Top 79 Quotes & Sayings by Allen Tate - Page 2

Explore popular quotes and sayings by an American poet Allen Tate.

Last updated on November 18, 2024.

There's precious little to say between day and dark, Perhaps a few words on the implacable will Of time sailing like a magic barque Or something as fine for the amenities.

Allen Tate

So the dubbed conceit Played nursery of cheat To clear the I of sleet.

Allen Tate

POET If not in a place, where are the People weeping? LIBERAL They creep weeping in the face, not place. POET Is it something with which we may cope The weeping, the creeping, the peepee-ing, the peeping?

Allen Tate

William Blake cursed the flesh for a clod, Yet of some of his sayings we Moderns have heard tell: 'The nakedness of woman is the work of God', Or that title--The Marriage of Heaven and Hell.

Allen Tate

Our loss put six feet under ground Is measured by the magnolia's root; Our gain's the intellectual sound Of death's feet round a weedy tomb.

Allen Tate

Yevgeny Yevtushenko is a ham actor, not a poet.

Allen Tate

All the sea-gods are dead. You, Venus, come home To your salt maidenhead.

Allen Tate

Peering, I heard the hooves come down the hill. The posse passed, twelve horse; the leader's face Was worn as limestone on an ancient sill.

Allen Tate

The dusk runs down the lane driven like hail; Far off a precise whistle is escheat To the dark; and then the towering weak and pale.

Allen Tate

My darling boy whom I shall never know, My son, I love you in my deepest fears.

Allen Tate

The day's at end and there's nowhere to go, Draw to the fire, even this fire is dying; Get up and once again politely lying Invite the ladies toward the mistletoe.

Allen Tate

Swimmer of noonday, lean for the perfect dive To the dead Mother's face, whose subtile down You had not seen take amber light alive.

Allen Tate

Last night I fled until I came To streets where leaking casements dripped Stale lamplight from the corpse of flame; A nervous window bled.

Allen Tate

I say that what one loves is best: The midnight fastness of the heart.

Allen Tate

Walk in this faithless grass with studious tread, Lest mice, weasels, germane beasts, too soon The tall hat and eyes, the fierce feet, for dead Descry, and fix you prone in their revelling moon.

Allen Tate

For often at Church I've seen the stained high glass Pour out the Virgin and Saints, twist and untwist The mortal youth of Christ astride an ass.

Allen Tate

Good manners, Madam, are had these days not For your asking, nor mine, nor what-we-used-to-be's. The day is a loud grenade that bursts a smile Of serious weeds in a comic lily plot.

Allen Tate

In the cold morning the rested street stands up To greet the clerk who saunters down the world.

Allen Tate

Death's long anabasis.

Allen Tate