Poem by Elinor Wylie

Valentine

Too high, too high to pluck 
My heart shall swing. 
A fruit no bee shall suck, 
No wasp shall sting.

If on some night of cold 
It falls to ground 
In apple-leaves of gold 
I’ll wrap it round.

And I shall seal it up 
With spice and salt, 
In a carven silver cup, 
In a deep vault.

Before my eyes are blind 
And my lips mute, 
I must eat core and rind 
Of that same fruit.

Before my heart is dust 
By the end of all, 
Eat it I must, I must 
Were it bitter gall.

But I shall keep it sweet 
By some strange art; 
Wild honey I shall eat 
When I eat my heart.

O honey cool and chaste 
As clover’s breath! 
Sweet Heaven I shall taste 
Before my death.

1. Upon Your Heart, Which Is.the Heart of All
2. In Our Content, before the Autumn Came
3. The Pekingese
4. One Person
5. Absent Thee from Felicity Awhile

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