SONG

by: Hilda Doolittle (1886-1961)

      OU 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.

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