We all do breathe upon this earthly ball,
Likewise one Heav'n encompasseth us all;
No banishment can be to us assigned
Who doth retain a true resolved mind;
Man in himself a little world doth bear,
His soul the monarch ever ruling there;
Wherever then his body doth remain
He is a king that in himself doth reign.

(Here all the characteristics of the eighteenth-century couplet may be found—the central cæsura or split, the balance of the two halves, the completion of sense in the couplet and almost in the line.)

(c) Fairfax (end couplets):

If fictious light I mix with Truth Divine
And fill these lines with other praise than Thine. (i. 2.)
We further seek what their offences be:
Guiltless I quit; guilty I set them free. (ii. 5.)
Thro' love the hazard of fierce war to prove,
Famous for arms, but famous more for love. (iii. 40.)
In fashions wayward, and in love unkind,
For Cupid deigns not wound a currish mind. (iv. 46.)

(Observe here the tendency, not merely to balance, but to positive antithesis, in the halves.)

(d) Beaumont, Sir John:

The relish of the Muse consists in rhyme:
One verse must meet another like a chime.
Our Saxon shortness hath peculiar grace
In choice of words fit for the ending-place,
Which leave impression in the mind as well
As closing sounds of some delightful bell.

(e) Sandys.

Compare the openings of Job I. and II.:

In Hus, a land which near the sun's uprise
And northern confines of Sabæa lies,
A great example of perfection reigned,
His name was Job, his soul with guilt unstained.

Again when all the radiant sons of light
Before His throne appeared, Whose only sight
Beatitude infused; the Inveterate Foe,
In fogs ascending from the depth below,
Profaned their blest assembly.

(f) Waller:

With the sweet sound of this harmonious lay
About the keel delighted dolphins play;
Too sure a sign of sea's ensuing rage
Which must anon this royal troop engage;
To whom soft sleep seems more secure and sweet
Within the town commanded by our fleet.

(g) Cowley (Davideis):

Lo! with pure hands thy heavenly fire to take,
My well-chang'd muse I a pure vestal make.
From Earth's vain joys and Love's soft witchcraft free,
I consecrate my Magdalene to thee.
Lo, this great work, a temple to thy praise
On polish'd pillars of strong verse I raise—
A temple where if thou vouchsafe to dwell
It Solomon's and Herod's shall excel.

(It should be observed on these that in Beaumont, Sandys I., Waller, and Cowley the separation of the couplets is strictly maintained; in Sandys II. not. In fact, this passage, but for the rhymes, has almost the run of Miltonic blank verse. Waller once approaches an initial trochee or "inversion of accent" in "With the." Here Cowley is pretty regular. But not far off may be found such a line as—

Themselves at first against themselves they excite;

where he must either have intended "they-ex-" to be elided or have meant an anapæstic ending of the kind so common in the dramatists his contemporaries. And he constantly uses (explicitly defending it) the Alexandrine, as in—

Like some | fair pine | o'erlook|ing all | th' igno|bler wood,

or—

Which runs, | and, as | it runs, | for ev|er shall | run on;

while he often employs trochees or spondees. He does not use the triplet in the Davideis, but does elsewhere, and, after Virgil, he sometimes indulges in half-lines.)

XXVII. Various Forms of Octosyllable-Heptasyllable (late Sixteenth and Seventeenth Century)

(a) Shakespeare (doubtfully?):

(1) King Pan|dion | he is | dead,
All thy | friends are | lapped in | lead.
(2) Let | the bird | of loud|est lay
On | the sole | Ara|bian tree.

(These distichs from the Passionate Pilgrim will illustrate the two different forms which the heptasyllable—really an octosyllable acephalous or catalectic—can take. The catalectic form (1) becomes trochaic; the acephalous (2), iambic. They can be interchanged, and either can group with the full iambic dimeter; but, individually, it would spoil (1) to scan it as iambic, (2) to scan it as trochaic. Yet on "accentual" scansion there is no difference; and some advocates of recent fancy "stress"-systems maintain that the rhythms are identical!)

(b) Shakespeare (almost certainly):

The cat | with eyne |of burn|ing coal
Now couch|es 'fore | the mou|se's hole,
And crick|ets sing | at the ov|en's mouth
As | the ¦ blith|er ¦ from | their ¦ drouth.

(In this famous and eminently Shakespearian passage from Pericles, the last line, a heptasyllable, goes perfectly with the rest, or octosyllables, either as acephalous or as catalectic, either as an iambic fellow or a trochaic substitute.)

(c) Shakespeare (certainly):

And we fairies, that do run
By the trìple Hecate's team,
From the presence of the sun
Follow¦ing | dark¦ness | like a dream,
Now are frolic: not a mouse
Shall disturb this hallowed house:
I am sent with broom before,
To sweep the dust behind the door.

(From A Midsummer Night's Dream. Same as last, except that the full octosyllable is only reached at the end, and perhaps in line 4. "Hecat[e]," as often, is dissyllabic.)

(d) Browne, W.:

Be ev|er fresh! | Let no | man dare
To spoil | thy fish, | make lock | or wear,
But on | thy mar|gent still | let dwell,
Those flowers | which have | the sweet|est smell,
And let | the dust | upon | thy strand
Become, | like Ta|gus, gold|en sand.
Let as | much good | betide | to thee
As thou | hast fa|vour showed | to me.

(Pure octosyllables. There is a catalectic line now and then elsewhere, but it is an evident exception.)

(e) Wither:

For | in ¦ her | a ¦ grace |there ¦ shines,
That o'er-daring thoughts confines,
Making worthless men despair
To be loved of one so fair.
Yea, the Destinies agree,
Some good judgments blind should be,
And not gain the power of knowing
Those rare beauties in her growing.

(Pure heptasyllables, taking either cadence, and, when extended, owing the extension mainly, if not wholly, to the double rhyme. The first line gives the alternative scansion; but Wither's run is, on the whole, trochaic, as Browne's is iambic.)

XXVIII. "Common," "Long," and "In Memoriam" Measure (Seventeenth Century)

(a) See above, § XXIII., for "Drink to me only."

(b) Donne(?), Ayton(?), Anon.(?), (C.M.):

Thou sent'st | me late | a heart | was crowned,
I took | it to | be thine;
But when | I saw | it had | a wound,
I knew | that heart | was mine.
A boun|ty of | a strange | conceit!
To send | mine own | to me,
And send | it in | a worse | estate
Than when | it came | to thee.

(A capital example of the possibility of rhetorical addition to the strict foot-system, as in line 2, "I took it || to be thine."[43] For "concayt" and "estate" cf. sup. § XXV. sub fin.)

(c) Herrick (C.M.):

Bid me | to live | and I | will live
Thy Pro|testant | to be;
Or bid | me love, | and I | will give
A lov|ing heart to | thee.

(Strongly flavoured, and greatly improved, by trochaic substitution in first foot.)

(d) Marvell (L.M.):

My love | is of | a birth | as rare
As 'tis | for ob|ject, strange | and high—
It was | begot|ten of | Despair
Upon | Impos|sibil|ity.

(e) Lord Herbert of Cherbury (In Memoriam metre):

For whose | affec|tion once | is shown,
No long|er can | the world | beguile;
Who sees | his pen|ance all | the while
He holds | a torch | to make | her known.

(Great regularity of feet; but already the "circular" motion which Tennyson was to perfect.)

XXIX. Improved Anapæstic Measures (Dryden, Anon., Prior)

(a) Dryden (1691?):

While Pan | and fair Sy|rinx are fled | from our shore,
The Gra|ces are ban|ished, and Love | is no more:
The soft | god of plea|sure that warmed | our desires
Has brok|en his bow, | and extin|guished his fires,
And vows | that himself | and his moth|er will mourn,
Till Pan | and fair Sy|rinx in tri|umph return.

(These early anapæsts, as noted, are very apt to begin with dissyllabic feet. But it was no rule: in this same piece, "The Beautiful Lady of the May," occurs the line:

All the nymphs | were in white | and the shep|herd in green.

(b) Anon. in Pills to Purge Melancholy (1719, but contents often much older):

Let us drink |and be mer|ry, sing, dance, | and rejoice,
With cla|ret and sher|ry, theor|bo and voice.
The change|able world | to our joys | is unjust,
All trea|sure's uncer|tain, then down | with your dust!
On fro|lics dispose | your pounds, shil|lings, and pence,
For we | shall be no|thing a hun|dred years hence.

(c) Prior (1696):

While with la|bour assid|uous due plea|sure I mix,
And in one | day atone | for the bus|iness of six,
In a lit|tle Dutch chaise | on a Sat|urday night,
On my left | hand my Hor|ace, a nymph | on my right.

(Observe here in "assid[u]ous" and "bus[i]ness" the liberty of combining adjacent vowels (-uous) and following familiar pronunciation (bizness) which this light verse especially authorises.

XXX. "Pindarics" (Seventeenth Century)

Dryden (complete stanza from "Anne Killigrew" ode):

VI

Bōrn tŏ | the spa|cious em|pire of | the Nine,
One would | have thought | she should | have been | content
To man|age well | that migh|ty gov|ernment;
But what | can young | ambi|tious souls | confine?
To the | next realm | she stretched | her sway,
For Pain|ture near | adjoin|ing lay,
A plen|teous prov|ince, and | allur|ing prey.
A cham|ber of | depen|dencies | was framed,
(As con|querors | will nev|er want | pretence,
When armed, | to just|ify | the offence,)
And the | whole fief, | in right | of po|etry, | she claimed.
The coun|try op|en lay | without | defence;
For po|ets fre|quent in|roads there | had made,
And per|fectly | could rep|resent
The shape, | the face, | with ev|ery lin|eament,
And all | the large | domains | which the | Dumb Sis|ter swayed;
All bowed | beneath | her gov|ernment,
Received | in tri|umph where|soe'er | she went.
Her pen|cil drew | whate'er | her soul | designed,
And oft | the hap|py draught | surpassed | the im|age in | her mind.
The syl|van scenes | of herds | and flocks,
And fruit|ful plains | and bar|ren rocks,
Of shal|low brooks | that flowed | so clear,
The bot|tom did | the top | appear;
Of deep|er too | and am|pler floods,
Which, as | in mir|rors, showed | the woods;
Of lof|ty trees, | with sa|cred shades,
And pèr|spectives of plea|sant glades,
Where nymphs | of bright|est form | appear,
And shag|gy sat|yrs stand|ing near,
Which them | at once | admire | and fear.
The ru|ins, too, | of some | majes|tic piece,
Boasting | the power | of an|cient Rome | or Greece,
Whose sta|tues, frie|zes, col|umns, bro|ken lie,
And, though | defaced, | the won|der of | the eye;
What na|ture, art, | bold fic|tion, e'er | durst frame,
Her form|ing hand | gave fea|ture to | the name.
So strange | a con|course ne'er | was seen | before,
But when | the peo|pled ark | the whole | crea|tion bore.

(88-91, heroics; 92, 93, octosyllables; 94-96, heroics; 97, octosyllable; 98, Alexandrine; 99, 100, heroic; 101, octosyllable; 102, heroic; 103, Alexandrine; 104, octosyllable; 105, 106, heroics; 107, fourteener; 108-118, continuous octosyllables; 119-125, continuous heroics capped and finished off by 126, Alexandrine. In 97, probably "th' offence.")

XXXI. The Heroic Couplet from Dryden to Crabbe

(a) Dryden (early non-dramatic):

Our setting sun, from his declining seat,
Shot beams of kindness on you, not of heat;
And, when his love was bounded in a few
That were unhappy, that they might be true,
Made you the favourite of his last sad times,
That is, a sufferer in his subjects' crimes.
Thus, those first favours you received, were sent,
Like heaven's rewards, in earthly punishment:
Yet fortune, conscious of your destiny,
E'en then took care to lay you softly by,
And wrapped your fate among her precious things,
Kept fresh to be unfolded with your king's.

(Note recurrent you and your employed like pauses to vary verse. Otherwise strictly "regular.")

(b) Dryden ("heroic"-dramatic type at best):

Fair though you are
As summer mornings, | and your eyes more bright
Than stars that twinkle ¦ in a winter's night;
Though you have eloquence to warm and move
Cold age ¦ and praying hermits ¦ into love;
Though Almahide with scorn ¦ rewards my care,—
Yet, | than to change, | 'tis nobler to despair.
My love's my soul; | and that from fate is free;
'Tis that unchanged and deathless part of me.

(Conquest of Granada II., III. iii.)

(Observe how the alternation of central pause, strongly (|) and weakly (¦) or hardly at all (no mark) emphasised, knits and shades the verse; and how, in the first line, there is positive enjambment. Yet there is still no trisyllabic substitution. This type is continued and perfected in the great satires and didactic pieces for argument and attack, and in the Fables for narrative. It admits, to relieve monotony, the Alexandrine (Hind and Panther, i. 23, 24))—

Their corps[e] to perish, but their kind to last,
So much | the death|less plant | the dy|ing fruit | surpassed;

the triplet (ibid. a little further)—

Can I believe eternal God could lie
Disguised in mortal mould and infancy,
That the great Maker of the world could die?

both combined (Palamon and Arcite, ii. 560-562)—

There saw I how the secret felon wrought,
And treason labouring in the traitor's thought,
And mid|wife time | the ri|pened plot | to mur|der brought;

and sometimes the fourteener (Medal, 94)—

Thou leapst o'er all eternal truths in thy Pindaric way.

(c) Passages from Garth, (1), and Pope, (2) and (3), to illustrate the mechanical character of the eighteenth-century couplet, the ease with which it can be shifted from decasyllabic to octosyllabic, and its peculiar construction of ridge-backed antithetic pause:

(1) With breathing fire his pitchy nostrils blow,
As from his sides he shakes the fleecy snow.
Around this hoary prince from wat'ry beds
His subject islands raise their verdant heads.
.   .   .   .   .   .   .
Eternal spring with smiling verdure here
Warms the mild air and crowns the youthful year.
.   .   .   .   .   .   .
The vine undressed her swelling clusters bears,
The labouring hind the mellow olive cheers.

(The Dispensary.)

(Read, omitting the interlined epithets, and you get perfectly fluent octosyllables.)

(2) First in these fields, I try the sylvan strains,
Nor blush to sport on Windsor's blissful plains.
Fair Thames, flow gently from thy sacred spring,
While on thy banks Sicilian Muses sing;
Let vernal airs thro' trembling osiers play
And Albion's cliffs resound the rural lay.

(Windsor Forest.)

Now this, in the same way, by the omission of some of the italicised gradus epithets, becomes—

First in these fields I try the strains,
Nor blush to sport on Windsor's plains.
Fair Thames, flow gently from thy spring,
While on thy banks [the] Muses sing;
Let vernal airs through osiers play
And Albion's cliffs resound the lay.

[Transcriber's Note: In the following example, first part of each line is angled up the page, and second part of each line is angled down.]

(3)        Not with more glories  in th' ethereal plain
The sun first rises  o'er the purpled main,
Than issuing forth  the rival of his beams
Launch'd on the bosom of  the silver Thames.
Fair nymphs and well-drest youths  around her shone,
But ev'ry eye was fix'd  on her alone.
On her white breast  a sparkling cross she wore,
Which Jews might kiss  and Infidels adore.
Her livelylooks  a sprightly mind disclose,
Quick as her eyes  and as unfixed 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 in her face  and you'll forget them all.

(The Rape of the Lock.)

Of course Pope,[44] in the close of the Dunciad and elsewhere, has passages of the utmost dignity; and the antithetic arrangement is good for satire. But perhaps the finest passages of this class of couplet—certainly the finest with the Dunciad close—are the following, from

(d) Johnson (Vanity of Human Wishes—end):

Where then shall Hope and Fear their objects find?
Must dull suspense corrupt the stagnant mind?
Must helpless man, in ignorance sedate,
Roll darkling down the torrent of his fate?
Must no dislike alarm, no wishes rise,
No cries invoke the mercies of the skies?
.   .   .   .   .   .   .
Yet, when the sense of sacred presence fires
And strong devotion to the skies aspires,
Pour forth thy favours for a healthful mind,
Obedient passions, and a will resigned;
For love which scarce collective man can fill;
For patience sovereign o'er transmuted ill;
For faith that, panting for a happier seat,
Counts death kind nature's signal of retreat.
These goods for man the laws of Heaven ordain,
These goods He grants who grants the power to gain;
With these celestial Wisdom calms the mind,
And makes the happiness she does not find.

and

(e) Crabbe ("Delay brings Danger"—end):

Early he rose, and looked with many a sigh
On the red light that filled the eastern sky;
Oft had he stood before, alert and gay,
To hail the glories of the new-born day:
But now dejected, languid, listless, low,
He saw the wind upon the water blow,
And the cold stream curled onward as the gale
From the pine hill blew harshly down the dale;
On the right side the youth a wood surveyed,
With all its dark intensity of shade;
Where the rough wind alone was heard to move,
In this, the pause of nature and of love,
When now the young are reared, and when the old,
Lost to the tie, grow negligent and cold—
Far to the left he saw the huts of men,
Half hid in mist, that hung upon the fen;
Before him swallows gathering for the sea,
Took their short flights and twittered on the lea;
And near the bean-sheaf stood, the harvest done,
And slowly blackened in the sickly sun;
All these were sad in nature, or they took
Sadness from him, the likeness of his look
And of his mind—he pondered for a while,
Then met his Fanny with a borrowed smile.

(Observe, besides the other points mentioned, that trisyllabic feet practically never occur in Garth, Pope, and Johnson—"wat'ry for watery," and words like "ether(ea)l," "celest(ia)l," "happ(ie)r," being intended to take the benefit of elision, though, as a matter of fact, they give that of extension. Only Crabbe, in "gathering," may perhaps not have meant "gath'ring.")

XXXII. Eighteenth-Century Blank Verse

(a) Thomson:

First the flaming red
Sprung vivid forth; the tawny orange next;
And next delicious yellow; by whose side
Fell the kind beams of all-refreshing green.
Then the pure blue that swells autumnal skies,
Etherial played, and then of sadder hue
Emerged the deepened indigo (as when
The heavy-skirted evening droops with frost),
While the last gleamings of refracted light
Died in the fainting violet away.

(This, from the poem on Newton, is Thomson at his very best in blank verse, or nearly so. He was, however, too apt to emphasise his phrases into full stops, producing what Johnson justly called "broken style," as thus:

On he walks
Graceful, and crows defiance. In the pond
The finely-chequered duck, before her train,
Rows garrulous. The stately sailing swan, etc.)

The trick was pushed to a pitch of absurdity by

(b) Glover:

Mindful of their charge,
The chiefs depart. Leonidas provides
His various armour. Agis close attends,
His best assistant. First a breastplate arms
The spacious chest;

and is somewhat noteworthy in Young and others. The reason probably was a sort of nervous fear lest, in the absence of rhyme, the versification should not be sufficiently marked. But at length the proper flow was recovered by

(c) Cowper:

Tīme māde | thee what | thou wast, | kīng ŏf | the woods,
And time hath made thee what thou art—a cave
For owls to roost in. Once thy spreading boughs
O'erhung the champaign; and the nu|mĕrŏus flōcks
That grazed it stood beneath that ample cope
Uncrowded, yet safe-sheltered from the storm.
No flock frequents thee now. Thou hast outlived
Thy popularity, and art become
(Unless verse rescue thee awhile) a thing
Forgotten, as the foliage of thy youth.

(Yardley Oak.)

(The spondee "Tīme māde" and trochee "kīng ŏf" are certainly intentional, whether consciously as such or not. The anapæst "-mĕrŏus flōcks" may not have been meant, for Cowper had not cleared his mind up about "elision," but is one in fact.)

XXXIII. The Regularised Pindaric Ode

Analysis of Gray's Bard (the second and third divisions coincide to the minutest degree):

I. i.
1."Ruin seize thee, ruthless King! 2.Confusion on thy banners wait; 3.Tho' fanned by Conquest's crimson wing 4.They mock the air with idle state. 5.Helm, nor hauberk's twisted mail, 6.Nor e'en thy virtues, Tyrant, shall avail 7.To save thy secret soul from nightly fears, 8.From Cambria's curse, from Cambria's tears!" 9.—Such were the sounds that o'er the crested pride 10.Of the first Edward scatter'd wild dismay, 11.As down the steep of Snowdon's shaggy side 12.He wound with toilsome march his long array:— 13.Stout Glo'ster stood aghast in speechless trance; 14."To arms!" cried Mortimer, and couch'd his quivering lance.
I. i. (Strophe)
I. ii.
1. On a rock, whose haughty brow 2. Frowns o'er old Conway's foaming flood, 3. Robed in the sable garb of woe 4. With haggard eyes the Poet stood 5. (Loose his beard and hoary hair 6. Stream'd like a meteor to the troubled air), 7. And with a master's hand and prophet's fire 8. Struck the deep sorrows of his lyre: 9. "Hark, how each giant-oak and desert-cave 10. Sighs to the torrent's awful voice beneath! 11. O'er thee, oh King! their hundred arms they wave, 12. Revenge on thee in hoarser murmurs breathe; 13. Vocal no more, since Cambria's fatal day, 14. To high-born Hoel's harp, or soft Llewellyn's lay.
I. ii. (Antistrophe)

Identical.

I. iii.
1. "Cold is Cadwallo's tongue, 2. That hush'd the stormy main: 3. Brave Urien sleeps upon his craggy bed: 4. Mountains, ye mourn in vain 5. Modred, whose magic song 6. Made hugh Plinlimmon bow his cloud-topt head. 7. On dreary Arvon's shore they lie 8. Smear'd with gore and ghastly pale: 9. Far, far aloof the affrighted ravens sail; 10. The famish'd eagle screams, and passes by. 11. Dear lost companions of my tuneful art, 12. Dear as the light that visits these sad eyes, 13.Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my heart, 14. Ye died amidst your dying country's cries— 15. No more I weep; They do not sleep; 16. On yonder cliffs, a griesly band, 17. I see them sit; They linger yet, 18. Avengers of their native land: 19. With me in dreadful harmony they join, 20. And weave with bloody hands the tissue of thy line.
I. iii. (Epode)
Rhyme scheme of Strophe
and Antistrophe.
Rhyme scheme of
Epode.
aa
bb
ac
bb
ca
cc
dd
de
ee
fd
ef
fg
gf
gg
o[45]
h
o[45]
h
i
i

XXXIV. Lighter Eighteenth-Century Lyric

(a) Gay:

The school|boy's desire | is a play-|day,
The school|master's joy | is to flog,
The milk|maid's delight | is on May-|day,
But mine | is on sweet | Molly Mog.

(Remarkable for the improvement, by the redundant syllable in the odd lines, on the plain anapæstic three-foot quatrain used later by Shenstone and Cowper, as well as for its leading up to the more obvious successes of Praed and Mr. Swinburne; v. inf. § XLIV.)

(b) Gray:

'Twas on a lofty vase's side
Where China's gayest art had dyed
The azure flowers that blow—
Demurest of the tabby kind,
The pensive Selima reclined,
Gazed on the lake below.

(Eleventh-century poets employed the old romance-six, or rime couée, almost more largely than any other metre for general lyrical purposes.)

(c) (D. Lewis?):

And when with envy Time, transport|ed,
Shall think to rob us of our joys,
You'll in your girls again be court|ed,
And I'll go wooing in my boys.

(Another instance of the refreshing and alterative effect of
redundance—in this case on the old "long measure." But even in its
stricter form the century managed "L.M." better than "C.M.," which,
till Blake, was almost always sing-song.)

XXXV. The Revival of Equivalence (Chatterton and Blake)

Percy's Reliques, however, taught it something better; though Percy's own imitations and those of others were often as described above. Yet soon we find in

(a) Chatterton, such adaptations of ballad metre as—