THE SUMMIT OF THE AMOROUS MOUNTAIN
TO love you, Love, is all my happiness;
To kill you with my kisses; to devour
Your whole ripe beauty in the perfect hour
That mingles us in one supreme caress;
To drink the purple of your thighs; to press
Your beating bosom like a living flower;
To die in your embraces, in the shower
That dews like death your swooning loveliness
To know you love me; that your body leaps
With the quick passion of your soul; to know
Your fragrant kisses sting my spirit so;
To be one soul where Satan smiles and sleeps;—
Ah! in the very triumph-hour of Hell
Satan himself remembers whence he fell!
Source: The Temple of the Holy Ghost, I, The Court of the Profane, in The Collected Works of Aleister Crowley, Volume I (1905), published online by The Hermetic Library. I took the indentation of the verses and the decomposition of the poem into two stanzas from digitisation of the original on the IAPSOP site.