Poetry

POETRY IS INDEED SOMETHING DIVINE. IT IS AT ONCE THE CENTRE AND CIRCUMFERENCE OF KNOWLEDGE;

IT IS THAT WHICH COMPREHENDS ALL SCIENCE, AND THAT TO WHICH ALL SCIENCE MUST BE REFERRED...IT IS THE PERFECT AND CONSUMMATE SURFACE AND BLOOM OF ALL THINGS;

IT IS AS THE TEXTURE OF THE ELEMENTS WHICH COMPOSE IT, AS THE FORM AND SPLENDOUR OF UNFADED BEAUTY TO THE SECRETS OF ANATOMY AND CORRUPTION, WHAT WERE VIRTUE, LOVE, PATRIOTISM, FRIENDSHIP -

WHAT WERE THE SCENERY OF THIS BEAUTIFUL UNIVERSE WHICH WE INHABIT; WHAT WERE OUR CONSOLATIONS ON THIS SIDE OF THE GARVE -

AND WHAT WERE OUR INSPIRATIONS BEYOND IT, IF POETRY DID NOT ASCEND TO BRING LIGHT AND FIRE THOSE ETERNAL REGIONS WHERE THE OWL-WINGED FACULTY OF CALCULATION DARE NOT EVER SOAR?

Oliver Simon