V
I do not know which to prefer,The beauty of inflections
Or the beauty of innuendoes,
The blackbird whistling
Or just after.
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VI
Icicles filled the long windowWith barbaric glass.
The shadow of the blackbird
Crossed it, to and fro.
The mood
Traced in the shadow
An indecipherable cause.
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VII
O thin men of Haddam,Why do you imagine golden birds?
Do you not see how the blackbird
Walks around the feet
Of the women about you?
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VIII
I know noble accentsAnd lucid, inescapable rhythms;
But I know, too,
That the blackbird is involved
In what I know.
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X
At the sight of blackbirdsFlying in a green light,
Even the bawds of euphony
Would cry out sharply.
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XI
He rode over ConnecticutIn a glass coach.
Once, a fear pierced him,
In that he mistook
The shadow of his equipage
For blackbirds.
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XIII
It was evening all afternoon.It was snowing
And it was going to snow.
The blackbird sat
In the cedar-limbs.