Tag Archives: Elinor Morton Wylie

Valentine – Elinor Morton Wylie

Too high, too high to pluck My heart shall swing. A fruit no bee shall suck, No wasp shall sting. If on some night of cold It falls to the ground In apple-leaves of gold I’ll wrap it around. And I shall seal it up With spice … Continue reading

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Winter Sleep – Elinor Morton Wylie

When against earth a wooden heel Clicks as loud as stone on steel, When stone turns flour instead of flakes, And frost bakes clay as fire bakes, When the hard-bitten fields at last Crack like iron flawed in the cast, … Continue reading

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