This essay examines the literary interchange between Percy Shelley and John Keats through a comparative reading of their poems, ‘The Mask of Anarchy’ and ‘To Autumn’, both of which were written in explicit (Shelley) or implicit (Keats) response to the Peterloo Massacre. Drawing special attention to the formal and stylistic differences between these two poets, I argue that each demonstrates a distinctive attitude towards argument. More particularly, I suggest that Keats and Shelley are uniquely interested in the question of whether or not a poem can make a political claim and, more broadly, in the relationship between politics and aesthetics.

This chapter explores Percy Shelley’s lifelong engagement with ‘empire’ by focusing on some of his major poems. His fascination with the ruins of empires, both ancient and modern, leads to a thorough critical examination of imperial violence. In Prometheus Unbound, Shelley redefines ‘empire’ as self-government that limits imperial dominance, which has far-reaching and international repercussions, as seen in the Gandhians’ resistance against British rule. Shelley goes on to examine the nature of empire in his final unfinished poem, ‘The Triumph of Life’, in which a triumphal chariot, the relentless force of empire originating from ‘Imperial Rome’, continues the cycle of subjugation throughout history. Against this chariot, Shelley places a resisting poet/narrator, who is asked, along with the readers of contemporary and future generations, to undertake the difficult task of envisioning a future unbound by imperial chains after the collapse of ‘empire’.

The poems Wordsworth composed in the years just prior to and immediately after Peterloo bear the imprint of the poet’s concern for the degraded state of Britain and are marked by his fear of social insurrection. Introduced by a reading of Wordsworth’s Autumn poems, ‘September, 1819’ and ‘Upon the Same Occasion’, this chapter proceeds to trace the recurrence of patterns of violent imagining in The River Duddon sonnets, which discover, through their adaptation of the ostensibly pacific but deeply conflicted poetics of the sacred fount tradition, a fitting analogue for the times. The chapter concludes with an account of how the material contradictions underpinning the fluvial tradition are displayed in the arrangement of the three-volume Poems (1820) and four-volume Miscellaneous Poems (1820) and in the sequencing of the Ecclesiastical Sketches (1822). If the river sequence offers the promise of recuperation, it is a genre that inevitably reveals its origins in bloodshed and ruin. Yet, it is from such ruins, as Ecclesiastical Sketches go on to suggest, that forms of peaceable life may once again be salvaged.