The early history of drama is more difficult to chart accurately even than that of fiction or poetry, not least because there are so few English examples before the ‘mystery plays’ of the Middle Ages and a lack of clear ‘movements’ even after that. Furthermore, during certain periods, theatre has been marginalised or censored which hardly assists continuity. Barren periods in theatre have been more common and lengthy than in any other art form. Acting has been deemed at times to be unchristian, idolatrous and depraved or, worse, boring. Actors themselves have frequently been seen to be one of the humbler classes, and only towards the end of the 19^th century did their status start to improve. It is only since the 16^th century, in fact, that plays and players have been settled in theatres in England and that drama, as we know it, has taken shape.

Unlike the theatre-based entertainments of the ancient world - where an audience would gather to watch plays looking down from the raised semi-circular viewing platforms of an amphitheatre - English drama was less fixed and grew up on the road. Travelling companies of players would arrive in a town or the court and put on one or more plays: some serious, some light, and often with religious subjects. Moreover, there was clearly much improvisation. For the uninitiated, an interesting and enlightening (albeit fictional) account of the medieval player’s lifestyle and art can be found in Barry Unsworth’s novel, Morality Play (1995).

It is the mystery play, in medieval times, that forms our first record of English dramatic art. Taken around nearby towns by actors made up of people from craft guilds, these plays were popular from the 13^th to the 16^th century. It was from the trade (or "mestier") of the performers that these plays take their "mystery" name, although initially the term "miracle play" was also given to them (strictly, though, those are plays depicting saints’ lives). These plays did not only surface in England, but were common in Ireland and on the continent too: in France, Italy and Germany. Many different plays would be performed at festivals or pageants in the towns, forming "cycles" taken from Biblical sources and stripped down to their core narrative elements – each one to be played by a particular guild (shipmen for Noah’s story, ironically enough, in York). The four complete surviving play cycles show that the plays alternated between the serious and devout (for the Passion etc.), and the humorous or absurd (frequently involving Satan making a fool of himself or profane husband and wife arguments). It is no surprise that even during their time, these extremely popular plays caused certain controversy due to their apparent idolatry and the Church’s distaste for religious pageantry. In fact, the plays were spreading the knowledge and understanding of Christianity and Biblical stories at a time when books were not commonly available. However, they were finally repressed out of existence at the time of the Reformation.

Morality plays were popular in the 15^th century and for some time after. They saw contrasting human qualities and emotions personified, debating and acting as if they were human. Most famous of these works was Everyman (c.1509-19), which has regained popularity and respect in the 20^th century and features characters such as Fellowship, Knowledge and Good Deeds. John Skelton’s Magnyfycence (date unknown) is another famous example, probably from approximately the same time and involving the eponymous character’s suffering due to bad advice, and his salvation by characters called Good- hope, Perseverance and the like. The morality plays faded from existence via the similar and sometimes indistinguishable "Interludes" and a new desire on the part of audiences, playwrights and actors to find realism in drama.

The so-called interludes – popular in the 15^th and 16^th centuries - were still to a large degree allegorical, but they were considerably shorter and more commonly performed by professional actors. This was made possible by their small casts. Further, these plays moved away from the religious or moralistic and towards comedy - farce particularly – and humour centred on social stereotypes. John Heywood was an exponent of the form (see A Play of Love and The Play of the Wether (both 1533)), and served under Henry VIII and Queen Mary. John Rastell, brother-in-law of Sir Thomas More, was also a writer of interludes, including Four Elements (c.1520). The most well known example of an interlude is the play-within-a-play during Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream (c.1595) where various hopeless amateurs perform "Pyramus and Thisbe" for the entertainment of the principal characters.

The English Renaissance brought with it startling change in drama. Its three great heroes: Christopher Marlowe, William Shakespeare and Ben Jonson all wrote plays which far outdid moralities and interludes with their extravagant style, wit and substance. Marlowe seems to have been a violent and even criminally inclined man, and something of this temperament (which finally led to his death in a Deptford tavern quarrelling over the bill!) shows through in his plays (see Tamburlaine particularly). Typically for the later 16^th century, Marlowe wrote historical drama, and was a great influence upon the young Shakespeare. Particularly powerful were his enormously successful Tamburlaine part 1 (written before 1587 and performed many times a year in London), its sequel (1588), and Edward II (1594) that has much in common with Shakespeare’s Richard II (1595) in its depiction of a king facing rebellion with a combination of frustration, anger and dignity. The bloody and horrific ending of Tamburlaine part 1, while hardly typical of Elizabethan drama, shows the extent to which playwrights could now serve up a potent combination of violence and poetry. Shakespeare’s Coriolanus (1608) especially seems to follow the horror of Marlowe’s play. Most famous of Marlowe’s other plays is Dr. Faustus (first performed 1594). This sinister but enduringly popular play, based on the German Faustbuch of 1587 follows the medieval fable of a man literally selling his soul to the devil. Besides the compelling dialogues between the devious Mephistopheles and Faustus, the play is notable for its occasional use of humans-made-bestial visual jokes (again, see A Midsummer Night’s Dream) and extravagant conceits that it is still impossible to stage accurately.

There is space elsewhere for a full discussion of Shakespeare, whose plays form the centre of all theatre from this time onwards. It is worth mentioning, however, that his early plays were quite conventional and historical or in some cases comic, and it was only with the success that they brought him that he started to write exceptionally: his later histories (Henry V (c. 1599) especially), middle period comedies (e.g. Twelfth Night (c. 1600), Much Ado About Nothing (c. 1600)) and tragedies (King Lear (c.1605), Antony and Cleopatra (c. 1606 etc.). Even in Shakespeare’s case, however, there is dispute about authorship and dramatic qualities. ‘Problem’ comedies such as Measure for Measure (1604) are so- called because of their subject matter and tone, which do not quite fit either the comic or tragic categories. The later plays, or ‘romances’ (e.g. The Winter’s Tale and The Tempest (both c. 1611)) present similar problems of classification but seem more playful and therefore more easily ascribed a different genre entirely. However, Shakespeare like his contemporaries was working with theatres rather than merely presenting street-features of the sort common a century before. As Andrew Gurr states, "One partial answer to the paradox of Elizabethan playwriting must lie in its novelty. Writing for regular London audiences in custom-built theatres with famous players was new, and the possibilities raised were boundless". Indeed, by the end of his career Shakespeare famously had his own theatre, The Globe, and could work around its physical limits (c.f. The Tempest). Shakespeare was certainly an innovator, especially linguistically (he added more new words to the English language than any other individual in history). However, the debt he owes to his sources (Holinshed etc.) for his stories, and to Marlowe and the Greeks for his form is not to be underestimated. Nor, of course, is the input of his actors. We do not have a single text written in his own hand, and must assume that certain revisions were made with the assistance of the players themselves.

Another of Shakespeare’s sources was Thomas Kyd’s The Spanish Tragedy (1592), which influenced Hamlet. (c.1599-1601) not to mention other ‘Revenge Tragedies’ of the period and the work of JohnWebster. Ben Jonson was paid to add to the text of Kyd’s play and, like Shakespeare, was a player himself. Jonson’s plays, of which Volpone (1605-6) and Bartholomew Fair (1614) are the most famous, are characterised by their repugnant casts (see The Alchemist (1610) particularly) and biting satire. A friend of John Donne, Francis Bacon, and Shakespeare among others, Jonson was the toast of the literary scene during the reign of James I but managed to get himself imprisoned for his and his co-writers’ comments about Scots in Eastward Hoe (1605) and has been cruelly underrated since 1700 due to the snowballing fervour for Shakespeare’s plays.

The 17^th century was a time of considerable upheaval for the English theatre. After reaching its heyday during the 1600s, it saw its great Elizabethan and early Jacobean exponents dying with no obvious followers. Worse, plays were overtaken by masques as the court entertainment of choice and banned for a time causing the closure of theatres. These were a combination of poetry, music and spectacle. Beaumont and Fletcher, together and separately, greatly influenced the theatre of the time with Four Plays in One (c.1608), Philaster (1609), The Maid’s Tragedy (1610-11) and others. These plays showed ever more sophistication in dialogue, inflated sentiment and a general steering away from the reality-chic of the Elizabethan age. Where in the 16^th century there had been a truly varied audience for theatrical performances, in the mid-17^th century this had been replaced by an aristocratic set. Plays were made more self-consciously refined and structurally complicated to suit their new audience by the playwrights of the day, while type-casting created actors who suited certain parts only. This was the time of heroic drama as catalysed by the works of Roger Boyle and Robert Howard, followed up by Elkanah Settle and Thomas Otway, and made in quantity and with some finesse by poet laureate and populist John Dryden (see Tyrannic Love (1669) etc.). However, with the exception of his blank verse tragedy, All for Love (1678) that he derived from Shakespeare’s Antony and Cleopatra (c.1606-7), heroic drama was a strange and ephemeral beast. Evans suggests that only psychologists are likely to find these plays interesting "for they suggest that an audience whose life was governed by cynicism found some relief in this dream-world picture of a fantastic conception of honour". Certainly, the plays are little performed now, and seem likely to linger in footnotes of literary textbooks.

Restoration drama is best known, then, not for its tragedies but for its comedies: bawdy and immoral or amoral depending on your point of view they satirise 17^th century society with verve and hilarious panache. While mere shadows of the comedies of Jonson or Shakespeare, the plays of William Wycherley, George Farquhar, Sir George Etherege and William Congreve are far superior to the works of the next century. Their characters reel about the stage with exaggerated extravagance and ridiculous affectation: the best example of this being Sir Fopling Flutter in Etherege’s The Man of Mode (1676). Congreve’s Love for Love (1695) and The Way of the World (1700) are similar and extremely amusing in their portraits of love and the social strain of marriage. The relatively realistic but somewhat ham-fisted Farquhar is best known for The Beaux’ Stratagem (1707), while the rather different and morally fierce (in the Jonsonean sense) Wycherley achieved renown for The Country Wife (c.1675). These comedies, especially The Country Wife caused great controversy for their apparently licentious subject matter, and gave comedy something of a bad name (or perhaps a rightful notoriety that it now lacks to its cost). Predominantly prose-based, they were so cynical and bawdy as to offend the new audience of the theatre with frivolity and sexual innuendoes, sexually charged widows and absurd fops. Jeremy Collier’s attack upon these plays, A Short View of the Immorality and Profaneness of the English Stage (1698), led to the prosecution of Congreve and generally shook up the theatrical world. Though now the best known, it was not the only savaging of contemporary theatre by any stretch of the imagination. These attacks did nothing for drama, however. The plays of Farquhar and the rest turned out to be the dying gasp of the great period of theatre that had begun one and a half centuries before. Not until the 20^th century would new dramatic works be written with such success conceptually and artistically.

In TS Eliot’s A Dialogue of Dramatic Poetry, we hear the claim that "There is no precedent for a nation having two great periods of drama". After Restoration comedy had faded out, one could have been forgiven for presuming that England was going to fail absolutely to buck that trend. It is hard to find any real continuity in drama at the best of times, it being a form moulded around (fickle) popular tastes to a greater degree even than fiction. As Raymond Williams claims, "Drama often shows more clearly and more quickly than the other art, the deep patterns and changes in our general ideas of reality". However, even despite the lack of continuity and the inevitable changes in popular taste, it is strange how neglected drama became after the 1700. The situation was not helped by the second-rate work of Colley Cibber who was much more concerned about spectacle and fame than literary worth: see The Careless Husband (1704) and the work of contemporary Richard Steele (The Tender Husband (1705) etc.). Only with Richard Sheridan’s fame after The Rivals (1775) and his later acclaimed work, The School for Scandal (1777), was there some kind of resurgence in the quality of new theatrical writing. However, these were not plays of any great gravity or depth, and did not actually stretch comic theatre far from Congreve and all (although by this time the Restoration comedies were playing in toned-down versions leading to a situation in the 19^th century where they were ignored completely). Even Sheridan came to drama by accident when hit by poverty in the early 1770s due to various difficulties concerning his marriage to Eliza Linley. A satirist who wrote with wit and an easy sense of how to captivate the audience while mocking the hypocrisy of the world, Sheridan was effectively ruined by drama itself, sent into debt by the purchase of a theatre and payment of actors’ wages.

Other than Sheridan, only Oliver Goldsmith genuinely merits a mention as a significant dramatist of the time. Primarily, Goldsmith was a novelist (see The Vicar of Wakefield) but in the late 1760s took to writing plays, starting with the well-received comedy The Good Natur’d Man in 1768. He reacted strongly against the playwriting of the period (see Richardson, Sterne etc.): what "London Magazine" termed, "that monster called Sentimental Comedy", and was therefore considered a literary hero of sorts for a while. She Stoops to Conquer (1773) was a particular success with its amusing premise of a man mistakenly staying at a private house under the impression that it is an inn and, under this illusion, making love to the daughter of the ‘landlord’, thinking she is a servant girl.

The first half of the 19^th century was notable in drama for being a time when numerous great poets were writing, almost none of them wanting to write for the theatre. One exception was Shelley, who wrote The Cenci – a verse melodrama much indebted to Shakespeare - in 1819. It was not to be performed in his time, though, because its main concerns were incest and atheism. These were not popular or accepted subjects for the wealthy middle-classes who attended plays and possessed far less enthusiasm and intelligence than those of the Elizabethan or Jacobean ages.

One of the greatest problems faced by playwrights during the nineteenth century was the fact that where once the stage had represented on some level a version of life in court or home, now it bore little resemblance to the society it intended to portray, let alone the individuals within it. Therefore, with no contemporary drama to speak of, even versions of older plays were unremarkable. Certainly, there existed at this time fine critics such as William Hazlitt and Thomas De Quincey writing about drama, but there was little modern for them to focus upon. Even the great Lord Byron, writing in Italy, could not raise the standard with his poorly received plays from 1821 such as The Two Foscari and Cain. For a man of his time, Byron was surprisingly interested in the field of drama, but could do little to restore it to greatness, remaining best known for his verse.

Thomas William Robertson was initially an actor and only turned to writing for the stage upon his retirement at the age of thirty-five. He was to be one of the few figures of dignity in 19^th century theatre. Realising the lack of realism and contemporary feeling in plays, he attempted to spin a natural and life-like web around his comedies. Best known now for his play Caste (1829-71), Robertson began with reasonably well-received works such as David Garrick (1864) and Ours (1866). Though slightly crude and artless to read, the plays seem less cripplingly sentimental or melodramatic when presented on stage. This argument would not have convinced WB Yeats, though. Defining the bookish era of the Modernist – he proclaimed, half a century later, "We do not think a play can be worth acting and not worth reading".

To put Robertson’s mediocre achievements in perspective, at this time the Norwegian playwright Henrik Ibsen was writing Peer Gynt (1867) and was only a decade away from his great play The Doll’s House (1879). It was Ibsen and none of the mid-19^th century English writers who came to influence the development of the play in the 20^th century. Possessed of a greater poetic style by far than that of his British contemporaries, he has (unusually for a Scandinavian) been wholly accepted in England. This is perhaps because he wrote during this appalling vacuum of quality drama in England, just as Boccaccio is accepted as the greatest storyteller of the medieval world before Chaucer partially for sheer lack of competition.

With the background of Gilbert and Sullivan’s English comic operettas, which set the tone for turn of the 20^th century drama, the brilliantly witty Oscar Wilde shot to fame briefly before finding himself imprisoned for his then-illegal homosexual activities. His first two plays (Vera (1883) and The Duchess of Padua (1891)) shared much with the drama of the earlier half of the century in that they were dull and insignificant. However, due to his considerable powers of satire, his eye for society’s details, and his peculiarly wonderful way with insults and aphorisms, Wilde achieved great success with A Woman of No Importance (1893), An Ideal Husband (1895) and The Importance of Being Earnest (1895). These followed the initial popular triumph of Lady Windermere’s Fan (1892) and have become popular again in the 1990s and 2000s.

At the start of the 20^th century, a new group of playwrights emerged combining wit and thought in a way (Wilde aside) unheard of in England since the early 18^th century. William Butler Yeats tried his hand at drama, adding his Irish mysticism and a lyrical element to The Countess Cathleen (1892) and The Land of the Heart’s Desire (1894). Far greater in a dramatic sense was Yeats’s friend and fellow Irishman John Millington Synge who wrote a controversial but honest comic account of the Irish character in The Playboy of the Western World (1907). Various other plays by Synge have lasted well and are worth investigation, including the tragedy Riders to the Sea (1904) and his late success Red Roses for Me (1946). In the late 1910s and 1920s, W. Somerset Maugham – already famed for his prose fiction – was inspired by the new vogue in dramatic writing and indulged with two refined comedies: Caesar’s Wife and Home and Beauty (both 1919) and various other ever more cynical and Restoration comedy- like plays.

However, it was the work of George Bernard Shaw that truly astounds and at the time re-enlivened the stage. In an extraordinarily long life and writing career, Shaw went from working as a notable critic of the theatre to being its best author with Man and Superman (1903), Pygmalion (1913), Heartbreak House (1919) and vast swathes of other exceptionally intelligent and idea-based plays in the vein of Ibsen (who he greatly admired). He wrote with ease on subjects that made others uneasy such as prostitution and narcissism, but with brave honesty expressed in the unrepressed voices of his characters. A difficult man with strong opinions, Shaw used his comedies as ammunition in his personal fight against the foolish assumptions of the masses.

The attempts of TS Eliot to contribute to verse drama were not so much unsuccessful as unwanted. It is hard to find even an Eliot fanatic who will claim that the plays add much to the corpus of English dramatic literature. Murder in the Cathedral (1935), a play in verse about the death of Thomas Becket, remains the best known and favourite of his dramas, coming after his ambitious fragments, Sweeney Agonistes (1932) and The Rock (1934). The Family Reunion (1939), The Cocktail Party (1950) and suchlike did not lack ideas – the former having something of the conceptual background of his poem "Burnt Norton" - but failed to find an audience. He misunderstood (or more likely ignored) the nature of a theatre audience and its desires as much as he did that of poetry. But the poetic form is more forgiving than drama and pretension less a sin in a poet than a necessity. This has never been true of playwrights. As such, like WH Auden’s plays (with Christopher Isherwood, e.g. The Dance of Death (1935)), Eliot’s were somewhat specialist and have only been kept alive by their author’s fame in the field of poetry. It is ironic that Eliot’s greatest West End success has been Andrew Lloyd Webber’s goldmine musical Cats (1981-) based upon the distinctly light and Edward Lear-esque Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats (1939).

With the unstoppable rise of the cinema, the 1930s and 1940s became times that saw better actors than they did dramatists: particularly since Laurence Olivier, John Gielgud and others of their ilk took to the stage. Despite or perhaps because of their popularity, JB Priestley (An Inspector Calls (1947)) and the most witty and camp writer since Wilde, Noel Coward (notably Fallen Angels (1925) and Private Lives (1933)), were not taken very seriously. However, Priestley is studied in schools regularly and Coward is now having something of a comeback on the stage. The latter’s screenplays from the time of World War II, such as Brief Encounter (1944), are of equal interest however.

This is, of course, the problem with later 20^th century drama: cinema wins audiences outright with its faster, and therefore modern, pace and infinitely wider possibilities. Certainly, the theatre has its uniquely intimate setting, and the cinema cannot compete (except with volume and visual extravagance). However, despite the positive effect of the fiercely contemporary and effective Look Back in Anger (1956) by John Osborne, Samuel Beckett’s radical Waiting for Godot (1956) and the influence of various American writers (particularly Tennessee Williams, Arthur Miller and David Mamet), the 20^th century has seen cinema and television rule over most of the Western World. The theatre, steadfastly and with good intentions, has held its metaphorical nose aloft and refused to pander to the desires of the masses. It has therefore lost all but a narrow and specialist audience. In doing so, it has provoked some sympathy but far more of the cynicism that follows opera around and the repulsive whiff of irrelevance and inherent snobbery. John Freeman’s recent attack upon the conventional view of theatre is shocking but rings true too often for comfort:

"We have been duped into believing that theatre is entertaining, that it is instructional, that it is celebratory, that it is cathartic… Mainstream theatre does not entertain. If it did we would go more often… Theatre is not good for us and cinema bad. It’s a class argument and beyond contempt. Why would Pulp Fiction be harmful and Medea not?"

Although Freeman goes too far in writing off drama, he does summarise rather effectively the counter argument to the absurd ‘theatre is better than cinema’ stance. Further, he is correct about diminishing audiences. We go in our hordes to musicals because they are fun and entertaining or sad and moving. We watch films for the same reason. We go to the theatre to receive a blessing from the god of high art. This is absurd. Marlowe, Jonson, Shakespeare, Wycherley and the rest – even heavy-handed old Dryden – did not write for an audience of fawning zombies. Without more reaction than a polite handclap and our suspect claims that the play ‘improved’ us, the theatre will (if it has not completely already) stagnate once again and become the immaterial minority interest it was between the Restoration and the late 19^th century. Certainly, it is true that theatre will become an irrelevance without an audience. We must not fall prey of the easy and foolish belief that sitting on an uncomfortable seat peering at an unconvincing stage set and some actors we can barely see the expressions of is a more profound or ‘good’ experience than those to be found on the big or small screen. Instead, a new and popular direction is needed more desperately than in either poetry or fiction. Otherwise, stage drama is likely to become the province of critics alone – a disturbing prospect if ever there was one.

The first poetry to have been written in the English tongue was that of the Anglo-Saxon period. Due to the lack of a printing press until the 15^th century and the fact that this was largely a pre-literate society, it was necessary for poets to employ complex systems of rhyme, familiar repeated phrases and alliteration to make their verse memorable as well as beautiful. Poems transmitted ideas. Surviving examples include histories celebrating bravery even in defeat by marauding Vikings ("The Battle of Maldon"¹), religious writings (versions of Genesis and Exodus among other Biblical stories; and ‘dream-vision’ poems such as "The Dream of the Rood") and a fair number of lewd riddles. For a culture we know relatively little about and from which survives only a small and random selection of texts (a mere 30,000 lines of poetry, in fact), Anglo-Saxon poetry offers an extremely rich and wide range of literature. Poems such as "The Wanderer", "The Seafarer", and "The Wife’s Lament" articulate profound sadness and alienation felt in a culture with little religious certainty (torn as it was between pagan and Christian beliefs) and the destabilizing effect of unpredictable and vicious Scandinavian invasions. In the six centuries before the Norman Conquest of 1066, a versatile oral poetic tradition had developed. What survives of this was finally written down towards the end of the period.

The purpose of this poetry was clearly to educate and confirm new religious thinking. Christianity existed in tandem with the old beliefs for a century or more – old beliefs die hard. The most famous Old English poem, Beowulf (probably written in the later 8^th century), acknowledges and mourns the passing of the pre-Christian heroic age – of monsters such as Grendel and the dragon – but with the wisdom of maturity and understanding of transience. The hero’s weapons and treasures symbolic of the dying pagan time are buried at the end "as useless to men as at that former time".

Talking Pearls and Geoffrey Chaucer

Inevitably, some of the traditions of Anglo-Saxon poetry survived into the Middle Ages. Poems such as "The Owl and the Nightingale" (circa 1200) retain the familiar alliterative style and a tendency to anthropomorphize and therefore have animals and inanimate objects speaking as if human. Similarly, heroic journey stories did not die with Beowulf by any means and ‘romances’ such as King Horn (c. 1225) were common in the 13^th century. The next century brought a number of Christian moral poems (Piers Plowman (c. 1367-70) and the Gawain poet’s dream vision poem about a lost daughter and the New Jerusalem which is referred to as "Pearl" (c.1400)). It was Chaucer, though, above Langland, Gower or Malory who is considered foremost in 14^th century literature. His Troilus and Criseyde, tells a tragic love story set in the time of the siege at Troy and is still much revered for its majesty and impeccable construction in rhyme-royal verse. More famous, though, and more varied are The Canterbury Tales which surely need little introduction. This cornucopia of stories - derivative of Boccaccio’s Decameron both for certain plots and in being a varied selection of tales spoken by different characters – has remarkable scope. A group of pilgrims from the lowliest (a miller) to the noblest (a knight) tell each other a series of variously polite, lewd, scandalous and satirical stories in a selection of different verse forms. Chaucer was a respected member of society but could rarely resist a jibe at the expense of the corrupt (the Summoner), the absurd (the Monk) or the vain (the Prioress). Meanwhile he allows himself a wry smile when depicting unconventional social dissidents like the Wife of Bath. Chaucer’s sense of humour sets him apart from the more tiresomely heroic and religious writers of the Middle Ages.

However, as in the case of prose fiction, the flourishing of poetry came with Caxton’s printing press. Indeed Chaucer, Malory (author of Le Morte D’Arthur) and suchlike were the first authors to be printed by Caxton. By the 1470s these were ‘classics’, no less. It was in the 16^th century, though, that the great period of English poetry began and - some would say – ended: the English Renaissance. C S Lewis, the great 20^th century critic of medieval literature described² two periods in the 16^th century. The first, the "Drab", was personified principally by Wyatt (sometimes seen as a forerunner of Donne) and Skelton; while the second, the "Golden", is of less esoteric interest to the modern reader. The masters of the Elizabethan and early Jacobean poetic ages have managed to retain their vitality for four centuries. Perhaps due to their perfection of the love sonnet or the ambition of their grander works, Sir Philip Sidney, Edmund Spenser, William Shakespeare and Samuel Daniel especially have retained their power to express longing and desire exceptionally well. Each of these writers wrote beautiful verse sequences to imaginary or actual lovers alongside their famous major works in poetry, plays and prose. Versatility was vital, as evidenced by the popular concept of following the poetic (specifically Virgilian) career running from pastoral early works to a mature epic, with love poetry as a personal and passionate side project. Only Spenser followed this pattern precisely: experimenting with pastoral ‘eclogues’ in The Shepheardes Calender (1579) before starting work on his Arthurian epic poem The Faerie Queene (1590 and 1596) in which he innovated a rhyme scheme totally unsuited to the English language’s word-endings in imitation of continental sonneteers. The poetic masterpieces of the age were assisted – made possible even - by the existence of a system of patronage whereby aristocrats would effectively commission poets to praise them in verse. Elizabeth I inevitably received the most lavish praise.

By the time of John Donne’s poems in the 1590s and the early 17^th century, however, patronage was becoming hard to attain and as such he wrote to numerous different aristocratic women, developing a novel ‘metaphysical’ style, crammed with metaphors and born of understandable insecurity about his subjects’ interest in his verse. Donne was unusual in his frank, if obtuse, declarations of the dark inspirations for love; in Spenser and Sidney, love had tended to be either pure or impure. The continued popularity of Donne’s poems can be put down to their amusingly innocuous subject matter: most famously the pseudo- sexual mixture of lovers’ blood allowed for by "The Flea". If his later religious poetry and sermons appeal less to the modern taste, then than is not for any diminished poetic sensibility on his part. He continued to envision life and belief as a series of allegories and metaphors (the hill of truth etc.). Only Marvell (a poetic non-entity in his time) in the later 17th century competed with the ambitious and dark metaphysical conceits of Donne in "The Garden" and "To his Coy Mistress". The Earl of Rochester, though, merits a mention for the sheer sordidness of his poetic experiments in the metaphysical style and for being the most sexually frank poet in English before the 20^th century.

Alexander Pope was the next poet of note and fame. His The Rape of the Lock (1712) and "Windsor Forest" (1713) particularly have remained traditional school texts long past their respective expiry dates. His wit has not aged terribly well and his poetry is of predominantly historical and technical interest. Yet, he has had his followers in the 20^th century in the form of Leavis and Empson who credit his poems with complexity and variation³. The 19^th century view of his poetry as tedious, however, dwells. Back then, W L Bowles referred to Pope’s poetry as being akin to "a game of cards", and even this seems unduly generous.

The rise of the novel after 1740 as good as ended the tradition of epic poetry as espoused by Milton and Spenser. More than this, it diminished the number of writers choosing to write only or predominantly in verse. Dr Samuel Johnson’s "London" (1738) and sporadically written other poems in English and Latin are interesting but not as compelling as his prose. Until the later part of the 18^th century, in fact, poets were people to write about, not to be. This was not least due to the fact that there was no money in writing poetry and certainly no patrons. This Johnson found out to his cost, living in poverty writing (very fine) hack journalism for magazines such as "The Idler" for much of his life. It is little surprise then that William Blake, writing at the end of the 18^th century, published and illustrated his own poetry. Described as ‘mystical’, this was written in long lines of violently inspired verse and is quite unlike anything before or since. His personal mythology fills his Book of Thel, the more famous Songs of Innocence in 1789, and is present in his Songs of Experience (1794) that contains some of his more approachable verse. At the time, though, Blake did not find an audience for his work. It was only as the new vanguard of Romantic poets such as Wordsworth began to compare him favourably to Scott and Byron that his positive reputation started to take shape.

Poems were to a great extent no longer public by the 1790s. Poets began to look inward for inspiration and the Romantic movement was born. Samuel Taylor Coleridge wrote of inner torment in "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner" and "This Lime Tree Bower My Prison", as well as mystical (or rather narcotic) visionary poetry in his justly revered "Kubla Khan"⁴. The world of inner sorrows was reflected in this poetry’s vision of the outside, in pathetic fallacy. Like Wordsworth, Coleridge was inconsistent. When he borrows the setting and concerns of the Gothic vogue in "Christabel" he writes some absolutely dire and embarrassingly self-consciously titillating verse (predictably the poem does have its admirers). It is with the torment of the mariner in "The Rime…" and the lonely voyage of guilt on the ghostly sea, where even the creatures of the water and the sun’s light seem to mimic his emotions, that he achieves true sublimity. This was the poetry of escape through the written word, of joyful appreciation of nature and loneliness. In this vein, "Dejection: an Ode" (1802) explores the destructive effects of opium addiction, but soon after his move to the continent in 1804 his poetry took a turn for the worse and his opinions to the conservative. He became, of course, a critic.

Wordsworth’s career followed a similar pattern: beginning with their joint venture Lyrical Ballads (1798), he went on to write of and from suffering (the early deaths two of his children etc. – see "Surprised by joy" (1815)) before settling down into conservative and patriotic ways to the great chagrin of his young poetic admirers. He did, however, go on to write the substantial and admired The Prelude, published posthumously in 1850. His ambition was to write in the language of the common man, for the sake of purity and comprehensibility. This hardly fits with his later near-snobbish attitudes, but it was an aim that would inform the poetry of Thomas Hardy and Philip Larkin.

The early 19^th century produced many enduringly appreciated but short-lived poets: notably Percy Bysshe Shelley and John Keats, and Lord Byron (a close friend of the former). Considered to be the second phase of ‘Romantic’ poets, these men tend to be somewhat unfairly judged together. Keats was a fragile and ill-starred poet, much of whose poetry such as Hyperion was inspired by travels in the rugged landscapes of the Lake District (also associated with Wordsworth). The finest of his passionate and beautiful poems were written between 1818 and 1819: "The Eve of St Agnes", "La Belle Dame Sans Merci" and "Ode to a Nightingale" stand out particularly. At his death he had not even reached thirty.

Shelley lived only slightly longer and died the year after Keats in 1822. An exceptionally gifted young man, Shelley experimented with the Gothic horror prose form (more associated with his second wife, Mary) before turning to the revolutionary poetry of Queen Mab (1813) etc. Faced with the horror of his first wife’s suicide by drowning and financial difficulties he wrote most of his best poetry in a one year period after the summer of 1919, including Prometheus Unbound and The Mask of Anarchy as well as lyric poetry of note such as "To a Skylark". Although frequently intellectually arrogant and often immersed in melancholy and self-pity (not always without reason), Shelley is still highly regarded.

After the second phase of the Romantics, the Victorian age brought a succession of more self-consciously public poets to the scene: centrally Robert Browning and Alfred Lord Tennyson. This new group was comprised of the academically gifted and the passionate. Both Browning and Tennyson are somewhat of an acquired taste now and often considered to be over formal and dated. They represent the very English tendency to litter poetry with bookish references to the classics of English, Latin and Greek poetry, and created a new form of almost elitist verse that requires substantial background knowledge to appreciate beyond the superficial. This was especially true of Browning who grew up with the benefit and influence of his father’s 6000-strong and extremely eclectic library. Despite his uncommon learning, he nonetheless enchants with the poems of Paracelsus (1835) - his first critical success - and his collection Men and Women (1855). Even less renowned collections such as Dramatic Romances contain some beautifully fatalistic love poetry (see "The Last Ride Together". His masterpiece, though, is widely considered to be The Ring and the Book (1868-9). This twelve-book poem in blank verse was inspired by a book the poet found in a Venetian market relating to a murder trial of the 17^th century. Told by a succession of untrustworthy Roman citizens, the poem was as ambitious a poetic project as any since Milton. It was also a success critically, although it did not raise Browning to the popular level of poet laureate Tennyson.

Tennyson, like Browning, was an exponent of the ‘dramatic monologue’ form and is now known principally for his poems The Charge of the Light Brigade (1854), and In Memoriam (1850) which mourned the loss of his friend A H Hallam in 1833. His best early and shorter poems were published in his Poems volumes of 1833 and 1842, including The Lotos-Eaters, Ulysses and Locksley Hall. Working on a £200 a year civil list pension and the laureateship, he produced The Princess (1847), Maud, and other Poems (1855) and The Idylls of the King (1859-). Bleak in his outlook but ambitious in the variety of his subject matter, he was a favourite of Queen Victoria. However, though popular at the time, Tennyson is usually at his best in his lyrical poetry rather than the dramatic and epic forms that he employed so often in his later poetry. He was certainly influential but can now appear over-wrought and melancholic.

Unlike their contemporary, Matthew Arnold, who went on from poetry such as "Tristram and Iseult" (1852) and "Dover Beach" (1867) to express himself in pithy prose (notably Culture and Anarchy (1869)), neither Browning nor Tennyson seemed to see the value of brevity. The same could be said of Walt Whitman in America, who repeatedly enlarged his Leaves of Grass (1848-) from a slim twelve- poem book of Emerson-inspired verse into a comprehensive and vast expression of a disturbed self. Yet Whitman brought with Leaves of Grass a new freedom in verse that was almost chaotic in its rejection of tradition of poetic rules and traditions. Certainly, other poets would go further and deconstruct down to the word itself but Whitman began the trend and was a maverick figure unrivalled in the second half of the 19^th century. Influential though he was in the United States, the effect and acceptance of Whitman’s free and personal verse took time to filter through to England where formal, traditional and majestic poetry still held sway.

In fact, Thomas Hardy aside, turn-of-the-20^th-century ‘English’ poetry of quality tended to originate outside England. William Butler Yeats, for instance, was an Irishman and wrote verse with Celtic themes, especially at the beginning of his career (see The Wanderings of Oisin and other poems (1889) and The Wind Among the Reeds (1899). Signalling the movement away from nostalgic-revolutionary Pre-Raphaelite tendencies (in poetry this meant Dante Gabriel Rossetti and his circle) and towards what became known as Modernism. The most important (and certainly the most self-important) movement in 20^th century poetry, Modernism in poetic form begins with American Thomas Stearns Eliot’s Prufrock and other Observations (1917) and the poetry of his fellow American and (later) collaborator Ezra Pound. It was a movement born of disillusionment and intellectual fury, and this is keenly felt in the Modernist novels of Polish Joseph Conrad (Heart of Darkness (1899) etc.) and Irishman James Joyce (A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (1916) especially). Much of the success of Eliot and Pound can be put down to the sheer newness of their writing, integrating foreign tongues and forms, rebelling in lonely intolerance against foolishness and the stagnant waters of post World War I Britain; but also to the fact that they took it upon themselves to become the major critics of the age (and in Eliot’s case a director of poetry publishers Faber). Pound severely but beneficially edited down his friend’s first masterpiece, The Waste Land (1922). It confirmed Eliot as the foremost voice of his generation with its free but often terrifyingly bleak and pessimistic images of a corrupt London. The complex and philosophical Four Quartets (published in complete form 1943) is now seen as Eliot’s crowning achievement and is less experimental than its predecessors. There is nothing in the way of Sanskrit phrases and impressionist verse to deal with. Instead, we are given of a sense of sympathy and humanity - qualities the Anglo- American Modernist movement tended to lack.

The American poetic movement immediately following World War I defied the elitism, mysticism and academic inclination of Eliot, Yeats and Pound. William Carlos Williams, who had known Pound as a friend, saw the man’s decline. Williams called him "an ass", and eventually Pound was driven to criminal insanity. Williams’s early poems have something in common with Joyce’s ‘epiphanies’ (see Williams’s Spring and All (1923) especially "At the Ball Game"). Later poems such as The Desert Music (1954) and Paterson (1946-58) displayed something of the everything-in policy of Modernism (see David Jones In Parenthesis (1927) for similar prose-poetry). Williams was to be the main influence of Allen Ginsberg and through him the Beat movement of the 1950s and beyond. America also had e.e. cummings, whose experiments with poems as they appear on the page were a major influence on the free verse common in the later 20^th century. His poems ("verse" is often the wrong word entirely with Cummings) formed the basis of the Cubist movement of the 1950s that included Dylan Thomas and Mallarme among others and harked back to acrostics and 17^th century poet George Herbert’s The Altar (a poem about an altar in the shape of an altar, no less). Cummings innovated spatially on the page with poems such as "r-p-o-p-h-e-s-s-a-g-r" and "the sky" to such an extent that it is unclear where one starts and finishes reading. Satirical phonetic wordplay (in "ygUDuh" especially) was well within his reach as was pure, sensual beauty ("in Just-/ spring"). There was a purposeful childish simplicity to this poetry, which strained against the excessive ‘adultness’ of European Modernism. Welshman Dylan Thomas shared this instinct and further innovated linguistically (the wonderfully inventive phrase "a grief ago" is typically impressionistic) and spatially.

In England, meanwhile, the ‘Puritan’ simplicity embraced by Wordsworth (see the "Preface" to Lyrical Ballads) had its new exponents in Philip Larkin, John Betjeman and W H Auden. They saw England teeming with contrary images: factory and field; industrial grime and natural purity. Within this stood the poet: lonely, alienated and cynical, like Marvell in The Garden (see Larkin’s The Whitsun Weddings (1964) and High Windows (1974)). Yet, humour and satire filled their poetry. It is telling that Larkin defaced a copy of Spenser’s The Faerie Queene in St. John’s library at Oxford University, wittily declaring a hatred of Chaucer’s Troilus and Criseyde and Beowulf at the same sitting. Tradition, he implied, is bunk. To an extent he correctly gauged the new vanguard of individualist poets, less ignorant than uninterested in classics and complex forms. Modern poets have written from their own experience, or in a stream of images but avoiding literary allusions. Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes alike shared this, taking respectively but probably unknowingly William Carlos Williams’s twin Paterson declarations as if their muse: "no ideas but in the truth" and "no ideas but in things".

In the later 20^th century and early 21st, it has become perfectly possible to eschew modern poetry altogether and feel little shame. Innumerable fine poets such as Simon Armitage and Edwin Morgan simultaneously achieve recognition but condemn themselves by allowing their poems to be anthologized for teenage exams. Poetry has become a matter for study only, and volumes sell in the low thousands at best unless written by the dead or by our sole remaining public poet of any dignity and ambition: Seamus Heaney. Indeed, poetry books make up only 3 of all book sales in England. The lover of verse is best advised to seek the voices set to popular music such as Tom Waits, Neil Young, Leonard Cohen (an exceptional poet before and during his songwriting), Bob Dylan and Nick Cave. We might blame the lack of recent whole-world conflict or fear of God for our poetic decline and look to those shaken by political turmoil for inspiration. In fact, the Anglo-centrism of ‘classic’ poetry – thoroughly endorsed, unfortunately but inevitably, by this brief guide through poetry in English – has ensured that after exploiting oppression, repressed sexuality, bigotry and finally indulging in experimental poetry, we must now listen to those with something to say (American poets such as Ai and Sonia Sanchez spring to mind). This is neither a call to arms nor a declaration of the end of poetry, merely a promise that white male middle-class poetry will now have competition from the other billions of voices that make up the world and can now shout eloquently with a chance of being heard.