Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, SEA HOLLY, by CONRAD AIKEN



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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

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SEA HOLLY, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: Begotten by the meeting of rock with rock
Last Line: The rock loved and laboured; and all is lost.
Subject(s): Loss


BEGOTTEN by the meeting of rock with rock,
The mating of rock and rock, rocks gnashing together;
Created so, and yet forgetful, walks
The seaward path, puts up her left hand, shades
Blue eyes, the eyes of rock, to see better
In slanting light the ancient sheep (which kneels

Biting the grass) the while her other hand,
Holding the wicker handle, turns the basket
Of eggs. The sea is high to-day. The eggs
Are cheaper. The sea is blown from the southwest
Confused, taking up sand and mud in waves.
The waves break, sluggish, in brown foam, the wind
Disperses (on the sheep and hawthorn) spray, --
And on her cheeks, the cheeks engendered of rock
And eyes, the colour of rock. The left hand
Falls from the eyes, and undecided slides
Over the left breast on which muslin lightly
Rests, touching the nipple, and then down
The hollow side, virgin as rock, and bitterly
Caresses the blue hip.
It was for this,
This obtuse taking of the seaward path,
This stupid hearing of larks, this hooking
Of wicker, this absent observation of sheep
Kneeling in harsh sea-grass, the cool hand shading
The spray-stung eyes -- it was for this the rock
Smote itself. The sea is higher to-day,
And eggs are cheaper. The eyes of rock take in
The seaward path that winds toward the sea,
The thistle-prodder, old woman under a bonnet,
Forking the thistles, her back against the sea,
Pausing, with hard hands on the handle, peering
With rock-eyes from her bonnet.
It was for this,
This rock-lipped facing of brown waves, half sand
And half water, this tentative hand that slides
Over the breast of rock, and into the hollow
Soft side of muslin rock, and then fiercely
Almost as rock against the hip of rock --
It was for this in midnight the rocks met,
And dithered together, cracking and smoking.
It was for this,
Barren beauty, barrenness of rock that aches

On the seaward path, seeing the fruitful sea,
Hearing the lark of rock that sings, smelling
The rock-flower of hawthorn, sweetness of rock, --
It was for this, stone-pain in the stony heart,
The rock loved and laboured; and all is lost.




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