#Americans #Imagist #Women
Silver dust lifted from the earth, higher than my arms reach, you have mounted. O silver,
Crash on crash of the sea, straining to wreck men; sea—boards… raging against the world, furious, stay at last, for against your fur… and your mad fight,
Will you glimmer on the sea? Will you fling your spear—head On the shore? What note shall we pitch? We have a song,
Stars wheel in purple, yours is no… as Hesperus, nor yet so great a st… as bright Aldeboran or Sirius, nor yet the stained and brilliant… stars turn in purple, glorious to…
The white violet is scented on its stalk, the sea—violet fragile as agate, lies fronting all the wind
I first tasted under Apollo’s lip… love and love sweetness, I, Evadne; my hair is made of crisp violets or hyacinth which the wind combs b…
White, O white face— from disenchanted days wither alike dark rose and fiery bays: no gift within our hands,
Amber husk fluted with gold, fruit on the sand marked with a rich grain, treasure
So you have swept me back, I who could have walked with the l… above the earth, I who could have slept among the l… at last;
I saw the first pear as it fell— the honey—seeking, golden—banded, the yellow swarm was not more fleet than I,
YOU are as gold as the half—ripe grain that merges to gold again, as white as the white rain that beats through
All Greece hates the still eyes in the white face, the lustre as of olives where she stands, and the white hands.
O wind, rend open the heat, cut apart the heat, rend it to tatters. Fruit cannot drop through this thick air—
Bear me to Dictaeus, and to the steep slopes; to the river Erymanthus. I choose spray of dittany, cyperum, frail of flower,
Wash of cold river in a glacial land, Ionian water, chill, snow—ribbed sand, drift of rare flowers,