“A lonely impulse of delight”
“A thought Of that late death took all my heart for speech.”
“Does the imagination dwell the most Upon a woman won or a woman lost?”
“What were all the world's alarms To mighty Paris when he found Sleep upon a golden bed That first dawn in Helen's arms?”
“It's certain there is no fine thing Since Adam's fall but needs much laboring.”
“From our birthday, until we die, Is but the winking of an eye.”
“When Walt Whitman writes in seeming defiance of tradition, he needs tradition for his protection, for the butcher and the baker and the candlestick-maker grow merry over him when they meet his work by chance.”
“Because of something told under the famished hornOf the hunter's moon, that hung between the night and the day,To dream of women whose beauty was folded in dismay,Even in an old story, is a burden not to be borne.”
“On limestone quarried near the spot By his command these words are cut: Cast a cold eye On life, on death. Horseman, pass by!”
“The only business of the head in the world is to bow a ceaseless obeisance to the heart.”
“What made us dream that he could comb gray hair?”
“My temptation is quiet. Here at life's end Neither loose imagination Nor the mill of the mind Consuming its rag and bone, Can make the truth known.”
“But bear in mind your lover's wageIs what your looking-glass can show,And that he will turn green with rageAt all that is not pictured there.”
“The hare grows old as she plays in the sunAnd gazes around her with eyes of brightness;Before the swift things that she dreamed of were doneShe limps along in an aged whiteness.”
“What shall I do with this absurdity- O heart, O troubled heart-this caricature, Decrepit age that has been tied to me As to a dog's tail? Never had I more Excited, passionate, fantastical Imagination, nor an ear and eye That more expected the impossible.”
“Come let us mock at the great That had such burdens on the mind And toiled so hard and late To leave some monument behind, Nor thought of the leveling wind.”
“Grant me an old man's frenzy, Myself must I remake Till I am Timon and Lear Or that William Blake Who beat upon the wall Till Truth obeyed his call.”
“We can only begin to live when we conceive life as Tragedy.”
“A spot whereon the founders lived and diedSeemed once more dear than life; ancestral trees,Or gardens rich in memory glorifiedMarriages, alliances, and families,And every bride's ambition satisfied.”
“A poet is a good citizen turned inside out.”
“And learn that the best thing isTo change my loves while dancingAnd pay but a kiss for a kiss.”
“It's certain there are trout somewhere - And maybe I shall take a trout - but I do not seem to care.”
“O but we dreamed to mend Whatever mischief seemed To afflict mankind, but now That winds of winter blow Learn that we were crack-pated when we dreamed.”
“Only the wasteful virtues earn the sun.”
“Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire.”
