PREVIOUS NEXT FIRST "Dissolving in a grey Agony of tinctured white," clouds...
Monet's Path in The ile Saint-Martin, Vetheuil
"Dissolving in a grey Agony of tinctured white," clouds
hush Man's dull impatiences & yet incite
Idea's most active symmetry.

Giants! of Omnipotence (but aerial brumes
which must yet finally condense to Sense

in this mortal World, O) lambs in innocence

unphysical, impalpable & illusive even to the Breeze
which pushes them Gloriously (Musical as they acclaim
the harmony of Nature's majestic throats)

while a thousand Figures evolve / dissolve
miens threaten! or make crystal The Spinning Rote of
Time's unsolvable Moment--Onwards! they climb

Downwards! descend those (motionless) old monsters--
downed, victors, moving & unmoved
(Thoughts & Emotions) but Imaginations

half suspended--On what Mind?...