V
I do not know which to prefer,The beauty of inflections
Or the beauty of innuendoes,
The blackbird whistling
Or just after.
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.
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?
VIII
I know noble accentsAnd lucid, inescapable rhythms;
But I know, too,
That the blackbird is involved
In what I know.
X
At the sight of blackbirdsFlying in a green light,
Even the bawds of euphony
Would cry out sharply.
XI
He rode over ConnecticutIn a glass coach.
Once, a fear pierced him,
In that he mistook
The shadow of his equipage
For blackbirds.
XIII
It was evening all afternoon.It was snowing
And it was going to snow.
The blackbird sat
In the cedar-limbs.