Hilda Doolittle

Lethe

    Nor skin nor hide nor fleece
    Shall cover you,
    Nor curtain of crimson nor fine
    Shelter of cedar-wood be over you,
        Nor the fir-tree
        Nor the pine.

    Nor sight of whin nor gorse
        Nor river-yew,
    Nor fragrance of flowering bush,
    Nor wailing of reed-bird to waken you,
        Nor of linnet,
        Nor of thrush.

    Nor word nor touch nor sight
        Of lover, you
    Shall long through the night but for this:
    The roll of the full tide to cover you
        Without question,
        Without kiss.