Yet Time To Turn in White Stains by Aleister Crowley.

“O little root of nobleness left thus
Dead since it has no power to grow, to bloom;
Live, since I may not bury it within
The gaping tomb
Where virtue lies, that I, imperious,
Long since interred with hope, and all life’s joy save
sin.” [via]

Consider also:

  1. “He even thought that men might be immortal were they sinless, and his Cythna bids the sailors be without remorse, for all that live are stained as they are. It is thus, she says, that time marks men and their thoughts for the tomb.”
  2. “But these are only superficial things. Magic transcends space and time. All things are possible to an adept, but the virtue of his knowledge and power would desert if he used them for selfish ends or personal gain.”
  3. “She creeps alive upon the tawny sands, False glittering woman, girt about with lies! She steals toward me, the tigress sleek and fierce! Destroying devil, with long sinuous hands And hate triumphant in blue-murderous eyes! I nerve myself to spring upon and pierce With maddening fangs those firm white bosom towers, To tear those lithe voluptuous limbs apart And glut my ravening soul with vengeance. Heart Quickens as she draws near; the scent of flowers Breathes round her damned presence. Shall she live To triumph with those tainted lips of song — She whispered ‘Dearest, I have kept thee long’. I flung myself before her, ‘Love, forgive!'”
  4. “Nor thus did love’s embraces wane, Though lusty limbs grow idle quite; Our mouths’ red valves are over-fain To suck the sweetness from the night; And amorously, with touches light, Steal passion from reluctant pain. So has the daystar fled again Before the blushes of the sky, So did I clasp thy knees in vain: For we must part, and love must die.”
  5. “He cried again and again that every thing that lives is holy, and that nothing is unholy except things that do not live–lethargies, and cruelties, and timidities, and that denial of imagination which is the root they grew from in old times.”