Chapter III Of the Several Sorts of Poems, or Composition in Verse
All our poems may be divided into two sorts: the first are those composed in couplets; the second those that are composed in stanzas, consisting of several verses.
Section I — Of the Poems Composed in Couplets
In the poems composed in couplets, the rhymes follow one another, and end at each couplet; that is to say, the second verse rhymes to the first, the fourth to the third, the sixth to the fifth, and in like manner to the end of the poem.
The verses employed in this sort of poems are either verses of ten syllables; as,
“Oh! could I flow like thee, and make thy Stream
My great Example, as it is my Theme;
Tho’ dark yet clear; tho’ gentle, yet not dull;
Strong without Rage; without o’erflowing full.”
—Denham.
Or of eight; as,
“O fairest Piece of well-form’d Earth,
Why urge you thus your haughty Birth?
The Pow’r, which you have o’er us lies,
Not in your Race, but in your Eyes.
Smile but on me, and you shall scorn
Henceforth to be of Princes born:
I can describe the shady Grove,
Where your lov’d Mother slept with Jove:
And yet excuse the faultless Dame,
Caught with her Spouse’s Shape and Name:
Thy matchless Form will credit bring,
To all the Wonders I shall sing.”
—Waller.
Or of seven; as,
“Phillis, why should we delay
Pleasures shorter than the Day?
Could we, which we never can,
Stretch our Lives beyond their Span,
Beauty like a Shadow flies,
And our Youth before us dies.
Or would Youth and Beauty stay,
Love has Wings, and will away.
Love has swifter Wings than Time.”
But the second verse of the couplet does not always contain a like number of syllables with the first; as,
“What shall I do to be for ever known,
And make the Age to come my own?
I shall like Beast and common People die,
Unless you write my Elegy.”
Section II — Of the Poems Composed in Stanzas; and First, of the Stanzas Consisting of Three and of Four Verses
In the poems composed of stanzas, each stanza contains a certain number of verses, consisting for the most part of a different number of syllables; and a poem that consists of several stanzas we generally call an ode; and this is lyric poetry.
But we must not forget to observe, that our ancient poets frequently made use of intermixed rhyme in their heroic poems, which they disposed into stanzas and cantos. Thus the “Troilus and Cressida” of Chaucer is composed in stanzas consisting of seven verses; the “Fairy Queen” of Spenser in stanzas of nine, &c.; and this they took from the Italians, whose heroic poems generally consist in stanzas of eight. But this is now wholly laid aside, and Davenant, who composed his “Gondibert” in stanzas of four verses in alternate rhyme, was the last that followed their example of intermingling rhymes in heroic poetry.
The stanzas employed in our poetry cannot consist of less than three, and are seldom of more than twelve verses, except in Pindaric odes, where the stanzas are different from one another in number of verses, as shall be shown.
But to treat of all the different stanzas that are employed or may be admitted in our poetry would be a labour no less tedious than useless; it being easy to demonstrate that they may be varied almost to an infinity, that would be different from one another, either in the number of the verses of each stanza, or in the number of the syllables of each verse; or, lastly, in the various intermingling of the rhyme. I shall therefore confine myself to mention only such as are most frequently used by the best of our modern poets. And first of the stanzas consisting of three verses.
In the stanzas of three verses, or triplets, the verses of each stanza rhyme to one another, and are either heroic; as,
“Nothing, thou elder Brother even to Shade! }
Thou hadst a Being ere the World was made, }
And (well fix’d) art alone of ending not afraid.”—Rochester. }
Or else they consist of eight syllables; as these of Waller, “Of a fair lady playing with a snake,”
“Strange that such Horror and such Grace }
Should dwell together in one Place, }
A Fairy’s Arm, an Angel’s Face.” }
Nor do the verses of the stanzas always contain a like number of syllables; for the first and third may have ten, the second but eight; as,
“Men without Love have oft so cunning grown, }
That something like it they have shown, }
But none who had it, ever seem’d t’have none.” }
“Love’s of a strangely open, simple Kind, }
Can no Arts or Disguises find; }
But thinks none sees it, ’cause itself is blind.”—Cowley. }
In the stanzas of four verses, the rhyme may be intermixed in two different manners; for either the first and third verse may rhyme to each other, and by consequence the second and fourth, and this is called alternate rhyme; or the first and fourth may rhyme, and by consequence the second and third.
But there are some poems, in stanzas of four verses, where the rhymes follow one another, and the verses differ in number of syllables only; as in Cowley’s “Hymn to the Light,” which begins thus—
“First-born of Chaos! who so fair didst come
From the old Negro’s darksome Womb:
Which, when it saw the lovely Child,
The melancholy Mass put on kind Looks and smil’d.”
But these stanzas are generally in alternate rhyme, and the verses either consist of ten syllables; as,
“She ne’er saw Courts, but Courts could have undone
With untaught Looks and an unpractis’d Heart:
Her nets the most prepar’d could never shun;
For Nature spread them in the scorn of Art.”
—Davenant.
Or of eight; as,
“Had Echo with so sweet a Grace,
Narcissus loud Complaint return’d:
Not for Reflection of his Face,
But of his Voice the Boy had burn’d.”
—Waller.
Or of ten and eight, that is to say, the first and third of ten, the second and fourth of eight; as,
“Love from Time’s Wings has stol’n the Feathers sure
He has, and put them to his own:
For Hours of late as long as Days endure,
And very Minutes Hours are grown.”
—Cowley.
Or of eight and six in the like manner; as,
“Then ask not Bodies doom’d to die,
To what Abode they go:
Since Knowledge is but Sorrow’s Spy,
’Tis better not to know.”
—Davenant.
Or of seven; as,
“Not the silver Doves that fly,
Yoak’d in Cythera’s Car;
Nor the Wings that lift so high,
And convey her Son so far,
Are so lovely sweet and fair,
Or do more ennoble Love;
Are so choicely match’d a Pair,
Or with more consent do move.”
—Waller.
Note.—That it is absolutely necessary that both the construction and sense should end with the stanza, and not fall into the beginning of the following one as it does in the last example, which is a fault wholly to be avoided.
Section III — Of the Stanzas of Six Verses
The stanzas of six verses are generally only one of the before-mentioned quadrans or stanzas of four verses, with two verses at the end, that rhyme to one another; as,
“A rural Judge dispos’d of Beauty’s Prize,
A simple Shepherd was preferr’d to Jove:
Down to the Mountains from the Partial Skies,
Came Juno, Pallas, and, the Queen of Love,
To plead for that which was so justly giv’n,
To the bright Carlisle of the Courts of Heaven.”
Where the four first verses are only a quadran, and consist of ten syllables, each in alternate rhyme.
The following stanza, in like manner, is composed of a quadran, whose verses consist of eight syllables, and to which two verses that rhyme to one another are added to the end; as,
“Hope waits upon the flow’ry Prime,
And Summer, tho’ it be less gay,
Yet is not look’d on as a Time
Of Declination and Decay;
For with a full Hand that does bring
All that was promis’d by the Spring.”
—Waller.
Sometimes the quadran ends the stanza, and the two lines of the same rhyme begin it; as,
“Here’s to thee, Dick; this whining Love despise;
Pledge me my Friend, and drink till thou be’st wise.
It sparkles brighter far than she;
’Tis pure and right without Deceit;
And such no Woman e’er can be:
No; they are all sophisticate.”
—Cowley.
Or as in these, where the first and last verse of the stanza consist of ten syllables,
“When Chance or cruel Bus’ness parts us two,
What do our Souls, I wonder, do?
While Sleep does our dull Bodies tie,
Methinks at Home they should not stay,
Content with Dreams, but boldly fly
Abroad, and meet each other half the way.”
—Cowley.
Or as in the following stanza, where the fourth and fifth verses rhyme to each other, and the third and sixth,
“While what I write I do not see,
I dare thus ev’n to you write Poetry.
Ah! foolish Muse! thou dost so high aspire,
And knows’t her judgment well,
How much it does thy Pow’r excel;
Yet dar’st be read by thy just Doom the Fire.”—Cowley.
(Written in Juice of Lemon.)
But in some of these stanzas the rhymes follow one another; as,
“Take heed, take heed, thou lovely Maid,
Nor be by glitt’ring Ills betray’d:
Thyself for Money! Oh! let no Man know
The Price of Beauty fall’n so low.
What Dangers ought’st thou not to dread,
When Love, that’s blind, is by blind Fortune led?”
—Cowley.
Lastly, some of these stanzas are composed of two triplets; as,
“The Lightning which tall Oaks oppose in vain,
To strike sometimes does not disdain
The humble Furzes of the Plain.
She being so high and I so low,
Her Pow’r by this does greater show,
Who at such Distance gives so sure a blow.”
—Cowley.
Section IV — Of the Stanzas of Eight Verses
I have already said that the Italians compose their heroic poems in stanzas of eight verses, where the rhyme is disposed as follows: The first, third, and fifth verses rhyme to one another, and the second, fourth, and sixth, the two last always rhyme to each other. Now our translators of their heroic poems have observed the same stanza and disposition of rhyme, of which take the following example from Fairfax’s translation of Tasso’s “Goffredo,” cant. 1, stan. 3,
“Thither thou know’st the World is best inclin’d,
Where luring Parnass most his Beams imparts;
And Truth, convey’d in verse of gentlest Kind,
To read sometimes will move the dullest Hearts;
So we, if Children young diseas’d we find,
Anoint with Sweets the Vessel’s foremost parts,
To make them take the Potions sharp we give;
They drink deceiv’d, and so deceiv’d they live.”
But our poets seldom employ this stanza in compositions of their own; where the following stanza of eight verses are most frequent,
“Some others may with Safety tell
The mod’rate Flames which in them dwell;
And either find some Med’cine there,
Or cure themselves ev’n by Despair:
My Love’s so great, that it might prove
Dang’rous to tell her that I love.
So tender is my Wound it cannot bear
Any Salute, tho’ of the kindest Air.”
—Cowley.
Where the rhymes follow one another, and the six first verses consist of eight syllables each, the two last of ten.
We have another sort of stanza of eight verses, where the fourth rhymes to the first, the third to the second, and the four last are two couplets; and where the first, fourth, sixth, and eighth are of ten syllables each, the four others but of eight; as,
“I’ve often wish’d to love: What shall I do?
Me still the cruel Boy does spare;
And I a double Task must bear,
First to woo him, and then a Mistress too.
Come at last, and strike for shame,
If thou art any Thing besides a Name;
I’ll think thee else no God to be,
But Poets rather Gods, who first created thee.”
—Cowley.
Another, when the two first and two last verses consist of ten syllables each, and rhyme to one another, the four other but of eight in alternate rhyme.
“Tho’ you be absent hence, I needs must say,
The Trees as beauteous are, and Flow’rs as gay,
As ever they were wont to be:
Nay the Birds rural Musick too
Is as melodious and free,
As if they sung to pleasure you.
I saw a Rose bud ope this Morn; I’ll swear
The blushing Morning open’d not more fair.”
—Cowley.
Another, where the four first verses are two couplets, the four last in alternate rhyme; as in Cowley’s “Ode of a Lady that made Posies for Rings,”
“I little thought the Time would ever be,
That I should Wit in dwarfish Posies see,
As all Words in few Letters live,
Thou to few Words all Sense dost give.
’Twas Nature taught you this rare Art,
In such a Little, Much to show;
Who all the Good she did impart
To womankind, epitomiz’d in you.
Section V — Of the Stanzas of Ten and Twelve Verses
The stanzas of ten and twelve verses are seldom employed in our poetry, it being very difficult to confine ourselves to a certain disposition of rhyme, and measure of verse, for so many lines together; for which reason those of four, six, and eight verses are the most frequent. However, we sometimes find some of ten and twelve; as in Cowley’s ode, which he calls “Verses Lost upon a Wager,” where the rhymes follow one another; but the verses differ in the number of syllables.
“As soon hereafter will I Wagers lay
’Gainst what an Oracle shall say;
Fool that I was to venture to deny
A Tongue so us’d to Victory;
A Tongue so blest by Nature and by Art,
That never yet it spoke, but gain’d a heart.
Tho’ what you said had not been true,
If spoke by any else but you;
Your speech will govern Destiny,
And Fate will change rather than you shall lye.”
—Cowley.
The same poet furnishes us with an example of a stanza of twelve verses in the ode he calls “The Prophet,” where the rhymes are observed in the same manner as in the former examples.
“Teach me to love! Go teach thy self Wit:
I chief Professor am of it.
Teach Craft to Scots, and Thrift to Jews,
Teach Boldness to the Stews.
In Tyrants Courts teach supple Flattery,
Teach Jesuits that have travell’d far too lie,
Teach fire to burn, and Winds to blow,
Teach restless Fountains how to flow,
Teach the dull Earth fixt to abide,
Teach Womankind Inconstancy and Pride,
See if your Diligence there will useful prove;
But prithee teach not me to love.”
Section VI — Of the Stanzas That Consist of an Odd
number of verses.
We have also stanzas that consist of odd numbers of verses, as of five, seven, nine, and eleven; in all which it of necessity follows that three verses of the stanza rhyme to one another, or that one of them be a blank verse.
In the stanzas of five verses the first and third may rhyme, and the second and two last; as,
“See not my Love how Time resumes
The Beauty which he lent these Flow’rs:
Tho’ none should taste of their Perfumes,
Yet they must live but some few Hours:
Time what we forbear devours.”
—Waller.
Which is only a stanza of four verses in alternate rhyme, to which a fifth verse is added that rhymes to the second and fourth.
See also an instance of a stanza of five verses, where the rhymes are intermixed in the manner as the former, but the first and third verses are composed but of four syllables each.
“Go, lovely Rose,
Tell her that wastes her time and me,
That now she knows,
When I resemble her to thee,
How sweet and fair she seems to be.”
—Waller.
In the following example the two first verses rhyme, and the three last.
“’Tis well, ’tis well with them, said I,
Whose short-liv’d Passions with themselves can die.
For none can be unhappy, who }
’Midst all his Ills a Time does know, }
Tho’ ne’er so long, when he shall not be so.”—Cowley. }
In this stanza the two first and the last, and the third and fourth rhyme to one another.
“It is enough, enough of Time and Pain
Hast thou consum’d in vain;
Leave, wretched Cowley, leave,
Thy self with Shadows to deceive.
Think that already lost which thou must never gain.”
—Cowley.
The stanzas of seven verses are frequent enough in our poetry, especially among the ancients, who composed many of their poems in this sort of stanza; see the example of one of them taken from Spenser in the “Ruins of Time,” where the first and third verses rhyme to one another, the second, fourth, and fifth, and the two last.
“But Fame with golden Wings aloft does fly
Above the Reach of ruinous Decay,
And with brave Plumes does beat the Azure Sky,
Admir’d of base-born Men from far away:
Then whoso will with virtuous Deeds assay,
To mount to Heaven, on Pegasus must ride,
And in sweet Poets verse be glorify’d.”
I have rather chosen to take notice of this stanza, because that poet and Chaucer have made use of it in many of their poems, though they have not been followed in it by any of the moderns, whose stanzas of seven verses are generally composed as follows.
Either the four first verses are a quadran in alternate rhyme, and the three last rhyme to one another; as,
“Now by my Love, the greatest Oath that is,
None loves you half so well as I;
I do not ask your Love for this;
But for Heav’ns sake believe me or I die.
No Servant sure but did deserve }
His Master should believe that he did serve; }
And I’ll ask no more Wages, tho’ I starve.” }
Or the four first two couplets, and the three last a triplet; as,
“Indeed I must confess
When Souls mix ’tis a Happiness,
But not compleat ’till Bodies too combine,
And closely as our Minds together join.
But half of Heav’n the Souls in Glory taste }
’Till by Love in Heav’n at last }
Their Bodies too are plac’d.” }
Or, on the contrary, the three first may rhyme, and the four last be in rhymes that follow one another; as,
“From Hate, Fear, Hope, Anger, and Envy free, }
And all the Passions else that be, }
In vain I boast of Liberty: }
In vain this State a Freedom call,
Since I have Love; and Love is all.
Sot that I am! who think it fit to brag
That I have no Disease besides the Plague.”
—Cowley.
Or the first may rhyme to the two last, the second to the fifth, and third and fourth to one another; as,
“In vain thou drowsy God I thee invoke,
For thou who dost from Fumes arise,
Thou who Man’s Soul dost overshade
With a thick Cloud by Vapours made,
Canst have no Pow’r to shut his Eyes,
Or Passage of his Spirits to choak,
Whose Flame’s so pure, that it sends up no Smoak.”
—Cowley.
Or lastly, the four first and two last may be in the following rhyme, and the fifth a blank verse; as,
“Thou robb’st my Days of Bus’ness and Delights,
Of Sleep thou robb’st my Nights.
Ah lovely Thief! what wilt thou do?
What, rob me of Heav’n too!
Thou e’en my Prayers dost from me steal,
And I with wild Idolatry
Begin to God, and end them all in thee.”
—Cowley.
The stanzas of nine and of eleven syllables are not so frequent as those of five and seven. Spenser has composed his “Fairy Queen” in stanzas of nine verses, where the first rhymes to the third, the second to the fourth, fifth and seventh, and the sixth to the last; but this stanza is very difficult to maintain, and the unlucky choice of it reduced him often to the necessity of making use of many exploded words; nor has he, I think, been followed in it by any of the moderns, whose six first verses of the stanzas that consist of nine are generally in rhymes that follow one another, and the three last a triplet; as,
“Beauty, Love’s Scene and Masquerade,
So well by well-plac’d Lights, and Distance made;
False Coin! with which th’ Imposter cheats us still,
The Stamp and Colour good, but Metal ill:
Which light or base we find, when we
Weigh by Enjoyment, and examine thee.
For tho’ thy Being be but Show,
’Tis chiefly Night which Men to thee allow,
And chuse t’ enjoy thee, when thou least art thou.”
—Cowley.
In the following example the like rhyme is to be observed, but the verses differ in measure from the former,
“Beneath this gloomy Shade,
By Nature only for my Sorrows made,
I’ll spend this Voice in Cries;
In Tears I’ll waste these Eyes,
By Love so vainly fed;
So Lust of old the Deluge punished.
Ah wretched Youth! said I;
Ah wretched Youth! twice did I sadly cry;
Ah wretched Youth! the Fields and Floods reply.”
—Cowley.
The stanzas consisting of eleven verses are yet less frequent than those of nine, and have nothing particular to be observed in them. Take an example of one of them, where the six first are three couplets, the three next a triplet, the two last a couplet; and where the fourth, the seventh, and the last verses are of ten syllables each, the others of eight,
“No, to what Purpose should I speak?
No, wretched Heart, swell till you break:
She cannot love me if she would,
And, to say Truth, ’twere Pity that she should.
No, to the Grave thy Sorrows bear,
As silent as they will be there;
Since that lov’d Hand this mortal Wound does give.
So handsomely the Thing contrive,
That she may guiltless of it live:
So perish, that her killing thee
May a Chance-Medley, and no Murder be.”
—Cowley.
Section VII — Of Pindaric Odes, and Poems in Blank Verse
The stanzas of Pindaric odes are neither confined to a certain number of verses, nor the verses to a certain number of syllables, nor the rhymes to a certain distance. Some stanzas contain fifty verses or more, others not above ten, and sometimes not so many; some verses fourteen, nay, sixteen syllables, others not above four: sometimes the rhymes follow one another for several couplets together, sometimes they are removed six verses from each other; and all this in the same stanza. Cowley was the first who introduced this sort of poetry into our language: nor can the nature of it be better described than as he himself has done it, in one of the stanzas of his ode upon liberty, which I will transcribe, not as an example, for none can properly be given where no rule can be prescribed; but to give an idea of the nature of this sort of poetry.
“If Life should a well-order’d Poem be,
In which he only hits the White,
Who joins true Profit with the best Delight;
The more heroick Strain let others take,
Mine the Pindarick Way I’ll make:
The Matter shall be grave, the Numbers loose and free;
It shall not keep one settled Pace to Time,
In the same Tune it shall not always Chime,
Nor shall each Day just to his Neighbour rhyme.
A thousand Liberties it shall dispense,
And yet shall manage all without Offence,
Or to the Sweetness of the Sound, or Greatness of the Sense,
Nor shall it ever from one Subject start,
Nor seek Transitions to depart;
Nor its set Way o’er Stiles and Bridges make,
Nor thro’ Lanes a compass take,
As if fear’d some Trespass to commit,
When the wide Air’s a Road for it.
So the Imperial Eagle does not stay
’Till the whole Carcass he devour,
That’s fall’n into his Pow’r,
As if his gen’rous Hunger understood,
That he can never want Plenty of Food;
He only sucks the tasteful Blood,
And to fresh Game flies cheerfully away,
To Kites and meaner Birds, he leaves the mangled Prey.”
This sort of poetry is employed in all manner of subjects; in pleasant, in grave, in amorous, in heroic, in philosophical, in moral, and in divine.
Blank verse is where the measure is exactly kept without rhyme. Shakespeare, to avoid the troublesome constraint of rhyme, was the first who invented it; our poets since him have made use of it in many of their tragedies and comedies; but the most celebrated poem in this kind of verse is Milton’s “Paradise Lost,” from the fifth book of which I have taken the following lines for an example of blank verse.
“These are thy glorious Works, Parent of Good!
Almighty! thine this universal Frame,
Thus wond’rous fair! thyself how wond’rous then!
Speak you, who best can tell, ye Sons of Light,
Angels! for you behold him, and with Songs,
And Choral Symphonies, Day without Night,
Circle his Throne rejoycing, you in Heaven.
On Earth, join all ye Creatures, to extol
Him first, him last, him midst, and without End!
Fairest of Stars, last in the Train of Night,
If better thou belong not to the Dawn,
Sure Pledge of Day, that crown’st the smiling Morn
With the bright Circlet, praise him in thy Sphere,
While Day arises, that sweet hour of Prime!
Thou Sun! of this great World both Eye and Soul,
Acknowledge him thy Creator, sound his Praise
In thy eternal Course, both when thou climb’st,
And when high Noon hast gain’d and when thou fall’st.
Moon! that now meet’st the Orient Sun, now fly’st
With the fix’d Stars, fix’d in their Orb that flies,
And ye five other wand’ring Fires! that move
In Mystick Dance, not without Song resound
His Praise, who out of Darkness call’d up Light.
Air! and ye Element! the eldest Birth
Of Nature’s Womb, that in Quaternion run
Perpetual Circle multiform and mix
And nourish all Things; let your ceaseless Change
Vary to our great Maker still new praise.
Ye Mists and Exhalations! that now rise
From Hill or standing Lake, dusky or gray,
Till the Sun paint your fleecy Skirts with gold,
In Honour to the World’s great Author rise;
Whether to deck with Clouds th’ uncolour’d Sky,
Or wet the thirsty Earth with falling show’rs,
Rising or falling still advance his Praise.
His Praise, ye Winds! that from our Quarters blow,
Breathe soft or loud; and wave your Tops, ye Pines!
With ev’ry Plant, in sign of Worship, wave.
Fountains! and ye that warble as you flow
Melodious Murmurs, warbling tune his Praise.
Join Voices all ye living Souls, ye Birds!
That singing, up to Heav’ns high Gate ascend,
Bear on your Wings, and in your Notes his Praise
Ye that in Waters glide! and ye that walk
The Earth! and stately tread, or lovely creep;
Witness if I be silent, Ev’n or Morn,
To Hill or Valley, Fountain, or fresh Shade,
Made Vocal by my Song, and taught his Praise.”
Thus I have given a short account of all the sorts of poems that are most used in our language. The acrostics, anagrams, &c., deserve not to be mentioned, and we may say of them what an ancient poet said long ago,
“Stultum est difficiles habere nugas,
Et stultus labor est ineptarum.”
FINIS
Footnotes
1. The derivation of this vulgarism is ancient, and not very dignified. “Sewer” and “shore,” meaning a drain, are, of course, the same word. It seems absurd, when we have so few vowels, to allow the distinctive sound of any of them to be lost, as it would be in this case, by the “o” and “u” becoming interchanged.
2. There is one decided advantage to the public which would accrue from the teaching of versification in schools. We should be saved the infliction of much nonsense, published under the name of poetry. For it is to be hoped that no man, who had been well-grounded in the mechanism of verse as a lad, would think of publishing in mature age what he would know were but school-exercises only, and not poems.
3. An instance of the contrary effect will be found in Tennyson’s line—
“Long lines of cliff breaking had left a chasm.”
Here the proper stress should be “breaki’ng,” according to scansion, but the accent thrown back on the first syllable gives a sudden sort of halt suggestive of the fall of the cliff.
4. Yet this is not all that is requisite to make music. Browning, I think I may say, never repeats the same sound; Tennyson frequently does; yet the latter’s verse has a better flow than the former’s. But this may be the result of other arts employed by the Laureate.
5. The cæsura in some cases falls at the end of the foot.
6. The name Pentameter (five-foot) is derived from the long syllables being incomplete feet, and counting together as one, so as to make five with the four dactyls. In anapæstics and iambics the metre is a dipod, i.e., it includes two feet, so that an iambic dimeter contains not two but four iambics.
7. He, however, seems to have been curiously ignorant of the ever-changing nature of English pronunciation. When Pope rhymed “line” and “join,” and “obey” and “tea,” it was the fashion to pronounce “join” as “jine” and “tea” as “tay.” Bysshe also finds fault with lines on points of accent, and condemns some in which “envy´,” “e´ssay,” “i´nsults,” and “e´xpert” occur, being apparently unacquainted with the difference of accent, which is admissible in each instance; and which, in some, has now superseded the style in fashion in his time.
8. Alliteration is a means, not an end. So long as alliterative verse pleases the ear, and yet does not betray to its reader the cause of the pleasant sensation, it is an admirable addition to the beauty of the verse. But as soon as it attracts the reader’s attention, as a tour de force, it is a blot, because it inflicts an injury on the poem by engaging the mind on the machinery instead of the matter. Instead of thinking how exquisite the poem is, we are wondering how often that clever contortionist, the poet, will fling his summersault of alliteration.
9. The spondee (two long syllables) can have no equivalent in accent, as it would need two accented syllables next to each other, which can only be used very exceptionally.
10. In the classic measures a long ( — ) is equivalent to two short ( ᴗ ) quantities, in the English feet it is the unaccented syllables (which we may rudely consider the shorts) which are capable of resolution. In spite of this difference, however, it seems most simple to keep the old terms, and use the old formulæ.
11. Various forms of stanza may be combined in one poem (though most usually in the ode only), provided regard be had to harmony and unity, so that the metres be not varied unsuitably or violently.
12. In couplets, the two lines, in triplets (with two exceptional forms) the three, rhyme together. In quatrains usually the alternate lines rhyme. As the lines of the stanza increase in number, the methods of rhyming of course vary.
13. See also Shelley’s “Queen Mab.”
14. This is the simple decasyllabic, the peculiarity being a division into stanzas of three lines.
15. It is a curious confirmation of my theory about the Cockney grounds for objection to this rhyme, that the author of a handbook who condemns “heart” and “art” as a rhyme, fails to see any fault in “dawn” and “morn,” or in “applaud” and “aboard” as rhymes. Of course, where the “h” is mute as in “hour,” it cannot rhyme with the simple vowel as in “our,” sound being the test of rhyme, and the ear the only judge. A “rhyme to the eye” is an impossibility.
16. This does not apply to the generous use of a rhyme at the half-line to mark the cæsural pause, as in this line—
“’Twas in the prime of summer time.”
Nor is there any objection—but rather the contrary—to the use of two rhyming words in a line, provided they are not identical with the final rhymes, as for example—
“That thrice the human span
Through gale and hail and fiery bolt
Had stood erect as man.”
17. I would, however, warn the beginner not to adopt the license of loose rhyming, which in Barham is lost sight of amid the brightness of the wit.
18. This and similar words cannot (see Chap. VI.) stand at the end of serious verse. In comic verse it is different.
19. I have reprinted in the Appendix so much of the introductory matter of “The Young Poet’s Guide” (on which this treatise is founded) as appears to me to contain hints that may be read with profit, even though it differs slightly from my views.
20. The absurdity of talking of perfect and imperfect rhymes is only equalled by that of speaking of good grammar and bad grammar. A shilling is a shilling—what the vulgar call “a bad shilling” is no shilling at all.—T.H.
21. In words ending in “y,” with an accent on the antipenultimate, there should be no attempt to make “single” rhymes.—T.H.
22. The union of sound alone constitutes rhyme. You do not match colours by the nose, or sounds by the eye.—T.H.
23. But decidedly ought not to be.—T.H.
24. Here we have the old blunder of taking the licenses of poets as laws for versifiers.—T.H.
25. Why “pëa”?—T.H.
26. But it falls at end of the word—the English cæsura never divides a word as the classic one does. In the second instance the “is” being enclitic is practically part of the word.—T.H.
27. Because he was writing words to an air.—T.H.
Indents are as per the original.
Variations in spelling hyphenation, punctuation and accentuation were maintained.