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The Fable

By Yvor Winters
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Beyond the steady rock the steady sea,
In movement more immovable than station,
Gathers and washes and is gone. It comes,
A slow obscure metonymy of motion,
Crumbling the inner barriers of the brain.
But the crossed rock braces the hills and makes
A steady quiet of the steady music,
Massive with peace.
And listen, now:
The foam receding down the sand silvers
Between the grains, thin, pure as virgin words,
Lending a sheen to Nothing, whispering.
A Note from the Editor

Yvor Winters died 55 years ago today.

Yvor Winters, “The Fable” from The Collected Poems of Yvor Winters. Used by permission of Ohio University Press, Athens, Ohio.
Source: The Collected Poems of Yvor Winters ( 1960 )
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