Ave Adonai poem – Aleister Crowley poems | Poetry Monster

A poem by Alistar Crowley (1875-1947)

[Dedicated to G. M. Marston]

Pale as the night that pales

In the dawn’s pearl-pure pavillion,

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 vermillion ?

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,

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 vermillion?

Yea ! thou art I; the deed awakes,

Thy lightening strikes; thy thunder breaks

Wild as the bride that wails

In the bridegroom’s plumed pavillion!

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