|
|
| |
"And the beauty
Of the moonlight
Falling there,
Falling
As sleep falls
In the innocent air."
Wallace Stevens (1879-1955), U.S. poet. "Anecdote of the Prince of Peacocks." |
"And deck the bananas in leaves
Plucked from the Carib trees,
Fibrous and dangling down,
Oozing cantankerous gum
Out of their purple maws...."
Wallace Stevens (1879-1955), U.S. poet. "Floral Decorations for Bananas." |
"At the earliest ending of winter,
In March, a scrawny cry from outside
Seemed like a sound in his mind.
He knew that he heard it,
A bird's cry, at daylight or before,
In the early March wind."
Wallace Stevens (1879-1955), U.S. poet. "Not Ideas about the Thing but the Thing Itself." |
"Green is the night and out of madness woven,
The self-same madness of the astronomers
And of him that sees, beyond the astronomers,
The topaz rabbit and the emerald cat...."
Wallace Stevens (1879-1955), U.S. poet. "The Candle a Saint." |
"The thinker as reader reads what has been written.
He wears the words he reads to look upon
Within his being...."
Wallace Stevens (1879-1955), U.S. poet. "Things of August." |
"Yet I am the necessary angel of earth,
Since, in my sight, you see the earth again,
Cleared of its stiff and stubborn, man-locked set,
And, in my hearing, you hear its tragic drone
Rise liquidly in liquid lingerings...."
Wallace Stevens (1879-1955), U.S. poet. "Angel Surrounded by Paysans." |
"It was at the time, the place, of nougats.
There the dogwoods, the white ones and the pink ones,
Bloomed in sheets, as they bloom, and the girl,
A pink girl took a white dog walking."
Wallace Stevens (1879-1955), U.S. poet. "Forces, the Will & the Weather." |
"Shine alone, shine nakedly, shine like bronze,
that reflects neither my face nor any inner part
of my being, shine like fire, that mirrors nothing."
Wallace Stevens (1879-1955), U.S. poet. "Nuances of a Theme by Williams." |
"And as he came he saw that it was spring,
A time abhorrent to the nihilist
Or searcher for the fecund minimum."
Wallace Stevens (1879-1955), U.S. poet. "The Comedian as the Letter C.." |
"It was evening all afternoon.
It was snowing
And it was going to snow.
The blackbird sat
In the cedar limbs."
Wallace Stevens (1879-1955), U.S. poet. Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird (l. 50-54). . .
Collected Poems [Stevie Smith]. James MacGibbon, ed. (1976) New Directions. |
| |
|
|
|
|
Wallace Stevens
Free
Poetry E-Book: