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Transcriber’s Note
The text includes a brief list of errata, prepared by the author or printer. The uncorrected text is shown here, but the change is annotated with mouseover text which containing the corrected value. The errata relating to p. 268 and the passages regarding Bulwer are themselves, it seems, errata. There are no such page references there.
The text includes a brief list of errata, prepared by the author or printer. The uncorrected text is shown here, but the change is annotated with mouseover text which contains the corrected value. The errors related to p. 268 and the sections about Bulwer are, it seems, also errors. There are no page references provided there.
There are also a number of printer’s errors that were detected and corrected, which are also annotated using mouseover text.
There are also several printer’s errors that were found and fixed, which are also noted with mouseover text.
This is a translation from a German original. Where there are apparent printing anomalies, an edition of the original was consulted and corrections made here. Cited materials were also occasionally consulted.
This is a translation from a German original. Where there are obvious printing issues, an edition of the original was referenced and corrections were made here. Cited materials were also sometimes checked.
Please consult the more detailed notes at the end of this text for more details about corrections and other observations.
Please check the more detailed notes at the end of this text for more information about corrections and other comments.
The characters used for metrical notation include a 'metrical breve', which is not widely supported. However, the Cardo TrueType font set has been found to provide good results. Also, there are numerous instances of multiple diacritical marks for most of the verse examples, which indicate rhythms and stresses. These may not display consistently for all letters in all browsers.
The characters used for metrical notation include a 'metrical breve', which isn't widely supported. However, the Cardo TrueType font set has been found to work well. Additionally, there are many cases of multiple diacritical marks for most of the verse examples, which show rhythms and stresses. These may not appear consistently for all letters in all browsers.
The cover image has been fabricated and is placed in the public domain.
The cover image has been created and is available in the public domain.
A HISTORY OF
ENGLISH VERSIFICATION
BY
BY
JAKOB SCHIPPER, Ph.D.
JAKOB SCHIPPER, Ph.D.
PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH PHILOLOGY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF VIENNA
MEMBER OF THE KAISERLICHE AKADEMIE DER WISSENSCHAFTEN, VIENNA
HON. D.LITT. OXON.; HON. LITT.D. CANTAB.
HON. LL.D. EDINBURGH AND ABERDEEN
HONORARY MEMBER OF THE MODERN LANGUAGE ASSOCIATION OF AMERICA
PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH PHILOLOGY AT THE UNIVERSITY OF VIENNA
MEMBER OF THE IMPERIAL ACADEMY OF SCIENCES, VIENNA
HONORARY D.LITT. OXON.; HONORARY LITT.D. CANTAB.
HONORARY LL.D. EDINBURGH AND ABERDEEN
HONORARY MEMBER OF THE MODERN LANGUAGE ASSOCIATION OF AMERICA
OXFORD
AT THE CLARENDON PRESS
1910
OXFORD AT THE CLARENDON PRESS 1910
HENRY FROWDE, M.A.
HENRY FROWDE, M.A.
PUBLISHER TO THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD
LONDON, EDINBURGH, NEW YORK
TORONTO AND MELBOURNE
PUBLISHER TO THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD
LONDON, EDINBURGH, NEW YORK
TORONTO AND MELBOURNE
PREFACE
It is now more than twenty years since a reviewer of the author’s Englische Metrik, in three volumes, expressed the opinion that ‘an English translation of it would do a service to English philology’. At that time, however, it seemed doubtful whether such a voluminous work, which probably would have interested only a comparatively small circle of English scholars, would have found a market. Even in Germany, although the work was favourably reviewed, and although at the time when it appeared great interest was felt in metrical research, the sale was comparatively slow.
It has been over twenty years since a reviewer of the author’s Englische Metrik, in three volumes, suggested that "an English translation of it would benefit English philology." However, at that time, it was uncertain if such a large work, which would likely appeal to only a relatively small group of English scholars, would actually sell. Even in Germany, although the work received positive reviews and there was significant interest in metrical research when it was published, the sales were relatively slow.
Much livelier, on the other hand, was the demand for an abridged edition of it which appeared under the title Grundriss der englischen Metrik (Wien, 1895). It was therefore found possible, several years after its publication, to make arrangements with the Delegates of the Clarendon Press for an English edition of this smaller book. Unfortunately, however, the printing of the manuscript, which was submitted to the supervision of the late Professor York Powell, was delayed, first by the illness and the untimely death of that eminent scholar, and afterwards by other circumstances which it is not necessary to mention here.
Much livelier, on the other hand, was the demand for a shortened version of it that came out titled Grundriss der englischen Metrik (Vienna, 1895). It was possible, several years after its release, to make arrangements with the Delegates of the Clarendon Press for an English edition of this smaller book. Unfortunately, though, the printing of the manuscript, which was overseen by the late Professor York Powell, was delayed first by his illness and untimely death, and later by other circumstances that don’t need to be mentioned here.
On the whole the English text of the present volume is a close rendering of the German book, except in the first few chapters, which have been somewhat more fully worked out. It may also be mentioned that one or two modern English poets who seemed to be unduly neglected in the German book have received a larger share of attention in the English edition. Some errors of the original work have, of course, also been corrected here.
On the whole, the English text of this volume closely follows the German book, except for the first few chapters, which have been developed a bit more. It’s also worth noting that one or two modern English poets who were unjustly overlooked in the German book have been given more attention in the English edition. Some errors from the original work have been corrected here as well.
The treatment of the subject in this handbook is the same as in the author’s larger work. The systematic arrangement of the different kinds of verse in Book I, and of the varieties of stanzas in Book II, will enable the reader easily to find the appropriate place for any new forms of verse or stanza that may come in his way, and will also facilitate the use of the large German work, to which frequent references are given, for the benefit of those students who may desire more detailed information.
The way this handbook covers the topic is the same as in the author’s larger work. The organized structure of different types of verse in Book I and the various stanzas in Book II make it easy for readers to locate any new forms of verse or stanzas they encounter. This structure will also help users navigate the extensive German work, which is referenced often for those students seeking more in-depth information.
From the Preface to the German edition of the present work some remarks on the accents, chiefly in Part II of Book I, may be repeated here in order to prevent misunderstanding.
From the Preface to the German edition of this work, some comments on the accents, mainly in Part II of Book I, may be repeated here to avoid any misunderstandings.
These accents on particular syllables in equal-measured rhythms are merely meant to facilitate the scansion of the verse according to the author’s view of its rhythmical movement, and to enable the student to apprehend more readily the precise meaning of the descriptions. They are by no means intended to dictate a schematic scansion to the reader, as it is obvious that the finer shades of the rhythm cannot be indicated by such a mode of accentuation. The safer and easier way undoubtedly would have been to put no accents at all; but this would have been less convenient for the reader, to whose own judgement it may be left in every case to be guided by the accents just so far as he may think proper.
These accents on certain syllables in regular rhythms are just meant to help with understanding the verse according to the author's take on its rhythmic flow, and to make it easier for the student to grasp the exact meaning of the descriptions. They are not meant to enforce a rigid scanning of the text for the reader, since it's clear that the subtle nuances of rhythm can't be captured by this type of accentuation. A safer and simpler approach would have been to use no accents at all; however, that would have been less convenient for the reader, who can use their own judgment and follow the accents as they see fit.
My sincerest thanks for their kind help and advice are due to Dr. Francis J. Curtis, now Professor of English Philology in the Mercantile Academy at Frankfort on the Main, and in a still higher degree to Dr. James Morison, of Shotover Cottage, Headington Quarry, Oxford, Examiner in Sanskrit and German, both of them formerly Lectors of English in the University of Vienna. I am under equally great obligations to Dr. Henry Bradley, to whose care the final revision of the MS. was entrusted by the Delegates of the Clarendon Press, and who also had the great kindness to superintend the printing of it. To him I am indebted for several useful suggestions regarding the typographical arrangement, and still more for his valuable help in regard to the style of the book. To the Delegates and the Secretary of the Clarendon Press I feel greatly obliged not only for undertaking the publication, but also for the patient consideration they have shown me during the slow progress of this work.
My sincere thanks for their kind help and advice go to Dr. Francis J. Curtis, now a Professor of English Philology at the Mercantile Academy in Frankfurt, and especially to Dr. James Morison of Shotover Cottage, Headington Quarry, Oxford, who is an Examiner in Sanskrit and German. Both of them were previously Lectors of English at the University of Vienna. I am also very grateful to Dr. Henry Bradley, who was entrusted by the Delegates of the Clarendon Press with the final revision of the manuscript and kindly oversaw the printing process. I owe him several helpful suggestions regarding the layout and even more for his valuable assistance with the book's style. I deeply appreciate the Delegates and the Secretary of the Clarendon Press, not only for taking on the publication but also for their patience with me throughout the slow progress of this work.
J. SCHIPPER.
J. Schipper.
Vienna, Feb. 6, 1910.
Vienna, Feb 6, 1910.
CONTENTS
BOOK I. THE LINE | |||
PART I. THE NATIVE METRE | |||
CHAPTER I | |||
GENERAL INTRODUCTION TO THE SCIENCE OF METRE AND THE STRUCTURE OF VERSE | |||
PAGE | |||
§ | 1. | Uses of the study of English metre | 1 |
2. | Object of the science of metre | 1 | |
3. | Definition of rhythm | 2 | |
4. | Distinction between prose and poetry | 3 | |
5. | Phonetic qualities of syllables | 4 | |
6. | Definition and use of the word accent | 4 | |
7. | Classification of accent | 5 | |
8. | Marks indicating position of accent | 8 | |
9. | Principles of versification and their terms | 9 | |
10. | Rhyme; its twofold purpose | 11 | |
11. | End-rhyme, or full-rhyme | 12 | |
12. | Vocalic assonance | 12 | |
13. | Alliteration | 13 | |
CHAPTER II | |||
THE ALLITERATIVE VERSE IN OLD ENGLISH | |||
§ | 14. | General remarks | 15 |
15. | Theories on the metrical form of the alliterative line | 15 | |
16. | The four-beat theory | 16 | |
17. | The two-beat theory | 19 | |
18. | Accentuation of Old English | 24 | |
19. | The secondary accent | 28 | |
20. | Division and metrical value of syllables | 29 | |
21. | Structure of the whole alliterative line | 30 | |
22. | The structure of the hemistich in the normal alliterative line | 31 | |
23. | Number of unaccented syllables of the thesis | 33 | |
24. | Order of the verse-members in the hemistich | 35 | |
Analysis of Verse Types. | |||
I. Hemistichs of four members. | |||
25. | Type A, with sub-types A 1–3 | 36 | |
26. | Type B, with sub-types B 1, 2 | 41 | |
27. | Type C, with sub-types C 1–3 | 42 | |
28. | Type D, with sub-types D 1–4 | 42 | |
29. | Type E, with sub-types E 1, 2 | 43 | |
II. Hemistichs of five members. | |||
30. | Type A*, with sub-types A* 1, 2; Type B*; Type C*; Type D*, with sub-types D* 1–3 | 44 | |
31. | Principles adopted in classification | 45 | |
32. | Combination of hemistichs by means of alliteration | 45 | |
Alliteration Principles. | |||
33. | Quality of the alliteration | 46 | |
34. | Position of the alliterative words | 48 | |
35. | Alliteration in relation to the parts of speech and to the order of words | 50 | |
36. | Arrangement and relationship of verse and sentence | 54 | |
The Extended Verse. | |||
37. | The lengthened line; alliteration | 55 | |
38. | The origin and structure of the lengthened verse | 57 | |
39. | Examples of commonly occurring forms of the lengthened hemistich | 59 | |
Stanza and Rhyme Formation. | |||
40. | Classification and examples | 62 | |
CHAPTER III | |||
THE FURTHER DEVELOPMENT OF THE FREER FORM OF THE ALLITERATIVE LINE IN LATE OLD ENGLISH AND EARLY MIDDLE ENGLISH | |||
A. Transitional Forms. | |||
§ | 41. | Increasing frequency of rhyme | 65 |
42. | Combination of alliteration and rhyme | 65 | |
B. The 'Proverbs of Alfred' and Layamon's 'Brut'. | |||
43. | Development of the progressive form of the alliterative line | 67 | |
44. | Nature and origin of the four-beat short-lined metre | 69 | |
45. | Number of stresses | 72 | |
46. | Analysis of verse-types | 74 | |
47. | Extended types | 75 | |
48. | Verse-forms rhythmically equivalent | 78 | |
C. The Progressive Form of the Alliterative Line, Rhymed Throughout. ‘King Horn.’ | |||
49. | Further development of the Layamon-verse | 79 | |
50. | The metre of King Horn and its affinity to the alliterative line | 82 | |
51. | Characteristics of King Horn and Layamon compared | 84 | |
CHAPTER IV | |||
THE ALLITERATIVE LINE IN ITS CONSERVATIVE FORM DURING THE FOURTEENTH AND FIFTEENTH CENTURIES | |||
A. the Alliterative Verse Without Rhyme. | |||
§ | 52. | Homilies and lives of the saints in rhythmical prose. Poems in regular alliterative verse | 85 |
53. | Use and treatment of words in alliterative verse | 87 | |
54. | Examples of alliteration | 88 | |
55. | Comparison of Middle and Old English alliterative verse | 90 | |
56. | The versification of Piers Plowman | 93 | |
57. | Modification of forms in the North of England and in the Midlands | 95 | |
B. the Alliterative Line Combined With Rhyme. | |||
58. | Growing influence of verse formed on foreign models | 97 | |
59. | Lyrical stanzas: four-beat and two-beat lines | 97 | |
60. | Forms of structure and versification | 99 | |
61. | Narrative verse | 101 | |
62. | Relation between rhyme and alliteration | 101 | |
63. | Features of alliterative-rhyming lines | 105 | |
64. | Structures of the cauda | 105 | |
65. | Two-beat lines in tail-rhyme stanzas | 106 | |
66. | Rhyming alliterative lines in Mystery Plays | 108 | |
67. | Alliteration in Moralities and Interludes | 109 | |
68. | Four-beat scansion of Bale’s verses | 110 | |
69. | Examples of the presence or absence of anacrusis in the two hemistichs | 110 | |
70. | Entire tail-rhyme stanzas | 113 | |
71. | Irregular tail-rhyme stanzas: Skeltonic verse | 114 | |
C. The Comeback of Four-beat Alliterative Verse in the Modern English Era. | |||
72. | Examples from Gascoigne, Wyatt, Spenser, &c. | 117 | |
73. | Attempted modern revival of the old four-beat alliterative line without rhyme | 119 | |
74. | Examples of the development of the four-beat alliterative line in reversed chronological order | 120 | |
75. | Summing-up of the evidence | 124 | |
PART II. FOREIGN METRES | |||
DIVISION I. THE FOREIGN METRES IN GENERAL | |||
CHAPTER V | |||
INTRODUCTION AND THE STRUCTURE OF VERSE | |||
§ | 76. | Influence of French and Low Latin metres | 126 |
77. | The different kinds of line | 127 | |
78. | The breaking up of long lines | 128 | |
79. | Heroic verse; tail-rhyme staves | 131 | |
80. | Different kinds of caesura | 131 | |
81. | Causes of variation in the structure of metres of equal measures | 133 | |
CHAPTER VI | |||
VERSE-RHYTHM AND THE STRUCTURE OF VERSE | |||
§ | 82. | Lines with and without diaeresis | 135 |
83. | Effect of diaeresis on modulation | 136 | |
84. | Suppression of the anacrusis | 137 | |
85. | Level stress, or ‘hovering accent’ | 138 | |
86. | Absence of thesis in the interior of a line | 139 | |
87. | Lengthening of a word by introduction of unaccented extra syllable | 141 | |
88. | Inversion of rhythm | 141 | |
89. | Disyllabic or polysyllabic thesis | 143 | |
90. | Epic caesura | 145 | |
91. | Double or feminine endings | 146 | |
92. | Enjambement, or run-on line | 147 | |
93. | Rhyme-breaking | 148 | |
94. | Alliteration | 149 | |
CHAPTER VII | |||
THE METRICAL TREATMENT OF SYLLABLES | |||
§ | 95. | General remarks on formative and inflexional syllables | 151 |
96. | Treatment of the unaccented e of words of three and four syllables in Middle English | 152 | |
97. | Special remarks on individual inflexional endings | 154 | |
98. | Treatment of -en in Middle and Modern English | 155 | |
99. | The comparative and superlative endings -er, -est | 156 | |
100. | The ending -est | 157 | |
101. | The endings -eth, -es (’s) | 158 | |
102. | The ending -ed (’d, t) | 158 | |
103. | The ending -ed (-od, -ud) of the 1st and 3rd pers. sing. pret. and plur. pret. of weak verbs | 159 | |
104. | The final -e in Middle English poetry | 160 | |
105. | Examples of the arbitrary use of final -e | 161 | |
106. | The final -e in later poetry of the North | 162 | |
107. | Formative endings of Romanic origin | 163 | |
108. | Contraction of words ordinarily pronounced in full | 165 | |
109. | Amalgamation of two syllables for metrical purposes | 166 | |
110. | Examples of slurring or contraction | 167 | |
111. | Other examples of contraction; apocopation | 168 | |
112. | Lengthening of words for metrical purposes | 169 | |
CHAPTER VIII | |||
WORD-ACCENT | |||
§ | 113. | General remarks | 171 |
I. Word stress in Middle English. | |||
A. Germanic words. | |||
114. | Alleged difference in degree of stress among inflexional endings containing e | 172 | |
115. | Accent in trisyllables and compounds | 174 | |
116. | Pronunciation of parathetic compounds | 175 | |
117. | Rhythmical treatment of trisyllables and words of four syllables | 175 | |
B. Romanic words. | |||
118. | Disyllabic words | 177 | |
119. | Trisyllabic words | 178 | |
120. | Words of four and five syllables | 179 | |
II. Word stress in Modern English. | |||
121. | Romanic accentuation still continued | 180 | |
122. | Disyllabic words | 181 | |
123. | Trisyllabic and polysyllabic words | 181 | |
124. | Parathetic compounds | 182 | |
DIVISION II. VERSE-FORMS COMMON TO THE MIDDLE AND MODERN ENGLISH PERIODS | |||
CHAPTER IX | |||
LINES OF EIGHT FEET, FOUR FEET, TWO FEET, AND ONE FOOT | |||
§ | 125. | The eight-foot line and its resolution into four-foot lines | 183 |
126. | Examples of the four-foot line | 183 | |
127. | Treatment of the caesura in four-foot verse | 185 | |
128. | Treatment of four-foot verse in North English and Scottish writings | 186 | |
129. | Its treatment in the Midlands and the South | 187 | |
130. | Combinations of four-foot and three-foot verse in Middle English | 188 | |
131–2. | Freer variety of this metre in Modern English | 188 | |
133. | Two-foot verse | 190 | |
134. | One-foot verse | 191 | |
CHAPTER X | |||
THE SEPTENARY, THE ALEXANDRINE, AND THE THREE-FOOT LINE | |||
§ | 135. | The septenary | 192 |
136. | Irregularity of structure of the septenary rhyming line as shown in the Moral Ode | 193 | |
137. | Regularity of the rhymeless septenary verse of the Ormulum | 193 | |
138. | The septenary with a masculine ending | 194 | |
139. | The septenary as employed in early lyrical poems and ballads | 195 | |
140. | Use of the septenary in Modern English | 196 | |
141–4. | Intermixture of septenaries, alexandrines, and four-beat lines | 197 | |
145, 146. | Origin of the ‘Poulter’s Measure’ | 202 | |
147. | The alexandrine: its first use | 204 | |
148. | Structure of the alexandrine in Mysteries and Moral Plays | 205 | |
149. | The alexandrine in Modern English | 205 | |
150. | The three-foot line | 206 | |
CHAPTER XI | |||
THE RHYMED FIVE-FOOT VERSE | |||
§ | 151. | Rhymed five-foot verse in Middle English | 209 |
152. | Sixteen types of five-foot verse | 210 | |
153. | Earliest specimens of this metre | 212 | |
154. | Chaucer’s five-foot verse; treatment of the caesura | 213 | |
155. | Masculine and feminine endings; rhythmic licences | 214 | |
156. | Gower’s five-foot verse; its decline | 215 | |
157. | Rhymed five-foot verse in Modern English | 216 | |
158. | Its use in narrative poetry and by Shakespeare | 217 | |
159. | The heroic verse of Dryden, Pope, and later writers | 218 | |
DIVISION III. VERSE-FORMS OCCURRING IN MODERN ENGLISH POETRY ONLY | |||
CHAPTER XII | |||
BLANK VERSE | |||
§ | 160. | The beginnings of Modern English poetry | 219 |
161. | Blank verse first adopted by the Earl of Surrey | 219 | |
162. | Characteristics of Surrey’s blank verse | 221 | |
163. | Further development of this metre in the drama | 222 | |
164. | The blank verse of Shakespeare | 223 | |
165. | Rhymed and unrhymed lines in Shakespeare’s plays | 224 | |
166. | Numerical proportion of masculine and feminine endings | 225 | |
167. | Numerical proportion of ‘weak’ and ‘light’ endings | 225 | |
168. | Proportion of unstopt or ‘run-on’ and ‘end-stopt’ lines | 226 | |
169. | Shakespeare’s use of the full syllabic forms of -est, -es, -eth, -ed | 227 | |
170. | Other rhythmical characteristics of Shakespeare’s plays | 228 | |
171. | Alexandrines and other metres occurring in combination with blank verse in Shakespeare | 230 | |
172. | Example of the metrical differences between the earlier and later periods of Shakespeare’s work | 232 | |
173. | The blank verse of Ben Jonson | 233 | |
174. | The blank verse of Fletcher | 234 | |
175. | Characteristics of Beaumont’s style and versification | 235 | |
176. | The blank verse of Massinger | 236 | |
177. | The blank verse of Milton | 237 | |
178. | The dramatic blank verse of the Restoration | 239 | |
179. | Blank verse of the eighteenth century | 240 | |
180. | Blank verse of the nineteenth century | 240 | |
CHAPTER XIII | |||
TROCHAIC METRES | |||
§ | 181. | General remarks; the eight-foot trochaic line | 242 |
182. | The seven-foot trochaic line | 243 | |
183. | The six-foot trochaic line | 244 | |
184. | The five-foot trochaic line | 245 | |
185. | The four-foot trochaic line | 246 | |
186. | The three-foot trochaic line | 246 | |
187. | The two-foot trochaic line | 247 | |
188. | The one-foot trochaic line | 247 | |
CHAPTER XIV | |||
IAMBIC-ANAPAESTIC AND TROCHAIC-DACTYLIC METRES | |||
§ | 189. | General remarks | 249 |
I. Iambic-anapestic Meters. | |||
190. | Eight-foot iambic-anapaestic verse | 250 | |
191. | Seven-foot iambic-anapaestic verse | 250 | |
192. | Six-foot iambic-anapaestic verse | 251 | |
193. | Five-foot iambic-anapaestic verse | 251 | |
194. | Four-foot iambic-anapaestic verse | 252 | |
195. | Three-foot iambic-anapaestic verse | 253 | |
196. | Two-foot iambic-anapaestic verse | 253 | |
197. | One-foot iambic-anapaestic verse | 254 | |
II. Trochaic-Dactylic Meters. | |||
198. | Eight-foot trochaic-dactylic verse | 254 | |
199. | Seven-foot trochaic-dactylic verse | 255 | |
200. | Six-foot trochaic-dactylic verse | 255 | |
201. | Five-foot trochaic-dactylic verse | 256 | |
202. | Four-foot trochaic-dactylic verse | 256 | |
203. | Three-foot trochaic-dactylic verse | 257 | |
204. | Two-foot dactylic or trochaic-dactylic verse | 257 | |
205. | One-foot dactylic verse | 258 | |
CHAPTER XV | |||
NON-STROPHIC, ANISOMETRICAL COMBINATIONS OF RHYMED VERSE | |||
§ | 206. | Varieties of this metre; Poulter’s measure | 259 |
207–8. | Other anisometrical combinations | 260 | |
CHAPTER XVI | |||
IMITATIONS OF CLASSICAL FORMS OF VERSE AND STANZA | |||
§ | 209. | The English hexameter | 262 |
210. | Structure of the hexameter | 263 | |
211. | Elegiac verse; the minor Asclepiad; the six-foot iambic line; Phaleuciac verse; Hendecasyllabics; rhymed Choriambics | 264 | |
212. | Classical stanzas:—the Sapphic metre; the Alcaic metre; Anacreontic stanzas | 266 | |
213. | Other imitations of classical verses and stanzas without rhyme | 267 | |
BOOK II THE STRUCTURE OF STANZAS | |||
PART I | |||
CHAPTER I. DEFINITIONS | |||
STANZA, RHYME, VARIETIES OF RHYME | |||
§ | 214. | Structure of the stanza | 270 |
215. | Influence of lyrical forms of Provence and of Northern France on Middle English poetry | 271 | |
216. | Classification of rhyme according to the number of the rhyming syllables: (1) the monosyllabic or masculine rhyme; (2) the disyllabic or feminine rhyme; (3) the trisyllabic, triple, or tumbling rhyme | 272 | |
217. | Classification according to the quality of the rhyming syllables: (1) the rich rhyme; (2) the identical rhyme; (3) the broken rhyme; (4) the double rhyme; (5) the extended rhyme; (6) the unaccented rhyme | 273 | |
218. | Classification according to the position of the rhyming syllables: (1) the sectional rhyme; (2) the inverse rhyme; (3) the Leonine rhyme or middle rhyme; (4) the interlaced rhyme; (5) the intermittent rhyme; (6) the enclosing rhyme; (7) the tail-rhyme | 276 | |
219. | Imperfect or ‘eye-rhymes’ | 278 | |
CHAPTER II | |||
THE RHYME AS A STRUCTURAL ELEMENT OF THE STANZA | |||
§ | 220. | Formation of the stanza in Middle English and Romanic poetry | 279 |
221. | Rhyme-linking or ‘concatenation’ in Middle English | 280 | |
222. | The refrain or burthen; the wheel and the bob-wheel | 280 | |
223. | Divisible and indivisible stanzas | 281 | |
224. | Bipartite equal-membered stanzas | 282 | |
225. | Bipartite unequal-membered stanzas | 282 | |
226. | Tripartite stanzas | 283 | |
227. | Specimens illustrating tripartition | 284 | |
228. | The envoi | 286 | |
229. | Real envois and concluding stanzas | 286 | |
PART II. STANZAS COMMON TO MIDDLE AND MODERN ENGLISH, AND OTHERS FORMED ON THE ANALOGY OF THESE | |||
CHAPTER III | |||
BIPARTITE EQUAL-MEMBERED STANZAS | |||
I. Isometric Stanzas. | |||
§ | 230. | Two-line stanzas | 288 |
231. | Four-line stanzas, consisting of couplets | 288 | |
232. | The double stanza (eight lines of the same structure) | 289 | |
233. | Stanzas of four isometrical lines with intermittent rhyme | 290 | |
234. | Stanzas of eight lines resulting from this stanza by doubling | 290 | |
235. | Stanzas developed from long-lined couplets by inserted rhyme | 291 | |
236. | Stanzas of eight lines resulting from the four-lined, cross-rhyming stanza and by other modes of doubling | 292 | |
237. | Other examples of doubling four-lined stanzas | 293 | |
238. | Six-lined isometrical stanzas | 294 | |
239. | Modifications of the six-lined stanza; twelve-lined and sixteen-lined stanzas | 295 | |
II. Asymmetrical Stanzas. | |||
240. | Chief species of the tail-rhyme stanza | 296 | |
241. | Enlargement of this stanza to twelve lines | 297 | |
242. | Further development of the tail-rhyme stanza | 298 | |
243. | Variant forms of enlarged eight and ten-lined tail-rhyme stanzas | 298 | |
244. | Tail-rhyme stanzas with principal verses shorter than tail-verses | 299 | |
245. | Other varieties of the tail-rhyme stanza | 300 | |
246. | Stanzas modelled on the tail-rhyme stanza | 300 | |
247. | Stanzas formed of two septenary verses | 301 | |
248. | Analogical developments from this type | 302 | |
249. | Eight-lined (doubled) forms of the different four-lined stanzas | 302 | |
250. | Other stanzas of similar structure | 303 | |
CHAPTER IV | |||
ONE-RHYMED INDIVISIBLE AND BIPARTITE UNEQUAL-MEMBERED STANZAS | |||
I. Single-rhyme and Indivisible Stanzas. | |||
§ | 251. | Three-lined stanzas of one rhyme | 305 |
252. | Four-lined stanzas of one rhyme | 306 | |
253. | Other stanzas connected with the above | 307 | |
II. Two-part Unequal-membered Isometrical Stanzas. | |||
254. | Four-lined stanzas | 308 | |
255. | Five-lined stanzas | 308 | |
256. | Four-lined stanzas of one rhyme extended by the addition of a couplet | 310 | |
III. Unequal Bipartite Anisometrical Stanzas. | |||
§ | 257–8. | Four-lined stanzas; Poulter’s measure and other stanzas | 311 |
259. | Five-lined stanzas | 314 | |
260. | Shortened tail-rhyme stanzas | 316 | |
261. | Six-lined stanzas | 317 | |
262. | Seven-lined stanzas | 319 | |
263. | Eight-, nine-, and ten-lined stanzas | 320 | |
264. | The bob-wheel stanzas in the Middle English period | 321 | |
265. | Bob-wheel stanzas of four-stressed rhyming verses | 322 | |
266. | Modern English bob-wheel stanzas | 323 | |
CHAPTER V | |||
TRIPARTITE STANZAS | |||
I. Isometric Stanzas. | |||
§ | 267. | Six-lined stanzas | 326 |
268. | Seven-lined stanzas; the Rhyme Royal stanza | 327 | |
269. | Eight-lined stanzas | 329 | |
270. | Nine-lined stanzas | 330 | |
271. | Ten-lined stanzas | 331 | |
272. | Eleven-, twelve-, and thirteen-lined stanzas | 332 | |
II. Asymmetrical Stanzas. | |||
273–4. | Six-lined stanzas | 333 | |
275. | Seven-lined stanzas | 335 | |
276–8. | Eight-lined stanzas | 337 | |
279. | Nine-lined stanzas | 339 | |
280–1. | Ten-lined stanzas | 341 | |
282. | Eleven-lined stanzas | 343 | |
283. | Twelve-lined stanzas | 344 | |
284. | Thirteen-lined stanzas | 345 | |
285. | Fourteen-lined stanzas | 346 | |
286. | Stanzas of fifteen to twenty lines | 347 | |
PART III. MODERN STANZAS AND METRES OF FIXED FORM ORIGINATING UNDER THE INFLUENCE OF THE RENASCENCE, OR INTRODUCED LATER | |||
CHAPTER VI | |||
STANZAS OF THREE AND MORE PARTS CONSISTING OF UNEQUAL PARTS ONLY | |||
§ | 287. | Introductory remark | 348 |
288. | Six-lined stanzas | 349 | |
289. | Seven-lined stanzas | 351 | |
290–2. | Eight-lined stanzas; the Italian ottava rima | 352 | |
293. | Nine-lined stanzas | 355 | |
294. | Ten-lined stanzas | 355 | |
295. | Eleven-lined stanzas | 356 | |
296. | Twelve-lined stanzas | 356 | |
CHAPTER VII | |||
THE SPENSERIAN STANZA AND THE FORMS DERIVED FROM IT | |||
§ | 297. | First used in the Faerie Queene | 358 |
298–300. | Imitations and analogous forms | 359 | |
CHAPTER VIII | |||
THE EPITHALAMIUM STANZA AND OTHER ODIC STANZAS | |||
§ | 301. | The Epithalamium stanza | 363 |
302. | Imitations of the Epithalamium stanza | 365 | |
303–5. | Pindaric Odes, regular and irregular | 366 | |
CHAPTER IX | |||
THE SONNET | |||
§ | 306. | Origin of the English sonnet | 371 |
307. | The Italian sonnet | 371 | |
308. | Structure of the Italian form illustrated by Watts-Dunton | 373 | |
309. | The first English sonnet-writers, Surrey and Wyatt | 373 | |
310. | Surrey’s transformation of the Italian sonnet, and the form adopted by Shakespeare | 374 | |
311. | Another form used by Spenser in Amoretti | 375 | |
312. | The form adopted by Milton | 375 | |
313. | Revival of sonnet writing in the latter half of the eighteenth century | 376 | |
314. | The sonnets of Wordsworth | 377 | |
315. | The sonnet in the nineteenth century | 379 | |
CHAPTER X | |||
OTHER ITALIAN AND FRENCH POETICAL FORMS OF A FIXED CHARACTER | |||
316–7. | The madrigal | 380 | |
318–9. | The terza-rima | 381 | |
320–1. | The sextain | 383 | |
322. | The virelay | 385 | |
323. | The roundel | 385 | |
324. | The rondeau | 387 | |
325. | The triolet | 388 | |
326. | The villanelle | 388 | |
327. | The ballade | 389 | |
328. | The Chant Royal | 390 |
LIST OF EDITIONS REFERRED TO
The quotations of Old English poetry are taken from Grein-Wülker, Bibliothek der Angelsächsischen Poesie, Strassburg, 1883–94. For the Middle English poets the editions used have been specified in the text. Most of the poets of the Modern English period down to the eighteenth century are quoted from the collection of R. Anderson, The Works of the British Poets, Edinburgh, 1795 (15 vols.), which is cited (under the title Poets) by volume and page. The remaining Modern English poets are quoted (except when some other edition is specified) from the editions mentioned in the following list.
The quotes from Old English poetry are sourced from Grein-Wülker, Bibliothek der Angelsächsischen Poesie, Strassburg, 1883–94. For the Middle English poets, the editions used are noted in the text. Most of the poets from the Modern English period up to the eighteenth century are quoted from R. Anderson's collection, The Works of the British Poets, Edinburgh, 1795 (15 vols.), which is referenced (under the title Poets) by volume and page. The other Modern English poets are quoted (unless a different edition is specified) from the editions listed below.
Arnold, Matthew. Poetical Works, London, Macmillan & Co., 1890. 8vo.
Arnold, Matthew. Poetical Works, London, Macmillan & Co., 1890. 8vo.
Bowles, W. L. Sonnets and other Poems. London, 1802–3. 2 vols. 8vo.
Bowles, W. L. Sonnets and other Poems. London, 1802–3. 2 vols. 8vo.
Browning, Elizabeth Barrett. Poetical Works. London, Chapman & Hall, 1866. 5 vols. 8vo.
Browning, Elizabeth Barrett. Poetical Works. London, Chapman & Hall, 1866. 5 vols. 8vo.
Browning, Robert. Poetical Works. London, Smith, Elder & Co., 1868. 6 vols. 8vo.
Browning, Robert. Poetical Works. London, Smith, Elder & Co., 1868. 6 vols. 8vo.
Burns, Robert. Complete Works, ed. Alexander Smith. London, Macmillan & Co., 1870. (Globe Edition.)
Burns, Robert. Complete Works, ed. Alexander Smith. London, Macmillan & Co., 1870. (Globe Edition.)
Byron, Lord. Poetical Works. London, H. Frowde, 1896. 8vo. (Oxford Edition.)
Byron, Lord. Poetical Works. London, H. Frowde, 1896. 8vo. (Oxford Edition.)
Campbell, Thomas. Poetical Works, ed. W.A. Hill. London, G. Bell & Sons, 1875.
Campbell, Thomas. Poetical Works, ed. W.A. Hill. London, G. Bell & Sons, 1875.
Coleridge, Samuel Taylor. Poems, ed. Derwent and Sara Coleridge. London, E. Moxon & Co., 1863.
Coleridge, Samuel Taylor. Poems, edited by Derwent and Sara Coleridge. London, E. Moxon & Co., 1863.
Cowper, William. Poetical Works, ed. W. Benham. London, Macmillan & Co., 1870. (Globe Edition.)
Cowper, William. Poetical Works, edited by W. Benham. London, Macmillan & Co., 1870. (Globe Edition.)
Dryden, John. Comedies, Tragedies, and Operas. London, 1701. fol.
Dryden, John. Comedies, Tragedies, and Operas. London, 1701. fol.
—— —— Poetical Works, ed. W. D. Christie. London, Macmillan & Co., 1870. (Globe Edition.)
—— —— Poetical Works, ed. W. D. Christie. London, Macmillan & Co., 1870. (Globe Edition.)
Fletcher, John. See Beaumont.
Fletcher, John. See __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__.
Goldsmith, Oliver. Miscellaneous Works, ed. Prof. Masson. London, Macmillan & Co., 1871. 8vo. (Globe Edition.)
Goldsmith, Oliver. Miscellaneous Works, ed. Prof. Masson. London, Macmillan & Co., 1871. 8vo. (Globe Edition.)
Hemans, Felicia. The Works of Mrs. Hemans, with a Memoir of her life by her sister. Edinburgh, W. Blackwood & Sons, 1839. 7 vols.
Hemans, Felicia. The Works of Mrs. Hemans, with a Memoir of her life by her sister. Edinburgh, W. Blackwood & Sons, 1839. 7 vols.
Herbert, George. Works, ed. R. A. Willmott. London, G. Routledge & Co., 1854. 8vo.
Herbert, George. Works, edited by R. A. Willmott. London, G. Routledge & Co., 1854. 8vo.
Hymns, Ancient and Modern, for Use in the Services of the Church. Revised and Enlarged Edition. London, n.d.
Hymns, Ancient and Modern, for Use in the Services of the Church. Revised and Expanded Edition. London, n.d.
Jonson, Ben. Chiefly cited from the edition in Poets iv. 532–618 (see the note prefixed to this list); less frequently (after Wilke, Metr. Unters. zu B. J., Halle, 1884) from the folio edition, London, 1816 (vol. i), or from the edition by Barry Cornwall, London, 1842. A few of the references are to the edition of F. Cunningham, London, J.C. Hotten, n.d. (3 vols.)
Jonson, Ben. Mainly referenced from the edition in Poets iv. 532–618 (see the note at the beginning of this list); less frequently (after Wilke, Metr. Unters. zu B. J., Halle, 1884) from the folio edition, London, 1816 (vol. i), or from the edition by Barry Cornwall, London, 1842. A few of the references are to the edition of F. Cunningham, London, J.C. Hotten, n.d. (3 vols.)
Keats, John. Poetical Works. London, F. Warne & Co. (Chandos Classics.)
Keats, John. Poetical Works. London, F. Warne & Co. (Chandos Classics.)
Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth. Poetical Works. Edinburgh, W. P. Nimmo. 8vo. (Crown Edition.)
Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth. Poetical Works. Edinburgh, W. P. Nimmo. 8vo. (Crown Edition.)
Lytton. See Bulwer Lytton.
Lytton. See __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__.
Marlowe, Christopher. Works, ed. A. Dyce. London, 1850. 3 vols. 8vo.
Marlowe, Christopher. Works, ed. A. Dyce. London, 1850. 3 vols. 8vo.
—— —— Works, ed. F. Cunningham. London, F. Warne & Co., 1870. 8vo.
—— —— Works, ed. F. Cunningham. London, F. Warne & Co., 1870. 8vo.
Massinger, Philip. Plays, ed. F. Cunningham. London, F. Warne & Co., 1870. 8vo.
Massinger, Philip. Plays, edited by F. Cunningham. London, F. Warne & Co., 1870. 8vo.
Milton, John. Poetical Works, ed. D. Masson. London, Macmillan & Co., 1874. 3 vols. 8vo.
Milton, John. Poetical Works, ed. D. Masson. London, Macmillan & Co., 1874. 3 vols. 8vo.
—— —— English Poems, ed. R.C. Browne. Second Edition. Oxford, Clarendon Press, 1872. 3 vols. 8vo. Moore, Thomas. Poetical Works. London, Longmans, 1867. 8vo.
—— —— English Poems, ed. R.C. Browne. Second Edition. Oxford, Clarendon Press, 1872. 3 vols. 8vo. Moore, Thomas. Poetical Works. London, Longmans, 1867. 8vo.
Morris, William. Love is Enough. Third Edition. London, Ellis & White, 1873. 8vo.
Morris, William. Love is Enough. 3rd Edition. London, Ellis & White, 1873. 8vo.
Norton, Thomas. See Gorboduc.
Norton, Thomas. See __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__.
Percy, Thomas. Reliques of Ancient Poetry. London, H. Washbourne, 1847. 3 vols. 8vo.
Percy, Thomas. Reliques of Ancient Poetry. London, H. Washbourne, 1847. 3 vols. 8vo.
Poe, Edgar Allan. Poetical Works. London, Sampson Low, Son & Co., 1858. 8vo.
Poe, Edgar Allan. Poetical Works. London, Sampson Low, Son & Co., 1858. 8vo.
Pope, Alexander. Poetical Works, ed. A. W. Ward. London, Macmillan & Co., 1870. 8vo. (Globe Edition.)
Pope, Alexander. Poetical Works, ed. A. W. Ward. London, Macmillan & Co., 1870. 8vo. (Globe Edition.)
Rossetti, Dante Gabriel. Poems. London, F. S. Ellis, 1870.
Rossetti, Dante Gabriel. Poems. London, F. S. Ellis, 1870.
Sackville, Thomas, and Norton, Thomas. See Gorboduc.
Sackville, Thomas, and Norton, Thomas. See Gorboduc.
Scott, Sir Walter. Poetical Works, ed. F. T. Palgrave. London, Macmillan & Co., 1869. 8vo. (Globe Edition.)
Scott, Sir Walter. Poetical Works, ed. F. T. Palgrave. London, Macmillan & Co., 1869. 8vo. (Globe Edition.)
Shakespeare, William. Works, ed. W. G. Clark and W. Aldis Wright. London and Cambridge, Macmillan & Co., 1866. 8vo. (Globe Edition.)
Shakespeare, William. Works, ed. W. G. Clark and W. Aldis Wright. London and Cambridge, Macmillan & Co., 1866. 8vo. (Globe Edition.)
Shelley, Percy Bysshe. Poetical Works. London, Chatto & Windus, 1873–1875. 3 vols. 8vo. (Golden Library.)
Shelley, Percy Bysshe. Poetical Works. London, Chatto & Windus, 1873–1875. 3 vols. 8vo. (Golden Library.)
Sidney, Sir Philip. Arcadia. London, 1633. fol.
Sidney, Sir Philip. Arcadia. London, 1633. fol.
—— —— Complete Poems, ed. A. B. Grosart. 1873. 2 vols.
—— —— Complete Poems, ed. A. B. Grosart. 1873. 2 vols.
Southey, Robert. Poetical Works. London, Longman, Orme, Brown, Green & Longmans, 1837. 10 vols. 8vo.
Southey, Robert. Poetical Works. London, Longman, Orme, Brown, Green & Longmans, 1837. 10 vols. 8vo.
Spenser, Edmund. Complete Works, ed. R. Morris. London, Macmillan & Co., 1869. 8vo. (Globe Edition.)
Spenser, Edmund. Complete Works, ed. R. Morris. London, Macmillan & Co., 1869. 8vo. (Globe Edition.)
Surrey, Henry Howard, Earl of. Poems. London, Bell & Daldy. 8vo. (Aldine Edition.)
Surrey, Henry Howard, Earl of. Poems. London, Bell & Daldy. 8vo. (Aldine Edition.)
Swinburne, Algernon Charles. Poems and Ballads. Third Edition. London, J. C. Hotten, 1868. 8vo.
Swinburne, Algernon Charles. Poems and Ballads. Third Edition. London, J. C. Hotten, 1868. 8vo.
—— —— Poems and Ballads, Second Series. Fourth Edition. London, Chatto & Windus, 1884. 8vo.
—— —— Poems and Ballads, Second Series. Fourth Edition. London, Chatto & Windus, 1884. 8vo.
—— —— A Century of Roundels. London, Chatto & Windus, 1883. 8vo.
—— —— A Century of Roundels. London, Chatto & Windus, 1883. 8vo.
—— —— A Midsummer Holiday and other Poems. London, Chatto & Windus, 1884. 8vo.
—— —— A Midsummer Holiday and other Poems. London, Chatto & Windus, 1884. 8vo.
Tennyson, Alfred. Works. London, Kegan Paul & Co., 1880. 8vo.
Tennyson, Alfred. Works. London, Kegan Paul & Co., 1880. 8vo.
Thackeray, William Makepeace. Ballads and The Rose and the Ring. London, Smith, Elder & Co., 1879. 8vo.
Thackeray, William Makepeace. Ballads and The Rose and the Ring. London, Smith, Elder & Co., 1879. 8vo.
Tusser, Thomas. Five Hundred Pointes of Good Husbandrie, ed. W. Payne and S.J. Herrtage, English Dialect Soc., 1878.
Tusser, Thomas. Five Hundred Pointes of Good Husbandrie, edited by W. Payne and S.J. Herrtage, English Dialect Society, 1878.
Wordsworth, William. Poetical Works, ed. W. Knight. Edinburgh, W. Paterson, 1886. 8 vols. 8vo.
Wordsworth, William. Poetical Works, edited by W. Knight. Edinburgh, W. Paterson, 1886. 8 volumes. 8vo.
Wyatt, Sir Thomas. Poetical Works. London, Bell & Daldy. (Aldine Edition.) The references marked N. are to vol. ii. of The Works of Surrey and Wyatt, ed. Nott, London, 1815. 2 vols. 4to.
Wyatt, Sir Thomas. Poetical Works. London, Bell & Daldy. (Aldine Edition.) The references marked N. are to vol. ii. of The Works of Surrey and Wyatt, ed. Nott, London, 1815. 2 vols. 4to.
ERRATA
P. 268. In the references to Bulwer, for p. 227 read p. 147; for p. 217 read p. 140; for p. 71 read p. 45; for p. 115 read p. 73.
P. 268. In the references to Bulwer, for p. 227 read p. 147; for p. 217 read p. 140; for p. 71 read p. 45; for p. 115 read p. 73.
P. 315, l. 14. For p. 123 read p. 78.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ For p. 123 see p. 78.
P. 340, l. 34. For p. 273 read p. 72.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ For p. 273 read p. 72.
P. 353, l. 15. For 89 read 5.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ For 89 read 5.
P. 381, l. 12. For ii. 137–40 read Poetical Works, London, 1891, pp. 330–32.
P. 381, l. 12. For ii. 137–40 read Poetical Works, London, 1891, pp. 330–32.
BOOK I. THE LINE
PART I. THE NATIVE METRE
CHAPTER I
GENERAL INTRODUCTION TO THE SCIENCE OF
METER AND THE STRUCTURE OF VERSE
§ 1. The study of English Metre is an integral part of English Philology. It is indispensable to the investigator of the history of the language, since it supplies sometimes the only (or at all events the surest) means of restoring the older pronunciation of word-stems, and of inflexional terminations. In many cases, indeed, the very existence of such terminations can be proved only by the ascertained requirements of metre. As an aid to the study of English literature in its aesthetic aspects the science of metre is no less important. It exhibits the gradual development of the artistic forms of poetical composition, explains the conditions under which they took their rise, and by formulating the laws of their structure affords valuable help in the textual criticism of poems which have been transmitted in a corrupt or imperfect condition.
§ 1. Studying English meter is a key part of English philology. It's essential for anyone investigating the history of the language, as it often provides the only (or definitely the most reliable) way to reconstruct the older pronunciation of word roots and grammatical endings. In many cases, the very presence of such endings can only be confirmed through the established requirements of meter. Additionally, meter is equally important for studying English literature in its artistic aspects. It shows the gradual evolution of poetic forms, explains the circumstances under which they emerged, and by outlining the rules of their structure, it offers valuable support for the textual criticism of poems that have been passed down in a flawed or incomplete state.
Poetry is one of the fine arts, and the fine arts admit of a division into Plastic and Rhythmic; the Plastic arts comprehending Sculpture, Architecture, and Painting, the Rhythmic arts, on the other hand, comprehending Dancing, Music, and Poetry. The chief points of difference between these classes are as follows. In the first place, the productions of the Plastic arts can be enjoyed by the beholder directly on their completion by the artist without the interposition of any help, while those of the Rhythmic arts demand, after the original creative artist has done his work, the services of a second or executive artist, who is usually termed the performer, in order that these productions may be fully enjoyed by the spectator or hearer. A piece of music requires a singer or player, a pantomime a dancer, and poetry a reciter or actor. In early times the function of executive artist was commonly discharged by the creative artist himself. In the second place, the Plastic arts have no concern with the relations of time; a work of painting or sculpture presents to the beholder an unchanging object or represents a single moment of action. The Rhythmic arts, on the other hand, are, in their very essence, connected with temporal succession. Dancing implies a succession of movements of the human body, Music a succession of inarticulate sounds, Poetry a succession of articulate sounds or words and syllables. The Plastic arts, therefore, may be called the arts of space and rest, and the Rhythmic arts the arts of time and movement. In this definition, it must be remembered, the intrinsic quality of the movements in each of these rhythmical arts is left out of account; in the case of poetry, for instance, it does not take into consideration the choice and position of the words, nor the thought expressed by them; it is restricted to the external characteristic which these arts have in common.
Poetry is one of the fine arts, which can be divided into Plastic and Rhythmic categories. The Plastic arts include Sculpture, Architecture, and Painting, while the Rhythmic arts consist of Dancing, Music, and Poetry. The main differences between these categories are as follows. First, the works of the Plastic arts can be appreciated directly by the viewer as soon as the artist completes them, without needing any additional help. In contrast, the works of the Rhythmic arts require the involvement of a second or performing artist, called the performer, for the audience or listener to fully enjoy them. A piece of music needs a singer or player, a pantomime requires a dancer, and poetry needs a reciter or actor. In ancient times, the performing role was typically fulfilled by the original artist themselves. Secondly, the Plastic arts are not related to time; a painting or sculpture presents a fixed object or represents a single moment in time. On the other hand, the Rhythmic arts are fundamentally linked to the concept of time. Dancing involves a series of movements by the human body, Music consists of a sequence of sounds, and Poetry is made up of a series of words and syllables. Therefore, the Plastic arts can be referred to as the arts of space and stillness, while the Rhythmic arts are the arts of time and movement. It's important to note that this definition does not consider the inherent quality of the movements in each of these rhythmical arts; for example, in poetry, it does not take into account the choice and arrangement of the words or the ideas they express; it only focuses on the external characteristics these arts share.
§ 3. This common characteristic, however, requires to be defined somewhat more precisely. It is not merely succession of movements, but succession of different kinds of movement in a definite and recurring order. In the dance, the measure, or succession and alternation of quick and slow movements in regular and fixed order, is the essential point. This is also the foundation of music and poetry. But another elementary principle enters into these two arts. They are not founded, as dancing is, upon mere silent movements, but on movements of audible sounds, whether inarticulate, as in music, or articulate, as in poetry. These sounds are not all on a level in respect of their audibility, but vary in intensity: broadly speaking, they may be said to be either loud or soft. There is, it is true, something analogous to this in the movements of the dance; the steps differ in degree of intensity or force. Dancing indeed may be looked upon as the typical form and source of all rhythmic movement. Scherer brings this point out very well.[1] He says: ‘Rhythm is produced by regular movements of the body. Walking becomes dancing by a definite relation of the steps to one another—of long and short in time or fast and slow in motion. A regular rhythm has never been reached by races among which irregular jumping, instead of walking, has been the original form of the dance. Each pair of steps forms a unity, and a repetition begins with the third step. This unity is the bar or measure. The physical difference between the comparative strength of the right foot and the weakness of the left foot is the origin of the distinction between elevation and depression, i.e. between relatively loud and soft, the “good” and the “bad” part of the measure.’
§ 3. This common characteristic needs to be defined a bit more precisely. It’s not just a sequence of movements, but a series of different types of movements that follow a specific and recurring order. In dance, the rhythm, or the combination and alternation of fast and slow movements in a regular and fixed order, is the key point. This also serves as the foundation of music and poetry. However, there’s another fundamental principle involved in these two arts. They aren’t based on mere silent movements, like dance is, but on movements that produce sounds, whether those are unstructured, like in music, or structured, like in poetry. These sounds don’t all have the same level of audibility; they vary in intensity: generally speaking, they can be classified as either loud or soft. It’s true that there’s something similar in dance movements; the steps vary in intensity or force. Indeed, dancing can be seen as the typical form and source of all rhythmic movement. Scherer highlights this point very well. He says: ‘Rhythm is created by regular movements of the body. Walking becomes dancing when there’s a specific relationship between the steps—of long and short in time or fast and slow in motion. A consistent rhythm has never developed in cultures where irregular jumping, instead of walking, has been the original form of dance. Each pair of steps creates a unity, and the repetition starts with the third step. This unity is the bar or measure. The physical difference between the strength of the right foot and the weakness of the left foot is what establishes the distinction between elevation and depression, i.e., between relatively loud and soft, the “good” and the “bad” part of the measure.’
Westphal[2] gives a similar explanation: ‘That the stamp of the foot or the clap of the hands in beating time coincides with the strong part of the measure, and the raising of the foot or hand coincides with the weak part of it, originates, without doubt, in the ancient orchestic.’ At the strong part of the bar the dancer puts his foot to the ground and raises it at the weak part. This is the meaning and original Greek usage of the terms ‘arsis’ and ‘thesis’, which are nowadays used in an exactly opposite sense. Arsis in its ancient signification meant the raising of the foot or hand, to indicate the weak part of the measure; thesis was the putting down of the foot, or the stamp, to mark the strong part of the measure. Now, however, it is almost the universal custom to use arsis to indicate the syllable uttered with a raised or loud voice, and thesis to indicate the syllable uttered with lower or soft voice. From the practice of beating time the term ictus is also borrowed; it is commonly used to designate the increase of voice which occurs at the strong, or so-called rhythmical accent.
Westphal[2] provides a similar explanation: “The stamp of the foot or the clap of the hands in keeping time coincides with the strong part of the measure, while raising the foot or hand coincides with the weak part. This definitely comes from ancient dance traditions.” At the strong point of the bar, the dancer puts their foot down and lifts it at the weak point. This is the meaning and original Greek usage of the terms ‘arsis’ and ‘thesis’, which are now used in exactly the opposite way. Arsis in its ancient meaning referred to the lifting of the foot or hand to indicate the weak part of the measure; thesis was the grounding of the foot or the stamp to mark the strong part of the measure. However, today it’s almost universally accepted to use arsis to refer to the syllable pronounced with a raised or loud voice, and thesis to denote the syllable pronounced with a softer or lower voice. The term ictus is also derived from the practice of keeping time; it's commonly used to refer to the increase in voice that happens at the strong, or so-called rhythmic accent.
All rhythm therefore in our dancing, poetry, and music, comes to us from ancient times, and is of the same nature in these three arts: it is regular order in the succession of different kinds of motion.
All rhythm in our dancing, poetry, and music comes from ancient times and is fundamentally the same in these three arts: it's a regular arrangement in the sequence of different types of movement.
Even in prose a certain influence of rhythmical order may be sometimes observable, and where this is marked we have what is called rhythmical or artistic prose. But in such prose the rhythmic order must be so loosely constructed that it does not at once obtrude itself on the ear, or recur regularly as it does in poetry. Wherever we have intelligible words following each other in groups marked by a rhythmical order which is at once recognizable as intentionally chosen with a view to symmetry, there we may be said to have poetry, at least on its formal side. Poetical rhythm may accordingly be defined as a special symmetry, easily recognizable as such, in the succession of syllables of differing phonetic quality, which convey a sense, and are so arranged as to be uttered in divisions of time which are symmetrical in their relation to one another.
Even in prose, you can sometimes notice a certain influence of rhythmic structure, and where this is prominent, we have what’s called rhythmic or artistic prose. However, in such prose, the rhythmic structure needs to be constructed loosely enough that it doesn't immediately stand out to the ear or repeat regularly like it does in poetry. Whenever we have clear words following each other in groups marked by a rhythmic structure that is recognizable as intentionally chosen for symmetry, we can consider it poetry, at least in its formal aspect. Thus, poetic rhythm can be defined as a specific symmetry, easily identifiable as such, in the sequence of syllables with different phonetic qualities, which convey meaning and are arranged to be spoken in time divisions that are symmetrical in relation to each other.
§ 5. At this point we have to note that there are two kinds of phonetic difference between syllables, either of which may serve as a foundation for rhythm. In the first place, syllables differ in respect of their quantity; they are either ‘long’ or ‘short’, according to the length of time required to pronounce them. In the second place, they differ in respect of the greater or less degree of force or stress with which they are uttered; or, as it is commonly expressed, in respect of their accent.
§ 5. At this point, we need to note that there are two types of phonetic differences between syllables, either of which can form the basis for rhythm. First, syllables differ in terms of their quantity; they can be either ‘long’ or ‘short’, depending on how long it takes to say them. Second, they vary in the amount of force or stress used when pronounced; or, as it's usually put, in terms of their accent.
All the poetic rhythms of the Indogermanic or Aryan languages are based on one or other of these phonetic qualities of syllables, one group observing mainly the quantitative, and the other the accentual principle. Sanskrit, Greek, and Roman poetry is regulated by the principle of the quantity of the syllable, while the Teutonic nations follow the principle of stress or accent.[3] With the Greeks, Romans, and Hindoos the natural quantity of the syllables is made the basis of the rhythmic measures, the rhythmical ictus being fixed without regard to the word-accent. Among the Teutonic nations, on the other hand, the rhythmical ictus coincides normally with the word-accent, and the order in which long and short syllables succeed each other is (with certain exceptions in the early stages of the language) left to be determined by the poet’s sense of harmony or euphony.
All the poetic rhythms of the Indo-European or Aryan languages are based on various phonetic characteristics of syllables. One group mainly focuses on quantity, while the other emphasizes accent. Sanskrit, Greek, and Roman poetry follows the principle of syllable quantity, whereas the Germanic nations adhere to the principle of stress or accent. With the Greeks, Romans, and Hindus, the natural quantity of the syllables is the foundation of the rhythmic measures, with the rhythmic ictus set independently of the word accent. In contrast, among the Germanic nations, the rhythmic ictus usually aligns with the word accent, and the sequence of long and short syllables is determined by the poet's sense of harmony or euphony, except for certain cases in the early stages of the language.
§ 6. Before going further it will be well to define exactly the meaning of the word accent, and to give an account of its different uses. Accent is generally defined as ‘the stronger emphasis put on a syllable, the stress laid on it’, or, as Sweet[4] puts it, ‘the comparative force with which the separate syllables of a sound-group are pronounced.’ According to Brücke[5] it is produced by increasing the pressure of the breath. The stronger the pressure with which the air passes from the lungs through the glottis, the louder will be the tone of voice, the louder will be the sound of the consonants which the stream of air produces in the cavity of the mouth. This increase of tone and sound is what is called ‘accent’. Brücke seems to use tone and sound as almost synonymous, but in metric we must distinguish between them. Sound (sonus) is the more general, tone (τόνος) the more specific expression. Sound, in this general sense, may have a stronger or weaker tone. This strengthening of the tone is usually, not invariably, accompanied by a rise in the pitch of the voice, just as the weakening of the tone is accompanied by a lowering of the pitch. In the Teutonic languages these variations of stress or accent serve to bring into prominence the relative importance logically of the various syllables of which words are composed. As an almost invariable rule, the accent falls in these languages on the root-syllable, which determines the sense of the word, and not on the formative elements which modify that sense. This accent is an expiratory or stress accent.
§ 6. Before we continue, it's important to clearly define what the word accent means and to explain its various uses. Accent is usually defined as ‘the stronger emphasis placed on a syllable, the stress applied to it,’ or, as Sweet[4] puts it, ‘the comparative force with which the separate syllables of a sound group are pronounced.’ According to Brücke[5], it is created by increasing the pressure of the breath. The greater the pressure of air coming from the lungs through the glottis, the louder the tone of voice will be, and the louder the consonants produced by the airflow in the mouth. This increase in tone and sound is what we call ‘accent.’ Brücke seems to consider tone and sound as nearly the same, but in metrics, we need to differentiate between them. Sound (sonus) is the more general term, while tone (τόνος) is more specific. Sound, in this broader sense, can have either strong or weak tone. This strengthening of tone is usually, but not always, accompanied by a rise in the pitch of the voice, just as a weakening of tone is accompanied by a drop in pitch. In the Germanic languages, these variations in stress or accent help highlight the logical importance of different syllables that make up words. As a nearly universal rule, the accent falls on the root syllable, which defines the meaning of the word, rather than on the formative elements that modify that meaning. This accent is an expiratory or stress accent.
It must be noted that we cannot, using the term in this sense, speak of the accent of a monosyllabic word when isolated, but only of its sound; nor can we use the word accent with reference to two or more syllables in juxtaposition, when they are all uttered with precisely the same force of voice. The term is significant only in relation to a variation in the audible stress with which the different syllables of a word or a sentence are spoken. This variation of stress affects monosyllables only in connected speech, where they receive an accentuation relative to the other words of the sentence. An absolute uniformity of stress in a sentence is unnatural, though the amount of variation in stress differs greatly in different languages. ‘The distinctions of stress in some languages are less marked than in others. Thus in French the syllables are all pronounced with a nearly uniform stress, the strong syllables rising only a little above the general level, its occurrence being also uncertain and fluctuating. This makes Frenchmen unable without systematic training to master the accentuation of foreign languages.’[6] English and the other Teutonic languages, on the other hand, show a marked tendency to alternate weak and strong stress.
It’s important to point out that we can’t talk about the accent of a monosyllabic word when it’s on its own, just about its sound; and we also can’t use the word accent when referring to two or more syllables placed together, if they’re all pronounced with exactly the same intensity. The term only matters when there’s a variation in the audible stress with which different syllables of a word or sentence are spoken. This stress variation affects monosyllables only in continuous speech, where they get an emphasis compared to the other words in the sentence. Having a completely even stress in a sentence is unnatural, although the degree of variation in stress can be very different across languages. ‘The differences in stress in some languages are less pronounced than in others. For example, in French, the syllables are generally pronounced with a nearly even stress, with the strong syllables only slightly rising above the overall level, and their occurrence is also uncertain and fluctuating. This makes it hard for French speakers to master the accentuation of foreign languages without systematic training.’[6] In contrast, English and other Germanic languages tend to strongly alternate between weak and strong stress.
§ 7. With regard to the function which it discharges in connected speech, we may classify accent or stress under four different categories. First comes what may be called the syntactical accent, which marks the logical importance of a word in relation to other words of the sentence. In a sentence like ‘the birds are singing’, the substantive ‘birds’ has, as denoting the subject of the sentence, the strongest accent; next in logical or syntactical importance comes the word ‘singing’, denoting an activity of the subject, and this has a comparatively strong accent; the auxiliary ‘are’ being a word of minor importance is uttered with very little force of voice; the article ‘the’, being the least emphatic or significant, is uttered accordingly with the slightest perceptible stress of all.
§ 7. When it comes to its role in connected speech, we can categorize accent or stress into four different types. First is what we can call the syntactical accent, which highlights the logical importance of a word in relation to other words in the sentence. In a sentence like ‘the birds are singing’, the noun ‘birds’, representing the subject of the sentence, carries the strongest accent; next in logical or syntactical importance is the word ‘singing’, indicating an activity of the subject, which has a relatively strong accent; the auxiliary verb ‘are’, being less important, is said with very little emphasis; the article ‘the’, being the least emphatic or significant, is said with the slightest noticeable stress of all.
Secondly, we have the rhetorical accent, or as it might be called, the subjective accent, inasmuch as it depends upon the emphasis which the speaker wishes to give to that particular word of the sentence which he desires to bring prominently before the hearer. Thus in the sentence, ‘you have done this,’ the rhetorical accent may fall on any of the four words which the speaker desires to bring into prominence, e.g. ‘yóu (and no one else) have done this,’ or ‘you háve done this (though you deny it), or you have dóne this’ (you have not left it undone), or, finally, ‘you have done thís’ (and not what you were told). This kind of accent could also be termed the emphatic accent.
Secondly, we have the rhetorical accent, or what could also be called the subjective accent, since it depends on the emphasis the speaker wants to place on a specific word in the sentence that they want to highlight for the listener. For example, in the sentence, ‘you have done this,’ the rhetorical accent can be placed on any of the four words that the speaker wishes to emphasize, such as ‘yóu (and no one else) have done this,’ or ‘you háve done this (even though you deny it),’ or ‘you have dóne this’ (you have not left it undone), or, finally, ‘you have done thís’ (and not what you were told). This type of accent could also be referred to as the emphatic accent.
Thirdly, we have the rhythmical accent, which properly speaking belongs to poetry only, and often gives a word or syllable an amount of stress which it would not naturally have in prose, as, for instance, in the following line of Hamlet (iii. iii. 27)—
Thirdly, we have the rhythmic accent, which technically belongs only to poetry, and often gives a word or syllable more emphasis than it would normally have in prose, as in the following line of Hamlet (iii. iii. 27)—
the unimportant word ‘to’ receives a stronger accent, due to the influence of the rhythm, than it would have in prose. Similarly in the following line of Chaucer’s Troilus and Cryseide, l. 1816—
the unimportant word ‘to’ gets emphasized more strongly, because of the rhythm, than it would in prose. Similarly, in the following line of Chaucer’s Troilus and Cryseide, l. 1816—
the inflexional syllable es was certainly not ordinarily pronounced with so much stress as it must have here under the influence of the accent as determined by the rhythm of the line. Or again the word ‘writyng’, in the following couplet of Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales (Prol. 325–6)—
the inflectional syllable es was definitely not usually pronounced with as much emphasis as it must have been here, influenced by the accent determined by the line's rhythm. Or again, the word ‘writyng’ in the following couplet from Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales (Prol. 325-6)—
was certainly not pronounced in ordinary speech with the same stress on the last syllable as is here demanded both by the rhythm and rhyme.
was definitely not said in everyday conversation with the same emphasis on the last syllable as is required here by both the rhythm and the rhyme.
As a rule, however, the rhythmical accent in English coincides with the fourth kind of accent, the etymological or word-accent, which we now have to deal with, and in greater detail.
As a rule, though, the rhythmical emphasis in English aligns with the fourth type of emphasis, the etymological or word-emphasis, which we now need to discuss in more detail.
Just as the different words of a sentence are pronounced, as we have seen, with varying degrees of stress, so similarly the different syllables of a single word are uttered with a varying intensity of the force of the breath. One of the syllables of the individual word is always marked off from the rest by a greater force of tone, and these others are again differentiated from each other by subordinate gradations of intensity of utterance, which may sometimes be so weak as to lead to a certain amount of indistinctness, especially in English. In the Teutonic languages, the root-syllable, as the most important element of the word, and that which conveys the meaning, always bears the chief accent, the other syllables bearing accents which are subordinate to this chief accent. As the etymology of a word is always closely associated with the form of the root-syllable, this syllabic accent may be called the etymological accent. It naturally happens that this syllabic accent coincides very often with the syntactical accent, as the syntactical stress must be laid on the syllable which has the etymological accent.
Just like the different words in a sentence are pronounced with varying levels of emphasis, the different syllables of a single word are spoken with different strengths of breath. One syllable in a word is always emphasized more than the others, and the remaining syllables are further distinguished from one another by lesser degrees of intensity, which can sometimes be so faint that they become a bit unclear, especially in English. In Germanic languages, the root syllable, being the most important part of the word that conveys its meaning, always carries the main stress, while the other syllables have lesser stresses. Since a word's origin is closely related to the form of the root syllable, this syllabic stress can be referred to as the etymological stress. It often happens that this syllabic stress aligns with the syntactic stress because the syntactic emphasis must be placed on the syllable that carries the etymological stress.
The degrees of stress on the various syllables may be as many in number as the number of the syllables of the word in question. It is sufficient, however, for purposes of metre and historical grammar, to distinguish only four degrees of accent in polysyllabic words. These four degrees of syllabic and etymological accent are as follows: 1. the chief accent (Hochton, Hauptton); 2. the subsidiary accent (Tiefton, Nebenton); 3. the absence of accent, or the unaccented degree (Tonlosigkeit); 4. the mute degree, or absence of sound (Stummheit). These last three varieties of accent arise from the nature of the Teutonic accent, which is, it must always be remembered, a stress-accent in which the volume of breath is expended mainly on the first or chief syllable. The full meaning of these terms can most easily be explained and understood by means of examples chosen either from English or German, whose accentual basis is essentially the same. In the word, wonderful, the first syllable has the chief accent (1), the last has the subsidiary accent (2), and the middle syllable is unaccented (3). The fourth or mute degree may be seen in such a word as wondrous, shortened from wonderous. This fuller form may still be used, for metrical purposes, as a trisyllable in which the first syllable has the chief accent, the last the subsidiary accent, and the middle syllable is unaccented, though audible. The usual pronunciation is, however, in agreement with the usual spelling, disyllabic, and is wondrous; in other words, the vowel e which originally formed the middle syllable, has been dropped altogether in speech as in writing. From the point of view of the accent, it has passed from the unaccented state to the state of muteness; but may be restored to the unaccented, though audible, state, wherever emphasis or metre requires the full syllable. We have the line: ‘And it grew wondrous cold,’ for which we might have ‘The cold grew wonderous’. In other cases the vowel is retained in writing but is often dropped in colloquial pronunciation, or for metrical convenience. Thus, in Shakespeare, we find sometimes the full form—
The levels of stress on the different syllables can be as numerous as there are syllables in the word. However, for the sake of meter and historical grammar, it's enough to identify only four levels of accent in polysyllabic words. These four levels of syllabic and etymological accent are: 1. the primary accent (Hochton, Hauptton); 2. the secondary accent (Tiefton, Nebenton); 3. the lack of accent, or the unstressed level (Tonlosigkeit); 4. the silent level, or absence of sound (Stummheit). The last three variations of accent stem from the nature of the Teutonic accent, which is, as always important to remember, a stress accent focusing breath mainly on the first or primary syllable. The full meaning of these terms can be more easily explained and understood using examples from either English or German, as their accentual foundations are essentially the same. In the word wonderful, the first syllable has the primary accent (1), the last has the secondary accent (2), and the middle syllable is unstressed (3). The fourth or silent level can be seen in a word like wondrous, shortened from wonderous. This longer form can still be used for metrical purposes as a three-syllable word where the first syllable has the primary accent, the last has the secondary accent, and the middle syllable is unstressed, though audible. However, the usual pronunciation aligns with the typical spelling, making it disyllabic and read as wondrous; in other words, the vowel e, which originally made up the middle syllable, has been completely dropped in speech as well as in writing. From the perspective of accent, it has transitioned from the unstressed state to a silent state; yet it can be restored to the unstressed, though audible, state whenever emphasis or meter needs the full syllable. We have the line: ‘And it grew wondrous cold,’ but we could also say ‘The cold grew wonderous.’ In other situations, the vowel is kept in writing but often omitted in everyday speech for convenience in meter. Therefore, in Shakespeare, we sometimes find the full form
and sometimes the curtailed form—
and sometimes the shortened form—
This passing of an unaccented syllable into complete muteness is very frequent in English, as compared with other cognate languages. It has led, in the historical development of the language, to a gradual weakening, and finally, in many instances, to a total loss of the inflexional endings. Very frequently, an inflexional vowel that has become mute is retained in the current spelling; thus in the verbal forms gives, lives, the e of the termination, though no longer pronounced, is still retained in writing. Sometimes, in poetical texts, it is omitted, but its position is indicated by an apostrophe, as in the spellings robb’d, belov’d. In many words, on the other hand, the silent vowel has ceased to be written, as in grown, sworn, of which the original forms were growen, sworen
This shift from an unstressed syllable to complete silence is quite common in English compared to other related languages. It has led, over time, to a gradual weakening and, in many cases, a total loss of inflectional endings. Often, an inflectional vowel that has become silent is still kept in the current spelling; for example, in the verb forms gives, lives, the e at the end, although not pronounced anymore, is still included in writing. Sometimes, in poetry, it's left out, but its position is shown with an apostrophe, like in robb’d, belov’d. In many words, however, the silent vowel is no longer written, as seen in grown, sworn, which originally were growen, sworen
§ 8. Written marks to indicate the position of the accent were employed in early German poetry as early as the first half of the ninth century, when they were introduced, it is supposed, by Hrabanus Maurus of Fulda and his pupil Otfrid. The similar marks that are found in certain Early English MSS., as the Ormulum, are usually signs of vowel-quantity. They may possibly have sometimes been intended to denote stress, but their use for this purpose is so irregular and uncertain that they give little help towards determining the varying degrees of accent in words during the earliest stages of the language. For this purpose we must look for other and less ambiguous means, and these are found (in the case of Old English words and forms) first, in the alliteration, secondly, in comparison with related words of the other Teutonic languages, and, thirdly, in the development in the later stages of English itself. After the Norman Conquest, the introduction of rhyme, and of new forms of metre imitated from the French and mediaeval Latin poetry, affords further help in investigating the different degrees of syllabic accent in Middle English words. None of these means, however, can be considered as yielding results of absolute certainty, chiefly because during this period the accentuation of the language was passing through a stage of transition or compromise between the radically different principles which characterize the Romanic and Teutonic families of languages. This will be explained more fully in a subsequent chapter.
§ 8. Written markers to show where the accent should be placed were used in early German poetry as early as the first half of the ninth century, supposedly introduced by Hrabanus Maurus of Fulda and his student Otfrid. The similar markers found in some Early English manuscripts, like the Ormulum, usually indicate vowel length. They might have sometimes been meant to show stress, but their use for this purpose is so inconsistent and unclear that they provide little assistance in identifying the varying degrees of accent in words during the earliest stages of the language. For this, we need to look for other, clearer methods, which can be found (in the case of Old English words and forms) first, in alliteration; second, by comparing related words from other Germanic languages; and third, through the evolution in the later stages of English itself. After the Norman Conquest, the introduction of rhyme and new metrical forms borrowed from French and medieval Latin poetry offers additional insights into the different degrees of syllabic stress in Middle English words. However, none of these methods can be regarded as yielding absolutely certain results, primarily because during this period the accentuation of the language was evolving through a phase of transition or compromise between the fundamentally different principles that characterize the Romance and Teutonic language families. This will be explained in more detail in a later chapter.
Notwithstanding this period of fluctuation the fundamental law of accentuation remained unaltered, namely, that the chief accent falls on the root of the word, which is in most cases the first syllable. For purposes of notation the acute (´) will be used in this work to denote the chief accent, the grave (`) the subsidiary accent of the single word; to indicate the rhythmical or metrical accent the acute alone will be sufficient.
Despite this time of change, the basic rule of accentuation stayed the same: the main accent is on the root of the word, which is usually the first syllable. For notation in this work, the acute (´) will represent the main accent, while the grave (`) will indicate the secondary accent of a single word; to show the rhythmic or metrical accent, the acute alone will suffice.
§ 9. In English poetry, as in the poetry of the other Teutonic nations, the rhythmical accent coincides normally with the syllabic or etymological accent, and this, therefore, determines and regulates the rhythm. In the oldest form of Teutonic poetry, the original alliterative line, the rhythm is indicated by a definite number of strongly accented syllables, accompanied by a less definite number of syllables which do not bear the same emphatic stress. This principle of versification prevails not only in Old English and Old and Middle High German poetry, but also, to a certain extent, in the period of Middle English, where, in the same manner, the number of beats or accented syllables indicates the number of ‘feet’ or metrical units, and a single strongly accented syllable can by itself constitute a ‘foot’. This practice is a feature which distinguishes early English and German poetry, not only from the classical poetry, in which a foot or measure must consist of at least two syllables, but also from that of the Romanic, modern German, and modern English languages, which has been influenced by classical example, and in which, accordingly, a foot must contain one accented and at least one unaccented syllable following one another in a regular order. The classical terms ‘foot’ and ‘measure’ have, in their strict sense, relation to the quantity of the syllables, and can therefore be applied to the modern metres only by analogy. In poetry which is based on the principle of accent or stress, the proper term is bar (in German Takt). The general resemblances between modern accentual and ancient quantitative metres are, however, so strong, that it is hardly desirable to discontinue the application of old and generally understood technical terms of the classical versification to modern metres, provided the fundamental distinction between quantity and accent is always borne in mind.
§ 9. In English poetry, as in the poetry of other Germanic nations, the rhythmic accent typically matches the syllabic or etymological accent, which in turn shapes and regulates the rhythm. In the earliest form of Germanic poetry, the original alliterative line, rhythm is marked by a specific number of strongly accented syllables, along with a less defined number of syllables that don’t carry the same stress. This rhythmic pattern exists not only in Old English and Old and Middle High German poetry but also, to some extent, in Middle English, where, similarly, the number of beats or accented syllables indicates the number of 'feet' or metrical units, and a single strongly accented syllable can stand alone as a 'foot.' This characteristic sets early English and German poetry apart not only from classical poetry, which requires a foot or measure to have at least two syllables, but also from the poetry of Romance languages, modern German, and modern English, which have been influenced by classical examples, where each foot must include one accented syllable followed by at least one unaccented syllable in a regular sequence. The classical terms ‘foot’ and ‘measure’ relate strictly to syllable quantity, so they can only be applied to modern meters by analogy. In poetry focused on accent or stress, the appropriate term is bar (in German Takt). Nonetheless, the overall similarities between modern accentual and ancient quantitative meters are so strong that it’s hardly ideal to stop using the old and widely understood technical terms from classical versification to describe modern meters, as long as the key difference between quantity and accent is kept in mind.
Setting aside for the present the old Teutonic alliterative line, in which a ‘bar’ might permissibly consist of a single syllable, we may retain the names of the feet of the classical quantitative versification for the ‘bars’ of modern versification, using them in modified senses. A group consisting of one unaccented followed by an accented syllable may be called an iambus; one accented followed by an unaccented syllable a trochee; two unaccented syllables followed by an accented syllable an anapaest; one accented syllable followed by two unaccented syllables a dactyl. These four measures might also be described according to the length of the intervals separating the accents, and according as the rhythm is ascending (passing from an unaccented to an accented syllable) or descending (passing from an accented to an unaccented syllable). We should then have the terms, (1) ascending disyllabic (iambus), (2) descending disyllabic (trochee), (3) ascending trisyllabic (anapaest), and (4) descending trisyllabic (dactyl).[7] But we may agree with Prof. Mayor that ‘it is certainly more convenient to speak of iambic than of ascending disyllabic’.[8] It is, however, only in the case of these four feet or measures that it is desirable to adhere to the terminology of the ancient metres, and as a matter of fact iambus, trochee, anapaest, and dactyl are the only names of classical feet that are commonly recognized in English prosody.[9] As to the employment in the treatment of English metre of less familiar technical terms derived from classical prosody, we agree with Prof. Mayor, when he says: ‘I can sympathize with Mr. Ellis in his objection to the classicists who would force upon us such terms as choriambic and proceleusmatic to explain the rhythm of Milton. I do not deny that the effect of his rhythm might sometimes be represented by such terms; but if we seriously adopt them to explain his metre, we are attempting an impossibility, to express in technical language the infinite variety of measured sound which a genius like Milton could draw out of the little five-stringed instrument on which he chose to play.’ The use of these and other classical terms is justifiable only when we have to deal with professed imitations of ancient forms of verse in English.
Setting aside for now the old Teutonic alliterative line, where a ‘bar’ could simply be a single syllable, we can use the names of the feet from classical quantitative verse for the ‘bars’ in modern verse, but in modified ways. A group made up of one unaccented syllable followed by an accented syllable can be called an iambus; one accented syllable followed by an unaccented syllable is a trochee; two unaccented syllables followed by an accented syllable is an anapaest; and one accented syllable followed by two unaccented syllables is a dactyl. These four measures can also be described by the lengths of the intervals between the accents, depending on whether the rhythm is ascending (moving from an unaccented to an accented syllable) or descending (moving from an accented to an unaccented syllable). So we would have the terms: (1) ascending disyllabic (iambus), (2) descending disyllabic (trochee), (3) ascending trisyllabic (anapaest), and (4) descending trisyllabic (dactyl).[7] However, we can agree with Prof. Mayor that ‘it is certainly more convenient to speak of iambic than of ascending disyllabic.’[8] It is, though, only for these four feet or measures that it makes sense to stick with the terminology of ancient metres, and in fact, iambus, trochee, anapaest, and dactyl are the only names of classical feet that are generally accepted in English prosody.[9] Regarding the use of less familiar technical terms from classical prosody in English metre, we concur with Prof. Mayor when he says: ‘I can sympathize with Mr. Ellis in his objection to the classicists who would impose terms like choriambic and proceleusmatic to describe Milton's rhythm. I do not deny that the effect of his rhythm might sometimes be captured by such terms; but if we seriously adopt them to explain his metre, we are attempting an impossibility, trying to express in technical language the infinite variety of measured sound that a genius like Milton could create with the little five-stringed instrument he chose to play.’ The use of these and other classical terms is justifiable only when we're dealing with clear imitations of ancient verse forms in English.
Whatever names may be chosen to denote the metrical forms, the measure or foot always remains the unity which is the basis of all modern metrical systems, and of all investigation into metre. For a line or verse is built up by the succession of a limited number of feet or measures, equal or unequal. With regard to the limit of the number of feet permissible in a line or verse, no fixed rule can be laid down. In no case must a line contain more feet than the ear may without difficulty apprehend as a rhythmic whole; or, if the number of feet is too great for this, the line must be divided by a pause or break (caesura) into two or more parts which we may then call rhythmical sections. This break is a characteristic mark of the typical Old English alliterative line, which is made up of two rhythmical sections. The structure of this verse was at one time obscured through the practice of printing each of these sections by itself as a short line; but Grimm’s example is now universally followed, and the two sections are printed as parts of one long line.[10] Before entering into a detailed consideration of the alliterative long line, it will be needful to make a few general remarks on rhyme and its different species.
Whatever names are used to describe the metrical forms, the measure or foot always remains the core element that underpins all modern metrical systems and the study of metre. A line or verse is created by the sequence of a limited number of feet or measures, whether they are equal or unequal. There aren’t strict rules about how many feet are allowed in a line or verse. A line should never contain more feet than can be easily recognized as a rhythmic whole; if there are too many feet for that, the line should be divided by a pause or break (caesura) into two or more parts, which we can then refer to as rhythmical sections. This break is a defining feature of the typical Old English alliterative line, which consists of two rhythmical sections. The format of this verse was once unclear due to the practice of printing each of these sections separately as short lines; however, Grimm’s example is now widely followed, and the two sections are printed as parts of one long line.[10] Before diving into a detailed discussion of the alliterative long line, it’s necessary to share a few general thoughts on rhyme and its various types.
§ 10. Modern metre is not only differentiated from metre of the classical languages by the principle of accent as opposed to quantity; it has added a new metrical principle foreign to the ancient systems. This principle is Rhyme. Instances of what looks like rhyme are found in the classical poets from Homer onwards, but they are sporadic, and are probably due to accident.[11]
§ 10. Modern meter is not just different from the meter of classical languages because it uses accent instead of quantity; it has also introduced a new metrical principle that was absent in ancient systems. This principle is Rhyme. While examples that resemble rhyme can be found in classical poets from Homer onward, they are infrequent and likely a result of accident.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
Rhyme was not in use as an accessory to metre in Latin till the quantitative principle had given way to the accentual principle in the later hymns of the Church, and it has passed thence into all European systems of metre.
Rhyme wasn’t used as an addition to meter in Latin until the quantitative principle was replaced by the accentual principle in the later hymns of the Church, and it has since been adopted into all European metrical systems.
In its widest sense rhyme is an agreement or consonance of sounds in syllables or words, and falls into several subdivisions, according to the extent and position of this agreement. As to its position, this consonance may occur in the beginning of a syllable or word, or in the middle, or in both middle and end at the same time. As to its extent, it may comprehend one or two or more syllables. Out of these various possibilities of likeness or consonance there arise three chief kinds of rhyme in this wide sense, alliteration, assonance, and end-rhyme, or rhyme simply in the more limited and usual acceptation of the word.
In its broadest sense, rhyme is the agreement or matching of sounds in syllables or words, and it can be divided into several categories based on how extensive and where this matching occurs. Regarding its position, this consonance can happen at the beginning of a syllable or word, in the middle, or in both the middle and the end simultaneously. As for its extent, it can involve one, two, or more syllables. From these different possibilities of similarity or consonance, we get three main types of rhyme in this broad sense: alliteration, assonance, and end-rhyme, which is simply rhyme in the more limited and common understanding of the term.
§ 11. This last, end-rhyme, or full-rhyme, or rhyme proper, consists in a perfect agreement or consonance of syllables or words except in their initial sounds, which as a rule are different. Generally speaking, the agreement of sounds falls on the last accented syllable of a word, or on the last accented syllable and a following unaccented syllable or syllables. End-rhyme or full-rhyme seems to have arisen independently and without historical connexion in several nations, but as far as our present purpose goes we may confine ourselves to its development in Europe among the nations of Romanic speech at the beginning of the Middle Ages. Its adoption into all modern literature is due to the extensive use made of it in the hymns of the Church. Full-rhyme or end-rhyme therefore is a characteristic of modern European poetry, and though it cannot be denied that unrhymed verse, or blank verse, is much used in English poetry, the fact remains that this metre is an exotic product of the Renaissance, and has never become thoroughly popular. Its use is limited to certain kinds of poetic composition, whereas rhyme prevails over the wider part of the realm of modern poetry.
§ 11. This final type of rhyme, known as end-rhyme, full-rhyme, or proper rhyme, involves a perfect agreement of sounds in syllables or words, except for their initial sounds, which are typically different. Usually, the sound agreement occurs at the last stressed syllable of a word, or at the last stressed syllable plus one or more following unstressed syllables. End-rhyme or full-rhyme seems to have developed independently in several countries without historical connections, but for our purposes, we can focus on its evolution in Europe among Romance language nations at the start of the Middle Ages. Its widespread use in modern literature can be attributed to its significant presence in Church hymns. Therefore, full-rhyme or end-rhyme is a defining feature of modern European poetry. While it's true that unrhymed verse, or blank verse, is commonly used in English poetry, it should be noted that this meter is an exotic creation of the Renaissance and has never gained widespread popularity. Its use is restricted to specific types of poetic works, while rhyme continues to dominate the broader landscape of modern poetry.
§ 12. The second kind of rhyme (taking the word in its broader sense), namely, vocalic assonance, is of minor importance in the treatment of English metre. It consists in a similarity between the vowel-sounds only of different words; the surrounding consonants do not count. The following groups of words are assonant together: give, thick, fish, win; sell, step, net; thorn, storm, horse. This kind of rhyme was very popular among the Romanic nations, and among them alone. Its first beginnings are found in the Latin ecclesiastical hymns, and these soon developed into real or full-rhyme.[12] It passed thence into Provençal, Old French, and Spanish poetry, and has continued in use in the last named. It is very rarely found in English verse, it has in fact never been used deliberately, as far as we know, except in certain recent experiments in metre. Where it does seem to occur it is safest to look upon it as imperfect rhyme only. Instances are found in the Early English metrical romances, Lives of Saints, and popular ballad poetry, where the technique of the metre is not of a high order; examples such as flete, wepe; brake, gate; slepe, ymete from King Horn might be looked on as assonances, but were probably intended for real rhymes. The consistent use of the full-rhyme being difficult, the poets, in such instances as these, contented themselves with the simpler harmony between the vowels alone, which represents a transition stage between the older rhymeless alliterative verse, and the newer Romanic metres with real and complete rhyme. Another possible form of assonance, in which the consonants alone agree while the vowels may differ, might be called consonantal assonance as distinguished from vocalic assonance, or assonance simply. This form of assonance is not found in English poetry, though it is employed in Celtic and Icelandic metres.[13]
§ 12. The second type of rhyme (in a broader sense), which is vocalic assonance, is less important in English meter. It consists of a similarity in the vowel sounds of different words, ignoring the surrounding consonants. The following groups of words are assonant: give, thick, fish, win; sell, step, net; thorn, storm, horse. This type of rhyme was very popular among Romance languages, and among them only. Its origins can be traced back to Latin ecclesiastical hymns, which soon evolved into true or full rhymes. It then transferred to Provençal, Old French, and Spanish poetry, where it has continued to be used. It is very rarely found in English verse; in fact, it has never been used intentionally, as far as we know, except in some recent experiments with meter. Where it does appear, it’s safest to consider it as imperfect rhyme. There are examples in Early English metrical romances, Lives of Saints, and popular ballad poetry, where the meter’s technique is not very sophisticated; instances like flete, wepe; brake, gate; slepe, ymete from King Horn could be considered assonances, but were likely intended to be true rhymes. Since consistent full-rhyme is challenging, poets in these cases settled for a simpler harmony between the vowels alone, representing a transition between the older unrhymed alliterative verse and the newer Romance meters with actual complete rhyme. Another possible form of assonance, where the consonants match but the vowels differ, could be called consonantal assonance to distinguish it from vocalic assonance, or just assonance. This form of assonance isn’t found in English poetry, but it is used in Celtic and Icelandic meters.
§ 13. The third species of rhyme, to use the word still in its widest sense, is known as alliteration (German Stabreim or Anreim). It is common to all Teutonic nations, and is found fully developed in the oldest poetical monuments of Old Norse, Old High German, Old Saxon, and Old English. Even in classical poetry, especially in the remains of archaic Latin, it is not unfrequently met with, but serves only as a means for giving to combinations of words a rhetorical emphasis, and is not a formal principle of the metre bound by strict rules, as it is in Teutonic poetry. Alliteration consists in a consonance or agreement of the sounds at the beginning of a word or syllable, as in love and liking, house and home, woe and weal. The alliteration of vowels and diphthongs has this peculiarity that the agreement need not be exact as in ‛apt alliteration’s artful aid’, but can exist, at least in the oldest stages of the language, between all vowels indiscriminately. Thus in the oldest English not only were ellen and ende, ǣnig and ǣr, ēac and ēage alliterations, but age and īdel, ǣnig and ellen, eallum and æðelingum were employed in the strictest forms of verse as words which perfectly alliterated with each other.
§ 13. The third type of rhyme, using the term in its broadest sense, is known as alliteration (German Stabreim or Anreim). It's common among all Teutonic nations and is well-developed in the oldest poetic works of Old Norse, Old High German, Old Saxon, and Old English. Even in classical poetry, particularly in the early Latin texts, it’s not uncommon, but it mainly serves to give combinations of words rhetorical emphasis and is not a formal metric principle constrained by strict rules, as it is in Teutonic poetry. Alliteration involves a match or agreement of sounds at the start of a word or syllable, like in love and liking, house and home, woe and weal. The alliteration of vowels and diphthongs has the unique feature that the agreement doesn’t have to be exact, as in "apt alliteration's artful aid," but can exist, especially in the earliest stages of the language, among all vowels without restriction. So, in the earliest English, not only were ellen and ende, ǣnig and ǣr, ēac and ēage examples of alliteration, but age and īdel, ǣnig and ellen, eallum and æðelingum were also used in the strictest forms of verse as words that perfectly alliterated with each other.
This apparent confusion of vowel-sounds so different in their quantity and quality is probably to be explained by the fact that originally in English, as now in German, all the vowels were preceded by a ‘glottal catch’ which is the real alliterating sound.[14] The harmony or consonance of the unlike vowels is hardly perceptible in Modern English and does not count as alliteration.
This apparent mix-up of vowel sounds, which differ significantly in their amount and quality, can likely be explained by the fact that originally in English, just like in German today, all the vowels were preceded by a ‘glottal catch,’ which is the actual alliterating sound.[14] The harmony or consonance of the different vowels is barely noticeable in Modern English and doesn’t qualify as alliteration.
The most general law of the normal alliterative line is that three or at least two of the four strongly accented syllables which occur in every long line (two in each section) must begin with an alliterative letter, for example, in the following Old English lines:
The most basic rule of the normal alliterative line is that three or at least two of the four strongly stressed syllables that appear in every long line (two in each part) must start with an alliterative letter, for instance, in the following Old English lines:
or in early Modern English:
or in early Modern English:
The history of the primitive alliterative line follows very different lines of development in the various Teutonic nations. In Old High German, after a period in which the strict laws of the verse were largely neglected, it was abandoned in favour of rhyme by Otfrid (circa 868). In Old English it kept its place as the only form of verse for all classes of poetical composition, and continued in use, even after the introduction of Romanic forms of metre, during the Middle English period, and did not totally die out till the beginning of the seventeenth century. The partial revival of it is due to the increased interest in Old English studies, but has been confined largely to translations. As an occasional rhetorical or stylistic ornament of both rhymed and unrhymed verse, alliteration has always been made use of by English poets.
The history of the primitive alliterative line has developed in very different ways across various Teutonic nations. In Old High German, after a time when the strict rules of verse were mostly ignored, it was abandoned in favor of rhyme by Otfrid (around 868). In Old English, it remained the main form of verse for all types of poetic composition and continued to be used, even after the introduction of Romance meter forms, throughout the Middle English period, and didn't completely fade away until the early seventeenth century. Its partial revival is thanks to a growing interest in Old English studies, but this has mostly been limited to translations. Alliteration has always been used by English poets as a stylistic or rhetorical embellishment in both rhymed and unrhymed verse.
CHAPTER II
THE ALLITERATIVE VERSE IN OLD ENGLISH
§ 14. General remarks. It is highly probable that alliteration was the earliest kind of poetic form employed by the English people. There is no trace in the extant monuments of the language of any more primitive or simpler system. A predilection for alliteration existed even in prose, as in the names of heroes and families like Scyld and Sceaf, Hengist and Horsa, Finn and Folcwald, pairs that alliterate in the same way as the family names of other Teutonic nations: the names of the three sons of Mannus, Ingo, Isto, Irmino, conform to this type.[15] The earliest monuments of Old English poetry, as the fragmentary hymn of Cædmon in the More MS. (Cambridge) and the inscription on the Ruthwell Cross, are composed in the long alliterative line. The great body of Old English verse is in this metre, the only exceptions being the ‘Rhyming Poem’ (in the Exeter Book),[16] and a few other late pieces, in which alliteration and rhyme are combined. This Old English poetry, therefore, together with the Old Norse and Old Saxon remains (the Heliand with 5,985 lines, and the recently discovered fragment of the Old Saxon Genesis, edited by Zangemeister and Braune, 1894, with 335 lines), affords ample and trustworthy material for determining the laws of the alliterative verse as used by the Teutonic nations. In comparison with these the remains of Old High German alliterative verse are both scanty and lax in structure.
§ 14. General remarks. It's very likely that alliteration was the earliest form of poetry used by the English people. There’s no evidence in the surviving artifacts of the language of any more primitive or simpler system. A preference for alliteration was even present in prose, seen in the names of heroes and families like Scyld and Sceaf, Hengist and Horsa, Finn and Folcwald, pairs that alliterate just like the family names in other Teutonic nations: the names of Mannus's three sons, Ingo, Isto, Irmino, follow this pattern. The earliest examples of Old English poetry, such as the fragmentary hymn of Cædmon in the More MS. (Cambridge) and the inscription on the Ruthwell Cross, are written in the long alliterative line. Most of Old English verse uses this meter, with the only exceptions being the ‘Rhyming Poem’ (in the Exeter Book) and a few other later pieces, where alliteration and rhyme are mixed. This Old English poetry, along with the Old Norse and Old Saxon texts (the Heliand with 5,985 lines, and the recently discovered fragment of the Old Saxon Genesis, edited by Zangemeister and Braune, 1894, with 335 lines), provides plenty of reliable material for understanding the rules of alliterative verse as used by the Teutonic nations. In comparison, the remnants of Old High German alliterative verse are both limited and less structured.
§ 15. Theories on the metrical form of the alliterative line. Notwithstanding their comparative scantiness, the Old High German fragments (Hildebrandslied, Wessobrunner Gebet, Muspilli and two magical formulae, with a total of some 110 lines) formed the basis of the earliest theories of the laws of the accentuation and general character of the original alliterative line. They were assumed to have preserved the features of the primitive metre, and conclusions were drawn from them as to the typical form of the verse. When examined closely, the Old High German remains (and this is true also of the longer monuments in Old Saxon) are found to differ widely from Old Norse and Old English verse in one respect. While the general and dominating features of the line remain the same, the Old High German and Old Saxon lines are much longer than the Old Norse or Old English lines. In Old Norse or Old English the half line frequently contains no more than four syllables, in marked contrast to Old High German and Old Saxon, where the half line or section is considerably longer.
§ 15. Theories on the metrical form of the alliterative line. Despite being relatively few in number, the Old High German fragments (Hildebrandslied, Wessobrunner Gebet, Muspilli, and two magical formulas, totaling about 110 lines) laid the groundwork for the earliest theories about the rules of accentuation and the overall characteristics of the original alliterative line. It was believed that these fragments retained the features of the primitive meter, leading to conclusions about the typical structure of the verse. Upon closer examination, the Old High German remains (this also applies to the longer texts in Old Saxon) reveal significant differences from Old Norse and Old English verse in one major way. While the general and predominant characteristics of the line are consistent, the Old High German and Old Saxon lines are much longer than those in Old Norse or Old English. In Old Norse or Old English, the half line often contains only four syllables, in stark contrast to Old High German and Old Saxon, where the half line or section is considerably longer.
The first attempt at a theory of the metrical structure of the alliterative line was made by Lachmann. He based his theory on the form of verse created by Otfrid, in imitation of Latin models, which consists of a long line of eight accents, separated by leonine rhyme into two sections each of four accents alternately strong and weak.[17] The laws of the rhyming and strophic verse of Otfrid were applied by Lachmann to the purely alliterative verses of the Old High German Hildebrandslied, and this system of scanning was further applied by his followers to the alliterative verse of Old English, the true nature of which was long misunderstood on the Continent. In England itself a sounder view of the native alliterative verse was propounded by Bishop Percy as early as 1765, in his Essay on the Metre of Pierce Plowman published along with his well-known Reliques of Ancient English Poetry, not to speak of the earlier writings of G. Gascoigne (1575) and James VI (1585). But the number and authority of some of Lachmann’s followers are such that some detailed account of their theories must be given.[18]
The first effort to create a theory about the metrical structure of the alliterative line was made by Lachmann. He based his theory on the type of verse developed by Otfrid, which was inspired by Latin models. This verse consists of a long line with eight accents, split into two sections of four accents each, alternating between strong and weak, using leonine rhyme. [17] Lachmann applied the rules of rhyming and strophic verse from Otfrid to the purely alliterative verses of the Old High German Hildebrandslied, and his method of scanning was later used by his followers for the alliterative verse of Old English, which had been misunderstood for a long time on the continent. In England, a clearer understanding of the native alliterative verse was presented by Bishop Percy as early as 1765 in his Essay on the Metre of Pierce Plowman, published alongside his famous Reliques of Ancient English Poetry, not to mention the earlier works of G. Gascoigne (1575) and James VI (1585). However, the number and authority of some of Lachmann’s followers are so significant that a detailed account of their theories must be given.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
§ 16. The four-beat theory of the alliterative verse, based on the assumption that each of the two sections must have had four accented syllables to bring out a regular rhythm, was applied by Lachmann himself only to the Old High German Hildebrandslied,[19] while on the other hand he recognized a freer variety with two chief accents only in each section, for the Old Norse, Old Saxon, and Old English. The four-beat theory was further applied to the Old High German Muspilli by Bartsch,[20] and to the rest of the smaller relics of Old High German verse by Müllenhoff.[21] The next step was to bring the Old Saxon Heliand and the Old English Beowulf under this system of scansion; and this was taken by M. Heyne in 1866 and 1867. But the metre of Beowulf does not differ from that of the other alliterative poems in Old English, and these in their turn were claimed for the four-beat theory by Schubert,22 but with this important modification, made before by Bartsch, that side by side with the usual four-beat sections there were also to be found sections of three beats only. One obvious difficulty in applying the theory of four strongly marked beats to the Old English half-lines or hemistichs is this, that in Old English these hemistichs consist in very many cases of not more than four syllables altogether, each one of which would on this theory have an accent to itself. To meet these cases E. Jessen[23] started the theory that in certain cases pauses had to be substituted for ‘beats not realized’. A further modification of the four-beat doctrine was introduced by Amelung,[24] who maintained that in the metre of the Heliand each hemistich had two primary or chief accents and two secondary or subordinate accents. In order to bring the verse under this scansion he assumes that certain syllables admitted of being lengthened. He further regarded the Heliand verse as a metre regulated by strict time, and not as a measure intended for free recitation and depending only on the number of accented syllables.
§ 16. The four-beat theory of alliterative verse, based on the idea that each of the two halves should have four accented syllables for a consistent rhythm, was only applied by Lachmann himself to the Old High German Hildebrandslied,[19] while he acknowledged a more flexible style with only two main accents in each section for Old Norse, Old Saxon, and Old English. The four-beat theory was later applied to the Old High German Muspilli by Bartsch,[20] and to the remaining smaller fragments of Old High German verse by Müllenhoff.[21] The next step was to categorize the Old Saxon Heliand and the Old English Beowulf under this scanning system; this was done by M. Heyne in 1866 and 1867. However, the meter of Beowulf is the same as that of other alliterative poems in Old English, which Schubert claimed for the four-beat theory,22 but with an important change previously made by Bartsch, that alongside the usual four-beat sections, there were also sections with only three beats. A clear challenge in applying the four strongly marked beats theory to the Old English half-lines or hemistichs is that often these hemistichs consist of only four syllables, each of which would, according to this theory, carry its own accent. To address these issues, E. Jessen[23] proposed that in certain situations pauses needed to replace ‘beats not realized.’ A further adjustment to the four-beat theory was introduced by Amelung,[24] who argued that in the meter of the Heliand, each hemistich contained two primary or main accents and two secondary or subordinate accents. To fit this verse into this scanning system, he assumed that certain syllables could be lengthened. He also viewed the verse of Heliand as a meter governed by strict timing, rather than a framework meant for free recitation based simply on the quantity of accented syllables.
A few other more recent attempts at solving the problem must be mentioned before we pass on to explain and discuss Sievers’s system in the next paragraph. The views of Prof. Möller of Copenhagen[25] have found an adherent in Lawrence, from whose book[26] we may quote the following summary of Möller’s theory. According to Prof. Möller the hemistich consists theoretically of two measures (Takte), each of four morae ×́××̀× (a mora, ×, being the time required for one short syllable), and therefore the whole verse of four measures, thus:
A few other recent attempts to solve the problem need to be mentioned before we move on to explain and discuss Sievers's system in the next paragraph. The ideas of Prof. Möller of Copenhagen[25] have gained support from Lawrence, who summarizes Möller’s theory in his book[26]. According to Prof. Möller, the hemistich theoretically consists of two measures (Takte), each containing four morae ×́××̀× (a mora, ×, being the time needed for one short syllable), making the whole verse consist of four measures, as follows:
×́××̀×|×́××̀×||×́××̀×|×́××̀×||.
×́××̀×|×́××̀×||×́××̀×|×́××̀×||.
Where, in a verse, the morae are not filled by actual syllables, their time must be occupied by rests (represented by r*) in reciting, by holding on the note in singing.[27] A long syllable, ——, is equivalent to two morae. Thus v. 208 of Beowulf
Where, in a line, the morae aren't filled by actual syllables, their duration must be taken up by pauses (marked by r*) when reciting, by sustaining the note while singing.[27] A long syllable, ——, is equal to two morae. So, in verse 208 of Beowulf
would be symbolically represented as follows:
would be represented symbolically as follows:
–́×̀×|–́×̀ r ||–́ rr |–́×̀×.
–́×̀×|–́×̀ r ||–́ rr |–́×̀×.
According to this system the pause at secg will be twice as long as that at sōhte, whilst at wudu there will be no real pause and the point will merely indicate the end of the measure.
According to this system, the pause at secg will be twice as long as the one at sōhte, while at wudu there will be no actual pause, and the point will just signal the end of the measure.
Others reverted to the view of Bartsch and Schubert that there could be hemistichs with only three accents alongside of the hemistichs with the normal number of four. Among these may be mentioned H. Hirt,[28] whose view is that three beats to a hemistich is the normal number, four being less usual, the long line having thus mostly six beats, against the eight of Lachmann’s theory; K. Fuhr,[29] who holds that every hemistich, whether it stands first or second in the verse, has four beats if the last syllable is unaccented (klingend; in that case the final unaccented syllable receives a secondary rhythmical accent, for example, fḗond máncýnnès) and has three beats if it is accented (stumpf, for example, fýrst fórð gewā́t, or múrnénde mṓd, &c.); and B. ten Brink,[30] who calls the hemistichs with four beats full or ‘complete’ (e.g. hȳ́ràn scóldè, but admits hemistichs with three beats only, calling them ‘incomplete’ from the want of a secondary accent (e.g. twélf wíntra tī́d, hā́m gesṓhte, &c.). The four-beat theory was reverted to by M. Kaluza, who endeavours to reconcile it with the results of Sievers and others.[31] A somewhat similar view is taken by R. Kögel.[32] Trautmann[33] takes Amelung’s view that certain words and syllables must be lengthened in order to get the four accented syllables necessary for each hemistich. Thus, according to Trautmann’s scansion,
Others returned to the perspective of Bartsch and Schubert that there could be hemistichs with only three beats alongside those with the usual four. Notable among these are H. Hirt,[28] who believes that three beats per hemistich is standard, with four being less common, resulting in a long line typically having six beats, compared to the eight in Lachmann's theory; K. Fuhr,[29] who argues that every hemistich, whether it appears first or second in the verse, has four beats if the last syllable is unaccented (klingend; in this case, the final unaccented syllable gets a secondary rhythmic accent, for example, fḗond máncýnnès) and has three beats if it is accented (stumpf, for instance, fýrst fórð gewā́t, or múrnénde mṓd, etc.); and B. ten Brink,[30] who refers to the hemistichs with four beats as full or 'complete' (e.g. hȳ́ràn scóldè, but acknowledges the existence of hemistichs with three beats, labeling them 'incomplete' due to the lack of a secondary accent (e.g. twélf wíntra tī́d, hā́m gesṓhte, etc.). M. Kaluza returned to the four-beat theory and attempts to reconcile it with the findings of Sievers and others.[31] A somewhat similar opinion is held by R. Kögel.[32] Trautmann[33] supports Amelung’s view that certain words and syllables need to be lengthened to achieve the four accented syllables required for each hemistich. Thus, according to Trautmann’s scansion,
would run ×́×|×́×|×́×|⏑́× and
would run ×́×|×́×|×́×|⏑́× and
would also have the formula ×́×|×́×|×́×|⏑́×,
would also have the formula ×́×|×́×|×́×|⏑́×,
ond being protracted to two units. Another instance of this lengthening would, on this theory, occur in the final syllable of the word radores in the hemistich únder rádorès rýne, while in a section like gūð-rinc monig, or of fold-grǽfe, the words rinc and of would be extended to two, and gūð and fold would each be extended to four units, in order to fit in with the scansion ×́×|×́×|×́×|⏑́×. Most of the partisans of the four-beat theory for the hemistich agree in making two of these beats primary, and two secondary; Trautmann, however, does not seem to recognize any such difference in the force of the four accents. All the supporters of the four-beat theory have this in common, that the rhythm of the verse is assumed to be based on time (taktierend), but in other respects differ widely from each other; Hirt, for example, in his last discussion of the subject,[34] claiming that his own view is fundamentally different from that of Kaluza, which again he looks on as at variance with those of Möller and Heusler.
ond being extended to two units. Another example of this lengthening would, according to this theory, occur in the final syllable of the word radores in the hemistich únder rádorès rýne, while in a section like gūð-rinc monig or of fold-grǽfe, the words rinc and of would be stretched to two, and gūð and fold would each be stretched to four units to match the scansion ×́×|×́×|×́×|⏑́×. Most supporters of the four-beat theory for the hemistich agree on making two of these beats primary and two secondary; however, Trautmann does not seem to recognize any difference in the strength of the four accents. All proponents of the four-beat theory share the belief that the rhythm of the verse is based on time (taktierend), but they differ significantly in other respects; for instance, Hirt, in his latest discussion on the topic, claiming that his own perspective is fundamentally different from Kaluza's, which he believes is at odds with those of Möller and Heusler.
§ 17. The two-beat theory, on the other hand, is that each of the two hemistichs of the alliterative line need have only two accented syllables. In England this view was taken by two sixteenth-century writers on verse, George Gascoigne[35] who quotes the line,
§ 17. The two-beat theory, on the other hand, is that each of the two halves of the alliterative line only needs to have two stressed syllables. In England, this idea was supported by two sixteenth-century writers on poetry, George Gascoigne[35] who quotes the line,
giving as the accentual scheme ` ´ ` ` ´ ` ´ ` ` ´; and by King James VI, whose example is—
giving as the accentual scheme ` ´ ` ` ´ ` ´ ` ` ´; and by King James VI, whose example is—
In 1765, Percy, in his Essay on Pierce Plowman’s Visions, pointed out ‘that the author of this poem will not be found to have invented any new mode of versification, as some have supposed, but only to have retained that of the old Saxon and Gothick poets, which was probably never wholly laid aside, but occasionally used at different intervals’. After quoting[37] two Old Norse, he gives two Old English verses:—
In 1765, Percy, in his Essay on Pierce Plowman’s Visions, noted that "the author of this poem didn't create any new style of verse, as some have believed, but simply stuck to the form used by the old Saxon and Gothic poets, which probably was never completely abandoned, just used at various times." After quoting[37] two Old Norse lines, he provides two Old English verses:—
he continues: ‘Now if we examine the versification of Pierce Plowman’s Visions’ (from which he quotes the beginning—
he continues: ‘Now if we look at the verse structure of Pierce Plowman’s Visions’ (from which he quotes the starting—
‘we shall find it constructed exactly by these rules’, which are, in his own words, ‘that every distich [i.e. complete long line] should contain at least three words beginning with the same letter or sound; two of these correspondent sounds might be placed either in the first or second line of the distich, and one in the other, but all three were not regularly to be crowded into one line.’ He then goes on to quote further specimens of alliterative verse from Pierce the Ploughman’s Crede, The Sege of Jerusalem, The Chevalere Assigne, Death and Liffe and Scottish Fielde, which latter ends with a rhyming couplet:
‘We will find it structured exactly according to these rules,’ which are, in his own words, ‘that every couplet [i.e. complete long line] should have at least three words starting with the same letter or sound; two of these corresponding sounds could be in either the first or second line of the couplet, and one in the other, but all three shouldn’t be crammed into one line.’ He then continues to quote more examples of alliterative verse from Pierce the Ploughman’s Crede, The Sege of Jerusalem, The Chevalere Assigne, Death and Liffe, and Scottish Fielde, the latter of which ends with a rhyming couplet:
Taken as a whole his dissertation on the history of alliterative verse is remarkably correct, and his final remarks are noteworthy:
Taken as a whole, his dissertation on the history of alliterative verse is remarkably accurate, and his concluding remarks are notable:
Thus we have traced the alliterative measure so low as the sixteenth century. It is remarkable that all such poets as used this kind of metre, retained along with it many peculiar Saxon idioms, particularly such as were appropriated to poetry: this deserves the attention of those who are desirous to recover the laws of the ancient Saxon poesy, usually given up as inexplicable: I am of opinion that they will find what they seek in the metre of Pierce Plowman. About the beginning of the sixteenth century this kind of versification began to change its form; the author of Scottish Field, we see, concludes his poem with a couplet of rhymes; this was an innovation[38] that did but prepare the way for the general admission of that more modish ornament. When rhyme began to be superadded, all the niceties of alliteration were at first retained with it: the song of Little John Nobody exhibits this union very closely.... To proceed; the old uncouth verse of the ancient writers would no longer go down without the more fashionable ornament of rhyme, and therefore rhyme was superadded. This correspondence of final sounds engrossing the whole attention of the poet and fully satisfying the reader, the internal imbellishment of alliteration was no longer studied, and thus was this kind of metre at length swallowed up and lost in our common burlesque alexandrine, now never used but in songs and pieces of low humour, as in the following ballad; and that well-known doggrel:
So, we've traced the alliterative style down to the sixteenth century. It's interesting that all the poets who used this type of meter kept many unique Saxon phrases, especially those suited for poetry: this deserves attention from anyone looking to uncover the rules of ancient Saxon poetry, which are usually considered too complex: I believe they'll find what they're searching for in the meter of Pierce Plowman. Around the beginning of the sixteenth century, this type of verse began to change. The author of Scottish Field, for instance, wraps up his poem with a rhyming couplet; this was a new trend[38] that set the stage for the widespread use of that more fashionable style. When rhyme was added, the details of alliteration were initially kept alongside it: the song of Little John Nobody shows this combination very well.... Moving on, the old awkward verse of ancient writers could no longer be accepted without the more modern addition of rhyme, and so rhyme was included. This focus on matching sounds captivated the poet's attention and fully satisfied the reader, so the inner beauty of alliteration was no longer prioritized, and eventually, this type of meter got lost in our common humorous alexandrine, which is now only used in songs and light-hearted pieces, as seen in the following ballad, and that familiar doggerel:
‘A cobler there was and he lived in a stall’.
‘There was a cobbler who lived in a small shop.’
Now it is clear that this verse is of exactly the same structure as the verses quoted by Gascoigne:
Now it’s clear that this verse has the exact same structure as the verses quoted by Gascoigne:
where the scheme of accents is Gascoigne’s own, showing that he read them as verses of four accents in all, two in each hemistich. They show the same rhythmical structure as the ‘tumbling’ or alliterative line given by James VI[39] (1585):
where the pattern of accents is Gascoigne’s own, indicating that he viewed them as lines of four accents overall, two in each half-line. They exhibit the same rhythmic structure as the ‘tumbling’ or alliterative line presented by James VI[39] (1585):
and described by him as having ‘twa [feit, i.e. syllables] short, and ane lang throuch all the lyne’, in other words with four accented syllables in the verse.
and described by him as having ‘two [feet, i.e. syllables] short, and one long throughout the line’, in other words with four accented syllables in the verse.
Percy detected very acutely that the Middle English alliterative line stood in close connexion with the Old English alliterative line, and suggested as highly probable that the metre of Pierce Plowman would give a key to the rhythm of that older form of verse, which would have to be read with two accented syllables in the hemistich, and therefore four in the whole line.
Percy noticed that the Middle English alliterative line was closely linked to the Old English alliterative line, and he strongly suggested that the meter of Pierce Plowman could provide insight into the rhythm of that earlier form of verse, which needed to be read with two accented syllables in the half-line, and therefore a total of four in the whole line.
Had this essay of Percy’s been known to Lachmann’s followers, many of the forced attempts at reconciling the Old English verse with a scheme that involved a fixed number of syllables in the line would not have been made. Lachmann himself, it must be remembered, admitted the two-beat scansion for Old Norse, Old Saxon, and Old English. Meanwhile other investigators were at work on independent lines. In 1844 A. Schmeller, the editor of the Heliand, formulated the law that, in the Teutonic languages, it is the force with which the different syllables are uttered that regulates the rhythm of the verse, and not the number or length of the syllables (which are of minor importance), and established the fact that this alliterative verse was not meant to be sung but to be recited.[40] He does not enter into the details of the rhythm of the verse, except by pointing out the two-beat cadence of each section. Somewhat later, W. Wackernagel[41] declared himself in favour of the two-beat theory for all Teutonic alliterative verse. In every hemistich of the verse there are according to Wackernagel two syllables with a grammatical or logical emphasis, and consequently a strong accent, the number of less strongly accented syllables not being fixed. The two-beat theory was again ably supported by F. Vetter[42] and by K. Hildebrand, who approached the subject by a study of the Old Norse alliterative verse,[43] and by M. Rieger in his instructive essay on Old Saxon and Old English versification.[44] In this essay Rieger pointed out the rules prevailing in the poetry of those two closely related Teutonic nations, dealt with the distribution and quality of the alliteration, the relation of the alliteration to the noun, adjective, and verb, and to the order of words, with the caesura and the close of the verse, and, finally, with the question of the accented syllables and the limits of the use of unaccented syllables.[45] Other scholars, as Horn, Ries, and Sievers, contributed further elucidations of the details of this metre on the basis of Rieger’s researches.[46]
Had Percy’s essay been known to Lachmann’s followers, many of the forced attempts to reconcile Old English verse with a fixed number of syllables in the line wouldn’t have happened. Lachmann himself, it’s important to remember, accepted the two-beat scansion for Old Norse, Old Saxon, and Old English. Meanwhile, other researchers were exploring independent paths. In 1844, A. Schmeller, the editor of the Heliand, stated that in the Teutonic languages, it’s the force with which different syllables are pronounced that controls the rhythm of the verse, not the number or length of the syllables (which are of minor importance), and he established that this alliterative verse was meant to be recited, not sung. He doesn’t dive into the details of the rhythm, except to highlight the two-beat cadence of each section. A little later, W. Wackernagel[41] supported the two-beat theory for all Teutonic alliterative verse. According to Wackernagel, each hemistich of the verse has two syllables with grammatical or logical emphasis, and thus a strong accent, while the number of less strongly accented syllables is not fixed. The two-beat theory was further backed by F. Vetter[42] and K. Hildebrand, who approached the topic by studying Old Norse alliterative verse,[43] and by M. Rieger in his informative essay on Old Saxon and Old English versification.[44] In this essay, Rieger highlighted the rules in the poetry of those two closely related Teutonic nations, addressed the distribution and quality of alliteration, the relationship of alliteration to nouns, adjectives, and verbs, and to word order, along with the caesura and the end of the verse, and finally, the issue of accented syllables and the limitations on using unaccented syllables.[45] Other scholars, like Horn, Ries, and Sievers, provided additional clarifications on the details of this meter based on Rieger’s research.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
Next to Rieger’s short essay the most important contribution made to the accurate and scientific study of alliterative verse was that made by Sievers in his article on the rhythm of the Germanic alliterative verse.[47] In this he shows, to use his own words, ‘that a statistical classification of groups of words with their natural accentuation in both sections of the alliterative line makes it clear that this metre, in spite of its variety, is not so irregular as to the unaccented syllables at the beginning or in the middle of the verse as has been commonly thought, but that it has a range of a limited number of definite forms which may be all reduced to five primary types.’ These five types or chief variations in the relative position of the accented and unaccented syllables are, as Sievers points out, of such a nature and so arbitrarily combined in the verse, that they cannot possibly be regarded as symmetrical feet of a line evenly measured and counted by the number of syllables. ‘The fundamental principle, therefore, of the structure of the alliterative line, as we find it in historical times, is that of a free change of rhythm which can only be understood if the verse was meant to be recited, not to be sung.’[48] Soon after the publication of Sievers’s essay on the rhythm of the Germanic verse, the first part of which contained a complete classification of all the forms of the line occurring in Beowulf, other scholars applied his method and confirmed his results by examining in detail the other important Old English texts; Luick dealt with Judith,[49] Frucht with the poems of Cynewulf,[50] and Cremer with Andreas, &c.[51] Sievers himself, after contributing to the pages of Paul’s Grundriss der germanischen Philologie a concise account of his theories and results, expounded them in greater detail in his work on Old Germanic Metre[52] in which he emphasizes the fact that his five-type theory cannot properly be called a theory at all, but is simply an expression of the rules of the alliterative verse obtained by a statistical method of observation. In spite of the criticisms of his opponents, Möller, Heusler, Hirt, Fuhr, and others, he maintained his former views. In principle these views are in conformity with the manner of reading or scanning the alliterative verse explained by English writers on the subject from the sixteenth century downwards, though their terminology naturally is not the same as Sievers’s. We may, therefore, accept them on the whole as sound.
Next to Rieger’s short essay, the most significant contribution to the accurate and scientific study of alliterative verse was made by Sievers in his article about the rhythm of Germanic alliterative verse.[47] In this, he demonstrates, in his own words, ‘that a statistical classification of groups of words with their natural accentuation in both sections of the alliterative line makes it clear that this meter, despite its variety, is not as irregular regarding the unaccented syllables at the beginning or in the middle of the verse as has commonly been thought, but that it has a limited range of definite forms which can all be reduced to five primary types.’ These five types or main variations in the relative position of the accented and unaccented syllables are, as Sievers notes, structured and combined in such a way that they cannot be seen as symmetrical feet of a line evenly measured and counted by the number of syllables. ‘The fundamental principle, therefore, of the structure of the alliterative line, as we find it in historical times, is that of a free change of rhythm, which can only be understood if the verse was meant to be recited, not sung.’[48] Soon after Sievers’s essay on the rhythm of the Germanic verse was published, the first part of which included a complete classification of all the forms of the line found in Beowulf, other scholars applied his method and confirmed his findings by examining in detail other significant Old English texts; Luick worked on Judith,[49] Frucht focused on the poems of Cynewulf,[50] and Cremer analyzed Andreas, &c.[51] Sievers himself, after contributing a concise account of his theories and results to the pages of Paul’s Grundriss der germanischen Philologie, explained them in greater detail in his work on Old Germanic Metre[52] where he emphasizes that his five-type theory cannot truly be called a theory but is simply a representation of the rules of the alliterative verse obtained through a statistical method of observation. Despite critiques from his opponents, Möller, Heusler, Hirt, Fuhr, and others, he maintained his previous views. In principle, these views align with the way of reading or scanning the alliterative verse explained by English writers on the topic from the sixteenth century onward, although their terminology is naturally different from Sievers’s. Therefore, we can generally accept these views as valid.
It would be out of place here to enter into the question of prehistoric forms of Teutonic poetry. It will be enough to say that in Sievers’s opinion a primitive form of this poetry was composed in strophes or stanzas, intended to be sung and not merely to be recited; that at a very early period this sung strophic poetry gave way to a recited stichic form suitable to epic narrations; and that his five-type forms are the result of this development. As all the attempts to show that certain Old English poems were originally composed in strophic form[53] have proved failures, we may confidently assent to Sievers’s conclusion that the alliterative lines (as a rule) followed one upon another in unbroken succession, and that in historic times they were not composed in even and symmetrical measures (taktierend), and were not meant to be sung to fixed tunes.
It wouldn’t be appropriate to dive into the topic of ancient forms of Teutonic poetry here. It’s enough to mention that, according to Sievers, a primitive version of this poetry was created in strophes or stanzas meant to be sung rather than just recited. At a very early stage, this sung strophic poetry was replaced by a recited stichic form that suited epic storytelling; his five-type forms are a result of this evolution. Since all attempts to prove that certain Old English poems were originally written in strophic form[53]have failed, we can confidently agree with Sievers’s conclusion that the alliterative lines generally followed one another in an unbroken sequence, and that in historic times they were not composed in even and symmetrical measures (taktierend), nor were they intended to be sung to fixed melodies.
The impossibility of assuming such symmetrical measures for the Old English poetry is evident from the mere fact that the end of the line does not as a rule coincide with the end of the sentence, as would certainly be the case had the lines been arranged in staves or stanzas meant for singing. The structure of the alliterative line obeys only the requirements of free recitation and is built up of two hemistichs which have a rhythmical likeness to one another resulting from the presence in each of two accented syllables, but which need not have, and as a matter of fact very rarely have, complete identity of rhythm, because the number and situation of the unaccented syllables may vary greatly in the two sections.
The impossibility of applying such symmetrical measures to Old English poetry is clear from the simple fact that, as a rule, the end of the line doesn’t align with the end of the sentence, which would certainly happen if the lines were organized into staves or stanzas meant for singing. The structure of the alliterative line only follows the needs of free recitation and consists of two hemistichs that have a rhythmic similarity due to the presence of two accented syllables in each, but they don’t need to have complete rhythmic identity—and in fact, they rarely do—because the number and placement of unaccented syllables can vary greatly between the two sections.
In simple polysyllables the chief or primary accent, in this work marked by an acute (´), is as a rule on the root-syllable, and the inflexional and other elements of the word have a less marked accent varying from a secondary accent, here marked by a grave (`), to the weakest grade of accent, which is generally left unmarked: thus wúldor, héofon, wī́tig, wúnode, ǽðelingas, &c.
In simple polysyllabic words, the main stress, marked in this work with an acute (´), is usually placed on the root syllable, while the inflectional and other parts of the word carry less distinct stress, varying from a secondary stress, marked with a grave (`), to the weakest level of stress, which is usually unmarked: thus wúldor, héofon, wī́tig, wúnode, ǽðelingas, etc.
In the alliterative line, as a general rule, only syllables with the chief accent carry either the alliterating sounds or the four rhythmical accents of the verse. All other syllables, even those with secondary accent, count ordinarily as the ‘theses’ (Senkungen) of the verse[54]:
In an alliterative line, generally speaking, only the syllables with the main stress carry either the alliterative sounds or the four rhythmic beats of the verse. All other syllables, including those with a secondary stress, usually count as the ‘theses’ (Senkungen) of the verse[54]:
In compound words (certain combinations with unaccented prefixes excepted) the first element of the compound (which modifies or determines the meaning of the second element) has the primary accent, the second element having only a secondary accent, e.g. wúldor-cỳning, hḗah-sètl, sṓð-fæ̀st.[55] If therefore the compound has, as is mostly the case, only one alliterative sound, that alliteration must necessarily fall on the first part of the compound:
In compound words (except for certain combinations with unaccented prefixes), the first part of the compound (which modifies or defines the meaning of the second part) gets the main emphasis, while the second part has only a secondary emphasis, e.g. wúldor-cỳning, hḗah-sètl, sṓð-fæ̀st.[55] If the compound only has one alliterative sound, that alliteration must fall on the first part of the compound:
Sometimes it happens that in hemistichs of no great length the second part of the compound carries one of the two rhythmical accents of the hemistich, e.g.
Sometimes, in short lines, the second part of the compound carries one of the two rhythmic accents of the line, for example.
and in a particular form of alliteration[56] it may even contain one of the alliterating sounds, as in the verse:
and in a specific form of alliteration[56] it might even include one of the alliterating sounds, as in the line:
The less strongly accented derivational and inflexional suffixes, though they are not allowed to alliterate, may occasionally have the rhythmical accent, on condition that they immediately follow upon a long accented syllable, e.g.
The less strongly accented derivational and inflectional suffixes, even though they can't alliterate, may sometimes have the rhythmic accent if they come right after a long accented syllable, e.g.
The rhythmical value of syllables with a secondary accent will be considered more fully later on.
The rhythmic value of syllables with a secondary accent will be discussed in more detail later on.
These general rules for the accent of compound words formed of noun + noun or adjective + noun require modification for the cases where a prefix (adverb or preposition) stands in close juxtaposition with a verb or noun. The preposition standing before and depending on a noun coalesces so closely with it that the two words express a single notion, the noun having the chief accent, e.g. onwég, āwég (away), ætsómne (together), ofdū́ne (down), toníhte (to-night), onmíddum (amid); examples in verse are:
These general rules for the accent of compound words made up of noun + noun or adjective + noun need adjustment in cases where a prefix (adverb or preposition) is closely placed next to a verb or noun. The preposition that comes before and relates to a noun blends so closely with it that the two words convey a single idea, with the noun carrying the main stress, e.g. onwég, āwég (away), ætsómne (together), ofdū́ne (down), toníhte (tonight), onmíddum (amid); examples in verse are:
But while the prepositional prefix thus does not carry the alliteration owing to its want of accent, some of the adverbs used in composition are accented, others are unaccented, and others again may be treated either way. When the adverbial prefix originally stood by itself side by side with the verb, and may in certain cases still be disjoined from it, it has then the primary accent, because it is felt as a modifying element of the compound. When, however, the prefix and the verb have become so intimately united as to express one single notion, the verb takes the accent and the prefix is treated as proclitic, and there is a third class of these compounds which are used indifferently with accent on the prefix or on the verb.
But while the prepositional prefix doesn't carry the alliteration due to its lack of accent, some of the adverbs used in combination are accented, others are unaccented, and some can be treated either way. When the adverbial prefix originally stood alone next to the verb, and may still be separated from it in some cases, it has the primary accent because it’s seen as a modifying part of the compound. However, when the prefix and the verb become so closely linked that they express one single idea, the verb takes the accent and the prefix is treated as unstressed. There’s also a third group of these compounds that can be used with the accent on either the prefix or the verb.
Some of the commonest prefixes used in alliteration are[57]: and, æfter, eft, ed, fore, forð, from, hider, in, hin, mid, mis, niðer, ongēan, or, up, ūt, efne, as in compounds like ándswarian, íngong, ǽfterweard, &c.:
Some of the most common prefixes used in alliteration are[57]: and, after, aft, ed, before, forth, from, hider, in, hin, mid, mis, down, against, or, up, out, exactly, as in compounds like answering, incoming, afterward, &c.:
Prefixes which do not take the alliteration are: ā, ge, for, geond, oð, e.g.
Prefixes that don’t use alliteration are: ā, ge, for, geond, oð, e.g.
The following fluctuate: æt, an, bī (big), bi (be), of, ofer, on, tō, under, þurh, wið, wiðer, ymb. These are generally accented and alliterate, if compounded with substantives or adjectives, but are not accented and do not alliterate if compounded with verbs or other particles,[58] e.g. óferhēah, óferhȳd, but ofercúman, oferbī́dan. The following lines will illustrate this:
The following words change: æt, an, bī (big), bi (be), of, ofer, on, tō, under, þurh, wið, wiðer, ymb. These are usually accented and alliterate when combined with nouns or adjectives, but they are not accented and do not alliterate when combined with verbs or other particles, e.g. óferhēah, óferhȳd, but ofercúman, oferbī́dan. The following lines will show this:
(a) prefixes which alliterate:
a prefixes that alliterate:
(b) prefixes which do not alliterate:
(b) prefixes that don't rhyme:
When prepositions precede other prepositions or adverbs in composition, the accent rests on that part of the whole compound which is felt to be the most important. Such compounds fall into three classes: (i) if a preposition or adverb is preceded by the prepositions be, on, tō, þurh, wið, these latter are not accented, since they only slightly modify the sense of the following adverb. Compounds of this kind are: beǣ́ftan, befóran, begéondan, behíndan, beínnan, benéoðan, búfan, bútan, onúfan, onúppan, tōfóran, wiðínnan, wiðū́tan, undernéoðan.[60] Only the second part of the compound is allowed to alliterate in these words:
When prepositions come before other prepositions or adverbs in combinations, the emphasis is placed on the part of the compound that is considered most significant. These combinations fall into three categories: (i) if a preposition or adverb is preceded by the prepositions be, on, tō, þurh, wið, those earlier ones are not emphasized, as they only slightly alter the meaning of the following adverb. Examples of these types of compounds include: beǣ́ftan, befóran, begéondan, behíndan, beínnan, benéoðan, búfan, bútan, onúfan, onúppan, tōfóran, wiðínnan, wiðū́tan, undernéoðan.[60] Only the second part of the compound can alliterate in these words:
Most of these words do not seem to occur in the poetry.
Most of these words don’t appear to show up in the poetry.
(ii) In compounds of þǣr + preposition the preposition is accented and takes the alliteration:
(ii) In combinations of þǣr + preposition, the preposition is emphasized and carries the alliteration:
(iii) weard, as in æfterweard, foreweard, hindanweard, niðerweard, ufeweard, &c., is not accented:
(iii) weard, as in æfterweard, foreweard, hindanweard, niðerweard, ufeweard, etc., is not accented:
(i) In all compounds of noun + noun, or adjective + noun, or adjective + adjective, the second element of the compound has the subordinate accent, e.g. hēah-sètl, gū́ð-rinc, hríng-nèt, sṓð-fæ̀st. Syllables with this secondary accent are necessary in certain cases as links between the arsis and thesis, as in forms like þégn Hrṓðgā̀res (–́|–́×̀×) or fýrst fórð gewā̀t (–́|–́××̀).
(i) In all combinations of noun + noun, or adjective + noun, or adjective + adjective, the second part of the combination has a subordinate accent, for example, hēah-sètl, gū́ð-rinc, hríng-nèt, sṓð-fæ̀st. Syllables with this secondary accent are important in certain cases as links between the arsis and thesis, as in forms like þégn Hrṓðgā̀res (–́|–́×̀×) or fýrst fórð gewā̀t (–́|–́××̀).
(ii) In proper names like Hrṓðgā̀r, Bḗowùlf, Hýgelā̀c, this secondary accent may sometimes count as one of the four chief metrical accents of the line, as in
(ii) In proper names like Hrṓðgā̀r, Bḗowùlf, Hýgelā̀c, this secondary accent can sometimes be considered one of the four main metrical accents of the line, as in
contrasted with
compared to
(iii) When the second element has ceased to be felt as a distinct part of the compound, and is little more than a suffix, it loses the secondary accent altogether; as hlā́ford, ǣ́ghwylc, ínwit, and the large class of words compounded with -līc and sum.
(iii) When the second element is no longer seen as a separate part of the compound and is barely more than a suffix, it completely loses the secondary accent; like hlā́ford, ǣ́ghwylc, ínwit, and the large group of words that are formed with -līc and sum.
(iv) In words of three syllables, the second syllable when long and following a long root-syllable with the chief accent, has, especially in the early stage of Old English, a well-marked secondary accent: thus, ǣ́rèsta, ṓðèrra, sémnìnga, éhtènde; the third syllable in words of the form ǽðelìnga gets the same secondary accent. This secondary accent can count as one of the four rhythmic accents of the line, e.g.
(iv) In three-syllable words, the second syllable, when it's long and follows a long root syllable that has the main stress, often has a clear secondary stress, especially in the early stages of Old English. For example, ǣ́rèsta, ṓðèrra, sémnìnga, éhtènde; the third syllable in words like ǽðelìnga also receives this secondary stress. This secondary stress can be counted as one of the four rhythmic stresses of the line, e.g.
Words of this class, not compounded, are comparatively rare, but compounds with secondary accent are frequent.
Words of this type, not combined, are relatively rare, but combinations with secondary stress are common.
These second syllables with a marked secondary accent in the best examples of Old English verse mostly form by themselves a member of the verse, i.e. are not treated as simple theses as in certain compositions of later date, e.g.
These second syllables with a strong secondary accent in the best examples of Old English poetry mostly stand alone as a part of the verse, meaning they aren't treated as simple beats like they are in some later works, for example.
(v) After a long root-syllable of a trisyllabic word a short second syllable (whether its vowel was originally short or long) may bear one of the chief accents of the line, e.g. bōcère, bíscòpe:
(v) After a long root syllable of a three-syllable word, a short second syllable (regardless of whether its vowel was originally short or long) can carry one of the main accents of the line, e.g. bōcère, bíscòpe:
or may stand in the thesis and be unaccented, as
or may stand in the thesis and be unaccented, as
This shows that in common speech these syllables had only a slight secondary accent.
This shows that in everyday language, these syllables had just a slight secondary accent.
(vi) Final syllables (whether long or short) are as a rule not accented even though a long root-syllable precede them.
(vi) Final syllables (whether long or short) usually aren’t stressed, even if a long root syllable comes before them.
The formative element i in the present stem of the second class of weak verbs always counts as a syllable when it follows a long root-syllable, thus fund-i-an, fund-i-ende not fund-yan, &c. In verbs with a short root-syllable it is metrically indifferent whether this i is treated as forming a syllable by itself or coalescing as a consonant with the following vowel, so that we may divide either ner-i-an, or ner-yan; in verbs of the first and third class the consonantal pronunciation was according to Sievers probably the usual one, hence neryan (nerian), lifyan (lifᵹan), but for verbs of the second class the syllable remained vocalic, thus þolian.[61]
The formative element i in the present stem of the second class of weak verbs always counts as a syllable when it follows a long root-syllable, so we have fund-i-an, fund-i-ende, not fund-yan, etc. In verbs with a short root-syllable, it doesn't really matter metrically whether this i is considered a separate syllable or blends with the next vowel, allowing us to divide it as ner-i-an or ner-yan; for first and third class verbs, Sievers likely suggests the consonantal pronunciation was more common, which is why we get neryan (nerian), lifyan (lifᵹan), but for second class verbs, the syllable stayed vocalic, so we have þolian.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
In foreign names like Assyria, Eusebius, the i is generally treated as a vowel, but in longer words possibly as a consonant, as Macedonya (Macedonia). As to the epenthetic vowels developed from a w, the question whether we are to pronounce gearowe or gearwe, bealowes or bealwes cannot be decided by metre. Syllabic l,m, n (l̥, m̥, n̥) following a short root-vowel lose their syllabic character, thus sĕtl, hræ̆gl, swĕfn are monosyllables, but er coming from original r as in wæter, leger may be either consonantal or vocalic. After a long root-syllable vocalic pronunciation is the rule, but occasionally words of this kind, as túngl, bṓsm, tā́cn, are used as monosyllables, and the l, m, and n are consonants. Hiatus is allowed; but in many cases elision of an unaccented syllable takes place, though no fixed rule can be laid down owing to the fluctuating number of unaccented syllables permissible in the hemistich or whole line. In some cases the metre requires us to expunge vowels which have crept into the texts by the carelessness of copyists, e.g. we must write ḗðles instead of ḗðeles, éngles instead of éngeles, dḗofles instead of dḗofeles, and in other cases we must restore the older and fuller forms such as ṓðerra for ṓðrā, eṓwere for ḗowre.[62] The resolution of long syllables with the chief accent in the arsis, and of long syllables with the secondary accent in the thesis, affects very greatly the number of syllables in the line. Instead of the one long syllable which as a rule bears one of the four chief accents of the verse, we not unfrequently meet with a short accented syllable plus an unaccented syllable either long or short (⏑́×́). This is what is termed the resolution of an accented syllable. A word accordingly like fároðe with one short accented syllable and two unaccented syllables has the same rhythmical value as fṓron with one long accented and one unaccented syllable, or a combination like se þe wæs is rhythmically equivalent to sécg wæs.
In foreign names like Assyria and Eusebius, the i is usually treated as a vowel, but in longer words, it might be treated as a consonant, like in Macedonya (Macedonia). Regarding the extra vowels that come from a w, we can't decide whether to pronounce it as gearowe or gearwe, bealowes or bealwes just based on the meter. Syllabic l, m, and n (l̥, m̥, n̥) that follow a short root vowel lose their syllabic nature, so sĕtl, hræ̆gl, and swĕfn are monosyllabic, but er coming from the original r, as in wæter and leger, can be either consonantal or vocalic. After a long root syllable, the vocalic pronunciation is generally the rule, but sometimes words like túngl, bṓsm, and tā́cn are used as monosyllables, treating l, m, and n as consonants. Hiatus is allowed; however, in many cases, unaccented syllables are dropped, though there's no strict rule due to the varying number of allowable unaccented syllables in the half-line or entire line. Sometimes, the meter requires us to remove vowels that crept into the texts due to careless copying, so we should write ḗðles instead of ḗðeles, éngles instead of éngeles, and dḗofles instead of dḗofeles. In other instances, we need to restore older and fuller forms, such as ṓðerra for ṓðrā and eṓwere for ḗowre.[62] The resolution of long syllables with the main accent in the arsis, and long syllables with a secondary accent in the thesis, greatly affects the number of syllables in the line. Instead of the single long syllable, which usually has one of the four main accents of the verse, we often encounter a short accented syllable plus an unaccented syllable, which can be either long or short (⏑́×́). This is known as the resolution of an accented syllable. Therefore, a word like fároðe, with one short accented syllable and two unaccented syllables, has the same rhythmic value as fṓron, which has one long accented and one unaccented syllable, or a combination like se þe wæs is rhythmically equivalent to sécg wæs.
§ 21. We now come to the structure of the whole alliterative line. The regular alliterative line or verse is made up of two hemistichs or sections. These two sections are separated from each other by a pause or break, but united by means of alliteration so that they form a rhythmical unity. Each hemistich must have two syllables which predominate over the rest in virtue of their logical and syntactical importance and have on this account a stronger stress. These stressed syllables, four in number for the whole line, count as the rhythmical accents of the verse. The force given to these accented syllables is more marked when they carry at the same time the alliteration, which happens at least once in each hemistich, frequently twice in the first and once in the second hemistich, and in a number of instances twice in both hemistichs. The effect of the emphasis given to these four words or syllables by the syntax, etymology, rhythm, and sometimes alliteration, is that the other words and syllables may for metrical purposes be looked upon as in comparison unaccented, even though they may have a main or secondary word-accent.
§ 21. Now, let's discuss the structure of the entire alliterative line. The standard alliterative line or verse consists of two hemistichs or sections. These two sections are separated by a pause or break but are connected through alliteration, forming a rhythmic unity. Each hemistich must include two syllables that stand out due to their logical and grammatical significance, making them stressed more heavily. These four stressed syllables across the whole line serve as the rhythmic accents of the verse. The emphasis on these accented syllables is even stronger when they also carry the alliteration, which typically occurs at least once in each hemistich, often twice in the first and once in the second hemistich, and sometimes twice in both. The prominence of these four words or syllables, influenced by syntax, etymology, rhythm, and occasionally alliteration, allows the other words and syllables to be considered unaccented for metrical purposes, even if they carry a primary or secondary word accent.
In certain cases, in consequence of the particular structure of the hemistich, there is found a rhythmical secondary accent, generally coinciding with an etymological secondary accent, or with a monosyllable, or with the root-syllable of a disyllabic word. Sievers looks on these syllables as having in the rhythm of the verse the nature of a minor arsis (Nebenhebung); they rather belong to the class of syllables standing in thesis but with a slight degree of accent (tieftonige Senkung).
In some cases, due to the specific structure of the half-line, there’s a rhythmic secondary accent that usually aligns with an etymological secondary accent, a monosyllable, or the root syllable of a disyllabic word. Sievers considers these syllables to have the role of a minor arsis in the rhythm of the verse; they actually belong to the category of syllables positioned in thesis but with a slight degree of accent.
The two sections of the alliterative line rarely exhibit a strict symmetry as to the number of the unaccented syllables and their position with regard to the accented syllables. In the great majority of cases their similarity consists merely in their having each two accented syllables, their divergence in other respects being very considerable. It is to be noted that certain combinations of accented and unaccented syllables occur with more frequency in one hemistich than in the other, or are even limited to one of the two hemistichs only.
The two parts of the alliterative line rarely show a strict balance in terms of the number of unstressed syllables and their placement relative to the stressed syllables. In most cases, their similarity lies in both having two stressed syllables, while they differ significantly in other ways. It’s important to note that certain combinations of stressed and unstressed syllables appear more often in one half-line than the other, or may even be exclusive to just one of the two halves.
Besides the ordinary or normal alliterative line with four accents, there exists in Old English and in other West-Germanic poetry a variety of the alliterative line called the lengthened line (Schwellvers or Streckvers). In this line each hemistich has three accented syllables, the unaccented syllables standing in the same relation to the accented ones as they do in the normal two-beat hemistich.
Besides the regular alliterative line with four stressed beats, there is a type of alliterative line found in Old English and other West Germanic poetry called the lengthened line (Schwellvers or Streckvers). In this line, each half-line features three stressed syllables, with the unstressed syllables relating to the stressed ones in the same way they do in the typical two-beat half-line.
§ 22. The structure of the hemistich in the normal alliterative line. The normal hemistich consists of four, seldom of five members[63] (Glieder), two of which are strongly accented (arses), the others unaccented or less strongly accented (theses). Each arsis is formed, as a rule, of a long accented syllable (–́), but the second part of a compound, and (less frequently) the second syllable with a secondary accent of a trisyllabic or disyllabic word, is allowed to stand as an arsis. By resolution a long accented syllable may be replaced by two short syllables, the first of which is accented. This is denoted by the symbol ⏑́×. The less strongly accented members of the hemistich fall into two classes according as they are unaccented or have the secondary accent. This division depends ultimately on the logical or etymological importance of the syllables. Unaccented syllables (marked in Sievers’s notation by ×) whether long or short by etymology, are mostly inflexional endings, formative elements, or proclitic and enclitic words.
§ 22. The structure of the hemistich in the standard alliterative line. The standard hemistich is made up of four, and occasionally five, parts[63] (Glieder), with two of these being strongly accented (arses) and the others either unaccented or less strongly accented (theses). Typically, each arsis comprises a long accented syllable (–́), but the second part of a compound word, and (less frequently) the second syllable with a secondary accent in a trisyllabic or disyllabic word, can also function as an arsis. Through resolution, a long accented syllable can be substituted with two short syllables, with the first one being accented. This is indicated by the symbol ⏑́×. The less strongly accented parts of the hemistich are divided into two categories based on whether they are unaccented or carry a secondary accent. This classification ultimately relies on the logical or etymological significance of the syllables. Unaccented syllables (noted in Sievers’s notation as ×), regardless of being long or short etymologically, are mostly inflectional endings, formative elements, or proclitic and enclitic words.
Secondarily accented verse-members, mostly monosyllabic and long (denoted by ×̀, and occasionally, when short, by ⏑̀), are root-syllables in the second part of compounds, long second syllables of trisyllabic words whose root-syllable is long, and other syllables where in ordinary speech the presence of a secondary accent is unmistakable. The rhythmical value of these syllables with secondary accent is not always the same. When they stand in a foot or measure of two members and are preceded by an accented syllable they count as simply unaccented, and the foot is practically identical with the normal type represented by the notation –́× (as in the hemistich wī́sra wórda), but these half-accented syllables may be called heavy theses, and the feet which contain them may be denoted by the formula –́×̀, as in wí̄sfæ̀st wórdum (–́×̀|–́×). A hemistich like the last is called by Sievers strengthened (gesteigert), or if it has two heavy unaccented syllables in both feet, doubly strengthened, as in the section gū́ðrìnc góldwlànc (–́×̀|–́×̀). In these examples the occurrence of a heavy unaccented syllable is permissible but not necessary; but in feet or measures of three members they are obligatory, being required as an intermediate degree between the arsis and thesis, or strongly accented and unaccented member, as in þégn Hrṓðgā́res (–́|–́××̀), or fýrst fórð gewà̄t (–́|–́××̀), or hḗalǣ̀rna mǣ́st (–́×̀×|–́). In these cases Sievers gives the verse-member with this secondary accent the character of a subordinate arsis, or beat (Nebenhebung). But it is better, in view of the strongly marked two-beat swing of the hemistich, to look on such members with a secondary accent as having only the rhythmical value of unaccented syllables, and to call them theses with a slight accent. The two-beat rhythm of the hemistich is its main characteristic, for though the two beats are not always of exactly equal force[64] they are always prominently distinguished from the unaccented members of the hemistich, the rhythm of which would be marred by the introduction of an additional beat however slightly marked.
Secondary accented verse-members, mostly single-syllable and long (marked by ×̀, and occasionally marked as short with ⏑̀), serve as root syllables in the second part of compounds, long second syllables in three-syllable words with a long root syllable, and other syllables where a secondary accent is clearly present in normal speech. The rhythmic value of these syllables with a secondary accent isn't always the same. When they are part of a two-member foot or measure and follow an accented syllable, they are considered simply unaccented, making the foot almost identical to the normal pattern represented by the notation –́× (as in the hemistich wī́sra wórda), but these half-accented syllables may be referred to as heavy theses, and the feet that include them can be indicated using the formula –́×̀, as in wí̄sfæ̀st wórdum (–́×̀|–́×). A hemistich like this last one is referred to by Sievers as strengthened (gesteigert), or if it has two heavy unaccented syllables in both feet, it is called doubly strengthened, as in the section gū́ðrìnc góldwlànc (–́×̀|–́×̀). In these examples, having a heavy unaccented syllable is allowed but not mandatory; however, in feet or measures of three members, they are required as an intermediate level between the arsis and thesis, or strongly accented and unaccented elements, as in þégn Hrṓðgā́res (–́|–́××̀), or fýrst fórð gewà̄t (–́|–́××̀), or hḗalǣ̀rna mǣ́st (–́×̀×|–́). In these situations, Sievers characterizes the verse-member with this secondary accent as a subordinate arsis, or beat (Nebenhebung). However, due to the clearly marked two-beat swing of the hemistich, it's better to view these members with a secondary accent as having only the rhythmic value of unaccented syllables, and to label them as theses with a slight accent. The two-beat rhythm of the hemistich is its defining feature, because while the two beats may not always be of exactly equal strength[64] they are always distinctly differentiated from the unaccented members of the hemistich, whose rhythm would be disrupted by the addition of another beat, no matter how subtly marked.
Cases in which the two chief beats of the hemistich are not of exactly the same force occur when two accented syllables, either both with chief accent or one with chief and the other with secondary accent, stand in immediate juxtaposition, not separated by an unaccented syllable. The second of these two accented syllables may be a short syllable with chief accent, instead of a long syllable as is the rule. But in either case, whether long or short, this second beat following at once on the first beat is usually uttered with somewhat less force than the first, as can be seen from examples like gebū́n hǽfdon, Beow. 117; tō hā́m fáran, 121; mid ǣ́rdǽge, 126. The second beat rarely predominates over the first. The cause of this variation in the force of the two beats is to be sought in the laws of the syntactical accent.
Cases where the two main beats of a hemistich don't have exactly the same force happen when two stressed syllables, either both with primary accent or one with primary and the other with secondary accent, are placed right next to each other without an unstressed syllable in between. The second of these two stressed syllables can be a short syllable with primary accent instead of a long syllable, which is usually the case. However, in both situations, whether the second beat is long or short, it is typically pronounced with a bit less intensity than the first beat, as shown in examples like gebū́n hǽfdon, Beow. 117; tō hā́m fáran, 121; mid ǣ́rdǽge, 126. The second beat seldom overshadows the first. The reason for this variation in the intensity of the two beats lies in the rules of syntactical accent.
In other respects verse-members with a secondary accent obey the same laws as those with a primary accent. They usually consist of one long syllable, but if a member which has the arsis immediately precedes, a short syllable with a secondary accent may be substituted. Resolution of such verse members is rare, which shows that they are more closely related to the thesis than to the arsis of the hemistich. One unaccented syllable is sufficient to form the thesis (×), but the thesis may also have two or more unaccented syllables (××,×××..), their number increasing in proportion to their shortness and the ease with which they can be pronounced, provided always that no secondary accent intervenes. All of these unaccented syllables are reckoned together as one thesis, as against the accented syllable or arsis. The single components of such a longer thesis may exhibit a certain gradation of force when compared with one another, but this degree of force must never equal the force with which the arsis is pronounced, though we sometimes find that, owing to the varying character of the syntactical or sentence accent, a monosyllable which in one case stands in the thesis, may in another connexion bear the secondary or even the primary accent.
In other respects, verse members with a secondary accent follow the same rules as those with a primary accent. They usually consist of one long syllable, but if a member with the arsis comes right before it, a short syllable with a secondary accent can be used instead. It’s rare to break down these verse members, which indicates that they are more closely related to the thesis than to the arsis of the hemistich. One unaccented syllable is enough to form the thesis (×), but the thesis can also have two or more unaccented syllables (××,×××..), and their number increases as they become shorter and easier to pronounce, as long as no secondary accent gets in the way. All these unaccented syllables count as one thesis, in contrast to the accented syllable or arsis. The individual parts of a longer thesis may show a certain variation in strength compared to one another, but that level of strength should never match the strength of the arsis when pronounced. However, we sometimes find that due to the different nature of the syntactical or sentence accent, a monosyllable that serves as the thesis in one instance may, in another context, carry a secondary or even primary accent.
§ 23. The number of the unaccented syllables of the thesis was formerly believed to depend entirely on the choice of the individual poet.[65] Sievers first put this matter in its right light by the statistics of the metre.[66] He showed that the hemistich of the Old English alliterative line is similar to the Old Norse four-syllable verse, and is as a rule of a trochaic rhythm (–́×–́×). The proof of this is that in Beowulf, for instance, there are 592 hemistichs of the type –́×|–́× (as hȳ́ran scólde, 10), and that in the same text there are 238 of the type –́××|–́× (as gṓde gewýrcean, 20; hḗold þenden lī́fde, 57), making 830 hemistichs with trochaic or dactylic rhythm, as against eleven hemistichs of similar structure but with an unaccented syllable at the beginning, ×|–́×(×)|–́×, and even four or five of these eleven are of doubtful correctness. From these figures it seems almost beyond doubt that in the type –́×(×)|–́× the licence of letting the hemistich begin with an unaccented syllable before the first accented syllable was, generally speaking, avoided. On the other hand, when the first accented syllable is short with only one unaccented syllable as thesis (⏑́×), we find this initial unaccented syllable to be the rule, as genúmen hǽfdon Beow. 3167 (×|⏑́×|–́×), of which form there are 130 examples, while, as Rieger noticed, ⏑́×|–́× is rare, as in cýning mǣ́nan Beow. 3173. It is perhaps still more remarkable that while the form –́××|–́× occurs some 238 times, a verse of the form ×|⏑́××|–́× is never found at all. The numerical proportion of the form –́×|–́× (592 cases) to –́××|–́× (238 cases) is roughly 5 to 2, and that of ×|⏑́×|–́× (130 cases) to ×|⏑́××|–́× (no cases) is 130 to nothing. The quantity of the second arsis is, as bearing on the prefixing of unaccented syllables to the hemistich, much less important than the quantity of the first arsis. Hemistichs of the type –́×|⏑́× occur 34 times, and in 29 cases the last unaccented syllable is a full word, either a monosyllable or a part of a compound. The same type, with an initial unaccented syllable ×|–́×|⏑́× also occurs 34 times, but then the last syllable is quite unaccented. The proportion of the form –́×|–́× to the form ×|–́×|–́× is 592 to 11, and that of the form –́×|⏑́× to ×–́×|⏑́× is 34 to 34, a noticeable difference.
§ 23. The number of unaccented syllables in the thesis used to be thought to depend solely on the poet's choice.[65] Sievers clarified this with metrics statistics.[66] He demonstrated that the half-line of the Old English alliterative verse resembles the Old Norse four-syllable line and generally follows a trochaic rhythm (–́×–́×). The evidence for this can be seen in Beowulf, where there are 592 half-lines of the pattern –́×|–́× (as hȳ́ran scólde, 10), and 238 half-lines of the pattern –́××|–́× (as gṓde gewýrcean, 20; hḗold þenden lī́fde, 57), resulting in a total of 830 half-lines with trochaic or dactylic rhythm, compared to just eleven half-lines with a similar structure that have an unaccented syllable at the start, ×|–́×(×)|–́×, and even four or five of these eleven are questionable. From these numbers, it's almost certain that in the –́×(×)|–́× type, the practice of beginning the half-line with an unaccented syllable before the first accented syllable was generally avoided. On the other hand, when the first accented syllable is short with only one unaccented syllable as the thesis (⏑́×), we find that the initial unaccented syllable is the norm, as in genúmen hǽfdon Beow. 3167 (×|⏑́×|–́×), which has 130 examples, while, as Rieger pointed out, ⏑́×|–́× is rare, as seen in cýning mǣ́nan Beow. 3173. It is perhaps even more striking that while the form –́××|–́× appears around 238 times, a verse of the form ×|⏑́××|–́× is never found. The numeric ratio of the form –́×|–́× (592 cases) to –́××|–́× (238 cases) is roughly 5 to 2, and that of ×|⏑́×|–́× (130 cases) to ×|⏑́××|–́× (0 cases) is 130 to none. The quantity of the second arsis is less significant regarding adding unaccented syllables to the half-line than the quantity of the first arsis. Half-lines of the type –́×|⏑́× occur 34 times, and in 29 of those cases, the last unaccented syllable is a complete word, either a monosyllable or part of a compound. The same type, with an initial unaccented syllable ×|–́×|⏑́× also appears 34 times, but in those instances, the last syllable is completely unaccented. The ratio of the form –́×|–́× to ×|–́×|–́× is 592 to 11, and the ratio of the form –́×|⏑́× to ×–́×|⏑́× is 34 to 34, showing a notable difference.
Further, it was formerly supposed that the number of unaccented syllables following the accented syllable was indifferent. This is not the case. The form –́××|–́× is found 238 times, and the form –́×|–́×× only 22 times. Many of the examples of the latter form are doubtful, but even counting all these the proportion of the two forms is 11 to 1.
Further, it was previously thought that the number of unaccented syllables after the accented syllable didn't matter. This is not true. The pattern –́××|–́× appears 238 times, while the pattern –́×|–́×× shows up only 22 times. Many examples of the latter pattern are questionable, but even including all of them, the ratio of the two patterns is 11 to 1.
If the two accented syllables are not separated by an unaccented syllable, that is to say, if the two beats are in immediate juxtaposition, then either two unaccented syllables must stand after the second arsis, thus –́|–́×× (a form that occurs 120 times in Beowulf), or an unaccented syllable must precede the first arsis and one unaccented syllable must follow the second arsis, thus ×–́|–́× (127 times in Beowulf), or with the second arsis short ×–́|⏑́× (257 times); the form –́|–́× does not occur.
If the two accented syllables are not separated by an unaccented syllable, meaning that the two beats are right next to each other, then either two unaccented syllables must come after the second arsis, thus –́|–́×× (which appears 120 times in Beowulf), or one unaccented syllable must come before the first arsis and one unaccented syllable must follow the second arsis, thus ×–́|–́× (127 times in Beowulf), or with the second arsis being short ×–́|⏑́× (257 times); the form –́|–́× does not appear.
From these statistics it results that hemistichs of the form –́×|–́× are met with about 17 times to one occurrence of the form –́×|⏑́×, and that on the other hand, the form ×–́|⏑́× is about twice as frequent as ×–́|–́×.
From these statistics, it turns out that hemistichs in the form –́×|–́× appear about 17 times for every one occurrence of the form –́×|⏑́×. On the other hand, the form ×–́|⏑́× is about twice as common as ×–́|–́×.
§ 24. The order of the verse-members in the hemistich. Every hemistich consists of two feet or measures, each containing an accented syllable. Usually these two feet or measures together contain four verse members, seldom five. In the hemistich of four members, which first falls to be considered, the measures may consist of two members each (2+2), or one may contain one member and the other three (1+3 or 3+1). A measure of one member has a single accented syllable only (–́); a measure of two members has an accented and an unaccented syllable, which may stand either in the order –́× or ×–́; a measure of three members has one accented and two unaccented syllables, one of which has a secondary accent, and the order may be either –́×̀× or –́××̀. Measures of two members may be grouped in three different ways so as to form a hemistich: i. –́×|–́× (descending rhythm); ii. ×–́|×–́ (ascending); iii. ×–́|–́× (ascending-descending)[67]; i. and ii. are symmetrical, iii. is unsymmetrical, but as the number of members in the feet of these three types (2+2 members) is the same, we may call them, as Sievers does, types with equal feet (gleichfüssige Typen), while the others (1+3 members or 3+1 members) may be called types with unequal feet, or measures.
§ 24. The arrangement of the verse parts in the hemistich. Every hemistich is made up of two feet or measures, with each containing an accented syllable. Typically, these two feet or measures have four verse parts together, and rarely five. In a hemistich with four parts, which we’ll discuss first, the measures can either consist of two parts each (2+2), or one can have one part and the other three (1+3 or 3+1). A measure with one part has just a single accented syllable (–́); a measure with two parts has one accented and one unaccented syllable, which can appear in the order –́× or ×–́; a measure with three parts has one accented and two unaccented syllables, one of which gets a secondary accent, and the order can be either –́×̀× or –́××̀. Measures with two parts can be grouped in three different ways to create a hemistich: i. –́×|–́× (descending rhythm); ii. ×–́|×–́ (ascending); iii. ×–́|–́× (ascending-descending)[67]; i. and ii. are symmetrical, while iii. is unsymmetrical, but since the number of parts in the feet of these three types (2+2 parts) is the same, we can refer to them, as Sievers does, as types with equal feet (gleichfüssige Typen), while the others (1+3 parts or 3+1 parts) may be referred to as types with unequal feet or measures.
The normal hemistich, then, which consists of four verse-members, will fall, according to the relative position of these measures or feet, into the following five chief types:
The typical hemistich, which has four verse parts, will be categorized into the following five main types based on the arrangement of these measures or feet:
a. Types with equal feet (2+2 members)
a. Types with equal footing (2+2 members)
1. | A. | –́×|–́× double descending. |
2. | B. | ×–́|×–́ double ascending. |
3. | C. | ×–́|–́× ascending-descending. |
b. Types with unequal feet
Types with mismatched legs
4. | D. | { | –́|–́×̀× –́|–́××̀ | } | (1+3 members). |
5. | E. | { | –́×̀×|–́ –́××̀|–́ | } | (3+1 members). |
Theoretically type E might be looked on as a type with equal feet, if divided thus, –́×|×–́, but by far the greatest number of instances of this type show at the beginning of the hemistich one trisyllabic word which forbids such a division of feet, as wéorðmỳndum þā́h, Beow. 8.[68] Types like ××–́– and ×̀×–́–́, which we might expect to find, do not occur in Old English poetry. In addition to these ordinary four-membered hemistichs there are others lengthened by the addition of one syllable, which may be unaccented, or have the secondary accent. These extended forms (erweiterte Formen)[69] may be composed either of 2+3 members or of 3+2 members. These extended hemistichs must be carefully distinguished from the hemistichs which have one or more unaccented syllables before the first accented syllable, in types A, D, and E; such a prefix of one or more syllables is called an anacrusis (Auftakt).[70]
Theoretically, type E could be seen as a type with equal feet if divided like this, –́×|×–́, but most examples of this type begin with a trisyllabic word that prevents such a division of feet, as in wéorðmỳndum þā́h, Beow. 8.[68] Types like ××–́– and ×̀×–́–́, which we might expect, are not found in Old English poetry. Besides these standard four-part hemistichs, there are variations lengthened by the addition of one syllable, which may be unaccented or have a secondary accent. These extended forms (erweiterte Formen)[69] can be made up of either 2+3 members or 3+2 members. These extended hemistichs need to be carefully distinguished from hemistichs that have one or more unaccented syllables before the first accented syllable, in types A, D, and E; this prefix of one or more syllables is called an anacrusis (Auftakt).__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
The simple five types of the hemistich admit of variation: i. by extension (as above); ii. by resolution (⏑́× for –́) and shortening of the long accented syllable (⏑́); iii. by strengthening of thesis by means of a secondary accent (Steigerung); iv. by increase in the number of unaccented syllables forming the thesis; also (less frequently) v. by variation in the position of the alliteration, and vi. by the admission of anacruses; the varieties produced by the last-mentioned means are not sub-types but parallel forms to those without anacruses.
The five basic types of the hemistich can be varied in these ways: i. by extension (as mentioned above); ii. by resolution (⏑́× for –́) and shortening the long accented syllable (⏑́); iii. by strengthening the thesis with a secondary accent (Steigerung); iv. by increasing the number of unaccented syllables in the thesis; also (less often) v. by changing the position of the alliteration, and vi. by allowing anacruses; the variations created by the last method are not sub-types but parallel forms to those without anacruses.
In describing and analysing the different combinations which arise out of these means of variation, and especially the peculiar forms of the sub-types, the arrangement and nomenclature of Sievers will be followed.[71]
In describing and analyzing the various combinations that come from these means of variation, especially the unique forms of the sub-types, Sievers' arrangement and naming system will be followed.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
Analysis of the verse types.
I. Hemistichs of four members.
The sub-type A1 (–́×|–́×) is the normal form with alliteration of the first arsis in each hemistich, or with alliteration of both arses in the first hemistich and one in the second, and with syllables in the thesis which are unaccented according to the usual practice of the language; examples are, þḗodnes þêgnas An. 3, hȳ́ran scólde Beow. 106, gómban gýldan Beow. 11. This is the commonest of all the types; it occurs in Beowulf, according to Sievers, 471 times in the first and 575 times in the second hemistich, and with the like frequency in the other poems.
The sub-type A1 (–́×|–́×) is the standard form that features alliteration of the first beat in each half-line, or with alliteration of both beats in the first half-line and one in the second, along with syllables in the thesis that are unaccented based on the usual practice of the language. Examples include þḗodnes þêgnas An. 3, hȳ́ran scólde Beow. 106, and gómban gýldan Beow. 11. This is the most common of all the types; it appears in Beowulf, according to Sievers, 471 times in the first half-line and 575 times in the second half-line, and with similar frequency in the other poems.
The simplest modification of this type arises from the resolution of one or two long accented syllables. Examples of resolution of the first arsis are very numerous, cýninga wúldor El. 5, scéaðena þrḗatum Beow. 4, séofon niht swúncon Beow. 517,[72] níðer gewī́teð Beow. 1361. Examples of the resolution of the second arsis are less numerous, as wúldor cýninge El. 291, éllen frémedon Beow. 3, Scýldes éaferan Beow. 19, óft gefrémede Beow. 165; resolution of both in the same hemistich is rare, but is found, as gúmena géogoðe An. 1617, mǽgenes Déniga Beow. 155, gúmum ætgǽdere Beow. 1321.
The simplest change of this type comes from breaking down one or two long stressed syllables. There are many examples of the resolution of the first arsis, such as cýninga wúldor El. 5, scéaðena þrḗatum Beow. 4, séofon niht swúncon Beow. 517, [72] níðer gewī́teð Beow. 1361. There are fewer examples of the resolution of the second arsis, like wúldor cýninge El. 291, éllen frémedon Beow. 3, Scýldes éaferan Beow. 19, óft gefrémede Beow. 165; the resolution of both in the same hemistich is rare, but it can be found in gúmena géogoðe An. 1617, mǽgenes Déniga Beow. 155, gúmum ætgǽdere Beow. 1321.
The chief type is further modified by making the thesis after the first arsis disyllabic (rarely trisyllabic); the formula is then –́××|–×. This modification is frequent, as ríhta gehwýlces El. 910, gṓde gewýrcean Beow. 20, swéordum āswébban An. 72, súnnan ond mṓnan Beow. 94, fṓlce tō frṓfre Beow. 14, wḗox under wólcnum Beow. 8.
The main type is further altered by making the thesis after the first arsis two syllables (rarely three syllables); the pattern is then –́××|–×. This change happens often, as seen in ríhta gehwýlces El. 910, gṓde gewýrcean Beow. 20, swéordum āswébban An. 72, súnnan ond mṓnan Beow. 94, fṓlce tō frṓfre Beow. 14, wḗox under wólcnum Beow. 8.
Resolution of the arsis may be combined with this disyllabic thesis, as (in the first arsis) wérum on þām wónge An. 22, éotenas ond ýlfe Beow. 112, or (in the second arsis) hā́lig of héofenum An. 89, hélpe gefrémede Beow. 551, or (in both) dúguðe ond géoguðe Beow. 160, hǽleð under héofenum Beow. 52.
Resolution of the arsis can be combined with this two-syllable thesis, as (in the first arsis) wérum on þām wónge An. 22, éotenas ond ýlfe Beow. 112, or (in the second arsis) hā́lig of héofenum An. 89, hélpe gefrémede Beow. 551, or (in both) dúguðe ond géoguðe Beow. 160, hǽleð under héofenum Beow. 52.
The first thesis rarely exceeds two syllables; a thesis of three syllables is occasionally found, as sǽgde se þe cū́ðe Beow. 90, hwī́lum hie gehḗton Beow. 175, and this can be combined with resolution of the first arsis, as swéotulra ond gesȳ́nra An. 565, bítere ond gebólgne Beow. 1431; or with resolution of the second arsis, as ū́tan ymbe ǽðelne An. 873, wī́ge under wǽtere Beow. 1657; or with resolution of both, as réceda under róderum Beow. 310. Examples of thesis of four syllables are (in the first thesis) séalde þām þe hē wólde Beow. 3056, sécge ic þē tō sṓðe Beow. 591. A thesis with five syllables is still less common, as lǣ́ddon hine þā of lýfte Gū. 398, stṓpon þā tō þǣre stṓwe El. 716.
The first thesis rarely goes beyond two syllables; a three-syllable thesis can sometimes be found, like sǽgde se þe cū́ðe Beow. 90, hwī́lum hie gehḗton Beow. 175, and this can combine with the resolution of the first arsis, as in swéotulra ond gesȳ́nra An. 565, bítere ond gebólgne Beow. 1431; or with the resolution of the second arsis, like ū́tan ymbe ǽðelne An. 873, wī́ge under wǽtere Beow. 1657; or with the resolution of both, as in réceda under róderum Beow. 310. Examples of four-syllable theses are (in the first thesis) séalde þām þe hē wólde Beow. 3056, sécge ic þē tō sṓðe Beow. 591. A five-syllable thesis is even less common, such as lǣ́ddon hine þā of lýfte Gū. 398, stṓpon þā tō þǣre stṓwe El. 716.
The cases in which the second thesis has two syllables are rare and to some extent doubtful, as wúndor scḗawian Beow. 841 and 3033.[73]
The situations where the second thesis has two syllables are uncommon and somewhat questionable, like wúndor scḗawian Beow. 841 and 3033.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
The anacrusis before the type –́×(×)|–́× is also of rare occurrence: examples are swā sǣ́ bebū́geð Beow. 1224, or, with resolution of the first arsis, swā wǽter bebū́geð Beow. 93. Most of the instances occur in the first hemistich; in this position the anacrusis may be polysyllabic (extending sometimes to four syllables), sometimes with resolution of the arsis, or with polysyllabic thesis. Examples: forcṓm æt cámpe An. 1327, gewāt æt wī́ge Beow. 2630; with resolution, ābóden in búrgum An. 78; genéred wið nī́ðe Beow. 828; disyllabic anacrusis ic wæs éndesǣ́ta Beow. 241; with resolution, þǣr wæs hǽleða hléahtor Beow. 612; trisyllabic anacrusis, oððe him Óngenþḗowes Beow. 2475; four-syllable anacrusis, þæt we him þā gū́ðgeatwa Beow. 2637; monosyllabic anacrusis with disyllabic thesis, as in mǣ́gðe gehwǣ́re Beow. 25, āblénded in búrgum An. 78; disyllabic anacrusis with disyllabic thesis, ge æt hā́m ge on hérge Beow. 1249; trisyllabic anacrusis with disyllabic thesis, þū scealt þā fṓre gefḗran An. 216; monosyllabic anacrusis with trisyllabic thesis, gemúnde þā sē gṓda Beow. 759; monosyllabic anacrusis with resolution of first arsis and trisyllabic thesis, ne mágon hie ond ne mṓton An. 1217; with resolution of second arsis, gewā́t him þā tō wároðe Beow. 234; disyllabic anacrusis, ne geféah he þǣre fǣ́hðe Beow. 109; combined with thesis of four syllables, ofslṓh þā æt þǣre sǽcce Beow. 1666.
The anacrusis before the type –́×(×)|–́× is also quite rare: examples include swā sǣ́ bebū́geð Beow. 1224, or, with resolution of the first arsis, swā wǽter bebū́geð Beow. 93. Most of the cases occur in the first hemistich; in this position, the anacrusis can be polysyllabic (sometimes extending to four syllables), occasionally with resolution of the arsis, or with a polysyllabic thesis. Examples: forcṓm æt cámpe An. 1327, gewāt æt wī́ge Beow. 2630; with resolution, ābóden in búrgum An. 78; genéred wið nī́ðe Beow. 828; a disyllabic anacrusis, ic wæs én̄desǣ́ta Beow. 241; with resolution, þǣr wæs hǽleða hléahtor Beow. 612; a trisyllabic anacrusis, oððe him Óngenþḗowes Beow. 2475; four-syllable anacrusis, þæt we him þā gū́ðgeatwa Beow. 2637; a monosyllabic anacrusis with a disyllabic thesis, as in in mǣ́gðe gehwǣ́re Beow. 25, āblénded in búrgum An. 78; disyllabic anacrusis with a disyllabic thesis, ge æt hā́m ge on hérge Beow. 1249; trisyllabic anacrusis with a disyllabic thesis, þū scealt þā fṓre gefḗran An. 216; monosyllabic anacrusis with a trisyllabic thesis, gemúnde þā sē gṓda Beow. 759; monosyllabic anacrusis with resolution of the first arsis and a trisyllabic thesis, ne mágon hie ond ne mṓton An. 1217; with resolution of the second arsis, gewā́t him þā tō wároðe Beow. 234; a disyllabic anacrusis, ne geféah he þǣre fǣ́hðe Beow. 109; combined with a thesis of four syllables, ofslṓh þā æt þǣre sǽcce Beow. 1666.
The sub-type A2 is type A with strengthened thesis (i.e. a thesis with secondary accent) and with alliteration on the first arsis only. This sub-type has several varieties:
The sub-type A2 is type A with a stronger thesis (i.e., a thesis with a secondary emphasis) and alliteration occurring only on the first arsis. This sub-type has several variations:
(i) A2a, with the first thesis strengthened (–́×̀|–́×); frequent in the second hemistich. The second arsis may be either long or short (–́×̀|–́×, or –́×̀|⏑́×). We denote –́×̀|–́× by A2al and –́×̀|⏑́× by A2ash, or, for brevity, A2l, A2sh. Examples of A2l are, gódspèl ǣ́rest An. 12, wī́sfæ̀st wórdum Beow. 626, hríngnèt bǣ́ron Beow. 1890; with resolution of the first arsis, médusèld bū́an Beow. 3066; with resolution of the second arsis, gā́rsècg hlýnede An. 238, hórdbùrh hǽleða Beow. 467; with resolution of both, fréoðobùrh fǽgere Beow. 522; with resolution of the strengthened thesis, súndwùdu sṓhte Beow. 208; resolution of the first arsis and thesis, mǽgenwùdu múndum Beow. 236; resolution of the first thesis and the second arsis, gū́ðsèaro gúmena Beow. 328.
(i) A2, with the first thesis emphasized (–́×̀|–́×); common in the second half. The second arsis can be either long or short (–́×̀|–́×, or –́×̀|⏑́×). We refer to –́×̀|–́× as A2al and –́×̀|⏑́× as A2ash, or for short, A2l, A2sh. Examples of A2l include gódspèl ǣ́rest An. 12, wī́sfæ̀st wórdum Beow. 626, hríngnèt bǣ́ron Beow. 1890; with the first arsis resolved, médusèld bū́an Beow. 3066; with the second arsis resolved, gā́rsècg hlýnede An. 238, hórdbùrh hǽleða Beow. 467; with both resolved, fréoðobùrh fǽgere Beow. 522; with the strengthened thesis resolved, súndwùdu sṓhte Beow. 208; with the first arsis and thesis resolved, mǽgenwùdu múndum Beow. 236; with the first thesis and second arsis resolved, gū́ðsèaro gúmena Beow. 328.
Examples of A2sh are numerous, as wǣ́rfæ̀st cýning An. 416, gū́ðrìnc mónig Beow. 839, þrḗanȳ̀d þólað Beow. 284; it is exceptional to find the second arsis short when the thesis which precedes has no secondary accent, as Hrḗðel cýning Beow. 2436, Hrúnting náma Beow. 1458, ǽðeling bóren Beow. 2431; with resolution of the first arsis, séaronèt séowað An. 64, snótor cèorl mónig Beow. 909, sígerṑf cyning Beow. 619, mágodrìht micel Beow. 67, &c. Most of the hemistichs which fall under this head have double alliteration.
Examples of A2sh are numerous, such as wǣ́rfæ̀st cýning An. 416, gū́ðrìnc mónig Beow. 839, þrḗanȳ̀d þólað Beow. 284; it's rare to find the second arsis short when the thesis that comes before has no secondary accent, like Hrḗðel cýning Beow. 2436, Hrúnting náma Beow. 1458, ǽðeling bóren Beow. 2431; with the resolution of the first arsis, séaronèt séowað An. 64, snótor cèorl mónig Beow. 909, sígerṑf cyning Beow. 619, mágodrìht micel Beow. 67, and so on. Most of the hemistichs that fall into this category have double alliteration.
(ii) A2b, with the second thesis strengthened (–́×|–́×̀). Most of the cases of this type occur in the first hemistich; when they occur in the second hemistich the measure –́×̀ is usually a proper name, not a real compound. Examples: Gréndles gū́ðcræ̀ft Beow. 127, lḗofa Bḗowùlf Beow. 855; with resolution of the first arsis, gámol ond gūðrḕow Beow. 58; with resolution of the second arsis, béorna béaducræ̀ft An. 219; with resolution of both, séfa swā séarogrìm Beow. 595; with resolution of the strengthened thesis, lónd ond lḗodbỳrig Beow. 2472; with resolution of both the second arsis and thesis mǣ́g ond mágoþègn Beow. 408.[74]
(ii) A2b, with the second thesis reinforced (–́×|–́×̀). Most cases of this type happen in the first half-line; when they appear in the second half-line, the measure –́×̀ is typically a proper name, not a true compound. Examples: Gréndles gū́ðcræ̀ft Beow. 127, lḗofa Bḗowùlf Beow. 855; with the first arsis resolved, gámol ond gūðrḕow Beow. 58; with the second arsis resolved, béorna béaducræ̀ft An. 219; with both resolved, séfa swā séarogrìm Beow. 595; with the strengthened thesis resolved, lónd ond lḗodbỳrig Beow. 2472; with both the second arsis and thesis resolved mǣ́g ond mágoþègn Beow. 408.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
This type may still further be varied by a first thesis of two or more syllables, ū́t on þæt ī́glànd An. 15, fólc oððe frḗobùrh Beow. 694, réste hine þā rū́mhèort Beow. 1800; by resolution of the first arsis, glídon ofer gārsècg Beow. 515, of the second, lā́d ofer lágustrḕam An. 423, sýmbel on sélefùl Beow. 620; by resolution of the thesis with secondary accent, éahtodon éorlscìpe Beow. 3173; the anacrusis is rarely found, as gesā́won séledrḕam Beow. 2253, and double alliteration (in the first hemistich) is the rule in this form of type A.
This type can be further varied by a first thesis of two or more syllables, ū́t on þæt ī́glànd An. 15, fólc oððe frḗobùrh Beow. 694, réste hine þā rū́mhèort Beow. 1800; by resolution of the first arsis, glídon ofer gārsècg Beow. 515, of the second, lā́d ofer lágustrḕam An. 423, sýmbel on sélefùl Beow. 620; by resolution of the thesis with a secondary accent, éahtodon éorlscìpe Beow. 3173; the anacrusis is rarely found, as in gesā́won séledrḕam Beow. 2253, and double alliteration (in the first hemistich) is the rule for this kind of type A.
(iii) A2ab, with both theses strengthened –́×̀|–́×̀, bā́nhū̀s blṓdfā̀g An. 1407, gū́ðrìnc góldwlànc Beow. 1882, ǣ́nlī̀c ánsȳ̀n Beow. 251; with resolution of first arsis, wlítesḕon wrǽtlī̀c Beow. 1651, and of the second arsis, glḗawmṑd góde lḕof An. 1581, gū̀ðswèord géatolī̀c Beow. 2155, and of both first and second arsis, héorowèarh hételī̀c Beow. 1268; with resolution of the first (strengthened) thesis, nȳ́dwràcu nī́ðgrìm Beow. 193; with resolution of both the first arsis and the first thesis, býrelàde brȳ́d gèong Gū. 842; with resolution of the second strengthened thesis, égeslī̀c éorðdràca Beow. 2826; with resolution of the first and second thesis, fýrdsèaru fūslìcu Beow. 232. This form of the type has also as a rule double alliteration.
(iii) A2ab, with both themes emphasized –́×̀|–́×̀, bā́nhū̀s blṓdfā̀g An. 1407, gū́ðrìnc góldwlànc Beow. 1882, ǣ́nlī̀c ánsȳ̀n Beow. 251; with resolution of first arsis, wlítesḕon wrǽtlī̀c Beow. 1651, and of the second arsis, glḗawmṑd góde lḕof An. 1581, gū̀ðswèord géatolī̀c Beow. 2155, and of both first and second arsis, héorowèarh hételī̀c Beow. 1268; with resolution of the first (strengthened) theme, nȳ́dwràcu nī́ðgrìm Beow. 193; with resolution of both the first arsis and the first theme, býrelàde brȳ́d gèong Gū. 842; with resolution of the second strengthened theme, égeslī̀c éorðdràca Beow. 2826; with resolution of the first and second theme, fýrdsèaru fūslìcu Beow. 232. This form of the type also typically features double alliteration.
The sub-type A3 is type A with alliteration on the second arsis only and is limited almost entirely to the first hemistich. A strengthened thesis occurs only after the second arsis; this sub-type might therefore be designated A3b.
The sub-type A3 is type A with alliteration only on the second arsis and is mostly limited to the first half of the line. A stronger thesis appears only after the second arsis; this sub-type could therefore be called A3b.
Verses falling under this head, with their alliteration always on the last syllable but one, or (in the case of resolution) on the last syllable but two, are distinguished by the frequent occurrence of polysyllabic theses extending to five syllables, in marked contrast to types A1 and A2 where theses of one or two syllables are the rule, longer theses the exception. In A3, however, shorter theses are met with along with the usual resolutions: a monosyllabic thesis in hwǣ́r se þḗoden El. 563, ḗow hēt sécgan Beow. 391; with resolution of first arsis, wúton nū éfstan Beow. 3102; with resolution of the second arsis, þús me fǽder mīn El. 528, íc þæt hógode Beow. 633; with disyllabic thesis, hḗht þā on úhtan El. 105, hǽfde se gṓda Beow. 205; with resolution of the first arsis, þánon he gesṓhte Beow. 463; with resolution of the second arsis, wéarð him on Héorote Beow. 1331; with strengthened second thesis, éart þū sē Bḗowùlf Beow. 506; with trisyllabic thesis, gíf þē þæt gelímpe El. 441, fúndon þā on sánde Beow. 3034; with resolution of the first arsis, hwǽðere mē gesǣ́lde Beow. 574, of the second arsis, sýððan ic for dúgeðum Beow. 2502; with strengthened second thesis, nṓ hē þone gífstṑl Beow. 168; with thesis of four syllables, swýlce hī mē gebléndon Cri. 1438, hábbað wē tō þǣm mǣ́ran Beow. 270; with resolution of the first arsis, útan ūs tō þǣre hȳ́ðe Cri. 865; with resolution of the first and second arsis, þóne þe him on swéofote Beow. 2296; with strengthened second thesis, nṓ þȳ ǣr þone héaðorìnc Beow. 2466; with thesis of five syllables, sýððan hē hine to gū̀ðe Beow. 1473; with thesis of six syllables, hȳ́rde ic þæt hē þone héalsbḕah Beow. 2173. These forms are also varied by monosyllabic anacrusis combined with monosyllabic thesis, þe ḗow of wérgðe El. 295, þæt híne on ýlde Beow. 22; with strengthened second thesis, þæt híne sēo brímwỳlf Beow. 1600; with disyllabic thesis, ne þéarft þū swā swī́ðe El. 940, gesprǽc þā sē gṓda Beow. 676; the same with resolution of the first arsis, gewítan him þā góngan Cri. 533; disyllabic anacrusis and disyllabic thesis, ne gefrǽgn ic þā mǣ́gðe Beow. 1012; with resolution of the second arsis, geséah hē in récede Beow. 728; with strengthened second thesis, ge swýlce sēo hérepà̄d Beow. 2259; monosyllabic anacrusis with trisyllabic thesis, on hwýlcum þāra bḗama El. 851; with four-syllable thesis, gewī́teð þonne on sealman Beow. 2461; with resolution of the first arsis, ne mā́gon hī þonne gehȳ́nan Cri. 1525; with resolution of the second arsis, gesā́won þā æfter wǽtere Beow. 1426. The last measure may be shortened exceptionally to ⏑́×, as wǽs mīn fǽder Beow. 262.
Verses in this category typically have alliteration on the second-to-last syllable, or (in the case of resolution) on the third-to-last syllable. They often feature polysyllabic theses that can extend to five syllables, which is quite different from types A1 and A2, where one- or two-syllable theses are more common, and longer theses are rare. In A3, shorter theses appear alongside the usual resolutions: a monosyllabic thesis in hwǣ́r se þḗoden El. 563, ḗow hēt sécgan Beow. 391; with resolution of the first arsis, wúton nū éfstan Beow. 3102; with resolution of the second arsis, þús me fǽder mīn El. 528, íc þæt hógode Beow. 633; with a disyllabic thesis, hḗht þā on úhtan El. 105, hǽfde se gṓda Beow. 205; with resolution of the first arsis, þánon he gesṓhte Beow. 463; with resolution of the second arsis, wéarð him on Héorote Beow. 1331; with a strengthened second thesis, éart þū sē Bḗowùlf Beow. 506; with a trisyllabic thesis, gíf þē þæt gelímpe El. 441, fúndon þā on sánde Beow. 3034; with resolution of the first arsis, hwǽðere mē gesǣ́lde Beow. 574, of the second arsis, sýððan ic for dúgeðum Beow. 2502; with strengthened second thesis, nṓ hē þone gífstṑl Beow. 168; with a four-syllable thesis, swýlce hī mē gebléndon Cri. 1438, hábbað wē tō þǣm mǣ́ran Beow. 270; with resolution of the first arsis, útan ūs tō þǣre hȳ́ðe Cri. 865; with resolution of both the first and second arsis, þóne þe him on swéofote Beow. 2296; with strengthened second thesis, nṓ þȳ ǣr þone héaðorìnc Beow. 2466; with a five-syllable thesis, sýððan hē hine to gū̀ðe Beow. 1473; with a six-syllable thesis, hȳ́rde ic þæt hē þone héalsbḕah Beow. 2173. These forms also vary with monosyllabic anacrusis combined with a monosyllabic thesis, þe ḗow of wérgðe El. 295, þæt híne on ýlde Beow. 22; with a strengthened second thesis, þæt híne sēo brímwỳlf Beow. 1600; with a disyllabic thesis, ne þéarft þū swā swī́ðe El. 940, gesprǽc þā sē gṓda Beow. 676; similar with resolution of the first arsis, gewítan him þā góngan Cri. 533; disyllabic anacrusis and disyllabic thesis, ne gefrǽgn ic þā mǣ́gðe Beow. 1012; with resolution of the second arsis, geséah hē in récede Beow. 728; with a strengthened second thesis, ge swýlce sēo hérepà̄d Beow. 2259; monosyllabic anacrusis with a trisyllabic thesis, on hwýlcum þāra bḗama El. 851; with a four-syllable thesis, gewī́teð þonne on sealman Beow. 2461; with resolution of the first arsis, ne mā́gon hī þonne gehȳ́nan Cri. 1525; with resolution of the second arsis, gesā́won þā æfter wǽtere Beow. 1426. The last measure may be shortened exceptionally to ⏑́×, as wǽs mīn fǽder Beow. 262.
On the whole type A seems to occur more frequently in the first than in the second hemistich; in Beowulf out of the 6366 hemistichs of which the poem consists, 2819 fall under this type, and of these 1701 are first and 1118 second hemistichs.[75]
§ 26. The chief type B, ×–́|×–́, has apart from resolutions only one form. But as the second thesis may consist of either one or two syllables, we may distinguish between two sub-types, B1 (with monosyllabic second thesis) and B2 (with disyllabic second thesis). The commonest variation of the type occurs in the first thesis, which may be polysyllabic.
§ 26. The main type B, ×–́|×–́, has only one form besides resolutions. However, since the second thesis can be either one or two syllables, we can differentiate between two sub-types, B1 (with a monosyllabic second thesis) and B2 (with a disyllabic second thesis). The most common variation of the type appears in the first thesis, which can be polysyllabic.
(i) The simplest form, sub-type B1, ×–́|×–́, is not very common; according to Sievers there are only 59 instances in the whole of Beowulf, as ond Hā́lga tíl Beow. 61, þām hā́lig gód An. 14; with resolution of the first arsis in séle þām hḗan Beow. 714, and of the second arsis, þurh rū̀mne séfan Beow. 278, and of both, ǣr súmeres cýme El. 1228. Hemistichs of this type, on the other hand, with a disyllabic first thesis are not uncommon, syððan fúrðum wḗox Beow. 914, him pā Scýld gewā́t Beow. 26; with resolution of the first arsis, under Héorotes hrṓf Beow. 403; with resolution of the second, þæt sēo céaster híder An. 207, and of both, æfter hǽleða hrýre Beow. 2053; a trisyllabic first thesis is also common, þēah þe hē ā́tres drýnc An. 53, oð þæt him éft onwṓc Beow. 56, sē þe on hánda bǽr Beow. 495; with resolution of the first arsis, forðan hīe mǽgenes crǽft Beow. 418; of the second arsis, ond hū þȳ þríddan dǽge El. 185; of both, þæt hē þā géoguðe wíle Beow. 1182; with first thesis of four syllables, ne hȳrde ic sī́ð ne ǣ́r El. 240, swylce hīe æt Fínnes hā́m Beow. 1157; with first thesis of five syllables (rare) siððan hē hire fólmum hrā́n Beow. 723, and with resolution of second arsis þonne hȳ him þurh mī́nne nóman Cri. 1351.
(i) The simplest form, sub-type B1, ×–́|×–́, isn't very common; according to Sievers, there are only 59 occurrences throughout Beowulf, such as ond Hā́lga tíl Beow. 61, þām hā́lig gód An. 14; with the first arsis resolved in in séle þām hḗan Beow. 714, the second arsis resolved in þurh rū̀mne séfan Beow. 278, and both in ǣr súmeres cýme El. 1228. However, hemistichs of this type with a disyllabic first thesis are fairly common, like syððan fúrðum wḗox Beow. 914, him pā Scýld gewā́t Beow. 26; with the first arsis resolved, under Héorotes hrṓf Beow. 403; with the second arsis resolved, þæt sēo céaster híder An. 207, and both in æfter hǽleða hrýre Beow. 2053; a trisyllabic first thesis is also common, as in þēah þe hē ā́tres drýnc An. 53, oð þæt him éft onwṓc Beow. 56, sē þe on hánda bǽr Beow. 495; with the first arsis resolved, forðan hīe mǽgenes crǽft Beow. 418; the second arsis resolved in ond hū þȳ þríddan dǽge El. 185; both resolved in þæt hē þā géoguðe wíle Beow. 1182; with a four-syllable first thesis ne hȳrde ic sī́ð ne ǣ́r El. 240, swylce hīe æt Fínnes hā́m Beow. 1157; and a five-syllable first thesis (rare) as in siððan hē hire fólmum hrā́n Beow. 723, and with the second arsis resolved þonne hȳ him þurh mī́nne nóman Cri. 1351.
(ii) The sub-type B2, or B with disyllabic second thesis, is rarely found when the first thesis has only one syllable, þe drýhtnes bibṓd Cri. 1159, þū wá̄st gif hit is Beow. 272, þām wī́fe þā wórd Beow. 640; with resolution of the first arsis, þurh dároða gedrép An. 1446, and of the second, þurh níhta genípu Gū. 321; it is commoner with a disyllabic first thesis, þā of wéalle geséah Beow. 229, hē þæs frṓfre gebā́d Beow. 76; with resolution of the first arsis, mid his hǽleða gedríht Beow. 663, ofer wároða gewéorp An. 306; with trisyllabic first thesis, þonne hē ǣ́r oððe sī́ð El. 74, wes þū ūs lā́rena gṓd Beow. 269; with resolution of the first arsis, þēah hē þǣr mónige geséah Beow. 1614, and of the second arsis, þæt nǣfre Gréndel swā féla Beow. 592; with first thesis of four and five syllables, hwæðre hē in brḗostum þā gít An. 51, þæs be hire sē wílla gelámp Beow. 627.
(ii) The sub-type B2, or B with a disyllabic second thesis, is rarely seen when the first thesis has just one syllable, þe drýhtnes bibṓd Cri. 1159, þū wá̄st gif hit is Beow. 272, þām wī́fe þā wórd Beow. 640; with the first arsis resolved, þurh dároða gedrép An. 1446, and the second, þurh níhta genípu Gū. 321; it's more common with a disyllabic first thesis, þā of wéalle geséah Beow. 229, hē þæs frṓfre gebā́d Beow. 76; with the first arsis resolved, mid his hǽleða gedríht Beow. 663, ofer wároða gewéorp An. 306; with a trisyllabic first thesis, þonne hē ǣ́r oððe sī́ð El. 74, wes þū ūs lā́rena gṓd Beow. 269; with the first arsis resolved, þēah hē þǣr mónige geséah Beow. 1614, and the second arsis, þæt nǣfre Gréndel swā féla Beow. 592; with the first thesis having four and five syllables, hwæðre hē in brḗostum þā gít An. 51, þæs be hire sē wílla gelámp Beow. 627.
Verses with trisyllabic second thesis are extremely rare and doubtful.[76] It should be noticed that, in this second type too, the thesis seldom consists of a second part of a compound, as hine fýrwìt brǽc Beow. 232, the exceptions are proper names, as nū ic Bḗowùlf þéc Beow. 947, ne wearð Héremṑd swā́ Beow. 1710.
Verses with a trisyllabic second thesis are very rare and questionable.[76] It's important to note that, in this second type as well, the thesis rarely consists of the second part of a compound, as in hine fýrwìt brǽc Beow. 232. The exceptions are proper names, such as nū ic Bḗowùlf þéc Beow. 947 and ne wearð Héremṑd swā́ Beow. 1710.
Type B, according to Sievers, occurs 1014 times in Beowulf, of which 293 are in the first hemistich and 721 in the second.
Type B, according to Sievers, appears 1014 times in Beowulf, with 293 in the first half and 721 in the second.
§ 27. The Type C has three sub-types: (i) C1, the normal type ×–́|–́×, without resolution, as oft Scýld Scḗfing Beow. 4, gebū̀n hǽfdon 117. Here too the first thesis may consist of two, three, four, or five syllables, þæt hīe ǣ́ghwýlcne An. 26, þone gód sénde Beow. 13, ofer hrónrā́de Beow. 10, ǣr hē onwég hwúrfe Beow. 264, mid þǣre wǽlfýlle Beow. 125, þe ic him tṓ sḗce El. 319 þāra þe mid Bḗowúlfe Beow. 1052, oð þæt hine sémnínga An. 821, þāra þe hē him míd hǽfde Beow. 1625, swylce hīe ofer sǣ́e cṓmon, An. 247. (ii) C 2 is the normal type C with resolution of the first arsis, and is of such frequent occurrence that it may be looked on as a special type, on hérefélda An. 10, forscrífen hǽfde Beow. 106, in wórold wṓcun Beow. 60; a less common form is that with resolution of the first and second arsis, tō brímes fároðe Beow. 28, swā féla fýrena Beow. 164; sometimes with resolution of the second arsis only, tō sǣ́es fároðe An. 236 and 1660, for frḗan égesan An. 457, but not in Beowulf. The first thesis may have two, three, or four syllables, þā wið góde wúnnon Beow. 113, ofer lágustrǣ́te; with two resolutions, ic þæs wíne Déniga Beow. 350, hū sē mága frémede An. 639, þæt him his wínemā́gas Beow. 65, ne hīe hūru wínedríhten Beow. 863. (iii) C3 is type C with short second arsis, ×–́|⏑́×, and is pretty common, in gḗardágum Beow. 1, of fḗorwégum Beow. 37; the first thesis may have from two to five syllables, þæt wæs gṓd cýning Beow. 11, þæt hīe in bḗorséle Beow. 482, sē þe hine dḗað nímeð Beow. 441, ne meaht þū þæs sī́ðfǽtes An. 211, þonne hē on þæt sínc stárað Beow. 1486. Resolution seems to be avoided, though it occurs here and there, of hlíðes nósan Beow. 1892, on þǣm méðelstéde Beow. 1083. Thesis with secondary accent is not found. The number of hemistichs of type C in Beowulf is, according to Sievers, 564
§ 27. The Type C has three sub-types: (i) C1, the standard type ×–́|–́×, without resolution, as in oft Scýld Scḗfing Beow. 4, gebū̀n hǽfdon 117. Here, the first thesis can consist of two, three, four, or five syllables, þæt hīe ǣ́ghwýlcne An. 26, þone gód sénde Beow. 13, ofer hrónrā́de Beow. 10, ǣr hē onwég hwúrfe Beow. 264, mid þǣre wǽlfýlle Beow. 125, þe ic him tṓ sḗce El. 319 þāra þe mid Bḗowúlfe Beow. 1052, oð þæt hine sémnínga An. 821, þāra þe hē him míd hǽfde Beow. 1625, swylce hīe ofer sǣ́e cṓmon, An. 247. (ii) C2 is the regular type C with resolution of the first arsis, and is so frequently found that it can be regarded as a special type, on hérefélda An. 10, forscrífen hǽfde Beow. 106, in wórold wṓcun Beow. 60; a less common form features resolution of the first and second arsis, tō brímes fároðe Beow. 28, swā féla fýrena Beow. 164; sometimes it has resolution of the second arsis only, tō sǣ́es fároðe An. 236 and 1660, for frḗan égesan An. 457, but not in Beowulf. The first thesis can have two, three, or four syllables, þā wið góde wúnnon Beow. 113, ofer lágustrǣ́te; with two resolutions, ic þæs wíne Déniga Beow. 350, hū sē mága frémede An. 639, þæt him his wínemā́gas Beow. 65, ne hīe hūru wínedríhten Beow. 863. (iii) C3 is type C with a short second arsis, ×–́|⏑́×, and is quite common, in gḗardágum Beow. 1, of fḗorwégum Beow. 37; the first thesis can have from two to five syllables, þæt wæs gṓd cýning Beow. 11, þæt hīe in bḗorséle Beow. 482, sē þe hine dḗað nímeð Beow. 441, ne meaht þū þæs sī́ðfǽtes An. 211, þonne hē on þæt sínc stárað Beow. 1486. Resolution seems to be avoided, although it occurs here and there, of hlíðes nósan Beow. 1892, on þǣm méðelstéde Beow. 1083. Thesis with secondary accent is not found. The number of hemistichs of type C in Beowulf is, according to Sievers, 564.
§ 28. The type D always ends with a disyllabic thesis, of which the first is generally the second syllable of a compound and has the secondary accent. There are four sub-types. (i) D1 is the normal form, –́|–́×̀×, as hélm ǽlwìhta An. 118, fḗond máncỳnnes Beow. 164, wī́gwéorðùnga Beow. 176, wéard Scýldìnga Beow. 95, lándbúèndum Beow. 95, hríng gýldènne, Beow. 2810, hóf mṓdìgra Beow. 312, frḗan ū̀sèrne Beow. 3003. The chief variations arise from resolution of the first arsis, cýning ǽlmìhtig El. 145, fǽder álwàlda Beow. 316, mérelī́ðènde Beow. 255, flótan ḗowèrne Beow. 294, cýning ǣ́nìgne Beow. 1851, or of the second arsis, hḗan hýgegḕomor An. 1089, mǣ́g Hígelà̄ces Beow. 738 and 759; resolution of first and second arsis, hláden hérewǣ̀dum Beow. 1898, néfan Hérerī̀ces Beow. 2207. Hemistichs like wiht unhǣlo Beow. 120, which have compounds with un, may be read wíht únhǽlo according to type D2, or wíht unhǣ́lo according to type A, –́×|–́× (Sievers, Paul-Braune’s Beiträge, x. 251, and Kluge in Paul’s Grundriss, i2, p. 1051). (ii) D2 is the same form, but with the thesis short and with secondary accent, –́|–́⏑̀× béorht blǽdgìfa An. 84, lḗof lándfrùma Beow. 31, strḗam ū́t þònan Beow. 2546, rǣ́d éahtèdon Beow. 172; with resolution of the first arsis, mǽgen sámnòde El. 55, mága Héalfdènes Beow. 189; with resolution of the second arsis, hórd ópenìan Beow. 3057, the only example. (iii) D 3 is the normal type, but with short second arsis (rare), –́|⏑́×̀×, éorðcýnìnga El. 1174; with resolution of the first arsis, rádorcýnìnges El. 624. (iv) D 4 has the form –́|–́××̀, and is closely allied to the type E (–́×̀×|–́), as it has the secondary accent on the last syllable of the thesis (Sievers, Paul-Braune’s Beiträge, x. 256), brḗost ínnanwèard An. 649, hólm ū̀p ætbæ̀r Beow. 519, fýrst fórð gewā́t ib. 210; varied by resolution of the first arsis, géaro gū̀ðe fràm An. 234, flóta fā́mighèals Beow. 218, súnu dḗað fornàm Beow. 2120; by resolution of the second arsis, wlánc Wédera lṑod 341, and of both first and second arsis, wlítig wéoruda hḕap An. 872; and resolution of the last thesis with secondary accent, wṓp úp āhàfen Beow. 128, wúnað wíntra fèla Ph. 580. Certain hemistichs which may belong to this sub-type admit of an alternative accentuation, and may belong to the following type; for example, scop hwlum sang Beow. 496 may be read –́|–́××̀, or as E –́×̀×|–́, so werod eall ārās Beow. 652.
§ 28. Type D always ends with a two-syllable thesis, where the first syllable is usually the second syllable of a compound and has the secondary accent. There are four sub-types. (i) D1 is the standard form, –́|–́×̀×, as in hélm ǽlwìhta An. 118, fḗond máncỳnnes Beow. 164, wī́gwéorðùnga Beow. 176, wéard Scýldìnga Beow. 95, lándbúèndum Beow. 95, hríng gýldènne, Beow. 2810, hóf mṓdìgra Beow. 312, frḗan ū̀sèrne Beow. 3003. The main variations come from resolving the first arsis, cýning ǽlmìhtig El. 145, fǽder álwàlda Beow. 316, mérelī́ðènde Beow. 255, flótan ḗowèrne Beow. 294, cýning ǣ́nìgne Beow. 1851, or the second arsis, hḗan hýgegḕomor An. 1089, mǣ́g Hígelà̄ces Beow. 738 and 759; both the first and second arsis, hláden hérewǣ̀dum Beow. 1898, néfan Hérerī̀ces Beow. 2207. Hemistichs like wiht unhǣlo Beow. 120, which include compounds with un, can be read as wíht únhǽlo according to type D2, or wíht unhǣ́lo according to type A, –́×|–́× (Sievers, Paul-Braune’s Beiträge, x. 251, and Kluge in Paul’s Grundriss, i2, p. 1051). (ii) D2 is the same form, but with a short thesis and with secondary accent, –́|–́⏑̀× béorht blǽdgìfa An. 84, lḗof lándfrùma Beow. 31, strḗam ū́t þònan Beow. 2546, rǣ́d éahtèdon Beow. 172; with first arsis resolution, mǽgen sámnòde El. 55, mága Héalfdènes Beow. 189; with second arsis resolution, hórd ópenìan Beow. 3057, the only example. (iii) D3 is the standard type, but with a short second arsis (rare), –́|⏑́×̀×, éorðcýnìnga El. 1174; with first arsis resolution, rádorcýnìnges El. 624. (iv) D4 has the form –́|–́××̀, and is closely related to type E (–́×̀×|–́), as it has the secondary accent on the last syllable of the thesis (Sievers, Paul-Braune’s Beiträge, x. 256), brḗost ínnanwèard An. 649, hólm ū̀p ætbæ̀r Beow. 519, fýrst fórð gewā́t ib. 210; varied by first arsis resolution, géaro gū̀ðe fràm An. 234, flóta fā́mighèals Beow. 218, súnu dḗað fornàm Beow. 2120; by second arsis resolution, wlánc Wédera lṑod 341, and by resolution of both first and second arsis, wlítig wéoruda hḕap An. 872; and resolution of the last thesis with secondary accent, wṓp úp āhàfen Beow. 128, wúnað wíntra fèla Ph. 580. Certain hemistichs that may belong to this sub-type allow an alternative accentuation and may fit into the following type; for example, scop hwlum sang Beow. 496 can be read as –́|–́××̀, or as E –́×̀×|–́, so werod eall ārās Beow. 652.
E1 has the form –́×̀×|–́, the syllable with secondary accent standing first in the thesis, mṓdsòrge wǽg El. 61, wéorðmỳndum þā́h Beow. 8, Sū̀ðdèna fólc Beow. 463, ḗhtènde wǽs Beow. 159, hǣ́ðènra hýht Beow. 179, ǣ́nìgne þónc Cri. 1498, wórdhòrd onléac Beow. 259, úplàng āstṓd Beow. 760, scóp hwī̀lum sáng Beow. 496 (cf. above, § 29); varied by resolution of the first arsis, héofonrī̀ces weárd El. 445, Scédelàndum ín Beow. 19, wlítebèorhtne wáng Beow. 93, lífigènde cwṓm Beow. 1974, ǽðelìnges wḗox El. 12, médofùl ætbǽr Beow. 625, dúguð èall ārā́s Beow. 1791; resolution of the second arsis is rare, tī́rḕadge hǽleð An. 2 (the MS. reading ēadige must be corrected to ēadge, see Sievers, Beiträge, x. 459 on these middle vowels after long root-syllable), hélþègnes héte Beow. 142; resolution of both is rare, sélewèard āséted Beow. 668, wínedrỳhten frǽgen An. 921; resolution of the accented thesis, glḗdègesa grím Beow. 2651.
E1 has the form –́×̀×|–́, with the syllable that has secondary accent appearing first in the thesis, mṓdsòrge wǽg El. 61, wéorðmỳndum þā́h Beow. 8, Sū̀ðdèna fólc Beow. 463, ḗhtènde wǽs Beow. 159, hǣ́ðènra hýht Beow. 179, ǣ́nìgne þónc Cri. 1498, wórdhòrd onléac Beow. 259, úplàng āstṓd Beow. 760, scóp hwī̀lum sáng Beow. 496 (see above, § 29); varied by resolution of the first arsis, héofonrī̀ces weárd El. 445, Scédelàndum ín Beow. 19, wlítebèorhtne wáng Beow. 93, lífigènde cwṓm Beow. 1974, ǽðelìnges wḗox El. 12, médofùl ætbǽr Beow. 625, dúguð èall ārā́s Beow. 1791; resolution of the second arsis is rare, tī́rḕadge hǽleð An. 2 (the manuscript reading ēadige must be corrected to ēadge, see Sievers, Beiträge, x. 459 on these middle vowels after long root-syllable), hélþègnes héte Beow. 142; resolution of both is rare, sélewèard āséted Beow. 668, wínedrỳhten frǽgen An. 921; resolution of the accented thesis, glḗdègesa grím Beow. 2651.
E2 has the last syllable of the thesis with secondary accent, and is very rare, –́××̀|–́, mórðorbèd strḗd Beow. 2437; with resolution of last arsis, gḗomorgìdd wrécen An. 1550, bǣ́ron ū̀t hrǽðe An. 1223.
E2 has the last syllable of the thesis with a secondary accent and is very rare, –́××̀|–́, mórðorbèd strḗd Beow. 2437; with resolution of the last arsis, gḗomorgìdd wrécen An. 1550, bǣ́ron ū̀t hrǽðe An. 1223.
II. Hemistichs of five members.
Type A* has two sub-types distinguished by the position of the syllable with the secondary accent.
Type A* has two sub-types defined by where the syllable with the secondary accent is located.
(i) A*1, –́×̀×|–́× occurs chiefly in the first hemistich, gódbèarn on gálgan El. 719; with resolution of first arsis, géolorànd tō gū́ðe Beow. 438; with thesis of two unaccented syllables following on the secondary accent, glǽdmṑd on gesíhðe Cri. 911, fǽstrǽdne geþṓht Beow. 611; with final thesis strengthened by secondary accent, gā́stlī̀cne góddrḕam Gū. 602, gámolfèax ond gū́ðrṑf Beow. 609.
(i) A*1, –́×̀×|–́× primarily appears in the first half of a line, gódbèarn on gálgan El. 719; with the first arsis resolved, géolorànd tō gū́ðe Beow. 438; with two unstressed syllables following the secondary accent, glǽdmṑd on gesíhðe Cri. 911, fǽstrǽdne geþṓht Beow. 611; with the final thesis strengthened by a secondary accent, gā́stlī̀cne góddrḕam Gū. 602, gámolfèax ond gū́ðrṑf Beow. 609.
(ii) A*2 –́××̀|–́× may possibly occur in mā́ððumfæ̀t mǣ́re Beow. 2405, wúldorlḕan wéorca Cri. 1080; with resolution of the thesis with secondary accent, mórðorbèalo mága Beow. 1079. Possibly, however, the syllables um in māððum and or in wuldor and morðor are to be written m and r, so that the scansion of the hemistich would be A2 –́–̀|–́× and –́⏑̀͜×|–́× .[77]
(ii) A*2 –́××̀|–́× might occur in mā́ððumfæ̀t mǣ́re Beow. 2405, wúldorlḕan wéorca Cri. 1080; with the resolution of the main element with secondary stress, mórðorbèalo mága Beow. 1079. However, it’s possible that the syllables um in māððum and or in wuldor and morðor should be written m and r, meaning that the scansion of the hemistich would be A2 –́–̀|–́× and –́⏑̀͜×|–́× .__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
Type B* ×̀×–́|×–́ does not seem to occur in O.E. poetry, though it does in Old Norse.
Type B* ×̀×–́|×–́ doesn’t appear in Old English poetry, but it does in Old Norse.
Type C* in the forms ×̀×–́|–́×,×̀×⏑́×|–́×,××–́|⏑́× are also not found in O.E.
Type C* in the forms ×̀×–́|–́×,×̀×⏑́×|–́×,××–́|⏑́× are also not found in Old English.
Type D* on the other hand does occur, but almost exclusively in the first hemistich. It has three sub-types: (i) D*1 –́×|–́××, sī́de sǣ́næ̀ssas Beow. 223, áldres órwḕna Beow. 1002; with resolution of the first arsis, ǽðeling ā́nhȳ̀dig Beow. 2668; more commonly with resolution of the second arsis, mǣ́ton mérestræ̀ta Beow. 514; with resolution of both, lócene léoðosỳrcan Beow. 1506. (ii) D*2 –́×|–́⏑̀×, mǣ́re méarcstàpa Beow. 103, éaldor Éastdèna Beow. 392; with resolution of the first arsis, ǽðele órdfrùma Beow. 263; with resolution of the second arsis, mṓdges mérefàran Beow. 502, Bḗowulf máðelòde Beow. 505, &c. (iii) D*3 –́×|⏑́×̀× is not found. (iv) D*4 –́×|–́××̀ is rare, grḗtte Gḗata lḕod Beow. 625, þrȳ́ðlīc þégna hḕap Beow. 400; with resolution of first arsis, éaforan éllorsī̀ð Beow. 2452; with resolution of the second, ȳ́ðde éotena cỳn Beow. 421; with resolution of the secondarily accented syllable, wī́n of wúndorfàtum Beow. 1163; this type is varied by anacrusis, ongínneð gḗomormṑd Beow. 2045, and by anacrusis together with disyllabic thesis in the second foot, oferswám þā síoleða bigòng Beow. 2368.
Type D* does occur, but almost exclusively in the first half-line. It has three sub-types: (i) D*1 –́×|–́××, sī́de sǣ́næ̀ssas Beow. 223, áldres órwḕna Beow. 1002; with resolution of the first arsis, ǽðeling ā́nhȳ̀dig Beow. 2668; more commonly with resolution of the second arsis, mǣ́ton mérestræ̀ta Beow. 514; with resolution of both, lócene léoðosỳrcan Beow. 1506. (ii) D*2 –́×|–́⏑̀×, mǣ́re méarcstàpa Beow. 103, éaldor Éastdèna Beow. 392; with resolution of the first arsis, ǽðele órdfrùma Beow. 263; with resolution of the second arsis, mṓdges mérefàran Beow. 502, Bḗowulf máðelòde Beow. 505, &c. (iii) D*3 –́×|⏑́×̀× is not found. (iv) D*4 –́×|–́××̀ is rare, grḗtte Gḗata lḕod Beow. 625, þrȳ́ðlīc þégna hḕap Beow. 400; with resolution of the first arsis, éaforan éllorsī̀ð Beow. 2452; with resolution of the second, ȳ́ðde éotena cỳn Beow. 421; with resolution of the secondarily accented syllable, wī́n of wúndorfàtum Beow. 1163; this type is varied by anacrusis, ongínneð gḗomormṑd Beow. 2045, and by anacrusis together with disyllabic thesis in the second foot, oferswám þā síoleða bigòng Beow. 2368.
Type E* does not occur in O.E. poetry.[78]
Type E* does not appear in O.E. poetry.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
§ 31. To assign the different hemistichs of a poem to these various types we have to follow as a regulating principle the natural word accent and syntactical accent of each sentence. In some cases the similarity or relation with one another of the types renders it a matter of difficulty to determine exactly to what particular type a hemistich may belong. Systematic investigations as to the principles which govern the combinations of the five types in pairs to form the long line have not yet been made. From such observations as have been made it would appear that by preference hemistichs of different rhythmical structure (ascending and descending) were combined with a view to avoid a monotonous likeness between the two halves of the verse.[79].
§ 31. To categorize the different parts of a poem into these various types, we need to follow the natural emphasis of words and the grammatical structure of each sentence as our main guide. In some cases, the similarities or connections between the types make it challenging to pinpoint exactly which type a particular part belongs to. There hasn’t been a thorough investigation into the principles that govern how the five types combine in pairs to create the long line. From the observations that have been made, it seems that parts with different rhythmic structures (ascending and descending) tend to be paired together to avoid a monotonous similarity between the two halves of the verse.[79].
§ 32. The combination of two hemistichs so as to form a long line is effected by means of alliteration, one at least of the two fully accented syllables being the bearer of an alliterative sound. In no case is an unaccented syllable or even a syllable with a secondary accent allowed to take part in the alliteration. This fact, that secondarily accented syllables are debarred from alliterating, is another proof that it is better to look on them as belonging to the thesis rather than to the arsis of the verse.
§ 32. The merging of two half-lines to create a longer line is accomplished through alliteration, with at least one of the two fully stressed syllables carrying an alliterative sound. In no case can an unstressed syllable or even a syllable with a secondary stress participate in the alliteration. This fact, that syllables with secondary stress are excluded from alliteration, further supports the idea that they should be viewed as part of the thesis rather than the arsis of the verse.
The Principles of Alliteration.
§ 33. Quality of the Alliteration. It is an all but invariable rule that the correspondence of sounds must be exact and not merely approximate. A g must alliterate to a g, not to a c, a d to a d, not to a t, and so on. There is, however, one remarkable exception, namely, that no distinction is made between the guttural c (as in cūðe) and the palatal c (as in cēosan), nor between the guttural g (as in god) and the palatal g (as in gierede), not even when the latter represents Germanic j (as in geong, gēar). With exceptions hereafter to be noted, a consonant followed by a vowel may alliterate with itself followed by another consonant: thus cūðe alliterates not only with words like cyning, but with words like cræft, cwellan; and hūs alliterates not only with heofon but with hlēapan, hnǣgan, &c. The fact that different vowels, as ī, ū, and æ in īsig ond ūtfūs æðelinges fær Beow. 33, alliterate together is only an apparent exception to the strictness of the rule, as it is really the glottal catch or spiritus lenis[80] before all vowels which alliterates here. Wherever a vowel seems to alliterate with an h we are justified in assuming a corruption of the text, as in óretmecgas æfter hǽleðum frægn Beow. 332, where Grein improves both sense and metre by substituting æðelum for hæleðum; other examples are Beow. 499, 1542, 2095, 2930. In some cases where foreign names beginning with h occur we occasionally find instances of this inexact alliteration, as Hólofernus únlyfigendes Jud. 180 and 7, 21, 46, contrasted with Hólofernus hógedon āninga 250; in later works as in Ælfric’s Metrical Homilies we find alliteration of h with a vowel not only in foreign names but with native words, as
§ 33. Quality of the Alliteration. It’s almost always the case that the matching sounds have to be exact and not just close. A g must alliterate with a g, not a c; a d has to alliterate with a d, not a t; and so on. However, there’s one notable exception: no distinction is made between the guttural c (like in cūðe) and the palatal c (like in cēosan), nor between the guttural g (as in god) and the palatal g (as in gierede), not even when the latter represents Germanic j (like in geong, gēar). With exceptions that will be noted later, a consonant followed by a vowel can alliterate with itself followed by another consonant: for example, cūðe alliterates not just with words like cyning, but also with words like cræft, cwellan; and hūs alliterates not only with heofon but with hlēapan, hnǣgan, etc. The fact that different vowels, such as ī, ū, and æ in īsig ond ūtfūs æðelinges fær Beow. 33, alliterate together is only a seeming exception to the strictness of the rule, as it's actually the glottal catch or spiritus lenis before all vowels that alliterates here. Whenever a vowel seems to alliterate with an h, we can assume there’s a corruption in the text, as in óretmecgas æfter hǽleðum frægn Beow. 332, where Grein improves both the sense and meter by changing hæleðum to æðelum; other examples are Beow. 499, 1542, 2095, 2930. In some cases where foreign names starting with h come up, we occasionally see examples of this imprecise alliteration, like Hólofernus únlyfigendes Jud. 180 and 7, 21, 46, compared with Hólofernus hógedon āninga 250; in later works like Ælfric’s Metrical Homilies, we find alliteration of h with a vowel not just in foreign names but also with native words, as
and h before consonants (viz. r, l, w) is disregarded as
and h before consonants (like r, l, w) is ignored as
It is important to observe that the combinations st, sc, sp are not allowed to alliterate with each other or with words beginning with s not followed by a consonant, but st can alliterate only with st, sc only with sc, sp only with sp; thus spere and scyld, stillan and springan, sǣ and styrman do not count as alliterations. The invariable practice is seen in the following lines:—
It’s important to note that the combinations st, sc, sp can’t alliterate with each other or with words starting with s unless it’s followed by a consonant. However, st can only alliterate with st, sc can only alliterate with sc, and sp can only alliterate with sp. Therefore, spere and scyld, stillan and springan, sǣ and styrman do not count as alliterations. This consistent rule is evident in the following lines:—
In later times this rule was not so strictly observed. The metrical Psalms alliterate sc with s and sw with s, as
In later times, this rule wasn't followed as strictly. The metrical Psalms alliterate sc with s and sw with s, as
but sp and st do not alliterate with each other or with s. In Ælfric all these combinations of consonants alliterate indifferently with each other or with s + another consonant or with simple s, as in
but sp and st don’t alliterate with each other or with s. In Ælfric, all these combinations of consonants alliterate freely with each other or with s + another consonant or with simple s, as in
Sometimes in Ælfric the alliterating letter does not stand at the beginning of the word,
Sometimes in Ælfric, the alliterating letter doesn't appear at the beginning of the word,
and the alliteration may even fall on an unaccented particle as in
and the alliteration may even happen on an unstressed word as in
For a full account of Ælfric’s alliteration the reader may be referred to an interesting essay by Dr. Arthur Brandeis, Die Alliteration in Aelfric’s metrischen Homilien, 1897 (Programm der Staatsrealschule im VII. Bezirk in Wien).
For a complete overview of Ælfric's alliteration, readers can refer to an engaging essay by Dr. Arthur Brandeis, Die Alliteration in Aelfric’s metrischen Homilien, 1897 (Programm der Staatsrealschule im VII. Bezirk in Wien).
The position of these alliterative sounds in the line may vary in the same way as their number. The general laws which govern the position of the alliteration are the following:—(i) One alliterating sound must, and two may occur in the first hemistich; (ii) In the second hemistich the alliterating sound (called the head-stave[82]) must fall on the first of the two accented syllables of that hemistich, and the second accented syllable in the second hemistich does not take part in the alliteration at all; (iii) When there are three alliterating sounds in the whole line two of them must be in the first hemistich and only one in the second. Examples of lines with three alliterating sounds:
The placement of these alliterative sounds in the line can change just like their quantity. The main rules that determine where the alliteration goes are: (i) One alliterating sound must be present, and two may be in the first half of the line; (ii) In the second half, the alliterating sound (referred to as the head-stave[82]) must be on the first of the two stressed syllables of that half, and the second stressed syllable in the second half does not participate in the alliteration at all; (iii) When there are three alliterating sounds in the entire line, two of them must be in the first half and only one in the second. Examples of lines with three alliterating sounds:
Lines with only two alliterative sounds, the first of which may coincide with either of the accented syllables of the first hemistich (the second of course coinciding with the first accented syllable of the second hemistich) are very common:
Lines with just two alliterative sounds, where the first may match either of the stressed syllables in the first half-line (with the second matching the first stressed syllable of the second half-line), are quite common:
If the first hemistich contains only one alliterative sound this alliteration generally falls on the more emphatic of the two accented syllables of the hemistich which is usually the first, as
If the first half-line has just one alliterative sound, this alliteration usually emphasizes the stronger of the two stressed syllables in the half-line, which is typically the first, as
In the type A the single alliteration of the first hemistich not unfrequently falls on the second accented syllable, such cases being distinguished, as A3
In type A, the single alliteration of the first half-line often falls on the second accented syllable, with these cases being marked as A3
In types C and D the single alliteration of the first section must always fall on the first accented syllable which in these types is more emphatic than the second. In types B and E alliteration on the second arsis would bring the alliteration too near to the end of the hemistich, and is therefore rare.
In types C and D, the alliteration in the first section must always be on the first stressed syllable, which is more emphasized than the second in these types. In types B and E, alliteration on the second stressed syllable would be too close to the end of the hemistich, so it's uncommon.
Double alliteration in the first hemistich occurs in all of the five types, and chiefly when the two accented syllables have equally strong accents. It is, therefore, least common in C ×–́|–́× where the first arsis predominates over the second, and is most frequent in the strengthened hemistichs, in D, E, A2, and in the five-membered D* types, where it is the rule.[83]
Double alliteration in the first half of the line happens in all five types, mainly when both accented syllables have equally strong stresses. It is, therefore, least common in C ×–́|–́×, where the first stress is stronger than the second, and it appears most often in the strengthened halves, in D, E, A2, and in the five-membered D* types, where it is the rule.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
A third form of alliteration, though much less important and frequent than these two, occurs when the second accented syllable of the second hemistich shares in alliteration, in addition to the first accented syllable. There are then two different pairs of alliterative sounds distributed alternately between the two hemistichs. The commonest form of this double alliteration of the whole line is represented by the formula a b | a b, as
A third form of alliteration, although much less significant and common than the other two, happens when the second stressed syllable of the second hemistich also participates in alliteration, in addition to the first stressed syllable. In this case, there are two different pairs of alliterative sounds alternating between the two hemistichs. The most common form of this double alliteration throughout the line is represented by the formula a b | a b, as
less commonly by the formula a b | b a:
less commonly by the formula a b | b a:
verses corresponding to the formula a a | b b are not found in early poetry. No doubt certain instances of this double alliteration may be accidental, but others seem intentional.
verses corresponding to the formula a a | b b are not found in early poetry. No doubt certain instances of this double alliteration may be accidental, but others seem intentional.
The foregoing rules as to alliteration are strictly observed in the early and classic poetry, but in later times certain licences crept in. Three of these may be noticed. (i) The second accented syllable of the second hemistich is allowed to carry the alliteration instead of the first accented syllable,
The rules for alliteration mentioned above are strictly followed in early and classic poetry, but over time, some exceptions occurred. Three of these can be identified. (i) The second stressed syllable of the second half-line is allowed to carry the alliteration instead of the first stressed syllable,
(ii) Both accented syllables of the second hemistich alliterate with one accented syllable of the first hemistich,[84]
(ii) Both stressed syllables of the second half-line alliterate with one stressed syllable of the first half-line,__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
(iii) The four accented syllables of the line all alliterate together,
(iii) The four stressed syllables of the line all start with the same sound,
In the majority of cases the same alliterative letter is not employed in two successive lines, but we find cases like
In most cases, the same alliterative letter isn't used in two consecutive lines, but we come across instances like
and earlier in Andreas 70, 197, 372, 796, 815, 1087, &c., or in Beowulf 403, 489, 644, 799, 865, 898, &c.
and earlier in Andreas 70, 197, 372, 796, 815, 1087, etc., or in Beowulf 403, 489, 644, 799, 865, 898, etc.
And even three lines in succession, as
And even three lines in a row, as
This usage, which in Middle English became very popular, is noticeably frequent in the poem of Judith, probably with a view to emphasis. Many examples of such pairs of verses are to be found collected by Dr. A. Brandeis from Ælfric.
This usage, which became very popular in Middle English, is noticeably frequent in the poem of Judith, likely for emphasis. Many examples of these pairs of verses are gathered by Dr. A. Brandeis from Ælfric.
The unaccented words may begin with the same letter as the accented words which bear the alliteration proper,[85] as
The unaccented words might start with the same letter as the accented words that create the alliteration proper,[85] as
or one of the unaccented words may begin with the same letter as an accented word which does not alliterate, as
or one of the unaccented words may start with the same letter as an accented word that doesn’t alliterate, as
this of course has nothing to do with alliteration, though in later times it was often mistaken for it.
this of course has nothing to do with alliteration, though in later times it was often confused with it.
Verses without any alliteration at all, as
Verses without any alliteration at all, as
occur only in late OE. poetry like Ælfric’s Homilies, and when rhyme was beginning to creep in.
occur only in late Old English poetry like Ælfric’s Homilies, and when rhyme was starting to appear.
§ 35. Alliteration in relation to the parts of speech and to the order the order of words. Both alliteration and the whole structure of the alliterative line depend in the first place on the natural or etymological accent of the single words, and next on the syntactical accent which these words bear in their relation to one another in the sentence. Just as only the accented syllable of a single word can take part in the alliteration, so only can those words take part in it which are marked out in the sentence as important and therefore strongly accented.
§ 35. Alliteration in relation to the parts of speech and to the order of words. Both alliteration and the overall structure of the alliterative line first depend on the natural or etymological stress of each word, and then on the syntactical emphasis these words have in their relationship to each other within the sentence. Just as only the stressed syllable of a single word can contribute to alliteration, only those words that are highlighted as significant and therefore strongly stressed can participate in it.
The relative degree of stress is influenced at times by the rhetorical accent, but generally speaking we find a certain gradation of accent among the accented words depending on their intrinsic and not on their rhetorical importance in building up the sentence.
The level of stress is sometimes influenced by the rhetorical emphasis, but overall, we notice a specific gradation of emphasis among the stressed words based on their inherent importance rather than their rhetorical significance in constructing the sentence.
Two general principles may be laid down: (1) If the syntactical value of the two accented syllables of the hemistich is not equal, then the word which has the stronger accent of the two is chosen to alliterate. In the second hemistich it is always the first accented word (the ‘head stave’), in the first hemistich it is generally the first accented word, though the second accented word may alliterate as well. (2) If the two accented syllables of the section are equal in syntactical value, then the first alliterates, and when double alliteration is allowed the second may also alliterate.
Two general principles can be established: (1) If the grammatical value of the two stressed syllables in the half-line is not equal, then the word with the stronger stress of the two is chosen for alliteration. In the second half-line, it is always the first stressed word (the ‘head stave’), while in the first half-line it is usually the first stressed word, although the second stressed word can also alliterate. (2) If the two stressed syllables in the section are equal in grammatical value, then the first word alliterates, and when double alliteration is allowed, the second may also alliterate.
The various grammatical classes of words are treated in regard to the alliteration in the following way:—
The different grammatical classes of words are addressed concerning the alliteration in the following way:—
Nouns, including adjectives and the infinitives and participles of verbs, have the strongest accent of all words in the sentence. A noun therefore takes precedence over the other parts of speech among which it occurs and has the alliteration, as
Nouns, including adjectives and the infinitives and participles of verbs, carry the heaviest stress of all words in the sentence. A noun thus takes priority over the other parts of speech it appears with and has the alliteration, as
If two nouns occur in the same hemistich it is always the first which alliterates,
If two nouns appear in the same half-line, it's always the first one that alliterates,
The only exceptions are when a special rhetorical emphasis is given to the second word.
The only exceptions are when special emphasis is placed on the second word.
When a noun and two adjectives or two nouns and an adjective occur in the same hemistich, one of these is always subordinated to the other, and the two together are treated as a combination. In such cases, where there is double alliteration in the hemistich, the position of the alliterating words may be either a a x, or a x a, the subordinate element (x) standing either in the last or the second place in the hemistich,
When a noun and two adjectives or two nouns and an adjective appear in the same half-line, one of these is always subordinate to the other, and the two together are treated as a combination. In such cases, where there is double alliteration in the half-line, the position of the alliterating words can be either a a x or a x a, with the subordinate element (x) positioned either last or second in the half-line.
In the case of single alliteration, it is always the first of the nouns or adjectives which alliterates.
In the case of single alliteration, it's always the first noun or adjective that alliterates.
The verb (excluding the infinitive and participles) is usually less strongly accented than the noun. It may therefore precede or follow the noun or adjective without alliteration, either in the arsis or thesis, as
The verb (not counting the infinitive and participles) usually has a weaker emphasis than the noun. It can therefore come before or after the noun or adjective without alliteration, either in the arsis or thesis, as
On the other hand, when a hemistich consists only of one noun and one verb, the verb may alliterate, as
On the other hand, when a half-line consists of just one noun and one verb, the verb can alliterate, as
When a substantive and an adjective are closely combined, a verb in the same hemistich may alliterate, as
When a noun and an adjective are closely combined, a verb in the same half-line may alliterate, as
In formulas consisting of noun + verb the noun predominates over the verb and takes the alliteration, as
In phrases made up of a noun and a verb, the noun takes precedence over the verb and carries the alliteration, as
But if the verb is emphatic it may alliterate though there is a noun in the same hemistich; this occurs chiefly in the second hemistich, as
But if the verb is emphasized, it can alliterate even when there's a noun in the same half-line; this mainly happens in the second half-line, as
but a few instances are found in the first hemistich, as
but a few instances are found in the first half, as
When one of two verbs in the hemistich is subordinate to the other the verb in the subordinate clause alliterates, having a stronger accent than the verb in the main clause,
When one of two verbs in the hemistich is dependent on the other, the verb in the dependent clause alliterates, carrying a stronger emphasis than the verb in the main clause,
If the two verbs are co-ordinate the first alliterates,
If the two verbs are coordinated, the first one alliterates,
in the first hemistich both verbs commonly alliterate,
in the first half-line both verbs usually alliterate,
The adverb. Adverbs of degree like micle, swīðe, ful, &c., are commonly found in the thesis, and even if they stand in the arsis they usually do not alliterate, as
The adverb. Adverbs of degree like micle, swīðe, ful, etc., are commonly found in the main part of the sentence, and even when they appear at the beginning of a phrase, they typically do not alliterate, as
When adverbs of this kind have a special rhetorical emphasis they may of course alliterate, as
When adverbs like this have a specific rhetorical emphasis, they can certainly alliterate, as
Adverbs which modify the meaning of the word which they precede alliterate, as
Adverbs that change the meaning of the word they come before alliterate, like
Adverbial prepositions preceding the verb also alliterate,
Adverbial prepositions that come before the verb also create alliteration,
but not when they follow the verb,
but not when they come after the verb,
Adverbs derived from nouns are more strongly accented than the verb which they modify and therefore alliterate,
Adverbs that come from nouns are more strongly stressed than the verbs they modify, and as a result, they alliterate.
Pronouns (and pronominal adjectives like monig, eall, fela) are usually enclitic, and precede or follow the noun without alliterating, as
Pronouns (and pronominal adjectives like many, all, several) are usually enclitic, and come before or after the noun without alliterating, as
With a special rhetorical accent they may alliterate even if they precede the noun,
With a unique rhetorical flair, they can alliterate even when they come before the noun,
The pronoun selfand the pronouns compounded with the prefix ǣ (ǣghwā, ǣghwylc, &c.) are usually accented, and alliterate if they form the first arsis of the hemistich, as
The pronoun self and the pronouns that combine with the prefix ǣ (ǣghwā, ǣghwylc, etc.) are generally stressed and alliterate when they appear at the beginning of the hemistich, as
Prepositions, conjunctions, and particles are not as a rule accented, but prepositions if followed by an enclitic pronoun take the accent and alliterate, as
Prepositions, conjunctions, and particles usually aren’t stressed, but prepositions that are followed by an enclitic pronoun do get the stress and alliterate, as
Whether words of these classes, standing in the first arsis of the first hemistich along with another alliterating word, were intended also to alliterate is somewhat uncertain, but it is probable that they were so, as in
Whether words of these types, positioned in the first arsis of the first hemistich along with another alliterating word, were also meant to alliterate is somewhat unclear, but it seems likely that they were, as in
These laws of accentuation are strictly observed only in the older poetry; by the end of the tenth century, in Byrhtnoth, the Metres of Boethius and the Psalms, they are frequently neglected.
These rules of accentuation are only strictly followed in older poetry; by the end of the tenth century, in Byrhtnoth, the Metres of Boethius, and the Psalms, they are often overlooked.
§ 36. Arrangement and relationship of verse and sentence. The following rules hold good in general for the distribution of the sentence or parts of the sentence between the hemistichs of the verse. Two distinct pauses occur in every alliterative line, one (commonly called the caesura) between the first and second hemistichs, the other at the end of the line, and these pauses are determined by the syntactical construction; that is to say, they coincide with the end of a clause or lesser member of the sentence. The hemistich must contain such parts of the sentence as belong closely together; and such coherent parts, as, for example, a pronoun and noun to which it refers or adverb with adjective, must not be separated from one another by the caesura, unless the pronoun or adverb is placed in the second arsis of the hemistich, as
§ 36. Arrangement and relationship of verse and sentence. The following rules generally apply to how the sentence or parts of the sentence are distributed between the hemistichs of the verse. There are two distinct pauses in every alliterative line: one (commonly called the caesura) between the first and second hemistichs, and the other at the end of the line. These pauses are determined by the syntactical structure; that is, they align with the end of a clause or smaller part of the sentence. The hemistich should contain parts of the sentence that are closely related; for example, a pronoun and the noun it refers to, or an adverb and the adjective it modifies, should not be separated by the caesura unless the pronoun or adverb is positioned in the second arsis of the hemistich, as
In Beowulf this separation of closely connected words is permitted only if the word standing in the arsis alliterates at the same time. Longer parts of a sentence may be separated both by the caesura and the pause at the end of the line. The syntactical connexion between the parts of a sentence thus broken up makes the unity of the parts clear, and when the division occurs in the caesura between the two halves of the verse, the alliteration common to both hemistichs serves further to emphasize this unity.
In Beowulf, this separation of closely connected words is allowed only if the word in the arsis also has alliteration at the same time. Longer parts of a sentence can be split up by both the caesura and the pause at the end of the line. The syntactical connection between these broken parts of a sentence makes their unity clear, and when the division happens in the caesura between the two halves of the verse, the alliteration shared by both hemistichs further emphasizes this unity.
The single alliterative lines are connected with one another by the prevailing usage of ending the sentence not at the end of the completed line, but at the end of the first hemistich or in the middle of the line, and of beginning a new sentence with the second hemistich. The great variety of expression, and the predilection for paraphrase by means of synonyms which is so characteristic of OE. poetry, contribute to make such breaks in the line easy. Whatever may be the explanation, it is certainly the fact that in the OE. poetry the metrical and syntactical members do sometimes coincide, but at other times overlap in a way which does not admit of being reduced to rule.[86]
The individual alliterative lines are connected to each other by the common practice of ending sentences not at the close of the full line, but at the end of the first half-line or in the middle of the line, starting a new sentence with the second half-line. The wide range of expression and the tendency to paraphrase using synonyms, which are characteristic of Old English poetry, make such breaks in the line manageable. Whatever the reason might be, it's clear that in Old English poetry, the metrical and syntactical elements sometimes align, but at other times, they overlap in ways that can't be reduced to rule.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
The Lengthened Verse
§ 37. Besides the normal four-beat line (with two beats to each hemistich) there is in OE. and Old Saxon another variety, the lengthened line (Schwellvers) with three beats in each hemistich.[87] These verses occur in almost all OE. poems, either isolated or more commonly in groups, and occasionally we find lines with one hemistich of two beats and the second hemistich of three, like.
§ 37. In addition to the standard four-beat line (with two beats per hemistich), Old English and Old Saxon also have another type, the lengthened line (Schwellvers), which has three beats in each hemistich. [87] These lines appear in nearly all Old English poems, either individually or, more often, in groups. Occasionally, we also find lines where one hemistich has two beats and the second hemistich has three, like.
and Jud.96, Crist1461, &c., or with a lengthened hemistich of three beats and a normal hemistich of two beats, like
and Jud.96, Crist1461, &c., or with a longer half-line of three beats and a regular half-line of two beats, like
and Sat.605, Gnom. Ex.200, &c.
and Sat.605, Gnom. Ex.200, etc.
In the Psalms and in Cynewulf’s Juliana they are wanting entirely, in Cynewulf’s Elene out of 1321 verses there are only fourteen lengthened whole lines, and three lengthened hemistichs. Examples of groups of these lengthened verses will be found in Gen. 44–46, 1015–1019, 2167–2169, 2854–2858; Exodus 569–573, Dan. 59–106, 203–205, 226–228, 238–246, 262–271, 435–438, 441, 448, 452–458; Judith 2–12, 16–21, 30–34, 54–61, 63–68, 88–99, 272–274, 289–291, 338–349; Satan 202, 232, 237, 605, Crist 621, 889, 922, 1050, 1382–1386, &c., and in many of the smaller poems.[88]
In the Psalms and in Cynewulf’s Juliana, they are completely absent; in Cynewulf’s Elene, out of 1321 lines, there are only fourteen full lines that are lengthened, and three lengthened half-lines. Examples of groups of these lengthened lines can be found in Gen. 44–46, 1015–1019, 2167–2169, 2854–2858; Exodus 569–573, Dan. 59–106, 203–205, 226–228, 238–246, 262–271, 435–438, 441, 448, 452–458; Judith 2–12, 16–21, 30–34, 54–61, 63–68, 88–99, 272–274, 289–291, 338–349; Satan 202, 232, 237, 605, Crist 621, 889, 922, 1050, 1382–1386, &c., and in many of the smaller poems.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
Lengthened verses of a looser type occur in Salomon and Saturn, and Genesis B; they have unusually long theses of four or five unaccented syllables after the first accented syllable, as
Lengthened verses of a more relaxed style appear in Salomon and Saturn and Genesis B; they feature unusually long phrases with four or five unaccented syllables following the first accented syllable, as
or have equally long anacruses before the first accented syllable, as
or have similarly long anacruses before the first stressed syllable, as
It is not always possible to draw a sharp distinction between regular lines with somewhat long first theses and lengthened lines. The general tone and rhythm of the passage in question help to determine whether we have the normal or the lengthened line before us. The lengthened line occurs in places where the sense demands a solemn and slow rhythm, in other cases where the movement of the passage is quicker we may assume a normal four-beat line with a long anacrusis, or a polysyllabic thesis in the middle of the hemistich. What distinguishes clearly undoubted examples of the lengthened verse is that in each hemistich we find three beats and three feet of equal and independent value. But, as in the usual two-beat hemistich of the normal line, both beats need not be equally strong, so in the three-beat hemistich the three beats do not always stand on the same footing as regards stress, nor does the position of the stronger beat require to be always the same in the two hemistichs. The beats which are accompanied by alliteration are, generally speaking, stronger than those without alliteration. In the employment of alliteration and in the structure of the hemistich the lengthened line is closely allied to the normal line.
It’s not always easy to clearly separate regular lines with somewhat long first phrases from extended lines. The overall tone and rhythm of the passage help us figure out if we’re dealing with a normal line or an extended line. The extended line appears where the meaning calls for a serious and slow rhythm, while in cases where the passage moves faster, we can assume a typical four-beat line with a long introductory syllable or a multi-syllabic phrase in the middle of the half-line. What sets apart clear examples of the extended verse is that in each half-line, we find three beats and three feet of equal and independent importance. However, just like in the usual two-beat half-line of a normal line, the two beats don’t have to be equally strong; similarly, in the three-beat half-line, the three beats don't always carry the same level of stress, nor does the placement of the stronger beat have to be consistent in both half-lines. Generally, the beats accompanied by alliteration are stronger than those without. In its use of alliteration and in the structure of the half-line, the extended line is closely related to the normal line.
Alliteration. 1. The first hemistich has commonly two alliterative sounds, which fall as a rule on the first and second beats:
Alliteration. 1. The first hemistich usually has two alliterative sounds, which typically land on the first and second beats:
more rarely on the second and third beats, as in
more rarely on the second and third beats, as in
sometimes on the first and third beats, as
sometimes on the first and third beats, as
Now and then we find hemistichs with three alliterations:
Now and then we come across half-lines with three alliterations:
and others with one alliteration only, in which case the alliteration falls more rarely on the first beat, as
and others with just one alliteration, where the alliteration happens less often on the first beat, as
than on the second, as
than on the second, as
2. In the second hemistich the chief alliterative sound, the head-stave, generally falls on the second accented syllable, as in the last example, and only exceptionally on the first accented syllable, as
2. In the second half-line, the main alliterative sound, the head-stave, usually falls on the second stressed syllable, like in the last example, and only rarely on the first stressed syllable, as
Gnome. Example 51.
§ 38. The origin and structure of the lengthened verse. It is clear from the comparative infrequency and the special use to which it is put that the lengthened line must be looked upon as originating in some way from the normal four-beat line. Two explanations of its development have been given. The first, which is Sievers’s original view,[90] is that a foot or measure with the form –́... (i.e. one accented syllable plus several unaccented ones) was prefixed to one of the five normal types; hence –́× prefixed to A would give the form –́×|–́×–́×, and –× prefixed to B would give –́×|×–́×–́. The other explanation, given by Luick,[91] is that the lengthened hemistich is due to a blending of several types of the normal kind in this way. The hemistich starts with the beginning of one of the normal types A, B, C, then with the second accented syllable another type is begun and continued, as if the poet found the original beginning inadequate to express his emotion.
§ 38. The origin and structure of the lengthened verse. It’s clear from how infrequent and specifically it’s used that the lengthened line must have come from the regular four-beat line in some way. Two explanations have been proposed for its development. The first, which is Sievers’s original view, [90] suggests that a foot or measure in the form –́... (i.e. one stressed syllable followed by several unstressed ones) was added to one of the five standard types; thus, –́× added to A would create the form –́×|–́×–́×, and –× added to B would create –́×|×–́×–́. The other explanation, provided by Luick, [91] indicates that the lengthened hemistich is the result of combining several types of the regular kind this way. The hemistich starts with the beginning of one of the standard types A, B, C, and then, with the second stressed syllable, another type is initiated and continued, as if the poet found the original start insufficient to convey his feelings.
The manner in which the blending of two normal types results in new lengthened types of three beats will be seen in the following illustrations:
The way two normal types combine to create new elongated types of three beats will be shown in the following illustrations:
A | –́×–́× |
+C | ×–́–́× |
gives AC, | –́×–́–́×; |
A | –́×–́× |
+D | –́–́×̀× |
gives AD, | –×–́–́×̀×; |
B | ×–́×–́ |
+C | ×–́–́× |
gives BC, | ×–́×–́–́× |
B | ×–́×–́ |
+A | –́×–́× |
gives BA, | ×–́×–́×–́×; |
C | ×–́–́× |
+A | –́×–́× |
gives CA, | ×–́–́×–́× |
A | –́×–́× |
+A | –́×–́× |
gives AA, | –́×–́×–́× |
As Prof. Sievers himself[92] has accepted this theory (or, at least, has recognized it as a convenient method of exhibiting the structural varieties of the lengthened line), we shall adopt it here.
As Prof. Sievers himself[92] has accepted this theory (or, at least, has acknowledged it as a useful way of showing the different structures of the extended line), we will use it here.
Of the fifteen different possible combinations of the original types, some do not actually occur, but with the sub-types to be taken into consideration we get no less than eighteen different types of the regular lengthened whole line, and these again admit of variations by means of resolution of accented syllables, polysyllabic theses, &c.
Of the fifteen different possible combinations of the original types, some don't actually happen, but when you consider the sub-types, we have at least eighteen different types of the regular lengthened whole line. These also allow for variations through the resolution of accented syllables, polysyllabic theses, etc.
Only the most commonly occurring forms of the lengthened hemistich will be given here; for the others the reader may be referred to Sievers.[93].
Only the most frequently seen forms of the extended hemistich will be provided here; for the others, the reader can refer to Sievers.[93].
–́×...–́×.–́×,
–́×...–́×.–́×,
as in
like
or with resolution of the first accented syllable in the first hemistich,
or with the resolution of the first accented syllable in the first half-line,
and in the second hemistich,
and in the second half,
with resolution of the second accented syllable in the second hemistich,
with the resolution of the second accented syllable in the second half-line,
or of each of the three accented syllables in the second hemistich,
or of each of the three stressed syllables in the second half-line,
The chief variation of this type arises from the prolongation of the first thesis, which may run from one to six syllables. At the same time the usual resolutions may be introduced, as in the following examples: Ordinary type, –́××||–́×|–́×, very common,
The main variation of this type comes from extending the first beat, which can be one to six syllables long. At the same time, the usual resolutions can be included, as in the following examples: Ordinary type, –́××||–́×|–́×, very common,
with resolution of the first accented syllable,
with the resolution of the first stressed syllable,
with resolution of the last two accented syllables,
with the resolution of the last two accented syllables,
type with trisyllabic thesis, –́×××||–́×|–́×,
type with three-syllable thesis, –́×××||–́×|–́×,
with resolution of the first accented syllable,
with resolution of the first stressed syllable,
thesis of four to six syllables, (–́×.....||–́×|–́×),
thesis of four to six syllables, (–́×.....||–́×|–́×),
Less frequently the second foot has two unaccented syllables, and in that case the first foot has either one or sometimes two unaccented syllables, thus
Less often, the second foot has two unaccented syllables, and in that case, the first foot has either one or sometimes two unaccented syllables, so
(i) –́×||–́××|–́×, or (ii) –́××||–́××|–́×,
(i) –́×||–́××|–́×, or (ii) –́××||–́××|–́×,
as (i) saā́ þū Ábele wū̀rde. Gen. 1019;
as (i) you Ábele became. Gen. 1019;
with resolution of the first arsis,
with the resolution of the first arsis,
(ii) rínca tō rū̀ne gegángan. Jud. 54.
(ii) rínca tō rū̀ne gegángan. Jud. 54.
Type A2A, –́×̀–́×–́×, which is type AA with secondary accent on the first thesis, occurs, according to Sievers, some twenty times, and always in the first hemistich. Examples are,
Type A2A, –́×̀–́×–́×, which is type AA with a secondary accent on the first thesis, appears, according to Sievers, about twenty times, and always in the first hemistich. Examples are,
with resolution of the last arsis,
with the resolution of the final arsis,
with disyllabic second thesis,
with a two-syllable second thesis,
Type A*A, –́.×̀×|–́×.|–́×, which is AA strengthened and with disyllabic first thesis, is nearly as common as A2A, and is always in the first hemistich, as for example,
Type A*A, –́.×̀×|–́×.|–́×, which is AA strengthened and has a two-syllable first part, is almost as common as A2A and is always in the first half-line, as for example,
with trisyllabic first thesis,
with a three-syllable first thesis,
Type A B, –́×...–́×.–́, some thirty instances equally distributed between the first and second hemistichs. Examples are,
Type A B, –́×...–́×.–́, about thirty examples evenly split between the first and second halves. Examples are,
Type A C, –́×...–́–́×, about twenty-nine instances, of which more than the half occur in the first hemistich, as
Type A C, –́×...–́–́×, about twenty-nine times, with more than half occurring in the first hemistich, as
saType A D, –́×..–́–́××̀, is rarer, occurring about twelve times, apparently only in the first hemistich, as
saType A D, –́×..–́–́××̀, is rarer, happening around twelve times, seemingly only in the first half.
Type A E, –́×..–́×̀×.–́, somewhat more common than the last, and in both hemistichs, as
Type A E, –́×..–́×̀×.–́, is somewhat more common than the previous one, and in both halves, as
Type B A, ×.–́×...–́×.–́×, about 120 instances, has as its simplest form, ×–́×–́×–́×, as
Type B A, ×.–́×...–́×.–́×, with about 120 examples, has its simplest form as ×–́×–́×–́×, as
with disyllabic thesis after the first arsis, ×–́××–́×–́×, as
with disyllabic thesis after the first arsis, ×–́××–́×–́×, as
with trisyllabic thesis, ×–́×××–́×–́×, as
with trisyllabic thesis, ×–́×××–́×–́×, as
the initial thesis or anacrusis is rarely disyllabic.
the initial thesis or anacrusis is rarely made up of two syllables.
Type B B, ×.–́×...–́×.–́, about nine times and mostly in the first hemistichs, as
Type B B, ×.–́×...–́×.–́, about nine times and mostly in the first half of the line, as
with resolution of two of the accented syllables,
with the resolution of two of the stressed syllables,
Type B C, × . . –́× . . . –́–́ ×, nearly as common as the last and nearly always in the first hemistich, as
Type B C, × . . –́× . . . –́–́ ×, almost as common as the last and usually found in the first half-line, as
Type B D, ×.–́×..–́–́×̀×, about sixteen times, and in either hemistich, as
Type B D, ×.–́×..–́–́×̀×, about sixteen times, and in either hemistich, as
Type C A, ×–́–́×.–́×, with some fifteen examples, of which eight are in the first hemistich, as
Type C A, ×–́–́×.–́×, with around fifteen examples, eight of which appear in the first half, as
Type C C, ×....–́–́–̆́×, occurs only nine times, of which six are in the second hemistich, as
Type C C, ×....–́–́–̆́×, appears only nine times, with six occurring in the second half of the line, as
with resolution of the first accented syllable,
with the resolution of the first stressed syllable,
Other combinations are given by Sievers, Altgermanische Metrik, § 95, but these occur so rarely or are so doubtful that they need not be mentioned here. A few lengthened hemistichs have four beats, as
Other combinations are provided by Sievers, Altgermanische Metrik, § 95, but these are so rare or uncertain that they don't need to be discussed here. Some extended hemistichs have four beats, as
and others in Sievers’s Altgermanische Metrik, § 96.
and others in Sievers’s Altgermanische Metrik, § 96.
Formation of Stanzas and Rhyme.
§ 40. OE. poetry is mainly narrative, and does not run into any kind of recurring stanza or strophe, but is entirely stichic. Traces of an arrangement of lines so as to form a stanza are found in Dēor, the Runic Poem, the Psalms and Hymns, the so-called First Riddle, and in the Gnomic verses of the Exeter Book, which may be compared to the Old French ‘tirades’.[94]
§ 40. Old English poetry is primarily narrative and doesn’t feature any sort of recurring stanza or verse structure; instead, it is completely linear. Signs of line arrangements that could create stanzas can be seen in Dēor, the Runic Poem, the Psalms and Hymns, the so-called First Riddle, and in the Gnomic verses of the Exeter Book, which can be compared to the Old French 'tirades'.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
On the other hand, end-rhyme of the two hemistichs, combined with alliteration, is not very uncommon, though in most cases it seems only an incidental ornament, as
On the other hand, end rhyme of the two half-lines, along with alliteration, isn’t very uncommon, though in most cases it seems to be just a decorative touch, as
In the Rhyming Poem of the Exeter Book we have eighty-seven lines in which the first and second hemistichs rhyme throughout, and in some passages of other poems, noticeably in the Elene, vv. 114–115, and vv. 1237–1251, in which Cynewulf speaks in his own person, or Crist 591–595, And. 869–871, 890, Gūthl. 801, Phoen. 15–16, 54–55; assonance is found not unfrequently alongside of perfect rhyme, as in Gūthl. 802, Phoen. 53. These places are sufficient to prove a systematic and deliberate use of rhyme, which serves to accentuate the lyrical tone of the passages.
In the Rhyming Poem of the Exeter Book, there are eighty-seven lines where the first and second hemistichs rhyme consistently. This is also evident in other poems, notably in the Elene, vv. 114–115, and vv. 1237–1251, where Cynewulf speaks in first person, or Crist 591–595, And. 869–871, 890, Gūthl. 801, Phoen. 15–16, 54–55. Additionally, assonance is often found alongside perfect rhyme, as seen in Gūthl. 802, Phoen. 53. These examples are enough to demonstrate a systematic and intentional use of rhyme, which enhances the lyrical quality of the passages.
Monosyllabic rhymes such as nān: tān (Rhym. Poem 78), rād: gebā́d (ib. 16), onlā́h: onwrā́h (ib. 1) are called masculine, and disyllabic rhymes like wóngum: góngum (ib. 7), géngdon: méngdon (ib. 11), or trisyllabic hlýnede: dýnede (ib. 28), swínsade: mínsade (ib. 29), bífade: hlífade (ib. 30), are called feminine.
Monosyllabic rhymes like nān: tān (Rhym. Poem 78), rād: gebā́d (ib. 16), and onlā́h: onwrā́h (ib. 1) are known as masculine, while disyllabic rhymes such as wóngum: góngum (ib. 7), géngdon: méngdon (ib. 11), or trisyllabic pairs like hlýnede: dýnede (ib. 28), swínsade: mínsade (ib. 29), bífade: hlífade (ib. 30), are referred to as feminine.
According to their position in the hemistich, rhymes fall into two classes (a) interior rhymes like hónd rónd gefḕng Beow. 2609, stī́ðmṑd gestṓd Beow. 2567, in compounds wórd-hòrd ontḗac Beow. 259, in co-ordinate formulae like þā wæs sǣ́l and mǣ́l Beow. 1008, wórdum and bórdum El. 24, grund ond sund And. 747, and as so-called grammatical rhymes lāð wið lāðum Beow. 440, béarn æfter béarne, Gen. 1070; (b) sectional rhymes joining the two halves of one line, as
According to their position in the hemistich, rhymes are classified into two categories: (a) interior rhymes like hónd rónd gefḕng Beow. 2609, stī́ðmṑd gestṓd Beow. 2567, in compounds like wórd-hòrd ontḗac Beow. 259, in coordinate formulas such as þā wæs sǣ́l and mǣ́l Beow. 1008, wórdum and bórdum El. 24, grund ond sund And. 747, and the so-called grammatical rhymes lāð wið lāðum Beow. 440, béarn æfter béarne, Gen. 1070; (b) sectional rhymes that connect the two halves of a single line, as
not unfrequently, very often in the Rhyming Poem, two, three, four or more alliterative lines are connected in this fashion.
Not infrequently, quite often in the Rhyming Poem, two, three, four, or more alliterative lines are linked together in this way.
The OE. end rhymes are either (a) complete rhymes as hond: rond, gefǣ́gon: geþǣ́gon, or (b) assonances, in which only the vowels correspond, as wæf: læs El. 1238; wrā́ðum: ā́rum Crist. 595; lúfodon: wúnedon And. 870; that the assonances are not accidental is clear from the fact that they occur alongside of perfect rhymes.[95]
The OE. end rhymes are either (a) complete rhymes like hond: rond, gefǣ́gon: geþǣ́gon, or (b) assonances, where only the vowels match, like wæf: læs El. 1238; wrā́ðum: ā́rum Crist. 595; lúfodon: wúnedon And. 870; it's clear that the assonances aren’t random since they appear alongside perfect rhymes.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
CHAPTER III
THE FURTHER DEVELOPMENT OF THE FREER
FORM OF THE ALLITERATIVE LINE IN LATE
OLD ENGLISH AND EARLY MIDDLE ENGLISH
A. Transitional Forms.
§ 41. Increasing frequency of Rhyme. The alliterative line was, as we have seen, the only kind of verse known in English poetry down to the end of the Old English period. In the eleventh century, however, the strict conventions which governed the use of alliteration began to be relaxed and, at the same time, end-rhyme began to invade the alliterative line, and by this means it was resolved in the course of time into two separate lines. The process by which this came about is of great importance in enabling us to follow the further development of English versification. It has two varieties:—
§ 41. Increasing frequency of Rhyme. The alliterative line was, as we have seen, the only type of verse known in English poetry until the end of the Old English period. In the eleventh century, however, the strict rules that governed the use of alliteration started to loosen, and at the same time, end-rhyme began to creep into the alliterative line. Over time, this led to the creation of two separate lines. Understanding how this happened is essential for tracking the further evolution of English verse. It has two varieties:—
1. Systematic combination of end-rhyme and alliteration.
1. A structured mix of end-rhyme and alliteration.
2. Unintentional or accidental combination of rhyme and alliteration.
2. Unintentional or accidental mixing of rhyme and alliteration.
The former—the intentional combination of rhyme with alliteration—never became popular in Old English; indeed, the few examples previously quoted are all that have been preserved. In these examples the hemistichs of each line conform to the ancient rules with regard to their rhythmic and alliterative structure, but are more uniform in type than was usual in the older poetry, and are more closely paired together by the use of final rhyme, which occurs in all its three varieties, monosyllabic, disyllabic, and trisyllabic.
The first—the deliberate mix of rhyme and alliteration—never really caught on in Old English; in fact, the few examples mentioned before are all that have survived. In these examples, the half-lines of each line follow the old rules about their rhythm and alliteration, but they're more consistent in type than what was common in earlier poetry, and they’re more tightly linked by the use of end rhyme, which appears in all three forms: monosyllabic, disyllabic, and trisyllabic.
The rhythm of the verse is mostly descending, Type A being the prevalent form, while Types D and E occur more rarely. The Types B and C, however, are also found. Possibly this kind of verse was formed on the model of certain Mediaeval Latin rhymed verses, or, somewhat more probably, on that of the Old Norse ‘runhenda’, as this poetic form may have been made known in England by the Old Norse poet, Egil Skallagrimsson, who in the tenth century had lived in England and twice stayed at the court of King Æõelstan.
The rhythm of the verse mostly goes down, with Type A being the most common, while Types D and E are seen less often. Types B and C are also present, though. This kind of verse might have been inspired by certain Medieval Latin rhymed verses or, more likely, by the Old Norse ‘runhenda’, as this poetic form could have been introduced in England by the Old Norse poet, Egil Skallagrimsson, who lived in England in the tenth century and spent time at King Æthelstan's court twice.
Isolated instances of rhyme or assonance may be met with even in the oldest Old English poems. For certain standing expressions linked by such a similarity of sound, mostly causing interior rhyme (i.e. rhyme within a hemistich), were admitted now and then in alliterative poetry, e.g.
Isolated examples of rhyme or assonance can be found even in the earliest Old English poems. Certain fixed phrases connected by similar sounds, mostly creating internal rhyme (i.e. rhyme within a half-line), were occasionally included in alliterative poetry, for example,
In other cases such rhymes are to be found at the end of two hemistichs,
In other cases, such rhymes can be found at the end of two half-lines,
Examples of this kind occur not unfrequently in several early OE. poems, but their number increases decidedly in the course of time from Beowulf, Andreas, Judith, up to Byrhtnoth and Be Dōmes dæge.
Examples of this kind happen quite often in several early Old English poems, but their number clearly increases over time, from Beowulf, Andreas, Judith, to Byrhtnoth and Be Dōmes dæge.
From the two last-mentioned poems, still written in pure alliterative verse, a few examples of rhyming-alliterative verses, or of simply rhymed verses occurring accidentally among the normal alliterative lines, may also be quoted here:
From the last two poems mentioned, which are still written in pure alliterative verse, a few examples of rhyming-alliterative verses, or simply rhymed verses that occur by chance among the regular alliterative lines, can also be quoted here:
Thus it may be taken for granted that end-rhyme would have come into use in England, even if Norman-French poetry had never been introduced, although it is certainly not to be denied that it only became popular in England owing to French influence.
Thus it can be assumed that end-rhyme would have come into use in England, even if Norman-French poetry had never been introduced, although it is definitely true that it only became popular in England because of French influence.
But can this influence explain the gradually increasing use of end-rhyme in some OE. poems written shortly before the Norman Conquest (as e.g. Byrhtnoth, Be Dōmes dæge, the poetical passage in the Saxon Chronicle of the year 1036), or are we to attribute it to the influence of mediaeval hymn poetry, or, lastly, to the lingering influence of the above-mentioned Old Norse ‘runhenda’? It is not easy to give a decided answer to these questions.
But can this influence explain the gradually increasing use of end-rhyme in some Old English poems written shortly before the Norman Conquest (like Byrhtnoth, Be Dōmes dæge, the poetic passage in the Saxon Chronicle from the year 1036), or should we credit it to the impact of medieval hymn poetry, or, finally, to the lasting influence of the earlier mentioned Old Norse ‘runhenda’? It’s not easy to provide a definite answer to these questions.
In any case it would appear that towards the end of the Old English period combined Mediaeval Latin and French influence on English metre became of considerable importance on account of the constantly growing intercourse between the British isles and the continent. This may be seen in the more frequent use of rhyme, as indeed was only to be expected in consequence of the increasing popularity of Norman-French and Mediaeval-Latin poetry in England and the reception of Norman-French words into the language.
In any case, it seems that towards the end of the Old English period, the influence of Medieval Latin and French on English meter became significantly important due to the increasing interaction between the British Isles and the continent. This is evident in the more frequent use of rhyme, which was to be expected given the rising popularity of Norman-French and Medieval-Latin poetry in England and the adoption of Norman-French words into the language.
This combination of alliteration and rhyme, however, only becomes conspicuous to a considerable extent for the first time in the above-mentioned passage of the Saxon Chronicle, and in another passage of the year 1087.[96]
This combination of alliteration and rhyme, however, only becomes noticeable to a significant degree for the first time in the previously mentioned passage of the Saxon Chronicle, and in another passage from the year 1087.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
The chief difference between these verses and those of the Rhyming Poem is this, that the former have not such a symmetrical structure as the latter, and that rhyme and alliteration are not combined in all of them, but that regular alliterative lines, rhyming-alliterative lines, and lines with rhyme only occur promiscuously, as e.g. in the following lines (4–7) of the above-mentioned passage of the Chronicle of the year 1036:
The main difference between these verses and those of the Rhyming Poem is that the former don't have as symmetrical a structure as the latter. Additionally, rhyme and alliteration aren't combined in every instance. Instead, you'll find regular alliterative lines, rhyming-alliterative lines, and lines with rhyme only mixed together, as shown in the following lines (4–7) from the mentioned passage of the Chronicle of the year 1036:
The verses of the year 1087 of the Saxon Chronicle have a similar but on the whole less rhythmical structure. In some of the lines the hemistichs are neither joined by alliteration, nor by end-rhyme, but merely by the two-beat rhythm of each of them; cf. 11. 1–5:
The verses from the year 1087 in the Saxon Chronicle have a similar but overall less rhythmic structure. In some lines, the half-lines aren’t connected by alliteration or end rhyme, but just by the two-beat rhythm of each; cf. 11. 1–5:
On the other hand, the poetical piece of the Saxon Chronicle on Eadweard of the year 1065 is written in perfectly regular alliterative lines.
On the other hand, the poetic section of the Saxon Chronicle about Eadweard from the year 1065 is composed in perfectly regular alliterative lines.
These two ways of treating the old alliterative line which occur in the latter part of the Saxon Chronicle, and which we will call the progressive and the conservative treatment, indicate the course which this metre was to take in its further development. Out of the long alliterative line, separated by the caesura into two hemistichs, again connected by rhyme, there sprang into existence a short rhyming couplet. This was by no means identical with the three-beat couplet evolved from two rhyming hemistichs of a line on the model of the French Alexandrine, nor with the short four-beat couplets modelled on the French vers octosyllabe, but had points of similarity enough to both, especially to the former one, to be easily used in conjunction with them, as several Early English poems show.
These two approaches to the traditional alliterative line found in the later sections of the Saxon Chronicle, which we’ll refer to as the progressive and conservative treatments, show the direction this meter would take in its future development. From the long alliterative line, divided by a pause into two half-lines and later united by rhyme, there emerged a short rhyming couplet. This was not the same as the three-beat couplet that developed from two rhyming half-lines modeled after the French Alexandrine, nor was it the short four-beat couplets based on the French vers octosyllabe, but it had enough similarities to both, especially the former, to be easily used alongside them, as seen in several Early English poems.
The conservative treatment of the old alliterative line, which probably at no time was altogether discontinued, was revived in the thirteenth and especially in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, when it degenerated again in the same way as the progressive line had done several centuries before.
The traditional use of the old alliterative line, which likely was never completely abandoned, was brought back in the thirteenth century and especially during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, when it once again declined in the same manner that the progressive line had centuries earlier.
B. The ‘Proverbs of Alfred’ and Layamon’s ‘Brut’.
§ 43. The first subject which we have to consider here is the further development of the progressive form of the alliterative line, the representatives of which[98] are closely connected in their rhythmic form with the two specimens of the poetical parts of the Saxon Chronicle quoted above. From Alfred’s Proverbs we take No. xv (ll. 247–66):
§ 43. The first topic we need to discuss here is the continued evolution of the progressive form of the alliterative line, which[98] is closely linked in its rhythmic structure to the two examples from the poetic sections of the Saxon Chronicle mentioned earlier. From Alfred’s Proverbs, we take No. xv (ll. 247–66):
The metre of Layamon’s Brut may be illustrated by the following passage (ll. 13841–13882):
The meter of Layamon’s Brut can be shown with the following passage (ll. 13841–13882):
These extracts illustrate only the general metrical character of the two literary monuments, the versification of which in many passages considerably deviates from the type here exhibited. It frequently shows a still more arbitrary mixture of the different kinds of verse, or a decided preference for some of them over the others. But the examples given will suffice to show that here, as in the two passages from the Saxon Chronicle quoted above, we have four different kinds of verse distinguished by the different use of rhyme and alliteration, viz.:
These excerpts only show the general rhythmic style of the two literary works, which often varies significantly from what’s presented here. It often displays an even more random mix of different types of verse or a clear preference for some over others. However, the examples provided are enough to demonstrate that, as in the two excerpts from the Saxon Chronicle mentioned earlier, we have four distinct types of verse characterized by their different uses of rhyme and alliteration, namely:
1. Regular alliterative lines, which are very numerous, and at least in the first half of Layamon’s Brut, possibly throughout the poem, form the bulk, e.g. Prov. xv. 247–8, Layamon, 13847–8, 13851–2, 13855–6, 13859–60, 13867–8, 13881–2, or
1. Regular alliterative lines, which are quite common, and likely found throughout the first half of Layamon’s Brut and possibly the entire poem, make up the majority, for example, Prov. xv. 247–8, Layamon, 13847–8, 13851–2, 13855–6, 13859–60, 13867–8, 13881–2, or
2. Rhyme (or assonance) and alliteration combined; equally numerous, e.g. Prov. xv. 253–4, Lay. 13841–2, 13845–6, 13869–70, &c., or
2. Rhyme (or assonance) and alliteration combined; equally numerous, e.g. Prov. xv. 253–4, Lay. 13841–2, 13845–6, 13869–70, &c., or
3. Verses with rhyme (or assonance) only, without alliteration, also not unfrequent, e.g. Prov. xv. 249–50 ff., or Lay. 13853–4, &c.
3. Verses that use rhyme (or assonance) only, without alliteration, are also fairly common, for example, Prov. xv. 249–50 ff., or Lay. 13853–4, etc.
4. Four-beat verses without either rhyme or alliteration, occurring comparatively rarely, and in most cases probably to be attributed to corruption of the text. Examples:
4. Four-beat verses without rhyme or alliteration happen quite rarely, and in most cases, they can probably be traced back to text corruption. Examples:
It is certain that these four different forms of verse cannot have been felt by the poets themselves as rhythmically unlike; their rhythmic movement must have been apprehended as essentially one and the same.
It’s clear that these four different types of verse couldn’t have felt rhythmically different to the poets themselves; their rhythmic patterns must have been perceived as essentially the same.
§ 44. Nature and origin of this metre. Theories of Trautmann and Luick. We need not here discuss the theory of Prof. Trautmann, who endeavours to show that the hemistichs of Layamon’s verse were composed in imitation of the four-beat short-lined metre in which the Old High German poet Otfrid had written his religious poem Krist, a form which, according to Trautmann and his followers, had been frequently employed in late Old English and early Middle English poetry. References to the criticisms of this hypothesis, by the present writer and others, are given by G. Körting in his Encyklopädie der Englischen Philologie, p. 388, and by K. Luick in Paul’s Grundriss der Germanischen Philologie, ed. 2, II. ii. 152. The author of this book, in his larger work on the subject (Englische Metrik, i. §§ 67–73), has shown, as English and German scholars had done before him, that Layamon’s verse has its roots in the Old English alliterative line. Twelve years after the publication of that work this theory received further confirmation at the hands of Prof. Luick, who has shown in Paul’s Grundriss (l.c.) that the five types of the Old English alliterative line, discovered by Prof. Sievers, reappear (although in a modified form) in the lines of Layamon’s Brut. But we are unable wholly to agree with Prof. Luick’s view on the origin and nature of this metre.
§ 44. Nature and origin of this meter. Theories of Trautmann and Luick. We don’t need to discuss Professor Trautmann's theory here, which claims that the hemistichs of Layamon’s verse were created in imitation of the four-beat short-lined meter used by the Old High German poet Otfrid in his religious poem Krist. This form, according to Trautmann and his supporters, was frequently used in late Old English and early Middle English poetry. For critiques of this hypothesis by the current writer and others, see G. Körting in his Encyklopädie der Englischen Philologie, p. 388, and by K. Luick in Paul’s Grundriss der Germanischen Philologie, ed. 2, II. ii. 152. The author of this book, in his larger work on the topic (Englische Metrik, i. §§ 67–73), has demonstrated, like previous English and German scholars, that Layamon’s verse is rooted in the Old English alliterative line. Twelve years after that work was published, this theory received further support from Professor Luick, who showed in Paul’s Grundriss (l.c.) that the five types of the Old English alliterative line identified by Professor Sievers appear again (though in a modified form) in the lines of Layamon’s Brut. However, we do not entirely agree with Professor Luick’s perspective on the origin and nature of this meter.
In order to explain the origin of Layamon’s verse he starts from the hypothesis of Prof. Sievers[99] that the Old Germanic alliterative verse, as historically known, which was intended to be recited, and therefore not restricted to uniformity of rhythm, originated from a primitive Old Germanic verse meant to be sung, and therefore characterized by rhythmic regularity. According to Prof. Luick this primitive metre, although not represented by any extant example in Old English, had never quite died out, and forms the basis of the metre of Layamon and his predecessors in early Middle English. For this ingenious hypothesis, however, no real evidence exists. On the contrary, the fact that the beginnings of the peculiar kind of metre used by Layamon can be traced back to purely alliterative Old English poems, where they occur amongst regular alliterative lines, and therefore undoubtedly must be of the same rhythmical structure, seems to be decisive against Prof. Luick’s theory.
To explain the origin of Layamon's verse, he references Prof. Sievers' hypothesis that the Old Germanic alliterative verse, as it is historically understood, was designed to be recited and wasn't confined to a strict rhythm. It originated from a primitive Old Germanic verse meant to be sung, characterized by rhythmic consistency. Prof. Luick argues that although this primitive meter isn't represented by any surviving examples in Old English, it never completely faded away and serves as the foundation for the meter used by Layamon and his early Middle English predecessors. However, there’s no solid evidence for this clever hypothesis. On the contrary, the origins of the unique meter used by Layamon can be traced back to purely alliterative Old English poems, which appear among regular alliterative lines and thus surely share the same rhythmic structure, making it a strong counterargument to Prof. Luick's theory.
For the same reason it is impossible to follow Prof. Luick in regarding Layamon’s line as having an even-beat rhythm, and containing not only two primary accents, but two secondary accents as well. A further strong objection to this view is to be found in the circumstance, that in the early part of Layamon’s Brut, although rhyme already occurs not unfrequently, alliterative lines decidedly predominate; in the passage consisting of forty long lines (ll. 106–185, quoted in our Altenglische Metrik, pp. 152–3), we have thirty-three regular alliterative lines and only five rhymed lines, two of which are alliterative at the same time. Even in the middle portion of Layamon’s Chronicle, where the poet, as Prof. Luick thinks, must have attained to a certain skill in handling his metre, alliterative lines are in some passages quite as numerous as rhymed ones. In the passage quoted above (p. 68), for example, which consists of twenty-one long lines, eleven of them are alliterative and ten are rhymed. On the other hand, in the continuation of this passage (quoted Altengl. Metrik, p. 156), containing twenty-nine long lines, the reverse is the case, the number of alliterative lines being only seven, and that of rhymed and assonant lines twenty-two in all; of the latter, however, eleven are alliterative at the same time.
For the same reason, it's impossible to agree with Prof. Luick's view that Layamon's line has a steady rhythm and contains not only two primary accents but also two secondary accents. A major objection to this perspective is that in the early part of Layamon’s Brut, even though rhyme appears fairly often, alliterative lines clearly dominate; in a section made up of forty long lines (ll. 106–185, quoted in our Altenglische Metrik, pp. 152–3), there are thirty-three regular alliterative lines and only five rhymed lines, two of which are alliterative as well. Even in the middle section of Layamon’s Chronicle, where the poet, according to Prof. Luick, must have developed some skill in using his metre, alliterative lines are at times just as common as rhymed ones. In the example cited above (p. 68), for instance, which contains twenty-one long lines, eleven are alliterative while ten are rhymed. Conversely, in the continuation of this passage (quoted Altengl. Metrik, p. 156), which has twenty-nine long lines, the situation is reversed, with only seven alliterative lines and twenty-two rhymed and assonant lines in total; however, out of the latter, eleven are alliterative as well.
While then it might be admissible to speak of progressive neglect of alliteration and of increasing predilection for end-rhyme on the part of the poet, as he advances with his work, it is not in accordance with the facts to assert that ‘alliteration had ceased to play its former part, and had been reduced to the level of a mere ornament of the verse’. On the contrary, in the first part of the Chronicle alliteration is the predominant form, and, as the work advances, it is still used to a considerable extent as a means to connect the two hemistichs or short lines so as to form one long line. The strict laws formerly observed in the use of alliteration, it is true, are not unfrequently disregarded, chiefly with respect to the head-stave, which often falls on the fourth accented syllable of the long line; and other licences (first occurring in Ælfric’s Metrical Homilies) may be met with. Nevertheless both Alfred’s Proverbs and Layamon’s Brut (as is sufficiently shown by the many specimens quoted in our Altenglische Metrik, pp. 150 ff.), contain a great number of perfectly regular alliterative lines. The fact that, in the second half of Layamon’s Chronicle, end-rhyme is used more and more frequently as a means to connect the two hemistichs, is with much more probability to be explained by the continual occupation of the poet with the Norman-French original poem, and by the increasing influence which its short octosyllabic couplets must naturally have exercised upon his own rhythms, than by a supposed intention of the poet to write in ‘primitive Germanic four-beat song-metre’, the very existence of which is hypothetical. Furthermore, the fact that in some (not all or even most) of the passages, where end-rhyme is used almost exclusively, e.g. in the passage quoted above (ll. 13883–940), an even-beat rhythm is distinctly noticeable, can be explained quite naturally by the influence of the Norman-French original, the even-measured verses of which the poet was translating.
While it might seem acceptable to say that the poet gradually neglects alliteration and favors end-rhyme more as he progresses, it’s not accurate to claim that “alliteration has stopped playing its previous role and has become merely an ornament of the verse.” On the contrary, in the first part of the Chronicle, alliteration is the dominant form, and as the work develops, it is still used significantly to connect the two half-lines into one longer line. It's true that the strict rules previously followed in using alliteration are often ignored, particularly regarding the head-stave, which frequently lands on the fourth accented syllable of the long line; other liberties (first seen in Ælfric's Metrical Homilies) can also be found. Nevertheless, both Alfred’s Proverbs and Layamon's Brut (as shown by the numerous examples quoted in our Altenglische Metrik, pp. 150 ff.) contain many perfectly regular alliterative lines. The fact that in the second half of Layamon’s Chronicle, end-rhyme is used more and more to connect the two half-lines is much more likely due to the poet’s ongoing engagement with the Norman-French original poem and the increasing influence that its short octosyllabic couplets must have had on his own rhythms, rather than a supposed intention of the poet to write in ‘primitive Germanic four-beat song-metre,’ the very existence of which is speculative. Additionally, the fact that in some (but not all or even most) passages where end-rhyme is used almost exclusively, like in the quoted passage (ll. 13883–940), a consistent rhythm is clearly noticeable can be easily explained by the influence of the Norman-French original, whose even-measured verses the poet was translating.
But even supposing that Layamon intended to use the primitive Germanic four-beat song-metre in his translation of Wace’s Chronicle, although it certainly was not intended for singing, what can have been his reason for composing the first half of his work, and a very considerable portion of the rest, in a rhythmical form which only to a small extent shows the peculiarities of a rhyming even-beat metre, whereas the main part of it consists of the native unevenly stressed alliterative verse? It is quite incorrect to say that the author in the course of his work not unfrequently fell back into the alliterative verse. The fact is just the opposite: the author started by using the native alliterative verse to which he was accustomed, and gradually came to adopt the rhymed verse of the Norman-French chronicle which he was translating, without, however, entirely giving up the former metre. Alliteration and end-rhyme, which he used sometimes separately and sometimes in combination, were evidently looked upon by Layamon as equally legitimate means for connecting his hemistichs or short lines.
But even if Layamon intended to use the basic Germanic four-beat song meter in his translation of Wace’s Chronicle, which definitely wasn’t meant for singing, what could have been his reason for writing the first half of his work, and a significant portion of the rest, in a rhythmical style that only slightly reflects the characteristics of a rhyming even-beat meter, while the main content consists of the native unevenly stressed alliterative verse? It's completely wrong to say that the author frequently slipped back into the alliterative verse during his work. The truth is the opposite: he started with the native alliterative verse he was used to and gradually began to adopt the rhymed verse of the Norman-French chronicle he was translating, without fully abandoning the earlier meter. Layamon clearly saw alliteration and end-rhyme, which he sometimes used separately and sometimes together, as equally valid ways to connect his hemistichs or short lines.
§ 45. Number of stresses. Quite as unfounded as the assertion that Layamon’s verse is of an even-beat nature is the other assertion that it contains two primary and two secondary accents, and that the second of these secondary accents in verses with disyllabic endings may fall on a syllable which by its etymology ought to have no accent.
§ 45. Number of stresses. Just as baseless as the claim that Layamon’s verse has a consistent beat is the claim that it features two primary and two secondary accents, and that the second of these secondary accents in verses with two-syllable endings might fall on a syllable that, based on its origin, shouldn’t have any accent.
This statement is refuted by the treatment of rhyme in Layamon’s Brut and in some earlier poems of a similar form or containing the same kind of verse.
This statement is challenged by how rhyme is handled in Layamon’s Brut and in some earlier poems of a similar style or that feature the same type of verse.
Not only in the Brut, but also in several Old English and earlier Middle English poems, we meet both with regular rhymes and with simple assonances and other still more imperfect correspondences in sound intended to serve as rhymes.
Not just in the Brut, but also in various Old English and earlier Middle English poems, we encounter both regular rhymes and simple assonances, along with other even less perfect sound correspondences that are meant to function as rhymes.
Examples of actual rhyme in the Brut are the monosyllabic pairs: seon: beon 13837–8, king: þing 13883–4, cniht: riht 13887–8; besides inexact rhymes like mon: anān 13605–6, 13615–16, mon: dōn 13665–6, 13677–8, wīn: in 14349–50, 14998–9, chin: wīn 14994–5; disyllabic rhymes: icúmen: gúmen 13787–8, gṓde: flṓde 13791–2, sṓhten: rṓhten 13803–4, ṓðer: brṓðer 13841–2, chī̀lde: wī́lde 13870–1, pḗre: hḗre 13871–2, hálle: álle 13981–2. We see no reason to accent these last-mentioned rhymes differently from similar rhymes occurring in Old English poems, as e.g. wédde: aspḗdde Andr. 1633, wúnne: blúnne ib. 1382, bewúnden: gebúnden Jud. 115, stúnde: wúnde Byrhtn. 271, &c.
Examples of actual rhyme in the Brut include the monosyllabic pairs: seon: beon 13837–8, king: þing 13883–4, cniht: riht 13887–8; as well as inexact rhymes like mon: anān 13605–6, 13615–16, mon: dōn 13665–6, 13677–8, wīn: in 14349–50, 14998–9, chin: wīn 14994–5; disyllabic rhymes: icúmen: gúmen 13787–8, gṓde: flṓde 13791–2, sṓhten: rṓhten 13803–4, ṓðer: brṓðer 13841–2, chī̀lde: wī́lde 13870–1, pḗre: hḗre 13871–2, hálle: álle 13981–2. We see no reason to stress these last-mentioned rhymes differently from similar rhymes found in Old English poems, such as wédde: aspḗdde Andr. 1633, wúnne: blúnne ib. 1382, bewúnden: gebúnden Jud. 115, stúnde: wúnde Byrhtn. 271, &c.
Examples of the more numerous group formed by assonances are tō : idōn 13801–2, lond: gold 13959–60, strong: lond 13969–70, and disyllabic assonances like cníhten: kínges 13793–4, wólden: londe 13821–2, &c.
Examples of the larger group created by assonances are tō : idōn 13801–2, lond: gold 13959–60, strong: lond 13969–70, and disyllabic assonances like cníhten: kínges 13793–4, wólden: londe 13821–2, etc.
These are strictly parallel with instances like wæf: læs El. 1238, onlā́g: hād ib. 1246, or like wrā́ðum: ā́rum Crist 595, lýre: cýme Phoen. 53, rǣ́dde: tǣ́hte By. 18, flā́nes: genāme ib. 71, hlḗorum: tḗarum Be Dōmes dæge 28, &c., and must, in our opinion, be metrically interpreted in exactly the same way. That is to say, the root-syllable must, not only in real assonances like cníhten: kínges, lónde: strónge, but also in consonances like Péohtes: cníhtes, mónnen: ínnen, be looked upon as the chief part of the rhyme, and the flexional endings, whether rhyming correctly or incorrectly, must be regarded as forming only an unessential, unaccented, indistinctly heard part of the rhyme, just as they admittedly do in the similar Old English assonances quoted above.
These are directly comparable to examples like wæf: læs El. 1238, onlā́g: hād ib. 1246, or like wrā́ðum: ā́rum Crist 595, lýre: cýme Phoen. 53, rǣ́dde: tǣ́hte By. 18, flā́nes: genāme ib. 71, hlḗorum: tḗarum Be Dōmes dæge 28, &c., and we believe they should be interpreted metrically in exactly the same way. This means that the root-syllable should be viewed as the main component of the rhyme, not only in true assonances like cníhten: kínges, lónde: strónge, but also in consonances like Péohtes: cníhtes, mónnen: ínnen. The flexional endings, whether they rhyme correctly or not, should be seen as merely an unessential, unaccented, and indistinctly heard part of the rhyme, as they clearly are in the similar Old English assonances mentioned above.
Now, as it is inconsistent with the two-beat rhythm of the hemistich in Old English verse, to attribute a secondary accent to those endings, although they were in some cases more distinctly pronounced than the Middle English endings, it is impossible to suppose that the Middle English endings bore a secondary accent. A further objection is that although the syllables which, according to Luick’s theory, are supposed to bear a secondary accent are of course usually preceded by a long root-syllable, it not unfrequently happens that a disyllabic word with long root-syllable rhymes with one having a short root-syllable, in which case the ending is not suited to bear a secondary accent at all, e.g. flúȝen: únnifṓge 14043–4, to-fóren: grḗten 14071–2, sǣ́res: wólde 14215–16, fáreð: iuḗren 14335–6, icúmen: Þréoien 14337–8, lágen (=laws): lónde 14339–40, húnden: lúuien 14480–1, scóme: sṓne 14604–5, cúmen: hálden 14612–13, scípe: brṓhte 14862–3, fáder: unrǣ́des 14832–3, fáder: rǣ́des 14910–11, fṓten: biscópen 14821–2, iwī́ten: scipen 14251–2, wī́ten: wenden 15060–1, gúme: bisī́den 15224–5, fréondscìpe: séoluen 15226–7, wúde: wéien-lǣ́len 15508–9, ibóren: béarne 15670–1, biȝáte: wéorlde-rī́che 15732–3, scáðe: fólke 15784–5, biswíken (pret. pl.): cráften 29016–17, aȝíuen: ȝélden 29052–3, biuóren: fū̀sen 29114–15, súne: pḗode 29175–6, idríuen: kínerī́chen 29177–18, grúpen (pret. pl.): mū̀ȝen 29279–80, stúden (=places): bérnen 29285–6, &c.
Now, since it doesn't match the two-beat rhythm of the hemistich in Old English verse to assign a secondary accent to those endings, even though they were sometimes pronounced more clearly than the Middle English endings, it's hard to believe that the Middle English endings carried a secondary accent. Another issue is that, although the syllables that Luick’s theory suggests should have a secondary accent are usually preceded by a long root-syllable, it often occurs that a disyllabic word with a long root-syllable rhymes with one that has a short root-syllable. In this case, the ending isn't suitable to have a secondary accent at all, e.g. flúȝen: únnifṓge 14043–4, to-fóren: grḗten 14071–2, sǣ́res: wólde 14215–16, fáreð: iuḗren 14335–6, icúmen: Þréoien 14337–8, lágen (=laws): lónde 14339–40, húnden: lúuien 14480–1, scóme: sṓne 14604–5, cúmen: hálden 14612–13, scípe: brṓhte 14862–3, fáder: unrǣ́des 14832–3, fáder: rǣ́des 14910–11, fṓten: biscópen 14821–2, iwī́ten: scipen 14251–2, wī́ten: wenden 15060–1, gúme: bisī́den 15224–5, fréondscìpe: séoluen 15226–7, wúde: wéien-lǣ́len 15508–9, ibóren: béarne 15670–1, biȝáte: wéorlde-rī́che 15732–3, scáðe: fólke 15784–5, biswíken (pret. pl.): cráften 29016–17, aȝíuen: ȝélden 29052–3, biuóren: fū̀sen 29114–15, súne: pḗode 29175–6, idríuen: kínerī́chen 29177–18, grúpen (pret. pl.): mū̀ȝen 29279–80, stúden (=places): bérnen 29285–6, &c.
The only cases in which a secondary accent seems to be required for an unaccented final syllable are such rhymes as the following:—hálì: forþí 13915–16 (cf. Altengl. Metrik, p. 160); men: cómèn 13997–8 (MS. B: men: here), men: dédèn 13975–6, isómned wés: lóndès 25390–1, and so forth.[100] But rhymes of this kind are in comparison to the ordinary disyllabic or feminine endings so very rare (occurring, for the most part, in lines which admit of a purely alliterative scansion, or which have come down to us in an incorrect state), that they have no bearing on the general rhythmic accentuation of those final syllables, or on the rhythmic character of Layamon’s verses in general (cf. p. 78, end of § 47).
The only situations where a secondary accent seems necessary for an unaccented final syllable are rhymes like the following:—hálì: forþí 13915–16 (see Altengl. Metrik, p. 160); men: cómèn 13997–8 (MS. B: men: here), men: dédèn 13975–6, isómned wés: lóndès 25390–1, and so on.[100] However, such rhymes are quite rare compared to ordinary disyllabic or feminine endings (mostly appearing in lines that allow a strictly alliterative scansion or which have been transmitted to us in an incorrect form), so they don't affect the overall rhythmic accentuation of those final syllables or the rhythmic quality of Layamon’s verses in general (see p. 78, end of § 47).
§ 46. Analysis of verse-types. In turning now to a closer examination of the rhythmic structure of the metre in Layamon’s Brut and in the somewhat earlier Proverbs of Alfred, we are glad to find ourselves more nearly than hitherto (though still not altogether) in agreement with the views of Prof. Luick.
It is no small merit of his to have shown for the first time that the five types of rhythmic forms pointed out by Sievers as existing in the alliterative line are met with also in each of the four forms of verse of Layamon’s Brut and of the Proverbs. And here it is of interest to note that not only are the normal types of frequent occurrence (chiefly in the Proverbs), but the extended types also, especially in Layamon’s Brut, are met with even more frequently.
It’s quite an achievement that he was the first to show that the five types of rhythmic patterns identified by Sievers in the alliterative line also appear in all four verse forms of Layamon’s Brut and in the Proverbs. It's interesting to point out that not only are the standard types common (mostly in the Proverbs), but the extended types are found even more often, particularly in Layamon’s Brut.
On account of our limited space only a few examples of each of the five types can be given in this handbook.
Due to our limited space, we can only provide a few examples of each of the five types in this handbook.
Instead of quoting hemistichs or isolated short lines as examples of each of the single types A, B, C, D, E, we prefer always to cite two connected short lines, and to designate the rhythmic character of the long line thus originating by the types of the two hemistichs, as follows: A + A, A* + B, B* + C, C* + E, &c., where A*, B*, C* signify the extended types, to be discussed more fully below, and A, B, C, &c., the normal types. This mode of treatment is necessary in order that our examples may adequately represent the structure of the verse. The short lines are always connected—either by alliteration, by rhyme (or assonance), or by both combined, or sometimes merely by identity of rhythm—into pairs. These pairs of short lines are regarded by Luick as even-measured couplets, while we regard them as alliterative long lines; but on either view each of them forms a coherent unity. We believe that an examination of the couplet or long line as an undivided whole will show unmistakably that the assumption of the even-measured character of Layamon’s verse is erroneous, or at least that it applies only in certain cases, when the metre is strongly influenced by Romanic principles of versification. The examples are for the most part the same as those which Prof. Luick has quoted,[101] but we have in all cases added the complementary hemistichs, which are generally of somewhat greater length:
Instead of quoting half-lines or isolated short lines as examples of each type A, B, C, D, E, we prefer to always cite two connected short lines and describe the rhythmic character of the longer line created by the types of the two half-lines, as follows: A + A, A* + B, B* + C, C* + E, etc., where A*, B*, C* represent the extended types that will be discussed in more detail below, and A, B, C, etc., indicate the normal types. This method is necessary so that our examples can accurately reflect the structure of the verse. The short lines are always linked—either by alliteration, by rhyme (or assonance), or by a combination of both, or sometimes simply by matching rhythm—into pairs. Luick views these pairs of short lines as evenly measured couplets, while we see them as alliterative long lines; however, in both perspectives, each pair forms a cohesive unit. We believe that examining the couplet or long line as a single entity will clearly demonstrate that the assumption of the even-measured nature of Layamon’s verse is incorrect, or at least that it only applies in certain cases where the meter is strongly influenced by Romanic principles of versification. The examples are mostly the same as those Prof. Luick quoted, but we have added the complementary half-lines, which are generally a bit longer:
A + A: Ich hátte Héngest, | Hórs is my bróðer. Lay. 13847–8.
A + A: I had Hang-ups, | Hórs is my brother. Lay. 13847–8.
A*+ A: and ích be wulle rǽchen | déorne rúnen. ib. 14079–80.
A*+ A: and I will reach | secret runes. ib. 14079–80.
B + A: þær þa sǽxisce mén | þæ sǽ isóhten. ib. 14738-9.
B + A: the six men | the sea is sought. ib. 14738-9.
B(E?) + A: hw hi héore líf | léde schólde. Prov. i. 15–16.
B(E?) + A: How he should lead life. Prov. i. 15–16.
A + B: lónges lýves, | ac him lýeþ þe wrénch. ib. x. 161–2.
A + B: long lives, | and him ley the wrench. ib. x. 161–2.
B*+ A: vmbe fíftene ȝér | þat fólc is isómned. Lay. 13855–6.
B*+ A: in the fifteenth year | that people is gathered. Lay. 13855–6.
B + C: and eoure léofue gódd | be ȝe tó lúteð. ib. 13891–2.
B + C: and your love is good | to you too little. ib. 13891–2.
B + C: ne wurð þu néver so wód, | ne so wýn-drúnke. Prov. xi. 269–70.
B + C: never be so wild, | nor so wine-drunk. Prov. xi. 269–70.
A + C: mi gást hine iwdárðeð | and wírð stílle. Lay. 17136–7.
A + C: My guest will be honored | and prosperity will be peaceful. Lay. 17136–7.
C + C: for þat wéorc stóndeð | inne Írlónde. ib. 17176–7.
C + C: for that work stands | in Ireland. ib. 17176–7.
A*+ D: kómen to þan kínge | wíl-tíþende. ib. 17089–90.
A*+ D: kómen to þan kínge | wíl-tíþende. ib. 17089–90.
D + A*: vólc únimete | of móni ane lónde. ib. 16188–9.
D + A*: vólc únimete | of móni ane lónde. ib. 16188–9.
E + E: fíf þusend mén | wúrcheð þer ón. ib. 15816–17.
E + E: five thousand men | work there on. ib. 15816–17.
B*+ E: þæt he héfde to iwíten | séouen hundred scíþen. ib. 15102–3.
B*+ E: that he had to provide | seven hundred shields. ib. 15102–3.
D + *A: for nys no wrt uéxynde | a wúde ne a wélde. Prov. x. 168–9.
D + *A: for now no want unknown | a wood not a wild. Prov. x. 168–9.
A*+ D: þat éuer mvwe þas féye | fúrþ ýp-holde. ib. 170–1.
A*+ D: that ewer mvwe þas féye | fúrþ ýp-holde. ib. 170–1.
It is easy to observe that it is only when two identical types, like A + A, C + C, E + E, are combined, that an even-beat rhythm (to some extent at least) can be recognized; in all the other combinations this character is entirely absent.
It’s clear that only when two identical types, like A + A, C + C, E + E, are combined can an even-beat rhythm (to some extent) be recognized; in all the other combinations, this characteristic is completely absent.
§ 47. Extended types. We now turn to the more numerous class of such couplets or long lines which in both their component hemistichs exhibit extended variations of the five types, resulting from anacrusis or from the insertion of unstressed syllables in the interior of the line. These verses, it is true, are somewhat more homogeneous, and have a certain resemblance to an even-beat rhythm in consequence of the greater number of unaccented syllables, one of which (rarely two or more) may, under the influence of the even-beat metre of the Norman-French original, have been meant by the poet to be read with a somewhat stronger accentuation. We are convinced, however, that in feminine endings, in so far as these are formed, which is usually the case, by the unaccented endings -e, -en, -es, -eþ, &c., these final syllables never, or at most only in isolated cases, which do not affect the general character of the rhythm, have a stronger accent or, as Prof. Luick thinks, form a secondary arsis. As little do we admit the likelihood of such a rhythmic accentuation of these syllables when they occur in the middle of the line, generally of such lines as belong to the normal types mentioned above.
§ 47. Extended types. Now, let's look at the larger group of such couplets or long lines, where both parts show variations of the five types, arising from anacrusis or from adding unstressed syllables within the line. These verses are indeed a bit more uniform and have some similarity to an even rhythm because of the higher count of unstressed syllables, one of which (sometimes two or more) might, influenced by the even-beat meter of the original Norman-French, have been intended by the poet to be read with slightly stronger emphasis. However, we are confident that in feminine endings, which are usually created by the unstressed endings -e, -en, -es, -eþ, etc., these final syllables rarely, if ever, have a stronger accent or, as Prof. Luick suggests, form a secondary emphasis. Similarly, we do not see a likelihood of such rhythmic emphasis on these syllables when they appear in the middle of the line, particularly in lines that fit the normal types mentioned earlier.
It is convenient, however, to adopt Luick’s formulas for these common forms of Layamon’s verse, with this necessary modification, that we discard the secondary accent attributed by him to the last syllable of the types A, C, D, accepting only his types B and E without any change. We therefore regard the normally constructed short lines of Layamon’s metre—so far as they are not purely alliterative lines of two accents, but coupled together by rhyme or assonance, or by alliteration and rhyme combined—as belonging to one or other of the following two classes: (1) lines with four accents and masculine or monosyllabic endings (types B and E); and (2) lines of three accents and feminine or disyllabic endings (types A, C, D). In this classification those unaccented syllables which receive a secondary stress are, for the sake of brevity, treated as full stresses—which, indeed, they actually came to be in the later development of the metre, and possibly to some extent even in Layamon’s own verse.
It’s convenient, though, to use Luick’s formulas for these common forms of Layamon’s verse, with one important change: we’ll ignore the secondary accent he assigns to the last syllable of types A, C, and D, only accepting his types B and E as they are. So, we see the typically structured short lines of Layamon’s meter—as long as they aren’t just alliterative lines with two accents, but are linked together by rhyme, assonance, or a mix of both—as fitting into one of two categories: (1) lines with four accents and masculine or monosyllabic endings (types B and E); and (2) lines with three accents and feminine or disyllabic endings (types A, C, D). In this classification, those unaccented syllables that get a secondary stress are treated as full stresses for the sake of simplicity—which, in fact, they eventually became in the later evolution of the meter, and possibly to some degree even in Layamon’s own verse.
Assuming the correctness of this view, the chief types of Layamon’s verse may be expressed by the following formulas, in which the bracketed theses are to be considered optional:
Assuming this view is correct, the main types of Layamon’s verse can be represented by the following formulas, where the bracketed parts are optional:
As these types may be varied by resolutions in the same way as the primary types, there arise various additional formulas such as the following:
As these types can be altered by resolutions just like the primary types, several additional formulas come up, such as the following:
Other variations may be effected by disyllabic or even polysyllabic theses in the beginning (‘anacruses’) or in the middle of the verse instead of monosyllabic theses.
Other variations can be made by using disyllabic or even poly-syllabic theses at the beginning (‘anacruses’) or in the middle of the verse instead of monosyllabic theses.
Apart from these another frequently occurring variation of type C must be mentioned which corresponds to the formula (×)×̀×–́×–́×, and may be designated (with Professors Paul and Luick) as type Ca, because the position of its accented syllables points to type C, while on the other hand it bears a certain resemblance to type A.
Apart from these, another common variation of type C should be noted, which corresponds to the formula ×)×̀×–́×–́×. This can be referred to (along with Professors Paul and Luick) as type Ca, because the position of its accented syllables indicates type C, while it also resembles type A to some extent.
The following examples, many of which have been quoted before by Luick, may serve to illustrate these types of short lines or rather hemistichs and their combination in couplets or long lines, in which a normal hemistich is often followed by a lengthened one and vice versa:
The following examples, many of which have been mentioned before by Luick, can help illustrate these types of short lines, or rather hemistichs, and how they combine in couplets or longer lines, where a standard hemistich is often followed by an extended one, and vice versa:
A* + A*: | Stróng hit ìs to rówe | ayèyn þe sée þat flóweþ. Prov. x. 145–6. |
A* + A*: | And swá heo gùnnen wénden | fórð tò þan kínge. Lay. 13811–12. |
A* + A*: | ne míhte wè bilǽue | for líue nè for dǽþe. Lay. ib. 13875–6. |
B + A*: | ùmbe fíftène ȝer | þat fólc is isómned. ib. 13855–6. |
A* + C*: | ǽveràlche ȝére | heo bèreð chíld þére. ib. 13871–2. |
B* + B*: | þèr com Héngest, þèr com Hórs, | þèr com míni mòn ful óht. ib. 14009–10. |
B* + B*: | ànd þe clérek ànd þe knýht, | he schùlle démen èuelyche ríht. Prov. 4:78-79. |
Ca+ C*: | þèr þes cníhtes cómen | bifòren þan fólc-kínge. Lay. 13817–18. |
C* + A*: | ȝìf heo gríð sóhten, | and of his fréondscipe róhten? ib. 13803–4. |
C* + Ca: | hìt beoð tíðénde | ìnne Sǽxe lónde. ib. 14325–6. |
A* + C*: | for he wólde wìð þan kínge | hòlden rúnínge. ib. 14069–70. |
A* + D*: | heo sǽden tò þan kínge | néowe tíðènden. ib. 13996–7. |
A* + D*: | and míd him bròuhte hére | an húndred rídǣ̀ren. ib. 15088–9. |
E* + B*: | Hǽngest wès þan kìnge léof | ànd him Líndesàȝe géf. ib. 14049–50. |
Types with resolutions:
Types with resolutions:
A* + A*: | and þús þìne dúȝeþe | stílle hè fordémeð. ib. 14123–4. |
A* + B*: | Wóden hèhde þa hǽhste làȝe | an ùre ǽldèrne dǽȝen. ib. 13921–2. |
The first hemistich of the last line offers a specimen of a variation of the ordinary types with feminine endings (chiefly of A, C, and Ca), designated by Prof. Luick as A1, C1, Ca1, and showing the peculiarity that instead of the ending –́× somewhat fuller forms occur, consisting either of two separate words or of a compound word, and thus corresponding either to the formula –́×̀, or, if there are three syllables, to the formula –́××̀, or in case of a resolution (as in the above example) to the formula –́×⏑́×. We differ from Prof. Luick, however, in admitting also endings corresponding to the formula ⏑́×̀×.
The first half of the last line shows a variation of the usual types with feminine endings (mainly A, C, and Ca), labeled by Prof. Luick as A1, C1, Ca1. This variation is unique because instead of the ending –́×, we see somewhat fuller forms that are either made up of two separate words or a compound word. Therefore, they fit either the formula –́×̀, or, if there are three syllables, the formula –́××̀, or in cases of a resolution (as in the example above) to the formula –́×⏑́×. However, we disagree with Prof. Luick by also accepting endings that correspond to the formula ⏑́×̀×.
As a rule, if not always, such forms of verse are occasioned by the requirements of rhyme. This is not the case, it is true, in the following purely alliterative line:
As a rule, if not always, these types of verse are caused by the needs of rhyme. However, this isn't the case in the following purely alliterative line:
but in other verses it is so, e.g.:
but in other verses it is like this, for example:
and similarly (not corresponding to –́××̀, as Prof. Luick thinks):
and similarly (not matching –́××̀, as Prof. Luick believes):
but the formula –́××̀is represented by the following verses:
but the formula –́××̀is shown in the following lines:
In the last but one of these examples this accentuation is corroborated in the Jesus College MS. by the written accent on the word gódne, whereby not only the rhyme -lyng: king is shown to be an unaccented one, but at the same time the two-beat rhythm of the hemistich is proved as well as that of the preceding hemistich. Moreover, the alliteration in all these examples is a further proof of the two-beat character of their rhythm.
In the second to last example, this emphasis is confirmed in the Jesus College manuscript by the written accent on the word gódne. This not only indicates that the rhyme -lyng: king is unaccented, but it also proves the two-beat rhythm of this hemistich, as well as that of the previous hemistich. Additionally, the alliteration in all these examples further supports the two-beat nature of their rhythm.
§ 48. It was owing to the use of these two more strongly accented syllables in each verse which predominate over the other syllables, whether with secondary accents or unaccented, that the poets, who wrote in this metre, found it possible to regard the different kinds of verse they employed as rhythmically equivalent. These were as follows: (1) purely alliterative lines with hemistichs of two stresses, (2) extended lines of this kind with secondary accents in the middle of the hemistich, (3) rhyming-alliterative or merely rhyming lines with a feminine ending and a secondary accent in the middle of the verse, or with a masculine ending and two secondary accents, one on the last syllable, as is also the case with the corresponding verses mentioned under the second heading. These two last-mentioned verse-forms are very similar to two popular metres formed on the model of Romanic metres. The former of them—the hemistich with three stresses (one of which is secondary) and feminine ending, together with the much rarer variety that has a masculine ending—resembles the sections of the Alexandrine; and the hemistich with a masculine ending (more rarely a feminine) and four stresses (two of which have secondary accents only) is similar to the short four-beat couplet, and also to the first section of the Septenary line (the second section being similar to the former three-beat group). It is, therefore, not to be wondered at that this metre of Layamon in its different forms (that of the purely alliterative line included) is in several Middle English poems, chiefly in The Bestiary, employed concurrently (both in separate passages and in the same passage) with the above-mentioned foreign metres formed on Romanic or mediaeval-Latin models. By this fact the influence of the Romanic versification on the origin and development of this form of the native verse gains increased probability.[102]
§ 48. The use of these two more prominently stressed syllables in each line, which overshadow the other syllables, whether they have secondary stresses or none at all, allowed poets who wrote in this meter to see the various types of verses they used as rhythmically equivalent. These types are: (1) purely alliterative lines with half-lines of two stresses, (2) extended lines like this with secondary stresses in the middle of the half-line, (3) rhyming-alliterative lines or just rhyming lines with a feminine ending and a secondary stress in the middle of the line, or with a masculine ending and two secondary stresses, one on the last syllable, similar to the corresponding lines mentioned in the second category. The last two verse forms are quite similar to two popular meters based on Romanic models. The first of these—a half-line with three stresses (one of which is secondary) and a feminine ending, along with the much rarer type that has a masculine ending—resembles parts of the Alexandrine; and the half-line with a masculine ending (less frequently a feminine) and four stresses (two of which only have secondary accents) is like the short four-beat couplet and also the first part of the Septenary line (with the second part resembling the former three-beat group). Therefore, it's not surprising that this meter used by Layamon in its different forms (including the purely alliterative line) appears in several Middle English poems, especially in The Bestiary, used alongside the previously mentioned foreign meters based on Romanic or medieval-Latin models, reinforcing the idea that Romanic versification had a significant impact on the development of this native verse form. probability.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
The limits of our space do not permit of further discussion of this peculiar metre, which, as presented in the extant examples, appears rather as in process of development than as a finished product, and of which a complete understanding can be attained only by elaborate statistical investigation.
The limits of our space don’t allow for more discussion of this unique meter, which, from the existing examples, seems more like a work in progress than a finished product, and a full understanding can only be achieved through detailed statistical analysis.
C. The progressive form of the alliterative line, rhymed throughout. ‘King Horn.’
The use of final rhyme becomes constant, and consequently alliteration, although remnants of it still are noticeable even in short lines connected together, becomes more and more scarce.[103]
The unaccented syllables are interposed between the accented ones with greater regularity; and among the unaccented syllables the one (or, in some sub-species of the verse, more than one) which is relatively stronger than the rest receives full metrical stress, or at least nearly approaches the fully-stressed syllables in rhythmical value.
The unaccented syllables are placed between the accented ones more consistently; and among the unaccented syllables, the one (or, in some variations of the verse, more than one) that is relatively stronger than the others gets full metrical stress, or at least comes close to the fully-stressed syllables in rhythmic value.
The prevailing rhythmical form of this poem is exemplified by the following verses, which for the sake of convenience we print here, not in the form of couplets (as the editors, quite justifiably, have done), but in that of long lines as they are written in the Harleian MS.:
The main rhythmic structure of this poem is shown in the following lines, which we present here for convenience, not in couplets (as the editors have reasonably done), but as long lines as they appear in the Harleian MS.:
This form occurs in more than 1300 out of the 1530 short lines of which the poem consists. It is evident that the rhythm of these lines is nearly the same as in the following taken from earlier poems:
This form appears in over 1300 out of the 1530 short lines that make up the poem. It's clear that the rhythm of these lines is almost the same as in the following examples taken from earlier poems:
If those syllables which have the strongest accent in the unaccented parts of these verses are uttered a little more loudly than was usual in the alliterative line the rhythm becomes exactly the same as in the corresponding verses of King Horn, where the three-beat rhythm already has become the rule.
If the syllables that have the strongest emphasis in the unaccented parts of these lines are spoken a bit louder than usual in the alliterative line, the rhythm matches perfectly with the corresponding lines of King Horn, where the three-beat rhythm has already become the standard.
but somewhat oftener in one of them, as in the following:
but a bit more often in one of them, like in the following:
Of this type of verse a great many examples are of course to be met with in the earlier alliterative poems:
Of this type of verse, there are definitely many examples found in the earlier alliterative poems:
The third type (three beats with masculine ending), which is of rarer occurrence, is represented by the following lines:
The third type (three beats with a masculine ending), which happens less often, is shown in these lines:
As corresponding lines of earlier poems may be quoted:
As we can quote lines from earlier poems:
The fourth type (four beats with masculine ending), which occurs somewhat oftener, has the following form:
The fourth type (four beats with a strong ending), which happens somewhat more often, has this structure:
The corresponding rhythm of the earlier poems occurs in verses like:
The same rhythm found in the earlier poems shows up in lines like:
The fifth type (four beats with feminine endings) is represented by the following verses:
The fifth type (four beats with feminine endings) is represented by these verses:
As corresponding verses of earlier poems we quote:
As we quote matching lines from earlier poems:
The circumstance that these different types of verse occur in different poems promiscuously makes it evident that they must all have been developed from one original rhythmical form. It is clear that this fundamental type can only be found in the old two-beat alliterative hemistich, the more so as this kind of verse is the very metre in which the earlier poems Byrhtnoth and Be Dōmes Dæge for the greatest part are written, and which is exemplified in about a third part of the poetical piece of the Saxon Chronicle of 1036 and a fifth part of the later-piece of 1087, and again very frequently in Alfred’s Proverbs and in Layamon’s Brut, and which still can be traced as the original rhythm of King Horn
The fact that these different types of verse appear in various poems randomly shows that they must all have come from one original rhythmical form. It's clear that this basic type is found only in the old two-beat alliterative hemistich, especially since this kind of verse is the very meter in which the earlier poems Byrhtnoth and Be Dōmes Dæge are mostly written. It is also exemplified in about a third of the poetry in the Saxon Chronicle of 1036 and a fifth of the later piece from 1087, as well as frequently in Alfred’s Proverbs and in Layamon’s Brut, and it can still be traced as the original rhythm of King Horn.
§ 50. The evidence of the metre of this poem, showing its affinity to the alliterative line and its historical origin from it, is so cogent that it is unnecessary to discuss the theories of Prof. Trautmann and the late Dr. Wissmann, both of whom, although from different points of view, agree in ascribing a four-beat rhythm to this metre.[106]
§ 50. The evidence of the meter in this poem clearly shows its connection to the alliterative line and its historical origins, making it unnecessary to debate the theories of Prof. Trautmann and the late Dr. Wissmann. Both scholars, despite their different perspectives, agree that this meter.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ has a four-beat rhythm.
The frequent use again in this poem of the types of line occurring in Layamon’s Brut, as pointed out by Prof. Luick (l. c.), puts the close connexion of the metre of King Horn with that form of the alliterative line beyond doubt. We cannot, however, in conformity with the view we have taken of Layamon’s verse, agree with Prof. Luick in assigning a secondary accent to the last syllable of the feminine ending of the ordinary three-beat verse, in which the greater part of King Horn is written. Prof. Luick himself does not insist upon that particular point so strongly for this poem as he did for the earlier poems written in a similar metre.
The frequent use of the line types found in Layamon’s Brut, as noted by Prof. Luick, clearly shows the close connection between the meter of King Horn and that style of alliterative line. However, based on our interpretation of Layamon’s verse, we can't agree with Prof. Luick that the last syllable of the feminine ending in the standard three-beat verse—which is how most of King Horn is composed—should be given a secondary accent. Prof. Luick himself doesn't stress that point as much for this poem as he did for the earlier works written in a similar meter.
The following examples serve to show that the same extended types of line which were found to be the commonest in Layamon’s Brut (cp. p. 77) recur as the most usual types also in this poem:
The following examples show that the same long types of lines that were most common in Layamon’s Brut (see p. 77) also appear as the most typical types in this poem:
A + C: Álle bèon he blíþe | þat tò my sóng lýþe! 1–2.
A + C: All be happy | that to my song lead! 1–2.
A + A: A sáng ihc schàl ȝou sínge | of Múrrȳ̀ þè kínge. 2–3.
A + A: A sáng ihc schàl ȝou sínge | of Múrrȳ̀ þè kínge. 2–3.
A + A: He fónd bì þe strónde, | aríued òn his lónde, 35–6.
A + A: He found by the shore, | arrived on his land, 35–6.
B + C: Àll þe dáy and àl þe nī́ȝt, | tìl hit spráng dái lìȝt. 123–4.
B + C: All the day and all the night, | until it sprang day light. 123–4.
B + B: Fàirer nis nón þàne he wás, | hè was bríȝt sò þe glás. 13–14.
B + B: He wasn't fairer than he was, | he was bright as glass. 13–14.
C + C: Bì þe sé síde, | ase hè was, wóned (⏑́×) ríde. 33–4.
C + C: By the side, | as he was, dwelled (⏑́×) ride. 33–4.
C + A: Of þìne méstére, | of wúde and òf rivére. 229–30.
C + A: About your master, | about the woods and the river. 229–30.
D + A: Schípes fíftène | with sárazìn[e]s kéne. 37–8.
D + A: Schípes fíftène | with sárazìn[e]s kéne. 37–8.
C + A: Þe chìld him ánswérde, | sóne so hè hit hérde. 199–200.
C + A: The child answered him, | as soon as he heard it. 199–200.
B + E: Hè was whít sò þe flúr, | róse-rèd was hìs colúr. 15–16.
B + E: He was white as the flower, | rose-red was his color. 15–16.
In most cases we see that identical or similar types of verse are connected here so as to form a couplet (printed by us as one long line). Even where this is not so, however, the two chief accents in each short line serve to make all the different forms and types of verse occurring in this poem sound homogeneous. This admits of a ready explanation, as the poem, in which no stanzaic arrangement can be detected, although styled a ‘song’ (line 2), was certainly never meant to be sung to a regular tune. On the contrary, it was undoubtedly recited like the ‘Song’ of Beowulf—probably not without a proper musical accompaniment—by the minstrels.
In most cases, we can see that identical or similar types of verse are connected here to form a couplet (which we print as one long line). Even when this isn’t the case, the two main accents in each short line make all the different forms and types of verse in this poem sound unified. This is easy to explain since the poem, which doesn’t have a clear stanza arrangement and is called a ‘song’ (line 2), was definitely not meant to be sung to a regular tune. Instead, it was likely recited similar to the ‘Song’ of Beowulf—probably with some kind of musical accompaniment—by the minstrels.
At all events the treatment of the words with regard to their rhythmic use in this poem does not deviate from that of Layamon.
At any rate, the way the words are used rhythmically in this poem doesn't differ from how Layamon used them.
§ 51. The two poems are of the same period, and in both the etymological and syntactical accentuation of natural speech forms the basis of the rhythmic accentuation. Monosyllabic words and the accented syllables of polysyllabic words having a strong syntactical accent are placed in the arsis; unaccented inflectional syllables as a rule form the theses of a verse; second parts of compounds and fully sounding derivative syllables are commonly used for theses with a somewhat stronger accent, and may, if placed in the arsis, even bear the alliteration, or, if they are less strongly accented, the rhyme:
§ 51. The two poems come from the same time period, and in both, the natural flow of speech—both in terms of word origins and sentence structure—shapes the rhythmic beats. Single-syllable words and the stressed syllables in multi-syllable words that carry a strong emphasis are positioned in the upbeat; typically, unstressed inflectional syllables form the downbeat of a line. The second parts of compound words and fully pronounced derivative syllables are often used for the downbeat with a slightly stronger emphasis and can, if placed in the upbeat, feature alliteration, or, if less strongly stressed, rhyme:
Unaccented inflexional syllables as a rule stand in the thesis of a verse. Only in exceptional cases, which admit of a different explanation (see above, pp. 74 and 76), they may bear the rhythmical accent if the rhyme demands it.
Unstressed inflectional syllables usually appear in the main part of a verse. Only in rare cases, where a different explanation applies (see above, pp. 74 and 76), can they take on the rhythmic accent if the rhyme requires it.
That a thesis in Layamon’s Brut and in Alfred’s Proverbs may be disyllabic or even trisyllabic both in the beginning and the middle of a line is evident from the many examples quoted above.
That a thesis in Layamon’s Brut and in Alfred’s Proverbs can be disyllabic or even trisyllabic at both the start and the middle of a line is clear from the numerous examples mentioned above.
In King Horn, where the division of the original long lines into two short ones has been carried out completely, and where the rhythm of the verse has consequently become more regular, the thesis, if not wanting entirely, as usually the case, in the types C, D, E, is generally monosyllabic. But, as the following examples, faírer ne mìȝte 8, þe paíns còme to lónde 58, þanne schólde withùten óþe 347, will show, disyllabic theses do also occur, both after the first and second arsis, and in the beginning of the line.
In King Horn, where the long original lines have been fully divided into two shorter ones, the rhythm of the verse has become more consistent. The thesis, though often not entirely present, as is usually the case in types C, D, E, is generally monosyllabic. However, as the following examples show—faírer ne mìȝte 8, þe paíns còme to lónde 58, þanne schólde withùten óþe 347—disyllabic theses also appear, both after the first and second arsis, and at the start of the line.
CHAPTER IV
THE ALLITERATIVE LINE IN ITS CONSERVATIVE
FORM DURING THE 14TH AND 15TH CENTURIES
A. The alliterative verse without rhyme.
§ 52. The progressive or free form of the alliterative line came to an end as early as the middle of the thirteenth century, when it broke up into short rhyming couplets. The stricter form was for nearly three centuries longer a very popular metre in English poetry, especially in the North-Western and Northern districts of England and in the adjacent lowlands of Scotland. The first traces, however, of its existence after the Norman Conquest are to be found in the South of England, where some poetical homilies and lives of saints were written at the end of the twelfth and in the beginning of the thirteenth century which are of the same character, both as to their subjects and to their metre, as the poetical paraphrases and homilies written by Ælfric. These poems are Hali Meidenhad (a poetical homily), the legends of St. Marharete, St. Juliana, and St. Katherine. These poems have been edited for the Early English Text Society, Nos. 18, 13, 51, 80; the first three by Cockayne as prose-texts, the last by Dr. Einenkel, who printed it in short couplets regarded by him as having the same four-beat rhythm (Otfrid’s metre) which he and his teacher, Prof. Trautmann, suppose to exist in Layamon and King Horn.[107] The Homilies have no rhymes.
§ 52. The progressive or free form of the alliterative line ended by the mid-thirteenth century, breaking into short rhyming couplets. The stricter form remained a popular meter in English poetry for nearly another three centuries, especially in the North-Western and Northern regions of England and in the nearby lowlands of Scotland. However, the first signs of its existence after the Norman Conquest can be found in the South of England, where some poetic homilies and lives of saints were written at the end of the twelfth and beginning of the thirteenth centuries. These works share similar subjects and meter with the poetic paraphrases and homilies written by Ælfric. These poems include Hali Meidenhad (a poetic homily), the legends of St. Marharete, St. Juliana, and St. Katherine. These poems have been edited for the Early English Text Society, Nos. 18, 13, 51, 80; the first three by Cockayne as prose texts, and the last by Dr. Einenkel, who published it in short couplets that he viewed as having the same four-beat rhythm (Otfrid’s meter) which he and his mentor, Prof. Trautmann, believe is present in Layamon and King Horn. [107] The Homilies have no rhymes.
The form of these homilies and legends occasionally exhibits real alliterative lines, but for the most part is nothing but rhythmical prose, altogether too irregular to call for an investigation here. Some remarks on passages written in a form more or less resembling alliterative verse may be found in our Englische Metrik, vol. i, § 94.
It is quite out of the question to suppose these Southern works, with their very irregular use of alliteration and metre, to have had any influence on the metrical form of the very numerous alliterative poems written in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries in the Midland and Northern districts of England. It is, however, not at all likely that alliterative poetry should have sprung up there without any medium of tradition, and that it should have returned to the strict forms of the Old English models. Nor can we assume that it was handed down by means of oral tradition only on the part of the minstrels from Old English times down to the fourteenth century. The channel of tradition of the genuine alliterative line must be sought for in documents which for the most part have been lost.
It’s completely unrealistic to think that these Southern works, with their very uneven use of alliteration and meter, influenced the countless alliterative poems created in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries in the Midland and Northern regions of England. However, it’s also unlikely that alliterative poetry would have emerged there without any form of tradition, and that it would have reverted to the strict structures of the Old English models. We can’t assume that it was solely passed down orally by the minstrels from Old English times to the fourteenth century. We need to look for the source of the genuine alliterative line in documents that, for the most part, have been lost.
A few small remnants, however, have been preserved, viz. a charm in a MS. of the twelfth century (cf. Zupitza, Zeitschrift für deutsches Altertum, xxxi. 49), a short poem, entitled ‘Ten Abuses’, belonging to the same period (E. E. T. S. 49, p. 184), a prophecy of five lines contained in the chronicle of Benedict of Peterborough (Rerum Britannicarum Scriptores, 49, ii. 139), finally a prophecy ascribed to Thomas of Erceldoune (E.E. T. S., vol. 61, xviii, Thom. of Erc., ed. by A. Brandl, p. 26). But these pieces, treated by Prof. Luick in Paul’s Grundriss, ed. 2, II. ii, p. 160, are either too short or are too uncertain in text to admit of our making definite conclusions from them.
A few small remnants have been preserved, namely a charm in a 12th-century manuscript (see Zupitza, Zeitschrift für deutsches Altertum, xxxi. 49), a short poem called ‘Ten Abuses’ from the same period (E. E. T. S. 49, p. 184), a five-line prophecy in the chronicle of Benedict of Peterborough (Rerum Britannicarum Scriptores, 49, ii. 139), and finally a prophecy attributed to Thomas of Erceldoune (E.E. T. S., vol. 61, xviii, Thom. of Erc., ed. by A. Brandl, p. 26). However, these pieces, analyzed by Prof. Luick in Paul’s Grundriss, ed. 2, II. ii, p. 160, are either too brief or too uncertain in text to allow us to draw definitive conclusions from them.
But from the middle of the fourteenth century onward we have a large number of poems composed in regular alliterative verse, e.g. King Alisaunder (Als.) and William of Palerne (W.), both in E. E. T. S., Extra-Ser. No. 1; Joseph of Arimathie (J.A.), E. E.T. S. 44; Sir Gawain and the Green Knight (Gr.), E.E. T. S. 4; Piers Plowman (P. P.), by W. Langland, E. E. T. S., Nos. 17, 28, 30, 38, 54; Pierce the Plowman’s Crede (P. P. Cr.), E. E. T. S. 30; Richard the Redeles (R. R.), E. E. T. S. 54; The Crowned King (Cr. K.), ibid.; The Destruction of Troy, E. E.T. S. 39, 56; Morte Arthure, E. E. T. S. 8; Cleanness and Patience, E. E. T. S. 1; The Chevalere Assigne, E. E.T. S., Extra-Ser. 6; and others of the end of the fifteenth and the beginning of the sixteenth centuries: see Prof. W. W. Skeat’s list in ‘Bishop Percy’s Folio MS.’, London, 1867 (ed. Furnivall and Hales), vol. iii, p. xi, and many recent publications of the Early English Text Society.
But starting from the middle of the fourteenth century, we have a significant number of poems written in regular alliterative verse, such as King Alisaunder (Als.) and William of Palerne (W.), both in E. E. T. S., Extra-Ser. No. 1; Joseph of Arimathie (J.A.), E. E.T. S. 44; Sir Gawain and the Green Knight (Gr.), E.E. T. S. 4; Piers Plowman (P. P.), by W. Langland, E. E. T. S., Nos. 17, 28, 30, 38, 54; Pierce the Plowman’s Crede (P. P. Cr.), E. E. T. S. 30; Richard the Redeles (R. R.), E. E. T. S. 54; The Crowned King (Cr. K.), ibid.; The Destruction of Troy, E. E.T. S. 39, 56; Morte Arthure, E. E. T. S. 8; Cleanness and Patience, E. E. T. S. 1; The Chevalere Assigne, E. E.T. S., Extra-Ser. 6; and others from the late fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries: see Prof. W. W. Skeat’s list in ‘Bishop Percy’s Folio MS.’, London, 1867 (ed. Furnivall and Hales), vol. iii, p. xi, and many recent publications of the Early English Text Society.
On the structure of this metre the opinions of scholars differ a good deal less than on that of the progressive or free form of the alliterative line. Yet there are a few adherents of the four-beat theory who apply it to the alliterative line of this epoch, amongst others Rosenthal (‘Die alliterierende englische Langzeile im 14. Jahrhundert,’ Anglia, i. 414 ff.). The two-beat theory, on the other hand, has been upheld also for this form of the alliterative line by Prof. W. W. Skeat, Essay on Alliterative Poetry, Percy Folio MS. 1867 (ed. Furnivall and Hales), by the present writer in Englische Metrik, i, pp. 195–212, and by Prof. Luick, Anglia, xi, pp. 392–443 and 553–618, and subsequently in Paul’s Grundriss, ed. 2, II. ii, pp. 161–3.
On the structure of this meter, scholars are much more aligned than they are on the progressive or free form of the alliterative line. However, there are a few supporters of the four-beat theory who apply it to the alliterative line of this period, including Rosenthal ('The alliterative English long line in the 14th century,' Anglia, i. 414 ff.). On the other hand, the two-beat theory has also been defended for this form of the alliterative line by Prof. W. W. Skeat, Essay on Alliterative Poetry, Percy Folio MS. 1867 (ed. Furnivall and Hales), by me in Englische Metrik, i, pp. 195–212, and by Prof. Luick, Anglia, xi, pp. 392–443 and 553–618, and later in Paul’s Grundriss, ed. 2, II. ii, pp. 161–3.
§ 53. The use and treatment of the words in the verse is on the whole the same as in the Old English period. The chief divergence is, that in this period of the language the difference between long and short syllables was lost, in consequence of the lengthening of short vowels in open syllables which had taken place in the interval, and that consequently the substitution of a short accented syllable and an unaccented one for a long accented syllable (the so-called resolution) was no longer admissible. Otherwise syllables with a primary accent, syllables with a secondary accent, and unaccented syllables are treated just as in the Old English poetry. Accented syllables are as a rule placed in the arsis, as are also second parts of compounds. Other syllables with secondary accent (derivative and inflectional syllables) are only in exceptional cases placed in the arsis of a verse.
§ 53. The use and treatment of the words in the verse is mostly the same as in the Old English period. The main difference is that during this time, the distinction between long and short syllables was lost due to the lengthening of short vowels in open syllables that occurred in the meantime. As a result, substituting a short accented syllable and an unaccented one for a long accented syllable (known as resolution) was no longer acceptable. Otherwise, syllables with a primary accent, syllables with a secondary accent, and unaccented syllables are handled just like in Old English poetry. Accented syllables are generally placed in the arsis, along with the second parts of compounds. Other syllables with secondary accents (derivative and inflectional syllables) are only placed in the arsis of a verse in rare cases.
It is of special interest, however, to notice that words of Romanic origin which in the course of time had been introduced into the language are in many cases accented according to Germanic usage. Words of which the last syllable was accented in French have in their Middle-English form the chief accent thrown on a preceding, frequently on the first, syllable, and in consequence of this the originally fully accented syllable in trisyllabic words receives the secondary accent and is treated in the rhythm of the verse in the same way as syllables with a secondary accent in English words. The laws, too, which in Old English affect the subordination and position of the parts of speech in their relationship to the rhythm of the verse and to the alliteration, remain, generally speaking, in force. It is remarkable that ‘if an attributive adjective is joined to a substantive, and a verb to a prepositional adverb, the first part of these groups of words still has the chief accent’ (Luick). The relationship, on the other hand, of verse and sentence is changed. While in Old English poetry run-on-lines were very popular and new sentences therefore frequently began in the middle of a line, after the caesura, we find that in Middle English, as a rule, the end of the sentence coincides with the end of the line. Hence every line forms a unity by itself, and the chief pause falls at the end, not, as was frequently the case in Old English times, after the caesura.
It’s interesting to note that words from Latin that have made their way into the language over time are often stressed according to Germanic patterns. Words that had the last syllable accented in French tend to have the main stress on a previous syllable in their Middle English forms, often the first syllable. As a result, the originally stressed syllable in three-syllable words receives a secondary accent and is handled rhythmically in the same way as syllables with a secondary accent in English words. The rules that influenced the subordination and positioning of parts of speech in Old English in relation to the rhythm of the verse and alliteration still generally apply. It's noteworthy that “if an attributive adjective is joined to a noun, and a verb to a prepositional adverb, the first part of these groups of words still carries the main stress” (Luick). The relationship between verse and sentence, however, has shifted. While run-on lines were quite common in Old English poetry, leading to new sentences often starting in the middle of a line, after the caesura, in Middle English, sentences typically end at the end of a line. As a result, each line stands alone, and the main pause occurs at the end rather than, as was often the case in Old English, after the caesura.
§ 54. Alliteration. On the whole, the same laws regarding the position of the alliterative sounds are still in force as before; it is indeed remarkable that they are sometimes even more strictly observed. In the Destruction of Troy, e.g. triple alliteration according to the formula a a a x is employed throughout.
Alongside of this order of alliteration we find in most of the other poems the other schemes of alliteration popular in Old English times, e.g. a x a x, x a a x, a b a b, a b b a:
Alongside this type of alliteration, we also see the other alliteration patterns that were common in Old English poetry, such as a x a x, x a a x, a b a b, a b b a:
Irregularities, however, in the position of the alliteration are frequently met with, e.g. parallel alliteration: a a, b b:
Irregularities, however, in the placement of the alliteration are often encountered, e.g. parallel alliteration: a a, b b:
or the chief alliterative sound (the ‘head-stave’) may be placed in the last accented syllable (a a x a):
or the main alliterative sound (the ‘head-stave’) can be put in the last stressed syllable (a a x a):
or it may be wanting entirely, especially in William of Palerne:
or it might be completely missing, especially in William of Palerne:
and there are even found a certain number of verses without any alliteration at all in Joseph of Arimathie:
and there are even a number of verses without any alliteration at all in Joseph of Arimathie:
In such cases it may sometimes be noticed that a line which has no internal alliteration is linked by alliteration with a preceding or with a following line, in the same way as was to be observed already in the last century of the Old English period (cf. p. 50):
In these instances, it may be observed that a line without internal alliteration is connected by alliteration to a previous or subsequent line, similar to what was noted in the last century of the Old English period (cf. p. 50):
Again an excess of alliteration is found, which happens in different ways, either by admitting four alliterative sounds in one line (a a a a) as was sometimes done even in Old English:
Again, there's too much alliteration, which occurs in various ways, either by including four alliterative sounds in one line (a a a a) as was sometimes done even in Old English:
or by retaining the same alliterative sound in several consecutive lines, e.g. :
or by keeping the same alliterative sound in several lines in a row, e.g.:
or, finally, by allowing the somewhat more strongly accented syllables of the theses to participate in the alliteration:
or, finally, by letting the more strongly accented syllables of the theses join in the alliteration:
By the increasing use of this kind of alliteration it ultimately degenerated so much that the real nature of it was completely forgotten. This is evident from the general advice which King James VI gives in his Revlis and Cavtelis to be observit and eschewit in Scottis Poesie (Arber’s Reprint, p. 63):
By the increasing use of this type of alliteration, it ultimately became so overused that its true nature was completely forgotten. This is clear from the general advice that King James VI provides in his Revlis and Cavtelis to be observit and eschewit in Scottis Poesie (Arber’s Reprint, p. 63):
Let all your verse be Literall, sa far as may be, quhatsumeuer kynde they be of, but speciallie Tumbling verse [evidently the alliterative line] for flyting. Be Literall I meane, that the maist pairt of your lyne sall rynne vpon a letter, as this tumbling lyne rynnis vpon F.
Let all your poetry be Literal, as much as possible, whatever kind it may be, but especially Tumbling verse [clearly the alliterative line] for banter. By Literal, I mean that most of your line should rhyme on a letter, like this tumbling line rhymes on F.
Fetching fade for to feid it fast furth of the Farie.[108]
Fetching a way to get it out of the Fairy.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
He then gives a description of this kind of verse which makes it evident that he looked upon ‘tumbling verse’ as a rhythm of two beats in each hemistich or four beats in the full line, for he says:
He then describes this type of verse, making it clear that he views 'tumbling verse' as a rhythm of two beats in each half-line or four beats in the full line, because he says:
Ȝe man observe that thir Tumbling verse flowis not on that fassoun as vtheris dois. For all vtheris keipis the reule quhilk I gave before, to wit the first fute short the secound lang and sa furth. Quhair as thir hes twa short and are lang throuch all the lyne quhen they keip ordour, albeit the maist pairt of thame be out of ordour and keipis na kynde nor reule of Flowing and for that cause are callit Tumbling verse.
You may notice that these Tumbling verses don't flow like others do. Because all other verses follow the rule I laid out earlier, which is: the first foot is short, the second is long, and so on. However, these have two short feet and are long throughout the line when they maintain order, even though most of them are out of order and don't follow any kind of structure or rule of flow, and for that reason, they are called Tumbling verses.
King James VI was a contemporary of the last poets who wrote in alliterative lines in the North and therefore undoubtedly had heard such poems read by reciters who had kept up the true tradition of their scansion. We have here then the very best proof we can desire not only of the four-beat rhythm of the line, but also of the fact that unaccented words, although they may alliterate intentionally, as they do often in poems of the fifteenth century, or unintentionally, as earlier, do not get a full accent in consequence of the alliteration, as some scholars have thought, but remain unaccented.[109] As to the quality of the alliteration the same laws on the whole still prevail as in Old English poetry, but are less strictly observed. Thus frequently voiced and unvoiced sounds alliterate together, and the aspiration is neglected; f alliterates with v, v with w, w with wh, s with sh or with combinations of s and other consonants, g with k, h with ch:
King James VI was a contemporary of the last poets who wrote in alliterative lines in the North, so he definitely heard these poems performed by reciters who maintained the true tradition of their rhythm. This gives us the best proof we could want of not just the four-beat rhythm of the line, but also of the fact that unaccented words, whether they alliterate intentionally, as seen in many poems from the fifteenth century, or unintentionally, as in earlier works, do not receive a full accent due to the alliteration, contrary to what some scholars have believed; they stay unaccented.[109] Regarding the quality of alliteration, the same general rules still apply as in Old English poetry, but they are not as strictly followed. Thus, voiced and unvoiced sounds often alliterate together, and aspiration is overlooked; f alliterates with v, v with w, w with wh, s with sh or with combinations of s and other consonants, g with k, h with ch:
On the other hand, sometimes (as e.g. in the Alisaunder fragments) greater strictness may be noticed in regard to alliteration of vowels, as only the same vowels[110] are allowed to alliterate:
On the other hand, sometimes (like in the Alisaunder fragments) a greater strictness can be observed regarding the alliteration of vowels, as only the same vowels[110] are permitted to alliterate:
Later on, in the fifteenth century, vocalic alliteration in general falls into disuse more and more.
Later on, in the fifteenth century, vocalic alliteration gradually falls out of use.
§ 55. Comparison of Middle English and Old English alliterative verse. With regard to the rhythmic structure of the verse the Middle English alliterative line is not very different from the corresponding Old English metre. Two beats in each hemistich are, of course, the rule, and it has been shown by Dr. K. Luick, in a very valuable paper on the English alliterative line in the fourteenth, fifteenth, and sixteenth centuries,[111] that all the different types which Prof. Sievers has discovered for the two sections of the Old English alliterative line occur here again, but with certain modifications.
§ 55. Comparison of Middle English and Old English alliterative verse. When it comes to the rhythmic structure of the verse, the Middle English alliterative line isn't very different from the similar Old English meter. Two beats in each half-line are, of course, the standard, and Dr. K. Luick has demonstrated in a very valuable essay on the English alliterative line in the fourteenth, fifteenth, and sixteenth centuries,[111] that all the different types identified by Prof. Sievers for the two sections of the Old English alliterative line appear here again, but with some modifications.
The modifications which the five chief types have undergone originated in the tendency to simplify their many varieties exactly in the same way as the Old English inflexional forms of the language were simplified and generalized in the Middle English period.
The changes that the five main types have gone through came from the desire to simplify their many variations, just like the Old English inflectional forms of the language were simplified and standardized during the Middle English period.
Only three of the five old types, viz. those with an even number of members (A, B, C), are preserved in the second section of the verse, and those not in their original forms. They show further a certain tendency to assimilate to each other.
Only three of the five original types, specifically those with an even number of members (A, B, C), are included in the second section of the verse, and they are not in their original forms. Additionally, they demonstrate a tendency to blend into one another.
In types B and C the variations with disyllabic anacrusis occurred most frequently, as was also the case in type A, and verses of this kind now become predominant. Furthermore, in the Old English alliterative line, endings consisting of an accented and an unaccented syllable (feminine endings) prevailed; and type B was the only one of the symmetrical types ending with an accented syllable. In Middle English the use of feminine endings goes so far that the original type B has disappeared altogether and given place to a new type with an unaccented last syllable corresponding to the form ××–́×–́×.
In types B and C, variations with two-syllable anacrusis happened most often, just like in type A, and this kind of verse is now dominant. Additionally, in the Old English alliterative line, endings made up of an accented and an unaccented syllable (feminine endings) were common; and type B was the only symmetrical type that ended with an accented syllable. By Middle English, the use of feminine endings was so prevalent that the original type B completely vanished and was replaced by a new type with an unaccented last syllable that corresponds to the form ××–́×–́×.
Prof. Luick very properly calls this type BC, holding that it originated from the variations ××–́×⏑́͜× and ××⏑́͜×–́× of the old types B and C in consequence of the lengthening of the originally short accented syllable. Verse-ends with two unaccented syllables, which might have arisen in the same way from –́× = ⏑́͜××, did not become popular; and verse-ends with one unaccented syllable predominated. Lastly, an important feature of the later verse-technique deserves notice, that a monosyllabic anacrusis (an initial unaccented syllable) is generally allowed in types where it was not permitted in the Old English alliterative line. The consequence of these changes is that the rhythm of the verse which was in Old English a descending rhythm, becomes in Middle English ascending, and is brought into line with the rhythm of the contemporary even-beat metres.
Prof. Luick correctly refers to this type as BC, suggesting that it came from the variations ××–́×⏑́͜× and ××⏑́͜×–́× of the earlier types B and C due to the lengthening of the originally short accented syllable. Verse endings with two unaccented syllables, which might have resulted similarly from –́× = ⏑́͜××, did not gain popularity; instead, those with one unaccented syllable became dominant. Additionally, an important aspect of the later verse technique is that a monosyllabic anacrusis (an initial unaccented syllable) is generally accepted in types where it was not allowed in the Old English alliterative line. These changes mean that the rhythm of the verse, which was a descending rhythm in Old English, transforms into an ascending rhythm in Middle English, aligning it with the rhythm of contemporary even-beat meters.
This is the state of development presented by the Middle English alliterative line in one of the earliest poems of this group, viz. in the fragments of King Alisaunder, the versification of which, as a rule, is very correct.
This shows the level of development in the Middle English alliterative line in one of the earliest poems in this group, namely the fragments of King Alisaunder, whose versification is generally very accurate.
Here the three types only which we have mentioned occur in the second hemistich.
Here, only the three types we mentioned appear in the second half-line.
Type A is most common, corresponding to the formula (×)–́××–́×:
Type A is the most common, matching the formula (×)–́××–́×:
lórdes and óoþer 1, déedes of ármes 5, kíd in his tíme 11, térme of his lífe 16,
lords and others 1, deeds of arms 5, kid in his time 11, term of his life 16,
or with anacrusis:
or with a pickup:
or stérne was hólden 10, and sóne beráfter 25.
or stérne was hólden 10, and sóne beráfter 25.
More than two unaccented syllables may occur after the first accented syllable. These two peculiarities seldom occur together in one and the same second hemistich (though frequently in the first hemistich); but there are some examples:
More than two unaccented syllables can come after the first accented syllable. These two features rarely appear together in the same second hemistich (although they often do in the first hemistich); however, there are a few examples:
is túrned too him álse 165, and príkeden abóute 382, hee fáred òn in háste 79;
is turned to him also 165, and priced about 382, he fared on in haste 79;
in this last example with a secondary accent on the word òn as also in the verse: þe méssengères þei cámme 1126.
in this last example with a secondary accent on the word òn as also in the verse: the messengers they came 1126.
Type C, (×)××–́–́×:
Type C, (×)××–́–́×:
was þe mán hóten 13, þat his kíth ásketh 65, as a kíng shólde 17, withoute míscháunce 1179.
was the man called 13, that his kin asks 65, as a king should 17, without misfortune 1179.
Type BC, (×)××–́×–́×:
Type BC, (×)××–́×–́×:
or it týme wére 30, in his fáders life 46, of þis méry tále 45, þat þei no cómme þáre 507.
or it time was 30, in his father's life 46, of this merry tale 45, that they do not come there 507.
The same types occur in the first hemistich; but type C disappears almost entirely, and in the other two the last syllable not unfrequently is accented, especially if a considerable number of unaccented syllables occur in the middle of the hemistich; such verses may be looked upon as remnants of types B and E:
The same types show up in the first half-line; however, type C almost completely disappears, while in the other two types, the last syllable is often stressed, especially if there are many unstressed syllables in the middle of the half-line. These verses can be seen as leftovers from types B and E:
þo was cróuned kíng 28, hee made a uéry uów 281, and wédded þat wíght 225, þe bérn couth þerbý 632, &c.
Then he was crowned king 28, he made a uery uow 281, and wedded that wight 225, the bern could thereby 632, &c.
Type D also seems to occur sometimes:
Type D also seems to appear sometimes:
móuth méete þertò 184, what déath drý[e] thou shàlt 1067.
mouth meet you there 184, what death dry you shall 1067.
Besides these types the first hemistich has, as in Old English times, some forms of its own. The succession of syllables –́××–́× (type A) is extended either by several unaccented syllables before the first accented one (polysyllabic anacrusis) or by the insertion of a secondary accent between the two main accented syllables, or after the second accented syllable, with a considerable number of medial unaccented syllables.
Besides these types, the first hemistich has, like in Old English times, some unique forms. The sequence of syllables –́××–́× (type A) is expanded either by a few unaccented syllables before the first accented one (polysyllabic anacrusis) or by adding a secondary accent between the two main accented syllables, or after the second accented syllable, along with several medial unaccented syllables.
The examples under (a) show the tendency noticeable already in the first hemistich of the Old English alliterative line to admit anacrusis. The examples under (b) and (c) may be looked upon as extended forms of types E and D.
The examples under (a) demonstrate the trend already evident in the first half of the Old English alliterative line to allow for anacrusis. The examples under (b) and (c) can be seen as extended versions of types E and D.
The end of the hemistich sometimes consists of an accented syllable instead of an unaccented one; the thesis is sometimes monosyllabic instead of polysyllabic, especially in A, or the anacrusis may be polysyllabic instead of monosyllabic. Secondary accents are introduced more frequently into the second hemistich also, but by poets whose technique is careful they are admitted only between the two accented syllables. Owing to these licences, and to the introduction of polysyllabic theses, the rhythm of the verse sometimes becomes very heavy.
The end of the hemistich can sometimes end with an accented syllable rather than an unaccented one; the thesis is sometimes a single syllable instead of multiple syllables, especially in A, or the anacrusis might be made up of multiple syllables instead of just one. Secondary accents are also used more often in the second hemistich, but careful poets only include them between the two accented syllables. Because of these liberties and the use of polysyllabic theses, the rhythm of the verse can sometimes feel quite heavy.
Belonging to this group are William of Palerne, Joseph of Arimathie, both belonging to the middle of the fourteenth century, the three editions of William Langland’s Vision concerning Piers Plowman, of somewhat later date, and a few minor poems. The Romance of the Chevelere Assigne, written in the East Midland district, at the end of the fourteenth century, and the works of the Gawain-poet, viz. Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, Cleanness, Patience, and the Legend of St. Erkenwald (Horstmann, Altengl. Legenden, 1881, p. 265), form the transition to another group of poems belonging to the North of England, but differing somewhat from the preceding with regard to their metre.
Belonging to this group are William of Palerne, Joseph of Arimathie, both from the middle of the fourteenth century, the three editions of William Langland’s Vision concerning Piers Plowman, which are from a slightly later date, and a few minor poems. The Romance of the Chevelere Assigne, written in the East Midland region at the end of the fourteenth century, and the works of the Gawain-poet, namely Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, Cleanness, Patience, and the Legend of St. Erkenwald (Horstmann, Altengl. Legenden, 1881, p. 265), mark the transition to another group of poems from the North of England, although they slightly differ from the previous ones in terms of their meter.
The most important amongst these is Langland’s great work, but it is at the same time most unequal in respect to its versification. In many passages, especially in the beginning of the several Passus, as they are called, the flow of the verses is very regular; in other passages the theses are frequently of such great length, and the arsis stands out so indistinctly, that the rhythm of the verse can only be made out with difficulty. Some examples taken from the B-text (c. 1377) may serve to illustrate this:
The most important among these is Langland’s great work, but it's also quite uneven in terms of its verse. In many places, especially at the start of the different Passus, as they're called, the flow of the verses is very smooth; in other sections, the lines often drag on for so long, and the stressed parts are so unclear, that figuring out the rhythm can be really tough. Here are some examples from the B-text (c. 1377) that show this:
Extended second hemistich (Type A):
Extended second hemistich (Type A):
Extended first hemistich (Type A):
Extended first hemistich (Type A):
Such verses obviously contain only two beats in each hemistich, although at the same time some of the syllables forming the thesis may have a somewhat stronger accent than others. For as a rule such extended verses are succeeded by a normal line, clearly bringing out again the general four-beat rhythm, as is the case with the line (A + A) following immediately upon the last-mentioned example:
Such lines clearly have only two beats in each half, although some of the syllables in the main part may have a slightly stronger emphasis than others. Typically, these longer lines are followed by a normal line, which highlights the usual four-beat rhythm again, as seen with the line (A + A) that follows directly after the last example:
Type A is in Piers Plowman the usual one, but the types C and BC frequently occur. In the following examples we have type C in the second hemistich:
Type A is in Piers Plowman the usual one, but types C and BC come up often. In the following examples, we see type C in the second half-line:
in the first hemistich it occurs rarely:
in the first half, it happens rarely:
Type B C is frequently to be met with in both hemistichs; e.g. in the first:
Type B C is often found in both halves of the line; for example, in the first:
in the second:
in the 2nd:
Masculine endings, however (originating from the dropping of the final -e in the last words of the types A and C, as e.g. in and drédful of síght Prol. 16, cristened þe kýnge xv. 437, as þe kýng híght iii. 9), occur very rarely here. They are, on the other hand, characteristic forms in another group of alliterative poems.
Masculine endings, on the other hand (coming from dropping the final -e in the last words of types A and C, like in and dreadful of sight Prol. 16, christened the king xv. 437, as the king is called iii. 9), are very rare here. However, they are typical forms in another set of alliterative poems.
In these districts the final e had by this time become silent, or was in the course of becoming so. Thus many verses of West-Midland poems were shortened in the North by omitting the final -e, and then these forms were imitated there. Hence the middle of the line was much less modified than the end of it.
In these areas, the final e had by this time become silent, or was in the process of becoming so. As a result, many verses of West-Midland poems were shortened in the North by dropping the final -e, and those forms were then copied there. Therefore, the middle of the line was much less changed than the end of it.
Types A, C, B C, therefore, occur not only in the ordinary forms with unaccented syllables at the end, but also, although more rarely, with accented ones, viz. corresponding to the schemes:
Types A, C, B C, therefore, happen not just in the usual forms with unaccented syllables at the end, but also, although less frequently, with accented ones, namely corresponding to the schemes:
A1, (×)–́××–́, C1, (×)××–́–́, BC1, (×)××–́×–́.
A1, (×)–́××–́, C1, (×)××–́–́, BC1, (×)××–́×–́.
These forms of the hemistich first occur in the Destruction of Troy, a poem written in a West-Midland dialect very like to the Northern dialect, and in the North-English poems, Morte Arthure and The Wars of Alexander (E. E. T. S., Extra-Ser. 47). Examples of these types (taken from the first-mentioned poem) are: of type A1 in the second hemistich, for lérning of ús 32, þat ónest were áy 48; with a polysyllabic thesis, and lympit of the sóthe 36; with a secondary accent,with cléne mèn of wít 790; without anacrusis,[112] lémond as góld 459, bléssid were Í 473; in the first hemistich, with disyllabic anacrusis, þat ben drépit with déth 9, þat with the Grékys was grét 40; without anacrusis, Býg y-noghe vnto béd 397, Trýed men þat were táken 258, &c.; examples for C1 (only occurring in the second hemistich), þat he fóre with 44, into your lond hóme 611, ye have sáid well 1122, þat ho bórne wás 1388, of my córs hás 1865; examples for B C1, in the second hemistich (of rare occurrence), when it destróyet wás 28, and to sórow bróght 1497, þere þe cítie wás 1534.
These forms of the hemistich first appear in the Destruction of Troy, a poem written in a West-Midland dialect that is very similar to the Northern dialect, and in the North-English poems, Morte Arthure and The Wars of Alexander (E. E. T. S., Extra-Ser. 47). Examples of these types (taken from the first-mentioned poem) are: of type A1 in the second hemistich, for lérning of ús 32, þat ónest were áy 48; with a polysyllabic thesis, and lympit of the sóthe 36; with a secondary accent,with cléne mèn of wít 790; without anacrusis, [112] lémond as góld 459, bléssid were Í 473; in the first hemistich, with disyllabic anacrusis, þat ben drépit with déth 9, þat with the Grékys was grét 40; without anacrusis, Býg y-noghe vnto béd 397, Trýed men þat were táken 258, &c.; examples for C1 (only occurring in the second hemistich), þat he fóre with 44, into your lond hóme 611, ye have sáid well 1122, þat ho bórne wás 1388, of my córs hás 1865; examples for B C1, in the second hemistich (of rare occurrence), when it destróyet wás 28, and to sórow bróght 1497, þere þe cítie wás 1534.
The same modification of types took place later in other parts of the Midlands, as appears from two works of the early sixteenth century, Scottish Field and Death and Life (Bishop Percy’s Folio MS., edited by Furnivall and Hales, i. 199 and iii. 49). The last North-English or rather Scottish poem, on the other hand, written in alliterative lines without rhyme, Dunbar’s well-known Satire, The twa mariit wemen and the wedo, has, apart from the normal types occurring in the North-English poems, many variants, chiefly in the first hemistich, which are characterized by lengthy unaccented parts both at the beginning of the line, before the second arsis, and after it; frequently too syllables forming the thesis have a secondary accent and even take part in the alliteration, as e.g. in the following examples:
The same changes in styles happened later in other parts of the Midlands, as seen in two works from the early sixteenth century, Scottish Field and Death and Life (Bishop Percy’s Folio MS., edited by Furnivall and Hales, i. 199 and iii. 49). The last North-English, or rather Scottish, poem, on the other hand, written in alliterative lines without rhyme, Dunbar’s well-known Satire, The twa mariit wemen and the wedo, includes, besides the usual styles found in North-English poems, many variations, mainly in the first hemistich, which are marked by long unaccented parts both at the beginning of the line, before the second arsis, and after it; often, too, syllables forming the thesis have a secondary accent and even participate in the alliteration, as shown in the following examples:
Sometimes the second hemistich participates in this cumulation of alliterating words, which not unfrequently extends over several, even as many as six or seven consecutive lines:
Sometimes the second half-line joins in this buildup of alliterating words, which often stretches over several lines, even as many as six or seven in a row:
This explains how King James VI came to formulate the metrical rule mentioned above (p. 89) from the misuse of alliteration by the last poets who used the alliterative line, or the alliterative rhyming line to be discussed in the next paragraph, which shares the same peculiarity.
This explains how King James VI developed the metrical rule mentioned above (p. 89) due to the misuse of alliteration by the last poets who used the alliterative line, or the alliterative rhyming line to be discussed in the next paragraph, which shares the same characteristic.
B. The alliterative line combined with rhyme
§ 58. In spite of the great popularity which the regular alliterative line enjoyed down to the beginning of the Modern English period, numerous and important rivals had arisen in the meantime, viz. the many even-beat rhymed kinds of verse formed on foreign models; and these soon began to influence the alliterative line. The first mark of this influence was that end-rhyme and strophic formation was forced upon many alliterative poems. In a further stage the alliterative line was compelled to accommodate its free rhythm of four accents bit by bit to that of the even-beat metres, especially to the closely-related four-foot iambic line, and thus to transform itself into a more or less regular iambic-anapaestic metre. The alliterative line, on the other hand, exercised a counter influence on the newer forms of verse, inasmuch as alliteration, which was formerly peculiar to native versification, took possession in course of time to a considerable extent of the even-beat metres, especially of the four-foot iambic verse. But by this reciprocal influence of the two forms of verse the blending of the four-beat alliterative line with that of four equal measures and the ultimate predominance of the even-beat metres was brought about more easily and naturally.
§ 58. Despite the popularity of the regular alliterative line up until the start of the Modern English period, many significant competitors had emerged in the meantime, namely the various even-beat rhymed types of verse based on foreign models; these soon began to impact the alliterative line. The first sign of this influence was the introduction of end-rhyme and structured formations in numerous alliterative poems. In the next phase, the alliterative line was gradually forced to adapt its free rhythm of four accents to align with the even-beat meters, particularly the closely related four-foot iambic line, resulting in a transformation into a more or less regular iambic-anapaestic meter. Conversely, the alliterative line influenced the newer verse forms by allowing alliteration, which was once unique to native versification, to gradually integrate into the even-beat meters, especially the four-foot iambic verse. However, through this mutual influence of both verse forms, the blending of the four-beat alliterative line with that of four equal measures and the eventual dominance of the even-beat meters occurred more easily and naturally.
Alliterative-rhymed lines, the connexion of which into stanzas or staves will be treated of in the second part of this work under the heading of the ‘Bob-wheel-stanza’, were used during the Middle English period alike in lyric, epic, and dramatic poetry.
Alliterative-rhymed lines, the connection of which into stanzas or staves will be discussed in the second part of this work under the heading of the ‘Bob-wheel-stanza’, were used during the Middle English period in lyric, epic, and dramatic poetry.
We must distinguish between isometric and anisometric stanza forms. In the former the whole stanza consists of four-beat alliterative lines, commonly rhyming according to a very simple scheme (either a a a a or a b a b). In the latter four-beat long lines as a rule are combined with isolated lines of one measure only and with several of two measures to form the stanza. The two-beat verses frequently have a somewhat lengthened structure (to be discussed further on sections on the epic stanzas), in consequence of which many of them having theses with secondary accents can be read either as even-beat verses of three measures or as three-beat verses on the model of those in King Horn. The four-beat alliterative lines, on the other hand, are mostly of more regular structure, the distances between the first and second arsis not being so unequal and the theses as a rule being disyllabic. The anacrusis too in these verses admits of a somewhat free treatment. The difference, however, between the first and second hemistich is less conspicuous than it was in those forms of the Middle English alliterative line before mentioned. Alliteration, on the other hand, is abundantly used.
We need to differentiate between isometric and anisometric stanza forms. In isometric stanzas, every line is a four-beat alliterative line, typically rhyming in a very simple pattern (either a a a a or a b a b). In anisometric stanzas, four-beat long lines are usually mixed with isolated lines that have only one measure and several lines of two measures to make up the stanza. The two-beat verses often have a somewhat extended structure (which will be discussed further in the sections on epic stanzas), leading many of them to have theses with secondary accents that can be read either as even-beat verses of three measures or as three-beat verses like those in King Horn. The four-beat alliterative lines, on the other hand, tend to have a more regular structure, with the distances between the first and second arsis not being so unequal and the theses usually being disyllabic. The anacrusis in these verses also allows for some freedom. However, the difference between the first and second hemistich is less noticeable than it was in the previously mentioned forms of the Middle English alliterative line. Alliteration, however, is used extensively.
The main rhythmic character of the verse is again indicated here by the frequent occurrence of the types A and A1. The types B C, B C1, C, C1, however, likewise occur pretty often, and the two last types present serious obstacles to the assumption that the lines of these poems were ever recited with an even beat. But how exactly these poems were recited or to what sort of musical accompaniment can hardly be definitely decided in the absence of external evidence.
The main rhythmic feature of the verse is again shown by the frequent appearance of the types A and A1. The types B C, B C1, C, C1, also occur quite often, and the last two types present significant challenges to the idea that these poems were recited with a steady rhythm. However, it's difficult to determine how exactly these poems were recited or what kind of musical accompaniment they had without any external evidence.
The first verses of a West-Midland poem of the end of the thirteenth century (Wright’s Political Songs, p. 149) may serve as a specimen:
The first lines of a West-Midland poem from the late thirteenth century (Wright’s Political Songs, p. 149) can be used as an example:
The second hemistichs in ll. 2 and 4 belong to type C. In other poems also, with lines of more regular rhythm (chiefly type A), this type may be met with now and then, e.g. in a poem published in Wright’s Specimens of Lyric Poetry, p. 25, especially in the second hemistich, e.g. haueþ þis mái mére, line 9, and þe gýlófre, line 40, þat þe bór béde, line 44.
The second half-lines in lines 2 and 4 belong to type C. In other poems too, with lines of more regular rhythm (mainly type A), this type can occasionally be found, for example, in a poem published in Wright’s Specimens of Lyric Poetry, p. 25, especially in the second half-line, for instance, haueþ þis mái mére, line 9, and þe gýlófre, line 40, þat þe bór béde, line 44.
It is not difficult to distinguish such rhymed four-beat alliterative lines from those of four measures which have fairly regular alliteration, for the long line of the native metre always has a somewhat looser fabric, not the even-beat rhythmic cadence peculiar to the iambic verse of four measures, and, secondly, it always has a caesura after the first hemistich, whereas the even-beat verse of four measures may either lack distinct caesura or the caesura may occur in other places in the verse as well as after the second arsis. This will be evident by comparing the following four-beat verses of the last stanza of a poem in Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 31:
It’s easy to tell apart these rhymed four-beat alliterative lines from those of four measures that have fairly regular alliteration. The long line of the native meter has a somewhat looser structure, unlike the even rhythm of the iambic verse with four measures. Additionally, it always features a pause after the first hemistich, while the even-beat verse may either not have a clear pause or it may appear in other spots in the verse, including after the second arsis. This will be clear when you compare the following four-beat verses from the last stanza of a poem in Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 31:
with the following first four-beat alliterative lines of another poem (ibid. p. 25):
with the following first four-beat alliterative lines of another poem (ibid. p. 25):
In similar lines are written several other poems, as Mon in þe mone (ibid. p. 110); Of ribaudz y ryme (Wright’s Pol. Songs, p. 237); and five songs by Laurence Minot (nos. ii, v, ix, x, xi), written in the middle of the fourteenth century.
In a similar style, several other poems are written, like Mon in þe mone (ibid. p. 110); Of ribaudz y ryme (Wright’s Pol. Songs, p. 237); and five songs by Laurence Minot (nos. ii, v, ix, x, xi), created in the middle of the fourteenth century.
§ 60. In other poems the four-beat long lines used in the main part of the stanza are followed by shorter lines forming the cauda, which in part are of a variable rhythmic cadence either of three beats (or three measures) or of two beats, as e.g. in the well-known poem in Percy’s Reliques, ii, p. 1.[113] The first stanza may be quoted here:
§ 60. In other poems, the four-beat long lines used in the main part of the stanza are followed by shorter lines that create the cauda, which can have a variable rhythmic cadence of either three beats (or three measures) or two beats, as seen in the famous poem in Percy’s Reliques, ii, p. 1.[113] The first stanza may be quoted here:
In the following stanzas of this poem the four-beat rhythm, although rarely marked by regular alliteration, is (in the main part or ‘frons’) still more distinctly recognizable, in spite of several rhythmically incorrect lines.
In the following stanzas of this poem, the four-beat rhythm, while not often highlighted by consistent alliteration, is still more clearly identifiable in the main section or ‘frons,’ despite a few rhythmically incorrect lines.
Second hemistichs of the type C1 are not infrequent, e.g. opon swývýng 9, sire Édwárd 46, o þy lýárd 47. Lines 5 and 7 are of a two-beat rhythm, l. 8 probably as well (cf. our scansion).
Second hemistichs of the type C1 are fairly common, for example, opon swývýng 9, sire Édwárd 46, o þy lýárd 47. Lines 5 and 7 have a two-beat rhythm, and line 8 likely does too (see our scansion).
There is a decided similarity in regard to structure and versification between this stanza and that of a poem in Wright’s Pol. Songs, p. 153, although the long lines are divided in the middle by interlaced rhyme. This may be illustrated by its second stanza:
There is a clear similarity in terms of structure and verse style between this stanza and one from a poem in Wright’s Pol. Songs, p. 153, even though the long lines are split in the middle by interwoven rhyme. This can be shown by its second stanza:
There is no line here corresponding to l. 5 of the preceding poem. Otherwise, however, the cauda of this poem is of a similar structure to that of the preceding one, at least in this and possibly in the following stanzas, whereas the last line of the first stanza has a two-beat rhythm, and in the others the last lines probably are to be scanned with three beats. The second line of the cauda of the first stanza of this poem belongs to type C. Another poem (Wright’s Polit. Songs, p. 155; Böddeker, P.L. no. iv) shows a very artificial form of stanza, either corresponding to the formula a a4 b2 c c4 b2 d d4 b2 e e4 b2 f f g g g f2 (if we look upon the verses as four-beat and two-beat lines, which the poet probably intended), or corresponding to the formula a a4 b3 c c4 b3 d d4 b3 e e4 b3 f f g g g f2 (if we look upon the frons as consisting of ordinary tail-rhyme-stanza lines of four and three even-beat measures).
There isn't a line here that matches line 5 of the previous poem. Otherwise, the cauda of this poem has a similar structure to the one before it, at least in this and possibly in the following stanzas. The last line of the first stanza has a two-beat rhythm, while the last lines of the others are likely to have three beats. The second line of the cauda of the first stanza of this poem fits into type C. Another poem (Wright’s Polit. Songs, p. 155; Böddeker, P.L. no. iv) displays a very artificial stanza structure, which either corresponds to the pattern a a4 b2 c c4 b2 d d4 b2 e e4 b2 f f g g g f2 (if we consider the verses as four-beat and two-beat lines, which is probably what the poet intended), or fits the pattern a a4 b3 c c4 b3 d d4 b3 e e4 b3 f f g g g f2 (if we view the frons as consisting of regular tail-rhyme-stanza lines of four and three even-beat measures).
The four- and two-beat cadence of the verses comes out still more clearly in the stanzas of another poem (Wright’s Pol. Songs, p. 187; Ritson, Anc. Songs, i. 51; Böddeker, P.L. no. v), the rhymes of which follow the scheme a a a4 b2 c c c4 b2 (extended tail-rhyme-stanzas). Some of its long lines, it is true, admit of being read as even-beat verses of three measures, e.g. and béo huere chéuentéyn 20, and móni anóþer swéyn 24, but the true scansion in all probability is and béo huere chéuenteȳ̀n (or chèuentéyn): ant móni anòþer swéyn, in conformity with the scansion of the following lines to cóme to parís: þourh þe flóur de lís 52–6, or wiþ éorl and wiþ knýht: with húem forte fýht 124–8.
The four- and two-beat rhythm of the verses is even more pronounced in the stanzas of another poem (Wright’s Pol. Songs, p. 187; Ritson, Anc. Songs, i. 51; Böddeker, P.L. no. v), where the rhymes follow the pattern a a a4 b2 c c c4 b2 (extended tail-rhyme stanzas). Some long lines can indeed be read as even-beat verses of three measures, for example, and béo huere chéuentéyn 20, and móni anóþer swéyn 24, but the correct scansion is probably and béo huere chéuenteȳ̀n (or chèuentéyn): ant móni anòþer swéyn, consistent with the scansion of the following lines to cóme to parís: þourh þe flóur de lís 52–6, or wiþ éorl and wiþ knýht: with húem forte fýht 124–8.
As a first step to the epic forms of stanza to be considered in the next paragraph a poem of the early fourteenth century (Wright’s Pol. Songs, p. 212; Ritson, Anc. Songs, p. 28; Böddeker, P.L. no. vi) may be quoted:
As a first step to the epic forms of stanza we'll discuss in the next paragraph, a poem from the early 14th century (Wright’s Pol. Songs, p. 212; Ritson, Anc. Songs, p. 28; Böddeker, P.L. no. vi) can be quoted:
The fifth line has one arsis only (as appears more clearly from that in the second stanza: wiþ Lóue), thus corresponding to the above-mentioned poems (pp. 99, 100); the other lines of the cauda have two stresses.
The fifth line has one arsis only (as is clearer from the one in the second stanza: wiþ Lóue), thus relating to the poems mentioned earlier (pp. 99, 100); the other lines of the cauda have two stresses.
Prof. Luick[114] looks upon the long lines of this poem and of several others (e.g. Wright’s Pol. Songs, pp. 69 and 187) as doubled native verses of the progressive or Layamon form, but rhyming only as long lines. This can hardly be, as the rhythmic structure of these verses does not differ from that of the other poems quoted above, which belong, according to Prof. Luick himself, to the class of the normal, lyric rhyming-alliterative lines.
Prof. Luick[114] views the long lines of this poem and several others (e.g. Wright’s Pol. Songs, pp. 69 and 187) as doubled native verses of the progressive or Layamon form, but only rhyming as long lines. This is unlikely, as the rhythmic structure of these verses is the same as that of the other poems mentioned earlier, which, according to Prof. Luick himself, fall into the category of normal, lyric rhyming-alliterative lines.
§ 61. Narrative verse. Alliterative-rhyming verses occur in their purest form in narrative poetry, especially in a number of poems composed during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries in stanzas of thirteen lines, and republished recently in a collective edition by the Scottish Text Society in vol. 27 under the title Scottish Alliterative Poems (ed. by F.J. Amours, Edinburgh, 1892). The poems contained in this collection are Golagras and Gawane (also in Anglia, ii. 395), The Book of the Howlat by Holland, Rauf Coilȝear (also in E. E. T. S., Extr.-Ser. vol. xxxix), The Awntyrs off Arthure at the Terne Wathelyne, The Pistill of Susan (also in Anglia, i. 93). Douglas’s Prologue to the Eighth Book of his translation of the Aeneid (although written in the beginning of the sixteenth century) likewise belongs to this group, as do also the poems of John Audelay, composed in Shropshire in the fifteenth century (Percy Soc. xiv, p. 10 ff.), and a poem Of Sayne John the Euaungelist (E. E. T. S. 26, p. 87) written in stanzas of fourteen lines in the North of England. The stanzas of all these poems—generally speaking—consist of two unequal parts, the frons written in alliterative lines, rhyming according to the formula a b a b a b a b, and the cauda which contains five or six lines, the first of which may either be a long line as in the frons, or, as in The Pistill of Susan, a short one-beat one, with four two-beat sectional verses following. Only in the last-mentioned poem does the cauda consist of six two-beat sectional verses.
§ 61. Narrative verse. Alliterative-rhyming verses are found in their purest form in narrative poetry, especially in several poems written during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries that are structured in stanzas of thirteen lines. These were recently republished in a collective edition by the Scottish Text Society in vol. 27 under the title Scottish Alliterative Poems (edited by F.J. Amours, Edinburgh, 1892). The poems in this collection include Golagras and Gawane (also in Anglia, ii. 395), The Book of the Howlat by Holland, Rauf Coilȝear (also in E. E. T. S., Extr.-Ser. vol. xxxix), The Awntyrs off Arthure at the Terne Wathelyne, and The Pistill of Susan (also in Anglia, i. 93). Douglas's Prologue to the Eighth Book of his translation of the Aeneid (although written at the beginning of the sixteenth century) also belongs to this group, as well as the poems of John Audelay, composed in Shropshire in the fifteenth century (Percy Soc. xiv, p. 10 ff.), and a poem Of Sayne John the Euaungelist (E. E. T. S. 26, p. 87) written in stanzas of fourteen lines in the North of England. The stanzas of all these poems generally consist of two unequal parts: the frons, written in alliterative lines that rhyme according to the pattern a b a b a b a b, and the cauda, which contains five or six lines. The first line of the cauda may be a long line like in the frons, or, as in The Pistill of Susan, a short one-beat line, followed by four two-beat lines. Only in the last-mentioned poem does the cauda consist of six two-beat lines.
The rhythm of this alliterative-rhyming metre may first be illustrated by the opening lines of Golagras and Gawane:
The rhythm of this alliterative-rhyming meter can be shown by the opening lines of Golagras and Gawane:
I.
I.
II.
II.
Lines like the four last quoted illustrate the normal structure of the rhyming-alliterative verse, especially the relationship of rhyme and alliteration to each other in monosyllabic and disyllabic words. It will be seen that the rhyming syllable, as a rule the root-syllable, or at least the accented syllable of the word, at the same time carries the fourth accent of the line, and in consequence the fourth alliterative sound. In all other respects the rhymed-alliterative verse is structurally similar to that without rhyme, and it is therefore evident that rhyme exercises no decisive influence on the rhythm of the verse. In this comparatively pure form—if we do not take into account the secondary accents occurring in the first hemistichs of the stanza in the later poem—are written the great majority of the lines in the earliest of poems mentioned above, viz. The Awntyrs off Arthure.
Lines like the last four quoted show the typical structure of rhyming-alliterative verse, especially how rhyme and alliteration relate to each other in one-syllable and two-syllable words. You'll notice that the rhyming syllable, usually the root-syllable or at least the stressed syllable of the word, also carries the fourth accent of the line, and as a result, the fourth alliterative sound. In every other way, the rhymed-alliterative verse is structurally similar to the version without rhyme, so it's clear that rhyme doesn't significantly influence the rhythm of the verse. In this fairly pure form—if we ignore the secondary accents appearing in the first hemistichs of the stanza in the later poem—the vast majority of the lines in the earliest poems mentioned above, specifically The Awntyrs off Arthure, are written.
or the verses Gol. 648, 650, 654:
or the verses Gol. 648, 650, 654:
In the first couplet the last syllable of the word gráciùs, although bearing only a secondary accent and forming the last thesis of the verse, rhymes with the last syllable of the word chéuailrús, which likewise in ordinary speech has a secondary accent, but here is the bearer of the fourth metrical accent of the verse. In the second couplet the syllable lyng of the word wéderlỳng, which has a secondary accent and forms part of the thesis, rhymes with the word hyng which has the rhythmical accent. In the last group of verses the last syllable of the words paramour, honour having secondary accents rhymes with the word hour, the bearer of the last rhythmical accent. Similar rhymes occur even in Modern English poetry, e.g. in the works of Thomas Moore: Váin were its mélodỳ, Róse, without thée or Whát would the Róse bè Únsung by thée?[115]
In the first couplet, the last syllable of the word gráciùs, although it only has a secondary accent and is the last part of the verse, rhymes with the last syllable of the word chéuailrús, which also has a secondary accent in everyday speech, but here serves as the fourth metrical accent of the verse. In the second couplet, the syllable lyng from the word wéderlỳng, which carries a secondary accent and is part of the thesis, rhymes with the word hyng, which has the rhythmic accent. In the last group of verses, the last syllable of the words paramour and honour, both with secondary accents, rhyme with the word hour, which carries the last rhythmic accent. Similar rhymes can be found even in modern English poetry, such as in the works of Thomas Moore: Váin were its mélodỳ, Róse, without thée or Whát would the Róse bè Únsung by thée?[115]
It also frequently happens that all the rhyming syllables, which have a secondary accent and occur in the thesis of a verse, belong to trisyllabic words, while the accented syllables in the arsis, whether alliterating or not, do not take part in the rhyme, e.g.:
It often happens that all the rhyming syllables, which have a secondary accent and appear in the thesis of a verse, belong to trisyllabic words, while the accented syllables in the arsis, whether they alliterate or not, do not participate in the rhyme, e.g.:
Similar unaccented rhymes are also met with in disyllabic words:
Similar unaccented rhymes can also be found in two-syllable words:
Other rhymes of the same kind are sémbland: léuand, conséntand : endúrand, Gol. 428 ff., &c.
Other rhymes of the same kind are sémbland: léuand, conséntand : endúrand, Gol. 428 ff., &c.
In all such cases the natural accentuation of the words is not interfered with by the rhythm of the verse.
In all these cases, the natural emphasis of the words isn't disrupted by the rhythm of the verse.
The kind of irregular rhyme most frequently occurring, however, is that which is formed by the unaccented syllable of a disyllabic word (the first syllable of which alliterates and bears the last arsis of the verse) rhyming with a monosyllabic word which likewise bears the fourth rhythmical accent of another alliterative line (or the second of a short line forming part of the cauda) and takes part in the alliteration as well, as e.g. in the rhymes Túskane: sane: Brítane: gane and súmmovne: rénovne: crovne of the above-mentioned stanza of the poem Golagras and Gawane.
The most common type of irregular rhyme is formed by the unstressed syllable of a two-syllable word (the first syllable of which alliterates and carries the last stress of the verse) rhyming with a one-syllable word that also carries the fourth rhythmic accent of another alliterative line (or the second of a short line that is part of the tail) and participates in the alliteration as well, such as in the rhymes Túskane: sane: Brítane: gane and súmmovne: rénovne: crovne from the aforementioned stanza of the poem Golagras and Gawane.
It is not likely that a complete shifting of accent in favour of the rhyming syllable ever took place, as the first syllables of the words usually take part in the alliteration, and therefore have a strongly marked accent. Sometimes, it is true, in the poems of this epoch, unaccented syllables do participate in the alliteration, and in the case of the words Tuskane, Britane, summovne, renovne their Romance origin would explain the accent on the last syllable; but these words, both as to their position and as to their treatment in the line, are exactly on a par with the Germanic rhyme-words in ll. 870–2:
It’s unlikely that there was ever a complete shift in emphasis toward the rhyming syllable, since the first syllables of words typically participate in alliteration and therefore have a strong emphasis. It's true that in the poems from this period, some unaccented syllables do take part in alliteration, and for words like Tuskane, Britane, summovne, renovne, their Romance origins would explain the emphasis on the last syllable; however, these words, in terms of their placement and how they are treated in the line, are exactly on par with the Germanic rhyme-words in lines 870–2:
In both cases we thus have ‘accented-unaccented rhymes’ (cf. Chapter I in Book II), which probably were uttered in oral recitation with a certain level stress. This is probable for several reasons. First it is to be borne in mind that Germanic words in even-beat rhythms of earlier and contemporary poems were used in the same way, e.g.:
In both cases, we have ‘accented-unaccented rhymes’ (see Chapter I in Book II), which were likely spoken in oral performances with a certain level of emphasis. This is likely for several reasons. First, it’s important to remember that Germanic words in even-beat rhythms in earlier and contemporary poems were used in the same way, for example:
Only in these cases the rhythmical accent supersedes the word accent which has to accommodate itself to the former, while in the uneven-beat rhythm of the four-beat alliterative line the word-accent still predominates. In the even-beat lines, therefore, the rhythmical accent rests on the last syllable of a disyllabic rhyme-word, but in the alliterative lines it rests on the penultimate. In the case of words of Romance origin, however, which during this period of the language could be used either with Germanic or with Romanic accentuation, the displacement of the word-accent by the rhythmic accent in non-alliterative words may in these cases have been somewhat more extensive; cf. e.g. rhymes like rage: curáge: suáge Gol. 826–8; day : gay: journáy ib. 787–9; assáill: mettáill: battáil R. Coilȝear, 826–8, &c. (but ȝone bérne in the báttale Gol. 806).
Only in these cases does the rhythmic accent take precedence over the word accent, which has to adjust to the former. In the uneven-beat rhythm of the four-beat alliterative line, the word accent still has the upper hand. Therefore, in the even-beat lines, the rhythmic accent falls on the last syllable of a disyllabic rhyme word, while in the alliterative lines, it falls on the second-to-last syllable. However, for words of Romance origin, which could be used with either Germanic or Romance accentuation during this period, the shift of the word accent to the rhythmic accent in non-alliterative words may have been somewhat more widespread. For example, consider rhymes like rage: curáge: suáge Gol. 826–8; day : gay: journáy ib. 787–9; assáill: mettáill: battáil R. Coilȝear, 826–8, etc. (but ȝone bérne in the báttale Gol. 806).
As a rule, however, for these too the same level-stress accentuation must be assumed as for the rhyme-words of the first stanza of Golagras quoted above (p. 102)
As a rule, though, for these as well, the same level-stress accentuation should be applied as for the rhyme-words of the first stanza of Golagras mentioned above (p. 102)
§ 63. This is all the more probable because, in these alliterative-rhyming poems, there are many sectional verses corresponding to the old types C and C1, these answering best the combined requirements of alliteration and of end-rhyme, for which frequently one and the same Germanic or Romanic word had to suffice in the second hemistich, as e.g. in the following sectional verses rhyming together:—What is þi góod réde: for his kníȝthéde: (by crósse and by créde) Awnt. of Arth. 93–7; (and bláke to þe bóne): as a wómáne ib. 105–7; enclósed with a crowne: of the trésóne ib. 287–91; of ane fáir wéll: téirfull to téll: with ane cástéll : kéne and crúèll, or, as Prof. Luick scans, kéne and cruéll (but l. 92 crúel and kéne) Gol. 40–6; at the mýddáy: (wént thai thar wáy) Howl. 665–7. &c.
§ 63. This is even more likely because, in these alliterative-rhyming poems, there are many sectional verses that correspond to the old types C and C1, which best meet the combined needs of alliteration and end-rhyme. Often, one Germanic or Romanic word had to be used for both parts of the line, as seen in the following sectional verses that rhyme together:—What is your good advice: for his knightliness: (by cross and by credence) Awnt. of Arth. 93–7; (and black to the bone): as a woman ib. 105–7; enclosed with a crown: of the treason ib. 287–91; of a fair well: terrifying to tell: with a castle: keen and cruel, or, as Prof. Luick reads, keen and cruel (but l. 92 cruel and keen) Gol. 40–6; at midday: (went they that way) Howl. 665–7. &c.
Also in the even-beat metres the influence of this type is still perceptible; cf. rhymes like
Also in the even-beat meters, the influence of this type is still noticeable; cf. rhymes like
which are of frequent occurrence.
which happen frequently.
For the rest both in these alliterative-rhyming poems and in the poems with alliteration only the types A and A1, B C and B C1 are frequent. These alliterative-rhyming lines have this feature in common with the pure alliterative lines, that the first hemistich differs materially from the second in having often an anacrusis of several syllables (initial theses) and somewhat lengthened theses in the middle of the line, and in permitting such theses with only a secondary accent to take part in the alliteration. All this tends to give a somewhat heavy rhythmic cadence to the whole line.
For the rest, both in these alliterative-rhyming poems and in the poems with only alliteration, the types A and A1, B C, and B C1 are common. These alliterative-rhyming lines share a characteristic with the purely alliterative lines: the first half of the line usually differs significantly from the second, often starting with several syllables (initial theses) and featuring somewhat elongated theses in the middle of the line, allowing theses with only a secondary accent to be part of the alliteration. This tends to create a heavier rhythmic cadence throughout the line.
§ 64. The same difference is perceptible, as Prof. Luick was the first to show (Anglia, xii, pp. 438 ff.), in the single two-beat lines of the cauda, the three first (ll. 10–12 of the whole stanza) having the looser structure of the extended first hemistichs of the long lines, while the last two-beat line (line 13 of the whole stanza) has the normal structure (commonly type A, A1, as e.g. Birnand thrétty and thré Gol. 247; Of góld that wes cléir ib. 1) of second sections of the long line, as is evident from the first stanza of Golagras and Gawane quoted above (p. 102). In this concluding line, however, other types of verse peculiar to the second hemistich of long lines may also be met with, as e.g. C, C1, BC, BC1, e.g.: For thi mánhéde Awnt. of Arth. 350; Withoutin dístánce Gol. 1362; As I am tréw kníght Gol. 169; Couth na léid sáy ib. 920; In ony ríche réime ib. 1258, Quhen he wes líghtit dóun ib. 130.
§ 64. The same distinction is noticeable, as Prof. Luick was the first to illustrate (Anglia, xii, pp. 438 ff.), in the single two-beat lines of the cauda, the first three (lines 10–12 of the entire stanza) featuring the more relaxed structure of the extended first hemistichs of the long lines, while the last two-beat line (line 13 of the overall stanza) has the standard structure (commonly type A, A1, such as Birnand thrétty and thré Gol. 247; Of góld that wes cléir ib. 1) of the second sections of the long line, as shown in the first stanza of Golagras and Gawane mentioned earlier (p. 102). However, in this concluding line, other types of verse specific to the second hemistich of long lines may also appear, for example, C, C1, BC, BC1, such as: For thi mánhéde Awnt. of Arth. 350; Withoutin dístánce Gol. 1362; As I am tréw kníght Gol. 169; Couth na léid sáy ib. 920; In ony ríche réime ib. 1258, Quhen he wes líghtit dóun ib. 130.
In other poems the group of short lines rhyming according to the scheme a a a b and forming part of the cauda is preceded neither by a long alliterative line nor by a one-beat half section of it (as in Susan), but by a complete two-beat sectional verse, which then, in the same way as the last verse rhyming with it, corresponds in its structure to that of the second hemistich of the long line; as e.g. in The Tournament of Tottenham (Ritson’s Ancient Songs, i. 85–94), rhyming on the scheme A A A A b c c c b (the capitals signifying the long lines), and in The Ballad of Kynd Kittok, possibly by W. Dunbar (Laing, ii. 35, 36; Small, i. 52, 53; Schipper, 70).
In other poems, a group of short lines that rhyme with the pattern a a a b and are part of the cauda isn't preceded by a long alliterative line or a one-beat half section of it (like in Susan), but instead by a complete two-beat sectional verse. This verse matches the structure of the last verse it rhymes with, similar to the second half of the long line. For example, in The Tournament of Tottenham (Ritson’s Ancient Songs, i. 85–94), it rhymes with the scheme A A A A b c c c b (with the capitals indicating the long lines), and in The Ballad of Kynd Kittok, possibly by W. Dunbar (Laing, ii. 35, 36; Small, i. 52, 53; Schipper, 70).
In Sayne John the Euaungelist the ‘cauda’ has the structure of a complete tail-rhyme-stanza, the order of rhymes of the whole stanza being A B A B A B A B c c d c c d
In Sayne John the Euaungelist, the ‘cauda’ is structured as a full tail-rhyme stanza, with the rhyme scheme of the entire stanza being A B A B A B A B c c d c c d
§ 65. In connexion with this it is particularly interesting to note that such two-beat sections of the alliterative line are also used by themselves for whole poems written in tail-rhyme-stanzas (as was first shown by Prof. Luick, Anglia, xii, pp. 440 ff.); cf. e.g. the translation of the Disticha Catonis (E.E.T.S. 68), the two first stanzas of which may be quoted here:
§ 65. In connection with this, it's particularly interesting to note that these two-beat sections of the alliterative line are also used on their own for entire poems written in tail-rhyme stanzas (as first demonstrated by Prof. Luick, Anglia, xii, pp. 440 ff.); see, for example, the translation of the Disticha Catonis (E.E.T.S. 68), the first two stanzas of which can be quoted here:
In the same stanza The Feest (Hazlitt, Remains, iii. 93) is written.
In the same stanza The Feest (Hazlitt, Remains, iii. 93) is written.
Still more frequently such lines were used for extended tail-rhyme-stanzas rhyming on the scheme a a a b c c c b d d d b e e e b, as e.g. in a poem, The Enemies of Mankind, of the beginning of the fourteenth century, published by Kölbing (Engl. Studien, ix. 440 ff.).
Still more often, such lines were used for longer tail-rhyme stanzas following the rhyme scheme a a a b c c c b d d d b e e e b, like in the poem The Enemies of Mankind from the early fourteenth century, published by Kölbing (Engl. Studien, ix. 440 ff.).
The first stanza runs as follows:
The first stanza goes like this:
Here, again, the difference between the lines on the pattern of the first hemistich of the long line, which form the body of the stanza (a a a, b b b, c c c, d d d), and those on the pattern of the second hemistich used as tail-rhyme lines (b, b, b, b) is plainly recognizable.
Here, again, the difference between the lines in the pattern of the first half of the long line, which make up the main part of the stanza (a a a, b b b, c c c, d d d), and those in the pattern of the second half used as tail-rhyme lines (b, b, b, b) is clearly noticeable.
The same is the case in other poems written in this form of stanza, as e.g. in the Metrical Romances, Sir Perceval, Sir Degrevant (Halliwell, Thornton Romances, Camden Society, 1844, pp. 1, 177) and others; cf. Luick, Anglia, xii, pp. 440ff., and Paul’s Grundriss, ii a, p. 1016. But in these later works, one of the latest of which probably is the poem The Droichis Part of the Play, possibly by Dunbar (Laing, ii. 37; Small, ii. 314; Schipper, 190), the two-beat lines are frequently intermingled and blended with even-beat lines, which from the beginning of the fifth stanza onward completely take the place of the two-beat lines in the last-mentioned poem. Likewise in the ‘Bob-wheel-staves’, i.e. stanzas of the structure of those sixteenth-century stanzas quoted above (§§ 60, 61), the cauda, as is expressly stated by King James VI in his Revlis and Cavtelis, is written in even-beat lines of four and three measures, though the main part of the stanza (the frons) is composed in four-beat rhyming-alliterative lines (cf. Luick, Anglia, xii, P. 444)
The same applies to other poems written in this form of stanza, such as in the Metrical Romances, Sir Perceval, Sir Degrevant (Halliwell, Thornton Romances, Camden Society, 1844, pp. 1, 177) and others; see Luick, Anglia, xii, pp. 440ff., and Paul’s Grundriss, ii a, p. 1016. However, in these later works, one of the most recent of which is probably the poem The Droichis Part of the Play, possibly by Dunbar (Laing, ii. 37; Small, ii. 314; Schipper, 190), the two-beat lines are frequently mixed and blended with even-beat lines, which from the start of the fifth stanza onward completely replace the two-beat lines in the previously mentioned poem. Similarly, in the ‘Bob-wheel-staves,’ i.e. stanzas structured like those sixteenth-century stanzas quoted above (§§ 60, 61), the cauda, as specifically stated by King James VI in his Revlis and Cavtelis, is written in even-beat lines of four and three measures, although the main part of the stanza (the frons) is composed of four-beat rhyming-alliterative lines (see Luick, Anglia, xii, p. 444).
In the first place, we must note that in the earlier collections of Mystery Plays (Towneley Mysteries, York Plays, and Ludus Coventriae) the rhyming alliterative long line, popular, as we have seen, in lyric and in narrative poetry, is also used in the same or cognate forms of stanzas.
In the beginning, we should point out that in the earlier collections of Mystery Plays (Towneley Mysteries, York Plays, and Ludus Coventriae), the rhyming alliterative long line, which we've seen is popular in both lyric and narrative poetry, is also used in the same or similar forms of stanzas.
But the form of verse in these Mysteries, owing to the loss of regular alliteration, cannot with propriety be described as the four-beat alliterative long line, but only as the four-beat long line. In many instances, however, the remnants of alliteration decidedly point to the four-beat character of this rhythm, as e.g. in the following stanza of the Towneley Mysteries (p. 140):
But the way verse is structured in these Mysteries, due to the loss of consistent alliteration, can't accurately be called the four-beat alliterative long line, but only the four-beat long line. Nevertheless, in many cases, the remnants of alliteration clearly indicate the four-beat nature of this rhythm, as seen in the following stanza of the Towneley Mysteries (p. 140):
In this form of stanza the different groups of lines or even single lines are frequently, as e.g. in the so-called Processus Noe (the Play of the Flood), very skilfully divided between several persons taking part in the dialogue. The interlaced rhyme in the long lines connects it with the stanza form of the lyric poem quoted above (p. 100), and the form of the ‘cauda’ relates it to that of the lyric poem quoted (p. 101), and in this respect is identical with that of The Pistill of Susan.
In this type of stanza, different groups of lines or even individual lines are often, as seen in the so-called Processus Noe (the Play of the Flood), skillfully divided among various characters participating in the dialogue. The interlaced rhyme in the long lines ties it to the stanza form of the lyrical poem mentioned earlier (p. 100), and the structure of the ‘cauda’ connects it to that of the lyric poem referenced (p. 101), making it identical to that of The Pistill of Susan.
The rhythmic treatment of the verses is, both with regard to the relation between rhyme and the remnants of alliteration and to the use of the Middle English types of verse, on the whole the same as was described in §§ 62–4 treating of this form of verse in narrative poetry. The types A and A1, B C and B C1, are chiefly met with; now and then, however, type C1 also occurs in the second hemistich, as e.g. in the verses that wold vówch sáyf 172, of the tént máyne 487, wille com agáne sóne 488, of the Play of the Flood mentioned above.
The rhythmic treatment of the verses is, regarding the relationship between rhyme and the remnants of alliteration, and the use of Middle English verse types, generally the same as what was described in §§ 62–4 about this form of verse in narrative poetry. The types A and A1, B, C, and B C1, are primarily found; occasionally, though, type C1 also appears in the second hemistich, as in the verses that wold vówch sáyf 172, of the tént máyne 487, wille com agáne sóne 488, from the Play of the Flood mentioned above.
But in the ‘cauda’ the difference explained in § 65 between first and second short lines forming the close of a stanza is often very regularly observed.
But in the ‘cauda,’ the difference explained in § 65 between the first and second short lines that finish a stanza is often consistently observed.
In other places of the Towneley Mysteries similar stanzas are written in lines which have almost an alexandrine rhythm (cf. Metrik, i. 229), while, on the other hand, in the Coventry Mysteries we not unfrequently meet with stanzas of the same form written in lines which, in consequence of their concise structure, approach even-beat lines of four measures, or directly pass into this metre. The intermixture of different kinds of line is even carried here to such a length that to a frons of four-beat lines is joined a cauda of even-beat lines of four or three measures corresponding to King James VI’s rule quoted above (p. 108) for such stanzas; and on the other hand to a frons of even-beat lines of four measures is joined a cauda of two-beat short lines.
In other parts of the Towneley Mysteries, similar stanzas are written in lines that almost have an alexandrine rhythm (cf. Metrik, i. 229). Meanwhile, in the Coventry Mysteries, we often encounter stanzas of the same form written in lines that, due to their concise structure, either resemble even-beat lines of four measures or directly transition into this meter. The mix of different line types is taken to such an extent that a frons of four-beat lines is combined with a cauda of even-beat lines of four or three measures, corresponding to King James VI’s rule quoted above (p. 108) for such stanzas; conversely, a frons of even-beat lines of four measures can have a cauda of two-beat short lines.
§ 67. The distinctly four-beat line, however, still forms the staple of the different kinds of verse occurring in these poems, and was also used in them for simple forms of stanza. In the further development of dramatic poetry it remained much in use. Skelton’s Moral Play Magnificence, and most of the Moralities and Interludes contained in Dodsley’s Old Plays (ed. Hazlitt), vols. i-iv, are written chiefly in this popular metre. As a rule it rhymes here in couplets, and under the influence of the even-beat measures used in the same dramatic pieces it gradually assumes a pretty regular iambic-anapaestic or trochaic-dactylic rhythm. This applies for the most part to the humorous and popular parts; allegorical and historical personages are made to converse in even-beat verses.
§ 67. The clear four-beat line still serves as the foundation of the various types of verse found in these poems, and was also used for simple stanza forms. In the further evolution of dramatic poetry, it continued to be widely used. Skelton’s Moral Play Magnificence, along with most of the Moralities and Interludes in Dodsley’s Old Plays (ed. Hazlitt), vols. i-iv, are primarily written in this popular meter. Generally, it rhymes in couplets here, and influenced by the even-beat measures used in these dramatic works, it gradually takes on a fairly regular iambic-anapaestic or trochaic-dactylic rhythm. This is mostly true for the humorous and popular sections; allegorical and historical characters are depicted conversing in even-beat verses.
Verses of an ascending (iambic-anapaestic) rhythm were especially favoured, as might be expected from the fact that the Middle English alliterative line in the preceding centuries usually begins with one or two unaccented syllables before the first accented one.
Verses with an ascending rhythm, like iambic and anapaestic patterns, were particularly popular, which makes sense since the Middle English alliterative line in the previous centuries typically starts with one or two unstressed syllables before the first stressed one.
Of the different types used in the Middle English alliterative line type C (C1), which does not harmonize well with the even-beat tendency of the rhythm, and which is only very seldom if at all to be met with even in the Coventry Plays, becomes very rare and tends to disappear altogether, type A (A1) and (although these are much less frequent) type B C (B C1) alone remaining in use.
Of the different types used in the Middle English alliterative line, type C (C1), which doesn't fit well with the even-beat tendency of the rhythm, and which is very rarely found even in the Coventry Plays, becomes increasingly rare and tends to disappear altogether, with type A (A1) and (although ) these being much less frequent, type B C (B C1) remaining the only one in use.
§ 68. Of the more easily accessible pieces of Bishop John Bale (1495–1563) his Comedye Concernynge Thre Lawes, edited by A. Schröer (Anglia, v, pp. 137 ff., also separately, Halle, Niemeyer, 1882) is written in two-beat short lines and four-beat long lines, and his King Johan (c. 1548) (edited by Collier, Camden Society, 1838) entirely in this latter metre. The latter play has a peculiar interest of its own, containing as it does lines which, as in two Old English poems (cf. pp. 123, 124), consist either half or entirely of Latin words. Now, as the accentuation of the Latin lines or half-lines admits of no uncertainty, the four-beat scansion of the English verses of this play and of the long lines in The Three Lawes is put beyond doubt, though Schröer considers the latter as eight-beat long lines on the basis of the four-beat theory of the short line.
§ 68. One of the more accessible works by Bishop John Bale (1495–1563) is his Comedye Concernynge Thre Lawes, edited by A. Schröer (Anglia, v, pp. 137 ff., also separately, Halle, Niemeyer, 1882). This work is composed of two-beat short lines and four-beat long lines. His play King Johan (c. 1548), edited by Collier, Camden Society, 1838, is entirely in this four-beat meter. This play has its own unique interest because it includes lines that, like in two Old English poems (see pp. 123, 124), are composed either partially or entirely of Latin words. Since the accentuation of the Latin lines or half-lines is clear, the four-beat rhythm of the English verses in this play and the long lines in The Three Lawes is indisputable, although Schröer argues that the latter are eight-beat long lines based on the four-beat theory of the short line.
Some specimens may serve to illustrate the nature of these ‘macaronic’ verses, e.g.:
Some examples can show what these 'macaronic' verses are like, for instance:
Other verses of the same kind occur, pp. 5, 6, 53, 62, 78, 92.
Other verses of a similar type appear on pages 5, 6, 53, 62, 78, 92.
But apart from this irrefutable proof of the four-beat scansion of the long line, the rhythmic congruity of it with the rhyming alliterative lines discussed in § 67 can easily be demonstrated by the reoccurrence of the same types, although a difference between the first and the second hemistich no longer seems to exist.
But aside from this undeniable evidence of the four-beat pattern in the long line, its rhythmic alignment with the rhyming alliterative lines mentioned in § 67 can easily be shown by the repetition of the same types, even though the difference between the first and second half-line no longer seems to exist.
Type A, of course, is the most frequent, and occurs in many sub-types, which are distinguished chiefly by monosyllabic, disyllabic, or polysyllabic anacruses, disyllabic or polysyllabic theses between the first and second arsis, and monosyllabic, disyllabic, or trisyllabic theses after the latter. The most usual form of this type corresponds to the scheme (×)×–́××–́×, while the form –́××–́× is rarer. Type A1 likewise admits of polysyllabic anacruses and theses, corresponding mostly to the formula (×)×–́××–́, less frequently to –́××–́. Type B C (×)××–́×–́× is rare, type B C1 (×)××–́×–́, on the other hand, very common; type C (×)××–́–́× still occurs now and then, but type C1 (×)××–́–́ has become exceedingly scarce.
Type A is, of course, the most common and has many sub-types, which are mainly differentiated by monosyllabic, disyllabic, or polysyllabic anacruses, disyllabic or polysyllabic theses between the first and second arsis, and monosyllabic, disyllabic, or trisyllabic theses after the latter. The most typical form of this type aligns with the scheme (×)×–́××–́×, while the form –́××–́× is less common. Type A1 also allows for polysyllabic anacruses and theses, mainly following the formula (×)×–́××–́, and less frequently –́××–́. Type B C (×)××–́×–́× is rare, while type B C1 (×)××–́×–́ is very common. Type C (×)××–́–́× still appears now and then, but type C1 (×)××–́–́ has become extremely rare.
§ 69. Statistical investigations as to the frequency of occurrence, and especially on the grouping of these different types are still wanting, and would contribute greatly toward the more exact knowledge of the development of the iambic-anapaestic and the trochaic-dactylic metre out of the four-beat verse. Of course in such an investigation the use of anacrusis in the types A and A1 should not be neglected. According to the presence or absence of anacrusis in the two hemistichs four different kinds of line may be distinguished:
§ 69. Research on how often different types appear and especially how these types are grouped is still lacking, and it would greatly help us understand how the iambic-anapaestic and trochaic-dactylic meters developed from four-beat verse. Naturally, in such research, we shouldn’t overlook the use of anacrusis in types A and A1. Depending on whether anacrusis is present or absent in the two hemistichs, we can identify four different kinds of lines:
1. Lines with anacrusis in both hemistichs. These are the most numerous of all, and are chiefly represented by the combinations of types A(A1) + A(A1), A(A1) + B C1(B C):
1. Lines with anacrusis in both halves. These are the most common of all, mainly represented by the combinations of types A(A1) + A(A1), A(A1) + B C1(B C):
2. Lines with anacrusis in the first section and without it in the second. These are almost exclusively represented by the combination A(A1) + A(A1); rarely by B C1(B C) + A(A1):
2. Lines that start with an anacrusis in the first section and don’t have one in the second. These are mostly shown by the combination A(A1) + A(A1); and only occasionally by B C1(B C) + A(A1):
A + A1: | For wélthe without méasure | sódenly wyll slýde. Skelton, Magn. 194. |
A + A1: | Howe sódenly wórldly | wélth dothe dekáy, |
A + A1: | How wýsdom thórowe wántonnesse | ványisshyth awáy. ib. 2579–80. |
A + A1: | Behóld, I práy you, | sée where they áre. Four Elements, Dodsl. i. 10. |
B C + A1: | I am your éldest són, | Ésau by my náme. Jacob and Esau, ib. ii. 249. |
3. Lines without anacrusis in the first section and with anacrusis in the second; likewise chiefly represented by the types A (A1) + A (A1), rarely by A (A1) + B C (B C1):
3. Lines without anacrusis in the first section and with anacrusis in the second; likewise mainly represented by the types A (A1) + A (A1), and rarely by A (A1) + B C (B C1):
4. Lines without anacrusis in either section, so that they are wholly dactylic in rhythm, only represented by A (A1) + A1 (A):
4. Lines without anacrusis in either section, so that they are completely dactylic in rhythm, only represented by A (A1) + A1 (A):
A + A: | Sáncte Francísse | óra pro nóbis! Bale, Johan, p. 25. |
A + A: | Péace, for with my spéctables | vádam et vidébo. ib. p. 30. |
A + A: | Sýr, without ány | lónger délyaunce. Skelton, Magn. 239. |
A + A1: | Wín her or lóse her, | trý you the tráp. Appius and Virginia, Dodsl. iv. 132. |
A + A1: | Líkewise for a cómmonwealth | óccupied is hé. Four Elements, ib. i. 9. |
A + A1: | Whát, you sáucy | málapert knáve. Jack Juggler, ib. ii. 145. |
The numerical preponderance of types A + A1 is at once perceptible, and usually these two types of hemistichs are combined in this order to form a long line.
The clear majority of types A + A1 is noticeable, and typically these two types of hemistichs are joined in this sequence to create a long line.
The result is that in the course of time whole passages made up of lines of the same rhythmical structure (A + A1) are common in the dramatic poetry of this period, as e.g. in the Prologue to Gammer Gurton’s Needle:
The result is that over time, entire sections consisting of lines with the same rhythmic structure (A + A1) are common in the dramatic poetry of this period, as seen in the Prologue to Gammer Gurton’s Needle:
Possibly this preference of the type A1 in the second half line may go back to the influence of the difference between the rhythmical structure of the first and the second hemistich of the alliterative line in early Middle English poetry.
Possibly, this preference for type A1 in the second half of the line may stem from the influence of the difference in the rhythmic structure between the first and second hemistich of the alliterative line in early Middle English poetry.
For in this play those halves of tail-rhyme stanzas, which form the ‘wheels’ of the alliterative-rhyming stanzas previously described (§§ 61 and 66) as used in narrative poetry and in the mysteries, are completed so as to form entire tail-rhyme stanzas (of six or eight lines) similar to those mentioned in § 65. This will be evident from the following examples:
For in this play, the parts of the tail-rhyme stanzas, which create the 'wheels' of the alliterative-rhyming stanzas talked about earlier (§§ 61 and 66) used in narrative poetry and in the mysteries, are finished to form complete tail-rhyme stanzas (of six or eight lines) like those mentioned in § 65. This will be clear from the following examples:
The difference in rhythm which we have previously pointed out between the lines of the body of the stanza (corresponding to first halves of the alliterative line) and those of the tail (corresponding to second halves) may again be observed in most of the stanzas of this play, although not in all of them.
The difference in rhythm that we mentioned earlier between the lines in the body of the stanza (which correspond to the first halves of the alliterative line) and those in the tail (which correspond to the second halves) can still be seen in most of the stanzas of this play, although not in all of them.
In other passages the sequence of rhymes is less regular; e.g. in ll. 190–209, which rhyme according to the formulas a a a b c c b, d d b e e b, e e e f g g f
In other sections, the pattern of rhymes is less consistent; for example, in lines 190–209, which rhyme according to the patterns a a a b c c b, d d b e e b, e e e f g g f
§ 71. Lastly, we must mention another kind of verse or stave originating in the resolution of the four-beat alliterative line into two sections, and their combination so as to form irregular tail-rhyme stanzas, viz. the so-called Skeltonic verse. This kind of verse, however, was not invented (as is erroneously stated in several Histories of English Literature) by Skelton, but existed before him, as is evident from the preceding remarks. The name came to be given to the metre from the fact that Skelton, poet laureate of King Henry VII, was fond of this metre, and used it for several popular poems.
§ 71. Lastly, we should mention another type of verse or stanza that comes from breaking down the four-beat alliterative line into two parts and combining them to create irregular tail-rhyme stanzas, known as Skeltonic verse. However, this type of verse was not actually created (as incorrectly stated in various Histories of English Literature) by Skelton; it existed before him, as shown in the previous comments. The term was assigned to this meter because Skelton, the poet laureate under King Henry VII, enjoyed using it in several popular poems.
In Skelton’s metre the strict form of the alliterative four-beat line has arrived at the same stage of development which the freer form had reached about three hundred years earlier in Layamon’s Brut, and afterwards in King Horn. That is to say, in Skelton’s metre the long line is broken up by sectional rhyme into two short ones. The first specimens of this verse which occur in the Towneley Mysteries, in the Chester Plays, and in some of the Moralities, e.g. in The World and the Child (Dodsl. i), resemble Layamon’s verse in so far as long lines (without sectional rhymes) and short rhyming half-lines occur in one and the same passage. On the other hand, they differ from it and approach nearer to the strophic form of the alliterative line (as occurring in the Miracle Plays) in that the short lines do not rhyme in couplets, but in a different and varied order of rhyme, mostly a b a b; cf. the following passage (l. c., p. 247):
In Skelton’s meter, the strict structure of the alliterative four-beat line has reached the same level of development that the more flexible form hit about three hundred years earlier in Layamon’s Brut, and later in King Horn. This means that in Skelton’s meter, the long line is split into two shorter ones by sectional rhyme. The first examples of this verse appear in the Towneley Mysteries, in the Chester Plays, and in some of the Moralities, such as The World and the Child (Dodsl. i), resembling Layamon’s verse in that both long lines (without sectional rhymes) and short rhyming half-lines appear in the same passage. However, they differ from it and come closer to the strophic form of the alliterative line (as seen in the Miracle Plays) because the short lines don’t rhyme in couplets but follow a different and varied rhyme scheme, mostly a b a b; see the following passage (l. c., p. 247):
In Skelton’s Magnificence the short lines rhyme in couplets like those of King Horn, in a passage taken from p. 257 (part of which may be quoted here):
In Skelton’s Magnificence, the short lines rhyme in couplets like those in King Horn, in a passage taken from p. 257 (part of which may be quoted here):
In other poems Skelton uses short lines of two beats, but rhyming in a varied order under the influence, it would seem, of the strophic system of the virelay, which rhymes in the order a a a b b b b c c c c d. But the succession of rhymes is more irregular in the Skeltonic metre, as e. g. in the passage:
In other poems, Skelton uses short lines of two beats, but rhymes them in a mixed order, influenced, it seems, by the structure of the virelay, which rhymes in the pattern a a a b b b b c c c c d. However, the sequence of rhymes is less consistent in the Skeltonic meter, as, for example, in the passage:
In other cases short bob-lines of one beat only interchange with two-beat rhythms, as e.g. in Skelton’s poem Caudatos Anglos (i. 193):
In other cases, short bob-lines of just one beat alternate with two-beat rhythms, as seen in Skelton’s poem Caudatos Anglos (i. 193):
The mingling of Latin and English lines, as in this passage, is one of the characteristic features of the Skeltonic verse.
The mixing of Latin and English lines, like in this passage, is one of the defining traits of Skeltonic verse.
In some passages, as e.g. in the humorous poems Phyllyp Sparowe and Elinour Rummyng, the three-beat rhythm seems to prevail. In such cases it probably developed out of the two-beat rhythm in the same way as in King Horn.
In some parts, like in the funny poems Phyllyp Sparowe and Elinour Rummyng, the three-beat rhythm seems to dominate. In these instances, it likely evolved from the two-beat rhythm in the same way as in King Horn.
Skelton’s verse was chiefly used by poets of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries for satirical and burlesque poetry. One of its chief cultivators was John Taylor, the Water-poet. A list of Skeltonic poems is given in Dyce’s edition of Skelton’s poems, i. introduction, pp. cxxviii-cxxix.
Skelton’s verse was mainly used by poets in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries for satirical and comedic poetry. One of its main practitioners was John Taylor, the Water-poet. A list of Skeltonic poems can be found in Dyce’s edition of Skelton’s poems, i. introduction, pp. cxxviii-cxxix.
C. Revival of the old four-beat alliterative verse in the Modern English period.
§ 72. If after what precedes any doubt were possible as to the scansion of the verses quoted on p. 113 from the Prologue to the Early Modern English comedy of Gammer Gurton’s Needle, this doubt would be removed at once by the following couplet and by the accents put over the second line of it by the sixteenth-century metrician, George Gascoigne[116]:
§ 72. If there’s still any uncertainty about the rhythm of the lines quoted on p. 113 from the Prologue of the Early Modern English comedy Gammer Gurton’s Needle, this uncertainty will be eliminated immediately by the following couplet and the stress marks placed over the second line by the sixteenth-century poet, George Gascoigne[116]:
For the rhythm of these lines is perfectly identical with that of the lines of the above-mentioned prologue, and also with that of the alliterative line quoted ten years later (A. D. 1585), and called tumbling-verse by King James VI in his Revlis and Cavtelis, viz.:
For the rhythm of these lines is exactly the same as that of the lines in the previously mentioned prologue, and also matches the alliterative line cited ten years later (A.D. 1585), which was referred to as tumbling-verse by King James VI in his Revlis and Cavtelis, namely:
This is the very same rhythm in which a good many songs and ballads of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries are written, as e.g. the well-known ballad of King John and the Abbot of Canterbury, which begins with the following stanzas[117]:
This is the same rhythm that many songs and ballads from the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries are written in, like the famous ballad of King John and the Abbot of Canterbury, which starts with the following stanzas[117]:
This four-beat rhythm, which (as is proved by the definition King James VI gives of it) is the direct descendant of the old alliterative line, has continued in use in modern English poetry to the present day.
This four-beat rhythm, which is confirmed by the definition King James VI gave of it, is the direct descendant of the old alliterative line and has remained in use in modern English poetry to this day.
It occurs in the poem The recured Lover, by Sir Thomas Wyatt, one of the earliest Modern English poets, where it is intermixed sometimes with four-feet rhythms, as was the case also in several Early English poems. The general rhythm, however, is clearly of an iambic-anapaestic nature. Fifteen years after the death of Wyatt Thomas Tusser wrote part of his didactic poem A hundred good points of Husbandry in the same metre. In Tusser’s hands the metre is very regular, the first foot generally being an iambus and the following feet anapaests:
It appears in the poem The Recured Lover, by Sir Thomas Wyatt, one of the earliest Modern English poets. The poem sometimes mixes in four-foot rhythms, similar to several Early English poems. However, the overall rhythm is clearly iambic-anapaestic. Fifteen years after Wyatt's death, Thomas Tusser wrote part of his instructional poem A Hundred Good Points of Husbandry in the same meter. In Tusser's version, the meter is very consistent, with the first foot usually being an iamb and the following feet being anapaests.
The four beats of the rhythm and the regular occurrence of the caesura are as marked characteristics of these verses as of the earlier specimens of the metre.
The four beats of the rhythm and the consistent presence of the caesura are key features of these verses, just like in the earlier examples of the meter.
Spenser has written several eclogues of his Shepheard’s Calendar in this metre (February, May, September), and Shakespeare uses it in some lyric pieces of his King Henry IV, Part II, but also for dialogues, as e.g. Err. III. i. 11–84. In more modern times Matthew Prior (1664–1715) wrote a ballad Down Hall to the tune, as he says, of King John and the Abbot of Canterbury, which clearly shows that he meant to imitate the ancient popular four-beat rhythm, which he did with perfect success. In other poems he used it for stanzas rhyming in the order a b a b. Swift has used the same metre, and it became very popular in Scottish poetry through Allan Ramsay and Robert Burns, one of whose most famous poems is written in it, viz.:
Spenser has written several eclogues for his Shepheard’s Calendar in this meter (February, May, September), and Shakespeare uses it in some lyrical pieces from his King Henry IV, Part II, but also for dialogues, like in Err. III. i. 11–84. In more recent times, Matthew Prior (1664–1715) wrote a ballad Down Hall to the tune, as he mentions, of King John and the Abbot of Canterbury, which clearly shows that he intended to mimic the old popular four-beat rhythm, which he accomplished perfectly. In other poems, he used it for stanzas rhyming in the pattern a b a b. Swift used the same meter, and it became very popular in Scottish poetry through Allan Ramsay and Robert Burns, one of whose most famous poems is written in it, namely:
Sir Walter Scott used it frequently for drinking-songs, and Thomas Moore wrote his Letters of the Fudge Family in it.
Sir Walter Scott often used it for drinking songs, and Thomas Moore wrote his Letters of the Fudge Family in it.
By Coleridge and Byron this metre was used in the same way as by Wyatt, viz. intermixed with regular four-foot verse according to the subject, the four-beat iambic-anapaestic rhythm for livelier passages, the pure iambic for passages of narration and reflecti—. Byron’s Prisoner of Chillon and his Siege of Corinth are good specimens of this kind of metre.[118] On the other hand the regular four-foot rhythm, as will be shown below, if it is of a looser structure, develops into a kind of verse similar to the iambic-anapaestic rhythm—an additional reason for their existing side by side often in one poem.
By Coleridge and Byron, this meter was used similarly to how Wyatt did, meaning it was mixed with regular four-foot verse based on the content. The four-beat iambic-anapaestic rhythm was used for more lively sections, while the pure iambic was reserved for narrations and reflections. Byron's Prisoner of Chillon and Siege of Corinth are great examples of this type of meter.[118] On the other hand, the regular four-foot rhythm, as will be shown below, if it has a looser structure, evolves into a type of verse similar to the iambic-anapaestic rhythm—further supporting their coexistence often within the same poem.
A few variations of this metre remain to be mentioned, which occur as early as Tusser. The first variety arises from interlaced rhyme, by which the two four-beat verses are broken up into four two-beat verses rhyming in the order a b a b.
A few variations of this meter still need to be mentioned, which appear as early as Tusser. The first type comes from interlaced rhyme, where the two four-beat lines are split into four two-beat lines rhyming in the order a b a b.
On the model of these stanzas others were afterwards formed by Tusser consisting of three-beat verses of the same rhythm. The same verse was used for eight-line stanzas rhyming a b a b c d c d by Nicholas Rowe, Shenstone, Cowper, and in later times by Thackeray in one of his burlesque poems (Malony’s Lament in Ballads, the Rose and the Ring, &c., p. 225). For examples of these variations see the sections treating of the iambic-anapaestic verses of three and two measures.
Based on these stanzas, others were later created by Tusser using three-beat verses with the same rhythm. This same verse format was also used for eight-line stanzas that rhyme a b a b c d c d by Nicholas Rowe, Shenstone, Cowper, and later by Thackeray in one of his humorous poems (Malony’s Lament in Ballads, the Rose and the Ring, &c., p. 225). For examples of these variations, see the sections on the iambic-anapaestic verses of three and two measures.
The following passage from William Morris’s dramatic poem Love is enough may give an idea of the structure of this kind of verse:
The following passage from William Morris’s dramatic poem Love is enough may give an idea of the structure of this type of verse:
The rhythm, together with the irregular use of alliteration, places these four-beat alliterative lines on the same level with those of the dramatic poems of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries.
The rhythm, along with the uneven use of alliteration, puts these four-beat alliterative lines on the same level as those in the dramatic poems of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries.
The same kind of versification is found in Longfellow’s translation of the late Old English poem on The Grave, and in James M. Garnett’s translations of Beowulf and Cynewulf’s Elene. On the other hand, George Stephens, in his translation of the Old English poem on The Phoenix, published 1844, not only adheres strictly to the laws of alliteration, but confines himself to Germanic words, sometimes even using inflexional forms peculiar to Middle English.
The same type of verse appears in Longfellow’s translation of the late Old English poem on The Grave, as well as in James M. Garnett’s translations of Beowulf and Cynewulf’s Elene. In contrast, George Stephens, in his 1844 translation of the Old English poem on The Phoenix, not only follows the rules of alliteration closely but also sticks to Germanic words, occasionally even using inflectional forms unique to Middle English.
§ 74. We shall conclude this survey of the development of the four-beat alliterative line by giving a series of examples in reversed chronological order, beginning with writers of the present day and ending with the earliest remains of Old English poetry, in order to illustrate the identity in rhythmic structure of this metre in all periods of its history.
§ 74. We will wrap up this overview of the evolution of the four-beat alliterative line by presenting a series of examples in reverse chronological order, starting with contemporary writers and concluding with the earliest examples of Old English poetry, to demonstrate the consistency in rhythmic structure of this meter throughout its history.
Nineteenth Century, End:
Nineteenth Century, Conclusion:
Nineteenth Century, Beginning:
19th Century, Beginning:
Eighteenth Century, End:
18th Century, End:
Eighteenth Century, Middle:
18th Century, Middle:
Eighteenth Century, Beginning (1715):
18th Century, Beginning (1715):
Seventeenth Century, Beginning (or Sixteenth Century, End):
Seventeenth Century, Beginning (or Sixteenth Century, End):
Sixteenth Century, End (1585):
End of the 16th Century (1585):
Sixteenth Century (1575):
16th Century (1575):
Sixteenth Century (before 1575):
16th Century (before 1575):
Sixteenth Century, Middle (about 1548):
Mid-16th Century (around 1548):
Sixteenth Century, Beginning:
16th Century, Beginning:
Fifteenth Century, Second Half:
15th Century, Late:
Fifteenth Century, ? First Half:
15th Century, ? First Half:
Fourteenth Century, End:
End of the 14th Century:
Fourteenth Century, Second Half:
14th Century, Second Half:
Fourteenth Century, Beginning:
14th Century, Start:
Thirteenth Century, Middle:
13th Century, Medieval:
Thirteenth Century, Beginning:
13th Century, Beginning:
Twelfth Century:
12th Century:
Eleventh Century, End:
End of the 11th Century:
Eleventh Century, First Half:
11th Century, First Half:
Eleventh Century, Beginning:
11th Century, Beginning:
Tenth Century, End:
End of the 10th Century:
Ninth Century:
9th Century:
Eighth Century:
8th Century:
Seventh Century:
7th Century:
1. In the oldest remains of English poetry (Beowulf, Elene, Andreas, Judith, Phoenix, &c.) we already find lines with combined alliteration and rhyme intermixed with, and rhythmically equivalent to, the purely alliterative lines, exactly as we do in late Old English and early Middle English poems such as Byrhtnoth, Be Dōmes Dæge, Oratio Poetica, Chronicle an. 1036, Proverbs of Alfred, and Layamon’s Brut.
1. In the oldest examples of English poetry (Beowulf, Elene, Andreas, Judith, Phoenix, etc.), we can already see lines that combine alliteration and rhyme, mixed with lines that are purely alliterative, which are rhythmically comparable. This is similar to what we find in late Old English and early Middle English poems like Byrhtnoth, Be Dōmes Dæge, Oratio Poetica, Chronicle an. 1036, Proverbs of Alfred, and Layamon’s Brut.
2. In some of these poems, viz. the Phoenix and the Oratio Poetica, Latin two-beat hemistichs are combined with English hemistichs of similar rhythm to form regular long lines, just as is done in Bale’s play of Kinge Johan (sixteenth century).
2. In some of these poems, like the Phoenix and the Oratio Poetica, Latin two-beat hemistichs are mixed with English hemistichs of similar rhythm to create regular long lines, just like in Bale’s play Kinge Johan (sixteenth century).
3. The lines of this play agree in the general principle, and frequently in the details of their rhythmical structure, with alliterative-rhyming long lines which occur in lyric and epic poems of the same period, and which two contemporary metrists, Gascoigne and King James VI, recognized (independently of each other) as lines of four accents.
3. The lines of this play align with the general principle and often with the specific details of their rhythmic structure, matching the alliterative-rhyming long lines found in lyric and epic poems from the same time period. Two contemporary metrical theorists, Gascoigne and King James VI, recognized these as lines with four beats, and they did this independently of each other.
4. The rhythm of these sixteenth-century lines is indistinguishable from that of a four-accent metre which is popular in English and German poetry down to the present day.
4. The rhythm of these sixteenth-century lines is the same as that of a four-accent meter that is popular in English and German poetry even today.
These facts appear to leave no room for doubt that the Germanic metre has had a continuous history in English poetry from the earliest times down to the present, and that the long line, in Old and Middle English as in Modern English, had four accents (two in each hemistich). The proof acquires additional force from the fact, established by recent investigations, that the most important of the metrical types of the Old English hemistich are found again in Middle and Modern English poetry.
These facts leave no doubt that the Germanic meter has had a continuous history in English poetry from the earliest times to the present, and that the long line, in Old and Middle English as well as in Modern English, had four accents (two in each half-line). This is further supported by recent investigations showing that the main types of metrical half-lines found in Old English appear again in Middle and Modern English poetry.
PART II. FOREIGN METRES
DIVISION I. Foreign Units in General
CHAPTER V. INTRODUCTION
§ 76. It was not till about 150 years after the Norman Conquest that foreign metres were introduced in English literature under the influence of French and Low Latin versification. For these, too, the general law observed in all accentual poetry holds good, viz. that the word-accent and the syntactical accent must coincide with the rhythmical accent. This rule, however, was easier to observe in the old native four-beat alliterative metre, in which the proportion and order of accented and unaccented syllables admit of many variations, than in metres consisting of equal measures, which follow stricter rules in that respect. In the older native verse accordingly we seldom find deviations from this fundamental rule, whereas in the newer foreign metres they are more frequent and striking.
§ 76. It wasn’t until about 150 years after the Norman Conquest that foreign meters were introduced into English literature, influenced by French and Low Latin poetry. For these, the general rule that applies to all accentual poetry still holds true, which is that the word accent and the syntactical accent must align with the rhythmic accent. However, this rule was easier to follow in the traditional native four-beat alliterative meter, where the arrangement and proportion of accented and unaccented syllables allow for more variations, than in meters made up of equal measures, which have stricter rules. Consequently, in the older native verse, deviations from this fundamental rule are rare, while in the newer foreign meters, they are more common and noticeable.
The ordinary native alliterative metre was founded, as we have seen, on the principle that four accented syllables had to occur in each long line, together with an undefined number of unaccented ones, the position and order of those different syllables admitting many variations. The new metres constructed on foreign models during the Middle English period differ from the earlier rhythmic forms by the regularity of the alternation of unaccented and accented syllables and by the uniformity of their feet or measures; they are accordingly styled even-measured or even-beat verses.
The typical native alliterative meter was based on the idea that each long line needed to have four stressed syllables, along with an undefined number of unstressed ones, and the arrangement of these syllables allowed for various configurations. The new meters developed from foreign influences during the Middle English period stand apart from the earlier rhythmic patterns due to their consistent alternation of unstressed and stressed syllables and the uniformity of their feet or measures; these are therefore referred to as even-measured or even-beat verses.
Four different kinds are to be distinguished, viz. ascending and descending disyllabic measures, and ascending and descending trisyllabic measures, commonly called iambic, trochaic, anapaestic, and dactylic measures. In Middle English poetry, however, only iambic rhythms were used. The three other kinds of rhythms did not come in till the beginning of the Modern English period.
Four different types can be distinguished: ascending and descending disyllabic meters, and ascending and descending trisyllabic meters, commonly known as iambic, trochaic, anapaestic, and dactylic meters. In Middle English poetry, however, only iambic rhythms were used. The other three types of rhythms didn’t appear until the start of the Modern English period.
With regard to the development of various even-measured rhythms from these four different kinds of feet, it will suffice to consider the iambic and trochaic metres only, as these are the most important, and the formation of the anapaestic and the dactylic metres is to be explained in the same way.
With respect to the development of various evenly measured rhythms from these four different types of feet, it’s enough to focus on the iambic and trochaic meters only, as these are the most significant, and the formation of the anapestic and dactylic meters can be explained in the same way.
§ 77. According to the number of feet we may classify the different kinds of line—retaining the classical nomenclature—as dimeters, trimeters, tetrameters, &c.; (one meter always consisting of two iambic or trochaic, or anapaestic feet), so that, for instance, an iambic tetrameter contains eight iambic feet. Lines or rhythmical sections consisting of complete feet, i.e. of an equal number of accented and unaccented syllables, are called acatalectic or complete lines (dimeters, trimeters, &c.). If, however, the last foot of a line or of a rhythmical section be characterized by the omission of the last syllable, i.e. by a pause, the line is called catalectic or incomplete. The following examples will serve to illustrate the meaning of these terms:
§ 77. Based on the number of feet, we can classify the different kinds of line—keeping the traditional names—as dimeters, trimeters, tetrameters, etc.; (where one meter always consists of two iambic, trochaic, or anapaestic feet), meaning that, for example, an iambic tetrameter has eight iambic feet. Lines or rhythmic sections that consist of complete feet, meaning they have an equal number of accented and unaccented syllables, are called acatalectic or complete lines (dimeters, trimeters, etc.). However, if the last foot of a line or rhythmic section is missing the last syllable, creating a pause, the line is referred to as catalectic or incomplete. The following examples will help clarify these terms:
Acatalectic iambic tetrameter:
Acatalectic iambic tetrameter:
Catalectic iambic tetrameter:
Catalectic iambic tetrameter:
Acatalectic trochaic tetrameter (not represented in Middle English):
Acatalectic trochaic tetrameter (not represented in Middle English):
Catalectic trochaic tetrameter:
Catalectic trochaic tetrameter:
A line in which the whole last foot is supplied by a pause is called brachycatalectic.
A line where the entire last foot is completed with a pause is called brachycatalectic.
Brachycatalectic iambic tetrameter:
Brachycatalectic iambic tetrameter:
Brachycatalectic trochaic tetrameter:
Brachycatalectic trochaic tetrameter:
If both rhythmical sections of a tetrameter are brachycatalectic we get one of the four varieties of the Middle English Alexandrine—the only one that has continued in use in Modern English poetry.
If both rhythmic parts of a tetrameter are brachycatalectic, we get one of the four types of the Middle English Alexandrine—the only one that has continued to be used in Modern English poetry.
Alexandrine:
Alexandrine:
These are the principal forms of rhythmical sections made up of disyllabic feet that occur in Middle English and Modern English Poetry.
These are the main types of rhythmic sections made up of two-syllable feet that appear in Middle English and Modern English poetry.
§ 78. The breaking up of these long lines (consisting of two rhythmical sections) into shorter lines is usually effected by rhyme. Thus, if both rhythmical sections of the acatalectic tetrameter are divided by what is called leonine rhyme we get the short four-foot couplet imitated from the French vers octosyllabe, as in the following verses taken from the Middle English A lutel soth sermon (ll. 17–20):
§ 78. The breaking of these long lines (made up of two rhythmic sections) into shorter lines usually happens through rhyme. So, when both rhythmic sections of the acatalectic tetrameter are split by what’s known as leonine rhyme, we end up with the short four-foot couplet adapted from the French vers octosyllabe, as seen in the following lines taken from the Middle English A lutel soth sermon (ll. 17–20):
A Modern English example is—
A Modern English example is—
Another stanza of four lines is formed when the first rhythmical sections of two tetrameters rhyming together are also connected in the corresponding place (viz. before the caesura) by another species of rhyme, called interlaced or crossed rhyme (rime entrelacée):
Another stanza of four lines is created when the first rhythmic sections of two tetrameters that rhyme together are also linked in the same spot (specifically, before the caesura) by another type of rhyme, called interlaced or crossed rhyme (rime entrelacée):
Cf. these verses with an earlier version of the same legend (quoted p. 127), where only the second sections are connected by rhyme.
Cf. these verses with an earlier version of the same legend (quoted p. 127), where only the second sections are connected by rhyme.
A Modern English example is—
A Modern English example is—
Corresponding short trochaic lines result from the acatalectic trochaic tetrameter broken by leonine or inserted rhyme. In Middle English poetry, however, they occur but very seldom in their pure form, i.e. with disyllabic rhymes; in most cases they have monosyllabic or alternate monosyllabic and disyllabic rhymes.
Corresponding short trochaic lines come from the complete trochaic tetrameter interrupted by leonine or added rhyme. In Middle English poetry, though, they appear very rarely in their pure form, meaning with two-syllable rhymes; in most cases, they feature one-syllable rhymes or a mix of one-syllable and two-syllable rhymes.
In like manner the catalectic iambic tetrameter is broken up by inserted rhyme into two short verses, viz. one of four feet with a monosyllabic ending, and one of three feet with a disyllabic ending, as in the following examples:
In the same way, the catalectic iambic tetrameter is split by added rhyme into two short lines, one with four feet ending in a single syllable, and one with three feet ending in two syllables, as shown in the following examples:
A tetrameter brachycatalectic in both sections may also be broken up either by leonine or by inserted rhyme. The following examples illustrate respectively these two methods:
A tetrameter brachycatalectic in both sections can also be interrupted by either leonine or inserted rhyme. The following examples illustrate these two methods, respectively:
In the same manner the verse of four feet mentioned above is broken up into two lines of two feet, and the two-feet line into two lines of one foot, as in the following examples:
In the same way, the four-foot verse mentioned above is divided into two lines of two feet, and the two-foot line is split into two lines of one foot, as shown in the following examples:
For míght is ríht,
Líht is níght,
And fíht is flíht.
Wright’s Political Songs,
p. 254 |
I ám the kníght,
I cóme by níght
The Nutbrowne Mayd,
line 33. |
Finally, the verse used in the tail-rhyme staves (rime couée) must be mentioned. As this verse, however, usually appears only in that form in which it is broken up into three short ones which compose one half of the stave, its origin will be more properly discussed in the second Book, treating of the origin and form of the different stanzas. To begin with, however, it was simply a long line of three rhythmical sections. Indications of this are here and there found in the way in which it is arranged in MSS. and early printed books, e.g. in the first version of the Legend of Alexius,[126] where it is written in triple columns on the large folio pages of the Vernon MS. in the Bodleian Library:
Finally, the verse used in the tail-rhyme staves (rime couée) needs to be mentioned. This verse typically appears only in a form that is divided into three short lines, which make up one half of the stave. Its origin will be more appropriately discussed in the second Book, which focuses on the origins and forms of different stanzas. Initially, though, it was just a long line consisting of three rhythmic sections. Evidence of this can be found in the way it is arranged in manuscripts and early printed books, such as in the first version of the Legend of Alexius,[126] where it is displayed in triple columns on the large folio pages of the Vernon MS. in the Bodleian Library:
§ 80. These are the simplest forms of verse used in Middle English poetry; they can be varied, however, in many ways. First, they are not restricted to monosyllabic or masculine endings or rhymes, but like their French models, admit also of disyllabic or feminine rhymes. Further, the caesura, where it occurs at all, may be masculine as well as feminine. The septenary line, however, in its strict form admits only of monosyllabic caesura and disyllabic ending.
§ 80. These are the simplest forms of verse found in Middle English poetry; however, they can be varied in many ways. First, they are not limited to monosyllabic or masculine endings or rhymes, but like their French counterparts, they also allow for disyllabic or feminine rhymes. Additionally, the caesura, when it appears, can be masculine as well as feminine. The septenary line, though, in its strict form, allows only monosyllabic caesura and disyllabic endings.
Caesura and rhyme are in this respect closely analogous. For the difference between the two kinds of caesura and between the two kinds of rhyme is, that in the case of a masculine caesura or rhyme the pause occurs immediately after the last accented syllable of the rhythmical section, whereas in the case of a feminine caesura or rhyme an unaccented syllable (sometimes even two or more unaccented syllables[127]) follows upon the last accented one before the pause takes place. Combinations of masculine caesura with masculine or with feminine line-endings or rhymes, or the reverse, are, of course, allowed and of frequent occurrence.
Caesura and rhyme are similar in this way. The difference between the two types of caesura and the two types of rhyme is that in the case of a masculine caesura or rhyme, the pause comes right after the last stressed syllable of the rhythmic section, while in the case of a feminine caesura or rhyme, one or more unstressed syllables come after the last stressed one before the pause occurs. Combinations of masculine caesura with either masculine or feminine line endings or rhymes, or vice versa, are, of course, allowed and commonly happen.
We quote in the first place some Middle English and Modern English examples of masculine caesura in the Septenary, in the Alexandrine, in lines of five and of four measures and—for the sake of comparison—in the four-beat verse:
We first provide some examples of masculine caesura in the Septenary, in the Alexandrine, and in lines of five and four measures, as well as—for comparison—in the four-beat verse:
Of the feminine caesura there are two different kinds, viz. the so-called Epic and Lyric caesura.[128] In the Epic caesura in Iambic metre the pause occurs, as in the feminine rhyme, after a supernumerary syllable which follows upon the last accented one of the section the next iambic foot following upon it in the usual manner. In the Lyric caesura in Iambic metre, on the other hand, the pause occurs within a foot, i.e. after the regular unaccented syllable of an iambic foot.
Of the feminine caesura, there are two different kinds: the so-called Epic and Lyric caesura.[128] In the Epic caesura in Iambic meter, the pause happens, like in the feminine rhyme, after an extra syllable that follows the last stressed syllable of the section, with the next iambic foot continuing in the usual way. In the Lyric caesura in Iambic meter, however, the pause occurs within a foot, that is, after the regular unstressed syllable of an iambic foot.
These three different kinds of caesura may be more simply defined as follows: In the ordinary iambic line the caesura occurring after a regular unaccented syllable is a feminine Lyric one (thus: ...⏑–́⏑|–́⏑–́...); the caesura occurring after an accented syllable is a masculine one (thus: ...⏑–́|⏑–́⏑–́...); and that which occurs after a supernumerary unaccented syllable immediately following upon an accented one is a feminine Epic caesura (thus: ...⏑–́⏑|⏑–́⏑–́...).
These three different types of caesura can be defined more simply as follows: In a standard iambic line, the caesura that comes after a regular unaccented syllable is called a feminine Lyric one (like this: ...⏑–́⏑|–́⏑–́...); the caesura that comes after an accented syllable is known as a masculine one (like this: ...⏑–́|⏑–́⏑–́...); and the one that occurs after an extra unaccented syllable right after an accented one is referred to as a feminine Epic caesura (like this: ...⏑–́⏑|⏑–́⏑–́...).
These different kinds of caesura strictly correspond to their French models. The Epic caesura, which to some extent disturbs the regular rhythmic flow of a verse, is by far the least frequent in metres of equal feet.
These different types of caesura closely match their French counterparts. The Epic caesura, which somewhat interrupts the regular rhythmic flow of a verse, is definitely the least common in meters of equal feet.
In the alliterative line, on the other hand, as this metre does not consist of equal feet, the feminine caesura, which is, from a rhythmical point of view, identical with the Epic, is commonly used both in the Old English and in the Middle English period, being produced by the natural quality of the types A, C, D, and by the resolution of the last accented syllable in the types B and D (of the Old English verse). For this reason it also occurs more frequently than the other kinds of caesura in the Modern English four-beat line.
In the alliterative line, the rhythm doesn't have equal feet, so the feminine caesura, which matches the rhythm of the Epic, is often used in both Old English and Middle English. It's created by the natural qualities of types A, C, D, and by breaking down the last accented syllable in types B and D (from Old English verse). Because of this, it appears more often than other types of caesura in the Modern English four-beat line.
This may be illustrated by the following examples:
This can be shown through the following examples:
Epic caesura:
Epic pause:
Lyric caesura:
Lyric break:
All three kinds of caesura will have to be treated systematically later on in connexion with the iambic rhyming verse of five measures, the character of which they affect very much.
All three types of caesura will need to be addressed systematically later in relation to the iambic rhymed verse of five measures, which they significantly influence.
§ 81. The variety caused by the different kinds of caesura in the structure of the metres of equal measures, formed on the principle of a regular alternation of unaccented and accented syllables, is much increased by other causes arising from the different nature of Romanic and Germanic versification. These variations came into existence, partly because the poets, in the early days of the employment of equal-measured rhythms, found it difficult, owing to want of practice, to secure the exact coincidence of the word-accent and the metrical accent, partly because for linguistic or (in the case of the later poets) for artistic reasons they considered it unnecessary to do so. They therefore either simply suffered the discord between the two kinds of accentuation to remain, or, in order to avoid it, permitted themselves licences that did violence either to the rhythmic laws of the verse itself, or to the customary pronunciation of the words as regards the value of syllables (i.e. their being elided or fully sounded) or word-accent.
§ 81. The variety created by the different types of pauses in the structure of equally measured meters, based on a regular alternation of unstressed and stressed syllables, is significantly expanded by other factors stemming from the different nature of Romance and Germanic poetry. These variations arose partly because the poets, in the early days of using equal-measured rhythms, struggled, due to a lack of experience, to achieve an exact alignment of the word accent and the metrical accent. Also, for linguistic or, in the case of later poets, artistic reasons, they deemed it unnecessary to do so. As a result, they either allowed the disharmony between the two types of accentuation to persist or, to avoid it, took liberties that disrupted either the rhythmic rules of the verse itself or the usual pronunciation of the words in terms of syllable value (i.e., whether they were elided or fully pronounced) or word accent.
The changes which the equal-measured rhythms have undergone and still undergo from the causes mentioned thus have relation partly to the rhythmic structure of the verse itself, partly to the value of syllables, and partly to the word-accent. From these three points of view we shall first consider the iambic equal-measured rhythm in general (this being the only species used in Middle English, and the one which in Modern English is of most frequent occurrence and influences all the rest), before we proceed to examine its individual varieties.
The changes that equal-measured rhythms have gone through and continue to go through because of the reasons mentioned are related in part to the rhythmic structure of the verse itself, in part to the value of syllables, and in part to the word accent. From these three perspectives, we will first look at iambic equal-measured rhythm in general (this being the only type used in Middle English and the one that occurs most frequently and influences all the others in Modern English), before we move on to examine its individual varieties.
CHAPTER VI
Verse rhythm
§ 82. As in Greek and Latin metre, so also in the equal-measured rhythms of Middle and Modern English, it is a general law that the beginning or end of a metrical foot should, so far as possible, not coincide with the beginning or end of a word, but should occur in the middle, so that the individual feet may be more closely connected with each other. When this law is not observed, there arises what is technically called diaeresis, that is to say, the breaking up of the line into separate portions, which as a rule renders the verse inharmonious. On this account lines composed entirely of monosyllables are to be avoided. This law is more frequently neglected in Modern English poetry than in that of earlier times, because the rarity of inflexional endings makes its constant observance difficult.
§ 82. Just like in Greek and Latin meter, in the equal-measured rhythms of Middle and Modern English, there's a general rule that the beginning or end of a metrical foot should ideally not line up with the start or end of a word, but should occur in the middle. This helps link the individual feet more closely. When this rule isn’t followed, it creates what’s technically known as diaeresis, meaning the line is broken into separate parts, which usually makes the verse sound discordant. For this reason, lines made up entirely of one-syllable words should be avoided. This rule is more often overlooked in Modern English poetry than in earlier works because the lack of inflectional endings makes it harder to follow consistently.
Even in Middle English poems, however, we often find lines, especially if they are short, which are composed of monosyllabic words only.
Even in Middle English poems, we often come across lines, especially if they are short, that consist only of one-syllable words.
These observations may be illustrated by the following examples:
These observations can be shown through the following examples:
(a) Lines with diaeresis:
Lines with diaeresis:
(b) Lines without diaeresis:
Lines without diaeresis:
§ 83. With regard to modulation, too, the lines with diaeresis differ from those without it. In lines with diaeresis all syllables or words with a rhythmic accent upon them are pronounced with nearly the same stress, while in lines without diaeresis the difference between the accented syllables is more noticeable. The two following examples taken from Milton’s Paradise Lost will serve to illustrate this, the difference of stress being indicated by different numbers under the accented syllables:
§ 83. Regarding modulation, the lines with diaeresis are different from those without it. In lines with diaeresis, all syllables or words that carry a rhythmic accent are pronounced with almost the same emphasis, while in lines without diaeresis, the difference between the accented syllables stands out more. The two examples below from Milton’s Paradise Lost will help demonstrate this, with the difference in stress shown by different numbers under the accented syllables:
As a general rule, the syllables which stand in an arsis are, just because they bear the metrical stress, of course more strongly accented than those which stand in a thesis.
As a general rule, the syllables in an arsis are, since they carry the metrical stress, obviously more heavily accented than those in a thesis.
Occasionally, however, a thesis-syllable may be more strongly accented than an arsis-syllable in the same line which only carries the rhythmical accent, but neither the word-accent nor the logical accent of the sentence.
Occasionally, though, a thesis-syllable might be more strongly stressed than an arsis-syllable in the same line, which only carries the rhythmic stress, but not the word stress or the logical emphasis of the sentence.
Thus in the following line from Paradise Lost—
Thus in the following line from Paradise Lost—
Irreconcileable to our grand Foe,
Unreconciled to our main enemy,
the word grand, although it stands in a thesis, is certainly, because of the rhetorical stress which it has, more strongly accented than the preceding word our or the syllable -ble, both of which have the rhythmical accent. Milton’s blank verse abounds in such resolved discords, as they might be called. In not a few cases, however, they remain unresolved. This occurs chiefly in lines where the short unaccented syllables or unimportant monosyllabic words must be lengthened beyond their natural quantity in order to fit in with the rhythm of the verse, as in the following lines:
the word grand, even though it appears in a thesis, definitely has a stronger emphasis due to the rhetorical stress it carries, more so than the previous word our or the syllable -ble, both of which have the rhythmic stress. Milton’s blank verse is full of these kinds of resolved dissonances, so to speak. However, in several instances, they remain unresolved. This typically happens in lines where the short, unstressed syllables or less important monosyllabic words need to be stretched beyond their natural length to fit with the rhythm of the verse, as in the following lines:
On the other hand long syllables standing in a thesis may be shortened without harshness, e.g. the words brought and our in the following line:
On the other hand, long syllables that are in a thesis can be shortened without sounding harsh. For example, the words brought and our in the following line:
§ 84. With regard to the treatment of the rhythm the Middle English even-beat metres in some respects are considerably different from the Modern English metres, the reason being that the earlier poets, as yet inexperienced in the art of composing in even-beat measures, found it more difficult than Modern English poets to make the rhythmic accent coincide with the word-accent and the syntactic-accent (cf. pp. 126–7, 134).
§ 84. When it comes to rhythm, the Middle English even-beat meters differ in several ways from Modern English meters. The earlier poets, still learning the craft of writing in even-beat measures, found it harder than modern poets to align the rhythmic accent with the word accent and the syntactic accent (see pp. 126–7, 134).
Certain deviations from the ordinary iambic rhythm which partly disturb the agreement of the number of accented and unaccented syllables in a line are more frequent in Middle English than in Modern English poetry. One of these licences is the suppression of the anacrusis or the absence of the first unaccented syllable of the line, or of the second rhythmical section, e.g.
Certain deviations from the usual iambic rhythm that partly disrupt the balance of stressed and unstressed syllables in a line are more common in Middle English than in Modern English poetry. One of these freedoms is the suppression of the anacrusis or the omission of the first unstressed syllable of the line, or of the second rhythmic section, e.g.
While this metrical licence may mostly be attributed to want of technical skill in Middle English poets, it is frequently employed in the Modern English period, as the last example shows, with distinct artistic intention of giving a special emphasis to a particular word. Several Middle English poets, however, make but scant use of this licence, e.g. the author of The Owl and the Nightingale and Gower, while some of them, as Orm, never use it at all.
While this poetic license may mostly be due to a lack of technical skill among Middle English poets, it's often used in the Modern English period, as the last example shows, with a clear artistic intention to give special emphasis to a particular word. However, several Middle English poets make very little use of this license, such as the author of The Owl and the Nightingale and Gower, while some, like Orm, never use it at all.
§ 85. These latter poets, on the other hand, make very frequent use of another kind of rhythmical licence, viz. level stress or hovering accent, as Dr. Gummere calls it; i.e. they subordinate the word-accent or the syntactic accent to the rhythmic accent, and so far violate the principal law of all accentual metre, which demands that those three accents should fall on one and the same syllable.
§ 85. In contrast, these later poets often use a different type of rhythmic freedom, known as level stress or hovering accent, as Dr. Gummere describes it; this means they prioritize the rhythmic accent over the word accent or syntactic accent, which goes against the main rule of all accentual meter, which requires that those three accents should fall on one and the same syllable.
This licence is found chiefly in metres of a certain length, e.g. in the Septenary or in the iambic five-foot line, but not so frequently in shorter metres, as the resulting interruption of the flow of the rhythm is not so perceptible in long as in short lines.
This license is mostly found in meters of a specific length, like in the Septenary or the iambic five-foot line, but it's not as common in shorter meters because the break in the rhythm is less noticeable in longer lines than in shorter ones.
The least sensible irregularity of this kind occurs when the (syntactically) less emphatic of two consecutive monosyllabic words is placed in the arsis, as in the following lines:
The least sensible irregularity of this kind happens when the (syntactically) less emphasized of two consecutive monosyllabic words is placed in the arsis, as in the following lines:
If the accented syllable of a word consisting of two or more syllables is placed in the thesis, and the unaccented one in the arsis, the licence is greater. This is a licence often met with in Middle English poetry, as e.g.:
If the stressed syllable of a word with two or more syllables is placed in the thesis, and the unstressed one in the arsis, there's more freedom. This is a common practice in Middle English poetry, such as:
The effect is still more harsh, if inflexional endings are used in this way, though this does not often occur. The following are examples:
The effect is even harsher if inflectional endings are used this way, though this doesn't happen very often. Here are some examples:
In most cases dissonant rhythmical accentuations of this sort are caused by the rhyme, especially in Middle English poetry, e.g.:
In most cases, the conflicting rhythmic accents like these are caused by the rhyme, especially in Middle English poetry, e.g.:
Cf. also: thing: writýng ib. 325–6; bremstóon: non ib. 629–30; ale-stáke: cake ib. 667–8; goddésse: gesse Chaucer, Knightes Tale, 243–4; herde: answérde ib. 265–6; assemblýnge : thynge Barclay, Ship of Fools, p. 20; similar examples are even to be met with in early Modern English poetry, e.g.: nothíng: bring Sur. 15; bemoaníng: king Wyatt, 206; welfáre: snare ib. 92; goodnéss: accéss ib. 209; manére: chere Surrey, 124, &c.
Cf. also: thing: writing ib. 325–6; brestón: none ib. 629–30; ale-stake: cake ib. 667–8; goddess: gisse Chaucer, Knightes Tale, 243–4; herd: answered ib. 265–6; assembly: thing Barclay, Ship of Fools, p. 20; similar examples are even found in early Modern English poetry, e.g.: nothing: bring Sur. 15; becoming: king Wyatt, 206; welfare: snare ib. 92; goodness: access ib. 209; manner: cheer Surrey, 124, &c.
Sometimes it may be doubtful how a line should be scanned. In some cases of this kind the usage of the poet will decide the question; we know, for instance, that Orm never allows the omission of the first unaccented syllable. Where decisive evidence of this kind is wanting, the verse must be scanned in such a manner as to cause the least rhythmical difficulty. If a compound, or a word containing a syllable with secondary accent, does not fit in with the rhythmical accent, it is to be read, as a rule, with level stress when it occurs in the middle of a line (and, of course, always when it is the rhyme-word). On the other hand, if according to the rhythmical scheme of the line an unaccented syllable would be the bearer of the rhythmical stress, we must in most cases assume suppression of the anacrusis.
Sometimes it's unclear how a line should be scanned. In some cases like this, the poet's usage will settle the matter; for example, we know that Orm never skips the first unaccented syllable. When there's no clear evidence like this, the verse should be scanned in a way that causes the least rhythmic difficulty. If a compound word, or a word with a syllable that has a secondary accent, doesn't match the rhythmic accent, it should usually be read with a level stress when it appears in the middle of a line (and, of course, always when it's the rhyme word). On the other hand, if the rhythmic structure of the line indicates that an unaccented syllable should carry the rhythmic stress, we generally have to assume that the anacrusis is suppressed.
It would not be admissible therefore to scan:
It wouldn't be acceptable, therefore, to scan:
but:
but:
The licence of displacement of accent is an offence against the fundamental law of accentual verse, and therefore becomes more and more rare as the technique of verse becomes more perfect.
The allowance for shifting accent is a violation of the essential rules of accentual verse, and as the technique of verse improves, it becomes increasingly uncommon.
In Middle English it generally appears to be a relic of the ancient alliterative verse (Types C and D) and to be analogous to the similar usage of the contemporary Middle English alliterative line, as e.g.:
In Middle English, it typically seems to be a remnant of the ancient alliterative verse (Types C and D) and resembles the similar use of the contemporary Middle English alliterative line, for example:
Not unfrequently, also, this licence is caused by the rhyme, as in the following examples:
Not infrequently, this license is also caused by the rhyme, as in the following examples:
The same manner of treatment may be found applied to words which end in -lyng, -esse, -nesse, and similar syllables, and which have a secondary accent on the last syllable and the chief accent on the preceding root-syllable.
The same way of handling can be seen with words that end in -lyng, -esse, -nesse, and similar endings, which have a secondary stress on the last syllable and the main stress on the root syllable before it.
In Modern English verse the absence of a thesis between two accented syllables sometimes arises from phonetic conditions, i.e. from the pause which naturally takes place between two words which it is difficult to pronounce successively. This pause supplies the place of the missing thesis, as e.g. in the following lines:
In modern English poetry, the lack of a strong beat between two stressed syllables often comes from phonetic reasons, like the pause that happens naturally between two words that are hard to say one after the other. This pause acts as a substitute for the missing strong beat, as in the following lines:
In other instances the emphasis laid upon a particular word compensates for the absence of the unaccented syllable, especially, if the accented syllable is long: e.g.
In other cases, the emphasis placed on a specific word makes up for the missing unaccented syllable, especially if the accented syllable is long: e.g.
This licence is of frequent occurrence in even-beat measures.
This license often appears in even rhythm.
This occurs in Middle English and in Modern English poetry also. (i) In disyllabic words, commonly those with a first syllable ending with a mute, the second beginning with a liquid, e.g.:
This happens in Middle English and in Modern English poetry as well. (i) In disyllabic words, typically those with a first syllable ending in a mute sound, the second syllable starts with a liquid sound, e.g.:
(ii) In Modern English poetry only in certain monosyllabic words ending in r or re, preceded by a diphthong, as e.g. in our, hour, fire, &c., e.g.:
(ii) In contemporary English poetry, this only applies to certain one-syllable words ending in r or re, that come before a diphthong, such as in our, hour, fire, etc., for example:
This peculiarity will be mentioned again in the next chapter.
This oddity will be brought up again in the next chapter.
§ 88. Another deviation from the regular iambic line is the inversion of the rhythm; i.e. the substitution of a trochee for an iambus at the beginning of a line or after the caesura. The rhythmical effect of this licence has some resemblance to that of the suppression of anacrusis. In both cases the rhythmic accent has to yield to the word-accent. But while in the latter case the whole verse becomes trochaic in consequence of the omission of the first syllable, in the former the trochaic cadence affects one foot only (generally the first), the rest of the verse being of a regular iambic rhythm. Hence the number of syllables in each line is the same as that in all the other regular lines (including those with level stress), whereas verses with suppressed anacrusis may easily be distinguished from the former by their smaller number of syllables. On the other hand, the number of syllables (being the same in both cases) affords no help in distinguishing between change of word-accent and inversion of rhythm. Which of these two kinds of licence is to be recognized in any particular case can be determined only by the position which the abnormal foot occupies in the line. Inversion of rhythm (i.e. the substitution of a trochee for an iambus) occurs, as a rule, only at the beginning of a line or hemistich, where the flow of the rhythm has not begun, so that the introduction of a trochee does not disturb it. If, therefore, the discord between normal word-stress and iambic rhythm occurs in any other position in the line, it must be regarded as a case of level stress.
§ 88. Another variation from the standard iambic line is the inversion of the rhythm; that is, replacing a trochee with an iambus at the start of a line or after a pause. The rhythmic effect of this choice is somewhat similar to the elimination of anacrusis. In both cases, the rhythmic accent has to give way to the word accent. However, while in the latter case the entire verse becomes trochaic due to the missing first syllable, in the former, the trochaic cadence influences just one foot (usually the first), while the rest of the verse maintains a standard iambic rhythm. Therefore, the number of syllables in each line remains consistent with all the other regular lines (including those with level stress), while verses with suppressed anacrusis can easily be recognized by their fewer syllables. On the flip side, the syllable count (being the same in both situations) does not help in distinguishing between a change in word accent and an inversion of rhythm. Determining which of these two variations is present in a specific instance can only be done by looking at where the unusual foot is positioned in the line. Inversion of rhythm (i.e., the substitution of a trochee for an iambus) generally happens only at the start of a line or half-line, where the rhythm hasn’t started flowing yet, so adding a trochee doesn’t disrupt it. Thus, if the mismatch between normal word stress and iambic rhythm happens in any other spot in the line, it should be viewed as a case of level stress.
The following examples will serve to illustrate the difference between these three species of metrical licence:
The following examples will help demonstrate the difference between these three types of metrical license:
Omission of anacrusis:
Omission of anacrusis:
Herknet tó me góde men. Hav. 1. | 7 syll. |
Nórfolk sprúng thee, Lámbeth hólds thee déad. | |
Surrey, p. 62. | 9 ” |
Level stress:
Stress level:
A stálworþí man ín a flok.Hav. 24. | 8 ” |
And Rýpheús that mét thee bý moonlíght. | |
Surrey, p. 126. | 10 ” |
Inversion of rhythm:
Rhythm inversion:
Míchel was súch a kíng to préyse. Hav. 60. | 8 ” |
Míldly doth flów alóng the frúitful fíelds. | |
Surrey, p. 145. | 10 ” |
Shróuding themsélves únder the désert shóre. | |
Surrey, p. 113. | 10 ” |
Inversion of rhythm may be caused in the interior of a rhythmical series only when a particularly strong emphasis is laid upon a word, e.g. to express an antithesis or for similar reasons:
Inversion of rhythm can occur within a rhythmic series only when a particular word is strongly emphasized, for example, to highlight an antithesis or for similar reasons:
We may distinguish between two kinds of inversion of rhythm, viz. (i) natural inversion, and (2) rhetorical inversion. The former is caused by word-accent, the latter by the rhetorical accent, as illustrated by the last examples. The second kind differs very clearly from level stress, as the word in question or the first syllable of it (see the second line of the following quotation) is to be uttered with an unusually strong emphasis, e.g.:
We can differentiate between two types of rhythm inversion: (1) natural inversion and (2) rhetorical inversion. The first is induced by word stress, while the second is influenced by rhetorical stress, as shown in the previous examples. The second type is distinctly different from level stress, since the word in focus or its first syllable (refer to the second line of the following quotation) is spoken with an unusually strong emphasis, for example:
In the second example inversion of rhythm occurs (as it often does) twice over, viz. at the beginning of the verse and after the caesura.
In the second example, an inversion of rhythm happens (as it often does) twice, specifically at the start of the verse and after the pause.
Not unfrequently also two inversions of rhythm follow immediately upon one another, e.g.:
Not infrequently, two inversions of rhythm happen right after each other, e.g.:
Such verses, however, may also be looked upon as instances of the omission of anacrusis combined with epic caesura.
Such verses, however, can also be seen as examples of the omission of anacrusis combined with epic caesura.
This would be the only admissible explanation in verses the first accented word of which is a word which usually does not bear an accent or is not accented rhetorically, e.g.:
This would be the only acceptable explanation in lines where the first stressed word is usually not stressed or is not rhetorically emphasized, for example:
But in a line with an emphasized first word inversion of rhythm is the more probable explanation: e.g.
But in a line with an emphasized first word, an inversion of rhythm is the more likely explanation: e.g.
§ 89. Disyllabic or polysyllabic thesis. Another important deviation from the regular iambic rhythm, which is clearly to be distinguished from the double thesis caused by inversion of rhythm, consists in the use of two or sometimes even more unaccented syllables instead of one to form a regular thesis of a verse. This irregularity, which is almost as common in Modern English as it is in Early English poetry, may occur in any part of the verse. If it occurs in the first foot, it may be called disyllabic or polysyllabic anacrusis, as in the following examples:
§ 89. Disyllabic or polysyllabic thesis. Another significant departure from the standard iambic rhythm, which is clearly different from the double thesis created by rhythm inversion, is the use of two or sometimes even more unstressed syllables instead of one to create a regular thesis in a line of verse. This irregularity, which is nearly as common in Modern English as it is in Early English poetry, can occur at any position in the verse. If it appears in the first foot, it can be referred to as disyllabic or polysyllabic anacrusis, as seen in the following examples:
This metrical licence may occur also immediately after the caesura, e.g.:
This metrical license can also happen right after the pause, e.g.:
It most frequently occurs, however, in the interior of the rhythmical sections, and there it is found in any of the feet, except the last, as will be seen by the following examples:
It usually happens, however, in the middle of the rhythmic sections, and there it can be found in any of the feet, except the last, as shown in the following examples:
§ 90. Unaccented extra syllables are found also before a caesura or at the end of the line. In the former case they constitute what is known as epic caesura, in the latter they form feminine or double endings (if there is only one extra syllable) or tumbling endings (if there are two extra syllables). In both cases this irregularity is softened or excused, so to say, by the pause, except where the accented or masculine ending of the hemistich is required by the very nature of the metre, viz. in the first acatalectic half of the Septenary line. It does, however, not unfrequently occur in some Early Middle English poems written in Septenary metre, e.g. in the Moral Ode and several others, but this may be only owing to want of skill or carelessness on the part of the authors of these poems. The following example taken from the Moral Ode may serve to illustrate this:
§ 90. Unstressed extra syllables can also be found before a pause or at the end of a line. In the first case, they create what’s called an epic caesura, and in the latter, they make feminine or double endings (if there’s just one extra syllable) or tumbling endings (if there are two extra syllables). In both situations, this irregularity is smoothed over or justified, so to speak, by the pause, unless the stressed or masculine ending of the hemistich is needed by the very nature of the meter, specifically in the first complete half of the Septenary line. However, it often appears in some Early Middle English poems written in Septenary meter, such as in the Moral Ode and various others, but this may just be due to a lack of skill or carelessness on the part of the authors of these poems. The following example taken from the Moral Ode may serve to illustrate this:
In the Ormulum irregularities of this kind never occur, a certain proof that Orm thought them metrically inadmissible, and felt that an extra syllable at the end of the first hemistich would disturb the flow of the rhythm.
In the Ormulum, irregularities like these never happen, which shows that Orm considered them unacceptable in terms of meter and believed that an extra syllable at the end of the first half-line would disrupt the rhythm.
Epic caesura certainly is more in place, or at any rate more common, in other kinds of verse, especially in the Middle English Alexandrine formed after the Old French model, e.g.:
Epic caesura is definitely more appropriate, or at least more common, in other types of verse, especially in the Middle English Alexandrine that was shaped by the Old French model, for example:
In the four-foot and five-foot rhymed verse, and especially in blank verse, it is of frequent occurrence:
In four-foot and five-foot rhymed verse, and especially in blank verse, it happens frequently:
The two last quotations are noteworthy because the number of extra syllables after the last accented one is two, three, or even four, a peculiarity which is one of the characteristics of Fletcher’s versification. Other poets, e.g. Shakespeare, preferred feminine endings in some periods of their literary career, so that it is possible to use the proportion of masculine and feminine endings occurring in a play, compared with others of the same poet, as a means of ascertaining the date of its origin.
The last two quotes are important because the number of extra syllables after the last stressed syllable is two, three, or even four, which is a defining feature of Fletcher's verse. Other poets, like Shakespeare, favored feminine endings during certain periods of their careers, so you can analyze the ratio of masculine and feminine endings in a play compared to others by the same poet to help determine when it was written.
It is also to be observed that in certain epochs or kinds of poetry feminine endings are more in favour than in others. In the eighteenth century they are very scarce, whereas they become more frequent again in the nineteenth century. Byron and Moore especially use them copiously in their satirical and humorous poems to produce burlesque effects.
It’s also worth noting that in some periods or types of poetry, feminine endings are more popular than in others. In the eighteenth century, they are quite rare, whereas they become more common again in the nineteenth century. Byron and Moore, in particular, use them generously in their satirical and humorous poems to create comic effects.
The rule that the end of a line must coincide with the end of a sentence, is, from the nature of the case, more difficult to observe strictly—and, consequently, the run-on line is more readily admitted—in verse composed of short lines (which often do not afford room for a complete sentence) than where the lines are longer. In blank verse, also, the run-on line is more freely allowed than in rhymed verse, where the pause at the end of the line is more strongly marked.
The rule that the end of a line must match up with the end of a sentence is, by its very nature, harder to follow strictly—and, as a result, run-on lines are more easily accepted—in poetry made up of short lines (which often don’t leave enough space for a complete sentence) than in longer lines. In blank verse, too, run-on lines are more commonly allowed than in rhymed verse, where the pause at the end of the line is more noticeable.
Generally speaking, enjambement is not allowed to separate two short words that stand in close syntactical connexion and isolated from the rest of the sentence, though examples of this do occur (especially in the older poets) in which an adjective is separated from its substantive:
Generally speaking, enjambment shouldn't split two short words that are closely connected syntactically and isolated from the rest of the sentence, although there are examples of this (especially in older poetry) where an adjective is separated from its noun:
or a verb from its subject or object, formed by a monosyllabic word:
or a verb from its subject or object, made from a one-syllable word:
But if, on the other hand, two closely connected parts of a sentence are each of them long enough to fill up two measures, they may be separated by enjambement:
But if, on the other hand, two closely connected parts of a sentence are each long enough to fill two measures, they can be separated by enjambment:
The admissibility or inadmissibility, however, of run-on lines depends on many different and complicated considerations, for which the reader may be referred to ten Brink, Chaucer’s Sprache und Verskunst, §§ 317–20, and to our own larger work, vol. ii, pp. 59–62.
The acceptance or rejection of run-on lines, however, depends on various complex factors, which readers can explore in ten Brink, Chaucer’s Sprache und Verskunst, §§ 317–20, and in our own more extensive work, vol. ii, pp. 59–62.
In Shakespeare’s versification, and probably also in that of other poets, the more or less frequent use of run-on lines is characteristic of certain periods of their literary career, and is therefore looked upon as a valuable help in determining the date of the different plays (cf. § 91). The largest percentage of run-on lines probably occurs in Milton’s epics.
In Shakespeare's poetry, and likely that of other poets as well, the sporadic use of run-on lines is typical of certain stages in their writing careers, making it a useful tool for dating their various plays (cf. § 91). The highest percentage of run-on lines is probably found in Milton's epic works.
§ 93. The judicious use of run-on lines is often resorted to for the purpose of avoiding monotony. Another metrical licence connected with the line-end, which is adopted for the same purpose, is rhyme-breaking. This occurs chiefly in rhyming couplets, and consists in ending the sentence with the first line of the couplet, instead of continuing it (as is usually done) till the end of the second line. Thus the close connexion of the two lines of the couplet effected by the rhyme is broken up by the logical or syntactic pause occurring at the end of the first line. This is used rarely, and so to say unconsciously, by the earlier Middle English poets, but is frequently applied, and undoubtedly with artistic intention, by Chaucer and his successors. The following passage contains examples both of rhyme-breaking and of the more normal usage:
§ 93. The careful use of run-on lines is often employed to avoid monotony. Another poetic technique related to line endings, which is used for the same reason, is rhyme-breaking. This mainly happens in rhyming couplets and involves ending the sentence with the first line of the couplet, instead of carrying it through (as is typically done) to the end of the second line. Therefore, the close connection of the two lines created by the rhyme is interrupted by the logical or syntactic pause at the end of the first line. This technique is used infrequently, and somewhat instinctively, by earlier Middle English poets, but is often applied, certainly with artistic intent, by Chaucer and his successors. The following passage contains examples of both rhyme-breaking and the more common usage:
Rhyme-breaking may, of course, also take place in other metres, as e.g. in four-foot iambic verses:
Rhyme-breaking can also happen in other metrical forms, like in four-foot iambic verses:
Chapman, in his translation of Homer, often uses it in Septenary verses as well as in five-foot iambic verses. In certain stanzas rhyme-breaking at particular places is a strict rule, as e.g. in the Rhyme-Royal stanza (a b a b . b c c), in the ballade-stanza of eight lines (a b a b . b c b c), and also between the two quatrains of the regular Italian sonnet.
Chapman, in his translation of Homer, often uses it in seven-line verses as well as in five-foot iambic verses. In certain stanzas, breaking the rhyme at specific points is a strict rule, such as in the Rhyme-Royal stanza (a b a b . b c c), in the ballade stanza of eight lines (a b a b . b c b c), and also between the two quatrains of the regular Italian sonnet.
On the other hand this licence is rare in the works of the poets of the eighteenth century who wrote under French influence, and in modern times (especially at the present day) it seems to be rather avoided than intentionally admitted.
On the other hand, this license is rare in the works of eighteenth-century poets who wrote under French influence, and in modern times (especially today), it seems to be more avoided than intentionally included.
The arbitrary use of alliteration in the freer form of the long line has been already discussed.
The random use of alliteration in the more flexible style of the long line has already been covered.
In the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries it is mostly used merely to give a stronger emphasis to those words of the verse which bear the logical and rhythmical accent,[131] but even as early as this we can observe a decided predilection for accumulated alliteration. Sometimes the same alliterative sound is retained through several successive lines. In other instances a fourth alliterating word is admitted in the line (as in the example referred to above). In the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries this striving after accumulation of alliteration was carried to such a length that it became a rule that as many words in the line as possible, whether accented or not, should begin with the same letter. This accounts for King James VI’s metrical rule quoted above (p. 89), that in ‘Tumbling verse’ the line is to be ‘literal’. Even Chaucer, in spite of his well-known hostile attitude to regular alliterative poetry,[132] allowed his diction to be influenced strongly by it, e.g.:
In the 13th and 14th centuries, alliteration was mostly used just to emphasize the words of the verse that carried the logical and rhythmic stress, [131] but even then, we can see a clear preference for piling up alliteration. Sometimes, the same alliterative sound is carried through several consecutive lines. In other cases, a fourth alliterative word is included in the line (as seen in the previous example). During the 15th and 16th centuries, the pursuit of alliteration was taken so far that a rule emerged stating that as many words in a line as possible, whether accented or not, should start with the same letter. This explains King James VI’s metrical guideline quoted above (p. 89), which states that in ‘Tumbling verse,’ the line is to be ‘literal.’ Even Chaucer, despite his well-known opposition to regular alliterative poetry, [132] allowed his language to be heavily influenced by it, for example:
This accumulation of alliterative sounds occurs in the works of many Modern English poets, some of whom, as Peele and Shakespeare, have themselves ridiculed it, but were unable, or were not careful, to avoid it altogether in their own practice.
This build-up of similar sounds happens in the works of many modern English poets. Some of them, like Peele and Shakespeare, even mocked it but were either unable or just not careful enough to completely avoid it in their own writing.
For particulars see Neuengl. Metrik, pp. 68–76, and the following treatises:
For details, see Neuengl. Metrik, pages 68–76, and the following studies:
Die Alliteration im Layamon, by K. Regel; Germanistische Studien, ed. K. Bartsch, Vienna, 1874, i. 172 ff.
The Alliteration in Layamon, by K. Regel; Germanic Studies, ed. K. Bartsch, Vienna, 1874, i. 172 ff.
Die Alliteration bei Chaucer, by Dr. F. Lindner, Jahrbuch f. rom. und engl. Literatur, N. Ser. ii, p. 311 ff.
The Alliteration in Chaucer, by Dr. F. Lindner, Yearbook for Romance and English Literature, N. Ser. ii, p. 311 ff.
Die Alliteration in den Werken Chaucers mit Ausschluss der Canterbury Tales, by E. Petzold. Dissertation, Marburg, 1889.
The alliteration in the works of Chaucer, excluding the Canterbury Tales, by E. Petzold. Dissertation, Marburg, 1889.
Die alliterierenden Sprachformeln in Morris’s Early English Alliterative Poems und im Sir Gawayne and the Green Knight, by Joh. Fuhrmann. Dissertation, Kiel, 1886.
The alliterative phrases in Morris’s Early English Alliterative Poems and in Sir Gawayne and the Green Knight, by Joh. Fuhrmann. Dissertation, Kiel, 1886.
Prof. Dr. K. Seitz, Die Alliteration im Englischen vor und bei Shakspere, and Zur Alliteration im Neuenglischen. Realschulprogramme i-iii, Marne, 1875, Itzehoe, 1883, 1884.
Prof. Dr. K. Seitz, Die Alliteration im Englischen vor und bei Shakspere, and Zur Alliteration im Neuenglischen. Realschulprogramme i-iii, Marne, 1875, Itzehoe, 1883, 1884.
M. Zeuner, Die Alliteration bei neuenglischen Dichtern. Dissertation, Halle, 1880.
M. Zeuner, Die Alliteration bei neuenglischen Dichtern. Dissertation, Halle, 1880.
Die stabreimenden Wortverbindungen in den Dichtungen Walter Scott’s, by Georg Apitz. Dissertation, Breslau, 1893.
The alliterative word connections in the poetry of Walter Scott, by Georg Apitz. Dissertation, Breslau, 1893.
CHAPTER VII
The Metrical Approach to Syllables
§ 95. As the root-syllables of words (leaving out of account the words of Romanic origin) almost universally retain their full syllabic value, whether occurring in arsis or in thesis, they require no notice in this chapter. We therefore confine our remarks to the formative and inflexional syllables, which, though as a rule found only in thesis, admit of being treated metrically in three different ways. (1) A syllable of this kind may retain its full value, so as to form by itself the entire thesis of a foot. (2) It may be slurred, so that it combines with another unaccented syllable to form a thesis. (3) It may lose its syllabic value altogether, its vowel being elided and its consonantal part (if it has any) being attracted to the root-syllable. By the last-mentioned process, as is well known, the number of inflexional syllables has been greatly reduced in Modern as compared with Middle and Old English.
§ 95. Since the root syllables of words (excluding those of Romanic origin) generally keep their full syllabic value, whether they appear in arsis or thesis, we won’t discuss them here. Instead, we’ll focus on the formative and inflectional syllables, which, although typically found only in thesis, can be treated metrically in three different ways. (1) A syllable of this type may keep its full value, allowing it to form the entire thesis of a foot by itself. (2) It may be slurred, combining with another unstressed syllable to create a thesis. (3) It may lose its syllabic value completely, with its vowel being dropped and its consonantal part (if it has one) merging with the root syllable. This last process has significantly reduced the number of inflectional syllables in Modern English compared to Middle and Old English.
The inflexional endings which in Middle English (we are here considering chiefly the language of Chaucer) have ordinarily the value of independent syllables are the following:—
The inflectional endings that in Middle English (we are mainly looking at the language of Chaucer here) usually function as independent syllables are the following:—
-es (-is, -us) in the gen. sing. and the plur. of the substantive, and in certain adverbs.
-es (-is, -us) in the genitive singular and the plural of the noun, and in some adverbs.
-en in the nom. plur. of some substantives of the weak declension, in certain prepositions, in the infinitive, in the strong past participle, in the plur. of the pres. of strong verbs, and in the pret. plur. of all verbs.
-en in the nominative plural of some nouns with weak declension, in certain prepositions, in the infinitive form, in the strong past participle, in the plural of the present tense of strong verbs, and in the past plural of all verbs.
-er in the comparative.
-er in the comparative.
-est in the superlative and the 2nd person pres.
-est in the superlative and the 2nd person present.
-eth (-ith) in the 3rd person pres. sing., in the plur. pres. and plur. imperative.
-eth (-ith) in the 3rd person present singular, in the plural present and plural imperative.
-ed (-id, -ud) in the past participles of weak verbs, and often in the 1st and 3rd person sing. and the whole plur. pret. of the weak verbs with short root-syllable, instead of the fuller endings -ede, -eden, which also occur; in weak verbs with long root-syllable the endings are -de, -den.
-ed (-id, -ud) in the past participles of weak verbs, and often in the 1st and 3rd person singular and the whole plural past tense of weak verbs with a short root syllable, instead of the fuller endings -ede, -eden, which also occur; in weak verbs with a long root syllable, the endings are -de, -den.
-edest, or -dest in the 2nd pers. sing. pret. of the weak verb.
-edest, or -dest in the 2nd person singular past tense of the weak verb.
-e in a certain number of inflexional forms of the verb (as e.g. in the inf. and in the past part. of strong verbs, where n is dropped), and of the substantive and adjective, and as an ending of Romanic words, &c.
-e in several inflected forms of the verb (for example, in the infinitive and in the past participle of strong verbs, where n is omitted), as well as in nouns and adjectives, and as a suffix in Romance words, etc.
Of all these endings only the comparative and superlative suffixes -er, -est are preserved in an unreduced state in Modern English. The final -e has disappeared in pronunciation (with some exceptions occurring in Early Modern English). The important suffixes -en, -es, -ed, -est (2nd pers. sing.), -eth (for which -s, the northern ending, instead of -es, is commonly substituted) have been contracted through syncope so as to form one syllable with the root, except where the nature of the final consonant of the stem prevents syncope, e.g. in -es and -est after sibilants, in -ed after dentals, in -en after v, s, t, d, k (as in houses, ended, risen, written, hidden, broken, driven). As, however, these are always full syllables they may here be disregarded. The ending -edest has been shortened into -edst.
Of all these endings, only the comparative and superlative suffixes -er and -est remain unchanged in Modern English. The final -e is no longer pronounced (with some exceptions in Early Modern English). The important suffixes -en, -es, -ed, -est (2nd person singular), and -eth (where -s, the northern ending, is often used instead of -es) have been shortened through syncope to form one syllable with the root, except when the last consonant of the stem prevents syncope, such as with -es and -est after sibilants, -ed after dental consonants, and -en after v, s, t, d, k (like in houses, ended, risen, written, hidden, broken, driven). However, since these are always full syllables, they can be ignored here. The ending -edest has been shortened to -edst.
It is to be observed that the syncopation of the vowel (e) of the inflexional endings was not so nearly universal in Early Modern English as it is at present; and further, that it is still much less prevalent in poetry than in prose, because the poets for metrical reasons often preserve the fuller endings when in ordinary speech they are no longer used.[133] In examining the metrical treatment of the Early English inflexional endings, we shall therefore have occasion to consider the usage of the present day, notwithstanding the fact that some of these endings are obsolete in modern prose.
It should be noted that the shortening of the vowel (e) in inflectional endings wasn't as widespread in Early Modern English as it is today. Furthermore, it's still much less common in poetry than in prose because poets often keep the longer endings for metrical reasons, even though they're no longer used in everyday speech.[133] When we look at how the Early English inflectional endings are handled in meters, we'll also need to consider current usage, despite the fact that some of these endings are no longer used in modern prose.
The chief difference between Early and Modern English with regard to the treatment of the inflexions is that in Early English poetry the full pronunciation is the rule—in accordance with the practice in ordinary speech--and the syncopation of the vowel (e, rarely i or u) is the exception; while in Modern English it is the shortened pronunciation that is normal, the full syllabic form being used only exceptionally as a poetic licence.
The main difference between Early and Modern English in how inflections are handled is that in Early English poetry, full pronunciation is the norm—just like in regular speech—while the shortening of vowels (e, and occasionally i or u) is the exception. In contrast, Modern English typically uses the shortened pronunciation, with the full syllabic form appearing only occasionally as a poetic license.
1. If each of the two last syllables of a trisyllabic word has an unaccented e, one of them is generally elided or slurred over under the influence of the rhythmical accent. Thus the past tense singular of the weak verbs clepede, werede, makede, lovede may be scanned either clepte, werde, made, lovde, or cleped, wered, maked, loved. Just in the same way the plural forms clepeden, makeden, &c., may be read either clepten, maden, &c., or cleped, maked, &c.; likewise the plural endings of nouns faderes, hevenes may be pronounced fadres, hevnes or faders, hevens. In Early Middle English, however, and also in the language of Chaucer, exceptions to this rule are found, trisyllabic scansion occurring chiefly in the plur. pret., e.g.:
1. If the last two syllables of a three-syllable word have an unaccented e, one of them is usually skipped or blended due to the rhythmic accent. So, the past tense singular of the weak verbs clepede, werede, makede, lovede can be read as either clepte, werde, made, lovde, or cleped, wered, maked, loved. Similarly, the plural forms clepeden, makeden, etc., can be pronounced as either clepten, maden, etc., or cleped, maked, etc.; and the plural endings of nouns like faderes, hevenes may be spoken as fadres, hevnes, or faders, hevens. However, in Early Middle English, as well as in Chaucer's language, there are exceptions to this rule, with three-syllable scansion primarily occurring in the plural past tense, e.g.:
The e following upon an unaccented syllable which is capable of receiving the accent, whether in a word of Teutonic or Romanic origin, is commonly mute. E.g. banere, manere, lovere, ladyes, housbondes, thousandes are generally to be pronounced in verse (as, indeed, they were probably pronounced in prose) as, baner, maner, lover, ladys, housbonds, thousands. But this e, on the other hand, not unfrequently remains syllabic, especially in the Ormulum, where it is dropped only before a vowel or h. E.g. cneolénn meoklík(e) annd lútenn 11392, meocnéss(e) is þrínne kíness 10699, Forr án godnéss(e) uss háveþþ dón 185. Before a consonant or at the end of a line, however, it is always sounded: Ennglísshe ménn to láre 279, God wórd and gód tiþénnde 158, forrþí birrþ áll Cristéne fóllc 303. Goddspélless hállȝhe láre 14, 42, 54, þa Góddspelléss neh álle 30. Other examples are: And þó þet wéren gítserés Moral Ode, MS. D. l. 269; For thóusandés his hóndes máden dýe Chauc. Troil. v, 1816; enlúminéd id. A B C 73.
The e that comes after an unaccented syllable able to receive the accent, whether in a word of Germanic or Romance origin, is usually silent. For example, banere, manere, lovere, ladyes, housbondes, thousandes are typically pronounced in verse (as they likely were in prose) as baner, maner, lover, ladys, housbonds, thousands. However, this e often remains pronounced, especially in the Ormulum, where it is dropped only before a vowel or h. For instance, cneolénn meoklík(e) annd lútenn 11392, meocnéss(e) is þrínne kíness 10699, Forr án godnéss(e) uss háveþþ dón 185. Before a consonant or at the end of a line, it is always pronounced: Ennglísshe ménn to láre 279, God wórd and gód tiþénnde 158, forrþí birrþ áll Cristéne fóllc 303. Goddspélless hállȝhe láre 14, 42, 54, þa Góddspelléss neh álle 30. Other examples include: And þó þet wéren gítserés Moral Ode, MS. D. l. 269; For thóusandés his hóndes máden dýe Chauc. Troil. v, 1816; enlúminéd id. A B C 73.
In words of four syllables a final e which follows upon an unaccented syllable with a secondary accent may at pleasure either become mute or be fully pronounced. So words like óutrydère, sóudanèsse, émperòures, árgumèntes may be read either as three or four syllables. Examples of e sounded: Bifórr þe Rómanísshe kíng Orm. 6902; Annd síkerrlíke trówwenn ib. 11412; þurrh hállȝhe góddspellwríhhtess ib. 160; Till híse lérninngcníhhtess ib. 235; Annd þúrrh þin góddcunndnésse ib. 11358; An Gódd all únntodǽledd ib. 11518; I glúternésse fállenn ib. 11636; þurrh flǽshes únntrummnésse ib. 11938; in stránge ráketéȝe Moral Ode, 281; a thíng(e) unstédeféste ib. 319; bifóre héovenkínge ib. 352, &c. Examples of e mute: And þá, þe úntreownéss(e) dide þán Moral Ode, 267; þéosternéss(e) and éie ib. 279. Orm has it only before vowels or h: Forr són se glúternéss(e) iss dǽd 11663, &c.
In four-syllable words, a final e that comes after an unstressed syllable with a secondary stress can either be silent or pronounced. So, words like óutrydère, sóudanèsse, émperòures, árgumèntes can be read as either three or four syllables. Examples with a pronounced e: Bifórr þe Rómanísshe kíng Orm. 6902; Annd síkerrlíke trówwenn ib. 11412; þurrh hállȝhe góddspellwríhhtess ib. 160; Till híse lérninngcníhhtess ib. 235; Annd þúrrh þin góddcunndnésse ib. 11358; An Gódd all únntodǽledd ib. 11518; I glúternésseFallback ib. 11636; þurrh flǽshes únntrummnésse ib. 11938; in stránge ráketéȝe Moral Ode, 281; a thíng(e) unstédeféste ib. 319; bifóre héovenkínge ib. 352, &c. Examples with a silent e: And þá, þe úntreownéss(e) dide þán Moral Ode, 267; þéosternéss(e) and éie ib. 279. Orm only has it before vowels or h: Forr són se glúternéss(e) iss dǽd 11663, &c.
-es (gen. sing., nom. plur., and adverbial) is in disyllables (a) as a rule treated as a full syllable, e.g. Ac þét we dóþ for gódes lúue Moral Ode 56; from éuery shíres énde Chauc. Prol. 15; And élles cértain wére thei to blame ib. 375; (b) seldom syncopated or slurred over, e.g. Ure álre hláuerd fór his þrélles Moral Ode, 189; He mákede físses in þére sé ib. 83; I sáugh his sléves purfíled Chauc. Prol. 193; The ármes of dáun Arcíte id. Kn. Tale, 2033; Or élles it wás id. Sq. Tale, 209.
-es (gen. sing., nom. plur., and adverbial) is in disyllables (a) usually treated as a full syllable, e.g. And this we do for God’s love Moral Ode 56; from every shire’s end Chauc. Prol. 15; And otherwise they would definitely be to blame ib. 375; (b) rarely syncopated or slurred, e.g. Our all-powerful Lord for his servants Moral Ode, 189; He made fish in the sea ib. 83; I saw his sleeves trimmed Chauc. Prol. 193; The arms of Sir Arcite id. Kn. Tale, 2033; Or else it was id. Sq. Tale, 209.
In trisyllables the reverse is the case; only Orm, who always, as is well known, carefully counts his syllables, treats the ending as a full syllable. Otherwise syncopation or slurring over of the last syllable is the rule in these words: a sómeres dáy Chauc. Sq. Tale, 64; Gréyhoundes he hádde id. Prol. 190; hóusbondes át that tóun id. Kn. Tale, 78; the távernes wél id. Prol. 240.
In trisyllables, it's the opposite; only Orm, who is known for meticulously counting his syllables, treats the ending as a complete syllable. Otherwise, the rule for these words is to syncopate or slur over the last syllable: a sómeres dáy Chauc. Sq. Tale, 64; Gréyhoundes he hádde id. Prol. 190; hóusbondes át that tóun id. Kn. Tale, 78; the távernes wél id. Prol. 240.
In Modern English in all these cases elision of the -e is the rule, those, of course, excepted in which the -e is still sounded at the present day (after sibilants, dentals, &c.) and which therefore we need not discuss here. The use of -es as a full syllable is otherwise quite exceptional, chiefly occurring in the Early Modern English poets, who use the sounded e, occasionally, to gain an unaccented syllable, e.g.:
In modern English, dropping the -e is standard in all these cases, except for those where the -e is still pronounced today (like after sibilants, dentals, etc.), which we won't cover here. The use of -es as a full syllable is pretty rare, mostly showing up in Early Modern English poetry, where poets sometimes pronounce the e to create an unstressed syllable, for example:
The usual sound of these words is night’s, love’s, world’s, limbs, eyes, and so in all similar cases.
The typical sound of these words is night’s, love’s, world’s, limbs, eyes, and so on in all similar cases.
The syncopation of the -e in the adverbial -es is indicated, as is well known, by the spelling, in certain cases: e.g. in else, hence, thence, whence (instead of the Middle English forms elles, hennes, &c.); but even in words where it is preserved in writing, as e.g. in whiles, unawares, it has become mute and has, as a rule, no metrical value in Modern English poetry. The archaic certes, however, is still always treated as a disyllabic, e.g.
The syncopation of the -e in the adverbial -es is indicated, as is well known, by the spelling in certain cases: for example, in else, hence, thence, and whence (instead of the Middle English forms elles, hennes, etc.); but even in words where it is preserved in writing, such as in whiles and unawares, it has become silent and usually has no metrical value in Modern English poetry. The archaic certes, however, is still always treated as a two-syllable word, e.g.
§ 98. The ending -en (plur. nom. of nouns; prepositions; infinitive; strong past part.; plur. pres. and pret. of verbs) is in Middle English (a) commonly treated as a full syllable during the first period, and later on mostly, although not always, to avoid hiatus, before vowels and h, e.g. His éyen stépe Chauc. Prol. 201; Bifórenn Críst allmáhhtig Gódd Orm. 175; Befóren ánd behýnde Alexius, ii. 393; abóven álle nációuns Chauc. Prol. 53; þú schalt béren hím þis ríng Floris and Blanch. 547; Fór to délen with no swích poráille Chauc. Prol. 247; bifrórenn Orm. 13856; forlórenn ib. 1395; Sche wás arísen ánd al rédy díght Chauc. Kn. T. 183; Hir hósen wéren óf fyn scárlet reed id. Prol. 456; For thís ye knówen álso wél as I ib. 730; Swa þátt teȝȝ shúlenn wúrrþen þǽr Orm. 11867; þatt háffdenn cwémmd himm í þiss líf ib. 210; Ál þet wé misdíden hére Moral Ode, 99; (b) syncopated or slurred, especially in later times, after the n has been dropped already in prepositions and verbal inflexions, e.g. His póre féren he delde Alexius, ii. 210; Hálles and bóures, óxen and plóugh ib. 12; Bifórr þe Rómanísshe kíng (instead of biforenn) Orm. 6902; Hastów had fléen al nýght Chauc. Manc. Prol. 17; She bóthe hir yónge chíldren untó hir cálleþ id. Cl. T. 1081; is bórn: þat wenten hím bifórn id. Man of Lawes T. 995–7; withínne a lítel whýle id. Sq. T. 590; And únderfóngen his kínedóm Flor. and Blanch. 1264; þei máde sówen in þát cité Alexius, i. 577; Bíddeþ his mén cómen him nére ib. 134; Hórn: i-bórn King Horn, 137–8; forlóren: Hórn ib. 479–80; Was rísen and rómede Chauc. Kn. T. 207; my líef is fáren on lónde id. N. Pr. T. 59; And fórth we ríden a lítel móre than páas id. Prol. 825; þei drýven him ófte tó skornínge Alexius, i. 308; þei rísen alle úp with blíþe chére ib. 367; þei cásten upón his cróun ib. 312; And wíssheden þat hé were déd Alexius, ii. 335, &c.
§ 98. The ending -en (plural nominative of nouns; prepositions; infinitive; strong past participle; plural present and past of verbs) is in Middle English (a) often considered a full syllable during the early period, and later primarily, though not always, to avoid hiatus before vowels and h, e.g. His eyes step Chauc. Prol. 201; Before Christ Almighty God Orm. 175; Before and behind Alexius, ii. 393; Above all nations Chauc. Prol. 53; you shall bear him this ring Floris and Blanch. 547; For to deal with no such trouble Chauc. Prol. 247; before Orm. 13856; forgotten ib. 1395; She was risen and all ready dight Chauc. Kn. T. 183; Her hose were of fine scarlet red id. Prol. 456; For this you know just as well as I ib. 730; So that they shall become there Orm. 11867; that had come to him in this life ib. 210; All that we misdid here Moral Ode, 99; (b) syncopated or slurred, especially in later times, after the n has already been dropped in prepositions and verbal inflections, e.g. His poor friends he dealt Alexius, ii. 210; Halls and boughs, oxen and plough ib. 12; Before the Roman king (instead of biforenn) Orm. 6902; Have you had flown all night Chauc. Manc. Prol. 17; She called both her young children id. Cl. T. 1081; is born: that went to him before id. Man of Lawes T. 995–7; within a little while id. Sq. T. 590; And received his kingdom Flor. and Blanch. 1264; they made sound in that city Alexius, i. 577; They bid his men come him near ib. 134; Horn: born King Horn, 137–8; forgotten: Horn ib. 479–80; Was risen and roamed Chauc. Kn. T. 207; my life is faring on land id. N. Pr. T. 59; And forth we ride a little more than pass id. Prol. 825; they drove him often to scorn Alexius, i. 308; they all rise up with cheerful faces ib. 367; they cast upon his crown ib. 312; And wished that he were dead Alexius, ii. 335, &c.
In Modern English this ending is much more rare, and is hardly ever used as a full syllable of the verse. The plural ending -en of the substantive occurs now and then in Wyatt’s and Surrey’s verse, as e.g. in éyen instead of éyes, both in rhyme, e.g. éyen: míne Sur. 14, and in the interior of the line, ib. 126, 128; Wyatt 8, 17, &c.
In modern English, this ending is much rarer and is hardly ever used as a full syllable in verse. The plural ending -en of the noun appears occasionally in Wyatt’s and Surrey’s work, such as éyen instead of éyes, both in rhyme, for example, éyen: míne Sur. 14, and in the middle of the line, ib. 126, 128; Wyatt 8, 17, &c.
Prepositions ending in -en are scarcely ever used now; sometimes the archaic withóuten is to be met with in some Early Modern English poets, and then, of course, as a trisyllable: withóuten dréad Sur. 95; withóuten énd Spenser, F. Q. II. ix. 58. The obsolete infinitives in -en may also be found sometimes in the writings of the same and other early Modern English poets: in váyn: sáyen Sur. 31; his flócke to víewën wíde Spenser, F. Q. I. i. 23; to kíllën bád Shak. Pericles, II. Prol. 20. Likewise certain antiquated plural forms of the verb in -en: dischárgën cléan Sur. 30; fen: lífedën Spenser, F. Q. II. x. 7; and wáxën ín their mírth Shak. M. N. Dr. II. i. 56.
Prepositions ending in -en are hardly ever used today; sometimes the old-fashioned withóuten can be found in some Early Modern English poets, and then, of course, as a trisyllable: withóuten dréad Sur. 95; withóuten énd Spenser, F. Q. II. ix. 58. The outdated infinitives in -en can also be seen occasionally in the works of the same and other early Modern English poets: in váyn: sáyen Sur. 31; his flócke to víewën wíde Spenser, F. Q. I. i. 23; to kíllën bád Shak. Pericles, II. Prol. 20. Similarly, there are certain outdated plural forms of the verb in -en: dischárgën cléan Sur. 30; fen: lífedën Spenser, F. Q. II. x. 7; and wáxën ín their mírth Shak. M. N. Dr. II. i. 56.
It is only the -en of the past participle that is at all often after certain consonants treated as a full syllable, e.g. the frózen héart Sur. 1; gótten out ib. 10; the strícken déer ib. 54; hast táken páin Wyatt, 99. Here the full forms are preserved in the ordinary language. It is only exceptionally that participles that have undergone shortening, as come, reassume their n and regain an extra syllable, e.g. tíll he cómën háth West (Poets, ix. 484). Contracted forms like grown, known, drawn, always remain monosyllabic, even in verse, and words like fallen, swollen, which are normally disyllabic, are often contracted in poetry: as grown Sur. 13; known ib. 45; swoln ib. 8; befallen ib. 26; drawn Wyatt, 160. Complete contraction is effected either by elision of the final consonant of the stem, e.g. ta’en (instead of taken) Sur. 44, or by slurring of the ending, e.g. hath gíven a pláce Sur. 108; is béaten with wínd and stórm ib. 157, &c.
It’s only the -en of the past participle that is often treated as a full syllable after certain consonants, e.g. the frózen héart Sur. 1; gótten out ib. 10; the strícken déer ib. 54; hast táken páin Wyatt, 99. Here, the full forms are kept in everyday language. It’s only rarely that participles that have been shortened, like come, take back their n and regain an extra syllable, e.g. tíll he cómën háth West (Poets, ix. 484). Contracted forms like grown, known, drawn always stay monosyllabic, even in verse, and words like fallen, swollen, which are usually two syllables, are often shortened in poetry: as grown Sur. 13; known ib. 45; swoln ib. 8; befallen ib. 26; drawn Wyatt, 160. Complete contraction happens either by dropping the final consonant of the stem, e.g. ta’en (instead of taken) Sur. 44, or by slurring the ending, e.g. hath gíven a pláce Sur. 108; is béaten with wínd and stórm ib. 157, &c.
These endings are treated, moreover, as full syllables in the unaccented rhymes Hǽngest: fǽirest Layamon, 13889–90; Hǽngest: héndest ib. 13934–5. If an inflexional -e is added to such words, so as to make them trisyllables, it is commonly elided or apocopated, e.g. Fór he ís the fáireste mán Horn, 787; hire grétteste óoth Chauc. Prol. 120; The férreste in his párisshe ib. 494. Slurring or syncopation takes place in the following examples, Sche móst wiþ hím no lénger abíde Sir Orfeo, line 328; No lénger to héle óf he bráke Alexius, ii. 127; more rarely in the superlative, Annd állre láttst he wúndedd wáss Orm. 11779, 11797; Was thóu not fárist of ángels álle? Towneley Myst. p. 4.
These endings are also considered complete syllables in the unaccented rhymes Hǽngest: fǽirest Layamon, 13889–90; Hǽngest: héndest ib. 13934–5. If an inflectional -e is added to these words to make them trisyllables, it is usually dropped or shortened, for example, Fór he ís the fáireste mán Horn, 787; hire grétteste óoth Chauc. Prol. 120; The férreste in his párisshe ib. 494. Slurring or syncopation occurs in the following examples, Sche móst wiþ hím no lénger abíde Sir Orfeo, line 328; No lénger to héle óf he bráke Alexius, ii. 127; and more rarely in the superlative, Annd állre láttst he wúndedd wáss Orm. 11779, 11797; Was thóu not fárist of ángels álle? Towneley Myst. p. 4.
In Modern English these endings are treated similarly. The comparative-ending -er is mostly syllabic on account of the phonetic nature of the final r, and even if slurred, it does not entirely lose its syllabic character, e.g.:
In Modern English, these endings are treated in a similar way. The comparative ending -er mostly has a syllabic quality due to the phonetic nature of the final r, and even if it’s slurred, it still retains some of its syllabic character, for example:
The ending of the superlative -est, too, is commonly syllabic, e.g.
The ending of the superlative -est is also usually syllabic, for example.
Nevertheless many examples of syncopation are found, chiefly in the writings of the Early Modern English poets: e.g. the méekest of mínd Sur. 77; the swéet’st compánions Shak. Cymb. V. v. 349; the stérn’st good níght id. Macb. II. ii. 4. Such forms are often used by Ben Jonson.
Nevertheless, many examples of syncopation can be found, mainly in the writings of Early Modern English poets: for instance, the méekest of mínd Sur. 77; the swéet’st compánions Shak. Cymb. V. v. 349; the stérn’st good níght id. Macb. II. ii. 4. Such forms are often used by Ben Jonson.
§ 100. The ending -est (2nd pers. pres. sing. ind. and pret. sing. of weak verbs) is in Middle English generally syllabic: Annd séȝȝest swíllc annd swíllc was þú Orm. 1512; Annd ȝíff þu féȝesst þréo wiþ þréo, þa fíndesst tú þær séxe id. 11523–4; That bróughtest Tróye Chauc. N. Pr. T. 408; Thow wálkest nów id. Kn. T.; þat gód þat þóu þénkest do mé Alexius, ii. 304; Hou mýȝtest þóu þus lónge wóne Alexius, i. 445; And wóldest névere ben aknówe ib. 461.
§ 100. The ending -est (2nd person present singular indicative and past singular of weak verbs) is generally syllabic in Middle English: And you sayest such and such was you Orm. 1512; And if you fetch three with three, then you will find six there id. 11523–4; That brought Troy Chauc. N. Pr. T. 408; You walk now id. Kn. T.; that good that you think to do me Alexius, ii. 304; How might you thus long dwell Alexius, i. 445; And wouldst never be acknowledged ib. 461.
Frequently, however, syncopation or slurring also occurs: ȝiff þú seȝȝst tátt tu lúfesst Gódd Orm. 5188; Þu wénest þat éch song béo grislích Owl and Night. 315; Þu schríchest and ȝóllest to þíne fére ib. 223; Thou knówest him well Chauc. Blaunche, 137; Trówest thou? by our Lórd, I wíll thee sáy ib. 551; þou mýȝtest have bén a grét lordíng Alexius, i. 511.
Frequently, however, syncopation or slurring also happens: If you see that you love God Orm. 5188; You think that every song is grim Owl and Night. 315; You scream and yell to your friends ib. 223; You know him well Chauc. Blaunche, 137; Do you trust? By our Lord, I'll tell you ib. 551; You might have been a great lord Alexius, i. 511.
In Modern English syncopation is extremely common, e.g. Now knówest thou áll Sur. 27; That mákest but gáme Wyatt, 30, &c.; but the full syllabic pronunciation (in accordance with the modern prose usage) is also frequent, both in the poetry of the sixteenth century, e.g. What frámëst thóu Sur. 158; And lóokëst tó commánd Shak. H. VI. I. i. 38; and in that of recent times, e.g.:
In modern English, syncopation is very common, for example, Now you know all Sur. 27; That you make just a game Wyatt, 30, etc.; but the full syllabic pronunciation (following modern prose usage) is also common, both in sixteenth-century poetry, e.g. What do you frame Sur. 158; And you look to command Shak. H. VI. I. i. 38; and in more recent compositions, e.g.:
§ 101. The ending -eth, in the North -es, -is (3rd pers. sing. pres., plur. pres., and 3rd pers. sing. imperative), is in most cases syllabic in Middle English, especially before the fifteenth century; e.g. It túrrneþþ hémm till sínne Orm. 150; þat spékeþþ óff þe déofell ib. 11944; þat ǽfre annd ǽfre stándeþþ ínn ib. 2617; þánne hi cumeþ éft Moral Ode, 236; Hi wálkeþ éure ib. 239; So príkeþ hem natúre Chauc. Prol. 11; Cómeþ álle nów to mé Alexius, ii. 337; Ánd a-fóngeþ ȝóure méde ib. 375.
§ 101. The ending -eth, in the North -es, -is (3rd person singular present, plural present, and 3rd person singular imperative), is often syllabic in Middle English, especially before the fifteenth century; for example, It túrrneþþ hémm till sínne Orm. 150; þat spékeþþ óff þe déofell ib. 11944; þat ǽfre annd ǽfre stándeþþ ínn ib. 2617; þánne hi cumeþ éft Moral Ode, 236; Hi wálkeþ éure ib. 239; So príkeþ hem natúre Chauc. Prol. 11; Cómeþ álle nów to mé Alexius, ii. 337; Ánd a-fóngeþ ȝóure méde ib. 375.
But already in the earlier portion of this epoch of the language slurring or syncopation is often to be met with, and it became gradually more and more frequent. Boc séȝȝþ þe bírrþ wel ȝémenn þé Orm. 11373, 11981; Annd áȝȝ afftérr þe góddspell stánnt ib. 33; And thínkeþ, here cómeþ my mórtel énemý Chauc. Kn. T. 785; Comeþ nér, quoth hé id. Prol. 839; þat háveþ traváille Alexius, i. 350; Thai háldis this lánd agáyne resóune Barbour’s Bruce, i. 488.
But even in the earlier part of this period of the language, slurring or syncopation often occurs, and it gradually became more and more common. Boc séȝȝþ þe bírrþ wel ȝémenn þé Orm. 11373, 11981; Annd áȝȝ afftérr þe góddspell stánnt ib. 33; And thínkeþ, here cómeþ my mórtel énemý Chauc. Kn. T. 785; Comeþ nér, quoth hé id. Prol. 839; þat háveþ traváille Alexius, i. 350; Thai háldis this lánd agáyne resóune Barbour’s Bruce, i. 488.
In Modern English the endings -eth and -es (’s) were at first used promiscuously; later -eth is employed, if a full syllable is required, -es (’s) if syncopation is intended; but this rule is not strictly observed.
In modern English, the endings -eth and -es (’s) were initially used interchangeably; later on, -eth is used when a full syllable is needed, and -es (’s) is used when shortening is meant; however, this rule isn't always followed.
The dropping of e on the whole is the more usual: e.g. begins Sur. 1; seems ib. 2; learns Wyatt, 1; also if written -eth: On hím that lóveth not mé Wyatt, 57; that séeth the héavens Sur. 2. Treatment as a full syllable is less usual: But áll too láte Love léarnëth mé Sur. 5; Lóve that lívëth and réignëth ín my thóught Sur. 12. Shakespeare and his contemporaries still use it somewhat frequently (cf. Hertzberg in Shakspeare-Jahrb. xiii, pp. 255–7), and occasional instances are found even in later poets, as for instance in Keats, who rhymes: death: ouershádowéth, p. 336; Chr. Rossetti, déath: fashionéth p. 28, ii. ll. 5–6
The dropping of e is generally more common: e.g. begins Sur. 1; seems ib. 2; learns Wyatt, 1; also when written as -eth: On hím that lóveth not mé Wyatt, 57; that séeth the héavens Sur. 2. Treating it as a full syllable is less common: But áll too láte Love léarnëth mé Sur. 5; Lóve that lívëth and réignëth ín my thóught Sur. 12. Shakespeare and his contemporaries still use it somewhat frequently (cf. Hertzberg in Shakspeare-Jahrb. xiii, pp. 255–7), and occasional examples are found even in later poets, such as Keats, who rhymes: death: ouershádowéth, p. 336; Chr. Rossetti, déath: fashionéth p. 28, ii. ll. 5–6
§ 102. The ending -ed, in the North -id, -it (past part. of weak verbs), is, as a rule, syllabic in Middle English: e.g. Min Dríhhtin háfeþþ lénedd Orm. 16; Annd ícc itt háfe fórþedd té ib. 25; Annd tǽrfore háfe icc túrrnedd ítt ib. 129; ipróved ófte síthes Chauc. Prol. 485; hadde swówned wíth a dédly chére ib. Kn. T. 55; Nóu is Álex dwélled þóre Alexius, i. 121; Lóverd, iþánked bé þou áy ib. 157; A wéile gret quhíle thar duellyt hé Barbour, Bruce, i. 359.
§ 102. The ending -ed, in the North -id, -it (past part. of weak verbs), is usually syllabic in Middle English: for example, My Lord has lent Orm. 16; And I have gone forth to ib. 25; And therefore I have turned it ib. 129; improved often since Chauc. Prol. 485; had swooned with a deadly look ib. Kn. T. 55; Now Alex has dwelled there Alexius, i. 121; Lord, I thank you always ib. 157; A long great while there he dwells Barbour, Bruce, i. 359.
But slurring and syncopation likewise are of frequent occurrence: þatt háffdenn cwémmd himm í þiss líf ib. 211; þet scúlle béo to déþe idémd Moral Ode, 106; His lónge héer was kémbd behýnde his bák Chauc. Kn. T. 1285; Fulfíld of íre ib. 82; especially in words with the accent on the antepenultima, e.g. Ybúried nór ibrént ib. 88; and hán hem cáried sófte ib. 153; And ben yhónowrid ás a kýng Alexius, i. 5, 12 (MS. N).
But slurring and syncopation are also common: that they had sung him in this life ib. 211; that shall be to death condemned Moral Ode, 106; His long hair was combed behind his back Chauc. Kn. T. 1285; Filled with ire ib. 82; especially in words with the accent on the antepenultimate, e.g. Buried nor burnt ib. 88; and han them carried soft ib. 153; And been honored as a king Alexius, i. 5, 12 (MS. N).
In this ending, too, syncopation (-ed, ’d, t) is the rule already in the earliest Modern English poets: offer’d Sur. 6; transgrést ib. 11; that prómised wás to thée ib. 35. The use of it as a full syllable, however, is very frequently to be met with, chiefly in participles used as adjectives: the párchëd gréen restórëd ís with sháde Sur. 1; by wéll assúrëd móan Wyatt, 4; but ármëd síghs ib. 4; false féignëd gráce ib. 4. The dramatists of the Elizabethan time (cf. Engl. Metrik, ii. 336) similarly often use the full ending; and even in modern poets it is not uncommon: where wé’ve involvëd óthers Burns, Remorse, l. 11 ; The chármëd Goad begán Keats, Lamia, p. 185, &c.
In this ending, syncopation (-ed, ’d, t) is the standard even in the earliest Modern English poets: offer’d Sur. 6; transgrést ib. 11; that prómised wás to thée ib. 35. However, the use of it as a full syllable is often found, mainly in participles used as adjectives: the párchëd gréen restórëd ís with sháde Sur. 1; by wéll assúrëd móan Wyatt, 4; but ármëd síghs ib. 4; false féignëd gráce ib. 4. The playwrights of the Elizabethan era (cf. Engl. Metrik, ii. 336) similarly frequently use the full ending; and even in modern poets, it's not unusual: where wé’ve involvëd óthers Burns, Remorse, l. 11; The chármëd Goad begán Keats, Lamia, p. 185, &c.
§ 103. The ending -ed (-od, -ud) of the 1st and 3rd pers. sing. pret. and the whole plur. pret. of weak verbs, which is shortened from -ede, -ode, -ude, -eden, -oden, -uden (cf. § 96), is in Middle English usually syllabic: e.g. Mést al þét me líked(e) þó Moral Ode, 7 ; Oure lóverd þát al máked(e) iwís Pop. Science, 2; He énded(e) and cléped(e) yt Léicestre Rob. of Glouc., p. 29; The fáder hem lóued(e) álle ynóȝ ib.; Híre overlíppe wýpud(e) sché so cléne Chauc. Prol. 107; An óutridére þat lóved(e) vénerýe ib. 165; Ne máked hím a spíced cónsciénce ib. 526; þei préced évere nére and nére Alexius, i. 583 (MS. V).
§ 103. The ending -ed (-od, -ud) for the 1st and 3rd person singular past tense, as well as the entire plural past tense of weak verbs, which is abbreviated from -ede, -ode, -ude, -eden, -oden, -uden (see § 96), is typically syllabic in Middle English: for example, Mést al þét me líked(e) þó Moral Ode, 7; Oure lóverd þát al máked(e) iwís Pop. Science, 2; He end(e)d(e) and cléped(e) yt Léicestre Rob. of Glouc., p. 29; The fáder hem lóued(e) álle ynóȝ ib.; Híre overlíppe wýpud(e) sché so cléne Chauc. Prol. 107; An óutridére þat lóved(e) vénerýe ib. 165; Ne máked hím a spíced cónsciénce ib. 526; þei préced évere nére and nére Alexius, i. 583 (MS. V).
As several of these examples show, slurring occasionally takes place, so that the ending forms part of a disyllabic thesis, but real syncopation never occurs; cf. further: Ánd asségit it rýgorouslý Barbour, Bruce, i. 88; and évere I hóped(e) of be to hére Alexius, ii. 482.
As several of these examples show, slurring sometimes happens, making the ending part of a two-syllable beat, but true syncopation never occurs; see also: And asségit it rýgorouslý Barbour, Bruce, i. 88; and évere I hóped(e) of be to hére Alexius, ii. 482.
With regard to these endings from the beginning of the Modern English epoch onward syncopation ([e]d, ’d, t) is the rule; defied Sur. 10; sustain’d ib. 15; opprest Wyatt, 107. But the full syllable not infrequently occurs: I lóokëd báck Sur. 4; I néver próvëd nóne Wyatt, 39. It is characteristic of Spenser’s archaistic style, and is often met with in the Elizabethan dramatists; Shakespeare, however, uses it much more frequently in his earlier than in his later plays. The more recent poets admit it in single cases: said: vánishéd Keats, Lamia, p. 202.
Regarding these endings from the start of the Modern English period onward, syncopation ([e]d, ’d, t) is the norm; defied Sur. 10; sustain’d ib. 15; opprest Wyatt, 107. However, the full syllable often appears: I lóokëd báck Sur. 4; I néver próvëd nóne Wyatt, 39. This is typical of Spenser’s archaic style and is frequently seen in Elizabethan playwrights; Shakespeare, though, uses it much more in his earlier works than in his later ones. More recent poets include it occasionally: said: vánishéd Keats, Lamia, p. 202.
§ 104. The final -e is treated in Modern English poetry in the same manner as in Modern High German: it may be either used as a thesis, or be slurred over, or become quite silent. In Middle English, however, the treatment of the final -e depends much more on the following word than on the etymological origin of the -e. It becomes mute, of course, mostly before h or a vowel, but is generally preserved (as a thesis) or slurred before a consonant. This rule has, however, many exceptions.
§ 104. In Modern English poetry, the final -e is treated similarly to how it's handled in Modern High German: it can be pronounced clearly, blended into the surrounding sounds, or entirely silent. In Middle English, though, how the final -e is treated relies more on the next word than on its original source. It usually goes silent before an h or a vowel, but is often kept (pronounced clearly) or blended before a consonant. However, there are many exceptions to this rule.
Orm and other poets of the beginning of the thirteenth century give the final e its full syllabic value in certain classes of words in which Chaucer[134] in the second half of the fourteenth century generally slurs it.
Orm and other poets from the early thirteenth century give the final e its full syllabic value in specific types of words, while Chaucer[134] in the latter half of the fourteenth century usually slurs it.
These words are the pronouns hire, oure, ȝoure, here, myne, thyne (also spelled without e), if they do not stand in rhyme; the plural forms thise, some, swiche, whiche; the past part. of strong verbs with an originally short root, the inflexional n being apocopated, e.g. come, write, stole; the 2nd pers. sing. of the strong pret., e.g. bare, tooke, except such words as songe, founde, and others of the same group; the preterites were and made; the nouns sone, wone; the French words in -ye, -aye, -eye, and, finally, the words before, tofore, there, heere.
These words are the pronouns hire, oure, ȝoure, here, myne, thyne (also spelled without e), if they don't rhyme; the plural forms thise, some, swiche, whiche; the past participle of strong verbs with an originally short root, with the inflectional n being dropped, e.g. come, write, stole; the 2nd person singular of the strong past tense, e.g. bare, tooke, except for words like songe, founde, and others in the same group; the past forms were and made; the nouns sone, wone; the French words ending in -ye, -aye, -eye, and finally, the words before, tofore, there, heere.
In most of these cases it is easy enough to give examples of the syllabic use of the -e, both from the earliest and from later poets: Off úre sáwless néde Orm. 11402; þatt úre Láferrd Iésu Críst ib. 11403, 11803, &c.; ȝérne hy þónkede óure dríghte Alexius, ii. 35; Annd ȝúre sáwless fóde íss éc Orm. 11691, &c.; þatt ȝúre préostess hállȝhenn ib. 11694; Till híse déore þéowwess ib. 11556; Att álle þíne néde ib. 11366, 11914, &c.; Owl and Nightingale, 220, 221, &c.; Cástel gód an míne ríse ib. 175, 282; Forgíve hémm hére sínne Orm. 86; Annd wílle iss híre þrídde máhht ib. 11509; For híre héorte wás so grét Owl and N. 43, 44, &c.; At súme síþe hérde ich télle ib. 293; þése wíkkede fóde ib. 333; And máde mé wíþ him ríde Sir Orfeo, 153. &c.
In most of these cases, it's pretty easy to provide examples of the syllabic use of the -e, both from early and later poets: Off úre sáwless néde Orm. 11402; þatt úre Láferrd Iésu Críst ib. 11403, 11803, &c.; ȝérne hy þónkede óure dríghte Alexius, ii. 35; Annd ȝúre sáwless fóde íss éc Orm. 11691, &c.; þatt ȝúre préostess hállȝhenn ib. 11694; Till híse déore þéowwess ib. 11556; Att álle þíne néde ib. 11366, 11914, &c.; Owl and Nightingale, 220, 221, &c.; Cástel gód an míne ríse ib. 175, 282; Forgíve hémm hére sínne Orm. 86; Annd wílle iss híre þrídde máhht ib. 11509; For híre héorte wás so grét Owl and N. 43, 44, &c.; At súme síþe hérde ich télle ib. 293; þése wíkkede fóde ib. 333; And máde mé wíþ him ríde Sir Orfeo, 153. &c.
All these words may, however, also be found with slurring or syncopation of the e, even in Early Middle English: Annd þéowwtenn wél wiþþ áll þin máhht Orm. 11393; þa wǽre he þǽr bikǽchedd ib. 11628; Annd súme itt áll forrwérrþenn ib. 11512; Min héorte atflíhþ and fált mi túnge Owl and N. 37; þár þe úle sóng hir tíde ib. 26, 441; þat ich schúlle tó hire fléo ib. 442; he wére ischóte ib. 23, 53, &c. In later Middle English this is more common: An ýmage óf hire sóne Alexius i. 105; þeróf to gód þei máde here móne ib. 32; Sómme þat óf þe ínne wére Alexius ii. 325; Fáste þey wére ysóught þoróugh ib. 14; And lóke síre at ȝóure pilgríme ib. 394; And thére our óst bigán Chauc. Prol. 827; Entúned ín hire nóse ib. 123; Nought gréveth ús youre glórie ánd honóur id. Kn. T. 59; þúrgh yóure géntilnésse ib. 62; ánd hire fálse whéel ib. 67; And pílgryms wére they álle Chauc. Prol. 26, 59; At níght was cóme intó that hóstelríe ib. 23; With hím ther wás his sóne, a yóung squyér ib. 79; In mótteléye and hígh ib. 271; cómpanýe in yóuthe ib. 461; no vílanýe is ít ib. 740, &c.
All these words can also be found with slurring or syncopation of the e, even in Early Middle English: Annd þéowwtenn wél wiþþ áll þin máhht Orm. 11393; þa wǽre he þǽr bikǽchedd ib. 11628; Annd súme itt áll forrwérrþenn ib. 11512; Min héorte atflíhþ and fált mi túnge Owl and N. 37; þár þe úle sóng hir tíde ib. 26, 441; þat ich schúlle tó hire fléo ib. 442; he wére ischóte ib. 23, 53, &c. In later Middle English this is more common: An ýmage óf hire sóne Alexius i. 105; þeróf to gód þei máde here móne ib. 32; Sómme þat óf þe ínne wére Alexius ii. 325; Fáste þey wére ysóught þoróugh ib. 14; And lóke síre at ȝóure pilgríme ib. 394; And thére our óst bigán Chauc. Prol. 827; Entúned ín hire nóse ib. 123; Nought gréveth ús your glórie ánd honóur id. Kn. T. 59; þúrgh yóure géntilnésse ib. 62; ánd hire fálse whéel ib. 67; And pílgryms wére they álle Chauc. Prol. 26, 59; At níght was cóme intó that hóstelríe ib. 23; With hím ther wás his sóne, a yóung squyér ib. 79; In mótteléye and hígh ib. 271; cómpanýe in yóuthe ib. 461; no vílanýe is ít ib. 740, &c.
1. Infinitive, (a) And stónde úpe gódes knýght Alexius ii. 269; to télle yów áll the condícióun Chauc. Prol. 38. (b) to táke our wéy ib. 34; Mén mote ȝeve sílver ib. 232.
1. Infinitive, (a) And stood up good knight Alexius ii. 269; to tell you all the condition Chauc. Prol. 38. (b) to take our way ib. 34; Men must give silver ib. 232.
2. Past part. of strong verbs, (a) ydráwe né ybóre Sq. T. 336; þó þe chíld ybóre wás Alexius ii. 37; (b) Ybóre he wás in Róme ib. 6; Though hé were cóme agáin Chauc. Sq. T. 96; ycóme from hís viáge id. Prol. 77, &c.
2. Past part. of strong verbs, (a) he drew and bore Sq. T. 336; though the child was born Alexius ii. 37; (b) He was born in Rome ib. 6; Though he had come again Chauc. Sq. T. 96; come back from his journey id. Prol. 77, &c.
3. Various inflexional endings of the verb, (a) þát ich réde wé begínne Cant. Creat. E. 225; And yét I hópe, pár ma fáy Chauc. Sir Thopas l. 2010; and máde fórward id. Prol. 33; and wénte fór to dóon ib. 78; yet hádde hé but lítel góld in cóffre ib. 298; And séyde tó her þús Alexius i. 69; gládly wólde préche Chauc. Prol. 480. (b) devóutly wólde he téche ib. 481; I trówe ther nówher nón is ib. 524; I trówe some mén id. Sq. T. 213; So hádde I spóken id. Prol. 31; hádde he bé ib. 60; if thát sche sáwe a móus ib. 144; chíldren betwéen them hédde þei nóne Alexius i. 31; Bote méte fóunde þeȝ nón saundóute Cant. Creat. O. 62.
3. Various verb endings, (a) that I started to speak Cant. Creat. E. 225; And yet I hope, there might be some Chauc. Sir Thopas l. 2010; and made an agreement id. Prol. 33; and went off to do ib. 78; yet he had only a little gold in the chest ib. 298; And said to her thus Alexius i. 69; gladly would preach Chauc. Prol. 480. (b) devoutly would he teach ib. 481; I believe there is nowhere none ib. 524; I believe some men id. Sq. T. 213; So I had spoken id. Prol. 31; had he been ib. 60; if that she saw a mouse ib. 144; children between them had they none Alexius i. 31; But no food found they without Cant. Creat. O. 62.
4. Inflexional endings of Germanic substantives, (a) His nékke whít Chauc. Prol. 238; Of wóodecráft ib. 210; whán the sónne wás to réste ib. 30; a spánne bróod ib. 155; At méte wél itáught ib. 127; Ne óf his spéche dáungeróus ib. 517; As wéll in spéche ás in cóntenánce id. Sq. T. 93; of sínne léche Alexius i. 59; He ȝéde tó a chírche-héi ib. 97; ál for lóve míne Alexius ii. 87; of héwe bríght ib. 100; while gód in érþe máde mán Cant. Creat. E. 26. (b) Tróuthe and honóur Chauc. Prol. 46; Thát no drópe ne fílle ib. 131; In hópe to stónden ib. 88; And bý his sýde a swérd ib. 112; tó the pýne of hélle Cant. Creat. O. 240; þurch príde þat ín his wórd was líȝt ib. E. 14.
4. Inflectional endings of Germanic nouns, (a) His neck was white Chauc. Prol. 238; Of woodcraft ib. 210; when the sun was at rest ib. 30; a span of broth ib. 155; At meat well it taught ib. 127; Not of his speech dangerous ib. 517; As well in speech as in countenance id. Sq. T. 93; of sin leech Alexius i. 59; He went to a church high ib. 97; all for love mine Alexius ii. 87; of hue bright ib. 100; while God on earth made man Cant. Creat. E. 26. (b) Truth and honour Chauc. Prol. 46; That no drop may fall ib. 131; In hope to stand ib. 88; And by his side a sword ib. 112; to the pain of hell Cant. Creat. O. 240; through pride that in his word was light ib. E. 14.
6. Adjectives. (a) Chiefly after the definite article, pronouns, and in plural forms: and ín the Gréte Sée Chauc. Prol. 59; The téndre cróppes ánd the yónge sónne ib. 7; his hálfe cóurs irónne ib. 8; wíth his swéete bréethe ib. 5; to séken stráunge strondes ib. 13; the férste niȝt Alexius i. 55; þat ílke dáy ib. 159; þe déde córs ib. 420; Póuere mén to clóþe and féde ib. 10, 13, 93, &c.; cómen of hýe kínne Alex. ii. 99; with mílde stévene ib. 72; annd álle fúle lússtess Orm. 11656. (b) Chiefly after the indefinite article, but in other cases as well: Annd álle þe flǽshess kággerléȝȝc Orm. 11655; a fáyr forhéed Chauc. Prol. 254; as ís a póure scolér ib. 260; as méke as ís a máyde ib. 69; a shéef of pécock árwes bríght and kéne ib. 104.
6. Adjectives. (a) Mainly after the definite article, pronouns, and in plural forms: and in the Great Sea Chauc. Prol. 59; The tender crops and the young sun ib. 7; his half course iron ib. 8; with his sweet breath ib. 5; to seek strange shores ib. 13; the first night Alexius i. 55; that same day ib. 159; the dead corpse ib. 420; Poor men to clothe and feed ib. 10, 13, 93, &c.; come of high kin Alex. ii. 99; with mild voice ib. 72; and all foul lusts Orm. 11656. (b) Mainly after the indefinite article, but in other cases as well: And all the flesh's caggery Orm. 11655; a fair forehead Chauc. Prol. 254; as is a poor scholar ib. 260; as meek as is a maid ib. 69; a sheaf of peacock arrows bright and keen ib. 104.
7. Adverbs and prepositions. (a) Míldelíche hé him grétte Alexius ii. 296; Ríght abóute nóne ib. 387; And sófte bróuȝte hém obédde ib. 23; Ful ófte time ib. 52; Ful lúde sóngen Chauc. Sq. T. 55; Abóute príme id. Kn. T. 1331; abóue érpe Cant. Creat. E. 573. (b) Fáste þei wére ysóught þorúgh Alexius ii. 14; And éek as lóude as dóth Chauc. Prol. 171; Ther ís namóre to séyne ib. 314; stílle as ány stóon id. Sq. T. 171; Abóute this kýng id. Kn. T. 1321; Chíldren betwéne hem hédde þei nóne Alexius i. 31; wiþýnne a whýle Cant. Creat. O. 29; ȝif ȝít oure lórd abóue þe ský ib. O. 186.
7. Adverbs and prepositions. (a) Gently he greeted Alexius ii. 296; Right around noon ib. 387; And softly brought him to bed ib. 23; Very often ib. 52; Very loudly sung Chauc. Sq. T. 55; Around prime id. Kn. T. 1331; above earth Cant. Creat. E. 573. (b) Quickly they were sought through Alexius ii. 14; And also as loud as does Chauc. Prol. 171; There is nothing more to say ib. 314; still as any stone id. Sq. T. 171; Around this king id. Kn. T. 1321; Children between them had none Alexius i. 31; within a while Cant. Creat. O. 29; if yet our Lord above the sky ib. O. 186.
8. Numerals. (a) she hádde fýve Chauc. Prol. 460; Fúlle séventéne ȝére Alexius i. 179, 187, 321; of fíue þóusende wínter and ón Cant. Creat. E. 462; nóþer férste tíme ne lást ib. O. 356. (b) and fíue and twénti wínter and mó ib. E. 463; táken þe ténde part óf þy gúod ib. O. 332; álle þe béstis ib. 173; For séventene ȝér hít is gán Alexius i. 194
8. Numerals. (a) she had five Chauc. Prol. 460; Full seventeen years Alexius i. 179, 187, 321; of five thousand winters and one Cant. Creat. E. 462; neither first time nor last ib. O. 356. (b) and five and twenty winters and more ib. E. 463; take the tenth part of thy good ib. O. 332; all the beasts ib. 173; For seventeen years it has been going Alexius i. 194
§ 106. In poems written in more southern dialects the final -e retains its syllabic value later than in those of the North, in agreement with the actual usage of the dialects of these districts. Sir Tristrem (c. 1300) has still many syllabic e’s in thesis; in the Cursor Mundi (c. 1320) and the Metrical Homilies (c. 1330) they are not so numerous, and they are still rarer in the poems of Laurence Minot (c. 1352) and of Thomas of Erceldoune. The editor of the last-mentioned poet, Prof. Alois Brandl, rejects the syllabic final -e altogether in opposition to ten Brink and Luick. In Barbour’s Bruce (c. 1375) it is entirely silent.[135]
§ 106. In poems written in more southern dialects, the final -e keeps its syllabic value longer than in those from the North, aligning with the actual usage of the dialects in these areas. Sir Tristrem (c. 1300) still has many syllabic e’s in thesis; in the Cursor Mundi (c. 1320) and the Metrical Homilies (c. 1330), they are less common, and they become even rarer in the poems of Laurence Minot (c. 1352) and Thomas of Erceldoune. The editor of the latter poet, Prof. Alois Brandl, completely discards the syllabic final -e, contrary to ten Brink and Luick. In Barbour’s Bruce (c. 1375), it is entirely silent.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
But in the later poetry of the North, which was largely under the influence of southern English models, chiefly of Chaucer, many inflexional endings, especially various kinds of final -e, have a metrical value. King James I, one of the most eminent Scottish poets, e.g., is a strict follower of Chaucer in this respect, both in versification and language.[136] This will be shown by the following examples: Myn éyen gán to smért stanza 8; To séken hélp 99; that néver chánge wóld 83; That féynen óutward 136; That ménen wéle 137; We wéren áll 24; Lýke to an hérte schápin vérilý 48; Thús sall on thé my chárge béne iláid 120; in lúfe fór a whíle 134; Now, swéte bírd, say ónes tó me pépe, I dée for wó; me thínk thou gýnnis slépe 57; And ón the smále gréne twístis sát 33; Withín a chámber, lárge, równ, and fáire 77.
But in the later poetry of the North, which was mostly influenced by southern English models, primarily Chaucer, many inflectional endings, especially various types of final -e, have a metrical value. King James I, one of the most notable Scottish poets, for example, strictly follows Chaucer in this regard, both in versification and language.[136] This will be illustrated by the following examples: Myn éyen gán to smért stanza 8; To séken hélp 99; that néver chánge wóld 83; That féynen óutward 136; That ménen wéle 137; We wéren áll 24; Lýke to an hérte schápin vérilý 48; Thús sall on thé my chárge béne iláid 120; in lúfe fór a whíle 134; Now, swéte bírd, say ónes tó me pépe, I dée for wó; me thínk thou gýnnis slépe 57; And ón the smále gréne twístis sát 33; Withín a chámber, lárge, równ, and fáire 77.
Other Scottish poets, like Dunbar, use the final e in the same way, but much more sparingly: Amáng the gréne ríspis ánd the rédis Terge 56; And gréne lévis dóing of déw doun fléit Thrissil and Rois 49; scho sénd the swífte Ró ib. 78; when Mérche wés with váriand wíndis past ib. 1.
Other Scottish poets, like Dunbar, use the final e similarly, but much less frequently: Among the green rips and the reds Terge 56; And green leaves doing of dew down flit Thrissil and Rois 49; she sent the swift Roe ib. 78; when March was with varied winds past ib. 1.
Only the inflexional endings of substantives and of verbs are used by Dunbar somewhat more frequently as full syllables, e.g.: Had máid the bírdis to begín thair hóuris Thrissil and Rois 5; of flóuris fórgit néw ib. 18; the blástis óf his hórne ib. 34; In át the wíndow lúkit bý the dáy ib. 10; And hálsit mé ib. 11; Bálmit in déw ib. 20; The pérlit dróppis schúke Terge 14. Even Lyndesay still uses certain full endings now and then in this way: Éleméntis: intént is Monarchie 247–8; thay cán nocht ús it: abúsit Satire 2897–8; Quhow Í ressávit cónfort Monarchie 132; Lyke áurient péirles ón the twístis háng ib. 136. But the final -e is hardly ever found in his verses forming a thesis.
Only the inflectional endings of nouns and verbs are used by Dunbar somewhat more often as full syllables, for example: Had made the birds to begin their hours Thrissil and Rois 5; of flowers forgot new ib. 18; the blasts of his horn ib. 34; In at the window looked by the day ib. 10; And hailed me ib. 11; Balmed in dew ib. 20; The peril drops shook Terge 14. Even Lyndesay still uses certain full endings now and then in this way: Elenments: intent is Monarchie 247–8; they can’t us it: abused Satire 2897–8; How I received comfort Monarchie 132; Like orient pearls on the twists hang ib. 136. But the final -e is hardly ever found in his verses forming a thesis.
On the other hand some contemporary authors of the South, reckoned as included in the Modern English period, continue to admit in several cases the syllabic final -e, but this can only be regarded as an exception. E. g. The sótë séason, that búd and blóom forth bríngs Surrey, p. 3; Thát the Gréeks bróught to Tróyë tówn ib. 21; Hersélf in shádow óf the clósë níght ib. 138; Agáinst the búlwark óf the fléshë fráil Wyatt 207; But tréated áfter á divérsë fáshion ib. 7.
On the other hand, some modern authors from the South, considered part of the Modern English period, still sometimes use the syllabic final -e, but this can only be seen as an exception. For example, The sótë séason, that búd and blóom forth bríngs Surrey, p. 3; Thát the Gréeks bróught to Tróyë tówn ib. 21; Hersélf in shádow óf the clósë níght ib. 138; Agáinst the búlwark óf the fléshë fráil Wyatt 207; But tréated áfter á divérsë fáshion ib. 7.
Spenser does not seem to admit syllabic final -e, in spite of his archaic style.
Spenser doesn't seem to allow syllabic final -e, despite his old-fashioned style.
§ 107. Like the inflexional syllables, the suffixes of derivatives may be treated in a twofold manner. Those of Germanic origin for the most part call for little remark, as many of them have coalesced with the root of the word, and others, as e.g. the syllables -ing, -ness, -y, -ly, can, on account of their phonetic character, only be metrically treated as full syllables. Only a few fluctuate in their metrical treatment, as e.g. -en, -er, -le, mostly after a consonant; these will be dealt with in the section on the slurring of syllables.
§ 107. Like inflectional syllables, the suffixes of derivatives can be viewed in two ways. Most of those from Germanic origin require little attention since many have merged with the root of the word, and others, like the syllables -ing, -ness, -y, -ly, because of their phonetic nature, can only be treated as full syllables in metric. Only a few have variable metrical treatment, such as -en, -er, -le, mostly after a consonant; these will be discussed in the section on syllable slurring.
Of much greater importance are the formative endings of Romanic origin, especially those which begin with an i, e, or u + a vowel, as -iage, -ian, -iaunt, -iance, -ience, -ient, -ier, -ioun, -ious, -eous, -uous, -ial, -ual, -iat, -iour. Such endings may either have their full value, or be slurred in rhythm, i.e. they may be treated either as disyllabic or as monosyllabic.
Of much greater importance are the formative endings of Romanic origin, especially those that start with an i, e, or u followed by a vowel, like -iage, -ian, -iaunt, -iance, -ience, -ient, -ier, -ioun, -ious, -eous, -uous, -ial, -ual, -iat, -iour. These endings can either be fully pronounced or slurred in rhythm, meaning they can be treated as either disyllabic or monosyllabic.
The full forms do not occur frequently in the interior of the line, but mostly in the last foot, where the endings bear the last arsis and offer a convenient rhyme. Hence we conclude, that the slurred pronunciation (synizesis) had in the later Middle English period already become general in ordinary speech, although the full value is in rhyme-words certainly more common: e.g. viáge: pílgrimáge Chaucer, Prol. 77–8; langáge: márriáge ib. 211–12; térciáne: báne N. Pr. Tale 139–40; córdiál: spéciál Prol. 443–4; ethériáll: impériáll Lyndesay, Monarchie 139–40; curát: licénciát Chauc. Prol. 219–20; láste : ecclésiáste ib. 707–8; réverénce: cónsciénce ib. 225–6; offénce : páciénce Kn. T. 225–6; dísposícióun: cónstellációun ib. 229–30; prisóun: compássióun ib. 251–2; áscendént: páciént Prol. 117–18; obédiént: assént ib. 851–2; óriént: résplendént Lyndesay, Monarchie 140–2; glorióus: précióus ib. 28–32, 44–5, 48–52, 75–9, 151–2, &c.; ymágynációun: impréssióun: illusióun James I, Kingis Quair, st. 12; nációun: mýlióun: méncióun ib. st. 78. Slurred endings: Ful wél bilóved and fámuliér was hé Chauc. Prol. 215; And spéciallý ib. 15; a cúrious pýn ib. 196; Perpétuellý, not ónly fór a yéer Kn. T. 600; Suspécious wás the Clerk’s T. 540; This sérgeant cám ib. 575, 582, &c.
The full forms aren’t often found in the middle of the line but mostly at the end, where the endings carry the final stress and provide a good rhyme. Therefore, we conclude that the slurred pronunciation (synizesis) had already become common in everyday speech during the later Middle English period, even though the full forms are certainly more frequent in rhyme words: e.g. viáge: pílgrimáge Chaucer, Prol. 77–8; langáge: márriáge ib. 211–12; térciáne: báne N. Pr. Tale 139–40; córdiál: spéciál Prol. 443–4; ethériáll: impériáll Lyndesay, Monarchie 139–40; curát: licénciát Chauc. Prol. 219–20; láste : ecclésiáste ib. 707–8; réverénce: cónsciénce ib. 225–6; offénce : páciénce Kn. T. 225–6; dísposícióun: cónstellációun ib. 229–30; prisóun: compássióun ib. 251–2; áscendént: páciént Prol. 117–18; obédiént: assént ib. 851–2; óriént: résplendént Lyndesay, Monarchie 140–2; glorióus: précióus ib. 28–32, 44–5, 48–52, 75–9, 151–2, &c.; ymágynacióun: impréssióun: illusióun James I, Kingis Quair, st. 12; nációun: mýlióun: méncióun ib. st. 78. Slurred endings: Ful wél bilóved and fámuliér was hé Chauc. Prol. 215; And spéciallý ib. 15; a cúrious pýn ib. 196; Perpétuellý, not ónly fór a yéer Kn. T. 600; Suspécious wás the Clerk’s T. 540; This sérgeant cám ib. 575, 582, &c.
Later on slurring becomes more frequent, mainly in the North, e.g. in Dunbar’s poems: with váriand wíndis pást Thrissil and Rois 1; wíth ane órient blást, ib. 3; So bústeous ár the blástis ib. 35; ane ínhibítioun tháir ib. 64 (but condítióun: renówn: fassóun 79–82); A rádius crówn ib. 132; Lyndesay, Monarchie: On sénsuall Lúste 9; Lyke áurient péirles 136; and búrial bémes 142; his régioun áuroráll 148; Quhilk sítuate ár 166; melódious ármonýe 195; off thát mellífluous, fámous 232; And síc vaine súperstítioun tó refúse 242; The quhílk gaif sápience 249.
Later on, slurring becomes more common, especially in the North, like in Dunbar’s poems: with varied winds past Thrissil and Rois 1; with an orient blast, ib. 3; So boisterous are the blasts ib. 35; an inhibition there ib. 64 (but condition: renown: fashion 79–82); A radius crown ib. 132; Lyndesay, Monarchie: On sensual Lust 9; Like orient pearls 136; and burial beams 142; his region auroral 148; Which situate are 166; melodious harmony 195; of that mellifluous, famous 232; And such vain superstition to refuse 242; The which gave sapience 249.
In the Modern English period of the language slurring of such syllables is the rule, in conformity with the actual pronunciation in prose, contrary to the usage of Chaucer and other Early Middle English poets. Only exceptionally the unshortened use obtains chiefly in earlier Modern English, as the following examples show:
In the Modern English period, slurring of such syllables became the norm, reflecting how people actually pronounce them in prose, unlike how Chaucer and other Early Middle English poets did. The unshortened usage only occurs occasionally, mainly in earlier Modern English, as the following examples illustrate:
For other examples cf. Metrik, ii. § 40
For other examples, see Metrik, ii. § 40
§ 108. By the side of this artificial attribution of full syllabic value to Romanic endings which in ordinary pronunciation are contracted, there are many examples of the opposite process, namely the contraction, for metrical purposes, of words that are ordinarily pronounced in full. Both these devices serve the same purpose, that of adjusting the number of syllables to the requirements of the rhythm.
§ 108. Alongside the tendency to give Romanic endings their full syllabic value, even though they're usually pronounced more briefly, there are also many cases where words that are normally fully pronounced are shortened for the sake of meter. Both of these techniques aim to align the number of syllables with the rhythm's needs.
In the former case a syllable which commonly is pronounced quickly and indistinctly is uttered more distinctly and more slowly than in ordinary speech. In the latter, a couple of successive syllables or words are uttered more indistinctly and quickly than in ordinary speech, frequently so much so that a syllable may be entirely suppressed. Hence the slurring of syllables results, according to the degree of contraction, either in a disyllabic thesis, or in the complete coalescence of two syllables. The former takes place if the final unaccented vowel of a polysyllable is run into the following unaccented word consisting of, or beginning with, a vowel, e.g.:
In the first case, a syllable that usually gets pronounced quickly and unclearly is said more clearly and slowly than in everyday speech. In the second case, a pair of consecutive syllables or words are said more unclearly and quickly than usual, often to the point where one syllable might be completely dropped. As a result, the slurring of syllables varies depending on how much they are contracted, either leading to a two-syllable combination or completely merging two syllables. The first situation occurs when the last unaccented vowel of a multi-syllable word blends with the next unaccented word that starts with a vowel, for example:
In cases like these it cannot be supposed that there is actual elision of a syllable, by which many a, busy a, carie a, glorie and, happy are, country I, sorry am, would be reduced to regular disyllabic feet. In several of the instances such an assumption is forbidden not only by the indistinctness of pronunciation which it would involve, but also by the caesura.
In situations like these, we can't assume that there's actually a missing syllable that would turn many a, busy a, carie a, glorie and, happy are, country I, sorry am into regular two-syllable patterns. In some cases, making that assumption is not only ruled out by the unclear pronunciation it would cause, but also by the pause in the sentence.
Further, we find both in Middle and in Modern English poetry many examples of similar sequences in which there is neither elision nor slurring, the syllable ending with a vowel forming the thesis, and the following syllable beginning with a vowel forming the arsis. Hiatus of this kind has always been perfectly admissible in English verse.
Further, we find many examples in both Middle and Modern English poetry of similar sequences where there is neither elision nor slurring. The syllable ending in a vowel creates the thesis, and the next syllable starting with a vowel creates the arsis. This kind of hiatus has always been completely acceptable in English verse.
§ 109. The second possibility, viz. complete amalgamation of two syllables, may occur if a word with an initial vowel or h is preceded by a monosyllabic word, standing in thesis, e.g. th’estat, th’array Chauc. Prol. 716; th’ascendent ib. 117; t’allege (to allege) Kn. T. 2142; nys (ne ys) ib. 43. Even in Modern English poetry such contractions occur rather frequently: Th’altar Sur. 118; t’assay Wyatt 157; N’other ib. 21; often also the words are written in full, although the first vowel is metrically slurred or elided: the͡ ónly darling Shakesp. All’s Well, II. i. 110. Yet in all such cases the entire loss of the syllable must not be assumed unless the distinctness of the pronunciation—which must be the only guide in such matters, not the silent reading with the eyes—be sufficiently preserved.[137]
§ 109. The second possibility, which is the complete merging of two syllables, can happen if a word starting with a vowel or h is preceded by a one-syllable word that is stressed, for example, th’estat, th’array Chauc. Prol. 716; th’ascendent ib. 117; t’allege (to allege) Kn. T. 2142; nys (ne ys) ib. 43. Even in modern English poetry, these contractions occur quite often: Th’altar Sur. 118; t’assay Wyatt 157; N’other ib. 21; often the words are also written in full, although the first vowel is metrically slurred or omitted: the͡ ónly darling Shakesp. All’s Well, II. i. 110. However, in all these cases, you shouldn't assume the complete loss of the syllable unless the clarity of pronunciation— which should be the only benchmark for these matters, not how it looks when read silently— is adequately preserved.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
Accordingly words like the, to are not so often contracted with the following word, as ne, the amalgamation of which, with the verb to which it belongs, is in accordance with normal Middle English usage: nas = ne was, nil = ne wil, nolde = ne wolde, noot = ne woot, niste = ne wiste, e.g.:
Accordingly, words like the and to are not usually combined with the following word, while ne is often merged with the verb it belongs to, which follows typical Middle English usage: nas = ne was, nil = ne wil, nolde = ne wolde, noot = ne woot, niste = ne wiste, for example:
Neither in Middle English nor in Modern English poetry, however, is there any compulsion to use such contractions for the purpose of avoiding the hiatus, which never was prohibited. They merely serve the momentary need of the poet. Forms like min and thin, it is true, are regularly used by Middle English poets before vowels, and my and thy before consonants, and Chaucer applies—according to ten Brink—from, oon, noon, an, -lych, -lyche before vowels, and fro, a, o, no, -ly before consonants. But many examples of epic caesura show that ten Brink goes too far in maintaining that hiatus was strictly avoided, e.g.: Whan théy were wónnë; | and ín the Gréete sée Prol. 59. This is still more clearly shown by verses in which the final -e forms a necessary thesis before a vowel, e.g.:
Neither in Middle English nor in Modern English poetry is there any obligation to use such contractions to avoid the hiatus, which was never prohibited. They simply meet the temporary needs of the poet. Forms like min and thin are indeed regularly used by Middle English poets before vowels, and my and thy before consonants. Chaucer uses—according to ten Brink—from, oon, noon, an, -lych, -lyche before vowels, and fro, a, o, no, -ly before consonants. However, many examples of epic caesura demonstrate that ten Brink is mistaken in asserting that hiatus was strictly avoided, e.g.: Whan théy were wónnë; | and ín the Gréete sée Prol. 59. This is even more clearly illustrated by verses in which the final -e creates a necessary thesis before a vowel, e.g.:
§ 110. Slurring or contraction is still more frequently the result of indistinct pronunciation or entire elision of a vowel in the interior of a word. This is especially the case with e (or another vowel) in the sequence: conson. + e + r + vowel or h, where e is slurred over or syncopated: e.g. And báthed év(e)ry véin Chauc. Prol. 3; Thy sóv(e)rein témple wól I móst honóuren Kn. T. 1549; and év(e)ry trée Sur. 9; the bóist(e)rous wínds Sur. 21; if ám(o)rous fáith Wyatt 15; a dáng(e)rous cáse Sur. 4, &c. The full pronunciation is, of course, here also possible: and dángeróus distréss Sur. 150. Slurring of a vowel is also caused by this combination of sounds formed by two successive words: a bétre envýned mán Chauc. Prol. 342; Forgétter of páin Wyatt 33. Other words of the same kind are adder, after, anger, beggar, chamber, silver, water, &c.[138] The same rule applies to the group e + l + vowel or h (also l + e + vowel or h): hire wýmpel͡ ipynched was Chauc. Prol. 151; At mány a nóble͡ arríve ib. 60; nóble͡ and hígh Wyatt 55; the néedle his fínger prícks Shak. Lucrece 319.
§ 110. Slurring or contraction often happens because of unclear pronunciation or completely dropping a vowel inside a word. This is especially true for e (or another vowel) in the sequence: consonant + e + r + vowel or h, where e is overlooked or omitted: e.g. And báthed év(e)ry véin Chauc. Prol. 3; Thy sóv(e)rein témple wól I móst honóuren Kn. T. 1549; and év(e)ry trée Sur. 9; the bóist(e)rous wínds Sur. 21; if ám(o)rous fáith Wyatt 15; a dáng(e)rous cáse Sur. 4, &c. The full pronunciation is, of course, also possible: and dángeróus distréss Sur. 150. Slurring a vowel can also happen from the combination of sounds formed by two consecutive words: a bétre envýned mán Chauc. Prol. 342; Forgétter of páin Wyatt 33. Other similar words include adder, after, anger, beggar, chamber, silver, water, &c.[138] The same rule applies to the group e + l + vowel or h (also l + e + vowel or h): hire wýmpel͡ ipynched was Chauc. Prol. 151; At mány a nóble͡ arríve ib. 60; nóble͡ and hígh Wyatt 55; the néedle his fínger prícks Shak. Lucrece 319.
If a consonant takes the place of the vowel or h at the end of such a group of sounds, we have a disyllabic thesis instead of slurring: With hórrible féar as óne that gréatly dréadeth Wyatt 149; The cómmon péople by númbers swárm to ús Shak. 3 Hen. VI, IV. ii. 2. Similar slurrings are to be found—although more seldom and mainly in Modern English poetry—with other groups of sounds, e.g.: én’mies sword Sur. 137; théat’ner ib. 162; prís’ners ib. 12. The vowel i, also, is sometimes slurred; Incónt(i)nent Wyatt, 110; dést(i)ny ib. 8, &c. In all these cases we must of course recognize only slurring, not syncopation of the vowel; and in general these words are used with their full syllabic value in the rhythm of a verse.
If a consonant replaces the vowel or h at the end of such a group of sounds, we have a disyllabic thesis instead of slurring: With hórrible féar as óne that gréatly dréadeth Wyatt 149; The cómmon péople by númbers swárm to ús Shak. 3 Hen. VI, IV. ii. 2. Similar slurrings are found—although less frequently and mainly in Modern English poetry—with other groups of sounds, for example: én’mies sword Sur. 137; théat’ner ib. 162; prís’ners ib. 12. The vowel i is sometimes slurred as well; Incónt(i)nent Wyatt, 110; dést(i)ny ib. 8, &c. In all these cases, we must recognize only slurring, not the syncopation of the vowel; generally, these words are used with their full syllabic value in the rhythm of a verse.
Another kind of slurring—occurring almost exclusively in Modern English poetry—is effected by contraction of a short vowel with a preceding long one, so that a disyllabic word becomes monosyllabic, e.g., flower, lower, power, tower, coward, prayer, jewel, cruel, doing, going, being, seeing, dying, playing, praying, knowing, &c.: Whose pówer divíne Sur. 118; prayer: prayr Wyatt 26; His crúel despíte Sur. 7.
Another type of slurring, which mainly appears in Modern English poetry, happens when a short vowel combines with a preceding long one, making a two-syllable word into one syllable, for example, flower, lower, power, tower, coward, prayer, jewel, cruel, doing, going, being, seeing, dying, playing, praying, knowing, etc.: Whose pówer divíne Sur. 118; prayer: prayr Wyatt 26; His crúel despíte Sur. 7.
All these words are, of course, not less frequently used as disyllables sometimes even when their usual pronunciation is monosyllabic, e.g.:
All these words are, of course, used just as often as two-syllable words, sometimes even when they’re usually pronounced as one syllable, e.g.:
§ 111. Other groups of sounds which allow slurring are: vowel + r + vowel, where the second vowel may be slurred, e.g., spirit, alarum, warrant, nourish, flourish, &c.; My fáther’s spírit in árms! Shak. Haml. I. ii. 255; flóurishing péopled tówns id. Gentl. V.iv. 3; I wárrant, it wíll id. Haml. I. ii. 243. In the group vowel + v + e(i)+cons. the v is slurred, if a consonant appears as the initial sound of the following word, and e(i) if the following word begins with a vowel. Such words are: heaven, seven, eleven, devil, even, ever, never, &c.; e.g., and é’en the whóle Wyatt 80; had néver his fíll id. 108; disdáin they né’er so múch Shak. 1 Hen. VI, V. iii. 98; and drível on péarls Wyatt 195. These words have, of course, not less frequently their full syllabic value: Of Héaven gátes Wyatt 222; Then sét this drível óut of dóor Sur. 79. Also th between vowels may be subjected to slurring, as in whether, whither, hither, thither, either, neither, rather, further, &c.; e.g., go ásk him whíther he góes Shak. 1 Hen. VI, II. iii. 28; Good Sír, say whéther you’ll ánswer mé or nót, id. Caes. V. iv. 30; Whether óught to ús unknówn id. Haml. II. ii. 17.
§ 111. Other groups of sounds that allow slurring are: vowel + r + vowel, where the second vowel may be slurred, e.g., spirit, alarum, warrant, nourish, flourish, etc.; My father’s spirit in arms! Shak. Haml. I. ii. 255; flourishing peopled towns id. Gentl. V.iv. 3; I warrant, it will id. Haml. I. ii. 243. In the group vowel + v + e(i) + cons., the v is slurred if a consonant appears as the initial sound of the following word, and e(i) if the next word begins with a vowel. Such words are: heaven, seven, eleven, devil, even, ever, never, etc.; e.g., and e’en the whole Wyatt 80; had never his fill id. 108; disdain they ne’er so much Shak. 1 Hen. VI, V. iii. 98; and drivel on pearls Wyatt 195. These words have, of course, not less frequently their full syllabic value: Of Heaven gates Wyatt 222; Then set this drivel out of door Sur. 79. Also th between vowels may be slurred, as in whether, whither, hither, thither, either, neither, rather, further, etc.; e.g., go ask him whither he goes Shak. 1 Hen. VI, II. iii. 28; Good Sir, say whether you’ll answer me or not, id. Caes. V. iv. 30; Whether ought to us unknown id. Haml. II. ii. 17.
When a syllabic inflexional ending forms one thesis with a following syllable, as in The ímages of revólt Shak. Lear, II. iv. 91; I hád not quóted him id. Haml. II. i. 112, &c., it is preferable to assume a disyllabic thesis rather than a slurring. Sometimes, however, the -ed of past participles (rarely of preterites) of verbs ending in t is actually cut off, as torment instead of tormented Wyatt 137; deject instead of dejected Shak. Haml. III. i. 163.
When a syllabic inflectional ending forms one unit with a following syllable, like in The images of revolt Shak. Lear, II. iv. 91; I had not quoted him id. Haml. II. i. 112, etc., it’s better to assume a disyllabic unit instead of a slurring. However, sometimes the -ed of past participles (rarely of past tense) of verbs ending in t is actually shortened, like torment instead of tormented Wyatt 137; deject instead of dejected Shak. Haml. III. i. 163.
Contractions of another kind—partly to be explained by negligent colloquial pronunciation—are: ta’en (=taken) Wyatt 182; I’ll (=I will) Shak. Tempest, II. ii. 419; carry ’em (=carry them) id. 2 Hen. VI, I. iv. 76, &c.; Ma(d)am id. Gent. II. i. 6; in’s (=in his), doff (=do off), dout (=do out), o’ the (=of the), w’us (=with us), let’s (=let us), thou’rt (=thou art), &c., &c.
Contractions of another kind—partly due to careless casual pronunciation—include: ta’en (=taken) Wyatt 182; I’ll (=I will) Shak. Tempest, II. ii. 419; carry ’em (=carry them) id. 2 Hen. VI, I. iv. 76, &c.; Ma(d)am id. Gent. II. i. 6; in’s (=in his), doff (=do off), dout (=do out), o’ the (=of the), w’us (=with us), let’s (=let us), thou’rt (=thou art), &c., &c.
Finally, we have to mention the apocopation, for metrical reasons, of unaccented prefixes, as ’bove (above), ’cause (because), ’longs (belongs), &c., which on the whole cannot easily be misunderstood.[139]
Finally, we need to mention the shortening, for rhythm reasons, of unaccented prefixes, like ’bove (above), ’cause (because), ’longs (belongs), etc., which on the whole can't easily be misunderstood. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
§ 112. A contrast to these various forms of shortening is presented by the lengthening of words for metrical purposes, which we have already in part discussed in the preceding chapter (see for examples § 87). Disyllabic words are made trisyllabic by inserting an e (or rarely i) between mute and liquid, e.g., wond(e)rous, pilg(e)rim, count(e)ry, breth(e)ren, ent(e)rance, child(e)ren, Eng(e)land, troub(e)lous, light(e)ning, short(e)ly, jugg(e)ler, &c.[140]
§ 112. A contrast to these different ways of shortening words is the lengthening of words for metrical reasons, which we've already partially covered in the previous chapter (see for examples § 87). Disyllabic words become trisyllabic by adding an e (or sometimes i) between a mute and a liquid, such as wond(e)rous, pilg(e)rim, count(e)ry, breth(e)ren, ent(e)rance, child(e)ren, Eng(e)land, troub(e)lous, light(e)ning, short(e)ly, jugg(e)ler, &c.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
Among the monosyllabic words or accented endings of words which admit of a disyllabic pronunciation for the sake of metre we have mainly to consider such as have a diphthong in their root, as our, sour, devour, hour, desire, fire, ire, sire, hire, squire, inquire, &c., or such as approach diphthongal pronunciation and therefore admit of being treated as disyllables, e.g., dear, fear, hear, near, tear, clear, year. The disyllabic use of words of the latter class is very rare, though a striking example is afforded by the rhyme see her: clear Mrs. Browning, iii, p. 57. Some other words, phonetically analogous to these, but popularly apprehended as containing a simple long vowel, as fair, fare, are, here, there, rare, sphere, were, more, door, your, are added to the list by Abbott, but with doubtful correctness (cf. Metrik, ii. 115–17).
Among the one-syllable words or words with stressed endings that can be pronounced with two syllables for the sake of meter, we mainly need to look at those that have a diphthong in their root, like our, sour, devour, hour, desire, fire, ire, sire, hire, squire, inquire, etc., or those that nearly have a diphthongal pronunciation and can therefore be treated as having two syllables, such as dear, fear, hear, near, tear, clear, year. The two-syllable use of words from the latter group is very rare, although a notable example is seen in the rhyme see her: clear (Mrs. Browning, iii, p. 57). Some other words that sound similar to these but are commonly understood as having a single long vowel, like fair, fare, are, here, there, rare, sphere, were, more, door, your, are included in the list by Abbott, but their correctness is questionable (cf. Metrik, ii. 115–17).
CHAPTER VIII
WORD-ACCENT
§ 113. In discussing the English Word-accent and its relationship to rhythmic accent it is necessary to consider the Middle English and the Modern English periods separately, for two reasons. First, because the inflexional endings which play an important part in Middle English are almost entirely lost in Modern English, and secondly, because the word-accent of the Romanic element of the language differs considerably in the Middle English period from what it became in Modern English. In the treatment of each period it will be convenient to separate Germanic from Romanic words.
§ 113. When discussing the English word accent and its connection to rhythmic accent, it's important to look at the Middle English and Modern English periods separately for two reasons. First, the inflectional endings that are significant in Middle English are mostly gone in Modern English. Second, the word accent of the Romance elements of the language is quite different in the Middle English period compared to what it became in Modern English. In analyzing each period, it will be useful to separate Germanic from Romance words.
I. Word-accent in Middle English.
A. Germanic words. The general laws of Germanic accentuation of words, as existing in Old English, have been mentioned above (cf. §§ 18, 19). The same laws are binding also for Middle English and Modern English.
A. Germanic words. The general rules of Germanic word stress, as they were in Old English, have been mentioned above (cf. §§ 18, 19). These same rules also apply to Middle English and Modern English.
The main law for all accentual versification is this, that verse-accent must always coincide with word-accent. This holds good for all even-beat kinds of verse, as well as for the alliterative line.
The main rule for all accentual verse is that the verse accent must always match the word accent. This applies to all types of even-beat verses, as well as to the alliterative line.
The language in all works of the same date and dialect, in whatever kinds of verse they may be written, must obey the same laws of accentuation. For this reason the results derived from the relation in which the word-accent and the metrical value of syllables stand to the verse-accent, with regard to the general laws of accentuation, and especially those of inflexional syllables, must be the same for the language of all even-beat kinds of verse as for that of the contemporary alliterative line, or the verse of Layamon’s Brut and other works written in a similar form of verse and derived from the ancient native metre.
The language used in all works from the same time period and region, regardless of the type of verse they're written in, has to follow the same rules of accentuation. Because of this, the way the word accent and the metrical value of syllables relate to the verse accent, in terms of the general rules of accentuation—especially for inflectional syllables—must be consistent across all types of even-beat verse, just like it is for the contemporary alliterative line, or in Layamon’s Brut and other works written in a similar style derived from the ancient native meter.
Now, when we wish to ascertain the state of accentuation of forms of words no longer spoken the evidence supplied by the even-beat rhythms is especially valuable. This is so, chiefly because it is much more difficult to make the word-accent agree with the verse-accent in this kind of rhythm, in which it is essential that accented and unaccented syllables should alternate continuously, than in the alliterative line, which allows greater freedom both in the relative position of accented and unaccented syllables and in the numerical proportion between the unaccented and the accented syllables.
Now, when we want to determine the stress patterns of words that are no longer in use, the evidence from even-beat rhythms is especially valuable. This is mainly because it's much harder to align word stress with verse stress in this type of rhythm, where alternating stressed and unstressed syllables is crucial, compared to the alliterative line, which offers more flexibility in the positioning of stressed and unstressed syllables and the ratio of unstressed to stressed syllables.
In the alliterative line the position of the rhythmic accent depends on the accent of the words which make up the verse. In the even-beat metres on the other hand the regular succession of thesis and arsis is the ruling principle of the versification, on which the rhythmic accent depends, and it is the poet’s task to choose his words according to that requirement. The difficulties to be surmounted in order to bring the word-accent into conformity with the verse-accent will frequently drive the poet using this kind of rhythm to do violence to the accented and, more frequently still, to the unaccented syllables of the word. He will be induced either to contract the unaccented syllables with the accented ones, or to elide the former altogether, or to leave it to the reader to make the word-accent agree with the verse-accent by making use of level stress, or by slurring over syllables, or by admitting disyllabic or even polysyllabic theses in a verse. On the other hand, the poet who writes in the native alliterative long line or in any of its descendants is allowed as a rule to use the words required for his verse in their usual accentuation or syllabic value, or at least in a way approximating very closely to their ordinary treatment in prose. Hence those unaccented syllables which, in even-beat rhythms, are found to be subjected to the same treatment (i.e. to be equally liable to slurring, elision, syncopation, or apocopation, according to the requirements of the verse) must be presumed to have been at least approximately equal in degree of accentual force.
In the alliterative line, the placement of the rhythmic accent relies on the accent of the words that form the verse. In even-beat meters, however, the regular alternation of stressed and unstressed syllables is the main principle of the verse structure, and the rhythmic accent depends on this. It’s the poet’s job to select words that fit this requirement. The challenges of aligning the word-accent with the verse-accent often lead poets using this rhythm to manipulate both stressed and unstressed syllables. They might compress the unstressed syllables with the stressed ones, skip the unstressed syllables entirely, or leave it to the reader to adjust the word-accent to match the verse-accent through even stress, slurring syllables, or using two-syllable or even multi-syllable feet in a verse. Conversely, a poet writing in the traditional alliterative long line or its variations can usually use words in their natural accentuation or syllabic value, or at least in a way that closely resembles their common use in prose. Therefore, those unstressed syllables that, in even-beat rhythms, receive similar treatment (like being subject to slurring, elision, syncopation, or apocopation, depending on the verse’s needs) should be assumed to have had a comparable degree of accentual force.
Now when we examine the relation between word-accent and verse-accent in certain poetical works of the first half of the thirteenth century, viz. the Ormulum (which on account of its regularity of rhythm is our best guide), the Pater Noster, the Moral Ode, the Passion, and other poems, we arrive at the following results:—
Now when we look at the relationship between word stress and verse stress in certain poetic works from the first half of the thirteenth century, specifically the Ormulum (which is our best guide due to its consistent rhythm), the Pater Noster, the Moral Ode, the Passion, and other poems, we come to the following results:—
§ 114. The difference in degree of stress among inflexional endings containing an e (sometimes i or another vowel) which is alleged by some scholars—viz. that such endings (in disyllabic words) have secondary stress when the root-syllable is long, and are wholly unaccented when it is short—has no existence: in both cases the endings are to be regarded as alike unaccented. For we find that in even-beat measures(especially in the Ormulum) these endings, whether attached to a long or to a short root-syllable, are treated precisely alike in the following important respects:—
§ 114. The difference in the level of stress among inflectional endings that include an e (sometimes i or another vowel) is claimed by some scholars—specifically, that such endings (in two-syllable words) receive secondary stress when the root-syllable is long, and are completely unstressed when it is short—does not actually exist: in both situations, the endings should be considered equally unstressed. For we see that in even-beat measures (especially in the Ormulum), these endings, whether attached to a long or short root-syllable, are treated exactly the same in the following important respects:—
1. Those inflexional endings which normally occur in the thesis, and which are naturally suited for that position, are found in the arsis only in an extremely small number of instances, which must undoubtedly be imputed to lack of skill on the part of the poet, as e.g. in hallȝhé Orm. 70, nemmnéd ib. 75, whereas this is very frequent in those disyllabic compounds, the second part of which really has a secondary accent, as e.g. larspéll ib. 51, mannkínn ib. 277.
1. The inflectional endings that typically appear in the thesis and are suited for that position are found in the arsis only in a very small number of cases, which must certainly be attributed to the poet's lack of skill, such as in hallȝhé Orm. 70, nemmnéd ib. 75. However, this is quite common in disyllabic compounds where the second part has a secondary accent, like in larspéll ib. 51, mannkínn ib. 277.
2. It is no less remarkable, however, that such syllables as those last mentioned, which undoubtedly bear a secondary accent, are never used by Orm to form the catalectic end of the septenary verse, evidently because they would in consequence of their specially strong accent annul or at least injure the regular unaccented feminine verse-ending. On the other hand, inflexional endings and unaccented terminations containing an e are generally used for that purpose, as on account of their lightness of sound they do not endanger in any way the feminine ending of the catalectic section of the verse. In any case, inflexional syllables following upon long root-syllables cannot have the same degree of stress, and cannot be used for the same rhythmic functions, as the end-syllables of disyllabic compounds, which undoubtedly bear a secondary accent.
2. It is still impressive, though, that the syllables mentioned earlier, which clearly have a secondary accent, are never used by Orm to complete the truncated end of the seven-syllable line. This is likely because their noticeably strong accent would contradict or at least disrupt the regular unaccented feminine ending of the verse. Conversely, inflectional endings and unaccented endings containing an e are usually used for this purpose since their lighter sound does not compromise the feminine ending of the unfinished part of the verse. In any case, inflectional syllables that follow long root syllables cannot have the same level of stress, and cannot perform the same rhythmic roles, as the end syllables of two-syllable compounds, which undoubtedly have a secondary accent.
The regular rhythmic employment of the two last-mentioned groups of syllables proves their characteristic difference of stress—the former being wholly unaccented, the latter bearing a secondary accent. Further inquiry into the irregular rhythmic employment of the two similar classes of inflexional endings, those following upon long root-syllables, and those following upon short ones, tends to prove no less precisely that they do not differ in degree of stress, and so that they are both unaccented. For it is easy to show that with regard to syncope, apocope, elision, and slurring they are treated quite in the same way.
The regular rhythmic use of the last two groups of syllables highlights their distinct stress patterns—the first group has no accent, while the second has a secondary accent. Further investigation into the irregular rhythmic use of the two similar types of inflectional endings, those that follow long root syllables and those that follow short ones, shows that they similarly do not differ in stress level, meaning that both are unaccented. It’s easy to demonstrate that they are treated the same way in terms of syncope, apocope, elision, and slurring.
Elision of the final -e before a vowel or an h takes place quite in the same way in those inflexional syllables following upon long root-syllables as it does in those less numerous syllables which follow upon short ones, e.g. Annd ȝétt ter tákenn marẹ inóh Orm. 37; Wiþþ állẹ swillc rímẹ alls hér iss sétt ib. 101; For áll þat ǽfrẹ onn érþẹ is néd ib. 121; a wíntrẹ and éc a lóre Moral Ode 1; Wel lóngẹ ic hábbe chíld ibíen ib. 3; Icc háfẹ itt dón forrþí þatt áll Orm. 115, &c. It is the same with apocopation: Forr gluternésse wácneþþ áll Galnésses láþe strénncþe, Annd állẹ þe flǽshess kággerleȝȝc Annd álle fúle lússtess Orm. 11653–6; cf. also: þatt hé wass hófenn úpp to kíng ib. 8450, and wass hófenn úpp to kínge ib. 8370; o fáderr hállf ib. 2269, and o fáderr hállfe 2028, &c.; similarly with syncopation, cf. ȝiff þú seȝȝst tátt ib. 5188, and annd séȝȝest swíllc ib. 1512; þet scúlen bén to déaþe idémd Moral Ode 106; for bétere is án elmésse bifóren ib. 26, &c.; and again with the slurring of syllables following upon long as well as upon short root-syllables, as the following examples occurring in the first acatalectic sections of septenary verse will show sufficiently: Ál þet bétste þét we héfden Moral Ode 51; Gódes wísdom ís wel míchel ib. 213, &c.
Elision of the final -e before a vowel or an h happens in the same way in those inflectional syllables that follow long root-syllables as it does in the fewer syllables that follow short ones, e.g. Annd ȝétt ter tákenn marẹ inóh Orm. 37; Wiþþ állẹ swillc rímẹ alls hér iss sétt ib. 101; For áll þat ǽfrẹ onn érþẹ is néd ib. 121; a wíntrẹ and éc a lóre Moral Ode 1; Wel lóngẹ ic hábbe chíld ibíen ib. 3; Icc háfə itt dón forrþí þatt áll Orm. 115, &c. It is the same with apocopation: Forr gluternésse wácneþþ áll Galnésses láþe strénncþe, Annd állẸ þe flǽshess kággerleȝȝc Annd álle fúle lússtess Orm. 11653–6; cf. also: þatt hé wass hófenn úpp to kíng ib. 8450, and wass hófenn úpp to kínge ib. 8370; o fáderr hállf ib. 2269, and o fáderr hállfe 2028, &c.; similarly with syncopation, cf. ȝiff þú seȝȝst tátt ib. 5188, and annd séȝȝest swíllc ib. 1512; þet scúlen bén to déaþe idémd Moral Ode 106; for bétere is án elmésse bifóren ib. 26, &c.; and again with the slurring of syllables following both long and short root-syllables, as the following examples in the first acatalectic sections of septenary verse will show sufficiently: Ál þet bétste þét we héfden Moral Ode 51; Gódes wísdom ís wel míchel ib. 213, &c.
Now as a syllable bearing a secondary accent cannot become mute, as an unaccented syllable does, if required, it is evident that those inflexional syllables which follow upon long root-syllables and frequently do become silent cannot bear that secondary accent which has been ascribed to them by several scholars; on the contrary, all syllables subject in the same way to elision, apocope, syncope, and slurring must have the same degree of stress (i.e. they must be alike unaccented) whether preceded by short or by long root-syllables.
Now, a syllable with a secondary accent can't go mute like an unaccented syllable can if needed. It's clear that those inflectional syllables that follow long root syllables and often become silent can't actually take on that secondary accent that some scholars have attributed to them. Instead, all syllables that are similarly affected by elision, apocope, syncope, and slurring must carry the same level of stress (i.e., they should all be unaccented), whether they come after short or long root syllables.
Other terminations of disyllabic words which, though not inflexional, consist, like the inflexional endings, of e + consonant, are treated in the same way, e.g. words like fader, moder, finger, heven, sadel, giver, &c. Only those inflexional and derivational endings which are of a somewhat fuller sound, as e.g., -ing, -ling, -ung, -and, -ish, and now and then even the comparative and superlative endings -er, -est, and the suffixes -lic, -lich, -ly, -y, may be looked upon as bearing a secondary accent, as they may be used at will either in the arsis of the verse or lowered to the state of unaccented syllables as the thesis.
Other endings of two-syllable words that aren't inflectional but consist, like inflectional endings, of e + consonant are handled the same way, e.g., words like father, mother, finger, heaven, saddle, giver, etc. Only those inflectional and derivational endings that have a somewhat fuller sound, like -ing, -ling, -ung, -and, -ish, and occasionally even the comparative and superlative endings -er, -est, and the suffixes -lic, -lich, -ly, -y, can be seen as carrying a secondary accent, as they can be used either in the stressed part of the verse or lowered to the level of unstressed syllables as the unstressed part.
§ 115. In a trisyllabic simple word the root-syllable, of course, has the primary accent, and of the two following syllables, that which has the fuller sound, has the secondary accent, as in áskedèst, wrítìnge, dággère, clénnèsse, híèste. If, however, the two last syllables are equally destitute of word-accent, as e.g. in clepede, lufede, they are both metrically unaccented; and, as mentioned before (cf. § 96), may be shortened either to lufde, clepte, or to lufed, cleped. If they are used, however, as trisyllables in the iambic rhythm they naturally admit of the metrical accent on the last syllable.
§ 115. In a simple three-syllable word, the root syllable has the main accent, while of the two following syllables, the one with the stronger sound gets the secondary accent, as in áskedèst, wrítìnge, dággère, clénnèsse, híèste. However, if the last two syllables don’t have any accent, like in clepede, lufede, both are metrically unaccented; and as mentioned earlier (cf. § 96), they can be shortened to either lufde, clepte, or lufed, cleped. When used as three-syllable words in iambic rhythm, they naturally take the metrical accent on the last syllable.
It is the same with compounds of nouns or adjectives. The first syllable takes the chief accent, and of the two others that has the secondary accent which is the root-syllable of the second part of the compound, as in fréendshìpe, shírrève, but wódecràft, bóldelỳ.
It’s the same with combinations of nouns or adjectives. The first syllable gets the main emphasis, and of the other two syllables, the one that has the secondary emphasis is the root syllable of the second part of the combination, like in fréendshìpe, shírrève, but wódecràft, bóldelỳ.
In verbal compounds the primary accent, in conformity with the Old English usage, generally rests on the root-syllable of the verb, while the first and last syllable are mostly unaccented, as e.g. alihten, bisechen, forgiven, ibidden, ofþunchen. In denominatives, which in Old English have the primary accent on the first syllable, as e.g. ándswarian, both kinds of accentuation are allowed: ánswere and answére.
In verbal compounds, the main stress usually falls on the root syllable of the verb, following Old English patterns, while the first and last syllables tend to be unstressed, like in alihten, bisechen, forgiven, ibidden, ofþunchen. In denominative forms, which in Old English place the main stress on the first syllable, such as ándswarian, both types of stress are acceptable: ánswere and answére.
In disyllabic and trisyllabic compounds of nouns with certain prefixes, partly accented in Old English, as e.g. al-, un-, for-, mis-, y-, a-, bi-, the primary accent does not rest on these syllables, but on the second syllable, this being the root-syllable of the word, e.g. almíhti, forgétful, unhéele, bihéeste; the first syllable in this case bears a secondary accent if it has a determinative signification, as e.g. al-, mis-, un-, but it is unaccented if it is indifferent to the meaning, as e.g. a-, y-, bi-
In compounds with two or three syllables made up of nouns and certain prefixes, some of which had partial accents in Old English, such as al-, un-, for-, mis-, y-, a-, bi-, the main accent does not fall on these prefixes. Instead, it rests on the second syllable, which is the root syllable of the word, like in almíhti, forgétful, unhéele, bihéeste. The first syllable will carry a secondary accent if it has a meaningful role, as with al-, mis-, un-, but it remains unaccented if it doesn’t contribute to the meaning, as in a-, y-, bi-.
§ 116. A peculiar rhythmical position is held by those words which we may call parathetic compounds.[141] To these belong certain compound nouns formed by two words of almost the same weight from a syntactical and metrical point of view, as e.g. goodman, goodwyf, longswerd, and also by similar composite particles, as e.g. elleswhere, also, into, unto. Although the regular colloquial pronunciation was probably in the Middle English period, as it is in Modern English, with the accent on the first syllable, they may be pronounced with the accent on the second syllable, or at least with level stress, as e.g. goodmán, alsó, intó, &c. To this class also belong certain compounds of adverbs with prepositions, as e.g. herein, therefore, thereof, the only difference being that the usual accent rests here on the last syllable, but may be placed also on the first, as in hereín and hérein, thereóf and théreof, &c.
§ 116. A unique rhythmic position is held by the words we can call parathetic compounds.[141] This group includes certain compound nouns made up of two words that are nearly equal in weight both syntactically and metrically, like goodman, goodwyf, longswerd, as well as similar composite particles, such as elleswhere, also, into, unto. While the typical spoken pronunciation during the Middle English period was likely similar to Modern English, placing the accent on the first syllable, these can also be pronounced with the accent on the second syllable or with equal stress, as in goodman, alsó, intó, etc. This category also includes certain compounds of adverbs combined with prepositions, such as herein, therefore, thereof, where the usual accent typically falls on the last syllable, but can also be placed on the first, as in hereín and hérein, thereóf and théreof, etc.
§ 117. These gradations of sound in the different words regulate their rhythmical treatment in the verse. In disyllabic words as a rule the syllable with the primary accent is placed in the arsis of the verse, the other syllable, whether it be an unaccented one, or have a secondary accent, is placed in the thesis. Such words as those described in the preceding section may much more easily be used with level stress than others. In that case the rhythmical accent rests on the syllable which has the secondary accent, while the syllable which in ordinary speech has the chief accent is used as a thesis.
§ 117. The variations in sound in different words determine how they are rhythmically treated in verse. Typically, in two-syllable words, the syllable with the main accent goes in the strong part of the verse, while the other syllable, whether it's unaccented or has a secondary accent, goes in the weak part. Words like those mentioned earlier can be used with a consistent stress more easily than others. In this case, the rhythmic accent falls on the syllable with the secondary accent, while the syllable that usually carries the main accent is treated as weak.
The ordinary as well as the abnormal use of one and the same word will be illustrated by the following example:—
The regular and unusual use of the same word will be shown by the following example:—
With regard to the rhythmical treatment of trisyllables two classes of such words are to be distinguished, namely, (1) those in which the syllable bearing the primary accent is followed or (rarely) preceded by a syllable bearing a secondary accent, as e.g. gódspèlles, énglìshe, and (2) those in which the syllable bearing the primary accent is preceded or followed by a syllable wholly unaccented, as e.g. bigínnen, òvercóme, crístendòm, wéathercòck. In the latter case level stress is hardly ever met with, as the natural word-accent would be interfered with to an intolerable extent by accentuations like cristéndom, weathércock, ovércome, bíginnén, fórgottén, béhavióur, &c.
When it comes to the rhythmic treatment of three-syllable words, there are two categories to consider: (1) those where the syllable with the main stress is followed or (rarely) preceded by a syllable with a secondary stress, such as gódspèlles, énglìshe, and (2) those where the syllable with the main stress is preceded or followed by a syllable that has no stress, such as bigínnen, òvercóme, crístendòm, wéathercòck. In the second case, consistent stress is rarely found, as the natural word accent would be disrupted too much by stresses like cristéndom, weathércock, ovércome, bíginnén, fórgottén, béhavióur, etc.
Words like these therefore can in regular iambic or trochaic verse be used only with their natural accentuation, and hence those syllables which either have the primary or the secondary accent are always placed in the arsis, and the unaccented ones in the thesis, e.g.: To wínnenn únnder Crísstenndóm Orm. Ded. 137; off þátt itt wáss bigúnnenn ib. 88; Though the séas thréaten, théy are mércifúl Shakesp. Temp. V. 178; Ónly compóund me wíth forgótten dúst id. 2 Hen. IV, IV. v. 116, &c. On the other hand, when primary and secondary accent occur in two adjacent syllables level stress is very common, in Middle English, especially between the first and the second syllable, as godspélles hállȝhe láre Orm. 14, more rarely between the second and the third syllable, as þa Góddspelléss neh álle ib. 30; it also occurs in Chaucer’s poems, as For thóusandés his hóndes máden dýe Troil. v. 1816; in the same way Modern English words are treated to fit the rhythm, as e.g. mídsùmmer, faíntheàrted, in Farewéll, fáint-héarted ánd degénerate kíng Shak. 3 Hen. VI. I. i. 138; And górgeous ás the sún at mídsummér 1 Hen. IV, IV. i. 102. With the more recent poets this latter kind of rhythmical accentuation becomes the more usual of the two, although the nature and the meaning of the compound word always play an important part in such cases.
Words like these can only be used with their natural stress in regular iambic or trochaic verse. The syllables with either primary or secondary stress always go in the arsis, while the unstressed ones go in the thesis, e.g.: To wínnenn únnder Crísstenndóm Orm. Ded. 137; off þátt itt wáss bigúnnenn ib. 88; Though the séas thréaten, théy are mércifúl Shakesp. Temp. V. 178; Ónly compóund me wíth forgótten dúst id. 2 Hen. IV, IV. v. 116, &c. On the other hand, when primary and secondary stress occur in two adjacent syllables, even stress is quite common in Middle English, especially between the first and second syllable, like godspélles hállȝhe láre Orm. 14, and more rarely between the second and third syllable, as in þa Góddspelléss neh álle ib. 30; it's also found in Chaucer’s poems, like For thóusandés his hóndes máden dýe Troil. v. 1816; similarly, Modern English words are adapted to fit the rhythm, such as mídsùmmer, faíntheàrted, in Farewéll, fáint-héarted ánd degénerate kíng Shak. 3 Hen. VI. I. i. 138; And górgeous ás the sún at mídsummér 1 Hen. IV, IV. i. 102. With more recent poets, this kind of rhythmic stress becomes the more common of the two, although the nature and meaning of the compound word always have an important role in these cases.
With regard to their accentuation and metrical employment words of four syllables also fall into three classes: 1. Inflected forms of words belonging to the first group of trisyllables, like crístendómes, which can be used in the rhythm of the verse only with their natural accentuation; 2. words like fordémde (first and last syllable unaccented, the second syllable having the chief accent) with a determinative prefix, as e.g. únfordémde; these likewise are used in the rhythm of the verse according to their natural accentuation; 3. words of the third group with a prefix which either has the secondary accent, or is unaccented, as ùnwíslìce or iwítnèsse; the metrical usage of these is regulated according to the rules for the trisyllabic words. The same is to be observed with regard to words of five and six syllables like únderstándìnge, únimételiche, which, however, are only of rare occurrence.
Regarding their stress and meter, four-syllable words fall into three categories: 1. Inflected forms of words belonging to the first group of three-syllable words, like crístendómes, which can only be used in verse with their natural stress; 2. Words like fordémde (with the first and last syllables unstressed and the second syllable receiving the primary stress) that have a determinative prefix, such as únfordémde; these are also used in verse according to their natural stress; 3. Words from the third group with a prefix that either has a secondary stress or is unstressed, like ùnwíslìce or iwítnèsse; the metrical rules for these follow those for three-syllable words. The same applies to five- and six-syllable words like únderstándìnge and únimételiche, although these are rare.
§ 118. B. Romanic words. It was not till the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries that Romanic words passed in considerable numbers into the English language; and they were then accommodated to the general laws of accentuation of English. The transition, however, from Romanic to Germanic accentuation certainly did not take place at once, but gradually, and earlier in some districts and in some classes of society than in others; in educated circles undoubtedly later than amongst the common people. The accentuation of the newly introduced Romanic words thus being in a vacillating state, we easily see how the poets writing at that period in foreign even-beat rhythms, of whom Chaucer may serve as a representative, could use those words with whichever accentuation best suited their need at the moment, admitting the Romanic accentuation chiefly in rhymes, where it afforded them great facilities, and the usual Germanic accentuation mostly in the interior of the line. A few examples will suffice to illustrate this well-known fact. We arrange them in five classes according to the number of syllables in the words; the principles of metrical accentuation not being precisely identical in the several classes.
§ 118. B. Romantic words. It wasn't until the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries that a significant number of Romantic words entered the English language; and at that time, they were adapted to fit the general rules of English accentuation. However, the shift from Romantic to Germanic accentuation didn't happen all at once, but gradually, occurring earlier in some regions and among certain social groups than in others; in educated circles, it certainly happened later than among the common people. As the accentuation of these newly introduced Romantic words was still fluctuating, it’s easy to understand how poets of that time, who wrote in foreign even-beat rhythms, like Chaucer, could use those words with whatever accentuation suited their needs at the moment, adopting Romantic accentuation primarily in rhymes, where it offered them great flexibility, and the typical Germanic accentuation mostly in the body of the line. A few examples will be enough to illustrate this well-known fact. We will categorize them into five classes based on the number of syllables in the words; the principles of metrical accentuation vary slightly across the different classes.
Disyllabic words. I. Words whose final syllable is accented in French. They are used in even-beat rhythms (1) with the original accentuation, e.g. prisóun: raunsóun Kn. T. 317–18; pítouslý : mercý ib. 91–2; pitóus: móus Prol. 143–4; (2) with the accent on the first syllable according to the accentuation which had already become prevalent in ordinary English speech, e.g. This prísoun cáusede me Kn. T. 237; With hérte pítous ib. 95; But wé beséken mércy ánd socóur ib. 60.
Disyllabic words. I. Words where the last syllable is stressed in French. They're used in even-beat rhythms (1) with the original stress, e.g. prisóun: raunsóun Kn. T. 317–18; pítouslý : mercý ib. 91–2; pitóus: móus Prol. 143–4; (2) with the stress on the first syllable according to the accentuation that had already become common in everyday English speech, e.g. This prísoun cáusede me Kn. T. 237; With hérte pítous ib. 95; But wé beséken mércy ánd socóur ib. 60.
II. Words having in French the accent on the first syllable, the last syllable being unaccented. These words, partly substantives or adjectives, as people, nombre, propre, partly verbs, as praye, suffre, crie (in which case the accentuation of the sing. of the present tense prevails), are always used in verse with the original accentuation, the second unaccented syllable either (1) forming a full thesis of the verse, as in the péple préseth thíderward Kn. T. 1672; bý his própre gód Prol. 581, or (2) being elided or slurred and forming only part of the thesis, as in the nómbre and éek the cáuse ib. 716; and crýe as hé were wóod ib. 636.
II. Words in French that have the accent on the first syllable, with the last syllable unaccented. These words, some being nouns or adjectives, like people, nombre, propre, and some being verbs, like praye, suffre, crie (where the accentuation of the singular form of the present tense takes precedence), are always used in verse with the original accentuation. The second unaccented syllable either (1) forms a complete thesis of the verse, as in the péple préseth thíderward Kn. T. 1672; bý his própre gód Prol. 581, or (2) is elided or slurred and only partially forms the thesis, as in the nómbre and éek the cáuse ib. 716; and crýe as hé were wóod ib. 636.
As a rule also the original and usual accent is retained by disyllabic words containing an unaccented prefix, as in accord, abet, desyr, defence, &c. Only words composed with the prefix dis- occur with either accentuation, as díscreet and discréet.
As a general rule, disyllabic words that have an unaccented prefix typically keep their original and usual accent, like in accord, abet, desyr, defence, etc. The only words that can have either accentuation are those formed with the prefix dis-, such as díscreet and discréet.
§ 119. Trisyllabic words. I. Words, the last syllable of which in French has the chief accent, the first having a secondary accent. In these words the two accents are transposed in English, so that the first syllable bears the chief accent, the last the secondary accent, and both of them as a rule receive the rhythmical accent: émperóur, árgumént. But if two syllables of such a word form a disyllabic thesis, generally the last syllable which has the secondary accent is lowered to the unaccented grade: árgument, émperour.
§ 119. Trisyllabic words. I. Words where the last syllable in French has the main accent, while the first syllable has a secondary accent. In these words, the two accents switch in English, so the first syllable gets the main accent, the last syllable gets the secondary accent, and both typically receive the rhythmic accent: émperóur, árgumént. However, if two syllables of such a word form a disyllabic thesis, usually the last syllable with the secondary accent is reduced to the unaccented grade: árgument, émperour.
II. Words which in French have the chief accent on the middle syllable, the last being unaccented. These are sometimes used with the original accentuation, mostly as feminine rhymes, e.g.: viságe: uságe Prol. 109–10; chére: manére ib. 139–40; penánce: pitánce ib. 233–4; poráille: vitáille ib. 247–8; prudénce: senténce ib. 305–6; offíce: áccomplíce Kn. T. 2005–6, &c.; more rarely in the interior of the verse, where the last syllable may either form a thesis as in Ál your plesánce férme and stáble I hólde Cl. T. 663, or part of it, being elided or slurred, as in The sáme lúst was híre plesánce alsó ib. 717. In other instances, mostly in the interior of the verse, they have the accent on the first syllable, the last being always elided or slurred: And sáugh his vísage was in anóther kýnde Kn. T. 543; He fél in óffice wíth a chámberléyn ib. 561.
II. Words that have the main accent on the middle syllable in French, with the last syllable being unaccented, are sometimes used with their original accentuation, mostly as feminine rhymes, for example: viságe: uságe Prol. 109–10; chére: manére ib. 139–40; penánce: pitánce ib. 233–4; poráille: vitáille ib. 247–8; prudénce: senténce ib. 305–6; offíce: áccomplíce Kn. T. 2005–6, &c.; more rarely in the middle of the verse, where the last syllable may either be a thesis as in Ál your plesánce férme and stáble I hólde Cl. T. 663, or part of it, being elided or slurred, as in The sáme lúst was híre plesánce alsó ib. 717. In other cases, mostly in the middle of the verse, they have the accent on the first syllable, with the last syllable always elided or slurred: And sáugh his vísage was in anóther kýnde Kn. T. 543; He fél in óffice wíth a chámberléyn ib. 561.
Verbs ending in -ice (-isse), -ishe, -ie, as e.g. chérisse, púnishe, stúdie, cárrie, tárrie, nearly always have the accent on the first syllable, the last syllable being elided or apocopated, except where it is strengthened by a final consonant, as e.g. chérishëd, tárriëd. If the first syllable of a trisyllabic word be formed by an unaccented particle, the root-syllable of the word, in this case the middle one, likewise retains the accent, as e.g. in despíse, remaíne.
Verbs that end in -ice (-isse), -ishe, -ie, such as cherish, punish, study, carry, tarry, usually have the accent on the first syllable, while the last syllable is often dropped or shortened, except when it is emphasized by a final consonant, like in cherished, tarried. If the first syllable of a three-syllable word is made up of an unaccented particle, the root syllable of the word, in this case the middle one, will still keep the accent, as seen in despise, remain.
§ 120. Four-syllable words of French origin when they are substantives or adjectives frequently have disyllabic or trisyllabic suffixes such as: -age, -iage, -ian, -iant, -aunce, -iance, -iaunce, -ence, -ience, -ient, -ier, -ioun, -ious, -eous, -uous, -ial, -ual, -iat, -iour, -ure, -ie (-ye). As most of these words already have a trochaic or iambic rhythm, they are used without difficulty in even-beat disyllabic verses, chiefly in rhymes, and then always with their full syllabic value, as e.g.: pílgrimáge: coráge Prol. 11–12; hóstelrýe: cómpanýe ib. 23–4; resóun: condícióun ib. 37–8; chývalrýe: cúrtesýe ib. 45–6; chívachíe: Pícardíe ib. 185–6; cónsciénce: réverénce ib. 141–2; tóun: conféssióun ib. 217–18; curát: licénciát 219–20; góvernáunce : chévysáunce ib. 291–2, &c. In the interior of a verse also the words not ending in an unaccented e are always metrically treated according to their full syllabic value, e.g.: That héeld opínyóun that pléyn delýt Prol. 337; Of hís compléxióun he wás sangwýn ib. 333. In those words, on the other hand, which end in an unaccented e, this vowel is in the interior of the verse generally elided or apocopated: no vílanýe is ít ib. 740; ín that óstelríe alíght ib. 720; So móche of dáliáunce and fáir langáge ib. 211; And ál was cónsciénce and téndre hérte ib. 150.
§ 120. Four-syllable words of French origin that are nouns or adjectives often have two- or three-syllable endings like: -age, -iage, -ian, -iant, -aunce, -iance, -iaunce, -ence, -ience, -ient, -ier, -ioun, -ious, -eous, -uous, -ial, -ual, -iat, -iour, -ure, -ie (-ye). Since most of these words already have a strong rhythm, they fit easily into even-beat two-syllable lines, especially in rhymes, maintaining their full syllable count, as in: pílgrimáge: coráge Prol. 11–12; hóstelrýe: cómpanýe ib. 23–4; resóun: condícióun ib. 37–8; chývalrýe: cúrtesýe ib. 45–6; chívachíe: Pícardíe ib. 185–6; cónsciénce: réverénce ib. 141–2; tóun: conféssióun ib. 217–18; curát: licénciát 219–20; góvernáunce: chévysáunce ib. 291–2, &c. Within a line, words that don’t end in an unstressed e are also treated according to their full syllable count, for example: That héeld opínyóun that pléyn delýt Prol. 337; Of hís compléxióun he wás sangwýn ib. 333. In contrast, words that end with an unstressed e typically have this vowel dropped or shortened in the middle of a line: no vílanýe is ít ib. 740; ín that óstelríe alíght ib. 720; So móche of dáliáunce and fáir langáge ib. 211; And ál was cónsciénce and téndre hérte ib. 150.
Further shortenings, however, which transform an originally four-syllable word into a disyllabic one, as in the present pronunciation of the word conscience, do not take lace in Middle English before the transition to the Modern English period. In Lyndesay’s Monarchie we meet with accentuations of this kind, as e.g.:
Further shortenings, however, that change a four-syllable word into a two-syllable one, like the current pronunciation of the word conscience, don't occur in Middle English before the shift to the Modern English period. In Lyndesay’s Monarchie, we come across these types of accents, for example:
In a similar way adjectives ending in -able and verbs ending in -ice, -ye adapt themselves to the disyllabic rhythm, and likewise verbs ending in -ine (Old French -iner); only it must be noticed that in the preterite and in the past participle verbs of the latter class tend to throw the accents on the antepenultimate and last syllables, e.g. enlúminéd, emprísonéd. Words of five syllables almost without exception have an iambic rhythm of themselves and are used accordingly in even-beat verses, as e.g. expériénce; the same is the case with words which have Germanic endings, like -ing, -inge, -nesse, e.g. discónfytýnge.
In a similar way, adjectives ending in -able and verbs ending in -ice, -ye adapt to a disyllabic rhythm. Likewise, verbs ending in -ine (from Old French -iner) follow this pattern. However, it's important to note that in the past tense and in the past participle, verbs of this latter class tend to place their accents on the antepenultimate and last syllables, e.g. enlúminéd, emprísonéd. Words with five syllables almost always have an iambic rhythm on their own and are used accordingly in even-beat verses, such as expériénce. The same applies to words with Germanic endings, like -ing, -inge, -nesse, for example, discónfytýnge.
The rhythmic accentuation of foreign proper names both in disyllables and in polysyllables varies. Thus we may notice the accentuations Junó, Plató, Venús, and, on the other hand, Júno, Pláto, Vénus; Arcíte, Athénes, and Árcíte, Áthenes; Antónie and Ántoníe. Wherever in such cases level stress may help to smooth the rhythm it certainly is to be assumed in reading.
The rhythmic emphasis on foreign names, whether they're two syllables or more, varies. For example, we see the emphases Junó, Plató, Venús, and on the other hand, Júno, Pláto, Vénus; Arcíte, Athénes, and Árcíte, Áthenes; Antónie and Ántoníe. When there are cases where consistent stress can help make the rhythm smoother, it's definitely something to consider while reading.
II. Word-accent in Modern English
§ 121. Modern English accentuation deviates little from that of the Old English and Middle English; the inflexional endings, however, play a much less important part; further, in many cases the Romanic accentuation of Middle English is still in existence, or at least has influence, in words of French or Latin origin. This is evident from many deviations in the rhythmic accentuation of such words from the modern accentuation which we here regard as normal, though it is to be noted that in the beginning of the Modern English epoch, i.e. in the sixteenth century, the actual accentuation in many cases was still in conformity with the earlier conditions.
§ 121. Modern English stress patterns are quite similar to those of Old English and Middle English; however, inflectional endings are much less significant now. Additionally, in many instances, the French-influenced stress patterns from Middle English still exist or at least have some influence on words derived from French or Latin. This is clear from the many differences in the stress patterns of these words compared to what we now consider normal, although it's important to note that at the start of the Modern English period, in the sixteenth century, the actual stress patterns in many cases still aligned with earlier forms.
Only these real and apparent anomalies are noticed here. We have first to consider the Romanic endings -ace, -age, -ail, -el, -ain, -al, -ance, -ence, -ant, -ent, -er, -ess (Old French -esse), -ice, -ile, -in, -on, -or, -our, -une, -ure, -y(e) (in disyllabic words). As the final e has become mute, all these endings are monosyllabic.
Only these real and apparent anomalies are discussed here. We first need to look at the Romantic endings -ace, -age, -ail, -el, -ain, -al, -ance, -ence, -ant, -ent, -er, -ess (Old French -esse), -ice, -ile, -in, -on, -or, -our, -une, -ure, -y(e) (in two-syllable words). Since the final e has become silent, all these endings are now one syllable.
In the works of the earlier Modern English poets some words ending in these syllables are only exceptionally used with the accent on the last syllable according to the Old French or Middle English accentuation, the Modern English accentuation being the usual one; others are employed more frequently or even exclusively with the earlier accentuation, e.g. paláce Sur. 174, bondáge Wyatt 224, traváil Sur. 82, Wyatt 19, certáin ib. 179, mountáin Sur. 37, chieftáin ib. 112, cristál Wyatt 156, presénce ib. 81, grievánce ib. 55, penánce ib. 209, balánce ib. 173, pleasánt ib. 130, tormént (subst.) ib. 72, fevér, fervóur ib. 210, mistréss ib. 109, richés ib. 209, justíce ib. 229, servíce ib. 177, engíne Sur. 130, seasón ib. 149, honóur ib. 166, armóur 148, colóur: therefóre Wyatt 6, terrór: succóur ib. 210, &c., fortúne: tune ib. 152, Sur. 115, measúre Wyatt 125, natúre: unsúre ib. 144, glorý: mercý ib. 208.
In the works of earlier Modern English poets, some words ending in these syllables are rarely used with the accent on the last syllable, following Old French or Middle English pronunciation, while Modern English pronunciation is the more common one. Others are used more frequently or exclusively with the older accentuation, e.g. palace Sur. 174, bondage Wyatt 224, travel Sur. 82, Wyatt 19, certain ib. 179, mountain Sur. 37, chieftain ib. 112, crystal Wyatt 156, presence ib. 81, grievance ib. 55, penance ib. 209, balance ib. 173, pleasant ib. 130, torment (noun) ib. 72, fever, fervor ib. 210, mistress ib. 109, riches ib. 209, justice ib. 229, service ib. 177, engine Sur. 130, season ib. 149, honor ib. 166, armor 148, color: therefore Wyatt 6, terror: succor ib. 210, &c., fortune: tune ib. 152, Sur. 115, measure Wyatt 125, nature: unsure ib. 144, glory: mercy ib. 208.
In almost all these cases and in many other words with the same endings this accentuation seems to be due to the requirements of the rhythm, in which case level stress must be assumed.
In almost all these cases and in many other words with the same endings, this emphasis appears to stem from the rhythm's needs, in which case we must assume a consistent stress pattern.
§ 122. It is the same with many other disyllabic words, especially those both syllables of which are almost of equal sound-value and degree of stress, as in cases in which two different meanings of one and the same word are indicated by different accentuation, a distinction not unfrequently neglected in the metrical treatment of these words.
§ 122. The same applies to many other two-syllable words, particularly when both syllables have almost equal sound-value and stress. This is also true when two different meanings of the same word are indicated by different stress patterns, a distinction that is often overlooked in how these words are handled in poetry.
So the following adjectives and participles are used by Shakespeare and other poets with variable accentuation: complete, adverse, benign, contrived, corrupt, despised, dispersed, distinct, distract, diverse, eterne, exact, exhaled, exiled, expired, express, extreme, famous, insane, invised, misplaced, misprised, obscure, perfect, profane, profound, remiss, secure, severe, sincere, supreme, terrene; and so are also the many adjectives and participles compounded with the prefix un-, as e.g. unborn, unchaste, unkind, &c. (cf. Alexander Schmidt, Shakespeare-Lexicon).
So the following adjectives and participles are used by Shakespeare and other poets with varying emphasis: complete, adverse, benign, contrived, corrupt, despised, dispersed, distinct, distract, diverse, eterne, exact, exhaled, exiled, expired, express, extreme, famous, insane, invised, misplaced, misprised, obscure, perfect, profane, profound, remiss, secure, severe, sincere, supreme, terrene; and so are also many adjectives and participles combined with the prefix un-, like unborn, unchaste, unkind, etc. (cf. Alexander Schmidt, Shakespeare-Lexicon).
Substantives and verbs are treated in a similar way, e.g. comfórt (subst.) Wyatt 14, recórd ib. 156, discórd Sur. 6, conflíct ib. 85, purcháse ib. 58, mischíef Wyatt 78, safeguárd ib. 212, Madáme ib. 149, proméss ib. 25. So also in Shakespeare (cf. Alexander Schmidt, l.c.): áccess, aspéct, commérce, consórt, contráct, compáct, edíct, instínct, outráge, precépts, cément, cónduct (vb.), cónfine, púrsue, rélapse (cf. Metrik, ii. § 62)
Substantives and verbs are handled in a similar way, e.g. comfórt (noun) Wyatt 14, recórd ib. 156, discórd Sur. 6, conflíct ib. 85, purcháse ib. 58, mischíef Wyatt 78, safeguárd ib. 212, Madáme ib. 149, proméss ib. 25. Also in Shakespeare (see Alexander Schmidt, l.c.): áccess, aspéct, commérce, consórt, contráct, compáct, edíct, instínct, outráge, precépts, cément, cónduct (verb), cónfine, púrsue, rélapse (see Metrik, ii. § 62)
§ 123. Trisyllabic and polysyllabic words, too, of French or Latin origin are still used frequently in the beginning of the Modern English period with an accentuation contrary to present usage. Words e.g. which now have the chief accent on the second syllable, the first and third syllable being unaccented, are often used with the rhythmical accents on these two syllables, e.g.: cónfessór Meas. IV. iii. 133, cóntinúe Wyatt 189; départúre ib. 129; répentánce ib. 205, éndeavóur ib. 232; détestáble John III. iv. 29, rhéumatíc Ven. 135, &c. Likewise in words the first and third syllables of which are now accented and the second unaccented, the rhythmical accent is placed on this very syllable, e.g. charácter Lucr. 807, confíscate Cymb. V. v. 323, contráry Wyatt 8, impórtune Ant. IV. xv. 19, oppórtune Temp. IV. i. 26, perséver All’s Well IV. ii. 37, prescíence Troil. I. iii. 199, siníster Troil. IV. v. 128. Certain verbs also in -ise, -ize are used with fluctuating accentuation; Shakespeare e.g. always has advértise Meas. i. 142, authórise Sonn. 35, canónize Troil. II. ii. 202; sometimes also solémnize Temp. v. 309 (cf. Metrik, ii. §§ 64, 65).
§ 123. Trisyllabic and polysyllabic words of French or Latin origin are still commonly used at the start of the Modern English period with an emphasis different from today's usage. For instance, words that currently place the main stress on the second syllable, with the first and third syllables being unstressed, were often pronounced with rhythmic accents on those two syllables, such as: cónfessór Meas. IV. iii. 133, cóntinúe Wyatt 189; départúre ib. 129; répentánce ib. 205, éndeavóur ib. 232; détestáble John III. iv. 29, rhéumatíc Ven. 135, &c. Similarly, for words where the first and third syllables are currently stressed and the second is not, the rhythmic stress is placed on that syllable, e.g. charácter Lucr. 807, confíscate Cymb. V. v. 323, contráry Wyatt 8, impórtune Ant. IV. xv. 19, oppórtune Temp. IV. i. 26, perséver All’s Well IV. ii. 37, prescíence Troil. I. iii. 199, siníster Troil. IV. v. 128. Some verbs ending in -ise and -ize also showed varying stress; for example, Shakespeare consistently uses advértise Meas. i. 142, authórise Sonn. 35, canónize Troil. II. ii. 202; at times also solémnize Temp. v. 309 (cf. Metrik, ii. §§ 64, 65).
Foreign proper names especially in many cases are subject, as in earlier times, to variable accentuation, as e.g.: Ajáx Sur.129, Cæsár Wyatt 191, Cató ib. 191, the more usual accentuation also occurring in the writings of the same poets; similarly Átridés Sur. 129 and Atríde ib. 116, Cárthages ib. 149 and Cartháge 175. Shakespeare has always the unclassical Andrónicus, Hypérion, Cleopátra, but for rhythmical reasons Nórthamptón Rich. III, II. iv. 1 instead of Northámpton, and so in several other cases (cf. Metrik, ii. § 67)
Foreign proper names, especially in many situations, still have variable pronunciation, just like in the past. For example: Ajáx Sur.129, Cæsár Wyatt 191, Cató ib. 191, with more common pronunciations also found in the writings of the same poets; likewise Átridés Sur. 129 and Atríde ib. 116, Cárthages ib. 149 and Cartháge 175. Shakespeare always uses the less classical Andrónicus, Hypérion, Cleopátra, but for rhythmic reasons he uses Nórthamptón in Rich. III, II. iv. 1 instead of Northámpton, and similarly in several other instances (cf. Metrik, ii. § 67)
§ 124. Amongst the Germanic vocables the parathetic compounds chiefly call for notice, as their accentuation in common speech also approaches level stress, and for this reason they may be used with either accentuation. This group includes compounds like moonlight, welfare, farewell, and some conjunctions, prepositions, and pronouns, as therefore, wherefore, something, nothing, sometimes, into, unto, towards, without, as e.g.: thérefore Wyatt 24, &c., therefóre ib. 42, nóthing Rich. II, II. ii. 12, nothíng Rich. III, I. i. 236, únto Sur. 125, untó Sur. 117 (cf. Metrik, ii. § 58).
§ 124. Among the Germanic words, the parathetic compounds are particularly noteworthy, as their pronunciation in everyday speech tends to have a level stress pattern, allowing them to be used with either type of emphasis. This group includes compounds like moonlight, welfare, farewell, along with some conjunctions, prepositions, and pronouns such as therefore, wherefore, something, nothing, sometimes, into, unto, towards, and without; for example: thérefore Wyatt 24, &c., therefóre ib. 42, nóthing Rich. II, II. ii. 12, nothíng Rich. III, I. i. 236, únto Sur. 125, untó Sur. 117 (cf. Metrik, ii. § 58).
Greater arbitrariness in the treatment of word-accent, explained best by the influence of Middle English usage, is shown in the rhythmical accentuation of the final syllable -ing in words like endíng: thing Wyatt 27; and of the suffixes -ness, -ly, -y, -ow, e.g. goodnéss: excéss Wyatt 206, free: trulý 147; borrów: sorrów: overthrów ib. 227. Less admissible still are such accentuations with the endings -er, -est, used on the whole only by the earlier Modern English poets, e.g. earnést Wyatt 11, aftér ib. 207, and least of all with inflexional endings, e.g. scornéd Sur. 170, causéth Wyatt 33 (cf. Metrik, ii. §§ 59–61).
Greater randomness in how word stress is treated, largely influenced by Middle English usage, is evident in the rhythmic stressing of the final syllable -ing in words like endíng: thing Wyatt 27; and in the suffixes -ness, -ly, -y, -ow, for example, goodnéss: excéss Wyatt 206, free: trulý 147; borrów: sorrów: overthrów ib. 227. Even less common are such stresses with the endings -er, -est, which are mostly found only in earlier Modern English poets, e.g. earnést Wyatt 11, aftér ib. 207, and least of all with inflectional endings, e.g. scornéd Sur. 170, causéth Wyatt 33 (cf. Metrik, ii. §§ 59–61).
As a rule, however, such unnatural accentuations can be avoided by assuming the omission of a thesis at the beginning or in the interior of a line. With regard to trisyllabic and polysyllabic words the remarks on pp. 176–7 are to be compared.
As a general rule, though, you can avoid these unnatural stresses by thinking of leaving out a thesis at the beginning or in the middle of a line. For comments on three-syllable and multi-syllable words, refer to pages 176–7.
DIVISION II
Verse Forms Common to the Middle and Modern English Periods
CHAPTER IX
LINES OF 8 FEET, 4 FEET, 2 FEET,
AND 1 FOOT
§ 125. Among the metres introduced into Middle English poetry in imitation of foreign models, perhaps the oldest is the four-foot verse, rhyming in couplets. This metre may be regarded as having originally arisen by halving the eight-foot line, although only an isolated example of this, dating from about the middle of the thirteenth century, quoted above (p. 127), is known in Middle English poetry. This, however, serves with special clearness to illustrate the resolution, by means of inserted rhyme, of the eight-foot long-line couplet into four-foot lines rhyming alternately (cf. § 78).
§ 125. Among the meters introduced into Middle English poetry, likely the oldest is the four-foot verse, which rhymes in couplets. This meter can be seen as originally coming from splitting the eight-foot line in half, although only one example of this, dating from around the middle of the thirteenth century, quoted above (p. 127), is known in Middle English poetry. This example clearly shows how the eight-foot long-line couplet can be resolved into four-foot lines that rhyme alternately by adding rhyme (cf. § 78).
In the manuscript the verses, though rhyming in long lines, are written as short lines, with intermittent rhyme a b c b d b e b, just as the example of Modern English eight-foot iambic verse, quoted before (p. 127), is found printed with this arrangement, as is indeed generally the case with most long-line forms of that type. This metre calls for no other remarks on its rhythmical structure than will have to be made with regard to the four-foot verse.
In the manuscript, the verses rhyme in long lines but are formatted as short lines, with alternating rhyme a b c b d b e b, similar to the example of Modern English eight-foot iambic verse mentioned earlier (p. 127). This layout is commonly used in many long-line forms of that type. There’s no need for additional comments on its rhythmic structure beyond what will be said about the four-foot verse.
§ 126. The four-foot line, rhyming in couplets, first appears in a paraphrase of the Pater Noster of the end of the twelfth century,[142] doubtless in imitation of the Old French vers octosyllabe made known in England by Anglo-Norman poets, such as Gaimar, Wace, Benoit, &c.
§ 126. The four-foot line, rhyming in couplets, first shows up in a paraphrase of the Pater Noster from the late twelfth century, [142] likely inspired by the Old French vers octosyllabe introduced in England by Anglo-Norman poets like Gaimar, Wace, Benoit, etc.
This French metre consists of eight syllables when the ending is monosyllabic, and nine when it is disyllabic.
This French meter has eight syllables when the ending is one syllable and nine when it's two syllables.
The lines are always connected in couplets by rhyme, but masculine and feminine rhymes need not alternate with one another.
The lines are always linked in pairs by rhyme, but masculine and feminine rhymes don’t have to alternate.
It is exactly the same with the Middle English four-foot line, except that the rising iambic rhythm comes out more clearly in it, and that, instead of the Romanic principle of counting the syllables, that of the equality of beats is perceptible, so that the equality of the number of syllables in the verses is not so strictly observed. Hence, all the deviations before mentioned from the strict formal structure of even-beat verses occur even in this early poem, and quite regularly constructed couplets are indeed but rare in it. Examples of this type are the following:
It’s the same with the Middle English four-foot line, except the rising iambic rhythm is more noticeable, and instead of following the Romanic principle of counting syllables, we can see a focus on equal beats, which means the number of syllables in the lines isn’t as strictly maintained. As a result, the deviations from the strict formal structure of even-beat verses appear even in this early poem, and consistently structured couplets are quite rare. Here are some examples of this type:
The first ten lines of the poem give a sufficient idea of the structure of the verse, and its characteristics:
The first ten lines of the poem provide a clear idea of the verse's structure and its features:
Here we find almost all the rhythmical licences to be found in even-beat metres. Thus we have suppression of the anacrusis in line 8 and again in two consecutive lines, such as 15, 16:
Here we find almost all the rhythmic licenses present in even-beat meters. Therefore, we have the omission of the anacrusis in line 8 and again in two consecutive lines, like 15 and 16:
and very often in the course of the poem, e.g. ll. 22, 29, 30, 37, &c., so that it acquires a loose, iambic-trochaic cadence; further, the absence of an unaccented syllable in the middle of the line (line 2); inversion of accent in line 9, and again in line 81, Láverd he ís of álle scáfte; two unaccented syllables at the beginning and in the interior of the verse in 4; light slurrings ll. 1, 3, 5; only ll. 7 and 10 are regularly constructed throughout. The same proportion of regular to irregular verses runs through the whole poem, in which, besides the licences mentioned, that of level stress is also often to be met with, especially in rhymes like wurþíng: héovenkíng 99–100; hatíng: king 193–4, 219–20; fóndúnge: swínkúnge 242–3.
and very often throughout the poem, for example, lines 22, 29, 30, 37, etc., it develops a loose, iambic-trochaic rhythm; furthermore, there's no unaccented syllable in the middle of line 2; inversion of accent occurs in line 9, and again in line 81, Láverd he ís of álle scáfte; two unaccented syllables appear at the beginning and in the middle of line 4; slight slurrings can be found in lines 1, 3, 5; only lines 7 and 10 are constructed regularly throughout. The same ratio of regular to irregular verses runs through the entire poem, in which, apart from the mentioned irregularities, the occurrence of level stress is also frequently found, especially in rhymes like wurþíng: héovenkíng 99–100; hatíng: king 193–4, 219–20; fóndúnge: swínkúnge 242–3.
§ 127. The treatment of the caesura in this metre also deserves, special mention, for this, as has already been stated, is one of the chief points in which the four-foot even-beat metre differs from the four-stress metre, as represented either by the old alliterative long line or by the later non-alliterating line. For there must be a caesura in every four-beat verse, and it must always be found in one definite place, viz. after the second beat next to any unaccented syllable or syllables that follow the beat, the line being thus divided into two rhythmically fairly equal halves. On the other hand, for the four-foot verse, not only in this, its earliest appearance, but in the rest of Middle and Modern English literature, the caesura is not obligatory, and when it does occur it may, theoretically speaking, stand in any place in the line, although it most frequently appears after the second foot, particularly in the oldest period.
§ 127. The way the caesura is handled in this meter is also worth noting. As mentioned earlier, this is one of the main ways that the four-foot even-beat meter differs from the four-stress meter, whether represented by the old alliterative long line or by the later non-alliterating line. There must be a caesura in every four-beat verse, and it has to be in a specific spot, specifically after the second beat next to any unaccented syllable or syllables that follow the beat, effectively splitting the line into two rhythmically fairly equal halves. On the other hand, in the four-foot verse, not only in its earliest appearance but throughout the rest of Middle and Modern English literature, the caesura is not required. When it does occur, it can, theoretically speaking, be placed anywhere in the line, although it most commonly appears after the second foot, especially in the earliest period.
(1) Monosyllabic or masculine caesura:
One-syllable or masculine pause:
(2) Disyllabic or feminine caesura, two kinds of which are to be distinguished, viz.
(2) Disyllabic or feminine caesura, two types of which should be distinguished, namely:
(a) Lyric caesura, within a foot:
(a) Lyric pause, within a foot:
(b) Epic caesura caused by a supernumerary unaccented syllable before the pause:
(b) An epic pause caused by an extra unaccented syllable before the break:
These three kinds of caesura, the last of which, it is true, we meet here only sporadically, may thus in four-foot verse also occur after, as well as in the other feet. Thus we find in the very first line, a lyrical caesura after the first foot:
These three types of caesura, the last of which we encounter here only occasionally, can also appear in four-foot verse after, as well as in the other feet. So, we see a lyrical caesura after the first foot in the very first line:
This, however, seldom happens in the oldest examples, in which caesuras sharply dividing the line are rare, enjambement being only seldom admitted. Examples of verses without caesuras are to be found, among others, in the following: Þúrh béelzebúbes swíkedóm 10, Intó þe þósternésse héllen 104. As a rule, in the four-foot verse as well as in French octosyllabics, a pause does not occur until the end, on account of the shortness of this metre, which generally only suffices for one rhythmic section, while in four-beat verse a regular division into two rhythmic sections, and consequently the constant occurrence of a caesura, is rendered possible by the greater number of unaccented syllables.
This rarely happens in the oldest examples, where strong pauses that divide the line are uncommon, and enjambment is only occasionally accepted. You can find examples of verses without caesuras in the following: Þúrh béelzebúbes swíkedóm 10, Intó þe þósternésse héllen 104. Generally, in four-foot verse and in French octosyllabics, a pause does not occur until the end because this meter is usually too short for more than one rhythmic section. In contrast, four-beat verse allows for a regular division into two rhythmic sections, which makes the presence of a caesura more common due to the larger number of unstressed syllables.
The end of the line may, in any order, have either a masculine rhyme, as in ll. 1–4, 9, 10, or a feminine rhyme, as in ll. 7 and 8. There occur besides, but seldom, trisyllabic rhymes, such as those in ll. 5–6, or súnegen: múnegen 141–2
The end of the line can have either a masculine rhyme, like in lines 1–4, 9, 10, or a feminine rhyme, like in lines 7 and 8, in any order. There are also, though rarely, trisyllabic rhymes, such as in lines 5–6, or súnegen: múnegen 141–2.
§ 128. This metre continued to be very popular in Middle and Modern English poetry, and is still extensively used. As a rule its structure constantly remained the same; nevertheless we may, in both periods, distinguish between two well-marked ways of treating it. It was, for instance, at the end of the thirteenth and in the first half of the fourteenth century, very freely handled in the North of England in the Surtees Psalter, further by Robert Mannyng in his Handlyng Sinne, and by Richard Rolle de Hampole in his Pricke of Conscience. Their treatment of this verse is characterized, for instance, by the remarkably frequent occurrence of two and even three unaccented syllables at the beginning and in the middle of the line, e.g.:
§ 128. This meter remained very popular in Middle and Modern English poetry and is still widely used today. Generally, its structure stayed the same; however, we can identify two distinct approaches to it during these periods. For example, at the end of the thirteenth century and in the first half of the fourteenth century, it was used quite freely in Northern England in the Surtees Psalter, as well as by Robert Mannyng in his Handlyng Sinne, and by Richard Rolle de Hampole in his Pricke of Conscience. Their handling of this verse is marked by the notably frequent use of two or even three unaccented syllables at the beginning and in the middle of the line, e.g.:
Other rhythmical licences, such as the omission of unaccented syllables in the middle of a verse, and inversion of accent, are frequent in these compositions. Level stress, on the other hand, for the most part is found only in rhyme, as shenshépe: kepe Hampole 380–1; come: boghsóme ib. 394–5.
Other rhythmic variations, like leaving out unaccented syllables in the middle of a line and switching the accent pattern, are common in these works. In contrast, level stress is mostly seen only in rhyme, as in shenshépe: kepe Hampole 380–1; come: boghsóme ib. 394–5.
The other extreme of strict regularity in the number of syllables is exhibited in another group of North English and Scottish compositions of the fourteenth century, such as the Metrical Homilies, the Cursor Mundi, Barbour’s Bruce, Wyntoun’s Chronykyl. The metrical licences most frequent here are level stress, suppression of the anacrusis, and the omission of unaccented syllables in the middle of the line, in the Metrical Homilies. The rhythm is, however, as a rule, strictly iambic, and the number of syllables eight or nine, according as the rhymes are masculine or feminine.
The other extreme of strict regularity in the number of syllables is shown in another group of North English and Scottish works from the fourteenth century, such as the Metrical Homilies, the Cursor Mundi, Barbour’s Bruce, and Wyntoun’s Chronykyl. The most common metrical licenses here are level stress, dropping the anacrusis, and skipping unaccented syllables in the middle of the line in the Metrical Homilies. However, the rhythm is generally strictly iambic, and the number of syllables is eight or nine, depending on whether the rhymes are masculine or feminine.
These are inter alia The Story of Genesis and Exodus, The Owl and Nightingale, The Lay of Havelok, Sir Orfeo, King Alisander, several compositions of Chaucer’s,[143] as, for instance, The Book of the Duchesse, The House of Fame, Gower’s Confessio Amantis, and others. The last work, as well as The Owl and Nightingale, is written in almost perfectly regular iambic verses, in which the syllables are strictly counted. The other compositions more frequently admit the familiar rhythmical licences and have a freer movement, but none to the same extent as the Pater Noster. In artistic perfection this metre presents itself to us in Chaucer, who was particularly skilful in employing and varying the enjambement. A short specimen from his House of Fame (ll. 151–74) will illustrate this:
These include, among others, The Story of Genesis and Exodus, The Owl and Nightingale, The Lay of Havelok, Sir Orfeo, King Alisander, and several works by Chaucer, such as The Book of the Duchesse, The House of Fame, Gower’s Confessio Amantis, and others. The last work, along with The Owl and Nightingale, is composed in nearly perfect regular iambic lines, where the syllables are carefully counted. The other works often allow more familiar rhythmic liberties and have a more relaxed flow, but none as much as the Pater Noster. In terms of artistic perfection, this meter is exemplified by Chaucer, who was particularly skilled in using and varying enjambment. A short example from his House of Fame (ll. 151–74) will illustrate this:
In these combinations the structure of the metre remains essentially the same, only there are in many poems more frequent instances of suppression of the anacrusis, so that the metre assumes a variable cadence, partly trochaic, partly iambic. At the end of the Middle English period the four-foot verse was, along with other metrical forms, employed by preference in the earlier dramatic productions, and was skilfully used by Heywood, among others, in his interlude, The Four P.’s.[144].
In these combinations, the structure of the meter stays basically the same, but many poems show more frequent instances of skipping the anacrusis, resulting in a variable rhythm that’s partly trochaic and partly iambic. By the end of the Middle English period, the four-foot verse, along with other metrical forms, was preferred in the early dramatic works and was skillfully used by Heywood and others in his interlude, The Four P.’s.[144].
§ 131. In he Modern English period this metre has also found great favour, and we may, as in the case of other metres, distinguish between a strict and a freer variety of it. The strict form was, and is, mostly represented in lyric poetry, in verses rhyming in couplets or in cross rhyme. The rhythm is generally in this case (since the separation between iambic and trochaic verse-forms became definitely established) strictly iambic, generally with monosyllabic rhymes.
§ 131. In the Modern English period, this meter has also gained significant popularity, and we can, like with other meters, differentiate between a strict and a more relaxed version. The strict form was, and still is, mostly seen in lyric poetry, with verses that rhyme in couplets or use cross rhyme. The rhythm in this case is generally strictly iambic, especially after the clear establishment of the separation between iambic and trochaic verse forms, typically featuring monosyllabic rhymes.
A greater interest attaches to the freer variety of the metre, which is to be regarded as a direct continuation of the Middle English four-foot verse, inasmuch as it was practised by the poets of the first Modern English period in imitation of earlier models, and has been further cultivated by their successors down to the most recent times. The characteristic feature in this treatment of the four-foot verse is the frequent suppression of the anacrusis, by which it comes to resemble the four-beat verse, along with which it is often used. But whilst the latter generally has an iambic-anapaestic or trochaic-dactylic structure, and is constantly divided by the caesura into two halves, the Modern English four-foot verse of the freer type has, as a rule, an alternately iambic and trochaic rhythm, with a rare occurrence of caesuras. Shakespeare and other dramatists often employ this metre for lyrical passages in their dramas. Of longer poems in the earlier period Milton’s L’Allegro and Il Penseroso are conspicuous examples.
A greater interest is attached to the freer style of meter, which can be seen as a direct continuation of the Middle English four-foot verse. This style was practiced by poets in the early Modern English period as they imitated earlier models, and it has been further developed by their successors up to the present day. The main feature of this approach to the four-foot verse is the frequent omission of the anacrusis, making it resemble the four-beat verse, with which it is often used. However, while the latter typically has an iambic-anapaestic or trochaic-dactylic structure and is regularly split by a caesura into two halves, the Modern English four-foot verse of the freer type usually has an alternating iambic and trochaic rhythm, with caesuras occurring rarely. Shakespeare and other playwrights often use this meter for lyrical passages in their plays. Among the longer poems from the earlier period, Milton’s L’Allegro and Il Penseroso stand out as notable examples.
The following passage from L’Allegro (ll. 11–16) may serve as a specimen:
The following passage from L’Allegro (ll. 11–16) may serve as a specimen:
The structure of the verse is essentially iambic, though the iambic metre frequently, by suppression of the initial theses, as in the thirteenth and fifteenth lines of this passage, falls into a trochaic cadence. Pure trochaic verses, i.e. those that begin with an accented syllable and end with an unaccented one, occur in these two poems, in couplets, only once, L’Allegro (ll. 69–70):
The verse is mainly in iambic meter, but it often shifts to a trochaic rhythm due to the dropping of the initial unstressed syllables, as seen in the thirteenth and fifteenth lines of this excerpt. There are pure trochaic verses, which start with a stressed syllable and end with an unstressed one, in these two poems, appearing in couplets just once, L’Allegro (ll. 69–70):
With masculine endings such couplets are frequent, e.g. Il Penseroso, 67–8:
With masculine endings, such couplets are common, for example, Il Penseroso, 67–8:
further, ll. 75–6, 81–2, 141–2, &c.
further, ll. 75–6, 81–2, 141–2, &c.
As a rule, pure iambic lines rhyme together, or an iambic with a line that has a trochaic cadence, as, for instance, in the above specimen, L’Allegro, 13–14 and 15–16.
As a rule, pure iambic lines rhyme with each other, or an iambic line rhymes with a line that has a trochaic rhythm, like in the examples given in L’Allegro, 13–14 and 15–16.
Besides initial truncation there also occur here the other metrical licences observed in iambic rhythm.
Besides the initial truncation, there are also other metrical liberties seen in iambic rhythm.
Lines 5–7 can be at once recognized as four-stress verses by the iambic-anapaestic rhythm, as well as by the strongly-marked caesura, which, in the four-foot verses 4, and especially 8 and 10, is entirely or almost entirely absent (cf. pp. 98–9); and both metrical forms, the calmer four-foot verse and the more animated four-stress metre, are in harmonious agreement with the tone of this passage.
Lines 5–7 can easily be seen as four-stress verses due to the iambic-anapaestic rhythm and the clear breaks in the line. In the four-foot verses 4, and especially 8 and 10, these breaks are completely or nearly absent (cf. pp. 98–9); both metrical styles, the smoother four-foot verse and the more lively four-stress meter, align well with the tone of this passage.
Four-foot lines, forming component parts of metrically heterogeneous types of stanzas, such, for instance, as the tail-rhyme stave, are generally more regularly constructed than in the Middle English period.
Four-foot lines, forming parts of different types of stanzas, like the tail-rhyme verse, are generally more consistently structured than during the Middle English period.
§ 133. Among the metrical forms which took their rise from the four-foot line, the most noteworthy are the two-foot and the one-foot verse, the former the result of halving the four-foot verse, the latter of dividing the two-foot verse, as a rule, by means of the rhyme. These verse-forms only seldom occur in the Middle English period, as a rule in anisometrical stanzas in connexion with verses of greater length. Thus, in the poem in Wright’s Specimens of Lyric Poetry, p. 38, composed in the entwined tail-rhyme stanza, the short lines have two accents: wiþóute stríf: y wýte, a wýf 10–12; in tóune tréwe: while ý may gléwe 4–6. The eighteen-lined enlarged tail-rhyme stave of the ballad, The Nut-brown Maid (Percy’s Reliques, iii. 6), also consists of two- and three-foot lines; in this case the two-foot lines may be conceived as the result of halving the first hemistich of the septenary line.
§ 133. Among the poetic forms that originated from the four-foot line, the most notable are the two-foot and one-foot verses. The two-foot verse is created by halving the four-foot verse, while the one-foot verse usually comes from dividing the two-foot verse, typically using rhyme. These verse forms appear rarely in the Middle English period, generally found in irregular stanzas alongside longer verses. For example, in the poem found in Wright’s Specimens of Lyric Poetry, p. 38, which is written in the intertwined tail-rhyme stanza, the short lines feature two accents: wiþóute stríf: y wýte, a wýf 10–12; in tóune tréwe: while ý may gléwe 4–6. The eighteen-lined extended tail-rhyme stanza of the ballad, The Nut-brown Maid (Percy’s Reliques, iii. 6), is composed of two- and three-foot lines; here, the two-foot lines can be seen as the result of halving the first hemistich of the seven-foot line.
In Modern English two-foot lines are also rare and are chiefly found in anisometrical stanzas. They do occur, however, here and there in isometrical poems, either written in couplets or in stanzas of lines rhyming alternately; as, for instance, in Drayton, An Amouret Anacreontic:
In modern English, two-foot lines are also uncommon and mainly appear in uneven stanzas. They can occasionally be found in even poems, either written in couplets or in stanzas with alternating rhymes; for example, in Drayton, An Amouret Anacreontic:
The commonest rhythmical licences are inversion of accent and initial truncation. In stanzas verses of this sort occur, for the most part it seems, with the rhyme-order a b c b, for instance in Burns, The Cats like Kitchen, and Moore, When Love is Kind, so that these verses might be regarded as four-foot lines rhyming in couplets.
The most common rhythmic liberties are accent inversion and initial truncation. In stanzas, these types of verses mainly follow the rhyme scheme a b c b, as seen in Burns’s The Cats like Kitchen and Moore’s When Love is Kind, meaning these verses can be considered four-foot lines that rhyme in couplets.
§ 134. One-foot lines, both with single and with double ending, likewise occur in Middle English only as component parts of anisometrical stanzas, as a rule as bob-verses in what are called bob-wheel staves; as, for instance, in a poem in Wright’s Songs and Carols (Percy Society, 1847), the line With áye rhyming with the three-foot line Aye, áye, I dár well sáy; in the Towneley Mysteries, the verse Alás rhyming with A góod máster he wás; in an Easter Carol (Morris, An Old Engl. Miscellany, pp. 197–9), the line So strónge rhyming with Jóye hím wit sónge, or In lónde and of hónde rhyming with Al with jóye þat is fúnde.
§ 134. One-foot lines, both single and double, appear in Middle English mainly as parts of uneven stanzas, usually as bob-verses in what's known as bob-wheel staves. For example, in a poem from Wright’s Songs and Carols (Percy Society, 1847), the line With áye rhymes with the three-foot line Aye, áye, I dár well sáy; in the Towneley Mysteries, the verse Alás rhymes with A góod máster he wás; in an Easter Carol (Morris, An Old Engl. Miscellany, pp. 197–9), the line So strónge rhymes with Jóye hím wit sónge, or In lónde and of hónde rhyme with Al with jóye þat is fúnde.
Metrical licences can naturally only seldom occur in such short lines.
Metrical licenses can naturally only happen rarely in such short lines.
One-foot iambic lines occur also in the Modern English period almost exclusively in anisometrical stanzas. A little poem entitled Upon his Departure hence, in Herrick’s Hesperides, may be quoted as a curiosity, as it is written in continuous one-foot lines of this kind, rhyming in triplets:
One-foot iambic lines also appear in the Modern English period mainly in uneven stanzas. A short poem called Upon his Departure hence, found in Herrick’s Hesperides, can be mentioned as an interesting example, as it is composed of continuous one-foot lines of this type, rhyming in triplets:
Passe bý
And díe
Unknówn
And góne
A sháde
And láid
There háve,
My cáve:
I dwéll.
Farewéll.
One-foot lines with feminine ending are employed by Moore as the middle member of the stanza in the poem Joys of Youth, how fleeting.
One-foot lines with a feminine ending are used by Moore as the central line of the stanza in the poem Joys of Youth, how fleeting.
CHAPTER X
THE SEVEN, THE ALEXANDRINE, AND THE THREE-FOOT LINE
§ 135. The Septenary is a favourite Middle English metre, going back to a Mediaeval Latin model. It cannot, however, be definitely determined whether this is to be found in the (accentual) catalectic iambic tetrameter, an example of which is preserved, among other instances, in the Planctus Bonaventurae (1221–74) printed by Mone in his Latin Hymns of the Middle Ages, which begins as follows:
§ 135. The Septenary is a popular Middle English meter that traces back to a Medieval Latin model. However, it’s unclear whether this is based on the (accentual) catalectic iambic tetrameter. One example of this can be found, among other instances, in the Planctus Bonaventurae (1221–74), as published by Mone in his Latin Hymns of the Middle Ages, which starts as follows:
or possibly in another Latin metre which was a far greater favourite with the Anglo-Norman Latin poets. This is the (accentual) brachycatalectic trochaic tetrameter, which frequently occurs, among other instances, in the poems ascribed to Walter Map, e.g. in the still popular verses:
or possibly in another Latin meter that was much more popular with the Anglo-Norman Latin poets. This is the (accentual) brachycatalectic trochaic tetrameter, which often appears, among other examples, in the poems attributed to Walter Map, such as in the still popular verses:
The result of an attempt to adopt this metre in Middle English might, on account of the preference of the language for iambic rhythm, very naturally be to transform it into the iambic catalectic tetrameter by the frequent addition of an unaccented opening syllable at the beginning of each half-line. Probably the latter verse-form was the model, as may be seen from Leigh Hunt’s Modern English translation of the Latin drinking-song just quoted.[145]
The effort to use this meter in Middle English likely led to a change into the iambic catalectic tetrameter because the language prefers iambic rhythm. This would happen by often adding an unaccented syllable at the start of each half-line. It’s likely that this verse form was the inspiration, as shown in Leigh Hunt’s Modern English translation of the Latin drinking song just quoted.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
Moreover, many mediaeval Latin verses also have a wavering rhythm resulting in a form at times characterized by level stress, e.g.
Moreover, many medieval Latin verses also have an inconsistent rhythm, resulting in a style that is sometimes marked by even stress, e.g.
The other common licences of even-beat metre which affect the rhythm of the line, the metrical value of syllables, and the word-accent, also occur in the Moral Ode. Suppression of the anacrusis is very often met with; it occurs, for instance, in the first hemistich, in lines 1 and 4 above; in the second hemistich, ér ic hít iwíste l. 17, in both, þó þet hábbeð wél idón | éfter híre míhte, l. 175; so that a pure iambic couplet seldom occurs, although the iambic rhythm is, on the whole, predominant. The omission of unaccented syllables in the middle of the line is also often found (although many verses of this kind probably require emendation), as Ne léve nó mán to múchel 24; also in the second hemistich, as and wól éche dede 88. Transpositions of the accent are quite usual at the beginning of the first as well as of the second hemistich: Elde me ís bestólen ón 17; síððen ic spéke cúðe 9. Level stress is also not absent: For bétere is án elmésse bifóre 28. We often meet with elision, apocope, syncope, slurring of syllables, and the use of a disyllabic thesis both at the beginning of the line and in other positions: þo þet wél ne dóeþ þe wíle he múȝe 19; nís hit búte gámen and glíe 188. A noteworthy indication of want of skill in the handling of the Septenary in this first attempt is the frequent occurrence of a superfluous syllable at the close of the first hemistich, which should only admit of an acatalectic ending, e.g.: Hé scal cúme on úuele stéde | búte him Gód beo mílde 26; Eíðer to lútel ánd to múchel | scal þúnchen éft hem báthe 62, &c. The end of the second hemistich, on the other hand, in accordance with the structure of the metre, is in this poem always catalectic.
The other common licenses of even-beat meter that influence the rhythm of the line, the metrical value of syllables, and the word accent can also be found in the Moral Ode. The suppression of the anacrusis is frequently seen; for example, it occurs in the first half-line, in lines 1 and 4 above; in the second half-line, ér ic hít iwíste l. 17, and in both, þó þet hábbeð wél idón | éfter híre míhte, l. 175; thus, a pure iambic couplet rarely appears, although the iambic rhythm generally dominates. The omission of unaccented syllables in the middle of the line is also common (though many verses of this type likely need correction), as seen in Ne léve nó mán to múchel 24; also in the second half-line, as in and wól éche dede 88. Transpositions of the accent are quite typical at the beginning of both the first and second half-lines: Elde me ís bestólen ón 17; síððen ic spéke cúðe 9. Level stress is also present: For bétere is án elmésse bifóre 28. We often encounter elision, apocope, syncope, slurring of syllables, and the use of a disyllabic thesis both at the beginning of the line and in other places: þo þet wél ne dóeþ þe wíle he múȝe 19; nís hit búte gámen and glíe 188. A noteworthy sign of a lack of skill in handling the Septenary in this first attempt is the frequent appearance of an extra syllable at the end of the first half-line, which should only allow for an acatalectic ending, e.g.: Hé scal cúme on úuele stéde | búte him Gód beo mílde 26; Eíðer to lútel ánd to múchel | scal þúnchen éft hem báthe 62, &c. The end of the second half-line, on the other hand, in keeping with the structure of the meter, is always catalectic in this poem.
§ 137. The irregularity of the structure of the Septenary rhyming line of the Moral Ode stands in marked contrast with the regularity of the rhymeless Septenary verse of the Ormulum. The first hemistich here is always acatalectic, the second catalectic, and the whole line has never more nor less than fifteen syllables.
Hence the only metrical licences that occur here are elision, syncope, and apocope of the unaccented e of some inflexional endings, and the very frequent admission of level stress in disyllabic and polysyllabic words, which are to be found in all places in the line:
Hence, the only metrical licenses that occur here are the dropping of sounds, loss of syllables, and omission of the unaccented e in some inflectional endings, along with the common acceptance of level stress in two-syllable and multi-syllable words, which can be found throughout the line:
In all such cases, in the versification of Orm, whose practice is to count the syllables, there can only be a question of level stress, not of inversion of accent. Ennglisshe at the beginning of the second hemistich of the above line, 322, is no more an example of inversion of rhythm than in the hemistich Icc háfe wénnd inntill Ennglíssh l. 13
In all these cases, in Orm's verse, which counts syllables, the question only pertains to level stress, not the inversion of accent. Ennglisshe at the start of the second half of the line 322 is no more an example of rhythmic inversion than in the half-line Icc háfe wénnd inntill Ennglíssh l. 13.
In some works of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries the Septenary was, however, employed in a fairly unmixed form, as, for instance, in the Lives of Saints, ed. Furnivall, 1862, the Fragment of Popular Science, ed. Wright in Popular Treatises on Science, London, 1841, and several others.
In some works from the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, the Septenary was used in a fairly pure form, like in the Lives of Saints, edited by Furnivall in 1862, the Fragment of Popular Science, edited by Wright in Popular Treatises on Science, London, 1841, and several others.
The most important deviation from the Septenary of Orm and of the Moral Ode is the frequent occurrence of long lines with a masculine instead of the usual feminine ending. Both forms are to be found in the opening lines of the Fragment of Popular Science:
The biggest difference from the Septenary of Orm and the Moral Ode is the regular use of long lines ending with a masculine rhyme instead of the typical feminine ending. Both forms can be found in the opening lines of the Fragment of Popular Science:
It may fairly be assumed that the structure of the Alexandrine (which, according to French models, might have either a masculine or a feminine ending) may have greatly furthered the intrusion of monosyllabic feet into the Septenary verse, although the gradual decay of the final inflexions may likewise have contributed to this end. For the rest, all the rhythmic licences of the Septenary occurring in the Moral Ode are also to be met with here; as, for instance, the suppression of the anacrusis in the first hemistich of l. 4 of the passage quoted, and in the second of l. 2, and the omission of the unaccented syllable in the second hemistich of the fourth line, the inversion of accent and disyllabic thesis in the first hemistich of the third line, and other licences, such as the anapaestic beginning of the line, &c., in other places in these poems (cf. Metrik, i, p. 246)
It can reasonably be assumed that the structure of the Alexandrine (which, based on French models, could have either a masculine or a feminine ending) may have significantly encouraged the use of monosyllabic feet in the Septenary verse, although the slow decline of the final inflections may have also played a role. Additionally, all the rhythmic liberties of the Septenary found in the Moral Ode are present here as well; for example, the absence of the anacrusis in the first hemistich of line 4 of the quoted passage, and in the second of line 2, along with the omission of the unstressed syllable in the second hemistich of the fourth line, the reversal of accent and two-syllable thesis in the first hemistich of the third line, and other flexibilities, like the anapaestic start of the line, etc., in other parts of these poems (cf. Metrik, i, p. 246)
§ 139. In lyrical poems of this time and in later popular ballad poetry the Septenary is employed in another manner, namely, in four-lined stanzas of four- and three-foot verse, rhyming crosswise, each of which must be looked on as consisting of pairs of Septenaries with middle rhyme inserted (interlaced rhyme), as is clearly shown by the Latin models of these metrical forms quoted above (p. 192). Latin and English lines are thus found connected, so as to form a stanza, in a poem of the fifteenth century:
§ 139. In lyrical poems from this time and later popular ballads, the Septenary is used differently, in four-line stanzas with four- and three-foot verses, rhyming alternately. Each stanza should be seen as made up of pairs of Septenaries with a middle rhyme added (interlaced rhyme), as clearly demonstrated by the Latin examples of these verse forms mentioned earlier (p. 192). Thus, Latin and English lines are connected to form a stanza in a poem from the fifteenth century:
In many lyrical poems of the older period some stanzas rhyme in long lines, others rhyme in short lines, which shows the gradual genesis of the short-lined metre, rhyming throughout. Thus, in the poem in Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. P., p. 90, the opening verses of the first stanza rhyme in long lines:
In many lyrical poems from earlier times, some stanzas rhyme with longer lines while others rhyme with shorter lines, highlighting the slow development of the short-lined meter with consistent rhyming. For example, in the poem from Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. P., p. 90, the opening verses of the first stanza rhyme in longer lines:
whereas those of the second rhyme in short lines:
whereas those of the second rhyme are in short lines:
Instances of this kind are frequent; but the four lines of the single stanzas are never completely rhymed throughout as short-lines, as, for instance, is the case in the opening parts or ‘frontes’ of the stanzas of the poems in Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. P., pp. 27 and 83, the lines of which are far more regularly constructed. The rhymes are in these compositions still generally disyllabic.
Instances like this happen often; however, the four lines of the single stanzas are never fully rhymed as short lines, unlike what we see in the opening sections or ‘frontes’ of the stanzas in Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. P., on pages 27 and 83, where the lines are much more consistently structured. The rhymes in these works are usually still two-syllable.
The metrical structure of the old ballads The Battle of Otterborn and Chevy Chase is similar to that of the poem just quoted. In those ballads some original long lines are provided with middle rhyme, others not, so that the stanzas partly rhyme according to the formula a b c b, partly according to the formula a b a b. The versification is, moreover, very uneven, and the endings are, as a rule, if not without exception, masculine:
The meter of the old ballads The Battle of Otterborn and Chevy Chase is similar to that of the poem just quoted. In those ballads, some original long lines have a middle rhyme, while others do not, resulting in stanzas that partially rhyme according to the pattern a b c b and partially according to the pattern a b a b. The verse is also quite uneven, and the endings are, as a rule, masculine if not always so:
The ballads of the end of the Middle English period are generally composed in far more regular lines or stanzas. The feminine endings of the Septenary are, however, as a rule replaced by masculine endings, whether the lines rhyme crosswise or only in the three-foot verses. Cf. the ballad, The Lady’s Fall (Ritson, ii. 110), which, however, was probably composed as late as the Modern English period:
The ballads from the end of the Middle English period typically have much more regular lines or stanzas. However, the feminine endings of the Septenary are usually replaced by masculine endings, whether the lines rhyme alternately or only in the three-foot verses. See the ballad, The Lady’s Fall (Ritson, ii. 110), which was likely composed as late as the Modern English period:
In the long-lined form this metre occurs at the beginning of this period in poems of some length, as, for instance, in William Warner’s Albion’s England, and in Chapman’s translation of the Iliad. Here, too, the ending of the line is almost without exception masculine, and the rhythm, on the whole, pretty regular, although this regularity, especially in Chapman, is, in accordance with the contemporary practice, only attained by alternate full pronunciation and slurring of the same syllables (Romanic -ion, -ious, &c., and Germanic -ed, &c.) and by inversion of accent. The caesura is always masculine at the end of the first hemistich, but masculine or feminine minor caesuras are often met with after the second or in the third foot, sometimes also after the first or in the second:
In the long-lined form, this meter appears at the start of this period in longer poems, such as William Warner’s Albion’s England and Chapman’s translation of the Iliad. The end of the lines is almost always masculine, and the rhythm is generally quite regular, although this regularity, especially in Chapman’s work, is achieved through the contemporary practice of alternating between fully pronouncing and slurring the same syllables (Romanic -ion, -ious, etc., and Germanic -ed, etc.) and accent inversion. The caesura is always masculine at the end of the first hemistich, but masculine or feminine minor caesuras are often found after the second foot or in the third foot, and sometimes also after the first or in the second:
Secondary caesuras also occur, though less frequently, in other places in the line, particularly in the second hemistich:
Secondary caesuras also happen, but less often, in other parts of the line, especially in the second half:
These last examples suffice to show the rich variety of the caesura, which may be referred perhaps to the influence of blank verse, in the management of which Chapman displays great skill, and to the frequent use which he makes of the enjambement. Rhyme-breaking also sometimes occurs in his verse. Occasionally three consecutive lines rhyme together, as in W. Warner, whose versification is otherwise extremely regular, similar to that of lyrical poetry. In this branch of poetry the Septenary, with the simple rhyme-order a b c b and especially with the more artistic form a b a b, has continued to be very popular from the time of Wyatt down to the present day. The three-foot line has naturally in most instances a masculine ending, but lines also occasionally occur with feminine rhyme. In many poems the feminine rhyme is, moreover, regularly employed in this metre; as, for instance, in Burns’s To John Taylor (p. 158):
These last examples are enough to show the rich variety of the caesura, which may be attributed to the influence of blank verse, in which Chapman demonstrates great skill, and to his frequent use of enjambment. Rhyme-breaking also sometimes appears in his verse. Occasionally, three consecutive lines rhyme together, as in W. Warner, whose style is otherwise extremely regular, similar to that of lyrical poetry. In this type of poetry, the Septenary, with the simple rhyme scheme a b c b and especially with the more artistic form a b a b, has remained very popular from the time of Wyatt to the present day. The three-foot line typically has a masculine ending, but lines with feminine rhyme also occur occasionally. In many poems, feminine rhyme is regularly used in this meter; for example, in Burns’s To John Taylor (p. 158):
In ballad poetry, on the other hand, the Septenary metre tends to assume a somewhat freer construction, similar to, though not so capricious as that in the old ballads edited by Percy. A well-known example is offered by Coleridge’s Rime of the Ancient Mariner:
In ballad poetry, however, the septenary meter often takes on a more flexible structure, resembling, though less whimsical than, that found in the old ballads edited by Percy. A famous example is Coleridge’s Rime of the Ancient Mariner:
Two unaccented opening syllables and two unaccented syllables in the middle of the line are, in particular, often met with.
Two unaccented opening syllables and two unaccented syllables in the middle of the line are, in particular, often found.
§ 141. The Septenary in combination with other metres. After its occurrence in the Moral Ode and the Ormulum the Septenary, as we have seen, appears at first very seldom by itself, but generally in connexion with other metres, especially the old long line in its freer development, the four-foot metre (though more rarely), and, particularly, the Alexandrine.
§ 141. The Septenary combined with other meters. After appearing in the Moral Ode and the Ormulum, the Septenary, as we've noted, shows up at first very rarely on its own, but mostly in combination with other meters, especially the traditional long line in its more flexible form, the four-foot meter (though less frequently), and, notably, the Alexandrine.
The Middle English Alexandrine was constructed on the model of the Old French Alexandrine—except for the use of Teutonic licences in even-beat rhythm—and it thus possessed four different types, which the following examples from On god Ureison of ure Lefdi[146] may serve to illustrate. We give the corresponding Old French metrical types from the Roman d’Alixandre (Bartsch, Chrestomathie de l’ancien français, p. 175).
The Middle English Alexandrine was based on the Old French Alexandrine—except for the use of Germanic variations in even rhythm—and it had four distinct types, which the following examples from On god Ureison of ure Lefdi[146] can illustrate. We provide the corresponding Old French metrical types from the Roman d’Alixandre (Bartsch, Chrestomathie de l’ancien français, p. 175).
a. Masculine caesura with masculine line-ending:
Masculine caesura with masculine line-ending:
b. Feminine (epic) caesura with masculine line-ending:
b. Feminine (epic) pause with masculine line-ending:
c. Masculine caesura with feminine line-ending:
Masculine pause with feminine ending:
d. Feminine (epic) caesura with feminine line-ending:
d. Feminine (epic) caesura with a feminine line-ending:
Alexandrines of this sort, particularly of the last type, are found in a group of poems of the close of the twelfth, or beginning of the thirteenth century, intermingled with Septenaries, and also, though more seldom, combined with four-beat alliterative rhyming long lines and with four-foot verses. Such poems are On god Ureison of ure Lefdi (quoted above), A lutel soth sermon (Old English Miscellany, ed. R. Morris, pp. 186 ff.), and A Bestiary (ib. pp. 1–25).
Alexandrines like these, especially the last type, can be found in a collection of poems from the late twelfth or early thirteenth century, mixed in with Septenaries, and also, though less frequently, combined with four-beat alliterative rhyming long lines and four-foot verses. Such poems include On god Ureison of ure Lefdi (mentioned above), A lutel soth sermon (Old English Miscellany, ed. R. Morris, pp. 186 ff.), and A Bestiary (ib. pp. 1–25).
The following lines from A lutel soth sermon may serve to illustrate this mixture:
The following lines from A lutel soth sermon may help to illustrate this mix:
Here we have Septenaries (ll. 1, 4, 7) and Alexandrines (ll. 2, 3, 5, 6, 8) intermixed in ll. 1–8, eight-foot long lines resolved by means of sectional rhyme into four-foot lines in ll. 9–12, and four-beat rhyming alliterative long lines of the freer type in ll. 13–16. The easy intermixture of metres may be explained by the fact that in all these different long-lined metrical forms four principal stresses are prominent amid the rest, as we have indicated by accents (´).
Here we have Septenaries (ll. 1, 4, 7) and Alexandrines (ll. 2, 3, 5, 6, 8) mixed in lines 1–8, eight-foot lines broken down through sectional rhyme into four-foot lines in lines 9–12, and four-beat rhyming alliterative long lines in a more flexible style in lines 13–16. The smooth blending of meters can be explained by the fact that in all these different long-lined metrical forms, four principal stresses stand out amidst the others, as we've marked with accents (´).
§ 142. In the Bestiary this mixture of metrical forms has assumed still greater proportions, inasmuch as alongside of the long-lined rhyming Septenaries and alliterative long lines there are found also Layamon’s short-lined rhyming verses and Septenary lines resolved into short verses by middle rhyme.
The following passages may more closely illustrate the metrical construction of this poem; in the first place, ll. 384–97:
The following passages might better show the meter of this poem; first, lines 384–97:
Here we have unmistakable long lines of the freer type.
Here we clearly have distinct long lines of the more relaxed style.
In other passages the alliterative long lines pass into Septenaries, as, for instance, ll. 273–98:
In other sections, the alliterative long lines shift into septenaries, like in lines 273–98:
In a third instance (ll. 628–35) Septenary and four-foot lines run into one another:
In a third instance (ll. 628–35), septenary and four-foot lines blend together:
In many passages in the poem one or other of these different types of verse occurs unmixed with others. Thus we have short couplets in the section 444–5; in ll. 1–39 alliterative rhymeless verse, occasionally of marked archaic construction, concluding with a hemistich (39) which rhymes with the preceding hemistich so as to form a transition to the following section (ll. 40–52), which again consists of four-foot and Septenary verses. These are followed by a section (ll. 53–87) in which four-foot and three-foot lines (that is to say, Alexandrines) rhyming in couplets are blended; and this is succeeded by a further section (ll. 88–119) mostly consisting of Septenaries resolved by the rhyme into short lines. (Cf. Metrik, i, §§ 79–84.)
In many parts of the poem, one type of verse appears without mixing with others. For example, there are short couplets in section 444–5; in lines 1–39, there is alliterative rhymeless verse, sometimes with an old-fashioned structure, ending with a half-line (39) that rhymes with the previous half-line, creating a transition to the next section (lines 40–52), which again consists of four-foot and seven-foot verses. This is followed by a section (lines 53–87) where four-foot and three-foot lines (that is, Alexandrines) that rhyme in couplets are combined; and this is then followed by another section (lines 88–119) mostly made up of seven-foot lines that are broken into shorter lines by rhyme. (Cf. Metrik, i, §§ 79–84.)
Hence we may say that the poet, in accordance with his Latin model (likewise composed in various metres), has purposely made use of these different metrical forms, and that the assertion made by Trautmann and others,[147] that the Septenary of the Ormulum and the Moral Ode, which is contemporary with Layamon, represents the final result of the development of Layamon’s verse (the freer alliterative long line), must be erroneous.
Therefore, we can say that the poet, following his Latin model (which was also written in various meters), intentionally used these different metrical forms. The claim made by Trautmann and others, that the Septenary of the Ormulum and the Moral Ode, which is contemporary with Layamon, represents the ultimate result of the development of Layamon’s verse (the more flexible alliterative long line), must be incorrect.
§ 143. In On god Ureison of ure Lefdi, on the other hand, the alliterative long lines play only an insignificant part, a part which is confined to an occasional use of a two-beat rhythm in the hemistichs and the frequent introduction of alliteration. Septenaries and Alexandrines here interchange ad libitum.
The following short passage (ll. 23–34) will suffice to illustrate these combinations of metres:
The following short passage (ll. 23–34) will be enough to show these combinations of meters:
Lines 26 and 34, perhaps also 25 and 30, are Septenaries, l. 28 is the only line of the poem which contains two beats in both hemistichs (hemistichs of this sort are further found in the first hemistich of ll. 3, 12, 44, 72, 77, and in the second of ll. 30, 45, 46, 52, and 70); the remaining lines of this passage are most naturally scanned as Alexandrines.
Lines 26 and 34, possibly also 25 and 30, are seven-beat lines. Line 28 is the only line of the poem that has two beats in both halves (this type of half-line also appears in the first half of lines 3, 12, 44, 72, 77, and in the second half of lines 30, 45, 46, 52, and 70); the other lines in this section are best understood as twelve-beat lines.
§ 144. Now, this unsystematic combination of Alexandrines and Septenaries is a metre which was especially in vogue in the Middle English period. In this metrical form two religious poems, The Passion of our Lord and The Woman of Samaria (Morris, Old English Miscellany), were composed so early as the beginning of the thirteenth century. From the first we quote ll. 21–4:
§ 144. This unstructured mix of Alexandrines and Septenaries is a meter that was particularly popular during the Middle English period. Two religious poems, The Passion of our Lord and The Woman of Samaria (Morris, Old English Miscellany), were written as early as the beginning of the thirteenth century. From the first, we quote lines 21–4:
Many lines of these poems may be scanned in both ways; in the third line of the preceding extract, for instance, we may either take the second syllable of the word ofsprung, in the manner of the usual even-beat rhythm, to form a thesis (in this case hypermetrical, yielding an epic caesura), or we may regard it as forming, according to ancient Germanic usage, a fourth arsis of the hemistich, which would then belong to a Septenary. At any rate, this scansion would, in this case, be quite admissible, as indeed the other licences of even-beat rhythm all occur here.
Many lines of these poems can be interpreted in both ways; in the third line of the previous excerpt, for example, we may either consider the second syllable of the word ofsprung, following the standard even-beat rhythm, to create a thesis (in this case hypermetrical, resulting in an epic caesura), or we might see it as forming, in line with ancient Germanic tradition, a fourth arsis of the hemistich, which would then fit into a Septenary. Regardless, this scansion would, in this case, be quite acceptable, as indeed the other licenses of even-beat rhythm all appear here.
It is in this metre that the South English Legends of Saints (Ms. Harleian 2277) and other poems in the same MS., as the Fragment on Popular Science (fourteenth century), are written. The same holds good for Robert of Gloucester’s Rhyming Chronicle (cf. Metrik, i, §§ 113, 114). Mätzner (in his Altengl. Sprachproben, p. 155), and Ten Brink (Literaturgeschichte, i, pp. 334, 345) concur in this opinion, while Trautmann (in Anglia, v, Anz., pp. 123–5), on a theory of metrical accentuation which we hold to be untenable, pronounces the verses to be Septenaries.
It is in this meter that the South English Legends of Saints (Ms. Harleian 2277) and other poems in the same manuscript, like the Fragment on Popular Science (fourteenth century), are written. The same applies to Robert of Gloucester’s Rhyming Chronicle (cf. Metrik, i, §§ 113, 114). Mätzner (in his Altengl. Sprachproben, p. 155), and Ten Brink (Literaturgeschichte, i, pp. 334, 345) agree with this view, while Trautmann (in Anglia, v, Anz., pp. 123–5), based on a theory of metrical accentuation that we consider invalid, claims the verses to be Septenaries.
The following passage (Mätzner, Altengl. Sprachproben, i, p. 155) may serve to illustrate the versification of Robert of Gloucester:
The following passage (Mätzner, Altengl. Sprachproben, i, p. 155) may serve to illustrate the versification of Robert of Gloucester:
§ 145. At the end of the thirteenth century the Septenary and Alexandrine were, however, relegated to a subordinate position by the new fashionable five-foot iambic verse. But we soon meet them again in popular works of another kind, viz. in the Miracle Plays, especially in some plays of the Towneley Collection, like the Conspiratio et Capcio (p. 182), and actually employed quite in the arbitrary sequence hitherto observed, Alexandrine sometimes rhyming with Alexandrine, Septenary with Septenary, but, more frequently, Alexandrine with Septenary. A passage from the Towneley Mysteries may make this clear:
§ 145. By the end of the thirteenth century, the Septenary and Alexandrine forms were pushed to a lower status by the trendy five-foot iambic verse. However, they reappeared in popular works of a different kind, particularly in the Miracle Plays, notably in some plays from the Towneley Collection, such as Conspiratio et Capcio (p. 182). They were used in the same arbitrary sequence as before, with Alexandrine occasionally rhyming with Alexandrine, Septenary with Septenary, but more often, Alexandrine with Septenary. A passage from the Towneley Mysteries can illustrate this:
This metre is also employed in many Moral Plays with a similar liberty in the succession of the two metrical forms.
This meter is also used in many Moral Plays with a similar freedom in the alternation of the two metrical forms.
But we may often observe in these works, as, for instance, in Redford’s Marriage of Wit and Science (Dodsley, ii, p. 325 sq.), that Alexandrines and Septenaries are used interchangeably, though not according to any fixed plan, so that sometimes the Septenary and sometimes the Alexandrine precedes in the couplet, as, for instance, in the last four lines of the following passage (Dodsley, ii, p. 386):
But we can often see in these works, like Redford’s Marriage of Wit and Science (Dodsley, ii, p. 325 sq.), that Alexandrines and Septenaries are used interchangeably, though not in any consistent way, so that sometimes the Septenary and sometimes the Alexandrine comes first in the couplet, as shown in the last four lines of the following passage (Dodsley, ii, p. 386):
§ 146. In other passages in this drama, e.g. in the speech of Wit, p. 359, this combination (Alexandrine with Septenary following) occurs in a sequence of some length. It existed, however, before Redford’s time, as a favourite form of stave, in lyrical as well as in narrative poetry, and was well known to the first Tudor English prosodists under the name of The Poulter’s Measure.[148]
§ 146. In other parts of this drama, like in the speech of Wit, p. 359, this combination (Alexandrine followed by Septenary) appears in a longer sequence. However, it was already popular before Redford’s time, used frequently in both lyrical and narrative poetry, and was well recognized by the early Tudor English prosodists as The Poulter’s Measure.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
The opening lines of Surrey’s Complaint of a dying Lover (p. 24) present an example of its cadence:
The opening lines of Surrey’s Complaint of a dying Lover (p. 24) show an example of its rhythm:
Brooke’s narrative poem Romeus and Juliet, utilized by Shakespeare for his drama of the same name, is in this metre. Probably the strict iambic cadence and the fixed position of the caesura caused this metre to appear especially adapted for cultured poetry, at a time when rising and falling rhythms were first sharply distinguished. It was, however, not long popular, though isolated examples are found in modern poets, as, for instance, Cowper and Watts. Thackeray uses it for comic poems, for which it appears especially suitable, sometimes using the two kinds of verse promiscuously, as Dean Swift had done before him, and sometimes employing the Alexandrine and Septenary in regular alternation.
Brooke’s narrative poem Romeus and Juliet, which Shakespeare used for his play of the same name, is written in this meter. The strict iambic rhythm and the set position of the caesura likely made this meter feel particularly suited for refined poetry, at a time when rising and falling rhythms were becoming clearly defined. However, it didn't remain popular for long, although you can find some isolated examples in modern poets, like Cowper and Watts. Thackeray uses it for humorous poems, where it seems especially fitting, sometimes mixing the two types of verse freely, similar to what Dean Swift had done before him, and at times using Alexandrine and Septenary in a regular alternation.
This metre was probably employed for the first time in Robert Mannyng’s translation of Peter Langtoft’s rhythmical Chronicle, partly composed in French Alexandrines. The four metrical types of the model mentioned above (p. 198) naturally also make their appearance here.
This meter was probably used for the first time in Robert Mannyng’s translation of Peter Langtoft’s rhythmic Chronicle, which was partly written in French Alexandrines. The four types of meter from the model mentioned above (p. 198) naturally appear here as well.
The Germanic licences incidental to even-beat rhythm are strikingly perceptible throughout.
The Germanic licenses related to even-beat rhythm are clearly noticeable throughout.
In the first line we have to note in both hemistichs suppression of the anacrusis, in the second either the omission of an unaccented syllable or lengthening of a word (Ing(e)lond). The second line has a regular structure: in the third the suppression of the anacrusis is to be noted and the absence of an unaccented syllable in the second hemistich. The last line has the regular number of syllables, but double inversion of accent in the first hemistich. A disyllabic thesis at the beginning or in the middle of the line also frequently occurs.
In the first line, we should observe that both halves omit the anacrusis; in the second, there's either the removal of an unstressed syllable or the lengthening of a word (Ing(e)lond). The second line has a consistent structure: in the third, we note the omission of the anacrusis and the lack of an unstressed syllable in the second half. The last line has the usual number of syllables, but there's a double inversion of stress in the first half. A two-syllable thesis often appears at the start or in the middle of the line as well.
There is less freedom of structure in the Alexandrine as used in the lyrical poems of this period, in which, however, the verse is generally resolved by middle rhyme into short lines, as may be seen from the examples in § 150.
There’s less freedom in the structure of the Alexandrine in the lyrical poems from this period, where, however, the verse is typically broken down by middle rhyme into shorter lines, as shown in the examples in § 150.
§ 148. The structure of the Alexandrine is, on the other hand, extremely irregular in the late Middle English Mysteries and the Early English Moral Plays, where, so far as we have observed, it is not employed in any piece as the exclusive metre, but mostly occurs either as the first member of the above-mentioned Poulter’s Measure, and occasionally in uninterrupted sequence in speeches of considerable length. We cannot therefore always say with certainty whether we have in many passages of Jacob and Esau (Dodsley’s Old Plays, ed. Hazlitt, vol. ii, pp. 185 ff.) to deal with four-beat lines or with unpolished Alexandrines (cf. Act II, Sc. i). In other pieces, on the other hand, the Alexandrine, where it appears in passages of some length, is pretty regularly constructed, as, for instance, in Redford’s Marriage of Wit and Science (Dodsley, ii, pp. 325 ff.), e.g. in Act II. Sc. ii (pp. 340–1):
§ 148. The structure of the Alexandrine is, however, quite irregular in the late Middle English Mysteries and the Early English Moral Plays. From what we’ve observed, it is not used as the main meter in any work, but mainly shows up as the first part of the previously mentioned Poulter’s Measure, and occasionally appears in a continuous sequence in lengthy speeches. Therefore, we can’t always be certain whether we’re looking at four-beat lines or rough Alexandrines in many sections of Jacob and Esau (Dodsley’s Old Plays, ed. Hazlitt, vol. ii, pp. 185 ff.) (see Act II, Sc. i). In other works, however, the Alexandrine appears more consistently throughout longer passages, as seen in Redford’s Marriage of Wit and Science (Dodsley, ii, pp. 325 ff.), for example in Act II. Sc. ii (pp. 340–1):
The caesura and close of the line are in this passage, which comprises eighteen lines, monosyllabic throughout.
The pause and end of the line are in this passage, which has eighteen lines, all using one-syllable words.
The Modern English Alexandrine is particularly distinguished from the Middle English variety by the fact that the four types of the Middle English Alexandrine are reduced to one, the caesura being regularly masculine and the close of the line nearly always so; further by the very scanty employment of the Teutonic rhythmical licences; cf. the opening lines of the Polyolbion (Poets, iii. pp. 239 ff.):
The Modern English Alexandrine is notably different from the Middle English version because the four types of the Middle English Alexandrine have been condensed into one, with the caesura usually being masculine and the end of the line almost always following suit. Additionally, there is minimal use of the Teutonic rhythmic freedoms; see the opening lines of the Polyolbion (Poets, iii. pp. 239 ff.):
Minor caesuras seldom occur, and generally in the second hemistich, as, e.g., minor lyric caesuras after the first foot:
Minor caesuras rarely happen, and typically in the second half of the line, as, for example, minor lyric caesuras after the first foot:
or masculine caesura after the second foot:
or masculine caesura after the second foot:
Enjambement is only sporadically met with; breaking of the rhyme still more seldom.
Enjambment is only occasionally found; the breaking of rhyme is even rarer.
Less significance is to be attached to the fact that Brysket, in a poem on Sidney’s death, entitled The Mourning Muse of Thestylis (printed with Spenser’s works, Globe edition, p. 563), makes Alexandrines rhyme together, not in couplets, but in an arbitrary order; further, that Surrey and Blennerhasset occasionally composed in similarly constructed rhymeless Alexandrines (cf. Metrik, ii, p. 83).
Less importance should be given to the fact that Brysket, in a poem about Sidney’s death called The Mourning Muse of Thestylis (included with Spenser’s works, Globe edition, p. 563), rhymes Alexandrines together not in couplets, but in a random order; also, that Surrey and Blennerhasset sometimes wrote similarly structured unrhymed Alexandrines (see Metrik, ii, p. 83).
Of greater importance is the structure of the Alexandrine when used as the concluding line of the Spenserian stanza and of its imitations.
Of greater importance is the structure of the Alexandrine when used as the final line of the Spenserian stanza and its imitations.
It is here noteworthy that the lyric caesura, unusual in Middle English, often occurs in Spenser after the first hemistich:
It’s worth noting that the lyric pause, which is rare in Middle English, often appears in Spenser after the first half of the line:
as well as in connexion with minor caesuras:
as well as in connection with minor pauses:
The closing line of the Spenserian stanza is similarly handled by other poets, such as Thomson, Scott, Wordsworth, while poets like Pope, Byron, Shelley, and others admit only masculine caesuras after the third foot. By itself the Alexandrine has not often been employed in Modern English.
The last line of the Spenserian stanza is treated in a similar way by other poets, like Thomson, Scott, and Wordsworth, while poets such as Pope, Byron, Shelley, and others only allow masculine pauses after the third beat. The Alexandrine hasn’t been commonly used in Modern English.
Connected in couplets it occurs in the nineteenth century in Wordsworth’s verse, e.g. in The Pet Lamb (ii. 149), and is in this use as well as in the Spenserian stanza treated by this poet with greater freedom than by others, two opening and medial disyllabic theses as well as suppression of anacrusis, being frequently admitted, while on the other hand the caesura and close of the verse are always monosyllabic.
Connected in couplets, this happens in the nineteenth century in Wordsworth’s poetry, for example, in The Pet Lamb (ii. 149). In this use, as well as in the Spenserian stanza, this poet treats the form with more freedom than others. Two opening and middle disyllabic theses, as well as the omission of anacrusis, are often included. On the other hand, the caesura and the end of the verse are always monosyllabic.
Two Alexandrine long lines are, for instance, frequently resolved in this metrical type into four three-foot short lines with crossed rhymes, as, e.g., in Robert Mannyng’s Chronicle, from p. 69 of Hearne’s edition onwards.
Two Alexandrine long lines are often resolved in this metrical style into four short lines with three feet and crossed rhymes, like, for example, in Robert Mannyng’s Chronicle, starting from page 69 of Hearne’s edition.
From our previous description of the four types of the Middle English Alexandrine, determined by the caesura and the close of the verse, it is clear that the short verses resulting from them may rhyme either with masculine or feminine endings, as, e.g., on p. 78, ll. 1, 2:
From our earlier description of the four types of the Middle English Alexandrine, identified by the pause and the end of the verse, it’s clear that the short verses that come from them can rhyme with either masculine or feminine endings, as seen, for example, on p. 78, ll. 1, 2:
In accordance with the general character of the metre the verses in this Chronicle are, even when rhyming as short lines, printed as long lines, especially as this order of rhymes is not consistently observed in all places in which they occur.
In line with the overall style of the meter, the verses in this Chronicle are, even when they rhyme like short lines, printed as long lines, particularly since this pattern of rhymes isn't consistently followed wherever they appear.
In lyrical poetry this metre is naturally chiefly found arranged in short lines, as in the following examples:
In lyrical poetry, this meter is typically arranged in short lines, as shown in the following examples:
With another order of rhymes these verses are also met with in tail-rhyme stanzas of different kinds, as, for instance, in Wright’s Spec. of L. P., p. 41:
With another set of rhymes, these verses are also found in tail-rhyme stanzas of various types, like in Wright’s Spec. of L. P., p. 41:
As a rule, the verses in such lyrical compositions intended to be sung are more regularly constructed than in those of narrative poetry, where the usual Germanic metrical licences occur more frequently.
As a rule, the lines in songs are more consistently structured than in narrative poetry, where the typical Germanic metrical freedoms happen more often.
In Modern English the three-foot verse has remained a favourite, chiefly in lyrical poetry, and occurs there as well with monosyllabic as with disyllabic rhymes, which may either follow one another or be crossed, e.g.:
In modern English, the three-foot verse has remained popular, especially in lyrical poetry, and it appears with both monosyllabic and disyllabic rhymes, which can either follow one another or be crossed, e.g.:
We seldom find three-foot verses with disyllabic rhymes throughout. There is, on the other hand, in lyrical poetry a predilection for stanzas in which disyllabic rhymes alternate with monosyllabic, as, for instance, in Sheffield, On the Loss of an only Son:
We rarely see three-foot lines with two-syllable rhymes throughout. However, in lyrical poetry, there's a preference for stanzas where two-syllable rhymes alternate with one-syllable rhymes, as seen in Sheffield's On the Loss of an Only Son:
Rhythmical licences, such as suppression of the anacrusis, seldom occur in such short lines. The species of licence that is most frequent appears to be inversion of accent.
Rhythmic licenses, like the omission of the anacrusis, are rare in such short lines. The type of license that happens most often seems to be the inversion of accent.
CHAPTER XI
THE RHYMED PENTAMETER
Two forms can be distinguished, namely, the rhymed and the rhymeless five-foot verse (the latter being known as blank verse), which are of equal importance, though not of equal antiquity.
Two forms can be distinguished, namely, the rhymed
The rhymed five-foot verse was known in English poetry as far back as the second half of the thirteenth century, and has been a favourite metre from Chaucer’s first poetic attempts onward to the present, whilst the blank verse was first introduced into English literature about the year 1540 by the Earl of Surrey (1518–47), and has been frequently employed ever since that time. The rhymed five-foot verse was, and has continued to be, mainly preferred for lyrical and epic, the blank verse for dramatic poetry. The latter, however, has been employed e.g. by Milton, and after him by Thomson and many others for the epic and allied species of poetry; while rhymed five-foot verse was used during a certain period for dramatic poetry, e.g. by Davenant and Dryden, but by the latter only for a short time.
The rhymed five-foot verse has been a part of English poetry since the second half of the 13th century and has remained a popular meter from Chaucer's early works to today. Blank verse was introduced to English literature around 1540 by the Earl of Surrey (1518–47) and has been used frequently ever since. The rhymed five-foot verse has typically been favored for lyrical and epic poetry, while blank verse has been mainly used for dramatic works. However, poets like Milton, Thomson, and others have also utilized blank verse for epic and related poetry. Similarly, the rhymed five-foot verse was used for dramatic poetry at one point, notably by Davenant and Dryden, although Dryden only employed it for a brief period.
Rhymed five-accent verse occurs in Middle English both in poems composed in stanza form and (since Chaucer’s Legend of Good Women, c. 1386) in couplets.
Rhymed five-accent verse appears in Middle English in poems made up of stanzas and (since Chaucer’s Legend of Good Women, around 1386) in couplets.
This metre, apart from differences in the length of the line and in number of accents, is by no means to be looked upon as different from the remaining even-stressed metres of that time. For, like the Middle English four-foot verse and the Alexandrine, it derives its origin from a French source, its prototype being the French decasyllabic verse. This is a metre with rising rhythm, in which the caesura generally comes after the fourth syllable, as e.g. in the line:
This meter, aside from variations in line length and the number of accents, shouldn't be seen as different from the other evenly stressed meters of that time. Like the Middle English four-foot verse and the Alexandrine, it originates from a French source, specifically the French decasyllabic verse. This meter has a rising rhythm, where the caesura typically occurs after the fourth syllable, such as in the line:
To this verse the following line of Chaucer’s corresponds exactly in point of structure:
To this verse, the following line from Chaucer matches perfectly in structure:
I. Principal Types. | II. With Initial Truncation (omission of the first thesis). | ||||||
1. | ⏑–⏑– | ⏑–⏑–⏑– | 10 syll. | 5. | Below is a short piece of text (5 words or fewer). Modernize it into contemporary English if there's enough context, but do not add or omit any information. If context is insufficient, return it unchanged. Do not add commentary, and do not modify any placeholders. If you see placeholders of the form __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_x__, you must keep them exactly as-is so they can be replaced with links. | ⏑–⏑–⏑– | 9 syll. |
2. | ⏑–⏑–⏑ | ⏑–⏑–⏑– | 11 ” | 6. | –⏑–⏑ | ⏑–⏑–⏑– | 10 ” |
3. | ⏑–⏑– | ⏑–⏑–⏑–⏑ | 11 ” | 7. | –⏑– | ⏑–⏑–⏑–⏑ | 10 ” |
4. | ⏑–⏑–⏑ | ⏑–⏑–⏑–⏑ | 12 ” | 8. | –⏑–⏑ | ⏑–⏑–⏑–⏑ | 11 ” |
III. With Internal Truncation (omission of the thesis after the caesura). |
IV. With both Initial and Internal Truncation. | ||||||
9. | ⏑–⏑– | –⏑–⏑– | 9 syll. | 13. | –⏑– | –⏑–⏑– | 8 syll. |
10. | ⏑–⏑–⏑ | –⏑–⏑– | 10 ” | 14. | –⏑–⏑ | –⏑–⏑– | 9 ” |
11. | ⏑–⏑– | –⏑–⏑–⏑ | 10 ” | 15. | Below is a short piece of text (5 words or fewer). Modernize it into contemporary English if there's enough context, but do not add or omit any information. If context is insufficient, return it unchanged. Do not add commentary, and do not modify any placeholders. If you see placeholders of the form __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_x__, you must keep them exactly as-is so they can be replaced with links. –⏑– | –⏑–⏑–⏑ | 9 ” |
12. | ⏑–⏑–⏑ | –⏑–⏑–⏑ | 11 ” | 16. | –⏑–⏑ | –⏑–⏑–⏑ | 10 ” |
This table at the same time also contains the formal exposition, and indeed possibly the actual explanation (by suppression of the thesis following the epic caesura), of such lines as may be regarded as lines with lyric caesura, and are identical with these in regard to rhythm and number of syllables. To this class belong the forms given under 10, 12, 14, and 16.
This table also includes the formal presentation and possibly the actual explanation (by leaving out the thesis following the epic pause) of lines that can be seen as having a lyrical pause and are the same in rhythm and syllable count. The forms listed under 10, 12, 14, and 16 belong to this category.
The following examples will serve to illustrate these sixteen types:
The following examples will illustrate these sixteen types:
I. Principal Types.
I. Main Types.
II. With Initial Truncation.
II. With Initial Truncation.
III. With Internal Truncation after the caesura.
III. With Internal Truncation after the pause.
IV. With Initial Truncation and Truncation after the caesura.
IV. With Initial Truncation and Truncation after the pause.
In this five-foot metre all the Germanic licences of the even-beat rhythm may occur in the same way as in the other even-beat metres. The caesura, for instance, may occur in both (or all three) varieties in the five-foot verse of Chaucer and of many other poets, either after or within any of the remaining feet. Hence the structure of this metrical form gains to an extraordinary degree in complexity.
In this five-foot meter, all the Germanic licenses of the even-beat rhythm can appear just like in the other even-beat meters. The caesura, for example, can occur in both (or all three) varieties in the five-foot verse of Chaucer and many other poets, either after or within any of the other feet. As a result, the structure of this metrical form becomes significantly more complex.
By the mere fact that the variations adduced above may also occur after the first, third, and fourth foot, the number of verse-forms produced by the above-mentioned types of caesura in combination with initial truncation and the different kinds of verse-ending rises to sixty-four, to say nothing of the other metrical licences due to inversion of accent, level stress, and the presence of hypermetrical unaccented syllables at the beginning, or in the middle and the end of the line. At any rate, the varieties of even-beat metres, especially of the five-foot verse, resulting from these metrical licences, are much more numerous than those connected with the five main types of the alliterative hemistich. The great diversity of rhythm allowed by this metrical theory has, indeed, been objected to, but evidently without sufficient reason, and, as it seems, only because of the unfamiliarity of the idea.
By the simple fact that the variations mentioned above can also happen after the first, third, and fourth foot, the number of verse forms created by these types of caesura in combined with initial truncation and the different types of verse-ending rises to sixty-four, not to mention the other metrical licenses from accent inversion, level stress, and the presence of extra unaccented syllables at the beginning, middle, or end of the line. In any case, the varieties of even-beat meters, especially those of the five-foot verse, resulting from these metrical licenses, are far more numerous than those linked to the five main types of the alliterative hemistich. The wide range of rhythm allowed by this metrical theory has indeed been criticized, but clearly without good reason, and it seems only due to the unfamiliarity with the concept.
§ 153. This variable position of the caesura is, however, not found in the earliest specimens of this metre presented to us in the two poems in the Harl. MS. 2253 dating from the second half of the thirteenth century, which are edited in Wright’s Specimens of Lyric Poetry, Nos. xl and xli (wrongly numbered xlii).[149] These are written in tripartite eight-lined, anisometrical stanzas of the form a4 b3 a4 b3 c5 c5 d7 d5, in which the fifth, sixth, and eighth lines are evidently of five feet. Ten Brink,[150] it is true, says that he has not been able ‘to convince himself that this was a genuine instance of a metre which—whether in origin or character—might be identified with Chaucer’s heroic verse, although in isolated instances it seems to coincide with it’. According to my conviction, there is not the slightest doubt as to the structure of these verses as lines of five feet, and Ten Brink has not expressed any opinion as to the nature of the verse to which they must otherwise be referred.[151]
§ 153. However, this flexible placement of the caesura isn't found in the earliest examples of this meter presented to us in the two poems from Harl. MS. 2253, which date back to the second half of the thirteenth century and are included in Wright’s Specimens of Lyric Poetry, Nos. xl and xli (incorrectly numbered xlii).[149] These poems are written in tripartite eight-line, uneven stanzas of the form a4 b3 a4 b3 c5 c5 d7 d5, where the fifth, sixth, and eighth lines clearly have five feet. Although Ten Brink,[150] claims he hasn't been able to ‘convince himself that this was a genuine instance of a meter that—whether in origin or character—could be identified with Chaucer’s heroic verse, even though in isolated cases it seems to align with it.’ I firmly believe there is no doubt about the structure of these lines as having five feet, and Ten Brink has not offered any opinion on what type of verse they must be referred.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
In both these poems there occur only verses of the type indicated by the formulas 3, 4, 7, 12:
In both of these poems, there are only lines of the type indicated by the formulas 3, 4, 7, 12:
Among the Germanic licences the presence of a disyllabic initial or internal thesis is most noticeable in these which are, so far as is known, the earliest five-foot verses in English poetry; as, e.g. in xli. 33, 34:
Among the Germanic licenses, the presence of a disyllabic initial or internal thesis is most noticeable in those that are, as far as we know, the earliest five-foot verses in English poetry; for example, in xli. 33, 34:
§ 154. The main difference between Chaucer’s five-foot verse and these early specimens of this metre is that the caesura does not always occupy a fixed place in it, but is liable to shift its position.[152] It is either masculine, epic, or lyric, and occurs chiefly after the second or in and after the third foot, or in the fourth, so that there are thus (in Chaucer’s verse and that of most of the following poets) six main types of caesura:
§ 154. The main difference between Chaucer’s five-foot verse and these early examples of this meter is that the pause doesn’t always have a fixed position; it can move around. [152] It can be masculine, epic, or lyric, and usually occurs after the second foot or in and after the third foot, or in the fourth, so there are therefore (in Chaucer’s verse and that of most subsequent poets) six main types of caesura:
1. Masculine (monosyllabic) caesura after the second foot; the principal kind (types 1 and 3):
1. Masculine (single-syllable) pause after the second beat; the main kind (types 1 and 3):
2. Feminine (disyllabic) epic caesura after the second foot; far rarer (types 2 and 4):
2. Feminine (two-syllable) epic pause after the second foot; much less common (types 2 and 4):
3. Feminine (disyllabic) lyric caesura in the third foot; more frequent than the preceding (types 10 and 12):
3. Feminine (two-syllable) lyric caesura in the third foot; more common than the previous ones (types 10 and 12):
4. Masculine (monosyllabic) caesura after the third foot (first subordinate type to 1 and 3 = 1 a and 3 a):
4. Masculine (monosyllabic) pause after the third foot (first subordinate type to 1 and 3 = 1 a and 3 a):
5. Feminine (disyllabic) epic caesura after the third foot, rare (first subordinate type to 2 and 4 = 2a and 4a:
5. Feminine (two-syllable) epic caesura after the third foot, rare (first subordinate type to 2 and 4 = 2a and 4a:
6. Feminine lyric caesura in the fourth foot (first subordinate type to 10 and 12 = 10a and 12a):
6. Feminine lyric pause in the fourth foot (first subordinate type to 10 and 12 = 10a and 12a):
Besides these six principal caesuras we also find all the three types occurring in rarer instances in the corresponding remaining positions of the verse, namely, after the first or in the second foot, and after the fourth or in the fifth foot. Enjambement often gives rise to logical caesuras in unusual positions, alongside of which another metrical caesura is generally noticeable in one of the usual positions:
Besides these six main caesuras, we also find all three types appearing less frequently in the other positions of the verse, specifically after the first foot or in the second foot, and after the fourth foot or in the fifth foot. Enjambment often creates logical caesuras in unexpected places, along with another metrical caesura usually noticeable in one of the standard positions:
By the various combinations of such principal and subordinate caesuras the number of the varieties of this metre is increased to an almost unlimited extent. Many lines also are devoid of the caesura completely, or, at most, admit, under the influence of the general rhythm, a light metrical caesura without any strict logical need, as, for instance, when it occurs after a conjunction or a preposition, as in the verses:
By combining different main and subordinate pauses, the variety of this meter grows to an almost limitless degree. Many lines also completely lack a pause or, at most, have a subtle metrical pause that isn’t strictly necessary due to the overall rhythm, such as when it appears after a conjunction or a preposition, as seen in the verses:
§ 155. The end also of the line may be either masculine or feminine. Both kinds occur side by side on a perfectly equal footing, the feminine endings probably somewhat oftener in Chaucer’s verse owing to the numerous terminations consisting of e or e + consonant which were still pronounced at his time. Besides the variety in the caesura and the end of the verse, the well-known licences of even-beat rhythm play a considerable part; as, for instance, inversion of accent, ordinary and rhetorical, at the beginning of the verse and after the caesura: rédy to wénden Prol. 21; Sýngynge he wás ib. 91; Schórt was his góune ib. 93; Tróuthe and honóur, frédom and cóurteisíe ib. 46.
§ 155. The end of a line can be either masculine or feminine. Both types appear side by side on equal terms, with feminine endings probably occurring a bit more often in Chaucer’s poetry due to the many endings with e or e + consonant that were still pronounced during his time. In addition to the variety in the caesura and at the end of the verse, the well-known licenses of even-beat rhythm play an important role; for example, the inversion of accent, both ordinary and rhetorical, at the start of the verse and after the caesura: rédy to wénden Prol. 21; Sýngynge he wás ib. 91; Schórt was his góune ib. 93; Tróuthe and honóur, frédom and cóurteisíe ib. 46.
Disyllabic theses are often found initially and internally.
Disyllabic theses are often found at the beginning and in the middle.
Similar rhythmical phenomena are caused by the slurring of syllables, such, e.g., as Many a, tharray from the array, &c., &c., in regard to which reference should be made to the chapter on the metrical value of syllables.
Similar rhythmic effects happen when syllables are slurred together, such as Many a, tharray from the array, etc., etc., for which one should refer to the chapter on the metrical value of syllables.
Of Gower’s five-foot verse only short specimens are preserved. Like his four-foot verse, they are very generally regular. Inversion of accent is the licence he most often employs. Gower uses almost exclusively the masculine caesura after the second foot and the lyric caesura in the third foot. But epic caesura also occasionally occurs in his verse:
Of Gower’s five-foot verse, only a few short examples have been kept. Like his four-foot verse, they are usually quite regular. The license he most frequently uses is the inversion of accent. Gower almost exclusively employs the masculine caesura after the second foot and the lyric caesura in the third foot. However, epic caesura can also be found in his verse from time to time:
A decline in the technique of the five-foot verse begins with Lydgate and Hoccleve.
A decline in the five-foot verse technique starts with Lydgate and Hoccleve.
These writers deprived the caesura of its mobility and admitted it almost exclusively after the second beat. Hoccleve uses hardly any caesuras but the masculine and lyric, whilst in Lydgate’s verse epic caesura is often met with (cf. p. 211). Both indulge in the licences of initial truncation and omission of the unaccented syllable after the caesura (cf. l. c.) as well as level stress and the admission of several unaccented syllables at the beginning of the verse and internally; there are even cases of the omission of unaccented syllables in the middle of the verse:
These writers took away the flexibility of the caesura and mostly placed it after the second beat. Hoccleve rarely uses caesuras, focusing instead on the masculine and lyrical forms, while Lydgate's epic poetry frequently features caesuras (cf. p. 211). Both of them employ techniques like initial truncation and leaving out the unaccented syllable after the caesura (cf. l. c.), as well as balanced stress and allowing several unaccented syllables at the start of the line and within; there are even instances of leaving out unaccented syllables in the middle of the verse:
The slight license of inversion of accent is also taken advantage of.
The slight allowance for shifting the accent is also utilized.
Stephen Hawes and Barclay again imparted to this line greater freedom with regard to the caesura. And yet the metre exhibits under their hands, in consequence of the frequent occurrence of disyllabic initial and internal theses, a somewhat uneven rhythm.
Stephen Hawes and Barclay again gave this line more freedom with the breaks. Yet, the meter shows, because of the frequent use of two-syllable beginnings and internal stresses, a somewhat uneven rhythm.
The ablest of the successors of Chaucer, in technique as in other respects, are the Scots: Blind Harry, Henrysoun, King James I, Douglas, and Dunbar. The verse of Dunbar, in particular, stands on an equality with Chaucer’s in rhythmical euphony, while David Lyndesay often struggles with difficulties of form, and, by frequent use of level stress, offends against the first principle of even-beat rhythm, viz. the coincidence of the metrical accent with the natural accentuation of the word and sentence.
The most skilled of Chaucer's successors, both in style and other areas, are the Scots: Blind Harry, Henrysoun, King James I, Douglas, and Dunbar. Dunbar's poetry, in particular, matches Chaucer's in rhythmic beauty, while David Lyndesay often grapples with form issues and, by frequently using level stress, goes against the basic rule of even-beat rhythm—matching the metrical accent with the natural emphasis of the words and sentences.
For the same reason, and owing to the advance in technical execution, the epic caesura is also rarer. Still, examples of this as well as of the other kind of caesuras employed by Chaucer are found in Modern English:
For the same reason, and because of the improvements in technical execution, the epic pause is also less common. However, examples of this type as well as other types of pauses used by Chaucer can be found in Modern English:
In positions nearer to the beginning or the end of the line the different kinds of caesura are also rare in Modern English, and occur mostly in consequence of enjambements.
In positions closer to the start or the end of the line, the different types of caesura are also uncommon in Modern English and mainly happen because of enjambments.
In Wyatt’s poems epic caesuras are found in comparatively large number; in Spenser, on the other hand, they are probably entirely lacking, owing to a finer feeling for the technique of the verse.
In Wyatt's poems, epic pauses are present in a relatively large number; in Spenser's works, however, they are likely completely absent due to a more refined understanding of verse technique.
Inversions of accent occur in the usual positions and at all times with all the poets. Level stress, on the other hand, is more frequently detected in such poets as do not excel in technical skill, as, for instance, in Wyatt and Donne, who also admit initial truncation, and more rarely the omission of a thesis in the middle of the line. In their poems disyllabic theses also often occur initially and internally, while more careful poets more rarely permit themselves these licences. To Wyatt’s charge must be laid further the unusual and uncouth licence of unaccented rhyme, such rhymes, for example, as begínnìng: eclípsìng, p. 56, 1–3; dréadèth: séekèth, inclósèd: oppréssèd 54, &c. In other poets this peculiarity is hardly ever found.
Inversions of accent happen in the usual places and at all times with all the poets. Level stress, on the other hand, is more often seen in poets who aren’t great at technical skills, like Wyatt and Donne, who also use initial truncation and, less frequently, leave out a thesis in the middle of a line. In their poems, disyllabic theses often appear at the beginning and internally, while more meticulous poets rarely allow themselves these liberties. Wyatt is also criticized for the odd and awkward use of unaccented rhyme, such as begínnìng: eclípsìng, p. 56, 1–3; dréadèth: séekèth, inclósèd: oppréssèd 54, &c. In other poets, this characteristic is hardly ever found.
§ 158. In narrative poetry the five-foot verse rhyming in couplets, heroic verse, was a favourite metre. As a close in the sense coincides with that of each couplet, this metre tends to assume an epigrammatic tone, especially since enjambement seldom occurs after the Restoration. To avoid the monotony thus occasioned, many Restoration poets linked three verses together by one and the same rhyme, whereby the regular sequence of couplets was then interrupted wherever they pleased. Sometimes such threefold rhymes (triplets) serve the purpose of laying a special stress on particular passages, a practice which is, moreover, to be observed as early as in some contemporaries of Shakespeare, e.g. in Donne. A somewhat freer structure than that of the heroic verse is, as a rule, exhibited by the five-foot line when employed in poems in stanza form. In this verse a considerable part is played by enjambement. This also holds good for the rhymed five-foot verse employed in dramatic poetry, which usually rhymes in couplets, though alternate rhymes are occasionally used.
§ 158. In narrative poetry, the five-foot verse that rhymes in couplets, known as heroic verse, was a popular meter. Since the end of each line closely aligns with each couplet, this meter tends to have an epigrammatic feel, especially because enjambment rarely occurs after the Restoration. To break the monotony caused by this, many Restoration poets connected three verses using the same rhyme, interrupting the regular sequence of couplets whenever they chose. Sometimes, these triplets serve to emphasize specific passages, a technique that can also be found in the works of some of Shakespeare's contemporaries, like Donne. Typically, when used in stanza form, the five-foot line shows a slightly freer structure than heroic verse. Enjambment also plays a significant role here. This applies to the rhymed five-foot verse used in dramatic poetry, which usually rhymes in couplets, although alternate rhymes are occasionally incorporated.
After Lyly’s The Maid’s Metamorphosis, entirely written in heroic verse, this metre was chiefly employed by Shakespeare and his contemporaries for prologues and epilogues. Rhymed five-foot verses frequently occur in Shakespeare’s earlier dramas, e.g. in Romeo and Juliet, where their technical structure is found to be fairly strict. In his later dramas, on the other hand, e.g. in the Prologue and Epilogue to Henry VIII, the heroic verse is, on the analogy of the freer treatment of his later blank verse, also more loosely constructed. Enjambement, and the caesuras connected with it after the first and fourth accents, are often met with.
After Lyly’s The Maid’s Metamorphosis, which was entirely written in heroic verse, this meter was mainly used by Shakespeare and his contemporaries for prologues and epilogues. Rhymed five-foot verses often appear in Shakespeare’s earlier plays, like in Romeo and Juliet, where the technical structure is quite strict. In his later plays, however, such as in the Prologue and Epilogue to Henry VIII, the heroic verse is more loosely structured, similar to the freer style of his later blank verse. Enjambment, along with the pauses that come after the first and fourth accents, is commonly found.
§ 159. Dryden’s dramatic heroic verse does not differ essentially from that of his satirical poems and translations. After Dryden returned to blank verse for dramatic writing, heroic verse ceased to be employed for this purpose. Rhymed verse, rhyming in couplets and stanzas, however, still continued to be in vogue in lyrical, satirical, didactic, and narrative poetry.
§ 159. Dryden’s dramatic heroic verse is essentially the same as that of his satirical poems and translations. Once Dryden switched back to blank verse for his dramatic work, heroic verse fell out of use for that purpose. However, rhymed verse, in couplets and stanzas, remained popular in lyrical, satirical, didactic, and narrative poetry.
Pope’s heroic verse is still more uniformly constructed than that of Dryden. Both poets hardly ever employ any caesura but the masculine and the lyric after the second and third beat, and the end of the line is almost exclusively masculine. Initial truncation or the absence of an unaccented syllable internally is hardly to be met with in their poems. The earlier diversity in the structure of this line was (under the influence of the French models whom they closely imitated) considerably restricted. Even transposition of accent occurs comparatively seldom, so that the word-accent generally exactly coincides with the rhythmical accent. Enjambement is, however, employed more frequently by Dryden than by Pope; and the former, moreover, occasionally admits at the close of a triplet a verse of six feet, while Pope, in his original poems, completely avoids triplets as well as six-accent lines. The breaking of rhyme both poets purposely exclude.
Pope’s heroic verse is even more consistently structured than Dryden's. Both poets rarely use any caesura except for the masculine and lyrical after the second and third beats, and the end of the line is almost always masculine. You hardly see initial truncation or an absence of an unaccented syllable within their poems. The earlier variety in the structure of this line was significantly limited (due to the influence of the French models they closely followed). Even the transposition of accents happens relatively rarely, so the word accent usually aligns perfectly with the rhythmic accent. However, Dryden uses enjambment more often than Pope does; additionally, Dryden occasionally includes a six-foot line at the end of a triplet, while Pope completely avoids triplets and six-accent lines in his original poems. Both poets intentionally exclude the breaking of rhyme.
A similar uniform character is exhibited by the heroic verse of most of the poets of the eighteenth century. It is not before the nineteenth century that this metre, in spite of the persistence of individual poets, e.g. Byron, in adhering to the fashion set by Pope, again acquires greater freedom. Shelley and Browning, for instance, are fond of combining lines of heroic verse by enjambement so as to form periods of some length. Wordsworth, Coleridge, Southey and others again admit couplets and triplets with occasional six-foot lines at the close. But the caesura remains nearly always restricted to the places which it occupies in Pope’s verse, and the close of the line is masculine. Keats only often indulges in feminine rhymes.
A similar uniformity is seen in the heroic verse of most poets from the eighteenth century. It isn’t until the nineteenth century that this meter, despite some individual poets like Byron sticking to the style set by Pope, gains more freedom. For example, Shelley and Browning like to use enjambment to connect lines of heroic verse and create longer periods. Wordsworth, Coleridge, Southey, and others also include couplets and triplets with occasional six-foot lines at the end. However, the caesura is mostly limited to the places it occupies in Pope’s verse, and the end of the line is masculine. Keats frequently enjoys using feminine rhymes.
It is, however, remarkable that such rhymes more often occur in five-foot verses combined in stanzas when employed for satirical and comic compositions, as e.g. in Byron’s Beppo and Don Juan. In these poems the disyllabic thesis, the slurring of syllables, and other rhythmical licences, also more frequently occur.
It’s striking that these rhymes are more commonly found in five-foot verses grouped in stanzas when used for satire and comedy, like in Byron’s Beppo and Don Juan. In these poems, the use of two-syllable feet, the blending of syllables, and other rhythmic liberties also happen more frequently.
DIVISION III
Verse Forms in Modern English
Poetry Only
CHAPTER XII
Blank verse
§ 160. The Beginnings of Modern English Poetry. Puttenham, in his Arte of English Poesie, i. 31, speaks of Surrey and Wyatt as having originated the modern period of English poetry. This is true in so far as their poems are the first to show clearly—especially in metrical form—the influence of the spirit of the Renaissance, which had been making itself felt in English Literature for some time past. The new tendencies manifested themselves not only in the actual introduction of new rhythms and verse-forms borrowed from Classical and Italian poetry, but also in the endeavour to regulate and reform the native poetry according to the metrical laws and peculiarities of foreign models, especially of the ancient classics.
§ 160. The Beginnings of Modern English Poetry. Puttenham, in his Arte of English Poesie, i. 31, talks about Surrey and Wyatt as the ones who started the modern era of English poetry. This is accurate to the extent that their poems are the first to clearly show—especially in their meter—the impact of the Renaissance, which had been influencing English literature for a while. The new trends appeared not only through the actual adoption of new rhythms and verse forms taken from Classical and Italian poetry, but also in the effort to organize and improve native poetry according to the metrical rules and features of foreign examples, especially the ancient classics.
There were, indeed, several features of classical poetry which invited imitation, and the introduction of which produced the chief differences between Modern English and Middle English versification. These features are:
There were, in fact, several aspects of classical poetry that encouraged imitation, and the inclusion of these aspects created the main differences between Modern English and Middle English verse. These aspects are:
First, the quantitative character of the ancient rhythms as opposed to the accentual character of English verse. Secondly, the strict separation of rising and falling rhythms. In Middle English we have only the rising rhythm, which, however, sometimes becomes a falling one if the first thesis is wanting. Finally, the absence of rhyme in the poetry of the ancients, whereas in late Middle English poetry—apart from some North-English and Scottish productions written in the conservative, rhymeless form of the alliterative line—rhyme is all but universal.
First, the quantitative nature of ancient rhythms compared to the accentual nature of English verse. Second, the clear distinction between rising and falling rhythms. In Middle English, there is only the rising rhythm, which can sometimes turn into a falling one if the first beat is missing. Finally, the lack of rhyme in ancient poetry, while in late Middle English poetry—aside from a few North-English and Scottish works written in the traditional, rhymeless style of the alliterative line—rhyme is nearly universal.
It was the Earl of Surrey who, by dispensing with the rhyme, first transformed this metre into what is now known as Blank Verse. He adopted the unrhymed decasyllabic line as the most suitable vehicle for his translation of the second and fourth books of the Aeneid, written about 1540. In so doing, he enriched modern literature with a new form of verse which was destined to take a far more important place in English poetry than he can have foreseen for it. In its original function, as appropriate to the translation of ancient epic poetry, it has been employed by many late writers, e.g. by Cowper in his version of Homer; but this is only one, and the least considerable, of its many applications. Shortly after Surrey’s time blank verse was used for court drama by Sackville and Norton in their tragedy of Gorboduc (1561), and for popular drama by Marlowe in Tamburlaine the Great (1587).
It was the Earl of Surrey who, by getting rid of the rhyme, first transformed this meter into what is now called Blank Verse. He chose the unrhymed decasyllabic line as the best format for his translation of the second and fourth books of the Aeneid, written around 1540. In doing so, he enriched modern literature with a new type of verse that was destined to become much more significant in English poetry than he could have anticipated. Originally, as suitable for translating ancient epic poetry, it has been used by many later writers, such as Cowper in his version of Homer; but that's just one, and the least significant, of its many uses. Shortly after Surrey’s time, blank verse was employed for court drama by Sackville and Norton in their tragedy of Gorboduc (1561), and for popular drama by Marlowe in Tamburlaine the Great (1587).
From the latter part of the sixteenth century onwards it has continued to be the prevailing metre for dramatic poetry, except for a short time, when its supremacy was disputed by the heroic couplet used by Lord Orrery, Davenant, Dryden, and others. Meanwhile blank verse had also become the metre of original epic poetry through Milton’s use of it in his Paradise Lost; and in the eighteenth century it was applied to descriptive and reflective poetry by Thomson and Young.
From the late sixteenth century onward, it has remained the dominant meter for dramatic poetry, except for a brief period when its supremacy was challenged by the heroic couplet used by Lord Orrery, Davenant, Dryden, and others. At the same time, blank verse also became the meter for original epic poetry thanks to Milton’s use of it in his Paradise Lost; and in the eighteenth century, it was used for descriptive and reflective poetry by Thomson and Young.
It is uncertain whether Surrey invented it himself on the basis of his studies in classical rhymeless poetry, or whether he was influenced by the example of the Italian poet Trissino (1478–1550), who, in his epic Italia liberata dai Goti and in his drama Sofonisba, introduced into Italian poetry the rhymeless, eleven-syllabled verses known as versi sciolti (sc. della rima, i.e. freed from rhyme). There are at least no conclusive grounds for accepting the latter view, as there are some peculiarities in Surrey’s blank verse which are not met with in Trissino, e.g. the occurrence of incomplete lines, which may have been introduced after the model of the unfinished lines found occasionally amongst Vergil’s Latin hexameters.
It’s unclear whether Surrey came up with it on his own based on his studies in classical unrhymed poetry, or if he was inspired by the Italian poet Trissino (1478–1550), who introduced unrhymed, eleven-syllable verses known as versi sciolti (i.e., freed from rhyme) in his epic Italia liberata dai Goti and his play Sofonisba. However, there’s no strong evidence to support the latter theory, since Surrey's blank verse has some unique features that aren’t found in Trissino, such as the use of incomplete lines, which could have been influenced by the unfinished lines sometimes seen in Vergil’s Latin hexameters.
Blank verse being in its origin only heroic verse without rhyme,[154] we may refer for its general rhythmical structure to what we have said on this metre. The rhythmical licences of this and the other iambic metres discussed in §§ 82–8 are common also to blank verse. But in addition to these, blank verse has several other deviations from the normal rhymed five-foot iambic verse, the emancipation from rhyme having had the effect of producing greater variability of metrical structure. It is for this reason it has been thought advisable to treat heroic verse and blank verse in separate chapters.
Blank verse, at its core, is simply heroic verse without rhyme. [154] We can refer to what we've discussed about this meter for its overall rhythmic structure. The rhythmic freedoms we talked about in §§ 82–8 also apply to blank verse. However, blank verse has several additional differences from the standard five-foot iambic verse with rhyme, as breaking free from rhyme allows for more flexibility in its metrical structure. For this reason, it's been deemed necessary to cover heroic verse and blank verse in separate chapters.
At first, it is true, the two metres are very similar in character, especially in Surrey; with the further and independent development of blank verse, however, they diverge more and more.
At first, it's true that the two meters are very similar in style, especially in Surrey; however, with the further and independent development of blank verse, they start to diverge more and more.
§ 162. In conformity with Surrey’s practice in his heroic verse, which, as we have seen, usually had masculine rhymes, his blank verse has also as a rule masculine endings, and is thus distinguished not only from Chaucer’s heroic verse, which frequently had feminine endings, but from the blank verse of later poets like Shakespeare and some of his contemporaries.
§ 162. Following Surrey’s approach in his heroic poetry, which typically had masculine rhymes, his blank verse also usually ends with masculine endings. This sets it apart not only from Chaucer’s heroic verse, which often included feminine endings, but also from the blank verse of later poets like Shakespeare and some of his contemporaries.
The Epic caesura occurs occasionally after the second foot, e.g.:
The Epic caesura sometimes appears after the second foot, e.g.:
but apparently not after the third, although it does not seem to have been avoided on principle, as we often find lyric caesuras in this place, and even after the fourth foot:
but apparently not after the third, although it doesn’t seem to have been avoided as a rule, since we often find lyric pauses here, and even after the fourth beat:
The run-on line (or enjambement) is already pretty frequently used by Surrey (35 times in the first 250 lines), and this is one of the chief distinctions between blank verse and heroic verse. In most instances the use of run-on lines is deliberately adopted with a view to artistic effect. The same may be said of the frequent inversion of rhythm. On the other hand, it seldom happens that the flow of the metre is interrupted by level stress, missing thesis, or the use of a disyllabic thesis at the beginning or in the interior of the verse.[155] As to the peculiarities of the word-stress and the metrical treatment of syllables in Surrey, the respective sections of the introductory remarks should be consulted. Apart then from the metrical licences, of which it admits in common with heroic verse, the most important peculiarities of Surrey’s blank verse are the masculine endings, which are almost exclusively used, and the frequent use of run-on lines.
The run-on line (or enjambment) is already quite commonly used by Surrey (35 times in the first 250 lines), and this is one of the main differences between blank verse and heroic verse. In most cases, the use of run-on lines is intentionally chosen for artistic effect. The same can be said for the frequent inversion of rhythm. On the other hand, it rarely happens that the flow of the meter is interrupted by level stress, missing thesis, or the use of a two-syllable thesis at the beginning or in the middle of the verse.[155] Regarding the specific characteristics of word stress and the metrical treatment of syllables in Surrey, the relevant sections of the introductory remarks should be checked. Apart from the metrical liberties it shares with heroic verse, the most notable features of Surrey’s blank verse are the predominantly masculine endings and the frequent use of run-on lines.
Cf. the opening lines of the fourth book of his Aeneid:
Cf. the opening lines of the fourth book of his Aeneid:
§ 163. With regard to the further development of this metre in the drama of the second half of the sixteenth and the first half of the seventeenth centuries we must restrict ourselves to a brief summary of its most important peculiarities, for details referring the reader to Metrik, ii, pp. 256–375; for bibliography see ib., pp. 259–60.
§ 163. When it comes to the further development of this meter in the drama of the latter half of the sixteenth century and the first half of the seventeenth century, we need to keep it brief and summarize its key features. For more details, refer the reader to Metrik, ii, pp. 256–375; for bibliography see ib., pp. 259–60.
The employment of blank verse in the court drama hardly brought about any change in its structure. In Gorboduc, apart from a few instances in which a line is divided in the dialogue between two speakers (generally two and three feet) and the occasional (for the most part no doubt accidental) use of rhyme, the blank verse is exceedingly similar to that of Surrey, having masculine endings with hardly any exceptions.
The use of blank verse in court drama didn't really change its structure. In Gorboduc, aside from a few cases where a line is split in the dialogue between two speakers (usually two or three feet) and the occasional rhyme (mostly by chance), the blank verse is very much like that of Surrey, with masculine endings and hardly any exceptions.
This character was maintained by blank verse in all the other court plays of this time, only occasionally rhyming couplets are used at the end of a scene in Gascoigne’s Iocasta, and prose passages now and then occur in Lyly’s The Woman in the Moon.
This character was kept through blank verse in all the other court plays of this period, with rhyming couplets used only occasionally at the end of a scene in Gascoigne’s Iocasta, and prose sections appearing now and then in Lyly’s The Woman in the Moon.
The next and greatest step in the further development of the metre was its introduction into the popular drama by no less a poet than Marlowe in his drama Tamburlaine the Great (1587). Marlowe’s mastery over this metrical form was supreme. His skill is shown in his use of the inversion of accent, particularly the rhetorical inversion, to give variety to his rhythm, e.g.:
The next and biggest step in the ongoing development of the meter was its incorporation into popular drama by none other than Marlowe in his play Tamburlaine the Great (1587). Marlowe was a master of this metrical form. His talent is evident in his use of accent inversion, especially rhetorical inversion, to add variety to his rhythm, for example:
In his practice with regard to the caesura, the suppression of the anacrusis, and the use of disyllabic theses in the interior of the verse, he differs little from his predecessors. One distinctive feature of his verse is that he usually gives their full syllabic value to the Teutonic inflexional endings (-ed, -est), as well as to the Romanic noun- and adjective-suffixes; as -iage, -iance, -ion, -eous, -ial &c. (cf. §§ 102–7).
In his approach to the pause in poetry, the omission of the introductory syllable, and the use of two-syllable beats within the lines, he doesn't stray far from his predecessors. One unique aspect of his writing is that he typically gives full syllabic value to the Germanic inflectional endings (-ed, -est), along with the Romance noun and adjective suffixes like -iage, -iance, -ion, -eous, -ial, etc. (see §§ 102–7).
By a frequent use of these endings as full syllables which is not always in conformity with the spoken language of his time, his verse obtains a certain dignity and pathos; cf. the following lines:
By frequently using these endings as complete syllables, which doesn’t always match the spoken language of his time, his verse gains a certain dignity and emotional weight; see the following lines:
Allied with this is the fact that Marlowe still has a great predilection for masculine endings, although feminine endings are also met with now and then, especially in his later plays. Run-on lines do not often occur, but many two- and three-foot lines as well as heroic couplets are found at the end of longer speeches, scenes, and acts.
Allied with this is the fact that Marlowe still has a strong preference for masculine endings, although feminine endings do appear occasionally, especially in his later plays. Run-on lines are not very common, but many two- and three-foot lines as well as heroic couplets can be found at the end of longer speeches, scenes, and acts.
The blank verse of Greene, Peele, Kyd, and Lodge has a similar structure to that of Marlowe, especially as regards the prevalence of masculine endings. The verse of Greene and Peele, however, is rather monotonous, because generally the caesura occurs after the second foot. On the other hand, the metre of Kyd and Lodge stands in this respect much nearer to that of Marlowe and in general shows greater variety.[156]
The blank verse of Greene, Peele, Kyd, and Lodge has a similar structure to Marlowe's, particularly in the frequent use of masculine endings. However, the verse of Greene and Peele is somewhat monotonous, as the caesura usually falls after the second foot. In contrast, the meter of Kyd and Lodge is much closer to Marlowe's and generally demonstrates greater variety.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
§ 164. The blank verse of Shakespeare,[157] which is of great interest in itself, and moreover has been carefully examined during the last decades from different points of view, requires to be discussed somewhat more fully.
§ 164. The blank verse of Shakespeare,[157] which is very interesting on its own and has been thoroughly analyzed over the past few decades from various perspectives, needs to be discussed in more detail.
It is of the first importance to notice that Shakespeare’s rhythms have different characteristic marks in each of the four periods of his career which are generally accepted.[158] For the determination of the dates of his plays the metrical peculiarities are often of great value in the absence of other evidence, or as confirming conclusions based on chronological indications of a different kind; but theories on the dates of the plays should not be built solely upon these metrical tests, as has been done, for instance, by Fleay. Such criticisms, generally speaking, have only a subordinate value, as, amongst others, F.J. Furnivall has shown in his treatise The Succession of Shakespeare’s works and the use of metrical tests in settling it (London, Smith, Elder & Co., 1877. 8º).
It’s very important to recognize that Shakespeare’s rhythms have different defining features in each of the four periods of his career that are generally accepted.[158] When determining the dates of his plays, the unique meter can be extremely helpful when there’s no other evidence available, or to support conclusions based on other chronological clues; however, theories about the dates of the plays shouldn’t rely solely on these metrical tests, as some have done, such as Fleay. Overall, such criticisms are of limited value, as F.J. Furnivall has demonstrated in his work The Succession of Shakespeare’s works and the use of metrical tests in settling it (London, Smith, Elder & Co., 1877. 8º).
The differences in the treatment of the verse which are of greatest importance as distinctive of the several periods of Shakespeare’s work are the following:
The differences in how the verse is treated, which are most significant in distinguishing the various periods of Shakespeare’s work, are as follows:
§ 165. In the first place the numerical proportion of the rhymed and rhymeless lines in a play deserves attention. Blank verse, it is true, prevails in all Shakespeare’s plays; but in his undoubtedly earlier plays we find a very large proportion of rhymed verse, while in the later plays the proportion becomes very small.
Some statistical examples, based on careful researches by English and German scholars, may be quoted to prove this; for the rest we refer to the special investigations themselves.
Some statistical examples, based on thorough research by English and German scholars, can be mentioned to support this; for the rest, we refer to the specific investigations themselves.
In Love’s Labour’s Lost, one of Shakespeare’s earliest plays, we have 1028 rhymed lines and 579 unrhymed. In The Tempest, one of his last plays, we find 1458 unrhymed and only two rhymed five-foot lines. In the plays that lie between the dates of these two dramas the proportion of rhymed and unrhymed verse lies between these two numbers. In Romeo and Juliet, e.g. (which belongs to the end of Shakespeare’s first period, though Fleay thought it a very early play) we have 2111 unrhymed and 486 rhymed five-foot lines; in Hamlet (belonging to the third period) there are 2490 unrhymed and 81 rhymed lines.
In Love’s Labour’s Lost, one of Shakespeare’s earliest plays, there are 1028 rhymed lines and 579 unrhymed lines. In The Tempest, one of his final works, we find 1458 unrhymed lines and just two rhymed five-foot lines. The plays written between these two works have a mix of rhymed and unrhymed verse that falls between these two amounts. For example, in Romeo and Juliet (which is at the end of Shakespeare’s first period, although Fleay believed it to be an early play) we see 2111 unrhymed lines and 486 rhymed five-foot lines; in Hamlet (from the third period), there are 2490 unrhymed lines and 81 rhymed lines.
In many cases, however, the use of rhyme in a play is connected with its whole tone and character, or with that of certain scenes in it. The frequency of rhymes in Romeo and Juliet finds its explanation in the lyrical character of this play. For the same reason A Midsummer Night’s Dream, although it is certainly later than Love’s Labour’s Lost and Romeo and Juliet, shows a larger proportion of rhymed lines (878 blank: 731 rhymes). This seems sufficient to show that we cannot rely exclusively on the statistical proportion of rhymed and unrhymed verses in the different plays in order to determine their chronological order.
In many cases, though, using rhyme in a play is linked to its overall tone and character, or that of specific scenes. The frequent rhymes in Romeo and Juliet can be explained by the lyrical nature of this play. For the same reason, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, even though it was written later than Love’s Labour’s Lost and Romeo and Juliet, has a higher proportion of rhymed lines (878 blank: 731 rhymes). This makes it clear that we can't solely rely on the statistical ratio of rhymed to unrhymed verses in different plays to determine their chronological order.
§ 166. The numerical proportion of feminine and masculine endings is of similar value. In the early plays we find both masculine and feminine endings; the masculine, however, prevail. The number of feminine endings increases in the later plays. On this point Hertzberg has made accurate statistical researches. According to him the proportion of feminine to masculine endings is as follows:
§ 166. The ratio of feminine and masculine endings is roughly equal. In the earlier plays, both types of endings are present, but masculine endings are more common. The frequency of feminine endings goes up in the later plays. Hertzberg has conducted precise statistical studies on this topic. According to him, the ratio of feminine to masculine endings is as follows:
Love’s Labour’s Lost 4 per cent., Romeo and Juliet 7 per cent., Richard III 18 per cent., Hamlet 25 per cent., Henry VIII 45·6 per cent.[159] This proportion, however, as has been shown by later inquiries,[160] does not depend solely on the date of the composition, but also on the contents and the tone of the diction, lines with masculine endings prevailing in pathetic passages, and feminine endings in unemotional dialogue, but also in passionate scenes, in disputations, questions, &c.
Love’s Labour’s Lost 4%, Romeo and Juliet 7%, Richard III 18%, Hamlet 25%, Henry VIII 45.6%. [159] However, as later investigations have shown, [160] this proportion doesn't rely only on when the work was written but also on the content and the tone of the language used. Lines with masculine endings are more common in emotional passages, while feminine endings appear in neutral dialogue, as well as in passionate scenes, debates, questions, etc.
§ 167. The numerical proportion of what are called ‘weak’ and ‘light’ endings to the total number of verses in the different plays is similarly of importance. These are a separate subdivision of the masculine endings and are not to be confused with the feminine. They are formed by monosyllabic words, which are of subordinate importance in the syntactical structure of a sentence and therefore stand generally in thesis (sometimes even forming part of the feminine ending of a line), but which under the influence of the rhythm are used to carry the arsis. To the ‘weak’ endings belong the monosyllabic conjunctions and prepositions if used in this way: and, as, at, but (except), by, for, in, if, on, nor, than, that, to, with; as e.g. in the three middle lines of the following passage taken from Henry VIII (III. ii. 97–101):
§ 167. The ratio of what are known as ‘weak’ and ‘light’ endings to the total number of verses in the various plays is equally significant. These are a distinct subset of masculine endings and should not be mistaken for feminine endings. They consist of monosyllabic words that play a minor role in the grammatical structure of a sentence and generally appear in thesis (sometimes even contributing to the feminine ending of a line), but due to the rhythm, they are used to carry the arsis. The ‘weak’ endings include monosyllabic conjunctions and prepositions when used this way: and, as, at, but (except), by, for, in, if, on, nor, than, that, to, with; for example, in the three middle lines of the following excerpt from Henry VIII (III. ii. 97–101):
The ‘light’ endings include a number of other monosyllabic words, viz. articles, pronouns, auxiliary verbs, that are used by Shakespeare in a similar way.
The ‘light’ endings include several other monosyllabic words, such as articles, pronouns, and auxiliary verbs, that Shakespeare uses in a similar way.
These are, according to Ingram, am, are, art, be, been, but (=only), can, could, did(2), do(2), does(2), dost(2), ere, had(2), has(2), hast(2), have(2), he, how(3), I, into, is, like, may, might, shall, shalt, she, should, since, so(4), such(4), they, thou, though, through, till, upon, was, we, were, what(3), when(3), where(3), which, while, whilst, who(3), whom(3), why(3), will, would, yet (=tamen), you.
These are, according to Ingram, am, are, art, be, been, but (only), can, could, did(2), do(2), does(2), dost(2), ere, had(2), has(2), hast(2), have(2), he, how(3), I, into, is, like, may, might, shall, shalt, she, should, since, so(4), such(4), they, thou, though, through, till, upon, was, we, were, what(3), when(3), where(3), which, while, whilst, who(3), whom(3), why(3), will, would, yet (=tamen), you.
According to Ingram, the words marked (2) are to be regarded as light endings ‘only when used as auxiliaries’; those marked (3), ‘when not directly interrogative’; those marked (4), ‘when followed immediately by as.’ Such belongs to this class, ‘when followed by a substantive with an indefinite article, as Such a man.’ There are hardly any weak or light endings in the first and second periods of Shakespeare’s work. In the third they occur now and then and become more frequent in the last period. So we have e.g. in Antony and Cleopatra (1600) 3·53 per cent.; in The Tempest (1610) 4·59 per cent.; in Winter’s Tale (1611) 5·48 per cent.
According to Ingram, the words marked (2) should be considered light endings “only when used as auxiliaries”; those marked (3), “when they’re not directly interrogative”; and those marked (4), “when they’re immediately followed by as.” Such falls into this category “when followed by a noun with an indefinite article, as in Such a man.” There are hardly any weak or light endings in the first and second periods of Shakespeare’s work. In the third period, they appear occasionally and become more common in the last period. For example, in Antony and Cleopatra (1600) there are 3.53 percent; in The Tempest (1610) 4.59 percent; and in Winter’s Tale (1611) 5.48 percent.
In the application of this test we must chiefly keep in mind that these two groups of words are only to be considered as ‘weak’ and ‘light’ endings when they form the last arsis of the line, as is the case in the lines quoted from Henry VIII; but they are to be looked upon as part of a disyllabic or feminine ending if they form a supernumerary thesis following upon the last arsis:
In applying this test, we mainly need to remember that these two groups of words are only seen as ‘weak’ and ‘light’ endings when they make up the last arsis of the line, like in the lines quoted from Henry VIII; however, they should be considered part of a disyllabic or feminine ending if they follow a supernumerary thesis after the last arsis:
§ 168. Intimately connected with the quality of the line-endings is the proportion of unstopt or ‘run-on’ and ‘end-stopt’ lines, or the frequent or rare use the poet makes of enjambement. Like the feminine, weak, and light endings, this metrical peculiarity also occurs much more rarely in Shakespeare’s earlier than in his later plays. According to Furnivall’s statistics, e.g. in Love’s Labour’s Lost one run-on line occurs in 18·14 lines; in The Tempest, on the other hand, we have one run-on line in 3·02 lines; in Winter’s Tale the proportion rises to one in 2·12.
§ 168. Closely related to the quality of line endings is the ratio of unstopped or ‘run-on’ lines to ‘end-stopped’ lines, along with how frequently the poet uses enjambment. Similar to feminine, weak, and light endings, this metrical feature also appears much less often in Shakespeare’s earlier plays compared to his later works. According to Furnivall’s statistics, for example, in Love’s Labour’s Lost, there’s one run-on line for every 18.14 lines; in The Tempest, there's one run-on line for every 3.02 lines; and in Winter’s Tale, the ratio increases to one for every 2.12 lines.
As in the later plays run-on lines are often the result of the use of weak and light endings, we may perhaps assume with Hertzberg that at times the poet deliberately intended to give a greater regularity to the verse, if only by introducing the more customary masculine endings. From this point of view, then, both the weak and light endings and the run-on lines would have much less importance as metrical and chronological tests than they otherwise might have had.
As seen in the later plays, run-on lines often come from using weak and light endings. We might suggest, like Hertzberg, that sometimes the poet intended to create more regularity in the verse, even if it was just by using the more typical masculine endings. In this way, both the weak and light endings and the run-on lines would be less significant as tests for meter and chronology than they could have been.
§ 169. But there is another peculiarity of Shakespeare’s rhythms noticed by Hertzberg which is of greater value as a metrical test; viz. the use of the full syllabic forms of the suffixes -est, and especially of -es or -eth in the second and third pers. sing., as well as that of -ed of the preterite and of the past participle. These tests are all the more trustworthy because they do not so much arise from a conscious choice on the part of the poet as from the historical development of the language. This is indicated by the fact that the slurring of these endings prevails more and more in the later plays.
§ 169. However, there’s another unique aspect of Shakespeare’s rhythms pointed out by Hertzberg that serves as a more reliable metrical test; namely, the use of the complete syllabic forms of the suffixes -est, and especially -es or -eth in the second and third person singular, as well as -ed for the past tense and past participle. These tests are particularly trustworthy because they stem more from the natural evolution of the language than from a deliberate choice by the poet. This is shown by the fact that the neglect of these endings becomes increasingly common in his later plays.
According to Hertzberg’s statistics the proportion of fully sounded and slurred e is as follows:
According to Hertzberg’s statistics, the ratio of fully pronounced and slurred e is as follows:
1 H. VI. | T. Andr. | 1 H. IV. | H. VIII. | |
3 Pers. Sing. | 15·58% | 6·4% | 2·25% | 0% |
Pret. and P.P. | 20·9% | 21·72% | 15·41% | 4·2% |
It thus appears that in this respect also there is a decided progress from a more archaic and rigorous to a more modern usage.
It seems that in this regard, there is definitely a shift from a more old-fashioned and strict way of doing things to a more modern approach.
These are the five chief distinctive marks of Shakespeare’s verse in the different periods of his dramatic work. Besides these, Fleay has pointed out some other characteristics distinctive of the first period, namely, the more sparing use of Alexandrines, of shortened verses, and of prose, and the more frequent use of doggerel verses, stanzas, sonnets, and crossed rhymes.
These are the five main distinctive features of Shakespeare’s verse throughout the different periods of his plays. In addition to these, Fleay noted a few other characteristics that define the first period, such as the less frequent use of Alexandrines, shortened lines, and prose, along with a more common use of doggerel, stanzas, sonnets, and crossed rhymes.
The caesura is of special importance. Although from the first Shakespeare always allowed himself a great degree of variety in the caesura, he prefers during his first and second period the masculine and lyrical caesura after the second foot; in his third period, in Macbeth especially, both the masculine and lyrical caesura occur as frequently after the third foot, and side by side with these the epic caesura after the second and third foot pretty often (§ 90); during the fourth period a great many double caesuras occur corresponding to the numerous run-on lines.[161]
The caesura is really important. While Shakespeare always allowed for a lot of variety in his use of caesura, in his first and second periods, he tends to prefer the masculine and lyrical caesura after the second foot. In his third period, especially in Macbeth, you see the masculine and lyrical caesura happening more often after the third foot, along with the epic caesura appearing fairly frequently after both the second and third foot (§ 90); in his fourth period, there are many double caesuras that correspond to the many run-on lines.[161]
The old-fashioned disyllabic pronunciation of certain Romanic terminations (as -ion, -ier, -iage, -ial, &c.), so often met with in Marlowe, is not uncommon in Shakespeare, chiefly in his early plays, but also in those of later date (cf. § 107).
The outdated two-syllable pronunciation of certain Romanic endings (like -ion, -ier, -iage, -ial, etc.), which we often see in Marlowe, can also be found in Shakespeare, especially in his early works, but also in some of his later plays (cf. § 107).
As to inversion of rhythm (cf. § 88), it is a noteworthy feature that during the first period it occurs chiefly in the first foot and afterwards often in the third also.
As for the inversion of rhythm (cf. § 88), it’s interesting to note that during the first time period, it mainly happens in the first foot and later often in the third as well.
Disyllabic theses may be found in each of the five feet, sometimes even two at the same time:
Disyllabic theses can be found in each of the five feet, sometimes even two at once:
Disyllabic or polysyllabic line-endings are likewise of frequent occurrence:
Disyllabic or polysyllabic line endings are also common:
Slurring and other modifications of words to make them fit into the rhythm are very numerous and of great variety in Shakespeare; we have referred to them before, §§ 108–11; here only some examples may be repeated, as (a)bove, (be)cause, (ar)rested, th’ other, th’ earth, whe(th)er, ha(v)ing, e(v)il, eas(i)ly, barb(a)rous, inn(o)cent, acquit for acquitted, deject for dejected, &c.
Slurring and other adjustments to words to fit the rhythm are very common and varied in Shakespeare; we've mentioned them before, §§ 108–11; here, just a few examples can be repeated, such as (a)bove, (be)cause, (ar)rested, th’ other, th’ earth, whe(th)er, ha(v)ing, e(v)il, eas(i)ly, barb(a)rous, inn(o)cent, acquit for acquitted, deject for dejected, etc.
In some monosyllabic words, as fear, dear, hear, wear, tear, year, it is not always necessary to assume with Abbott (§§ 480–6) a disyllabic pronunciation, e.g. déàr, yéàr. On the contrary, in many cases it is more probable that the emphasis laid on the monosyllable takes the place of the missing thesis, e.g.:
In some one-syllable words, like fear, dear, hear, wear, tear, year, it's not always necessary to assume, as Abbott suggested (§§ 480–6), a two-syllable pronunciation, such as déàr or yéàr. In fact, in many cases it makes more sense that the stress placed on the one-syllable word fills in for the missing beat, for example:
The two last examples also show the absence of the first thesis, which often occurs in Shakespeare; frequently, as in these cases, it is compensated by an extra stress laid on the first accented syllable (cf. § 84); e.g.:
The last two examples also demonstrate the lack of the first thesis, which often happens in Shakespeare; often, as in these cases, it is balanced out by an added emphasis on the first stressed syllable (see § 84); for example:
For the same reason a thesis is sometimes wanting in the interior of a line:
For the same reason, a thesis is sometimes missing in the middle of a line:
With respect to the word-stress and the metrical value of syllables there are in Shakespeare many archaic peculiarities. Some of those we have already dealt with; for the rest the reader must consult the works in which they are specially discussed.
With regard to the stress on words and the rhythmic value of syllables, Shakespeare has many old-fashioned quirks. We've already covered some of these; for the others, the reader should refer to the works that focus specifically on them.
Alexandrines are frequently met with, especially where one line is divided between two speakers:
Alexandrines are often encountered, especially when one line is split between two speakers:
but also in many other cases:
but also in many other situations:
Frequently, however, such apparent Alexandrines can easily be read as regular five-foot lines, for which they were certainly intended by the poet, by means of the ordinary metrical licences, as slurring, double theses, epic caesuras, or feminine endings[162]; e.g.:
Frequently, though, these seemingly Alexandrines can easily be interpreted as regular five-foot lines, which the poet certainly intended, using standard metrical liberties like slurring, double theses, epic caesuras, or feminine endings[162]; e.g.:
Among the blank verse lines in Shakespeare’s plays there are sometimes interspersed examples of the native four-beat long line. This occurs, apart from lyrical passages, most frequently in the early plays, e.g. in Love’s Labour’s Lost and in The Comedy of Errors, III. i. 11–84, from which the following specimen is taken:
Among the blank verse lines in Shakespeare’s plays, there are occasionally examples of the native four-beat long line mixed in. This mostly happens, apart from lyrical sections, in the early plays, like in Love’s Labour’s Lost and in The Comedy of Errors, III. i. 11–84, from which the following example is taken:
Occasionally these verses exhibit a somewhat more extended structure, so that they might pass for Alexandrines; mostly, however, a line of this type is connected by rhyme with an unmistakable four-beat line; cf.
Occasionally, these verses display a slightly longer structure, allowing them to resemble Alexandrines; however, most of the time, a line of this type is linked by rhyme to a clear four-beat line; cf.
For this reason the second line also is to be scanned somehow or other in conformity with the general four-beat rhythm of the passage; possibly we should assume an initial thesis of five syllables. In lyrical passages four-beat lines are often combined also with four-foot iambic verse of the freer type (cf. § 132); e.g. in the following passage from Midsummer Night’s Dream, II. i. 2–7:
For this reason, the second line should also be read in line with the overall four-beat rhythm of the passage; we might consider starting with an initial five-syllable thesis. In lyrical sections, four-beat lines are often mixed with a more flexible four-foot iambic verse (see § 132); for example, in the following excerpt from Midsummer Night’s Dream, II. i. 2–7:
The two first lines belong to the first, the following to the latter species. Sometimes the rhythm of such rhymed four-foot verses is purely trochaic, e.g. in the witches’ song in Macbeth, IV, sc. i.
The first two lines are from the first type, and the rest are from the second type. Sometimes the rhythm of these rhymed four-foot verses is strictly trochaic, like in the witches’ song in Macbeth, IV, sc. i.
There are also unrhymed iambic lines of four feet, which usually have a caesura in the middle; e.g.:
There are also unrhymed iambic lines of four feet, which usually have a pause in the middle; e.g.:
Not unfrequently, however, such verses only apparently have four feet, one missing foot or part of it being supplied by a pause (cf. Metrik, ii, § 164):
Not infrequently, however, such verses only seem to have four beats, with one missing beat or part of it being filled in by a pause (cf. Metrik, ii, § 164):
Isolated two- and three-foot lines occur mostly at the beginning or at the end of a speech, or in pathetic passages of monologues; this usually causes a somewhat longer pause, such as is suitable to the state of feeling of the speaker.
Isolated two- and three-foot lines mostly appear at the beginning or end of a speech, or in emotional moments of monologues; this often leads to a slightly longer pause, which fits the speaker's emotional state.
Short exclamations as Why, Fie, Alack, Farewell are often to be regarded as extra-metrical.
Short exclamations like Why, Fie, Alack, Farewell are often considered extra-metrical.
Prose also is often used for common speeches not requiring poetic diction.[163].
Prose is also often used for everyday speeches that don’t need poetic language.[163].
In pénaltý alíke; | and ’tis not hárd, I thínk,
For mén so óld as wé | to kéep the péace.
And píty ’tís | you líved at ódds so lóng.
But nów, my lórd, | what sáy you tó my súit?
My child is yét | a stránger ín the wórld;
She hás not séen | the chánge of fóurteen yéars:
Let twó more súmmers | wíther ín their príde,
Ére we may thínk her rípe | to bé a bríde.
The éarth hath swállow’d | áll my hópes but shé,
Shé is the hópeful lády | óf mý éarth:
But wóo her, géntle Páris, | gét her héart,
My wíll to hér consént | is bút a párt; &c.
Pút the wild wáters |ín this róar, | alláy them.
The ský, it séems, | would póur down stínking pítch,
Bút that the séa, | móunting to the wélkin’s chéek,
Dáshes the fíre óut. | Ó, I have súffered
With thóse thát I saw súffer: | a bráve véssel,
Who hád, no dóubt, | some nóble créature ín her,
Dash’d áll to píeces. | Ó, the crý did knóck
Agáinst my véry héart. | Poor sóuls, they pérish’d.
Had Í been ány gód of pówer, | I wóuld
Have súnk the séa | withín the éarth, | or ére
It shóuld the góod ship | só have swállow’d | ánd
The fráughting sóuls withín her. |
No móre amázement: | téll your píteous héart
There’s nó harm dóne. |
Í have done nóthing | bút in cáre of thée,
Of thée, my déar one, | thée, my dáughter, | whó
Art ígnoránt of whát thou árt, | nought knówing
Of whénce I ám, | nór that I ám more bétter
Than Próspero, | máster óf a fúll poor céll,
And thý no gréater fáther. |
Did néver méddle wíth my thóughts. | &c.
For the dramatic blank verse of Shakespeare’s contemporaries and immediate successors see Metrik, vol. ii, §§ 167–78, and the works there enumerated. The reader may also be referred to various special treatises[164] of later date, which supply detailed evidence in the main confirming the correctness of the author’s former observations.
For the impressive blank verse of Shakespeare’s contemporaries and immediate successors, check out Metrik, vol. ii, §§ 167–78, along with the works listed there. Readers can also refer to several later special treatises[164] that provide detailed evidence mainly supporting the author’s previous observations.
In this place we mention only the characteristic peculiarities of the most important poets of that group.
In this section, we only highlight the key features of the most significant poets in that group.
Ben Jonson’s blank verse is not so melodious as that of Shakespeare.
Ben Jonson's blank verse isn't as musical as Shakespeare's.
There is often a conflict between the logical and the rhythmical stress, as e.g.:
There’s often a conflict between logical and rhythmic stress, as for example:
Theses of two and even more syllables likewise occur in many verses, e.g.:
Theses of two or more syllables also appear in many verses, for example:
frequently also feminine or even disyllabic unaccented endings are used:
frequently, feminine or even two-syllable unaccented endings are also used:
These licences often give to his verse an uneven and rugged rhythm.
These licenses often create an uneven and rough rhythm in his poetry.
There are only slight differences from Shakespeare’s usage with regard to the caesura, inversion of accent, &c. Run-on lines, as well as rhyme and the use of prose, are common in his plays; some of his comedies are almost entirely written in prose.
There are only minor differences from Shakespeare’s usage concerning the pause in a line, the inversion of stress, etc. Run-on lines, as well as rhyme and the use of prose, are common in his plays; some of his comedies are almost entirely written in prose.
Feminine and gliding endings, however (sometimes of three, and even of four supernumerary syllables), are often used; in some plays even more often than masculine ones. (For specimens cf. § 91.)
Feminine and flowing endings, sometimes with three or even four extra syllables, are commonly used; in some plays, they're even more frequent than masculine endings. (For examples, see § 91.)
Feminine endings, combined with disyllabic or polysyllabic first thesis, are common; now and then we find epic caesuras or other theses in the interior of the line:
Feminine endings, paired with two-syllable or multi-syllable first beats, are common; occasionally we come across epic pauses or other beats within the line:
It deserves particular notice that in such feminine endings or epic caesuras, where the superfluous thesis consists of one monosyllabic word, this very often has something of a subordinate accent:
It’s worth noting that in feminine endings or epic pauses, where the extra beat is one short word, this often carries a kind of subordinate emphasis:
The following passage from The Maid’s Tragedy[165] shows the character of Fletcher’s rhythms:
The following passage from The Maid’s Tragedy[165] shows the character of Fletcher’s rhythms:
Your gréat maintáiners áre not hére, | they dáre not:
’Wóuld they were áll, and árm’d! | I wóuld speak lóud;
Here’s óne should thúnder tó them! | will you téll me?
Thou hást no hópe to ’scápe; | Hé that dares móst,
And dámns awáy his sóul | to dó thee sérvice,
Wíll sóoner fetch méat | fróm a húngry líon,
Than cóme to réscue thée; | thou’st déath abóut thee.
Who hás undóne thine hónour, | póison’d thy vírtue,
Ánd, of a lóvely róse, | léft thee a cánker?
Whose hónour thóu hast múrder’d, | whose gráve open’d
And só pull’d ón the góds, | thát in their jústice
They múst restóre him | flésh agáin, | and lífe,
And ráise his drý bònes | tó revénge his scándal.
§ 175. There are no plays extant written by Beaumont alone; plays, however, from Fletcher’s pen alone do exist, and we can thus gain a clear insight into the distinctive features of his rhythm and style, and are so enabled to determine with some prospect of certainty the share which Beaumont had in the plays due to their joint-authorship. This has been attempted with some success by Fleay, and especially by Boyle.[166]
§ 175. There are no surviving plays written solely by Beaumont; however, there are plays that exist solely from Fletcher’s pen. This allows us to gain a clear understanding of his unique rhythm and style, enabling us to figure out with some level of certainty the contribution Beaumont made to the plays they co-authored. Fleay and especially Boyle. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ have attempted this with some success.
The characteristics of Beaumont’s style and versification may be summed up as follows:
The features of Beaumont's writing style and rhythm can be summarized like this:
He often uses prose and verse, rhymed and unrhymed verses in the same speech; feminine endings occur rarely, but there are many run-on lines; occasionally we find ‘light’ and ‘weak’ endings; double theses at the beginning and in the interior of the line are met with only very seldom. His verse, therefore, is widely different from Fletcher’s; cf. the following passage from The Maid’s Tragedy (II. i, pp. 24–5):
He frequently mixes prose and poetry, using both rhymed and unrhymed verses in the same speech; feminine endings are rare, but there are plenty of run-on lines; sometimes we encounter ‘light’ and ‘weak’ endings; double theses at the start and within the line occur very rarely. His verse, therefore, is quite different from Fletcher’s; see the following passage from The Maid’s Tragedy (II. i, pp. 24–5):
Sóme of thy mírth | intó Aspátiá!
Nóthing but sád thòughts | ín her bréast do dwéll:
Methínks, a méan betwíxt you | wóuld do wéll.
But Í could rún my cóuntry. | Í love, tóo,
To dó those thíngs | that péople ín love dó.
It wére a fítter hóur | for mé to láugh,
When át the áltar | thé relígious príest
Were pácifýing | thé offénded pówers
With sácrifíce, than nów. | Thís should have béen
My níght; and áll your hánds | have béen emplóy’d
In gíving mé | a spótless ófferíng
To yóung Amíntor’s béd, | as wé are nów
For yóu. | Párdon, Evádne; ’wóuld, my wórth
Were gréat as yóurs, | ór that the kíng, or hé,
Or bóth thought só! | Perháps, he fóund me wórthless:
But, tíll he díd so, | ín these éars of míne,
These crédulous éars, | he póur’d the swéetest wórds
That árt or lóve could fráme. | Íf he were fálse,
Párdon it Héaven! | ánd if Í did wánt
Vírtue, | you sáfely máy | forgíve that tóo;
For Í have lóst | nóne that I hád from yóu.
§ 176. Fewer peculiarities appear in the verse of Massinger, who (according to Fleay and Boyle) wrote many plays in partnership with Beaumont and Fletcher; for this reason his verse has been examined by those scholars in connexion with that of Beaumont and Fletcher. Like Fletcher, Massinger uses a great many feminine endings; but he has many run-on lines as well as ‘light’ and ‘weak’ endings. In contradistinction to Beaumont’s practice, he seldom uses prose and rhyme, but he has a great many double endings. His verse is very melodious, similar on the whole to that of Shakespeare’s middle period.
§ 176. There are fewer oddities in the verse of Massinger, who (according to Fleay and Boyle) co-wrote several plays with Beaumont and Fletcher; for this reason, his verse has been analyzed by those scholars along with that of Beaumont and Fletcher. Like Fletcher, Massinger frequently uses feminine endings, but he also includes many run-on lines as well as 'light' and 'weak' endings. Unlike Beaumont, he rarely uses prose and rhyme, but he does have many double endings. His verse is very melodic, generally resembling that of Shakespeare's middle period.
The following passage may serve as an example:
The following passage might be a good example:
Solémnized wíth all pómp | and céremóny;
In whích the dúke is nót his ówn, | but hérs:
Nay, évery dáy, indéed, | he ís her créature,
For néver mán so dóated;— | bút to téll
The ténth part óf his fóndness | to a stránger,
Would árgue mé of fíction. | Steph. Shé’s, indéed,
A lády óf most éxquisite fórm. | Tibet. She knóws it,
And hów to príze it. | Steph. I néver héard her tainted
In ány póint of hónour. | Tib. Ón my lífe,
She’s cónstant tó his béd, | and wéll desérves
His lárgest fávours. | Bút, when béauty is
Stámp’d on great wómen, | gréat in bírth and fórtune,
And blówn by flátterers | gréater thán it ís,
’Tis séldom únaccómpaníed | with príde;
Nor ís she thát way frée: | presúming ón
The dúke’s afféction, | ánd her ówn desért,
She béars hersélf | with súch a májestý,
Lóoking with scórn on áll | as thíngs benéath her,
That Sfórza’s móther, | thát would lóse no párt
Of whát was ónce her ówn, | nor hís fair síster,
A lády tóo | acquáinted wíth her wórth,
Will bróok it wéll; | and hówsoé’er their háte
Is smóther’d fór a tíme, | ’tis móre than féar’d
It wíll at léngth break óut. | Steph. Hé in whose pówer it ís,
Turn áll to the bést. | Tibia. Come, lét us tó the cóurt;
We thére shall sée all bráverý and cóst,
That árt can bóast of. | Steph. I’ll béar you cómpaný.
The versification of the other dramatists of this time cannot be discussed in this place. It must suffice to say that the more defined and artistic blank verse, introduced by Marlowe and Shakespeare, was cultivated by Beaumont, Massinger, Chapman, Dekker, Ford, &c.; a less artistic verse, on the other hand, so irregular as sometimes to approximate to prose, is found in Ben Jonson and Fletcher, and to a less degree in Middleton, Marston, and Shirley. (Cf. Metrik, ii. §§ 171–8.)
The poetry of other playwrights from this period can't be covered here. It's enough to say that the more refined and artistic blank verse introduced by Marlowe and Shakespeare was further developed by Beaumont, Massinger, Chapman, Dekker, Ford, and others. In contrast, a less artistic verse, which can sometimes be so irregular that it feels like prose, appears in the works of Ben Jonson and Fletcher, and to a lesser extent in those of Middleton, Marston, and Shirley. (Cf. Metrik, ii. §§ 171–8.)
§ 177. The blank verse of Milton, who was the first since Surrey to use it for epic poetry, is of greater importance than that of the minor dramatists, and is itself of particular interest. Milton’s verse, it is true, cannot be said to be always very melodious. On the contrary, it sometimes can be brought into conformity with the regular scheme of the five-foot verse only by level stress and by assigning full value to syllables that in ordinary pronunciation are slurred or elided (see § 83).
§ 177. The blank verse of Milton, who was the first since Surrey to use it for epic poetry, is more significant than that of the lesser dramatists and is particularly noteworthy itself. It’s true that Milton’s verse isn’t always very melodious. In fact, sometimes it only fits the regular pattern of five-foot verse through consistent stress and by giving full weight to syllables that are usually slurred or dropped in everyday speech (see § 83).
Generally, however, Milton’s blank verse has a stately rhythmical structure all its own, due to his masterly employment of the whole range of metrical artifices. In the first place, he frequently employs inversion of accent, both at the beginning of a line and after a caesura; sometimes together with double thesis in the interior of the line, as e.g.:
Generally, though, Milton’s blank verse has a unique, dignified rhythmical structure thanks to his skillful use of a wide variety of metrical techniques. First off, he often uses accent inversion, both at the start of a line and after a pause; sometimes combined with double thesis in the middle of the line, as for example:
Quite peculiar, however, to Milton’s blank verse is the extensive use he makes of run-on lines, and in connexion with the great variety in his treatment of the caesura.
Quite peculiar, however, to Milton’s blank verse is the extensive use he makes of run-on lines, and in connection with the great variety in his treatment of the caesura.
Milton has more than 50 per cent. run-on lines; sometimes we have from three to six lines in succession that are not stopt.
Milton has over 50 percent run-on lines; sometimes we see three to six lines in a row that aren't stopped.
As to the caesura, we mostly have masculine and lyric caesura (more seldom epic caesuras) after the second or third foot; besides, we have frequent double caesuras (generally caused by run-on lines), about 12 per cent.[167]
As for the caesura, we mainly have masculine and lyrical caesuras (and less often epic caesuras) occurring after the second or third foot; additionally, we frequently see double caesuras (usually due to run-on lines), about 12 per cent.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
Finally, as the third peculiarity of Milton’s epic blank verse, the almost exclusive use of masculine endings deserves mention. The number of feminine endings in the various books of Paradise Lost and of Paradise Regained is only from 1 to 5 per cent.; in Samson Agonistes, on the other hand, we have about 16 per cent., nearly as many as in the plays of Shakespeare’s second period.[168]
Finally, another distinctive feature of Milton’s epic blank verse is the almost exclusive use of masculine endings. The number of feminine endings in the various books of Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained ranges from just 1 to 5 percent; in Samson Agonistes, however, it’s about 16 percent, which is nearly as many as in the plays from Shakespeare’s second period.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
The following example (Paradise Lost, V. 1–25) may illustrate Milton’s blank verse:
The following example (Paradise Lost, V. 1–25) may show Milton’s blank verse:
For this period the blank verse of Dryden is most interesting; he uses it with great skill, but also with great restriction of its former licences.
For this time, Dryden's blank verse is really fascinating; he uses it with a lot of skill, but also with much less freedom than before.
Even the number of the inversions of accent decreases considerably and is only about 12 per cent. We find scarcely any examples of double thesis, slurring of syllables, missing theses in the beginning or in the interior of the line, &c.
Even the amount of accent inversions drops significantly and is only around 12 percent. We hardly find any examples of double thesis, slurring of syllables, or missing theses at the beginning or in the middle of the line, etc.
The caesura, which is the chief means by which variety is imparted to the metre, is generally masculine or lyric, and as a rule occurs after the second or third foot; occasionally we have double caesuras. Epic caesuras are rare, if they occur at all. Feminine endings are frequent, their proportion being about 25 to 28 per cent. Light and weak endings are rarely to be found amongst the masculine endings, nor are run-on lines (about 20 per cent.) frequently used by Dryden.
The caesura, which is the main way to add variety to the meter, is usually masculine or lyrical and typically happens after the second or third beat; sometimes we have double caesuras. Epic caesuras are uncommon, if they even exist. Feminine endings are common, making up about 25 to 28 percent. Light and weak endings are rarely found among the masculine endings, nor are run-on lines (about 20 percent) often used by Dryden.
Most of the characteristic features of his blank verse will be found exemplified in the following extract:
Most of the key features of his blank verse can be seen in the following excerpt:
Impróbable | they shóu’d presúme t’attémpt,
Impóssible | they shóu’d efféct their wísh.
Go bíd our móving Pláins of Sánd | lie stíll,
And stír not, | whén the stórmy Sóuth blows hígh:
From tóp to bóttom | thóu hast tóss’d my Sóul,
And nów ’tis ín the mádness | of the Whírl.
Requír’st a súdden stóp? | unsáy thy lýe,
That máy in týme do sómewhat. |
For, sínce it pléases yóu | it shóu’d be fórg’d
’Tis fít it shóu’d: | Fár be it fróm your Sláve,
To ráise distúrbance | ín your Sácred Bréast.
Nor dúrst offénd my Lóve, | but thát Presúmption ...
No Príest, no Céremónies | óf their Séct:
Or, gránt we thése defécts | cou’d bé supplý’d,
Hów cou’d our Próphet dó | an áct so báse,
Só to resúme his Gífts, | and cúrse my Cónquests,
By máking mé unháppy! | Nó, the Sláve
That tóld thee só absúrd a stóry, | lý’d.
The blank verse of Lee, Otway, N. Rowe, and Addison[169] is of similar structure.
The blank verse of Lee, Otway, N. Rowe, and Addison[169] is of similar structure.
The blank verse of Young (Night Thoughts), Cowper (The Task), and other less important poets of the eighteenth century is of a similar uniform structure; cf. Metrik, ii, §193
The blank verse of Young (Night Thoughts), Cowper (The Task), and other less significant poets of the 18th century has a similar, consistent structure; see Metrik, ii, §193
§ 180. In the blank verse of the nineteenth century we find both tendencies, the strict and the free treatment of this verse-form; according to their predominant employment in epic and dramatic poetry respectively, we may call them the epic and the dramatic form of the verse. They may be chiefly distinguished by the peculiarities to be observed in the blank verse of Milton and Thomson on the one hand, and of Dryden on the other; i.e. by the admission or exclusion of feminine endings.
§ 180. In the blank verse of the nineteenth century, we see both approaches, the strict and the free use of this verse form; depending on their main application in epic and dramatic poetry, we can refer to them as the epic and the dramatic form of the verse. They can mainly be differentiated by the characteristics found in the blank verse of Milton and Thomson on one side, and Dryden on the other; that is, by whether they include or exclude feminine endings.
The strict form of the epic blank verse, with masculine endings, is preferred in the narrative or reflective poems of Coleridge, Wordsworth, Southey, Shelley, Keats, W.S. Landor, Longfellow, D. G. Rossetti, Mrs. Browning, Robert Browning, Matthew Arnold, Tennyson, Swinburne, and Edwin Arnold.[170]
The strict form of epic blank verse, with masculine endings, is favored in the narrative or reflective poems of Coleridge, Wordsworth, Southey, Shelley, Keats, W.S. Landor, Longfellow, D.G. Rossetti, Mrs. Browning, Robert Browning, Matthew Arnold, Tennyson, Swinburne, and Edwin Arnold.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
The free form is represented, mainly, in the dramatic verse of the same and other poets, being used by Coleridge (in his translation of The Piccolomini), Wordsworth, Southey, Lamb, Byron, Shelley, W.S. Landor, Tennyson, Matthew Arnold, and others.[171]
The free form is mainly seen in the dramatic verse of this and other poets, used by Coleridge (in his translation of The Piccolomini), Wordsworth, Southey, Lamb, Byron, Shelley, W.S. Landor, Tennyson, Matthew Arnold, and others.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
CHAPTER XIII
Trochaic meters
Puttenham (1589) is the first metrician who quotes four-foot trochaic lines; similar verses also occur during the same period in Shakespeare’s Love’s Labour’s Lost, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and other plays.
Puttenham (1589) is the first metrician to mention four-foot trochaic lines; similar verses appear during the same time in Shakespeare’s Love’s Labour’s Lost, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and other plays.
Whether they were introduced directly on foreign models, or originated indirectly from the influence of the study of the ancients by means of a regular omission of the first thesis of the iambic metres, we do not know. It is likewise uncertain who was the first to use strict trochaic verses deliberately in English, or in what chronological order the various trochaic metres formed in analogy with the iambic ones entered into English poetry.
Whether they were directly inspired by foreign models or came about indirectly through the influence of studying ancient texts due to a consistent omission of the first thesis of the iambic meters, we can't say for sure. It's also unclear who was the first to intentionally use strict trochaic verses in English, or the order in which the different trochaic meters, developed in parallel with the iambic ones, were incorporated into English poetry.
The longest trochaic lines, to which we first turn our attention, seem to be of comparatively late date.
The longest trochaic lines that we’ll focus on first appear to be from a relatively recent time.
The eight-foot trochaic line, more exactly definable as the acatalectic trochaic tetrameter (cf. § 77), is the longest trochaic metre we find in English poetry. As a specimen of this metre the first stanza of a short poem by Thackeray written in this form has been quoted already on page 127. As a rule, however, this acatalectic feminine line is mingled with catalectic verses with masculine endings, as e.g. in the following burlesque by Thackeray, Damages Two Hundred Pounds:
The eight-foot trochaic line, specifically known as the acatalectic trochaic tetrameter (see § 77), is the longest trochaic meter found in English poetry. An example of this meter is the first stanza of a short poem by Thackeray, which has already been cited on page 127. Generally, this acatalectic feminine line mixes with catalectic verses that have masculine endings, as seen in the following burlesque by Thackeray, Damages Two Hundred Pounds:
While the catalectic iambic tetrameter is a line of seven feet (the last arsis being omitted), the catalectic trochaic tetrameter loses only the last thesis, but keeps the preceding arsis; and on this account it remains a metre of eight feet.
While the catalectic iambic tetrameter is a line of seven feet (with the last arsis left out), the catalectic trochaic tetrameter only omits the last thesis while keeping the arsis before it; for this reason, it has a total of eight feet.
Rhyming couplets of this kind of verse, when broken up into short lines, give rise to stanzas with the formulas a~b c~b4, d~e~f~e~4, or, if inserted rhymes are used, we have the form a~b a~b4 (alternating masculine and feminine endings), or a~b~a~b~4 (if there are feminine endings only). In both these cases the eight-foot rhythm is distinctly preserved to the ear. But this is no longer the case in another trochaic metre of eight feet, where the theses of both the fourth and the eighth foot are wanting, as may be noticed in Swinburne, A Midsummer Holiday, p. 132:
Rhyming couplets of this type of verse, when divided into short lines, create stanzas with the patterns a~b c~b4, d~e~f~e~4, or, if inserted rhymes are used, we get the structure a~b a~b4 (alternating masculine and feminine endings), or a~b~a~b~4 (if there are only feminine endings). In both instances, the eight-foot rhythm is clearly maintained audibly. However, this is not the case in another eight-foot trochaic meter, where both the fourth and the eighth foot are missing, as can be seen in Swinburne, A Midsummer Holiday, p. 132:
still less when such lines are broken up by inserted rhyme in stanzas of the form a b a b4. In cases, too, where the eight-foot trochaic verse is broken up by leonine rhyme, the rhythm has a decided four-foot cadence on account of the rapid recurrence of the rhyme.
still less when such lines are interrupted by added rhyme in stanzas of the form a b a b4. In situations where the eight-foot trochaic verse is disrupted by leonine rhyme, the rhythm has a clear four-foot cadence due to the quick repeated rhyme.
§ 182. The seven-foot trochaic line is theoretically either a brachycatalectic tetrameter with a feminine or a hypercatalectic trimeter with a masculine ending. An example of the first kind we had on p. 128. A more correct specimen is the following line from the same poem:
§ 182. The seven-foot trochaic line is theoretically either a shortened tetrameter with a feminine ending or an extended trimeter with a masculine ending. An example of the first type can be found on p. 128. A more accurate example is the following line from the same poem:
The verses quoted on p. 128 are incorrect in so far as the caesura occurs at an unusual place, viz. in the middle of the fourth foot, instead of after it, as in the example just quoted.
The verses quoted on p. 128 are incorrect because the caesura happens at an unusual spot, specifically in the middle of the fourth foot, instead of after it, as shown in the example just mentioned.
They show, however, the origin of a pretty frequently occurring anisorhythmical stanza, which is derived from this metre by means of the use of inserted rhyme; lines 1 and 3 having a trochaic, lines 2 and 4, on the other hand, an iambic rhythm; cf. e.g. the following stanza from a poem by Suckling (Poets, iii. 741):
They demonstrate the origin of a commonly occurring anisorhythmical stanza, which comes from this meter through the use of inserted rhyme; lines 1 and 3 have a trochaic rhythm, while lines 2 and 4 have an iambic rhythm. For example, see the following stanza from a poem by Suckling (Poets, iii. 741):
When there are masculine rhymes throughout, the stanza is felt distinctly as consisting of alternate lines of four and three feet (a4 b3 a4 b3).
When there are masculine rhymes throughout, the stanza is clearly recognized as having alternating lines of four and three feet (a4 b3 a4 b3).
The seven-foot rhythm, however, remains, if the three-foot half-lines only have masculine endings, and the four-foot half-lines remain feminine; as is the case in Swinburne’s poem Clear the Way (Mids. Hol., p. 143):
The seven-foot rhythm still holds, even if the three-foot half-lines only have masculine endings, and the four-foot half-lines stay feminine; as shown in Swinburne’s poem Clear the Way (Mids. Hol., p. 143):
This, of course, is likewise the case, if the verses are broken up into stanzas by inserted rhyme (a4 b3 a4 b3).
This is also true if the verses are divided into stanzas with added rhyme (a4 b3 a4 b3).
More frequently than this correct seven-foot verse, with either a feminine or masculine ending, we find the incorrect type, consisting of a catalectic and a brachycatalectic dimeter, according to the model of the well-known Low Latin verse:
More often than this proper seven-foot line, with either a feminine or masculine ending, we come across the incorrect type, which consists of a catalectic and a brachycatalectic dimeter, following the pattern of the well-known Low Latin verse:
which is often confounded with the former (cf. § 135). The following first stanza of a poem by Suckling (Poets, iii. 471) is written in exact imitation of this metre:
which is often confused with the former (cf. § 135). The following first stanza of a poem by Suckling (Poets, iii. 471) is written in exact imitation of this meter:
Although only the long lines rhyme, the stanza is commonly printed in short lines (a4 b3 ~ c4 b3 ~). Still more frequently we find short-lined stanzas of the kind (a4 b3 ~ a4 b3 ~) as well as the other sub-species with masculine rhymes only: a4 b3 a4 b3.
Although only the long lines rhyme, the stanza is usually printed in short lines (a4 b3 ~ c4 b3 ~). Even more often, we see short-lined stanzas of the type (a4 b3 ~ a4 b3 ~) as well as other variations with only masculine rhymes: a4 b3 a4 b3.
Strictly the caesura ought to occur after the third foot, as it does in the first line; generally, however, it is within the third foot, and so this metre as well as the stanza formed by insertion of rhyme acquires an anisorhythmical character, as e.g. in the following quatrain by Moore:
Strictly speaking, the pause should happen after the third foot, like it does in the first line; usually, though, it falls within the third foot, making this meter, along with the stanza created by adding rhyme, take on an irregular rhythm, as seen in the following quatrain by Moore:
When masculine rhymes are used throughout, the six-foot rhythm is preserved in anisorhythmical stanzas of this kind just as well as when lines like the first of those in the example quoted above, Day by day, &c., are broken up by inserted rhymes (a ~ b ~ a ~ b3 ~); or again when they have masculine endings in the second half-lines (a ~ b a ~ b3). If the first half is masculine, however, and the second feminine (or if both have masculine endings on account of a pause caused by the missing thesis), the verses have a three-foot character, e.g. in Moore:
When masculine rhymes are used consistently, the six-foot rhythm is maintained in anisorhythmical stanzas just as effectively as when lines like the first one from the example above, Day by day, are interrupted by added rhymes (a ~ b ~ a ~ b3 ~); or when they feature masculine endings in the second half-lines (a ~ b a ~ b3). However, if the first half is masculine and the second is feminine (or if both have masculine endings due to a pause from the missing thesis), the verses take on a three-foot quality, as seen in Moore:
Such verses, of course, can be used also in stanzas with either masculine or feminine endings only.
Such lines can also be used in stanzas with either masculine or feminine endings only.
As in the five-foot iambic verse, the caesura generally occurs either after the second or third foot (in which case it is feminine), or usually within the second or third foot (masculine caesura).
As in five-foot iambic verse, the pause typically happens either after the second or third foot (making it feminine), or usually within the second or third foot (masculine pause).
In a few cases this metre is also used without rhyme; e.g. in Robert Browning’s One Word More (v. 313–21); feminine endings are used here throughout; run-on lines occasionally occur, and the caesura shows still greater variety in consequence. A specimen is given in Metrik, ii, § 217
In a few cases, this meter is also used without rhyme; for example, in Robert Browning’s One Word More (v. 313–21); feminine endings are used throughout here; run-on lines occasionally happen, and the caesura shows even more variety as a result. A specimen is provided in Metrik, ii, § 217.
§ 185. The four-foot trochaic line (discussed above in its relationship to the eight- and seven-foot verse) is the most frequent of all trochaic metres. It likewise occurs either with alternate feminine and masculine rhymes or with rhymes of one kind only. We find it both in stanzas and in continuous verse. The latter form, with feminine rhymes only, we have in Shakespeare’s Tempest, IV. i. 106–9:
§ 185. The four-foot trochaic line (mentioned earlier regarding its connection to the eight- and seven-foot verses) is the most common of all trochaic meters. It can also be found with alternating feminine and masculine rhymes or with a single type of rhyme. We see it used in both stanzas and in continuous verse. The latter form, featuring only feminine rhymes, appears in Shakespeare's Tempest, IV. i. 106–9:
With masculine endings only it is found in Love’s Labour’s Lost, IV. iii. 101:
With just masculine endings, it appears in Love’s Labour’s Lost, IV. iii. 101:
As in the five-foot verse, here also the caesura if used at all may fall at different places; mostly its place is after or within the second foot.
As in the five-foot verse, the pause, if it’s used, can happen in different spots here as well; usually, it occurs after or within the second foot.
This metre is used also, in an unrhymed form and with feminine endings throughout, in Longfellow’s Song of Hiawatha, in which there are noticeably more run-on lines than in rhymed four-foot trochaics.
This meter is also used, in an unrhymed form with feminine endings throughout, in Longfellow’s Song of Hiawatha, where there are noticeably more run-on lines than in rhymed four-foot trochaics.
§ 186. The three-foot trochaic line, both with feminine and with masculine endings, has been discussed in previous sections (§§ 182–3) so far as it is derived from seven- and six-foot verse. It may also be derived from the six-foot metre through the breaking up of the line by means of leonine rhyme, as in the following rhyming couplets:
§ 186. The three-foot trochaic line, both with feminine and masculine endings, has been covered in earlier sections (§§ 182–3) in relation to its origins from seven- and six-foot verse. It can also come from the six-foot meter by breaking the line using leonine rhyme, as shown in the following rhyming couplets:
§ 187. Two-foot trochaic lines generally occur among longer lines of anisometrical stanzas; but we also find them now and then without longer lines in stanzas and poems. Feminine verses of this kind, which may be regarded as four-foot lines broken up by leonine rhyme, we have in Dodsley (Poets, xi. 112):
§ 187. Two-foot trochaic lines usually appear in longer lines of uneven stanzas; however, we also find them occasionally without longer lines in stanzas and poems. Feminine verses of this type, which can be seen as four-foot lines interrupted by leonine rhyme, are present in Dodsley (Poets, xi. 112):
and masculine ones in a short poem, possibly by Pope, To Quinbus Flestrin, the Man-Mountain (p. 481):
and masculine ones in a short poem, possibly by Pope, To Quinbus Flestrin, the Man-Mountain (p. 481):
It is common to all these trochaic metres that their structure, especially that of the longer ones, is (except for the varying caesura) very regular, and that they have only very few rhythmical licences, chiefly slight slurring.
It’s common across all these trochaic meters that their structure, particularly the longer ones, is quite regular (aside from the varying caesura), and they have very few rhythmic liberties, mostly just slight slurring.
CHAPTER XIV
Iambic, Anapestic, Trochaic, Dactylic Metres
§ 189. The iambic-anapaestic rhythm has been touched on before in connexion with the four-stressed verse (cf. § 72) which was developed from the alliterative long line, and which at the end of the Middle English and in the beginning of the Modern English period, under the growing influence of the even-beat metres, had assumed more or less regular iambic-anapaestic character.
§ 189. The iambic-anapaestic rhythm has been mentioned earlier in relation to the four-stressed verse (see § 72), which evolved from the alliterative long line. By the end of the Middle English period and the start of the Modern English period, influenced by the rise of regular rhythms, it took on a more consistent iambic-anapaestic form.
When during the same period a definitive separation of the rising and falling rhythms took place, the even-measured rhythm of this four-stressed modern metre became more conspicuous and was made up frequently, although not always, of a regular series of iambic-anapaestic measures. It was thus differentiated still more distinctly from the uneven-beat Old and Middle English long line, the character of which mainly rested on the four well-marked beats only. It deserves notice further that it was not until the Modern English period that the rest of the iambic-anapaestic and trochaic-dactylic metres (the eight-, seven-, six-, five-, four-, three-, and two-foot verses) were imitated from the then common corresponding iambic rhythms.
When a clear separation of rising and falling rhythms occurred during the same period, the steady rhythm of this four-stressed modern meter became more noticeable. It often consisted, though not always, of a regular series of iambic-anapaestic measures. This further distinguished it from the uneven-beat Old and Middle English long line, which primarily relied on the four distinct beats. It's also important to note that it wasn't until the Modern English period that the other iambic-anapaestic and trochaic-dactylic meters (the eight-, seven-, six-, five-, four-, three-, and two-foot verses) were modeled after the then-common corresponding iambic rhythms.
In the sixteenth century Puttenham quotes four-foot dactylics, and in his time the dactylic hexameter had already been imitated in English. But most of the other trisyllabic rising and falling metres, except the Septenary, occur first in English poetry at the end of the eighteenth and during the course of the nineteenth century.
In the sixteenth century, Puttenham referenced four-foot dactylics, and by then, the dactylic hexameter had already been adapted into English. However, most of the other trisyllabic rising and falling meters, except for the Septenary, appeared in English poetry only at the end of the eighteenth century and throughout the nineteenth century.
It must also be noted that in many cases, especially in the eight-, four-, and two-foot verses of this kind (i.e. in those metres that are connected with the old four-stressed verse), the rising and falling rhythms are not strictly separated, but frequently intermingle and even supplement one another.
It should also be noted that in many cases, especially in the eight-, four-, and two-foot verses of this type (i.e., in those meters that relate to the old four-stressed verse), the rising and falling rhythms are not strictly separated, but often intermingle and even complement each other.
I. Iambic-anapaestic Metres.
In this metre each of the two periods begins with an iambic measure and then passes into anapaests, the feminine ending of the first (or third) line and the iambic beginning of the second (or fourth) forming together an anapaest.
In this meter, each of the two sections starts with an iambic beat and then transitions into anapests, with the feminine ending of the first (or third) line and the iambic start of the second (or fourth) line coming together to create an anapaest.
In a poem by Swinburne (Poems, ii. 144) four-foot anapaestic and dactylic lines alternate so as to form anapaestic periods:
In a poem by Swinburne (Poems, ii. 144), four-foot anapestic and dactylic lines alternate to create anapestic periods:
For other less correct specimens of such combinations of verse cf. Metrik, ii, §225.
For other less accurate examples of such combinations of verse, see Metrik, ii, §225.
§ 191. The seven-foot iambic-anapaestic verse would seem to be of rare occurrence except in the most recent period; in long lines and masculine rhymes it has been used by Swinburne, as e.g. in The Death of Richard Wagner;[173] we quote the middle stanza:
§ 191. The seven-foot iambic-anapaestic verse seems to appear rarely, except in the most recent times; in long lines and masculine rhymes, it has been used by Swinburne, for example, in The Death of Richard Wagner;[173] we quote the middle stanza:
The occurrence of an iambus or a spondee at the end and sometimes in the middle of the verse is remarkable, as well as the arbitrary treatment of the caesura, which does not, as in the iambic Septenary verse, always come after the fourth foot (as in the second line), but sometimes in other places; in the first and third lines, for instance, there is a feminine caesura in the fifth foot.
The presence of an iamb or a spondee at the end and sometimes in the middle of the line is notable, as is the flexible handling of the caesura, which doesn't always follow the fourth foot like it does in iambic seven-syllable verse (as seen in the second line). Instead, it can appear in different spots; for example, in the first and third lines, there's a feminine caesura in the fifth foot.
More often this Septenary metre occurs in short lines (and therefore with fixed masculine caesura). In this form it appears as early as the seventeenth century in a poem by the Earl of Dorset, To Chloris:
More often, this seven-syllable meter appears in short lines (and thus has a fixed masculine pause). In this form, it shows up as early as the seventeenth century in a poem by the Earl of Dorset, To Chloris:
Another specimen of the same rhythm, very artistically handled (cf. Metrik, i, § 226) is Charles Wolfe’s well-known poem The Burial of Sir John Moore. The same metre also occurs with masculine rhymes.
Another example of the same rhythm, very artistically done (see Metrik, i, § 226), is Charles Wolfe’s famous poem The Burial of Sir John Moore. The same meter also features masculine rhymes.
We quote the following verses from Tennyson’s Maud to illustrate this metre, which, however, in consequence of the fluctuating proportion of iambic and anapaestic measures occurring in it is handled very differently by different poets (cf. Metrik, ii, § 227):
We quote the following lines from Tennyson’s Maud to show this meter, which, due to the changing balance of iambic and anapaestic rhythms in it, is interpreted quite differently by various poets (see Metrik, ii, § 227):
The caesura is sometimes masculine after the third foot (as in lines 1 and 3), sometimes feminine in the fourth (line 2) or the fifth (line 4); so that its position is quite indeterminate. The rhymes are mostly masculine, but feminine rhymes are also met with, as e.g. in Mrs. Browning’s Confessions. Swinburne’s verses are printed in long lines, it is true, but they are broken into short lines by inserted masculine and feminine rhymes.
The caesura sometimes comes after the third foot (like in lines 1 and 3), sometimes after the fourth (line 2) or the fifth (line 4); so its placement is pretty flexible. Most of the rhymes are masculine, but you also come across feminine rhymes, like in Mrs. Browning’s Confessions. It’s true that Swinburne’s verses are printed in long lines, but they get divided into short lines by inserted masculine and feminine rhymes.
The rhythm is here almost entirely anapaestic; the caesura occurs in the most diverse places and may be either masculine or feminine. The ending of the line is masculine throughout, as well as in Robert Browning’s Saul (iii. 146–96), but with many run-on lines.
The rhythm here is mostly anapaestic; the pause happens in various places and can be either masculine or feminine. The end of the line is consistently masculine, just like in Robert Browning’s Saul (iii. 146–96), but there are many run-on lines.
In Swinburne’s A Word from the Psalmist (A Mids. Holiday, p. 176) we have another treatment of this metre. As a rule the line begins with an anapaest, and continues in pure iambic rhythm:
In Swinburne’s A Word from the Psalmist (A Mids. Holiday, p. 176) we have another take on this meter. Generally, the line starts with an anapest and continues in pure iambic rhythm:
In other examples it has an iambic or spondaic rhythm at the beginning and end, with an anapaestic part in the middle, as in The Seaboard (ib., p. 3) by the same poet:
In other examples, it has an iambic or spondaic rhythm at the beginning and end, with an anapaestic section in the middle, like in The Seaboard (ib., p. 3) by the same poet:
In A Century of Roundels, p. 1, &c., Swinburne uses this metre, which also occurs in Tennyson’s Maud, with feminine and masculine endings alternately.
In A Century of Roundels, p. 1, &c., Swinburne uses this meter, which also appears in Tennyson’s Maud, with alternating feminine and masculine endings.
§ 194. The four-foot iambic-anapaestic verse is essentially identical with the four-stressed verse treated of above (§ 72), except that it has assumed a still more regular, even-beat rhythm in modern times; generally it begins with an iambus and anapaests follow, as in the stanza quoted from Burns (§ 190). Occasionally this metre has an almost entirely anapaestic structure; as e.g. in Moore, In the Morning of Life:
§ 194. The four-foot iambic-anapaestic verse is basically the same as the four-stressed verse discussed earlier (§ 72), except that it has developed an even more consistent, even rhythm in modern times; it typically starts with an iambus followed by anapaests, like in the stanza quoted from Burns (§ 190). Sometimes, this meter has an almost completely anapaestic structure, as seen in Moore's In the Morning of Life:
In other examples the rhythm is chiefly iambic, intermingled with occasional anapaests; as e.g. in Moore’s You Remember Ellen:
In other examples, the rhythm is primarily iambic, mixed with occasional anapaests; for example, in Moore’s You Remember Ellen:
We have the same metre (two anapaests following the first iambic measure) in Rowe, Shenstone, Moore, and others, sometimes with alternate masculine and feminine rhymes.
We have the same meter (two anapaests following the first iambic measure) in Rowe, Shenstone, Moore, and others, sometimes with alternating masculine and feminine rhymes.
This metre is used by Gay, Goldsmith, Scott, Moore, Longfellow, Robert Browning, and others; it is also found with an anapaest following the first iambic measure, and either with masculine and feminine rhymes alternately, as in the example quoted above, or (as is most usual) with these rhymes in indiscriminate succession.
This meter is used by Gay, Goldsmith, Scott, Moore, Longfellow, Robert Browning, and others; it also appears with an anapest following the first iambic measure, and either with alternating masculine and feminine rhymes, as in the example quoted above, or (as is most common) with these rhymes in random succession.
In Shakespeare’s Midsummer Night’s Dream, III. ii. 448–63 (apart from the four-foot trochaic end-lines of the half-stanzas), we also have such verses apparently; the iambic-anapaestic character being clearly shown by a couplet like the following:
In Shakespeare’s Midsummer Night’s Dream, III. ii. 448–63 (besides the four-foot trochaic end-lines of the half-stanzas), we also have verses like these; the iambic-anapaestic nature is clearly illustrated by a couplet like the following:
II. Trochaic-dactylic Metres
Theoretically the acatalectic dactylic verse in its rhymed form ought always to have trisyllabic or at least feminine caesura and ending. As a fact, however, these metres have just as frequently or perhaps more frequently masculine caesuras and rhymes.
Theoretically, the perfect dactylic verse in its rhymed form should always have a three-syllable or at least a feminine pause and ending. In reality, however, these meters often have masculine pauses and rhymes just as often, if not more so.
The eight-foot trochaic-dactylic verse, alternating occasionally with iambic-anapaestic lines, occurs in Longfellow’s The Golden Legend, iv:[175]
The eight-foot trochaic-dactylic verse, sometimes alternating with iambic-anapestic lines, appears in Longfellow’s The Golden Legend, iv:__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
Elsie.
Elsie.
Prince Henry.
Prince Harry.
Elsie.
Elsie.
There are, as appears from this specimen, a great many licences in these verses; the caesura, mostly in the fourth foot, is masculine in lines 1, 5, 6, feminine in 2; so that the second half of the line has an iambic-anapaestic rhythm. Besides this most of the lines have secondary caesuras in different places of the verse; iambic-anapaestic verses (like 3, 4, 6) are decidedly in the minority. The rhymes are both feminine and masculine, but there is no regular alternation between them, as might be supposed from the above short specimen.
There are, as shown in this example, a lot of variations in these lines; the pause, mostly in the fourth foot, is masculine in lines 1, 5, and 6, and feminine in line 2. This means that the second half of the line has an iambic-anapaestic rhythm. Additionally, most of the lines have secondary pauses in different spots. Iambic-anapaestic lines (like 3, 4, and 6) are definitely the minority. The rhymes are both feminine and masculine, but there isn’t a consistent alternation between them, as one might expect from this brief example.
Verses of this form with masculine endings printed in short lines occur in a song by Burns (p. 217):
Verses like this with masculine endings printed in short lines appear in a song by Burns (p. 217):
Generally this metre is combined with iambic-anapaestic verses, as e.g. in Mrs. Browning’s Confessions (iii. 60) mentioned above, § 192, which is, for the greatest part, written in this form:
Generally, this meter is combined with iambic-anapaestic verses, as in Mrs. Browning’s Confessions (iii. 60) mentioned above, § 192, which is mostly written in this form:
The verses are trochaic with two dactyls at the beginning. The caesura is variable; masculine in line 1; trisyllabic after the second arsis in line 2; a double caesura occurs in line 3, viz. a feminine one in the first foot, a masculine one in the fourth. The rhymes are both masculine and feminine.
The verses use a trochaic meter with two dactyls at the start. The pause in the line varies; it's masculine in line 1, trisyllabic after the second stressed syllable in line 2, and there’s a double pause in line 3, with a feminine one in the first foot and a masculine one in the fourth. The rhymes are a mix of masculine and feminine.
§ 202. The four-foot trochaic-dactylic verse is mentioned first by Puttenham (p. 140), and occurs pretty often; seldom unrhymed as in Southey, The Soldier’s Wife;[176] mostly rhymed, as e.g. in Thackeray, The Willow Tree (p. 261):
For other specimens with occasional masculine rhymes see Metrik, ii, § 238; amongst them is one from Swinburne’s A Century of Roundels, of principally trochaic rhythm.
For other examples with occasional masculine rhymes, check Metrik, ii, § 238; included is one from Swinburne’s A Century of Roundels, which primarily follows a trochaic rhythm.
Masculine rhymes occur in a song by Moore:
Masculine rhymes appear in a song by Moore:
We have a strict dactylic rhythm, extending to the end of the line, in a short poem, To the Katydid, quoted by Goold Brown.[177]
We have a strict dactylic rhythm that goes all the way to the end of the line in a short poem, To the Katydid, quoted by Goold Brown.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
§ 204. Two-foot dactylic or trochaic-dactylic verses (derived from the corresponding four-foot verses by means of inserted or leonine rhyme) are fairly common; generally, it is true, they have intermittent rhyme (a b c b),so that they are in reality four-foot rhyming couplets, merely printed in a two-foot arrangement, as in Tennyson, The Charge of the Light Brigade (p. 260). There are, however, also some poems consisting of real short lines of this metre, i.e. of two-foot lines with alternately tumbling and feminine or tumbling and masculine rhymes; as, e.g., in Burns’s Jamie, come try me (p. 258), and in Hood, The Bridge of Sighs (p. 1):
§ 204. Two-foot dactylic or trochaic-dactylic verses (coming from the related four-foot verses through added or leonine rhyme) are quite common; generally speaking, they often have intermittent rhyme (a b c b), so they are actually four-foot rhyming couplets, just formatted in a two-foot layout, as seen in Tennyson's The Charge of the Light Brigade (p. 260). However, there are also some poems that consist of real short lines in this meter, meaning two-foot lines with alternating tumbling and feminine or tumbling and masculine rhymes; for example, in Burns’s Jamie, come try me (p. 258), and in Hood's The Bridge of Sighs (p. 1):
Masculine rhymes throughout occur in Thackeray, The Mahogany Tree (p. 51), and in an imitation of the old four-stressed alliterative long line in Longfellow, The Saga of King Olaf I (p. 546):
Masculine rhymes appear throughout Thackeray, The Mahogany Tree (p. 51), and in a version of the traditional four-stressed alliterative long line in Longfellow, The Saga of King Olaf I (p. 546):
§ 205. One-foot dactylic verses are not likely to occur except in anisometrical stanzas. We are unable to quote any proper example of them, but the following two four-lined half-stanzas from Scott’s Pibroch of Donald Dhu (p. 488), in which some of the two-foot lines admit of being resolved into verses of one foot, may serve to illustrate this metre:
§ 205. One-foot dactylic verses are unlikely to appear except in uneven stanzas. We can't provide a proper example of them, but the following two four-line half-stanzas from Scott’s Pibroch of Donald Dhu (p. 488), where some of the two-foot lines can be broken down into one-foot verses, may help illustrate this meter:
CHAPTER XV
NON-STROPHIC, ANISOMETRIC COMBINATIONS OF RHYMED VERSE
§ 206. Non-strophic anisometrical combinations of rhymed verse consist of lines of different metres, rhyming in pairs, and recurring in a definite order of succession. One of these combinations, known as the Poulter’s Measure (Alexandrine + Septenary), already occurs in the Middle English Period (cf. § 146) and has remained in use down to the present day. It was at one time extremely popular, and has in the Modern English Period been imitated in other metres.
§ 206. Non-repetitive, uneven combinations of rhymed verse are made up of lines of different meters that rhyme in pairs and follow a specific order. One of these combinations, called Poulter’s Measure (Alexandrine + Septenary), was already in use during the Middle English Period (see § 146) and continues to be used today. It was once very popular and has been mimicked in other meters during the Modern English Period.
The most common variety of this metre is that in which the verses have an iambic-anapaestic rhythm; they are usually printed in short lines, as e.g. in a poem by Charles Kingsley:
The most common type of this meter is one where the verses have an iambic-anapaestic rhythm; they are typically printed in short lines, like in a poem by Charles Kingsley:
Before his time Burns had composed a poem in the same metre, Here’s a Health to them that’s awa (p. 245); and at the end of the seventeenth century Philips (Poets, vi. 560) wrote a Bacchanalian Song in similar verses.
Before his time, Burns had written a poem in the same meter, Here’s a Health to them that’s awa (p. 245); and at the end of the seventeenth century, Philips (Poets, vi. 560) wrote a Bacchanalian Song in similar verses.
In the same metre are the Nonsense Rhymes by Edward Lear,[178] as well as many other quatrains of a similar kind, the humour of which is often somewhat coarse.
In the same meter are the Nonsense Rhymes by Edward Lear,[178] as well as many other quatrains of a similar kind, the humor of which is often a bit crude.
An unusual sub-species of this metre, consisting of trochaic verses, occurs only very rarely in Leigh Hunt, e.g. in Wealth and Womanhood (p. 277):
An unusual sub-species of this meter, made up of trochaic verses, occurs only very rarely in Leigh Hunt, for example in Wealth and Womanhood (p. 277):
He used the reverse order in Odes iv. 1. In Wordsworth’s poem The Gipsies (iv. 68) we have the couplets: a a5 b b4 c c5 d d4, &c., but not divided into stanzas.
He used the reverse order in Odes iv. 1. In Wordsworth’s poem The Gipsies (iv. 68), we see the couplets: a a5 b b4 c c5 d d4, &c., but they aren't divided into stanzas.
Five- and three-foot lines a5 a3 b5 b3 c5 c3 d5 d3, &c., occur in Ben Jonson, The Forest, XI. Epode (Poets, vi, pp. 555–6); and with reverse order (a3 a5 b3 b5 c3 c5, &c.) in his Epigrams (Poets, iv. 546).
Five- and three-foot lines a5 a3 b5 b3 c5 c3 d5 d3, &c., appear in Ben Jonson's The Forest, XI. Epode (Poets, vi, pp. 555–6); and in reverse order (a3 a5 b3 b5 c3 c5, &c.) in his Epigrams (Poets, iv. 546).
The combination of five- and two-foot lines seems to occur in modern poets only; e.g. in W. S. Landor, Miscellanies, clxxv (ii. 649):
The mix of five- and two-foot lines appears to exist only in modern poets; for example, in W. S. Landor, Miscellanies, clxxv (ii. 649):
With crossed rhymes (feminine and masculine rhymes, alternately) this combination occurs in Mrs. Browning, A Drama of Exile (i. 12), where the scheme is a ~5 b2 a ~5 b2 c ~5 d2 c ~5 d2, and in R. Browning, A Grammarian’s Funeral (iv. 270), the formula being a5 b ~2 a5 b ~2 c5 d ~2 c5 d ~2, &c.
With alternating rhymes (feminine and masculine rhymes), this combination appears in Mrs. Browning's A Drama of Exile (i. 12), where the pattern is a ~5 b2 a ~5 b2 c ~5 d2 c ~5 d2, and in R. Browning's A Grammarian’s Funeral (iv. 270), with the formula being a5 b ~2 a5 b ~2 c5 d ~2 c5 d ~2, etc.
In the same poet we have three- and two-foot iambic-anapaestic lines with the formula a ~3 b2 c ~3 b2 d ~3 e2 f ~3 e2; in The Englishman in Italy (iv. 186):
In the same poet, we find three- and two-foot iambic-anapaestic lines with the structure a ~3 b2 c ~3 b2 d ~3 e2 f ~3 e2; in The Englishman in Italy (iv. 186):
In Mrs. Browning we find this metre, which might be taken also as five-foot iambic-anapaestic couplets, broken up by internal rhyme (according to the formula a ~3 b2 a ~3 b2 c ~3 d2 c ~3 d2, &c.) in A Drama of Exile (i. 3). For other specimens see Metrik, ii, §§ 244–8.
In Mrs. Browning’s work, we see a meter that can also be described as five-foot iambic-anapaestic couplets, interrupted by internal rhyme (following the pattern a ~3 b2 a ~3 b2 c ~3 d2 c ~3 d2, etc.) in A Drama of Exile (i. 3). For more examples, check Metrik, ii, §§ 244–8.
A number of other anisometrical combinations of verses will be mentioned in Book II, in the chapter on the non-strophic odes.
A few other uneven combinations of verses will be discussed in Book II, in the chapter about the non-strophic odes.
CHAPTER XVI
IMITATIONS OF CLASSICAL FORMS OF VERSE AND STANZA
§ 209. The English hexameter. Of all imitations of classical metres in English the best known and most popular is the hexameter. In the history of its development we have to distinguish two epochs—that of the first and somewhat grotesque attempts to introduce it into English poetry in the second half of the sixteenth century, and that of its revival in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.
§ 209. The English hexameter. Among all the attempts to use classical meters in English, the most famous and widely accepted is the hexameter. When looking at its history, we can identify two main periods: the first involves the initial and somewhat awkward efforts to bring it into English poetry in the late sixteenth century, and the second marks its resurgence in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.
The hexameter was introduced into English poetry by Gabriel Harvey (1545–1630), who, in his Encomium Lauri, attempted to imitate the quantitative classic verse in the accentual English language, paying attention as much as possible to the quantity of the English words.
The hexameter was brought into English poetry by Gabriel Harvey (1545–1630), who, in his Encomium Lauri, tried to mimic the quantitative classic verse in the accentual English language, focusing as much as he could on the length of the English words.
Sir Philip Sidney followed with some poetical portions of his Arcadia written in this metre; Stanyhurst (1545–1618) translated the first four books of Virgil in quantitative hexameters; in 1591 Abraham Fraunce translated Virgil’s Alexis, and William Webbe, the metrist, turned into English the Georgics and two eclogues of the same poet, also in quantitative hexameters; but all these efforts had little success on account of the unfitness of English for quantitative treatment. Robert Greene also employed this metre in some of his minor poems, but followed the accentual system; on this account he was more successful, but he found no imitators, and during the latter part of the seventeenth century the metre fell altogether into disuse.
Sir Philip Sidney followed with some poetic sections of his Arcadia written in this meter; Stanyhurst (1545–1618) translated the first four books of Virgil into quantitative hexameters; in 1591, Abraham Fraunce translated Virgil’s Alexis, and William Webbe, the metrist, turned the Georgics and two eclogues of the same poet into English, also in quantitative hexameters; however, all these efforts were not very successful due to the unsuitability of English for quantitative treatment. Robert Greene also used this meter in some of his minor poems but followed the accentual system; for this reason, he was more successful, yet he did not attract any imitators, and during the late seventeenth century, the meter fell completely out of use.
In one isolated case about the middle of the eighteenth century it was revived by an anonymous translator of Virgil’s first and fourth eclogues. But English hexameters did not begin to come into favour again before the close of the eighteenth century, when the influence of the study of German poetry began to make itself felt. Parts of Klopstock’s Messiah were translated by William Taylor (1765–1836) in the metre of the original. He also turned several passages of Ossian into hexameters (published in June, 1796, in the Monthly Magazine), and maintained that the hexameter, modified after the German fashion by the substitution of the accentual for the quantitative principle and the use of trochees instead of spondees, could be used with as good effect in English as in German. About the same time, Coleridge used the hexameter in some of his minor poems, Hymn to the Earth, Mahomet, &c., and Southey chose this form for his longer poem, A Vision of Judgement.
In a rare instance around the middle of the eighteenth century, an anonymous translator revived Virgil’s first and fourth eclogues. However, English hexameters didn’t start gaining popularity again until the late eighteenth century, influenced by the growing interest in German poetry. William Taylor (1765–1836) translated parts of Klopstock’s Messiah in the same meter as the original. He also adapted several passages from Ossian into hexameters (published in June 1796 in the Monthly Magazine) and argued that hexameters, modified in the German style by replacing the quantitative principle with an accentual one and using trochees instead of spondees, could work just as effectively in English as in German. Around the same time, Coleridge employed the hexameter in some of his smaller poems, such as Hymn to the Earth, Mahomet, and others, while Southey chose this form for his longer poem, A Vision of Judgement.
But it was not till the middle of the nineteenth century that the English hexameter came into somewhat more extensive use. It was at first chiefly employed in translations from the German. Goethe’s Hermann und Dorothea has been translated five times at least (for the first time by Cochrane, Oxford, 1850). The metre has also been employed in translations of classical poetry, especially Homer and Virgil, and in original poems, none of which, however, have attained general popularity except those by Longfellow, especially his Evangeline and The Courtship of Miles Standish
But it wasn't until the middle of the nineteenth century that the English hexameter was used more widely. It was initially mostly used in translations from German. Goethe’s Hermann und Dorothea has been translated at least five times (the first time by Cochrane, Oxford, 1850). The meter has also been used in translations of classical poetry, especially Homer and Virgil, as well as in original poems, but none of those have gained widespread popularity except for those by Longfellow, particularly his Evangeline and The Courtship of Miles Standish.
§ 210. The hexameter is a six-foot catalectic verse theoretically consisting of five successive dactyls and a trochee. But the greatest rhythmical variety is given to this verse by the rule which allows a spondee to be used instead of any of the dactyls; in the fifth foot, however, this rarely occurs. In the sixth foot, moreover, the spondee is admissible instead of the trochee. The structure of the verse may thus be expressed by the following formula:
§ 210. The hexameter is a six-foot verse that technically includes five dactyls and a trochee. However, the rhythm gets a lot of variety from a rule that lets you use a spondee in place of any of the dactyls; this is uncommon in the fifth foot, though. In the sixth foot, you can also use a spondee instead of the trochee. The structure of the verse can be represented by the following formula:
–́⏑͞⏑–́⏑͞⏑–́⏑͞⏑–́⏑͞⏑–́⏑⏑–́⏑̄.
–́⏑͞⏑–́⏑͞⏑–́⏑͞⏑–́⏑͞⏑–́⏑⏑–́⏑̄.
The main difficulty in imitating this metre in English is caused by the large number of monosyllabic words in the English language, and especially by its lack of words with a spondaic measurement.
The main challenge in replicating this meter in English is due to the abundance of monosyllabic words in the English language, particularly its scarcity of words with a spondaic rhythm.
Some recent attempts to imitate the hexameter in English according to the principles of quantity have been altogether unsuccessful, as e.g. Cayley’s (Transactions of the Philological Society, 1862–3, Part i, pp. 67–85). Matthew Arnold’s method too proved impracticable (On Translating Homer, London, 1862); he attempted and recommended the regulation of the rhythm of the verse by the accent and at the same time sought not to neglect the quantity altogether. But the only successful method of adapting the hexameter to English use is that adopted by William Taylor, who followed the example of the Germans in observing only the accentual system and substituting the accentual trochee for the spondee. Sir John Herschel in his translation of Homer and Longfellow in his original poems have done the same.
Some recent attempts to mimic the hexameter in English based on the principles of quantity have been completely unsuccessful, like Cayley’s (Transactions of the Philological Society, 1862–3, Part i, pp. 67–85). Matthew Arnold’s approach also turned out to be impractical (On Translating Homer, London, 1862); he tried to regulate the rhythm of the verse using accent while also trying not to overlook quantity completely. However, the only successful way to adapt the hexameter for English is the approach used by William Taylor, who followed the example of the Germans by acknowledging only the accentual system and replacing the spondee with the accentual trochee. Sir John Herschel in his translation of Homer and Longfellow in his original poems have done the same.
Even with these modifications a certain harshness now and then is inevitable in hexameters both in German and particularly in English, where many lines occur consisting nearly throughout of monosyllables only, as e.g. the following lines from Longfellow’s Evangeline:
Even with these changes, some harshness is unavoidable now and then in hexameters, both in German and especially in English, where many lines consist almost entirely of monosyllables, like in the following lines from Longfellow’s Evangeline:
Other passages, however, prove the English hexameter to be as capable of harmony as the German if treated in this way; cf. e.g. the introductory verses of the same poem:[179]
Other passages, however, show that the English hexameter can be just as harmonious as the German when handled this way; see, for example, the introductory verses of the same poem:__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
§ 211. Besides these repeated attempts to naturalize the hexameter in English, many other kinds of classical verses and stanzas have been imitated in English literature from the middle of the sixteenth and afterwards during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Among these the Elegiac verse of the ancients (hexameter alternating with pentameter) was attempted by Sidney in his Arcadia. Of more modern experiments in accordance with the accentual principle, Coleridge’s translation of Schiller’s well-known distich may be quoted:
§ 211. In addition to these ongoing attempts to adapt the hexameter into English, numerous other types of classical verses and stanzas have been reflected in English literature from the mid-sixteenth century and throughout the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Among these, the Elegiac verse of the ancients (hexameter alternating with pentameter) was tried by Sidney in his Arcadia. A more modern example that follows the accentual principle can be seen in Coleridge’s translation of Schiller’s famous couplet:
Swinburne, among others, has written his Hesperia (Poems and Ballads, i, 1868, p. 200) in rhymed verses of this kind:
Swinburne, among others, has written his Hesperia (Poems and Ballads, i, 1868, p. 200) in rhymed verses of this kind:
The third line is remarkable for its anacrusis, which occasionally occurs also in other English hexameters.
The third line is notable for its anacrusis, which sometimes happens in other English hexameters as well.
Sidney in his Arcadia, p. 229 (333, xxxvii), also tried the minor Asclepiad, which has the following scheme:
Sidney in his Arcadia, p. 229 (333, xxxvii), also tried the minor Asclepiad, which has the following scheme:
–́–̆–́⏑⏑–́|–́⏑⏑–́⏑–̆.
–́–̆–́⏑⏑–́|–́⏑⏑–́⏑–̆.
As an example of Spenser’s six-foot iambic line Guest (ii. 270) quotes the verses:
As an example of Spenser’s six-foot iambic line Guest (ii. 270) quotes the verses:
In his Arcadia, p. 228 (232, xxxvi), Sidney used the Phaleuciac verse of eleven syllables in stanzas of six lines marked by the recurrence of a refrain. The rhythm is the same as in the Hendecasyllabics of modern poets, in the following lines of Swinburne (Poems, i. 233):
In his Arcadia, p. 228 (232, xxxvi), Sidney used the Phaleuciac verse of eleven syllables in stanzas of six lines featuring a repeated refrain. The rhythm matches that of the Hendecasyllabics used by modern poets, as seen in the following lines from Swinburne (Poems, i. 233):
The same metre was inaccurately imitated by Coleridge (p. 252) who put a dactyl in the first foot:
The same meter was inaccurately copied by Coleridge (p. 252), who placed a dactyl in the first foot:
Finally, the rhymed Choriambics may be mentioned, used also by Swinburne (Poems, ii. 141–3):
Finally, the rhymed Choriambics can also be mentioned, which were used by Swinburne (Poems, ii. 141–3):
It is certainly not an easy task to write in this form of stanza, as it is rather difficult in English to imitate feet of three or even two long syllables (Molossus and Spondee). Yet it has been used by several poets, as by Sidney and his contemporary, the metrist William Webbe; in the eighteenth century by Dr. Watts, Cowper, and Southey (cf. Metrik, ii, § 253); and in later times by Swinburne, from whose Poems and Ballads a specimen may be quoted:
It’s definitely not easy to write in this type of stanza since it’s quite challenging in English to mimic feet of three or even two long syllables (Molossus and Spondee). However, several poets have used it, including Sidney and his contemporary, the metrist William Webbe; in the eighteenth century by Dr. Watts, Cowper, and Southey (cf. Metrik, ii, § 253); and more recently by Swinburne, from whose Poems and Ballads we can quote an example:
Of other kinds of classical verses and stanzas the Alcaic metre has occasionally been imitated, e.g. by Tennyson. The scheme of the Latin original is as follows:
Of other types of classical verses and stanzas, the Alcaic metre has sometimes been copied, for example, by Tennyson. The pattern of the Latin original is as follows:
Tennyson’s poem is an Ode to Milton (p. 281):
Tennyson’s poem is an Ode to Milton (p. 281):
There are besides in Sidney’s Arcadia, pp. 227 (232, xxxv) and 533, Anacreontic stanzas of varying length, consisting of 3–11 verses and constructed in this way:
There are also in Sidney’s Arcadia, pp. 227 (232, xxxv) and 533, Anacreontic stanzas of different lengths, made up of 3–11 lines and structured like this:
§ 213. In connexion with these imitations of classical verses and stanzas without rhyme some other forms should be mentioned which took their rise from an attempt to get rid of end-rhyme. Orm was the first to make the experiment in his rhymeless Septenary, but he found no followers in the Middle English period; Surrey, several centuries later, on the other hand, did achieve success with his blank verse. In the beginning of the seventeenth century Thomas Campion, in his Observations on the Arte of English Poesy (London, 1602), tried to introduce certain kinds of rhymeless verses and stanzas, mostly trochaic; e.g. trochaic verses of three measures (with masculine endings) and of five measures (with feminine endings); distichs consisting of one five-foot iambic and one six-foot trochaic verse (both masculine); then a free imitation of the Sapphic metre and other kinds of rhymeless stanzas, quoted and discussed in Metrik, ii, § 254. But these early and isolated attempts need not engage our attention in this place, as they had probably no influence on similar experiments of later poets.
§ 213. Along with these imitations of classical verses and stanzas without rhyme, there are other forms worth mentioning that arose from efforts to eliminate end-rhyme. Orm was the first to experiment with his rhymeless Septenary, but he found no followers during the Middle English period. In contrast, Surrey, several centuries later, succeeded with his blank verse. At the start of the seventeenth century, Thomas Campion, in his Observations on the Arte of English Poesy (London, 1602), attempted to introduce various types of rhymeless verses and stanzas, mostly trochaic; for example, trochaic verses of three measures (with masculine endings) and five measures (with feminine endings); distichs made up of one five-foot iambic verse and one six-foot trochaic verse (both masculine); then a free imitation of the Sapphic meter and other types of rhymeless stanzas, which are quoted and discussed in Metrik, ii, § 254. However, these early and isolated attempts do not require our attention here, as they likely had no impact on similar experiments by later poets.
In Milton, e.g., we find a stanza corresponding to the formula a b5 c d3, in his imitation of the fifth Ode of Horace, Book I, used also by Collins, Ode to Evening (Poets, ix. 526):
In Milton, for example, we see a stanza that follows the pattern a b5 c d3, in his take on the fifth Ode of Horace, Book I, which was also used by Collins in Ode to Evening (Poets, ix. 526):
Southey uses the same stanza (ii. 145); to him we owe several other rhymeless stanzas of the form a b4 c d3 (ii. 212), a3 b c4 d3 (ii. 210) (both of anapaestic verses), a b c4 d3 (ii. 148), a3 b c5 d3 (ii. 159), a4 b c3 d5 (ii. 182), a b4 c5 d3 (ii. 187), a4 b3 c5 d3 (ii. 189); all consisting of iambic verses.
Southey uses the same stanza (ii. 145); to him we owe several other rhymeless stanzas of the form a b4 c d3 (ii. 212), a3 b c4 d3 (ii. 210) (both of anapaestic verses), a b c4 d3 (ii. 148), a3 b c5 d3 (ii. 159), a4 b c3 d5 (ii. 182), a b4 c5 d3 (ii. 187), a4 b3 c5 d3 (ii. 189); all consisting of iambic verses.
The same poet also uses a stanza of five iambic lines of the form a5 b3 c4 d e3 (iii. 255), and another of the form a5 b3 c5 d4 e3 in his ode The Battle of Algiers (iii. 253):
The same poet also uses a stanza of five iambic lines in the form a5 b3 c4 d e3 (iii. 255), and another in the form a5 b3 c5 d4 e3 in his ode The Battle of Algiers (iii. 253):
A stanza of similar construction (formula a b c5 d e3 is used by Mrs. Browning in The Measure (iii. 114).
A stanza with a similar structure (formula a b c5 d e3) is used by Mrs. Browning in The Measure (iii. 114).
Various isometrical and anisometrical stanzas of this kind occur in Lord Lytton’s Lost Tales of Miletus; one of these consists of three of Coleridge’s Hendecasyllabics, followed by one masculine verse of similar form, and has the formula a ~ b ~ c ~ d5; it is used, e.g., in Cydippe:
Various isometric and anisometric stanzas like this appear in Lord Lytton’s Lost Tales of Miletus; one of these includes three of Coleridge’s Hendecasyllabics, followed by one masculine verse of a similar kind, and has the formula a ~ b ~ c ~ d5; it is used, for example, in Cydippe:
In another stanza used in The Wife of Miletus an ordinary masculine blank verse alternates with a Hendecasyllabic; a third of the form a b c d4 consists of trochaic verses.
In another stanza used in The Wife of Miletus, a typical masculine blank verse alternates with a Hendecasyllabic; a third of the form a b c d4 consists of trochaic verses.
Other stanzas of ordinary five- and three-foot verses used by him in the Lost Tales have the formulas a b5 c3 d5, a b c5 d3, a ~ b ~5 c3 d5.
Other stanzas of regular five- and three-foot verses used by him in the Lost Tales have the patterns a b5 c3 d5, a b c5 d3, a ~ b ~5 c3 d5.
In another stanza (Corinna), constructed after the formula a b4 c d3, a dactylic rhythm prevails:
In another stanza (Corinna), created using the pattern a b4 c d3, a dactylic rhythm dominates:
Stanzas of a similar kind consisting of trochaic verses are used by Longfellow; one of the form a3 b c4 d ~2 in To an old Danish Song Book, and another which corresponds to the formula a b5 c2 d5 in The Golden Mile-Stone.
Stanzas of a similar kind made up of trochaic verses are used by Longfellow; one in the form a3 b c4 d ~2 in To an old Danish Song Book, and another that matches the formula a b5 c2 d5 in The Golden Mile-Stone.
Iambic-anapaestic verses of two stresses and feminine ending are found in Longfellow’s poem The Men of Nidaros (p. 579); the arrangement into stanzas of six lines being marked only by the syntactical order, in the same way as in Southey’s poem The Soldier’s Wife (ii. 140), in which, too, four-foot dactylic verses are combined in stanzas of three lines. Two-foot dactylic and dactylic-trochaic verses of a similar structure to those mentioned in Book I, § 73, are joined to rhymeless stanzas of five lines (the first four have feminine endings, the last a masculine one) by Matthew Arnold in his poem Consolation (p. 50). Stanzas of five iambic verses of three and five measures, corresponding to the formula a3 b5 c3 d5 e3 occur in his poem Growing Old (p. 527). In Charles Lamb’s well-known poem, The Old Familiar Faces, written in stanzas of three lines, consisting of five-foot verses with feminine endings, the division into stanzas is marked by a refrain at the end of each stanza. For examples of these different kinds of verses the reader is referred to the author’s Metrik, ii, §§ 255–8.
Iambic-anapestic verses with two stresses and a feminine ending appear in Longfellow’s poem The Men of Nidaros (p. 579); the arrangement into six-line stanzas is indicated only by the syntactical order, similar to Southey’s poem The Soldier’s Wife (ii. 140), which also combines four-foot dactylic verses in three-line stanzas. Matthew Arnold uses two-foot dactylic and dactylic-trochaic verses of a similar structure as those mentioned in Book I, § 73, connected to rhymeless five-line stanzas (with the first four having feminine endings and the last one having a masculine ending) in his poem Consolation (p. 50). Stanzas of five iambic verses of three and five measures, following the pattern a3 b5 c3 d5 e3, can be found in his poem Growing Old (p. 527). In Charles Lamb’s famous poem, The Old Familiar Faces, written in three-line stanzas made up of five-foot verses with feminine endings, the stanza divisions are signaled by a refrain at the end of each stanza. For examples of these different types of verses, the reader is referred to the author’s Metrik, ii, §§ 255–8.
In conclusion it may be mentioned that many of the irregular, so-called Pindaric Odes (cf. Book II, chap. viii) are likewise written in rhymeless anisometrical stanzas.
In conclusion, it should be noted that many of the irregular, so-called Pindaric Odes (cf. Book II, chap. viii) are also written in rhymeless, uneven stanzas.
BOOK II. THE STRUCTURE OF STANZAS
PART I
CHAPTER I. DEFINITIONS
Stanza, rhyme, types of rhyme
§ 214. The strophe in ancient poetry, and the stanza in mediaeval and modern analogues and derivatives of that poetic form, are combinations of single lines into a unity of which the lines are the parts. The word strophe[180] in its literal sense means a turning, and originally denoted the return of the song to the melody with which it began. The melody, which is a series of musical sounds arranged in accordance with the laws of rhythm and modulation, has in poetry its counterpart in a parallel series of significant sounds or words arranged according to the laws of rhythm; and the melodic termination of the musical series has its analogue in the logical completion of the thought. But within the stanza itself again there are well-marked resting places, divisions closely connected with the periods or sentences of which the stanza is made up. The periods are built up of rhythmical sequences which are combinations of single feet, dominated by a rhythmical main accent. In shorter lines the end of the rhythmical sequence as a rule coincides with the end of the verse; but if the line is of some length it generally contains two or even more rhythmical sequences.[181] The essential constituents of the stanza are the lines; and the structure of the stanzas connected together to make up a poem is in classical as well as in mediaeval and modern poetry subject to the rule that the lines of each stanza of the poem must resemble those of the other stanzas in number, length (i.e. the number of feet or measures), rhythmical structure, and arrangement. (This rule, however, is not without exceptions in modern poetry.) In the versification of the ancients it was sufficient for the construction of a strophic poem that its verses should be combined in a certain number of groups which resembled each other in these respects. In modern poetry, also, such an arrangement of the verses may be sufficient for the construction of stanzas; but this is only exceptionally the case, and, as a rule, only in imitation of the classic metrical forms (cf. §§ 212–13). The stanza, as it is found in the mediaeval and modern poetry of the nations of western Europe, exhibits an additional structural element of the greatest importance, viz. the connexion of the single lines of the stanza by end-rhyme; and with regard to this a rule analogous to the previously mentioned law regarding the equality in number and nature of verses forming a stanza holds good, viz. that the arrangement of the rhymes which link the verses together to form stanzas, must be the same in all the stanzas of a poem.
§ 214. In ancient poetry, a strophe, and its modern equivalents like stanzas, are collections of individual lines that come together to form a unified whole. The term strophe[180] literally means a turning, originally referring to the return of the song to the melody it began with. This melody, a sequence of musical sounds organized according to the rules of rhythm and modulation, has a parallel in poetry with a series of meaningful sounds or words that follow the same rhythmic structure. The ending of the musical series corresponds to the logical conclusion of the thought expressed in the poem. Within the stanza, there are distinct pauses, divisions that relate closely to the sentences that make it up. These sentences consist of rhythmic sequences made up of individual feet, guided by a primary rhythmical accent. In shorter lines, the end of the rhythmic sequence usually aligns with the end of the verse; however, longer lines often contain two or more rhythmic sequences.[181] The fundamental elements of the stanza are the lines, and when stanzas are linked together to form a poem, whether in classical or medieval and modern poetry, the rule is that each stanza's lines must be similar to those of the other stanzas in their number, length (the number of feet or measures), rhythmic structure, and arrangement. (This rule does have exceptions in modern poetry.) In ancient versification, it was enough for a strophic poem that its verses be grouped in a specific number of similar sections. In modern poetry, while such an arrangement can sometimes be sufficient for building stanzas, this is typically rare and usually done in a way that mimics classical metrics (cf. §§ 212–13). The stanza in medieval and modern poetry from Western Europe also includes a crucial additional element: the connection of individual lines through end-rhyme. There’s a similar rule for this as well, stating that the arrangement of rhymes connecting the verses to form stanzas must be the same across all stanzas of a poem.
§ 215. Of the three chief kinds of rhyme, in its widest sense (mentioned § 10), i.e. alliteration, assonance, and end-rhyme, only the last need be taken into consideration here. There are, indeed, some poems in Old English in which end-rhyme is used consciously and intentionally (see §§ 40–1), but it was never used in that period for the construction of stanzas. This took place first in Middle English under the influence and after the model of the Low Latin and the Romanic lyrics.
§ 215. Among the three main types of rhyme, in the broadest sense (mentioned § 10), which includes alliteration, assonance, and end-rhyme, only the last one is relevant here. There are indeed some Old English poems that use end-rhyme intentionally (see §§ 40–1), but during that time, it was never used for creating stanzas. This began in Middle English, influenced by and modeled after the Low Latin and the Romanic lyrics.
The influence of the Low Latin lyrical and hymnodic poetry on the Old English stanzas is easily explicable from the position of the Latin language as the international tongue of the church and of learning during the Middle Ages. The influence of the lyrical forms of Provence and of Northern France on Middle English poetry was rendered possible by various circumstances. In the first place, during the crusades the nations of Western Europe frequently came into close contact with each other. A more important factor, however, was the Norman Conquest, in consequence of which the Norman-French language during a considerable time predominated in the British Isles and acted as a channel of communication of literature with the continent. One historical event deserves in this connexion special mention—the marriage in the year 1152 of Henry, Duke of Normandy (who came to the throne of England in 1154), and Eleonore of Poitou, widow of Louis VII of France; in her train Bernard de Ventadorn, the troubadour, came to England, whither many other poets and minstrels soon followed him, both in the reign of Henry and of his successor Richard Coeur de Lion, who himself composed songs in the Provençal and in the French language. The effect of the spread of songs like these in Provençal and French in England was to give a stimulus and add new forms to the native lyrical poetry which was gradually reviving. At first indeed the somewhat complicated strophic forms of the Provençal and Northern French lyrics did not greatly appeal to English tastes, and were little adapted to the less flexible character of the English tongue. Hence many of the more elaborate rhyme-systems of Provençal and Northern French lyrical versification were not imitated at all in English; others were reproduced only in a modified and often very original form; and only the simpler forms, which occurred mostly in Low Latin poetry as well, were imitated somewhat early and with little or no modification.
The impact of Low Latin lyrical and hymn poetry on Old English verses is easily explained by the Latin language's role as the international language of the church and education during the Middle Ages. The influence of the lyrical styles from Provence and Northern France on Middle English poetry was made possible by various factors. First, during the Crusades, Western European nations often interacted closely with one another. However, a more significant factor was the Norman Conquest, which led to the Norman-French language prevailing in the British Isles for a considerable period and serving as a conduit for literature from the continent. One historical event that stands out in this context is the marriage in 1152 between Henry, Duke of Normandy (who became king of England in 1154), and Eleanor of Poitou, the widow of Louis VII of France; she brought with her Bernard de Ventadorn, the troubadour, to England, where many other poets and minstrels soon followed during both Henry’s reign and that of his successor, Richard the Lionheart, who himself wrote songs in Provençal and French. The spread of songs like these in Provençal and French in England stimulated and added new forms to the native lyrical poetry, which was gradually reviving. Initially, the somewhat complicated strophic forms of Provençal and Northern French lyrics did not appeal much to English tastes and were not well-suited to the less flexible nature of the English language. As a result, many of the more elaborate rhyme schemes of Provençal and Northern French lyrical poetry were not adopted in English; others were imitated only in a modified and often very original way; and only the simpler forms, which also appeared in Low Latin poetry, were imitated relatively early and with little or no modification.
A. According to the number of the rhyming syllables.
A. According to the number of the rhyming syllables.
B. According to the quality of these syllables.
B. According to the quality of these syllables.
C. According to the position of the rhyme in relation to the line and the stanza.
C. According to the position of the rhyme in relation to the line and the stanza.
Intimately connected with this last point is the use of rhyme as an element in the structure of the stanza.
Intimately connected to this last point is the use of rhyme as a key part of the stanza's structure.
A. With regard to the number of the syllables, rhymes are divided into three classes, viz.:
A. In terms of the number of syllables, rhymes are categorized into three classes, namely:
1. The monosyllabic or single rhyme (also called masculine), e.g. hand: land, face: grace.
1. The monosyllabic or single rhyme (also known as masculine), e.g. hand: land, face: grace.
2. The disyllabic or double rhyme (also called feminine), as ever: never, brother: mother, treasure: measure, suppression: transgression; or owe me: know me Shakesp. Ven. and Ad. 523–5; bereft me: left me ib. 439–41. The terms masculine and feminine originated with the Provençal poets and metrists, who were the first among the people of Western Europe to theorize on the structure of the verses which they employed, and introduced these terms in reference to the forms of the Provençal adjective, which were monosyllabic or accented on the last syllable in the masculine, and disyllabic or accented on the last syllable but one in the feminine: bos–bona, amatz–amada.
2. The disyllabic or double rhyme (also known as feminine), like ever: never, brother: mother, treasure: measure, suppression: transgression; or owe me: know me in Shakespeare's Venus and Adonis 523–5; bereft me: left me ib. 439–41. The terms masculine and feminine come from the Provençal poets and metrists, who were the first in Western Europe to analyze the structure of the verses they used. They introduced these terms based on the forms of the Provençal adjective, which were monosyllabic or accented on the last syllable in the masculine, and disyllabic or accented on the second-to-last syllable in the feminine: bos–bona, amatz–amada.
3. The trisyllabic, triple, or tumbling rhyme, called gleitender (i.e. gliding) Reim in German. Of this variety of rhyme, which is less common than the two others, examples are gymnastical: ecclesiastical Byron, Beppo, 3; quality: liberality ib. 30; láugh of them: hálf of them ib. 98. Rhymes like this last, which are made up of more words than two, might, like those given above under the disyllables, such as owe me: know me, also form a separate sub-species as compound rhymes, as they resemble the broken rhymes (cf. § 217, B. 3) and have, like these, mostly a burlesque effect.
3. The trisyllabic, triple, or tumbling rhyme, referred to as gleitender (i.e. gliding) Reim in German. This type of rhyme, which is less common than the other two, includes examples like gymnastical: ecclesiastical Byron, Beppo, 3; quality: liberality ib. 30; láugh of them: hálf of them ib. 98. Rhymes like the last one, which consist of more than two words, could also form a separate sub-category called compound rhymes, similar to those mentioned above under the disyllables, such as owe me: know me. They are akin to broken rhymes (cf. § 217, B. 3) and usually have a playful effect.
1. The rich rhyme (in French rime riche), i.e. two words completely alike in sound but unlike in meaning rhyming with each other. Of this three special cases are possible:
1. The rich rhyme (in French rime riche), meaning two words that sound exactly the same but have different meanings rhyming with each other. There are three special cases possible:
a. Two simple words rhyming with each other, as londe (inf.): londe (noun) K. Horn, 753–4; armes (arms): armes (weapons) Chaucer, Compleynt of Mars, ll. 76–7; steepe (adj.): steepe (inf.) Spenser, F. Q. I. i. 39; sent (perf.): sent (=scent, noun) ib. 43; can (noun); can (verb) ib. I. iv. 22, &c. In the earlier Modern English poetry we find many rhymes of this class between words that are alike or similar in sound, but of different spelling, as night: knight, foul: fowl, gilt: guilt, hart: heart, &c. (cf. Ellis, ‘Shakespere’s Puns’ in Early Engl. Pron. iii. 920, iv. 1018).
a. Two simple words that rhyme with each other, like londe (inf.): londe (noun) K. Horn, 753–4; armes (arms): armes (weapons) Chaucer, Compleynt of Mars, ll. 76–7; steepe (adj.): steepe (inf.) Spenser, F. Q. I. i. 39; sent (perf.): sent (=scent, noun) ib. 43; can (noun); can (verb) ib. I. iv. 22, &c. In earlier Modern English poetry, we find many rhymes like these between words that are similar in sound but spelled differently, such as night: knight, foul: fowl, gilt: guilt, hart: heart, &c. (cf. Ellis, ‘Shakespere’s Puns’ in Early Engl. Pron. iii. 920, iv. 1018).
b. A simple and a compound word rhyming together, as leue: bileue K. Horn, 741–2; like: sellike Sir Tristr. 1222–4; ymake: make Wright’s Spec.. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 27, ll. 16–18; apart: part Spenser, F. Q. I. ii. 21, hold: behold ib. I. iii. 40; here also identity of sound and difference of spelling is possible, as renew: knew ib. I. iii. 25.
b. A simple word and a compound word that rhyme together, like leave: believe K. Horn, 741–2; like: selike Sir Tristr. 1222–4; ymake: make Wright’s Spec.. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 27, ll. 16–18; apart: part Spenser, F. Q. I. ii. 21, hold: behold ib. I. iii. 40; here too, the same sound and different spelling can occur, as in renew: knew ib. I. iii. 25.
c. Two compound words rhyming together, as recorde: accorde Chaucer, C. T. Prol. 828–9; affirmed: confirmed Wyatt, p. 98; expeld: compeld Spenser, F. Q. I. i. 5.
c. Two compound words that rhyme with each other, like record: accord Chaucer, C. T. Prol. 828–9; affirmed: confirmed Wyatt, p. 98; expelled: compelled Spenser, F. Q. I. i. 5.
2. The identical rhyme. This is, properly speaking, no rhyme at all, but only a repetition of the same word intended as a substitute for rhyme; and therefore was and is avoided by careful and skilful poets; sette: sette K. Horn, 757–8; other: other Wyatt, p. 45; down: down ib. p. 194; sight: sight Spenser, F. Q. I. i. 45, &c.
2. The identical rhyme. This isn’t really a rhyme at all, but just a repetition of the same word used as a substitute for rhyme; and that's why careful and skilled poets tend to avoid it; sette: sette K. Horn, 757–8; other: other Wyatt, p. 45; down: down ib. p. 194; sight: sight Spenser, F. Q. I. i. 45, &c.
3. The broken rhyme has two sub-species:
3. The broken rhyme has two types:
a. In the first of these one part of the rhyme is composed of two or three words (unlike the rhymes spoken of under A. 3, consisting of two words each), e.g. time: bi me K. Horn, 533–4; scolis: fole is, Chaucer, Troil. i. 634–5; tyrant: high rent Moore, Fudge Fam., Letter iv; wide as: Midas ib.; well a day: melody ib. x; Verona: known a Byron, Beppo, 17; sad knee: Ariadne ib. 28; endure a: seccatura ib. 31; estrangement: change meant ib. 53; quote is: notice ib. 48; exhibit ’em: libitum ib. 70; Julia: truly a: newly a Byron, Don Juan, ii. 208.
a. In the first of these, a part of the rhyme is made up of two or three words (unlike the rhymes mentioned in A. 3,, which consist of two words each), for example, time: bi me K. Horn, 533–4; scolis: fole is, Chaucer, Troil. i. 634–5; tyrant: high rent Moore, Fudge Fam., Letter iv; wide as: Midas ib.; well a day: melody ib. x; Verona: known a Byron, Beppo, 17; sad knee: Ariadne ib. 28; endure a: seccatura ib. 31; estrangement: change meant ib. 53; quote is: notice ib. 48; exhibit ’em: libitum ib. 70; Julia: truly a: newly a Byron, Don Juan, ii. 208.
b. In the second sub-species the rhyme to a common word is formed by the first part only of a longer word, the remainder standing at the beginning of the following line. This sort of rhyme seems to be unknown in Middle English literature; modern poets, however, use it not unfrequently in burlesque, as well as the previously mentioned sub-species, e.g. kind: blind-(ness) Pope, Satire iii. 67; forget-(ful): debt ib. iv. 13; beg: egge-(shells) ib. iv. 104; nice hence-(forward): licence Byron, Don Juan, i. 120; Thackeray, Ballads, p. 133:
b. In the second sub-type, the rhyme with a common word is created by using just the first part of a longer word, with the rest of it starting at the beginning of the next line. This type of rhyme doesn't seem to appear in Middle English literature; however, modern poets often use it in a humorous way, as well as the previously mentioned type, for example: kind: blind-(ness) Pope, Satire iii. 67; forget-(ful): debt ib. iv. 13; beg: egge-(shells) ib. iv. 104; nice hence-(forward): licence Byron, Don Juan, i. 120; Thackeray, Ballads, p. 133:
4. The double rhyme. This is always trisyllabic like that mentioned under A. 3; but there is a difference between them, in that the two closing syllables of the gliding rhyme stand outside the regular rhythm of the verse; while the first and the third syllable of the double rhyme bear the second last and last arsis of the verse.
4. The double rhyme. This is always trisyllabic like the one mentioned under A. 3; however, there is a difference between them. In a gliding rhyme, the two closing syllables are outside the regular rhythm of the verse, while in a double rhyme, the first and third syllables carry the second to last and last stress of the verse.
This sort of rhyme does on the whole not very often occur in Modern English poetry, and even in Middle English literature we ought to regard it as accidental. The same is the case with another (more frequent) species, namely,
This kind of rhyme doesn't happen very often in Modern English poetry, and even in Middle English literature, we should see it as accidental. The same goes for another (more common) type, namely,
5. The extended rhyme, in which an unaccented syllable preceding the rhyme proper, or an unaccented word in thesis, forms part of the rhyme, e.g. biforne: iborne Chaucer, Troil. ii. 296–8; in joye: in Troye ib. i. 118–19; to quyken: to stiken ib. 295–7; the Past: me last Byron, Ch. Harold, ii. 96; the limb: the brim ib. iii. 8, &c.
5. The extended rhyme, where an unstressed syllable before the rhyme or an unstressed word in the thesis becomes part of the rhyme, for example, biforne: iborne Chaucer, Troil. ii. 296–8; in joye: in Troye ib. i. 118–19; to quyken: to stiken ib. 295–7; the Past: me last Byron, Ch. Harold, ii. 96; the limb: the brim ib. iii. 8, &c.
6. The unaccented rhyme, an imperfect kind of rhyme, because only the unaccented syllables of disyllabic or polysyllabic words, mostly of Germanic origin and accentuation, rhyme together, and not their accented syllables as the ordinary rule would demand, e.g. láweles, lóreless, námeless; wrécful, wróngful, sínful Song of the Magna Charta, ll. 30–2, 66–8; many rhymes of this kind occur in the alliterative-rhyming long line combined into stanzas.[182] In Modern English we find this kind of rhyme pretty often in Wyatt[183]; e.g.:
6. The unaccented rhyme is a type of imperfect rhyme because it occurs only between the unaccented syllables of two-syllable or multi-syllable words, mainly those of Germanic origin and structure, rather than between the accented syllables as typically expected. For example, láweles, lóreless, námeless; wrécful, wróngful, sínful. This can be seen in the Song of the Magna Charta, lines 30–2, 66–8; many rhymes like this appear in the alliterative-rhyming long line arranged in stanzas.[182] In Modern English, this kind of rhyme is quite common in Wyatt[183]; for example:
Such rhymes in dactylic feet, as in the following verses by Moore (Beauty and Song ll. 1–4),
Such rhymes in dactylic feet, as in the following verses by Moore (Beauty and Song ll. 1–4),
are not harsh, because in this case the unaccented syllable which bears the rhyme is separated from the accented syllable by a thesis. A variety of the unaccented rhyme is called the accented-unaccented; examples have been quoted before in the chapter treating of the alliterative-rhyming long line (§§ 61, 62). In the same place some other verses of the above-quoted song of Moore are given, showing the admissibility of rhymes between gliding or trisyllabic and masculine rhyming-syllables or -words (mélodý: thée, Róse bè: thée). In these cases the subordinate accent of the third syllable in mélody or the word bè in the equally long Róse bè is strong enough to make a rhyme with thee possible, although this last word has a strong syntactical and rhythmical accent. As a rule such accented-unaccented rhymes, in which masculine endings rhyme with feminine endings, are very harsh, as is often the case in Wyatt’s poems (cf. Alscher, pp. 123–6), e.g.
are not harsh, because in this case the unaccented syllable that carries the rhyme is separated from the accented syllable by a thesis. A type of the unaccented rhyme is called the accented-unaccented; examples have been mentioned earlier in the chapter discussing the alliterative-rhyming long line (§§ 61, 62). In that same section, some other lines from the previously mentioned song by Moore are provided, illustrating the acceptability of rhymes between gliding or trisyllabic and masculine rhyming-syllables or -words (mélodý: thée, Róse bè: thée). In these instances, the subordinate accent of the third syllable in mélody or the word bè in the similarly long Róse bè is strong enough to allow a rhyme with thee, even though this last word has a strong syntactical and rhythmical accent. Generally, such accented-unaccented rhymes, where masculine endings rhyme with feminine endings, are quite harsh, as is often seen in Wyatt’s poems (cf. Alscher, pp. 123–6), e.g.
1. The sectional rhyme, so called because it consists of two rhyming words within one section or hemistich.[184] This kind of rhyme occurs now and then even in Old English poetry, but it is usually unintentional (cf. §§ 40–2), e.g. sǣla and mǣla; þæt is sōð metod Beow. 1611; in Middle English literature it is frequent, as in Barbour’s Bruce: and till Ingland agayne is gayne i. 144, iii. 185; That eftyr him dar na man ga iii. 166. In Modern English poetry this kind of rhyme is more frequent, and often intentionally used for artistic effect:
1. The sectional rhyme, named because it features two rhyming words within one section or half-line.[184] This type of rhyme appears occasionally even in Old English poetry, but it's typically unintentional (cf. §§ 40–2), for example, sǣla and mǣla; þæt is sōð metod Beow. 1611; in Middle English literature, it is common, as seen in Barbour’s Bruce: and till Ingland agayne is gayne i. 144, iii. 185; That eftyr him dar na man ga iii. 166. In Modern English poetry, this type of rhyme is more common and is often used intentionally for artistic effect:
2. Very closely related to this is the inverse rhyme (as Guest called it), which occurs when the last accented syllable of the first hemistich of a verse rhymes with the first accented syllable of the second hemistich:
2. Very closely related to this is the inverse rhyme (as Guest called it), which happens when the last stressed syllable of the first half of a line rhymes with the first stressed syllable of the second half:
This kind of rhyme is generally met with in the popular national long line of four stresses. Guest gives a much wider range to it. But when it occurs in other kinds of verse, as in the iambic verse of four or five feet, it is not to be looked upon as an intentional rhyme, but only as a consonance caused by rhetorical repetition (the examples are quoted by Guest):
This type of rhyme is usually found in the common national long line of four stresses. Guest expands its use significantly. However, when it appears in other types of verse, like the iambic verse with four or five feet, it shouldn't be considered an intentional rhyme but rather a consonance created by rhetorical repetition (the examples are cited by Guest):
3. The Leonine[185] rhyme or middle rhyme, which recurs throughout the Old English Rhyming Poem, and is occasionally used in other Old English poems. This rhyme connects the two hemistichs of an alliterative line with each other by end-rhyme and, at the same time, causes the gradual breaking up of it into two short lines; we find it in certain parts of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, in Layamon, in the Proverbs of Alfred, and other poems, e.g.: his sedes to sowen, his medes to mowen Prov. 93–4; þus we uerden þere, and for þi beoþ nu here Lay. 1879–80. See §§ 49, 57–58, 78 for examples from Middle and Modern English literature of this kind of rhyme (called by the French rimes plates) as well as of the following kind, when used in even-beat metres.
3. The Leonine rhyme or middle rhyme appears throughout the Old English Rhyming Poem and is sometimes found in other Old English poems. This rhyme connects the two halves of an alliterative line with end-rhyme and gradually breaks it into two short lines. We see it in parts of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, in Layamon, in the Proverbs of Alfred, and in other poems, for example: his sedes to sowen, his medes to mowen Prov. 93–4; þus we uerden þere, and for þi beoþ nu here Lay. 1879–80. See §§ 49, 57–58, 78 for examples from Middle and Modern English literature of this kind of rhyme (called by the French rimes plates) as well as of the following kind, when used in even-beat metres.
4. The interlaced rhyme (rime entrelacée), by means of which two long-lined rhyming couplets are connected a second time in corresponding places (before the caesura) by another rhyme, so that they seem to be broken up into four short verses of alternate or cross-rhyme (a b a b), e.g. in the latter part of Robert Mannyng’s Rhyming Chronicle (from p. 69 of Hearne’s edition), or in the second version of Saynt Katerine (cf. the quotations, §§ 77, 78, 150). When, however, long verses without interlaced rhyme are broken up only by the arrangement of the writer or printer into short lines, we have
4. The interlaced rhyme (rime entrelacée) connects two long rhyming couplets a second time in related spots (before the caesura) using another rhyme, making them appear as though they're divided into four short lines of alternate or cross-rhyme (a b a b), as seen in the latter part of Robert Mannyng’s Rhyming Chronicle (from p. 69 of Hearne’s edition), or in the second version of Saynt Katerine (see the quotations, §§ 77, 78, 150). However, when long verses without interlaced rhyme are simply split into short lines by the choice of the writer or printer, we have
5. The intermittent rhyme, whose formula is a b c b (cf. p. 196). Both sorts of rhyme may also be used, of course, in other kinds of verse, shorter or longer; as a rule, however, the intermittent rhyme is employed for shorter, the alternate or cross-rhyme for longer verses, as, for example, those of five feet.
5. The intermittent rhyme, which follows the pattern a b c b (see p. 196). Both types of rhyme can definitely be used in different forms of verse, whether they’re shorter or longer; generally, though, the intermittent rhyme is used for shorter lines, while the alternate or cross-rhyme is used for longer ones, like those with five feet.
6. The enclosing rhyme, corresponding to the formula a b b a, e.g. in spray, still, fill, May, as in the quartets of the sonnet formed after the Italian model (cf. below, Book II, chap. ix). This sort of rhyme does not often occur in Middle English poetry; but we find it later, e.g. in the tail or veer of a variety of stanza used by Dunbar and Kennedy in their Flyting Poem.
6. The enclosing rhyme, following the pattern a b b a, for example in spray, still, fill, May, appears in the quartets of the sonnet based on the Italian model (see below, Book II, chap. ix). This type of rhyme isn’t commonly found in Middle English poetry; however, it shows up later, for instance in the tail or turn of different stanzas used by Dunbar and Kennedy in their Flyting Poem.
7. The tail-rhyme (in French called rime couée, in German Schweifreim), the formula of which is a a b c c b. (For a specimen see § 79.)
7. The tail-rhyme (called rime couée in French and Schweifreim in German), has the pattern a a b c c b. (For an example, see § 79.)
This arrangement of rhymes originated from two long lines of the same structure, formed into a couplet by end-rhyme, each of the lines being divided into three sections (whence the name versus tripertiti caudati). This couplet, the formula of which was – a – a – b || – c – c – b, is, in the form in which it actually appears broken up into a stanza of six short lines, viz. two longer couplets a a, c c, and a pair of shorter lines rhyming together as b b, the order of rhymes being a a b c c b. (For remarks on the origin of this stanza see § 240.)
This rhyme scheme comes from two long lines with the same structure that form a couplet through end-rhyme, with each line divided into three sections (hence the name versus tripertiti caudati). This couplet, which follows the pattern – a – a – b || – c – c – b, actually appears as a stanza of six short lines: two longer couplets a a, c c, and a pair of shorter lines rhyming together as b b, arranged with the rhyme order of a a b c c b. (For comments on the origin of this stanza, see § 240.)
§ 219. As to the quality of the rhyme, purity or exactness, of course, is and always has been a chief requirement. It is, however, well known that the need for this exactness is frequently disregarded not only in Old and Middle English poetry (cf. e.g. the Old English assonances meant for rhymes, § 40, or the often very defective rhymes of Layamon, § 45) but even in Modern English poetry. Many instructive examples of defective rhymes from Spenser, Sidney, Shakespeare, and Dryden are given by A.J. Ellis, On Early Engl. Pronunciation, iii. 858–74, 953–66, iv. 1033–9.
§ 219. When it comes to the quality of rhyme, purity and precision have always been essential. However, it's well known that the need for this precision is often overlooked not just in Old and Middle English poetry (see, for example, the Old English assonances intended for rhymes, § 40, or the frequently flawed rhymes of Layamon, § 45) but also in Modern English poetry. A.J. Ellis provides many illustrative examples of imperfect rhymes from Spenser, Sidney, Shakespeare, and Dryden in On Early Engl. Pronunciation, iii. 858–74, 953–66, iv. 1033–9.
From these collections of instances we see how a class of imperfect rhymes came into existence in consequence of the change in the pronunciation of certain vowels, from which it resulted that many pairs of words that originally rhymed together, more or less perfectly, ceased to be rhymes at all to the ear, although, as the spelling remained unaltered, they retained in their written form a delusive appearance of correspondence. These ‘eye-rhymes’, as they are called, play an important part in English poetry, being frequently admitted by later poets, who continue to rhyme together words such as eye: majesty Pope, Temple of Fame, 202–3; crowns: owns ib. 242–3; own’d: found id. Wife of Bath, 32–3, notwithstanding the fact that the vowel of the two words, which at first formed perfect rhymes, had long before been diphthongized or otherwise changed while the other word still kept its original vowel-sound.
From these collections of examples, we can see how a type of imperfect rhyme developed due to changes in the pronunciation of certain vowels. As a result, many pairs of words that originally rhymed, more or less perfectly, stopped rhyming to the ear, even though their spelling remained the same, giving a misleading appearance of correspondence in writing. These ‘eye-rhymes,’ as they’re called, play a significant role in English poetry, as later poets often use them, continuing to rhyme words like eye: majesty Pope, Temple of Fame, 202–3; crowns: owns ib. 242–3; own’d: found id. Wife of Bath, 32–3, despite the fact that the vowels in the two words, which once formed perfect rhymes, had long since changed to diphthongs or otherwise altered, while the other word maintained its original vowel sound.
CHAPTER II
THE RHYME AS A STRUCTURAL ELEMENT OF THE STANZA
§ 220. On the model of the Provençal and Northern French lyrics, where the rhyme was indispensable in the construction of stanzas, rhyme found a similar employment in Middle English poetry. Certain simple kinds of stanzas, however, were in their formation just as much influenced by the Low Latin hymn forms, in which at that time rhyme had long been in vogue.
§ 220. Following the example of Provençal and Northern French lyrics, where rhyme was essential for creating stanzas, rhyme also played a similar role in Middle English poetry. However, some simple types of stanzas were shaped just as much by the Low Latin hymn forms, which had popularized rhyme by that time.
But the rules prescribed for the formation of stanzas by the Provençal poets in theory and practice were observed neither by the Northern French, nor by the Middle English poets with equal rigour, although later on, it is true, in the court-poetry greater strictness prevailed than in popular lyrical poetry.
But the rules set for creating stanzas by the Provençal poets, in theory and practice, were not followed as strictly by the Northern French or the Middle English poets. However, it is true that later on, court poetry had more strictness than popular lyrical poetry.
One of the chief general laws relating to the use of rhyme in the formation of stanzas has already been mentioned in § 214 (at the end). A few other points of special importance require to be noticed here.
One of the main general rules about using rhyme in creating stanzas has already been mentioned in § 214 (at the end). A few other important points need to be addressed here.
Both in Middle English and in Romanic poetry we find stanzas with a single rhyme only and stanzas with varied rhymes. But the use of the same rhymes throughout all the stanzas of one poem (in German called Durchreimung), so frequent in Romanic literature, occurs in Middle English poetry only in some later poems imitated directly from Romanic models. As a rule, both where the rhyme in the same stanza is single and where it is varied, all the stanzas have different rhymes, and only the rhyme-system, the arrangement of rhymes, is the same throughout the poem. It is, however, very rarely and only in Modern English literary poetry that the several stanzas are strictly uniform with regard to the use of masculine and feminine rhyme; as a rule the two kinds are employed. Sometimes, it is true, in the anisometrical ‘lays’, as they are called, as well as in the later popular ballads (e.g. in Chevy Chace and The Battle of Otterbourne), we find single stanzas deviating from the rest in rhyme-arrangement as well as in number of lines, the stanzas consisting of Septenary lines with cross-rhymes and intermittent rhymes (a b a b, and a b c b) being combined now and then with tail-rhyme. This is found to a still greater extent in lyrical poetry of the seventeenth century (e.g. Cowley, G. Herbert, &c.) as well as in odic stanzas of the same or a somewhat later period.
Both in Middle English and in Romance poetry, we come across stanzas that use a single rhyme as well as stanzas with various rhymes. However, the practice of using the same rhymes throughout all the stanzas of one poem (known as Durchreimung in German), which is common in Romance literature, appears in Middle English poetry mostly in some later works modeled directly on Romance examples. Generally, whether the rhyme in a single stanza is uniform or varied, all the stanzas will have different rhymes, with only the rhyme scheme—how the rhymes are arranged—remaining consistent throughout the poem. However, it is very rarely, and only in Modern English literary poetry, that the several stanzas are uniform in their use of masculine and feminine rhymes; typically, both types are used. Occasionally, in the anisometrical 'lays,' as they are called, and in later popular ballads (for example, in Chevy Chace and The Battle of Otterbourne), we find individual stanzas diverging from the rest in both rhyme arrangement and line count, with stanzas made up of septenary lines that combine cross-rhymes and intermittent rhymes (a b a b and a b c b), sometimes mixed with tail-rhyme. This is seen to an even greater extent in the lyrical poetry of the seventeenth century (like Cowley and G. Herbert) as well as in odic stanzas from the same or slightly later period.
§ 221. It does not often happen in Middle English poetry that a line is not connected by rhyme with a corresponding line in the same stanza to which it belongs, but only with one in the next stanza. In Modern English poetry this peculiarity, corresponding to what are called Körner in German metres, may not unfrequently be observed in certain poetic forms of Italian origin, as the terza rima or the sestain. Of equally rare occurrence in English strophic poetry are lines without any rhyme (analogous to the Waisen—literally ‘orphans’—of Middle High German poetry), which were strictly prohibited in Provençal poetry. In Middle English literature they hardly ever occur, but are somewhat more frequent in Modern English poetry, where they generally come at the end of the stanza. On the other hand the mode of connecting successive stanzas, technically called Concatenatio (rhyme-linking), so frequently used by the Provençal and Northern French poets, is very common in Middle English verse. Three different varieties of this device are to be distinguished, viz.:
§ 221. In Middle English poetry, it’s rare for a line to rhyme with a line in a different stanza instead of one in the same stanza. In Modern English poetry, you might often see this feature in certain poetic forms of Italian origin, like terza rima or sestain. Lines that don’t rhyme at all (similar to the Waisen—literally ‘orphans’—of Middle High German poetry) are also quite rare in English strophic poetry and were strictly forbidden in Provençal poetry. In Middle English literature, these lines are almost never found, but they appear more frequently in Modern English poetry, typically at the end of a stanza. Conversely, the method of linking successive stanzas, known as Concatenatio (rhyme-linking), is very common in Middle English verse and was frequently used by Provençal and Northern French poets. There are three different types of this technique to distinguish, namely:
1. The repetition of the rhyme-word (or of a word standing close by it) of the last line of a stanza, at the beginning of the first line of the following stanza.
1. The repetition of the rhyme word (or a word that’s nearby) from the last line of a stanza at the start of the first line of the next stanza.
2. The repetition of the whole last line of a stanza, including the rhyme-word, as the initial line of the following stanza (not very common); and
2. Repeating the entire last line of a stanza, including the rhyme word, as the first line of the next stanza (not very common); and
3. The repetition of the last rhyme of a stanza as the first rhyme of the following one; so that the last rhyme-word of one stanza and the first rhyme-word of the next not only rhyme with the corresponding rhyme-words of their own stanzas, but also with one another. Such ‘concatenations’ frequently connect the first and the last part (i.e. the frons and the cauda) of a stanza with each other. They even connect the single lines of the same stanza and sometimes of a whole poem, with each other, as e.g. in the ‘Rhyme-beginning Fragment’ in Furnivall’s Early English Poems and Lives of Saints, p. 21 (cf. Metrik, i, p. 317)
3. The repetition of the last rhyme of a stanza as the first rhyme of the next stanza; so that the last rhyme word of one stanza and the first rhyme word of the next not only rhyme with the corresponding rhyme words of their own stanzas but also with each other. Such ‘concatenations’ often connect the first and the last part (i.e. the frons and the cauda) of a stanza. They even link the individual lines of the same stanza and sometimes of an entire poem, as seen in the ‘Rhyme-beginning Fragment’ in Furnivall’s Early English Poems and Lives of Saints, p. 21 (cf. Metrik, i, p. 317).
§ 222. Another and more usual means of connecting the single stanzas of a poem with each other is the refrain (called by the Provençal poets refrim, i.e. ‘echo’; by German metrists sometimes called Kehrreim, i.e. recurrent rhyme). The refrain is of popular origin, arising from the part taken by the people in popular songs or ecclesiastical hymns by repeating certain exclamations, words, or sentences at the end of single lines or stanzas. The refrain generally occurs at the end of a stanza, rarely in the interior of a stanza or in both places, as in a late ballad quoted by Ritson, Ancient Songs and Ballads, ii. 75.
§ 222. Another common way to connect the individual stanzas of a poem is through the refrain (referred to by Provençal poets as refrim, meaning ‘echo’; and sometimes called Kehrreim by German poets, meaning recurrent rhyme). The refrain has its roots in popular culture, emerging from the people's participation in folk songs or church hymns by repeating certain exclamations, words, or phrases at the end of lines or stanzas. The refrain usually appears at the end of a stanza and rarely appears in the middle or in both locations, as seen in a late ballad quoted by Ritson, Ancient Songs and Ballads, ii. 75.
In Old English poetry the refrain is used in one poem only, viz. in Deor’s Complaint, as the repetition of a whole line. In Middle and Modern English poetry the refrain is much more extensively employed. Its simplest form, consisting of the repetition of certain exclamations or single words after each stanza, occurs pretty often in Middle English. Frequent use is also made of the other form, in which one line is partially or entirely repeated. Sometimes, indeed, two or even more lines are repeated, or a whole stanza is added as refrain to each of the main stanzas, and is then placed at the beginning of the poem (cf. Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 51).
In Old English poetry, the refrain appears in just one poem, namely Deor’s Complaint, where a whole line is repeated. In Middle and Modern English poetry, the refrain is used much more frequently. Its simplest form, which involves repeating certain exclamations or single words after each stanza, is quite common in Middle English. There is also regular use of another form, where one line is partially or fully repeated. Sometimes, two or more lines are repeated, or an entire stanza is added as a refrain to each of the main stanzas, and this is then placed at the beginning of the poem (cf. Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 51).
In English the refrain is also called burthen, and consists (according to Guest) of the entire or at least partial repetition of the same words. Distinct from the burthen or refrain is the wheel, which is only the repetition of the same rhythm as an addition to a stanza. In Middle English poetry especially a favourite form was that in which a stanza consisting mostly of alliterative-rhyming verses or half-verses (cf. §§ 60, 61, 66) is followed by an addition (the cauda), differing very much from the rhythmical structure of the main part (the frons) of the stanza, and connected with it by means of a very short verse consisting of only one arsis and the syllable or syllables forming the thesis. This short verse is called by Guest bob-verse, and the cauda, connected with the chief stanza by means of such a verse, he calls bob-wheel, so that the whole stanza, which is of a very remarkable form, might be called the bob-wheel stanza. The similar form of stanza, also very common, where the chief part of the stanza is connected with the ‘cauda’, not by a ‘bob-verse’ but by an ordinary long line, might be called the wheel-stanza. These remarks now bring us to other considerations of importance with regard to the formation of the stanza, which will be treated of in the next section.
In English, the refrain is also known as burthen, and consists (according to Guest) of the complete or at least partial repetition of the same words. Different from the burthen or refrain is the wheel, which is just the repetition of the same rhythm added to a stanza. In Middle English poetry, a popular form was one in which a stanza, mostly made up of alliterative-rhyming verses or half-verses (cf. §§ 60, 61, 66), is followed by an addition (the cauda) that differs significantly from the rhythmic structure of the main part (the frons) of the stanza. This is connected by a very short verse made up of just one arsis and the syllable or syllables that form the thesis. This short verse is called bob-verse by Guest, and the cauda, which is linked to the main stanza by such a verse, is referred to as bob-wheel, so that the entire stanza, with its distinct form, can be called a bob-wheel stanza. A similar form of stanza, which is also quite common, where the main part of the stanza is linked to the ‘cauda’ not by a ‘bob-verse’ but by a regular long line, may be called a wheel-stanza. These observations now lead us to other significant considerations regarding the structure of the stanza, which will be discussed in the next section.
The theory of the structure of stanzas in Provençal and Italian is given along with much interesting matter in Dante’s treatise De vulgari eloquentia[186], where the original Romanic technical terms are found. Several terms used in this book have also been taken from German metrics.
The theory of stanza structure in Provençal and Italian is presented along with a lot of fascinating information in Dante’s treatise De vulgari eloquentia[186], where you'll find original Romanic technical terms. Some terms used in this book have also been borrowed from German metrics.
In the history of Middle English poetry two groups of stanzas must be distinguished: divisible and indivisible stanzas (the one-rhymed stanzas being included in the latter class). The divisible stanzas consist either of two equal parts (bipartite equal-membered stanzas) or of two unequal parts (bipartite unequal-membered stanzas) or thirdly of two equal parts and an unequal one (tripartite stanzas). Now and then (especially in Modern English poetry) they consist of three equal parts. These three types are common to Middle and Modern English poetry. A fourth class is met with in Modern English poetry only, viz. stanzas generally consisting of three, sometimes of four or more unequal parts.
In the history of Middle English poetry, we can identify two types of stanzas: divisible and indivisible stanzas (with one-rhymed stanzas falling into the latter category). Divisible stanzas either have two equal parts (bipartite equal-membered stanzas), two unequal parts (bipartite unequal-membered stanzas), or they can have two equal parts plus an unequal one (tripartite stanzas). Occasionally, especially in Modern English poetry, they can consist of three equal parts. These three types are found in both Middle and Modern English poetry. A fourth category appears only in Modern English poetry, consisting generally of three parts, and sometimes four or more unequal parts.
All the kinds of verse that have been previously described in this work can be used in these different classes of stanzas, both separately and conjointly. In each group, accordingly, isometrical and anisometrical stanzas must be distinguished. Very rarely, and only in Modern English, we find that even the rhythm of the separate verses of a stanza is not uniform; iambic and trochaic, anapaestic and dactylic, or iambic and anapaestic verses interchanging with each other, so that a further distinction between isorhythmical and anisorhythmical stanzas is possible.
All the types of verse described earlier in this work can be used in these different categories of stanzas, both on their own and together. In each category, it's important to distinguish between isometrical and anisometrical stanzas. Very rarely, and only in modern English, do we see that even the rhythm of the individual verses in a stanza isn't uniform; iambic and trochaic, anapaestic and dactylic, or iambic and anapaestic verses alternating with each other, allowing for a further distinction between isorhythmical and anisorhythmical stanzas.
The two periods may be composed either of two rhyming couplets or of four verses rhyming alternately with each other. Specimens of both classes have been quoted above (§ 78). Such equal-membered stanzas can be extended, of course, in each part uniformly without changing the isometrical character of the stanza.
The two sections can consist of either two rhyming couplets or four verses that alternate in their rhyme scheme. Examples of both types have been provided above (§ 78). These equal-length stanzas can, of course, be expanded in each part uniformly without altering the consistent structure of the stanza.
§ 225. The bipartite unequal-membered stanzas belong to a more advanced stage in the formation of the stanza. They are, however, found already in Provençal poetry, and consist of the ‘forehead’ (frons) and the ‘tail’ or veer (cauda). The frons and the cauda differ sometimes only in the number of verses, and consequently, in the order of the rhymes, and sometimes also in the nature of the verse. The two parts may either have quite different rhymes or be connected together by one or several common rhymes. As a simple specimen of this sort of stanza the first stanza of Dunbar’s None may assure in this warld may be quoted here:
§ 225. The bipartite unequal-membered stanzas represent a more advanced stage in the development of the stanza. However, they can already be seen in Provençal poetry and consist of the 'forehead' (frons) and the 'tail' or veer (cauda). The frons and the cauda sometimes differ only in the number of verses, and thus in the rhyme scheme, and sometimes also in the style of the verse. The two parts can have completely different rhymes or be linked by one or more shared rhymes. As a straightforward example of this type of stanza, the first stanza of Dunbar’s None may assure in this warld can be referenced here:
And kyth my kairis on or mo?
Quha is my freynd, quha is my fo;
For in this warld may non assure.
In literary poetry, however, the tripartite stanzas are commoner than the bipartite unequal-membered stanzas just noticed; they are as much in favour as the bipartite, equal-membered stanzas are in popular poetry. In Provençal and Northern French poetry the principle of a triple partition in the structure of stanzas was developed very early. Stanzas on these models were very soon imported into Middle English poetry.
In literary poetry, however, three-part stanzas are more common than the two-part, uneven stanzas mentioned earlier; they are just as popular as the two-part, even stanzas found in popular poetry. The concept of a three-part structure in stanzas was developed early on in Provençal and Northern French poetry. Stanzas based on these models were quickly adopted into Middle English poetry.
§ 226. The tripartite stanzas generally (apart from Modern English forms) consist of two equal parts and one unequal part, which admit of being arranged in different ways. They have accordingly different names. If the two equal parts precede they are called pedes, both together the opening (in German Aufgesang =‘upsong’); the unequal part that concludes the stanza is called the conclusion or the veer, tail, or cauda (in German Abgesang =‘downsong’). If the unequal part precedes it is called frons (=‘forehead’); the two equal parts that form the end of the stanza are called versus (‘turns,’ in German Wenden). The former arrangement, however, is by far the more frequent.
§ 226. The tripartite stanzas generally (aside from Modern English forms) consist of two equal parts and one unequal part, which can be arranged in various ways. They have different names accordingly. If the two equal parts come first, they are called pedes, and together they make up the opening (in German Aufgesang =‘upsong’); the unequal part that wraps up the stanza is called the conclusion or the veer, tail, or cauda (in German Abgesang =‘downsong’). If the unequal part comes first, it’s called frons (=‘forehead’); the two equal parts that end the stanza are referred to as versus (‘turns,’ in German Wenden). However, the first arrangement is by far the more common.
There are various ways of separating the first from the last part of the stanza: (a) by a pause, which, as a rule, in Romanic as well as in Middle English poetry occurs between the two chief parts; (b) by a difference in their structure (whether in rhyme-arrangement only, or both in regard to the kinds and the number of verses). But even then the two chief parts are generally separated by a pause. We thus obtain three kinds of tripartite stanzas:
There are different ways to separate the first part from the last part of the stanza: (a) by a pause, which usually occurs between the two main parts in both Romance languages and Middle English poetry; (b) by a difference in their structure (either just in the rhyme pattern or in both the types and the number of lines). However, even then, the two main parts are typically separated by a pause. This gives us three types of tripartite stanzas:
1. Stanzas in which the first and the last part differ in versification; the lines of the last part may either be longer or shorter than those of the ‘pedes’. Difference in rhythmical structure as well as in length of line is in Middle English poetry confined to the bob-wheel stanzas, and is not otherwise common except in Modern English poetry.
1. Stanzas where the first and last parts have different versification; the lines in the last part can be either longer or shorter than those of the ‘pedes’. Variations in rhythmic structure and line length in Middle English poetry are limited to the bob-wheel stanzas and are not commonly found elsewhere except in Modern English poetry.
2. Stanzas in which the parts differ in number of verses. The number may be either greater or smaller in the last part than in the two ‘pedes’, which, of course, involves at the same time a difference in the order of the rhymes. Change of length, however, and change of versification in the last part in comparison with the half of the first part are generally combined.
2. Stanzas where the sections vary in number of lines. The count can be either higher or lower in the last section compared to the two ‘pedes’, which naturally leads to a difference in the rhyme scheme as well. However, changes in length and changes in verse style in the last section compared to the first half are usually combined.
3. Stanzas in which the parts agree in versification but differ in the arrangement of the rhymes; the number of verses in the cauda being either the same as that of one of the pedes, or (as commonly the case) different from it.
3. Stanzas where the lines match in rhythm but vary in the rhyme scheme; the number of lines in the cauda being either the same as one of the pedes, or (as is often the case) different from it.
In all these cases the first and the last part of the stanza may have quite different rhymes, or they may, in stanzas of more artistic construction, have one or several rhymes in common.
In all these cases, the first and last parts of the stanza can have completely different rhymes, or in stanzas that are more artistically crafted, they may share one or several common rhymes.
If the frons precedes the versus, the same distinctions, of course, are possible between the two chief parts.
If the frons comes before the versus, the same distinctions, of course, can be made between the two main parts.
On molde y waxe mad,
A maid married me;
For selden y am sad
That assembly for tea.
To rouþe þou hauest me rad,
Be bote of þat y bad,
My life is long for you.
You give us of your grace,
Þat we mowe dai and nyht
Think of your face.
When y þenke on iesu blod,
It ran down by his side,
For ous he spradde is herte blod,
His wounds were so wide.
Theoretically, the second stanza might also be regarded as a stanza consisting of two pedes and two versus, or, in other words, as a four-part stanza of two equal parts in each half. Stanzas of this kind occur pretty often in Middle and Modern English poetry. They mostly, however, convey the effect of a tripartite stanza on account of the greater extent of the one pair of equal parts of the stanza.
Theoretically, the second stanza could also be seen as a stanza made up of two pedes and two versus, or, in simpler terms, as a four-part stanza with two equal parts in each half. Stanzas like this are quite common in Middle and Modern English poetry. However, they usually give the impression of a three-part stanza because of the larger size of one pair of equal parts in the stanza.
The tripartition effected only by a difference in the arrangement of rhymes either in the pedes and the cauda, or in the frons and the versus, will be illustrated by the following specimens:
The division created solely by a difference in the rhyme arrangement, whether in the pedes and the cauda, or in the frons and the versus, will be demonstrated by the following examples:
That were sweetly forsaken;
Lights that mislead the dawn.
Seales of love, but seal’d in vaine.
A vanquish’d Chief expiring lay,
He traced his farewell to the Free;
He dying wrote was ‘Liberty’.
A very rare variety of tripartition that, as far as we know, does not occur till Modern English times, is that by which the cauda is placed between the two pedes. This arrangement, of course, may occur in each of the three kinds of tripartition. A specimen of the last kind (viz. that in which the cauda is distinguished from the pedes by a different arrangement of rhymes) may suffice to explain it:
A very rare type of tripartition that, as far as we know, doesn’t occur until Modern English times is when the cauda is placed between the two pedes. This setup can happen in any of the three types of tripartition. An example of the last type (where the cauda is set apart from the pedes by a different rhyme arrangement) may be enough to explain it:
Seem the happiest years that come:
No such word! I thought instead
In besieging Ilium.
Lastly, it is to be remarked that the inequality of Modern English stanzas, which may be composed of two or three or several parts, admits, of course, of many varieties. Generally, however, their structure is somewhat analogous to that of the regular tripartite stanzas (cf. below, Book II, chap. vi).
Lastly, it’s worth noting that the unevenness of Modern English stanzas, which can consist of two, three, or more sections, allows for many variations. Generally, though, their structure is somewhat similar to that of the standard tripartite stanzas (see below, Book II, chap. vi).
In Romanic poetry the tripartite structure sometimes was carried on also through the whole song, it being composed either of three or six stanzas (that is to say, of three equal groups of stanzas), or, what is more usual, of seven or five stanzas (i.e. of two equal parts and an unequal part). In Middle English literary poetry, too, this practice is fairly common;[187] in Modern English poetry, on the other hand, it occurs only in the most recent times, being chiefly adopted in imitations of Romanic forms of stanza, especially the ballade.
In Romantic poetry, the tripartite structure was often maintained throughout the entire song, consisting of either three or six stanzas (meaning three equal groups of stanzas), or, more commonly, of seven or five stanzas (i.e., two equal parts and an unequal part). This practice is also quite common in Middle English poetry; however, in Modern English poetry, it has only emerged in recent times, primarily adopted in imitations of Romantic stanza forms, especially the ballade.
§ 228. The envoi. Closely connected with the last-mentioned point, viz. the partition of the whole poem, is the structural element in German called Geleit, in Provençal poetry tornada (i.e. ‘turning’, ‘apostrophe’, or ‘address’), in Northern French poetry envoi, a term which was retained sometimes by Middle English poets as the title for this kind of stanza (occasionally even for a whole poem). The tornada used chiefly in the ballade is a sort of epilogue to the poem proper. It was a rule in Provençal poetry (observed often in Old French also) that it must agree in form with the concluding part of the preceding stanza. It was also necessary that with regard to its tenor it should have some sort of connexion with the poem; although, as a rule, its purpose was to give expression to personal feelings. The tornada is either a sort of farewell which the poet addresses to the poem itself, or it contains the order to a messenger to deliver the poem to the poet’s mistress or to one of his patrons; sometimes these persons are directly praised or complimented. In Middle English poetry the envoi mostly serves the same purposes. But there are some variations from the Provençal custom both as to contents and especially as to form.
§ 228. The envoi. Closely tied to the previous point about the overall structure of the poem is the element in German called Geleit, in Provençal poetry tornada (meaning ‘turning’, ‘apostrophe’, or ‘address’), and in Northern French poetry envoi, a term sometimes used by Middle English poets as the title for this type of stanza (and occasionally even for an entire poem). The tornada, primarily used in the ballade, acts as an epilogue to the poem itself. In Provençal poetry, and often in Old French as well, there was a rule that it had to match the form of the closing part of the preceding stanza. It was also essential for its content to have some connection to the poem, though its main purpose was typically to express personal feelings. The tornada can either be a kind of farewell the poet gives to the poem itself or an instruction to a messenger to take the poem to the poet’s mistress or a patron; sometimes these individuals are directly praised or complimented. In Middle English poetry, the envoi generally serves the same functions, but there are some differences from the Provençal tradition in both content and especially in form.
The most important are the real envois. Of these, two subordinate species can be distinguished: (a) when the form of the envoi differs from the form of the stanza, as in Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 92, and even more markedly in Chaucer’s Compleynt to his Purse, a poem of stanzas of seven lines, the envoi of which addressed to the king consists of five verses only; (b) when the form of the envoi is the same as that of the other stanzas of the poem, as e.g. in Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 111 (a greeting to a mistress), in Dunbar’s Goldin Targe (address to the poem itself).
The most important are the real envois. Within these, two subcategories can be identified: (a) when the structure of the envoi is different from the structure of the stanza, as seen in Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 92, and even more clearly in Chaucer’s Compleynt to his Purse, a poem with stanzas of seven lines, where the envoi addressed to the king consists of only five lines; (b) when the structure of the envoi matches that of the other stanzas in the poem, as in Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 111 (a greeting to a mistress), and in Dunbar’s Goldin Targe (addressed to the poem itself).
When the poem is of some length the envoi may consist of several stanzas; thus in Chaucer’s Clerkes Tale (stanzas of seven lines) the envoi has six stanzas of six lines each.
When a poem is longer, the envoi can have several stanzas; for example, in Chaucer’s Clerkes Tale (which features seven-line stanzas), the envoi includes six stanzas with six lines each.
Concluding stanzas resembling envois in their form are generally shorter than the chief stanzas, but of similar structure. Generally speaking they are not very common. Specimens may be found in Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, pp. 38, 47, &c.
Concluding stanzas that look like envois in form are usually shorter than the main stanzas but have a similar structure. Overall, they are not very common. Examples can be found in Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, pp. 38, 47, &c.
Concluding stanzas resembling envois in their contents. An example occurs in Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 31, where the concluding stanza contains an address to another poet. Religious poems end with addresses to God, Christ, the Virgin, invitations to prayer, &c.; for examples see Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 111, and Hymns to the Virgin (ed. Furnivall, E. E. T. S. 24), p. 39, &c. All these may possibly fall under this category.
Concluding stanzas that resemble envois in their content. One example can be found in Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 31, where the final stanza includes an address to another poet. Religious poems typically wrap up with addresses to God, Christ, the Virgin, or invitations to pray, etc.; for examples, see Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 111, and Hymns to the Virgin (ed. Furnivall, E. E. T. S. 24), p. 39, etc. All of these may likely belong to this category.
Even in Modern English poetry the envoi has not quite gone out of use. Short envois occur in Spenser, Epithalamium; S. Daniel, To the Angel Spirit of Sir Philip Sidney (Poets, iv. 228); W. Scott, Marmion (Envoy, consisting of four-foot verses rhyming in couplets), Harold, Lord of the Isles, Lady of the Lake (Spenserian stanzas); Southey, Lay of the Laureate (x. 139–74), &c.; Swinburne, Poems and Ballads, i, pp. 1, 5, 141, &c.
Even in modern English poetry, the envoi is still somewhat in use. Short envois can be found in Spenser's Epithalamium; S. Daniel's To the Angel Spirit of Sir Philip Sidney (Poets, iv. 228); W. Scott's Marmion (Envoy, made up of four-foot verses rhyming in couplets), Harold, Lord of the Isles, Lady of the Lake (Spenserian stanzas); Southey's Lay of the Laureate (x. 139–74), etc.; Swinburne's Poems and Ballads, i, pp. 1, 5, 141, etc.
Concluding stanzas resembling envois occur pretty often in poets of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, as Carew, Donne, Cowley, Waller, Dodsley, &c. (cf. Metrik, ii, p. 794 note).
Concluding stanzas that look like envois are quite common in poets from the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, such as Carew, Donne, Cowley, Waller, Dodsley, etc. (see Metrik, ii, p. 794 note).
PART II
STANZAS COMMON TO MIDDLE AND MODERN
ENGLISH, AND OTHERS BASED ON THIS ANALOGY
CHAPTER III
Two-part equal-member stanzas
I. Isometrical stanzas.
§ 230. Two-line stanzas. The simplest bipartite equal-membered stanza is that of two isometrical verses only. In the Northern English translation of the Psalms (Surtees Society, vols. xvi and xix) we find, for the most part, two-line stanzas of four-foot verses rhyming in couplets, occasionally alternating with stanzas of four, six, eight, or more lines.
§ 230. Two-line stanzas. The simplest two-part stanza consists of just two lines of equal length. In the Northern English translation of the Psalms (Surtees Society, vols. xvi and xix), we mostly see two-line stanzas made up of four-beat lines that rhyme in pairs, sometimes mixed with stanzas that have four, six, eight, or more lines.
In Middle English poetry, however, this form was generally used for longer poems that were not arranged in stanzas. Although it would be possible to divide some of these (e.g. the Moral Ode), either throughout or in certain parts, into bipartite stanzas, there is no reason to suppose that any strophic arrangement was intended.
In Middle English poetry, though, this form was usually used for longer poems that weren't split into stanzas. While it could be possible to break some of these (like the Moral Ode) into bipartite stanzas, either throughout or in certain sections, there's no reason to think that any strophic arrangement was meant.
In Modern English, on the other hand, such an arrangement is often intentional, as in R. Browning, The Boy and the Angel (iv. 158), a poem of four-foot trochaic verses:
In modern English, however, this kind of arrangement is usually intentional, like in R. Browning, The Boy and the Angel (iv. 158), a poem made up of four-foot trochaic verses:
Similar stanzas in other metres occur in Longfellow, Tennyson, Thackeray, Rossetti, &c.; among them we find e.g. eight-foot trochaic and iambic-anapaestic verses (cf. Metrik, ii, § 3).
Similar stanzas in other meters can be found in Longfellow, Tennyson, Thackeray, Rossetti, etc.; among them, we see, for example, eight-foot trochaic and iambic-anapaestic verses (cf. Metrik, ii, § 3).
§ 231. More frequently we find four-line stanzas, consisting of couplets. In Middle English lyric poetry such stanzas of two short couplets are occasionally met with as early as in the Surtees Psalms, but they occur more frequently in Modern English, e.g. in M. Arnold, Urania (p. 217), and in Carew, e.g. The Inquiry (Poets, iii):
§ 231. We often come across four-line stanzas made up of couplets. In Middle English lyric poetry, these stanzas of two short couplets can be found as early as in the Surtees Psalms, but they appear more often in Modern English, such as in M. Arnold’s Urania (p. 217), and in Carew, like in The Inquiry (Poets, iii):
Regular alternation of masculine and feminine rhymes is very rarely found in this simple stanza (or indeed in any Middle English stanzas); it is, properly speaking, only a series of rhyming couplets with a stop after every fourth line.
Regular alternating masculine and feminine rhymes are rarely found in this simple stanza (or really in any Middle English stanzas); it's essentially just a series of rhyming couplets with a pause after every fourth line.
This stanza is very popular, as are also various analogous four-line stanzas in other metres. One of these is the quatrain of four-foot trochaic verses, as used by M. Arnold in The Last Word, and by Milton, e.g. in Psalm CXXXVI, where the two last lines form the refrain, so that the strophic arrangement is more distinctly marked. Stanzas of four-foot iambic-anapaestic lines we find e.g. in Moore, ’Tis the last Rose of Summer, and similar stanzas of five-foot iambic verses in Cowper, pp. 359, 410; M. Arnold, Self-Dependence (last stanza).
This stanza is quite popular, as are several similar four-line stanzas in different meters. One example is the quatrain of four-foot trochaic verses, used by M. Arnold in The Last Word and by Milton, such as in Psalm CXXXVI, where the last two lines create the refrain, making the strophic arrangement more pronounced. We see stanzas of four-foot iambic-anapaestic lines in Moore's ’Tis the last Rose of Summer, and similar stanzas of five-foot iambic verses in Cowper, pp. 359, 410; M. Arnold, Self-Dependence (last stanza).
Less common are the quatrains of four-foot dactylic lines, of three-foot iambic-anapaestic lines, of six-foot iambic and trochaic lines, of seven-foot iambic lines, and of eight-foot trochaic lines. But specimens of each of these varieties are occasionally met with (cf. Metrik, ii, § 261)
Less common are the quatrains of four-foot dactylic lines, three-foot iambic-anapaestic lines, six-foot iambic and trochaic lines, seven-foot iambic lines, and eight-foot trochaic lines. But examples of each of these types can occasionally be found (cf. Metrik, ii, § 261)
This stanza comes to a better conclusion when it winds up with a refrain, as in Percy’s Reliques, II. ii. 13. One very popular form of it consists of four-foot trochaic lines, e.g. in Burns, p. 197, M. Arnold, A Memory Picture, p. 23 (the two last lines of each stanza forming a refrain), or of four-foot iambic-anapaestic lines (Burns, My heart’s in the Highlands). Somewhat rarely it is made up of five-foot iambic or septenaric lines (cf. Metrik, ii, § 262).[188].
This stanza wraps up nicely with a refrain, much like in Percy’s Reliques, II. ii. 13. A common version features four-foot trochaic lines, for example, in Burns, p. 197, M. Arnold, A Memory Picture, p. 23 (the last two lines of each stanza acting as a refrain), or it can consist of four-foot iambic-anapaestic lines (Burns, My heart’s in the Highlands). Less frequently, it is composed of five-foot iambic or seven-foot lines (see Metrik, ii, § 262).[188].
§ 233. We have next to consider the stanzas of four isometrical lines with intermittent rhyme (a b c b). As a rule they consist of three- or four-foot verses, which are really Alexandrines or acatalectic tetrameters rhyming in long couplets, and only in their written or printed arrangement broken up into short lines; as, e.g., in the following half-stanza from the older version of the Legend of St. Katherine, really written in eight-lined stanzas (ed. Horstmann, Altenglische Legenden, Neue Folge, Heilbronn, 1881, p. 242):
§ 233. Next, we need to look at the stanzas made up of four equal-length lines with alternating rhyme (a b c b). Typically, they consist of three- or four-beat lines, which are essentially Alexandrines or complete tetrameters that rhyme in long pairs, and their written or printed format shows them divided into shorter lines; for instance, in the following half-stanza from the earlier version of the Legend of St. Katherine, originally written in eight-line stanzas (ed. Horstmann, Altenglische Legenden, Neue Folge, Heilbronn, 1881, p. 242):
Examples of such stanzas of four-foot trochaic and three-foot iambic verses that occur chiefly in Percy’s Reliques (cf. Metrik, ii, § 264), but also in M. Arnold, Calais Sands (p. 219), The Church of Brou, I., The Castle (p. 13, feminine and masculine verse-endings alternating), New Rome, p. 229, Parting, p. 191 (iambic-anapaestic three-beat and two-beat verses), Iseult of Ireland, p. 150 (iambic verses of five measures); cf. Metrik, ii, § 264
Examples of stanzas with four-foot trochaic and three-foot iambic verses can be mainly found in Percy’s Reliques (see Metrik, ii, § 264), but they're also present in M. Arnold's Calais Sands (p. 219), The Church of Brou, I., The Castle (p. 13, with feminine and masculine verse endings alternating), New Rome, p. 229, Parting, p. 191 (iambic-anapaestic three-beat and two-beat verses), Iseult of Ireland, p. 150 (iambic verses with five measures); see Metrik, ii, § 264.
§ 234. Stanzas of eight lines result from this stanza by doubling, i. e. by adding a second couplet of the same structure and rhyme to the original long-line couplet. Such a form with the scheme a b c b d b e b meet in the complete stanza of the older Legend of St. Katherine just referred to:
§ 234. Stanzas of eight lines are created from this stanza by doubling, which means adding a second couplet of the same structure and rhyme to the original long-line couplet. This form, with the pattern a b c b d b e b, appears in the complete stanza of the earlier Legend of St. Katherine mentioned earlier:
This sort of doubling, however, occurs in Modern English poetry more rarely than that which is produced by adding a second long-lined couplet, but with a new rhyme, so that when the stanza is arranged in short lines we have the scheme a b c b d e f e.
This kind of doubling, however, happens in Modern English poetry less often than the addition of a second long-lined couplet with a new rhyme, so that when the stanza is organized in short lines, we get the pattern a b c b d e f e.
A stanza like this of trochaic lines we find in Hymns Ancient and Modern, No. 419:
A stanza like this made up of trochaic lines can be found in Hymns Ancient and Modern, No. 419:
Still more frequent are stanzas of this kind consisting of four-foot and three-foot iambic lines, or of two-foot iambic-anapaestic and trochaic-dactylic lines (cf. Metrik, ii, § 265)
Still more common are stanzas like this made up of four-foot and three-foot iambic lines, or of two-foot iambic-anapaestic and trochaic-dactylic lines (cf. Metrik, ii, § 265)
The first half-stanza is as follows:
The first half-stanza is as follows:
Stanzas like this, which are frequent in Low Latin, Provençal, and Old French poetry, are very common in Middle and Modern English poetry. Examples may be found in Ritson’s Ancient Songs, i, p. 40, Surrey, pp. 37, 56, &c., Burns, p.97, &c., M. Arnold, Saint Brandan, p. 165, &c. Masculine and feminine rhymes do not alternate very often (cf. Percy’s Reliques, I. iii. 13). More frequently we find stanzas with refrain verses, e.g. Wyatt, p. 70.
Stanzas like this, which are common in Low Latin, Provençal, and Old French poetry, also appear frequently in Middle and Modern English poetry. You can find examples in Ritson’s Ancient Songs, i, p. 40, Surrey, pp. 37, 56, etc., Burns, p. 97, etc., M. Arnold, Saint Brandan, p. 165, etc. Masculine and feminine rhymes don’t alternate very often (see Percy’s Reliques, I. iii. 13). More often, we come across stanzas with refrain verses, such as in Wyatt, p. 70.
Stanzas of this kind consisting of four- or three-foot iambic, trochaic, iambic-anapaestic, trochaic-dactylic lines, of three-foot iambic lines, or of two-foot dactylic or other lines are also very common, e.g. in M. Arnold’s A Modern Sappho (with alternating masculine and feminine verse-endings), Pis Aller (p. 230), Requiescat (p. 21).
Stanzas like this, made up of four- or three-foot iambic, trochaic, iambic-anapaestic, trochaic-dactylic lines, three-foot iambic lines, or two-foot dactylic or other lines, are also really common. For example, in M. Arnold’s A Modern Sappho (with alternating masculine and feminine verse endings), Pis Aller (p. 230), Requiescat (p. 21).
Another stanza of great importance is what is called the elegiac stanza, which consists of four five-foot verses with crossed rhymes. In Middle English literature it was only used as a part of the Rhyme-Royal and of the eight-lined stanza. In Modern English, however, it has been used from the beginning more frequently; it occurs already in Wyatt (p. 58):
Another stanza of great importance is known as the elegiac stanza, which consists of four five-foot lines with alternating rhymes. In Middle English literature, it was only used as part of the Rhyme-Royal and the eight-line stanza. In Modern English, however, it has been used more frequently from the start; it appears already in Wyatt (p. 58):
Other examples are found in M. Arnold’s poems Palladium (p. 251), Revolutions (p. 254), Self Deception (p. 225, with alternate masculine and feminine rhymes). This stanza is very popular throughout the Modern English period (cf. Metrik, ii, § 267).
Other examples can be found in M. Arnold’s poems Palladium (p. 251), Revolutions (p. 254), and Self Deception (p. 225, featuring alternating masculine and feminine rhymes). This stanza is widely used during the Modern English period (see Metrik, ii, § 267).
Stanzas of this kind, however, consisting of trochaic verses, of six-foot (as in Tennyson’s Maud), seven- and eight-foot metres are not very frequently met with (cf. Metrik, ii, § 269)
Stanzas like these, made up of trochaic lines, six feet long (like in Tennyson’s Maud), and those with seven or eight feet, are not often encountered (see Metrik, ii, § 269).
§ 236. The four-lined, cross-rhyming stanza gives rise by doubling to the eight-lined (a b a b a b a b), which occurs very often in Middle English, as in Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 99, or in the Luve-Rone by Thomas de Hales, ed. Morris (Old Eng. Misc., p. 93), where both masculine and feminine rhymes are used:
§ 236. The four-line stanza with cross-rhyme expands into the eight-line format (a b a b a b a b), which is quite common in Middle English, as seen in Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 99, or in the Luve-Rone by Thomas de Hales, ed. Morris (Old Eng. Misc., p. 93), where both masculine and feminine rhymes are included:
Stanzas of this kind are met with also in Modern English, as in Burns (p. 262); stanzas of four-stressed lines are found in Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 110, and others of three-foot verses in Polit. Poems, i. 270.
Stanzas like these can also be found in Modern English, like in Burns (p. 262); stanzas with four stressed lines appear in Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 110, and others with three-foot verses in Polit. Poems, i. 270.
There is still another mode of doubling, by which the four originally long-lined verses are broken up by the use of two different inserted rhymes; the scheme is then: a b a b c b c b. This is the stanza to which the second version of the Legend of St. Katherine has been adapted in paraphrasing it from the first (cf. §§ 77, 78, 235):
This stanza occurs, e.g., in Burns (p. 201). Less common is the form of stanza a b a b a c a c (e.g. in Wyatt, p. 48) resulting from the breaking up two rhyming couplets of long lines by inserted rhyme (not from four long lines with one rhyme).
This stanza appears, for example, in Burns (p. 201). Less common is the form of stanza a b a b a c a c (e.g. in Wyatt, p. 48), which comes from breaking up two rhyming couplets of long lines with an inserted rhyme (not from four long lines with one rhyme).
The common mode of doubling is by adding to a four-lined stanza a second of exactly the same structure, but with new rhymes. Some few examples occur in Middle English in the Surtees Psalter, Ps. xliv, ll. 11, 12. Very frequently, however, we find it in Modern English constructed of the most varying metres, as, e.g., of five-foot iambic verses in Milton, Psalm VIII (vol. iii, p. 29):
The usual way to double a stanza is by adding a second four-line stanza that follows the same structure but uses new rhymes. There are a few examples of this in Middle English in the Surtees Psalter, Ps. xliv, ll. 11, 12. However, it’s much more common to see this in Modern English, made with a variety of different meters, such as five-foot iambic lines in Milton's Psalm VIII (vol. iii, p. 29):
More popular are stanzas of this kind consisting of three- or four-foot iambic, trochaic, and iambic-anapaestic verses, sometimes with alternate masculine and feminine rhymes. (For specimens see Metrik, ii, § 271.)
More popular are stanzas like this that consist of three- or four-foot iambic, trochaic, and iambic-anapaestic verses, sometimes featuring alternating masculine and feminine rhymes. (For examples, see Metrik, ii, § 271.)
§ 237. Only very few examples occur of the sixteen-lined doubling of this stanza, according to the scheme a b a b c d c d e f e f g h g h2; it occurs, e.g., in Moore, When Night brings the Hour. Another form of eight lines (a b c d . a b c d3) is met with in Rossetti, The Shadows (ii. 249); it seems to be constructed on the analogy of a six-lined stanza (a b c . a b c), which is used pretty often. This stanza, which is closely allied to the tail-rhyme stanza described in § 238, consists most commonly of four-foot iambic verses; it occurs, e.g., in Campbell, Ode to the Memory of Burns (p. 19):
§ 237. There are only a few examples of the sixteen-line doubling of this stanza, following the pattern a b a b c d c d e f e f g h g h2; one such example is found in Moore's When Night brings the Hour. Another eight-line form (a b c d . a b c d3) appears in Rossetti's The Shadows (ii. 249); it seems to be based on a six-line stanza (a b c . a b c), which is used quite frequently. This stanza, which is closely related to the tail-rhyme stanza described in § 238, is most commonly made up of four-foot iambic lines; it can be seen in Campbell's Ode to the Memory of Burns (p. 19):
Specimens of forms of stanzas like this, consisting of other kinds of verse, e.g. of three-foot trochaic-dactylic verse, as in M. Arnold’s The Lord’s Messenger (p. 231), are given in Metrik, ii, § 272
Specimens of stanza forms like this, made up of other types of verse, such as three-foot trochaic-dactylic verse, as in M. Arnold’s The Lord’s Messenger (p. 231), are provided in Metrik, ii, § 272
§ 238. From the four- and eight-lined bipartite equal-membered isometrical stanzas, dealt with in the preceding paragraphs, it will be convenient to proceed to the six-lined stanzas of similar structure. To these belongs a certain form of the tail-rhyme stanza, the nature and origin of which will be discussed when we treat of the chief form, which consists of unequal verses. The isometrical six-lined stanzas to be discussed here show the same structure as the common tail-rhyme stanza, viz. a a b c c b. An example is afforded in a song, Ritson, i. 10:
§ 238. From the four- and eight-lined equal-membered isometric stanzas we covered earlier, let's move on to the six-lined stanzas with a similar structure. This includes a specific type of tail-rhyme stanza, which we will explore further when we look at the main form that consists of uneven lines. The isometric six-lined stanzas we'll discuss here have the same structure as the typical tail-rhyme stanza, which is a a b c c b. An example can be found in a song, Ritson, i. 10:
In Modern English this stanza occurs very often, e.g. in Drayton, To the New Year (Poets, iii. 579); as a rule, however, it consists of four-foot iambic verses; e.g. in Suckling in a song (Poets, iii. 748):
In modern English, this stanza appears quite frequently, for example, in Drayton, To the New Year (Poets, iii. 579); generally, though, it consists of four-foot iambic lines; for instance, in Suckling's song (Poets, iii. 748):
In this poem all the tail-verses are feminine throughout; in other cases there are masculine and feminine verses, more often we find masculine or feminine exclusively; but usually they interchange without any rule. Examples of these varieties, and also of similar stanzas consisting of three-foot trochaic verses, of two- and three-foot iambic-anapaestic, and of five-foot iambic lines are given in Metrik, ii, § 273.
In this poem, all the final lines are feminine throughout; in other cases, there are both masculine and feminine lines, but more often, we exclusively find either masculine or feminine lines; usually, they switch back and forth without any specific pattern. Examples of these variations, along with similar stanzas made up of three-beat trochaic lines, two- and three-beat iambic-anapestic lines, and five-beat iambic lines, can be found in Metrik, ii, § 273.
Stanzas of this form consisting of two-stressed verses occurring in Middle English poems have been quoted in § 65
Stanzas of this type, made up of two-stressed lines found in Middle English poems, have been referenced in § 65.
§ 239. A variety that belongs to Modern English only is that in which the tail-verses are placed at the head of the half-stanzas, according to the formula a b b a c c. It occurs in Ben Jonson’s Hymn to God (Poets, iv. 561), consisting of two-foot iambic verses; another example, with four-foot trochaic verses, occurs in Mrs. Browning, A Portrait (iii. 57); cf. Metrik, ii, § 274.
§ 239. A variety that is unique to Modern English is one where the tail verses are placed at the beginning of the half-stanzas, following the pattern a b b a c c. This can be found in Ben Jonson’s Hymn to God (Poets, iv. 561), which is made up of two-foot iambic verses; another example, featuring four-foot trochaic verses, can be found in Mrs. Browning's A Portrait (iii. 57); see also Metrik, ii, § 274.
A twelve-lined stanza, resulting from the doubling of the six-line stanza, is found only in Middle English poetry, its arrangement of rhymes being a a b c c b d d b e e b; or with a more elaborate rhyme-order, a a b a a b c c b c c b, as in Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 41.
A twelve-line stanza, created by doubling a six-line stanza, is only seen in Middle English poetry. Its rhyme scheme is a a b c c b d d b e e b; or with a more complex rhyme pattern, a a b a a b c c b c c b, as demonstrated in Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 41.
Still another modification of the simple six-lined stanza consists in the addition of a third rhyme-verse to the two rhyming couplets of each half-stanza; so that an eight-lined stanza results with the scheme a a a b c c c b. Two specimens of this kind of stanza, consisting of two-stressed lines and occurring in Early English dramatic poetry, have been quoted above, § 70.
Still another variation of the simple six-line stanza involves adding a third rhyme line to the two rhyming couplets in each half-stanza, resulting in an eight-line stanza with the rhyme scheme a a a b c c c b. Two examples of this type of stanza, made up of two-stressed lines and found in Early English dramatic poetry, have been mentioned above, § 70.
The same stanza of two-foot verses occurs in the Coventry Mysteries, p. 342. In Modern English, too, we find it sometimes, consisting of three-foot iambic verses, as in Longfellow, King Olaf’s Death Drink (p. 577). Stanzas of five-, four-, and two-foot iambic verses and other metres are likewise in use. (For examples see Metrik, ii, § 275.) Some rarely occurring extended forms of this stanza are exemplified in Metrik, ii, § 277, their schemes being a ~ a ~ b ~ c d ~ d ~ b ~ c4, a ~ b ~ c ~ d e ~ f ~ g ~ d3, a b b c a d d c4, a a a a b c c c c b4.
The same stanza of two-foot verses appears in the Coventry Mysteries, p. 342. In Modern English, we also find it sometimes, consisting of three-foot iambic verses, like in Longfellow's King Olaf’s Death Drink (p. 577). Stanzas of five-, four-, and two-foot iambic verses and other meters are also in use. (For examples, see Metrik, ii, § 275.) Some rarely occurring extended forms of this stanza are shown in Metrik, ii, § 277, with their patterns being a ~ a ~ b ~ c d ~ d ~ b ~ c4, a ~ b ~ c ~ d e ~ f ~ g ~ d3, a b b c a d d c4, a a a a b c c c c b4.
Sixteen-lined stanzas of this kind of two-stressed verses (rhyming a a a b c c c b d d d b e e e b) that were frequently used in Middle English Romances have been quoted and discussed above, § 65.
Sixteen-line stanzas of this type of two-stressed verses (rhyming a a a b c c c b d d d b e e e b) that were commonly used in Middle English romances have been quoted and discussed above, § 65.
II. Anisometrical Stanzas.
§ 240. In connexion with the last section, the chief species of the tail-rhyme stanza may be discussed here first of all. This stanza, as a rule, consists of four four-foot and two three-foot verses, rhyming according to the scheme a a4 b3 c c4 b3; cf. the following specimen (Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 101):
§ 240. In connection with the previous section, the main types of the tail-rhyme stanza will be discussed here first. Typically, this stanza consists of four lines with four beats and two lines with three beats, following the rhyme scheme a a4 b3 c c4 b3; see the following example (Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 101):
The last line of each half-stanza, the tail-verse proper, was originally simply a refrain. The tripartite character of the half-stanza and the popular origin of the stanza was shown long ago by Wolf, Über die Lais, Sequenzen und Leiche, p. 27 (cf. Engl. Metrik, i, pp. 353–7). According to him this stanza was developed first of all from choruses sung in turn by the people and from the ecclesiastical responses which also had a popular origin, and lastly from the sequences and ‘proses’ of the middle ages.
The last line of each half-stanza, known as the tail-verse, initially served as a refrain. Wolf demonstrated the tripartite nature of the half-stanza and its popular origins a long time ago in Über die Lais, Sequenzen und Leiche, p. 27 (see also Engl. Metrik, i, pp. 353–7). He argued that this stanza developed primarily from choruses sung alternately by the community and from ecclesiastical responses that also had popular roots, and finally from the sequences and ‘proses’ of the middle ages.
A sequence-verse such as:
A sequence of verses like:
in its tripartition corresponds to the first half of the above-quoted Middle English tail-rhyme stanza:
in its division corresponds to the first half of the above-quoted Middle English tail-rhyme stanza:
When two long lines like this, connected with each other by the rhyme of the last section, the two first sections of each line being also combined by leonine rhyme, are broken up into six short verses, we have the tail-rhyme stanza in the form above described. This form was frequently used in Low Latin poetry, and thence passed into Romanic and Teutonic literature.
When two long lines like this are linked together by the rhyme of the last part, with the first parts of each line also tied together by a leonine rhyme, and then broken down into six short verses, we have the tail-rhyme stanza as described above. This format was commonly used in Low Latin poetry and then made its way into Romance and Germanic literature.
A form even more extensively used in Middle and Modern English poetry is that in which the tail-verse has feminine instead of masculine endings. A Modern English specimen from Drayton’s poem To Sir Henry Goodere (Poets, iii. 576) may be quoted; it begins:
A form that is even more widely used in Middle and Modern English poetry is the one where the final line has feminine endings instead of masculine endings. A Modern English example from Drayton’s poem To Sir Henry Goodere (Poets, iii. 576) can be cited; it starts:
This, the chief form of the tail-rhyme stanza, has been in use throughout the whole Modern English period. There has, however, never been any fixed rule as to the employment of feminine or masculine rhymes. Sometimes feminine tail-rhymes with masculine couplets are used (as in the example above), sometimes masculine rhymes only, while in other instances masculine and feminine rhymes are employed indiscriminately.
This, the main type of tail-rhyme stanza, has been used throughout the entire Modern English period. However, there has never been a strict rule regarding the use of feminine or masculine rhymes. Sometimes, feminine tail-rhymes are paired with masculine couplets (like in the example above), at other times only masculine rhymes are used, and in other cases, masculine and feminine rhymes are used without distinction.
Iambic-anapaestic verses of four or three measures were also sometimes used in this form of stanza, as in Moore, Hero and Leander.
Iambic-anapestic lines of four or three measures were also occasionally used in this type of stanza, like in Moore, Hero and Leander.
There are a great many varieties of this main form; the stanza may consist, for instance, of four- and two-foot iambic or trochaic lines, or of iambic lines of three and two, five and three, five and two measures, according to the schemes a a b c c4 b2, a a3 b2 c c3 b2, a a5 b3 c c5 b3, a a5 b2 c c5 b2, and a3 b b5 a3 c c5 (the tail-verses in front). For examples see Metrik, ii, § 279
There are many different types of this basic form; a stanza can consist, for example, of four- and two-foot iambic or trochaic lines, or of iambic lines with three and two, five and three, five and two measures, based on the patterns a a b c c4 b2, a a3 b2 c c3 b2, a a5 b3 c c5 b3, a a5 b2 c c5 b2, and a3 b b5 a3 c c5 (the tail verses come first). For examples, see Metrik, ii, § 279.
We are not in a position to quote a Modern English specimen of this stanza, but it was very popular in Middle English poetry, both in lyrics and in legends or romances, and in later dramatic poetry.[189].
We can't provide a Modern English version of this stanza, but it was really popular in Middle English poetry, both in songs and in legends or romances, as well as in later dramatic poetry.[189].
§ 242. As to the further development of the tail-rhyme stanza, the enlarged forms must first be mentioned. They are produced by adding a third line to the principal lines of each half-stanza; the result being an eight-lined stanza of the formula a a a4 b3 c c c4 b3. Stanzas of this form occur in Early Middle English lyrics, e.g. in Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 51 (with a refrain-stanza) and Polit. Songs, p. 187 (four-stressed main verses and two-stressed tail-verses, the latter having occasionally the appearance of being in three-beat rhythm).
§ 242. Regarding the further development of the tail-rhyme stanza, we should first mention the expanded forms. These are created by adding a third line to the main lines of each half-stanza, resulting in an eight-line stanza with the formula a a a4 b3 c c c4 b3. Stanzas of this type can be found in Early Middle English lyrics, for example, in Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 51 (which includes a refrain-stanza) and Polit. Songs, p. 187 (four-stressed main verses and two-stressed tail verses, the latter occasionally appearing to have a three-beat rhythm).
In Modern English poetry this stanza is extensively used. We find it in Drayton, Nymphidia (Poets, iii. 177), with feminine tail-verses:
In modern English poetry, this stanza is widely used. We see it in Drayton, Nymphidia (Poets, iii. 177), with feminine tail verses:
Other examples of this stanza, as of similar ones, consisting of four- and three-foot trochaic and iambic-anapaestic verses, are given in Metrik, ii, § 280.
Other examples of this stanza, along with similar ones, made up of four- and three-foot trochaic and iambic-anapaestic verses, are provided in Metrik, ii, § 280.
There are some subdivisions of this stanza consisting of verses of three and two measures, of four and two measures, four and one measure, five and two, and five and one measure, according to the formulae a a a3 b2 c c c3 b2, a a a4 b2 c c c4 b2, a a a4 b1 c c c4 b1, a a a5 b2 c c c5 b2, a a a5 b1 c c c5 b1. For specimens see Metrik, ii, § 281.
There are several subdivisions of this stanza made up of verses with three and two measures, four and two measures, four and one measure, five and two measures, and five and one measure, following the patterns a a a3 b2 c c c3 b2, a a a4 b2 c c c4 b2, a a a4 b1 c c c4 b1, a a a5 b2 c c c5 b2, a a a5 b1 c c c5 b1. For examples, see Metrik, ii, § 281.
The ten-lined tail-rhyme stanza occurs very rarely; we have an example in Longfellow’s The Goblet of Life (p. 114), its formula being a a a a4 b3 c c c c4 b3
The ten-lined tail-rhyme stanza is quite rare; we have an example in Longfellow’s The Goblet of Life (p. 114), with its structure being a a a a4 b3 c c c c4 b3
§ 243. We find, however, pretty often—though only in Modern English—certain variant forms of the enlarged eight- and ten-lined tail-rhyme stanzas, the chief verses of which are of unequal length in each half-stanza; as in Congreve’s poem, On Miss Temple (Poets, vii. 568). In this poem the first verse of each half-stanza is shortened by one foot, in accordance with the formula a3 a a4 b3 c3 c c4 b3:
§ 243. We often notice—though only in Modern English—some different versions of the extended eight- and ten-lined tail-rhyme stanzas, where the main lines in each half-stanza have different lengths; as seen in Congreve’s poem, On Miss Temple (Poets, vii. 568). In this poem, the first line of each half-stanza is shortened by one foot, following the pattern a3 a a4 b3 c3 c c4 b3:
Stanzas of cognate form are quoted in Metrik, ii, §§ 283–5, constructed according to the schemes: a a2 a4 b3 c c2 c4 b3, a3 b b4 c ~2 a3 d d4 c ~2 (with a varying first rhyme in the chief verses), a a b b4 c2 d d e e4 c2 (ten lines, with a new rhyming couplet in the half-stanza), a a b b c3 C2 a a b b c3 C2 (an analogous twelve-lined stanza, extended by refrain in each half-stanza), a b a b5 c3 d e d e5 c3 (crossed rhymes in the principal verses).
Stanzas of similar form are quoted in Metrik, ii, §§ 283–5, constructed according to the patterns: a a2 a4 b3 c c2 c4 b3, a3 b b4 c ~2 a3 d d4 c ~2 (with a changing first rhyme in the main lines), a a b b4 c2 d d e e4 c2 (ten lines, featuring a new rhyming couplet in the half-stanza), a a b b c3 C2 a a b b c3 C2 (a similar twelve-line stanza with a refrain in each half-stanza), a b a b5 c3 d e d e5 c3 (crossed rhymes in the main lines).
Two uncommon variations that do not, strictly speaking, belong to the isocolic stanzas, correspond to the formulas a b b5 c2 c d d5 a2, a b a4 c ~2 b a b4 c ~2
Two rare variations that don’t exactly fit into the isocolic stanzas correspond to the formulas a b b5 c2 c d d5 a2, a b a4 c ~2 b a b4 c ~2
§ 244. Another step in the development of the tail-rhyme stanza consisted in making the principal verses of the half-stanza shorter than the tail-verse. Models for this form existed in Low Latin, Provençal, and Old French poetry (cf. Metrik, i, § 366). In Middle English, however, there are not many stanzas of this form. We have an example in Dunbar’s poem Of the Ladyis Solistaris at Court (a a2 b3 c c2 b3 d d2 e3 f f2 e3):
§ 244. Another step in the development of the tail-rhyme stanza involved making the main lines of the half-stanza shorter than the tail-line. Examples of this form can be found in Low Latin, Provençal, and Old French poetry (cf. Metrik, i, § 366). However, there aren’t many stanzas like this in Middle English. We have an example in Dunbar’s poem Of the Ladyis Solistaris at Court (a a2 b3 c c2 b3 d d2 e3 f f2 e3):
The same rhythmical structure is found in the old ballad, The Notbrowne Maid, in Percy’s Reliques, vol. ii. In this collection the poem is printed in twelve-lined stanzas of four- and three-foot verses. Skeat, however, in his Specimens of English Literature, printed it in stanzas of six long lines.
The same rhythmic structure appears in the old ballad, The Notbrowne Maid, found in Percy’s Reliques, vol. ii. In this collection, the poem is printed in twelve-line stanzas of four- and three-foot verses. Skeat, however, in his Specimens of English Literature, printed it in stanzas of six long lines.
In either arrangement the relationship of the metre to the Septenary verse comes clearly out.
In both setups, the relationship between the meter and the Septenary verse becomes clear.
In Modern English this stanza is also very popular. It occurs in Scott (p. 460, a a2 b3 c c2 b3), Burns (doubled, p. 61, a a2 b3 c c2 b3 d d2 e3 f f2 e3, p. 211, a a2 b3 c c2 b3 d d2 b3 e e2 b3).
In Modern English, this stanza is also very popular. It appears in Scott (p. 460, a a2 b3 c c2 b3), Burns (doubled, p. 61, a a2 b3 c c2 b3 d d2 e3 f f2 e3, p. 211, a a2 b3 c c2 b3 d d2 b3 e e2 b3).
Often there are also two- and three-foot iambic-anapaestic verses combined in stanzas of this kind, as in Cowper (p. 427), Burns (p. 244), &c.
Often, there are also two- and three-foot iambic-anapaestic verses combined in stanzas like this, as in Cowper (p. 427), Burns (p. 244), etc.
Subordinate varieties of this stanza consisting of other verses are quoted, with specimens, in Metrik, ii, §§ 286–8, after the formulas: a a4 b5 c c4 b5, a a4 b6 c c4 b6, a a3 b5 c c3 b5, a a3 b c c b4, a a2 b4 c c2 b4, a ~ a ~ b ~ b ~ c d ~ d ~ e ~ e ~2 c3
Subordinate types of this stanza, made up of different verses, are referenced with examples in Metrik, ii, §§ 286–8, following the patterns: a a4 b5 c c4 b5, a a4 b6 c c4 b6, a a3 b5 c c3 b5, a a3 b c c b4, a a2 b4 c c2 b4, a ~ a ~ b ~ b ~ c d ~ d ~ e ~ e ~2 c3
Such a variety occurs in a tail-rhyme stanza of four-foot trochaic verses, the second verse of each half-stanza being shortened by two measures. It was used by Donne in his translation of Psalm 137 (Poets, iv, 43):
Such a variety appears in a tail-rhyme stanza of four-foot trochaic verses, where the second verse of each half-stanza is shortened by two measures. It was used by Donne in his translation of Psalm 137 (Poets, iv, 43):
The same stanza we find in Longfellow, Tales of a Wayside Inn, v (p. 552). Similar stanzas are quoted in Metrik, ii, § 289, their schemes being a3 a2 b3 c3 c2 b3, a3 a2 b5 c3 c2 b5, a4 b3 b2 a4 c3 c2 (the tail-rhyme verse put in front)
The same stanza can be found in Longfellow's Tales of a Wayside Inn, v (p. 552). Similar stanzas are referenced in Metrik, ii, § 289, with their schemes being a3 a2 b3 c3 c2 b3, a3 a2 b5 c3 c2 b5, a4 b3 b2 a4 c3 c2 (the tail-rhyme verse placed in front).
Other stanzas of this kind show the scheme: a4 b5 c3 a4 b5 c3, a b2 c4 a b2 c4, a2 b3 c1 a2 b3 c1, a ~ b a ~ b4 c ~6 d ~ e d ~ e4 c ~6; cf. Metrik, ii, § 290.
Other stanzas of this type show the pattern: a4 b5 c3 a4 b5 c3, a b2 c4 a b2 c4, a2 b3 c1 a2 b3 c1, a ~ b a ~ b4 c ~6 d ~ e d ~ e4 c ~6; cf. Metrik, ii, § 290.
A stanza belonging to this group, and consisting of ten lines rhyming according to the formula a b a b3 c6 d e d e3 c6, occurs in M. Arnold’s Empedocles on Etna, p. 446 (printed in stanzas of five lines)
A stanza from this group, made up of ten lines that rhyme in the pattern a b a b3 c6 d e d e3 c6, appears in M. Arnold’s Empedocles on Etna, p. 446 (formatted in stanzas of five lines).
§ 247. Another metre, which was equally popular with the tail-rhyme stanza with its many varieties, is the stanza formed of two Septenary verses (catalectic tetrameters). In the Middle English period we find it used with feminine rhymes only; afterwards, however, there are both feminine and masculine rhymes, and in modern times the feminine ending is quite exceptional. This metre, broken up into four lines, is one of the oldest and most popular of equal-membered stanzas. One of its forms[190] has in hymn-books the designation of Common Metre.
§ 247. Another meter that was also popular alongside the tail-rhyme stanza, with its many variations, is the stanza made up of two seven-syllable lines (catalectic tetrameters). During the Middle English period, it was used only with feminine rhymes; however, later on, there were both feminine and masculine rhymes, and in modern times, the feminine ending is quite rare. This meter, broken into four lines, is one of the oldest and most popular forms of equal-membered stanzas. One of its forms[190] is referred to in hymn books as Common Metre.
Middle and Modern English specimens of this simple form have been given above (§§ 77, 78, 136, 138–40); in some of them the verses rhyme and are printed as long lines; in others the verses rhyme in long lines but are printed as short ones (a b c b), and in others, again, the verses both rhyme and are printed as short lines (a b a b).
Middle and Modern English examples of this simple form have been provided above (§§ 77, 78, 136, 138–40); in some of them, the lines rhyme and are shown as long lines; in others, the lines rhyme in long format but are displayed as short ones (a b c b), and in others, the lines both rhyme and are printed as short lines (a b a b).
On the analogy of this stanza, especially of the short-lined rhyming form, and of the doubled form with intermittent rhyme (which is, properly speaking, a stanza rhyming in long lines), there have been developed many new strophic forms. One of the most popular of these is the stanza consisting alternately of four- and three-foot iambic-anapaestic verses. In this form is written, e.g. the celebrated poem of Charles Wolfe, The Burial of Sir John Moore (cf. § 191):
On the model of this stanza, particularly the short-lined rhyming structure and the doubled version with occasional rhyme (which is essentially a stanza with long lines), many new stanza forms have emerged. One of the most popular is the stanza that alternates between four- and three-foot iambic-anapaestic verses. An example of this form is the famous poem by Charles Wolfe, The Burial of Sir John Moore (see § 191):
In other poems there are masculine rhymes only, as in Cowper (p. 429).
In other poems, there are only masculine rhymes, like in Cowper (p. 429).
Stanzas of this structure, composed of trochaic verses or of trochaic mixed with iambic or of dactylic mixed with iambic-anapaestic verses, are not frequent. (For examples see Metrik, ii, § 292.)
Stanzas with this structure, made up of trochaic lines or a mix of trochaic and iambic lines or dactylic and iambic lines—A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0—anapaestic lines, are rare. (For examples see Metrik, ii, § 292.)
Another of five- and four-foot verses (a5 b4 a5 b4) occurs in Cowley, The long Life (Poets, v. 264):
Another of five- and four-foot verses (a5 b4 a5 b4) appears in Cowley, The long Life (Poets, v. 264):
Other less common analogous forms are given in Metrik, ii, § 298, the formulas being a5 b3 a5 b3, a3 b5 a3 b5, a5 b2 a5 b2, a2 b5 a2 b5.
Other less common similar forms are found in Metrik, ii, § 298, with the formulas being a5 b3 a5 b3, a3 b5 a3 b5, a5 b2 a5 b2, a2 b5 a2 b5.
There are also stanzas of anisometrical verses rhyming in couplets, but they occur very rarely. An example is Donne’s The Paradox (Poets, iv. 397), after the scheme a5 a3 b5 b3:
There are also sections of uneven verses that rhyme in pairs, but they are quite rare. An example is Donne’s The Paradox (Poets, iv. 397), following the pattern a5 a3 b5 b3:
§ 249. Pretty often we find—not indeed in middle English, but in Modern English poetry—eight-lined (doubled) forms of the different four-lined stanzas. Only doubled forms, however, of the formula a4 b3 a4 b3 c4 d3 c4 d3 are employed with any frequency; they have either only masculine rhymes or rhymes which vary between masculine and feminine. An example of the latter kind we have in Drayton’s To his coy Love (Poets, iii. 585):
§ 249. Nowadays, we often see—not in Middle English, but in modern English poetry—eight-line (doubled) versions of different four-line stanzas. However, only the doubled versions of the pattern a4 b3 a4 b3 c4 d3 c4 d3 are commonly used; these usually have only masculine rhymes or rhymes that alternate between masculine and feminine. An example of the latter type can be found in Drayton’s To his coy Love (Poets, iii. 585):
Eight-lined stanzas with the following schemes are not common:—a4 b3 c4 b3 a4 b3 c4 b3, a4 b3 a4 b3 c4 b3 c4 b3, a4 b3 a4 b3 a4 b3 a4 b3, a ~3 b4 a ~3 b4 c ~3 d4 c ~3 d4, a4 b3 c4 b3 d4 e3 f4 e3. Only in the last stanza and in the usual form a b a b c d c d we find trochaic and iambic-anapaestic verses. An example of the latter sort which is pretty often met with we have in Cunningham’s The Sycamore Shade (Poets, x. 717):
Eight-line stanzas with the following patterns are not common:—a4 b3 c4 b3 a4 b3 c4 b3, a4 b3 a4 b3 c4 b3 c4 b3, a4 b3 a4 b3 a4 b3 a4 b3, a ~3 b4 a ~3 b4 c ~3 d4 c ~3 d4, a4 b3 c4 b3 d4 e3 f4 e3. Only in the last stanza and in the typical form a b a b c d c d do we find trochaic and iambic-anapaestic verses. An example of the latter type that is fairly common is found in Cunningham’s The Sycamore Shade (Poets, x. 717):
For specimens of the other subordinate varieties and of the rare twelve-lined stanza (a4 b3 c4 b3 d4 b3 e4 f3 d4 f3 g4 f3 and a4 b ~3 a4 b ~3 a4 b ~3 c4 d ~3 c4 d ~3 c4 d ~3) see Metrik, ii, §§ 295, 296
For examples of the other lesser varieties and the rare twelve-line stanza (a4 b3 c4 b3 d4 b3 e4 f3 d4 f3 g4 f3 and a4 b ~3 a4 b ~3 a4 b ~3 c4 d ~3 c4 d ~3 c4 d ~3), see Metrik, ii, §§ 295, 296.
a4 b ~2 a4 b ~2 a4 b ~2 a4 b ~2, a3 b ~2 a3 b ~2 c3 d ~2 c3 d ~2, a ~2 b3 a ~2 b3 c ~2 d3 c ~2 d3, a ~4 b5 a ~4 b5 c ~4 d5 c ~4 d5, and a5 a4 b5 b4 c5 c4 d5 d4.
a4 b ~2 a4 b ~2 a4 b ~2 a4 b ~2, a3 b ~2 a3 b ~2 c3 d ~2 c3 d ~2, a ~2 b3 a ~2 b3 c ~2 d3 c ~2 d3, a ~4 b5 a ~4 b5 c ~4 d5 c ~4 d5, and a5 a4 b5 b4 c5 c4 d5 d4.
We must here refer to some eight-lined stanzas which have this common feature that the two half-stanzas are exactly alike, but the half-stanzas themselves consist of unequal members. These, however, will be treated in the next chapter.
We need to mention some eight-line stanzas that share a common trait: the two half-stanzas are exactly the same, but the half-stanzas themselves have unequal parts. These will be discussed in the next chapter.
In this connexion may be also mentioned the doubled Poulter’s Measure, which occurs somewhat frequently, as in Hymns Ancient and Modern, No. 149:
In this connection, we should also mention the doubled Poulter’s Measure, which appears quite often, like in Hymns Ancient and Modern, No. 149:
The same form of stanza was used in Hood’s well-known Song of the Shirt (p. 183).
The same type of stanza was used in Hood’s famous Song of the Shirt (p. 183).
Other stanzas of similar structure are given with specimens in Metrik, ii, §§ 300, 301; their formulas are a4 a4 b2 b5 c4 c4 d2 d5, a b a4 b3 c d c4 d3 (Moore, Dreaming for ever), a3 b b4 a3 c3 d d4 c3, a b a3 b2 c d c3 d2, a3 b2 c4 a2 d3 b2 c4 d2; in the same place we have mentioned some ten-lined stanzas of the forms a a4 b b2 a4 c c4 d d2 c4 (Moore, The Young May Moon) and a3 a2 b5 b2 c4 d3 d2 e5 e2 c4, &c.
Other stanzas with a similar structure can be found in Metrik, ii, §§ 300, 301; their patterns are a4 a4 b2 b5 c4 c4 d2 d5, a b a4 b3 c d c4 d3 (Moore, Dreaming for ever), a3 b b4 a3 c3 d d4 c3, a b a3 b2 c d c3 d2, a3 b2 c4 a2 d3 b2 c4 d2; in the same section, we have noted some ten-line stanzas in the forms a a4 b b2 a4 c c4 d d2 c4 (Moore, The Young May Moon) and a3 a2 b5 b2 c4 d3 d2 e5 e2 c4, &c.
CHAPTER IV
ONE-RHYMED UNDIVIDED AND DIVIDED
UNEQUAL MEMBER STANZAS
I. One-rhymed and indivisible stanzas.
The one-rhymed stanzas, taken as a whole, cannot without qualification be ranged under any of the other kinds of stanza. The four-lined and eight-lined stanzas of this form, it is true, do for the most part seem to belong so far as their syntactical structure is concerned to the bipartite, equal-membered class (a a, a a; a a a a, a a a a). But those of six lines may belong either to the bipartite (a a a, a a a) or to the tripartite class (a a, a a, a a). It is even more difficult to draw a sharp line of distinction when the strophes have an odd number of lines.
The one-rhymed stanzas, when considered as a whole, can't be easily classified as any other type of stanza without some exceptions. The four-line and eight-line stanzas of this type mostly seem to fit into the bipartite, equal-membered category (a a, a a; a a a a, a a a a) based on their syntactical structure. However, the six-line stanzas can either belong to the bipartite category (a a a, a a a) or the tripartite category (a a, a a, a a). It's even harder to make a clear distinction when the strophes have an odd number of lines.
In no case is there such a definite demarcation between the chief parts in these one-rhymed stanzas as exists in stanzas with varied rhymes, whether based upon crossed rhymes or on rhyming couplets. Three-lined stanzas of the same structure as the four-lined stanzas to be described in the next section were not used before the Modern period. They occur pretty often, and are constructed of widely different kinds of verse; in Drayton’s The Heart (Poets, iii. 580) three-foot lines are used:
In no case is there such a clear boundary between the main parts in these stanzas with a single rhyme as there is in stanzas with varied rhymes, whether they use crossed rhymes or rhyming couplets. Three-lined stanzas that share the same structure as the four-lined stanzas described in the next section were not used before the Modern period. They appear quite often and are made up of a variety of verse types; in Drayton’s The Heart (Poets, iii. 580), three-foot lines are used:
Stanzas of this kind, consisting of three-foot trochaic and dactylic verses, as well as stanzas of four-foot iambic, iambic-anapaestic, trochaic, and dactylic verses, are also met with in the Modern period. Even more popular, however, are those of five-foot iambic verses, as e. g. in Dryden, pp. 393, 400, &c. Stanzas of longer verses, on the other hand, e.g. six-foot dactylic, seven-foot trochaic, iambic, or iambic-anapaestic and eight-foot trochaic verses, occur only occasionally in the more recent poets, e.g. Tennyson, Swinburne, R. Browning, D.G. Rossetti, &c. (cf. Metrik, ii, §§ 303–4).
Stanzas of this type, made up of three-foot trochaic and dactylic verses, as well as stanzas of four-foot iambic, iambic-anapaestic, trochaic, and dactylic verses, can also be found in the Modern period. However, stanzas with five-foot iambic verses are even more popular, such as in Dryden, pp. 393, 400, etc. On the other hand, longer verse stanzas, like six-foot dactylic, seven-foot trochaic, iambic, or iambic-anapaestic and eight-foot trochaic verses, appear only occasionally in more recent poets, such as Tennyson, Swinburne, R. Browning, D.G. Rossetti, etc. (cf. Metrik, ii, §§ 303–4).
Some other Modern English anisometrical stanzas may also be mentioned, as one in Cowley with the formula a5 a4 a5 in Love’s Visibility (Poets, v. 273):
Some other modern English uneven stanzas can also be mentioned, like one in Cowley with the pattern a5 a4 a5 in Love’s Visibility (Poets, v. 273):
For other forms see Metrik, ii, § 305.
For other forms, see Metrik, ii, § 305.
The first begins with these verses, which happen to show a prevailing trochaic rhythm.
The first starts with these verses, which happen to have a dominant trochaic rhythm.
This simple form of stanza is also found in Modern English poetry; apparently, however, only in one of the earliest poets, viz. Wyatt (p. 36).
This simple form of stanza is also found in Modern English poetry; however, it seems to appear only in one of the earliest poets, namely Wyatt (p. 36).
It occurs also in Middle English, consisting of four-stressed, rhyming-alliterative long-lines, as e.g. in Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 237; and of simple four-stressed long lines in Wyatt (p. 147), and Burns (pp. 253, 265, &c.).
It also appears in Middle English, made up of four-stressed, rhyming-alliterative long lines, as seen in Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 237; and simple four-stressed long lines in Wyatt (p. 147), and Burns (pp. 253, 265, &c.).
In Middle English poetry Septenary verses are often used in this way on the Low Latin model (cf. Metrik, i, pp. 90, 91, 370), as well as Septenary-Alexandrine verses, e.g. Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 93:
In Middle English poetry, septenary verses are often utilized like this based on the Low Latin style (see Metrik, i, pp. 90, 91, 370), as well as septenary-Alexandrine verses, for example, Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 93:
In Modern English stanzas of this kind, consisting of Septenary verses, are of rare occurrence. We have an example in Leigh Hunt’s The jovial Priest’s Confession (p. 338), a translation of the well-known poem ascribed to Walter Map, Mihi est propositum in taberna mori (cf. §§ 135, 182).
In modern English, stanzas like these, made up of seven-line verses, are quite rare. We have an example in Leigh Hunt’s The Jovial Priest’s Confession (p. 338), which is a translation of the famous poem attributed to Walter Map, Mihi est propositum in taberna mori (see §§ 135, 182).
Shorter verses, e.g. iambic lines of three measures, are also very rarely used for such stanzas; e.g. in Donne and Denham (Poets, iv. 48 and v. 611)
Shorter verses, like iambic lines of three measures, are also rarely used for such stanzas; for example, in Donne and Denham (Poets, iv. 48 and v. 611)
§ 253. A small group of other stanzas connected with the above may be called indivisible stanzas. They consist of a one-rhymed main part mostly of three, more rarely of two or four lines, followed by a shorter refrain-verse, a cauda, as it were, but in itself too unimportant to lend a bipartite character to the stanza. Otherwise, stanzas like these might be looked upon as bipartite unequal-membered stanzas, with which, indeed, they stand in close relationship. Three-lined stanzas of this kind occur in Modern English only; as e.g. a stanza consisting of an heroic couplet and a two-foot refrain verse of different rhythm: a a5 B2 in Moore’s Song:
§ 253. A small group of other stanzas connected with the above can be called indivisible stanzas. They have a main part with one rhyme, usually made up of three lines, but sometimes two or four lines, followed by a shorter refrain verse, a cauda, that’s too insignificant to make the stanza feel like it has two parts. Otherwise, stanzas like these could be viewed as bipartite, unequal-membered stanzas, with which they are closely related. Three-lined stanzas of this kind appear only in Modern English; for example, a stanza made up of a heroic couplet and a two-foot refrain verse with a different rhythm: a a5 B2 in Moore’s Song:
Other stanzas show the formulas a a5 b3 and a a4 b3. Their structure evidently is analogous to that of a four-lined Middle English stanza a a a4 B3, the model of which we find in Low Latin and Provençal poetry (cf. Metrik, i. 373) and in Furnivall’s Political, Religious, and Love Poems, p. 4:
Other stanzas display the patterns a a5 b3 and a a4 b3. Their structure clearly resembles that of a four-line Middle English stanza a a a4 B3, which we see in Low Latin and Provençal poetry (cf. Metrik, i. 373) and in Furnivall’s Political, Religious, and Love Poems, p. 4:
Similar stanzas occur also in Modern English poets: a a a4 B2 in Wyatt, p. 99, a a a5 B3 in G. Herbert, p. 18, &c. We find others with the formula a a a4 b2 a a a4 b2 in Dunbar’s Inconstancy of Love, and with the formula a a a4 b3 c c c4 b3 d d d4 b3, in Dorset (Poets, vi. 512); there are also stanzas of five lines, e.g. a a a a4 B2 (Wyatt, p. 80).
Similar stanzas can also be found in modern English poets: a a a4 B2 in Wyatt, p. 99, a a a5 B3 in G. Herbert, p. 18, etc. We see others using the pattern a a a4 b2 a a a4 b2 in Dunbar’s Inconstancy of Love, and with the structure a a a4 b3 c c c4 b3 d d d4 b3 in Dorset (Poets, vi. 512); there are also stanzas of five lines, like a a a a4 B2 (Wyatt, p. 80).
An older poem in Ritson’s Anc. Songs, i. 140 (Welcom Yol), has the same metre and form of stanza, but with a refrain verse of two measures and a two-lined refrain prefixed to the first stanza: A B4 a a a4 B2 c c c4 B2. A similar extended stanza is found in Wyatt (p. 108) A3 b b b3 A3 B2; A3 c c c3 A3 B2. There are also in modern poetry similar isometrical stanzas, as in Swinburne (Poems, ii. 108) on the scheme a a a b5, c c c b5, d d d b5, e e e f5, g g g f5, h h h f5; in Campbell (p. 73) a a a b4, c c c b4, d d d b4; and in M. Arnold, The Second Best (p. 49), with feminine endings in the main part of the stanza, a ~ a ~ a ~ b4, c ~ c ~ c ~ b4, d ~ d ~ d ~ b4, &c.
An older poem in Ritson’s Anc. Songs, i. 140 (Welcom Yol), has the same meter and stanza structure, but includes a two-measure refrain and a two-line refrain before the first stanza: A B4 a a a4 B2 c c c4 B2. A similar extended stanza can be found in Wyatt (p. 108) A3 b b b3 A3 B2; A3 c c c3 A3 B2. Modern poetry also features similar isometric stanzas, like in Swinburne (Poems, ii. 108) with the pattern a a a b5, c c c b5, d d d b5, e e e f5, g g g f5, h h h f5; in Campbell (p. 73) a a a b4, c c c b4, d d d b4; and in M. Arnold, The Second Best (p. 49), featuring feminine endings in the main part of the stanza, a ~ a ~ a ~ b4, c ~ c ~ c ~ b4, d ~ d ~ d ~ b4, &c.
II. Bipartite unequal-membered isometrical stanzas.
§ 254. These are of greater number and variety. The shortest of them, however, viz. stanzas of four lines, are found only in Modern English; first of all, stanzas arranged according to the formula a a b a; in this case b can be used as refrain also, as in Sidney, Astrophel and Stella, Song I (Grosart, i. 75):
§ 254. There are more of these that come in various forms. The shortest of them, which are four-line stanzas, only appear in Modern English; firstly, the stanzas follow the pattern a a b a; in this instance, b can also serve as a refrain, as seen in Sidney's Astrophel and Stella, Song I (Grosart, i. 75):
Similar stanzas of four-foot iambic and of two-foot iambic-anapaestic lines occur in Tennyson, The Daisy (p. 270), and in Longfellow, King Olaf and Earl Sigwald (p. 573).
Similar stanzas of four-foot iambic and two-foot iambic-anapaestic lines can be found in Tennyson's The Daisy (p. 270) and in Longfellow's King Olaf and Earl Sigwald (p. 573).
Stanzas with the scheme a b b a also belong to this group, the two halves not being exactly equal, but only similar to each other on account of the unequal arrangement of rhymes.
Stanzas with the pattern a b b a also fit into this category, where the two halves aren't exactly the same, but are only similar to each other due to the uneven arrangement of rhymes.
Such a stanza of four-foot iambic verses occurs in an elegy of Ben Jonson’s (Poets, iv. 571):
Such a stanza of four-foot iambic lines appears in an elegy by Ben Jonson’s (Poets, iv. 571):
and notably in Tennyson’s In Memoriam. Both this stanza and the similar stanza of trochaic verses are found pretty often (cf. Metrik, ii, § 311)
and notably in Tennyson’s In Memoriam. Both this stanza and the similar stanza of trochaic verses are found quite often (cf. Metrik, ii, § 311)
§ 255. More frequently five-lined stanzas occur. One on the scheme a b b a a4, similar to that just mentioned, is used in Sidney, Psalm XXVIII; others, composed in various metres, have a one-rhymed frons or cauda, e.g. a a a b b3 in Wyatt, p. 128, a a b b b4 in Moore (Still when Daylight) and other poets. Of greater importance are some stanzas on the formula a a b a b; they may be looked upon as isometrical tail-rhyme-stanzas, shortened by one chief verse; as a a b a B4, often occurring in Dunbar, e.g. in The Devil’s Inquest, and in Wyatt, p. 29:
§ 255. More often, five-lined stanzas appear. One following the pattern a b b a a4, similar to the one just mentioned, is found in Sidney, Psalm XXVIII; others, written in different meters, have a single-rhyme frons or cauda, like a a a b b3 in Wyatt, p. 128, a a b b b4 in Moore (Still when Daylight) and other poets. More notably, some stanzas use the pattern a a b a b; these can be seen as isometrical tail-rhyme stanzas, shortened by one main line; for example, a a b a B4, frequently appearing in Dunbar, like in The Devil’s Inquest, and in Wyatt, p. 29:
Another form of this stanza, consisting of five-foot lines with refrain, occurs in Swinburne, In an Orchard (Poems, i. 116), and a variety consisting of three-foot verses is found in Drayton’s Ode to Himself (Poets, iii, p. 587). More frequently this stanza is found with the two parts in inverted order (a b a a b4), as in Moore:
Another version of this stanza, made up of five-foot lines with a repeated line, shows up in Swinburne's In an Orchard (Poems, i. 116), and a different version with three-foot verses appears in Drayton’s Ode to Himself (Poets, iii, p. 587). More often, this stanza appears with the two parts in reverse order (a b a a b4), like in Moore:
There are also five-foot iambic and three-foot iambic-anapaestic and other lines connected in this way, as in G. Herbert (p. 82); in Longfellow, Enceladus (p. 595); on the scheme a b c c b3 in Wordsworth, i. 248; and in R. Browning according to the formula a b c c b4 (vi. 77). The allied form of stanza, a a b b a, probably originating by inversion of the two last verses of the former stanza (a a b a b), occurs in Middle English in the poem Of the Cuckoo and the Nightingale.[191]
There are also five-foot iambic and three-foot iambic-anapaestic lines connected this way, as seen in G. Herbert (p. 82); in Longfellow’s Enceladus (p. 595); on the scheme a b c c b3 in Wordsworth, i. 248; and in R. Browning according to the formula a b c c b4 (vi. 77). The related stanza form, a a b b a, likely originating by reversing the last two lines of the earlier stanza (a a b a b), appears in Middle English in the poem Of the Cuckoo and the Nightingale.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
The same stanza, both of four- and five-foot lines, is frequently employed by Dunbar; e.g. On his Heid-Ake, The Visitation of St. Francis, &c. We find it also in modern poets, composed of the same, or of other verses; Moore, e.g., has used it with five-foot iambic-anapaestic lines, in At the mid hour of Night.
The same stanza, featuring both four- and five-foot lines, is often used by Dunbar; for example, in On his Heid-Ake, The Visitation of St. Francis, etc. We also see this structure in contemporary poets, made up of the same or different lines; for instance, Moore has employed it with five-foot iambic-anapaestic lines in At the mid hour of Night.
A stanza on the model a b a b b is a favourite in Modern English; it is formed from the four-lined stanza (a b a b) by repeating the last rhyme. It consists of the most different kinds of verse; an example is Carew’s To my inconstant Mistress (Poets, iii. 678):
A stanza with the pattern a b a b b is popular in Modern English; it is created by taking a four-lined stanza (a b a b) and repeating the last rhyme. It includes various styles of verse; an example is Carew’s To my inconstant Mistress (Poets, iii. 678):
For other specimens in lines of five, three, and four feet see Metrik, ii. 307.
For other examples in lines of five, three, and four feet, see Metrik, ii. 307.
Much less common is the form a b b a b, which occurs e.g. in Coleridge’s Recollections of Love (a b b a b4).
Much less common is the form a b b a b, which appears in Coleridge’s Recollections of Love (a b b a b4).
Five-lined stanzas of crossed rhymes are not very rare; an example of the form a b a b a4 is found in R. Browning’s The Patriot (iv. 149):
Five-lined stanzas with crossed rhymes are not uncommon; an example of the form a b a b a4 can be found in R. Browning’s The Patriot (iv. 149):
For specimens of other forms see Metrik, ii, § 318
For examples of other formats, see Metrik, ii, § 318.
§ 256. The simplest kind of isometrical stanzas of this group is that in which the four-lined one-rhymed stanza is extended by the addition of a couplet with a new rhyme, so that it forms a six-lined stanza. A Latin stanza of this kind consisting of Septenary verses is given in Wright’s Pol. Poems, i. 253, and a Middle English imitation of it, ib. p. 268, in the poem On the Minorite Friars. The same stanza composed of four-stressed verses is used by Minot in his poem Of the batayl of Banocburn (ib. i. 61):
§ 256. The simplest type of isometrical stanzas in this group is one where a four-line stanza with a single rhyme is expanded by adding a couplet with a new rhyme, creating a six-line stanza. A Latin stanza of this kind that consists of Septenary verses can be found in Wright’s Pol. Poems, i. 253, along with a Middle English version of it on p. 268 in the poem On the Minorite Friars. The same stanza made up of four-stressed verses is used by Minot in his poem Of the batayl of Banocburn (ib. i. 61):
Here the frons is connected with the cauda, which recurs in each stanza as a kind of refrain, by means of concatenatio. Two other poems of Minot’s (v, ix) are written in similar stanzas of six and eight lines. In the ten-lined stanza of the poem in Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 25, which is of similar structure, we find the doubling of the frons.
Here the frons is connected to the cauda, which appears in each stanza as a sort of refrain, through concatenatio. Two other poems by Minot (v, ix) are written in similar stanzas of six and eight lines. In the ten-line stanza of the poem in Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 25, which has a similar structure, we see the doubling of the frons.
A six-lined stanza of this kind, which has the formula a a a b B B (B B being refrain-verses), is used by Dunbar in his Gray-Horse poem and in Luve Erdly and Divine. The latter begins:
A six-line stanza like this one, following the pattern a a a b B B (B B being the refrain lines), is used by Dunbar in his Gray-Horse poem and in Luve Erdly and Divine. The latter begins:
The same kind of stanza occurs in Wyatt, p. 137. Other forms are: a a b a b b5, in Wyatt, p. 71; a b c c b a4 in John Scott, Conclusion (Poets, ix. 773); a b c b c a4 in Tennyson, A Character (p. 12):
The same type of stanza appears in Wyatt, p. 137. Other forms include: a a b a b b5, in Wyatt, p. 71; a b c c b a4 in John Scott, Conclusion (Poets, ix. 773); a b c b c a4 in Tennyson, A Character (p. 12):
Longer isometrical stanzas are unfrequent, and need hardly be mentioned here (cf. Metrik, ii, p. 556).
Longer isometric stanzas are rare and don’t really need to be discussed here (see Metrik, ii, p. 556).
III. Bipartite unequal-membered anisometrical stanzas.
These have been mentioned before (§ 207); but as a rule they are used, like the heroic couplet, in continuous systems only, without strophic arrangement.
These have been mentioned before (§ 207); however, generally, they are used, like the heroic couplet, in continuous systems only, without a strophic arrangement.
The Poulter’s Measure (§§ 146, 206) must be mentioned in this place. This metre, also, is in narrative poetry employed without strophic arrangement; but in lyrical poetry it is sometimes written in stanzas. In this case it is mostly printed as a stanza of four lines, even when rhyming in long lines, i.e. with intermittent rhyme (a b3 c4 b3); e.g. in Tennyson, Marriage Morning (p. 285):
The Poulter’s Measure (§§ 146, 206) should be noted here. This meter is used in narrative poetry without a structured arrangement, but in lyrical poetry, it’s often organized in stanzas. In this case, it’s typically formatted as a four-line stanza, even when using longer lines with intermittent rhyme (e.g., a b3 c4 b3); for example, in Tennyson’s Marriage Morning (p. 285):
The division into stanzas is still more distinctly recognizable when there are crossed rhymes (a b3 a4 b3), as e.g. in a song in Percy’s Reliques, I. ii. 2, The Aged Lover renounceth Love (quoted by the grave-digger in Shakespeare’s Hamlet):
The separation into stanzas is even more clearly noticeable when there are crossed rhymes (a b3 a4 b3), like in a song from Percy’s Reliques, I. ii. 2, The Aged Lover renounceth Love (mentioned by the grave-digger in Shakespeare’s Hamlet):
This stanza occurs very frequently (cf. Metrik, ii, § 321), but is rarely formed of trochaic verses.
This stanza appears quite often (see Metrik, ii, § 321), but it's seldom made up of trochaic verses.
Another rare variety on the scheme a ~ b3 c4 b3 is found in Mrs. Hemans, The Stream is free (vii. 42), and in M. Arnold’s The Neckan (p. 167).
Another rare variety in the scheme a ~ b3 c4 b3 can be found in Mrs. Hemans' The Stream is Free (vii. 42) and in M. Arnold’s The Neckan (p. 167).
Similar to the common Poulter’s Measure stanza is another stanza of iambic-anapaestic verses on the formula a a3 b4 a3 (in b middle-rhyme is used, so that the scheme may also be given as a a3 b b2 a3.)We find it in Burns, the a-rhymes being masculine (p. 245) and feminine (p. 218).
Similar to the common Poulter’s Measure stanza, there's another stanza made up of iambic-anapaestic verses with the pattern a a3 b4 a3 (in this, a middle rhyme is used, so the scheme can also be expressed as a a3 b b2 a3.) We see this in Burns, with the a-rhymes being masculine (p. 245) and feminine (p. 218).
Four-lined stanzas of two rhyming couplets of unequal length are fairly common; as e.g. on the model a a5 b b4 in Dryden, Hymn for St. John’s Eve:
Four-line stanzas made up of two rhyming couplets of different lengths are quite common; for example, following the pattern a a5 b b4 in Dryden's Hymn for St. John’s Eve:
Other schemes that occur are a a4 b b5, a a b4 b5, a a b4 b2, a a4 b3 b2, a4 a2 b b4, a5 a3 b b5; there are even forms with lines of unequal length in each part, as e.g.: a4 a5 b7 b5, a7 a4 b2 b6, a5 a3 b5 b4, a5 a4 b4 b6. For examples see Metrik, ii (§§ 322–4).
Other patterns that show up are a a4 b b5, a a b4 b5, a a b4 b2, a a4 b3 b2, a4 a2 b b4, a5 a3 b b5; there are even versions with lines of different lengths in each part, like: a4 a5 b7 b5, a7 a4 b2 b6, a5 a3 b5 b4, a5 a4 b4 b6. For examples see Metrik, ii (§§ 322–4).
Enclosing rhymes are also found; and in this case the lines of the same length usually rhyme together, as in the formula a3 b b5 a3 in Mrs. Hemans, The Song of Night (vi. 94):
Enclosing rhymes are also found; and in this case, lines of the same length usually rhyme together, as in the formula a3 b b5 a3 in Mrs. Hemans, The Song of Night (vi. 94):
Sometimes verses are used partly of unequal length: a3 b5 b3 a4 in M. Arnold, A Nameless Epitaph (p. 232), or a5 b2 b4 a5, a b b4 a3, &c. (cf. Metrik, ii, § 325)
Sometimes verses are used with varying lengths: a3 b5 b3 a4 in M. Arnold, A Nameless Epitaph (p. 232), or a5 b2 b4 a5, a b b4 a3, &c. (cf. Metrik, ii, § 325)
Other forms are a2 b a3 b2, a4 b a5 b4, a5 b a4 b5 (cf. Metrik, ii, § 326).
Other forms are a2 b a3 b2, a4 b a5 b4, a5 b a4 b5 (see Metrik, ii, § 326).
Three isometrical verses and one shorter or longer end-verse can also be so connected, as e.g. on the scheme a b a4 b2 in Pope, Ode on Solitude (p. 45):
Three isometrical verses and one shorter or longer ending verse can also be connected, like in the scheme a b a4 b2 in Pope, Ode on Solitude (p. 45):
or in Cowper on the model a b a4 b5 in Divine Love endures no Rival (p. 418):
or in Cowper on the model a b a4 b5 in Divine Love endures no Rival (p. 418):
Similar stanzas both with this and other arrangements of rhymes (as e. g. a b a5 b3, a b a4 b2, a b a3 b5) are very popular. A specimen of the first of these formulas is found in M. Arnold’s Progress (p. 252), and one of the second in his A Southern Night (p. 294). For other examples see Metrik, ii, §§ 326–7.
Similar stanzas with these and other rhyme arrangements (like a b a5 b3, a b a4 b2, a b a3 b5) are quite popular. A sample of the first of these patterns can be found in M. Arnold’s Progress (p. 252), and one of the second in his A Southern Night (p. 294). For additional examples, see Metrik, ii, §§ 326–7.
More rarely a short verse begins the stanza (e.g. a3 b a b5 in Mrs. Hemans, The Wish, vi. 249), or is placed in the middle on the scheme a5 b2 a b5 (as in G. Herbert, Church Lock and Key, p. 61). For specimens see Metrik, ii, §§ 328, 329.
More rarely, a short verse starts the stanza (e.g. a3 b a b5 in Mrs. Hemans, The Wish, vi. 249), or is placed in the middle following the pattern a5 b2 a b5 (as seen in G. Herbert, Church Lock and Key, p. 61). For examples, see Metrik, ii, §§ 328, 329.
Stanzas of one isometrical and another anisometrical half are not frequently met with; a specimen of the form a b4 a5 b2 is found in G. Herbert’s Employment (p. 51).
Stanzas of one isometrical and another anisometrical half are not frequently met with; a specimen of the form a b4 a5 b2 is found in G. Herbert’s Employment (p. 51).
More common are stanzas of two anisometrical halves; in this case either the two middle or the isolated verses are generally isometrical; e.g. on the scheme a5 b a4 b3 in G. Herbert, The Temper (p. 49):
More often, you’ll find stanzas split into two uneven halves; in this situation, either the two middle lines or the separate lines are usually of equal length. For example, in the structure a5 b a4 b3 found in G. Herbert’s The Temper (p. 49):
or on a4 b3 a4 b5 in Milton, Psalm V (vol. iii, p. 24):
or on a4 b3 a4 b5 in Milton, Psalm V (vol. iii, p. 24):
Stanzas like these are very much in vogue, and may be composed of the most varied forms of verse (cf. Metrik, ii; § 330)
Stanzas like these are really popular right now, and can be made up of many different types of verse (cf. Metrik, ii; § 330)
A similar structure (a a a4 b3 b5) is shown in a stanza of a poem quoted by Ritson, Ancient Songs, i. 129; the poem belongs to the fifteenth century.
A similar structure (a a a4 b3 b5) is shown in a stanza of a poem quoted by Ritson, Ancient Songs, i. 129; the poem belongs to the fifteenth century.
For other stanzas on the formulas a a5 b b4 A3, a5 b b4 a5 a4, a3 b b2 a a3, &c., see Metrik (ii, §§ 332, 333).
For other sections on the formulas a a5 b b4 A3, a5 b b4 a5 a4, a3 b b2 a a3, etc., see Metrik (ii, §§ 332, 333).
In others the chief part of the stanza shows crossed rhyme, as e.g. on the scheme a b a b4 b3 in Poe, To Helen (p. 205):
In some of them, the main part of the stanza displays crossed rhyme, for instance, following the pattern a b a b4 b3 in Poe's To Helen (p. 205):
Other stanzas take the forms a5 b4 a5 b4 b5, a5 b2 a4 b3 b5, a4 b3 a4 b3 b2, &c. More uncommon are such forms as a3 b b5 a4 b5, a b5 b3 a b5, &c. (For specimens see Metrik, ii, § 334.)
Other stanzas take the forms a5 b4 a5 b4 b5, a5 b2 a4 b3 b5, a4 b3 a4 b3 b2, etc. Less common are forms like a3 b b5 a4 b5, a b5 b3 a b5, etc. (For examples see Metrik, ii, § 334.)
Stanzas with crossed rhymes throughout, on the other hand, are very frequent, as e.g. type a b a b4 a3 in R. Browning’s By the Fireside (iii. 170):
Stanzas with crossed rhymes throughout are quite common, like the pattern a b a b4 a3 in R. Browning’s By the Fireside (iii. 170):
There are many other forms, sometimes very complicated, as e.g. a b a b5 a3, a b5 a2 b a6, a3 b a4 b3 a5, &c. (For examples see Metrik, ii, § 335.)
There are many other forms, sometimes quite complex, like a b a b5 a3, a b5 a2 b a6, a3 b a4 b3 a5, etc. (For examples see Metrik, ii, § 335.)
These curtailed forms occur as early as the Middle English period, e.g. in an envoi on the model a a4 b2 a4 b2, forming the conclusion of a poem in six-lined stanzas (a a a4 b2 a4 b2), printed in Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 38.
These shortened forms appeared as early as the Middle English period, for example, in a concluding stanza modeled as a a4 b2 a4 b2, which wraps up a poem in six-line stanzas (a a a4 b2 a4 b2), printed in Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 38.
In Modern English the common form of stanza is much employed, consisting of four- and three-foot verses, a a4 b3 a4 b3; there are many varieties of this scheme, as a a b a4 b3, a5 a b4 a5 b3, a a2 b a4 b3, &c. (cf. Metrik, ii, § 336).
In modern English, the most common type of stanza features four- and three-foot lines, a a4 b3 a4 b3; there are many variations of this pattern, like a a b a4 b3, a5 a b4 a5 b3, a a2 b a4 b3, etc. (see Metrik, ii, § 336).
A similar form, with shortening in the first half-stanza, also occurs in Middle English poetry, though only as an envoi of another form of stanza, viz, in the Towneley Mysteries (pp. 34–323):
A similar structure, with a shortening in the first half-stanza, is also found in Middle English poetry, but only as an envoi of another stanza form, specifically in the Towneley Mysteries (pp. 34–323):
This stanza is also frequently used in Modern English, e.g. by Thomas Moore, Nay, do not weep.
This stanza is also often used in Modern English, for example, by Thomas Moore, Nay, do not weep.
A similar stanza on the model a4 b2 a a4 b2 is used by Moore in Echo (ii. 211):
A similar stanza following the pattern a4 b2 a a4 b2 is used by Moore in Echo (ii. 211):
Stanzas of this kind are also formed with three rhymes, e.g. a b3 c c2 b4, a b3 c c2 b3, a ~ b4 c ~ c ~2 b4, &c. (For specimens cf. Metrik, ii, § 338.)
Stanzas like these are also created with three rhymes, for example, a b3 c c2 b4, a b3 c c2 b3, a ~ b4 c ~ c ~2 b4, and so on. (For examples, see Metrik, ii, § 338.)
Another class of shortened tail-rhyme stanzas, which is deficient not in one of the rhyming couplets, but in one of the tail-verses, comes in here. Omission of the first tail-verse, producing a stanza on the scheme a a b b c, occurs in Wordsworth, The Blind Highland Boy (ii. 368):
Another type of shortened tail-rhyme stanzas, which lacks not one of the rhyming couplets, but one of the tail-verses, comes into play here. The omission of the first tail-verse, creating a stanza with the structure a a b b c, appears in Wordsworth, The Blind Highland Boy (ii. 368):
Another stanza, which is used in Carew’s Love’s Courtship (Poets, iii. 707), is formed on the scheme a a4 b2 c c4, where the tail-verse of the second half-stanza is wanting. As to the other varieties, arising from the use of other metres, cf. Metrik, ii, § 338.
Another stanza, which appears in Carew’s Love’s Courtship (Poets, iii. 707), follows the pattern a a4 b2 c c4, with the final line of the second half-stanza missing. For other variations that come from using different meters, see Metrik, ii, § 338.
Sometimes stanzas of three rhymes occur, rhyming crosswise throughout, and of various forms, e.g. a b a c4 b3 in Longfellow, The Saga of King Olaf (p. 565); a b4 c3 a4 c2 in Coleridge; a b a b5 C3 in Mrs. Hemans (iv. 119); a b a b4 C3 in Moore, Weep, Children of Israel:
Sometimes, there are stanzas with three rhymes that alternate throughout, in various forms, like a b a c4 b3 in Longfellow, The Saga of King Olaf (p. 565); a b4 c3 a4 c2 in Coleridge; a b a b5 C3 in Mrs. Hemans (iv. 119); a b a b4 C3 in Moore, Weep, Children of Israel:
For other varieties see Metrik, ii, § 339
For other varieties, see Metrik, ii, § 339
They occur, on the other hand, very frequently in Modern English, especially with parallel rhymes on the scheme a a a a4 B C2 in The Old and Young Courtier (Percy’s Rel. II. iii. 8):
They happen, on the other hand, very often in Modern English, especially with parallel rhymes in the pattern a a a a4 B C2 in The Old and Young Courtier (Percy’s Rel. II. iii. 8):
For specimens of other stanzas, the rhymes of which are arranged in a similar way (according to a5 a a b b4 b5, or with partly enclosing rhymes, as a5 b b b b3 a5, a a b b b4 a2, a a4 b b b a2, &c.), see Metrik, ii, § 340.
For examples of other stanzas where the rhymes are organized similarly (like a5 a a b b4 b5, or with partially enclosing rhymes, such as a5 b b b b3 a5, a a b b b4 a2, a a4 b b b a2, etc.), see Metrik, ii, § 340.
Forms based upon the tail-rhyme stanza are very popular; of great importance is the entwined form on a Provençal model (cf. Bartsch, Provenzalisches Lesebuch, p. 46) which was imitated in Middle English poetry. It corresponds to the scheme a a a4 b3 a4 b3 and gives the impression, according to Wolf in his book, Über die Lais, &c., p. 230, note 67, that the second part of a common tail-rhyme stanza is inserted into the first, though it is also possible that it may have been formed from the extended tail-rhyme stanza a a a4 b3 a a a4 b3 by shortening the second part by two chief verses. The first stanza of a poem in Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 94, may serve as a specimen:
Forms based on the tail-rhyme stanza are very popular; an important one is the intertwined form modeled after Provençal (see Bartsch, Provenzalisches Lesebuch, p. 46), which was copied in Middle English poetry. It follows the pattern a a a4 b3 a4 b3 and gives the impression, according to Wolf in his book, Über die Lais, &c., p. 230, note 67, that the second part of a common tail-rhyme stanza is inserted into the first. However, it’s also possible that it was created from the extended tail-rhyme stanza a a a4 b3 a a a4 b3 by shortening the second part by two main verses. The first stanza of a poem in Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 94, can serve as an example:
This stanza occurs frequently in the Towneley Mysteries, pp. 120–34, 254–69, &c. In Modern English, however, we find it very seldom; as an example (iambic-anapaestic verses of four and three measures) we may refer to Campbell’s Stanzas on the battle of Navarino (p. 176).
This stanza appears often in the Towneley Mysteries, pp. 120–34, 254–69, etc. In Modern English, though, we see it very rarely; as an example (iambic-anapaestic verses of four and three measures), we can point to Campbell’s Stanzas on the Battle of Navarino (p. 176).
More frequent in Modern English, on the other hand, is a variety of this stanza with two-foot tail-verses on the scheme a a a4 b2 a4 b2; it is especially common in Ramsay and Fergusson, and occurs in several poems of Burns, e.g. in his Scotch Drink (p. 6):
More common in Modern English, on the other hand, is a version of this stanza with two-foot tail verses following the scheme a a a4 b2 a4 b2; it is particularly frequent in Ramsay and Fergusson and appears in several poems by Burns, such as in his Scotch Drink (p. 6):
The same form of stanza is used by Wordsworth and by M. Arnold in his poem Kaiser Dead (p. 495).
The same type of stanza is used by Wordsworth and by M. Arnold in his poem Kaiser Dead (p. 495).
The same stanza sometimes occurs with the order of the parts inverted like a4 b3 a a a4 b3, e.g. in Longfellow’s Voices of the Night (p. 40).
The same stanza sometimes appears with the order of the parts flipped, like a4 b3 a a a4 b3, for example, in Longfellow’s Voices of the Night (p. 40).
Other unequal-membered varieties of the anisometrical tail-rhyme stanza correspond to a a3 b5 a a5 b6 (cf. the chapter on the Spenserian stanza and its imitations), a a b c c4 b3 (M. Arnold, Horatian Echo, p. 47), a a b c c3 b5, a5 a3 b5 c c b5, a4 a2 b4 c2 c5 b4, a4 b3 a c c4 b3 (entwined frons), a a4 b3 c3 b4 c5 (entwined cauda).
Other unevenly structured types of the anisometrical tail-rhyme stanza correspond to a a3 b5 a a5 b6 (see the chapter on the Spenserian stanza and its imitations), a a b c c4 b3 (M. Arnold, Horatian Echo, p. 47), a a b c c3 b5, a5 a3 b5 c c b5, a4 a2 b4 c2 c5 b4, a4 b3 a c c4 b3 (intertwined frons), a a4 b3 c3 b4 c5 (intertwined cauda).
For examples see Metrik, ii, § 343.
For examples, see Metrik, ii, § 343.
Here again we must mention stanzas which in their structure are influenced by the tail-rhyme stanza and are formed on the scheme a b c a b c; of these we have several examples in G. Herbert, on the scheme a b c5 a b4 c5, e.g. in Magdalena (p. 183):
Here again we need to mention stanzas that are influenced by the tail-rhyme stanza and are structured according to the pattern a b c a b c; we have several examples of this in G. Herbert, following the pattern a b c5 a b4 c5, such as in Magdalena (p. 183):
Other stanzas of his correspond to a5 b4 c3 c4 b3 a5, a3 b5 c4 c4 b5 a3, &c. In Moore we have a similar stanza: a b4 c2 b a4 c2 which is unequal-membered on account of the arrangement of rhyme (cf. Metrik, ii, § 344). An unusual form of stanza, which may also be classed under this head, occurs in M. Arnold’s Human Life (p. 40), its formula being a3 b4 c a c b5.
Other stanzas of his match a5 b4 c3 c4 b3 a5, a3 b5 c4 c4 b5 a3, &c. In Moore, we see a similar stanza: a b4 c2 b a4 c2, which is uneven due to the rhyme arrangement (cf. Metrik, ii, § 344). A unique stanza, which can also be categorized under this type, appears in M. Arnold’s Human Life (p. 40), following the pattern a3 b4 c a c b5.
§ 262. A stanza of seven lines is used in Dunbar’s poem The Merchants of Edinborough, formed on the scheme a a a b4 B2 a4 B4; it is very interesting on account of the duplication of the refrain-verses (B2, B4). Apart from the first short refrain-verse the arrangement of rhymes is the same as it is in the entwined tail-rhyme stanza:
§ 262. A stanza of seven lines is used in Dunbar’s poem The Merchants of Edinborough, following the pattern a a a b4 B2 a4 B4; it is quite interesting because of the repeated refrain verses (B2, B4). Besides the first short refrain verse, the rhyme scheme is the same as in the intertwined tail-rhyme stanza:
The Modern English stanzas also mostly bear a greater or less resemblance to the tail-rhyme stanza. This relationship is evident in a stanza like a a4 b3 c c c4 b3, used in Wordsworth, To the Daisy (iii. 42):
The Modern English stanzas usually have a significant resemblance to the tail-rhyme stanza. This connection is clear in a stanza like a a4 b3 c c c4 b3, found in Wordsworth's To the Daisy (iii. 42):
A peculiar form of stanza occurring in M. Arnold’s In Utrumque Paratus (p. 45) with the formula a5 b3 a c b c5 b3 likewise belongs to this group.
A unique type of stanza found in M. Arnold’s In Utrumque Paratus (p. 45) with the structure a5 b3 a c b c5 b3 also fits into this category.
In other instances the longer part comes first on the model a a a4 b3 c c4 b3, e.g. in Mrs. Hemans, The Sun (iv. 251).
In some cases, the longer section appears first in the pattern a a a4 b3 c c4 b3, for example, in Mrs. Hemans, The Sun (iv. 251).
Other stanzas correspond to a a3 b2 c c c3 B2 and a a a b c c2 b3.
Other stanzas match a a3 b2 c c c3 B2 and a a a b c c2 b3.
In other cases the equal-membered tail-rhyme stanza becomes unequal-membered by adding to the second tail-verse another verse rhyming with it, the formula being then a a4 B2 a a4 b B2 (e.g. in Longfellow, Victor Galbraith, p. 503) or a a2 b4 c c2 b4 B3 (in Moore, Little man), or a a3 b2 c ~ c ~ b b3 (id., The Pilgrim).
In some cases, the equal-membered tail-rhyme stanza becomes unequal-membered by adding another verse that rhymes with the second tail-verse. The pattern is then a a4 B2 a a4 b B2 (e.g., in Longfellow, Victor Galbraith, p. 503) or a a2 b4 c c2 b4 B3 (in Moore, Little man), or a a3 b2 c ~ c ~ b b3 (id., The Pilgrim).
Less closely allied to the tail-rhyme stanza are the forms which are similar to it only in one half-strophe, e.g. those on the model a4 b2 a b c c4 b2 (Shelley, To Night, iii. 62), a b3 c c2 a a4 b3 (id. Lines, iii. 86), a b b4 r2 a R4 r2 (Tennyson, A Dirge, p. 16). For other examples see Metrik, ii, § 347
Less closely related to the tail-rhyme stanza are the forms that are similar to it in just one half-strophe, for example those structured like a4 b2 a b c c4 b2 (Shelley, To Night, iii. 62), a b3 c c2 a a4 b3 (id. Lines, iii. 86), a b b4 r2 a R4 r2 (Tennyson, A Dirge, p. 16). For more examples see Metrik, ii, § 347.
A stanza used by Wordsworth in Stray Pleasures (iv. 12) corresponds to a a2 b3 c c d d2 b3.
A stanza used by Wordsworth in Stray Pleasures (iv. 12) corresponds to a a2 b3 c c d d2 b3.
Two stanzas used by M. Arnold correspond to the formulas a a2 b2 c5 d4 c3 d4 b2 (a a printed as one line) in A Question (p. 44), and a a3 b5 c c3 d b d3 in The World and the Quietist (p. 46).
Two stanzas used by M. Arnold match the patterns a a2 b2 c5 d4 c3 d4 b2 (a a printed as one line) in A Question (p. 44), and a a3 b5 c c3 d b d3 in The World and the Quietist (p. 46).
A stanza of nine lines is found in Tennyson’s Lady of Shalott (p. 28); it is on the scheme a a a a b c c c4 b; one of ten lines in his Greeting to the Duchess of Edinburgh (p. 261) on the model a b b a5 C2 d e e d5 C3 (cf. Metrik, ii, § 349).
A stanza of nine lines can be found in Tennyson’s Lady of Shalott (p. 28); it follows the pattern a a a a b c c c4 b; and there’s also one of ten lines in his Greeting to the Duchess of Edinburgh (p. 261) that uses the structure a b b a5 C2 d e e d5 C3 (see Metrik, ii, § 349).
Other stanzas of this kind are related to the Septenary or the Poulter’s Measure, e.g. those on the schemes a4 b3 a b c d c4 d3, a b a4 b3 c d3 c4 d3, and a b2 a4 b2 c3 d2 c4 d2, examples of which, from Moore, are given in Metrik, ii, § 348.
Other stanzas like this are connected to the Septenary or the Poulter’s Measure, such as those with the patterns a4 b3 a b c d c4 d3, a b a4 b3 c d3 c4 d3, and a b2 a4 b2 c3 d2 c4 d2. Examples of these, from Moore, are provided in Metrik, ii, § 348.
Stanzas of eleven and twelve lines are rare. For examples see Metrik, ii, § 350.
Stanzas of eleven and twelve lines are uncommon. For examples, see Metrik, ii, § 350.
§ 264. The bob-wheel stanzas. This important class of bipartite unequal-membered anisometrical stanzas was very much in vogue in the Middle English period. They consist (see § 222) of a frons (longer verses of four stresses, or Septenary and Alexandrine verses) and a cauda, which is formed of shorter verses and is joined to the frons by one or several ‘bob-verses’, belonging generally to the first part or ‘upsong’ (in German Aufgesang).
§ 264. The bob-wheel stanzas. This important type of bipartite, uneven stanzas was very popular during the Middle English period. They consist (see § 222) of a frons (longer lines with four stresses, or Septenary and Alexandrine lines) and a cauda, which is made up of shorter lines and is connected to the frons by one or more 'bob-verses,' typically belonging to the first part or 'upsong' (in German Aufgesang).
Sometimes it is doubtful whether these stanzas belong to the bipartite or to the tripartite class, on account of the variety of rhymes in the frons. But as they mostly consist of two quite unequal parts, they certainly stand in a closer relationship to the bipartite stanzas.
Sometimes it's unclear whether these stanzas belong to the bipartite or tripartite category due to the different rhymes in the frons. However, since they mostly consist of two unequal parts, they definitely relate more closely to the bipartite stanzas.
A simple stanza of this kind on the scheme A A7 C1 B7 occurs in William of Shoreham (printed in short lines on the model A4 B3 C4 B3 d1 E4 D3):
A straightforward stanza of this type following the pattern A A7 C1 B7 appears in William of Shoreham (formatted in short lines according to the model A4 B3 C4 B3 d1 E4 D3):
A six-lined stanza of Alexandrines and Septenaries on the scheme A A B B6 c1 C6 is found in the poem On the evil Times of Edward II (Wright’s Polit. Songs, p. 323). Another variety originated by the breaking up of the longer verses into short ones by inserted rhyme, as in the closing stanzas of a poem by Minot (ed. Hall, p. 17) according to the formula A B A B A B A B3 c1 A C3; cf. the last stanza:
A six-line stanza made up of Alexandrines and Septenaries with the pattern A A B B6 c1 C6 appears in the poem On the evil Times of Edward II (Wright’s Polit. Songs, p. 323). Another version came about when the longer verses were split into shorter ones with added rhyme, as seen in the final stanzas of a poem by Minot (ed. Hall, p. 17) following the structure A B A B A B A B3 c1 A C3; see the last stanza:
A similar form of stanza (A B A B A B A B3 c1 B C3) is used in the Romance of Sir Tristrem; that of the Scottish poem Christ’s Kirk on the Green, however, is formed on the model A4 B3 A4 B3 A4 B3 b1 B4
A similar type of stanza (A B A B A B A B3 c1 B C3) is used in the Romance of Sir Tristrem; however, the Scottish poem Christ’s Kirk on the Green is structured based on the model A4 B3 A4 B3 A4 B3 b1 B4
Under this head comes a poem in Wright’s Polit. Songs, p. 69 (cf. § 60), on the scheme A A A A4 B3 c1 C3 B4, or rather A A A A4 b2 c1 c2 B4, the bob-verse being thus inserted in the cauda. The common form comes out more clearly in another poem, ibid., p. 212 (st. 1, quoted pp. 100–1), corresponding to A A A A4 b1 c c2 b2, where A A A A4 are verses of four stresses, b a one-stressed bob-verse or the half-verse of a long line, c c2 b2 half-verses of two stresses. The Tournament of Tottenham (Ritson’s Anc. Songs, i. 85–9) is written in a similar form of stanza with the formula A A A A4 b c c c b2; the cauda consisting of five verses with two stresses only.
Under this section, there's a poem in Wright’s Polit. Songs, p. 69 (see § 60), following the pattern A A A A4 B3 c1 C3 B4, or more accurately A A A A4 b2 c1 c2 B4, with the bob-verse inserted in the cauda. The usual form is clearer in another poem, ibid., p. 212 (st. 1, quoted pp. 100–1), which matches A A A A4 b1 c c2 b2, where A A A A4 consists of four-stress lines, b a is a one-stress bob-verse or half of a long line, and c c2 b2 are half-lines with two stresses each. The Tournament of Tottenham (Ritson’s Anc. Songs, i. 85–9) uses a similar stanza form with the structure A A A A4 b c c c b2; the cauda has five lines, each with only two stresses.
This form of stanza is further developed by connecting the halves of the long lines with each other by the insertion of rhymes in the same way as in the stanzas of isometrical verses. An example may be seen in Wright’s Polit. Songs, p. 153, the scheme being A A A A4 b b1 b2 or A A A A4 b1 b2 b4 (or, with the longer lines broken up, A B A B A B A B2 c c1 c2, or A B A B A B A B2 c1 c2 C4, &c.).
This type of stanza is further developed by linking the halves of the long lines together with rhymes, just like in the stanzas of isometrical verses. An example can be found in Wright’s Polit. Songs, p. 153, with the scheme being A A A A4 b b1 b2 or A A A A4 b1 b2 b4 (or, with the longer lines divided, A B A B A B A B2 c c1 c2, or A B A B A B A B2 c1 c2 C4, etc.).
Similar stanzas, especially those on the model A A A A4 b1 c c c2 b2 (A B A B A B A B2 c1 d d d2 c2) were much used in the mystery plays, as e.g. in the Towneley Mysteries (pp. 20–34), even when in the dialogue the single lines are divided between different speakers (cf. Metrik, i, pp. 390–1).
Similar stanzas, especially those following the pattern A A A A4 b1 c c c2 b2 (A B A B A B A B2 c1 d d d2 c2) were commonly used in the mystery plays, such as in the Towneley Mysteries (pp. 20–34), even when the dialogue has individual lines spoken by different characters (cf. Metrik, i, pp. 390–1).
The four-stressed long lines sometimes alternate with Alexandrine and Septenary verses. In these plays stanzas of an eight-lined frons consisting of long verses, rhyming crosswise and corresponding to A B A B A B A B4 c1 d d d2 c2 are also common:
The four-stressed long lines sometimes switch with Alexandrine and Septenary verses. In these plays, stanzas of eight lines made up of long verses, rhyming alternately and following the pattern A B A B A B A B4 c1 d d d2 c2, are also common:
Other stanzas, the first cauda-verse of which has four beats (on the scheme A B A B A B A B C4 d d d c2), were also very much in vogue. Stanzas of this kind occur in the poems Golagros and Gawane, The Buke of the Howlat, Rauf Coilȝear, and The Awntyrs of Arthure at the Terne Wathelyne (S. T. S. vol. 28; cf. § 61). An interesting variety of the common form (with a five-lined cauda) we have in the poem Of sayne John the Euangelist (E. E. T. S., 26, p. 87). The stanza consists of an eight-lined frons of crossed rhymes and a cauda formed by a six-lined tail-rhyme stanza[192] of two-beat verses, on the scheme A B A B A B A B4 c c d c c d2.
Other stanzas, the first cauda-verse of which has four beats (following the pattern A B A B A B A B C4 d d d c2), were also quite popular. Stanzas like this appear in the poems Golagros and Gawane, The Buke of the Howlat, Rauf Coilȝear, and The Awntyrs of Arthure at the Terne Wathelyne (S. T. S. vol. 28; cf. § 61). A fascinating variation of the common form (with a five-lined cauda) can be found in the poem Of sayne John the Euangelist (E. E. T. S., 26, p. 87). This stanza consists of an eight-lined frons with crossed rhymes and a cauda made up of a six-lined tail-rhyme stanza[192] of two-beat verses, following the scheme A B A B A B A B4 c c d c c d2.
As to the rhythmical structure of the half-verses used in the cauda of the stanza cf. the explanations given in § 64.
As for the rhythmic structure of the half-verses used in the cauda of the stanza, see the explanations provided in § 64.
§ 266. The bob-wheel stanzas[193] were preserved in the North in Scottish poetry (e.g. Alex. Montgomerie) up to the Modern English period.[194] It is not unlikely that they found their way from this source into Modern English poetry, where they are also met with, though they have not attained any marked popularity.
§ 266. The bob-wheel stanzas[193] were kept alive in the North through Scottish poetry (e.g. Alex. Montgomerie) until the Modern English period.[194] It's quite possible that they made their way from this source into Modern English poetry, where they also appear, although they haven't gained significant popularity.
It must, however, be kept in mind that the Modern English bob-wheel stanzas are not a direct imitation of the Middle English. Sometimes they were influenced probably by the odes, as there is a marked likeness between these two forms, e.g. in two stanzas of Donne (Poets, iv. 24 and 39) on the schemes A B A B C C4 d d1 D4 and A2 A5 B4 C C5 B4 d1 D E E5; or in a stanza of Ben Jonson in an ode to Wm. Sidney (Poets, iv. 558) on the model A5 B4 c c1 B3 a d d e2 E5, and in another in The Dream (iv. 566), A A4 B3 C C4 A5 A4 B3 b1 D D3 E E4 B5.
It should be noted that the Modern English bob-wheel stanzas are not a direct imitation of the Middle English. They were likely influenced by the odes, as there is a clear similarity between these two forms. For example, in two stanzas of Donne (Poets, iv. 24 and 39) based on the patterns A B A B C C4 d d1 D4 and A2 A5 B4 C C5 B4 d1 D E E5; or in a stanza by Ben Jonson in an ode to Wm. Sidney (Poets, iv. 558) following the model A5 B4 c c1 B3 a d d e2 E5, and in another one in The Dream (iv. 566), A A4 B3 C C4 A5 A4 B3 b1 D D3 E E4 B5.
In this and other cases they consist of even-measured, seldom of four-stressed verses, as e.g. in Suckling, who seems to have been very fond of these forms of stanza; cf. the following stanza on the model A A4 B3 c c1 b2 (Poets, iii. 736):
In this and other instances, they consist of evenly measured verses, rarely with four stresses, like in Suckling, who seemed to really enjoy these types of stanzas; see the following stanza modeled as A A4 B3 c c1 b2 (Poets, iii. 736):
Other bob-wheel stanzas in Suckling show the schemes A A4 a2 b b3 (ib. iii. 740), A A A4 B B5 c2 c1 C D4 d2 (ib. iii. 729), A A B B4 c1 c d2 D5 (ib. 739).
Other bob-wheel stanzas in Suckling show the schemes A A4 a2 b b3 (ib. iii. 740), A A A4 B B5 c2 c1 C D4 d2 (ib. iii. 729), A A B B4 c1 c d2 D5 (ib. 739).
More similar to the older forms is a stanza of a song in Dryden formed after A A B B C4 d d e e2 e3 (p. 339).
More similar to the older forms is a stanza of a song in Dryden structured after A A B B C4 d d e e2 e3 (p. 339).
In Modern poetry such stanzas are used especially by Burns, Scott, and sometimes by Moore. So we have in Burns a fine simple stanza on the model A4 B3 A4 B3 c1 B3, similar to the Shoreham stanza (cf. § 264):
In modern poetry, stanzas like these are especially used by Burns, Scott, and occasionally by Moore. For example, in Burns, there’s a nice, simple stanza modeled as A4 B3 A4 B3 c1 B3, similar to the Shoreham stanza (cf. § 264):
Similar stanzas occur in Moore on the formula A4 B3 A4 B3 a1 B3 in Then fare thee well, on A4 B ~3 A4 B ~3 c1 B ~3 in Dear Fanny. Other stanzas by the same poet have a somewhat longer cauda, as A4 B ~3 A4 B ~3 c ~ c ~ d ~ d ~1 A4 C ~3 or A B ~ A B ~ C ~ C ~4 d d2 E F ~ E F ~4.
Similar stanzas appear in Moore following the pattern A4 B3 A4 B3 a1 B3 in Then fare thee well, and A4 B ~3 A4 B ~3 c1 B ~3 in Dear Fanny. Other stanzas by the same poet have a slightly longer cauda, such as A4 B ~3 A4 B ~3 c ~ c ~ d ~ d ~1 A4 C ~3 or A B ~ A B ~ C ~ C ~4 d d2 E F ~ E F ~4.
A stanza used by Sir Walter Scott in To the Sub-Prior (p. 461) is formed on the model A A B B4 c1 c2 C4, the frons consisting of four-stressed verses:
A stanza used by Sir Walter Scott in To the Sub-Prior (p. 461) follows the pattern A A B B4 c1 c2 C4, with the frons made up of four-stressed lines:
Most of these stanzas admit of being looked upon as tripartite on account of the bipartite structure of the frons.
Most of these stanzas can be seen as tripartite because of the bipartite structure of the frons.
Other stanzas may be viewed as consisting of three unequal parts (if not regarded as bipartite); such, for instance, is the stanza on the scheme (a) ~ A ~ (b) ~ B ~4 c1 (d) D4 b ~1 e e e c c2 C4 occurring in Shelley’s Autumn, A Dirge (iii. 65), where the symbols (a)and (b) denote middle rhymes.
Other stanzas can be seen as made up of three unequal parts (if not considered bipartite); for example, the stanza using the pattern (a) ~ A ~ (b) ~ B ~4 c1 (d) D4 b ~1 e e e c c2 C4 found in Shelley’s Autumn, A Dirge (iii. 65), where the symbols (a) and (b) represent middle rhymes.
Stanzas of this kind are met with also in modern poetry, as e.g. in Thackeray, Mrs. Browning, and Rossetti (cf. Metrik, ii, §§ 353, 354).
Stanzas like these can also be found in modern poetry, such as in Thackeray, Mrs. Browning, and Rossetti (see Metrik, ii, §§ 353, 354).
CHAPTER V
Three-part stanzas
I. Isometrical stanzas.
§ 267. In the anisometrical stanzas (which might, as being the older species, have been treated of first) the distinction between the first and the last part of the stanza (frons and cauda) is marked as a rule by a difference of metre in them; in isometrical stanzas, on the other hand, the distinction between the two parts depends solely on the arrangement of the rhyme. For this reason certain six-lined stanzas consisting of two equal parts and a third of the same structure (the formula being a a b b c c4 or the like), which now and then occur in the Surtees Psalter (e.g. Ps. xliv, st. 5), cannot strictly be called tripartite.
§ 267. In the uneven stanzas (which might have been addressed first since they are an older form), the difference between the beginning and the end of the stanza (frons and cauda) is usually indicated by a change in meter; in even stanzas, however, the distinction between the two parts relies solely on how the rhyme is arranged. For this reason, certain six-line stanzas that consist of two equal parts and a third part with the same structure (the pattern being a a b b c c4 or similar), which occasionally appear in the Surtees Psalter (e.g., Ps. xliv, st. 5), cannot be strictly classified as tripartite.
Stanzas like these are, however, not unfrequent in Modern English poetry, as e.g. in a song of Carew’s (Poets, iii. 292):
Stanzas like these are, however, not uncommon in modern English poetry, as seen in a song by Carew’s (Poets, iii. 292):
For an account of many other stanzas of the same or similar structure (consisting of trochaic four-foot lines, iambic-anapaestic lines of four stresses, or lines of five, six, and seven measures), see Metrik, ii, §§ 355, 356.
For details on many other stanzas with the same or similar structure (made up of trochaic four-foot lines, iambic-anapaestic lines of four stresses, or lines with five, six, and seven measures), see Metrik, ii, §§ 355, 356.
It is only rarely that we find stanzas formed on the scheme a a a a b b (e.g. in the Surtees Psalter, xlix. 21; in Ben Jonson, Poets, iv. 574); or on the formula a a b b a b4, as in Swinburne, Poems, i. 248.
It’s quite uncommon to come across stanzas that follow the pattern a a a a b b (for example, in the Surtees Psalter, xlix. 21; in Ben Jonson, Poets, iv. 574); or the structure a a b b a b4, as seen in Swinburne, Poems, i. 248.
One form, analogous to the stanza first mentioned in this section and used pretty often in Modern English, has crossed rhymes a b a b a b. It occurs with four-foot verses in Byron, She walks in Beauty:
One form, similar to the stanza mentioned earlier in this section and commonly used in Modern English, features crossed rhymes a b a b a b. It appears in four-foot verses in Byron's She walks in Beauty:
The same stanza of trochaic or iambic-anapaestic metres of three or five measures is also frequently met with (cf. Metrik, ii, § 358).
The same stanza of trochaic or iambic-anapaestic meters of three or five measures is also commonly found (cf. Metrik, ii, § 358).
The tripartite character of a strophe appears somewhat more distinctly in stanzas formed on the scheme a b a b b b, or a b a b b x (cf. Metrik, ii, §359).
The three-part structure of a strophe is more clearly seen in stanzas following the pattern a b a b b b, or a b a b b x (see Metrik, ii, §359).
The only stanzas, however, that are in the strictest sense to be regarded as tripartite are those in which the first and the last part are clearly distinguished by the arrangement of rhymes, as e.g. in the type a b a b c c. This stanza is very popular in Modern English poetry; in the Middle English period, however, we find it very rarely used, as e.g. in the Coventry Mysteries, p. 315.
The only stanzas that should really be seen as tripartite are the ones where the first and last parts are clearly set apart by the arrangement of rhymes, like in the pattern a b a b c c. This stanza is quite popular in modern English poetry; however, during the Middle English period, we see it used very infrequently, as in the Coventry Mysteries, p. 315.
In Modern English it occurs e.g. in Surrey, A Prayse of his Love (p. 31):
In modern English, it appears, for example, in Surrey, A Praise of his Love (p. 31):
This form of stanza is used with lines of the same metres by many other poets, e.g. by M. Arnold, pp. 195, 197, 256, 318. Similar stanzas of four-foot trochaic (cf. p. 285), or of four-stressed verses, and especially of five-foot verses, are very popular. They are found e.g. in Shakespeare’s Venus and Adonis, M. Arnold’s Mycerinus (first part, p. 8), &c. (cf. Metrik, ii, §§ 360, 361).
This type of stanza is used with lines of the same meter by many other poets, such as M. Arnold, pp. 195, 197, 256, 318. Similar stanzas of four-foot trochaic (see p. 285), or of four-stressed verses, and especially of five-foot verses, are very popular. They can be found in works like Shakespeare’s Venus and Adonis, M. Arnold’s Mycerinus (first part, p. 8), etc. (see Metrik, ii, §§ 360, 361).
§ 268. Still more popular than the six-lined stanzas, both in the Middle and in the Modern English periods, are those of seven lines, which are modelled on Old French lyric poetry, the prevailing type being that of an Old French ballade-stanza, viz. a b a b b c c. But it is not before the middle of the fifteenth century that we meet with an example of this stanza consisting of four-foot verses, viz. in Lydgate’s Minor Poems (Percy Society, 1840), p. 129; a specimen of four-stressed verses occurs in the Chester Plays, pp. 1–7 and pp. 156–8. We may, however, take it for granted that this form of stanza was known long before that time, since four-foot verses were used much earlier than those of five feet, and a six-lined stanza of five-foot verses occurs (for the first time, so far as we know) as early as in Chaucer’s Compleynte of the Dethe of Pite, and subsequently in many other of his poems (e.g. Troylus and Cryseyde, The Assembly of Fowles, The Clerkes Tale) and in numerous other poems of his successors, e.g. in The Kingis Quair by King James I of Scotland. It has been sometimes maintained that this stanza was called rhyme royal stanza because that royal poet wrote his well-known poem in it; this, however, is not so. Guest long ago pointed out (ii. 359) that this name is to be derived from the French term chant-royal, applied to certain poems of similar stanzas which were composed in praise of God or the Virgin, and used to be recited in the poetical contests at Rouen on the occasion of the election of a ‘king’. Chaucer’s verses to Adam Scrivener are of this form and may be quoted as a specimen here (after Skeat’s text, p. 118):
§ 268. Even more popular than the six-line stanzas, both during the Middle and Modern English periods, are the ones with seven lines, which are based on Old French lyric poetry, the main type being that of an Old French ballade-stanza, namely a b a b b c c. However, we only find an example of this stanza made up of four-foot verses in the middle of the fifteenth century, specifically in Lydgate’s Minor Poems (Percy Society, 1840), p. 129; a sample of four-stressed verses is found in the Chester Plays, pp. 1–7 and pp. 156–8. Nonetheless, we can reasonably assume that this stanza form was known long before that time, as four-foot verses were used much earlier than five-foot verses. A six-line stanza of five-foot verses appears (for the first time, as far as we know) in Chaucer’s Compleynte of the Dethe of Pite, and later in many of his other works (e.g. Troylus and Cryseyde, The Assembly of Fowles, The Clerkes Tale) and in numerous poems by his successors, such as The Kingis Quair by King James I of Scotland. It has sometimes been argued that this stanza was called rhyme royal because that royal poet wrote his famous poem in this form; however, this is not accurate. Guest pointed out long ago (ii. 359) that this name comes from the French term chant-royal, which referred to certain poems with similar stanzas that were composed in praise of God or the Virgin and were recited in poetic contests at Rouen during the election of a ‘king’. Chaucer’s verses to Adam Scrivener are of this form and can serve as an example here (after Skeat’s text, p. 118):
In Modern English this beautiful stanza was very popular up to the end of the sixteenth century; Shakespeare, e.g., wrote his Lucrece in it; afterwards, however, it unfortunately fell almost entirely out of use (cf. Metrik, ii, § 364).
In contemporary English, this beautiful stanza was very popular until the end of the sixteenth century; Shakespeare, for example, wrote his Lucrece in it. However, afterwards, it unfortunately fell almost completely out of use (cf. Metrik, ii, § 364).
The same form of stanza, composed of two-, three-, or four-foot verses also occurs almost exclusively in the Early Modern English period (cf. ib., § 363).
The same stanza format, made up of two-, three-, or four-foot lines, also appears almost exclusively in the Early Modern English period (cf. ib., § 363).
Some varieties of this stanza, mostly formed of three-, four-, and five-foot verses, correspond to the schemes a b a b c c b4 (e.g. in Akenside, Book I, Ode iii), a b a b c b c5 (Spenser, Daphnaïda, p. 542), a b a b c b c2 (R. Browning, vi. 41). Other stanzas of seven lines are a b a b c c a4, a a b b c c a4, a a b b a c c4, a b a b C d C3, a a b b c c c4, a b a b c c c4, a b a b c c c5, a b a c c d d5 (for specimens see Metrik, ii, §§ 365, 366).
Some variations of this stanza, mainly made up of three-, four-, and five-foot lines, match the patterns a b a b c c b4 (e.g. in Akenside, Book I, Ode iii), a b a b c b c5 (Spenser, Daphnaïda, p. 542), a b a b c b c2 (R. Browning, vi. 41). Other stanzas of seven lines include a b a b c c a4, a a b b c c a4, a a b b a c c4, a b a b C d C3, a a b b c c c4, a b a b c c c4, a b a b c c c5, a b a c c d d5 (for examples, see Metrik, ii, §§ 365, 366).
The scheme a b a b b a b a, formed from the simple equal-membered stanza of eight lines a b a b a b a b, it would seem, by inversion of the last two couplets, is rare in Middle English. We find it in the Digby Plays, consisting of four-foot verses. In Modern English, too, it is not very common; we have an example in Wyatt, e.g. pp. 118, 135, and another in the same poet, formed of five-foot verses (a b a b b a b a5), p. 135.
The pattern a b a b b a b a, created by reversing the last two couplets of the simple eight-line stanza a b a b a b a b, is uncommon in Middle English. We see it in the Digby Plays, which consist of four-foot lines. It’s also not very common in Modern English; there's an example in Wyatt, for instance, on pages 118 and 135, and another from the same poet using five-foot lines (a b a b b a b a5), on page 135.
Much more in favour in the Middle as well as in the Modern English period is the typical form of the eight-lined stanza, corresponding to the scheme a b a b b c b c. It is formed from the preceding stanza by the introduction of a new rhyme in the sixth and eighth verses, and it had its model likewise in a popular ballade-stanza of Old French lyrical poetry.
Much more popular in both the Middle and Modern English periods is the typical eight-line stanza, which follows the pattern a b a b b c b c. It is created from the previous stanza by adding a new rhyme in the sixth and eighth lines, and it was also inspired by a popular ballade stanza from Old French lyrical poetry.
In Middle English poetry this stanza is very common, consisting either of four-stressed verses (e.g. in The Lyfe of Joseph of Arimathia, E. E. T. S., vol. 44, and On the death of the Duke of Suffolk, Wright’s Polit. Poems, ii. 232) or of four-foot or five-foot verses. As an example of the form consisting of four-foot verses we may quote a stanza from Wright’s Polit. Songs, p. 246:
In Middle English poetry, this stanza is quite common, made up of either four-stressed lines (for example, in The Lyfe of Joseph of Arimathia, E. E. T. S., vol. 44, and On the death of the Duke of Suffolk, Wright’s Polit. Poems, ii. 232) or four-foot or five-foot lines. As an example of the form with four-foot lines, we can quote a stanza from Wright’s Polit. Songs, p. 246:
Many other examples occur in later poetry, e.g. in Minot, Lydgate, Dunbar, Lyndesay, in Wyatt, p. 119, Burns, p. 59, Walter Scott, p. 160, &c.
Many other examples appear in later poetry, such as in Minot, Lydgate, Dunbar, Lyndesay, in Wyatt, p. 119, Burns, p. 59, Walter Scott, p. 160, &c.
Similar stanzas of two-stressed and three-foot verses are only of rare occurrence; we find them e.g. in Percy’s Rel. II. ii. 3; Wyatt, p. 41.
Similar stanzas of two-stressed and three-foot verses are only rarely found; we see them, for example, in Percy’s Rel. II. ii. 3; Wyatt, p. 41.
Chaucer uses the same stanza in some other minor poems, and also in The Monkes Tale; besides this we find it often in Lydgate, Dunbar, Kennedy; more rarely in Modern English poetry; e.g. in Spenser’s Shepheard’s Cal., Ecl. XI, S. Daniel’s Cleopatra, &c.
Chaucer uses the same stanza in some other minor poems, and also in The Monkes Tale; besides this we find it often in Lydgate, Dunbar, Kennedy; more rarely in Modern English poetry; e.g. in Spenser’s Shepheard’s Cal., Ecl. XI, S. Daniel’s Cleopatra, &c.
Now and then some other eight-lined stanzas occur, e.g. one with the formula a b a b b c c bin Chaucer’s Complaynt of Venus, and in the Flyting by Dunbar and Kennedy. The scheme a a b b c d c d is used in a love-song (Rel. Ant. i. 70–4). In the Modern English period we have stanzas on the schemes a ~ b a ~ b c c d ~ d ~4 (in Sidney, Psalm XLIII), a b a b c c c b4 (Scott, Helvellyn, p. 472), a ~ b a ~ b c ~ c ~ d ~ d ~2 (Moore); cf. Metrik, ii, §§ 369–71.
Now and then, some other eight-line stanzas pop up, like the one with the pattern a b a b b c c b in Chaucer’s Complaynt of Venus, and in the Flyting by Dunbar and Kennedy. The pattern a a b b c d c d is found in a love song (Rel. Ant. i. 70–4). In the Modern English period, we find stanzas with the patterns a ~ b a ~ b c c d ~ d ~4 (in Sidney, Psalm XLIII), a b a b c c c b4 (Scott, Helvellyn, p. 472), a ~ b a ~ b c ~ c ~ d ~ d ~2 (Moore); cf. Metrik, ii, §§ 369–71.
There are also eight-lined stanzas formed by combination with tail-rhyme stanzas, as a a b a a b c c4, a a b c c d d b4, but they are not frequent; a stanza corresponding to the formula a a b a a b c c4 we have in Spenser, Epigram III (p. 586); and the variety a a b c c d d b4 (the cauda being enclosed by the pedes) occurs in Moore.
There are also eight-line stanzas created by combining tail-rhyme stanzas, like a a b a a b c c4 and a a b c c d d b4, but they aren't common; a stanza that fits the pattern a a b a a b c c4 appears in Spenser, Epigram III (p. 586); and the variation a a b c c d d b4 (with the cauda enclosed by the pedes) shows up in Moore.
The same peculiarity we find in stanzas formed on the scheme A A b c b c A A4 (Moore), or a a b c b c d d4 (Wordsworth, ii. 267); cf. Metrik, ii, §§ 372, 373
The same oddity appears in stanzas structured with the pattern A A b c b c A A4 (Moore), or a a b c b c d d4 (Wordsworth, ii. 267); see Metrik, ii, §§ 372, 373.
§ 270. Stanzas of a still larger compass are of rare occurrence in Middle English poetry. A nine-lined stanza corresponding to the formula a a b a a b b c c5 we have in Chaucer’s Complaynt of Mars; it seems to be formed from the rhyme royal stanza, by adding one verse to each pes; but it might also be looked upon as a combination with the tail-rhyme stanza. Another stanza of this kind, with the formula a a b a a b b a b5, is used in Chaucer’s Complaynt of Faire Anelyda and in Dunbar’s Goldin Targe.
§ 270. Longer stanzas are quite rare in Middle English poetry. A nine-line stanza that follows the pattern a a b a a b b c c5 can be found in Chaucer’s Complaynt of Mars; it appears to be created by adding one line to each pes of the rhyme royal stanza, but it could also be seen as a mix with the tail-rhyme stanza. Another stanza of this type, with the pattern a a b a a b b a b5, is used in Chaucer’s Complaynt of Faire Anelyda and in Dunbar’s Goldin Targe.
A similar stanza, corresponding to the formula a a b c c b d b d4, occurs in Modern English poetry in John Scott, Ode XII. Other stanzas used in the Modern English period are formed with parallel rhymes, as e. g. on the scheme a a a b b b c c c4 (Walter Scott, Lady of the Lake, p. 187); forms with crossed rhymes throughout or partly are also used, as e.g. by Wyatt, p. 121, according to the formula a b a b c c c d d5:
A similar stanza, following the pattern a a b c c b d b d4, appears in Modern English poetry in John Scott’s Ode XII. Other stanzas from the Modern English period are structured with parallel rhymes, such as in the pattern a a a b b b c c c4 (Walter Scott, Lady of the Lake, p. 187); forms with crossed rhymes, either fully or partially, are also used, as in Wyatt, p. 121, following the pattern a b a b c c c d d5:
As to other schemes (a b a b b c d c d5, a b a b b c b c c5, a b a b c d c d R4, a b a b c d c d d4, &c.) cf. Metrik, ii, §§ 374–6
As for other patterns (a b a b b c d c d5, a b a b b c b c c5, a b a b c d c d R4, a b a b c d c d d4, &c.), see Metrik, ii, §§ 374–6.
§ 271. A Middle English stanza of ten lines, similar to those of nine lines, is used by Chaucer in the Envoy to his Complaynt of Mars and Venus (a a b a a b b a a b5); another on the model a b a b b c c b b b4is found in a poem Long Life (E. E. T. S., 49, p. 156, quoted in Metrik, i. p. 421).
§ 271. A Middle English stanza of ten lines, similar to the nine-line ones, is used by Chaucer in the Envoy to his Complaynt of Mars and Venus (a a b a a b b a a b5); another similar one with the pattern a b a b b c c b b b4 is found in the poem Long Life (E. E. T. S., 49, p. 156, quoted in Metrik, i. p. 421).
Some of the Modern English stanzas again are formed by combination with different varieties of the tail-rhyme stanza, as e.g. one according to the formula a a b ~ c c b ~ d d e e4 in Prior, The Parallel (Poets, vii. 507):
Some of the Modern English stanzas are created by combining different types of the tail-rhyme stanza, such as one that follows the pattern a a b ~ c c b ~ d d e e4 in Prior, The Parallel (Poets, vii. 507):
A stanza of trochaic verses corresponding to a similar scheme, viz. a a b c c b d d d b4, is used by Tennyson in The Window (p. 284).
A stanza of trochaic verses that follows a similar pattern, namely a a b c c b d d d b4, is used by Tennyson in The Window (p. 284).
Sometimes the scheme is a b a b c c d e e d4 (where there are two pedes forming a frons, and a tail-rhyme stanza equivalent to two versus), as in Akenside, Book I, Ode II (Poets, ix. 773).
Sometimes the rhyme pattern is a b a b c c d e e d4 (where there are two pedes creating a frons, and a tail-rhyme stanza equivalent to two versus), as seen in Akenside, Book I, Ode II (Poets, ix. 773).
Some stanzas, on the other hand, have a parallel arrangement of rhymes, a a b b c c d d e E (e E being the cauda) as in Walter Scott, Soldier, Wake (p. 465); or more frequently crossed rhymes, a b a b c d c d e e5, a b a b c d c d e e4, the first eight verses forming the upsong (pedes); or with a four-lined upsong a a b b c d c d e e4, a a b b c d d e d e3, a b a b b c c d c D5. The last-mentioned form has been used several times by Swinburne, e.g. Poems, ii, pp. 126, 215, 219, &c., in his ballads. For specimens see Metrik, ii, §§ 379–81.
Some stanzas have a parallel rhyme scheme, a a b b c c d d e E (e E being the cauda), like in Walter Scott's Soldier, Wake (p. 465); or more commonly crossed rhymes, a b a b c d c d e e5, a b a b c d c d e e4, where the first eight lines form the upsong (pedes); or with a four-line upsong a a b b c d c d e e4, a a b b c d d e d e3, a b a b b c c d c D5. The last form has been used several times by Swinburne, for example in Poems, ii, pp. 126, 215, 219, &c., in his ballads. For examples, see Metrik, ii, §§ 379–81.
§ 272. Stanzas of eleven lines are very scarce in Middle English poetry, if used there at all, and even in Modern English very few examples occur. A stanza of Swinburne’s may be mentioned here, imitated from an Old French ballade- (or rather chant-royal) stanza, corresponding to the formula a b a b c c d d e d E5 and used in a Ballad against the Enemies of France (Poems, ii. 212). Cf. Metrik, ii, §382.
§ 272. Stanzas of eleven lines are quite rare in Middle English poetry, if they appear at all, and even in Modern English, there are very few examples. One stanza by Swinburne can be mentioned here, inspired by an Old French ballade- (or rather chant-royal) stanza, following the pattern a b a b c c d d e d E5 and used in a Ballad against the Enemies of France (Poems, ii. 212). See also Metrik, ii, §382.
Twelve-lined stanzas are much more frequently used, even in Middle English poetry; one of four-foot verses according to the scheme a b a b a b a b b c b C (the stanzas being connected into groups by concatenatio) occurs in the fine fourteenth-century poem, The Pearl. Another of four-stressed verses corresponding to the formula a b a b a b a b c d c d we have in Wright’s Polit. Songs, p. 149; one of four-foot verses together with other forms of stanzas (a b a b a b a b a b a b, a b a b c d c d e f e f) we have in the poem on the Childhood of Christ (ed. Horstmann, Heilbronn, 1878).
Twelve-lined stanzas are used much more often, even in Middle English poetry; one type of four-foot verse following the pattern a b a b a b a b b c b C (with the stanzas linked together through concatenatio) appears in the beautiful fourteenth-century poem, The Pearl. Another four-stressed verse that matches the formula a b a b a b a b c d c d can be found in Wright’s Polit. Songs, p. 149; one type of four-foot verse, along with other stanza forms (a b a b a b a b a b a b, a b a b c d c d e f e f), appears in the poem about the Childhood of Christ (ed. Horstmann, Heilbronn, 1878).
But it is chiefly in Modern English poetry that stanzas of twelve lines are very common, especially stanzas consisting of three equal parts, with crossed rhymes. In some of these there is no difference at all in the structure of the three parts, as e.g. in a stanza by Prior (Poets, vii. 402) on the model a b a b c d c d e f e f4; while in others the refrain (consisting of the four last verses) forms the cauda, as e.g. in Moore’s Song on the Birthday of Mrs. ——:
But it’s mainly in Modern English poetry that twelve-line stanzas are quite common, especially those made up of three equal parts with crossed rhymes. In some of these, the structure of the three parts is exactly the same, like in a stanza by Prior (Poets, vii. 402) following the pattern a b a b c d c d e f e f4; while in others, the refrain (made up of the last four lines) acts as the cauda, as seen in Moore’s Song on the Birthday of Mrs. ——:
Now and then certain modifications of this form of stanza are met with, especially stanzas the four-lined refrain of which forms not only the end, but also the beginning, of the stanza (but as a rule only in the first stanza, the others having the refrain only at the end); e.g. A B A B c d c d A B A B3 (st. 1), d e d e f g f g A B A B3. (st. 2), h i h i k l k l A B A B3 (st. 3), in Moore, Drink to her.
Now and then, we come across some variations of this type of stanza, especially stanzas where the four-line refrain appears not just at the end, but also at the beginning of the stanza (though usually only in the first stanza; others have the refrain only at the end); for example, A B A B c d c d A B A B3 (st. 1), d e d e f g f g A B A B3 (st. 2), h i h i k l k l A B A B3 (st. 3), as in Moore's Drink to her.
In other poems Moore uses this type of stanza with lines of four stresses, as in Drink of this cup, and with lines of two stresses, as in When the Balaika. For some rarely occurring stanzas of this kind see Metrik, ii, §§ 385, 386.
In other poems, Moore uses this type of stanza with lines that have four beats, like in Drink of this cup, and with lines that have two beats, as in When the Balaika. For some stanzas of this kind that appear rarely, see Metrik, ii, §§ 385, 386.
A stanza of thirteen lines corresponding to the formula a b a b b c b c d e e e d4 occurs in the Middle English poem The Eleven Pains of Hell (E. E. T. S., 49, p. 210). Another one on the scheme a ~ a ~ B c ~ c ~ B d ~ d ~ d ~ b e ~ e ~ B3 we have in Moore, Go where glory waits thee.
A stanza of thirteen lines that follows the pattern a b a b b c b c d e e e d4 appears in the Middle English poem The Eleven Pains of Hell (E. E. T. S., 49, p. 210). Another one with the structure a ~ a ~ B c ~ c ~ B d ~ d ~ d ~ b e ~ e ~ B3 can be found in Moore's Go where glory waits thee.
As to stanzas of fifteen and eighteen lines see Metrik, ii, § 387.
As for stanzas of fifteen and eighteen lines, see Metrik, ii, § 387.
II. Anisometrical stanzas.
§ 273. As mentioned before (§ 267) the anisometrical stanzas of the tripartite class, being older, might have been dealt with before the isometrical stanzas. This chronological order of treatment, however, would have been somewhat inconvenient in practice, as it would have involved the necessity of discussing many of the more complicated stanzas before the shorter and simpler ones, most of which do not occur in Middle English, but in Modern poetry only. Moreover, the absence of certain simple and short forms of stanza constructed in accordance with the principles which were generally adopted in the Middle English period is a purely accidental circumstance, which is liable at any moment to be altered by the discovery of new texts.
§ 273. As mentioned before (§ 267), the uneven stanzas of the tripartite class, being older, might have been addressed before the even stanzas. However, this chronological approach would have been somewhat impractical, as it would require discussing many of the more complex stanzas before the shorter and simpler ones, most of which are not found in Middle English but only in Modern poetry. Furthermore, the lack of certain simple and short forms of stanzas designed according to the principles commonly accepted in the Middle English period is purely coincidental and could change at any moment with the discovery of new texts.
In the following paragraphs, therefore, the stanzas belonging to this chapter are discussed according to their arrangement of rhymes and to the length of the lines of which they are composed.
In the following paragraphs, the stanzas in this chapter are discussed based on their rhyme scheme and the length of the lines they're made up of.
A pretty stanza with the scheme a a b b3 c c4 presents itself in the song The Fairy Queen (Percy’s Rel. III. ii. 26):
A nice stanza with the scheme a a b b3 c c4 appears in the song The Fairy Queen (Percy’s Rel. III. ii. 26):
For similar stanzas conforming to the schemes a a b b4 c c5, a a b b c4 c5, a a b b c ~ c ~5, a a b b6 c ~ c ~5, a a b b c4 c3 (in Moore, The Wandering Bard), &c., see Metrik, ii, § 389.
For similar stanzas following the patterns a a b b4 c c5, a a b b c4 c5, a a b b c ~ c ~5, a a b b6 c ~ c ~5, a a b b c4 c3 (in Moore, The Wandering Bard), etc., see Metrik, ii, § 389.
Another group is represented by stanzas of six rhyming couplets of unequal length, as a5 a4 b5 b4 c5 c4 (Sidney, Psalm XXXIX), a6 a3 b6 b3 c6 c3 (id. Psalm II); or a5 a2 b5 b2 c c5, a4 a5 b4 b5 c c4, frequently used by Herbert and Cowley, or a5 a4 b b3 c5 c4, a a b4 b3 c c4 (in Moore, St. Senanus and the Lady), the two pedes enclosing the cauda (cf. Metrik, ii, §§ 390–2).
Another group consists of stanzas made up of six rhyming couplets of varying lengths, such as a5 a4 b5 b4 c5 c4 (Sidney, Psalm XXXIX), a6 a3 b6 b3 c6 c3 (id. Psalm II); or a5 a2 b5 b2 c c5, a4 a5 b4 b5 c c4, often used by Herbert and Cowley, or a5 a4 b b3 c5 c4, a a b4 b3 c c4 (in Moore, St. Senanus and the Lady), with the two pedes surrounding the cauda (cf. Metrik, ii, §§ 390–2).
Similar stanzas with crossed rhymes occur pretty often, especially stanzas of three Septenary verses broken up by inserted rhyme, according to the formula a4 b ~3 a4 b ~3 a4 b ~3, as in Moore, The Gazelle:
Similar stanzas with crossed rhymes appear quite frequently, especially stanzas of three Septenary verses interrupted by inserted rhyme, following the pattern a4 b ~3 a4 b ~3 a4 b ~3, like in Moore's The Gazelle:
For other specimens see Metrik, ii, § 393
For more examples, see Metrik, ii, § 393.
Numerous other examples are quoted in Metrik, ii, § 394, together with similar stanzas formed according to the schemes a b ~ a b ~3 c c4, a b a b3 C C4, a ~ b a ~ b3 c c5, a b a b4 c c5, a ~ b a ~ b4 c c6, &c.
Numerous other examples are cited in Metrik, ii, § 394, along with similar stanzas created according to the patterns a b ~ a b ~3 c c4, a b a b3 C C4, a ~ b a ~ b3 c c5, a b a b4 c c5, a ~ b a ~ b4 c c6, &c.
The reverse order with regard to the length of the verses in the pedes and the cauda is also not uncommon, as e.g. in stanzas on the schemes a b a b c5 c4, a b a b c5 c3, a b a b5 c4 c5, &c.
The reverse order in the length of the lines in the pedes and the cauda is also pretty common, as seen in stanzas following the patterns a b a b c5 c4, a b a b c5 c3, a b a b5 c4 c5, and so on.
Stanzas of this kind are met with chiefly in the earlier Modern English poets, e.g. in Cowley and Herbert. Shorter lines also are used, e.g. in stanzas corresponding to the formulas a b a b4 c c3, a b a b4 c c2; stanzas like these also occur later, e.g. in Moore. In Cowley, now and then, a stanza is found with a preceding frons (on the scheme a a5 b c b c4). In Moore we find yet another variety (in Poor broken flower), the cauda of which is enclosed by the pedes (according to the formula a ~ b5 c c3 a ~ b5).
Stanzas like these are mostly found in earlier Modern English poets, such as Cowley and Herbert. Shorter lines are also used, for example, in stanzas that follow the patterns a b a b4 c c3 and a b a b4 c c2; stanzas like this also appear later, such as in Moore. In Cowley, occasionally, a stanza is found with a preceding frons (following the pattern a a5 b c b c4). In Moore, we see yet another variation (in Poor broken flower), where the cauda is enclosed by the pedes (according to the formula a ~ b5 c c3 a ~ b5).
Another group of stanzas is to be mentioned here, the verses of which are of different length in the first part, admitting of many various combinations. Especially stanzas of Septenary rhythm in the first part are very popular, as e.g. in Cowper’s fine poem The Castaway (p. 400), on the scheme a4 b3 a4 b3 c c4:
Another group of stanzas should be noted here, where the lines vary in length in the first part, allowing for many different combinations. Stanzas with a seven-beat rhythm in the first part are especially popular, like in Cowper's excellent poem The Castaway (p. 400), following the pattern a4 b3 a4 b3 c c4:
There are many varieties of this form of stanza, as e.g. a4 b3 a4 b3 c c5, a4 b3 a4 b3 c4 c5, a3 b2 a3 b2 c4 c5, a4 b2 a4 b2 c c4, a5 b4 a5 b4 c c5; a3 b4 a3 b4 c c4, a2 b4 a2 b4 c c5. All these different schemes were chiefly used by the earlier Modern English poets, as Browne, Carew, Cowley, Waller, and Herbert. (See Metrik, ii, § 397).
There are many variations of this type of stanza, such as a4 b3 a4 b3 c c5, a4 b3 a4 b3 c4 c5, a3 b2 a3 b2 c4 c5, a4 b2 a4 b2 c c4, a5 b4 a5 b4 c c5; a3 b4 a3 b4 c c4, a2 b4 a2 b4 c c5. All these different patterns were primarily used by earlier Modern English poets like Browne, Carew, Cowley, Waller, and Herbert. (See Metrik, ii, § 397).
There are some other stanzas of allied structure which may be regarded as extensions of the Poulter’s Measure by the addition of a second Alexandrine or Septenary verse, their formulas being a b c b3 d4 d3 or a b3 c4 b3 d4 d3. For examples see Metrik, ii, § 398.
There are some other stanzas with a similar structure that can be seen as variations of the Poulter’s Measure by adding a second Alexandrine or Septenary line, with their patterns being a b c b3 d4 d3 or a b3 c4 b3 d4 d3. For examples, see Metrik, ii, § 398.
§ 275. Stanzas of seven lines are very common, and have many diverse forms. In the first place may be mentioned those which have parallel arrangement of rhymes, and in which the frons is isometrical. Some of these forms, used chiefly by the earlier poets, as Cowley, Sheffield, and others, have the scheme a a b b c4 c2 c5 or a a b b c4 c a5. Another variety, with alternate four-and two-foot iambic-anapaestic lines according to the formula a a b b4 r r2 R4, occurs in Moore, The Legend of Puck the Fairy:
§ 275. Stanzas of seven lines are very common and come in many different forms. First, we can mention those that have a parallel rhyme scheme and where the frons is isometric. Some of these forms, primarily used by the earlier poets like Cowley, Sheffield, and others, follow the rhyme schemes a a b b c4 c2 c5 or a a b b c4 c a5. Another variation includes alternating four- and two-foot iambic-anapestic lines according to the formula a a b b4 r r2 R4, which can be found in Moore, The Legend of Puck the Fairy:
Stanzas with an anisometrical first part, e.g. on the model a4 a5 b4 b5 c c4 c5in Donne, Love’s Exchange (Poets, iv. 30), are of rare occurrence.
Stanzas with an uneven first part, for example, modeled like a4 a5 b4 b5 c c4 c5 in Donne, Love’s Exchange (Poets, iv. 30), are quite uncommon.
Numerous stanzas of this kind have in part crossed rhymes; we find, e. g., stanzas with the same order of rhymes as in the rhyme royal, on the model a b a b b c3 c5 as in S. Daniel, A Description of Beauty:
Numerous stanzas like this have partially crossed rhymes; for example, we see stanzas with the same rhyme scheme as in the rhyme royal, following the pattern a b a b b c3 c5 as in S. Daniel, A Description of Beauty:
Similar stanzas have the schemes a b a b b3 c c5, a b a b c b4 c2, a b a b c c4 R2, a b a b c c4 C5, a b a b c c4 b3, a b a b4 c c2 a4, &c. For examples see Metrik, ii, §§ 401–3.
Similar stanzas have the patterns a b a b b3 c c5, a b a b c b4 c2, a b a b c c4 R2, a b a b c c4 C5, a b a b c c4 b3, a b a b4 c c2 a4, &c. For examples see Metrik, ii, §§ 401–3.
In many stanzas the first and the last part (frons and cauda) are anisometrical. Thus Donne, Cowley, and Congreve furnish many examples of the formulas a5 b4 a5 b4 c c4 b5, a ~4 b6 a ~4 b5 c c3 c4, a4 b5 a4 b5 c c2 b4, and later poets make frequent use of similar stanzas composed of shorter lines after the model of the following by Congreve, Poets, vii. 546 (a4 b ~3 a4 b ~3 c c4 b ~3):
In many stanzas, the first and last parts (frons and cauda) are uneven. For example, Donne, Cowley, and Congreve provide numerous instances of the patterns a5 b4 a5 b4 c c4 b5, a ~4 b6 a ~4 b5 c c3 c4, a4 b5 a4 b5 c c2 b4, and later poets often use similar stanzas made up of shorter lines, following the example of the one below by Congreve, Poets, vii. 546 (a4 b ~3 a4 b ~3 c c4 b ~3):
For examples of other similar stanzas (a4 b3 a4 b3 c c b3, a4 b3 a4 b3 C C3 C5, a3 b4 a3 b4 c c c4, a4 b ~2 a4 b ~2 c c a4, &c.) see Metrik, ii, §§ 404–6.
For examples of other similar stanzas (a4 b3 a4 b3 c c b3, a4 b3 a4 b3 C C3 C5, a3 b4 a3 b4 c c c4, a4 b ~2 a4 b ~2 c c a4, &c.) see Metrik, ii, §§ 404–6.
§ 276. Eight-lined stanzas of various kinds are also very popular. They rarely occur, however, with an isometrical frons, composed of rhyming couplets (a a b b c c d5 d3, a ~ a ~ b ~ b ~4 C ~ C ~2 d ~ d ~4, a a b b c c d4 d5; cf. Metrik, ii, §§ 408, 410); or with enclosing rhymes in the cauda (a a b b c d d4 c5, a a b b4 c d4 d2 c4, ib. § 409); or of an anisometrical structure with parallel rhymes in both parts (ib. § 411).
§ 276. Eight-lined stanzas of different types are also quite popular. However, they rarely appear with an isometric frons, made up of rhyming couplets (a a b b c c d5 d3, a ~ a ~ b ~ b ~4 C ~ C ~2 d ~ d ~4, a a b b c c d4 d5; see Metrik, ii, §§ 408, 410); or with enclosing rhymes in the cauda (a a b b c d d4 c5, a a b b4 c d4 d2 c4, ib. § 409); or in an anisometric structure with parallel rhymes in both sections (ib. § 411).
The usual forms show crossed rhymes; either throughout the whole stanza (in which case the first part is isometrical), or in the first part only. The first form is represented by the following elegant stanza (a b a b5 c4 d ~3 c4 d ~3) in the second of Drayton’s Eclogues (Poets, iii. 590):
The usual styles exhibit crossed rhymes, either across the entire stanza (where the first part has equal meter) or just in the first part. The first style is illustrated by the following elegant stanza (a b a b5 c4 d ~3 c4 d ~3) in the second of Drayton’s Eclogues (Poets, iii. 590):
Other schemes that occur are: a b a b c5 d3 c5 d3, a b a b c d c4 d3, a b a b c c d4 d3, a b a b4 c c2 d d4, a b a4 b3 c c d d4, a ~ b a ~ b3 c4 d3 d4 d3, a b ~ a b ~3 c4 d ~3 c4 d ~3, a ~ b c ~ b d ~ e3 f4 e3, a ~ b a ~ b3 c d c4 d3, a ~ b a ~ b c ~ d c ~4 d5 (M. Arnold, p. 2), &c.; for numerous examples see Metrik, ii, §§ 412, 414, 415.
Other patterns that appear are: a b a b c5 d3 c5 d3, a b a b c d c4 d3, a b a b c c d4 d3, a b a b4 c c2 d d4, a b a4 b3 c c d d4, a ~ b a ~ b3 c4 d3 d4 d3, a b ~ a b ~3 c4 d ~3 c4 d ~3, a ~ b c ~ b d ~ e3 f4 e3, a ~ b a ~ b3 c d c4 d3, a ~ b a ~ b c ~ d c ~4 d5 (M. Arnold, p. 2), &c.; for many more examples see Metrik, ii, §§ 412, 414, 415.
Sometimes stanzas occur, the isometrical part of which forms the cauda, as on the scheme a4 b3 a4 b3 c c d d4 in Moore, Sovereign Woman:
Sometimes stanzas appear where the isometrical part creates the cauda, as seen in the pattern a4 b3 a4 b3 c c d d4 in Moore, Sovereign Woman:
§ 277. Very frequently stanzas occur which are of an entirely anisometrical structure in both parts. To this group belong the first tripartite anisometrical stanzas of the Middle English period, contained in Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 111 (two songs). Their stanzaic form (a4 b3 a4 b3 b b5 c7 c5) is also of great importance, on account of the fact that the first five-foot verses as yet known in English poetry occur in the cauda of these stanzas. The first strophe may serve as an example:
§ 277. Often, there are stanzas that have completely uneven structures in both parts. This group includes the first three-part uneven stanzas from the Middle English period, found in Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 111 (two songs). Their stanza format (a4 b3 a4 b3 b b5 c7 c5) is also very significant because the first known five-foot verses in English poetry appear in the cauda of these stanzas. The first strophe can be used as an example:
This stanza is also interesting on account of its regular use of masculine rhymes in the first and in the third line, and of feminine rhymes in the others. The structure of the five-measured verses employed in this stanza has been referred to before (§ 153).
This stanza is also interesting because it regularly uses masculine rhymes in the first and third lines, and feminine rhymes in the others. The structure of the five-measure verses used in this stanza has been mentioned before (§ 153).
Very often both main parts, the upsong and the downsong, have crossed rhymes in Modern English, e.g. in a form of stanza with the scheme a5 b3 a5 b3 c d5 c3 d2 in Southey, To a Spider (ii. 180):
Very often, both main parts, the upsong and the downsong, have crossed rhymes in Modern English, for example, in a stanza format with the scheme a5 b3 a5 b3 c d5 c3 d2 in Southey's To a Spider (ii. 180):
A structure analogous to that of the two last-quoted specimens is exhibited in many stanzas occurring in earlier Modern English poetry, as in Cowley, Herbert, Browne, Carew (a5 b4 a5 b4 c4 c5 d4 d5, a5 b2 a5 b2 c4 c3 d5 d2, a3 b2 a3 b2 c c4 d d5, a4 b2 a4 b2 c3 c2 d d3); other forms, corresponding only in the upsong or downsong to the Middle English stanza quoted above, are a ~4 b2 a ~3 b2 c ~4 d3 c ~4 d3, a4 b ~3 a4 b ~3 b ~2 b ~3 c4 b ~3, a4 b3 a4 b3 c d3 c4 d3, &c., used by Burns, Moore, and Mrs. Hemans. For examples see Metrik, ii, §§ 417, 418.
A structure similar to that of the last two quoted examples appears in many stanzas found in earlier Modern English poetry, such as those by Cowley, Herbert, Browne, and Carew (a5 b4 a5 b4 c4 c5 d4 d5, a5 b2 a5 b2 c4 c3 d5 d2, a3 b2 a3 b2 c c4 d d5, a4 b2 a4 b2 c3 c2 d d3); other forms that only match in the upsong or downsong to the Middle English stanza mentioned above include a ~4 b2 a ~3 b2 c ~4 d3 c ~4 d3, a4 b ~3 a4 b ~3 b ~2 b ~3 c4 b ~3, a4 b3 a4 b3 c d3 c4 d3, &c., used by Burns, Moore, and Mrs. Hemans. For examples see Metrik, ii, §§ 417, 418.
§ 278. The next group consists of stanzas, one main part of which consists of a half or of a whole tail-rhyme stanza. The first of these two forms is used e.g. by Burns in the song She’s Fair and Fause (p. 204), where the stanza consists of four- and three-foot verses on the model a4 b3 a4 b3 c c c4 d3:
§ 278. The next group includes stanzas, with one main part made up of either a half or a whole tail-rhyme stanza. The first of these two forms is used, for example, by Burns in the song She’s Fair and Fause (p. 204), where the stanza consists of four- and three-foot lines following the pattern a4 b3 a4 b3 c c c4 d3:
Other stanzas of this class correspond to the formulas a4 b3 a4 b3 a a a4 b3, a ~4 b2 a ~4 b3 c ~ c ~ c ~4 b2, a3 b2 a3 b2 c c c3 b2. For examples see Metrik, ii, § 419.
Other stanzas of this class match the patterns a4 b3 a4 b3 a a a4 b3, a ~4 b2 a ~4 b3 c ~ c ~ c ~4 b2, a3 b2 a3 b2 c c c3 b2. For examples, see Metrik, ii, § 419.
There is another form of stanza the first part of which according to the Middle English usage consists of a complete tail-rhyme stanza (cf. the ten-lined stanzas of this group), while the cauda is formed by a rhyming couplet, so that its structure corresponds to the scheme a a4 b3 a a4 b3 c c4; it occurs in Spenser, Epigrams, ii (p. 586):
There’s another type of stanza where the first part, following the Middle English style, consists of a complete tail-rhyme stanza (see the ten-line stanzas in this group), while the cauda is made up of a rhyming couplet. This structure follows the pattern a a4 b3 a a4 b3 c c4; it appears in Spenser, Epigrams, ii (p. 586):
Similar stanzas of other metres are very frequently met with, as e.g. stanzas corresponding to the formulas a a4 b3 c c4 b3 d d5, a a3 b2 c c3 b2 d d6, a a2 b3 c c2 b3 b b7, and a ~ a ~4 b5 c ~ c ~4 b5 d d5. The reverse order (i.e. frons + two versus) we have in a a3 b b2 c3 b b2 c3 and a a5 b b3 c5 d d3 e5. For examples see Metrik, ii, § 420.
Similar stanzas in other meters are often found, such as those that match the patterns a a4 b3 c c4 b3 d d5, a a3 b2 c c3 b2 d d6, a a2 b3 c c2 b3 b b7, and a ~ a ~4 b5 c ~ c ~4 b5 d d5. The reverse order (i.e. frons + two versus) appears in a a3 b b2 c3 b b2 c3 and a a5 b b3 c5 d d3 e5. For examples, see Metrik, ii, § 420.
A stanza corresponding to the formula a b4 c3 a b4 c3 a4 D3 occurs in M. Arnold’s The Church of Brou (p. 17)
A stanza that matches the pattern a b4 c3 a b4 c3 a4 D3 can be found in M. Arnold’s The Church of Brou (p. 17)
§ 279. Among stanzas of nine lines, those with parallel rhymes must again be mentioned first; as e.g. a strophe on the scheme a a b b c c d d4 d5, in Akenside, Book I, Ode X, To the Muse (Poets, ix. 780). Other stanzas occurring also in more recent poetry (Wordsworth, W. Scott) are on the schemes a a b b4 c c2 c d d4, a a b b c4 d3 c c4 d3, a4 b3 a a4 b3 c c d D4. For examples see Metrik, ii, § 421.
§ 279. Among nine-line stanzas, those with parallel rhymes should be mentioned first; for example, a stanza with the pattern a a b b c c d d4 d5, found in Akenside, Book I, Ode X, To the Muse (Poets, ix. 780). Other stanzas that also appear in more recent poetry (Wordsworth, W. Scott) follow the patterns a a b b4 c c2 c d d4, a a b b c4 d3 c c4 d3, a4 b3 a a4 b3 c c d D4. For examples see Metrik, ii, § 421.
Similar stanzas, also with an isometrical first part, but with crossed rhymes, are not very often met with. The schemes are a b a b4 c c2 c d d4, a b a b c c d d4 d5, a b a b b c b b4 c3, a b a b c d c d4 e2, a4 b3 a a4 b3 c ~ d c ~ d4, &c. Specimens of them are also found in modern poets, as in Moore, Burns, Walter Scott, &c. For examples see Metrik, ii, § 422.
Similar stanzas, which also have an identical first part but feature crossed rhymes, are not frequently encountered. The patterns are a b a b4 c c2 c d d4, a b a b c c d d4 d5, a b a b b c b b4 c3, a b a b c d c d4 e2, a4 b3 a a4 b3 c ~ d c ~ d4, & etc. Examples of these can also be found in modern poets like Moore, Burns, Walter Scott, & others. For samples, see Metrik, ii, § 422.
More frequently stanzas occur with an anisometrical first and last part and crossed rhymes in each of them; the schemes are a4 b5 a4 b5 c4 d3 c5 d d4, a5 b2 a5 b2 c c5 d d2 c4, a4 b2 a4 b2 c4 d d2 c c4. The most popular, however, are those stanzas in which one or other of the two main parts consists of Septenary verses; they are of frequent occurrence in Burns and other modern poets; a stanza on the scheme a4 b3 a4 b3 c4 d ~3 c4 d ~3 r2, e.g., is found in Burns, The Holy Fair (p. 14):
More often, you see stanzas that have an uneven first and last part, with crossed rhymes in each of them; the patterns are a4 b5 a4 b5 c4 d3 c5 d d4, a5 b2 a5 b2 c c5 d d2 c4, a4 b2 a4 b2 c4 d d2 c c4. The most common ones, though, are the stanzas where one or both of the main parts are made up of seven-line verses; you can find these a lot in Burns and other modern poets; for example, a stanza with the pattern a4 b3 a4 b3 c4 d ~3 c4 d ~3 r2 appears in Burns, The Holy Fair (p. 14):
For similar examples see Metrik, ii, § 424.
For similar examples, see Metrik, ii, § 424.
Other stanzas are formed by combination with a complete or a shortened tail-rhyme stanza; so that we have schemes like a a4 b3 c c4 b3 d d d4, a ~ a ~ b c ~ c ~ b4 d ~ d ~2 b4, a a2 b4 c c2 b4 d d2 b4. They occur in Carew (Poets, iii. 709), Dryden (p. 368), and Thackeray (p. 237). The formula a4 b3 a4 b3 c d c c4 d3 we find in Campbell (p. 82), a4 b3 a4 b3 c c4 b3 d d4 in Byron’s Ode to Napoleon (p. 273):
Other stanzas are created by combining a complete or a shortened tail-rhyme stanza, resulting in patterns like a a4 b3 c c4 b3 d d d4, a ~ a ~ b c ~ c ~ b4 d ~ d ~2 b4, and a a2 b4 c c2 b4 d d2 b4. These can be found in Carew (Poets, iii. 709), Dryden (p. 368), and Thackeray (p. 237). The pattern a4 b3 a4 b3 c d c c4 d3 appears in Campbell (p. 82), and a4 b3 a4 b3 c c4 b3 d d4 in Byron’s Ode to Napoleon (p. 273):
For other specimens see Metrik, ii, §§ 424, 425
For other examples, see Metrik, ii, §§ 424, 425
§ 280. Among the stanzas of ten lines, those with an isometrical first part and parallel rhymes may first be mentioned; they correspond to the schemes a a b b c d d e e4 c5, a a b b c d c d4 f3 f4, a a b b c4 d3 c c c4 d3, a a b b4 c d c d2 e e4, and are found in Akenside, Wordsworth, and Moore. Next come stanzas with an anisometrical first part according to the formulas a5 a4 b5 b4 c c5 d d e4 e5, a4 a5 b4 b5 c d c4 d3 e e5, a ~ a ~3 b b4 c ~ c ~3 d d4 e ~ e ~3, occurring in Cowley and Campbell (cf. Metrik, ii, §§ 427, 428).
§ 280. Among the stanzas of ten lines, those with a symmetrical first part and parallel rhymes are noteworthy; they correspond to the patterns a a b b c d d e e4 c5, a a b b c d c d4 f3 f4, a a b b c4 d3 c c c4 d3, a a b b4 c d c d2 e e4, and are found in Akenside, Wordsworth, and Moore. Next are stanzas with an asymmetrical first part according to the formulas a5 a4 b5 b4 c c5 d d e4 e5, a4 a5 b4 b5 c d c4 d3 e e5, a ~ a ~3 b b4 c ~ c ~3 d d4 e ~ e ~3, found in Cowley and Campbell (cf. Metrik, ii, §§ 427, 428).
In other stanzas, crossed rhymes are used in the isometrical first part; they correspond to the formulas a b a b5 c4 d3 c4 d3 e6 e7, a b a b c c d e d5 E2, a b a b c d e5 c3 d e5, a b a b c3 c2 d3 d2 e3 e4, and are found in Browne, G. Herbert, and Ben Jonson (ib. § 429).
In other stanzas, crossed rhymes are used in the consistent first part; they correspond to the patterns a b a b5 c4 d3 c4 d3 e6 e7, a b a b c c d e d5 E2, a b a b c d e5 c3 d e5, a b a b c3 c2 d3 d2 e3 e4, and are found in Browne, G. Herbert, and Ben Jonson (ib. § 429).
In modern poetry simpler stanzas of this kind are used; one e.g. on the scheme a ~ b ~ a ~ b ~3 c c4 d ~ e ~ d ~ e ~3 (the cauda being thus enclosed by the two pedes) in Moore’s song Bring the bright Garlands hither:
In contemporary poetry, simpler stanzas like this are used; for example, in the scheme a ~ b ~ a ~ b ~3 c c4 d ~ e ~ d ~ e ~3 (with the cauda enclosed by the two pedes) in Moore’s song Bring the bright Garlands hither:
Similar stanzas corresponding to the formulas a ~ b a ~ b2 c c4 d ~ e d ~ e2, a ~ b ~ a ~ b c ~ d c ~ d2 e e4, a b a b c d c d4 e3 e4 and a ~ b a ~ b4 c ~4 d3 c ~4 d3 c ~4 d3, are used by the same poet in With Moonlight Beaming, The Young Indian Maid, Guess, guess, and from this Hour.
Similar stanzas corresponding to the formulas a ~ b a ~ b2 c c4 d ~ e d ~ e2, a ~ b ~ a ~ b c ~ d c ~ d2 e e4, a b a b c d c d4 e3 e4 and a ~ b a ~ b4 c ~4 d3 c ~4 d3 c ~4 d3, are used by the same poet in With Moonlight Beaming, The Young Indian Maid, Guess, guess, and from this Hour.
Many stanzas of this group with an isometrical first part are formed by combination with a tail-rhyme stanza, which then generally forms the cauda, as in one of Cunningham’s stanzas, viz. in Newcastle Beer (Poets, x. 729), the stanza consisting of four- and two-stressed verses on the scheme a b a b4 c c2 d4 e e2 d4:
Many stanzas in this group with a consistent first part are created by combining them with a tail-rhyme stanza, which usually serves as the cauda. This is seen in one of Cunningham’s stanzas, specifically in Newcastle Beer (Poets, x. 729), where the stanza consists of four- and two-stressed lines that follow the pattern a b a b4 c c2 d4 e e2 d4:
For examples of many similar forms, e.g. a b a b c c d e e4 d3, a5 b b4 a5 c c d e e d3, a b a b4 c c2 d4 e ~ e ~2 d4, a b a b4 c c2 d3 e e2 d3, a b a b3 c ~ c ~1 d3 e ~ e ~1 d2, see Metrik, ii, § 431
For examples of many similar forms, like a b a b c c d e e4 d3, a5 b b4 a5 c c d e e d3, a b a b4 c c2 d4 e ~ e ~2 d4, a b a b4 c c2 d3 e e2 d3, a b a b3 c ~ c ~1 d3 e ~ e ~1 d2, see Metrik, ii, § 431
The shorter, Septenary part of the stanza represents the frons, the tail-rhyme stanza, the versus. Of a similar form (a4 b3 a4 b3 a a4 b3 a b3 a2) is the stanza of the poem An Orison of our Lady (E. E. T. S., vol. xlix, p. 158). In Modern English also allied forms occur; one especially with the scheme a4 b3 a4 b3 c c d e e4 d3 in Gray, Ode on the Spring (Poets, x. 215); other forms are a4 b3 a4 b3 c c2 d3 e e2 d4, a4 b3 a4 b3 c c d e e4 d5, a b3 a4 b3 d d4 e3 f f4 e3. (For examples see Metrik, ii, § 432.) The reverse combination, viz. tail-rhyme stanza and Septenary (on the scheme a a4 b3 c c4 b3 d4 b3 d4 b3), also occurs in Middle English times[195]), e.g. in Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 87:
The shorter, Septenary part of the stanza represents the frons, the tail-rhyme stanza, the versus. A similar form (a4 b3 a4 b3 a a4 b3 a b3 a2) appears in the poem An Orison of our Lady (E. E. T. S., vol. xlix, p. 158). In Modern English, there are also related forms; one in particular follows the scheme a4 b3 a4 b3 c c d e e4 d3 in Gray's Ode on the Spring (Poets, x. 215); other variations include a4 b3 a4 b3 c c2 d3 e e2 d4, a4 b3 a4 b3 c c d e e4 d5, and a b3 a4 b3 d d4 e3 f f4 e3. (For examples see Metrik, ii, § 432.) The reverse combination, which is the tail-rhyme stanza and Septenary (using the scheme a a4 b3 c c4 b3 d4 b3 d4 b3), also appears during Middle English times[195]), e.g., in Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 87:
Similar stanzas occur also in Modern English; e.g. one on the formula a a2 b3 c c2 b3 d4 e3 d4 e3 in Burns (p. 255), another on the scheme a a2 b3 c c2 b3 d e3 d4 e3 (= Poulter’s Measure in the cauda), ib. p. 189.
Similar stanzas can also be found in Modern English; for example, one using the pattern a a2 b3 c c2 b3 d4 e3 d4 e3 in Burns (p. 255), and another following the scheme a a2 b3 c c2 b3 d e3 d4 e3 (= Poulter’s Measure in the cauda), ib. p. 189.
Other ten-line stanzas consisting chiefly of Septenary verses or of Poulter’s Measure correspond to the formulas a4 b3 a4 b3 c4 d3 c4 d3 e e4, a b3 a4 b3 c d3 c4 d3 e e4, a b a4 b3 c d c4 d3 e e3. For examples, partly taken from Moore, see Metrik, ii, § 435.
Other ten-line stanzas mainly made up of seven-line verses or of Poulter’s Measure match the patterns a4 b3 a4 b3 c4 d3 c4 d3 e e4, a b3 a4 b3 c d3 c4 d3 e e4, a b a4 b3 c d c4 d3 e e3. For examples, partly taken from Moore, see Metrik, ii, § 435.
Stanzas of this kind consisting of five-foot verses are rarely met with, e.g. a5 b3 a5 b3 c5 d3 c5 d3 e e4, a b4 a5 b4 c c d d e e5, a5 b3 a5 b3 c c4 d2 d5 e2 e5; as in Spenser and Browne (cf. Metrik, ii, § 434)
Stanzas like this, made up of five-foot lines, are rarely seen, for example, a5 b3 a5 b3 c5 d3 c5 d3 e e4, a b4 a5 b4 c c d d e e5, a5 b3 a5 b3 c c4 d2 d5 e2 e5; as seen in Spenser and Browne (cf. Metrik, ii, § 434)
§ 282. Stanzas of eleven lines= are also rare. There is one with an isometrical first part (on the scheme a b a b5 c c2 c3 d2 d5 x2 d6) in Ben Jonson, Cynthia’s Revels (Poets, iv. 610); another in Campbell’s Gertrude of Wyoming (st. xxxv-xxxix), corresponding to the scheme a b a b4 c3 d d d4 c3 e e4.
§ 282. Stanzas with eleven lines are also uncommon. There's one with an isometric first part (following the pattern a b a b5 c c2 c3 d2 d5 x2 d6) in Ben Jonson's Cynthia’s Revels (Poets, iv. 610); another one can be found in Campbell’s Gertrude of Wyoming (st. xxxv-xxxix), matching the pattern a b a b4 c3 d d d4 c3 e e4.
Other stanzas of an almost entirely anisometrical structure consist of a combination with a tail-rhyme stanza, as e.g. a Middle English stanza on the scheme a a4 b3 a a4 b3 a4 b3 a a4 b3, with a regular tail-rhyme stanza representing the pedes, and a shortened tail- rhyme stanza representing the cauda; it occurs in the Towneley Mysteries, pp. 221–3. A similar one we have in Phineas Fletcher (Poets, iv. 460) on the formula a ~2 a ~3 b2 e ~2 e ~3 b2 d ~4 e ~ e ~2 d d5, and another one in Leigh Hunt, Coronation Soliloquy (p. 225) which corresponds to the formula a a2 b ~3 c c2 b ~3 d d2 e ~3 f4 e ~3.
Other stanzas with an almost entirely irregular structure consist of a combination with a tail-rhyme stanza, like a Middle English stanza following the pattern a a4 b3 a a4 b3 a4 b3 a a4 b3, where a regular tail-rhyme stanza represents the pedes, and a shortened tail-rhyme stanza represents the cauda; it appears in the Towneley Mysteries, pp. 221–3. A similar one can be found in Phineas Fletcher (Poets, iv. 460) with the pattern a ~2 a ~3 b2 e ~2 e ~3 b2 d ~4 e ~ e ~2 d d5, and another example is in Leigh Hunt's Coronation Soliloquy (p. 225), which matches the pattern a a2 b ~3 c c2 b ~3 d d2 e ~3 f4 e ~3.
Other stanzas of this kind are formed on the schemes a4 b2 a4 b2 c c2 d3 e4 d2 e4 d2 (Moore, Love’s Young Dream), a b b a c c d e e d5 e3 (Swinburne, Ave atque Vale, Poems, ii. 71). Cf. Metrik, ii, §§ 436, 437.
Other stanzas like this are based on the patterns a4 b2 a4 b2 c c2 d3 e4 d2 e4 d2 (Moore, Love’s Young Dream), a b b a c c d e e d5 e3 (Swinburne, Ave atque Vale, Poems, ii. 71). See Metrik, ii, §§ 436, 437.
§ 283. Stanzas of twelve lines are very numerous. One of the Middle English period we have in Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 27; it is formed on the scheme a4 b3 a4 b3 b b b c3 D D D4 C3 and is similar to those ten-lined stanzas mentioned above, which consist of two Septenary verses and a tail-rhyme stanza; the second part of which, being the refrain, thus becomes the cauda of the stanza. In the Modern English period some simple stanzas with an isometrical first part and parallel rhymes may be mentioned in the first place. These are constructed on the schemes a a b b c c d d4 e4 f2 e4 f2, a a b b c c d d e e f4 f3 and occur in Mrs. Hemans (iv. 171; vii. 155); stanzas of this kind with crossed rhymes are likewise met with, e.g. a ~ b a ~ b4 c c3 d5 e e f f3 d5 in Burns, p. 188.
§ 283. Stanzas of twelve lines are quite common. One from the Middle English period can be found in Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 27; it follows the pattern a4 b3 a4 b3 b b b c3 D D D4 C3 and is similar to the ten-line stanzas mentioned earlier, which consist of two Septenary verses and a tail-rhyme stanza; the second part of which, being the refrain, thus becomes the cauda of the stanza. In the Modern English period, some straightforward stanzas with an isometric first part and matching rhymes can be noted first. These are built on the patterns a a b b c c d d4 e4 f2 e4 f2, a a b b c c d d e e f4 f3 and appear in Mrs. Hemans (iv. 171; vii. 155); stanzas of this type with crossed rhymes are also found, for example, a ~ b a ~ b4 c c3 d5 e e f f3 d5 in Burns, p. 188.
Pretty often we find stanzas for singing, the cauda of which is enclosed by the pedes; in the first stanza the two pedes together form the refrain, in the others, however, only the last one, e.g. in stanzas on the schemes A ~ B A ~ B4 c4 d3 c4 d3 A ~ B A ~ B4, e ~ f e ~ f4 g4 h3 g4 h3 A ~ B A ~ B4 in Hymns Ancient and Mod., No. 138, consisting of trochaic verses:
Pretty often, we find stanzas for singing, the cauda of which is enclosed by the pedes; in the first stanza, the two pedes together form the refrain, while in the others, only the last one does. For example, in stanzas on the patterns A ~ B A ~ B4 c4 d3 c4 d3 A ~ B A ~ B4, e ~ f e ~ f4 g4 h3 g4 h3 A ~ B A ~ B4 in Hymns Ancient and Mod., No. 138, consisting of trochaic verses:
Similar stanzas frequently occur in Moore, e.g. stanzas on the models A ~ B A ~ B4 c c d3 d2 E ~ B E ~ B4, and f ~ g f ~ g4 h h i3 i2 E ~ B E ~ B4 (in Love’s light summer-cloud), A B ~ A B ~3 c d ~3 c4 d ~3 A B ~ A B ~3, e f ~ e f ~3 g h ~3 g4 h ~3 A B ~ A B ~3 (in All that’s bright must fade). For other examples see Metrik, ii, § 441.
Similar stanzas often appear in Moore, such as stanzas based on the patterns A ~ B A ~ B4 c c d3 d2 E ~ B E ~ B4, and f ~ g f ~ g4 h h i3 i2 E ~ B E ~ B4 (in Love’s light summer-cloud), A B ~ A B ~3 c d ~3 c4 d ~3 A B ~ A B ~3, e f ~ e f ~3 g h ~3 g4 h ~3 A B ~ A B ~3 (in All that’s bright must fade). For more examples, see Metrik, ii, § 441.
Similar stanzas of Septenary metres, also common in Moore, have the formulas a4 b3 a4 b3 c4 d3 c4 d3 E4 F3 E4 F3 (in When Time), A4 B3 A4 B3 c4 d3 c4 d3 A4 B3 A4 B3 (st. i), d4 e3 d4 e3 f4 g3 f4 g3 A4 B3 A4 B3 (st. ii); only in st. i the cauda is in the middle; in the others it closes the stanza (Nets and Cages).
Similar stanzas of Septenary meters, which are also common in Moore, have the patterns a4 b3 a4 b3 c4 d3 c4 d3 E4 F3 E4 F3 (in When Time), A4 B3 A4 B3 c4 d3 c4 d3 A4 B3 A4 B3 (st. i), d4 e3 d4 e3 f4 g3 f4 g3 A4 B3 A4 B3 (st. ii); only in st. i is the cauda in the middle; in the others, it ends the stanza (Nets and Cages).
Other stanzas have the reverse order of verses, as e.g. stanzas on the schemes a ~3 b4 a ~3 b4 c ~3 d4 c ~3 d4 E ~3 F4 E ~3 F4 (To Ladies’ Eyes), A ~3 B4 A ~3 B4 c d c d4 A ~3 B4 A ~3 B4 (Oh! Doubt me not). This sort of stanza also occurs in Moore with other metres, e.g. according to the formulas A4 B2 A4 B2 c3 d2 c3 d2 A4 B2 A4 B2, e4 b2 e4 b2 f3 g2 f3 g3 e4 b2 e4 b2 (Not from thee) and there are still other varieties in Moore and in some of the more recent poets. Cf. Metrik, ii, §§ 443–5
Other stanzas have the opposite order of verses, such as stanzas following the patterns a ~3 b4 a ~3 b4 c ~3 d4 c ~3 d4 E ~3 F4 E ~3 F4 (To Ladies’ Eyes) and A ~3 B4 A ~3 B4 c d c d4 A ~3 B4 A ~3 B4 (Oh! Doubt me not). This type of stanza also appears in Moore with other meters, for example, based on the patterns A4 B2 A4 B2 c3 d2 c3 d2 A4 B2 A4 B2, e4 b2 e4 b2 f3 g2 f3 g3 e4 b2 e4 b2 (Not from thee), and there are additional variations in Moore and some more recent poets. See Metrik, ii, §§ 443–5.
§ 284. Among the stanzas of thirteen lines, one belonging to the Middle English period has been mentioned above (p. 342, note), which is formed by combination with a tail-rhyme stanza.
§ 284. Among the stanzas of thirteen lines, one from the Middle English period has been mentioned above (p. 342, note), which is created by combining with a tail-rhyme stanza.
In the few Modern English stanzas of this length we generally find also a part of a tail-rhyme stanza, as e.g. in the cauda of a stanza constructed on the formula a b ~ a b ~ c d ~ c d ~4 E F ~4 g g2 F ~4 (Moore, Lesbia hath, &c.); or in a stanza like a ~ b a ~ b4 c c2 b4 d d2 e f e f4, deficient in one four-stressed tail-verse as in Moore, The Prince’s Day:
In the few Modern English stanzas of this length, we usually also find part of a tail-rhyme stanza, as seen in the cauda of a stanza structured on the formula a b ~ a b ~ c d ~ c d ~4 E F ~4 g g2 F ~4 (Moore, Lesbia hath, etc.); or in a stanza like a ~ b a ~ b4 c c2 b4 d d2 e f e f4, which is missing one four-stressed tail-verse as in Moore, The Prince’s Day:
For other forms of stanzas belonging to this group see Metrik, ii, § 447
For other types of stanzas in this group, see Metrik, ii, § 447.
§ 285. More numerous are stanzas of fourteen lines. Judging by the examples which have come to our knowledge, they are also, as a rule, formed by combination with a tail-rhyme stanza; as e.g. in a stanza by Browne (Poets, iv. 276) on the scheme a b a b c a c a5 a a2 b3 c c2 b3; another stanza, frequently used by Burns, corresponds to the formula a a4 b3 c c4 b3 d4 e3 d4 e3 f ~2 g3 h ~2 g3 and occurs, e.g., in his Epistle to Davie (p. 57):
§ 285. There are more examples of fourteen-line stanzas. Based on the examples we've seen, they generally combine with a tail-rhyme stanza; for instance, in a stanza by Browne (Poets, iv. 276) with the pattern a b a b c a c a5 a a2 b3 c c2 b3; another stanza, often used by Burns, follows the pattern a a4 b3 c c4 b3 d4 e3 d4 e3 f ~2 g3 h ~2 g3 and appears, for example, in his Epistle to Davie (p. 57):
A similar stanza is found in Moore, The Sale of Loves, a4 b ~3 a4 b ~3 c4 d ~3 c4 d ~3 E E2 F ~3 G G2 F ~3. In other stanzas used by this poet, the tail-rhyme stanza forms the cauda enclosed by two pedes (see § 283); e.g. in Nay, tell me not, dear, on the scheme a b a b4 c c2 d4 e e2 d4 F G F G4. Another stanza of the form A B ~ A B ~3 c c2 d3 e e2 d3 A B ~ A B ~3, f g ~ f g ~3 h h2 i3 k k2 i3 A B ~ A B ~3, is used in Oft, in the stilly night.
A similar stanza appears in Moore, The Sale of Loves, a4 b ~3 a4 b ~3 c4 d ~3 c4 d ~3 E E2 F ~3 G G2 F ~3. In other stanzas used by this poet, the tail-rhyme stanza forms the cauda enclosed by two pedes (see § 283); for example, in Nay, tell me not, dear, following the pattern a b a b4 c c2 d4 e e2 d4 F G F G4. Another stanza in the form A B ~ A B ~3 c c2 d3 e e2 d3 A B ~ A B ~3, f g ~ f g ~3 h h2 i3 k k2 i3 A B ~ A B ~3, is used in Oft, in the stilly night.
§ 286. Some stanzas of still greater extent (not very common) are also formed by combination with tail-rhyme stanzas. There are a few stanzas of fifteen lines, e.g. one on the model a a2 b3 c c2 b3 d d2 e3 f f2 e3 g G3 G4 in Moore, Song and Trio; one on a ~ a ~ b ~ b ~2 c1 d ~ d ~ e ~ e ~2 c1 f ~ f ~ g ~ g ~2 c1 in Shelley, The Fugitives (iii. 55); and one on a ~ a ~ a ~ b c ~ c ~ c ~ b d ~ d ~ d ~ e f ~ f ~2 e4 in Swinburne, Four Songs in Four Seasons (Poems, ii. 163–76).
§ 286. There are also some longer stanzas (which aren't very common) made by combining with tail-rhyme stanzas. A few fifteen-line stanzas exist, such as one modeled after a a2 b3 c c2 b3 d d2 e3 f f2 e3 g G3 G4 in Moore, Song and Trio; another modeled after a ~ a ~ b ~ b ~2 c1 d ~ d ~ e ~ e ~2 c1 f ~ f ~ g ~ g ~2 c1 in Shelley, The Fugitives (iii. 55); and one modeled after a ~ a ~ a ~ b c ~ c ~ c ~ b d ~ d ~ d ~ e f ~ f ~2 e4 in Swinburne, Four Songs in Four Seasons (Poems, ii. 163–76).
Two stanzas of sixteen lines occur in Moore on the schemes a a2 b ~3 c c2 b ~3 d e d e3 f f2 g ~3 h h2 g ~3 (The Indian Boat), and a a2 b ~3 c c2 b ~3 d d2 e ~3 f f2 e ~3 G ~4 H H2 G ~3 (Oh, the Shamrock).
Two stanzas of sixteen lines are found in Moore with the patterns a a2 b ~3 c c2 b ~3 d e d e3 f f2 g ~3 h h2 g ~3 (The Indian Boat), and a a2 b ~3 c c2 b ~3 d d2 e ~3 f f2 e ~3 G ~4 H H2 G ~3 (Oh, the Shamrock).
A stanza of seventeen lines (a a4 b3 a a4 b3 c c4 b3 c c4 b3 d4 e3 d d4 e3) is found in a Middle English poem in Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 47; it consists of two six-lined, common tail-rhyme stanzas (the pedes), and a shortened one (forming the cauda).
A stanza of seventeen lines (a a4 b3 a a4 b3 c c4 b3 c c4 b3 d4 e3 d d4 e3) is found in a Middle English poem in Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 47; it consists of two six-line stanzas with a common tail rhyme (the pedes), and a shortened one (forming the cauda).
A stanza of eighteen lines on the formula a a4 b3 c c4 b3 d d4 b3 e e4 b3 f f g g g f2 occurs in Wright’s Pol. Songs, p. 155 (cf. Metrik, i, p. 411); the scheme might also be given as a a4 b2, &c., if the tail-rhyme verses be looked upon as two-stressed lines. A simpler stanza according to the scheme a a2 b3 c c2 b3 d d2 b3 e e2 b3 f f2 g3 h h2 g3 is used in The Nut-Brown Mayd (Percy’s Rel. II. i. 6). Cf. § 244, also Metrik, i, p. 367, and ii, p. 715.
A stanza of eighteen lines based on the formula a a4 b3 c c4 b3 d d4 b3 e e4 b3 f f g g g f2 can be found in Wright’s Pol. Songs, p. 155 (see also Metrik, i, p. 411); the scheme could also be represented as a a4 b2, &c., if the tail-rhyme verses are considered as two-stressed lines. A simpler stanza following the scheme a a2 b3 c c2 b3 d d2 b3 e e2 b3 f f2 g3 h h2 g3 is used in The Nut-Brown Mayd (Percy’s Rel. II. i. 6). See § 244, and also Metrik, i, p. 367, and ii, p. 715.
Similar stanzas are used by Shelley (in Arethusa, i. 374) and by Moore (in Wreath the Bowl). Cf. Metrik, ii, § 453.
Similar stanzas are used by Shelley (in Arethusa, i. 374) and by Moore (in Wreath the Bowl). See Metrik, ii, § 453.
Lastly, a stanza of twenty lines with the scheme a b ~ a c d b ~ d c e e3 f4 g g3 f4 h h3 i4 k ~ k ~3 i4, occurs in The King of France’s Daughter (Percy’s Rel. III. ii. 17); cf. Metrik, ii, § 454.
Lastly, a stanza of twenty lines with the scheme a b ~ a c d b ~ d c e e3 f4 g g3 f4 h h3 i4 k ~ k ~3 i4 appears in The King of France’s Daughter (Percy’s Rel. III. ii. 17); cf. Metrik, ii, § 454.
PART III
MODERN STANZAS AND MEETER WITH FIXED FORM
ORIGINATING UNDER THE INFLUENCE OF THE
RENAISSANCE, OR INTRODUCED LATER
CHAPTER VI
STANZAS OF THREE OR MORE SECTIONS
MADE UP OF UNEQUAL SECTIONS ONLY
§ 287. Introductory remark. At the very beginning of the Modern English period the poetry of England was strongly influenced by that of Italy. Among the strophic forms used by the Italian poets, two especially have had an important share in the development of English metre: the sonnet and the canzone. Apart from those direct imitations which we shall have to notice later, the sonnet form tended to make more popular the use of enclosing rhymes, which had until then been only sparingly employed in English poetry; while the canzone with its varied combinations of anisometrical verses, mostly of eleven and seven syllables, gave rise to a variety of similar loosely constructed stanzas, as a rule, of three- and five-foot verses.
§ 287. Introductory remark. Right at the start of the Modern English period, English poetry was heavily influenced by Italian poetry. Among the rhythmic forms used by Italian poets, two, in particular, played a significant role in the evolution of English meter: the sonnet and the canzone. Besides the direct imitations that we will discuss later, the sonnet form made the use of enclosing rhymes more popular, which had previously been used sparingly in English poetry. Meanwhile, the canzone, with its various combinations of uneven verses, mostly of eleven and seven syllables, led to the creation of a range of loosely structured stanzas, typically made up of three- and five-foot verses.
At the same time, however, these Modern English stanzas of a somewhat loose structure were also affected by the stricter rules for the formation of stanzas which had come down from the Middle English period. Hence their structure frequently reminds us of the older forms, two adjoining parts being often closely related, either by order of rhymes, or by the structure of the verse, or by both together, though the old law of the equality of the two pedes or of the two versus is not quite strictly observed.
At the same time, though, these Modern English stanzas, which have a somewhat loose structure, were also influenced by the stricter rules for creating stanzas that were passed down from the Middle English period. As a result, their structure often resembles older forms, with two connected parts being closely linked, either by rhyme order, the verse structure, or both, even though the traditional rule about the equality of the two pedes or the two versus isn't always strictly followed.
This explains the fact that some stanzas (especially the shorter ones) have a structure similar to that of the old tripartite stanzas; while others (chiefly the longer ones) not unfrequently consist of four or even more parts.
This explains why some stanzas (especially the shorter ones) have a structure similar to the old tripartite stanzas, while others (mainly the longer ones) often consist of four or even more parts.
In the first group the chief interest centres round those which have enclosing rhymes in their first or last part. Although the transposition of the order of rhymes thus effected in the pedes or in the versus was common both in Northern French and Provençal poets,[196] the teachers of the Middle English poets, we find scarcely a single example of it in Middle English, and it seems to have become popular in Modern English only through the influence of the Italian sonnet.
In the first group, the main focus is on those that have enclosing rhymes at the beginning or end. While switching the order of rhymes like this in the pedes or in the versus was common among Northern French and Provençal poets, and their teachings influenced the Middle English poets, we can hardly find any examples of it in Middle English. It seems to have gained popularity in Modern English mainly due to the influence of the Italian sonnet.
In accordance with the analogy of the isometrical stanzas or parts of stanzas this arrangement of rhymes is found also in the anisometrical ones; so that we have first parts (pedes) both on the scheme a b b a4, a b b a5 or a4 b b3 a4, a5 b4 b4 a5. From the arrangement of rhymes this order was transferred to the lines themselves; thus a stanza with enclosing rhymes consisting of two longer lines with a couplet of short lines between them, as in the last example, is transformed into a similar stanza with crossed rhymes according to the formula a5 b4 a4 b5, the shorter lines being, as before, placed between the longer ones (or vice versa a4 b5 a5 b4). It is evident that here too in spite of the regular arrangement of rhymes the two pedes are not alike, but only similar to each other.
According to the analogy of isometric stanzas or sections of stanzas, this rhyme arrangement is also found in anisometric ones; so that we have first parts (pedes) both in the scheme a b b a4, a b b a5, or a4 b b3 a4, a5 b4 b4 a5. This order was transferred from the arrangement of rhymes to the lines themselves; thus, a stanza with enclosing rhymes made up of two longer lines with a couplet of short lines in between, as in the last example, is changed into a similar stanza with crossed rhymes according to the formula a5 b4 a4 b5, the shorter lines being, as before, placed between the longer ones (or vice versa, a4 b5 a5 b4). It is clear that here too, despite the regular rhyme arrangement, the two pedes are not identical but only similar to each other.
For similar stanzas according to the formulas a b b a a b4, a b b a c c5, a b b a c3 c5 (Milton, Psalm IV), a b b a5 c4 c5, and a b b a c5 c3, see Metrik, ii, § 456.
For similar stanzas following the patterns a b b a a b4, a b b a c c5, a b b a c3 c5 (Milton, Psalm IV), a b b a5 c4 c5, and a b b a c5 c3, refer to Metrik, ii, § 456.
Other stanzas have anisometrical first and last parts; as e.g. one on the model a5 b b4 a5 c4 c3 which was used by Cowley, Upon the shortness of Man’s Life (Poets, v. 227):
Other stanzas have uneven first and last parts; for example, one following the pattern a5 b b4 a5 c4 c3 which was used by Cowley, Upon the shortness of Man’s Life (Poets, v. 227):
Similar stanzas are found in later poets, as e.g. Mrs. Hemans, D. G. Rossetti, Mrs. Browning, corresponding to a5 b b4 a5 c4 c5, a3 b b5 a3 c c5, a5 b b3 a4 c5 c3, a3 b4 b5 a4 b5 a3, a b3 b4 a3 c c4, &c. (For specimen see Metrik, ii, § 458.)
Similar stanzas appear in later poets, such as Mrs. Hemans, D. G. Rossetti, and Mrs. Browning, corresponding to a5 b b4 a5 c4 c5, a3 b b5 a3 c c5, a5 b b3 a4 c5 c3, a3 b4 b5 a4 b5 a3, a b3 b4 a3 c c4, &c. (For example see Metrik, ii, § 458.)
Even more frequently we have stanzas of three quite heterogeneous parts; the lines rhyming crosswise, parallel, or crosswise and parallel. They occur both in the earlier poets (Cowley, Herbert, &c.) and in those of recent times (Southey, Wordsworth, Shelley, the Brownings, Swinburne, &c.). A song by Suckling (Poets, iii. 730) on the scheme a3 a b b2 c c4 may serve as an example:
Even more often, we have stanzas made up of three very different parts; the lines can rhyme in various ways—crosswise, parallel, or both. This pattern appears in both earlier poets (like Cowley, Herbert, etc.) and more recent ones (such as Southey, Wordsworth, Shelley, the Brownings, Swinburne, etc.). A song by Suckling (Poets, iii. 730) that follows the scheme a3 a b b2 c c4 serves as an example:
For an account of other stanzas of a similar structure (e.g. a a5 b b4 c c3, a a4 b b c3 c5, a5 a3 b b c4 c5, a2 a b b c4 c1, &c.) see Metrik, ii, §459.
For information about other stanzas with a similar structure (e.g. a a5 b b4 c c3, a a4 b b c3 c5, a5 a3 b b c4 c5, a2 a b b c4 c1, &c.) see Metrik, ii, §459.
Very often we find stanzas of combined crossed and parallel rhymes; one e.g. on the model a b a5 b6 c c5 in Shelley, A Summer-Evening Churchyard (i. 160):
Very often we come across stanzas featuring a mix of crossed and parallel rhymes; for example, based on the pattern a b a5 b6 c c5 in Shelley, A Summer-Evening Churchyard (i. 160):
Many stanzas of a similar kind correspond to the schemes a a4 b c2 b4 c3, a4 b3 a b c c4, a3 b5 a b4 c5 c4, a b a5 b c c4, a5 a b c c b4 c5, a4 b ~2 a a4 b ~a4, a5 b3 a b c5 c3, and a b c c a4 b3; for specimens see Metrik, ii, §§ 460–3.
Many stanzas of a similar type match the patterns a a4 b c2 b4 c3, a4 b3 a b c c4, a3 b5 a b4 c5 c4, a b a5 b c c4, a5 a b c c b4 c5, a4 b ~2 a a4 b ~a4, a5 b3 a b c5 c3, and a b c c a4 b3; for examples, see Metrik, ii, §§ 460–3.
Stanzas consisting of shorter lines are not so often met with; we have an example (on the model a b a2 b c4 c3) consisting of iambic-anapaestic verses in R. Browning, On the Cliff (vi. 48):
Stanzas made up of shorter lines aren't as common; we have an example (following the model a b a2 b c4 c3) featuring iambic-anapaestic verses in R. Browning, On the Cliff (vi. 48):
For stanzas on the schemes a4 b1 a4 b2 C D2, a b a4 c3 c b2 see ibid. § 464
For stanzas with the patterns a4 b1 a4 b2 C D2, a b a4 c3 c b2 refer to ibid. § 464
§ 289. Among seven-line stanzas, both in earlier (Ph. Fletcher, S. Daniel, &c.) and more recent poets (Mrs. Browning, Swinburne, R. Browning, D.G. Rossetti), those which are entirely isometrical occur often. One on the model a b b a b b a5 is met with in S. Daniel’s Epistle to the Angel Spirit of the most excellent Sir Philip Sidney (Poets, iii. 228):
§ 289. In seven-line stanzas, both from earlier poets (Ph. Fletcher, S. Daniel, etc.) and more recent ones (Mrs. Browning, Swinburne, R. Browning, D.G. Rossetti), those that are completely isometrical appear frequently. One following the model a b b a b b a5 is found in S. Daniel’s Epistle to the Angel Spirit of the most excellent Sir Philip Sidney (Poets, iii. 228):
Specimens of stanzas on the schemes a b b a c c c4, a b b a b b a4, a b b a a c c3, a b b a a c c5, a b b a c c a5, and a b c c d d d4, are given in Metrik, ii, §456.
Specimens of stanzas using the patterns a b b a c c c4, a b b a b b a4, a b b a a c c3, a b b a a c c5, a b b a c c a5, and a b c c d d d4, are provided in Metrik, ii, §456.
Anisometrical stanzas on the model a b b a in the first part occur only in single examples, one corresponding to the scheme a b b a4 b2 c c4 found in Milton, Arcades, Song I; and another of the form a3 b b5 a3 c c a5 in Mrs. Hemans, The Festal Hour (ii. 247); cf. Metrik, ii, § 466.
Anisometrical stanzas following the pattern a b b a in the first part appear only as single instances, one matching the structure a b b a4 b2 c c4 found in Milton, Arcades, Song I; and another in the format a3 b b5 a3 c c a5 from Mrs. Hemans, The Festal Hour (ii. 247); see also Metrik, ii, § 466.
Sometimes quite anisometrical stanzas with parallel rhymes occur, especially in the earlier poets, as e.g. in Wyatt, Suckling, Cowley; a stanza of Cowley’s poem, The Thief (Poets, v. 263), has the formula a5 a b b c c4 c5:
Sometimes, there are stanzas that don't have equal line lengths but still have parallel rhymes, especially in the works of earlier poets like Wyatt, Suckling, and Cowley. For example, a stanza from Cowley’s poem, The Thief (Poets, v. 263), follows the pattern a5 a b b c c4 c5:
Other forms of a similar structure are a a3 b b2 a a3 B4, a4 a b b3 c c4 x3, a4 a b5 b c c4 c5, a5 a a b b4 c c3; for examples see Metrik, ii, §467.
Other forms with a similar structure are a a3 b b2 a a3 B4, a4 a b b3 c c4 x3, a4 a b5 b c c4 c5, a5 a a b b4 c c3; for examples see Metrik, ii, §467.
Other similar stanzas correspond to a4 b a5 b4 c3 c4 c5, a3 b a4 b2 c c c5, a5 b a4 b5 c4 c c5, a5 b c c b a4 a5, a b a4 b3 b5 a4 b3, and a b a3 b4 c3 c2 c4; for examples taken from older poets (Donne, Carew, Cowley) and from later literature (Longfellow, D. G. Rossetti) cf. Metrik, ii, § 468.
Other similar stanzas correspond to a4 b a5 b4 c3 c4 c5, a3 b a4 b2 c c c5, a5 b a4 b5 c4 c c5, a5 b c c b a4 a5, a b a4 b3 b5 a4 b3, and a b a3 b4 c3 c2 c4; for examples taken from older poets (Donne, Carew, Cowley) and from later literature (Longfellow, D. G. Rossetti) see Metrik, ii, § 468.
Several other stanza-forms remind us by their structure and arrangement of rhymes of certain shortened forms of the tail-rhyme stanza, e.g. one in A Parting Song by Mrs. Hemans (vi. 189), on the scheme A4 B3 c c d d4 B2:
Several other stanza forms remind us of certain shortened versions of the tail-rhyme stanza because of their structure and rhyme arrangement, like the one in A Parting Song by Mrs. Hemans (vi. 189), which follows the scheme A4 B3 c c d d4 B2:
Similar stanzas corresponding to the formulas a b4 a a3 b a4 a3, a4 b3 a a4 b3 c c4, a a b a5 b a a2 are quoted in Metrik, ii, § 469
Similar stanzas matching the formulas a b4 a a3 b a4 a3, a4 b3 a a4 b3 c c4, a a b a5 b a a2 are referenced in Metrik, ii, § 469
Stanzas of this kind, used especially by Cowley, correspond to a a5 b3 c c4 b3 d d4, a5 a4 b4 c5 c5 b4 d4 d5, a5 a b c c b4 d d5, and a a5 b4 c c b5 d4 d5 (cf. Metrik, ii, § 470).
Stanzas like these, especially used by Cowley, match a a5 b3 c c4 b3 d d4, a5 a4 b4 c5 c5 b4 d4 d5, a5 a b c c b4 d d5, and a a5 b4 c c b5 d4 d5 (see Metrik, ii, § 470).
The half-stanzas (pedes) are separated by the cauda in a stanza on the scheme a a4 b5 c c d d4 b3, which occurs in Wordsworth, The Pilgrim’s Dream (vi. 153):
The half-stanzas (pedes) are divided by the cauda in a stanza following the pattern a a4 b5 c c d d4 b3, which can be found in Wordsworth, The Pilgrim’s Dream (vi. 153):
In other stanzas on the models a4 b2 a b c c c4 b2, a ~ b a ~4 b3 c ~ c ~ c ~4 b2, a4 b2 a4 c c2 d d4 b2, and a4 B ~2 a a4 C ~2 D3 D4, only a half-stanza of the tail-rhyme form can be recognized (cf. Metrik, ii, §475).
In other stanzas using the patterns a4 b2 a b c c c4 b2, a ~ b a ~4 b3 c ~ c ~ c ~4 b2, a4 b2 a4 c c2 d d4 b2, and a4 B ~2 a a4 C ~2 D3 D4, only a half-stanza of the tail-rhyme form can be identified (see Metrik, ii, §475).
Other stanzas correspond to the schemes a a5 . b b c c3 . d ~ d ~4, a5 a3 a4 . b b4 . c c4 c5, a b5 b3 . a4 a . c c c5, a3 a . b c b c . d d5, a a4 . b4 c ~ c ~2 . d d2 b4, and a5 a2 . b b5 . c c c5 c2. All these forms are met with in earlier poets, as e.g. Donne, Drayton, and Cowley; for specimen see Metrik, ii, § 471
Other stanzas follow the patterns a a5 . b b c c3 . d ~ d ~4, a5 a3 a4 . b b4 . c c4 c5, a b5 b3 . a4 a . c c c5, a3 a . b c b c . d d5, a a4 . b4 c ~ c ~2 . d d2 b4, and a5 a2 . b b5 . c c c5 c2. All these forms appear in earlier poets, such as Donne, Drayton, and Cowley; for examples see Metrik, ii, § 471.
For stanzas of different structure on similar models cf. Metrik, ii, § 472 (a5 a b3 b c5 d3 c2 d4, a5 a b2 b c5 c2 d4 d5, a5 a3 b b5 c c4 d d5, a b a4 b5 c c4 d d5, a a5 b b c d c4 d5, and a4 b5 a4 b3 c d4 c2 d4).
For stanzas of different structure based on similar patterns, see Metrik, ii, § 472 (a5 a b3 b c5 d3 c2 d4, a5 a b2 b c5 c2 d4 d5, a5 a3 b b5 c c4 d d5, a b a4 b5 c c4 d d5, a a5 b b c d c4 d5, and a4 b5 a4 b3 c d4 c2 d4).
There are other stanzas of this kind which occur in earlier poets, as e. g. Donne, Cowley, and Dryden, or in some of those of later date, as Southey, R. Browning, and Rossetti, one half-stanza having enclosing rhymes and the whole stanza partaking of a tripartite structure. We find, e.g. the form A b b a c d c4 d3 in D. G. Rossetti, A Little While (i. 245):
There are other stanzas like this found in earlier poets, such as Donne, Cowley, and Dryden, or in some later ones like Southey, R. Browning, and Rossetti. One half-stanza has enclosing rhymes, and the whole stanza has a three-part structure. For example, we see the form A b b a c d c4 d3 in D. G. Rossetti's A Little While (i. 245):
Other similar stanzas correspond to the formulas a a b5 b4 c5 d d4 c5, a5 b b4 a5 c c4 d d5, a4 b b2 a c4 d d2 c3, and a5 b3 a b5 c3 d d5 c3; for examples see Metrik, ii, § 474. Stanzas on the model a ~ b c a ~ c4 B2 d4 D2, or on a b c ~2 d d a b c ~4, are found only in single examples (cf. Metrik, ii, § 476)
Other similar stanzas align with the patterns a a b5 b4 c5 d d4 c5, a5 b b4 a5 c c4 d d5, a4 b b2 a c4 d d2 c3, and a5 b3 a b5 c3 d d5 c3; for examples, see Metrik, ii, § 474. Stanzas based on the model a ~ b c a ~ c4 B2 d4 D2, or on a b c ~2 d d a b c ~4, appear only in single instances (cf. Metrik, ii, § 476).
§ 292. The most important of the Modern English eight-lined stanzas, however, is an isometrical one on a foreign model, viz. a stanza of hendecasyllabic or rather five-foot verses corresponding to the Italian ottava rima, on the scheme a b a b a b c c. This stanza, which has always been very popular in Italian poetry, was introduced into English by Wyatt and Surrey; in Surrey we have only an isolated specimen, in To his Mistress (p. 32):
§ 292. The most important of the modern English eight-lined stanzas is an isometrical one based on a foreign model, specifically a stanza of hendecasyllabic or rather five-foot verses that corresponds to the Italian ottava rima, following the pattern a b a b a b c c. This stanza, which has always been quite popular in Italian poetry, was brought into English by Wyatt and Surrey; in Surrey's work, we only find a single example in To his Mistress (p. 32):
The stanza was often used by Wyatt, Sidney, and Spenser for reflective poems, and by Drayton and Daniel for epic poems of some length. In modern literature it has been used by Frere, Byron (Beppo, Don Juan), Shelley, Keats, Wordsworth, Longfellow, and others (cf. Metrik, ii, § 579).
The stanza was frequently employed by Wyatt, Sidney, and Spenser for reflective poems, and by Drayton and Daniel for longer epic poems. In modern literature, it has been utilized by Frere, Byron (Beppo, Don Juan), Shelley, Keats, Wordsworth, Longfellow, and others (see Metrik, ii, § 579).
§ 293. Stanzas of nine lines either show a combination of parallel with crossed or enclosing rhymes, as in the forms a a b c b c d d d4, a5 b a4 b5 b5 c4 c5 d d5 (Rhyme-Royal + rhyming couplet), a b5 b a4 c3 c c d d5, a4 a b b5 c4 c5 d4 d d5, a4 b a3 c4 b3 d b c4 D1 &c. (for specimens see Metrik, ii, §§ 477 and 479), or, in some of the later poets, they consist of parts of modified tail-rhyme stanzas combined with other forms, as in the following stanza (a ~3 b4 a ~ b3 c c2 d3 a ~ d3) of a song by Moore:
§ 293. Stanzas of nine lines either present a mix of regular and crossed or enclosing rhymes, as seen in the patterns a a b c b c d d d4, a5 b a4 b5 b5 c4 c5 d d5 (Rhyme-Royal + rhyming couplet), a b5 b a4 c3 c c d d5, a4 a b b5 c4 c5 d4 d d5, a4 b a3 c4 b3 d b c4 D1 &c. (for examples, see Metrik, ii, §§ 477 and 479), or, in some of the later poets, they consist of parts of modified tail-rhyme stanzas mixed with other forms, as in the following stanza (a ~3 b4 a ~ b3 c c2 d3 a ~ d3) from a song by Moore:
Other stanzas of Moore and others have the formulas a a b a b c c c4 d3 (Burns, p. 216), a b ~ a a4 b ~3 c d d4 c3, a a b4 c2 b4 c2 d d4 c2, a4 b3 a a4 c ~3 c ~ d ~ d ~2 b3 &c. (cf. Metrik, ii, § 478)
Other stanzas by Moore and others have the patterns a a b a b c c c4 d3 (Burns, p. 216), a b ~ a a4 b ~3 c d d4 c3, a a b4 c2 b4 c2 d d4 c2, a4 b3 a a4 c ~3 c ~ d ~ d ~2 b3 &c. (cf. Metrik, ii, § 478)
Similar stanzas occurring in the works of earlier poets, as Sidney and Spenser, correspond to the schemes a6 b a b b5 c c4 d2 b5 d2, a5 a2 b ~ c b ~ c D ~ D ~ E E3, &c. But generally speaking most of the earlier poets, as e.g. Donne, Cowley, and Suckling, prefer a simpler order of rhymes, the schemes being a a3 b b . c5 c c4 . d d d5, a4 a b b5 c c4 d d e e5, a5 a a2 b b c d d3 e e5, &c.; the more modern poets (Moore, Wordsworth, Swinburne), on the other hand, are fond of somewhat more complicated forms, as a4 b ~ b ~2 a a4 c ~ c ~2 d a d4, a b a4 b3 c c5 d e3 d4 e3, a b b4 a3 c d d e d4 d3, &c. (For specimens cf. Metrik, ii, §§ 480, 481.) A fine form of stanza corresponding to the formula a b c b c5 a3 d e e d5 is used by M. Arnold in his poem The Scholar Gipsy, and another on the scheme a a3 b c c b5 d3 e d e5 in Westminster Abbey, p. 479.
Similar stanzas found in earlier poets like Sidney and Spenser match the rhyme schemes a6 b a b b5 c c4 d2 b5 d2, a5 a2 b ~ c b ~ c D ~ D ~ E E3, etc. However, most earlier poets, like Donne, Cowley, and Suckling, prefer simpler rhyming patterns, utilizing schemes like a a3 b b . c5 c c4 . d d d5, a4 a b b5 c c4 d d e e5, a5 a a2 b b c d d3 e e5, etc. In contrast, more modern poets (Moore, Wordsworth, Swinburne) tend to use more complex forms, such as a4 b ~ b ~2 a a4 c ~ c ~2 d a d4, a b a4 b3 c c5 d e3 d4 e3, a b b4 a3 c d d e d4 d3, etc. (For examples, see Metrik, ii, §§ 480, 481.) A notable stanza form that follows the pattern a b c b c5 a3 d e e d5 is used by M. Arnold in his poem The Scholar Gipsy, and another scheme a a3 b c c b5 d3 e d e5 appears in Westminster Abbey, p. 479.
§ 295. Stanzas of eleven lines do not frequently occur in earlier poetry, and for the most part simple forms are employed, e.g. a b4 a b c d5 c d4 e e5 e4, a5 a b4 b5 c4 d3 c4 d3 e e4 e5, a a b b4 c3 d5 d3 c e e e5, &c.; the more recent poets, however, as Moore, Wordsworth, and R. Browning, have usually preferred a more intricate arrangement, as a ~ b c ~ d d a ~ b c ~2 e e e4, a b c4 b3 d e f f4 e3 g g4, a4 b3 a b c4 d3 c4 d3 e2 e3 e4. The last scheme occurs in a song by Moore:
§ 295. Stanzas of eleven lines are not very common in older poetry, which mostly uses simpler forms, like a b4 a b c d5 c d4 e e5 e4, a5 a b4 b5 c4 d3 c4 d3 e e4 e5, a a b b4 c3 d5 d3 c e e e5, &c.; however, more recent poets like Moore, Wordsworth, and R. Browning usually prefer a more complex arrangement, such as a ~ b c ~ d d a ~ b c ~2 e e e4, a b c4 b3 d e f f4 e3 g g4, a4 b3 a b c4 d3 c4 d3 e2 e3 e4. The last pattern can be found in a song by Moore:
§ 296. Stanzas of twelve lines are more frequent, possibly on account of the symmetrical arrangement of the stanza in equal parts, twelve being divisible by three. They are constructed on different models, e.g. a a5 b3 b a5 c3 d5 d c4 c5 e e5, a a4 b ~ b ~ c3 c2 d3 d2 e f3 f1 e3, a4 b2 b1 a3 c ~4 d ~4 c ~2 e ~ e ~ f ~ f ~3 (bob-verse stanzas), a b4 c ~ c ~2 a4 b3 d d e4 f2 f4 e5, &c., occurring in earlier poets, such as Donne, Browne, Dryden, &c. Similar stanzas, partly of a simpler structure (a b b a5 a6 c c4 b5 d d e4 e5,a ~ b a ~ b3 c c4 d d3 e ~ f3 e ~ f2, and a a4 b2 c c4 b1 b4 a2 D E ~ F E4 ~), are found in modern poetry; the last scheme, resembling the tail-rhyme stanza, occurring in Tennyson (p. 12):
§ 296. Stanzas of twelve lines are more common, possibly because the stanza is symmetrically arranged in equal parts, since twelve can be divided by three. They are created using different patterns, such as a a5 b3 b a5 c3 d5 d c4 c5 e e5, a a4 b ~ b ~ c3 c2 d3 d2 e f3 f1 e3, a4 b2 b1 a3 c ~4 d ~4 c ~2 e ~ e ~ f ~ f ~3 (bob-verse stanzas), a b4 c ~ c ~2 a4 b3 d d e4 f2 f4 e5, etc., found in earlier poets like Donne, Browne, Dryden, etc. Similar stanzas, some with simpler structures (a b b a5 a6 c c4 b5 d d e4 e5,a ~ b a ~ b3 c c4 d d3 e ~ f3 e ~ f2, and a a4 b2 c c4 b1 b4 a2 D E ~ F E4 ~), are seen in modern poetry; the last pattern, similar to the tail-rhyme stanza, appears in Tennyson (p. 12):
Many other examples are quoted in Metrik, ii, §§ 484–6. For several stanzas of a still greater extent, but of rare occurrence, which need not be mentioned in this handbook, see ibid., §§ 487–90.
Many other examples are mentioned in Metrik, ii, §§ 484–6. For several stanzas that are even longer but more uncommon, which don’t need to be included in this handbook, see ibid., §§ 487–90.
CHAPTER VII
THE SPENSERIAN STANZA AND RELATED FORMS
§ 297. One of the most important Modern English stanzas is the Spenserian, so called after its inventor. This stanza, like the forms discussed in the last chapter, but in a still greater degree, is based on an older type. For it is not, as is sometimes said, derived from the Italian ottava rima (cf. § 292), but, as was pointed out by Guest (ii. 389), from a Middle English eight-lined popular stanza of five-foot verses with rhymes on the formula a b a b b c b c, which was modelled in its turn on a well-known Old French ballade-stanza (cf. § 269). To this stanza Spenser added a ninth verse of six feet rhyming with the eighth line, an addition which was evidently meant to give a very distinct and impressive conclusion to the stanza.
§ 297. One of the most significant modern English stanzas is the Spenserian, named after its creator. This stanza, like the forms discussed in the previous chapter, is even more rooted in an earlier style. It's not, as some claim, derived from the Italian ottava rima (cf. § 292), but, as Guest pointed out (ii. 389), from a Middle English eight-line popular stanza of five-foot verses with rhymes following the pattern a b a b b c b c, which was modeled after a well-known Old French ballade stanza (cf. § 269). Spenser added a ninth line of six feet that rhymes with the eighth line, a change designed to provide a clear and impactful ending to the stanza.
As a specimen the first stanza of the first book of the Faerie Queene, where it was used for the first time, may be quoted here:
As an example, the first stanza of the first book of the Faerie Queene, where it was used for the first time, can be quoted here:
This euphonious stanza became very popular and has been used by many of the chief Modern English poets, as e.g. by Thomson, The Castle of Indolence; Shenstone, The School-Mistress; Burns, The Cotter’s Saturday Night; Byron, Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage; Shelley, The Revolt of Islam.
This beautiful stanza became quite popular and has been used by many of the leading Modern English poets, such as Thomson in The Castle of Indolence; Shenstone in The School-Mistress; Burns in The Cotter’s Saturday Night; Byron in Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage; and Shelley in The Revolt of Islam.
The great influence it had on the development of the different forms of stanza, especially in the earlier Modern English period, is proved by the numerous imitations and analogous formations which arose from it.
The significant impact it had on the evolution of various stanza forms, particularly in the early Modern English period, is demonstrated by the many imitations and similar structures that emerged from it.
John Donne, Phineas Fletcher, and Giles Fletcher were, it seems, the inventors of those varieties of stanza, the shortest of which consist of three or four lines on the schemes a a5 a6, a b a5 b6, and were used by Rochester, Upon Nothing (Poets, iv. 413), and Cowper (p. 406). A stanza of five lines, however, on the model a b a b5 b6 occurs in Phineas Fletcher’s Eclogue II.
John Donne, Phineas Fletcher, and Giles Fletcher seem to be the creators of various types of stanzas, the shortest of which consist of three or four lines following the patterns a a5 a6 and a b a5 b6. These patterns were used by Rochester in Upon Nothing (Poets, iv. 413) and Cowper (p. 406). However, a five-line stanza, modeled after a b a b5 b6, can be found in Phineas Fletcher’s Eclogue II.
The favourite six-lined stanza with the formula a b a b c c5 (cf. § 267, p. 327) was often transformed into a quasi-Spenserian stanza a b a b c5 c6 by adding one foot to the last line, as e.g. by Dodsley in On the Death of Mr. Pope (Poets, xi. 103), Southey, The Chapel Bell (ii. 143), and others; cf. Metrik, ii, § 493.
The favorite six-line stanza with the pattern a b a b c c5 (see § 267, p. 327) was often altered into a quasi-Spenserian stanza a b a b c5 c6 by adding one foot to the last line, for example, by Dodsley in On the Death of Mr. Pope (Poets, xi. 103), Southey, The Chapel Bell (ii. 143), and others; see Metrik, ii, § 493.
It was changed into a stanza of seven lines on the scheme a b a b c c5 c6 by Donne, The Good Morrow (Poets, iv. 24) by the addition of a seventh line rhyming with the two preceding lines.
It was transformed into a seven-line stanza with the pattern a b a b c c5 c6 by Donne in The Good Morrow (Poets, iv. 24) by adding a seventh line that rhymes with the two lines before it.
Much more artistic taste is shown by the transformation of the seven-lined rhyme royal stanza a b a b b c c5 (cf. § 268) into a quasi-Spenserian stanza a b a b b c5 c6 in Milton’s On the Death of a Fair Infant.
Much more artistic taste is shown by the transformation of the seven-lined rhyme royal stanza a b a b b c c5 (cf. § 268) into a quasi-Spenserian stanza a b a b b c5 c6 in Milton’s On the Death of a Fair Infant.
By the addition of a new line rhyming with the last couplet this form was developed into the eight-lined stanza a b a b b c c5 c6 employed in Giles Fletcher’s Christ’s Victory and Triumph.
By adding a new line that rhymes with the last couplet, this form evolved into the eight-line stanza a b a b b c c5 c6 used in Giles Fletcher’s Christ’s Victory and Triumph.
Omitting some rarer forms (cf. Metrik, ii, § 495) we may mention that Phineas Fletcher transformed the ottava rima a b a b a b c c5 into a quasi-Spenserian stanza of the form a b a b a b c5 c6, and that he also extended the same stanza to one of nine lines (a b a b a b c c5 c6) by adding one verse more. Other nine-line quasi-Spenserian stanzas occurring occasionally in modern poets, e.g. Mrs. Hemans, Shelley, and Wordsworth, correspond to a b a a b b c c5 c6, a b a b c d c d5 d6, a b a b c c b d5 d6, a a b b c c d d5 d6. (For specimens see Metrik, ii, § 496.) A stanza of ten lines on the scheme a b a b c d c d e5 e6 was invented by Prior for his Ode to the Queen (Poets, vii. 440); but it is not, as he thought, an improved, but only a simplified form of the old Spenserian scheme:
Omitting some less common forms (see Metrik, ii, § 495), we can note that Phineas Fletcher changed the ottava rima a b a b a b c c5 into a nearly Spenserian stanza of the pattern a b a b a b c5 c6, and he also expanded the same stanza to nine lines (a b a b a b c c5 c6) by adding one more line. Other nine-line nearly Spenserian stanzas found occasionally in modern poets, like Mrs. Hemans, Shelley, and Wordsworth, correspond to a b a a b b c c5 c6, a b a b c d c d5 d6, a b a b c c b d5 d6, a a b b c c d d5 d6. (For examples, see Metrik, ii, § 496.) A ten-line stanza with the pattern a b a b c d c d e5 e6 was created by Prior for his Ode to the Queen (Poets, vii. 440); however, it is not, as he believed, an improved version, but rather a simplified form of the traditional Spenserian pattern:
This stanza has been used by some subsequent poets, e.g. by Chatterton, who himself invented a similar imitation of the old Spenserian form, viz. a b a b b a b a c5 c6. Other stanzas of ten lines are a b a b b c d c d5 d6, a b b a c d d c e5 e6, a b a b c c d e e5 d6. (For specimens see Metrik, ii, § 497.) A stanza of eleven lines on the scheme a b a b c d c d c d5 d6 occurs in Wordsworth in the Cuckoo-clock (viii. 161)
This stanza has been used by some later poets, like Chatterton, who created a similar version of the old Spenserian form, namely a b a b b a b a c5 c6. Other ten-line stanzas include a b a b b c d c d5 d6, a b b a c d d c e5 e6, and a b a b c c d e e5 d6. (For examples, see Metrik, ii, § 497.) A stanza of eleven lines with the pattern a b a b c d c d c d5 d6 is found in Wordsworth’s Cuckoo-clock (viii. 161)
§ 299. Amongst the stanzaic formations analogous to the Spenserian stanza, which for the most part were invented by the poets just mentioned, two different groups are to be distinguished; firstly, stanzas the body of which consists of four-foot (seldom three-foot) verses, a six-foot final verse being added to them either immediately or preceded by a five-foot verse; secondly, stanzas of anisometrical structure in the principal part, the end-verse being of six or sometimes of seven feet.
§ 299. Among the stanzaic forms similar to the Spenserian stanza, mostly created by the poets mentioned earlier, we can identify two distinct groups; first, stanzas made up of four-foot (rarely three-foot) lines, with a six-foot final line added either directly after or preceded by a five-foot line; second, stanzas with uneven structures in the main part, where the final line is six or sometimes seven feet long.
The stanzas of the first group consist of four to ten lines, and have the following formulas: four-lined stanzas, a b c4 b6 (Wordsworth); five lines, a b a b3 b6 (Shelley); six lines, a b a a b3 b6 (Ben Jonson), a b a b4 c5 c6 (Wordsworth, Coleridge), a a3 b5 c c3 b6 (R. Browning); seven lines, a ~ b b a ~ c c4 c7 (Mrs. Browning); eight lines, a b a b c c d4 d6 (Gray, Wordsworth), a a b b c c d4 d6 (John Scott), a a b b c c4 d5 d6 (Coleridge); nine lines, a b a b c d c4 d5 c6 and a b a b c c d d4 d6 (Akenside), a b a b b c b c4 c6 (Shelley, Stanzas written in Dejection, i. 370); ten lines, a b a b c d c d4 e5 e6 (Whitehead).
The stanzas in the first group range from four to ten lines and follow these patterns: four-line stanzas, a b c4 b6 (Wordsworth); five lines, a b a b3 b6 (Shelley); six lines, a b a a b3 b6 (Ben Jonson), a b a b4 c5 c6 (Wordsworth, Coleridge), a a3 b5 c c3 b6 (R. Browning); seven lines, a ~ b b a ~ c c4 c7 (Mrs. Browning); eight lines, a b a b c c d4 d6 (Gray, Wordsworth), a a b b c c d4 d6 (John Scott), a a b b c c4 d5 d6 (Coleridge); nine lines, a b a b c d c4 d5 c6 and a b a b c c d d4 d6 (Akenside), a b a b b c b c4 c6 (Shelley, Stanzas written in Dejection, i. 370); ten lines, a b a b c d c d4 e5 e6 (Whitehead).
As an example we quote a stanza of nine lines from Shelley’s poem mentioned above:
As an example, we quote a nine-line stanza from the poem by Shelley mentioned above:
§ 300. Greater variety is found in the second group; they have an extent of four up to sixteen lines and mostly occur in poets of the sixteenth to eighteenth centuries (Donne, Ben Jonson, Cowley, Rowe, Akenside, &c.), rarely in the nineteenth century. Stanzas of four lines are, a5 a b4 b6 (Poets, v. 236), a a4 b5 b6 (ib. xi. 1207); of five lines, a5 a b3 b4 a6 (ib. v. 281), a b a5 b4 b6 (ib. ix. 312), &c.; of six lines, a4 b5 a4 b c5 c6 (ib. xi. 130), a4 b3 a4 b3 c5 c6 (ib. x. 722), a a4 b3 c c4 b6 (ib. xi. 1070; tail-rhyme stanza), a b5 a4 b c5 c6 (Tennyson, The Third of February); of seven lines, a3 b5 b3 a4 c c3 c6 (Poets, v. 413), a b a b5 b3 c5 c6 (Mrs. Hemans, Easter Day, vii. 165, with rhymes in the rhyme royal order; of eight lines, a a3 b5 c c3 b5 d4 d6 (Milton, Hymn on the Nativity, ii. 400; tail-rhyme + d4 d6), a5 b2 a b5 c3 d5 c3 d7 (Poets, iv. 36), a5 a4 b b5 c d c4 d6 (ib. v. 432), a b4 b c a5 d d4 c6 (ib. ix. 794), a b a b c5 c3 d5 d6, and a b5 a4 b3 c5 d4 d3 c6 (Wordsworth, Artegal and Elidure, vi. 47, and ’Tis said that some have died for love, ii. 184, beginning with the second stanza).
§ 300. The second group shows a greater variety; they range from four to sixteen lines and mostly appear in poets from the sixteenth to eighteenth centuries (Donne, Ben Jonson, Cowley, Rowe, Akenside, etc.), but are rare in the nineteenth century. Stanzas of four lines are, a5 a b4 b6 (Poets, v. 236), a a4 b5 b6 (ib. xi. 1207); of five lines, a5 a b3 b4 a6 (ib. v. 281), a b a5 b4 b6 (ib. ix. 312), etc.; of six lines, a4 b5 a4 b c5 c6 (ib. xi. 130), a4 b3 a4 b3 c5 c6 (ib. x. 722), a a4 b3 c c4 b6 (ib. xi. 1070; tail-rhyme stanza), a b5 a4 b c5 c6 (Tennyson, The Third of February); of seven lines, a3 b5 b3 a4 c c3 c6 (Poets, v. 413), a b a b5 b3 c5 c6 (Mrs. Hemans, Easter Day, vii. 165, with rhymes in the rhyme royal order; of eight lines, a a3 b5 c c3 b5 d4 d6 (Milton, Hymn on the Nativity, ii. 400; tail-rhyme + d4 d6), a5 b2 a b5 c3 d5 c3 d7 (Poets, iv. 36), a5 a4 b b5 c d c4 d6 (ib. v. 432), a b4 b c a5 d d4 c6 (ib. ix. 794), a b a b c5 c3 d5 d6, and a b5 a4 b3 c5 d4 d3 c6 (Wordsworth, Artegal and Elidure, vi. 47, and ’Tis said that some have died for love, ii. 184, starting with the second stanza).
The following stanza from the last-mentioned poem may serve as a specimen:
The following stanza from the previously mentioned poem can be an example:
Stanzas of nine lines, especially occurring in Donne, have the formulas a b b5 a3 c c c4 d5 d6 (Poets, iv. 29), a a b b c5 c d4 d5 d7 (ib. 36), a2 b b a5 c c2 d d5 d7 (ib. 31), a a b b b5 c d d4 c6 (ib. vii. 142), &c.; of ten lines, a a4 b b c c5 d4 d d5 d6 (ib. iv. 28), a a b c c4 b2 d e d5 e6 (ib. ix. 788), a b a b5 c c d d4 e5 e6 (Shelley, Phantasm of Jupiter in Prometheus Unbound); of twelve lines, a b a b5 c c d d e e5 f5 f6 (Poets, xi. 588); of thirteen lines, a b ~4 a5 b ~3 c4 c5 d d2 e5 e2 f5 e2 f6 (Ben Jonson, Ode to James, Earl of Desmond, ib. iv. 572); of fifteen lines, a b a b c5 d d4 d6 c e c e d f5 f6 (Shelley, Ode to Liberty, i. 360–9); of sixteen lines, a b a b a b a b5 c c3 b5 d d3 b5 e4 e6 (Swinburne, New-Year Ode to Victor Hugo (Midsummer Holiday, pp. 39–63).
Stanzas of nine lines, particularly found in Donne, follow the patterns a b b5 a3 c c c4 d5 d6 (Poets, iv. 29), a a b b c5 c d4 d5 d7 (ib. 36), a2 b b a5 c c2 d d5 d7 (ib. 31), a a b b b5 c d d4 c6 (ib. vii. 142), etc.; for ten lines, a a4 b b c c5 d4 d d5 d6 (ib. iv. 28), a a b c c4 b2 d e d5 e6 (ib. ix. 788), a b a b5 c c d d4 e5 e6 (Shelley, Phantasm of Jupiter in Prometheus Unbound); for twelve lines, a b a b5 c c d d e e5 f5 f6 (Poets, xi. 588); for thirteen lines, a b ~4 a5 b ~3 c4 c5 d d2 e5 e2 f5 e2 f6 (Ben Jonson, Ode to James, Earl of Desmond, ib. iv. 572); for fifteen lines, a b a b c5 d d4 d6 c e c e d f5 f6 (Shelley, Ode to Liberty, i. 360–9); for sixteen lines, a b a b a b a b5 c c3 b5 d d3 b5 e4 e6 (Swinburne, New-Year Ode to Victor Hugo (Midsummer Holiday, pp. 39–63).
The three stanzas last quoted, as well as some of the shorter ones occurring in Akenside, Rowe, &c., were also used for odes, and in this way the affinity of formations like these with the odic stanzas to be discussed in the next chapter becomes apparent.
The three stanzas just mentioned, along with some of the shorter ones found in Akenside, Rowe, etc., were also used for odes, highlighting the connection between these formations and the odes to be discussed in the next chapter.
CHAPTER VIII
THE EPITHALAMIUM STANZA AND OTHER ODIC STANZAS
§ 301. The Spenserian stanza stands in unmistakable connexion with Spenser’s highly artistic and elaborate Epithalamium stanza (Globe Ed. 587–91) inasmuch as the last line, That all the woods may answer and their echo ring, repeated in each stanza as a burden together with the word sing which ends the preceding verse, has six measures, the rest of the stanza consisting of three- and five-foot lines.
§ 301. The Spenserian stanza is clearly linked to Spenser’s highly artistic and complex Epithalamium stanza (Globe Ed. 587–91) since the last line, That all the woods may answer and their echo ring, which is repeated in each stanza as a refrain along with the word sing that finishes the previous line, has six measures, while the rest of the stanza includes three- and five-foot lines.
Like the Spenserian stanza, the Epithalamium stanza has given rise to numerous imitations.
Like the Spenserian stanza, the Epithalamium stanza has inspired many imitations.
It cannot be said that one fixed form of stanza is employed throughout the whole extent of Spenser’s Epithalamium. It rather consists of two main forms of stanza, viz. one of eighteen lines (st. i, ii, iv, v, vi, x, xvi, xxi, xxiii), and one of nineteen lines (st. iii, vii, viii, ix, xi, xii, xiii, xiv, xvii, xviii, xix, xx, xxii), whereas one stanza, the fifteenth, has only seventeen lines. In the arrangement of rhymes there are also sporadic varieties: cf. e.g. iv and ix.
It can't be said that one specific stanza form is used throughout Spenser's Epithalamium. Instead, it mainly consists of two primary stanza forms: one with eighteen lines (st. i, ii, iv, v, vi, x, xvi, xxi, xxiii), and another with nineteen lines (st. iii, vii, viii, ix, xi, xii, xiii, xiv, xvii, xviii, xix, xx, xxii), while one stanza, the fifteenth, has only seventeen lines. There are also occasional variations in the rhyme scheme: see, for example, iv and ix.
The arrangement of verse, however, is always similar in both groups. The main part of the stanza consists of five-foot verses, the succession of which is interrupted three times by three-foot ones, the final verse of the stanza having six measures. In the stanza of eighteen lines the usual arrangement is a b a b c5 c3 d c d e5 e3 f g g f5 g3 r5 R6. In those of nineteen lines it is a b a b c5 c3 d c d e5 e3 f g g f h5 h3 r5 R6. The scheme of the stanza of seventeen lines is a b a b c5 c3 d c d e f f g h5 h3 r5 R6.
The structure of the verses is always similar in both groups. The main part of the stanza is made up of five-foot verses, which are interrupted three times by three-foot verses, with the final verse of the stanza having six feet. In an eighteen-line stanza, the usual arrangement is a b a b c5 c3 d c d e5 e3 f g g f5 g3 r5 R6. In a nineteen-line stanza, it is a b a b c5 c3 d c d e5 e3 f g g f h5 h3 r5 R6. The pattern for a seventeen-line stanza is a b a b c5 c3 d c d e f f g h5 h3 r5 R6.
The two following stanzas (ii, iii) may be quoted as specimens of the two chief forms:
The next two stanzas (ii, iii) can be cited as examples of the two main forms:
These stanzas evidently consist of three or four unequal parts, the two first parts (ll. 1–6, 7–11) being connected by rhyme. There is a certain similarity between them, the chief difference being that the second pes, as we may call it, is shortened by one verse. With the third part, a new system of verses rhyming together commences, forming a kind of last part (downsong or cauda); and as the final couplet of the stanza is generally closely connected in sense with this, the assumption of a tripartite division of the stanza is preferable to that of a quadripartite division.
These stanzas clearly consist of three or four uneven parts, with the first two parts (lines 1–6, 7–11) linked by rhyme. They have a certain similarity, with the main difference being that the second pes, as we can call it, is shortened by one line. With the third part, a new rhyme scheme starts, creating a sort of final section (downsong or cauda); and since the last couplet of the stanza is usually closely related in meaning to this, it makes more sense to assume a three-part division of the stanza rather than a four-part one.
§ 302. Stanzas of this kind have also been used by later poets in similar poems. But all these imitations of the Epithalamium stanza are shorter than their model. As to their structure, some of them might also be ranked among the irregular Spenserian stanzas, as they agree with those in having a longer final verse of six or seven measures. But as a rule, they have—not to speak of the similarity of theme—the combination of three- and five-foot verses in the principal part, on the model, it seems, of Spenser’s Epithalamium stanza.
§ 302. Later poets have also used stanzas like this in similar poems. However, all these versions of the Epithalamium stanza are shorter than the original. In terms of structure, some could also be classified as irregular Spenserian stanzas, since they feature a longer final line of six or seven measures. Generally, they also display—aside from the similar theme—a mix of three- and five-foot lines in the main part, seemingly modeled after Spenser’s Epithalamium stanza.
Stanzas of this kind (eight lines up to fourteen) occur in Donne and Ben Jonson; the schemes being—
Stanzas like this (ranging from eight to fourteen lines) can be found in Donne and Ben Jonson; the patterns are—
For specimens see Metrik, ii, § 512.
For examples, see Metrik, ii, § 512.
Stanzas similar in subject and structure, but without the longer end-verse, may be treated here, as well as some odic stanzas similar in structure (9–18 lines) and in theme, occurring in earlier poets, as e.g. Sidney, Spenser, John Donne, Samuel Daniel, Ben Jonson, Drummond, and Milton. In Modern English poetry there are only some few examples of such stanzas to be met with in translations of Italian canzones; e.g. in Leigh Hunt. The schemes are as follows. Stanzas of nine lines, a b a b5 b c3 c5 d3 D5 (Sidney, Arcadia, p. 388); of ten lines, a a3 b5 b3 c5 c d d3 e e5 (Ben Jonson, Ode to himself, Poets, iv. 607); of eleven lines, a a4 b3 b4 c3 c5 D3 D2 E3 E2 d5 (ib. 611); of twelve lines, a2 b5 b2 a c c5 d d3 e5 f3 f5 e2 (ib. 572), a3 a b5 b3 c c5 d3 d e5 e3 f f5 (Drummond, ib. 664); of thirteen lines, a b3 a5 c b3 c5 c d e e3 d5 f3 f5 (Sidney, Arcadia, p. 394), a b3 c5 a b3 c5 c d e e3 d5 f3 f5 (S. Daniel, The Pastoral, Poets, iv. 225), agreeing in form with the eleventh of Petrarch’s canzones, Chiare, fresche e dolci acque, translated by Leigh Hunt (p. 394) on the scheme, a a3 b5 c c3 b5 b d d3 e4 e5 f4 f5; of fourteen lines, a b c b a c c5 d d3 c e5 f3 f2 e3 (Milton, Upon the Circumcision, ii. 408); of eighteen lines, a b b a5 a3 c d c d5 d3 e e f e5 f f3 G G5 (Spenser, Prothalamium, p. 605). For examples of these stanzas, partly formed on the model of the Italian canzones, see Metrik, ii, §§ 512–15
Stanzas that are similar in subject and structure, but without the longer end-verse, can be discussed here, along with some ode-like stanzas that share a similar structure (9–18 lines) and theme, found in earlier poets such as Sidney, Spenser, John Donne, Samuel Daniel, Ben Jonson, Drummond, and Milton. In modern English poetry, there are only a few examples of these stanzas in translations of Italian canzones, such as in Leigh Hunt's work. The schemes are as follows: Stanzas of nine lines, a b a b5 b c3 c5 d3 D5 (Sidney, Arcadia, p. 388); of ten lines, a a3 b5 b3 c5 c d d3 e e5 (Ben Jonson, Ode to himself, Poets, iv. 607); of eleven lines, a a4 b3 b4 c3 c5 D3 D2 E3 E2 d5 (ib. 611); of twelve lines, a2 b5 b2 a c c5 d d3 e5 f3 f5 e2 (ib. 572), a3 a b5 b3 c c5 d3 d e5 e3 f f5 (Drummond, ib. 664); of thirteen lines, a b3 a5 c b3 c5 c d e e3 d5 f3 f5 (Sidney, Arcadia, p. 394), a b3 c5 a b3 c5 c d e e3 d5 f3 f5 (S. Daniel, The Pastoral, Poets, iv. 225), matching the form of the eleventh of Petrarch’s canzones, Chiare, fresche e dolci acque, translated by Leigh Hunt (p. 394) following the scheme, a a3 b5 c c3 b5 b d d3 e4 e5 f4 f5; of fourteen lines, a b c b a c c5 d d3 c e5 f3 f2 e3 (Milton, Upon the Circumcision, ii. 408); of eighteen lines, a b b a5 a3 c d c d5 d3 e e f e5 f f3 G G5 (Spenser, Prothalamium, p. 605). For examples of these stanzas, partly modeled on the Italian canzones, see Metrik, ii, §§ 512–15
§ 303. The English odic stanzas have been influenced too, although only in a general way, by the anisometrical structure of the Greek odes. This, however, was only to a slight extent the case in the so-called Pindaric Odes, as the metres usually employed in them were essentially the same, and retained in their composition the same anisometrical character exhibited by the odic stanzas considered in the preceding paragraphs.
§ 303. The English odic stanzas have also been influenced, but only in a general sense, by the uneven structure of the Greek odes. However, this influence was only slight in the so-called Pindaric Odes, as the meters typically used in them were fundamentally the same and maintained the same uneven quality seen in the odic stanzas discussed in the previous paragraphs.
There are, however, two groups of Pindaric Odes, viz. Regular and Irregular, and it is chiefly the latter group to which the preceding remark refers.
There are, however, two groups of Pindaric Odes: Regular and Irregular, and it is mainly the latter group that the previous comment pertains to.
The irregular odes were possibly modelled on certain non-strophical poems or hymns, consisting of anisometrical verses throughout, with an entirely irregular system of rhymes. We have an example of them already in the poems of Donne, the inventor or imitator of some odic stanzas mentioned in the previous paragraph; it is in his poem The Dissolution (Poets, iv. 38) consisting of twenty-two rhyming verses of two to seven measures on the model
The irregular odes might have been inspired by some non-strophic poems or hymns that feature uneven verses throughout, with a completely random rhyme scheme. We already see an example of this in the works of Donne, who created or mimicked some of the odic stanzas mentioned earlier; it appears in his poem The Dissolution (Poets, iv. 38), which includes twenty-two rhyming verses ranging from two to seven lines following the model.
a3 b4 c5 d ~3 b4 a c5 d ~3 e4 e5 f3 f5 e5 g4 g5 h3 h4 i i5 k3 l2 l k5 k7.
a3 b4 c5 d ~3 b4 a c5 d ~3 e4 e5 f3 f5 e5 g4 g5 h3 h4 i i5 k3 l2 l k5 k7.
A similar form is found in Milton’s poems On Time (ii. 411) and At a Solemn Music (ii. 412). Other examples taken from later poets are quoted in Metrik, ii, § 523. M. Arnold’s poems The Voice (second half) (p. 36) and Stagirius (p. 38) likewise fall under this head.
A similar style appears in Milton’s poems On Time (ii. 411) and At a Solemn Music (ii. 412). Other examples from later poets are referenced in Metrik, ii, § 523. M. Arnold’s poems The Voice (second half) (p. 36) and Stagirius (p. 38) also fit this category.
To the combined influence of the earlier somewhat lengthy unstrophical odes on the one hand, and of the shorter, strophical ones also composed of anisometrical verses on the other, we have possibly to trace the particular odic form which was used by Cowley when he translated, or rather paraphrased, the Odes of Pindar. Owing to Cowley’s popularity, this form came much into fashion afterwards through his numerous imitators, and it is much in vogue even at the present day.
To the combined influence of the earlier, somewhat lengthy, unstructured odes on one side, and the shorter, structured ones made up of uneven verses on the other, we might trace the specific ode style that Cowley used when he translated, or rather paraphrased, Pindar's Odes. Because of Cowley’s popularity, this style became very popular afterwards through his many imitators, and it remains quite popular even today.
The characteristic features of Cowley’s free renderings and imitations of Pindar’s odes are, in the first place, that he dealt very freely with the matter of his Greek original, giving only the general sense with arbitrary omissions and additions; and, in the second place, he paid no attention to the characteristic strophic structure of the original, which is a system of stanzas recurring in the same order till the end of the poem, and consisting of two stanzas of identical form, the strophe and antistrophe, followed by a third, the epode, entirely differing from the two others in structure. In this respect Cowley did not even attempt to imitate the original poems, the metres of which were very imperfectly understood till long after his time.
The main features of Cowley’s free adaptations and interpretations of Pindar’s odes are, first, that he took considerable liberties with the content of the Greek original, providing only the general meaning while making arbitrary omissions and additions; and second, he disregarded the typical strophic structure of the original, which is a system of stanzas that repeat in the same order throughout the poem, consisting of two stanzas of the same form, the strophe and antistrophe, followed by a third, the epode, which is completely different in structure. In this regard, Cowley didn’t even try to replicate the original poems, the meters of which were not well understood until well after his time.
Hence there is a very great difference between the originals and the English translations of Cowley, a difference which is clear even to the eye from the inequality of the number of stanzas and the number of verses in them.
Hence, there is a significant difference between the originals and the English translations of Cowley, a difference that is obvious even visually from the unequal number of stanzas and verses in them.
§ 304. The first Nemean ode, e.g. consists of four equal parts, each one being formed of a strophe and antistrophe of seven lines, and of a four-lined epode; twelve stanzas in all. Cowley’s translation, on the other hand, has only nine stanzas, each of an entirely different structure, their schemes being as follows:
§ 304. The first Nemean ode, for example, consists of four equal parts, each made up of a strophe and antistrophe of seven lines, along with a four-line epode; that's twelve stanzas in total. In contrast, Cowley's translation contains only nine stanzas, each with a completely different structure, with the following schemes:
I. | a a5 b b4 c3 c d6 d4 e e3 e f4 f5 g4 g5, | 15 l. |
II. | a a4 b3 b4 b5 c4 c3 c5 d4 d5 e e4 f3 f3 e5, | 15 l. |
III. | a5 b3 b4 a a5 c3 c4 d e e3 d f ~4 f ~6 g4 g5 g7, | 16 l. |
IV. | a5 a b b4 b c c c5 d3 d5 e e4 e6, | 13 l. |
V. | a a b b c5 c4 c5 d4 e d5 e f f4 g5 g6, | 15 l. |
VI. | a a5 b4 b5 c6 d5 d4 c e f5 f4 f5 g4 g e h5 h7, | 17 l. |
VII. | a5 a3 b5 b4 b5 c3 c6 d4 e3 e6 d5 f f g4 g7, | 15 l. |
VIII. | a2 a b5 b3 c4 c6 d5 d e4 e3 f f4 g6 g h4 h6, | 16 l. |
IX. | a4 a5 b4 b c6 c d4 d5 d e3 e6, | 11 l. |
Cowley’s own original stanzas and those of his numerous imitators are of a similar irregular and arbitrary structure; cf. Cowley’s ode Brutus (Poets, v. 303), which has the following stanzaic forms:
Cowley’s original verses and those of his many imitators share a similar irregular and random structure; see Cowley’s ode Brutus (Poets, v. 303), which has these stanzaic forms:
I. | a4 a b5 b4 c c5 c4 c5 d6 d d5 d4 d5 d6, | 14 l. |
II. | a b a a b5 b4 c c d d5 d3 d e4 e5 f3 g3 g4 f6, | 17 l. |
III. | a3 a5 b4 b6 c5 c d4 d d e e5 f f4 g ~5 g ~6, | 15 l. |
IV. | a a a5 b3 b4 a5 a a4 b5 c4 c d5 d4 e6 e5 f4 f6, | 17 l. |
V. | a b5 b4 a6 c2 c5 c4 a c5 c6 d d e4 e5 f3 f g g5 h h4 i i5 i4,, | 23 l. |
Waller’s ode Upon modern Critics (Poets, v. 650) has the following stanzaic forms:
Waller’s ode Upon modern Critics (Poets, v. 650) has the following stanza forms:
I. | a b b4 a c5 c d4 d5 d4 e f5 f f4 e5 f4 g g h5 i3 i h4 k5 k6, | 23 l. |
II. | a a4 b3 b c c d4 d5 e f f g4 g5 e3 h i4 i5 h k k4, | 23 l. |
III. | a a b b c4 c5 d d e e f f4 e3 f e g4 h5 h g i4 i6,, | 21 l. |
IV. | a b b a4 c c5 d3 d4 e5 d4 d f5 f4 g g5 h4 h5 i i5,, | 19 l. |
V. | a a b b c4 d5 c3 d e5 e6 f5 f4 g5 g h h4 i3 i6,, | 18 l. |
VI. | a4 b3 a b a c c d4 d6 e e4 f f g5 g4 g h5 h i4 i6,, | 20 l. |
All the stanzas are of unequal length and consist of the most various verses (of three, four, mostly five, even six and seven measures) and arrangements of rhymes. Parallel rhymes are very common; but sometimes we have crossed, enclosing, and other kinds of rhyme, as e.g. the system of the Italian terzina. A characteristic feature is that at the end of the stanza very often three parallel rhymes occur, and that, as a rule, the stanza winds up with a somewhat longer line of six or seven measures, as in the Spenserian and the Epithalamium stanza; but sometimes we also find a short final verse.
All the stanzas are of different lengths and consist of various verses (mostly five, but also three, four, six, and seven lines) and rhyme schemes. Parallel rhymes are quite common, but sometimes we see crossed, enclosing, and other types of rhyme, like in the Italian terzina. A distinctive feature is that at the end of the stanza, three parallel rhymes often occur, and usually, the stanza wraps up with a longer line of six or seven lines, similar to the Spenserian and the Epithalamium stanza; however, we also sometimes find a short final line.
To these Irregular Pindaric Odes, besides, belong Dryden’s celebrated odes Threnodia Augustalis and Alexander’s Feast, the latter having a more lyrical form, with a short choral strophe after each main stanza; and Pope’s Ode on St. Cecilia’s Day. A long list of references to similar poems from Cowley to Tennyson is given in Metrik, ii, §§ 516–22; amongst these different forms the rhymeless odic stanzas occurring in Dr. Sayers (Dramatic Sketches), Southey (e.g. Thalaba) and Shelley (Queen Mab) are noticeable.
To these Irregular Pindaric Odes also belong Dryden’s famous odes Threnodia Augustalis and Alexander’s Feast, with the latter featuring a more lyrical structure and a short choral strophe after each main stanza; also included is Pope’s Ode on St. Cecilia’s Day. There’s an extensive list of similar poems from Cowley to Tennyson in Metrik, ii, §§ 516–22; among these various forms, the rhymeless odic stanzas found in Dr. Sayers (Dramatic Sketches), Southey (e.g. Thalaba), and Shelley (Queen Mab) stand out.
§ 305. To these Irregular Pindaric Odes strong opposition was raised by the dramatist Congreve, who in a special Discourse on the Pindaric Ode (Poets, vii. 509) proved that Pindar’s odes were by no means formed on the model of such an arbitrary strophic structure as that of the so-called Pindaric Odes which had hitherto been popular in English poetry. To refute this false view he explained and emphasized their actual structure (see § 303), which he imitated himself in his Pindaric Ode addressed to the Queen, written soon after May 20, 1706, and composed in anisometrical rhyming verses. He was mistaken, however, in thinking that he was the first to make this attempt in English. Nearly a hundred years before him, Ben Jonson had imitated Pindar’s odic form on exactly the same principles; in his Ode Pindaric to the memory of Sir Lucius Carey and Sir H. Morison (Poets, iv. 585) we have the strophe (turn), antistrophe (counter-turnnd the epode (stand), recurring four times (cf. Metrik, ii, § 525). Ben Jonson, however, found no followers; so that his attempt had remained unknown even to Congreve. The regular Pindaric Odes by this poet, on the other hand, called forth a great many imitations of a similar kind and structure. For this reason the first three stanzas of Congreve’s Pindaric Ode (Poets, vii. 570) may be quoted here as an example, the scheme of the strophe and antistrophe being a a5 b3 c c4 b5 b6, that of the epode a b a b4 c5 d4 c3 d4 e4 e f g3 g4 f5:
§ 305. The dramatist Congreve strongly opposed these irregular Pindaric Odes in a special Discourse on the Pindaric Ode (Poets, vii. 509), where he demonstrated that Pindar’s odes were definitely not based on the arbitrary strophic structure of the so-called Pindaric Odes that had been popular in English poetry up until then. To counter this misconception, he clarified and highlighted their true structure (see § 303), which he himself mimicked in his Pindaric Ode to the Queen, written shortly after May 20, 1706, and composed in anisometrical rhyming verses. However, he was wrong to think he was the first to make this effort in English. Nearly a century before him, Ben Jonson had also imitated Pindar’s odic form using precisely the same principles; in his Ode Pindaric dedicated to the memory of Sir Lucius Carey and Sir H. Morison (Poets, iv. 585), we see the strophe (turn), antistrophe (counter-turn), and the epode (stand) repeating four times (cf. Metrik, ii, § 525). However, Ben Jonson did not gain any followers; thus, his attempt remained unknown even to Congreve. On the other hand, Congreve's regular Pindaric Odes inspired many imitations of a similar kind and structure. For this reason, the first three stanzas of Congreve’s Pindaric Ode (Poets, vii. 570) can be cited here as an example, with the scheme of the strophe and antistrophe being a a5 b3 c c4 b5 b6, and that of the epode a b a b4 c5 d4 c3 d4 e4 e f g3 g4 f5:
The Strophe.
The Verse.
The Antistrophe.
The Antistrophe.
The Epode.
The Epode.
The most celebrated among the later Pindaric Odes formed on similar principles are Gray’s odes The Progress of Poesy (Poets, x. 218) and The Bard (ib. 220). References to other odes are given in Metrik, ii, § 527.
The most famous of the later Pindaric Odes created on similar principles are Gray’s odes The Progress of Poesy (Poets, x. 218) and The Bard (ib. 220). References to other odes can be found in Metrik, ii, § 527.
In dramatic poetry M. Arnold attempted to imitate the structure of the different parts of the Chorus of Greek tragedy in his fragment Antigone (p. 211), and more strictly in his tragedyMerope (p. 350). It would lead us too far, however, to give a detailed description of the strophic forms occurring there.
In dramatic poetry, M. Arnold tried to mimic the structure of the various parts of the Chorus in Greek tragedy in his fragment Antigone (p. 211), and more closely in his tragedyMerope (p. 350). However, it would take us too far off track to provide a detailed description of the strophic forms found there.
With regard to other lyrical pieces in masques and operas (also of an unequal-membered strophic structure) and with regard to cantata-stanzas and other stanzas differing among themselves, in other poems which cannot be further discussed here, we must refer the reader to §§ 528–31 of our larger work.
With respect to other lyrical pieces in masques and operas (also with uneven strophic structures) and regarding cantata stanzas and other varied stanzas in different poems that we can't cover further here, we encourage readers to check §§ 528–31 of our larger work.
CHAPTER IX
THE SONNET
§ 306. Origin of the English Sonnet. In early Provençal and French poetry certain lyric poems are found which were called Son, sometimes Sonet, although they had neither a fixed extent, nor a regulated form. But the Sonnet[197] in its exact structure was introduced into French, Spanish, and English poetry from Italian, and as a rule on the model, or at least under the influence, of Petrarch’s sonnets. In English literature, however, the sonnet in part had a more independent development than it had in other countries, and followed its Italian model at first only in the number and nature of the verses used in it. Generally speaking, the Italian and the English sonnet can be defined as a short poem, complete in itself, consisting of fourteen five-foot (or eleven-syllabled) iambic lines, in which a single theme, a thought or series of thoughts, is treated and brought to a conclusion. In the rhyme-arrangement and the structure of the poem, however, the English sonnet, as a rule, deviates greatly from its Italian model, and the examples in which its strict form is followed are comparatively rare.
§ 306. Origin of the English Sonnet. In early Provençal and French poetry, there are certain lyric poems known as Son or sometimes Sonet, which didn’t have a fixed length or a specific form. However, the Sonnet[197] in its precise structure was introduced into French, Spanish, and English poetry from Italian, primarily following the structure or at least under the influence of Petrarch’s sonnets. In English literature, though, the sonnet developed more independently than in other countries, initially mimicking the Italian model only in the number and type of lines used. Generally, both the Italian and English sonnet can be defined as a short poem, self-contained, consisting of fourteen lines with five beats (or eleven syllables) in iambic meter, where a single theme, thought, or series of thoughts is explored and concluded. However, in terms of rhyme scheme and overall structure, the English sonnet often differs significantly from its Italian counterpart, and examples that stick strictly to the Italian form are relatively rare.
§ 307. The Italian Sonnet consists of two parts distinguished from each other by difference of rhymes, each of the parts having its own continuous system of rhymes. The first part is formed of two quatrains (basi), i.e. stanzas of four lines; the second of two terzetti (volte), stanzas of three lines. The two quatrains have only two, the terzetti two or three rhymes.
§ 307. The Italian Sonnet is made up of two sections that differ in their rhyme schemes, with each section having its own continuous rhyme pattern. The first section consists of two quatrains (basi), which are stanzas of four lines; the second section consists of two terzetti (volte), which are stanzas of three lines. The two quatrains use only two rhymes, while the terzetti use either two or three rhymes.
The usual rhyme-arrangement in the quatrains is a b b a a b b a, more rarely a b b a b a a b (rima chiusa). There are, however, also sonnets with alternate rhymes, a b a b a b a b or a b a b b a b a (rima alternata); but the combination of the two kinds of rhyme, a b a b b a a b or a b b a a b a b (rima mista), was unusual. In the second part, consisting of six lines, the order of rhymes is not so definitely fixed. When only two rhymes are used, which the old metrists, as Quadrio (1695–1756), the Italian critic and historian of literature, regarded as the only legitimate method, the usual sequence is c d c d c d (crossed rhymes, rima alternata). This form occurs 112 times in those of Petrarch’s[198] sonnets which have only two rhymes in the last part, their number being 124; in the remaining twelve sonnets the rhyme-system is either c d d c d c or c d d d c c. In the second part of Petrarch’s sonnets three rhymes are commoner than two. In most cases we have the formula c d e c d e, which occurs in 123 sonnets, while the scheme c d e d c e is met with only in 78 sonnets. The three chief forms, then, of Petrarch’s sonnet may be given with Tomlinson[199] as built on the following models:
The typical rhyme scheme in the quatrains is a b b a a b b a, and less frequently a b b a b a a b (rima chiusa). However, there are also sonnets with alternate rhymes, a b a b a b a b or a b a b b a b a (rima alternata); but the combination of both types of rhyme, a b a b b a a b or a b b a a b a b (rima mista), is rare. In the second part, which consists of six lines, the rhyme order isn’t as strictly defined. When only two rhymes are used—considered the only legitimate method by old metrical theorists like Quadrio (1695–1756), the Italian critic and literary historian—the usual sequence is c d c d c d (crossed rhymes, rima alternata). This pattern appears 112 times in the 124 sonnets of Petrarch’s[198] that have just two rhymes in the last part; in the other twelve sonnets, the rhyme scheme is either c d d c d c or c d d d c c. In the second part of Petrarch’s sonnets, three rhymes are more common than two. In most cases, we see the formula c d e c d e, which appears in 123 sonnets, while the scheme c d e d c e is found in only 78 sonnets. Therefore, the three main forms of Petrarch’s sonnet can be outlined with Tomlinson[199] based on the following models:
a b b a a b b a c d e c d e, a b b a a b b a c d c d c d,
a b b a a b b a c d e d c e.
a b b a a b b a c d e c d e, a b b a a b b a c d c d c d,
a b b a a b b a c d e d c e.
In the seventy-second and seventy-fourth sonnet we have the unusual schemes c d e e d c and c d e d e c. The worst form, according to the Italian critics, was that which ended in a rhyming couplet. This kind of ending, as we shall see later on, is one of the chief characteristics of the specifically English form of the sonnet.
In the seventy-second and seventy-fourth sonnets, we see the uncommon rhyme schemes c d e e d c and c d e d e c. Italian critics considered the worst form to be the one that ended with a rhyming couplet. This type of ending, as we will discuss later, is one of the main features of the distinctly English sonnet form.
The original and oldest form of the sonnet, however, as recent inquiries seem to show, was that with crossed rhymes both in the quatrains and in the terzetti, on the scheme a b a b a b a b c d c d c d. But this variety had no direct influence on the true English form, in which a system of crossed rhymes took a different arrangement.
The original and oldest form of the sonnet, however, as recent studies indicate, was one with crossed rhymes in both the quatrains and the terzetti, following the pattern a b a b a b a b c d c d c d. But this version did not directly impact the true English form, which arranged its crossed rhymes differently.
An essential point, then, in the Italian sonnet is the bipartition, the division of it into two chief parts; and this rule is so strictly observed that a carrying on of the sense, or the admission of enjambement between the two main parts, connecting the eighth and ninth verse of the poem by a run-on line, would be looked upon as a gross offence against the true structure and meaning of this poetic form. Nor would a run-on line be allowed between the first and the second stanza; indeed some poets, who follow the strict form of the sonnet, do not even admit enjambement between the first and the second terzetto, although for the second main part of the poem this has never become a fixed rule.
An important point about the Italian sonnet is its division into two main parts, which is a rule that's followed very strictly. If there's a continuation of the thought, or if enjambment is used between the two main parts—linking the eighth and ninth lines of the poem with a run-on line—it would be seen as a serious violation of the true structure and meaning of this poetic form. A run-on line between the first and second stanzas is also not acceptable. In fact, some poets who adhere to the strict sonnet form even avoid enjambment between the first and second tercets, although this hasn't become a fixed rule for the second part of the poem.
The Sonnet’s Voice.
The Sonnet's Voice.
A metrical lesson by the sea-shore.
A rhythmic lesson by the seaside.
Although the run-on line between the terzetti is perhaps open to a slight objection, the rhyme-arrangement is absolutely correct, the inadmissible rhyming couplet at the end of the poem being of course avoided. Other sonnets on the sonnet written in English, German, or French, are quoted in Metrik, ii, § 534
Although the run-on line between the tercets might be slightly problematic, the rhyme scheme is completely accurate, as the unacceptable rhyming couplet at the end of the poem is, of course, avoided. Other sonnets about the sonnet written in English, German, or French are referenced in Metrik, ii, § 534.
§ 309. The first English sonnet-writers, Wyatt and Surrey, departed considerably from this strict Italian form, although they both translated sonnets written by Petrarch into English. Their chief deviation from this model is that, while retaining the two quatrains, they break up the second chief part of the sonnet, viz. the terzetti, into a third quatrain (with separate rhymes) and a rhyming couplet. Surrey went still further in the alteration of the original sonnet by changing the arrangement and the number of rhymes in the quatrains also, whereas Wyatt, as a rule, in this respect only exceptionally deviated from the structure of the Italian sonnet. The greater part of Wyatt’s sonnets (as well as Donne’s, cf. Metrik, ii, § 541) have therefore the scheme abba abba cddc ee, whereas other forms, as e.g. abba abba cd cd ee occur only occasionally (cf. Metrik, ii, § 535).
§ 309. The first English sonnet writers, Wyatt and Surrey, significantly departed from the strict Italian form, though they both translated sonnets by Petrarch into English. Their main difference from this model is that, while keeping the two quatrains, they split the second main part of the sonnet, specifically the terzetti, into a third quatrain (with separate rhymes) and a rhyming couplet. Surrey took this a step further by changing the arrangement and the number of rhymes in the quatrains, whereas Wyatt typically only deviated from the structure of the Italian sonnet in special cases. The majority of Wyatt’s sonnets (as well as Donne’s, cf. Metrik, ii, § 541) thus follow the scheme abba abba cddc ee, while other forms, like abba abba cd cd ee, appear only occasionally (cf. Metrik, ii, § 535).
This order of rhymes, on the other hand, was frequently used by Sir Philip Sidney, who on the whole followed the Italian model, and sometimes employed even more accurate Italian forms, avoiding the final rhyming couplet (cf. ib. § 538). He also invented certain extended and curtailed sonnets which are discussed in Metrik, ii, §§ 539, 540
This rhyme scheme, on the other hand, was often used by Sir Philip Sidney, who generally followed the Italian style and sometimes used even more precise Italian forms, skipping the final rhyming couplet (see ib. § 538). He also created some extended and shortened sonnets which are discussed in Metrik, ii, §§ 539, 540
§ 310. Of greater importance is Surrey’s transformation of the Italian sonnet, according to the formula abab cdcd efefgg. This variety of the sonnet—which, we may note in passing, Surrey also extended into a special poetic form consisting of several such quatrains together with a final rhyming couplet (cf. Metrik, ii, § 537)—was very much in favour in the sixteenth and at the beginning of the seventeenth century. Samuel Daniel, and above all Shakespeare, wrote their sonnets mainly[200] in this form, sometimes combining a series of them in a closely connected cycle. As a specimen of this most important form we quote the eighteenth of Shakespeare’s sonnets:
§ 310. More importantly, Surrey transformed the Italian sonnet using the structure abab cdcd efefgg. This type of sonnet—which, by the way, Surrey also developed into a unique poetic form that included several quatrains followed by a final rhyming couplet (cf. Metrik, ii, § 537)—was quite popular in the sixteenth century and the early seventeenth century. Samuel Daniel, and especially Shakespeare, primarily wrote their sonnets in this form, sometimes creating a series that was closely connected. As an example of this significant form, we quote the eighteenth of Shakespeare’s sonnets:
Commonly the concluding couplet contains an independent thought which gives a conclusion to the poem. In certain cases, however, the thought of the previous stanza is carried on in the closing couplet by means of a run-on line, as is the case in Nos. 71, 72, 108, 154, &c. Sometimes, of course, a run-on line connects different portions of the sonnet also, as e.g. Nos. 114, 129, 154, &c. The rhymes, as a rule, are masculine, but not exclusively so.
Typically, the closing couplet includes a standalone thought that wraps up the poem. However, in some instances, the idea from the previous stanza carries over into the final couplet through a run-on line, as seen in Nos. 71, 72, 108, 154, etc. Sometimes, of course, a run-on line links different sections of the sonnet as well, such as in Nos. 114, 129, 154, etc. Generally, the rhymes are masculine, but they are not exclusively so.
§ 311. Meanwhile, another interesting form had been introduced, perhaps by the Scottish poet, Alex. Montgomerie,[201] which was subsequently chiefly used by Spenser. When about seventeen Spenser had translated the sonnets of the French poet, Du Bellay, in blank verse, and thereby created the rhymeless form of the sonnet, which, however, although not unknown in French poetry, was not further cultivated. About twenty years later he re-wrote the same sonnets in the form introduced by Surrey. Some years after he wrote a series of sonnets, called Amoretti, in that peculiar and very fine form which, although perhaps invented by Montgomerie, now bears Spenser’s name. The three quatrains in this form of the sonnet are connected by concatenatio, the final verse of each quatrain rhyming with the first line of the next, while the closing couplet stands separate. The scheme of this form, then, a b a b b c b c c d c d e e; it found, however, but few imitators (cf. Metrik, ii, §§ 542, 543, 559, note 1).
§ 311. In the meantime, another intriguing form was introduced, possibly by the Scottish poet, Alex. Montgomerie,[201] which was later mainly used by Spenser. When he was about seventeen, Spenser translated the sonnets of the French poet, Du Bellay, into blank verse, creating the rhymeless version of the sonnet that, while not completely new in French poetry, was not widely adopted. About twenty years later, he rewrote those same sonnets in the form introduced by Surrey. A few years after that, he wrote a series of sonnets called Amoretti, in that unique and beautiful form which, although perhaps invented by Montgomerie, is now associated with Spenser. The three quatrains in this sonnet form are linked by concatenatio, where the last line of each quatrain rhymes with the first line of the next, while the final couplet stands alone. The rhyme scheme for this form is a b a b b c b c c d c d e e; however, it had very few followers (cf. Metrik, ii, §§ 542, 543, 559, note 1).
The various forms of Drummond of Hawthornden’s sonnets had also no influence on the further development of this kind of poetry and therefore need not be discussed here. It may suffice to say that he partly imitated the strict Italian form, partly modified it; and that he also used earlier English transformations and invented some new forms (cf. Metrik, ii, §§ 547, 548)
The different styles of Drummond of Hawthornden's sonnets also didn’t impact the future growth of this type of poetry, so we don’t need to go into that here. It’s enough to say that he both imitated the rigid Italian style and made some changes to it; he also worked with earlier English adaptations and created some new styles (cf. Metrik, ii, §§ 547, 548).
§ 312. A new and important period in the history of sonnet writing, although it was only of short duration, began with Milton. Not a single one of his eighteen English and five Italian sonnets is composed on the model of those by Surrey and Shakespeare or in any other genuine English form. He invariably used the Italian rhyme-arrangement a b b a a b b a in the quatrains, combined with the strict Italian order in the terzetti: c d c d c d, c d d c d c, c d e c d e, c d c e e d, c d e d c e; only in one English and in three Italian sonnets we find the less correct Italian form with the final rhyming couplet on the schemes c d d c e e, c d c d e e.
§ 312. A new and significant period in the history of sonnet writing, though it was brief, started with Milton. None of his eighteen English sonnets or five Italian sonnets follow the style of those by Surrey and Shakespeare or any other true English form. He consistently used the Italian rhyme scheme a b b a a b b a in the quatrains, along with the strict Italian order in the tercets: c d c d c d, c d d c d c, c d e c d e, c d c e e d, c d e d c e; only in one English and three Italian sonnets do we find the less accurate Italian form with the final rhyming couplet using the schemes c d d c e e, c d c d e e.
One chief rule, however, of the Italian sonnet, viz. the logical separation of the two main parts by a break in the sense, is observed by Milton only in about half the number of his sonnets; and the above-mentioned relationship of the single parts of the sonnet to each other according to the strict Italian rule (cf. pp. 372–3 and Metrik, ii, § 533, pp. 839–40) is hardly ever met with in Milton. He therefore imitated the Italian sonnet only in its form, and paid no regard to the relationship of its single parts or to the distribution of the contents through the quatrains and terzets. In this respect he kept to the monostrophic structure of the specifically English form of the sonnet, consisting, as a rule, of one continuous train of thought.
One main rule of the Italian sonnet, specifically the clear separation of the two main parts by a break in meaning, is followed by Milton in only about half of his sonnets. The relationship between the individual parts of the sonnet, according to the strict Italian rules, is rarely found in Milton (see pp. 372–3 and Metrik, ii, § 533, pp. 839–40). He therefore only imitated the Italian sonnet in its form and paid little attention to how its parts related to each other or how the content was distributed across the quatrains and terzets. In this regard, he adhered to the monostrophic structure of the specifically English sonnet form, which typically consists of one continuous line of thought.
Milton also introduced into English poetry the playful variety of the so-called tail-sonnet on the Italian model (Sonetti codati), a sonnet, extended by six anisometrical verses, with the scheme a b b a a b b a c d e d e c5 c3 f f5 f3 g g5 (cf. Metrik, ii, § 549), which, however, did not attract many imitators (Milton, ii. 481–2).
Milton also brought a playful variety of the so-called tail-sonnet into English poetry based on the Italian model (Sonetti codati). This is a sonnet that is extended by six uneven verses, following the structure a b b a a b b a c d e d e c5 c3 f f5 f3 g g5 (see Metrik, ii, § 549). However, it didn’t inspire many imitators (Milton, ii. 481–2).
After Milton sonnet-writing was discontinued for about a century. The poets of the Restoration period and of the first half of the eighteenth century (Cowley, Waller, Dryden, Pope, Gay, Akenside, Young, Thomson, Goldsmith, Johnson, and others) did not write a single sonnet, and seem to have despised this form of poetry (cf. Metrik, ii, § 550)
After Milton, sonnet writing was paused for about a hundred years. The poets of the Restoration period and the first half of the eighteenth century (Cowley, Waller, Dryden, Pope, Gay, Akenside, Young, Thomson, Goldsmith, Johnson, and others) didn't write a single sonnet and seemed to look down on this form of poetry (cf. Metrik, ii, § 550)
§ 313. When sonnet-writing was revived in the second half of the eighteenth century by T. Edwards, who composed some fifty sonnets, by Gray, by Benjamin Stillingfleet, T. Warton, and others of less importance, as well as by Charlotte Smith, Helen M. Williams, Anna Seward, the male poets preferred the strict Italian form, while the poetesses, with the exception of Miss Seward, adopted that of Surrey and Shakespeare (cf. Metrik, ii, § 551).
§ 313. When sonnet-writing made a comeback in the late eighteenth century thanks to T. Edwards, who wrote around fifty sonnets, along with Gray, Benjamin Stillingfleet, T. Warton, and other less prominent figures, as well as Charlotte Smith, Helen M. Williams, and Anna Seward, the male poets preferred the strict Italian style. In contrast, the female poets, with the exception of Miss Seward, opted for the forms used by Surrey and Shakespeare (cf. Metrik, ii, § 551).
Not long afterwards another very popular and prolific sonnet-writer, William Lisle Bowles, followed in some of his sonnets the strict Italian model (cf. Metrik, ii, § 552), but also wrote sonnets (towards the end of the eighteenth century) on a scheme that had previously been used by Drummond, viz. a b b a c d d c e f f e g g, this formula representing a transition form from the Italian to Surrey’s sonnet, with enclosing rhymes in the quatrains instead of crossed rhymes (cf. Metrik, ii, § 546, p. 860).
Not long after, another very popular and prolific sonnet-writer, William Lisle Bowles, followed some of his sonnets using the strict Italian model (cf. Metrik, ii, § 552), but he also wrote sonnets (toward the end of the eighteenth century) with a structure that had been used before by Drummond, specifically a b b a c d d c e f f e g g. This pattern represents a transition from the Italian style to Surrey’s sonnet, featuring enclosing rhymes in the quatrains instead of crossed rhymes (cf. Metrik, ii, § 546, p. 860).
Bowles’s example induced S. T. Coleridge to write his sonnets, which in part combined in the quatrains enclosing and crossed rhyme (a b b a c d c d e f e f g g or a b a b c d d c e f f e f e; cf. Metrik, ii, § 553).
Bowles’s example inspired S. T. Coleridge to write his sonnets, which partly featured quatrains with enclosing and crossed rhyme (a b b a c d c d e f e f g g or a b a b c d d c e f f e f e; cf. Metrik, ii, § 553).
Similar, even more arbitrary forms and rhyme-arrangements, the terzetti being sometimes placed at the beginning (e.g. No. 13, a a b c c b d e d e f e f e) of the poem, occur in Southey’s sonnets, which, fine as they sometimes are in thought, have in their form hardly any resemblance to the original Italian model except that they contain fourteen lines. They had, however, like those of Drummond, no further influence, and therefore need not be discussed here (cf. Metrik, ii, § 554)
Similar, even more arbitrary forms and rhyme arrangements, the terzetti sometimes placed at the beginning (e.g. No. 13, a a b c c b d e d e f e f e) of the poem, can be found in Southey’s sonnets, which, although they can be impressive in thought, hardly resemble the original Italian model in their structure except for the fact that they contain fourteen lines. They had, however, like those of Drummond, no significant influence afterward, so they don’t need to be discussed here (cf. Metrik, ii, § 554).
§ 314. A powerful impulse was given to sonnet-writing by Wordsworth, who wrote about 500 sonnets, and who, not least on account of his copiousness, has been called the English Petrarch. He, indeed, followed his Italian model more closely than his predecessors with regard to the form and the relationship of the different parts to each other.
§ 314. A significant boost to sonnet-writing came from Wordsworth, who penned about 500 sonnets and, partly because of his prolific output, has been referred to as the English Petrarch. He closely adhered to his Italian model more than his predecessors in terms of structure and the connections between the different sections.
The usual scheme of his quatrains is a b b a, a b b a, but there is also a form with a third rhyme a b b a, a c c a, which frequently occurs. The rhyme-arrangement of the terzetti is exceedingly various, and there are also a great many sub-species with regard to the structure of the first part. Very often the first quatrain has enclosing rhymes and the second crossed rhymes, or vice versa; these being either formed by two or three rhymes. As the main types of the Wordsworth sonnet the following, which, however, admit of many variations in the terzetti, may be mentioned: a b b a b a b a c d e c e d (ii. 303), a b b a a b a b c d e e d c (viii. 57), a b a b b a a b c d c d c d (vi. 113), a b a b a b b a c d d c d c (viii. 29), a b b a a c a c d e e d e d (vii. 82), a b b a c a c a d e d e e d (viii. 109) or a b b a c a c a d e d e f f (viii. 77), &c., a b a b b c c b d e f e f d (vii. 29). There are of this type also forms in which the terzetti have the structure d d f e e f (vii. 334), or d e f d e f (viii. 68), &c., and a b a b a c a c d e d e d e (viii. 28). Cf. Metrik, ii, § 555.
The typical structure of his quatrains is a b b a, a b b a, but there's also a version with a third rhyme a b b a, a c c a, which often appears. The rhyme pattern of the terzetti is highly diverse, and there are many sub-types regarding the structure of the first part. Often, the first quatrain features enclosing rhymes while the second has crossed rhymes, or vice versa; these can be made up of two or three rhymes. As the main types of Wordsworth's sonnets, the following, which allow for many variations in the terzetti, can be noted: a b b a b a b a c d e c e d (ii. 303), a b b a a b a b c d e e d c (viii. 57), a b a b b a a b c d c d c d (vi. 113), a b a b a b b a c d d c d c (viii. 29), a b b a a c a c d e e d e d (vii. 82), a b b a c a c a d e d e e d (viii. 109) or a b b a c a c a d e d e f f (viii. 77), &c., a b a b b c c b d e f e f d (vii. 29). There are also forms of this type where the terzetti have the structure d d f e e f (vii. 334), or d e f d e f (viii. 68), &c., and a b a b a c a c d e d e d e (viii. 28). Cf. Metrik, ii, § 555.
Very often Wordsworth’s sonnets differ from those of the Italian poets and agree with the Miltonic type in that the two chief parts are not separated from each other by a pause[202]; and even if there is no run-on line the train of thought is continuous. For this reason his sonnets give us rather the impression of a picture or of a description than of a reflective poem following the Italian requirements, according to which the sonnet should consist of: assertion (quatrain i), proof (quatrain ii), confirmation (terzet i), conclusion (terzet ii) (cf. p. 373). The following sonnet by Wordsworth, strictly on the Italian model in its rhyme-arrangement, may serve as an example:
Very often, Wordsworth's sonnets are different from those of the Italian poets and align more with the Miltonic style because the two main parts aren't separated by a pause. Even if there's no run-on line, the flow of thought is continuous. For this reason, his sonnets feel more like a picture or a description rather than a reflective poem following the Italian model, which states that a sonnet should include: assertion (quatrain i), proof (quatrain ii), confirmation (terzet i), conclusion (terzet ii) (cf. p. 373). The following sonnet by Wordsworth, closely aligned with the Italian model in its rhyme scheme, serves as an example:
Sonnets, however, like the following, entitled A Parsonage in Oxfordshire (vi. 292), give to a still greater extent the impression of monostrophic poems on account of the want of distinct separation between the component parts:
Sonnets, however, like the one that follows, titled A Parsonage in Oxfordshire (vi. 292), create an even stronger impression of being monostrophic poems because there is no clear division between the different parts:
The strophic character of many sonnets is still more visible both in Wordsworth and some earlier poets (as e.g. Sidney or Shakespeare) when several consecutive sonnets on the same subject are so closely connected as to begin with the words But or Nor, as e.g. in Wordsworth’s Ecclesiastical Sonnets (XI, XV, XVIII, XXIII); or when sonnets (cf. the same collection, No. XXXII) end like the Spenserian stanza in an Alexandrine. This peculiarity, which, of course, does not conform to the strict and harmonious structure of the sonnet, and is found as early as in a sonnet by Burns (p. 119), sometimes occurs in later poets also.[203] Wordsworth has had an undoubtedly great influence on the further development of sonnet-writing, which is still extensively practised both in England and America.
The repetitive nature of many sonnets is even more apparent in Wordsworth and some earlier poets (like Sidney or Shakespeare) when multiple sonnets on the same theme are so closely linked that they start with the words But or Nor, as seen in Wordsworth’s Ecclesiastical Sonnets (XI, XV, XVIII, XXIII); or when sonnets (see the same collection, No. XXXII) conclude like the Spenserian stanza with an Alexandrine. This unusual feature, which doesn’t fit the strict and balanced form of the sonnet, can be traced back to a sonnet by Burns (p. 119) and sometimes appears in later poets as well.[203] Wordsworth has undeniably had a significant impact on the ongoing development of sonnet writing, which is still widely practiced in both England and America.
1. The specifically English form of Surrey and Shakespeare, used e.g. by Keats, S. T. Coleridge, Mrs. Hemans, C. Tennyson Turner, Mrs. Browning, M. Arnold (pp. 37, 38) (cf. Metrik, ii, § 566).
1. The particular English version of Surrey and Shakespeare, as used by Keats, S. T. Coleridge, Mrs. Hemans, C. Tennyson Turner, Mrs. Browning, and M. Arnold (pp. 37, 38) (see Metrik, ii, § 566).
2. The Wordsworth sonnet, approaching to the Italian sonnet in its form or rather variety of forms; it occurs in S. T. Coleridge, Hartley Coleridge, Sara Coleridge, Byron, Mrs. Hemans, Lamb, Tennyson, D. G. Rossetti, M. Arnold (pp. 1–8) (cf. ib. §§ 561–2).
2. The Wordsworth sonnet, which is similar to the Italian sonnet in its structure or rather in its different forms; it's found in S. T. Coleridge, Hartley Coleridge, Sara Coleridge, Byron, Mrs. Hemans, Lamb, Tennyson, D. G. Rossetti, M. Arnold (pp. 1–8) (see ib. §§ 561–2).
3. The Miltonic form, correct in its rhymes but not in the relationship of its different parts to one another, used by Keats, Byron, Aubrey de Vere, Lord Houghton, Mrs. Browning, Rossetti, Swinburne, and others (cf. ib. § 563).
3. The Miltonic form, which has the right rhymes but not a proper connection between its different parts, was used by Keats, Byron, Aubrey de Vere, Lord Houghton, Mrs. Browning, Rossetti, Swinburne, and others (cf. ib. § 563).
4. The strict Italian form, as we find it in Keats, Byron, Leigh Hunt, Aubrey de Vere, Tennyson, Browning, Mrs. Browning, Austin Dobson, Rossetti, Swinburne, M. Arnold (pp. 179–85), and most poets of the modern school (cf. ib. §§ 564–5).
4. The strict Italian form, as seen in Keats, Byron, Leigh Hunt, Aubrey de Vere, Tennyson, Browning, Mrs. Browning, Austin Dobson, Rossetti, Swinburne, and M. Arnold (pp. 179–85), and most poets of the modern era (cf. ib. §§ 564–5).
CHAPTER X
OTHER ITALIAN AND FRENCH POETIC FORMS OF A FIXED CHARACTER
§ 316. The madrigal, an Italian form (It. mandriale, madrigale, from mandra flock), is a pastoral song, a rural idyl. The Italian madrigals of Petrarch, &c., are short, isometrical poems of eleven-syllable verses, consisting of two or three terzetti with different rhymes and two or four other rhyming verses, mostly couplets: a b c a b c d d, a b a b c b c c, a b b a c c d d, a b b c d d e e, a b b a c c c d d, a b a c b c d e d e, a b b c d d e e f f, a b b c d d e f f g g.
§ 316. The madrigal, an Italian form (It. mandriale, madrigale, from mandra flock), is a pastoral song, a rural idyll. The Italian madrigals of Petrarch, etc., are short, isometric poems of eleven-syllable verses, consisting of two or three tercets with different rhymes and two or four other rhyming lines, mostly couplets: a b c a b c d d, a b a b c b c c, a b b a c c d d, a b b c d d e e, a b b a c c c d d, a b a c b c d e d e, a b b c d d e e f f, a b b c d d e f f g g.
The English madrigals found in Sidney and especially in Drummond resemble the Italian madrigals only in subject; in their form they differ widely from their models, as they consist of from fifteen to five lines and have the structure of canzone-stanzas of three- and five-foot verses. The stanzas run on an average from eight to twelve lines. As a specimen the twelfth madrigal of Drummond (Poets, iv. 644), according to the formula a3 a5 b3 a5 b3 b5 c5 c3 d d5, may be quoted here:
The English madrigals found in Sidney and especially in Drummond are only similar to the Italian madrigals in their themes; their structure is quite different from their models, consisting of five to fifteen lines and featuring the form of canzone stanzas with three- and five-foot verses. The stanzas typically range from eight to twelve lines in length. As an example, the twelfth madrigal of Drummond (Poets, iv. 644), which follows the pattern a3 a5 b3 a5 b3 b5 c5 c3 d d5, can be quoted here:
Other madrigals have the following schemes (the first occurring twice in Sidney and once in Drummond, while the rest are found in Drummond only):
Other madrigals have these patterns (the first appears twice in Sidney and once in Drummond, while the others are found only in Drummond):
fifteen lines, a3 a5 b3 c5 c3 b5 b3 d5 d3 e e5 d3 e f f5; fourteen lines, a a3 a5 b3 c5 b3 c d5 e e3 d f5 d3 f5; thirteen lines, a a3 b5 c c3 b5 c3 d d5 e3 f e f5; twelve lines,a2 b5 b3 a5 c d3 d c5 c e3 f f5; eleven lines, a3 b c a5 b d3 d e e f f5; ten lines, a b3 b a5 a c b3 c d d5; nine lines, a3 a5 b c b3 c c d d5; eight lines, a3 a5 b b c3 c d d5; seven lines, a b a3 c c5 a3 b5; six lines, a b b a c3 c5; five lines, a b b3 a b5. For specimens of these and other madrigals in Drummond cf. Metrik, ii, § 508
fifteen lines, a3 a5 b3 c5 c3 b5 b3 d5 d3 e e5 d3 e f f5; fourteen lines, a a3 a5 b3 c5 b3 c d5 e e3 d f5 d3 f5; thirteen lines, a a3 b5 c c3 b5 c3 d d5 e3 f e f5; twelve lines, a2 b5 b3 a5 c d3 d c5 c e3 f f5; eleven lines, a3 b c a5 b d3 d e e f f5; ten lines, a b3 b a5 a c b3 c d d5; nine lines, a3 a5 b c b3 c c d d5; eight lines, a3 a5 b b c3 c d d5; seven lines, a b a3 c c5 a3 b5; six lines, a b b a c3 c5; five lines, a b b3 a b5. For examples of these and other madrigals in Drummond cf. Metrik, ii, § 508
§ 317. Some poems in Drummond’s and Sidney’s works entitled epigrams consist, as a rule, of two or more five-foot verses, rhyming in couplets. In Sidney there are also short poems resembling these in subject, but consisting of one-rhymed Alexandrines. We have also one in R. Browning (iii. 146) of seven one-rhymed Septenary verses; several others occur in D. G. Rossetti (ii. 137–40) of eight lines on the schemes a a4 b b4 a a4 b b4 styled Chimes (cf. Metrik, ii, §§ 570, 571.)
§ 317. Some poems in the works of Drummond and Sidney called epigrams typically consist of two or more lines of five beats, rhyming in pairs. Sidney also has short poems that are similar in theme but consist of single-rhyme Alexandrines. Additionally, there’s one in R. Browning (iii. 146) that has seven lines of single-rhyme Septenary verses; several others can be found in D. G. Rossetti (ii. 137–40) that are eight lines long following the schemes a a4 b b4 a a4 b b4 known as Chimes (see Metrik, ii, §§ 570, 571.)
§ 318. The terza-rima. Of much greater importance is another Italian form, viz. a continuous stanza of eleven-syllable verses, the terza-rima, the metre in which Dante wrote his Divina Commedia. It first appears in English poetry in Chaucer’s Complaint to his Lady, second and third part,[204] but may be said to have been introduced into English literature by Wyatt, who wrote satires and penitential psalms in this form (Ald. ed. pp. 186–7, 209–34), and by Surrey in his Description of the restless state of a Lover (Ald. ed. p. 1). The rhyme-system of the terza-rima is a b a b c b c d c, &c. That is to say, the first and third lines of the first triplet rhyme together, while the middle line has a different rhyme which recurs in the first and third line of the second triplet; and in the same manner the first and third lines of each successive triplet rhyme with the middle line of the preceding one, so as to form a continuous chain of three-line stanzas of iambic five-foot verses till the end of the poem, which is formed by a single line added to the last stanza and rhyming with its second line.
§ 318. The terza-rima. Another Italian form that's much more significant is the continuous stanza of eleven-syllable verses known as terza-rima, the meter Dante used in his Divina Commedia. It first shows up in English poetry in Chaucer’s Complaint to his Lady, second and third part,[204] but it can be said that Wyatt introduced it to English literature by writing satires and penitential psalms in this form (Ald. ed. pp. 186–7, 209–34), along with Surrey in his Description of the restless state of a Lover (Ald. ed. p. 1). The rhyme scheme of terza-rima is a b a b c b c d c, &c. This means that the first and third lines of the first triplet rhyme with each other, while the middle line has a different rhyme that reappears in the first and third line of the second triplet. Similarly, the first and third lines of each following triplet rhyme with the middle line of the previous one, creating a continuous chain of three-line stanzas of iambic pentameter until the poem ends with a single line added to the last stanza that rhymes with its second line.
The first stanzas of Surrey’s poem may be quoted here:
The first stanzas of Surrey’s poem can be quoted here:
The terza-rima has not the compact structure of the sonnet, as in each of its stanzas a rhyme is wanting which is only supplied in the following stanza. For this reason it seems to be especially adapted for epic or reflective poetry.
The terza-rima doesn’t have the tight structure of a sonnet, since each of its stanzas is missing a rhyme that is only provided in the next stanza. Because of this, it seems particularly well-suited for epic or reflective poetry.
Comparatively few examples of this form are met with in English poetry, as e.g. in Sidney, S. Daniel, Drummond, Milton, and Shelley (cf. Metrik, ii, § 572).
Comparatively few examples of this form are found in English poetry, such as in Sidney, S. Daniel, Drummond, Milton, and Shelley (cf. Metrik, ii, § 572).
In Sidney and R. Browning (iii. 102) we also find a variety of the terza-rima consisting of four-foot verses, and in Browning some others formed of four-stressed verses (iv. 288).
In Sidney and R. Browning (iii. 102), we also see a version of terza-rima made up of four-foot lines, and in Browning, there are others created from four-stressed lines (iv. 288).
Some similar rhyme-systems of three lines, occurring in Sidney and Drummond, are of less importance (cf. ib., § 573)
Some similar rhyme schemes of three lines, found in Sidney and Drummond, are less significant (cf. ib., § 573)
One of four lines on the model a a b a5 b b c b5 c c d c5, &c., occurs in Swinburne, Poems, ii. 32, 34, 239; another on the scheme a a b a5, c c b c5, d d e d5, &c., ib. i. 13; a third one, following the formula a b c3 b2, a b c3 b2, a b c3 b2, called Triads, ib. ii. 159 (cf. Metrik, ii, § 564).
One of the four lines in the pattern a a b a5 b b c b5 c c d c5, etc., can be found in Swinburne, Poems, ii. 32, 34, 239; another follows the scheme a a b a5, c c b c5, d d e d5, etc., ib. i. 13; a third one, based on the formula a b c3 b2, a b c3 b2, a b c3 b2, is known as Triads, ib. ii. 159 (see Metrik, ii, § 564).
Five-lined forms, similar to the terza-rima, occur in Sidney, e.g. abcdd, efghh, iklmm, the rhymeless lines being connected by sectional rhyme, the stanzas themselves likewise by sectional rhyme; another on the model a5 b3 c5 c3 B5, B5 d3 e5 e3 D5, D5 f3 g5 g3 F5; and a third on the scheme a3 a5 b c3 b5, c3 c5 d e3 d5, e3 e5 f g3 f5, &c. A related form, a b a b c4, c d c d e4, ... y z y z z4, is found in Mrs. Browning (iv. 44). For specimen cf. Metrik, ii, § 575.
Five-line patterns, similar to terza rima, can be found in Sidney, for example, abcdd, efghh, iklmm, where the unrhymed lines are linked by sectional rhyme, and the stanzas are also connected by sectional rhyme; another follows the model a5 b3 c5 c3 B5, B5 d3 e5 e3 D5, D5 f3 g5 g3 F5; and a third follows the scheme a3 a5 b c3 b5, c3 c5 d e3 d5, e3 e5 f g3 f5, &c. A similar form, a b a b c4, c d c d e4, ... y z y z z4, is found in Mrs. Browning (iv. 44). For an example, see Metrik, ii, § 575.
A terza-rima system of six lines may be better mentioned in this section than together with the sub-varieties of the sextain, as was done in Metrik, ii, §578; they pretty often occur in Sidney, e.g. Pansies, ix (Grosart, i. 202), on the schemes a b a b c b, c d c d e d, e f e f g f, v w v w x w, ... x y x y z y y.
A terza-rima system of six lines is probably better discussed here than alongside the sub-varieties of the sextain, as was done in Metrik, ii, §578; these often appear in Sidney, for example in Pansies, ix (Grosart, i. 202), following the patterns a b a b c b, c d c d e d, e f e f g f, v w v w x w, ... x y x y z y y.
In Spenser’s Pastoral Aeglogue on Sidney (pp. 506–7) a rhyme-system according to a b c a b c5, d b e d f e5, g f h g i h5, k i l k m l5, &c. is met with; in Mrs. Browning (iii. 236) a much simpler system, constructed of five-foot lines on the formula a b a b a b c d c d c d e f e f e f, &c., is used.
In Spenser’s Pastoral Aeglogue on Sidney (pp. 506–7), a rhyme scheme according to a b c a b c5, d b e d f e5, g f h g i h5, k i l k m l5, etc. is found; in Mrs. Browning (iii. 236), a much simpler scheme, made up of five-foot lines following the pattern a b a b a b c d c d c d e f e f e f, etc., is used.
A system of ten lines, consisting of five-foot verses (a b a b b c a e d D, D e d e e f d f g G, G h g h h i g i k K, &c., ending in a stanza of four lines, X y x y) occurs in Sidney, pp. 218–20 (221–4, xxxi); cf. Metrik, ii, § 580
A ten-line structure made up of five-foot verses (a b a b b c a e d D, D e d e e f d f g G, G h g h h i g i k K, etc.), ending with a four-line stanza, X y x y, can be found in Sidney, pp. 218–20 (221–4, xxxi); see Metrik, ii, § 580.
The sextain consists of eleven-syllabled or rather five-foot verses and has six stanzas of six lines each, and an envoy of three lines in addition. Each of the six stanzas, considered individually, is rhymeless, and so is the envoy. But the end-words of the lines of each stanza from the second to the sixth are identical with those of the lines in the preceding stanza, but in a different order, viz. six, one, five, two, four, three. In the envoy, the six end-words of the first stanza recur, in the same order, alternately in the middle and at the end of the line. Hence the whole system of rhymes (or rather of recurrence of end-words) is as follows: a b c d e f . f a e b d c . c f d a b e . e c b f a d . d e a c f b . b d f e c a + (a) b (c) d (e) f.
The sextain has lines with eleven syllables, or five feet, and consists of six stanzas, each with six lines, plus an envoy of three lines. Each of the six stanzas is rhyme-free, and so is the envoy. However, the end-words of the lines from the second to the sixth stanzas match those in the previous stanza but are rearranged as follows: six, one, five, two, four, three. In the envoy, the six end-words from the first stanza appear again in the same sequence, alternating between the middle and the end of the line. Therefore, the full rhyme scheme (or rather, the pattern of repeated end-words) is: a b c d e f . f a e b d c . c f d a b e . e c b f a d . d e a c f b . b d f e c a + (a) b (c) d (e) f.
The first two stanzas of Sidney’s Agelastus Sestine, pp. 438–9 (426–7, lxxiv), together with the envoy and with the end-words of the other stanzas, may serve to make this clear:
The first two stanzas of Sidney’s Agelastus Sestine, pp. 438–9 (426–7, lxxiv), along with the envoy and the end-words of the other stanzas, can help clarify this:
The other stanzas have the corresponding rhyme-words in this order:
The other stanzas have the matching rhyme words in this order:
damage
wayling
publike
sorrowe
fortune
Nature
Nature
damage
Fortune
wayling
sorrowe
publike
publike
nature
sorrow
damage
wayling
fortune
fortune
publike
wayling
nature
damage
sorrow
The envoy is:
The ambassador is:
This strict form of the sextain, which in Sidney, pp. 216–17 (219–21, xxx), occurs even with a twofold rhyming system, but, of course, with only one envoy, has, as far as we know, only once been imitated in modern poetry, viz. by E. W. Gosse (New Poems). Cf. Metrik, ii, § 576
This strict version of the sextain, which appears in Sidney, pp. 216–17 (219–21, xxx), even features a twofold rhyming scheme, but, of course, has only one envoy. To our knowledge, it has only been imitated once in modern poetry, specifically by E. W. Gosse (New Poems). See Metrik, ii, § 576.
§ 321. Besides this original form of the sextain several other varieties are met with in English poetry. Thus Spenser, in the eighth eclogue of his Shepherd’s Calendar (pp. 471–2), has a sextain of a somewhat different structure, the rhymeless end-words being arranged in this order: a b c d e f. f a b c d e. e f a b c d. d e f a b c. c d e f a b. b c d e f a + (a) b (c) d (e) f. Here the final word of the last verse of the first stanza, it is true, is also used as final word in the first verse of the second stanza, but the order of the final words of the other verses of the first stanza remains unchanged in the second. The same relation of the end-words exists between st. ii to st. iii, between st. iii to st. iv, &c., and lastly between st. vi and the envoy; the envoy, again, has the end-words of the first stanza; those which have their place in the interior of the verse occur at the end of the third measure.
§ 321. In addition to the original form of the sextain, there are several other variations found in English poetry. For example, Spenser, in the eighth eclogue of his Shepherd’s Calendar (pp. 471–2), includes a sextain with a slightly different structure, where the rhymeless end-words are arranged as follows: a b c d e f. f a b c d e. e f a b c d. d e f a b c. c d e f a b. b c d e f a + (a) b (c) d (e) f. Here, the final word of the last line of the first stanza is also used as the last word in the first line of the second stanza, but the order of the final words in the other lines of the first stanza remains unchanged in the second. The same relationship of end-words exists between st. ii and st. iii, between st. iii and st. iv, and so on, finally between st. vi and the envoy; the envoy again includes the end-words from the first stanza, while those that appear in the middle of the lines are placed at the end of the third measure.
Some other sub-varieties of the sextain have rhyming final words in each stanza.
Some other sub-varieties of the sextain have rhyming final words in each stanza.
In Sidney’s Arcadia, p. 443 (430–1, lxxvi), e.g. one sextain has the following end-words: light, treasure, might, pleasure, direction, affection. These end-words recur in the following stanzas in the order of the regular sextain; hence st. ii has affection, light, direction, treasure, pleasure, might, &c. In this variety, also, the rhyme-words of the envoy occur at a fixed place, viz. at the end of the second measure. Drummond wrote two sextains of the same elegant form.
In Sidney’s Arcadia, p. 443 (430–1, lxxvi), for example, one sextain has the following end-words: light, treasure, might, pleasure, direction, affection. These end-words appear again in the following stanzas in the order of the regular sextain; thus, st. ii features affection, light, direction, treasure, pleasure, might, etc. In this variation, the rhyme-words of the envoy also occur in a fixed position, namely at the end of the second measure. Drumm
In Swinburne also (Poems, ii. 46) we have a sextain of rhymed stanzas, the first stanza rhyming day, night, way, light,may, delight. All these recur in the following stanzas in a similar order, though not so strictly observed as in the sextain by Spenser, mentioned above (cf. Metrik, ii, § 577).
In Swinburne also (Poems, ii. 46) we have a six-line stanza with rhymes, where the first stanza rhymes day, night, way, light,may, delight. All these words appear in the following stanzas in a similar order, although not as strictly as in the six-line stanza by Spenser mentioned earlier (cf. Metrik, ii, § 577).
One example (probably unique in English poetry) of what is known as the Double Sextain is found in Swinburne’s The Complaint of Lisa (Poems, ii. 60–8), a poem in which he has given one of the most brilliant specimens of his skill in rhyming. It consists of twelve twelve-lined stanzas and a six-lined envoy. The first two stanzas rhyme a b c A B d C e f E D F, F a f D A C b e c E d B; the envoy on the scheme
One example (probably unique in English poetry) of what is called the Double Sextain can be found in Swinburne’s The Complaint of Lisa (Poems, ii. 60–8), a poem that showcases one of his most brilliant displays of rhyming skill. It consists of twelve twelve-line stanzas and a six-line envoy. The first two stanzas rhyme a b c A B d C e f E D F, F a f D A C b e c E d B; the envoy follows the scheme
(F) E (e) f (C) A (c) d (b) a (D) B;
(F) E (e) f (C) A (c) d (b) a (D) B;
where the corresponding capital and small letters denote different words rhyming with each other. Cf. Metrik, ii, § 581
where the corresponding capital and small letters represent different words that rhyme with each other. Cf. Metrik, ii, § 581
§ 322. Side by side with these well-known poems of fixed form, mostly constructed on Italian models, there are some others influenced by French poetry which have been introduced into English for the most part by contemporary modern poets, as e.g. Swinburne, Austin Dobson, Robert Bridges, D.G. Rossetti, A. Lang, and E.W. Gosse[205]. These are the virelay, roundel, rondeau, triolet, villanelle, ballade, and chant royal. The virelay seems to have been in vogue in earlier English poetry. Chaucer, e.g. in his Legende of good Women, v. 423, says of himself that he had written balades, roundels, and virelayes. But only isolated specimens of it have been preserved; in more recent times it has not been imitated at all.
§ 322. Alongside these well-known fixed-form poems, mainly based on Italian styles, there are others influenced by French poetry that have been brought into English primarily by contemporary poets like Swinburne, Austin Dobson, Robert Bridges, D.G. Rossetti, A. Lang, and E.W. Gosse[205]. These include the virelay, roundel, rondeau, triolet, villanelle, ballade, and chant royal. The virelay seems to have been popular in earlier English poetry. Chaucer, for instance, in his Legende of good Women, v. 423, mentions that he had written balades, roundels, and virelayes. However, only a few examples of it have been preserved; in more recent times, it hasn’t been imitated at all.
According to Lubarsch[206] the virelay consists of verses of unequal length, joined by concatenatio so as to form stanzas of nine lines on the scheme: a a b a a b a a b, b b c b b c b b c, c c d c c d c c d, &c. Apart from this, however, there were undoubtedly other forms in existence (cf. Bartsch, Chrestomathie de l’ancien français, p. 413). Morris, in the Aldine edition of Chaucer’s Works, vol. vi, p. 305, gives a virelay of two-foot iambic verses in six-lined stanzas on the model
According to Lubarsch[206], the virelay consists of verses of different lengths, connected by concatenatio to create stanzas of nine lines following this pattern: a a b a a b a a b, b b c b b c b b c, c c d c c d c c d, &c. Besides this, there were certainly other forms that existed (see Bartsch, Chrestomathie de l’ancien français, p. 413). Morris, in the Aldine edition of Chaucer’s Works, vol. vi, p. 305, presents a virelay of two-foot iambic verses in six-lined stanzas based on the model.
a a a b a a a b, b b b c b b b c c c c d c c c d, &c.
a a a b a a a b, b b b c b b b c c c c d c c c d, &c.
(quoted Metrik, i, § 155)
(quoted Metrik, i, § 155)
§ 323. The roundel, used by Eustache Deschamps, Charles d’Orléans, and others, was introduced into English poetry, it seems, by Chaucer. But there are only a few roundels of his in existence; one of these occurs in The Assembly of Fowles (ll. 681–8); if the verses of the burden are repeated, as printed in the Globe Edition, pp. 638–9, it has thirteen lines (a b b a b a b a b b a b b, the thick types showing the refrain-verses):
§ 323. The roundel, used by Eustache Deschamps, Charles d’Orléans, and others, was brought into English poetry, it seems, by Chaucer. However, there are only a few roundels of his that still exist; one of these appears in The Assembly of Fowles (ll. 681–8); if the lines of the refrain are repeated, as printed in the Globe Edition, pp. 638–9, it has thirteen lines (a b b a b a b a b b a b b, with the bold type showing the refrain lines):
Three other roundels of Chaucer on the scheme last mentioned have been published lately by Skeat in Chaucer’s Minor Poems, pp. 386–7; some other Middle English roundels were written by Hoccleve and Lydgate.
Three other roundels by Chaucer on the previously mentioned topic have recently been published by Skeat in Chaucer’s Minor Poems, pp. 386–7; some additional Middle English roundels were written by Hoccleve and Lydgate.
In French the roundel was not always confined to one particular metre, nor did it always consist of a fixed number of verses; the same may be said of the English roundels.
In French, the roundel wasn't always limited to one specific meter, nor did it always have a set number of verses; the same can be said for English roundels.
The essential condition of this form, as used by the French poets, was that two, three, or four verses forming a refrain must recur three times at fixed positions in a tripartite isometrical poem consisting mostly of thirteen or fourteen four- or five-foot verses. A common form of the French roundel consisted of fourteen octosyllabic verses on the model
The main requirement of this form, as used by French poets, was that two, three, or four lines making up a refrain needed to appear three times in set spots within a three-part equal-length poem that typically had thirteen or fourteen lines, each being four or five feet long. A popular version of the French roundel included fourteen eight-syllable lines based on the model
a b b a a b a b a b b a a b.
a b b a a b a b a b b a a b.
Conforming to this scheme is a roundel by Lydgate[207]:
Conforming to this plan is a roundel by Lydgate[207]:
Another roundel of four-foot verses, by Lydgate (Ritson, i. 129), corresponds to a b a b a b a b a b a b a b (cf. Metrik, i, § 180); some other roundels, of a looser structure, consisting, seemingly, of ten lines, are quoted in the same place (cf. Metrik, ii, § 583).
Another roundel of four-foot verses by Lydgate (Ritson, i. 129) corresponds to a b a b a b a b a b a b a b (see Metrik, i, § 180); a few other roundels with a more relaxed structure, seemingly made up of ten lines, are mentioned in the same place (see Metrik, ii, § 583).
A Modern English roundel of fourteen lines, constructed of three-foot verses, by Austin Dobson, has the scheme a b a b b a a b a b a b a b (quoted ib. § 583). The French roundel of thirteen lines may be looked upon as a preliminary form to the rondeau, which was developed from the roundel at the end of the fifteenth and the beginning of the sixteenth century.
A modern English roundel of fourteen lines, made up of three-foot verses, by Austin Dobson, follows the pattern a b a b b a a b a b a b a b (quoted ib. § 583). The French roundel of thirteen lines can be seen as an early version of the rondeau, which evolved from the roundel at the end of the fifteenth and the beginning of the sixteenth century.
§ 324. The rondeau is a poem consisting of thirteen lines of eight or ten syllables, or four or five measures. It has three stanzas of five, three, and five lines, rhyming on the scheme a a b b a a a b a a b b a. It has, moreover, a refrain which is formed by the first words of the first line, and recurs twice, viz. after the eighth and thirteenth verses, with which it is syntactically connected. Strictly speaking it therefore has fifteen lines, corresponding to the scheme a a b b a a a b + r a a b b a + r. The rondeau was much cultivated by the French poet, Clément Marot. It was introduced into English by Wyatt, from whom the rondeau Complaint for True Love unrequited (p. 23) may be quoted here:
§ 324. The rondeau is a poem made up of thirteen lines with either eight or ten syllables, or four or five measures. It consists of three stanzas of five, three, and five lines, following the rhyme scheme a a b b a a a b a a b b a. Additionally, it features a refrain that is formed by the first words of the first line, appearing twice, specifically after the eighth and thirteenth lines, and is syntactically connected to them. Strictly speaking, it has fifteen lines, corresponding to the structure a a b b a a a b + r a a b b a + r. The rondeau was significantly embraced by the French poet, Clément Marot. It was brought into English by Wyatt, from whom the rondeau Complaint for True Love unrequited (p. 23) may be referenced here:
This is the proper form of the rondeau. Other forms deviating from it are modelled on the schemes:
This is the correct structure of the rondeau. Other variations are based on the following patterns:
Austin Dobson, Robert Bridges, and Theo. Marzials strictly follow the form quoted above.
Austin Dobson, Robert Bridges, and Theo. Marzials strictly adhere to the form mentioned above.
Another form of the rondeau entirely deviating from the above is found in Swinburne, A Century of Roundels,[208] where he combines verses of the most varied length and rhythm on the scheme A B A + b B A B A B A + b where b denotes part of a verse, rhyming with the second, but repeated from the beginning of the first verse and consisting of one or several words (cf. Metrik, ii, §§ 584, 585)
Another type of rondeau, which is completely different from the one mentioned above, can be found in Swinburne's A Century of Roundels,[208] where he mixes lines of various lengths and rhythms following the scheme A B A + b B A B A B A + b. Here, b refers to part of a line that rhymes with the second, but is repeated from the start of the first line and can consist of one or several words (see Metrik, ii, §§ 584, 585).
The triolet, found as early as in Adenet-le-Roi at the beginning of the thirteenth century, is a short poem of eight mostly octosyllabic verses, rhyming according to the formula a b a a a b a b, the first verse recurring as a refrain in the fourth, the first and second together in the seventh and eighth place. Two specimens have been quoted, Metrik, ii, § 586
The triolet, which appeared as early as in Adenet-le-Roi at the start of the thirteenth century, is a short poem made up of eight mostly octosyllabic lines, rhyming in the pattern a b a a a b a b. The first line repeats as a refrain in the fourth line, and the first and second lines together appear in the seventh and eighth positions. Two examples have been cited, Metrik, ii, § 586.
§ 326. The villanelle (a peasant song, rustic ditty, from villanus) was cultivated by Jean Passerat (1534–1602); in modern poetry by Th. de Banville, L. Baulmier, &c. It mostly consists of octosyllabic verses divided into five stanzas (sometimes a larger or smaller number) of three lines plus a final stanza of four lines, the whole corresponding to the scheme a1 b a2 + a b a1 + a b a2 + a b a1 + a b a2 + a b a1 a2. Hence the first and the third verses of the first stanza are used alternately as a refrain to form the last verse of the following stanzas, while in the last stanza both verses are used in this way. A villanelle by Gosse on this model consisting of eight stanzas, perhaps the only specimen in English literature, has been quoted, Metrik, ii, § 587
§ 326. The villanelle (a folk song, rustic tune, from villanus) was developed by Jean Passerat (1534–1602); in modern poetry by Th. de Banville, L. Baulmier, and others. It mostly consists of octosyllabic lines divided into five stanzas (sometimes with more or fewer) of three lines plus a final stanza of four lines, following the structure a1 b a2 + a b a1 + a b a2 + a b a1 + a b a2 + a b a1 a2. Therefore, the first and third lines of the first stanza are used alternately as a refrain to form the last line of the following stanzas, while in the final stanza both lines are used this way. A villanelle by Gosse based on this model consisting of eight stanzas, possibly the only example in English literature, has been quoted, Metrik, ii, § 587
§ 327. The ballade is a poetical form consisting of somewhat longer stanzas all having the same rhymes. Several varieties of it existed in Old French poetry. The two most usual forms are that with octosyllabic and that with decasyllabic lines. The first form is composed of three stanzas of eight lines on the model a b a b b c b C (cf. § 269). The rhymes in each stanza agree with those of the corresponding lines in the two others, the last line, which is identical in all the three, forming the refrain; this refrain-verse recurs also at the end of the envoi, which corresponds in its structure to the second half of the main stanza, according to the formula b c b C. The decasyllabic form has three stanzas of ten verses on the scheme a b a b b c c d c D (cf. § 271), and an envoi of five verses on the scheme c c d c D; the same rules holding good in all other respects as in the eight-lined form. It is further to be observed that the envoi began, as a rule, with one of the words Prince, Princesse, Reine, Roi, Sire, either because the poem was addressed to some personage of royal or princely rank, or because, originally, this address referred to the poet who had been crowned as ‘king’ in the last poetical contest.
§ 327. The ballade is a poetic form made up of relatively longer stanzas that all share the same rhyme scheme. There were several variations in Old French poetry. The two most common forms are those with eight-syllable and those with ten-syllable lines. The first form consists of three stanzas, each containing eight lines following the pattern a b a b b c b C (cf. § 269). The rhymes in each stanza correspond to the same lines in the other two stanzas, with the last line, which is the same in all three, serving as the refrain; this refrain also appears at the end of the envoi, which has a structure similar to the second half of the main stanza, according to the pattern b c b C. The ten-syllable form contains three stanzas of ten lines following the scheme a b a b b c c d c D (cf. § 271), with an envoi of five lines following the scheme c c d c D; the same rules apply in all other respects as in the eight-line form. Additionally, it's important to note that the envoi typically started with one of the words Prince, Princesse, Reine, Roi, Sire, either because the poem was directed towards a royal or noble figure, or because this address originally referred to the poet who had been crowned as ‘king’ in the last poetry contest.
In England also the ballade had become known as early as in the fourteenth century. We have a collection of ballades composed in the French language by Gower,[209] consisting of stanzas of either eight or seven (rhyme royal) decasyllabic verses with the same rhyme throughout the poem. Similar to the French are Chaucer’s English ballades in his Minor Poems, which, however, in so far differ from the regular form, that the envoi consists of five, six, or seven lines; in some of the poems even there is no envoi at all. Accurate reproductions of the Old French ballade are not found again until recent times. There are examples by Austin Dobson and especially by Swinburne (A Midsummer Holiday, London, 1884). They occur in both forms, constructed as well of four- and five-foot iambic, as of six-, seven-, or eight-foot trochaic or of five- and seven-foot iambic-anapaestic verses. (For specimens cf. Metrik, ii, § 588.)
In England, the ballade became known as early as the fourteenth century. We have a collection of ballades written in French by Gower, consisting of stanzas of either eight or seven (rhyme royal) decasyllabic lines with the same rhyme throughout the poem. Similar to the French versions are Chaucer’s English ballades found in his Minor Poems, which differ from the standard form in that the envoi consists of five, six, or seven lines; in some poems, there isn't an envoi at all. Accurate reproductions of the Old French ballade didn't appear again until recent times. There are examples by Austin Dobson and especially by Swinburne (A Midsummer Holiday, London, 1884). They come in both forms, consisting of four- and five-foot iambic, as well as six-, seven-, or eight-foot trochaic or five- and seven-foot iambic-anapaestic verses. (For specimens see Metrik, ii, § 588.)
§ 328. The Chant Royal is an extended ballade of five ten-lined ballade-stanzas (of the second form mentioned above), instead of three, together with an envoi. In Clément Marot we meet with another form of five eleven-line stanzas of decasyllabic verses also with the same rhymes throughout; the envoi having five lines. The scheme is a b a b c c d d e d E in the stanzas and d d e d E in the envoi.
§ 328. The Chant Royal is a long ballade made up of five ten-line ballade stanzas (of the second type mentioned earlier), instead of three, along with an envoi. In Clément Marot, we come across another version with five eleven-line stanzas of ten-syllable verses that also maintain the same rhyme scheme throughout; the envoi consists of five lines. The pattern is a b a b c c d d e d E in the stanzas and d d e d E in the envoi.
A Chant Royal by Gosse, composed on this difficult model (perhaps the only specimen to be found in English poetry), is quoted Metrik, ii, § 589.
A Chant Royal by Gosse, created using this challenging format (possibly the only example in English poetry), is referenced Metrik, ii, § 589.
A more detailed discussion of these French poetical forms of a fixed character and of others not imitated in English poetry may be found in Kastner’s History of French Versification (Oxford, at the Clarendon Press, 1903), chapter x. Cf. also Edmund Stengel, Romanische Verslehre, in Gröber’s Grundriss der Romanischen Philologie (Strassburg, 1893), vol. ii, pp. 87 ff.
A more detailed discussion of these fixed French poetic forms and others not found in English poetry can be found in Kastner’s History of French Versification (Oxford, at the Clarendon Press, 1903), chapter x. See also Edmund Stengel, Romanische Verslehre, in Gröber’s Grundriss der Romanischen Philologie (Strassburg, 1893), vol. ii, pp. 87 ff.
OXFORD: HORACE HART M.A.
PRINTER TO THE UNIVERSITY
OXFORD: HORACE HART M.A.
PRINTER TO THE UNIVERSITY
NOTES
[1] Zur Geschichte der deutschen Sprache, zweite Ausgabe, p. 624, Berlin, 1868.
[1] On the History of the German Language, second edition, p. 624, Berlin, 1868.
[2] Metrik der Griechen, 1a, 500.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Metrik der Griechen, 1a, 500.
[3] It should be remarked that in Sanskrit, as in the classical languages, that prominence of one of the syllables of a word, which is denoted by the term ‘accent’, was originally marked by pitch or elevation of tone, and that in the Teutonic languages the word-accent is one of stress or emphasis.
[3] It's important to note that in Sanskrit, like in classical languages, the emphasis on one of the syllables of a word, referred to as 'accent', was originally indicated by pitch or tone. In contrast, in the Germanic languages, the word accent is based on stress or emphasis.
[4] Handbook of Phonetics, § 263.
[5] Die physiologischen Grundlagen der neuhochdeutschen Verskunst, 1871, p. 2.
[5] The Physiological Foundations of Modern German Poetry, 1871, p. 2.
[6] Sweet, Handbook of Phonetics, Oxford, 1877, p. 92.
[6] Sweet, Handbook of Phonetics, Oxford, 1877, p. 92.
[7] Cf. Transactions of the Philological Society, 1875–6, London, 1877, pp. 397 ff.; Chapters on English Metre, by Prof. J. B. Mayor, 2nd ed., pp. 5 ff.
[7] See Transactions of the Philological Society, 1875–6, London, 1877, pp. 397 and following; Chapters on English Metre, by Prof. J. B. Mayor, 2nd ed., pp. 5 and following.
[8] Transact., p. 398.
[9] They are used by Puttenham, The Arte of English Poesy, 1589, Arber’s reprint, p. 141.
[9] They are referenced by Puttenham in The Arte of English Poesy, 1589, Arber’s reprint, p. 141.
[10] J. Grimm’s ed. of Andreas and Elene, 1840, pp. lv ff.
[10] J. Grimm’s edition of Andreas and Elene, 1840, pp. lv ff.
[11] Cf. Lehrs, de Aristarchi studiis Homericis, 1865, p. 475.
[11] See Lehrs, de Aristarchi studiis Homericis, 1865, p. 475.
[12] Cf. J. Huemer, Untersuchungen über die ältesten lateinisch-christlichen Rhythmen, Vienna, 1879, p. 60.
[12] Cf. J. Huemer, Untersuchungen über die ältesten lateinisch-christlichen Rhythmen, Vienna, 1879, p. 60.
[13] In the Icelandic terminology this is skothending, Möbius, Háttatal, ii, p. 2.
[13] In Icelandic, this is called skothending, Möbius, Háttatal, ii, p. 2.
[15] Tacitus, Germania, cap. 2.
Tacitus, Germania, ch. 2.
[16] Grein-Wülker, iii. 1, p. 156.
[17] The influence of the Latin system on Otfrid is clear from his own words, I. i. 21.
[17] Otfrid’s words, I. i. 21, clearly show how much the Latin system influenced him.
[18] For a review of recent metrical theories see Sievers, Altgermanische Metrik, 1893, pp. 2–17, and his article on metre in Paul’s Grundriss, ii. 2.
[18] For a look at the latest metrical theories, check out Sievers, Altgermanische Metrik, 1893, pp. 2–17, and his article on meter in Paul’s Grundriss, ii. 2.
[19] Cf. Lachmann, ‘Über althochdeutsche Betonung und Verskunst,’ Schriften, ii. 358 ff., and ‘Über das Hildebrandslied’, ib., ii. 407 ff.
[19] See Lachmann, "On Old High German Accentuation and Poetics," Writings, ii. 358 ff., and "On the Hildebrandslied", ib., ii. 407 ff.
[20] Germania, iii, p. 7.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Germania, iii, p. 7.
[21] Zeitschrift für deutsches Altertum, i, p. 318, and de Carmine Wessofontano, 1861, p. 10.
[21] Magazine for German Antiquity, i, p. 318, and About the Poem Wessofontano, 1861, p. 10.
[23] ‘Grundzüge der altgermanischen Metrik,’ Zeitschrift für deutsche Philologie, ii. 114 ff.
[23] ‘Basics of Old German Metrics’ Journal of German Philology, ii. 114 ff.
[24] Ibid., iii. 280 ff.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Ibid., iii. 280+,
[25] Zur althochdeutschen Alliterationspoesie, Kiel and Leipzig.
[25] Zur althochdeutschen Alliterationspoesie, Kiel and Leipzig.
[26] John Lawrence, Chapters on Alliterative Verse, London, 1893; reviewed by K. Luick, Anglia, Beiblatt iv, pp. 193, 201.
[26] John Lawrence, Chapters on Alliterative Verse, London, 1893; reviewed by K. Luick, Anglia, Beiblatt iv, pp. 193, 201.
[27] Möller’s own notation; Lawrence’s sign for the rest is a small point, and his sign for the end of a section is a thick point.
[27] Möller’s own notation; Lawrence uses a small dot to indicate the rest, and a thick dot to mark the end of a section.
[28] Untersuchungen zur westgermanischen Verskunst I, Leipzig, 1889; ‘Zur Metrik des alts. und althochd. Alliterationsverses,’ Germania, xxxvi. 139 ff., 279 ff.; ‘Der altdeutsche Reimvers und sein Verhältnis zur Alliterationspoesie,’ Zeitschrift für deutsches Altertum, xxxviii. 304 ff.
[28] Studies on West Germanic Verse Art I, Leipzig, 1889; "On the Meter of Old Saxon and Old High German Alliterative Verse," Germania, xxxvi. 139 ff., 279 ff.; "The Old German Rhymed Verse and Its Connection to Alliterative Poetry," Journal for Germanic Antiquity, xxxviii. 304 ff.
[29] Die Metrik des westgermanischen Alliterationsverses, Marburg, 1892.
[29] The Metrics of the West Germanic Alliterative Verse, Marburg, 1892.
[30] Paul’s Grundriss der germanischen Philologie, ed. I, ii. i. 518.
[30] Paul’s Grundriss der germanischen Philologie, ed. I, ii. i. 518.
[31] Der altenglische Vers: I. Kritik der bisherigen Theorien, 1894; II. Die Metrik des Beowulfliedes, 1894; III. Die Metrik der sog. Caedmonischen Dichtungen, &c., 1895. This last part is by F. Graz. These are reviewed by K. Luick, Anglia, Beiblatt iv. 294; M. Trautmann, ib., iv. 131; vi. 1–4; Saran, Zeitschrift für deutsche Philologie, xxvii. 539.
[31] The Old English Verse: I. Critique of Previous Theories, 1894; II. The Metrics of the Beowulf Poem, 1894; III. The Metrics of the So-Called Caedmonian Poems, &c., 1895. This last part is by F. Graz. These are reviewed by K. Luick, Anglia, Beiblatt iv. 294; M. Trautmann, ib., iv. 131; vi. 1–4; Saran, Journal of German Philology, xxvii. 539.
[32] Geschichte der deutschen Litteratur, 1894, i. 228, and Ergänzungsheft zu Band I, Die altsächsische Genesis, 1895, p. 28 ff.
[32] History of German Literature, 1894, vol. 1, p. 228, and Supplement to Volume I, The Old Saxon Genesis, 1895, p. 28 and following.
[33] ‘Zur Kenntniss des germanischen Verses, vornehmlich des altenglischen,’ in Anglia, Beiblatt v. 87 ff.
[33] ‘Understanding Germanic verse, especially Old English,’ in Anglia, Supplement v. 87 ff.
[35] Certayne notes of Instruction concerning the making of verse or ryme in English, 1575; Arber’s reprint, London, 1868, p. 34.
[35] Certain notes of instruction about creating verse or rhyme in English, 1575; Arber’s reprint, London, 1868, p. 34.
[36] Ane Schort Treatise, conteining some Revlis and Cautelis to be obseruit and eschewit in Scottis poesie, 1585, pp. 63 ff. of Arber’s reprint. The scheme would be ` ` ´ ` ` ´ ` ` ´ ` ` ´ `.
[36] Ane Schort Treatise, containing some Rules and Cautions to be observed and avoided in Scottish poetry, 1585, pp. 63 ff. of Arber’s reprint. The scheme would be ` ` ´ ` ` ´ ` ` ´ ` ` ´ `.
[37] From Hickes’s Antiq. Literat. Septentrional., tom. i, p. 217.
[37] From Hickes’s Antiq. Literat. Septentrional., vol. i, p. 217.
[38] It is now well known that this innovation was introduced much earlier.
[38] It's now widely recognized that this innovation was introduced much earlier.
[39] From Alexander Montgomery, The Flyting, &c., l. 476.
[39] From Alexander Montgomery, The Flyting, &c., l. 476.
[40] ‘Über den Versbau der alliterierenden Poesie, besonders der Altsachsen,’ Bay. Akademie der Wissenschaften, philos.-histor. Classe, iv. 1, p. 207 ff.
[40] 'On the Verse Structure of Alliterative Poetry, Especially of the Old Saxons,' Bavarian Academy of Sciences, Philosophical-Historical Class, iv. 1, p. 207 ff.
[41] Litteraturgeschichte, p. 45 ff., second ed., p. 57.
[41] Litteraturgeschichte, p. 45 and following, second edition, p. 57.
[42] Über die germanische Alliterationspoesie, Vienna, 1872, and Zum Muspilli, &c., Vienna, 1872.
[42] About Germanic Alliterative Poetry, Vienna, 1872, and On Muspilli, etc., Vienna, 1872.
[43] ‘Über die Verstheilung der Edda,’ Zeitschr. für deutsche Phil., Ergänzungsband, p. 74.
[43] "Regarding the Interpretation of the Edda," Journal for German Philology., Supplement Volume, p. 74.
[44] Die Alt- und Angelsächsische Verskunst, Halle, 1876, reprinted from Z. f. d. Ph., vol. vii.
[44] The Old and Anglo-Saxon Verses, Halle, 1876, reprinted from Journal for Philosophy, vol. vii.
[45] The author’s larger work on English Metre was indebted in paragraphs 28–33 to Rieger’s essay; succeeding paragraphs (34–39) of the same work exhibited in detail the further development or rather decay of the Old English alliterative line.
[45] The author’s larger work on English Metre relied on Rieger’s essay in paragraphs 28–33; the following paragraphs (34–39) of the same work showed in detail the further development or rather decline of the Old English alliterative line.
[46] C. R. Horn, Paul und Braune’s Beiträge, v. 164; J. Ries, Quellen und Forschungen, xli. 112; E. Sievers, Zeitschr. f. deutsche Phil., xix. 43.
[46] C. R. Horn, Paul und Braune’s Beiträge, v. 164; J. Ries, Quellen und Forschungen, xli. 112; E. Sievers, Zeitschr. f. deutsche Phil., xix. 43.
[47] Paul und Braune’s Beiträge, x, 1885, pp. 209–314 and 491–545.
[47] Paul und Braune’s Beiträge, x, 1885, pp. 209–314 and 491–545.
[48] Sievers, Paul’s Grundriss, ii. 1, p. 863, or ii. 2, p. 4, second ed.
[48] Sievers, Paul’s Grundriss, vol. ii, part 1, p. 863, or vol. ii, part 2, p. 4, second edition.
[50] Ph. Frucht, Metrisches und Sprachliches zu Cynewulfs Elene, Juliana und Crist, Greifswald, 1887.
[50] Ph. Frucht, Metrisches und Sprachliches zu Cynewulfs Elene, Juliana und Crist, Greifswald, 1887.
[51] M. Cremer, Metrische und sprachliche Untersuchung der altengl. Gedichte Andreas, Gûðlâc, Phoenix, Bonn, 1888.
[51] M. Cremer, Metrische und sprachliche Untersuchung der altengl. Gedichte Andreas, Gûðlâc, Phoenix, Bonn, 1888.
[52] Altgermanische Metrik, Halle, 1893.
[53] Mainly by H. Möller, Das Volksepos in der ursprünglichen strophischen Form, Kiel, 1883.
[53] Mainly by H. Möller, Das Volksepos in der ursprünglichen strophischen Form, Kiel, 1883.
[54] Besides the unaccented syllables of polysyllabic words, many monosyllables, such as prepositions, pronouns, &c., are unstressed, and occur only in the theses.
[54] In addition to the unstressed syllables in multi-syllable words, many one-syllable words, like prepositions and pronouns, are also unstressed and only appear in the strong beats.
[55] This rule applies to modern English also, as in words like bírth-rìght.
[55] This rule also applies to modern English, as seen in words like bírth-rìght.
[56] If this cross alliteration is intentional. See Sievers, Altger. Metrik, p. 41.
[56] If this cross alliteration is intentional. See Sievers, Altger. Metrik, p. 41.
[57] See Koch, Historische Grammatik der englischen Sprache, Weimar, 1863, i. 156.
[57] See Koch, Historische Grammatik der englischen Sprache, Weimar, 1863, i. 156.
[58] Compare Streitberg, Urgermanische Grammatik, 1900, § 143, p. 167, or Wilmanns, Deutsche Grammatik, 1897, i, p. 407, § 349.
[58] Check out Streitberg, Urgermanische Grammatik, 1900, § 143, p. 167, or Wilmanns, Deutsche Grammatik, 1897, i, p. 407, § 349.
[59] For exceptions to these rules see Englische Metrik, i, pp. 43, 45.
[59] For exceptions to these rules, see Englische Metrik, i, pp. 43, 45.
[60] Koch adds wiðǽftan, wiðfóran, wiðnéoðan.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Koch adds wiðǽftan, wiðfóran, wiðnéoðan.
[61] Sievers, Beiträge, x. 225, and Angelsächsische Grammatik3, §§ 410, 411, 415.
[61] Sievers, Beiträge, x. 225, and Angelsächsische Grammatik3, §§ 410, 411, 415.
[62] For details on these points and on the question of the treatment of forms in which vowel contraction is exhibited in the MSS. see Sievers, Altgermanische Metrik, §§ 74–77, and Beiträge, x. 475 ff.
[62] For more information on these topics and the treatment of forms showing vowel contraction in the manuscripts, see Sievers, Altgermanische Metrik, §§ 74–77, and Beiträge, x. 475 ff.
[63] ‘Elements,’ Sweet, Anglo-Saxon Reader, § 365.
[65] See, for example, Rieger, Alt- und Angelsächsische Verskunst, p. 62.
[65] See, for instance, Rieger, Alt- und Angelsächsische Verskunst, p. 62.
[66] Paul-Braune’s Beiträge, x, p. 209.
[67] [67] For the type –́× × | –́see below, § 29, and Sievers, Paul-Braune’s Beiträge, x, p. 262.
[67] [67] For the type –́× × | –́see below, § 29, and Sievers, Paul-Braune’s Beiträge, x, p. 262.
[68] Sievers, Paul-Braune’s Beiträge, x, p. 262.
[69] As Sievers calls them, Altgerm. Metrik, § 13. 2; they are marked A*, B*, &c.
[69] As Sievers refers to them, Altgerm. Metrik, § 13. 2; they are marked A*, B*, etc.
[70] The notation of Sievers for hemistichs with anacrusis (auftaktige Verse) is aA, aD, aE, &c.
[70] Sievers' notation for hemistichs with anacrusis (auftaktige Verse) is aA, aD, aE, etc.
[72] It must be remembered that ea, eo, &c., are diphthongs, and have not the value of two vowels.
[72] It's important to remember that ea, eo, etc., are diphthongs and should not be treated as two separate vowels.
[73] Sievers, Paul-Braune’s Beiträge, x, p. 233.
[74] Here n counts as a syllable, see Sievers, Angelsächsische Gram.,§ 141, and Altgerm. Metrik, § 79.
[74] Here n is counted as a syllable; see Sievers, Angelsächsische Gram., § 141, and Altgerm. Metrik, § 79.
[75] See the statistics in Sievers, Paul-Braune’s Beiträge, x, p. 290.
[75] See the statistics in Sievers, Paul-Braune’s Beiträge, x, p. 290.
[76] Sievers, Paul-Braune’s Beiträge, x. 241 and 294.
[76] Sievers, Paul-Braune's Beiträge, x. 241 and 294.
[78] Cf. Sievers, Altgermanische Metrik, § 15, 3 c, and § 116. 9.
[78] See Sievers, Altgermanische Metrik, § 15, 3 c, and § 116. 9.
[79] See Max Cremer, Metrische und sprachliche Untersuchungen der altenglischen Gedichte Andreas, Gūðlāc, Phoenix, &c., 1888, pp. 31 ff.; Sievers, Altgermanische Metrik, § 86; and chiefly Eduard Sokoll, ‘Zur Technik des altgermanischen Alliterationsverses,’ in Beiträge zur neueren Philologie, Vienna, 1902, pp. 351–65.
[79] See Max Cremer, Metrische und sprachliche Untersuchungen der altenglischen Gedichte Andreas, Gūðlāc, Phoenix, &c., 1888, pp. 31 ff.; Sievers, Altgermanische Metrik, § 86; and mainly Eduard Sokoll, 'On the technique of Old Germanic alliterative verse,' in Beiträge zur neueren Philologie, Vienna, 1902, pp. 351–65.
[80] But on this last expression see Sievers, Phonetik4, § 359.
[80] But for this last expression, refer to Sievers, Phonetik4, § 359.
[82] The Old Norse hofuðstafr, Germ. Hauptstab. The alliterations in the first hemistich are called in Old Norse stuðlar (sing. stuðill) ‘supporters’, Germ. Stollen or Stützen.
[82] The Old Norse hofuðstafr, German Hauptstab. The alliterations in the first half-line are referred to in Old Norse as stuðlar (sing. stuðill) meaning ‘supporters’, German Stollen or Stützen.
[83] Sievers, Altgerm. Metrik, § 20.
[84] This is not very common in poetry of the more regular metrical structure, but is found in Ælfric’s lines, in which we find hemistichs without any alliterating letter, and others where the alliteration is continued in the following line; two-thirds, however, of his lines are formed quite correctly.
[84] This isn't very common in poetry with a regular meter, but you can see it in Ælfric’s lines, where there are half-lines without any alliterating letter, and others where the alliteration carries over into the next line; however, about two-thirds of his lines are written correctly.
[85] Snorri, the Icelandic metrician, permits this in the case of certain monosyllabic words, but looks on it as a licence (leyfi en eigi rétt setning, Hāttatal, p. 596).
[85] Snorri, the Icelandic poet, allows this for some one-syllable words, but considers it a license (leyfi en eigi rétt setning, Hāttatal, p. 596).
[86] The subject of the preceding paragraphs was first investigated by M. Rieger in his essay Alt- und Angelsächsische Verskunst, p. 18, where many details will be found.
[86] The topic discussed in the previous paragraphs was first explored by M. Rieger in his essay Alt- und Angelsächsische Verskunst, p. 18, where you can find many details.
[87] Cf. Sievers in Paul-Braune’s Beiträge, xii. 455; K. Luick, ib., xiii. 389, xv. 441; F. Kaufmann, ib., xv. 360; Sievers, in Paul’s Grundriss, pp. 891 ff., and in Altgermanische Metrik, §§ 88–96.
[87] See Sievers in Paul-Braune’s Beiträge, xii. 455; K. Luick, ib., xiii. 389, xv. 441; F. Kaufmann, ib., xv. 360; Sievers, in Paul’s Grundriss, pp. 891 ff., and in Altgermanische Metrik, §§ 88–96.
[88] In Paul-Braune’s Beiträge, xii, pp. 454, 455, Sievers gives a list of the undoubted regular lengthened verses occurring in OE. poetry.
[88] In Paul-Braune’s Beiträge, xii, pp. 454, 455, Sievers provides a list of the clearly established regular lengthened verses found in Old English poetry.
[89] Sievers discusses the lengthened verses of these poems in Beiträge, xii. 479.
[89] Sievers talks about the extended verses of these poems in Beiträge, xii. 479.
[90] Beiträge, xii. 458.
[91] Beiträge, xiii. 388, xv. 445.
[92] Altgermanische Metrik, § 94. 3.
[93] Altgermanische Metrik, § 95.
[94] See Sievers, Altgerm. Metrik, § 97.
[95] For other subdivisions of rhyme see Sievers, Altgerm. Metrik, §§ 99–102, with the treatises on the subject, and Bk. II, sect. ii, ch. 1 of this work.
[95] For more details on different types of rhyme, check out Sievers, Altgerm. Metrik, §§ 99–102, along with the related essays, and Book II, section ii, chapter 1 of this text.
[96] Some less important examples, of which the metrical character is not quite clear, are mentioned by Luick, Paul’s Grundriss, ed. 2, II. ii. p. 144.
[96] Some less significant examples, where the rhythmic pattern is not entirely clear, are noted by Luick in Paul’s Grundriss, ed. 2, II. ii. p. 144.
[97] In this passage and for the future we refrain from indicating the quantity of the vowels. The rhythmic accentuation is omitted, as being very uncertain in this passage.
[97] In this section and moving forward, we won't specify the number of vowels. The rhythm accents are left out due to their uncertainty in this passage.
[98] Viz. the so-called Proverbs of King Alfred (ed. by R. Morris, E.E.T.S., vol. XLIX), and Layamon’s Brut, ed. by Sir Frederic Madden, London, 1847, 2 vols.
[98] That is, the so-called Proverbs of King Alfred (edited by R. Morris, E.E.T.S., vol. XLIX), and Layamon’s Brut, edited by Sir Frederic Madden, London, 1847, 2 volumes.
[99] Paul’s Grundriss, ed. 2, II. ii. p. 10, and Altgermanische Metrik, p. 139.
[99] Paul’s Grundriss, 2nd ed., II. ii. p. 10, and Altgermanische Metrik, p. 139.
[100] On the nature of these rhymes, cf. § 53 and the author’s paper, ‘Metrische Randglossen,’ in Englische Studien, x. 192 ff., chiefly pp. 199–200.
[100] For information on the nature of these rhymes, see § 53 and the author's paper, 'Metrical marginal notes,' in Englische Studien, x. 192 ff., especially pp. 199–200.
[101] In Paul’s Grundriss, ed. 2, II. ii. pp. 145–7.
[101] In Paul's Grundriss, ed. 2, II. ii. pp. 145–7.
[102] Cf. our remarks in Book I, Part II, on the Septenary Verse in combination with other metres.
[102] See our comments in Book I, Part II, on the Septenary Verse along with other meters.
[103] Cf. Wissmann, King Horn, pp. 59–62, and Metrik, i, pp. 189–90.
[103] See Wissmann, King Horn, pp. 59–62, and Metrik, i, pp. 189–90.
[104] Signs of Death in Old Engl. Misc. (E. E. T. S.), p. 101.
[104] Signs of Death in Old Engl. Misc. (E. E. T. S.), p. 101.
[105] Cf. Hall’s edition (Clar. Press, 1901), pp. xlv-l, where our views on the origin and structure of the metre are adopted.
[105] See Hall’s edition (Clar. Press, 1901), pp. xlv-l, where our views on the origin and structure of the meter are adopted.
[106] See Paul’s Grundriss, ed. 2, II. ii. p. 156.
[106] See Paul’s Grundriss, 2nd ed., II. ii. p. 156.
[107] This view has been combated by the author. The stages of the discussion are to be found in articles by Einenkel, Anglia, v. Anz. 47; Trautmann, ibid. 118; Einenkel’s edition of St. Katherine, E. E. T. S. 80; the author’s ‘Metrische Randglossen’, Engl. Studien, ix. 184; ibid. 368; and Anglia, viii. Anz. 246. According to our opinion Otfrid’s verse was never imitated in England, nor was it known at all in Old or Middle English times.
[107] The author has disputed this view. The stages of the discussion can be found in articles by Einenkel, Anglia, v. Anz. 47; Trautmann, ibid. 118; Einenkel’s edition of St. Katherine, E. E. T. S. 80; the author’s ‘Metric Marginal Notes’, Engl. Studien, ix. 184; ibid. 368; and Anglia, viii. Anz. 246. In our opinion, Otfrid’s verse was never imitated in England, nor was it known at all in Old or Middle English times.
[108] This line is inaccurately quoted by King James from the poet Alexander Montgomerie, who lived at his court. It should read as follows:—
[108] This line is wrongly quoted by King James from the poet Alexander Montgomerie, who lived at his court. It should read as follows:—
[109] Cf. the writer’s paper ‘Zur Zweihebungstheorie der alliterierenden Halbzeile’ in Englische Studien v. 488–93.
[109] See the writer’s paper ‘On the Two Raising Theory of Alliterative Half Lines’ in Englische Studien v. 488–93.
[110] Cf. Chapters on Alliterative Verse by John Lawrence, D. Litt. London: H. Frowde. 1893. 8^o (chapter iii).
[110] Cf. Chapters on Alliterative Verse by John Lawrence, D. Litt. London: H. Frowde. 1893. 8^o (chapter iii).
[111] ‘Die englische Stabreimzeile im 14., 15., 16. Jahrhundert’ (Anglia, xi. 392–443, 553–618).
[111] "The English Alliterative Line in the 14th, 15th, and 16th Centuries" (Anglia, xi. 392–443, 553–618).
[112] Prof. Luick, in his longer treatise on the subject (Anglia, xi. 404), distinguishes between two forms of this type with anacrusis (×–́××–́) and without (–́××–́), which he calls A1 and A2, a distinction he has rightly now abandoned (Paul’s Grundriss, ed. 2, II. ii. p. 165).
[112] Prof. Luick, in his longer paper on the topic (Anglia, xi. 404), makes a distinction between two forms of this type with anacrusis (×–́××–́) and without (–́××–́), which he refers to as A1 and A2, a distinction he has sensibly abandoned now (Paul’s Grundriss, ed. 2, II. ii. p. 165).
[113] Also printed in Ritson’s Ancient Songs, i, p. 12; Wright’s Pol. Songs, p. 69; Mätzner’s Altenglische Sprachproben, i, p. 152; Böddeker’s Altenglische Dichtungen, Pol. Lieder, no. i.
[113] Also printed in Ritson’s Ancient Songs, vol. 1, p. 12; Wright’s Pol. Songs, p. 69; Mätzner’s Altenglische Sprachproben, vol. 1, p. 152; Böddeker’s Altenglische Dichtungen, Pol. Lieder, no. 1.
[115] Cf. Metrik, ii. 146; and Luick, Anglia, xii. 450, 451.
[115] Cf. Metrik, ii. 146; and Luick, Anglia, xii. 450, 451.
[116] See G. Gascoigne, Certayne Notes of Instruction concerning the making of verse or ryme in English, 1575, in Arber’s Reprints, together with The Steele Glas, &c., London, 1868, 8vo, p. 34.
[116] See G. Gascoigne, Some Notes on Writing Verse or Rhyme in English, 1575, in Arber’s Reprints, along with The Steele Glas, etc., London, 1868, 8vo, p. 34.
[117] Bürger’s version Der Kaiser und der Abt introduces a regular alternation of masculine and feminine couplets not observed in the original metre which he is copying.
[117] Bürger’s version Der Kaiser und der Abt features a consistent mix of masculine and feminine couplets that aren't seen in the original meter he's imitating.
[118] Cf. the chapter on the four-foot iambic verse.
[118] See the chapter on four-foot iambic verse.
[119] Recognized by Bishop Percy (1765) as rhythmically equivalent to
[119] Recognized by Bishop Percy (1765) as rhythmically equivalent to
and
and
[120] This alliterative-rhyming long line is scanned by the contemporary metrist King James VI in the manner indicated by the accents.
[120] This alliterative-rhyming long line is read by the modern poet King James VI as shown by the stresses.
[121] The second of these lines is thus marked by Gascoigne as having four stresses.
[121] Gascoigne identifies the second of these lines as having four beats.
[122] We retain the MS. reading; see Sievers, Altgerm. Metrik, p. 17.
[122] We keep the manuscript reading; see Sievers, Altgerm. Metrik, p. 17.
[123] Horstmann, Altenglische Legenden, Neue Folge, p. 244.
[123] Horstmann, Old English Legends, New Series, p. 244.
[124] Percy’s Reliques, I. ii. 7.
[125] Quoted in Chambers’s Cyclop. of Eng. Lit., i. 242.
[125] Quoted in Chambers’s Cyclopedia of English Literature., i. 242.
[126] Ed. by J. Schipper, Quellen und Forschungen, xx.
[126] Ed. by J. Schipper, Sources and Research, xx.
[127] In the ‘tumbling’—or, to use the German name, the ‘gliding’ (gleitend) caesura or rhyme.
[127] In the ‘tumbling’—or, using the German term, the ‘gliding’ (gleitend) pause or rhyme.
[128] For the introduction and explanation of these technical terms cf. Fr. Diez, ‘Über den epischen Vers,’ in his Altromanische Sprachdenkmale, Bonn, 1846, 8vo, p. 53, and the author’s Englische Metrik, i, pp. 438, 441; ii, pp. 24–6.
[128] For an introduction and explanation of these technical terms, see Fr. Diez, ‘About the epic verse,’ in his Altromanische Sprachdenkmale, Bonn, 1846, 8vo, p. 53, and the author's Englische Metrik, vol. i, pp. 438, 441; vol. ii, pp. 24–6.
[129] The occurrence of this licence in Chaucer’s heroic verse has been disputed by ten Brink (Chaucer’s Sprache und Verskunst, p. 176) and others, but see Metrik, i. 462–3, and Freudenberger, Ueber das Fehlen des Auftaktes in Chaucer’s heroischem Verse, Erlangen, 1889.
[129] The presence of this license in Chaucer’s heroic poetry has been contested by ten Brink (Chaucer’s Sprache und Verskunst, p. 176) and others, but refer to Metrik, i. 462–3, and Freudenberger, Ueber das Fehlen des Auftaktes in Chaucer’s heroischem Verse, Erlangen, 1889.
[130] We therefore hold ten Brink to be wrong in asserting (Chaucer’s Sprache und Verskunst, § 307, 3. Anm.) that no redundant or hypermetrical syllable is permissible in the caesural pause of Chaucer’s iambic line of five accents, although he recognizes that in lines of four accents Chaucer admits the very same irregularity, which moreover has remained in use down to the present day. Cf. Skeat, Chaucer Canon, Oxford, 1900, pp. 31–3, and Schipper in Paul’s Grundriss, ed. 2, II. ii, pp, 217–18. On this point, as also on several others, Miss M. Bentinck Smith, the translator of ten Brink’s work, is of our opinion (cf. her Remarks on Chapter III of ten Brink’s Chaucer’s Sprache und Verskunst in The Modern Language Quarterly, vol. v, No. 1, April, 1902, pp. 13–19). A contrary view with regard to ‘extra syllables’ in the heroic and the blank-verse line (sixteenth and seventeenth centuries) is taken by A. P. van Dam and Cornelis Stoffel, Chapters on English Printing, Prosody, and Pronunciation (1550–1700), Heidelberg, 1902 (Anglistische Forschungen herausgegeben von Dr. Johannes Hoops, Heft 9), pp. 48–113.
[130] We believe ten Brink is mistaken in stating (Chaucer’s Sprache und Verskunst, § 307, 3. Anm.) that no extra or hypermetrical syllable is allowed in the caesural pause of Chaucer’s iambic lines of five accents, even though he acknowledges that in lines of four accents, Chaucer permits the same irregularity, which has persisted into modern times. See Skeat, Chaucer Canon, Oxford, 1900, pp. 31–3, and Schipper in Paul’s Grundriss, ed. 2, II. ii, pp, 217–18. On this matter, as well as on several others, Miss M. Bentinck Smith, the translator of ten Brink’s work, shares our view (see her Remarks on Chapter III of ten Brink’s Chaucer’s Sprache und Verskunst in The Modern Language Quarterly, vol. v, No. 1, April, 1902, pp. 13–19). A different perspective regarding ‘extra syllables’ in the heroic and the blank-verse lines (sixteenth and seventeenth centuries) is presented by A. P. van Dam and Cornelis Stoffel, Chapters on English Printing, Prosody, and Pronunciation (1550–1700), Heidelberg, 1902 (Anglistische Forschungen herausgegeben von Dr. Johannes Hoops, Heft 9), pp. 48–113.
[131] Cf. the lines from Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 31, quoted on p. 98.
[131] See the lines from Wright’s Spec. of Lyr. Poetry, p. 31, quoted on p. 98.
[132] Cf. Parson’s Prologue, 42–3.
[133] In the reading of the Bible and Liturgy the older syllabic pronunciation of certain endings is still common, and it is occasionally heard in sermons, where a more elevated and poetical kind of diction is admissible than would be used in secular oratory.
[133] In Bible readings and liturgies, the traditional syllabic pronunciation of certain endings is still commonly used, and it's sometimes heard in sermons, where a more elevated and poetic style is acceptable compared to what would be used in secular speeches.
[134] See ten Brink, Chaucer’s Sprache und Verskunst, § 260.
[134] See ten Brink, Chaucer’s Language and Poetics, § 260.
[135] Cf. Luick, Anglia, xi. 591–2.
[136] Cf. King James I, The Kingis Quair, ed. by W. W. Skeat, 1883–4.
[136] Cf. King James I, The Kingis Quair, ed. by W. W. Skeat, 1883–4.
[137] Cf. Metrik, ii. 101–3 note.
[139] A long list of the words so treated is to be found in Abbott, Shakespearian Grammar, § 460.
[139] You can find a long list of the words that are handled this way in Abbott, Shakespearian Grammar, § 460.
[140] Cf. Abbott, § 477; Ellis, E. E. Pr., iii. 951–2; Metrik, ii, 117–18.
[140] Cf. Abbott, § 477; Ellis, E. E. Pr., iii. 951–2; Metrik, ii, 117–18.
[141] See ten Brink, The Language and Metre of Chaucer (English transl.), § 280, where the metrical treatment of these words is described. The German term used by ten Brink is Anlehnungen.
[141] See ten Brink, The Language and Metre of Chaucer (English transl.), § 280, where the metrical treatment of these words is explained. The German term used by ten Brink is Anlehnungen.
[142] Old English Homilies, ed. R. Morris, First Series, Part I, E.E.T.S., No. 29, pp. 55–71.
[142] Old English Homilies, ed. R. Morris, First Series, Part I, E.E.T.S., No. 29, pp. 55–71.
[143] Cf. Charles L. Crow, On the History of the Short Couplet in Middle English. Dissert., Göttingen, 1892.
[143] Cf. Charles L. Crow, On the History of the Short Couplet in Middle English. Dissert., Göttingen, 1892.
[144] Cf. John Heywood als Dramatiker, von Wilh. Swoboda, 1888, p. 83 ff.
[144] Cf. John Heywood als Dramatiker, by Wilh. Swoboda, 1888, p. 83 ff.
[145] Cf. our metrical notes (‘Metrische Randglossen’) in Engl. Studien, x, p. 192 seq.
[145] Cf. our metrical notes ("Metrical Marginalia") in Engl. Studien, x, p. 192 seq.
[146] In Old English Homilies, ed. R. Morris, pp. 190ff.
[146] In Old English Homilies, ed. R. Morris, pp. 190ff.
[147] Trautmann, Anglia, v, Anz., p. 124; Einenkel, ibid., 74; Menthel, Anglia, viii, Anz., p. 70.
[147] Trautmann, Anglia, v, Anz., p. 124; Einenkel, same source, 74; Menthel, Anglia, viii, Anz., p. 70.
[148] According to Guest (ii. 233) ‘because the poulterer, as Gascoigne tells us, giveth twelve for one dozen and fourteen for another’.
[148] According to Guest (ii. 233), "because the poulterer, as Gascoigne tells us, gives twelve for a dozen and fourteen for another."
[149] These poems are also printed in Böddeker, Altengl. Dichtungen, Geistl. Lieder, xviii, Weltl. Lieder, xiv.
[149] These poems are also included in Böddeker, Altengl. Dichtungen, Spiritual Songs, xviii, Secular Songs, xiv.
[150] Chaucer’s Sprache und Verskunst, § 305, note.
[150] Chaucer’s Language and Poetic Art, § 305, note.
[151] The verses he calls five-foot lines have, on the other hand, decidedly not this structure, but are four-foot lines with unaccented rhymes; for a final word in the line, such us wrécfúl, as is assumed by Ten Brink, with the omission of an unaccented syllable between the last two accents, would be utterly inconsistent with the whole character of this metre.
[151] The lines he refers to as five-foot lines actually don’t have that structure; they are four-foot lines with unaccented rhymes. A final word in the line, like wrécfúl, as Ten Brink assumes, with an unaccented syllable dropped between the last two accents, would be completely inconsistent with the overall nature of this meter.
[152] According to Ten Brink, Chaucer’s Sprache und Verskunst, § 305, the shifting character of Chaucer’s caesura was chiefly caused by his acquaintance with the Italian endecasillabo. This influence may have come in later, but even in Chaucer’s early Compleynt to Pitee (according to Ten Brink, Geschichte der englischen Literatur, ii. p. 49, his first poem written under the influence of the French decasyllabic verse) the caesura is here moveable, though not to the same extent as in the later poems. The liability of the caesura to shift its position was certainly considerably increased by the accentual character of English rhythm. On the untenableness of his assertion, that in Chaucer’s five-accent verse the epic caesura is unknown, cf. p. 145 (footnote), Metrik, ii. 101–3 note, and Schipper in Paul’s Grundriss, ed. 2, II. ii, pp. 217–21.
[152] According to Ten Brink, Chaucer’s Sprache und Verskunst, § 305, the changing nature of Chaucer’s caesura was largely due to his knowledge of the Italian endecasillabo. This influence may have developed later, but even in Chaucer’s early Compleynt to Pitee (as per Ten Brink, Geschichte der englischen Literatur, ii. p. 49, his first poem written under the influence of French decasyllabic verse), the caesura is movable, though not to the same degree as in his later works. The tendency for the caesura to move around was definitely increased by the accentual nature of English rhythm. Regarding the invalidity of his claim that the epic caesura is absent in Chaucer's five-accent verse, see p. 145 (footnote), Metrik, ii. 101–3 note, and Schipper in Paul’s Grundriss, ed. 2, II. ii, pp. 217–21.
[153] For the accentuation of the word cf. inter alia rhymes such as mérie: Cáunterbúry, Prol. 801–2, and Schipper, l.c., pp. 217–18.
[153] For the emphasis on the word see inter alia rhymes like mérie: Cáunterbúry, Prol. 801–2, and Schipper, l.c., pp. 217–18.
[154] This definition is also given by Milton in his introductory note on ‘The Verse’ prefixed in 1668 to Paradise Lost.
[154] This definition is also provided by Milton in his introductory note on 'The Verse,' which was added in 1668 to Paradise Lost.
[155] Cf. Metrik, ii. §§ 132–5.
[156] Cf. Metrik, ii. §§ 136–46.
[157] Cf. on this subject the essays and treatises by T. Mommsen, Abbott, Furnivall, Ingram, Hertzberg, Fleay, A.J. Ellis (On Early English Pronunciation, iii), &c. (quoted Metrik, ii, p. 259); besides G. König, Der Vers in Shakspere’s Dramen, Strassburg, Trübner, 1888, 8^o (Quellen und Forschungen, 61); Der Couplet-Reim in Shakspere’s Dramen (Dissertation), von J. Heuser, Marburg, 1893, 8; H. Krumm, Die Verwendung des Reims in dem Blankverse des englischen Dramas zur Zeit Shaksperes, Kiel, 1889; H. Conrad, Metrische Untersuchungen zur Feststellung der Abfassungszeit von Shakspere’s Dramen (Shakespeare-Jahrbuch, xxx. 318–353); William Shakespeare, Prosody and Text, by B. A. P. van Dam and C. Stoffel, Leyden, 1900, 8^o; Chapters on English Printing Prosody, and Pronunciation (1550–1700), by B.A.P. van Dam and C. Stoffel, Heidelberg, 1902 (Anglistische Forschungen, ix).
[157] See on this topic the essays and studies by T. Mommsen, Abbott, Furnivall, Ingram, Hertzberg, Fleay, A.J. Ellis (On Early English Pronunciation, iii), etc. (quoted in Metrik, ii, p. 259); also G. König, Der Vers in Shakspere’s Dramen, Strassburg, Trübner, 1888, 8^o (Quellen und Forschungen, 61); Der Couplet-Reim in Shakspere’s Dramen (Dissertation), by J. Heuser, Marburg, 1893, 8; H. Krumm, Die Verwendung des Reims in dem Blankverse des englischen Dramas zur Zeit Shaksperes, Kiel, 1889; H. Conrad, Metrische Untersuchungen zur Feststellung der Abfassungszeit von Shakspere’s Dramen (Shakespeare-Jahrbuch, xxx. 318–353); William Shakespeare, Prosody and Text, by B. A. P. van Dam and C. Stoffel, Leyden, 1900, 8^o; Chapters on English Printing Prosody, and Pronunciation (1550–1700), by B.A.P. van Dam and C. Stoffel, Heidelberg, 1902 (Anglistische Forschungen, ix).
[158] I. 1587–1592; II. 1593–1600; III. 1600–1606; IV. 1606–1613; according to Dowden.
[158] I. 1587–1592; II. 1593–1600; III. 1600–1606; IV. 1606–1613; according to Dowden.
[159] Cf. Furnivall, p. xxviii.
[160] Cf. Mayor, Chapters on English Metre, pp. 174–7.
[160] See Mayor, Chapters on English Metre, pp. 174–7.
[161] Cf. Metrik, ii, § 154.
[162] Cf. Metrik, ii, § 161.
[163] Cf. N. Delius, Die Prosa in Shakespeares Dramen (Jahrbuch d. deutschen Shakespeare-Gesellschaft, v. 227–73).
[163] See N. Delius, Die Prosa in Shakespeares Dramen (Yearbook of the German Shakespeare Society, vol. 227–73).
[164] Cf. the Halle dissertations by Hannemann (on Ford, Oxford, 1889); Penner (on Peele, Braunschweig, 1890); Knaut (on Greene, 1890); Schulz (on Middleton, 1892); Elste (on Chapman, 1892); Kupka (on Th. Dekker, 1893); Meiners (on Webster, 1893); Clages (on Thomson and Young, 1892); and the criticism of some of them by Boyle, Engl. Studien, xix. 274–9.
[164] See the Halle dissertations by Hannemann (on Ford, Oxford, 1889); Penner (on Peele, Braunschweig, 1890); Knaut (on Greene, 1890); Schulz (on Middleton, 1892); Elste (on Chapman, 1892); Kupka (on Th. Dekker, 1893); Meiners (on Webster, 1893); Clages (on Thomson and Young, 1892); and the critiques of some of them by Boyle, Engl. Studien, xix. 274–9.
[166] Engl. Studien, iv-vii.
[167] On the many combinations of the three kinds of caesura in the different places of the verse, cf. Metrik, ii, pp. 28–31.
[167] On the various combinations of the three types of caesura in different locations within the verse, see Metrik, ii, pp. 28–31.
[168] Cf. Metrik, ii, §§ 179–185.
[169] See Englische Metrik, ii, §§ 188–90.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See Englische Metrik, ii, §§ 188–90.
[170] Cf. Metrik, ii, §§ 195–201.
[171] Cf. Metrik, ii, §§ 202–6.
[174] Cf. Metrik, ii, § 232.
[176] Cf. Metrik, ii, § 238.
[177] Cf. Metrik, ii, § 239.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ See Metrik, ii, § 239.
[179] Specimens of earlier hexameter verse with detailed bibliographical information may be found in our Metrik, ii, §§ 249–50; and especially in C. Elze’s thorough treatise on the subject, Der englische Hexameter. Programm des Gymnasiums zu Danzig, 1867. (Cf. F. E. Schelling, Mod. Lang. Notes, 1890, vii. 423–7.)
[179] You can find examples of earlier hexameter verse along with detailed bibliographical information in our Metrik, ii, §§ 249–50; and particularly in C. Elze’s comprehensive study on the topic, Der englische Hexameter. Program of the Gymnasium in Danzig, 1867. (See also F. E. Schelling, Mod. Lang. Notes, 1890, vii. 423–7.)
[180] The word stanza is explained by Skeat, Conc. Etym. Dict., as follows:
[180] The term "stanza" is defined by Skeat, Conc. Etym. Dict., like this:
‘STANZA. Ital. stanza, O.Ital. stantia, “a lodging, chamber, dwelling, also stance or staffe of verses;” Florio. So called from the stop or pause at the end of it.—Low Lat. stantia, an abode.—Lat. stant-, stem of pres. pt. of stare.’
‘STANZA. Ital. stanza, O.Ital. stantia, “a lodging, room, place to live, also stance or a unit of verses;” Florio. Named for the stop or pause at the end of it.—Low Lat. stantia, a dwelling.—Lat. stant-, root of the present participle of stare.’
[183] Cf. Sir Thomas Wyatt, von R. Alscher, Wien, 1886 pp. 119–23.
[183] See Sir Thomas Wyatt, by R. Alscher, Vienna, 1886, pages 119–23.
[184] By the German metrists it is called Binnenreim, or Innenreim.
[184] By German metric poets, it’s referred to as Binnenreim or Innenreim.
[185] So called from a poet Leo of the Middle Ages (c. 1150) who wrote in hexameters rhyming in the middle and at the end. Similar verses, however, had been used occasionally in classic Latin poetry, as e.g. Quot caelum stellas, tot habet tua Roma puellas, Ovid, Ars Amat. i. 59.
[185] Named after the poet Leo from the Middle Ages (around 1150) who wrote in hexameters with rhymes in the middle and at the end. However, similar verses had occasionally appeared in classical Latin poetry, like in Ovid's Quot caelum stellas, tot habet tua Roma puellas, Ars Amat. i. 59.
[186] See The Oxford Dante, pp. 379–400, or Opere minori di Dante Alighieri, ed. Pietro Fraticelli, vol. ii, p. 146, Florence, 1858, and Böhmer’s essay, Über Dante’s Schrift de vulgari eloquentia, Halle, 1868.
[186] See The Oxford Dante, pp. 379–400, or Minor Works of Dante Alighieri, ed. Pietro Fraticelli, vol. ii, p. 146, Florence, 1858, and Böhmer’s essay, On Dante's Work de vulgari eloquentia, Halle, 1868.
[187] See B. ten Brink, The Language and Metre of Chaucer, translated by M. Bentinck Smith. London, Macmillan & Co., 1901, 8º, § 350.
[187] See B. ten Brink, The Language and Metre of Chaucer, translated by M. Bentinck Smith. London, Macmillan & Co., 1901, 8º, § 350.
[188] Stanzas of six and twelve lines formed on the same principle (a a a b b b and a a b b c c d d e e f f) are very rare. For specimens see Metrik, ii, § 363.
[188] Stanzas with six and twelve lines structured in the same way (a a a b b b and a a b b c c d d e e f f) are quite uncommon. For examples, see Metrik, ii, § 363.
[189] Cf. O. Wilda, Über die örtli che Verbreitung der zwölfzeiligen Schweifreimstrophe in England, Breslau Dissertation, Breslau, 1887.
[189] See O. Wilda, On the Local Distribution of the Twelve-Line Rhymed Stanza in England, Breslau Dissertation, Breslau, 1887.
[190] This is a stanza of four iambic lines alternately of four and three feet with masculine endings, usually rhyming a b a b.
[190] This is a stanza made up of four iambic lines, alternating between four and three feet, with masculine endings, typically rhyming a b a b.
[191] Chaucerian and other Pieces, &c., ed. Skeat, Oxford, 1897, p. 347.
[191] Chaucerian and other Pieces, &c., ed. Skeat, Oxford, 1897, p. 347.
[192] This form of stanza is of great importance in the anisometrical ‘lays’, which cannot be discussed in this place (cf. Metrik, i, § 168). In these poems the strophic arrangement is not strictly followed throughout, but only in certain parts; a general conformity only is observed in these cases.
[192] This type of stanza is really important in the anisometrical ‘lays’, which can’t be covered here (see Metrik, i, § 168). In these poems, the strophic arrangement isn’t consistently applied, but rather followed only in specific sections; just a general consistency is maintained in these instances.
[193] As to this form cf. Huchown’s Pistel of Swete Susan, herausgeg. von Dr. H. Köster, Strassburg, 1895 (Quellen und Forschungen, 76), pp. 15–36.
[193] As for this form, see Huchown’s Pistel of Swete Susan, edited by Dr. H. Köster, Strasbourg, 1895 (Sources and Research, 76), pages 15–36.
[194] Cf. R. Brotanek, Alexander Montgomerie, Vienna, 1896.
[194] See R. Brotanek, Alexander Montgomerie, Vienna, 1896.
[195] It is worth noticing that there are also tripartite stanzas in Middle English, either allied to the bob-wheel stanza or belonging to it, both in lyric and dramatic poetry; e.g. the ten-lined stanza of a poem in Wright’s Songs and Carols (Percy Soc., 1847), p. 15, on the scheme A B A B C C C4 d1 D D4 (quoted in Metrik, i, p. 406); one of eleven lines according to the formula A A A4 B3 C C C4 B3 d1 B D3 in the Towneley Mysteries, p. 224 (quoted in Metrik, i, p. 407), and one of thirteen lines, used in a dialogue, corresponding to the scheme A B A B A A B A A B3 c1 B3 C2, ibid., pp. 135–9 (quoted in Metrik, i, p. 408).
[195] It's important to note that there are also three-part stanzas in Middle English, either linked to or part of the bob-wheel stanza, in both lyric and dramatic poetry; for instance, the ten-line stanza of a poem in Wright’s Songs and Carols (Percy Soc., 1847), p. 15, with the pattern A B A B C C C4 d1 D D4 (quoted in Metrik, i, p. 406); one of eleven lines following the formula A A A4 B3 C C C4 B3 d1 B D3 in the Towneley Mysteries, p. 224 (quoted in Metrik, i, p. 407), and one of thirteen lines used in a dialogue, following the pattern A B A B A A B A A B3 c1 B3 C2, ibid., pp. 135–9 (quoted in Metrik, i, p. 408).
[196] Cf. Karl Bartsch, ‘Der Strophenbau in der deutschen Lyrik’ (Germania, ii, p. 290).
[196] Cf. Karl Bartsch, 'The Structure of Stanzas in German Poetry' (Germania, ii, p. 290).
[197] For titles of books and essays on the sonnet see Englische Metrik, ii, pp. 836–7 note; cf. also L. Bladene, ‘Morfologia del Sonetto nei secoli XIII e XIV’ (Studi di Filologia Romanza, fasc. 10).
[197] For book and essay titles on the sonnet, see Englische Metrik, ii, pp. 836–7 note; also check L. Bladene, 'Morphology of the Sonnet in the 13th and 14th Centuries' (Studi di Filologia Romanza, fasc. 10).
[198] Cf. Étude sur Joachim du Bellay et son rôle dans la réforme de Ronsard, par G. Plötz. Berlin, Herbig, 1874, p. 24.
[198] Cf. Étude sur Joachim du Bellay et son rôle dans la réforme de Ronsard, par G. Plötz. Berlin, Herbig, 1874, p. 24.
[199] The Sonnet: Its Origin, Structure and Place in Poetry, London, 1874, 8º, p. 4.
[199] The Sonnet: Its Origin, Structure and Place in Poetry, London, 1874, 8º, p. 4.
[200] For certain other varieties occasionally used by these poets see Metrik, §§ 536 and 544–5.
[200] For some other types that these poets sometimes used, check out Metrik, §§ 536 and 544–5.
[201] Cf. Studien über A. M., von Oscar Hoffmann (Breslau Dissertation), Altenburg, 1894, p. 32; Engl. Studien, xx. 49 ff.; and Rud. Brotanek, Wiener Beiträge, vol. iii, pp. 122–3.
[201] See Studien über A. M. by Oscar Hoffmann (Breslau Dissertation), Altenburg, 1894, p. 32; Engl. Studien, xx. 49 ff.; and Rud. Brotanek, Wiener Beiträge, vol. iii, pp. 122–3.
[202] Cf. Wordsworth, Prose Works, ed. Grosart, 1876, vol. iii, p. 323, where he praises Milton for this peculiarity, showing thereby that he was influenced in his sonnet-writing by Milton.
[202] Cf. Wordsworth, Prose Works, ed. Grosart, 1876, vol. iii, p. 323, where he praises Milton for this uniqueness, demonstrating that he was influenced by Milton in his sonnet writing.
[203] On Wordsworth’s Sonnets see the Note on the Wordsworthian Sonnet by Mr. T. Hutchinson, in his edition of Poems in two volumes by William Wordsworth (1807), London, 1897, vol. i, p. 208.
[203] For information on Wordsworth’s Sonnets, refer to the note on the Wordsworthian Sonnet by Mr. T. Hutchinson in his edition of Poems in Two Volumes by William Wordsworth (1807), London, 1897, vol. i, p. 208.
[204] See Chaucer’s Works, edited by W. W. Skeat, Minor Poems, pp. 75–6, 310–11.
[204] See Chaucer’s Works, edited by W. W. Skeat, Minor Poems, pp. 75–6, 310–11.
[205] Cf. the essay by Gosse in The Cornhill Magazine, No. 211, July, 1877, pp. 53–71.
[205] Cf. the essay by Gosse in The Cornhill Magazine, No. 211, July, 1877, pp. 53–71.
[206] Französische Verslehre, Berlin, 1879, p. 388.
[206] French Versification, Berlin, 1879, p. 388.
[207] Ritson’s Ancient Songs, i. 128, written, it is true, in five-foot verses; the repetition of the two refrain-verses in the proper place, however, is not indicated in the edition, and a slight emendation of the text is also required by the sense, viz. hath sprung instead of that sprang in the last line.
[207] Ritson’s Ancient Songs, i. 128, is indeed written in five-foot verses; however, the edition does not show the repetition of the two refrain verses in the correct spots, and a small adjustment to the text is also needed for clarity, specifically hath sprung instead of that sprang in the last line.
[208] London, Chatto & Windus, 1833.
Transcriber’s Notes
Footnotes have been moved to the end of the text, and renumbered consecutively to be unique. The sole footnote reference on p. 250 was mis-numbered, and is corrected here as footnote 173.
Footnotes have been relocated to the end of the text and renumbered sequentially to ensure uniqueness. The only footnote reference on p. 250 was incorrectly numbered and is now corrected to footnote 173.
In sections § 25-30, the subtypes of line types A, B, C, etc. are printed as A1, but in later sections these are printed as subscripts A1, with subvarieties as A1a, etc. This practice was followed here as well.
In sections § 25-30, the subtypes of line types A, B, C, etc. are shown as A1, but in later sections, they are displayed as subscripts A1, with subvarieties as A1a, etc. This method was followed here as well.
There are cases where punctuation, spelling or spacing seem questionable, particularly in quoted matter. Where possible, these have been checked against images of the sources Schipper used. Corrections made to the text are as follows:
There are instances where punctuation, spelling, or spacing appear to be off, especially in quoted material. Whenever possible, these have been verified against images of the sources Schipper used. The corrections made to the text are as follows:
p. 46 | Beow. 499[,] 1542, 2095, 2930 | Missing comma added. |
p. 53 | ges[c´/é]aft | The accent on ‘c’ is likely a printer’s error. |
p. 76 | -en, -es, [-]eþ | Added missing hyphen. |
p. 88 | J. A. 31[.] | Added missing stop. |
p. 100 | Nou haþ prúde þe p[r´i/rí]s | The accent on ‘r’ is likely misplaced. |
p. 128 n 1. | Chambers’s Cyclop. of Eng. Lit[.], | Missing ‘.’ in abbreviation. |
p. 156 | in váyn: s[d/á]yen Sur. 31; | Probable printer’s error. |
p. 168 | prayer: p[r]ayr | Missing ‘r’ inserted. |
p. 169 | carry ’em (=carry them[)] | Closing ‘)’ inserted. |
p. 205 | How féw to g[oó/óo]d efféct | Accent should appear on first vowel. |
p. 216 | that búd and blóom forth[ ]bríngs | Missing space inserted. |
p. 224 | (1550–1700),[’] | Spurious apostrophe removed. |
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