When the brain gets as dry as an empty nut,
When the reason stands on its squarest toes,
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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!

For florid prose, nor honied lies of rhyme,
Can blazon evil deeds, or consecrate a crime.

For florid prose, nor honied lies of rhyme,
Can blazon evil deeds, or consecrate a crime.

Poetry is a packsack of invisible keepsakes.

Poetry is a packsack of invisible keepsakes.

Poetry is the work of poets, not of peoples or communities; artistic creation can never be anything but the production read more

Poetry is the work of poets, not of peoples or communities; artistic creation can never be anything but the production of an individual mind.

Writing a poem is discovering

Writing a poem is discovering

Lely on animated canvas stole
The sleepy eye, that spoke the melting soul.

Lely on animated canvas stole
The sleepy eye, that spoke the melting soul.

A flattering painter, who made it his care
To draw men as they ought to be, not as they read more

A flattering painter, who made it his care
To draw men as they ought to be, not as they are.

Well, something must be done for May,
The time is drawing nigh--
To figure in the Catalogue,
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Well, something must be done for May,
The time is drawing nigh--
To figure in the Catalogue,
And woo the public eye.
Something I must invent and paint;
But oh my wit is not
Like one of those kind substantives
That answer Who and What?

Oh love will make a dog howl in rhyme.

Oh love will make a dog howl in rhyme.