Smoothed out the crumpled edges, and began.
And as I wrote—oh, marvel unforeseen!—
A hand invisible, divine, joined on
Another scrap, and smoothed the seam, and made
It ready for my pen.
"And thus, as days
Go on, the page still grows. 'Tis not the one
I fain would have; 'tis seamed and tempest-stained
And blurred with many tears. 'Tis not the one
I planned; but as I look at it I know