He tries by a peculiar speech to speak The peculiar potency of the general

Is there a poem that never reaches words And one that chaffers the time away? Is the poem both peculiar and general? There's a meditation there, in which there…

Like a page of music, like an upper air, Like a momentary color, in which swans Were seraphs, were saints, were changing essences. The west wind was the music,…

The poem goes form the poet's gibberish to The gibberish of the vulgate and back again.

Poetry is the art of using words charged with their utmost meaning. A society whose intellectual leaders lose the skill to shape, appreciate, and understand th…

Her every tone is music's own, Like those of morning birds, And something more than melody Dwells ever in her words.

Literature transforms and intensifies ordinary language, deviates systematically from everyday speech. If you approach me at a bus stop and murmur 'Thou still …