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!
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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.
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.
A poet must leave traces of his passage, not proof.
A poet must leave traces of his passage, not proof.
What is a Sonnet? 'Tis the pearly shell
That murmurs of the far-off, murmuring sea;
A precious read more
What is a Sonnet? 'Tis the pearly shell
That murmurs of the far-off, murmuring sea;
A precious jewel carved most curiously;
It is a little picture painted well.
What is a Sonnet? 'Tis the tear that fell
From a great poet's hidden ecstasy;
A two-edged sword, a star, a song--ah me!
Sometimes a heavy tolling funeral bell.
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 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.
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.
With me poetry has not been a purpose, but a passion.
With me poetry has not been a purpose, but a passion.
Children and lunatics cut the Gordian knot which the poet spends his life patiently trying to untie.
Children and lunatics cut the Gordian knot which the poet spends his life patiently trying to untie.
