You are the music while the music lasts.
I grow old โฆ I grow old โฆ I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.
The circle of our understanding is a very restricted area.
Not only every great poet, but every genuine, but lesser poet, fulfils once for all some possibility of language, and so leaves one possibility less for his successors.
Do I dare disturb the universe?
The hint half guessed, the gift half understood, is incarnation. Here the impossible union of spheres of existence is actual. Here the past and future are conquered and reconciled.