Poetry Quotes — page 15

Poetry, unlike oratory, should not aim at clarity...but be dense with meaning, 'something to be chewed and digested'.

For ne'er Was flattery lost on poet's ear: A simple race! they waste their toil For the vain tribute of a smile.

We haven't all had the good fortune to be ladies; we haven't all been generals, or poets, or statesmen; but when the toast works down to the babies, we stand on common ground.

The real doth not clip the poet's wings,— To win the secret of a weed’s plain heart Reveals some clue to spiritual things, And stumbling guess becomes firm-footed art.

A great poet belongs to no country; his works are public property, and his Memoirs the inheritance of the public.

The greatest poets never write poetry. The Homer|Homers and William Shakespeare|Shakespeares are not the greatest — they are only the greatest that we can know. And so with George Frideric Handel|Handel among musicians. For the highest …

The reason Milton wrote in fetters when he wrote of Angels and God, and at liberty when of Devils and Hell, is because he was a true poet and of the Devils' party without knowing it.

A poet can survive everything but a misprint.

A poem is one undivided unimpeded expression fallen ripe into literature, and it is undividedly and unimpededly received by those for whom it was matured.

A poet is the most unpoetical of anything in existence; because he has no identity — he is continually informing — and filling some other body.

A poem is good if it contains a new analogy and startles the reader out of the habit of treating words as counters.

I need scarcely observe that a poem deserves its title only inasmuch as it excites, by elevating the soul. The value of the poem is in the ratio of this elevating excitement. But all excitements are, through a psychal necessity, transient.

What is the light of a poet's name, If it is not his country that hallows his fame? Where may he look for guerdon so fair As the honour and praise that await him there? His name will be lost and his grave forgot, If the tears of his …

Poets have been mysteriously silent on the subject of cheese.

Hail, Bard triumphant! and some care bestow On us, the Poets Militant below!

What flocks of critics hover here to-day, As vultures wait on armies for their prey, All gaping for the carcase of a play! With croaking notes they bode some dire event, And follow dying poets by the scent.

Poetry itself being the music of thoughts and words, as music is the poetry of sounds.

For that fine madness still he did retain Which rightly should possess a poet’s brain.

Thus poetry, regarded as a vehicle of thought, is especially impressive partly because it obeys all the laws of effective speech, and partly because in so doing it imitates the natural utterances of excitement.

The mother is worn; the father tired. As for imagining Heaven, they have no time. Heaven-making must be left to the imagination of the poets. Without their help we can but trifle…We need the poets to imagine for us. The duty of …

Shine forth, thou star of poets, and with rage, Or influence, chide, or cheer the drooping stage, Which, since thy flight from hence, hath mourn'd like night, And despairs day, but for thy volumes light.

Vain was the chief's, the sage's pride! They had no poet, and they died. In vain they schem'd, in vain they bled! They had no poet, and are dead.

It is long since Mr. Carlyle expressed his opinion that if any poet or other literary creature could really be "killed off by one critique" or many, the sooner he was so despatched the better; a sentiment in which I for one humbly but …

Every great poem is in itself limited by necessity, — but in its suggestions unlimited and infinite.