Some may have blamed us that we cease to speak
Of things we spoke of in our verses early,
Saying: a lovely voice is such as such;
Saying: that lady’s eyes were sad last week,
Wherein the world’s whole joy is born and dies;
Saying: she hath this way or that, this much
Of grace, this way or that, this much
Of grace, this little misericorde;
Ask us no further word;
If we were proud, then proud to be so wise
Ask us no more of all the things ye heard;
We may not speak of them, they touch us nearly.
The Fault of It
Analysis, meaning and summary of Ezra Pound's poem The Fault of It
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This is highly atypical of Pounds work, especially since he said “go in fear of abstractions” One could do better to read “In a Station at the Metro”