Palimpsest, p. 206

1926

O/C

First version

Now she may say that I adore her face --
O grave, O true --
For looking on that ruin of her grace --
I shall see mirrored back --
I shall see mirrored back, my own, just you,
all grave and decorous and very rare,
as one set with dull gold --
set with dull gold and amber
and with fair --
as one set with dull gold and amber and with fair
Tyrian blue hyacinths against hyacinth hair.

Version on p. 213, 214.

Now she may say
that I adore her face,
O brave, O true,
for looking on that ruin of her grace,
I shall see mirrored back,
my sun, just you,
all grave and decorous
and very rare,

as one set with dull gold and amber
and with fair
Tyrian-blue hyacinths
against hyacinth hair.

Palimpsest pp. 54-55
1926

OIC

O queen,
lovely who stoop to mortal lover in the inmost house
of tall Achilles --

O queen who stoop
to love a mortal
yet who rise to bear
a god,
O house, O delicate and fair
small house and painted for his rest,
O hear
Thetis O rare
blue water holding in your heart
bright fire,
how did you feel, were you and god at peace?
tell me, O cease --

Palimpsest, pp. 227

Somewhere there rests a shelter and a bed
hung still with heavy gold,
and a gilt chair I think,

turned sideways as one turned
fleeing the sanctum, having yearned and yearned
above a face -- breathing the lotos -- breath --

breathing the lotos breath

of those rare flowers,
the crown and seal of death;

Somewhere there rests this sanctum and this bed
covered now with the finest of rare sand,
pure as snow drifted, one more ornament,

dust of the rarest on that marble floor,
0 strange,
0 fair --

I do not see that heavy gilt and rare
over-leaf of fine gold and thinnest ware
of honey-tinted shell-like alabaster;

but just the faintest stirring of the air,
moved in that place, long lost
long, long, long, gone,
when you so tall, so proud,
came to my room.