Quote

War wreaked on you his hideous ravishment We, we alone, Nereids inviolate, Remain to weep, with the sea-birds to chant: Corinth is lost, Corinth is desolate.

Hilda Doolittle

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Hilda Doolittle
Loss
Desolate
Alone
Hideous
War
Weep
Lost
Birds
Remain
Destruction
Wreaked
Bird
Inviolate
Sea
Chant

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There must be real gods see, the painted gods how fair!
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Luminous, unfearful high-priestesses, our fervour shall banish all evil.
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It is no madness to say you will fall, you great cities.
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(Those women whom the distaff no longer claims nor spun cloth) driven made, mad, mad by Bacchus.
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Ardent yet chill and formal, how I ache to tempt a chisel as a sculptor.
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