A critic must accept what is best in a poet, and thus become his best encourager. — Edmund Clarence Stedman Accepting Copy Share Image
Science has but one fashion-to lose nothing once gained. — Edmund Clarence Stedman Accounts Copy Share Image
Genius does not need a special language; it uses newly whatever tongue it finds. — Edmund Clarence Stedman Doe Copy Share Image
O fresh-lit dawn! immortal life! O Earth's betrothal, sweet and true! — Edmund Clarence Stedman Dawn Copy Share Image
Music waves eternal wands,-- Enchantress of the souls of mortals! — Edmund Clarence Stedman Death Copy Share Image
Fashion is a potency in art, making it hard to judge between the temporary and the lasting. — Edmund Clarence Stedman Art Copy Share Image
The weary August days are long; The locusts sing a plaintive song, The cattle miss their master's call When they see the… — Edmund Clarence Stedman August Copy Share Image
Look on this cast, and know the hand That bore a nation in its hold; From this mute witness understand What Lincoln… — Edmund Clarence Stedman Bores Copy Share Image
Lo, as I gaze, the statured man, Built up from you large hand appears: A type that nature wills to plan But… — Edmund Clarence Stedman Built Copy Share Image
Alas, by what rude fate Our lives, like ships at sea, an instant meet, Then part forever on their courses fleet. — Edmund Clarence Stedman Alas Copy Share Image
The poet is a creator, not an iconoclast, and never will tamely endeavor to say in prose what can only be expressed… — Edmund Clarence Stedman Creator Copy Share Image
The critic's first labor is the task of distinguishing between men, as history and their works display them, and the ideals which… — Edmund Clarence Stedman Acceptance Copy Share Image
Natural emotion is the soul of poetry, as melody is of music; the same faults are engendered by over-study of either art;… — Edmund Clarence Stedman Art Copy Share Image
Above the clouds I lift my wing To hear the bells of Heaven ring; Some of their music, though my fights be… — Edmund Clarence Stedman Above the clouds Copy Share Image
Give us a man of God's own mould Born to marshall his fellow-men; One whose fame is not bought and sold At… — Edmund Clarence Stedman Abraham Copy Share Image
No clouds are in the morning sky, The vapors hug the stream, Who says that life and love can die In all… — Edmund Clarence Stedman And love Copy Share Image
No, he was no such charlatan-- Count de Hoboken Flash-in-the-Pan-- Full of gasconade and bravado, But a regular, rich Don Rataplane, Santa… — Edmund Clarence Stedman Bravado Copy Share Image
Is there a rarer being, Is there a fairer sphere Where the strong are not unseeing, And the harvests are not sere;… — Edmund Clarence Stedman Dues Copy Share Image
Whither away, Bluebird, Whither away? The blast is chill, yet in the upper sky Thou still canst find the color of thy… — Edmund Clarence Stedman Blast Copy Share Image
Worth, courage, honor, these indeed Your sustenance and birthright are. — Edmund Clarence Stedman Birthright Copy Share Image
Men are egotists, and not all tolerant of one man's selfhood; they do not always deem the amities elective. — Edmund Clarence Stedman Amity Copy Share Image
Poetry is an art, and chief of the fine art; the easiest to dabble in, the hardest in which to reach true… — Edmund Clarence Stedman Art Copy Share Image
The poet who does not revere his art, and believe in its sovereignty, is not born to wear the purple. — Edmund Clarence Stedman Art Copy Share Image
Let the winds blow! a fiercer gale Is wild within me! what may quell That sullen tempest? I must sail Whither, O… — Edmund Clarence Stedman Blow Copy Share Image
Yes, there's a luck in most things; and in none more than being born at the right time. — Edmund Clarence Stedman Born Copy Share Image
Progress comes by experiment, and this from ennui that leads to voyages, wars, revolutions, and plainly to change in the arts of… — Edmund Clarence Stedman Art Copy Share Image
War! war! war! Heaven aid the right! God move the hero's arm in the fearful fight! God send the women sleep in… — Edmund Clarence Stedman Aids Copy Share Image
But every human path leads on to God; He holds a myriad finer threads than gold, And strong as holy wishes, drawing… — Edmund Clarence Stedman Delicate Copy Share Image
Do your heart and head keep pace? When does hoary Love expire, When do frosts put out the fire? Can its embers… — Edmund Clarence Stedman Chill Copy Share Image
