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Oh love will make a dog howl in rhyme.
Oh love will make a dog howl in rhyme.
Poetry is an orphan of silence. The words never quite equal the experience behind them.
Poetry is an orphan of silence. The words never quite equal the experience behind them.
Doeg, though without knowing how or why,
Made a still a blundering kind of melody;
Spurr'd boldly read more
Doeg, though without knowing how or why,
Made a still a blundering kind of melody;
Spurr'd boldly on, and dash'd through thick and thin,
Through sense and nonsense, never out nor in;
Free from all meaning whether good or bad,
And in one word, heroically mad.
Poetry is the synthesis of hyacinths and biscuits.
Poetry is the synthesis of hyacinths and biscuits.
Poetry, therefore, we will call Musical Thought.
Poetry, therefore, we will call Musical Thought.
The poet is the priest of the invisible.
The poet is the priest of the invisible.
Feel you the barren flattery of a rhyme?
Can poets soothe you, when you pine for bread,
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Feel you the barren flattery of a rhyme?
Can poets soothe you, when you pine for bread,
By winding myrtle round your ruin'd shed?
It is in self-limitation that a master first shows himself.
It is in self-limitation that a master first shows himself.
Poetry teaches us music, metaphor, condensation
and specificity.
Poetry teaches us music, metaphor, condensation
and specificity.
