T. R. Smith, comp. Poetica Erotica: Rare and Curious Amatory Verse. 1921–22.
Lot
By Aleister Crowley (1875–1947)(From The Soul of Osiris, 1901) TURN back from safety, in my love abide, | |
| Whose lips are warm as when, a virgin bride | |
| I clung to thee ashamed and very glad, | |
| Whose breasts are lordlier for the pain they had, | |
| Whose arms cleave closer than thy spouse’s own! | 5 |
| Thy spouse—O lover, kiss me, and atone! | |
| All my veins burst for love, my ripe breasts beat | |
| And lay their bleeding blossoms at thy feet! | |
| Spurn me no more! O bid these strangers go; | |
| Turn to my lips till their cup overflow; | 10 |
| Hurt me with kisses, kill me with desire, | |
| Consume me and destroy me with the fire | |
| Of blasting passion straining at the heart, | |
| Touched to the core by sweetnesses, that smart | |
| Bitten by fiery snakes, whose poisonous breath | 15 |
| Swoons in the midnight, and dissolves to death! * * * * * | |
| Turn to me, touch me, mix thy very breath | |
| With mine to mingle floods of fiery dew | |
| With flames of purple, like the sea shot through | |
| With golden glances of a fiercer star. | 20 |
| Turn to me, bend above me; you may char | |
| These olive shoulders with an old-time kiss, | |
| And fix thy mouth upon me for such bliss | |
| Of sudden rage rekindled. Turn again, | |
| And make delight the minister of pain, | 25 |
| And pain the father of a new delight, | |
| And light a lamp of torture for the night | |
| Too grievous to be borne without a cry | |
| To rend the very bowels of the sky | |
| And make the archangel gasp—a sudden pang, | 30 |
| Most like a traveller stricken by the fang | |
| Of the black adder whose squat head springs up, | |
| A flash of death, beneath a cactus cup. | |
| Ah turn, my bosom for thy love is cold; | |
| My arms are empty, and my lips can hold | 35 |
| No converse with thee far away like this. | |
| O for that communing pregnant with a kiss | |
| That is reborn when lips are set together | |
| To link our souls in one desirous tether, | |
| And weld our very bodies into one. | 40 |
| Ah fiend Jehovah, what then have we done | |
| To earn thy curse? Is love like ours too strong | |
| To dwell before thee, and do thy throne no wrong? | |
| Art thou grown jealous of the fiery band? | |
| Lo! thou hast spoken, and thy strong command | 45 |
| Bade earth and air divide, and on the sea | |
| Thy spirit moved—and thou must envy me! * * * * * | |
| Our love must lie beneath thy bitter ban! | |
| Thou petty, envious God! My King, be sure | |
| His brute force shall not to the end endure; | 50 |
| Some stronger soul than thine shall wrest his crown | |
| And thrust him from his own high heaven down | |
| To some obscure forgetful hell. For me | |
| Forsake thy hopes in him. We worship, we, | |
| Rather the dear delights we know and hold; | 55 |
| The first cool kiss, within the water cold | |
| That draws its music from some bubbling well, | |
| Looks long, looks deadly, looks desirable, | |
| The touch that fires, the next kiss, and the whole | |
| Body embracing, symbol of the soul, | 60 |
| And all the perfect passion of an hour. | |
| Turn to me, pluck that amaranthine flower, | |
| And leave the doubtful blossoms of the sky! | |
| You dare not kiss me! dare not draw you nigh | |
| Lest I should lure you to remain! nor speak | 65 |
| Lest you should catch the blood within your cheek | |
| Mantling. You dared enough—so long ago!— | |
| When to my blossom body clean as snow | |
| You pressed your bosom till desire was pain, | |
| And—then—that midnight! you did dare remain | 70 |
| Though all my limbs were bloody with your mouth | |
| That tore their flesh to satiate its drouth, | |
| That was not thereby satisfied! And now | |
| A pallid coward, with sly, skulking brow, | |
| You must leave Sodom for your spouse’s sake. | 75 |
| Coward and coward and coward; who would take | |
| The best flower of my life and leave me so, | |
| Still loving you—Ah! weak—and turn to go | |
| For fear of such a God! O blind! O fool! | |
| To heed these strangers and to be the tool | 80 |
| Of their smooth lies and monstrous miracles. | |
| O break this bondage and cast off their spells! | |
| Five righteous! Thou a righteous man! A jest! | |
| A righteous man—you always loved me best, | |
| And even when lured by lips of wanton girls | 85 |
| Would turn away and sigh and touch my curls, | |
| And slip half-conscious to the old embrace. | |
| And now you will not let me see your face | |
| Or hear your voice or touch you. Ah! the hour! | |
| He moves. Come back, come back, my life’s one flower! | 90 |
| Come back. One kiss before you leave me. So! | |
| Stop—turn—one little kiss before you go; | |
| It is my right—you must. Oh no! Oh no! | |