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To those who are not of this world
it would seem
poetry is denied: not for them
absorption into the appearance
of things, the sharp sensual image,
the giving dimensionality
to things that pass, and thence to be
perpetual reminders posted
in the museum habit of humanity,
which comes to believe in the past
as the basis of its future: not for them,
but the reference only
to the abiding centre, life
indwelling that made the world,
and that the world described
reflect its death is that life. |
