'Ye nuten hwat ye biddeþ, þat of gode nabbeþ imone;for al eure bileve is on stokke oþer on stone:ac þeo, þat god iknoweþ, heo wyten myd iwisse,þat hele is icume to monne of folke judaysse.''Loverd,' heo seyde, 'nu quiddeþ men, þat cumen is Messyas,þe king, þat wurþ and nuþen is and ever yete was.hwenne he cumeþ, he wyle us alle ryhtleche;for he nule ne he ne con nenne mon bipeche.'
'Ye nuten hwat ye biddeþ, þat of gode nabbeþ imone;for al eure bileve is on stokke oþer on stone:ac þeo, þat god iknoweþ, heo wyten myd iwisse,þat hele is icume to monne of folke judaysse.''Loverd,' heo seyde, 'nu quiddeþ men, þat cumen is Messyas,þe king, þat wurþ and nuþen is and ever yete was.hwenne he cumeþ, he wyle us alle ryhtleche;for he nule ne he ne con nenne mon bipeche.'
(De Muliere Samaritana, ll. 51-58. In Morris'sOld English Miscellany, p. 84; and Zupitza'sAlt- und Mittelenglisches Übungsbuch, p. 83. ab. 1250.)
This early poem illustrates the irregular use of alexandrines near the time of their introduction into English. The poem opens with a septenary—
"Tho Iesu Crist an eorthe was, mylde weren his dede;"
"Tho Iesu Crist an eorthe was, mylde weren his dede;"
and septenaries and alexandrines are used interchangeably. Dr. Triggs says, in his notes on the poem in McLean's editionof Zupitza'sÜbungsbuch, that lines 5, 6, 9-18, 25-28, 39, 40, 43, 44, 49-54, 57, 58, 63, 64, 66, 67, 70-72, 74, 75 are alexandrines. (Introduction, p. lxii.) The English tendency toward indifference to regularity in the counting of syllables is also noticeable. In the same way the early poem called "The Passion of our Lord" (ed. Morris, E.E.T.S. xlix. 37), which is thought from the heading—"Ici cumence la passyun ihesu crist en engleys"—to be a translation from the French, shows a preponderance of alexandrines, although it opens in septenary. See also such poems as the "Death," "Doomsday," etc., in theOld English Miscellany. The alexandrine was easily confused by the Middle English writers, not only with the septenary, but with the native "long line," and it is often difficult to say just what rhythm was in the writer's mind. Thus a line like
"Be stille, leve soster, thin herte the to-breke,"
"Be stille, leve soster, thin herte the to-breke,"
from theJudas, may be regarded either as an alexandrine or a long four-stress line.
In Westsex was þan a kyng, his [name] was Sir Ine.Whan he wist of the Bretons, of werre ne wild he fine.Messengers he sent thorghout InglondUnto þe Inglis kynges, þat had it in þer hond,And teld how þe Bretons, men of mykelle myght,Þe lond wild wynne ageyn þorh force and fyght.Hastisly ilkone þe kynges com fulle suythe,Bolde men and stoute, þer hardinesse to kiþe.In a grete Daneis felde þer þei samned alle,Þat ever siþen hiderward Kampedene men kalle.
In Westsex was þan a kyng, his [name] was Sir Ine.Whan he wist of the Bretons, of werre ne wild he fine.Messengers he sent thorghout InglondUnto þe Inglis kynges, þat had it in þer hond,And teld how þe Bretons, men of mykelle myght,Þe lond wild wynne ageyn þorh force and fyght.Hastisly ilkone þe kynges com fulle suythe,Bolde men and stoute, þer hardinesse to kiþe.In a grete Daneis felde þer þei samned alle,Þat ever siþen hiderward Kampedene men kalle.
(Robert Manningof Brunne:Chronicle of Peter de Langtoft. Hearne ed., vol. i. p. 2. ab. 1325.)
This poem is one of the very few representatives of distinctly alexandrine verse in Middle English. The original poem beingin alexandrines, Manning followed it closely. In the first part, however, he put rimes only at the ends of the verses, whereas later he introduced internal rime, thus resolving the verse into short lines of three stresses. Schipper observes that the four following lines are each representative of a familiar type of the French alexandrine:
"Messengers he sent þorghout InglondUnto the Inglis kynges, þat had it in þer hond.""After Ethelbert com Elfrith his broþer,Þat was Egbrihtes sonne and ȝit þer was an oþer."
"Messengers he sent þorghout InglondUnto the Inglis kynges, þat had it in þer hond."
"After Ethelbert com Elfrith his broþer,Þat was Egbrihtes sonne and ȝit þer was an oþer."
(Englische Metrik, vol. i. p. 252.)
The so-calledLegend-Cycleis also marked by a sort of alexandrine couplet. (See ten Brink'sEnglish Literature, Kennedy trans., vol. i. p. 274.)
O! think I, had I wings like to the simple dove,This peril might I fly, and seek some place of restIn wilder woods, where I might dwell far from these cares.What speedy way of wing my plaints should they lay on,To 'scape the stormy blast that threatened is to me?Rein those unbridled tongues! break that conjured league!For I decipher'd have amid our town the strife.
O! think I, had I wings like to the simple dove,This peril might I fly, and seek some place of restIn wilder woods, where I might dwell far from these cares.What speedy way of wing my plaints should they lay on,To 'scape the stormy blast that threatened is to me?Rein those unbridled tongues! break that conjured league!For I decipher'd have amid our town the strife.
(Earl of Surrey:Psalm. LV. ab. 1540.)
This is a not very successful experiment in unrimed alexandrines. Others of Surrey's Psalms are in rimed "Poulter's Measure" (alexandrines alternating with septenary).
O, let me breathe a while, and hold thy heavy hand,My grievous faults with Shame enough I understand.Take ruth and pity on my plaint, or else I am forlorn;Let not the world continue thus in laughing me to scorn.Madam, if I be he, to whom you once were bent,With whom to spend your time sometime you were content:If any hope be left, if any recompenseBe able to recover this forepassed negligence,O, help me now, poor wretch, in this most heavy plight,And furnish me yet once again with Tediousness to fight.
O, let me breathe a while, and hold thy heavy hand,My grievous faults with Shame enough I understand.Take ruth and pity on my plaint, or else I am forlorn;Let not the world continue thus in laughing me to scorn.Madam, if I be he, to whom you once were bent,With whom to spend your time sometime you were content:If any hope be left, if any recompenseBe able to recover this forepassed negligence,O, help me now, poor wretch, in this most heavy plight,And furnish me yet once again with Tediousness to fight.
(The Marriage of Wit and Science, V. ii., in Dodsley'sOld English Plays, ed. Hazlitt, vol. ii. p. 386. ab. 1570.)
In this play the alexandrine is the dominant measure, though mingled with occasional septenaries still. (See Schipper, vol. i. p. 256.)
While favor fed my hope, delight with hope was brought,Thought waited on delight, and speech did follow thought;Then grew my tongue and pen records unto thy glory,I thought all words were lost that were not spent of thee,I thought each place was dark but where thy lights would be,And all ears worse than deaf that heard not out thy story.
While favor fed my hope, delight with hope was brought,Thought waited on delight, and speech did follow thought;Then grew my tongue and pen records unto thy glory,I thought all words were lost that were not spent of thee,I thought each place was dark but where thy lights would be,And all ears worse than deaf that heard not out thy story.
(Sidney:Astrophel and Stella, Fifth Song. [In stanzasaabccb.] ab. 1580.)
See also Sidney's sonnet in alexandrines, p.272, below.
Of Albion's glorious isle the wonders whilst I write,The sundry varying soils, the pleasures infinite,(Where heat kills not the cold, nor cold expels the heat,The calms too mildly small, nor winds too roughly great,Nor night doth hinder day, nor day the night doth wrong,The summer not too short, the winter not too long)What help shall I invoke to aid my Muse the while?Thou Genius of the place (this most renowned isle)Which livedst long before the all-earth-drowning flood,Whilst yet the world did swarm with her gigantic brood,Go thou before me still thy circling shores about,And in this wand'ring maze help to conduct me out.
Of Albion's glorious isle the wonders whilst I write,The sundry varying soils, the pleasures infinite,(Where heat kills not the cold, nor cold expels the heat,The calms too mildly small, nor winds too roughly great,Nor night doth hinder day, nor day the night doth wrong,The summer not too short, the winter not too long)What help shall I invoke to aid my Muse the while?Thou Genius of the place (this most renowned isle)Which livedst long before the all-earth-drowning flood,Whilst yet the world did swarm with her gigantic brood,Go thou before me still thy circling shores about,And in this wand'ring maze help to conduct me out.
(Drayton:Polyolbion, ll. 1-12. 1613.)
This is by all odds the longest Modern English poem in alexandrines, and while the verse is often agreeable, it illustrates the unfitness of the measure—to English ears—for long, continuous poems.
The dew was falling fast, the stars began to blink;I heard a voice; it said, "Drink, pretty creature, drink!"And looking o'er the hedge, before me I espiedA snow-white mountain-lamb with a Maiden at its side.
The dew was falling fast, the stars began to blink;I heard a voice; it said, "Drink, pretty creature, drink!"And looking o'er the hedge, before me I espiedA snow-white mountain-lamb with a Maiden at its side.
(Wordsworth:The Pet Lamb. 1800.)
If hunger, proverbs say, allures the wolf from wood,Much more the bird must dare a dash at something good:Must snatch up, bear away in beak, the trifle-treasureTo wood and wild, and then—O how enjoy at leisure!Was never tree-built nest, you climbed and took, of bird,(Rare city-visitant, talked of, scarce seen or heard,)But, when you would dissect the structure, piece by piece,You found, enwreathed amid the country-product—fleeceAnd feather, thistle-fluffs and bearded windlestraws—Some shred of foreign silk, unravelling of gauze,Bit, maybe, of brocade, mid fur and blow-bell-down:Filched plainly from mankind, dear tribute paid by town,Which proved how oft the bird had plucked up heart of grace,Swooped down at waif and stray, made furtively our placePay tax and toll, then borne the booty to enrichHer paradise i' the waste; the how and why of which,That is the secret, there the mystery that stings!
If hunger, proverbs say, allures the wolf from wood,Much more the bird must dare a dash at something good:Must snatch up, bear away in beak, the trifle-treasureTo wood and wild, and then—O how enjoy at leisure!Was never tree-built nest, you climbed and took, of bird,(Rare city-visitant, talked of, scarce seen or heard,)But, when you would dissect the structure, piece by piece,You found, enwreathed amid the country-product—fleeceAnd feather, thistle-fluffs and bearded windlestraws—Some shred of foreign silk, unravelling of gauze,Bit, maybe, of brocade, mid fur and blow-bell-down:Filched plainly from mankind, dear tribute paid by town,Which proved how oft the bird had plucked up heart of grace,Swooped down at waif and stray, made furtively our placePay tax and toll, then borne the booty to enrichHer paradise i' the waste; the how and why of which,That is the secret, there the mystery that stings!
(Browning:Fifine at the Fair, ix. 1872.)
Browning has made of the alexandrine in this poem an almost new measure, hardly more like the alexandrine couplet of earlier days than the measure ofSordellois like the "heroic couplet" proper. In general, the modern use of the alexandrine is characterized by increased freedom in the placing of the cesura. It is also distinguished from the early French and Middle English forms by the fact that the cesura and the ending are commonly masculine.
By far the most frequent use of the alexandrine in English poetry is as a variant from the five-stress line. For instances of this, see the section on the Spenserian stanza, pp.102-108, above, and Corson's chapters on the Spenserian stanza and its influence, in hisPrimer of English Verse. In connection with Dryden's use of the alexandrine as a variant from the heroic couplet, Mr. Saintsbury makes some interesting observations on the measure: "The metre, though a well-known English critic has maltreated it of late, is a very fine one; and some of Dryden's own lines are unmatched examples of that 'energy divine' which has been attributed to him. In an essay on the alexandrine in English poetry, which yet remains to be written, and which would be not the least valuable of contributions to poetical criticism, this use of the verse would have to be considered, as well as its regular recurrent employment at the close of the Spenserian stanza, and its continuous use.... An examination of thePolyolbionand ofFifine at the Fair, side by side, would, I think, reveal capacities, somewhat unexpected even in this form of arrangement. But so far as the occasional alexandrine is concerned, it is not a hyperbole to say that a number, out of all proportion, of the best lines in English poetry may be found in the closing verses of the Spenserian stave as used by Spenser himself, by Shelley, and by the present Laureate, and in the occasionalalexandrines of Dryden. The only thing to be said against this latter use is, that it demands a very skilful ear and hand to adjust the cadence." (Life of Dryden, in Men of Letters Series, pp. 172, 173.)
The septenary, or seven-stress verse (sometimes called theseptenarius, from the Latin form of the word) was a familiar measure of mediæval Latin poetry. There it was more commonly trochaic than iambic, as in the famous drinking song of the Goliards:
"Meum est propositum in taberna mori:Vinum sit appositum morientis ori,Ut dicant cum venerint angelorum chori,'Deus sit propitius huic potatori!'"
"Meum est propositum in taberna mori:Vinum sit appositum morientis ori,Ut dicant cum venerint angelorum chori,'Deus sit propitius huic potatori!'"
(See the "Confessio Goliae," inLatin Poems attributed to Walter Mapes, ed. Wright, p. 71.)
Another form of the measure is illustrated by some verses quoted by Schipper:
"Fortunae rota volvitur, descendo minoratus,Alter in altum tollitur, nimis exaltatus."
"Fortunae rota volvitur, descendo minoratus,Alter in altum tollitur, nimis exaltatus."
In English, naturally enough, the measure always tended to be iambic. In both Latin and English there was considerable freedom as to the number of light syllables. It will be noticed that in the specimens just quoted from the Latin there is rime not only between the ends of the verses but between the syllables just preceding the cesura. Where this was the case there was a tendency toward the breaking up of the verse into a quatrain of verses in four and three stresses, rimingabab; such septenaries, indeed, were written at pleasure either in couplets or quatrains. We shall see the same phenomena in the English forms of the measure. But the seven-stress rhythm is not easily lost or mistaken, in whatever form it appears, and has a certain charm which at one time appealed very widely to metrical taste.
The earliest appearance of the septenary in English is in thePoema Morale, dated about 1170 by Zupitza, by others somewhat later. For a specimen of this, see p.127, above. Here there is only end-rime, and the individuality of the long line is well preserved. There is some freedom, however, as to the number of light syllables, and some variation between the iambic and trochaic rhythm.
Blessed beo thu, lavedi, ful of hovene blisse,Swete flur of parais, moder of miltenisse;Thu praye Jhesu Crist thi sone that he me i-wisse,Thare a londe al swo ihc beo, that he me ne i-misse.
Blessed beo thu, lavedi, ful of hovene blisse,Swete flur of parais, moder of miltenisse;Thu praye Jhesu Crist thi sone that he me i-wisse,Thare a londe al swo ihc beo, that he me ne i-misse.
(Hymn to the Virgin, in Mätzner'sAltenglische Sprachproben, vol. i. p. 54.)
Mätzner prints this poem in short lines of four and three stresses, the cesura making such a division natural enough. The next specimen is also frequently printed with the same division.
Þiss boc iss nemmnedd Orrmulum, forr þi þatt Orrm itt wrohhte,annd itt iss wrohht off quaþþrigan, off goddspellbokess fowwre,off quaþþrigan Amminadab, off Cristess goddspellbokess;forr Crist maȝȝ þurh Amminadab rihht full wel ben bitacnedd;forr Crist toc dæþ o rodetre all wiþþ hiss fulle wille;annd forrþi þatt Amminadab o latin spæche iss nemmneddo latin boc spontaneus annd onn ennglisshe spæcheþatt weppmann, þatt summ dede doþ wiþþ all hiss fulle wille,forþi maȝȝ Crist full wel ben þurrh Amminadab bitacnedd.
Þiss boc iss nemmnedd Orrmulum, forr þi þatt Orrm itt wrohhte,annd itt iss wrohht off quaþþrigan, off goddspellbokess fowwre,off quaþþrigan Amminadab, off Cristess goddspellbokess;forr Crist maȝȝ þurh Amminadab rihht full wel ben bitacnedd;forr Crist toc dæþ o rodetre all wiþþ hiss fulle wille;annd forrþi þatt Amminadab o latin spæche iss nemmneddo latin boc spontaneus annd onn ennglisshe spæcheþatt weppmann, þatt summ dede doþ wiþþ all hiss fulle wille,forþi maȝȝ Crist full wel ben þurrh Amminadab bitacnedd.
(The Ormulum, ll. 1-9. ab. 1200.)
In this specimen we have the septenary without rime, a rare form. Orm's septenaries are also the most regular of the Middle English period, preserving an almost painful accuracy throughout the 20,000 extant lines of the poem. In general the measure appears in this period in combination with alexandrines and other measures, and with much irregularity. Like the alexandrine, it was sometimes confused with the long four-stress line. In the well-known poem called "A Little Soth Sermun" the first line is an unquestionable septenary ("Herkneth alle gode men and stylle sitteth a-dun"), but presently we find verse of six stresses, and even short four-stress couplets.
Torne we aȝen in tour sawes, and speke we atte fromeof erld Olyver and his felawes, þat Sarazyns habbeþ ynome.þe Sarazyns prykaþ faste away, as harde as þay may hye,and ledeþ wiþ hymen þat riche pray, þe flour of chyvalrye.
Torne we aȝen in tour sawes, and speke we atte fromeof erld Olyver and his felawes, þat Sarazyns habbeþ ynome.þe Sarazyns prykaþ faste away, as harde as þay may hye,and ledeþ wiþ hymen þat riche pray, þe flour of chyvalrye.
(Sir Fyrumbras, ll. 1104-1107. In Zupitza'SAlt- und Mittelenglisches Übungsbuch, p. 107. ab. 1380.)
In this specimen—from a popular romance—we have the use of cesural rime as well as end-rime, just as in the Latin specimens cited above.
I tell of things done long ago,Of many things in few:And chiefly of this clime of oursThe accidents pursue.Thou high director of the same,Assist mine artless pen,To write the gests of Britons stout,And acts of English men.
I tell of things done long ago,Of many things in few:And chiefly of this clime of oursThe accidents pursue.Thou high director of the same,Assist mine artless pen,To write the gests of Britons stout,And acts of English men.
(William Warner:Albion's England, ll. 1-8. 1586.)
Here we have the measure in its "resolved" or divided form, printed as short four-stress and three-stress lines, although with rime only at the seventh stress. Compare the "common metre" of modern hymns:
"Must I be carried to the skiesOn flowery beds of ease,While others fought to win the prizeAnd sailed through bloody seas?"
"Must I be carried to the skiesOn flowery beds of ease,While others fought to win the prizeAnd sailed through bloody seas?"
As when about the silver moon, when air is free from wind,And stars shine clear, to whose sweet beams, high prospects, and the browsOf all steep hills and pinnacles, thrust up themselves for shows,And even the lowly valleys joy to glitter in their sight,When the unmeasured firmament bursts to disclose her light,And all the signs in heaven are seen, that glad the shepherd's heart;So many fires disclosed their beams, made by the Trojan part,Before the face of Ilion, and her bright turrets show'd.A thousand courts of guard kept fires, and every guard allow'dFifty stout men, by whom their horse eat oats and hard white corn,And all did wishfully expect the silver-throned morn.
As when about the silver moon, when air is free from wind,And stars shine clear, to whose sweet beams, high prospects, and the browsOf all steep hills and pinnacles, thrust up themselves for shows,And even the lowly valleys joy to glitter in their sight,When the unmeasured firmament bursts to disclose her light,And all the signs in heaven are seen, that glad the shepherd's heart;So many fires disclosed their beams, made by the Trojan part,Before the face of Ilion, and her bright turrets show'd.A thousand courts of guard kept fires, and every guard allow'dFifty stout men, by whom their horse eat oats and hard white corn,And all did wishfully expect the silver-throned morn.
(Chapman:Iliad, book VIII. 1610.)
Chapman's translation ofIliadis the longest modern English poem in septenaries. Professor Newman, however (whose translation gave rise to Matthew Arnold's lecturesOn Translating Homer), used the same measure unrimed and with feminine endings; thus,—
"He spake, and yelling, held afront the single-hoofed horses."
"He spake, and yelling, held afront the single-hoofed horses."
Arnold objected to Chapman's measure that "it has a jogging rapidity rather than a flowing rapidity, and a movement familiar rather than nobly easy."
Rejoice, oh, English hearts, rejoice! rejoice, oh, lovers dear!Rejoice, oh, city, town and country! rejoice, eke every shire!For now the fragrant flowers do spring and sprout in seemly sort,The little birds do sit and sing, the lambs do make fine sport;And now the birchen-tree doth bud, that makes the schoolboy cry;The morris rings, while hobby-horse doth foot it feateously;The lords and ladies now abroad, for their disport and play,Do kiss sometimes upon the grass, and sometimes in the hay.
Rejoice, oh, English hearts, rejoice! rejoice, oh, lovers dear!Rejoice, oh, city, town and country! rejoice, eke every shire!For now the fragrant flowers do spring and sprout in seemly sort,The little birds do sit and sing, the lambs do make fine sport;And now the birchen-tree doth bud, that makes the schoolboy cry;The morris rings, while hobby-horse doth foot it feateously;The lords and ladies now abroad, for their disport and play,Do kiss sometimes upon the grass, and sometimes in the hay.
(Beaumont:The Knight of the Burning Pestle, IV. v. ab. 1610.)
Here the septenary is introduced in the May-day song of Ralph, the London apprentice, doubtless because of its popularity for such unliterary verse.
In somer, when the shawes be sheyne,And leves be large and long,Hit is full mery in feyre foresteTo here the foulys song.
In somer, when the shawes be sheyne,And leves be large and long,Hit is full mery in feyre foresteTo here the foulys song.
(Ballad of Robin Hood and the Monk, in Gummere'sEnglish Ballads, p. 77.)
It is an ancient Mariner,And he stoppeth one of three."By thy long grey beard and glittering eye,Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?" ...... He prayeth best, who loveth bestAll things both great and small;For the dear God who loveth us,He made and loveth all.
It is an ancient Mariner,And he stoppeth one of three."By thy long grey beard and glittering eye,Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?" ...
... He prayeth best, who loveth bestAll things both great and small;For the dear God who loveth us,He made and loveth all.
(Coleridge:The Ancient Mariner, ll. 1-4, 614-617. 1798.)
These specimens show the ballad stanza, which is made of a sort of septenary resolved into short lines of four and three accents. It is often assumed that the measure was derived from the Latin septenary; but owing to the difficulty of supposing that a foreign metre should have been adopted for the most popular of all forms of poetry, some scholars prefer to think that the ballad stanza of this form is the same as that in which all lines have four accents (see specimen on p.157, above), the last accent of the second and fourth lines having dropped off by natural processes. On the ballad stanzas in general, see Gummere'sEnglish Ballads, Appendix II. p. 303. Compare with the present specimens the metre of Cowper'sJohn Gilpin.
That cross he now was fastening there, as the surest power and bestFor supplying all deficiencies, all wants of the rude nestIn which, from burning heat, or tempest driving far and wide,The innocent boy, else shelterless, his lonely head must hide.
That cross he now was fastening there, as the surest power and bestFor supplying all deficiencies, all wants of the rude nestIn which, from burning heat, or tempest driving far and wide,The innocent boy, else shelterless, his lonely head must hide.
(Wordsworth:The Norman Boy. 1842.)
This is a rare instance of the use of the long septenary in nineteenth-century poetry. Certainly in Wordsworth's verses the metrical effect cannot be called happy; the measure is made especially clumsy by the introduction of hypermetrical light syllables. In the succeeding specimen the same measure is used with feminine ending.
O poets, from a maniac's tongue was poured the deathless singing!O Christians, at your cross of hope a hopeless hand was clinging!O men, this man in brotherhood your weary paths beguiling,Groaned inly while he taught you peace, and died while ye were smiling!
O poets, from a maniac's tongue was poured the deathless singing!O Christians, at your cross of hope a hopeless hand was clinging!O men, this man in brotherhood your weary paths beguiling,Groaned inly while he taught you peace, and died while ye were smiling!
(Elizabeth Barrett Browning:Cowper's Grave. 1833.)
In the Elizabethan age the alexandrine and the septenary were each used chiefly in conjunction with the other, in alternation of six-stress and seven-stress verses. The name commonly applied to the combination is taken from Gascoigne'sNotes of Instruction(1575), where he says: "The commonest sort of verse which we use now adayes (viz. the long verse of twelve and fourtene sillables) I know not certainly howe to name it, unlesse I should say that it doth consist of Poulters measure, which giveth xii. for one dozen and xiiii. for another." (Arber's Reprint, p. 39.) It strikes the reader with surprise to find the measure thus spoken of as "the commonest sort of verse," but a glance at any of the early Elizabethan anthologies will show the justness of Gascoigne's words. Yet the measure, while exceedingly popular, seems to have been instinctively avoided by the best poets (after the days of Surrey and Sidney); hence it is unfamiliar to modern readers.
The use of alexandrines and septenaries together, we have seen, was common even in the Middle English period, but not in regular alternation. The Chronicle of Robert of Gloucester (about 1300) mingles both measures, but with alexandrines predominating. In some of the early Mystery Plays they are found in alternation; for example, where Jacob, in one of the Towneley plays, is relating his hunger to Esau:
"Meat or drink, save my life, or bread, I reck not what:If there be nothing else, some man give me a cat."
"Meat or drink, save my life, or bread, I reck not what:If there be nothing else, some man give me a cat."
See also the specimen fromThe Marriage of Wit and Science, p.256, above.
Schipper says that he does not know who first brought the two measures together in alternate use for lyrical poetry. Guest says that the Poulter's Measure came into fashion soon after 1500 (History of English Rhythms), but gives no examples so early. The history of the measure should be further investigated.
After the Elizabethan period the Poulter's Measure practically disappears from English poetry. A curious suggestion of it may be found in a little poem of Leigh Hunt's (Wealth and Womanhood), cited by Schipper, who calls the verse "Poulter's Measure in trochaics":
"Have you seen an heiress in her jewels mounted,Till her wealth and she seemed one, and she might be counted?"Laid in my quiet bed, in study as I were,I saw within my troubled head a heap of thoughts appear:And every thought did show so lively in mine eyes,That now I sighed, and then I smiled, as cause of thought doth rise.
"Have you seen an heiress in her jewels mounted,Till her wealth and she seemed one, and she might be counted?"
Laid in my quiet bed, in study as I were,I saw within my troubled head a heap of thoughts appear:And every thought did show so lively in mine eyes,That now I sighed, and then I smiled, as cause of thought doth rise.
(Earl of Surrey:How no Age is Content with his Own Estate, in Tottel'sSongs and Sonnets. Arber's Reprint, p. 30. Pub. 1557.)
Her forehead jacinth like, her cheeks of opal hue,Her twinkling eyes bedeck'd with pearl, her lips as sapphire blue;Her hair like crapal stone, her mouth O heavenly wide;Her skin like burnish'd gold, her hands like silver ore untried.
Her forehead jacinth like, her cheeks of opal hue,Her twinkling eyes bedeck'd with pearl, her lips as sapphire blue;Her hair like crapal stone, her mouth O heavenly wide;Her skin like burnish'd gold, her hands like silver ore untried.
(Sir Philip Sidney:Mopsa, in theArcadia. ab. 1580.)
The sonnet is an Italian verse-form, in fourteen five-stress lines, introduced into England at the time of the Italian literary influences of the sixteenth century. Almost from the first, the English sonnet has been divided into two classes: one based on more or less strict imitation of the structure of the Italian form, and variously called the Italian, the regular, or the legitimate sonnet; the other taking the Italian sonnet as the point of departure, but constructed according to more familiar English rime-schemes, and commonly called the Shaksperian or the English sonnet.
The origin of the sonnet in southern Europe is a matter of some disagreement. Some scholars trace it to thecanzonestrophe (e.g.Gaspary, in hisGeschichte der Italienischen Literatur), others to the combination of theottava rimawith a six-line stanza (Welti, in hisGeschichte des Sonettes in der deutschen Dichtung), others to Provençal and even German influence. (See Schipper, vol. ii. pp. 835 ff., and Lentzner'sDas Sonett und seine Gestaltung in der englischen Dichtung, p. 1.) It seems first to have been a recognized form in Italy in the latter part of the thirteenth century (see Tomlinson'sThe Sonnet: its Origin, Structure, and Place in Poetry); and was made glorious by Dante, Michael Angelo, Tasso, Ariosto, and—above all—Petrarch. On the different forms of the Italian sonnet, see Tomlinson's essay, just cited.
"The object of the regular or legitimate Italian sonnet," says Mr. Tomlinson, "is to express one, and only one, idea, mood, sentiment, or proposition, and this must be introduced ... in the first quatrain, and so far explained in the second, that this may end in a full point; while the office of the first tercet is to prepare the leading idea of the quatrains for the conclusion,which conclusion is to be perfectly carried out in the second tercet, so that it may contain the fundamental idea of the poem." (pp. 27, 28.)
The Italian form is always marked by the division into octave and sestet, although English usage has been very irregular in marking this division by a full pause. The octave is based on only two rimes (abbaabba); the sestet on either two or three, the most common arrangements beingcdecde, cdcdcd, cdedce, andcddcee.
With regard to the pause at the point of division Lentzner says: "It should not be a full pause, because this would produce the effect of a gap or breaking-off, ...—not like the speaker who has reached the end of what he has to say, but like one who reflects on what has already been said, and then takes fresh breath to complete his theme."[35]
Most critics prefer those forms of sestet which avoid a final riming couplet. This Mr. Courthope explains as follows: "The reason for the avoidance of the couplet in the second portion of the sonnet is, I think, plain. In the first eight lines the thought ascends to a climax; this part of the sonnet may be said to contain the premises of the poetical syllogism. In the last six lines the idea descends to a conclusion, and as the two divisions are of unequal length it is necessary that the lesser should be the more individualised. Hence while, in the first part, the expression of the thought is massed and condensed by reduplications of sound, and the general movement is limited by quatrains; in the second part the clauses are separated by the alternation of the rhymes, the movement is measured by tercets, and the whole weight of the rhetorical emphasis is thrown into the last line." (History of English Poetry, vol. ii. p. 91.)
The sonnet has remained, since its introduction into English poetry, a favorite form among poets and critics, but has never become genuinely popular. It is suited, of course, only for the expression of dignified and careful thinking; and the difficulty of giving it unity and confining the content to the precise limit of fourteen lines has made perfect success in the form a rare attainment. Furthermore, the complexity of the rime-scheme—the distance at which one rime responds to another—makes the appreciation of the form a matter of some delicacy, less suited tothe prevailingly simple taste of the English ear than to the more complex taste of the Italian.
The following specimens are classified only in the two principal groups of the Italian and the English form. The common test of the Italian form is that the rime-scheme shall separate the first eight lines from the rest, these eight lines ordinarily showing "inclusive rime" of theabbatype; the test of the English form is that the rime-scheme shall separate the first twelve lines from the last two, the twelve lines ordinarily showing alternate rime.
Schipper groups English sonnets in five classes: (1) the strict Italian form, with pause between octave and sestet; (2) the Surrey-Shakspere or English form; (3) the Spenserian form; (4) the Miltonic form, with correct rime-arrangement but general neglect of the bipartite structure; (5) the modern Italian or Wordsworthian form, following the regular rime-scheme in general, but often with a third or even a fourth rime in the octave, and treated as a single strophe. (Englische Metrik, vol. ii. p. 878.)[36]
In this group the student of the subject should note the detailed variations of the rime-scheme of the sestet, and the varying practice of the poets as to the division between octave and sestet.
In view of the connection of Petrarch's sonnets with Wyatt's introduction of the form into England, the first of them is reproduced as a typical specimen of the strict Italian form.
Voi ch' ascoltate in rime sparse il suonoDi quei sospiri ond' io nudriva 'l coreIn su 'l mio primo giovenile errore,Quand' era in parte altr' uom da quel ch' i' sono,Del vario stile, in ch' io piango e ragionoFra le vane speranze e 'l van dolore,Ove sia chi per prova intenda amoreSpero trovar pietà, non che perdono.Ma ben veggi' or sí come al popol tuttoFavola fui gran tempo, onde soventeDi me medesmo meco mi vergogno;E del mio vaneggiar vergogna è 'l frutto,E 'l pentirsi, e 'l conoscer chiaramenteChe quanto piace al mondo è breve sogno.
Voi ch' ascoltate in rime sparse il suonoDi quei sospiri ond' io nudriva 'l coreIn su 'l mio primo giovenile errore,Quand' era in parte altr' uom da quel ch' i' sono,Del vario stile, in ch' io piango e ragionoFra le vane speranze e 'l van dolore,Ove sia chi per prova intenda amoreSpero trovar pietà, non che perdono.Ma ben veggi' or sí come al popol tuttoFavola fui gran tempo, onde soventeDi me medesmo meco mi vergogno;E del mio vaneggiar vergogna è 'l frutto,E 'l pentirsi, e 'l conoscer chiaramenteChe quanto piace al mondo è breve sogno.
(Petrarca:Sonettoi.)
The longe love that in my thought I harber,And in my heart doth kepe his residence,Into my face preaseth with bold pretence,And there campeth, displaying his banner.She that me learns to love, and to suffer,And willes that my trust, and lustes negligenceBe reined by reason, shame, and reverence,With his hardinesse takes displeasure.Wherwith love to the hartes forest he fleeth,Leavyng his enterprise with paine and crye,And there him hideth and not appeareth.What may I do? when my maister feareth,But in the field with him to live and dye,For good is the life, endyng faithfully.
The longe love that in my thought I harber,And in my heart doth kepe his residence,Into my face preaseth with bold pretence,And there campeth, displaying his banner.She that me learns to love, and to suffer,And willes that my trust, and lustes negligenceBe reined by reason, shame, and reverence,With his hardinesse takes displeasure.Wherwith love to the hartes forest he fleeth,Leavyng his enterprise with paine and crye,And there him hideth and not appeareth.What may I do? when my maister feareth,But in the field with him to live and dye,For good is the life, endyng faithfully.
(Sir Thomas Wyatt:The lover hideth his desire, etc., in Tottel'sSongs and Sonnets, p. 33. pub. 1557.)
It was Wyatt who introduced the sonnet into England. Thirty-one of his sonnets were published in Tottel's Miscellany, of which about a third are said to be translations or paraphrases of Petrarch's. Wyatt followed, of course, the regular Italian structure, but used unhesitatingly the form of sestet with the concluding couplet (cddcee). On this point Mr. Courthope says: "Wyatt was evidently unaware of the secret principle underlying the extremely complex structure of the Italian sonnet; ... and being unfortunately misled by his admiration for theStrambottiof Serafino, which sum up the conclusion in a couplet, he endeavored to construct his sonnets on the same principle, thereby leading all sonnet writers before Milton on a wrong path." (History of English Poetry, vol. ii. p. 91.)
Loving in truth, and fain in verse my love to show,That she, dear she, might take some pleasure of my pain,—Pleasure might cause her read, reading might make her know,Knowledge might pity win, and pity grace obtain,—I sought fit words to paint the blackest face of woe;Studying inventions fine, her wits to entertain,Oft turning others' leaves, to see if thence would flowSome fresh and fruitful showers upon my sun-burn'd brain.But words came halting forth, wanting Invention's stay;Invention, Nature's child, fled step-dame Study's blows,And others' feet still seem'd but strangers in my way.Thus, great with child to speak, and helpless in my throes,Biting my truant pen, beating myself for spite,—'Fool,' said my Muse to me, 'Look in thy heart, and write.'
Loving in truth, and fain in verse my love to show,That she, dear she, might take some pleasure of my pain,—Pleasure might cause her read, reading might make her know,Knowledge might pity win, and pity grace obtain,—I sought fit words to paint the blackest face of woe;Studying inventions fine, her wits to entertain,Oft turning others' leaves, to see if thence would flowSome fresh and fruitful showers upon my sun-burn'd brain.But words came halting forth, wanting Invention's stay;Invention, Nature's child, fled step-dame Study's blows,And others' feet still seem'd but strangers in my way.Thus, great with child to speak, and helpless in my throes,Biting my truant pen, beating myself for spite,—'Fool,' said my Muse to me, 'Look in thy heart, and write.'
(Sir Philip Sidney:Astrophel and Stella, i. ab. 1580.)
With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the skies!How silently, and with how wan a face!What, may it be that e'en in heavenly placeThat busy archer his sharp arrows tries!Sure, if that long-with-love-acquainted eyesCan judge of love, thou feel'st a lover's case,I read it in thy looks; thy languish'd grace,To me, that feel the like, thy state descries.Then, e'en of fellowship, O Moon, tell me,Is constant love deem'd there but want of wit?Are beauties there as proud as here they be?Do they above love to be loved, and yetThose lovers scorn whom that love doth possess?Do they call virtue, there, ungratefulness?
With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the skies!How silently, and with how wan a face!What, may it be that e'en in heavenly placeThat busy archer his sharp arrows tries!Sure, if that long-with-love-acquainted eyesCan judge of love, thou feel'st a lover's case,I read it in thy looks; thy languish'd grace,To me, that feel the like, thy state descries.Then, e'en of fellowship, O Moon, tell me,Is constant love deem'd there but want of wit?Are beauties there as proud as here they be?Do they above love to be loved, and yetThose lovers scorn whom that love doth possess?Do they call virtue, there, ungratefulness?
(Sir Philip Sidney:Astrophel and Stella, xxxi. ab. 1580.)
Sidney's favorite form for the sonnet sestet was that shown in these specimens (cdcdee), a form that suggests the influence of the Surrey or English sonnet rather than the Italian. The first of the sonnets is of course exceptional in being written in alexandrines, but is among the finest in the sequence. See also Sidney's sonnet of the English type, p. 291, below.
TheAstrophel and Stella(containing 110 sonnets) is the earliest of the great sonnet-sequences or sonnet-cycles of English poetry, those of Spenser, Shakspere, Rossetti, and Mrs. Browning being later representatives. In the Elizabethan age the fashion of writing sonnets, and sonnet-sequences in particular, was at its height, especially in the last decade of the century (1590-1600). On this subject, see the Introduction to Professor Schelling'sElizabethan Lyrics, in the Athenæum Press Series, and Mr. Sidney Lee'sLife of Shakspere. Other noteworthy sonnet-sequences besides those of Sidney, Spenser, and Shakspere were Constable'sDiana, Daniel'sDelia, Lodge'sPhyllis, Watson'sTears of Fancy, Barnes'sParthenophil, Giles Fletcher'sLycia, and Drayton'sIdea,—all published in the years 1592-1594. A now forgotten poet by the name of Lok produced more than four hundred sonnets, proving himself an Elizabethan rival to Wordsworth.
I know that all beneath the moon decays,And what by mortals in this world is broughtIn time's great periods shall return to naught;That fairest states have fatal nights and days.I know how all the Muse's heavenly lays,With toil of spirit which are so dearly bought,As idle sounds, of few or none are sought;And that naught lighter is than airy praise.I know frail beauty like the purple flower,To which one morn oft birth and death affords;That love a jarring is of minds' accords,Where sense and will invassall reason's power.Know what I list, this all can not me move,But that, O me! I both must write and love.
I know that all beneath the moon decays,And what by mortals in this world is broughtIn time's great periods shall return to naught;That fairest states have fatal nights and days.I know how all the Muse's heavenly lays,With toil of spirit which are so dearly bought,As idle sounds, of few or none are sought;And that naught lighter is than airy praise.I know frail beauty like the purple flower,To which one morn oft birth and death affords;That love a jarring is of minds' accords,Where sense and will invassall reason's power.Know what I list, this all can not me move,But that, O me! I both must write and love.
(William Drummondof Hawthornden:Sense of the Fragility of All Things, etc. 1616.)
Drummond was a sonneteer of great skill, and used many original combinations of rime-schemes,—some forty in all,—yet usually approximating to the Italian type. Leigh Hunt says: "Drummond's sonnets, for the most part, are not only of the legitimate order, but they are the earliest in the language that breathe what may be called the habit of mind observable in the best Italian writers of sonnets; that is to say, a mixture of tenderness, elegance, love of country, seclusion, and conscious sweetness of verse." (Essay on the Sonnet, inThe Book of the Sonnet, vol. i. pp. 78, 79.)