Poem by Elinor Wylie

* * *

Now let no charitable hope 
Confuse my mind with images 
Of eagle and of antelope: 
I am by nature none of these. 

I was, being human, born alone; 
I am, being woman, hard beset; 
I live by squeezing from a stone 
What little nourishment I get. 

In masks outrageous and austere 
The years go by in single file; 
But none has merited my fear, 
And none has quite escaped my smile.

1. Upon Your Heart, Which Is.the Heart of All
2. One Person
3. Poor Earth
4. Silver Filigree
5. The Broken Man

Print

1787 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version