greater genius or more knowledge to support it.
Pope says, There is something in Spenser that pleases one as strongly in one's old age as it did in one's youth.
I read the Faery Queen when I was about twelve with a vast deal of delight; and I think it gave me as much when I read it over about a year or two ago.
Thomson wrote the most delightful of his poems in the measure of Spenser; Collins, Gray, and Akenside show traces of him; and in our own day his influence reappears in Wordsworth, Byron, Shelley, and Keats.
Landor is, I believe, the only poet who ever found him tedious.
Spenser's mere manner has not had so many imitators as Milton's, but no other of our poets has given an impulse, and in the right direction also, to so many and so diverse minds; above all, no other has given to so many young souls a consciousness of their wings and a delight in the use of them.
He is a standing protest against the tyranny of Commonplace, and sows the seeds of a noble discontent with pros
nting tongue of thirsty skies. Both of these passages have disappeared from the revised edition, as well as some curious outbursts of that motiveless despair which Byron made fashionable not long after.
Nor are there wanting touches of fleshliness which strike us oddly as coming from Wordsworth.
Wordsworth's purity afterwards gs to Duty and on Immortality, did not reach a second edition till 1815.
The reviewers had another laugh, and rival poets pillaged while they scoffed, particularly Byron, among whose verses a bit of Wordsworth showed as incongruously as a sacred vestment on the back of some buccaneering plunderer of an abbey.
Byron, then in his Byron, then in his twentieth year, wrote a review of these volumes not, on the whole, unfair.
Crabb Robinson is reported as saying that Wordsworth was indignant at the Edinburgh Review's attack on Hours of Idleness.
The young man will do something if he goes on, he said. There was a general combination to put him down, but on the other hand there w
rms vanquisht, markt, lookt, etc.
Surely he does not mean to imply that these are peculiar to Milton?
Chapman used them before Milton was born, and pressed them farther, as in nak't and saf't for naked and saved. He often prefers the contracted form in his prose also, showing that the full form of the past participle in ed was passing out of fashion, though available in verse.
Chapman's spelling is presumably his own. At least he looked after his printed texts.
I have two copies of his Byron's Conspiracy, both dated 1608, but one evidently printed later than the other, for it shows corrections.
The more solemn ending in ed was probably kept alive by the reading of the Bible in churches.
Though now dropped by the clergy, it is essential to the right hearing of the more metrical passages in the Old Testament, which are finer and more scientific than anything in the language, unless it be some parts of Samson Agonistes.
I remember an old gentleman who always used the contracted
Three men, almost contemporaneous with each other,— Wordsworth, Keats, and Byron,— were the great means of bringing back English poetry from the sandy deserts otravagance.
He was the deepest thinker, Keats the most essentially a poet, and Byron the most keenly intellectual of the three.
Keats had the broadest mind, or at is mind was open on more sides, and he was able to understand Wordsworth and judge Byron, equally conscious, through his artistic sense, of the greatnesses of the onher, while Wordsworth was isolated in a feeling of his prophetic character, and Byron had only an uneasy and jealous instinct of contemporary merit.
The poems of Woitiveness of organization, the moods of his own taste and feeling; and those of Byron, who was impressible chiefly through the understanding, the intellectual and moorth has influenced most the ideas of succeeding poets; Keats, their forms; and Byron, interesting to men of imagination less for his writings than for what his writ