I love this one by Hardy, an atomism in reverse, which Aaron Poochigian showed me:
Proud Songster
The thrushes sing as the sun is going,
And the finches whistle in ones and pairs,
And as it gets dark loud nightingales
INDENTINDENTIn bushes
Pipe, as they can when April wears,
INDENTAs if all Time were theirs.
These are brand new birds of twelvemonths' growing,
Which a year ago, or less than twain,
No finches were, nor nightingales,
INDENTINDENTNor thrushes,
But only particles of grain,
INDENTAnd earth, and air, and rain.
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