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

Lift up our eyes to you? no, God, we stare and stare, upon a nearer thing that greets us here, Death, violent and near..

There's a black rose growing in your garden..

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..

O beautiful white land, olives and wild anemone and violet mingled among the shale, and purple wings of little winter-butterflies say, here Psyche, t….

I spit honey out of my mouth: nothing is second-best after the sweet of Eros..

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

Passionate grave thought, belief enhanced, ritual returned and magic..

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….

I had drawn away into the salt, myself, a shell emptied of life..

Writing. Love is writing..

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

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

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

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

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..

But beauty is set apart, beauty is cast by the sea, a barren rock, beauty is set about with wrecks of ships..

In my garden the winds have beaten the ripe lilies; in my garden, the salt has wilted the first flakes of young narcissus..

I will be free, no lover's kiss to bind me to earth, no bliss of love to counteract actual bliss..

(Those women whom the distaff no longer claims nor spun cloth) driven made, mad, mad by Bacchus..

O happy, happy each man whom predestined fate leads to the holy rite of hill and mountain worship..