Chapter VI (2)
Nay, || but this dotage of our general's
O'erflows the measure: || those his goodly eyes,
That o'er the files | and musters of the war
Have glowed like plated Mars, || now bend, | now turn,
The office and devotion of their view
Upon a tawny front: || his captain's heart,
Which | in the scuffles of great fights | hath burst
The buckles on his breast, || rene[a]g[u]es all temper,
And is become | the bellows and the fan
To cool a gipsy's lust.
(_Antony and Cleopatra._)
(Here the double division marks indicate stronger, and the single lighter, _pauses_--not, as usually in the latter case, _feet_. The variation of the pause for paragraph effect is here consummate; but the verse, as its conditions require, is of the severer type.)
(4) Perfection in passion:
Blow winds, | and crack | your cheeks! | rage! | blow!
You cat|aracts | and hur|rica|noes, spout
Till you | have drench'd | our stee|ples, drown'd | the cocks!
You sul|phurous and | thought-ex|ecut|ing fires,
Vaunt-cour|iers to | oak-cleav|ing thun|derbolts,
Singe my | white head! | And thou, | all-shak|ing thunder,
Smite flat | the thick | rotund|ity o' | the world!
Crack na|ture's moulds, | all ger|mens spill | at once,
That make | ingrate|ful man!
(_King Lear._)
(Every extension taken. Monosyllabic feet either at the first "blow" and "winds," or the last, and "rage," perhaps at both (an Alexandrine). Trisyllabic at "-phŭrŏus ānd," "rĭĕrs tō," and "ĭty̆ ō̆'." Redundance at "-ing thun⋮der." Pause fully played upon as above: enjambment at "spout"; parenthetic enjambment at "fires.")
(5) Perfection in quiet:
Our rev|els now | are end|ed. These | our actors,
As I | foretold | you, were | all spir|its, and
Are melt|ed in|to air, | into | thin air:
And, like | the base|less fab|ric of | this vision,
The cloud-|capped towers, | the gor|geous pal|aces,
The sol|emn tem|ples, the | great globe | itself,
Yea, all | which it | inher|it, shall | dissolve
And, like | this in|substan|tial pa|geant faded,
Leave not | a rack | behind. | We are | such stuff
As dreams | are made | of, and | our lit|tle life
Is round|ed with | a sleep.
(_The Tempest._)
(Not much trisyllabic--the dreaminess not requiring it. A good deal of redundance, and enjambment pushed nearly to the furthest by taking place at "and."[40])
(_f_) Redundance encroaching.
Beaumont and Fletcher:
"Oh | thou conqu[e]ror,
Thou glo|ry of | the world | once, now | _the pity_:
Thou awe | of na|tions, where|fore didst | _thou fail us_?
What poor | fate fol|lowed thee, | and plucked | thee on
To trust | thy sa|cred life | to an | _Egyptian_?
The life | and light | of Rome | to a | _blind stranger_,
_That hon|oura|ble war | ne'er taught | a no|bleness_
Nor wor|thy cir|cumstance | show'd what | _a man was_?
That ne|ver heard | thy name | sung but | _in banquets_
And loose | lasciv|ious pleas|ures? to | a boy
That had | no faith | to com|prehend | _thy greatness_,
No stud|y of | thy life | to know | _thy goodness_?...
_Egyp|tians, dare | you think | your high | pyra|mides_
Built to | out-dure | the sun, | as you | suppose,
Where your | unworth|y kings | lie rak'd | _in ashes_,
Are mon|uments fit | for him! | No, brood | _of Nilus_,
Nothing | can cov|er his | high fame | _but heaven_;
No pyr|amid | set off | his mem|ories,
But the | eter|nal sub|stance of | _his greatness_,
To which I leave him."
(_The False One._)
(Here it will be seen there are two actual Alexandrines (_three_ if we allow the full value to "con|queror|") and _twelve_ redundant lines to _four_ non-redundant! The fire of the poetry fuses this, but cannot always be counted on, as in the next.)
(2) If I | had swelled | the sol|dier, or | _intended_
An act | in per|son lean|ing to | _dishonour_,
As you | would fain | have forced | me, _wit|ness Heaven_,
Where clear|est und|erstand|ing of | _all truth is_
(For men | are spite|ful men, | and know | _no pi[e]ty_).
When O|lin came, | grim O|lin, when | _his marches_,
etc., etc., etc.
(_The Loyal Subject._)
(Which, with its repetition of stumbling amphibrachic ends, is rather hideous.)
(_g_) Spread of the infection, and complete decay of blank verse from various causes.
(1) Shirley:
I dare,
With conscience or my pure intent, try what
Rudeness you find upon my lip, 'tis chaste
As the desires that breathe upon _my language_.
I began, Felisarda, to _affect thee_
By seeing thee at prayers; thy virtue winged
Love's arrows first, and 'twere a sacrilege
To choose thee now for sin, that hast a power
To make | this place | a tem|ple by | thy in|nocence.
I know thy poverty, and came not to
Bribe it against thy chastity; if thou
Vouchsafe thy fair and honest love, it shall
Adorn my fortunes which shall stoop to serve it
In spite of friends or destiny.
(_The Brothers._)
(Actual _scansion_ quite correct, and therefore not marked throughout. Redundance not excessive ("innocence" may be taken as such, and not as making an Alexandrine, if liked); hardly any, and no misused, trisyllabic feet. But enjambment at "what," "to," "thou," and "shall" badly managed.)
(2) Suckling:
Softly, | as death | itself | comes on
When it | doth steal | away | the sick | man's breath,
And standers-by perceive it not,
Have I trod the way unto their lodgings.
How wisely do those powers
That give | us hap|piness or|der it!
(_Aglaura._)
(A hopeless jumble. The 1st, as a fragment, and 2nd lines are all right, and the 6th could be completed properly. But 3, 4, and 5--though 3 and 5 _could_ come in with other companions--upset any kind of continuous arrangement, and 4 would hardly be good anywhere.)
(3) Davenant:
Rhodolinda doth become her title
And her birth. Since deprived of popular
Homage, she hath been queen over her great self.
In this captivity ne'er passionate
But when she hears me name the king, and then
Her passions not of anger taste but love:
Love of her conqueror; he that in fierce
Battle (when the cannon's sulphurous breath
Clouded the day) her noble father slew.
(_Albovine._)
(More hopeless still, and left unscanned for the student's edification.)
(_h_) The Miltonic Restoration.
Early dramatic experiment.
_Comus_ is evidently written under three different influences, which may be said to be in the main those of Marlowe, Shakespeare, and Fletcher. The poet often uses Fletcher's heavy trisyllabic endings--
Bore a bright golden flower, but not | ĭn thĭ̄s sŏ̄il;
and has not infrequent Alexandrines, the most certain of which is--
As to | make this | rela|tion.
Care | and ut|most shifts.
But he makes the verse more and more free and original, as in the following extracts:
Yea, there | where ve|ry des|ola|tion dwells,
By grots | and ca|verns shagged | with hor|rid shades,
She may | pass on | with un|blenched maj|esty,
Be it | not done | in pride | or in | presump|tion.
Some say | no ev|il thing | that walks | by night,
In fog | or fire, | by lake | or moor|ish fen,
Blue mea|gre hag, | or stub|born un|laid ghost,
That breaks | his mag|ic chains | at cur|few time,
No gob|lin or |swart fa|ery of | the mine,
Hath hurt|ful power | o'er true | virgin|ity.
Do ye | believe | me yet, | or shall | I call
Anti|quity | from the | old schools | of Greece
To test|ify | the arms | of chas|tity?
Hence had | the hunt|ress Di|an her | dread bow,
Fair sil|ver-shaft|ed queen | for ev|er chaste,
Wherewith | she tamed | the brind|ed li|oness
And spot|ted moun|tain-pard, | but set | at nought
The fri|vŏlŏus bōlt | of Cu|pid; gods | and men
Feared her | stern frown, | and she | was queen | ŏ' thĕ wōods.
. . . . . . .
Methought it was the sound
Of riot and ill-managed merriment,
Such as the jocund flute or gamesome pipe
Stirs up among the loose unlettered hinds,
When, for their teeming flocks and granges full,
In wanton dance they praise the bounteous Pan,
And thank the gods amiss.
(The full comments given on previous passages make it unnecessary to annotate this much. The last passage has the full paragraph combination.[41])
XXIII. EXAMPLES OF ELIZABETHAN LYRIC
(_a_) Prae-Spenserian:
Not light | of love, la|dy,
Though fan|cy do prick | thee,
Let con|stancy | possess | thy heart:
Well wor|thy of blam|yng
They be | and defam|ing,
From plight|ed troth | which back | do start.
Dear dame!
Then fick|leness ban|ish
And fol|ly extin|guish,
Be skil|ful in guid|ing,
And stay | thee from slid|ing,
And stay | thee,
And stay | thee!
(_Gorgeous Gallery of Gallant Inventions_ (1578).)
(Anapæstic substitution (if not definite anapæstic base) arising doubtless rather from _tune_ than from deliberate prosodic purpose; but quite prosodically correct, and sure to propagate itself.)
(_b_) Post-Spenserian:
My bon|ny lass, | thine eye,
So sly
Hath made | me sor|row so--
Thy crim|son cheeks, | my dear,
So clear,
Have so | much wrought | my woe,
(_Phœnix Nest_ (1593).)
(Pure iambics; effect produced by short "bob" rhymes.)
(_c_) Ben Jonson (strict common measure):
Drīnk tŏ | me on|ly with | thine eyes
And I | will pledge | with mine;
Or leave | a kiss | but in | the cup
And I'll | not look | for wine.
The thirst | that from | the soul | doth rise
Doth ask | a drink | divine;
But might | I of | Jōve's nēc|tar sip,
I would | not change | for thine.
(As mostly with Ben, strict iambics, save for the opening trochee, and something like a spondee in "Jove's nec-." The wonderful effect which he, or Donne, or the Spirit of the Age, taught to the next two generations is produced entirely by careful choice and fingering of the words and rhymes.)
(_d_) Ben Jonson (anapæstic measure):
See the cha|riot at hand | here of Love!
Wherein | my La|dy rid|eth.
Each that draws | is a swan | or a dove,
And well | the car | Love guid|eth.
As she goes, | all hearts | do du|ty
Unto | her beau|ty;
And enam|oured do wish, | so they might
But enjoy | such a sight,
That they still | were to run | by her side
Th[o]rough ponds, | th[o]rough seas, | whither she | would ride.
("Through," as often, is probably to be valued "thorough," and "chariot" was generally "chawyot" or "charret." It will be observed that although this is fine it is slightly laboured. The age was hardly at ease with the anapæst as yet.)
(_e_) Campion (selections):
{ _English_ Fōllŏw, | fōllŏw,
{ _anacreontic._ Though with | mischief
{ Armed like | whirlwind
{ How she | flies still.
{
{ _English_ Constant | to none, | but ev|er false | to me,
(1) { _elegiac._ Traitor | still to | love through thy | false
Classical { desires,
{ Not hope | of pit|y now, |nor vain | redress,
{ Turns my | grief to | tears and
{ re|newed la|ments.
{
{ _English_ Rose-|cheeked Lau|ra, come;
{ _iambic._ Sing | thou smooth|ly with | thy beauty's
{ Sil|ent mu|sic, ei|ther other
{ Sweet|ly gracing.
{ Fōllŏw thȳ făir sūn, ŭnhāppy̆ shādŏw!
{ Thŏugh thōu | bĕ blāck ăs nīght,
{ And she | made all | of light,
{ Yet fol|low thy | fair sun,| unhap|py shadow!
(2) {
Natural { Break now,| my heart, | and die! | O no, | she may | relent--
{ Let my | despair | prevail! O stay, | hope is | not spent.
{ Should she | now fix | one smile | on thee, | where were |
{ despair?
{ The loss | is but ea|sy which smiles | can repair;
{ A stran|ger would please | thee, if she | were as fair.
The student should require little assistance here, odd as some of the rhythms may seem. But "Rose-cheeked Laura" ought to be _trochaically_ scanned, and will then be _naturally_ "English." Nothing can make the "English elegiac" harmonious. Note that line 3 of "Break now" _may_ be anapæstic like 4 and 5:
Shŏuld shĕ nōw | fĭx ŏne smīle, etc.[42]
XXIV. EARLY CONTINUOUS ANAPÆSTS
(_a_) Tusser (1st ed. 1557; complete, 1573):
Now leeks | are in sea|son for pot|tage full good,
And spar|eth the milch | cow and purg|eth the blood:
These hav|ing with pea|son for pot|tage in Lent,
Thou spar|est both oat|meal and bread | to be spent.
(Perfectly good, though not very euphonious.)
(_b_) Gifford, H. (1580):
If I | should write rash|ly what comes | in my train
It might | be such mat|ter as likes | you not best,
And ra|ther I would | great sor|row sustain
Than not | to fulfil | your law|ful request.
(_c_) _Mary Ambree_ (_c._ 1584):
[When] cap|tains coura|geous whom death | could [not] daunt
[Did march | to the siege of] the ci|ty of Gaunt,
They mus|tered their sol|diers by two | and by three,
And the fore|most in bat|tle was Ma|ry Ambree.
(Percy patched the bracketed words (his copy being evidently corrupt) in lines 1 and 2. But 3 and 4 are exactly as in the folio; and their anapæstic base is quite clear. At the same time, it is worth remarking that these early lines are apt, frequently though not regularly, to buttress their start on a dissyllabic foot.)
XXV. THE ENJAMBED HEROIC COUPLET (1580-1660)
(_a_) Spenser.
The very opening of _Mother Hubberd's Tale_ (1591), quoted above (p. 62) in its stopped aspect, shows the way to enjambment:
It was | the month | in which | the right|eous Maid,
That for | disdain | of sin|ful world's | upbraid,
Fled back | to heaven.
And we have, further, an instance as shocking to "regular" prosodists as anything in the seventeenth century:
Whilome, | said she, | before | the world | was civil,
The Fox | and th' Ape, | _dislik|ing of | their evil
And hard | estate_.
(_b_) Marlowe--as remarkable in _Hero and Leander_ for this as for "single-moulding" in blank verse:
Where the ground
Was strewed with pearl, and in low coral groves
Sweet-singing mermaids sported with their loves
On heaps of heavy gold.
(_c_) Drayton began with fairly separated couplets; but indulged in overrunning later, as in _David and Goliath_:
Grim vis|age war | more stern|ly doth | awake
Than it | was wont | and _fur|ĭŏusly̆̄
Her light|ning sword_.
(_d_) Browne:
It chanced one morn, clad in a robe of grey,
And blushing oft, as rising to betray,
Enticed this lovely maiden from her bed
(So when the roses have discoverèd
Their taintless beauties, flies the early bee
About the winding alleys merrily)
Into the wood, and 'twas her usual sport,
Sitting where most harmonious birds resort,
To imitate their warbling in Aprìl,
Wrought by the hand of Pan, which she did fill
Half full of water.
(The actual verse-sentence does not end for another half-dozen lines; but the scansion is so perfectly regular that it seems unnecessary to mark it. "Aprìl" is quite Spenserian, and has both Latin and French justification.)
(_e_) The later seventeenth-century enjambers:
_Chalkhill._ The rebels, as you heard, being driven hence,
Despairing e'er to expiate their offence
By a too late submission, fled to sea
In such poor barks as they could get, where they
Roamed up and down, which way the winds did please,
Without a chart or compass: the rough seas
Enraged with such a load of wickedness,
Grew big with billows, great was their distress;
Yet was their courage greater; desperate men
Grow valianter with suffering: in their ken
Was a small island, thitherward they steer
Their weather-beaten barks, each plies his gear;
Some row, some pump, some trim the ragged sails,
All were employed and industry prevails.
(_Thealma and Clearchus_, 2203-2216.)
_Marmion._ When you are landed, and a little past
The Stygian ferry, you your eyes shall cast
And spy some busy at their wheel, and these
Are three old women, called the Destinies.
(_Cupid and Psyche_, iii. 259-262.)
_Chamberlayne._ But ere the weak Euriolus (for he
This hapless stranger was) again could be
By strength supported, base Amarus, who
Could think no more than priceless thanks was due
For all his dangerous pains, more beastly rude
Than untamed Indians, basely did exclude
That noble guest: which being with sorrow seen
By Ammida, whose prayers and tears had been
His helpless advocates, she gives in charge
To her Ismander--till that time enlarge
Her than restrained desires, he entertain
Her desolate and wandering friend. Nor vain
Were these commands, his entertainment being
Such as observant love thought best agreeing
To her desires.
(_Pharonnida_, IV. iii. 243-256.)
(The same remark applies here as to Browne. Some of these poets are indeed great "apostrophators," such things as "t'" for "to," "b'" for "by," and "'s" for "his" being common. But these uglinesses are generally resorted to in order to attain or keep the strict decasyllabic. Chalkhill (an actual Elizabethan, if he was anything) is less shy of at least apparent trisyllabics, as in "bĕĭng drīv|en," "ex|pĭăte thēir.|" The double rhyme of "sea" to "they" and "seas" to "please" is worth noticing; _v. sup._ Rule 34, p. 34.)
XXVI. THE STOPPED HEROIC COUPLET (1580-1660)
(_a_) Spenser (_Mother Hubberd's Tale_), _v. sup._ p. 62.
(_b_) Drayton (_Heroical Epistles_, "Suffolk to Margaret"):
We all do breathe upon this earthly ball,
Likewise one Heav'n encompasseth us all;
No banishment can be to us assigned
Who doth retain a true resolved mind;
Man in himself a little world doth bear,
His soul the monarch ever ruling there;
Wherever then his body doth remain
He is a king that in himself doth reign.
(Here all the characteristics of the eighteenth-century couplet may be found--the central cæsura or split, the balance of the two halves, the completion of sense in the couplet and almost in the line.)
(_c_) Fairfax (end couplets):
If fictious light I mix with Truth Divine
And fill these lines with other praise than Thine. (i. 2.)
We further seek what their offences be:
Guiltless I quit; guilty I set them free. (ii. 5.)
Thro' love the hazard of fierce war to prove,
Famous for arms, but famous more for love. (iii. 40.)
In fashions wayward, and in love unkind,
For Cupid deigns not wound a currish mind. (iv. 46.)
(Observe here the tendency, not merely to balance, but to positive antithesis, in the halves.)
(_d_) Beaumont, Sir John:
The relish of the Muse consists in rhyme:
One verse must meet another like a chime.
Our Saxon shortness hath peculiar grace
In choice of words fit for the ending-place,
Which leave impression in the mind as well
As closing sounds of some delightful bell.
(_e_) Sandys.
Compare the openings of _Job_ I. and II.:
In Hus, a land which near the sun's uprise
And northern confines of Sabæa lies,
A great example of perfection reigned,
His name was Job, his soul with guilt unstained.
* * * * *
Again when all the radiant sons of light
Before His throne appeared, Whose only sight
Beatitude infused; the Inveterate Foe,
In fogs ascending from the depth below,
Profaned their blest assembly.
(_f_) Waller:
With the sweet sound of this harmonious lay
About the keel delighted dolphins play;
Too sure a sign of sea's ensuing rage
Which must anon this royal troop engage;
To whom soft sleep seems more secure and sweet
Within the town commanded by our fleet.
(_g_) Cowley (_Davideis_):
Lo! with pure hands thy heavenly fire to take,
My well-chang'd muse I a pure vestal make.
From Earth's vain joys and Love's soft witchcraft free,
I consecrate my Magdalene to thee.
Lo, this great work, a temple to thy praise
On polish'd pillars of strong verse I raise--
A temple where if thou vouchsafe to dwell
It Solomon's and Herod's shall excel.
(It should be observed on these that in Beaumont, Sandys I., Waller, and Cowley the separation of the couplets is strictly maintained; in Sandys II. not. In fact, this passage, but for the rhymes, has almost the run of Miltonic blank verse. Waller once approaches an initial trochee or "inversion of accent" in "With the." Here Cowley is pretty regular. But not far off may be found such a line as--
Themselves at first against themselves _they excite_;
where he must either have intended "they-ex-" to be elided or have meant an anapæstic ending of the kind so common in the dramatists his contemporaries. And he constantly uses (explicitly defending it) the Alexandrine, as in--
Like some | fair pine | o'erlook|ing all | th' igno|bler wood,
or--
Which runs, | and, as | it runs, | for ev|er shall | run on;
while he often employs trochees or spondees. He does not use the triplet in the _Davideis_, but does elsewhere, and, after Virgil, he sometimes indulges in half-lines.)
XXVII. VARIOUS FORMS OF OCTOSYLLABLE-HEPTASYLLABLE (LATE SIXTEENTH AND SEVENTEENTH CENTURY)
(_a_) Shakespeare (doubtfully?):
(1) King Pan|dion | he is | dead,
All thy | friends are | lapped in | lead.
(2) Let | the bird | of loud|est lay
On | the sole | Ara|bian tree.
(These distichs from the _Passionate Pilgrim_ will illustrate the two different forms which the heptasyllable--really an octosyllable acephalous or catalectic--can take. The catalectic form (1) becomes trochaic; the acephalous (2), iambic. They can be interchanged, and either can group with the full iambic dimeter; but, _individually_, it would spoil (1) to scan it as iambic, (2) to scan it as trochaic. Yet on "accentual" scansion there is no difference; and some advocates of recent fancy "stress"-systems maintain that the rhythms are identical!)
(_b_) Shakespeare (almost certainly):
The cat | with eyne |of burn|ing coal
Now couch|es 'fore | the mou|se's hole,
And crick|ets sing | at the ov|en's mouth
As | the ¦ blith|er ¦ from | their ¦ drouth.
(In this famous and eminently Shakespearian passage from _Pericles_, the last line, a heptasyllable, goes perfectly with the rest, or octosyllables, either as acephalous or as catalectic, either as an iambic fellow or a trochaic substitute.)
(_c_) Shakespeare (certainly):
And we fairies, that do run
By the trìple Hecate's team,
From the presence of the sun
Follow¦ing | dark¦ness | like a dream,
Now are frolic: not a mouse
Shall disturb this hallowed house:
I am sent with broom before,
To sweep the dust behind the door.
(From _A Midsummer Night's Dream_. Same as last, except that the full octosyllable is only reached at the end, and perhaps in line 4. "Hecat[e]," as often, is dissyllabic.)
(_d_) Browne, W.:
Be ev|er fresh! | Let no | man dare
To spoil | thy fish, | make lock | or wear,
But on | thy mar|gent still | let dwell,
Those flowers | which have | the sweet|est smell,
And let | the dust | upon | thy strand
Become, | like Ta|gus, gold|en sand.
Let as | much good | betide | to thee
As thou | hast fa|vour showed | to me.
(Pure octosyllables. There is a catalectic line now and then elsewhere, but it is an evident exception.)
(_e_) Wither:
For | in ¦ her | a ¦ grace |there ¦ shines,
That o'er-daring thoughts confines,
Making worthless men despair
To be loved of one so fair.
Yea, the Destinies agree,
Some good judgments blind should be,
And not gain the power of knowing
Those rare beauties in her growing.
(Pure heptasyllables, taking either cadence, and, when extended, owing the extension mainly, if not wholly, to the double rhyme. The first line gives the alternative scansion; but Wither's run is, on the whole, trochaic, as Browne's is iambic.)
XXVIII. "COMMON," "LONG," AND "IN MEMORIAM" MEASURE (SEVENTEENTH CENTURY)
(_a_) See above, § XXIII., for "Drink to me only."
(_b_) Donne(?), Ayton(?), Anon.(?), (C.M.):
Thou sent'st | me late | a heart | was crowned,
I took | it to | be thine;
But when | I saw | it had | a wound,
I knew | that heart | was mine.
A boun|ty of | a strange | conceit!
To send | mine own | to me,
And send | it in | a worse | estate
Than when | it came | to thee.
(A capital example of the possibility of rhetorical _addition_ to the strict foot-system, as in line 2, "I took it || to be thine."[43] For "conc_ay_t" and "estate" _cf. sup._ § XXV. _sub fin._)
(_c_) Herrick (C.M.):
Bid me | to live | and I | will live
Thy Pro|testant | to be;
Or bid | me love, | and I | will give
A lov|ing heart to | thee.
(Strongly flavoured, and greatly improved, by trochaic substitution in first foot.)
(_d_) Marvell (L.M.):
My love | is of | a birth | as rare
As 'tis | for ob|ject, strange | and high--
It was | begot|ten of | Despair
Upon | Impos|sibil|ity.
(_e_) Lord Herbert of Cherbury (_In Memoriam_ metre):
For whose | affec|tion once | is shown,
No long|er can | the world | beguile;
Who sees | his pen|ance all | the while
He holds | a torch | to make | her known.
(Great regularity of feet; but already the "circular" motion which Tennyson was to perfect.)
XXIX. IMPROVED ANAPÆSTIC MEASURES (DRYDEN, ANON., PRIOR)
(_a_) Dryden (1691?):
While Pan | and fair Sy|rinx are fled | from our shore,
The Gra|ces are ban|ished, and Love | is no more:
The soft | god of plea|sure that warmed | our desires
Has brok|en his bow, | and extin|guished his fires,
And vows | that himself | and his moth|er will mourn,
Till Pan | and fair Sy|rinx in tri|umph return.
(These early anapæsts, as noted, are very apt to begin with dissyllabic feet. But it was no rule: in this same piece, "The Beautiful Lady of the May," occurs the line:
_All the nymphs_ | were in white | and the shep|herd in green.
(_b_) Anon. in _Pills to Purge Melancholy_ (1719, but contents often much older):
Let us drink |and be mer|ry, sing, dance, | and rejoice,
With cla|ret and sher|ry, theor|bo and voice.
The change|able world | to our joys | is unjust,
All trea|sure's uncer|tain, then down | with your dust!
On fro|lics dispose | your pounds, shil|lings, and pence,
For we | shall be no|thing a hun|dred years hence.
(_c_) Prior (1696):
While with la|bour assid|uous due plea|sure I mix,
And in one | day atone | for the bus|iness of six,
In a lit|tle Dutch chaise | on a Sat|urday night,
On my left | hand my Hor|ace, a nymph | on my right.
(Observe here in "assid[u]ous" and "bus[i]ness" the liberty of combining adjacent vowels (-_uo_us) and following familiar pronunciation (_biz_ness) which this light verse especially authorises.
XXX. "PINDARICS" (SEVENTEENTH CENTURY)
Dryden (complete stanza from "Anne Killigrew" ode):
VI
Bōrn tŏ | the spa|cious em|pire of | the Nine,
One would | have thought | she should | have been | content
To man|age well | that migh|ty gov|ernment;
But what | can young | ambi|tious souls | confine?
To the | next realm | she stretched | her sway,
For Pain|ture near | adjoin|ing lay,
A plen|teous prov|ince, and | allur|ing prey.
A cham|ber of | depen|dencies | was framed,
(As con|querors | will nev|er want | pretence,
When armed, | to just|ify | the offence,)
And the | whole fief, | in right | of po|etry, | she claimed.
The coun|try op|en lay | without | defence;
For po|ets fre|quent in|roads there | had made,
And per|fectly | could rep|resent
The shape, | the face, | with ev|ery lin|eament,
And all | the large | domains | which the | Dumb Sis|ter swayed;
All bowed | beneath | her gov|ernment,
Received | in tri|umph where|soe'er | she went.
Her pen|cil drew | whate'er | her soul | designed,
And oft | the hap|py draught | surpassed | the im|age in | her mind.
The syl|van scenes | of herds | and flocks,
And fruit|ful plains | and bar|ren rocks,
Of shal|low brooks | that flowed | so clear,
The bot|tom did | the top | appear;
Of deep|er too | and am|pler floods,
Which, as | in mir|rors, showed | the woods;
Of lof|ty trees, | with sa|cred shades,
And pèr|spectives of plea|sant glades,
Where nymphs | of bright|est form | appear,
And shag|gy sat|yrs stand|ing near,
Which them | at once | admire | and fear.
The ru|ins, too, | of some | majes|tic piece,
Boasting | the power | of an|cient Rome | or Greece,
Whose sta|tues, frie|zes, col|umns, bro|ken lie,
And, though | defaced, | the won|der of | the eye;
What na|ture, art, | bold fic|tion, e'er | durst frame,
Her form|ing hand | gave fea|ture to | the name.
So strange | a con|course ne'er | was seen | before,
But when | the peo|pled ark | the whole | crea|tion bore.
(88-91, heroics; 92, 93, octosyllables; 94-96, heroics; 97, octosyllable; 98, Alexandrine; 99, 100, heroic; 101, octosyllable; 102, heroic; 103, Alexandrine; 104, octosyllable; 105, 106, heroics; 107, fourteener; 108-118, continuous octosyllables; 119-125, continuous heroics capped and finished off by 126, Alexandrine. In 97, probably "th' offence.")
XXXI. THE HEROIC COUPLET FROM DRYDEN TO CRABBE
(_a_) Dryden (early non-dramatic):
Our setting sun, from his declining seat,
Shot beams of kindness on _you_, not of heat;
And, when his love was bounded in a few
That were unhappy, that they might be true,
Made _you_ the favourite of his last sad times,
That is, a sufferer in his subjects' crimes.
Thus, those first favours _you_ received, were sent,
Like heaven's rewards, in earthly punishment:
Yet fortune, conscious of _your_ destiny,
E'en then took care to lay _you_ softly by,
And wrapped _your_ fate among her precious things,
Kept fresh to be unfolded with _your_ king's.
(Note recurrent _you_ and _your_ employed like pauses to vary verse. Otherwise strictly "regular.")
(_b_) Dryden ("heroic"-dramatic type at best):
Fair though you are
As summer mornings, | and your eyes more bright
Than stars that twinkle ¦ in a winter's night;
Though you have eloquence to warm and move
Cold age ¦ and praying hermits ¦ into love;
Though Almahide with scorn ¦ rewards my care,--
Yet, | than to change, | 'tis nobler to despair.
My love's my soul; | and that from fate is free;
'Tis that unchanged and deathless part of me.
(_Conquest of Granada_ II., III. iii.)
(Observe how the alternation of central pause, strongly (|) and weakly (¦) or hardly at all (no mark) emphasised, knits and shades the verse; and how, in the first line, there is positive enjambment. Yet there is still no trisyllabic substitution. This type is continued and perfected in the great satires and didactic pieces for argument and attack, and in the _Fables_ for narrative. It admits, to relieve monotony, the Alexandrine (_Hind and Panther_, i. 23, 24))--
Their corps[e] to perish, but their kind to last,
So much | the death|less plant | the dy|ing fruit | surpassed;
the triplet (_ibid._ a little further)--
Can I believe eternal God could lie
Disguised in mortal mould and infancy,
That the great Maker of the world could die?
both combined (_Palamon and Arcite_, ii. 560-562)--
There saw I how the secret felon wrought,
And treason labouring in the traitor's thought,
And mid|wife time | the ri|pened plot | to mur|der brought;
and sometimes the fourteener (_Medal_, 94)--
Thou leapst o'er all eternal truths in thy Pindaric way.
(_c_) Passages from Garth, (1), and Pope, (2) and (3), to illustrate the mechanical character of the eighteenth-century couplet, the ease with which it can be shifted from decasyllabic to octosyllabic, and its peculiar construction of ridge-backed antithetic pause:
(1) With ~breathing~ fire his pitchy nostrils blow,
As from his sides he shakes the ~fleecy~ snow.
Around this ~hoary~ prince from wat'ry beds
His subject islands raise their ~verdant~ heads.
. . . . . . .
Eternal spring with ~smiling~ verdure here
Warms the mild air and crowns the ~youthful~ year.
. . . . . . .
The vine undressed her ~swelling~ clusters bears,
The labouring hind the ~mellow~ olive cheers.
(_The Dispensary._)
(Read, omitting the interlined epithets, and you get perfectly fluent octosyllables.)
(2) First in these fields, I try the _sylvan_ strains,
Nor blush to sport on Windsor's _blissful_ plains.
Fair Thames, flow gently from thy _sacred_ spring,
While on thy banks _Sicilian_ Muses sing;
Let _vernal_ airs thro' _trembling_ osiers play
And Albion's cliffs resound the _rural_ lay.
(_Windsor Forest._)
Now this, in the same way, by the omission of some of the italicised _gradus_ epithets, becomes--
First in these fields I try the strains,
Nor blush to sport on Windsor's plains.
Fair Thames, flow gently from thy spring,
While on thy banks [the] Muses sing;
Let vernal airs through osiers play
And Albion's cliffs resound the lay.
(3) Not with more glories in th' _ethereal_ plain
The sun first rises o'er the _purpled_ main,
Than issuing forth the rival of his beams
Launch'd on the bosom of the _silver_ Thames.
Fair nymphs and well-drest youths around her shone,
But ev'ry eye was fix'd on her alone.
On her _white_ breast a _sparkling_ cross she wore,
Which _Jews_ might kiss and _Infidels_ adore.
Her _lively_looks a _sprightly_ mind disclose,
Quick as her eyes and as unfixed as those.
_Favours_ to none to all she _smiles_ extends,
_Oft_ she rejects but never _once_ offends.
Bright as the sun her eyes the gazers strike,
And like the sun they shine on all alike.
Yet graceful ease and sweetness void of pride
Might hide her faults if Belles had faults to hide.
If to her share some female errors fall,
Look in her face and you'll forget them all.
(_The Rape of the Lock._)
Of course Pope,[44] in the close of the _Dunciad_ and elsewhere, has passages of the utmost dignity; and the antithetic arrangement is good for satire. But perhaps the finest passages of this class of couplet--certainly the finest _with_ the _Dunciad_ close--are the following, from
(_d_) Johnson (_Vanity of Human Wishes_--end):
Where then shall Hope and Fear their objects find?
Must dull suspense corrupt the stagnant mind?
Must helpless man, in ignorance sedate,
Roll darkling down the torrent of his fate?
Must no dislike alarm, no wishes rise,
No cries invoke the mercies of the skies?
. . . . . . .
Yet, when the sense of sacred presence fires
And strong devotion to the skies aspires,
Pour forth thy favours for a healthful mind,
Obedient passions, and a will resigned;
For love which scarce collective man can fill;
For patience sovereign o'er transmuted ill;
For faith that, panting for a happier seat,
Counts death kind nature's signal of retreat.
These goods for man the laws of Heaven ordain,
These goods He grants who grants the power to gain;
With these celestial Wisdom calms the mind,
And makes the happiness she does not find.
and
(_e_) Crabbe ("Delay brings Danger"--end):
Early he rose, and looked with many a sigh
On the red light that filled the eastern sky;
Oft had he stood before, alert and gay,
To hail the glories of the new-born day:
But now dejected, languid, listless, low,
He saw the wind upon the water blow,
And the cold stream curled onward as the gale
From the pine hill blew harshly down the dale;
On the right side the youth a wood surveyed,
With all its dark intensity of shade;
Where the rough wind alone was heard to move,
In this, the pause of nature and of love,
When now the young are reared, and when the old,
Lost to the tie, grow negligent and cold--
Far to the left he saw the huts of men,
Half hid in mist, that hung upon the fen;
Before him swallows gathering for the sea,
Took their short flights and twittered on the lea;
And near the bean-sheaf stood, the harvest done,
And slowly blackened in the sickly sun;
All these were sad in nature, or they took
Sadness from him, the likeness of his look
And of his mind--he pondered for a while,
Then met his Fanny with a borrowed smile.
(Observe, besides the other points mentioned, that trisyllabic feet practically never occur in Garth, Pope, and Johnson--"wat'ry for watery," and words like "ether(ea)l," "celest(ia)l," "happ(ie)r," being _intended_ to take the benefit of elision, though, as a matter of fact, they _give_ that of extension. Only Crabbe, in "gath_e_ring," may perhaps not have meant "gath'ring.")
XXXII. EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY BLANK VERSE
(_a_) Thomson:
First the flaming red
Sprung vivid forth; the tawny orange next;
And next delicious yellow; by whose side
Fell the kind beams of all-refreshing green.
Then the pure blue that swells autumnal skies,
Etherial played, and then of sadder hue
Emerged the deepened indigo (as when
The heavy-skirted evening droops with frost),
While the last gleamings of refracted light
Died in the fainting violet away.
(This, from the poem on Newton, is Thomson at his very best in blank verse, or nearly so. He was, however, too apt to emphasise his phrases into full stops, producing what Johnson justly called "broken style," as thus:
On he walks
Graceful, and crows defiance. In the pond
The finely-chequered duck, before her train,
Rows garrulous. The stately sailing swan, etc.)
The trick was pushed to a pitch of absurdity by
(_b_) Glover:
Mindful of their charge,
The chiefs depart. Leonidas provides
His various armour. Agis close attends,
His best assistant. First a breastplate arms
The spacious chest;
and is somewhat noteworthy in Young and others. The reason probably was a sort of nervous fear lest, in the absence of rhyme, the versification should not be sufficiently marked. But at length the proper flow was recovered by
(_c_) Cowper:
Tīme māde | thee what | thou wast, | kīng ŏf | the woods,
And time hath made thee what thou art--a cave
For owls to roost in. Once thy spreading boughs
O'erhung the champaign; and the nu|mĕrŏus flōcks
That grazed it stood beneath that ample cope
Uncrowded, yet safe-sheltered from the storm.
No flock frequents thee now. Thou hast outlived
Thy popularity, and art become
(Unless verse rescue thee awhile) a thing
Forgotten, as the foliage of thy youth.
(_Yardley Oak._)
(The spondee "Tīme māde" and trochee "kīng ŏf" are certainly intentional, whether consciously as such or not. The anapæst "-mĕrŏus flōcks" may not have been _meant_, for Cowper had not cleared his mind up about "elision," but is one in fact.)
XXXIII. THE REGULARISED PINDARIC ODE
Analysis of Gray's _Bard_ (the second and third divisions coincide to the minutest degree):
I. i.
1. "Ruin seize thee, ruthless King!
2. Confusion on thy banners wait;
3. Tho' fanned by Conquest's crimson wing
4. They mock the air with idle state.
5. Helm, nor hauberk's twisted mail,
6. Nor e'en thy virtues, Tyrant, shall avail
7. To save thy secret soul from nightly fears,
8. From Cambria's curse, from Cambria's tears!"
9. --Such were the sounds that o'er the crested pride
10. Of the first Edward scatter'd wild dismay,
11. As down the steep of Snowdon's shaggy side
12. He wound with toilsome march his long array:--
13. Stout Glo'ster stood aghast in speechless trance;
14. "To arms!" cried Mortimer, and couch'd his quivering lance.
I. i. (_Strophe_)
1. Troch. dim. cat. ̄ ̆ ̄ ̆ ̄ ̆ ̄.
2. Iamb. dim. acat. ̆ ̄ ̆ ̄ ̆ ̄ ̆ ̄.
3. ditto
4. ditto
5 as 1.
6 and 7. Heroics nearly pure, ̆ ̄ ̆ ̄ ̆ ̄ ̆ ̄ ̆ ̄.
8 as 2 to 4.
9 to 13. Heroics
14. Alexandrine ̆ ̄ ̆ ̄ ̆ ̄ ̆ ̄ ̆ ̄ ̆ ̄. "Quiv'ring," probably.
I. ii.
1. On a rock, whose haughty brow
2. Frowns o'er old Conway's foaming flood,
3. Robed in the sable garb of woe
4. With haggard eyes the Poet stood
5. (Loose his beard and hoary hair
6. Stream'd like a meteor to the troubled air),
7. And with a master's hand and prophet's fire
8. Struck the deep sorrows of his lyre:
9. "Hark, how each giant-oak and desert-cave
10. Sighs to the torrent's awful voice beneath!
11. O'er thee, oh King! their hundred arms they wave,
12. Revenge on thee in hoarser murmurs breathe;
13. Vocal no more, since Cambria's fatal day,
14. To high-born Hoel's harp, or soft Llewellyn's lay.
I. ii. (_Antistrophe_)
Identical.
I. iii.
1. "Cold is Cadwallo's tongue,
2. That hush'd the stormy main:
3. Brave Urien sleeps upon his craggy bed:
4. Mountains, ye mourn in vain
5. Modred, whose magic song
6. Made hugh Plinlimmon bow his cloud-topt head.
7. On dreary Arvon's shore they lie
8. Smear'd with gore and ghastly pale:
9. Far, far aloof the affrighted ravens sail;
10. The famish'd eagle screams, and passes by.
11. Dear lost companions of my tuneful art,
12. Dear as the light that visits these sad eyes,
13. Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my heart,
14. Ye died amidst your dying country's cries--
15. No more I weep; They do not sleep;
16. On yonder cliffs, a griesly band,
17. I see them sit; They linger yet,
18. Avengers of their native land:
19. With me in dreadful harmony they join,
20. And weave with bloody hands the tissue of thy line.
I. iii. (_Epode_)
1. Iamb. dim. brachycat. ̆ ̄ ̆ ̄ ̆ ̄.
2. " ""
3. Heroic.
4, 5, as 1, 2, with trochee substituted in first place.
6 as 3.
7. Iamb. dim. acat.
8. Troch. dim. cat.
9 to 14. Heroics: the last 4 in quatrain.
15 to 18. Iamb. dims. arranged in stanza quatrain; internal rhymes
only in lines 15 and 17.
19. Heroic.
20. Alexandrine.
Rhyme scheme of Strophe Rhyme scheme of
and Antistrophe. Epode.
_a_ _a_
_b_ _b_
_a_ _c_
_b_ _b_
_c_ _a_
_c_ _c_
_d_ _d_
_d_ _e_
_e_ _e_
_f_ _d_
_e_ _f_
_f_ _g_
_g_ _f_
_g_ _g_
_o_[45]
_h_
_o_[45]
_h_
_i_
_i_
XXXIV. LIGHTER EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY LYRIC
(_a_) Gay:
The school|boy's desire | is a play-|day,
The school|master's joy | is to flog,
The milk|maid's delight | is on May-|day,
But mine | is on sweet | Molly Mog.
(Remarkable for the improvement, by the redundant syllable in the odd lines, on the plain anapæstic three-foot quatrain used later by Shenstone and Cowper, as well as for its leading up to the more obvious successes of Praed and Mr. Swinburne; _v. inf._ § XLIV.)
(_b_) Gray:
'Twas on a lofty vase's side
Where China's gayest art had dyed
The azure flowers that blow--
Demurest of the tabby kind,
The pensive Selima reclined,
Gazed on the lake below.
(Eleventh-century poets employed the old romance-six, or _rime couée_, almost more largely than any other metre for general lyrical purposes.)
(_c_) (D. Lewis?):
And when with envy Time, transport|ed,
Shall think to rob us of our joys,
You'll in your girls again be court|ed,
And I'll go wooing in my boys.
(Another instance of the refreshing and alterative effect of redundance--in this case on the old "long measure." But even in its stricter form the century managed "L.M." better than "C.M.," which, till Blake, was almost always sing-song.)
XXXV. THE REVIVAL OF EQUIVALENCE (CHATTERTON AND BLAKE)
Percy's _Reliques_, however, taught it something better; though Percy's own imitations and those of others were often as described above. Yet soon we find in
(_a_) Chatterton, such adaptations of ballad metre as--
I ken | Syr Ro|ger from | afar
Trippynge | over | the lea,
Ich ask | whie | the lov|erd's son
Is moe | than mee?
and such equivalenced octosyllabic couplet and stanza as--
Sĭr Bō|tĕlĭer thēn | hăvĭng cōn|quĕr'd hīs twāyne,
Rŏ̄de cōn|qŭerŏr ōff | thĕ tōur|nĕyĭng plāyne,
Rĕcēiv|ĭng ă gār|lănd frŏm Āl|ĭcĕ's hānd,
Thĕ̄ fāir|ĕst lā|dy̆e īn | thĕ lānde.
But the real Columbus here was
(_b_) Blake, who from 1780 onwards wrote such things as--
Thĕ wīld | wĭ̄nds wēep
Ănd thĕ nīght | ĭs ă-cōld;
Cŏme hī|thĕr, Slēep,
Ănd my̆ grīefs | ŭnfōld.
Bŭt lō! | thĕ mōrn|ĭng pēeps
Ōvĕr | thĕ ēast|ĕ̄rn stēeps,
Ănd thĕ rūst|lĭng bēds | ŏf dāwn
Thĕ ēarth | dŏ scōrn.
Lō! | tŏ thĕ vāult
Ŏf pā|vè̆d hēaven,
Wĭth sōr|rŏw frāught,
My̆ nōtes | ă̄re drīven.
Thĕy strīke | thĕ ēar | ŏf nīght,
Māke wēep | thĕ ēyes | ŏf dāy;
Thĕy măke mad | thĕ rōar|ing winds,
Ănd wĭth tēm|pĕsts plāy.
Lĭke ă fīend) | in ă clōud,
Wĭth hōwl|ĭng wōe
Ăftĕr nīght | Ĭ dŏ crōwd
Ănd wĭth nīght | wĭll gō;
Ĭ tūrn | my̆ bāck | tŏ thĕ Ēast,
Frŏm whĕnce cōm|fŏrts hāve | ĭncrēased,
Fŏr līght | dŏth sēize | my̆ brāin
Wĭth frān|tĭc pāin.
(This cannot be studied too carefully, and is almost a typical example of sound prosody, orderly without monotony and free without licence. Every substitution is justified, both on the general principles expounded throughout this book, and to the ear in each individual case.)
XXXVI. RHYMELESS ATTEMPTS (COLLINS TO SHELLEY)
(_a_) Collins (_Ode to Evening_):
If aught | of oat|en stop | or pas|toral song
May hope, | O pen|sive Eve, | to soothe | thine ear
Like thy | own sol|emn springs,
Thy springs | and dy|ing gales.
(Perfectly regular heroics and sixes; "pastoral" most probably intended to be "past'ral.")
(_b_) Sayers (Choruses of _Moina_):
I.
Hail to | her whom | Frea | loves,
Moina | hail!
When first | thine in|fant eyes | beheld
The beam | of day,
Frea | from Val|halla's | groves
Mark'd thy | birth in | silent | joy;
Frea, | sweetly | smiling saw
The swift-|wing'd mes|senger | of love
Bearing | in her | rosy | hand
The gold-|tipt horn | of gods.
(This--which is fairly but not wholly free from the fault noted in II.--is ordinary iambic and trochaic mixture.)
II.
Dark, dark | is Moi|na's bed,
On earth's | hard lap | she lies.
[Where is | the beau|teous form
That he|roes loved?]
[Where is | the beam|ing eye,
The rud|dy cheek?]
Cold, cold | is Moi|na's bed,
And shall | no lay | of death
[With pleas|ing mur|mur soothe
Her part|ed soul?]
[Shall no | tear wet | the grave
Where Moi|na lies?]
The bards | shall raise | the lay | of death,
The bards | shall soothe | her part|ed soul,
[And drop | the tear | of grief
On Moi|na's grave.]
(It will be observed that each of the couplets enclosed in square brackets is simply a blank-verse line, arbitrarily split. This is probably the result of the effort at rhymeless _stanza_. Observe the unbroken iambic rhythm--another danger.)
(_c_) Southey (_Thalaba_):
How beau|tiful | is Night!
A dew|y fresh|ness fills | the si|lent air;
No mist | obscures, | nor cloud | nor speck | nor stain
Brēaks thĕ | serene | of heaven:
In full-|orbed glo|ry yon|der moon | divine
Rōlls thrōugh | the dark | blue depths.
Beneath | her stead|y ray
The des|ert-cir|cle spreads,
Līke thĕ | rōund ō|cean, gir|dled with | the sky.
How beau|tiful | is Night!
(Iambic lines of various lengths with trochaic and spondaic but no other substitution (there are anapæsts elsewhere). The couplet-six, or split Alexandrine, is intentional, but Southey expressly avoids split heroics.)
(_d_) Shelley (_Queen Mab_):
How wonderful is Death,
Death and his brother Sleep!
One, pale as yonder waning moon
With lips of lurid blue;
The other, rosy as the morn
When throned on ocean's wave
It blushes o'er the world:
Yet both so passing wonderful!
XXXVII. THE REVIVED BALLAD (PERCY TO COLERIDGE)
(_a_) Percy's imitation of equivalence and extension of scheme (_Sir Cawline_):
Then she | held forth | her lil|y-white hand
Towards | that knight | so free;
He gave | to it | one gen|til kiss,
His heart | was brought | from bale | to bliss,
The tears | sterte from | his ee.
(Not bad; might have been improved by "_And_ the tears|.")
(_b_) Goldsmith (regularised sing-song):
Turn An|geli|na, ev|er dear,
My charm|er, turn | to see
Thy own, | thy long-|lost Ed|win here
Restored | to love | and thee!
(_c_) Southey (quite sound in principle, and not bad in effect; but a little more poetic powder wanted):
They laid | her where | these four | roads meet
Here in | this ver|y place--
The earth | upon | her corpse | was pressed,
This post | was driv|en into | her breast,
And a stone | is on | her face.
(_d_) Coleridge (the real thing in simpler and more complex form):
It is | an an|cient ma|riner,
And he stop|peth one | of three--
"By thy long | grey beard | and glit|tering eye,
Now where|fore stop'st | thou me?"
. . . . . . .
Her lips | were red, | her looks | were free,
Her locks | were yel|low as gold;
Her skin | was as white | as lep|rosy--
The night|mare Life-|in-Death | was she,
Who thicks | man's blood | with cold.
. . . . . . .
We list|ened and | looked side|ways up!
Fear at | my heart, | as at | a cup,
My life-|blood seemed | to sip!
The stars | were dim | and thick | the night,
The steers|man's face | by his lamp | gleamed white;
From the sails | the dew | did drip--
Till clomb | above | the east|ern bar
The horn|èd moon, | with one | bright star
Within | the neth|er tip.
(The presence and absence of anapæstic substitution here, with its effect in each case, should be carefully studied.)
XXXVIII
Specimens of _Christabel_, with note on the application of the system to later lyric. (Some have said that in _Christabel_ "the consideration of feet is dropped altogether," and others, that it "cannot be analysed," or can only be so by the rough process of counting accents. Let us go and do it.)
'Tĭs thĕ mīd|dlĕ ŏf nīght | by̆ thĕ cās|tlĕ clōck,
Ănd thĕ ōwls | hăve ăwā|kĕned thĕ crōw|ing cōck,
Tŭ̄--whīt--tŭ̄ whŏ̄o!
Ănd hārk, | ăgāin! | thĕ crōw|īng cō=ck,
Hŏ̄w drōw|sĭlȳ | ĭt crēw.|
(A five-lined ballad stanza, freely but regularly equivalenced with anapæsts. Line 3 may be four monosyllabic feet, or an iambic monometer--two feet,--according to the value put on the first note of the owl's cry.) The rest of the piece is _not_ in ballad stanza, but in octosyllabic couplet, again more or less freely but regularly equivalenced, and allowing itself occasional licences of rhyme-order, line-length, etc. Thus the succeeding lines are in two batches, where the substitution--anapæstic, trochaic, spondaic or monosyllabic--increases, dwindles, disappears and reappears _ad libitum_:
Sĭr Lē|ŏlīne, | thĕ Bā|rŏn rīch,
Hāth | ă tōoth|lĕss mās|tĭff, whīch
Frōm | hĕr kēn|nĕl bĕnēath | thĕ rōck
Mā|kĕth ān|swĕr tō | thĕ clōck,
Fōur | fŏr thĕ quār|tĕrs ănd twēlve | fŏr thĕ hōur;
Ēv|ĕr ănd āye, | by̆ shīne | ănd shōwer,
Sī̆xtēen | shō̆rt hōwls | nŏt ō|vĕr lōud;
Sō̆me sāy, | shĕ sēes | my̆ lā|dy̆'s shrōud.
Īs | thĕ nīght | chīlly̆ | ănd dārk?
Thĕ nīght | ĭs chīl|ly̆, būt | nŏt dārk.
Thĕ thīn | grāy clōud | ĭs sprēad | ŏn hīgh,
Ĭt cōv|ĕrs būt | nŏt hīdes | thĕ skȳ.
Thĕ mōon | ĭs bĕhīnd, | ā̆nd ă̄t | thĕ fūll;
Ănd yēt | shĕ lōoks | bŏ̄th smāll | ănd dūll.
Thĕ nīght | ĭs chīll, | thĕ clōud | ĭs grāy:
'Tĭs ă mōnth | bĕfōre | thĕ mōnth | ŏf Māy,
Ănd thĕ sprīng | cŏ̄mes slōw|ly̆ ūp | thĭs wāy.
The whole of the rest follows suit, with occasional variations (_not_, save in one case perhaps, "irregularities"), as, for instance--
Ă̄nd || in ¦ si|lence ¦ pray|eth ¦ she.
. . . . . . .
From || the ¦ love|ly ¦ la|dy's ¦ cheek,
where a triple scansion might appear possible: (1) monosyllabic beginnings indicated by ||; (2) three-foot lines with anapæstic opening (|); and (3) the trochaic variation common in seventeenth-century poets (¦). A famous third line--
Bēau|tĭfŭ̄l | ĕ̄xcēed|ĭnglȳ,|
decides in favour of (1), for (2) and (3) would exceedingly spoil its beauty. There is sometimes almost _complete_ anapæstic substitution--
Săve thĕ bōss | ŏf thĕ shīeld | ŏf Sĭr Lē|ŏlĭne tāll,
Whĭch hūng | ĭn ă mūr|ky̆ ŏld nīche | ĭn thĕ wāll;
which is still further developed in the spell of Geraldine--
Ĭn thĕ tōuch | ŏf thĭs bō|sŏm thĕre wōrk|ĕth ă spēll.
(This, in couplet, is a little dangerous.)
_Note on the Application of the "Christabel" System to Nineteenth-Century Lyric generally._
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Historical Manual of English ProsodyChapter VI (2)
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