Explore "Epigrams" by Hilda Doolittle on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
1. O ruthless, perilous, imperious hate, / you can not thwart / the promptings of my soul, / you can not weaken nay nor dominate / Love that is mateless, / Love the rite, / the whole measure of being: / would you crush with bondage? / nay, you would love me not / were I your slave.
2. Torture me not with this or that or this, / Love is my master, / you his lesser self; / while you are Love, / I love you generously, / be Eros, / not a tyrannous, bitter mate: / Love has no charm / when Love is swept to earth: / you'd make a lop-winged god, / frozen and contrite, / of god up-darting, / winged for passionate flight.