Though Philosophers Like To Define Poetry As

Let All The Poison That Lurks In The Mud, Hatch Out.

Truth-loving Persians Do Not Dwell Upon The Trivial Skirmish Fought Near Marathon.

To Be A Poet Is A Condition Rather Than A Profession.

Faults In English Prose Derive Not So Much From Lack Of Knowledge, Intelligence Or Art As From Lack Of Thought, Patience Or Goodwill.

Haunted Gulp Down Your Wine, Old Friends Of Mine, Roar Through The Darkness, Stamp And Sing And Lay Ghost Hands On Everything, But Leave The Noonday's Warm Sunshine To Living Lads For Mirth And Wine. I Met You Suddenly Down The Street, Strangers Assume Your Phantom Faces, You Grin At Me From Daylight Places, Dead, Long Dead, I'm Ashamed To Greet Dead Men Down The Morning Street.