Athor and Asar poem – Aleister Crowley poems | Poetry Monster

A poem by Alistar Crowley (1875-1947)

[Dedicated to Frank Harris, editor of Vanity Fair]

On the black night, beneath the winter moon,

I clothed me in the limbs of Codia,

Swooning my soul out into her red throat,

So that the glimmer of our skins, the tune

Og our ripe rythm, seemed the hideous play

Of death-worms crawling on a corpse,afloat

With life that takes its thirst

Only from things accurst.

Closer than Clodia’s clasp, Death had me down

To his black heart, and fed upon my breath,

So that we seemed a stilness -whiter than

The stars, more silent than the stars, a crown

Of Stars ! For in the icy kiss of death

I found that God that is denied to man

So long as love and thought

And life avail him aught.

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