I
Just as my fingers on these keys
Make music, so the self-same sounds
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As far as I am concerned, this is the end all of poems. Upon which most of all poetry should be compared to. Just about the 'poesia perfetto'. Oh, to strive to be a Stevens, , , , aaa
he must have written this on his waning years
" Peter Quince at the Clavier" is an early poem of Stevens, just as " Prufrock is an early poem of Eliot's. Do not discount imagination of genius.