I would define, in brief, the poetry of words as the rhythmical creation of Beauty.
Experience has shown, and a true philosophy will always show, that a vast, perhaps the larger, portion of truth arises from the seemingly irrelevant.
For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And the stars never rise but i feel the bright eyes Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.
With me poetry has not been a purpose, but a passion.
The death of a beautiful woman is, unquestionably, the most poetical topic in the world.
All religion, my friend, is simply evolved out of fraud, fear, greed, imagination, and poetry.