The experience of each new age requires a new confession, and the world seems always waiting for its poet.

The Cold Heaven

SUDDENLY I saw the cold and rook-delighting Heaven That seemed as though ice burned and was but the more ice, And thereupon imagination and heart were driven So wild...

By W. B. Yeats
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26 August

Wait Without Hope

I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope For hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love, For love would be love...

By T.S. Eliot
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25 August

Love’s Growth

I SCARCE believe my love to be so pure As I had thought it was, Because it doth endure Vicissitude, and season, as the grass ; Methinks I lied all...

By John Donne
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24 August

O Captain!

O Captain my Captain! our fearful trip is done; The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won; The port is near, the bells I...

By Walt Whitman
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20 August

Mohammed’s Summoning

for T.W. Power stepped into his hiding place: at once a presence he could not mistake. He begged the Angel—pure, erect, ablaze— to leave him as he was. He would...

By Rilke
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19 August


Come, my friends. 'Tis not too late to seek a newer world. Push off, and sitting well in order smite the sounding furrows; for my purpose holds To sail beyond...

By Lord Alfred Tennyson
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17 August