Explore "Helen" by Hilda Doolittle on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
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.