Explore "Kore" by Frederic Manning on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
TO MRS. W. N. MACMILLAN
Yea, she hath passed hereby, and blessed the sheaves, / And the great garths, and stacks, and quiet farms, / And all the tawny and the crimson leaves.
Yea, she hath passed, with poppies in her arms, / Under the star of dusk, through stealing mist, / And blessed the earth, and gone, while no man wist.
With slow, reluctant feet, and weary eyes, / And eyelids heavy with the coming sleep, / With small breasts lifted up in stress of sighs, / She passed, as shadows pass, among the sheep; / While the earth dreamed, and only I was ware / Of that faint fragrance blown from her soft hair.
The land lay steeped in peace of silent dreams; / There was no sound amid the sacred boughs, / Nor any mournful music in her streams: / Only I saw the shadow on her brows, / Only I knew her for the yearly slain, / And wept; and weep until she come again.