Explore "Centaur Song" by Hilda Doolittle on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Now that the day is done, / now that the night creeps soft / and dims the chestnut clusters' / radiant spike of flower, / O sweet, till dawn / break through the branches / of our orchard-garden, / rest in this shelter / of the osier-wood and thorn.
They fall, / the apple-flowers; / nor softer grace has Aphrodite / in the heaven afar, / nor at so fair a pace / open the flower-petals / as your face bends down, / while, breath on breath, / your mouth wanders / from my mouth o'er my face.