A SONNET.

By A. NEWMAN [Aleister Crowley]

Published in the International

New York, New York, U.S.A.

April 1918

(page 125)

There are no dreams of my imagining

Which shall encompass all your loveliness.

Never hath spirit worn a fairer dress,

Nor flesh contained so beautiful a thing.

You are all hallowed from the Heavenly King;

And His choice angels round about you press

Lest even the shadow of unrighteousness

Should shade your form, or set you sorrowing.

Less fair in lustre is the Evening Star;

And yet you shine upon my darkened ways,

And step down from your firmament for me,

Glittering with love, as saints and angels are!

For this I’ll worship you while I have days;

And when days end, till ends eternity.