I have never yet known a poet who did not think himself
super-excellent.
[Lat., Adhue neminem cognovi poetam, read more

I have never yet known a poet who did not think himself
super-excellent.
[Lat., Adhue neminem cognovi poetam, qui sibi non optimus
videretur.]

Most joyful let the Poet be;
It is through him that all men see.

Most joyful let the Poet be;
It is through him that all men see.

He lives the poetry that he cannot write. The others write the poetry that they dare not realise.

He lives the poetry that he cannot write. The others write the poetry that they dare not realise.

They best can judge a poet's worth,
Who oft themselves have known
The pangs of a poetic read more

They best can judge a poet's worth,
Who oft themselves have known
The pangs of a poetic birth
By labours of their own.

And spare the poet for his subject's sake.

And spare the poet for his subject's sake.

"There's nothing great
Nor small," has said a poet of our day,
Whose voice will ring beyond read more

"There's nothing great
Nor small," has said a poet of our day,
Whose voice will ring beyond the curfew of eve
And not be thrown out by the matin's bell.

Sure there are poets which did never dream
Upon Parnassus, nor did taste the stream
Of Helicon; read more

Sure there are poets which did never dream
Upon Parnassus, nor did taste the stream
Of Helicon; we therefore may suppose
Those made not poets, but the poets those.

One fine day,
Says Mister Mucklewraith to me, says he.
"So! you're a poet in your house," read more

One fine day,
Says Mister Mucklewraith to me, says he.
"So! you're a poet in your house," and smiled.
"A Poet? God forbid," I cried; and then
It all came out: how Andrew slyly sent
Verse to the paper; how they printed it
In Poet's Corner.

Poets are sultans, if they had their will:
For every author would his brother kill.

Poets are sultans, if they had their will:
For every author would his brother kill.