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The Man of Genius may at the same time be, indeed is commonly, an
Artist, but the two are not to be confounded. The Man of Genius,
referred to mankind, is an originator, an inspired or demonic
man, who produces a perfect work in obedience to laws yet
unexplored. The Artist is he who detects and applies the law
from observation of the works of Genius, whether of man or
nature. The Artisan is he who merely applies the rules which
others have detected. There has been no man of pure Genius; as
there has been none wholly destitute of Genius.
Poetry is the mysticism of mankind.
The expressions of the poet cannot be analyzed; his sentence is
one word, whose syllables are words. There are indeed no _words_
quite worthy to be set to his music. But what matter if we do
not hear the words always, if we hear the music?
Much verse fails of being poetry because it was not written
exactly at the right crisis, though it may have been
inconceivably near to it. It is only by a miracle that poetry is
written at all. It is not recoverable thought, but a hue caught
from a vaster receding thought.
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