Keener delight, a sense of deadly fear!
This secret: Thou art darkness in Thyself,
And evil wrapped in light, and ugliness
Vested in beauty! Therefore is my love
No petty passion like these country-folk’s:
No fertile glory (as the Love of God):
But vast and barren as the winter sea,
Holding I know not what enormous soul
In its salt bitter bosom, underneath
The iron waters and the serpent foam;