Romantic poetry or poetry by the Romantic poets will have had a lasting impact in the formative years of every poet. After the formative phase is over, a writer may evolve a poetic voice of one’s own or adopt a more contemporary or impacting narrative poetic form in line with their preference. But who has not read a poem by William Wordsworth or Shelley and not felt the subtle sadness that echoes through the poem!
Like most school children, my first reading of the Romantic poets was in the seventh standard where we had The Daffodils by William Wordsworth and a more fascinating poem could not have been given. In the next class we had The Solitary Reaper again by Wordsworth followed by Ozymandias by PB Shelley; all poems not only remarkable for their beauty but also for the communication of a sincere emotion and a truth that transcended the common and reached out to the great beyond. Coming to our graduation and post graduation, we had several poems of the Romantic poets as a part of the syllabus and I had an opportunity to study their poems with more attention.
The poetry of the Romantics as succinctly enunciated in the Preface to the Lyrical Ballads, calls for attention towards the uncommon in the common and the common in the uncommon. No poetry can remain forever,unless it has a ring of universality and profundity that appeals to generations and touches the chord of humanity as a whole and the poetry of the Romantics fulfills this function in their exalted and celebrated work. Matthew Arnold in his The Study of Poetry mentions touchstones of Poetry and one of my personal favorites, William Blake the mystic romantic poet’s lines from the poem “The Tyger”are
“When the stars threw down their spears
And water'd heaven with their tears:
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?”
or the end of the poem The Rime of the Ancient Mariner by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
“He prayeth best, who loveth best
All things both great and small;
For the dear God who loveth us,
He made and loveth all.”
The liberatory and the transcendental triumph against the repressive and the reactionary in the poetry of the Romantics and so
“For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.”
The poetry of the Romantics has lightened many a sad thought and consoled a rude failure with a hope that
“The trumpet of a prophecy! O Wind,
If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?
Description sounds prosaic in the presence of such great poetry and I have immersed my thoughts in an unbounded love for
“A slumber did my spirit seal;
I had no human fears:
She seemed a thing that could not feel
The touch of earthly years.
No motion has she now, no force;
She neither hears nor sees;
Rolled round in earth's diurnal course,
With rocks, and stones, and trees. “