e of Fancy and Imagination,
require any particular notice. But a remark of general application may
be made. All Poets, except the dramatic, have been in the practice of
feigning that their works were composed to the music of the harp or
lyre: with what degree of affectation this has been done in modern
times, I leave to the judicious to determine. For my own part, I have
not been disposed to violate probability so far, or to make such a large
demand upon the Reader's charity. Some of these pieces are essentially
lyrical; and, therefore, cannot have their due force without a supposed
musical accompaniment; but, in much the greatest part, as a substitute
for the classic lyre or romantic harp, I require nothing more than an
animated or impassioned recitation, adapted to the subject. Poems,
however humble in their kind, if they be good in that kind, cannot read
themselves; the law of long syllable and short must not be so
inflexible,--the letter of metre must not be so impassive to the spirit
of versification,--as to deprive the Reader of all voluntary power to
modulate, in subordination to the sense, the music of the poem;--in the
same manner as his mind is left at liberty, and even summoned, to act
upon its thoughts and images. But, though the accompaniment of a musical
instrument be frequently dispensed with, the true Poet does not
therefore abandon his privilege distinct from that of the mere Proseman;

He murmurs near the running brooks
A music sweeter than their own.

Let us come now to the consideration of the words Fancy and Imagination,
as employed in the classification of the following Poems. 'A man,' says
an intelligent author, 'has imagination in proportion as he can
distinctly copy in idea the impressions of sense: it is the faculty
which _images_ within the mind the phenomena of sensation. A man has
fancy in proportion as he can call up, connect, or associate, at
pleasure, those internal images ([Greek: phantazein] is to cause to
appear) so as to complete ideal representations of absent objects.
Imagination is the power of depicting, and fancy of evoking and
combining. The imagination is formed by patient observation; the fancy
by a voluntary activity in shifting the scenery of the mind. The more
accurate the imagination, the more safely may a painter, or a poet,
undertake a delineation, or a description, without the presence of the
objects to be characterised. The more versatile the fancy, the more