By the Stream These fragments I have shored against my ruins— Why then Ile fit you. Here are the fragments, The degrees, the perils and the losses— The losses and the gains— Fragile as the dew in the morning,
I toss the light about me. Let it lose itself against the world. The arm that bears me now— The gold on your breast, The eye that sees too clearly,
A song that stands alone,
And the song of the stream.

• Ezra Pound