California
By Aleister Crowley
Forged by God’s fingers in His Furnace, Fate,
My destiny drew near the glowing shore
Where California hides her golden ore,
Her rubies and beryls …
Manifold fruits and flowers alike create
Glories most unimaginable, more
Than Heaven’s own meadows match; yet this is sore.
A stain; not one of these is delicate.
Save only the clear green within the sea–
Because that rolls all landless from Japan.
I did not know until I missed it here
How beautiful that beauty is to me,
That life that bears Death’s sigil traced too clear,
Blue lines within the beauty that is man.
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