Orchard (Hilda Doolittle Poems)
I saw the first pearas it fell--the honey-seeking, golden-banded,the yellow swarmwas not more fleet than I,(spare us from loveliness)and I ...
I saw the first pearas it fell--the honey-seeking, golden-banded,the yellow swarmwas not more fleet than I,(spare us from loveliness)and I ...
Wash of cold river in a glacial land, Ionian water, chill, snow-ribbed sand, drift of rare flowers, clear, with delicate ...
The mysteries remain, I keep the same cycle of seed-time and of sun and rain; Demeter in the grass, I ...
Are you alive? I touch you. You quiver like a sea-fish. I cover you with my net. What are you ...
Silver dust lifted from the earth, higher than my arms reach, you have mounted. O silver, higher than my arms ...
Amber husk fluted with gold, fruit on the sand marked with a rich grain, treasure spilled near the shrub-pines to ...
Rose, harsh rose, marred and with stint of petals, meagre flower, thin, sparse of leaf, more precious than a wet ...
I have had enough. I gasp for breath. Every way ends, every road, every foot-path leads at last to the ...
Stars wheel in purple, yours is not so rare as Hesperus, nor yet so great a star as bright Aldeboran ...
From citron-bower be her bed, cut from branch of tree a-flower, fashioned for her maidenhead. From Lydian apples, sweet of ...
O wind, rend open the heat, cut apart the heat, rend it to tatters. Fruit cannot drop through this thick ...
All Greece hates the still eyes in the white face, the lustre as of olives where she stands, and the ...
Where the slow river meets the tide, a red swan lifts red wings and darker beak, and underneath the purple ...
Whirl up, sea- Whirl your pointed pines. Splash your great pines On our rocks. Hurl your green over us- Cover ...
Over and back, the long waves crawl and track the sand with foam; night darkens, and the sea takes on ...
O Hymen king. Hymen, O Hymen king, what bitter thing is this? what shaft, tearing my heart? what scar, what ...
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 ...
I should have thought in a dream you would have brought some lovely, perilous thing, orchids piled in a great ...
Bear me to Dictaeus, and to the steep slopes; to the river Erymanthus. I choose spray of dittany, cyperum, frail ...
1. Each of us like you has died once, has passed through drift of wood-leaves, cracked and bent and tortured ...
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