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.

Some force whole regions, in despite
O' geography, to change their site;
Make former times shake hands read more

Some force whole regions, in despite
O' geography, to change their site;
Make former times shake hands with latter,
And that which was before come after;
But those that write in rhyme still make
The one verse for the other's sake;
For one for sense, and one for rhyme,
I think's sufficient at one time.

A poet is a man who manages, in a lifetime of standing out in thunderstorms, to be struck by lightning read more

A poet is a man who manages, in a lifetime of standing out in thunderstorms, to be struck by lightning five or six times.

Poetry teaches us music, metaphor, condensation
and specificity.

Poetry teaches us music, metaphor, condensation
and specificity.

Duncan Gray cam here to woo,
Ha, ha, the wooing o't!
On blithe Yuletide when we were read more

Duncan Gray cam here to woo,
Ha, ha, the wooing o't!
On blithe Yuletide when we were fou,
Ha, ha, the wooing o't!
Maggie coost her head fu' high,
Looked asklent and unco skeigh,
Gart poor Duncan stand abeigh:
Ha, ha! the wooing o't!

When you write in prose you say what you mean. When you write in rhyme you say what you must.

When you write in prose you say what you mean. When you write in rhyme you say what you must.

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.

However, if a poem can be reduced to a prose sentence, there can't be much to it.

However, if a poem can be reduced to a prose sentence, there can't be much to it.

Poetry is a packsack of invisible keepsakes.

Poetry is a packsack of invisible keepsakes.