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AVE ADONAI


                     AVE ADONAI

       PALE as the night that pales
         In the dawn's pearl-pure pavilion,
     I wait for thee, with my dove's breast
     Shuddering, a god its bitter guest ---
       Have I not gilded my nails
         And painted my lips with vermilion?

       Am I not wholly stript
         Of the deeds and thoughts that obscure thee?
     I wait for thee, my soul distraught
     With aching for some nameless naught
       In its most arcane crypt ---
         Am I not fit to endure thee?

       Girded about the paps
         With a golden girdle of glory,
     Dost thou wait me, thy slave who am,
     As a wolf lurks for a strayed white lamb?
       The chain of the stars snaps,
         And the deep of night is hoary!

       Thou whose mouth is a flame
         With its seven-edged sword proceeding,       {351}
     Come!  I am writhing with despair
     Like a snake taken in a snare,
       Moaning thy mystical name
         Till my tongue is torn and bleeding!

       Have I not gilded my nails
         And painted my lips with vermilion?
     Yea! thou art I; the deed awakes:
     Thy lightning strikes, thy thunder breaks
       Wild as the bride that wails
         In the bridegroom's plumed pavilion!

                                     ALEISTER CROWLEY

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