High Falcon & Other Poems/To Unconscionable Sound

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TO UNCONSCIONABLE SOUND
Go, fill the bell of the windWith the sweet unconscionable sound;Do not breathe on the mind:It is an indifferent shell,Long whittled underwave,And had no timbre's formWhen the glittering wave withdrewBut what its waters gave.Go twist the wind to a bell,Or let it whip and turnTo any change you willThe visionary cloud;They are innocent essence still.But not the brooding heart,A cloud that wraps aboutThe tempest it outwept,And elemented then,When the cold fancy roseWhich shakes off a heart like a dreamIn the hollow where it slept.
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