Oh Let Us Not Be Condemned For

Windbags Can Be Right. Aphorists Can Be Wrong. It Is A Tough World.

A Poem With Grandly Conceived And Executed Stanzas, Such As One Of Keats's Odes, Should Be Like An Enfilade Of Rooms In A Palace: One Proceeds, With Eager Anticipation, From Room To Room.

One Problem We Face Comes From The Lack Of Any Agreed Sense Of How We Should Be Working To Train Ourselves To Write Poetry.

The Writing Of A Poem Is Like A Child Throwing Stones Into A Mineshaft. You Compose First, Then You Listen For The Reverberation.

Writing For The Page Is Only One Form Of Writing For The Eye. Wherever Solemn Inscriptions Are Put Up In Public Places, There Is A Sense That The Site And The Occasion Demand A Form Of Writing Which Goes Beyond Plain Informative Prose. Each Word Is So Valued That The Letters Forming It Are Seen As Objects Of Solemn Beauty.