Plēnĭpŏtēnt on earth of matchless might,
I feel so sure about this last word plēnĭpŏtēnt that I should not
scruple to treat him as Atlas and make him bear the whole burden of my
defence—without going on,—which I might do,—to such compound
tetrasyllables as ōvĕrfătīgue—ōvĕr-dĕlīght—cōnquerŏr-like _sex_.
Nēvĕrthĕlēss before dismissing the subject, it is quite proper for me to
be candid, and confess that I am aware of the imperfection of most of
our choriambi, and that, generally speaking, the foot is considerably
_mutatus ab illo_ in the process of its naturalization into our
language. But you do recognise our dactyls; for which they owe you no
obligation; for you must do so on your principle, and the recognition is
unattended with any complimentary or obliging expression on your
part,—rather with Boileau’s pathetic remonstrance.
Que vous ont fait nos oreilles
Pour les traites si durement?
Therefore I submit to you whether our choriambi do not deserve a similar
recognition, tho’ possibly a similar remonstrance.
Page 46. “If my mode of accenting Pope’s verse be thought the right one,
it seems clear that a trochee at the beginning of an English verse, if
followed by another trochee, tho’ it may give vigour, does not also
produce grace.” I have so little intention of decrying the choriambus,
in marking down the above passage, that I have merely been induced to do
so by sympathizing very strongly with your delighted feelings respecting
it,—and by a consequent regret that you should depreciate its propriety
in the _second place_,—which you seem to do, with some reservation.
There can I should think be no doubt as to the propriety of your
reading, in Pope’s line,—