But a throbbing core of flesh, that knew
Nor beauty, nor truth, nor anything
But the black sky and the slimy earth:
Roots of trees, and fear, and pain,
The blank of death, the pangs of birth,
An inhuman thing possess'd
By the throbbing of a drum:
And my lips were strange and numb,
But they kissed her white breast....
Then, being drunk with pride and splendour of love, I cried: