(1) All in the downs the fleet was moored,The streamers waving in the wind,When black-eyed Susan came aboard,“Oh! where shall I my true-love find?Tell me, ye jovial sailors, tell me true,If my sweet William sails among the crew?”William, who high upon the yardRocked with the billow to and fro,Soon as her well-known voice he heard,He sighed, and cast his eyes below:The cord slides swiftly through his glowing hands,And, quick as lightning, on the deck he stands.*****“O Susan, Susan, lovely dear,My vows shall ever true remain;Let me kiss off that falling tear;We only part to meet again.Change as ye list, ye winds! my heart shall beThe faithful compass that still points to thee.”*****The boatswain gave the dreadful word,The sails their swelling bosom spread;No longer must she stay aboard;They kissed, she sighed, he hung his head.Her lessening boat unwilling rows to land,“Adieu!” she cries, and waved her lily hand.Gay,Black-eyed Susan
(1) All in the downs the fleet was moored,The streamers waving in the wind,When black-eyed Susan came aboard,“Oh! where shall I my true-love find?Tell me, ye jovial sailors, tell me true,If my sweet William sails among the crew?”William, who high upon the yardRocked with the billow to and fro,Soon as her well-known voice he heard,He sighed, and cast his eyes below:The cord slides swiftly through his glowing hands,And, quick as lightning, on the deck he stands.*****“O Susan, Susan, lovely dear,My vows shall ever true remain;Let me kiss off that falling tear;We only part to meet again.Change as ye list, ye winds! my heart shall beThe faithful compass that still points to thee.”*****The boatswain gave the dreadful word,The sails their swelling bosom spread;No longer must she stay aboard;They kissed, she sighed, he hung his head.Her lessening boat unwilling rows to land,“Adieu!” she cries, and waved her lily hand.Gay,Black-eyed Susan
(1) All in the downs the fleet was moored,The streamers waving in the wind,When black-eyed Susan came aboard,“Oh! where shall I my true-love find?Tell me, ye jovial sailors, tell me true,If my sweet William sails among the crew?”
(1) All in the downs the fleet was moored,
The streamers waving in the wind,
When black-eyed Susan came aboard,
“Oh! where shall I my true-love find?
Tell me, ye jovial sailors, tell me true,
If my sweet William sails among the crew?”
William, who high upon the yardRocked with the billow to and fro,Soon as her well-known voice he heard,He sighed, and cast his eyes below:The cord slides swiftly through his glowing hands,And, quick as lightning, on the deck he stands.
William, who high upon the yard
Rocked with the billow to and fro,
Soon as her well-known voice he heard,
He sighed, and cast his eyes below:
The cord slides swiftly through his glowing hands,
And, quick as lightning, on the deck he stands.
*****
*****
“O Susan, Susan, lovely dear,My vows shall ever true remain;Let me kiss off that falling tear;We only part to meet again.Change as ye list, ye winds! my heart shall beThe faithful compass that still points to thee.”
“O Susan, Susan, lovely dear,
My vows shall ever true remain;
Let me kiss off that falling tear;
We only part to meet again.
Change as ye list, ye winds! my heart shall be
The faithful compass that still points to thee.”
*****
*****
The boatswain gave the dreadful word,The sails their swelling bosom spread;No longer must she stay aboard;They kissed, she sighed, he hung his head.Her lessening boat unwilling rows to land,“Adieu!” she cries, and waved her lily hand.Gay,Black-eyed Susan
The boatswain gave the dreadful word,
The sails their swelling bosom spread;
No longer must she stay aboard;
They kissed, she sighed, he hung his head.
Her lessening boat unwilling rows to land,
“Adieu!” she cries, and waved her lily hand.
Gay,Black-eyed Susan
(2) Hear me, ye nymphs, and every swain,I’ll tell how Peggy grieves me;Though thus I languish and complain,Alas! she ne’er believes me.My vows and sighs, like silent air,Unheeded, never move her;At the bonnie bush aboon Traquair,’Twas there I first did love her.*****Yet now she scornful flies the plain,The fields we then frequented;If e’er we meet she shows disdain,She looks as ne’er acquainted.The bonnie bush bloomed fair in May,Its sweets I’ll aye remember;But now her frowns make it decay—It fades as in December.Ye rural powers, who hear my strains,Why thus should Peggy grieve me?Oh, make her partner in my pains,Then let her smiles relieve me!If not, my love will turn despair,My passion no more tender;I’ll leave the bush aboon Traquair—To lonely wilds I’ll wander.Robert Crawford(died 1733)
(2) Hear me, ye nymphs, and every swain,I’ll tell how Peggy grieves me;Though thus I languish and complain,Alas! she ne’er believes me.My vows and sighs, like silent air,Unheeded, never move her;At the bonnie bush aboon Traquair,’Twas there I first did love her.*****Yet now she scornful flies the plain,The fields we then frequented;If e’er we meet she shows disdain,She looks as ne’er acquainted.The bonnie bush bloomed fair in May,Its sweets I’ll aye remember;But now her frowns make it decay—It fades as in December.Ye rural powers, who hear my strains,Why thus should Peggy grieve me?Oh, make her partner in my pains,Then let her smiles relieve me!If not, my love will turn despair,My passion no more tender;I’ll leave the bush aboon Traquair—To lonely wilds I’ll wander.Robert Crawford(died 1733)
(2) Hear me, ye nymphs, and every swain,I’ll tell how Peggy grieves me;Though thus I languish and complain,Alas! she ne’er believes me.My vows and sighs, like silent air,Unheeded, never move her;At the bonnie bush aboon Traquair,’Twas there I first did love her.
(2) Hear me, ye nymphs, and every swain,
I’ll tell how Peggy grieves me;
Though thus I languish and complain,
Alas! she ne’er believes me.
My vows and sighs, like silent air,
Unheeded, never move her;
At the bonnie bush aboon Traquair,
’Twas there I first did love her.
*****
*****
Yet now she scornful flies the plain,The fields we then frequented;If e’er we meet she shows disdain,She looks as ne’er acquainted.The bonnie bush bloomed fair in May,Its sweets I’ll aye remember;But now her frowns make it decay—It fades as in December.
Yet now she scornful flies the plain,
The fields we then frequented;
If e’er we meet she shows disdain,
She looks as ne’er acquainted.
The bonnie bush bloomed fair in May,
Its sweets I’ll aye remember;
But now her frowns make it decay—
It fades as in December.
Ye rural powers, who hear my strains,Why thus should Peggy grieve me?Oh, make her partner in my pains,Then let her smiles relieve me!If not, my love will turn despair,My passion no more tender;I’ll leave the bush aboon Traquair—To lonely wilds I’ll wander.Robert Crawford(died 1733)
Ye rural powers, who hear my strains,
Why thus should Peggy grieve me?
Oh, make her partner in my pains,
Then let her smiles relieve me!
If not, my love will turn despair,
My passion no more tender;
I’ll leave the bush aboon Traquair—
To lonely wilds I’ll wander.
Robert Crawford(died 1733)
3. The following three extracts are from the works of Swift, Addison, and Defoe. Ascribe each piece to its author, in each case giving distinctly your reasons for the selection of the authorship.
(1) When we were arrived upon the verge of his estate, we stopped at a little inn to rest ourselves and our horses. The man of the house had it seems been formerly a servant in the knight’s family; and to do honour to his old master, had some time since, unknown to Sir Roger, put him up in a sign-post before the door; so that the knight’s head had hung out upon the road about a week before he himself knew anything of the matter. As soon as Sir Roger was acquainted with it, finding that his servant’s indiscretion proceeded wholly from affection and goodwill, he only told him that he had made him too high a compliment; and when the fellow seemed to think that could hardly be, added with a more decisive look, That it was too great an honour for anyman under a duke; but told him at the same time, that it might be altered with a very few touches, and that he himself would be at the charge of it.
(1) When we were arrived upon the verge of his estate, we stopped at a little inn to rest ourselves and our horses. The man of the house had it seems been formerly a servant in the knight’s family; and to do honour to his old master, had some time since, unknown to Sir Roger, put him up in a sign-post before the door; so that the knight’s head had hung out upon the road about a week before he himself knew anything of the matter. As soon as Sir Roger was acquainted with it, finding that his servant’s indiscretion proceeded wholly from affection and goodwill, he only told him that he had made him too high a compliment; and when the fellow seemed to think that could hardly be, added with a more decisive look, That it was too great an honour for anyman under a duke; but told him at the same time, that it might be altered with a very few touches, and that he himself would be at the charge of it.
(2) I turned away over the fields, from Bow to Bromley, and down to Blackwall, to the stairs that are there for landing or taking water.Here I saw a poor man walking on the bank or sea-wall, as they call it, by himself. I walked awhile also about, seeing the houses all shut up; at last I fell into some talk, at a distance, with this poor man. First I asked him how people did there-abouts? “Alas! sir,” says he, “almost desolate; all dead or sick: here are very few families in this part, or in that village,” pointing at Poplar, “where half of them are not dead already, and the rest sick.” Then pointing to one house, “There they are all dead,” said he, “and the house stands open; nobody dares go into it. A poor thief,” says he, “ventured in to steal something, but he paid dear for his theft, for he was carried to the churchyard too, last night.”
(2) I turned away over the fields, from Bow to Bromley, and down to Blackwall, to the stairs that are there for landing or taking water.
Here I saw a poor man walking on the bank or sea-wall, as they call it, by himself. I walked awhile also about, seeing the houses all shut up; at last I fell into some talk, at a distance, with this poor man. First I asked him how people did there-abouts? “Alas! sir,” says he, “almost desolate; all dead or sick: here are very few families in this part, or in that village,” pointing at Poplar, “where half of them are not dead already, and the rest sick.” Then pointing to one house, “There they are all dead,” said he, “and the house stands open; nobody dares go into it. A poor thief,” says he, “ventured in to steal something, but he paid dear for his theft, for he was carried to the churchyard too, last night.”
(3) I arrived at the fleet in less than half an hour. The enemy was so frightened when they saw me that they leapt out of their ships, and swam to shore, where there could not be fewer than thirty thousand souls. I then took my tackling, and fastening a hook to the hole at the prow of each, I tied all the cords together at the end. While I was thus employed, the enemy discharged several thousand arrows, many of which stuck in my hands and face; and besides the excessive smart, gave me much disturbance in my work. My greatest apprehension was for my eyes, which I should have infallibly lost, if I had not suddenly thought of an expedient.
(3) I arrived at the fleet in less than half an hour. The enemy was so frightened when they saw me that they leapt out of their ships, and swam to shore, where there could not be fewer than thirty thousand souls. I then took my tackling, and fastening a hook to the hole at the prow of each, I tied all the cords together at the end. While I was thus employed, the enemy discharged several thousand arrows, many of which stuck in my hands and face; and besides the excessive smart, gave me much disturbance in my work. My greatest apprehension was for my eyes, which I should have infallibly lost, if I had not suddenly thought of an expedient.
4. We give two extracts, one dramatic and one non-dramatic, from the blank verse of the time. Does the verse strike you as being passionate, interesting, or profound? How would you describe it? Discuss the meter—its regularity, melody, and power.
(1) It must be so—Plato, thou reason’st well,Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire,This longing after immortality?Or whence this secret dread and inward horrorOf falling into nought? Why shrinks the soulBack on herself and startles at destruction?—’Tis the Divinity that stirs within us;’Tis heaven itself that points out an hereafter,And intimates Eternity to man.Addison,Cato
(1) It must be so—Plato, thou reason’st well,Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire,This longing after immortality?Or whence this secret dread and inward horrorOf falling into nought? Why shrinks the soulBack on herself and startles at destruction?—’Tis the Divinity that stirs within us;’Tis heaven itself that points out an hereafter,And intimates Eternity to man.Addison,Cato
(1) It must be so—Plato, thou reason’st well,Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire,This longing after immortality?Or whence this secret dread and inward horrorOf falling into nought? Why shrinks the soulBack on herself and startles at destruction?—’Tis the Divinity that stirs within us;’Tis heaven itself that points out an hereafter,And intimates Eternity to man.Addison,Cato
(1) It must be so—Plato, thou reason’st well,
Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire,
This longing after immortality?
Or whence this secret dread and inward horror
Of falling into nought? Why shrinks the soul
Back on herself and startles at destruction?
—’Tis the Divinity that stirs within us;
’Tis heaven itself that points out an hereafter,
And intimates Eternity to man.
Addison,Cato
(2) Be wise to-day: ’tis madness to defer;Next day the fatal precedent will plead;Thus on, till wisdom is push’d out of life.Procrastination is the thief of time;Year after year it steals till all are fled,And to the mercies of a moment leavesThe vast concerns of an eternal scene.If not so frequent, would not this be strange?That ’tis so frequent,thisis stranger still.Young,Night Thoughts
(2) Be wise to-day: ’tis madness to defer;Next day the fatal precedent will plead;Thus on, till wisdom is push’d out of life.Procrastination is the thief of time;Year after year it steals till all are fled,And to the mercies of a moment leavesThe vast concerns of an eternal scene.If not so frequent, would not this be strange?That ’tis so frequent,thisis stranger still.Young,Night Thoughts
(2) Be wise to-day: ’tis madness to defer;Next day the fatal precedent will plead;Thus on, till wisdom is push’d out of life.Procrastination is the thief of time;Year after year it steals till all are fled,And to the mercies of a moment leavesThe vast concerns of an eternal scene.If not so frequent, would not this be strange?That ’tis so frequent,thisis stranger still.Young,Night Thoughts
(2) Be wise to-day: ’tis madness to defer;
Next day the fatal precedent will plead;
Thus on, till wisdom is push’d out of life.
Procrastination is the thief of time;
Year after year it steals till all are fled,
And to the mercies of a moment leaves
The vast concerns of an eternal scene.
If not so frequent, would not this be strange?
That ’tis so frequent,thisis stranger still.
Young,Night Thoughts
5. What is the object of Swift in the following satirical passage? How does he achieve it? How are the style, figures of speech, and meter suited to his purpose? Compare this extract with that fromHudibrasgiven on pp.208–9. Which is the wittier and more deadly? How is the superiority gained?
Hobbes clearly proves that every creatureLives in a state of war by nature.The greater for the smallest watch,But meddle seldom with their match.A whale of moderate size will drawA shoal of herrings down his maw:A fox with geese his belly crams;A wolf destroys a thousand lambs:But search among the rhyming race,The brave are worried by the base.If on Parnassus’ top you sit,You rarely bite, are always bit.Each poet of inferior sizeOn you shall rail and criticise,And strive to tear you limb from limb;While others do as much for him.The vermin only tease and pinchTheir foes superior by an inch.So, naturalists observe, a fleaHath smaller fleas that on him prey;And these have smaller still to bite ’em,And so proceedad infinitum.Thus every poet in his kindIs bit by him that comes behind:Who, though too little to be seen,Can tease, and gall, and give the spleen.Rhapsody on Poetry
Hobbes clearly proves that every creatureLives in a state of war by nature.The greater for the smallest watch,But meddle seldom with their match.A whale of moderate size will drawA shoal of herrings down his maw:A fox with geese his belly crams;A wolf destroys a thousand lambs:But search among the rhyming race,The brave are worried by the base.If on Parnassus’ top you sit,You rarely bite, are always bit.Each poet of inferior sizeOn you shall rail and criticise,And strive to tear you limb from limb;While others do as much for him.The vermin only tease and pinchTheir foes superior by an inch.So, naturalists observe, a fleaHath smaller fleas that on him prey;And these have smaller still to bite ’em,And so proceedad infinitum.Thus every poet in his kindIs bit by him that comes behind:Who, though too little to be seen,Can tease, and gall, and give the spleen.Rhapsody on Poetry
Hobbes clearly proves that every creatureLives in a state of war by nature.The greater for the smallest watch,But meddle seldom with their match.A whale of moderate size will drawA shoal of herrings down his maw:A fox with geese his belly crams;A wolf destroys a thousand lambs:But search among the rhyming race,The brave are worried by the base.If on Parnassus’ top you sit,You rarely bite, are always bit.Each poet of inferior sizeOn you shall rail and criticise,And strive to tear you limb from limb;While others do as much for him.The vermin only tease and pinchTheir foes superior by an inch.So, naturalists observe, a fleaHath smaller fleas that on him prey;And these have smaller still to bite ’em,And so proceedad infinitum.Thus every poet in his kindIs bit by him that comes behind:Who, though too little to be seen,Can tease, and gall, and give the spleen.Rhapsody on Poetry
Hobbes clearly proves that every creature
Lives in a state of war by nature.
The greater for the smallest watch,
But meddle seldom with their match.
A whale of moderate size will draw
A shoal of herrings down his maw:
A fox with geese his belly crams;
A wolf destroys a thousand lambs:
But search among the rhyming race,
The brave are worried by the base.
If on Parnassus’ top you sit,
You rarely bite, are always bit.
Each poet of inferior size
On you shall rail and criticise,
And strive to tear you limb from limb;
While others do as much for him.
The vermin only tease and pinch
Their foes superior by an inch.
So, naturalists observe, a flea
Hath smaller fleas that on him prey;
And these have smaller still to bite ’em,
And so proceedad infinitum.
Thus every poet in his kind
Is bit by him that comes behind:
Who, though too little to be seen,
Can tease, and gall, and give the spleen.
Rhapsody on Poetry
6. We give an example of Swift’s prose satire, a passage in which he describes the progress of a political lie. What is the figure of speech underlying the passage, and how does it assist his purpose? Compare this passage with the poetical one given in the last exercise: do the two passages correspond in style, figurativeness, and force? Which strikes you as being the more effective?
No wonder if an infant so miraculous in its birth should be destined for great adventures: and accordingly we see it hath been the guardian spirit of a prevailing party for almost twenty years. It can conquer kingdoms without fighting, and sometimes with the loss of a battle. It gives and resumes employments; can sink a mountain to a mole-hill, and raise a mole-hill to a mountain; hath presided for many years at committees of elections; can wash a blackmoor white; make a saint of an atheist, and a patriot of a profligate; can furnish foreign ministers with intelligence, and raise or let fall the credit of the nation. This goddess flies with a huge looking-glass in her hands, to dazzle the crowd, and make them see, according as she turns it, their ruin in their interest, and their interest in their ruin. In this glass you will behold your best friends, clad in coats powdered withfleurs de lis, and triple crowns; their girdles hung round with chains, and beads, and wooden shoes; and your worst enemies adorned with the ensigns of liberty, property, indulgence, moderation, and a cornucopia in their hands. Her large wings, like those of a flying-fish, are of no use but while they are moist; she therefore dips them in mud, and soaring aloft scatters it in the eyes of the multitude, flying with great swiftness; but at every turn is forced to stoop in dirty ways for new supplies.The Examiner
No wonder if an infant so miraculous in its birth should be destined for great adventures: and accordingly we see it hath been the guardian spirit of a prevailing party for almost twenty years. It can conquer kingdoms without fighting, and sometimes with the loss of a battle. It gives and resumes employments; can sink a mountain to a mole-hill, and raise a mole-hill to a mountain; hath presided for many years at committees of elections; can wash a blackmoor white; make a saint of an atheist, and a patriot of a profligate; can furnish foreign ministers with intelligence, and raise or let fall the credit of the nation. This goddess flies with a huge looking-glass in her hands, to dazzle the crowd, and make them see, according as she turns it, their ruin in their interest, and their interest in their ruin. In this glass you will behold your best friends, clad in coats powdered withfleurs de lis, and triple crowns; their girdles hung round with chains, and beads, and wooden shoes; and your worst enemies adorned with the ensigns of liberty, property, indulgence, moderation, and a cornucopia in their hands. Her large wings, like those of a flying-fish, are of no use but while they are moist; she therefore dips them in mud, and soaring aloft scatters it in the eyes of the multitude, flying with great swiftness; but at every turn is forced to stoop in dirty ways for new supplies.
The Examiner
7. “The bulk of your natives appear to me to be the most pernicious race of odious little vermin that Nature ever suffered to crawl upon the face of the earth.” The King of Brobdingnag says this to Gulliver. How far does this represent Swift’s attitude inGulliver’s Travels, and how far does he succeed in conveying this impression?
8. “I fared like a distressed prince who calls in a powerful neighbour to his aid: I was undone by my auxiliary; when I had once called him in, I could not subsist without dependence on him.” This is Steele’s own estimate ofAddison’s contribution toThe TatlerandThe Spectator. As far as you can, estimate the share of each writer in the production of the two periodicals, and apportion their relative importance.
9. How much of their personal peculiarities and weaknesses appears in the writings of Swift, Pope, and Steele? How far does the nature of their literary work drive them to this self-revelation?
10. Account for the decline of the drama during the first half of the eighteenth century.
11. From an examination of the table given on p.273answer the following questions: What branches of poetry are most weakly represented during the age of Pope? Why is that so? What branch of prose-writing is the strongest? Why is that so?
12. Why is the period of Pope called “the Age of Prose”? Does this description of the time need modification?
13. Give reasons for the rise of periodical literature during this period.
14. The humor of Addison “is that of a gentleman, in which the quickest sense of the ridiculous is constantly tempered by good nature and good breeding.... He preserves a look of demure serenity.... The mirth of Swift is the mirth of Mephistopheles.... Swift moves laughter, but never joins in it.” (Macaulay.) Compare the humor of Swift with that of Addison. Which of the two does Pope more closely resemble in humor?
15. “Fancy, provided she knows her place, is tolerated; but Imagination is kept at a distance.” (Saintsbury.) Show how far this statement applies to the poetry of this time.