When the brain gets as dry as an empty nut,
When the reason stands on its squarest toes,
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When the brain gets as dry as an empty nut,
When the reason stands on its squarest toes,
When the mind (like a beard) has a "formal cut,"--
There is a place and enough for the pains of prose;
But whenever the May-blood stires and glows,
And the young year draws to the "golden prime,"
And Sir Romeo sticks in his ear a rose,--
Then hey! for the ripple of laughing rhyme!

Poetry is itself a thing of God;
He made his prophets poets;and the more
We feel of read more

Poetry is itself a thing of God;
He made his prophets poets;and the more
We feel of poesie do we become
Like God in love and power,--under-makers.

Poetry is the rhythmical creation of beauty in words.

Poetry is the rhythmical creation of beauty in words.

Poetry is a way of taking life by the throat.

Poetry is a way of taking life by the throat.

Poetry is ordinary language raised to the Nth power. Poetry is boned with ideas, nerved and blooded with emotions, all read more

Poetry is ordinary language raised to the Nth power. Poetry is boned with ideas, nerved and blooded with emotions, all held together by the delicate, tough skin of words.

The great function of poetry is to give back to us the situations of our dreams.

The great function of poetry is to give back to us the situations of our dreams.

A poet must leave traces of his passage, not proof.

A poet must leave traces of his passage, not proof.

Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal.

Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal.

Feel you the barren flattery of a rhyme?
Can poets soothe you, when you pine for bread,
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Feel you the barren flattery of a rhyme?
Can poets soothe you, when you pine for bread,
By winding myrtle round your ruin'd shed?