#Americans #Imagist #Women
Wash of cold river in a glacial land, Ionian water, chill, snow—ribbed sand, drift of rare flowers,
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…
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…
Can we believe—by an effort comfort our hearts: it is not waste all this, not placed here in disgust, street after street,
White, O white face— from disenchanted days wither alike dark rose and fiery bays: no gift within our hands,
Will you glimmer on the sea? Will you fling your spear—head On the shore? What note shall we pitch? We have a song,
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,
Where the slow river meets the tide, a red swan lifts red wings and darker beak, and underneath the purple down
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;
The light passes from ridge to ridge, from flower to flower— the hepaticas, wide—spread under the light
You are clear O rose, cut in rock, hard as the descent of hail. I could scrape the colour from the petals
I have had enough. I gasp for breath. Every way ends, every road, every foot-path leads at last to the hill-crest—
Are you alive? I touch you. You quiver like a sea—fish. I cover you with my net. What are you —banded one?
I saw the first pear as it fell— the honey—seeking, golden—banded, the yellow swarm was not more fleet than I,
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