We all know about poetry. Some people also write poems.
Now what is poetry?
It is the expression of feelings and ideas in a metrical from.
The poet is interested in the thing said to the same extent as in the saying of it.
By style indeed does poetry live but style not only implies worthy utterance but also the utterance of something worthy. An excellent array of words and marvellous felicity of phrasing are not enough in poetry.
There must be the chiming of soul with the expression, the high agreement between life which is in imagination and that which is in a language.
When a poet speaks of " Life sweet as perfume and pure as prayer."
There is an unexpected magic in these words. The poet managed these words with an incredible deftness. Some of his admirers are of opinion that this use of words may be called the sublimation of English tongue.
Truth in poetry is merely conviction. It is the business of the poet to make us accept his pronouncement without debate as the only one possible to him. It is not the business of poetry to bandy words, it argues but argues with authority. When a man moved by intensity of his vision becomes a poet and cries that thus or thus is truth, we either don't hear him being deaf.
The soul of an artist is neither a photographer nor a moralist but a flame.
Human life and character vitally enter into the scope of poetry. There are definite moral issues involved even in the work of such frank advocates of the Art for Art's sake theory.
In poetry, the sense of proportion between ethical and aesthetic values are never disturbed. Moral earnestness is also not forbidden to a poet. In the highest forms of poetry,the laws of beauty sinks so deep into the moral structure of human life that ethical and aesthetic values cannot be considered apart from each other, they blend and harmonise into one perfect blend.
Representing life, poetry touches like life in an indirect manner by nods and winks, we may learn plenty of lessons from Shakespeare if we like.
In short we can say that the poet not simply touches the outer feature of what he sees, he touches the whole with a great gleam of ideal fancy which resides only in the bosom of artist. The poet projects his own personality into his experiences.