Poem by Ezra Weston Loomis Pound

Erat Hora

'Thank you, whatever comes.' And then she turned
And, as the ray of sun on hanging flowers
Fades when the wind hath lifted them aside,
Went swiftly from me. Nay, whatever comes
One hour was sunlit and the most high gods
May not make boast of any better thing
Than to have watched that hour as it passed.


Erat Hora is Latin for "It was for an hour. . ."

1. Ballatetta
2. In a Station of the Metro
3. A Girl
4. Portrait d'Une Femme

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