VIII
You love me! trite and idle word to darken
(With all its glow) the splendour of our sun!
No soul of heaven or hell may hearken
The unbearable device that we have done.
Nor may Justine nor Borgia understand
Nor Messalina nor Maria guess
The infernal chorus swelling darkly grand
That echoed us our everlasting ’ Yes! ’
Nor shall the Gods perceive to damn or praise
The deed that shakes their essence into dust,
Disrupts their dreams, divides their dreary days.
Supreme, abominable, rides our lust
Armed in the panoply of brazen youth
And strength, since, if we are Hell’s, Hell’s wormis Truth.
IX
Weare still young enough to take delight
In wickedness for wickedness’ sole sake.
Eve did not fall because she knew aright
The fruit an apple, but the snake a snake.
Nor shall we sink among the foolish throng
That seek an end, but rise among the few
Who do the strong thing because they are strong
And care not why they do, so that they do.
Therefore we wear our dread iniquity
Even as an aureole, therefore we attain
Measureless heights of nameless ecstasy,
Measureless depths of unimagined pain
Mingled in one initiating kiss
That those dissolve in the athanor of this.