Will

“I looked up from my writing,
And gave a start to see,
As if rapt in my inditing,
The moon's full gaze on me.”
― Thomas Hardy, The Complete Poems

“And if you ask how I regret that parting?
It is like the flowers falling at spring’s end,
confused, whirled in a tangle.
What is the use of talking! And there is no end of talking—
There is no end of things in the heart.”
― Ezra Pound, Cathay

“Oh tarnish late on Wenlock Edge,
Gold that I never see;
Lie long high snowdrifts in the hedge
That will not shower on me.”
― A.E. Housman, A Shropshire Lad

“I too am a poet who has found some favour with the Muse. I too have written songs. I too have heard the shepherds call me bard. But I take it from them with a grain of salt: I have the feeling that I cannot yet compare with Varius or Cinna, but cackle like a goose among melodious swans.”
― Virgil, The Eclogues