All poets adore explosions, thunderstorms, tornadoes, conflagrations, ruins, scenes of spectacular carnage. The poetic imagination is not at all a desirable quality in a statesman.
poets, adore, explosions, tornadoes, conflagrations, ruins, scenes, spectacular, carnage
bit like God confessing he'd never gotten the hang of the thunderstorms.
God, confessing, never, hang
A thousand miles of mighty wood Where thunder-storms stride fire-shod; A thousand flowers every rod, A stately tree on every rood; Ten thousand leaves on every tree, And each a miracle to me; And yet there be men who question God!
thousand, miles, mighty, wood, stride, flowers, rod, stately, tree
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