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In the hexameter rises the fountain's silvery column:
In the pentameter aye falling in melody back.
In the hexameter rises the fountain's silvery column:
In the pentameter aye falling in melody back.
Poetry is the rhythmical creation of beauty in words.
Poetry is the rhythmical creation of beauty in words.
For me, poetry is an impish attempt to paint the colour of the wind.
For me, poetry is an impish attempt to paint the colour of the wind.
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 .
The job of the poet is to render the world--to see it and report it without loss, without perversion. No read more
The job of the poet is to render the world--to see it and report it without loss, without perversion. No poet ever talks about feelings. Only sentimental people do.
When the brain gets as dry as an empty nut,
When the reason stands on its squarest toes,
read more
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!
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.
It is the job of poetry to clean up our word-clogged reality by creating silences around things.
It is the job of poetry to clean up our word-clogged reality by creating silences around things.
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.