To Kathleen- <br /> <br />Nor I can give, nor you can take; endures <br />The simple truth of me that is yours. <br />Is not the music mingled with the form <br />When all the heavens break in blind black storm? <br />Are we not veiled as Gods, and cruel as they, <br />Smiting our brilliance on the shuddering clay? <br />Silence and darkness cover us, confirm <br />Our splendour to its unappointed term: <br />For all the men homunculi that dance <br />Around us shudder at our brilliance. <br />These puppets perish in the good grand glare, <br />Our sworded sunlight in the boundless air ! <br />These bats need cloisters; these tame birds a cage; <br />How should they know the Masters of the Age? <br />Or understand when the archangels cry <br />Adoring us Ellên kat' asterh ei?<br /><br />Aleister Crowley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/prologue-to-rodin-in-rime/
