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.

There is a pleasure in poetic pains,
Which only poets know.

There is a pleasure in poetic pains,
Which only poets know.

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.

Who all in raptures their own works rehearse,
And drawl out measur'd prose, which they call verse.

Who all in raptures their own works rehearse,
And drawl out measur'd prose, which they call verse.

O brave poets, keep back nothing;
Nor mix falsehood with the whole!
Look up Godward! speak the read more

O brave poets, keep back nothing;
Nor mix falsehood with the whole!
Look up Godward! speak the truth in
Worthy song from earnest soul!
Hold, in high poetic duty,
Truest Truth the fairest Beauty.

And poets by their sufferings grow,--
As if there were no more to do,
To make a read more

And poets by their sufferings grow,--
As if there were no more to do,
To make a poet excellent,
But only want and discontent.

Ah, poet-dreamer, within those walls
What triumphs shall be yours!
For all are happy and rich and read more

Ah, poet-dreamer, within those walls
What triumphs shall be yours!
For all are happy and rich and great
In that City of By-and-by.

A Poet without Love were a physical and metaphysical
impossibility.

A Poet without Love were a physical and metaphysical
impossibility.

Greece, sound, thy Homer's, Rome thy Virgil's name,
But England's Milton equals both in fame.

Greece, sound, thy Homer's, Rome thy Virgil's name,
But England's Milton equals both in fame.