The Consumption of the Word
The Consumption of the Word
O living flame wherein we move
Thrilling the universe with love!
O Sun of music that upstarts,
Hymn hymeneal within our hearts!
O ambience of the aethyr drawn
Round us like dewfall on the dawn!
O limitless, O lordly light
Wherein we fledge us for the flight
To that unutterable bourn
Whose silence lies behind the morn,
Bear up my soul! Delight dissolves
My being; ecstacy revolves
In dizzy wheels. My life expands
Beyond its bounds; it understands
How selfhood burns, a ruby cross,
Finds greater gain in its own loss,
Consumes its substance in the throes
That bring to birth the Golden Rose....
O thou blood-breasted Pelican,
Bearer and nourisher of man!
O eagle that uproaring springs
Into the aethyr on wide wings,
And, gazing, sucks the substance of
That orb whose ornament is love,
Grows one with that most excellent
Sphere by the subtle sacrament
Of the mute music through its thought,
And so, in rapture clothed and caught,
Melts, mighty martyr, in the sun,
So i in thee, Hilarion!
From The Golden Rose by Aleister Crowley
O living flame wherein we move
Thrilling the universe with love!
O Sun of music that upstarts,
Hymn hymeneal within our hearts!
O ambience of the aethyr drawn
Round us like dewfall on the dawn!
O limitless, O lordly light
Wherein we fledge us for the flight
To that unutterable bourn
Whose silence lies behind the morn,
Bear up my soul! Delight dissolves
My being; ecstacy revolves
In dizzy wheels. My life expands
Beyond its bounds; it understands
How selfhood burns, a ruby cross,
Finds greater gain in its own loss,
Consumes its substance in the throes
That bring to birth the Golden Rose....
O thou blood-breasted Pelican,
Bearer and nourisher of man!
O eagle that uproaring springs
Into the aethyr on wide wings,
And, gazing, sucks the substance of
That orb whose ornament is love,
Grows one with that most excellent
Sphere by the subtle sacrament
Of the mute music through its thought,
And so, in rapture clothed and caught,
Melts, mighty martyr, in the sun,
So i in thee, Hilarion!
From The Golden Rose by Aleister Crowley