Romanticism was a time that rejected the exponential progress unfolding so imminently before our eyes. Science was seen as the end all and be all, rationalizing most things through the lens of it. Alas, various romantic poets professed their intolerance towards the progression of science and rationality quite eloquently in the poems they produced. One noticeable figure would be Lord Byron. He articulated his love for pathless woods that went nowhere, emphasized his warmth towards the lonely, and wallowed in solitude. You can somewhat see in his writing that he took solace in nature while being alone with none other than his thoughts.
Another prominent romantic poet is Percy Shelley whose words emanate imagery so profound it is as if we are living the tale alongside him. He discusses mountains, rivers, waves, and sunlight in depth as to create a setting abundant with nature in all its forms. He paints a picture of warmth in the midst of nature where we needn't think or feel, we need just be present in the virtue of life’s given beauty.
The romantics bring to the table the prolific image of nature at its raw and finest. They shed light on the minimal, which indeed is satiating in a world of complexity. The poems elbow us back into our roots, the crux of what it means to be a human being abundant with the good around us, but more often not that failing to notice it.
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