THE SONG
A variety of verse which has great vogue now and which has so developed
as to be considered almost as individual as the rondeau or sonnet is the
modern "song."
Formerly the "song" was written to music or at least written that it
might be set to music, but now it must sing itself. It may dress in
sober iambics if it pleases, but there must be a lilt and go to the
words to suggest music. Among the best examples of this form open to the
reader are the songs of Robert Burns. Though written to fit old Scotch
airs the words themselves suggest a melody to any one with the slightest
ear for music. For instance:
"My luve is like a red, red rose
That's newly sprung in June:
My luve is like the melodie
That's sweetly played in tune.
"As fair thou art, my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I:
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a' the seas gang dry.
"Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt in the sun:
I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o' life shall run.
"And fare thee weel, my only luve!
And fare thee weel awhile:
And I will come again, my luve,
Tho' it were ten thousand mile."
Though not the author of much printed verse Robert Louis Stevenson has
written more than one singing stanza:
"Bright is the ring of words
When the right man rings them,
Fair is the fall of songs
When the singer sings them.
Still they are carolled and said--
On wings they are carried--
After the singer is dead
And the maker buried."
Going to the works of W. E. Henley we find much very singable verse. In
the quoted example he has used in the chorus the suggestion of an old
Scotch stanza:
"Oh Falmouth is a fine town with ships in the bay,
And I wish from my heart it's there I was to-day:
I wish from my heart I was far away from here,
Sitting in my parlor and talking to my dear.
For it's home, dearie, home--it's home I want to be,
Our topsails are hoisted and we'll away to sea.
Oh, the oak and the ash and the bonnie birken tree,
They're all growing green in the old countree."
Austin Dobson in a longer poem makes use of the following stanza:
"Across the grass I see her pass;
She comes with tripping pace,--
A maid I know, the March winds blow
Her hair across her face;--
With a hey, Dolly! ho Dolly!
Dolly shall be mine,
Before the spray is white with May
Or blooms the eglantine."
In all of Kipling the singing quality is dominant. He is to be marked
especially because in his songs he has combined the old meters so as to
give the effect of absolute novelty. The Scotch poets of Burns' time and
before, offer many excellent chances for imitation and study.
Shakespeare's occasional songs are always true. A seldom quoted poem of
Lord Byron's is full of melody:
"So we'll go no more a roving
So late into the night,
Though the heart be still as loving,
And the moon be still as bright.
"For the sword outwears its sheath,
And the soul wears out the breast,
And the heart must pause to breathe,
And love itself have rest.
"Though the night was made for loving
And the day returns too soon,
Yet we'll go no more a roving
By the light of the moon."
Just exactly where the singing quality of a song lies it is hard to
tell. It is not altogether in the open vowels or the meter or the flow
of thought, though dependent on all three. It is impossible to formulate
any rule for the construction of the song except the general laws of
good taste. The only plan is to try and try again until the result
contains something of the singing quality. Very often it is helpful to
fit the words to some air imaginary or otherwise which runs in the head.
The song may be long or short, tell little or a great deal. In practice,
as a rule, it is less than twenty-four lines in length and expresses a
single thought or emotion. Its only two essentials are that it be
graceful and that it sing.
IX
TYPES OF MODERN VERSE