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It comes about that the drifting of these curtains
is full of long motions; as the ponderous
Deflations of distance; or as clouds
Inseparable from their afternoons;
Or the changing of light, the dropping
Of the silence, wide sleep and solitude
Of night, in which all motion
Is beyond us, as the firmament,
Up-rising and down-falling, bares
The last largess, bold to see.

– Wallace Stevens, The Curtains in the House of the Metaphysician, 1919

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