Chapter VI

The Form and the Spirit

A

CHANGE in the spirit of poetry must necessarily bring
with it a change of its forms, and this departure may be
less or greater to the eye, more inward or more outward,
but always there must be at least some subtle and profound
alteration which, whatever the apparent fidelity to old moulds,
is certain to amount in fact to a transmutation, since even the
outward character and effect become other than they were and
the soul of substance and movement a new thing. The opening
of the creative mind into an intuitive and revelatory poetry need
not of itself compel a revolution and total breaking up of the
old forms and a creation of altogether new moulds: it may, espe-
cially where a preparatory labour in that sense has been doing
a work of modification and adaptation, be effected for the most
part by an opening up of new potentialities in old instruments
and a subtle inner change of their character. Actually, however,
while the previous revolutions in the domain of poetry have
moved within the limits of the normal and received action of
the poetic intelligence, the upward and inward movement and
great widening of which the human mind is now in labour is
an effort of such rapidity and magnitude that it appears like an
irresistible breaking out of all familiar bounds and it is natural
that the mentality in its effort at a completely new creation
should wish to break too the old moulds as a restriction and a
fettering narrowness and be desirous of discovering novel and
unprecedented forms, fitting tenements and temples of the freer,
subtler, vaster spirit that is preparing to enter into occupation.
To remould seems to be an insufficient change, the creation of
a new body for a quite new spirit the commanded discovery
and labour. There must certainly take place in order to sat-
isfy the changed vision a considerable departure in all the main
provinces of poetic creation, the lyric, the drama, the narrative