Aspiration.

God knows I strive against low lust and vice,      Wound in the net of their voluptuous hair;     God knows that all their kisses are as ice          To me who do not care.     God knows, against the front of Fate I set      Eyes still and stern, and lips as bitter prest;     Raised clenched and ineffectual palms to let         Her rock-like pressing breast!     God knows what motive such large zeal inspires,      God knows the star for which I climb and crave,     God knows, and only God, the eating fires          That in my bosom rave.     I will not fall! I will not; thou dost lie!      Deep Hell! that seethest in thy simmering pit;     Thy thousand throned horrors shall not vie,          Or ever compass it!     But as thou sinkest from my soul away,      So shall I rise, rolled in the morning's rose,     Beyond this world, this life, this little day -          God knows! God knows! God knows!