Because I don't have it in me to drill down on "Ode to the West Wind" the way Wikipedia does. I didn't notice any of the stuff Wikipedia does. I'm just a gross, fleshly reader, I guess. However, never having read it, I was just getting into the mood that was set in the fourth stanza:
If I were a dead leaf thou mightest bear;Since I miss connecting with the blustery fall weather myself. However, the turn at the end seemed self-aggrandizing:
If I were a swift cloud to fly with thee;
A wave to pant beneath thy power, and share
The impulse of thy strength, only less free
Than Thou, O uncontrollable!
Drive my dead thoughts over the universeMy words, my precious words. Maybe it's the jealousy of the mediocre against the great, maybe it's my prejudice against artists congratulating themselves for bringing about political change -- a prejudice which being in Hollywood will do much to cultivate -- but Me, The Poet, As Hero brings out a strong "meh" in me.
Like wither’d leaves, to quicken a new birth;
And, by the incantation of this verse,
Scatter, as from an unextinguish’d hearth
Ashes and sparks, my words among mankind!
(Or maybe I just have a prejudice against reckless confidence, since you see reckless confidence = delusion so often. Maybe genius is reckless confidence + talent. )
While I'm being grumpy I will add that "To A Skylark" reminded me of George Herbert somehow, except I like George Herbert better.
YouTube bonus: "Ode To The Summer Wind," by J. Mercer. Video by some dude driving through Santa Barbara County: