id, I reply, in
the first place, Because, however I may have restricted myself, there is
still left open to me what confessedly constitutes the most valuable
object of all writing, whether in prose or verse; the great and
universal passions of men, the most general and interesting of their
occupations, and the entire world of nature before me--to supply endless
combinations of forms and imagery. Now, supposing for a moment that
whatever is interesting in these objects may be as vividly described in
prose, why should I be condemned for attempting to superadd to such
description, the charm which, by the consent of all nations, is
acknowledged to exist in metrical language? To this, by such as are yet
unconvinced, it may be answered that a very small part of the pleasure
given by Poetry depends upon the metre, and that it is injudicious to
write in metre, unless it be accompanied with the other artificial
distinctions of style with which metre is usually accompanied, and that,
by such deviation, more will be lost from the shock which will thereby
be given to the Reader's associations than will be counterbalanced by
any pleasure which he can derive from the general power of numbers. In
answer to those who still contend for the necessity of accompanying
metre with certain appropriate colours of style in order to the
accomplishment of its appropriate end, and who also, in my opinion,
greatly under-rate the power of metre in itself, it might, perhaps, as
far as relates to these Volumes, have been almost sufficient to observe,
that poems are extant, written upon more humble subjects, and in a still
more naked and simple style, which have continued to give pleasure from
generation to generation. Now, if nakedness and simplicity be a defect,
the fact here mentioned affords a strong presumption that poems somewhat
less naked and simple are capable of affording pleasure at the present
day; and, what I wished _chiefly_ to attempt, at present, was to justify
myself for having written under the impression of this belief.

But various causes might be pointed out why, when the style is manly,
and the subject of some importance, words metrically arranged will long
continue to impart such a pleasure to mankind as he who proves the
extent of that pleasure will be desirous to impart. The end of Poetry is
to produce excitement in co-existence with an overbalance of pleasure;
but, by the supposition, excitement is an unusual and irregular stat