The Poetry Of The Earth Is Never

There Is Not A Fiercer Hell Than The Failure In A Great Object.

Dancing Music, Music Sad, Both Together, Sane And Mad.

Their Woes Gone By, And Both To Heaven Upflown, To Bow For Gratitude Before Jove's Throne.

...i Leaped Headlong Into The Sea, And Thereby Have Become More Acquainted With The Soundings, The Quicksands, And The Rocks, Than If I Had Stayed Upon The Green Shore, And Piped A Silly Pipe, And Took Tea And Comfortable Advice.

Where The Nightingale Doth Sing Not A Senseless, Tranced Thing, But Divine Melodious Truth.