Smooth flow the wâves || the zephyrs gently play,Belinda smîl’d || and all the world was gay.He rais’d his azure wând || and thus begun
Smooth flow the wâves || the zephyrs gently play,Belinda smîl’d || and all the world was gay.He rais’d his azure wând || and thus begun
Smooth flow the wâves || the zephyrs gently play,Belinda smîl’d || and all the world was gay.
He rais’d his azure wând || and thus begun
Examples of the second.
There lay three gârters || half a pair of gloves;And all the trôphies || of his former loves.Our humble prôvince || is to tend the fair,Not a less plêasing || though less glorious care.And hew triumphal ârches || to the ground
There lay three gârters || half a pair of gloves;And all the trôphies || of his former loves.Our humble prôvince || is to tend the fair,Not a less plêasing || though less glorious care.And hew triumphal ârches || to the ground
There lay three gârters || half a pair of gloves;And all the trôphies || of his former loves.
Our humble prôvince || is to tend the fair,Not a less plêasing || though less glorious care.
And hew triumphal ârches || to the ground
These accents make different impressions on the mind, which will be the subject of a following speculation. In the mean time, it may be safely pronounced a capital defect in the composition of verse, to put a low word, incapable of an accent, in the place where this accent should be. This bars the accent altogether; and I know no other fault more subversive of the melody, if it be not that of barring a pause altogether. I may add affirmatively, that it is a capital beauty in the composition of verse, to have the most important word of the sentence, so placed as that this capital accent may be laid upon it. No single circumstance contributes more to the energy of verse, than tohave this accent on a word, that, by the importance of its meaning, is intitled to a peculiar emphasis. To show the bad effect of excluding the capital accent, I refer the reader to some instances given above, p. ooo, where particles are separated by a pause from the capital words that make them significant, and which particles ought, for the sake of the melody, to be accented, were they capable of an accent. Add to these the following instances from the Essay on Criticism.
Oft, leaving what || is natural and fit,line 448.Not yet purg’d off, || of spleen and sour disdainl. 528.No pardon vile || obscenity should findl. 531.When love was all || an easy monarch’s carel. 537.For ’tis but half || a judge’s talk, to knowl. 562.’Tis not enough, || taste, judgement, learning, joinl. 563.That only makes || superior sense belov’dl. 578.Whose right it is, || uncensur’d, to be dulll. 590.’Tis best sometimes || your censure to restrainl. 597.
Oft, leaving what || is natural and fit,
line 448.
Not yet purg’d off, || of spleen and sour disdain
l. 528.
No pardon vile || obscenity should find
l. 531.
When love was all || an easy monarch’s care
l. 537.
For ’tis but half || a judge’s talk, to know
l. 562.
’Tis not enough, || taste, judgement, learning, join
l. 563.
That only makes || superior sense belov’d
l. 578.
Whose right it is, || uncensur’d, to be dull
l. 590.
’Tis best sometimes || your censure to restrain
l. 597.
When this fault is at the end of the line that closes a couplet, it leaves not the least trace of melody:
But of this frame the bearings, and the ties,The strong connections, nice dependencies
But of this frame the bearings, and the ties,The strong connections, nice dependencies
But of this frame the bearings, and the ties,The strong connections, nice dependencies
In a line expressive of what is humble or dejected, it improves the resemblance betwixt the sound and sense, to exclude the capital accent. This, to my taste, is a beauty in the following lines.
In thêse deep sôlitudes || and aŵful cellsThe pôor inhâbitant || behôlds in vain
In thêse deep sôlitudes || and aŵful cellsThe pôor inhâbitant || behôlds in vain
In thêse deep sôlitudes || and aŵful cells
The pôor inhâbitant || behôlds in vain
To conclude this article, the accents are not, like the syllables, confined to a certain number. Some lines have no fewer thanfive, and there are lines that admit not above one. This variety, as we have seen, depends entirely on the different powers of the component words. Particles, even where they are long by position, cannot be accented; and polysyllables, whatever space they occupy, admit but one accent. Polysyllables have another defect, that they generally exclude the full pause. I have shown above, that few polysyllables can find place in the construction of English verse. Here are reasons for excluding them, could they find place.
I am now prepared to fulfil a promise concerning the four sorts of lines that enter into English heroic verse. That these have, each of them, a peculiar melody distinguishable by a good ear, I ventured to suggest, and promised to account for: and though this subject is extremely delicate, I am not without hopes of making good my engagement. First, however, like a wary general, I take all advantages the ground will permit. I do not aver, that this peculiarity of modulation is in every instance perceptible. Far from it. The impression made by a period, whether it be verse or prose, is occasioned chiefly by the thought, and in an inferior degree by the words; and these articles are so intimately united with the melody, that they have each of them a strong influence upon the others. With respect to the melody in particular, instances are without number, of melody, in itself poor and weak, passing for rich and spirited where it is supported by the thought and expression. I am therefore intitled to insist, that this experiment be tried upon lines of equal rank. And to avoid the perplexity of various cases, I must also insist, that the lines chosen for a trial be regularly accented before the pause: for upon a matter abundantly refined in itself, I would not willingly be imbarrassed with faulty and irregular lines. These preliminaries being adjusted, I begin with some general observations, that will save repeating the same thing over and over upon each particular case. And, first, an accent succeeded by a pause, makes sensibly a deeper impression than where the voice goes on without a stop: to make an impression requires time; and there is no time where there is no pause. The fact is so certain, that in running over a few lines, there is scarce an ear so dull as not readily to distinguish from others, that particular accent which immediately precedes the full pause. In the next place, the elevation of an accenting tone, produceth in the mind a similar elevation, which is continued during the pause. Every circumstance is different where the pause is separated from the accent by a short syllable. The impression made by the accent is more slight when there is no stop; and the elevation of the accent is gone in a moment by the falling of the voice in pronouncing the short syllable that follows. The pause also is sensibly affected by the position of the accent. In lines of the first and third order, the close conjunction of the accent and pause, occasions a sudden stop without preparation, which rouses the mind, and bestows on the melody a spirited air. When, on the other hand, the pause is separated from the accent by a short syllable, which always happens inlines of the second and fourth order, the pause is soft and gentle. This short unaccented syllable succeeding one that is accented, must of course be pronounced with a falling voice, which naturally prepares for a pause. The mind falls gently from the accented syllable, and slides into rest as it were insensibly. Further, the lines themselves, derive different powers from the position of the pause. A pause after the fourth syllable divides the line into two unequal portions, of which the largest comes last. This circumstance resolving the line into an ascending series, makes an impression in pronouncing like that of mounting upward. And to this impression contributes the redoubled effort in pronouncing the largest portion, which is last in order. The mind has a different feeling when the pause succeeds the fifth syllable. The line being divided into two equal parts by this pause, these parts, pronounced with equal effort, are agreeable by their uniformity. A line divided by a pause after the sixth syllable, makes an impression opposite to that first mentioned. Being divided into two unequal portions, of which the shortest is last in order, it appears like a slow descending series; and the second portion being pronounced with less effort than the first, the diminished effort prepares the mind for rest. And this preparation for rest is still more sensibly felt where the pause is after the seventh syllable, as in lines of the fourth order.
No person can be at a loss in applying these observations. A line of the first order is of all the most spirited and lively. To produce this effect, several of the circumstances above mentioned concur. The accent, being followed instantly by a pause, makes an illustrious figure: the elevated tone of the accent elevates the mind: the mind is supported in its elevation by the sudden unprepared pause which rouses and animates: and the line itself, representing by its unequal division an ascending series, carries the mind still higher, making an impression similar to that of mounting upward. The second order has a modulation sensibly sweet, soft, and flowing. The accent is not so sprightly as in the former, because ashort syllable intervenes betwixt it and the pause: its elevation, by the same means, vanisheth instantaneously: the mind, by a falling voice, is gently prepared for a stop: and the pleasure of uniformity from the division of the line into two equal parts, is calm and sweet. The third order has a modulation not so easily expressed in words. It in part resembles the first order, by the liveliness of an accent succeeded instantly by a full pause. But then the elevation occasioned by this circumstance, is balanced in some degree by the remitted effort in pronouncing the second portion, which remitted effort has a tendency to rest. Another circumstance distinguisheth it remarkably. Its capital accent comes late, being placed on the sixth syllable; and this circumstance bestows on it an air of gravity and solemnity. The last order resembles the second in the mildness of its accent and softness of its pause. It is still more solemn than the third, by the lateness of its capital accent. It also possesses in a higher degree than the third, the tendency to rest; and by that circumstance is of all the best qualified for closing a period in the completest manner.
But these are not all the distinguishing characters of the different orders. Each order also, by means of its final accent and pause, makes a peculiar impression; so peculiar as to produce a melody clearly distinguishable from that of the others. This peculiarity is occasioned by the division which the capital pause makes in a line. By an unequal division in the first order, the mind has an impression of ascending; and is left at the close in the highest elevation, which is display’d on the concluding syllable. By this means, a strong emphasis is naturally laid upon the concluding syllable, whether by raising the voice to a sharper tone, or by expressing the word in a fuller tone. This order accordingly is of all the least proper for concluding a period, where a cadence is proper, and not an accent. In the second order, the final accent makes not so capital a figure. There is nothing singular in its being marked by a pause, for this is common to all the orders; and this order, being destitute of the impression of ascent, cannot rival the first order in the elevation of its accent, nor consequently in the dignity of its pause; for these always have a mutual influence. This order, however, with respect to its close, maintains a superiority over the third and fourth orders. In these the close is more humble, being brought down by the impression of descent, and by the remitted effort in pronouncing; considerably in the third order, and still more considerably in the last. According to this description, the concluding accents and pauses of the four orders being reduced to a scale, will form a descending series probably in an arithmetical progression.
After what is said, will it be thought refining too much to suggest, that the different orders are qualified for different purposes, and that a poet of genius will be naturally led to make a choice accordingly? I cannot think this altogether chimerical. It appears to me, that the first order is proper for a sentiment that is bold, lively, or impetuous; that the third order is proper for subjects grave, solemn, or lofty; the second forwhat is tender, delicate, or melancholy, and in general for all the sympathetic emotions; and the last for subjects of the same kind, when tempered with any degree of solemnity. I do not contend, that any one order is fitted for no other talk, than that assigned it. At that rate, no sort of modulation would be left for accompanying ordinary thoughts, that have nothing peculiar in them. I only venture to suggest, and I do it with diffidence, that one order is peculiarly adapted to certain subjects, and better qualified than the others for expressing such subjects. The best way to judge is by experiment; and to avoid the imputation of a partial search, I shall confine my instances to a single poem, beginning with the first order.
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 unfix’d 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 on her face, and you’ll forget ’em all.Rape of the Lock.
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 unfix’d 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 on her face, and you’ll forget ’em all.Rape of the Lock.
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 unfix’d 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 on her face, and you’ll forget ’em all.Rape of the Lock.
In accounting for the remarkable liveliness of this passage, it will be acknowledged by every one who has an ear, that the modulation must come in for a share. The lines, all of them, are of the first order; a very unusual circumstance in the author of this poem, so eminent for variety in his versification. Who can doubt, that, in this passage, he has been led by delicacy of taste to employ the first order preferably to the others?
Second order.
Our humbler province is to tend the fair,Not a less pleasing, though less glorious care;To save the powder from too rude a gale,Nor let th’ imprison’d essences exhale;To draw fresh colours from the vernal flow’rs;To steal from rainbows ere they drop their show’rs,&c.
Our humbler province is to tend the fair,Not a less pleasing, though less glorious care;To save the powder from too rude a gale,Nor let th’ imprison’d essences exhale;To draw fresh colours from the vernal flow’rs;To steal from rainbows ere they drop their show’rs,&c.
Our humbler province is to tend the fair,Not a less pleasing, though less glorious care;To save the powder from too rude a gale,Nor let th’ imprison’d essences exhale;To draw fresh colours from the vernal flow’rs;To steal from rainbows ere they drop their show’rs,&c.
Again,
Oh, thoughtless mortals! ever blind to fate,Too soon dejected, and too soon elate.Sudden, these honours shall be snatch’d away,And curs’d for ever this victorious day.
Oh, thoughtless mortals! ever blind to fate,Too soon dejected, and too soon elate.Sudden, these honours shall be snatch’d away,And curs’d for ever this victorious day.
Oh, thoughtless mortals! ever blind to fate,Too soon dejected, and too soon elate.Sudden, these honours shall be snatch’d away,And curs’d for ever this victorious day.
Third order.
To fifty chosen sylphs, of special note,We trust th’important charge, the petticoat.
To fifty chosen sylphs, of special note,We trust th’important charge, the petticoat.
To fifty chosen sylphs, of special note,We trust th’important charge, the petticoat.
Again,
Oh say what stranger cause, yet unexplor’d,Could make a gentle belle reject a lord?
Oh say what stranger cause, yet unexplor’d,Could make a gentle belle reject a lord?
Oh say what stranger cause, yet unexplor’d,Could make a gentle belle reject a lord?
A plurality of lines of the fourth order, would not have a good effect in succession; because, by a remarkable tendency to rest, its proper office is to close a period. The reader, therefore, must be satisfied with instances where this order is mixed with others.
Not louder shrieks to pitying Heav’n are cast,When husbands, or when lapdogs, breathe their last.
Not louder shrieks to pitying Heav’n are cast,When husbands, or when lapdogs, breathe their last.
Not louder shrieks to pitying Heav’n are cast,When husbands, or when lapdogs, breathe their last.
Again,
Steel could the works of mortal pride confound,And hew triumphal arches to the ground.
Steel could the works of mortal pride confound,And hew triumphal arches to the ground.
Steel could the works of mortal pride confound,And hew triumphal arches to the ground.
Again,
She sees, and trembles at th’ approaching ill,Just in the jaws of ruin, and codille.
She sees, and trembles at th’ approaching ill,Just in the jaws of ruin, and codille.
She sees, and trembles at th’ approaching ill,Just in the jaws of ruin, and codille.
Again,
With earnest eyes, and round unthinking face,He first the snuff-box open’d, then the case.
With earnest eyes, and round unthinking face,He first the snuff-box open’d, then the case.
With earnest eyes, and round unthinking face,He first the snuff-box open’d, then the case.
And this suggests another experiment, which is, to set the different orders more directly in opposition, by giving examples where they are mixed in the same passage.
First and second orders.
Sol through white curtains shot a tim’rous ray,And ope’d those eyes that must eclipse the day.
Sol through white curtains shot a tim’rous ray,And ope’d those eyes that must eclipse the day.
Sol through white curtains shot a tim’rous ray,And ope’d those eyes that must eclipse the day.
Again,
Not youthful kings in battle seiz’d alive,Not scornful virgins who their charms survive,Not ardent lovers robb’d of all their bliss,Not ancient ladies when refus’d a kiss,Not tyrants fierce that unrepenting die,Not Cynthia when her manteau’s pinn’d awry,E’er felt such rage, resentment, and despair,As thou, sad virgin! for thy ravish’d hair.
Not youthful kings in battle seiz’d alive,Not scornful virgins who their charms survive,Not ardent lovers robb’d of all their bliss,Not ancient ladies when refus’d a kiss,Not tyrants fierce that unrepenting die,Not Cynthia when her manteau’s pinn’d awry,E’er felt such rage, resentment, and despair,As thou, sad virgin! for thy ravish’d hair.
Not youthful kings in battle seiz’d alive,Not scornful virgins who their charms survive,Not ardent lovers robb’d of all their bliss,Not ancient ladies when refus’d a kiss,Not tyrants fierce that unrepenting die,Not Cynthia when her manteau’s pinn’d awry,E’er felt such rage, resentment, and despair,As thou, sad virgin! for thy ravish’d hair.
First and third.
Think what an equipage thou hast in air,And view with scorn two pages and a chair.
Think what an equipage thou hast in air,And view with scorn two pages and a chair.
Think what an equipage thou hast in air,And view with scorn two pages and a chair.
Again,
What guards the purity of melting maids,In courtly balls, and midnight-masquerades,Safe from the treach’rous friend, the daring spark,The glance by day, the whisper in the dark?
What guards the purity of melting maids,In courtly balls, and midnight-masquerades,Safe from the treach’rous friend, the daring spark,The glance by day, the whisper in the dark?
What guards the purity of melting maids,In courtly balls, and midnight-masquerades,Safe from the treach’rous friend, the daring spark,The glance by day, the whisper in the dark?
Again,
With tender billet-doux he lights the pyre,And breathes three am’rous sighs to raise the fire;Then prostrate falls, and begs, with ardent eyes,Soon to obtain, and long possess the prize.
With tender billet-doux he lights the pyre,And breathes three am’rous sighs to raise the fire;Then prostrate falls, and begs, with ardent eyes,Soon to obtain, and long possess the prize.
With tender billet-doux he lights the pyre,And breathes three am’rous sighs to raise the fire;Then prostrate falls, and begs, with ardent eyes,Soon to obtain, and long possess the prize.
Again,
Jove’s thunder roars, heav’n trembles all around,Blue Neptune storms, the bellowing deeps resound,Earth shakes her nodding tow’rs, the ground gives way,And the pale ghosts start at the flash of day!
Jove’s thunder roars, heav’n trembles all around,Blue Neptune storms, the bellowing deeps resound,Earth shakes her nodding tow’rs, the ground gives way,And the pale ghosts start at the flash of day!
Jove’s thunder roars, heav’n trembles all around,Blue Neptune storms, the bellowing deeps resound,Earth shakes her nodding tow’rs, the ground gives way,And the pale ghosts start at the flash of day!
Second and third.
Sunk in Thalestris’ arms, the nymph he found,Her eyes dejected, and her hair unbound.
Sunk in Thalestris’ arms, the nymph he found,Her eyes dejected, and her hair unbound.
Sunk in Thalestris’ arms, the nymph he found,Her eyes dejected, and her hair unbound.
Again,
On her heav’d bosom hung her drooping head,Which with a sigh she rais’d; and thus she said.
On her heav’d bosom hung her drooping head,Which with a sigh she rais’d; and thus she said.
On her heav’d bosom hung her drooping head,Which with a sigh she rais’d; and thus she said.
Musing on the foregoing subject, I begin to doubt whether I have not been all this while in a reverie. Here unexpectedly a sort of fairy-scene opens, where every object is new and singular. Is there any truth in the appearance, or is it merely a work of imagination? The scene seems to be a reality; and if it can bear examination, it must exalt greatly the melody of English heroic verse. If uniformity prevail, in the arrangement, in the equality of the lines, and in the resemblance of the final sounds; variety is still more conspicuous in the pauses and accents,which are diversified in a surprising manner. The beauty that results from combined objects, is justly observed to consist in a due mixture of uniformity and variety[102]. Of this beauty many instances have already occurred, but none more illustrious than English versification. However rude it may be by the simplicity of arrangement, it is highly melodious by its pauses and accents, so as already to rival the most perfect species known in Greece or Rome. And it is no disagreeable prospect to find it susceptible of still greater refinement.
We proceed to blank verse, which hath so many circumstances in common with rhyme, that what is necessary to be said upon it may be brought within a narrow compass. With respect to form, it differs not from rhyme farther than in rejecting the jingle of similar sounds. But let us not think this difference a trifle, or that we gain nothing by it but the purifying ourverse from a pleasure so childish. In truth, our verse is extremely cramped by rhyme; and the great advantage of blank verse is, that, being free from the fetters of rhyme, it is at liberty to attend the imagination in its boldest flights. Rhyme necessarily divides verse into couplets: each couplet makes a complete musical period; the parts of which are divided by pauses, and the whole summed up by a full close at the end: the modulation begins anew with the next couplet: and in this manner a composition in rhyme proceeds couplet after couplet. I have more than once had occasion to observe the influence that sound and sense have upon each other by their intimate union. If a couplet be a complete period with regard to the melody, it ought regularly to be so also with regard to the sense. This, it is true, proves too great a cramp upon composition; and licences are indulged, as explained above. These however must be used with discretion, so as to preserve some degree of uniformity betwixt the sense and the music.There ought never to be a full close in the sense but at the end of a couplet; and there ought always to be some pause in the sense at the end of every couplet. The same period as to sense may be extended through several couplets; but in this case each couplet ought to contain a distinct member, distinguished by a pause in the sense as well as in the sound; and the whole ought to be closed with a complete cadence. Rules such as these, must confine rhyme within very narrow bounds. A thought of any extent, cannot be reduced within its compass. The sense must be curtailed and broken into pieces, to make it square with the curtness of melody: and it is obvious, that short periods afford no latitude for inversion. I have examined this point with the greater accuracy, in order to give a just notion of blank verse; and to show that a slight difference in form may produce a very great difference in substance. Blank verse has the same pauses and accents with rhyme; and a pause at the end of every line, like what concludes the first line of a couplet. In a word, the rules ofmelody in blank verse, are the same that obtain with respect to the first line of a couplet. But luckily, being disengaged from rhyme, or, in other words, from couplets, there is access to make every line run into another, precisely as the first line of a couplet may run into the second. There must be a musical pause at the end of every line; but it is not necessary that it be accompanied with a pause in the sense. The sense may be carried on through different lines; till a period of the utmost extent be completed, by a full close both in the sense and the sound. There is no restraint, other than that this full close be at the end of a line. This restraint is necessary in order to preserve a coincidence betwixt sense and sound; which ought to be aimed at in general, and is indispensable in the case of a full close, because it has a striking effect. Hence the aptitude of blank verse for inversion; and consequently the lustre of its pauses and accents; for which, as observed above, there is greater scope in inversion, than when words run in their natural order.
In the second section of this chapter it is shown, that nothing contributes more than inversion to the force and elevation of language. The couplets of rhyme confine inversion within narrow limits. Nor would the elevation of inversion, were there access for it in rhyme, be extremely concordant with the humbler tone of that sort of verse. It is universally agreed, that the loftiness of Milton’s style supports admirably the sublimity of his subject; and it is not less certain, that the loftiness of his style arises chiefly from inversion. Shakespear deals little in inversion. But his blank verse, being a sort of measured prose, is perfectly well adapted to the stage. Laboured inversion is there extremely improper, because in dialogue it never can appear natural.
Hitherto I have considered the advantage of laying aside rhyme, with respect to that superior power of expression which verse acquires thereby. But this is not the only advantage of blank verse. It has another not less signal of its kind; and that is, of a more extensive and more complete melody.Its music is not, like that of rhyme, confined to a single couplet; but takes in a great compass, so as in some measure to rival music properly so called. The intervals betwixt its cadences may be long or short at pleasure; and, by this means, its modulation, with respect both to richness and variety, is superior far to that of rhyme; and superior even to that of the Greek and Latin Hexameter. Of this observation no person can doubt who is acquainted with theParadise Lost. In that work there are indeed many careless lines; but at every turn it shines out in the richest melody as well as in the sublimest sentiments. Take the following specimen.
Now Morn her rosy steps in th’ eastern climeAdvancing, sow’d the earth with orient pearl,When Adam wak’d, so custom’d, for his sleepWas aëry light from pure digestion bred,And temp’rate vapours bland, which th’ only soundOf leaves and fuming rills, Aurora’s fan,Lightly dispers’d, and the shrill matin songOf birds on every bough; so much the moreHis wonder was to find unwaken’d EveWith tresses discompos’d, and glowing cheek,As through unquiet rest: he on his sideLeaning half-rais’d, with looks of cordial loveHung over her enamour’d, and beheldBeauty, which, whether waking or asleep,Shot forth peculiar graces; then with voiceMild, as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes,Her hand soft touching, whisper’d thus. AwakeMy fairest, my espous’d, my latest found,Heav’n’s last best gift, my ever new delight,Awake; the morning shines, and the fresh fieldCalls us; we lose the prime, to mark how springOur tended plants, how blows the citron grove,What drops the myrrh, and what the balmy reed,How Nature paints her colours, how the beeSits on the bloom extracting liquid sweet.Book 1. l. 1.
Now Morn her rosy steps in th’ eastern climeAdvancing, sow’d the earth with orient pearl,When Adam wak’d, so custom’d, for his sleepWas aëry light from pure digestion bred,And temp’rate vapours bland, which th’ only soundOf leaves and fuming rills, Aurora’s fan,Lightly dispers’d, and the shrill matin songOf birds on every bough; so much the moreHis wonder was to find unwaken’d EveWith tresses discompos’d, and glowing cheek,As through unquiet rest: he on his sideLeaning half-rais’d, with looks of cordial loveHung over her enamour’d, and beheldBeauty, which, whether waking or asleep,Shot forth peculiar graces; then with voiceMild, as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes,Her hand soft touching, whisper’d thus. AwakeMy fairest, my espous’d, my latest found,Heav’n’s last best gift, my ever new delight,Awake; the morning shines, and the fresh fieldCalls us; we lose the prime, to mark how springOur tended plants, how blows the citron grove,What drops the myrrh, and what the balmy reed,How Nature paints her colours, how the beeSits on the bloom extracting liquid sweet.Book 1. l. 1.
Now Morn her rosy steps in th’ eastern climeAdvancing, sow’d the earth with orient pearl,When Adam wak’d, so custom’d, for his sleepWas aëry light from pure digestion bred,And temp’rate vapours bland, which th’ only soundOf leaves and fuming rills, Aurora’s fan,Lightly dispers’d, and the shrill matin songOf birds on every bough; so much the moreHis wonder was to find unwaken’d EveWith tresses discompos’d, and glowing cheek,As through unquiet rest: he on his sideLeaning half-rais’d, with looks of cordial loveHung over her enamour’d, and beheldBeauty, which, whether waking or asleep,Shot forth peculiar graces; then with voiceMild, as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes,Her hand soft touching, whisper’d thus. AwakeMy fairest, my espous’d, my latest found,Heav’n’s last best gift, my ever new delight,Awake; the morning shines, and the fresh fieldCalls us; we lose the prime, to mark how springOur tended plants, how blows the citron grove,What drops the myrrh, and what the balmy reed,How Nature paints her colours, how the beeSits on the bloom extracting liquid sweet.Book 1. l. 1.
Comparing the Latin Hexameter and English heroic rhyme, the former has obviously the advantage in the following particulars. It is greatly preferable as to arrangement, by the latitude it admits in placing the long and short syllables. Secondly, the length of an Hexameter line hath a majestic air: ours, by its shortness, is indeed more brisk and lively, but much less fitted for the sublime. And, thirdly, the long high-sounding words that Hexameter admits, add greatly to its majesty. To compensate these advantages, English rhyme possesses a greater number and greater variety both of pauses and of accents. These two sorts of verse stand indeed pretty much in opposition: in the Hexameter, great variety of arrangement, none in the pauses or accents: in the English rhyme, great variety in the pauses and accents, very little in the arrangement.
In blank verse are united, in a good measure, the several properties of Latin Hexameter and English rhyme; and it possesses beside many signal properties of its own. If is not confined, like a Hexameter, by a full close at the end of every line; nor, like rhyme, by a full close at the end of every couplet. This form of construction, which admits the lines to run into each other, gives it a still greater majesty than arises from the length of a Hexameter line. By the same means, it admits inversion even beyond the Latin or Greek Hexameter, which suffer some confinement by the regular closes at the end of every line. Inits music it is illustrious above all. The melody of Hexameter verse, is circumscribed to a line; and of English rhyme, to a couplet. The melody of blank verse is under no confinement, but enjoys the utmost privilege of which the melody of verse is susceptible, and that is to run hand in hand with the sense. In a word, blank verse is superior to the Hexameter in many articles; and inferior to it in none, save in the latitude of arrangement, and in the use of long words.
In the French heroic verse, there are found, on the contrary, all the defects of the Latin Hexameter and English rhyme, without the beauties of either. Subjected to the bondage of rhyme, and to the full close at the end of each couplet, it is further peculiarly disgustful by the uniformity of its pauses and accents. The line invariably is divided by the pause into two equal parts, and the accent is invariably placed before the pause.
Jeune et vaillant herôs || dont la haute sagesseNe’st point la fruit tardîf || d’une lente vieillesse.
Jeune et vaillant herôs || dont la haute sagesseNe’st point la fruit tardîf || d’une lente vieillesse.
Jeune et vaillant herôs || dont la haute sagesseNe’st point la fruit tardîf || d’une lente vieillesse.
Here every circumstance contributes to a most tedious uniformity. A constant return of the same pause and of the same accent, as well as an equal division of every line; by which the latter part always answers to the former, and fatigues the ear without intermission or change. I cannot set this matter in a better light, than by presenting to the reader a French translation of the following passage of Milton.
Two of far nobler shape, erect and tall,Godlike erect, with native honour cladIn naked majesty seem’d lords of all;And worthy seem’d, for in their looks divineThe image of their glorious Maker shon,Truth, wisdom, sanctitude severe and pure,Severe, but in true filial freedom plac’d;Whence true authority in men: though bothNot equal, as their sex not equal seem’d;For contemplation he and valour form’d,For softness she and sweet attractive grace,He for God only, she for God in him.
Two of far nobler shape, erect and tall,Godlike erect, with native honour cladIn naked majesty seem’d lords of all;And worthy seem’d, for in their looks divineThe image of their glorious Maker shon,Truth, wisdom, sanctitude severe and pure,Severe, but in true filial freedom plac’d;Whence true authority in men: though bothNot equal, as their sex not equal seem’d;For contemplation he and valour form’d,For softness she and sweet attractive grace,He for God only, she for God in him.
Two of far nobler shape, erect and tall,Godlike erect, with native honour cladIn naked majesty seem’d lords of all;And worthy seem’d, for in their looks divineThe image of their glorious Maker shon,Truth, wisdom, sanctitude severe and pure,Severe, but in true filial freedom plac’d;Whence true authority in men: though bothNot equal, as their sex not equal seem’d;For contemplation he and valour form’d,For softness she and sweet attractive grace,He for God only, she for God in him.
Were the pauses of the sense and sound in this passage, but a little better assorted, nothing in verse could be more melodious. Ingeneral, the great defect of Milton’s versification, in other respects admirable, is the want of coincidence betwixt the pauses of the sense and sound.
The translation is in the following words.
Ce lieu délicieux, ce paradis charmant,Reçoit deux objets son plus bel ornement;Leur port majestueux, et leur démarche altiere,Semble leur meriter sur la nature entiereCe droit de commander que Dieu leur a donné.Sur leur auguste front de gloire couronné,Du souverain du ciel drille la resemblance:Dans leur simples regards éclatte l’innocence,L’adorable candeur, l’aimable vérité,La raison, la sagesse, et la sévéritéQu’adoucit la prudence, et cet air de droitureDu visage des rois respectable parure.Ces deux objets divins n’ont pas les mêmes traits,Ils paroissent formés, quoique tous deux parfaits;L’un pour la majesté, la force, et la noblesse;L’autre pour la douceur, la grace, et la tendresse:Celui-ci pour Dieu seul, l’autre pour l’homme encor.
Ce lieu délicieux, ce paradis charmant,Reçoit deux objets son plus bel ornement;Leur port majestueux, et leur démarche altiere,Semble leur meriter sur la nature entiereCe droit de commander que Dieu leur a donné.Sur leur auguste front de gloire couronné,Du souverain du ciel drille la resemblance:Dans leur simples regards éclatte l’innocence,L’adorable candeur, l’aimable vérité,La raison, la sagesse, et la sévéritéQu’adoucit la prudence, et cet air de droitureDu visage des rois respectable parure.Ces deux objets divins n’ont pas les mêmes traits,Ils paroissent formés, quoique tous deux parfaits;L’un pour la majesté, la force, et la noblesse;L’autre pour la douceur, la grace, et la tendresse:Celui-ci pour Dieu seul, l’autre pour l’homme encor.
Ce lieu délicieux, ce paradis charmant,Reçoit deux objets son plus bel ornement;Leur port majestueux, et leur démarche altiere,Semble leur meriter sur la nature entiereCe droit de commander que Dieu leur a donné.Sur leur auguste front de gloire couronné,Du souverain du ciel drille la resemblance:Dans leur simples regards éclatte l’innocence,L’adorable candeur, l’aimable vérité,La raison, la sagesse, et la sévéritéQu’adoucit la prudence, et cet air de droitureDu visage des rois respectable parure.Ces deux objets divins n’ont pas les mêmes traits,Ils paroissent formés, quoique tous deux parfaits;L’un pour la majesté, la force, et la noblesse;L’autre pour la douceur, la grace, et la tendresse:Celui-ci pour Dieu seul, l’autre pour l’homme encor.
Here the sense is fairly translated, the words are of equal power, and yet how inferior the melody!
I take the liberty to add here a speculation, which, though collateral only, arises naturally from the subject, and shall be discussed in a few words. Many attempts have been made to introduce Hexameter verse into the living languages, but without success. The English language, I am inclined to believe, is not susceptible of this melody; and my reasons are these. First, the polysyllables in Latin and Greek are finely diversified by long and short syllables, a circumstance that qualifies them for the melody of Hexameter verse. Ours are extremely ill qualified for this service, because they superabound in short syllables. Secondly, the bulk of our monosyllables are arbitrary with regard to length, which is an unlucky circumstance in Hexameter. Custom, as observed above, may render familiar a long or short pronunciation of the same word: but the mind wavering betwixt the two sounds, cannot be so much arrested with either, as with a word that hath always the same sound; and for that reason, arbitrary sounds are ill fitted for a melody which is chiefly supportedby quantity. In Latin and Greek Hexameter, invariable sounds direct and ascertain the melody: English Hexameter would be destitute of melody, unless by artful pronunciation; because of necessity the bulk of its sounds must be arbitrary. The pronunciation is easy in a simple movement of alternate short and long syllables; but would be perplexing and unpleasant in the diversified movement of Hexameter verse.
Rhyme makes so great a figure in modern poetry, as to deserve a solemn trial. I have for that reason reserved it to be examined with some deliberation; in order to discover, if possible, its peculiar beauties, and the degree of merit it is intitled to. The first view of this subject leads naturally to the following reflection, “That rhyme having no relation to sentiment, nor any effect upon the ear other than a mere jingle, ought to be banished all compositions of any dignity, as affording but a trifling and childish pleasure.†It will also be observed, “That a jingle of wordshath in some measure a ludicrous effect; witness the celebrated poem ofHudibras, the double rhymes of which contribute no small share to its drollery; that this effect would be equally remarkable in a serious work, were it not obscured by the nature of the subject; that having however a constant tendency to give a ludicrous air to the composition, it requires more than ordinary fire to support the dignity of the sentiments against such an undermining antagonist[103].â€
These arguments are specious, and have undoubtedly some weight. Yet, on the other hand, it ought to be considered, that rhyme, in later times, has become universal among men as well as children; and that to give it a currency, it must have some foundation in human nature. In fact, it has been successfully employ’d by poets of genius, in their serious and grave compositions, as well as in those which are more light and airy. Here, in weighing authority against argument, the balance seems to hang pretty even; and therefore, to come at any thing decisive, we must pierce a little deeper.
Music has great power over the soul; and may be successfully employ’d to inflame or sooth our passions, if not actually to raise them. A single sound, however sweet, is not music; but a single sound repeated after proper intervals, may have an effect upon the mind, by rousing the attention and keeping the hearer awake. A variety of similar sounds, succeeding each other after regular intervals, must have a still stronger effect. This is applicable to rhyme, which consists in the connection that two verse-lines have by closing with two words similar in sound. And considering deliberately the effect that this may have; we find, that it rouses the attention, and produceth an emotion moderately gay without dignity or elevation. Like the murmurings of a brook gliding through pebbles, it calms the mind when perturbed, and gently raises it when sunk. These effects are scarce perceived when the wholepoem is in rhyme; but are extremely remarkable by contrast, in the couplets which close the several acts of our later tragedies. The tone of the mind is sensibly varied by them, from anguish, distress, or melancholy, to some degree of ease and alacrity. For the truth of this observation, I appeal to the speech of Jane Shore in the fourth act, when her doom was pronounced by Glo’ster; to the speech of Lady Jane Gray at the end of the first act; and to that of Calista, in theFair Penitent, when she leaves the stage, about the middle of the third act. The speech of Alicia, at the close of the fourth act ofJane Shore, puts the matter beyond doubt. In a scene of deep distress, the rhymes which finish the act, produce a certain gaiety and chearfulness, far from according with the tone of the passion.
Alicia. For ever? Oh! For ever!Oh! who can bear to be a wretch for ever!My rival too! his last thoughts hung on her:And, as he parted, left a blessing for her.Shall she be bless’d, and I be curs’d, for ever!No; since her fatal beauty was the causeOf all my suff’rings, let her share my pains;Let her, like me, of ev’ry joy forlorn,Devote the hour when such a wretch was born:Like me to deserts and to darkness run,Abhor the day and curse the golden sun;Cast ev’ry good and ev’ry hope behind;Detest the works of nature, loathe mankind:Like me with cries distracted fill the air,}Tear her poor bosom, and her frantic hair,}And prove the torments of the last despair.}
Alicia. For ever? Oh! For ever!Oh! who can bear to be a wretch for ever!My rival too! his last thoughts hung on her:And, as he parted, left a blessing for her.Shall she be bless’d, and I be curs’d, for ever!No; since her fatal beauty was the causeOf all my suff’rings, let her share my pains;Let her, like me, of ev’ry joy forlorn,Devote the hour when such a wretch was born:Like me to deserts and to darkness run,Abhor the day and curse the golden sun;Cast ev’ry good and ev’ry hope behind;Detest the works of nature, loathe mankind:Like me with cries distracted fill the air,}Tear her poor bosom, and her frantic hair,}And prove the torments of the last despair.}
Alicia. For ever? Oh! For ever!Oh! who can bear to be a wretch for ever!My rival too! his last thoughts hung on her:And, as he parted, left a blessing for her.Shall she be bless’d, and I be curs’d, for ever!No; since her fatal beauty was the causeOf all my suff’rings, let her share my pains;Let her, like me, of ev’ry joy forlorn,Devote the hour when such a wretch was born:Like me to deserts and to darkness run,Abhor the day and curse the golden sun;Cast ev’ry good and ev’ry hope behind;Detest the works of nature, loathe mankind:Like me with cries distracted fill the air,}Tear her poor bosom, and her frantic hair,}And prove the torments of the last despair.}
Having described, the best way I can, the impression that rhyme makes on the mind; I proceed to examine whether rhyme be proper for any subject, and to what subjects in particular it is best suited. Great and elevated subjects, which have a powerful influence, claim justly the precedence in this inquiry. In the chapter of grandeur and sublimity, it is established, that a grand or sublime object, inspires a warm enthusiastic emotion disdaining strict regularity and order. This observation is applicable to the present point. The moderately-enlivening music of rhyme, gives a tone to the mind very different from that of grandeur and sublimity. Supposing thenan elevated subject to be expressed in rhyme, what must be the effect? The intimate union of the music with the subject, produces an intimate union of their emotions; one inspired by the subject, which tends to elevate and expand the mind; and one inspired by the music, which, confining the mind within the narrow limits of regular cadency and similar sound, tends to prevent all elevation above its own pitch. Emotions so little concordant, cannot in union have a happy effect.
But it is scarce necessary to reason upon a case, that never did, and probably never will happen,viz.an important subject clothed in rhyme, and yet supported in its utmost elevation. A happy thought or warm expression, may at times give a sudden bound upward; but it requires a genius greater than has hitherto existed, to support a poem of any length in a tone much more elevated than that of the melody. Tasso and Ariosto ought not to be made exceptions, and still less Voltaire. And after all, where the poet has the dead weight of rhyme constantly to struggle with, howcan we expect an uniform elevation in a high pitch; when such elevation, with all the support it can receive from language, requires the utmost effort of the human genius?
But now, admitting rhyme to be an unfit dress for grand and lofty images; it has one advantage however, which is, to raise a low subject to its own degree of elevation. Addison[104]observes, “That rhyme, without any other assistance, throws the language off from prose, and very often makes an indifferent phrase pass unregarded; but where the verse is not built upon rhymes, there, pomp of sound and energy of expression are indispensably necessary, to support the style and keep it from falling into the flatness of prose.†This effect of rhyme is remarkable in the French verse, which, being simple and natural and in a good measure unqualified for inversion, readily sinks down to prose where it is not artificially supported. Rhyme, by rousing the mind, raises it somewhat above thetone of ordinary language: rhyme therefore is indispensable in the French tragedy; and may be proper even for their comedy. Voltaire[105]assigns this very reason for adhering to rhyme in these compositions. He indeed candidly owns, that even with the support of rhyme, the tragedies of his country are little better than conversation-pieces. This shows, that the French language is weak, and an improper dress for any grand subject. Voltaire was sensible of this imperfection; and yet Voltaire attempted an epic poem in that language.
The chearing and enlivening power of rhyme, is still more remarkable in poems of short lines, where the rhymes return upon the ear in a quick succession. And for that reason, rhyme is perfectly well adapted to gay, light, and airy subjects. Witness the following.