Poetry is bound to concern itself chiefly with permanent aspects of life.

I have seen these ways of God: I know of no reason For fire and change and torture and the old returnings.

Something utterly wild had crept into his mind.The seabeaten coast, the fierce freedom of its hunting hawks, possessed and spoke through him. It was one of the…

Here from this mountain shore, headland beyond stormy headland plunging like dolphins through the blue sea-smoke Into pale sea - look west at the hill of water…

Quand vous serez bien vieille, au soir, a la chandelle, Assise aupres du feu, devidant et filant, Direz, chantant mes vers, en vous emerveillant: 'Ronsard me c…

Besides, time, which despoils castles, enriches verses . . . Time broadens the scope of verses and I know of some which, like music, are everything for all men.

A masterpiece of art has in the mind a fixed place in the chain of being, as much as a plant or a crystal.