tears; she can boast of no celestial choir that distinguishes her vital juices from those of

prose; the same human blood circulates through the veins of them both.

If it be affirmed that rhyme and metrical arrangement of themselves constitute a

distinction which overturns what has just been said on the strict affinity of metrical

language with that of prose, and paves the way for other artificial distinctions which the

mind voluntarily admits, I answer that the language of such Poetry as is here

recommended is, as far as is possible, a selection of the language really spoken by men;

that this selection, wherever it is made with true taste and feeling, will of itself form a

distinction far greater than would at first be imagined, and will entirely separate the

composition from the vulgarity and meanness of ordinary life; and, if metre be

superadded thereto, I believe that a dissimilitude will be produced altogether sufficient

for the gratification of a rational mind. What other distinction would we have? Whence is

it to come? and where is it to exist? Not, surely, where the Poet speaks through the

mouths of his characters: it cannot be necessary here, either for elevation of style, or any

of its supposed ornaments: for, if the Poet's subject be judiciously chosen, it will

naturally, and upon fit occasion, lead him to passions the language of which, if selected

truly and judiciously, must necessarily be dignified and variegated, and alive with

metaphors and figures. I forbear to speak of an incongruity which would shock the

intelligent Reader, should the Poet interweave any foreign splendour of his own with that

which the passion naturally suggests: it is sufficient to say that such addition is

unnecessary. and, surely, it is more probable that those passages, which with propriety

abound with metaphors and figures, will have their due effect, if, upon other occasions

where the passions are of a milder character, the style also be subdued and temperate.

But, as the pleasure which I hope to give by the Poems now presented to the Reader

must depend entirely on just notions upon this subject, and, as it is in itself of high

importance to our taste and moral feelings, I cannot content myself with these detached

remarks. and if, in what I am about to say, it shall appear to some that my labour is

unnecessary, and that I am like a man fighting a battle without enemies, such persons

may be reminded, that, whatever be the language outwardly holden by men, a practical

faith in the opinions which I am wishing to establish is almost unknown. If my

conclusions are admitted, and carried as far as they must be carried if admitted at all, our

judgements concerning the works of the greatest Poets both ancient and modern will be

far different from what they are at present, both when we praise, and when we censure:

and our moral feelings influencing and influenced by these judgements will, I believe, be

corrected and purified.

Taking up the subject, then, upon general grounds, let me ask, what is meant by the

word Poet? What is a Poet? to whom does he address himself? and what language is to

be expected from him?-He is a man speaking to men: a man, it is true, endowed with

more lively sensibility, more enthusiasm and tenderness, who has a greater knowledge of

human nature, and a more comprehensive soul, than are supposed to be common among

mankind; a man pleased with his own passions and volitions, and who rejoices more than

other men in the spirit of life that is in him; delighting to contemplate similar volitions

and passions as manifested in the goings-on of the Universe, and habitually impelled to

create them where he does not find them. to these qualities he has added a disposition to

be affected more than other men by absent things as if they were present; an ability of

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