NATURE AND STRUCTURE OF POETRY
+44. Definition.+ We may approximately define poetry as the metrical
expression of lofty or beautiful thought, feeling, or action, in
imaginative and artistic form. Its metrical character distinguishes it
from prose; for there is no such thing as prose poetry, though we
sometimes find, as in the best passages of Ruskin, poetical prose. Its
æsthetic idea or content, its exquisite diction, and its artistic form
distinguish genuine poetry from mere verse, which is the mechanical or
unartistic expression of commonplace thought, feeling, or incident.
Poetry is, in large measure, a product of the creative imagination; and
in its highest forms there must be energy of passion, intensity yet
delicacy of feeling, loftiness of thought, depth and clearness of
intuitive vision. It is the metrical expression of an exaltation of
soul, which sometimes suffuses the objects of nature and the scenes of
human life with a beauty and glory of its own,--
"The light that never was on sea or land,
The consecration and the poet's dream."
+45. Poetry and Prose.+ Poetry occupies a region above prose. While
prose in its highest flights approaches the plane of poetry, and poetry
in its lowest descent touches the level of prose, they are yet
essentially different. The one is commonplace, the other elevated or
ideal. This truth is brought out clearly when we compare the same fact
or incident of history as related in poetry and prose. The "Æneid" is
very unlike a prose account of the founding of Rome. We sometimes say in
plain prose, "The evening passed pleasantly and quickly"; but when the
poet describes it, there is an elevation of thought and glow of feeling
that make it ideal:
"The twilight hours like birds flew by,
As lightly and as free;
Ten thousand stars were in the sky,
Ten thousand in the sea.
For every wave with dimpled face
That leaped upon the air,
Had caught a star in its embrace,
And held it trembling there."
+46. Sources of Poetry.+ Nature is filled with poetry. The great poet is
God, and he has filled the universe with rhythm, harmony, beauty. Human
poems are but faulty shells gathered on the shore of the divine ocean of
poetry. The stars are the poetry of the skies. The planets and stellar
systems that circle in their glorious orbits preserve a sublime harmony
of movement. The light that reaches us from distant worlds comes to us
in rhythmical wavelets. Every human life is a poem,--often an amusing
comedy, but still oftener a moving tragedy. The tender friendships, the
innocent joys, the noble aspirations, the high achievements of men,
form the lyric poetry of human existence. The rippling of the forest
stream within its shady banks of fern, the rhythmical roll and heavy
roar of the ocean surges, are the poetry of the sparkling waters. The
audible silence and mysterious whisperings of the dark and majestic
forest, the modest hiding of the little violet that gives charm to some
neglected spot,--this is the poetry of the woods and fields. Whether we
look upon earth, or air, or sky, we may be sure that the unwritten
poetry of God is there. In our best moments we feel its presence,--its
mute yet eloquent appeal to our higher natures. It lifts us up into
fellowship with Him who thus speaks to us.
+47. The Poet.+ When material interests dominate the life of a people,
the poet is generally undervalued. He is apt to be regarded as an
unpractical, or even an eccentric and valueless member of society. Too
often the eccentricities of genius afford some basis for this prejudice;
but it is wholly groundless in the case of the largest and most gifted
of the poetic race. High poetic gifts are favorable to the noblest types
of manhood. The great poet, beyond all other men, possesses an intuitive
insight into truth, depth of feeling, and appreciation of beauty. These
gifts lift the poet out of the rank of common men, and make him, in his
moments of highest inspiration, a prophet to his people. In the language
of Bailey in his "Festus,"--
"Poetry is itself a thing of God;
He made His prophets poets, and the more
We feel of poesy, do we become
Like God in love and power--under makers."
Among the greatest of every nation, whether ancient or modern, poets
stand almost preëminent. In the Old Testament history there is no one
greater than "the sweet Psalmist of Israel." Homer stands in almost
solitary grandeur in the early annals of Greece. In the history of
Italy, what name is to be placed above that of Dante? In England there
are, perhaps, no names to be ranked above those of Chaucer, Shakespeare,
Milton, Tennyson, whose imperishable works abide with us, and in no
small degree mould the thought and feeling of each succeeding
generation. And among the illustrious citizens of our own country there
are few or none who have reached a higher nobility of character than its
great singers,--Longfellow, Bryant, Whittier, Hayne, and Lowell. Their
lives were no less sane than beautiful.
+48. The Poet as Seer.+ The poet is preëminently a seer. He discerns the
divine beauty and truth of life which escape the common sight; and
because he reveals them to us in his melodious art he becomes an exalted
teacher. In the midst of the tumults of greed and gain he lifts up his
voice to witness of higher things. In the presence of what seemed to her
a sordid generation, Mrs. Browning calls poets
"The only truth-tellers now left to God,
The only speakers of essential truth,
Opposed to relative, comparative,
And temporal truths; the only holders by
His sun-skirts, through conventional gray glooms;
The only teachers who instruct mankind,
From just a shadow on a charnel-wall,
To find man's veritable stature out,
Erect, sublime--the measure of a man."
The poet, with his intenser nature, gives expression to our deepest
thoughts and feelings. What we have often felt but vaguely, he utters
for us in imperishable forms. In how many things Shakespeare has voiced
the human soul! While poetry has rippling measures suited to our smiles,
it belongs, in its richest form, to the deeper side of our nature. Its
loftiest numbers are given to truth and righteousness, to the tragic
strivings and sorrows of life, and to the mysteries of deathless love.
+49. Versification.+ Versification is the science of making verse. The
unit or starting point in versification is the syllable, which may be
_long_ or _short_, according to the time it requires in pronouncing, and
_accented_ or _unaccented_, according to the stress of tone with which
it is pronounced. _Quantity_, by which is meant the length of syllables,
formed the basis of versification in Latin and Greek poetry; but in
English poetry it is used to give variety, music, or some other element
of effectiveness to the verse. This may be illustrated in a well-known
passage from Pope:
"When Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to throw,
The line, too, labors, and the words move slow;
Not so, when swift Camilla scours the plain,
Flies o'er the unbending corn, and skims along the main."
The first two lines occupy more time in reading than the last two, the
sound in each case corresponding in some measure to the sense. An
examination of the lines will show that the first two have more long
vowel sounds than the last two, and that these and other vowel sounds
are lengthened in pronunciation by the presence of difficult consonant
combinations. "Ajax strives" and "rock's vast weight" are not phrases
that slip quickly from the tongue. Furthermore, the second line is
lengthened by no fewer than three pauses.
The principle of English verse is _accent_, and not _quantity_. In the
line,
"The mossy marbles rest,"
it will be observed that every other syllable receives a stress of voice
or is accented. The scheme of the verse may be represented as follows:
u-'|u-'|u-',
the line being broken up into three equal and similar parts, each of
which is called a _foot_. The foot consisting of an unaccented followed
by an accented syllable is called an _iambus_.
In the line,
"Home they brought her warrior dead,"
we observe that beginning with the first syllable every other one is
accented, giving us the following as the scheme of the verse:
-'u|-'u|-'u|-'.
The last foot is obviously incomplete or _catalectic_. The foot that
consists of two syllables, the first of which is accented, is called a
_trochee_. It is the opposite of the _iambus_.
Again, in the line,
"This is the forest primeval; the murmuring pines and the
hemlocks,"
it will be noticed that, beginning with the first, each accented
syllable is followed by two unaccented syllables, except in the last
foot, which is a _trochee_. The scheme of the verse is as follows:
-'uu|-'uu|-'uu|-'uu|-'uu|-'u.
This foot, consisting of one accented syllable, followed by two
unaccented syllables, is called a _dactyl_.
Once more, in the line,
"Through the depths of Loch Katrine the steed shall career,"
the third syllable is accented, and the scheme of the verse may be thus
indicated:
uu-'|uu-'|uu-'|uu-'.
This foot, which is the opposite of the dactyl, is known as the
_anapest_.
A _spondee_ is a foot of two equally accented syllables; as,
_mainspring_, _sea-maid_. There is still another foot, known as the
_amphibrach_, which consists of three syllables, the second of which is
accented, as in the word _de-ni'-al_. The scheme of the following line,
"The flesh was a picture for painters to study,"
may be indicated thus:
u-'u|u-'u|u-'u|u-'u.
But nearly all English poetry is based upon the four feet,--_iambus_,
_trochee_, _dactyl_, and _anapest_,--first given.
+50. Meters.+ A verse is named from the number of prevailing feet. A
verse containing one iambic foot is called _iambic monometer_; two feet,
_iambic dimeter_; three feet, _iambic trimeter_; four feet, _iambic
tetrameter_; five feet, _iambic pentameter_; six feet, _iambic
hexameter_. The line,
"The twilight hours like birds flew by,"
is made up of four iambic feet, and is therefore an _iambic tetrameter_.
_Iambic pentameter_, in which Milton's "Paradise Lost," much of Pope's
poetry, Shakespeare's dramas, and, indeed, a large proportion of English
verse, are written, is called _heroic measure_.
In like manner we have _trochaic monometer_, _dimeter_, _trimeter_,
_tetrameter_, _pentameter_, and _hexameter_. The following line,
"As unto the bow the cord is,"
is _trochaic tetrameter_, which is the meter of "Hiawatha."
The foregoing are called dissyllabic meters; but the trisyllabic
measures have the same names according to the number of feet. A verse
consisting of a single dactyl is thus _dactylic monometer_; of two
dactyls, _dactylic dimeter_; and so on up to _dactylic hexameter_, which
is the meter of Homer's "Iliad," Vergil's "Æneid," and Longfellow's
"Evangeline" and "Courtship of Miles Standish." The line,
"Softly the breezes descend in the valley,"
is _dactylic tetrameter_, though the last foot is a trochee.
In like manner we have anapestic lines of all lengths from monometer to
hexameter. The line,
"How she smiled, and I could not but love,"
contains three anapests, and is therefore _anapestic trimeter_.
But the time element of a poetic foot is important, as it explains the
seeming irregularities often met with in verse. An additional syllable
may be added to a foot or subtracted from it when the _time_ of the foot
or verse is not changed. By rapid utterance two syllables are often
equal to one, and in this way an anapest is frequently used with the
_time_ value of an iambus. In like manner a pause may sometimes take the
place of an unaccented syllable. Both cases are fully illustrated in
Tennyson's well-known lyric,--
"Break, break, break,
On thy cold gray stones, O sea!"
In spite of the seeming irregularity of this poem, the presence of the
proper _time_ element, together with the regular accents, preserves its
metrical harmony.
There are few poems without slight metrical irregularities. The meter is
varied to prevent monotony, to give emphasis to a word, or to respond
better to some turn of the thought or feeling. Take, for example, the
following couplet from Wordsworth:
"To me the meanest flower that blows can give
_Thoughts that_ do often lie too deep for tears."
The meter is iambic pentameter; but the first foot of the second line is
a trochee, and emphasizes _thoughts_ with fine effect. The time of the
line remains unchanged.
In Milton we read,--
"Leviathan, which God of all his works
Created _hugest that swim_ the ocean stream."
This is likewise iambic pentameter; but in the second line a clumsy
anapestic foot is inserted to correspond to the nature of the monster
described. No doubt irregularities sometimes occur by oversight or from
lack of skill; but with our greater poets, whose thought and emotion
instinctively assume the proper metrical form, the irregularities are
motived.
+51. Rhyme.+ _Rhyme_, or as it is more correctly spelled _rime_, is a
similarity of sound between words or syllables. Identity of sound, as
_heir_, _air_, _site_, _sight_, is not rhyme. It usually occurs between
words at the end of a verse, and serves to lend both beauty and emphasis
to poetry. The order in which rhymes occur is various. They may be found
in succeeding lines; as,--
"The tear down childhood's cheek that flows
Is like the dewdrop on the rose;
When next the summer breeze comes by,
And shakes the bush, the flower is dry."
They may occur in alternate lines; as,--
"The sun has long been set;
The stars are out by twos and threes;
The little birds are piping yet
Among the bushes and the trees."
Or the rhymes may occur at longer intervals; as,--
"I envy not in any _moods_
The captive void of noble rage,
The linnet born within the cage,
That never knew the summer _woods_."
In _double rhyme_ the correspondence of sound extends to two syllables,
and in _triple rhyme_ to three. A _double rhyme_, as _pleasure_,
_measure_, is also called _feminine_, while single rhymes are called
_masculine_. The following illustrates both _double_, or _feminine_, and
_masculine_ rhymes:
"'Tis the hour when happy faces
Smile around the taper's light;
Who will fill our vacant places?
Who will sing our songs to-night?"
The following from Hood illustrates _triple rhyme_:
"Take her up _tenderly_,
Lift her with care;
Fashioned so _slenderly_,
Young and so fair."
_Triple rhyme_ is usually employed only in a light, satirical, or
mocking vein. Byron uses it frequently in his frivolous or reckless
moods; for example,--
"O world that was and is! What is _cosmogony_?
Some people have accused me of _misanthropy_,
And yet I know no more than the _mahogany_
That forms this desk of what they mean; _lycanthropy_
I comprehend; for, without transformation
Men become wolves on any slight occasion."
_Middle rhyme_ is that which exists between the middle and final words
or syllables of a verse. It is frequently used in the "The Ancient
Mariner:"
"The fair breeze _blew_, the white foam _flew_,
The furrow followed free;
We were the _first_ that ever _burst_
Into that silent sea."
_Sectional rhyme_ is that occurring in the first half or section of a
verse; as,--
"_Lightly_ and _brightly_ breaks away
The morning from her mantle gray."
_Alliteration_ is the use of the same letter at the beginning of two or
more words or syllables in the same verse or successive verses. It was
the determining principle in Anglo-Saxon poetry, and has remained ever
since a source of harmony in English verse. Its effects are sometimes
most pleasing when the alliteration turns on one or more internal
syllables. The following from Mrs. Browning's "Romance of the Swan's
Nest" will serve for illustration:
"_L_ittle E_ll_ie sits a_l_one,
And the _s_mile _s_he _s_oftly uses
Fi_ll_s the _s_ilence _l_ike a _s_peech,
_W_hile _s_he thinks _w_hat _s_hall be done,
And the sweetest plea_s_ure choo_s_es
_F_or her _f_uture within reach."
The light rippling melody of this stanza is due, in considerable
measure, to its fine alliterative structure.
Tennyson likewise makes effective use of alliteration, as may be noted
especially in the matchless lyrics interspersed throughout "The
Princess." A single stanza will make this clear:
"The _s_plendor falls on ca_s_tle walls
And _s_nowy _s_ummits old in _s_tory;
The _l_ong _l_ight shakes across the _l_akes
And the wi_l_d cataract _l_eaps in g_l_ory.
_B_low, _b_ugle, _b_low, set the wild echoes flying,
_B_low, _b_ugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying."
+52. Stanzas.+ A stanza is a separate division of a poem, and contains
two or more lines or verses. A stanza of two lines is called a
_couplet_; of three lines, a _triplet_; of four lines, a _quatrain_.
Tennyson's "Locksley Hall" is in two-line stanza:
"Men, my brothers, men the workers, ever reaping something
new;
That which they have done but earnest of the things that they
shall do."
His "Two Voices" is in the triplet stanza:
"A still small voice spake unto me,
'Thou art so full of misery,
Were it not better not to be?'
"Then to the still small voice I said,
'Let me not cast in endless shade
What is so wonderfully made.'"
Numerous examples of the four-line stanza have already been given.
_Rhyme royal_ is a seven-line stanza invented by Chaucer. As will be
seen from the following example, it is made up of iambic pentameter
lines, the first four forming a quatrain of alternate rhymes, the fifth
line repeating the rhyme of the fourth, and the last two lines forming a
rhyming couplet. Its scheme is _a b a b b c c_, in which the same
letters indicate rhymes.
"For lo! the sea that fleets about the land,
And like a girdle clips her solid waist,
Music and measure both doth understand,
For his great crystal eye is always cast
Up to the moon, and on her fixeth fast;
And as she circles in her pallid sphere,
So danceth he about the centre here."
_Ottava rima_ is composed of eight iambic pentameter verses with
alternate rhymes, except the last two lines, which form a rhymed
couplet. Byron's "Don Juan" is written in this stanza. The scheme of
rhyme is _a b a b a b a c_.
"'Tis sweet to hear the watch-dog's honest bark
Bay deep-mouthed welcome as we draw near home;
'Tis sweet to know there is an eye will mark
Our coming, and look brighter when we come;
'Tis sweet to be awakened by the lark
Or lulled by falling waters; sweet the hum
Of bees, the voice of girls, the song of birds,
The lisp of children, and their earliest words."
The _Spenserian stanza_, invented by Edmund Spenser and employed by him
in the "Faerie Queene," is a difficult but effective form of poetry. It
consists of nine verses, the first eight being iambic pentameter, and
the ninth line iambic hexameter, or Alexandrine. Its rhyme scheme is _a
b a b b c b c c_. The following from Byron's "Childe Harold" will serve
for illustration:
"To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell,
To slowly trace the forest's shady scene,
Where things that own not man's dominion dwell,
And mortal foot hath ne'er or rarely been;
To climb the trackless mountain all unseen,
With the wild flock that never needs a fold;
Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean;
This is not solitude; 'tis but to hold
Converse with Nature's charms, and view her stores unrolled."
The principal hymn stanzas are known as _long meter_, _common meter_,
and _short meter_. The _long-meter_ stanza is composed of four iambic
tetrameter lines, rhyming either alternately or in couplets; as,
"Wide as the world is Thy command;
Vast as eternity Thy love;
Firm as a rock Thy truth must stand,
When rolling years shall cease to move."
The _common-meter_ stanza contains four iambic lines, the first and
third being tetrameter, and the second and fourth trimeter. The rhymes
are alternate; as,
"Eternity, with all its years,
Stands present to Thy view;
To Thee there's nothing old appears,
To Thee there's nothing new."
The _short-meter_ stanza consists of four iambic lines, the first,
second, and fourth being trimeter, and the third tetrameter. The rhymes
are alternate; as,
"Let good or ill befall,
It must be good for me;
Secure of having Thee in all,
Of having all in Thee."
+53. Blank Verse.+ Unrhymed poetry, usually in iambic pentameter
measure, is known as _blank verse_. It is our ordinary epic and dramatic
verse, as exemplified in Shakespeare and Milton. Blank verse has greater
freedom than rhymed verse, but the attainment of a high degree of
excellence in it is scarcely less difficult. It approaches the ease and
freedom of prose, and perhaps for that reason it is apt to sink below a
high level of poetry.
Apart from its diction and meter, the harmony of blank verse depends
upon two things,--namely, its _pauses_ and its _periods_. The
rhythmical pause occurring in a line is called a _cæsura_. Though
usually falling near the middle of the line, the cæsural pause may occur
at any point, and sometimes there may be two cæsuras. There is generally
a rhythmical pause at the end of a verse, and when this pause is
stressed by a completion of the sense the line is said to be
"end-stopt"; but if the sense awaits completion in the following verse,
the line is said to be "run-on." The French name _enjambement_ is
sometimes used to designate a "run-on" line. The following extract from
Thomson will serve to illustrate the cæsural pauses, as well as
"end-stopt" and "run-on" lines:
"These as they change, | Almighty Father, | these
Are but the varied God. | The rolling year
Is full of thee. | Forth in the pleasant Spring
Thy beauty walks, | thy tenderness and love.
Wide flush the fields; | the softening air is balm;
Echo the mountains round; the forest smiles;
And every sense, | and every heart, is joy.
Then comes thy glory | in the summer months
With light and heat refulgent. | Then thy sun
Shoots full perfection | through the swelling year."
By _period_ is meant the conclusion of the sentence. The _period_ or end
of a sentence may fall at the end of a line or at any point in it. The
period serves to break up the poem into longer or shorter parts. In
Milton the sentences are generally long, and the periods thus break up
the poem into a sort of stanza of varying length. "Run-on" lines are the
prevailing type; and this fact, in connection with the length of the
sentences and the constant shifting of the pauses, imparts to his
"Paradise Lost" its peculiar organ roll. The following passage will
serve to make this clear:
"Of man's first disobedience, | and the fruit
Of that forbidden tree, | whose mortal taste
Brought death into our world, | and all our woe,
With loss of Eden, | till one greater Man
Restore us, | and regain the blissful seat,
Sing, Heavenly Muse, | that on the secret top
Of Oreb, | or of Sinai, | didst inspire
That shepherd | who first taught the chosen seed
In the beginning | how the heavens and earth
Rose out of Chaos.
"Or, if Sion hill
Delight thee more, | and Siloa's brook that flowed
Fast by the oracle of God, | I thence
Invoke thy aid | to my adventurous song,
That with no middle flight | intends to soar
Above the Aonian mount, | while it pursues
Things unattempted yet | in prose or rhyme."
These sixteen lines practically make two stanzas. Twelve lines, or three
fourths of the whole number, are "run-on." The cæsural _pause_, as will
be seen on counting the feet in connection with which they occur, is
exceedingly varied.
With the two foregoing extracts may be compared the following from
Shelley's "Alastor," in which all the periods are "end-stopt," and
divide the selection into clearly recognizable and almost regular
stanzas. It will be noted that the movement and effect are very
different from those of Thomson and Milton.
"There was a poet | whose untimely tomb
No human hand | with pious reverence reared,
But the charmed eddies | of autumnal winds
Built o'er his mouldering bones | a pyramid
Of mouldering leaves | in the waste wilderness.
"A lovely youth, | no mourning maiden decked
With weeping flowers | or votive cypress wreath
The lone couch | of his everlasting sleep;
Gentle and brave and generous, | no lorn bard
Breathed o'er his dark fate | one melodious sigh;
He lived, he died, he sang, | in solitude.
"Strangers have wept | to hear his passionate notes;
And virgins, | as unknown he passed, | have pined
And wasted | for fond love of his wild eyes.
"The fire of those soft orbs | has ceased to burn,
And Silence, | too enamored of that voice,
Locks its mute music | in her rugged cell."
It will be observed that not only all the periods, but also twelve out
of the seventeen lines are "end-stopt."
+54. Poetic Style.+ By poetic style is meant the choice and arrangement
of words peculiar to poetry. While in the main poetic and prose diction
is the same, still there are words and verbal combinations admissible
only in poetry. Poetry strives after concreteness and vividness of
expression. Such words as _steed_, _swain_, _wight_, _muse_, _Pegasus_,
_yclept_, _a-cold_, _sprent_, _bower_, _meed_, _isle_, _a-field_,
_dight_, _sooth_, _hight_, and many others, are hardly ever met with in
ordinary prose. Their prose equivalents are generally preferred.
Poetry uses great freedom, called _poetic license_, in the order of
words and construction of sentences. The principal deviations from the
prose order are as follows:
(1) The verb may precede the subject for the sake of emphasis or meter;
as,
"_Came_ a _troop_ with broad swords swinging."
(2) The verb may follow its object; as,
"_Thee_, shepherd, _thee_ the woods, and desert caves,
And all their echoes, _mourn_."
(3) The infinitive may precede the word on which it depends; as,
"When first thy sire, _to send_ on earth
Virtue, his darling child, _designed_."
(4) Prepositional phrases may precede the verbs they modify; as,
"_Of man's first disobedience_, sing, Heavenly Muse."
(5) The preposition may follow the noun it governs; as,
"From peak to peak, the rattling crags _among_,
Leaps the live thunder."
(6) Adverbs may precede the words they modify; as,
"The plowman _homeward_ plods his weary way."
(7) Condensed expressions in the form of compound epithets are
frequently used; as,
"O music, _sphere-descended_ maid!"
(8) An expletive pronoun may be used to throw the subject after the
verb; as,
"It ceased, the melancholy sound."
(9) The relative pronoun may be omitted; as,
"'Tis fancy, in her fiery car,
Transports me to the thickest war."
(10) Intransitive verbs are sometimes used with an objective case; as,
"Still in harmonious intercourse they _lived_
The rural _day_, and _talked_ the flowing _heart_."
(11) Archaic or antiquated words and modes of expression may be used;
as,
"_Whilome_ in Albion's isle there dwelt a youth
Who _ne_ in virtue's ways did take delight."
(12) The noun may precede the adjective modifying it; as,
"The willows, and the hazel _copses green_."
REVIEW QUESTIONS
44. What is poetry? How is it distinguished from prose? What is the
difference between poetry and verse? 45. What is the relative position
of _poetry_ and _prose_? Illustrate the difference. 46. What is the
source of poetry? What is said of human life? What constitutes its lyric
poetry? Mention some mental aspects of nature. 47. How is the poet
regarded in a materialistic age? With what is the great poet gifted?
What is Bailey's estimate of poets? What is said of the rank of great
poets? Mention some of the world's greatest poets. 48. Why is the poet
called a _seer_? What is his relation to his contemporaries? What does
Mrs. Browning say of poets? What is said of Shakespeare? To what class
of themes does the best poetry give itself?
49. What is versification? What is its unit? How are syllables
distinguished? What is the function of _quantity_ in English verse?
Illustrate. What is the principle of English verse? What is a metrical
foot? Define _iambus_? Illustrate. Define a _trochee_, with example.
When is a verse or foot _catalectic_? Define a _dactyl_, with
illustration. Define an _anapest_, with example. Define a _spondee_;
_amphibrach_, with example.
50. How is a verse named? What is _iambic trimeter_? What is _iambic
pentameter_ called? What is _trochaic tetrameter_? Illustrate. What is
_dactylic hexameter_? Illustrate. Mention some well-known poems written
in this meter. What is _anapestic trimeter_? Illustrate. On what
principle may a syllable be added to a foot or omitted from it? Explain
the irregularities in the first two lines of Tennyson's "Break, break,
break." What is said of metrical irregularities? What is their purpose?
Illustrate from Wordsworth and Tennyson.
51. What is _rhyme_? Of what use is it? In what order may rhymes occur?
Illustrate. What is a _double rhyme_? What other name has it?
Illustrate. What is a _triple rhyme_? Illustrate. When is triple rhyme
usually employed? What is _middle rhyme_? Illustrate. What is
_sectional_ rhyme? Illustrate. What is _alliteration_? What is said of
it? Give illustrations from Mrs. Browning and Tennyson.
52. What is a stanza? What is a stanza of two lines called? of three? of
four? Illustrate. Explain _rhyme royal_; _ottava rima_; Spenserian
stanza. Illustrate. Explain the usual hymn meters, illustrating in each
case. 53. What is blank verse? What is said of its freedom and
difficulty? On what does its harmony depend? What is meant by _cæsura_?
What is an "end-stopt" line? A "run-on" line? What French name is used
for the latter? What is meant by _period_? Into what does the _period_
practically divide blank verse? On what does Milton's "organ roll"
depend? Point out a notable difference between Milton's and Shelley's
blank verse.
54. What is meant by poetic style? What is said of poetic diction?
Mention some poetic words. State some of the leading deviations in
construction?
ILLUSTRATIVE AND PRACTICAL EXERCISES
The following selections should be examined in the light of such
questions as these:
Is it _poetry_ or _verse_? What lifts it above prose?
Does it treat of nature, man, or God? Is it
intellectual, emotional, or both? What is the poet's
idea? Is it commonplace, true, elevated, delicate,
exquisite? What is the mood of the poet,--serious,
playful, humorous, calm, exalted? What imaginative
features has it? What concrete pictures? What
figures? Is it self-restrained and classic? Is it
loose and voluble?
As to structure, what is the fundamental foot? Name
each line. What irregularities may exist and for what
purpose? Is the movement slow or rapid? Explain the
source of slowness or rapidity. What is the order of
rhymes? Are they perfect or defective? Are there
double, triple, middle, or sectional rhymes? Point
out the alliteration. What is the effect? Name the
stanza. Is it blank verse? Where does the cæsural
pause fall in each line? Is there variety? Are the
lines "end-stopt" or "run-on"? Point out the poetic
words. What is their effect? What poetic
constructions are there? Divide the selections into
three classes,--_feeble_, _good_, _excellent_.
Now all our neighbors' chimneys smoke,
And Christmas blocks are burning;
Their ovens they with baked meats choke,
And all their spits are turning.
Without the door let sorrow lie;
And if for cold it hap to die,
We'll bury it in a Christmas pie,
And evermore be merry.--WITHER.
Silence in love betrays more woe
Than words, though ne'er so witty;
A beggar that is dumb, you know,
May challenge double pity.
Then wrong not, dearest to my heart,
My true, though secret passion;
He smarteth most that hides his smart,
And sues for no compassion.--RALEIGH.
Father, thy hand
Hath reared these venerable columns, thou
Didst weave this verdant roof. Thou didst look down
Upon the naked earth, and forthwith rose
All these fair ranks of trees. They, in thy sun,
Budded and shook their green leaves in thy breeze,
And shot toward heaven. The century-living crow
Whose birth was in their tops, grew old and died
Among their branches, till at last they stood,
As now they stand, mossy, and tall, and dark,
Fit shrine for humble worshipper to hold
Communion with his Maker.--BRYANT.
But since, O man! thy life and health demand
Not food alone, but labor from thy hand,
First, in the field, beneath the sun's strong rays,
Ask of thy mother Earth the needful maize;
She loves the race that courts her yielding soil,
And gives her bounties to the sons of toil.--BARLOW.
My days among the dead are passed;
Around me I behold,
Where'er these casual eyes are cast,
The mighty minds of old;
My never-failing friends are they,
With whom I converse day by day.
With them I take delight in weal,
And seek relief in woe;
And while I understand and feel
How much to them I owe,
My cheeks have often been bedewed
With tears of thoughtful gratitude.--SOUTHEY.
It is a beauteous evening, calm and free;
The holy time is quiet as a nun
Breathless with adoration; the broad sun
Is sinking down in its tranquillity;
The gentleness of heaven is on the sea;
Listen! the mighty being is awake,
And doth with his eternal motion make
A sound like thunder--everlastingly.
WORDSWORTH.
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And departing leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;
Footprints, that perhaps another
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.
Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.--LONGFELLOW.
Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade,
Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap,
Each in his narrow cell forever laid,
The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep.
The breezy call of incense-breathing morn,
The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed,
The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn,
No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed.
For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn,
Or busy housewife ply her evening care;
No children run to lisp their sire's return,
Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.--GRAY.
And slowly answered Arthur from the barge:
"The old order changeth, yielding place to new,
And God fulfils himself in many ways,
Lest one good custom should corrupt the world.
Comfort thyself: what comfort is in me?
I have lived my life, and that which I have done,
May He within himself make pure! but thou,
If thou shouldst never see my face again,
Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer
Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice
Rise like a fountain for me night and day.
For what are men better than sheep or goats
That nourish a blind life within the brain,
If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer
Both for themselves and those who call them friend?
For so the whole round earth is every way
Bound by gold chains about the feet of God."
TENNYSON.
All day thy wings have fanned
At that far height, the cold, thin atmosphere,
Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land,
Though the dark night is near.
And soon that toil shall end;
Soon shalt thou find a summer home, and rest,
And scream among thy fellows; reeds shall bend,
Soon, o'er thy sheltered nest.--BRYANT.
Then from a neighboring thicket the mocking-bird, wildest of
singers,
Swinging aloft on a willowy spray that hung o'er the water,
Shook from his little throat such floods of delirious music,
That the whole air and the woods and the waves seemed silent
to listen.
Plaintive at first were the tones, and sad; then soaring to
madness
Seemed they to follow or guide the revel of frenzied
Bacchantes.
Single notes were then heard, in sorrowful, low lamentation;
Till, having gathered them all, he flung them abroad in
derision,
As when, after a storm, a gust of wind through the tree-tops
Shakes down the rattling rain in a crystal shower on the
branches.
LONGFELLOW.
Over his keys the musing organist,
Beginning doubtfully and far away,
First lets his fingers wander as they list,
And builds a bridge from Dreamland for his lay;
Then, as the touch of his loved instrument
Gives hope and fervor, nearer draws his theme,
First guessed by faint auroral flushes sent
Along the wavering vista of his dream.--LOWELL.
And when I am stretched beneath the pines,
Where the evening star so holy shines,
I laugh at the lore and the pride of man,
At the sophist schools, and the learned clan;
For what are they all, in their high conceit,
When man in the bush with God may meet?--EMERSON.
'Twas twilight and the sunless day went down
Over the waste of waters; like a veil
Which, if withdrawn, would but disclose the frown
Of one whose hate is masked but to assail.
Thus to their hopeless eyes the night was shown,
And grimly darkled o'er the faces pale,
And the dim desolate deep: twelve days had Fear
Been their familiar, and now Death was here.--BYRON.
And oft the craggy cliff he loved to climb,
When all in mist the world below was lost--
What dreadful pleasure! there to stand sublime,
Like shipwrecked mariner on desert coast,
And view the enormous waste of vapor, tossed
In billows, lengthening to the horizon round,
Now scooped in gulfs, with mountains now embossed,
And hear the voice of mirth and song rebound,
Flocks, herds, and waterfalls, along the hoar profound!
BEATTIE.
NOTE
In addition to the foregoing poetical selections, those previously given
may be analyzed with reference to form, content, and mood. Their beauty
or excellence will now be more clearly understood. Furthermore, it is
recommended that the teacher assign brief poems, either from our
standard authors or from current literature, for full analysis and
criticism. The blank verse of Tennyson, Shelley, Milton, and Shakespeare
might be investigated and compared at considerable length in order to
determine the average length of their sentences, the place of the
cæsural pause, and the proportion of "end-stopt" or "run-on" lines.