479 My eye was traitor to my affection, And with sly inversion turned my object's spy. . My subdivisions, winter-tree'd ravens, Were figments. As hers. . Unmuffle the bell; And ribboned tree, and open eye.
474 A blank screen electric, Bitter, snow-crust field Night-set, wind-flat frame Of a thing sustained Without a cold-eyed trace. . Still--below--a stratum shift In now light or next dark: A new-boundaried state.
469 This article is undone to expose The line of your neck, and time's; Slender and grave both And each. The strain of an hour's reverse and addition Is diminished by the fine-haired arc; Yet, pause: an emblem may suffice.
440 In approximation, The moment rounded with a scud Of low concern and cloud-- The misfiled, the blotted Sun running in monochrome seams, A striated score to this arc of day. . A plainsong of air, of nothing In silence, and surprise.