Verse > Anthologies > Harriet Monroe, ed. > Poetry: A Magazine of Verse, 1912–22
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Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936).  Poetry: A Magazine of Verse.  1912–22.
 
Tea at the Palaz of Hoon
By Wallace Stevens
 
From “Sur Ma Guzzla Gracile”

NOT less because in purple I descended
The western day through what you called
The loneliest air, not less was I myself.
 
What was the ointment sprinkled on my beard?
What were the hymns that buzzed beside my ears?        5
What was the sea whose tide swept through me there?
 
Out of my mind the golden ointment rained,
And my ears made the blowing hymns they heard.
I was myself the compass of that sea:
 
I was the world in which I walked, and what I saw        10
Or heard or felt came not but from myself;
And there I found myself more truly and more strange.
 
 
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