Side A of
Color Record No. 13:
and an
old imagist poem with a river—
Wash of
Cold River
By H. D.
Wash
of cold river
in a
glacial land,
Ionian
water,
chill,
snow-ribbed sand,
drift
of rare flowers,
clear,
with delicate shell-
like
leaf enclosing
frozen
lily-leaf,
camellia
texture,
colder
than a rose;
wind-flower
that
keeps the breath
of the
north-wind—
these
and none other;
intimate
thoughts and kind
reach
out to share
the
treasure of my mind,
intimate
hands and dear
drawn
garden-ward and sea-ward
all
the sheer rapture
that I
would take
to
mould a clear
and
frigid statue;
rare,
of pure texture,
beautiful
space and line,
marble
to grace
your
inaccessible shrine.
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