That, freed from beat and measure, wanders. Forgetfulness is like a bird whose wings are reconciled, Outspread and motionless, —unwearyingly. Forgetfulness is rain at night, Or an old house in a forest, —or a child. Forgetfulness is white, —white as a blasted tree, And it may stun the sybil into prophecy, Or bury the Gods. I can remember much forgetfulness.