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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=534895" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Not Ideas About the Thing But the Thing Itself</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=534895" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">At the earliest ending of winter,<br>In March, a scrawny cry from outside<br>Seemed like a sound in his mind. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=534895" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">He knew that he heard it,<br>A bird's cry, at daylight or before,<br>In the early March wind. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=534895" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The sun was rising at six, <br>No longer a battered panache above snow... <br>It would have been outside. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=534895" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">It was not from the vast ventriloquism <br>Of sleep's faded papier-mache... <br>The sun was coming from the outside. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=534895" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">That scrawny cry--It was<br>A chorister whose c preceded the choir.<br>It was part of the colossal sun, </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=534895" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Surrounded by its choral rings,<br>Still far away. It was like<br>A new knowledge of reality.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Wallace+Stevens">Wallace Stevens</a></strong></div>