Antipope: The Great God Pan


When the chill of the earth black-breasted
Is relieved from the glance
Of the red sun fire-crested
And the forest blossoms dance
With the night that stirs and lustres of the Moon
In the hidden valley’s gloom.

Then I pace the ways olden
In the woodland solemn spaces
Th’intense realm of Pan.
I shed my skin mundane,
Dispel the pious charms,
Renounce the God of ten commands.

Uncharmable charmer
Of Bacchus and Mars
In the sounding rebounding
Abyss of the stars!
O virgin in armor
Thine arrows unsling
Pierce the eye of the storm,
The Christendom’s king!

In the wheel of heaven revolving
Mysteries of death and birth, eternal return.
In the womb of time dissolving,
We shape anew heaven and earth.

Ever changing, ever growing, ever dwindling, ever dear,
Ever worth the passion glowing to distil a doubtful tear.
These are with me, these of me, these approve me, these obey.
Choose me move me fear me love me, master of the night and day!

Gods and mortals, mind and matter,
In the glowing bud dissever.
Vein from vein they rend and shatter
And are nothingness for ever.

One last stroke, O heart-free master,
One last certain calm of will
And the Maker of Disaster
Shall be stricken and grow still.

Unchain the heart
Consume the God,
Soul and spirit!

(Based on poems “Arhan” and “Pan to Artemis” by Aleister Crowley and “A Nympholept” by Algernon Charles Swinburne)