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'Twas he that ranged the words at random flung,
Pierced the fair pearls and them together strung.
'Twas he that ranged the words at random flung,
Pierced the fair pearls and them together strung.
Poetry is the art of uniting pleasure with truth.
Poetry is the art of uniting pleasure with truth.
For me, poetry is an evasion of the real job of writing prose.
For me, poetry is an evasion of the real job of writing prose.
A poet dares be just so clear and no clearer... He unzips the veil from beauty, but does not remove read more
A poet dares be just so clear and no clearer... He unzips the veil from beauty, but does not remove it. A poet utterly clear is a trifle glaring.
Poetry is the music of the soul, and, above all, of great and feeling souls.
Poetry is the music of the soul, and, above all, of great and feeling souls.
Poetry is a mirror which makes beautiful that which is distorted.
Poetry is a mirror which makes beautiful that which is distorted.
The poet is in the end probably more afraid of the dogmatist who wants to extract the message from the read more
The poet is in the end probably more afraid of the dogmatist who wants to extract the message from the poem and throw the poem away than he is of the sentimentalist who says, "Oh, just let me enjoy the poem.".
Poetry is the art of creating imaginary gardens with real toads.
Poetry is the art of creating imaginary gardens with real toads.
A poem conveys not a message so much as the provenance of a message, an advent of sense.
A poem conveys not a message so much as the provenance of a message, an advent of sense.