Come, drink the mystic wine of Night, Brimming with silence and the stars; While earth, bathed in this holy light, Is seen without its scars. — Louis Untermeyer Copy Share Image
From compromise and things half done, Keep me with stern and stubborn pride; And when at last the fight is won, God, keep me… — Louis Untermeyer Copy Share Image
Poetry is the power of defining the indefinable in terms of the unforgettable. — Louis Untermeyer Copy Share Image
God, though this life is but a wraith, Although we know not what we use, Although we grope with little faith, Give me the… — Louis Untermeyer Copy Share Image
Every poet knows the pun is Pierian, that it springs from the same soil as the Muse. a matching and shifting of vowels and… — Louis Untermeyer Copy Share Image
Life, alas, is very drear. Up with the glass! Down with the beer! — Louis Untermeyer Copy Share Image
Nothing but blackness above And nothing that moves but the cars... God, if you wish for our love, Fling us a handful of stars! — Louis Untermeyer Copy Share Image
What hymns are sung. What praises said. For homemade miracles of bread? — Louis Untermeyer Copy Share Image
Why has our poetry eschewed The rapture and response of food? What hymns are sung and praises said For the home made miracle of… — Louis Untermeyer Copy Share Image
Why has our poetry eschewed The rapture and response of food? What hymns are sung, what praises said For home-made miracles of bread? — Louis Untermeyer Copy Share Image
And fathers are a blessing, too, they give the place a tone; In fact each child should try and have some parents of its… — Louis Untermeyer Copy Share Image
Friendship is like love at its best; not blind but sympathetically all-seeing; a support which does not wait for understanding; an act of faith… — Louis Untermeyer Copy Share Image
Laughter shall drown the raucous shout; And, though these shelt'ring walls are thin, May they be strong to keep hate out And hold love… — Louis Untermeyer Copy Share Image
She has something to say about what life is like-which is all we ask of poetry. — Louis Untermeyer Copy Share Image
Write out of love, write out of instinct, write out of reason. But always for money. — Louis Untermeyer Copy Share Image
It takes a heap o' children to make a home that's true,And home can be a palace grand, or just a plain, old shoe;But… — Louis Untermeyer Copy Share Image
