We reason of these things with later reason And we make of what we see, what we see clearly And have seen, a place dependent on ourselves. - Wallace Stevens

"Gubbinal"

That strange flower, the sun,
Is just what you say.
Have it your way.

The world is ugly,
And the people are sad.

That tuft of jungle feathers,
That animal eye,
Is just what you say.

That savage of fire,
That seed,
Have it your way.

The world is ugly,
And the people are sad.

For the poet, the imagination is paramount, and . . . he dwells apart in his imagination, as the philosopher dwells in his reason, and as the priest dwells in his belief … The imagination is the power of the mind over the possibilities of things."

He tries by a peculiar speech to speak<p> The peculiar potency of the general