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;

Weed, moss—weed, root tangled in sand, sea—iris, brittle flower, one petal like a shell is broken,

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…

Amber husk fluted with gold, fruit on the sand marked with a rich grain, treasure

The mysteries remain, I keep the same cycle of seed—time and of sun and rain; Demeter in the grass,

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

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

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),

Over and back, the long waves crawl and track the sand with foam; night darkens, and the sea takes on that desperate tone

Each of us like you has died once, has passed through drift of wood—l… cracked and bent and tortured and unbent

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

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