All of Victorian verse is pentameter.
I look in the mirror. There's me. What's in the mirror is not real. So am I unreal?
The mirror is believed the way a poem is believed. It's believed because it's there.
Visual surprise is natural in the Caribbean; it comes with the landscape, and faced with its beauty, the sigh of History dissolves.
In Eden who sleeps happiest? The serpent.
The English language is nobody's special property.