The Nameless Quest in The Gate of the Sanctuary from The Temple of the Holy Ghost (Collected Works, Vol I) by Aleister Crowley.
“The overwhelming sweetness of a voice
Filled me with Godhead. ‘Still remains the choice!
Thou knowest me for Beauty! Canst thou bear
The fuller vision, the abundant air?’
I only wept. The elements rejoice;
No tear before had ever fallen there.” [via]
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Consider also:
- “The king did start, Gripped my strong hands, and held me to his heart, And could not speak a moment. Then he set A curb of sorrow and subdued its dart. ‘Go! and the blessing of high God attend Thy path, and lead thee to the doubtful end. No tongue that secret ever may reveal. Thy soul is god-like and thy frame is steel; Thou mayst win the quest–the king, thy friend, Gives thee his sword to keep thee–Gereth, kneel! ‘I dub thee Earl; arise!’ And then there rings The queen’s voice: ‘Shall my love not match the king’s? Here, from my finger drawn, this gem of power Shall guard thee in some unimagined hour. It hath strange virtue over mortal things. I freely give it for thy stirrup’s dower.’ I left the presence. Now the buffeting wind Gladdens my face–I leave the court behind. Am I Stark mad? My face grows grim and grave; I see–O Mary Mother, speak and save! I stare and stare until mine eyes are blind– There was no jewel in the ring she gave!”
- “I lifted up my eyes. What soul stood there, Fronting my path? Tall, stately, delicate, A woman fairer than a pomegranate. A silver spear her hands of lotus bear, One shaft of moonlight quivering and straight. She pointed to the East with flashing eyes: ‘Thou canst not see her–but my Queen shall rise.’ Bowed head and beating heart, with feet unsure I passed her, trembling, for she was too pure. I could have loved her. No: she was too wise. Her presence was to gracious to endure. ‘She did not bid me go and chain me to her,’ I cried, comparing.”
- “A hollow voice from every quarter cries: ‘O thou, zelator of this Paradise, Tell thou the secret of the pillar! None Can hear thee, of the souls beneath the sun. Speak, or the very Godhead in thee dies. For we are many and thy name is One.'”
- “A spirit walking in a dream, I went To the high throne–they shook the firmament With foolish cheers. I knelt before the queen And wept in silence. Then, as it had been And angel’s voice and touch, her face she bent, Lifted and kissed me–oh! her lips were keen! Her voice was softer than a virgin’s eyes: ‘Go! my true knight: for thither, thither lies The only road for thee; thou hast a prayer Wafted each hour–my spirit will be there!’ Too late I knew what subtle Paradise Her dreams and prayers portend: too fresh, too fair! I turned more wretched than myself knew yet. I told my nameless pain I should forget Its shadow as it passed.”
- “Not until the Universe is thus laid naked before thee canst thou truly anatomize it.”