“The villages slept as the capable man went down, Time swished on the village clocks and dreams were alive, The enormous gongs gave edges to their sounds, As the rider, no chevalere and poorly dressed, Impatient of the bells and midnight forms, Rode over the picket docks, rode down the road, And, capable, created in his mind, Eventual victor, out of the martyr's bones, The ultimate elegance: the imagined land.”
Quote by Wallace Stevens
Book:The Collected Poems
Work
The Collected Poems
This book encompasses a wide range of poetic works, showcasing the author's diverse styles and themes throughout their career. more
Author
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