Helen, had I but known yesterday, That you could discharge the ache Out of the wound; Had I known yesterday you could take The turgid electric ache away, Drink it up in the ground Of your soft white body, as lightning Is drunk from an agonised sky by the earth, I should have hated you, Helen. But since my limbs gushed full of fire, Since from out of my blood and bone Poured a heavy flame To you, earth of my atmosphere, stone Of my steel, lovely white flint of desire, You have no name. Earth of my swaying atmosphere, Substance of my inconstant breath, I cannot but cleave to you, Helen. Since you have drunken up the drear Death-darkened storm, and death Is washed from the blue Of my eyes, I see you beautiful, and dear. Beautiful, passive, and strong, as the breath Of my yearning blows over you. I see myself as the winds that hover Half substanceless, and without grave worth. But you Are the earth I hover over. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VILLAGE IN LATE SUMMER by CARL SANDBURG BUCOLIC COMEDY: THE BEAR by EDITH SITWELL WHERE MY BOOKS GO by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS TO THE LADYBIRD by MOTHER GOOSE REUBEN BRIGHT by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON |