The sea was not a mask. No more was she.
The song and water were not medleyed sound
/ Even if what she sang was what she heard,
/ Since what she sang was uttered word by word.
/ It may be that in all her phrases stirred
/ The grinding water and the gasping wind;
/ But it was she and not the sea we heard.
/// From The Idea of Order at Key West, Wallace Stevens
