The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

Phanes Invocation
02:14 Nov 30 2015
Times Read: 252






Phanes is the God who rises agleam from the waters.



Phanes is the smile of dawn.



Phanes is the resplendent day



He is the immortal present.



He is the gushing streams.



He is the soughing wind.



He is hunger and satiation.



He is love and lust.



He is mourning and consolation.



He is promise and fulfillment,



He is the light that illuminates every darkness.



He is the eternal day.



He is the silver light of the moon.



He is the flickering stars.



He is the shooting star that flashes and falls and lapses.



He is the stream of shooting stars that returns every year.



He is the returning sun and moon.



He is the trailing star that brings wars and noble wine.



He is the good and fullness of the year,



He fulfills the hours with life-filled enchantment.



He is love’s embrace and whisper,



He is the warmth of friendship,



He is the hope that enlivens the void.



He is the magnificence of all renewed suns.



He is the joy at every birth.



He is the blooming flowers.



He is the velvety butterfly’s wing,



He is the scent of blooming gardens that fills the nights.



He is the song of joy.



He is the tree of light.



He is perfection, every-thing done better.



He is everything euphonious.



He is the well-measured.



He is the sacred number.



He is the promise of life.



He is the contract and the sacred pledge,



He is the diversity of sounds and colors,



He is the sanctification of morning, noon, and evening.



He is the benevolent and the gentle….



In truth, Phanes is work and its accomplishment and its remuneration.



He is the troublesome task and the evening calm.



He is the step on the middle way, its beginning, its middle, and its end.



He is foresight.



He is the end of fear.



He is the sprouting seed, the opening bud.



He is the gate of reception, of acceptance and deposition,



He is the spring and the desert.



He is the safe haven and the stormy night.



He is the certainty in desperation.



He is the solid in dissolution,



He is the liberation from imprisonment,



He is counsel and strength in advancement.



He is the friend of man, the light emanating from man, the bright glow that man beholds on his path.



He is the greatness of man, his worth, and his force.

A Secret
02:06 Nov 30 2015
Times Read: 253




ἰκέσιος, ἐπακτός. αἴ κα ἐπιπεμφθῆι ἐπὶ τὰν

οἰκιαν, αἰ μέγ κα ἰσᾶι ἀφ' ὅτινός οἱ ἐπῆνθε, ὀ-

νυμαξεῖ αὐτόν προειπὼν τρὶς ἀμέρας. αἰ δ[ὲ]

κα τεθνάκηι ἔγγαιος ἢ ἄλλη πη ἀπολώλη[ι],

αἰ μέγ κα ἰσᾶι τὸ ὄνυμα, ὀνυμαστὶ προερεῖ. αἰ 115

δέ κα μὴ ἰσᾶι, ὦ ἄνθρωπε, αἴτε ἀνὴρ αἴτε γυνὰ

ἐσσί. κολοσὸς ποιήσαντα ἔρσενα καὶ θήλει[ν]

ἢ καλίνος ἢ γαΐνος, ὑποδεξάμενον παρτιθ̣[έ]-

μεν τὸ μέρος πάντων. ἐπεὶ δέ κα ποιῆσες τὰ

νομιζόμενα, φέροντα ἐς ὕλαν ἀεργὸν ἐρε- 120

[ῖ]σαι τὰς κολοσὸς καὶ τὰ μέρη.

Iacchos Beside Me Advance (The Initiates)
02:00 Nov 30 2015
Times Read: 256

O Iacchus! power excelling, here in stately temples dwelling.

O Iacchus! O lacchus!

Come to tread this verdant level,

Come to dance in mystic revel,

Come whilst round thy forehead hurtles

Many a wreath of fruitful myrtles,

Come with wild and saucy paces

Mingling in our joyous dance,

Pure and holy, which embraces all the charms of all the Graces,

When the mystic choirs advance.



Come, arise, from sleep awaking, come the fiery torches shaking,

O Iacchus! O Iacchus!

Morning Star that shinest nightly.

Lo, the mead is blazing brightly,

Age forgets its years and sadness,

Aged knees curvet for gladness,

Lift thy flashing torches o'er us,

Marshal all thy blameless train,

Lead, O lead the way before us; lead the lovely youthful Chorus

To the marshy flowery plain.

All evil thoughts and profane be still: far hence, far hence from our choirs depart,

Who knows not well what the Mystics tell, or is not holy and pure of heart;

Who ne'er has the noble revelry learned, or danced the dance of the Muses high; or shared in the Bacchic rites which old bull-eating Cratinus's words supply;

Who vulgar coarse buffoonery loves, though all untimely the they make;

Or lives not easy and kind with all, or kindling faction forbears to slake,

But fans the fire, from a base desire some pitiful gain for himself to reap;

Or takes, in office, his gifts and bribes, while the city is tossed on the stormy deep;

Who fort or fleet to the foe betrays; or, a vile Thorycion, ships away

Forbidden stores from Aegina's shores, to Epidaurus across the Bay

Transmitting oar-pads and sails and tar, that curst collector of five per cents;

The knave who tries to procure supplies for the use of the enemy's armaments;

The Cyclian singer who dares befoul the Lady Hecate's wayside shrine;

The public speaker who once lampooned in our Bacchic feasts would, with heart malign,

Keep nibbling away the Comedians' pay;- to these I utter my warning cry,

I charge them once, I charge them twice,

I charge them thrice, that they draw not nigh

To the sacred dance of the Mystic choir.

But ye, my comrades, awake the song,

The night-long revels of joy and mirth which ever of right to our feast belong.

Advance, true hearts, advance!

On to the gladsome bowers,

On to the sward, with flowers

Embosomed bright!

March on with jest, and jeer, and dance,

Full well ye've supped to-night.

March, chanting loud your lays,

Your hearts and voices raising,

The Saviour goddess praising

Who vows she'll still

Our city save to endless days,

Whate'er Thorycion's will.

Break off the measure, and change the time; and now with chanting and hymns adorn

Demeter, goddess mighty and high, the harvest-queen, the giver of corn.

O Lady, over our rites presiding,

Preserve and succour thy choral throng,

And grant us all, in thy help confiding,

To dance and revel the whole day long;

And much in earnest, and much in jest,

Worthy thy feast, may we speak therein.

And when we have bantered and laughed our best,

The victor's wreath be it ours to win.

Call we now the youthful god, call him hither without delay,

Him who travels amongst his chorus, dancing along on the Sacred Way.

O, come with the joy of thy festival song,

O, come to the goddess, O, mix with our throng

Untired, though the journey be never so long.

O Lord of the frolic and dance, lacchus, beside me advance!

For fun, and for cheapness, our dress thou hast rent,

Through thee we may dance to the top of our bent,

Reviling, and jeering, and none will resent.

O Lord of the frolic and dance, lacchus, beside me advance!

A sweet pretty girl I observed in the show,

Her robe had been torn in the scuffle, and lo,

There peeped through the tatters a bosom of snow.

O Lord of the frolic and dance, lacchus, beside me advance!