SUMMA

SPES

ALEISTER

     CROWLEY

EXISTENCE being sorrow,

     The cause of it desire,

A merry tune I borrow

     To light upon the lyre:

If death destroy me quite.

     Then, I cannot lament it;

I’ve lived, kept life alight,

     And—damned if I repent it!

     Let me die in a ditch,

               Damnably drunk,

               Or lipping a punk,

     Or in bed with a bitch!

               I was ever a hog;

     Dung? I am one with it!

               Let me die like a dog;

Die, and be done with it!

AS far as reason goes,

     There's hope for mortals yet:

When nothing is that knows,

     What is there to regret?

Our consciousness depends

     On matter in the brain;

When that rots out, and ends,

     There ends the hour of pain.

     Let me die in a ditch,

               Damnably drunk,

               Or lipping a punk,

     Or in bed with a bitch!

               I was ever a hog;

     Dung? I am one with it!

               Let me die like a dog;

Die, and be done with it!

IF we can trust to this,

     Why, dance and drink and revel!

Great scarlet mouths to kiss,

     And sorrow to the devil!

If pangs ataxic creep,

     Or gout, or stone, annoy us,

Queen Morphia, grant thy sleep!

     Let worms, the dears, enjoy us!

     Let me die in a ditch,

               Damnably drunk,

               Or lipping a punk,

     Or in bed with a bitch!

               I was ever a hog;

     Dung? I am one with it!

               Let me die like a dog;

Die, and be done with it!

BUT since a chance remains

     That “I” survives the body,

So talk the men whose brains

     Are made of shit and shoddy.)

I’ll stop it if I can.

     (Ah Jesus, if Thou couldest!

I’ll go to Martaban

     To make myself a Buddhist.

     Let me die in a ditch,

               Damnably drunk,

               Or lipping a punk,

     Or in bed with a bitch!

               I was ever a hog;

     Dung? I am one with it!

               Let me die like a dog;

Die, and be done with it!

AND yet: the bigger chance

     Lies with annihilation.

Follow the lead of France,

     Freedom's enlightened nation!

Off! sacerdotal stealth

     Of faith and fraud and gnosis!

Come, drink me: Here's thy health,

     Arterio-sclerosis!

     Let me die in a ditch,

               Damnably drunk,

               Or lipping a punk,

     Or in bed with a bitch!

               I was ever a hog;

     Dung? I am one with it!

               Let me die like a dog;

Die, and be done with it!

And so—

     Farewell!