Ovid's a rake, as half his verses show him,
Anacreon's morals are a still worse sample,
Catullus scarcely has a decent poem,
I don't think Sappho's Ode a good example,
Although Longinus tells us there is no hymn
Where the sublime soars forth on wings more ample;
But Virgil's songs are pure, except that horrid one
Being with "Formosum Pastor Corydon."
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There is a pleasure in poetic pains,
Which only poets know.
There is a pleasure in poetic pains,
Which only poets know.
A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds
A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds
Ages elapsed ere Homer's lamp appeared,
And ages ere the Mantuan Swan was heard;
To carry nature read more
Ages elapsed ere Homer's lamp appeared,
And ages ere the Mantuan Swan was heard;
To carry nature lengths unknown before,
To give a Milton birth, asked ages more.
And spare the poet for his subject's sake.
And spare the poet for his subject's sake.
Poets alone are sure of immortality; they are the truest diviners
of nature.
Poets alone are sure of immortality; they are the truest diviners
of nature.
"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.
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.
Poets by Death are conquer'd but the wit
Of poets triumphs over it.
Poets by Death are conquer'd but the wit
Of poets triumphs over it.
Poets are all who love,--who feel great truths,
And tell them.
Poets are all who love,--who feel great truths,
And tell them.
