“I know noble accentsAnd lucid, inescapable rhythms;But I know, too,That the blackbird is involvedIn what I know.”

“Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird"IAmong twenty snowy mountains, The only moving thing Was the eye of the blackbird. III was of three minds, Like a tree In which there are three blackbirds. IIIThe blackbird whirled in the autumn winds. It was a small part of the pantomime. IVA man and a woman Are one. A man and a woman and a blackbird Are one. VI do not know which to prefer, The beauty of inflections Or the beauty of innuendoes, The blackbird whistling Or just after. VIIcicles filled the long window With barbaric glass. The shadow of the blackbird Crossed it, to and fro. The mood Traced in the shadow An indecipherable cause. VIIO 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? VIIII know noble accents And lucid, inescapable rhythms; But I know, too, That the blackbird is involved In what I know. IXWhen the blackbird flew out of sight, It marked the edge Of one of many circles. XAt the sight of blackbirds Flying in a green light, Even the bawds of euphony Would cry out sharply. XIHe rode over Connecticut In a glass coach. Once, a fear pierced him, In that he mistook The shadow of his equipage For blackbirds. XIIThe river is moving. The blackbird must be flying. XIIIIt was evening all afternoon. It was snowing And it was going to snow. The blackbird sat In the cedar-limbs.”

“I do not know which to prefer,The beauty of inflectionsOr the beauty of innuendosThe blackbird whistlingOr just after.”

“I know what you are, but I also know who you are too. And the ‘who’ is the part that defines us.”

“I don't know yet what I am capable of doing, but, by God, I have genius -- I know it too well to blush behind it. ”

“Am I too fast, too facile? I do not know. I do not know myselfsometimes, or how to measure and name and count out thegrains that make me what I am.”