T. R. Smith, comp. Poetica Erotica: Rare and Curious Amatory Verse. 1921–22.
A Saint’s Damnation
By Aleister Crowley (1875–1947)(From The Soul of Osiris, 1901) YOU buy my spirit with those shameless eyes | |
| That burn my soul, you loose the torrent stream | |
| Of my desire, you make my lips your prize, | |
| And on them burns the whole life’s hope: you deem | |
| You buy a heart; but I am well aware | 5 |
| How my damnation dwells in that supreme | |
| Passion to feed upon your shoulders bare, | |
| And pass the dewy twilight of our sin | |
| In the intolerable flames of hair | |
| That clothe my body from your head; you win | 10 |
| The devil’s bargain; I am yours to kill, | |
| Yours, for one kiss; my spirit for your skin! | |
| O bitter love, consuming all my will! | |
| O love destroying, that hast drained my life | |
| Of all those fountains of dear blood that fill | 15 |
| My heart! O woman, would I call you wife? | |
| Would I content you with one touch divine | |
| To flood your spirit with the clinging strife | |
| Of perfect passionate joy, the joy of wine, | |
| The drunkenness of extreme pleasure, filled | 20 |
| From sin’s amazing cup. Oh, mine, mine, mine, | |
| Mine, if your kisses maddened me or killed, | |
| Mine, at the price of my damnation deep, | |
| Mine, if you will, as once your glances willed! | |
| Take me, or break me, slay or soothe to sleep, | 25 |
| If only yours one hour, one perfect hour, | |
| Remembrance and despair and hope to steep. | |
| In the infernal potion of that flower, | |
| My poisonous passion for your blood! Behold! | |
| How utterly I yield, how gladly dower. | 30 |
| Our sin with my own spirit’s quenched gold, | |
| Clothe love with my own soul’s immortal power, | |
| Give thee my body as a fire to hold— | |
| O love, no words, no songs—your breast my bower! | |