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Could beauty be beaten out, O youth the cities have sent to strike at each other's strength, it is you who have kept her alight.

Hilda Doolittle

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Hilda Doolittle
Youth
Strength
Alight
Cities
Idealism
Beauty
Strike
Beaten
Sent
Strikes
Kept

More quotes by Hilda Doolittle

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I will be free, no lover's kiss to bind me to earth, no bliss of love to counteract actual bliss.
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Light threatens, is active, is gone, so it is with a song.
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In my garden the winds have beaten the ripe lilies in my garden, the salt has wilted the first flakes of young narcissus.
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Take what the old-church found in Mithra's tomb, candle and script and bell, take what the new-church spat upon and broke and shattered.
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We are voyagers, discoverers of the not-known, the unrecorded we have no map possibly we will reach haven, heaven.
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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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Love is a garment riven in the light that rises from Parnassus, showing the night is over.
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I spit honey out of my mouth: nothing is second-best after the sweet of Eros.
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Lift up our eyes to you? no, God, we stare and stare, upon a nearer thing that greets us here, Death, violent and near.
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The elixir of life, the philosopher's stone is yours if you surrender sterile logic, trivial reason.
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Not God with wine, nor death, nor hate for a cry, but God with a song
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There must be real gods see, the painted gods how fair!
Hilda Doolittle
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A slight wind shakes the seed-pods my thoughts are spent as the black seeds.
Hilda Doolittle
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Pompeii has nothing to teach us, we know crack of volcanic fissure, slow flow of terrible lava, pressure on heart, lungs, the brain about to burst its brittle case (what the skull can endure!)
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Ardent yet chill and formal, how I ache to tempt a chisel as a sculptor.
Hilda Doolittle
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The stallion and his mare, unbridled, with arrow-pattern, are worked on. the blue cloth before the door of religion and inspiration.
Hilda Doolittle
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I fear no man, no woman flower does not fear bird, insect nor adder.
Hilda Doolittle
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Sing and your hell is heaven, your heaven less hell.
Hilda Doolittle
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Dance until the earth dance.
Hilda Doolittle
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Let Love step down, open the clasped hands, forfeit the thorny crown, retrieve the garment that was whole, body and spirit one, spirit and soul.
Hilda Doolittle