despair; he has given immortality to a wagon, and
the bee Sophocles has transmitted to eternity a sore toe, and dignified
a tragedy with a chorus of turkeys.
the bee Sophocles has transmitted to eternity a sore toe, and dignified
a tragedy with a chorus of turkeys.
Edgar Allen Poe
) will,
_no doubt, have to struggle with feelings of awkwardness; (ha! ha! ha! )
they will look round for poetry (ha! ha! ha! ha! ), and will be induced
to inquire by what species of courtesy these attempts have been
permitted to assume that title. ' Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!
"Yet, let not Mr. W.
despair; he has given immortality to a wagon, and
the bee Sophocles has transmitted to eternity a sore toe, and dignified
a tragedy with a chorus of turkeys.
"Of Coleridge, I can not speak but with reverence. His towering
intellect! his gigantic power! To use an author quoted by himself,
_'Tai trouve souvent que la plupart des sectes ont raison dans une bonne
partie de ce qu'elles avancent, mais non pas en ce qu'elles nient,' and
_to employ his own language, he has imprisoned his own conceptions by
the barrier he has erected against those of others. It is lamentable to
think that such a mind should be buried in metaphysics, and, like the
Nyctanthes, waste its perfume upon the night alone. In reading that
man's poetry, I tremble like one who stands upon a volcano, conscious
from the very darkness bursting from the crater, of the fire and the
light that are weltering below.
"What is poetry? --Poetry! that Proteus-like idea, with as many
appellations as the nine-titled Corcyra! 'Give me,' I demanded of
a scholar some time ago, 'give me a definition of poetry. '
_'Tresvolontiers;' _and he proceeded to his library, brought me a Dr.
Johnson, and overwhelmed me with a definition. Shade of the immortal
Shakespeare! I imagine to myself the scowl of your spiritual eye upon
the profanity of that scurrilous Ursa Major. Think of poetry, dear B-,
think of poetry, and then think of Dr.
_no doubt, have to struggle with feelings of awkwardness; (ha! ha! ha! )
they will look round for poetry (ha! ha! ha! ha! ), and will be induced
to inquire by what species of courtesy these attempts have been
permitted to assume that title. ' Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!
"Yet, let not Mr. W.
despair; he has given immortality to a wagon, and
the bee Sophocles has transmitted to eternity a sore toe, and dignified
a tragedy with a chorus of turkeys.
"Of Coleridge, I can not speak but with reverence. His towering
intellect! his gigantic power! To use an author quoted by himself,
_'Tai trouve souvent que la plupart des sectes ont raison dans une bonne
partie de ce qu'elles avancent, mais non pas en ce qu'elles nient,' and
_to employ his own language, he has imprisoned his own conceptions by
the barrier he has erected against those of others. It is lamentable to
think that such a mind should be buried in metaphysics, and, like the
Nyctanthes, waste its perfume upon the night alone. In reading that
man's poetry, I tremble like one who stands upon a volcano, conscious
from the very darkness bursting from the crater, of the fire and the
light that are weltering below.
"What is poetry? --Poetry! that Proteus-like idea, with as many
appellations as the nine-titled Corcyra! 'Give me,' I demanded of
a scholar some time ago, 'give me a definition of poetry. '
_'Tresvolontiers;' _and he proceeded to his library, brought me a Dr.
Johnson, and overwhelmed me with a definition. Shade of the immortal
Shakespeare! I imagine to myself the scowl of your spiritual eye upon
the profanity of that scurrilous Ursa Major. Think of poetry, dear B-,
think of poetry, and then think of Dr.
