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Poem by Elinor Wylie


If we must cheat ourselves with any dream, 
Then let it be a dream of nobleness: 
Since it is necessary to express 
Gall from black grapes--to sew an endless seam 
With a rusty needle--chase a spurious gleam 
Narrowing to the nothing through the less-- 
Since lifes no better than a bitter guess, 
And loves a stranger--let us change the theme.

Let us at least pretend--it may be true-- 
That we can close our lips on poisonous 
Dark wine diluted by the Stygean wave; 
And let me dream sublimity in you, 
And courage, liberal for the two of us: 
Let us at least pretend we can be brave.

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

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