“And
sip, with Nymphs, their elemental Tea.”
Alexander Pope, The Rape of the Lock
Some of them still abound
in symmetry and grace.
Entirely from tip to toe.
Like undines clad
in streaming surfs.
Elsewhere surface
serves beneath
not much else
but hollowness
of vacant shells,
but in them swells a depth
which the intimate outermost
terms its temple and its home;
there, all is heard, and all is known,
and yet all that is and has been
Beauty winnows into ardent notes.
No comments:
Post a Comment