The Uses of Poetry

William Carlos Williams, 1883 – 1963

I’ve fond anticipation of a day

O’erfilled with pure diversion presently,

For I must read a lady poesy

The while we glide by many a leafy bay,

Hid deep in rushes, where at random play

The glossy black winged May-flies, or whence flee

Hush-throated nestlings in alarm,

Whom we have idly frighted with our boat’s long sway.

For, lest o’ersaddened by such woes as spring

To rural peace from our meek onward trend,

What else more fit? We’ll draw the latch-string

And close the door of sense; then satiate wend,

On poesy’s transforming giant wing,

To worlds afar whose fruits all anguish mend.