Hermes, and Thoth, and Christ, are rotten now,
Rotten and dank.
. . . .
And through it all I see your pale Greek face;
Tenderness makes me as eager as a little child
To love you
You morsel left half cold on Caesar’s plate.
Richard Aldington
BEAUTY THOU HAST HURT ME OVERMUCH
The light is a wound to me.