And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.
In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo
And indeed there will be time
To wonder, �Do I dare?� and, �Do I dare?�
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair�
(They will say: �How his hair is growing thin!�)
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin�
(They will say: �But how his arms and legs are thin!�)
Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute all reverse.
For I have known them all already, known them all�
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room
So how should I presume?
And I have known the eyes already, known them all�
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?
And how should I presume?
And I have known the arms already, known them all�
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
