Paint here no draped despairs, no saddening clouds, Where the soul rests, proclaims eternity. But let the wrong cry out as raw as wounds, This Time forgets and never heals, far less transcends. — Stephen Spender Copy Share Image
Under the olive trees, from the ground Grows this flower, which is a wound. It is easier to ignore Than the heroes' sunset fire Of death plunged in their willed desire Raging with flags on the world's shore. — Stephen Spender Copy Share Image
I think continually of those who were truly great . Who, from the womb, remembered the soul 's history Through corridors of light where… — Stephen Spender Copy Share Image
Since we are what we are, what shall we be But what we are? We are, we have Six feet and seventy years, to… — Stephen Spender Copy Share Image
One of my great surprises when I was in America was about twenty-five years ago in Harvard, hearing Randall Jarrell deliver a bitter attack… — Stephen Spender Copy Share Image
What is precious is never to forget, The delight of the blood drawn from ancient springs, Breaking through rocks in worlds before our earth;… — Stephen Spender Copy Share Image
If you get to a certain age, all people want to know about you is people you knew. ...An American student once said to… — Stephen Spender Copy Share Image
Involved in my own entrails and a crust Turning a pitted surface towards a space, I am a world that watches through a sky… — Stephen Spender Copy Share Image
Although Poets are vain and ambitious, their vanity and ambition are of the purest kind attainable in this world. They are ambitious to be… — Stephen Spender Copy Share Image
Great poetry is always written by somebody straining to go beyond what he can do. — Stephen Spender Copy Share Image
