"You ask me how a portent can possibly be wound in a shell. Without attempting to answer this for the moment, I ask you how Blake could possibly say that 'a sigh is a sword of an Angel King.' You ask me how compass, quadrant and sextant 'contrive' tides. I ask you how Eliot can possibly believe that 'Every street lamp that I pass beats like a fatalistic drum!'"
from Robert Pinsky: The Washington Post: Poet's Choice
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