POETRY.
Wisdom married to immortal verse.
The Excursion, Bk. VII. w. WORDSWORTH.
Of all those arts in which the wise excel,
Nature's chief masterpiece is writing well;
No writing lifts exalted man so high
As sacred and soul-moving poesy.
Essay on Poetry. SHEFFIELD, DUKE OF BUCKINGHAMSHIRE.
Poetry is itself a thing of God;
He made his prophets poets; and the more
We feel of poesie do we become
Like God in love and power.—under-makers.
Festus: Proem. P.J. BAILEY.
Go boldly forth, my simple lay,
Whose accents flow with artless ease,
Like orient pearls at random strung.
A Persian Song of Hafiz. SIR W. JONES.
One simile that solitary shines
In the dry desert of a thousand lines.
Imitations of Horace. Epistle I. Bk. II. A. POPE.
Read, meditate, reflect, grow wise—in vain;
Try every help, force fire from every spark;
Yet shall you ne'er the poet's power attain,
If heaven ne'er stamped you with the muses' mark.
The Poet. A. HILL.
Jewels five-words long,
That on the stretched forefinger of all time
Sparkle forever.
The Princess, Canto II. A. TENNYSON.
Choice word and measured phrase above the reach
Of ordinary men.
Resolution and Independence. W. WORDSWORTH.
The varying verse, the full resounding line.
The long majestic march, and energy divine.
Imitations of Horace, Bk. II. Epistle I. A. POPE.
Myriads of daisies have shone forth in flower
Near the lark's nest, or in their natural hour
Have passed away; less happy than the one
That, by the unwilling ploughshare, died to prove
The tender charm of poetry and love.
Poems in Summer of 1833, XXXVII. W. WORDSWORTH.
Thanks untraced to lips unknown
Shall greet me like the odors blown
From unseen meadows newly mown,
Or lilies floating in some pond,
Wood-fringed, the wayside gaze beyond;
The traveller owns the grateful sense
Of sweetness near, he knows not whence,
And, pausing, takes with forehead bare
The benediction of the air.
Snow-Bound. J.G. WHITTIER.
Give me that growth which some perchance deem sleep,
Wherewith the steadfast coral-stems arise,
Which, by the toil of gathering energies,
Their upward way into clear sunshine keep
Until, by Heaven's sweetest influences,
Slowly and slowly spreads a speck of green
Into a pleasant island in the seas,
Where, mid tall palms, the cane-roofed home is seen,
And wearied men shall sit at sunset's hour,
Hearing the leaves and loving God's dear power.
Sonnet VII. J.R. LOWELL.
A drainless shower
Of light is poesy: 't is the supreme of power;
'T is might half slumbering on its own right arm.
Sleep and Poetry. J. KEATS.
For dear to gods and men is sacred song.
Self-taught I sing: by Heaven and Heaven alone,
The genuine seeds of poesy are sown.
Odyssey, Bk. XXII. HOMER. Trans. of POPE.
Still govern thou my song,
Urania, and fit audience find, though few.
Paradise Lost, Bk. VII. MILTON.