Thursday 24 January 2013

'may love not lie beside me?'


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O Hymen king,
lord, greatest, power, might,
look for my face is dark,
burnt with your light, 
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your fire, O Hymen lord;
is there none left
can equal me
in ecstasy, desire?
is there none left
can bear with me
the kiss of your white fire?
is there not one,
Phrygian or frenzied Greek,
poet, song-swept, or bard,
one meet to take from me
this bitter power of song,
one fit to speak, Hymen,
your praises, lord?

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May I not wed
as you have wed?
may it not break, beauty,
from out my hands, my head, my feet?
may Love not lie beside me
till his heat
burn me to ash? 
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may he not comfort me, then,
spent of all that fire and heat,
still, ashen-white and cool
as the wet laurels,
white, before your feet
step on the mountain-slope,
before your fiery hand
lift up the mantle
covering flower and land,
as a man lifts,
O Hymen, from his bride, 
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(cowering with woman eyes,) the veil?
O Hymen lord, be kind.

from:
Cassandra, by HD (Hilda Doolittle),  Collected Poems 1912-1944, New Directions Publishing Corp. 1982