Poetry: The Best Words In The Best

Men Of Genius Are Rarely Much Annoyed By The Company Of Vulgar People.

The Intelligible Forms Of Ancient Poets, The Fair Humanities Of Old Religion, The Power, The Beauty, And The Majesty That Had Their Haunts In Dale Or Piny Mountain, Or Forest By Slow Stream, Or Pebbly Spring, Or Chasms And Watery Depths, All These Have Vanished; They Live No Longer In The Faith Of Reason.

Flowers Are Lovely; Love Is Flower-like; Friendship Is A Sheltering Tree; Oh The Joys That Came Down Shower-like, Of Friendship, Love, And Liberty, Ere I Was Old!

It Is Saying Less Than The Truth To Affirm That An Excellent Book (and The Remark Holds Almost Equally Good Of A Raphael As Of A Milton) Is Like A Well-chosen And Well-tended Fruit Tree. Its Fruits Are Not Of One Season Only. With The Due And Natural Intervals, We May Recur To It Year After Year, And It Will Supply The Same Nourishment And The Same Gratification, If Only We Ourselves Return To It With The Same Healthful Appetite.

Poor Little Foal Of An Oppressed Race! I Love The Languid Patience Of Thy Face.