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Dreamy, Elinor Wylie, in English Clear filters

DreamyElinor Wylie

Valentine

Too high, too high to pluck My heart shall swing. A fruit no bee shall suck, No wasp shall sting. If on some night of cold It falls to ground In apple-leaves of gold I'll wrap it round. And I shall seal it up With spice and salt, In a carven silver cup, In a deep vault. Before my eyes are blind And my lips mute, I must eat core and rind Of that same fruit.
DreamyElinor Wylie

Velvet Shoes

Let us walk in the white snow In a soundless space; With footsteps quiet and slow, At a tranquil pace, Under veils of white lace. I shall go shod in silk, And you in wool, White as a white cow's milk, More beautiful Than the breast of a gull. We shall walk through the still town In a windless peace; We shall step upon white down, Upon silver fleece, Upon softer than these. We shall walk in velvet shoes:
DreamyElinor Wylie

The Falcon

Why should my sleepy heart be taught To whistle mocking-bird replies? This is another bird you've caught, Soft-feathered, with a falcon's eyes. The bird Imagination, That flies so far, that dies so soon; Her wings are colored like the sun, Her breast is colored like the moon. Weave her a chain of silver twist, And a little hood of scarlet wool, And let her perch upon your wrist, And tell her she is beautiful.
DreamyElinor Wylie

Silver Filigree

The icicles wreathing On trees in festoon Swing, swayed to our breathing: They're made of the moon. She's a pale, waxen taper; And these seem to drip Transparent as paper From the flame of her tip. Molten, smoking a little, Into crystal they pass; Falling, freezing, to brittle And delicate glass. Each a sharp-pointed flower, Each a brief stalactite Which hangs for an hour In the blue cave of night.
DreamyElinor Wylie

Incantation

A white well In a black cave; A bright shell In a dark wave. A white rose Black brambles hood; Smooth bright snows In a dark wood. A flung white glove In a dark fight; A white dove On a wild black night. A white door In a dark lane; A bright core To bitter black pain.
DreamyElinor Wylie

Escape

When foxes eat the last gold grape, And the last white antelope is killed, I shall stop fighting and escape Into a little house I'll build. But first I'll shrink to fairy size, With a whisper no one understands, Making blind moons of all your eyes, And muddy roads of all your hands. And you may grope for me in vain In hollows under the mangrove root, Or where, in apple-scented rain, The silver wasp-nests hang like fruit.
DreamyElinor Wylie

Sunset on the Spire

All that I dream By day or night Lives in that stream Of lovely light. Here is the earth, And there is the spire; This is my hearth, And that is my fire. From the sun's dome I am shouted proof That this is my home, And that is my roof. Here is my food, And here is my drink, And I am wooed From the moon's brink.
DreamyElinor Wylie

Winter Sleep

When against earth a wooden heel Clicks as loud as stone and steel, When snow turns flour instead of flakes, And frost bakes clay as fire bakes, When the hard-bitten fields at last Crack like iron flawed in the cast, When the world is wicked and cross and old, I long to be quit of the cruel cold. Little birds like bubbles of glass Fly to other Americas, Birds as bright as sparkles of wine Fly in the night to the Argentine, Birds of azure and flame-birds go To the tropical Gulf of Mexico: They chase the sun, they follow the heat, It is sweet in their bones, O sweet, sweet, sweet!

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