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

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

I saw the first pear as it fell— the honey—seeking, golden—banded, the yellow swarm was not more fleet than I,

Where the slow river meets the tide, a red swan lifts red wings and darker beak, and underneath the purple down

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

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…

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,

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

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

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

Will you glimmer on the sea? Will you fling your spear—head On the shore? What note shall we pitch? We have a song,

The light passes from ridge to ridge, from flower to flower— the hepaticas, wide—spread under the light