Title: Allegory and the Baroque Between T.S.

Eliot and Geoffrey Hill

Word Count: 4489

Reference Style: MLA

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Allegory and the Baroque Between T.S. Eliot and Geoffrey Hill

The Baroque was a theme of lasting interest to Geoffrey Hill. As something

explicitly named it is present in his 1968 collection King Log, where the poem ‘Three Baroque
Meditations’ opens with the question ‘Do words make up the majesty/Of man, and his
justice/Between the stones and the void?’ (Broken Hierarchies 66). Thirty years later in The
Triumph of Love (1998) such answers are not any nearer, but the Baroque is once again the
preferred vehicle for a questing insistence upon words which straddle the space between the perfect
and imperfect, the majestic and the void:
‘Amarilli, mia bella? Say it is not
true that mockery is self-debasement
though already I have your answer: We
are to keep faith, even with self-pity,
with faith’s ingenuity, self-rectifying cadence,
perfectly imperfected: e.g., the lyric
art of Spanish baroque, seventeenth—
eighteenth-century Italian song’ (Broken Hierarchies 273)
This essay will try to make sense of such acts of ‘keeping faith’ with the Baroque. My
central claim is the following: the Baroque is an allegory that Hill develops in his later work to
address matters in the Modernist debate around the politics of form. This allegory is what has been
termed ‘historical allegory’ (Halpern 5) or otherwise the figure through which the poet can carry out
‘the struggle with history itself, with the way that, through the stories it tell, history secures the past
and sets limits on the present’ (Lehman 3). Hill’s intervention in the problem of historical
representation in poetry puts him in dialogue with T.S. Eliot, the central figure in the Anglophone
formulation of historical allegory in poetry. Specifically, Hill draws from and rejects Eliot’s reading
of 17th century poetry—the ‘Metaphysical Poets’—and puts forward an alternative way of
conceptualising the relationship between poetry, politics and history both in the 17th century and in
modernity. The essay will explore how through its specific historical determination the Baroque is
particularly useful for Hill’s purposes. Its appearance in Hill’s later works will help us orient
ourselves in the ways history is represented between T.S. Eliot and Geoffrey Hill.
By way of introducing the temporalities and problematics of allegory we can look at the
opening of Eliot’s Burnt Norton:
Time present and time past
Are both perhaps present in time future,

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 And time future contained in time past.
If all time is eternally present
All time is unredeemable.
What might have been is an abstraction
Remaining a perpetual possibility
Only in a world of speculation.
What might have been and what has been
Point to one end, which is always present.
Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we did not take
Towards the door we never opened
Into the rose-garden. My words echo
Thus, in your mind. (Collected Poems 192)
The winding route time takes in this verse is not at all linear or even cyclical. The preferred
mode is that of temporalities co-existing, distinguishable from one another yet ‘present in time
future’ and ‘contained in time past’. Timelessness—or time being ‘eternally present’—is
undesirable, unredeemable but still seems to be our starting point: a ‘perpetual possibility’ that is
immediately undercut by ‘Only in a world of speculation’. We cannot know where we are situated
with regards to time, whether we are in the speaker’s world or its negative; the only sensuous
certainties are echoes of words or footfalls. The attempt to attain knowing through a via negativa
—‘Down the passage which we did not take/Towards the door we never opened’—are rendered
ambivalent by the blasé delivery of the last sentence, its comma surplus to our direct reception of
the speaker’s words—another interruption by doubt where there should have been none.
This attitude towards time, the co-extension of the past into the present and the future yet
their refusal to collapse into each other, along with the ethical inflection of ‘redeeming’ time, lead
us away from metaphysical speculation and into the terrain of allegory. Under allegory, the means
of accessing history depend upon positing an irreducibly temporal category in the present, as
opposed to an atemporal ‘symbol’ that writers can return to from any point in time. The allegory in
the present co-exists with the past, and inscribes itself into the future, without asserting that the past
or the future can be dissolved into the present. Working allegorically enforces a periodisation that
can partially represent history at the moment of its unfolding. In the dialectic which concerns this
essay, it can be said that the time of allegory ‘is the time between the act of grasping the particular
and having grasped the general; it is, therefore, the time between allegory and symbol, or between

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allegory and its own overcoming’ (Lehman 175). Hill’s ‘Baroque’ and Eliot’s ‘Metaphysical’ are to
be seen as irreducibly temporal since their emergence is historically bounded and defined. They
connect with the past not as eternal symbols but as styles that are figured within history. The past is
not transparently accessible to the poet, but through allegorical figuration in the present history can
be represented as an ongoing movement, available to the poet yet not accessible from any moment
outside the historical unfolding of time. History, wherever we may encounter it, is shaded by the
present. Halpern highlights that though historical allegories exist throughout the entire history of
literature, it is only in Modernism that it is raised to a programmatic character, namely by Eliot and
Walter Benjamin: it comes to be seen as the necessary means of encountering history (8). In other
words, allegory is an unavoidable mediation in the historical landscape of the 20th century. Thus,
attending to the mediation—organising it, giving it tone and texture—is where the politics of form
become apparent. The selection of emphases, where choices are made to structure the past into
contemporary meaning are key. To speak of such choices, their condition and purposes is to begin
to speak of a politics of form.
Beginning with 1921’s The Metaphysical Poets, Eliot’s critical activity was to a significant
extent occupied with the promotion of 17th century Anglophone poets. As we shall see, the results
of this activity is the construction of one of the most decisive allegories devised for the reading of
the 17th century, and thus the way poets following Eliot could construe an encounter with earlier
poets in their work. In The Metaphysical Poets Eliot writes of 17th century poetry as being marked
by the ‘telescoping of images and multiplied associations’ which ‘requires considerable agility on
the part of the reader’ (Complete Prose vol. 2 376). Eliot does not opt for any formal features as
defining the Metaphysical poets. Elaborate conceits, syntactic twists and overly intellectual textures
are the means to an end but not the end themselves. These formal features are used with the purpose
of creating a ‘direct sensuous apprehension of thought, or a recreation of thought into feeling’ (379)
so that, for instance, a ‘thought to Donne was an experience; it modified his sensibility.’ These
make for ‘a mechanism of sensibility which could devour any kind of experience’ in the poetry
(380). ‘Metaphysical’, when seen allegorically, could speak of the past as well as it does of the
present. Eliot states ‘it appears likely that poets in our civilization, as it exists at present, must be
difficult’ as ‘the poet must become more and more comprehensive, more allusive, more indirect, in
order to force, to dislocate if necessary, language into his meaning’ (381).
In his Clark Lectures The Varieties of Metaphysical Poetry, Eliot delivers a more systematic
account of the Metaphysical poets. His earlier descriptive and historically circumscribed account of
the allegory becomes a matter of philosophical principle. The successes of the Metaphysical poets is
a function of poetry itself: ‘to fix and make more conscious and precise emotions and feelings [...]

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to draw within the orbit of feeling and sense what had existed only in thought.’ (614) Donne’s
success in poetry, for instance, is an objective enlargement of sensuous possibility, as ‘what is only
ordinarily apprehensible as an intellectual statement, is translated in sensible form’ (616). Through
lines such as the ‘isolation of thought as an object of sense’ and ‘a strange kaleidescope of feeling;
with suggested images, suggested conceits, the feeling is always melting, changing, into another
feeling [...] a kind of unity in flux’ (692) he posits Metaphysical as an ideal of poetry; a success
which—though emerging historically—speaks across time. For Eliot, the Metaphysical poets offer
up metaphors or conceits less than they do images and sensuous sentences. Sensuous sentences
become the bearers of poetic truth since, by moving ideas and concepts into the realm of sense, the
philosophical scepticism around the reality of the world can be overcome. Eliot’s thinking is
grounded in a strong philosophical idealism. His lyrical thinking, likewise, takes place in a space
where history, psychology, the sensations of the body and object are constituted anew through and
within a poem as objects of sense. This is hardly a new criterion for poetry—in 1921’s Andrew
Marvell Eliot makes clear the debt owed to Coleridge for his notion of lyric unity (314)—but
Eliot’s innovation in criticism comes from historicising such notions; asserting that historically the
Metaphysical poets succeed in attaining a form of a poetic truth through their style and thinking.
Crucially, such success is not a permanent discovery; it is a conscious choice of focus and emphasis
which recedes historically with the onset of the ‘dissociation of sensibility’ and the rhetorical
politics of Milton among others.
We are now positioned to compare Eliot’s allegories for the metaphysical with those of
Hill. In Dividing Legacies, Hill takes aim at the foundations of Eliot’s thinking in The Varieties of
Metaphysical Poetry. He diagnoses a problem with Eliot’s reticence to demonstrate how his
newfound critical notions could result in terms of utility for critics. The problem is presented as one
of a mismatch between Eliot’s tone and pitch—figures that for Hill characterise whole phrases and
sentences (tone) or single syllables and pronouns (pitch), with the latter composing the contour of
the former (Robinson 265). Parsing this into the critique of Eliot, Hill claims that it means a great
number of figures Eliot would create as part of his commentary on Metaphysical literature—figures
such as the ‘sensuous apprehension of thought’—are tautologies, positing, instead of discovering,
the sensuous interest that Metaphysical poetry was meant to fulfil. Hill holds that ‘a discovery of
the pitch of Donne’s language […] would also be a recognition of the sensuous interest of those
poems’ (Collected Critical Writings 376): poems are compositional, and to be read up from their
pitch into their tone rather than at the level of tone alone, their working with conceits and textures in
abstraction. This oversight, argues Hill, leads Eliot astray. Eliot’s critical intuitions, coming with a
heavy idealist philosophical baggage, can only be correct in an approximate way but leave no space

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to talk about the poems and what is produced through them (373). While praising Eliot’s ‘acute’
scholarly intuition, Hill highlights that the account of the effect of the poems leave several gaps in
the explanation of how they are produced—gaps which Eliot fills out with spurious notions such as
‘psychologism’ (370). Hill’s general criticism of Eliot is therefore not one of his project as such but
its failure to provide the terms for an appropriate appraisal of Metaphysical poets. It is, I would
argue, also a critique of Eliot’s allegories; the way his historical emphases miss the mark by drifting
into an idealism where the sense of the mind, rather than that of words in their circumstance is
decisive.
Hill’s own Clark Lectures published as The Enemy’s Country utilises similar materials to
those used by Eliot sixty years earlier to make a case for poetry as a form of attention and
negotiation. In contrast to Eliot, the allegories Hill posits concern themselves with judgement,
conduct and the response to circumstance. Addressing poetry in a similar register to Eliot’s own
lectures, he says that the essential facts are ‘that a poet’s words and rhythms are not his utterance so
much as his resistance’ (CCW 179). The doubleness of this phrase—implying both that a poet’s
words are not their own as well as the fact that every poetic utterance is a ‘resistance’ to the
circumstance that makes such words not the poet’s own—is read through poets such as Dryden and
more peripheral figures in Izaak Walton and Henry Wotton. The latter two are key for they
represent a contrast and continuum with Donne; writing in styles that though contemporaneous are
less than Metaphysical, but both doing so out of careers in writing and diplomacy that were more
successful than Donne’s own. Whereas Eliot sees Donne’s poetic voice as the result of a
quintessentially modern man who in apostasy had left his religion, leading him astray from a
systematic account of the world and instead settling for a psychological desire to force everything
that met his eye into a sensuous conceit or metaphor, Hill sees this dynamic as the result of Donne’s
struggle to have his ‘individual poetic voice [...] realize its own power amid, and indeed out of, that
worldly business which makes certain desires and ambitions unrealizable’ (CCW 217). The writer
cannot ‘fancy himself above the gravitational field of the negotium’ of language (CCW 188); and it
should be apparent that the figures of ‘business’, ‘circumstance’ and ‘negotium’ are the source of
Hill’s allegories, his thinking of the past through the present and the present through the past. The
addition of a fourth, ‘judgement’, gives a robust idea of what Hill held to be the sort of life out of
which writing must necessarily occur: ‘It is of course a matter of common observation that the
actual mechanics of quotidian life, whether in the seventeenth or the present century, are inevitably
a matter of ambivalent regard’ (CCW 184). What, then, is this ‘ambivalent regard’, and how can it
be an allegory, reading across to the 17th century from the 20th century?

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 Donne’s The Triple Fool presents an attention to words in their circumstance which can help
us see where the ‘pitched’ inflections of a verse can develop into an allegorical figuration. We see
how the poet, twice a fool for being a lover and ‘for saying so/In whining poetry’ seeks to lessen his
grief ‘through rhyme’s vexation’. The attempt to control the feeling of grief ‘by numbers’, to fetter
‘it in verse’, however, escapes the poet in the next stanza:
But when I have done so,
Some man, his art and voice to show,
Doth set and sing my pain;
And, by delighting many, frees again
Grief, which verse did restrain.
To love and grief tribute of verse belongs,
But not of such as pleases when 'tis read.
Both are increased by such songs,
For both their triumphs so are published,
And I, which was two fools, do so grow three;
Who are a little wise, the best fools be. (The Complete English Poems 81)
‘Some man, his art and voice to show’ is set immediately before ‘my’ pain, the determinacy
of which maximally contrasts with the indeterminacy of the readers of this verse in the preceding
line as well as the ‘delighting many’ of the following. It is nothing within the verse itself that
withholds the poet’s control over their grief—the verse is in measure throughout and is carried
strongly by its couplets. Instead, it is the unknown public which ‘frees again/Grief’ and renders the
poet’s attempts useless. Donne dramatises a negotiation between a poet and the circumstance
surrounding their speaking, an encounter out of which the best fool emerges: the one who grows to
be ‘a little wise, the best fools be’. The third fool can address the others from a position of
experience, his greater wisdom attained ironically from his own grief as he himself is the poet
trying to manage it in verse. The poet being twice a fool at the start becomes thrice a fool when he
loses control over his words, yet comes the better of it. A recurrent phrase in Hill’s late poetry and
criticism is that of poetry being ‘self-rectifying’. For the Metaphysicals Hill says, ‘language seems
able to hover above itself in a kind of brooding, contemplative, self-rectifying way’ (‘The Art of
Poetry’ 283). This process could be like the emergence of the third fool in Donne’s poem: out of
circumstance, defined both by irony as well as a wry wisdom. We can turn again to Hill’s lines
quoted at the introduction (‘to keep faith’s ingenuity, self-rectifying cadence,/perfectly
imperfected’) as making contact with the type of self-regarding wisdom encountered in Donne.

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What Hill does, however, is describe it as Baroque, establishing it as a temporal category in the
present—a historical allegory.
To see the role of Hill’s use of the Baroque as historical allegory, it is first necessary to
explore the meanings and associations ‘Baroque’ attained throughout the 20th century. The OED
definition for ‘Baroque’ states ‘Irregularly shaped; whimsical, grotesque, odd.’ It adds that it is
‘applied specially to a florid style of architectural decoration which arose in Italy in the late
Renaissance and became prevalent in Europe during the 18th century’. It is only in the late 19th
century that the OED cites examples that evince an association of ‘Baroque’ with a historic era. In
his mid-20th century overview of the term in literary studies, René Wellek notes that ‘baroque’
begins to be used to describe European literatures of the 17th century in contrast to those of the
Renaissance following Heinrich Wölfflin’s significant 1888 study Renaissance und Barock. By the
mid-1920s this approach had permeated throughout Europe as an evaluative framework for 17th
century culture as a whole, and gets particularly identified with Italian Manierismo and Spanish
Conceptismo and Culteranismo (Wellek 80). Nevertheless, Wellek does not find any formal or
historical feature to define the Baroque—only claiming a contrast with the Renaissance, which itself
is similarly ill-defined and overlaps extensively with the Baroque. Wellek states that the best use of
‘Baroque’ is to coordinate emergent aesthetic trends with post-Renaissance political developments
and in particular those pertaining to the counter-reformation. For this he singles out a ‘Baroque’
trend which anticipates the work of Hill’s poetry: the attention to ‘tensions of the lyrical motion’
that find expression ‘in syntactic contortions, in the heaving up of the heavy burden of language’
(Wellek 94).
English-language theorisations of the baroque for the majority of the 20th century are
relatively scarce compared to their European counterparts. A rare and influential exception is that of
translator and critic J.M. Cohen—from whose work Hill would base significant portions of his 1978
book Tenebrae. Cohen’s The Baroque Lyric takes up a Wölfflin-influenced line on the baroque
being a distinct and international cultural mode. He singles out that the key Baroque sensitivity is an
awareness of time: the idea that the world is ‘fleeting, changeable and transitory’ in contrast to
eternal or perfectible as in the Renaissance (Cohen 15). The world seen through Baroque eyes is in
flux, for which what could be described is no more than an appearance. Yet this appearance is self-
consciously temporal, under the aspect of eternity the experience of time becomes ‘contingent and
manipulatable’ (Nelson 161), opening it to an unprecedented range of semantic and syntactic
invention. The hallmarks of the style such as originality of metaphor, the conscious cultivation of
strangeness and exaggeration are read as being similar to those of the literatures emerging out of
historical crises in the modern era (Cohen 31). A parallel, less historical end of the spectrum in

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early theories of the Baroque spoke of it as style that is instead atemporal. Eugenio D’Ors in his
1935 book Lo Barroco presented Baroque as a fully ahistorical ‘constant’ standing, amidst the
Fallen world, for the world of reality and of things ‘exactly as they are’ (Davidson 13). The D’Ors-
inflected strand of thinking of the Baroque does away with the negative associations the word
would have with artifice, the ornamental, conceited or overwrought. It draws a positive, mimetic
valence to the term that align it with another modern notion—that artifice and extremity are the
means to truth.
It is notable that Eliot hardly makes a mention of ‘Baroque’ in his Clark lectures. His only
mention of the term comes from Mario Praz’s landmark 1925 study Secentismo e marinismo in
Inghilterra—a book for which he would write a glowing review in the December 1925 Times
Literary Supplement. In a short period of time Praz’s study was significant enough to Eliot for him
to place it at the top of the reading list for the first of the lectures in January 1926 ( Complete Prose
vol. 2 623). Eliot speaks of a ‘Baroque art’ (682) as well as a ‘Baroque period’ (698) that, save for
Crashaw, is largely presented as external to the writing of the other Metaphysical poets. It cannot be
doubted, however, that the aforementioned developments in the 19th and 20th-century literature on
the Baroque had influenced Eliot’s thinking, and in particular his willingness to generalise his
notions of the Metaphysical contortion of language into sense as being a tendency that was not just
exclusive to Anglophone literature and could be raised allegorically to speak for a definite
development in history. Hill does not address the Baroque itself in any of his critical writings, but
this lack is more than made up by the term’s proliferation in his later poetry. It should be possible to
read the Baroque’s increasing appearancess in Hill’s late poems as trying to address, within the
imaginative space of the poem, historical legacies which bear a relationship to his previously
developed notions of the lyric poem being an occasion for the negotiation and judgement of
circumstance. In other words, the Baroque is an attempted figuration for something otherwise
inchoate in history; it is both an allegory as well as a candidate for an allegory, a provisional
historicisation of the 17th century and modernity onto which otherwise orphan notions of linguistic
negotiation could attach themselves. In Orchards of Syon V:
Baroque says nothing broken, though to break
off labours the point,
and it judders and all.
Nonetheless I would clinch this
as music’s invocation, the tuned
drums glissando. You
can elide changes of pressure. I believe

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 creation ís self-healing, a self-stanched
issue of blood. It is also
furtherance of slow exile, but enjoy—
best to enjoy—riding that vague. (Broken Hierarchies 273)
In Hill’s characteristic late style, Orchards of Syon concerns itself with its own genesis as
lyrical poetry. The landscapes of childhood, the physical makeup of the environment and the history
and sounds which precede the poem are all entry points into Hill’s meditation upon the act of poetic
creation. This particular section presents the Baroque as both an instrument of eloquence (‘says
nothing broken’) and an occasion for music that invokes the poem ahead. The wordplay on ‘break’
and on ‘Baroque’ itself—exploiting its doubleness as a term for literature as well as a period of
music—welcomes historical consideration, an attention to how the lyric poem manages its own
historical referents. Once again ‘self-rectifying’, or in this case ‘self-healing’, figures next to the
Baroque, communicating a formal composure that will take both the reader and the poet into the
‘furtherance of slow exile’ while at the same time rendering the journey pleasant, making it the
occasion for painless self-examination. Later, the poem turns upon the same broken landscape that
would be the condition for the turn towards allegory in the 20th century: ‘So much/of time is rubble.
Under the sky’s/great clearances, not oúr time only.’ By forcing the stress on ‘our’, the lyric speaker
merges their circumstance with the reader; the inevitability of knowing through fragments and
figuring them as allegories is contrasted with the great canopy that envelops both. Reflecting
optimistically on the occasion of the Baroque as one of music and pleasure, Hill gives the figure a
value that is central in the occasion of poetry and the possible appreciations available to readers at
various points in history.
It is in keeping with the flexibility of Baroque as an allegory that Hill uses it in Speech!
Speech! 77:
Revive the antimasque of baroque
methane: time and death—that rot, a fake
Shakespearean girning, a mouth’s pained O,
the soul exhaled as a perfect smoke-ring,
clownish efforts made to bind the corpse jaw,
skeletal geezers like kids again with bad
joke book toothache, Dr Donne’s top-knot shroud, (Broken Hierarchies 327)
If the Baroque in Orchards of Syon is figured lyrically and musically, the form it attains here
is that of cacophony and artifice. The ‘mouth’s pained O’ literally presents the strain the verse

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undergoes to rhyme. Baroque becomes a byword for a distasteful aesthetic of extreme conceit (‘the
soul exhaled as a perfect smoke-ring’) and clownish excess. As a large proportion of the poems in
Speech! Speech! the tone is imperative; it is unclear who is making the statement or what their
purpose is. The reader must navigate the force of speech and the hidden extent of its meanings and
implications. We are closer here to a conception of historical allegory as politics, a struggle over
representation and meaning of history seen through the present. The lyric speaker returns to
interject in Speech! Speech! 78: ‘But still, my brothers and sisters, baroque/ ís beautiful. You also
have beauty’, a statement which rings hollow due to the unnatural stress on ‘is’ and the curt, almost
dismissive assertion that Baroque is nevertheless beautiful. If, as Jeffrey Wainwright argues,
Speech! Speech! acts upon ‘the world as chaos where meanings are so cross-wired as to carry no
import’ (100) and questions where interlocutors can situate themselves to be in a circumstance of
right judgement, ‘Baroque’ calls upon an extensive history of aesthetic judgements which have been
the grounds through which values such as beauty and truth have been said to be found, and renders
such pretensions to stability dynamic and open to circumstance.
There remains much to be said for Hill’s Baroques and in particular his translations of
Spanish Golden Age materials in Tenebrae, the ongoing themes of staging and drama in Scenes
from Comus and the relation to ‘eloquence’ and the legacy of classical rhetoric in modernity across
his entire body of work. This essay has focused primarily on the poetics of history that enable the
Baroque to be an useful figure for Hill and the way such uses correlate to a reply to Eliot’s
influential account of the Metaphysical poets. Hill, unlike Eliot, rarely gives an overt account of his
poetics—it has to be gleaned from his criticism and the variations and recurrences in his preferred
figures. I have attempted to argue that the Baroque is precisely one such figure, and therefore merits
the attention any figure with the possibility of resonating with Hill’s highly personal outlook
deserves.

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Works Cited
‘baroque, adj. and n.’ OED Online, Oxford University Press, December 2018,
www.oed.com/view/Entry/15685. Accessed 6 January 2019.
Cohen, J.M. The Baroque Lyric. Hutchinson University Library, 1963.
Davidson, Peter. The Universal Baroque. Manchester University Press, 2007.
Donne, John. The Complete English Poems. Edited by A.J. Smith, Penguin, 1971.
Eliot, T.S. Collected Poems 1909 – 1962. Faber and Faber, 2002.
Eliot, T.S. The Complete Prose of T.S. Eliot Critical Edition, Volume 2: The Perfect Critic
1919 – 1926. Edited by Anthony Cuda and Ronald Schuchard, Faber and Faber and the Johns
Hopkins University Press, 2014.
Halpern, Richard. Shakespeare among the Moderns. Cornell University Press, 1997.
Hill, Geoffrey. ‘The Art of Poetry: Interview by Carl Phillips.’ Paris Review, Spring 2000,
pp. 273 – 299.
Hill, Geoffrey. Broken Hierarchies: Poems 1952 – 2012. Edited by Kenneth Haynes,
Oxford UP, 2013.
Hill, Geoffrey. Collected Critical Writings. Edited by Kenneth Haynes, Oxford UP, 2008.
Lehman, Robert S. Impossible Modernism: T.S. Eliot, Walter Benjamin, and the Critique of
Historical Reason. Stanford University Press, 2016.
Nelson, Lowry Jr. Baroque Lyric Poetry. Yale University Press, 1961.
Robinson, Peter. ‘Toiling in a Pitch.’ The Cambridge Quarterly, vol. 26, no. 3, 1 January
1997, Pages 263–269. https://doi.org/10.1093/camqtly/XXVI.3.263.
Wainwright, Jeffrey. Acceptable Words: Essays on the Poetry of Geoffrey Hill. Manchester
University Press, 2005.
Wellek, René. ‘The Concept of the Baroque in Literary Scholarship.’ The Journal of
Aesthetics and Art Criticism, vol. 5, no. 2, December 1946, pp. 77 – 109. . JSTOR, JSTOR,
www.jstor.org/stable/425797.

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