#AmericanWriters #FreeVerse #Imagery Imagist
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…
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
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),
I saw the first pear as it fell— the honey—seeking, golden—banded, the yellow swarm was not more fleet than I,
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;
O be swift— we have always known you wanted us… We fled inland with our flocks. we pastured them in hollows, cut off from the wind
From citron—bower be her bed, cut from branch of tree a—flower, fashioned for her maidenhead. From Lydian apples, sweet of hue, cut the width of board and lathe,
Thou art come at length More beautiful Than any cool god In a chamber under Lycia’s far coast,
Hymen, O Hymen king, what bitter thing is this? what shaft, tearing my heart? what scar, what light, what fire searing my eye—balls and my eyes w…
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.
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,
Over and back, the long waves crawl and track the sand with foam; night darkens, and the sea takes on that desperate tone
I have had enough. I gasp for breath. Every way ends, every road, every foot-path leads at last to the hill-crest—
Silver dust lifted from the earth, higher than my arms reach, you have mounted. O silver,