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

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

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…

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

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

YOU are as gold as the half—ripe grain that merges to gold again, as white as the white rain that beats through

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

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…

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

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

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