Explore "The Whole White World" by Hilda Doolittle on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The whole white world is ours, / and the world, purple with rose-bays, / bays, bush on bush, / group, thicket, hedge and tree, / dark islands in a sea / of grey-green olive or wild white-olive, / cut with the sudden cypress shafts, / in clusters, two or three, / or with one slender, single cypress-tree.
Slid from the hill, / as crumbling snow-peaks slide, / citron on citron fill / the valley, and delight / waits till our spirits tire / of forest, grove and bush / and purple flower of the laurel-tree.
Yet not one wearies, / joined is each to each / in happiness complete / with bush and flower: / ours is the wind-breath / at the hot noon-hour, / ours is the bee's soft belly / and the blush of the rose-petal, / lifted, of the flower.