I <br /> <br />How should I seek to make a song for thee <br />When all my music is to moan thy name? <br />That long sad monotone - the same - the same - <br />Matching the mute insatiable sea <br />That throbs with life's bewitching agony, <br />Too long to measure and too fierce to tame! <br />An hurtful joy, a fascinating shame <br />Is this great ache that grips the heart of me. <br /> <br />Even as a cancer, so this passion gnaws <br />Away my soul, and will not ease its jaws <br />Till I am dead. Then let me die! Who knows <br />But that this corpse committed to the earth <br />May be the occasion of some happier birth? <br />Spring's earliest snowdrop? Summer's latest rose? <br /> <br />II <br /> <br />Thou knowest what asp hath fixed its lethal tooth <br />In the white breast that trembled like a flower <br />At thy name whispered. thou hast marked how hour <br />By hour its poison hath dissolved my youth, <br />Half skilled to agonise, half skilled to soothe <br />This passion ineluctable, this power <br />Slave to its single end, to storm the tower <br />That holdeth thee, who art Authentic Truth. <br /> <br />O golden hawk! O lidless eye! Behold <br />How the grey creeps upon the shuddering gold! <br />Still I will strive! That thou mayst sweep <br />Swift on the dead from thine all-seeing steep - <br />And the unutterable word by spoken.<br /><br />Aleister Crowley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-mantra-yoga/
