Hilda Doolittle (10 September 1886 – 27 September 1961 / Bethlehem, Pennsylvania)

poet Hilda Doolittle
#327 on top 500 poets
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Helen

All Greece hates
the still eyes in the white face,
the lustre as of olives
where she stands,
and the white hands.

All Greece reviles
the wan face when she smiles,
hating it deeper still
when it grows wan and white,
remembering past enchantments
and past ills.

Greece sees, unmoved,
God's daughter, born of love,
the beauty of cool feet
and slenderest knees,
could love indeed the maid,
only if she were laid,
white ash amid funereal cypresses.

Hilda Doolittle
Submitted: Friday, January 03, 2003


Read poems about / on: daughter, beauty, god, love, hate, remember, smile

Comments about this poem (Helen by Hilda Doolittle )

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  • Jerome Peterson (8/22/2006 3:28:00 PM)

    I start out my advanced ESL class by projecting a page from my Poetry Speaks day calendar for that day. For September 9 I find a biography of H.R., so I sought a short poem for the class to read. I found Helen, which couldn't be more apropos. The sentiment is very clear and set forth in imagery that is sharp, a signature of H.R. Helen won the hatred of the Greeks for past enchantments and past ills, and the Greeks could love her only if she were burned in a funeral pyre. Aaargg.

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