Elinor Morton Wylie

(7 September 1885 – 16 December 1928 / Somerville, New Jersey)

Spring Pastoral - Poem by Elinor Morton Wylie

Liza, go steep your long white hands
In the cool waters of that spring
Which bubbles up through shiny sands
The colour of a wild-dove's wing.

Dabble your hands, and steep them well
Until those nails are pearly white
Now rosier than a laurel bell;
Then come to me at candlelight.

Lay your cold hands across my brows,
And I shall sleep, and I shall dream
Of silver-pointed willow boughs
Dipping their fingers in a stream.


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Read poems about / on: silver, spring, sleep, dream, water



Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003



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