The way through the worldIs more difficult to find than the way beyond it.
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We live in an old chaos of the sun.
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It was soldier's went marching over the rocks,and still they came in watery flocks,because it was spring and the birds had to come,No doubt that soldi...
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I do not know which to prefer,The beauty of inflectionsOr the beauty of innuendosThe blackbird whistlingOr just after.
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Perhaps the truth depends on a walk around the lake.
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In poetry you must love the words the ideas and the images and rhythms with all your capacity to love anything at all.
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Poetry is an abstraction bloodied.
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The poet is the priest of the invisible.
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A change of style is a change of meaning.
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THE POEMS OF OUR CLIMATEIClear water in a brilliant bowl, Pink and white carnations. The lightIn the room more like a snowy air, Reflecting snow. A ne...
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Poetry is the scholar's art.
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There will never be an endTo this droning of the surf.
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I placed a jar in Tennessee and round it was upon a hill.
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The Poem That Took The Place Of A MountainThere it was, word for word, The poem that took the place of a mountain. He breathed its oxygen, Even when t...
