As Above
Live your life, nor seek to know
Why scream the dead. The grass will grow
Luxuriantly, taste of love
And trouble not for knowledge, glove
Your senses with the wine of Pan,
Let him lead you where he can
Through woodland to the bacchanal,
There hide you from the fetid pall
Of reason. He who binds
The secret of arcanum finds
That which is truth, and which its foe
And he must live yet must he know
Why scream the dead below–below–
— Grady L. McMurtry
undated
Note: Originally published in Thelema Lodge Calendar, October 1992.