Arthur Edward Waite (2 October 1857 – 19 May 1942) was an American-born British poet and scholarly mystic who wrote extensively on occult and esoteric matters, and was the co-creator of the Rider-Waite tarot deck (also called the Rider-Waite-Smith or Waite-Smith deck). As his biographer R. A. Gilbert described him, "Waite's name has survived because he was the first to attempt a systematic study of the history of western occultism—viewed as a spiritual tradition rather than as aspects of proto-science or as the pathology of religion."
Waite was born in Brooklyn, New York, United States. Waite's father, Capt. Charles F. Waite, died when he was very young, and his widowed mother, Emma Lovell, returned to her home country of England, where he was then raised. They were well enough off to educate Waite at a small private school in North London. When he was 13, he was educated at St. Charles' College. When he left school to become a clerk he wrote verse in his spare time. In 1863 Waite's mother converted to Catholicism. The death of his sister Frederika Waite in 1874 soon attracted him into psychical research. At 21, he began to read regularly in the Library of the British Museum, studying many branches of esotericism.
When Waite was almost 30 he married Ada Lakeman (also called "Lucasta"), and they had one daughter, Sybil. Some time after Lucasta's death in 1924, Waite married Mary Broadbent Schofield. He spent most of his life in or near London, connected to various publishing houses and editing a magazine, The Unknown World.
Waite joined the Outer Order of the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn in January 1891 after being introduced by E.W. Berridge. In 1893 he withdrew from the Golden Dawn. In 1896 he rejoined the Outer Order of the Golden Dawn. In 1899 he entered the Second order of the Golden Dawn. He became a Freemason in 1901, and entered the Societas Rosicruciana in Anglia in 1902. Waite was a prolific author and many of his works were well received in academic circles. He wrote occult texts on subjects including divination, esotericism, Rosicrucianism, Freemasonry, and ceremonial magic, Kabbalism and alchemy; he also translated and reissued several mystical and alchemical works. A number of his volumes remain in print, including The Book of Ceremonial Magic (1911), The Holy Kabbalah (1929), A New Encyclopedia of Freemasonry (1921), and his edited translation of Eliphas Levi's 1896 Transcendental Magic, its Doctrine and Ritual (1910), having seen reprints in recent years. Waite also wrote two allegorical fantasy novels, Prince Starbeam (1889) and The Quest of the Golden Stairs (1893), and edited Elfin Music, an anthology of poetry based on English fairy folklore.
A LYRIC OF THE FAIRY LAND
A.E. Waite
I.
When first mankind defiled the heart with crime
The gentle fairies sought a happier clime,
Far, far beyond the sunset's golden gate,
And there await
The gradual dawning of a milder time.
They linger still within those distant places,
These wondrous children of the infant world ;
Oft in the silence of a summer even
You see them standing on the enchanted shore-
The ruby threshold of the western heaven—
Their feathery pinions furled,
And the pale pureness of their lovely faces
Will haunt you evermore.
Their distant palaces behind them gleam,
Rich with a thousand towers
Above the opal sea ;
Silent they stand, like wanderers in a dream,
And through the evening hours,
From their eternal city,
They gaze in pity
On thee and me
Toiling through the lonely hours.
When will the day come bringing them o'er
Yonder dim ocean to this far shore,
With an end to our sorrow in light-hearted laughter,
The tempests passed over and sunshine thereafter ?
The morning- light expands above our heads,
The evening sunsets fire the sky,
The melancholy moon her radiance sheds,
And whitens in the heavenly spaces high ;
Our eyes made dim with labour's bloody sweat
Look for the promised time whose glories dawn not yet.
II.
Trust me, my brothers, there are fairies still,
Though seen to day no more,
And dwelling distant on a better shore ;
They have but vanished from the haunts of men
Until the golden age return again,
But now the good time goeth from the earth,
With all its guileless merriment and mirth ;
The lust of gold usurps affection's throne—
Not worth but wealth the only passport known ;
Rebellion's brood begets the foulest crime,
The flags of anarchy are all unfurled,
The lawless spirit of an evil time
Subverts the grand old order of the world.
III.
What glimpses in this dreary night
Tell of the earth's primeval light,
When first of God begotten ?
While idle dreams our souls engage,
The glories of the golden age
Are all, alas ! forgotten.
Our eyes grow dim with toil and tears,
Hearts darken with the dust of years,
No voice our pains can number :
We yearn for peace while cries of war
Prolong their notes from shore to shore—
The dead alone can slumber.
Green waves the grass above their heads,
Its silent dews the morning sheds
With eastern lights unfolding ;
The perfect peace has dawned for these,
Who sojourn under Eden's trees
The smiles of God beholding.
IV.
This earth of ours is red with blood
And hearts are hard as stone,
And wisdom makes us cold and proud
With purer feelings flown.
The world goes seeking truths unkind,
And all the fairy brood
Are driven from out their leafy haunts
And greenwood solitude.
Yet still some hearts renew their youth
When spring-tide leaves are green,
And warm beneath the summer sun
And azure skies serene ;
Some voice is whispering peace and hope,
And tidings strange and good
In angel language often heard
But seldom understood.
V.
The fairy broods will come once more,
The elves again be seen ;
'Tis only the heart of man grows old
For the earth is always green.
Some kindlier influence still makes soft
The hardest, harshest fate,
And joy shall cure the wounds of woe
Ere balm can come too late.
Though evil powers prevail awhile
And evil deeds abound,
Though lawless might oppress the weak
And right go forth discrowned,
Yet lose not hope, some happier ag-e
Most tranquil and most sweet,
Shall make for all existing wrongs
A compensation meet.
VI.
Our hopes are high for future days,
Their comes a milder time,
When men shall walk in gentle ways
And simpleness sublime.
The mighty past behind us lies,
The future dawns in light,
New aims and aspirations rise,
New truths make clear the sight.
Far on the glimmering verge of time
We see the end of sin,
Our eagle star renews her prime,
The better days begin.
A stormier age may intervene,
Misrule may reign awhile,
But through the distant clouds is seen
The heaven's eternal smile.
Oh ! while the tempests round us beat,
Star of the brighter day,
Rise—while we toil with bleeding feet,—
Shine on our thorny way.
Hope for the hopeless, perfect peace,
Breathe in our hearts, oh ! star ;
Bid the wild cries of faction cease,
Herald of heaven afar !
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