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Poem by Elinor Wylie


Say not of beauty she is good, 
Or aught but beautiful, 
Or sleek to doves wings of the wood 
Her wild wings of a gull.

Call her not wicked; that words touch 
Consumes her like a curse; 
But love her not too much, too much, 
For that is even worse.

O, she is neither good nor bad, 
But innocent and wild! 
Enshrine her and she dies, who had 
The hard heart of a child.

Elinor Wylie

Elinor Wylie's other poems:
  1. Madmans Song
  2. Primavera in the North
  3. Curious Circumstance
  4. The Lost Path
  5. Venetian Interior

Poems of the other poets with the same name:

  • Edward Thomas Beauty ("WHAT does it mean? Tired, angry, and ill at ease")
  • Abraham Cowley Beauty ("LIBERAL Nature did dispence")
  • John Harington Beauty ("Such colour had her face as when the sun")
  • Jones Very Beauty ("I gazed upon thy face-and beating life")

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