Allen Tate
Allen Tate
John Orley Allen Tate, known professionally as Allen Tate, was an American poet, essayist, social commentator, and Poet Laureate from 1943 to 1944...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth19 November 1899
CountryUnited States of America
twilight hair long
The twilight is long fingers and black hair.
kings twilight long
What was I saying? An Egyptian king Once touched long fingers, which are not anything.
fall twilight eye
And I have seen long fingers that would stare With fiery eyes, and then the eyes would crawl Deftly across the counterpane and fall Soundless, with a wink of mild despair.
twilight space sight
Punctilious abyss, the yawn of space Come once a day to suffocate the sight.
twilight dark sailing
There's precious little to say between day and dark, Perhaps a few words on the implacable will Of time sailing like a magic barque Or something as fine for the amenities....
experience criticism may
Dramatic experience is not logical; it may be subdued to the kind of coherence that we indicate when we speak, in criticism, of form.
war fighting winning
The poet is he who fights on the passionate Side and whoever loses he wins; when he Is defeated it is hard to say who wins....
truth science argument
Let us begin to understand the argument. There is a solution to everything: Science.
waste drains intellect
For intellect is a mansion where waste is without drain....
vocabulary mortality hermes
Antiquity breached mortality with myths. Narcissus is vocabulary. Hermes decorates A cornice on the Third National Bank.
fashion men skills
Men expect too much, do too little, Put the contraption before the accomplishment, Lack skill of the interior mind To fashion dignity with shapes of air. Luxury, yes but not elegance!
christian self expression
In an age of abstract experience, fornication Is self-expression, adjunct to Christian euphoria, And whores become delinquents; delinquents, patients; Patients, wards of society. Whores, by that rule, Are precious.
wind names yield
Row after row with strict impunity The headstones yield their names to the element, The wind whirrs without recollection....
hands darkness singing
I have felt darkness lead me by the hand Over the hill to greet the singing dawn....