Unholy howling in my blood

That drowns the music in my soul! –

Confounding with nostalgic flood

My poor resolve, in rise and roll.

The fever of my mind thou art,

That immolateth piety;

Thou art the riot in my heart

‘Gainst conscience and authority.

At night’s reposing, thou dost creep

And plunder peace from out my brain,

To grieve my solitude in sleep,

To underline and mock my pain.

At morning’s rising, still thy prey,

Thou feedest on the vacancy

Beside me, and dost haunt my day

Aching for sensuality.

Inspiring a vile contrition

For vice’s absence, virtue’s being,

Thou ventest forth a sad sedition

That chaineth in attempts at freeing.

Too much of yearning for my past

And too much sorrow for today:

Thine obstinate despair doth cast

A pall of rancor when I pray.

The riches that the Lord bestoweth

In character, serenity;

The obligations the soul oweth

This generous Divinity

Thou wouldst have me reject for sludge,

The excrement of venery;

The grace of continence begrudge

And Savior thus for saving me.

Get thee behind me, demon’s breath!

Filling my lungs with suspiration – 

Get thee behind me, hymn of death!

Strumming the lyre of my damnation.

Heaven’s inheritance is mine,

A treasure I can spend on earth.

The bulk is saved in vaults divine – 

I would not disregard its worth

For hoarding farthings of cheap pleasure

That lose their value in the spending;

A hollowness that grow’th in measure

Unsated with desire unending,

Or else indulge a series of

(Yearly renewed) lovers fleeting

That vainly take the name of Love,

Departing at the new one’s meeting.

Get hence, Regret! Thou sordid knave!

But several years, I’m free of thee:

Thou shalt be locked within my grave

When I pass to eternity.