The
House Was Quiet and the World Was Calm
The house was quiet
and the world was calm.
The reader became
the book; and summer night
Was like the
conscious being of the book.
The house was quiet
and the world was calm.
The words were
spoken as if there was no book,
Except that the
reader leaned above the page,
Wanted to lean,
wanted much most to be
The scholar to whom
his book is true, to whom
The summer night is
like a perfection of thought.
The house was quiet
because it had to be.
The quiet was part
of the meaning, part of the mind:
The access of
perfection to the page.
And the world was
calm. The truth in a calm world,
In which there is
no other meaning, itself
Is calm, itself is
summer and night, itself
Is the reader leaning late and reading there.
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