The World

By day she woos me, soft, exceeding fair:But all night as the moon so changeth she;Loathsome and foul with hideous leprosyAnd subtle serpents gliding in her hair.By day she woos me to the outer air,Ripe fruit, sweet flowers, and full satiety:But through the night, a beast she grins at me,A very monster void of love and prayer.By day she stands a lie: by night she standsIn all the naked horror of the truthWith pushing horns and clawed and clutching hands.Is this a friend indeed; that I should sellMy soul to her, give her my life and youth,Till my feet, cloven too, take hold on hell?