#Americans #Imagist #Women
I saw the first pear as it fell— the honey—seeking, golden—banded, the yellow swarm was not more fleet than I,
The mysteries remain, I keep the same cycle of seed—time and of sun and rain; Demeter in the grass,
Bear me to Dictaeus, and to the steep slopes; to the river Erymanthus. I choose spray of dittany, cyperum, frail of flower,
Can we believe—by an effort comfort our hearts: it is not waste all this, not placed here in disgust, street after street,
Wash of cold river in a glacial land, Ionian water, chill, snow—ribbed sand, drift of rare flowers,
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 light passes from ridge to ridge, from flower to flower— the hepaticas, wide—spread under the light
Will you glimmer on the sea? Will you fling your spear—head On the shore? What note shall we pitch? We have a song,
I have had enough. I gasp for breath. Every way ends, every road, every foot-path leads at last to the hill-crest—
Rose, harsh rose, marred and with stint of petals, meagre flower, thin, sparse of leaf, more precious
I should have thought in a dream you would have brought some lovely, perilous thing, orchids piled in a great sheath, as who would say (in a dream),
Weed, moss—weed, root tangled in sand, sea—iris, brittle flower, one petal like a shell is broken,
All Greece hates the still eyes in the white face, the lustre as of olives where she stands, and the white hands.
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…
NOR skin nor hide nor fleece Shall cover you, Nor curtain of crimson nor fine Shelter of cedar—wood be over you, Nor the fir—tree