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Portrait dUne Femme

Written by: Ezra Pound | Biography
 | Quotes (44) |
 Your mind and you are our Sargasso Sea,
London has swept about you this score years
And bright ships left you this or that in fee:
Ideas, old gossip, oddments of all things,
Strange spars of knowledge and dimmed wares of price.
Great minds have sought you- lacking someone else.
You have been second always.
Tragical? No.
You preferred it to the usual thing: One dull man, dulling and uxorious, One average mind- with one thought less, each year.
Oh, you are patient, I have seen you sit Hours, where something might have floated up.
And now you pay one.
Yes, you richly pay.
You are a person of some interest, one comes to you And takes strange gain away: Trophies fished up; some curious suggestion; Fact that leads nowhere; and a tale for two, Pregnant with mandrakes, or with something else That might prove useful and yet never proves, That never fits a corner or shows use, Or finds its hour upon the loom of days: The tarnished, gaudy, wonderful old work; Idols and ambergris and rare inlays, These are your riches, your great store; and yet For all this sea-hoard of deciduous things, Strange woods half sodden, and new brighter stuff: In the slow float of differing light and deep, No! there is nothing! In the whole and all, Nothing that's quite your own.
Yet this is you.

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