(To Confront a Portrait)
Out from behind this bending rough-cut mask, These lights and shades, this drama of the whole, This common curtain of the face containād in me for me, in you for you, in each for each, (Tragedies, sorrows, laughter, tearsā āO heaven! The passionate teeming plays this curtain hid!) This glaze of Godās serenest purest sky, This film of Satanās seething pit, This heartās geographyās map, this limitless small continent, this soundless sea; Out from the convolutions of this globe, This subtler astronomic orb than sun or moon, than Jupiter, Venus, Mars, This condensation of the universe, (nay here the only universe, Here the idea, all in this mystic handful wrapt;) These burinād eyes, flashing to you to pass to future time, To launch and spin through space revolving sideling, from these to emanate, To you whoeāer you areā āa look.