The Written Word Is Everything.

It Is Commonly Asserted And Accepted That Paradise Lost Is Among The Two Or Three Greatest English Poems; It May Justly Be Taken As The Type Of Supreme Poetic Achievement In Our Literature.

Any Long Work In Which Poetry Is Persistent, Be It Epic Or Drama Or Narrative, Is Really A Succession Of Separate Poetic Experiences Governed Into A Related Whole By An Energy Distinct From That Which Evoked Them.

So It Is In Poetry. All We Ask Is That The Mood Recorded Shall Impress Us As Having Been Of The Kind That Exhausts The Imaginative Capacity; If It Fails To Do This The Failure Will Announce Itself Either In Prose Or In Insignificant Verse.

When The Poet Makes His Perfect Selection Of A Word, He Is Endowing The Word With Life.

When You Defile The Pleasant Streams, And The Wild Bird's Abiding Place, You Massacre A Million Dreams, And Cast Your Spittle In God's Face