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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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.
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.
You will not find poetry anywhere unless you bring some of it with you.
You will not find poetry anywhere unless you bring some of it with you.
No poems can please for long or live that are written by water drinkers.
No poems can please for long or live that are written by water drinkers.
Poetry is what gets lost in translation.
Poetry is what gets lost in translation.
The true poem is the poet's mind.
The true poem is the poet's mind.
Poetry is a packsack of invisible keepsakes.
Poetry is a packsack of invisible keepsakes.
The poem is the point at which our strength gave out.
The poem is the point at which our strength gave out.
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.
