Nothing in particular save
That his image would not fade with
Oncoming of awakening-
Though silvering behind the world's
Glass had faded in a time of
Brightening light: that glass became
Transparent and long since has lost
Its ability to reflect.
In our time we have come
to
see
Through the glass , to want to enter
The bright ball whose bottom is deep
In its center-So that even
To have carried back the viewer
Intact from the lovely chamber
Of your sleep like some insistent
Rare seashell , is to be left quite
Stranded on this shore of meanings
Where the uses of things harden
Underfoot even as we walk
Slowly up the refusing dunes .
It
would reduce your yellow room
To its own neat scale; it could not
Take a picture but at best could
Borrow one . The viewer
you
need
Would have
to
show what
you
cannot
See withour it, the transparent
Fiction purely dwelling among
All the furnishings of space . So
That one only need report what
The viewer showed ; one 's disclosures
Would have the glassiness of clear
Inventory; they would need no
Busy surfaces, worked up with
Splendid energies ; they would need
No urgent frame. They would live in
Reviewing their originals .
Thus if your dreams one week were all
Of water, lost in the sieve of
..
