Since The Age Of 15 Poetry Has

Love Without Hope, As When The Young Bird-catcher Swept Off His Tall Hat To The Squire's Own Daughter, So Let The Imprisoned Larks Escape And Fly Singing About Her Head, As She Rode By.

I Do Not Love The Sabbath, The Soapsuds And The Starch, The Troops Of Solemn People Who To Salvation March. I Take My Book, I Take My Stick On The Sabbath Day, In Woody Nooks And Valleys I Hide Myself Away. To Ponder There In Quiet God's Universal Plan, Resolved That Church And Sabbath Were Never Made For Man.

Any Honest Housewife Would Sort Them Out,/ Having A Nose For Fish, An Eye For Apples.

There Should Be Two Main Objectives In Ordinary Prose Writing: To Convey A Message And To Include In It Nothing That Will Distract The Reader's Attention Or Check His Habitual Pace Of Reading - He Should Feel That He Is Seated At Ease In A Taxi, Not Riding A Temperamental Horse Through Traffic.

Fact Is Not Truth, But A Poet Who Wilfully Defies Fact Cannot Achieve Truth.