With me poetry has not been a purpose, but a passion.

With me poetry has not been a purpose, but a passion.

The poet's expression of joy conceals his despair at not having found the reality of joy.

The poet's expression of joy conceals his despair at not having found the reality of joy.

Doeg, though without knowing how or why,
Made a still a blundering kind of melody;
Spurr'd boldly read more

Doeg, though without knowing how or why,
Made a still a blundering kind of melody;
Spurr'd boldly on, and dash'd through thick and thin,
Through sense and nonsense, never out nor in;
Free from all meaning whether good or bad,
And in one word, heroically mad.

For it is not metres, but a metre-making argument that makes a
poem.

For it is not metres, but a metre-making argument that makes a
poem.

And those who paint 'em truest praise 'em most.

And those who paint 'em truest praise 'em most.

He that seeks popularity in art closes the door on his own
genius: as he must needs paint for read more

He that seeks popularity in art closes the door on his own
genius: as he must needs paint for other minds, and not for his
own.

Poetry is thoughts that breathe, and words that burn.

Poetry is thoughts that breathe, and words that burn.

The poet is the priest of the invisible.

The poet is the priest of the invisible.

Poetry is the utterance of deep and heart-felt truth--the true poet is very near the oracle.

Poetry is the utterance of deep and heart-felt truth--the true poet is very near the oracle.