There Can Be No Proof That Blake's

But In The Finished Art Of The Song The Use Of Words Has No Connection With The Use Of Words In Poetry.

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

Poetry Is The Communication Through Words Of Certain Experiences That Can Be Communicated In No Other Way.

In The Corridors Under Tehre Is Nothing But Sleep. And Stiller Than Ever On Orchard Boughs They Keep Tryst With The Moon, And Deep Is The Silence, Deep On Moon-washed Apples Of Wonder.

Any Long Work In Which Poetry Is Persistent, Be It Epic Or Drama Or Narrative, Is Really A Succession Of Separate Poetic Experiences Governed Into A Related Whole By An Energy Distinct From That Which Evoked Them.