steeped in the red pulp

of bursting sea-sloes—

turn, turn, turn my wheel!

(Ah did he think

I did not know,

I did not feel—

what wrack, what weal for him:

golden one, golden one,

turn again Aphrodite with the yellow zone,

I am cursed, cursed, undone!

Ah and my face, Aphrodite,

beside your gold,

is cut out of white stone!)

Laurel blossom and the red seed

of the red vervain weed,

burn, crackle in the fire,

burn, crackle for my need!

Laurel leaf, O fruited

branch of bay,

burn, burn away

 Prev. P 24/71 next