Page:The grammar of English grammars.djvu/891

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  1. "Wild is thy \ lay, and loud,
            Far on the \ downy cloud;
        Love gives it \ energy, \ love gave it \ birth:
            Where, on thy \ dewy wing,
            Where art thou \ journeying?
        Thy lay \ is in heav\-en, thy love \ is on earth.

           "O'er moor and \ mountain green,
            O'er fell and \ fountain sheen,
        O'er the red \ streamer that \ heralds the \ day;
            Over the \ cloudlet dim,
            Over the \ rainbow's rim,
        Musical \ cherub, hie, \ hie thee a\-way.

           "Then, when the \ gloamin comes,
            Low in the \ heather blooms.
        Sweet will thy \ welcome and \ bed of love \ be.
            Emblem of \ happiness,
            Blest is thy \ dwelling-place;
        O! to a\-bide in the \ desert with \ thee!"

  2. It is observed by Churchill, (New Gram., p. 387,) that, "Shakspeare has used the dactyl, as appropriate to mournful occasions." The chief example which he cites, is the following:
    "Midnight, as\-sist our moan,
        Help us to \ sigh and groan
            Heavily, \ heavily.
        Graves, yawn and \ yield your dead,
        Till death be \ uttered
            Heavily, \ heavily."—Much Ado, V, 3

  3. These six lines of Dactylic (or Composite) Dimeter are subjoined by the poet to four of Trochaic Tetrameter. There does not appear to me to be any particular adaptation of either measure to mournful subjects, more than to others; but later instances of this metre may be cited, in which such is the character of the topic treated. The following long example consists of lines of two feet, most of them dactylic only; but, of the seventy-six, there are twelve which may be otherwise divided, and as many more which must be, because they commence with a short syllable.
    "THE BRIDGE OF SIGHS."—BY THOMAS HOOD.
       "One more un\-fortunate,
          Weary of \ breath,
        Rashly im\-portunate,
          Gone to her \ death!
        Take her up \ tenderly,
          Lift her with \ care;
        Fashioned so \ slenderly,
          Young, and so \ fair!

        Look at her \ garments
        Clinging like \ cerements,
        Whilst the wave \ constantly
          Drips from her \ clothing;
        Take her up \ instantly,
          Loving, not \ loathing.

        Touch her not \ scornfully;
        Think of her \ mournfully,
          Gently, and \ humanly;
        Not of the \ stains of her:
        All that re\-mains of her
          Now, is pure \ womanly.

        Make no deep \ scrutiny
        Into her \ mutiny,
          Rash and un\-dutifull;
        Past all dis\-honour,
        Death has left \ on her
          Only the \ beautiful.

        Still, for all \ slips of hers,—
          One of Eve's \ family,—
        Wipe those poor \ lips of hers,
          Oozing so \ clammily.
        Loop up her \ tresses,
          Escaped from the comb,—
        Her fair auburn tresses;
        Whilst wonderment guesses,
          Where was her \ home?

        Who was her \ father?
          Who was her \ mother?
        Had she a \ sister?
          Had she a \ brother?
        Was there a \ dearer one
          Yet, than all \ other?

        Alas, for the rarity
        Of Christian charity
          Under the \ sun!
        O, it was \ pitiful!
        Near a whole \ city full,
          Home she had \ none.

        Sisterly, \ brotherly,
        Fatherly, \ motherly,
          Feelings had \ changed;
        Love, by harsh \evidence,
        Thrown from its \eminence
        Even God's \ providence
          Seeming e\-stranged.

        Where the lamps \ quiver
        So far in the river,
          With many a light,
        From window and casement,
        From garret to basement,
        She stood, with amazement,
          Houseless, by \ night.

        The bleak wind of March
          Made her tremble and shiver;
        But not the dark arch,
          Or the black-flowing river:
        Mad from life's \ history,
        Glad to death's \ mystery,
          Swift to be \ hurled,—
        Anywhere, \ anywhere,
          Out of the \ world!

        In she plung'd \ boldly,—
        No matter how coldly
          The rough \ river ran,—
        Over the \ brink of it:
        Picture it, \ think of it,
          Dissolute \ man!"
            Clapp's Pioneer, p. 54.

  4. As each of our principal feet,—the Iambus, the Trochee, the Anapest, and the Dactyl,—has always one, and only one long syllable; it should follow, that, in each of our principal orders of verse,—the Iambic, the Trochaic, the Anapestic, and the Dactylic,—any line, not diversified by a secondary foot, must be reckoned to contain just as many feet as long syllables. So, too, of the Amphibrach, and any line reckoned Amphibrachic. But it happens, that the common error by which single-rhymed Trochaics have so often been counted a foot shorter than they are, is also extended by some writers to single-rhymed Dactylics—the rhyming syllable, if long, being esteemed supernumerary! For example, three dactylic stanzas, in each of which a pentameter couplet is followed by a hexameter line, and this again by a heptameter, are introduced by Prof. Hart thus: "The Dactylic Tetrameter, Pentameter, and Hexameter, with the additional or hypermeter syllable, are all found combined in the following extraordinary specimen of versification. * * * This is the only specimen of Dactylic hexameter or even pentameter verse that the author recollects to have seen."
    LAMENT OF ADAM.
       "Glad was our \ meeting: thy \ glittering \ bosom I \ heard,
        Beating on \ mine, like the \ heart of a \ timorous \ bird;
        Bright were thine \ eyes as the \ stars, and their \ glances were \ radiant as \ gleams
        Falling from \ eyes of the \ angels, when \ singing by \ Eden's pur\-pureal \ streams.