To Be A Poet Is A Condition

When I'm Killed, Don't Think Of Me Buried There In Cambrin Wood, Nor As In Zion Think Of Me With The Intolerable Good. And There's One Thing That I Know Well, I'm Damned If I'll Be Damned To Hell!

Well, We've Been Lucky Devils Both And There Is No Need For A Pledge Or Oath To Bind Our Lovely Friendship Fast, By Firmer Stuff Close Bound Enough.

Genius Not Only Diagnoses The Situation But Supplies The Answers.

For Words Of Rapture Groping, They"never Such Love," Swore "ever Before Was!"

Abstract Reason, Formerly The Servant Of Practical Human Reasons, Has Everywhere Become Its Master, And Denies Poetry Any Excuse For Existence. Though Philosophers Like To Define Poetry As Irrational Fancy, For Us It Is Practical, Humorous, Reasonable Way Of Being Ourselves. Of Never Acquiescing In A Fraud; Of Never Accepting The Secondary-rate In Poetry, Painting, Music, Love, Friends. Of Safeguarding Our Poetic Institutions Against The Encroachments Of Mechanized, Insensate, Inhumane, Abstract Rationality.