The arrow needs an archer, and poetry a magician.
"He must hold ever in the hand of his mind the weighing scales of metre, rejecting the verse which is too short and that which is too long.
"His mistress, Truth, shall mount her black steed, the veil of allegory drawn across her brow.
"Let her shoot from beneath her eyelashes a hundred glances, challenging and victorious.
"Let the poet place upon her fingers the jewels of the art of many hues, adorn her with the sandal-wood and the saffron of metaphor;
"The bells of alliteration like bangles upon her feet, and on her bosom the necklace of a mysterious rhythm.
Add to these the hidden meaning, like eyes half seen through their lashes, that her whole body may be a perfect mystery."-
"Translation of the Kilidi Afghani," by T. C. Plowden.
The Evening Contemplation