Excerpt from The Prelude: Or Growth of a Poet's Mind; An Autobiographical Poem
The gods talk in the breath of the woods,
They talk in the shaken pine,
And fill the long reach of the old seashore
With dialogue divine.
And the poet who overhears
Some random word they say,
Is the fated man of men
Whom the ages must obey.
It is interesting in our survey of the past to study the crises in the world's history, and notice how Providence has, by particular surroundings and education, prepared special men for special emergencies. Seers, prophets, and teachers have been divinely raised up to interpret the mind of God to men, the
Heroes, Sages, Bards sublime,
And all that fetched the flowing rhyme
From genuine springs.
In one of these crises, - that of the last half of the eighteenth century, - there was a stirring of the depths in all departments of human life. Literature, the outcome of the whole life of a people, was consequently involved in the revolutionary conflagration which ran over all the European world, from the ashes of which arose new ideas of mankind.
Poetry had been removed from its natural home, the country, and was forced to do service in the artificial surroundings of city life.
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