Poets that lasting marble seek Must come in Latin or in Greek.

Poets lose half the praise they should have got, Could it be known what they discreetly blot.

Give us enough but with a sparing hand.

A narrow compass! and yet there Dwelt all that 's good, and all that 's fair; Give me but what this riband bound, Take all the rest the sun goes round.

Go, lovely rose! Tell her that wastes her time and me That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be.

His love at once and dread instruct our thought; As man He suffer'd and as God He taught.

Others may use the ocean as their road; Only the English make it their abode.

The lark that shuns on lofty boughs to build, Her humble nest, lies silent in the field.

So must the writer, whose productions should Take with the vulgar, be of vulgar mould.

Poets that lasting marble seek Must come in Latin or in Greek.

The fear of hell, or aiming to be blest, savors too much of private interest.

Vexed sailors cursed the rain, for which poor shepherds prayed in vain.

Could we forbear dispute, and practise love, We should agree as angels do above.

Stronger by weakness, wiser men become.

Leaving the old, both worlds at once they view, That stand upon the threshold of the new.

How small a part of time they share, That are so wondrous sweet and fair!

Illustrious acts high raptures do infuse, And every conqueror creates a muse.

Circle are praised, not that abound, In largeness, but the exactly round.

The seas are quiet when the winds give o'er; So calm are we when passions are no more!

To love is to believe, to hope, to know; Tis an essay, a taste of Heaven below!

And as pale sickness does invade, Your frailer part, the breaches made, In that fair lodging still more clear, Make the bright guest, your soul, appear.

Tea does our fancy aid, Repress those vapours which the head invade, And keeps that palace of the soul serene.

All human things Of dearest value hang on slender strings.

Circle are praised not that abound In largeness but the exactly round.

Poets are like baseball pitchers. Both have their moments. The intervals are the tough things.

Poets are all who love, who feel great truths, And tell them; and the truth of truths is love.

Poets lose half the praise they should have got, Could it be known what they discreetly blot.

In every age poets and social reformers have tried to stimulate the people of their own time to a nobler life by enchanting stories of the virtues of the heroes of old.

I wonder what all those Chinese poets sound like in Chinese. I like their distilled quality.

There are some fine books and essays about that. Lewis Hyde has written about alcoholism and poets and the role that society gives its writers - encouraging them to die.

A Shakespeare could have arisen only on English soil. In the same way, your great dramatists and poets express the nature and essence of the Norwegian people, but they also express that which is universally valid for all mankind.

Example moves the world more than doctrine. The great exemplars are the poets of action, and it makes little difference whether they be forces for good or forces for evil.

In working on a poem, I love to revise. Lots of younger poets don't enjoy this, but in the process of revision I discover things.

Poets are the unacknowledged legislators of the world.

The poets are only the interpreters of the Gods.

Children can write poetry and then, unless they're poets, they stop when reach puberty.

The bicycle, the bicycle surely, should always be the vehicle of novelists and poets.

The poets whom I knew then were all men and all seemed dauntingly sure of themselves - although I am sure that really they were as uncertain as I was.

Nations are born in the hearts of poets, they prosper and die in the hands of politicians.

People wish to be poets more than they wish to write poetry, and that's a mistake. One should wish to celebrate more than one wishes to be celebrated.

Poets are born, not paid.

Inspiration is a farce that poets have invented to give themselves importance.

I'm not, by nature, a collaborator. My biggest influences were people like painters and poets. These are solitary workers.

We have to raise the consciousness; the only way poets can change the world is to raise the consciousness of the general populace.

At the age of 18 all young poets are sure they will be dead at 21 - of old age.

And some poets are far better read off the page because they're very bad speakers. I'm thinking of one in particular whom I won't name, a good poet, and he reads in such a dry, boring way, your eyes start drooping.

Poets, like friends to whom you are in debt, you hate.

Well, we all start thinking we're going to be Romantic rock stars, but then reality hits and you realize no one reads you but other poets.

Poets and heroes are of the same race, the latter do what the former conceive.