The Seeds Of Vice

He heard the hooting of an Owl,
It hooted twice, it hooted thrice.
There floated across a thought as foul
As when the Devil tosses the Dice
In Hell whose floor is paved with Vice.
The owl hooted out of a wood
It froze the currents of his blood.
The owl hooted out of a Tree.
The Soul in me said unto me:
"Heardst thou the hooting of the Owl?"
It hooted thrice, it hooted twice;
It clove the passion of the wood;
It was heard in Hell where the seeds of Vice
Turn to ice, in the Serpent's blood;
It wakened the Toad out of his hole,
It stirred the passionate heart of the Fire
(Lat night the Fire created his Soul,
A god-like soul, of his God's desire);
In a lull of the wind his voice was thinned
As the foam is thinned by the angry Sea.
"O Soul, what sin hast thou sinned?"
I said to my soul that had spoken to me,
As the fire flamed and the ruinous root
Of the earth upheaved itself from the clods.
The wind was wild, the owl did hoot,
The Devil laughed at his cloven foot;
The owl it hooted twice and thrice;
The poisonous flower of the seeds of Vice
Grew and grew in the night without light.
Still the owl hooted: the nerves of the Night
Cried in my side; and the seeds that are God's
Trampled the weeds out of Paradise.