Poems begining by A
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A Psalm Of The Unseen Altar
© Henry Van Dyke
Man the maker of cities is also a builder of altars:
Among his habitations he setteth tables for his god.
A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet XIX
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Alas, that words like these should be but folly!
Behold, the Boulevard mocks, and I mock too.
Let us away and purge our melancholy
With the last laughter at the Ambigu!
A Song of Kabir
© Rudyard Kipling
Oh, light was the world that he weighed in his hands!
Oh, heavy the tale of his fiefs and his lands!
He has gone from the guddee and put on the shroud,
And departed in guise of bairagi avowed!
A Defence Of English Spring
© Alfred Austin
Unnamed, unknown, but surely bred
Where Thames, once silver, now runs lead,
Ave Adonai
© Aleister Crowley
Am I not wholly stript
Of the deeds and thoughts that obscure thee?
I wait for thee, my soul distraught
With aching for some nameless naught
In its most arcane crypt-
Am I not fit to endure thee?
Au Bal
© Aleister Crowley
[Dedicated to Horace Sheridan-Bickers]A vision of flushed faces, shining limbs,
The madness of the music that entrances
All life in its delirium of dances!
The white world glitters in the void, and swims
Athor and Asar
© Aleister Crowley
[Dedicated to Frank Harris, editor of Vanity Fair]On the black night, beneath the winter moon,
I clothed me in the limbs of Codia,
Swooning my soul out into her red throat,
So that the glimmer of our skins, the tune
At Sea
© Aleister Crowley
As night hath stars, more rare than ships
In ocean, faint from pole to pole,
So all the wonder of her lips
Hints her innavigable soul.
At Bordj-an-Nus
© Aleister Crowley
El Arabi! El Arabi! Burn in thy brilliance, mine own!
O Beautiful! O Barbarous! Seductive as a serpent is
That poises head and hood, and makes his body tremble to the drone
Of tom-tom and of cymbal wooed by love's assassin sorceries!
Arhan
© Aleister Crowley
When the chill of earth black-breasted is uplifted at the
glance
Of the red sun million-crested, and the forest blossoms
dance
An Oath
© Aleister Crowley
(An Oath wrtitten during the Dawn Meditation)Aiwaz! Confirm my troth with thee ! my will inspire
With secret sperm of subtle, free, creating Fire!
Mould thou my very flesh as Thine, renew my birth
In childhood merry as divine, enchenated earth!
Adela
© Aleister Crowley
Jupiter Mars P Moon
VENEZIA, "May" 19"th", 1910.
Jupiter's foursquare blaze of gold and blue
Rides on the moon, a lilac conch of pearl,
A Birthday
© Aleister Crowley
Then Easter, and the days of all delight!
God's sun lit noontide and his moon midnight,
While above all, true centre of our world,
True source of light, our great love passion-pearled
Gave all its life and splendour to the sea
Above whose tides stood our stability.
At Dawn
© Edgar Albert Guest
They come to my room at the break of the day,
With their faces all smiles and their minds full of play;
They come on their tip-toes and silently creep
To the edge of the bed where I'm lying asleep,
And then at a signal, on which they agree,
With a shout of delight they jump right onto me.
An Old Twenty-Third Man
© Robert Graves
Is that the Three-and-Twentieth, Strabo mine,
Marching below, and we still gulping wine?
From the sad magic of his fragrant cup
The red-faced old centurion started up,
An English Wood
© Robert Graves
This valley wood is pledged
To the set shape of things,
And reasonably hedged:
Here are no harpies fledged,
A Song Before Sailing
© Bliss William Carman
I call from room to room
Through the deserted gloom;
The echoes are all words I know,
Lost in some long ago.
At Set of Sun
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
If we sit down at set of sun,
And count the things that we have done,
A Boy in Church
© Robert Graves
Gabble-gabble,
brethren,
gabble-gabble!
My window frames forest and heather.
I hardly hear the tuneful babble,
Not knowing nor much caring whether
The text is praise or exhortation,
Prayer or thanksgiving, or damnation.
Antara
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Though thou thy fair face concealest still in thy veil from me,
yet am I he that hath captured horse--riders how many!
Give me the praise of my fair deeds. Lady, thou knowest it,
kindly am I and forbearing, save when wrong presseth me.
Only when evil assaileth, deal I with bitterness;
then am I cruel in vengeance, bitter as colocynth.
