Now between the meanings of words and their sounds there is ordinarily no discoverable relation except one of accident; and it is therefore miraculous, to the mystic, when words which make sense can also make a uniform objective structure of accents and rhymes.

And if no Lethe flows beneath your casement, And when ten years have not brought full effacement, Philosophy was wrong, and you may meet.

But we moderns are impatient and destructive.

When critics are waiting to pounce upon poetic style on exactly the same grounds as if it were prose, the poets tremble.

He can develop sense and style, in the manner of distinguished modern prose, in which event he may be sure that the result will not fall into any objective form.

The arts generally have had to recognize Modernism - how should poetry escape?

It is a miracle of harmony, of the adaptation of the free inner life to the outward necessity of things.