This to Delia

O mover of pillars whom the Greeks

Called their friend; O pounder of huge drums,

The rage in Africa; O maker of rivers noisy and wild—

Come to the languid Delia.

See that she sees skies as approachable;

Storms as friendly.

Let her see points as soft, soothing.

Tell her that boiling lakes are signs of universal care.

Make her see that the flesh-loving vulture is impelled by misunderstood desires—desires that are but a necessary expression of the vulture needs, vulture outlook.

Show her that music should embody hurricanes,

And hurricanes delicate glass;

That mountains can be clear;

And apples can be warlike and hurl back invaders from the south.

Show her that Norway is exquisite,

And Transvaal moves impendingly all at once to marches against certain northern enemies.

So will Delia get possessing, pleasingly maddening inward ways.

Do this to Delia, changer, and Delia will show a Delia new and all going, seized with Pleasing Speed.