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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=540791" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Moralists</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=540791" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">You would extend the mind beyond the act, <br>Furious, bending, suffering in thin <br>And unpoetic dicta; you have been <br>Forced by hypothesis to fiercer fact. <br>As metal singing hard, with firmness racked, <br>You formulate our passion; and behind <br>In some harsh moment nowise of the mind <br>Lie the old meanings your advance has packed. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=540791" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><br>No man can hold existence in the head. <br>I, too, have known the anguish of the right <br>Amid this net of mathematic dearth, <br>And the brain throbbing like a ship at night: <br>Have faced with old unmitigated dread <br>The hard familiar wrinkles of the earth.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Yvor+Winters">Yvor Winters</a></strong></div>

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