On a half-reapèd furrow sound asleep, / Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook / Spares the next swath and all its twinèd flowers. |
Once upon a time, the American met the Automobile and fell in love. Unfortunately, this led him into matrimony, and so he did not live happily ever after. |
Out went the taper as she hurried in; / Its little smoke, in pallid moonshine, died. |
Parting they seemed to tread upon the air,/ Twin roses by the zephyr blown apart / Only to meet again more close. |
Pass into nothingness. |
Philosophy will clip an angel's wings. |
Pleasure is oft a visitant; but pain / Clings cruelly to us. |
Poetry should be great and unobtrusive, a thing which enters into one's soul, and does not startle it or amaze it with itself, but with its subject. |
Poetry should surprise by a fine excess and not by singularity -it should strike the reader as a wording of his own highest thoughts, and appear almost a remembrance. |
Poetry should... should strike the reader as a wording of his own highest thoughts, and appear almost a remembrance. |
Point me out the way / To any one particular beauteous star. |
Praise or blame has but a momentary effect on the man whose love of beauty in the abstract makes him a severe critic on his own works. |
Real are the dreams of Gods, and smoothly pass / Their pleasures in a long immortal dream. |
Scenery is fine - but human nature is finer. |
Scenery is fine - but human nature is finer. |