The girls with eyes of wicks of lights,

Thin as the rushes, and as many,

Make in their minds uncertain shapes of music,

And slyly string their phony harps with twine.

The girls with eyes of drops of water,

Thin as the fires, and as frightened,

Bring pennies and their empty zodiacs.

Horses, loose on a plain, drum

The secret dance their thought does now!

Come up and light your harmless questions.

Burn them to the Brazen Face,

And wait, in terror, for the Brazen Voice.

“You girls with eyes of wicks of lights,

Shake me: I ring like a bank.

I shout like the assembly: ‘Go, be presidents!’

You shall all marry rectangles!”

“But you with eyes of drops of water,

Punch my brass eyes with your little fists;

I am a box, my voice is only electric.

So keep your pennies for the poor;

Sew, in your houses, and cry.”

But already, down the far, fast ladders of light

The stern, astounding angel

Starts with a truer message,

Carrying a lily.