“Perché” by Frances Gregg


I am the possessor and the possessed

I am of the unborn.

My kind have not yet come up on the earth.

Or—are they gone?

Am I then left, a memory of the dead?

Am I dream-wraith, a ghost of beauty fled?

I who possess and am possessed,

Am I born and dead?


Strange madness beset me.

Passing pageant-wise across my web of thought.

The red circlet of Narcissus gems my blood,—

And I brood on a golden reed.

Who doth possess me—I possess.

Yea, I am dead!


In the pale light from the grave

The Sisters weave:

Crimson—and green and golden thread

Upon Time's robe.


Frances Gregg's poem "Perché" was published in the 1916 Others anthology. To read this poem in a digitized version of this publication, follow the link(s) below: