1089

Fold back the years, book them down

To recollection's inconsequence,

A smallness in hand,

With brevity's false axioms leaved--

While we make time's still front

And with discandied sentiment

Elsewhither from this precipice gaze.

1088

1087

1086

1085

1084

1083

1082

The whorled race of silver

With motion paused,

And without, cool potence

Of apex, curve, topped, bent--

Mirror latent in tree shade

Of its courses winding.

1081

1080

Slipped on the balance once

To find unheld its iron weight,

And iron-borne a public rate.

Assumed aslant another scale

Whose needle was more fine,

As easily mismeasuring

A personal estate.

1079

1078

1077

1076

1075

The epiphany of the desktop

Unsought yet beheld

In the co-opted sun of thought

Is the needful clutter of purpose

To foreordained end:

No blank to stay by small devices,

Or calenders fondly marked

For spanless continuance.

1074

1073

1072

1071

1070

1069

1068

1067
Let me not in others
My own opinion fix--
As a moon by reflection gauged--
But of grooves and peaks qualitied,
And shadows to itself vouchsafed.