Make the way smooth for me,
When I, thy Herrick,
Honouring thee, on my knee
Offer my lyric.
Candles I'll give to thee,
And a new altar,
And thou, Saint Ben, shall be
Writ in my Psalter,
be said to be less definitely poetry than _Paradise Lost_ or in any
essentially poetic way below it? The logical answer is, no; and I think it
is the right one. In considering it we should come to an understanding of
the nature of lyric, the purpose of this essay. But first let us see how
far it may be justifiable.
PARADISE LOST
It is commonly asserted and accepted that _Paradise Lost_ is among the
two or three greatest English poems; it may justly be taken as the type of
supreme poetic achievement in our literature. What are the qualities by
virtue of which this claim is made, and allowed by every competent judge?
Firstly there is the witness of that ecstasy of mood of which we have
spoken.
His praise, ye Winds, that from four quarters blow,
Breathe soft or loud: and wave your tops, ye Pines,
With every plant, in sign of worship wave.
Fountains, and ye that warble, as ye flow,
Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise.
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