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Wallace Stevens

LeebeckayeLeebeckaye Posts: 3
edited November 2003 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
Final Soliloquy of the Interior Paramour


Light the first light of the evening, as in a room
In which we rest and, for small reason, think
The world imagined is the ultimate good.

This is, therefore, the intensest rendezvous.
It is in that thought that we collect ourselves,
Out of all the indifferences, into one thing:

Within a single thing, a single shawl
Wrapped tightly round us, since we are poor, a
warmth,
A light, a power, the miraculous influence.

Here, now, we forget each other and ourselves.
We feel the obscurity of an order, a whole,
A knowledge, that which arranged the rendezvous.

Within its vital boundary, in the mind.
We say God and the imagination are one . . .
How high that highest candle lights the dark.

Out of this same light, out of the central mind,
We make a dwelling in the evening air,
In which being there together is enough.

—Wallace Stevens
Missionaries, my dear! Don't you realize that missionaries are the divinely provided food for destitute and underfed cannibals? Whenever they are on the brink of starvation, Heaven in its infinite mercy sends them a nice plump missionary. —Oscar Wilde

We are all atheists about most of the gods that humanity has ever believed in. Some of us just go one god further.
Richard Dawkins

Post edited by Unknown User on

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    keven 33keven 33 Posts: 259
    thats why church should be held outside

    i worship the animals and the rain

    and of course jesus as well as


    if you dont belive in jesus i love you

    which in turn causes a few to feel the need

    to punch me

    love the invisible spirit


    your poem A


    its perfect



    make sure you prepare for you final
    convicted
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    BhagavadGitaBhagavadGita Posts: 1,748
    i see you both have sir - rendered yourselves to art and to the war we are fighting.

    i am so glad to have more galant knights with us.

    we surrender the warmth of this union keeps us all safe. i enjoyed this blanket of poetry shared in the woods with my comrades.

    we fight no more, scared together maybe, but just being born together in this storm

    it is because..
    jeremy, there are so many reasons why i love you.....

    WE are now 7.
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    final wateva of the perwikial cleva

    this poem is awesome but the title is that english

    for cryin out loud do i need a frickin dictionary to read you poems



    my goodness folks i only graduated from harvard with a 3.0


    whats good for the goose is good for ol yeller
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