Sophocles
Many sought in vain to say the joyfullest joyfully
Here finally it speaks to me, here in grief itself declaring.
The raging poet
Fear not the poet, should he nobly rage; his letter does
Kill, but it is that spirit that can enliven spirits.
To young poets
Dear brothers! Our art perhaps is ripe,
since, like the young, it has been long fermented,
soon to the stillness of beauty;
be but glad, as was the Greek!
Love the gods and think kindly of the dead!
Hate noise, as frost! Do not teach or describe!
If the masters make you fear,
ask great nature for advice.
The lovers
We wanted to separate, supposed it good and smart;
But as we did, why did it horrify us as murder, the act?
Ah! We know ourselves little,
For in us a God prevails.
False Popularity
Oh that knower of men! He plays at childishness with children,
But the tree and the child crave what is above him.
Descriptive Poetry
Know this! Apollo is become the god of journalists
And his man is he, who tells him the fact exactly.
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