I do not understand this child
Though we have lived together now
In the same house for years. I know

So, at the base of all we know
And think most ordered, there presides
Chance, the prime mover who provides

You will expect the light to come to hand 
        As birds to other men; you will demand 
(So gently that it seems a mere suggestion) 

Back to her own devices now she turns,
Watches the objects shadowed by their stillness;
The vase stands upright where the first light falls,

Difficult not to see significance
In any landscape we are charged to watch,
Impossible not to set all seasons there

This to be peace, they think beside the river
Being adapted well to expectation
And their wives’ mutiny at no achievement,