B.A. (Hons.

) English Semester-IV

Core Course
Paper IX – British Romantic Literature
Study Material : SM 1 (Unit 1-3)

SCHOOL OF OPEN LEARNING

UNIVERSITY OF DELHI

Department of English
 Paper IX – British Romantic Literature
Study Material : SM 1 (Unit 1-3)

Contents
Unit-1 01
(a) William Blake ‘Songs of Innocence & Experience’
(b) Charlotte Smith (i) To Melancholy
(ii) Nightingale
Unit-2 41
(a) William Wordsworth (i) Lines Composed a Few Miles
Above Tintern Abbey
(ii) Ode : Intimations of Immortality
(b) Samuel Coleridge (i) Kubla Khan 113
(ii) Dejection : An Ode
Unit-3 165
(a) Lord George Gordon Noel Byron Childe Harold – Canto-III (36-45);
Canto-IV (178-86)
(b) Percy Bysshe Shelley (i) Ode to West Wind
(ii) Ozymandias
(c) John Keats–Odes (i) Ode to a Nightingale
(ii) Ode on a Grecian Urn
(iii) Ode to Autumn

SCHOOL OF OPEN LEARNING

UNIVERSITY OF DELHI
5, Cavalry Lane, Delhi-110007
 Paper IX: British Romantic Literature
Unit-1
(a) William Blake
(b) Charlotte Smith

Contents
(a) William Blake, Songs of Innocence and Experience
1. William Blake: His Life and Works Rachel Mathew
1.1 The Eighteenth-century Background
1.2 The Life of William Blake
1.3 Blake’s Thought
1.4 A Note on Blake and Nature
1.5 Blake’s Poetry
1.6 Songs of Innocence and Experience: An Assessment
2. Study Guide
2.1 Songs of Innocence Rachel Mathew
i) “Introduction”
ii) “The Lamb”
iii) “The Chimney Sweeper”
iv) “The Little Black Boy”
2.2 Songs of Experience P.C. Khanna
i) “The Chimney Sweeper”
ii) “London”
iii) “The Tyger”
2.3 Summing Up
(b) Charlotte Smith Ankita Sethi
1. Introduction
2. About the Author
3. “To Melancholy”
4. “Ode to a Nightingale”

Edited by:
Dr. Seema Suri

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 Unit-1
(a) William Blake: Songs of Innocence and Experience

1. Introduction
William Blake’s Songs of Innocence and Experience was first published in 1794. Blake did
not achieve much success or recognition during his own lifetime but in the early twentieth-
century, critics began to recognize his poetic genius. This Study Material will introduce you
to the historical background of the poet and discuss his beliefs. Blake’s language is simple
but there is a wealth of symbolism behind his poetry. After going through this study material,
you should be;
- familiar with the historical and literary background to the poems;
- understand the symbols and poetic devices used by Blake; and
- appreciate Blake’s unique perspective on Christianity.

1.1 The Eighteenth-Century Background

The European Romantic movement covers a period of about a hundred years, from the
middle of the eighteenth century to the middle of the nineteenth century. There was a vast
upheaval in every sphere of life – social, political, literary, and religious. The changes were
not sudden–there was a gradual rejection of traditional beliefs and institutions. England,
Germany and France were the epicenters of the Romantic Movement.
In the field of literature, England led the way and by the seventeen-sixties, the Romantic
Movement was well under way. Though the term Pre-Romanticism has been used to describe
the literary tendencies of poets writing in the middle of the eighteenth century, and
particularly in the last quarter of the eighteenth century, some of these tendencies may be
seen in some earlier writings also. Some of these poets are Thomas Gray (1716-1761),
William Cowper (1731-1800), Oliver Goldsmith (1730-1774), James Macpherson (1736-
1796), Charlotte Smith (1749-1806), Robert Burns (1759-1796), and William Blake (1757-
1827). The term Pre-Romantic is not strictly definable since most of these poets did not
completely break with the traditions of eighteenth-century poetry, while they definitely
anticipate, in their writings, the Romantic poetry of the nineteenth century.
The Pre-Romantic poets sought new subjects, new poetic forms, and fresh modes of
feeling and expression. The Augustan Age may be called the age of prose and reason and the
Romantic Age the age of poetry and imagination. During the period of transition, the Pre-
Romantic poets began to display imaginative and emotional qualities, a sense of heightened
perception, a new awareness of nature, and a strong sense of individualism. Classical models
of poetry were discarded and poets began to depend on nature and also on their own
individual bent of mind. Their poetry became a personal record of their ideas about man and
nature.

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 It would be useful, at this point, to consider some of the basic differences between
Classical or Neo-Classical poetry and Romantic poetry. Classical poetry is a product of the
intelligence; Romantic poetry of emotion, passion, and imagination. Classical poetry deals
with city life and civilization, whereas Romantic poetry deals with nature and rural life. A
strong feeling for the picturesque, the splendid, the wild and the remote are characteristic of
the Romantic poet when s/he depicts rural life.
The Augustan poets employed a formal, artificial style and showed a marked preference
for the rhymed couplet. The Romantic poets did away with artificial poetic diction and
substituted it with the language of everyday speech. They chose simple subjects and
elemental themes from everyday life. They advocated the use of simple diction and a variety
of verse forms.
In the writings of the Augustans there was a balancing of forces, obtained from the
application of rules. Everything was precise, polished, and “correct.” On the other hand, the
guiding principle of the Romantics was spontaneity. They believed that the poetic genius was
inspired. Their enthusiasm and their love of splendour led them in search of the extravagant,
the supernatural, and the mystic elements in life.
English Classicism flourished in an atmosphere of scientific and critical rationalism
which had been fostered by Newton and Thomas Hobbes. The eighteenth-century poets
adopted an objective approach in their appraisal of common, everyday experience. The
Romantic poets worked through intuition and allowed free play to the imagination.
The Romantics revolted against the doctrine of Reason which their predecessors had
upheld. Empirical philosophers, especially John Locke and David Hume had reduced the
universe to a mechanical universe. The Romantics, on the other hand, marvelled with awe
and wonder; at the majesty, the beauty, and the glory of the world. They rejected the concept
of a fixed, mechanistic universe and substituted it with the theory of an evolutionary society,
gradually moving towards perfection. With their optimistic approach, they refined the
doctrine of the perfectibility of man.
The first guiding principle of the Romantic Movement – “Return to Nature” – was not
merely a love of the picturesque or a heightened awareness of the natural beauties of the
world. It was pitting the world of nature against the world of so-called civilization. The
Romantic spirit responded to the wildness, grandeur, and sublimity of landscape. The
Romantics were aware of the bond between man and nature. With their sensibility and
heightened vision, they interpreted nature and endowed every aspect of it with new meaning.
They re-established harmony between Man and Nature. The creed of Nature worship was
ultimately perfected by William Wordsworth. In the eighteenth-century, writers had already
begun to imbue their poetry with a feeling for the exquisite beauties of nature.
James Thomson (1700-1748) in “The Seasons” was one of the early eighteenth-century
poets to depict real and natural landscape. Mrs. Radcliffe wrote her novels against a
picturesque background. In William Cowper’s poetry, the benign and spiritual influence of

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nature is felt. A strong love for the Scottish country-side runs through the poems of Robert
Burns. The love of nature becomes increasingly important in the poetry of Cowper, Gray and
Blake.
The Romantics often sought solitude; retreating into “the dread watchtower of man’s
absolute self.” This often gave rise to melancholy, which led from the pleasing melancholy of
early Romanticism to the bleak “weltschmerz” (world-weariness) of the nineteenth century,
displayed particularly by Goethe’s characters. As early as the mid-eighteenth century, the
gloomy, melancholic strain gave rise to what is known as the “Graveyard” school of poetry.
Edward Young wrote “Night Thoughts” (1742) and Robert Blair “The Grave” (1743).
Thomas Gray’s “Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard” (1751) is the most famous of these
poems. It is a tribute to the obscure life as well as a commentary on the vanity of human
wishes.
A doctrine that was encouraged by the philosophers, particularly Rousseau in the
eighteenth century, was the doctrine of natural goodness. This resulted in the glorification of
the natural man and the “noble savage.” It was believed that men – savages and peasants -
retained their innate goodness by living close to nature. Oliver Goldsmith, in “The Deserted
Village,” grieved over the loss of rural virtues, with the shift in population from the village to
the city, as a result of the Industrial Revolution. William Collins wrote in favour of a simpler
pattern of life, similar to that of his forefathers. The simple, primitive man received the
highest treatment at the hands of Wordsworth who exalted him into the “noble dalesman.”
At the same time, a glorification of the child and childhood took place. It was felt that the
child, with its intuitive faculties, free from the intervention of analytic reason, absorbed
beauty, goodness and truth from nature by being in close communion with it. Wordsworth
and Coleridge believed in the intuitive wisdom of the child. Blake was the first poet to invest
the child and the state of childhood with a mystical aura. For Blake, childhood was more than
a mere condition of life, it was a spiritual state that adults could attain.
The eighteenth century, being an age of enlightened reform, saw an increase in
philanthropic activity. The poor, the oppressed, and the social outcasts were viewed with
sympathy. Dr. Johnson defended them, James Edward Oglethorpe worked to improve the
conditions of their life, and John Wesley was engaged in the salvation of their souls. Blake
took up their cause and made a searing attack on the forces responsible for reducing a large
section of the population to a state of abject poverty and deprivation. Along with the
emerging compassionate attitude towards children and the poor, there developed a new
feeling for, and an understanding of ordinary country folk, tradesmen, and workmen. There
was a realization that even ordinary, humble people have their role to play in the vast arena of
life. People began to look upon even dumb animals with concern. All creatures great and
small were thus brought together as part of God’s scheme for the world. Blake’s poetry bears
witness to this idea- the sacramental view of life.

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 The eighteenth century was also an age of revolution. It witnessed two political
revolutions - the American Revolution (1776) and the French Revolution (1789). There was
ferment in the intellectual and social spheres as well. No poet of the age was untouched by
these changes. Blake, Wordsworth, and Coleridge were inspired by revolutionary ideas.
Blake was influenced by Thomas Paine, who wrote The Rights of Man (1791); William
Godwin, who wrote Political Justice (1793); and Joseph Priestley, who wrote fiery verses in
defense of liberty. Freedom to Blake and the Romantics meant not only political freedom but,
above all, it meant freedom for the human spirit.
Thinkers of the eighteenth century were stimulated by ideas of the French
Enlightenment. Rousseau had declared that man was essentially good and retrograde forces in
society were responsible for destroying his potential: “Man is born free and everywhere he is
in chains.” Rousseau emphatically refuted the doctrine of Original Sin. According to him,
mankind could be redeemed by the exercise of Reason. By the exercise of the “general will,”
a just and equitable society could be established. Poets like Blake accepted part of
Rousseau’s teaching; they felt that the social order should be changed. For Blake, the
redemption of man lay not in Reason, which he denounced, but in the force of the
imagination.
The final but lasting current of thought which helped to mould the Romantic imagination
was the Idealistic philosophy of Germany; the philosophy of Schelling, Schlegel, and Kant.
They showed how the real and the ideal worlds could be united through goodness and beauty,
that the world within the mind of man was more important than the world outside, and that
the mind alone can give unity and validity to thought. Thus, arose the doctrine of the
individual man. Poets from Blake to Wordsworth and Coleridge, who valued individualism,
defined the role of the Poet-Prophet. The poet became the creative interpreter of Man and
Society.
1.2 The Life of William Blake (1757-1827)
William Blake, poet and artist, was born in London on 28 November 1757. He was the
second son of a respectable hosier of Broad Street. Except for three years in the country, he
lived his entire life in the city. He knew both the city and the surrounding countryside. The
great river, Thames, which he later represented as the River of Life, had a strong hold on his
imagination. Early in life, he displayed the power of visual imagination. He claimed that he
saw visions of God, the angels, and the major prophets. Blake had no formal schooling. At
the age of fourteen he entered into a seven-year apprenticeship with an engraver, James
Basire and when he had finished his training, he entered the Royal Academy. Blake started
writing poetry during this period.
In 1782, Blake married Catherine Boucher, the uneducated daughter of a market
gardener. It turned out to be a happy marriage and she was an ideal companion to Blake.
They lived in 23, Green Street, Leicester Fields for two years and then in 1784 moved to 27,
Broad Street where Blake set up a print-shop. He earned his living by engraving his own

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designs or those of others for books or prints, and by the sale of his illuminated books and his
paintings. He remained poor but many great painters of the day; including John Flaxman,
George Cumberland, and Thomas Stothard befriended him. Another friendship that Blake
formed at this time, in spite of his growing dislike of the clergy, was with the Reverend
Henry Mathew and his wife, who provided him with financial assistance to set up his print-
shop. Blake was shattered by the death of his younger brother Robert, who died of
consumption in 1787. He claimed that he continued to converse with and was inspired by his
dead brother’s spirit.
In 1787, the Blakes moved to Holland Street where they lived for five years. Blake
devoted his time to the activities he loved – writing poetry, making sketches, engraving and
composing music. He wrote and illustrated “The Book of Thel” and Songs of Innocence,
using a method of his own invention, called illuminated printing.
About this time began the association of Blake with the Swedenborgians. The Blakes
became members of the New Church. In 1789, the year which marked the outbreak of the
French Revolution, Blake began to spend a great deal of time in the company of the greatest
revolutionaries of the day; Thomas Paine, Henry Fuseli, and Joseph Johnson. He wrote books
on both the American and French Revolutions.
Blake was living in Lambeth, struggling to eke out a meagre existence when, in 1800, his
second patron, William Hayley offered him accommodation at his cottage in Felpham on the
Sussex coast. It was a welcome change for Blake who found it “a sweet place to study,
because it is more spiritual than London. Heaven opens here on all sides here golden gales...”
In 1803, the Blakes moved back to London where he lived for twenty-four years. Blake’s
misfortunes increased and his genius was not easily recognized. Leigh Hunt attacked Blake’s
designs, while his brother Robert Hunt attacked him on personal grounds and described him
as “an unfortunate lunatic whose personal inoffensiveness secures him from confinement.”
Blake’s later years were brighter for the friendship of a group of artists – John Linnell,
Samuel Palmer, John Varley and their set - who called themselves the Ancients and Blake’s
two rooms at Fountain Court the Interpreter’s House. Two years before Blake’s death, Henry
Crabb Robinson wrote this of him: “Shall I call him Artist or Genius, or Mystic or Madman?
Probably he is all.” Blake died on 12 August 1827 and was buried in Bunhill Fields, in a
common grave which has not been located.
1.3 Blake’s Thought
In order to understand the poetry of Blake it is essential to study his thought. Blake has been
variously labelled a visionary, a mystic, and a prophet. But none of these terms will suffice to
define the unique nature and profundity of his thought. He was a daring and original thinker
who strove to arrive at a vision of truth. The key word to an understanding of Blake’s poetry
and thought is “vision.” His poetry is a visionary interpretation of life.
Blake was a man of vision who thought he had found the original, ineffable secret. He
was a mystic, but not a mystic in the traditional sense of the term. There is some resemblance
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between Blake and the English poets Thomas Traherne and Henry Vaughan; who belonged to
the tradition of mystics who experienced mystic trances and, in ecstatic supersensory
moments, beheld the Beatific Vision of God. For Blake, it was a quality that he experienced
daily in life; he possessed a special vision, the “double vision.” He saw with the inner eye,
with a kind of mental illumination which enabled him to behold the ultimate truth. He
attempted to explore that region of the human mind which became the region of Eternal
Worlds. He said, “I rest not from my great task! /To open the Eternal Worlds/ To open the
immortal Eyes of Man / Inwards into the Worlds of Thought /Into Eternity.”
This was Blake’s task; to record in his poetry, this experience of the Eternal and to
communicate it to all men so that they too may develop their faculty of vision, understand,
and through understanding, learn to act rightly- in love and mutual forgiveness.
To present his world-view Blake invented a set of symbols as he could not find
satisfaction in any established system. Blake is startlingly modern in his creation of a set of
private symbols and a forerunner of W.B. Yeats, who also invented an elaborate system of
private myths and symbols. Blake valued, above all else, the creative power of the
imagination which helped him to create his own system: “I must create a system or be
enslaved by another man’s.”
Blake’s complicated system of symbols is not a consistent one. This has led to confusion
and bewildered many readers. His symbols are derived from old English myths and folklore.
There are elemental figures embodying thought and meaning. The four main figures are
Urizen (Reason), Los (Imagination), Luvah (Passion), and Tharmas (Instincts).
Blake was an erudite scholar. His reading included the works of the mystics Emanuel
Swedenborg and Jacob Boehme; the philosophy of Locke, Hume, Berkeley and, above all,
the Holy Bible. Though Blake’s works are permeated with Christian doctrine and Christian
symbols, Blake is not a traditional Christian; his beliefs at times verge on heresy.
In the first place, Blake makes a clear distinction between the God of the Old Testament,
Jehovah, and the God of the New Testament, Jesus Christ. In his abhorrence of
institutionalized religion, Blake identifies Jehovah with Urizen - the false God of Reason,
who is responsible for the divisions in man. He is “a jealous God enmeshing man in nets of
religion and priestcraft.” (Grierson) His other attributes are intolerance and over-zealousness
in safe-guarding his own authority. He is not a loving Father, but a Nobodaddy, a clock-work
God in a clock-work universe. Blake constantly denounces eighteenth-century rationalism
and logical empiricism. He blames the analytics of Newton and the skepticism of Voltaire for
the elevation of cold, abstract Reason.
Opposed to Urizen is Los or Imagination, who Blake identifies with Jesus Christ. Blake
had learnt from Jacob Boehme that Imagination is the first Emanation of Divinity. Christ is
the Poetic Genius who dictates words of eternal salvation to poets like Blake. Blake wrote
that “the Eternal Body of Man is the Imagination, God Himself, the Divine Body-Jesus
Christ.”

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 Christ is incarnate within the mind of man. Blake did not believe in a God who was
wholly the other, a God who was out there but in an immanent God, the Godhead within man.
The Divine Imagination in man gives rise to intuition, “spiritual sensations,” and teaches man
that “Thou also dwellest in Eternity. God is no more. Thine own humanity learn to adore.”
The cardinal sin for Blake is “hindering;” whether it is an attempt to hinder oneself or
another, to hinder one’s Energies, natural feelings or instincts. “Murder is Hindering Another.
Theft is Hindering Another. Backbiting, Undermining, Circumventing and whatever is
Negative is Vice.” Urizen/Jehovah, with his iron book of laws and prohibitions, is responsible
for “hindering.” Urizen, with his jealousy, cruelty, secrecy, hatred of life and joy has been
created by men out of their own vices. Urizen must be overthrown. For Blake expression is
good, repression is evil.
Blake was very conscious of his role as a Poet-Prophet or Bard. “Mark well my words!
They are for your eternal salvation . . . I am inspired. I know it is truth! I sing according to the
inspiration of the Poetic Genius who is eternal all-protecting Divine Humanity.” (Christ)
Blake, the poet, is the intermediary between God and Man. He reveals the words of God to
men, sleepers in the land of shadows. He proclaims God’s plan for the future. “Hear the
Voice of the Bard . . .” What the Bard has to offer to man is the abundant life. The final
consummation, the regeneration of Man will take place when, after having listened to the
poet, the human spirit is renewed and the human soul re-integrated. In conclusion, Blake may
be said to have fulfilled his aim in writing poetry, “the nature of my work is visionary and
imaginative, it is an endeavour to restore what the Ancients called the Golden Age.”
1.4 A Note on Blake and Nature
Blake was a Pre-Romantic poet standing mid-way between the Augustan poets; Dryden,
Pope, and Johnson, and the Romantic poets; Wordsworth, Coleridge, Shelley, and Keats. For
the eighteenth-century poets, nature meant human nature; studied against a background of
drawing rooms, coffee-houses, or trimmed gardens. For the Romantics, Nature was all in all.
They, especially Wordsworth with his Pantheism, established a creed of Nature-worship.
Although Blake and the other forerunners of the Romantic Revival - Goldsmith, Collins,
and Cowper, broke with eighteenth century traditions, they did not advocate the “Return to
Nature” evident in Romantic poetry. They were at an early stage in the development of a new
awareness of Nature. They merely present the outward aspects of Nature. But there is already
a shift in perspective - the aspects highlighted are the wild, picturesque, remote, or splendid
aspects of Nature.
Although Blake spent most of his life in London, he was familiar with and enjoyed the
beauties of the country-side. He appreciated the fresh, green fields of rural England but was
aware of the horrors inflicted on the countryside by the Industrial Revolution. He witnessed
both “a pastoral heaven” and “a hell of dark, satanic mills.”
It is characteristic of his whole philosophy that he took both into account. A less
courageous soul might well have hated the city and loved the fields, or like Dr.
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 Johnson, loved the coffee-houses and shrunk from the solitudes of nature. Blake
felt with full intensity the martyrdom of the toiling, suffering humanity of
London, and he loved fields, green mountains, summer trees, but he saw the
human spirit at work alike amid the furnaces of hell and the fountains of
paradise. He desired to see a ‘marriage of heaven and hell’ and for him, the
innocence of pastoral man did not seem lost in the satanic mills. The hell of
experience is, for Blake, only the turning of the Wheel of life. The indestructible
purity of the human spirit returns, at the end of the circle of destiny, to its
original innocence again; the furnaces of the fallen world become once more the
fountains of Eden. It seems likely that much of Blake’s vision of a reconciliation
of two contraries – of good and evil, innocence and experience - arose out of his
own early memories of city squalor and suffering, side by side with the world of
hay-fields and harvesters under the hedgerow elms of Kent on the south bank of
the Thames. (Kathleen Raine)
Appreciative as Blake was of the beauties of the natural world, it was not his duty to
enhance the readers’ appreciation of it as Keats, for example, did in his “Ode to Autumn.”
Blake’s approach was to see the symbol first and then the natural object, the reverse of
Wordsworth’s approach.
Blake’s believed that “Natural objects always did and do now weaken, deaden and
obliterate Imagination in Me.” Blake was not concerned with the world of outward senses. He
apprehended the world through the mind, the Imagination. The trees that Blake drew did not
exist in Nature; the Poison Tree or the Tree of Mystery bearing fruits of Deceit. Blake was
concerned with the world of external nature only insofar as it could provide symbols for the
world within the mind of man. In his poems, the sun-flower represents the desire of youth for
love and freedom, the lily stands for the purity of love, and the sick rose is symbolic of
human beings attacked by evil, destructive forces.
The world that Blake’s characters inhabit is not the world of nature, but a world of their
own making, which exists in their own minds. The carefree joy of a child who delights in the
flowers, the birds, and the streams is but a reflection of the joy in its own heart.
1.5 Blake’s Poetry
Blake’s first book of verse, Poetical Sketches (1783), is written partly in imitation of
Shakespeare, the Elizabeth song-writers, and Spenser. This collection includes the well-
known lyrics “My Silks and Fine Array” and “How Sweet I Roam’d from Field to Field.”
These poems have neither the exquisite lyrical quality of the Songs of Innocence and
Experience nor their originality, yet there is present in them a quality of “unreality” which is
typical of Blake and which marks the advent of a new poetic era.
In the Songs of Innocence (1789), Blake recaptured the innocence and joy of childhood.
Through visionary insight, Blake discovered that the sense of freedom and happiness he
experienced as an adult corresponded to the condition of childhood, which was a state of

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innocence, happiness, and primal unity. Blake uses simple language and the verse forms are
akin to the jingle, the nursery-rhyme, the ballad, and hymns for children. The setting is
pastoral and the imagery conventional; drawn mainly from the Bible. The vision of the world
that Blake presents is that of the child-a world of joy, peace, love, purity, happiness, and
security. The poems echo with the happy, carefree laughter of children.
The Songs of Experience (1794) present an altogether different world. Blake raises his
voice in protest against the evils that he saw in society. He vehemently attacks the Church,
priestcraft, kingship, and the state - all that fetters the free mind of man. Blake writes with
passion, anger, and indignation but there is compassion as well, for poor children exploited
by a hardened society. His anger is directed especially against priests and their agents who
are symbolized as ravens, serpents, worms, and caterpillars; the imagery is of sickness and
disease. As Northrop Frye said “Contempt and horror have never spoken more clearly in
English poetry.”
There is a pervasive mood of fear. Fear and hatred, hypocrisy and selfishness have
entered the hearts of men with the worship of the false God Urizen, of the false religion,
Mystery. The free and innocent love of the Songs of Innocence is turned into cankerous
selfishness, which tries “to build a Hell in Heaven’s Despite.” Among the powerful poems of
Experience is ‘The Garden of Love,’ which has “Thou shalt not” written on the chapel door.
Such prohibitions lead to guilt, misery, and despair. In place of the benevolent guardians of
the Songs of Innocence there are hostile adults, nurses, priests, and howling animals of prey.
The poems in Songs of Experience are characterized by disillusionment. Blake was
appalled by man’s inhumanity to man and his revolutionary ardour quelled by the excesses of
the French Revolution. But Blake is not a mere social reformer. His aim in the Songs is to
present the contraries of the human soul; contraries which are an inalienable part of human
existence: “Without contraries is no progression. Attraction and Repulsion, Reason and
Energy, Love and Hate are necessary for human existence.” When the contraries are resolved
through Vision and Imagination, the soul is re-integrated. The Songs begin with delight and
end in wisdom.
The Marriage of Heaven and Hell (1790), written at the same time as the Songs of
Innocence is a satire. Written mainly in prose, in the form of aphorisms and proverbs, it deals
with “what religions call Good and Evil.” Blake points out that Good has come to be equated
with a conventional code of morality and Evil as working in opposition to it. But for Blake,
Evil is Energy (it is not a negative quality) and “Energy is Eternal Delight.” Both Good and
Evil are necessary, they are complementary. The true dualism is not between Good and Evil
but between Wisdom and Folly, not Body and Soul but Energy and Reason. It is the mind, the
Imagination, which is of importance. The purified mind will be able to perceive the infinite in
everything;
To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And Heaven in a Wild Flower

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 Hold Infinity in the Palm of your Hand
And Eternity in an hour.
(From “Auguries of Innocence”)
“The Song of Liberty” with which The Marriage ends is a short prose-poem of
revolution; it is an appeal to the nations to cast off their bondage - political, moral, and
religious.
Blake wrote two symbolic books Tiriel and The Book of Thel (1789). In Tiriel
(unpublished) he exposes the folly of substituting the restrictions of law for the freedom of
the imagination. The Book of Thel is a lyrical narrative, in which Blake deals with the theory
of pre-existence, making use of Greek myths and symbols. The virgin Thel is afraid as she
gazes from her abode of Innocence into the World of Generation. To be born into this world;
of division, terror, and strife, would be death for her and she flees back to her original home.
It is an allegory of a pre-existent soul refusing to enter into the grave of earthly life.
Blake’s symbolic or prophetic works have proved to be a stumbling-block for many who
otherwise understood and appreciated his poetry. They were incomprehensible to most of his
contemporaries. In the early nineties, Blake spent a good deal of time in the company of
revolutionaries. Thomas Paine was one of his friends. Having witnessed two revolutions, the
American War of Independence and the French Revolution, Blake set about writing three
social prophecies: The French Revolution (1791), America a Prophecy (1793), and Europe a
Prophecy (1794). They are a mixture of history, drama, and allegory and constitute an
impassioned plea to men to cast off their shackles and be emancipated. Blake attacks
materialism, the Church, the State, the Pope, and current Christianity; as opposed to true
Christianity.
In Visions of the Daughters of Albion (1793), Blake deals with the miseries of loveless
but indissoluble marriage and enforced chastity. He criticizes marriage-laws on account of
which a man and a woman may remain trapped in a love-less marriage. This work is
understood to be a declaration of belief in the purity of the instincts, the evils of repression,
and even as a plea for free love.
In the Prophetic books: The First Book of Urizen (1794), The Book of Ahania (1795),
The Book of Los (1795), The Song of Los (1795), and The Four Zoas (unpublished), Blake
passes from history to mythology, from Time to Eternity, using the familiar story of the war
among the gods. Blake retells the story of the divisions in man caused by the warring
elements in him; Mind, Body, Heart, and Spirit. He calls them Urizen (reason), Tharmas
(Instinct), Luvah (Emotion), and Los (Imagination). Blake believed that man can be fully re-
integrated and return to his true home, Eternity, only after the contraries or different forces in
him have been re-unified in a perfect balance, and this is possible only through the power of
Vision and Imagination. The forces responsible for hindering man’s progress are
conventional morality, Church, State, and other man-made institutions.

12
 The mythology of Blake’s later prophecies; Milton (1804-1810), and Jerusalem (1804-
1820) is based on Christianity or rather, Blake’s version of Christianity. Man is no longer at
war with external forces but is divided against himself. Vision or Imagination can assist him
regain his primal identity. Imagination which was formerly Los, is now clearly discernible as
the Divine Imagination, Jesus Christ. Blake, the Poet-Prophet, has finally achieved what he
set out to do; pierced the mystery of existence. He wishes to share his knowledge with all
men. In his preface to Milton, he had appended the words; “Would to God that all the Lord’s
people were Prophets.” (Numbers 9:19) He has taught men, through his poetic faith, how to
re-build Jerusalem “in England’s green and pleasant land.”
The cycle of life is complete. Blake has passed from a state of innocence, through the
dark night of experience, into a higher state of organized innocence. It is a hard-won fight
against self-hood, self-sufficiency, and codified law; victory over which, leads to the realm of
spiritual truth. Blake’s poetry ultimately illustrates the teaching of Jesus in the Sermon on the
Mount - love, kindness, and the mutual forgiveness of sins among men.
1.6 Songs of Innocence and Experience: An Assessment
Blake published the Songs of Innocence in 1789, the year of the French Revolution, using a
process of his own invention known as “Illuminated Printing.” He claimed that the secret of
this process was revealed to him by his dead brother in a vision. In 1794, he reissued the
volume together with the Songs of Experience to form a single book, Songs of Innocence and
Experience Showing Two Contrary States of the Human Soul.
The Songs are Blake’s unique contribution to English poetry. The appeal of the Songs
lies in the simplicity of their pattern and diction, and in their pure lyricism. Echoes of the
Spenserian and Shakespearian lyric, evident in the early Poetical Sketches may still be heard
in the Songs; in their spontaneity and gaiety, their lightness and melody. But the subject
matter of Blake’s Songs is of a far more serious nature and critics have found complexities of
meaning in what otherwise appear to be simple, charming lyrics. Blake may perhaps be
credited with having produced a new genre, the “serious lyric.”
Blakes Songs are linked, however tenuous the link may be, to a form of poetry popular in
the eighteenth century; poems and hymns for children, particularly Isaac Watts’ Divine Songs
Attempted in Easy language for the Use of Children. However, the similarities are confined to
the framework of the hymns. Both in form and content, Blake’s Songs are remote from those
of other hymn writers; Isaac Watts, William Cowper, or Anna Barbauld; with their
sentimental notions of piety and their rather complacent, at times even uncharitable,
moralizing. Similarly, though Blake used the pastoral form, his Songs have a more serious
intent than pretty pastoral poems do.
The vital element in Blake’s poetry is the visionary clement and the Songs are a
visionary interpretation of life. Blake said, “The Nature of my work is Visionary or
Imaginative,” “it is an Endeavour to Restore what the Ancients called the Golden Age.” As
Northrop Frye says, “By vision he meant the view of the world, not as it might be, still less as

13
it ordinarily appears, but as it really is when it is seen by human consciousness at its greatest
height and intensity.” Blake’s understanding and evaluation of human experience in the
Songs are illustrative of this statement.
Joseph Wickstead says that Blake, when he wrote the Songs, possessed a double vision;
“Blake saw all things two-fold. If the Soul had its contrary states, words and images had their
secondary and deeper meaning . . .” Blake’s imaginative vision helped him to see, not with,
but through the eye. To him a tree appeared, not only a tree but as a paradise of angels.
A cardinal feature of Blake’s poetry is his use of symbols. The symbols of the Songs are
easily intelligible. The lamb, the Lamb of God, the Good Shepherd, and the Guardian Angel
are all drawn from the Bible; particularly the Twenty-third Psalm and the New Testament.
They give substance to Blake’s sacramental view of life.
Raymond Lister refers to the Songs of Innocence as “happy evocations of childhood.”
Blake’s purpose is not limited to presenting pictures of childhood or describing various stages
in the cycle of life. Grierson considers Blake’s poetry “a reading of life and death, Heaven
and Hell, that should harmonize the painful antinomies of life, the contrast between the
innocence, joy, and confidence, seen in the child and the irrational sense of guilt, the haunting
sorrow, the cramping inhibitions of adolescence and maturity.” Blake viewed with anguish,
the sufferings of human beings and their futile attempts to reconcile the reality of suffering
with the concept of a God of love. Blakes’ Songs are a statement of this problem, which he
undertook to solve in the Prophetic Books.
Robert F. Gleckner finds Blake’s method in the Songs simple;
. . . its roots lying in his concept of states and their symbols. Like many other
artists Blake employed a central group of related symbols to form a dominant
symbolic pattern; his are the child, the father and Christ, representing the states
of innocence, experience and a higher innocence!
C.M. Bowra considers Songs of Innocence and Songs of Experience as “contrasted
elements in a single design. The first sets out an imaginative vision of the state of innocence,
the second shows how life challenges and corrupts and destroys it.” For Blake, childhood is
both an actual state and a spiritual state. It is a symbol of a state of soul, which may be found
not only in childhood but also in maturity. The qualities of this spiritual condition are
innocence, joy, and trust;
For him all human beings are in some sense and at some times the children of a
divine father but experience destroys their innocence and makes them fellow
specters and illusions. Blake does not write at a distance of time from memories
of what childhood once was, but from an insistent present anguish at the ugly
contrasts between the childlike and the experienced conceptions of reality.
(C.M. Bowra)

14
 Blake believed that human beings can redeem themselves only through the imagination.
For him “Imagination is the Human Eternal Body in Every Man. Imagination is the Divine
Body in Every Man.” For Blake, God, in the person of Jesus Christ, and the Imagination are
one. In other words, God is the creative and spiritual power in man; the divine essence which
exists potentially in every human being.
In the Songs of Innocence, Blake extols the divine qualities present in man - Mercy, Pity,
Peace, and Love. (“The Divine Image”) These qualities are debased in the state of
experience; especially love, which becomes selfish and possessive. Blake realized that the
state of Experience, where man becomes aware of the sordid realities of life is an essential
stage in the cycle of being. As C. M. Bowra writes;
Blake knew that experience is bought at a bitter price, not merely in such
unimportant things as comfort and peace of mind but in the highest spiritual
values. His Songs of Experience are the poetry of this process. They tell us how
what we accept in childlike innocence is tested and proved feeble by actual
events, how much we have taken for granted is not true of the living world, how
every noble desire many be debased and perverted. When he sings of this
process, he is no longer the piper of pleasant glee, but an angry, passionate rebel.
Blake’s Songs of Innocence are therefore “mild and gentle” and his Songs of Experience,
“terrific numbers” sung by the Poet-Prophet. After exploring the states of innocence and
experience, Blake was still unable to find full and exhaustive answers. In the Songs of
Innocence and Experience he has studied the human crisis; man’s predicament in a hostile
and seemingly meaningless universe.
The consummation is yet to come, it is only hinted at, but the road is open to a state of
higher, organized innocence; “Innocence that dwelleth with wisdom, never with ignorance.”
As yet there is only religious affirmation and acceptance. Blake can accept Experience as a
state of purgation, from which one may emerge with a clearer perception of life, of the
interconnected contraries that give meaning to life. The unified soul which undergoes
division may be re-integrated through imagination; through passion, power and energy.
Blake’s conclusions are phrased in Christian terminology, though not necessarily
traditional Christian terminology. His gospel is the gospel of liberty, his creed the
brotherhood of man. Blake rejects the prohibitions of a tradition-ridden priesthood; the “Thou
Shall not . . .” of Jehovah; the angry, jealous, selfish God. Blake believed that Christ came
into the world not so much as to atone for the sins of mankind but to offer a new law of
freedom, love and the mutual forgiveness of sins; “Mutual Forgiveness of Each Vice/ Such
are the Gates of Paradise.” To enter the gates of Paradise one has to become a little child –
“Except ye be converted and become as little children ye shall not enter into the kingdom of
heaven.”

15
2. Study Guide: Songs of Innocence and Experience
2.1 Songs of Innocence
i) “Introduction”
Blake’s Songs of Innocence follow the pastoral convention; with its highly idealized pictures
of shepherds, streams, and timid animals. Here, Blake uses the convention for a different
purpose; to give an insight into childhood, and “one state of the human soul.” Two of the
images that recur in the poems are introduced here - the child as a symbol of inspiration and
the lamb as a symbol of Christ. In the eighteenth century, the child was regarded as a
miniature adult but, for Blake, the child represents innocence, joy, and security.
This poem serves an introductory purpose since the poet indicates the nature of his
inspiration and tells the reader how the poems came to be written, what they are about, and to
whom they will bring joy. The style and language of this poem - its simplicity of diction,
repetition of phrases, and clarity of tone - are characteristic of all the poems that follow.
In symbolic terms, the child is identified with Christ, and also with the lamb; which is
also the Lamb of God. Christ is both child (with all its associations of innocence as well as
childlike wisdom) and man. The child, along with its child-like qualities, is linked closely to
the Piper. Watching over all this is the ever-present guardian, the Shepherd-Christ.
The poet claims for himself an inspirational and divine role. He is the shepherd-poet
prophet who writes his poems with a “rural pen.” The poem becomes, to some extent, an
account of the inspired and creative activity involved in writing poetry. It is also an attempt to
enable every child and every human being, who possesses a childlike nature, to participate in
the joy of the child in the cloud.
Study Notes
3 on a cloud: suggestive of a child’s dream-like world, a happy and carefree world.
8 he wept to hear: in The Marriage of Heaven and Hell, Blake said “Excess of sorrow
laughs, Excess of joy weeps.”
13 - 14 write/ In a book that all may read: the songs should be written down and preserved
forever. There is a verbal echo of Revelation 14, where the Apostle John writes of those
“who follow the Lamb whither–soever he goeth.” John was commanded to “Write down
thy vision of what now is.”
15 vanish’d from my sight: suggests the passing of moments of vision. Blake believed that
poetry was a product of inspiration, that is transitory. The piper is like the poet himself.
18 stain’d the water clear: presumably, to make ink for his “rural pen.”
19 happy songs: a line of prophecy. Every child will experience the divine and prophetic
joy, which now fills the child on the cloud.

16
Critical Analysis
The “Introduction” sets the tone for the poems in the Songs of Innocence. Sung by the Piper,
it is about the nature of poetic inspiration. Blake believed that poetry is a product of divine
inspiration and, in this context, the child who orders the Piper to write poems for children is a
symbol of the divine imagination in man. The child’s choice of subject matter is significant;
he wants to hear about a lamb (symbolizing Jesus). Note that the child appears on a cloud,
who comes like an angelic messenger. The child is a symbol of the poetic inspiration- it is
fleeting and transitory; the child’s disappearance is as sudden.
The poem is “a perfect introduction, with its themes of piping, laughter, and tears; which
moves from the near Pagan glee of the opening lines to the Christian joy of its last line. The
book itself carries throughout a similar pattern: an apparent simplicity of surface-structure,
often expressed in a bitter-sweetness at once close to joy and sadness; that clothes a deep
underlying symbolism.” (Raymond Lister)
Check your progress
i) Who is the narrator of the poem?
ii) What does the child symbolize in this poem?
ii) “The Lamb”
Introduction
The lamb is a symbol of innocence in The Songs of Innocence and the tiger, in the Songs of
Experience, a symbol of experience. Since the two contrary states of the soul are not
completely independent and often coexist, it has become customary to read the poems
together and contrast them. However, it is better to read the two poems independently, as the
poet desires us to do. The lamb symbolizes all that is gentle, meek, and innocent; as the infant
Jesus. For Blake, Innocence is a state of mind and Experience crucifies this state of mind.
The poem “The Lamb” celebrates this state of mind and the speaker is totally unaware of
his/her future or its corruption at the hands of Experience.
In the “Introduction,” the child on the cloud asks the piper to “Pipe a song about a
Lamb.” He then commands him to sing the song. The child on the cloud appreciates the
music and weeps with joy. In a childlike, peremptory manner he orders the piper to write
down the poems and vanishes. We can assume that the poem “The Lamb” is written by the
piper/poet in the “Introduction.”
Although the lamb is a recurring symbol in many poems, it stands for different things in
each poem. The lamb in this poem is not the lamb imagined by the speaker in “The Little
Black Boy,” joyfully dancing round the tent of God, in the other world. There, the lamb in
heaven is a consolation or a comfort for the suffering innocents. It is not the idyllic or the
innocent lamb of the poem “Night,” where the lion and the lamb live together. The lamb in
this poem is a real lamb and the speaker, an innocent child, believes that it is a symbol of
Christ. It is this child-like faith that Blake equates with a state of Innocence.
17
Study Notes
2 Dost thou know: old English for ‘Do you know?’
4 mead: short for meadow.
5 clothing of delight: soft, virgin wool, a pleasure to watch, feel and wear.
8 vales: valleys.
13 For he calls himself a Lamb: in the Gospel of John, it is John the Baptist who gave Jesus
the title Lamb of God; “the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.” The
imagery of Jesus as a lamb originated in Old Testament descriptions of the suffering
servant of God.
16 He became a little child: a reference to the belief in the incarnation of God the Son as
Jesus Christ.
18 We are called by his name: we are known as Christians, followers of Christ.
Critical Analysis
In this poem, the child questions the lamb about its origins. The questions are rhetorical: it’s
not as if the child doesn’t know the answers but s/he is reaffirming her/his faith in Jesus
Christ. By doing so, s/he is able to remind the lamb about God; the Father, the Creator, and
the watchful Shepherd. S/he reminds the lamb of God’s bountiful goodness– the gift of life,
warm and protective clothing, and a pleasant bleat.
This poem, steeped in Christian doctrine, passes from the image of the Good Shepherd
(the Shepherd of the parable of the lost sheep) to the great paradox of Christianity; that God
himself took on a human form and dwelt on earth as man – as gentle, meek, and mild as a
lamb. Blake’s emphasis in this poem is not on Christ the man but on Christ the child – the
infant Jesus. The child, the lamb, and Christ are unified in a sacramental view of life.
The world presented in this poem is one of joy, innocence, and meekness; a world as yet
untainted by suffering and pain. And the God of this universe is an immanent, not
transcendent God. He becomes the Good Shepherd, who lays down his life for his sheep. He
is also led as a sheep to the slaughter; a reference to the crucifixion of Jesus Christ.
The child’s unquestioning acceptance of Christ as a lamb is to be noted. In this beautiful
little hymn, Blake would like us to appreciate the ability of the child to see the outside world
in terms of Christian symbols. It is an intuitive, rather than rational approach to life.
Check your progress
i) Who is the narrator in this poem?
ii) Mention some of the Christian symbols used in this poem.
iii) Explain the line: ‘He became a little child.’

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iii) “The Chimney Sweeper”
Introduction
The poem was published in 1789 and at that time it was common for little boys, and
sometimes girls, as young as six years old, to be employed as chimney sweeps. They were
usually little children sold off by their poor parents or orphans from the workhouses;
apprenticed to adults known as master sweeps, who were paid by the parish to train these
children. The chimneys in the houses had very narrow flues and they required regular
cleaning of soot deposits so that fires could burn efficiently. Because the chimneys were very
narrow (the standard size was 14x9 inches) and angular, little boys were made to crawl up the
chimneys; pushing themselves up with their knees and elbows to clean the soot with their
brushes. They were not paid money for their labour, only food and lodging were provided.
They slept on the same sacks they used to collect soot, got up around 3 a.m., bathed around
once a week, and had only one holiday in the year. Working and living in such horrific
conditions; many of these little children suffered from cancer, died of suffocation or burns,
and were ill-treated. They wore black clothes and would go around the streets, calling out
“Sweep’ sweep” to let people know that they were around. Blake was distressed to see the
condition of the sweeps and, as he does in many of his poems, he connects the social problem
to the spiritual malaise in society. If you search on the internet, you can see old photographs
of chimney sweepers in Europe.
There were humanitarian concerns about little boys being forced to climb chimneys
resulting in inadequate laws. In one such influential book, Jonas Hanway’s A Sentimental
History of Chimney Sweeps, published in 1785, the author advocates opening of Sunday
schools to teach the chimney sweepers about Christianity; “. . . in Sunday schools, young
chimney sweepers are collected and taught their duty instead of permitted to loiter and
indulge in vice.” But Blake’s poem raises wider political issues of exploitation and
indoctrination. The Angel in “The Chimney Sweeper” represents the way in which organized
religion and the Church exploit the poor children and offer them religious teachings to
maintain discipline. It was not until 1875, that a bill was passed in the British parliament to
put an end to this inhuman practice.
The narrator in the poem is a little sweeper and the central event from which the moral is
drawn is a dream. The dream is only an illusory comfort; like the golden lambs dancing
round the tent of God in “The Little Black Boy.” Blake here is protesting the exploitation of
the impoverished or deprived class by the ethical dogmas of the dominant class. Blake hated
this kind of Christianity and its Church and the morality imposed by it. The illusory comfort
which the angel inspires in Tom Dacre’s dream is not freedom, but a kind of prison to
manipulate the child to be a good boy and continue doing his duty in a disciplined manner.
Such religious preaching persuades innocent, deprived humanity into submission and passive
acceptance of suffering.

19
Study Notes
3 ‘weep! ‘weep!’: the young child’s pronunciation of the word sweep. Ironically, it sounds
like a cry of pain.
4 soot: a black powder, composed mainly of carbon, produced when coal or wood is
burned. The little boys were made to collect it in sacks, as it could be sold for use a
fertilizer.
5 Tom Dacre: another chimney sweeper, who works with the speaker.
6 like a lamb’s back: the simile of the lamb recurs frequently in Blake’s poetry. Here, the
shaving of Tom’s hair is connected to the image of Jesus as the sacrificial lamb.
6 was shaved: the little chimney sweeps were forced to get their heads shaved to prevent
the soot from sticking to it when they climbed up the chimneys.
8 white hair: for Blake, white symbolizes innocence and purity.
10 had such a sight: the dream that Tom Dacre has.
11 thousands of sweepers: a disturbing image. In London alone, at the time this poem was
written, there were a thousand boys working as sweeps.
12 coffins of black: the narrow and dark chimneys the little boys climb up resemble the
inside of coffins. An ironic comment on their death-like existence.
13 by came an Angel who had a bright key: the Angel is a messenger of God and the key is
an apparent reference to death; death as deliverance.
16 wash in a river: once a week or so, the little chimney sweeps were taken to the river and
allowed to wash and play. This was, perhaps, the most pleasant part of their difficult
lives. That is why Tom Dacre’s dream is a recreation of that experience.
17 their bags left behind: in terms of dream symbolism, it could be freedom from their
punishing work. The bags hold their cleaning brushes.
21 rose in the dark: the little boys would begin work before dawn as people would get their
chimneys cleaned after the fires had burnt all night.
A Critical Study
The opening lines of the poem are dramatic. The chimney-sweep narrates his poignant story
in a matter-of-fact tone; almost an understatement. Blake presents a Dickensian situation of
squalor and suffering. The presentation is all the more compelling because Blake avoids
cynicism and bitter irony. He is even able to transform the suffering of the child to a spiritual
triumph, by equating it with the quiet and unresisting suffering of Christ – the meek and mild
Lamb of God. Blake shocks the reader by the manner in which the child recounts the death of
his mother and the cruel manner in which his father sold him when he was still a young child.
There is horror in the spectacle of the child sleeping, on a cold winter night, on a bed of soot.

20
 In the second stanza, the main actor in the drama, Tom Dacre is introduced. Tom was
deeply distressed when his fair hair was shorn. It was customary to shave the hair of chimney
sweeps to prevent it from catching soot. There is an obvious reference here to the Prophet
Isaiah’s description of Christ as a lamb before its shearers. Tom was inconsolable till his
friend offered him words of spiritual comfort. The little chimney-sweep, himself a sufferer
becomes the guardian of Tom Dacre. That night Tom had a dream that he, along with
thousands of chimney-sweeps, was released from earthly bondage and led into the presence
of God. The moral of the poem is uttered by the Angel-that if Tom were a good boy and did
his work, he would not lack joy. When Tom awoke the next morning, he was comforted by
the thought that if he did his duty he would come to no harm.
Into the world of innocence, Blake introduces distress, sorrow, and care. But the miseries
of the world are transcended by Tom Dacre’s dream of a visionary existence beyond the
skies, in Heaven, which he will attain after having been washed clean in the River which
forms the boundary between Life and Death and on the far shore of which stands God, the
Father, waiting to comfort His children. This vision which has descended on Tom like Grace,
warms his heart and fills it with hope and joy. He is convinced that the ills of the world can
be borne, if they are but a prelude to the joys of Heaven. This is evidence of the inner purity
of the children which cannot be destroyed by outward circumstances.
Even though Blake fills the heart of chimney-sweep with Pity, Mercy, and Love which
constitute the “human form divine,” he cannot refrain from indicating that the words of
consolation spoken by the chimney-sweep are words of cold comfort; “So if all do their duty
they need not fear harm.” There is scathing criticism implied here- the irony is that all are not
doing their duty. The little chimney sweeper himself is unaware of the irony in his words.
Blake is sharply critical of the work-ethic preached by the ministers of the Church and
supported by the upper classes, the vested interests of the day, that every calling is a vocation;
a divine calling, howsoever humble it may be. Blake is voicing his protest against the
injustices inherent in a hardened society which can thrive only at the expense of the poor,
who have no other choice but to remain entrenched in the lowest stratum of society.
Check your progress
i) Who is the narrator of this poem?
ii) Why is little Tom Dacre upset? Describe his dream?
iii) What does the Angel tell Tom?
iv) Explain why the last line of the poem is ironical?
iv) “The Little Black Boy”
Introduction
It is estimated that, between 1700-1807, Britain transported three million slaves across the
Atlantic and benefitted immensely from the slave trade. Blake was a firm advocate of racial
equality and he was angry and agonized to see Blacks working as slaves in the homes of rich
21
Londoners. Slavery was legal at the time this poem was published, in 1788. Blake was friends
with many members of the Committee for the Effecting of the Abolition of Slave Trade, that
was founded in 1787. His engraving, “Group of Negroes, as imported to be sold for slaves,”
(1796) was reproduced in numerous anti-slavery publications, books, tin boxes, and ceramic
plates. (vam.ac.uk/content/articles/i/images-of-slavery-and-abolitionism/) However, it was
not till 1807, that the Slave Trade Act put an end to international slave trade.
Like the preceding poem you have studied, “The Chimney Sweeper,” this poem is also
sung by a little child; most probably the child of a slave woman in some household. Like the
little chimney sweeper Tom Dacre, the little Black boy is comforted by his mother’s spiritual
teachings. This enables him to find solace in the belief in a better after-life.
As in most of the poems in Songs of Innocence, this poem is steeped in Christian symbols
and beliefs. Moreover, social ills are linked to the inability or refusal of society and followers
of Christianity to interpret its basic tenets of compassion and love in their true spirit. Read the
poem carefully, paying special attention to the Black mother’s words of comfort.
Study Notes
On the difference between ‘Black’ and ‘black’
You may have observed that though Blake uses the word ‘black’ in the poem without
capitalizing the first letter, in this study material the word is used with a capital ‘B’. It is
politically incorrect to use ‘black’ to describe people of African origin as it would identify
them by the colour of their skin. Remember to always capitalize the ‘B’ when referring to
people of African descent as a racial group. In an attempt to use language that is racially
sensitive, we should follow contemporary practice. So, black would be an indicator of colour
and ‘Black’ of race.
1 southern wild: a general reference to Africa. Black people were purchased by European
traders and brought back to be sold off as slaves.
2 but O! my soul is white: the boy has internalized the belief that it is better to be white
because he has observed that white people are more privileged. So, he consoles himself
that, although he looks black, his soul is white.
4 bereaved of light: deprived of light. He feels inferior.
5 a tree: a kind of protection to the body against the excessive heat of the day.
6 there God does live: human beings have their origin in the East, where God dwells in
light.
10 gives his heat away: here, heat is used as a metaphor for God’s love. If God is the sun,
then it follows that the rays of the sun are beams of God’s love.
12 noon-day: since God dwells in the Sun, noon-day is the time when the beams are at their
strongest.

22
15 these black bodies, and sunburnt face: continuing with the metaphor of the sunbeams as
God’s/ Christ’s love, Blake extends the logic to imply that a black skin is indicative of an
abundance of His love.
16 but a cloud, and like a shady grove: Blake often imagines that the body is like a garment,
a temporary protection provided to the soul when it is separated from God and sent to
earth.
19 “Come out from the grove . . .”: God will call us back and we shall not need these
bodies, which are only temporary protection.
20 round my golden tent: The tents are the ‘tabernacles of the Lord in heaven;’ referred to
frequently in the Old Testament, Psalm 84.
22 English boy: most probably, the son of the slave owners.
24 like lambs: the simile of the lamb for a child is very common in Blake’s poetry.
25 I’ll shade him: the black skin offers greater protection against heat, therefore the Black
boy believes that the white boy will take some time to adjust himself to the heat of
heaven. Till then, he will offer his protection.
27 silver hair: Blake uses terms like silver or white (as in “The Chimney Sweeper”) to
describe blond hair.
Critical Analysis
In this poem, Blake’s views are expressed by a coloured child, representative of Black
children, who suffers on account of the inhuman practice of slavery. Blake was filled with
indignation when he saw Black servant boys being exploited and maltreated in fashionable
London houses.
Guided by his mother, who performs the role of the Guardian-Christ in this poem, the
little Black boy tries to re-assure himself that his dark skin is actually a sign of God’s favour.
God is the source of light and heat. He has given dark skins to some children in order that
they may better receive the light of His love - it is a known fact that dark surfaces can absorb
heat better than light surfaces. The little Black boy consoles himself with the thought that
ultimately in Heaven, in the presence of God, he will be able to protect the little while boy
and thereby earn his love and gratitude. There is a subtle suggestion that even while
expressing his confidence in God’s kindness in providing him with a dark skin, the little
Black boy cannot wholly rid himself of his feeling of inferiority and is very eager to earn the
love of the little white boy and serve him in Heaven.
This is another poem in the Songs of Innocence, where sorrow casts its shadow on the
world of innocence and joy. There is an explicit moral lesson to be learnt; that we are “put on
earth a little space” in order to experience love. Blake is illustrating the doctrine of
Swedenborg that the greater our sorrow, the greater will be our understanding of the beams of
God’s love. The dark skin is used by Blake as a symbol of suffering. Not all human beings

23
have dark skins but they all experience what the dark skin symbolizes - suffering and sorrow.
All men are like the little Black boy, as their souls are purer than the “clouds” (bodies) which
they inhabit. It is only through death that all men will be released from suffering. In the
presence of God, the Wise Guardian, all children, black and white, will find joy. As C.M.
Bowra says, “In the fatherhood of God, Blake’s characters have equal rights and privileges.”
Blake’s themes of sacramental guardianship and prophetic vision are evident in this poem.
By his delicate handling of the situation – a little Black boy being cruelly treated by a
little while boy – Blake prevents his poem from descending to the level of biting satire. On
the social level, it is an indictment of slavery. In religious terms, the cruelty inherent in
human nature is overcome by Christ’s all-embracing, loving-kindness. The little Black boy,
after he has acquired wisdom, becomes the intermediary between the little white boy and
God. He performs the role of Christ. There are a series of inter-linked images of sacramental
guardianship – the mother is the universal poetic-prophetic genius, the little Black boy is the
guardian of the English child, and God is the ultimate guardian of all mankind.
Check your progress
i) Who is the narrator in this poem?
ii) What explanation does the mother of the little Black boy give for his black skin?
iii) Describe the vision of the future that the little Black boy has.

2.2 The Songs of Experience

In the first poem of the Songs of Innocence, the “Introduction,” a Piper is inspired by a child
on a cloud to write happy songs, and happy they are. Although “The Chimney Sweeper” and
“The Little Black Boy” are both about the most exploited sections of society, the outlook of
these poems is joyful. The speakers demonstrate faith in Christian teachings and, with their
imagination, are able to transcend their painful circumstances.
In the following three poems that you will study, you will notice a change in tone and
atmosphere. The speakers in “The Chimney Sweeper” and “London” have no faith in
redemption or salvation. The speaker of “The Tyger” has none of the joyful belief in the
external world, as the child in “The Lamb” does.
i) “The Chimney Sweeper”
Introduction
The sorrow of the chimney sweeper in the Songs of Innocence is temporarily put to rest by
the promise of some kind of reward in the world to come. This reward is marketed by the
ruling class; the Priest and King, so that they can live in comfort. All the doctrines and
dogmas, and the institutions of mercy thrive because they can imprison innocent minds and
condition and inhibit their spiritual growth. In Songs of Innocence, the chimney sweeper
lacks the knowledge of experience and therefore, is easily tricked into accepting some kind of
illusory reward and is prepared to suffer and still feel happy.
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 The chimney sweeper of the Songs of Experience has a clearly disillusioned view of
religion. The eye of experience sees through the hypocrisy hidden from the eye of innocence.
The tragedy of experience lies in the fact that it demystifies the knowledge imparted by the
institutions of Church and State. These rulers invest for their seat in heaven through the kind
of mercy and pity they show towards the poor and the weak. Therefore, poverty must prevail.
The child of innocence can comfort himself by inventing a heaven out of the dogmas thrown
to it and morals taught to it. But the child of experience can only weep. There is no comfort
for him, only woe.
We should not imagine that innocence is about childhood and experience is about
adulthood; they are the two contrary states of the human soul. The state of the soul which
finds comfort in protection and is capable of imaginative invention is innocence, and the state
of soul which realizes that all security is futile is experience.
Blake wanted to destroy all that binds man to exploitative institutions and he also wanted
to destroy man’s obedience to those moral precepts that hinder the full power of his creative
will to assert and revolt. ‘That is what experience is for, to bring us from God the Father to
that God which man alone creates.’ God, the father has become a source of exploitation in the
hands. of religious hypocrites who want to earn their heaven out of the miseries they inflict
upon the poor and the oppressed.
Study Notes
1 a little black thing: the narrator sees a little child in the snow, covered with black soot.
Note how Blake uses the contrasting colours (black and white) to highlight the child’s
pitiable condition.
2 ‘weep! ’weep! in notes of woe: The weeping of the innocent chimney sweeper is easily
converted into joy, but the weeping of this chimney sweeper is condemned to permanent
woe.
3 ‘Where are thy father and mother? say?’: the narrator asks the little chimney sweep
about the whereabouts of his parents.
4 They are both gone to the church to pray: at first the little sweep’s answer seems to be
without resentment but in the next few lines, he complains about their neglect of their
parental duties and their hypocrisy.
5 heath: an area of land where grass and small plants grow.
7 clothes of death: the chimney sweeps wore black clothes so that the soot couldn’t soil
them. Black is a colour associated with death.
8 notes of woe: the little child is forced to work as a chimney sweeper. When he calls out
‘sweep’ sweep,’ in the streets, as was customary in the trade, his voice carries the pain of
his suffering.
11 God & his Priest & King: the child expresses his anger at his parents who have sold him
off and think he is happy. There is bitterness in the child’s narration; he indicts the
Church, the caretakers of religion, and the state- for failing to do their duty.
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Critical Analysis
The narrator sees ‘a little black thing’ in the snow and notes the sorrow in his cry; the
chimney sweeper is out in the cold, dressed in his black work clothes, calling out for work in
the street. The reader’s attention is immediately drawn to the child’s pitiful condition. The
narrator asks him about his parents; the implication is clear- he wants to know why this little
child is wandering alone. The child is suffering the misery and fate of an orphan. The
chimney sweeper’s replies are an expression of his anger and resentment at his condition; he
tells the narrator that his parents have effectively killed his childhood by apprenticing him to
a master sweep. The parents believe that because the child still dances and sings, he is happy
with his work.
The parents are guilty of neglecting their duty towards the child. But Blake doesn’t stop
there. In the last two lines, there is a powerful indictment of those institutions which should
have protected the little boy instead of allowing him to be exploited;
‘And are gone to praise God & his Priest & King,
‘Who make up a heaven of our misery.’
Note that the first letter of ‘Priest’ and ‘King’ are capitalized. The little child is not taken in
by religious doctrines; especially the one that considers suffering as a prelude to a place in
heaven. He understands that his misery is the foundation on which religious institutions
thrive. At this point, it is essential to compare the poem to “The Chimney Sweeper” in the
Songs of Innocence. Little Tom Dacre finds comfort in the words of his friend, whereas the
little chimney sweeper in this poem, demonstrates an awareness much beyond his years. He is
disenchanted with religion and sees through the hypocrisy of religious institutions.
Check your progress
i) What does the narrator see in the snow? What does he ask the little boy?
ii) What are the little chimney sweep’s feelings towards his parents.
iii) Comment on the significance of the last line.
ii) “London”
Introduction
In the late eighteenth century, London was at the cusp of the Industrial Revolution and
impacted by its effects. It was a centre of industry and trade. In the space of sixteen lines,
Blake presents a microcosm of a city that is teeming with suffering humanity. Engels, in The
Condition of the Working Class in England writes;
Only when one has tramped the pavements of the main streets for a few days
does one notice that these Londoners have had to sacrifice what is best in human
nature in order to create all the wonders of civilization with which their city
teems, that a hundred creative faculties that lay dormant in them remained

26
 inactive and were suppressed . . . there is something distasteful about the very-
bustle of the streets, something that is abhorrent to human nature itself.
(Walter Benjamin, Illuminations (London 1973) p-176)
The narrator is a lost wanderer in the streets of London. He is simply appalled at the
condition that humanity is mechanically living in. It is a city of ‘woe’, ‘cry’ and ‘fear’; of a
‘black’ning’ church, and the soldier’s blood running down the palace walls; it is a city of
‘blights’ and ‘plagues,’ and marriage is not love but a hearse.
“London” represents man’s ultimate pollution: environmental, religious, and political.
All the people living in London are slaves or victims of manacles, handcuffs, censorships,
and restrictions imposed upon them by the ideologies of the ruling few. The citizens are
forced to become victims of these rules and restraints because of their own ‘mind forg’d
manacles’ that leave no scope for any revolution. The manacles suppress the imaginative
faculties.
Study Notes
1 charter’d: here, the word means the granting of exclusive rights for trading to corporates.
The word ‘charter’d is repeated in the next line; implying that the river has also been
monopolized by business interests.
3 every cry of every Man: the ‘M’ is capitalized to imply that the narrator is speaking of all
men. Similarly, in ‘Infant,’(5) ‘Chimney-sweeper,’(9) and ‘Soldier’(11), the first letters
are capitalized to emphasize that they are representative figures.
4 marks of weakness, marks of woe: The word ‘mark’ in line 3 is a verb, meaning ‘to
notice’ and ‘marks’ in line 4 means an impression or a stamp. Everything in the city of
London bears the marks of repression in one form or another. The word also has a
biblical significance and refers to Ezekiel 9:4: (And the Lord said unto him; Go through
the midst of the city . . . and mark upon the foreheads of man that sigh). Bloom claims,
‘it means the suffering of the righteous people and blames the church and the king. The
poet is only a passive witness of this suffering.’
7 ban: ban means a public prohibition.
8 mind forg’d manacles: it is a metaphor for the self-imposed chains that man creates in
his own mind. The restrictive teachings of the Church and the prohibitive laws of the
State have been internalized by people, who become incapable of breaking free of these
bonds.
8 I hear: there is a shift in the narrator’s mode of perception. From this point onwards, he
hears sounds of suffering in various forms; the chimney sweeper’s cry, the soldier’s sigh,
and the harlot’s curse.

27
9 black’ning Church appalls: here, ‘black’ning is used as an intransitive verb. The
meaning of this line is that the walls of the Church turn black, and it is put to shame by
the chimney sweeper’s cry.
11 hapless soldier: the soldier joins the army and sheds his blood for the comfort of the
Palace. He joins the army because of his deprivation and poverty. His social
circumstances force him to fight and shed his blood for the selfish, cruel and inhuman
kings.
12 runs in blood down Palace walls: here, the Palace is a symbol of the monarchy. Note
how the soldier’s sigh figuratively transforms into blood on the palace walls.
14 harlot’s curse: the prostitute has some venereal disease which is congenital.
15 infant’s tear: the mother’s disease is passed on to the child. The disease causes blindness
at birth.
16 Marriage hearse: the capital ‘M’ again is a paradox as it was in Man and Infant.
Marriage with so many prohibitions, becomes a living death. It is a coffin into which two
people are simultaneously sentenced to death.
A Critical Analysis
The poet or the narrator is a passive wanderer through the streets of London. He comments
that both the streets and the river Thames are ‘charter’d.’ The word becomes a critique of
commercialization -implying that the selective granting of trading rights has affected the river
as well;
It is a perversion to say that a charter gives right. It operates by a contrary effect-
that of taking rights away. Rights are inherently in all the inhabitants, but
charters, by annulling those rights in the majority, leave the right by exclusion, in
the hands of a few . . . (E. P. Thompson, London (Cambridge) pp. 9-10)
The narrator sees signs of misery all around; caused by the fear of authority which has
enslaved man’s freedom.
Blake did not believe that God exists apart from Man. “Man is All Imagination. God is
Man and exists in us and we in him - Imagination is the Divine Body in every man.” But the
social doctrines prescribed by the Church kill man’s imagination, and he becomes a prisoner
of these institutions and thrives on their mercy. So the city, the great city of London breeds an
atmosphere in which woe and fear reign supreme.
The second stanza further analyses the reason for this anguish in every man and every
infant. The reason lies in the mind of man and its refusal to think of liberty. This mind has
lost its capacity to think or imagine. Man’s mind has no limbs of imagination. It is hand-
cuffed or manacled. The manacles are created by the mind because of its passive acceptance
of the doctrines imposed on it by the Church and King. This enslaved mind bleeds with tears

28
and fears, woes and cries. However, the word ‘every’ is a reflection of the narrator’s own
state of mind; he seems to be viewing the city through a lens that generalizes everything.
The chimney sweeper suffers because of the Church and the soldier suffers because of
the King. The chimney sweeper’s miserable life has the Church’s tacit approval; the soldier’s
death is demanded by the Palace. What the poet emphasizes is a terrible Testament of
Injustice and utter lack of imagination in the weak and the deprived, who accept it silently.
The chimney sweeper and the soldiers suffer because of their social conditions which
condemn them to these professions. The fate of the chimney sweeper and the blood of the
soldier does not hurt the Church or the Palace. The narrator may feel that the Church is
blackened but his sympathy is of no use either for the chimney sweeper or for the soldier and
he knows it and there lies the tragedy.
The fourth stanza begins therefore with the words ‘But most’ which means that there is
more appalling cruelty. This cruelty he finds in the harlot’s curse. In eighteen words, he
describes the fate of poor girls who are forced into prostitution. Prostitution thrives because
marriage is a virtual death-in-life. The prostitute carries a venereal disease which is not only
passed on to the person who sleeps with her but also to the child she delivers. In London, life
is exiled, chartered, and prostituted. The narrator observes all this, is aware that it is a cruel
injustice; a pitiless indictment. He knows it will continue in one form or the other.
Though the poem is a valuable sociological document, where Blake, in a few lines,
paints a dark and disturbing picture of the city of London, we must not forget that the narrator
is also the subject of the poet’s indictment. With his limiting vision of an apocalyptic city, the
narrator’s consciousness is as much a prisoner of the ‘mind forg’d manacles’ as the denizens
of the city. In his inability to transcend the ugly reality around him, he is a product of
experience. Unlike the little chimney sweeper and the little Black boy in the Songs of
Innocence, he doesn’t have the spiritual faith or imaginative vision, that enables them to
transcend their difficult circumstances and look beyond it.
Check your progress
i) What does the narrator in this poem see and hear?
ii) Explain the phrase ‘mind-forg’d manacles?’
iii) Comment on the attitude of the speaker towards the city of London.
iii) “The Tyger”
Introduction
This poem, which is considered Blake’s masterpiece, has been variously interpreted by
critics. On a superficial reading it appears to be a presentation of contraries, good and evil,
but the implications are far greater than a mere conflict between good and evil.
The poet expresses his wonder at the beauty, the power, and the sheer magnificence of
the tiger. The poem is framed as a series of questions. Some questions are incomplete in

29
form, suggesting that the poet is overwhelmed by awe. The terror which the beast inspires is
communicated through the repetition of such words as ‘dare,’ ‘dread,’ and ‘terrors.’ To the
narrator, it appears daring, for even God to undertake such an awesome act of creation. It
seems incredible that the God who created the lamb could also create the tiger: ‘Did he who
made the Lamb make thee?’
The tiger is Blake’s symbol for regeneration and for Energy, which is opposed to Urizen or
Reason. Urizen, the false God with his iron laws, has crushed man. For Urizen, the Energies
(which Blake equated with human emotions, especially love) are evil and shameful. Blake
believed that the Energies should not be suppressed for they are inspiring and powerful forces
in life. Only by giving expression to the Energies can man attain happiness and fulfilment. In
this poem, the tiger symbolizes these Energies. However, even without reference to Blake’s
symbols, the poem can be read as an expression of awe at the paradoxical nature of divine
creation.
Study Notes
1 Tyger: Blake uses the older, archaic spelling of tiger; most probably for poetic effect.
1 burning bright: the tiger’s vivid orange colour resembles a fire in the forest.
2 forests of the night: symbols of Church and State.
3 immortal hand or eye: the speaker imagines that the creator/ God has a human form.
5 deeps: valleys.
7 wings: a reference to God. In Blake’s print “The Elohim Creating Adam”, God is
represented as a winged figure.
8 dare seize the fire: the courage of the creator reminds the speaker of the Greek myth of
Prometheus, who dared to steal fire from heaven.
9 art: here, it means the craft of the ironsmith, a person who makes articles from iron.
10 sinews: tendons, that join muscle to bone in the body.
12 What dread hand? & what dread feet?: here, ‘dread’ is used as an adjective and it means
‘to cause fear and worry.’ The narrator wants to know which hands and feet could dare
to seize the tiger, once its heart started to beat.
13 the chain: an image of fettering and binding. It is implied that no one can chain the
ferocious tiger.
14 furnace: the speaker imagines the creator is perhaps an ironsmith, and that the tiger was
created in the furnace in his workshop.
15 anvil: block of iron, on which metal can be hammered and shaped.
17 stars: interpreted by several critics to symbolize the angels, particularly the rebel angels,
followers of Lucifer.

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20 the Lamb: the Tyger is the counterpart of the Lamb. God created both the lamb and the
tiger. Both the meekness and gentleness of the lamb and the power and passion of the
tiger are necessary for human evolution.
Critical Analysis
In the poem, “The Lamb,” from Songs of Innocence, the little child asks questions and
joyfully answers them himself; secure in his innocent belief in a benevolent creator. Like this
poem, “The Tyger” is also a poem where the speaker wonders about the Creator but with a
crucial difference; in “The Tyger,” the questions remain unanswered. The narrator gazes on
the ferocious creature, wondering at the skill and power of its creator. The poem is in the
form of a series of questions that have no answers; all that he can conclude is “Did he who
made the Lamb make thee?” The speaker’s understanding is limited; he can think of the
creator in human terms only, with hands and eyes. It is difficult for him to accept the
existence of God without questioning it. Compare this to the speaker’s attitude in “The
Lamb,” where the little child is secure in his knowledge of a benevolent Christ, imagined as a
lamb. Experience questions whereas innocence accepts without doubt.
Another way to read the poem is with reference to Blake’s symbolism; as a celebration
of the imaginative power of the human soul-symbolized by the tiger. The tiger has the
ferocity to break the ‘mind-forg’d manacles’ and burn the ‘forests of the night.’ According to
C.M. Bowra, Blake believed that “the creative activity of the imagination and the
transformation of experience through it are possible only through the release and exercise of
awful powers. He chooses his symbols for these powers in violent and destructive things.”
Blake wrote that “the tigers of wrath are wiser than the horses of instruction;” the wrath
which Blake found in Christ, his symbol of the divine spirit which will not tolerate restriction
but asserts itself against established rules, was the means by which he hoped to unite
innocence and experience in some tremendous synthesis.
The poetry of this desire and what it meant to Blake can be seen in “The Tyger.” This is
the pure poetry of his trust in cosmic forces. The tiger is Blake’s symbol for the fierce forces
in the soul which are needed to break the bonds of experience. ‘The forests of the night,’ in
which the tiger lurks, are ignorance, repression, and superstition. The tiger is created by
unknown, supernatural spirits, who beat out living worlds with their hammers. Martin K.
Nurmi considers “The Tyger” as;
. . . a kind of dialectical struggle in which Blake strives to bring his emblematic
tiger’s two ‘contraries’ -- ‘its deadly terrors’ and the divinity in which it
participates by having been created by an immortal hand or eye’ – into the
‘fearful symmetry symbolized by the animal’s ‘natural symmetry of ferocity and
beauty and even by its contrasting stripes . . . the final poem thus emerges quite
clearly as a complex but essentially positive statement affirming the dread tiger’s
divinity, and not a probing of good and evil, as it has sometimes been interpreted.

31
 D.W. Harding dismisses all interpretations of “The Tyger” as a conflict between good and
evil;
At simplest reading the poem is a contemplation of the fact that besides
peacefulness and gentleness the world includes fierce strength terrifying in its
possibilities of destructiveness but also impressive and admirable, a stupendous
part of creation and seemingly a challenge to the idea of a benign Creator. To see
that the tiger’s fierceness and the lamb’s gentleness are also contrasting qualities
of the human mind is a very slight extension beyond the simplest literal sense.
The theme is a commonplace, and also a fact of supreme human significance, the
focus of sharp, psychological conflict in human minds and of unending
theological and philosophical discussion. What Blake’s fine poem does, is to let
us contemplate the facts in their emotional intensity and conflict, and to share his
complex attitude of awe, terror, admiration, near bafflement and attempted
acceptance.
Check your progress
i) Describe the creator of the tiger, as visualized by the speaker.
ii) Discuss the structure of the poem, as a series of unanswered questions?
iii) Comment on the tiger as a symbol of the creative imagination.

2.3 Summing Up
In the preceding two sections you have read about the seven poems in your course. Although
each poem can be read independently, and appreciated without reference to the others, you
need to form a wider perspective and identify the common thread in each section of the Songs
of Innocence and Experience.
The first point you need to remember is that the narrator in each poem is different; what
you hear is not the voice of the poet but a narrator. For instance, the narrator in the first poem
of the Songs of Innocence is a piper and in “The Chimney Sweeper,” it is a little chimney
sweep. The speakers in these poems, as well as “The Little Black Boy” and “The Lamb” are
all innocent but not in the conventional sense of the word, as being simple and uncorrupted;
their faith in God/ Jesus is unquestioning and they have the imagination to look beyond
suffering and exploitation at the possibility of heaven. The little chimney sweeper’s words of
comfort for his friend Tom Dacre are couched in Christian terminology and the belief in a
benevolent God. The little Black boy is the child of a slave woman and is convinced of his
spiritual superiority, as explained by his mother. You might wonder - is William Blake
suggesting that the solution to some of society’s most pressing problems lies in unquestioning
faith in the will of god. That is not the case. Although Blake presents the childlike faith as an
admirable quality in humans, he knew that such a state of mind will eventually be
contaminated by experience; an inevitable step in the progression of the human soul. The
chimney sweeper of the Songs of Innocence becomes the chimney sweeper of the Songs of

32
Experience; he is not taken in by religious platitudes and has realized that his misery feeds
the Church and its priests. He is full of anger and resentment towards his parents. Similarly,
the speaker in “London,” is unable to see beyond the suffering he witnesses in his depressing
walk through the city. His consciousness is essentially flawed; unable to perceive any
redeeming feature in the world around him. Experience, for Blake, was a state of soul that has
lost its divine ability to see; for instance, the speaker in “The Tyger” can only question.
For Blake, individual redemption or salvation lay in breaking free of the chains imposed
by society, with the help of the imagination. His poem, “The Tyger” is a celebration of the
spiritual forces in the human soul that can empower him/her to break free of the mental bonds
created by a false religion. Though Blake was sharply critical of the concept of heaven
peddled by Christian preachers, he didn’t reject the core teachings of Jesus Christ. What he
objected to was the refusal of the Church to alleviate the sufferings of the poor and innocent.
He felt that Christianity had not been interpreted in its true spirit.
Assignment Questions
i) Compare and contrast “The Lamb” with “The Tyger.”
ii) Discuss various symbols used in Blake’s poems.
iii) With reference to the Songs of Innocence, explain what Blake meant by a state of
‘innocence?’
iv) With reference to the Songs of Experience, explain what Blake meant by a state of
‘experience?’
v) Discuss William Blake as a social critic, with special reference to the two “The Chimney
Sweeper” poems, “London,” and “The Little Black Boy.”

References
Bowra, C. M. The Romantic Imagination. Oxford: OUP, 1957.
Frye, Northrop. Fearful Symmetry: A Study of William Blake. Princeton: Princeton University
Frye, 1947.
Gleckner, Robert F. The Piper & the Bard: A Study of William Blake. Wayne State University
Press, 1959.
Harding, D. W. ‘William Blake’ Blake to Byron: Pelican Guide to English Literature, Vol. 5.
ed. Boris Ford, Harmondsworth: Penguin Books, 1962.
Lister, Raymond. William Blake: An Introduction to the Man and to his Work. New York:
Fred Ungar Publishing Company, 1969.
Nurmi, Martin K. William Blake. Univ. of Michigan: Hutchinson, 1975.
Raine, Kathleen. Blake and Tradition. UK: Routledge, 1968.

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(b) Charlotte Smith: “To Melancholy,” “Nightingale”

1. Introduction
Charlotte Smith’s Elegaic Sonnets and other Essays was first published in 1784. It was very
popular and reprinted many times over the years. She was the first woman to publish sonnets;
which eventually became the leading form of the Romantic Movement. In her simple
language, Smith anticipates the Romantic poets; Wordsworth, Coleridge, and Keats. In
addition to simplicity of expression, Smith displays sensitivity towards nature and a sad,
contemplative mood in her poetry. At the same time, she brings a deeply personal perspective
to her work.
Smith identified herself, foremost, as a poet despite being popular as a prose writer. Her
thematic approach and style of poetry revived the sonnet form in England. Her contribution
to poetry, especially romantic poetry, was so vital that Wordsworth called her “A lady under
whom English verse is under greater obligations . . .,” and Henry James Pye states that her
excellence in both poetry and prose is charming, imaginative, and evokes passion. Whereas,
Antje Blank says that her work reflected her belief in kindness, charity, and generosity;
cultivating sympathy and tenderness for unfortunate sufferers. Read the two sonnets carefully
before going through the Study Material.
Learning Objectives
The objective of this part of the Study Material is to enable you to;
- critically engage with the genre, form, themes, and literary devices used by the poet;
- comprehend the attitude of the writer towards pain and suffering; and
- appreciate the importance of emotions, especially melancholy, that heighten one’s
sensitivity and creativity.
2. About the Author
Charlotte Turner Smith was an eminent Romantic novelist and poet, born in the year 1749.
Her father owned two country estates in Sussex and Surrey. Although, she was born in a
prosperous family, her father’s gambling soon left them in debt. At the early age of 15, her
father got her married to Benjamin Smith who, like her father, was irresponsible and had the
same fate. She had to take the responsibility of raising her nine children alone and for this
reason, she decided to sell her works. Through her writings, she challenged the societal and
moral conventions of her day, as is evident in her epistolary novel Desmond. Inspired by the
French Revolution, she also expressed her thoughts on class (in)equality. Her celebration of
individuality, criticism of social injustice, and the British class system is evident in her
works. ‘To imitate is the sincerest form of flattery.’ If this is true, then Smith was regarded by
Jane Austen too, who borrowed character, incident, and plot from her; despite ridiculing her
works. But she was also well regarded by preeminent writers such as Sir Walter Scot and
William Wordsworth, who considered her an imperative influence on the Romantic
Movement. In fact, the editor of her poems, Stuart Curran called her, “the first poet in
34
England whom in retrospect we would call Romantic.” Wordsworth also believed that Smith
wrote “with true feelings for rural nature, at a time when nature was not much regarded by
English poets.”
Charlotte Smith’s poems are autobiographical in nature; she was deeply affected by the
misery and unlucky turns that affected her life and the fortune of her family. Her poems are
deeply emotional, especially her elegiac sonnets which are laden with mournful songs.
Considering the position of women in those days, she was not in immediate control of her life
and that is why didn’t follow popular conventions of the day. This is evident in the structure
of her poems, where she doesn’t follow the norms of either the Petrarchan or the
Shakespearean sonnet. Charlotte Smith also wrote several novels, some of the famous ones
were Emmeline (1788), Celestina (1791), Desmond (1792), and The Old Manor House
(1793). The subjects of her novels usually include a chaste and pious heroine, who is
subjected to sufferings until rescued by a hero; a typical damsel in distress saved by a knight
in the shining armor plot. However, she also infused the plots with political commentary. Her
novels greatly influenced the growth of ‘the novel of sensibility’ and ‘Gothic fiction.’
3. “To Melancholy”
‘SONNET XXXII. To Melancholy. Written on the Banks of the Arun, October, 1785’ is an
elegiac poem written by Charlotte Smith. The poem comprises fourteen lines which makes it
a sonnet; a genre that usually dealt with subjects such as love. However, in her sonnets,
Charlotte Smith combines the popular theme of love with that of mourning and somberness.
It is an emotionally stirring poem, with a strong visual component, that speaks on themes of
sadness and the loss of Thomas Otway, a poet whom she admired. However, the poem is not
just an elegy to the poet, it also an appreciation of somberness; as it rouses a certain kind of
pensive mood that Smith finds soothing.
The Structure
Being a Petrarchan sonnet, the poem is divided into two portions; the octet and sestet. In a
Petrarchan sonnet, the first eight lines of the stanza are called the octet. The second part of
the poem which follows the octet, is called the sestet and has six lines. Furthermore, the octet
is divided into two sections; each containing four lines, called quatrains. Similarly, the sestet
is divided into two sections called tercets; each containing three lines. According to the
rhyming scheme followed in the Petrarchan sonnet, the two quatrains must follow a
consistent pattern of ABBA/ABBA; whereas the tercets follow the rhyming pattern of
CDE/CDE. Another unique element that distinguishes a Petrarchan sonnet is Volta, which
means turn in Italian. It occurs after an octet ends or before a sestet begins and marks a
change or ‘turn’ in the thoughts, emotions, beliefs, and settings of the sonnet.
The Epigraph
Written on the banks of the Arun. 1785.

35
It appears before the first line and is meant for the instruction of the reader; to encapsulate the
experience of gloom and sweet sadness that the poet experiences on the banks of the river
Arun, when she first wrote the poem. The River Arun runs in West Sussex. The epigraph
identifies the geographical location of the genesis of the poem. This was characteristic of
Romantic poetry; to appreciate local beauty. Smith also had an avid interest in botany and
knew the scientific names of many plants.
Lines 1-8
When latest Autumn spreads her evening veil
And the gray mists from these dim waves arise,
I love to listen to the hollow sighs,
Thro’ the half leafless wood that breathes the gale
For at such hours the shadowy phantom, pale,
Oft seems to fleet before the poet’s eyes;
Strange sounds are heard, and mournful melodies,
As of night wand’rers, who their woes bewail!
In the beginning itself, the poet sets both the mood and ambience of the poem. The first
quatrain is replete with imagery, a literary device specifically used to represent actions,
objects and ideas in a way that addresses or appeals to the physical senses; such as auditory,
visual, or sense of touch. In the first quatrain, ‘gray mists’, ‘dim waves’, ‘hollow sighs’, and
‘leafless wood’; all of these poignantly illustrate sights and sounds but also convey a feeling
of dejection and despondency. Smith also uses personification, a literary device in which the
poet ascribes human characteristics and behavior to an abstraction, feeling, or phenomenon.
For instance, in the very first line of this poem, the poet describes ‘Autumn’ as a lady who
spreads ‘her evening veil,’ thus cloaking the land in darkness. The evening veil is itself a
metaphor that describes the darkening skies as the sun sets; as if someone is pulling a veil
over one’s eyes or head. She uses the literary device of personification in ‘leafless wood that
breathes the gale;’ ascribing the wood with the human characteristic of breathing. These two
devices help the reader to visualize, associate, and empathize with the emotions that the poet
is going through. At the same time, the reader is made to understand the deeper meaning and
objective of the poem; which is to find a certain calm in poignancy. Smith’s description of
desolation and her frame of mind is different from other writers of her age. She finds solace
in woe and does not equate them with suffering alone.
In the second quatrain, the poet contemplates the twilight hours, that encourage the
appearance of a ‘shadowy phantom’ that seems to move in front of the poet. The words
‘mournful melodies’ and ‘woes bewail;’ add to the overarching feelings of sadness and
gloom. Ghosts and spirits are often associated with the eerie and the uncanny, and in some
cases, the spine-chilling and spooky. But Smith loves to listen to the ‘night wand’rers,’ who
remind her of her loneliness. The quatrain is not an expression of spookiness but of
despondency, as she yearns and remembers the past but at the same time recognizes and
acknowledges the importance of melancholy. The poet also uses alliteration and consonance
36
for tuneful effect; a mere repetition of consonant sounds that are in close proximity. In lines 5
and 6 the poet uses alliteration in ‘the shadowy phantom, pale . . . poet’s eyes’ and then again
in lines 7 and 8 ‘mournful melodies’ and ‘wand’rers, who with their woes’ respectively. The
poem is also laden with ‘S’ sounds; ‘mists,’ ‘waves arise,’ ‘hollow sighs,’ ‘leafless wood that
breathes,’ and ‘wand’rers…woes.’
Lines 9-14
Here, by his native stream, at such an hour,
Pity’s own Otway, I methinks could meet,
And hear his deep sighs swell the sadden’d wind!
Oh Melancholy!—such thy magic power,
That to the soul these dreams are often sweet,
And soothe the pensive visionary mind!
The next part of the poem is the sestet in which Smith brings a slight deviation or the turn,
called ‘volta.’ In the first tercet, she draws the reader’s attention to another playwright/poet
from the region, Thomas Otway (1652-1685), who died long before she was born. Otway was
quite popular for his sensitive and emotional approach towards his subject matter and Smith
admired him for the same; identifying him as a kindred spirit. Despite being well-known,
Otway died penniless. There was speculation that he died by choking on hastily eaten bread,
bought from a baker, with money given as charity by a passer-by. Whatever be the case, the
situation was quite pitiful. It is only natural that Smith regards Otway as ‘Pity’s own.’ No
wonder that the ‘shadowy phantom’ from the preceding stanza is none other than the late
Thomas Otway, whom the speaker imagines. It is his ‘mournful melodies’ and ‘deep sighs’
that the poet finally embodies in the imagined ghost of Thomas Otway.
It is only in the concluding tercet, when the poet finally addresses ‘Melancholy,’ that the
entirety of context, to which the poem has only alluded so far, becomes clear. This particular
figure of speech is called an apostrophe; a device in which the poet or the speaker addresses a
non-existent entity as if it is a real person. The non-existent entity here is ‘Melancholy.’ The
poet addresses her emotions directly, which shows acknowledgement as well as catharsis.
This catharsis, or as Smith says ‘magical power,’ calms the poet. The ambience and the
memories of Otway induce a kind of a soothing pain. Maybe she saw in his short, tragic life,
reflections of her own troubles.
Questions
i) Elaborate upon the kind of feelings that words like ‘dim waves’, ‘hollow sighs’, ‘leafless
woods’, ‘shadowy phantom’, and ‘mournful melodies’ stimulate in the reader.
ii) Why, according to the poet, is ‘Melancholy’ magical?

Conclusion
“To Melancholy” is a reflective sonnet that contemplates the emotion of sorrow. It is
dedicated to Thomas Otway, as the poet mourns his loss and mentions him by name.
37
Everything in the poem conveys a deep sense of loss. The surroundings seem to reflect the
poet’s somber behavior. The poetic devices used by Smith highlight her sentiments. She
bewails the tragic loss of Thomas Otway. Despite that, the poem cannot be described as a
depressing poem in a strict sense. Undeterred by the bleak, dismal, and heart-rending
connotations, the poem follows the tradition of sonnet writing and Smith dedicates this poem
to the emotion of ‘melancholy.’ She celebrates it and is soothed by its presence. The setting
where she places herself in the poem is apt for her musings in sorrow. The word
‘melancholy,’ in those times (according to the definition in 1785), also meant introspection of
one’s sad thoughts, often followed by solemn thinking. The poet, in this sense, enjoys
solitude and is filled with bittersweet emotions.
The poem initially seems self-contradictory but makes sense upon a close reading. For
example, the phantom, the gloomy surroundings, and melancholy itself, which are
expressions of negativity, bring a certain kind of peace and calm to the poet. In fact, the soul
of the entire poem is a paradoxical attraction towards sadness.
4. “To a Nightingale”
Introduction
“Sonnet III. To a Nightingale.” appeared in the first edition of Elegiac Sonnets in the year
1784. It is one of the three poems in the Nightingale series, the other two being “On the
Departure of the Nightingale” and “The Return of the Nightingale.” In this sonnet, Charlotte
Smith attempts to associate her emotions and thus, by extension, herself with the nightingale.
As in the earlier sonnet “To Melancholy,” the temporal setting is night; the poet comments
upon the relation between darkness and creative expression. According to the narrator, night
is the most appropriate time to contemplate and mull over emotions, and express them in
words.
Structure
“To a Nightingale” is different from “To Melancholy” in its rhyming scheme. Although both
are sonnets, the former is a Petrarchan sonnet, while the latter one isn’t. The rhyming scheme
of “To the Nightingale” follows; abba/cddc/efef/gg. The structure can’t strictly be associated
with Shakespearean sonnets as they follow the pattern: abab/cdcd/efef/gg. The only similarity
between the two is the concluding couplet. Charlotte Smith has been known to challenge the
defined structure of verse writing. It is therefore expected that she would fuse the two
structures in her poems.
Lines 1-8
Poor melancholy bird, that all night long
Tell’st to the Moon thy tale of tender woe;
From what sad cause can such sweet sorrow flow,
And whence this mournful melody of song?

38
 Thy poet’s musing fancy would translate
What mean the sounds that swell thy little breast,
When still at dewy eve thou leav’st thy nest,
Thus to the listening night to sing thy fate.
In the first line, “Poor melancholy bird, that all night long/ Tell’st to the Moon thy tale of
tender woe” the bird is personified as the one having feelings of hopelessness. The poet
actively empathizes with the sorrowful bird, who sings her melancholic song to the moon.
The major theme in this poem is the influence of pain and suffering on one’s life. The central
character of the poem is the nightingale, who has suffered an untold trauma in the past; yet
she sings her melancholic songs to the moon. The moon is an otherworldly object that exists
beyond the earth’s realm; visible but unattainable. In Romantic poetry, both the nightingale
and the moon have rich symbolic value. The poet asks the bird the cause of her grief.
The first quatrain initiates the first moving emotion that sets the poem in motion. The
reader immediately identifies sorrow, grief, and pathos as tribulations that the nightingale is
mired in. Here Smith, making an oblique reference to herself, says that it is only a ‘poet’s
musing fancy’ that can comprehend the meaning behind the melancholic songs of the
nightingale.
If the first quatrain is marked by the poet’s empathy for the nightingale, the second
quatrain demonstrates her genuine concern. The poet questions the nightingale about the
cause of her pain. Like a close friend, she queries the bird. She can empathize with the bird
who left her nest to wander into the woods. The nest here symbolizes home. In this part, the
poet uses different poetic devices. In ‘listening night,’ the poet uses personification;
imagining the night as a human. Another poetic device is metonymy; a replacement of an
sidea with another closely associated one. For instance, the ‘breast’ of the bird denotes her
heart. However, it also connotes emotions that an individual may have towards someone. The
movement from emphatic understanding to worrying and caring interrogation is seamless.
Lines 9-14
Pale Sorrow’s victims wert thou once among,
Though now released in woodlands wild to rove;
Say, hast thou felt from friends some cruel wrong,
Or diedst thou – martyr of disastrous love?
Ah, songstress sad, that such my lot might be;
To sigh and sing at liberty, like thee!
At the onset of the volta/caesura, in the beginning of the sestet, the poem takes a turn. Instead
of empathy and inquiry, the poet strives to articulate the cause of the nightingale’s grief. The
poet emphasizes ‘sorrow’ by exaggerating it, a device known as hyperbole; “Pale Sorrow’s
victims wert thou once among.” The speaker tries to guess the reasons for the nightingale’s
dejection and why it was left to fly in the wild woodlands. The poet wonders if the
nightingale has been callously ill-treated by her friends and acquaintances, or wounded in

39
love. She comments that the nightingale is in a better position than her. There are no societal
constraints on the nightingale and since she doesn’t have to obey any rules, she is absolutely
free. On the contrary, the poet is very much bound; by her family, society, religion, and the
state. It must be noted that, owing to her husband, Charlotte Smith had a traumatic life. One
can understand why, in the last couplet, she valorizes the songbird and wishes to be as free as
the bird. The uncanny nature of the postulations attributed to the nightingale compel the
reader to wonder if the bird and the poet are one and the same. The implicit theme of the
poem is the identification of poet with the nightingale.
In the last couplet, the poet makes a direct comparison between the two entities. The
defining word is ‘songstress’ which means a female singer or a poetess; but it also has a
secondary meaning- a female singing bird. Charlotte Smith thus merges both their identities,
indicating that both of them are desolate ‘songstresses.’
Questions
i) What does the nightingale stand for?
ii) Why does the poet wish to be like a nightingale?
iii) Comment on Charlotte Smith’s treatment of pain on the basis of both her poems.

Conclusion
The poem can be read at many levels, with different connotations. It deals with the intricate
and complex nature of pain. Conscious endurance of misery plays a significant role in the life
of human beings. “To a Nightingale” draws our attention to the nuances of suffering; which
only the sufferer can truly understand. The nightingale can be viewed as an archetypal
sufferer whose woes cannot be truly understood despite the poet’s attempt to ascertain and
understand. The nightingale is unperturbed or unaffected by the poet’s empathy, implying
that there is nobody who truly understands the pain except the sufferer herself. The poem
also highlights the yearning of the speaker for the freedom of the bird. It represents the
different moods of the speaker as she converses with the nightingale. She feels desolate,
curious and resentful of the bird.

40
 Paper IX – British Romantic Literature
Unit-2(a)

(i) Lines Composed a Few Miles Above Tintern Abbey

(ii) Ode : Intimations of Immortality

WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Contents
1. A Short Biographical Sketch
2. Tintern Abbey: The Poem
3. Tintern Abbey: An Analysis
4. Detailed Analysis of the Poem
5. A Critical Review
6. Check Your Understanding
7. Ode : Intimations Of Immortality From Recollections of Early Childhood
8. The Immortality Ode: A Detailed Analysis
9. A Critical Review
10. Select Bibliography
11. Some Questions

Edited by: Prepared by:

Dr. Neeta Gupta P. C. Khanna
V. P. Sharma

41
42
1. A Short Biographical Sketch

“WILLIAM WORDSWORTH (1770-1850) was the son of John Wordsworth and Anne
Cookson, and was born at Cockermouth. His boyhood was spent among the wild hills of his
beloved Lake District. He lost his mother when he was eight and his father when he was
thirteen, but relatives helped to educate Wordsworth and his brothers and their sister Dorothy.
His schooldays at Hawkshead are vividly described in The Prelude. In 1787 he went to St.
John’s College, Cambridge where he read a great deal, but paid little attention to the
prescribed courses of study.
In 1790 and in 1791-92 he was in France, where he became a convinced revolutionist. In
1793 he was back in England and the outbreak of war with his beloved France caused him
anguish. When the excesses of ‘The Terror’ broke out he lost his belief in the Revolution and
turned to Godwin’s anarchical doctrines for consolation: barren stuff for a poet whose huge
inspiration was struggling to find adequate expression. In 1795 a legacy enabled him to set up
a house with Dorothy in the Quantocks, and in her companionship, he rediscovered joy in
Nature, and the friendship of Coleridge released the creativity within him. In 1798 Lyrical
Ballads was published, and in the following year he returned to the Lake District. From then
until 1805 his greatest work was done. He had discovered the true purpose of his life; his
marriage with Mary Hutchinson in 1802 brought him joy, his belief in Nature was ‘the nurse,
the guide, the guardian of [his] heart, and soul of all [his] moral being was unimpaired’
(Tintern Abbey, lines 100-111).
The great 1807 volume of poetry was the golden harvest of these fruitful years. The loss
at sea of his brother John in 1805 was a deep grief, and his poetry lost much of its
spontaneous joy after this. Nor was it John’s death alone and the decay of Coleridge that
saddened him; the glories of his visionary powers were waning and he felt that he had
exchanged youth for middle age:
‘Whither is fled the visionary gleam? Where is it now, the glory and the dream?’
(Immortality Ode)
He turned to Duty and the memories of “the dream” to prop his remaining years.
Throughout the rest of his long life he met with increasing evidence of the esteem in which
he was held. The abuse that had greeted the Lyrical Ballads was exchanged for honours,
pensions and the Laureateship. He died in 1850 and was buried at Grasmere. After his death
The Prelude was published. He had finished it as early as 1805 but deliberately held it back
for posthumous publication, knowing the publicity that must attend this autobiographical
epic. Though a most unequal poet, Wordsworth is one of our greatest. His greatness lies
principally in his power of expressing the awe and rapture that a sensitive man experiences
when confronted by the grandeur of natural beauty. So long as men are moved by the
rainbow and the rose, by “Waters on a starry night”’, so long will they recognize the supreme
genius of William Wordsworth. (Sh. Burton, E. W. Parker, A Pageant of Longer Poems
(Longmans), pp 279-80).

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1.1 William Wordsworth : The Poet
Wordsworth was the first poet who raised simple, bare and naked words to the level of
poetry. He did not depend upon any poetic cliche, mythology- or any other stereotyped
rhetoric. What distinguished Wordsworth from all other poets, is not only his attitude towards
Nature, or his language but also his views on the role of a poet as an individual and his
special concern for the ‘still sad music of humanity’. We shall here consider how these
aspects of his poetry are realized in some of his finest poems.
Wordsworth’s claim to the title of a great poet, as many critics believe, rests upon the
work of a single decade: his poetic genius showed at its best in what he wrote between 1798
and 1808. The Lyrical Ballads, (which Coleridge and Wordsworth conceived together), the
Lucy poems, some of his great Sonnets and The Immortality Ode all belong to this period.
Tintern Abbey which was the last poem of the first volume of The Lyrical Ballads and which,
it is believed, contains the central theme of all his major works, was written in 1798, the year
which marks the shaping of the great soul of a poet in the making.
Let me quote Coleridge who was the first, to recognize Wordsworth’s genius, and who
still remains the poet’s best interpreter:
I was in my twenty fourth year when I had the happiness of knowing Mr.
Wordsworth personally, and while my memory lasts, I shall hardly forget the sudden
effect produced in my mind, by his recitation of a manuscript poem. There was no mark
of strained thought, no forced diction, no crowd or turbulence of imagery. It was not
however the freedom from false taste, whether in common defects, or to those more
properly his own, which made so unusual an impression on my feelings immediately and
subsequently upon my judgement. It was the union of deep feelings with profound
thought, the fine balance of truth in observing, with the imaginative faculty in modifying
the objects observed; and above all the original gift of spreading the tone, the
atmosphere, and with it the depth and height of the ideal world around forms, incidents
and situations, of which, for the common view, custom had bedimmed all the lustre, has
dried up the sparkle and the dewdrops.’ (Coleridge, Biographia Literaria, 1817))
Yes, ‘the dew drops’. This is how Wordsworth’s simple words fall upon our mind. ‘Poetry’,
Wordsworth declares, ‘sheds not tears such as the Angels weep “but natural and human
tears.” ‘What is a poet? Asks Wordsworth, and answers: ‘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 others in the spirit of life that is within him: delighting to contemplate
similar volitions and passions as manifested in the goings-on of the Universe and habitually,
compelled to create them where he does not find them’(Wordsworth, Preface, 1800)).

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 Wordsworth is a man speaking to men in a language which rejects all poetic ornaments
and mechanical devices. In The Lyrical Ballads, Wordsworth for his part was ‘to give the
charm of novelty to things of every day and to excite a feeling analogous to the supernatural,
by directing it to the loveliness and the wonders of the world before us.’ He attempts to give
charm and novelty to things of everyday life by ‘awakening the mind’s attention from the
lethargy of custom,’ to choose incidents and situations from common life, and to relate and
describe them, throughout, as far as 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, 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
he associates ideas in a state of excitement. For this reason, ‘humble and rustic life was
generally chosen, because in that condition the essential passions of the heart find a better soil
in which they can attain their maturity and because in that condition passions of men are
incorporated with the beautiful and permanent forms of nature’ (Preface). The rustic and
humble people lacked sophistication, spoke, a language which contained the elemental force
of pure and primal emotions and showed human nature untrammeled by the conventions of
upbringing, custom and education. ‘All good poetry, he believes, ‘is the spontaneous
overflow of powerful feelings and takes its origin from emotions recollected in tranquility.
The emotion is contemplated till by a series of reactions the tranquility gradually disappears
and an emotion kindred to that which was before the subject of contemplation, is gradually
produced and does itself actually exist in the mind’(Preface). In this mood, successful
composition begins and it is in this mood that it is carried on. We shall actually see it
happening when we study Tintern Abbey. Here the powerful role of memory in retaining
certain images, and the contemplation of this memory in tranquility, recreates the entire
experience and growth of his mind in arriving at a certain maturity of vision and thought. The
language and movement of the poem is simple, natural and powerful. It is always true to the
emotion, the objects which caused this emotion and the philosophy or view of life which
sprang from this emotion.
Wordsworth is a poet speaking to men and his main concern is man and his mind. But he
regrets that man’s basic or inherited tendency is to lose the paradise naturally gifted to him.
Wordsworth regains this paradise in Nature, and is therefore regarded as a poet of Nature and
a worshipper of Nature. But Wordsworth’s basic preoccupation is not with the paradise he
regains, but with man, who is gradually losing his paradise, or the ‘still sad music of
humanity’(Tintern Abbey).
Wordsworth’s basic conviction is that man by alienating himself from Nature is
unconsciously orphaning himself. Away from the parent Nature there is no rest for his mind
or peace for his soul. Nature, to him with all its loveliness, is a living presence which co-
exists in the mind of man and the soul which is in unison with Nature is blessed by her peace.
He sincerely believes that the natural piety which binds all men together is best sustained
with a simple communion with Nature.
45
 Wordsworth’s attitude towards Nature is different from that of other Romantic poets. In
them we find that the poet’s joy or melancholy is transferred to natural objects or rather, a
selection is made of natural objects in which a sympathetic analogy can be traced and then
these objects are endowed with the appropriate mood. For Wordsworth, however. Nature has
her own life, a sense sublime, which also dwells in the mind of man. Mind and Nature always
act and react upon each other. It is a continuous process, consisting mainly of three phases,
the “glad animal moments’ of childhood, the “passions’ and ‘appetites’ of youth, and lastly
that serene and blessed mood in which mind and nature achieve complete harmony and “we
are laid asleep in body and become a living soul,”(Tintern Abbey). Nature thus plays an
active role in shaping the soul of man. So, in Wordsworth, we find that the great union of
Mind and Nature is consummated by a process of association which links up at every stage of
his life, experience and the experiencing self, leading from sensation to feeling, from feeling
to thought and then creating a union of all these faculties when the mighty world of eye and
ear ceases to exist; and the same sublime sense which dwells in Nature becomes coexistent
with the mind of man, and though the same impulse animates all objects and all thought, the
mind rises above the objects it contemplates to the creation of a moral being, a soul.
In Tintern Abbey and The Immortality Ode we experience this pilgrimage of the poet’s
soul inspired by Nature. We also realize the moral influence it exercises on him while
shaping his soul. The ‘still sad music of humanity’, and man’s inherited tendency to lose his
paradise haunts his songs.
Wordsworth’s concern for mankind’s slow march to doom with the growth of
industrialization and neglect of Nature can be felt in The World is Too Much with Us. This
shows that the poet Wordsworth is a man speaking to men and although he finds a temple for
himself, his main worry was the fate of mankind which was gradually drifting from that
temple.
The two poems we are going to study combine in them the essence of Wordsworth’s
poetic achievement and indicate the major milestone of the growth of his mind.

46
2. Tintern Abbey: The Poem

Lines Composed a Few Miles Above Tintern Abbey, On Revisiting the Banks of the
Wye During a Tour. July 13, 1798.

Five years have past; five summers, with the length

Of five long winters! and again I hear
These waters, rolling from their mountain-springs
With a soft inland murmur.—Once again
Do I behold these steep and lofty cliffs,
That on a wild secluded scene impress
Thoughts of more deep seclusion; and connect
The landscape with the quiet of the sky.
The day is come when I again repose
Here, under this dark sycamore, and view 10
These plots of cottage-ground, these orchard-tufts,
Which at this season, with their unripe fruits,
Are clad in one green hue, and lose themselves
'Mid groves and copses. Once again I see
These hedge-rows, hardly hedge-rows, little lines
Of sportive wood run wild: these pastoral farms,
Green to the very door; and wreaths of smoke
Sent up, in silence, from among the trees!
With some uncertain notice, as might seem
Of vagrant dwellers in the houseless woods,
Or of some Hermit's cave, where by his fire
The Hermit sits alone. 20

These beauteous forms,

Through a long absence, have not been to me
As is a landscape to a blind man’s eye !
But oft , in lonely rooms, arid ‘mid the din
Of towns and cities, I have owed to them,
In hours of weariness, sensations sweet,
Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart;
And passing even into my purer mind,
With tranquil restoration :- feelings too 30
Of unremembered pleasure: such perhaps,
As have no slight or trivial influence
On that best portion of a good man’s life,
His little, nameless, unremembered acts
Of kindness and of love. Nor less, I trust,
47
To them I may have owed another gift,
Of aspect more sublime; that blessed mood,
In which the burthen of the mystery,
In which the heavy and the weary weight
Of all this unintelligible world 40
Is lightened: that serene and blessed mood,
In which the affections gently lead us on,—
Until, the breath of this corporeal frame
And even the motion of our human blood
Almost suspended, we are laid asleep
In body, and become a living soul:
While with an eye made quiet by the power
Of harmony, and the deep power of joy,
We see into the life of things.

If this
Be but a vain belief, yet, oh ! how oft – 50
In darkness and amid the many shapes
Of joyless daylight; when the fretful stir
Unprofitable, and the fever of the world,
Have hung upon the beatings of my heart
How oft, in spirit, have I turned to thee,
O sylvan Wye ! thou wanderer thro’ the woods,
How often has my spirit turned to thee!

And now, with gleams of half-extinguished thought,

With many recognitions dim and faint,
And somewhat of a sad perplexity, 60
The picture of the mind revives again :
while here 1 stand, not only with the sense
Of present pleasure, but with pleasing thoughts
That in this moment there is life and food
For future years. And so I dare to hope,
Though changed, no doubt, from what I was when first
1 came among these hills; when like a roe
I bounded o’er the mountains, by the sides
Of the deep rivers, and the lonely streams,
Wherever nature led : more like a man 70
Flying from something that he dreads than one
Who sought the thing he loved. For nature then
(The coarser pleasures of my boyish days.

48
And their glad animal movements all gone by)
To me was all in all – I cannot paint
What then 1 was. The sounding cataract
Hunted me like a passion : the tall rock.
The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood.
Their colours and their forms, were then to me
An appetite; a feeling and a love, 80
That had no need of a remoter charm.
By thought supplied, nor any interest,
Unborrowed from the eye—That time is past.
And all its aching joys are now no more,
And all its dizzy raptures : Not for this
Faint I, nor mourn nor murmur; other gifts
Have followed; for such loss, I would believe,
Abundant recompense. For I have learned
To look on nature, not as in the hour
Of thoughtless youth; but hearing oftentimes 90
The still, sad music, of humanity,
Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power
To chasten and subdue. And I have felt
A presence that disturbs me with the joy
Of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime
Of something far more deeply interfused.
Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns,
And the round ocean and the living air.
And the blue sky. and in the mind of man:
A motion and a spirit, that impels 100
All thinking things, all objects of all thought,
And rolls through all things. Therefore am I still
A lover of the meadows and the woods.
And mountains; and all the mighty world
Of eye, and ear, –both what they half create,
And what perceive; well pleased to recognize
In nature and the language of the sense
The anchor of my purest thoughts, the nurse.
The guide, the guardian of my heart, and soul 110
Of all my moral being.

Nor perchance,
If I were nor thus taught, should 1 the more
Suffer my genial spirits to decay:

49
For thou art with me here upon the banks
Of this fair river; thou my dearest Friend,
My dear, dear Friend; and in thy voice I catch
The language of my former heart, and read
My former pleasures in the shooting lights
Of the wild eyes. Oh ! yet a little while
May I behold in thee what I was once.
My dear, dear Sister ! and this prayer I make,
Knowing that Nature never did betray
The heart that loved her :’ tis her privilege,
Through al! the years of this our life, to lead
From joy to joy; for she can so inform
The mind that is whin us, so impress
With quietness and beauty, and so feed
With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues,
Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men,
Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all
The dreary intercourse of daily life, 130
Shall e’er prevail against us, or disturb
Our cheerful faith, that all which we behold
Is full of blessings. Therefore let the moon
Shine on thee in thy solitary walk;
And let the misty mountain-winds be free
To blow against thee: and, in after years,
When these wild ecstasies shall be matured
Into a sober pleasure; when thy mind
Shall be a mansion for all lovely forms, 140
Thy memory be as a dwelling-place
For all sweet sounds and harmonies; oh ! then,
If solitude, or fear, or pain, or grief,
should be thy portion, with what healing thoughts
Of tender joy wilt thou remember me,
And these my exhortations ! Nor perchance-
If 1 should be where I no more can hear
Thy voice nor catch from thy wild eyes these gleams
Of past existence— wilt thou then forget
That on the banks of this delightful stream 150
We stood together; and that I. so long
A worshipper of Nature, hither came
Unwearied in that service: rather say
With warmer love-on ! with far deeper zeal

50
Of holier love. Nor wilt thou then forget
That after many wanderings, many years
Of absence, these steep woods and lofty cliffs,
And this green pastoral landscape, were to me
More dear, both for themselves and for thy sake !

51
3. Tintern Abbey: An Analysis
Tintern Abbey was composed on Friday, July 13, 1798. With this poem closed the
volume, Lyrical Ballads, a volume of poems written partly in collaboration with another
famous poet and Wordsworth’s friend Coleridge. It is not only a great poem of flawless and
noble beauty but also one of his most personal pieces, wrought from the his inmost mind and
heart. It sums up all that Nature, Man, and his own history meant for him in the light of his
own ripe thinking and impassioned observation, quickened by the constant companionship of
Coleridge and Dorothy.
Wordsworth and his sister Dorothy went to Bristol to see Lyrical Ballads through the
press. During their stay they made a tour on foot and by boat up the Wye valley to Tintern. At
Tintern Abbey Wordsworth recalled his visit there five years before in the tumultuous period
of revolutionary enthusiasm when war with France had lately broken out. He meditated on
the new quality he had found in Nature since that time. And as was usual with him,
meditation led to composition. Verses were forming in his head as he walked back to his
lodging near Bristol. The poem was written down, probably at Cottel, and added to the
volume already set up in type.
About the composition of this poem Wordsworth writes:
“No poem of mine was composed under circumstances more pleasant for me to
remember than this. I began it upon leaving Tintern, after crossing the Wye, and concluded it
just as I was entering Bristol in the evening, after a ramble of four or five days (Tuesday
10th-Friday 13th July) with my sister. Not a line of it was altered, and not any part of it
written down till I reached Bristol.”
3.1 Subject and Theme of the Poem
Wordsworth describes in Tintern Abbey his attitude to Nature at different stages of his
life-the “glad animal movements” of childhood, the “passions” and “appetites” of youth, and
lastly “that serene and blessed mood” when “we are laid asleep in body, and become a living
soul”.
Tintern Abbey is at once a Hymn of Praise, and a Confession of Faith. Nature is extolled
for she still enlarges her bounty to the measure of man’s growing needs:
“Knowing that Nature never did betray
The heart that loved her; it’s her privilege,
Through all the years of this our life, to lead
From joy to joy.”
Nature is described here as Man’s “prime teacher”, exercising a purifying influence on
him. It enables him to “see into the life of things”, and brings to him the sense of an all-
pervading spirit that “rolls through all things”. Wordsworth recognizes Nature as not merely
the guide of feeling and heart but also as the “soul of all his moral being”.

52
3.2 Summary
Wordsworth is revisiting Tintern Abbey, after five years. The setting is full of great
natural beauty and quietness. It is the same landscape as he had seen before. Only now he has
a more sober appreciation of it. The quiet scene gives rise to deep thoughts in his mind. The
steep hills and the poet’s own thoughts connect the landscape with the quiet of the sky. The
plots of cottage ground, the orchards with the green unripe fruits mixing easily with the
groves and bushes. The smoke going up in silence reminds the poet of some wanderers,
settled for the time being somewhere inside the woods, or of some holy man, sitting alone by
his fire.
The scenes haunted the poet’s mind even when he was away from them. They calmed his
mind in the midst of the fever and the fret of city life. They influenced him in his small acts
of kindness and love, such as a good man performs daily, almost unconsciously, forgetting
them soon afterwards. These forms of Nature have, moreover, brought to him spiritual
knowledge beyond the reach of the physical senses.
The river is addressed, as though it were a human being. The poet acknowledges the
happiness which its remembrance brought to him in days of despair. He knows, moreover,
that the memory of this scene will make him happy in the future also.
The poet in his early boyhood felt pure animal delight in roaming about in the mountains
by the riverside; with adolescence and youth, his passionate delight in Nature did not require
any promptings of a thoughtful mind. The pleasure was absolute and sensuous. He became
aware of unknown modes of being in Nature that disciplined his mind. With the passage of
time the poet loses that acute pleasure in Nature, but he gains something instead. In his
mature years he looks upon Nature as a manifestation of the divine spirit, which is present
everywhere in everything whether animate or inanimate. The poet now realizes the beauty
and the sadness of human life which has sobered him in his attitude to Nature. The realization
of this essential unity of all the universe, has given new dimensions to the love of Nature. The
beauty which enters the poet’s mind through his senses is further nourished by his
imagination. The poet acknowledges Nature as his teacher, guardian and friend, the source of
all his purest thoughts and the guide of his morality.
The poet’s sister Dorothy’s presence reminds him of his own youthful delight in Nature.
She is told that if ever in future she meets with any misfortune, Nature will surely come to
her aid. Nature never fails one who is really devoted to her, and fills his mind with joy and
tranquility. The poet affirms that the landscape is loved by him both for its own sake and
because it is associated with the presence of Dorothy.
In this way, we learn of the development of Wordsworth’s mind through this poem. In a
nutshell then the growth of the poet’s mind in his relationship with Nature has passed through
three stages.
 The first one related to the purely animal delight of his boyhood days.

53
  The second stage was of the poet’s adolescence and youth. At this stage he felt a
purely sensuous and passionate delight in Nature.
 Lastly, in his sober and mature years with his knowledge of human sorrow he
learnt to look upon Nature with a chastened and subdued spirit. He came to
realize that Nature is infused with the divine spirit that pervades everything,
animate or inanimate.
He acknowledges his debt to Nature and regards her as his friend, philosopher and guide,
the unfailing fountain of his mental peace and the source of his spiritual knowledge of the
ultimate reality. And thus the poem is rounded off with a hymn sung in praise of Nature, the
object of this total devotion.

4. Detailed Analysis of the Poem

4.1 Stanza I (Lines 1-21)
Wordsworth is revisiting Tintern Abbey after five years ‘five summers’ and five long
winters!’ By using the words ‘revisiting’ and ‘five long winters ’ the poet invites us to share
with him some very crucial and important moments of his life. Whenever we revisit a place
we start travelling back in time. Our memory is activated and it activates our awareness of
our present and confronts it with the recollection of our past. It keeps on uniting as well as
contrasting our present with our past. The revisit is always a value-based probe to determine
whether our living-coefficient has grown or declined. The seriousness of this confrontation of
past and present and the gravity of the consequent value-based probe depends upon many
factors. It depends upon the experiences of the life spent during this interval (the phrase ‘five
long winters!’) thus becomes significant and the sign of exclamation makes the agony of the
winter more poignant. It depends upon the mood when he first visited the place and the
nature of impressions it then left on his mind and it depends upon the present mood, the
reasons which have persuaded him to revisit the place and the expectations with which he is
revisiting it. All this is a very common human experience. That is why 1 consider that by
using the words ‘revisiting” and ‘five long years!” Wordsworth has invited us to share his
poetic experience and to join ‘r his value-based probe which raises a big question, his
capacity to live life has increased or decreased. Life is a very relative term but to all
discerning and sensitive persons it means living meaningfully in harmony with the universe
outside.
The revisit begins when the poet says ‘again I hear’ The poet catalogues all the
components of the landscape just to reassure himself. By saying ‘again’ (2) or ‘once again’
(1,4,9 and 14) the poet is trying to re-establish his “I-thou” relationship with Nature. His first
contact with the landscape or his revisit is auditory. Leaving behind the ‘din’ of the city life,
he now hears ‘the soft inland murmur’ of ‘these waters rolling down from their mountain
springs. It is a soft inland-murmur since the poet is still outside the scene. The scene is not
within his visual grasp. But the ‘din’ of cities is annihilated. The visual communication is

54
soon established when the poet beholds the lofty cliffs which ‘connect the land-scape with the
quiet of the sky”.
‘The “quiet of the sky’ (L.8) is perhaps the most significant phrase in the poem.
Wordsworth, in the days when he was composing his first great poem in all those
teachings which are most his own, was frequently a quietist, “Not for him the heaven
of dance and song of Milton’s saintly shout... Nowhere more magnificently than in
Tintern Abbey does Wordsworth’s imagery express this quietist phase of his
philosophy. The greatly not-to-be desired life of the cities is characterized by din. The
nature which in his earlier days had aroused in him dizzy raptures had spoken through
the sounding cataract. Now in the valley of the Wye upon his second visit the sounds
are less insistent... Indeed in the imagery of the poem there are two progressions to
quiet rather than just one : from din to murmur to silence, and from human life to
vegetable life to the cliff and sky’ (James Benziger, ‘Tintern Abbey Revisited’ in
Wordsworth : Lyrical Ballads: A Casebook, 1987, pp 238-39)
The auditory communication indicates a moment of descent and the visual communication
indicates a movement of ascent. The entire poem is one long record of these moods of ascent
and descent which alternate with each other and help the poet to see visions of his romantic
ideas without losing grasp over the reality.
The ‘steep and lofty cliffs’ perform two functions simultaneously. They elevate the poet
from his horizontal plane of reality to a vertical plane of ‘thoughts of more deep seclusion’
and they also ‘connect’ the landscape with the ‘quiet of the sky’ Thus we perceive there are
two movements in the poem as the poet describes the landscape, the movement of his
physical eye and the movement of ‘inward eye’; the eye of his soul. His physical eye reminds
him of his earthly reality and his inward eye craves for ‘the quiet of the sky’.
We see a harmony is established between the landscape, the mind of the man and the
quiet of the sky. This is the great Cosmic Harmony, Wordsworth now ‘reposes’ (19) and
‘views’ (10) the same harmony on the horizontal plane. The ‘cottage ground’ the ‘orchard-
tufts’ and ‘groves and copses’ all lose their individual identities and get dressed in the same
green garment.
The world of man, of pastoral farms and plots of cottage grounds merges gently
through orchard and hedge-row, into Nature’s copses and woodland. And the world of
organic nature, by way of lofty cliffs, merges gently with the inorganic ‘quiet of the
sky’- with what is surely a symbol of the Divine Quiet, the Eternal Silence as it is called
in the Ode on Intimations. (James Benziger, ‘Tintern Abbey Revisited’ p.237)
The hedge-rows which divide man’s cultivation from Nature’s groves and copses now
lose their identity. They ‘are little lines’/of sportive wood run wild.’ They also celebrate this
union between Man and Nature. It is the green grass which covers the entire universe
beginning from the doors of man’s cottage and travelling right up to steep and lofty cliffs.
Grass and its greenness, the humblest child of the earth, is symbolic of peace and protection.

55
Grass, the primordial upward movement of the earth, brings about a cosmic unity in the
valley. The first seventeen lines which celebrate the poet’s visit to Tintern Abbey after a gap
of five long years are soaked in atmosphere of peace, tranquility. calm and harmony inspiring
in the poet thoughts of more deep seclusion and deeper realization of Nature and its Oneness.
The poet first hears the waters rolling down, then he beholds the steep mountain cliffs
which impress upon him thoughts of more deep seclusion. The poet then reposes and views a
cosmic harmony. The poet so far is a passive receiver of certain sensations and impressions
which are tranquil and speak of harmony. But when the poet comes to hedge rows and
smokes, the poet sees (14). Seeing is different from hearing, beholding, reposing and viewing
when you see you not only behold and view but also interpret. That is what the poet does
when he says ‘once again I see’. The hedge-rows he imagines are not dividing woods from
the cultivated land. They are uniting man with nature and they run wild with happiness in this
game of theirs. Then there is a smoke among the ‘trees’! The Poet is rightly surprised when
he says ‘sent up’ in silence. The words ‘sent up” and ‘silence’ contrast this smoke with the
industrial smoke of the cities which is always associated with noise and being heavier than air
always falls down. But this smoke, a product of silence is moving heavenwards, to join the
‘quiet of the sky’. The poet is not sure of their source that is why he uses the words,
‘uncertain notice’, and “might seem”. The poet’s imagination traces the smoke to the activity
of some vagrant dwellers or to a lonely Hermit who is sitting by his fire all alone in a cave.
The stanza begins with a great cosmic unity of Nature, uniting man and ‘quiet of the sky’ and
ends in a solitary human activity.
We must observe that the landscape description of stanza I is far less purely objective
than might be thought on a purely superficial reading. The strong sensory assertions (‘I hear’,
‘I behold’, ‘I see”) unexpectedly lead to somewhat dubious statement that the smoke - which
the poet does ‘see’ - gives : Some uncertain notice, as might seem, ‘Of vagrant dwellers in
the houseless woods /Or of some hermit’s cave, where by his fire / The Hermit sits alone.’
In a way, this intimation of human presence brings the landscape description to a climax.
Wordsworth had endowed the conventional eighteenth century hermit with a significance that
goes beyond the merely picturesque: his solitariness exemplify the highest form of
contemplation and wisdom; they are men stripped of all un-essentials, living in intimate
communion with nature. Thus the hermit in his cave carries a faint suggestion of human
ideals towards which Wordsworth was striving at that time, and which he was to define with
greater assurance in later poems. (Albert S. Gerard : Exploring Tintern Abbey, Critics On
Wordsworth. (Universal Book Stall, New Delhi, pp. 60-61).
Study Notes
2. of five long winters! : The adjective ‘long’ lends a subjective colour to an objective
description of the landscape. Winter symbolizes lack of warmth, read stanza II (25). The sign
of exclamation emphasizes the poet’s personal loss and complaint during five years of
separation which include five long winters.

56
 2. again I hear : The poet is visiting the place once again and his first contact with the
landscape is auditory.
3. inland : from within the valley. The poet is still at a distance.
6. wild : untamed, here means a place which has not been urbanized or industrialized.
The poet has a special dislike for cities and towns. Read stanza II and III.
6. secluded : A secluded place is quiet, private and undisturbed.
7. thoughts of more deep seclusion : thoughts which have nothing to do with ordinary
routine life of cities which to the poet mean only a ‘fretful stir’ (stanza III 1. 52)
6-8. steep and lofty.... quiet of the sky : The lines reflect, the poet’s emotional response
to the scene. The steep and lofty cliffs perform two functions. They connect the horizontal
landscape with the ‘quiet of the sky’ and also lift the poet’s mind to great heights.
8. quiet of the sky : The poem is a journey from the noise of cities to the ‘quiet of the
sky’. It is a gradual ascent from noise to soft inland murmur and ultimately to ‘quiet of the
sky’ which according to some critics is a symbol of the Divine Quiet, the Eternal Silence as it
is called in The Immortality Ode.
11-18 These plots of cottage... very door : The world of man of pastoral forms and plots
of cottage ground merges gently, through orchard and hedgerow, into Nature’s copses and
woodland, and the world of organic nature by way of the lofty cliffs, merges gently with the
inorganic ‘quiet of the sky’.
13. One green line : green symbolizes peace and protection. The words again I hear (1.2)
once again/Do 1 behold (4-5), I again repose, view (9-10) and once again 1 see describe
Wordsworth’s personal mood as he describes the great landscape and its Great cosmic
harmony.
17-18 -sent up in silence....the trees!: The use of passive voice (sent up) denotes a
human activity. The sign of exclamation (the trees!) emphasizes the poet’s surprise at the
presence of human life among the trees and contrasts Wordsworth’s personal loneliness of
five long winters with the loneliness of ‘The Hermit’ or the ‘vagrant dwellers. Wordsworth is
surprised by the presence of life among ‘trees’! and is compelled to compare his personal
loneliness of five long winters’ with the loneliness experienced by the person or persons
living in the lap of this Great cosmic harmony. Perhaps the loneliness among the trees reflects
what Wordsworth later calls the ‘still, sad music of humanity.’ The two signs of exclamations
in stanza 1 symbolize two kinds of loneliness. The loneliness of the cities which is a
compulsion forced by the society (which means cities divorced from nature) and the
loneliness of the wild secluded landscape which is a refuge and shelter.
19. uncertain notice... might seem : So far Wordsworth has been sure of what he is
describing. He has been using the words, ‘1 hear’, ‘behold’, ‘see’ but when it comes to a
human activity Wordsworth suddenly switches to conjecture. The phrases ‘uncertain notice’
and ‘might seem’ show that while describing nature Wordsworth is certain but while
57
describing a human activity or a human condition Wordsworth can only guess. Wordsworth
had a great fascination for these ‘solitaries’ (The Solitary Reaper’, ‘Resolution and
Independence’) and he always tried to guess what they sang or said but the mood is always of
great tragedy which is at once chaste and chastening.
20. Of vagrant dwellers... woods : houseless woods express Wordsworth’s dislike for
urbanization or cities which are full of houses, housing lifeless people or all the forces which
are inimical to nature. That is why they become homes for “vagrant dwellers’, persons who
refuse to adopt city and its ways or to Hermits who know the significance of ‘the quiet of the
sky’.
21. Hermit: a hermit is a person who lives alone with a very simple lifestyle away from
people and normal society, especially for religious reasons. That is why perhaps Wordsworth
uses a capital letter for Hermit.
4.2 Stanza II (Lines 23-50)
Five Years Separation
The poet now speaks of the five years which separated him from Tintern Abbey. He says
these ‘beauteous forms were never absent from his mind’s eye all those years. The stanza is a
tribute to the beauty of Tintern Abbey, their influence on his mind, and the role of memory
which always recreated those ‘beauteous forms’ for him whenever he required them. The
memory thus contrasts the actual physical return to Tintern Abbey of Stanza I with the mental
returns which he experienced while he was far away from it, alone in the ‘lonely rooms’ of
cities. These lines also contrast the condition of the “Vagrant dwellers” and the lonely
‘Hermit’ with that of the lonely poet. The vagrant dwellers and the lonely Hermit are living in
peace, in harmony with nature whereas the lonely poet is vainly struggling with burden of
city life even though the memory of these ‘beauteous forms’ always comes to his rescue. The
‘I-thou’ relationship made unreflectingly with the landscape is refreshingly retained by the
memory. The memory of these beauteous forms healed him not only physically but induced
in him certain sweet sensations which he could feel in his blood and heart and these
sensations travelled to his purer mind, restoring in him a unique tranquility. This tranquility
in its train brought feelings of unremembered pleasures. The poet calls them ‘unremembered’
since they are ordinary or routine pleasures. But they are very significant, since it is these
pleasures which spring into ‘little nameless’ acts of kindness and love and which constitute
the best part of a good man’s life. The poet is struggling with the weariness caused by the din
of cities. These ‘beauteous forms’ induce in him a tranquil restoration. This sensation is
transformed into a feeling of a pleasure. This pleasure governs the best part of a good man’s
life. The memory of the scene becomes more important than the actual scene itself. The ‘
Vagrant dweller ‘ or the Hermit in the cave living away from man-kind (although living in
the lap of nature) cannot experience these little acts of love and kindness. The poet now
remembers another debt which he owes to the memory of these “beauteous forms’. He recalls
a phenomenon almost supernatural and mystical in its nature, of a ‘blessed mood’, of some

58
‘sublime’ moments, when ‘the mystery of this unintelligible world’, the ‘vast unknown’, was
suddenly revealed to him and he felt intensely relieved. But the poet is not very certain
whether these moments were inspired by these beauteous forms:
... Nor less, I trust,
To them I may have owed another gift (31 -32)
His physical self is now laid asleep to cut the barriers which the body creates between
man and man, and man and Nature. So profound and enormous was the impact of ‘this
blessed mood’, that he felt that he ceased to live physically and became ‘a living soul’. The
soul, the essence of being which is common to all living things and ‘the life of things’
dictates his entire being. In these moments the eye is ‘made quiet’ by the power of harmony
and the deep power of joy. Remember the significance the poet attaches to ‘the quiet of the
sky’ in Stanza I.
The journey begins from Tintern Abbey and its harmony and its lonely Hermit and takes
him back to the lonely rooms of the cities where the money of the Tintern Abbey restores him
from the fatigue caused by the din of the city life. The tranquility achieved is transformed
into a feeling which accounts for the best portion of a good man’s life. And this good man he
ardently hopes is in the ‘blessed mood’ transformed into a lonely Hermit of the cities who
understands the mystery of this universe and the ‘quiet of his eye’ need not view and interpret
‘the life of things’ since it sees through them.
As Wordsworth turns from an objective symbolical description of external nature to an
analysis of his inner self, nature appears as the main causal factor in his moral evolution.
The first sentence deals with two ‘gifts’- ‘sensations’ and ‘feelings’ which are presented
as undoubtedly originating in nature. It also deals with the psychological and moral
consequences of those gifts: in the first case the sensations, sweet have wrought a ‘tranquil
restoration’ of the poet’s ‘purer mind’; in the second, a note of diffidence creeps in as
Wordsworth passes from the psychological to the moral plane: his feelings of un-remembered
pleasures have perhaps led him to ‘acts of kindness and love. There is thus a gradual ascent
from the sensory to the psychological and moral; on the other hand, slight undertones of
doubt are introduced in the passage from the psychological to the ethical.
This pattern is reproduced and developed in the second sentence: besides the sensations
and feelings, Wordsworth’s recollections of nature have also kindled in him a blessed mood;
this mood is described as such at great length and with considerable eloquence. As put by
Albert Gerard:
. . . the stanza reveals a three-fold change in the tone and subject matter: first a
raising of the level of reminiscence, which now passes from ethical to the mystical;
second a heightened poetic intensity which makes the passage particularly memorable
and eminently quotable; third an increase in the note of diffidence exemplified by the

59
 words ‘I trust’, and ‘may’. (Albert S. Gerard : Exploring Tintern Abbey, Universal Book
Stall, New Delhi, pp. 66-67)
Study Notes
22-23. ‘beauteous forms ... long absence’ : Remember ‘long winters! ‘in stanza I.
24. ‘As is a landscape ... blind man’s eye’ : Wordsworth attached great importance to the
faculty of sight. One can refuse to listen, smell, touch or taste but one cannot refuse to see.
Visual impressions get embedded in one’s mind. It is through these visual impressions that a
person animates his present with his past. Wordsworth is celebrating the role of memory. A
blind man’s memory and his imagination perhaps works differently.
25. ‘mid the din of towns and cities’ : Wordsworth equated cities with “din”, a
meaningless noise. These are the two ro’tey of life “the quiet of the sky and” the din of cities.
26-30 ‘... I have owed to them .... tranquil restoration’ : After a period of five years to
witness this great majesty and cosmic harmony he now tries to recollect the role played by
the memory of ‘these beauteous forms’. The first impact of their memory induced in him a
‘tranquil restoration’. He begins to receive ‘sweet sensations’, which fight him out of the
‘din’ hours of weariness’ and bathe him in a tranquil restoration.
31. ‘Unremembered pleasure’ : Small ordinary pleasures, which come and pass away
unnoticed without becoming a part of one’s memory unlike great happy events (like the visit
to Tintern Abbey) which stayed in his mind.
30-35. ‘feeling too ... of kindness and love’ : The second impact of the memory is
psychological. The memory of the valley used to uplift him morally and make him do little
acts of kindness and love in his daily life, A man is good not because of some great things he
does for the entire mankind but for his little acts of kindness and love in his everyday life
while dealing with other men. (Read Wordsworth’s complaint in stanza V. ‘Nor greetings
where no kindness is’ 130). It is these acts which account for the “best portion of a good
man’s life’.
35-36. ‘nor less, I trust... To them I may ... of aspect more sublime’ : The words ‘trust’
and ‘may’ depict a note of diffidence and uncertainty. Wordsworth was very certain when he
was describing the sensory or psychological impact. But when he talks of aspect more
sublime, he is not certain whether the memory of the Wye was responsible for this gift.
39-41. ‘The burthen of mystery ... lightened’ : One gets awakened to the very essence of
life and its meanings and the mystery of life is revealed to us.
43. Corporeal: means involving or relating to the physical world rather than the spiritual
world.
48. ‘an eye made quiet’: an eye which sees and understands and not an eye which sees,
reacts, interprets and records accordingly. An eye which sees and becomes at once attuned to
what it sees. There is no difference between the image and the object.

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 41-49. ‘The serene and blessed mood ... into the life of things’: The poet now achieves a
trance-like state in which all the physical functions which separate man from man and man
from nature are suspended. Only the soul dictates. ‘This living soul’ with ‘an eye made quiet’
can understand and see ‘into the life of things’. The entire green landscape which gets
connected with ‘the quiet of the sky’ in stanza I gets embodied in his ‘living soul” through
the ‘eye made quiet’.
4.3 Stanza III (Lines 50-57)
The Blessed Memory
Stanza III begins with a note of doubt. If this ‘Be but a vain belief that those ‘beauteous
forms could inspire in him a ‘blessed mood’ in which the mystery of the ‘unintelligible
world’ was revealed to him and he could ‘see into the life of things’, then he is grateful to the
memory of the river Wye for many other comforts. He now addresses the river Wye, the
Wanderer of woods as if it were a living person and recalls the various occasions when it
brought relief to his troubled soul. He talks of his frustrated moments of despair and
confusion, his fruitless struggles for existence and the fever which such useless daily worldly
struggles inflict upon his body and mind. His spirit, on all such desperate moments turned to
the memory of river Wye and he felt cured. In stanza I he describes the great cosmic harmony
of the landscape. In stanza 11 he celebrates the memory of this harmony. There is a lingering
doubt whether this memory is also responsible for certain mystical moments in which he
could see into the life of things. That is why the lines 37-48 which describe his great trance-
like experience begin with ‘Nor less. I trust’1! ‘To them 1 may have owed another gift (35-
36). And in stanza III he confirms his suspicion when he says ‘If this/Be but a vain belief”.
He then recalls the numerous ways in which the memory of the river Wye had been helping
him physically in his hours of meaning less distress.
Study Notes
50. vain : empty
52. joyless daylight: It is the daylight (or light) which enables us to see. It becomes a
joyless daylight since we are not pleased to see what we see. Seeing becomes a mechanical
ritual. (See ‘light of the common day’, in The Immortality Ode in stanza V).
51-52. ‘many shapes....daylight’: The various moods of the day from dawn to sunset are
all joyless, since they are all meaningless. Cities express, the same fever from morning till
evening.
52. fretful stir : an unhappy struggle
54. ‘have hung ....heart’: They have weighed upon the free movements of my heart.
They did not allow my heart to pulsate naturally,
56. Sylvan : belonging to woods and trees

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 56-57 : ‘O Sylvan Wye !.... thee!’: The memory of the Sylvan Wye always came to his
rescue in his moments of meaningless ‘fretful stir’ and ‘the fever of the world’. The lines
contain two signs of exclamations. Remember the earlier signs of exclamations (long winters
! and trees’). The poet finds a solution for his loneliness, caused by the wintery fever of the
cities’ ‘din’ in the memory of Sylvan Wye! and not in the inspired moments in which he sees
into ‘the life of things’. That is why the ‘Sylvan Wye’! and thee ! become more important
inspite of the ‘blessed’ ‘mood’ and ‘living soul’. The natural conclusion is that the blessed
mood did not cure him of the fever of the world and hence his spirit depends once again upon
the memory of the Sylvan Wye.
4.4 Stanza IV (Lines 58-111)
His Loss and His Gain
In this stanza Wordsworth discusses his immediate present - ‘And now’ (58) This ‘now’
is very significant. It is kindled by the gleams of half-extinguished thought, and contains
‘many recognitions but they are dim and faint. The poet’s problem is that he does not know
why and how the thought was half-extinguished. He wants to know what made the
recognitions dim and faint. That is why, the’ now’ is pregnant with a ‘sad perplexity’. The
poet hopefully believes that Nature will continue to be a source of comfort in his future years.
“And so I dare to hope/though changed, no doubt from what I was’ (165-66) But his present
pleasure is only a pleasing thought. The word ‘sad perplexity’ describes the tragic dilemma of
his mood and compels him to contrast his entire past with his present. As a boy his love for
nature was simply physical. He enjoyed nature with the unthinking delight of a healthy child
whose playground she was. The second stage was reached at the time of his first visit to Wye
in 1793 (“Five years have passed”) like a roe he ran along the rivers, across the mountains
wherever Nature could lead him. His efforts were more like that of a man who is seeking
escape from something he fears, rather than those of a person who is finding pleasure in
something he likes. This passionate love for nature which involved only his physical being
was an attempt to run away from something sinister. The sounding cataract, the tall rock, the
mountain, the deep and gloomy wood, all thrilled him with a physical appetite, a feeling that
amounted to sensuous love for all those objects. This physical pleasure never involved his
mind or stirred his imagination. The time of maddening physical raptures and aching joy is
over. He is a changed man and he does not react to Nature the way he used to. But he does
not weep over this loss. This loss has been more than compensated. But the words ‘I would
believe’ (87) remind us of his sad perplexity. The words ‘I would believe’ and ‘I have
learned’ (88) provide us with the reason of his sad perplexity. This uncertainty regarding the
role of Nature was seen earlier also in stanza II, ‘Nor less 1 trust/To them I may have’ (35-
36). Whenever the poet is transported into a ‘blessed mood’ of sense sublime,’ the poet is
perplexed. He has learnt to look upon Nature differently. He has grown out of his thoughtless
youth and hears in Nature the ‘still, sad music of humanity,’ which is not harsh enough to
compel him to revolt but is sufficient to chasten and tone down his physical delight. He does
not attempt to run away from the still sad music of mankind and seek selfish refuge in Nature

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which he did in his first visit. The healing influence of Nature (i.e. of its memory) during his
hours of darkness and despair before he visits Tintern Abbey again has enlarged his vision
and chastened his pleasures. The poet now feels in Nature the presence of a spirit, a being
which kindles him with the joy of elevated thoughts. Nature is no more a physical
manifestation of certain beautiful objects which inspire sweet sensations. It is a sublime
spirit, a holy being which he feels everywhere in the light of setting suns, the round ocean,
the blue sky and also in the mind of man. The realization of the essential Oneness of mind of
Man and Nature of all living things, all objects of all thought gives a new dimension to his
love for Nature. The poet in this elevated mood reaffirms his love for Nature in all its
manifestations, all that we behold from this green earth, meadows, woods and mountains.
The physical harmony of stanza I of the greenest of the landscape with the ‘quiet of sky’ now
becomes spiritual harmony. The mighty world of eye and ear is always imbibing what it sees.
There is a continuous mating between the senses and the objects of sense. The mighty world
of eye and ear ‘half creates what it perceives. What is half created is recreated when he
transforms his perceptions into thoughts, and nature thus becomes the anchor of his purest
thoughts. In his reaffirmation of his faith in nature, he feels Nature is his nurse, the guide, the
guardian of his heart and the ‘soul of all my moral being.’
There is an unobtrusive correspondence between ‘the sensations’, ‘the feelings’ and ‘the
gift of aspect more sublime’ of stanza II on the one hand and the ‘glad animal movements’,
the ‘passion’ and the ‘other gifts’ of stanza IV on the other.
His sad perplexity anticipates another kind of uncertainty, which is the subject of stanza
IV and which is concerned with his valuation of changes -the losses and the new gifts which
time has wrought in him. In those introductory lines, past, present and future are closely
correlated; so are the sadness and pleasure. The reason for the sadness and perplexity is the
plain fact that his pleasing thoughts : ‘That in this moment there is life and food For future
years’, although deduced from his past experience are less assured than the tranquil, self-
possessed praising might suggest: they are not more than a ‘hope’ which the poet dares to
entertain.
As the poet contrasts what he is with what he was. we again notice the three stage
ascending travel already perceived in stanza II; from ‘the glad animal movements’ of .
his boyhood through the passionate love of natural forms characteristic of his youth
to the more thoughtful attitude of his early maturity. But in this respect too, the
repetition is incremental: the ascending movement, we might say, takes us higher up
in stanza IV than in stanza II. It takes to a more sweeping vision of cosmic unity. In
the former passage, the poet merely ‘sees’ into the life of things; in the latter, man is
included in his vision and the life of things is seen to reside in an all-pervading
presence, which is described in grandiose terms with an animistic or pantheistic
slant.
In the last lines of stanza IV Wordsworth epitomizes the three aspects of the grand
vision that is inspiring him, i.e. (a) his mystical sense of the unity that brings together the
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multifarious forms of the cosmos (‘all thinking things, all objects of all thought’) (b) his
conviction that the source of man’s moral or spiritual growth is to be found in all the external
forms of nature (‘all that we behold, all the mighty world of eye and ear’) and (c) his
correlative assurance that Nature acts on the whole of man’s personality (‘sense, thoughts,
heart, soul, and moral being’). [Albert S. Gerard, Exploring Tintern Abbey. Critics on
Wordsworth, Universal Book Depot. New Delhi), pp. 62-64].
Study Notes
58. And now : The poet so far has been telling us what the memory of the river Wye has
been doing for him for five years after he first visited Tintern Abbey. When Wordsworth says
‘And now’, he suddenly turns to his immediate present. ‘And now’.... the picture of the mind
revives again’ (61) in the picture retained by his memory which gains new life when
Wordsworth stands once again in the Wye valley.
58. gleams : if an object or surface gleams, it reflects light because it is shining and
clean
58. half-distinguished thoughts : thoughts which have lost half their significance.
59. ‘recognitions dim and faint’.: Wordsworth’s response to landscape especially when
he compares it with its memory, is not very sharp and bright.
60. sad perplexity : the poet is sadly confused and worried. There is a confusion in
stanza I when the poet is not sure of the source of the smoke’s origin. The poet is confused in
stanza II when before talking about the blessed mood he says ‘Nor less, I trust/To them I may
have owed another gift’..... and confusion travels to stanza III when he says ‘If this/Be but a
vain belief.’
In stanza IV when he talks of ‘now,’ the confusion haunts him all the more and acquires
a tragic dimension - this confusion lies in his fear whether nature will continue to inspire him
in the same way, for in lines 111- 14 (‘Nor perchance if I were not thus taught’) the poet
almost confesses that Nature has stopped teaching him.
61. revives again : The use of word ‘again’ is in continuation of stanza I where ‘again I
hear’ once again/ Do I behold’. ‘again repose and ‘once again I see ‘ were used to describe
the landscape. Here it is used to describe his present mental landscape.
63-67. ‘With pleasing thoughts... came among these hills’ : The poet does not allow this
‘sad perplexity’ to destroy his present pleasure. He even becomes optimistic that this present
moment will be good for his future years in the same way as his first visit helped him for five
long years, but he only ‘dares to hope’ so (65) and he confesses that on his second visit he
finds himself a changed person. The significance of this present moment will be more clear in
stanza V, Wordsworth hopes that the scene will provide not only immediate pleasure, ‘but
life and food/for future years’. And this hope is entertained in spite of the knowledge that his
earlier and more spontaneous joy of nature - a joy which was passionate and unreflecting, has
been left behind with the growth of a new mode of feeling.

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 70. ‘Wherever nature led’ : all his movements and reflexes were controlled by nature.
70. bounded over: frisked about; leaped about.
73. Flying from something: the fear that Nature inspires rather than the love she instils.
74-85. When the poet first came to the valley there was a passionate zeal and intense
desire for the objects of nature. The falling water, the dark forest and the lofty mountains
inspired in him a spontaneous fccling of love. He loved the objects of Nature for their own
sake.
76 coarser pleasures: his delight in the sights and sounds of Nature was dominated by the
animal instinct of physical enjoyment.
75-76. I cannot... I was : Wordsworth is afraid to contrast his present self with what he
was. Perhaps it involves immense pain and is one of the reasons for his sad perplexity (70).
76. the sounding cataract: The cataract was sounding in 1793 and today it is the soft
inland murmur ‘(4)
80-81. ‘remoter charm ..... supplied’ : The physical gratification was so complete and
fulfilling that he never had to resort to spiritual pleasures which are provided by elevated and
inspired thoughts. Read stanza I (7) ‘thoughts of more deep seclusion’ and stanza II (41) ‘that
serene and blessed mood’.
83. unborrowed from eye .... : The physical visual pleasure provided by the beauty of
Nature was consummate and complete and it was never accompanied by elevated thoughts.
There was no need for him to stir his mind.
83. That time is past... dizzy raptures : Wordsworth begins this stanza with the words
‘And now’. His life. not only of ‘the five years” interval about which he talked m stanza II &
III and in which restoration was mixed with some transcendental moods but his entire life-
span gets sandwiched between (58-60) and That time is past ... dizzy raptures (83-85); The
poem has moved through one complete circle of his life which begins with ‘coarser
pleasures’ and moves on to dizzy ‘raptures’ and ends in a ‘sad perplexity.’ The poem does
not grow in such a linear manner or we can say that the timewise growth of the poem is not
chronological or historical. There is double time in the poem, the inner time i.e. the time
which describes the movements of his inward eye and the physical time which says that he is
five years older and different. ‘In counterpoint to this outer time, is the inner time which
makes the experience of the poet’s visit recoverable in the memory. It is a time which is not
homogeneous’.... but is full of ups and downs of ascents and descents.
87. ‘I would believe’ : Wordsworth is not certain of what he is saying. The poet is not
certain whether nature is really responsible for this ‘abundant recompense’. This confusion is
there in the earlier stanza also and perhaps accounts for his sad perplexity.
88. ‘I have learnt’ : Wordsworth does not elaborate this learning process, he does not say
whether nature taught him and therefore he learnt or certain other things made him learn to

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look upon nature differently from what he used to do. The poem now ushers in a different
phase and acquires a new dimension.
88-93. ‘For I have learnt... chasten and subdue’ : The still sad music of mankind is not
harsh and jarring. It does not make him revolt because this music is the ultimate fate of all
men or Mankind, therefore the music is ‘still,’ (remember the phrase ‘quiet’ of the sky and
Hermit with capital H in stanza I) and it has a chastening effect. This is a mood of resignation
and simultaneously a mood of universal sympathy.
93-99. ‘And I have felt... in the mind of man’ : This is the second ascent of the poet’s
mind - the first ascent is seen in stanza II where he can see into the life of things. In this
second ascent of the mind the things get rarefied. He feels a special ‘presence deeply
interfused’ and its dwelling place is the light of setting suns, the round ocean, the living air
and the ‘blue sky’ and ‘in the mind of man.’ All these places are animated by this special
presence, or a ‘living soul’ but they are living silently (Remember the emphasis on ‘quiet’ in
stanza I and his dislike, for ‘din’ in stanza II) and without any turbulence. The second ascent
of mind in stanza IV is different from that of stanza II in the sense that it includes mankind,
the ‘universal mind of man’ and not the mind of an individual though all this happens in the
mind of an individual, the poet Wordsworth.
100-102. ‘A motion ... all things’ : There is great emphasis on the ‘All( ness)’ of the
universe and this all(ness) is vibrated though a motion and a spirit. “Both motion in the
physical world and spirit in the mental world that which not only prompts the thoughts of
men but also sustains the laws (of gravity) by which all objects move; and which therefore is
doubly present in all experience (rolls through all things).
102. Still : despite the loss and despite his uncertainty regarding the source which
compensates this loss, he still maintains his relationship with nature since it can still animate
his present with his past by activating his memory.
102-106. ‘Therefore I am ... and ear’ : This reminds us of Stanza I, ‘The steep and lofty
cliffs’, ‘the ... cottage ground ‘all clad in one green line’ and ‘the quiet of the sky’ The only
difference is that the great cosmic unity of the stanza I is here invested with a living presence
and includes the mind of man.
106-107. ‘both what they half create and what perceive’ : Take in at once the landscape
of the world ... and half create the wondrous world they see.
109. ‘anchor of my purest thoughts’ : Nature becomes the anchor of his purest thoughts.
111. ‘Soul of all my moral being’ : In Stanza II, III, IV Wordsworth lives on two planes.
He talks of lonely rooms’ and ‘fever of the world’. He also talks of ‘life of things’ of a
presence which unites the ‘life of things’ with the ‘mind of man’. Wordsworth, here, is more
concerned with his moral being, an elevated self which sees beyond his personal problems
into ‘the still sad music of mankind’. Nature is the soul of all his moral being. The word ‘all’
includes world of nature and the world of man.

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4.5 Stanza V (112-159)
Brother-Sister and Mother Nature
Wordsworth feels obliged that but for the education given to him by Nature the pain
being inflicted by the gradual decay of his genial powers would have been unbearable. The
rest of the poem is addressed to his sister Dorothy who is accompanying him on the present
tour, Wordsworth sees in his sister Dorothy his earlier self. Her voice, the shooting lights of
her eyes, express the same delight that he experienced on his earlier visit He assures her that
Nature never fails a person who is devoted to her. By reliving his past in his sister,
Wordsworth is trying to assure himself that Nature never betrays. Nature continues to teach
and elevate a person to higher levels of happiness. Nature will always help her in her hours of
darkness and despair during the dreary intercourse of daily life and the belief that all we
behold in nature is full of blessings will be more firmly rooted. While talking to his sister.
Wordsworth is again meditating over what he has gained and lost during the five years: the
five years which separate the two visits. The presence of Dorothy (on this second occasion)
who is almost an image of his former self dramatically juxtaposes the two visions and
recreates the tortuous but sacred Pilgrimage which his soul undertook during these five years.
He prays the same benign influence should smile on Dorothy He hopes that for her …
ecstasies should be matured into a sublime-pleasure. Here he again emphasizes the role of
memory which is the ‘sacred’ dwelling place for all sweet sounds of harmonies’ and always
comes to the rescue of a person in his hours of despair and agony and elevates him with the
healing thoughts of tender joy. ‘Wordsworth while exhorting his sister is recapitulating his
personal experience and unconsciously seeking shelter in his love for Dorothy. That is why
the elevated moods of stanza II and IV are suddenly substituted by his dear dear, friend. He
finds his past reflected in her eyes and he wants his present to be Dorothy’s future.
Remember Dorothy was not a child as it appears in this stanza. Dorothy was only two
years younger to him. On his second visit when he finds that his response to the great
landscape is no longer the same, and though he tries to reassure himself that the loss has been
more than compensated, yet his need for her love suddenly becomes more intense. That is
why he wants to share his present mood with her. He wants her to remember that they stood
together on the bank of this delightful stream. (In 1848 when Dorothy was incurably ill
Wordsworth read out this poem to her) And he came back, a worshipper of Nature, never
tired in this service, with a warmer love. This warmth of his love was full of deeper zeal of a
holier love. Dorothy is not merely a companion but also a co-observer of the green pastoral
landscape. She is herself a part of Wordsworth’s sober pleasure in the ‘steep and lofty cliffs’
which are the more precious to him for her sake. The nobility of human heart and its need for
honest love, feed on this green pastoral landscape. The landscape because of this love for
human heart becomes ‘More dear, both for themselves and for thy sake!’ Wordsworth
discovers himself in stanza II and IV when he sees into the life of things and celebrates ‘A
motion and spirit, that impels/All thinking objects and all objects of all thought’, and unites
the mind of the man with the motion that governs Nature. All these loftier moments

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Wordsworth dares to hope (65) and would believe (87) were due to the memory of river Wye.
But these loftier moments do not sustain Wordsworth for long. Wordsworth rediscovers
himself in Stanza V when the landscape becomes dearer to him not for the comfort its
memory always provided him. ‘The gleams of half-distinguished thoughts/ with Many
recognitions dim and faint and somewhat of sad perplexity’ (58-60) is not sufficient. It only
helps him to bear the decay of his genial spirits. The landscape is more dear to him, because
of his love for Dorothy which is real and sustaining. The poem is a journey from loneliness to
human love. The poem is a proclamation of the belief that lonely flights of imagination may
solve the mystery of the unintelligible world, and enable him to ‘see into the life of things and
may unite’ ‘all living things with all objects of all thought’ but do not sustain a man for long.
It is the human love which is real and certain that makes the nature more meaningful.
The wording and structure of stanza III and IV are such as to intimate some diffidence
on the part of Wordsworth as the connection between the beauteous forms’ and the blessed
mood as well as about the mystical significance attributed to the blessed mood. But now
Wordsworth puts forward a far more disquieting suggestion that he might become completely
cut off from Nature, that he might no longer be taught by Nature and the ‘language of sense’.
As J. F. Danby (The Simple Wordsworth, Studies in the Poems, London 1960, pp 94-6) has
observed: ‘the ecstatic harmony is only a phase in a larger moment that passes on in
individual experience, to eventual loss .... Wordsworth had the most Nature could give and
the more, therefore it could take away. He includes the record of bright experience in his
poem but is aware of the inevitability of loss’. And once more he falls on a matter of
ascertained fact as he had done in stanza III. The sudden turning to Dorothy, who has not yet
been mentioned in the poem, may sound unexpected; yet it fits perfectly into the whole
scheme, as should be clear by now. which pulsates between the two poles of Wordsworth’s
inspiration. The matter of fact objectivity of his perception of nature (Stanza I) the deep
certainty of his own psychological experience (Stanza III) and the equally objective and
comforting presence of his sister (Stanza V) on the one hand and his lofty but subjective
aspiration to gain insight into the life of things (Stanza II) and to an intuition of the unity of
the cosmos (Stanza IV) on the other. This systematical pattern with its alternating rhythms of
ascent towards uncommon heights of mystical speculation and descent to the bedrock of
sensory and psychological certainty is fundamental to the total meaning of the poem.
The address to Dorothy is an indirect way for Wordsworth to turn back to his own self
and such assurance as he may have gained so far. Indeed the last, stanza repeats, on a smaller
scale, the ambitious time scheme of the whole poem. In his sister’s present (16-10 and 134-
37) Wordsworth relives his own past as recreated in stanza IV. The imaginary landscape
which surrounds Dorothy, with its misty mountain winds is reminiscent of the picturesque
presentation of Nature in stanza IV rather than the quiet harmony of stanza I. Likewise
Dorothy’s ‘wild eyes’ and wild ecstasies, recall her brother’s past ‘aching joy’s’ and ‘dizzy
raptures’ rather than his present soberly meditative mood. The identification is pushed so far
that Wordsworth projects his own present into his sister’s future (137-146); not only will her
mood be one of sober pleasure, but her memory of nature will play the same restoring role
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that is assigned to it in very similar terms in the beginning of stanza II and III. ‘lovely forms’
(140) and ‘all sweet sounds and harmonies (142) echo with significant precision the beaute-
ous forms (123) and the sensations sweet (27) of stanza II. They will provide healing
thoughts, (144) analogous to the ‘tranquil restoration (130) to which she will be able to turn
in times of ‘solitude, or fear or pain or grief (143) in the same way as her brother now turns to
his recollections of natural beauty for solace in lovely rooms and ‘mid the din of towns and
cities’ (25-6) in ‘hours of weariness’ (27) when ‘oppressed by the fretful stir unprofitable’
and the ‘fever of the world’ (52-3). Dorothy is thus presented as a sort of duplication of her
brother and the close correspondence of their characters and interests and sensibilities may do
much to account for the feeling that existed between them, But while in -turning to his sister,
Wordsworth is in fact turning imaginatively to his own self and experience, there is, in his
anticipation of Dorothy’s future as identical with his present, an omission which so far as 1
know, has passed unnoticed and is both puzzling and significant.
There is a hardly a line in the last stanza which does not refer to some earlier passage.
But it contains nothing that might be considered as echoing those parts of the poem where,
clearly Wordsworth’s poetic power is at its most intense: the end of stanza II and IV. Nor is
there any reference in it to acts of kindness and love or to the ‘still sad music of humanity’;
indeed human society is invoked in negative terms (128-31) strongly reminiscent of the first
part of stanza II and III. In other words all the elements which carry with them overtones,
however slight, of diffidence or uncertainly, are left out of the concluding stanza. And the last
description of Nature’s benevolence (122-34) is couched in terms as general as those of
stanza III.
‘But the dynamic nucleus which gives the poem its impetus is of course perplexity.
Wordsworth had reached the age when a man pauses to reckon up his losses and his gains for
the first time. What his losses were was quite clear to him; he had lost the intimate emotional
relationship with nature that was his five years before. The gains were less obvious ‘for the
other
gifts’ twice mentioned in the poem are of a less ascertainable nature dealing as they do with
metaphysical intuitions. Twice in the course of this poem Wordsworth’s inspiration gathers
force and soars to mystical heights. But although his poetic eloquence testifies to
the intensity of accompanying emotion, his intellectual honesty prevents him
from presenting as fact what is only conjectural. Hence the perplexity. For if the other gifits
are but vain belief, the loss, obviously is total and irrevocable. (Alberts Gerard: Exploring
Tintern Abbey, Critics on Wordsworth, Universal Book Stall, New Delhi, pp 65-67).
Study Notes
112-119. ‘For thou art with me … may I behold in thee what I once was’ : The poet pays a
glowing tribute to his sister, Dorothy Wordsworth. She lifted him out of the depression and
helped to resolve the mental conflict which afflicted the poet from 1793 to 1797. She not only
restored his faith in life but also facilitated his return to nature. The poet knows that had
Dorothy not helped him, he might have ever remained a frustrated and depressed individual.
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See, how he is grateful to his sister Dorothy in whose eyes he sees the gleams of his past
existence. In her he finds the same wild exultant delight in nature that he had experienced in
his earlier years.
These lines contain a confession that Nature does not teach him anymore. If he were not ‘thus
taught’ he might seek inspiration in his sister’s less tutored’ sense of nature, which, echoes
that of his own youth when his pleasure was not in ‘the joy/of elevated thoughts’ but a
spontaneous life reflected in her ‘wild eyes’. The beginnings of Stanza IV and Stanza V
reflect Wordsworth’s longing to reject his present and relive in his past. In this stanza
Wordsworth turns from nature to his sister who is not his ‘nurse’, ‘The guide’ ‘the guardian
of my heart” the soul of all my moral being” but only a companion of his heart,’ My dear,
dear friend’. Wordsworth is trying to recreate his past, but not alone through the memory of
those beauteous form but through his dear friend, his sister Dorothy.
122. ‘Knowing that Nature never did betray’ : Wordsworth does not say that nature
never would betray just as he said ‘I would believe’ in Stanza IV (87). Wordsworth in Stanza
IV admits that he is a changed person but he is not very certain that change means growth,
but he knows that his loss is real and his gains are the products of certain inspired moments
which are not enduring. So when he says Nature never did betray he is trying to reassure
himself or even trying to conceal and contain a doubt that though Nature remains the same,
man does not react to it in the same way. Stanza IV does express his longing for the past. He
now wants to relive his past by recreating it in his sister’s innocent self. Nature never did
betray was his experience in the past - but it may betray.
125-134. ‘From joy to... is full of blessings’ : Wordsworth recounts his experiences–
‘from joy to joy, with quietness and beauty, ‘that all which we behold is full of blessings.’
But it is not the joy of elevated thoughts, the quiet is not the quiet of the sky. There is nothing
elevated here, Wordsworth paints in these lines all those factors which are inimical to Nature
and an innocent heart - ‘evil tongues’, ‘sneers of selfish men’ ‘greetings where no kindness
is’; ‘the dreary intercourse of daily life’. The lofty thoughts will not help them by not
allowing these inhuman factors to ‘prevail against’ them. Wordsworth focusses natures’
blessing and their role to a very limited canvas of ‘dreary intercourse of daily life.’ There is
no mention of the ‘blessed mood’, ‘the living soul’ and the ‘presence’ of a sense sublime.
Wordsworth’s doubt, his confusion, his sad perplexity is turning real, he avoids them and
turns to his love for his sister which is real.
134-137. ‘Therefore let the moon... against thee’: Wordsworth imagines these
experiences for his sister.
137-146. ‘in years after... my exhortations’ : Wordsworth says that Dorothy’s mind will
mature in the same way his own mind matured. The memory will play a similar role.
Wordsworth says that the sweet memories will help her in fighting solitude, fear, pain and
grief. He does not mention the still sad music of humanity.

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 146-155. ‘Nor perchance ... we of holier love’ : The fact we stood together becomes
more significant than everything else. The present scene is not valuable for its actuality but
only for its memory. A time may come when he is incapacitated to read the message in her
eyes but ‘he came again with a ‘warmer love – oh!’ The love is warmer since his sister is also
present. The sign of exclamation carries a special message. The earlier sings of exclamation
were concerned with Wordsworth’s personal loneliness. Now that loneliness is no more, not
because of nature but because of Dorothy therefore ‘a warmer love -oh !’ He is a worshipper
of Nature and he has come untired to perform his duty to pay his tribute, but the moment is of
special significance since the beauty of Nature is reanimated because of Dorothy’s presence.
155-159. ‘Nor... though ... for thy sake’ : The landscape of stanza I which was beautiful,
quiet and serene which spoke of Great Cosmic Harmony now becomes more meaningful
because it is full of human love, the human presence is not the Hermit or the vagrant dwellers
who were remote for him. The human is his sister Dorothy, his ‘dear dear friend.’ The poem
begins with a sign of exclamation ‘the five long winters!’ depicting the misery of a lonely
human heart and ends with a sign of exclamation. The pastoral forms are ‘dear to him both
for themselves and for thy sake ! The poem celebrates the victory of human companionship
of the holy heart. He loves nature but loves man first.
Wordsworth, recognizing in his youth (but thoughtlessly recognizing it) a sacred quality
in Nature, now recognizes a similar sacred quality in man’s subjective response to nature. He
has always loved Nature, but connecting that love now with human affections and obligations
he finds it a ‘holier love’. (G.S. Fraser).
Tintern Abbey, as you have noticed, is not primarily about a place. It is about
Wordsworth revisiting a place and about the change that has come over him in these five
years. Five years ago young Wordsworth was not disillusioned with the French Revolution.
His response to Nature was ecstatic and passionate. “The sounding cataract’ haunted him like
a passion’. But that time is past. All its ‘aching joys’ and ‘dizzy raptures’ are no more. He
now looks on nature with a soberer eye, linking his joy in it with the still sad music of
humanity’.
5. A Critical Review

The entire poem is necessitated by the fact that poet’s response to the landscape in 1978
is not the same as it was in 1793 or as it was before 1793 when he was a small boy. For
Wordsworth the entire landscape is and has been one individual— O. Sylvan wye! wanderer
through the woods.’ Even today the landscape is one individual “clad in one green hue”. So,
the revisit is a meeting between two individuals i.e. the-landscape and Wordsworth which
takes place after a nagging gap ‘of five long summers and five long winters!” Throughout the
period of five years, the individual in the landscape (a beloved one – ‘an appetite, a feeling
and a love’) has been comforting and inspiring him in more than one way. Probably the
fountain of these inspirations is exhausted or inspiration is just not enough to meet
Wordsworth’s immediate predicament that he feels the need to revisit his old beloved for a

71
renewal of strength and for a continuation of the relationship. When an individual revisits his
beloved after a long separation, the revisit is occasioned by a concealed desire for an
immediate reunion. If this reunion does not provide the desired relief, the individual wants to
be certain whether he is meeting the same person or somebody else. He starts looking at his
eyes, lips, at every part of his body from head to foot in order to determine whether the
person is the same or not. That is what Wordsworth does in stanza I. He catalogues
everything “mountain springs’ steep and lofty cliffs’ ‘the quiet of the sky’ the orchards tufts”
and the “pastoral farms green to the very door’. The entire person is the same, it breathes the
same spirit and yet the same reciprocity is not established. ‘The poem opens with a cry like
that of a man awaking distressed from a bad dream’.
‘Five years have passed: five summers, with the length of five long winters!’
Wordsworth’s hope of life beginning to flow once more from a spring that has been
stopped, is not immediately rewarded and as yet remains a hope betrayed. Though the
relationship is not continued or established in the same way as he expected but there is a sigh
of relief that he is at least away from a culture which inhibits all relationship, deadens feeling,
swamps the sensibility and promotes selfishness. That is why inspite of the fact that
Wordsworth’s expectations do not find a desired result, he is not desperate, he is not
frustrated. The unsatisfied hope lands him into a mood of wistfulness. The poet imagines that
the woods are entertaining a human activity and the Sylvan Wye is participating in this
activity: ‘the wreaths of smoke/Sent up in silence from among the trees!’ The entire stanza
speaks of wistfulness and a sense of longing.
Notice especially the motion towards the ‘Hermit’ at the end of the first paragraph: from
the actual through the imaginative to the “imaginary”. Imaginatively the woods, take on
human activity: dressed up in themselves and set free metaphorically, they seem to enjoy
being there. But the exclamation seems to be prompted by the wish : imagine ! “Vagrant
dwellers!” “houseless woods!” These are people wishfully imagined by Wordsworth to be
living in Nature, and living no doubt in contentment that Wordsworth associated with Nature
rather than the actual destitution one associates with vagrancy. The Hermit unlike the
imaginary vagrant community that proceeds him, is completely alone. He is the man who has
renounced the world and the human community. The passage ends with the present indicative
replacing the conditional: ‘The Hermit sits alone”. (Richard J. Onorato, The Character of the
Poet, Princeton University Press. 1971, pp. 45-46)
It is a wild secluded scene which no more invites Wordsworth to join it rather sends
Wordsworth away to ‘thoughts of more deep seclusion’. The Hermit thus becomes a bridge
between the ‘wild secluded scene’ and the thoughts of more deep seclusion’. The imaginary
solitary figure of the Hermit is the purest form of human mind religiously unwilling to be
polluted by the ‘fever of the world’, conveys Wordsworth’s concealed desire for a similar
escape. The Hermits’ escape we shall see becomes Wordsworth’s chief concern in this poem.
This wishfully projected figure of the Hermit does more than one thing. It tells us that the
Hermit’s philosophical escape of this world is different from young Wordsworth’s escape
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into nature (in 1793). It also tells us about Wordsworth’s tragic and agonising fatigue of this
world and his wishful desire to be there (in the valley of the Wye) as a Hermit and his
incapacity to do so. and it also tells us of his conflict to decide whether this Hermit’s
renunciation which refuses to accept mankind permanently is better than his earlier escape
wherein he ran away from mankind only temporarily. The Hermit is thus an imaginary figure
projected into a real landscape, but it is also real figure projected into the imaginary
landscape of Wordsworth’s mind.
The fact which the poet does not want to confront just now is that on this physical revisit
the desired physical and emotional reunion does not take place “The Hermit, and “the
thoughts of more deep seclusion” taken together, suggest that Wordsworth’s visiting this
particular landscape cannot satisfy the inner needs that give rise to this visit. Wordsworth
now shuts his eye to the immediate present and takes shelter in his memory of the landscape.
‘The wishful quality of his recollections of these beauteous forms’ tells us what they have
been to him in the interim since his last visit. How often, Wordsworth says, his spirit has
turned to Sylvan Wye and these ‘beauteous forms’ when “amid the many shapes of joyless
daylight”, his heart has been oppressed by the “fever of the world”. (The Character of the
Poet, p. 48)
Wordsworth’s present compels him to activate his past to the extent that it becomes a
living present for him and be starts moving away from the actual landscape into the memory
of the landscape. Wordsworth now lives in the melting pot of a reanimated past, (here is an
aroma of spiritual ascents, vaporous moments which lift him heavenwards, make him see
“into the life of things”. There are crystals of concrete physical happiness, ‘of sensations
sweet’, of “aching joys” and “dizzy raptures” and there are vast deserts of ‘fret and fever’, of
dreary intercourse of daily life’, ultimately the whole place vibrates with the still sad music of
humanity. Wordsworth while articulating his remembered self is deliberately denying voice
to his immediate present.
Perhaps the poet travels into his past and his sweet associations of the landscape through
the agency of the memory to regain strength to confront his agonising present. First he travels
into his immediate past in which his mind celebrates the memory of these ‘beauteous forms’
and then he travels back to 1793 when his fevered mind needed an escape from the world of
men and his entire pleasure in nature was physical alone.
When the revisit does not consummate into a reunion Tintern Abbey becomes an attempt
by Wordsworth to escape from the ‘heavy and weary’ weight of this ‘unintelligible world’
into a mood sublime’ and become a living soul: ‘A motion and a spirit, that impels/All
thinking objects/All objects of all thoughts/ And rolls through all things’. This escape unites
the soul of his being with the spirit of the landscape. The physical self of the Landscape is
given a mind which through Wordsworth’s mind plays the music of entire mankind. This
escape also unites his past with his present, a desired reunion which in reality has been denied
to him. His wishes for a renewal of his relationship with Nature which may continue to feed

73
his future years is also granted by this escape. But this escape does not sustain him for long
since the Hermit -like attainment achieved in this escape is not enduring. Wordsworth
becomes more sensitively aware of his miserable ‘now’ of his “sad perplexity” and of “the
still sad music of humanity’.
The imaginary ‘Hermit’ of the landscape becomes the real Hermit of Wordsworth’s
imaginary mental landscape. The meditations of this real Hermit help Wordsworth to
transcend his body and see into the life of things and seek oneness with the spirit of all
objects but this achievement is only momentary and therefore the hermit now loses his capital
H since it was meditating on an imaginary plane and not on the bed-rock of reality.
Wordsworth is a ‘changed man’ whether this change is gain and therefore a mental growth or
a loss and a decay- is ‘Wordsworth’s sad perplexity. But one thing is certain Wordsworth
rejects the Hermit with capital H. He renounces his renunciation and becomes a hermit who
feels that Nature also ‘sees’ into the still sad music of humanity. The same thing we shall see
happening in The Immortality Ode The entire process is reversed, Hermit renounces mankind
to attain the harmony of Nature. Now Nature denounces Hermit’s withdrawal and starts
living with the still sad music of humanity A wishfully imagined Hermit, Hermitises
Wordsworth when he tries to relive his past with the memory of those “beauteous forms’ only
to de-hermitise him into a man who is aware of the universal and eternal misery of mankind.
The view of the universe as a great machine, in which life is fostered only to be
inexorably and permanently destroyed, is one of Wordsworth’s great preoccupations. The
“Lucy’ poems are, for example, centrally concerned with this aspect of nature. The peace that
nature inspires in Tintern Abbey is possible only in moments of great intellectual detachment,
when the grand pattern can be enjoyed with the kind of pleasure that is given by mathematics.
But when the poet applies his mind more closely to the situation of actual men and women in
a world so constructed he is inevitably confronted with
the fear that kills;
And hope that is unwilling to be fed;
(old, pain and labour, and all fleshly ills.
And mighty poets in their misery dead. (Resolution and Independence 113-16)

This is not to deny the validity of Tintern Abbey but to remind ourselves that by its elevated
detachment it is an expression of the ‘heart that lives alone’. (Geoffrey Durant, Wordsworth
and the Great System, Cambridge University Press, p. 106).
The last stanza celebrates the need of human love and human relationship. Nature only
becomes a living language through which this relationship can flourish peacefully.
Wordsworth becomes united with his past and aspires to a living continuity with his future
through his love for Dorothy. The entire process of ‘Hermitization’ of escape into spiritual or
mystical flights is deliberately avoided. Although man’s world is dehumanized and
dehumanizing, yet it has to be born with through human love which feeds upon the memory of
‘the beauteous forms’,

74
 Nor wilt thou then forget
That after many wanderings, many years
Of absence, these steep woods and lofty cliffs
And this green pastoral landscape, were to me
More dear, both for themselves and for thy sake :
The revisit to the landscape is an abrupt shock, it makes him realise that he is a changed
man, that he has lost his capacity to respond to nature and to live with nature as he used to do.
Wordsworth cannot withstand this shock, he moves away from the landscape, and retires into
the world of his memory, but cannot stay there for long. Wordsworth returns to his immediate
present, sad and perplexed. He is disconnected with his past, he is disunited with the
landscape. The landscape does not revive him. But when he relives his past in his sister’s
eyes, he gets revived he gets Reconnected with his past, he get Re-united with the landscape.
Wordsworth’s belief, that a preferred relationship with Nature is renewable “through all the
years of this our life “is maintained not by the landscape but by Dorothy, his love for Dorothy
and Dorothy’s love for him.
Wordsworth’s testament to nature in Tintern Abbey reveals the fortitude of a stoic; it
erects a defence against the assaults of existence:
Oh ! yet a little while
May I behold in thee what I was once,
My dear Sister ! and this prayer! make,
knowing that Nature never did betray,
................................
is full of blessings.
It can be instructive to analyze the statement that “nature never did betray/The heart that
loved her.’ One remarks the feminine personification; also the attribution of human agency.
Most of all, however, the note of protestation is the striking feature of this passage. It is not
necessary to say that one will not be betrayed unless fear of the betrayal does in fact exist.
(Thomas McFarland, Romanticism and the Forms of Ruin, Princeton University Press, pp
159-60.)
‘In Tintern Abbey’ Wordsworth is adjusting his disturbed feelings about past and present
to each other. The artist composing the elements of his personal experience to present a
continuous sense of himself in time, seems to achieve a feeling of composure. The
complexity of the process is awesome; and one submits willingly to control of the person
attempting it. It is difficult even to master the several senses of self, time, and place as they
are adjusted to each other; and this is not only the case by the time the poem ends, but after
one has read it several times. When one begins to think about the argument, however, the
spell of the poem is broken, and begins to see the man who needs order beneath the artist
who attempts to impose it. (Richard J. Onorato, The Character of the Poet, Princeton
University Press 1971, p.87).

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6. Check your Understanding
1. Point out lines that show/describe the following:
(a) Wordsworth’s belief that the Universal Spirit pervades every object of nature.
(b) his love of nature in his boyhood.
(c) the mystical experience that enables him to see into the life of things.
2. What is the ‘loss’ the poet refers to in line 89?
3. Describe briefly the three stages in the development of the poet’s attitude to Nature.
4. Explain the following phrases /lines:
(i) sensations sweet
(ii) that serene and blessed mood
(iii) life of things
(iv) fretful stir
(v) fever of the world
(vi) still sad music of humanity
5. “Nor less I trust./To them I may have owed another gift” What is this other gift the
poet is referring to ?
6. Explain the following lines with reference to the context :
(a) These beauteous forms,
Through a long absence, have not been to me
As is a landscape to a blind man’s eye;
But oft, in lonely rooms, and’ mid the din
Of towns and cities, I have owed to them,
In hours of weariness, sensations sweet,
Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart;
(b) The picture of the mind revives again;
While here I stand, not only with the sense
Of present pleasure, but with pleasing thoughts
That in this moment there is life and food
For future years.

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7. Ode : Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood

“The Child is father of the Man;

And I could wish my days to be
Bound each to each by natural Piety”
I
There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
The earth, and every common sight.
To me did seem
Appareled in celestial light,
The glory and the freshness of a dream.
It is not now as it hath been of yore:-
Turn wheresoe’er I may,
By night or day.
The things which 1 have seen 1 now can see no more.
II
The Rainbow comes and goes.
And love is the Rose.
The Moon doth with delight
Look round her when the heavens are bare.
Waters on a starry night
Are beautiful and fair:
The sunshine is a glorious birth;
But yet I know, where’er I go,
That there hath past away a glory from the earth.
III
Now, while the birds thus sing a joyous song,
And while the young lambs bound
As to the tabor’s sound,
To me alone there came a thought of grief;
A timely utterance gave that thought relief.
And 1 again am strong:
The cataracts blow their trumpets from the steep;
No more shall grief of mine the season wrong;
1 hear the Echoes through the mountains throng.
The Winds come to me from the fields of sleep.
And all the earth is gay;
Land and sea

77
Give themselves up to jollity,
And with the heart of May
Doth every Beast keep holiday;--
Thou Child of Joy,
Shout round me, let me hear thy shouts, thou happy
Shepherd-boy!
IV
Ye blessed Creatures, 1 have heard the call
Ye to each other make; 1 see
The heavens laugh with you in your jubilee;
My heart is at your festival, 40
My head hath its coronal,
The fulness of your bliss. I feel —I feel it all.
Oh evil day ! If I were sullen
While Earth herself is adorning.
This sweet May-morning.
And the Children are culling
On every side.
In a thousand valleys far and wide,
Fresh flowers: while the sun shines warm,
And the Babe leaps up on his Mother’s arm:-
I hear. I hear, with joy I hear! 50
-- But there’s a Tree, of many, one,
A single Field which I have looked upon,
Both of them speak of something that is gone:
The Pansy at my feet
Doth the same tale repeat
Whither is fled the visionary gleam ?
Where is it now, the glory and the dream?
V
One birth is but a sleep and a forgetting :
The Soul that rises with us, our life’s Star,
Hath had elsewhere its setting,
And cometh from afar:
Not in entire forgetfulness,
And not in utter nakedness,
But trailing clouds of glory do we come,
From God who is our home :
Heaven lies about us in our infancy!
Shades of the prison-house begin to close
78
Upon the growing Boy.
But he beholds the light, and whence it flows,
He sees it in his joy; 70
The Youth, who daily farther from the east
Must travel, still is nature’s Priest,
And by the vision splendid
Is on his way attended ,
At length the Man perceives it die away,
And fade into the light of common day.
VI
Earth fills her lap with pleasure of her own;
Yearnings she hath in her own natural kind,
And, even with something of a Mother’s mind,
And no unworthy aim, 80
The homely Nurse doth all she can
To make her Foster-child, her Inmate Man,
Forget the glories he hath known,
And that imperial palace whence he came.
VII
Behold the Child among his new-born blisses.
A six year’s Darling of a pigmy size!
See, where ’mid work of his own hand he lies.
Fretted by sallies of his mother’s kisses,
With light upon him from his father’s eyes!
See, at his feet, some little plan or chart, 90
Some fragment from his dream of human life.
Shaped by himself with newly-learned art;
A wedding or a festival,
A mourning or a funeral;
And this hath now his heart,
And up to this he frames his song:
Then will he fit his tongue
To dialogues of business love, or strife;
But it will not be long 100
Ere this be thrown aside,
And with new joy and pride
The little Actor cons another part;
Filling from time to time his “humorous stage”
with all the Persons, down to palsied Age,
That Life brings with her in her equipage;
79
As if his whole vocation
Were endless imitation.
VIII
Thou, whose exterior semblance doth belie
Thy Soul’s immensity.
Thou best Philosopher, who yet dost keep
Thy heritage, thou Eye among the blind,
That, deaf and silent, read’st eternal deep,
Haunted for ever by the eternal mind,-
Mighty Prophet! Seer blest!
On whom those truths do rest,
Which we are toiling all our lives to find,
In darkness lost, the darkness of the grave;
Thou, over whom thy Immortality
Broods like the Day, a Master o’er a Slave,
A Presence which is not to be put by; 120
Thou little Child, yet glorious in the might
Of heaven-born freedom on thy Being’s height,
Why with such earnest pains dost thou provoke
The years to bring the inevitable yoke,
Thus blindly with thy blessedness at strife?
Full soon thy Soul shall have her earthly freight,
And custom lie upon thee with a weight,
Heavy as frost, and deep almost as life !
IX
O joy! that in our embers
Is something that doth live, 130
That nature yet remembers
What was so fugitive!
The thought of our past years in me doth breed
Perpetual benediction: not indeed
For that which is most worthy to be blest;
Delight and liberty, the simple creed
Of Childhood, whether busy or at rest,
With new-fledged hope still fluttering in his breast
Not for these I raise 140
The song of thanks and praise;
But for those obstinate questionings
Of sense and outward things,
Fallings from us, vanishings;
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Blank misgivings of a Creature
Moving about in worlds not realised,
High instincts before which our mortal Nature
Did tremble like a guilty Thing surprised:
But for those first affections.
Those shadowy recollections.
Which, be they what they may, 150
Are yet the fountain-light of all our day,
Are yet a master-light of all our seeing;
Uphold us, cherish, and have power to make
Our noisv years seem moments in the being
Of the eternal Silence: truths that wake,
To perish never:
Which neither listlessness, nor mad endeavour,
Nor man nor Boy,
Nor all that is at enmity with joy,
Can utterly abolish or destroy!
Hence in a season of calm weather
Though inland far we be. 160
Our Souls have sight of that immortal sea
Which brought us hither,
Can in a moment travel thither,
And see the Children sport upon the shore,
And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore.
X
Then sing, ye Birds sing, sing a joyous song!
And let the young Lambs bound 170
As to the tabor’s sound!
We in thought will join your throng,
Ye that pipe and ye that play,
Ye that through your hearts to-day
Feel the gladness of the May!
What though the radiance which was once so bright
Be now for ever taken from my sight,
Though nothing can bring back the hour,
Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower:
We will grieve not, rather find 180
Strength in what remains behind;
In the primal sympathy
Which having been must ever be;
In the soothing thoughts that spring
81
Out of human suffering;
In the faith that looks through death,
In years that bring the philosophic mind.
XI
And O, ye Fountains, Meadows, Hills, and Groves.
Forebode not any severing of our loves!
Yet in My heart of hearts I feel your might; 190
I only have relinquished one delight;
To live beneath your more habitual sway.
1 love the Brooks which down their channels fret,
Even more than when I tripped lightly as they:
The innocent brightness of a new-born Day
Is lovely yet;
The Clouds that gather round the setting sun
Do take a sober colouring from an eye
That hath kept watch o’er man’s mortality; 200
Another race hath been, and other palms are won.
Thanks to the human heart by which we live,
Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears,
To me the meanest flower that blows can give
Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.

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8. The Immortality Ode: A Detailed Analysis

The poem begins with a declaration in the form of an epigram. The declaration says that the
‘Child’ is the father of’ Man” and the entire poem is an elaboration of this statement. Both the
words ‘The Child and the ‘Man’ begin with capital letters since they represent different states
of the soul in the evolutionary growth of life. The declaration that the ‘Child’ is the father of
Man leads him into a wish for a natural piety’ which should make his entire life a continuum,
cementing each moment with the other, not allowing his days to be isolated events of joys or
grief’s, of listlessness or mad endeavors. The poet does not want the harsh realities of life
should disrupt the flow of childhood blossoming into a man as a person grows. The music
and power of natural piety should condense the entire process of growth into one celestial
experience. This is possible only when the natural piety which a child possesses remains,
undiluted, unwrinkled and unalloyed. The first line of this epigram states a gospel and the
next two lines contain a wish that essence of the gospel should flow throughout his life fusing
one moment with the other without any fracture. A truth is announced and wish is prayed for.
The entire poem is an answer to this prayer. That is why the epigram is given within inverted
commas.
8.1 Stanza–1
The Loss - Earth
These lines announce the loss of a “celestial light’ which could endow upon earth and all
its aspects, the glory of heaven, the fall of man from Eden is not easily accepted by the child
and the memory of heaven with all its freshness and glory is still retained by him like a
dream. This dream he projects on every common sight he comes across. The child’s vision
has nothing to do with man’s physical power of seeing. Be it day or night, everything puts on
a heavenly robe, the child’s vision celebrates Wordsworth’s theme of wholeness of life in
man and nature. The child carries this sense of wholeness but the process of growth snatches
this vision. The elusive quality of child’s vision is suggested by its dream-like freshness and
glory. Dreams reflect the objects not as they are but as one desires them to be, The
ambiguous character of the child’s vision as remembered by the man is implicit therefore in
the first stanza of the poem. What the speaker has lost, it is suggested, something which is
fleeting, shadowy and strange, but something which possesses a quality of insight and
wholeness which no amount of other will duplicate. It is visionary; that is , like a vision a
revelation. (Cleanth Brooks. The Well Wrought Urn, Methuen University, London, p. 104)
Study Notes
4. appareled: especially dressed up for an occasion
4. Celestial light: light coming from sky or heaven, here it may mean ‘something
different from ordinary, earthly, scientific light; it is a light of the mind, shining even in
darkness– “by night or day” and “it is perhaps similar to the light which is praised in the

83
invocation to the third book of Paradise Lost” (Lionel Trilling, The Liberal Imagination, p.
126).
8.2 Stanza II
The Loss-The Sky
In this stanza Wordsworth further moans his loss. He moves from earth to sky. There was a
time when common things were glorious, but now even the glorious things are common. The
moon and the sun, celebrate their birth in the sky, the way the child does in the Stanza 1, by
clothing the earth with celestial light. The rainbow participates in this cosmic dance and like a
dream it comes and goes. In this Stanza, the earth or ‘lovely Rose’ and, the waters on a starry
night, acquire their beauty, not from the Child, but from the moon and the sun. The Stanza
begins with the birth of the moon when the skies are bare, the night then ages into stars, and
ends in the glorious birth of sun. The quality of the child’s vision is extended to the moon and
the sun. But the poet cannot share their pleasure, since he no longer possesses the vision of a
child. In both these stanzas, the light, whether it comes from Child’s visionary powers or
from moon and sun, plays an important role. The rainbow phenomenon, the divine splitting
of common light into a heavenly spectrum, is symbolic of Child’s visionary powers. The poet
knows that Nature is as beautiful as it once used to be, but he cannot perceive this beauty,
since his mind is not as perceptive as it used to be. The stanza also contrasts the aging of man
with the immortal freshness of life in Nature with which the child at once attunes his mind by
establishing, a relationship. The Rainbow, the transfigured light, symbolic of Child’s
transfiguring celestial light, the Rose, symbolic of earth’s beauty and the Moon a source of
light which destroys darkness on the earth, all, start with capital letters, proclaiming a
wholeness of life which the poet cannot feel anymore.
Wordsworth says that the rainbow and the rose are beautiful. We expect him to go on to
say the same of the moon. But here, with one of the nicest touches in the poem, he reverses
the pattern to say : “The Moon doth with delight/Look round her when the heavens are bare”.
The moon is treated as if she were the speaker himself in his childhood, seeing the visionary
gleam as she looks round her with joy. The poet cannot see the gleam, but he implies that the
moon can see it, and suggests how she can; she sheds the gleam herself; she lights up and
thus creates her world. This seems to me a hint which Wordsworth is to develop later more
explicitly, that it is the child, looking round him with joy, who is at once both the source and
recipient of the vision. (Ibid. pp. 104-105).
Study Notes
3-4 : The moon is celebrating its birth: When the moon rises the sky is bare, there are
no stars. It is a source of light and it lights up its world. The moon does the same thing which
a child does at the time of birth.
7. : The sun also celebrates its birth the way the Child and the Moon do.
9. : The earth has lost its heavenly splendour. The Child’s mind unites the earth with
heaven by dressing it up in a celestial light. This glory is gone when a person grows up.

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8.3 Stanza III
From Sight to Sound - The Loss
The poet moves from sight to sound. Wordsworth knowing that he can no longer experience
the celestial light, or join the Moon and the Sun in their glorious splendour closes his eyes
and tries to feel the beauty of Nature the way a blind man would do. In stanza II, the Rose
(i.e. flowers or plants) acquires a special significance since it is a willing participant in the
celebrations of Nature as compared to the poet who is not even a passive sharer. The poet is
only an inert spectator. Stanza III now includes animals also. The poet listens to the music of
birds and lambs gambolling to the music of tabor. A thought of grief isolates the poet from
other animals. The poet’s hearing of the music of birds and lambs is interrupted when he is
compelled to listen to a thought of personal grief. (It is this personal thought of grief or joy
which divides the poet or man from other men, and from Nature in its many manifestations
and breaks the thread of natural piety, the poet wished for in the epigram). A timely utterance
saves the poet and the season of personal grief is not allowed to spoil the season of ‘the heart
of May’; the season of joyful creation. This timely utterance according to Professor Garrod is
the Rainbow poem and according to Lionel Trilling is the utterance of the leech-gatherer in
the poem ‘Resolution and Independence’. The sound of cataracts is an announcement of their
victory and poet’s defeat. The victory of ‘blow their trumpets’ marks the poet’s defeat who is
no more an active participant in Nature’s celebrations on a holiday and only listens to the
Echoes. The ‘Child of Joy’, ‘the Shepherd boy’ ‘the heart of May’ the Beast’, ‘the Echoes
and the winds’ all enjoy the celebrations of nature on a holiday. Wordsworth deliberately
chooses a capital letter for all these agencies of Nature, since they are gaily participating
while the poet is only a passive listener who is requesting an invitation from the shepherd boy
“let me hear thy shouts’. Shepherd boy is the only human being in the entire scene, that is the
reason for the exclamation of the poet. We have moved from pure celestial light to pure
celestial music (sound). The shepherd boy also, like the wind, or the Echoes, shouts, and does
not speak the language of men.
With Stanza III the emphasis is shifted from sight to sound. It is a very cunning touch. The
poet has lamented the passing of a glory from the earth. But he can, he suggests, at least hear
the mirth of the blessed creatures for whom the earth still wears that glory.
Stanza III is dominated by sound : the birds’ song, the trumpet of the Cataract, Echoes,
the winds, presumably their sounds— one cannot see them, Even the gambolling of lambs is
associated with a strong auditory image — ‘as to the tabor’s sound’ (Cleanth Brooks, The
Well Wrought Urn, p. 109),
Study Notes
5. A timely utterance ...: ‘’Professor Garrod believes that this timely ‘utterance” is
from the rainbow poem “My heart leaps up when 1 behold” which was written the day before
the Ode was begun. Certainly this poem is most intimately related to the Ode- its theme the
legacy left by the Child to the man. Is the dominant theme of the Ode, and Wordsworth used
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its last lines as the Ode’s epigraph. In line 43 of ‘Resolution and Independence’ Wordsworth
says, “Oh evil day ! If I were sullen” and the world “Sullen” leaps out at us as a strikingly
carefully chosen word. Now there is one poem in which Wordsworth says that he was Sullen;
it is “Resolution and Independence”. It seems to me more likely that it, rather than the
Rainbow poem, of which the Ode speaks because in it and not in the Rainbow poem, a sullen
feeling occurs and is relieved. (Lionel Trilling, The Liberal Imagination p. 131 and 133)
The Cataracts ... steep : to blow your trumpet means to boast about something. The noise
of the cataracts as they fall down the steep announces their superiority over the poet in the
sense that Nature includes them in their celebration but the poet is excluded.
8. grief of mine : grief is considered to be a mental season which tries to influence the
Natural season.
9. Echoes ... throng : The sound of the cataracts is multiplied in the echoes produced by
the mountains.
10. The winds... sleep : In stanza V Wordsworth says , “Our birth is but sleep and
forgetting”. Therefore here Wordsworth feels that by breathing, in an atmosphere which
marked his birth the poet acquires the strength of his Childhood. The timely utterance and the
‘winds’ coming from the ‘fields of sleep’ energise the poet’s mind to fight his depression and
be a passive spectator of the jollity of nature with which the ‘heart of May’ “gives itself up to
jollity’.
11-18. And all... shepherd boy : Nature and man i.e. the ‘Shepherd-boy’ join together
as one soul in the festivity. Shepherd boy is the Child of joy, and therefore has the joy of the
Child which can perceive nature ‘appareled in Celestial light’. The shepherd boy always lives
in close intimacy with Nature and therefore his mind is not corrupted by the customs of
mankind.
8.4 Stanza IV
An Attempt to Forget and the Thematic Question
In stanza III the poet requests the shepherd boy to invite him to ‘hear thy shouts’. Stanza
IV finds the poet in the world of the blessed creatures who can, like the child share the glory
of the earth. The poet can hear them in a wordless but not soundless communication with
each other. All intense and pure emotions are expressed and shared through wordless sounds.
The poet can hear the heavens laughing with them. In Stanza I a heavenly glory is endowed
upon natural objects by the Child because he still retains the dream of heaven, now the
heavens join nature in its celebration. The poet’s head is provided with an antenna which
allows his heart to join the festival. The earth and heaven laugh together. The poet is happy
that he is not sullen and can listen to timely utterance which enables him to join this festival
of sweet May-morning. This morning is announced at the end of stanza I but the poet then
was not capable of enjoying its visual beauty. The visual beauty is still denied to him, but he
can hear the music of the earth, and heaven and feel its full bliss. The poet now lands himself

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in the valleys of children who are culling flowers in the warm sun shine. The poet is so
intensely absorbed in the musical symphony that he can hear the babe ‘leaps up in his
Mother’s arm. The babe feels so secure in mother’s arm that he can afford to leap away from
it, knowing, perhaps unconsciously that he will not fall. The tragedy begins when he tries to
move away from the security of these arms, or when he grows up. He allows himself to fail.
The poet’s eyes don’t cooperate with his ears for long. The auditory pleasure is abruptly
stopped by a visual object. The solitary tree, the remaining off-spring of a solitary field and a
“Pansy” at his feet remind him of his disastrous loss. The sense of solitude, of forced
deprivation, of being removed away from the wholeness of life, or earth and heaven, brings
him back to reality and he cries where is the ‘visionary gleam’, ‘where is the glory and the
dream’ which accompany a child when he comes to this earth. These four stanzas remind us
of the stanza I and IV of Tintern Abbey. The landscape is the same, only the poet is a changed
person.
The effect is that of a blind man trying to enter the joyful world of dawn. He can hear
the blessed creatures as they rejoice in the world but he himself is shut out from it. ..... one
sees a smile... but the laughter is vocal. The heavens are laughing with the children. The poet
does in a sense enter into the scene; certainly he is trying very hard to enter into it. But what I
notice is that the poet seems to be trying to work up a gaiety that isn’t there. If his heart is at
the children’s festival, it is their festival, after all, not his.
The poet under the influence of a morning scene, feeling the winds that blow from the
fields of sleep, tries to relive the dream. He fails. (Ibid, pp. 109-110)
Study Notes
1. ye blessed Creatures : The children of joy.
2. heavens laugh : heaven’s participate in Children’s festivity on the May -morning of
which the poet is an auditory spectator. The poet listens to the laughter. Laughter can be
heard and a smile can be seen.
5. Coronal : decoration of head; the head is decorated: means it is so thrilled that it
refuses to think and analyse. It is captured by its decoration.
8-9. Earth - May-morning : Earth as an aspect of Nature is personified.
10, Culling : Choosing the best, only the fresh, the newly born flowers. The emphasis is
on the birth, whether it is Child, The Moon, the Sun. or the flowers.
13. the sun-warms : The newly born sun, spreads its warmth of affection. It provides
the same warmth and security which the “Mother provides to her “baby”.
16-19. at tree... feet: the tree, the field, and the pansy are symbols of solitude. They
remind the poet that he is an outsider and he does not belong here.

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 21. visionary gleam : gleam which was there at the time of birth, which could dress up
the common things in a celestial light. Wordsworth, whenever he has a moment of insight or
happiness talks about it in the language of light.
Note : This stanza articulates moments of ultimate happiness when the mind is fitted
with the universe and the universe with the mind. This stanza reminds us of Tintern Abbey’s
stanza II and IV.
8.5 Stanza V
The Growth or Decay?
The first four stanzas build up a question which is formulated in a cry at the end of
stanza IV. ‘Whither is fled the visionary gleam? Where is it now, the glory and the dream?’
Stanza I describes the numinous joy of the child when it adorns the earth with a celestial
light. Stanza II carries this joy to the moon and the sun and announces the birth of a glorious
dawn but the poet is kept away from it. In stanza III the poet gets himself invited into this
May-dawn festival and in stanza IV he tries to feel and live the ecstasy of this morning but
his dream vanishes abruptly at the sight a solitary tree and he wakes up with the questions
lamenting the loss of this visionary gleam. The rest of the poem tries to answer this question
and the answer begins in stanza V. The poet is using the Platonic belief in the pre-existence
of soul as a myth to suit his poetic design. Our birth announces the separation of our soul
from its original home i.e. God. The memory of this home is retained by the Child as a
visionary gleam or a dream which is still capable of perceiving the wholeness of life. The
child inherits the glory of God ‘trailing clouds of glory do we come/From God.’ The entire
process of living is forgetting the origin of our soul as we grow. Life’s journey is compared
with the Sun’s journey moving away from its origin in the east. ‘Heaven lies about us in our
infancy’ !. The child lights up the world transforming it into a heaven just as the moon and
the sun do at the time of their birth in stanza II. But as soon as we are separated from our
mother’s arms and its security and try to stand on our own feet, ‘shades of prison-house begin
to close’. The process of a child learning the ways of the world involves a gradual forgetting
of the origin of his life. (Every expression in this poem, that reminds the poet of his gradual
divide or alienation from God, the soul’s original home ends in a sign of exclamation). Both
the sun and the child, as they grow become stranger to themselves, to their origin, to the
visionary gleam, which marks their birth. The child grows into Man through two intervening
stages i.e. ‘Boy’ and ‘Youth’ who still retain the memory of childhood vision but when the
child grows into a man this vision completely dies. The sun unlike the morning sun of stanza
II which enjoys its birth, becomes an ordinary sun that simply performs its duty, of lending
visibility to other objects. The journey is from celestial light, which makes the earthly objects
look heaven-like, to ordinary light, which makes the objects visible as common things. The
entire process of growth involves a gradual dying of celestial light into common light. The
child like the sun travels away from east, i.e., its heaven, not towards darkness, but towards
complete forgetfulness of its home and his vision which was once visionary now becomes an

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ordinary vision, i.e. the eye’s physical capacity to see objects simply as they are. The birth of
human life means forgetting the divine vision in order to learn mortal man’s customs.
The basic metaphor from line 67 onward has to do with the child’s moving away from
heaven, his home — the shades of the prison house closing about him, the youth’s progress
further and further from the day-spring in the east. We should, however, if the figure were
worked out with thorough consistency, expectt him to arrive at darkness, or near darkness,
the shades of prison house having closed round the boy all but completely — the youth
having travelled into some darkened and dismal west. Yet the tantalising ambiguity in the
symbol which we have noticed earlier continues. The Climax of the process is not darkness
but full daylight: ‘At length the Man perceives it die away/ And fade into the light of the
common day.’ We have contrast then, a contrast between kinds of light, not between light and
darkness. There is a further ambiguity in the symbolising, the sunlight, which in stanza II was
a glorious birth, has here becomes the symbol for the prosaic and the common and the mortal.
(Ibid, pp. 105-106)
Indeed it is very easy to read the whole stanza as based on a submerged metaphor of the
sun’s progress: the soul is like our life’s star, which has had elsewhere its setting. It rises
upon its world, not in utter nakedness. The trailing clouds of glory suggest the sun rise. The
youth is like the sun, which as it travels further from the east leaves the glory behind it, and
approaches prosaic daylight. But it is the sun itself which projects the prosaic daylight, just as
the man projects the common day which surrounds him, and upon which he now looks
without joy. (Ibid: p. 106)
We expect the poet to say that the child, in being born, is waking up, deserting sleep and
the realm of dream. But instead, our birth he says, is a sleep and forgetting. Reality and
unreality, learning and forgetting, ironically change places. (Ibid; p. 111)
The soul enters human life at our birth as an episode in its immortal life. It is exiled for a
time from its divine home or the divine light which is its source. Only gradually does the
world narrow down into a prison, the vision clouds, the light fails ... The light of the soul that
we inherit transfigures all we see ‘Heaven lies about us in our infancy”, not transcendentally
remote. Our first world is actual, divine and true. The joy of Childhood is a strain of the
Earth’s sweet being in the beginning, in Eden garden’. Only the compelling need to grow into
human maturity narrows and shadows this divine largeness. We grow into the prison of our
days, as we grow up, and the fresh transfiguring light of the dawn of human life revealing all
things to our awakened senses is gradually changed by us into a common light that
illuminates mere objects.
Imaginatively read as Wordsworth invites us to read it, this stanza is not in the least like
a statement of belief in pre-existence. It is the account of our universal human experience, in
terms of myth. And it relates itself, as it must to the whole meaning of incarnation. (Alec
King, Critics on Wordsworth, Universal Book Stall, New Delhi, pp. 93-94).

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 ...tells us where the visionary gleam has gone by telling us where it came from. It is a
remnant of pre-existence in which we enjoyed a way of seeing and knowing now almost
wholly , gone from us. We come into the world not with minds that are merely tabulae rasae
(clean slates) but with a kind of attendant light, the vestige of an existence otherwise
obliterated from our memories. In infancy and childhood the recollection is relatively strong,
but it fades as we move forward into earthly life. Maturity with its habits and its cares and its
increase of distance from our celestial origin, wears away the light of recollection. (Lionel
Trilling, The Liberal Imagination, Oxford University Press, p. 135).
Study Notes
11. Our... forgetting : literally it means, the soul enters human body at our birth and
forgets its heavenly abode and therefore it sleeps and forgets it divine origin. Wordsworth is
using the Platonic belief in Pre-existence as a myth only for poetic reasons.
5-6. Not... nakedness : It has not completely forgotten its divine origin. It still has
vestiges of its heavenly home which lend celestial light to common sight. Not only the soul is
not in “utter nakedness, but the objects it sees are not in ‘utter nakedness’ too.
7-9. trailing ... infancy : Soul’s descent from heaven to earth is on the wings of glory so
that when it enters life, heaven is not something remote, it lies about us in our immediate
surroundings. The glory of the soul, of its trailing clouds is so powerful that it makes the
common earth also celestial.
10-17. Shades of prison-house ... common day : the gradual decrease in the strength of
celestial light, slowly removes the child away and away from his divine source as it grows or
as the sun moves towards west away from its day-spring in the east. The apparels of celestial
light are removed bit by bit, or the earth is derobed of its heavenly light in stages till it
becomes ordinary earth. The transformation of glorious earth into a prison is described in
stages. The glory lives in the Boy and in the Youth but dies in the Man.
8.6 Stanza VI
The Role of Earth
Earth performs her motherly duty and helps man in forgetting his imperial palace, his
divine origin. The earth as a kindly foster mother entices the child with its earthly pleasures
and the man becomes an inmate of the prison-house. The Child makes the earth celestial in
stanza I and here the earth makes the child un-celestial. The Earth here stands not as an
aspect of Nature but as something antithetical to heaven : ‘there hath passed away a glory
from earth.’
In trying to make the child forget the unearthly or supernatural glory, the Earth is acting
out of kindness. The poet cannot find it in him to blame her. She wants the child to be at
home. Here we come close upon a Wordsworthian pun, though doubtless an unpremeditated
pun. In calling the earth, the homely Nurse’, there seems a flicker of this suggestion: the earth
wants the child to be at home. Yet ‘homely’ must surely mean also ‘unattractive, plain. She is
the drudging common earth after all, homely, perhaps a little stupid, but sympathetic and

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kind. Yet it is precisely this earth, which was once glorious to the poet, ‘Apparelled in
celestial light.’
First, the stanza definitely insists that the human soul is not merely natural. We do not of
course, as Wordsworth himself suggested, have to take literally the doctrine about pre-
existence, but the stanza makes it quite clear, I think, that man’s soul brings an alien element
into nature, a supernatural element. The child is of royal birth - ‘that imperial palace whence
he came’ - the Earth, for all her motherly affection, is only his foster mother after all. The
submerged metaphor at work here is that of foundling prince reared by peasants, though the
phrase ‘her inmate-man’ suggests an even more sinister relation: Inmate can only mean
inmate of the prison-house of the previous stanza.
The second implication is thus: since the earth is really homely, the stanza underlies
what has been hinted earlier: namely, that it is the child who confers the radiance the morning
world upon which he looks with delight, the irony is that if the child looks long enough at
that world, becomes deeply involved in its beauties, the celestial radiance itself disappears.
Cleanth Brooks, The Well Wrought Urn, Methuen, London, p.113).
This stanza is the second of the four stanzas in which Wordsworth states and develops
the theme of the reminiscence of the light of heaven and its gradual evanescence through the
maturing years.
Wordsworth who spoke of the notion of imperial pre-existence as being adumbrated by
Adams fall, uses the words, “earth” and “earthly” in the common quasi-religious sense to
refer to the things of this world. He does not make earth synonymous with Nature for
although man is the true child of Nature, he is the foster-child of Earth. (Lionel Trilling,
p.143)
Study Notes
1. Earth : the de-robed earth, as we see it at end of stanza V. The celestially appareled
earth at the time of birth is heaven, but the de-robed earth is a prison. The earth here stands
for something antithetical to heaven and not to the earth as an aspect of Nature.
2. Natural kind : kindly feelings, the earth, the foster-mother does not want the exiled
child to live as a stranger, therefore it entices the Child with all the pleasures it has in her lap
in order to domesticate him as an Inmate of her prison.
Imperial palace : His home, the heaven. “From God, who is our home” (Stanza V.8)
8.7 Stanza VII
Growth or Decay? An Analysis-I
The stanza describes, the child’s growth, very delicately. The child is unconsciously but
willingly learning the customs of life. He takes pleasure in it. The learning involves
unconscious forgetting of his visionary gleam. He is not sorry about it that is the big sad irony
of human life. The leaning and the forgetting are coalesced into each other. He takes pleasure

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in it since at this stage it is the coalescence of the ‘living’ soul into “not merely things but
‘life of things’. Everything that the child learns, every skill that he acquires gets attired in his
childlike innocence. That is why the learning at this stage is not an earthly freight or a dead
custom, but new-born blisses for the ‘Darling of a pigmy size ‘daring to embrace the whole
life, the entire universe. The entire growth at this stage is two-directional, one direction is
given by ‘some fragment of his dream of human life. His dream of human life is entirely
different from the one that is imposed upon him by his mother’s affection and his father’s
guidance. The child imitates everything, be it a wedding, a festival, a funeral, a dialogue of
business, of love of strife. ‘He imitates all the stages of life, the childhood, youth, middle age,
life in all its forms right up to death before a man gets palsied as if his whole vocation were
endless imitation.’ His pleasure is that of the imitator, his involvement is that of the actor. He
plays one role, forgets it and jumps on to the other. And every role or every person he plays,
he imparts his own heart, his own dream to it. Everything he does gels unconsciously
subsumed into ‘the child’s ‘fragment of a dream of human life.
The child is learning to live away from the imperial palace. The earth his foster mother
is trying to domesticate him. The entire process is a clash between two lights, ‘light upon him
from his father’s eyes ‘, and the light that still comes from without his heart. The child is
being baptised into a religion he does not understand’ but can very well imitate. The child is
gradually losing his memory of his divine origin (‘our birth is but a sleep and forgetting’) and
the vacuum thus created is being gradually filled by his duplication or imitation of everything
that he has seen of this earthly life. His memory of his divine origin is being replaced by his
memory of human life in all its forms and aspects.
Wordsworth is obviously trying to establish his own attitude towards the child’s insight.
In the earlier stanzas, he has attempted to define the quality of the visionary gleam and to
account for its inevitable loss. Now he attempts to establish more definitely his attitude
towards the whole experience. One finds him here, as a consequence, no longer trying to
recapture the childhood joy or lamenting its loss, but withdrawing to a more objective and
neutral position. (Cleanth Brooks, The Well Wrought Urn, Methuen : London, p. 114).
In a well-known essay “Stages in the Development of the sense of reality. The
distinguished psychoanalyst Ferenczi speaks of the child’s reluctance to distinguish
between himself and the world and of the slow growth of objectivity which differentiates the
self from external things And Freud himself, dealing with the “Oceanic” sensation of being at
one with the universe” which a literary friend had supposed to be the source of religious
emotions, conjectures that it is a vestige of the infant’s state of feeling before he has learned
to distinguish between the stimuli of his own sensations and those of the world outside.
(Lionel Trilling, The Liberal Imagination, Oxford University Press, p. 137).
Study Notes
1. new-born blisses : it includes birth: the memories of heaven and the pleasures of earth.

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 2. pigmy size : it emphasizes the contrast between his physical size and his visionary
powers. It also emphasizes the innocent efforts made by the pigmy size to learn everything
about ‘Man and his customs”.
4-5. Some fragment.... art : Child’s idea of human life is ‘his’ dream, it means his idea
of human life is envisioned by the celestial light that he still possess. He translates this en\
isioned idea of human life with the skills which are taught to him, or which he learns and
which are not sufficient. But the child does not knwo that his skills are not adequate enough
to express his envisioned idea or his dream of human life. That is why the paintings or
drawings made by the Children are unique in their own ways.
15-16. But it..... pride : but nothing occupies his mind or heart for long, sicne nothing
on this earth can contain the energy or the glory he possesses.
18. Cons another part: the allusion, in this line and the next, is to the speech in
Shakespeare’s As you Like It (11.7) in which Jacques compares man to an act or who plays in
turn each of the seven roles that take him from his cradle to grave. ‘Humorous state’ is a
quotation from a poem by Samuel Daniel (1562-] 619).
8.8 Stanza VIII
Growth or Decay? An Analysis–II
The poet exalts the immensity of the “Pigmy’ child’s soul. The poet calls the child the
best philosopher, “an eye among the blind’/ That deaf and silent reads the eternal
deep/Haunted forever by the eternal mind”. You have just read about Freud’s “Oceanic”’
“sensations” of being at one with the universe”. To be ‘at one with the universe’ is according
to Wordsworth, man’s sole concern in life. It is the only condition of mind which can bring
happiness in a man’s life. The child possesses this power, because of his soul and its
attendant light, and he can therefore see the universe appareled in celestial light. He is not
afraid of the eternal deep sea of life, since he is being inspired by an eternal mind (God
himself) can read and understand the sea of life. His soul can unconsciously see through the
mystery of this universe. He is therefore the best philosopher. His philosophy is not a
medicine, a means or a solution for certain problems in life, since he knows of no problems,
he is perfect or complete in himself since he has inherited a sense of Oneness with the
universe. He is an eye among the blind, he is a visionary. He has attained what others will
give their life to achieve. The poet cannot understand why this immortal child wants to grow
into a mortal man. The poet is at a loss to know why the mighty immortal soul struggles so
earnestly to survive and live only to become a mortal and bear the burden of dead customs.
The immense (giant) soul of the pigmy child wants to grow only to be dwarfed. The poet
cannot understand the eagerness of the celestial light to decay into ordinary common sight.
The names for the child, ‘Philosopher’ ‘prophet’, ‘seer’, are deliberately an outrage on
our understanding...But the names, by their very un-childlikeness of tone, point at the
meaning of what was given with the gift of life to a new creature, of what we are trying
always to remember; the immensity of grace, absoluteness of being whose strength and
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freedom we only understand when we have lost the first positive innocence which is its
proper channel.
Wordsworth’s idea of splendid power is his protest against all views of the mind that
would limit and debase it. By conceiving as he does, an intimate connection between mind
and universe, by seeing the universe fitted to the mind and the mind to the universe, he
bestows upon man a dignity which cannot be derived by looking at him in the actualities of
common life from seeing him engaged in business, in morality and politics. (Lionel Trilling,
The Liberal Imagination, Oxford University Press, p. 142).
“The Child who sees does not know that he sees and is not even aware that others are
blind. Indeed he is trying his best (or soon will try his best) to become blind like others. Yet
in this most extravagant passage in the poem, Wordsworth keeps the balance. In the child we
are dealing with the isolated fact of vision. The eye, taken as an organ of sense, is naturally
deaf and silent. The child cannot tell what he reads in the eternal deep, nor can he hear the
poets’ naming that he is actually... trying to castaway his vision. If the passage seems the high
point of extravagance, it is also a high point of ironic qualification. (Cleanth Brooks, The
Well Wrought Urn, Methuen : London. pp. 108-109).
Study Notes
1. exterior semblance : the external appearance which has a pigmy size.
4. Thy heritage : The glory or the celestial light which the Child inherits from God, or
which the Soul brings from its divine home.
5. Eye-blind : eye which perceives the wholeness of life in this universe, the eye which
unites the mind with the life of things.
5, deaf and silent : cannot speak, or express what he knows and cannot listen to the
poet’s warning to the Child that he is inviting his own doom.
8-13. On whom .... put by : The child knows the meaning of this universe which we
forget in our self created grave-like darkness and are trying our best to arrive at certain truths
(and we may not always succeed) which are natural to the Child, The immortality of Child’s
vision which incorporates these truths is a presence which cannot be destroyed. We read of
similar presence in Tintern Abbey (stanza IV 95-102.)
16-21. The poet does not understand the Child’s desire to grow from immortality to
mortality. Why does the Child take pains to invite the Yoke of lifeless existence. ‘“How to
hold the ‘Child’ within ourselves, to remember it as an always- potentially-present state of
being, as our own immortality - to hold this within ourselves even while we are hauling and
pushing our visible Childhood with the help and the examples of our elders into the
prescribed patterns of our adult life ? This is what the poem asks and asks” Alec King, Critics
on Wordsworth, Universal Book Depot. New Delhi p.95.

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8.9 Stanza IX
The Role of Memory
The entire stanza celebrates the power of memory to recreate the divine loss or loss of
divinity of the celestial light or visionary gleam. ‘The nature yet remembers/What was so
fugitive!’ Man living close to nature, and not the mechanized man living in the din of cities
remembers or nature helps a man to remember what was so fugitive or so eager to leave the
earthly environments where it simply cannot survive. Nature can still rekindle the celestial
light (so fugitive) by lifting it out of the embers of ‘earthly freight’ and customs heavy as
frost which smother it. This stanza reminds us of what happens to Wordsworth in stanza II
and IV in Tintern Abbey. The poet earlier tried to relive the child’s world of ‘sweet May-
morning’ in stanza IV but had failed. Now he does the same thing with the help of Nature
which activates his memory.
The poet now prays to bless not the child who is a symbol of delight, liberty and a ‘new-
fledged hope’. The Child, the ‘best philosopher’, ‘glorious in the might’ does not need any
blessings. The poet seeks a blessing for those efforts made helplessly and innocently to fight
with the falling ‘shades of prison-house’, to fight with foster-mother and her pleasures -
‘Fallings from us, vanishings;/Blank misgivings of a creature/ moving about in world not
realized.’ The poet seeks benedictions for the child’s obstinate questionings, before he is
made to accept his new dwelling place. The child unconsciously struggles against the walls of
the ‘prison-house’ being imposed upon him by us and desires to withdraw into his celestial
world. The poet is all praise for these high instincts before which ‘our mortal Nature/Did
tremble like a guilty thing surprised.’ The poet also seeks benedictions for those moments (of
memory) which first united him with the celestial light, after he was deprived of it by the
efforts of his ‘foster-mother’. ‘The song of thanks and praise’ is ‘for those first
affections/Those shadowy recollections.’ Those first affections have now become the
‘fountain light’, the light that comes from the source, the light that inspires and the master
light, the light that guides and directs our course to universal truths which are immortal and
unite us with the eternal silence. The first affections take us nearer our soul, ‘that rises with
us, our life’s star’. In Tintern Abbey also Wordsworth tells us of ‘a ... blessed mood/In which
the affections gently lead us on’ (40-41), ‘And I have felt/A presence that disturbs me with a
joy’ (93-94). This humanized joy animated by ‘first affections’ and ‘shadowy recollections’
can never be dehumanized. And ‘though inland far we be’; we may be withdrawn far away
from ‘the celestial light’ , from ‘the visionary gleam’ into the shadows of prison-house, our
souls can always return to the shores of immortal sea where the immortal children are
playing, quite in tune with its rhythm, understanding its meaning. A child like ‘The Ancient
Mariner’ does not need a voyage to understand the meanings of the mystery of the immortal
sea.
Wordsworth has said that the child as the best philosopher ‘read’st the eternal deep’ and
here for the time in the poem we have the children brought into explicit juxtaposition with the
deep. And how, according to the poem, are these best philosophers reading it ? By sporting
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on the shore ... The lines are great poetry. They are great poetry because, although the sea is
the sea of eternity, and the mighty waters ... rolling ever-more, the children are not terrified
— are at home — are filled with innocent joy. The children, exemplify the attitude towards
eternity (which the other -philosopher, the mature philosopher, wins with difficulty, if he
wins at all. For the children are those on whom these truths do rest, Which we are toiling all
our lives to find. ( Cleanth Brooks, The Well Wrought Urn, Methuen : London, p. 117).
... it was Wordsworth’s deep wisdom that he saw how we must remember our invisible
childhood as we grow older, since we cannot preserve it, and the mystery of childhood is that
we do not know the blessedness we were born into until we remember it after it has been lost,
and in remembering it we remake our lives, we recreate ourselves through imagination and
memory ... When we have been matured by living, we may if we are wise, not look away
from the immortality of our own life, nor look back at it through the mists of years in longing,
but look inward to find it again, and to love it even more than when we belonged to it in
unconscious childhood... Our invisible (immortal) childhood is fugitive, it dies away, but
remains a perpetual possibility, as a light which has gone out in fires still stays to be reborn
from the embers. Light is not born from embers by its own will but by a breath from outside:
it is not we but nature that remembers what was so fugitive ... Our visible childhood is
‘delight’ and ‘liberty’, active ‘hope’; the transfiguring of all objects in the light of the mind
which nature encourages in us is felt by the visible child with misgivings and bewilderment.
The falling and vanishing into ‘thought’ of the solid world, the child’s sense that what he is
looking at is becoming insubstantial, a part of his own mind, so that like the child
Wordsworth himself grasps at a well or tree to recall himself to the solid earth- The
ambiguity of Eden is always a perplexity; for the children who really live there do not know
they want it and are always ‘trying to leave;, and the adults who dream of its effortless joy do
so from human fatigue and confusion... Adam and Eve, in their unfallen state, would have
painted pictures like children. Only after their expulsion from Eden would they have been
able to create great works (‘Truth that wake/To perish never’) knowing then the terrible
liveliness (Eternal Silence) of God which they had lost and were trying to find again. (Alec
King, Critics on Wordsworth, Universal Book Stall, New Delhi, pp. 96-98).
...the Ode tells us again what has happened to the ‘visionary gleam’: it has not wholly fled for
it is still remembered. The possession of childhood has been passed on as a legacy to the
child’s heir, the adult man; for the mind, as the rainbow epigraph also says, is one and
continuous, and what was so-intense a light in childhood becomes the fountain light of all our
day and master light of all our seeing, that is, of our adult day and our mature seeing. The
child’s recollection of his heavenly home exists in the recollection of the adult. (Lionel
Trilling, The Liberal Imagination Oxford University Press, p. 135).
Compare these lines of Stanza X (1-7) ‘Then, sing... May’ with the first ten lines of stanza III.
In stanza III the poet feels depressed since he cannot participate in this world. Here the poet
after being blessed by the envisioned memory of the child is happy with their song. He still

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cannot participate in this world of the Nature. Though he cannot physically participate he can
participate in thought.
The lines remind us of Tintern Abbey where the poet remembers his physical delight in
nature and knows that he is no more capable of it since he is a changed man (Stanza IV of the
poem).
Study Notes
1. embers : The embers of a fire or small pieces of partly burnt coal, wood etc. that
remain and glow with heat after the fire has finished burning. Here it means the glow of the
celestial light is buried under the heaps of earthly freight or the weight of the customs which
are heavy as frost.
3. nature yet remembers : it is nature which enlivens the mind of the man with the
memory of the celestial light. Cleanth Brooks thinks of this poem as a celebration of the
influence of Nature on the developing mind. (The Well Wrought Urn, Methuen : London, p. 1
12).
4. fugitive : here it means, eager to return. lasting for a short time, mark the emphasis on
the word ‘so’ it reminds us of celestial light and gleam of stanza I and IV respectively.
6. benediction : is a prayer asking God to bless someone.
6-9. not indeed ...... Childhood : The poet is not seeking blessings for Childhood of
stanza I, IV and VII. since it does not need his blessings. (It is the poet or the Man who needs
being blessed by the Child who is a symbol of delight and liberty).
13-16. Obstinate questionings... vanishings : a persistent probe to seek legitimacy for
earth and its objects, and what the child is taught by his elders. The more he tries to grapple
with the earthly objects, the more they keep on disappearing. The lines correspond with
Wordsworth’s personal experiences in his own childhood after his mother’s death. The earth
is the foster-mother of stanza 6 which is trying to entice the Child into her prison and not the
earth of stanza I which the Child transforms into heaven.
17-18. Blank misgivings .... realised : meaningless fears which a Child encounters
when the tries to comprehend the reality of this world. Lionel Trilling writes , “Inevitably we
resist change and turn back with passionate nostalgia to the stage we are leaving still, we
fulfill ourselves by choosing what is painful and difficult and necessary, and we develop by
moving toward death. (The Liberal Imagination, p 141)
18-19. High ... surprised : Compared with the Child’s innate power and the basic
innocence of this power, his mortal frame trembles as it feels guilty about what it is doing i.e.
criminally pushing itself from immortality to mortality.
20. first affections : The affection of the Child for nature (stanza I) which transforms
the earth into heaven by virtue of his celestial light.
21. Shadowy recollection : dim memories brought to us by nature.
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 23. fountain light: the source of our inspiration.
24. master light: The light which guides us.
25-28. upholds... to perish never : The memory, or the shadowy recollections of
Childhood, unfolds in us certain visions, which are immortal and which carry us through the
meaningless noise of earthly life and keep us united with the eternal silence which belongs to
God and hence our home.
29-32. listlessness ... destroy : listlessness and mad endeavour remind us of stanza IV
where the poet is happy that he is not sullen and then he makes a mad endeavour to enter the
world of Child only to be disillusioned and come back with the questions whither is fled the
visionary gleam.’ The words Boy and Man take us back to stanza V which says the very
growth of Child into ‘Boy’, ‘Youth’ and ‘man’ means his gradual decay towards death, since
growth means his moving away from his divine home. So all the forces which tempt the
Child to grow are enemies of his joy which we see in him in stanza IV where the children are
culling flowers or in the last lines of this stanza where the Children sport upon the shore of
the immortal sea. The memory of Childhood creates for the poet some visionary truths which
are more immortal than the immortality of the Child. It is the development from ‘best
philosopher’ of stanza VIII to ‘philosophic mind’ of stanza X.
34. Though inland far we be : removed farther away from our childhood, its celestial
light and visionary gleam.
35. Our souls : our life’s star of stanza V can take us back to immortal sea, the source of
our origin to see the immortal children playing on its shore.
8.10 Stanza X
How Memory Blessed By Nature Fights the Loss
The world of ‘sweet May-morning’ of stanza III and IV (19-50) is revisited, but only in
thought with the help of remembered ‘fugitive’. In stanza III, the poet was unhappy that he
was mentally incapacitated to enjoy, the beauty of the “heart of May”. In stanza IV his
auditory participation in the celebrations of May-dawn is short-lived and the realisation of his
loss and consequent alienation from this may-world of children culling fresh-flowers, comes
as an abrupt shock in the form of questions ‘Where is fled the visionary gleam ? Where is it
now, the glory and the dream?’ The questions are answered in stanza IX when he says that
‘Nature yet remembers/What was so fugitive.’ Stanza X and XI further elaborate
Wordsworth’s mood which changes from complain and despair to that of a philosophic
strength. The poet is not sad that he will never be able to feel the celestial light; ‘Be now
forever taken from my sight/Though nothing can bring back the hour/Of splendour in the
grass, of glory in the flower’. Although the loss is as great as it was in stanza III and IV yet
the poet is not depressed. That is why ‘Birds’ and ‘Lambs’ now begin with capital letters.
Since now they are animated and defined in a different way by his memory of the fugitive.
The poet therefore ‘grieves not’ since the visionary gleam is now replaced by a primal

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sympathy which gives him a philosophic understanding of human suffering and provides a
new strength to live with it. This primal sympathy which grows out of sensitive perception of
human suffering alone can make mankind survive. The stanza reminds us of stanza IV of
Tintern Abbey wherein he talks of the ‘still sad music of humanity.’
The immortality of the childhood vision gives birth to a new vision of human life and
this vision is rooted in primal sympathy. In a general sense we know what Wordsworth is
doing here: the Childhood vision is only one aspect of the primal sympathy; this vision has
been lost— is, as the earlier stanzas show, inevitably lost, but the primal sympathy remains. It
is the faculty by which we live. The continuity between the child and the man is actually
unbroken. (Cleanth Brooks, The Well Wrought Urn, Methuen, p.l21).
The child hands on to the hampered adult the imperial nature, ‘the primal sympathy/
which having been must ever be,’ the mind fitted to the universe, the universe to the mind.
The sympathy is not so pure and intense in maturity as in childhood, but only because another
relation grows up beside the relation of man to Nature- the relation of man of his fellows in
the moral world of difficulty and pain. Given Wordsworth’s epistemology the new relation is
bound to change the very aspect of Nature itself: the clouds will take a sober colouring from
an eye that hath kept watch over man’s mortality but a sober color is a color still. (Lionel
Trilling, The Liberal Imagination, Oxford University Press, p. 143).
The deepest paradox of all. revealed so dramatically in the Ode, is that the wisdom of
life compels the child away from his beatitude of innocence to reach a more difficult and
fuller beatitude if he can. (Alec King, Critics on Wordsworth, Universal Book Stall, New
Delhi, p. 100).
Study notes
8-11 Radiance ...: The celestial light of stanza I will never he restored to the poet.
14. Primal: The word primal is used to describe something that relates to the causes or
origin of things. Here it means the primal sympathy with which the child was born which
appareled the earth and common sight with a celestial light.
12-19. We will... philosophic mind : The memory of the celestial light provides the
poet with a new strength and a vision which restores in the poet a primal sympathy which is
of greater significance. Child’s sympathy embraced only nature but the poet’s primal
sympathy in which Nature, no doubt plays a very crucial role (Stanza 1X,3) also includes
human suffering. The loss of ‘best philosopher’ is no longer regretted, since the philosophic
mind that the best philosopher has given birth to, can cope with earthly freight and the threat
of mortality.
8.11 Stanza XI
The New Vision
The new vision which is rooted in primal sympathy and takes into reckoning the human
sufferings gives a new dimension to ‘Fountain Meadows, Hills and Groves’. All therefore
begin with capital letters as compared to stanza I where the Child with a capital C apparels
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them with a celestial light. No, the relation of love is not broken but he can no longer be a
passive receiver of the pleasure which their majestic beauty used to impart. He loves them
even more than he used to when he was young. The new born day is as lovely as it used to be
in stanzas III and IV. In fact the depth of his relationship with Nature, and the immensity of
his love for Nature have acquired a new dimension. Therefore it is not the rainbow dancing
now, but it is the clouds who receive a sober colour from the ‘eye’ which has kept a watch
over man’s mortality. The suffering humanity receives strength and comfort from the primal
sympathy that nature inspires, in man. Nature also is alive to man’s misery and mortality. The
relationship of Nature with the mighty Child lies in their sharing of immortal bliss, a celestial
light, the relationship of nature with the mature man lies in their sharing the mortal misery of
helpless mankind. The poem ends in a tribute, not to Nature, not to the immortal child, but to
human heart and its primal sympathy (which it acquires as a legacy from the Child, by its
remembrance of the fugitive). This heart, is grateful to Nature for the role it plays in
rekindling the fire in the embers. Therefore ‘the meanest flower that blows can give/Thoughts
that often lie too deep for tears.’
The poem is about the human heart- its growth, its nature, its development...... Theology,
ethics, education are touched upon. But the emphasis is not upon these .... The greatness of
the Ode 1ies in the fact that Wordsworth is going about the poet’s business here and is not
trying to inculcate anything. It is with this theme that the poem closes. Thanks are given not
to God, at least in this poem, but to human heart ‘by which we live’..... It is because of the
nature of human heart that the meanest flower can give, if not the joy of the celestial light,
something which the poet says is not sorrow and which he implies is deeper than joy
‘Thoughts that too often lie too deep for tears’ ... if we say that celestial light is the flame
which is beautiful but which must inevitably burn itself out, the primal sympathy is still-
glowing ... we are forced to realise that such extension is over-ingenious. (Cleanth Brooks,
The Well Wrought Urn, Methuen : London, p. 120-22).
“There is a sorrow in the Ode, the inevitable sorrow of giving up an old habit of vision
for a new one. In shifting the centre of his interest from Nature to man in the field of morality
Wordsworth is fulfilling his own conception of the three ages of man.” (Lionel Trilling, The
Liberal Imagination, Oxford University Press, p. 144).
Study Notes
1-2 ‘And O. ,. Loves’ : read stanza one, meadow grove, stream begin with small letters, stand
as they do before the celestial light of the Child. Here Fountains Meadows, Hills and Groves
all begin with capital letters. Since it is they who inspire a philosophic mind in the poet by
reminding him of ‘what was so fugitive ‘. This philosophic mind includes in its vision the
suffering humanity. But the inclusion of man does not mean that the poet will severe his
relations with Nature.

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4-5 I ... sway : The poet is no more the priest of nature as he was in his youth, or cannot
perceive habitual joy in nature as he did when he was a boy, Now he is aware of the suffering
of mankind, so he has given up those selfish pleasures.
6-12 :1 love Nature even more today since I am aware of man’s mortality. Nature
though it is as lovely as it used to be, is also sympathetic with me in my grief. The clouds
therefore take a sober colouring from the ‘eye’ which has been watching man’s mortality.
The poem begins with the ‘glorious birth of sun-shine and ends with sober clouds round the
setting sun ‘that has kept a watch over man’s mortality’. The glorious birth of sun-shine and
nature in stanza II celebrates the birth of Childhood. Now the setting sun and the sympathetic
and sobered clouds mourn his mortality. The only thing that is immortal is the vision of the
poet which though inherited from the Child includes in it not only Nature and the poet’s love
for Nature but also the poet’s concern and love for the suffering humanity.
13. Another race... palms are won : Wordsworth is looking back over his Childhood
days and decides that the challenges accepted then (in what he now sees to have been another
race) and the victories won (other palms) are firmly in the past, but fresh challenges and the
hope of new victories greet the mature man.
14-17 Thanks to human heart... deep for tears : Read stanza X (4-7) ‘we in thought...
through your hearts today/Feel the gladness,’ of the poet’s thought or the growth of mind
from the child’s heart (which apparels the earth with a celestial light) to human heart which
can feel the suffering of mankind (while it is still in love with Nature). So it is not only the
growth of mind but there is corresponding, more humane growth. It is the growth of human
heart which loves life in all its forms. Therefore in this enlightened mood even the meanest
flower can inspire in him thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.’

9. A CRITICAL REVIEW
G. Wilson Knight writes:
The Ode on Intimations of Immortality is probably Wordsworth’s most finally
satisfying human work. Here he houses many favourite intuitions in majestic light;
marries his dearest inward feelings to a highly charged impressionism pastoral and
royalistic; and faces the intoxication of a sunlight creation. It is his only poem at once
human, happy and powerful. The Ode stands the test of his description of great poetry
in The Prelude; in it that ‘host of shadowy things’ (shadow is an important word for
Coleridge too) finds its proper home; all mysterial ‘substances’ are suffused with
‘light divine’, the ‘turnings of intricate verse’, a phrase peculiarly apt to this poem,
aiding poetic mastery. Though the subject still be childhood, the poem is more
technically erotic than most, a symbolic union with the child-symbol performing a
central and most important resolution of dynamic immediacy; poetic excitement
locked imperishably to live a tranquil yet pulsing memorial of creative joy. Technical
and formal elaboration, whether in symbolism or rhyme-scheme forces the poet into
an especially condensed precision. Art is born from a jerking of consciousness outside

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 and above itself, throwing responsibility on to a higher centre, and the technical
strictures are the medium through which this other domination is conjured into
existence. That sense of young joy so often mentioned in The Prelude now very
subtly possesses the reader too; we are inside Wordsworth’s own ecstasy. In The
Prelude a very personal feeling tends, except in the great numinous passages, to
suffuse bare narration of objective fact. Though the central experience of The Prelude
is directly included, its method is here dramatically reversed: a subjective experience
is through a clear technique, perfectly objectified. (G. Wilson Knight, The Starlit
Dome, Oxford University Press, 1971, pp. 38-39).
This poem, G. Wilson Knight says, celebrates the poet’s ecstasy, But some critics
believe that it mourns a loss.
Geoffrey Durant writes :
...how it is possible for Wordsworth to regard ‘the mighty world of eye and ear’ is a
prison house, in which the only illumination comes to us fitfully in memories of the
transcendental world. This is possible only by an inversion of thought, or by a
transposition of terms, in which the process of growing is no longer what it was in
‘Three years she grew’ – a harmonious awakening of the mind by the complex
influences of nature, but the progressive enslavement of Child by the world of sense. In
the Immortality Ode :
‘nature and the language of sense’.
(‘Tintern Abbey, 108)
are no longer the
‘guide the guardian of my heart, and soul
of all my moral being’.
(‘Tintern Abbey 110-11)
but drugs with which we are lulled into forgetfulness of the transcendental
brightness. (Geoffrey Durant, Wordsworth And the Great System, Cambridge University
Press, pp 110-11).
It is a fact that Wordsworth included this poem among Epitaphs and Elegiac
Pieces: When Wordsworth arranged his poems in groups for a collective edition in
1815, he included his Ode : Intimation of Immortality from Recollections of Early
Childhood (1807) among The Epitaphs and Elegiac Pieces along with ‘Elegiac
Stanzas suggested by a Picture of Peele Castel” (1807) rather than among poems of
the Imagination along with Tintern Abbey or even among Poems Referring to the
period of Childhood along with the Idle Shepherds’(1800). This decision and the title
of the Ode itself are useful hints that although celebration of Childhood are
characteristics of Wordsworth, he was prepared at times to use them as means rather
than end. A conventional elegy mourns the death of an individual, meditates upon the
unhappy condition of mankind, and finds comfort in the realization that the dead
person must be happier in Heaven. Intimations omits the occasion of a particular
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 death, begins with an aspect of unhappy conditions of man, and develops an ingenious
relationship between it and the happiness of heaven and attempts to reconcile us to the
inevitability of growing old and dying. (J. R. Jackson, Poetry of the Romantic Period,
Routledge Kegan Paul, London, p. 188).
We have by now three views of ‘The Ode’. G. Wilson Knight believes that it drives us within
the corridors of Wordsworth’s ecstasy, Durrant believes, it denies Wordsworth’s basic vision
of nature and Jackson believes that this poem, is a means to an end, an end which
simultaneously brings us nearer immortality and death.
Wordsworth in his notes about this poem says :
This was composed during my residence at Town end, Grasmere. Two years at least
passed between the writing of the first stanzas (1803) and the remaining part (1806). To the
attentive and competent reader the whole sufficiently explains itself, but there is no harm in
referring here to particular feelings or experiences of my own mind on which the structure of
the poem rests. Nothing was more difficult for me in Childhood than to admit the action of
death as a state applicable to my own being. I have said elsewhere :
A simple Child,
That lightly draws its breath,
And feels its life in every limb,
What should it know of death :
But it was not so much from feelings of animal vivacity that my difficulty came as from
a sense of the indomitableness of the spirit within me. I used to brood over the stories of
Enoch and Elijah, and almost to persuade myself that, whatever might become of others, I
should be translated, in something of the same way, to heaven. With a feeling congenial to
this, I was often unable to think of external things as having external existence, and I
commuted with all that I saw as something not apart from, but inherent in my own immaterial
nature. Many time while going to school have I grasped at a wall or tree to recall myself from
this abyss of idealism to the reality. At that time, I was afraid of such processes. In later
periods of life I have developed as we have all reason to do a subjugation of an opposite
character, and have rejoiced over the remembrances, as is expressed in the lines-
Obstinate questions,
Of sense and outward things,
Fallings from us, vanishings ! etc.
To the dream-like vividness and splendour which invest objects of sight in Childhood.
Every one, I believe, if he would look back, could bear testimony, and I need not dwell upon
it here : but having in the poem regarded it as presumptive evidence of a prior state of
existence, I think it right to protest against a conclusion, which has given pain to some good
and pious persons, that I meant to inculcate such a belief. It is far too shadowy a notion to be
recommended to faith, as more than an element in our instincts of immortality. But let us bear
in mind that, though the idea not advanced in our ‘revelation’, there is nothing to contradict it
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and the fall of Man presents an analogy in its favour. Accordingly, pre-existent state has
entered into the popular creeds of many nations; and among all persons acquainted with
classic literature, is known as an ingredient in Platonic philosophy. Archimedes said that he
could move the world if he had a point where on to rest his machine. Who has not felt the
same aspiration as regards the world of his own mind ? Having to wield some of its elements
when I was impelled to write this poem on the Immortality of Soul, I took hold of the notion
of pre-existence as having sufficient foundation in humanity for authorising me to make for
my purpose the best use of it I could as a poet. (The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth
edited by Ernest De Selin Court , Oxford, 1940-5, IV, p. 463).
If the soul is immortal, it cannot have a beginning, it cannot have an end. Immortality
does not simply mean ‘death negated’ or that the soul after death goes to heaven. The big
question is where does this soul come from ? Is the immortal soul a creation of human life, of
mortals ? The very concept of immortality cannot accommodate this absurd idea. The soul
must have its origin in heaven whether we believe in Platonic philosophy or Adam’s fall. But
Wordsworth here is unconsciously fighting with the shock of his brother’s death which
perhaps reminded him of his mother’s death also. This also may be the reason why he placed
this poem among ‘The Epitaphs and Elegiac Stanza’s.’. His brother’s death reminds him of
his own childhood when he was not prepared to accept death as his own personal fate. This
reminds him of the Child’s view of Nature and Man’s view of Nature. The Child’s view of
Nature is given in the first four stanza’s of the poem. Child does not find any otherness in
Nature. The stanza III and IV describe the Child participating in the festival of May-morning
along with flowers, birds, lambs and Nature in all its aspects. The soul of the Child finds the
same life breathing in all these forms of existence. But Man is incapable of feeling the same
pleasure in Nature. Earth which is appareled in Celestial light now becomes the foster
mother. It is the foster mother which drugs the Child away from his Celestial heaven. Earth is
not described here as an aspect of Nature but as something antithetical to heaven. Earth here
is foster mother but a kind mother who wants to help the Child in his exile.
G. Wilson Knight says :
Yet the poet confuses us with more uses of ‘nature’. One is the nature transfigured
indistinguishable from antenatal glory, indeed itself the essential life of which the glory is an
intellectual aspect. But we also have quite another ‘nature;. Earth is a kindly foster-mother to
the divine life born to her arms: ‘yearning she hath in her own natural kind’.
In this passage (stanza VT) ‘natural’ and ‘earth’ are to be contrasted with ‘divine.’ This,
then, is rather the nature of clouded visions : The nature of Wordsworth’s manhood. Now
after the great central invocation, which I inspect later, the poem again returns to this
secondary nature, joying
That nature yet remembers,
What was fugitive ! (The Starlit Dome, p.41)

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So this foster-mother although drugs the man away from his divine origin also reminds him
of this origin.
A little further he says :
This mortal nature, once the vision is gone, is truly a thing of meanness; and indeed a
whole universe separates the one nature from the other. So these recollected life glimmerings,
vague and fitful though they may be, have yet tremendous authority, and are indeed in this
poem given a fine and concrete expression:
But for those first affections,
..................................................
..................................................
.........................truths that wake
To perish never...........
The lights of that death-in-life which we live. They perish never; not subject to mortal-
ity, because though ‘recollections’, they are yet ‘shadows’ of some transcendent victory,
existing with immortal power, and so time itself, ‘Our noisy years’, becomes but a passing
moment in the one vast immediacy of the eternal. (The Starlit Dome, pp 41-44).
The poem is a journey of the soul from the ‘best philosopher’ to the philosophic mind. The
Child’s unconscious recollection of his heavenly home exists in the conscious recollection of
the adult. The adult is doing consciously what the Child was doing unconsciously.
Geoffrey Thurley writes:
What Wordsworth does, is, to take over from Coleridge’s analysis (the wearing away of
inward capacity with experience and adversity) and incorporate it into a greater design. That
numinous joy-which unnamed, informed the opening four stanzas of ‘Intimations of
Immortality’- is absorbed into the dialectic, as it has been articulated by Coleridge, is
recapitulated at a higher level of comprehension and generality: innocence breeds experience,
and experience in turn, breeds the new synthesis of the ‘Thoughts that do often lie too deep
for tears’. ( Geoffrey Thurley, The Romantic Predicament, Macmillan Press, London, p. 125).

The child symbol thus becomes ‘a means to an end’. The end is a mature vision of mankind
and nature.
Lionel Trilling says :
“It is a poem, about growing; some say it is a poem about growing old, but I believe it is
about growing up. It is incidentally a poem about optics, and then, inevitably about
epistemology; it is concerned with ways of seeing and then with ways of knowing ultimately
it is concerned with ways of acting, for as usual with Wordsworth knowledge implies liberty
and power.” (Liberal Imagination, p. 125) .

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Though it is a poem about growing up, it cannot suppress the pain of aging, the pain of
growing away from Childhood as Thomas McFarland believes :
“Indeed Wordsworth’s philosophy of joy almost always seems to be at least in part a product
of the mechanism of denial ... The pattern is recurrent in Wordsworth. For example the
strongest embodiment of the philosophy of joy is in the ‘sing, ye Birds/sing, sing a joyous
song/And let the young lambs bound/As to the tabor’s sound!’ of the Intimations Ode but this
is a conclusion reached not as an apex of ascending gladness, but as a recompense to the
dismal sense that ‘there hath past away a glory from the earth.’ The exclamation, ‘O joy!’ is
engendered not by the sense of life’s fullness, but by the diminished thought ‘that in our
embers/is something that doth live.’ (Thomas McFarland, Romanticism and the Forms of
Ruin, Princeton University Press), p. 160).
“Wordsworth offers a great hymn of acceptance in which knowledge of human suffering is
conceived as adequate compensation for the loss of that inward joy which, he now accepts as
inevitably wearing out with growth. ... The main point is that gleam is still fled,
whether conferred on things by us or merely apprehended by us. Coleridge’s Dejection
shows that he knew too well the condition Wordsworth has described so beautifully. The
power had failed -the power does fail -and the poet is left with ‘ordinary’ reality, the weight
of custom that lies upon us, ‘Heavy as frost, and deep almost as life” (Geoffrey Thurley, The
Romantic Predicament, Macmillan Press, p. 125)
“The pain of moving away from Childhood and its heavenly vision is not denied by
Wordsworth. He only says his new awareness of human suffering which unites man with man
and man with nature in one ‘sentiment of being’ is now dearer to him than even the Child and
his ‘gifted’ vision.
The poem reminds us of Eppie, the Child in George Eliot’s ‘Silas Marner’.
In Silas Marner the arrival of Eppie inaugurates a process of revolutionary change in
Silas’ life. Eppie brings a new kind of religious experience in Silas’ life.
In old days there were angels who came and took men by the hand and led them away
from the city of destruction. We see no white-winged angels now. But yet men are led away
from threatening destruction; a hand is put into theirs, which leads them forth towards a calm
and bright land, so that they look no more backward; and that hand may be a little child’s.
(Silas Marner, Chap. 14)
The ‘first recollections’ of ‘The Immortality Ode’ and the memory of ‘beauteous forms’
in Tintern Abbey are no different from Eppie’s little hand.
The relationship that develops in the novel is something symbolic and legendary. The
Child inspires something divine in the life of Silas, just as Wordsworth’s Child is inspired by
its pre-existent Celestial light. Wordsworth uses the Platonic belief only as a myth for his
poetic purpose to invoke the innocence of Childhood which combines all life and living
things into one living soul.

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 “Only after a lifetime have I come to understand that even a real event may be the
enactment of a myth, and from that take on supernatural meaning and power. In such cases
myth is the truth of the fact, not fact the truth of the myth.” (Kathleen Raine, Defending
Ancient Springs, pp. 123-4).

10. Select Bibliography

Herbet Read, Wordsworth (Faber And Faber, 1975),
John Puriks ‘A Preface to Wordsworth (Longman, 1970).
Helen Darbishire, The Poet Wordsworth (Oxford University Press, 1966).
Ernest de Selincourt, The Poetical Works of Wordsworth (Ox ford University Press
1961)
R. L. Bret and A. R. Jones, Lyrical Ballads (Methuen, 1968).
E.W. Parker and S. H. Burton. A Pageant of Longer Poems (Longmans, 1961).
W. Graham. The Prelude, Books I & II (Basil Blackville Oxford 1968).
Alun R. Jones and William Tydeman, Wordsworth Lyrical Ballads: A Case Book
(Macmillan Education, 1987).
Lionel Trilling, The Liberal Imagination (Oxford University Press, 1981).
J. R. Watson, William Wordsworth’s Vital Soul (Humanities Press, New Jersey, 1982).
Cleanth Brooks, The Well Wrought Urn (Methuen London, 1968).
Geoffrey Durant, Wordsworth And The Great System (Cambridge University Press,
1970).
P. H. Parry William Wordsworth : Selected Poems (Longman, York Press, 1982).
G. Wilson Knight, The Starlit Dome (Oxford University Press, 1971).
Richard J. Onorato, The Character of the Poet: Wordsworth (Princeton University Press,
1971).
Thomas McFarland, Romanticism and the Forms of Ruin (Princeton University Press,
1981).
Raymond Cowell, Critics on Wordsworth (Universal Book Stall, New Delhi, 1989).
Geoffrey Thurley, The Romantic Predicament (Macmillan, 1983).
J. R. Jackson. Poetry of the Romantic Period (Routledge Kegan Paul, 1980).

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11. Some Questions
1. These beauteous forms,
Through a long absence, have not been to me
As is a landscape to a blindman’s eye;
But oft, in lonely rooms and mid the din Of towns and cities,
I have owed to them, In hours of weariness, sensations sweet,
Felt in the blood and felt along the heart,
(a) Identify the passage.
(b) What does the poet mean by ‘sensations sweet’?
(c) What ‘beauteous forms’ is the poet referring to?
2. What is the theme of Wordsworth’s Immortality Ode and how is it developed?
3. . . . that serene and blessed mood,/ In which the affections gently lead us on,/-Until,
the breath of this corporeal frame,/ And even the motion of our human blood/
Almost suspended, we are laid asleep /In body, and become a living soul:
(a) Identity the passage and relate it to its context.
(b) Comment on the significance of the phrases : ‘serene and blessed mood’ and ‘a
living soul’.
4. The Immortality Ode records “A very individual kind of depression and a very
individual solution”. Discuss.
5. ...those obstinate questionings
Of sense and outward things,
Fallings from us, vanishings;
Blank misgivings of a creature
Moving about in worlds not realized,
High instincts before which our mortal Nature
Did tremble like a guilty thing surprised:
(a) Identify the passage and relate it to its context.
(b) Explain the last two lines.
6. “In the renewed presence of a remembered scene, Wordsworth comes to a full
understanding of his poetic—self.” Discuss this view of Tintern Abbey.
7. Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting.
The Soul that rises with us, our life’s Star
Hath had elsewhere its setting,
And cometh from afar:

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 Not in entire forgetfulness,
But trailing clouds of glory, do we come,
From God, who is our home.
i. Restate briefly the notion of pre-existence with the help of the passage.
ii. Is this compatible with Christian belief?
8. Write a note on the following topics:
(i) The French Revolution and Romantic Poetry.
(ii) Imagination and Romantics.
9. ... nor all
The dreary intercourse of daily life,
Shall e’er prevail against us, or disturb
Our cheerful faith, that all which we behold
is full of blessings.
(i) Identify the passage. What, according to the poet, is the dreary intercourse of
life?
(ii) Comment on the last two lines of the passage quoted above.
10. ‘The things which I have seen I now can see no more’, says Wordsworth in the
Immortality Ode. Critically examine what the poet has lost and what he has gained with
age.
11. But oft, in lonely rooms and ’mid the din
Of towns and cities, I have owed to them,
In hours of weariness, sensations sweet,
Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart;
And passing even into my purer mind,
With tranquil restoration.
(i) Identify the lines and relate these to their context.
(ii) What do the given lines say about poetic experience
12. Write a note on the following :
(i) The French Revolution and Romantic Poetry.
(ii) Romanticism.
(iii) The Ode in the Romantic Age.

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13. Discuss Tintern Abbey as a poem that concerns itself with the ‘still, sad music of
humanity”.
14. The Immortality Ode is ‘Wordsworth’s conscious farewell to his art, a dirge sung over
his departing powers.’ Discuss.
15. Nor less, I trust,
To them I may have owed another gift,
Of aspect more sublime; that blessed mood,
In which the burthen of the mystery,
In which the heavy and the weary weight
Of all this unintelligible world,
Is lightened :- that serene and blessed mood,
In which the affections gently lead us on,
Until, the breath of this corporeal frame
And even the motion of our human blood
Almost suspended, we are laid asleep
In body, and become a living soul:
While with an eye made quiet by the power
Of harmony, and the deep power of joy,
We see into the life of things.
(i) Analyze this passage and relate it to its context.
(ii) Elucidate briefly these phrases : “The burthen of the mystery” and “an eye made
quiet by the power of harmony”.
16. How does Wordsworth view his growth and development in the Immortality Ode? Give
a reasoned answer.
17. ...That neither evil tongues,
Rash judgement, nor the sneers of selfish men,
Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all,
The dreary intercourse of daily life,
Shall e’er prevail against as, or disturb
Our Cheerful faith, that all which we behold
is full of blessings.
(a) Analyze the lines and place them in their context.
(b) Does the poet place Dorothy and himself against the rest of mankind? If so, why?
What is that ‘cheerful faith’ which he believes (morally) belongs to them alone.
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18. But for those first affections
Those shadowy recollections,
which, be what they may,
Are yet the fountain light of all our, day
And yet a master light of all our seeing
(a) Analyze the lines and place them in the context.
(b) Elucidate briefly the phrases : ‘Those first affections’, ‘Shadowy recollections’,
fountain light,’ and ‘master light.’
19. Tintern Abbey is ‘a sensitive man’s intellectual escape into Nature’. Discuss.
20. Wordsworth’s escape into Nature in Tintern Abbey is short-lived. The last stanza of the
poem is “a fatigued attempt to convert his loss into a negative triumph”. Discuss.
21. Compare and Contrast Tintern Abbey with The Immortality Ode.
22. The Immortality Ode is a mature version of Tintern Abbey. Discuss

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112
 Paper IX – British Romantic Literature
Unit-2(b)

Kubla Khan
&
Dejection : An Ode
S.T. COLERIDGE

Contents
1. About the Poet
2. A Brief Note on the Characteristics of Romantic Poetry
3. Kubla Khan : The Poem
4. Kubla Khan: An Analysis
5. Dejection : An Ode: The Poem
6. Dejection : An Ode: An Analysis
7. Concepts of Imagination
8. Suggested Reading
9. Some Questions

Edited by: Prepared by:

Dr. Neeta Gupta P. S. Nindra

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114
1. About The Poet
Samuel Taylor Coleridge was born on the 21st of October, 1772, in the town of Ottrey,
Devonshire. His father was a simple-minded clergyman. The poet, the youngest of thirteen
children, displayed from his earliest years great fondness for reading, and entered the
Grammar school when six years of age. We have a full account of his early years, which truly
proves how in his case the child was father to the man. It is important to note, in the light of
his later tastes and of his writings, that the book which above all others fascinated and
impressed him was the Arabian Nights Entertainments. As he says “I took no pleasure in
boyish sports, but read incessantly. So I became a dreamer. Alas ! I had all the simplicity, all
the docility of the little child, but none of the child’s habits. I never thought as a child, never
had the language of a child”1.
When he was eight years old, according to his own account, he ran away from home
after a quarrel with his brother who had provoked him, and slept that night on the bank of a
stream, an adventure which he dated as the beginning of his continuous later ill-health.
In 1782, Coleridge’s father died, and a place was found for him at Christ’s Hospital, the
London charity school, where Charles Lamb was his junior. Lamb describes Coleridge as the
“Poor, friendless boy.”
At school he was an omnivorous reader: he was interested in metaphysics, in theology,
and especially in Neo-Platonism. During the last two years at school, he was interested in
poetry, especially the sonnets of Bowles, which, by their spontaneous and fresh simplicity,
and genuine love of nature, exercised a great influence upon him. His own verse written
during these years, though often above the average, requires no special comment.
In 1791, he entered Jesus College, Cambridge. His University career was passed in
stirring and stormy times. He firmly embraced democratic and communistic views, and had
deep sympathy with the French Revolution of 1789. In religion, as in politics, his views were
strongly radical. An interesting development took place at this time : owing to debt, and
disappointment in love, Coleridge disappeared in December 1793 and enlisted in the Light
Dragoons at Reading under the name of Silas Tomkyn Comberbache (Coleridge retained the
initials). In April 1794, he was discharged after his family and friends intervened on his
behalf, and he returned to Cambridge.
On a Vacation walking tour, he met Robert Southey, poet and ‘sturdy Republican’, at
Oxford in June. Soon a friendship was formed, and during the following three weeks or so
Coleridge outlined a plan to establish (in a remote part of America) a communistic settlement
which was called Pantisocracy. Twelve gentlemen were to sail with twelve ladies; two or
three hours’ work a day suffice for their support giving ample leisure for study and poetry.
But the project did not make any headway, and the scheme was slowly and silently dropped.
The only practical consequence of the American scheme was Coleridge’s marriage on
October 4, 1795. at Bristol to Sara, sister of Edith Fricker, whom Robert Southey was to
marry. The Coleridges settled in a cottage in Clevendon in Somerset. In September, 1796
their first child Hartley as born.
Coleridge had no means of supporting a home, beyond an offer of payment, for a verse
he might write, made by a publisher named Cottle. He tried several schemes for gaining a
livelihood : delivered lectures on various topics, literary and political, preached in ‘Unitarian
churches’2, published his first volume of poems, wrote for the press, and finally started The
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Watchman, a magazine devoted to politics and literature. But with the tenth number, the
publication of the magazine came to an end.
On the marriage front, Coleridge did not enjoy domestic harmony. In fact there was no
real sympathy and understanding between him and his wife. Thus domestic anxieties and
depression of spirits brought on attacks of neuralgia and it was probably at this time that he
began the use of opium as a relief, a habit which was to mar his best years, and indeed the
whole of his life. In fact, Coleridge suffered long spells of appalling ill-health, and his
addiction to opium only served to complicate the problems.
In 1797, began his famous friendship with William Wordsworth and his sister, Dorothy.
Coleridge moved to Nether Stowey in Somersetshire, and shortly afterwards the
Wordsworths settled in the neighbouring village in a mansion called Alfoxden. “Our
principal inducement,” writes Dorothy Wordsworth, “was Coleridge’s society”. Each had
seen, and admired, a little of the other’s work, but they had only recently become personally
acquainted. The friendship between the two poets stands as one of the most famous and most
fruitful in the annals of English literature. And we cannot forget Dorothy also. As Coleridge
says : “We were three people, but only one soul”. The stimulus of Wordsworth’s
companionship helped to mature his poetic genius, and the sympathetic, intelligence of
Dorothy Wordsworth also had the happiest effect upon Coleridge’s imagination. Free for a
time from domestic anxiety, and happy in the new company, Coleridge rose to the zenith of
his poetical career. Their walks together on the Quantock hills resulted in the epoch-making
volume of poems called The Lyrical Ballads. (1798). The Ancient Mariner formed part of the
Ballads. Indeed during, the short time-from June, 1797 to September, 1798 — that this close
friendship lasted, Coleridge wrote almost all his best poetry,—The Ancient Mariner. The
Nightingale, the first part of Christabel, The Dark Ladle, the Ode to France, Fears in
Solitude. Frost at Midnight, Kubla Khan, and so on.
This brief and fruitful period also marks the completion of Coleridge’s poetical career.
Two poems alone of later date can claim to rank with those just mentioned; the second part of
Christabel (1800) and the melancholy Ode on Dejection (1802). Walter Pater in his
Appreciations observes. “What shapes itself for criticism in Coleridge’s poetic life is not. as
with most true poets, the gradual development of a poetic gift, determined, enriched, retarded,
by the actual circumstances of the poet’s life, but the sudden blossoming, through one short
season, of such a gift, already perfect in its kind, which thereafter deteriorates as suddenly
with something like premature old age. “Henceforward Coleridge is the critic and the
Philosopher, rarely the poet. The tyranny of opium had spread its dark shadow over his life,
and we find an excellent account of his state of mind at this time in all its bitter sadness in the
pathetic Dejection Ode, from which a few lines may be quoted here :
There was a time when though my path was rough,
This joy within me dallied with distress,
And all misfortunes were but as the stuff
Whence Fancy made me dreams of happiness.
...............................................................
...............................................................

But now afflictions bow me down to earth;

Nor care I that they rob me of my mirth ;
But O, each visitation
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 Suspends What Nature gave me at my birth,
My shaping spirit of imagination”.
Dejection Ode is indeed his pathetic farewell to poetry, as sincere as it is sad.
After the publications of Lyrical Ballads, Coleridge started for a tour through Germany
with Wordsworth and Dorothy, to learn the language and study contemporary philosophy and
science. German philosophy and literature peculiarly fascinated Coleridge.
On his return to England in 1800, Coleridge aimlessly moved from place to place. When
Wordsworth married and settled at Grasmere in the Lake district, Coleridge and his family
followed in July 1800, where they, in turn, were followed by the Southeys who shared their
house, Greta Hall near Keswick.
Relations with his wife grew worse and worse, and Coleridge plunged into depths of
misery. He fell in love with Wordsworth’s sister-in-law, Sarah Hutchinson, a woman of deep
sympathy and understanding. He even toyed with the idea of taking a separation from his
wife.
Failing health induced him to try the effect of warmer climates. So he left for Malta in
June 1804, where he was very well received by the English Colony. He was appointed there
as the temporary secretary to the governor Sir Alexander.. From this time onwards, the
Southeys took more or less full responsibility for maintaining Coleridge’s family. But there
was no improvement in his health. Cut off from friends and congenial intellectual
environment, he found life unbearable there, and returned to England after two years.
He wandered from place to place, ill and self-reproachful, and finally went to live with
the Wordsworths for two years and produced another periodical, “The Friend”, his second
attempt at periodical editing, of which twenty-seven numbers appeared. Sara Hutchinson,
who had copied the manuscripts for the printer, left to live with a brother in Wales. Coleridge
missed her immensely, his life and work falling to pieces. He left for London, and soon got
involved in a miserable quarrel with Wordsworth which was never completely patched up.
Still, however, his wonderful powers continued to find new admirers, and his lectures on
Shakespeare and Milton in London were “a sort of rage.” Since these lectures were delivered
extemporaneously, only fragmentary records exist of them.
Separation from his wife took place at this time, and this was followed by estrangement
from many-old friends too. Continued ill-health at last forced him to place himself in the
hands of a sympathetic doctor from Highgate, in the year 1816. He lived in the doctor’s house
until his death, eighteen years later, and under his care he gradually overcame the craving for
opium, and regained some measure of restored health. He renewed old friendships, formed
new ones and showed occasional flashes of genius. During this period he produced the Lay
Sermons, Biographia Literaria, with its invaluable analysis of the principles and language of
poetry, The Aids to Reflection, and the Notes on Shakespeare.
Coleridge had extraordinary powers of conversation, and it was as a talker....a marvelous
talker that he is noted during the last ten years of his life. His reputation and his attractive
personality brought to Highgate some of the finest minds of the day. In fact he became the
sage of Highgate, and the house a place of pilgrimage for writers and thinkers.
He died on 25 July, 1834 and was buried in Highgate churchyard. A few months
previously he had composed his own epitaph :
Stop, Christian passer—by ! -stop, child of God.
And read with gentle breast. Beneath this sod
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 A Poet lies, or that which once seemed he,
O, lift one thought in Prayer for S.T.C, :
That he who many a year with toil of breath
Found death in life, may here find life a death !
Mercy for praise-to be forgiven for fame
He asked, and hoped, through Christ. Do thou the same !
Coleridge planned much, but achieved little. Carlyle, a well-known critic, wrote : “His
cardinal sin is that he wants will. He has no resolution.” Coleridge was incapable of sustained
effort. On this aspect, let us note the opinion of two or three famous critics. Oliver Elton
observes in his A Survey of English Literature : ‘”The history of his life is largely one of
designs unfulfilled—mere broken arcs—and of surmises thrown out rather than worked out.
His life is a record of dissipated energies, wasted manhood unfulfilled promises and pre-
mature decay.”
Hudson points out in An Outline History of English Literature : “A man of gigantic
genius, he was absolutely wanting in will power, and his slavery to opium, which lasted many
years, helped still further to paralyze his energies. So the divinely-gifted Coleridge shambled
through life, dreaming great dreams and projecting great books, but the dreams were never
realized and the books were never written. All his work is fragmentary; yet his was so
original and seminal a mind that in theology, philosophy and literary criticism (to which he
gave much time in later years) he exercised an influence out of all proportion to the bulk and
apparent importance of his writings.
What is best in Coleridge’s poetry is very small in amount, but that little is of rare
excellence. His personal poems like Dejection : an ode, and Work without Hope, have
pathetic interest in connection with the tragedy of ineffectiveness which made up so much of
his life. But his historical importance is due mainly to such poems as The Ancient Mariner
and Christabel which represent the triumph of romanticism as fully as Wordsworth’s
narrative poems represent the triumph of naturalism.........Coleridge took the supernatural as
his particular province, and far beyond any writer before him he treated the supernatural in a
purely poetic way. It will be remembered that Wordsworth saved naturalism from the hard
literature to which it was tending by touching fact with imagination. Coleridge saved
supernaturalism from the coarse sensationalism then in vogue by linking it with
psychological truth”.
Another notable critic, 1. A. Richards, is also worth quoting : “He is the Great
Disappointment’; the man who might have but didn’t; the waster of unparalleled talents; ‘the
type specimen of self-frustrating genius ; the procrastinator, the alibi fabricator and the idler.”

1. Supplement to “Biog. Lt.”

2. Unitarian : member of a Christian church which rejects the doctrine of the Trinity and
believes that God is one person.

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2. A Brief Note on the Characteristics
of Romantic Poetry
Before coming specifically to romantic poetry we will first give a very brief survey of
English Poetry. Of course you must supplement this account with a reading from any good
History of English Literature.
Modern English Poetry is about six hundred years old. It can be conveniently discussed
under the following headings.
1. Age of Chaucer.
2. The Elizabethan Age.
3. The Puritan Period.
4. Restoration Period.
5. The Classical Period.
6. The Romantic Revival.
7. The Victorian Age.
Now follows a brief estimate of all these periods.
2.1 Age of Chaucer (1340-1400) :
Geoffrey Chaucer (1340-1400) has rightly been called the father of modern English poetry.
He was a many-sided genius. He adopted an eleven syllable line as his favourite verse-form
from the Italian poet Boccaccio.
Chaucer’s most important and endearing work is Canterbury Tales. This poem is the finest
narrative in English literature, abounding as it does in story-interest, humour and 119
haracterization.
The Age of Chaucer is notable for the development of the popular ballad, metrical
romance, dream allegories and satire.
2.2 The Elizabethan Age :
Broadly speaking the period (1580-1620) may be regarded as the Elizabethan Age. It is
one of the greatest periods in English literary history. Its two main characteristics were :
(i) Growth of Nationalism.
(ii) The influence of Renaissance learning.
Both these tendencies are reflected in contemporary literature. Amongst the foreign
influences. Italian, French and Spanish were more pronounced.
In poetry, new verse forms like the “sonnet” and “blank verse” were introduced and
experimented with. Songs, pastoral poems, and sonnets were extremely popular. Spenser was
the greatest Elizabethan poet, and his masterpiece, The Faery Queen was written during
1589-96. The sonnets of Spenser, Sidney and Shakespeare were quite popular. The
Elizabethan Age was primarily the age of drama. Shakespeare wrote all of his famous dramas
between 1591 and 1611.
The general trend of Elizabethan literature was “Romantic”. Display of imagery and
emotion were two marked traits of poetic diction.

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2.3 The Puritan Period :
This period covers the years (1625-1660). This is also known as the Age of Milton as he
was the most prominent poet of this period. This age was characterised by a reaction against
earlier Elizabethan extravagance and imaginative enthusiasm. The poetic pendulum swung
towards sober intellectuality and controlled emotion. Milton perfected blank verse as an
instrument of poetic expression.
This period was one of gradual transition from the vigour, gaiety and imaginative freedom of
the Elizabethan to that of artificial cheer, philosophic melancholy, and Puritan sobriety.
2.4 Restoration Period:
Also known as the Age of Dryden, it extends over the years 1660-1700. John Dryden
was the greatest poet of this age. Poetry was marked by intellectual vigour, wit and polish,
and dominated by classical traits—balance, exactness and elegance. It lacked emotion and
high imagination: and it was largely didactic (moralistic) or satirical in intention. The ode
was also a favourite form. Blank verse was replaced by the heroic couplet.
2.5 The Classical Period (1700-1750) :
It is also known as the Age of Pope or the Augustan Age. Alexander Pope was the
greatest poet of this period. Classicism dominated English Poetry almost throughout the
greater part of the eighteenth century. Main characteristics of classicism were as follows :
(a) Reason and common sense were preferred to ‘emotion and imagination’.
(b) Nature or supernaturalism were seldom or never treated in poetry.
(c) Most of the time it was the poetry of the town rather than of the country side.
(d) Poetry was chiefly written in Heroic couplet.
(e) Poetry was largely satirical or didactic in intention.
(f) Diction and imagery were conventional.
(g) Poetry abided by rules which were practiced by the Age of Dryden and the
contemporary French poets.
(h) Metrical regularity was strictly adhered to.
(i) Epigrammatic quality and didactic spirit were widely cultivated by poets.
(j) Elizabethan qualities of rhetoric, eloquence, conceit and bombast were discarded. In
their place ‘classical’ qualities of balance, exactness and polish were encouraged.
Pope’s contribution to the development of classicism in England was the largest. He
perfected the heroic couplet. He also laid down rules for writing poetry by publishing his
famous “Essay on criticism”. He taught his contemporaries to “Follow Nature”— but in a
different sense. What he meant was an exact reproduction!! of everyday life and manners, as
opposed to anything wild or extravagant. It was not to describe flowers and the trees and the
changes of season,—it was to copy the men and manners of polite society. Pope was the
author of numerous well-known epigrams, (short, pithy saying).
2.6 Romantic Revival and Romantic Revolt (1798-1832):
In English this period was ushered in by Wordsworth and Coleridge in the Lyrical
Ballads of 1798, as a protest and revolt against the so-called classicism of the previous
century. The movement started as a conscious reaction against the Neo-classical poetry of the

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18th Century. In this sense, the movement was known as the Romantic Revolt. But the
movement is also known as the Romantic Revival, in the sense that the romantic qualities,
which were suppressed by the Age of Pope, were revived during this period. Interest in
Spenser, Shakespeare and Milton was revived. Since the spirit of the Romantic poetry was
akin to that of the Elizabethan age, the Elizabethan literary forms and subjects were revived
again—the sonnet, the lyric, the pastoral, the blank verse, the Spenserian stanza, the ballad,
and so on. The same fullness of imagination, richness of language, vastness of conception,
lyricism and picturesqueness which pervaded the great Elizabethan works are to be found in
Romantic Poetry. In Coleridge and Byron, Shelley and Keats was revived that
passionateness, restlessness and curiosity, that sense of wonder and mystery, which marked
the age of Elizabeth.
We can sum up the main characteristics of the Romantic poetry as follows :
(i) Emotion and Imagination were once again preferred to reason and common sense.
(ii) ‘Individualism’ as opposed to obedience to ‘Authority’ was revived. The poet was
not bound to follow “Ancients” or “fixed rules”. He was free to write as he pleased.
(iii)Interest in Nature and Supernatural was revived.
(iv) Interest in the common man—the peasant, the labourer, the shepherd—was revived,
(v) Interest in the Past, the Middle Ages, was a marked feature of Romantic poetry,
(vi) Interest in Greek art, myth and literature was another characteristic feature.
The Romantic Revival was the “second great creative period” in English Poetry—the
first being the Elizabethan Age. Great poets flourished during this period, who enriched the
romantic tradition by making significant contributions. Thus Wordsworth revived interest in
Nature by writing such poems as Tintern Abbey. He struck a democratic note by publishing
his short lyric. The Solitary Reaper. Coleridge revived the elements of wonder and mystery
by writing The Ancient Mariner, Kubla Khan and Christabel. Shelley enriched lyricism by
writing such immortal lyrics as Ode to the West Wind, The Cloud, etc. Keats’s contribution
was no less outstanding. He revived interest in the Middle Ages in his, The Eve of St. Agnes
and La Belle Dame Sans Merci. Besides, he was a great Hellenist (a lover of Greek art and
literature), as is evident from his Ode on the Grecian Urn. Byron popularized the qualities of
romantic sadness by creating the Byronic Hero. All these great poets were lovers of nature,
although they appreciated it in their own individualistic manners.
2.7 The Victorian Age (1832-1870)
Romantic rather than classical spirit prevailed during this period. It was, however,
modified to reflect current attitudes in science, religion, politics and philosophy.
The two great poets of this period were Tennyson and Browning. Poetry of this period
was romantic in so far as :
(i) It was dominated by imaginative and emotional elements,
(ii) It experimented with new verse forms.
(iii)It was dedicated to the worship of beauty.
The Victorian Poetry differed from the poetry of the Romantic Revival in three
important aspects :
(i) It was more intellectual in tone,
(ii) It treated serious problems of society,
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 (iii)It evinced higher degree of technical perfection.
The lyric remained a favourite form during this period. Robert Browning developed a
new type of lyric known as the ‘dramatic monologue’.
You must read at least one good History of English Literature. You may consult “A
History of English Literature” by A. Compton-Rickett, or The Cambridge History of English
Literature Vol. XI. You may also consult, if you can get, A Critical History of English
Literature by David Daiches.
Coleridge’s name, in the history of English poetry, is always associated with those of
Wordsworth. Keats, Shelley, and Byron; for all these poets were subject to the same
influences, and present such characteristics as link them together into a group. The tendencies
that they show and the qualities which they impart to their poetry have won for them the
name of Romantics, and the movement which they represented has come to be known in
English literature as the Romantic Movement. Coleridge’s poetry reveals that he had a
marvelous power of imagination. This imagination helped him to dream great dreams and see
great visions. He possessed also the power of translating into vivid symbols for the eye and
the ear the beauty which he saw in his dreams and visions. His poetry also reveals the
remarkable gift which he had for presenting romantic pictures and images of rare beauty. His
poetry indeed is always full of Romantic elements, and these arise from his study of the
medieval part and from his bringing into his poems mystic and supernatural elements. Indeed,
the supernatural, the marvelous, the Romantic, these seemed to Coleridge, fit subjects for a
poet, not so much on their own account, as for the sense of an abiding mystery in things
which they awaken in contemplative minds. The Rime, Kubla Khan and Christabel are the
greatest poetic achievements, where the poet with his supreme powers of poetic vision,
feeling and expression, has captured for man’s enjoyment the subtlest and the most wonderful
fancies”.

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3. Kubla Khan : The Poem
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.
So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round:
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.
But oh! That deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!
A savage place! As holy and enchanted
As e’er beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon-lover!
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced:
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail.
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher’s flail:
And ’mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean:
And ‘mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war!
The shadow of the dome of pleasure
Floated midway on the waves;
Where was heard the mingled measure
From the fountain and the caves.
It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny measure—dome with caves of rice!

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A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw:
It was an Abyssinian maid,
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within me
Her symphony and song.
To such a deep delight ’twould win me.
That with music loud and long,
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome! Those caves of ice!
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry. Beware ! Beware !
His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread.
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.

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4. Kubla Khan: An Analysis
Kubla Khan presents certain serious problems for the readers as well as critics. On the
first reading, especially without any background knowledge, everyone is bound to ask the
question: what is it all about? Is there any connection between the first and the second part?
Is it merely a fragment?
These questions are not easy to answer. But it definitely stirs up an old argument:
Should we enjoy the poem as it is —as a self-contained independent unit ? Or should we seek
background knowledge— poet’s life, his other interests and preoccupations, and so on.
Votaries of the former belief, no doubt, have some point. But Kubla Khan presumably
supports the latter view—that we do need some background knowledge to understand and
appreciate this poem.
This poem, though written probably in 1797-98, was published for the first time in 1816.
Along with a Preface in which Coleridge calls it a fragment and tells us about his source and
method of composition, which we quote in full :
In the summer of the year 1797, the Author, then in ill health, had retired to a lonely
farm-house between Porlock and Lynton, on the Exmoor confines of Somerset and
Devonshire. In consequence of a slight indisposition, an anodyne had been prescribed,
from the effects of which he fell asleep in his chair at the moment that he was reading
the following sentence, or words of the same substance, in Purchas’s Pilgrimage : ‘Here
the Khan Kubla commanded a palace to be built, and a stately garden thereunto. And
thus ten miles of fertile ground were enclosed with a wall’. The Author continued for
about three hours in a profound sleep, at least of the external senses, during which time
he has the most vivid confidence, that he could not have composed less than from two to
three hundred lines; if that indeed can be called composition in which all the images rose
up before him as things, with a parallel production of the correspondent expressions,
without any sensation or consciousness of effort. On awakening he appeared to himself
to have a distinct recollection of the whole, and taking his pen ink, and paper, instantly
and eagerly wrote down the lines that are here preserved. At this moment he was
unfortunately called out by a person on business from Porlock, and detained by him
above an hour, and on his return to his room, found, to his no small surprise and
mortification, that though he still retained some vague and dim recollection of the
general purport of the vision, yet, with the exception of some eight or ten scattered lines
and images, all the rest had passed away like the images on the surface of a stream into
which a stone has been cast, but, alas without the after restoration of the latter.”
Modern critics do not give much credit to the Preface that Coleridge wrote much after
the composition of the poem. They hold the Preface responsible for much of the confusion
and mystery that the poem has given rise to over the years.
What is the position of the modern criticism? For one, it does not consider the poem as a
‘fragment’, as claimed by Coleridge. For another, it detects an essential unity between the
two parts (Lines 1-35, and Lines 36-54). Further, regarding its theme, there is also a measure
of consensus that the poem is about “the act of poetic creation’’ (Humphry House); Kubla
Khan is a poem about poetry (George Watson). In fact Watson claims it with an
assertiveness: “What is Kubla Khan about ? This is. Or ought to be, an established fact of
criticism : Kubla Khan is a poem about poetry. It is probably the most original poem about

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poetry in English”. For Graham Hough (The Romantic Poets), what underlies the poem is the
theme of Poetic inspiration.
Earlier critics like Livingstone Lowes (The Road to Xanadu), tracing out the references
that Coleridge gathered from his immensely wide reading of these months, comes to the
conclusion that the poem is meaningless. He treats the relation between the parts as
‘inconsequential’. He also talks of the ‘’vivid incoherence’ of the second part. All this is
indeed the result of having been told beforehand that the poem was a dream, or the result of a
dream. And Humphry House’s pertinent questions acquire an added force when he asks:
”If Coleridge had never published his Preface, who would have thought of Kubla Khan
as a fragment? Who would have guessed it as a dream? Who, without the confession, would
have supposed that “in consequence of a slight indisposition, an anodyne had been
prescribed”?
Be that as it may. The fact remains that the Preface had stirred up a great deal of critical
activity. What is the best course open for us then? Obviously, to steer clear of some of the
confusing, difficult and in-depth studies of the poem, and adhere to somewhat simpler and
easily accepted approaches.
We proceed with the premise, then, that Kubla Khan is not a fragment; it is a complete
whole, with the two parts having a basic unity. What is this basic unity ? It is this point which
remains to be discussed.
We know one thing for certain that this poem contains echoes and reminiscences of a
number of other books which were sub-consciously influencing his thoughts and fancies. The
elements of the remote, of the distant in time and space, of luxury and extravagance, of art
and music and dance, of incredible sweetness and glamour are all suggested at once.
All these are facts, established facts, but can lead us nowhere in so far as the basic
question is concerned: what is the poem about ? Medical evidence ‘discounts the notion that
opium produces either dreams in sleep or waking hallucinations’. Of course, this poem may
have been written in great speed, but it does not follow that it was written ‘in waking’ up
after dreaming a dream. It seems to have been written deliberately, consciously, with a lot of
preparation (reading etc.) and a definite critical theory about poetry.
Let us take the poem as it is and see what it offers. The fifty-four lines of the poem
divide clearly at line 36. The first section, often in coldly literal detail, describes the Khan’s
‘rare device’. Purchas’s Pilgrimage (1613) tells hardly more than that the Khan built a
movable palace in a beautifully enclosed park. Coleridge is much more specific, and
concentrates many of Purchas’s details, and some others, into a closely consistent picture.
But, to begin with the beginning: what do we find in the first thirty-five lines ?
Somebody (Kubla Khan, in fact) did something specific—decreed the erection of a pleasure
dome; its shadow ‘Floated midway on the waves’”; and it was a “miracle of rare device”
since, though it was “sunny” it contained “caves of ice”. But right in the beginning, the
importance of river Alph is emphasized: the pleasure-dome is ordered to be built where the
river Alph ran, and it is ‘sacred’.
The “so” of line 6 conveys the impression that the location was chosen deliberately by
the Khan: because the sacred river ran here, so he ordered the pleasure-dome to be built here.
Then follows a detailed description of the setting: the size of the tract of fertile ground
that Kubla had walled as an immense garden, with walls and towers, gardens and rills;

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flowers borne by the plants and trees were fragrant like incense; there were sunny spots of
green lawn amidst thick forests—a place of paradisal happiness.
But most of all, the description deals with the sacred river with special reference to the
chasm from which the river issued, the fountain hurling up the huge fragments, and the
disappearance of the river into the “caverns measureless to man”.
You will notice that the impression that we get is that the setting is more important than the
pleasure dome itself.
Besides, what sort of atmosphere is sought to be evoked through these images? (12-30).
Well, an atmosphere of fear, enchantment, violent and uncontrollable energy, oblivion and
death, and forebodings of strife and struggle.
Thus, this work of art. So to speak, is not set down just anywhere in nature but has been
very carefully accommodated to its natural setting. It crowns nature.
The place indeed is special: it is dominated by the sacred river; it is carefully walled off and
set apart, a kind of earthly paradise, walled off like Milton’s paradise.
But we must pay attention to the opening of line 12, which presents a curious
grammatical problem. What is the force of “But” ? in the opening of the line ? Does it mean:
but how unlike the rest of the garden was the chasm? Or: In what sharp contrast to the
enfolded sunny spots of greenery was that awesome chasm? The landscape is cleft by the
chasm and it makes the place “savage”.
At any rate, the “But oh” signals a shift in mood, from sunlight to shadow, or from
sunlight to moonlight.
The place is savage, holy and enchanted, and the appropriateness of the spot as one in
which a woman might wail for her demon lover connects the place with the darker aspects of
the supernatural. The more sunlit and paradisiacal aspects of its sacred character have been
emphasized in the first eleven lines. The description of the chasm completes the picture of a
place which we should today call numinous. (Pertaining to a divinity ; suffused with feeling
of a divinity.)
It is sacred in all the senses of that word—-not merely the divine but including the
demonic—-in short, the numinous as primitive man apprehends it.
The river Alph participates in this quality. If it waters the blossoming garden of the
incense-bearing trees and sparkles in the sun, it is also violent and darkly mysterious. The
river is associated with both past and future. In its tempestuous descent Kubla Khan can hear
the voices of the past (”ancestral voice”) predicting the future (”prophesying war”). The river
Alph has other significance too. (See Study Notes).
The pleasure dome as a thing of art, then, is imposed upon a very special portion of
nature. It is located very precisely in the enclosed tract. Its shadow is reflected in the waves
of the river at a point midway between the bursting forth of the river and its disappearance—
at a point, at least, where the sound of the source fountain and of the waterfall into the abyss
can both be heard as a “mingled measure”.
The dome is a work of art imposed upon a particular nature; it crowns and dominates
that nature; but it also incorporates some of the polarities’ of nature. The sunny dome imitates
the heavens, but it imitates the earth as well with its ice caves. Its holding together in one
artifact such extremes is referred to as miraculous:
“It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny pleasure – dome with caves of ice.”

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 Indeed, harmony and reconciliation are the essential features of the dome. Or should we
say reconciliation of opposites, which makes it a ‘miracle of rare device”.
But the walled garden, reminding one of an earthly Paradise, contains knowledge of the
threat of its own possible destruction. Kubla Khan’s fortune is precarious. According to the
prophecy, he faces war. The earthly paradise is not held as a permanent gift, it is subject to
change, subject to destruction. In other words, the ideal life is always open to forces of evil.
Now we come to the real problem-the last eighteen lines of the poem. Here is the most
characteristic dream-feature of the poem-the sudden switch from Kubla and the Xanadu
landscape.
As we stated earlier, many scholars who regard this poem as a fragment, do not see any
logical connection between the first thirty-six and the last eighteen lines. But we can argue
that the last eighteen lines actually complete the poem, and that the break between the two
parts is a ‘meaningful’ break.
No doubt, with the second part, we come to a new topic, and the poet now speaks in his
own person and has a vision of an Abyssinian maid singing of Mount Abora. If the first
section of the poem might have been read from a book or presented in a dream or sketched in
reverie, suddenly we now have a person speaking. “I once saw a damsel with a dulcimer in a
vision.”
The damsel is from a far-away land, playing a music of unutterable melody and
sweetness. And now comes the crucial line “Could I revive within me.” As Humphry House
points out, this line can be interpreted in two ways. If a strong emphasis (and therefore
necessarily also a strong metrical stress) is put upon “could”, the word can be taken to imply
“If only I could, but I can’t,” and the whole poem can be made to appear to be about the
failure and frustration of the creative power. But if the emphasis on “could” is slight, then the
condition is an “open” condition, like “Could You make it Wednesday instead of Thursday, it
would be easier for me”, then it would imply that there is every possibility of creative
achievement.
The second interpretation, of course, seems to be more appropriate because, as House
says: “not only is it biographically relevant to point out that in 1797-98 Coleridge, so far from
bemoaning the loss of creative power, was only just discovering its strength; but also the
whole rhythmic character of the paragraph requires this view”.
Coming back to our discussion of the poem, we observe that the “I” of this poem will
not, of course, build the dome as Kubla did, He will build it with music. But he sets a
condition: if he could revive in himself the music of the maid in the vision, it would so stir
him to joy, that he would become truly creative and could himself produce a musical
recreation of the Khan’s pleasure dome. Or, we can say, he will build that dome in words, in
poetry. But, if the speaker could indeed recover the vision and build the dome for us, he
would pass beyond the bounds of poetry as we know it and become himself a numinous
thing-a creature to be held in awe and dread as one who had indeed been in paradise and
tasted its milk and honey-dew. Poetry reaches beyond itself and aspires to vision so intense,
that the poet becomes seer and prophet, the teller of truth. In proportion as the poet succeeds,
he becomes the man set apart from his fellows, to be viewed, perhaps, with superstitious
dread.
Notice that in the line “I would build that dome in air”, the speaker seems to be
challenging comparison with the Khan. Of course, the Khan is an oriental despot-all

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powerful—who has merely to decree and Lo! There is this pleasure—dome. But the poet
seems to say something to this effect: ‘I will build what Kubla built’. But his mode of
building sets him at the other extreme from the great Khan. He becomes not emperor or ruler,
(in order to bring into existence a miracle of rare device’, a person has to be no less than an
all-powerful ruler), but a poet who needs nothing but divine inspiration; he needs to be in a
state of poetic frenzy. He becomes a man cut off from his fellows by a magic circle and of
whom all cry, “Beware, beware”. If the shudder of awe and the warning whispered by those
listening to his song are a compliment and a testimony to his power, they also mark his exile
and his isolation. In other words, to recover the joy excited by the revived visionary music
would involve its penalties as well as its triumph.
By now, perhaps, the relationship between the two parts is somewhat clear to you. It is
just because the first part presents the dome and the river with all its setting so completely,
beautifully and finally, that we accept the authenticity of the creative impulse in the second
part and find in the last word “Paradise” a fact, not a forlorn hope. “Kubla Khan”, observes
Humphry House, ‘is a triumphant positive statement of the potentialities of poetry. How great
those potentialities are is revealed partly in the description of its effects at the ending of the
second part and partly in the very substance and content of the first.”
To reinforce the argument that Kubla Khan is a poem about poetry, let us quote George
Watson here (Coleridge the Poet):” Anyone who objects that there is not a word about poetry
in it should be sent at once to the conclusion and asked, even if he has never read any Plato,
what in English poetry this is like:
“Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise”.
There are dozens of parallels in Renaissance English to this account of poetic
inspiration, all based—though rarely at first hand—on Plato’s view of poetic madness in the
Ion or the Phaedrus— The ‘flashing eyes’ and ‘floating hair’ of Coleridge’s poem belong to a
poet in the fury of creation. Verbal resemblances to the text of Plato itself confirm that the
last paragraph of the poem is a prolonged Platonic allusion. Socrates, in the Ion compares
lyric poets to ‘Bacchic maidens who draw milk and honey from the rivers when under the
influence of Dionysus’ and adds that poets ‘gather their strains from honied fountains out of
the gardens and dells of the Muses. ..Ion himself, describing the effects of poetic recitation,
confesses that when I speak of horrors, my hair stands on end...The very phrase ‘holy dread’
is Platonic (Laws 67 ID). That Kubla Khan is in some sense a comment on Plato’s theory of
poetry Is not really in doubt. (Note : Students are familiar with Plato, It may be worth-
mentioning here that his dialogues fall into three groups : the first group consisting of the
Euthyphro and the Crito, the second and the most famous consisting of the Phaedo, the
Symposium, and the Republic, and the third group consisting of Timaeus and the Laws).
4.1 Study Notes
Xanadu : province of Tartary; the name of a town said to be not far from Pekin, the
ancient capital of the Chinese Empire and the summer capital of the emperors. Its Chinese
form is Shangtu. Kubla Khan : (1216-1294), was the founder of the Mongol Dynasty in
China, and one of its greatest rulers. He conquered China in 1267, and thus overthrew the
Ling dynasty, which had ruled for 319 years. The Chinese capital of Peking was built by him;

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also grandson of Genghis Khan, the notorious world conqueror, who made an inroad into
India also. Kubla lived in great style and grandeur. Marco Polo spent seventeen years at his
court.
These two names —Xanadu, Kubla Khan — sound the note of remoteness and romance
arising from unfamiliar objects and names.
Pleasure-dome : a palace for pleasure or holiday enjoyment
dome : rounded top of a building. Here dome stands for a grand, magnificent structure
with all the usual architectural features.
Decree : order to be built.
Alph: a legendary river. Rivers and springs are commonly associated with poetry in
classical and Renaissance poetry, “The very name ‘Alph’ offers an easy clue in its
resemblance to the Alpheus of Milton’s Lycidas, where it is associated with the Sicilian
Muse of pastoral poetry. And the river of poetry was a preoccupation of some
Romantics too… The sacred river is the most traditional element in a poem otherwise
evasive in its sophistication” (Watson).
Why the river was sacred has not been made clear. This idea is particularly Hindu or
Eastern, for only in the East do people treat rivers as holy. For example, the Ganges is a
sacred river in India.
Caverns : Caves, underground gorges. One of the widespread beliefs about rivers is that
they run underground for some distance.
Measureless to man : the depth of which cannot be ascertained by man.
L.5. Sunless Sea : not exposed to the rays of the sun. Some dark, subterranean lake. This
is another detail which is hard to imagine but which makes for the
picturesqueness of the description.
L.6. twice five mile: an archaic form of saying ten miles.
L.7. girdled: encircled.
L.8. sinuous rills : streams winding in and out like serpents; tortuous rivulets.
L.9. incense-bearing tree: Trees laden with fragrant blossoms. (A sensuous phrase)
This is an echo of Shakespeare’s description of Arabian trees yielding gums which
are fragrant like incense.
L.11 sunny spots : ground exposed to the warm rays of the sun.
L.12. But oh ! etc. : Suddenly, the poet rivets his attention on a different scene which he
views with awe and wonder, as shown by the exclamation.
Romantic chasm: a narrow ravine, gorge or deep hollow is called romantic in the
sense of its being mysterious and fearful to look into.
L.13. athwart: across
Cedarn cover: through a wood of cedar trees; the cedar is an evergreen tree,
L.14. Savage place: the place was strange, primitive and fearful. Why fearful? Because it
held unknown terrors of magic and witchcraft. The words holy and enchanted
reinforce an atmosphere of vague fears and magic associations.
L.I5. a waning moon : The waxing and waning moons are ascribed different powers and
virtues in magic and witchcraft.

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L.16. demon-lover: ghastly lover; those who claim that the poem achieves its effect
mainly by “far-reaching suggestiveness” cite particularly lines 12-16 as an
example. Other lines being 29-30. Furthermore, the proper names used are also
highly emotive and suggestive: Xanandu, Kubla Khan, Alph, Abyssinian and
Mount Abora, even Paradise. These names undoubtedly add to the total effect of
the poem.
About demon-lover: it is important to point out that this is a reference to Eastern
legends where a woman, after falling in love, discovers that her lover is a demon
(or a supernatural spirit), and thereafter seeks for him in places such as this chasm.
L.17. seething: coming up with a hissing or bubbling noise; bursting forth.
L.18. The whole line stands for one word: ‘earthquake’, when the earth seems to pant and
feel suffocated and bursts out in cracks and other fearful noises.
L.I 9. Momently : every moment, always; this is a peculiar use of the word. Was forced :
gushed forcefully.
L.20. half-intermitted burst: the bursting of the current being but now and then.
L.21. vaulted: made a circular motion or somersault; in other words, huge fragments
leapt up, and then fell down in a semi-circular movement.
Rebounding hail: like hailstones leaping up after striking the earth; a picturesque
simile and the result of close observation: as hail falls and is shattered, it flies in
fragments. So did the objects thrown up by the current inside the cavern.
L.22. again an apt simile from day to day life; the flying pieces of rock were like the
grains flying up when struck with a flail by a farmer.
Thresher, person who threshes grain that is, one who separates grain from chaff
with an instrument known as flail.
L.23. at once and ever: continuously; the water intermittently threw up pieces of rock.
L.24. If: the fountain.
L.25. meandering: winding with a mazy motion: the river Alph followed a tortuous,
bewildering course. Note the musical effect of this line; it is onomatopoeic—the
sound echoes the sense; alliteration leads to the musical effect.
L.28. sank in tumult: flowed tumultuously, noisily, only to become silent afterwards.
Lifeless ocean: This can mean that the sea was calm, with no waves in it. Or,
perhaps there were no living creatures in it.
L.29. Ancestral voices …war: highly suggestive and elusive line; much is left to our
imagination. The impending war can only mean that Kubla’s earthly paradise is
under threat of destruction. It is claimed by some critics that the line, like others in
the poem is of value for its sonority and suggestiveness rather than for its
“meaning.”
L.31. dome of pleasure: the dome is a characteristic feature of Islamic architecture, and is
appropriate to the Khan referred to as the emperor of China in the poem.
L.32. since the pleasure-dome stood on the banks of river Alph, the shadow of that
magnificent luxury-palace fell in the middle of the river.
L.33. mingled measure: mingled sounds of the gushing waters of the fountain and the
swift current of the river Alph flowing through deep hollows.
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 L.35. It was the work of cunning artists and designers. Rare and marvellous human skill
had gone into its construction; “it was most wonderfully planned”; the rarity
consisted partly in the contrast between the sunny dome and the caves of ice. Line
36: A sunny…ice: Note the contrast between the sun at one end and ice at the other.
The contradiction promotes wonder instead of incredulity.
L.35-36. On these lines, Humphry House comments as follows:
The “Caves of Ice” need special attention. Some discussions of the poem seem to
imply that they belong with the “caverns measureless to man”; but there surely can
be no doubt that in the poem they belong closely and necessarily with the dome…
The very line shows the closeness by the antithesis, the convex against the concave, the
warm against the cold. It is not necessary to invoke Coleridge’s own statement of the theory
of the reconciliation of opposites in art (”the heat in ice” is even one of his examples) to see
that it is the holding together of these two different elements in which the miracle consists.
They are repeated together, also within the single line, 47, in Part Two. Lowes shows clearly
how in Coleridge’s memory the caves of ice came to be associated with the sacred river; and
in his sources the ice does not indicate terror or torment or death (as Miss Bodkin seems to
think Coleridge’s ice does here), but rather the marvellous, and the delight which
accompanies the marvellous; the ice is linked specifically to the fountains sacred to the moon.
This marvelousness is present also in Kubla Khan, but there is more: ice is shining, clear,
crystalline, hard: and here it adds greater strength and austerity to what would be otherwise
the lush, soft, even sentimental, core of the poem. As it is, the miracle of rare device consists
in the combination of these softer and harder elements. And when this is seen in relation to
the act of poetic creation, . . . its function is still plainer: such creation has this element of
austerity in it.
For this is a vision of the ideal human life as the poetic imagination can create it. Part
one only exists in the light of Part Two. There may be other Paradises…but this is the
creation of the poet in his frenzy. And it is because he can create it that he deserves the ritual
dread”.
Line 37. An abrupt transition, but we have already established the basic connection between
the two parts. Dulcimer : a musical instrument; a kind of primitive piano; the word has an
archaic and musical appeal.
L.39. An Abyssinian maid; a girl belonging to Abyssinia (in Ethiopia); introduced
apparently as another element of romance.
L.41. Mount Abora : seems to be reminiscent of “Mount Amara’” in Milton’s Paradise
Lost (Book IV, L.218)
Mount Amara : was a high mountain, said to be near the source of the river Nile.
The children of Abyssinian Kings were brought up in beautiful garden palaces on
the top of this mountain, lest they should rebel. The place enjoyed perpetual spring,
and was claimed by many to be the true Paradise. The girl of Coleridge’s dream
probably sang in praise of Mount Abora. What sort of praise ? Probably she sang in
praise of its exotic splendour, eternal charm and exquisite beauty.
L.42-47. The lines depict the power of poetic imagination. The poet needs only ‘inspiration’
to emulate Kubla’s feat; he does not need to be a tyrant with full authority over his
surroundings.
L.43. Symphony and song: melody and music of her song.
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 L.44. could win me: enrapture, enthuse, enchant me.
L.45. that music…long: the inspired poet would also come out with such impassioned
verse, may be sung to the accompaniment of some musical instrument, that those
who ‘heard’ him would be able to visualize clearly that ‘sunny pleasure-dome’ and
those caves of ice in their imagination; i.e. his poetry would call up in the
imagination so vivid a picture that the hearers would think they saw the real objects
(The power of music is well-known. Remember Tansen and his feats).
L.49-54. Beware ! Beware \ etc. Why ? Because people would take him to be a magician.
Only a magician can attempt such a feat.
L.51. Weave…thrice: i.e. perform magic incantations for protection from him, since his
ability to call up this vision proves that he possesses occult powers.
An inspired poet is almost like a magician with glittering eyes and disheveled hair.
He radiates a mysterious and uncanny power and has to be contained within a circle, so that
others may not be affected by him. (a common practice in magic; you are already familiar
with the importance of the word “thrice”). He is nearly divine in his inspiration, for he is
brought up on the food of the gods. His exaltations, ardours and enthusiasms are the result of
poetic inspiration: and poetic inspiration is sustained by divine visions and immortal
longings. He is on the earth, but his mind and soul are lost in heavenly pursuits.
Such a poet can produce the illusion of reality in the minds of listeners.
Notice that Lines 49 to the end mark a further transition in the poem: from the lady with
a dulcimer to the poet inspired by magic powers.
L.50. His flashing…hair: the typical signs of one under the influence of supernatural
powers; poets are supposed to be under such an influence when visions come to
them.
Flashing eyes: ‘the seeing eyes’ as Carlyle puts it, of the poet.
Floating hair: poets are usually found growing their hair long.
L.53-54. These are the signs of his being a favoured or immortal creature. He is not a man
like other men.
According to Coleridge, the poet is specially gifted, being endowed with special
susceptibilities and sustained by food which comes to him direct from heaven. That
is, he lives on divine impulses and inspirations more than other men.
Holy dread: the sacred idea of divine awe and reverence which is due to the poet.
For he…Paradise: for the poet has partaken of the same divine food as was
dropped from Heaven to save the hungry Israelites.
Honey-dew: in this word the allusion is to the book of Exodus of the Old Testament
of the Holy Bible: God Almighty appeared before Moses in a dream and
commanded him to lead the Israelites, the chosen people of God, out of Egypt and
added that He himself would appear before them in the form of a cloud by day and
the Pillar of Fire by night to show them the way in the wilderness and He showered
Manna or Divine Food upon the hungry Israelites and the milk of Paradise to
quench their thirst.
All this means that the poet had received the gift of divine inspiration by reviving
the song of the Abyssinian maid.

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 L.54. Paradise : What is this Paradise ?
Critics differ in their interpretation of this word too. We will quote Humphry House
here. At this point we must caution you that sometimes you may get confused and wonder
which interpretation to believe in. At this level you have to wrestle with such problems. You
have to, so to speak, ‘meander’ your way through a ‘maze’ of differing, sometimes confusing
critical opinions, and arrive at your destination. What destination? Not the ‘sunless sea’ or
‘ocean’, but a considered, definite and a bold formulation of your own opinion, supported
closely by the text.
Here is what House has to say :
‘Positively, it causes a distortion of the poem if we try to approximate this Paradise
either to the earthly Paradise of Eden before the Fall or to the Heavenly Paradise which is the
ultimate abode of the blest. It may take its imagery from Eden, but it is not Eden because
Kubla Khan is not Adam. Kubla Khan himself is literally an oriental Prince with his name
adapted from Purchas. We may, if we persist in hankering after formal equations, incline to
say he is the Representative Man, or Mankind in general: but what matters is not his
supposed fixed and antecedent symbolic character, so much as his activity. Within the
landscape treated as literal he must be of princely scope, in order to decree the dome and
gardens : and it is this decree that matters, for it images the power of man over his
environment and the fact that man makes his Paradise for himself. Just as the whole poem is
about poetic creation at the imaginative level, so, within the work of the imagination, occurs
the creativeness of man at the ethical and practical levels. This is what the poet, of all men, is
capable of 134ealizing… the name of Kubla is repeated only once after the first line, and the
place of its repetition is significant:
‘And’ mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war’.
This is essential to the full unity of the conception: the Paradise contains knowledge of
the threat of its own possible destruction. It is not held as a permanent gift; the ideal life is
always open to forces of evil; it must be not only created by man for himself, but also
defended by him. It is not of the essence of this paradise that it must be lost; but there is a.
risk that it may be lost.” (Coleridge).
Towards the end, we quote Allan Grant:
”Many of the features of the landscape of Kubla Khan are referable to specific sources in
books of oriental travel and history. One could not, however, even if one wanted to, map out
or diagrammatize the relationship of the river, plain and caverns. Yet within the poem they
seem to suggest very powerfully a sense of the surging up of the river of life, Alph (or Alpha,
the first letter of the Greek alphabet), and the fertilizing of the garden of life before it sinks
into an unfathomable sea of death.” (A Preface to Coleridge).

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5. Dejection : An Ode: The Poem

Late, late yestreen I saw the new Moon,

With the old Moon in her arms;
And 1 fear, 1 fear, my Master dear!
We shall have a deadly storm.
(Ballad of Sir Patrick Spence.)

WELE ! If the Bard was weather-wise, who made

The grand old ballad of Sir Patrick Spence,
This night, so tranquil now, will not go hence
Unroused by winds, that ply a busier trade
Than those which mould yon cloud in lazy flakes,
Or the dull sobbing draft, that moans and rakes
Upon the strings of this Aeolian lute,
Which better far were mute.
For io! the New-moon winter-bright!
And overspread with phantom light
(With swimming phantom light o’erspread
But rimmed and circled by a silver thread)
I see the old Moon in her lap. foretelling
The coming-on of rain and squally blast.
And oh! that even now the gust were swelling,
And the slant night-shower driving loud and fast!
Those sounds which oft have raised me, whilst they awed,
And sent my soul abroad,
Might now perhaps their wonted impulse give,
Might startle this dull pain, and make it move and live!
A grief without a pang, void, dark, and drear,
A stifled, drowsy, unimpassioned grief,
Which finds no natural outlet, no relief.
In word, or sigh, or tear-
O Lady ! in this wan and heartless mood.
To other thoughts by yonder throstle woo’d,
All this long eve, so balmy and serene,
Have I been gazing on the western sky,
And its peculiar tint of yellow green:
And still I gaze-and with how blank an eye!
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And those thin clouds above, in flakes and bars,
That give away their motion to the stars;
Those stars, that glide behind them or between,
Now sparkling, now bedimmed, but always seen:
Yon crescent Moon, as fixed as if it grew
In its own cloudless, starless lake of blue;
I see them all so excellently fair,
I see, not feel, how beautiful they are!
My genial spirits fail;
And what can these avail
To lift the smothering weight from off my breast ?
It were a vain endeavour,
Though I should gaze for ever
On that green light that lingers in the west:
I may not hope from outward forms to win
The passion and the life, whose fountains are within.
O Lady ! we receive but what we give,
And in our life alone does Nature live:
Ours is her wedding garment, ours her shroud !
And would we aught behold, of higher worth,
Than that inanimate cold world allowed
To the poor loveless ever-anxious crowd,
Ah! from the soul itself must issue forth
A light, a glory, a fair luminous cloud
Enveloping the Earth-
And from the soul itself must there be sent
A sweet and potent voice, of its own birth,
Of all sweet sounds the life and element !
O pure of heart ! thou need’st not ask of me
What this strong music in the soul may be!
What, and wherein it doth exist,
This light, this glory, this fair luminous mist,
This beautiful and beauty-making power.
Joy, virtuous Lady ! Joy that ne’er was given,
Save to the pure, and in their purest hour,
Life, and Life’s effluence, cloud at once and shower, Joy,
Lady! is the spirit and the power,
Which wedding Nature to us gives in dower
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A new Earth and new Heaven,
Undreamt of by the sensual and the proud
Joy is the sweet voice, Joy the luminous cloud
We in ourselves rejoice!
And thence flows all that charms or ear or sight,
All melodies the echoes of that voice,
All colours a suffusion from that light.
There was a time when, though my path was rough.
This joy within me dallied with distress,
And all misfortunes were but as the stuff
Whence Fancy made me dreams of happiness:
For hope grew round me, like the twining vine,
And fruits, and foliage, not my own, seemed mine.
But now afflictions bow me down to earth:
Nor care I that they rob me of my mirth;
But oh! each visitation
Suspends what nature gave me at my birth,
My shaping spirit of Imagination.
For not to think of what I needs must feel,
But to be still and patient, all I can;
And haply by abstruse research to steal
From my own nature all the natural man
This was my sole resource, my only plan:
Till that which suits a part infects the whole,
And now is almost grown the habit of my soul.
Hence, viper thoughts, that coil around my mind,
Reality’s dark dream!
1 turn from you, and listen to the wind, .
Which long has raved unnoticed. What a scream
Of agony by torture lengthened out
That lute sent forth ! Thou Wind, that rav’st without,
Bare crag, or mountain-tarn, or blasted tree,
Or pine-grove whither woodman never clomb,
Or lonely house, long held witches’ home,
Methinks were fitter instruments for thee,
Mad Lutanist! who in this month of showers,
Of dark-brown gardens, and a peeping flowers,
Mak’st Devils’ yule, with worse than wintry song,
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The blossoms, buds, and timorous leaves among.
Thou Actor, perfect in all tragic sounds !
Thou mighty Poet, e’en to frenzy bold !
What tell’st thou now about ?
‘Tis of the rushing of an host in rout,
With groans of trampled men, with smarting wounds –
At once they groan with pain, and shudder with cold !
But hush ! there is a pause of deepest silence !
And all that noise, as of a rushing crowd,
With groans, and tremulous shudderings -all is over-
It tells another tale, with sounds less deep and loud!
A tale of less affright
And tempered with delight,
As Otway’s self had framed the tender lay,-
‘Tis of a little child
Upon a lonesome wild,
Not far from home, but she hath lost her way:
And now moans low in bitter grief and fear,
And now screams loud, and hopes to make her mother hear.
‘Tis midnight, but small thoughts have I of sleep:
Full seldom may my friend such vigils keep !
Visit her, gentle Sleep! with wings of healing.
And may this storm be but a mountain-birth,
May all the stars hang bright above her dwelling,
Silent as though they watched the sleeping Earth !
With light heart may she rise,
Gay fancy, cheerful eyes.
Joy lift her spirit, joy attune her voice;
To her may all things live, from pole to pole,
Their life the eddying of her living soul!
O simple spirit, guided from above,
Dear Lady ! friend devoutest of my choice,
Thus mayest thou ever, ever more rejoice.

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6. Dejection : An Ode: An Analysis
This poem describes the feeling of apathy and despair which was at once a cause and a
result of Coleridge’s indulgence in drugs and which finally destroyed the best part of his
poetic career. Before we take up the poem for discussion, it would be appropriate if we tell
you what is meant by the term ‘Ode’.
6.1 The Ode
The Ode is a form of a Lyric poem, characterized by its length, intricate stanza forms,
grandeur of style and seriousness of purpose, with a long and venerable history in classical
and post-Renaissance poetry. It is often written in celebration of some special event.
The Greek poet Pindar (518-438 B.C.) established this form. His odes were written to
glorify the winners of the Olympic and other games. His poetry is marked-by elevated
thought, bold metaphor, and the free use of myths. He modelled his stanzas on the dramatic
chorus, using a threefold pattern like the dance rhythm of strophe (moving to left),
antistrophe (moving to right), and epode (standing still); the rhyme scheme is fixed.
Some English poets like Gray in “The Progress of Poesy” (1754) followed the regular or
Pindaric ode. Others, like Cowley, came out with the modified form of the Pindaric Ode,
called the irregular ode: each stanza follows its own pattern with varied line lengths, rhyme
schemes and numbers of lines.
Cowley’s modified version of the Pindaric ode, with its freedom to alter the form in
accordance with changing argument, subject matter and feeling, has proved very-influential.
Coleridge and Wordsworth use irregular ode form for their Dejection (1802) and
Intimations of Immortality (1807) poems respectively.
6.2 Ode to Dejection
With this brief introduction to an ode, we can now take up Dejection. This poem is
considered to be the most extended of the conversation poems. 1 It was first written as a
poetical letter of 340 lines, dated 4 April, 1802, and sent to Sara Hutchinson. An intermediate
version-shortened and with considerable revisions, and this time addressed to Wordsworth,
appears in a letter sent to a friend, William Sotheby, on 19 July, 1802. The final version was
published for the first time in The Morning Post of October 1802. Where ‘Edmund’ is
substituted for the’ Sara’ of the first version. In his collected works of 1817, Sibylline Leaves,
Coleridge uses the word ‘Lady !’, and is addressed to his wife Sara.
Watson sums up the position thus: ‘It seems best to think of the first version of 1802 as a
conversation poem which, by some vagary, has been cast into the form of a rough-and-ready
ode. In the ensuing months it was trimmed to less than half its original length, purged of most
of its private reference, and set forth upon the world as one of the oddest compromises in
English poetry: an intensely, bitterly, almost indecently private poem of an unhappily married
poet, cast into that most public of all forms, the neoclassical Pindaric. The language swirls
upwards and downwards from a studiously conversational opening (‘Well! If the Bard was
weather-wise…’) to passages of a grave sublimity that Coleridge had scarcely ever
achieved.... It is by this startling contrast of the formal and the informal that the poem lives,
and for just this reason there can be no doubt of the superiority of the final version, where the
original 340 lines have been reduced to a tight-packed 139. Coleridge is so exuberant a poet,
and so little self-critical in his creative moments, that it is exceptional to watch him at work,
as here, with the pruning-hook...... On the whole, it is surely clear, the reduction of the ode to

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its familiar form is a continuous triumph of critical acumen,” (George Watson: Coleridge the
Poet).
Dejection is one of a number of poems written in the early months of 1802 by Coleridge
and Wordsworth. They include Wordsworth’s Resolution and Independence, and Intimations
of Immortality ode. Each of them is a response to a sense of irreparable loss, and the phrase
“There was a time” from Dejection becomes the opening line of the Immortality Ode. Each
poet seems to be suffering a crisis of confidence in his poetic gift, fearing the loss of his
creative imagination; and each uses the word dejection to describe the accompanying mood.
Each poet conceived of and responded to the crisis in his own way and the paradoxical result
was the creation of three Romantic poems on the subject of the loss of the poetic imagination.
The paradox is most clearly stated and felt in the final Dejection which had by now become a
poem about the inability to make poetry.
An interesting point about this poem is that in it we find a change in Coleridge’s attitude
to Nature. And you can understand this change better if you read two of his earlier poems :
The Eolian Harp (1795) and Frost at Midnight (1798) In the first poem the poet expresses the
idea that the same Divine Spirit pervades the entire universe. The poet thinks that one cannot
help loving all things in a world which is so permeated by the Divine spirit. The poet shows
his keen sensitivity to Nature and to every object of Nature. Wordsworth, you should
remember, firmly believed in this idea.
Frost at Midnight shows Coleridge’s attitude to Nature much more clearly, and
Wordsworth’s complete and overwhelming influence is quite evident. In the third stanza of
the poem, the poet says that God speaks through Nature and that Nature will educate and
mould his child. Nature exercises a great educative influence.
This is one attitude to Nature. But in the first stanza of this poem itself, we find the poet
expressing the belief that outward objects merely reflect or mirror our own thoughts and
moods. This idea provides us with a clue to Coleridge’s later view of Nature. It is in
Dejection Ode that we find the above belief fully developed :
O Lady ! we receive but what we give,
And in our life alone does Nature live:
Ours is her wedding garment, ours her shroud !
He now believes that Nature can give no joy to those who have no joy already in their
hearts. Bitter failures and disappointments in life led Coleridge to lose faith in Nature as a
healing power.
The final version of the Ode is often compared with the original verse letter addressed to Sara
Huchinson. Many critics feel that the original version is more personal and painful and
therefore more ‘sincere’. That may be the case, but we must guard ourselves against giving
undue importance to Coleridge’s private griefs during the period preceding the composition
of the original version. For, it was not for nothing that he reworked the poem so as to cut out
all the associations that had occasioned the poem originally, wanted to bring before the public
a finished work of art, and not a mere rambling sort of piece. But does the Ode convey a
sense of completeness and unity? Humphry House on this point observes : ‘I think it is the
opinion of many readers of the Ode, that brilliantly successful as most of it is, as parts, yet it
fails to achieve complete artistic unity. By comparison with “Frost at Midnight” or “The
Ancient Mariner” or “l Khan” it is not a whole poem.” (We will discuss this statement in our
study Notes, when we come to stanza VII).

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 One more point needs your careful attention. The poem will make complete sense only
if you do not forget that after cutting and pruning the original version, it was brought forth as
an Ode addressed to William Wordsworth. It was only after some estrangement with his
friend that Coleridge substituted “Lady” for “Edmund” and the poem was altered so as to
erase al1 allusions to their friendship. But that does not alter the fact that Wordsworth’s
personality is all pervading in the Ode. What is more, as we mentioned earlier also, the
Dejection Ode and Immortality Ode have interesting points of comparison and contrast. In
the VI stanza, Coleridge refers to his past joy and describe his present mood of grief.
Wordsworth, in the opening stanza of his Ode, expresses the same idea : ‘It is not now as it
hath been of yore.’ But in Wordsworth’s Ode grief finds relief and ends in joy ; in
Coleridge’s poem grief finds no relief and ends in dejection.
Both poems reveal the irregular rhyme pattern and the interspersing of long and short
lines. (See Bowra’s The Romantic Imagination for a discussion of the two Odes).
1. Conversation poems: Between August 1795 and April 1798, Coleridge composed
the group of poems popularly known as the ‘conversation Poems’ — like “The Eolian
Harp, ‘This Lime-Tree Bower my Prison’, ‘Frost at Midnight’. ‘Fears in Solitude’,
and ‘Dejection’. These poems, displaying a distinctive style, have been called
‘meditations in blank verse’. Strictly, a conversation is an exchange between two
persons. But these poems are rather monologues, being addressed to wife, son, a
ioved one or a friend.
6.2 Study Notes
Motto : The stanza forms part of the ballad from “Percy's Reliques – ‘Ballad of Sir
Patrick Spence.’ In this ballad, Sir Patrick Spence has superstitious fear of “new Moon/with
the old Moon in her arms”, as it portends a “deadly storm,” Coleridge incorporates this idea
in his poem. Thomas Percy's collection of ballads Reliques of Ancient English Poetry (1765)
made a great impression on the Romantic poets.
Well : The conversational tone of the opening gives the poet the opportunity to make his
whole poem a gradual crescendo.
6.2.1 Stanza I
Bard : The poet who wrote the Ballad of Sir Patrick Spence, which describes the wrecking of
Sir Patrick's ship off Aberdeen shire in a violent storm, Sir Patrick had correctly foreseen the
advent of a 'storm.
Weather-wise: having the ability to speak wisely about the weather.
that......trade : winds which are more busy, i.e. more rough and stormy.
lazy flakes : mild wind, as compared with active wind, breaks the cloud in pieces or
fragments which move about in the sky lazily.
dull....draft: dull, melancholy breeze
rakes upon : touches gently
Aeolian lute : While discussing the poem The Eolian Harp, Allan Grant Comments :
The aeolian or wind-harp was a German invention of the early seventeenth century consisting
of a sounding board designed to amplify, as in any stringed instrument, the vibrations of the
strings stretched over it. Lying near an open window it would produce a thin 'ethereal' sound
in response to the wind blowing over it. producing a ‘natural’ music. Its appropriateness as a

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metaphor for Romantic poetry is obvious. Compare its appearance in Dejection : an ode .....
Wordsworth used it in his verse.... (Prelude, 1805. Book I)... Shelley and Hazlitt both
referred to it explicitly when attempting to define the nature of poetry. (Allan Grant: A
Preface to Coleridge, p.106).
(Aeolus in ancient mythology was the god of the wind).
For lo ! : The poet now gives reasons for the lute to remain silent (the preceding line).
Winter-bright: as bright as in winter.
I see ....lap : The new moon is covered with an unearthly light and is thus encircled by a
thread-like circular line producing the impression that the old Moon is in the lap of the new.
(There was a superstition that if the old moon was seen in the lap of the new, there would be
heavy rains and furious storms. Coleridge takes this idea from Ballad of Sir Patrick Spence.)
Ind oh !. so far the poet has only stated the possibility of the coming of a furious storm.
But now, in these lines, the poet already notices the wind developing into a storm and rain
falling in a slanting direction.
those sounds... and live : There was a time when natural objects moved him deeply. But
is not so now. The poet’s heart is benumbed by .pain; so he welcomes the approaching storm,
hoping that it would ‘shake’ him out of his paralysing pain. It may not relieve his pain, but
certainly it will at least give some life to that pain and break the sluggish monotony of that
pain.
6.2.2 Stanza II
The first four lines of this stanza give expression to Coleridge’s grief. But these are not
ordinary lines. Sadder lines than these were never perhaps written by any poet in description
of his own grief. What actually occasioned this feeling of intense dissatisfaction, sense of
utter dejection and hopelessness? A large part of it was occasioned by an increasing
awareness of the fact that his inborn gift of imagination was decaying and that his interest
was shifting to philosophy and metaphysics, or ‘abstruse research’—as he calls in this “Ode”.
In other words he was becoming more and more of a philosopher or thinker and less and less
of a poet. The ‘shaping spirit of Imagination’ was deserting him. This change greatly
distressed him, and finds expression in this heart-rending and deeply pathetic poem.
A pang : a deep-rooted sense of pain
Void : empty
Drear : desolate, dull and monotonous.
Stifled : suppressed unimpassioned grief; grief which manifests no deep feeling, no
sense of total involvement.
A grief.... or tear : Intensely moving lines, expressing the poet’s dilemma and pathos in
the choicest of words.
O Lady : This may be considered as the second part of the stanza. Originally, in the
manuscript, the expression was ‘O William”, i.e. William Wordsworth, You will realise that
this makes far more sense.
The poet now gives a beautiful picture of the skyscraper late in the evening. But he
views everything with a ‘blank’ gaze. He cannot feel the beauty of the sky and the stars.
Wan : pale, cheerless
heartless : joyless
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 throstle : a kind of singing bird.
woo’d : induced, persuaded. The song of the bird persuades the poet to forget his grief
and think of other things—things which can give him some relief.
blank an eye : with a vacant eye ; without any expression in the eyes ; without reacting
to the scene in anyway ; empty of emotion and intelligence.
Crescent Moon : semi-circular moon.
I see them... they are : The poet can ‘see’, but cannot ‘feel’. Coleridge here gives
expression to an experience of double consciousness. His sense perceptions are vivid and in
part agreeable ; his inner state is faint, blurred, unhappy. The power of ‘feeling” has been
paralysed by metaphysical or abstract investigations. The power of ‘seeing’, less dependent
upon bodily health, stands aloof, somewhat indifferent, and yet mournful and critical. By
‘seeing’ he means perceiving and judging; by ‘feeling’ he means that which induces one to
react. We can call these as Coleridge’s different modes of perception. But, as Humphry
House insists, this is “not primarily a poem about modes of perception. It is a poem about
unhappiness and about love and about joy. Of the later autobiographical poems there is least
of self-pity in it, the self-analysis being all the clearer and more mature therefore, because the
sense of love and of joy is so strong. This idea of joy was a guiding principal of Coleridge’s
life.” (Humphry House: Coleridge)
Humphry House is of the view that in our zeal to find some sort of philosophy reflected
in his poems, we should not overlook the presence of affections and feelings in them.
6.2.3 Stanza III
The mood, in this stanza as well as the previous one. is peculiarly modern, recognizable as
free-floating anxiety to the psychoanalyst or as existential dread to the existentialist
philosopher. Its chief characteristic is that it is a generalized and inexplicable feeling which
cannot be located in any particular source,
(Existentialism is a philosophical trend which stresses the importance of existence, as
opposed to the view held by most philosophies and theologies that man’s actual existence in
the world is less significant than some pre-existing essence. In general, existentialism takes
the view that the universe is an inexplicable, meaningless and dangerous theatre for the
individual’s being, his existence. Everyone has to assume the responsibility of making
choices that determine the nature of this existence. This freedom puts man into a state of
anxiety, surrounded as he is by infinite possibilities, while remaining ignorant of the future,
except for the fact that his life is finite, and will finish, just as it began in nothingness.)
genial spirits : sympathetic, sociable; or happy, cheerful spirits.
smothering weight: pressing, crushing burden.
passion : stirring of feelings ; excitement.
whose.... within ; whose real source of joy, happiness and creativity lie in the heart
itself. (The metaphor of the fountain is, like the aeolian lute, an important Romantic image. It
appears in Kubla Khan and in Wordsworth’s definition of poetry in the 1800 Preface as ‘the
spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings.’ Fountain is used as a metaphor of creativity).
I may not .....within : We can also explain it like this : ‘I cannot hope to derive from
external Nature the life and depth of emotion which have their source in the soul.’

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6.2.4 Stanza IV
An important stanza, depicting Coleridge’s changed attitude to Nature, contradicting his own
earlier stand, and also Wordsworth’s philosophy of Nature—the belief that Nature has a life
of its own, that a Divine spirit passes through all objects of Nature, and so on.
In this stanza, the poet says that Nature has no life of its own, and that we transfer to it
our own moods and our own feelings.
O Lady ! : The poet addresses, Sara, his wife.
We receive...give : We find in Nature whatever we have transferred to it from our own
hearts. In other words, we see things according to our own moods.
And in...live : Nature lives only in our imagination. It has no life of its own. If it seems
full of life, it is because we have endowed it with life.
Ours.... shroud : Wedding garments symbolize festivity, joy and happiness. Shroud is
cloth in which a dead body is wrapped. Hence it is a symbol of grief or mourning. What the
poet wants to convey is that it is our thoughts which make Nature bright and attractive or
dark and gloomy, as the case may be. If we are happy, Nature too seems to be joyous, as
though celebrating a festival. But if we are sad, Nature too seems to be in mourning. In other
words, it is our thoughts which make Nature seem happy like a bride or wretched like a dead
man. Thus. Coleridge here is contending against the Wordsworthian doctrine of the influence
of Nature. (Recall here The Ancient Mariner, Lines 244-247 ; then lines 313-317, depicting a
close affinity between outside world and mental states of mind. This is what links the two
poems together.)
And would....Earth : If we wish to see anything of high and noble quality in nature, so
that it may give some solace to the wretched, ever-worried mankind, then from our own souls
some light should come forth and envelop the whole Earth. We pretend to read a deep
significance in Nature (as Wordsworth did. and Coleridge himself did in his earlier poems
like The Eolian Harp). But in fact the cold and lifeless objects of Nature do not lend any
inspiration to care-worn mankind, nor can they teach us moral or spiritual lessons. The light
which illumines dark Nature comes from our own hearts and minds.
And from, . . . element: The soul of a human being must itself send forth a sweet and
powerful voice which will endow the varied sounds of Nature with sweetness.
Of Us own birth : having its origin in the soul itself and not in any external object.
Of all....element: a sweet and powerful voice, coming out of the soul itself, gives life
and cheerfulness to all the sweet sounds of Nature. Thus, the joy, the radiance, the inspiration
to stir and stimulate a man come from his inner self and not from Nature.
The above stanza shows Coleridge’s complete disillusionment with Nature and as we
said earlier, contradicts Wordsworth’s view of Nature as expressed in the following lines in
Tintern Abbey :
And I have felt
A presence that disturbs me with the joy
Of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime
Of something far more deeply interfused,
Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns,
And the round ocean and the living air,
And the blue sky, and in the mind of man:
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6.2.5 Stanza V
In this stanza, the poet touches upon the source of the ‘light’, the radiance, the bright
mist which pervades all objects of nature. The source lies in the joy in one’s heart. And it is
this joy which leads to acts of poetic creation.
What is this ‘joy’ anyway? According to Humphry House, “the joy of Dejection must be
understood as involving the ‘deep delight’ which Kubla Khan shows at the centre of creative
happiness.” It is a special kind of joy, a solemn joy, a state of being when the emotional and
intellectual faculties are in equipoise. It is closely related to the ‘shaping spirit of
imagination’—something which activates the poet’s imagination, which in turn ‘creates’ and
‘forms’.
This beautiful...power: The power of the soul, or the mental light, is not only beautiful
in itself but is also capable of creating beautiful things. In other words, the poet, with his
fertile imagination, can make beautiful objects.
Life...and shower : “Joy is at once life and the thoughts and feelings which arise from
life; joy is at once that cloud which pours forth the shower and the shower itself
Joy...Heaven : in other words, if we ally or unite ourselves with Nature, i.e., open our
hearts and minds to the influences of Nature, then it is joy, and joy only, in our hearts which
enables us to view the Earth and the Heaven in a new light.
We...rejoice : It is because of the joy in our own hearts that we feel happy,
We thence...sight: From there flows all that delights our eyes or ears.
All melodies...light : All the sweet sounds of the external world are echoes of that sweet
and powerful voice, and all the beautiful colours that we see in the external world are a
reflection of that light (which flows from the joy in our own hearts). In other words, an
artist’s main source of inspiration is the joy in his own heart. External nature cannot help him
at all if there is gloom or distress in his heart. (This was the case with Coleridge, and hence
his dejection).
6.2.6 Stanza VI
The opening line should remind you of some other poem—also by a Romantic poet.
Which poem?
This stanza throws light on the real cause of the poet’s sense of dejection and grief. This
joy,..,distress : The joy within me enabled me to make light of my sufferings.
And all happiness : ‘All misfortunes served merely as material for my Fancy’ to weave
new visions of happiness.’
For hope, . . . . seemed mine : a beautiful simile, merging into a metaphor. Hope is
compared to a climbing plant which twines round a tree. Just as the fruits and leaves of a
plant growing around a tree seem to belong to the tree itself, similarly many bright prospects,
spawned by hope, seemed to belong to the poet, even though they belonged to someone else.
But now...birth : Earlier, hope kept his spirits high, but now sufferings and misfortunes
have almost crushed him ; the poet doesn’t care if these sufferings have robbed him of his
native joy.
But Oh!...Imagination : Now comes the real crush. What galls him most is that every fit
of mental dejection obstructs the operation of that faculty which enabled him to ‘create’ and

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‘form’, and which he was endowed with by nature at the time of his birth. In other words, his
sorrows and misfortunes have weakened his inborn creative imagination.
my shaping...Imagination : “my imagination, which creates and forms”.
For not ...all I can ; Coleridge says that his only resource against his increasing
melancholy was deliberately to divert his mind from his feelings, to cultivate a quiet mode of
life, and to immerse himself in deep metaphysical studies, in the hope of changing his nature
and conquering his excessive sensitiveness.
Till that...my soul: the metaphysical speculations which at one time formed only one
small part of his nature, gradually took possession of his whole being ; with the result that
speculative and philosophical strain in him has become the ‘habit’ of his ‘soul’, weakening
thereby his creative faculty. In other words, abstract or metaphysical investigations, which he
began as a bulwark against ‘afflictions’, have completely taken possession of his soul. It is
this fact which he regrets, for it has led to a complete drying up of his creative powers.
6.2.7 Stanza VII
We said in the beginning that some critics claim that the Ode fails to ‘achieve complete
artistic unity’, and is brilliantly successful only in parts. And it is Stanza VII which primarily
comes in the way of accepting the Ode as a whole. Let us see what Humphry House has to
say on this point.
”In the received text, the opening of stanza VII especially, and its placing and relevance,
are serious obstacles to accepting the poem as a whole. The stanza opens with a sudden twist
of thought, in very awkward language :
Hence, viper thoughts, that coil around my mind,
Reality’s dark dream!
1 turn from you, and listen to the wind, .
Which long has raved unnoticed.
And the “Viper thoughts” against which this revulsion occurs are the famous meditative
stanza about the loss of his “shaping spirit of imagination”, ending with the lines :
Till that which suits a part infects the whole,
And now is almost grown the habit of my soul.
The phrase “reality’s dark dream’’ then applies to the firm, sad honesty of self-analysis
which make the greatness of that stanza”. (Humphry House: Coleridge.) The purpose of
quoting House’s views at length is to enable you to form your own opinion also. Let it also be
remembered that House’s analysis of the poem is based on his close comparison between the
published Ode and the original version. If we forget the original version, then perhaps we can
find coherence and unity in the poem.
Viper thoughts : poisonous thoughts ; a viper is a kind of poisonous snake.
that coil...mind: ‘poisonous thought which wind about my mind just as a snake coils
itself round its victim’. The bite of a viper is deadly. Similarly, the poet seems to say, if he
remains engrossed in thoughts of dejection and sorrow, and if he continues to mourn the loss
of his ‘shaping spirit of ‘Imagination’, then his own will and mind would be totally paralysed
and benumbed.
‘Viper thoughts’, perhaps, can also be applied to the ideas expressed in the previous
stanzas. For, even though the thought-process is somewhat rambling and loose, a clear theme
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emerges—the poet’s intense pain and a sense of desolation. And in this stanza he wants to get
away from all this— ‘reality’s dark dream’. Reality is too cruel, and makes life appear like a
frightening dream.
turn, . . . unnoticed : During all these thoughts, the wind has been raging furiously for a
long time. It is as though the poet suddenly remembers the wind which he mentioned in the
first stanza.
What . . . forth : (The place of the lute in this poem is in sharp contrast to the
speculations it gives rise to in The Eolian Harp.) Beginning in a ‘sobbing moan” the kite
sends out a scream of agony by torture lengthened out at the wind’s height. In other words, to
the poet, the sound of wind playing upon the lute seems to be the lengthened scream of one
who is being tortured and who cannot bear the pain. (In “The Eolian Harp”, the lute gives rise
to different speculations.)
The verse gathers momentum here
Crag : rock
mountain-tarn : small mountain lake.
clomb : the old past tense of climb.
peeping flowers : flowers peeping from amongst the leaves.
Mad Lutanist : The wind is called a frenzied, reckless lute-player because of’ Devils’
‘Yule’ that it makes.
Devils’ Yule : Christmas weather, with wild revelry fit for devils. Yule : Christmas.. The
wind is supposed to be celebrating Devils’ Christmas, hence, an unholy Christmas.
The idea is that if Devils were to celebrate Christmas, (which can’t be a happy occasion
for them) they would scream and shriek and make a terrible noise—the like of which was
being made by the wind at present.
With worse...song : The wind is making sounds which are even worse than those which
are heard during the bleak months of winter. (There is more of howling and shrieking of the
wind—storms etc.—in the winter season.)
Thou Actor : The poet now imagines new roles for the wind : as a tragic actor, and as a
bold mighty poet.
perfect.... sounds ! : it can produce all the sounds that are sorrowful.
thou.......bold: thou powerful poet who, in a state of frenzy (poetic inspiration) can
boldly express whatever you want to describe.
host in rout: army running away in defeat. (The poet now guesses the meaning of
wind’s sounds.)
deepest silence : the fury of the storm subsides : the wind is now silent, but in this mood
also, she is not inactive (to the poet, of course).
It tells....loud : the poet is now reminded of a different story.
Otway : Thomas Otway (1652-85) was a dramatist, noted for The Orphan and Venice
Preserved, both plays containing heroines whose sorrows drowned contemporary audiences
in tears. In the original draft of the poem, Coleridge wrote Wordsworth’s for Otway’s and the
allusion in lines 121-5 is to Wordsworth’s Lucy Gray :

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 There is no similar episode in Otway’s works. In a way Coleridge is paying a tribute to
Wordsworth in these lines. Allan Grant makes these observations on stanza VII:
”The language of strophe VII shows a sense of straining after effect, a falling back on
eighteenth-century diction in an effort to match appropriately the mood of the storm. The last
strophe follows only uneasily on the heels of this outburst. But behind the strident tones of
the mad lutanist we feel some stirring of the imagination, through scenes of Alpine loneliness
to pictures of public and private distress, the battle cries and groans and the wailing of a lost
child.
(The emphasis in this stanza is not so much upon the creativeness of the wind (as Actor
and poet) as upon the evils, torments and sorrows which it appears to create.)
6.2.8 Stanza VIII
This stanza ends on a quieter note. The poet, though still restless himself, is full of
tenderness and good wishes for his wife, It presents quite a contrast with the previous stanza.
Full ....keep : The poet does not want his wife Sara to keep awake.
Vigil: sleeplessness : to keep vigils means to remain awake.
but a mountain-birth : this has been taken for an allusion to the mountains in travail
which will bring forth nothing of importance. Another explanation is May the storm be only
local, confined to the mountains. The first interpretation seems to be more appropriate. The
line should be taken as a wish that what seems to be terrible and destructive (‘may this
storm’) may turn out after all to be a mere nothing, or a trifle that cannot disturb Sara’s peace.
Joy... Voice : joy should raise her spirits and lend a sweetness to her voice.
from pole to pole : from one end of the world to the other end.
To her ...live : all things may live for her sake only.
eddy : a whirlpool; a whirlwind ; as a verb, to move round and round.
The metaphor of the whirlpool in connection with the spirit or soul is quite apt. All
things of this world may not only dedicate their existence to her, but may also become a vital
force like a whirlwind, to add energy and strength to her spirit.
guided from above: guided, getting inspiration from Heaven. The last three lines seem
more appropriate as being addressed to Wordsworth. Wordsworth, still a child of Nature and
getting divine inspiration, has not lost his inborn joy, which is the life-breath of poetry. But
since Coleridge himself is out of the race now, he seems to be passing on the torch of poetic
creation to his best friend.

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7. Concepts of Imagination
The term ‘imagination’ has been variously defined: as a power responsible for visual
images, singly or in association; as the capacity for making from these images ideal
combinations of character and objects, on the one hand, and chimeras and castles in the air,
on the other; as a sympathetic projection of the artist into character and situation; as the
faculty which creates the symbols of abstract conceptions; and as creation itself, the “shaping
power” inherent in man.
For the Romantic poets and critics, imagination was no longer a passive recipient of
impressions, but an active agent conferring upon external nature its significance and unity,
For the mystic Blake the imagination was a “spiritual sensation,” “the eternal Body of Man.”
The material world of 18th century empiricism had for him no existence, and Reason was a
spectre and a negation. Some writers, notably Coleridge, have fought to distinguish the
imagination from other similar faculties of the mind (especially ‘fancy’, which in the
eighteenth century was synonymous with imagination) and define it as the principle of
creativity in art. In the famous chapter 13 of Biographia Literaria (1817) Coleridge described
the poetic imagination: “It dissolves, diffuses, dissipates, in order to recreate; or where this
process is rendered impossible, yet still at all events it struggles to idealize and unify. It is
essentially vital, even as all objects (as objects) are essentially fixed and dead,” (BL 1817).
The imagination, that is, is able to “create” rather merely reassemble, by dissolving the
fixities and definities —the mental pictures, or images, received from the senses —and
unifying them into a new whole. And the fancy is merely mechanical, the imagination is
“vital”; that is, it is an organic faculty, which operates not like a machine, but like a living
and growing plant. In chapter 14 of the Biographia, Coleridge explores the way in which the
imagination creates harmonious wholes (poems) out of disparate experience: “This power...
reveals itself in the balance or reconciliation of opposite or discordant qualities: of sameness,
with difference; of the general, with the concrete; the idea with the image... a more than usual
state of emotion, with more than usual order,’” The faculty of imagination, in other words,
assimilates and synthesizes the most disparate elements into an organic whole — that is, a
newly generated unity, constituted by a living interdependence of parts whose identity cannot
survive their removal from the whole.
”Fancy”, according to Coleridge (BL 1817), “.... has no other counters to play with, but
fixities and definities. The Fancy is indeed no other than a mode of Memory emancipated
from the order of time and space”. To Coleridge, thus, the fancy is a mechanical process
which receives the elementary images - the “fixities and definities” which come to it ready-
made from the senses —and, without altering the parts, reassembles them into a different
spatial and temporal order from that in which they were originally perceived.
Most critics often tended to make fancy simply the faculty that produces a lesser, lighter,
or humorous kind of poetry, and to make imagination the faculty that produces a higher, more
serious, and more passionate poetry. And the concept of “imagination” itself is as various as
the modes of psychology that critics have adopted (Freudian, Jungian) and the ways in which
they conceive the essential nature of a poem (as essentially realistic or essentially visionary,
as “object”, or as “myth”, as “pure poetry” or as a work designed to produce effects on an
audience).

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 Coleridge and Wordsworth employed various verbs in describing the process of
imaginative composition (unify, abstract, modify, aggregate, evoke, combine). Metaphor
came to be defined as the result of creative thinking rather than as superficial decoration.
Rejecting the notion that figurative language is adventitious decoration, they, along with
other writers like Hunt, Hazlilt and Ruskin, described poetic language as the result of the
activity of the whole sentient being, involving processes which, in the absence of a more
precise term, they called “imagination”.
7.1 The Romantic Imagination
If we wish to distinguish a single characteristic which differentiates the English
Romantics from the poets of the eighteenth century, it is to be found in the importance which
they attached to the imagination and in the special view which they held of it. On this, despite
significant differences on points of detail, Blake. Coleridge. Wordsworth. Shelley, and Keats
agree, and for each it sustains a deeply considered theory of poetry. In the eighteenth century
imagination was not a cardinal point in poetical theory. For Pope and Johnson, as for Dryden
before them, it has little importance, and when they mention it, it has a limited significance.
They approve of fancy. provided that it is controlled by what they call “judgement,” and they
admire the apt use of images, by which they mean little more than visual impressions and
metaphors. But for them what matters most in poetry is its truth to the emotions, or, as they
prefer to say, sentiment. They wish to speak in general terms for the common experience of
men. not to indulge personal whims in creating new worlds. For them the poet is more an
interpreter than a creator, more concerned with showing the attractions of what we already
know than with expeditions into the unfamiliar and the unseen. They are less interested in the
mysteries of life than in its familiar appearance, and they think that their task is to display this
with as much charm and truth as they can command. But for the Romantics imagination is
fundamental, because they think that without it poetry is impossible.
This belief in the imagination was part of the contemporary belief in the individual self.
The poets were conscious of a wonderful capacity to create imaginary worlds, and they could
not believe that this was idle or false. On the contrary, they thought that to curb it was to deny
something vitally necessary to their whole being. They thought that it was just this which
made them poets, and that in their exercise of it they could do far better than other poets who
sacrificed it to caution and common sense. They saw that the power of poetry is strongest
when the creative impulse works untrammeled, and they knew that in their own case this
happened when they shaped fleeting visions into concrete forms and pursued wild thoughts
until they captured and mastered them. Just as in politics men turned their minds from the
existing order to vast prospects of a reformed humanity, so in the arts they abandoned the
conventional plan of existence for private adventures which had an inspiring glory. As in the
Renaissance poets suddenly found the huge possibilities of the human self and expressed
them in a bold and far-flung art. which is certainly much more than an imitation of life, so the
Romantics, brought to a fuller consciousness of their own powers, felt a similar need to exert
these powers in fashioning new worlds of the mind.
The Romantic emphasis on the imagination was strengthened by considerations which
are both religious and metaphysical. For a century English philosophy had been dominated by
the theories of Locke. He assumed that in perception the mind is wholly passive, a mere
recorder of impressions from without, “a lazy looker on on an external world.” His system
was well suited to an age of scientific speculation which found its representative voice in
Newton, The mechanistic explanation which both philosophers and scientists gave of the
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world meant that scanty respect was paid to the human self and especially to its more
instinctive, though not less powerful, convictions. Thus both Locke and Newton found a
place for God in their universes, the former on the ground that “the works of nature in every
part of them sufficiently evidence a deity,” and the latter on the principle that the great
machine of the world implies a mechanic. But this was not at all what the Romantics
demanded from religion. For them it was a question less of reason than of feeling, less of
argument than of experience, and they complained that these mechanistic explanations were a
denial of their innermost convictions. So too with poetry. Locke had views on poetry, as he
had on most human activities, but no very high regard for it. For him it is a matter of “wit”,
and the task of wit is to combine ideas and “thereby to make up pleasant pictures and
agreeable visions in the fancy.” Wit, in his view, is quite irresponsible and not troubled with
truth or reality. The Romantics rejected with contumely a theory which robbed their work of
its essential connection with life.
Locke is the target both of Blake and of Coleridge, to whom he represents a deadly
heresy on the nature of existence. They are concerned with more than discrediting his special
views on God and poetry: they are hostile to his whole system which supports those views,
and, even worse, robs the human self of importance. They reject his conception of the
universe and replace it by their own systems, which deserve the name of “idealist” because
mind is their central point and governing factor. But because they are poets, they insist that
the most vital activity of the mind is the imagination. Since for them it is the very source of
spiritual energy, they cannot but believe that it is divine, and that, when they exercise it, they
in some way partake of the activity of God. Blake says proudly and prophetically:

This world of Imagination is the world of Eternity; it is the divine bosom into which we
shall all go after the death of the Vegetated body. This World of Imagination is Infinite
and Eternal, whereas the world of Generation, or Vegetation, is Finite and Temporal.
There Exist in that Eternal World the Permanent Realities of Every Thing which we see
reflected in this Vegetable Glass of Nature. All things are comprehended in their Eternal
Forms in the divine body of the Saviour, the True Vine of Eternity, The Human
Imagination.3

For Blake the imagination is nothing less than God as He operates in the human soul. It
follows that any act of creation performed by the imagination is divine and that in the
imagination man’s spiritual nature, is fully and finally realized. Coleridge does not speak
with so apocalyptic a certainty, but his conclusion is not very different from Blake’s:

The primary IMAGINATION I hold to be the living Power and prime Agent of all
human Perception, and as a repetition in the finite mind of the eternal act of creation in
the infinite I AM.

It is true that he regards poetry as a product of the secondary imagination, but since this
differs only in degree from the primary, it remains clear that for Coleridge the imagination is
of first importance because it partakes of the creative activity of God.
This is a tremendous claim, and it is not confined to Blake and Coleridge. It was to some
degree held by Wordsworth and Shelley and Keats. Each was confident not only that the
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imagination was his most precious possession but that it was somehow concerned with a
supernatural order. Never before had quite such a claim been made, and from it Romantic
poetry derives much that is most magical in it. The danger of so bold an assumption is that
the poet may be so absorbed in his own private universe and in the exploration of its remoter
corners that he may be unable to convey his essential experience to other men and fail to
convert them to his special creed. The Romantics certainly created worlds of their own, but
they succeeded in persuading others that these were not absurd or merely fanciful. Indeed, in
this respect they were closer to earth and the common man than some of their German
contemporaries. They have not the respect for unsatisfied longing as an end in itself or the
belief in hallucination and magic which play so large a part in the mind of Brentano, nor have
they that nihilistic delight in being detached from life, of which Novalis writes to Caroline
Schlegel:

I know that imagination is most attracted by what is most immoral, most animal; but
I also know how like a dream all imagination is, how it loves night, meaninglessness,
and solitude.

This was not what the English Romantics thought. They believed that the imagination stands
in some essential relation to truth and reality, and they were at pains to make their poetry pay
attention to them.
In doing this they encountered an old difficulty. If a man gives free play to his
imagination, what assurance is there that what he says is in any sense true? Can it tell us
anything that we do not know, or is it so removed from ordinary life as to be an escape from
it? The question had been answered in one sense by Locke when he dealt so cavalierly with
poetic wit, and a similar answer was given by Blake’s revolutionary friend, Tom Paine, in his
Age of Reason:

I had some turn, and I believe some talent for poetry: but this I rather repressed than
encouraged as leading too much into the field of imagination.

This is a point of view, and it is not new. It is based on the assumption that the creations of
the imagination are mere fantasies and. as such, divorced from life. The problem had troubled
the Elizabethans, and Shakespeare shows his acquaintance with it when he makes Theseus
say:

The poet’s eye, in a fine frenzy rolling.

Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven;
And, as imagination bodies forth
The forms of things unknown, the poet’s pen
Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing
A local habitation and a name

This would have won the approval of an Italian philosopher like Pico della Mirandola, who
thought that the imagination is almost a diseased faculty, and would certainly have welcomed

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Theseus’ association of the poet with the lunatic and the lover. Even those who did not
venture so far as this thought that the creations of the imagination have little to do with actual
life and provide no more than an agreeable escape from it. This was Bacon’s view in The
Advancement of Learning:

The imagination, being not tied to the laws of matter, may at pleasure join that which
nature hath severed and sever that which nature hath joined, and so make unlawful
matches and divorces of things.
Bacon regards this as a harmless and not unpleasant activity; but not more. Though the
Elizabethans excelled almost all other ages in the creation of imaginary worlds, their gravest
thinkers made no great claim for them and were on the whole content that they should do no
more than give a respite from the cares of ordinary life.
Such a position is plainly unsatisfactory for poets who believe that the imagination is a
divine faculty concerned with the central issues of being. Indeed, it must be difficult for
almost any poet to think that what he creates is imaginary in the derogatory sense which
Bacon and his like give to the word. Poets usually believe that their creations are somehow
concerned with reality, and this belief sustains them in their work. Their approach is indeed
not that of the analytical mind, but it is none the less penetrating. They assume that poetry
deals in some sense with truth, though this truth may be different from that of science or
philosophy. That Shakespeare understood the question is clear from what Hippolyta says in
answer to Theseus’ discourse on the imagination:
But all the story of the night told over,
And all their minds transfigur’d so together,
More witnesseth than fancy’s images,
And grows to something of great constancy,
But, howsoever, strange and admirable.
Hippolyta has sense enough to see that a poet’s inventions are not an “airy nothing” but
stand in some relation to reality. In this she presents a view which is in opposition to that of
the Platonist Pico but which has some affinity with that of Guarino, who says that the
statements of poetry are true not literally but symbolically. For Hippolyta the creations of the
imagination are related to living experience and reflect some kind of reality.
The Romantics face this issue squarely and boldly. So far from thinking that the
imagination deals with the non-existent, they insist that it reveals an important kind of truth.
They believe that when it is at work it sees things to which the ordinary intelligence is blind
and that it is intimately connected with a special insight or perception or intuition. Indeed,
imagination and insight are in fact inseparable and form for all practical purposes a single
faculty. Insight both awakes the imagination to work and is in turn sharpened by it when it is
at work. This is the assumption on which the Romantics wrote poetry. It means that, when
their creative gifts are engaged, they are inspired by their sense of the mystery of things to
probe it with a peculiar insight and to shape their discoveries into imaginative forms. Nor is
this process difficult to understand. Most of us, when we use our imaginations, are in the first
place stirred by some alluring puzzle which calls for a solution, and in the second place
enabled by our own creations in the mind to see much that was before dark or unintelligible.
As our fancies take coherent shape, we see more clearly what has puzzled and perplexed us.
This is what the Romantics do. They combine imagination and truth because their creations

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are inspired and controlled by a peculiar insight. Coleridge makes the point conclusively
when he praises Wordsworth:

It was the union of deep feeling with profound thought; the fine balance of truth in
observing, with the imaginative faculty in modifying the objects observed; and above
all the original gift of spreading the tone, the atmosphere, and with it the depth and
height of the ideal world around forms, incidents and situations, of which, for the
common view, customs had bedimmed all the lustre, had dried up the sparkle and the
dew drops.

So long as the imagination works in this way, it cannot fairly be accused of being an escape
from life or of being no more than an agreeable relaxation.
The perception which works so closely with the imagination is not of the kind on which
Locke believed, and the Romantics took pains to dispel any misunderstanding on the point.
Since what mattered to them was an insight into the nature of things, they rejected Locke’s
limitation of perception to physical objects, because it robbed the mind of its most essential
function, which is at the same time to perceive and to create. On this Blake speaks with
prophetic scorn:

Mental things are alone Real; what is call’d Corporeal, Nobody knows of its
Dwelling Place: it is in Fallacy, and its Existence an Imposture. Where is the
Existence Out of Mind or Thought? Where is it but in the Mind of Fool?

Coleridge came to a similar conclusion for not very different reasons:

If the mind be not passive, if it be indeed made in God’s image, and that, too, in the
sublimest sense, the Image of the Creator, there is ground for the suspicion that any
system built on the passiveness of the mind must be false as a system.

When they rejected the sensationalist view of an external world, Blake and Coleridge
prepared the way to restoring the supremacy of the spirit which had been denied by Locke but
was at this time being propounded by German metaphysicians. Blake knew nothing of them,
and his conclusions arose from his own visionary outlook, which could not believe that
matter is in any sense as real as spirit. Coleridge had read Kant and Schelling and found in
them much to support his views, but those views were derived less from them than from his
own instinctive conviction that the world of spirit is the only reality. Because he was first a
poet and only secondly a metaphysician, his conception of a universe of spirit came from his
intense sense of an inner life and from his belief that the imagination, working with intuition,
is more likely than the analytical reason to make discoveries on matters which really concern
us.
In rejecting Locke’s and Newton’s explanations of the visible world, the Romantics
obeyed an inner call to explore more fully the world of spirit. In different ways each of them
believed in an order of things which is not that which we see and know, and this was the goal
of their passionate search. They wished to penetrate to an abiding reality, to explore its
mysteries, and by this to understand more clearly what life means and what it is worth. They

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were convinced that, though visible things are the instruments by which we find this reality,
they are not everything and have indeed little significance unless they are related to some
embracing and sustaining power. Nor is it hard to see what this means. Most of us feel that a
physical universe is not enough and demand some scheme which will explain why our beliefs
and convictions are valid and why in an apparently mechanistic order we have scales of
values for which no mechanism can account. Locke and Newton explain what the sensible
world is, but not what it is worth. Indeed, in explaining mental judgements by physical
processes they destroy their validity, since the only assurance for the truth of our judgements
is the existence of an objective truth which cannot be determined by a causal, subjective
process. Such systems embody a spirit of negation, because in trying to explain our belief in
the good or the holy or the beautiful they succeed only in explaining it away. That is why
Blake dismissed atomic physicists and their like as men who try in vain to destroy the divine
light which alone gives meaning to life, and proclaimed that in its presence their theories
cease to count:
The Atoms of Democritus
And Newton’s Particles of light
Are sands upon the Red sea shore,
Where Israel’s tents do shine so bright.
The Romantics were concerned with the things of the spirit and hoped that through
imagination and inspired insight they could both understand them and present them in
compelling poetry.
It was this search for an unseen world that awoke the inspiration of the Romantics and
made poets of them. The power of their work comes partly from the driving force of their
desire to grasp these ultimate truths, partly from their exaltation when they thought that they
had found them, unlike their German contemporaries, who were content with the thrills of
Sehnsucht, or longing, and did not care much what the Jenseits, or “beyond,” might be, so
long as it was sufficiently mysterious, the English Romantics pursued their lines of
imaginative enquiry until they found answers which satisfied them. Their aim was to convey
the mystery of things through individual manifestations and thereby to show what it means.
They appeal not to the logical mind but to the complete self, to the whole range of intellectual
faculties, senses, and emotions. Only individual presentations of imaginative experience can
do this. In them we see examples of what cannot be expressed directly in words and can be
conveyed only by hint and suggestion. The powers which Wordsworth saw in nature or
Shelley in love are so enormous that we begin to understand them only when they are
manifested in single, concrete examples. Then, through the single cases, we apprehend some-
thing of what the poet has seen in vision. The essence of the Romantic imagination is that it
fashions shapes which display these unseen forces at work, and there is no other way to
display them, since they resist analysis and description and cannot be presented except in
particular instances.
The apprehension of these spiritual issues is quite different from the scientific
understanding of natural laws or the philosophical grasp of general truths. Such laws and
truths are properly stated in abstract words, but spiritual powers must be introduced through
particular examples, because only then do we see them in their true individuality, indeed,
only when the divine light of the imagination is on them do we begin to understand their
significance and their appeal. That is why Blake is so stern on the view that art deals with
general truths. He has none of Samuel Johnson’s respect for the “grandeur of generality,” and
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would disagree violently with him when he says, “nothing can please many and please long,
but just representation of general nature.” Blake thought quite otherwise:
”To Generalize is to be an Idiot. To Particularize is the Alone Distinction of Merit.
General Knowledges are those Knowledges that Idiots possess.”
”What is Genera! Nature? is there Such a Thing? what is Genera! Knowledge? is there
such a Thing? Speaking All Knowledge is Particular.”
Blake believed this because he lived in the imagination. He knew that nothing had full
significance for him unless it appeared in a particular form. And with this the Romantics in
general agreed. Their art aimed at presenting as forcibly as possible the moments of vision
which give to even the vastest issues the coherence and simplicity of single events. Even in
Kubla Khan, which keeps so many qualities of the dream in which it was born, there is a
highly individual presentation of remote and mysterious experience, which is in fact the
central experience of all creation in its Dionysiac delight and its enraptured ordering of many
elements into an entrancing pattern. Coleridge may not have been fully conscious of what he
was doing when he wrote it, but the experience which he portrays is of the creative mood in
its purest moments, when boundless possibilities seem to open before it. No wonder he felt,
that if he could only realize, all the potentialities of such a moment, he would be like one who
has supped with the gods:
And all should cry. Beware! Beware!
His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.
It was in such experience, remote and strange and beyond the senses, that the Romantics
sought for poetry, and they saw that the only way to convey it to others was in particular
instances and examples.
The invisible powers which sustain the universe work through and in the visible world.
Only by what we see and hear and touch can we be brought into relation with them. Every
poet has to work with the world of the senses, but for the Romantics it was the instrument
which set their visionary powers in action. It affected them at times in such a way that they
seemed to be carried beyond it into a transcendental order of things, but this would never
have happened if they had not looked on the world around them with attentive and loving
eyes. One of the advantages which they gained by their deliverance from abstractions and
general truths was a freedom to use their senses and to look on nature without conventional
prepossessions. More than this, they were all gifted with a high degree of physical sensibility
and sometimes so enthralled by what they saw that it entirely dominated their being. This is
obviously true of Wordsworth and of Keats, who brought back to poetry a keenness of eye
and of ear which it had hardly known since Shakespeare. But it is no less true of Blake and
Coleridge and Shelley. The careful, observing eye which made Blake a cunning craftsman in
line and colour was at work in his poetry, it is true that he was seldom content with mere
description of what he saw, but, when he used description for an ulterior purpose to convey
some vast mystery, his words are exact and vivid and make his symbols shine brightly before
the eye. Though Coleridge found some of his finest inspiration in dreams and trances, he
gave to their details a singular brilliance of outline and character. Though Shelley lived
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among soaring ideas and impalpable abstractions, he was fully at home in the visible world, if
only because it was a mirror of eternity and worthy of attention for that reason. There are
perhaps poets who live entirely in dreams and hardly notice the familiar scene, but the
Romantics are not of their number. Indeed, their strength comes largely from the way in
which they throw a new and magic light on the common face of nature and lure us to look for
some explanation for the irresistible attraction which it exerts. In nature all the Romantic
poets found their initial inspiration. It was not everything to them, but they would have been
nothing without it; for through it they found those exalting moments when they passed from
sight to vision and pierced as they thought, to the secrets of the universe.
Though all the Romantic poets believed in an ulterior reality and based their poetry on it,
they found it in different ways and made different uses of it. They varied in the degree of
importance which they attached to the visible world and in their interpretation of it. At one
extreme is Blake, who held that the imagination is a divine power and that everything real
comes from it. It operates with a given material, which is nature, but Blake believed that a
time would come when nature will disappear and the spirit be free to create without it. While
it is there, man takes his symbols from it and uses them to interpret the unseen. Blake’s true
home was in vision, in what he saw when he gave full liberty to his creative imagination and
transformed sense-data through it. For him the imagination uncovers the reality masked by
visible things. The familiar world gives hints which must be taken and pursued and
developed:
To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in Wild Flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour.
Through visible things Blake reached that transcendent state which he called “eternity”
and felt to create new and living worlds. He was not a mystic striving darkly and laboriously
towards God, but a visionary who could say of himself:
I am in God’s presence night and day,
And he never turns his face away
Of all the Romantics, Blake is the most rigorous in his conception of the imagination.
He could confidently say, “One Power alone makes a Poet: Imagination, The Divine
Vision,”! because for him the imagination creates reality, and this reality is the divine activity
of the self in its unimpeded energy, His attention is turned towards an ideal, spiritual world,
which with all other selves who obey the imagination he helps to build.
Though Blake had a keen eye for the visible world, his special concern was with the
invisible. For him every living thing was symbol of everlasting powers, and it was these
which he wished to grasp and to understand. Since he was a painter with a remarkably
pictorial habit of mind, he described the invisible in the language of the visible, and no doubt
he really saw it with his inner vision. But what he saw was not, so to speak, an alternative to
the given world, but a spiritual order to which the language of physical sight can be applied
only in metaphor. What concerned him most deeply and drew out his strongest powers was
the sense of spiritual reality at work in all living things. For him even the commonest event
might be fraught with lessons and meanings. How much he found can be seen from his
Auguries of Innocence. where in epigrammatic, oracular couplets he displays his sense of the

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intimate relations which exist in reality and bind the worlds of sight and of spirit in a single
whole. His words look simple enough, but every word needs attention, as when he proclaims:
A Robin Red breast in a
Cage Puts all Heaven in Rage.
Blake’s robin redbreast is itself a spiritual thing, not merely a visible bird, but the
powers which such a bird embodies and symbolizes, the free spirit which delights in song and
in all that song implies. Such a spirit must not be repressed, and any repression of it is a sin
against the divine life of the universe. Blake was a visionary who believed that ordinary
things are unsubstantial in themselves and yet rich as symbols of greater realities. He was so
at home in the spirit that he was not troubled by the apparent solidity of matter. He saw
something else: a world of eternal values and living spirits.
Keats had a more passionate love than Blake for the visible world and has too often been
treated as a man who lived for sensuous impressions, but he resembled Blake in his
conviction that ultimate reality is to be found only in the imagination. What it meant to him
can be seen from some lines in “Sleep and Poetry” in which he asks why the imagination has
lost its old power and scope:
Is there so small a range
In the present strength of manhood, that the high
imagination cannot freely fly
As she was wont of old ? prepare her steeds,
Paw up against the light, and do strange deeds
Upon the clouds? Has she not shown us all?
From the clear space of ether, to the small
Breath of new buds unfolding? From the meaning
Of Jove’s large eye-brow, to the tender greening
Of April meadows?
Keats was still a very young man when he wrote this, and perhaps his words are not so
precise as we might like. But it is clear that he saw the imagination as a power which both
creates and reveals, or rather reveals through creating. Keats accepted the works of the
imagination not merely as existing in their own right, but as having a relation to ultimate
reality through the light which they shed on it. This idea he pursued with hard thought until
he saw exactly what it meant, and made it his own because it answered a need in his creative
being.
Through the imagination Keats sought an absolute reality to which a door was opened
by his appreciation of beauty through the senses. When the objects of sense laid their spell
upon him, he was so stirred and exalted that he felt himself transported to another world and
believed that he could almost grasp the universe as a whole. Sight and touch and smell awoke
his imagination to a sphere of being in which he saw vast issues and was at home with them.
Through beauty he felt that he came into the presence of the ultimately real. The more
intensely a beautiful object affected him, the more convinced he was that he had passed
beyond it to something else. In Endymion he says that happiness raises our minds to a
“fellowship with essence” and leaves us “alchemized and free of space” :
Feel we these things? that moment we have stept
Into a sort of oneness, and our state
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 Is like a fleeting spirit’s. But there are
Richer entanglements, enthralments far
More self-destroying, leading by degrees
To the chief intensity.
The beauty of visible things carried Keats into ecstasy, and this was the goal of the
desires, since it explained the extraordinary hold which objects of sense had on him and
justified his wish to pass beyond them to something permanent and universal. Keats’ notion
of this reality- was narrower than Blake’s, and he speaks specifically as a poet, whereas
Blake included in the imagination all activities which create or increase life. Moreover, while
Blake’s imagination is active, Keats suggests that his is largely passive and that his need is to
feel the “chief intensity”. But he is close to Blake in the claims which he makes for the
imagination as something absorbing and exalting which opens the way to an unseen spiritual
order.
Coleridge, too, gave much thought to the imagination and devoted to it some
distinguished chapters of his Biographia Literaria. With him it is not always easy to
disentangle theories which he formed in later life from the assumptions upon which he acted
almost instinctively before his creative faculties began to fail. At times he seems to be still
too aware of the sensationalist philosophy of his youth. From it he inherits a conception of a
world of facts, an “inanimate cold world,” in which “objects, as objects, are essentially fixed
and dead.” But as a poet he transcended this idea, or turned it to an unexpected conclusion.
Just because the external world is like this, the poet’s task is to transform it by the
imagination. Just as “accidents of light and shade” may transmute “a known and familiar
landscape.” so this dead world may be brought to life by the imagination. Coleridge justified
this by a bold paradox :
”Dare I add that genius must act of the feeling that body is but a striving to become mind
that is mind in its essence.”
What really counted with him was his own deep trust in the imagination as something
which gives a shape to life. What this meant to him in practice can be seen from the lines in
Dejection in which he explains that nature lives only in us and that it is we who create all that
matters in her :
Ah! from the soul itself must issue forth
A light, a glory, a fair luminous cloud
Enveloping the Earth—
And from the soul itself must there be sent
A sweet and potent voice, of its own birth,
Of all sweet sounds the life and element!
Coleridge does not go so far as Blake in the claims which he makes for the imagination.
He is still a little hampered by the presence of an external world and feels that in some way
he must conform to it. But when his creative genius is at work, it brushes these hesitations
aside and fashions reality from a shapeless, undifferentiated “given”. In the end he believes
that meaning is found for existence through the exercise of a creative activity which is akin to
that of God.

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 Coleridge advanced no very definite view of the ultimate reality which poetry explores.
If we may judge by Kubla Khan, he seems to have felt, at least in some moods, that the mere
act of creation is itself transcendental and that we need ask for nothing more. But perhaps the
evidence of Kubla Khan should not be pressed too far. Indeed, if we turn to the Ancient
Mariner and Christabel, it seems clear that Coleridge thought that the task of poetry is to
convey the mystery of life. The ambiguous nature of both poems, with their suggestion of an
intermediate state between dreaming and waking, between living people and unearthly spirits,
gives an idea of the kind of subject which stirred Coleridge’s genius to its boldest flights.
Whatever he might think as a philosopher , as a poet he was fascinated by the notion of
unearthly powers at work in the world, and it was their influence which he sought to catch.
Of course, he did not intend to be taken literally, but we cannot help feeling that his
imaginative conception of reality was of something behind human actions which is more
vivid than the familiar world because of its sharper contrasts of good and evil and the more
purposeful way in which it moves. This conception was developed only in poetry, and even
then only in two or three poems. Coleridge seems to have been forced to it by a troubled and
yet exciting apprehension that life is ruled by powers which cannot be fully understood. The
result is a poetry more mysterious than that of any other Romantic, and yet, because it is
based on primary human emotions, singularly poignant and intimate.
Wordsworth certainly agreed with Coleridge in much that he said about the imagination
, especially in the distinction between it and fancy. For him the imagination was the most
important gift that a poet can have, and his arrangement of his own poems shows what he
meant by it. The section which he calls Poems of the Imagination contains poems in which he
united creative power and a special, visionary insight. He agreed with Coleridge that this
activity resembles that of God, It is the divine capacity of the child who fashions his own
little worlds:
For feeling has to him imparted power
That through the growing faculties of sense
Doth like an agent of the one great Mind
Create, creator and receiver both,
Working but in alliance with the works
Which it beholds.
The poet keeps this faculty even in maturity, and through it he is what he is. But
Wordsworth was fully aware that mere creation is not enough, that it must be accompanied
by a special insight. So he explains that the imagination
Is but another name for absolute power
And clearest insight, amplitude of mind,
And Reason in her most exalted mood.
Wordsworth did not go so far as the other Romantics in relegating reason to an inferior
position. He preferred to give a new dignity to the word and to insist that inspired insight is
itself rational.
Wordsworth differs from Coleridge in his conception of the external world. He accepts its
independent existence and insists that the imagination must in some sense conform to it.
Once again he sees the issue illustrated by childhood :
A plastic power
Abode with me; a forming hand, at times
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 Rebellious, acting in a devious mood;
A local spirit of his own, at war
With general tendency, but, for the most,
Subservient strictly to external things
With which it communed.
For Wordsworth the imagination must be subservient to the external world, because that
world is not dead but living and has its own soul, which is, at least in the life that we know,
distinct from the soul of man. Man’s task is to enter into communion with this soul, and
indeed he-can hardly avoid doing so, since from birth onward his life is continuously shaped
by nature, which penetrates his being and influences his thoughts. Wordsworth believed that
he helped to bring this soul of nature closer to man, that he could show
by words
Which speak of nothing more than water we are
how exquisitely the external world is fitted to the individual mind, and the individual mind to
the external world. This, it must be admitted was not to Blake’s taste, and he commented :
“You shall not bring me down to believe such fitting and fitted.” But for Wordsworth this
was right. Nature was the source of his inspiration, and he could not deny to it an existence at
least as powerful as man’s. But since nature lifted him out of himself, he sought for a higher
state in which its soul and the soul of man should be united in a single harmony. Sometimes
he felt that this happened and that through vision he attained an understanding of the oneness
of things.
Though Shelley’s mind moved in a way unlike that of his fellow Romantics, he was no
less attached to the imagination and gave to it no less a place in his theory of poetry. He
understood the creative nature of his work and shows what he thought of it when in
Prometheus Unbound a Spirit sings of the poet:
He will watch from dawn to gloom
The lake-reflected sun illume
The yellow bees in the ivy-bloom.
Nor heed nor see, what things they be;
But from these create he can
Forms more real than living man,
Nurslings of immortality!
Shelley saw that though the poet may hardly notice the visible world, he none the less
uses it as material to create independent beings which have a superior degree of reality. Nor
did he stop at this. He saw that reason must somehow be related to the imagination, and he
decided, in contradistinction to Wordsworth, that its special task is simply to analyse the
given and to act as an instrument for the imagination, which uses its conclusions to create a
synthetic and harmonious whole. He calls poetry “the expression of the Imagination,”
because in it diverse things are brought together in harmony instead of being separated
through analysis. In this he resembles such thinkers as Bacon and Locke, but his conclusion
is quite different from faculty and through it he realizes his noblest powers.
In his Defence of Poetry Shelley controverted the old disparaging view of the
imagination by claiming that the poet has a special kind of knowledge :
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 He not only beholds intensely the present as it is, and discovers those laws according
to which present things ought to be ordered, but he beholds the future in the present,
and his thoughts are the germs of the flower and the fruit of latest time... A poet
participates in the eternal, the infinite, and the one,
For Shelley the poet is also a seer, gifted with a peculiar insight into the nature of reality.
And this reality is a timeless, unchanging, complete order, of which the familiar world is but
a broken reflection. Shelley took Plato’s theory of knowledge and applied it to beauty. For
him the Ideal Forms are a basis not so much of knowing as of that exalted insight which is
ours in the presence of beautiful things. The poet’s task is to uncover this absolute real in its
visible examples and to interpret them through it. It is spiritual in the sense that it includes all
the higher faculties of man and gives meaning to his transient sensations. Shelley-tried to
grasp the whole of things in its essential unity, to show what is real and what is merely
phenomenal, and by doing this to display how the phenomenal depends on the real. For him
the ultimate reality is the eternal mind, and this holds the universe together :
This Whole
Of suns, and worlds, and men, and beasts, and flowers,
With all the silent or tempestuous workings
By which they have been, are, or cease to be,
Is but a vision; - all that it inherits
Are motes of a sick eye, bubbles and dreams;
Thought is its cradle, and its grave, nor less
The future and the past are idle shadows
Of thought’s eternal flight - they have no being
Nought is but that which feels itself to be.
In thought and feeling, in consciousness and spirit, Shelley found reality and gave his
answer to Prospero’s nihilism. He believed that the task of the imagination is to create shapes
by which this reality can be revealed.
The great Romantics, then, agreed that their task was to find through the imagination
some transcendental order which explains the world of appearances and accounts not merely
for the existence of visible things but for the effect which they have on us, for the sudden,
unpredictable beating of the heart in the presence of beauty, for the conviction that what then
moves us cannot be a cheat or an illusion, but must derive its authority from the power which
moves the universe. For them this reality could not but be spiritual, and they provide an
independent illustration of Hegel’s doctrine that nothing is real but spirit. In so far as they
made sweeping statements about the oneness of things, they were metaphysicians, but, unlike
professional metaphysicians, they trusted not in logic but in insight, not in the analytical
reason but in the delighted, inspired soul which in its full nature transcends both the mind and
the emotions. They were, too, in their own way, religious, in their sense of the holiness of
reality and the awe which they felt in its presence. But, so far as their central beliefs were
concerned, they were not orthodox. Blake’s religion denied the existence of God apart from
men; Shelley liked to proclaim that he was an atheist; Keats was uncertain how far to accept
the doctrines of Christianity. Though later both Coleridge and Wordsworth confirmed almost
with enthusiasm, in their most creative days their poetry was founded on a different faith. The
Romantic movement was a prodigious attempt to discover the world of spirit through the

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unaided efforts of the solitary soul. It was a special manifestation of that belief in the worth of
the individual which philosophers and politicians had recently preached to the world.
This bold expedition into the unknown, conducted with a scrupulous sincerity and a
passionate faith, was very far from being an emotional self-indulgence. Each of these poets
was convinced that he could discover something very important and that he possessed in
poetry a key denied to other men. To this task they were prepared to devote themselves, and
in different ways they paid heavily for it, in happiness, in self-confidence, in the very strength
of their creative powers. They were not content to dream their own dreams and to fashion
comforting illusions. They insisted that their creations must be real, not in the narrow sense
that anything of which we can think has some sort of existence, but in the wide sense that
they are examples and embodiments of eternal things which cannot be presented otherwise
than in individual instances. Because the Romantics were poets, they set forth their visions
with the wealth that poetry alone can give, in the concrete, individual form which makes the
universal vivid and significant to the finite mind. They refused to accept the ideas of other
men on trust or to sacrifice imagination to argument. As Blake says of Los,
I must Create a System or be enslav’d by another Man’s.
I will not Reason and Compare: my business is to Create.
The Romantics knew that their business was to create, and through creation to enlighten
the whole sentient and conscious self of man, to wake his imagination to the reality which
lies behind or in familiar things, to rouse him from the deadening routine of custom to a
consciousness of immeasurable distances and unfathomable depths, to make him see that
mere reason is not enough and that what he needs is inspired intuition. They take a wider
view both of man and of poetry than was taken by their staid and rational predecessors of the
eighteenth century, because they believed that it is the whole spiritual nature of man that
counts, and to this they made their challenge and their appeal.

From : C. M. Bowra, The Romantic Imagination, London: Oxford University Press, pp1-24.

8. Suggested Reading
1. Humphry House, Coleridge, University of California: R. Hart Davis, 1962

2. M.H. Abrams edited., English Romantic Poets: Modern Essays in Criticism, New
York : Oxford University Press, 1975.

3. C.M. Bowra, The Romantic Imagination, New York: Oxford University Press, 1961

4. George Watson, Coleridge the Poet, University of Michigan: Barnes and Noble,
1966.

5. Allan Grant, A Preface to Coleridge, University of Michigan: Longman, 1972.

6. Kathleen Coburn edited., Coleridge: A Collection of Critical Essays : Twentieth

Century Views, Englewood Cliffs, N. J. : Prentice Hall, 1967.

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9. Some Questions
1. “Kubla Khan perfectly records a dream - experience and it has no relation to life as
ordinary men and women live it.” Discuss.
2 “Kubla Khan is an ecstatic reverie on the power of the poet.” Discuss.
or
What is Kubla Khan about ? This is, or ought to be, an established fact of criticism :
“Kubla Khan” is a poem about Poetry.” Do you agree with this view ? Give a reasoned
answer.
3. Give a brief appreciation of the poem Kubla Khan.
4. Would you regard Kubla Khan as a fragment ? If not, then show how is it a complete
poem possessing basic units.
5. Discuss the romantic elements in the poem.
1. “I think it is the opinion of many readers of the Ode, that brilliantly successful as most
of it is. as parts, yet it fails to achieve complete artistic unity.” (Humphry House). Do
you agree with this assessment of the Ode. Give a reasoned answer.
2. Write a note on the “mood” of the poet in the Ode and account for it.
3. What attitude of Nature does Coleridge express in the Dejection Ode ? In what way does
this attitude differ from that of Wordsworth and from his own earlier attitude ?
4. Give a brief critical appreciation of Dejection : an Ode.
5a. The Ode “is a psychological analysis as acute as it is tragic, of his own mental,
emotional state viewed throughout in conscious and deliberate contrast with that of his
poet friend, Wordsworth.” (Selincourt). Comment on this statement.
or
5b. Compare and contrast Coleridge’s Dejection Ode and Wordsworth’s Immortality Ode

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 Paper IX – British Romantic Literature
Unit-3

Contents
(a) Lord George Gordon Noel Byron Childe Harold-Canto-III (36-45); K. Ojha
Canto-IV (178-86)

(b) Percy Bysshe Shelley (i) Ode to West Wind K. Ojha

(ii) Ozymandias Ankita Sethi

(c) John Keats–Odes (i) Ode to a Nightingale Mary Samuel

(ii) Ode on a Grecian Urn Ankita Sethi
(iii) Ode to Autumn Mary Samuel

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 Unit-3a

1. Childe Harold-Canto-III (36-45); Canto-IV (178-86)

George Gordon Noel Byron
K. Ojha

1. Introduction
Byron, the poet, born on January 22, 1788 at 16 Holies Street in London, was the son of the
former Scottish heiress, Catherine Gordon of Gight, and the improvident and impecunious
captain (“Mad Jack”) Byron, both families were aristocratic, and were known for deeds of
violence and their tangled fortunes. At the age of twenty- two in 1778 his father had created a
scandal. He fell in love with Lady Carmarthen, whose husband was to be the fifth Duke of
Leeds. The sandal was followed by a divorce by an Act of Parliament. Of the three children
of that marriage only one survived, Augusta (born in 1783), who became the future poet’s
beloved half-sister.
Having squandered £ 23,000 of his second wife Catherine in no time, Captain Byron (the
poet’s father) led a wandering life, dodging creditors and later he left his wife and his son in
financial hardship. The boy Byron had been born with a conventional clubbed foot, “the heel
being turned up and the sole of the foot being turned inwards.” The mother and the son went
to live in Aberdeen. There they lived with a nurse, Agnes, on the mother’s remaining annual
£150.
Young George’s formal education was conventional and rudimentary, but he read
whatever he could lay his hands on- travel histories, and novels and the Bible. He enjoyed
reading the Testament, which he read with his Calvinist nurse. This made him believe in
predestination, the possibility of being doomed by God to eternal punishment.
After the death of the grandson of the ‘Wicked Lord’ Byron in the battle in Corsica on
July 31, 1791, Byron became the ‘heir presumptive’ to the barony. The wicked Lord left “a
tangled mass of legal encumbrances, heavy debts, and ruinous estate for the new master.”
The mother and the son shifted to the gloomy and romantic abbey.
Byron’s life now expanded. He spent holidays in London with his lawyer’s family, the
Hansons, went to Harrow (April 1801 and stayed there until 1805. There he had to fight his
way through taunts at his lameness. He provoked his teachers, neglected his lessons and
became the leader of a faction which opposed the appointment of a new Head-master. His
school friendships were passionate and remained especially strong in memory.
He met his half-sister Augusta sometime in this period and wrote to her to unburden
himself of his growing and impassioned dislike of his mother. He played in the Eton and
Harrow cricket match on August 2, 1805 and was extremely proud of his ability to play the
game despite his lameness and despite his having to have a runner for the match.

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 In October 1805 he entered Trinity College, Cambridge. He indulged himself, spent
lavishly was troubled by money lenders, and he involved himself deeply with other men and
generally amused himself. A homosexual tendency was exhibited throughout his life. He was
very ‘close’ to John Edlestone who died in 1 811. His death gave a sad blow to Byron and
profoundly disturbed him and convinced him that he was a doomed being bringing disaster to
all who came close to him “This violent (though pure) love and passion are expressed in
several verse items in Fugitive Pieces of December
He settled in London, made friends, wrote verse and led a dissipated life. He desired to
escape from London for a “view of the Peloponnesus and a voyage through the
Archipelago....“ (his letter to Dr. Bathe). His “Hours of Idleness was cut to atoms by the
“Edinburgh Review” wrote Byron, it “completely demolished my little fabric of fame. This is
rather scurvy treatment for a Whig review, but politics and poetry are different things, and 1
am no adept in either. 1, therefore, submit in silence” (Lord Byron’s Correspondence edited
by John Murray 1992, his letter to Hobhouse of Feb.27)
Byron could not bear the insult calmly. He wrote a satire which formed the nucleus of
the poem published in 1809 as English Bard and Scotch Reviewers. By 1809 he had more
enemies who became part of the collection. The revised version of Hours of Idleness
appeared as Poems Original and Translated. The collection had five new poems heightening
the nostalgic regret for the passing of boyhood. This collection was adversely criticized by
Clarke, a Cambridge man, in The Satirist. Clarke had always been a vehement critic of
Byron’s verse and when in June appeared a poem. Lord B. to his Bear (that summer Byron
was receiving his M.A. degree) Byron was enraged. He had indeed kept a bear in the college
and had taken it for its exercise on a lead, saying that it was sitting for a fellowship. He was
angry not merely at the ridicule that Clarke poured on him but also at his own failures, the
lack of achievement, because he had fallen in a deep depression and gloom at this time. The
problem was aggravated by his London excesses.
Byron spent almost two years abroad in Spain, Greece and the Near East. Byron
spent his Christmas in Athens and here he finished the first canto of Childe Harold’s
Pilgrimage, which he had started on Oct. 31. He enjoyed his stay. He went to the farthest
point of Attica, and from there he had a clear sight of the ‘Isles of Greece” a vision of such
power and beauty that his imagination was haunted by it all his life. Byron left Athens, its
carnival, its friendly people and There as Merci (who becomes “The maid of Athens) and
went to Turkey.
Or his journey he swam across the Hellspont on May 3, (the feat that legendary Leander
achieved to reach his beloved.), Byron was proud of his success. He celebrated it in a verse.
The verse concludes thus:
But since he cross’d the rapid ride.
According to the doubtful story.
To woo - and—Lord knows what besides,
And swam for Love, as 1 for glory,
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 ”Twere hard to say who fared the best.
Sad mortals! thus the gods still plague you
He lost his labour, I my jest
For he was drown’d’ I ve the ague.
If we compare such a verse with the second canto of Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage
(finished in March), we discover that the natural voice of the verse links it to Byron’s letters
and to the later Byron of Don Juan. Byron’s verses are characterized by his natural voice.
Byron was bored with the limited life in Turkey. In August he returned to Athens and
settled at a Capuchian monastery at the foot of Acropolis. He had a small library also. He
spent his time in Mow life’ studying Italian, writing Hints from Horace, a poem satirizing
contemporary authors. He stayed in Malta for a month, and was in a depressed mood. Mrs.
Spencer Smith’s presence made his life more miserable. He suffered from poor health, fever,
the oppressive heat, fear of creditors in London and the financial chaos.
He returned to England on July 11, a changed man, cosmopolitan, a man of varied
experiences and worldly wisdom, with sun in his bone. For Byron the Mediterranean was ‘the
greatest island’ of his imagination. England greeted him with bad news, Byron abandon Hints
from Horace and concentrate on Childe Harold. His mother had died, his friend Charles was
drowned, and the close friend Edlestone had also died.
With the publication of the first two cantos of Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage Byron became
a prominent personality in England. Fame and notoriety were his all through his, life. ‘He
became the paradoxical Childe Harold-half angel, half devil,’ and everyone wanted to meet
him.
Shelley’s death in 1821 disturbed Byron. To get over his gloom, he rapidly wrote three
more cantos of Don Juan. After a year at Genoa Byron left in July 1823 to help the Greeks in
their struggle for independence from Turkish rule. He died of a fever at Missolonghi, in
western Greece, on April 19, 1824. His body was returned to England. Refused burial in
West Minister Abbey, the remains were deposited in the ancestral vault at Hucknall Torkard
near Newstead Abbey.

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 2. The Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage
(Prescribed Text)
A. CANTO THE THIRD
XXXVI
There sunk the greatest, nor the worst of men,
Whose Spirit, antithetically mixed,
One moment of the mightiest, and again
On little objects with like firmness fixed;
Extreme in all things! hadst thou been betwixt,
Thy throne had still been thine, or never been;
For Daring made thy rise as fall: thou seek’st
Even now to re-assume’ the imperial mien.
And shake again the world, the Thunderer of the scene!
XXXVII
Conqueror and Captive of the Earth art thou!
She trembles at thee still, and thy wild name
Was ne’er more bruited in men’s minds than now
That thou art nothing, save the jest of Fame,
Who wooed thee once, thy Vassal, and became
The flatterer of the fierceness-till thou wert
A God unto thyself; nor less the same
To the astounded kingdoms all inert,
Who deemed thee for a time what’er thou didst assert.
XXVIII
Oh, more or less than man—in high or low—
Battling with nations, flying from the field;
Now making monarch’s necks thy footstool, now
More than thy meanest soldier taught to yield;
An Empire thou couldst crush, command, rebuild.

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 But govern not thy pettiest passion, nor,
However deeply in men’s spirits skilled,
Look through thine own, nor curb the lust of War,
Nor learn that tempted Fate will leave the loftiest Star.
XXXIX
Yet well thy soul hath brooked the turning tide
With that untaught innate philosophy,
Which, be it Wisdom, Coldness, or deep Pride,
Is gall and wormwood to an enemy.
When the whole host of hatred stood hard by,
To watch and mock thee shrinking, thou hast smiled
With a sedate and all-enduring eye;
When Fortune fled her spoiled and favourite child,
He stood unbowed beneath the ills upon him piled.
XL
Sager than in thy fortunes; for in them
Ambition steeled thee on too far to show
That just habitual scorn, which could contemn
Men and their thoughts;’ twas wise to feel, not so
To wear it ever on thy lip and brow,
And spurn the instruments thou wert to use
Till they were turned unto thine overthrow:
’Tis but a worthless world to win or lose;
So hath it proved to thee, and all such lot who choose.
XLI
If, like a tower upon a headlong rock,
Thou hadst been made to stand or fail alone,
Such scorn of man had helped to brave the shock;
But men’s thoughts were the steps, which paved thy throne,
Their admiration thy best weapon shone;

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 The part of Philip’s son was thine-not then
(Unless aside thy purple had been thrown)
Like stern Diagenes to mock at men:
For sceptered Cynics Earth were far too wide a den.
XLII
But Quiet to quick bosoms is a Hell.
And there hath been thy bane: there is a fire
And motion of the Soul, which will not dwell
In its own narrow being, but aspire
Beyond the fitting medium of desire:
And, but once kindled, quenchless evermore.
Preys upon high adventure, nor can tire
Of aught but rest; a fever at the core.
Fatal to him who bears, to all who ever bore.
XLIII
This makes the madmen who have made men mad
By their contagion; Conquerors and Kings,
Founders of sects and systems, to whom add
Sophists, Bards, Statesmen, all unquiet things
Which stir too strongly the soul’s secret springs,
And are themselves the fools to those they fool:
Envied, yet how unenviable! What stings
Are theirs! One breast laid open were a school
Which would unteach Mankind the lust to shine or rule:
XLIV
Their breath is agitation, and their life
A storm whereon they ride, to sink at last.
And yet so nursed and bigoted to strife.
That should their days, surviving perils past,
Melt to calm twilight, they feel overcast

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 With sorrow and supineness, and so die;
Even as a flame unfed, which runs to waste
With its own flickering, or a sword laid by,
Which eats into itself, and rusts ingloriously
XLV
He who ascends to mountain tops, shall find
The loftiest peaks most wrapt in clouds and snow;
He who surpasses or subdues mankind,
Must look down on the hate of those below.
Though high above the Sun of Glory glow,
And far beneath the Earth and Ocean spread,
Round him are icy rocks, and loudly blow
Contending tempests on his naked head,
And thus reward the toils, which to those summits led.

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 B. CANTO : THE FOURTH

CLXXVIII
There is a pleasure in the pathless woods.
There is a rapture on the lonely shore.
There is society, where none intrudes.
By the deep Sea. and Music In its roar:
I love not Man the less, but Nature more,
From these our interviews, in which I steal
From all I may be. or have been before,
To mingle with the Universe, and feel
What I can ne’er express—yet cannot all conceal.
CLXXIX
Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean-Roll!
Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain;
Man marks the earth with ruin—his control
Stops with the shore: upon the watery plain
The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain
A shadow of man’s ravage, save his own.
When, for a moment, like a drop of rain.
He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan
Without a grave-unknelled, uncoffined, and unknown.
CLXXX
His steps are not upon thy paths,—thy fields
Are not a spoil for him—thou dost arise
And shake him from thee; the vile strength he wields
For Earth’s destruction thou dost all despise,
Spurning him from thy bosom to the skies-
And send’st him, shivering in thy playful spray
And howling, to his Gods, where haply lies

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 His petty hope in some near port or bay,
And dashest him again to Earth-there let him lay.
CLXXXI
The armaments which thunder strike the walls
Of rock-build cities, bidding nations quake,
And Monarchs tremble in their Capitals,
The oak Leviathans, whose huge ribs make
Their clay creator the vain title take
Of Lord of thee, and Arbiter of War—
These are thy toys, and, as the snowy flake,
They melt into thy yeast of waves, which mar
Alike the Armada’s pride, or spoil of Trafalgar.
CLXXXII
Thy shores are empires, changed in all save thee—
Assyria-Greece-Rome-Carthage-what are they?
Thy waters washed them power while they were free,
And many a tyrant since; their shores obey
The stranger, slave, or savage; their decay
Has dried up realms to deserts:—not so thou,
Unchangeable save to thy wild waves’ play:
Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow
Such as Creation’s dawn beheld, thou rollest now.
CLXXXIII
Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty’s form
Glasses itself in tempests; in all time,
Calm or convulsed—in breeze, or gale, or storm—
Icing the Pole, or in the torrid clime
Dark-heaving—boundless, endless, and sublime—
The image of Eternity—the throne
Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime

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 The monsters of the deep are made—each Zone
Obeys thee—thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.
CLXXXIV
And I have loved thee, Ocean! And my joy
Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be
Borne, like thy bubbles, onward: From a boy
I wantoned with thy breakers-thy to me
Were a delight; and if the freshening sea
Made them a terror-’t was a pleasing fear,
For 1 was as it were a Child of thee,
And trusted to thy billows far and near,
And laid my hand upon thy name-as I do here.
CLXXXV
My task is done-my song hath ceased-my theme
Has died into an echo; it is fit
The spell should break of this protracted dream
The torch shall be extinguished which hath lit
My midnight lamp-and what is writ, is writ.-
Would it were worthier! But I am not now
That which I have been-and my visions flit
Less palpably before me-and the glow
Which in my Spirit dwelt is fluttering, faint, and low.
IX
Farewell! A word that must be, and hath been-
A sound which makes us linger:—yet farewell
Ye! Who have traced the Pilgrim to the scene
Which is his last—if in your memories dwell
A thought which once was his—if on ye swell
A single recollection—not in vain
He wore his sandal-shoon and scallop-shell;

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 Farewell! With him alone may rest the pain
If such there were-with you. the Moral of his Strain.

3. Canto-III
3.1 Introduction
Stephen Coote in his Byron: The Making of a Myth writes:
The first two cantos of Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage are the records of Byron’s
Grand Tour. They express Byron’s radical views and their narrator and hero
are emotionally very interesting. The word Childe suggests his aristocratic
status. Childe Harold-the character-is a dissolute, satiated and melancholy
peer, a young man in need of the spiritual refreshment a pilgrimage might
provide. Byron’s deliberately archaic language derives from the 16th century
poet Spenser whose nine -line stanza he adopted.
In the first two cantos Byron has tried to project and develop the character of Childe
Harold and the narrator (I) and through their experiences he has described his own
experiences during the Grand Tour. Sometimes it is difficult to separate the narrator, the poet
and Childe Harold as individual characters since there is so much of similarities in their
character.
By temperament Byron was a rebel, was born for opposition. Consequently, he had
joined the Whigs party while he was in London; in the Glorious Revolution of 1688 the
Whigs had defended the rights of the people (in reality their own aristocratic oligarchy)
against the might of the Crown. But by 1790 the Whigs were in decline. The French
Revolution led to a war in Europe and the Tories in England firmly kept Napoleon at bay.
The Whigs-being in opposition-projected themselves as the guardians of Liberty and true
patriots. Byron was impressed by them, because the Whigs, as men of education and
property, tried to befriend the people. To them the ideals of the French Revolution were still a
powerful force.
Apart from being a radical, Byron was also interested in the warfare going on in Europe
particularly in the Spain of the Peninsular war, he became a political poet, who depicted the
horrors of war
3.2 Analysis:Stanzas 36 to 45
Byron’s reactions to the Napoleonic war are recorded in his Childe Harold’s
Pilgrimage and Don Juan,. Byron as a young boy admired Napoleon. Like other lovers of
liberty and people’s freedom he believed that Napoleon would destroy tyranny or despotism
from Europe. People may live in peace and breathe in a free atmosphere. But as he matured
in age. he began to suspect the intentions of Napoleon. Byron became aware of Napoleon’s
plan to control Western Europe as he (Napoleon) had given the throne of Europe to Joseph

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Bonaparte. But when the Spaniards took the initiative themselves, and developed the concept
of guerilla warfare, the French had to leave Sargossa to its rightful inhabitants. Byron was
pleased with the popular revolution and national independence.
Byron did not approve of Wellington, whom the Whigs tacitly supported, becoming the
saviour of Europe. He condemned Wellington in the ninth canto of Don Juan.
Byron started writing the third canto of Child Harold’s Pilgrimage, when he left England
in a state of despondency. His marriage had failed and his name and fame were at its lowest
because of this marriage and his own weaknesses .
His changed attitude to Napoleon is perceptible in Stanza 36-^-5 of the third canto of
Child Harold’s Pilgrimage. Byron travelled across Europe in his leather-bound travelling
coach, modelled on Napoleon, it was filled out with a day-bed, a library and a plate-chest but
he was disheartened to find a Europe which the defeat of Napoleon had profoundly changed.
In the third canto a newly bitter Childe Harold emerges, defiant and sorrowful. He talks
about his pains and fate and comments on the sorrow of Europe, he is a spokesman of liberty.
His words are like lightning. He reflects on the fate of Napoleon. The Childe Harold is the
poet himself.
Byron’s evocation of Napoleon (Stanza 36-45) reveals his ambiguous feelings about his
college days’ hero. He admires Napoleon as the greatest genius of the age, but dislikes him
for his egotism and cruelty. According to Coote “Napoleon is a supreme example of the
Byronic hero a-man vast in many of his passions, a giant of conflicting emotions which drive
him to the edges of the world,” By the time these lines were written Napoleon was defeated,
captured and imprisoned in St. Helena.
In these stanzas Byron describes Napoleon’s “essential greatness with manifest reference
to his own personality, career, and attributes his final downfall to the peculiar constitution of
his genius and temper.”
In Stanza XXXVI (36) Byron pays homage to Napoleon. He considers him the greatest
man who has fallen and has been arrested. Napoleon’s character or spirit combined in itself
two diametrically opposing traits. He was the greatest man, for he fought for the liberation of
people from cruel rulers, defeated many nations (monarchs) and tried to bring liberty to the
common suffering oppressed human beings. But he was also the worst of man because he
was over-ambitious and a tyrant. ‘Extremes’ combined in his personality. He was the
mightiest-the most powerful for a moment, and at the other he indulged in ‘evils’. Both
goodness and evil were firmly fixed in him. It is because of these extremes he had to fall, to
sink.
If Napoleon had been a moderate in his views and action, he would not have been
defeated and captured by the despotic monarchs. He would have retained his throne or
position and the world would have praised and admired him forever.

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 Napoleon was bold and courageous, he was mighty and adventurous, he feared nothing.
He could rise because of his daring and his downfall is also the result of this extreme daring.
He created more enemies and less friends. Byron says that even after his defeat and arrest,
people (nations and rulers) are scared of him because he has not yet yielded and still he
would like to re-assume
The imperial mien
And shake the world
The indomitable spirit of Napoleon is both admired and detested. Byron describes him as
the Thunderer of the Scene.
The scene described (there) is that of Waterloo where Napoleon was defeated on 18-6-
1815
The stanza reveals that Byron’s own experiences had quickened his insight and he had
realised that ‘greatness and genius possess no charm against littleness and commonness and
that the “glory of the terrestrial meets with its own reward” ‘(EHC).
When Byron writes “Even now to re-assume the imperial mien”, he is perhaps alluding
to the complaints made by Napoleon that the British authorities did not pay him ‘the imperial
honours “which were paid to him by his own suite”. He expected to be treated with dignity.
Although Napoleon had been defeated by the Duke of Wellington at the battle of
Waterloo and was put under the guardianship of Admiral Sir George Cockburn, Napoleon
remained a threat to the world. His spirit was still ‘free” and ‘daring’ and was ‘the Thunderer
of the scene’ (Waterloo).
Why does Byron use the metaphor the Thurderer of the scene for Napoleon? Byron
stresses the ‘might’ of Napoleon, like a thunder he defeated, crushed and tried to destroy
tyrannical rulers and went on conquering nations after nations, creating havoc and chaos.
The oxymoron continues in the next stanza, where Napoleon is both a conqueror and the
captive of the earth. The earth symbolizes nations and the universe also. The earth shakes
with fear even now when Napoleon is no more a free person. People have not forgotten how
he had “defeated and subdued most of Europe in the Revolutionary wars.” Napoleon’s wild
name still terrorizes nations. It is imprinted in their mind. They are apprehensive, one day he
might break free as he had done from Elba and ravage the world as he is the Thunderer of the
scene’. Note the use of the metaphor-. “Thunder of the scene”
People remember him all the more and ridicule him for this wild man (bold and
unconquerable man) has been imprisoned by the very forces whom he had once crushed
ruthlessly What a paradox!
What a predicament!
Byron’s lines remind us of Pope’s Essay on Man: “Thou art nothing, save the jest of
fame”.

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 Fame seems to mock Napoleon. Fame is personified. Once Fame had wooed him, had
become his slave (Vassal), flattered his ego and boosted his courage. He himself became the
master of all that he surveyed, cared for and listened to none. He considered himself a God,
he defeated nations and kingdoms which completely surrendered to him and people readily
accepted him as their liberator or emperor. The nations, which combined together and
brought about his downfall, were once under his absolute control. He was their God. But now
fame has deserted him. And the man who was once a conqueror is now a captive. Such is the
game of fortune.
Byron is astounded at the complex personality of Napoleon. “Is he more or less than
man” that is the dilemma. He fought nations everywhere on heights, in valleys, and on plains,
sometimes he had to retreat also, but he never yielded.. The relentless battles continued. The
bigger as well as smaller nations were conquered. He showed no respect for the defeated
monarchs or people, he ill-treated them. He was brutish in his behaviour, made ‘monarchs’
necks thy footstool’. Byron condemns Napoleon for his meanness and ruthlessness.
This powerful monarch (Napoleon) became the most detestable person. He could crush
empires, command and rebuild nations, but he could not control his own passions. What a
paradox it was. The most powerful Commander of the world could not control his passions.
He, who believed that he could understand human nature, could not understand himself. He
failed to curb his lust for war, lust for power. He did not realize that fate might be a flatterer
or a vassal only for a short duration of time. Try to tempt Fate, it will take you to great
heights, and then all of a sudden it will forsake you. The truth is that the ‘tempted Fate will
leave the loftiest star’.
Byron is bitter about Napoleon’s overwhelming ambition to become an emperor of the
world and his lust for power and war which made him a mean and cruel man. Napoleon who
emerged as a Liberator of suffering humanity turned out to be a Despot.
Byron appreciates the stoicism of Napoleon in Stanza 39. The soul of Napoleon readily
accepted the ‘turning tide’-the change of fate or Fortune. His innate philosophy has perhaps
enabled him to calmly endure the adverse times. Byron is perhaps thinking of his own fate.
Once he had become a famous poet as well as a well-known personality in England and then
he had to suffer separation from his wife and daughter and his reputation was lost.
The forbearance of Napoleon at the face of adversity is being praised. He is able to
endure every thing because of his inborn philosophy. His calm, which may be a product of
wisdom, coldness or deep prides, is ‘gall and wormwood’ to his enemies. His calmness in the
face of defeat and ridicule perplexes and frightens his enemies. They are unable to penetrate
his mind and thought. Is his calmness a forerunner of the approaching thunder?
When nations not only watched with contempt and jealousy the imprisoned Napoleon,
but also they showered curses and abuses on him, and expressed their elation at his fall,
Napoleon showed no signs of unhappiness or anger, rather, he smiled with “a sedate and all
enduring eye”. Even when Fortune, who had once loved and nourished him so tenderly,

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deserted him, he was left alone, unprotected, he patiently bore all the insults, humiliations and
remained unbowed.
The change of ‘ fortune’ and ‘Fate’ made him a sager man. When he was riding the crust
of success and fortune favourably smiled on him, he was a ‘blind’ man-he could not see his
own weaknesses, and became an egoist, and a tyrant. Now when Fortune has forsaken him,
he has become a sager person. Ambition had steeled his heart-humane feelings were
completely crushed. And he did not realise that contempt for people recoils on the hater-it
contaminates human beings, and their thoughts. Even if Napoleon had just (right; proper)
contempt for some persons or nations, he ought not to have exhibited his feelings in words
and actions. He should have spurned the weapons which enabled him to defeat nations and
crush people. He should not have forgotten the maxim “You get back what you do to others”,
or “As you saw, so shall you reap”.
The weapons, which helped him to fulfil his ambition, were ultimately used against him.
The monarchs, who he had once defeated, later joined hands, and have captivated him now.
Byron exhorts Napoleon-this world is not worth conquering-it is a useless world. In this
world it hardly matters if he wins or loses. This truth was realized by those who in the past
like Napoleon had tried to vanquish nations and people and become monarchs of the
universe. Even Napoleon has learnt this bitter lesson.
Byron continues to address Napoleon in the next stanza. If today Napoleon has been
completely alienated from his supporters and has been compelled to stand or fall like a tower
on a headlong rock, he himself is responsible for his predicament. He had been contemptuous
of people who had once admired him and had great expectations from him. He betrayed those
people who craved for liberty and worshipped him as a liberator. It is these fighters for
freedom, whose respect, admiration and thoughts had paved his way to success and brought
fame to him.
Napoleon is compared with Alexander the great-the son of Philip of Macedon-Alexander
was very ambitious. He conquered Asia. Since Napoleon like Alexander, had become a king
and was on a conquering streak, he could not afford ‘to mock at all men’. It is unfortune that
those who wear the purple gown or sceptre are so much enamoured of power that they stop
caring for the other human beings and want to conquer the whole universe. They are so crazy
for power that to them the whole earth is a den. They become cruel and avaricious and treat
others with contempt.
So long as a man wears the royal dress, he can’t mock at all men-that is he cannot realise
that winning or losing has no meaning. Only when he gives up all ambition and authority he
can, like Diogenes, distrust human pretensions to nobility and honesty.
According to Byron “the great error of Napoleon,’ if we have writ our annals true’, was a
continued obtrusion on mankind of his want of all community feeling for or with them;
perhaps more offensive to human vanity than the active cruelty of more trembling and
suspicious tyranny.”
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 In this stanza Byron condemns Napoleon, for being over ambitious and ruthless. The
cause of his rise and fall was his lust for power and contempt for humanity but this contempt
was not that of stern philosopher Diogenes who ridiculed human pretensions to nobility or
honesty. Napoleon was a pretentious monarch and so he stood all alone like a tower on a
headlong rock and fell down, could not brave the shock-the hatred of people and nations.
Note the use of oxymoron here. Quietness, which Diogenes hinted at is not always good.
Calmness-peace-is at times counter productive-the human beings who are ambitious, who
have ‘fire’ within, can not live peacefully for to them peace is a hell-like existence-it is
stifling, it is death.
Note, Quiet is opposed to Hell but here quiet is also associated with quick bosom. Byron
links quiet with quick (calmness and living force) and thus associates it with life-me
oxymoronic relationship has been highlighted. Since quietness to a living soul is hellish and
so it is ‘a poison’s also. Napoleon could not live peacefully because-his was a quick bosom—
and so quietness was a poison for him-death for him.
Napoleon possessed ‘power of energetic life’-a fire lived in his soul, it was a moving
fire. According to Byron this living fire-can not be controlled ‘in a narrow cage-it aspires,
comes out in the form of ambition. Once the ambition or desire is aroused, the fire is kindled,
it goes on spreading, it can’t be controlled or extinguished. The ambitious man moves from
one adventure to another, unstopped, continually, does not get tired or exhausted in the sense
that he is always restless. And the ‘desire’ or ambition is also like a fever which is fatal to the
ambitious and adventurous being, in the past also ambitious people had seen their fall, and
now Napoleon is its victim.
The quick “bosom is consumed’ by the fire of his desire and consequently he is
associated with disease referred to as preys, fever and fated.
Napoleon is presented as a diseased person, burning with the fire of ambitious desire,
preying upon high adventure and suffering ‘from fever at the core Fatal to him’.
Metaphorically the fire (of ambition) consumes the ambitious person ultimately. In the, next
stanza he is declared to be a mad man. The quick bosom is one to whom quietness is hell and
bane. Those who have burning ambitions which impel than to prey upon others, and who
continuously and feverishly work to achieve their goals and can not rest, are mad men. They
have contagious influence on all those who come in contact with them. Others are incited and
excited by them and they madly follow these mad men. But ironically it is these mad men
with ambitious fire who are conquerors’ kings, founders of sects and systems (including
Sophists. Bards, statemen etc.). All these human beings are the unquiet things which can not
rest or relax or be quiet, rather the unquietness stirs the soul’s secret springs. The unquiet
bosoms change the face of the earth-they have followers, who blindly believe them. Byron is
critical of all sects, beliefs and all ambitious beings who force others to accept and believe
them. They try to befool their followers but later they are paid in their own coin. They are
ultimately duped by those who they had befooled. Such persons are envied by others since

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others can’t reach their height and yet these successful people are unenviable. They deserve
their positions for they have worked hard for it. How do they breast others-how do they hurt
and harm others? They are crazy for power. It would have been a blessing if one honest
(person-who would have been on open school) could have taught human beings not to lust to
shine or rule. If one honest soul had been able to unteach human beings the lust for fame or
authority, the world would have become a better place to live in. ;
Byron is not condemning the men of fire for these men have also contributed to the
happiness of mankind. Napoleon may be a mad man who makes others mad but the mad men
of fire have a brighter side also-they not only cause ‘contagion’ but also stir’ (inspire,
stimulate) the soul’s secret springs.
Byron like Shelley was a radical and a believer in Prometheus who he considered the
creator of the world, man and civilization. In stanzas 42 to 45 he is talking about Prometheus-
like quick bosoms, who can reform the world.
It is noteworthy that in these stanzas the tiresome ‘rest’ (42st) of ‘life’ leads to madness
(43st) and becomes an agitation (44st.). The life of these Prometheuses is a storm and their
breath is an agitation. Here we are reminded of Shelley’s ‘Ode to the West Wind’. The storm
in Shelley’s poem is a symbol of revolutionary changes leading to a Utopia. Like Prometheus
these ‘quick bosoms’ create agitation with their breath and their life is stormy. Like a storm
they rise, causing destruction of the unwanted, and ultimately they peter away like a storm,
they ‘sink’. Byron has skillfully used metaphors and similes in these stanzas.
These souls are nourished and nursed by ‘strife’ and are so much rebellious that if they
are able to survive perils and if calmness dawns upon them like a twilight, they can not feel
happy ‘They feel overcast/With sorrow and supineness, and so die’. ‘Calmness’ kills them.
The Promethean fire is described as ‘a flame unfed’-when this fire, in their soul does not get
an outlet to spread, it remains ‘unfed’ and “runs to waste/With its own flickerings.’ The
ambitious dreamers and persons are like the ‘unfed fire” and also like a sword which rusts if
it is not used. The Prometheus-like beings cannot rest-they must remain agitated and stormy,
if they are not able to prey on others, enlighten others and reach the Pinnacle of success, they
are wasted like an unfed fire and an unused sword. The Promethean man is not a free man-he
is ruled by his quick bosom.
What is the ultimate fate of Prometheus. Because of his unquenchable energy he is able
to ascend the mountain tops (reach the highest position) and is able to perceive or realise that
the top most peaks are surrounded by clouds and snow. It is again this energy which enables
him to surpass or subdue mankind-once he is able to conqueror them, reach the highest
position (emperor) he realizes, when he looks down on others, how deeply he is hated. The
man on the top of a mountain/ position has “Clouds’ and ‘snow’ as his friends, and
‘Contempt’ of humanity as his subjects. The sun of glory may shine up on his head but below
him are spread the earth and ocean; he himself is in a sad predicament-’round’ him are icy
rocks and ‘loudly’ blowing contending tempests-there is no crown on his head- he is a lonely

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being who has to face the hatred of his enemies and contempt of human beings. This is the
reward of ambitious beings toils-they reach the summit but they remain ‘lonely’.
These stanzas discuss the achievements and failures of Napoleon, but in the last four or
five stanzas Byron seems to deviate from his basic theme and to contemplate on the fate of a
Promethean character in general. Prometheus the mythical character was a source of
inspiration to the radicals like Shelley and Byron.
A close reading of these stanzas reveals that when Byron refers to Napoleon he seems to
be indulging in ‘self analysis’. Napoleon breathed agitation, he incited people to fight, and
led a stormy life, he was “nursed” by strife, that is. he was trained to be always in ‘war’
which would ultimately lead to his ruin, to his death”. He was also ‘bigoted by strife,
implying that he was a thoughtless killer.
Byron has shown the consequences of ruthlessness in stanza 45.
The lines are remarkable for they present the paradoxical situation in the life of
Napoleon. Byron is not merely assessing the character and achievements of Napoleon, he is
also contemplating on the lot of ambitious, quick-bosomed human beings, who cannot live
peacefully. They are ‘thunderers’ ‘madmen’, burning with the fire of ambition and
consequently they cannot control the ‘fire’ and once this fire gets ventilation they go on
conquering nations, bringing about changes in the universe and ultimately they are consumed
by the bare of audition.
Their agitated breath breathes in new life in people, they simply follow them blindly,
accept what they are taught. But when these ambitious beings become blind to their own
follies, and are flattered by Fate or/and become “gods’ -then their doom approaches them.
They stand like a tower headlong on a steep mountain top, completely cut off from humanity
and beauties of nature, they are faced with their steep downfall. They themselves are
responsible for their fall. But then the truth is that very often these quick bosomed-men create
a new work! of joy.
Napoleon fell from a height of glory and success because his character was a
combination of extremes. Had he been able to see his weakness-lust for power and lust for
war-he may not have lost the love and admiration of people. Byron does not confound
Napoleon, he also appreciates his stoicism shown at the time of defeat not to yield to
humiliation. These stanzas emphasize the paradoxical existence of great men, who reach the
‘top of mountain’ because of their “ruthless ambition” and then they meet their end-fall
headlong down the pinnacle of success.

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4. Canto-IV
4.1 Introduction
In the Dedication to John Hobhouse (Canto IV of Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage) Byron says
that Canto IV is “the longest, the most thoughtful and comprehensive of my compositions”.
“There is less of the Pilgrim”. The author speaks “in his own voice”. The Canto touches upon
“the present state” of Italy, “Italian literature and perhaps of manners’.
Byron concludes his Childe Harold with stanzas describing Nature and the Ocean. In
stanza 177 Byron yearns for the Desert which would be his dwelling place and in the
prescribed stanzas his loneliness is highlighted with the description of the “Power, loneliness
and changefulness of the Ocean”. The stanzas also hint at a change in the life of Byron-he
was now a different person, no more haunted by the bitter memories of his personal life.
4.2 Analysis: Stanzas 178-186
The speaker derives immense pleasure in meandering through the pathless woods (not
inhabited or trampled by man) and is filled with ecstatic joy ‘in the lonely shore’. In the first
four lines Byron very deftly establishes the loneliness and quietness of the sea-shore and
surrounding woods with the use of the words Pathless woods, lonely shore, where none
intrudes. In this lonely, uninhabited and natural surrounding, the speaker is filled with great
pleasure and rapture. The lonely shore, the pathless woods and the deep sea excite him and
his personal loneliness is completely forgotten for the deep sea is his society, he can hear
music in its roar. The Ocean is a friend, a companion to him. The lines remind us of
Wordsworth’s Tintern Abbey and Arnold’s Dover Beach. Wordsworth hears the still music
of humanity in nature, Arnold finds a melancholic note in the music of the waves flinging
pebbles at the rocky beach and makes him think of the sad plight of human beings. Byron
does not associate man’s unhappy lot with the rhythmic music of the sea. He makes it clear
that he does not emphasize the solitude of the natural surrounding because he dislikes the
company of man. He loves Man but he loves Nature more. “This is a very unusual sentiment
for Byron” who was fond of human company.
He often retires to this secluded place to get away from the ‘interviews’ of human beings
and to have communion with nature, particular!}’ with the sea, and to listen to its music. He
loves ‘loneliness’ in Nature for it makes him forget himself and his bitter experiences and
provides him an opportunity ‘to mingle with the universe’. The lines remind us of his Epistle
to Augusta where he expresses his desire to mingle with the quiet of the sky. He. wants to
have a rapport with nature and the pleasure which he will have with this mingling with nature
cannot be concealed and yet it can not be described. The immense pleasure can be felt and
experienced but can not be expressed in words.
The speaker addresses the ocean and exhorts it to roll on. It is a deep and dark blue
ocean. The rolling of the ocean makes the speaker reflect on the cruelty of man. He contrasts
nature with man. Although ten thousand fleets (war ships) move over the ocean-float on the
ocean-sweep over it but the waves continue to move-roll on-without any hesitation or
obstruction. Man is not able to control or rule the movement of the ocean water. He is unable
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to make any dent in it. Man conquers or occupies the land and marks it with ruins, destroys
the beauty of the earth and covers it with all sorts of constructions, which the speaker refers
to as ruins. Man’s control stops with the shore, the Ocean is unconquerable. The wrecks
found in the water are caused by the Ocean itself. No remains of man’s destructiveness are to
be found. If any ruin is there, it is of man himself—when a man is drowned he drops in the
water of the Ocean like a drop of rain, he sinks into the deep sea covered with bubbling groan
of its water. He remains without a grave (tomb), no bells ring for him, he is not wrapped in a
coffin and remains unknown and unsung. Such a man remains unwept. Man can not make
way in the Ocean-he cannot walk on its waves nor can he destroy the fields of the Ocean. In
no way he can possess it.
Byron during his journey to the European countries observed the destruction caused by
wars (in those days man}’ European countries were engaged in war. In the prescribed stanza
he has beautifully presented man’s predicament. Man uses all his power to capture land on
the Earth. In this process of conquering The World (nations or pieces of land) he goes on
ruining ‘life’ on Earth is, transforming the shape and face of the natural surroundings. The
landscape is doited with the ruins caused by man’s lust for power. But what happens when
man tries to subdue the mighty ocean ? Is he able to establish his superiority over it ? Man
fails to step on the waters of the Ocean (Land is static but the Ocean is mobile, has its power)
Man can neither pave roads in the Ocean, nor can he spot its fields. The Ocean detests man’s
evil destructive power. When he tries to conquer if the waves of the Ocean contemptuous Ty
left him up from its bosom, toss him up in the sky (like a ball or toy). He shivers with fear
and screams loudly to him gods for protection and yearns to reach safely in some near by port
or bay. The vain man is dashed back to earth, on the shares of a bay and there he lies, shorn
off all his might and dignity. His identity and entity are completely annihilated. Man cannot
possess the Ocean.
Note Byron has asked “lay” for Tie’ to rhyme with bay. There is no deliberate
grammatical error. All through the stanzas the poet has addressed the Ocean as ‘thy’, ‘thou’.
The has is used personification.
If has already been mentioned that Byron ridicules man for his vanity (line 2 stanza 179)-
the fleets which move on the waters of the Ocean are easily destroyed. Man is filled with the
pride to sail warships-he believes that he has conquered nature that is the Ocean but Byron
exhibits the vanity of man in stanza 180. The battleships are used to conquer nations.
Camions are shot at cities and buildings from these ships. These cannons strike the walls of
the rock built cities (cities built on the rocks or surrounded by the rocks or made of rocks or it
may mean very strong palaces and powerful states) like thunder and their thunderous sound
shake nations (common people) as well as monarchs with fear. The monarchs living in their
capitals are terrified. The huge battle-ships are made of oak. (very strong wood) Byron
describes them as the oak Leviathans (seas beasts or monsters)—these huge ships with their
wooden planks (huge ribs) empower the caption of the fleet. He is designated as the Lord of
the Oceans and Arbiter of Man. (Clay creator, a Biblical reference that man is made of clay).
He navigates them and thus thinks that he is the Lord of the Seas Oceans. But the captain and
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the crew and the fleets of ships are mere toys of the Oceans Byron is satirical here. The huge
powerful ships are made by man who himself is made of clay, created by god. The irony is
that this clay-created being prides himself thinking thank he is all powerful and can conquer
everything. With the help of a navy a nation may capture another nation. But naval officer
and his men are powerless before the might of the ocean. In seconds all these (the fleet with
the crew) are destroyed by the tempestuous Ocean. Like the snowy flake they are completely
destroyed and ‘melt’ into the yeast of waves, (the Spanish Armada attacking England in 1588
and the French Navy of Trafalgar in 1805 were both severely damaged by storms before they
could engage in battle.)
Byron takes us back to the past history of Europe. He raises a question what has
happened to the ancient Empires such as Assyria, Greece, Rome, Carthage situated on the
shores of the ocean. The waters of the ocean once washed these powerful empires, when were
free. Remember Byron is addressing the Mediterranean sea in these stanza, on its shores were
situated the great empires of the world-(the Assyrian the Persian, the Grecian and the
Roman). Later these empires were ruled by tyrants/enemies of liberty. Now these countries
are occupied by strangers, slaves or savages-the old civilizations have disappeared-the
empires have decayed, and they have lost all their glory and have become deserts. But the
Ocean/sea is still unchanged. The sea is both unconquerable and unchangeable-it looks
different only when the waves play the stormy game. During the tempests the sea looks
frightening and unusual.
Time brings about changes in the whole created world. Old age overpowers man. But no
change (wrinkles) occurs on the blue (azure) brow of the ocean. The Ocean remains young or
youthful for ever. Since the creation it has been continuously roiling on.
The ocean is the glorious mirror, it reflects the divine glory. The Almighty’s form or
shape is reflected or is present in the Ocean, where we can find the presence of the Eternity.
The sight of the Ocean soothes the agitated poet, makes him forget his bitter experiences
and thrills him. It also reminds him of the greed and vanity of man. Man who claims to be the
master of all that he surveys and who tries to dominate nature and the earth is ultimately
defeated by the mighty Ocean.
‘The Ocean is the glorious mirror’ which reflects the Almighty’s absolute power. This
power is visible in its multi-splendored form-in breeze (gentle and calm), gale (convulsing) or
storm. It freezes the poles (poles are covered with snow). The Almighty’s presence can be
felt in the torrid climate-where the sky and the ocean appear dark, the waves heave with
force-the ocean seems limitless and sublime. The ocean is the image of Eternity. It is
boundless, endless and sublime-it has no beginning and no end, has no limits-it is all
pervasive. In fact to Byron it is the throne of the invisible power (God) In the slimy surface of
the ocean live great monsters-the impact of the ocean is felt all around, in all directions-each
zone is compelled to obey this all powerful, ever present and all pervasive Ocean-the
incarnation of Divinity. It is frightening, and fathomless and it exerts its authority effortlessly.

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 In the next stanza Byron/the speaker talks about himself. He is in a nostalgic mood. He
has been in love with ocean since his childhood. Often as a young boy Byron used to swim in
the ocean-he played on the L breast’ of the sea-and allowed the waves to carry him like the
bubbles in any direction. As a boy he played with its waves. And he was delighted to be with
the sea. In these stanzas the ocean has been personified. At that stage of his life the poet had
complete trust in the ocean. Sometimes he was terrified (perhaps when there was a tempest)
and yet he was confident that he would be protected and saved. His was a pleasing fear. Note
how Byron juxtaposes opposite ideas here. He thought that “he were a child of thee-there was
a complete faith in ocean (God)’. Perhaps there is a reference to Christ and his father God. As
a young boy Byron enjoyed swimming in the sea and completely surrendered himself to the
waves. Once again the speaker surrenders to the ocean-the Mediterranean sea. Remember
Byron is not talking about one particular sea or ocean. He is referring to the ocean (as one
unit), ocean is a God, an image of Eternity and the throne of the Almighty.
The ocean provides him contentment. He is able to forget all the bitter experiences of life
and accept the authority of the Almighty.
Then Byron concludes his work (the poem). The poet says that Childe Harold has
attained his goal, his. (The poet’s) task is done he has reached the Pilgrimage. After braving
the storm of life, the pilgrim has reached his God-has got enlightenment. And so the song has
stopped. The song has been like a dream-he was” spelled by it-now he is awake. The dream is
gone. He has worked hard to describe this dream-to describe his pilgrimage-Childe Harold’s
Pilgrimage-journey of life. So there is no need to burn midnight light. Whatever has been
written has been written. None can change it whether life’s journey could have been worthier,
none can say. Byron believed in fate-what is decided, cannot be changed.
Life is like a lamp-it burns and then gradually the light is gone. There is an end. The
speaker has described his life’s journey-not merely his sea voyage but also his experiences in
life, his faults, his achievements, his visions etc. Now the lamp is dying. He has acquired a
new light. And the vision, he has described in this work is fleeting away. And the glow which
guided’ and enlightened his spirit is fluttering, is growing faint and low. Ami the pilgrimage
is over.
The description of the ocean is significant. Byron not merely describes a real ocean, but
also gives it a symbolic meaning. The ocean becomes an image of Eternity and before this
Almighty the mighty force of man is nothing. The mightiest souls (human beings) are easily
crushed and destroyed. If you surrender yourself to this Force, you will be happy and
protected but if you wish to go against the currents, you are complete!}’ destroyed.
Nature remains unchanged only man is changeable. Man is mortal. Time and Divine
laws are eternal.
The Ocean is also a symbol of the eternal time and of eternal law of nature and God.
Whatever happens to any human being is something destined. One must accept the dictates of
fate. Idealism is a-dream one must reciprocate to reality.

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 Unit-3b

(i) Ode to a West Wind

(ii) Ozymandias
Percy Bysshe Shelley

(i) Ode to West Wind

K. Ojha

1. Shelley: Life and Works

P.B. Shelley was born on August 4,1792 at Horsham in Sussex. He was the eldest son of a
country squire. Sir Timothy Shelley, a man of ancient and distinguished race. John Drink
water in his The Outline of Literature writes:
From the first, the boy beautiful as an angel and as tender-hearted, trembling alive
in every fiber, strung like a wind-harp to the breath of every breeze, seemed like a
being from another sphere. The sight of pain or sorrow turned him sick with rage
and pity.
Shelley was the darling of his parents and his grand-father Sir Bysshe Shelley, a
fabulously rich landlord, and a gentleman. All of them had great expectations from the young
boy. His father started teaching him at an early age and his mother read poetry to him. He
also began to study Latin from the curate a Welshman named Evan Edwards. Shelley became
an exceedingly good scholar. His parents wanted him to follow his father’s footsteps as a
politician, as a man of time, as a landowner and also as a practical agriculturist in short, as a
capable Sussex squire.
Shelley wrote pamphlets in support of the Irish cause. He was tremendously influenced
by Godwin’s political thought. He read avidly and became a radical, who believed that all
religious, social, political and cultural institutions were redundant and corrupt. They crushed
man’s individuality and liberty. Society needed an overhauling. He continued to write
pamphlets against oppressive laws and suffocating social values. His ideas were not
acceptable to the conservative authorities, and created problems for the Shelleys. ‘Law-
Keepers’ were after him. He could not live in peace. His family life was made miserable by
his wife, the pretty, empty-headed Harriet, and dominating sister-in-law Eliza. Shelley and
Harriet separated. Harriet remarried but later became morbid and insane and committed
suicide. Shelley married Mary, Godwin’s daughter from his first wife. His children from
Harriet were taken away by law and were entrusted to Harriet’s father. Harriet’s death and
then the separation from his children were great blows to Shelley.
Shelley was utterly out of sympathy with the England of his days-he could not live
within the constraints laid down by the conventional thinkers and administrators in learning,

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religion and morality. He wrote articles, pamphlets, and poems criiticizing and condemning
social and political laws, striving at reforming the society, creating a Utopian world, based on
liberty, fraternity, love and equality, a world where there will be no oppression, no exploiter,
no cares and no anxieties. His unorthodox views were not acceptable and he created hostility
everywhere. Before settling in Italy, Shelley visited Naples and travelled in the Italian lakes.
He described his journey in his letters to Peacock. These letters are ‘the most perfect
specimen of descriptive prose in the English language’. (Mr. Symonds) At Venice he met
Byron. In the splendid poem Julian and Maddalo (who are actually Shelley and Byron) he
threw a vivid light upon his brother-poet. The poem is remarkable for the poetical treatment
of ordinary things. Prometheus Unbound and his great tragedy The Cenci were published in
1819. “In sheer lyric power and splendour–Prometheus Unbound-has no parallel in any
language.” Before the publication of Prometheus Unbound a number of poems were written
by Shelley. They were Lines written among the Euganean Hills, The Mask of Anarchy. Peter
Bell the Third, Popular songs, Rosalind and Helen. “These poems directly or overtly redefine
and reassert Utopian ideals despite accumulating disappointments, personal and political’. In
Rosalind and Helen. Shelley uses ‘nature’ as an ethical standard to highlight the antagonism
between the town and the country and the corrupt urban world’; ‘nature’ in these poems is
presented as ‘regenerative power capable of healing the damaged spirit.’
In the year following 1821, Keats died and Shelley wrote the great elegy- Adonais.
Adonais not only mourns the death of Keats but also establishes the supremacy of death
which liberates human soul from chains of sufferings and humiliation. Adonais was followed
by Hellas which was inspired by the keen interest Shelley took in the then raging war of
Greek independence, and The Defence of Poetry an essay dealing with Shelley’s concept of
poetry and the role of the poets.
In 1822 the Shelleys, with their friends Mr. and Mrs. Williams, spent the summer at
Lerici, on the Gulf of Genoa. Shelly enjoyed yatching in his yatch Don Juan. He also began
writing The Triumph of Life and a tragedy, Charles I, which he could not complete.
Accompanied by Mr. Williams and a sailor Shelley set sail for Lerici. On his way back to
Leghorn, on July 7 a great storm arose and the yatch was capsized. After eleven days the
poet’s body was found near Via Reggio and later the bodies of his companions. After
cremation, the poet’s ashes were buried in the Protestant Cemetery at Rome, so beautifully
described by himself in Adonais as the burial place of Keats, and his own son, William.
Agnes Ramsey writes: though he was snatched from life “while his powers were yet in their
spring freshness, Shelley holds a very high place among English poets”. “His poetical
productiveness’”. says Mr. Stopford Brooke, “would have been admirable as the result of a
long life, as the work, in the main, of little more than five years it is one of the greatest
marvels of the human mind”. Not only is he, as Swinburne has said, “the master singer’ but
he stands unequalled in the 19th century in his great dramatic power, as in the exquisite
beauty and charm of his poems on familiar subjects.”He was not only the “most divine” of
our poets, living in an ethereal and spiritual world made real to him by the powerful grasp of
a most vivid imagination, but he was at the same time the true hearted philanthropist, deeply
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interested in all that affected his fellow men, and in their interests of waging war on all
conventional shams that clouded truth.’
2. Ode to the West Wind (The Poem)
“In Shelley’s notebook, presented by Sir John Shelley-Rolls to the Bodleian Library, this Ode
begins under the simple heading ‘October 2’. His own published note on it amounts to an
instance of his success as a weather-prophet (and Mary She! ley thought him a good one)
with a word on marine botany. In the draft the much-quoted final line was in the form of an
assertion; as a question it is far superior. If any literary model was in Shelley’s mind as he
wrote, it will have been Coleridge’s Ode on the Departing Year, which ‘however’ is largely
inspired by the political upheavals of Europe. Shelley’s is so much of a personal ‘confession’
that even the withered leaves round him are compared with his own early grey hairs.”
O WILD West Wind, thou breath of Autumn’s being,
Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead
Are driven like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing,
Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red,
Pestilence-stricken multitudes: O thou,
Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed
The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low,
Each like a corpse within its grave, until
Thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow
Her clarion o ‘er the dreaming earth, and fill
(Driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air)
With living hues and odours plain and hill:
Wild Spirit, which art moving everywhere;
Destroyer and preserver; hear, oh, hear!
Thou on whose stream, mid the steep sky’s commotion,
Loose clouds like earth’s decaying leaves are shed,
Shook from the tangled boughs of Heaven mid Ocean,
Angels of rain and lightning: there are spread
On the blue surface of thine: aery surge,
Like the bright hair uplifted from me head
Of some fierce Maenad, even from the dim verge

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Of the horizon to the Zenith’s height,
The locks of the approaching storm. Thou dirge
Of the dying year, to which this closing night
Will be the dome of a vast sepulcher,
Vaulted with all thy congregated might
Of vapours, from whose solid atmosphere
Black rain, and fire, and hail will burst: oh, hear!
Thou who didst waken from his summer dreams
The blue Mediterranean, where he lay,
Lulled by the coil of his crystalline streams,
Beside a pumice isle in Baiae’ s bay,
And saw in sleep old palaces and towers
Quivering within the wave’s intenser day,
All overgrown with azure moss and flowers
So sweet, the sense faints picturing them! Thou
For whose path the Atlantic’s level powers
Cleave themselves into chasms, while far below
The sea-blooms and the oozy woods which wear
The sapless foliage of the ocean, know
Thy voice, and suddenly grow gray with fear,
And tremble and despoil themselves: oh, hear!
If I were a dead leaf thou mightest bear;
If I were a swift cloud to fly with thee;
A wave to pant beneath thy power, and share
The impulse of thy strength, only less free
Than thou, O uncontrollable! If even
I were as in my boyhood, and could be
The comrade of thy wanderings over Heaven,
As then, when to outstrip thy skiey speed
Scarce seemed a vision; I would ne’er have striven

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 As thus with thee in prayer in my sore need.
Oh, lift me as a wave, a leaf, a cloud!
I fall upon the thorns of life! I bleed!
A heavy weight of hours has chained and bowed
One too like thee: tameless, and swift, and proud
Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is:
What if my leaves are falling like its own!
The tumult of thy mighty harmonies
Will take from both a deep, autumnal tone,
Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, Spirit fierce,
My spirit! be thou me, impetuous one!
Drive my dead thoughts over the universe
Like withered leaves to quicken a new birth!
And, by the incantation of this verse,
Scatter, as from an unextinguished hearth
Ashes and sparks, my words among mankind!
Be through my lips to unawakened earth
The trumpet of a prophecy! O Wind,
If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?

2.1 Introduction
‘Ode To The West Wind’ is one of the best lyrics written by Shelley. It was written at
Florence in the autumn of 1819. According to Shelley’ s own notes the poem “was conceived
and chiefly written in a wood that skirts the Anio, near Florence and on a day when that
tempestuous wind, whose temperature is at once wild and animating, was collecting the
vapours which pour down the autumnal rains. They began as I foresaw, at sunset with a
violent tempest of hail and rain, and attended by that magnificent thunder and lightning
peculiar to the Cisapline regions”.
The poet addresses the wild west wind of autumn and identifies his spirit with its spirit.
Donald H. Reiman in his book Percy Bysshe Shelley (Twayne Publishers Inc. New York,
1969) writes “the ode embodies the conflicting themes of the poet’s personal despair and his
hopes for social renewal in the images drawn from the seasonal cycle”.
Ode to the West Wind consists of five stanzas. In the first three stanzas the speaker
invokes the spirit of the west wind, which is the ruler of the vegetation of the earth (stanza I)
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of air (stanza II) and water (stanza III) and highlights its inevitability—its unconquerable
force. He appeals to this wild spirit-impetuous spirit- to use him as a lyre. Irene H.Chayes
points out that in the concluding stanza the speaker does not ask the wind to enable him to
merge his character with its own, and become its instrument, rather he wants the wind to
become him.
‘Be thou. Spirit fierce,
My spirit! be thou me impetuous one’
He would like “Demogorgon to fight his battles (which are those of Prometheus) destroy
the old order, and carry (not seeds of the vegetation of earth, air, water, but) sparks of
spiritual fire. Though the fire of his individual thoughts may be dead and though his physical
life is dying, (stanza IV) he prays the wind to
Scatter, as from an unextinguished hearth
Ashes and sparks, my words among mankind!
“In the climactic position, however, stands a metaphor not of natural force but of artistic
inspiration” (Reiman)
If in stanza four the speaker draws the attention of the unconquerable wind to his
miserable plight and tries to convince it that he himself was once uncontrollable, the next
stanza he begins with an appeal to the wind to make the speaker its lyre. And immediately
after, true to the dramatic inversion of lines 61 -62 he demands that the wind should shape its
power to his will:
Be through my lips to unawakened earth
The trumpet of a prophecy
The choice of words in the concluding lines is very significant. The question begins-if
winter comes, not when winter comes. The words imply that “the analogy between the
seasonal cycle and human affairs is not a perfect one. It is because the cycle of mortal
mutability can be stopped in its course. What Shelley intends to convey is that with the
conscious efforts the men of vision can re-tum ‘the wheel of past winter to spring’. In
Prometheus Unbound Shelley has exhibited that it is possible to maintain moral spring time
longer than has been customary in most of human history.”
What surprises critics at times is the poet’s indulging in self-pity in many lyrics,
particularly in Ode to the West Wind, The Sky Lark, and his elegiac poem Adonais. In stanza
four in this Ode the speaker (the poet) dwells on his weakness. He says, if he had retained the
enthusiasm and illusion of his boyhood, when ‘to outstrip thy skiey speed/Scarce seemed a
vision’, he would not have’ striven/As thus with thee in prayer in my sore need.’
The lines (50-52) remind us of Dante. The poet here like Dante, is perhaps ‘lost in the
dark wood of our life’ and is ‘tangled in the vegetation governed by the force of necessity.
(Stanza 1-3). He has fallen ‘upon the thorns of life” and is bleeding. According to Reiman
“The fires of imagination sometimes consume thorns. but only (as Shelley was to declare in A

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Defence of Poetry) during a relatively few brief moments of inspiration. During the reflux of
imagination, a poet is, like other men, subject to mortal limitations, and it is the poet’s
realization of this condition that impels him to pray to the wind to stir his ashes and fading
coal of imagination.
“Shelley believed that only when revolutionary efforts are truly radical (striking at the
roots of human evil) by reorienting human drives from egotism to altruism and from hate and
pride to love and justice can there be meaningful progress.”
In Ode to the West Wind Shelley uses the West Wind as a vehicle of his message to the
suffering humanity, the destruction of obsolete, unwanted, dead institutions and beliefs are
required in order to regenerate the world. The poem ends on a note of hope.
If winter comes, can spring be far behind?
2.2 A Detailed Analysis:
Harold Bloom describes Ode to the West Wind as a poem about ‘the process of mythmaking’.
Its subject is ‘the nature and function of the rabi’ and ‘his relation to his prophesies.’ The Ode
incorporates many conventions of prophetic literature and particularly in the Hebrew
tradition. Shelley focuses on himself as a poet-prophet at the end of the Ode.
Be thou, spirit-fierce,
The trumpet of my prophecy!
He dramatically presents himself as an unheeded prophet and the neglected poet.
M.H. Abrams in The Mirror and Lamp: Romantic Theory and Critical Tradition writes
that the Ode ‘weaves around the central image of the destroying and preserving wind; the full
cycle of the myth is of death, and regeneration, vegetational, human and divine’.
Stanza I
Shelley invokes the Spirit of the Wild West Wind and treats nature as something “redundant
with life, and life has its individuality in man, beast and plant.”
“When in stanza-1, the poet addresses ‘the Wild West Wind; as the breath of Autumn’s
being’, the poet is doing what Job does in the Book of Job. The God of Job is not the God of
Whirlwind or in the Whirlwind but he is God of the Whirlwind also......’, Similarly the spirit
that moves in the west wind need not be a spirit that moves in the west wind only. One aspect
is revealed, but others are hinted at, and the treatment, precise but extraordinarily suggestive
can accommodate the beliefs of any one of us.” (Harold Bloom).
In Stanza one the west wind is a magician, an enchanter, he is unseen but his presence is
felt all through the poem. Like a magician/an enchanter he drives away the dead and dry
leaves the leaves fly away like ghosts. The wind is thus ‘a necromancer who also exorcises’.
The dead leaves are driven to destruction but the winged seeds (live seeds) are charioted with
full protection to their dark wintry bed. The wild west wind-the tempestuous powerful wind-
is not an indiscriminate destroyer. He is a protector, a preserver also.
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 The first five lines of the stanza one concentrate on the theme of destruction. The wind
destroys whatever is useless and dead. The leaves are dead, they are sapped of all life, they
are ‘yellow, black, pale and hectic red’ (the colours indicate they are dying) and they are also
compared to ‘the pestilence-stricken multitudes’ they are like diseased human beings who are
on the verge of death. The breath of autumnal tempestuous wind, with its thunder and
lightning frightens the decaying leaves (leaves dead) and they flee like ghosts-they are driven
to their death-beds. Very skillfully the poet introduces another theme-man and his
relationship with nature, by comparing the dying leaves with pestilence-stricken multitudes.
The same wind gently chariots the winged seeds to their wintry bed, in the bowels of the
earth. These seeds allow themselves to be carried. They have a full potentiality for more
abundant life so they are well-protected in the bowels of the earth. They sleep peacefully in
the earth-thus they escape ‘the grounding mutable death of everything taking place on the
surface of the earth during the autumn and winter season.’ Each seed lies like ‘a corpse’
within its grave - so long the seeds don’t germinate, they are almost dead. The west wind
protects them from sure death.
In the first five lines the wind’s awesomeness and wrath have been highlighted. But
when Shelley uses ‘chariotest’ the wind’s new aspect is revealed. The word ‘chariotest’
suggests ‘the divine impulsiveness of the force that drives the seeds, that moves the cycle of
life, that destroys and preserves, inexorably’ (H. Bloom)
The second part of the stanza (line six onwards) projects the image of the preserver and
the creator. The tempestuous wind preserves the seeds (which have full potentiality of life
encased within themselves) so that his azure sister, the harbinger of spring, may help them to
germinate. The useless, the dead, the unwanted, the diseased are completely destroyed, The
west wind’s azure sister will, then, usher in a new living world. She will blow her clarion. At
the call of the clarion the soundly sleeping winged seeds will wake up, will get out of their
earthly bed and appear on the surface to have fresh air and then the ‘frosty’ earth will be
covered with ‘living hues’ and ‘odors’. The lines suggest ‘a submerged image of human, of
quasi-Christian resurrection.’ The clarion here is not merely the clarion of judgement
(reference to The Day of Judgement), but also of a shepherdess (or a shepherd). The azure
sister (of the spring) is a shepherdess at whose call the seeds come out like the flocks of sheep
to feed in the air. The clarion will not only proclaim the end of temporal, annual winter but
also the end of the eternal winter, on the Day of Judgement, “The image is religious
pastoral”. When Shelley refers to the flocks he has perhaps Jesus Christ in mind. Jesus is the
harbinger of peace and love. ‘The sweet buds driven over the landscape prophesy a finally
redeemed nature (by implication the world) which will accompany the last change of season’.
The final couplet joins the two parts of the first stanza:, the wind is both the preserver
and the destroyer-the emphasis is on the present, the wind is moving ‘everywhere’ implying
the prophetic call to the individual to turn now. The second and third stanzas follow the
pattern of the first. Remember, ‘repetition is a binding and pointing device in prophetic

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poetry’ (H.B.) Each stanza ends with an appeal “oh, hear! “-a prayer of the I of the poet to the
Thou, the wind.
The poet describes the impact of the wind on the earth, air and water with great
precision. But the focal point of the poem, according to Harold Bloom is Thou-I relationship-
the mythmaking and the prophetic voice.
Stanza 2
In the second stanza the sky is likened to a stream or an ocean (deep), thus the word deep
connects the stanza with the next one (3rd) and when the poet talks of “the tangled boughs’
the
1. Some critics interpret ‘flocks’ as the flocks of birds who soar high in the sky and feed on
insects, which are not visible to naked human eyes, so they (birds) seem to feed in air (Pirie)
stanza automatically gets linked with the first one. Deep also means that the sky looks like a
bowl. Exploiting the natural-phenomena of the evaporation, Shelley creates an image of
destruction and preservation. The water of the ocean evaporating, rising up, forming clouds in
the sky is skillfully presented. Shelley is describing natural phenomena through a poetic
imagery.
Thick water vapours are rising from the ocean, going up, higher and higher, and then
spreading in the sky, forming dense solid clouds. It appears that a tree has grown out of the
ocean and its boughs and leaves have spread in the sky. The wind blows fiercely and seems to
shake “the tangled boughs of Heaven and Ocean” consequently the clouds are scattered in the
deep sky from horizon to the zenith’s height like the ‘decaying leaves. But the clouds are not
dead sky leaves’ they are angels of rain and lightning. Why angels? They will revive life
(natural) and give sustenance to the earth, Angels thus are associated with the winged seeds;
destruction and regeneration occur simultaneously.
Commenting on the second stanza Pottle writes. “The second stanza presents the action
of the wind in the sky. The poet’s eye goes up, and he sees there something like the scene in
the forest. High up is the canopy of solid, relatively stationary clouds, below are smaller
‘loose’ clouds driven swiftly along by the wind. Shelley calls the upper stationary cloud
formations the ‘boughs of Heaven and Ocean, because it consists of condensed water vapour
drawn up from the ocean by the heat of the sun (The Case of Shelley)
The formation of the clouds from the’ dim verge of the horizon to the Zenith’s height’ is
presented through the image of frenzied Maenad’s scattered, uplifted hair. The dark clouds
with accompanying storms are as terrifying as the frightening appearance of Maenad with her
loose uplifted hair. Maenad symbolises the destructive force here. Shelley through the image
of Maenad is once again presenting the wind as a destroyer. The west wind here’ prophesies a
storm (a revolution) which tears down kingdoms human lives as well as trees and leaves’

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 The sound of the wind moving through the forest is dirge like, commemorating the death
of the year. ‘The year and all that lived are sepulchered by the blackening dome of the storm-
driven sky, the association being political mainly” (H. Bloom).
Stanza 3
The impact of the wind is felt both by the peaceful Mediterranean and the vast Atlantic, The
Mediterranean is lulled by the gentle waves and is dreaming of the glory of the ancient
Greece and Rome. ‘The calm of the Mediterranean idealizes the best of the past’. The
outward appearance of the sea is the reminder of’ a graciousness and peace that is Elysian
and that can be found in this life at its best movements.’ The reflection of old palaces and
towers in the crystal-clear calm water of the sea are his summer dreams. The old palaces and
towers are the emblems of once despotic power, but now they have been subdued and
mellowed, have become ‘that regret for what has passed and is passing’.
The Mediterranean is rudely awakened by the west wind from its dreams. Even the great
Atlantic is terrified. The waves of the Ocean cleave themselves into chasms to allow the wind
to move without any hindrance. The sapless foliage, plants, flowers and woods, growing
inside the ocean, on hearing the thunderous voice of the wind, grow gray and shake with fear
and drop themselves - they surrender to the might of the wind. The poet appeals to the wind
to hear him. But the wind is so much engrossed in its’ activities that the poet’s appeal goes
unheeded.
Reference to die summer is significant in this stanza. Summer is over, it is autumn which
will soon be followed by spring. The present is thus linked with the past as in the first stanza.
The present autumn also refers to the future spring when all the gloom will disappear and
there will be resurrection, rejuvenation of life.
By implication (in the first three stanzas) Shelley asserts that only a radical revolution
can destroy the values, ideas, institutions and beliefs which have, become useless and which
have chained human beings. This revolution will be a blessing for it will lay down the
foundations of a Utopian world. The wind-the uncontrollable, powerful and fierce wind -
becomes the symbol of the revolution, Shelley, the visionary, had always dreamt of it.
In these stanzas “Shelley has also established the supremacy of the wind over the earth,
the sky and the ocean and highlighted the ferocious and destructive nature of the wind as well
as its power of preserving life.” He concentrates on 7”hou-Irelationship and realizes that
Thou is both a destroyer (Rudra) and the preserver (Vishnu-Shiva). It is omnipresent and
omnipotent. Shelley’s I has been persistently appealing to the thou of the wind,’ Oh, hear!1 In
the next stanza-he has to make a choice-cither he should surrender himself to the wind as an
object for it to experience (like a leaf, a cloud or a wave) or to command the wind to be one
with him.

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Stanza 4
He realizes that his enthusiasm for a change in the world for the welfare of mankind has been
subdued by the adverse circumstances, yet he is not fully ‘dead’. The ‘spark’ is still there-it
only needs to be enkindled. The poet, the reformer, the dreamer in him is still alive.
He continues to address the wind as thou (in stanzas 4+5) and also recognizes his human
situation. He cannot be it like the leaf, the wave and the cloud to be carried away by the
wind-his ‘I’ needs the wind’s protection. The poet asserts that he is not an object - a thing
without emotions, feelings, intellect, understanding and imagination. If he were a dead leaf, a
swift cloud or a wave, he would have surrendered himself to the powerful wind and allowed
it to lift him up, throw him around and share its might. But he belongs to human species-
hence he has been an active participant in humanity’ s successes and failures. As a young boy
he has been as uncontrollable as the tempestuous wind and had always challenged it, tried to
outstrip it, but now he has fallen on the thorns of life and is bleeding. Is Shelley indulging in
self-pity here? Or is he drawing our attention to the failure of the French Revolution, to the
set back received by the freedom fighters in Europe and also the mass movement of the
workers of the Peterloo which ended in a massacre? Being a radical, a rebel, a visionary, and
a fighter for human liberty, he is upset at the sufferings of human beings at the hands of
anarchists, tyrants and tyrannical institutions (religious, political, social and educational). Out
of disgust and despair he appeals to the wind.
Oh lift me as a wave, a leaf and a cloud!
I fall upon the thorns of life! I bleed!
A heavy chain of hours has chained and bowed
One too like thee......
The tone of the stanza is a little bit subdued. Shelley the poet-who was “once like thee’-
uncontrollable-and who often competed with the ‘speed’ of the wind in his boyhood days has
been ‘chained’ and ‘bowed’ by hours, has fallen upon the thorns of life and is bleeding-the “
depth of the protagonist’s alienation ‘from the indomitable spirit of the wind is highlighted”.
When Shelley says that he has fallen upon the thorns of life and is bleeding, he is presenting
himself as a Prometheus, Orpheus and Jesus figure.
‘In this Ode the song that breaks in the fourth stanza has lost in timelessness, swiftness,
pride, when it rises again in the final stanza, but it has gained ‘a deep autumnal tone sweet
though in sadness’. (H. Bloom).
Shelley’s appeal to the wind is similar to the laments of Job. (The Bible) Job prays for
his natural destruction either in the same way as his own children who were swept away by
‘the great wind from across the wilderness or else to be again as he was in the days of his
youth....When the Almighty was yet with me’. Job is reconciled to the voice speaking out of
the wind. No voice consoles Shelley in the ‘’Ode”.

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Stanza 5
The myth-making (that is Thou-I relationship between the west wind and the poet) takes a
new-shape in the final stanza. In this stanza the wind is still thou for the poet, but the poet’s /
has almost changed into it and so in the concluding stanza he first identifies himself with the
forest trees. What Shelley implies here is that the dead thoughts (despondent thoughts) have
crippled him and symbolically he has become ‘useless’ or ‘dead’ like a leaf, a wave, and a
cloud. He desires the wind to destroy all that is not required, remove this despondency so that
his prophetic voice is not subdued.
Harold Bloom explains the stanza five thus: “The thoughts are dead only in that they
have also become it, they are poems already written. But the l (spirit) of the poet is not yet
dead, nor is it to be submerged in the wind... when the poet says ‘Let your spirit be my spirit’,
he implies that the impetuosity, and energy of the wind may be his, and ‘my message may be
your message’. As the Prophet needs God and God also needs the Prophet, the poet needs the
wind as the latter needs the Poet. No mystical merging into a larger Identity but mutual
confrontation of two realities is what is involved here”’. (H. Bloom)
Let the aeolian harp (lyre) of the forest be combined with the ‘mighty harmonies’ of the
wind’s spirit for producing ‘the deep autumnal tone’. Both the Poet’s spirit and the spirit of
the wind must join together to sound ‘the trumpet of prophecy,” before the clarion is blown
by the spring. What’s the prophecy?
If winter comes, can spring be far behind?
And thus Shelley in his “Ode” has achieved his goal - he has made the thou of the wind, /
of the poet.
.......Be thou. spirit fierce,
My spirit! Be thou me, impetuous one.
The Oneness has been achieved.
The visionary poet in Shelley has established a rapport with the Spirit of the Wild West
Wind/This coming togetherness will sound ‘the trumpet of the prophecy’, the poet’s words
will be scattered among mankind. The voice of the wind will be the voice of the poet himself
and the unawakeneed earth (not yet aware of its liberating power) will wake up and then
winter would disappear forever and spring-joy, happiness, liberty, love, equality and brother-
hood will reign the earth.

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 (ii) Ozymandias
Ankita Sethi

1. Learning Objectives
This lesson is will enable you to:
 Understand and appreciate Romantic poetry
 Critically engage with the genre, form, themes and literary devices used in the
Romantic era
 Comprehend the attitude of the poet towards the idea of decay and mortality
 Acknowledge the impermanence of power and glory
2. About the Poem
An unconventional sonnet in the iambic pentameter, Ozymandias deals with crucial themes
like role of art, the idea of decay and mortality. Like the poet who rejected religion and defied
social conventions, the poem also defies the set pattern of a sonnet. Shelley formed his own
rhyming scheme for the poem which was a radical innovation in his day. The poem follows
ABABACDCEDEFEF rhyming scheme which is a far cry from the traditional one. The poem
is also unconventional because sonnets are usually written by the men who profess their love
in the form of verse and the subject in such traditional sonnets is the beloved. This poem
takes Egyptian King/Pharaoh Ramses the Great, the Greeks knew him as Ozymandias. He
was considered as one of the most powerful and eminent ancient Egyptian King.
3. Analysis–Lines 1-8
I met a traveller from an antique land,
Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;

The poem starts with narrator’s recollection of a memory of a traveler who came from an
ancient and exotic empire. The traveler told him a tale of desolation and ruined state of the
empire which used to be great. In the second line ‘two vast trunkless legs of stone’ vividly
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depicts the derelict and broken statue of a seemingly great man who is unknown to both the
narrator and the reader. Near by the statue, its head, ‘a shattered visage’ lay ‘Half sunk’ in the
sand. The narrator appreciates the sculptor who carved it out of the stone. The sculptor was
deft and perceptive enough to understand visage’s emotion and imprinted it with the same
passion. Shelley also comments on the romantic ideal of the timelessness of art. Here, the
poet/reader knows about the statue not because of the sculptor but because of the statue’s
symbol as an art that lasts forever.
Self- Check Questions
1: What does the title refer to?
2: Elaborate upon the kind of feelings that words like ‘frown’, ‘wrinkled lip’ and ‘sneer of
cold command’ induce?

4. Analysis- Lines 9-14

And on the pedestal, these words appear:
My name is Ozymandias King of Kings;
Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.”

The next verse or sestet informs the reader about the identity of the shattered and sunken
visage in the previous verse or octet. The noble language of the inscription instantaneously
reflects megalomania (obsession/delusion about one’s power) and vainglory. The treatment
could be seen in a way which inspires awe in the same way epic poetry does. The statement
by Satan in the great epic, Paradise Lost, ‘Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven’
serves as an example of such psyche. The very next line immediately negates the idea with a
powerful irony. The king who so proudly boasted his achievements that others would despair
at his feet, was laid waste by time and history. Ozymandias’s once great empire was reduced
to nothing. The poet shows decay everywhere and the great statue of the ‘supreme Egyptian
emperor’ is now but a colossal wreck. Here Shelly comments upon the ephemeral nature of
civilizations where everything is bound to be lost into oblivion. The statue which was symbol
of strength and power is now humbled. The great civilization of Egypt is long gone and only
crumbling vestiges of the old empire remains.
The poem also acts like a double metaphor. The first one symbolizes political metaphor.
During Shelley’s time, King George III was the ruler of Great Britain. He ruled longer than
any monarch before him and was quite oppressive as the country was involved in many
militaristic conflicts around the world. Shelley abhorred the idea of such an oppressive
regime and thus the poem was written as a scathing criticism of unchecked power. Influenced

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by the ideals of French Revolution, Shelley voiced his criticism against monarchy. Through
this poem, he comments upon human pride and the downfall of monarchy; no matter how
great it is, time and history will ultimately level it. The second metaphor acts on a general
level, for the didactic purpose of reader. The broken statue of Ozymandias also symbolizes
the pride of humanity. The proverb, “pride comes before fall” fits rightly as Shelly asserts
upon its short and glorious life followed by its decline and eventual ruin. Pride is also an
emotion which is manifested in violent ways. It must also be noted that Shelley believed in
peaceful protest as opposed to violent protests. Thus, the reader can understand his
disapproval of anything that incites violence.
Self- Check Questions
1: Comment on timelessness of art in context of this poem
2: Comment upon the poem as a metaphor.
3: ”My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings; Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!”
What do you understand by these lines?

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 Unit-3c

John Keats–Odes
Mary Samuel

Keats’s adopted ode form in place of narrative form for two reasons. One it gave him an
opportunity to invoke the spirit of the ‘object’ described and identify his I with the spirit.
‘Like prayer, lyric apostrophe addresses the other in the hope that the act of speech will lead
to communication between the “I” of the poet and the presence invoked...The Odes’ unforced
quality comes not just from the spontaneity with which they were composed, but Keats’s
discovery of a form which is built on tension between what is and what might be. The very
nature of the lyric ode assumes the subject and object are not one. Keats’s complex urges to
affirmation, questioning, and doubt are allowed full and unselfconscious play by the Odes’
clear distinction between speaker of object addressed and reader. The admitted subjectivity of
the genre is the basis of the Odes’ hard won objectivity.” (John Keats by John Barnard)
Keats’s famous Odes appeared in Isabella, The Eve of St Agnes, and Other Poems
published in 1820. In this collection of poems Keats seems to concern himself with the
attitude of the Victorian public who were influenced by Bentham’s theory of Utilitarianism
towards poetry. The Benthamites ridiculed poetry because it had no utilitarian purpose, “it
deals with non-existent Truth. and Beauty, it creates fictitious world and propagates
unprofitable idealism.” In many of these poems Keats shows the conflict between the
visionary or imaginary world and the actual mundane life on this earth.” Paradoxically he
attempts to depict “how Imagination or Fancy can transport us from the world of sordid
reality to the world of Immortality, Beauty and Truth, yet Fancy cannot cheat us `forever’—
whatever we see ‘imaginatively’ is short-lived for the perplexed or retarded mind is forced to
come back to the actual existence.”
In order to write his Odes he made certain adjustments in the stanzaic forms. He
experimented with the sonnet. He invented a stanza which allowed thought -to be developed
across several stanzas without losing ‘the interwoven and complete’. (Keats’s words)
character of the sonnet. According to Barnard `Keats’s Odes strive for an interwoven
completeness, returning upon their own questions, each movement cutting in a .new direction,
yet seeking a resolution within the original poetic premise— “eve(r)y point of thought is the
centre of an intellectual world” (Keats, Letters, I, 243). As a body they question one another,
reformulate, and worry at closely related problems, forming a loose continued debate from
the “Ode to Psyche to that on “Indolence,” with “To Autumn” as a later and final return.
Broadly speaking the Odes are concerned with exclusion, with transience and loss, beauty
and pain, joy and sorrow, and the challenge which experienced reality presents to the
possibility of transcendence...each Ode is separate, a spider’s web growing from a specific
point...each poem feels its way .from its own beginnings and in some sense returns to that
beginning.’

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 Like Keats’s Endymion “Ode to Psyche” deals with pastoral setting, lovers (from
classical mythology) sleep in bowers and the speaker comes across a vision while wandering
through a forest. Here the similarity ends. The Ode is “a self-contained hymn to a goddess.”
“Psyche...the goddess was never worshipped or sacrificed to with any of the ancient
fervour—and perhaps never thought of in the old religion—I am more orthodox than to let
heathen Goddess be so neglected—“ (Keats’s Letters II 106)
`Ode to Psyche’ is an attempt by the self-conscious ‘modern’ imagination to create its
own myth. Psyche, the soul, needs the completion of love, and the poem’s final goal is a
dream of love as well as poetry. Both poetry and human love are creations of the sympathetic
imagination. “Ode to Psyche” differs from the two Odes—“Ode to A Nightingale” and “Ode
On a Grecian Urn”—because of its pattern of question is followed by affirmation, , it removes
all doubts.’ Middleton Murry and Earl Wasserman believe that the intention of Ode to
Grecian urn is to uphold art as the highest form of wisdom.” Symbolically urn may be taken
to be ‘a kind of truth proposed by art, more particularly by poetry and the imagination, but
one whose order of knowing is implicitly criticised by the speaker as a limited one which
denies humanity.’ (J. Barnard). The Urn is much more than a piece of art—the Ode is a
meditation upon an art object which offers a variety of challenges to the viewer. In the “Ode”
Keats subtly creates an imaginary urn which allows the viewer ‘to transpose a picture or art
objects into ‘words’. Keats not only brings out the contrast between life and time captured
and fossilised in art (inscribed pictures) and transitory life and time in the actual world but
also depicts that. Art makes life and time static and thus immortal but life and time go on
changing and so lead to impermanency and mutability.”
The order of Odes as published in 1820 volume—Nightingale, Grecian urn and Psyche—
indicates a movement from doubt to affirmation. All through the Ode the powerful
undercurrent of dissatisfaction with the ‘limitations’ of the Urn’s world does not permit the
speaker to accept the urn’s truth—`Beauty is Truth, and Truth is Beauty’ for the urn is a cold
pastoral and it ‘teases’ the viewer.
Compared with “Ode on a Grecian Urn”, the “Ode to A Nightingale” is a more mature
and complete poem. John Barnard writes, “Its tensions between flux and stasis, process and
annihilation, being and non-being, are integral to structure and meaning. Means and end
match perfectly. With consummate ease, the ‘Nightingale’ plays backwards and forwards
between the spontaneous song of an actual bird and the poet’s conscious and deepening
reflections. Neither a goddess nor an object, the nightingale allows for an unforced
meditation, an internal dialogue which is simultaneously an exchange between human and
non-human.”
Keats is always concerned with felt experience and common experience for he is a poet
of sight. His Odes deal with figures and people, and reveal how it feels to ‘be puzzled and
pained, yet joyful and ecstatic’. His ‘essential experience is the Oxymoronic realization that
the pain is indivisible from joy’.

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 In his “Ode to Melancholy” beauty, joy and ‘aching pleasure’ exist in time.
Melancholy’s ‘sovran shrine’ is hidden in the ‘very temple of Delight.’ Keats is opposed to
suicide and tries to impress upon the reader that Melancholy is present all around us. We
must not shun it, rather we must experience it to the fullest. Melancholy is presented as a
mistress and a goddess. ‘The intensity of joy is dependent upon a sense of its passing’. The
moment we realise we are experiencing joy, it begins to decay. Sorrow and joy, melancholy
and pleasure are co-existent.
“Ode on Indolence” is an escapist poem. Keats considered his spring Odes as indulgent
self-deceptions.
The spring Odes were written during a spell of fine weather when Keats lived next door
to Fanny Brawne. In these Odes we find a very profound awareness of sufferings and of the
temporariness of beauty. They describe the experience of joy and sorrow, decay of beauty
and pleasure, life and death, immortality and mortality and meditate on how humanity can
cope with life’s contradictions.
Keats refashioned the sonnet form to suit his requirements in the Odes. The ten-lined
stanzas are formed with the combination of a quatrain (abab) and sestet (generally cdecde).
The quatrain gives an anchor to the verse and the sestet provides enough room to the verse to
expand. In ‘Ode to A Nightingale’ the line eight has been shortened while in `To Autumn’ a
septet has been used in place of a sestet.
The Odes are remarkable for ‘their fine description power and concentrated richness of
expression’. Word pictures are integral to the poem, there is nothing redundant.
“Compression, precision, compactness of expressions and images add beauty to the Odes.”
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage trees, meaning trees growing in the a cottage garden
is ‘ a highly original use of language”, ‘the coming musk rose, full of dewy wine’ (“Ode to a
Nightingale”) contains ideas of freshness, (dewy, coming) maturity (frill) and heady
intoxication (‘musk’, ‘wine’),
The figure of personification gives vitality to inanimate objects or abstractions. Autumn
is given a subtle personification—`conspiring with the sun,’ sitting careless on a granary
floor.’
`Keats has also used alliteration (repetition of consonant sounds) and assonance
(repetition of vowel sounds) in these Odes. The musicality of the Odes is often dependent
upon the sound sequence and very often they reinforce in sound the sense which the words
express. The sound of insects is clearly present in the nasal on and n and in the s sounds of
“murmurous haunt of flies on the summer eves” as is the effervescence of wine in the
explosive bs of “beaded bubbles winking at the brim” (“Nightingale”). The knobbly bark of
the trees, the weight of the fruit and crispness of apples may all perhaps be felt in
ennunciating “moss’d Cottage—trees” (`Autumn’).’
Keats’s Spring Odes are concerned with ‘poetry as an art: its material, its images, the
moods of its creator and it claims to immortality’. Brian stone writes—“Ode to Psyche”
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draws on Keats’s imaginative engagement with `the beautiful mythology of Greece’, to fancy
the elevation of the mortal lover of gold cupid to godhood herself.
Her temple, in the mind of the poet, will be dressed ‘With the wreathed trellis of a
working brain’, so that she will preside over, and participate in his acts of creation and love.
“Ode to A Nightingale” presents that familiar bird as a type of permanence in art, viewed in
the perspective of the poet’s own creative mood, the rise and decline of which constitute the
frame and determine the rhythm of the poem: his ecstasy in the half way state between wake
and asleep; his recognition of, and poetic profit form, the close relation between pain and
pleasure; and his understanding of the contrast between the imaginary world of poetic ecstasy
and the real world of suffering and death. “Ode on a Grecian Urn” pursues the idea of the
perfection and permanence of a fine work of art more selectively...“Ode on Melancholy
“...presents the mood of the title...as a rich state of mind in which intense feelings such as joy
and “aching pleasure” may be expressed more powerfully because of “the wakeful anguish of
the soul” in its melancholic state. ...There are three linked figures (“Ode on Indolence”)
which Keats treats as personifications of Love, Ambition and Poesy, they change as he moves
round the urn, and seem to be “Shadows”, “Ghosts” whom, in a mood of indolence, he
wishes to banish, that is, to cease being inspired by them”.

(i) Ode to a Nightingale

Mary Samuel

My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains

My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk.
Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains
One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk:
`Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, 5
But being too happy in thine happiness,
That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees,
In some melodious plot
Of beechen green, and shadows numberless,
Singest of summer in full-throated ease. 10
O, for a draught of vintage! that hath been
Cool’d a long age in the deep-delved earth,
Tasting of Flora and the country-green,

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 Dance, and Provencal song, and sunburnt mirth!
O for a beaker full of the warm South! 15
Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene,
With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,
And purple-stained mouth;
That I might drink, and leave the world unseen,
And with thee fade away into the forest dim: 20
Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget
What thou among the leaves hast never known,
The weariness, the fever, and the fret
Here, where men sit and hear each other groan;
Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last grey hairs, 25
Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies;
Where but to think is to be full of sorrow
And leaden-eyed despairs,
Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes,
Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow. 30
Away! away! for I will fly to thee,
Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards,
But on the viewless wings of Poesy,
Though the dull brain perplexes and retards:
Already with thee! tender is the night; 35
And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne,
Cluster’d’around by all her starry Fays;
But here there is no light,
Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown
Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways. 40
I cannot see what flowers are at my feet,
Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs,
But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet

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 Where with the seasonable month endows
The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild: 45
White hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine;
Fast-fading violets cover’d up in leaves;
And mid-May’s eldest child,
The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine,
The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves. 50
Darkling I listen; and, for many a time
I have been half in love with easeful Death,
Call’d him soft names in many a mused rhyme,
To take into the air my quiet breath;
Now more than ever seems it rich to die, 55
To cease upon the midnight with no pain,
While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad
In such an ecstasy!
Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain—
To thy high requiem become a sod. 60
Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird!
No hungry generations tread thee down;
The voice I hear this passing night was heard
In ancient days by emperor and clown:
Perhaps the self-same song that found a path 65
Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home,
She stood in tears amid the alien corn;
The same that oft-times hath
Charm’d magic casements, opening on the foam
Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn. 70
Forlorn! The very word is like a bell
To toll me back from thee to my sole self!
Adieu! The fancy cannot cheat so well

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 As she is fam’d to do, deceiving elf.
Adieu! Adieu! Thy plaintive anthem fades 75
Past the near meadows, over the still stream,
Up the hill-side; and now ‘tis buried deep
In the next valley-glades:
Was it a vision, or a waking dream?
Fled is that music:—Do I wake or sleep? 80

A Study of the Poem

Introduction
The “Ode to A Nightingale” was written in May 1819. “The poem presents Keats’s
‘unappeased craving for permanence, his failure to escape the mutable world and die into a
higher life.’ The speaker (the poet) is overpowered by the spontaneous melodious song of a
Nightingale, he hopes to follow it into the forest dim, leaving behind the spectacle of human
death, suffering, fret and fever, and die so as to perpetuate the ecstatic moment. The poet on
the viewless wings of poesy moves into ‘the eternal realm of song’ and is able to feel the
charm of the embalmed beauty of nature and experience and visualise the magical effect of
the song of this immortal bird not only on himself but also in remote times on Ruth, Kings,
Clowns and the maidens imprisoned in the castles located on the shores of perilous sees. The
poet is transported to a world of eternal joy and immortality, his return to actuality is very
shattering. The nightingale impresses upon him the consciousness of his own mortality and
sharpens the contrast between sensation and thought. The poem also highlights the contrast
between the raptures of the bird’s song and consecutive reasoning of the perplexing and
retarding “dull brain.” Like the “Ode to Psyche” this ‘’Ode on a Nightingale” extols the
autonomous power of imagination which can create ‘beauty as a compensation of the life’s
losses’. The bird’s song also reveals how beauty consists of ‘the ecstasy’ (158) of fulfilment
as well as the “plaintive note” of disillusion. If Keats suspects the power of visionary
experience in the “Ode to Psyche”, in this Ode he is unable to sustain the ecstasy of that
experience till the end of the poem and he is forced to return to the actual world, from the
realm of fancy. The ending of the poem—Do I wake or sleep—undermines the poet’s song-
inspired visionary flight and casts doubt on the whole nightingale episode. Critics call the Ode
‘a reverie, inspite of the fact that Keats had actually heard a nightingale’s song from ‘their
Hamstead home and the bird’s song had inspired him to write this Ode.’ (Brown’s letter in
Keats’s Circle II, 65)

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The poem
Keats listens to the song of the nightingale. He feels extremely happy at its happiness. He
experiences an aching pleasure (pleasure felt as pain) on listening to it. He seems to have
forgotten his surroundings. The poet longs for a cup of wine to escape into the happy world of
the nightingale. He is then acutely reminded of the tragedy of human life -- the fever and fret
of life. Keats then seeks the help of poetic imagination. With Poesy, he finds himself
transported into the world of the nightingale which has all the beauty of early summer. His
happiness is intense and he is completely lost in that happy world. The pleasure that he feels
is so rich and true that he wants to make this luxurious moment a permanent one. So he yearns
for death. ‘It is rich to die’ in that temporary heaven. It would be a luxurious experience for
him because the nightingale is singing in ecstasy and he would die listening to it. Thus death
would become a boon, a positive, healthy experience for Keats now. Soon he realizes the
impossibility of the fulfilment of his desire. The idea of death reminds him strikingly of the
immortality of the bird (its song), nature’s music as contrasted with human mortality (change
and decay). The nightingale is immortal in the sense that its song knows no death. The beauty
and joy of the nightingale’s song do not change with the passage of time. Its song is the same
today as it was heard ages back, by kings and peasants, by Ruth, the Moabite woman in the
days of the old Testament and by princesses in forlorn fairy land in the middle ages of magic
and romance. So the song of the nightingale knows no historical or geographical limits. The
closing of the 7th stanza with the word ‘forlorn’ wakes him up from the world of poetry. He
realizes that he cannot escape from the realities of the world as easily as he had desired and
pretended to. He bids the bird good-bye and imagines the bird fading away into distant lands.
The poet returns to the realities of life, somewhat dazed. He is uncertain what is real—the
little happiness that he was lulled into or this dull life he was living. (M. Samuel)
Study Notes
Stanza I
Keats describes here the effect of the song of the nightingale upon his mind. As the poet
listens to the song of the nightingale, his heart aches, it is a feeling experienced due to
excessive joy at the bird’s song. That is so say, the happiness that he shares is so intense that it
becomes an aching pleasure, a pleasure felt as pain.
The poet feels that a numbness creeps over him—that his senses have been paralysed as
if he had taken some sleep inducing drink (narcotic) like hemlock or some sedative drink
made from opium. This again is due to excessive happiness at the bird’s song, the joy that he
feels overpowers his senses. In a minute the poet seems to forget his surroundings and is rapt
in the song of the nightingale. He feels as if he had sunk into Lethe (the river of forgetfulness
in Greek and Roman mythology, one of the rivers of the underworld or Hades).
The souls of the dead, according to ancient Greek belief, had to drink from Lethe before
they entered the Hades, the home of the dead.

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 The aching pleasure that the poet feels is not because he is envious of the bird singing so
joyously but because he feels too happy in the happiness of the nightingale. The result is that
he is completely lost in it.
The poet loves the bird as it sings like a Dryad (wood nymph) who is supposed to be the
presiding deity of the forest in Greek mythology. The poet regards the bird as the spirit of joy
that is found in the woodland world. The poet imagines the nightingale to be a spirit of the
wood-land singing of the glories of summer so spontaneously in some “far off scene, of
woodland mystery and beauty”.
Melodious green: a green plot of ground, overgrown with beech trees and resounding
with the melody or music of the bird’s song.
Shadows numberless: light and shade falling upon the grassy plot as the light of the sun
filters through the foliage of trees.
Singest of summer: Probably it was due to the drugging effect that the poet felt so as the
poem was written in the spring season.
Full throated ease: a rich and condensed expression. Like an expert musician, the
nightingale is straining her throat to the fullest, yet the song is not strained but natural and
spontaneous.
Stanza II
The Poet shows an intense desire to escape or pass into the delightful world of the
nightingale, leaving the miserable world of the Man. He seeks the help of wine to affect this
escape.
Keats longs for a draught of the richest wine, rare old wine cooled in the deep cellars of
the earth for long years. It should be rich with the romantic spirit of the spring-season when
festivities are held in honour of Flora, the goddess of spring, by the grape gatherers in the
warmer regions of Southern France (Provence).
In other words, the wine that the poet would like to drink, should be rich with its
associations of the rustic and merry making activities like song and dance held in honour of
Flora in the country green (the village common) by the sunburnt Italian and French grape
gatherers.
Italy and Provence being in South of Europe are comparatively warm hence the natives
of these regions are ‘sunburnt’ as we Indians are. People in South regions of Europe are more
cheerful and romantic because the climate itself is inspiring these qualities.
Warm South: wine prepared in the warm regions of Italy and Provence. The poet does
not want ordinary wine, but one rich in contents and distilling all the romantic associations
and spirit of the warm southern regions especially of France and Italy. The greenness of the
happy earth, the sweetness of the flowers, the mirth and mystic of the sunburnt children of
Provence. All things should combine to add to its flavour, taste and delicacy.

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 Blushful: red. Note that good wines are generally colourless. But the poet, to indulge his
taste for rich colours, must have it red.
Hippocrene: Greek word for the fountain, of Horse. A fountain on Mt. Helicon in
Greece, is said to have arisen, where Pegasus kicked Helicon. Its was sacred to the Muses
who preside over all arts and poetry. Its waters were said to be capable of imparting poetic
inspiration. Here it means stimulant of fancy or poetic inspiration.
Beaded bubbles: bead like bubbles.
Winking...brim: it is a graphic description of the idea of effervescence. As old, well-
fermented wine is poured into a glass or beaker, bead like bubbles rise to the brim of the glass
and then burst and disappear.
Purple stained mouth: the mouth of the glass or its brim is stained purple with the frothy
wine.
The poet desires for a beaker full of the wine of the fountain of Hippocrene with the
bubbles I shining at the surface and even the mouth of the beaker may be stained with the
purple or red colour of the wine.
Note: “The poet desired wine as a means of escape from the pain of his own thoughts
and of the world”. By drinking the wine Keats hopes to be absorbed wholly in the
nightingale’s song and thus be happy with the bird in the shady wood.
These lines bring out clearly one of the characteristics of Keats as a romantic poet—his
sensuousness.
We have an abundance of sensuous imagery in this stanza where the poet expresses a
passionate desire for some Provencal wine or wine from the fountain of muses. The original
and highly expressive phrases like “blushful Hippocrene,`beaded bubbles winking at the
brim’, ‘embalmed darkness’, ‘are highly pleasing to the sense of sight and sense of taste.
Matthew Arnold says, “Keats as a poet is abundantly and enchantingly sensuous”.
Stanza III
Pain and misery of life is depicted. The stanza starts with the poet’s intense longing to escape
from the world of pain and misery and to become one with the bird and its happy woodland
life. In the very effort to forget his own misery or melancholy, Keats remembers only too
acutely, the universal tragedy of human destiny, the ills that assail life from all quarters
sparing neither age, nor sex nor beauty. Man suffers from boredom, disgust and despair, from
irritation and feverish excitement. Misery is widespread. People helplessly hear each other
groan. All those things which we value most—youth, beauty and’, love-are subject to disease
and decay. A thinking person is subject to grief and trouble. Keats feels bitterly that Love and
Beauty, -the two things that he desired most are short-lived. The thought of it fills him with
sadness.

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Stanza IV
Gloomy thoughts about human destiny are soon dismissed together with the possibility of
wine as an escape from them. Soon, the vehicle of flight is no longer wine but poetic fancy or
imagination. He is already with the nightingale among the branches of trees in a summer
garden hidden from the light of the moon who like a fairy queen holds her court in the sky
surrounded by her courtiers i.e. the stars. [Poetic imagination helps the poet to pass from the
real world to the ideal world.] Although the moon is shining in majestic glory in the sky, it is
only when the night breezes sway the branches and part the leaves that the gleams of
moonlight somewhat lessen the darkness under the trees full of green foliage and along the
zigzag moss-covered paths between them.
verdurous glooms — the green shadows of the forest
heaven — the (moonlit) sky
Note: Poetic fancy is a state of mental exaltation.
Stanza V
The poet is already with the bird in the forest in imagination. The place is dark but filled with
the perfume from the flowers growing on the bushes around his feet. Though he cannot see,
from the scent emanating from the flowers he can guess what flowers are at his feet or what
blossoms are above his head. He can feel more than the sensory eye can see. The atmosphere
is filled with the sweet fragrance of flowers. From the sweet smell he can name several
flowers and plants that bloom there. He calls the darkness ‘embalmed darkness.’ He guesses
that the white hawthorn, the egalantine, the violet, the wild fruit trees, the first flower of mid-
summer (middle of May) the musk rose which is soon to blossom and which is full of dew
and honey to which the buzzing bees are attracted by its fragrance, are around the place.
Soft incense: a delicate, soothing perfume (A reference to the sense of smell).
The seasonable month: the month which is favourable to the growth of season’s flowers
(Spring).
Pastoral. egalantine: .a kind of wild rose which grows in country places.
Fast fading violets: short lived violets.
musk: a substance with a very strong smell, obtained from the male musk deer and used
for making perfumes.
Mid-May’s eldest child: the first flower to bloom in the middle of May,
The coming musk rose: the musk rose with the fragrance of musk which is about to
bloom. This was most probably written in early May.
Dewy wine: full of dew and honey (dew drops in the cup of the flower are referred to as
wine by the poet).
Murmurous haunt: haunted by flies or bees with a murmuring or buzzing sound.
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 embalmed darkness: The whole darkness of the garden has been made fragrant by the
flowers of the season (darkness filled with a balmy fragrance). Embalmed is also associated
with death.
Stanza V shows the delighted response to the sensuous beauty of the physical world. The
poet is not describing what he actually sees around him. He tells us explicitly that there is no
light for him to distinguish the flowers growing on the ground and the blossoms on the trees
and hedges. He can only guess what they are from their scents.
Notice that ‘soft incense’, ‘embalmed darkness’, ‘dewy wine’, ‘seasonable month’, are
word pictures. Only Keats who is abundantly and enchantingly sensuous can convert incense
and perfume into something virtually solid. In this stanza we can say he has woven round
scent, warmth, colour, taste and sound into a texture of unforgettable beauty.
Stanza VI
While listening to the song of the nightingale in the dark, the poet feels that it would be ‘a
luxurious experience’ to die at such a moment, to fade away from existence without suffering
any pain at the mystic hour of midnight while listening to the rapturous and ecstatic song of
the nightingale. In fact the poet wants to perpetuate this moment of enchantment, and ecstasy.
It is rich to die now for the nightingale’s song will be a funeral prayer for Keats and he will
die listening to it. The nightingale would go on singing even when he is dead and can no
longer hear it.
Note: By the end of this stanza human and nightingale’s worlds have been entirely separated.
Call’d...names: have addressed him by many endearing epithets.
Stanza VII
The idea of death gradually brings him back to reality. The process starts in stanza 7 and ends
in stanza 8.
The poet calls the nightingale an immortal bird. The nightingale has now been
transformed into a symbol of its race and the song of the nightingale heard by countless
generations over centuries is symbolised by its permanence. The - poet here means that the
song or voice of the nightingale carries the same freshness and music as it did in the past and
it will continue to do so in future (though this particular bird will die).
Generations of nightingales follow one another, and they remain immortal in their songs,
their song is as sweet and charming today as it was in ancient days, in the Bible-history or
even in .fairy romance.
Immortal bird: The epithet is justified if the nightingale is taken as the type and symbol
of its race.
No hungry...down: the bird is not crushed to death in a savage struggle for existence such
as is waged in human society.

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 The song of the nightingale that the poet now hears is exactly the same song that was
heard in ancient times. It is this characteristic that makes the poet give the title of immortality
to the nightingale. The bird’s song opens. the flood-gates of the poet’s memory and takes him
into the far-off age of legendary romance. It is the same song that the nightingale has been
pouring out since the beginning of the world, the same song which in ancient days must have
been heard by king and peasant alike; the same song which Ruth heard when she stood sad
and lonely in the cornfield of a strange land; the same song to hear which maidens dwelling
in magic castles, must have opened their casement windows in desolate fairy lands. The
magical effect of the song has been highlighted.
These castles are built on rocks of stormy seas in forlorn fairy land. The song of the
nightingale must have cheered the heart of a disconsolate princess held in duress by her
demon lover.
this passing night: to-night.-
emperor and clown: the greatest and the humblest. Clown here means common person.
the sad heart of Ruth: A reference to the story of Ruth in the Old Testament.
Ruth, a woman of Moab, was married to a Jew in Moab whose father had come from
Bethlehem of Judea. After her husband died, she migrated with her mother-in-law Naomi to
the distant ancestral land of Judea i.e., Bethlehem. There she began to glean corns of barley
left by the reapers in the field of Boaz, a distant relation of her father-in-law. He treated her
kindly and afterwards married her.
The Bible story does not say that Ruth was homesick or sad, but this would be natural
even if the sense of duty to her mother-in-law had led her to leave her home.
sick: pining, longing.
alien corn: foreign fields as she migrated from Moab.
The poet explains why he considers the nightingale immortal.
In Romantic stories like Arabian Nights, we hear of enchanted castles in which
princesses are imprisoned in magic castles and their magic windows open on the stormy
waves of a wild sea; opening and shutting automatically by magic. As the nightingale passes
over the enchanted castle singing its magic song, windows open of themselves to allow some
imprisoned princess to hear its song.
fairy lands forlorn: some far off deserted uninhabited lands of the fairies or legendary
countries of romance as in the Arabian Nights.
forlorn: solitary or deserted.
“These two lines condense the whole world of romantic imagination and conjure up by
their suggestion, the very world of romance. In all poetry, there is no better expression of the
spirit of romance than these lines”.

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 We see the voice of the nightingale is made immune first to history then to geography; it
can establish a rapport with dead generations or fairy lands.
Stanza VIII
The mood of exaltation is over. The use or thought of the word `forlorn’ acts as a rude
reminder to the poet of his own forlorn or solitary condition (Mention of the world ‘forlorn’
has broken the spell of imagination). The word has brought him back to reality. It is just like
the tolling of a bell that reminds him of some forgotten work. It reminds the poet of the
realities of life which he had forgotten on account of the nightingale’s song.
The poet finds that after all the powers of fancy are exaggerated. Man cannot ignore the
sad realities of life even with the help of fancy or imagination. As the spell of imagination
breaks, the poet feels that the bird has flown away and he bids good-bye to the nightingale.
He is disappointed in man’s imaginative faculty, which is commonly believed to have great
powers of making people forget themselves and their surroundings. In his case, the spell of
imagination has been short lived, he is already awake to the sad realities of life.
The poet is not sure whether he had been seeing a vision in sleep or dreaming while
awake. “Was it a vision of a waking dream? Fled is that music. Do I wake or sleep?” There is
at least one clear change in the situation. He has ceased to hear the nightingale’s song. How is
he to explain this?
plaintive anthem: song full of complaint. It refers to the legendary story of the
nightingale. Her human name was Philomel. They were two sisters. Her elder sister married
and went off with her husband. But she loved her so much that she sent back her husband to
fetch Philomel. On the way, he raped her and to conceal his secret, he cut off her tongue. The
gods turned her into a nightingale, and she goes about pouring out her complaint against that
injustice.
Some Observations
Ode to a Nightingale contains the spirit of romance and it is extremely passionate and
sensuous in its descriptions and expressions. The sensuousness of Keats should not be
misunderstood for delight in cheap sensual pleasures. Keats’s sensuousness is in fact a higher
conception of beauty. He presents the details with such expressions that the reader’s eyes,
ears and other senses perceive and appreciate and feel what he describes.
The descriptions of the poet’s desire for a cup of cool Provencal wine tasting of flowers,
dance and sunburnt mirth and his longing for a beaker of the warm southern wine which
would inspire him like the water from the fountain sacred to the muses (Hippocrene) are
highly sensuous and appeal to the reader’s sense of sight, and smell. Equally pleasing to the
senses is the description of the flowers and plants in the embalmed darkness of the forest and
of the white hawthorn, fast fading violets, mask rose, mid-may’s eldest child etc. These are
concrete pictures which the reader can see easily with his inward eye and derive an aesthetic
satisfaction.

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 Allied to his sensuousness is the love of nature, again an aspect of romanticism revealed
in this poem. The Nightingale’s song is dear to the poet. Nothing can surpass the delicate
beauty of the heavenly light that falls when blown by the breezes, on the ‘verdurous glooms’
and ‘winding mossy ways’. In this ode as in several others, we find a note of sadness, in the
background of the music of Nature and Art. Melancholy is again a romantic quality. Stanza
III depicts the pain and misery of life and transitoriness of the things we value most—youth,
beauty and love. Keats sees this in contrast to the happiness of the nightingale’s world.
The last three lines of the Stanza VII, “The same that oft times hath/Charmed magic
casements, opening on the foam/Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn” breathe the spirit of
romance. Keats’s love of the sensuous luxury of the medieval atmosphere is also visible here.
It may also be noted that the poem is highly self revealing which is again a romantic
quality. With all these qualities, the poem finds a responsive echo in the hearts of the reader.
The poem is an expression of an intense personal mood of the poet, a sense of pity for
himself (presented obliquely) and sympathy for humanity, and as such it possesses much
human interest. It expresses a familiar mood, a desire for death, for release from this worldly
life of sorrow and struggle, from fever and fret of this life into the world of the nightingale
which to the poet is a world of lasting peace and happiness, of music, joy and beauty. Thus
we get a painful contrast between the world of Man and the world of the Nightingale. The
world of the Nightingale appeals to the poet for it is a world of richness and beauty, of deep
sensuousness and of natural loveliness.
The nightingale’s song becomes merely a peg on which to hang the varied wealth of the
poet’s mind, his sense of beauty, his sense of music and his sense of sadness arising out of the
transitoriness of human happiness and struggle of human life.
A critic says, ‘His mind is lifted out of the thought of pain by the song of the nightingale
which his imagination transmutes into the immortal voice of romance vibrating with all the
remembered melodies of the past. When the music is fled, his spirit turns for lonely back to
earth and seems to say to us, “Life with all its contradictions, pain and pleasure, beauty and
ugliness is still beautiful. It must be accepted or faced bravely.” (Mary Samuel)
A Critical Analysis of the “Ode”.
The poem consists of eight stanzas. In the first stanza we find the speaker ‘benumbed,
drained, as it were of all sensation through listening to the nightingale’s song’. Yet
paradoxically he experiences pain and heartache. Then he claims to share in the bird’s song.
The joy pain paradox, which he in his “Ode to Melancholy” asserts to be an essential
characteristic of human existence, has a deeper meaning in the context of the “Ode to a
Nightingale”. The poet’s (speaker’s) happiness in empathy with the bird is so intense and
profound that it verges on pain. Their painful happiness crosses all limits so he feels
exhausted and overcome by “drowsy numbness”. He is not envious of the bird’s ‘happy lot’,
he can imaginatively participate in it. He also realizes that his desire to join the nightingale
may be eventually thwarted; he cannot avoid ‘envy’ as he longs for ‘the unearthly felicity
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enjoyed by the “Dryad of the trees”. The happiness is caused by ‘the momentarily shared
ecstasy’, the pain is due to ‘the fore-knowledge of the ultimate frustration. Similarly
conscious cuts with pain across the drugged numbness of the opening lines before it
temporarily recedes to make room for the empathetic identification with the bird’s “full-
throated ease”.”
E.C. Pettet has demonstrated how the dull-half rhyming nasals of the opening quatrain,
interrupted by assonance of the a in aches and pains and modulating into clean ringing long e
and o sounds of trees, melodious beechen green and ‘full-throated ease” at the end of the
stanza, reflect the speaker’s pain and numbness in contrast with the bird’s happiness. The
Oxymoron of painful numbness and implied paradox of drugged happiness convey a peculiar
state completely cut off from reality, with the poet poised for the visionary flight.
The speaker in the next stanza explicitly mentions his impulse to journey into the happy
realm of the ‘nightingale and wine will be the vehicle. The poet’s throat wisher for a draught
of vintage”, which brings into play all the five senses. First we have ‘the complex
synaesthetic imagery which conjures up the warm mirthful song and dance of Provencal in
the cool taste and bubbling sound of the wine, and the seductive, sensual blushing of
Hippocrene. The imagery suggests that only through the life of senses one could journey into
transcendence. Note the blushful Hippocrene is the fountain of the everlasting Muses and
symbol of poetic inspiration. The speaker with the help of wine would like to journey the
realm of the immortals—the home of the Nightingale, away from the actual world.’
In the third stanza the speaker presents ‘the ode’s dialectic pattern by contrasting the
imagined ideal world with our temporal world of human wretchedness.’ Here in this world a
fatally ill youth like Torn Keats “with an exquisite love of life” falls into “a lingering state”.
(Keats’s Letters I, 293) and “grows pale and spectre thin and dies”. Some critics have
disparaged this stanza as “bad rhetoric” or attributed “weakness” to Keats for referring to his
brother’s death. But there is. nothing ‘wrong in depicting an incident for the object Of the
Ode is to present a symbolic conflict between the worlds of time and timelessness. In fact the
diction, imagery, symbolism, rhyme and “the prosaic matter of fact tone” of this “completely
disintoxicated and disenchanted stanza” (F.R. Leavis) dramatise the contrast between the
bird’s unself-conscious harmony with the natural surrounding (“among the leaves”) and
man’s awareness of transitoriness, disappointment, disease and death, which leads to his
alienation from his surroundings. The rhythmic flow of the line “what though amongst the
leaves hast never known” is disrupted with the cataloguing of human ills. “The weariness, the
fever, the fret” (Line reminds us of Wordsworth’s “Tintern Abbey” Lines 39-40, 52-53).
Here the word obstructs the fluent flow of the rhythm and diverts our attention to the human
transitoriness (“few sad, last grey hairs,” “pale and spectre thin and dies”). Why does the poet
desire to fade away, to dissolve, to forget? The poet would like to fade away into the
nightingale’s forest to overcome his “leaden eyed despair” his visionary flight would carry
him away from suffering mankind towards Dryad’s forest dim (1-20), the magic kingdom of

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Queen Moon and starry fays (36-37) or easeful Death (50). All these wishes are paradoxical
and futile quest for permanence and unconsciousness.
Keats from the very beginning of the Ode prepares the reader for his equivocal death-
wish. We have numbness, hemlock, letheward movement in stanza one, then the desire “to
dissolve and quite forget”(line 21) and “the embalmed darkness” (43) leaf-buried “fast fading
violets” of a landscape not seen but felt, a half-supernatural bower (Stanza 5). In this stanza
the poet penetrates into the essence of things with his imaginative power and gives us a
picture of transcendence as if the “happiness on Earth” experienced in the first stanza were
here “repeated in a finer tone” (Keats’s letters I 185).
The poet dreams of an easeful painless transition to a higher mode of existence—the
presentation of the easeful death differs from the description of the frightening palsy ridden
old age, or spectre thin youth or consumptive patients in the second stanza. Death would
“take into the air” the poet’s “quiet breath” while “the nightingale is pouring forth (its) soul
abroad/In such an ecstasy”. Death seems ‘rich’ for the poet would die into the eternal music.
Note death only seems ‘rich’. Although in line 35 the poet claims “Already with thee”, but he
had never left the earth, he has perhaps been entrancingly gazing at the direction of the song
for here his dull consecutively reasoning brain in a brutal truncating monosyllable tells him
that in death he would “become a sod”.
The recollection of the earth bound condition ending in the silence of death once again
stirs the speaker to contemplate on the music of the bird, which he is still hearing and he
describes the nightingale as ‘Immortal’. “Thou was not born for death, Immortal Bird”.
Critics have been debating why Keats has addressed the nightingale as Immortal bird Is the
nightingale immortal because “of its imperishable song” (Colvin), because it stands for its
species (Lowell) because it is a Dryad (Garrod), because it symbolises poetry (Muir) or art
(Hough) or because it lacks “man’s self consciousness” and is “in harmony with its world”
(Brooks and Warren). Andrew J. Kappel finds its immortality in its “native naturalness” and
its “obliviousness to transience”.
Ruth’s home sickness is not mentioned in the Bible. Many critics agree with Garrod who
suggests that the idea of a home sick gleaner is derived from Wordsworth’s The Solitary
Reaper. Victor J. Lams finds the influence of Milton’s nightingale on the lines. Ruth’s
homesickness and alienation underlines the natural feeling of estrangement one experiences
in an ‘alien’ land. “Just as the nightingale’s immortality fills the void left by Keats’s
recognition of his own mortality, so Ruth sick for home standing ‘in tears amid the alien
corn’ mirrors the poet’s need for perfect union with the ideal other, his yearning for the
nightingale’s harmony with its environment, and his estrangement from the natural world in
which the unconsciousness grain achieves fulfillment by being harvested.”
By presenting fancy as “a deceiving elf’ the speaker prepares himself to accept nature’s
cyclical process of death (fading violets) and birth (the coming musk rose) depicted in stanza
five. The recognition of the inevitability of change, of death does not stop his yearning for

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immortality. He ends the Ode with a question—was he dreaming or sleeping. In the “Ode to
A Nightingale” the speaker remains baffled by the burden of the mystery and the painful gulf
between eternity (immortality) and an impermanent realm in which old age wastes
generations hungry for permanence and perfection. Both in “La Belle” and “the Nightingale”
the protagonist is driven back from a transcendental world to sordid actuality. (adapted).

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 (ii) Ode on a Grecian Urn
Ankita Sethi

Learning Objectives
The objective of reading this lesson is to enable the student to:
 Understand and appreciate Romantic poetry
 Critically engage with the genre, form, themes and literary devices used in the
Romantic era
 Comprehend the attitude of the poet towards art
About the Poem
Written by John Keats in the year 1819, the poem Ode to a Grecian Urn describes the
curiosity and fascination of the speaker for the Grecian urn. The poets raises a number of
questions on themes like art, beauty and immortality. Inspired by his visits at the British
museum and witnessing the aesthetics of the Grecian urns, the poem idealizes beauty which
remains to be the highest and the eternal truth. The images on the urn and its depiction by the
poet, represent the complex nature of art and the innate contradictions.
Stanza 1
Thou still unravish’d bride of quietness,
Thou foster-child of silence and slow time,
Sylvan historian, who canst thus express
A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme:
What leaf-fring’d legend haunts about thy shape
Of deities or mortals, or of both,
In Tempe or the dales of Arcady?
What men or gods are these? What maidens loth?
What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?
What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?

The poem begins with Keats addressing the Grecian urn as ‘the unravish’d bride of quietness’
which immediately establishes the urn as an object to whom poet’s reflections are directed. In
the first stanza, the poet is speaking to the urn and addresses it as an offspring of silence and
slow time. The urn is a result of an artist’s skill and creativity on a piece of stone. The aging
process of earth is much slower and in a way it projects the illusion of ageless continuity,
whereas art itself exists on a plane which is beyond the temporal. Thus, the poet sees it as an
eternal object of art unaffected by decay. The poet also addresses it as a Sylvan Historian, the
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etymology of this word comes from ‘Silvanus’ the Roman god of forests. It has been
addressed as a peaceful and pleasant historian who is recounting a tale of a distant past
through pictorial language on its body. Keats plays with the ambiguity of the narrative and
represents a mere ambiguous outline of men chasing women. It must be noted that ancient
Greece wine jars also called amphora, depict many mythological and legendary tales
including chase and seduction of women by men.
Self- Check Questions
Q1: What has the urn been referred to?
Q2: How does the urn became an object of poet’s reflections?
Stanza 2
Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;
Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear’d,
Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone:
Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave
Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;
Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss,
Though winning near the goal yet, do not grieve;
She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,
For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!

The theme of ambiguity develops further in this stanza. The writer does not define the images
in the strictest sense and reiterates his approach with the same subtlety. ‘Heard melodies are
sweet, but those unheard are sweeter’, connotes that anything that attracts our physical senses
is definitely beautiful and sensuous, but the ones that appeal to our soul or deeper
consciousness are invisible to the senses and are metaphysical in nature. The ode’s focus is
mainly on art, beauty, love, transcendence and eternity. These ideas are enumerated in the
second part of the second stanza when he addresses the bold lover who cannot kiss his
timeless beloved as she exists beyond the temporal plane, the same way the Grecian Urn
exists. However, the urn represents art as timeless, whereas the beloved represents love or
lover as eternal. Keats also subtly conveys paradox as a metanarrative; the lover cannot kiss
his beloved, thus unable to bring fruition or consummation of their love yet it stays eternal. In
the same way, in the first stanza, the pictures of men chasing women convey motion and yet
they never seem to get hold of any of them. Both are representations of objects/ideas frozen
in time.

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Self- Check Questions
Q1: What is the relevance of the phrase ‘those unheard are sweeter’ in context of the poem?
Q2: How has the beloved been compared to the urn?
Stanza 3
Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed
Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu;
And, happy melodist, unwearied,
For ever piping songs for ever new;
More happy love! more happy, happy love!
For ever warm and still to be enjoy’d,
For ever panting, and for ever young;
All breathing human passion far above,
That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy’d,
A burning forehead, and a parching tongue.

The poet keeps addressing things and people so as to bring the wider themes to the reader. In
the third stanza Keats talks to a tree who doesn’t bid the Spring adieu by holding on to its
leaves. The imagery of frozen in time is maintained throughout and especially in three lines
which repeatedly use words ‘forever’ referring to the paradoxical and timeless idea of art,
beauty and love as symbolized in the ‘unheard melodies’. However, a novel paradox arises;
since everything is timeless, everything is youthful and motionless. This living-death
confounds Keats and he tries to reach a resolution in the next stanza by introducing a new
perspective.
Stanza 4
Who are these coming to the sacrifice?
To what green altar, O mysterious priest,
Lead’st thou that heifer lowing at the skies,
And all her silken flanks with garlands drest?
What little town by river or sea shore,
Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel,
Is emptied of this folk, this pious morn?
And, little town, thy streets for evermore
Will silent be; and not a soul to tell
Why thou art desolate, can e’er return.

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Keats now takes into account the idea of sacrifice as expressed in the paintings by Claude
Lorrain and Raphael. The poet imagines the crowd of citizens and speculates whether such a
place exists outside the realm of art. He now challenges art itself for its limiting beliefs but
arrives at a conclusion that one can never ascertain the credibility, location or existence of the
subject concerned. Thus the questions remain without any possibility of a definite answer.
Stanza 5
O Attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede
Of marble men and maidens overwrought,
With forest branches and the trodden weed;
Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought
As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral!
When old age shall this generation waste,
Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe
Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say’st,
“Beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.”

Thus, Keats comes back to subject of his poem, the Grecian urn and declares it being a work
of timeless art. Since it is timeless, it is cold and distant from mortal and ageing human
beings. Its existence as an object of eternity is incomprehensible to the mortal beings. Despite
that, it was shaped with emotions by a human being and the urn will be able to instruct
humanity like a ‘historian’. It becomes an ambiguous task for the reader, to find whether in
the conclusion, the Grecian urn is a mouthpiece of the poet who explicates his philosophy or
is simply recounting romantic ideal ‘beauty is truth, truth beauty’. In fact, one doesn’t really
know if it is Keats interacting with the urn or if it is the reader interacting with the work of
art.
Self-Check Questions
Q1: What according to the poet is the function of art?
Q2: What did you understand by the concluding lines of this poem?
Q3: What do you understand by ageless continuity in context of the poem?

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 (iii) Ode to Autumn
Mary Samuel

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,

Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.

Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?

Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy. hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap’d furrow sound asleep,
Drows’d with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.
Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,
—While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
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 Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.

A Study of the Poem

Introduction
In his spring Odes written in 1819 Keats deals with the themes of the inevitability of change
and death. He reveals that we can imaginatively create a world of permanent joy and beauty,
but this visionary world is not `eternal’, since imagination or poetic fancy is a deceiving elf.
We are soon transported to the real world of mutability, hardships and changeability. The
theme of inevitable change is once again taken up in the To Autumn. Keats gives a
naturalistic answer to the questions posed about the changeability in the spring Odes and the
Fall of Hyperion.
In a Letter of 21st September 1819, Keats writes: “How beautiful the scene is now—
How fine the air. A temperate sharpness about it. Really, without joking, chaste weather—
Dian skies—I never liked stubble fields so much as now—Any better than the chilly green of
the spring. Somehow a stubble plain looks warm—in the same way that some pictures look
warm—this struck me so much in my Sunday’s walk that I composed a poem.” (Letter II,
167)
The pictures of warm autumn with its stubbles inspired Keats to write “To Autumn.”
Except in the letter Dian skies, there is no reference to classical myths in the poem. The poem
presents ‘a calmer response to beauty than the May Odes.’ In the May Odes (Spring Odes)
we are all the time aware of the ‘personal’ presence of the poet but in To Autumn the poet’s
personality is submerged in the evocation of the season. The poet graciously accepts the
beauty of Autumn without probing the meaning of its transcience.
`To Autumn” is considered to be a perfect poem because of its “flawless technique, its
richness of imagery and its breadth of gaze within the limits of its subject” (Deryun
Chatwin—Notes on Keats’s Poetry and Prose).
To Keats Autumn is ‘the time of fulfillment, plentitude and harvest. The whole poem is
structured in answer to the question posed at the beginning of the third stanza, “Where are the
songs of spring? Ay, where are they?” This powerful threat to the celebration of autumn calls
up the alternative image of autumn as the melancholy precursor of winter and death. The
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Ode’s reply is silently argued through its images and its plot. The annual cycle of the seasons,
the movement from rebirth to death, is as natural to man as it is to nature. Without autumn’s
movement into winter there could be no spring. Human and natural life are intrinsically tied
to the pattern of the change and renewal. Autumn’s beauty is particular, to itself, dependent
upon the fact that it is neither winter, spring, nor summer. Hence “thou hast thy music too”.
(John Bernard—John Keats)
The Poem
The poem consists of three stanzas, each depicting a particular aspect or picture of autumn—
its beginning to its end. The plot develops from the preharvest ripeness (stanza one) to the
contented country side human beings busy in ‘harvesting’ (stanza two) and concludes with
the poignant emptiness following the completion of the harvest. Each stanza shows one phase
of autumn and nature in a different relationship to mankind.
The opening line—“season of mists and mellow fruitfulness”—sums up the character of
autumn. Autumn is a ‘productive’ season, a season of ‘ripeness’ and `maturity’—
‘mellowness’. And its mists herald the approach of cold and damp winter season. The first
stanza is loaded with meanings. Autumn is “the season of mists and mellow fruitfulness”,
conspires with the “maturing sun” to fill “all the fruit with ripeness to the core.” The sun and
the Autumn are “close bosom friends” so they secretly conspire to fill the fruits to the core.
The maturing sun may be considered a male figure and “Autumn” a female—they
mysteriously conspire to overload fruit and flowers. There is no indication of the presence of
human beings although the thatch eves, the moss’d Cottage-trees, gourd and bees point to the
houses of the inhabitants who might have planted these trees earlier. But it is the mysterious
conspiracy of the sun and the autumn which loads and blesses with fruit the vines, bends the
cottage-trees with apples and fills all fruit with ripeness to the core. The poet has
predominantly used tactile imagery to highlight natures’ strange power to “plump” and
“swell” the vegetable world. Thus the first stanza is crammed with images suggesting
plentifulness and fullness of vegetation—“load”, “bend”, “swell”, “plumps”—we get an
insight into the fullness and ripeness to the core—of the hazel nuts. The seemingly endless
budding of flowers is also a result of the conspiracy. The bees are befooled. They think that
the summer will never end as if they pay no attention to the mist. “For summer has o’er
brimmed their clammy cells.”
The first stanza has skillfully presented the high autumn. Commenting on the first stanza
Brian Stone in his The Poetry of Keats observes. ‘It (the poem) begins with a a subdued
apostrophe to Autumn: subdued because the personification goes only as far as suggesting a
conspiracy with the sun to work for ripeness. And for the rest of the first stanza ripeness, as
conveyed chiefly by a succession of powerful and simple verbs, is all. The vines are loaded
with fruit the trees are bent by the weight of the apples, gourds are swelled, hazel shells
plumped, and late flowers budded for the bees, whose clammy cells are accordingly over
brimmed. The concentration on what happens inside small natural growths such as fruits,
nuts, and flowers impresses fullness, sweetness and warmth upon the mind, with an interior
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sense of nature’s plentitude. The human work of the season, the exterior physical scene, the
sky above, are yet to come.”
The scene of stanza one is a cottage garden. The intimacy of the setting is suggested by
“close-bosom friend” and by the image of the bees’ clammy cells. It appears to be “a small,
tightly knit world.”
There is mobility in time and space as we go from stanza to stanza “The poem moves
outwards in space and time” The first stanza also suggests morning in the reference to mists,
but in the next stanza we come across the langour of mid-day heat. From the cottage the
poem moves to the wider, yet limited’, span of space—to the fields, the granary, the cider
press etc. The second stanza concentrates on human activities associated with the ripeness
and abundance of the autumn. In the early hours of the day—nature has been actively
engaged in producing abundant fruits, flowers and warmth. Now it is noon time. Autumn is
presented ‘as four figures completing harvest tasks.’ They are apparently English farmers but
symbolically they stand for ‘the beneficent co-operation between natural and human activity
which leads to harvest’ (John Barnard). The picture of the four human figures creates the
poem’s “pastoral idyll”. There is some sort of ambiguity about these figures—whether they
are men or women or both. There is one characteristic common to at least three of them that
is, “a kind of beautiful lethargy, compounded of repletion and ecstatic acceptance of their
roles in the fulfilment of the season.” (Brian Stone).
The first figure is perhaps that of a woman, ‘sitting carelessly on the granary floor, Her
hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind’. ‘Soft’ is used to frame a compound world—soft-
lifted, once again we have soft in the third stanza “soft-dying day.” ‘Soft is a word of
harmonious warmth.’ The second figure is presumably that of a man who is asleep “on a half-
reaped furrow” “drowsed with the fume of the poppies.” He is so much drugged that he
cannot finish the job. If the two figures are pictures of the “blissful lethargy,” the third one—
a gleaner (apparently a woman for women and children usually did the gleaning when the
reaping was completed) is pictured walking on the bridge across a brook, trying to balance
herself so that the load on her head does not fall down. The last figure could be a man or a
woman. The figure is patiently and leisurely watching the oozings from a cyder press. ‘All
these figures are ordinary human beings at their autumn occupations.’
It is interesting that the reaper is depicted with a hook not with a scythe. This description
associates the figure with the eighteenth century portrayals of Autumn as a man with a sickle,
while the poppies in the cornfield `suggest the presence of Ceres, the Roman goddess of corn
and harvests.’ (John Barnard.) The reaper is sound asleep not because he is exhausted with
work but because he is drugged by poppies ‘is arrested in mid action and thus Autumn has
generously stopped the destruction of the beauty of “the next swath and all its twined flower.”
With the exception of the gleaner other figures are inactive and satiated.’ John Barnard).
‘The stanza two stresses the role of nature. The wind not only winnows. the grain, but
also idly lifts the sleeper’s hair, the poppies drug the reaper, the cider-press’s “last oozings

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hours by hours” seems to be ‘more accomplished by the fruits themselves than by any human
intervention. Human labour of harvesting is dependent on nature’s generosity for its
accomplishment the stanza abounds in visual imagery—pictorial presentation of activities.’
In the third stanza we move towards evening and setting sun and our attention is focused
on the distant land and the sky.’ The shift is from human beings to autumn’s music. The
stanza takes us to the evening when we observe the “barred clouds bloom the soft-dying
day/And touch the stubble plains with rosy hue.” It is not `a maturing sun’ of the morning it
is the soft-dying day—the time sequence runs from morning to evening, from early to late
autumn, from the maturity of the fruits on trees to the gathering and reaping of harvest, to the
evening when only stubbles are left in the fields—on the plains. The sounds of non-human life
could be heard. The music of autumn ranges from “the wailful choir of gnats” to the bleatings
of “the full-grown lambs”—the music includes ‘the sounds of natural life, beyond man’s
control and the animals reared by human beings. The robin whistling from a “garden croft” is
something between the wild and the tame. Swallows twittering away indicate the temporary
loss of something beautiful they build their nests in buildings to which they return annually,
but now they are flying away.’ If swallows remind us of the pattern of loss and return which
governs both human and non human life, the full grown lambs represent ‘the inevitable return
of spring and renewal of life.’ In the third stanza the auditory imagery has been used.
Commenting on the third stanza Brian Stone says “The poem lifts from the serenely swelling
and sweetening of the insides of fruits, nuts and flowers in the first stanza, to the human
efforts to store the autumnal plentitude made possible by nature in the second stanza. In the
third stanza it must lift again, not only to universalise and consolidate these two experiences,
but to take the reader into the acceptance of autumn’s essential farewell, with its suggestion
of death. It must do that by uniting the supernal—in the process of time, in the ineluctable
change of sky and earth, and in the threat of barrenness in the coming winter—with the
natural and physical—in the form of the cropped fields of stubble, the creatures now strong
and mature, which were born naked and feeble in the spring, the insects whose thriving
existence is due to the superabundance of autumnal warmth and food supply, and the birds,
some of which like the robins, will face out the coming winter, and others which, like the
swallows will leave for summery places in huge flocks, to return when winter is gone.
Keats’s device for this is two-fold: he opens out from the local human scene of the second
stanza to the natural perimeters of the English rural world, with its skies, clouds,, winds, hills
and rivers; and he does this largely, but not exclusively, by sound symphonies which
complement the visual symphonies of the second Stanza I.
In the first four lines of the stanza two or more senses have been synthesised. The “rosy”
reflection of sunlit evening clouds (the barred clouds) can be seen on the stubble-plains. Their
visual effect is described as `music’ associating it with the first, two lines. To this ‘imagined
music’ is added the music of mourning gnats, full grown bleating lambs, singing crickets,
whistling robins and twittering swallows. Twitter and whistle-the two onomatopoeic words
make the last lines more poignant with “the notion of departure and possibly death”. To
Autumn is a. profound lyric.
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 In To Autumn Keats has added a line to the ten-line of the Spring Odes and made a
couplet before the final line. The poem uses eleven-line regular iambic pentameter rhymes in
each stanza. The rhyme scheme is abab cd ed cce. The poet gives ‘a rounded power’ to the
rhythm of each stanza statement in the poem, the whole of which is unassailably tranquil.
“The first stanza is all direct maturing plentitude, the second personifies Autumn at work in
that plentitude; and the third is an evocation of the air and sky above the autumnal scene, in
which the sounds of birds and insects predominate, making a kind of sung elegy for the end
of the harvest.”
The language is simple, more mono-syllablic and Saxon, full of vowels and clusters of
consonants, so one has to go slowly. Beginning with the phrases such as “close bosom
friend,” “mossed cottage-trees”, with a sweet kernal to “until they think warm days,” we have
‘a meditative slowness of utterance’. The slowness of utterance is a characteristic of “La
Belle Dame Sans Merci” also.
The poem appeals to the senses, it is ‘made up of the sights, sounds, scents and particular
feel of things which Keats evokes.’ ‘Alliteration is used effectively. `P’ sound in stanza one
suggests ripeness to the core and fullness to bursting, ‘f” and ‘w’ sounds are used for the light
wind in the next and ‘z’ sound in ‘oozing’ brings before our eyes the picture of juice of the
apple dripping drop by drop slowly and leisurely into the vessel from the cider-press. Keats
deliberately ends a line with a little pause to stress the opening of the next line.
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook.
The-pause after ‘keep’ and the emphasis on “steady” make us feel the efforts of the
gleaner to balance herself and to save herself and her bundle from toppling into the water.
The rise and fall of the cloud of gnats synchronise with the rise and fall of the verse at the end
of one line and beginning of the next.
Among the river swallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies.
The poem uses concrete images and personification has been used with great subtlety
creating an intimate relationship between the season and the poet. Autumn, being a close
bosom friend of the conspiring sun, loads, blesses, bends, fills, plumps etc. It is a benevolent
deity blessing the earth with plentitude. In the next stanza Autumn appears as human beings
engaged in various activities. The poet addresses Autumn in the third stanza “think not” of
“the songs of springs “for” thou hast thou music too”. But by the time we reach the end of the
poem the Autumn flies away like the frittering swallows. “The nostalgic effect is created with
the description of the ‘soft dying day’ and the end of the season. But the note of hope for the
renewal is also implicit for the swallows will return in due course of time, the revolution of
the seasons is a continuing process.”

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Study Notes
Most critics consider “Ode to Autumn” as the most perfect of Keats’ Odes. The year 1819,
when Keats wrote his best poetry and all his great Odes, was a time of great stress and strain
and sorrows and suffering for him. In August of the same year, he moved to Winchester from
London in quest of some .peace and calm and found it in reading and writing and even more
in the beauty of Nature which was spread all around him. It was his custom to have long
walks around the fields and meadows after a morning’s intense compo.sition and reading and
writing. He describes the clean, unbroken autumn weather and the beautiful shapes and
scenes of nature he found in his walks, in a letter to his friend Reynolds:
“How beautiful the season is now. How fine the air. A temperate sharpness about it...I
never liked the stubble fields so much as now. Aye, better than the chilly green of the spring.
Somehow a stubblefield looks warm in the same way as some pictures are warm...this struck
me so much in my Sunday walk that I composed upon it.
The Ode to Autumn was the poem that he had composed, which is much lovelier an echo
of his own above description of fine weather and the beauty of the Autumn morning. It was
the last great Ode and the last great poem that he was ever to write.
Stanza I
Autumn in northern climates is the harvest season. Instead of the clear days of spring, autumn
days are often misty. The opening line characterises the season. The line is an address to
Autumn, here thought of as a person. Note the alliteration in L.1, the ‘m’ in mists’ and
mellow’ links the soft, misty character of Autumn skies with the soft, juicy sweetness of ripe,
autumn fruit: the ‘n’ in the ‘season’ and ‘fruitfulness’ links the two words.
Lines 2-9 express the idea that the season i.e. Autumn and the warm sun help each other
to produce flowers and fruits in abundance.
bosom-friend: intimate friend.
Maturing: ripening, bringing to fruition or full growth.
conspiring: joining together.in a plot, used here playfully. The plot here is to bring about
a profusion of fruit and flower.
bless: the word indicates the beneficent quality of the sun and the season to endow vines
and trees with fruit and plants and creepers with flower.
vine: the creeper that bears grapes.
thatch-eves: over-hanging edges of the thatched roofs.
core: centre, inner-most part, the fruit is fully ripe, not half ripe.
L.7. Note the careful selection of the words, ‘swell’ to describe the round shape of the
gourd and ‘plump’ to suggest the softness and juiciness of the hazel nut.
plump: used here as a verb meaning to fatten.
hazel: hazel nuts.
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 kernal: Soft, edible part inside the hard shell of hazel-nut.
later-flowers: summer, the season of flowers is over, but early Autumn is still warm
enough for flowers to bloom.
clammy: sticky.
The first stanza gives a detailed description of the scene that Keats had seen in his walk. It
describes Autumn country-side. The next stanza depicts the activities during this season.
Stanza II
Here the activities characteristic of the country side in Autumn are described. Autumn has
been personified Autumn is depicted both as a man and a woman going through the various
processes of harvesting that a typical peasant would be carrying out.
careless: relaxed, free from cares.
L.15. Autumn is sitting at ease in her granary.
winnowing: it is the process by which grain is separated from the chaff after threshing,
that loosens the chaff from the grain.
soft-lifted: moved gently by the breeze.
LL 16-17. Autumn is seen in another aspect. Autumn is out in the field where the corn is
being cut.
half-reaped: half cut (corn) with a sickle.
drows’d: put to sleep. Poppies are often found growing with the wheat. Autumn half-way
through reaping is over-come with the fragrance of the poppy flowers, and falls asleep on the
furrow. Opium is extracted from the poppy flowers—here the fragrance of the poppies is
shown having a sleep producing effect.
Furrow: long, deep cut in the ground made by a plough.
hook: sickle for cutting the corn.
swath: ridge of grass, barley wheat etc. lying after being cut.
L-18. Half the corn is cut on the furrow, the rest with which the poppy flowers are twined
are spared for the moment while Autumn has fallen asleep.
LL.19-20. Another activity of harvesting is described here. Autumn has been busy
gleaning. Gleaning is the gathering of the ears of corn that are left behind after reaping is
complete. Peasant women gather for their own use what the reapers have left behind.
Autumn, seen as the gleaner here carefully walks with the bundle of corn on her head, over
the stepping stones or a narrow bridge across the little stream, on her way home. A lovely
picture of a woman balancing a load on her head.
L.21-22. Here the poet takes us where the ripe apples that have been gathered are being
squeezed in a machine to make cider (drink made from apples) Autumn is seen patiently
standing and waiting, watching the last drops to fall from the cider-press (machine for
pressing juice from apples) into the vats where they are collected.
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 L.22 Note the slow, lingering movement of the line: ‘Thou watchest, the last oozings
hours by hours.’ There are six long sounds here and only four short. You really get an idea of
the long and patient waiting of the Autumn standing by the cider press, watching the last
drops of the juice slowly falling one by one.
Stanza III
This stanza, like the second, opens with a question. But unlike the question opening the
second stanza, which is expressive of happy eagerness, here the question is suggestive of
sadness. The poet knows that the songs of spring are no more to be heard. Spring is a symbol
of new birth. Now the year is old, nearing its end. The cycle of birth (spring) growth
(summer) ripening (Autumn) is complete. The last ear of corn and the last fruit are gathered.
The dark and cold days of winter are drawing near when nothing grows, no flowers bloom
and no birds sing.
L.24 But the poet suppresses these questions and apprehensions. He cannot allow himself
to think beyond his bourn. Perhaps like Shelley he consoles himself with the thought that:
‘If winter comes, can spring be far behind’,
And after winter there is the spring again, and the cycle starts again. What is real now is
the present moment which he means to live in and enjoy without looking ‘before or after’.
For Autumn too has its own ‘beauty and music, though different from that of Spring or
Summer.
barred clouds: streaky clouds, clouds that gather at sunset in long lines or ‘bars’ above
the west. Clouds through which the sunrays pass.
bloom: touch with colour, a beautifully suggestive word evoking memories of flowers.
Soft-dying day: long twilight of northern climates is referred to here. The twilight lingers
and fades away slowly, not suddenly as in the tropical regions where the darkness descends
as soon as the sun sets.
the stubble plains: the fully reaped fields left with only the stumps of the wheat plants
sticking up after the harvest. Their yellow and brown colour is made rosy by the touch of the
soft rays of the setting sun, giving • them a beauty and a warmth Keats described in his letter
to Reynold.
wailful choir: the mournful orchestra of nature. The music i.e. the sounds of late Autumn
are described in clear and concrete terms. The sounds of the gnats, full-grown lambs, hedge
crickets and the red-breasts and swallows are not joyous but sad and low. Hence wailful
choir.
sallows: a kind of low-growing willow tree. The willow is a symbol of mourning and the
mournful sounds of gnats produce the effect of sadness.
Lines 28-29 the sound is carried by the breeze and comes to the ear by fits and starts.
Borne aloft: carried over.
sinking: fading out, becoming inaudible.

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 bourn: boundary The lambs are bleating in the distance where they are enclosed for the
night in their pens.
hedge crickets: insects like grass-hoppers that chirp in the hedges.
treble: high-pitched sound.
the red breast: Robin red breast, a common bird in England; brown all over except for a
red patch on the breast. It does not migrate.
garden croft: a small, enclosed garden adjoining a house.
Line 33. The line indicates that this is the end of Autumn. The approach of winter is
clearly shown by the swallows getting ready to migrate to the warmer southern climates for
the winter.
Note again the careful choice of words. The words ‘wailful’, ‘mourn’ denote the exact
sounds made by gnats and hedge-crickets. The words ‘bleat’, `treble”whistle, `twitter’, all
describe thin sounds and these are the sounds of late Autumn so different from the clamorous
birds in spring and the rich sounds heard in summer, whet the nightingale and the lark sing
and the bees murmur and other happy animal noises fill the English country side.
7.04 Detailed Study of the Poem
Stanza I
Autumn is a season of mists and fogs. The opening stanza emphasises “mellow fruitfullness”.
It is early Autumn and mists hang in the air and fruits and vegetables and corn are ripened
and matured. Here, the poet sees Autumn not as an inanimate, abstract thing but as a person
endowed with human qualities.
Autumn is an intimate friend of the Sun that brings mellowness and maturity to
everything. It appears as if Autumn and the Sun have entered into a conspiracy and are
considering ways and means to load and bless the vine and moss covered trees with fruits in
such abundance that their branches may bend to the ground with their weight. They are
plotting together to ripen the fruits fully and to fatten the gourd and fill the hazel shell with
sweet kernel at the centre. They plan that more and more buds may bloom and blossom into
flowers so that the bees may get an illusion that summer will never come to an end and
flowers will never cease to bloom here as it is, their honey combs are already overflowing
with the honey they had collected during the summer. There is a touch of mischief in the
mutual conspiracy of Autumn and the Sun because they are causing a little worry to the tiny
creatures by their too much benevolence.
Note that we find picturesque descriptions throughout the stanza. We can see with little
effort the vine passing round the house-wall and bearing clusters of ripe grapes, the apple
trees in the cottage garden their stems green with emerald moss and their boughs bending
beneath their abundant burden; the swollen gourd, the hazel nut, the all ripe fruits and even
honey combs.

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Stanza II
In the second stanza, the scene changes completely. Autumn is again personified here. The
poet shows Autumn in different attractive forms and attitudes and aspects. The familiar
aspects and activities of the season are presented in a series of pictures. Picture after picture
follows as if on a cinema screen and we see Autumn as a youthful, lovely, peasant
man/woman engaged in various activities of the harvesting time.
Autumn is frequently seen as sitting on the floor of her granary in a carefree and relaxed
mood as if resting after a hard day’s work. We can almost see a look of satisfaction on her
face as she looks at her fully stored granary and there is a charm in her careless manner. The
soft breeze that helps in winnowing the corn, is playing with her golden hair, moving them
this way and that way caressingly. Here the chaff and the straw flying in the air is beautifully
compared to the golden hair of Autumn.
The scene changes and we find Autumn (as a reaper) fast asleep intoxicated by the balmy
perfume of the poppy flowers which are growing in the field intertwining their tender stems
with those of the wheat plants. The corn of the furrow on which he is lying asleep like a
sweet, innocent child is only half cut by him and his sickle is lying beside him, waiting for
the master to wake up and cut the remaining swath of the grain.
Again, we see Autumn in the form of a gleaner. She has gathered the ears of corn left by
the reapers and has made a bundle of them which she has put on her head. She is crossing a
stream on her way home, slowly and carefully stepping from one stone to the other which are
lying in the shallow stream, trying to balance the heavy load on her head. On another
occasion Autumn might also be seen standing by a cider-press, watching patiently, hour by
hour, the last drops of the apple juice, falling drop by drop into the vessel.
Thus we observe, whereas the first stanza describes the beauty of Autumn, the second
stanza displays Autumn itself. The familiar figures of the season are passed before us in a
series of pictures. The season has been first personified as a harvester during the winnowing.
Next the season has been personified as a tired reaper. This is very realistic. We seem to see
the slumbering labourer fallen asleep in the midst of his toil. Then the season has been
represented as a gleaner going home in the evening carrying a sheaf of corn on her head.
Lastly, the season has been represented as a cider-maker.
Stanza III
In the midst of these lovely scenes and pictures of Autumn, the poet suddenly misses the
songs of the spring. But the spring with its songs has long passed away. There is a pang of
regret. Is there a fear that Autumn with its golden joys and rosy warmth will vanish too? But
then why look before and after and pine for what is not or will not be. The Autumn with all
its charms is there at the moment. It is better to embrace this moment and drink its joy to the
last drop. The Autumn has its own music. As the streaks of the clouds in the west are touched
by the golden beauty of the setting sun and they impart a glow to the softly dying day and
bathe the stubble-plains in a rosy light, the band of the little musicians of Nature begin their
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sad but sweet music. There is the mournful sound of the gnats among the willows on the river
bank which is carried far and high by the breeze when it rises and sinks low when it stops
blowing. There is the sound of the bleating of the lambs coming from the distant hills where
they are enclosed in their pens for the night. The hedge crickets are singing and the soft sharp
whistling of the robin red-breast rises from a garden adjoining a house. There are swallows
which are filling the air with the sound of their twittering and are gathering in the sky to say
good-bye to Autumn and to England, to migrate to some far-off country for the coming
winter.
Thus we see in the third stanza, the music of Autumn is introduced in a scene of sun set
glory. The little birds, the small insects, the gurgling brook, the whistling winds, the gentle
breeze, the bleating lambs, in short small and big things of Nature are instruments of music
and contribute their share in Autumn also. So there is no need to regret about the spring with
its music that is gone.
7.05 An Analysis of the Poem
To Autumn, the last of the great Odes of Keats, is one of the most nearly perfect poems in
English. “In it now his disciplined powers of observation, imagination and craftsmanship
combine to immortalise in enduring beauty a mood of the poet as he responded to the
beauties of an Autumn day”. Ode to a Nightingale is less `perfect’ though a greater poem. In
it he cries out against the impermanence of beauty and happiness whereas in ‘To Autumn’ he
accepts this passing of beauty and joy and transitoriness of life bravely for the reason that
Keats is able to see it as part of a larger and richer permanence. This greater permanence is
the continuity of life itself. The rotation of the seasons offers this symbol of continuity that is
immediately satisfying.
The poem appears to be a superb specimen of analysis. In the three stanzas Keats
describes three stages of the season. Early, mid and late Autumn is described with a wealth of
details and with rich imagery. In the first stanza he presents before us a wealth of details of
the objects seen in Autumn with great clarity and concreteness. Here is earth’s glowing
abundance of fruits which are in the process of ripeness and fruition.
The rich imagery in the poem which is luxuriantly descriptive presents the moss covered
apple trees with their branches bending under the weight of fruit, the vines hanging tensely
under the heavy weight of grapes. Note that the words are chosen with great care to convey
the exact quality of the objects described. For example, if `swell and plump’ give the outward
signs of fatness and sweetness, sweet kernal vividly makes us feel the lusciousness within. In
other words one could almost see and touch the juicy, plump and soft fruit. Again the loaded
abundance is suggested by the heavy oozing of the honey in the last line ‘over brimmed
clammy cells’. There is so much oozing sweetness here that the honey-combs are insufficient
to hold it all.
The second stanza is the greatest example of personification in English poetry. The
element of personification that we find in the second stanza is really an influence of
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Hellenism. Keats’s ‘Hellenism’ consists in respect for form and classical grace, simplicity
and directness of expression and passion for beauty. All these qualities are perceptible in the
poem. Autumn is seen assuming the shape of people in various scenes typical of the season—
winnowing, reaping, gleaning, cider-making. With that intimacy and concreteness of detail
Keats presents Autumn! The last four lines of the 2nd stanza are fine instances of enactment.
Autumn now figures as a gleaner who is seen stepping across a small stream with a bundle of
corn on her head. The very movement of the gleaner can be visualised in the words, ‘keep’
and steady’.
The third stanza opens briefly by recalling the past. Despite Keats being under the spell
of the season of ripeness and fulfillment, the consciousness of its transience does not
altogether leave him. There is, in the midst of the joys of Autumn, a sudden pang of regret for
the lost beauties and music of the spring:
“Where are the songs of spring? Ay where are they?”
Yet quietly and firmly Keats dismisses his regrets for the departed spring as merely vain:
“Think not of them, thou hast thy music too—“
So he shall enjoy the present beauty and the joy it gives.
Autumn also has its rich source of music and beauty. The dull, yellow and brown stubble
plain is lighted by the rays of the setting sun, making it beautiful. Then follows a concrete
description of the different sounds of Nature: the gnats mourn in a wailful choir, the lambs
bleat, the hedge crickets sing, the red-breast whistles and the gathering swallows twitter in the
skies. Note that Keats selects words which are highly suggestive e.g. ‘the barred clouds’, and
‘soft-dying day, etc.
All this indicates that Autumn is about to end and winter is fast approaching. But the
poet realises that there is nothing to regret as life goes on; the individual year may be drawing
to its end but there will be a new year to take its place. In other words, by now, Keats has
learnt to accept life as it is—a perpetual process of ripening, decay and death. He perceives
that reality in its totality despite its disagreeables, is beautiful. So with philosophical
resignation, Keats contents himself to the happiness of the moment momentary as is, and the
poem ends as Graham Hough puts it “with the quiet relapse of consciousness into the soft
natural loveliness that surrounds it”. Douglas Bush says, ‘In To Autumn Keats does not evade
or challenge actuality; he achieves by implication, ‘the top of sovereignty’, the will to neither
strive nor cry, the power to see and accept life as it is, a perpetual process of ripening, decay
and death”. The Odes of Keats are in fact supreme examples of Negative .capability, “when a
man is capable of being in uncertainties, mysteries, doubts without any irritable reaching after
fact and reason”.
You will notice that Keats looks at nature in a way different from Wordsworth.
Wordsworth (e.g. in the “Lines written above Tintern Abbey”) is more interested in recording
how the poet feels about Nature, what thoughts and emotions are roused in his mind by the

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beauty of Nature. Wordsworth is more subjective. Keats in To Autumn’ presents the scene
and its objects as he sees them, with great clarity and vividness. Unlike in Wordsworth, in
Keats, all the five senses are important and all five operate everywhere in and across his
poetry. This gives rise to that concreteness of imageryl which is associated with Keat’s
works.

4. Some Critical Views

Keats’s “Ode to a Nightingale”
(Cleanth Brooks)
This poem is essentially a reverie induced by the poet’s listening to the song of the
nightingale. In the first stanza the poet is just sinking into the reverie; in the last stanza, he
comes out of the reverie and back to a consciousness of the actual world in which he and all
other human beings live. The first lines of the poem and the last, therefore, constitute a sort of
frame for the reverie proper.
The poet has chosen to present his reverie largely in terms of imagery—imagery drawn
from nature—the flowers and leaves, etc., associated with the bird actually, or imaginatively
in myth and story. The images are elaborate and decorative and the poet dwells upon them
lovingly and leisurely, developing them in some detail as pictures. It is not the sort of method
that would suit a poem exhibiting a rapid and dramatic play of thought; but one remembers
the general character of the poem. The loving elaboration and slowed movement resemble the
slowed movement of meditative trance, or dream, and therefore is appropriate to the general
mood of this poem. The imagery, then, in its elaboration is not merely beautifully decorative,
but has a relation to the general temper of the whole poem.
The poet, with his desire to escape from the world of actuality, calls for a drink of wine
That I might drink, and leave the world unseen
but the wish for the draught of wine is half fancy. The poet lingers over the description of the
wine, making it an idealised and lovingly elaborated thing, too. We know that it is not a
serious and compelling request. The grammar of the passage itself tells us this: after “O, for a
draught of vintage!” the poet interposes seven lines of rich description identifying the wine
with the spirit of summer and pastoral joys and with the romantic associations of Provence,
and finally gives a concrete picture of a bubbling glass of the wine itself before he goes on to
tell us why he wishes the draught of wine.
The third stanza amplifies the desire to get away from the world of actuality. The word
fade in the last line of the second stanza is echoed in the next stanza in “Fade far away,
dissolve...“ The implication is that the poet wishes for a dissolution of himself; a wish that
later in the poem becomes an explicit pondering on death as something attractive and
desirable. The principal aspects of the actual world the poet would like to escape are just
those aspects of it that seem opposed to the world conjured up by the bird’s song: its feverish

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hurry, the fact that in it youth dies and beauty fades. The world that the nightingale seems to
inhabit is one of deathless youth and beauty. This idea, too, is to be developed explicitly by
the poet in the seventh stanza.
In the fourth stanza the poet apparently makes a sudden decision to attempt to leave
actual life and penetrate to the world of the imagination. The apparent suddenness of the
decision is reflected in the movement of the first line of the stanza,
Away! Away! For I will fly to thee
But he will fly to it by exciting his mind not with wine but with poetry. And in line 35
the poet. has apparently been successful: “already with thee,” he says. There follows down to
the opening of the sixth stanza a very rich description of the flowery, darkened thicket in
which the nightingale is singing.
The poet’s wish for dissolution, which he expresses in the third stanza, becomes in the
sixth a wish for death itself, an utter dissolution. But the idea as repeated receives an
additional twist. Earlier, his wish to fade away was a desire to escape the sorrow and
sordidness of the real world. Now even death itself seems to the poet an easy and attractive
thing; and, more than that, it seems even a sort of positive fulfillment to die to the sound of
the nightingale’s high requiem.
But the nightingale at the height of its singing does not seem to be subject to death. The
poet describes the effect of the nightingale’s song by two incidents drawn from the remote
past—as if he believed that the nightingale he now ‘hears had literally lived forever. The two
incidents are chosen also to illustrate two different aspects of the bird’s song. The first, the
song as heard by Ruth, is an incident taken from biblical literature, and gives the effect of
the song as it reminded the homesick girl of her native land. The second hinting at some
unnamed romance of the Middle Ages, gives the unearthly Magic of the song.
With the first word of the last stanza, the poet breaks out of his reverie. He catches up
the word “forlorn,” ‘which he has just used in ‘describing one of the imagined scenes
induced by his reverie, and suddenly realizes that it applies all too• accurately to himself.
The effect is almost that of an abrupt stumbling: the chance .employment of a particular
word in one of the richly imaginative scenes induced by the bird’s song suddenly comes
home to him—with altered weight and tone, of course—to remind him that it is he who is
forlorn, whose plight is hopeless. With the new and chilling meaning of “forlorn” the song
of the nightingale itself alters: what had a moment before been an ecstatic “high requiem”
becomes a “plaintive anthem.” The song becomes fainter: what had had power to make the
sorrowing man “fade...away” (lines 20, 21) from a harsh and bitter world, now itself
“fades” (line 75), and the speaker is left alone in the silence.
The vitality of the poem, of course, lies in its imagery. The imagery is so rich and
resonant, taken line by line. that it is a temptation to treat it as a amazingly rich decoration.
Consider, for example, the description of the wine in the second stanza. The poet uses the
term vintage rather than wine because of the associations of vintage with age and excellence.
It tastes of Flora (goddess of flowers) and the country green (a land predominantly fruitful
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 and rich) and of dance and Provencal song (associations with the merry country of the
troubadours and sunburnt mirth. Mirth cannot, of course,’ be literally sunburnt, but the
sensitive reader will not be troubled by this. The phrase is a condensation of the fuller
phrase: mirth of hearty folk who- live close to nature and to the earth and whose sunburnt
faces and arms indicate that they live in to nature. These associations of the wine with
Provence and with all that Provence implies are caught up and corroborated by another bold
and condensed phrase: “full of the warm South.” For the word South carries not only his
associations of warmth but also of the particular South that the poet has just been the south
of France.
This, for a rather inadequate account of only one item of the sort of description that fills
the poem. One who examines other of the poem’s passages in this way will notice that Keats
does not sacrifice sharpness of perception to mere pettiness. Again and again it is the sharp
and accurate observation that gives the richness a validity. For example,
The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine,
The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves
The passage is not merely beautiful and rich: it embodies acute observation. We feel that
the poet knows what he is talking about. A poorer poet would try only for the decorative
effect and would fail. Moreover, much of the suggestiveness resides, also in the choice of
precise details. Many a poet feels that, because the stimulus to the imagination makes for an
indefinite richness of association, this indefiniteness is aroused by vague, general description.
On the contrary, the force of association is greatest when it is aroused by precise detail. For
example; consider the passage most famous for its suggestiveness.
Charmed magic casements, opening on the foam
Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn
After all, these lines present a scene that is precisely visualized: If the casements
opening on the seas and framing the scene were omitted, the general, vague words, perilous,
faery, and forlorn, would not be sufficient to give the effect actually transmitted.
One may, however, read the “Ode to a Nightingale” at a deeper level. Indeed, if we are
to do full justice to the general architecture of the poem and to the intensity of many of the
individual passages, one must read it at this deeper level.
A basic problem—already hinted at in earlier paragraphs of this analysis—has to do
with the speaker’s attitude toward death. If he wishes to escape from a world overshadowed
by death, why then does he go on to conceive of that escape as a kind of death? The
nightingale’s song makes him yearn to leave a world where “youth grows pale...and dies.”
yet, as we remember, the highest rapture that he can conceive of is to die—“to cease upon
the midnight with no pain.” The last phrase, “with no pain,” offers only a superficial
resolution of our problem. We shall not find our answer in distinguishing between the

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 “easeful Death” of line 52 and some agonizing death. The speaker in this poem is not saying
merely that he would like to die if he could be sure that his death would be painless.
The death with which he falls “half in love” is not a negative thing, but is conceived of
as a rich and positive experience. To see how Keats brings this about will require a re-
examination of the whole poem. We might well begin with the beginning of the poem, for the
ambiguous relationship between life and death, joy and pain, intensity of feeling and numb
lack of feeling, runs through the poem, and is to he found even in the opening lines.
The song of the nightingale has a curious double effect. The speaker’s “heart aches”
through the very intensity of pleasure—by “being too happy in thy happiness.” But the song
also acts as an opiate, making the listener feel drowsy and numbed. Now, an opiate is used to
deaden pain, and the song of the bird does deaden (see stanzas three and four) the pain of the
mortal world in which “to think is to be full of sorrow.” A reader may be tempted therefore to
say that the nightingale’s song gives to the sorrowing man a little surcease from his
unhappiness. But the experience is more complex than this: the song itself causes the pain.
Thus, though the song means to the hearer life, freedom, and ease, its effect is to deaden him
and render him drowsy.
Are we to say, then, that the poet is confused in this first stanza? No, because the
apparent contradictions are meaningful and justified in terms of the poem as a whole. First, as
to the realistic basis of the opiate metaphor: the initial effect of a heavy opiate may be
painfully numbing. Second, as to the psychological basis: what is pleasurable, if carried to an
extreme degree, becomes painful. The nightingale’s song, which suggests a world beyond
mortality, gives the hearer happiness, but by reminding him of his own mortal state, gives
him pain. But the full implications of this paradox of pleasure-pain, life-death, immortal-
mortal require the whole of the poem for their full development.
We have commented upon what the speaker wishes to escape from; he has himself made
clear the primary obstacle to his escape. It is the “dull brain” that “perplexes and retards.”
The opiate, the draught of vintage for which the speaker has called, the free play of the
imagination—all have this in common: they release one from the tyranny of the “dull brain.”
The brain insists upon clarity and rigid order; it is an order that must be “dissolved” if the
speaker is to escape into, and merge with, the richer world for which he longs.
But the word that the speaker uses to describe this process is “fade,” and his entry into
this world of the imagination is symbolised by a fading into the rich darkness out of which
the nightingale sings. We associate darkness with death, but this darkness is instinct with the
most intense life. How is the darkness insisted upon—and thus defined? The nightingale
sings in a plot of “shadows numberless”; the speaker would leave the world “unseen” and
join the bird in “the forest dim”; he would “fade far away”—would “dissolve”; and when he
feels that he is actually with the nightingale, he is in a place of “verdurous glooms.”
Having attained to that place, he “cannot see.” Though the poem abounds in sensuous
detail, and appeals so powerfully to all the senses, most of the images of sight are fancied by

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the speaker. He does not actually see the Queen-Moon or the stars. He guesses at what
flowers are at his feet. He has found his way into a warm “embalmed darkness.” The last
adjective means primarily “filled with incense,” “sweet with balm,” but it must also have
suggested, death—in Keats’s day as well as in ours. In finding his way imaginatively into the
dark covert from which the bird is singing, the speaker has approached death. He has wished
to fade far away, “dissolve, and quite forget”; but the final dissolution and the ultimate
forgetting are death. True, death here is apprehended in a quite different fashion from the
death depicted in stanza three: here the balm is the natural perfume of growing flowers and
the gloom is “verdurous,” with suggestions of rich organic growth. But the fading has been
complete—he is completely encompassed with darkness.
It is worth remarking that Keats has described the flowery covert with full honesty. If his
primary emphasis is on fertility and growth, still he recognises that death and change have
their place here too: the violets, for instance, are thought of as “fast-fading.” But the
atmosphere of this world of nature is very different, to be sure, from that of the human world
haunted by death, where “men sit and hear each other groan.” The world of nature is a world
of cyclic change (the “seasonable month,” “the coming musk-rose,” etc.) and consequently
can seem fresh and immortal, like the bird whose song seems to be its spirit.
The poem, then, is not only about death and deathlessness, or about the actual and the
ideal; it is also about alienation and wholeness. It is man’s necessary alienation from nature
that invests death with its characteristic horror. To “dissolve”—to “fade”—into the warm
darkness is to merge into the eternal pattern of nature. Death itself becomes something
positive—a flowering—a fulfillment. Keats has underlined this suggestion very cunningly in
the sixth stanza. The ancients thought that at death, a man’s soul was breathed out with his
last breath. Here the nightingale is pouring forth its “soul” and at this high moment the man
listening in the darkness would be glad to die. Soul and breath become interchangeable. The
most intense expression of life (the Nightingale’s ecstatic sang) invites the listener to breathe
forth his soul (death).
The foregoing paragraphs may suggest the sense in which the speaker calls the
nightingale immortal. The nightingale symbolises the immortality of nature, which,
harmonious with itself remains through all its myriad changes unwearied and beautiful. We
need not suppose that the speaker, even in his tranced reverie, thinks of the particular
biological mechanism of flesh and bone and feathers as deathless—any more than he thinks
of the “fast-fading violets” and the “coming musk-rose” as unwithering. Keats has clearly
specified the sense in which the bird is immortal: it is in harmony with its world—not, as man
is, in competition with his (“No hungry generations tread thee down”); and the bird cannot
even conceive of its separation from the world which it knows and expresses and of which it
is a part (“Thou hast not born for death”). Man knows that he was born to die—“What thou
among the leaves hast never known”—and that knowledge overshadows man’s life, and
necessarily all his songs.

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 That knowledge overshadows this song, and gives it its special poignance. As the poem
ends, the speaker’s attempt to enter the world of the nightingale breaks down. The music by
means of which he hoped to flee from his mortal world has itself fled—“is that music.” The
music that almost succeeded in making him “fade far away” now itself “fades/Past the nearer
meadows” and in a moment is “buried deep/In the next valley-glades.” The word “buried”
here suggests a view of death very different from that conjured up by “embalmed darkness”
in the fifth stanza. Death here is bleak and negative. The poem has come full circle.
A Note
This essay on “Ode to A Nightingale” by Cleanth Brooks will enable you to understand (a)
the “Ode” as a “reverie” (b) its imagery and (c) its deeper meaning that is its themes—death
and deathlessness; the actual and the ideal; alienation and wholeness.

Critical Views on “To Autumn”

“To Autumn”—The poem opens with an apostrophe to the season, and with a description of
natural objects at their richest and ripest stage.
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness
Close bosom friend of the maturing sun,
…………………………………………….
For summer her o’er-brimmed their clammy cells.
(Quote* stanza 1)
The details about the fruit the flowers and the bees constitute a lush and colourful picture
of autumn and the effect of the “maturing sun.” In the final lines of the first stanza, however,
slight implications about the passage of time begin to operate. The flowers are called “later”,
the bees are assumed to think that “warm days will never cease and there is a reference to the
summer which has already past.
In the second stanza, an imaginative element enters the description, and we get a
personification of the season in several appropriate postures and settings.
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
………………………………………………
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by home”.
(Quote* stanza 2)
As this stanza proceeds, the implication of the descriptive details become increasingly
strong. For example, autumn is now seen, not as setting the flowers to budding, but as already
bringing some of them to an end, although it “Spares the next swath”. Autumn has become a
“gleaner”. The whole stanza presents the paradoxical qualities of autumn, its aspects both of
lingering and passing. This is especially true of the final image, Autumn is the season of
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dying as well as of fulfilling. Hence it is with “patient look” that she (or he?) watches “the
last oozings hours by hours”. Oozing, or a steady dripping, is, of course, not unfamiliar as a
symbol of the passage of time.
It is in the last stanza that the theme appears most conspicuously.
“Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,—
………………………………………………………..
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies”
(Quote stanza 3)
The opening question implies that the season of youth and rebirth, with its beauties of
sight and sound, has passed and that the season of autumn is passing but autumn, too, while it
lasts—“While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day”—has its beauties, its music, as
Keats’s poem demonstrates. The imagery of the last stanza contrasts significantly with that of
the first, and the final development of the poem adds meaning to its earlier portions. The
slight implications are confirmed. We may recall that “maturing” means aging and ending as
well as ripening. The earlier imagery is, of course, that of ripeness. But the final imagery is
more truly autumnal. The first words used to describe the music of autumn are “wailful” and
“mourn”. The opening stanza suggests the height of the day when the sun is strong and the
bees, are gathering honey from the blooming flower. But in the last stanza, after the passing
of “hours and hours”, we have “the soft-dying day,” the imagery of sunset and deepening
twilight, when the clouds impart their glow to the day and the plains. The transitive,
somewhat rare use of the verb “bloom,” with its spring like associations, is perhaps
surprising, and certainly appropriate and effective in , suggesting the tension of the theme in
picturing a beauty that is lingering, but only lingering. The conjunction of “rosy hue” and
“stubble-plains” has the same significant incongruity although the image is wholly
convincing and actual in its, reference. While the poem is more descriptive and suggestive
than dramatic, its latent theme of transitoriness and mortality is symbolically dramatised by
the passing course of the day. All these characteristics of the poem are to be found in the final
image. “And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.” Here we have the music of autumn.
And our attention is directed toward the darkening skies. Birds habitually gather in flocks
toward nightfall, particularly when they are preparing to fly south at the approach of winter.
But they are still gathering. The day, the season are “soft dying” and are both the reality and
the symbol of life as most intensely and poignantly beautiful when viewed from this
melancholy perspective.
This reading of “To Autumn” is obviously slanted in the direction of a theme which is
also found in other Odes. The theme is, of course, only a part of the poem, a kind of
dimension, or extension, which is almost concealed by other features of the poem,
particularly by the wealth of concrete descriptive detail...in “To Autumn” the season is the
subject and the details which describe and thus present the subject are also the medium by

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which the theme is explored...In “To Autumn” the theme inheres in the subject, and is at no
point stated in other terms. That is why we could say, in our reading of the poem, that the
subject “is both the reality and the symbol,” and to say now that the development of the
subject is, in a respect, the exploration of a theme.
The poem has an obvious structure in so far as it is a coherent description. Its structure,
however, is not simple in the sense of being merely continuous. For example, the course of
the day parallels the development of the poem. And an awareness of the theme gives even
greater significance to the structure, for the theme emerges with increasing clarity and
fullness throughout the poem until the very last line. Because the theme is always in the
process of merging without ever shaking off the medium in which it is developed, the several
parts of the poem have a relationship to each other beyond their progression in a single
direction. The gathering swallows return some borrowed meaning to the soft-dying day with
substantial interest, and the whole last stanza negotiates with the first in a similar
relationship.
...“To Autumn” shares a feature of development with the Odes “on the Nightingale” and
“the Grecian Urn”. Each of these poems begins with the presentation of realistic
circumstances, then moves into an imagined realm, and ends with a return to the realistic. In
“Ode to a Nightingale”, the most, clearly dramatic of the poems, the speaker, hearing the
song of the nightingale, wishes to fade with it “into the forest dim” and to forget the painful
realities of life. This wish is fulfilled in the fourth stanza—the speaker exclaims. “Already
with thee!” As the poem proceeds and while the imagined realm is maintained, the unpleasant
realities come back into view. From the transition that begins with the desire for “easeful
Death” and through the references to “hungry generation” and “the sad heart of Ruth”, the
imagined and the real, the beautiful and the melancholy, are held balanced against each other.
Then, on the word “forlorn”, the speaker turns away from the imagined, back to the real and
his “sole self’.
In the structural imaginative arc of the poem, (“Ode to A Nightingale”) the speaker is
returned to the “drowsy numbness” wherein he is awake to his own mortal lot and no longer
awake to the vision of beauty. Yet he knows that it is the same human melancholy which is in
the beauty of the bird’s “plaintive anthem” and in the truth of his renewed depression. His
way of stating this knowledge is to ask the question.
...The lush and realistic description of the first stanza (“To Autumn”) is followed by the
imagined picture of the autumn as a person, who, while a lovely part of a lively scene, is also
intent upon destroying it. The personification is dropped in the final stanza, and there is again
a realistic description, still beautiful but no longer lush, and suggesting an approaching
bleakness.
The imaginative aspect of structure which the three Odes (“Ode to A Nightingale”, “Ode
as A Grecian Urn” and “To Autumn”) have in common illustrates opinions which are in
accord with the thought of Keats’s times and which he occasionally expressed in his poetry.
The romantic poets’s pre-occupation with nature is proverbial, and there are a number of

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studies (e.g. Caldwell’s On Keats) relating their work and thought to the associationist
psychology which was current in their times. According to this psychology, all complex ideas
and all products of the imagination were, by the association of remembered sensations,
evolved from sensory experiences. Keats found their doctrine interesting and important not
because it led back to the mechanical functioning of the brain and the nervous system, but
because sensations led to the imagination and finally to myth and poetry, and the beauty of
nature was thus allied with the beauty of art. In the early poem, which begins,”
I stood tip-toe upon a little hill”, Keats suggests that the legends of classical mythology
were created by poets responding to the beauties of nature. ...Conspicuous throughout Keats’s
work, blended and adjusted according to his own temperament and for his own purposes, are
these donnees of his time: a theory of the imagination, the Romantic preoccupation with
nature, and the refreshed literary tradition of classical mythology. These are reflected by the
structure of his most successful poems, and are an element in their inter relatedness.
“To Autumn” is shorter than the other Odes, and simpler on the surface in several
respects. The nightingale sings of summer “in full-throated ease”, and the boughs in the
flowery tale on the Urn cannot shed their leaves “nor ever bid the spring adieu”. The world in
which the longer Odes have their setting is either young or in its prime, spring or summer.
Consequently, in these poems some directness of statement and a greater complexity are
necessary in order to develop the paradoxical theme, in order to penetrate deeply enough the
temple of delight and arrive at the sovran shrine of Melancholy. The Urn’s “happy melodist”
plays a song of spring, and the “self-same song” of the nightingale is of summer. One of
these songs has “no tone”, and the other is in either “a vision or a waking dream” for the
voice of the “immortal Bird” is “finally symbolised beyond the “sensual ear”. But the music
of autumn, the twittering of the swallows, remain realistic and literal, because the tensions of
Keats’s’ theme are implicit in the actual conditions of autumn, when beauty and melancholy
are merging on the very surface of reality. Keats’s genius was away from statement and
toward description, and in autumn he had the natural symbol for his meanings. It “To
Autumn” is shorter than the other Odes and less complex in its materials, it has the peculiar
distinction of great compression achiever in simple Urns. (An, extract from Leonard
Unger’s essay: Keats and the Music of Autumn)
(Source: The Man in the Name: Essay on the Experience of Poetry, Minneapolis, 1956)

Select Bibliography
1. The Romantic Poets: Graham Hough
2. The College Survey of English Literature: M. Wither Spoon.
3. A Preface to Keats—Cedric Watts.
4. Twentieth Century Views—Keats, A Collection of Critical Essays—edited by Walter
Jackson Bate.
5. John Keats: The Odes edited by A.R. Weekes.

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6. Keats: Odes Case book Series—Editor A.E. Dyson.
7. The Romantic Imagination: Maurice Bowra.
8. On the Poetry of Keats: E.C. Pettet.
9. Introduction to Keats: William Walsh.
10. Keats: H.W. Garrod.
11. John Keats: W.J. Bate.
12. Keats: John Barnard
13. The Poetry of Keats: Brian Stone

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