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;

YOU are as gold as the half—ripe grain that merges to gold again, as white as the white rain that beats through

Are you alive? I touch you. You quiver like a sea—fish. I cover you with my net. What are you —banded one?

Will you glimmer on the sea? Will you fling your spear—head On the shore? What note shall we pitch? We have a song,

Thou art come at length More beautiful Than any cool god In a chamber under Lycia’s far coast,

Bear me to Dictaeus, and to the steep slopes; to the river Erymanthus. I choose spray of dittany, cyperum, frail of flower,

Where the slow river meets the tide, a red swan lifts red wings and darker beak, and underneath the purple down

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…

Can we believe—by an effort comfort our hearts: it is not waste all this, not placed here in disgust, street after street,

White, O white face— from disenchanted days wither alike dark rose and fiery bays: no gift within our hands,

I saw the first pear as it fell— the honey—seeking, golden—banded, the yellow swarm was not more fleet than I,

Whirl up, sea— whirl your pointed pines, splash your great pines on our rocks, hurl your green over us,