The Nameless Quest in The Gate of the Sanctuary from The Temple of the Holy Ghost (Collected Works, Vol I) by Aleister Crowley.

“Yet the thought chilled me as I touched the reins.
Ah! the poor horse, he will not. So remains,
Divided in his love. With mastered tears
I stride toward the parapet. My ears
Catch his low call; and now a song complains.
The bridge is bleeding and the river hears.
Ah! God! I cannot live for pity deep
Of that heart-quelling chant—I could not sleep
Ever again to think of it. I close
My hearing with my fingers. Gently goes
A quivering foot above them as they weep—
I weep, I also, as the river flows.
Slowly the bridge subsides, and I am flung
Deep in the tears and terrors never sung.
I swim with sorrow bursting at my breast.
Yet I am cleansed, and find some little rest.
Still from my agonised unspeaking tongue
Breaks: I must go, go onward to the quest.” [via]

Consider also:

  1. “Loved, and no sin done! Ay, the world shall see The quest is first–a love less terrible. Yet, as I ride toward the edge of snow That cuts the blue, I think. For even so Comes reason to me: ‘Oh, return, return! What folly is it for two souls to burn With hell’s own fire! What is this quest of woe? What is the end? Consider and discern!’ Banish the thought! My working reason still Is the rebellious vassal to my will, Because I will it. That is God’s own mind. I cast all thought and prudence to the wind: On, to the quest! The cursed parrot hill Mocks on, on, on! The thought is left behind.”
  2. “After a while he took the word again: ‘Go thou then moonwards; on the great salt plain; So to a pillar. Adamant, alone, It stands. Around it see them overthrown, King, earl, and knight. There lie the questing slain, A thousand years forgotten–bone by bone. ‘No more is spoken–the tradition goes: ‘There learns the seeker what he seeks or knows,’ Thence–none have passed. The desert leagues may keep Some other secret–some profounder deep Than this one echoed fear: the desert shows Its ghastly triumph–silence. There they sleep. ‘There, brave and pure, there, true and strong, they stay Bleached in the desert, till the solemn day Of God’s revenge–none knoweth them: they rest Unburied, unremembered, unconfessed. What names of strength, of majesty, had they? What suns are these gone down into the West?”
  3. “Oh! my pure heart! Adulterous love began So subtly to identify the man With its own perfumed thoughts. So steals the grape Into the furtive brain–a spirit shape Kisses my spirit as no woman can. I love her–yes; and I have no escape. I never spoke, I never looked! But she Saw through the curtains of the soul of me, And loved me also! It is very well. I am well started on the road to Hell.”
  4. “Then I perceived the stars to reflect a single sun– Not burning suns themselves, in furious regular race, But mirrors of midnight, lit to remind us of His face. Thus I beheld the truth: ye are stars that give me light; But I read you aright and learn I am walking in the night. Then I turned mine eyes away to the Light that is above you: The answering splendid Dawn arose, and I did not love you. I saw the breaking light, and the clouds fled far away: I was the resurrection of the Golden Star of Day. And now I live in Him; my heart may trace the years In drops of virginal blood and springs of virginal tears.”
  5. “I lifted up my eyes. What soul stood there, Fronting my path? Tall, stately, delicate, A woman fairer than a pomegranate. A silver spear her hands of lotus bear, One shaft of moonlight quivering and straight. She pointed to the East with flashing eyes: ‘Thou canst not see her–but my Queen shall rise.’ Bowed head and beating heart, with feet unsure I passed her, trembling, for she was too pure. I could have loved her. No: she was too wise. Her presence was to gracious to endure. ‘She did not bid me go and chain me to her,’ I cried, comparing.”