Song

YOU are as gold
as the half-ripe grain
that merges to gold again,
as white as the white rain
that beats through
the half-opened flowers
of the great flower tufts
thick on the black limbs
of an Illyrian apple bough.

Can honey distill such fragrance
as your bright hair-
for your face is as fair as rain,
yet as rain that lies clear
on white honey-comb,
lends radiance to the white wax,
so your hair on your brow
casts light for a shadow.

by Hilda Doolittle

Other poems of DOOLITTLE (33)

Comments (12)

Giving full marks to the elegance and the beauty of some renowned ladies, the poet finds his muse a cut above the rest and he tells it quite gracefully. Great poem.
i find this poem delightful. i admit, though, i am positively inclined to kilmer from his justly famous poem trees. quite different than this one, but for some reason i'm reminded of shakespeare's sonnet which begins, my mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun. -glen
I would presume from this delightful poem thgat the author did NOT have a roving eye. Yea for love and Joyce Kilmer!
Evoking all the classical comparisons and finding 'No lady is so as mine'
Look into me this is my lady my lovely lady lives in me into this den of heart peacefully with love on the palanquin of rosy buds .............. greatly written
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