Lyrical Ballads became both the symbol and instrument of that revolution. Frankly speaking, I have no formal training in management, and I am no expert on management theories. Wordsworth had been looking for a satisfactory psychology, and this was it. People have a conducive settling for the full maturity of heart. However, I'd like to pursue both these poets further! After reading many the lines between each become blurred as he often repeats similar themes and ideas. The metre of the old ballads is very artless; yet they contain many passages which would illustrate this opinion; and, I hope, if the following Poems be attentively perused, similar instances will be found in them. Ye winds, that have made me your sport, Convey to this desolate shore Some cordial endearing report Of a land I must visit no more.
But I still really just couldn't give less of a shit. It is not, then, to be supposed that any one, who holds that sublime notion of Poetry which I have attempted to convey, will break in upon the sanctity and truth of his pictures by transitory and accidental ornaments, and endeavour to excite admiration of himself by arts, the necessity of which must manifestly depend upon the assumed meanness of his subject. The Romantics were compelled to look about for new ways of saying things. Many people believe that the 'V' in our brand name stands for 'We'. Well, he and the other early romantic poets; they make up the flock. To the second edition of the Lyrical mallads, published in 1800, he added a more detailed Preface.
For all good poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: but though this be true, Poems to which any value can be attached, were never produced on any variety of subjects but by a man, who being possessed of more than usual organic sensibility, had also thought long and deeply. What Burns, Blake, and Cowper, his contemporaries, wanted to do and could not, he did. It is an acknowledgement of the beauty of the universe, an acknowledgement the more sincere, because not formal, but indirect; it is a task light and easy to him who looks at the world in the spirit of love: further, it is a homage paid to the native and naked dignity of man, to the grand elementary principle of pleasure, by which he knows, and feels, and lives, and moves. So that it will be the wish of the Poet to bring his feelings near to those of the persons whose feelings he describes, nay, for short spaces of time, perhaps, to let himself slip into an entire delusion, and even confound and identify his own feelings with theirs; modifying only the language which is thus suggested to him by a consideration that he describes for a particular purpose, that of giving pleasure. They defined reproduction of poems through experimental qualities and gave birth not only poems but also how these effect and relate with day to day life and language of regular peoples also. The most famous poets of the English Romantic Movement are William Wordsworth, Samuel Coleridge, William Blake, Lord Byron, Percy Bysshe Shelley, and John Keats. For this, he must have a sensibility far beyond that of the ordinary individual.
Coleridge's contemporaries alleged it was impossible not to plan on a vast and abstract scale while under his influence. Also could be about a song or oral tradition. He was in the process of writing his own poems, and the two men constantly aired their views on the nature of poetry and the poetic faculty. The elaborate and absurd similes and images had to be banished, and fresh and incisive poetic insights would have to replace the stereotyped and labored abstractions of their predecessors. However painful may be the objects with which the Anatomist's knowledge is connected, he feels that his knowledge is pleasure; and where he has no pleasure he has no knowledge. For the human mind is capable of being excited without the application of gross and violent stimulants; and he must have a very faint perception of its beauty and dignity who does not know this, and who does not further know, that one being is elevated above another, in proportion as he possesses this capability. Coleridge says in the Biographia Literaria 1814 that he was convinced Wordsworth's work was not the product of simple fancy, but of imagination — a creative, and not a mere associative, faculty.
Coleridge encouraged Wordsworth to write a preface to Lyrical Ballads. But as children grow older, the memory fades, and the magic of nature dies. I could fell the sarcasm and annoyance oozing out of his words, but also a sense of literary superiority. It is supposed, that by the act of writing in verse an Author makes a formal engagement that he will gratify certain known habits of association; that he not only thus apprises the Reader that certain classes of ideas and expressions will be found in his book, but that others will be carefully excluded. My favorites from this collection are We Are Seven, The Thorn and The Last of the Flock. Undoubtedly with our moral sentiments and animal sensations, and with the causes which excite these; with the operations of the elements, and the appearances of the visible universe; with storm and sunshine, with the revolutions of the seasons, with cold and heat, with loss of friends and kindred, with injuries and resentments, gratitude and hope, with fear and sorrow. I pray you tell, Sweet Maid, how this may be.
The lines entitled Expostulation and Reply, and those which follow, arose out of conversation with a friend who was somewhat unreasonably attached to modern books of moral philosophy. ! I am sensible that my associations must have sometimes been particular instead of general, and that, consequently, giving to things a false importance, sometimes from diseased impulses I may have written upon unworthy subjects; but I am less apprehensive on this account, than that my language may frequently have suffered from those arbitrary connections of feelings and ideas with particular words and phrases, from which no man can altogether protect himself. Two years later the second edition to Lyrical Ballads, a sequel of sorts, was published that included new poems as well as the originals. These feelings should be powerful and strong that has been lingering for a long. This circumstance, however, was disregarded by their successors; they found that they could please by easier means: they became proud of a language which they themselves had invented, and which was uttered only by themselves; and, with the spirit of a fraternity, they arrogated it to themselves as their own. The first four lines are poorly expressed; some Critics would call the language prosaic; the fact is, it would be bad prose, so bad, that it is scarcely worse in metre. The middle section when the crew awakes is a shivering marvel.
For Wordsworth the process characteristically begins in a state of calm with the remembering of some past emotional experience. It bridges time so well, from ancient myths and tales of horror to the gothic imagery of the time and even to slasher, apocalyptic movies in the present. The language, too, of these men is adopted purified indeed from what appear to be its real defects, from all lasting and rational causes of dislike or disgust because such men hourly communicate with the best objects from which the best part of language is originally derived; and because, from their rank in society and the sameness and narrow circle of their intercourse, being less under the influence of social vanity they convey their feelings and notions in simple and unelaborated expressions. But although happy thoughts are prompted by the birdsong, so are more sombre ones: nature has forged a strong connection between itself and the soul of mankind, but man has repaid the favour by making a mess of his relations with his fellow man. The Rime of the Ancient Mariner the opener in the Kindle edition is simply one of the most memorable, evocative poems ever written.
The debt to Hartley is apparent throughout Lyrical Ballads. I have one request to make of my Reader, which is, that in judging these Poems he would decide by his own feelings genuinely, and not by reflection upon what will probably be the judgment of others. There will also be found in these volumes little of what is usually called poetic diction; I have taken as much pains to avoid it as others ordinarily take to produce it; this I have done for the reason already alleged, to bring my language near to the language of men, and further, because the pleasure which I have proposed to myself to impart is of a kind very different from that which is supposed by many persons to be the proper object of poetry. Mary Shelley probably the most distinguished guest, but only if she left ol' Perce at home. If the time should ever come when what is now called Science, thus familiarized to men, shall be ready to put on, as it were, a form of flesh and blood, the Poet will lend his divine spirit to aid the transfiguration, and will welcome the Being thus produced, as a dear and genuine inmate of the household of man. He also believes that poetry can be on multiple topics and not restricted on one subject, which is wholly true, as poetry has been arranged on multiple topics and not necessarily linked to the natural aspects that Wordsworth highly prescribes. I have therefore altogether declined to enter regularly upon this defence; yet I am sensible, that there would be some impropriety in abruptly obtruding upon the Public, without a few words of introduction, Poems so materially different from those, upon which general approbation is at present bestowed.
I had formed no very inaccurate estimate of the probable effect of those Poems: I flattered myself that they who should be pleased with them would read them with more than common pleasure: and, on the other hand, I was well aware, that by those who should dislike them, they would be read with more than common dislike. Another circumstance must be mentioned which distinguishes these Poems from the popular Poetry of the day; it is this, that the feeling therein developed gives importance to the action and situation, and not the action and situation to the feeling. Now, if nakedness and simplicity be a defect, the fact here mentioned affords a strong presumption that poems somewhat less naked and simple are capable of affording pleasure at the present day; and, what I wished chiefly to attempt, at present, was to justify myself for having written under the impression of this belief. The poems were superbly non-ornament, yet poignantly written; great for reading on a snow day! Inevitably, perhaps, the above leads Wordsworth towards asking What is a Poet? Moreover, they celebrate the joys and power o I've always shied away from reading poetry anthologies. Simply speaking, the highly sensitive poet is able to experience the beauty of ordinary life, capture his own emotions as they arise and is finally able to sit in a calm, peaceful space to use his imagination to recollect these emotions and finally write about them. The power of any art is limited; and he will suspect, that, if I propose to furnish him with new friends, it is only upon condition of his abandoning his old friends.
There is in these feelings enough to resist a host of arguments; and I should be the less able to combat them successfully, as I am willing to allow, that, in order entirely to enjoy the Poetry which I am recommending, it would be necessary to give up much of what is ordinarily enjoyed. It is the pleasure which results from increased knowledge and understanding. Wordsworth's philosophy of life, his theory of poetry, and his political credo were all intricately connected. Something I must have gained by this practice, as it is friendly to one property of all good poetry, namely, good sense; but it has necessarily cut me off from a large portion of phrases and figures of speech which from father to son have long been regarded as the common inheritance of Poets. The principal object, then, proposed in these Poems was to choose incidents and situations from common life, and to relate or describe them, throughout, as far as was possible in a selection of language really used by men, and, at the same time, to throw over them a certain colouring of imagination, whereby ordinary things should be presented to the mind in an unusual aspect; and, further, and above all, to make these incidents and situations interesting by tracing in them, truly though not ostentatiously, the primary laws of our nature: chiefly, as far as regards the manner in which we associate ideas in a state of excitement. Overall, not a complete write-off and I'm hoping to pick up the collection at some point probably far in the future and attempt to finish it entirely.