Like a poet hidden
In the light of thought,
Singing hymns unbidden,
Till the world is wrought
To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not.
I quote these words from Shelley because they express the modern or romantic conception of the lyric poet. To him inspiration comes from within, not without; he 'looks in his heart and writes'. He is moved by some power mysterious and original, and sings as the lark sings, instinctively and untaught.
The facts teach us a different lesson. The entirely original poet does not exist; if he did, we could not understand him. He must occupy some ground in common with his audience. He cannot live in the world unaffected by it. In particular the poet's mind is for ever echoing with words and rhythms that have been suggested to it. He may be so far original that he can make new combinations of these, but he needs them in order to make the combinations. In this sense there has rarely been a more original poet than Shelley himself. Yet Shelley is normally content with traditional forms and the commonest human emotions. It is with these traditional forms that a historical sketch of the present order has to deal. Lyrical poetry, however spontaneous, must come within the survey of the historian.
Yet he must begin by remarking on some unbridgeable distinctions between the classical and the modern or mediaeval lyric. It is only when these are understood that we can fairly estimate the influence of the one upon the others. What then are these differences? In the main they are two: one of form,