“The soul shrinks
From all that it is about to remember,
From the punctual rape of every blessed day”
Richard Wilbur
(1921–2017) American poet
Love Calls Us To The Things Of This World
Context: The soul shrinks
From all that it is about to remember,
From the punctual rape of every blessed day,
And cries,
"Oh, let there be nothing on earth but laundry,
Nothing but rosy hands in the rising steam
And clear dances done in the sight of heaven."
