I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.
Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it towards some overwhelming question,
To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”—
If one, settling a pillow by her head
Should say: “That is not what I meant at all;
That is not it, at all.”
I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.