Helen (Hilda Doolittle Poem)
All Greece hates the still eyes in the white face, the lustre as of olives where she stands, and the ...
All Greece hates the still eyes in the white face, the lustre as of olives where she stands, and the ...
I should have thought in a dream you would have brought some lovely, perilous thing, orchids piled in a great ...
Over and back, the long waves crawl and track the sand with foam; night darkens, and the sea takes on ...
Can we believe -- by an effort comfort our hearts: it is not waste all this, not placed here in ...
I first tasted under Apollo's lips, love and love sweetness, I, Evadne; my hair is made of crisp violets or ...
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