Thou, Medea, counselled in the sowing Of cruel ivory tushes when the new moon shone, Full blood moon and the bitter crop growing! Reap it to the root now. Name it thy own. Jason's on the wide sea. Thine the second taking. Ivory breasted woman thou hast planted for long. Full blood moon and the cruel crop waking! Shadow-gold . . . moon-gold . . . one last song. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VARIATIONS: 17 by CONRAD AIKEN ELEGY FOR AN ENEMY by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET CONTRA MORTEM: THE BEING by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE IMPOSSIBLE INDISPENSIBILITY OF THE ARS POETICA by HAYDEN CARRUTH AFTER VERLAINE by ANSELM HOLLO ON CARPACCIO'S PICTURE: THE DREAM OF ST. URSALA; SONNET by AMY LOWELL |