Hilda Doolittle

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The lonely heart,
the broken vow
have no place now;

the great take precedence of none,
where widow, wife 
and maid are one,

virgins about a bride
whose Lord is theirs or ours,

Men’s thoughts fling
living wires overhead,
the swallow wings there—dead. 

Have men’s words speeding
through the wind more worth,
than this bird
flung to earth?

Let Love sway free,
bound with no nails,
nor broken, joint and knee;

let Love step down,
open the clasped hands,
forfeit the thorny crown

retrieve the garment
that was whole,
body and spirit one, spirit and soul.  

London July, 1940