Thomas Beauchamp-Arnold


This is the Book of the Earth, the field of grass flourishing.
This is the region that feeds forth souls under the old orders
returning to the dominion of its King and Queen.
It is only the midden heap, beauty: shards,
scraps of leftover food, rottings,
the Dump
where we read history, larvae of all dead things,
mixd seeds, waste, off-castings, despised
treasure, vegetable putrifactions
: from this adultery committed,

the plant that provides, Corn
that at Eleusis Kore brought
out of Hell, health manifest. Heracles said:
I have seen Kore.
What face more terrible? I am initiate,
prepared for Hades.
Queen of the Middenheap I have seen.
Death is prerequisite to the growth of grass.

This is the Book of the Provider.

-from "For the Lover,"
The Opening of the Field,

by Robert Duncan


Under Your Milky-Way
And slow revolving Bear
Frogs from the Alder-Thicket pray
In terror of the Judgment Day
Loud with repentance there.

The log they crowned as King
Grew sodden, lurched, and sank.
Dark waters bubble from the spring.
An owl floats by on silent wing.
They invoke You from each bank.

At dawn, You shall appear,
A gaunt, red-wattled crane.
She whom they know too well for fear,
Lunging Your beak down like a spear
To fetch them home again.

-Robert Graves


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