See this abdicated beast, once king Of them all, nibble…

“When bullying April bruised mine eyes With sleet-bound appetites and crude Experiments of green, I still was wise And kissed the blossoming rod.”

— Cecil Day-Lewis

Selfhood begins with a walking away, And love is proved in letting go.

— Cecil Day-Lewis

Love is proved in the letting go.

— Cecil Day-Lewis

To travel like a bird, lightly to view | Deserts where stone gods founder in the sand, | Ocean embraced in a white sleep…

— Cecil Day-Lewis

High sprits they had: gravity they flouted.

— Cecil Day-Lewis

There's a kind of release And a kind of torment in every goodbye for every man.

— Cecil Day-Lewis

“The river this November afternoon Rests in an equipoise of sun and cloud: A glooming light, a gleaming darkness shroud Its passage. All seems…

— Cecil Day-Lewis

The poetic myths are dead; and the poetic image, which is the myth of the individual, reigns in their stead.

— Cecil Day-Lewis

Flying alone! Nothing gives such a sense of mastery over time over mechanism, mastery indeed over space, time, and life itself, as this.

— Cecil Day-Lewis

A poet is not a public figure. A poet should be read and not seen.

— Cecil Day-Lewis

It is unwise to equate scientific activity with what we call reason, poetic activity with what we call imagination. Without the imaginative leap from…

— Cecil Day-Lewis

“poetry is not—except in a very limited sense—a form of self-expression. Who on earth supposes that the pearl expresses the oyster?”

— Cecil Day-Lewis

“And yet this self, contains Tides, continents and stars―a myriad selves, Is small and solitary as one grass-blade Passed over by the wind Amongst…

— Cecil Day-Lewis

“In June we picked the clover, And sea-shells in July: There was no silence at the door, No word from the sky. A hand…

— Cecil Day-Lewis

“Is it birthday weather for you, dear soul? Is it fine your way, With tall moon-daisies alight, and the mole Busy, and elegant hares…

— Cecil Day-Lewis