(^muW %mtx%\ii pibtMg THE GIFT OF .?A^p^fa:d....'&^J^^ll....feo^^^ .A-.3ip.SS.J.« ^|x-|47- CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 924 096 450 121 Cornell University Library The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/cletails/cu31924096450121 THE INFLUENGE OF HORAGE ON THE GHIEF ENGLISH POETS OF THE NINETEENTH GENTURY BY MARY REBECCA THAYER NEW HAVEN YALE UNIVERSITY PRESS MDCCCCXVI CORNELL STUDIES IN ENGLISH EDITED BY JOSEPH QUINCY ADAMS LANE COOPER CLARK S. NORTHUP THE INFLUENCE OF HORACE ON THE CHIEF ENGLISH POETS OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY A THESIS PRESENTED TO THE FACULTY OF THE GRADUATE SCHOOL OF CORNELL UNIVERSITY FOR THE DEGREE OF DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY BY MARY REBECCA THAYER NEW HAVEN YALE UNIVERSITY PRESS MDCCCCXVI A K.aus? Copyright, 1916, by YALE UNIVERSITY PRESS GEORGE BANTA PUBLISHING COMPANY MENASHA, WISCONSIN 1916 TO PROFESSOR LANE COOPER IN GRATITUDE FOR HIS ENCOURAGEMENT, COUNSEL, AND AID PREFACE The following study, in substantially its present form, was prepared as a doctoral dissertation while I was holding a fellowship in English at Cornell University; it was undertaken in the beUef that the relation between English literature and other literatures, especially those of classic Greece and Rome, though its existence is readily admitted by almost every one, has not been sufficiently investigated and ascertained in detail. Such general surveys as Tucker's Foreign Debt of English Literature can in the nature of things but gUde over the surface of the vast field before them; and the careful elaboration of particular instances such as Reinsch's study of Horace and Ben Jonson (see below, page 108) is rare. So far as I am aware, no one has hitherto attempted to do for any single Greek or Latin author, in relation to our literature, what Paget Toynbee has done for Dante {Dante in English Literature, London, 1909); yet in the case of several of the Roman writers, at any rate, far more material might be collected than for Dante. Indeed, it is perhaps the very wealth of material that holds many students aloof from the necessary investigations; too few are blest with the vision characteristic of Browning's grammarian. But, even so, we may realize that every rigorous comparison of an ancient with a modern author, or with a group of modem authors, will con- stitute a necessary addition, however small, to the lofty structxire which we desire to see ideally complete. My choice of Horace as the centre of my work was in part deter- mined by my own predilection, but more by the feeUng that, when all is said, he has been the most popular Latin poet with EngUsh writers. The claims of Virgil and Ovid, of course, are very strong; yet I think that Horace can more than hold his own with either of these. I selected the nineteenth century on the ground that there would be an especial interest in learning, through one set of particulars, what sort 8 The Influence of Horace of influence the ancient classics had on an age which, as is generally supposed, is marked by a tendency to break away from them. But I expect before long to follow Horace through other periods, and to observe his influence in other English authors. My hope is that, singly, or combined with the work of others, my studies may at some time result in a substantial volume which may fairly be called 'Horace in English Literature.' I am glad to take this opportunity of expressing my gratitude to all who have aided me in the prosecution of my study. A list of the books I have consulted will be found at the end of the work (pp. 107-109); but I should like to speak in particular of Classical Echoes in Tennyson, by W. P. Mustard, of Johns Hopkins University, and of the very help- ful notes in the Shorey-Laing edition of the Odes and Epodes of Horace. I am indebted to Professor Mustard also for two Words- worthian allusions; to Professor Lane Cooper, of Cornell University, under whose direction the work was begun, for his constant interest and his many usefid suggestions; and to others who on occasion have been so good as to furnish me with valuable references. Mary Rebecca Thayek Vassar College, January 9, 1916 TABLE OF CONTENTS PAGE Introduction 11 William Wordsworth 53 Samuel Taylor Coleridge 65 Lord Byron 69 Percy Bysshe Shelley 85 John Keats 93 Alfred Lord Tennyson 94 Robert Browning 102 List of Books Consulted Ill Index of Passages from Horace 115 INTRODUCTION In order properly to discuss the influence of one writer upon an- other, it is necessary to determine as nearly as may be for what each of them stands; for the measure of real influence is, after all, the amount of sympathy which exists between the two. Therefore, prior to taking up the relation of Horace to nineteenth-century English poetry, we must endeavor to obtain a true idea of him as he shows himself to us. The attempt to discover a man in his poems is always fascinating, but also to a greater or less extent dangerous. The reason for this is twofold: .first, most poets have the faculty of merging their own iden- tity from time to time in the imaginary men and women of whom they write, so that it is indeed Oedipus, or Francesca, or Lady Mac- beth, or Paracelsus, whom we hear speaking; secondly, the eager interpreter is all too apt to forget the 'infinite variety' which goes to make up every human being, and, dwelling on certain poems, while disregarding others, to construct therefrom a caricature which the poet himself would be the last to recognize as bis portrait. From the first of these dangers Horace is not so likely to sufiEer; for it is true that some poets commit more of themselves to their verse than do others, and he belongs to the former class. So careful a student as the late Professor SeUar finds him one of the most self-revealing of poets; and Professor J. Wight Duff, the able historian of Latin literature, says of him: 'No Roman author except Cicero has left anything like so complete a self -revelation as Horace.'* It is well for us that this is true, since there is no record of him except the brief life by Suetonius, which furnishes a mere biographical outline, but not the vastly more important details of the poet's personality. Concerning Horace there has come down to us none of the contemporary appreciation which helps us to realize even so inscru- table a figure as 'gentle Shakespeare.' It is from Horace alone that we may hope to know Horace — the friend of Virgil, th,e favorite of Maecenas, the protege of Augustus, the poet of us all. From the second danger, however, Horace suffers much. Critic after critic has taken the lighter odes, the vers de socUU which the poet ^ A Literary Bistory of Rome, p. 496. 12 The Influence of Horace could write so charmingly, and with them for background has painted a picture of an amiable trifler, feeling deeply on no subject except per- haps when the ugly thought of inevitable death obtrudes itself; a finished workman, caring far more for the poUshing and setting than for the gem itself. Thus we find Keble saying: ' 'I reluctantly confess myself hitherto unable to discover any pecu- liar and dominating spring of Horace's poetry. In fact, I suspect his light touch of all subjects betrays to us that he dwelt with no serious regard on any one of them. He professes at times a notable enthusi- asm for the country and rural life: yet one always feels that his interest was rather after the manner of those who merely seek recreation there than of the country-folk themselves; that Rome was all the time in his thoughts; that he cherished his little farm and his homely belongings, less for their own sake than for their restful repose, their elegant hospi- talities, and whatsoever other like attractions they offered. In brief: he enrolled himself . . . without misgiving in the ranks of the Epicureans; setting before him as his sole rule of life the hope of grasp- ing the gifts of the passing hour, whatever they might chance to be. . . . We see, then, in him a genial gentleman, one too nearly in sympathy with the crowd, who indulge their own bent, to be deeply influenced by any tender regard for things far away.' This criticism contains an element of truth. Horace was an Epi- curean; he was a genial gentleman. But, for the rest, we surely will not acknowledge that carpe diem was his 'sole rule of life,' when we recall (to take a familiar instance) the golden mean upon which he time and again insists; we cannot agree that he took no active interest in country life when we read such passages as the following: Vivere naturae si couvenienter oportet, Ponendaeque domo quaerenda est area primum, Novistine locum potiorem rure beato? Est ubi plus tepeant hiemes? . . . Est ubi divellat somnos minus invida cura? Detenus Libyds olet aut nitet herba lapiUis? Purior in vicis aqua tendit rumpere plumbum, Quam quae per prouum trepidat cum murmure rivum? Nempe inter varias nutritur silva colimmas, Laudaturque domus longos quae prospicit agros. Naturam expelles furca, tamen usque recurret;' ' Lectures m Poetry, tr. E. K. Francis, 2. 467 S. ' If we are to live in accordance with nature, and first of all are to hunt for a spot to build a house, do you know a place preferable to the prosperous country? Is there any place where the winters are milder? Is there any place where carking care less disturbs our sleep? Does grass smell less sweet or look Introduction 13 and if we carefully consider the entire body of Horace's work, we must refuse to admit that he touched all subjects lightly. Rather we may accept the judgment of Sellar:^ 'He is at once the lyrical poet, with heart and imagination respon- sive to the deeper meaning and Ughtpr amusements of life, and the satirist, the moralist, and the literary critic of the age.' The safe method, then, is to discover, if we can, for ourselves Characte ' f ^^^ Horace reveals of himself in his works; not, of Horace. ^^ '^^ understood, such facts of his life as that his father was a freedman, and that he once narrowly escaped being struck by a falUng tree, but the characteristics of the man as his poetry discloses them. And for a first descriptive epithet we may echo one of Keble's — 'genial.' GeniaUty, indeed, is the key-note of Horace's work. We see it in the epistles, which, though addressed to dead and gone Romans, are really, we feel, for us all; yet are not impersonal 'open letters,' but rather a delightful admission of the interested to his confidence. We see it even in his most sharply satirical passages; for virtually all students of Horace the satirist have noticed that he almost never loses his good humor — that he laughs at foUies instead of railing at them. We see it in many of his lyrics, such as Vides ut dta . . . Soracte, Integer vitae, and Septimi Gadis aditure mecum. It is everywhere appar- ent, so that we find ourselves feeling that here is a man whom it would have been a pleasure to know and to talk with. Yet, though nearly always good-humored, Horace is far from being always happy. There is, indeed, a sombre strain in him that fre- quently shows itself when we least expect. DifEugere nives, redeunt iam gramina campis, he sings, Arboribusque comae; Gratia cum Nymphis geminisque sororibus audet Ducere nuda chores. And then he adds abruptly: Immortalia ne speres, monet annus et almum Quae rapit hora diem. less beautiful than pavements? Is water which tries to burst its pipes in the streets purer than that which hurries murmuring down its cliannel? Why, even among columns of variegated marble trees are tended, and a house which has a view of far-away £elds is praised. You may drive out nature with a pitchfork, but she will ever return. {Etist. 1. 10. 12-24.) * B or ace and the Elegiac Poets, p. 3. 14 The Influence of Horace Damna tamen celeres reparant caelestia lunae: Nos ubi decidimus Quo pius Aeneas, quo dives Tullus et Ancus, Pulvis et umbra sumus.' Or again: Solvitur acris hiems grata vice veris et Favoni. Nunc decet aut viridi nitidum caput impedire myrto Aut flora terrae quern fenint solutae; Nunc et in umbrosis Fauno decet immolare lucis, Seu poscat agna sive malit haedo. Pallida mors aequo pulsat pede pauperum tabemas Regumque turris. O beate Sesti, Vitae summa brevis spepi nos vetat incohare longam.' It is in this feeling of the inevitableness of death that the melan- choly of Horace usually shows itself. The glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things; There is no armor against fate; Death lays his icy hand on kings — the thought runs throughout his poetry; and from this naturally enough follows the desire to get out of life all it has to offer. Carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero,' he again and again advises, though in var3dng words. Yet that this desire for instant happiness is with him no mere unregulated impulse is evident to any reader; for perhaps the chief element of the Hora- tian philosophy is moderation. The golden mean is the standard which the poet sets before himself and those who care to hsten to him, and he despises alike the avarice of the miser and the extravagance of the spendthrift. The happiness he wishes for his brief life is, then, carefully planned, and dependent upon the scrupulous balancing of desire with desire. He carries this doctrine to its logical conclusion, and tells us: Virtus est medium vitiorum. The fact that this advice to ^ The snow has fled away, grass now returns to the fields, and leaves to the trees. The Grace, with the Nymphs and her own twin sisters, ventures unrobed to lead the chorlc dance. 'Do not hope for immortality,' is the warning of the year and the hour which snatches from us the cheerful day. Swift .changing moons repair their wanings; but when we have once departed to where pious Aeneas and rich Tullus and Ancus have gone before, we are but dust and shadow. {Carm. 4. 7. 1-16.) ^ Sharp winter is driven away by the grateful coming of spring and the soft breeze. Now is the time to wreathe shining heads with myrtle or flowers borne by the freed earth; now is the time in shady groves to make ofllcring to Faunus of a lamb if he ask it, or if he like better, of a kid. Pale death strikes with impartial foot the huts of poor men and the palaces of kings. The brief span of life forbids us, happy Sestius, to lay the foundation of a long hope. (Carm. 1. 4. 1-15.) ' Lay hold upon to-day, trusting nothing to to-morrow. (Carm. 1. 11. 8.) Introduction 15 be moderate is so often reiterated in his work goes to show that the poet was sincere in giving it. It is no passing fancy, but an integral part of his conduct of life. Thus we should expect to find Horace a man of simple tastes; and so he professes to be. Persicos odi . . . apparatus,' he cries; and though the particular ode is light in tone, the theme is sounded again and again in more serious moments. Vile potabis modicis Sabinum Cantharis, he warns no less a person than Maecenas; mea nee Falemae Temperant vites neque Fonniani Pocula colles.* He pascunt olivae, he says elsewhere, Me cichorea levesque malvae.' Many similar expressions may be found: Non ebur neque aureum Mea renidet in domo lacunar. Nihil supra Deos lacesso nee potentem amicum Largiora flagito, Satis beatus unieis Sabinis.* Purae rivus aquae silvaque iugenun Paucorum et segetis eerta fides meae Fulgentem imperio fertilis Africae Fallit sorte beatior.' And so on. A part of this may be, as many scholars would have us believe, a pose; aU of it can hardly be. It naturally follows that Horace is content with his own lot. Si natura iuberet, says he, ' I bate the pomp and circumstance of the Persians. {Carm. 1. 38. -1.) * You will drink cheap Sabine wine from modest measures. The Falemian vines and the slopes of Formiae do not flavor my cups. (Carm. 1. 20, 1-12.) ^ Olives are my food^ and chicory and wholesome mallows. {Carm. 1. 31. 15-16.) * Not ivory nor golden ceiling shines resplendent in ray hotise. I ask nothing more of the gods, nor do I importune further my powerful friend, happy enough with just my Sabine farm. {Carm. 2. 18. 1-14.) ^ A stream of pure water and a wood of a few acres and a sure reliance on my crops is a truer happi- ness than the brilliant lot of the lord of fertile Africa, unconscious of it though he be. {Carm. 3 . 16. 29-32.) 16 The Influence of Horace A certis annis aevum remeare peractum Atque alios legere, ad fastum quoscumque parentis Optaret sibi qviisque, meis contentus honestos Fascibus et sellis nollem mihi sumere.' Hoc erat in votis: modus agri non ita magnus, Hortus ubi et tecto vicinus iugis aquae fens Et paulum silvae super his foret. Auctius atque Di melius fecere. Bene est. Nil amplius oro, Maia nate, nisi ut propria haec mihi munera faxis.' Me quid credis, amice, precari? Sit mihi quod nunc est, etiam minus.* Examples could be multiplied. From all this we should surmise that Horace was responsive to the charm of external nature; for the person whose tastes are simple rarely fails to admire the beauties which he sees in the undisturbed world about him. And we cannot deny this habit of mind to the Roman poet. It is almost impossible to feel that he was insincere in his many protestations of his preference for the country over the town. The Sabine farm, mentioned so often as his chief treasure, is described in Epist. 1. 16 as none but a true lover of nature could describe it. We see the mountain-range broken only by the dark valley; the oaks and ilex- trees with their grateful shade; the stream (rivo dare nomen ido- neum), as cool and pure as Hebrus. The entire picture is given us in a dozen lines, yet it is perfectly distinct. This, in fact, is the princi- pal merit of the descriptions of external nature in Horace — the creation of a vivid impression by the use of exactly the right word or phrase. What lover of the Odes does not know amoenum LucretUem and Allm- neam resonantem and praecipitem Anienem? We see with Thaliarchus ut alta stet nive candidum Soracte;* and the country round about Tibur is familiar ground to us. What though archaeologists cannot identify all these places? They are not * If nature commanded us to go back from a certain time over our lives again, and to choose whatever other parents each of us would wish for himself according to his pride, I, content with my own, woiJd not want to select new ones honored with state offices. {Sam. 1. 6. 93-97.) ^ This was my prayer: a piece of ground not too large, where there was a garden and a spring ». 1.38.3-4, Tennyson, 93 Carm.2.1.1. Browning, 98 Cam.2.1.7-8, Coleridge, 62 Car>».2.1.22, Tennyson, 92 CorOT.2.1.29-32, Byron, 79 Carm.2.2.6, Coleridge, 62 Carm.2.3.2l seq., Byron, 76 CarOT.2.4.17-18, Browning, 99 Carm.2.5, Coleridge, 64 Carm.l.S.l seq., Browning, IDS Car»f.2.5.18, Tennyson, 97 Carm.2.6.10 seq., Wordsworth, 54 Corj».2.6.13-14, Wordsworth, 60 Carm.2.7 .6-7 , Tennyson, 96 CarOT.2.8.1-5, Tennyson, 92 Carm.2.ll.l3 seq., Tennyson, 91 CarOT.2.11.14-15, Tennyson, 90 Carm.2.l3.24 seq., Wordsworth, 56 Cofw.2.13.27, Coleridge, 63 Carm.2.U.l-2, Byron, 77 CarOT.2.15.1-2, Shelley, 85 Corw.2.16.19-20, Byron, 74 CarTO.2. 16.37, Wordsworth, 54; Byron, 75 Car>».2.17.5-12, Byron, 78 CarOT.2.17.5 seq., Tennyson, 95 Carw.2.18.14, Wordsworth, 54; Byron, 75 Cam.2.18. 18-19, Byron, 73 Carm.3.1.1, Keats, 89 Carm.3.1.4:, Byron, 71 Carw.3.1.47, Wordsworth, 54; Byron, 75 Corw.3.2.13, Wordsworth, 58; Byron, 79; Tennyson, 93 Cam.3.2.23-24, Byron, 78 CarTO.3.2.26-27, Byron, 71 Corj».3.2.32, Byron, 78 CorOT.3.3.1, Browning, 100, 103 CarTO.3.3.1-6, Shelley, 86 Carw.3.3.1-8, Bjrron, 69; Tennyson, 93 Carm.3.3.l seq., Shelley, 87 CarOT.3.3.3, Browning, 98 Car»t.3.3.4-S, Wordsworth, 58; Byron, 79 Car»i.3.3.5, Byron, 71 CorOT.3.3.7, Byron, 76 Carm.3.3.7-8, SheUey, 84, 87 CorOT.3.3.11-12, Browning, 104 Carm.3.3.69, Wordsworth, 54 CarOT.3.4.5-6, Wordsworth, 51 Cor?«.3.4.65 seq., Wordsworth, 60 116 The Injluence of Horace Carm.3.5.2-3, Browning, 104 Carw.S.ll.SS, Browning, 101 Cam.3.13, Wordsworth, 52, S3, 54 Cofm.3.13.1, Byron, 77 Cfflfm.3.13.9-10, Wordsworth, 59 Com.3.13.14-16, Wordsworth, 58 Cam.3.14.27-28, Byron, 71 Caj-w.3.15.1, Tennyson, 90 Carm.iA6.\ seq., Tennyson, 91 CorOT.3.19, Shelley, 82 Carm.3.19.2, Tennyson, 93 CafOT.3.21. 13-14, Browning, 99 Cam.3.24.26, Tennyson, 97 Com.3.26.2-4, Coleridge, 61 Ca»->».3.27.18, Tennyson, 97 Car»».3.29.1-3, Browning, 103 Car»s.3.29.12, Wordsworth, 54; Tenny- son, 94 Com.3.30.1, SheUey, 87 CarOT.3.30.1-S, Tennyson, 90 Carm.3.30.6, Byron, 78; Browning, 105 CorTO.4. 1.29-32, Byron, 71 C(w»».4.2.27-28, Wordsworth, 51 Corm.4.7.1, Wordsworth, 60 CorOT.4.7.1-2, Tennyson, 95 Car»j.4.8.11 seq., Wordsworth, 49 CarmA.8.28, Wordsworth, 49 Com.4.9.5-8, Wordsworth, 55 Carw.4.9.10-12, Wordsworth, 55; Byron, 80 CarmA.9.25, Byron, 74 CarOT.4.9.25-28, Browning, 102 Cam.4.9.28, Shelley, 85 Car»».4.9.51-52, Tennyson, 93 Carw.4.14.20-21, Byron, 79 Carm. Saec, Byron, 80 EpodA. 20, Coleridge, 62 Epod.1.31, Browning, 99 Epoi.2.\, Byron, 72 Epod.2.51, Shelley, 88 Epod.3, Browning, 101 Epod.3A, Byron, 72 Epod.S, Browning, 101 £^od.8.13-14. Browning, 99 Epod.lS.U, Coleridge, 64 E^od. 16.47-48, Wordsworth, 58 Epod.n, Browning, 101 Epod.n.25, Shelley, 88 Epod.17. 30-36, Coleridge, 61 Serm.1.1.25, Browning, 100 Serm.l.1.69-10, Browning, 98 Serm.l.2A5-i6, Browning, 100 Serm.l.3.l-3, Browning, 104 5cm.l.3.107-108, Byron, 73 5er»s.l.4.9-10, Browning, 103 5'er»».1.4.10, Byron, 76; Browning, 99 Serm.lAA2, Coleridge, 62 Serm.lAAS, Browning, 99 5cf»s.l.4.81-85, Coleridge, 61 Serm.lA. 81 seq., Coleridge, 63 5e?'»s.l.5.32-33, Tennyson, 94 Serm.l.S.U. Byron, 70 5e»-m.l.5.100, Tennyson, 90 5erffj.l.5.101, Tennyson, 95 5«»'»».1.6.5, Byron, 74 Serm.1.7.3, Browning, 100 Serm.1.8, Browning, 101 Serm.l.&.l6, Tennyson, 92 5e»'w.l.9.78, Byron, 71 5e?-»».l. 10.33, Tennyson, 96 5e»-m.l.l0.43-i4, Browning, 103 ^cm.l.lO.Se, Browning, 100 Serm.2.1, Browning, 101 Sefm.2.1.86, Browning, 100 Serm.2.2.79, Byron. 74 Serm.2.3.2i3, Wordsworth, 52; Tennyson, 90 5cm.2.5.35-36, Browning, 100 Serm.2.6.29 seq., Wordsworth, 54 Serm.2.6.71 seq., Coleridge, 62 Serm.2.7.S6, Byron, 73; Tennyson, 94 5erm.2.7.116, Browning, 99 Serm.2.7.n7, Browning, 100 Sem.2.7.118, Wordsworth, 54; Byron 75 Serm.2.8, Browning, 101 Epist.l.l.l, Wordsworth, 51 Epist.l.l.8-9, Wordsworth, 52 £^i(.1.1.51, Coleridge, 63 Epist.l.1.76, Byron, 74; Shelley, 88; Keats, 89; Tennyson, 97 Epist.l.1.88, Coleridge, 63 Epist.l.2.56, Byron, 74 E/>w(.1.4.16, Shelley, 85 Epist.l.6.l, Shelley, 85 Epist.1.6.1-2, Byron, 72 Epist.1.10.6 seq., Wordsworth, 53 Index of Passages from Horace 117 Epist.l.l0.22-2i, Wordsworth, 52 Ars Poet. Epist.l.n.3, Tennyson, 97 Ars Poet Epist.l.n.9, Byron, 76 Ars Poet. Epist.l.n.21, Tennyson, 97 Ars Poet Epist.l.n.28, Wordsworth, 50,56; Brown- Ars Poet. ing, 105 Ars Poet. Epist.i.li, Wordsworth, 54 Ars Poet. £^w/.1.14.1, Byron, 75 Ars Poet Epist.l.U.iS, Byron, 73 101, Epist.l.l6, Wordsworth, 54 Ars Poet. Epist.1.16.1 seq., Byron, 75 Ars Poet. Epist.l.18.4:, Byron, 73 Ars Poet. E^iM. 18.103, Wordsworth, 54 Ars Poet. Epist.1.19.19, Wordsworth, 50 Ars Poet. Epist.2.1.3-4:, Shelley, 85 Ars Poet. Epist.2.l.10-n, Coleridge, 63 Ars Poet. Epist.2.1.118 seq., Coleridge, 61 Ars Poet. Epist.2.l.l88, Tennyson, 94 Ars Poet. Epist.2A.213, Wordsworth, 50 Ars Poet. Epist.2.2.'i5, Wordsworth, 51, 56 Ars Poet. Epist.2.2.55, Wordsworth, 50 Ars Poet. Epist.2.2.\02, Coleridge, 63; Byron, 77; Ars Poet. Shelley, 86; Keats, 89; Browning, 98, Ars Poet. 105 Ars Poet. Epist.2.2.175-n6, Wordsworth, 59 Ars Poet Ars Poet.3-4, Byron, 76 Ars Poet Ars Poet.2l-22, Browning, 104 Ars Poet 31, Wordsworth, 51 31-37, Byron, 67 52-57, Byron, 65 99-100, Byron, 65 111-113, Byron, 67 127, Byron, 73 128, Byron, 77 .139, Coleridge, 62; Browning. 103 140-145, Byron, 66 143, Shelley, 86 148, Byron, 72 148-149, Browning, 101 161-165, Byron, 66 175-178, Byron, 67 185, Browning, 98 193-201, Byron, 68 290-291, Browning, 106 299-302, Byron, 77 304-305, Byron, 65 312 seq., Wordsworth, SO 343, Byron, 71 359, Byron, 75; Shelley, 85 372-373, Byron, 73 .386-388, Tennyson, 91 388, Byron, 76, 77 .413, Wordsworth, 51 'Ihs^ «H ti..