The Speech Of The High One

I know I hung on that windswept tree,
Swung there for nine long nights,
Wounded by my own blade,
Bloodied for Odinn,
Myself and offering to myself:
Bound to the tree
That no man knows
Wither the roots of it run.

None gave me bread,
None gave me drink.
Down to the deepest depths I peered
Until I spied the Runes.
With a roaring cry I seized them up,
Then dizzy and fainting, I fell.

Well-being I won
And wisdom too.
I grew and took joy in my Growth:
From a word to a word
I was led to a word, From a deed to another deed.

The Poetic Edda (ca A.D. 1200)

Books in PDF format to read:

Carroll Runyon - The Secret Of The Dark Mirror
Dion Fortune - The Machinery Of The Mind
Stephen Flowers - The Secret Of The Gothick God Of Darkness
Graham Hancock - The Message Of The Sphinx