It Should Here Be Added That Poetry

To Know Anything Of A Poet But His Poetry Is, So Far As The Poetry Is Concerned, To Know Something That May Be Entertaining, Even Delightful, But Is Certainly Inessential.

And Not A Girl Goes Walking Along The Cotswold Lanes But Knows Men's Eyes In April Are Quicker Than Their Brains.

Grant Us The Wil1 To Fashion As We Feel, Grant Us The Strength To Labor As We Know, Grant Us The Purpose, Ribbed And Edged With Steel, To Strike The Blow.

Great Men Are Rare, Poets Are Rarer, But The Great Man Who Is A Poet, Transfiguring His Greatness, Is The Rarest Of All Events.

Poetry Being The Sign Of That Which All Men Desire, Even Though The Desire Be Unconscious, Intensity Of Life Or Completeness Of Experience, The Universality Of Its Appeal Is A Matter Of Course.