narrative and dramatic
representation--more so, in odes and choruses. He will be obscure,
moreover, from the depth of his feelings, which require a congenial
reader to enter into them--and from their acuteness, which shrinks
from any formal accuracy in the expression of them. And he will be
obscure, not only from the carelessness of genius and from the
originality of his conceptions, but (it may be) from natural
deficiency in the power of clear and eloquent expression, which, we
must repeat, is a talent distinct from poetry, though often mistaken
for it.

Dexterity in composition, or _eloquence_ as it may be called in a
contracted sense of the word, is however manifestly more or less
necessary in every branch of literature, though its elements may be
different in each. _Poetical_ eloquence consists, first in the power
of illustration--which the poet uses, not as the orator, voluntarily,
for the sake of clearness or ornament; but almost by constraint, as
the sole outlet and expression of intense inward feeling. The
spontaneous power of comparison is in some poetical minds entirely
wanting; these of course cannot show to advantage as poets.--Another
talent necessary to composition is the power of unfolding the meaning
in an orderly manner. A poetical mind is often too impatient to
explain itself justly; it is overpowered by a rush of emotions, which
sometimes want of power, sometimes the indolence of inward enjoyment
prevents it from describing. Nothing is more difficult than to analyse
the feelings of our own minds; and the power of doing so, whether
natural or acquired, is clearly distinct from experiencing them. Yet,
though distinct from the poetical talent, it is obviously necessary to
its exhibition. Hence it is a common praise bestowed upon writers,
that they express what we have often felt but could never describe.
The power of arrangement, which is necessary for an extended poem, is
a modification of the same talent;--being to poetry what method is to
logic. Besides these qualifications, poetical compositions requires
that command of language which is the mere effect of practice. The
poet is a compositor; words are his types; he must have them within
reach, and in unlimited abundance. Hence the need of careful labour to
the accomplished poet--not in order that his diction may attract, but
that language may be subjected to him. He studies the art of
composition as we might learn dancing or elocution; not that we