Forbidden Pleasure

Quick! The black, sulphurous, never quenched,

Old festering fire begins to play

Once more within. Look! By brute force I have wrenched

Unmercifully my hands the other way.

Quick, Lord! On the rack thus, stretched tight,

Nerves clamouring as at nature's wrong.

Scorched to the quick, whipp'd raw—Lord, in this plight

You see, you see no man can suffer long.

Quick, Lord! Before new scorpions bring

New venom—ere fiends blow the fire

A second time—quick, show me that sweet thing

Which, 'spite of all, more deeply I desire.

C.S. Lewis

Poems (Bles) 1964