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Swimmer of noonday, lean for the perfect dive To the dead Mother's face, whose subtile down You had not seen take amber light alive.
Allen Tate
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Allen Tate
Age: 79 †
Born: 1899
Born: November 19
Died: 1979
Died: February 9
Author
Literary Critic
Poet
University Teacher
Writer
Winchester
Kentucky
John Orley Allen Tate
Face
Amber
Faces
Dive
Perfect
Lean
Mother
Swimming
Light
Whose
Take
Dead
Seen
Noonday
Alive
Swimmer
More quotes by Allen Tate
But we shall not know the world by looking at it we know it by looking at the hovering fly.
Allen Tate
Genetic theories, I gather, have been cherished academically with detachment.
Allen Tate
Dramatic experience is not logical it may be subdued to the kind of coherence that we indicate when we speak, in criticism, of form.
Allen Tate
Struck in the wet mire Four thousand leagues from the ninth buried city I thought of Troy, what we had built her for.
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What is the poem, after it is written? That is the question. Not where it came from or why.
Allen Tate
William Blake cursed the flesh for a clod, Yet of some of his sayings we Moderns have heard tell: 'The nakedness of woman is the work of God', Or that title--The Marriage of Heaven and Hell.
Allen Tate
Religion is the sole technique for the validating of values.
Allen Tate
The Spring I seek is in a new face only.
Allen Tate
Good manners, Madam, are had these days not For your asking, nor mine, nor what-we-used-to-be's. The day is a loud grenade that bursts a smile Of serious weeds in a comic lily plot.
Allen Tate
Antiquity breached mortality with myths. Narcissus is vocabulary. Hermes decorates A cornice on the Third National Bank.
Allen Tate
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.
Allen Tate
Men cannot live forever But they must die forever.
Allen Tate
The dreary flies, lazy and casual, Stick to the ceiling, buzz along the wall. O heart, the spider shuffles from the mould Weaving, between the pinks and grapes, his pall.
Allen Tate
Dark accurate plunger down the successive knell Of arch on arch, where ogives burst a red Reverberance of hail upon the dead Thunder like an exploding crucible!
Allen Tate
Last night I fled until I came To streets where leaking casements dripped Stale lamplight from the corpse of flame A nervous window bled.
Allen Tate
Men expect too much, do too little.
Allen Tate
Let us begin to understand the argument. There is a solution to everything: Science.
Allen Tate
The twilight is long fingers and black hair.
Allen Tate
Narcissism and the Confederate dead cannot be connected logically, or even historically even were the connection an historical fact, they would not stand connected as art, for no one experiences raw history.
Allen Tate
I believe the term modulation denotes in music the uninterrupted shift from one key to another: I do not know the term for change of rhythm without change of measure.
Allen Tate