A slight wind shakes the seed-pods my thoughts are spent as the black seeds..

Who dreams of a son, save one, childless, having no bright face to flatter its own, who dreams of a son?.

There must be real gods see, the painted gods how fair!.

I could not accept from wisdom what love taught, woman is perfect..

The stallion and his mare, unbridled, with arrow-pattern, are worked on. the blue cloth before the door of religion and inspiration..

Think of the moment you count most foul in your life; conjure it, supplicate, pray to it; your face is bleak, you retract, you dare not remember it..

That way of inspiration is always open, and open to everyone; it acts as go-between, interpreter, it explains symbols of the past in to-day's imagery..

Maid of the luminous grey-eyes, Mistress of honey and marble implacable white thighs and Goddess, chaste daughter of Zeus..

Alas, day, you brought light, You trailed splendour You showed us god: I salute you, most precious one, But I go to a new place, Another life..

No man will be present in those mysteries, yet all men will kneel, no man will be potent, important, yet all men will feel what it is to be a woman..

Long hours trail in their purple and long years are lost in just this moment while our souls are near, our mouths separate..

War is a fevered god who takes alike maiden and king and clod..

For you are abstract, making no mistake, slurring no word in the rhythm you make, the poem, writ in the air..

Luminous, unfearful; high-priestesses, our fervour shall banish all evil..

Ah love is bitter and sweet, but which is more sweet the bitterness or the sweetness, none has spoken it..

Cheat me not with time, with the dull ache of flesh, for all flesh turns, even the loveliest ankle and frail thigh, to bitterest dust..

Our minds can go no further. The human imagination is capable of no further expression of beauty than the carved owl of Athene, the archaic, marble s….

You will not see that desire begets love, until it all flames into one concise and metallic blaze..

Fall the deep curtains, delicate the weave, fair the thread..

I fear no man, no woman; flower does not fear bird, insect nor adder..

We are these people, wistful, ironical, wilful, who have no part in new-world reconstruction, in the confederacy of labour..