The Collected Works of Aleister Crowley. Aleister Crowley
! Tally-ho ! Bring THAT to bay !
Then, wind the Mort !
ΚΕΦΑΛΗ ΝΒ
THE BULL-BAITING
Fourscore and eleven books wrote I ; in each did I expound THE GREAT WORK fully, from The beginning even unto The End thereof.
Then at last came certain men unto me, saying : O Master ! Expound thou THE GREAT WORK unto us, O Master !
And I held my peace.
O generation of gossipers ! who shall deliver you from the Wrath that is fallen upon you?
O Babblers, Prattlers, Talkers, Loquacious Ones, Tatlers, Chewers of the Red Rag that inflameth Apis the Redeemer to fury, learn first what is Work ! and THE GREAT WORK is not so far beyond !
ΚΕΦΑΛΗ ΝΓ
THE DOWSER
Once round the meadow. Brother, does the hazel twig dip?
Twice round the orchard. Brother, does the hazel twig dip?
Thrice round the paddock. Highly, lowly, wily, holy, dip, dip, dip !
Then neighed the horse in the paddock—and lo ! its wings.
For whoso findeth the SPRING beneath the earth maketh the treaders-of-earth to course the heavens.
This SPRING is threefold ; of water, but also of steel, and of the seasons.
Also this PADDOCK is the Toad that hath the jewel between his eyes—Aum Mani Padmen Hum ! (Keep us from Evil !)
ΚΕΦΑΛΗ ΝΔ
EAVES-DROPPINGS
Five and forty apprentice masons out of work !
Fifteen fellow-craftsmen out of work !
Three Master Masons out of work !
All these sat on their haunches waiting The Report of the Sojourner ; for THE WORD was lost.
This is the Report of the Sojourners : THE WORD was LOVE ;23 and its number is An Hundred and Eleven.
Then said each AMO ;24 for its number is An Hundred and Eleven.
Each took the Trowel from his LAP,25 whose number is An Hundred and Eleven.
Each called moreover on the Goddess NINA,26 for Her number is An Hundred and Eleven.
Yet with all this went The Work awry ; for THE WORD OF THE LAW IS ΘΕΛΗΜΑ.
ΚΕΦΑΛΗ ΝΕ
THE DROOPING SUNFLOWER
The One Thought vanished ; all my mind was torn to rags : —— nay ! nay ! my head was mashed into wood pulp, and thereon the Daily Newspaper was printed.
Thus wrote I, since my One Love was torn from me. I cannot work : I cannot think : I seek distraction here : I seek distraction there : but this is all my truth, that I who love have lost ; and how may I regain ?
I must have money to get to America.
O Mage ! Sage ! Gauge thy Wage, or in the Page of Thine Age is written Rage !
O my darling ! We should not have spent Ninety Pounds in that Three Weeks in Paris ! . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Slash the Breaks on thine arm with a poleaxe !
ΚΕΦΑΛΗ ΝF
TROUBLE WITH TWINS
Holy, holy, holy, unto Five Hundred and Fifty Five times holy be OUR LADY of the STARS !
Holy, holy, holy, unto One Hundred and Fifty Six times holy be OUR LADY that rideth upon THE BEAST !
Holy, holy, holy, unto the Number of Times Necessary and Appropriate be OUR LADY Isis in Her Millions-of-Names, All-Mother, Genetrix-Meretrix !
Yet holier than all These to me is LAYLAH, night and death ; for Her do I blaspheme alike the finite and The Infinite.
So wrote not FRATER PERDURABO, but the Imp Crowley in his Name.
For forgery let him suffer Penal Servitude for Seven Years ; or at least let him do Pranayama all the way home—home? nay ! but to the house of the harlot whom he loveth not. For it is LAYLAH that he loveth . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
And yet who knoweth which is Crowley, and which is FRATER PERDURABO?
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