Love Lies Bleeding


Curled on itself for love of its own mould,
      The siren shell lies open to the globe
      Of Godhead that rays forth with purple probe
Light of fierce force, a galaxy of gold;
And by the spell whereon his fingers fold
      The murex blood beams oozing from the lobe
      Whose delicate blushes modesty disrobe
The virgin Venus that her nymphs uphold!

The sand is still like star-dust in my hair;
      The sea is still like slumber in my brain;
The sun still burns my face — and on the air
      (While in the Rose and crimson Thorn makes merry)
Come nightingales — and bells — and through their strain
      The vision of the towers of Glastonbury!

Previous | Top | Issue 1, January 1918 | Next


If you have found this material useful or enlightening, you may also be interested in


Ordo Templi Orientis, O.T.O., and the O.T.O. Lamen design are registered trademarks of Ordo Templi Orientis.


All copyrights on Aleister Crowley material are held by Ordo Templi Orientis. This site is not an official O.T.O. website, and is neither sponsored by nor controlled by Ordo Templi Orientis.

The text of this Aleister Crowley material is made available here only for personal and non-commercial use. This material is provided here in a convenient searchable form as a study resource for those seekers looking for it in their research. For any commercial use, please contact Ordo Templi Orientis.