“The World”: A Sonnet by Christina Rossetti

By day she woos me, soft, exceeding fair:

     But all night as the moon so changeth she;

     Loathsome and foul with hideous leprosy

And subtle serpents gliding in her hair.

By day she woos me to the outer air,

     Ripe fruits, sweet flowers, and 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 stands

     In all the naked horror of the truth

With pushing horns and clawed and clutching hands

Is this a friend indeed; that I should sell

     My soul to her, give her my life and youth,

Till my feet, cloven too, take hold of hell?