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…

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

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…

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

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;

Silver dust lifted from the earth, higher than my arms reach, you have mounted. O silver,

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

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

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

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

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

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