Like a page of music, like an upper air,
Like a momentary color, in which swans
Were seraphs, were saints, were changing essences.
The west wind was the music, the motion, the force
To which the swans curveted, a will to change,
A will to make iris frettings on the blank.

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Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: Wallace Stevens (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.