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English lyrical poetry from Us origins
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ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
English
Lyrical Poetry
FROM ITS ORIGINS TO THE
PRESENT TIME
By
EDWARD BLISS REED, Ph. D.
Assistant Professor of English at Yale College
New Haven : Yale University Press
London: Henivy Frowde
Oxford University Press
M CM XII
Copyright, 1918
BY
Yale University Press
First printed May, 1912. 1000 copies
TO
HENRY A. BEERS
PREFACE
There is at present no history of English Lyrical Poetry ;
it is with the idea of providing one that this volume is pub-
lished. While it offers a survey of the whole field, it does not
include every English writer of lyrics ; especially in the last
three chapters have the exigencies of limited space compelled
the omission of several important authors. It has been
necessary to limit further the scope of this volume by reduc-
ing to a minimum, or neglecting entirely, all biographical
details. With Burns, Moore, Blunt, Stevenson, and David-
son as chief exceptions, Irish and Scottish writers of lyrics
have not been considered.
This book represents, in part only, a series of sixty lec-
tures delivered annually since 1899 to members of the Senior
Class at Yale College. The writer trusts that it may not
only prove of interest to lovers of poetry, but that it may
be of use in college courses.
To thank my pupils and friends for much valuable sug-
gestion and criticism is an exceedingly pleasant obligation.
I am especially indebted to my colleagues, Professors W. L.
Cross, F. M. Warren, F. B. Luquiens, H. N. MacCracken,
and Mr. C. F. Tucker Brooke who has aided me, most oppor-
tunely, in the thankless task of reading final proof sheets
and in preparing the index. To Professor Henry A. Beers,
who proposed this work and who has assisted me in countless
ways, I wish to express my heartiest appreciation and
gratitude.
E. B. R.
Connecticut Hall, Yale College.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter One. The Lyric defined. The Old English
Lyric .....
Chapter Two. The Middle English Lyric .
Chapter Three. The Tudor Lyric
Chapter Four. The Elizabethan Lyric
Chapter Five. The Jacobean and Caroline Lyric .
Chapter Six. The Lyric from the Restoration to the
death of Pope
Chapter Seven. The Lyric of the Transition
Chapter Eight. The Lyric of the Nineteenth Century
Part I . . . .
Chapter Nine. The Lyric of the Nineteenth Century
Part II ... .
Chapter Ten. The Lyric of To-day
Bibliography .......
Index ........
1
22
99
138
223
302
347
392
447
510
555
561
ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
CHAPTER ONE
The Lyric Defined
In Milton's Utopian scheme of education expounded in
his letter to Hartlib, it is provided that pupils be taught
"that sublime art which in Aristotle's poetics, in Horace,
and the Italian commentaries of Castelvetro, Tasso, Maz-
zoni, and others, teaches what the laws are of a true epic
poem, what of a dramatic, what of a lyric." It will be
remembered that these students, not yet arrived at man-
hood, were no common spirits ; in addition to Greek,
Latin, and Italian, they had mastered the Hebrew tongue
"whereto it would be no impossibility to add the Chaldee
and the Syrian dialect" ; yet even such disciplined minds
would find it impossible to learn from these critics and
commentators the "laws of a true lyric." At the very
beginning of our study, when we must establish at least
a working definition, it is natural to turn to the father
of literary criticism. We find that Aristotle does not con-
cern himself with this form of poetry, for with the excep-
tion of three slight references to the writing of dithyrambs
and nomes (hymns and chants sung to musical accompani-
ment in the worship of Bacchus and Apollo) he leaves
the whole subject out of consideration:
" Nor Aristotle, with all his lore.
Ne'er told of the properties of thy kind."'^
^Poetics, I, ii, xiii; II, vi. "Aristotle passes over the whole of lyric
poetry with the most scanty notice, partly, perhaps, because it was little
composed in his day, but still more because its marked personal bearing
restricted the universal element which he considered necessary to true
poetry." E. S. Bouchier, Aristotle's Poetics, Oxford, 1908, p. 1, note.
S. H. Butcher, Harvard Lectures on Oreek Subjects, Boston, 1904, p.
198, remarks that Aristotle "passed over with deliberate neglect (for
% ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
One thing at least we may gather from Aristotle and the
critics who followed him: poetry is to be considered under
the threefold classification of the epic, the drama, and the
song (whether it be the voice of a lone singer or of a
chorus) and song is designated by the term "lyric."
Modern criticism has accepted this classification, for, as
Arnold observed, the tact of the Greeks in matters of this
kind was infallible and their categories of epic, dramatic,
and lyric have a natural propriety. Considering these
three forms of poetry, we find that the nature of the epic
and of the drama is essentially unchanged since Aristotle's
day and it is a simple matter to distinguish them as types
in a few phrases. The lyric has greatly enlarged its
scope so that we can not define it concisely and at the same
time accurately. In the classification of literary types, hard
and fast lines rarely can be drawn, for the different genres
tend to approach and join each other. Not only is the
lyric spirit manifest in both epic and drama — ^in Milton's
"Hail, holy Light," in Juhet's "Wilt thou be gone.? it is
not yet near day :" — ^but something of the epic and of the
drama may enter into the lyric ; we have "narrative"
such it would seem to be) the great lyrical poetry of Greece — Simonides,
Pindar, Sappho, Alcasus, to none of whom does he make even faint
allusion Was it, perhaps, that lyrical poetry interested him only
as a rudimentary art — uttering itself in the form of improvised chants
and dithyrambic hymns — which marked a stage in the development of
the drama? .... May it not also be that in the personal outbursts of
lyrical song, in the self-abandonment, the rush of feeling of Sappho or
Alcaeus, he missed the characteristic Hellenic self-restraint?"
1 The Greek term for lyric poetry was filXoi or lieXucij iroi'ijiris. "Les
Grecs rfeervaient le nom de po6sie lyrique k la chanson d'une part, et de
I'autre k la grande po^sie monodique et chorale, c'est k dire, k des formes
de pofeie plus complMement et plus richement musicale. L'fil6gie et
riambe 6taient d'une structure trop simple pour admettre une m^lodie
vari6e." A. and M. Croiset, Histoire de la literature grecque, Paris,
1898, t. II, p. 43; see also "Melos" in Pauly's Beal-Encyclopddie der
Class. Alter.; E. Nageotte, Histoire de la poMe lyrique grecque, Paris,
1888.
THE LYRIC DEFINED 3
lyrics and what Browning has called "dramatic" lyrics.
Distinctions are still more confused because the metrical
differences that once separated these three kinds of poetry
— in Greek literature, for example — have largely dis-
appeared, and we frequently use the same verse form for both
narrative and lyric poetry. Philip Ayres, a mediocre poet
and translator, and one of the first to entitle his poems
lyrics, thought it necessary to defend his use of the iambic
pentameter. "I have herein followed the modem Italian,
Spanish, and French poets, who always call Lyrics all such
Sonnets, and other small poems, which are proper to be set
to music, without restraining themselves to any particular
length of verse. And our grand Master of Lyrics, even
Horace himself, has sometimes inserted the Heroic amongst
his."^ To-day the lyric poet may employ any metre, and
in the Princess Tennyson uses the same line for the narra-
tive and the song:
" Now while I sang, and maiden-like as far
As I could ape their treble, did I sing:
' Why lingereth she to clothe her heart with love.
Delaying as the tender ash delays
To clothe herself, when all the woods are green?' "
It is then no easy matter to arrive at an adequate descrip-
tion of the lyric; still we must attempt one, and for its first
clause we follow the ancient critics in the simple statement
that a lyric is a song. Before we add to this, it is impor-
tant to consider for a moment the fascinating subject of
song's antiquity.
As we become more civilized, we become more desirous of
discovering the beginnings of our civilization. The man of
science, the historian, and the poet have been attracted by
this subject, and aided by the researches of ethnology and
psychology, the philosopher and the student of hterature
i Lyric Poems, London, 1687.
4 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
have discussed vigorously the question of the earliest mani-
festation of poetry/ On such a theme there must be theory
and counter-theory, yet there is a growing disposition to
accept the statement that the instinct of rhythm, which is
at the basis of all poetry, is as closely bound up with man's
intelligence as is his perception of light and darkness.
Because our own sense of rhythm has become so highly
developed, we do not consider it a primitive instinct. Apart
from the conclusions of ethnology, in themselves a sufficient
proof, there are many reasons for regarding it as old as the
mind of man. All passions — love, anger, grief — of them-
selves seek rhythmic utterance, and whatever our conception
of primitive man, we admit that he was governed by the
elemental feelings. From another viewpoint, Biicher has'
clearly proved that rhythm is bound up with all toil and
play, which is merely another way of stating that a sense
of rhythm is as old as the human race.^
The poetry which was the natural product of this
rhythmic feeling was largely communal — a song or chant
coming from the dancing, toiling, fighting throng or clan.
With our intense individualism, the result of centuries of
development, we are prone to reconstruct the antique world
after the likeness of our own. Because with us poetry has
become the art of a chosen few, we think of the primitive
poet in terms of Gray's Bard; we picture him seated on
some lofty rock, singing to the awed listeners below:
" With haggard eyes the poet stood ;
(Loose his beard and hoary hair
Streamed, like a meteor, to the troubled air)
And with a master's hand and prophet's fire.
Struck the deep sorrows of his lyre,"
1 This whole matter has been adequately treated by Professor F. B.
Gummere in The Beginnings of Poetry, N. Y., 1901. The footnotes of
this volume furnish an excellent bibliography of the entire subject.
2 K. W. Biicher, Arbeit und Rhytkmus, Leipzig, 1896.
THE LYRIC DEFINED 5
but so far as the beginnings of poetry are concerned, modern
critics have allowed this singer
" Deep in the roaring tide to plunge to endless night."
The first poets were but members of the singing, dancing
throng, emerging for a moment to lead or improvise, then
sinking back into the clan.' Aristotle, remarks Professor
Gummere, is quite in agreement with the conclusions of
psychology and sociology when he derives tragedy and
comedy from the clan song. Thus the lyric, the chorus, is
the oldest of all poetic forms; as old as self-consciousness,
it hes at the very heart of the race and this consideration
lends to our study a deeper interest. Our delight in the
music of an orchestra or in the colors of stained glass is
not lessened when we reflect that primitive man knew noth-
ing of this, yet when we hear or read a song, expressing
simply some of the great emotions of life, there comes a new
significance as we catch in it the echo of a song old as
humanity.^ A man may wonder at the stars without a
thought of the innumerable years through which they have
shone, but if for one brief moment such an idea has never
entered his mind, he has never wholly seen them.
Returning now to our definition, we have stated that to
the Greeks a lyric was a song. We must carefully avoid
1 H. M. Posnett, Comparative Literature, London, 1886, chap, ii, Early
Choral Song. Cf. Gummere, op. cit., p. 92. "As the savage laureate
slips from the singing, dancing crowd, which turns audience for the
nonce, and gives his short improvisation, only to yield to the refrain of
the chorus, so the actual habit of individual composition and performance
has sprung from the choral composition and performance." See also
Posnett, pp. 152-4 for a destructive criticism of Hugo's theory of the
origin of the lyric set forth in the preface to Cromwell.
2 "Thus, looking on choral songs of war or peace as the primary
sources from which literature has everywhere developed, we may accept
the vulgar canon that aU literature begins in song; but it is song widely
differing in nature and in impersonal authorship from any to which
modem art is accustomed." Posnett, p. 127.
6 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
giving to that word its modem, restricted meaning, for
with us a song generally implies a short poem, limited to
a small number of simple metres and depending for its
efFectiveness largely, sometimes entirely, upon the value of
its musical accompaniment. With the Greeks, song was
an all-embracing term ; it included the crooning of the nurse
to the child, the half sung chant of the mower or sailor
(forms of the lyric which did not enter into literature), the
formal ode sung by the poet, and the great chorals, highly
wrought in rhythm and diction, sung by the dancing chorus.
The elegy was not considered a lyric, though modern his-
torians of Greek literature class it as such. It is out of our
province to characterize further the Greek lyric; its
extraordinary richness both of form and content must
always be borne in mind. No two odes of Pindar are pre-
cisely alike in their construction; in general, the Greek
lyric poets disdained to repeat the measures of their
contemporaries and even the ones they themselves had
employed.^ We must therefore modify materially our con-
ception of a song and in the study of the English lyric
we include elegies, epithalamia, and odes, forms which we
rarely associate with music.
The modern song differs from the Greek lyric in its
simpler construction and in its greater dependence upon
music. When our music is married to immortal verse, it
becomes the better half. It is true that the most gifted
composers seek to reflect and interpret the mood of a poem,
yet we are prone to regard the musician's rather than the
writer's inspiration as the more important element in a song.
Too often the musician is unwilling to subordinate himself,
and in many a song the words are to be considered merely
as a starting point and we may neglect them entirely. In
all Greek lyrics, even in the choral odes, music was but the
1 A. Croiset, La Poisie de Pindare et les lois du lyrisme grec, Paris,
1880, p. 59.
THE LYRIC DEFINED 7
handmaid of verse, for it was the poet himself who composed
the accompaniment. Euripides was censured because
lophon, son of Sophocles, had assisted him in the musical
setting for some of his dramas.*
The very nature of Greek music made verse all important.
The flute and the cithera, the poet's instrument, furnished
a monotonous, colorless background for the words, and in
the song, it was the poet rather than the composer who
charmed.^ The odes of Pindar, the lyrics of Sappho and
Alcasus produced their effect upon Roman literature with-
out their musical accompaniment, and we may appreciate
the Greek lyric in utter ignorance of Greek music precisely
as we enjoy reading the Irish Melodies, despite Moore's
protest that they are of small value without their musical
setting.
" When, round the bowl of vanished years
We talkj with joyous seeming, —
With smiles that might as well be tears,
So faintj so sad their beaming;
While memory brings us back again
Each early tie that twined us," —
Who remembers that these lines were set to the Hvely air of
"The Girl I Left behind Me".?
We commenced our definition with the statement that the
lyric is a song; to this we now add, "or any poem written
in a form or style considered lyrical by the Greeks." Thus
Gray's Progress of Poesy is a lyric, not because of its song
quality, but because it imitates a Greek lyric form.
We have dwelt thus far with the Greek conception of a
lyric because we have inherited it; but modem feeling seeks
in verse new methods of expression, and we must accord-
1 Butcher, Aristotle's Theory of Poetry and Fine Arts, London, 1902,
p. 140.
2 Crolset, Pindare, pp. 73 ff.
8 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
ingly enlarge our definition. Even in Greece, music, once the
inseparable companion of the lyric, became divorced from
it. The musician constantly strove for freer utterance;
only when music existed for its own sake and not as the set-
ting for a poem could it develop as an art. Pratinas, the
rival of Aeschylus in the satiric drama, found it necessary
to chide the flutes because they were no longer content to be
subservient to the verse: "The flute must follow; it is but a
servant." On the other hand, the poet found that music
was not necessary for the lyric since the melody of his words
could surpass the sound of the flute or cithera. Thus the
formal musical element was no longer the distinguishing
mark of the lyric, though it never forgot nor can forget its
origin in song. The undergraduate may sing Integer vitce
scelerisque purus; it is doubtful whether Horace did.
Though the lyric became divorced from music, its inner
nature remained unchanged. It was not in the epic or in
the drama but in the lyric that the Greek or Latin poet
sang of his own thoughts and emotions, for the lyric
was personal, the other forms impersonal. The epic and
dramatic writers disappeared behind their heroes, but even
in the greater lyrics, the triumphal odes, it is Pindar himself
who addresses the victor, and the chorus is but his echo.^ In
an even more marked degree, subjectivity is a determining
characteristic, though not the only one, of the modern lyric.
"Lyric poetry is the expression by the poet of his own feel-
ings," is Ruskin's brief statement, while the historian of
Greek literature, after remarking that the term lyric has
changed its meaning since classic times, continues : "Pure
emotion, unfettered imagination, thought freed from the
care of action or of drawing conclusions, this is the real
substance of the lyric."^ Brunetiere, who emphasizes the sub-
jective element, defines lyric poetry as the expression of the
1 Croiset, Pindare, pp. 99-102.
2 Croiset, Histoire de la littirnture grecque, t. II, p. 201.
THE LYRIC DEFINED 9
poet's personal feelings in rhythms corresponding to his
emotions.^ So important does he consider the revelation of
the writer's personality, that he would include Rabelais in
a study of French lyrical poetry because he was one of the
first writers to break with the impersonal manner of the
Middle Ages. .
A little reflection will show that the subjective element
alone does not make a poem a lyric, and that we must draw
a clear distinction between lyrical feeling and lyrical form.
Samson Agonistes is profoundly subjective; few of Words-
worth's poems reveal his personality more plainly than
does Tintern Abbey, yet these are not lyrics. Palgrave
made a necessary distinction when he pointed out that to
call a poem lyrical implies essentially that it turn on some
single thought, feeling, or situation ; in other words, the
modern lyric must be a short, musical expression of sub-
jective feeling. The sonnet — frequently set to music in
Italy of the Renaissance and Elizabethan England — gen-
erally fulfills these conditions ; even when a sonnet is descrip-
tive or impersonal it often may be considered a lyric because
of its music.
This musical element of the modern lyric is to be found in
the melody of rhyme. Certainly the unrhymed lyric,
CoUins's Ode to Evening is a good instance, may possess a
rare and subtle music, yet speaking broadly, rhyme renders
emphatic the music of verse. Turning to the other part of
our statement, that the lyric is a short expression of subjec-
tive feeling, it will be found that poems of considerable length
are rarely lyrical throughout; they may have lyrical mo-
ments, but they tend to become didactic, descriptive, or nar-
rative. As a critic has well said, "The lyric is not only
marked by the coloring of human passion, but by beauty and
rapidity of movement," and this arises from its very nature.
1 F. Brunetifere, L'£volution de la po^sie lyrique en France au dix-
neuvUme siicle, Paris, 1894, t. I, p. 154.
10 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
Let us take the testimony of a poet whose genius was lyrical.
In an interesting lecture entitled The Poetic Theory, Poe
contends that there is no such thing as a long poem. He uses
his critical terms loosely and evidently means by poetry,
lyric verse; his remarks, accordingly, are most pertinent.
A poem, he states, deserves its title only insomuch as it
excites by elevating the soul; but through psychical neces-
sity, that degree of excitement which is necessary to con-
stitute a true poem cannot be sustained throughout in a
composition of any length. This statement is too dogmatic,
yet underlying it is a sound principle.
We may now review our completed definition. All songs ;
all poems following classic lyric forms ; all short poems
expressing the writer's moods and feelings in a rhythm that
suggests music, are to be considered lyrics. This threefold
statement is not free from ambiguity and does not remove
all the difficulties that arise in determining whether or not
a given poem is to be considered a lyric. For centuries the
ballads were sung, yet as a class they are riojLspngs but
narrative poems, little epics.
" The king sits in Dumferling toune.
Drinking the blude-red wine,
■ O whar will I get guid sailor.
To sail this schip of mine?' "
is not a lyric ; on the other hand, the more modem ballad of
Fair Helen is of the very essence of lyric verse:
" I wish I were where Helen lies;
Night and day on me she cries ;
O that I were where Helen lies
On fair Kirconnell lea !"
Despite such an exception, we must distinguish with Ritson
between "songs of sentiment, expression or even descrip-
THE LYRIC DEFINED 11
tion" which are lyrics, and "mere narrative compositions,
which we now denominate ballads."^ Again, coming to the
third part of our definition, it is often a question whether
the subjective element in a poem predominates sufficiently
over the descriptive or didactic element to clearly establish
it a lyric. Palgrave includes in his Golden Treasury of
Songs and Lyrics Milton's Penseroso and L'Allegro, yet does
not the descriptive element in them outweigh the purely
lyrical, despite the fact that they have a song quality —
Handel has given to them a characteristic setting — and that
II Penseroso in a measure is a picture of Milton himself?
There wiU always be poems on the border fine of the lyric,
yet in most cases our definition wiU determine what poems
may properly come within our field of study.
We cannot dwell longer on critical distinctions, important
as they may be, for our lyric poetry awaits us. There is,
however, an objection sometimes raised against lyric verse
which it is well to meet at the very beginning of our study.
The lyric poet, we are told, enjoys not an absolute but a
relative vision, for he is too fascinated by his own thoughts
and feelings to have a deep sympathy with the life about
him. Like a bird whose eyes have been put out, he sings
because he is blind. The writers of lyrics are a lesser clan,
living down the slopes of Parnassus ; the epic and dramatic
poets are the great masters of verse. In answer to this we
may urge that the lyric stiU has something of the epic
(witness the Miltonic sweep of Meredith's sonnet, Lucifer in
Starlight) and of the drama, for it may possess a certain
Odysseyan greatness in its portrayal of the wanderings of
a soul, and the intensity of a Greek tragedy in its picture
of a man struggling alone against his fate. But avoiding
comparisons with other forms of verse, we may remind the
1 J. Ritson, A Select Collection of English Songs, 2d edition, London,
1813. A Historical Essay on the Origin and Progress of National Song,
p. i, note.
m ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
reader that the greatest study in life, and in literature,
which is but a manifestation of life, is the study of person-
ality. Even when we talk of race problems and of national
movements, our eyes are unconsciously fixed on the man, the
leader. The lyric poet, whether he be prince or peasant,
reveals himself to us ; in Browning's phrase, he is "unashamed
of soul," and standing closer to us than any other writer,
we know him at once. His expression of emotion is all the
more poignant because he makes us his confidants. In the
epic there are pages of description or narration before the
crisis is reached ; in the drama the characters must be intro-
duced and delineated, but in the lyric we find ourselves
instantly at the heart of the whole matter, and a single
phrase can reveal the poet's world as a sudden flash of
lightning illumines the landscape.
There is in the finest lyrics that highest quality of art — a
charm that defies analysis. We may put our finger on the
great scene that makes a tragedy immortal, but many a
lyric lives not for what it says but for what it suggests.
There are certain general rules which the epic and the drama
observe ; the lyric is above any formula that may be devised.
Many a dramatist has explained in detail how he wro'te his
play, from the selection of the theme to the last act ; many
a lyric poet has testified that he cannot tell how or why he
wrote a certain song — it simply "came to him." The lyric
spirit is like Blake's spirit of love:
" the gentle wind doth move
Silently, invisibly."
To sing with the infinite harmonies of rhythm and the melo-
dies of rhyme ; to move by dim suggestion or to appeal with
overpowering passion directly to the feelings ; to present
thoughts suffused with emotion or ideas that concern the
reason chiefly; to summon before the reader's mind by the
THE OLD ENGLISH LYRIC IS
"magic incantation of a verse" exquisite colors and forms;
to touch the memory and stir the imagination — this is but
a faint description of the art of the lyric poet.
As we began this discussion of the lyric by pointing out
that it is the oldest of poetic forms, we may end it with the
assertion that it is the most enduring. The verse epic, sup-
planted by the novel, no longer exists ; the poetic drama, at
least in English-speaking countries, has but little vitality,
for it is written under the shadow of the Elizabethans and
gives us not life but the faint echo of a distant age. The
lyric springs from life itself and so long as man thinks and
feels, it can never disappear.
II
The Old English Lyric
We have stated that the lyric is the oldest of all poetic
forms and accordingly we must look for it in the very begin-
nings of our literature. The Roman historian, noting the
traits of our Germanic forefathers, did not fail to mention
their love of song. Whether or not Tacitus idealized the Ger-
mans to shame his own countrymen, there is no reason
to suspect that he departed from strict accuracy when he
speaks of their songs in praise of their divinities, or of what
he calls "the well known songs" sung to inflame the warriors'
courage as they rush into battle.^ If their religious songs
were chiefly narrative poems relating the adventures and
exploits of their gods, certainly we may assume that these
battle hymns were more than a recital of old heroic deeds,
and that they were essentially lyrical, for the chant of a
tribe may be as true a lyric as the measured strophes of a
Greek chorus. There were no scribes to take down these
1 Germania, ii-iii.
li ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
poems; we have only the mention of Tacitus to recall the
Germanic lays of Arminius/ only a brief reference in the
sixth century history of the Goths by Jordanes to remind us
of the funeral songs composed for the death of Attila. Such
passages, tantalizing in the extreme, are yet sufficient proof
that our race, before conquering Britain, had a well-
developed lyric tradition. If Tacitus writes of the battle
choruses, the Northern sagas show us that bards and min-
strels were familiar figures, and that kings themselves, in
their last moments, sang defiance to their enemies. In the
Old Lay of Atli (Attila), when Gunnar, king of the Goths,
is taken prisoner and cast alive into a pit filled with deadly
serpents, he meets his end like a hero. "But Gunnar, alone
there, in his wrath smote the harp with his hands ; the strings
rang out."^
It is not surprising that our oldest English poem — so
scholars have entitled it — should deal with a scop or singer.
The poem of Widsith, or the Far-Wanderer, purports to be
an account by a much travelled bard of the many peoples he
has visited and of the rewards he has received from their
chieftains and kings. A single glance at his bare catalogue
of princes and nations is sufficient to show that the wander-
ings of this Germanic Odysseus belong to the realms of
fiction ; originally the poem may have recounted the travels
of a famous singer, but in its present form, with its numerous
interpolations, it presents to us but a purely mythical per-
sonage. Critics believe that certain parts of Widsith were
written before the Angles and Saxons had left their old home,
and this narrative poem offers accordingly one more proof
that our love of song is an ancient heritage. Widsith tells
us that he was received by the most famous kings ; they
dehghted in him and gave him presents — rings of gold —
1 Annales, II, 88.
2 F. B. Gummere, Germanic Origins, N. Y., 1893, pp. 331-232.
THE OLD ENGLISH LYRIC IS
when he "with clear voice raised the song, loud to the
harp.'"
The oldest English lyric, and the only poem in Old English
written in strophic form with a refrain, is Dear's Lament.
Like Widsith, Deor is a scop, but he has had nothing of Wid-
sith's good fortune, for he has been superseded in his lord's
favor by a rival singer — a situation which finds a parallel
in Shakespeare's sonnets. Deor laments his sad fate and to
comfort himself he recalls the woes that others have suffered
and overcome. The song has but forty-two lines ; the con-
cluding strophe, in the Old English, is as follows :
JJaet ic bi me sylfum secgan wille,
paet ic hwile waes Heodeninga scop,
dryhtne dyre : me waes Deor noma.
Ahte ic fela wlntra folgaS tilne,
holdne hlaford, o]> Jjset Heorrenda nu,
leoScraeftig monn londryht gepah,
paet me eorla hleo aer gesealde.
fses ofereode, pisses swa maeg!"
In Professor Gummere's translation this strophe runs:
" To say of myself the story now,
I was singer erewhile to sons-of-Heoden,
dear to my master, Deor was my name.
Long were the winters my lord was kind;
I was happy with clansmen; till Heorrenda now
by grace of his lays has gained the land
which the haven-of-heroes erewhile gave me.
That he surmounted: so this may I!"^
1 For the text of Widsith and the old English lyrics hereafter men-
tioned, see R. P. Wiilcker-C. W. M. Grein, Bibliothek der angel-
sdchsischen Poesie, Kassel, 1883, Bd. I. For translations, see Cook and
Tinker, Select Translations from Old English Poetry, Boston, 1902. See
also the discussion of Widsith in F. B. Gummere's The Oldest English
Epic, N. Y., 1909, p. 188 ff.
2 Wulcker-Grein, Bd. I, p. 280.
3 See Professor Gummere's interesting comments on this poem, The
Oldest English Epic, pp. 1T8 ff.
16 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
and in Professor Lewis's free adaptation :
" 1, Deor of the Heodenings, was dear to my good lord^
And did long minstrel service, nor missed my due reward ;
Till now this mightier minstrel thrusts my lord and me apart,
And wins my lands and living with the wiles of his high art.
He has his day ; he overcame ; but peace ! break not, my heart !"^
It is significant that our first lyric should be the song of a
scop; it is equally significant that this lyric is a lament. The
tragedy of life was ever present in the thoughts of our fore-
fathers. They had been reared amid the forests and marshes
that were so repellent to the mind of Tacitus : "Quis ....
Germaniam peteret, informem terris, asperam caslo, tristem
cultu aspectuque, nisi si patria sit.'"'^ The land that bred
them was cold and gloomy, and in their verse we hear the
rush of the storm. Desperate fighters, they saw ever the
struggle of life. For such men poetry must have not charm
but strength, not j oy but melancholy ; the few poems that
approach the lyric form are all elegiac. The Seafarer, the
finest of the shorter Old English poems, tells of weary hours
and hard days
" Mid the terrible rolling of waves, habitations of sorrow.
Benumbed by the cold, oft the comfortless night-watch hath
held me
At the prow of my craft as it tossed about under the cliffs."
Yet the singer is impelled by the wanderlust,
" he has always a longing, a sea-faring passion
For what the Lord God shall bestow, be it honor or death.
No heart for the harp has he, nor for acceptance of treasure,
No pleasure has he in a wife, no delight in the world.
Nor in aught save the roll of the billows; but always a longing,
A yearning uneasiness, hastens him on to the sea."^
1 Cook and Tinker, p. 60.
2 Germania, II.
3 Cook and Tinker, pp. 45-46.
THE OLD ENGLISH LYRIC 17
In the Wanderer, the singer, far from his home and kins-
men, dreams of happier days in the banqueting hall of his
lord. He awakens, and the contrast between his old life and
his present outcast state is most poignantly drawn:
" But the friendless man awakeSj and he sees the yellow waves.
And the sea-birds dip to the sea, and broaden their wings to the
gale.
And he sees the dreary rime, and the snow commingled with
had.
O, then, are the wounds of his heart the sorer much for this.
The grief for the loved and lost made new by the dream of old
bliss."
The poem ends in a lament for the world; a glory has
departed from the earth ; the horse and rider have been over-
thrown ; the strength of princes has vanished ; and Wyrd, or
Fate, has brought to destruction the towers and banquet
halls.i
In the Banished Wife's Complaint we have the lyrical
monologue of a forsaken woman whose husband has crossed
the sea, leaving her to be imprisoned in a cave. In her
wretchedness she laments her lot, for to be banished from the
family or clan was the hardest of all fates. Desdemona
cries, "0, banish me, my lord, but kill me not," but to the
Anglo-Saxon, death was preferable to exile.^
Of these four poems, Deor is the one pure lyric; the
descriptive, narrative, and morahzing passages in the other
three bring them on the border line of lyric verse. This is
indeed but a small group to represent our earliest songs;
undoubtedly they are typical of a large body of lyric poems
that have completely disappeared, for Old English poetry is
full of allusions to songs and singers. In Beowulf, the war-
riors in the banqueting hall delight in the songs of the scop
1 P. S3.
2 P. 64. Cf. Oermanic Origins, pp. 169 ff.
18 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
and down to the Norman conquest harp and song moved
and charmed our ancestors. When the Angles and Saxons
turned to Christianity, when from "wolves and sea-dogs," as
Gildas called them, they became the leaders in education,
attracting students from all Europe to Northumbria, they
still retained, a legacy from the past, the lyric mood. In
the time of Casdmon (d. 680) it was stiU the custom for the
guests at a feast to sing in turn. Because he could not sing,
Csedmon felt so disgraced that "he would, as soon as he saw
the harp coming anywhere near him, jump up from the table
in the midst of the banqueting, leave the place, and make the
best of his way home."'^ The fragment of Csedmon's hymn
which Bede preserves is the oldest lyric composed in Eng-
land that can be approximately dated.^ Warriors, we are
told by Cynewulf, still listened to minstrels who could play
loudly upon the harp.' Asser informs us that Alfred (d.
901) "was an attentive listener to Saxon poems which he
often heard recited and being apt at learning, kept them
in his memory." As a boy, he learned by heart a whole book
of Saxon verse which his mother had showed to him, and when
king, he saw to it that his sons carefully learned Saxon books,
"especially Saxon poems."* Surely some of these were lyrics.
We could well have spared many pages of Alfred's transla-
tions for a few of these poems which so stirred him. To come
within a century of the Conquest, Dunstan (d. 988) was not
only an accomplished musician, a skillful player on the harp,
but in his youth his enemies asserted that he learned with the
greatest zeal "Gentilitatis vanissima carmina" — the vainest
songs of the heathen.^ King Cnut was a poet, and one of
1 Bede relates this. See Cook and Tinker, p. 180.
2 P. 76.
3 A. S. Cook, The Christ of Cynewulf, Boston, 1900, 11. 666-670.
4 A. S. Cook, Asser' s Life of King Alfred, Boston, 1906, chap. 22-23,
75-76.
5 William Stubbs, Memorials of St. Dunstan, London, 1874, p. 11.
THE OLD ENGLISH LYRIC 19
his songs was long sung by the people. Only the first stanza
remains :
" Marie sungen the muneches binnen Ely, (monks)
Tha Cnut ching raw thar by.
" Roweth, cnihtes, noar the land,
And here we thes muneches sang."^
These all too brief indications of the existence of the Old
English lyric give us no hints of its literary value; we can
build no theories on these stray lines. Our earliest lyrics
disappeared, not because they were valueless but because
the clergy, who were the scribes, considered the "vain songs
of the heathen" unworthy of remembrance; better a line of
a sermon or a word of scripture than pages of lyrics of
fight and feasting. Bede was called "learned in our songs"
yet they found no place in his writings. The religious poetry
of this age was narrative and didactic rather than lyrical;
the first part of Cynewulf's Christ is based upon a series of
antiphons and is accordingly lyrical in its feeling, yet the
poem is not lyrical in its form and lies outside our province,
though near it.^ We have no Old English hymns, yet it is
probable that with the Latin songs of the church there
existed for the common people some religious or festal songs
in the vernacular. At least we know that Bede in his last
hours composed a death song in the English tongue:
" Before the dread j ourney which needs must be taken
No man is more mindful than meet is and right
To ponder, are hence ha departs, what his spirit
Shall, after the death-day, receive as its portion
Of good or of evil, by mandate of doom."'
1 Cf. The Beginnings of Poetry, p. 275.
2 Cook, The Christ of Cynewulf, p. xcl.
3 Cook and Tinker, p. 78.
£0 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
The dirge, the lament at the grave or funeral pyre is one
of the oldest of lyric forms. We find such songs mentioned
in Beowulf, and ^Ifric instructs priests to forbid at funerals
"the heathen songs of the laity."^ We have not one licsang,
but their spirit lives on in the Lyke-Wake Dirge, lines filled
with the shudder and mystery of death :
" This ae nighte, this ae nighte,
—Every nighte and alle,
Fire and sleet and candle-lighte, (Fire and salt)
And Christe receive thy saule.
" When thou from hence away art past,
—Every nighte and alle.
To Whinny-muir thou com'st at last^ (To the moor of
furze or gorse)
And Christe receive thy saule.
" If ever thou gavest hosen and shoon,
—Every nighte and alle.
Sit thee down and put them on ;
And Christe receive thy saule.
"If hosen and shoon thou ne'er gav'st nane,
—Every nighte and alle,
The whinnes sail prick thee to the bare bane ;
And Christe receive thy saule."^
We have said that with few exceptions the scribes dis-
dained to record our secular poetry ; we owe to one of them
the Battle of Brunanburh, found in the Anglo-Saxon Chron-
icle. The battle was fought in 937 and the poem is accord-
ingly one of the last of the Old English lyrics. Unlike the
poem on the battle of Maldon, it contains little direct narra-
tion; it is rather a cry of victory, the exultant chant of a
iCf. Oermanic Origins, pp. 348 ff; The Beginnings of Poetry, pp.
316 ff.
2 See Oxford Book of English Verse, p. 443.
THE OLD ENGLISH LYRIC 21
conquering army, and Tennyson in his paraphrase has
caught the spirit of the forgotten poet who made the lines:
" We the West-SaxonSj
Long as the daylight
Lasted, in companies
Troubled the track of the host that we hated ;
Grimly with swords that were sharp from the grindstone,
Fiercely we hack'd at the flyers before us.
Many a carcase they left to be carrion.
Many a livid one, many a sallow-skin —
Left for the white-tail'd eagle to tear it, and
Left for the horny-nibb'd raven to rend it, and
Gave to the garbaging war-hawk to gorge it, and
That gray beast, the wolf of the weald."
This has the true ring; that Germanic ardor for battle that
so impressed Tacitus burns undiminished.
We leave the Old English Period, not empty-handed, but
with scanty gleanings. We have found enough to make us
understand how old are certain dominant characteristics of
modem song. The love of adventure and combat ; the
delight in nature ; the sense of the mystery of the world and
of the tragic aspects of life, have come down to us from our
forefathers. Unconsciously we sing the same strains that
fell from their lips. Even their manner of singing is still
with us ; for them alliteration gave to verse the same beauty
we find in rhyme, and accordingly we still ornament our
lyrics in their fashion. The Norman Conquest revolutionized
the technique and the content of English song, but in all the
changes we still hear echoes of the earlier lyric, notes that
seem to come from some forgotten scop.
CHAPTER TWO
The Middle English Lyeic
I
Wace tells us that at the battle of Hastings, Taillefer
advanced from the Norman ranks against the Saxon lines
singing of Roland and the peers:
" Taillefer^ qui mult bien chantout,
Sor un cheual qui tost alout,
Deuant le due alout chantant
De Karlemaigne e de Reliant
E d'Oliuer e des uassals^
Qui morurent en Renceuals."
" Taillefer, who sang exceedingly well.
Upon a swift horse.
Before the Duke went singing
Of Charlemagne and of Roland
And of Oliver and of the vassals
Who died at Roncevaux."^
If we accept this picture, the minstrel knight foretold
unconsciously the conquest of French song, for with the
advent of the Normans there arose in England a new lyric.
To understand it, we must first examine the French lyric
which transformed Saxon verse by giving it new forms of
expression, new thoughts and emotions ; for French song,
instead of stifling the native lyric impulse, deepened and
perfected it.
According to the theory of Gaston Paris, the French lyric
had its origins in Poitou and Limousin at the yearly dances
iMaistre Wace's Roman de Bou, 11. 8035-8040, ed. by H. Andresen,
Heilbi-onn, 1877-9.
THE MIDDLE ENGLISH LYRIC n
held at Easter, in the May season.' At these festivals, sur-
vivals of the old pagan Floralia, women were the chief cele-
brants ; they led the dances and the songs whose themes were
love, youth, and the joy of life when spring, with its birds
and flowers, puts winter to flight. These songs, with their
strong pagan element, were a scandal to the early church,
and the measures it took to suppress them prove that they
were sung far and wide. At the council of Chalons, held in
the seventh century, the priests were instructed to prohibit
the women from singing profane songs as they gathered at
the church porches, and a decree of the following century
forbade the priests to copy or spread love songs.^ These
lyrics, whose popularity the church could not destroy, were
sung and probably improAdsed in the open air, in the
meadows. They were called caroles, a word that signifies
a dance to the accompaniment of song. The participants
(in the earliest time, women; later, both men and women)
holding each other's hands, danced en rond while the leader
sang a verse or couplet to which the dancers added a refrain.
In the English poem of Arthour and Merlin, written about
1300, there are interpolated some charming spring songs,
one of which gives us the whole picture :
" Miri time it is in May,
Than wexeth along the day, (Then)
Floures schewen her borioun, (show their buds)
Miri it is in feld & toun,
Foules miri in wode gredeth, (in the wood call)
Damisels carols ledeth."'
The parts of these caroles most easily remembered were
the refrains; they were recalled and quoted long after the
^Journal des Savants, November, December, 1891; March, July,
1893.
2 Cf. C. Voretzsch, EinfiChrung in das Studium der altfranzosischen
Literatur, Halle, 1905, pp. 96-7.
3 Arthour and Merlin, ed. E. Kolbing, Leipzig, 1890, 11. 1709 ff.
H ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
songs to which they belonged had faded from the memory.
Several are cited in the romances; a characteristic one is
the following, sung at Mainz on May day by two young girls
who lead back the folk from the woods where they have been
gathering flowers and branches:
" Tout la gieus sor rive mar,
Compaignon, or dou chanter.
Dames i ont bauz levez:
Mout en ai le cuer gai.
Compaignon, or dou chanter
En I'onor de mat."
" All below there on the bank of the stream^
Friends, now some singing.
The women have begun the dances :
I have a heart full of joy for this.
Friends, now some singing.
In honor of May."^
Another typical refrain is preserved in La Cour de
Paradis, where the Virgin in heaven leads a dance, singing
an old May song:
" Let all those who are in love
Come dance, but not the others."^
These May festivals, with their songs, were originally
celebrated by the common folk; peasants were the dancers
and singers, but as an aristocracy arose, it too desired to
celebrate these rites, and the songs were thus known by high
and low. From these caroles, then, asserts Paris, there
developed in the South the Proven9al lyric, the poetry of the
iJDe Roman de la Rose ou de Ouillaume de Dole, ed. G. Servois,
8ocUt4 des anciens textes frangais, Paris, 1893, p. 125. Cf. the article
by Paris in the same volume, p. xcix.
2 E. Wechssler, Das Kulturproblem des Minnesangs, Halle, 1909, p.
446.
THE MIDDLE ENGLISH LYRIC 25
troubadours, from which in turn sprang in the North the
lyrics of the trouveres. To all this verse is given the general
designation of chanson courtoise. In the North, again,
transformed to aube, pastourelle, debat, ballade, these
caroles lived on in what we shall call la poesie populaire, not
as the name seems to imply, folk song, but poetry that is far
closer to the folk than the chanson courtoise} It is a fair
question whether Paris has proved his thesis. Though we
admit that the poesie populaire is derived from these caroles,
it is difficult to find in them the origin of the chanson cour-
toise. In its technique, in its conception of love this is
utterly removed from all folk poesy; its only resemblance
to these dance songs is to be found in nature passages. It
is quite possible that the chanson courtoise is more closely
alhed to the Latin poetry, secular and religious, of the
Middle Ages, but we cannot dwell longer on this question
of origins, for we must consider the subject-matter of the
chanson courtoise and la poesie popidaire, since both genres
influenced the English lyric.^
So much has been published on the fascinating subject of
troubadour and trouvere poetry that we shall attempt merely
to summarize in the briefest fashion its most striking charac-
teristics. Though written for the aristocracy, for the
"amans fins et vrais," though composed by kings and princes,
it approached the caroles (hence it descended from them,
argues Paris) in countless allusions to the coming of spring,
the budding of flower and leaf, the singing of the birds.
Whatever the theme, joy or sorrow, praise or satire, love
or religion, the poet should begin:
1 Cf. L. CHdat, La Poisie lyrique et satirique en France au moyen
dge, Paris, 1893, pp. 27 ff.
2 See the article by J. Bddier, Bevue de Deux Mondes, 1 Mai, 1896;
"Voretzsch, op. cit., pp. 188-196; F. M. Warren, in a paper read before
the Yale Romance Club, October, 1910, argues forcibly for the Latin
origin of the chanson courtoise.
m ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" Li nouveauz tans et mais et violete
et roussignols me semont de chanter."
" The spring, and May, and the violet
And the nightingale impel me to sing."^
Such lines soon became purely conventional and bore Kttle
or no relation to the poem that followed. After the cus-
tomary opening stanza on the flowers in the green grass
and the red and white blossoms upon the bushes, the most
famous sirvente of Bertrand de Born changes abruptly to
a song of war, filled with an almost savage ardor. As the
troubadours sang more often of the sorrows than of the joys
of love, the happiness of the spring time is merely a foil for
their grief. Bernart de Ventadorn has a graceful poem in
which his feelings are atune with the May:
" Quant I'erba fresqu' el fuelha par
e la flors botona el verian,
e-1 rossinhols antet e clar
leva sa votz e mou son chan,
icy ai de luy e ioy ai de la flor
e ioy de me e de midons maior ;
daus totas partz suy de ioy claus e sens,
mas sel es ioys que totz autres ioys vens."^
" When the fresh grass and leaf appears,
And the flower buds on the branch.
And the nightingale loud and clear
Raises his voice and sings,
I have joy in him and joy in the flower,
Joy in myself, but more in my lady;
On all sides I am surrounded with joy,
But she is joy above all others."
1 K. Bartsch, Chrestomathie de I'ancien frangais, Leipzig, 1884, col.
239.
2C. Appel, Provenzalische Chrestomathie, Leipzig, 1902, p. 68.
THE MIDDLE ENGLISH LYRIC B7
Yet even Bernart must go in the spring time "half dead,
weeping while others laugh," and the Chatelain de Couci
sings :
" Quant li estez et la dolce saisons
Fait fuelle et flor et les prez renverdir,
Et li dolz chans des menus oisillons
Fait les pluisors de joie sovenir,
Las ! chascuns chantej et je plor et sospir."^
" When the summer and the sweet season
Make leaf and flower and the meadows grow green again
And the sweet song of the little birds
Makes most persons remember their happiness,
Alas ! every one sings, and I weep and sigh."
We have stated that apart from these nature pictures, the
troubadour lyric has practically nothing that is of the folk.
Since the unmarried girl had no share in the social life of the
times, these songs were written for the wives of the Provenfal
nobles, the chatelaines
" whose bright eyes
Reign influence and award the prize."
The love they inspired became a cult and almost a religion.
It was not the frank love of a man for a maid, but a strange
fascination caused by a single glance from the lady ; there
is a touch of mysticism in I'enamorament, when love is awak-
ened by a subtle power, flowing like some mysterious fluid
from the lady's eyes to the poet's heart :
" d'un dolz regart, por voir.
Fist par mes eus dedenz mon cuer cheoir
La grant amor, qui si me fraint et brise."
1 J. Brakelmann, Les plus anciens chans onniers franqais, Paris, 1891,
p. 135; cf. p. 101.
28 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" by a sweet look, truly
She made through my eyes into my heart fall
The great love that breaks and crushes me."^
So, in Chaucer's Knightes Tale, the moment Palamon and
Arcite see from their prison Emily walking in the garden,
they become her devoted slaves. The poet is always the
vassal of his lady, and implicit obedience to her as a liege
lord is his first duty.
" A toz les jors de ma vie
La servirai,
Et serai en sa baillie
Tant com vivrai,
Ne ja de sa seignorie
Ne partirai;"
" All the days of my life
I shall serve her.
And I shall be in her power
So long as I shall live.
Nor ever from her rule
Shall I depart."
His life is in her hands :
" Bele dame, en vos mis ai
Cuer et cors et vie,
Ne ja ne m'en partirai
Nul jor de ma vie."
" Fair lady, in your keeping I have placed
Heart and body and life.
And I shall never depart.
Any day of my life."^
1 P. 31. Cf. J. Anglade, Lea Troubadours, Paris, 1908, p. 84.
2 Brakelmann, pp. 53, 49.
THE MIDDLE ENGLISH LYRIC 29
sings Chrestien de Troies, and no suffering which she may
cause him, not even her extreme cruelty, may release him
from his allegiance to her and to Love.
The poet's service is a long one, and he tells us that his
lady's cruelty often brings him nigh to death, yet if he prove
secret, devoted, unswerving, his "painful patience in delays"
may be rewarded at last — ^by a kiss. This is his great hope,
for it seals him her lover. Even after this he is still the
vassal, the subject of love, singing for one whose very name
he must not mention but must address as Belle- Vue, or Plus-
que-Reine, or Beau-Miroir, to give these euphuistic titles
their modem form.
As this love was almost a religion, it was inevitable that
the poets turned from the lady of the castle to the Lady of
Heaven, and they sang to her as they would to their Beau-
Miroir or their Belle-Joie, in the same metres, in the same
phrases, so that at times it is difficult to distinguish their
love poetry from their hymns to the Virgin. She was the
"fraiche dame gentis," the "douce damoiselle," "la Vierge
eourtoise et charmante," "la gracieuse dame qui est belle et
blonde," and she inspired a love that expressed itself in the
conventional language of the chansons d'amour. In a word
the poet was not the worshipper of the Virgin but her amant}
In all their poetry the troubadours sought perfection of
form. Their art was never concealed; they boasted of it,
priding themselves that they knew how to "batir" or "forger
une chanson." Thus technique became all important and
the poets were more desirous of inventing new rhymes than
of showing originality in their thought or sincerity in their
emotion. They employed a marvellous variety of metres ;
eight hundred and seventeen have been classified, ranging
from strophes of three to forty-two lines, and certainly no
other lyric poetry is more rich in its modes of expression.^
iCf. Anglade, pp. 214 ff; Wechssler, op. cit., chap, xviii.
2 Anglade, pp. 10, S3.
so ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
It must not be thought that troubadour verse is wholly con-
ventional in its substance and elaborately artificial in its
form (though too often that is the case), for there were
tragedies in the careers of these singers ; life was not always
May time and we often hear in their verses the note of sin-
cere and deep emotion. They could write in a simpler man-
ner; the following lines from a song by Gautier d'Espinal
have a direct and passionate utterance that we shall meet
again in the early English lyric :
" Sire Deus, car la tenoie
Nuete antra mes dous bras,
Sa bouchata baisaroie.
Molt m'ast bon, quant que li fas.
Na rois ne cuans nen ast mie
Qui'n eiist tant gent solaz,
De tenir sa compaignie
Jamais na saroie laz \"^
" Lord God, would I might hold her
Between my two arms,
I would kiss her little mouth;
It pleases me right wall, whatever I do to her.
There was never king nor count
Who might have such gentle pleasure;
Of attending bar
Never should I be tired."
The first troubadour was Guillaume, count of Poitou, duke
of Aquitaine, who ruled from 1087 to 1127. He stands
among the foremost singers, for he brought the lyric to a
high degree of art. Among other metres, he employed a
strophe which found its way into the poesie populaire; which
was brought to England and used by the early lyrists, later
by writers of miracle plays ; and which finally served the last
of the Scottish vernacular poets — Robert Bums himself:
1 Brakelmann, p. 30.
THE MIDDLE ENGLISH LYRIC SI
" Pus vezem de novelh florir
Pratz, e vergiers reverdezir
Rius e fontanas esclarzir.
Auras e vens,
Ben deu quascus lo joy jauzir
Don es jauzens."^
" When verdant meadows reappear^
And green invades the garden sere.
And river and spring begin to clear,
And zephyrs blow,
The joy that fills our heart with cheer
Must overflow."^
The granddaughter of Guillaume, Eleanor of Poitou,
inherited from him a nature disposed to gallantry and a love
for poetry. In 1152 she married Henry II of England, a
scholar and connoisseur of literature whose court at London
became the center of a brilliant galaxy of French writers.
"I work for a king," said Benoit de Sainte-More, "who knows
better than any one how to distinguish and appreciate a fine
piece of writing."' Eleanor was as great a patron of letters
as was her husband. Deeply in love with her, Bernart de
Ventadorn, considered by modern critics the finest of all the
troubadours, followed her to the English capital where he
sang in her honor the lyrics of the South. Some fifty of his
songs have been preserved; the larger number of hi& finest
ones are addressed to her.
In France and Italy, in Spain and Portugal, the writings
of some four hundred troubadours are known to us (in some
cases only by a few lines), and seventy others, whose lyrics
IC. A. F. Mahn, Die Werke der Troubadours, Berlin, 1846, vol. 1,
p. 8.
2 J. H. Smith, The Troubadours at Home, New York, 1899, vol. II, p.
344.
3 Cf. Gaston Paris, La po^sie du moyen dge, deuxUme sirie, Paris,
1895, pp. 33 ff.
5f ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
have completely disappeared, are known by name; yet of
this great number, there is not a single troubadour who wrote
in English. The reason is not hard to discover ; troubadour
verse was composed for the nobility and Enghsh was the
language of the peasant. It was a full century and a half
after the conquest that the writer of Arthour and Merlin
declares :
" Of Freynsch ne Latin nil y tel more,
Ac on Inglisch ichil tell therfore: (But) (I will tell)
Right is, that Inglische understond.
That was born in Inglond."
When Eleanor's son, Richard Cceur de Lion, a poet and
patron of poets, composed the verses on his captivity, he did
not use a phrase from the language of the land he ruled;
thus, though the troubadour lyric was heard in England, it
could not affect directly English song. Its indirect influence
was great. Petrarch knew and admired the writings of the
troubadours, though he was born after their day, and we
do not need his praise of them in his Trionfo d'Amore to dis-
cover that their ideal of love, expressed in the very phrases
they used, is to be found in many of the sonnets to Laura.
The last of the troubadours, Guiraut Riquier, died in the
closing years of the thirteenth century ; but in Elizabethan
England, through translations and imitations of Petrarch's
sonnets, their songs entered into English verse. Through
another medium they contributed to the development of the
English lyric — through their influence on la poesie poptir
laire.
This poetry, we remember, was an outgrowth of the old
May songs and accordingly we find in it many allusions to
May and to the delights of spring. Though often charm-
ing, these little introductions tend to become purely con-
ventional :
THE MIDDLE ENGLISH LYRIC
" C'est en mai au mois d'este
que florist flor,"
or
" En mai au douz tens nouvel,
que raverdissent prael,
oisoz un arbroisel
chanter le rosignolet.
saderla don!
tant fet bon
dormir lez le buissonet."^
" It is in May in the summer month
That the flower blooms."
" In May at the sweet Spring time.
When the meadows grow green again.
I heard beneath a tree
The pretty Nightingale sing.
Saderla don!
So good it is
To sleep beside the little bushes."
Certainly la poesie popidaire is not folk song, for there is
too much conscious art in it, yet it is nearer than the chmison
courtoise to the folk in its themes, its simpler technique, and
in its personages, often shepherds or peasants. Its refrains,
recalling the old dance songs, were easily remembered and
sung:
" Chibera la chibele, douz amis,
chibera le chibele, soiez jolis." (be loving)
" dorenlot deus or haes, (henceforth hate)
j 'amerai."
1 K. Bartsch, Altfranzosische Bomanzen und Paatourellen, Leipzig,
1870, pp. 54, 22.
34 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" J'ai ameit et amerai
he ! dorelot ! et s'aimme aincor,
deus ! de jolif cuer mignot."' (the sweetheart of fair body)
According to Jeanroy, the oldest French lyric was a song,
expressing varied shades of feeling, put in the mouth of a
young girl, and originally the poesie popidaire showed us
women passionately devoted and submissive to indifferent and
faithless men.^ At the end of the twelfth century, this con-
ception of love changed and men were shown to be the suitors ;
still many of these poems are written from the woman's point
of view, and it is a maid we hear singing:
" Belle Aliz matin leva,
sun cors vesti et para;
enz un verger s'en entra,
cink fluerettes i trouva:
un chapelet fet en a
de rose fleurie.
■pur deu, trahez vous en la
vus ki ne amez mie.' "'
" Fair Alice rose in the morning,
Clothed and adorned herself;
She went into a garden
And found five small flowers there:
She made of them a chaplet
Of roses in bloom.
' For God's sake, go hence
You who do not love at all.' "
Though the chanson courtoise changed the conception of
love in these poems, it by no means introduced its own ideal ;
the women in the poesie populaire are never held as things
1 Pp. 186, 271, 307.
2 A. Jeanroy, Les Origines de la poesie lyrique en France au moyen
dge, Paris, 1889, pp. 225, 445 ff.
SBartsch, op. cit., p. 209.
THE MIDDLE ENGLISH LYRIC S5
enskyed and sainted, while the men, extremely human, are
not satisfied with ecstatic adoration or with contemplating
and analyzing their own feelings.
The poesie popidaire developed genres that are clearly
defined : the pastourelle, in which a rider, generally the poet
himself, wandering in the fields or woods, meets a fair maiden
and makes love to her, usually with success; the debat, in
which the singer maintains an opinion against the argu-
ments of a second person, as in the English ballad of the
Nutbrowne Maide; the chanson de toile, short narrative
poems of belle Erembour or belle Isabeau, sung by women
at their sewing or weaving; the aube, or song of lovers
parted at dawn by the cry of the watch or the notes of the
lark.^ More important in its eiFect on EngHsh verse was
the dance song, the chanson de carole, the rondet, the rondet
de carole; these forms were the most popular ones and
entered more widely into the life of the people than the other
types we have just mentioned. As late as the seventeenth
century. Burton, in his Anatomt/ of Melancholy, tells us that
in France nothing was more common than to see in the
streets women and girls dance en rond or to hear them
"make good music of their own voices and dance after it."
In these songs, the refrain, oft repeated, is the important
element :
" Danses, bale Marion,
ja n'aim je riens se vos non."
and from the refrains developed such dance songs as the
balete, the rondel; for while the troubadours wished to find
for every poem a new metre, and only as an exception, duly
acknowledged, wrote songs modelled on older pieces, folk
song loves to repeat the same phrases and the same measures.
1 See the interesting remarks of Gaston Paris on the Aube in Shakes-
peare's Romeo and Juliet, Journal des Savants, 1893, p. 163.
36 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
These dance songs fairly sing themselves, as this rondel by
Guillaume d' Amiens:
" C'est la finSj koi que nus die,
j 'amerai !
c'est la jus en mi le pre,
c'est la fins, je veul amer,
jus et baus i a leves,
bele amie ai,
c'est la fins, koi que nus die,
j 'amerai."^
" There's an end, whatever any one may say,
I shall love !
It is down there in the midst of the fields.
There's an end of it, that I wish to love.
Games and dances have been started there,
I have a fair friend.
There's an end of it, whatever any one may say,
I shall love."
Long after their origin was forgotten, English poets
inherited from the poesie populaire, the ballade, rondel,
rondeau, and triolet.
There is yet another large and interesting group of
French songs that inspired the English lyric — the Noels,
the oldest form of sacred song in the vernacular tolerated
by the church. Latin Christmas songs were well known :
" Dormi, fill, dormi ! mater
Cantat unigenito:
Dormi puer, dormi ! pater
Nato clamat parvulo.
Millies tibi laudes canimus
Mille, mille, millies."^
1 Bartsch, Chrestomathie, col. 341.
2 E. P. Du M6nl, Poisies populaires latines antirieures au douziime
sUcle, Paris, 184,3, p. 110 n.
THE MIDDLE ENGLISH LYRIC S7
but the Noels, though they have often a Latin refrain, as in
" Cat enfant tout aimable.
In nocte media,
Est ne dans una etable,
Da casta Maria,"^
were in French and were sung by the worshippers in the
churches as they waited for the midnight mass on Christmas
eve. They date from the eleventh century, and in 1194
Lambert, bishop of Arras, speaking of the Christmas fetes,
writes :
" Lumine multiplici noctis solatia praestant
Moraque Gallorum carmina nocta tenant."^
(They overcome the darkness of night by many lights,
and in the fashion of the French, sing songs in the night.)
These Noels, songs of rejoicing not only for Christmas
but for the New Year, were extraordinarily popular; indeed
the word Noel came to mean "vivat," "hurrah," and was
shouted in the streets of London when Henry V returned
from Agincourt in 1415. There was hardly a parish in
France where they were not improvised to meet the demand,
and the early French printers furnished Bibles de Noels by
the score. Hardly a city with a press failed to bring out
its special collection — Paris, Tours, Orleans, Blois, Angers,
Nantes, Vannes, Rennes — the list is a long one, and many
Noels survive only in manuscripts.
The Noels naturally concern themselves with the annun-
ciation ; the birth of Christ ; the slumber songs of the Virgin,
and the visit of the Shepherds and Magi. It is the literature
of high spirits and rejoicing; Adam had destroyed the race:
1 Vieux Noels, Nantes, 18T6, vol. Ill, p. 3.
2J-B. Weckerlin, Chansons populaires du pays de France, Paris,
1903, vol. I.
38 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" Adanij premier pere.
Nous mit en danger
De la pomme chere
Qui'l voulut manger;"^
and with him, Eve is held up to scorn that the Virgin, saving
the race, may be the more honored. All the carols of the
birth of Christ are written from the standpoint of the
peasant, in the language of the curious folk who naively
question the Virgin, as they would a village maiden, on the
great event of which they have just heard, taking a shrewd
satisfaction that "les bourgeois de la ville" and "les gros
marchands" have done nothing, while the shepherds have
brought their gifts to the child.
" L'ung lui a porte son manteau,
Ung autre a porte son bourdon,
Et I'autre a done son costeau,
Ung autre sa bourse en purdon;
Et a la mere
Fesaient grand chere,
Demenans soulas et deduyct
Pour ce mignon venu de nuyct."^
The refrains are a most important part of the Noels.
Rarely are they written without them; often the refrain
occurs after every couplet, at times after every line, such
refrains as :
" Chantons Nolet, Nolet, Nolet,
Chantons nolet encore,"'
which certainly hardly needs the music, it so trips along.
One old Poitevin Noel preserves an interesting chorus :
1 Vieux Noels, vol. I, p. 25.
•i Noels de Lucas LeMoigne, Paris, 1520, in Vieux Noels, I, p. 4.
3 P. 57.
THE MIDDLE ENGLISH LYRIC S9
" Au sainct Nau^
Chanteray sans poinct m'y feindre.
Y n'en daigneray ren craindre,
Car le jour est feriau.
NaUj nau, nau.
Car le jour est feriau."^
Le jour feriau inspired many lyrics in which the religious
signification of the day is quite forgotten in the feasting
and rejoicing; and in the thirteenth century the jongleurs
personified Noel, treating him as a sort of lord of misrule:
"Le Sire Noel
Nous envoie a ses amis."
The Noels have sometimes been lightly spoken of as lack-
ing art, as being monotonous, but they have found an
eloquent admirer in Nodier, who dehghted in their grace
and simplicity of expression, and indeed many of them
possess a charm, a directness of utterance that the lyrics
of higher art rarely reach.^ The following thirteenth cen-
tury Noel, with its single Hne for the leader of the song and
its tenderly written chorus, possesses a beauty that is
enhanced by the haunting melody that accompanies it. Both
from the literary and the musical point of view, it is one of
the gems of mediasval song :
" Entre le bcEuf at I'ane gris^
Dors, dors, dors le petit fils :
Mille anges divins,
Mille serapliins
Volent a I'entour de ce grand Dieu d'amour.
Dors, dors, Roi des anges, dors !
1 II, p. 87.
2 There is an interesting article on Noels by E. Fournier in I'Encyclo-
pidie du dix-neuviime siicle.
W ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" Entre les roses et les lys.
Dors, dors, dors le petit fils :
Mille anges divins,
Mille seraphins
Volant a I'entour de ce grand Dieu d'amour.
Dors, dors, Roi des anges, dors !
" Entre les pastoureaux jolis
Dors, dors, dors le petit fils."^
These lyrics which we have attempted to characterize
needed no scribes to write them down, no manuscripts to
preserve them, for like Vergil's Fame, they flew from mouth
to mouth. They were carried by sailor, by soldier, by trader,
wherever the French or Normans pushed their way. They
were brought to Germany, to Italy, to Portugal, and even
had there been no Norman king at London, they would have
been sung in England. Not only did the French bring
them, but English clerks returning from Paris had learned,
with their mediaeval logic, these French songs. Paris had
become the intellectual center of Europe, "the Paradise of
the world," Richard of Bury called it, and English students,
in large numbers, flocked to its University:
" Urbs beata Parisius
* * » *
Studio locus proprius
Civis clero propitius,
Ad quam redire cogitur,
Quisque ab ea fugerit."^
IF. A. Gevaert: Collection de chceurs sans accom'pagnement pour
servir d, I'itude du chant d'ensemble, 7e Fascicule, Paris, N. D. This
Noel appears in seventeentii century collections. Cf. Weckerlin, Chan-
sons populaires, vol. I, p. 54.
2G. M. Dreves, Analecta Hymnica Medii Aevi, vol. XXI, p. 1833.
See O. Hubatsch, Die lateinischen Vagantenlieder des Mittelalters,
GorUtz, 1870; J. A. Schmeller, Carmina Burana, Breslau, 1894.
THE MIDDLE ENGLISH LYRIC ^1
There they heard the poesie populaire and echoes of the
chanson courtoise; there they learned the Noels; and in the
vast cathedral of Notre Dame, the noblest in Christendom,
they saw the home of the worship of Mary and heard the
songs and hymns in her praise. The poesie populaire as the
chanson courtoise sang of the Virgin as of an earthly
maiden; if "Je suis a vous comme amant a sa mie" could
be addressed to Christ, the lyrics to the Virgin more openly
employed the very phrases of the love poems. Moreover,
these scholares vagantes, sometimes defrocked clerks, stu-
dents drifting from University to University, turning min-
strel to gain their bread, had a body of Latin songs of their
own, generally of wine and women. The church regarded
them with abhorrence ; they were clerici ribaudi maxime, qui
dicuntur de familia Golice, but the common people heard
them and they became the intermediaries between the folk
song and the verses of the poets. This Latin verse, which
gave more than phrases to the English lyric, is a most inter-
esting study. We can give but one example :
" Tempus adest floridum,
surgunt namque floras,
vernales mox in omnibus
jam mutantur mores.
Hoc quod frigus leserat,
reparant calores,
cernimus hoc fieri
per multos colores
" Stant prata plena floribus,
in quibus nos ludamus.
Virgines cum clericis
simul procedamus,
per amorem Veneris
ludum faciamus,
ceteris virginibus
ut hoc referamus.
i^ ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" O dilecta domina,
cur sic alienaris?
An nescis, o carissima
quod sic adamaris?
Si tu esses Helena,
vellem esse Paris:
tamen potest fieri
noster amor talis."^
It need hardly be stated that "Heu quam felix ist j am vita
potatoris" is the burden of many of the poems. These Latin
drinking songs antedate any that exist in French ; Rabelais
cites many old songs, but not a drinking song, and in his
Propos des buveurs, where one would have been highly appro-
priate, he writes, "Chantons, beuvons : un motet — enton-
nons !'"
We have now reviewed the lyric forms that left their
impress on English song — the troubadour verse and the
trouvere imitations of it, the poesie popidaire, the Noels, the
songs of the wandering scholars, and to these we should add
the Latin hymns, especially the large number that dealt with
the lamentations of Mary at the foot of the cross — the
planctus Marice. The influence of these writings did not
overpower and crush into weak imitation the English lyrical
spirit ; it awakened it, enlarged its scope, and enriched its
utterance, for despite its French element, the new lyric that
arose was unmistakably English in thought and feeling.
1 Carmina Burana, p. 183. "Now comes the time of flowers, and the
blossoms appear; now in all things comes the transformation of Spring.
What the cold harmed, the warmth repairs, as we see by all these
colors. The fields in which we play are full of flowers. Maidens and
clerks, let us go out together, let us play for the love of Venus, that we
may teach the other maidens. O my chosen one, why dost thou shun
me? Dost thou not know, dearest, how much thou art loved? If thou
wert Helen, I would be Paris. So great is our love that it can be so."
Cf. J. A. Symonds, Wine, Women and Song, London, 1884.
2 J. Tiersot, Histoire de la chanson populaire en France, Paris, 1889,
p. 318.
THE MIDDLE ENGLISH LYRIC 43
II
Although the earliest lyrics were songs, no Old English
lyric with musical setting has been preserved. A graceful
French love song, dating from about 1175, is our oldest lyric
with musical accompaniment written in England. It was
set down in the outside page of a Latin rejoinder to an
epistle of St. Bernard which attacked the luxury of the
Cluniac monks :
" De ma dame vuU chanter,
Ke tant est bale e bloie: (Qui)
Se mi peusse aseurer,
Trestut sen seroie:" (Trestot)
it begins, and the first stanza ends with a Hne that re-echoes
through many a later song,
" Aura ele ja merci de mei?"^
No doubt there were English translations or adaptations of
such songs, but we have no traces of them ; and there is no
Middle English lyric to which we may ascribe so early a
date. One of the first poems written after the Norman
Conquest is the so-caUed Poema Morale or Moral Ode, a
translation from the Latin. It was a most popular compo-
sition; it exists in seven manuscripts, of which the oldest
dates from the late twelfth or the early years of the thir-
teenth century, and there is reason for believing that this
oldest version is based on a still earlier manuscript that has
been lost. The poem begins in the elegiac mood:
" Ich em nu alder thane ich was awintre and a lare.
Ich welde mara thane ich dade mi wit ahta bon mare.
Wei longe ich habbe child ibon a worde and a dade,
Thah ich bo a wintra aid to yung ich am on rada."
^ Early Bodleian Music, ed. by Sir John Stainer, London, 1901, vol.
II, pp. 1-3.
}^l^ ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" I am now older than I was in years and in lore,
I wield more than I did, my wit ought to be more,
Well long have I been a child in words and in deeds.
Though I be old in years, too young am I in wisdom."^
But after a few verses telling us that old age has stolen
upon the writer unaware, the personal element fades away;
the confessions of the opening lines are forgotten in the
admonitions of the preacher ; and the poem becomes prac-
tically a sermon, with descriptions of dooms-day, the pains
of Hell, the joys of Paradise. Nothing is more fatal to the
lyric than didacticism ; unfortunately for the history of
English song, our earliest writers failed to perceive that a
man cannot preach and sing at the same time.
Almost contemporaneous with this homily is the far more
interesting on God Ureisun of lire Lefdi, A Good Orison of
our Lady, which dates from about 1210.^ It is a love poem
addressed to the Virgin ; the troubadours might have written
it, if we regard merely the thought. It depicts Heaven
as a place where the friends of Mary, adorned with royal
robes, bracelets and gold rings which she has bestowed,
enjoy
" Mirths manifold, without trouble or annoy;
Music and games, abundance of life's pleasure, and eternal
play;"
indeed we have what well may be a reminiscence of the old
May dances :
" Merry sing the angels before thy face.
Playing, carolling, and singing.''
1 Early English Text Society, vol. XXXIV, p. 159. Cf. Anglia, XXX,
p. 317.
2 W. Marufke, Der Aelteste Englische Marienhymnus, Breslauer
Beitrage, Leipzig, 1907, p. 16.
THE MIDDLE ENGLISH LYRIC ^5
This, too, is a homily, yet it has its lyrics :
" Mi leoue lif^ urom thine luue ne schal me no thing to-dealen.
Vor othe is al ilong mi lif and eke min heale.
Vor thine luue i swinke and sike wel ilome.
Vor thine luue ieh ham ibrouht in to theoudome.
Vor thine luue ich uorsoe al that me leof was.
And yef the al mi suluen: looue lif, ithefich thu thes."^
" My dear life, from thy love shall nothing separate me.
For on thee depends my life and also my salvation.
For thy love I toil and sigh very often.
For thy love I am brought into bondage,
For thy love I forsook all that was dear to me.
And gave thee all myself. Dear life, think thou of that."
This is a new theme for English verse ; there are no such
poems to the Virgin in Old English. The prayers and
hymns to Mary are a study in themselves, far too great for
the limits of a single chapter, and we must content ourselves
with mentioning later some typical songs to the
" Levedi, flour of alle thing, (Lady)
Rosa sine spina."
It must not be thought, because these early poems are reli-
gious, that the secular lyric did not flourish. We have lost
many a love song, many a dance lyric, because they were
deemed unworthy of preservation. Even if a scribe felt the
charm of worldly song, he must turn a deaf ear to it. There
is an interesting stanza by Hoccleve, written some two
centuries after the God Ureisun:
IE. E. T. a., vol. XXXIV, p. 191, U. 95-100.
^.6 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" Thise artificers, se I day be day, (These workmen)
In the hotteste of al her bysynesse, (their)
Talken and synge, and make game and play
And forth hir labour passith with gladnesse;
But we laboure in traueillous stilnesse;
We stowpe and stare vpon the shepes skyn.
And keepe muste our song and wordes in."'
The scribes may not sing at their work, yet they must have
known the songs of the folk ; the lyrics of the people must
have floated through the very windows of the scriptorium,
and some of them could not be "kept in." When the first secu-
lar lyrics appear we are not surprised to find them stealing
in furtively on an empty page in a book of prayers, on the
margins of a Psalter, or on the blank spaces of a legal
document.
It is often asserted that Sumer is icumen in is the first
English lyric with music, but on an empty leaf of a Psalter
in the Bodleian is a song whose notation is certainly a quar-
ter of a century older; we may date it about 1225. It is
a complaint, very probably a lover's sadness, simpler and
fresher in its expression than the French song we have cited.
It has the mediaeval dread of winter, for it was written cen-
turies before the leafless trees and the snow-covered hills
seemed beautiful to any one:
" Mirie it is while sumer ilast
With fugheles song; (birds)
Oc nu neeheth windes blast (But now neareth)
And weder strong, (storm)
Ei, ei what this night [is] long!
And ich with wel michel wrong
Soregh and murne and fast."^ (Sorrow)
1 E. E. T. 8., Extra Series, vol. LXI, p. xvii.
2 Early Bodleian Music, London, 1901, vol. II, p. xvil; Chambers and
Sidgwick, Early English Lyrics, London, 1907, p. 3.
THE MIDDLE ENGLISH LYRIC 47
If we place beside this winter piece that spring song of
pure, unreflecting joy, the joy of a child in the open air and
sunlight :
" Sumer is icumen in,
Lhude sing cuccu; (loud)
Groweth sad and bloweth med
And springeth the wde nu," (wood now)
(fortunately it is so well known that we need not quote it)
we shall see that in its beginnings the EngUsh lyric drew
much of its inspiration from the outer world. We have
explained that in the French lyric the descriptions of nature
became conventional ornaments, often having not the
slightest connection with the spirit of the poem ; in the Eng-
lish lyrics the outer life of nature and the inner life of man
are joined in sympathy — "Man is one world and hath
another to attend him" — and spring and winter, birds and
flowers, share in the moods of the poets and reveal them to
us. Viewed as a whole, the English lyric is unequalled in its
descriptions of nature. As we trace its development, we
shall frequently illustrate this statement.
Thus far we have seen nothing of folk song. The lyrics
set to carefully written music are certainly not of the
people ; the harmony of Sumer is icumen in possesses "inge-
nuity and beauty, in a degree still difficult to realize as
possible to a thirteenth century composer." An anecdote in
the Gemma Ecclesiastica of Giraldus Cambrensis tells of the
folk singing their songs about the church. The priest had
listened to them for when he should have intoned at the altar
"Dominus vobiscum," he sang, in the English tongue, in a
loud voice before all the people, "Swete lamman dhin are"
(sweet love, thine aid), to the great scandal of his bishop.
This story belongs to the closing years of the twelfth cen-
tury. We catch no gUmpse of folk song until the first half
of the thirteenth century, and then only in a few lines pre-
J^S ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
served on the leaf of a manuscript in the Bodleian, the open-
ing verses of some eleven songs — only two are French —
jotted down by a minstrel to aid his memory. In some cases
only a single line is left :
" Ichaue a mantel i-maket of cloth,"
and we have but three lines of one which begins charmingly
" Al gold Jonet is thin her." (thine hair)
There is a delicious bit of romance in the song of the maiden
that "in the moor lay sevenights full"
"Wat was hire mete? (her meat)
the primerole ant the violet.
Welle wat was hire dryng.'' (her drink)
the chelde water of (the) welle spring."
Most interesting is the fragment of a dance song, an English
Carole:
" Icham of Irlaunde,
ant of the holy londe
of irlande.
gode sir, pray ich the,
for of saynte charite
come ant daunce wyt me
in irlaunde."
and the oldest EngUsh drinking song is found in the few
lines :
" dronken, dronken, y-dronken,
( ) is tabart atte wyne.
hay ( ) suster, waiter, peter !
ye dronke al depe,
a(nt) ichulle eke."
Such fragments but remind us how much of English folk
song we have lost.^
T-Anglia, XXX, p. 1T3.
THE MIDDLE ENGLISH LYRIC 49
We have now reached the middle of the thirteenth century,
and come to three hymns to the Virgin and God. These
poems, with their music, are found in a manuscript in Corpus
Christi College, Oxford. Written in a much-used verse form,
they show a decided advance in metrical facility over the reli-
gious songs we have cited :
" Edi beo thu heuene quene^ (Blessed be thou)
foUtes froure & angles Wis ; (comfort)
moder unwemmed & maiden clene, (Mother unspotted)
swich in world non other nis.
on the hit is well eth sene (easily seen)
of alle wimmen thu hauest thet pris.
mi swete leuedi her min bene (lady hear my prayer)
& reu of me yif thi wille is."
The second, in the same metre, is much more graceful:
" Moder milde, flur of alle^ (flower)
thu ert leuedi swuthe treowe. (sweet and true)
bricht in bure & eke in halle, (bright in bower)
thi loue is euer iliche neowe:
on the hit is best to calle ;
swete leudi, of me thu reowcj (thou rue)
ne let me neure in sunnes falle (never in sins)
the me yarked bale to breowe."^
We may observe that these hymns do not seem so plainly
written for music as do the secular lyrics. A contempora-
neous song for two voices — once more a love lament — will
show the difference:
" Foweles in the frith.
The fisses in the flod:
And I men waxe wod, (must become mad)
Mulch sorwe I walke with (sorrow)
For beste of bon and blod."^
^E. E. T. 8., vol. LIII, pp. 255 ff.
^ Early Bodleian Music, vol. II, p. 10; Early English Lyrics, p. 5.
50 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
Here is the thought and mood at once expressed ; but the
hymns are long drawn out and we cannot quote them in their
entirety. There is a very interesting poem written by a
certain Thomas de Hales for a maiden dedicated to God,
showing her that Christ is her lover. As Mr. Chambers has
pointed out in his essay on the medieval lyric — at once the
most informing and the most appreciative essay on the early
English lyric that has yet appeared — it is the best example
of the tendency to adapt deliberately "the structure and
conventions of amorous poetry to pious uses in songs of
spiritual love-longing."^ It is equally interesting to notice
that this long poem of twenty-six stanzas was intended to
be sung. Here is a typical passage showing that the great
ones of the earth pass away, a common theme in mediaeval
poetry :
" Hwer is paris and heleyne^
that weren so bryht and feyre on bleo. (fair in hue)
Amadas, tristram^ and dideyne,
Yseude and alle theo^ (those)
Ector with his scharpe meyne, (strength)
And cesar riche of worldes feo, (world's wealth)
Heo beoth iglyden ut of the reyne, (They are) (out of the
kingdom)
so the scheft is of the cleo."^ (as the shaft out of the
bowstring)
As we read this we do not think instinctively of a musical
accompaniment, yet in the last verse we hear the poet admon-
ishing the maiden :
" Hwenne thu sittest in longynge^ (When)
drauh the fortli this ilka wryt; (draw)
Mid swete stephne thu hit singe, (sweet voice)
And do al so hit the byt." (as it bids thee)
1 Early English Lyrics, p. 287.
2 E. E. T. S., vol. XLIX, pp. 95 ff.
THE MIDDLE ENGLISH LYRIC 61
It was because the world was very evil, because earthly love
and beauty passes away, that the poets fixed their love on
the Virgin :
" Mon, wi seestu loue ant herte (Man, why settest thou
love and heart)
on worldesblisse that nout ne last ? (will not last)
wy tholestu that te so ofte smerte, (why sufFerest thou)
for loue that is so unstedefast?
thu likest huni of thorn iwis, (honey)
that seest thi loue on worldesblis,
for ful of bitternis hit is,"^
runs a song, jotted down, about 1265, in a Psalter, but
Mary, "flour of all," can give joy that endures:
" On hire is al my hf ilong,
Of hwam ich wille synge, (Of whom)
And heryen hire ther-a-mong (praise her)
Heo gon us bote brynge (She brought us salvation)
Of helle pyne that is strong.
Heo brouhte us blysse that is long,
Al thureh hire childthinge. (through her childbearing)
Ich bidde hire on my song."^
Generally these poems are songs of praise or devotion, pro-
testations of love, but we hear also the personal note of
confession :
" If urn ich habbe isunehed mid worke and mid worde, (Long
ago) (sinned)
hwile in mine bedde and hwile atte horde,
Ofte win idrunke and selde of the forde, (seldom of the
stream)
muchel ich habbe ispended: to litel ich habbe an horde."'
1 Early Bodleian Music, vol. II, p. 7.
2 E. E. T. 8., vol. XLIX, p. 159. Cf. p. 196.
3 P. 193.
52 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
runs one prayer to the Virgin, and though Christ is besought
to aid the sinner, more hymns are addressed to the one
" that is so fayr and bright
velud maris stella.
Brighter than the day is light,
parens et puellaj
Ic crie to the, thou se to me;
Leuedy, preye thi sone for me,
Tam pia.
Than ic mote come to the,
Maria!"^
Of all the songs to the Virgin none were more popular
than those that described her sorrow at the foot of the
cross — the Plane tus Mariw, the Complaint of Mary, to give
the Latin title which indicates the churchly origin of these
poems. Her own sufferings gave her sympathy for man in
his distress :
" Ladi seinte Marie: Corteis, feir & swete!
iFor loue of the teres : that for thi sone thou lete
When thou seye him hongen: Nayled honden and fete, (thou
saw)
Thou sende me grace in eorthe: Mi sunnes forte bete."^
and accordingly the poets loved to dwell on her sorrows.
Often, however, hearing the Virgin's lamentations, they
sang only of her anguish and forgot their own fears. These
are among the most pathetic lyrics in Middle English; con-
ventional as a class, their theme admitted of variations.
At times it is Mary at the cross we see ; at others, it is Mary
singing her child to sleep and weeping as she foresees his
death. The popularity of these songs is strikingly shown by
the large number that have been preserved in various manu-
1 P. 194.
ilbid., vol. XCVIII, p. 31.
THE MIDDLE ENGLISH LYRIC 63
scripts, the oldest dating from 1260. Priests, clerks, writers
of miracle plays composed them and very few of these poems
fail to touch our feelings.
Ill
The Harleian MS. No. 2253, beautifully written and
splendidly preserved, is one of the most valued possessions
of the British Museum. It is an anthology, our finest col-
lection of Middle English lyrics, dating from about 1310,
for it contains an elegy on Edward I who died in 1307. On
the other hand, some of the poems were composed long before
this, for example, the song on the battle of Lewes (1264) ;
thus the lyrics extend over a period of fifty years. It has
been conjectured that the scribe — the anthologist, we might
call him — ^lived at Leominster Abbey in Herefordshire, but
we know nothing concerning him.^ Surely we may infer that
he had hved the life of a student.
" Scripsi hcec carmina in tabulis!
Mon ostel est en mi la vile de Paris:
May y sugge namore, so wel me is; (I may say no more)
Yef hi deye for love of hire, duel hit ys."^ (grief it is)
runs one of the poems, and from his predilection for French
verse, it is probable that as a clerk he had spent much of his
time en mi la vile; it seems, however, too strong an inference
to speak of his wild student days for which he atoned in the
cloister, as does the best editor of the MS.' At aU events, we
know that he loved nature; that he had been stirred by
patriotism; and that he had felt the charm of youth and
romance. Whether or not he composed any of these poems
IT. Wright, Specimens of Lyric Poetry, Percy Society Publications,
vol. IV, London, 1842, Preface vi-viii.
2 P. 65.
3K. Boddeker, Altenglische Dichtungen des MS. Harl. SS5S. Berlin,
1878.
54 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
(their dialects show different hands), his tastes reveal a
poetic temperament, for the MS. is nothing more or less than
a book in which the writer has copied whatever interested
him. There is no attempt at arrangement; Latin, English,
Anglo-Norman — prose and verse, hymn, love song, patriotic
ballad — follow each other at haphazard. Though there is
no music in these pages, the musical setting is clearly indi-
cated, not so much by such lines as
" Y wole mone my song."
" AUe that beoth of huerte trewe,
a stounde herkneth to my song."
" Lystnethj Lordynges, a newe song ichuUe bigynne."^
but rather by the lilt of the poems, and most of all, by their
refrains :
" Richard, thah thou be euer trichard, (traitor)
tricchen shalt thou neuer more." (betray)
" Euer and oo for my leof icham in grata thohte, (Always)
(great cara)
y thenche on hire that y ne seo nout ofte." (I think) (I
do not sea oft)
" An handy hap ichabba yhant, (A gracious fortune I
have grasped)
ichot, from heuene it is me sent, (I wot)
from alia wymmen mi loua is lent (is turned)
Ant lyht on Alysoun."
or in what was surely the chorus of a folk song:
" Blow, northerne wynd,
sent thou me my suetyng ! (sweetheart)
blow, northerne wynd,
blou, blou, blou."^
1 Pp. 174, 140, 136.
2 Pp. 98, 179, 147, 168.
THE MIDDLE ENGLISH LYRIC 65
The political songs, vivid and forceful in style, are not the
best. They are interesting, as Ritson observed of the grue-
somely realistic poem on the execution of Fraser, chiefly
because they contain "a variety of little incidents not noticed
by historians." Of this group of lyrics, the Husbandman's
Complaint has the most f eehng ; we hear in it the bitter cry
of the poor, ground down by taxes and levies. In modem
dress, it begins as follows:
" I heard men upon the mould make much moan.
How they were harassed in their tilling.
Good ears and corn, both are gone.
We tell no tales, no songs we sing.
Now must we work, other way there is none,
I may no longer live from my gleaning.
But there is a bitterer bite to the bone,
For ever the fourth penny goes to the king."
Thus the song runs on,
" It is hard to lose where there little is.
And we have many who look to us,"
a complaint of the oppressed, hunted like hares, deprived of
their scanty earnings. "^
Of the one hundred and seventeen pieces that compose the
collection, the English lyrics, some forty in number, alone
concern us. Of these the love lyrics are by far the best, and
it is a misfortune that their somewhat difficult dialect has
kept them from being generally appreciated, though
Alysoun, the finest of the series, is familiar to readers of
anthologies. We discover at once in these poems the
influence of the French lyric curiously blended with purely
English qualities. We hear an echo of troubadour verse
when we read of a maiden who dwells in a tower guarded by
ip. 109.
66 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
knights and attendants, or of another adorned in a girdle of
beaten gold set with a stone that turns water to wine, and
who has
" lefly rede lippes lele (leal^ true)
romaunz forte rede." (romances for to read)
We hear it, too, when a poet mourns that he has broken the
rules of the "book of ladies love."'^ Such heroines, one would
say, are not English maidens, but Chatelaines who must be
approached with reverence :
" Adoun y fel to hire anon
ant crie : 'Ledy, thyn ore !
ledy, ha mercy of thy mon !' "^
This note recurs again and again :
" Leuedy of alle londe,
Les me out of bonde, (Loose me from the bonds)
broht icham in wo;
haue resting on honde,
ant sent thou me thi sonde (message)
sone, er thou me slo;
my reste is with the ro."' (roe)
The disfavor of these heroines is fatal:
" To dethe thou hauest me diht,
y deye longe er my day,"
yet the sad plight of these true lovers does not always move
their compassion :
" Nys no fur so hot in helle (There is no fire)
al to mon, (compared to the man)
that loueth derne ant darnout telle (loveth secretly)
whet him ys on."
1 Pp. 179, 157, 156, 152.
2 P. 179.
3 P. 149.
THE MIDDLE ENGLISH LYRIC 57
or
" Ich vnne hire wel, ant heo me wo; (I wish) (she me woe)
ycham hire frend, ant heo my fo; (and she my foe)
me thuncheth min herte wol breke a two (me thinketh)
for sorewe and syke !"^
This is indeed la grands passion, and there is but one
poem in the MS. that is plainly satirical in its treatment of
women.^ The derivation of these love plaints is not hard to
find, for such learned comparisons as :
" Ichot a burde in a hour ase beryl so bryht, (I know a maid)
ase saphyr in seluer semly on syht, (silver)
ase jaspe the gentil^ that lemeth with lyht, (gleameth)
ase garnet in golde^ and ruby wel ryht."
and the personifications are a direct inheritance from the
French.^ The metres too come from across the channel. We
have the Old English alliteration in line after line
" weary as water in a weir,"
" as saphyr in seluer semly on syht,"
but the varied rhyme forms are echoes from the troubadours,
and we find among them that strophe we have quoted from
GuiUaume de Poitiers. One point is particularly notice-
able— the frequent use of the monorhymed stanza. Richard
Coeur de Lion had employed it; Walter Mapes used it in
his Mihi est propositum; it will be seen in the early hymns
we have cited. To-day it is rarely found, as in the song:
" My love's an arbutus by the borders of Lene,
So slender and shapely in her girdle of green.
And I measure the pleasure of her eye's saphire sheen
By the blue skies that sparkle through the soft branching
iPp. 150, 163, 163.
2 P. 151.
3 P. 145, cf. p. 170.
58 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
Even in the more complicated verse forms, the constant
recurrence of the same rhyme is a favorite device. Though
we read these songs in our modern pronunciation, we find
in them a delightful and varied music, the promise of the
melodic richness which was to characterize the later lyric.
Despite these strongly marked French traits both in sub-
ject-matter and rhythm, the songs are thoroughly Eng-
lish— new wine has been poured into old bottles. These
maidens are, after all, women who may be won, and since
doughty deeds are not for wandering students, love plaints
may move them. As one poet observes philosophically :
" Betere is tholien whyle sore, (to suffer)
then mournen euermore,"
and they are not so hopeless as they would appear to be :
" with thy loue, my suete leof, mi blis thou mihtes eche,
a suete cos of thy mouth mihte be my leche." (kiss) (my
healing)
They see a happiness in store for them as it is pictured in
the close of this charming duet :
" 'Whil y wes a clerc in scole, wel muchel y couthe of lore,
ych haue tholed for thy loue woundes fele sore, (suffered)
(many)
fer from [hom] ant eke from men vnder the wode gore;
(wood's edge)
suete ledy, thou rewe of me, nou may y no more !'
" 'thou semest wel to ben a clerc, for thou spekest so stille,
shalt thou neuer for mi loue woundes thole grylle; (suffer
fierce wounds)
fader, moder, and al mjr kun ne shal me holde so stille,
that y nam thyn, and thou art myn, to don al thi wille.' "'
1 P. 173.
THE MIDDLE ENGLISH LYRIC 69
When the background of personification or long-drawn-
out similes is strictly conventional, we have fresh and
delightful portraits of English maidens, dwelHng "by west" :
" Hire bed when ich biholde apon,
the sonnebeem aboute noon
me thohte that y seye."^
" Hyre heye haueth wounded me ywisse^ (eye)
hire bende browen, that bringeth blisse,
hire comely mouth that mihte cusse, (he that might kiss)
in muche murthe he were.
y wolde chaunge myn for his (my lot for his)
that is here fere." (her mate)
" Ich wolde ich were a threstelcok,
a bountyng other a lauerok, (lark)
swete bryd !
bituene hire curtel ant hire smok
y wolde ben hyd."^
It is the hope, seen even in the saddest plaints, expressing
itself in naive asides
" Hire swyre is whittore then the swon (neck)
Ant feyerest may in toune." (fairest maid in the district)
or
" gret hire wel, that swete thing
with eynen gray,"
that gives to these poems their freshness.
One of the most engaging characteristics of these songs
is the frequent reference to nature. We remember that in
the poesie courtoise it was a convention to begin a song with
some allusion to nature, no matter what the subject. A
broadly satiric description of Henry III and his desire to
ip. 155.
2 Pp. 163, 163.
60 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
invade France commences: "Now comes the time of May,
when the rose will open, when the weather is fair and the
nightingale sings; when the meadows become green and the
gardens bloom. I have found something that I shall relate."
These English songs, too, begin with a picture of a country
roadside in May ; or of a garden of flowers, when the "lef is
lyht on lynde," as in the well-known opening lines of Alysown:
" Bytuene marsh ant aueril,
when spray biginneth to springe,
The lutel foul hath hire wyl
on hyre lud to synge. (with her voice)
Ich libbe in loue longinge
for semlokest of alia thinga; (seemliest)
He may me blisse bringe."^ (she may)
or in this bit of melody :
" Lenten ys come with loue to toune, (Spring)
with blosmen ant with briddes roune, (birds' song)
that al this blisse bryngeth ;
dayes-eyes in this dales,
notes suate of nyhtagales,
vch foul song singeth."^ (each)
but such passages are no arbitrary introductions, for the
love of nature, in which Ten Brink sees the folk song assert-
ing itself, runs all through these lyrics, in similes and
descriptions. Here the English poet surpasses his French
masters for he has "more varied and richer details at his
disposal, and is not wont to form an analogy of his personal
sentiments with a certain phase of the life of nature, but
rather lets his feelings appear as part of that life."'
ip. 147.
2 P. 164.
3 G. Ten Brink, Early English Literature to Wiclif, trans, by
Kennedy, N. Y., 1889, p. 305.
THE MIDDLE ENGLISH LYRIC 61
We can merely call attention to the "Man in the Moon,"
a pure bit of fun and probably our oldest humorous song
unmixed with satire,^ for we must turn to the religious lyrics
in this manuscript. They are remarkable for their sincerity.
We find in them no long-drawn-out moral platitudes, but
rather ardent expressions of love for Christ and the Virgin ;
vivid, pathetic pictures of the crucifixion and Mary's grief;
touching lamentations for sins committed; and the char-
acteristic mediaeval scorn of the world as an evil abode. We
can illustrate these points only by brief quotations. The
following lines written in the favorite monorhymed stanza
are a good example of the hymn to Christ :
" Suete iesu, myn huerte gleem,
bryhtore then the sonne beenij
ybore thou were in Bedleheem,
thou make me here thi suete dreem. (song)
" Suete iesu, louerd myn, (lord mine)
my lyf, myn huerte, al is thin,
vndo myn herte^ ant liht ther yn,
and wite me from fendes engyn."^ (shield) (the fiend's
artifices)
The songs to Mary closely resemble the songs to Alysoun ;
though the poet writes of the Virgin, the following intro-
duction might well serve for a love poem :
" Ase y me rod this ender day (other day)
by grene wode to seche play,
mid herte y thohte al on a may, (with my heart) (on a
maiden)
Suetest of alle thinge;
Lythe, ant ich ou telle may (Listen) (I may tell you)
al of that suete thinge."^
1 Bbddeker, p. 176.
2 Pp. 191, 192.
3 P. 218.
6B ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
The adaptation of secular verse for religious purposes
long persisted, and to-day the church has not disdained to
borrow from the opera music for its hymns. None of Bach's
chorales has a deeper religious significance than "O sacred
head now wounded," yet he took the melody from an old
German love song composed by Hans Leo Hassler. The
Latin hymns of the church were frequently parodied for
political and satirical purposes. In this manuscript we find
side by side, written by the same hand, an amorous poem,
" Lutel wot hit anymon, (Little) (any man)
Hou derne loue may stonde^ (secret)
bote hit were a fre wymmon, (unless it)
that muche of loue had fonde,"
with a refrain taken possibly from a folk song :
" Euer ant oo for my leof icham in grete thohte, (and always)
(care)
y thenche on hire that y ne sec nout ofte;'' (I do not often
see)
and a religious poem that is its exact counterpart :
" Lutel wot hit anymon,
hou loue hym haueth ybounde,
that for vs othe rode ron, (on the rood)
ant bohte vs with is wounde
Euer ant oo, nyht ant day, he haueth vs in thohte.
He nul nout leose that he so deore bohte."^ (will not lose
that which)
The pictures of the crucifixion are vivid and realistic as
an altar piece by one of the old masters :
iPp. 178, 231.
THE MIDDLE ENGLISH LYRIC 63
" Heye vpon a doune,
ther al folk hit se may, (where)
a mile from the toune,
aboute the midday,
the rode is vp arered; (cross)
his frendes aren afered,
ant clyngeth so the clay;
the rode stond in stone,
marie stont hire one, (stands alone)
ant seith 'weylaway !' "^
The contemptus mimdi furnishes the pessimism in these
songs :
" Wei ichot, ant soth hit ys,
that in this world nys no blys, (there is no bliss)
bote care, serewe, ant pyne."^ (sorrow)
and this behef finds expression in one of the most beautiful
poems in English literature. Its metre is perfectly adapted
to the thought and the long, slow line that closes each stanza
has a "dying fall," a melancholy echo, like the last chords
of a dirge :
" Wynter wakeneth al my care,
nou this leues waxeth bare; (these branches)
ofte y sike ant mourne sare, (sigh)
when hit cometh in my thoht,
of this worldes ioie, hou hit geth al to noht.
" Nou hit is, ant nou hit nys, (Now it is not)
also hit ner nere ywys; (as though it had never been)
that moni mon seith, soth hit ys : (what many)
al goth bote godes wille, (except God's will)
alle we shule deye, thah vs like ylle.
iP. 211.
2 P. 194.
e^ ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" al that gren me greueth grene,
nou hit faleweth al bydene; (fadeth all suddenly)
iesu, help that hit be sene,
ant shild vs from helle,
for y not whider y shal^ ne hou longe her duelle."'^ (For I
know not) (I shall go)
If we compare the English and Anglo-Norman poems in
this manuscript, we shall find that the English songs are not
only more sincere in their feeling, but, what is rather sur-
prising, more musical and artistic in their form. There is
a curiously realistic Anglo-Norman poem on winter, or
rather, on what winter means to the writer, which we may
contrast with Winter wakeneth all my care. It is somewhat
like comparing a Skeltonic outburst with a sonnet by Shake-
speare, and indeed there is much of Skelton's spirit in these
lines :
■ When I see winter return
(Which troubles me
Because the season changes)
Then I love a split log.
Charred wood sputtering
Embers flaring.
Fire of twigs, for joy I sing
For I love it so much."^
After continuing in this strain, the writer proceeds to an
enumeration, three pages in length, of what he likes to eat!
The Anglo-Norman love poems are certainly less sponta-
neous, following established custom in laying down the laws
ip. 195.
2 T. Wright, Specimens of Lyric Poetry, p. 13.
THE MIDDLE ENGLISH LYRIC 66
for true lovers, reading lessons in "fyn amour," or going to
the other extreme and satirizing the follies of womankind:
" La pie de costume (The magpie)
Porte penne e plume
de divers colours;
E femme se delite
En estraunge habite,
de divers atours."
"La pie est jangleresse" but woman "d'assez jangle plus."^
Without citing other examples, we may safely assert that
at the beginning of the fourteenth century English song
had not only learned a new melody and grace of expression
from the French lyric, but rivalled and, in certain charac-
teristics, surpassed it.
We have spent much time on MS. Harleian 2253 because
it is the first collection of lyrics in the English language,
and because it represents practically all the moods of the
lyrical spirit of the late thirteenth and early fourteenth
centuries. It is a misfortune that our early lyrics are
neglected and that they are regarded as the province of the
philologist or of the student of the history of our literature.
The difficulties of their language, supposedly great, are
slight indeed, and their thoughts, quaintly expressed, are
not utterly alien to our own, for we find many times that
the strangeness lies in the form of expression. We do not
need a special training to admire the early masters of paint-
ing though their technique and their methods are far removed
from ours ; we appreciate mediaeval carving ; we are thrilled
1 P. 107. On page 163 of this volume is a very graceful Anglo-
Norman love song, with a refrain in the metre used in Alysoun:
" Je pri k Dieu e Seint Thomas,
Qe il la pardoigne le trespas !
E je se verroiement le fas
Si ele merci me crye."
66 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
by the beauty of the churches and cathedrals that arose at
the very time these songs were in the making. Surely no
one, though utterly unskilled in mediaeval literature, can fail
to admire the feeling and the art of these early poets even
when they see another world than ours. These lyrics are but
miniatures when we compare them with the superb frescoes
of later poets, yet "in small proportions we just beauties
see," and they should be known to all who enjoy the art of
the Middle Ages.^
These lyrics we have discussed were written by clerks ;
consequently they show the marks of a certain degree of
learning and culture. The folk lyric of this period, simpler
and less sophisticated, has disappeared. We saw traces of
it in some of the refrains, and we get a glimpse of it in a
poem written about 1303 in a law treatise preserved at
Lincoln's Inn. The poet, riding in the woods, hears a "litel
mai" singing:
" Now springes the sprai ! —
Al for loue I am so sake (sick)
That slepen I ne mai."
" Sone i herde that mirie note; (Soon)
Thider I drogh; (I drew)
I fond hire [in] an herber swote (arbor sweet)
Under a bogh.
With ioie inogh.
Sone I asked 'Thou mirie mai,
Hwi singestou ai' .'' (Why singest thou ay)
Now springes the sprai.
1 Chambers and Sidgwick's Early English Lyrics should win for our
early songs the popular recognition they so richly deserve. This collec-
tion, indispensable for the study of the lyric, can hardly be praised too
highly; it appeals with equal force to the scholar and to the general
reader.
THE MIDDLE ENGLISH LYRIC 67
" Than answerde that maiden swote
Mid wordes fewe —
'Mi lemman me haues bi-hot (my love) (promised)
Of loue trewe;
He chaunges a-newe.
Yif I mai, it shall him rewe (it shall repent him)
Bi this day' "^ (Concerning this day)
Here we have the woman's song, the oldest form of the
Carole.
In Arthour and Merlin, a translation of a French romance
made shortly after 1300, we find a number of nature songs;
they are not in the French, and they have no connection with
the plot. It seems quite probable that they are snatches of
folk song :
" Mirie time is Auerille,
than scheweth michel of our wille;
In feld & mede floures springeth,
In grene wode foules singeth;
Yong man wereth jolif, (becomes)
& than proudeth man & wiif."^
IV
We have now reached the fourteenth century, and for the
first time we meet the poets themselves. One of the earliest
writers is Lawrence Minot, of whose career we know abso-
lutely nothing except that the twelve war songs from his
pen, preserved in a single manuscript, were evidently written
i Modern Language Review, vol. IV, p. 236; vol. V, p. 104. It was
written as prose.
2E. Kolbing, Arthour and Merlin, 11. 259-264; cf. 11. 4675-4680, 739T-
7400.
68 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
at the time of the events they describe, between 1333 and
1352. They have little grace either of metre or diction; but
they are filled with life and action, and express with straight-
forward, vigorous utterance a nation's pride in battles won.
As the editor of Minot has well said, "His predecessors in the
political poem had attacked abuses, exposed grievances, or
written in the service of a faction. He is the first to speak
in the name of the English nation just awakened to a con-
sciousness of its unity and strength."^ The poems are
directed against the archenemies of England — the Scotch
and the French — and ring with the exultation of victory,
even when in reality the English had the worst of the
argument.
" Whare er ye, Skottes of Saint lohnes toune?
The boste of yowre baner es betin all doune;
When ye besting will bede sir Edward es boune (will oiFer) (is
ready)
For to kindel yow care and crak yowre crowne:
He has crakked yowre croiine, wele worth the while;
Schame bityde the Skottes for thai er full of gile."^
Whatever Minot's career may have been, he certainly trailed
a pike in a conquering army for he has the unmistakable
gaudia certaminis. Though the comparison is by no means
a fair one, yet if we place beside Minot's roughhewn lines
the polished couplets of Addison's Campaign, we instantly
perceive the difference that exists between the war songs of
a soldier and the compliments of a courtier. Minot has his
heroes, and his poems give the honor roll of English valor,
as in his song on the defeat of the French at the sea fight at
Sluys, 1340:
1 J. Hall, Poems of Laurence Minot, Oxford, 1887, p. xiii.
2 P. 6.
THE MIDDLE ENGLISH LYRIC 69
" The gude Erie of Glowceter, God mot him glade,
Broght many bold men with bowes ful brade;
To biker with the Normandes baldely thai bade (to fight)
And in middes the flode did tham to wade ;
To wade war tho wretches casten in the brim; (in the sea)
The kaitefs come out of France at lere tham to swim, (to
learn)
" I prays lohn Badding als one of the best;
Faire come he sayland out of the suthwest.
To proue of tha Normandes was he ful prest, (full ready)
Till he had foghten his fill he had neuer rest."'
Minot well understood how to use proper names effectively,
and in this respect he may be named with Scott:
" Day set on Norham's castled steep,
And Tweed's fair river, broad and deep.
And Cheviot's mountains lone."
We leave his poems with this cry of triumph over Crecy
(1346):
" Oway es all thi wele, i-wis,
Franche man, with all thi fare ;
Of murning may thou neuer mys.
For thou ert cumberd all in care:
With speche ne moght thou neuer spare
To speke of Ingliss men despite;
Now haue thai made thi biging bare, (thy house)
Of all thi catell ertou quite."^ (thy goods art thou de-
prived)
We approach the first commanding personality in Eng-
hsh literature — Geoffrey Chaucer (1340P-1400) — and find
to our surprise that his lyrics show but faint marks of his
1 P. 16. It is interesting to compare Minot's work with that of mod-
ern writers, in Christopher Stone's War Songs, Oxford, 1908.
2 P. 25.
10 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
genius. It is a commonplace to observe that Chaucer,
Spenser, Shakespeare, and Milton are the four greatest
English poets — who shall stand beside them is the subject
for debate — but it is not always remembered that of these
four writers, Chaucer alone has left us no lyrics entirely
worthy of his fame. Had Spenser written nothing but the
Prothalamion and the Epithalamion, Shakespeare nothing
beyond his songs and sonnets, Milton but his odes and son-
nets, they would have been always honored as great poets
who had given us
" soul-animating strains — alas, too few!"
If Chaucer's reputation depended on his lyrics, he would be
little more than a half-forgotten name.
It was in 1372-1373, twenty-four years after the death of
Laura, that Chaucer made his j ourney into Italy ; it is possi-
ble that he had gone to Rlilan in 1368 for the marriage of
Lionel Duke of Clarence. Whether or not he actually met
Petrarch (and it seems probable) he must have heard his
sonnets for they had won instant admiration ; as a matter
of fact, in Troilus and Criseyde Chaucer has translated, not
following the form, Petrarch's quatorzain which begins
"S'amor non e, che dunque e quel ch'io sento.''"'^ In the
Monk's Tale, Chaucer speaks of "my master Petrarch,"
"the only place," Professor Lounsbury observes, "in which
he seriously gives this designation to any author whatever" ;^
yet Chaucer is not sufficiently impressed by the beauty of the
Cavzonicre either to introduce the sonnet form into English
literature, or to imitate the Italian poet's lyrical treatment
of love. On the other hand, Chaucer knew the English songs
of his time, and it has often been pointed out that nearly all
the Canterbury pilgrims are musical, from the squire who
sang such love plaints as the Italians wrote, to the pardoner
1 Lines 400-420.
2 T. R. Lounsbury, Ptudhs in Chmicer, New York, 1893, II, p. 224.
THE MIDDLE ENGLISH LYRIC 71
■who well understood the attracting power of simple English
ditties :
" Full loude he song: Come hider love to me,"
yet if we wish to hear the songs of Chaucer's England, we
must turn from the Canterbury Tales to the manuscript col-
lections of lyrics by unknown writers. Shakespeare incor-
porates in his plays the popular lyrics of the day; Chaucer
gives them a passing reference in a line or two.
The reason for this is sufficiently obvious. Chaucer had
the temperament of the dramatist, of the story teller. When
he studies the heart with its impulses and waverings ; when
he observes the passions and thoughts of men and women,
he thinks of a tale and not of a song. The lyric poet asks
nothing more than to express a single mood or emotion,
detached, and sufficient unto itself; but in Chaucer the social
instinct was strong and what he wished to study and to
depict was the interplay of character. The humorous side
of life, which appealed so strongly to him, can be expressed
but very inadequately in lyric verse. In the House of FaTne
we are told that Chaucer had set his wit
" to make bokes, songes, dytees.
In ryme, or elles in cadence,"
but the songs and ditties are not many.^ The lyric seemed
to him too small a province.
When Chaucer sought models for his lyrics, he turned to
the writings of his French predecessors and contemporaries.
"The note, I trowe, maked was in Fraunce," he says of the
rondel sung by the birds in the Parlement of Foules, but this
applies to his other lyrics. His A. B. C. to the Virgin is not
a hymn inspired by his own religious sentiment, but a trans-
lation from De Deguilleville's Pelerinage de VAme. He bases
ILI. 622-623.
7B ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
the three ballades that form the Compleynt of Venus on three
ballades of Granson:
" And eek to me hit is a greet penauncCj
Sith rym in English hath swich scarsitee.
To folowe word by word the curiositee
Of Graunson, flour of hem that make in Fraunce."
There are undeniable strains of English song in his verse.
We hear the earlier lyric in the following Hnes from the
Bohe of the Duchesse:
" Lord, hit maketh myn herte light.
Whan I thenke on that swete wight
That is so semely on to see;
And wisshe to god hit might so be.
That she wolde holde me for her knight.
My lady, that is so fair and bright."^
and in these verses from his Compleint to his Lady:
" My dere herte, and best beloved fo.
Why lyketh yow to do me al this wo.
What have I doon that greveth yow, or sayd.
But for I serve and love yow and no mo?
And whylst I live, I wol do ever so ;
And therfor, swete, ne beth nat evil apayd.
For so good and so fair as [that] ye be.
Hit were [a] right gret wonder but ye hadde
Of alle servants, bothe goode and badde;
And leest worthy of alle hem, I am he."^
These passages are not so characteristic of Chaucer's
lyrics as are his ballades, written not in the eight line stanza,
but in the seven line rhyme royal. The best of them are
marked by a dignified, earnest, eloquent utterance:
ILL 1175-1180.
2 LI. 64.-73.
THE MIDDLE ENGLISH LYRIC 73
" That thee is sent, receyve in buxumnessCj (submission)
The wrastling for this worlde axeth a fal.
Her nis non hoom, her nis but wildernesse :
Forth, pilgrim, forth ! Forth, beste, out of thy stal !
Know thy contree, look up, thank God of al ;
Hold the hye wey, and lat thy gost thee lede :
And trouthe shal delivere, hit is no drede."^
Among the best is Lah of Stedfastnesse, in which the poet
laments that
" Trouthe is put doun, resoun is holden fable;
Vertu hath now no dominacioun,
Pitee exyled, no man is merciable.
Through covetyse is blent discrecioun;
The world hath mad a permutacioun
Fro right to wrong, fro trouthe to fikelnesse.
That al is lost, for lak of stedfastnesse."
The love ballades are not as successful.
" Hyd, Absolon, thy gilte tresses clere ;
Ester, ley thou thy meknesse al a-doun,"
from the Legend of Good Women^ has melody but cata-
logues too much, giving us a list of names rather than a
series of brief but vivid pictures, such as we find in Villon's
incomparable Ballade of Dead Ladies. The Triple Roundel
of Merciles Beaute is too obviously an imitation to possess
much life ; but there is one rondel of Chaucer's so graceful
and musical that it deserves to be quoted and with it we
leave his lyrics :
" Now welcom somer, with thy sonne softe.
That hast this wintres weders over-shake,
And driven awey the longe nightes blake !
1 Truth.
2 Prologue, Text B, 11. 249-269.
74 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" Seynt Valentyn, that art f ul hy on-lof te ; —
Thus singen smale foules for thy sake —
Now melcom somer, with thy sonne softe.
That hast this wintres weders over-shake.
" Wei han they cause for to gladen ofte,
Sith ech of hem recovered hath his make;
Ful blisful may they singen whan they wake;
'Now welcom somer, with thy sonne softe.
That hast this wintres weders over-shake.
And driven awey the longe nightes blake.' "^
If we compare this with the songs of the previous century,
we see that the touch is firmer, the art is more sure, for it
comes from the hand of a master.
We cannot leave the fourteenth century without a men-
tion of two contemporaries of Chaucer — Richard RoUe and
the unknown author of The Pearl. Rolle (d. 1349) is one
of the most interesting characters of Mediaeval England.
Had he but founded an order, his name would have been
known throughout the world, for he had the qualities of a
great rehgious leader — ^intense convictions, an enthusiasm
that bordered upon fanaticism, and the power to express
his thoughts simply and vividly. He was both a dreamer
and a man of action ; he divided his life between mystic
contemplation and preaching a practical, everyday morality
to the peasants of Yorkshire. His poems have little grace
or art ; they are filled with emotion, for his rehgious fervor
expresses itself directly, without reflection. Two stanzas
are sufficient to show his style and his feehng :
" My sang es in syghyng, whil I dwel in this way;
My lyfe es in langyng, that byndes me nyglit & day,
Til I com til my kyng, that I won with hym may, (dwell)
And se his fayre schynyng, & lyfe that lastes ay.''
^Parlement of Foules, 11. 680-692.
THE MIDDLE ENGLISH LYRIC 75
" Sygh & sob, bath day and nyght, for ane sa fayre of hew.
Thar es na thyng my hert mai light, bot lufe, that es ay new.
Wha sa had hym in his syght, or in his hert hym knew.
His mournyng turned til joy ful bryght, his sang in til glew."^
(glee)
Whether or not we accept The Pearl as the actual record
of a personal bereavement, the lyric element in the poem is
lost in description, allegory, and even didacticism. The
poem, certainly one of the most beautiful in our language,
is not a series of moods treated lyrically, for its author con-
siders not so much his own feelings as the visions he has
invoked. The lyric poet uses the world of nature and the
world of dreams to interpret his own feehngs ; the writer of
The Pearl reverses this process and his feehngs of grief or
joy measure the power of his dreams. Despite certain lyri-
cal stanzas. The Pearl lies outside our province.
If the fifteenth century showed, so far as the lyric is con-
cerned,
" No master spirit, no determined road,"
it cannot be taunted with a "want of books and men."
Hoccleve (1368?-14<4<8) and Lydgate (1375-14.4.9) fol-
lowed Chaucer as best they could, and while in their verse
schemes they showed a certain technical achievement, they
lacked both his art and his inspiration. When Hoccleve
writes a poem lamenting his ill-spent Hfe, he gives us a
rambling confession in fifty-six eight-line stanzas. His
1 C. Horstmann, Richard Bolle of Hampole, London, 1895, vol. I, pp.
75, 78.
76 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
poetry is often personal ; his Complaint narrates his sickness,
his loss of reason, the desertion of his friends, but there is
no lyric cry in it. At times he employs well-known lyric
themes, but he cannot treat them lyrically:
" How fair thyng or how precious it be
That in the world is, it is lyk a flour^
To whom nature yeuen hath beautee (given)
Of fressh heewe and of ful pleasant colour;
With soote smellynge also, and odour; (sweet)
But as soone as it is bicomen drye,
Ffarwel colour and the smel gynneth dye."^
This is pretty crude, especially when we consider that we
are approaching the sixteenth century. Much better is his
Modir of god, long considered above his style and accord-
ingly attributed to Chaucer.^
Lydgate is a more important figure, but a poor writer of
lyrics. Like Hoccleve he is exasperatingly prolix, and
though we find in his religious poetry lines and stanzas that
have decided merit, the next page invariably destroys the
effect. A recently discovered lyric. The Child Jesus to Mary,
the Rose, has both sincerity of feeling and graceful expres-
sion, and exhibits the best traits of his work.^
This age produced a third poet whose work is contained
in MS. 682 Harleian. It consists of a series of most inter-
esting lyrics that are English translations of poems by
Charles d'Orleans. For a considerable number of them no
French originals have as yet been found, but in all proba-
bility they are merely English versions of work by Charles
that has disappeared. This English translator (Professor
MacCracken believes him to be Suffolk, the friend of
IB. B. T. 8., Extra Series, LXI, p. 119.
2 P. 52.
3B. E. T. S., Extra Series, vol. CVII, p. 78.
THE MIDDLE ENGLISH LYRIC 77
Charles) was a skillful writer, for many of these lyrics have
all the lightness and charm of the French.^ What could be
more delightful than the following rondel?
" My gostly fadir, y me confesse,
First to god and then to yow,
That at a wyndow, wot ye how,
I stale a cosse of gret swetnes ; (kiss)
Which don was out avisynes,
But hit is doon not undoon now.
My gostly fadir, I me confesse.
First to God and then to yow.
" But y restore it shall dowtles
Ageyn if so be that y mow.
And that [to] God y make a vow.
And ellis y axe foryefnes. (else I ask)
My gostly fadir, I me confesse,
First to God and then to yow."
If we believe this gay song to be modelled on some undis-
covered French lyric, the following seems thoroughly Eng-
lish in both its theme and its expression :
" This time when lovers althermost defie (most of all)
Eche hevy thought as ferforth as thai may, (as utterly)
And rise or phebus in the morow gray, (rise before)
Leiyng aside all slouthe and slogardy,
To here the birdis synge so lustily,
Ovyr the spryngyng bodies on the spray.
This tyme when lovers althermost defie
Eche hevy thought as ferforth as thei may.
ISee Publications of M. L. Association, vol. XXVI, No. I, pp. 143-
180.
78 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" Thyn waylyng on my pilow thus y ly,
For that as was and now is goon for ay,
Wisshyng no more but deth eche howre of day,
Saiyng 'my hert, alias whi nelt thou day' ? (why wilt thou
not die)
This tyme when lovers althermost defie
Eche hevy thought as ferforth as thei may."^
As we leave these three writers — Hoccleve, Lydgate, and
the translator of Charles d'Orleans — it is worthy of notice
that the French metres they so assiduously cultivated, fol-
lowing Chaucer's example, did not become a part and parcel
of English verse. Despite Wyatt's rondeaux, the Tudor
lyrists and, above all, the Ehzabethans cared nothing for the
ballade or rondel. It was left for the poets of the nine-
teenth century to domesticate them.
More interesting than the works of these courtly makers
are the more popular forms of the lyrics — the songs in the
Miracle plays, the carols, and the large body of anonymous
verse, secular and rehgious.
It is unquestionably true that many of the lyrics in the
Mystery plays and in the Moralities are much older than
the fifteenth century. The York cycle was composed about
1350, and the references in Chaucer to "pleyes of miracles"
and to such stock characters as Noah and Herod prove con-
clusively that these dramatic entertainments were widely
known in his day. Yet the Mysteries flourished particularly
from 1400 to 1500; they have come down to us in manu-
scripts that date from that period; and it is quite probable
that their lyrics, however old they may be, are preserved in
fifteenth century form. For convenienoe we shall consider
with the Mystery plays the Moralities also, though they were
at their height in the first decades of the sixteenth century.
^ Poems written in English by Charles Duke of Orleans, ed. by G. W.
Taylor, Roxburghe Club, London, 1827, pp. 174, 177.
THE MIDDLE ENGLISH LYRIC 79
In reading these early dramas we are at once struck by
their lyrical quaUty. They contain not only many songs
but a large number of short poems, not written for music,
yet expressing musically a deep personal emotion. Songs
written for a single voice, for three parts, or for a chorus
are introduced with such frequency that the scribes did not
trouble to copy them, but merely indicated where they
occurred. Evidently they could be easily suppKed.
Presbyter: " now, boy, I pray thee lett vs have a song!
Boy: I home and I hast, I do that I may,
With mery tune the trebyll to syng."^
(Synge both.)
We find the three part song in the Morality of Wisdom:
Mynde : " A tenor to you both I brynge.
Vnderstondyng : And I a mene for ony kynge.
Wyll: And but a trebyll I out-wrynge,
the deuyU hym spede that myrth exyled,
(Cantent.)
Thus the shepherds in the Nativity plays arrange their
parts :
primus pastor: " lett me syng the tenory.
iius pastor : And I the tryble so hye.
iiius pastor: Then the meyne fallys to me;
lett se how ye chauntt.'
"2
"3
It will be noticed that in none of these passages are the
songs given. More often we find no such introduction for the
lyrics but instead a stage direction, "Here shall enter a ship
with a merry song," "Et tunc cantant," "Tunc cantant
1 E. E. T. S., Extra Series, LXX, p. 101.
2 P. 160.
3 Vol. LXXI, p. 122.
80 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
angeli Te Deum." The songs that are actually included in
the text make us regret that so many have been lost. One
of the best is sung by the "gossipes" who, with Noah's wife,
refuse to enter the ark:
The Good Gossipes Songe.
" The flude comes fleeting in full faste.
One every syde that spreades full fere;
For feare of drowninge I am agaste;
Good gossippes, lett us drawe nere
And lett us drinke or we departe.
For ofte tymes we have done soe;
For att a draughte thou drinkes a quarte,
And soe will I do or I goe.
Heare is a pottill full of Malmsine, good and stronge;
It will rejoyce bouth liarte and tonge;
Though Noye thinke us never so longe,
Heare we will drinke alike."^
As Noah's wife sings with these roisterers, it is fair to
assume that intemperance was not a vice peculiar to the
Patriarch, but rather a family weakness and that quite pos-
sibly it was once more a woman who started the man on the
downward path. From the very first line with its splendid
alliteration, such a lyric is an excellent example of the popu-
lar drinking songs. Surely the unknown poet who wrote it
caught the rollicking swing from some tavern catch.
While this song is adequate to the situation, many are not.
Although David, for example, asserts:
" As god of heuen has gyiFyn me wit.
Shall I now syng you a fytt, (a song)
With my mynstrelsy;"
1 A. W. Pollard, English Miracle Plays, Moralities and Interludes,
fifth ed., Oxford, 1909, p. 15. Cf. E. E. T. S., Extra Series, vol. LXII,
p. 57.
THE MIDDLE ENGLISH LYRIC 81
his song does not justify his reputation :
" Myrth I make till all men,
With my harp and fyngers ten.
And warn theym that they glad;
ffor god will that his son down send.
That wroght adam with his hend.
And heuen and erthe mayde."^
Turning from actual songs, to short poems lyrical in their
subjective spirit, we find that none are more beautiful than
the verses spoken by the shepherds at Bethlehem:
" Hayll, full of favoure.
That made all of noght !
Hayll! I kneyll and I cowre.
A byrd haue I broght
To my barne.
Hayll, lytyll tyne mop !
Of cure crede thou art crop:
I wold drynk on thy cop,
Lytyll day starne.
" Hayll ! swete is thy chere !
My hart wold blede
To se the sytt here
In so poore wede.
With no penny s.
Hayll ! put furth thy dall ! (thy hand)
I bryng the bot a ball :
Haue and play the with all,
And go to the tenys."^
Surely Herrick must have remembered these lines when he
wrote To his Saviour, a Child.
1 E. E. T. S., vol. LXXI, p. 59.
2 P. 139.
82 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
There are so many lyrics in these plays that the choice is
difficult; we have them from the lament of Adam, written in
the metre employed by Guillaume de Poitiers,
" Gone ar my games with-owten glee,
Alias ! in blisse kouthe we noht bee.
For putte we were to gret plente
at prime of the day,
By tyme of none alle lost had wee, (of noon)
sa welawaye."
to the praise of Christ, sung by eight burgesses as he enters
Jerusalem :
" Hayll ! dyamaunde with drewry dight, (jewel adorned)
Hayll ! j asper gentill of Jewry,
Hayll ! lylly lufsome lemyd with lyght."^
It is evident that the secular lyric has been adapted in this
passage, as in many others. Conversely, it would be easy to
cite places where many of the Latin hymns of the church
and religious lyrics in the vernacular were "taken over bodily
by the play-writers and adapted to dramatic purposes,"
especially the prayers to Christ and the Virgin and the
lamentations of Mary at the cross, for the connection between
the popular lyric and the Miracle plays was an extremely
close one. As a whole these dramatic lyrics suffer from the
chief fault of the plays of which they form a part — prolixity
and lack of variety — yet many of them are extremely beau-
tiful in their simple, naive expression of great emotions, and
all of them are deserving of study, for they are the stock
from which sprung the flower of song in the Elizabethan
1 L. T. Smith, York Mystery Plays, Oxford, 1885, pp. 32, 217.
2 Despite Bell's Songs from the Dramatists and BuUen's Songs from,
the Elizabethan Dramatists, there is needed a more comprehensive
anthology of the songs in the English drama, and the writer has one in
preparation.
THE MIDDLE ENGLISH LYRIC 83
From 1400 to 1500 is the carol period par excellence.
Though the tradition continued through the sixteenth cen-
tury, and carol collections were printed during the seven-
teenth century, yet the Reformation began that suppression
of Christmas festivity and song which the Puritan revolu-
tion accomplished; as it pulled down the shrines of the Vir-
gin, so it destroyed the fabric of song which the carol makers
had raised in her honor. The carols were the work of many
hands ; we know the names of but a few of the makers — John
Audelay, a blind priest of Haughmond Abbey, Shropshire,
who wrote about the year 1426, is one of the earliest.^ It is
easy to recognize the authorship of priest and clerk in the
macaronic verse of many of the songs, or in such choruses as :
" Mater, ora filium, vt post hoc exilium
Nobis donet gaudium beatorum omnium,"^
and in the numerous carols of wassailing, which beseech in
the most open way a bountiful largess, we certainly see the
hand of wandering singers.
Though many carols are preserved for us in the blank
pages of MSS. containing more serious matter, six MSS. are
especially rich in the collections of Christmas songs they
contain ; none of these go back as early as the first reference
to Noels in France. What is believed to be the oldest carol
written in England is an Anglo-Norman wassail song that
contains no reference whatever to the Nativity, but considers
the season as a time for "li vins Engleis, e li Gascoin, e li
Franceys" or for "joie d'amours." It closes with the follow-
ing stanzas :
1 See Chambers and Sidgwick, Fifteenth Century Carols by John
Audelay, Modern Language Review, vol. V, No. IV; VI, No. I. Cf.
Anglia, vol. XVIII, p. ITS.
2 E. E. T. 8., Extra Series, CI, p. 21.
84. ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" Seignors, jo vus di par Noel, (je vous dis)
E par li sires de cest hostel,
Car bevez ben: (buvez bien)
E jo primes beverai le men, (je boirai le mien le premier)
E pois apres chescon le soen, (cbacun le sien)
Par mon conseil;
Si jo vus di trestoz 'Wesseyl' ! (Si je vous dis)
Dehaiz eit qui ne dirra, 'Drincheyl !' "^ (Honi soit
qui)
"Wesseyl" and "Drincheyll" are Saxon words, and undoubt-
edly they formed part of the pagan songs sung at the mid-
winter feasts, songs which the church was unable to suppress
and wisely turned to the pious uses of Christmas joy. There
is probably, then, an element of old English poetry in some
of the carols, but the influence of the French Noels is much
more apparent. Naturally there are a certain number of
themes which must be treated in aU Christmas songs, and the
carols of every nation must resemble each other, but the
carols on "My lord, sire Christmas," whom the early French
jongleurs impersonated, and the very many choruses "Noel,
Noel, Noel," clearly show the French provenance. The
fact that these songs are called as a class "carols," and not
"noels," indicates that they were sung and danced, as were
the old May songs, and were thus in the popular mind classed
with the spring dance songs. The sti^cture of many of the
carols, two, three, or four hues on one rhyme, with a chorus,
shows that they were well adapted for the dancing singers.^
The carols may be roughly divided into songs of mirth
and revelry, and songs on subjects connected, however
remotely, with the nativity. The first group is interesting
chiefly for its exuberance of good spirits. Hitherto the lyric
has been chiefly amorous, contented to describe a lover's woes ;
here we have heart-easing mirth, whole-souled epicureanism,
IT. Wright, Specimens of Old Christmas Carols, Percy Society Publi-
cations, vol. IV, p. 2.
THE MIDDLE ENGLISH LYRIC 85
boisterous feasting, when the halls are decked with ivy and
holly, when the boar's head is placed on the table, and the
wassail bowl "spiced to the brim," is passed around :
Beuvex bien par tutte la company.
Make gode chare and be ryght merry.
And syng with us now joyfuUy,
nowell."^
How long these customs prevailed is shown by the echo of
these carols in the more refined songs of Robert Herrick.
From the literary standpoint, the best carols are written on
the annunciation and the nativity. They sing the slumber
songs of the Virgin ; they show us the adoration of the shep-
herds, "joly Wat" and his companions; and they treat all
these themes either with a childlike idealism which our
sophisticated age cannot imitate, or with a realism equally
remote from us because of its utter simplicity. Especially
charming are the carols in praise of Mary, the Rose among
maidens :
" There is no rose of swich vertu
As is the rose that bare Jhesu.
Alleluia.
" For in this rose conteined was
Hevene and erthe in litel space.
Res miranda."
" Of a rose, a lovely rose.
Of a rose is all mine song.
ip. 51.
86 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
The flour sprong in heye Bedlem,
That is bothe bright and schene. (fair)
The rose is Mary, hevene quene;
Out of her bosum the blosme sprong."^
It will be noticed that sentimentality, that blight of the
modern religious song, is not found here.
The most beautiful of the carols made in honor of the
Virgin, we might even say of all the carols, is "I sing of a
maiden."
" He cam also stille
Ther his moder was.
As dew in Aprille
That falleth on the grass.
He cam also stille
To his moderes hour.
As dew in Aprille
That falleth on the flour.
He cam also stille
There his moder lay,
As dew in Aprille
That falleth on the spray."^
Such refinement of melody is rare in any poetry. In the
thought of the song we have strangeness added to beauty,
mysticism expressed in the language of a child. But slightly
inferior to this are some of the Virgin's slumber songs :^
" This endris night I saw a sight,
A stare as bright as day;
And ever among a maiden song,
'Lullay, by by, lullay.'
iPp. 105, 103.
2 P. 107. For the genesis of this carol see Modern Philology, vol. VII,
p. 165.
3 See Cambridge History of English Literature, vol. II, chapter xvi,
N. Y., 1908.
THE MIDDLE ENGLISH LYRIC 87
" 'My dere moder, whan time it be.
Thou take me up on loft.
And sette me upon thy knee^
And handell me full soft;
And in thy arme thou hill me warme,
And kepe night and day;
If that I wepe, and may not slepe^
Thou sing. By by, luUay.' "'
but the tenderness changes to pathos when the child foretells
what it must suffer:
" A babe is born, our blysse to brynge,
A maide ther was dyd luUy and synge;
She saide 'dere sone, leve thy wepynge.
Thy fFader ys the kyng of blis.'
Synge we [with angelis, gloria in excelsis.]
" 'Lullay,' she sange and saide also,
'My nowne dere sone, why artow wo?
Haue I not do that I sholde do?
Thy grevaunce, telle me what it is !'
'Nay, modir, for this wepe I nought.
But for the wo that shal be wrought
To me, er I mankynde haue bought:
Was neuer no sorwe so lyk, I wys.' "^
If we turn from such songs to the shepherds :
" Terly terlow, terly terlow.
So merily the shepardes began to blow !"
we see that the range of the carols is no small one.
We have treated of the carols at some length because of
all the early English songs they are the surest to survive;
for if their words appeal to us, their setting is equally
attractive. As a musical critic has pointed out : "Tunes of
1 Early English Lyrics, p. 121.
^Modern Language Notes, vol. XXIV, No. 7, p. 225.
88 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
three centuries ago do not always seem very closely con-
nected with individual subjects, and the constant resetting
to other words which went on shows that they were not
considered so by musicians of the time. 'Greensleeves,' as
secular a song as ever was written, was sung to carol words
while Cavaliers shouted it as a party watchword
But the carols appeal to modern ears as perfect expres-
sions of their subject The truth seems to be that at
this early time musicians had arrived at just the right
technique for the expression of the carol theme. Their
church training had cultivated the instinct for pure melodic
movement ; their system of rhythmic modes, complicated
as it seems to students who try to master it at the
present day, taught them to reflect the metre of the poetry
with extraordinary closeness, and at the same time, con-
trasted with the stiffness of the modem bar line, the musical
effect of their work is wonderfuUy buoyant and free."'^ And
apart from the beauty of their music, the carols possess a
deep interest in the fact that they represent a lost art. We
can never reproduce their simpHcity — which is their greatest
charm. In our carols that seem infused with the old time
spirit, we see the modern touch in the too finely wrought
antithesis, or in the adjective, too vivid and too descriptive,
as in Christina Rossetti's :
" In the bleak mid-winter
Frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron.
Water like a stone ;
*****
" Enough for Him whom cherubim
Worship night and day,
A breastful of milk
And a mangerful of hay."^
1 London Times, Dec. 25, 1909.
2 From A Christmas Carol.
THE MIDDLE ENGLISH LYRIC 89
We have but short space left for the large number of
anonymous lyrics found in fifteenth century manuscripts ;
many have not been printed and there is an interesting
field of work here for the student of our early poetry. It
was in this age, above all other periods, that the ballads
were composed. We shall not consider them, for, as we
pointed out in our first chapter, they are dramatic narra-
tives, little epics, rather than lyrics. Many of the ballads
have purely lyrical stanzas, especially at their opening or
close :
" In somer when the shawes be sheyne, (groves) (fair)
And leves be large and long,
It is full mery in feyre foreste
To here the foulys song;"
yet as a class, these poems do not belong to our subject.
The anonymous songs differ widely from the earlier ones
we have described. In general, the old alliteration has
largely, though not entirely, disappeared; the metres have
been simplified; and, the one inheritance remaining from
the French courtly lyric, the lover is shown in a submissive
attitude. Two groups of lyrics are quite sharply defined —
the humorous and convivial songs and the love lyrics. In
-the manuscripts they jostle each other, and we find beside
the eminently decorous and mournful love plaint, "My
wofuU heart of all gladness barren," the coarse but vigorous
•"Be pes, ye make me spiU my ale." There are many such
drinking songs, "Tapster, drynker, fille another ale," or
" Jentill butler, bellamy.
Fill the boll by the eye;''
to cite merely the opening lines is to describe them. The
humorous songs are much closer to life than was the Man
in the Moon:
90 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" How hey ! it is none lese,
I dare not seyn, whan sche seith 'Pes !'
" Ying men, I warne you everichone,
Elde wives tak ye none.
For I myself have one at home.
I dare not seyn, whan sche seith 'Pes !'
" If I aske our dame fleich, (meat)
Sche breketh mine hed with a dich;
' Boy, thou art not worth a reich' (rush)
I dare not seyn, whan sche seith 'Pes !' "^
But even in these uncourtly songs, woman was not always
slandered. At the end of a long MS. of curious questions
and answers, such as
" Miht any man, on dry lande well.
Go aboute ye worlde everydele," (every part)
are a few blank pages ; one contains the following defense
of womankind:
" I am as lighte as any roe
To praise womene where that I go."
" To onpreise womene it were a shame.
For a woman was thy dame.
Our blessed lady bereth the name
Of all womene where that they go.
" A woman is a worthy thing;
They do the washe and do the wringe;
' Lullay, luUay !' she dothe thee singe ;
And yet she hath but care and wo.
" A woman is a worthy wight ;
She serveth a man bothe daye and night;
Thereto she putteth alle her might;
And yet she hath but care and wo."^
1 Early English Lyrics, p. 207.
2 P. 197.
THE MIDDLE ENGLISH LYRIC 91
The love songs have gained a grace, not only in their
expression but in their sentiments, as in this madrigal of the
middle of the fifteenth century :
" Go hertj hurt with adversite.
And let my lady thi woundes see.
And sey hire this as I say the:
' Farewel my joy and welcome peyne
Til I se my lady agayne.' "
or in this, from the same MS. :
" Thus I compleyne my grevous hevynesse
To you, that knowith this of myne entent.
Alas, why shuld ye be so merselese.
So moche beute as God hatha you sent.
Ye maj' my peyne relese.
Do as ye list — I hold me content."^
We pass by the famous patriotic song on Agincourt,
" Owre kynge went forth to Normandy,
With grace and myght of chyualry,"
and the popular Song of the Plow,
" The plowe gothe mony a gate,
Bothe erly and eke late.
In winter in the clay,
Aboute barly and whete.
That makethe men to swete.
God spede the plowe all day!"^
to come to two important MSS. The first, of one hundred
and forty-five pages, contains the words and music of fifty-
one two, three, and four part songs, and is considered the
IMS. Ashmolean 191. Printed in Early Bodleian Music, vol. II, pp.
68, 70.
2 Vol. II, pp. 129, 132. The Song of the Plow is printed in Early
English Lyrics, p. 241.
m ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
oldest English collection of secular songs written for several
voices. It is called the Fairfax MS. because it was once in
the possession of Robert Fairfax, a musician and composer
of such fame that he was given the degree of Doctor of
Music by Cambridge in 1504 and by Oxford in 1511 ; indeed
it is quite possible that he copied it himself, for he eked out
his income by writing such music books. Fairfax, who is
named as the composer of eight of these songs, died in 1529,
yet many of the songs undoubtedly belong to the fifteenth
century, for some were written by Turges and Tudor, two
musicians of the time of Henry VI, and another composer
was Gilbert Bannistre, who died about 14!90. The songs
are political, religious, amatory; we select two of the last
class, the first one, in its simplicity, retaining something of
the folk song:
" My Margarit
I can not mete
In feeld ne strata.
Wofull am I, woffull am I !
Lave loua this chaunce,
Yor chere avaunce.
And let vs daunce.
Hark my lady, hark my lady,
So manarly, so manerly, so manerly \"^
The second song, absolutely different in its style, reads
as though it were an attempt to translate an Italian love
sonnet, the form imperfectly apprehended:
" That was my Joy, is now my woo and payne,
That was my bliss, is now my displesaunce.
That was my trust, is now my wanhope playne, (despair)
That was my wala, is now my most gravaunce.
What causyth this but only yowre plasaunce,
Onryghtfully shewyng me unkyndness,
1 E. Fliigel, Neuenglisches Lesebuch, Bd. I, Halle, 1895, p. 143.
THE MIDDLE ENGLISH LYRIC 9S
That hath byn your, fayre lady and mastress,
Nor nought cowde haue — wolde I neuyr so fayne.
My hart is yours with gret assuraunce,
Wherfore of rygt ye shuld my greffe complaynej
And with pite haue me In remembraunce.
Wolde In no wise, for Joy nor heuvyness,
Haue but yourselfe, fayre lady and mastress."^
The second MS. contains ninety-eight part songs, written
from the time of Edward IV to Henry VIII. Many of them
are composed in a high and courtly mood,
" Absense of yeu causeth me to sygh and complayne,
Ffor of my hert ye haue the gouvernavnce,
And thogh I wolde, I kovde me not refrayne,"
but we have carols, drinking songs, and moral ditties. The
future course of the lyric is better indicated by this fresh
and simple love song:
" Fayr and discrete, fresche wommanly figure.
That with youre beute and fresche pleasaunee pure,
Arested hathe my hert in sodeyn wise,
I recommende my symple seruice sure.
My lyues ladi and my hertis cure,
Vnly to youre swete grace, a thousand sythe. (times)
Besechyng yeure excuse there I surprise ;
Sum loue commaunds me this auenture,
Thorffe ( ?) with yeur bevty that I most loue and prise."^
The songs of the fifteenth century have not yet come to their
own ; many are lying undiscovered on the margins or on the
1 British Museum, MS., Add. 5465, printed by B. Fehr in Archiv, CVI,
p. 57. A line seems to be omitted after verse seven. Early English
Lyrics prints six other songs from this MS.
2 MS. Add. 5665, printed by Fehr in Archiv, CVI, pp. 279, 380.
H ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
last pages of forgotten manuscripts, but they deserve recog-
nition, and -without them we can not adequately estimate the
work of Wyatt and Surrey.
VI
We now approach the last conspicuous writer before the
Renaissance of the English lyric. John Skelton (1460-
1529) studied at Cambridge and was given a degree for
achievement in letters — it was called the laureateship — by
both his Alma Mater and by Oxford. His honors did not
end there, for his widely recognized scholarship caused
Henry VII to select him as the tutor of his son, the future
Henry VIII, and to bestow on him in recognition of his poetic
ability a white and green robe with "Calliope" embroidered
on it. Surely here is the English Petrarch. Despite these
dignities, Skelton's life was a stormy one ; after many
quarrels at court, duly and dully chronicled in verse, he
retired to a country parsonage from whose shelter he
courageously attacked the luxury and arrogance of Wolsey.
Finding his life endangered by his biting satire of the
prelate, he fled for refuge to a monastery at Westminster,
where he died. His fame was great. Caxton praised his
translations from the Latin because they were written "not
in rude and old language, but in polished and ornate terms,
craftily" ; Erasmus, ever a keen critic, described him as "the
sole light and glory of English letters" ; in Italy, Pico da
Mirandola sang his praises.
We open his works to find Mediaevalism ; they contain
hardly a touch of Renaissance art and grace, of the dolce
stil nuovo. Skelton possessed a keen, alert, and vigorous
mind, yet he could not comprehend the new spirit. One of
the greatest egoists in our literature (there are some thou-
sand lines of self-adulation in his Garland of Laurel) he is
THE MIDDLE ENGLISH LYRIC 95
content with himself; he has nothing to learn from the new
lyric verse of Italy or France which he must have known, at
least in part. At a time when men were feeling the charm
of a new manner of poetic expression, Skelton is content to
write :
" For though my ryme be ragged,
Tattered and jagged,
Rudely rayne beaten,
Rusty and moughte eaten.
If ye take well therwith.
It hath in it some pyth."^
A few lines are sufficient to show his position so far as the
art of poetry is concerned; it is significant that the chief
field for study in his works is his language, extravagant,
grotesque, and often drawn from the slang of the day.
Could he have understood the significance of Petrarch (whom
he calls a "famous dark" in the Garland of Laurel),
Skelton's strong personality would have made him at once
a leader ; the honor of ushering in the modern English lyric
would have been his. English song lacked art and higher
themes, but Skelton ofi'ers us burlesques, personal contro-
versy of the rough and tumble sort, and a coarse, realistic
humor. Pope, with his love of finish, stigmatized the poet
as "beastly Skelton," an undeserved taunt, for he possessed
a genuine lyric gift ; Taine, in his too unfavorable criticism,
does not hesitate to call him a "genie manque."
Skelton's formal lyric is lifeless ; we derive no pleasure
from his elegies on Edward IV or the Duke of Northumber-
land, or from such a love poem as Go, piteous sighs. To
see him in a thoroughly characteristic mood we must read
Mannerly Margery:
1 A. Dyce, The Poetical Works of John Skelton, London, 1843, vol.
I, p. 313.
m ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" Ay, besherewe yow, be my fay.
This wanton clarkes be nyse all way;
Avent, event, my popagay !
What, will ye do no thyng but play?
Tully, valy, strawe, let be, I say !
Gup, Cristian Clowte, gup, Jak of the vale !
With, Manerly Margery Mylk and Ale."-'
It is small wonder that this spirited piece was set to music
in song collections of the period. Another piece of realism,
My darlyng dere, is a veritable chanson des Gueux, resem-
bling a tavern scene by Jan Steen, in which we see the
reveller in his drunken sleep, robbed by his paramour :
" 'My darlyng dere, my daysy floure.
Let me,' quod he, 'ly in your lap.'
'Ly styll,' quod she, 'my paramoure,
Ly styll hardely, and take a nap.'
Hys hed was heuy, such was his hap.
All drowsy dremyng, dround in slepe,
That of hys loue he toke no kepe,
With, Hey, lullay, lullay, lyke a chylde,
Thou slepyst to long, thou art begylde."^
Yet Skelton could write with grace and delicacy:
" Enuwyd your colowre (renewed)
Is lyke the dasy flowre
After the Aprill showre.
" Sterre of the morow gray, (star)
The blossom on the spray.
The fresshest flowre of May,"
is his lyric description of Mistress Isabel Pennell, while a
greeting to Mistress Margaret Hussey ends with this tune-
ful compliment:
1 Vol. I, p. 28.
2 P. 22.
THE MIDDLE ENGLISH LYRIC 97
" Stedfast of thought,
Wele made, wele wrought;
Far may be sought
Erst that ye can fynde
So corteise, so kynde
As mirry Magarete,
This midsomer flowre,
Jentyll as fawcoun
Or hawke of the towre."
His touch can be light and delicate :
"With margerain jentyll, (marjoram)
The flowre of goodlyhede,
Embrowdred the mantill
Is of your maydenhede.
Plainly I can not glose;
Ye be, as I deuyne.
The praty primerose.
The goodly columbyne."^
Unfortunately such moments are rare. Skelton had no part
in the development of the lyric for he could not read the
signs of the times, and though we remember him for a few
lyrics, he serves chiefly to show how great were the poetic
reforms introduced by Wyatt and Surrey. There is a signifi-
cant passage concerning him in a letter of James Howell's :
"Touching your Poet-Laureat Skelton, I found him at last
(as I told you before) skulking in Duck-lane pitifully tat-
tered and torn ; and, as the times are, I do not think it worth
the labour and cost to put him in better clothes, for the
Genius of the Age is quite another thing."^
We have now reached the dawn of the Renaissance in Eng-
land. We pause for a moment to look back upon the early
1 Pp. 401, 403, 398.
2 J. Jacobs, The Familiar Letters of James Howell, London, 1892,
vol. II, p. 605.
9S ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
love songs, the hymns and carols, the lyrics of the guild
plays and of the Court. Interesting and beautiful many of
them are, yet added to their intrinsic worth is their promise
of greater things. The Renaissance spirit had not yet
awakened England. Italy had already produced the lyrics
of Guido Cavalcanti, of Dante, of Petrarch, to mention but
three great names. A single glance in Eugenia Levi's
Lirica Italiana at the long list of poets who flourished from
1250 to 1500, the very period we have been studying, will
show by comparison how retarded was the lyric impulse in
England. Across the channel, France with troubadours and
trouveres, with the great body of popular verse, with Villon
and Charles d'Orleans, had a memorable lyric poetry.
Turning to England we are tempted to exclaim
" Alas ! what poverty my Muse brings forth,"
but the impulse, the genius for song was there awaiting a new
spirit to transform it. The Middle Ages had produced in
England poems of a rare and simple pathos ; exquisite pic-
tures of the Virgin mother ; songs of pure joy that once
known are never forgotten. Judged by no historical or
antiquarian standards but simply as works of art, as an
expression of life, they deserve a wider recognition, not as
a field for scholarly investigation but as a source of enjoy-
ment for the plain lover of poetry. From another viewpoint
they are valuable : they enable us to appreciate the lyrics of
our own day. To turn from the modern lyric with its ever
varying moods, its pessimism, its aspiration, its subtle
analysis of feeling, its delicate coloring, its elusive music,
to these simple, straightforward songs, redolent of spring,
suffused with a sincere and childlike devotion for the
"maiden moder milde" and for Alysoun, is to realize in the
most striking manner the endless complexity and the
unfathomed depths of our modem thought and feeling.
CHAPTER THREE
The TuDoa Lyuic
All his life Petrarch (1304-1374<) ardently desired fame.
Though genius is generally neglected and often persecuted,
he attained, in realization of his wishes, honors which few
men have ever reached. The nobles of Italy vied in praising
this scholar poet; they prepared for him sumptuous apart-
ments hung with purple ; they placed him at their tables at
high feasts ; they entrusted to him princely embassies ; and
when in 1341, amid the clangor of trumpets and the
applause of Rome, the laurel crown was placed on his head,
it was but a more public manifestation of the honors con-
tinually bestowed upon him. It would seem glory enough
for one man to have overthrown the scholasticism of the
Middle Ages, to have led in the revival of learning, to have
changed the intellectual attitude of Europe, but there was
yet another triumph in store for him — to give to the world
a new lyric poetry.
A note in Petrarch's own hand on the margin of his Virgil
tells us that on Good Friday, 1327 he first saw Laura in the
church of Santa Chiara at Avignon. From that moment,
she ruled his life :
" Dice che, perch' io miri
Mille cose diverse attento e fiso,
Sol una donna veggio e'l suo bel viso."
" I say that though I regard
A thousand diflPerent things, attentively and fixedly,
I see only a woman and her lovely face."^
1 From the canzone "In quella parte.''
100 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
Who Laura was, we cannot tell with certainty, and since
Petrarch himself wished to hide her identity, it is enough
to say that she was a woman whose beauty inspired in this
youth of twenty-three a love, or rather a cult, which her
death in 1348 but intensified and to which he consecrated
not "a night of memories and of sighs" but a whole life-
time. The poetry that sprang from this love was based
not on outward events but on inward experiences ; it was a
lyric that sang not of action but of contemplation. As a
wit once compressed into a dozen couplets the events of
Richardson's long-drawn-out romance. Sir Charles Grandi-
son, so (but in no spirit of irreverence) the actual happen-
ings of the Canzoniere may be told in a few quatrains. The
sonnets offer us but detached incidents — ^Laura wears a
veil, she smiles, she weeps, she sees the poet, she gathers
flowers, she bathes in a stream — and it is extremely doubt-
ful whether we should interpret literally the few references
to what are apparently actual events. There is no develop-
ment in such a passion; the poet's love has undergone no
essential change from the moment he first saw Laura until
the day of her death, for, as De Sanctis observes, Petrarch
has written but the first page of a romance — the plot is
lacking. Never was such splendid lyric poetry based on
so slender a foundation of actual occurrences.' The most
subjective lyric may be closely connected with the manifes-
tations of the outer world, springing directly from the
poet's thoughts on the life that passes before him. In
Browning's Last Ride Together how much of the world we
see ; but the greater number of Petrarch's love lyrics spring
from introspection, for he fed
" on thoughts that voluntary move
Harmonious numbers."
iCf. G. Finze, Petrarca, Firenze, 1900, pp. 97 ff.
THE TUDOR LYRIC 101
It is accordingly a just criticism that compares the lyrics
of Petrarch to a diary in which he has written, for fifty
years, his thoughts on love precisely as they came to him.
Hence to seek in his sonnets for a sequence of events, or to
attempt to arrange them in a definite, logical order except
in such broad divisions as sonnets on the beauty of Laura,
on the power of his love for her, on his unhappiness, on her
death, is to misunderstand totally the spirit in which these
verses were composed.
In his subtle yet eminently sane analysis of the Canzoniere,
De Sanctis admits that Petrarch, with all his exquisite sensi-
bility, with his clear and penetrating mind, lacked origi-
nality, profundity, and productive force; accordingly we
find in this modern poet much of the old school. The start-
ing point of the Canzoniere is in the poetry of the trouba-
dours which Petrarch knew thoroughly and from which he
borrowed not only ideas, but at times the very phrases in
which they were expressed; hence all we have written con-
cerning these early singers applies to a certain part of Pe-
trarch's lyrics. Thus Love, a mystic power springing from
a single glance from Laura's eyes, entered the poet's heart
"Con la vertu d'un subito splendore," as he expressed it in
a noble Hne. Henceforth the poet is the servant of Laura
and the vassal of the cruel tyrant. Love, who appears in so
many debates that we may say there are three characters in
the tragedy of the Canzoniere — Laura, Petrarch, and Amor.
Leaving the inheritance from the past, we discover in the
sonnets much that is new. We must content ourselves with
alluding to but three great characteristics of Petrarch's
lyrics: his analysis of feeling, his love of beauty, and the
music of his verse.
Petrarch by nature was given to melancholy :
" Ed io son un di quei che'l pianger giova "
he wrote and in many passages he praises sorrow :
102 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" Pasco'l cor di sospir', ch'altro non chiede;
E di lagrime vivo, a pianger nato :
Ne di cio duolmi ; perche in tale state
E dolce il pianto piu ch'altri non crede."^
" I feed with sighs my heart that asks nothing more;
And I live on tears, born to weep ;
Nor do I grieve at this for in such a state
Weeping is sweeter than any one believes.''
He delighted to dream in solitude on his unhappy state and
this native melancholy, this disposition of his mind to retire
within itself, was intensified by a love placed on a woman
forever beyond him. The more he thinks of Laura, the more
he ideahzes her until she becomes the epitome of all virtues,
an angel but new descended from the skies. It is not sur-
prising that in 1336 Giacomo Colonna wrote to the poet
suggesting that such a love was a fiction, an allegory, and
that Petrarch was enamoured of the poetic Laurel, not
Laura. We do not need Petrarch's reply to convince us
that however much of Platonic idealization entered into his
picture of Laura, she was a woman of flesh and blood who
inspired not intellectual admiration but love. From Pe-
trarch's character, this love does not burst forth in the
simple, moving accents that invariably mark the speech of
a man stirred by a great passion ; there is more of the lyric
cry in the songs of many a lesser poet. Certain passages
in the Canzoniere contradict this statement ; we must except,
for example, that masterpiece, the sonnet which describes
Laura meeting the poet in the third heaven, the sphere of
Venus, or those famous Hues in the sestina which begins
"A qualunque animale alberga in terra" :
■' Con lei foss' io da che si parte il sole,
E non ci vedess' altri che le stelle,
Sol una notte ! e mai non fosse I'alba."
1 From the sonnet beginning "Poichfe '1 cammin m'fe chiuso di mer-
cede."
THE TUDOR LYRIC lOS
" With her would I be^ when the sun sets.
And would that no one save the stars saw us,
One night alone ! and would it were never dawn !"
but such moments are rare, and in the very next line of the
sestina the poet descends to the trivialities of allegory and
mythology and plays upon the words Laura and lauro.
Petrarch is swayed by emotions rather than by passions;
the sonnets are the anatomy of a lover's melancholy, and
De Sanctis rightly points out the resemblance between Pe-
trarch and Hamlet. Both show the same hesitation, the
same love of thinking too precisely on the event, the same
enjoyment in a self-analysis that ends in melancholy. The
strong nature, swayed by great affections, finds relief in
action, while the more sensitive spirit gains satisfaction in
the contemplation of its own sorrows.^ Emotion, incapable
of action, becomes melancholy and in Petrarch, even before
the death of Laura, the prevailing note is one of sadness ;
the poet writes more beautifully of Laura when he sees her
with the eyes of memory or of the spirit than when he
actually beholds her.
This sadness, then, is caused as much by the poet's irreso-
lution as by his unhappy love. He will neither shun nor
accept his fate; like Hamlet, he meditates self-slaughter
but fears the Almighty's canon against it. We see a soul
tossed hither and thither by conflicting emotion; he curses
the time he first saw Laura, and in another mood he blesses
the place, the day, the moment that brought him this love.
He tells us that this love has ennobled him and that it leads
him to heaven ; he protests that it has ruined him by causing
him to consume his days in vanity. It would be a simple
matter to accumulate any number of such inconsistencies — -
and it must not be forgotten that the sonnets cover a long
1 F. De Sanctis, Saggio critico sul Petrarca, nuova edizone a cura di
B. Croce, NapoU, 1907, p. 138.
104 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
period — for the mind of Petrarch is constantly wavering.
Throughout the sonnets there is but one consistent note —
his love for Laura. In vain he struggles to forget and even
to despise it. His irresolution is as tragic as the death of
Laura ; he can show others the way to happiness but he can
not follow it himself. "Father in Heaven," he cries, "after
so many days and nights spent in vain pursuits, let me turn
to a higher life and to nobler undertakings," but the prayer
is never answered. When, far from Laura, he resolves to
banish her from his mind and take refuge in a religious life,
the single thought that he has tarried too long sends him
back to her.^ The motto of the Canzoniere might well be
Daniel's verse, "Love is a sickness full of woes."
To this self-analysis, astonishingly modern in its com-
plexity and in its suggestiveness, Petrarch added the charm
of artistic expression, for he sought to picture the beauty of
the world, the charm and loveliness of womanhood. A thor-
ough Platonist, he considered beauty to be an expression
of divinity, another form of virtue, and therefore to be
sought out and worshipped. Laura embodies every per-
fection and in contemplating her, the mind rises to heaven
and beholds the Creator. Writing in such a spirit, Petrarch
is everywhere the artist. All through the Canzoniere he has
scattered pictures, often as small as the miniatures of a
missal, full of color, drawn to the life, whether he brings
before us in a few phrases the woods and the song of the
birds at evening, or an aged pilgrim, worn and bent, jour-
neying painfully to the distant shrine. He realized that in
the short sonnet form every word, each syllable, must count
for its effect and therefore every line is carefully wrought ;
yet in the finished expression we do not feel the labor of the
artist and many of the quatorzains read as though they
were improvisations. If we turn to the masterpiece of the
1 See the sonnet "L'aspetto sacro."
THE TUDOR LYRIC 105
Canzoniere, "Chiare, fresche e dolci acque," we find all the
traits we have been discussing. We have the poet's melan-
choly as he thinks of Laura and dreams that some day she
may sigh and weep above his grave ; we have that wonderful
memory picture, worthy of the highest art of Botticelli —
Laura seated on the grass, the Queen of Love, while around
her and upon her the trees shower their blossoms.
This psychological analysis, this descriptive art is ex-
pressed with a verbal music in itself sufficient to make the
sonnets immortal. As De Musset wrote:
" Lui seul eut le secret de saisir au passage
Les battements du coeur qui durent un moment;
Et, riche d'un sourire, il en gravait I'image
Du bout d'un stylet d'or sur un pur diamant."^
It is extremely doubtful whether we can ever grasp the full
content of poetry written in a foreign tongue ; while we may
understand the essential meaning, we miss the fine shadings,
the subtle associations of words that are not our own. What
Italian can appreciate the immeasurable loss had Cole-
ridge written not "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner," but
"The Poem of the Old Sailor" ; yet the melody, the harmony,
the enchantment of Petrarch's verse must appeal to every
one. The sonnets were actually songs ; some were composed
to the lute ("Perche, cantando, il duol si disacerba"), and
in his own day his contemporaries set them to music. In the
sixteenth century, the greater part of the Canzoniere —
ballate, sestine, canzoni — were given a musical accompani-
ment by the most famous composers. When Serafino
deU' Aquila went through Italy chanting Petrarch's verses,
we may easily believe the statement that "to hear him
sing them to the lute, was to hear every other harmony
surpassed."^
lie Pila du Titien.
2 F. Flamini, Varia, Livorno, 1906, p. 179.
106 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
Petrarch frequently expressed the hope that death would
not destroy his fame, that for centuries his sorrows would
still bring tears to the eyes, and even his ambition would
have been satisfied, possibly dismayed, could he have fore-
seen the effect the Canzoniere was to produce. To the lyrists
who came after his day, there was but one poet; in the six-
teenth century but thirty editions of Dante were published
in Italy, while in this same period one hundred and seventy-
seven editions of the Canzoniere appeared. It is not too
much to say that no poet in the world was ever so widely,
so slavishly imitated. For more than two centuries, Pe-
trarch ruled the lyric of the Renaissance as Aristotle had
swayed the thought of the Middle Ages, and the same super-
stitious veneration was paid to him. The house at Arqua
in which he died became a shrine and the relics of the poet
preserved there were gazed upon with a reverence that, to
modern eyes, appears ridiculous.^
In one of the sonnets to his friend, Shakespeare asserts in
a splendid phrase, "My spirit is thine, the better part of me" ;
unfortunately the spirit of Petrarch did not descend upon
his followers. His love for Laura had lasted half a century
and there were of necessity many times when he wrote, not
because he was a lover, but because he loved to write. In
such uninspired moments he delighted in personifications, in
allegories that seemed subtle to his followers but which to us
are the essence of false wit ; he took pleasure in stringing
together what seemed to him ingenious antitheses and para-
doxes ; and he even descended to play upon words, to puns on
Laura, lauro, I'aura ! If it is true that Homer cccasionaUy
nods, it is equally certain that Petrarch at times falls into
a sound slumber. This essentially false style arises from an
attempt to elevate by sheer force of ingenuity situations
that do not deserve poetic treatment, or thoughts that are
1 A. Graf., Attraverso il Cinquecento, Torino, 1888, pp. 39-44.
THE TUDOR LYRIC 107
so trivial that there is no reason for expressing them.
Petrarch tells us in the sonnet beginning "Del mar Tirreno
alia sinistra riva," that while walking alone he fell into a
brook which the tall grass had hidden. If such an episode
is to be treated at all in verse, it should be in the spirit of
comedy ; Petrarch approaches it with high seriousness. "At
last," he observes, "I have changed my style. Formerly my
eyes were bathed in tears for Laura — now my feet are wet."
There is so much of this essentially insincere work in the
Canzoniere that there is need of separating the good from
the banal, as Matthew Arnold did with Wordsworth's
poetry. This discrimination the followers of Petrarch
could not exercise; they could not take the gold and leave
the alloy, and as nothing is easier than to collect antitheses,
or to invent allegories, or to talk vaguely of ideal beauty,
they chose to imitate the poorer part of his work. Genius is
inimitable but unfortunately the mannerisms and the weak-
nesses of genius may be copied; hence it is that for two
centuries the Italian lyrists, feigning a hopeless love, a lofty
Platonic adoration of beauty, repeated in borrowed accents
Petrarch's praise of Laura, his lamentations over her cruelty,
his longing for death. The virtue of the Petrarchists was a
certain grace of expression, for even the feeblest imitator
had his musical moments; their vice was the deadliest of all
poetic vices — insincerity. They produced literally hundreds
of sonnets crying out on the woes of life and invoking death,
but the sixteen lines of Leopardi's A se stesso have more
truth than all their quatorzains put together.
The followers of Petrarch were a mighty legion. No one
has ever presumed to read and appraise their interminable
sonnet sequences ; Vaganay's compendious survey of the field
is not a complete one.^ The smallest towns had their
sonneteers. Apparently in the sixteenth century every
1 H. Vaganay, Le Sonnet en Italie et en France an XVIme sUcle,
Lyon, 1903. Cf. Flamini, // Cinquecento, Milano, p. 203.
108 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
Italian pretending to culture composed sonnets, even though
he did not publish them, and unfortunately to do this was
no more an indication of poetic ability than a college degree
to-day is a proof of refinement. In 154i6 and 1547 Domen-
ichi brought out two volumes of Ritne Diverse di molti
eccelentissimi auttori, a collection completed in nine volumes
in 1560; in these first two, there were represented one hun-
dred and thirty-seven authors who contributed some nine
hundred and fifty sonnets, and this was but one of many
anthologies. The ease with which sixteenth century sonnet
collections may be purchased in Italy strikingly indicates
in what vast quantities they were issued from the press.
Side by side with the sonnets there were pubhshed a large
number of essays and dialogues on the nature of love.
Bembo's Asolani (1505), reprinted again and again, inspired
a whole hterature and we have Plato's conception of love,
as expounded in the Phcedrus and the Symposium and modi-
fied by the teaching of the early Church fathers, repeated in
essays, dialogues, lectures, commentaries on poems, familiar
letters, until we wonder how readers could be found for them.
The one idea on which they ring the changes is that the con-
templation of earthly beauty raises us to a vision of heavenly
perfection, hence love is the golden stair from the earth to
the skies. This doctrine, unfolded at times with real learn-
ing but more often with ofBcious pedantry, supported by
copious citations from the classics and from the writings of
the Church, sanctioned with the utmost gravity that delight
which the age took in Petrarch's sonnets. Frequently these
treatises cite Petrarch as the past master of love and, without
the slightest doubt, they increased the vogue of his school.
But this lofty conception of love as a veritable means of
grace, this high conception of the mission of beauty, was m
reality as insincere and as remote from the real beliefs of
the age as were the lamentations of the Petrarchists. A
single illustration of this must suffice, though many could
THE TUDOR LYRIC 109
be given. Tullia of Aragon, famous for her amours, pub-
lished her dialogue Dell' infinita d'Amore in 154<7, the very
year the authorities of Florence took action against her for
not wearing the head-dress prescribed by law for courtesans.
The more the love literature of the sixteenth century, both
prose and verse, is studied, the greater appears its con-
ventionality.
The Petrarchian school of poetry was not confined to its
own home. Fran9ois I, a lover of art and poetry, had been
captivated by the beauty and the splendor of the South.
His victory at Marignano is more important for the history
of culture than for its political consequences; and under
this king, "the father of letters," France became an artistic
and literary province of Italy. He brought to his own
country the art and poetry he had enjoyed under Italian
skies ; and a veritable band of Tuscan artists and poets came
to Fontainebleau and Paris where they found in the king
the most generous of patrons. Fontainebleau became a
magnificent Italian palace for which, in the words of Varchi,
Batista della Palla had "robbed Florence of as many statues
and paintings as he could," and it is not surprising
that a king who had brought to France Benvenuto Cellini
and Andrea del Sarto, "delighted marvelously in them."
Italian became the court language, and the king and his
sister, who knew it perfectly, wished to place it on an equality
with their own tongue; in his memoirs Cellini frequently
notes that this or that French nobleman spoke Italian
"benissimo."^
In this atmosphere the verses of Petrarch and his fol-
lowers were read and imitated; in literary circles at least,
the lamentations over Laura were as well known on the
banks of the Seine as on the Arno. Nor did this predilection
for Italian literature content itself with reading the works
1 See F. Flamini, 8tudi di Storia Letteraria Italiana e Straniera,
Livorno, 1895, pp. 199-337; Varia, pp. 193-317.
no ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
of former poets; for Luigi Alamanni and other Italian
writers composed and published their sonnets and canzoni
on French soil. Naturally this admiration for Italian verse
is reflected in the writings of the French poets ; to take two
such different natures as Clement Marot and Melin de Saint-
Gelais, we find them both imitating or translating the most
famous of the Italians, Petrarch and Serafino, Tebaldeo and
Sannazzaro. To come under the spell of Italian culture, to
be inspired by its art and poetry. Englishmen needed to
cross not the Alps but the Channel.
II
We have dwelt on the Italian school because of its influence
on the English lyric, both directly and through the medium
of the French. This subject deserves the most extended
treatment, for it off'ers the student of comparative literature
a fascinating field only partially surveyed; but before we
consider the foreign element in EngHsh song, we must
glance for a moment at the continuation of the native lyric
tradition.
The reign of Henry VIII opened so auspiciously that
Erasmus believed the Golden Age had returned. In the
universities the new learning flourished; at the court several
poets and a small band of composers enjoyed the king's
favor (for he was himself a writer and a musician), and
aroused the artistic consciousness of the higher classes.
Erasmus, a keen judge, notes that the English were the
most musical nation, a testimony confirmed by other for-
eigners. Particularly in courtly circles was musical accom-
plishment prized ; the choir of the royal chapel was renowned
far and wide. The king's musical efi'orts are not highly
regarded to-day ; of his poetry we can at least say that he
was never destined for the laurel, and in all his many
alliances, never wedded to the Muse.
THE TUDOR LYRIC 111
" Pastime with good company
I love and shall, until I die.
Grudge who lust, but none deny.
So God be pleased, thus live will I.
For my pastance.
Hunt, sing and dance.
My heart is set.
All goodly sport
For my comfort
Who shall me let?"i
he writes, or in a more sentimental strain in which he should
be a master
" Do way, dear heart, not so !
Let no thought you dismay.
Though ye now part me fro.
We shall meet when we may.
" When I remember me
Of your most gentle mind,
It may in no wise agree
That I should be unkind.
" The daisy delectable.
The violet wan and bio, (pale)
Ye are not variable.
I love you and no moe."^
It must have been diiScult, even for a courtier, to discover
inspiration in these lines, but they are interesting because
they show the king setting a fashion in lyrical composition
and we are not surprised to find the manuscript collections
of lyrics becoming more and more numerous.
^ Early English Lyrics, p. 213. Cf. E. Flugel, Neuenglisches Lese-
buch, p. 146. This book contains an excellent selection of lyrics of this
period. This, and the following song, are printed in modern notation in
Vincent Jackson's English Melodies from the 13th to the 18th Century,
London, 1910, pp. 17, 18.
^ Early English Lyrics, p. 55.
112 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
In general the language of these lyrics is more refined
than that of the songs of the previous century, yet we have
the same simplicity of thought and emotion and we find the
same ideas constantly repeated. A few examples must
sufBce :
" 'Come over the woodes fair and green.
Thou goodly maid, thou lusty wench.
To shadow you from the sunne sheen.
Under the wood there is a bench.'
'Sir, I pray you, do none offence
To me, a maid, this I make my moan.
But as I came let me go hence.
For I am here myself alone.'
" 'The custom and the manner here
Of maidens is, and ever was.
That gather the flowers without a fere, (companion)
To pay a trepitt, or they pass.' (fine)
'Then of my mouth come take a bass; (kiss)
For other goodes have I none
But flowers fair among the grass
Which I have gathered all alone.' "
Here we have a duo between the lover and his lass as in the
early Harleian MS. 2253. The songs in praise of May and
the spring are as popular as ever:
" Awake therefore, young men.
All ye that lovers be, hey ho !
This month of May,
So fresh, so gay.
So fair be fields on fen;
Hath flourish ilk again.
Great joy it is to see, hey ho!
Then dyry come dawn, dyry come dyry, come dyry!
Come dyry, come dyry, come dawn, hey ho !"^
iPp. 64, 71.
THE TUDOR LYRIC 113
Many of the early sixteenth century love songs are abso-
lutely charming:
" My hearty my mind, and my whole power,
My service true with all my might.
On land or sea, in storm or shower,
I give to you be day and night.
And eke my body for to fight.
My goods also be at your pleasure.
Take me and mine as your own treasure."^
The following ditty is a typical one, well fitted for music :
" My heart is yours, now keep it fast.
Without your favour, my joy is past;
I will not change while my life do last,
I promise you, I promise you.
" I joy in that I have your grace,
I moan when pity lacks his place.
Thus resteth all in your sweet face,
I promise you.
" You are my wealth, I am your woe,
I think on you where ever I go,
I love you heartily and no mo,
I promise you."
The songs in praise of beauty are innumerable and not all
of them portray a hopeless love :
" To laugh, to smile, to sport, to play,
I will not let the truth to say.
And be as jocund as the jay.
For aye, for aye.
1 From Bassua, a, book of twenty songs, printed in 1530 by Wynkyn
de Worde. As the name indicates, it contains merely the music for the
bass. It has been reprinted in Anglia, XII, pp. 589 ff.
m ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" My heart is locked within a chest,
In keeping with her whom I love best.
It may be glad to have such rest,
And there to lie, to lie.
" Her face so sweet for to behold.
Her hair as bright as the wire gold.
Another thing there should be told.
Her yee, her yee.
" Which twinkleth clear as the diamond pure.
And hath welcomed me to the lure.
To serve her still while life doth endure.
Will I, will I."
The lilt of the following song is irresistible :
" My little pretty one, my pretty bonnie one.
She is a joyous one, and as gentle as can be;
With a beck she comes anon.
With a wink she will be gone.
No doubt she is a love of all that ever I see."
The refrain becomes more and more a feature :
" Of beauty yet she passeth all.
Which hath mine heart and ever shall.
To live or die what so befall,
What would she more, what would she more.
" She is so fixed in my heart
That for her sake I bide great smart.
Yet can not I my love depart.
What would she more, what would she more.
" Long have I lived in great distress,
Long have I sought to have redress.
Long hath she been mine own mistress.
What would she more, what would she more."^
1 From Additional MS. 18753. I have reprinted the songs in this MS.
in Anglia XXXIII, pp. 344-367.
THE TUDOR LYRIC 115
It is indeed difficult to make selections from the anony-
mous lyrics of the early sixteenth century because there is
such a large body of them, and an interesting anthology
could be made of the songs of this period alone. Without
the slightest doubt much remains to be discovered and pub-
lished; but whatever new manuscripts may be brought to
light, it seems safe to predict that the poems they contain
will be composed in a few simple metres, with no attempt
at a heightened or even polished diction, expressing in a
direct and simple manner the joys of Spring, the praise of
beauty, or the complaints of despised love.
The lyrical element in the Moralities and Interludes of the
age is prominent, as it was in the Mysteries. As we find in
the love songs the earlier traditions of simple emotions
untouched by imagination, so in the dramatic entertain-
ments the songs continue the themes of the former age.
Unfortunately many of them are not included in the printed
texts which contain, however, frequent references to the
lyrics, written for one voice or for several. Thus in The
Four P's, printed about 154<0, the Pothecary asks the Pedlar
"I pray you tell me, can you sing.'"' to which he replies, "Sir,
I have some sight in singing," and after some further con-
versation with the Palmer and Pardoner on the subject of
their musical ability, the Pothecary exclaims, "Who that
hst, sing after me," but the song is not given.^ The ones
that have been preserved do not compare with the songs in
the manuscript collections, for the dramatic lyric developed
more slowly, as we may easily see by examining the songs in
Dodsley's Old English Plays, for example ; nevertheless they
are deserving of study because they lead directly to the songs
of the Elizabethan dramatists.
The most popular song in these early plays appears to be
IW. C. Hazlitt-R. Dodsley, A Select Collection of Old English
Plays, 4,th ed, London, 1874, vol. I, p. 353.
116 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
the drinking song. Sensual Appetite sings one in the inter-
lude of the Four Elements (cir. 1518) :
" Make rome, syrs, and let us be mery.
With hufFa galandj synge tyrU on the bery,
And let the wyde worlde wynde !
Synge fryska joly, with hey troly loly.
For I se wel it is but a foly
For to have a sad mynd:"'^
Dissimulation, in Bale's King John (1550?), has this boister-
ous tavern ditty :
" Wassayle, wassayle^ out of the mylke payle,
Wassayle^ wassayle, as whyte as my nayle,
Wassalye, wassayle, in snowe froste and hayle,
Wassayle, wassayle, with partriche and rayle,
Wassayle, wassayle, that muche doth avale,
Wassayle, wassayle, that never wyll fale."^
We come to the reign of Elizabeth in Fulwell's Like will to
Like (printed 1563), which has seven songs, of which "Good
hostess, lay a crab in the fire" is the continuation of the
roistering theme :
" And I will pledge Tom Toss-pot,
Till I be drunk as a mouse-a:
Whoso will drink to me all day,
I will pledge them all carouse-a."'
In Elizabeth's reign these songs culminate in the famous
toper's song in Gammer Gurton's Needle (1575), which is
1 Pollard, op. cit., p. 101.
2 P. ISO.
3 Hazlitt-Dodsley, vol. Ill, p. 339.
THE TUDOR LYRIC 117
perhaps the finest example of these roistering ditties ; cer-
tainly no other song has a more rollicking swing :
" Back and side go bare, go bare,
Both foot and hand go cold:
But, belly, God send thee good ale enough.
Whether it be new or old.
" I love no roast but a nut-brown toast.
And a crab laid in the fire.
A little bread shall do me stead.
Much bread I not desire.
No frost nor snow, no wind, I trow.
Can hurt me if I would;
I am so wrapt, and thoroughly lapt.
Of jolly good ale and old."'^
Lusty Jwventus (cir. 1550) contains two songs, in a
simple metre ; they are the most poetical ones to be found
in all these early interludes. The first is sung by Youth :
" In a herber green, asleep where as I lay.
The birds sang sweet in the middes of the day;
I dreamed fast of mirth and play:
In youth is pleasure, in youth is pleasure."
The other is sung by Hypocrisy and Abominable Living:
" Do not the flowers spring fresh and gay.
Pleasant and sweet in the month of May?
And when their time cometh they fade away.
Report me to you, report me to you."^
These are not masterpieces. The dramatic lyric had not felb
the breath of the new poetry, and it awaited the Eliza-
iP. 189.
2 Vol. II, pp. 46, 89.
118 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
bethans to make it one of the crowning beauties of our litera-
ture.
Ill
The new impulse in the English lyric came from the songs
of Wyatt and Surrey. In his Arte of English Poesie (1589),
George Puttenham wrote: "In the latter end of the same
King's [Henry the Eighth] raigne sprong up a new com-
pany of courtly makers, of whom Sir Thomas Wyat th'elder
and Henry Earle of Surrey were the two chieftanes, who
having travailed into Italie, and there tasted the swete and
stately measures and stile of the Italian Poesie as novices
newly crept out of the schools of Dante, Arioste and
Petrarch, they greatly poUished our rude and homely maner
of vulgar Poesie, from that it had been before, and for that
cause may justly be sayd the first reformers of our English
meetre and stile." This statement of the EHzabethan critic
modern scholarship confirms and even emphasizes more
strongly.
Sir Thomas Wyatt (1503-1542) was a graduate of Cam-
bridge, an excellent linguist well versed in French, Itahan,
and Spanish, and a skilled musician. Not only was he repre-
sentative of all that was best in the culture of the age, but
he was a man of force and action, as we may see from the
vigorous speech by which he freed himself from the generally
fatal charge of treason. It is small wonder that he was
selected by the king for important diplomatic missions and
that his career was a political one. Poetry was his recreation
and solace, for he was not in our modern sense a man of
letters ; and in estimating his achievement we must remember
as well that his life was cut short when he was but thirty-
nine. In 1526 he was a member of a diplomatic mission to
Paris and it is possible that he met at this time Luigi
Alamanni, one of whose satires he imitated in the last years
THE TUDOR LYRIC 119
of his life. Wyatt was attracted by French poetry ; several
of his poems show unmistakably French influence, and it is
probable that he learned from Marot, whose works he knew,
the rondeau form. The following year he was sent to Rome
and in the course of his travels he visited Venice, Ferrara,
Bologna, and Florence, all literary centers. It is not too
much to assert that this journey, undertaken for matters
of state, changed the history of the English lyric. Wyatt's
tastes were literary; he was gifted with a strong poetical
temperament; he was devoted to music. When he heard
sung under the warm skies of Italy the sonnets of Petrarch
and his followers, the strambotti of that brilliant musician
and improvisatore, Serafino dell' Aquila, the idol of his time,
he discovered a world of music and poetry that differed from
his native songs as a Venetian sunrise from the fogs and
mists of London.^ It takes but little imagination to perceive
the enthusiasm that the Italian lyric awakened in him and it
was inevitable that he should find in its songs the inspiration
for his own verse. What Italy has given to the world would
be a subject as inexhaustible as the long-drawn-out lamenta-
tions of the Petrarchists, but what she gave to Wyatt can
be expressed in a sentence or two. The wonderful Italian
landscapes, the glories of the Renaissance sculpture, paint-
ing, and architecture he does not allude to, for he sought but
one thing- — the gift of song. He knew that the English lyric
was crude and halting in its diction; the Muse stammered
when she should sing; and he turned to those verse forms in
which the Italians had attained such harmonies — the terza
and ottava rima, and above all the sonnet.
The sonnet is the most important, as it is the most perfect,
of all modern lyric forms and had Italy done nothing more
than to give it to the world, she would have been held in
perpetual remembrance. Without attempting to be over-
1 Flamini, Varia, pp. 169-190, has given a brief but vivid account of
Seraflno.
no ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
subtle, we may believe that through some law of sound and
harmony the sonnet form exactly satisfies the ear as it does
the mind, for it has become almost a universal metre; cer-
tainly every nation in Western Europe has employed it. On
the other hand, our Enghsh blank verse is not poetry to the
French ear and the present-day writers who have tried to
bring it across the channel have met with no success. To
take another example, the Spenserian stanza is distinctly
an English metre; but the sonnet is a world form.
The Italians divided its fourteen lines into octave and
sestet. In the first eight lines a thought, an emotion, a
picture is completely presented and the verse sentence, so to
speak, comes to an end ; while in the last six lines, the expla-
nation, the comment, the summing up of the whole matter
is given. As Watts-Dunton has well expressed it, the sonnet
is a wave of melody rising in the octave to sink in the sestet,
or receding in the octave, to rise and fall with a crash in the
sestet. The wonderful variety, the almost endless effects that
have been obtained from the sonnet's fourteen lines are as
marvelous, though in a lesser degree, as the music that has
sprung from the simple tones of the scale.^
In literary history, then, Wyatt is famous as the first
Englishman to write in the sonnet form, but it is a curious
fact that not one of his thirty-two sonnets follows strictly
the usual Italian rhyme scheme ; his octaves may be correctly
written but he ends his sestet with a couplet. Not one of
them would be included in a collection of representative Eng-
lish sonnets except to illustrate the history and the develop-
ment of the form. Though much work yet remains to be
done on the sources of his verse, nearly one half of his son-
nets have been shown to be adaptations or translations. As
a translator he showed little skill, for his versions of Pet-
rarch are both clumsy and crude and the English language
1 Cf. G. Saintsbury, A History of English Prosody, London, 1906,
vol. I, pp. 303 ff.
THE TUDOR LYRIC 121
seems to him to be a difficult and unflexible medium of
expression. Nothing could be further from Petrarch than
the following rendering of "Amor, che nel penser mio vive
e regna":
" The long love that in my thought I harbour.
And in my heart doth keep his residence.
Into my face presseth with bold pretence.
And there campeth displaying his banner.
She that me learns to love and to suffer.
And wills that my trust, and lust's negligence
Be reined by reason, shame, and reverence.
With his hardiness takes displeasure.
Wherewith Love to the heart's forest he fleeth.
Leaving his enterprise with pain and cry,
And there him hideth, and not appeareth.
What may I do, when my master feareth.
But in the field with him to live and die?
For good is the life, ending faithfully."^
This is not Wyatt at his best ; such lines are plainly an
early attempt at composition, for both the rhythm and the
rhyme are strangely defective, yet hardly one of Wyatt's
sonnets can be read with much pleasure.^ His translations
of Petrarch's canzoni are equally unsatisfactory. The one
commencing "Quel antiquo mio dolce empio signore" was not
composed in Petrarch's inspired moments, but it has his
style, and rises and falls melodiously. Wyatt is utterly
unable to reproduce this free movement and forces the poem
1 The Poetical Works of Sir Thomas Wyatt, London, Aldlne edition,
p. 1.
2 A much better sonnet is:
" Ye that in love find luck and sweet abundance.
And live in lust of joyful joUlty,
Arise for shame, do way your sluggardy:
Arise, I say, do May some observance." p. 5.
122 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
into a new mould, his favorite rhyme royal. The canzone
beginning "Si e debile il filo" has this graceful envoy:
" Canzon, s'al dolce loco
La donna nostra vedi.
Credo ben che tu credi
Ch'ella ti porgera la bella mano
Ond' io son si lontano:
Non la toccar; ma reverente ai piedi
Le di' ch' io saro la tosto ch'io possa,
O spirto ignudo od uom di carne e d'ossa."
This becomes, under Wyatt's pen:
" My song ! thou shalt attain to find that pleasant place,
Where she doth live by whom I live; may chance to have this
grace.
When she hath read, and seen the grief wherein I serve,
Between her breasts she shall thee put, there shall she thee
reserve :
Then tell her that I come, she shall me shortly see.
And if for weight the body fail, the soul shall to her flee."'
which is not only poor poetry, but a very poor translation.
Wyatt clearly felt the lack of style and finish in the Enghsh
lyric, for all through his poetry he seems to be experimenting
in metres, of which he employs a large number. He has left
one hundred and eighty-two lyrics and he has used in them
fifteen distinct types of the single line, such as the pentam-
eter, the trimeter, the dimeter, and by various combinations
of these lines he has obtained great variety of stanza forms.
These essays in metre we may regard as the result of his
study of the Italian and the French lyric, for whereas
hitherto English song had been satisfied with a few simple
stanzas Wyatt wishes a richer mode of expression.
Wyatt's translations are not happy in their subject
matter. His admiration for Petrarch is unquestioned ; when
1 See Wyatt's poem beginning "So feeble is the thread," p. 154.
THE TUDOR LYRIC 123
he mourns the death of his friend Cromwell nothing seems
to him so fitting as to adapt for the occasion Petrarch's
sonnet on the death of Colonna, yet he selects for para-
phrase or imitation the poorer part of the Canzoniere. The
veriest tyro would recognize to-day that in "Chiare, fresche
e dolci acque" we have the flower of Petrarch's song, but as
we have seen, he passes over this for two much inferior can-
zoni. The sonnet we have quoted is in Petrarch's worst style,
as are two others that Wyatt turned into EngHsh, "My
galley charged with forgetfulness," a string of conceits, and
"I find no peace," a collection of antitheses. It cannot be
said that he has selected the best work of Tebaldeo, Giusto
de' Conti, Serafino, Sannazzaro; and his subject-matter is
most satisfactory when he continues the traditions of
English song, employing a surer, a more straightforward
style than the elder writers used.
On the whole, Wyatt chose to write of unhappy love.
"Sonnets be not bound 'prentice to Annoy," wrote Sir Philip
Sidney sententiously, but the Petrarchists thought otherwise
and Wyatt followed them, not alone in direct translation,
but in the general tone of his verse. His lyrics, almost
exclusively on the theme of love, lack what Donne has called
"Love's sweetest part — variety." Wyatt himself remarked
that his verse had "plenty of plaint, woe and mourning,"
and the reader tires of "The Lover complaineth," "The
Lover lamenteth," "The Lover bemoaneth." Any classifi-
cation of his poems by their contents is difficult because the
same song may express both joy and despair, but from their
general tenor, fourteen poems describe his renunciation of
love, twenty-one picture the fickleness of womankind, and
forty-nine express the pains of love. For the most part we
may believe these songs to be mere imitations, conventional
expressions, for so many of them lack the ring of sincerity ;
they do not read as though they came from the poet's hfe,
and therefore Wyatt's poetry, as a whole, fails to impress
12^ ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
itself deeply on the reader's mind. With the exception of
certain poems which we shall mention, few of his songs, or
even phrases, linger in the memory and he is not one of those
writers to whom we return again and again. So far as their
aesthetic worth is concerned, it would make no difference
whether the best of Shakespeare's sonnets were composed in
the sixteenth or the nineteenth century for they are absolute
works of art, independent of considerations of age and
country ; we feel in reading Wyatt that much of his verse
is valuable chiefly as illustrating the beginnings of the
modern English lyric.
When he is not openly translating or imitating foreign
verse, his style is plain and unadorned. He uses few similes,
few adjectives of color; there is little pictorial quahty in his
work, for he did not have the power to bring before the
reader in a vivid line, a garden, or a sunset, or to show us,
in a single phrase, a whole landscape. The picture in the
following stanza is so unusual in his writings that I suspect
it to be a translation:
" Thanked be Fortmie, it hath been otherwise
Twenty times better; but once especial.
In thin array, after a pleasant guise,
When her loose gown did from her shoulders fall,
And she me caught in her arms long and small.
And therewithal so sweetly did me kiss.
And softly said 'Dear heart, how like you this ?' "
especially so if we compare it with the following description
from a poem which seems to be original :
" She wept and wrung her hands withal.
The tears fell in my neck:
She turned her face, and let it fall;
And scarce therewith could speak:
Alas ! the while !"^
1 See "They flee from me" and "There was never nothing," pp. 33, 57.
THE TUDOR LYRIC 126
Wyatt has left a small group of poems worthy of the
highest praise. His "My lute, awake" has a grace which he
may have learned from the Petrarchists, but a dignity which
removes it from their complaints:
" May chance thee lie withered and old
The winter nights^ that are so cold.
Plaining in vain unto the moon;
Thy wishes then dare not be told:
Care then who list, for I have done.
" Now cease, my lute ! this is the last
Labour, that thou and I shall waste;
And ended is that we begun :
Now is this song both sung and past;
My lute ! be still, for I have done."^
Equally effective, and perfectly adapted for music, is his
song:
" And wilt thou leave me thus ?
Say nay ! say nay ! for shame
To save thee from the blame
Of all my grief and grame. (sorrow)
And wilt thou leave me thus?
Say nay ! say nay !"^
His masterpiece, "Forget not yet," is one of the finest
lyrics in our language, the simple and direct expression of
a great passion. The reader accustomed to the more highly
colored style of modern romantic verse must not be misled
by the monosyllabic diction, for it is the language of an
overpowering emotion:
" Forget not yet the tried intent
Of such a truth as I have meant;
My great travail so gladly spent,
Forget not yet !
iP. 30.
2 P. 108.
im ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" Forget not yet the great assays,
The cruel wrong, the scornful ways.
The painful patience in delays.
Forget not yet !"^
Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey (1518-1547), a grandson
of Edward IV, was a courtier and a soldier. He was finely
educated; he had passed a year at the French court; and
though he never saw Italy, he knew the poetry of the Pe-
trarchian school. Haughty, impetuous, daring, he was one
of the last victims of Henry VIII and was executed on a
false charge of treason. The tragedy of his early death
excited the pity of the age and he became in Nashe's tale of
Jach Wilton (1594) a purely legendary hero, breaking
lances in Italy and seeing in a magic stone the image of his
mistress in England, a myth which Scott used in the Lay of
the Last Minstrel.
In discussing the writings of Wyatt and Surrey, Putten-
ham states that their "conceits were loftie, their stiles stately,
their conveyance cleanely, their terms proper, their meetre
sweete and well proportioned, in all imitating very naturally
and studiously their Maistre Francis Petrarcha," and that
he can find very little difference between them.^ The differ-
ence in their natures, however, is not hard to detect and it
is clearly suggested if we place their portraits side by side,
though remembering the Droeshout Shakespeare, we must not
rely too confidently on such a comparison. Wyatt, unos-
tentatiously dressed, gazes at us with a straightforward,
vigorous, yet sad expression ; Surrey, in court costume, with
ip. 123.
Apart from the poems we have cited, the reader will find the following
well worthy of study: "Help me to seek" (his best rondeau); "Disdain
me not"; "Since love will needs"; "Blame not my lute"; "What should
I say"; "A face that should content me"; "Tagus, farewell."
2 ToUel's Miscellany, Arber's reprint, p. xiii.
THE TUDOR LYRIC 127
more delicate, aristocratic features, betrays in his look and
carriage a certain haughty consciousness of rank. This
difference of temperament is reflected in their poetry, for if
Wyatt's verse has more fervor, Surrey's is more refined,
more polished. In a word, Wyatt has the stronger poetic
nature while Surrey is the better artist. This distinction
must be explained at more length.
Surrey has left a much smaller body of verse than did
Wyatt, for he was a more fastidious writer. He admired
his contemporary; there was no rivalry between them; and
in a poem written on Wyatt's death he praises him in these
terms :
" A hand, that taught what might be said in rhyme !
That reft Chaucer the glory of his wit:
A mark, the which (unparfited, for time)
Some may approach, but never none shall hit,"^
yet in the matter of style and finish Wyatt is inferior to
Surrey, who employed fewer metres and used them to much
better advantage. It will be noticed that in the sonnet of
Wyatt's which we have quoted the accent is constantly
wrenched, that is, the common prose accentuation of a word
is changed for the sake of the metrical stress. A good
example of this is
" And there campeth displaying his banner."
Surrey avoids this fault in his translation of the same sonnet :
" Love, that doth reign and live within my thought,
And built his seat within my captive breast,
Clad in the arms wherein with me he fought,
Oft in my face he doth his banner rest.
1 P. 29. In addition to this poem on Wyatt's death, Surrey wrote two
sonnets in praise of him.
128 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" But she that taught me love and suffer pain^
My doubtful hope and eke my hot desire
With shamefaced look to shadow and refrain.
Her smiling grace converteth straight to ire.
" And coward Love, then, to the heart apace
Taketh his flight, where he doth lurk and plain
His purpose lost, and dare not show his face.
For my lord's guilt thus faultless bide I pain."^
Metrically this is a great advance, not only in the manner
of accentuation but also in the careful avoidance of asson-
ance, for Surrey, unlike Wyatt, refuses to consider "fleeth"
and "appeareth," "banner" and "suffer," as rhymes. It is
then as a refiner of English poetry that Surrey made his
great reputation and for those times he seemed a perfect
master of style. The sixteenth century poets delighted in
recommending as a rule of conduct the golden mean —
probably because they so rarely observed it — and they have
left a whole group of poems on this subject, to which belongs
Surrey's translation of Martial's Ad Seipsum. The con-
cluding lines of one of its stanzas show the balanced sen-
tence, reminding us of the more polished work of the age of
Pope:
" Martial, the things that do attain
The happy life, be these I find:
The riches left, not got with pain.
The fruitful ground, the quiet mind."^
The judgment of a man's contemporaries is not always
a safe verdict to follow, yet Turberville, in the succeeding
1 This is not the version ordinarily printed in editions of Surrey.
See F. M. Padelford, Early Sixteenth Century Lyrics, Boston, 1907, p. L.
2 The Poems of Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey, London, Aldine
edition, p. 56.
THE TUDOR LYRIC 129
generation, well summed up the opinion of the time in regard
to Surrey :
" Each word in place with such a sleight is couched^
Each thing whereof he treats, so firmly touched,
As Pallas seemed within his noble breast
To have sojourned, and been a daily guest.
Our mother tongue by him hath got such light.
As ruder speech thereby is banished quite."^
There is another important consideration in regard to
his style. It will be noticed that in Surrey's translation of
Petrarch's sonnet, he does not employ the Italian sonnet
form but a new one, which he devised — three quatrains and
a concluding couplet — a form which was so splendidly used
by Shakespeare that it bears his name, though it should of
right be called, not the Shakespearean but the Surreyan son-
net. There have been many interesting discussions as to the
comparative artistic values of the ItaKan rhyme scheme and
the form used by Surrey.^ Not only is the musical effect of
these two forms entirely different, but in the English sonnet
there is not of necessity that marked division of the octave
and the sestet, and this implies a difference in the treatment
of the subject-matter.' We may be sure that no deep,
artistic considerations led the sixteenth century poets to
prefer the Surreyan to the Italian form; they adopted it
because, as one may see by simple experiment, it is a much
easier and more fluent means of expression, and fluency the
Elizabethans prized most highly. That Shakespeare never
1 Verse in Praise of Lord Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey, Chalmers,
The Works of the English Poets, vol. II, p. 588.
2 See W. Sharp, Sonnets of this Century, London, N. D., introduction;
also Century Magazine, vol. LXXVI, p. 503.
3 It is of course possible to observe the octave and sestet in the
Shakespearean sonnet, as may be seen in When in disgrace with fortune
and men's eyes.
ISO ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
blotted a line is his greatest praise. Ben Jonson, taunted
that he took fifteen weeks to compose his play The Poetaster,
replies that he composed Volpone, an acknowledged master-
piece, in five. The Elizabethans wrote rapidly because their
manner of living demanded it. They could not spend days
in searching for le mot precis, in putting together some
highly wrought word mosaic, for their hours were too
crowded ; they lived intensely, and their designs and ambi-
tions were large. Spenser's Faerie Queene is but a small
fragment of the projected work. The age, then, found
Surrey's sonnet form, because of its more simple rhyme
scheme, a readier instrument of song than Petrarch's. If
Wyatt brought the sonnet to England, Surrey equalled
his achievement by giving to it a new form, surely as great
a claim to remembrance as the fact that he was the first
Englishman to write blank verse.
In the subject-matter of his verse, Surrey shows the all-
powerful influence of Petrarch. In his translations and
adaptations from the Canzoniere he chose, on the whole,
much better poems than did Wyatt. We may refer also to
the influence of the Italian school Surrey's sonnets to the
Lady Geraldine, courtly compliments to a child that are no
more to be considered serious expressions of feeling than are
the effusions of Petrarch's followers.^ His debt to the ItaHan
poets is a considerable one ; if he has not translated as freely
from them as did Wyatt, in his style and in the general
spirit of his verse we feel their influence. In spite of this
fact, the subject-matter of his finest poem is all his own. His
most sustained piece of writing is the poem describing his
imprisonment at Windsor and lamenting the death of his
brother-in-law, the Earl of Richmond. It is an elegy filled
with picturesque details of their happy life together, in
1 Only two sonnets, "From Tuscan came" and "The golden gift," can
with any certainty be said to refer to her.
THE TUDOR LYRIC 131
The large green courts^ where we were wont to hove, (hover)
With eyes cast up into the Maiden's tower,
And easy sighs, such as folk draw in love.
The stately seats, the ladies bright of hue.
The dances short, long tales of great delight;
With words and looks that tigers could but rew ;
Where each of us did plead the other's right.
The secret groves, which oft we made resound
Of pleasant plaint, and of our ladies' praise;
Recording oft what grace each one had found,
What hope of speed, what dread of long delays.
The wild forest, the clothed holts with green;
With reins availed, the swift y-breathed horse.
With cry of hounds, and merry blasts between.
Where we did chase the fearful hart of force."^
This is no conventional list of passed pleasures ; every line
is the actual living over again of happier days and the poem
is one of the first elegies in our language in which a man
recites his grief, using not allegory or biblical phrase, but the
remembrance of definite events and of petty details to accen-
tuate his sorrow.
The technique of this verse is good and Surrey is equally
master of a lighter style; the tripping movement of the fol-
lowing lines clearly foretells the measures of the Elizabethan
song writers :
" Give place, ye lovers, here before
That spent your boasts and brags in vain;
My lady's beauty passeth more
The best of yours, I dare well sayen.
Than doth the sun the candle light.
Or brightest day the darkest night."^
1 From So cruel prison how could betide, alas, Aldine edition, p. 19.
2 P. 31. Equally good is "When raging love,'' p. 31.
132 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
Even in his elegy Surrey does not reach that intensity of
feeUng that gives such power to Wyatt's "Forget not yet,"
but his part in the development of the lyric is greater than
Wyatt's because his style was a better one. In leaving these
two poets we cannot do better than to quote the pithy couplet
of the EHzabethan publisher, Richard Smith :
" Sweet Surrey sucked Parnassus springs.
And Wyatt wrote of wondrous things. "'^
IV
Although the poems of Wyatt and Surrey were widely
circulated in manuscripts and imitated during their hfe
time, they were not actually published until after their death.
In 1557 Richard Tottel brought out his famous Songes and
Sonnettes written by the ryght honorable Lorde Henry
Haward late Earle of Surrey, and other, the first printed
anthology of English lyrics, generally called by the simpler
title of TotteVs Miscellany. In the history of the lyric the
publication of this book marks as distinct an epoch as did
the appearance of the Lyrical Ballads in 1798. The effect
it produced may be measured by its reception ; within two
months it ran through two editions while in thirty years,
eight editions were published, a remarkable record for those
days. Shakespeare's sonnets, brought out half a century
later when the reading public had gro;vn in numbers, were
a hundred years in reaching their third edition.
The second reprint of the Miscellany added thirty-nine
poems by undesignated authors ; taking the first and second
editions together, Tottel printed forty poems by Surrey,
ninety-six by Wyatt (somewhat more than half his verse),
forty by Nicholas Grimald, together with one hundred and
thirty anonymous poems. In Arber's reprint of Tottel,
the poems of Wyatt, Surrey, and Grimald occupy but one
hundred and twenty-three pages ; those by uncertain authors
1 Verses prefixed to the poems of George Gascoigne.
THE TUDOR LYRIC ISS
cover one hundred and forty-four and form what we may
call the school of Wyatt and Surrey, for these unknown
writers follow them in nearly every phase of their work.
Of all the poems printed by Tottel, only those by Wyatt
and Surrey have any great hterary value. Grimald has a
few naively pathetic phrases in the poem on the death of his
mother, but in general his work is tiresome and often ludi-
crous. At his best he writes :
" What sweet relief the showers to thirsty plants we see.
What dear delight the blooms to bees, my true love is to me.
As fresh and lusty vere foul winter doth exceed, (spring)
As morning bright with scarlet sky doth pass the evening's
weed.
As mellow pears above the crabs esteemed be.
So doth my love surmount them all, whom yet I hap to see;"
but this is beyond his accustomed style. If it is hardly fair
to quote from the Death of Zoroas and Ciceroes Death, terri-
fying bits of doggerel in which not only those worthies but
all poetry expired, at least the close of his Garden is charac-
teristic :
" O, what delights to us the garden ground doth bring.
Seed, leaf, flower, fruit, herb, bee and tree, and more than I
may sing."'^
The poems by uncertain authors are equally disappointing.
The sonnet is not yet a popular form, for Grimald con-
tributes but three — none of them are translations — while the
anonymous writers give us but nine in all. Of these twelve
sonnets, one follows the strict Italian rhyme scheme ;^ three
1 Arber's Tottel, pp. 96, 112.
2 P. 197. I believe this is the first English sonnet that observes the
Italian rhyme scheme, though there is no pause between the octave and
sestet. It is evidently a translation; it commences:
" For love Apollo (his godhead set aside)
Was servant to the king of Thessaly."
ISi. ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
are written in an irregular form resembling Wyatt's ; and
eight adopt Surrey's arrangement of three quatrains and a
concluding couplet, showing plainly what was to be the
structure of the Elizabethan sonnet. Though two of the
sonnets praise "Petrarch head and prince of poets all," on
the whole there is but little direct imitation of the Canzoniere
and very much of Wyatt and Surrey -^ repeating their
themes, twenty-one poems depict in utterly conventional
language the griefs of love. We look for an advance over
Wyatt and Surrey, but though at times there is a sign of
progress in an easier rhythm, on the whole the poems fall
far below their level. There are some exceptions such as
Heywood's Give place you ladies and begone:
" If all the world were sought so far.
Who could find such a wight !
Her beauty twinkleth like a star
Within the frosty night.
" Her rosial colour comes and goes
With such a comely grace;
Much ruddier, too, than doth the rose
Within her lively face."
Equally graceful is:
" Such green to me as you have sent.
Such green to you I send again;
A flowering heart that will not faint.
For dread of hope or loss of gain;
A steadfast thought all wholly bent
So that he may your grace obtain:
As you by proof have always seen.
To live your own and always green."^
1 P. 178. On p. 230 is » translation, not in sonnet form, of Petrarch's
sonnet, Era il giorno. The poem on p. 14<l has many Petrarchian pas-
sages, Imitating "Nel dolce tempo."
2 Pp. 163, 187.
THE TUDOB LYRIC 135
The aged lover renotmceth love,, by Lord Vaux, attained
great popularity; it will be remembered that the grave-
digger in Hamlet, in attempting to sing it, badly muddles
the words. A Shakespearean audience quite familiar with
the song would appreciate the humor of his travesty; the
modern play-goer misses it entirely.
Tottel's Miscellany appeared in the last years of Mary's
reign, on the very threshold of the Elizabethan era. Before
we pass to this flowering time of the lyric we pause to con-
sider what English poets had hitherto accomplished. To a
certain extent the language had been refined; a model for
verse had been found in the writings of the ItaUan and
French poets; a small number of good English lyrics had
been produced; but the English lyric was still undeveloped.
It lacked a glowing style; it needed a more musical expres-
sion; and in its content it had merely grazed the surface of
life. Certain poems of Wyatt and Surrey contradict this
statement, but they are few in number, rare exceptions.
Strangely enough there existed side by side with the trans-
lations and imitations of "Petrarch's long deceased woes,"
as Sidney called them, another body of poetry that con-
tained the very qualities the English lyric lacked. The old
EngKsh ballads were simple in their diction, swift in their
movement, and strong in their portrayal of the great crises
of human existence. They seized upon the impassioned
moments of life ; they depicted men and women swayed by
the greatest emotions ; and they stirred the hearts of those
who heard them like a trumpet call. The English lyric had
not done this. It is not a rule of lyric verse that it must
always display the deeper feelings of humanity ; many a fine
song has been written upon a simple, even a trivial fancy,
but in that case the form, the art of the expression gave to
the lyric its value. This art of adorning a slight theme, the
English poets lacked. To bring to the lyric color and form
136 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
and beauty, to breathe into it the breath of life was to be
the work and the glory of the Elizabethan age.
We began our chapter with a discussion of the Italian
lyric; we close it with a brief reference to the poetry of
France which directed and inspired so much of Elizabethan
verse. The influence of the Italian writers lasted through-
out the sixteenth century. Not only did the lesser French
poets, Melin de Saint-Gelais, Maurice Sceve, Pontus de
Tyard, De Baif , OUvier de Magny, pilfer the popular Itahan
anthologies, but even Du Bellay and Ronsard did not disdain
to copy line for line from the lesser sonneteers. Every
French schoolboy knows Du Bellay's sonnet, "Si notre vie
est moins qu'une journee" — it is as current as Gray's Elegy
with us. The poem is an almost literal translation of a
sonnet by Bernardino Daniello commencing, "Se'l viver
nostro e breve oscuro giorno."^ This instance is a typical
one. The Elizabethans were great admirers of Desportes and
plagiarized from him shamelessly. His works, first published
in 1573, pay ample tribute to the poetic supremacy of Italy;
one hundred out of the four hundred and thirty-two sonnets
in the eighth edition of his poems (1583) derive their
inspiration from the other side of the Alps.^
But French verse, inspired by Italy, had its own triumphs
and the Pleiade produced a large collection of lyrics, thor-
oughly original, that three centuries have not faded. Con-
trasted with the best sonnets of Ronsard, the quatorzains of
Wyatt and Surrey have little poetic significance ; with all
their experiments in metre, with all their seeking after refine-
ment, these fathers of our lyric verse never approached either
the grace or the music of Du Bellay's Chanson du Vanneur,
to take a typical poem. The lover of poetry returns again
1 See J. Vianey, Le Pitrarquisme en trance au XVIme siicle,
Montpellier, 1909, p. 116. This book is indispensable for a study of
Elizabethan verse.
2 P. 24.0.
THE TUDOR LYRIC 137
and again to these French writers; he reads them for their
sentiment and their charm of expression, but the Elizabethans
regarded them as models of style, the ideal to which the
EngHsh lyric must attain.
CHAPTER FOUR
The Elizabethan Lyeic
I
The reign of Elizabeth is also the reign of song, for
though we first think of that age as the blossoming time of
the drama, rarely if ever in the history of literature has there
been a period in which the lyric was so widely composed or
when it entered so deeply into the life of the times. The
Queen herself felt the lyric impulse and tried her hand at
verse making (her great rival, Mary of Scotland, wrote
French sonnets) and though Puttenham, as a faithful sub-
ject, pronounces her most characteristic ditty to be "passing
sweet and harmonical," it certainly is neither. There is no
womanly grace in these lines aiming at Mary Stuart; but
we see in them the strong mind and hand that ruled England :
" The daughter of debate
That eke discord doth sow.
Shall reap no gain where former rule
Hath taught still peace to grow.
" No foreign banished wight
Shall anchor in this port,
Our realm it brooks no strangers' force;
Let them elsewhere resort."'^
The lyric, then, became the fashion. Men courted their
mistresses in sonnets, and if they could not compose them,
employed others to write them. A well-turned copy of verses
could secure the patronage of some powerful noble and make
1 See George Puttenham, The Art of English Poesy, reprinted by
Arber, London, 1869, p. 354. Cf. E. Fliigel, Oedichte der Konigin Eliza-
beth, Anglia, XIV, p. 346.
THE ELIZABETHAN LYRIC 139
one's fortune ; a flattering song might rescue a courtier
from disgrace and ruin. Friends addressed one another in
rhyme and imitated each other's lyrics ; precisely as an open
letter in a modern newspaper draws out replies, so Eliza-
bethan lyrics had their answers. "Were I a king, I could
command content," writes Edward Vere, Earl of Oxford,
and Sidney answers him "Wert thou a king, yet not command
content," and another writer reminds him "The greatest
kings do least command content." Dyer's long and unin-
spired Fancy is transposed by Southwell to a Sinner's Com-
plaint, while Fulke Greville plays another variation on it.^
Every mood had its song; if men were happy, they sang for
sheer joy; in dejection they turned to verse making. The
unfortunate Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex, hardly pos-
sessed the poetic temperament. A rash, impulsive soldier,
lacking depth and balance, rushing headlong into danger,
verse would seem too fragile a weapon for his hand, yet
Wotton, once his secretary, informs us that "to evaporate
his thoughts in a sonnet was his common way." There is a
tradition that his moving lyric
" Happy were he could finish forth his fate
In some unhaunted desert, most obscure,"
was sent to EHzabeth from Ireland in 1599, where, his army
deserting and his fame shattered, disgrace and ruin stared
him in the face.^
We think of the Elizabethan lyric as a Hght and careless
song of happiness, but men turned to it in the deepest
moments of life. In the reign of James I — but this incident
is perfectly typical of the spirit of Ehzabeth's day — John
ij. Hannah, Poems of Wotton, Raleigh, etc., London, 187S, pp.
14T-148; 154-173.
2 P. 177.
no ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
Hoskins lay in the tower, charged with treason, which almost
invariably implied a death sentence. His wife petitioned for
his release with the following curious document:
" The worst is told; the best is hid:
Kings know not all ; I would they did :
What though my husband once have erred?
Men more to blame have been preferred.
Who hath not erred, he doth not live;
He erred but once ; once, King, forgive !"^
This obtained the prisoner's pardon. Possibly the king
feared another petition. In the tower, under the shadow of
the block, men spent their last moments composing elegies
and laments. "My prime of youth is but a frost of cares,"
writes Tichborne, facing execution, and Southwell, racked
and tortured, awaiting death, writes his tenderest rehgious
lyrics. On the deathbed itself, men wrote their songs, and
Sidney, in contempt of pain, sang one which he had made
about his fatal wound, La cuisse cassee. From a contem-
porary account of the last hours of Walter Devereux
(d. 1576) we read: "The night following, the Friday night,
which was the night before he died, he called William Hewes,
which was his musician, to play upon the virginal and to sing.
'Play,' said he, 'my song. Will Hewes, and I will sing it my-
self.' So he did it most joyfully, not as a howling swan,
which still looking down waiteth her end, but as a sweet
lark."^ And when a man died, his friends, not all poets by
profession, felt it incumbent upon them to compose and pub-
lish elegies for him. To-day, this would be the saddest injury
one's memory could suffer. For every emotion, for every
circumstance of life, men of all classes — courtiers and
ip. 131.
2 A. B. Grosart, Miscellanies of the Fuller Worthies' Library, Poems
of Vau.v, Oxford, etc. [London], 1872, Introduction, p. 13.
THE ELIZABETHAN LYRIC Ul
scholars, priests and soldiers, adventurers and statesmen —
have written their songs. With us the lyric is sung by a few
choice spirits to a small group of listeners; in the days of
Elizabeth, it was the voice of the nation.
Within the compass of a single chapter it is difficult to
deal with this wealth of lyric verse, or even to characterize
it. The lyric spirit was aU-pervasive, often eluding defini-
tion or analysis. The drama is full of lyrics, not the formal
songs which we shall consider but song overflowing into
dialogue, soliloquy and description ; the epic and narrative
verse has its lyric moments not in the songs introduced, but
woven into the very fabric of the poems. The song of the
rose in the second book of the Faerie Queene is not more
lyrical than many another passage. We find, however, that
the lyrics fall roughly into four general groups — the son-
nets; the miscellaneous lyrics; the lyrics of the drama; and
the lyrics in the song books. We shall consider them in this
order.
II
The beginnings of the EUzabethan lyric were far from
brilliant. One of the first writers to meet us is George
Gascoigne (1525P-1577), whom an Italian admirer called
"un' immitatore di Petrarcha, amico d'Ariosto, e parangon
di Bocaccio, Aretino ed ogni altro poeta quanto sia piii
famoso ed eccellente dell' eta nostra"!^ He is the most
voluminous writer of verse since Skelton, but he has left
few lyrics of value, for while at times he shows good metrical
facility, he generally has little to say. His Arraignment of
a Lover, one of his best lyrics, moves with a light step ; we
may call it an early example of society verse :
IJ. W. Cunliffe, The Posies of George Oascoigne, Cambridge, 1907,
p. 29.
IJfZ ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" At Beauty's bar as I did stand.
When false suspect accused me,
'George,' quoth the judge, 'hold up thy hand.
Thou art arraigned of Flattery:
Tell therefore how thou wilt be tried?
Whose judgment here wilt thou abide?' "^
His Lullaby of a lover treats originally, gracefully, and
with a genuine pathos, the old theme of approaching age;
while his Good morrow opens with lines that foretell the
future charm of the lyric. Unfortunately after such musical
and unaffected writing as :
" You that have spent the silent night
In sleep and quiet rest.
And joy to see the cheerful light
That riseth in the East;
Now clear your voice, now cheer your heart.
Come help me now to sing;
Each willing wight come bear a part.
To praise the heavenly king."
we come to the statement that "the carrion crow"
" The devil resembleth- plain.
And as with guns we kill the crow
For spoiling our relief,
The devil so must we overthrow
With gunshot of belief."^
He has little sustained work and writes well as if by accident.
It is interesting to observe that he continues the Surreyan
sonnet, but he has not written a single one of real poetic
worth.
Gascoigne is the author of our first essay on verse com-
position, one paragraph of which is most illuminating. After
some very sensible remarks upon the necessity of using in
1 P. 38.
2 P. 55.
THE ELIZABETHAN LYRIC 1^3
verse the prose accentuation of words, and after recom-
mending a monosyllabic diction ("the more monosyllables
you use, the truer Englishman you are," he exclaims, and
Addison repeats this thought in the Spectator), Gascoigne
makes the following frank statement:
" To help you a little with rhyme (which is also a plain young
scholar's lesson) work thus: when you have set down your first
verse, take the last word thereof and count over all the words
of the self same sound by order of the alphabet : As for example,
the last word of your first line is care; to rhyme therewith you
have bare, dare, dare, fare, gare, hare, and share, mare, snare,
rare, stare, and mare, etc. Of all these, take that which best
may serve your purpose carrying reason with rhyme ; and if none
of them will serve so, then alter the last word of your former
verse, but yet do not willingly alter the meaning of your
invention."^
We have quoted this because most of the earliest Eliza-
bethan lyrics seem to have been written on this principle of
composition. This will be seen in glancing over the lyrics
of George Turberville (1540.?-1610?), who enjoyed a high
contemporary reputation, for Harrington wrote of him
" When times were yet but rude, thy pen endeavoured
To polish barbarism with purer style:"
but he is a mere rhymester; he has no metrical skill; and
nearly every page shows some evidence of a deplorable lack
of taste, to say nothing of inspiration. He has left one good
quatrain, a translation of a passage in Plato that has
attracted many poets, among others, Shelley:
" My girl, thou gazest much
Upon the golden skies.
Would I were Heaven, I would behold
Thee then with all mine eyes."^
1 P. 4.69.
2 A. Chalmers' The Works of the English Poets, vol. II, p. 635.
lU ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
We shall mention but one more of the early EKzabethans,
Barnaby Googe ( 1540-1594) whose Eglogs, Epytaphes, and
Sonnettes were published in a single volume in 1563, the year
before Shakespeare's birth. The section of the book marked
"sonnettes" does not contain an example of that form, for
in general the EKzabethans used the term loosely, often
calling any short poem, even a quatrain, a "sonnet." In
Turberville's poems we find Master George his Sonnet of the
Pains of Love :
" Two lines shall tell the grief.
That I by love sustain:
I burn, I flame, I faint, I freeze,
Of HeU I feel the pain.''^
As a matter of fact, this so-called "sonnet" contains all that
we find in many later quatorzains. We discover in Googe
the influence of TotteVs Miscellany, but except for a httle
more smoothness in his metres, he falls far below the level of
that book. Only two of his "sonnets" deserve citation:
"When I do hear thy name," retains the simpKcity of the
early songs :
" Thy voice when I do hear.
Then colour comes and goes.
Some time as pale as earth I look.
Some time as red as rose."
while his best lyric, "The rushing rivers that do run," con-
tains these verses, "to the tune of Apelles" :
" O Nature, thou that first did frame
My lady's hair of purest gold.
Her face of crystal to the same.
Her lips of precious rubies mold.
Her neck of alabaster white,
Surmounting far each other wight.
IP. 587.
THE ELIZABETHAN LYRIC 1^5
" Why didst thou not that time devise.
Why didst thou not foresee before.
The mischief that thereof doth rise.
And grief on grief doth heap with store.
To make her heart of wax alone.
And not of flint and marble stone ?"^
But these are scanty gleanings, and it was not until 1579
that the new poetry was ushered in with Spenser's Shep-
herd's Calendar, of which we shall speak later, for we are
now at the commencement of the sonnet cycles.^
Thomas Watson ( 1557 ?-l 592) spent his time when a stu-
dent at Oxford "in the smooth and pleasant studies of poetry
and romance" and certainly obtained a thorough acquaint-
ance not only with the Greek and Latin poets, but with the
chief Italian lyrists from Petrarch down, and with Ronsard
and his school. Beginning his literary career in 1589 with
a Latin translation of the Antigone, he entered the field of
the lyric the following year with his Hekatompathia or Pas-
sionate Centurie of Love, a hundred poems ("century"), by
far the greater part translations or adaptations from the
classics, the Italian, and the French. To each of these
"Passions" or "sonnets" as he called them, Watson prefixed
an explanation of its contents and a reference to its source
or sources and it is thus a simple matter to follow him in his
renderings of Theocritus and Horace, Petrarch, Serafino,
and Ronsard. Though but eight of the poems are taken from
Petrarch, Watson has much of his spirit (he tells us he had
made a Latin translation of the sonnets of the Canzoniere)
and indeed he was regarded as his English counterpart.
George Bucke, in a copy of commendatory vers'es, informs
him that
iGooge in Arber's English Reprints, London, 1871, pp. 95, 106.
2 Strictly speaking the new movement in the Elizabethan lyric may be
first discerned in Spenser's boyish translations from Petrarch and Du
Bellay published in the Theatre for Worldlings, 1569.
H6 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" The stars, which did at Petrarch's birthday reign.
Were fixed again at thy nativity,"
and that compared with Petrarch and Laura
" Thou and thy dame be equal, save percase
Thou pass the one, and she excells the other."^
Watson did not imitate the Petrarchian sonnet form, but
employed instead a combination of three six line stanzas of
the type later made famous by Shakespeare's Venus and
Adonis. The poems are free translations and at times
mosaics, for in one, the first twelve lines are each taken from
a different author. Lacking in inspiration, Watson fre-
quently descended to what Addison called false wit. He
possesses little imagination or feeling ; there is no force in
his writing ; and it was hardly necessary for him to inform
us that his pains are "but supposed." The best that can
be said of him is that he shows, at times, an easy, graceful
style and that he has a plaintive note, not without a certain
charm, as in his ninth Passion :
" The marigold so likes the lovely sun
That when he sets, the other hides her face,
And when he gins his morning course to run.
She spreads abroad, and shows her greatest grace;
So shuts or sprouts my joy, as doth this flower,
When my sunshine doth either laugh or lower."^
There is a deHcacy of expression in such a line as
" Each thought I think is friend to her I love,
and the two Passions beginning '"My gentle bird, which sung
so sweet of late," and "When May is in his prime," are good
examples of his best qualities.^
1 Thomas Watson, in Arber's English Reprints, London, 1870, p. 33.
2 P. 45.
3 Pp. 52, 62.
THE ELIZABETHAN LYRIC H7
In 1593, the year after Watson's death, appeared his
Tears of Fancie, a series of sixty sonnets in the Surreyan
form. They are much better reading, though they bear the
marks of foreign imitation. A single quotation shows their
style :
" Behold, dear mistress, how each pleasant green
Will now renew his summer's livery:
The fragrant flowers which have not long been seen,
Will flourish now ere long in bravery.
But I, alas, within whose mourning mind
The grafts of grief are only given to grow.
Can not enjoy the Spring which others find.
But still my will must wither all in woe."^
Watson enjoyed a high reputation in his own day, but he
deserves the oblivion into which he has fallen and from which
Professor Arber gallantly tried to rescue him, for he has
left us no poem of the first order and we remember him only
as the author of our earliest love sequence and as one of our
first writers of madrigals.^
The first Elizabethan sonnet sequence worthy to be com-;
pared with the Italian or French cycles is Sir Philip Sidney's
Astrophel and Stella. Sidney (1554-1586) was a scholar,!
courtier, and soldier ; a critic, novelist, and poet, yet for all
his varied interests and his recognized brilliancy, he had
neither a fortunate nor a happy career. A member of a
distinguished family, nephew to Elizabeth's favorite, the
Earl of Leicester, he naturally looked forward to a position
of influence in state affairs, but he displeased the queen, who
gave him the trifle of three million acres in Virginia but no
share in the government. Once in despair, for he was
actually poor, he contemplated emigrating to this domain.
1 P. 202.
^Italian Madrigals Englished, 1590, reprinted in the Journal of
Oermanic Philology, vol. II, No. iii, p. 337.
H8 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
An American can not forbear conjecturing what the early
history of the Virginia colony would have been had Sidney
and a group of his friends inaugurated it. Unfortunate in
his public life, he found his greatest pleasure in his writings
and in the friendship of a group of poets of whom Spenser
was the chief. His nature was a serious one ; melancholy
had marked him for her own ; and his Huguenot friend and
counsellor Languet, a man whose character was anything
but frivolous, protested that Sidney was of a too sober
disposition. In his miniature painted by Oliver we see him
seated beneath a tree, in a doublet slashed with black,
pensive, mournful, one arm across his breast, the other hold-
ing his sword — a Lover's Melancholy or II Penseroso, we
might call it. Could any one be better fitted to continue the
Petrarchian tradition of unhappy love?
Astrophel and Stella was printed surreptitiously in 1591,
five years after Sidney's death. So far from desiring it to
be published, on his deathbed he begged his friends to burn
his writings ; an injunction which certainly included the
sonnets as well as the unfinished Arcadia. Ostensibly this
sonnet cycle portrays Sidney's love for Penelope Devereux
(1562P-1607). The daughter of the Earl of Essex, she had
been destined by her father to marry Sidney, who showed
no interest in her until after her unhappy match with Lord
Rich in 1581. Some time between that date and Sidney's
marriage to Frances Walsingham in 1683 these sonnets were
written. Their interpretation is still a matter of dispute.^
Read Kterally they portray Sidney's devotion for a married
woman who loves him in return. Restrained by a sense of
honor, she makes of Sidney a Platonic lover. To us the situa-
tion seems an impossible one, but the Renaissance treated it
as seriously as we would a genuine passion swaying a man
and a maid. Tasso could write to a bride on her marriage,
1 J. B. Fletcher, The Eeligioti of Beauty in Woman, N. Y., 1911, pp.
147-165, "Did Astrophel love SteUa?'
THE ELIZABETHAN LYRIC U9
urging her, in the inevitable sonnet, to reserve for him the
best part of her love. Evidently to interpret Elizabethan
sonnet cycles in terms of the nineteenth century is madness,
yet Symonds, disregarding the exotic as well as the conven-
tional element in Astrophel and Stella, has constructed from
it a whole romance, with each step in the growth of Sidney's
passion clearly marked — imaginative but scarcely reason-
able criticism. On the other hand, Sidney Lee goes so far
as to deny that these sonnets possess "any serious auto-
biographic significance."^ The truth probably lies midway
between these two opinions, in the "golden mean" which the
Elizabethans praised. To draw an analogy from a sister
art, the painters of the Renaissance often placed amid a
group of figures, purely imaginary, their own portraits.
It is very probable that at times, amid the translations and
evident imitations of the sonnets, we may discover Sidney
himself. It is this fact, as well as the inherent poetic worth
of the sequence, that makes it a landmark in the history of
the Enghsh lyric.
After leaving Oxford in 1572, Sidney passed nearly three
years on the continent. In the course of his journeys, he
visited Venice, a home of the Petrarchian school. A tablet
still marks the house on the Riva degli Schiavoni which the
"liberality of the senate" offered to Petrarch, and thanks
to Bembo and his followers, the influence of his song still
lingered there. As in the case of Wyatt, this glimpse of
Italy determined in a large measure Sidney's poetic career.
That he entered with zest into Venetian life can not be
doubted; he had his portrait painted by Veronese and he
must have turned to that art which interested him more
than painting. It would be strange indeed if he did not read
the poetry of Petrarch and of his lesser clan. Though he
IJ. A. Symonds, Sidney, in English Men of Letters; Sidney Lee,
Introduction to Elizabethan Sonnets, vol. I, in the re-issue of Arber's
English Garner.
150 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
imitated the French sonneteers, I believe he derived much of
his inspiration directly from Italy, rather than through the
medium of French verse. Several of his songs were written
to Italian music, and it is hardly necessary to point out that
the situation in Astrophel and Stella is precisely that of
Petrarch's Canzoniere, indeed the very title "Stella" is
derived from the Petrarchians.^ Accordingly much of our
analysis and criticism of the Canzoniere may be applied to
Sidney's sequence. Coming from a reading of the Petrarch-
ists, we hear their music re-echoing in many a line of Sid-
ney's laments even when we can not detect formal imitation.
It is unfortunate that despite Sidney's great reputation,
Astrophel and Stella is little known to-day; for the most
persistent reader of EngHsh verse would probably have
difficulty in citing a dozen lines from his sonnets. Charles
Lamb devoted an essay to them, quoting with a few com-
ments the ones he most admired, yet he failed to awaken an
interest in the poet ; at the present time Sidney is known
only by those poems that attract compilers of anthologies.
The reason for this neglect is the inequality of his work.
1 L. Dolce begins a sonnet :
" Stella ; che degna ben vi dimostrate
Del nome, che si dolce e altero suona;"
while Rinieri has two beginning, "Celeste forma, anzi lucente stella;''and
"Questa nuova del ciel felice Stella." Marco Cavallo, a well-known
Venetian, secretary to the Cardinal Marco Conaro, is fond of addressing
his mistress under this name:
" Si come I'amorosa, e vaga Stella,
Ch'a I'alba inanzi sempre apparir sole.
Con suoi fulgentirai fa scorte Sole,
Tal la mia Donna; che dal quella luce
Prese il bel nome, e i bei celeste rai."
I take these quotations from Rime Diverse, vols. I and II.
THE ELIZABETHAN LYRIC 161
Although he asserted that he was "no pick purse of another's
wit," he admitted that he had spent his time
" Oft turning others' leaves^ to see if thence would flow
Some fresh and fruitful showers upon my sunburnt brain,"^
and unfortunately in this process he absorbed too many
ideas from the Petrarchists. A considerable number of son-
nets, which the age considered witty and ingenious, we find
insipid, tedious, and even ridiculous, for literary fashions
soon change and it is quite possible that succeeding genera-
tions will yawn as wearily over our twentieth century epi-
grams and paradoxes as we do over Sidney's sonnet that
describes Stella's face as a house (an old device) with her
mouth the door, her hair the golden roof, and her eyes the
windows.^ Equally uninspired are those sonnets in which
Cupid appears ; in a typical one, Stella's eyebrows form his
bow.^ As a rule, Cupid is the evil genius of the Elizabethan
lyric ; there are rare exceptions such as Lyly's song Cupid
and my Campaspe played, which employs this conceit of
Sidney's. We must admit that many of the sonnets have
neither personal nor poetical significance.
Discarding the poorer element, we turn to the best, by
which a writer must always be judged. It is impossible to
avoid seeing in a small group of sonnets a presentation of
Sidney's own life, for he did follow the Muse's injunction to
"look in thy heart, and write" ; he has left many lines which
"bewray an inward touch." We believe this because many
of the sonnets square exactly with the course of Sidney's
career. With Petrarch and his followers the enamorement
comes at the first glance of beauty ; with Sidney it was not
love at first sight:
1 See Lee's Elizabethan Sonnets, vol. I, Astrophel and Stella, sonnet i.
2 No. ix.
3 No. xvii.
162 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" Not at the first sight, nor with a dribbed shot.
Love gave the wound, which while I breathe, will bleed:
But known worth did in mine of time proceed, (by slow
undermining)
Till, by degrees, it had full conquest got,"
and again he cries :
" 'I might — unhappy word, O me ! — I might,
And then would not, or could not see my bliss."
The Petrarchians insist that their love incites the soul to
virtuous deeds, and Sidney often follows them; in a sonnet
speaking of Stella's goodness and beauty he writes :
" And not content to be perfection's heir.
Thyself dost strive all minds that way to move;
Who mark in thee, what is in thee most fair:
So while thy beauty draws the heart to love.
As fast thy virtue bends that love to good.
But ah ! Desire still cries, 'Give me some food !' "^
This last line is the significant one ; Sidney wears his rue
with a difference, for Platonic idealism does not satisfy him.
Moreover while the Petrarchists weary us with assertions
that their love ennobles them, Sidney is aware that his
passion can lead only to a dishonorable conclusion:
" Alas ! have I not pain enough ? my friend !
But with your rhubarb words ye must contend
To grieve me worse in saying 'That Desire
Doth plunge my well-formed soul even in the mire
Of sinful thoughts, which do in ruin end.' "^
After Sidney's death, Stella deserted her husband who had
been forced upon her and who treated her with neglect and
1 Nos. ii, xxxiii, Ixxi.
2 No. xiv.
THE ELIZABETHAN LYRIC 153
even with brutality. In itself this is not a sufficient argu-
ment to discredit Sidney's statement that her firmness and
her affection for him prevented a catastrophe which would
have involved them both. The two sonnets in which Sidney
plays upon the name of Stella's husband, Lord Rich, are
quite different from the sonnets in which Petrarch puns on
Laura's name; Sidney writes in scorn and anger of
" that rich fool, who by blind Fortune's lot,
The richest gem of love and Ufa enjoys;
And can with foul abuse such beauties blot."^
Hitherto the lyrical poets had not put into verse the
trivial yet important happenings of their lives, and Sidney
marks a progress when he does this. Many of his poems
refer to definite events. He meets Stella riding uncovered
when other ladies fear the sun ; he sees her moved to tears by
the reading of a love tragedy; he hears her read his own
verses ; Stella
" Who, hard by, made a window send forth light :"
(a splendid phrase) sees him win in a tourney.^ These are
indeed slight occurrences but it is the weaving into verse of
all a man's moods and impressions as well as his greater
emotions that makes the lyric the real voice of the human
spirit. From another point of view, on such slender happen-
ings have depended the greatest artistic results. The song
of a lark in the fields, of a nightingale in a covert, of a
peasant girl in the Scottish highlands, have enriched English
literature with three priceless lyrics.
The sonnets certainly reveal Sidney's nature. He is an
aristocrat, moving in courtly circles, proud of his birth and
1 No. xxlv; cf. xxxvii, a sonnet suppressed in the first edition of
Astrophel and Stella and not printed until 1598.
2 Nos. xxii, xlv, Mil, liii.
15^. ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
rank ; he remembers the achievements of his family and asks
how
" Ulster likes of that same golden bit.
Wherewith my father once made it half tame ?"
He is proud of his horsemanship, his strength, his skill in the
jousts which even the French, past masters in such pursuits,
cover with applause :
" Youth, luck and praise even filled my veins with pride."
He has all the culture of his day ; we see him reading Plato,
" The wisest scholar of the wight most wise,"
while "Aristotle's wit" he values as highly as Cffisar's fame.
What a contrast between the sonnets of this young noble-
man and those of that "unlettered clerk" who went here and
there "a motley to the view." Yet many of Sidney's Hnes
foretell Shakespeare.
" With what sharp checks I in myself am shent,
When into Reason's audit I do go;
And by just coimts, myself a bankrupt know
Of all those goods which heaven to me hath lent,"
might have come from the greatest of all Elizabethan son-
neteers.^
Judging the sonnets from the purely artistic standpoint,
not many are well written throughout ; they are frequently
marred by roughness of phrase and by obscurity of con-
struction and expression. In general they lack that sweet-
ness of cadence which we associate with the sonnet form, for
though Sidney employs the Petrarchian rhyme scheme, he
ends his sestet, with disconcerting effect, in a couplet. If
the verse is at times halting, it has vigor and movement:
1 Nos. XXX, liii, xxv (cf. xxi), xvlil.
THE ELIZABETHAN LYRIC 155
" Highway ! since you my chief Parnassus be ;
And that my Muse to some ears not unsweet,
Tempers her words to trampling horses' feet
More oft than to a chamber melody."^
In such an apostrophe we first see an individual style in the
English sonnet. Even in his purely imitative verse, Sidney
can be at his best. The Petrarchian school has left us many
sonnets on sleep. Giovanni della Casa's masterpiece is a
typical one:
" O SonnOj o della queta^ umida, ombrosa
Notte placido figlio; o de' mortali
Egri conforto, oblio dolce de' mall
Si gravij ond'e la vita aspra e noiosa;
Soccorri al core omai, che langue, e posa
Non have; e queste membra stanche e frali
SoUeva :' a me te n' vola, O Sonno, e I'ali
Tue brune sovra me distendi e posa."
(O Sleep, peaceful son of the quiet, dewy, shadowy night; com-
fort of weary mortals, sweet oblivion of heavy ills, whence life
is rough and wearisome; aid now the heart that languishes nor
has repose; lift up these limbs, weary and frail; fly to me,
O Sleep, and thy brown wings spread over me.)
Shakespeare, in his great speech of Macbeth, shows the
influence of such lines and Sidney has as fine an imagery, as
musical an appeal in his
" Come Sleep ! O Sleep ! the certain knot of peace ;
The baiting place of wit, the balm of woe.
The poor man's wealth, the prisoner's release,
Th' indifferent judge between the high and low."^
1 No. Ixxxiv.
2 No. xxxix. E. Koeppel, Bomanische Forschungen, V, p. 97, after
having pointed out passages in which Sidney imitates the Italian lyric,
observes justly: "Sidney could not escape the powerful influence of
Petrarch, he has paid him rich tribute, but he has poured so much new
wine in the old bottles that no one can contest his right to say, 'I am
no pick-purse of another's wit.' "
156 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
In the midst of the most ineffective sonnets there is gen-
erally some spark of the divine fire, some noble line such as
" Those lips ! which make death's pay, a mean price for a kiss."
His best known sonnet is certainly his finest one; it is thor-
oughly characteristic — unevenly written, obscurely ex-
pressed in the concluding line, but infused with fine emotion:
" With how sad steps, O INIoon, thou climb'st the skies !
How silently, and with how wan a face!"^
Shelley might have written this. Here for the first time in
the English lyric we have a deep sorrow illumined by the
light of the poet's imagination.
In 1593 Barnaby Barnes (1569-1609) published his
Parthenophil and Parthenophe. Sonnets, Madrigals, Elegies
and Odes, a wearisome collection of verse — there are over
one hundred sonnets alone- — which may be characterized as
containing much matter but little art. At times he links
his sonnets together. The first nine treat of the imprison-
ment and release of his heart; sonnets xxxii-xUii describe a
zodiac of love ; but on the whole the book is a series of dis-
connected love poems, imitations or adaptations of Petrarch,
Sannazzaro, Ronsard, and the French school, while the
classics are represented by the Lost Cupid of Moschus.
Although the greater part of the book has not been traced
directly to its foreign sources, there are many reminiscences
of the Petrarchian school. Barnes wishes his love to be
1 No. xxxi. Cf. Shelley's
" Art thou pale for weariness
Of climbing heaven and gazing on the earth."
It is interesting to remember that Sidney is the one Elizabethan poet
who enjoyed a reputation in France. See the reference in Noe of Du
Bartas to "milor Cydn6," "Cygne doux chantant," and contrast it with
the slighting allusion to Ben Jonson in Saint Amant's Albion.
THE ELIZABETHAN LYRIC 157
" 'bove Stella placed;
'Bove Lauraj"
and employs the usual themes — death, sleep, a lover's suffer-
ings— the old similes, the old phraseology. Of the writer
himself, we see nothing.
There is one interesting trait in his style; his penchant
for legal terms, which he tortures and twists to meet a lover's
woes. As Mr. Lee suggests, it is highly interesting to com-
pare the similar phrases in Shakespeare's sonnets.
" But when the mortgage should have cured the sore,
She passed it off, by deed of gift before,"
he writes, or
" And when, through thy default, I thee did summon
Into the Court of Steadfast Love, then cried,
'As it was promised, here stands his heart's bail!
And if in bonds to thee, my love be tied.
Then by those bonds, take forfeit of the sale.' "'
How far is all this from :
" When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past,"
or
" Farewell ! thou art too dear for my possessing.
And like enough thou know'st thy estimate:
The charter of thy worth gives thee releasing ;
My bonds in thee are all determinate."
Shakespeare repeats in his sonnets the situations, the ideas,
the emotions of his predecessors, but he has so refined and
transformed them that we forget, as we do in reading the
poems of Bums, how much has been suggested by unre-
membered singers.
'^ ParthenopMl, sonnets, nos. viii, xi; in Lee's Elizabethan Sonnets, vol.
158 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
Barnes has one sure claim to remembrance. Like Arvers,
the author of
" Mon ame a son secret, ma vie a son mystere,"
he is the poet of one sonnet. We read on through allegories
and the commonplaces of mythology, until we reach sonnet
Ixv which closes as follows :
" Oh that I never had been born at all.
Or being, had been born of shepherds' brood!
Then should I not in such mischances fall.
Quiet, my water ; and Content, my food.
But now disquieted, and still tormented.
With adverse fate, perforce, must rest contented."
There is nothing remarkable in all this, but these few hnes
gave Barnes the suggestion, the impulse for the sonnet that
immediately follows. It is marked by a pensive sweetness,
a gentle melancholy (for Barnes had no deep feeling). To
borrow a figure from music, when he bears hard on the
strings, they scrape and grate. Here for once he found
himself :
" Ah, sweet Content! where is thy mild abode?
Is it with shepherds, and light-hearted swains,
Which sing upon the downs, and pipe abroad.
Tending their flocks and cattle on the plains.''
Ah, sweet Content ! where dost thou safely rest ?
In heaven, with angels ? which the praises sing
Of Him that made, and rules at his behest.
The minds and hearts of every living thing.
Ah, sweet Content! where dost thine harbour hold.'
Is it in churches, with religious men.
Which please the gods with prayers manifold ;
And in their studies meditate it then.''
Whether thou dost in heaven, or earth appear;
Be where thou wilt ! Thou wilt not harbour here !"'
1 Nos. Ixv, Ixvi.
THE ELIZABETHAN LYRIC 169
Two other sonnet series appeared in 1593. Thomas
Lodge's Phillis consists of forty sonnets, gracefully written
but for the most part boldly plagarized from Ronsard and
Desportes, from Ariosto and other Italian writers. His
collection is interesting chiefly as exhibiting in the most
striking manner the dependence of the Elizabethan sonnet-
eers on foreign models ; it contains hardly a sonnet worthy
to be treasured in the reader's memory, although Lodge else-
where shows lyric gifts of a high order.
As for Giles Fletcher's Licia, the author tells us in his
preface that he wrote it "only to try my humour," but its
fifty-two sonnets are much more trying to the reader's
patience ; we weary of the incessant appearance of Cupid,
even though at times he is presented with some grace.
Fletcher is unoriginal and has left little to be remembered.
One of the best sonnets in Licia reminds us of Shakespeare
as did the legal phraseology of Barnes :
" In time the strong and stately turrets fall.
In time the rose, and silver lilies die.
In time the monarchs captives are and thrall.
In time the sea and rivers are made dry.
******
Thus all, sweet Fair, in time must have an end:
Except thy beauty, virtues, and thy friend."^
The following year, 1594, saw the publication of five
sonnet cycles, the anonymous Zepheria, Percy's Caelia, Con-
stable's Diana, Daniel's Delia, and Drayton's Idea.' The
1 No. xxviii In Lee's reprint of Licia, in op. cit., vol. II. For
Fletcher's borrowings see A. B. Grosart's edition of Licia in Occasional
Isanes, II.
2 Reprinted by Lee, op. cit., vol. II. Diana was first issued 1592;
re-issued, enlarged, 1S94. At the end of Astrophel and Stella, 38 of
Daniel's sonnets were printed unauthorizedly. The following year he
published 55 sonnets and in 1594 revised and enlarged this collection.
See Lee, op. cit.. Introduction.
160 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
most that can be said of the twenty sonnets in Ccelia, and
the forty canzons in Zepheria is that their publication bears
witness to the interest in sonnet hterature to which they add
nothing. Constable's Diana is written with much more skill,
and the following sonnet is interesting because it brings to
a trite subject a new air:
" If ever Sorrow spoke from soul that loves,
As speaks a spirit in a man possest.
In me, her spirit speaks. My soul it moves.
Whose sigh-swoll'n words breed whirlwinds in my breast:
Or like the echo of a passing bell.
Which sounding on the water, seems to howl;
So rings my heart a fearful heavy knell,
7\jid keeps all night in consort with the owl."^
These are not the customary similes of the Ehzabethan son-
net, and we seem to hear in them anticipatory strains of the
lyric of melancholy, of Fletcher's
" A midnight bell, a parting groan —
These are the sounds we feed upon:"
or Milton's far-oflf curfew, sounding
" Over some wide watered shore,
Swinging slow with sullen roar."
The collections of Daniel and Drayton well repay the
reader. Samuel Daniel (1562-1619) was educated at
Oxford, had travelled in Italy, and enjoyed the friendship
of the great. He was a careful writer ; his style was his best
quality, for though many of his sonnets are taken from the
Italian and the French (he certainly deserves the harsh title
of plagiarist), they avoid that awkwardness of expression
which often accompanies translation in a fixed poetic form.
His lines have such grace and smoothness that they may be
1 Sonnet iii of the "Fifth Decade" in Lee's reprint.
THE ELIZABETHAN LYRIC 161
regarded as something more than an echo of another's
thought :
" Rendez a Tor cette couleur qui dore
Ces blonds cheveux,"
writes Du Bellay in his Olive (sonnet xci) :
" Restore thy treasure to the golden ore.
Yield Cytherea's son those arks of love !"
is Daniel's version. Coleridge, commenting on his style,
points out that in his phraseology Daniel is distinctly a man
of our own day, and his vocabulary does indeed sound modern
when contrasted with that of Shakespeare's sonnets. The
father was a musician and the son certainly inherited the
musician's ear, for his phrases have a dying fall ; their
melody is tender, soft, and grave, but the deeper notes are
never struck, and the stronger feelings are untouched.
" Reign in my thoughts, fair hand, sweet eye, rare voice,"
is a typical line in its even modulation.
As we have stated, the sonnets are a series of graceful
translations, and we must not expect self-revelation here.
The love he describes is a Platonic one:
" My spotless love hovers, with purest wings.
About the temple of the proudest frame ;
Where blaze those lights, fairest of earthly things,
Which clear our clouded world with brightest flame."
and it is dedicated to
" A modest maid, decked with a blush of honour.
Whose feet do tread green paths of youth and love;
The wonder of all eyes that look upon her:
Sacred on earth, designed a saint above."
His subjects are the conventional ones. In contradistinction
to the immortality which he can confer by his verses, he sings
162 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
the fading of beauty — it is "Mignonne, allons voir si la rose"
of Ronsard.
or
" Look Delia, how we 'steem the half-blown rose,"
" Beauty, sweet love, is like the morning dew ;
Whose short refresh upon the tender green,
Cheers for a time, but till the sun doth show :
And straight 'tis gone, as it had never been."
His best known sonnet sums up his qualities, for it is gentle,
musical, and above all — reminiscent of Cariteo, deUa Casa,
and Desportes.
■■ Care-charmer Sleep ! son of the sable Night,
Brother to death ! In silent darkness born !
Relieve my anguish and restore the light.
With dark forgetting of my cares, return."^
Michael Drayton (1563-1631) is frank enough in an
introductory sonnet prefixed to his Idea in 1599 to warn the
reader not to look for passion in his verses ; yet we must not
conclude that he regarded his sonnets as a poetic pastime of
small value, for he constantly reissued them, with revisions,
suppressions and additions, until the original fifty-one had
grown to a hundred by the last edition, 1619. Whether or
not Anne Goodere is to be considered as the subject of these
poems, it is evident that he is a frankly imitative writer,
offering us the thoughts common to all the sonneteers.
Realizing the conventionality of his themes and remembering
his own frank statement, we can not but smile when he bids us
" read at last the story of my woe,
The dreary abstracts of my endless cares,
With my life's sorrow interlined so.
Smoked with my sighs, and blotted with my tears.
The sad memorials of my miseries."
1 Nos. xii, vi, xxxiv, xlv, xllx in Lee's reprint of Delia.
THE ELIZABETHAN LYRIC IBS
Yet Drayton writes with such vivacity that even when he
is artificial, indulging in conceits, he interests us. His note
is not so grave or tender as Daniel's; he has an easier,
simpler, and at times, an almost conversational style.
" How many paltry, foolish painted things.
That now in coaches trouble every street.
Shall be forgotten (whom no poet sings)
Ere they be well wrapped in their winding sheet !"
Without the long, slow movement of Daniel, his verse is
musical :
" Dear, why should you command me to my rest.
When now the world doth summon all to sleep ?
Methinks, this time becometh lovers best.
Night was ordained together friends to keep.''
Here we have the familiar sonnet on night, yet with a new
motive. He strikes the old Platonic note in one of his best
sonnets :
" Clear Ankor, on whose silver-sanded shore
My soul shrined Saint, my fair Idea lives;
O blessed brook ! whose milk-white swans adore
Thy crystal stream, refined by her eyes,"
but no counterpart has been found for the one on which his
fame will rest.
In the 1599 edition of his sonnets there is one To Humour
which begins:
" You cannot love, my pretty Heart! and why?
There was a time you told me that you would."
Here we have a brisk dialogue; the lines move trippingly as
the poet smiles at the contradictions of woman, knowing
" Your love and hate is this, I now do prove you.
You love in hate, by hate to make me love you."'^
1 Nos. liv, vi, xxxvii, liil, xix in Lee's reprint of the Idea.
16^ ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
It is not always that a poet's last word is his best, but in the
final edition of the Idea, 1619, there appeared for the first
time a sonnet in this same genre, "Since there's no help,
come, let us kiss and part." Though we may well hesitate
to call it, as did Rossetti, the finest sonnet in the language,
it is certainly a masterpiece. Fortunately it is so well known
that it needs little comment, though we may point out that
the personification is perfectly employed, one of the rare
instances in Elizabethan sonnet Hterature:
" Now, at the last gasp of Love's latest breath,
When his pulse failing. Passion speechless lies ;
When Faith is kneeling by his bed of death.
And Innocence is closing up his eyes:"
and that the concluding couplet is an epitome of the whole
tragi-comedy of love:
" Now, if thou wouldst, when all have given him over.
From death to life, thou might'st him yet recover.''
The twenty sonnets by Richard Bamfield, published with
his Cynthia in 1595, are interesting only in the fact that
contrary to the established custom they picture not a maiden
but a youth, Ganymede.^ This same year appeared a most
important collection, Spenser's Amoretti. These sonnets
are considered by critics as second only to Shakespeare's.
This undoubtedly is a just estimate, for they maintain
throughout a higher poetic level than the sequences we have
considered, though there are many times when Sidney writes
with more energy and poignancy ; no lines in the Amoretti
have the imaginative force of his apostrophe to the moon.
It is a sufficient criticism of the aesthetic worth of these
poems to say that we clearly recognize in them the writer
of the Faerie Queene and though in one of his sonnets
1 Cynthia is reprinted in A. H. BuUen's Longer Elizabethan Poems,
re-issue of Arber's English Garner.
THE ELIZABETHAN LYRIC 165
Spenser declares that he is worn out with his arduous work
on the epic of Faeryland, his style shows little trace of
exhaustion/ As he had invented his own metre for his
greatest work, so here he devises a new sonnet form, linking
the three quatrains together by rhyming the last line of one ;
to the first line of the next. The verses have a slow, tender
cadence; the music is delicate and gentle; there are few
discords, rarely a harsh tone.
" Fresh Spring, the herald of love's mighty king,
In whose coat-armour richly are displayed
All sorts of flowers, the which on earth do spring,
In goodly colours gloriously arrayed;
Go to my love, where she is careless laid.
Yet in her winter's bower not well awake ;
Tell her the joyous time will not be stayed.
Unless she do him by the forelock take ;
Bid her therefore herself soon ready make,
To wait on Love amongst his lovely crew;
Where every one, that misseth then her make.
Shall be by him amerced with penance due.
Make haste, therefore, sweet love, while it is prime ;
For none can call again the passed time."^
No Elizabethan sequence gives the English reader so good
an idea of the music of the Petrarchians as does the Amor-
etti, even though Spenser abandons their rhyme scheme.
Turning to the content of the poems, we observe that
Spenser, like Prometheus so dear to the sonneteers, has
"filched his fire" on many occasions. Ronsard and Desportes
furnished him with numerous passages and there are many
traces of the Petrarchists in his account of the truces and
ambushes, the sieges and assaults of his heart ; or in such
conceits as "My love is like to ice and I to fire." His mis-
1 No. Ixxx. Cf. xxxiil, Lee's reprint, op. cit.
2 No. Ixx.
166 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
tress, now a "sweet" or "cruel" warrior, now his "saint,"
resembles the heroines of whom we have read. She is
" The glorious image of the Maker's beauty.
My sovereign saint, the idol of my thought,
*******
And of the brood of angels heavenly born ;
And with the crew of blessed saints upbrought.
Each of which did her with their gifts adorn."^
With every allowance, however, for the spirit of imitation
which affected Spenser as it did in various degrees every
sonneteer of the period, this collection was written for a
creature of flesh and blood — the Elizabeth who became his
wife and for whom he composed the Epithalamion, first
printed with these sonnets.^ If Spenser frequently uses the
popular imagery of the day, he is none the less sincere.
The idealism that pervades these sonnets, the Platonic con-
ceptions of love and beauty, were no empty phrases for the
greatest Platonist in our poetry, and his worship of beauty
and his belief that it is but a manifestation of a rarer beauty
of soul re-echoes the splendid enthusiasm of his hymns :
" Men call you fair, and you do credit it,
For that yourself ye daily such do see:
But the true fair, that is the gentle wit,
And virtuous mind, is much more praised of me:
******
That is true beauty; that doth argue you
To be divine, and born of heavenly seed; —
Derived from that fair Spirit from whom all true
And perfect beauty did at first proceed."'
1 No. Ixi ; of. xl-xiv, xxx, Ivii, xlix.
2 1 cannot accept P. W. Long's contention that the Amoretti were
composed in honor of Lady Elizabeth Carey. See M. L. Review, vol. Ill,
p. 257; cf. vol. V, p. 273.
3 No. Ixxix ; for other sonnets expressing the Platonic conception of
love, see Ixxii, Ixxxvii.
THE ELIZABETHAN LYRIC 167
Love with him is a pure religion and changing Milton's hne :
" the spur that the clear spirit doth raise
To scorn delights, and live laborious days."
There is no darker side to the picture, as in Shakespeare's
sonnets; no storm, not even a cloud disturbs the lovehness
of the spring day, for we are in a fragrant meadow where
" The merry cuckoo, messenger of spring,
His trumpet shrill hath thrice already sounded.
That warns all lovers wait upon their king.
Who now is coming forth with garland crowned.
'1
Though every sonneteer professes the conviction that his
verses must live forever in the minds of men, when Spenser
in his splendid sonnet "One day I wrote her name upon the
strand" exclaims:
" let baser thing devise
To die in dust, but you shall live by fame:
My verse your virtues rare shall eternize.
And in the heavens write your glorious name.
Where, when as death shall all the world subdue.
Our love shall live, and later life renew,"^
we feel the ring of sincerity, for he believes that such a love
as his must be eternal.
The sonnet collections that followed the Amoretti are un-
important. In 1596 appeared Griffin's Fidessa, Linche's
Diella, and Smith's Chloris? The writers have nothing to
tell us ; they plagiarize and imitate, and by this time the
most energetic reader has become wearied of sonnets de-
scribing the theft of Prometheus, the storm-tossed sailor,
1 No. xix.
2 No. Ixxv.
3 Reprinted by Lee, O'p. cit., vol. II.
168 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
the siege of a heart, the bird caught in the fowler's snare;
he hstens unmoved to "sighs of most heart-breaking might"
and to the portrayal of a lover's torments ; and he has
I become impatient of the endless invocations to sleep, to
Inight, and to death. Of the large number of sonnets which
we have described, very few satisfy us, for we read them not
to understand the literary fashions of the age, but to feel
the thrill, the inspiration that inspired song awakens in us.
The Elizabethan lyric, unequalled in certain of its aspects,
jis not pre-eminent here, for the age that expressed itself so
frankly and fearlessly in the drama, seemed to lose its per-
sonality in the narrow form of the sonnet. The hand of
Petrarch weighed too heavily on the sonneteer's shoulder
and he wrote
" As if his whole vocation
Were endless imitation."
Aside from the influence of Petrarch, it may not be altogether
fanciful to ascribe in some measure to the character of
Elizabeth herself that excessive, surfeiting flattery of woman-
kind which is the most persistent note in the sonnets. The
queen lived on adulation and her whole life was one courtship.
Suitor followed suitor — Thomas Earl of Seymour, Eric of
j Sweden, the Earl of Arundel, Sir William Pickering (whose
I friends, we are told, wagered four to one that he would
marry the queen), Philip of Spain, Don Carlos, the Due
d'Anjou, the Due d'Alen9on, the Earl of Leicester — the list
is by no means exhausted, and something of the court the
world paid to the queen the sonneteers paid their real or
imaginary mistresses.^ Be this as it may, if the reader will
open William Sharp's Sonnets of this Century and select at
haphazard not from the greatest names, but from the lesser
poets, he will see that in the variety of its emotions and in its
1 See Martin A. S. Hume's The Courtships of Queen Elizabeth,
London, 1896.
THE ELIZABETHAN LYRIC 169
technique the modern sonnet bears comparison with the best
sonnets of the Elizabethan age.
But we have reckoned without Shakespeare, to whom,
supreme in everything he touched, it was reserved to bring
to its perfection the Elizabethan sonnet, and vindicate its
place in our lyric verse. In 1609 was issued Shakespeare's
sonnets, never before imprinted. The book met with no such
reception as the published plays, of which the most popular,
such as Hamlet and Richard the Third, went through several
impressions in Shakespeare's lifetime. The second edition of
the sonnets did not appear until 1640, the third until 1709 —
three editions in a century. Daniel's sonnets were reprinted
three times in two years ; Drayton himself brought out four
editions of his sonnets and they were also reprinted eight
times with his other works during his lifetime. One would sup-
pose that Hamlet and Othello would have saved the sonnets
from obscurity, but as late as 1793 Steevens wrote in his edi-
tion of Shakespeare: "We have not reprinted the sonnets of
Shakespeare because the strongest act of Parliament that
could be framed would fail to compel readers into their ser-
vice Had Shakespeare produced no other works than
these, his name would have reached us with as little celebrity
as time has conferred on that of Thomas Watson, an older
and much more elegant sonneteer."^ He elsewhere informs us
that the sonnets are composed in the "highest strain of affec-
tation, pedantry, circumlocution and nonsense," they are
"purblind and obscure stuff" — and this from an admirer of
the bard! As late as 1815 Wordsworth wrote that Steevens
ventured his condemnation of the sonnets simply "because
the people of England were ignorant of the treasures con-
tained in them."^ This seems incredible. During the last
decade the sonnets have offered a chief point of discussion
in Shakespearean study.
1 Vol. I, p. vii.
2 Essay, supplementary to the Preface of Lyrical Ballads.
110 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
Into the much-debated questions of their date of compo-
sition, the identity of W. H. to whom they are dedicated,
or of the rival poet or the dark lady, we have not space to
enter. It seems reasonable to assume that the greater part
of the sonnets were composed when the other sequences were
appearing, that is, before 1598, the year in which Francis
Meres mentioned Shakespeare's "sugared sonnets among his
private friends." Whatever their date, we must judge this
sonnet collection in the light of the ones we have already
discussed.
[ We have seen that the sonnet sequences consist largely of
imitations and translations ; that the poets followed each
other, contented to sing the same theme with but slight
variation. In the case of Shakespeare we can not point to
such open borrowings from the Italian or the French as we
find in Lodge, or Daniel, or Spenser, yet it has been main-
tained that he conformed to the fashion of the times and
though many sonnets have such intensity of expression that
they apparently show us the writer, they are no more a self-
revelation than is Browning's Dramatis Persona. Beyond
dispute there is a purely conventional element in the sonnets.
We have sonnets on sleep, on night, on absence from the
loved one, on beauty and its power, on lust ; we have the
customary promise of immortality in the poet's verses ; we
descend to the most insipid and uninspired conceits — the
dullest Petrarchian has never written poorer ones — in the
debates between the heart and the eyes.^ Though the son-
nets end with two translations of a Greek epigram, their
debt to the classics is a remarkably small one ; we have no
gods and goddesses and we escape the inevitable Prome-
theus. When all is said and done, when we have made every
allowance for the poetic tendencies of the day which must
have impressed Shakespeare who lived so intensely in his
1 Sonnets, Nos. xxiv, xlvl, xlvii. Debates between the eye and the
heart go back to the troubadours.
THE ELIZABETHAN LYRIC 171
age, these poems have a tone that absolutely differentiates
them from the other collections. It is not alone their style
or their thought, it is a certain personal touch. We can not
but believe that the unscholarly reader who thinks he dis-
cerns in the sonnets something of the writer is nearer the
truth than the critic who regards them as purely objective
works of art.
Coming to the sonnets after a long reading of Italian and
French sequences, we notice that Shakespeare employs new
themes. From the time of Dante, sonneteers addressed their
friends in praise, in counsel, in reproof, but there is nothing
imitative in Shakespeare's first seventeen sonnets. Written
to a young man, they all have the same theme : he must
marry that his beauty may live on in a child. With an
artist's instinct, Shakespeare praises his patron's beauty
until we see before us some young nobleman, painted by
Van Dyck with such delicacy that we take the portrait to
be that of a girl. No other sequences offer parallels for the
episode of the rival poet or for that series depicting the
darker side of life, the theft of the poet's mistress by his
friend. Such unconventional poems are not mere imitative
exercises in the sonnet form. It is harder to believe that the
sonnets against the "black lady" are vituperative, inserted
as a foil to the "sugared" writing, than that they shadow
some actual experience. If we discover in other collections
sonnets that express, as do Shakespeare's, doubt and dis-
couragement or gratitude for friendship and help, we must
remember that a writer may speak sincerely in conventional
phrase. In the tragic climax of her life, when Eloisa took
the veil, she turned to bid Abelard farewell. Her last word
was not a simple, heart-moving phrase in her mother tongue ;
it was a quotation from Lucan's Pharsalia! In Shakes-
peare's own day, Tichbome, facing death at the block for
his conspiracy against Elizabeth, laments his end in a string
of conceits :
112 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" My prime of youth is but a frost of cares;
My feast of joy is but a dish of pain;
My crop of corn is but a field of tares;
And all my good is but vain hope of gain;
The day is fled, and yet I saw no sun,
And now I live, and now my life is done."'^
In the sonnets of Ronsard there is much that is purely imita-
tive of the Italians, yet his latest and best biographer finds
in these very poems unmistakable accents of personal emo-
tion and believes that many of them have their roots deep in
the poet's hfe. We must not rule Shakespeare's sonnets out
of court because we can match phrases in them with similar
ones in other writers. As Faguet has expressed it : "Un
humaniste pleure sincerement un etre cher avec une remi-
niscence classique, comme un devot le pleure profondement
avec une citation des livres saints.""
Though we admit that Shakespeare's sonnets do not un-
lock his heart, they disclose certain aspects of his mind,
certain traits of character. We know that he was deeply
devoted to a youth whose patronage and friendship rescued
him from dejection; we learn that for a time he considered
himself surpassed and supplanted in this patron's favor by a
better writer : we hear him mourning his loss of caste, for
while Sidney is proud of his birth and accomplishments,
Shakespeare, the actor, feels that his name has received a
brand and that he had made himself a motley to the view.
He believes that the inheritor of heaven's graces is the man
"unmoved, cold, and to temptation slow," and yet (the
tragedy of the sonnets) he can not follow his own doctrine.
]\Iost significant of all is the fact that the supreme artist
1 Hannah, p. 114. These verses were set to music by Mundy, Este,
and Allison.
2 Paul Laumonier, Ronsard PoHe Li/rique, Paris, 1909, pp. 467-477.
This is a most important passage for the interpretation of Ronsard's
sonnets, and I believe it sheds light on Shakespeare's worlf.
THE ELIZABETHAN LYRIC 173
in English verse felt the same bitter discouragement that
overtakes the poorest craftsman. We think of a great
genius as a man self-reliant and confident, conscious of his
power and cheered by his work; yet there were times when
Shakespeare felt that the world was bent to cross his deeds;
he had no hope, no friends; he descended to such depths of
discouragement that he felt shamed by his writings and
actually longed for "this man's art, and that man's scope."
It will be objected that these are but moods which give us no
clue to the poet's philosophy of life; that we know more of
Shelley from a single sonnet, Ozymandias, or of Wordsworth
from "The world is too much with us." It is true that these
glimpses are tantalizingly brief, but where else in all Shakes-
peare's works do we see him more clearly?
There is danger of missing the artistic import of the son-
nets in discussions of their autobiographic value, as if we
should spend our time endeavoring to identify the portraits
in a group by Franz Hals instead of admiring the artist's
technique. Looking at the workmanship of these poems we
are at once struck by that gift of language and that phrasal
power which is as marvellous as the delineation of character
in the plays, if we may compare small things with great. In
a deprecatory mood, Shakespeare declared that
" every word doth almost tell my name.
Showing their birth and where they did proceed."^
This is true, for if the sonnets had been published anony-
mously, their language alone would have proved Shakes-
peare's authorship. His phrases are not curiously wrought
out, as are the similes of the metaphysical poets, but the
"thought seems of itself to find perfect utterance. Many a
sonneteer has written "When you are old," or "When your
beauty fades," but Shakespeare writes
1 No. Ixxvi.
17^ ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" When forty winters shall besiege thy brow.
And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field."
It was a common regret that winter destroys the joy of
summer, but the commonplace is transformed in Shakes-
peare's
" O, how shall summer's honey breath hold out
Against the wreckful siege of battering days."
Many a Petrarchist had declared that glory passes, but the
thought becomes new in
" The painful warrior, famoused for fight.
After a thousand victories once foiled,
Is from the book of honour razed quite.
And all the rest forgot for which he toiled."'
His creative power seems inexhaustible. He writes a sonnet
urging his friend to marry and then repeats the same thought
with variations for sixteen sonnets, and we feel that he could
have continued indefinitely. Even when a sonnet as a whole
reveals some imperfection, some weak line, it is usually re-
deemed by a splendid phrase ; and if we take individual
verses, we find here many of the treasures of the language,
as when he speaks of the sun as
" Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy,"
or
" Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,"
or
" Ah, yet doth beauty, like a dial-hand.
Steal from his figure, and no pace perceived;"
or
" How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea
Whose action is no stronger than a flower.''"^
1 Nos. 11, Ixv, XXV.
2 Nos. xxxlil, xviii, civ, Ixv.
THE ELIZABETHAN LYRIC 175
The range of the sonnets is equally wonderful. Keats
was nourished on them, as not only his letters but his own
sonnets show. There are many of Shakespeare's lines which
anticipate the sweetness, the sensuousness that we associate
with the work of the poet of Endymion •}
" Our love was new, and then but in the Spring,
When I was wont to greet it with my lays ;
As Philomel in Summer's front doth sing.
And stops her pipe in growth of riper days.
Not that the Summer is less pleasant now
Than when her mournful hymns did hush the night.
But that wild music burthens every bough.
And sweets grown common lose their dear delight."
From this passage we turn to the sonnet
" When I have seen by Time's fell hand defaced
The rich-proud cost of outworn buried age;"
or to
" Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments,"
and we have a largeness of style, a firmness of expression
that show us how broad an effect may be gained by fourteen
lines.^ The more we examine the sonnets, the more we are
astonished at their variety, a quaHty not to be found in the
other sequences of the day. We have the feeble quibbles on
"Will" and "will," and the perfection of a simile in
" Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore.
So do our minutes hasten to their end.''
1 See his letter to Reynolds, November 22, 1817. Finch wrote Gis-
borne, "the poetical volume, which was the inseparable companion of
Keats, and which he took for his most darling model in composition, was
the Minor Poems of Shakespeare.''
2 Nos. cii, Ixiv, cxvi.
lie ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
When we read
" Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war,
How to divide the conquest of thy sight;
Mine eye my heart thy picture's sight would bar,
My heart mine eye the freedom of that right."
we seem by the awkward, ambiguous, unmusical expression,
as well as by the triviality of the conceit to be reading some
poetaster of the Cinquecento. We turn to
" That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold.
Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang,"
and we have the mood, the subdued coloring that appeals so
strongly to us to-day, the grays and the blacks, the quiet
tones of a modern etching ; few sonnets have more completely
expressed this phase of our modem thought.^ Antique and
modern; sublime and absurd; idealistic and sensual (Hallam
wished that certain of the sonnets had never seen the light) ;
confident and weary of the world ; from the very lack of
uniformity in their contrasted moods, in their emotional
inconsistency, these poems have the infinite variety of human
character. In one of his finest moments Shakespeare wrote
" The earth can have but earth, which is his due;
My spirit is thine, the better part of me:"
and it is that spirit, as well as the hand of the artist, that
we feel in these writings. Wordsworth undoubtedly over-
stated the case when he asserted
" With this same key Shakespeare unlocked his heart "
but he was strictly within the truth when he declared that
"in no part of the writings of this poet is found, in equal
compass, a greater number of exquisite feelings felicitously
expressed."
1 Nos. Ix, xlvi, Ixxiii.
THE ELIZABETHAN LYRIC 177
III
We shall now retrace our steps and consider the miscella-
neous lyrics of the sonneteers. Sidney has left a large num-
ber of lyrics, but unfortunately many of them are so plainly
uninspired, so thoroughly artificial, that they detract from
his reputation as a poet. This is the result of his Quixotic
attempt to regenerate English poetry by inducing his con-
temporaries to abandon completely English metres for
classical verse forms, a plan as impossible as the one he
advocated for the English stage — the rigid observance of the
three unities. Desperate diseases need desperate remedies,
and when we consider the condition of English poetry as
shown by such writers as Googe and Turberville we can par-
tially understand Sidney's attitude. For a time at least
this classic imitation attracted even Spenser. Gabriel Har-
vey of Cambridge, conceited, pedantic, without a touch of
poetic ability, was the most enthusiastic member of this
group; he desired it to be stated on his tombstone that he
had composed hexameters in English! To write in classical
metres has been an interesting pastime with our poets from
Milton to Tennyson, but this was a serious undertaking, an
attempt to change the whole genius of our verse. In 1579
Spenser writes to Harvey: "[Master Sidney and Master
Dyer] have proclaimed in their Areopagus a general sur-
ceasing and silence of bald rhymers Instead whereof
they have by authority of their whole senate prescribed
certain laws and rules of quantities of English syllables for
English verse .... and drawn me to their faction I
am, of late, more in love with my English versifying than
with rhyming." He enclosed in this letter an example of
iambic trimeter, of which the following is a fair specimen :
" If in bed, tell her that my eyes can take no rest;
If at hoaxA, tell her that my mouth can eat no meat;
If at her virginals, tell her I can hear no mirth.
178 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
Asked why? say: waking love suffereth no sleep;
Say that raging love doth appal the weak stomach;
Say that lamenting love marreth the musical."^
These impossible lines (it is hard to believe that Spenser
wrote them in all seriousness) Harvey gravely criticises,
finding fault with the length of certain syllables, for Sidney
had helped to frame some "rules and precepts of English
verse." Spenser soon saw the futility of all this and the
next year he is calling the English hexameter "a lame gosling
that draweth one leg after her" ; but Sidney was quite com-
mitted to this reform and carried it further than any of his
friends. In the Arcadia he has given us a number of experi-
ments in classical measures — and all are poor. The hexa-
meter alone has met with some degree of success, partly
because its rhythm is so strongly accentuated, partly because
it bears a certain resemblance to our blank verse, yet neither
Longfellow's Evangeline nor Clough's Bothie of Tober-Na-
Vuolich has succeeded in popularizing it. In all these metri-
cal experiments of Sidney's we do not find one good poem,
anything, for example, to compare with Campion's
" Rose-cheeked Laura, come;
Sing thou smoothly with thy beauty's
Silent music, either other
Sweetly gracing,"
though even this is not a masterpiece. Sidney's best known
and simplest song,
" My true love hath my heart, and I have his,"
is worth all his "reformed verse."
Published with Astrophel and Stella are a number of songs,
of which two seem to throw light on the situation depicted
in certain of the sonnets, for they show Lady Rich as much
1 R. Morris, The Complete Works of Edmund Spenser, London, 1886,
pp. 706-707.
THE ELIZABETHAN LYRIC 179
in love as Sidney, but restrained by a fear of the ruin that
would overwhelm them both did she yield/ His best two
lyrics appeared in the 1598 edition of his works. The first
is written to "the tune of Non credo gia che piu infehce
amante," for which he also composed another unmusical
song, filled with trivial conceits. Here he employs his irreg-
ular metre with skill, though the effect is a Uttle too much
that of three superimposed stanzas, rather than of an
organic whole :
" The Nightingale — as soon as April bringeth
Unto her rested sense, a perfect waking;
While late bare earth, proud of new clothing, springeth —
Sings out her woes, a thorn her song book making.
And mournfully bewailing.
Her throat in tunes expresseth
What grief her breast oppresseth
For Tereus' force, on her chaste will prevailing.
O Philomela fair ! O take some gladness
That here is juster cause of plaintful sadness.
Thine earth now springs, mine fadeth;
Thy thorn without, my thorn my heart invadeth."
The second opens with a strain of pessimism that reminds us
of Raleigh's Lie, though not so vigorous :
" Ring out your bells ! let mourning shows be spread.
For love is dead.
All love is dead, infected
With the plague of deep disdain;
Worth as nought worth rejected.
And fair, fair scorn doth gain.
From so ungrateful fancy.
From such a female frenzy.
From them that use men thus.
Good Lord deliver us!"
1 Lee, op. cit., vol. I, pp. 70, 79.
180 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
It is a misfortune that the other stanzas in the poem are
marred by such trivial conceits as :
" For Love is dead.
Sir Wrong his tomb ordaineth,
My mistress' marble heart;
Which epitaph containeth
'Her eyes were once his dart.' "^
The sonnets are Sidney's best lyrics.
The pubKcation of Spenser's Shepherd's Calendar in 1579
marked a new era in English poetry. The little book is a
series of pastorals, frankly artificial as nearly all pastorals
are ; it shows the influence of the classics, of Italian and
French verse, and of Chaucer. It possessed the very quah-
ties that English poetry lacked — spirit and feeling, a love
of color and music, a sense of form. Here was the long
expected "new poet" ; in the midst of description or dialogue,
a fresh lyric note is heard:
" See, where she sits upon the grassy green,
(O seemly sight!)
Yclad in scarlet^ like a maiden Queen,
And ermines white:
Upon her head a crimson coronet
With damask roses and daff adillies set :
Bay leaves between.
And primroses green.
Embellish the sweet violet."^
This is written "in praise of Eliza, Queen of the Shepherds,"
but we might almost take this "fourth Grace," crowned with
flowers, dancing "deifly" and singing "soote," to be the Muse
of the new lyric.
Spenser at once declares himself a musician and above all
an artist. We wonder not only at the great beauty of Tus-
iPp. Ill, 133.
2 The Shepherd's Calendar, April.
THE ELIZABETHAN LYRIC 181
can art of the Renaissance, but at the incredible number of
masterpieces produced in that httle duchy. After all that
has been lost by fire and by plunder, in addition to the treas-
ures preserved at Florence, we find the works of Tuscan
artists in every gallery of the world. Compared with such
achievement, modern art appears weak and even sterile. At
this period, when all Europe felt the influence of the new art,
England did not produce a single masterpiece of painting
or of sculpture; the artistic genius of the nation found its
expression in poetry. Carpaccio paints on the walls of San
Georgio degli Schiavoni at Venice the story of St. George
and the dragon ; Spenser paints it in the Faerie Queene. He
had the artist's love for form and shading ; leaving to others
to depict in the lyric the conflicts of passion, he brought to
English song the desire for beauty.
Spenser's Epithalamion was published in 1595 with the
Amoretti; the Prothalamion and the four Hymns appeared
the following year. The latter poems explain so much of his
spirit that we shall consider them first.
Spenser had become a thorough-going Platonist at Cam-
bridge, and his Hymns are the best exposition in English
verse of the Platonic conception of Love and Beauty. To
understand them we must read Plato's Phadrus and Sym-
posium; the Latin commentary on the Symposium written
by Marsilio Ficino, head of the Platonist academy at Flor-
ence and "the chief exponent of Platonism for the whole
of the Italian Renaissance"; and Bruno's treatise De gV
heroici furori, written in England and published with a
dedication to Sidney in 1585.^ A study of these works will
show that the first two hymns, on Love and on Beauty, have
practically no originality of thought. Following Plato,
iSee Introduction to L. Winstanley's Edmund Spenser: The Fowre
Hymnes, Cambridge, 1907. Cf. J. S. Harrison, Platonism in English
Poetry of the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries, N. Y., 1903; J. B.
Fletcher, op. cit., p. 116, also Publ. Mod. Lang. Assoc, September, 1911.
182 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
Spenser sings of a love that all "sordid baseness doth expell"
for it is "gentle, loyal, true" — an emanation from God him-
self:
" For love is lord of truth and loyalty^
Lifting himself out of the lowly dust
On golden plumes up to the purest sky.
Above the reach of loathly sinful lust."^
Our souls lived in heaven before they descended to this earth.
They can remember but faintly their first abode because the
"shades of the prison house begin to close" too soon around
us ; nevertheless they have shadovcy memories of it and the
thrill, the awe which we feel in the presence of beauty is our
soul's recognition of the heavenly in the earthly type.
Beauty, then, is a manifestation of the divine ; it presents
itself to our keenest sense, sight; it is the one thing on this
earth that approaches the heavenly nature ; and the rapture
of love it inspires is simply the recognition of the divinity in
man:
" Hath white and red in it such wondrous power,
That it can pierce through the eyes unto the heart,"
he asks, and bursts forth in the most famous passage in the
Hymns :
" So every spirit, as it is most pure.
And hath in it the more of heavenly light.
So it the fairer body doth procure
To habit in, and it more fairly dight
With cheerful grace and amiable sight;
For of the soul the body form doth take.
For soul is form, and both the body make."^
Our quotations have shown that the idealism of this
beauty worship is expressed with a lyric intensity ; the poems
are indeed "Hymns." How far removed they are from the
1 Hymn in honour of Love, 11. 176-179.
2 Hymn in honour of Beauty, 11. 71-73, 127-133.
THE ELIZABETHAN LYRIC 183
verse essays of the eighteenth century ! One can imagine how
Pope would have treated the following passage in an Essay
on Love and Beauty :
" Sometimes upon her forehead they behold
A thousand Graces masking in delight;
Sometimes within her eye-lids they unfold
Ten thousand sweet belgards, which to their sight
Do seem like twinkling stars in frosty night.""^
That Spenser's conscience should have been troubled by
his first two hymns is rather surprising, for nothing could
be further removed from
" Lust in the robes of Love,
The idle talk of feverish souls,"
than these poems ; his Puritan conscience saved him from the
paganism that pervaded so much of the Renaissance writ-
ings. However, to make amends for what he considered to
be a fault, his last two hymns sing of heavenly love, Christ's
sacrifice and death. Here, in this more exalted form, we meet
again the early religious lyric:
" Begin from first, where he encradled was,
In simple cratch, wrapt in a wad of hay.
Between the toilful ox and humble ass.
And in what rags, and in how base array.
The glory of our heavenly riches lay,
When him the silly shepherds came to see,
Whom greatest princes sought on lowest knee."^
The four hymns, interesting as they are, do not rise to the
level of the marriage odes. Of these, the Prothalamion is
the better known, for the modern reader, who shows himself
impatient of lengthy descriptions in the novel or play, is
wearied with the wealth of detail in the Epithalamion. Both
poems are among the most musical pieces of writing in our
ILI. 253-359.
2 Hymn m honour of Heavenly Love, 11. 325-231.
18^. ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
literature and Spenser has not only caught the rhythm, the
flow of the Italian canzone, but he has equalled its verbal
melody. Lowell says that the chief originality of Gray's
Elegy is in the skilful use of the vowel sounds :
" The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea,"
but Spenser surely knew this secret:
" Calm was the day, and through the trembling air
Sweet-breathing Zephyrus did softly play."
Each line, exquisite in itself, seems to rise or fall with the
poet's thought like a wave advancing and retreating, while
to this highly wrought art form is added the refrain, the
device of the earHer popular song:
" Sweet Thames, run softly till I end my song."
If we admire the technique of the verse, the substance equally
claims our attention. We have a picture such as Botticelli
might have painted: the silver swans floating down the
crystal Thames ; the nymphs, "all lovely daughters of the
flood," each with her
" little wicker basket
Made of fine twigs, entrayled curiously,"
scattering flowers through which the birds pass along. If
hitherto there had been no such music in the English lyric,
there had been no such description of pure beauty. As the
Florentines painted their own portraits among the kneeling
saints or in the train of some prince, so Spenser draws himself
unostentatiously in a few strokes. We see him, wearied with
his
" long fruitless stay
In princes' court,"
walking along the shore to ease his pain.
Despite popular opinion, the Epithalamion is the greater
THE ELIZABETHAN LYRIC 185
achievement. Written for his own wedding, the poem glows
with the poet's happiness; its enthusiasm as much as its
inherent poetic value instantly separates it from the formal
and flattering epithalamia of the period. The descriptions
are not over ornate for their purpose, and they are a part
of the very life of the poem. All that Spenser loved is here —
music from the birds, from the minstrels, from the damsels
who
"dance and carol sweet";
flowers in profusion; and the highest beauty in the bride,
whose soul, he tells us, is still more fair. In his Envoi, Spen-
ser regrets that he must send this song to her "in lieu of many
ornaments," but no bride ever received a gift as enduring
as this "endless monument."
Before leaving these poems it is well to notice how far
removed their spirit is from our own. Our eyes have been
trained to see the shadows; Nature no longer sings a song
of pure joy, for with Shelley we hear the winds
" Moan for the world's wrong."
What a contrast between Spenser's London with its clear
river and its flower gardens, and the city seen by a modem
poet:
" I see the loafer-burnished wall ;
I hear the rotting match-girl whine ;
I see the unslept switchman fall;
I hear the explosion in the mine;
I see along the heedless street
The sandwichmen trudge through the mire;
I hear the tired, quick tripping feet
Of sad, gay girls who ply for hire."^
The beauty we see or dream eludes us ; we never reach it,
for our aim exceeds our grasp. We feel in its presence not
iJohn Davidson, St. George's Day in Fleet Street Eclogues, second
186 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
the joy of Spenser, but a certain discouragement, a certain
pathos, for to us beauty is brief lived; it fades and passes,
but for Spenser beauty was something to be seized as one
might gather flowers by the handfuls. It was near him
everywhere ; he had only to stretch forth his hand. So with
spiritual beauty, for the Platonists believed that the soul
may be disciplined until it actually beholds before it Wisdom
and Truth embodied. The art of these wedding odes is all
the more admirable because it is a lost one.
Apart from his sonnets Drayton has left a considerable
number of odes, but they form a very small portion of his
work compared with his Heroical Epistles, Barons' Wars, and
Polyolbion (Mr. Bullen estimates that he has written sixty
thousand lines of poetry). The lyric impulse was not strong
in him, and he preferred narrative or descriptive verse. He
published, in 1606, Poems Lyric and Pastoral, in which are
found his Odes. He asks himself why he may not
" Th' old lyric kind revive,"
but his odes are not the larger type of the lyric which we
generally associate with that title. They have nothing of the
ampler music of Spenser's Hymns, but are rather Horatian
in spirit, if not in style. Drayton tells us that in writing
them a poet must have a quick invention, and a nimble rhyme ;
we see his conception of an ode in liis Virginian Voyage
which tells of a marvellous land that produces
" Without your toil.
Three harvests more,
All greater than your wish."
where grows
" The cedar reaching high
To kiss the sky.
The cypress, pine
And useful sassafras."
THE ELIZABETHAN LYRIC 187
He does not forget that the laurel is found there :
" Apollo's sacred tree^
You may it see,
A poet's brows
To crown, that may sing there."''
Unfortunately for his prophecy, the poetic laurel is not con-
spicuously worn in America.
Of the other lyrics, To His Coy Love has that easy, degage
air which we noted in some of his sonnets, while the Shep-
herd's Sirena, though too long, has an unusually attractive
Hit and is worth whole books of the Polyolbion. Apart from
his finest sonnet, Drayton's greatest lyrical achievement is
his ballad of Agincourt. He composed this with the utmost
care, making many revisions to good advantage, for cer-
tainly it is the most stirring war song written in that martial
age:
" Fair stood the wind for France,
When we our sails advance.
Nor now to prove our chance,
Longer will tarry;
But putting to the main.
At Caux, the mouth of Seine,
With all his martial train
Landed King Harry."
It has all the swiftness of the old ballads and we have nothing
to equal its gaudia certaminis until we come to Scott. The
spirit never flags from the opening lines to the closing appeal
of the last stanza:
" O when shall English men
With such acts fill a pen.
Or England breed again
Such a King Harry ?"^
1 C. Brett, Minor Poems of Michael Drayton, Oxford, 1907, pp. 71-73.
2 P. 81.
188 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
It is curious that Drayton, who never trailed a pike in the
army and whose Muse was as gentle as his own nature, should
have caught, better than any of his contemporaries in the
lyric, the martial fervor.
There is less of the song element in Daniel than in Dray-
ton. His lyrics have the smoothness and melody which we
found in his sonnets, but there is no personaUty or force in
them. He uses irregular metres skillfully and his lines on
the "happy golden age" have something of Spenser's style.^
In his plays and masques he has introduced a few choruses
and songs, but they are uninteresting ; they lack quaHty ;
the lyrics do not overflow naturally as they do in the masques
of the period. Only one song (strangely entitled a chorus)
in Hymen's Triumph is worthy of the EHzabethan lyric, and
unfortunately Daniel nowhere else repeats this note:
" Love is a sickness full of woes^
All remedies refusing:
A plant that with most cutting grows,
Most barren with best using.
Why so?
More we enjoy it, more it dies;
If not enjoyedj it sighing cries.
Hey ho !"'
Thomas Lodge, in his prose romances, Rosalynde, 1590,
and Margarite of America, 1596, introduces, as was the
custom of the age, a number of lyrics. Two of these, both
in Rosalynde, are among the best of the period, and are
Lodge's chief claim for remembrance as a poet. In Rosalynde
we have the beauty worship, the sensuousness of Renaissance
art, expressed in the most musical verse that Lodge has
written :
1 See A. B. Grosart, The Complete Works of Samuel Daniel, London,
1885-1896, vol. I, p. 260.
2 Vol. Ill, p. 349.
THE ELIZABETHAN LYRIC 189
" Like to the clear in highest sphere
Where all imperial glory shines.
Of selfsame colour is her hair
Whether unfolded or in twines :
Heigh ho, fair Rosalynde!
Her eyes are sapphires set in snow.
Refining heaven by every wink;
The gods do fear whenas they glow.
And I do tremble when I think:
Heigh ho, would she were mine !"
Here is a canvas glowing with light. The other song is
more restrained in its description but is equally melodic:
" Love in my bosom like a bee
Doth suck his sweet:
Now with his wings he plays with me,
Now with his feet.
Within mine eyes he makes his nest.
His bed amidst my tender breast.
My kisses are his daily feast;
And yet he robs me of my rest:
Ah ! wanton, will ye !"^
Many of Lodge's songs have been traced to foreign
sources ; he tells us himself that some of the lyrics in the
Margarite of America are taken from Pascale, Dolce, Mar-
telli, Desportes, and it is quite possible these songs may not
be entirely his own composition.
With the exception of Shakespeare, whose lyrics we shall
consider with those of the dramatists, we have examined the
lyrics of the sonneteers. We have by no means exhausted
the list of lyric writers, but before coming to the lyrics of
the drama and the song books, we have space to consider but
1 Complete Works of Thomas Lodge, Bunterian Club, Glasgow, 1883,
vol. I, pp. 64, 11. The best of Lodge's lyrics have been reprinted in A. H.
BuUen's Lyrics from the Elizabethan Romances, London, 1890.
190 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
three more poets — Breton, Southwell and Raleigh, and we
could hardly choose three men more radically different in
their characters. Nicholas Breton (1545?;1626?), the step-
son of Gascoigne, lived by his pen. He was a fluent, grace-
ful writer, both of verse and prose, but he was diffuse.
He wrote too much, for while he has "a pretty flowery and
pastoral gale of fancy," to quote Phillips's unsympathetic
criticism of Herrick, there is little thought or deep feeling
in his poetry. He is a skillful metrist, using the octosyllabic
couplet well, and parts of his Passionate Shepherd (1604)
remind us of the nature descriptions in L' Allegro. A typical
song is his madrigal which won the favor of Elizabeth. It
begins
" In the merry month of May,
In a morn by break of day.
Forth I walked by the wood side,
Whenas May was in his pride:
There I spyed all alone,
Phillida and Cory don.
Much ado there was, God wot !
He would love, and she would not."'
"On Wednesday morning about nine o'clock, as her Majesty
opened the casement of her gallery window, there were three
excellent musicians, who being disguised in ancient country
attire, did greet her with a pleasant song of Corydon and
Phillida, made in three parts of purpose. The song, as well
for the worth of the ditty as the aptness of the note thereto
applied, it pleased Her Highness after it had been once sung
to command again, and highly to grace it with her cheerful
acceptance and commendation. It was entitled The Plow-
man's Song 'in the merry month of May.' "^ Breton's fame
1 See A. B. Grosart, Works of Nicholas Breton, London, 1879, vol.
I, t. p. 7. Bullen, op. cit., reprints a number of Breton's lyrics.
2 T. Oliphant, La Musa Madrigalesca, London, 1837, p. 204.
THE ELIZABETHAN LYRIC 191
may rest on the lullaby in his Arbour of Amorous Devices
(1597), a song of a deserted mother quieting the
" Poor soul that thinks no creature harm."
The pathos is sincere and not overemphasized; the whole
poem is worthy of Blake at his best :
" And dost thou smile ? O, thy sweet face !
Would God himself he might thee see !
No doubt thou wouldst soon purchase grace,
I know right well, for thee and me:
But come to mother, babe, and play.
For father false is fled away."
One of the most affecting touches is the mother's pride in the
man who has left her:
" Thy father is no rascal lad,
A noble youth of blood and bone:
His glancing looks, if he once smile.
Right honest women may beguile."'^
The poems of Robert Southwell (1561 .''-1595), the Jesuit
martyr, were published posthumously the year of his execu-
tion at Tyburn. That he had intended to print them is
shown by his preface and they were undoubtedly put in order
and partly composed during his three years' imprisonment.^
They thus possess a melancholy interest and it is hardly
surprising that critics have allowed their sympathy for the
man to bias their judgment of his poetry.
Southwell is the one religious poet of the age. Nearly
all the lyrists (Breton, for example, whom we have just con-
sidered) wrote religious songs or paraphrases, but South-
well's whole body of verse is religious, written partly in pro-
test against the love poems of the day. In his preface he
1 Grosart, Breton, vol. I, d. p. 7.
2 A. B. Grosart, Complete Poems of Robert Southwell, London, 1872,
Introduction.
192 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
regrets that poetry has been degraded by the amorists, and
appearing at the time of the sonnet sequences, these lines
sound strangely:
" O women! woe to men; traps for their falls;
Still actors in all tragical mischances ;
Earth's necessary evils, captivating thralls.
Now murdering with your tongues, now with your glances ;
Parents of life and love, spoilers of both;
The thieves of hearts ; false, do you love or loathe."^
Thus, in Love's servile lot, he writes of Love's mistress :
" A honey shower rains from her lips.
Sweet lights shine in her face;
She hath the blush of virgin mind.
The mind of viper's race.
" May never was the month of love.
For May is full of flowers;
But rather April, wet by kind, (nature)
For love is full of showers.
" Plow not the seas, sow not the sands.
Leave oiF your idle pain;
Seek other mistress for your minds.
Love's service is in vain."^
Though he dislikes the substance of the sonneteers, he
imitates their manner, and no Petrarchist has ever given us
more extravagant conceits that has Southwell in describing
the eyes of Christ. He compares them to sweet volumes,
nectared ambrys (larders for alms) of soul-feeding meats,
quivers of love darts, blazing comets, living mirrors, pools
of Hesebon, turtle-twins, and Bethlehem-cisterns.' Crashaw,
1 P. 24.
2 Pp. 78-81.
3 From St. Peter's Complaint, as is the following stanza (cxxi).
THE ELIZABETHAN LYRIC 193
in his descriptions of the Magdalene's eyes, could not outdo
this. His lines on sleep have a familiar ring:
' Sleep, death's ally, oblivion of tears.
Silence of passions, balm of angry sore,
Suspense of loves, security of fears.
Wrath's lenitive, heart's ease, storm's calmest shore ;
Senses' and souls' reprieval from all cumbers.
Benumbing sense of ill, with quiet slumbers."
The best poems of Southwell are the songs on the Nativity
and those which describe his own feelings — his longing for
death. Jonson, not an easy critic to please, was delighted
with Southwell's Burning Babe, and A Child my choice or
New Prince, new Pomp is nearly as good. In his personal
poems we at last hear a man's own voice. The homely
objects, the simple style of the following stanza are extremely
effective and form a sharp contrast to his conceits :
" The gown which I do use to wear.
The knife wherewith I cut my meat,
And eke that old and ancient chair
Which is my only usual seat:
All these do tell me I must die,
And yet my life amend not I."^
His poem / die alive is not a masterpiece of poetic ex-
pression but it possesses what so much of the smooth writing
of the age lacked — sincerity, for it is the cry of a man, worn
out by imprisonment and torture :
" O life ! what lets thee from a quick decease ?
O death ! what draws thee from a present prey ?
My feast is done, my soul would be at ease.
My grace is said; O death, come take away."^
1 P. 156, U'pon the image of Death.
2 P. 84.
19i ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
The poems of Sir Walter Raleigh (1552P-1618) contain
some of the strongest writing of the age. As befitted his
nature, he is at his best in the short, vigorous expression of
stirring emotion. His most characteristic work is rough-
hewn and lacks grace, but it possesses individuality and
character. He could write in the flowing song style of the
day
" Conceit begotten by the eyes.
Is quickly born and quickly dies;"
he composed the best commendatory sonnet for the Faerie
Queene, which critic after critic believes inspired Milton's
" Methought I saw my late espoused saint "
merely because the first three words in each sonnet are the
same ; and he could write love songs in which an engaging
directness of diction takes the place of sonneteering compH-
ment:
" Silence in love bewrays more woe
Than words, though ne'er so witty:
A beggar that is dumb, you know.
May challenge double pity.""^
Two of his lyrics are remarkable ; they are as distinctly
original as Donne's, though different in quality. In the Lie,
the most pessimistic lyric of the age, Raleigh bitterly
arraigns the times ; all about him is rotten to the core ;
church and state, court and college, high and low, all is
corruption. It is the mood of Hamlet expressed with the
intensity of Hotspur :
" Say to the court, it glows
And shines like rotten wood;
Say to the church, it shows
What's good and doth no good:
If church and court reply.
Then give them both the lie.
1 Hannah, op. cit., pp. 22, 8, 21.
THE ELIZABETHAN LYRIC 195
" Tell fortune of her blindness ;
Tell nature of decay;
Tell friendship of unkindness;
Tell justice of delay;
And if they will reply,
Then give them all the lie !"^
It is small wonder that such a poem called forth numerous
rejoinders and imitations. Raleigh returns to the charge
in his Give me my scallop-shell of quiet, where he writes of
" heaven's bribeless hall.
Where no corrupted voices brawl;
No conscience molten into gold.
No forged accuser bought or sold.
No cause deferred, no vain-spent journey,
For there Christ is the king's attorney.
Who pleads for all without degrees.
And he hath angels, but no fees."^
Whether or not his dirge of eight lines,
" Even such is Time, that takes in trust
Our youth, our joys, our all we have,"
was composed, as a tradition runs, the night before his execu-
tion, he wrote it when he knew that the end of his imprison-
ment was "the dark and silent grave," and for pure pathos,
it has few equals.
Many of the lyrics which we have quoted appeared in the
various Miscellanies of the period and we must briefly review
these successors to TotteVs Miscellany. It will be remem-
bered that Tottel published his book in 1557 ; and it was not
until 1576 that a new anthology appeared, the Paradise of
Dainty Devices. In the dedication of this collection of songs,
we are informed that the "ditties" are "both pithy and pleas-
1 P. 24. The poem first appears in MS. Harl. 6910, circ. 1596.
2 P. 38.
196 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
ant, as well for the invention as metre, and will yield a far
greater delight, being as they are so aptly made to be set to
any song in five parts, or sung to instrument." The title
rightly declares that the book contains "pithy precepts,
learned counsels," for of the ninety-eight poems it offers,
forty-three may be classed as admonitory verse. There is
Kttle to be said for these poems, except that the age evidently
took as much delight in them as Georgian readers did in the
epigrams of Pope. Polonius' speech of advice to Laertes in
the first act of Hamlet is utterly inconsistent with his char-
acter, but it contained precisely the precepts that this gen-
eration enjoyed. It is curious to see these moral effusions
masquerading as songs. The following excerpt is from "a
worthy ditty sung before the Queen's Majesty at Bristowe":
" Mistrust not troth, that truly means, for every jealous freak;
Instead of wrong, condemn not right, no hidden wrath to
wreak :
Look on the light of faultless life, how bright her virtues
shine.
And measure out her steps each one, by level and by line."^
Of this whole collection only two songs, both by Richard
Edwards, have survived. The first, "Where griping grief
the heart would wound," is remembered because it is
quoted by Peter in Romeo and Juliet; the second, Amantiwm
Ira,
" In going to my naked bed as one that would have slept,
I heard a wife sing to her child, that long before had wept;"
has a naivete of expression, not without charm, that has won
for it a place in many modern anthologies.^
Of the ninety poems that compose the Gorgeous Gallery
of Gallant Inventions (1578), the greater part are anony-
1 See J. P. Collier's reprint, London, 1866, p. 44.
2 Pp. 89, 73.
THE ELIZABETHAN LYRIC 197
mous. Fully one third of the poems are moral admonitions
and many of the titles, such as "The Lover describeth his
painful plight," or "The Lover in great distress comforteth
himself with hope," are reminiscent of Tottel. The Paradise
of Dainty Devices contained no sonnets, but there are three
here, all mediocre. The collection is dreary reading; but
one song from it — ^the Willow song of Desdemona — has sur-
vived, and it is only occasionally that we come across such
a lyric outburst as A proper Ditty. To the time of Lusty
Gallant :
" The glittering shows of Flora's dames
Delights not so my careful! mind,
Ne gathering of the fragrant flames.
That oft in Flora's nymphs I find.
Ne all the notes of birds so shrill.
Melodiously in woods that sing.
Whose solemn quires the skies doth fill.
With note on note that heavenly ring."'-
The songs in the Handful of Pleasant Delights (1584) are
mostly anonymous and when they are ascribed to authors,
the names are not those that suggest immortal verse —
"P. Picks," "L. Gibson," or "a student in Cambridge."
The songs are written for certain tunes — "Green Sleeves,"
"All in a garden fair," "The merchant's daughter went over
the fields," or "To any pleasant tune," and while they have
an easy flowing metre, their poetic worth is small. It is
probable that Shakespeare had one song in mind, A Nose-
gay, with its "Lavender is for lovers true, Rosemary is for
remembrance, Violet is for faithfulness," when he wrote
Ophelia's flower scene in Hamlet.^
The Phoenix Nest (1593) included poems by Raleigh,
Breton, and Lodge, the last named contributing fifteen writ-
1 Corner's Reprint, London, 1866, p. 36.
2 See Arber's reprint in the English Scholar's Library, No. 3, Lon-
don, 1878, p. 3.
198 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
ten in fourteen different metres. There are fourteen sonnets,
all but five on the pains of love, of which the best. Those eyes
that set my fancy on a fire, is written with much spirit and
fervor :
" O eyes that pierce our hearts without remorse,
O hairs of right that wear a royal crown,
O hands that conquer more than Caesar's force,
O wit that turns huge kingdoms upside down I"
but as a whole the lyrics in this collection lack life. At their
best they have artistic touches in phrasing or description,
and their metrical charm is much more evident than any
sincerity of thought or feeling. There is a night piece which
is strikingly modern in its tone :
" Let sailors gaze on stars and moon so freshly shining.
Let them that miss the way be guided by the light,
I know my lady's bower, there needs no more divining,
AiFection sees in dark, and Love hath eyes by night,"
while the following well deserves to be remembered :
" Sweet violets. Love's paradise, that spread
Your gracious odours which you couched bear
Within your paley faces.
Upon the gentle wing of some calm breathing wind.
That plays amidst the plain.
If by the favour of propitious stars you gain
Such grace, as in my lady's bosom place to find.
Be proud to touch those places;
And when her warmth your moisture forth doth wear.
Whereby your dainty parts are sweetly fed.
Your honours of the flowery meads I pray.
You pretty daughters of the earth and sun,
With mild and seemly breathing straight display
My bitter sighs that have my heart undone."'^
1 See Collier's reprint, London, 1866, pp. 89, 120, 121. "Sweet violets"
appears again in England's Helicon.
THE ELIZABETHAN LYRIC 199
Of all the miscellanies, England's Helicon (1600) contains
the finest poetry.^ It is a collection of pastorals and lyrics
by the best writers of the day, W'atson, Sidney, Spenser,
Drayton, Lodge, and Breton, but it contains little new
material and the book calls for no further comment. The
selections have been made with discrimination, though for our
modern taste there is too much of the pastoral and we tire of
listening to the complaints of Tityrus and Thestilis, Corydon
and Corin.
The last of the Ehzabethan Miscellanies, Francis Davison's
Poetical Rhapsody, appeared in 1602.^ Although it contains
Raleigh's Lie and a series of sonnets by Watson, the collec-
tion has few lyrics ; a great number of the poems are by
unknown writers and are not in any way remarkable. In its
pastorals, in its translations from the Italian, the book is
thoroughly typical of the age; in poetic value, it is much
inferior to England's Helicon. It includes, however, a num-
ber of lyrics by a writer we have not mentioned — -Thomas
Campion — reminding us that we have yet to consider the
very flower of Elizabethan song, the lyrics in the drama and
in the song books.
IV
The miracle plays, the moralities and interludes, were
still witnessed in the early years of Elizabeth's reign. From
them the Elizabethans inherited not only the "law of
liberty" — freedom from the unities of the classic stage — but
equally important, the tradition of song in the drama. The
first playwrights did not emphasize this song element.
Robert Greene (1560P-1592) has but one song in his five
plays ; for his lyrics, we must read his prose tracts and
romances. His style was singularly sweet and plaintive;
1 See the reprint edited by A. H. BuUen, London, 1899.
2 See Bullen's reprint, London, 1890.
200 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
his wild life and his death in poverty and disgrace are in
sharp contrast to the peaceful note of his lyrics which are
marked not by outbursts of feeling, but by grace and
delicacy :
" Ahj what is love ? It is a pretty thing,
As sweet unto a shepherd as a king;
And sweeter too."
Read in the light of his restless career, there is the very
essence of tragic contrast in his song "Sweet are the thoughts
that savour of content."
" The homely house that harbours quiet rest;
The cottage that affords no pride nor care ;
The mean that grees with country music best;
The sweet consort of mirth and music's fare;
Obscured life sets down a type of bliss:
A mind content both crown and kingdom is."
His two best lyrics are his sonnet "Ah were she pitiful as she
is fair," which Martin Person set to music, and Sephestia's
song to her child, a counterpart to Breton's lullaby, with its
refrain :
" Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee ;
When thou art old there's grief enough for thee."^
George Peele (1658P-1597) introduces lyrics freely in his
dramatic compositions. David and Bethsabe opens with
singing; there are many snatches of song in his Old Wives
Tale; in his Arraignment of Paris we have a Latin song, an
ItaUan song, and the gay duet, "Fair and fair, and twice so
fair." "His golden locks Time hath to silver turned," the
lyric which Thackeray admired, is certainly his best one. It
was sung when Sir Henry Lea, master of the armory, bore
1 A. H. Bullen, Poems, chiefly lyrical from Romances and Prose
Tracts of the Elizabethan Age, London, 1890, pp. 23, 33, 15.
THE ELIZABETHAN LYRIC 201
arms for the last time in the yearly joust he had instituted in
the Queen's honor.^ As she sat in the royal pavilion she heard
strains of music, "accompanied with these verses, pronounced
and sung by M. Hales her Majesty's servant, a gentleman
in that art excellent and for his voice both commendable and
admirable" :
" My helmet now shall make a hive for bees.
And lovers' sonnets turned to holy psalms,
A man-at-arms must now serve on his knees,
And feed on prayers, which are old age his alms :
But though from court to cottage he depart.
His saint is sure of his unspotted heart."
Could a lyric have a better setting?
Christopher Marlowe (1564-1593), whose genius trans-
formed the drama, contented himself with splendid lyrical
passages in dialogue and soliloquy and did not introduce
formal songs in his plays. His one song is the most perfect
expression of that pastoral ideal which fascinated the age ;
it is small wonder that "Come live with me and be my love"
had its numerous rejoinders and imitations. There is the
spirit and music of many song books in the four lines :
" Where we will sit upon the rocks.
And see the shepherds feed their flocks
By shallow rivers, to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals."^
The most notable series of dramatic lyrics by this first
group of playwrights appeared in Summer's Last Will and
iThe full account is in Segar's Honour, Military and Civil, Bk. Ill,
chapter liv, cited by A. Dyce in his Works of Oreene and Peele, London,
1861, p. 566. As usually printed, the song is in the third person.
2 J. H. Ingram, Christopher Marlowe and his Associates, London,
1904, p. 221. There are several versions of this song.
W2 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
Testament by Thomas Nashe (1567-1601). These songs
make us regret the energy Nashe consumed in his unreadable
controversies ; they will outlive all his prose. Their range is
remarkable. The opening song by Ver who enters "with his
train, overlaid with suits of green moss, representing short
grass," has all the happy artlessness of the early folk lyrics :
" The fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet,
Young lovers meet, old wives a-sunning sit;
In every street, these tunes our ears do greet —
Cuckoo, j ug-j ug, pu-we, to-witta-woo !
Spring, the sweet Spring !"
but when Summer, who
" terms himself the god of poetry.
And setteth wanton songs unto the lute,"
feels his end at hand and cries :
" Sing me some doleful ditty to the lute,
That may complain my near approaching death,"
we hear a lament which is the cry of hopeless grief :
" Beauty is but a flower
Which wrinkles will devour.
Brightness falls from the air;
Queens have died j'oung and fair;
Dust hath closed Helen's eye.
I am sick, I must die:
Lord, have mercy upon us."
This is the very essence of melancholy ; each line is a dirge ;
to affect the mind the sorrows of the past are added to the
utter desolation of the present. We can imagine the effect
THE ELIZABETHAN LYRIC
of such a song, produced when the plague was ravaging
London :
" Strength stoops unto the grave,
Worms feed on Hector brave.
Swords may not fight with fate.
Earth still holds ope her gate.
Come, Come, the bells do cry.
I am sick, I must die:
Lord, have mercy upon us."
Nashe could employ to perfection a long, slow, melancholy
hne:
" Go not yet hence, bright soul of the sad year ;
The earth is heU, when thou leav'st to appear."
or
" Short days, sharp days, long nights come on apace.
Ah, who will hide us from the winter's face?
Cold doth increase, the sickness will not cease.
And here we lie, God knows, with little ease:
From winter, plague, and pestilence.
Good Lord, deliver us."^
One does not question the sincerity of such writing.
We have now come to the heyday of the drama and it
would be far too great a task to consider not the individual
lyrics, but even the lyric mood of each playwright. Songs
are scattered lavishly through comedy and tragedy alike ;
if at times we find a play without a single bar of melody,
on the other hand one character alone in Heywood's Rape
of Lucrece has eighteen lyrics ! Song has departed from
the drama as it has very largely from our lives. In a mod-
ern comedy the heroine may seat herself at the piano, strike
a few chords, and sing a line or two, but it is done merely
1 R. B. McKerrow, Works of Thomas Nashe, London, 1904, vol. Ill,
pp. 338, 383, 237, 292.
20 i ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
to give an air of reality to the play. Probably it is a bless-
ing that our actors do not attempt to sing; but in Eliza-
bethan times the boy actors were often members of church
choirs and thus the dramatist had at his command well-
trained voices. Two great companies, the "boys of Paul's"
and "children of the Queen's chapel" were composed entirely
of choir boys and were trained by choir conductors. More-
over, the audiences, whose influence on dramatic composition is
all-powerful, were brought up on the song books and were
eager to hear new lyrics. When we lament the utter absence
of the lyric in our modern plays we must remember that in
Shakespeare's day the conditions were ideal for the develop-
ment of song.
in that refuge of weak intellects, the musical comedy,
there are found what the play-bills generously entitle
"lyrics," but they are usually destitute of any Uterary value
and at their best show merely a clever, nimble metre. The
lyrics we are considering are the perfection of art.'^ We
frequently wonder whether a Shakespearean audience appre-
ciated the beauty of the blank verse they heard, for very few
of our actors understand it. These songs show a more elusive
style in the refinements of metre. We have lost the musical
setting for most of them ; yet no matter how lovely were the
melodies, they could not have surpassed the music of the
words. The variety of the lyrics is noteworthy ; we turn
from the charming artificiality of the songs attributed to
Lyly, such as :
" Cupid and my Campaspe played
At cards for kisses — Cupid paid;"
1 For the lyrics that follow see R. Bell's Songs from the Dramatists,
A. H. Biillen's Lyrics from the Dramatists of the Elizabethan Age, Lon-
don, 1893, and that best of modern anthologies, indispensable for a study
of the lyric, the Oxford Book of English Verse. For the music of these
lyrics see An Historical Sketch of the History of Dramatic Music in
England, in E. F. Rimbault's edition of Purcell's Bonduca, London, 1842.
THE ELIZABETHAN LYRIC 205
to that sturdy song of Thomas Heywood's with its enthu-
siasm, its exultation of a spring mood :
" Pack, cloudsj away ! and welcome, day !
With night we banish sorrow."
or to Dekker's equally effective
" Haymakers, rakers, reapers, and mowers.
Wait on your summer-queen;
Dress up with musk-rose her eglantine bowers.
Daffodils strew the green."
The flower songs are a small anthology in themselves ; they
tell of the joys of life, as in Fletcher's superb
" Now the lusty Spring is seen;
Golden yellow, gaudy blue.
Daintily invite the view;"
they adorn the brows of beauty, they deck the graves of
unhappy lovers:
" Lay a garland on my hearse
Of the dismal yew;
Maidens, willow branches bear;
Say, I died true."
We hear an echo of the old drinking songs in Dekker's
"Trowl the bowl, the jolly nut-brown bowl," or in Shakes-
peare's "And let me the canakin clink, clink;" we have the
sublimation of the old moral, sententious song in Dekker's
"Art thou poor, yet hast thou golden slumbers.'"' Love,
nature, and grief are the main motives of these lyrics and with
such themes the variety of the songs may be understood. The
love songs range from compliment to passion; the nature
ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
lyrics depict "All the flowers of the Spring" and re-echo the
call of every bird ; the elegies turn from the graceful melan-
choly of
" Weep no more, nor sign, nor groan.
Sorrow calls no time that's gone:
Violets plucked, the sweetest rain
Makes not fresh nor grow again;"
to the blank despair of Webster's "Call for the robin-red-
breast and the wren."
It would be a most interesting study to observe at what
points in the plays these lyrics are introduced. If they fre-
quently appear to be interpolated at random, more often
they plainly intensify the dramatic situation ; in many a
scene they are a part of the very warp and woof of the plot.
In losing the lyric from the drama, not only has our poetry
been impoverished but the resources of the playwright have
been distinctly weakened.
The songs of Shakespeare are by no means an epitome of
these lyrics ; he has nothing, for example, to equal Fletcher's
praise of Melancholy, which might have been sung by
Jacques :
" Hence, all you vain delights.
As short as are the nights
Wherein you spend your folly !
There's naught in this life sweet.
If men were wise to see't.
But only melancholy.
Oh, sweetest melancholy !"
yet it is true beyond a doubt that in Shakespeare's lyrics
this form of poetry found its most perfect expression.
Within this small field of verse, he moves as freely and as
commandingly as in the plays whose province is as wide as
humanity itself. With his fondness for music, repeatedly
THE ELIZABETHAN LYRIC Wl
expressed, he has caught all tones; the homely, half-
humorous realism of the folk songs:
" When all aloud the Wind doth blow,
And coughing drowns the parson's saw,
And birds sit brooding in the snow,
And Marian's nose looks red and raw.
When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl.
Then nightly sings the staring owl.
Tu-whit !
Tu-who ! — a merry note.
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot."
the Platonic idealism in
" Who is Silvia ? What is she.
That all our swains commend her?
Holy, fair, and wise is she;
The heaven such grace did lend her.
That she might admired be."
There is the simpKcity of the early songs in "0 mistress
mine, where are you roaming," or "It was a lover and his
lass" ; there is the delicacy, the refinement of the art lyric
in the strophe "Come unto these yellow sands" or "Over
hill, over dale." We have heard so many times "Under the
greenwood tree," and "Blow, blow thou winter wind" that
these "sweets grown common lose their dear delight," but
how marvellously the moral platitudes of the earlier mis-
cellanies have been transformed in
" Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky.
That dost not bite so nigh
As benefits forgot:
Though thou the waters warp,
Thy sting is not so sharp
As friend remembered not."
208 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
The style of these songs is as varied as their content, and
the metres range from
" Sigh no more^ ladies, sigh no more;
Men were deceivers ever;
One foot in sea and one on shore.
To one thing constant never:"
to the magic music of "Full fathom five thy father lies."
Shakespeare gains his effects in such little space ; eight lines
suffice for the most passionate of all his songs, "Take, 0 take
those lips away," and there is the essence of all spring songs
and serenades in the single stanza "Hark ! hark ! the lark at
heaven's gate sings. "^ It is small wonder that Hugo and
the French romanticists, turning to Shakespeare's example
in their fight against the classic drama, imitated his method
of introducing lyrics in his plays as they did his mingling
of tragedy and comedy ; yet no one has been able to imitate
his style. We catch strains of the long-drawn-out sweet-
ness of Spenser's Epithalamion in Tennyson's Lotos-Eaters;
the vigor, the mordant tone of Raleigh's Lie may be found
in our modern songs and ballads ; the sensuousness of the
Elizabethan sonnet has been caught by Keats, but Shakes-
peare's songs have no counterpart in all the verse that has
been written since his day. As we read them, we seem to
see above them that hne of John Donne's
" The mystery, the sign you must not touch."
We have said that the audiences in the theatres demanded
songs because all classes of society delighted in singing
1 "His songs possess in perfection all the essential elements of gaiety
and tenderness, facility and grace, idiomatic purity, melody in the
expression, variety, suddenness, and completeness. In their airiness and
sweetness, their spontaneity and full-throated ease, they resemble the
song of birds." Bell, op. cit., pp. 109-110.
THE ELIZABETHAN LYRIC 209
them; we find the confirmation, of this statement in the
Stationers' Register. In 1530 Wynkyn de Worde published
his song book, of which only the part for the bass has been
preserved. No other book with music appeared until 1571,
when there was published Songs of three, four, and five voices,
composed and made by Thomas Whythorne, which we may dis-
miss with the comment that the music is mediocre and the
verses are doggerel.^ From 1587 to 1630 there were pub-
lished eighty-eight song books containing between fifteen
hundred and two thousand pieces.
The first Elizabethan song books were directly inspired
by the Italian madrigal collections, for Italy was the
acknowledged home of song. In the Cortegiano, a work
which both Italians and Englishmen regarded as a classic,
we read : "Signori, .... avete a sapere ch' io non mi contento
del Cortegiano, se egli noil e ancor musico, e se, oltre alio
intendere ed esser sicuro a libro, non sa di varii instruments "^
To understand music, to play or to sing, was a necessary
accomplishment for a gentleman. This produced an army
of composers, who set to melodies the sonnets of Petrarch and
his followers and the strambotti of Serafino. The favorite
poetic form for these song writers was not the sonnet how-
ever but the madrigal. Petrarch had written a small number
of them, but the Neapolitan Dragonetto Bonifacio (1500-
1529) was the first poet to gain fame in this genre. Luigi
Cassola, considered by many the best of all madrigal writers,
pubHshed in 1545 a collection of over three hundred, without
music ; other well-known names are Muzio Manfredi, Guarini,
and the two Strozzi who wrote over fifteen hundred. To show
the tone of the Italian madrigal we shall quote one by
Cassola :
1 See the quotations in E. F. Rimbault's article in The Bibliographical
Miscellany, No. 4, London, 1854.
2 Book I, chapter xlvii.
210 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" Quando piu guardo le bellezze estreme,
E quelle gratia rare,
Ch'in la mia donna sola
Fur per gratia del ciel raccolte insieme :
Alhor piu penso come mai parola
Possa d'altra parlare,
E ch'in altra il pensier possa pensare:
Che nel mirar sotto il suo bianco velo
Veggo quanto puo far natura, e il cielo."^
(The more I see the highest beauties and those rare graces which
by the grace of Heaven were united in my lady alone, the more
I wonder how words can speak of any other, or the thought
dwell on any one else; because looking beneath her white veil,
I see all that nature, all that Heaven can do.)
Here is graceful flattery, the characteristic trait of these
madrigals, for they do not, so often as the sonnets, affect a
high and passionate strain. In other respects their subject-
matter is similar ; they sing of pastoral life, of beauty and
its brief moment, of love with its many sorrows. Precisely
as we have elegiac and religious sonnets, so we have mad-
rigals written on the death of friends, madrigals that are
prayers to Christ or the Virgin. In technique the sonnet and
madrigal do not approach each other; the madrigal form
was not a fixed one either in its rhyme scheme or in the num-
ber of its verses. "The madrigal," writes Crescimbeni, "is
the shortest lyrical composition used by good writers
In regard to the number of its lines, the earliest fathers of
song did not use less than six nor more than eleven," yet
Cassola has madrigals with as many as twenty-four lines.^
The music of the madrigal followed an invariable tradition.
Madrigals were unaccompanied part songs, frequently writ-
ten for as many as five or six voices ; each part was carried
1 See the 1545 edition of Cassola's madrigals, p. 91.
^L'lstoria della Volgar Poesia, 3d edition, Venezia, 1731, vol. I, p.
184.
THE ELIZABETHAN LYRIC 211
by but a single performer and not, as we arrange them
to-day, by several singers. The music was a "combination
of two elements originally totally separate, the contrapuntal
secular music of the Italians and their resident masters of
Netherlandish blood, and the harmonic Italian quasi-popular
song All the English madrigal-writers show both the
contrapuntal and the harmonic elements in their works, and
indeed generally combine them in the same composition
Even in the subsidiary form of madrigals known as Ballets
or Fa Las, where the markedly rhythmical element is
especially prominent, and the whole tendency is in the direc-
tion of plainly melodic swing, there is still an attention to
the delicate shades of individual part-writing which, even if
there were not (as there usually are) occasional contrapuntal
passages, would prevent us from regarding them merely as
harmonized tunes. "'^
The first books of the new madrigal music were William
Byrd's Psalms, Sonnets and Songs of Sadness and Piety
(thirty-five in number), published in 1588, and Nicholas
Yonge's Musica Transalpina. Madrigals translated, of four,
five and six parts, chosen out of divers excellent authors,
which appeared the same year, bringing into England, for
the first time, the term "madrigal." Fifty-seven Italian and
Netherlandish composers are represented in this collection,
and the Italian poetry which accompanied their music has
been clumsily translated into English. The success of these
two books started a whole school of madrigal composition;
we at once have English composers and English madrigal
writers, although many Italian madrigals, translated or
adapted, were constantly appearing side by side with original
verse. The next step was to introduce musical accompani-
ment and in John Dowland's First Book of Songs or Airs,
IE. Walker, A History of Music in England, Oxford, 1907, p. 59.
Chapter IV contains some interesting transcriptions of English mad-
rigals.
212 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
1597, there are twenty-one songs for four voices with lute
accompaniment. In 1601 books of airs were pubHshed by
Jones and by Campion and Rosseter, and in these two books
there was not only an instrumental accompaniment, but a
second innovation: the songs were written for one voice.
The solo had long been found in the dramatic lyrics ; it enters
the song books at a comparatively late date.^
To understand Elizabethan song, we must reconstruct
our ideas of English music. In our own day Norway has
produced in Grieg a song writer more famous than any one
the great Anglo-Saxon race has given to the world in the
last fifty years. Both in England and America we turn to
foreign composers, players, and singers, while our native
music constitutes a very small part of a concert programme.
In the days of Elizabeth and James, English composers and
performers were unsurpassed ; their music was frequently
printed abroad — in Berlin and Utrecht, in Frankfort and
Nuremberg— and their fame spread through Europe. John
Dowland was made lutanist to the court of Denmark; John
Bull was appointed organist of Antwerp cathedral ; Alphonso
Ferrabosco was taken to Turin by the Duke of Savoy to be
his chief musician. The tributes foreign critics paid to Eng-
lish music are laudatory in the highest degree. In a letter
of Monsieur de Champany not written to flatter English
pride (it was intercepted by the government), we read: "I
was invited to Eltham .... an house of the Queen. At
which time I heard and saw three things that in all my travel
of France, Italy and Spain, I never heard or saw the like.
The first was a consort of music, so excellent and sweet as
can not be expressed."^ From Elizabeth to the humblest
peasant, all classes delighted in song. Wherever the Queen
ij. Erskine, The Eliznhethan Lyric, N. Y., 1903, chapter VII, The
Song-Book; W. Bolle, Die gedruckten englischen Liederbiicher bis 1600,
Palmtra, XXIX, Berlin, 1903, p. iv.
2 A. Dyce, Works of Oreene and Peele, p. 567.
THE ELIZABETHAN LYRIC 213
was entertained in her royal progresses, lyrics were sung in
her honor ; to-day our distinguished guests are merely dined.
It is doubtful whether we enj oy songs as did our forefathers ;
certainly we lack their musical training. The preface to
Morley's Canzonets (1597) has become a locus classicus:
"Supper being ended, and music books (according to the
custom) being brought to the table, the mistress of the house
presented me with a part, earnestly requesting me to sing;
but when, after many excuses, I protested unfeignedly that I
could not, everyone began to wonder. Yea, some whispered
to others, demanding how I was brought up.""^ This sight
reading was the more difficult because the singer had before
him not the full score but merely his own part, which was
never a simple harmony, as in our part songs, but a melody,
for madrigals were polyphonic.
Though Morley probably exaggerated the case to recom-
mend his book, the plays of the period show that song was
not only a diversion but a necessary and highly prized
accomplishment. In Othello's praise of Desdemona he cries
admiringly, "O, she wiU sing the savageness out of a bear,"
and in his eyes it was not the least of her perfections. When
Cassio desires to secure her favor, he arranges a serenade.
In Cymheline the foolish churl Cloten courts Imogen with
song : "I am advised to give her music o' mornings ; they say
it will penetrate"; then follows "Hark! hark! the lark at
heaven's gate sings." To turn from fiction to history, when
David Rizzio wished to meet Mary of Scotland, he stationed
himself on the stair at Holyrood and as she descended, care-
lessly strummed a gittern. There could be no surer means
of attracting her attention. As the lyric played such a part
in life, there were songs for all occasions ; for weddings, for
funerals, for dances, for feasts. There were special songs
for all the trades — the tinkers, for example, were renowned
for their catches — and the viol, the lute, or the virginals
1 BoUe, p. iv.
2H ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
were commonly found in the houses of rich and poor. To-day
at the barber's shop waiting patrons read the papers; in
Elizabethan days they played the barber's gittem. We say
"as cheap as dirt" ; that age expressed the idea in the phrase
"as common as a barber's gittern," for every one used it.^
We have had music married to immortal verse — the lyrics
of Shakespeare and Heine set to the melodies of Schubert
and Schumann — but our popular songs have not the slightest
poetic value. The Elizabethan composers wrote their music
for poetry which in many respects has never been surpassed.
The most striking feature of these madrigals and songs is
their great metrical charm — they fairly sing themselves —
yet this does not imply that their subject matter is trivial
or uninteresting. The song writers are genuinely fond of
country life ; they abandon the pastoral conventionalities of
the Elizabethan romances for fresh descriptions of meadows
and flowers, of May fields where a shepherd and his lass sing,
dance, and make love:
" See where my love a-maying goes
With sweet dame Flora sporting !
She most alone with nightingales
In woods' delights consorting.
" Turn again, my dearest !
The pleasant'st air's in meadows;
Else by the river let us breathe,
And kiss among the willows."
writes an anonymous poet in Pilkington's madrigals, and
Morley's best-known ballet repeats the theme :
" Now is the month of maying.
When mery lads are playing
Each with his bonny lass
Upon the greeny grass.
Fa la la !
1 W. Chappell, Popular Music of the Olden Time, London, 1859, pp.
98 ff.
THE ELIZABETHAN LYRIC 215
" The spring clad all in gladness
Doth laugh at winter's sadness^
And to the bagpipe's sound
The nymphs tread out their ground.
Fa la la!"
He returns to it again in:
" Harkj joHy shepherds, hark; hark yon lusty ringing;
How cheerfully the bells dance, the whilst the lads are spring-
ing:
Go then, why sit we here delaying?
And all yond merry wanton lasses playing?"
These songs have a more homely tone than the lyrics of the
drama ; they are simpler both in thought and expression.
In the sonnets and in the longer Elizabethan lyrics the birds
are often described as merely a part of some meadow scene,
precisely as an artist might paint them in the corner of a
picture; here, as in some of the lyrics from the plays, they
are named as old, familiar friends :
" The nightingale, the organ of delight ;
The nimble lark, the blackbird, and the thrush;
And all the pretty choristers of flight.
That chant their music notes in every bush ;
Let them no more contend who shall excell.
The cuckoo is the bird that bears the bell."^
or
" Lady the birds right fairly
Are singing ever early:
The lark, the thrush, the nightingale.
The make-sport cuckoo and the quail;
These sing of love; then why sleep ye?
To love your sleep it may not be."^
1 F. A. Cox, English Madrigals in the time of Shakespeare, London,
1899, pp. 138, 112, 70, 149.
2 T. Oliphant, Musa Madrigalesca, London, 1837, p. 132.
216 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
It is in these songs, not in the formal pastorals of the period,
that we find the truest expression of the spirit of outdoor life.
Although the majority of these songs are light-hearted
bursts of melody, both composers and poets wished to show
their skiU in graver writing ; accordingly the sunniest day
has its clouds and the lasses are not always kind. We have
many complaints of inconstancy; Amaryllis writes on the
sand "my faith shall be immortal"
" But suddenly a storm of wind and weather
Blew all her faith and sand away together."
There is many a shepherd who with Philon, in William Byrd's
finest lyric, sings "Untrue love, untrue love, adieu, love,"
still we feel these pastoral lovers will soon be reconciled.
There are few tragedies such as "There were three ravens"
and though the songs have a gentle melancholy, they lack
deep feeling; they attract and deKght us, but they rarely
touch us with a sense of the dark moments in life. This,
their chief defect, is in a great measure due to their music.
Polyphonic, unaccompanied songs are best adapted to light
and graceful dialogues or descriptions ; in our modern music,
the single voice, reinforced by an instrumental accompani-
ment, expresses the deepest feelings, but the Elizabethan
instruments could portray only a very limited range of
emotions. The lute, the most popular of all, has a faint,
far-ofF sound, like an etherealized guitar ; its music is deli-
cate, but never strong. The gentle tone of the virginals has
no sustained quality, and its rapid runs and trills which give
to this instrument "a delightful shimmering, silver quality,"
would make it pathetically unfit to depict the terror of
Schubert's ErlJconig, the passion of Brahm's Von Ewiger
Liebe. It is true that at times these songs sound the high
Platonic note :
THE ELIZABETHAN LYRIC 217
" Thy mind is fairer than thy face or eyes:
And that same beauteous outside which thou hast.
Is but a curious casket, in which lies
The treasure of a mind, virtuous and chaste;"'
they even attempt the invocations to sleep in the strain of
the sonneteers:
■■ Come, shadow of my end, and shape of rest,
Allied to death, child of the blackest night,"^
but such verses are out of keeping; they break the charm,
the mood of the songs is a quieter one.
We have said that the most admirable feature of these
songs is their metrical grace, and something of their art can
be seen in the stanzas we have cited. To-day our song metres
are comparatively few; the stanzas are invariably regular
and simple in construction. These lyrics range from a
Spenserian stanza to
" April is in my mistress' face.
And July in her eyes hath place:
Within her bosom is September,
But in her heart a cold December."^
a quatrain which Carew remembered; from Sidney's "The
Nightingale as soon as April bringeth," with its stanza and
refrain of thirty-two lines, to the three line
" Why weeps, alas ! my lady love and mistress .''
Sweet-heart, fear not ; what tho' a-while I leave thee ;
My life may fail, but I will not deceive thee."*
1 Cox, p. 159.
2T. OUphant, p. 159.
3 P. 73.
4 P. 92. This is a translation from the Italian.
218 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
Fond of a quick beat to the measure, the tripping verses of
these poets are without that vulgar facility which marks the
modern song; they can be lively without being cheap. In
equally sharp contrast to our lyric is the deHght of poets
and composers for a long, slow line :
" When thou must home to shades of underground.
And there arrived, a new admired guest."
" Though love and all his pleasures are but toys,
They shorten tedious nights.''
" Dear, if you change, I'U never chose again;
Sweet, if you shrink, I'll never think of love;"
" I saw my lady weep.
And Sorrow, proud to be advanced so
In those fair eyes where all perfections keep."
They seek new combinations of metre, and gain some of their
most artistic effects in irregular stanzaic forms. From many
examples we select but one — a slumber song quite different
from the sonnet invocations to sleep :
" Sleep is a reconciling,
A rest that peace begets: —
Doth not the sun rise smiling.
When fair at even he sets ?
— Rest you, then^ rest, sad eyes !
Melt not in weeping !
While she lies sleeping
Softly, now softly lies
Sleeping."^
1 Cox, p. 169. For the music of this song, see Jackson's English
Melodies from the 13th to the 18th Century, p. 60. This valuable book;
contains the airs for many of the lyrics we have quoted.
THE ELIZABETHAN LYRIC 219
This is the perfection of song writing ; the longer line of the
first quatrain drops gently into a shorter measure and the
singer's voice is almost hushed as the verse moves more and
more quietly:
" Softly, now softly lies
Sleeping."
The greater part of the poetry in the song books is anony-
mous, though familiar names — Sidney, Dyer, Lodge,
Daniel — appear here and there. One song writer, however,
is well known ; his work contains all the best qualities of these
lyrics and with a consideration of his verse we shall close our
chapter.
Thomas Campion (1567-1620) was a finely educated and
highly gifted physician whose tastes were literary and musi-
cal rather than scientific. He published a book of Latin
epigrams ; he wrote a treatise on English versification ; he
was the author of a well-known masque ; but to-day he lives
in his lyrics. He possessed in the highest degree the art of
writing verse exquisite in workmanship yet perfectly adapted
for music. In one of his lyrics he wrote
" Let well-tuned words amaze
With harmony divine,"
and his rhythms are always beautifully modulated. Moore's
Irish Melodies have the true singing quality, but they lack
the surprises, the variety, and the delicate shadings of Cam-
pion's metres. Where so much is remarkable, selection is
difficult; he employs many styles and all successfully. In a
gay mood he writes :
" I care not for these ladies,
That must be woo'd and prayed;
Give me kind Amarillis,
That wanton country maid ;''
220 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
from this he turns to a broader melody :
" Where she her sacred bower adorns,
The rivers clearly flow;
The groves and meadows swell with flowers.
The winds all gently blow.
Her sun-like beauty shines so fair,
Her Spring can never fade.
Who then can blame the life that strives
To harbour in her shade?"
He can write in the naive spirit characteristic of so much in
the song books, using an almost monosyllabic diction:
" Never love unless you can
Bear with all the faults of man:"
at other times he uses a more heightened style and finely
wrought phrase and writes the line that stirs the imagina-
tion, as in his most famous song, "When thou must home to
shades of underground" :
" Then wilt thou speak of banqueting delights.
Of masques and revels which sweet youth did make.
Of tourneys and great challenges of knights.
And all these triumphs for thy beauty's sake:
When thou hast told these honours done to thee.
Then tell, O tell, how thou didst murder me." !^
The subject-matter of Campion's lyrics is not always as
admirable as his style; he gives us the art song rather than
the lyric of life. There is personal feeling in his religious
lyrics, "View me, Lord," for example, but as a rule he
lacks emotional force. We search in vain through aU his
songs for even an echo of such a poignant cry as "Ae fond
kiss, and then we sever."
iSee P. Vivian, Campion's Works, Oxford, 1909, pp. 7, 134, 173, 17.
THE ELIZABETHAN LYRIC 221
We have now considered briefly the chief writers of the
Elizabethan lyric — their ideas, the emotions they expressed,
their art — and the question naturally arises, Has this lyric
of the golden time of song ever been surpassed? Has the
modern age declined in the lyric as it has in the verse drama ?
It is always difiicult to compare two ages because writers
have a way of overlapping the purely artificial boundaries
of a reign or of a generation; yet we may take as the basis
of an estimate the lyrical poetry written during the twenty-
four years between the publication of the Shepherd's Calen-
dar, 1579, and the death of Elizabeth, 1603, and the modern
lyrics composed in the twenty-three years between the
appearance of the Lyrical Ballads, 1798, and the death of
Keats, 1821. / In every respect save one, the modern lyric
seems the greater. If some ten of Shakespeare's sonnets are
unexcelled, the best sonnets of Wordsworth and Keats stand
by them and surpass the work of the other Elizabethans.
The modern sonnet has more variety and harmony in its
music ; it has a greater wealth of observation ; and it is far
deeper in its interpretation of life. The modem Odes are
much more significant than those of the Elizabethans ; only
Spenser's Hymns, and his Prothalamion and Epithalamion
approach in poetic value and inspiration such typically mod-
em work as the Ode on the Intimations of Immortality, the
Ode to the Departing Year, Adonais, and the Ode to a Night-
ingale, i^ How much more intense are the emotions of our
modem poets, how much deeper is their outlook upon life!
Their lyric verse is greater in its philosophy, in its purely
spiritual content, while its technique is broader and more
resourceful. The majority of Elizabethan lyrics disclose a
purely personal mood of joy or sadness; the modern lyric
shows these moods even more poignantly and in addition has
what we may call the social mood, studying the thoughts and
desires of whole peoples. To-day, the world seems to lie at
the poet's feet.
ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
In one respect, as we have said, the modern lyric must
yield to the Elizabethan: its songs lack the melody and
charm of those of the earlier age. The care-free spirit ; the
grace, the daintiness of metre ; those touches above the reach
of art, we can not attain. Our lyric poets think and feel
too deeply ever to
" recapture
The first fine careless rapture."
This summing up is incomplete because we have not con-
sidered among the Elizabethans Jonson and Donne. Most
of Jonson's lyrics were written after Elizabeth's death, yet
the songs of Donne belong to her reign. Both poets in
departing from Elizabethan traditions founded new schools
of lyric verse; it is for this reason that we have chosen to
discuss them in the following chapter.
CHAPTER FIVE
The Jacobean and Caroline Lyric
Early in the seventeenth century, if a citizen of London
had been asked who was the foremost English writer, in all
probability he would have replied, "Ben Jonson" (1573-
1637). There have been great poets who have worked in
retirement, who even shunned the life of their times, but
Jonson was London born and bred. He lived in the open;
his character was aggressive; his likes and dislikes were
expressed in no uncertain language ; and even the most un-
literary must have admired his commanding personality.
He had won his way to fame by sheer ability allied with
indefatigable industry. As a boy he had commenced his
classical studies at Westminster School with the great Cam-
den as his master (he addressed to him in later years an
"epigram" full of reverence and gratitude) but apparently
he was denied the opportunity of studying at Oxford or
Cambridge. His stepfather, a master builder, desired Jonson
to follow that trade, but as he told Drummond, he could not
support it and ran off to the Low Countries to fight.^ Here
he distinguished himself for his bravery, as he did, on his
return to England, at the duelling ground ; but he was more
the disciple of Mercury than Mars, and he soon began his
literary career as a reviser of old plays. From this humble
position he rose to the most honored place among the writers
of his generation. Shakespeare confessed himself to be an
"unlettered clerk"; Jonson, while deeply engaged in his
dramas, continued his studies until he had gained the most
1 Cunningham-GifFord, Works of Ben Jonson, nine volumes, London,
1875, vol. IX, p. 388.
n}^ ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
extensive knowledge of the classic writers — he ranks with
Milton, Gray, and Landor in this respect — and the two uni-
versities in recognition of his scholarship, conferred upon
him the Master's degree. In the social life of the times he
played a most prominent part. He was a founder of the
famous Apollo Club, where gathered the poets and wits, and
at its meetings he presided over the choicest spirits of his day.
His admirers, half in jest, half seriously, styled themselves the
"Sons of Ben," and to be admitted by him to their number
was no small compHment. Of lowly parentage, he was on
familiar terms with the chief men of his day — Bacon, Selden,
the Earl of Newcastle, Lord Falkland ; the list would be a
long one — and he was an honored guest at the homes of the
nobility. He was appointed poet laureate ; he became the
writer of court masques ; his entertainments were the delight
of the nobility ; and his verses were spoken by the members of
the Royal household and of the Royal family. It is small
wonder that the age admired the poet who had worked his
way from the ranks to such social and literary triumphs.
For a man of Jonson's temperament, creative work was
not sufficient ; he was so confident of his own tastes and of
his own Hterary theories that he wished to impose them on
others. In his poem to Camden he exclaims
" What weight, and what authority in thy speech !"
and this force which he admired in his old teacher, he pos-
sessed himself. Jonson is the one poet of his time who has
left us any trenchant criticism of his contemporaries (for
we may disregard the personalities of literary quarrels) ; the
sole writer who has stated his literary creed. Though it has
been shown that many of the criticisms and statements of
opinion in his Discoveries are literal translations from the
classics and from the writings of the humanists, yet these
very passages were made his own simply because they coin-
cided with his ideas. So far as disclosing Jonson's attitude
JACOBEAN AND CAROLINE LYRIC
of mind is concerned, they might as well have been written
by him; it is accordingly no difficult matter to discover his
theories in regard to the lyric.
The first point that we notice is Jonson's utter lack of
sympathy with the chief tendencies of the Elizabethan lyric.
For many of his views we must rely on his conversations with
Drummond, hurried, possibly inaccurate notes, taken by the
Scottish poet whom Jonson had walked north to see. Drum-
mond's admirations were Jonson's dislikes ; he must have been
pained by many of his guest's caustic remarks ; and he made
his notes in no admiring spirit. Would that this Jonson had
found a Boswell ! "He is a great lover and praiser of him-
self; a contemner and scomer of others," concludes Drum-
mond, and he is hardly an impartial witness ; yet though we
may shade down the tones of his picture, it is evidently true
in its essentials.'^ We see Jonson, secure in his own opinions,
turning his back on the acknowledged masters of lyric verse.
Drummond's conversations were written in 1618, when the
great vogue of the sonnet had passed, yet it is strange to
hear that Jonson "cursed Petrarch for redacting verses to
sonnets ; which he said were like that tyrant's bed, where some
who were too short were racked; others too long, cut short,"
and that "cross rhymes and stanzas were all forced."^ Jon-
son's dislike for the sonnet is shown in his first play, Every
Man in his Humor, acted in 1598. Here he parodies a sonnet
written by Daniel, and sneers at the form in Matthew, the
"Town Gull," who asserts, "I am melancholy myself, divers
times, sir, and then do I no more but take pen and paper,
presently, and overflow you half a score, or a dozen sonnets
at a sitting."' When we realize that for Jonson Petrarch
ip. 416.
2 P. 370.
3 Act III, scene i, vol. I, p. 63. In a poem in the Underwoods, vol.
VIII, p. 398, he alludes jeeringly to a sonnet written on the "lace, laid
on a smock" and to a madrigal on the Lady Mayoress's "French hood
and scarlet gown."
ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
and the whole Italian school meant nothing, we understand
how radical were his views.
We have seen that the Elizabethan lyric poets turned
as eagerly to France as they did to Italy and that they
"borrowed" prodigally from Marot, Desportes, Du Bellay,
Ronsard; Jonson, in a poem prefixed to Sylvester's trans-
lation of Du Bartas, states frankly that his praise is
" the child of ignorance
And utter stranger to all air of France."^
This was in 1605, and by 1618 Jonson had mastered enough
French to compare the translation with the original and to
appreciate Ronsard's odes, yet on the whole we are probably
justified in accepting Drummond's statement that Jonson
"neither doth understand French nor ItaKan" ; that is, he
had no real knowledge of these hteratures.^ In ignoring the
Renaissance poetry of the continent, Jonson condemned his
own countrymen who were nourished by it. He could not
follow the leadership of the men of his time ; he was not
pleased with Spenser's stanza, nor did Donne's style, the
opposite extreme, satisfy him. He was not a genius of the
first order, striking out in new paths ; his studies had made
him a thoroughgoing classicist; and he sought for his
models in the poets of Rome.
It is interesting to compare his strictures on his contem-
poraries with his whole-hearted praise of the classics. He
told Drummond that to correct his faults he must study
Quintilian, and recommended for his reading Horace, Taci-
tus, Martial, and Juvenal.' He sends to a friend a poetical
invitation to dinner, and promises him, in addition to the deli-
cacies of the table,
1 Vol. VIII, p. 231.
2 Vol. IX, p. 371.
3 P. 366.
JACOBEAN AND CAROLINE LYRIC 227
" my man
Shall read a piece of Virgil, Tacitus,
Livy, or of some better book to us,
Of which we'll speak our minds, amidst our meat."^
On the failure of his New Inn (1629), Jonson wrote one of
his most vigorous pieces ; to quote his own words, "The just
indignation the author took at the vulgar censure of his
play, by some malicious spectators, begat the following Ode
to himself" :
" Come leave the loathed stage,
And the more loathsome age;
Where pride and impudence in faction knit,
Usurp the chair of wit !"
He is thoroughly moved, he is hurt to the quick, and every
line betrays that he is speaking from his heart. At this
time, he turns to his classics :
V " Leave things so prostitute.
And take the Alcaic lute;
Or thine own Horace, or Anacreon's lyre;
Warm thee by Pindar's fire:
And though thy nerves be shrunk, and blood be cold
Ere years have made thee old.
Strike that disdainful heat
Throughout, to their defeat.
As curious fools, and envious of thy strain.
May blushing swear no palsy's in thy brain."^
It would be a simple matter to cite passage after passage
in which Jonson shows that he is a child of Greece and Rome ;
these will suffice for our purpose.
1 Vol. VIII, p. 204.
2 Vol. V, p. 415.
ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
Jonson turned to the classics because he was satiated
with the "sugared" sonnet and weary of the rich melodies
of Elizabethan song. He believed the lyric lacked force and
to a man of his sturdy disposition, this was a fatal defect.
"Others there are," he wrote in his Discoveries, "that have
no composition at all; but a kind of tuning and rhyming
fall, in what they write. It runs and slides, and only makes a
sound. Women's poets they are called, as you have women's
tailors ;
" They write a verse as smooth, as soft as cream.
In which there is no torrent, nor scarce stream."'
He wished a more masculine style ; the delicate graces of the
song books, the richer tones of the Prothalamion he did not
desire. Once at least he expressed vigorously a dislike of
rhyme :
" Greek was free from rhyme's infection,
Happy Greek by this protection.
Was not spoiled."^
He might have agreed with Milton in wishing the English
language freed from "the troublesome bondage of rhyming."
He desired no lyric outbursts, but a regular, well-ordered,
sober metre ; accordingly he told Drummond that "couplets"
were "the bravest sort of verses." In a preface to a song
book, Morley wrote : "You must in your music be wavering
like the wind, sometime wanton, sometime drooping, some-
time grave and staid, otherwhile effeminate .... and
1 Vol. IX, p. 157.
2 Vol. VIII, p. 379.
JACOBEAN AND CAROLINE LYRIC
show the uttermost of your variety, and the more variety
you show, the better shall you please."' This description of
Elizabethan music applies equally to Elizabethan metres. In
place of this fluid verse, Jonson wished a fixed form; the
lyric structure must be more solid, more compact, with each
verse well balanced and carefully polished. There are no
"native wood notes wild" in his songs ; his compositions, says
Clarendon, who knew him, "were slow and upon deliberation,"
for Jonson possessed "judgment to order and govern fancy,
rather than excess of fancy. "^
If he disapproved of the style of the contemporary
lyric, he was displeased also with its subject-matter. Many
of the lyrics are pure music, Httle else ; he wished for more
substance. He disliked, as he expressed it, "those that
merely talk and never think" ; he was a moralist, and he was
not contented as were many of the Elizabethans to enjoy
the beauty of the world and the pleasures of life. Spenser
was also a moralist, but he saw the world with the eyes of
Plato; Jonson, from the standpoint of Horace and Martial.
How different from the style of Spenser's Hymns is the close-
knit verse of Jonson's Epode:
" Not to know vice at all, and keep true state,
Is virtue and not fate:
Next to that virtue, is to know vice well.
And her black spite expel.
" He that for love of goodness hateth ill.
Is more crown-worthy still,
Than he, which for sin's penalty forbears;
His heart sins, though he fears."'
1 Cox, p. xl.
2 Jonson, vol. I, p. ccxxv.
3 Vol. VIII, p. 363, 265.
ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
This epigrammatic expression reminds us of the Queen Anne
poetry, though the polish is not here, and indeed so many
traits of the English classical school are found in Jonson's
work that he has been called its founder.
To illustrate further Jonson's style and thought, we shall
make one more citation, this time from his Pindaric Ode —
another example of his classical tastes, for he is the first
EngHsh writer to imitate the Greek ode with its strophe,
antistrophe and epode :
" It is not growing like a tree
In bulk, doth make men better be;
Or standing long an oak, three hundred year,
To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sear:
A lily of a day
Is fairer far in May,
Although it fall and die that night;
It was the plant and flower of light.
In small proportions we just beauties see;
And in short measures, life may perfect be."^
If we compare these verses, among the noblest in the lan-
guage, with the stanza of Spenser's Epithalamion, in which
he describes the perfections of his bride, "the inward beauty
of her lively spright," we realize the change that has come
over EngHsh poetry.
It was impossible for Jonson to withdraw himself entirely
from Elizabethan influences and some of his songs are in
the manner of that age and have the music of the madrigals,
for example:
" Slow, slow, fresh fount; keep time with my salt tears:
Yet slower, yet; O faintly, gentle springs;"^
1 Vol. IX, p. 13.
2 Cynthia's Bevels, produced in 1600, Act I, scene i, vol. II, p. 233.
JACOBEAN AND CAROLINE LYRIC 2S1
or still better, because of its lyric rapture:
" Have you seen but a bright lily grow.
Before rude hands have touched it?
Have you marked but the fall of the snow,
Before the soil hath smutched it?
Have you felt the wool of beaver?
Or swan's down ever?
Or have smelt o' the bud o' the brier?
Or the nard in the fire?
Or have tasted the bag of the bee ?
O so white, O so soft, O so sweet is she !"^
This, however, is not his customary style; much more char-
acteristic in its polish and restraint is his
" Queen and huntress, chaste and fair.
Now the sun is laid to sleep.
Seated in thy silver chair.
State in wonted manner keep:
Hesperus entreats thy light.
Goddess excellently bright."^
His two best known lyrics show this same finish. "Still to
be neat," a translation of a poem in the Pancharis of the
contemporary writer, Jean Bonnefons, has the careful bal-
ancing, the antithetical manner of Pope:
" Still to be neat, still to be drest.
As you were going to a feast ;
Still to be powdered, still perfumed;
Lady, it is to be presumed.
Though art's hid causes are not found.
All is not sweet, all is not sound."'
1 This song first appeared in The Devil is an Ass, produced in 1616,
Act II, scene ii; Jonson afterwards Included it in the Celebration of
Charis, a series of love poems, in the Elizabethan manner, written when
he was fifty years of age.
^Cynthia's Bevels, Act V, scene ili, vol. II, p. 339.
3 The Silent Woman, produced in 1609, Act I, scene i, vol. Ill, p. 337.
ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
Every effect is calculated; the thought could not be more
tersely expressed; and we may well believe Jonson's state-
ment that hJe wrote his poems in prose before turning them
into verse. 1 His masterpiece is a triumph of workmanship,
for "Drink to me only with thine eyes" is based on a few
scattered phrases in the love letters of the Greek sophist
Philostratus. \ It is interesting to compare the original with
the finished song: "Drink to me with thine eyes only — Or, if
thou wilt, putting the cup to thy lips, fill it with kisses, and
so bestow it upon me." |If we look at the first stanza, so
familiar we need not cite it, we find that its two splendid
lines which Jonson never surpassed:
" The thirst that from the soul doth rise.
Doth ask a drink divine,"|
are not in the Greek.^ The whole poem is one of the most
remarkable examples in the history of the lyric of the fusion
of imitative work and pure creation.
We have not space to mention the rest of Jonson's lyrics.
His epitaphs are among the finest in the language ; the two
written for his children have more pathos than all the formal
elegies of the Elizabethans.^ His four religious lyrics, of
which the most impressive, because of its feeling, is
" Good and great God ! can I not think of thee.
But it must straight my melancholy be.^"
point the way to Herbert and Herrick.' There are a large
number of lyrics scattered through his Masques, the Forest,
and the Underwoods. All of them show his workmanship,
though few equal his
1 Vol. VIII, p. 259. See The Academy, December 6, 1884., p. 377.
2 Pp. 155, 167.
3 P. 279.
JACOBEAN AND CAROLINE LYRIC 2S8
" O do not wanton with those eyes.
Lest I be sick with seeing,"^
a lyric whose simple, straightforward style reminds us of
Restoration song at its best. Though Jonson, save in two
or three instances, never reached the heights attained by
even the lesser EHzabethan lyrists ; though we may agree
with Swinburne that "to come so near so often and yet never
to touch the goal of lyric triumph has never been the for-
tune and the misfortune of any other poet," we must remem-
ber, in estimating Jonson's achievement, that he lives in the
work of his followers as well as in his own verses. To name
but one instance, the lyrics of Herrick owe, in a great meas-
ure, their charm, their perfection to the inspiration he re-
ceived, as he gratefully acknowledged, from his patron
saint, "Father Ben."
Jonson informed Drummond that he considered Donne for
some things the finest poet in the world, and in three sets of
verses he has recorded, in no qualified terms, his admiration
for him'.^ He was not alone in his high estimate of Donne's
genius, for the age lavished its praise upon the poet whose
influence impressed itself, to an extraordinary degree, upon
the writings of the time. To-day Donne's poems are never
imitated; they are not even widely read, for though he has
his circle of devoted admirers, their number is small. What
is there in his work that compelled the admiration of his
contemporaries, that wrought such changes in the lyric ; and
why is he not, with Sidney and Spenser, with Shakespeare
and Jonson, a household word to our own time ?
John Donne (1573-1631) was in turn student, soldier,
traveller, secretary to the Lord Chancellor, and a penniless
lawyer subsisting on the bounty of friends and patrons.
Late in life, at the insistence of King James, he took orders
and ended a career filled with sickness, poverty, and dis-
ip. 306.
2 Pp. 156, 197, 200.
ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
couragement that dreamed of suicide, as Dean of St. Paul's
and the greatest preacher of his age. One of the most fas-
cinating characters in English literature, it is unfortunate
that with the exception of his hymns, his lyrics do not repre-
sent the different stages of his development ; they do not
spring from years of thought and experience, for they are
sparks struck out in youth by his vigorous nature. Walton
states that most of them were written before Donne was
twenty ; Jonson, who knew Donne well, says before he was
twenty-five. Donne never sent them to the press. They
were first published a few months after his death, but they
had long circulated in manuscript, working as great a
change in English poetry as though they had gone through
edition after edition.
The moment we open Donne's lyrics, we find ourselves in
an unexplored realm. As a rule the young poet follows his
models until he has attained the difficult art of self-expres-
sion. Chatterton imitates the ballads ; Keats writes with his
Spenser before him, but over Donne's pages we might place
his own line, "To all, which all love, I say no." The age was
fascinated not only by the emotional force and the uncon-
ventional thought of his poems, but by their new and strange
style. In the case of Donne it is peculiarly unsatisfactory
to consider the style apart from the content of his verse, but
we shall attempt this and examine first his manner of ex-
pressing himself.
We have seen that Elizabethan verse was lyrical in the
oldest sense of that term, for an astonishingly large number
of poems were written for music and many that were never
sung are perfectly adapted for instrumental accompaniment.
Few of Donne's poems are actually songs ; they are lyrics
because they arc short, subjective pieces, showing in every
line the poet's dominating personality. If we do not find
the lilt of song in most of his work, it is not because song
was beyond him. He could write, Walton pointed out, verses
JACOBEAN AND CAROLINE LYRIC 2S5
"soft and smooth when he thought them fit and worth his
labour," as in his adaptation of Marlowe :
" Come live with me, and be my love.
And we will some new pleasures prove
Of golden sands, and crystal brooks.
With silken lines and silver hooks."
If this meter seems too facile, we turn to "Go and catch a
falling star," with a tripping refrain in each stanza :
" And find
What wind
Serves to advance an honest mind,"
or the better known, and far more sincere
" Sweetest love, I do not go,
For weariness of thee.
Nor in hope the world can show
A fitter love for me."'
If we could restrict ourselves in the selection, it would be
possible to show that Donne's work had rare metrical beauty.
His ear was not defective ; he did not possess an imperfect
sense of rhythm, for no man can write splendidly again and
again by sheer accident. He deliberately put aside the popu-
lar manner of the day and going to the other extreme, wrote
verses crabbed and unmusical in their movement and dis-
concerting, to say the least, in their rhymes :
" Whether abstract, spiritual love they like."
" For I am a very dead thing."
" Ends love in this, that my man
Can be as happy as I can, if he can
Endure ?"2
1 E. K. Chambers, Poems of John Donne, Muses' Library, London,
1896, vol. 1, pp. 47, 4, 16.
2 Vol. I, pp. 31, 45, 41.
ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
These are typical examples of harsh rhythm; for slovenly
rhymes take the triplet :
" When this book is made thus,
Should again the ravenous
Vandals and the Goths invade us."^
To select from Donne's poems lines that lack all metrical
charm, verses as uncouth as Skelton's, is a simple task ; the
difficulty is to reconcile them with stanzas marked by a rare
and haunting beauty :
" Twice or thrice had I loved thee,
Before I knew thy face or name;
So in a voice, so in a shapeless flame.
Angels aiFect us oft, and worshipped be."
" Whoever comes to shroud me, do not harm.
Nor question much.
That subtle wreath of hair, which crowns my arm;
The mystery, the sign you must not touch."
" I wonder, by my troth, what thou and I
Did, till we loved.? were we not weaned till then?
But sucked on country pleasures, childishly?
Or snorted we in the Seven Sleepers' den?
'Twas so ; but this, all pleasures fancies be ;
If ever any beauty I did see.
Which I desired, and got, 'twas but a dream of thee."^
The simplest, most familiar metres acquire a new tone at his
hands :
" If, as I have, you also do
Virtue in woman see,
And dare love that, and say so too.
And forget the He and She;
iP. 31.
2 Pp. 21, 61, 3.
JACOBEAN AND CAROLINE LYRIC 2S7
" And if this love, though placed so,
From profane men you hide.
Which will no faith on this bestow.
Or, if they do, deride;
" Then you have done a braver thing
Than all the Worthies did;
And a braver thence will spring.
Which is, to keep that hid."^
Such work as this unfortunately comprises the smaller part
of his verse, and taking his poems as a whole, we can readily
understand Jonson's vigorous remark, that Donne, for not
keeping accent, deserves hanging.
There are several reasons we may give to account for his
unmusical moments. Undoubtedly many of the poems were
struck off at white heat, and were never revised. All that
he wished was to express the thought, the emotion of the
hour. At times, his ideas found perfect expression ; at others,
language faltered, and instead of deliberating and search-
ing painfully for the well-made phrase, he was content with
the first imperfect utterance. Moreover, as we shall see, he
flouted the ideas of the day, and what more natural than
that he should dislike the sweetness of Spenser, the grace of
the song writers, the refinement of Jonson.? There was a
morbid strain in Donne ; the grotesque appealed strongly to
him ; and as it affected his thought, it made itself felt in his
style. We can endure his worst dissonances because at his
best his verse has a music which no other writer of his day
could reach.
Turning to the poems, we find that many of them bear
the marks of that irregular life he led when he left the uni-
versity for the town, of wild days whose memories long
troubled his mind. Several poems are frankly sensual in
tone, but their cynicism is too much on parade; one detects
ip. 6.
^S8 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
in them the swagger of precocious youth delighting to shock
old-fashioned morality. Donne declares for community in
love ; boasts of his inconstancy ; and asserts that no true
woman exists. It would be a mistake to refuse to see in such
writing the marks of days ill spent, but it is equally a mistake
to read too much into them or to construct from them, as
Mr. Gosse has done, a definite tale of dishonorable intrigue.
To his own times, the boldness of these poems must have
seemed amazing. The Petrarchian tradition stiU lingered;
the poets of the age worshipped woman from afar; she was
a goddess, a saint, or at the very least a shepherdess of sur-
passing virtue and beauty. Donne writes that women
" are ours as fruits are ours ;
He that but tastes, he that devours.
And he that leaves all, doth as well;
Changed loves are but changed sorts of meat;
And when he hath the kernel eat.
Who doth not fling away the shell ?"^
So absurdly cynical are such poems as The Indifferent, Com-
Tnimity, Confined Love, or Love's Alchemy with its ending
" Hope not for mind in women; at their best.
Sweetness and wit they are, but mummy, possess'd,"
that Donne loses the very effect he seeks to gain.
Had he written in this fashion only, he would never have
made his impression upon the lyric. Side by side with
these poems, which explain in part the neglect of Donne
to-day, are found a sharply contrasted group of lyrics ex-
pressing in tones of passionate sincerity the deepest affec-
tion and devotion. This sudden change in his mood may be
attributed to his meeting with Anne More, whom he married
in 1601 despite the opposition of her family. This run-
away match cost him his secretary's position and reduced
1 Vol. I, p. 33.
JACOBEAN AND CAROLINE LYRIC 2S9
him to utter poverty, yet through years of ambitions un-
realized and hopes deferred, his devotion to her never fal-
tered; when she died in 1617, he grieved until his friends
despaired for his own life. We know that "Sweetest love,
I do not go," was written for her; we may assume she in-
spired his finest work.
Donne was a romanticist at heart. He thought of love
as a mystic power transcending all boundaries of time and
space ; it was a union of two spirits forming a new and con-
trolling soul. To depict such a love he brought all the
strength of his vigorous intellect, all the emotion of his sen-
sitive nature ; in celebrating it he departed as widely from
Elizabethan tradition as when he mocked it. He wastes no
words in praising a woman's beauty, in comparing her eyes
to stars, her hair to golden wires :
" But he who loveliness within
Hath found, all outward loathes.
For he who colour loves, and skin.
Loves but their oldest clothes."'^
To the familiar situations of Elizabethan love poetry Donne
brings his own, never the conventional point of view. The
Elizabethans uttered bitter complaints on absence from
their loves ; for Donne there can be no such thing as real
separation :
" Dull sublunary lovers' love
— ^Whose soul is sense — can not admit
Of absence, 'cause it doth remove
The thing which elemented it.
" But we by a love so far refined.
That ourselves know not what it is.
Inter-assured of the mind.
Care less eyes, lips and hands to miss."^
IP. 6.
2 P. 52; cf. p. 54.
21^0 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
Nothing is commoner in the song books or the sonnet col-
lections than pictures of a lady weeping ; descriptions of
beauty in distress with a comparison of tearful eyes to flow-
ing springs. By his unusual and forceful similes, and by
the rush of his final apostrophe, Donne completely trans-
forms this stock theme :
" O! more than moon.
Draw not up seas to drown me in thy sphere;
Weep me not dead, in thine arms, but forbear
To teach the sea, what it may do too soon."^
Though many illustrations of Donne's avoidance of the
beaten track could easily be given, one more must suffice.
It was a custom for men of the sixteenth and seventeenth
centuries to wear bracelets made of their ladies' hair.
Among the slain at Marston Moor, Sir Charles Lucas recog-
nized "one cavalier with a bracelet of hair round his wrist.
He desired the bracelet to be taken off, saying that he knew
an honourable lady who would give thanks for it."^ Verses on
these love tokens are common in all languages ; INIelin de
Saint-Gelais has a poem, Alessandro Gatti a madrigal, both
in the tone of gallantry, on such a gift. Donne writes of
one, but disdaining the spirit of trifling compliment, his
imagination pierces the tomb and sees there a mouldering
skeleton with "A bracelet of bright hair about the bone."
Originality is not enough to establish a poet's fame ; it
may or may not lead to the finest work. With Donne's un-
conventionality went two rare qualities which our citations
have illustrated : he stirred the feelings, he awoke the imagi-
nation by far-reaching suggestion. In Canonization he
speaks of two lovers "who did the whole world's soul con-
tract" into their eyes, and Donne could put the heart of a
1 P. 40.
2 C. R. Markham, A Life of the great Lord Fairfax, London, 1870,
p. 174..
JACOBEAN AND CAROLINE LYRIC Ul
poem — contract the soul — ^into a single phrase. The Eliza-
bethans would express in a sonnet what he tells in a line. By
sheer intellectual force, far removed from mere cleverness, he
could transform a thought or feeling by expressing it in
similes startlingly quaint yet apposite. The best of them
were not sought out with care and calculation; his mind,
deeply moved, found them instinctively. When Shelley com-
pares the skylark, hidden in the cloud, to a poet, a maiden, a
glow worm, a rose, we do not feel that he painfully seeks these
comparisons, but that his mind naturally overflows in them.
So with Donne ; every stanza in his Fever embodies a new and
strange thought:
" But yet thou canst not die^ I know ;
To leave this world behind, is death;
But when thou from this world wilt go,
The whole world vapours with thy breath.
*****
" O wrangling schools, that search what fire
Shall burn this world, had none the wit
Unto this knowledge to aspire.
That this her fever might be it?"^
This peculiar turn of mind persisted to the end. In the
Hymn to God, my God, in my sickness, written on his death-
bed, after a touching and beautiful opening stanza, he com-
pares himself to a map which his doctors, "grown cosmo-
graphers," are studying.
Attempting to discover the secret of Donne's power, the
age thought it lay in this ability to detect curious analogies.
This was called "wit," but with our modem notions of the
meaning of that word, it is strange to read of the "witty
Donne." Dr. Johnson was more misleading when he applied
the term "metaphysical" to this trait of Donne's mind.^
1 Vol. I, p. 20.
2 See that lociis classicus, Johnson's Life of Cowley.
ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
Moved by this poetry and desiring to imitate it, the men of
the day seized upon "wit" as the one thing needful. At
times they partially caught Donne's manner ; his spirit
escaped them. Through all the ingenuity of Donne's
thought, we feel the glow of emotion. The Fever ends with
this passionate declaration :
" Yet 'twas of my mind, seizing thee,
Though it in thee can not persever ;
For I had rather owner be
Of thee one hour, than all else ever."
It is small wonder that such writing changed the whole
spirit of the lyric.
II
It must not be presumed that all the lyrists of this age
were followers of either Donne or Jonson; as a rule, they
showed traces of their influence, but we may name two poets,
whose writings extended over this period, and yet were
Elizabethan in their spirit. William Browne (1591-1645),
a student at Oxford and the Inner Temple, a friend of Dray-
ton and Jonson, passed his life quietly in the country and
his poetry is as peaceful as was his career. He had a gentle
fancy; a genuine love for nature (his descriptions of a
"musical concert of birds" in the third song of Britannia's
Pastorals, his chief work, is a most delightful bit of writ-
ing) ; but he adds nothing to the development of the lyric.''
Skelton, of whom he speaks slightingly, had a decided indi-
viduality ; Browne is content to be a humble imitator of Spen-
ser, writing with his eye on the Visions, the Shepherds Cal-
endar, and the Faerie Queene, but never catching either the
1 Gordon Goodwin, The Poems of William Browne, Muses Library,
London, 1894, vol. I, p. 89.
JACOBEAN AND CAROLINE LYRIC 2^3
color or the music of his model. He had but little of the
song spirit ; his "Steer, hither steer your winged pines,"
and "Now that the Spring hath filled our veins," are well writ-
ten but in no respect remarkable.^ He has caught the lilt
of the song books in
" For her gait if she be walking.
Be she sitting I desire her
For her state's sake, and admire her
For her wit if she be talking.
Gait and state and wit approve her;
For which all and each I love her."^
He will be remembered for one poem, the first half of his
epitaph on "Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother." He has
won immortality by six lines, and in these well-known verses
we may see the influence of the epitaphs of Jonson, who was
long considered the author of this httle masterpiece.
One of Browne's warmest friends was George Wither
(1588-1667), a writer who shared with Quarles the doubtful
honor of being the favorite poet of the unlettered multitude.
In the fourth eclogue of the Shepherd's Hunting, in which
he introduces William Browne, he says of himself that he is
one of those
" Who at twice-ten have sung more
Than some will do at fourscore,"
and he is indeed a most voluminous writer, but unfortu-
nately his good work was over by the time he was thirty — he
should have had the grace to die then — and he degenerated
into a writer of doggerel. In Fair Virtue, composed in 1612,
but published ten years later, and in the Shepherd's Hrnit-
1 Vol. II, pp. 170, 213.
2 P. 226.
3 1 have discussed the question of Browne's authorship in the
AthencBUm, August 11, 1906.
HI)- ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
ing we see him at his best. In the songs included in these
poems, and in their lyrical passages, his verse moves lightly
and harmoniously ; it is unaffected, simple, and so sponta-
neous that it seems improvisation. He had, unfortunately,
the fatal gift of fluency ; even his best work is improved by
condensation. Could he have learned from Jonson the art
of self-restraint, he would have stood with the best lyrists
of the age. He was an idealist ; he had the poet's vision, an
enthusiasm for verse, that remind us of the greater Eliza-
bethans. His light-heartedness, which instantly attracts us,
even unhappy love can not destroy; we see it in two of his
best lyrics :
" Many a merry meeting
My love and I have had;
She was my only sweeting.
She made m^y heart full glad;
The tears stood in her eyes
Like to the morning dew;
But now, alas ! sh'as left me,
Falero, lero, loo !"
The second one we need not cite, for
" Shall I wasting in despair
Die because a woman's fair.'
which struck the fancy of Wither's age and called forth
nearly as many replies and imitations as Raleigh's Lie, has
retained its popularity to this day.
We now come to a group of lyric poets who are closely
connected with Charles I and his court. With all his pedan-
try, James I had an appreciation of poetry, and he even
tried his own hand at verse composition, with sad results.
In Henry Glapthorne's White Hall (1642), we have five and
a half pages given to a eulogy of the Elizabethan era — the
JACOBEAN AND CAROLINE LYRIC ^5
glories of the Queen's court, the defeat of the Armada, the
bravery of Drake and Essex, but not a hne devoted to the
Elizabethan poets. Coming to James's reign, we are told
" The Muses then did flourish, and upon
My pleasant mounts planted their Helicon.
Then that great wonder of the knowing age,
Whose very name merits the amplest page
In Fame's fair book, admired Jonson stood
Up to the chin in the Pierian flood.
Quaffing crowned bowls of Nectar, with his bays
Growing about his temples ; chanting lays
Such as were fit for such a sacred ear
As his majestic Master's was, to hear.
Whom he so often pleased with (those mighty tasks
Of wit and judgment) his well laboured masks."
Charles was not only a greater lover of poetry than was his
father, but he was highly endowed with artistic tastes and
gifts ; he said that he could have earned his livelihood at any
of the arts except tapestry making. He was extremely fond
of music and could play on the viola da gamba, the prototype
of the modem violoncello. In sculpture and painting he had
the reputation of being the finest connoisseur in Europe, and
his love of the fine arts is strikingly shown, not only in the
many portraits of himself and of the royal family which he
commissioned Van Dyck to make, but by the superb collection
of pictures which he purchased, and which the Puritans, in
their ignorance, sold for a few pounds. It was the ambition
of Charles to make the English court famous in art and let-
ters ; the banqueting room of Whitehall was to have been
the most magnificent in all Europe, for Van Dyck was to have
decorated it at an expense of eighty thousand pounds. Per-
fectly versed in modern languages, Charles was well ac-
quainted with the French and Italian writers, and showed
the soundness of his literary tastes by his admiration for
U6 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
Shakespeare and Spenser. If we add to all this the fact that
Charles was of a romantic temperament, as his runaway
journey to see the Spanish Infanta startlingly shows (we
wonder why the historical novelist has overlooked this excit-
ing episode), it is quite natural that his court attracted and
inspired many a lyric poet.
Thomas Carew (1594-1639) studied at Oxford, had a
brief diplomatic career in Italy and at Paris, and was finally
made by Charles a gentleman of the bed-chamber. He be-
came a brilUant figure in court circles of which he was the
laureate, and though his poems were not pubhshed until after
his death, they were well known and made him honored for
his "delicate wit and poetic fancy." We are not surprised
when we read of him that he "pleased the ladies with his
courtly Muse."
The moment we open Carew's poems, we see in his first
lines, the Spring, an epitome of all his work.'^ In their de-
scriptive poems, especially of nature, the Elizabethans rev-
elled in a wealth of detail; here we have a complete picture
in twelve highly wrought couplets. It is art rather than
nature that we find in such verses as :
" Now that the winter's gone, the earth hath lost
Her snow-white robes ; and now no more the frost
Candies the grass, or casts an icy cream
Upon the silver lake or crystal stream."
Where the Elizabethans had passion, or at least deep senti-
ment, we have gallantry :
" Now all things smile; only my love doth lower,
Nor hath the scalding noon-day sun the power
To melt that marble ice, which still doth hold
Her heart congealed, and makes her pity cold."
1 Arthur \'incent, Poems of Thomas Carew, Muses' Library, London,
1899, p. 1.
JACOBEAN AND CAROLINE LYRIC 2^7
In place of high, Sidneyan devotion, we have compliment
expressed with epigrammatic point:
" Amyntas now doth with his Chloris sleep
Under a sycamore, and all things keep
Time with the season : only she doth carry
June in her eyes, in her heart January.''
If we may speak of two schools of lyric verse — the school
of Jonson and of Donne — we find that Carew is a son of Ben.
With all his age, he had a deep admiration for Donne, whom
he considered not only greater than Virgil and Tasso, but
"worth all that went before." His elegy upon him is no con-
ventional expression of mourning ; it shows a very clear per-
ception of Donne's genius, of his effect on English poetry,
and it is not often that contemporary criticism is so just in
its appreciation."^ We find in Carew's poems many verbal
reminiscences of Donne, faint echoes of his lines :
" Then though our bodies are disjoined,
As things that are to place confined,
Yet let our boundless spirits meet.
And in love's sphere each other greet;"
or
" This silken wreath, which circles in mine arm.
Is but an emblem of that mystic charm
Wherewith the magic of your beauties binds
My captive soul,"
but Donne's imagination, his intensity of emotion is not re-
flected even faintly in the poem which ends in antithesis and
epigram :
" That knot your virtue tied ; this, but your hands ;
That, Nature framed ; but this was made by art ;
This makes my arm your prisoner; that, my heart."^
1 Pp. 104, 100.
2 Pp. 29, 39.
^48 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
The last line, though much less effective, reminds us of
Jonson's
" They strike mine eyes, but not my heart."
If we wish to measure the diiference that separates Donne
from Carew, we have only to compare the former's Fever
with Carew's Song to his mistress "she burning in a fever."^
Carew had but little of Donne's "wit," and he can not be said
to have caught his manner in such poems as the one on "A
fly that flew into my mistress' eye," and which, playing about
Celia's cheek
" Sucked all the incense and the spice.
And grew a bird of paradise.
At last into her eye she flew,
There, scorched in flames and drowned in dew.
Like Phaethon from the sun's sphere,
She fell,"
or the Looking Glass
" whose smooth face wears
Your shadow, which a sun appears,
Was once a river of my tears.
" About your cold heart they did make
A circle, where the briny lake
Congealed into a crystal cake."^
It is as an artist that Carew lives ; his poems are "neat and
polished," to use his own phrase, and even the most trivial
are written with a care that provoked the ridicule of Suck-
ling:
ip. 47.
2 Pp. 53, 35.
JACOBEAN AND CAROLINE LYRIC
" Tom Carew was next, but he had a fault
That would not well stand with a laureat;
His muse was hide-bound, and th' issue of's brain
Was seldom brought forth but with trouble and pain."^
This is Carew's chief virtue, for lacking inspiration, he did
not simulate passion but was content to perfect his style,
charming the ear by a well-balanced line, by a delicate modu-
lation in the metre.
" Thy laboured works shall live, when Time devours
Th' abortive oflPspring of their hasty hours,"
he wrote to Jonson, defending him from his detractors, and
there are no hasty moments in Carew's writings.^ He does
not paint on a large canvas, but offers us miniatures ; every
stroke is well considered ; every simile is beautifully wrought,
as in the picture of the pilgrim drinking at the spring in his
Good Coimcil to a young Maid. The old fire has gone and
moderation takes its place. Carew is urged to write an elegy
on Gustavus Adolphus, but he knows his own limitations and
replies :
" Alas ! how may
My lyric feet, that of the smooth soft way
Of love and beauty only know the tread
In dancing paces, celebrate the dead
Victorious King."^
Not only in his style but in his thought does Carew show
the change that has taken place in lyric poetry. Graceful
compliment is his prevailing tone ; he never strikes deep.
^A Session of the Poets.
2 Carew, p. 91.
3 P. 104.
250 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
Carpe diem is his motto, yet the passing of beauty awakens
in him real sadness :
" But if your beauties once decay,
You never know a second May.
******
Spend not in vain your life's short hour
But crop in time your beauty's flower.
Which will away, and doth together
Both bud and fade, both blow and wither."^
His epitaphs, which bear the marks of Jonson's influence, are
more remarkable for their polish than for their pathos. In
his love poems, I find it diiBcult to discover the "sincere and
tender passion" which Mr. Gosse attributes to them.
" Give me more love or more disdain;
The torrid or the frozen zone
Bring equal ease unto my pain,
The temperate affords me none:
Either extreme of love or hate.
Is sweeter than a calm estate,"
writes Carew, but there is nothing of the old fervor of the
sonneteers in his songs. Sidney's Muse "tempers her words
to trampling horses feet" ; Carew's, to a "chamber melody,"
or to use his own phrase, to the "sweet airs of our tuned
violins."^ His poems are the love songs of the court, sere-
natas
" which the starved lover sings
To his proud fair, best quitted with disdain."
The old idealism has disappeared ; too often Carew's profli-
gate life is reflected in his verses, and though he praises,
"gentle thoughts and calm desires," though he writes
ip. 4.
2 Carew, pp. 16, 107.
JACOBEAN AND CAROLINE LYRIC 251
" But as you are divine in outward view,
So be within, as fair, as good, as true,"^
his mistress is not, as was Wither's, Fair Virtue.
We have contrasted Carew's spirit with that of the Eliza-
bethans ; in his two best lyrics their spirit is reflected, for
they are Caroline in style, Elizabethan in their sentiment.
The first two stanzas of "He that loves a rosy cheek" are
worthy of the best traditions of Elizabethan song; the con-
cluding stanza, utterly conventional, written in a different
metre — it seems to be a most unhappy afterthought — is
generally omitted in anthologies. Carew's masterpiece rises
beyond his mood of gallantry ; its music is richer, its feeling
deeper, and in its charm and grace we forget the courtier
and hear only the poet:
" Ask me no more where Jove bestows.
When June is past, the fading rose;
For in your beauty's orient deep
These flowers, as in their causes, sleep.
" Ask me no more whither do stray
The golden atoms of the day;
For in pure love heaven did prepare
Those powders to enrich your hair.
" Ask me no more if east or west
The phcEnix builds her spicy nest;
For unto you at last she flies.
And in your fragrant bosom dies."^
One of Carew's intimate friends at court was Sir John
Suckling (1609-1642). He studied at Cambridge, where he
was known as "a polite but not a deep scholar"; travelled
1 Ibid., p. 136.
2 P. 141. The popularity of this poem is shown by the fact that
it was turned into a political song. See A Collection of Royal Songs
written against the Rump Parliament, London, 1731, vol. I, p. 41. See
also the imitations and answers in the reprint of Musarum Deliciw. Wit
Restored, etc., London, N. D., vol. I, pp. 239-334.
252 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
abroad for three years; and joined the forty English gentle-
men volunteers who fought under Gustavus Adolphus. In
1632 he returned to Whitehall, where his gaiety, his wit, and
his lavish expenditures made him a favorite. He was a spend-
thrift ; he squandered his fortune ; and to repair his losses,
became a reckless gambler, the gossip of the day asserting
that he stooped to dishonorable methods to win. Certain it
is that his court Hfe ruined him. For the Scottish expedi-
tion he raised a company of one hundred horse, gorgeously
equipped at his own costs, but its career was brief and in-
glorious. Henrietta Maria admired Suckling — he had much
of the Gallic brilHancy — and at her instigation he engaged
in a plot to rescue Straiford from the Tower, but his plans
were discovered and he fled to Paris, where he died in pov-
erty and obscurity. The Puritans did their best to blacken
his memory; in the anonymous News from Rome (1641), we
are told that he had plotted to restore Catholicism. The
Pope, speaking of Englishmen, declares :
" But some there are who to me faithful were,
But they are gone, th' are fled I know not where;
My Goldfinch, Windebanke, my Suckling young,
Who could so well pray in our Roman tongue;
Are gone for fear of chiding; O they would
Have elevated me, if that they could."
Suckling's poems, as Carew's, were published post-
humously ; unlike Carew's, many of them bear the evident
marks of hasty composition. If we accept Suckhng's own
assertion, he had little regard for the art of writing, for
"he loved not the Muses so well as his sport," yet we feel in
reading him that he never showed the better side of his
nature ; that he was more thoughtful and sincere than he
appears in his verses.'' That the finest writing appealed to
1 A. H. Thompson, The Works of Sir John Suckling, London, 1910,
p. 11.
JACOBEAN AND CAROLINE LYRIC 253
him is shown by his preference for Shakespeare. He is one
of the few men of that age who repeatedly expresses an
admiration for him ; he imitates him in his plays, writes sup-
plementary verses for Lucrece, refers to him in a letter as
"my friend, Mr. William Shakespeare," and is painted by
Van Dyck, holding a copy of the plays in his hand.^ He
knew Donne's poems, for certain of his phrases reappear in
his own verses, and he has parodied Jonson's "Have you seen
but a bright lily grow." He was then well acquainted with
the work of the masters of lyric verse, yet he is not content
to imitate them, but seeks a style of his own.
In A Session of the Poets SuckUng declares that "A Laure-
at Muse should be easy and free"; he speaks admiringly of
"gentle Shakespeare's easier strain," in another place. It
is evident that his aim in verse was to appear straight-
forward, unaffected, and even careless. He would have
deemed it an honor to be called one of the "mob of gentle-
men who wrote with ease." His lyric Muse was not to be
wooed but to be jested with; nothing must smeU of the lamp,
every verse must have the light, careless tone of improvi-
sation. With such a method, if we may use so dignified a
term, he naturally cared little for the point and polish of
Carew. At times Suckling descends to epigram :
" Women enjoyed (whate'er before th' have been)
Are like romances read, or sights once seen:
Fruition's dull, and spoils the play much more
Than if one read or knew the plot before.
'Tis expectation makes a blessing dear;
Heaven were not heaven, if we knew what it were."^
This has the tone of the Augustan school, but such Hues are
not characteristic. His metres are the simplest, and if a
verse were rough, or a rhyme false, it did not disturb him.
1 Pp. 24, 332.
2 p. 18.
25i ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
As for "poetic diction," he scorned it. He adopted the con-
\ersational tone, and his language is that of everyday life,
almost monosyllabic in its simplicity :
" I prithee send me back my heart,
Since I cannot have thine:
For if from yours you will not part,
Why then shouldst thou have mine?
" But love is such a mystery,
I cannot find it out:
For when I think I'm best resolved,
I then am in most doubt.
" Then farewell care, and farewell woe,
I will no longer pine:
For I'll believe I have her heart
As much as she hath mine."'
In Congreve's Way of the World, Millimant, after repeating
Suckling's
" I prithee spare me, gentle boy;
Press me no more for that slight toy.
That foolish trifle of an heart,"
exclaims "Natural, easy Suckling." He would have desired
no higher praise.
His songs, set to music by Henry Lawes, are almost en-
tirely love poems, quite different in spirit from the lyrics of
the Elizabethans or from those of his friend Carew. Pope's
line altered to "Love is a jest, and all things show it" might
well be the motto for these light-hearted effusions, too trifling
in their tone to be contemptuous or even cynical. The son-
neteers loved to display their griefs ; Suckling informs the
"whining lover" that compared to his sufferings, "A finger
1 P. 49.
JACOBEAN AND CAROLINE LYRIC 265
burnt's as great a pain." Love is troublesome, but so are
debts :
" 'Tis only being in love and debt that breaks us of our rest ;
And he that is quite out of both, of all the world is blest."
There is no lover's melancholy in the moods of this poet ; he
haunts no "fall of fountains on a pathless grove," but is sat-
isfied with Blackfrairs and Whitehall. He never rises hun-
gry from the table from "much gazing on her face," as he
declares in a poem with the characteristic refrain :
" She's fair, she's wondrous fair.
But I care not who know it.
Ere I'll die for love, I'll fairly forego it."
The Elizabethans protested eternal devotion; three days'
constancy is a miracle of faithfulness to Suckling:
" Out upon it ! I have loved
Three whole days together.
And am like to love three more.
If it prove fair weather."^
His chief maxim in love is that fruition spoils all; admire at
a distance and care little; the very essence of his spirit is
contained in "Why so pale and wan, fond lover."
More distinctly than Carew, Suckling points to the
Restoration lyric ; he foretells the "town" in his mention of
patches, masks and hackney coaches; his wit, too, is not the
wit of Donne, for he has much of our modern humor:
" The little boy, to show his might and power.
Turned lo to a cow, Narcissus to a flower;
Transformed Apollo to a homely swain.
And Jove himself into a golden rain.
Such shapes were tolerable, but by th' mass!
He's metamorphosed me Into an ass."^
1 Pp. 23, 48, 47, 45.
2 P. 62.
256 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
Modern also are the little humorous touches in his master-
piece, The Ballad upon a Wedding, which portrays in a few
strokes the point of view of a country yokel: the ring too
large for the bride's finger, looking
" Like the great collar (just)
About our young colt's neck ;"
the comparison of the red and white of the bride's face to the
daisy or the streaks
" Such as are on a Katherne pear
(The side that's next the sun)."'
There is more dramatic characterization in these few stanzas
than in all his three plays.
We have said that SuckHng concealed beneath his jesting
a finer nature than the world granted to him ; we see the
deeper side of his character in
" When, dearest, I but think of thee,
Methinks all things that lovely be
Are present, and my soul delighted:"^
a poem written with unmistakable feeling and expressing not
the gallantry of Carew but a manly devotion. The world
remembers him only as a wit and a trifler, the author of
"The Devil take her" ; he openly slighted the Muse and this
is the retribution of such a rash contempt.
Richard Lovelace (1618-1658) studied at Oxford; fol-
lowed the King in the unfortunate Scottish expeditions of
1639 and 1640; and prominently identified himself with the
Royalists by presenting to Parliament in 1642 the Kentish
IP. 30. This poem won instant popularity; it constantly appears in
the verse collections and song books of the Restoration. Robert Baron
has an interesting adaptation of it in his Pocula Castalia, 1650, pp. 66-72.
He was a, warm admirer of Suckling and has two epigrams on "the
sweetest plant in the Pierian green."
2 P. 67.
JACOBEAN AND CAROLINE LYRIC 257
petition, praying for the restoration of the Bishops, Liturgy,
and Prayer Book. For this act he was imprisoned in the
Gate. House seven weeks, a fortunate punishment, for it led
him to compose To Althea from Prison. On his release, he
followed the fortunes of the King; took refuge on the conti-
nent, where he fought in the service of Louis XIV; and re-
turning to England, was again imprisoned in 164!8. To
beguile the tedium of captivity he prepared his poems
for publication, and they were issued under the title of
Lucasta in 164!9. He was released this same year; he had
given everything to the royal cause; and he died in poverty
if not in actual want, in 1659. From these simple facts of
the poet's life, it is difficult to understand the admiration he
inspired in his contemporaries. His character did not find
adequate expression, for he was neither a distinguished sol-
dier nor a great poet. Winstanley, writing a quarter of a
century after Lovelace's death, pays an exaggerated tribute
to him, yet it shows the judgment of his generation: "I can
compare no man so like this Colonel Lovelace as Sir Philip
Sidney .... both of them endued with transcendent sparks of
poetic fire, and both of them exposing their lives to the ex-
tremest hazard of doubtful war."'
As a lyric poet, Lovelace is singularly disappointing. He
has won immortality with two songs, whose note is not heard
again in all his writings. The two poems to Lucasta entitled
Going beyond the Seas and The Rose, are well-written lyrics ;
they stand out above the rest of his work, but they have no
touch of that nobility of feeling which distinguishes "Tell me
not, sweet," or "When Love with unconfined wings. "^ Like
Suckling, he cared nothing for the painful process of revision ;
he is satisfied with such lines as "Thou thee that's thine dost
discipline," but unlike Suckling, he can not assume a degage
1 Lives of the moat famous English Poets, London, 1687, p. 170.
2 The Poems of Richard Lovelace, Hutchinson's Popular Classics,
London, 1906, pp. 17, 33, 18, 69.
268 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
air which persuades the reader to overlook defects of work-
manship. Apparently Lovelace lacked the critical sense;
he could not separate the good from the bad in his writing.
Amyntor' s Grove is utterly conventional and uninteresting,
yet we find in it delicate and musical verses, which removed
from their context, might have lived; in a verse epistle to
The Lady A. L. occur lines, which printed alone, would form
a graceful lyric, but in their context they are forgotten.
Lacking Jonson's art, Lovelace is attracted by the wit of
Donne, but his conceits are trivial. The patch on Lucasta's
face is a bee seeking honey ; the poet's heart is a ball for
Cupid ; the snail is an "epitome of Euclid," a warlike
Scythian moving his men and cities, a hooded monk walking
in his cloister — a quaint conceit which partially atones for
the insipidity of the others. It can not be said then that
Lovelace is identified with any school ; he is a transitional
writer and if we have a faint reminiscence of Donne's method,
we have an anticipation of Dorset or Sedley in such a stanza
as
" Oh, she is constant as the wind
That revels in an evening's air !
Certain, as ways unto the blind,
More real than her flatteries are ;
Gentle, as chains that honour bind,
More faithful than an Hebrew Jew,
But as the Devil not half so true."'
One trait of Lovelace that points to later writers is his ob-
servation of animal Hfe ; he watches with interest the ant, the
grasshopper, the falcon, for Lovelace was not a courtier but
a country gentleman. There is quiet humor in his address
to the "great good husband, little ant" :
" Down with thy double load of that one grain ;
It is a grainery for all thy train."
1 P. 86 ; cf . The Scrutiny, p. 25.
JACOBEAN AND CAROLINE LYRIC
Better still is his grasshopper that swings
" upon the waving hair
Of some well filled oaten beard,
Drunk every night with a delicious tear
Dropt thee from Heaven, where now th'art reared."'
The tone of these poems recalls the fieldmouse of Robert
Burns.
In his two best lyrics, Lovelace has caught the finest spirit
of EHzabethan chivalry. "TeU me not, sweet," is the better
known, because of its concluding stanza, but it is not the
better poem. Though it is an ungracious task to criticise
an acknowledged classic, if we look critically at the second
stanza we find that its wit —
" True ; a new mistress now I chase,
The first foe in the field;" — •
seems a little out of place, and unworthy of the rest of the
song. To Althea is a more sustained piece of writing ; it has
a broader sweep:
" When (like committed linnets) I
With shriller throat shall sing
The sweetness, mercy, majesty.
And glories of my King;
When I shall voice aloud how good
He is, how great should be.
Enlarged winds that curl the flood
Know no such liberty."
Such a stanza contains the very essence of that unswerving
loyalty which the Stuarts were destined to inspire. For
more than a century that devotion found expression in the
finest political lyrics that any literature possesses ; the humor
1 Pp. 125, 35.
260 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
and pathos, the tenderness, the enthusiasm, the spirit of dar-
ing that animates these Jacobite songs won many a follower
to a desperate cause and their effect on the modern lyric has
been no small one. Scott and Burns owe some of their finest
stanzas to the forgotten writers of these deeply felt poems.
LoweU, who constantly showed towards the lesser poets a
certain lofty impatience, has characterized Lucasta as "dirt
and dullness." The first charge is unfair, for Lovelace is
free from the sensual taint that mars Carew's poems ; on the
other hand, it must be admitted that many of his poems are
wearisome reading. There is no half way point in his writ-
ings ; he reaches the two extremes, and in the greater part
of his book the worse prevails. Ten lyrics, at the most, are
worthy of remembrance ; it is a small number, yet two of
these are the finest expression in our language of the love,
honor, and loyalty of the Cavaliers.
We may consider at this point a group of minor poets,
who were outspoken Royalists. William Cartwright (1611-
1643) and Henry King (1592-1669), Bishop of Chichester,
enjoyed in their day a considerable reputation, yet they are
by no means inspired writers and their few lyrics need not
detain us.' Alexander Brome (1620-1666) had three themes
— love, loyalty, and above all, wine. His songs, written
to be sung in the tavern or the camp, have small literary
merit, but their lively stj'le made them popular. His love
poems, of whicli the Resolve is the best, adopt the attitude
of Suckling, for Brome imitates him freely. He is indeed
the laureate of wine ; he sings the praises of claret and
canary, sack and ale in no uncertain tones ; and even in his
Ro3'alist lyrics he seems ready to lay aside the sword for the
bottle. The Cavalier in prison consoles himself readily:
1 Cartwright's best poem, Valediction, is not included in the Oxford
Book of English Verse which prints King's touching elegy upon his wife,
one of the sincerest poems of the age. There is need of a new edition of
King.
JACOBEAN AND CAROLINE LYRIC 261
" Come pass about the bowl to me,
A health to our distressed King;
Though we're in hold, let cups go free,
Birds in a cage may freely sing."^
Perhaps the most attractive feature of these poems is their
recklessness. Without a doubt they inspired devotion for the
Stuarts, and Isaac Walton tells us in an "humble Eglog"
that these are the songs
" that we
Have sung so oft and merilie.
As we have marched to fight the cause
Of God's annointed, and our laws."
War songs are seldom effective in proportion to their literary
merit .^
A much more important figure is John Cleveland (1613-
1658), fellow of St. Johns, Cambridge, and for "about the
space of nine years, the delight and ornament of that
society." Driven from his college by the Puritans, he fol-
lowed the King, fighting valiantly with his pen. His satire.
The Rebel Scot, was one of the most effective blows struck
by either side.
Cleveland's poems on Jonson express the warmest admira-
tion, but he was attracted by the satiric rather than by the
lyric element in the elder poet's work. He attacks more
often than he sings. In his descriptive poems and in his
satires he adopts the "metaphysical" manner; in his few
lyrics — none are included in such anthologies as Palgrave's
Golden Treasury or the Oxford Book of English Verse —
he shows more vivacity than "wit." Th€ General Eclipse
lA. Brome, Songs and other Poems, third edition, 1668, p. 50.
2 If any proof of this statement Is needed, it is only necessary to
remember tiiat the doggerel, "When the King shall enj oy his own again,"
was the most popular song of the age. Ritson called it the most famous
song of any time or country.
262 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
is an interesting parody on Wotton's best lyric, "Ye meaner
beauties of the night" ; Mark Antony, with its good opening:
" When as the nightingale chanted her vespers
And the wild forester couched on the ground,"
has a lilt that foretells the Restoration song books and
D'Urfey:
" First on her cherry cheeks I mine eyes feasted.
Thence fear of surfeiting made me retire;
Next on her warmer lips, which, when I tasted.
My duller spirits made active as fire.
Then we began to dart.
Each at another's heart,
Arrows that knew no smart,
Sweet lips and smiles between.
Never Mark Antony
Dallied more wantonly
With the fair Egyptian Queen."^
We leave the minor poetry of the period with a brief notice
of two other well-known writers. Thomas Randolph (1605-
1635) was in residence at Cambridge until 1632, when he
forsook the university for London, attracted by the pleas-
ures of the town and by the reigning poets, especially Jonson.
He enjoyed life too recklessly and died before he had justi-
fied his reputation as a highly gifted and brilliant writer.
He lives in a single lyric, his delightful Ode to Master Staf-
ford to hasten Him into the Country, one of the best poems
on pastoral life written during this whole century. Randolph
is tired with "the chargeable noise of this great town," weary
of foppery and the war of wits :
" 'Tis time that I grow wise, when all the world grows mad,"
iJohn M. Berdan, The Poems of John Cleveland, New Haven, 1911,
pp. 158, 103.
JACOBEAN AND CAROLINE LYRIC
he cries, and so he spurs away to see "old simplicity," to
watch "the wholesome country girls make hay," and to hear
the choir of birds. There is nothing conventional in such
writing; every verse rings true.
Thomas Stanley (1625-1678) wrote many songs; over
eighty of them were given a musical setting by John Gamble
in his Ayres and Dialogues, 1657, who finds that they possess
"flowing and natural graces" for the words are "pure har-
mony in themselves." Though correctly written, these lyrics
lack the inward touch; they are of the school of Carew, yet
have neither his charm nor sentiment. With Donne, Stanley
writes of a bracelet of hair, "This mystic wreath which crowns
my arm," but his verses are merely a formal compHment. At
his best he has something of Jonson's simple, direct style in
the Relapse, or in the song:
" I prithee let my heart alone !
Since now 'tis raised above thee:
Not all the beauty thou dost own
Again can make me love thee."'
Ill
The greatest of Jonson's sons was Robert Herrick (1591-
1674), in turn a goldsmith's apprentice, a student at Cam-
bridge, a poet at London dependent on the patronage of
courtiers, a chaplain to Buckingham's expedition to the Isle
of Rhe, and finally a country parson, vicar of Dean Prior,
Devonshire. He was a Royalist at heart ; in several poems he
expresses attachment to the King and his cause, yet he
mourns over the troubled times principally because they are
untunable and unfit for song. After nineteen years at Dean
Prior, he was ejected by the Puritans in 1648, and returning
to London, brought out that same year his Hesperides. In
1662 he was restored to his vicarage, where he died in 1674,
1 L. I. Guiney, Thomas Stanley, Hull, 1907, p. 65.
^6i ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
the year of Milton's death. He pubHshed but one poem, and
that a poor one, after the appearance of the Hesperides}
In a previous chapter, we spoke of the neglect that over-
took Shakespeare's sonnets ; the Hesperides had even a harder
fate. Quite contrary to the custom of the day, they were
published without any commendatory verses. Though Her-
rick was a son of Ben and addresses him most famiharly,
Jonson never mentions his name ; he is not included in Suck-
hng's Session of the Poets, and the earliest allusion to the
Hesperides, a Latin couplet prefixed to Lucasta, actually
ranks Lovelace with Herrick. Three lines in the Mmarum
Delicice (1656) ; a really appreciative stanza in Naps upon
Parnassus (1658) f a ridiculously patronizing reference in
Phillips's Theatrum Pcetarum Anglorum (1675) is all that
we hear of Herrick until 1796, when some articles concerning
him appeared in the Gentleman's Magazine. To show how
completely he had been forgotten, when Giles Jacobs brought
out in 1723 his Poetical Register, or Lives of all the English
Poets, though he was assisted by Congreve, "the celebrated
Mr. Prior," and many others, no one had heard of Herrick's
name. Scores of poetasters are noticed in this work ; Her-
rick had passed entirely from the memories of English poets
and readers, one more illustration of the vanity of contem-
porary criticism.
Though the world of letters long neglected him, though
the fame he desired was long delayed, the unlettered peasants
repeated his verses ; his wassail and harvest songs, his Christ-
mas glees, were handed down from father to son. There
must have been many country squires who, with Irving's host
1 The New Charon. Upon the Death of Henry Lord Hastings.
2 " And then Flaccus Horace,
He was but a sour-ass,
And good for nothing but Lyricks.
There's but one to be found
In all English ground.
Writes as well, who is hight Robert Herrick."
JACOBEAN AND CAROLINE LYRIC 265
at Bracebridge Hall, would have nothing but "Herrick's
good old English songs." In 1810, a visitor at Dean Prior
found a woman of ninety years who had repeated from child-
hood Herrick's Litany, and knew a few traditions concern-
ing the poet ; as late as 1843 Mr. King wrote : "Many of the
spells, charms, bits of folk lore that are scattered through
his volumes are still to be found in his parish and in a flour-
ishing condition."^
Though the Hesperides had no effect upon the develop-
ment of the lyric, Herrick drew inspiration from the classic
lyric and from the songs of Jonson. Catullus, Ovid, Martial,
Theocritus, Anacreon, are easily discernible in his poems,
sometimes in direct translation, oftener by allusion or free
imitation. It is with Horace that he has the closest affinity,
for with as much art and with greater color and feeling, he
repeats the Horatian warnings of the inevitable approach of
death and of the brief time given us to pluck the joys of life.
This classical influence never fetters him ; there is not the
slightest air of pedantry in his imitations ; and his trans-
lations, especially those of Anacreon, in their lightness and
graceful finish rank with his best work.
It is a rather remarkable fact that the greatest of the sons
of Ben was not a dramatist but a lyric poet. Herrick leaves
no doubt as to his indebtedness to the "best of poets," whom,
in his Elysium, he places above Catullus, Pindar and Homer,
and the number and nature of his references to his "father
Ben" can hardly be paralleled in the case of any other poet
of the period and one of his followers. They express more
than friendship and admiration ; Herrick asks Jonson to aid
him "when he a verse would make," and these words are not
altogether figurative. From Jonson's Underwoods, and
Forest, Herrick, to use his own phrase, has "adopted" several
poems and at times the imitation is very exact. As has been
often pointed out, "Still to be neat, still to be drest," evi-
i Quarterly Review, 1810; Fraser") Magazine, vol. 47, p. 103.
266 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
dently inspired Herrick's charming poems on clothes —
"When I behold a forest spread," and "A sweet disorder in
the dress,"^- — while "Drink to me only with thine eyes" re-
echoes in Herrick's:
" Reach, with your whiter hands to me
Some crystal of the spring;
And I about the cup shall see
Fresh lilies flourishing.
" Or else, sweet nymphs, do you but this,
To th' glass your lips incline;
And I shall see by that one kiss
The water turned to wine."
Or, more plainly, in :
" 'Twas but a single rose.
Till you on it did breathe.
But since, methinks, it shows
Not so much rose as wreath."^
Herrick's exquisite Night-Piece to Julia far surpasses the
following song from Jonson's masque, The Gypsies Metamor-
phosed, though certainly modeled upon it :
" The faery beam upon you.
The stars to glister on you;
A moon of light.
In the noon of night.
Till the fire-drake hath o'ergone you."'
To point out actual imitation, similarities in thought and
diction, does not bring us to the heart of the matter; it is
more important to notice how completely Herrick escaped
1 A. W. Pollard, Herrick's Works, Muses' Library, London, 1891, vol.
1, pp. 354, 32, 232.
2 Pp. 232, 61.
JACOBEAN AND CAROLINE LYRIC 267
the influence of Donne. Though he loves to play with a sub-
ject, to repeat with variations one idea, there are scarcely
a dozen poems in the Hesperides containing strained conceits
or fantastic ingenuity of thought. This may well be due to
Jonson's influence and it is certain that Herrick's self-
critical spirit, his sense of art, was fostered by Jonson's pre-
cept and practice. In no small degree, Jonson's fame as a
lyric poet will rest upon this fact. Since in this instance
the disciple is above his master, we may apply to the verses
of Herrick the hne which Jonson placed over his own child's
grave :
" Ben Jonson his best piece of poetry."^
Whether or not Herrick is our foremost lyric poet is a
subject for critical discussion; that he is one of our foremost
artists is unquestionable. Because at times he condescended
to carve cherry stones ; because he illuminated the pages of
a manuscript when others spread whole landscapes on their
canvas, we should not forget how remarkable is his technique.
He lacked romantic passion, he was not one of those who had
loved much, but to some men art is as real a mistress as one
of flesh and blood ; to certain natures, the beauty of a splen-
did line of poetry appeals as strongly as the beauty of a fair
face. Endowed with artistic perception above his fellows,
able to give to his songs the crowning touch, he had that
rarest gift — the power to conceal his art. In his Farewell
to Sack he exclaims
" what's done by me
Hereafter shall smell of the lamp, not thee,"
but he belies himself, and so supreme is his skill that song
after song seems to be unpremeditated, full of those "name-
1 1 have discussed this more fully in "Herrick's Indebtedness to Ben
Jonson," Modern Language Notes, December, 1902.
268 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
less graces that no art can teach." In Elizabethan poetry,
we find splendid lyrical passages, unforgettable lines that we
may detach from their setting, but Herrick's poems are com-
plete. We cast aside the last stanza of Carew's "He that
loves a rosy cheek," or of Browne's "Underneath this sable
hearse" ; we discard line after line of Crashaw's Wishes to
his supposed Mistress, and thereby improve indisputably
these poems, but we would not touch a syllable in To
Meadows, To CEnone, To Anthea — the Hst is an unending
one. Herrick's aim never exceeded his reach; he kept in
sight perfection and obtained it. There are in the Hesperides
no lines more significant than the simple couplet :
" Better 'twere my book were dead,
Than to live not perfected."'
Herrick's volume consisted of two parts- — the Hesperides
and the Noble Numbers, or His Pious Pieces. His rehgious
poems are distinctly inferior to his secular verse, for though
a passage in his Farewell to Poetry apparently proves that
he voluntarily took orders, not driven to the priesthood by
need, yet his Farewell to Sack has more feeling in it than
we find in all but a few of his sacred poems.^ He has none of
Herbert's spiritual conflicts, nothing of Vaughan's mysticism
or of Crashaw's glowing emotion. Keenly sensitive to the
beautiful, it is a material loveliness that attracts him, and
his religion is one of incense and of floral oflf^erings. This
absence of mysticism is best seen in a little poem on the Com-
munion, where Herrick looks chiefly at the golden altar with
its covering of figured damask.' There is a simplicity of
spirit in his religious verse that recalls the lyrics of the
miracle plays :
iVol. I, p. 59.
2 Vol. II, p. 265, a poem not included in the Hesperides; vol. I, p. 53.
3 Vol. II, p. 191.
JACOBEAN AND CAROLINE LYRIC
" Go, pretty child, and bear this flower
Unto thy little Saviour;
And tell Him, for good handsel too,
That thou hast brought a whistle new,
Made of a clean straight oaten reed,
To charm His cries at time of need."^
He sings the birth of Prince Charles in much the same way,
and his shepherds bring the same offerings to him. Her-
rick's carols are especially good, with their quaint touches,
as when he calls Christ the "Lord of all this revelling," or
" Our pretty twelfth-tide King,
* * * * *
And when night comes we'll give him wassailing."^
Mr. Gosse has pointed out that Herrick is at his best when
his religious poems are most secular, when he can describe
the flowers brought to Christ or sing a dirge for Jephthah's
daughter. He is the artist who makes the shrine, not the
saint who kneels before it. He wishes in his old age some
hermitage where
" the remnant of my days I'd spend,
Reading Thy Bible and my Book; so end."'
The order is significant, and we suspect that Herrick's read-
ing would be chiefly the Hesperides.
There are in the Noble Numbers several poems marked by
the sincerest feeling — poems of repentance and gratitude.
His material view of life makes his Thanksgiving to God for
1 No. 59.
2 Pp. 206, 308.
3 P. 313.
270 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
his House one of his finest pieces. In the hands of many
writers the list he gives of his humble possessions would be
ineffective, even grotesque :
" The worts, the purslain, and the mess
Of water cress,
*****
Thou mak'st my teeming hen to lay
Her egg each day."^
In his Litany to the Holy Spirit, he shows an intensity of
emotion which does not appear elsewhere in his verse :
" When the flames and hellish cries
Fright mine ears, and fright mine eyes,
And all terrors me surprise.
Sweet Spirit, comfort me !"^
Such lines sound strangely amid the songs of flowers and
spices.
It is in the Hesperides that Herrick's art finds its most
perfect expression. Whatever he owed to the classic writers
or to his "Saint Ben," he is one of the most original of lyrists,
and his province is all his own. He had no followers in his
own day ; in our own times, he has no imitators, for the ob-
jectivity of so much of his work is alien to our mood. Yet
the personal note in his writings is decidedly modem, and
modern too is his love for nature. Herrick's parish was a
small one ; his people "rude and churlish as the sea" ; and it
is scarcely difficult to understand the inconsistencies in his
lyrics, his praise of Devonshire mingled at times with expres-
sions of utter contempt for it. Cut off' from his London
friends and lyric feasts, he turned with genuine delight to
IP. 184.
2 P. 181.
JACOBEAN AND CAROLINE LYRIC 271
the rustic life about him. Though his Julias and Dianemes
live in a world of fancy, a world of spices and silks, there is
no conventionality in his songs of the country. He saw
more in the pastoral life than did his contemporaries, yet
his vision was limited, for he is the singer of meadows and of
blossoms. There is a refinement in his descriptive touches,
a delicacy in his flower songs quite different from the hearti-
ness of Heywood's "Pack clouds away and welcome day,"
yet this delicacy of treatment is far removed from artifi-
ciality, and though he sought for new and difficult verse
forms, they never restrained his thought nor impeded the
song-like flow of his style. There are no more exquisite lines
on flowers than To Primroses, To Daffodils, or To Blossoms.
They combine the triumph of art — ^the songs themselves are
as fragile as the flowers they celebrate — with a sympathy,
and a tenderness for the short-lived "whimpering younglings."
Herrick has been reproached for lacking that strength
of emotion seen in the songs of the Elizabethans, and it is
said that many a minor lyrist has shown a depth of feeling
he never reached. When he so wished, he could write a
spirited love song:
" Thou art my life, my love, my heart,
The very eyes of me:
And hast command of every part
To live and die for thee,"^
but as he concealed his art, so he chose to conceal his emo-
tion. He has been called a trifler, but there is too much
pathos in his work to justify that epithet. He is the singer
of flowers and meadows, but his songs are elegies. We think
of him as the poet of May and of the joys of fields and
woods, but he never forgets the fast-approaching end of all
that charms him :
iVol. I, p. 135.
^n ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" But you are lovely leaves^ where we
May read how soon things have
Their end, though ne'er so brave:
And after they have shown their pride
Like you awhile, they glide
Into the grave. "^
His emotion is the more poignant because it is restrained.
With all his love for the earth, with his delight in jewels,
silks and spices, he can not lose sight of the shadow of death.
His mistresses in their taffetas and laces, fragrant with
those perfumes that so pleased him, are flowers blooming for
the moment:
" You are a tulip seen to-day,
But, dearest, of so short a stay
That where you grew, scarce man can say."^
He can not rid himself of this thought ; he recurs to it again
and again, expressing it nowhere more perfectly than in
"Sweet, be not proud of those two eyes." As he gazes on the
beauty of Dianeme, he bids her forget the star-light sparkle
of her eyes, the wealth of her rich hair, for her ruby
" Will last to be a precious stone
When all your world of beauty's gone."'
Here is no graceful compKment, no gallant serenade, but
a lament at the irony of fate, the tragedy of life. In a
poem containing his finest qualities — his love of nature, his
graceful description, his musical expression — we find the
same note. After he has pictured to Corinna the lovehness
1 P. 221.
2 P. 108.
3 p. 74.
JACOBEAN AND CAROLINE LYRIC
of the May day, the pleasures of the budding boys and girls
gone a-Maying, he forgets the spring and its flowers :
" Our life is short, and our days run
As fast away as does the sun.
And, as a vapour or a drop of rain
Once lost, can ne'er be found again.
So when or you or I are made
A fable, song, or fleeting shade.
All love, all liking, all delight
Lies drowned with us in endless night.
Then, while time serves, and we are but decaying,
Come, my Corinna, come, let's go a-Maying."^
The poet who stands nearest Herrick in his love of
nature — at times he surpasses him — is Andrew Marvell
(1621-1678). He was educated at Trinity College, Cam-
bridge, travelled on the continent, and in 1650 was taken
by Lord Fairfax to his Yorkshire estate, to be the tutor of
his daughter. Here, in the retirement of the country, Mar-
vell composed his finest poems Upon Appleton House, the
Horatian Ode, The Garden, On a Drop of Dew, and in all
probability, The Nymph Complaining for the Death of her
Fawn. Fairfax delighted in poetry, but could not write it,
though he made many attempts. Undoubtedly he encouraged
MarveU, but the young tutor's lyric period was a brief one.
As Milton's colleague in the Latin secretaryship, and later, as
member of Parliament from Hull, he became absorbed in
politics ; in place of nature poems, he wrote verse satires,
brutally frank, or pamphlets full of vigorous, ironical prose.
English history gained a patriot at a time when honesty and
courage seemed forgotten virtues ; the English lyric is the
poorer since it possesses not the achievement, but the promise
of Andrew Marvell.
If Herrick avoided Donne's influence, Marvell shows it
most plainly. He never mentions Donne's name; he does
IP. 84.
%llp ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
not imitate any one poem, or even lift any phrase, but the
spirit of Donne is in many a line. At times he can be as
fantastic as any of the metaphysical poets :
" Tears (watery shot that pierce the mind,)
And sighs (Love's cannon filled with wind;)"
and the Dean of St. Paul's might have written such stanzas
as:
" My love is of a birth as rare
As 'tis, for object, strange and high;
It was begotten by Despair,
Upon Impossibility.
# * * * *
" As lines, so love's oblique, may well
Themselves in every angle greet:
But ours, so truly parallel.
Though infinite, can never meet."^
As a rule Marvell's conceits are quaint and charming rather
than extravagant and grotesque. We see this in such a
couplet as
" And stars show lovely in the night.
But as they seem the tears of light,"^
and better in these stanzas from The Mower to the Glow
Worms :
" Ye living lamps, by whose dear light
The nightingale does sit so late.
And studying all the summer night.
Her matchless songs does imitate;
1 G. A. Aitken, Poems of Andrew Marvell, Muses' Library, London,
1892, pp. 31, 73, 74.
2 P. 37. Cf. Sully Prudhomme, La Voie LacUe :
" £tes-vous touj ours en prifere ?
£tes-vous des astres bless6s?
Car ce sent des pleurs de lumi^re,
Non des rayons, que vous versez."
JACOBEAN AND CAROLINE LYRIC 275
" Ye country comets, that portend
No war nor prince's funeral,
Shining unto no higher end
Than to presage the grass's fall."'^
Such verses show plainly what Lamb has called the "witty
delicacy" of Marvell.
The themes of Marvell are not those of Donne ; he lacked
the romantic temperament and writes coldly of women.
Only one of his love poems is worthy of him ; it has some-
thing of Donne's wit, and far more important, fine moments
of imagination and passion, for Marvell is continually hint-
ing at greater things. His Coy Mistress has the same theme
as Herrick's Corvnna, but not Herrick's art. Contrasted
with this poem, Marvell's octosyllabics are rough and un-
finished; his humor seems out of keeping and too grotesque.
He tells his coy love that the days haste away ; if there were
time
" I would
Love you ten years before the flood,
And you should, if you please, refuse
Till the conversion of the Jews."
Then, in this quaint tirade, he pauses and cries with an in-
tensity of emotion which Herrick never expressed:
" But at my back I always hear
Time's winged chariot hurrying near,
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast eternity.
******
Let us roll all our strength and all
Our sweetness up into one ball.
And tear our pleasures with rough strife.
Thorough the iron gates of life."^
1 P. 89.
2 Pp. 56, ST.
^76 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
Never again does this mood seize him ; instead of love poems,
he writes verses to children, "young beauties of the woods."
If Marvell forsook the greatest lyric theme of all, he at
least brought new ones to English verse. Through the
Elizabethan period, when Italian influence was supreme, the
patriotism of the Italian sonneteers was never imitated; we
have no sonnets, no odes to England or to English leaders,
whereas the Italian poets took the deepest interest in the
political fortunes of their towns or provinces. Marvell con-
sidered Cromwell to be the savior of his country ; moved by
the sincerest admiration for him he became his laureate.
Where other poets flattered subserviently, he praised boldly
and, on the whole, justly, though he is not free from certain
absurd touches of adulation. We can hardly call his elegy
on Cromwell a lyric, for it is rather a descriptive poem, rising
at times to a Miltonic diction :
" When up the armed mountains of Dunbar
He marched, and through deep Severn, ending war,"
with lines that move with the rugged strength of Cromwell's
Ironsides:
" Thee, many ages hence, in martial verse
Shall the English soldier, ere he charge, rehearse;"^
but his Horatian Ode upon CromwelV s Return from Ireland
falls well within our province. It is one of the most success-
ful attempts to reproduce in English the effect of Horace's
close-knit stanzas. Abandoning the experiment of forcing
English thought into a Latin metre — a tour de force which
diverts the reader's mind from the substance of the poem —
he uses his own difficult measure with such success that we
forget his metrical skill in admiring the nobility of thought
and the dignity of expression as he praises the man
iPp. 160, 165.
JACOBEAN AND CAROLINE LYRIC 277
" Who from his private gardens, where
He lived reserved and austere
(As if his highest plot
To plant the bergamot;)
" Could by industrious valour climb
To ruin the great work of time.
And cast the kingdoms old,
Into another mould."^
It is more than a century before the English lyric can equal
this.
Turning to Marvell's nature poenms, we find their spirit
astonishingly modern ; he views nature not as an artist but
as a lover. He belonged to his generation, for he was the
poet of meadows and woods, and with Howell regarded
mountains as "hook-shouldered excrescences." Summer was
his season; the warm earth with its flowers and fruits, his
delight ; he says little of sky or clouds. Keen in his observa-
tion, nature is to him an end ; his descriptions are not orna-
ments to his poems. There is all the languor and luxury of
a summer's day in the tropical richness of his Garden. Here
and in his Nymph Complaining for the Death of her Fawn,
he has the sensuousness of Keats. "I stood tip-toe upon a
little hill" is more delicate ; it has a greater wealth of detail
and a finer finish; but its spirit differs in no wise from that
of Marvell's verses.
But Marvell sees more than the loveliness of the earth; he
has a touch of that transcendentalism that characterizes our
modem conception of nature. Overpowered by the beauty
about him he cries, in Wordsworth's spirit:
" Thrice happy he, who, not mistook.
Hath read in Nature's mystic book!"
ip. 134.
278 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
He becomes a part of the life around him ; he confers with
birds and trees ; he casts aside the "body's vest" ; his soul flies
into the boughs and
" TherCj like a bird, it sits and sings,
Then whets and combs its silver wings."
The visible world disappears, and the mind creates other
regions for itself
" Annihilating all that's made
To a green thought in a green shade."^
No other Enghsh poet had approached nature in this spirit.
Marvell's poems are lyrical because of the intensity of
his feeling ; even those poems which he has entitled songs do
not suggest a musical accompaniment. His verse is too com-
pact, too overladen with thought and emotion for the lute's
melody of
" lesser intervals, and plaintive moan
Of sinking semitone."
The lyric is becoming more and more an art form, inde-
pendent of music. We see this in the song of the English
emigrants in the Bermudas, a poem worth all the pages of
Tom Moore's lyrical description of these islands.
IV
In this age when men went to war for their faith we look
for writers of the religious lyric; we find them in Herbert,
Crashaw, and Vaughan.
George Herbert (1593-1633), distinguished at Cambridge
and at the court, entered the church in 1626 ; in 1630 he was
made priest at Bemerton, where he died. On his deathbed
he sent the manuscript of the Temple to Nicholas Ferrar,
iPp. 26, 100.
JACOBEAN AND CAROLINE LYRIC 279
who published it within a few months. It became popular
at once and six editions were brought out in eight years.
Though Herbert was not the first Englishman to compose
religious lyrics, he created a new school of verse. The reli-
gious poetry before him had been Scriptural paraphrases
(chiefly of the Psalms), penitential verses, hymns, and medi-
tations. Generally, as in the case of Ben Jonson, they formed
but a small part of any writer's work; often, especially
in the sonnet sequences, they served as foils for the secular
verse. No poet, except Southwell, had written rehgious
poetry exclusively ; no one had analyzed the religious expe-
rience, or pondered deeply on the life of the spirit, or re-
corded the defeats and victories of his own soul. Herbert,
therefore, adopted deliberately a style and a theme for which
he had no models. As an undergraduate he had regretted
that poetry wore the livery of Venus ; as a priest he felt the
need of expressing his own spiritual conflicts and thus from
piety, from the impulse of confession and the desire to give
sorrow words, sprang the lyrics of the Temple.
Among Herbert's warmest friends was John Donne; in
his poetic method Herbert stands with him and not with the
Elizabethans, for his keen and brilliant mind expressed itself
readily in Donne's manner. We certainly can not say that
without Donne's poems the Temple would not have been
written, yet without his example Herbert's book would not
have assumed its present form. To us Herbert's conceits
may seem too ingenious to be anything but artificial, but
they are not a mere ornament to his verse, for he uses them
when he is most deeply moved. Because the great emotions
of life do not vary from generation to generation, we forget
that the natural method of expressing these feelings has
constantly changed. When Herbert calls aloud to England:
"Spit out thy phlegm and fill thy breast with glory," he is
not endeavoring to startle us by a strange phrase ; he is
deeply stirred and wishes to arouse his country. Few of his
^80 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
poems contain more conceits than Sunday — the sabbath is
man's face while the week days are his body; Sundays are
the pillars of Heaven's palace while the other days are the
empty spaces between them ; Sundays are the pearls threaded
to adorn the bride of God — yet Walton asserts that Herbert
sang this song on his deathbed. He has many conceits that
mar his work — we could do without the comparison of spring
to a box of sweetmeats in "Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so
bright" — yet they are an essential element in his writing.
Like Donne, Herbert is impatient of melody ; his verse is
grave and lacks the sweetness of Crashaw's hymns. Though
full of striking felicities of phrase, his lyrics are rarely metri-
cally perfect throughout. He knew the work of the sonnet-
eers and in the style of their sonnets on sleep he composed
one on prayer:
" Prayer, the Churches banquet, angel's age,
God's breath in man returning to his birth.
The soul in paraphrase, heart in pilgrimage,
The Christian plummet sounding heaven and earth;"'
but there is little of Elizabethan music here. His most im-
pressive sonnet, My comforts drop and melt like snow, has
a splendid opening and is suffused with the deepest feeling,
but it too, drops and melts into such a line as "But cooling
by the way, grows pursy and slow."^ He envied, so he said,
"no man's nightingale or spring" ; he lacks the graces of
his contemporaries ; yet The Quip, The Collar, Virtue, have
a music rarer than the facile strains of the earlier age. At
his best he has a sober harmony that grows in impressive-
ness the more it is heard, for with few exceptions, the musical
appeal of Herbert's verse is not an immediate one.
The great value of Herbert's lyrics consists in their reve-
IG. H. Palmer, English Works of Oeorge Herbert, Boston, 1905,
vol. II, p. 181.
2 P. 351.
JACOBEAN AND CAROLINE LYRIC 281
lation of his character, for the religious lyric gains in power
according to the degree in which it discloses a man's soul.
In many of the lyrics we see the struggle for holiness, but
more impressive is his struggle for peace; this it is that
makes him such a human figure. The average man does not
long for spiritual perfection, but he does desire the calm
and steadfast mind. What Herbert could not say from the
pulpit he wrote in his lyrics. Of a noble family, the friend
of courtiers and the King, famed for his scholarship and wit,
he found himself ministering to the needs of fifty peasants —
his little church would not hold more. He could not forget
the things of earth, his old dreams and hopes of worldly
greatness; he is "full of rebellion," and longs to fight, to
travel, to deny his service.^ Sickness and doubt overtake
him ; he has drunk from a bitter bowl ; he believes his nature
has been thwarted:
" Whereas my birth and spirit rather took
The way that takes the town.
Thou didst betray me to a lingring book,
And wrap me in a gown."
He feels that he has accomplished nothing in the world, that
the struggle naught availeth :
" Now I am here, what thou wilt do with me
None of my books will show.
I read, and sigh, and wish I were a tree,
For sure then I should grow
To fruit or shade. At least some bird would trust
Her household to me, and I should be just."^
He is constantly reproaching himself with his empty days;
the very plants and bees do more than he :
" Poor bees that work all day
Sting my delay."
IP. 303.
2 P. 339.
ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
When, moreover, we remember that the world and its train-
bands still call him ; that Beauty creeps into a rose and
tempts him ; that he feels the scorn of "proud Wit and Con-
templation," we can understand why he writes so often on
affliction. The frankness of these poems points to a new era
in the lyric ; Herbert conceals nothing, and his heart, so he
tells us, bleeds on his writing.
It must not be presumed that these lyrics are depressing
reading; with few exceptions they are not morbid, for Her-
bert has reconciled these unhappy experiences with a divine
plan to bring the soul to felicity. This restlessness and dis-
content is thrust upon him to draw his soul to God :
"If goodness lead him not, yet weariness
May toss him to my breast."'
The lyrics of the Temple lead not to pessimism but to hope.
Looking at the lyrics from the artistic standpoint. Virtue,
to which Isaac Walton has given a perfect prose setting,
deserves its popularity, for it is the most beautiful of all his
poems. The Elixir is equally well known, because of those
lines quoted as frequently as Pope's epigrams :
" Who sweeps a room but for thy cause
Makes that and the action fine,"
but more characteristic than either of these two lyrics is Man.
It has his peculiar music, his quaintness of style, and deep
thought :
" Man is all symmetry,
Full of proportions, one limb to another.
And all to all the world besides.
Each part may call the farthest, brother;
For head with foot hath private amity.
And both, with moons and tides.^
1 Vol. Ill, p. 149.
2 Vol. II, p. 217.
JACOBEAN AND CAROLINE LYRIC
The lyrics of Herbert make a man look more deeply both
into his own heart and into the world about him.
Richard Crashaw (1613?-164!9), son of a bitter opponent
of Rome, was driven by the Puritans in 1644 from Peter-
house, Cambridge, where he was a feUow. He turned Cath-
oKc, fled to Italy, and died a lay priest at the famous shrine
of Loretto. He lived far from the world; his life history
is a series of spiritual experiences to be read in his poems.
He never stands apart from his work ; his sensitive and emo-
tional temperament is disclosed in every page of his writ-
ings. He fell on evil days, yet even in a time of peace his
story would have been a simple one — that of a dreamer and
a recluse.
During the twelve years Crashaw spent at Cambridge, he
came under the influence of Spanish mysticism and chose
Theresa of Avila as his Saint. When we say that her
visions and ecstasies were his spiritual food, we have defined
both his character and his poetry. He made St. Mary's
church his home and offered there more prayers at night
than others did in the day. Little Gidding is near Cam-
bridge ; he was a frequent visitor at this retreat ; and the
vigils and prayers of this household intensified his fervor.
Many of his religious lyrics are not songs, but the impas-
sioned cry of his soul; he writes hymns but they are too
glowing and mystical to be hymns of the church. His sacred
verse has never been adopted by English Catholics ; it holds
no such place as Herbert's Temple, which is read as much
for its religious spirit as for its poetry.
It is not difficult to discover why Crashaw has a fit
audience, but few. He declares that in spiritual matters
there is no distinction of race or country. Speaking of St.
Theresa he says:
" What soul soe'er, in any language, can
Speak Heaven like hers, is my soul's countryman."
ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
Yet fine as the thought may be, for most of us it is not the
truth. With all his tolerance, the author of the Religio
Medici realized that there was "a geography of religions as
well as lands," and there is an unmistakable difference be-
tween English and Spanish religious thought and emotion.
There have been English mystics since the days of Richard
Rolle, yet Crashaw seems un-English. He has nothing of
Quarles's dull morality, Herbert's expression of doubts and
discouragements common to us all, or of Vaughan's moral
interpretation of nature. His poems, the product of long
fasts and prayers, are the work of an ascetic ; they have a
tropical air and seem to have been written under warmer
skies. He fed on the mystical writings of St. Theresa until
he trembles in his ecstasy ; his fervor is unquestionably as
sincere as it is intense, but to the lay mind its "immortal
kisses," "flames," and "bleeding wounds" are somewhat in-
comprehensible. He sings of a spiritual love with
" Amorous languishments ; luminous trances ;
Spiritual and soul-piercing glances.
Delicious deaths, soft exhalations
Of soul ; dear and divine annihilations."^
Much nearer our modern thought are Newman's deprecations
of these "brightest transports" which "bloom their hour and
fade" :
" But he who lets his feelings run
In soft luxurious flow.
Shrinks when hard service must be done.
And faints at every woe."^
1 A. R. Waller, Poems by Richard Crashaw, Cambridge, 1904, p. 280.
2 Flowers without Fruit.
JACOBEAN AND CAROLINE LYRIC 285
If we consider the artistic import of these lyrics, we find
them brilliant in color, musical in their expression, and thrill-
ing in an emotional power that recalls Shelley and Swin-
burne. They are filled with such splendid phrases as
" Whose blush the moon beauteously mars^
And stains the timorous light of stars ;"
with such stanzas as
" Not in the Evening's eyes
When they red with weeping are
For the sun that dies,
Sits sorrow with a face so fair."'
The final apostrophe to "the seraphical Saint Theresa" in
the poem upon her book and picture is unequalled in all the
range of the religious lyric.
Crashaw's secular verse lacks the enthusiasm of his hymns,
yet it has their music and color. His two most graceful love
lyrics are a translation from the Italian, "To thy lover, dear
discover," and his well-known Wishes to his supposed Mis-
tress, a poem which shows his defects as well as his virtues.
He was too versatile — an engraver, musician, and poet —
and he expressed himself too readily. Language was a
facile instrument ; metrical expression offered no difficulties ;
and his style, easy and brilliant, is often too diffuse. With
few ideas to express, he prolongs his poems through several
pages ; the thought that the Magdalene is weeping suffices
for thirty-three stanzas, some of the greatest beauty, others
pure bathos. He needed the restraint of Jonson; his most
sustained poems are adaptations (one can hardly call them
translations), such as his Music's Duel, taken from the Latin
of Strada — a most successful attempt to express one art in
terms of another. His Wishes, full of that Platonism that
inspired Spenser,
1 Crashaw, p. 260.
ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" Till that divine
Idea, take a shrine
Of crystal flesh, through which to shine;"
is greatly improved by the excisions made by Palgrave.
It is interesting to observe the effect of Crashaw's writings
on other poets. Milton, his contemporary, did not disdain
to borrow from him ; Pope and Coleridge, the extremes of
opposing schools, acknowledge their indebtedness to him.
Pope sends to his friend, Henry Cromwell, a copy of Crashaw
and states that he has read his poetry several times.^ He
selects as very remarkable lines from Crashaw, balanced
couplets from Music's Duel, almost the only verses that ap-
proach his own style, for the poem is marked by its free
handling of the heroic metre. He was untouched by Cra-
shaw's spirit and merely hfted phrases.^ On the other hand,
Coleridge complains of Crashaw's lack of form and sweetness,
but goes so far as to assert that "where he does combine rich-
ness of thought and diction, nothing can excel." He con-
tinues : "his lines on St. Theresa are the finest These
verses were ever present to my mind whilst writing the
second part of Christ abel; if, indeed, by some subtle process
of the mind, they did not suggest the first thought of the
whole poem."' The influence here asserted is such a subtle
one that without Coleridge's statement, it would not be sus-
pected, yet it must be remembered as no small part of
Crashaw's accomplishment, that he inspired one of the finest
achievements of the romantic school.
It is difficult to assign to Crashaw his position in our lyric
poetry because of his unevenness. When, in his own words,
he is
1 Elwin and Courthope, The Works of Alexander Pope, vol. VI,
London, 1871, pp. 109, 116.
2 For example, "Obedient slumbers that can wake and weep," in
Eloisa to Abelard.
3 J. W. Mackail, Coleridge's Literary Criticism, London, 1908, p. 149.
JACOBEAN AND CAROLINE LYRIC 287
" Dressed in the glorious madness of a Muse
Whose feet can walk the milky way and choose
Her starry crown,"^
he seems more truly inspired than any of his contemporaries,
always excepting Milton. In a degree, Herrick includes
Carew; Herbert and Vaughan stand near each other; the
sons of Ben, the followers of Donne have much in common ;
but Crashaw, a romanticist born out of due time, stands
absolutely alone.
The numerous editions of Herbert's Temple are not the
only proof of its popularity. More important, as an indi-
cation of its effect on the lyric, are the imitations it inspired.
"After him followed divers, Sed non passibus sequis ; they
had more of fashion than force," writes Vaughan of Herbert,^
and we see this imitation, sometimes throughout a whole
book, as in Harvey's Synagogue (1640), at other times in
single poems, as in Meditation or The Mercy Seat in Thomas
Beedome's Poems Divine and Human (1641). The most
important follower of Herbert (he was more than a follower,
for in many respects he surpassed him) was Henry Vaughan
(1621-1695) the Silurist, as he calls himself, from Siluria,
the Roman name for his birthplace, South Wales. After his
student days at Jesus College, Oxford, and at London, he
passed his life in Wales as a country doctor, unknown and
unmentioned by the Restoration writers.
Unlike Herbert, Vaughan published two collections of
secular verse. Poems (1647) and Olor Iscanus (1651). His
love poetry is very tame indeed; his verses to Amoret are
smoothly written but lifeless, and it is amusing to hear
Vaughan, in his religious lyrics, speaking regretfully of his
"Idle Verse."
1 Crashaw, p. 146.
2E. K. Chambers, The Poems of Henry Vaughan, Silurist, Muses'
Library, London, 1896, vol. I, p. 7.
ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" Go, go, quaint follies, sugared sin.
Shadow no more my door;
I will no longer cobwebs spin;
I'm too much on the score.
******
" Blind, desperate fits, that study how
To dress and trim our shame;
That gild rank poison, and allow
Vice in a fairer name;
" The purls of youthful blood and bowls,
Lust in the robes of Love;
The idle talk of feverish souls
Sick with a scarf or glove."^
There is a slight possibility that the last stanza may refer to
Suckling's poetry ; in any case, he would have smiled at the
mild verses written in what Vaughan called his "warmer
days." It is believed that Vaughan fought in the Royal army,
but at heart he is a Puritan ; in The World, the doting lover
is placed with the perjured statesman and the downright
epicure, fools that
'■ prefer dark night
Before true light !"^
As a writer of love lyrics, Vaughan does not deserve remem-
brance.
His genius found adequate expression in his Silex Scintil-
lans (Part I, 1650 ; Part II, 1652). Here are some one hun-
dred and thirty religious lyrics and didactic poems ; fifty of
them show Herbert's influence, at times imitating line for line
a given poem from the Temple, at other times reflecting Her-
bert's spirit, or catching up a phrase here and there. As an
illustration of this, Vaughan's SortrDays imitates two poems
ip. 113.
2 P. 150.
JACOBEAN AND CAROLINE LYRIC
of the Temple which we have cited, Prayer, and Simday; a
glance at a single stanza will show that the decisive event in
Vaughan's poetic development was his receiving a copy of
Herbert's poems. Sundays are
" The pulleys unto headlong man ; Time's bower ;
The narrow way;
Transplanted Paradise ; God's walking hour,
The cool o' th' day !
The creature's jubilee; God's parle with dust;
Heaven here ; man on those hiUs of myrrh and flowers ;
Angels descending; the returns of trust;
A gleam of glory after six days showers !"*
As a rule Vaughan does not improve on Herbert in his poems
deliberately modelled on definite lyrics in the Temple; his
Easter Day lacks the force of Herbert's Dawning; his Pur-
suit the vividness and deep feeling of the Pulley; his Orna-
ment the beauty of expression and the personal touch that
makes Herbert's Quip one of his most notable poems. Her-
bert's enduring effect on Vaughan was gained not by fur-
nishing him definite models for his verse but by stirring his
spiritual emotions, by showing him what feelings the religious
lyric could express. Vaughan differed from Herbert in tem-
perament ; he is equally devout, but more calm, more satisfied
with the world. There is pathos in Vaughan, but not the
pathos of indecision and unrest. Nature too often brought
to Herbert a message of reproach ; the trees bore their fruit
and sheltered the birds in their branches, but his own life
seemed empty. Vaughan found the world beautiful to con-
template; he believed that nature was full of consolation
and hope. Marvell's Garden had no religious significance
for him; to Vaughan the bird driven in his window by the
storm tells of the life of the spirit. He finds a flower fresh
1 P. 114.
290 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
and green beneath the snow; in thoroughly characteristic
Hnes he seeks its message :
" Yet I, whose search loved not to peep and peer
I' th' face of things.
Thought with myself, there might be other springs
Besides this here."
As Tennyson would question the flower in the crannied wall,
so to the plant
" Many a question intricate and rare
Did I there strow;"^
and as he sees the flower sleeping in the cold of winter, he
realizes that the dead rest in peace. It must not be thought
that Vaughan pushes this spiritual interpretation of nature
to excess ; he is not always pointing a moral ; he can view
nature with the eyes of an artist :
" I see a rose
Bud in the bright East, and disclose
The pilgrim sun."^
His poems are fiUed with little descriptive touches that show
a man who lived out of doors, who loved the earth and the
sky. We are struck more frequently by the observation
shown in his verses than by their technique ; he is, for ex-
ample, one of the first English poets to write often of clouds.
Vaughan was more than an observer ; he possessed imagin-
ative insight and if on the whole he does not appear as
thoughtful as Herbert, he often strikes deeper. A good
instance of this are the famous opening Hnes of The World,
in which he pictures eternity as "a great ring of pure and
endless light. All calm as it was bright." Herbert has noth-
1 Pp. 171, 172.
2 P. 33.
JACOBEAN AND CAROLINE LYRIC 291
ing to compare with Vaughan's Retreat, a panegyric on
childhood that is the poetic converse to Browning's Rabbi
Ben Ezra. Former poets had written in praise of beautiful
children ; it was reserved for Vaughan to discern the spiritual
beauty of childhood:
" When on some gilded cloud, or flower,
My gazing soul would dwell an hour.
And in those weaker glories spy
Some shadows of eternity."
It is the age of innocence that he both praises and mourns ;
he would call back that time when he felt
" through all this fleshly dress
Bright shoots of everlastingness."^
Vaughan appears more modern than Herbert, especially in
"They are all gone into the world of hght," one of the most
beautiful of all English elegies. It contains Vaughan's finest
traits ; exquisite are the nature descriptions which the lyric
was soon to lose for over a century :
" It glows and glitters in my cloudy breast.
Like stars upon some gloomy grove.
Or those faint beams in which this hill is dress'd
After the sun's remove."
For a perfect comparison few stanzas can equal:
" He that hath found some fledged bird's nest, may know
At first sight, if the bird be flown;
But what fair well or grove he sings in now.
That is to him unknown."
Except for the metre, it might well be found in In, Memorian.
How utterly removed is such writing from the formal similes
with which the lyric poets of the coming generation con-
ip. 69.
ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
tented themselves. For intense but restrained feeling per-
fectly expressed this poem has rarely been surpassed. What
the Italian sonneteers tried in vain to do in their apostrophes
to death, Vaughan has accomplished in a single quatrain :
" Dear, beautous Death! the jewel of the just.
Shining nowhere, but in the dark;
What mysteries do lie beyond thy dust.
Could men outlook that mark !"^
Vaughan was not always such an artist; many of his poems
are marred by infelicitous passages, but this does not account
for Herbert's greater popularity. The explanation lies in
the fact that the moods of the Temple are nearer everyday
experience than those of Vaughan, who loved "strange
thoughts" that
" transcend our wonted themes
And into glory peep."
We remembered the influence of Crashaw upon Christabel;
we must not forget the closer connection between Vaughan's
Retreat and Wordsworth's Ode on the Intimations of Immor-
tality from Recollections of Early CMldhood. To compare
these two poems differing widely in their genres would be
absurd ; if we must make a choice we would not lose the great
ode, yet in its simpler metre, its quieter manner, its quainter
diction, the Retreat seems nearer to that age of innocence
which both poets celebrate.
Herbert, Crashaw, and Vaughan, though the chief, were
by no means the only writers of religious lyrics in this age
we are considering. William Habington (1605-1654) pub-
lished in 1634 Castara, a collection of secular and religious
verse that went through three editions before the poet's
ip. 182.
JACOBEAN AND CAROLINE LYRIC
death. A country gentleman writing poetry for his amuse-
ment, Habington has little sentiment or imagination in his
love lyrics though he assures us that he "feels a distracted
rage" and that
" All those tortures, poets (by their wine
Made judges) laid on Tantalus, are mine."
His rehgious lyrics show more emotion :
" Place me alone in some frail boat,
'Mid th' horrors of an angry sea.
Where I, while time shall move, may float
Despairing either land or day !
■■ Or under earth my youth confine
To th' night and silence of a cell;
Where scorpions may my limbs entwine.
O God ! so thou forgive me hell."^
This is quite different in its intensity of feeling from To
Cupid, Upon a dimple in Castara's Cheek. Although a Cath-
olic, he has little in common with Crashaw ; Nox Nocti Indi-
cat Scientiam, his best lyric, has in certain of its stanzas a
dignity of thought and expression that approach the vigor
of Dryden.
More famous than Habington, "in wonderful veneration
among the vulgar," was Francis Quarles (1592-1644), "the
sometime darling of our plebeian judgment," as Wood calls
him. He was unfortunately a most energetic writer (his
widow informs us that he began his composing at three in
the morning!) and his verse, plebeian in tone, lacking charm
and distinction, is depressing reading. The lyrical element
in his work is small; he is a didactic writer, yet his strong
1 E. Arber, Castara, in English Reprints, London, 1870, pp. 19, 133.
^H ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
religious feeling finds expression at times in a Gottesminne
that has much of Crashaw's spirit. Gosse notices that some
of these religious lyrics, sHghtly altered, were adapted to
baser uses and published with Rochester's and Dorset's
erotic verse, yet such poems are few in number. He has left
hardly a single lyric that is sustained throughout. A song
against the Puritans in his Shepherd's Oracle, published
posthumously, points to Butler's satire on the Roundheads :
" Know then, my brethren, heaven is clear,
And all the clouds are gone;
The righteous now shall flourish and
Good days are coming on;
■■ Come then, my brethren, and be glad,
And eke rejoice with me:
Lawn sleeves and rochets shall go down.
And, hey ! then up go we."^
but this is neither better nor worse than many anonymous
songs of the war. The fourteenth poem of the Hieroglyphics
shows Quarles at his best. It is an elegy, its long, slow metre
corresponding well with its gloomy thought :
" The day grows old, the low-pitched lamp hath made
Now less than treble shade,"
while in such verses as
" And now the cold autumnal dews are seen
To cobweb every green;
And by the low-shorn rowins doth appear
The fast-declining year,"^
1 A. B. Grosart, Complete Works in Prose and Verse of Francis
Quarles, Edinburgh, 1870, vol. Ill, p. 235.
2 P. 196.
JACOBEAN AND CAROLINE LYRIC 295
we have really effective description of nature. Such occa-
sional passages are all that will save Quarles from total
neglect.
We have reserved for the closing pages of our chapter the
greatest genius of this age, John Milton (1608-1674), and
with him we may mention Sir Henry Wotton (1568-1639).
Among the minor poets of the day, Wotton holds an honor-
able place. Finely educated at Oxford, then for eight years
a student in France, Germany, Spain, and Italy, he became
the most cultured man of his generation and fittingly ended
his career as Provost of Eton. He was an accomplished critic
of painting and architecture and his long residence abroad
as ambassador at Venice gave him ample opportunity to
develop his artistic tastes. His own poetry was dignified and
graceful, but like many critics, he lacked creative force. His
little pastoral, admired by Walton, "As on a bank I sat
reclined," anticipates Milton's L' Allegro; his "How happy is
he bom and taught," has a moral earnestness expressed elo-
quently ; his best lyric, "Ye meaner beauties of the night,"
written for the unhappy Elizabeth of Bohemia, has much of
the polish and of the gallantry of Carew.
Shortly before leaving on his Italian journey, Milton sent
to Wotton a copy of Comus. The letter of thanks which he
received for it must have thrilled him with pride and sent
him on his way with a renewed confidence in his powers.
While Wotton commends the "tragical part" of the masque,
he prefers the lyrical passages ; he is ravished "with a certain
Doric delicacy in your songs and odes, whereunto I must
plainly confess to have seen yet nothing parallel in our lan-
guage : Ipsa mollities." Never was there a juster criticism ;
the lyric note that Milton struck had not been heard.
ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
The first of Milton's lyrical achievements, the Ode on the
Morning of Christ's Nativity, showed this same originality
and revealed, as did Pope's earliest compositions, the essen-
tial marks of the poet's genius. Written when he was twenty-
one, an undergraduate at Cambridge, it is not surprising that
the ode, for all its greatness, is an uneven performance.
That Milton was attracted by the conceits of the day is
shown in several fantastic touches: we could well spare the
penultimate stanza with its description of the sun in bed,
drawing the clouds as curtains and pillowing "his chin upon
an orient wave" ; but whereas the metaphysical poets made
their conceits prominent, in this hymn they are merely mis-
taken touches of ornamentation. Milton writes, then, not in
the style of the day but in his own manner.
We see in the ode that reticence which always marked Mil-
ton's poetic utterances ; even in the most personal sonnets we
feel a certain reserve. He chooses a religious theme and
writes of it obj ectively at the very time when George Herbert
was finding in the religious lyric the most vital medium of
personal expression. We must not push this point too far;
obviously it would have been inartistic for the poet to intrude
himself in such a hymn, but there was legitimate opportunity
for the personal note, if but in a phrase here and there.
Milton eventually turned from the lyric because of the aloof-
ness of his nature ; the reticence he maintains, his suppression
of personal emotion, is fatal to the song impulse. Critics
constantly attribute the veiled personal utterance in Paradise
Lost, Milton's scorn for the sons of Belial, his contempt for
the pomp of court processions and "grooms besmeared with
gold" to his precarious position in Restoration London. As
a matter of fact, Milton would have written with the same
reserve had Cromwell been governing England. In his prose
he tells of himself and his ambitions fearlessly ; in his verse,
excepting a few sonnets, he soars far above the earth.
JACOBEAN AND CAROLINE LYRIC 297
If the lyric does not gain with Milton a fuUer revelation
of personality, it finds in this ode a new music. Though
Milton admired Spenser, he has not sought to reproduce his
lusciousness of phrase; the richness of his melody has dis-
appeared and in its place we find a vigor of phrase and a
haunting music. "Sweet Thames, run softly till I end my
song," is a typical strain of the Prothalamion. "The
trumpet spake not to the armed throng," represents the
movement of Milton's ode. Yet Milton felt the fascination
of strange words and sounds ; we find here that magic use of
unfamiliar names which he employs so often in his epic :
" Peer and Baalim
Forsake their temples dim/'
or
" Nor is Osiris seen
In Memphian grove or green."
That a new master had taken up the lyre is felt at once in
such a superb stanza as
" The lonely momitains o'er,
And the resounding shore,
A voice of weeping heard and loud lament;
From haimted spring, and dale
Edged with poplar pale.
The parting Genius is with sighing sent;
With flower-inwoven tresses torn
The Nymphs in twilight shade of tangled thickets mourn."
These lines are among the imperishable trophies of the Eng-
lish lyric.
The thought of the ode is indicative of the change that
had come over English song. There is little description for
its own sake; where the Elizabethans would have lavished
detail, Milton employs economy of phrase. One stanza suf-
fices for the description of the mother and child :
ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" But see ! the Virgin blest
Hath laid her babe to rest,
Time is our tedious song should here have ending:
Heaven's youngest-teemed star
Hath fixed her polished car.
Her sleeping Lord veith handmaid lamp attending;
And all above the courtly stable
Bright-harnessed angels sit in order serviceable."
Instead of elaborating one or two incidents or describing
clearly defined events, the poet's thoughts wander through
eternity ; he muses on the destruction of the false gods or
on the cessation of the oracles. The range of thought and
imagination in this ode is as remarkable as its music. Here
Milton points to the lyric of the next century. The deepen-
ing of the content of song, the significant work of the poets
of Milton's age, is as extraordinary as the artistic changes
wrought by the Elizabethans.
At Cambridge Milton had practiced what he called the
"Petrarchian stanza." His sonnet to the nightingale, which
stands alone among his English lyrics in its suggestion of
romance, is proof that before he left for the continent, he
had acquired the grace of expression that characterized the
successors of Petrarch. Love plaints, the usual theme of
sonnet collections, he disdained, but he imitated the Italian
use of the sonnet for the expression of friendship and praise.
Always a law unto himself, Milton observes the Italian
rhyme scheme, but not the sharp separation of the octave
and sestet. We have said that Shakespeare's sonnets find
an echo in the sonnets of Keats ; Milton's stand alone. The
sonnets on his blindness have such nobility and dignity of
expression, such restraint in their pathos, that the laments
of our modem romanticists, when compared with them, read
like the complaints of querulous children. The greatest of
all his sonnets, "Avenge, O Lord, thy slaughtered saints," is
the most forceful expression of a burning anger in all our-
JACOBEAN AND CAROLINE LYRIC 299
sonnet literature. That fourteen lines could express so per-
fectly and so adequately such intense feeling is one of the
miracles of verse.
The greatest lyrical achievement of Milton is Lycidas.
Its sole detractor is Dr. Johnson, who objected to the metri-
cal scheme of the poem and above all, to its pastoral setting.
Lycidas, he argued, is not the expression of real but feigned
sorrow, "for passion runs not after remote allusions and
obscure opinions. Where there is leisure for fiction, there
is little grief. "^ Many a modem reader has felt, though to
a lesser degree, the contrast between the clear, outspoken
frankness of our modern elegies and Milton's allegorical
presentation of his sense of loss. The death of King seems
forgotten in Milton's attack on the church or in his search
for the right adjective to picture the primrose or the violet.
It must be remembered that the pastoral had been con-
secrated to complaints and elegies ; so far from being an
artificial means of expression, for a poet versed in the classics
and in Itahan literature, it was the most natural one. Cer-
tainly Milton turned to it instinctively. There can be no
doubt of the sincerity of his grief at the death of his best
friend, Diodati, a man who had stood much nearer to him
than did King. To mourn him, Milton wrote not only a
pastoral, but a Latin pastoral in which occur the same
phrases which Dr. Johnson considered meaningless in
Lycidas — flocks, fields, "copses, flowers, heathen divinities."
In adopting this form, Milton has added to traits common
to all Italian and English pastoral elegies, elements that
seem strangely at variance. No one but the greatest artist
could have made of such material a perfect whole. Here is
Christian and Pagan thought; idyllic description and the
fierce denunciation of the reformer; classic imagery and the
very essence of the shudder and mystery of romance in the
thought of the shipwrecked friend washed far away
lii/« of Milton.
SOO ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" beyond the stormy Hebrides,
Where thou perhaps under the whelming tide
Visit'st the bottom of the monstrous world."
Not only is Lycidas supreme in English pastoral elegy, but
what can surpass it in other literatures?
The music of the poem is as remarkable as its beauty of
expression. Here, as later in Paradise Lost, Milton employs
verse paragraphs, each one different in its movement, yet all
blending perfectly, as the various instruments in an orches-
tra make up one great volume of sound. We marvel not so
much at the rhythm of individual verses, or at the music of
certain phrases, but rather at the harmony of the whole
elegy. Spenser's odes have no such strength of sound;
even the most aspiring passages of his hymns lack the force
of this measured cadence. The Elizabethan lyric is written
for the tabor, the lute, the virginals ; here we listen to the
tones of an organ. The art of the poem is as great as the
inspiration; we are carried on and on by the sweep of the
verse until the elegy reads as though it had been struck off
in the white heat of the poet's emotion, yet Milton's manu-
script shows how patiently he revised word and phrase.
Familiarity with Lycidas but deepens admiration; its music
haunts the ear, its phrases the memory. It is the most truly
inspired lyric that England had yet produced.
If, at the close of this chapter, we attempt to gather up
in a few sentences the chief distinctions between the Eliza-
bethan lyric and Jacobean and Caroline song, we perceive
that the later lyric is less spontaneous in its expression and
that it has less of the hght-hearted attitude towards life.
Men are no longer content to paraphrase Petrarch; they
have begun to peer in the face of things, to analyze their
feelings, to question their thoughts. Technically, the later
lyric shows more reserve. With exuberance of fancy has
gone the freer metrical movement of song; the lyric measures
JACOBEAN AND CAROLINE LYRIC SOI
are more restrained; the art is more evident. The old ideal-
ism is passing away, yet its light has not wholly vanished.
If we miss the Elizabethan spirit, we must remember that in
compensation, song has deepened its message ; it has come
closer to the hearts and minds of men. If there is less bril-
liancy of phrase in the Caroline lyric, there is in the love
poetry a charm and a grace, an unmistakable touch that
lends distinction and that brings us back to these songs
again and again.
CHAPTER SIX
The Lyric feom the Restoeation to the Death of Pope
The Restoration marks a new epoch in the lyric as well as
in the drama. The proof of this statement is to be found in
the neglect which overtook the poets we have just considered.
"Theirs was the giant race before the flood," wrote Dryden,
and the change in taste was indeed a deluge that spared the
dramatic writings of Shakespeare, Jonson, and Fletcher, but
entirely submerged the less pretentious works of their con-
temporaries. Donne, no longer a force, was vaguely remem-
bered as a wit; Herbert, adopted by the church, was read
more as a preacher than as a poet ; the other lyrists — ^Love-
lace, Herrick, Crashaw, we need not name them all — were
quite forgotten:
" But for the wits of either Charles's days.
The mob of gentlemen who wrote with ease;
Sprat, Carew, Sedley, and a hundred more,
(Like twinkling stars the miscellanies o'er)
One simile, that solitary shines
In the dry desert of a thousand lines.
Or lengthened thought that gleams through many a page,
Has sanctified whole poems for an age."^
So wrote Pope three quarters of a century after these writers
flourished. Of the poets who lived previous to the Restora-
tion, he mentions only Carew ; the rather ambiguous "hundred
more" suggests that he did not know even the names of
1 The First Epistle of the Second Book of Horace, 11. 107-114.
THE RESTORATION LYRIC SOS
Carew's contemporaries.^ That he had not studied them is
perfectly evident, for he complains of the absence of brilliant
similes and striking thought in Caroline verse. The average
reader would have even less knowledge of these lyrists, for
Pope was a close student of poetry.
It is customary to explain the difference that exists be-
tween Elizabethan and Jacobean verse on the one hand and
Restoration and Queen Anne verse on the other, by a short
and convenient phrase — ^French influence. Like many other
formulas, it offers no real solution of the question; when we
seek for such borrowings from the French as we found in
Elizabethan poetry, we discover nothing. Pope indeed drew
from Boileau, but the spirit of English verse had been trans-
formed before Pope wrote his satires. Had France pos-
sessed no literature, English poetry would have undergone
precisely the same change we find in it.
The descent from the heights of Elizabethan song to the
plains and even the marshes of the Restoration lyric is such
a deep one that it is natural to look for some compelling
influence from without rather than to the perfectly compre-
hensible desire of a new generation for new themes and a new
style. The English novel swings from romance to realism,
from realism to romance, not because novelists are imitating
Continental writers, but because each generation and even
each decade has its own conception of life which it must
express. The sonnets of Petrarch, Platonism, Ehzabethan
chivalry, were exhausted sources of lyric inspiration; Eng-
land had outgrown or forgotten them and the age desired
to see itself in its writings. Moreover the style of the lyric
was plainly developing towards that of the Restoration and
pseudo-classic schools. Jonson, in his songs, laid the chief
emphasis upon form and finish and the minor writers from
1 Pope had his sneer at Quarles and we have seen that he read
Crashaw carefully. Writing to Cromwell, he describes Crashaw as
though he were unknown.
S04 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
1625 to 1650 show an increasing fondness for the couplet
and a readiness to abandon the older lyric measures. In 1636
appeared Fasciculus Florum or a Nosegay of Flowers, trans-
lated out of the Gardens of several poets and other authors.
It is significant that nearly every one of the eight hundred
and fifty-three selections are taken not from the Italian or
French but from the Latin, and that with but few exceptions,
the couplet is the medium of translation. The substance of
the lyric was changing also. There are songs of Lovelace
and Suckling that would pass undetected in the poems of
Sedley and Rochester, and we find an even clearer prophecy
of the Restoration lyric in the work of Edmund Waller
(1606-1687).
His earliest poem describes the escape of Charles I (then
Prince of Wales) from being swept out to sea.^ Although
the verses were revised before their publication in 1645, they
were written in 1623 when this event occurred. If we examine
the poem carefully we perceive that when Waller was but
seventeen his style was so formed that it shows no real devel-
opment in all his later work; as Dr. Johnson observed, "his
versification was, in his first essay, such as it appears in his
last performance." Though he proved weak and cowardly
in the struggle between the King and Parliament, in his
verse he showed a certain boldness of innovation. He cared
little for his contemporaries ; he told Aubrey that he had
never met Ben Jonson and certainly he shows no marks of
Donne's wit. Turning aside from the literary fashions of
the day, he chose for himself a measured style quite different
from Jonson's well-calculated stanzas. "When he was a
brisk young spark," writes Aubrey, "and first studied
poetry, 'Me thought,' said he, 'I never saw a good copy of
English verses ; they want smoothness ; then I began to
1 G. T. Drury, Poems of Edmund Waller, Muses' Library, London,
1893, p. 1.
THE RESTORATION LYRIC 805
essay.' "^ He revolted, if such a weak nature can be said to
revolt, against all irregularity of style. Taking Fairfax as
his model, he found in the couplets of his translation of Tasso
the desired metre. In this verse form he wrote the greater
part of his poetry, yet he is fond of octosyllabics and chose
for the song in which he really lives — "Go, lovely rose" — an
irregular stanza.
His first poem, then, showed his one good quality — a
smooth style. He did not bring the couplet to perfection.
Dryden gave it energy and strength; Pope, epigramatic
point and brilliancy ; but Waller made it as popular a verse
form as the sonnet had been. So great was his fame that by
his rejection of the lyric measures of the Elizabethans and
by his outspoken preference for definite rules in place of
freedom in verse composition, he fettered the spirit of song.
" Above our neighbors our conceptions are ;
But faultless writing is the effect of care.
Our lines reformed, and not composed in haste,
Polished like marble, would like marble last."^
There is no lyric note in such writing. Patient workman-
ship was to take the place of the poetic impulse ; the lines of
a song were no more to rise and fall with the thought, but
were to be laid carefully one upon another.
Not only did Waller change the music of the lyric ; he
modified its content. In the hands of Marlowe, the couplet
had expressed the very essence of romantic beauty and pas-
sion. Nearer Waller's own day, Browne had used the heroic
measure in his Britannia's Pastorals to describe nature.
Waller rejected all deeper emotions and not content with
"elegance of diction," sought for "propriety of thought."
In his poem on the Earl of Roscommon's translation of
Horace, he gives his literary creed:
1 Introduction, p. LXX.
2 P. 224.
306 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" Horace will our superfluous branches prune.
Give us new rules, and set our harps in tune ;
Direct us how to back the winged horse.
Favour his flight, and moderate his force.
Though poets may of inspiration boast.
Their rage, ill governed, in the clouds is lost."'^
Here we have the critical, self-conscious attitude towards
poetry and it is not surprising that we find few lyrics in an
age that prized correctness above emotion and high imagin-
ation. Waller's diction shows the limiting hand of conven-
tionality. Shakespeare had spoken of the poet's "rage" ;
with Waller this becomes a stereotyped word and even the
bee, flying from flower to flower, "rages." We read of
"nymphs," of "gilded scenes," of sounds that "invade the
ear," and we seem to hear Pope. Waller never forgets him-
self; he is never carried away by a burst of feeling; and his
self-restraint and moderation debase his poetry to weak
society verse.
Waller wrote a number of love lyrics. The name most
closely connected with his is that of Sacharissa, or in plain
English, Dorothy Sidney, eldest daughter of the Earl of
Leicester. Though Waller tells us that her "beam of
beauty" scorches like the raging sun, it did not inspire even
a gentle glow in the poet's verses. The most hasty reader
must notice the absence of romance and feeling in these once
famous lyrics. If, as Gosse assumes, To a Girdle and "Go,
lovely rose," were addressed to Sacharissa, certainly his
"passion" produced his two finest songs, but there is nothing
to support this theory. To use Waller's own phrase, he
"pursued the nymph in vain," and on her marriage wrote
very calmly of his lost mistress. We agree with his earliest
biographer that "he was not of such a complexion as to
become a martyr to his passions."
1 P. 214.
THE RESTORATION LYRIC 307
We have said that in his lyrics he gives us society verse,
but in this genre he can not take a high position. His trifling
has not the charm of Herrick's ; he has not caught the care-
less tone of Suckhng; he lacks Prior's wit. The one admir-
able quality he possessed was a mild eloquence, seen at its
best in his masterpiece.
" Then die ! that she
The common fate of all things rare
May read in thee;
How small a part of time they share
That are so wondrous sweet and fair !"'
Here is no pathos, no deep melancholy, but a charming and
graceful rendering of an old theme. His care and polish are
not too evident and the lyric is free from his formal
similes and his classic deities. Nowhere is he more musical
and in abandoning his poetic theories he has written one of
the loveliest of English songs.
Though Waller's lyrics hardly seem adapted for music,
Henry Lawes composed melodies for them. One of them is
quoted with admiration in Walton's Complete Angler:
" While I listen to thy voice,
Chloris ! I feel my life decay ;
That powerful noise
Calls my flitting soul away.
Oh ! suppress that magic sound,
Which destroys without a wound. "^
Here and there we meet with a fine phrase. Love's Farewell
commences in a deeper tone than usual :
" Treading the path to nobler ends,
A long farewell to love I gave.
Resolved my country, and my friends,
All that remained of me should have.
IP. 138.
2 P. 127.
SOS ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" And this resolve no mortal dame.
None but those eyes could have o'erthrown,
The nymph I dare not, need not name.
So high, so Hke herself alone."
The last line has the true ring, but Waller immediately falls
back on the couplet, introduces a conventional simile begin-
ning
" Thus the tall oak, which now aspires
Above the fear of private fires,"^
and the song is ruined.
If we are astonished at the obscurity that covered Her-
rick's poems, we are more amazed at the fame Waller en-
joyed for nearly a century. His name constantly recurs in
the writings of the Restoration and of the Queen Anne age,
and is invariably mentioned with respect.^ "Spenser's verses
are so numerous, so various, and so harmonious that only
Virgil has surpassed him among the Romans ; and only Mr.
Waller among the English,"' writes Dryden, and the state-
ment shows how completely the fine sense of rhythm and of
melody had been lost. Speaking of rhyme, Dryden informs us
that "the excellence and dignity of it were never fully known
until Mr. Waller taught it ; he first made writing easily an
art."* This praise is constantly repeated by the writers who
succeeded Dryden. "Nor yet shall Waller yield to fame,"
wrote Pope, and without a doubt he was considered the
greatest lyric poet that England had produced. "The
admired Mr. Waller," the "first refiner of our English
tongue," is quite forgotten to-day ; only three or four of
his lyrics are remembered ; and the adulation he received
ip. 93.
2 The flattering eulogy on Waller in the poems of Robert Hill, 1775,
p. 52, shows how persistently the tradition continued.
3 Essay on Satire.
* Dedication to The Rival Ladies.
THE RESTORATION LYRIC S09
merely shows how far the desire to be correct could pervert
the taste.
Another poet, once held in the highest esteem, shares
Waller's fate. Abraham Cowley (1618-1667) seemed
destined for great achievements. His Poetical Blossoms,
published when he was about fifteen, showed something more
than mere precocity. He produced plays when a student at
Westminster school and at Cambridge ; his Mistress, brought
out in 1647, was considered the most important series of love
poems of that period. His Odes, 1656, introduced into Eng-
lish verse the "high Pindaric style" — his chief distinction —
and the wide applause these inflated, rhetorical verses re-
ceived is best shown in Sprat's ode on Cowley, one of the
curiosities of poetic eulogy.
In his earliest poem Cowley writes :
" From too much poetry that shines
With gold in nothing but its lines.
Free, O you powers, my breast."'^
and in aU his work he endeavored to show his wit. In this
respect, as Dr. Johnson pointed out, he is a follower of
Donne, but he lacks absolutely his imagination and emotion.
The Mistress is hard reading; it has little feeling and its
ingenuity of thought is not great enough to hold the flagging
interest.
" But do not touch my heart, and so be gone;
Strike deep thy burning arrows in:
Lukewarmness I account a sin.
As great in love, as in religion."^
lA. R. Waller, Essays and Plays of Abraham Cowley, Cambridge,
1906, p. 49.
2 A. R. Waller, The Poems of Abraham Cowley, Cambridge, 1905,
p. 66.
310 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
he tells us. Judged by this standard, Cowley is the chief of
sinners. One stanza will show this ; its artificiality is unfor-
tunately typical not only of the Mistress but of many a
Restoration lyric:
" I came, I saw, and was undone;
Lightning did through my bones and marrow run;
A pointed pain pierced deep my heart;
A swift, cold trembling seized on every part;
My head turned round, nor could it bear
The poison that was entered there."
The next stanza descends to the formal simile :
" So a destroying angel's breath
Blows in the plague, and with it hasty death."'
Such writing is a mere academic exercise. Many of the
Elizabethan songs have very little feeling, but there is ample
compensation in their charm of metre and grace of diction.
We do not find these saving qualities in Cowley's poems;
rarely he has something of the Elizabethan spirit in such a
passage as :
" Love in her sunny eyes does basking play ;
Love walks the pleasant mazes of her hair;
Love does on both her lips for ever stray;
And sows and reaps a thousand kisses there.
In all her outward parts Love's always seen;
But, oh, he never went within."^
but the rest of the poem falls far below this. He writes on
the subjects that every sonneteer employed — sleep, absence,
parting, beauty unadorned — yet there is not a single sonnet
in all these poems. We hardly recognize the familiar themes,
for, disguised in Cowley's rhetoric, they seem translated into
a new language.
ip. 67.
2 P. 76.
THE RESTORATION LYRIC 311
The Mistress, though admired, did not set the fashion for
the Restoration love lyric; Rochester, Sedley, Dorset, and
their contemporaries preferred a more direct and a less
ingenious manner than Cowley employed. It was his Odes
that introduced a new poetic style. There is a long Hst of
writers, from his day to our own, who have paid homage to
Cowley by their use of his "Pindaric stanzas." When we
consider the veneration in which the classics were held, it is
surprising that no English poet had hitherto adopted
Pindar's method ; Jonson's ode to the memory of Cary and
Morison is his solitary experiment in this genre. A full cen-
tury before Cowley's work appeared, Ronsard had won the
title of "le Pindare fran9ois" by writing a series of odes
imitating the Greek poet's language and thought much more
closely than Cowley ever attempted to do. The Elizabe-
thans, we remember, translated Ronsard's sonnets ; they were
not attracted by his Pindaric flights.
In his prefaces, Cowley has discussed his odes. He tells
us that in two of his versions of Pindar he took, omitted, and
added what he pleased. He aimed to show the reader not
what Pindar said but his manner of speaking ; Pindar's style,
"though it be the noblest and highest kind of writing in
verse," had not yet been introduced into English literature.
He fears these Pindaric odes wiU not be understood even by
readers well versed in poetry because of the sudden and long
digressions and their bold and unusuaLfigures. "The num-
bers are various and irregular, and sometimes seem harsh
and uncouth, if the just measures and cadences be not ob-
served in the pronunciation." The music of these poems lies
wholly at the mercy of the reader.^ So much for his poetic
theory ; his practice is well shown in a single stanza from his
Ode upon Liberty, in which he speaks once more of his Pin-
daric style:
iPp. 156, 11.
S12 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" If Life should a well-ordered poem be,
(In which he only hits the white
Who joins true profit with the best delight)
The more heroic strain let others take.
Mine the Pindaric way I'll make.
The matter shall be grave, the numbers loose and free.
It shall not keep one settled pace of time,
In the same tune it shall not always chime.
Nor shall each day just to his neighbour rhyme.
A thousand liberties it shall dispense,
And yet shall manage all without ofFence."'^
In other words, to write on some abstract theme, using an
irregular verse form, was to catch the very spirit of Pindar.
As a matter of fact, the odes of Pindar have a regular
structure — "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."^
Cowley never perceived this (though Jonson had understood
it) and it was left to Congreve to point out that Cowley
never followed Pindar, even afar off.' To Cowley's imme-
diate contemporaries, his irregularity of metre implied imag-
ination and even sublimity. The poet had only to group
together a certain number of long and short verses and his
thought assumed an unmistakable majesty. If Waller's
couplets on the escape of Prince Charles had been trans-
formed to irregular stanzas and not a syllable of their sub-
stance altered, by some mysterious process the verse would
have been lifted to the realms of the imagination. We under-
stand to-day that no device of metre can atone for a lack
of inspiration. The question is not whether odes are regular
or irregular, but whether there is any life in them. In his
1 Essays and Plays, p. 391.
2 J. Schipper, A History of English Versification, Oxford, 1910, p.
366. Cf. Introductory Essay to B. L. Gildersleeve's Pindar, N. Y., 1885.
3 Discourse on the Pindaric Ode.
THE RESTORATION LYRIC 313
Progress of Poesy, Gray follows exactly the regular struc-
ture of the Greek ode, but it is doubtful whether the reader
perceives this ; what he does notice is the imagination and
the thought. Cowley has cleverness and ingenuity of
thought rather than imagination and a gentle melancholy
rather than deep emotion ; accordingly he was tempera-
mentally unfitted for this most difficult of all lyric types.
At the close of his Ode on the Resurrection it is curious to
hear him beg his Muse to "allay thy vigorous heat," to
" Hold thy Pindarique Pegasus closely in.
Which does to rage begin,"^
for in most of the verses, Pegasus has certainly ambled.
There is something to be said on the other side, for Cowley
possessed one quality — though hardly a lyric one — which
we must not overlook. His best odes have an intellectual
element, a reasoning in verse, which is not without attraction
and which goes far to explain his popularity with his con-
temporaries and why Milton valued him with Spenser and
Shakespeare. To see this we have merely to turn to the
Ode to the Royal Society or to the better Hymn to Light.
Here with a certain felicity of phrase at times approaching
the language of imagination, he traces light from the rose
to the jewel, from the rainbow to the firefly,
" Nor amidst all these triumphs dost thou scorn
The humble glow-worms to adorn.
And with those living spangles gild
(O greatness without pride !) the bushes of the field."^
Cowley is most attractive in his less formal writing. His
Anacreontics are light and graceful and the ode at the close
of his essay on gardens has many charming lines. He will
1 Poems, p. 182.
2 P. 445.
314 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
be remembered chiefly by two elegies, on Richard Crashaw
and on Wilham Hervey, a college friend. In the days of
religious bigotry and persecution he is not afraid to praise
his brother poet, a Cathohc convert. In lines full of that
emotion which the odes lacked, he exalts the purity of his
life and the intensely spiritual quality of his verse. The
poem on Hervey is even better because more personal ; it does
not speak of sorrow, a vague abstraction of the odes, but
describes in an intimate way the poet's deep sense of what he
has lost :
" Ye fields of Cambridge, our dear Cambridge, say,
Have ye not seen us walking every day.''
Was there a tree about which did not know
The love betwixt us two.^
Henceforth, ye gentle trees, for ever fade;
Or your sad branches thicker join.
And into darker shades combine.
Dark as the grave wherein my friend is laid."'^
When we compare such a stanza with Cowley's interesting
and ingenious Ode on Wit, we realize how far astray a false
conception of poetry had led him. The elegy has the vital
spark in it. One touch of deep feeling is worth all the
brilliant strokes of rhetoric ; judged by such a standard these
lines on Hervey are not unworthy to be read with Lycidas
and Thyrsis.
What Cowley failed to do was accomplished by John
Dryden (1631-1700), whose Pindaric odes have both vigor
of thought and dignity of expression. It is significant, how-
ever, that the greatest poet of this age should have written
but three odes worthy of remembrance and but four or five
short lyrics that deserve a place in anthologies. Though a
few good lyrics were composed in this generation, from
Dryden to the lowest poetaster, the writers lacked that gift
ip. 34.
THE RESTORATION LYRIC SIS
of song which even the humblest Elizabethan seemed to pos-
sess as a birthright. In the collected works of the drama-
tists and poets of this period we frequently come across sets
of verses entitled "songs," but almost invariably they are
merely a collection of conventional phrases that rhyme.
On the other hand, much stimulating criticism and satire
of the highest order was written in verse. No one who reads
it will believe that there had been a decline in the intellectual
element of poetry. The wits of the Restoration poets were
keen and alert, but their emotions seem deadened and their
ears had grown dull. In his Threnodia Augiistalis, a Pin-
daric ode on the death of Charles II, Dryden gravely pro-
claims the reign of Charles to be the age of verse. The "gay
harmonious quire" of "ofHcious Muses" attended him,
" And such a plenteous crop they bore.
Of purest and well-winnowed grain.
As Britain never knew before."
We can understand why Dryden flattered the King; it is
difficult to see how he arrived at his opinion of contemporary
poetry. Apart from this spirit of self-satisfaction, there is
another reason why the lyric declined. The social life of
the age forbade fineness of feeling, honest emotion, and ideal-
ism in its songs. In a period in which lampoons and doggerel
satire flourished, the lyric was forgotten. The hterary taste
of the nation had been lowered; the Faerie Qiteene was the
poem of the court of EHzabeth, but the book which Charles II
carried about with him was Hudibras.
Dryden, then, was a man of his age; he generally lacked
in his writings the melodic gift that makes a song, yet his
verse was more musical than that of his contemporaries. In
his Annus Mirabilis, written in the metre of Gray's Elegy,
there are many passages worthy to stand in that most musi-
cal of poems ; in his satires we are often as much impressed
S16 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
by the sonorous ring of his couplets as by the force of their
attack. He was, accordingly, admirably fitted for the Pin-
daric ode as Cowley wrote it.
His two best odes are To the memory of Mrs. Anne KUli-
grew and Alexander's Feast. The latter is the more famous
chiefly because it is the more brilliant but the first ode con-
tains the better poetry and is obviously the more sincere
piece of writing. In Alexander's Feast the workmanship is
too evident ; the effects are too plainly calculated ; and the
poem with its constant antithesis and even epigram — "None
but the brave deserve the fair" — is composed in the wits.
It is not so much dramatic as it is theatrical. In extenuation,
it should be remembered that Dryden wrote this poem for
music and those artificial lines imitating the sounds of various
instruments were designed, in part at least, to give the com-
poser his opportunity. Judged as poetry, such writing is
neither better nor worse than the couplets in Pope's Essay
on Criticism that make the sound an echo to the sense ; it is
in reahty a trick to catch the applause of the groundlings.
Crashaw employs this same device in his Music's Duel, but
his lines are beautiful both in phrasing and in their melody.
The best writing is found in the close of this ode. As Dryden
proceeds, his mind kindles, his style rises, and the well-known
passage,
" At length divine Cecilia came,
Inventress of the vocal frame ;"
has a rhetorical eloquence no other poet of the day could
reach.
The ode on Mrs. KilHgrew is written throughout in a
broader style. It depends for its effect not upon verbal
skill, but upon its imagination and emotional force. We see
this in the opening apostrophe composed in Dryden's highest
manner :
THE RESTORATION LYRIC 317
" Thou youngest virgin-daughter of the skies,
Made in the last promotion of the blest ;
Whose palms, new plucked from Paradise,
In spreading branches more sublimely rise,
Rich with immortal green above the rest:
Whether, adopted to some neighbouring star.
Thou roU'st above us in thy wandering race.
Or in procession fixed and regular.
Moved with the heaven's majestic pace;
Or, called to more superior bliss.
Thou tread'st with Seraphim the vast abyss:"
Such verses lack the sweetness, the rich coloring, the sensuous
appeal of Elizabethan poetry, but there is no fair point of
comparison between such an ode and Spenser's Prothalamion.
If the earlier writing appeals to us more forcibly, it is because
we are trained in the school of Keats and Tennyson rather
than that this ode is a weak production.
We must pass over that deeply felt stanza in which Dryden
laments the degradation of poetry and his own part in it,
and come to the closing lines. They have a solemnity, a
grave cadence which we have not heard before in the lyric :
" When in mid-air the golden trump shall sound.
To raise the nations under ground;
When, in the valley of Jehosaphat,
The j udging God shall close the book of Fate,
And there the last assizes keep
For those who wake and those who sleep."
The Pindaric odes written for a century after Cowley's
death seem innumerable. They were composed on every
conceivable subject from the King's birthday to "The Intol-
erable Heat," but Dryden's odes were never approached. To
read them is to see the highest development of Cowley's genre
until we reach our modern poets.
Dryden followed the Elizabethan custom of introducing
songs freely in his dramas. To one familiar with but his
S18 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
satires and his odes, it is surprising to meet him in his lighter
mood.
" Wherever I am, and whatever I do.
My Phyllis is stiU in my mind;
When angry, I mean not to Phyllis to go.
My feet, of themselves, the way find:
Unknown to myself I am just at her door.
And, when I would rail, I can bring out no more
Than, Phyllis too fair and unkind !"^
He has many experiments in metre, from the too facile :
" How unhappy a lover am I,
While I sigh for my Phyllis in vain;
All my hopes of delight
Are another man's right,
Who is happy, while I am in pain !"^
to the beautifully modulated:
" No, no, poor suffering heart, no change endeavour.
Choose to sustain the smart, rather than leave her;
My ravished eyes behold such charms about her,
I can die with her, but not live without her."'
He never, in his most tripping measures, attains the grace
or the melody of the Elizabethans; he has written songs for
"Aerial Spirits," but there is no magic in them. He is at his
best in a soberly modulated lyric.
" Ah fading joy! how quickly art thou past!
Yet we thy ruin haste.
As if the cares of human life were few.
We seek out new:
And follow fate that does too fast pursue."
1 From the Conquest of Oranada, Part I. See Scott-Saintsbury, John
Dryden'a Works, vol. IV, p. 85.
i Conquest of Oranada, Part II, vol. IV, p. 187.
3 Cleomenes, vol. VIII, p. 292. The Maiden Queen, vol. II, p. 483, has
another good song in this same metre.
THE RESTORATION LYRIC S19
He tries to end this with a bit of pure melody :
" Hark, hark, the waters fall, fall, fall.
And with a murmuring sound.
Dash, dash upon the ground.
To gentle slumber call."^
How far this is from the slumber songs we have read. In
his perversion of the Tempest, Dryden did not shrink from
adding lyrics of his own and among them, this duo between
Ferdinand and Ariel :
" When the winds whistle, and when the streams creep.
Under yon willow-tree fain would I sleep.
Then let me alone.
For 'tis time to be gone.
For 'tis time to be gone."^
Indeed it is.
The dramatic lyrics of Dryden are typical of all that the
Restoration stage has to offer. Sir William Davenant
(1606-1668) inherited something of the CaroUne tradition
yet the lyrics in his masques are devoid of merit. The folio
edition of his works (1673) contains a thousand pages, but
in all this vast extent of verse there is but one good song,
"The lark now leaves his watery nest." The best tragedies
of the period were written by Thomas Otway (1651 .''-1685).
His Venice Preserved does not contain a single lyric and the
only one in The Orphan does not deserve citation. In Alci-
biades there is a song on the theme of Shirley's "The glories
of our blood and state" ; its inferiority measures the unhappy
change that has come over Restoration verse:
" Princes that rule and empires sway.
How transitory is their state !
Sorrows the glories do allay,
And richest crowns have greatest weight."
1 The Indian Emperor, vol. II, p. 380.
2 Vol. Ill, p. 168.
320 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
In the comedies of the day we naturally expect to find
better songs; a search through them yields but little. We
are not surprised that the three or four lyrics in Wycherley's
plays are coarse in tone, unpoetic in diction, and altogether
quite worthless, but it is disconcerting to find no good song
in the dramas of such lively writers as Vanbrugh and Far-
quhar, who merely adapted his "Over the hills and far away,"
in the Recruiting Officer, from a popular song. William
Congreve (1670-1729) has one succession of songs in his
masque. The Judgment of Paris, and in his "opera" Semele,
but they do not deserve a second reading. His only lyric to
gain popularity is in his Way of the World. It begins :
" Love's but the fraility of the mind.
When 'tis not with ambition joined;
A sickly flame, which if not fed, expires;
And feeding, wastes in self-consuming fires."
This is as artificial as Waller's lyrics. It is worthy of notice
that the heroine of this play is introduced repeating a lyric
of Suckling's ; an Elizabethan dramatist would have com-
posed his own song.
In Congreve's Old Bachelor, Araminta asks the music-
master for "the last new song," which he sings to her. One
stanza is enough :
" Thus to a ripe, consenting maid,
Poor, old, repenting Delia said: —
' Would you long preserve your lover ?
Would you still his goddess reign?
Never let him all discover.
Never let him much obtain.' "
Bellamour's opinion of this production — "I don't much
admire the words" — may be taken as a final verdict upon
all these lyrics. Some of the playwrights have good moments
of song, but they are literally moments. Thomas Shadwell
THE RESTORATION LYRIC 321
(1642-1692) introduces many lyrics into his dramas and he
has given to some of the songs in the Royal Shepherdess
a faint touch of Elizabethan grace. More characteristic are
his anapests in Psyche:
" There's none without love ever happy can be.
Without it each brute were as happy as we.
It was from such crude verse that Prior's lightest measures
were developed.^
Sir George Etheredge (1635-1691) showed in his lyrics an
easy style and a lively spirit, as he does in his prose comedies.
His two best songs were not written for his plays. The first
pleases us by its formality, not carried to excess:
" Ye happy swains, whose hearts are free
From love's imperial chain,
Take warning and be taught by me,
T'avoid th' enchanting pain.
Fatal the wolves to trembling flocks.
Fierce winds to blossoms prove.
To careless seamen hidden rocks.
To human quiet love."
The second, entitled Sylvia, must rank with the best of Prior's
verses.
" The nymph that undoes me is fair and unkind.
No less than a wonder by nature designed.
She's the grief of my heart, the joy of my eye,
And the cause of a flame that never can die.
" Her mouth from whence wit still obligingly flows.
Has the beautiful blush and the smell of the rose ;
Love and destiny both attend on her will.
She wounds with a look, with a frown she can kiU."^
1 The Dramatic Works of Thomas Shadwell, 1720, vol. II, p. 46.
2 A. W. Verity, The Works of Sir George Etheredge, London, 1888,
pp. 381, 389.
ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
II
Leaving the dramatists, we come to three well-known
lyrists in Dorset, Sedley, and Rochester. Charles Sackville
(1638-1706), who succeeded to the titles of Lord Buckhurst
and Earl of Dorset, began life as a dissolute courtier and
wit. Pepys, who might be expected to look leniently on
shortcomings of conduct, speaks of him with great dis-
approbation and pictures him, in company with Sedley,
sunk in the most degrading dissipation. Dorset outgrew
this life and in later years became known as a kindly and
generous patron of poets, among whom were Dryden, Butler,
and Prior. They did not neglect to sing his praises and
he died in the odor of poetic sanctity.
He has left but little verse — a few pages will contain it
all — for like his feUows, he had little inspiration. To realize
fully the variety and wealth of the Elizabethan lyric, we
must contrast that age of music with this untuneful period,
when a dozen stanzas would gain a reputation. Dorset
gained his by a single lyric. He is fond of the anapestic
measure, a metre which is as characteristic of this time as
is the sonnet of Elizabethan days or the couplet of the
Queen Anne period. In all his work there is an easy, good-
natured tone:
" Ah ! Chloris, 'tis time to disarm your bright eyes.
And lay by those terrible glances;
We live in an age that's more civil and wise,
Than to follow the rules of romances."
He sings of no hard-hearted beauty, but of Bess, "with her
skin white as milk, and her hair black as coal" :
" But now she adorns both the boxes and pit.
And the proudest town gallants are forced to submit;
All hearts fall a-leaping wherever she comes.
And beat day and night, like my Lord Craven's drums. "^
1 Chalmers' English Poets, vol. "VIII, London, 1810, pp. 344, 345.
THE RESTORATION LYRIC
If his best song was not composed, as the tradition runs,
on the eve of an engagement with the Dutch fleet, it never-
theless shows what is the most admirable trait in these later
Cavaliers — a fearlessness in the presence of danger — and in
its reckless tone we feel that contempt of death which the
former generation would have expressed in a nobler manner.
If To Lucasta contains the essence of the Cavalier spirit,
Dorset's "To all you ladies now on land" is to an equal degree
typical of the Restoration lyric. The English sailors think
not of the Dutch but of the court beauties :
" To pass our tedious hours away.
We throw a merry main ;
Or else at serious ombre play;
But, why should we in vain
Each other's ruin thus pursue?
We were undone when we left you —
With a fa, la, la, la, la.
" But now our fears tempestuous grow,
And cast our hopes away;
Whilst you, regardless of our woe,
Sit careless at a play:
Perhaps, permit some happier man
To kiss your hand, or flirt your fan.
With a fa, la, la, la, la."^
Truly a lively hymn before action. Throughout the eleven
stanzas (this is Dorset's longest composition) the gaiety
never flags.
Sir Charles Sedley (1639-1701) is a better song writer
than Dorset. His touch is always graceful and light; his
metres are invariably the most simple ones:
" Phlllis, men say that all my vows
Are to thy fortune paid:
Alas ! my heart he little knows
Who thinks my love a trade.
1 P. 343.
S21^ ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" Were I of all these woods the lord,
One berry from thy hand
More real pleasure would afford,
Than all my large command.
" My humble love has learned to live
On what the nicest maid.
Without a conscious blush, may give
Beneath the myrtle-shade."^
Could the thought be more naturally expressed.'' We find
gallantry, not love in these songs, and if the sonneteers
repeated stock themes, these writers have even less to tell
us. In the song from The Mulberry Garden, "Ah Chloris !
that I now could sit, As unconcerned," he anticipates but in
no sense approaches Prior's To a child of quality. Occa-
sionally he introduces an epigrammatic turn to his verse :
" 'Tis cruel to prolong a pain.
And to defer a joy,
Believe me, gentle Celemene,
Offends the winged boy."^
but he relies chiefly on the ease of his style.
Two other songs of Sedley deserve notice: "Phillis is my
only joy," and To Celia. The latter is not only his little
masterpiece, it is one of the best songs of the century, written
with a feeling and in a style that could not be improved.
" Not, Celia, that I juster am.
Or better than the rest.
For I would change each hour like them,
Were not my heart at rest.
1 The Works of the Honourable Sir Charles Sedley, London, 1778,
vol. I, p. 101.
2 P. 65.
THE RESTORATION LYRIC 3£S
" But I am tied to very thee,
By every thought I have;
Thy face I only care to see.
Thy heart I only crave.
" All that in woman is adored
In thy dear self, I find;
For the whole sex can but afford
The handsome and the kind.
" Why then should I seek further store.
And still make love anew.''
When change itself can give no more,
'Tis easy to be true."'^
John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester (1647-1680), was the
most gifted lyrist of the Restoration. His life began bril-
liantly and ended tragically. He fell a victim to the vices
of the court set, yet his nature was essentially finer than that
of a Dorset or a Sedley. Bishop Burnet's well-known account
of Rochester's last days reveals a man gentle and generous,
worthy of a better age.
There is no authoritative edition of Rochester's writings.
The scandals of his life prompted unscrupulous publishers
to issue, after his death, several editions of his works. They
contained many poems for which without a doubt he was not
responsible. The contents of these volumes are never alike ;
his best lyrics appear or are excluded at haphazard, and
even when an attempt is made to include his finest verses,
there are serious omissions. "Why dost thou shade thy
lovely face," is a notable bit of writing; it is one of the few
Restoration songs that depict deep emotion, yet it does not
appear in Dr. Johnson's English Poets} Careless of fame,
Rochester never collected his poetry and undoubtedly much
of his work has vanished.
iP. 56.
2 Works of the Earls of Rochester, Roscommon, Dorset, etc., 1721,
vol. I, p. 95.
ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
He was known as a wit — his epigram on "the King, whose
word no man reUes on," justifies his title — and he wrote
more satires than lyrics. He admired Cowley and in his
Ode to Nothing, imitates his turn of thought; he sensibly
avoided, however, the Pindaric style and preferred the man-
ner of Dorset andSedley. He is a better lyrist than either,
for he has their ease and yet a more sincere feeling. His
metres are more varied. He turns from the famihar anapests,
" To this moment a rebel, I throw down my arms.
Great Love, at first sight of Olinda's bright charms;"
to
" All my past life is mine no more,
The flying hours are gone:
Like transitory dreams given o'er.
Whose images are kept in store
By memory alone."
or to the more familiar
" My dear mistress has a heart
Soft as those kind looks she gave me.
When, with Love's resistless art
And her eyes, she did enslave me."'^
The Restoration lyrists are not sharply individualized. It
is never a difficult matter to distinguish the sonnets of Sidney
from those of Drayton, but the songs of this age are all very
much alike. Rochester stands apart from the rest ; he writes
with more sincerity and in a higher manner. No one of his
contemporaries struck the note he reached in his "Absent
from thee I languish still" :
1 Chalmers' Poets, vol. VIII, pp. 240, 342.
THE RESTORATION LYRIC S27
" When, wearied with a world of woe,
To thy safe bosom I retire.
Where love, and peace, and truth, does flow:
May I contented there expire !
" Lest, once more wandering from that heaven,
I fall on some base heart unblest;
Faithless to thee, false, unforgiven.
And lose my everlasting rest."^
Ill
Before coming to the song books of the Restoration, we
must at least mention some of the minor writers. Charles
Cotton (1630-1687), the friend of Walton, offers us a num-
ber of songs, sonnets, and Pindaric odes in his Poems on
Several Occasions (1689), and though he is interesting when
he writes on country life and especially on fishing, his best
lyrics are only passable. Philip Ayres (1638-1712) deserves
more consideration that he has received because he is a belated
Elizabethan, the last of the Petrarchists. His Lyric Poems
made in Imitation of the Italians (1687) is a collection of
translations from Petrarch, Guarini, Tassoni, and from
Spanish writers as well. Curiously enough, he states that
he can find in French poetry nothing worthy of imitation.
In his sonnets he has not caught the sweetness of the EHza-
bethans ; his style is Caroline, as in his song To the Winds.
His best sonnet. On a Fair Beggar, is probably a translation,
yet it deserves a place in aU anthologies. It is surprisingly
modern in the sympathetic description of the girl, "Barefoot
and ragged, with neglected hair."^
Thomas Flatman (1637-1688) is a more important be-
cause a more original writer. In some introductory verses
ip. 240.
2G. Saintsbury, Minor Poets of The Caroline Period, Oxford, 1906,
vol. II, pp. 393, 379.
ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
to Flatman's Poems and Songs (1674), Cotton calmly in-
forms us that Pindar's touch never yielded such harmony as
the odes in this book attain, but they are more notable for
their thought than for their style. The poems show force
and imagination, for he writes
" Verse that emancipates the mind,
Verse that unbends the soul."
He dwells on death with a morbid insistence. His "Mourn-
ful Song," as a contemporary anthology calls it, beginning
"0 that sad day," is his most typical lyric, resembling some-
what both in its movement and in its realism, the Odes of
Coventry Patmore. Two of his songs, hymns for morning
and evening, are quaintly but musically written, and deserve
to be rescued from oblivion.'^
Thomas Traherne (1636 .''-1674) did not send his poems
to the press ; they were discovered and first published in 1903
by Bertram Dobell. They are religious lyrics ; at their best,
they are worthy to be ranked with Herbert's and Vaughan's,
for their thought is striking, their emotion sincere, their
idealism moving in its simplicity. Traherne resembles
Vaughan not in his technique but in his love of the innocence
and glory of childhood. "How like an angel came I down!"
is his cry. The world was but another heaven :
" The skies in their magnificence,
The lively, lovely air.
Oh how divine, how soft, how sweet, how fair !
The stars did entertain my sense.
And all the works of God, so bright and pure,
So rich and great did seem.
As if they ever must endure
In my esteem.
1 Poems and Songs, 4th ed., 1686, pp. 57, 58. Rochester sneers at Flat-
man in his Satire X.
THE RESTORATION LYRIC 329
" The streets were paved with golden stones,
The boys and girls were mine.
Oh how did all their lovely faces shine !
The sons of men were holy ones.
In joy and beauty they appeared to me,
And every thing which here I found,
While like an angel I did see.
Adorned the ground."^
We can not dismiss the minor poets without mentioning
the renowned "Matchless Orinda," Katharine Philips (1631-
1664)). Praised by Cowley and Dryden, she is far from
being the "English Sappho" ; she did not possess the lyrical
temperament, and her work lies outside our province though
she composed a few songs. Her favorite metre was the
couplet, but at times, as Professor Saintsbury has pointed
out, she catches the cadences of Donne and Jonson :
" I did not live until this time
Crown'd my felicity.
When I could say without a crime,
I am not thine, but thee.
" Then let our flames still light and shine.
And no false fear control.
As innocent as our design.
Immortal as our soul."^
IV
We have not as yet considered the song books of the Res-
toration, though many of the lyrics we have quoted found
1 Bertram Dobell, The Poetical Works of Thomas Traherne, London,
1903, p. 4.
2 Saintsbury, op. cit., vol. I, p. 537.
330 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
a place in them. Readers of Pepys' diary will remember the
great delight he took in the songs of the day; his frequent
references to them remind us that the Elizabethan composers
were succeeded by men of no mean ability. Lawes and Pur-
cell were names to be honored in any generation, and a glance
at the list of song books published by John Playford and
his son is enough to confute the oft-repeated fallacy that the
Puritan revolution destroyed the popular lyric. In 1653
John Playford published Select Musical Ayres and Dia-
logues in three boohs. Turning over its pages we find such
lyric triumphs as Herrick's "Bid me to live," and "Gather
ye rosebuds" ; Suckhng's "I prithee send me back my heart" ;
and Shakespeare's "Take, O take those lips away." This
same year Henry Lawes brought out his Ayres and Dia-
logues, containing poems by Lovelace, Herrick, Waller, and
Carew. The Restoration composers had no such poetry to
inspire them. They were forced to write new settings for
old songs, to use the few lyrics of Sedley and Rochester, or
as more frequently happened, to fall back on utterly trivial
words. There is still some gleaning to be done in these song
books, but the amount of gold in them is small when com-
pared with the dross.
Le Prince d' Amour, or the Prince of Love. With a collec-
tion of Several Ingenious Poems and Songs by the Wits of
the Age (1660), contains nearly a hundred pages of songs.
If we disregard the work of the older writers, such as Raleigh
and Wotton, there are not six lyrics we would read a second
time. The following year appeared An Antidote against
Melancholy: made up in Pills. Compounded of Witty Bal-
lads, Jovial Songs, and Merry Catches, a collection that con-
tains among other interesting pieces a Ballad called the
Green-Gown. The tone of the song is somewhat free ; we
quote but the first and last stanzas. They show a splendid
sense of rhythm and are written in a metre hitherto unknown :.
THE RESTORATION LYRIC SSI
" Pan leave piping, the Gods have done feasting,
There's never a Goddess a hunting to-day.
Mortals marvel at Coridon's jesting.
That gives them assurance to entertain May.
The lads and the lasses, with scarves on their faces,
So lively as passes trip over the downs, (pusses?)
Much mirth, and sport they make, running at Barley-break,
Lord ! what haste they make for a green gown.
" Bright Apollo was all the time peeping.
To see if his Daphne had been in the throng.
But missing her, hastily downwards was creeping.
For Thetis imagined he tarried too long.
Then all the troop mourned, and homeward returned.
For Cinthia scorned to smile or to frown.
Thus did they gather may all the long Summer day,
And at night went away with a green gown."^
This is quite the gem of the book ; few songs of this century
are more effective in their use of rhyme. The larger col-
lection of songs that appeared this same year, Merry Drol-
lery or a Collection of Jovial Poems, Merry Songs, Witty
Drolleries, Intermixed with Pleasant Catches, Parts I and 11^
has nothing to equal this. As illustrating the manner and
morals of the time, it is important. It contains some telling
satire on the Puritans, even those of New England, but its
songs are of slight value.
The numerous books of drolleries, such as the Windsor,
the Epsom,, the Norfolk Drolleries, may be said to culminate
in Westminster Drolleries, published in two parts in 1671
and 1672.^ The tone of the whole collection is struck by the
IP. 20. This ballad may be found in the appendix to J. W. Ebs-
worth's reprint of W eatminster Drolleries. D'Urfey included it in his
Pills to Purge Melancholy.
2 Reprinted by J. W. Ebsworth, Boston, England, 1875.
3 Reprinted by Ebsworth, 1875.
SS2 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
opening song, ascribed to Charles II :
" I pass all my hours in a shady old grove,
And I live not a day that I see not my love:
I survey every walk now my Phillis is gone.
And sigh when I think we were there all alone.
O then, 'tis O then, I think there's no such Hell,
Like loving, like loving too well."^
The diiference between the spirit of the Restoration and the
spirit of the age of the Puritan revolution may be easily
measured by comparing this gay trifle with the rugged lines
written by the Royal Martyr when a prisoner at Carisbroke
castle. In all these books there is little art ; at the best the
metres please by their sprightly, tripping pace. We must
never look for thought or emotion in songs whose value con-
sists in a lively lilt, indeed some of the best writing is found
in burlesques, such as The Hunting of the Gods, whose meas-
ure recalls Father Front's stanzas :
" Songs of shepherds, and rustical roundelays.
Formed of fancies, and whistled on reeds ;
Sung to solace young nymphs upon holidays.
Are too unworthy for wonderful deeds.
Phooebus ingenious.
Or winged Cylenius
His lofty genius
May seem to declare.
In verse better coined.
And voice more refined.
How states devined
Once hunted the hare."^
It is hardly necessary to go over the whole list of song books,
for our selections show them at their best. In New Court
Songs and Poems by R. V. Gent, there is one lyric, entitled
1 Vol. I, p. 11.
2 Vol. II, p. 64.
THE RESTORATION LYRIC SSS
Snow, worthy of notice. It is a strikingly modern poem in
the metre of Gray's Elegy:
" See how the feathered blossoms through the air,
Traverse a thousand various paths, to find
On the impurer earth a place that's fair,
Courting the conduct of each faithless wind !"^
but we have outgrown these songs on constancy and uncon-
stancy, all written on the same model, smooth and graceful
yet without a single bold idea or splendid phrase. The
lighter the thought, the better the lyric is the rule for these
books. There is no personality behind these poems ; they
are written around a few conventional bouts rimes — flames,
darts, woes, hearts ; traitor, change, vows, range — it is
generally unnecessary to read more than the end rhymes.
In the preface to Methmks the Poor Town has been troubled
too long, or A Collection of all the New Songs that are gen-
erally Sung, either at the Court or Theatre (1673), the
compiler has a significant statement. "What I design is to
bring that ridiculous way of printing songs out of fashion;
for if a song is good, why should it be printed; if it be, in
being so it is doubly spoiled [by changes and misprints] and
even the name of being in print, makes it become ridiculous
to that degree that you will hardly hear a printed song but
in an Ale-house." This criticism is aimed at the songs pub-
lished in single sheets ; many of them were the worst doggerel,
but reading this very collection makes us hope that the good
songs were not printed, and that the age had something
better. Even such important books as Playford's Theatre
of Music or a Choice collection of the newest and best songs
swng at the Court and Public theatres. Books I-IV (1685-
1687), and his Banquet of Music (1688) have little that is
new to ofi^er us.
iSee G. Ellis, Specimens of the Early English Poets, 4th ed., London,
1811, vol. Ill, p. 403.
ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
These song collections culminated in the writings of
Thomas D'Urfey (1653-1723). Of French descent, possess-
ing much of the Gallic temperament, his success was in
large measure a purely personal one, for he was not only a
poet and composer, but he sang his compositions with great
effect. He tells us that he had sung "before their Majesties
King Charles the Second, King James, King William,
Queen Mary, Queen Anne, and Prince George" — he had a
repertoire that suited all tastes ! — and that he never went
off "without happy and commendable approbation." He
prided himself that he could compose appropriate melodies
for any verses, no matter how difficult the metre, and that
he had set to music many old songs whose rhythm would
have puzzled the most skillful musician. "I must presume
to say, scarce any other man could have performed the like,
my double genius for poetry and music giving me still that
ability which others might perhaps want."' It is said that
he wrote one of his own songs in a most irregular metre to
annoy Purcell, who was to furnish the music for it.^
As a poet, D'Urfey has two styles — he either cultivates
the high Pindaric mood and loves a proudly swelling phrase,
or, more frequently, writes a gay love song or a drinking
catch in the most familiar tone, often far too familiar. His
patriotic songs belong to his most formal attempts at verse
making; Charles or George is invoked as "Great Caesar,"
while the Muse, always in evidence, does her best to appear
majestic :
" As far as the glittering God of day
Extends his radiant light,
Old Britain her glory will display,
In every action bright."^
1 See the dedication to D'Urfey's Wit and Mirth, or Pills to Purge
Melancholy, 1719-30.
2 "One long Whitsun holiday," vol. I, p. 39.
3 Vol. I, p. 327.
THE RESTORATION LYRIC
His lighter mood is hi3 best one. The first two volumes of
the 1719 edition of his Pills to Purge Melancholy contain
his own poems ; but few ot them have lived, yet his " 'Twas
within a furlong of Edinboroi'ofh town," greatly revised, is
one of the most popular of Scottish songs, and he has given
several hints to Burns.^ Doubtless he would have agreed
with Moore's wish that his songs should never be read but
always sung, and as we turn the pages of his book we realize
that most of its attraction has gone forever. Despite his
obvious faults, D'Urfey must have been an interesting per-
son ; Addison, the moralist, goes out of his way to speak a
good word for him. His song book can never be reprinted ;
his poems rarely appear in anthologies, and he is hardly
more than a name to readers of English verse. We take
leave of him with one of his freshest lyrics :
" Bright was the morning, cool was the air,
Serene was all the sky;
When on the waves I left my dear.
The center of my joy:
Heaven and nature smihng were,
And nothing sad but I.
" Each rosy field did odours spread,
All fragrant was the shore ;
Each river God rose from his bed.
And sighed and owned her power:
Curling their waves they decked their heads,
As proud of what they bore."^
This is not an inspired production, yet it comes from some-
thing more than a "Jockey Muse," to quote Prior's con-
temptuous reference to D'Urfey.
iVol. I, p. 283.
2 Vol. I, p. 261.
ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
With this writer, we have come to the days of Queen Anne.
Never was there a time in E^iigland when letters were more
highly honored and yet tLis very period is one of the most
barren epochs in the ijistory of the lyric. It is doubtful
whether another age can show such a galaxy of writers in-
capable of composing the song that "from the soul speaks
instant to the soul." A pessimist would have declared that
as the Elizabethan verse drama had passed away, so the
lyric was fated to disappear, for the songs of this genera-
tion bear much the same relation to the lyrics of Campion
and Shakespeare that Addison's Cato does to Hamlet or
Othello.
The greatest personality between Milton and Byron is
Jonathan Swift (1667-1745). He is the bloodhound of our
literature, delighting to track down offending humanity ;
life offers no illusions to him and the manifest beauty in the
world is hidden from his eyes. We can not expect lyrics from
such a nature ; the three volumes of his poems contain chiefly
political and social satires. He wrote a few poor songs and
early in his career tried the Pindaric ode. He showed to
Dryden the one he had composed on the Athenian Society,
and was told, "Cousin Swift, you will never be a poet," a frank
criticism which he could not forgive. According to Dr.
Johnson, this rebuff was the cause of the satirical passages
Swift aimed at Dryden.
From Richard Steele (1672-1729) we expect better
things. He had traits of character that his more famous
contemporaries did not possess ; his nature was impulsive
and generous, sentimental and romantic, and the emotions
that swayed him were far removed from the sceva indignatio
of the satirists. He was the one writer of his time who
idealized woman : his letters to his wife have many a line
that might well be the text of a love lyric, and he should
THE RESTORATION LYRIC SS7
have composed songs, neither profound nor finely wrought,
but graceful and appealing. The few he has left are with-
out importance.
Joseph Addison (1672-1719) started his literary career
and gained his reputation as a poet. His Letter from Italy
and the fortune-bringing Campaign have taken their place
in that all-embracing collection of poems that are mentioned
with respect but never read. These two productions, of
course, are not lyrical, but his Song for St. Cecelia's Day
and his opera Rosamund come within our field. The first
is a typical and hence a mediocre Pindaric ode ; the opera
is such a work as a precocious schoolboy might write, and
it would be unjust to his memory to quote its songs. As yet
Addison had not expressed in verse his strongest feelings,
but towards the close of the Spectator series, among the
Saturday numbers in which religious topics were often dis-
cussed, he published five hymns .^ These are among the most
personal, the most emotional of lyrics. With Pope and
Swift, Addison was a satirist, but unlike them, he was a
kindly one. He had been brought up in a Deanery and was
destined for the church; of all the Queen Anne wits, he was
best adapted to continue the traditions of the religious lyric.
These hymns, unconventional and free from Pindaric
strokes, are the sincere and fervent expression of a pure
nature deeply moved; they show a strength of feeling
absent from his earher poems and a finer and simpler style.
He had read to good advantage the old ballads and it may
not be fanciful to detect in these lyrics something of their
influence — ^not in "The spacious firmament on high," which
has many touches of Queen Anne diction — ^but in the simpler
measures of "When all thy mercies" or "How are thy ser-
vants blessed." How modern seem those stanzas which tell
of his escape while travelling in Italy :
1 Spectators, Nos. 441, 453, 465, 489, 513.
ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" In foreign realms, and lands remote,
Supported by thy care.
Through burning climes I passed unhurt,
And breathed in tainted air.
" For though in dreadful whirls we hung.
High on the broken wave,
I knew thou wert not slow to hear.
Nor impotent to save.
" The storm was laid, the wind retired
Obedient to thy will;
The sea that roared at thy command.
At thy command was still."'
It is little wonder that Robert Burns, reading these verses
when a boy, recognized their emotional force and saw a new
world in poetry. For more hymns such as these we would
have spared willingly many Spectator papers.
There is the greatest possible contrast between the hymns
of Addison and the light verse of Matthew Prior (1664-
1721). Employed in his uncle's wine house, he attracted
the favorable attention of the Earl of Dorset by turning
into English verse an ode of Horace, and it was fitting that
this slight incident decided the career of one whose poetry
was so Horatian in tone. Dorset sent the lad to West-
minster school, whence he proceeded to Cambridge. Shortly-
after leaving the university he was appointed secretary to
the English ambassador at The Hague; he was ambassador
at Paris when Queen Anne died, and on the accession of
George I was confined in the Tower for nearly two years.
He was charged with treason, but his guilt consisted in being
a prominent Tory. On his release he published his poems
and gained a small fortune with which he bought a country
estate, Down-Hall. He lived to enjoy it but a few months.
There are not many poets whose appeal is so instant as
1 No. 489.
THE RESTORATION LYRIC
Prior's, for he had the rare art of putting himself at once
in the most friendly relations with the reader. He has
drawn his own portrait in two poems, The Secretary and
For my own Monument, and they are not formal engrav-
ings of the courtier in his periwig, but of the wit in his
dressing gown. His disposition is summed up in two verses :
" In public employments industrious and grave.
And alone with his friends. Lord, how merry was he !"'
and as the reader is his friend, he finds him lively, witty, and
charmingly humorous. Affecting in his lyrics a light-
hearted tone, disdaining deep considerations on humanity
at large, he is nevertheless a shrewd observer with a well-
defined philosophy of life. He agreed essentially with Swift
that happiness was the state of being perpetually deceived,
yet he accepted this view of the world quite calmly, for he
had nothing of Swift's bitterness of spirit. If, as Gay
wrote, "life is a jest and all things show it," Prior, as a
humorist, was prepared to enjoy it:
" If we see right, we see our woes:
Then what avails it to have eyes ?
From ignorance our comfort flows:
The only wretched are the wise."^
Accept Fate, be not over-curious, enjoy the passing moment,
is his rule of life. There is no mystery or romance in such
a nature ; but at times we tire of
" those merry blades
That frisk it under Pindus' shades.
In noble songs, and lofty odes.
They tread on stars, and talk with gods."'
1 A. R. Waller, Prior, Dialogues of the Dead and other works in prose
and verse, Cambridge, 1907, p. 130.
2 A. R. Waller, Prior, Poems on Several Occasions, Cambridge, 1905,
p. 22.
3 P. 135.
S40 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
From the over-seriousness of modern writing, it is a relief
to turn to Prior.
As a lyric poet, he too essayed the Pindaric ode. We
wonder by what process of reasoning a man of his wit could
persuade himself that these odes had even dignity, to say
nothing of sublimity. He parodied most effectively Boileau's
Ode sur la Prise de Namur, but many of his own stanzas
could have been ridiculed with equal justice. Henry and
Emma, his grandiloquent version of The Nutbrown Maid,
seems a mere burlesque on that lyrical debat. To read it is
to perceive how thoroughly the Pindaric odes had perverted
the taste of the day and how difficult was the task to restore
to the lyric its old simplicity, to replace the empty phrases
of false art by the language of emotion. Austin Dobson
performed one of the truest services ever rendered a poet
when, in his admirable Selections from Prior, he separated
the gold from the dross.
Prior's finest lyrics are not in the series of twenty-four
songs set by various composers ; they are the verses he made
for his own pleasure as he considered the comedy of love.
Women for him were but an agreeable diversion ; he watched
them as one regards with interest an amusing child, and in
his most delightful lines he assumes towards them the tone
of an over-indulgent parent:
" Dear Chloej how blubbered is that pretty face!
Thy cheek all on fire, and thy hair all uncurled:
Prithee quit this caprice; and (as old Falstafi" says)
Let us e'en talk a little like folks of this world.
" What I speak, my fair Chloe, and what I write, shows
The difference there is between nature and art:
I court others in verse; but I love thee in prose:
And they have my whimsies ; but thou hast my heart."^
IP. 77.
THE RESTORATION LYRIC S^
But for Stella, Swift would have despised all womankind,
and the scornful frankness of his letter to a young lady on
the eve of her marriage is simply astounding. Not even
lago surpassed Pope in his brutal phrase, "For every woman
is at heart a rake." If Prior is free from this attitude of
mind, he is equally far removed from the beauty worship of
the Elizabethans, for he is ever delighted to observe the
inconsistencies of woman.
" Be to her virtues very kind,
Be to her faults a little blind/'
is his motto. Though if, as we stated, he regarded woman as
essentially a child, he admired childhood and has left us two
of the most tender and beautiful poems to children to be
found in the whole range of English verse, A Letter to the
Honourable Lady Margaret Harley and To a Child of
Quality, which almost deserves Swinburne's rhapsodical
praise.' Could anything be more gracious than the whimsi-
cal, affectionate tone of the courtier of forty as he writes
to the five-year-old beauty?
" For while she makes her silk-worms beds,
With all the tender things I swear.
Whilst all the house my passion reads.
In papers round her baby's hair.
" She may receive and own my flame.
For tho' the strictest prudes should know it,
She'll pass for a most virtuous dame.
And I for an unhappy poet.
" Then too alas ! when she shall tear
The lines some younger rival sends,
She'll give me leave to write I fear.
And we shall still continue friends.
'^Dialogues, etc., pp. 131, 85.
Sl^% ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" For as our different ages move,
'Tis so ordained, would fate but mend it,
That I shall be past making love
When she begins to comprehend it."
Prior's style has the clarity and ease which we associate
with the best writers of France. Gay tried to write fables
in the manner of La Fontaine and failed; Prior would have
succeeded completely. The Restoration poets could assume
the familiar tone, but in defiance of the injunction of Polo-
nius, they were both familiar and by all means vulgar. They
would have ruined Prior's A Lover's Anger with its delight-
ful beginning :
" As Chloe came into the room t'other day,
I peevish began: 'Where so long could you stay?
In your lifetime you never regarded your hour;
You promised at two ; and (pray look. Child) 'tis four.' "
or that gay ballad of Down-Hall, in which the lively tone,
through all its forty-three stanzas, never flags. Dobson
observes that it was a "favorite with vocalists."
In his own field, few poets can surpass Prior. His humor
does not depend upon surprise and consequently we never
tire of it. Cowper paid him the flattery of evident imitation
and Thackeray, himself a master of this lighter style, places
these lyrics "amongst the easiest, the richest, the most charm-
ingly humorous of English lyrical poems. "^
John Gay (1685-1732), the chief song writer of this age,
off^ers but little material for discussion. He belonged to the
set of Tory wits and writers who enjoyed his society but had
little respect for him. "In wit, a man, simplicity, a child,"
wrote Pope in his epitaph on Gay, and he was indeed a child
and very much of a spoiled one. He constantly complained
of his ill success at court ; there is a querulous note in his
^English Hwmourists of the Eighteenth Century; Prior, Oay and
Pope.
THE RESTORATION LYRIC S43
■writings; and Pope in his Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot speaks
bitterly of Gay's neglected merit. As a matter of fact he
was not fitted for any high position ; he had nothing of
Prior's ability ; and he was only too content to live on the
bounty of others. The fortune he gained by the Beggar's
Opera he threw away in the South Sea bubble and became
largely dependent upon the hospitality of his friends.
The lyrical element in his writings is a small one. His
best known poems, the Fables, contain but one conventional
song ; his Shepherd's Week has merely a burlesque of a lover's
plaint. His finest song, Sweet William's Farewell to Black-
eyed Susan, a graceful piece of writing, was not composed for
one of his plays. It is as artificial as the song of the shep-
herdesses in Elizabethan pastorals:
" All in the Downs the fleet was moored,
The streamers waving in the wind.
When black-eyed Susan came aboard.
Oh ! where shall I my true love find !
Tell me, ye jovial sailors, tell me true.
If my sweet WiUiam sails among the crew."^
D'Urfey's Muse, according to Gay, rejoiced with Joan and
Hodge over cakes and ale. Certainly there is a plebeian tone
to his songs, yet he would have made his sailor speak more
in character than does Gay's Sweet WilHam :
" If to far India's coast we sail.
Thy eyes are seen in diamonds bright.
Thy breath is Afriek's spicy gale.
Thy skin is ivory so white."
' It would be absurd to quarrel with this lyric, written in the
spirit of Watteau, because it is not realistic; it is however,
utterly remote from life, and what lyric verse needed was
ij. Underbill, The Poetical Works of John Oay, Muses' Library,
London, 1893, vol. II, p. 361.
3U ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
not artificial prettiness but some touch of passion and
imagination.
We have called Gay the chief lyrist of his age because of
the great vogue of his songs in The Beggar's Opera. As a
matter of fact, not one of them is as well written as " 'Twas
when the seas were roaring" from his The what d'ye call it;
but they caught the fancy, were sung everywhere, and made
his burlesque the greatest success the English stage had
seen. The song that saved the performance the first night
is a fair example of all the lyrics :
" Oh, ponder well ! be not severe ;
So save a wretched wife;
For on the rope that hangs my dear,
Depends poor Polly's life."
This is hardly a work of genius, and the best known song is
little better:
" How happy could I be with either,
Were t'other dear charmer away;
But while thus you teaze me together,
To neither a word will I say;
But toll de rol."i
Of the many songs in this opera (and we may include those
in Polly and Achilles) there is not one marked by fancy or
by delicacy of rhythm ; of imagination or passion there is
not the slightest trace. The only possible praise to be given
them is that they are vivacious and well suited for music.
They bear the same relation to the songs of the Elizabethan
dramatists that the pickpockets and women of the town who
sing them bear to Rosalind and Orlando.
We must mention two poets because each of them wrote
a popular lyric. James Thomson (1700-174<8), of The
Seasons, composed blank verse tragedies in the Elizabethan
1 Vol. II, pp. 296, 305.
THE RESTORATION LYRIC 3^5
manner, but with no lyrics. The six songs in his Masque of
Alfred are unimportant with the exception of the Patriotic
Ode with its refrain:
" Rule, Britannia, rule the waves ;
Britons never will be slaves."
This note of patriotism made the song famous. Thomson was
not a lyrist, and as his best critic has expressed it, he lacked
the power to concentrate in a single strophe the energy of
a passion or the life of the heart.^ Henry Carey (?-174!3),
a mediocre poet and musician, a composer of operas and
burlesques, was a most voluminous writer, publishing over
two hundred works. He prided himself chiefly upon his
musical ability, declaring that poetry was not his profession
but his amusement.^ The modem reader has no such luck,
for he can get but little amusement from Carey's songs. In
his best poem, his famous Sally in our Alley, he for once
absolutely succeeded. He tells us that in this ballad he
endeavored to set forth a "chaste and disinterested passion,
even in the lowest class of life." Charmed with the simplicity
of a shoemaker's prentice and his sweetheart, he followed
them in their outing to the puppet show, Moor-fields, and
the "farthing Pie-house," and sketched his poem "from
nature." Its value was at once recognized; Carey declares
with a touch of pride that though some ridiculed this study
of low life, he was "amply recompensed by the applause of
the divine Addison, who was pleased (more than once) to
mention it with approbation."'
When the greatest poet of this age composed a lyric he
could not equal the work of the lesser lights of Elizabeth's
1 L. Morel, James Thomson, Paris, 1895, pp. S81-587.
2 H. Carey, Poems on several Occasions, third edition, London, 1729,
Preface.
'P. 128. There is an amusing ballad on the popularity of the
Beggar's Opera on p. 151.
S46 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
day. Pope's Ode on Solitude, his Dying Christian to his
Sovl, and his Deistic hymn are small contributions to our
subject. No poet so gifted has been more destitute of lyric
inspiration. He has reflected the life of his age in his writ-
ings and he reminds us that the English lyric had never
seemed nearer extinction. This poverty of song is evident
in the Miscellanies. The fifth edition of Dryden's Miscel-
lanies was published in 1727. The number of lyrics in'the
six volumes is surprisingly small and the greater number are
by writers of the former century — Ben Jonson, Donne,
Milton, Carew, Marvell, Waller^ — or are taken from the
early Restoration Miscellanies. There are a few lyrics by
Dorset and Prior ; D'Urfey is represented by his
" The night her blackest sables wore,
And gloomy were the skies,"
but the gleaning is poor. It was not necessary for pastorals
to quote Spenser, or for satires to reprint Donne, but when
the age desired lyrics, the Miscellanies published Donne's
songs by the score.
It needed a new generation to regain the lyric, for an age
that sneers is rarely an age that sings. The Royal Society,
founded at the Restoration, hoped to raise up "a race of
young men .... invariably armed against all the encroach-
ments of enthusiasm." Whatever such a race might do, it
certainly could never write songs. Until there was raised up
a race of young poets wh,o could not only think deeply but
feel deeply and express profound emotions in song, the lyric
Muse could never re-ascend the heights from which she had
been banished. To show by what paths she climbed the slopes
of Parnassus (surely these classical allusions befit the Queen
Anne age) must be the theme of our next chapter.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The Lyric of the Tbansition
We have now come to the beginnings of the romantic
movement. On the borders of the new kingdom of romance
and song we meet poets who explore these forgotten or un-
discovered regions and yet return from time to time to their
old haunts. They are writers of the transition ; though they
foretell the future, in all their work there is much of the
thought and expression of the old school. The change that
came over lyric verse was so complete that we may call it a
revolution, yet no one of these writers led an open revolt
against the accepted standards of taste. There was no Hugo
in this movement, no self-constituted or chosen leader, no
concerted plan of action. These poets worked unostenta-
tiously, even timidly ; alone, they seemed to accomplish little ;
together, they prepared the way for the new Renaissance in
English verse.
It is not paradoxical to assert that the Queen Anne writers
themselves hastened the change in taste. As if by some in-
exorable law, every poetic school progresses until it reaches
the most fitting expression of its ideals. Until this is done,
the school remains ; once adequately accomplished, there is
nothing to be added, no last word to be spoken, and men's
minds turn elsewhere. The Restoration and Queen Anne
writers had brought to perfection the lyric of polished
common sense, of playful satire, of trifling fancy. It was
needless to seek to improve upon Rochester and Sedley, Prior
and Gay in their own fields, and accordingly there must be
a new lyric.
One of the first writers to show the approaching change
is William Shenstone (1714-1763). The romantic revival
SJ^8 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
meant a renewal of song ; more than half of Shenstone's poems
are lyrical. They have much that is old and in them the
pseudo-classic diction still lingers. When he hears the birds
sing in the woods, he "ranges the groves" to "explore the
science of the feathered choir." He does not listen to the
nightingale, he "construes its millifluent strain." In nearly
every page of his lyrics we find striking and amusing ex-
amples of false diction. A lover of nature, he continually
talks of the "hermit's cell," of "fountains," of "sylvan grots,"
the stereotyped phrases of the day. He can be as vague as
Pope in his descriptions ; "and where the turf diffused its
pomp of flowers" presents little to the eye.
This then is the old manner in Shenstone ; but there is a
better side to his work. Though he writes Pindarics, and
employs the measures of Sedley, he dislikes the accepted
metres ; in his songs and ballads, there is but one, The
Scholar's Relapse, written in the familiar anapests of Prior.
Pope in his Elegy to the Memory of an unfortunate Lady
employs the heroic couplet ; Shenstone decides that this
measure is apt "to render the expression either scanty or
constrained," and writes his twenty-six elegies in the metre
Gray afterwards employed. Gray read Shenstone atten-
tively and did not disdain to improve upon him :
" No wild ambition fired their tranquil breast,
To swell with empty sounds a spotless name,"
or
" Through the dim veil of evening's dusky shade.
Near some lone fane, or yew's funereal green,"'
have certainly a familiar sound. Though Shenstone never
approached Gray's melody, many of his stanzas have a
graceful movement :
1 The Poetical Works of William Shenstone, Esq., London, 1798, vol.
I, pp. 53, 13, Elegies xv and iv. Cf. H. A. Beers, A History of English
Romanticism in the XVIIl Century, N. Y., 1899, p. 138.
LYRIC OF THE TRANSITION S49
" On distant heaths^ beneath autumnal skies.
Pensive I saw the circling shade descend;
Weary and faint I heard the storm arise,
While the sun vanished like a faithless friend."'^
His best poem, A Pastoral Ballad (1743), is written in ana-
pests more musical than anything Prior attempted :
" When forced the fair nymph to forego.
What anguish I felt at my heart !
Yet I thought — but it might not be so —
'Twas with pain that she saw me depart.
She gazed, as I slowly withdrew;
My path I could hardly discern;
So sweetly she bade me adieu,
I thought that she bade me return."
If there is something of Prior in the turn of the last verses,
the following stanza shows more love for nature than we find
in any of the poets of the town :
" My banks they are furnished with bees,
Whose murmur invites one to sleep;
My grottos are shaded with trees.
And my hills are white-over with sheep.
I seldom have met with a loss,
Such health do my fountains bestow;
My fountains all bordered with moss,
Where the hare-bells and violets grow."^
Here we have one of the first clear indications of the new
melodies English song was to gain. Often in Shenstone's
poetry we seem to hear Cowley, Sedley, or Prior, but with
a difference ; it is as if one should take a familiar air and
weave about it new variations.
There is more that is new in Shenstone's mood than in his
style. The lyric has lost its wit, its gay recklessness ; he
turns to elegies which, he says, "should diffuse a pleasing
1 Elegy vii, vol. I, p. 20.
2 Vol. II, pp. 48, 49.
350 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
melancholy." Here is the new Muse, the Muse of low spirits.
Shenstone loved to be alone, to take his "plaintive reed" and
seek a "sequestered shade," when
" From a lone tower with reverend ivy crowned.
The pealing bell awaked a tender sigh."^
In all this there is little real emotion; he is but an amateur
in grief, and where we expect to hear the note of personal
sorrow, he gives us moral platitudes, yet the change from
the light-hearted lyric of the past is profoundly significant.
Our quotations have indicated another characteristic of
Shenstone's writings which was to assume the greatest
importance in the new lyric — a love for nature. Shenstone's
estate, the Leasowes, was renowned for its artificial garden
which he created;^ in all the artificiality of his songs and
elegies we find a genuine love of birds and flowers. In his
Ode on Rural Elegance, after talking of the "sprightly scenes
of mom," of harvests that "gild the plain," we come upon
these verses :
" Lo ! not an hedge-row hawthorn blows.
Or humble hare-bell paints the plain,
Or valley winds, or fountain flows,
Or purple heath is tinged in vain;
For such the rivers dash their foaming tides.
The mountain swells, the dale subsides.
E'en thriftless furze detains the wandering sight.
And the rough barren rock grows pregnant with delight."'
Shenstone is forgotten to-day, yet his Pastoral Ballad has
lost none of its freshness. Though his elegies are unevenly
written and weak in thought, they deserve remembrance, for
they show the lyric in the process of transmutation.
Thomas Gray (1716-1771) was a student and a recluse.
1 Vol. I, p. 50, Elegy xv.
2 Cf. Beers, op. cit., pp. 131-137.
3 Vol. I, p. 143.
LYRIC OF THE TRANSITION 36 1
Shy, sensitive, given to fits of depression ("Low spirits are
my true and faithful companions," he writes), he was not
the man to institute a propaganda against the Augustans,
yet he is a founder of the new poetry.^ He wrote with the
most scrupulous taste, revising, rejecting, forever polishing,
never satisfied; his Cambridge fellowship supplied his few
wants and he felt under no necessity to publish. Such self-
critical natures produce little and Gray had indeed what
William Watson aptly terms a "frugal note." His poetic
development was impeded by his absorption in many fields
of study, for he never gave himself wholly to his art. He was
a linguist with a predilection for French ; a keen reader and
critic of English literature; a botanist; a student of archi-
tecture; and a finished Greek scholar. Shortly before his
death, Cambridge University, where he lived and died, elected
him professor of Modern History.
Gray's earliest lyrics have a Queen Anne flavor. His Ode
on the Death of a favourite Cat is quite in the style of
Prior: the description of the unfortunate Selima is as neatly
drawn as Pope's pictures in the Rape of the Lock. Gray
actually began a didactic poem in the manner of Pope, The
Alliance of Education and Government, but it Is significant
of his change in taste that he never finished it. His three
earliest odes. On the Spring, On a distant prospect of Eton
College, and the Hymn to Adversity, are all in the old man-
ner. Spring offers us but the customary vague description,
with the conventional "zephyrs" and the "Hours, fair Venus'
train," together with much commonplace moralizing:
" How vain the ardour of the Crowd,
How low, how little are the Proud,
How indigent the Great!"
1 See W. L. Phelps, Selections from the Poetry and Prose of Thomas
Oray, Boston, 1894, p. 62. The Beginnings of the English Romantic
Movement, Boston, 1893, by the same author should be consulted for
this chapter.
S52 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
In the ode a fly terms the poet "poor moralist" ; the sting is
deserved. In one respect the poem is unconventional; it is
a spring song, yet saturated with melancholy.
His Eton ode is Addison's Vision of Mirzah turned into
verse. Looking at a band of vigorous English schoolboys
at their sports (they "urge the flying ball") he sees in his
mind's eye "black Misfortune's baleful train" — Anger, Fear,
Jealousy, Care — waiting in ambush for them.
" Alas, regardless of their doom,
The little victims play !"
Gray has not yet learned to prepare the reader for his
mournful mood ; the pessimism does not lay hold on us ; and
the poem lives chiefly in its concluding epigram, in the style
of Pope or Congreve, "Where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly
to be wise." The little known Hymn to Adversity, despite
its personifications and its Miltonic borrowings, is the best
of the three poems. Dimly suggesting Wordsworth's Ode to
Duty, it has an impressiveness that the other poems lack;
there is much more than rhetoric in it.
Had Gray written but these poems, he would be forgotten
or at the best remembered for a phrase or two. His Pindaric
odes are a great advance, but they too have not worn well ;
we regard them with respect but we do not reread them for
sheer pleasure. They are deliberate attempts on his part
to lead the Muse of lyric verse up the heights of Parnassus ;
their defect is that they are too deliberate. Gray's nature
lacked enthusiasm, indeed he scorned it, and he is never with
Spenser
" Rapt with the rage of his own ravished thoughts.''
The effects are too nicely calculated; the curtain rises too
soon and we see the scenery pulled upon the stage. As a
lover qi Greek poetry, he knew the greatness of Pindar and
LYRIC OF THE TRANSITION SBS
imitates afar off the stanzaic structure of his odes. His
metrical system, planned with the greatest care, does not
impress the reader who rarely stops to notice the agreement
of strophe with strophe, epode with epode. The form is half
the charm of the Elegy; the odes gain little or nothing from
their metrical scheme.
In the Progress of Poesy the reader is taken upon a high
mountain and surveys the world; he sees the Muse deserting
Greece for Italy, Italy for England, and witnesses a
triumphal march of England's greatest singers. By the
mere vastness of the view Gray hopes to thrill the reader, but
a great subject does not necessarily awake emotion and the
chances are that a writer will approach nearer the sublime
in a poem upon a single star rather than in an ode on the
solar system. Though there are eloquent passages, the
whole poem seems too remote from life and it is difficult to
understand how Lowell could assert that "The Progress of
Poesy overflies all other English lyrics hke an eagle."
The Bard, an ode which reflects Gray's interest in Welsh
poetry, is not only more interesting but more significant.
Here, in the spirit of Scott, is portrayed the aged minstrel,
the last of his race, standing
" On a rock, whose haughty brow
Frowns o'er old Conway's foaming flood,"
chanting his imprecations on the English invaders below
him. He sees "On yonder cliff^s, a griesly band," his brethren,
the murdered poets, who weave with their curses the "wind-
ing sheet of Edward's race." After a vision of the glories
of England under the Tudors, the Bard casts himself down
the cliff:
" He spoke, and headlong from the mountain's height
Deep in the roaring tide he plunged to endless night."
354- ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
This ode, more spirited, more imaginative, more musical than
the Progress of Poesy, is one of the first indications of the
rediscovery of the Middle Ages.
It is curious to observe the reception these odes received.
The public complained of their obscurity. "One very great
man," writes Gray, "had read them seven or eight times,"
and has "not above thirty questions to ask," while a "lady
of quality who is a great reader" never suspected that
"Nature's Darling" by "lucid Avon" referred to Shakes-
peare or that a more detailed account of a poet who saw the
secrets of the abyss and the glories of heaven
" but blasted with excess of light,
Closed his eyes in endless night,"
was a description of Milton !^ There is not in either poem a
single subtle thought and for English readers, the historical
allusions can hardly be considered recondite. The trouble
lay in the fact that for half a century the English lyric, if
we except a few odes by Cowley and Dryden, had not risen
above a superficial expression of commonplace thought and
feeling.
The Elegy written in a Country Churchyard appeared
anonymously in 1751 ; its first stanzas had been written nine
years before and no poem of Gray's had been revised with
more care. It became popular at once. Though modern his-
torical criticism has destroyed many cherished myths, it has
confirmed the well-known incident of Wolfe's quoting with
admiration "The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,"
the night before he fell on the Plains of Abraham. This was
in 1754 ; in three years the poem had become an accepted
classic.
The music of the Elegy is more remarkable than its
thought. As Lowell expressed it, Gray's originality lay in
his use of the vowels:
1 Phelps, Thomas Oray, p. 75.
LYRIC OF THE TRANSITION 365
" The curfew tolls the knell of parting day."
In ten syllables we have nine different vowel sounds and the
modulation in stanza after stanza is exquisite. In Cynthia,
an interminable poem in praise of Queen Elizabeth, Raleigh
had employed the same metre :
" These were those marvellous perfections,
The parents of my sorrow and my envy,
Most deathful and most violent infections ;
These be the tyrants that in fetters tie."^
The crudeness of such lines throws in relief Gray's achieve-
ment. He attempts no Pindaric flights ; it is the sober and
solemn expression of a quiet and resigned melancholy. There
is no real pessimism here, no revolt at the injustice of life;
his nature would have been incapable of expressing it, his
style could not have risen to it. The theme of the Elegy and
its dehberate music were wonderfully suited to Gray's char-
acter and to the taste of the age. Richardson's Clarissa
Harlowe, over which English readers loved to weep, had
appeared but three years before.
Turning to the substance of the Elegy, we notice a sym-
pathy for the peasant which the lyric had not hitherto ex-
pressed; the Damons of Enghsh poetry had been mere lay
figures and laments at their fate had no significance. Gray
finds pathos in the uneventful lives of ignorant men, in
their mouldering graves of turf, in their artless epitaphs
spelt by the unlettered Muse. The lyric has come closer to
life. If the musical, emotional, and we may add the pictorial
quality of the Elegy are new and altogether admirable, we
can not say as much of the thought. Editors have shown
a misplaced ingenuity in detecting parallels for nearly every
line, but it needed little research to show that his apothegms
are often unoriginal in the extreme, at times reminding us
1 J. Hannah, Poems of Raleigh, Wotton, etc., p. 39.
356 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
of the maxims of Queen Anne verse. There is, however, this
all-important difference in the Elegy: "its moral is suffused
with emotion and expressed concretely." The Augustans
delivered their moral sentences as a series of cold, abstract
propositions, as Pope gives us his critical maxims in the
Essay on Criticism. Gray prepares us for his thought pre-
cisely as Hamlet takes us to the edge of the grave when he
tells us to what base uses we may return.
To the average reader the Elegy loses its effectiveness as
it draws to its close; Gray writes his own epitaph, yet there
is httle direct self-revelation in the poem. In this respect it
is interesting to compare it with Lamartine's Le Lac and
Hugo's Tristesse d'Olympio, two of the most beautiful ex-
amples of French elegy. Lamartine's poem resembles Gray's
in its harmony ; without adopting Gray's metre, he has much
of his music. His thought is quite different from the English
poet's, for the melancholy that oppresses him comes from a
sense of personal loss. "Time's winged chariot" has passed
swiftly by and he is left but the memory of his love. Hugo's
elegy is a finer piece of work. The lover, revisiting alone
his old trysting-places, finds that all is changed ; even nature
is not the same, for the tree whose bark they carved has been
cut down and their woodland paths have been turned into
highways :
" Que peu de temps suffit pour changer toutes choses !
Nature au front serein, comma vous oubliez !
Et comme vous brisez dans vos metamorphoses
Les fils mysterieux ou nos coeurs sent lies !"
The French poets not only are more personal but they are
more frank in their expression of grief ; la grande passion
never laid hold on Gray.
It is not in the Elegy but in the one sonnet Gray wrote,
on the death of Richard W'est, that we find his personal
LYRIC OF THE TRANSITION 357
emotions most clearly expressed. In spite of its traces of
Queen Anne diction, too severely criticised by Wordsworth,
the poem is thoroughly modem in its outspoken expression
of grief; the lyric is regaining its subjective quality. It is
significant that Gi;uy should have chosen for this lament the
long neglected sonnet form; once more he points the way to
the new lyric.
William Collins (1721-1759) was as fastidious a writer
as Gray, revising and destroying his work, unable to satisfy
his own standards. Such a method of composition generally
means scanty production. In this case it was rendered
inevitable by physical debility ending in madness. The last
decade of his short life was darkened by insanity.
Gray and Collins are alike in the fact that neither poet
began his career with a sudden break from the Augustan
school ; their progess towards romanticism was a leisurely
one. Among Collins's earliest writings are a series of
eclogues none the less artificial because their scene of action
is a "valley near Bagdat," "the desert," or a "mountain in
Circassia" instead of Arcadia or the banks of some English
stream. Equally pseudo-classic in style is the verse epistle
to Sir Thomas Hanmer written in the heroic couplet with
reminiscences of Pope's Essay on Criticism:
" As Arts expired, resistless Dullness rose ;
Goth, priests, or Vandals — all were Learning's foes.
Till Julius first recalled each exiled maid.
And Cosmo owned them in the Etrurian shade."'^
Though these were but early experiments which Collins
abandoned as he felt the new impulses and turned towards
the new lyric, yet even in his finest work we frequently hear
the echoes of Queen Anne verse.
Gray tells us in his letters (among the most interesting
1 W. C. Bronson, The Poems of William Collins, Boston, 1898, p. 27.
S58 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
in the language) what writers he admired and what were his
ideals in writing ; it is in his poems alone that we see the mind
of Collins. At the first reading we are struck by his out-
spoken admiration for the Greek lyric. The Augustans were
Latin in their sympathies, their models were Juvenal and
Martial, Virgil and Horace, poets from whom Collins turns
to "revive the just designs of Greece." In English literature
his admirations were Shakespeare, Spenser, and above all
Milton, the Milton of the minor poems. More than any other
piece of writing, II Penseroso inspired the poetry of the mid-
century. We feel its quiet melancholy from Gray's Elegy
to the humblest verses forgotten in the columns of the
Gentleman's Magazine, while its personifications, "spare
Fast," "retired Leisure," the "cherub Contemplation," are
undoubtedly responsible for the endless train of allegorical
figures that stalk through the odes of the period.
Collins prefixed to his Odes (1746) three verses from
Pindar asking for "boldness" and "resistless force" in his
poetry, and it is apparent that he wished to appeal to the
imagination and to move the deepest feelings. Tempera-
mentally unfitted for Pindar's style, his effort to follow him
even afar off explains a certain artificiality and coldness
which we discover in many of the odes. He deals in abstrac-
tions ; he writes poems to Pity, Mercy, Fear, Peace, but
these qualities never really possess him; his subjects are too
deliberately chosen ; they do not embody his desires or his
feelings. We see this especially in the Ode to Liberty. It
belongs to what we may call the panoramic school of poetry ;
in it we are shown Greece and Rome, Venice and Switzer-
land, and finally Liberty in England. There is in all this no
cry of revolt, no shadow of impending revolution, no desire
to defend or arouse the oppressed. The ending is undoubt-
edly the weakest part of the ode, but we cite it because it
emphasizes the lack of "boldness" and "resistless force."
Liberty is welcomed to England:
LYRIC OF THE TRANSITION 359
" Her let our sires and matrons hoar
Welcome to Britain's ravaged shore;
Our youths, enamoured of the fair,
Play with the tangles of her hair;
Till, in one loud applauding sound,
The nations shout to her around,
■ O how supremely art thou blest !
Thou, lady, thou shalt rule the West !' "^
The Odes, neglected to-day, were coldly received when they
appeared. The Passions, often set to music, proved the most
popular; it is by no means the best, although it has some-
thing of the effectiveness of Dryden's Alexander's Feast and
should be read side by side with it.
The Odes fail, then, not because of their diction or their
music, but because they deal too much in abstract qualities.
When the ballad makers wished to inspire fear or pity they
did not invoke
" Thou to whom the world unknown
With all its shadowy shapes is shown;''
or
" The Friend of man assigned
With balmy hands his wounds to bind,"
they showed us the three sons taking leave of the Wife of
Usher's Well or Lady Margaret in her burning castle hear-
ing the cries of her children. Spenser is deeply moved by the
misfortunes of Una ; nothing under heaven stirs his com-
passion as "beauty brought t'unworthy wretchedness," and
he feels his heart
" perst with so great agonie,
When such I see, that all for pittie I could die,"
yet few readers find genuine pathos in the distress of this
allegorical character. Accordingly the best odes Collins
wrote have but few of these figures which belong to the
ip. 50.
S60 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
masque and not to the drama of life. His Ode to Simplicity,
the finest product of his Greek studies, is worthy of its sub-
ject; there is no attempt for the sublime, no startling
antitheses, but a purely drawn picture and a gentle and
tender music. The ode written for those who fell fighting
against the Pretender is as flawless a gem as the Greek
anthology can ofi^er, a perfect dirge in twelve lines. The
personifications that mar the other odes are exquisite here:
" When Spring, with dewy fingers cold.
Returns to deck their hallowed mold,"
or
" There Honour comes, a pilgrim grey.
To bless the turf that wraps their clay."
The lyric Muse sang for the Stuart cause ; this is the one
English lyric that vies with the Jacobite songs for Bonnie
Charlie. Had Collins written but this, his name would have
remained.
The Ode to Evening is his masterpiece. It is 11 Penseroso
once more. No personal sorrow moves us ; but that vague
melancholy which the approach of night brings. So perfect
is the modulation of the verse that though the ear expects
rhyme it does not feel cheated by the unrhymed measure :
" But when chill blustering winds, or driving rain.
Forbid my willing feet, be mine the hut
That from the mountain's side
Views wilds, and swelling floods,
" And hamlets brown, and dim-discovered spires.
And hears their simple bell, and marks o'er all
Thy dewy fingers draw
The gradual dusky veil."'^
That atmosphere which modern poets seek so earnestly to
create is ever apparent here. Were it not for the disturbing
1 P. 54.
LYRIC OF THE TRANSITION 361
stanza that concludes the ode, it would rank with the most
perfect accomplishments of English lyrists.
This, then, is CoUins's field, the awakening of tender
emotion; his song for Shakespeare's Cymbeline gains this
effect and his lament for Thomson is in the same strain :
" Remembrance oft shall haunt the shore
When Thames in summer wreaths is drest,
And oft suspend the dashing oar
To bid his gentle spirit rest."'^
yet Collins was capable of writing in a larger, broader style.
The unfinished Ode on the Popular Superstitions of the High-
lands of Scotland, considered as the subject of poetry, shows
a strength both of thought and of diction found in no other
one of his poems. Here he is possessed of his subject; he
writes, not of Superstition, hateful Goddess, but of the weird
beliefs of the Highland peasants — of second sight, of wizards,
of kelpies — enthusiastically urging his friend to embody them
in verse. He has caught the tone of mystery and awe ; there
is more terror in his single stanza depicting a herdsman
drowned by a water sprite than in all his Ode to Fear. Not
only is this poem of the highest importance as foreshadowing
the romantic school (Lowell remarks that it contains the
whole school in the germ) but it is equally notable in its
sure indication that Collins, had he lived, would have gained
some of that power he so admired in the Greek lyric.
II
We now approach the minor lyrists of the age and those
greater writers who occasionally tried their hand at lyric
verse, though with no marked success. To the first group
belong the Wartons.
Both Joseph Warton (1722-1800) and Thomas Warton
(1728-1790) were avowed imitators of Milton. They came
ip. 65.
ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
by their admiration for him honestly; their father, Thomas
Warton (1687-1745), a writer of verse epistles, imitations
of Horace, and typical Queen Anne satires, had felt the
influence of II Penseroso :
" Nymphs of the groves, in green arrayed.
Conduct me to your thickest shade,
Deep in the bosom of the vale.
Where haunts the lonesome nightingale.
Where Contemplation, maid divine.
Leans against some aged pine.
Wrapt in solemn thought profound.
Her eyes fixed stedfast on the ground."^
The sons were not content with occasional borrowing, for
their whole spirit was Miltonic ; the revolt of Gray and
Collins against the pseudo-classic standards was implied
rather than expressed, but the Wartons were openly defiant.
Joseph Warton, whose Essay on Pope (1756-1782) is the
first important critical document of the new school of poetry,
was a lesser poet than his brother. His odes To Health, To
Liberty, To Fancy resemble the odes of Collins but are less
interesting; it is instructive to compare Warton's Ode to
Content with the Ode to Evening, for though Warton uses its
unrhymed stanza, he can not catch its music :
" Hail, meek-eyed maiden, clad in sober gray.
Whose soft approach the weary woodman loves.
As, homeward bent to kiss his prattling babes.
He jocund whistles through the twilight groves,"^
To-day he is little read because in his own field he is surpassed
by his brother, to say nothing of Gray and Collins.
Thomas Warton began his career by composing when
seventeen a poem in blank verse, entitled significantly The
1 Thomas Warton, Poems on Several Occasions, London, 1748, p. 15.
i Poems of Dr. Joseph Warton in Chalmers' English Poets, voL
XVIII, p. 167.
LYRIC OF THE TRANSITION
Pleasures of Melancholy. In addition to the Miltonic cast
of the rhapsody, it is interesting to notice the young poet's
enthusiasm for Spenser, whom he prefers to Pope. The Rape
of the Lock, he tells us, does not please him, for
" The gay description palls upon the sense,
And coldly strikes the mind with feeble bliss."
and Belinda, "in all the lustre of brocade," must yield to Una.
The influence of Spenser, however, is felt in the descriptive
poems of this period and not in the lyrics. Warton's Odes,
published the same year Collins sent his to the press, are
valuable not as works of art but as illustrating the progress
of the lyric. His style is an intimate one and he speaks with
the utmost freedom of his tastes and desires. His person-
ality, however, was not strong enough to find its own method
of expression ; admiring Milton, he is not content to catch
a hint or to reflect his spirit, but he plunders whole passages.
In two respects he shows originality: he is a lover of nature
and as he tells us in his sonnet on Stonehenge, he delights "to
muse on many an ancient tale renowned." Warton's position
as a leader in the new nature poetry has not been sufficiently
recognized; all through his poems are passages of sympa-
thetic observation of birds and flowers that have by no means
lost their charm :
" Midst gloomy glades, in warbles clear,
Wild nature's sweetest notes they hear;
On green untrodden banks they view
The hyacinth's neglected hue :
In their lone haunts, and woodland roimds,
They spy the squirrel's airy bounds:
And startle from her ashen spray,
Across the glen, the screaming jay."'
1 Richard Mant, The Poetical Works of the late Thomas Warton,
Oxford, 1802, vol. I, p. 125. Cf. Ode on the First of April, Ode on the
Approach of Summer.
364- ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
Not only in his History of English Poetry, but in all his
writings Warton showed the fascination which "the chronicles
of wasted time" possessed for him, and the age of chivalry
inspired him as it did Scott ; there is much of the author of
Ivanhoe and Marmion foreshadowed in Warton's two odes,
The Crusade and The Grave of King Arthur. The first ode,
the most spirited of Warton's poems, is supposed to be com-
posed by Cceur de Lion and Blondel.
" Salem, in ancient majesty,
Arise, and lift thee to the sky !
Soon on thy battlements divine
Shall wave the badge of Constantine.
Ye Barons, to the sim unfold
Our cross with crimson wove and gold!"'^
The Grave of King Arthur is descriptive rather than lyrical;
it stirs the imagination especially by its use of names that
carry with them the glamour of romance:
" O'er Cornwall's cliffs the tempest roared.
High the screaming sea-mew soared;
On Tintagel's topmost tower
Darksome fell the sleety shower."^
In lyrical poetry it is unfortunate that the anthologist
and not the critic has often decided what verses shall be
rescued from "Time's fell hand." Neither the Golden
Treasury of Songs and Lyrics nor the Oxford Booh of
English Verse includes any one of Warton's nine sonnets.
Two should be found in every comprehensive anthology of
English lyrics. The sonnet written in Dugdale's Monasticon
is a restrained yet an eloquent defense of the antiquary,
"of painful pedantry the poring child," for Warton has
found that
1 Vol. II, p. 49.
2 Vol. II, p. 58.
LYRIC OF THE TRANSITION 365
" Nor rough, nor barren, are the winding ways
Of hoar Antiquity, but strown with flowers."
The first four verses of the sonnet to the river Loddon are
enough to save it:
" Ah ! what a weary race my feet have run,
Since first I trod thy banks with alders crowned,
And thought my way was all through fairy ground.
Beneath thy azure sky, and golden sun."^
If life had brought disillusionments, Warton could comfort
himself with the thought that his days had not been useless,
"nor with the Muse's laurel unbestowed."
The two great contemporaries of the Wartons, Goldsmith
and Johnson, were unmoved by the new lyric poetry; or
rather, Johnson was moved to ridicule the
" Uncouth words in disarray,
Tricked in antique ruff and bonnet.
Ode, and elegy, and sonnet."
He wrote a few odes — not Pindarics ; a single stanza suffi-
ciently illustrates their quahty :
" Now o'er the rural kingdom roves
Soft Pleasure with her laughing train.
Love warbles in the vocal groves.
And vegetation plants the plain,"^
Respect for a great name prohibits further quotation. Gold-
smith (1728-1774), always the idyllic poet even when he
writes his novel, has left but one good lyric, "When lovely
woman stoops to folly." Sung by Olivia in the Vicar of
Wakefield, its efi^ectiveness is due principally to its setting.
1 Vol. II, pp. 150, 160.
2 T. M. Ward, The Poems of Johnson, Goldsmith, Oray, and Collins,
Muses' Library, London, 1905, pp. 89, 72.
see ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
There are many lyrics in Goldsmith's Oratorio but they are
all unimportant :
" Hope, like the taper's gleamy light.
Adorns the wretch's way.
And still, as darker grows the night.
Emits a brighter ray."^
is a typical stanza. The revival of lyric verse, so successfully
inaugurated by Gray, Collins, and the Wartons, met with
no support from the accredited leaders of English thought.
Only in the Queen Anne age have the chief writers of a period
in which letters flourished been so destitute of the lyric
impulse.
The drama of the day contained lyrics, but few possess
the least merit. In the Duenna Sheridan inserted a number
of songs.
" I ne'er could any lustre see
In eyes that would not look on me;"
and the more familiar, "Had I a heart for falsehood framed,"
show a certain skill of expression ; "Here's to the maiden of
bashfull sixteen," in the School for Scandal has an attractive
liveliness, but such lyrics have little substance, and a single
phrase from Dekker's or Shakespeare's songs is worth them
all.
One writer for the theatre deserves remembrance for his
lyrics. Charles Dibdin (1745-1814), actor, dramatist, com-
poser, singer, was a popular figure during the last three
decades of the century. Of an attractive personality, with
"a voice of no great power or compass but of a sweet and
mellow quality," his dramatic entertainments depended upon
his songs for their success. As an admirer has pointed out,
he was the last of the bards ; Moore used well-known Irish
melodies, but Dibdin invariably composed the music for his
1 P. 190.
LYRIC OF THE TRANSITION 367
verses. He was a most voluminous writer; he produced
some nine hundred songs and claimed that he had written the
words and music of the best ones in less than an hour.
Dibdin essayed all types of lyrics — love songs, hunting
songs, war songs, Irish and Scottish songs — ^but his sailor
songs, though uninspired, contain his most genuine and his
most skillful writing. He had never shipped before the
mast, yet he became the laureate of the British tar, giving
to him the same popularity that Kipling's Barrack Room
Balladg brought to the soldier in India, with this difference:
that Dibdin lacked the modern poet's realism, narrative
power, and dramatic force. His sailor is a sentimental,
idealized figure, fearless, patriotic, and above all, a faithful
lover of his Poll. Dibdin wrote in an easy, swinging style
and from his first lyric of the sea:
" Blow high, blow low, let tempests tear
The mainmast by the board;"
until his last :
" Some sweetheart or wife that he loved as his life
Each drank, while he wished he could hail her;
But the standing toast that pleased the most
Was — the wind that blows, the ship that goes.
And the lass that loves a sailor !"^
he could boast that English sailors had made his songs their
own. For the modern reader they do not strike deep enough,
and though they are the best in the drama from 1750 to
the close of the century, they are quite forgotten ; even Tom
Bowling, a "sailor's epitaph" on his own brother and the
finest example of his serious style, has disappeared from
most anthologies.'
The poetical miscellanies of the day can not claim our
1 G. Hogarth, The Songs of Charles Dibdin, London, 1843, p. xxvii.
2 Pp. 28, 81.
3 P. 97.
ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
attention.^ Their only good lyrics were those poems by
Gray, Collins, or Warton which we have already considered ;
their numerous imitations of these writers — especially the
interminable elegies — are not amusing enough to be con-
sidered unconscious parodies. As for the song books of the
day, the "Songsters" and "Jovial Companions," their only
good lyrics were the old ones and in these compilations we
frequently go back to Elizabethan times. There was much
verse published in the Gentleman's Magazine, established
1731, but it is astonishing to see there the Queen Anne
tradition long surviving in satire and verse epistle. One
may dismiss the minor poets of the day with a single
phrase — they were hopelessly dull and uninspired. One
Miscellany, however, was epoch-making — Percy's Reliques
of Ancient Poetry, 1765. In this book were brought to light
again not only the best of the old ballads but some of the
finest of the old lyrics : songs from Harleian MS. 2253,
Chaucer, and from TotteVs Miscellany; the most charac-
teristic stanzas of Daniel and Drayton, Lyly and Shirley,
Raleigh and Wotton, Carew, Suckling and Lovelace. Such
poems were a more enduring source of inspiration than the
much-followed odes of Gray and Collins and the next genera-
tion of writers found in this collection many hints for their
finest achievements. Age had not withered the infinite variety
of these songs which showed a new race of poets that the
noblest thoughts and the strongest emotions needed no
Pindaric lyre.
Ill
A special province of lyric verse — the hymns of the
church — demands our attention at this point. When Stem-
hold, about 1547, published nineteen psalms in the simple
and popular ballad stanza, he unconsciously decided the form
1 See for example, A Collection of Poems in four volumes, By several
hands, J. Dodsley, London, 1783.
LYRIC OF THE TRANSITION
for countless religious songs. No one has attempted to
estimate the number of hymns written in the eighteenth
century ; it is certain, however, that in this great mass of
poetry there is very little that shows artistic excellence. Of
the vast majority of hymn writers it may be asserted as a
general rule that their spirit is willing but their style is weak.
We retrace our steps to the previous age and find in the
writings of Thomas Ken (1637-1711), bishop of Bath and
Wells, the first indications of the hymn writing which was
later to accompany the religious awakening and the rise
of the Methodists. Ken was an eloquent preacher, a musi-
cian, and a poet who essayed in vain the epic style. The
three hymns published in the Manual of Prayers for the use
of Winchester scholars contain his best writing ; two of them,
"Awake, my soul, and with the sun," and "Glory to thee,
my God, this night," have become rehgious classics.
A much more voluminous writer was the dissenter Isaac
Watts (1674!-174<8), who composed some six hundred hymns
and versions of the Psalms. He published in 1706 Horce
Lyricas, a volume which included several odes showing faint
traces of Cowley; Watts speaks of his "bold harp profusely
played, Pindarical," but with the exception of "profusely,"
his view of his work is quite erroneous. Dr. Johnson, who
admired the character of Watts, found it difficult to comment
upon his poetry. He could, however, bestow on him the
praise "the general interest of mankind requires to be given
to writers who please and do not corrupt, who instruct and
do not decoy." The bare possibility of the author of "Let
dogs delight to bark and bite," and "How doth the little
busy bee," corrupting and decoying is delicious. Unlike
Crashaw and Vaughan, he has no mistress, real or supposed.
" No Phyllis shall infect the air,
With her unhallowed name."^
1 "Meditation in a grove" in Horas Lyricw.
870 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
His original hymns often attain a noble dignity and are
not without imaginative lines :
" Lord of the armies of the sky,
He marshals all the stars.
Red comets lift their banners high.
And loud proclaim his wars."^
while his versions of the psalms, by no means mere para-
phrases, have at times a simplicity and a directness of
expression which makes them altogether worthy to be placed
beside the canticles from which they were taken. "God is
a refuge for his saints" and "Our God, our help in ages
past" are his masterpieces. His Divine Songs for Children
(1715), which have given many phrases to the language and
which, in certain Knes dimly foretell Blake, contain his tender
and pathetic "Hush, my dear, lie still and slumber," sung
more than any other English cradle song. If popularity
alone determined worth. Watts would be one of our greatest
poets.
The tradition of Watts was continued by John Wesley
(1703-1791) and his brother Charles (1708-1788), a better
poet whose style is more vigorous than that of Watts but
who has given less to our hymnals. Among other famous
hymns of the period are Toplady's (1740-1788) "Rock of
Ages," Skelton's (1707-1787) "Jesus, lover of my soul,"
Newton's (1725-1807) "How sweet the name of Jesus
sounds," and Williams's (1717-1791) "Guide me, 0 thou
great Jehovah." It is a strange fact that the eighteenth
century, popularly considered to be spiritually dead, has
expressed most effectively in song those religious feelings
which move all types of character.^
1 God's Dominion and Decrees.
2Cf. Book II of F. T. Palgrave's The Treasury of Sacred Song,
Oxford, 1890. This is the best anthology of religious verse.
LYRIC OF THE TRANSITION 371
Christopher Smart (1722-1770) and WilHam Cowper
(1731-1800) are distinguished from these religious poets
because they wrote on secular as well as upon divine themes.
Smart had an unhappy life, descending from a fellowship
in Pembroke College, Cambridge, to the precarious exist-
ence of Grub Street. His Song to David, composed while
confined in a madhouse, was published in 1763. It is one
of the most remarkable poems of the century, unevenly
written yet ranging from the pathetic to the sublime and in
turn tender, lofty, and impassioned in its expression. It
has a peculiar quality ; there is nothing in contemporary
writing to compare with such stanzas as :
" Sweet is the dew that falls betimes.
And drops upon the leafy limes ;
Sweet Hermon's fragrant air:
Sweet is the lily's silver bell.
And sweet the wakeful tapers' smell
That watch for early prayer."
or
" Glorious^the northern lights a-stream ;
Glorious the song, when God's the theme;
Glorious the thunder's roar:
Glorious Hosannah from the den;
Glorious the catholic Amen;
Glorious the martyr's gore."
The mysticism and emotional force of the poem were beyond
the taste of the day; the editor of The Poems of the late
Christopher Smart, in two volumes, Reading, 1791, did not
reprint it, for he included only "such poems as were likely
to be acceptable to the reader."^
iThe poem, half lyrical and half descriptive, consists of eighty-six
stanzas. See A Song to David by the late Christopher Smart, London,
1819. The Oxford Book of Verse, p. 538, prints eighteen stanzas. Smart's
pathetic Hymn to the Supreme Being has been too much overshadowed
by the Song.
S72 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
William Cowper, like Smart, brooded over his imagined
wickedness until he believed himself to be a spiritual outcast,
doomed to destruction. At one time he found relief in read-
ing Herbert's Temple, but his relatives caused him to lay
aside the book, fearing that it increased his morbid ten-
dencies. This religious melancholia resulted in temporary
insanity and he was confined in a madhouse ; from such bitter
experience sprang his hymns. Written in conjunction with
his friend John Newton, the Olney Hymns, sixty-seven of
them by Cowper, appeared in three books in 1779. In gen-
eral, little individuality can be shown in these religious songs,
for the limitations of the form and even of the vocabulary
are very definite ones and the tendency is to cast all spiritual
thought and emotion in purely conventional molds. Cowper's
finest hymns, however, are readily differentiated from those
of Watts or Ken by their intensity of feeling and by their
more intimate tone. "Hark, my soul! it is the Lord," "God
moves in a mysterious way," and "Oh ! for a closer walk
with God" are the very flower of the religious lyrics of the
eighteenth century.'
One could scarcely expect to find in the writer of these
hymns a worthy follower of Prior. In his early poems
Cowper plainly imitated Waller, Sackville, and the Queen
Anne lyrists, but above all, "dear Mat Prior's easy jingle."
" Matthew, (says Fame) with endless pains
Smoothed and refined the meanest strains;
Nor suffered one ill-chosen rhyme
To escape him, at the idlest time ;
And thus o'er all a lustre cast.
That, while the language lives, shall last."^
We do not need this eulogy to show us where Cowper found
his model for such lines as :
1 H. S. Milford, The Complete Poetical Works of William Cowper,
Oxford, 1907, pp. 444, 455, 433.
2 P. 268.
LYRIC OF THE TRANSITION 373
" Let her guess what I muse on, when rambling alone
I stride o'er the stubble each day with my gun,
Never ready to shoot till the covey is flown.
" Let her think what odd whimsies I have in my brain,
When I read one page over and over again.
And discover at last that I read it in vain.""^
He has Prior's light and graceful manner of description :
" The black bird has fled to another retreat
Where the hazels afford him a screen from the heat.
And the scene where his melody charmed me before.
Resounds with his sweet-flowing ditty no more."^
Such a stanza might have come from Dowrv-Hall. Cowper
has absolutely caught Prior's gayety, his kindly humor, his
whimsical manner of alluding to himself:
" These carpets, so soft to the foot,
Caledonia's traffic and pride !
Oh spare them, ye knights of the boot !
Escaped from a cross-country ride !
This table and mirror within.
Secure from collision and dust.
At which I oft shave cheek and chin.
And periwig nicely adjust."'
If Cowper, in his lighter moods, turned back to the days
of Anne, in his deeper moments he anticipated the simplicity
and the pathos of Wordsworth. His easy, unadorned style
did not desert him when he expressed the strongest emotions ;
his words sink deeply because they are spoken so quietly.
His poem on Selkirk, "I am monarch of all I survey" — a
lyrical monologue — ^has achieved an unjustified popularity.
It has little imagination or feeling and reads as though it
1 P. 270.
2 P. 363.
3 P. 378.
S7Jf ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
had been written not by a castaway but by a beau in a
coffee house. His dirge on the loss of the "Royal George"
possesses, as Palgrave has pointed out, a "bare and truly
Greek simplicity of phrase"; there could be no greater
contrast to the pride, pomp and circumstance of the Pin-
daric odes than these verses, simple as the old ballads :
" It was not in the battle.
No tempest gave the shock.
She sprang no fatal leak,
She ran upon no rock;
His sword was in the sheath,
His fingers held the pen,
When Kempenfelt went down.
With twice four hundred men."^
Cowper is most inspired when he writes of his own life and
two poems expressing his devotion for Mary Unwin are
among the most sincere and affecting lyrics in the language.^
There are many sonnets better constructed than Mary! I
want a lyre with other strings, but none more beautiful or
heartfelt in the intimate revelation of admiration and love.
This poem and To Mary stand alone in this century, for
Cowper's deeply felt verses on his mother's picture. Oh that
those lips had language, are not lyrical in form. One feels
in reading these two lyrics a sense of constraint as when
some intimate conversation is overheard, for here we have
"such fair question as soul to soul affordeth." To Mary is
more affecting than the sonnet ; its quiet metre, its homely
pictures, its frank realism, its avoidance of the slightest
trace of sentimentality render the emotion so poignant that
Palgrave is justified in declaring that "Cowper is our highest
master in simple pathos."'
1 P. 344. One is hardly prepared to follow Palgrave in making of
this poem a touchstone of the reader's taste.
2 Pp. 421, 427.
3 Golden Treasury of Songs and Lyrics, notes.
LYRIC OF THE TRANSITION 376
IV
Thomas Chatterton (1752-1770) and William Blake
(1757-1827), the heralds of the romantic movement, stand
apart from and above the poets of their day. Both were of
imagination all compact; and though their visions beheld
two different worlds, we may consider them together.
Chatterton, apprenticed to an attorney, recreated Bristol
of the fifteenth century and wrote, in what he believed to be
middle English, poems that he attributed to Thomas Rowley,
a purely imaginary character. He went to London to try
his fortune; within four months he found himself alone and
starving — and took poison. But one of his Rowley poems
had been printed; they were published in 1777.
The tragedy of his life profoundly impressed the poets
of the next generation. To Wordsworth he was "the mar-
vellous Boy";^ Coleridge, who called him
"the wondrous boy.
An amaranth, which earth seemed scarce to own,"^
wrote an impassioned Monody on the Death of Chatterton,
dwelhng more upon the "story of his woes" than upon his
poetry. Keats writes a sonnet to the "Dear child of sorrow —
son of misery!" and dedicates Endymion to his memory. It
was, however, a Frenchman who paid the most striking
tribute to him. Alfred de Vigny's Chatterton, acted at the
Theatre Fran^ais in 1835, is a protest against the "per-
petual immolation of the poet," to use the language of his
emotional preface, and an attack on society which neglects
the artist and even forces him to his doom. De Vigny re-
garded Chatterton as the personification of neglected genius
and accordingly his drama is a rhapsody. We find Chat-
terton in love with a certain Kitty Bell, humiliated by super-
1 Resolution and Independence.
2 On Observing a Blossom on the First of February, 1796.
S76 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
cilious noblemen, his companions at Oxford, and upbraided
by the Lord Mayor of London because he writes verses!
This stony-hearted dignitary offers the penniless boy the
position of valet de chambre; rather than degrade himself
and renounce his art, the poet dies and with him, Kitty Bell.
Knowing Chatterton's history, it is difficult to judge his
writings impartially. That strangest of fathers, Patrick
Bronte, wishing his children, mere babes, to "speak with less
timidity," gave them a mask and told them "to stand back
and speak boldly under cover of it" in answer to his ques-
tions.'^ This method certainly elicited remarkable replies.
When Chatterton wrote with no mediaeval disguise, he was
merely an imitative, precocious boy ; when he assumed the
mask of Rowley, he was a poet. His acknowledged verses
are noteworthy not for their quality but because of the cir-
cumstances under which they were written. They are quite
conventional and there is little difficulty in discovering his
models :
" Wet with the dew the yellow hawthorns bow ;
The rustic whistles through the echoing cave ;
Far o'er the lea the breathing cattle low,
And the full Avon lifts the darkened wave."^
In the Rowley poems also Chatterton followed models.
His masterpiece, The Ballad of Charity, written during his
last weeks in London, is the story of a mediaeval good Samari-
tan told with Spenser's color and rich detail ; the Bristowe
Tragedy harks back to the ballads in the Reliques, yet in
these poems is a quality all his own. From dictionaries,
from Chaucer and Spenser, he had made for himself a glos-
sary of ancient words and phrases often curiously inaccu-
rate and erroneous ; as Jonson said of Spenser, "he writ
1 Mrs. Gaskell, Life of Charlotte Bronti, chapter III.
2W. W. Skeat, The Poetical Works of Thomas Chatterton, London,
1871, I, p. 55.
LYRIC OF THE TRANSITION 377
no language."^ Composing the Rowley poems in this strange
dialect, his mind seemed to take on the very color of
the mediaeval world. If Professor Beers finds the best quality
of his verse to be its unexpectedness — "sudden epithets of a
wild and artless sweetness" — certainly the best quality of
his mind is its intuitive perception of the romance and
mystery of the past.
The lyrical element in the Rowley poems is not their chief
one; the poems to which we have just alluded are, with most
of his work, descriptive and narrative. His best songs are
in his tragedy of Aella. The stanzas sung by the third min-
strel show a lusciousness of phrase that must have attracted
Keats :
" When Autumn sere and sunburnt doth appear,
With his gold hand gilding the falling leaf,
Bringing up Winter to fulfil the year.
Bearing upon his back the ripened sheaf.
When all the hills with woody seed are white.
When lightning-fires and gleams do meet from far the sight ;
" When the fair apples, red as evening sky.
Do bend the tree unto the fruitful ground.
When juicy pears, and berries of black dye.
Do dance in air, and call the eyes around ;
Then, be the evening foul, or be it fair,
Methinks my heart's delight is mingled with some care."
The "song by Syr Thybbot Gorges," who by a miracle must
have foreseen the Restoration writers, has the lilt of Prior :
" She said, and Lord Thomas came over the lea.
As he the fat deerkins was chasing.
She put up her knitting, and to him went she ;
So we leave them both kindly embracing."
1 Cf . Skeat's Essay on the Bowley Poems, vol. II.
S78 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
His finest lyric is a dirge, reminiscent of Ophelia's song:
" Oh, sing unto my roundelay.
Oh, drop the briny tear with me,
Dance no more on holiday;
Like a running river be.
My love is dead.
Gone to his death-bed.
All under the willow-tree.
" See ! the white moon shines on high.
Whiter is my true love's shroud.
Whiter than the morning sky.
Whiter than the evening cloud.
My love is dead.
Gone to his death-bed,
All under the willow-tree."^
Chatterton saw instinctively the poetry in
" old, unhappy, far off things
And battles long ago."
Richard Cceur de Lion and his knights, the pomp and
pageantry of mediaeval tournament and battle, inspired him
as they did Scott ; with more knowledge and with greater
maturity, Chatterton and not the Wizard of the North
would have been the great revealer of romance. If we com-
pare him with the medaevalists of his day — with Thomas
Warton, for example — we see that Warton was painstaking
while Chatterton was imaginative. Short as was his Hfe, his
position as poet-artist is secure.
William Blake (1757-1827), an "enthusiastic, hope-
fostered visionary," as he once subscribed himself, was the
1 Vol. II, pp. 38, 40, 71.
LYRIC OF THE TRANSITION S79
son of a London hosier. At the age of ten, he was placed
in a small drawing school; at fourteen he was apprenticed
to an engraver who sent the boy for his training to copy the
monuments and tombs in Westminster Abbey. Blake was,
accordingly, self-taught; his lack of formal instruction is
manifest in all his drawings — their faults of anatomy and
of perspective are apparent to the most untrained eye — but
such a nature must find its own method of expression. In
1783 he published a slender collection of verses, Poetical
Sketches; his Songs of Innocence appeared six years later,
and his Songs of Experience in 1794.^ The Sketches was
the only volume to be published in the ordinary fashion;
his other writings he printed himself from copper plates
upon which he had engraved both his poems and the designs
that weave themselves around them. As if this were not
labor enough, the printed pages he colored by hand. This
slow method of production was not a good means for bring-
ing Blake's poetry before the reading public ; his books were
practically unknown and whatever fame he acquired came
to him from the engravings he made for the writings of
others, such as his wonderful plates for Blair's Grave. Con-
temporary references to Blake speak of him as an artist and
not as a poet.
Although Blake felt that he had received a divine com-
mand to write and that he must "speak to future generations
by a sublime allegory," he was not ambitious in the accepted
sense of the word. He wrote, "I am more famed in Heaven
for my works than I could well conceive," and to deliver his
message was his one concern.^ All his life he was poor;
but for the help of friends he would have been destitute.
He was, nevertheless, an indefatigable worker, at one time
so absorbed in his writing and drawing that he did not leave
1 J. Sampson, The Poetical Works of William Blake, Oxford, 1905.
2 A. G. B. Russell, The Letters of William Blake, London, 1906, p.
76.
S80 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
his house for two years. He stated that in addition to all
his printed work he had composed six or seven epics as long
as Homer and twenty tragedies as long as Macbeth. After
Blake's death, his injudicious friend Tatham destroyed some
hundred volumes of unpublished manuscripts. Despite his
undaunted energy and his creative power, he never would
have accomplished all this single-handed. His wife, the
daughter of a market gardener, a girl who could neither
read nor write when he married her, learned to aid him in
preparing his books and to color them in a manner that
rivalled Blake's own work. She believed in her husband's
mission; to quote Tatham's grandiloquent period, she was
"the buttress of his hopes, the stay to his thoughts, the
admirer of his genius, the companion of his solitude and the
solace of his days."^
Blake lived in his imagination. "To me this world is
all one continued vision of fancy or imagination," he
wrote, and throughout his life visions appeared to him.^
He conversed hourly and daily with his dead brother, he
wrote Hayley, and it was his spirit who taught Blake to
prepare his plates and print his books. He was "under the
direction of messengers from heaven, daily and nightly" ;
he wrote his Milton "from immediate dictation, twelve or
sometimes twenty or thirty hnes at a time, without premedi-
tation, an'd even against my wiU."' His mind was filled with
books and pictures which he had written in eternity before
his mortal life, "and those works are the delight and study
of the archangels." Such sentences might imply mental
derangement, but those who knew Blake best saw no sign
of an unbalanced mind. After his death John Linnell wrote :
"I never in all my conversations with him could for
a moment feel there was the least justice in calling him in-
ip. 44.
2 P. 63.
3 P. 115.
LYRIC OF THE TRANSITION S8t
sane; he could always explain his parodoxes satisfactorily
when he pleased, but to many he spoke so that 'hearing they
might 710* hear.' "^ His Prophetic Books, which do not con-
cern us, are as a whole unintelligible to Blake's most devoted
readers, yet even here of many a page it may be said
" what he spake, though it lacked form a little.
Was not like madness."
Blake's genius was essentially lyrical. Reason and logic
were to him "spectrous fiends" to be destroyed ; the real man
was imagination. He wished to cast aside from poetry "the
rotten rags of Memory" and "all that is not inspiration,"
and accordingly he wrote as no other poet had written.
Much of the unequalled quality of Milton's blank verse is
due to the fact that he composed it for his ear, not for
his eye ; Blake's lyrics have a fascination because they were
written by a man who was blind to this world and who saw
in its stead a new heaven and a new earth.
This is not so apparent in his earliest volume. In the
Poetical Sketches we find that he has caught many a hint
from books, which is not surprising when we remember that
some of these songs were written when Blake was but four-
teen and that they were published when he was seventeen.
Fair Elenor and Gwin, King of Norway show that Blake
knew the ballads of the Reliques, yet he had read them in his
own fashion. To Spring and To the Evening Star have
something of CoUins's unrhymed Ode to Evening, yet they
are not copies of that poem. To the Muses, one of the most
perfect of all Blake's lyrics, has the finish, the music of
Collins's finest work. When we consider that it appeared
on the very eve of the romantic revival, it shows that Blake,
though a seer, was no prophet:
IP. 239.
ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" Whether on Ida's shady brow,
Or in the chambers of the East,
The chambers of the sun, that now
From ancient melody have ceased;
" How have you left the ancient love
That bards of old enjoyed in you!
The languid strings do scarcely move !
The sound is forced, the notes are few !"^
His two songs, "My silks and fine array" and "Memory,
hither come," are Elizabethan in expression and feeling, yet
here we have some characteristic lines :
" I'll pour upon the stream
Where sighing lovers dream.
And fish for fancies as they pass
Within the watery glass."^
It is in the song "Love and harmony combine" that we see
most plainly Blake's spirit :
" Love and harmony combine.
And around our souls entwine
While thy branches mix with mine.
And our roots together join.
" Joys upon our branches sit.
Chirping loud and swinging sweet;
Like gentle streams beneath our feet
Innocence and virtue meet."'
The Songs of Innocence are pure Blake. He had, says
Linnell, "the simplicity and gentleness of a child," and one
ij. Sampson, The Lyrical Poems of William Blake, Oxford, 1906,
p. 19.
2 P. 15.
3 P. 13.
LYRIC OF THE TRANSITION 383
may add, the tenderness. Love for the unfortunate and
weak was a cardinal article in his faith :
" A horse misused upon the road
Calls to Heaven for human blood.
Each outcry of the hunted hare
A fibre from the brain does tear.
He who shall hurt the little wren
Shall never be beloved by men.
Kill not the moth nor butterfly.
For the last judgment draweth nigh."^
With such a nature, he is not the poet, understanding the
child's point of view, he is the child itself speaking with a
directness of spiritual apprehension that shames our reason
and touches our hearts. The poem that begins "Little
Lamb, who made thee" is an excellent example of this.
Stevenson writes with equal simplicity of the simple hap-
penings in a child's life; Blake's poems are deeper and lay
hold on eternity, for he saw beyond the visible :
" For a double vision my eyes do see.
And a double vision is always with me.
With my inward eye, 'tis an old man grey,
With my outward, a thistle across my way."^
All these qualities combine to give to his poems a touch of
strangeness and wonder that seems alien to their simple
forms and monosyllabic diction. Even in his Songs of Expe-
rience, where his spirit is troubled, he keeps this mood of
wonder. In "Tiger ! Tiger ! burning bright" we have the
most perfect example of this. After asking what hammer
and what anvil could frame its fearful symmetry, he writes :
1 P. 138. Several lines are transposed.
2 P. 153.
38^ ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" When the stars threw down their spears.
And watered heaven with their tears.
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?"'
The effect of the last line, with its naive astonishment, one
never forgets. His slumber songs, among the most tender
and beautiful in the language, are not without their pathos
when we remember that Blake was childless — they were
written for his dream children.
We find in the Songs of Experience his deepest lyric note.
London is an outcry against the wrongs of modern society,
but rarely does he look at his age in this fashion. He protests
against the cruelty and falsehood in our natures. It is a mark
of his pecuhar genius that his shortest poems, eight lines, can
start such far-reaching thoughts and emotions. The Sick
Rose, Infant Sorrow, "I told my love," have a significance
in their direct yet subtle appeal which the grotesque and
grim creatures that stalk through the prophetic books have
never gained. Blake took pleasure in the fact that children
had delighted in his drawings ; the simplest reader may catch
the meaning of his best work. Had these lyrics been widely
read, Blake might have claimed the honor of restoring to
English song its imaginative and spiritual heritage.
It is instructive to compare these poems with the lyrics
of the neo-Celtic writers who claim Blake as one of their
band. These modern poets have no such definite vision, for
they live in the shadows and twilight. They lack his firm
technique ; their verses waver and falter where his lyrics,
like arrows, fly swift to the mark. Their pale women find
no place in his songs, for he writes not of love but as a French
critic has phrased it, of a love for humanity.^ Their note is
full of pathos, but he sings of action and hope. Both the
moderns and Blake lose themselves at times in the clouds,
1 P. 58.
2 P. Berger, William Blake: Mysticisme et PoMe, Paris, 1906.
LYRIC OF THE TRANSITION 386
but our younger poets see the clouds from which the light
is fading; Blake, the clouds that are flushed with the dawn.
Though we have confined our study to the English lyric,
it would be pedantry to pass bj' Robert Burns (1759-1796) ;
to say nothing of his genius, his efi'ect on Wordsworth alone
would justify his inclusion in a volume which does not con-
sider Scottish verse. He stahds at the end of a long line of
Scottish singers ; he gathers up in his writings all the domi-
nant characteristics of the vernacular school ; he inherits his
vocabulary — racy and vivid — ^his metres, and his very sub-
jects. Accordingly we can not fully appreciate Burns until
we perceive what he took from his predecessors and how he
transformed what he took, precisely as it is impossible to
understand Shakespeare's art without a knowledge of his
contemporaries and of what he learned from them.
Scottish vernacular literature is remarkable for its
patriotism, its humor and its realism.^ We have not found
in the English lyric that outspoken expression of nationality,
that pride in birth and tradition that has always marked
the Scottish writers. When our English lyrists turned
eagerly to foreign models, Scottish poets found their inspira-
tion more often at home, and such an exception as Drummond
of Hawthornden who pillaged French and Italian poetry in
no way disproves this. The very years when Chaucer, with
all his English spirit, was utilizing French fabliaux or
Boccaccio's Griselda, John Barbour was writing his Bruce,
the story of Scotland's hero, and writing it with such feeling
that centuries after it stirred the imagination of Walter
Scott and had its share in determining his career. Given
Burns's familiarity with the vernacular poetry and given
his imitative spirit, it was almost predestined that "Scots
1 See T. F. Henderson, Scottish Vernacular Literature, London, 1900.
S86 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
wha hae wi' Wallace bled," or some lyric as ardent in its
patriotism should come from his lips.
We have seen but little humor in the English lyric. The
gaiety of Suckhng, the wit of Prior, the pleasantry of
Cowper are far removed from the rollicking spirit of the
songs that pleased the
" hairum-scairum, ram-stam boys.
The rattling squad."
The humor of Scottish poetry is that of the country wedding,
the village fair, the rustic dance, the tavern song; a humor
that is always vigorous, often coarse because it is close to
the soil. It is the literature of high spirits seeking outlet;
it is always hearty and spontaneous and if at times it is
pushed too far, yet it is saner than much that has passed
for humor in the writings of some poets we have considered.
This patriotism and humor is expressed in a thoroughly
realistic manner ; there is little idealizing — though to every
lover a mistress is all beauty — and there is small searching
for fine phrases or rare similes in this poetry. The men
and women of these songs are the peasants at the plow, and
the lasses in the fields, "yonder girl that fords the bum."
These poets who sing "the loves, the ways of simple swains,"
strive to show life as they see it and feel it ; they employ a
realistic method that reminds one of the pictures of Terbourg
or Teniers, except that the Dutch painters give us the
interiors of homes and taverns while the Scottish lyrists show
us their men and women in the com rigs or under the stars.
When Zola mistakenly argued that the Latin races had
introduced realism into literature, he forgot, among other
matters, Scottish poetry.
It is to our poet's honor that he did not seek to depart
from the traditions of the vernacular. From boyhood he
had been an eager reader of verse and it was impossible that
he should always avoid what he considered the grand manner.
LYRIC OF THE TRANSITION 387
We have many traces of cold and lifeless imitation, many
lapses into false diction ("wild poetic rage," he called it)
He even wrote a poor sonnet and a Pindaric ode, yet this
is a small part of his work and his own good sense and his
Scottish audience saved him from becoming a feeble follower
of poets with whom he had little in common. Henley has
shown that Burns often needed a suggestion, a line or a
phrase, to begin his song and he found these hints not in
"Thomson's Landscape glow" or "Shenstone's art," but in
the verses of many forgotten Scottish singers. "O my Luve's
like a red, red rose" is a good example of this. Cinthio's
story of a brutal murder caught Shakespeare's eye and, re-
fashioned so that its own author would not know it, a clumsily
told tale becomes Othello. Bums makes a flawless lyric out
of these rude verses :
" Her cheeks are like the roses
That blossom fresh in June,
O, she's like a new-strung instrument
That's newly put in tune."
" The seas they shall run dry.
And rocks melt into sands;
Then I'll love you still, my dear.
When all those things are done."
" Fare you well, my own true love.
And fare you well for a while.
And I will be sure to return back again.
If I go ten thousand mile.""^
Each of these three stanzas represents a diflFerent song;
the poet's instinct told him what to leave and what to change
for all through his lyrics he showed a remarkable intuition
1 W. E. Henley and T. F. Henderson, The Poetry of Robert Burns,
Edinburgh, 1896, vol. Ill, p. 402. Cf. Henley's splendid essay, vol. IV,
pp. 332-332.
ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
for the best. Thus in his work lives on the finest emotion,
the inspired phrase of many a rustic singer, and his songs
move us because we hear in them not only Bums but other
poets who have hoped and sorrowed. These country songs,
these Jacobite relics, were common property ; Ramsay knew
them and collected many, but it was Burns who saw in them
his opportunity, as every artist sees in the trivial and
commonplace the material for his greatest work.
It must not be presumed that Bums was content merely to
refine the work of others. What he learned from Scottish
song is incalculable — he was no Chatterton or Blake, creating
his own world — yet a man of his force and fearlessness has
always his own message. The most impressive quality in his
songs is the energy, the life that infuses them. Too many of
our lyrists have written to please a patron or a mistress ;
Burns wrote to please himself. If there had been no printing
press, he still would have rhymed "for fun," to use his own
phrase; had there been no peasants, no Edinburgh society
to applaud him, he still would have taught
" the lanely heights an' howes
My rustic sang."
Burns knew precisely what he wished to accompHsh : ,
" Gie me ae spark o' Nature's fire,
That's a' the learning I desire;
Then, tho' I drudge thro' dub an' mire
At pleugh or cart.
My Muse, the' hamely in attire.
May touch the heart."^
He threw himself into life ; even in his conversation, said one
who knew him, he carried everything before him. His one
aim was to express not fancies, or sentiments, or dreams, but
the emotions of a full-blooded man. It was this faculty of
^Epistle to J. Lapraik, Henley and Henderson, Burns, vol. I, p. 158.
LYRIC OF THE TRANSITION
gaining from the very moment all that it has to offer, this
concentration of feeling, that gives his poems their power.
If we contrast his To a Daisy or To a Fieldmouse with
Vaughan's lines to a flower or to the bird blown in his window
we see how much closer Burns is to hfe, though Vaughan was
a nature lover. This intensity of feeling was aided by the
fact that Burns did not write for the eye but for the ear;
his songs were really sung and the old melodies to which he
composed them lent some of their feeling to his words.
To English readers, the Scottish dialect is as poetic as
Milton's latinized diction, but his vocabulary was the simple
one of the Scotch peasant. He shared with Villon the gift
of drawing his pictures firmly and sharply; we have had
many personifications that leave no image on the memory,
but in a phrase, Burns outdoes a whole Pindaric ode:
" See, crazy, weary, joyless Eild,
Wi' wrinkled face,
Comes hostin, hirplin owre the field,
Wi' creepin pace.""^
What a vivid picture of old age. In his nature descriptions,
we have whole landscapes in a pair of verses. It is interesting
to see him meet Shakespeare on his own ground and equal
in his stanza on the lark, the exquisite picture in the song
from Cymbelme.
To express, then, the deepest feelings in the simplest
manner was Burns's gift. There are many aspects of
thought and emotion which he did not consider. If we accept
Shelley's simile of Hfe — a dome of many colored glass stain-
ing the radiance of eternity- — the richer and subtler colors
were not for Bums. "Ae fond kiss" or "Of a' the airts" are
as clear as the sunlight itself and beside such frank expres-
sion much of our modern song seems fantastically over-
1 Vol. I, p. 63, Epistle to James Smith.
S90 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
wrought and curiously subtle. Not to Wordsworth alone has
Bums revealed that
" Verse may build a princely throne
On humble truth."'^
VI
The death of Burns brings us within two years of the
publication of the Lyrical Ballads; yet before we come to
that epoch-making work, we must consider one more pre-
cursor of the romantic movement. WilKam Lisle Bowles
(1762-1850), a graduate of Oxford, a canon of Salisbury,
wrote, among other poems, thirty sonnets. Many of them
are descriptions of places which he visited in a vain attempt
to forget the death of his betrothed. They are accordingly
filled with a grief which, as his nature was a mild one,
diffuses itself in a plaintive melancholy, not unlike the
mood of the Miltonic group. At times Bowles shows their
influence and takes many a phrase from Milton himself.
We see the ocean stiUed at evening, gray battlements, for-
saken towers ; we wander beside sequestered streams musing
on happier days ; we hear the mournful sound of bells across
the water. The descriptions are graceful, the thought is
simply expressed, and if beside the elegiac verses of Shelley
and Byron (who detested Bowles and dubbed him the "Maud-
lin Prince of mournful sonneteers") the emotional force
appears weak, it is never insincere and we know that he
weeps "for her who in the cold grave lies." The sonnet
beginning "0 Time! who know'st a lenient hand to lay,"
sums up all his qualities.
The influence of Bowles on Coleridge and Wordsworth was
a marked one.^ Coleridge, in his enthusiasm, made forty
lAt the Grave of Burns.
2 See T. E. Casson, Bowles, in Eighteenth Century Literature, Oxford,
1909.
LYRIC OF THE TRANSITION S91
copies of twenty of the sonnets and presented them to his
friends ; amid other eulogies he has called Bowles "the most
tender, and with the exception of Burns, the only always
natural poet in our language." The story of Wordsworth
reading the sonnets through on Westminster Bridge, forget-
ful of the noise of the passers, is a weU-known one and there
are many descriptions in them that plainly attracted him :
" As one who, long by wasting sickness worn,
Weary has watched the lingering night, and heard
Heartless the carol of the matin bird
Salute his lonely porch, now first at morn
Goes forth, leaving his melancholy bed;
He the green slope and level meadow views.
Delightful bathed with slow-ascending dews;
Or marks the clouds, that o'er the mountain's head
In varying forms fantastic wander white."'
To express one's grief unaffectedly, to find in nature not
only beauty but consolation, these were the chief tenets of
this poet's creed. Like many a pathfinder, he is now for-
gotten, yet with others considered in this chapter, he led the
way for the newer and greater race of singers.
IW. L. Bowles, Sonnets and other Poems, seventh edition, London,
1800, p. 35.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The Lyric of the Nineteenth Century
PART ONE
The Lyrical Ballads appeared in 1798, making that year
forever memorable in literary history. To this volume Cole-
ridge (1772-1834i) contributed the Ancient Mariner and
three other pieces ; of the remaining nineteen poems by
Wordsworth (1770-1850), Tintern Abbey, the last one in
the book, is at once the most significant and the most beauti-
ful. As Wordsworth's share, then, in this first fruit of the
modern Renaissance was the greater, we shall consider him
before Coleridge.
Although Wordsworth's productivity covered a long
period of years, the distinctive qualities of his work are all
to be found in the Ballads. We see at once his preference
for a simple and unadorned diction ; his insistence upon the
significance and the grandeur of the most elementary feel-
ings ; his passion for the beauty of nature and his realization
of its power over man's mind and soul. Though his spirit
is here, the book does not show his technique at its best; it
contains neither ode nor sonnet and this omission of the
formal lyric is significant. The genius of Wordsworth was
not lyrical; he has not left us a single song, for though
lyrical feeling surges through his verse, the gift of Burns
was denied to him.
This seems remarkable, for not only was Wordsworth of
a deeply emotional nature, but he gave his emotions free
play ; his finest poems are suff^used with a feeling so poignant
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC 393
that they subdue us instantly to the poet's mood. He was
ever given to splendid enthusiasm. As a young graduate
from Cambridge, studying in France at the outbreak of the
Revolution, he determined to place himself at the head of
the Girondist party; his life was saved because his friends
in alarm summoned him back to England. Such an episode
seems to come from the biography of Shelley. Assured that
he had a message for the world, he abandoned everything to
study it and to tell it. Living frugally, far from the busy
hum of men, like Blake he knew what it meant to scorn
delights and live laborious days ; surely no one had ever a
better right to extol plain living and high thinking. He
was a deeper mystic than Blake, for the poet-artist often
felt himself but the instrument of the spirit world and his
vision passed beyond poetic representation; Wordsworth
never lost the power of telUng what he saw and felt so that
all might understand the purport if not the depth of his
meaning. From such a nature, emotional, idealistic, we
expect a veritable flood of song. We have said that this
Renaissance of poetry was distinguished by a renewal of the
lyric and in considering Wordsworth's verse, we must seek
to ascertain why it lacked the song quality.
One reason for this is that he had a well-considered, and
for his day, a revolutionary theory of poetry to expound;
if he was not a teacher, he said, then he was nothing. Now
the didactic spirit is inimical to song. The Psalms, the
grandest collection of lyrics in ancient literature, certainly
are at times didactic ; a modern writer has declared that
poets learn in suffering what they teach in song. However,
the first concern of Psalmist and modern lyrist alike is the
expression of emotion and we read into their songs the lesson.
With Wordsworth the message too often was first in his
mind, and while this may or may not lower the emotional
tone, it disturbs and even destroys song. We see a good
illustration of this in one of his best-known poems :
3H ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" My heart leaps up when I behold
A rainbow in the sky:
So was it when my life began;
So is it now I am a man ;
So be it when I shall grow old,
Or let me die !"
Here is a pure lyric ; the lines sing themselves, but when we
come to the three concluding verses that give the significance
to the emotion, the thought is expressed in such a manner
that the song quality instantly vanishes:
" The child is father of the man;
And I could wish my days to be
Bound each to each by natural piety."
Another poem, equally familiar, has a lyric opening:
" I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,"
but it has too much description, the style is too compact for
a song. It forms a deUghtful contrast with Herrick's
To Daffodils, which is more delicate and more artful in its ■
lament for fading beauty. Reading these poems side by
side we see how much more significant even a flower has
become to the modern poet.
If Wordsworth's desire to comment upon his emotions and
to explain his thoughts restrains him from song, equally so
does his fundamental conception of poetry, which is, he
informs us, "emotion recollected in tranquillity." The song
springs at once from the occasion ; but this burst of feeling
Wordsworth would restrain to ponder and reflect upon. If it
be not sacrilege to enlarge upon his definition, his poetry at
least is not only emotion recollected in tranquillity but it
produces tranquil feelings and calm thoughts — and this is
not the lyric mood, though all lyrics do not spring from
storm and stress. Unlike his Highland reaper, Wordsworth
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC 395
does not sing of old, unhappy, far-oflF things, but of the
peace of nature and her restoring power. Song finds such
a theme too vast for it.
Love is the most common of lyric themes ; there is remark-
ably little love poetry in his many poems. Of all his sonnets,
"AVhy art thou silent" is the only one that approaches the
mood of the Elizabethans, and this was written, he said,
without the least reference to any individual and merely to
show that he could write "in a strain poets have been fond
of." The Lucy poems, however, contain one memorable
lyric, a dirge that expresses in eight lines the utter desolation
wrought by death. "A slumber did my spirit steal" goes as
deep as the plummet of grief ever sounded, for the poet
realizes that what he once loved is now a dull clod, no better
than the stone or tree. The anguish of despair does not
burst forth as it does in the elegies of Byron or Shelley, for
in the very whirlwind of Wordsworth's passion there is
always a temperance that gives it smoothness. We must
never be deceived by his calmer manner.
The love that Wordsworth sang was not for woman but
for one who never betrayed the heart that loved her.
Nature was more beautiful to him than she had been to any
of his predecessors because he knew her better. He found
her "so lovely that the heart can not sustain her beauty" ;
he felt love stealing "from earth to man, from man to earth,"
and more than any other writer, he changed the whole atti-
tude of his race towards the outer world. He has here a
subject for verse that never grows old. Many of the emo-
tions that have moved our lyric poets seem remote to us, or
at least the manner in which they were expressed has ren-
dered them so. Not only has Wordsworth found in the
beauty and in the sustaining power of nature an enduring
theme, but he has expressed it in a language and style of
almost Biblical simplicity. Nature seems to take the pen
from his hand, Arnold said, but the verse he selects to show
ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
this loses its force apart from its context. Far better
examples are such lines as :
or
" Thy soul was like a star, and dwelt apart:"
" The sea that bares her bosom to the moon;"
or
" The winds come to me from the fields of sleep,"
where every word but one is monosyllabic and where nature
gives the inspiration. Taine has said that to understand
Wordsworth one must empty his head of all earthly matters ;
on the contrary, one must come very close to the earth to
see the power and truthfulness of his writing compared with
which much of our modern verse seems affected, if not posi-
tively insincere.
It is by virtue of his sonnets and odes that Wordsworth
is numbered among our lyric poets. It must frankly be
confessed that the great majority of his sonnets are unread-
able, for they are dull. Self-centered, destitute of humor
(which implies a lack of self-criticism) Wordsworth could
not separate the wheat from the chaff in his poetic garner;
still, if we select the very best of the sonnets, they form the
finest series in the language. They have nothing of Shakes-
peare's grace or of his idealization of human loveHness;
they never approach the tone of Milton's scorching anger
or the dignity of his pathos ; their music has never the
"weight and volume of sound" that distinguishes Rossetti's
sonnets ; yet this is merely saying that Wordsworth is not
many sonneteers, but one. The range of the sonnets is
remarkable. Our modem poets believe that they have dis-
covered the city, but they have never equalled the sonnet
composed upon Westminster Bridge; they sing of crowded
streets, of poverty and shame, while Wordsworth finds in the
sleeping London the peace that broods on his mountains.
For political sonnets, we have the ones on Venice, on Switzer-
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC 397
land, and the six written in London in 1802, filled with a
patriotism that is not blind, and a stern criticism that is
inspiring. For description of nature there are many
masterpieces, such as "It is a beauteous evening," or the
lines on the Trossachs ; for pure music, "A flock of sheep
that leisurely pass by," which rivals in its imagery and in
its soft melody the famous picture of the cave of Sleep in
the Faerie Queene; for feeling, expressing his dominant idea,
"The world is too much with us." All these sonnets are
broad in their spirit; they have the health and strength
of the ocean breezes. Despite the beauty of individual lines,
they owe their distinction to their content rather than to
their form ; many sonnets have been more cunningly wrought,
but none have surpassed them in nobility of feeling.
Two of Wordsworth's odes rank among his highest
achievements. The Ode to Duty is modelled on Gray's Hymn
to Adversity, but the similarity of form is the only resem-
blance. Wordsworth's poem contains no allegorical figures,
no descriptive touches, but relies entirely upon the elevation
of its thought expressed with a restraint that befits the
subject:
" Thou dost preserve the stars from wrong ;
And the most ancient heavens, through Thee, are fresh and
strong."
It is fortunate that the Ode on the Intimations of Immor-
tality, the justification of the whole pseudo-Pindaric school,
is so familiar that it needs little comment. Wordsworth has
written odes as uninspired as Cowley's; a mere glance at
"Hail, orient Conqueror of gloomy night," or at the Ode on
the Power of Sound will show it. Here, with a subject that
thrilled him, he became what he wished to be, the prophet,
the bard. The ode has not the richness of Spenser's verse,
nor has its music the cumulative effect of Lycidas, in which
there are ever-advancing waves of melody ; in at least one
ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
stanza, as Professor Saintsbury points out, the metre is
thoroughly inadequate, but we forget this in the eifect of
the poem as a whole. Again and again the feeling and
thought concentrate in verse so simple and yet so poignant,
that we may call this the greatest ode in the language. If
such praise seems uncritical, what is to be placed above this
poem?
Coleridge (1772-1834), poet, philosopher, and critic,
turned to prose from verse in which he had shown a genius
unmatched and even unapproached. No poet before or after
him has written with such imagination and thought so
vitally united. At times his criticism appears positively in-
spired, yet other writers might have brought as keen an
insight to the study of Shakespeare or have analyzed with
equal clearness the qualities of Wordsworth's style ; we feel
in reading Christabel or Dejection that we are listening to
a voice whose melodies none can repeat. When a great poet
abandons his art, nothing can compensate for the loss.
An act of Faust outweighs all the pages of Wilhelm Meister.
Coleridge has three distinct lyric moods ; we see them in
The Ancient Mariner, Kubla Khan, and the Odes. The
Ancient Mariner, the first poem in the Lyrical Ballads, is as
much a lyric as a tale. We did not discuss the early ballads
because they were little epics ; the ballad makers described
the deeds of men and women in an impersonal manner, with
little censure or praise. An old woman, sheltered for seven
years by the outlaw, William of Cloudesly, rises up from
his hearth to sell his life for a scarlet gown ; the ballad maker
neither comments upon her villainy nor laments the ingrati-
tude of mankind. Often the ballad singers stand far off
from the world they depict :
" O lang, lang may their ladies sit,
Wi' their fans into their hand,
Or eir they see Sir Patrick Spans
Cum sailing to the land !"
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC
In the Ancient Mariner, the mystery and wonder of the story
has one purpose ; to thrill us with the sufferings of a man
" Alone, alone, all, all alone.
Alone on a wide, wide sea !"
Amid aU the horrors of that strange voyage, we never forget
him, for he it is and not the poet who speaks to us, and again
and again the narrative pauses and we hear his song of
agony. We must compare with this poem the ballad of
Thomas the Rhymer if we would understand the intensity
of the modern imagination and feeling ; how far removed are
the ferlies he sees from the fearful sights which but recounted
stun the wedding guest ! The art of the verse, apparently
so simply written, the effect of the repetitions, the sudden
climaxes, show a complete mastery of technique ; no one had
ever suspected that such possibilities lay concealed in this
measure. What is perhaps the most difficult feat of all,
Coleridge has perfectly accomplished. He has brought the
terror and shudder of romance to a story told as though it
were an adventure in the Spanish main; that is, the tale
never fades away into the shadows though the mystery is
always before us. It is as though a spirit passed before us
taking the form of man, and yet we knew it to be a ghostly
visitant. GUpin Horner, the goblin page of the Lay of the
Last Minstrel, has nothing of the other world about him ; this
is a dream that has all the sharp outline of reality, and yet
we know it is a dream.
Kubla Khan is the finest example in our literature of what
Herrick has called the magic incantation of verse. The
scenery in the Lotos-Eaters is carefully designed; in this
poem the "sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice" rises like an
exhalation at the sound of the music that is in every word.
It is not enough to say that the poem is pure melody, for
from its modulations comes a more definite mood than our
modem poets of the Celtic twilight can evoke with all their
400 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
tone pictures. The quiet opening; the more rapid move-
ment of the lines in which is depicted the mighty fountain
bursting from the earth; the mystery of the far-ofF voices
prophesying war ; the vision of the Abyssinian maid ; the
burst of ecstasy with which the poem closes, show Coleridge
more the magician here than in the Ancient Mariner. How
few poems there are that leave us in this mood of wonder,
thrilled with the rapture of a vision which leaves the imagi-
nation untouched with sadness. In Shelley's poems we have
an ecstasy of feeling but inevitably accompanied with
despondency and even despair.
Before we come to the Odes, two short lyrics deserve con-
sideration. The song from Zapolya,
" A sunny shaft did I behold.
From sky to earth it slanted:
And poised therein a bird so bold — •
Sweet bird, thou wert enchanted !"
is musical and full of color ; his lament, Work without Hope,
whose fourteen lines another poet would have cast in the
sonnet form, is more impressive than the passionately
expressed laments of our later romanticists. They express
some mood or sorrow of the moment ; here we have the realiza-
tion of the futility of a man's whole life :
" With lips unbrightened, wreathless brow, I stroll:
And would you learn the spells that drowse my soul .''
Work without Hope draws nectar in a sieve.
And Hope without an object cannot live."
Of the three Odes, the two pohtical ones, On the Depart-
ing Year and To France, must yield to Dejection. The first
two, romantic in feeling, have something of the eighteenth
century classic style about them ; their personifications —
Avarice, Destruction, Ambition — are masks rather than the
figurative embodiment of the poet's thought. The Ode to
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC 4OI
France is the finer one, for its opening strophe is one of
Coleridge's best achievements. The spirit of these lines is
as emotional as Shelley's, yet where his music comes with a
burst, here the "dark inwoven harmonies" strike the ear
more gradually. We have spoken of the rhetoric which dis-
figures Pindaric odes as a class; here is an apostrophe to
nature in which every line rings with sincerity. There is no
better way of distinguishing in any ode feigned emotion
from the genuine expression of deeply wrought feeling than
reading aloud this stanza and then turning to Cowley's
Pindarics.
The Ode to Dejection deals not with the tragedy of the
French Revolution, but with the tragedy in the poet's mind,
and though he writes but of himself, this poem seems broader
in spirit than his others. The thought, we may even say
the philosophy, of the ode has neither repressed the feeling
nor the poet's delight in picturing the clouds and the moon
in lines which rival the observation and the beauty of phrase
of Wordsworth at his best:
" All this long eve, so balmy and serene,
Have I been gazing on the western sky.
And its peculiar tint of yellow green :
And still I gaze — and with how blank an eye !
And those thin clouds above, in flakes and bars.
That give away their motion to the stars;
Those stars, that glide behind them or between.
Now sparkling, now bedimmed, but always seen:
Yon crescent moon, as fixed as if it grew
In its own cloudless, starless lake of blue ;
I see them all so excellently fair,
I see, not feel, how beautiful they are !"
This is the rare quality of Coleridge's poetry : the purely
intellectual element in his verse is fused naturally with his
most emotional and sensuous writing. If we compare this
m ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
ode with Shelley's expression of dejection, we shall see that
Coleridge analyzes his mood, he "looks before and after,"
while Shelley, with all his richness of imagery, but tries to
explain his feeling at one given moment of time. In Words-
worth's thought the conclusion of the whole matter seems
not sought out but intuitively perceived, directly appre-
hended ; in Coleridge's poems, we see the mind at work, and
it is the mind of a mystic and thinker, a dreamer and an
observer.
II
Lord Byron (1788-1824), the greatest personal force in
English letters since Dean Swift, has left many lyrics of
self-revelation, the most frank and intimate poems that had
hitherto seen the light, for they disclosed moods that are
not often shown the world. In them we find him from very
boyhood shy, sensitive, deeply emotional, longing for appre-
ciation and sympathy. Without glossing over in his career
much that was unworthy, much that was wrong, it may at
least be said that many of his misfortunes came from Fate
rather than from his own acts. His unhappy love for Mary
Chaworth (she married when Byron was but seventeen!) em-
bittered his whole hfe, as The Dream and many other poems,
unmistakable in their sincerity, attest. He was unhappy in
a proud and violent mother who treated him with alternate
affection and cruelty ; in a wife who so little understood him
that she actually inquired when he would give up his bad
habit of writing verses. He proclaimed with bravado his
contempt for society, yet he desired homage ; he wrote that
he would willingly forget man, yet he longed for fame. His
last weeks in Greece were filled with discouragements and
disillusionment as he saw the petty jealousies and the mer-
cenary aims of the race for which he had such hopes. Even
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC ^03
a soldier's death, which he sought, was denied to him. As
Byron is the least impersonal of poets, his life is pictured with
such fidelity in his verse (for we can brush aside the rhetoric)
that in reading the lyrics there is a temptation to regard
them not as works of art but as psychological documents,
as though they were so many letters in a novel written by a
greater Richardson, laying bare the mind and heart of a
genius.
There is another aspect of these lyrics that holds our
attention; there is a certain evolution of thought and emo-
tion that culminates in Byron. The pensive elegies of the
Miltonic school; the sentimentalism of Sterne's Tristram
Shandy; the carefully calculated sorrows and even agonies
of Richardson's Clarissa Harlowe, are signs of what we may
call the revival of pity. Rousseau, sinister influence, in his
Nouvelle Heloise shows the deepening of this emotion and its
transformation into uncontrolled passion; Goethe, in his
WertJier, shows pity transformed to bitterness and despair.
Then came the French Revolution and its failure. France
with its Bourbon king, England with Castlereagh, settled
back in the old established ways ; in the reaction, high hopes
were lost, ideals of a regenerated society were shattered, and
free thought was crushed by the orthodoxy of church and
state. Pity changed to anger; the love of humanity to a
contempt for society; enthusiasm to scorn. Carlyle has
defined Weltschmerz as passion incapable of action, and this
feeling of disappointment, of frustrated hopes, this Welt-
schmerz, Byron expressed as did no other poet. If there is
danger of treating his lyrics as personal biography, there is
equal danger of regarding them as social documents, of see-
ing in them the spirit of the age. Burns was in revolt
against the authority of the church in a country parish;
Byron was a revolutionist to whom Europe listened, and
stiU on the Continent he is regarded as the greatest of modem
English poets.
m ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
Remembering then Byron's life and the temper of the
times, we read his lyrics and find in them two moods. The
first is his expression of the tcedium vita; we see writ large
his unhappiness, his discontent with life :
" Count o'er the joys thine hours have seen.
Count o'er thy days from anguish free,
And know, whatever thou hast been,
'Tis something better not to be."'^
We hear the voice of Hamlet :
" It is that weariness which springs
From all I meet, or hear, or see:
To me no pleasure Beauty brings.
Thine eyes have scarce a charm for me."^
Insisting upon his own wretchedness, there is a tendency to
drop from the tragic to the purely melodramatic, as in the
close of his Epistle to a Friend, where he foretells that he may
become one
" whom love nor pity sways.
Nor hope of fame, nor good men's praise;
One, who in stern ambition's pride.
Perchance not blood shall turn aside;
One ranked in some recording page
With the worst anarchs of the age."'
It is easy to see that this is mere rhetoric, written to convince
the reader and not to express an emotion the poet is unable
to restrain. But this mood of sadness is again and again
expressed with sincerity as in his Stanzas to Augusta, or in
his song, "There's not a joy the world can give." No lyric
1 The Poetical Works of Lord Byron, Oxford, 1909, p. 63, Euthanasia.
2 P. 188.
3 P. 61.
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC ^05
rings truer than his very last one, written on his thirty-sixth
birthday, in which he tells us
" My days are in the yellow leaf ;
The flowers and fruits of love are gone;
The worm, the canker, and the grief
Are mine alone !"^
It is hardly necessary to point out that Byron's mood is
not ours, even in moments of discouragement ; our depression
comes not because the world is barren but because it offers
so much that we can not grasp it. We do not wish for "the
dreamless sleep that lulls the dead," for we would prolong
our lives forever; we mourn not the length of the weary day
but that the very years are all too short and fly too quickly.
In our darkest moments we cry, with Milton's Belial:
" For who would lose.
Though full of pain, this intellectual being.
Those thoughts that wander through eternity."
We are most in sympathy with Byron's despairing mood
when he writes of death. His elegies on Thyrza, "One
struggle more, and I am free," or the finer "And thou art
dead, as young and fair," have the inward touch that makes
the eighteenth century poems of the grave, with their grief
for the world at large, with their moralizing, seem but faint
echoes of sorrow.
The other mood of Byron is the quieter one in which he
sings of beauty. Knowing the magnificent descriptive pas-
sages of Childe Harold and Don Juan, we are surprised that
this mood does not enter more into his lyrics. They are
indeed singularly unadorned with picturesque phrases, with
those touches that call before us the beauty of art or nature.
Two songs, however, beautiful both in their descriptions and
in their music, represent this side of his work. "She walks in
1 On this Day I complete my Thirty-sixth Year, p. 110.
iOe ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
beauty like the night" anticipates the art and melody of
Tennyson; "There be none of Beauty's daughters" has a
rarer music and, from the aesthetic standpoint, is his best
lyric.
The interest, then, in Byron's lyrics lies in their direct
expression of feeling, not in their thought or in their
technique. The great object in life, said Byron, is sensa-
tion, and this at once expresses the attraction and the defect
of his work. There is no emotion recollected in tranquillity
here ; he writes on the spot and a great deal of his work is
pure and simple improvisation. The sister art which Byron
most admired was music ; even when in Italy he showed him-
self singularly insensible to sculpture and painting, and yet
he wrote so rapidly that he was often careless of the melody
of his verse. He had, says Swinburne, "a feeble and faulty
sense of metre ; no poet of equal or inferior rank ever had so
bad an ear. His smoother cadences are often vulgar and
facile ; his fresher notes are often incomplete and inharmo-
nious." William Morris observes that he had no original
measures. At least we may urge that Byron shows an
advance over Wordsworth in rhymed measure; he has a
fairly wide range from the anapests of "The Assyrian came
down like the wolf on the fold," to the restraint, unusual for
him, of "When we two parted." Many of his Spenserian
stanzas do indeed falter ; his odes on Waterloo and on
Napoleon have neither the breadth of expression nor the
orchestral music the genre demands, yet to deny to Byron
the gift of melody is to read him with deaf ears.
In our opening chapter we stated that in purely descrip-
tive poems we come upon lyrical passages, and this is espe-
cially true of Byron's work. How much of Childe Harold
and even Don Juan is lyrical. In reading the famous
apostrophe to the ocean ; the lines on solitude ; the verses on
Time, the beautifier of the dead; we can understand why
Byron captivated his age. He needed a large canvas for
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC Ifil
his word pictures ; it took him some time to work up to his
cUmaxes and accordingly song pure and simple was not his
best gift. One who has read only the lyrics has not felt the
real Byron ; indeed his greatest mood of all — his mockery
and scorn — is seen at its best in Don Juan.
It seems strange that such a mighty personality could ever
become obscured, yet the vogue of Byron waned with the
coming of Tennyson and Browning. We have passed from
his spell and may, therefore, estimate him more fairly than
did his contemporaries. If we demand higher art and a more
just and hopeful attitude towards hfe, we still should feel
the power of his inspiration. An age that depreciates Byron
has become conventional and artificial.
Of all English poets, Shelley (1792-1822) is the most
lyrical. As Charlotte Bronte disclosed her emotional per-
sonaHty in her novels, so he found in song his most perfect
method of self-expression. In by far the greater number
of his poems (always excepting the Cenci, written with a
remarkable restraint and a close adherence to the story) we
feel only the subjective moods and the compelling emotions
that determined the poet's life.
The character of Shelley is not a difficult one to under-
stand, especially with the aid given us by the biographies
and letters of those who knew and appreciated him. There
were no great changes in his nature ; he was consistent to his
own ideals ; and in reading his verse we find in it, as in
Byron's poetry, two predominating moods. The first, in
which he expresses his ideals for humanity and his hopes for
the regeneration of the world, we may call his social mood;
the second is a purely personal mood of joy or sorrow, and
generally sadness prevails. The first mood enters but rarely
into his shorter lyrics — as in Ozymandias, or the concluding
song in Hellas, or the sonnet to Wordsworth — yet we must
consider it ; certainly it deepened the tone of even his briefest
songs such as "Rough wind that moanest loud."
m ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
Wordsworth, Byron and Shelley have expressed in their
lyrics their views on society. The Elizabethan and Caroline
singers were generally self-centered and wrote in the spirit
of "My mind to me a kingdom is"; the modern lyrist has a
wider vision. Byron's views are the least valuable, for they
are purely negative: the world is vanity; it is better not to
be; if you must live, seek the pathless wood and the solitary
shore to escape from your fellows; love the ocean because it
bears no trace of man. Wordsworth, on the other hand, is
constructive. He accepts the social order but he would
improve upon it ; we are too worldly ; we must live more
simply ; we are worse than pagans in our blindness to nature ;
we must let her refine and elevate us. Shelley did not accept
the position of either poet. He wished to sweep away
entirely the present social scheme — all rulers and priests, all
laws and customs — and then to build upon the wrecks of
faiths and empires a new world. He had, to use his own
words, a "passion for reforming the world" ; he would have
rejoiced in the prospect of a second deluge.
His watchword was accordingly Liberty, and he was in
perpetual revolt against every restraint. At nineteen he
is expelled from Oxford for publishing a tract, "The Neces-
sity of Atheism," his first public attack on the church. This
very year he elopes with Harriet Westbrook, a girl of six-
teen, chiefly because her father, he writes, "persecuted her
in a most horrible manner by compelling her to go to school,"
and he had urged her "to resist such stupendous and galling
tyranny." In Ireland with Harriet he distributes pamphlets
and books urging a revolt against English rule. The up-
risings in Naples and Spain call from him his two fiery odes.
In his last months at Pisa, deeply moved by the story of
Emilia Viviani, an Italian girl confined against her will in
a convent, he writes his Epipsychidion. He hears of the
Greek struggle for independence and writes Hellas. The
subject of the Cenci attracts him, partly because it is the
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC ^09
revolt against a father's tyranny and crime. Prometheus
Unbound, the most wonderful piece of sustained lyric writing
in the language, is the tale of the final emancipation of
humanity by the resistance of the human will to divine oppres-
sion. Surely he is the very apostle of Freedom.
When we search closely for Shelley's meaning of liberty
we find it to be a vague ideal. He had no well-considered
plan for either a new repubUc or a new faith; he simply
wished freedom from every restraint of government and
religion, having an imphcit faith in the power of the un-
trammeled mind and soul to create a new Paradise. Granted
that our civilization has much that is base and wrong, that
every society has its plague spots which it complacently
forgets, yet from the hard lessons of the centuries we have
won some truths that are not to be cast lightly aside. We
can not dismiss in a mood of unseeing exaltation all that it
has cost humanity to win. The very nature Shelley loved so,
the very sea of which he has written more instinctively than
any other poet, is not free. Meredith is nearer our thought
when he made Satan, viewing the stars, perceive that
" Around the ancient track marched, rank on rank,
The army of unalterable law."
Accordingly, in his longer poems his social mood, as an
American critic has well put it, is a "kind of elusive yet
rapturous emanation of hope devoid of specific content."
The Ode to Liberty, its finest expression, is to Swinburne
the greatest English ode. It has the fire and glow of imagi-
nation, the brilliant phrase, the impetuous movement that
befits it, yet does not give us, as does Wordsworth's Intima-
tions of Immortality, what Milton has finely called the "sober
certainty of waking bliss." Shelley is an enchanter rather
than a seer.
It need hardly be said that his ideal of freedom was sure
to bring despondency for it was an impossible one. The
UO ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
world did not listen to his call and if he had been untroubled
by more intimate griefs, the failure of his social theories
would have bruised if not crushed his spirit. But in his own
life he was constantly waking from his dream to the bitter-
ness of disillusionment ; no verse comes closer to his experience
than his own "I fall upon the thorns of Ufe, I bleed." Ideal-
izing women, his "Portias" become "Black Demons" ; he finds
the heroine of his Epipsychidion to be not Juno but a cloud ;
even Mary Godwin did not wholly understand him, and so
through his shorter lyrics runs the strain of dejection. His
nature was singularly pure ; he was all fire and air, and one
must distinguish between the dejection of Byron who felt
the "fullness of satiety" and the disappointment of this
idealist, for the men were at the opposite poles of experience
and emotion. And if we turn from Shelley's life to his art,
he felt the lack of appreciation and even the hostility shown
towards his poetry. "Nothing," he wrote Peacock, a year
before his death, "is more difficult and unwelcome than to
write without a confidence of finding readers," and at his
death, Stopford Brooke doubts whether fifty people in
England knew and appreciated his work. Medwin tells us
in his Life of Shelley that he read in manuscript the Ode to
Liberty, The Sensitive Plant, and many other lyrics, express-
ing admiration for them. "He was surprised at my enthu-
siasm, and said to me — 'I am disgusted with writing, and
were it not for an irresistible impulse that predominates my
better reason, should discontinue so doing.' On such occa-
sions he fell into a despondent mood, most distressing to
witness, was affected with a prostration of spirits that bent
him to the earth, a melancholy too sacred to notice, and
which it would have been a vain attempt to dissipate."
By far the greater number of his lyrics express this sad-
ness:
" Rarely^ rarely comest thou,
Spirit of delight.''
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC ^11
"How am I changed! my hopes were once like fire"; "The
flower that smiles to-day, To-morrow dies" ; "Far, far away,
0 ye, Halcyons of Memory," are typical poems. The poet
sings his melancholy, making no attempt to discover why
" Out of the day and night
A joy has taken flight."
Where so much is perfect expression, it is hard to choose, but
perhaps the Stanzas written in Dejection near Naples are the
most beautiful rendering of this mood. Nature brings no
peace to him, as she did to Wordsworth. The bright skies,
blue isles, and snowy mountains but remind him that he has
neither hope nor health, "nor peace within, nor calm around."
It is the same situation in his other lyrics ; the wind "moans
for the world's wrong" ; the moon is a lady "sick and pale" ;
even the happy notes of the lark remind the poet that his
own song can not make the world listen.
Love brings to him the bitterest disappointments ; "Send
the stars light, but send not love to me," is his prayer.
" I would not be a king — enough
Of woe it is to love;"
he sings, and the thought of many poems is compressed in
the lyric "When the lamp is shattered."^ It would seem that
he suffers from the very intensity of his emotion; he is in a
state of ecstasy or in the inevitable reaction which brings
despair. He laments that "the gentle visitations of calm
thought" do not stay; it is certainly significant that he
employs frequently the word "intense," and it is this intensity
of feeling that gives the exotic air to the Indian Serenade
(which Poe was one of the first to praise) or to the less
familiar fragment:
IT. Hutchinson, The Complete Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe
Shelley, Oxford, 1909, pp. 642, 661.
412 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" I faint, I perish with my love ! I grow
Frail as a cloud whose [splendours] pale
Under the evening's ever-changing glow;
I die like mist upon the gale,
And like a wave under the calm I fail."^
or to his entreaty for music :
" I pant for the music which is divine.
My heart in its thirst is a dying flower ;
Pour forth the sound like enchanted wine.
Loosen the notes in a silver shower;
Like a herbless plain, for the gentle rain,
I gasp, I faint, till they wake again."^
This extreme emotion has kept Shelley from such popularity
as Burns enjoys; "Ae fond kiss and then we sever" is closer
to the earth. Shelley is indeed the passive instrument of his
emotions ; he is carried away by his feelings ; he is filled with
a divine madness. While much of Byron's verse was impro-
visation, Shelley's seems the inspiration of the very Muse
herself, so strongly does his poetry move us. The one artistic
fault in his writing is that at times he can not control either
his imagination or his feeling ; Shakespeare in the tempest
of his greatest tragedies could ride the whirlwind and direct
the storm.
It is in his nature lyrics — The Cloud, The Skylark, The
Ode to the West Wind — that Shelley has won his greatest
popularity. The most ethereal of our poets, he loves to
write of the heavens, of light in all its forms, of the flowers.
A critic has remarked that poets usually illustrate the
spiritual by the material (as Verlaine in his "Ton ame est
un paysage choisi") but Shelley makes nature ghostly; it
is a spirit that he seeks behind the cloud and the rain. The
Skylark illustrates aptly the points we have discussed; the
1 P. 653.
2 P. 651.
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC ^13
poet's spirit pours itself out in stanza after stanza all illus-
trating one idea: the bird is likened to a poet, a maiden in
her bower, a glow worm, a rose. We prefer the Ode to the
West Wind to all his lyrics. No other poem better discloses
his passive imagination, his desire to be played upon and
stimulated, and though his melancholy appears here also,
the song ends in an unusually hopeful strain. Exquisite in
its imagery- — it is here that we find that immortal line,
"Driving sweet buds hke flocks to feed in air" — emotional
and yet restrained to an unusual degree, this is one of the
treasures of English literature.
We have said little of Shelley's style, the most glowing,
the most sensuous we have yet found. He is an artist, a
beauty worshipper, fascinated by color and form. Many
of his lyrics deal neither with nature nor with love: "On a
poet's lips I slept," the Echo songs, and Asia's "My soul
is an enchanted boat," all from Prometheus, show the art
lyric at its highest development. If we wish to measure the
change that has come over the lyric, we should read side by
side the Ode to Evening by Collins and Shelley's To Night.
Much as we find to admire in the earlier poem, we perceive
that Shelley's lyric is more suggestive, more lovely in its
descriptions, and more musical.
This brings us to our final consideration — Shelley's metre.
He has expressed in many a line his love for music and his
verse forms offer a wealth of melody. Had the content of
his poetry been negligible, we should still read it for the
music ; he said with truth :
" I have unlocked the golden melodies
Of the deep soul."
Rarely does he echo strains we have heard before; he leaves
the well-worn measures for a music of his own; even from
the Spenserian stanza he gains a new effect. He has not
achieved excellence in the sonnet form — critics say that it
]^ll^ ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
offered too narrow a scope for him — yet how much of melody
and emotion is expressed in the eight lines of "Music, when
soft voices die." From a song, he turns with ease to the
cumulative effect of Adonais. His melodies have never been
recaptured ; Tennyson, Rossetti, and Swinburne have each
a different voice. Surely we may consider Shelley supreme
in the lyric.
Ill
"I claim no place in the world of letters ; I am alone, and
will be alone, as long as I Hve, and after," wrote Landor
(1775-1864). Time has tested the truth of this proud, half-
defiant statement ; his place in English poetry is secure, but
he stands indeed alone, with no followers. His personality
is a unique one. Ordinarily we study a writer's life because
it is reflected in his verse and explains much that would other-
wise be unintelligible ; we read Landor's career chiefly to see
how utterly different from the poet was the man. Every-
thing about him seems paradoxical. Proud of his aristo-
cratic family, he despised the nobility ; loving freedom, he
hated democracy and said some severe things about
America ; a thorough Grecian in his tastes, he disUked Plato ;
revolting against society, he wrote contemptuously of Byron,
the poet of revolt; often a keen and penetrating critic (wit-
ness his exquisite commentary on Dante's Paolo and Fran-
cesca) he considered Southey a great poet. From his
Oxford days, his Hfe was disturbed by a long series of dis-
putes and quarrels ; he writes in his finest epigram — English
poetry can not show one more exquisite in its dignity and
restraint- — "I strove with none, for none was worth my
strife."
Amid all these contradictions, there was one unifying
principle in his nature — ^his classicism ; with the single excep-
tion of Milton, he is the most classical of all EngHsh poets.
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC 4I6
From boyhood he had been attracted by Greek and Italian
literature. He was often in doubt whether to write in
English or Latin. Gebir (1798), his first important poem,
was written in both languages, and he has said that when-
ever the English word he sought failed him, the Latin phrase
would be at his tongue's end. It is not surprising that as
Donne turned from the beauty worship of the Elizabethans,
Landor, wearied of "too much froth and too much fire,"
abandoned the manner of the romantic school and wrote in
the style of Meleager or of Martial at his best.
In his essay on Landor, Professor Dowden remarks that
discussions on the differences that exist between classic and
romantic art invariably put the reader to sleep ; yet in spite
of this warning, we must consider the question briefly. The
difference between the romantic and classic is one of treat-
ment rather than of subject-matter. A writer may be classic
in a poem describing New York harbor and conversely, Mar-
lowe's Hero and Leander enriches a classic theme with the
wealth of romantic art. It is obvious that we can not
describe in a few phrases any of the great modes of human
thought, but in general we may point out that the romantic
spirit yearning for the unattainable, aims to suggest, to
touch the reader's imagination; half the beauty of Shelley's
To Night lies in the mood it invokes. The classic poem is
clearly and sharply drawn ; the art is complete ; the last
word has been spoken. What a difference between Antigone,
with her task plain before her, and Hamlet, uncertain, waver-
ing, lost in a maze of thought. We understand the character
of the Greek heroine but will any one ever pluck out the
heart of Hamlet's mystery? Our modern poetry, with its
subtle shadings, touches more closely on the spiritual world;
the enchantments of Circe are less mysterious than the phan-
toms that appal the Ancient Mariner. The discontent, the
struggle, the aspiration of our modern life are remote from
the dignity and calm with which the ancient poets, even when
U6 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
they despaired, faced the problems of life and death. They
felt deeply, but the feehng was controlled. We see this in
a moment if we consider Landor's epigram once more :
" I strove with none ; for none was worth my strife,
Nature I loved, and next to Nature, Art;
I warmed both hands before the fire of life,
It sinks, and I am ready to depart."^
How definite is the picture of the old man bending with out-
stretched hands over the dying embers ; with what dignity
is the emotion repressed. We feel the modern spirit if we
contrast this with Browning's Prospice, with its cry of
exulting struggle, or with Tennyson's Crossing the Bar, with
its music, its twiUght tones, its mystery of the sea.
Landor, with his deliberate art, rarely felt the lyric
impulse; there is no spontaneity in his style; every effect is
carefully prepared. His verse moves soberly ; for the slow,
impressive line that fills the ear, he rejected the lighter
measures, and said that Scott's verse was to be jumped, not
danced or sung. In spite of this lack of the song element,
we have included him among our lyrists because he has many
short poems both musical and subjective. Poetry, he
declared, was his amusement; prose, his study and business,
and accordingly his verse occupies but little room in his
works, yet it offers many if not infinite riches.
The moment we read these brief poems, we think of the
Greek Anthology. Between five and six thousand Greek
epigrams have come down to us. They resemble in no wise
the modern epigram ; as the name indicates, they were short
inscriptions written to be placed on tombs and altars, on
monuments or public buildings. Written almost invariably
in the elegiac metre, they rarely exceeded twelve lines ; four,
six, and eight verses was the favorite length. Gradually the
1 C. G. Crump, Poems, Dialogues in Verse and Epigrams by Walter
Savage Landor, London, 1892, vol. II, p. 223.
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC il7
epigram included any short poem written in elegiacs and
the Anthology accordingly offers a wide range of subjects —
life and death, love and art. Many of the epigrams are
lyrical in all but their form, and indeed Meleager speaks of
them as hymns or songs. Two examples of his own work
show this lyric quality:
" Evermore in mine ears eddies the sound of Love, and mine
eye carries the silent sweetness of a tear to the Desires; neither
does night nor light let me rest, but already my enchanted heart
bears the well-known imprint. Ah, winged Loves, why do
you ever know how to fly towards me, but have no whit of
strength to fly away.''"
" Now the white violet blooms, and blooms the moist narcissus,
and bloom the mountain-ranging lilies ; and now, dear to her
lovers, spring flower among the flowers, Zenophile, the sweet rose
of Persuasion, has burst into bloom. Meadows, why idly laugh
in the brightness of your tresses ? for my girl is better than gar-
lands sweet to smell. "^
Short as these snatches of song are many of Landor's love
poems. They are generally graceful, courtly compliments :
" I love to hear that men are bound
By your enchanting links of sound:
I love to hear that none rebel
Against your beauty's silent spell.
I know not whether I may bear
To see it all, as well as hear ;
And never shall I clearly know
Unless you nod and tell me so."^
This is almost Herrick again save that it lacks some picture
of a flower or jewel. These poems have little or no unity;
there is no dominant feeling running through them as there
IJ. W. Mackail, Select Epigrams from the Oreek Anthology, new
edition, London, 1906, pp. 100, 103.
i Poems, II, p. 97.
U8 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
is in Wordsworth's sonnets or Byron's lyrics. They are
detached thoughts interesting for the manner in which they
are expressed. How far removed from the passion of the
romanticists is the narrative lyric "It is no dream that I
am he." How thoroughly in the spirit of the Anthology is
the lament:
"She I love (alas in vain!)
Floats before my slumbering eyes :
When she comes she lulls my pain.
When she goes what pangs arise !
Thou whom love, whom memory flies.
Gentle Sleep ! prolong thy reign !
If even thus she soothe my sighs.
Never let me wake again \"^
One of his love poems is immortal — the lament for Rose
Aylmer. Here in but eight verses, written by a man stirred
to the depths yet outwardly calm, we find expressed the grief
of a life time. Poe asserted that the most pathetic subject
a writer could devise was the death of a young and beautiful
maiden mourned by her lover. The Raven and Rose Aylmer
are alike in theme but one is the most romantic, the other
the most classic of elegies.
In a number of his best poems he has chiselled his own form.
It is a strong and placid face that we see. In his views on
life and death and nature he is always calm and composed.
Shelley, in his lament for the change that comes over all
lovely things, can not restrain himself; Landor writes with
composure :
" I see the rainbow in the sky.
The dew upon the grass,
I see them, and I ask not why
They glimmer or they pass.""
1 Poems, II, p. 89.
2 II, p. 130.
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC 419
His friends depart, Death stands before him whispering
low, but the poet has no fear at his strange language. There
is no outcry, no revolt, though
" spring and summer both are past.
And all things sweet."
Such a writer can never win popular applause and Landor
proudly disdained it. "I shall dine late," he wrote, "but the
dining room will be well lighted, the guests few and select."^
Art does indeed endure and Landor will always find "fit
audience, but few."
The beauty of Grecian myths, the grace and splendor of
the ancient world entered into the very hfe of John Keats
(1795-1821). With Landor he found in Hellas an inspira-
tion that shaped his whole career, for in writing Endymion
he discovered his own powers. Unlike Landor, he gave to
his classic themes the most romantic treatment. If we may
call Landor a sculptor, Keats is a painter using all the
warmth and glow of modern coloring. The spirit of Greece
touched both these writers but it led them through paths
that never met.
In the early death of Keats, English poetry sustained its
greatest loss. Had Marlowe hved, the spirit of his day
would have bound him to the drama for which he was temper-
amentally unfitted. Chatterton was attracted by the age
of feudalism ; his inspiration was tenuous ; and as we have
seen, his acknowledged writing is disconcertingly poor.
Byron and Shelley lived long enough to tell their message
and to gain a mastery of the style they most desired. Keats,
despite the perfection of certain poems, never reached his
maturity ; the fate he most feared — that he should die before
he reaped the gamers of his mind — overtook him. Yet the
rapidity of his development is as remarkable as his actual
1 Sidney Colvln, Selections from the writings of Landor, London,
1890, p. 345. This admirable book should do for Landor what Arnold
accomplished for Wordsworth.
m ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
accomplishment. Spenser, Dryden, and Milton, in rapid
succession, taught him their secrets. Shakespeare, both in
his sonnets and his plays, was a constant inspiration ; Homer
and Dante opened new worlds to him, yet in aU his imitation
and assimilation, there was a conscious and definite process
of finding himself. No man has recorded more beautifully
a love for the great masters of song. When he writes, he
hears their music but like the sound of the wind in the leaves
or the song of birds, it never disturbs but rather inspires his
own poetry.^ "I was never afraid of failure ; for I would
sooner fail than not be among the greatest," he wrote, and
such high ambition would not permit him to be any man's
disciple though he could learn from many bards of Passion
and of Mirth. "I will write independently," he tells Hessey.
"The Genius of Poetry must work out its own salvation in
a man." With Milton, he was ready to dedicate his whole
life to his art. He reahzed his own defects and was deter-
mined to overcome them ; if he lacked a broad outlook on Ufe,
he would gain one by a study of philosophy. "There is but
one way for me. The road hes through application, study,
and thought. I will pursue it; and, for that end, purpose
retiring for some years. "^ Those years were denied him.
Such words are the more remarkable coming from one
filled with the creative impulse. He believed that poetry
must come naturally or not at all and according to the testi-
mony of his friends, he wrote with that same ease that aroused
the admiration of Shakespeare's contemporaries. Indeed, he
could not restrain his pen. He is all in a tremble because
he has written no verses ; he composes a sonnet and sleeps
the better for it, but wakes in the morning "nearly as bad
again." From Winchester he writes Reynolds that he had
1 See the sonnet "How many bards," H. B. Forman, The Poetical
Works of John Keats, Oxford, 1910, p. 35.
2 H. B. Forman, The Poetical Works and other Writings of John
Keats, London, 1883, vol. Ill, pp. 230-1, 14.8.
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC ^21
been walking in the stubble fields and had found the autumn
coloring more beautiful than the chilly green of spring.
Then follows, as one might enclose a leaf turned crimson,
the Ode to Autumn. With a supreme carelessness, Keats
scattered through his letters some of the most perfect of
English poems. The sheer power that resided in that sickly
frame never was fully disclosed ; the sure and steady develop-
ment of Keats is as marvellous as his finest writing; above
all others, he is the one we would recall to earth.
He understood perfectly wherein lay his power and in
one verse he proclaimed his creed: "I follow Beauty, of her
train am I." The questions of church and state that stirred
Shelley to the depths had small interest for him ; his sonnet
"written in disgust of vulgar superstition," inspired by the
sound of church bells, seems a discord in his music. It was
not his task to attack the existing social order or plan a
new creation; he had no desire to expound a new system of
philosophy or to discover a moral interpretation of nature.
He often recited with the greatest admiration Wordsworth's
Ode on Immortality, but in the end, Wordsworth's meta-
physics utterly repelled him. He refused to visit Shelley
because he wished to maintain his own unfettered scope. His
nature was not speculative; he loved the earth as he found
it and searched in it for but one thing — a beauty that
could be grasped. A typical anecdote of Shelley pictures
him floating out to sea with the terrified Jane Williams,
asking her if she did not wish then and there to solve the
great mystery of death. Equally characteristic is the
description Keats gives of himself at Oxford, exploring in
his boat the windings of the Char: "We sometimes skim into
a bed of rushes, and there become naturalised river-folks."
He finds, as does every genius, that the beauty of the world
is new and unknown. As though Shakespeare and Herrick
had never written, he describes the flowers in gardens and
fields ; he revels in the odors of the earth ; he listens with
]tM2 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
the joy of a discoverer to the song of the birds. We have
to-day patient and careful observers of nature, but too
often they merely tabulate what they see; with Keats,
observation is always fused with emotion. Nature's loveli-
ness is inexhaustible ; here was enough for one who wrote
"with a great poet the sense of beauty overcomes every other
consideration, or rather obliterates all consideration."^
Keats sought for beauty not only in the earth but in that
other world of books. He read with a keen eye and ear ; "I
look upon fine phrases as a lover," he said, and he adorned
his verse with many a phrase culled with exquisite taste
from the masters of poetry. He is continually reading;
he can not exist without poetry ; half the day will not do for
it, he needs all the hours. We have seen how the Wartons
tricked out their odes with whole passages of Milton; Keats
intuitively culls the right word. The title of an early Eng-
lish poem gives him his Belle Dame sans Merci; he knew
Milton's
" As the wakeful bird
Sings darkling,"
and remembers it in the "Darkling I listen" of his own Ode
to a Nightingale. ]\Iany a line, such as "How tiptoe
Night holds back her dark grey hood," has the impress of
Shakespeare's style, and again and again he has caught the
melody of the Faerie Queene — "Spenserian vowels that elope
with ease." Mr. Bridges has pointed out many lapses of
taste in the diction of Keats, and yet at his best his sense
of the beauty and music of words is as high as his perception
of color and form.
His imagination fairly revelled in beauty. He was gov-
erned by what he called "the mighty abstract idea of beauty
in all things," and he felt that he did not live in this world
alone but in a thousand worlds. He was certain of nothins
IP. 100.
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC ^23
but of the holiness of the heart's affections and the truth
of imagination, for "what the imagination seizes as beauty
must be truth."' Everything, with him, tended but to one
end and his poetic vision found Madeline's bower or Latmos
even more lovely than a little hill decked with the flowers of
an Enghsh May. There are indeed many conceptions of
beauty. The Hedonist and the Platonist would each find a
different charm in the same object; the modern poet dis-
covers a fascination in bleak coasts and in the waste places
of the earth; he hears a lyric in the songless reeds. To
many beauty has a disquieting allurement; it even leads, as
it did the "knight-at-arms," to death. Keats is an EHza-
bethan reborn. An idealist, he yet finds beauty before him
and can grasp it. When asked why he makes a long poem
of Endymion he replies that it must be full of pleasant pas-
sages to which the lover of verse may retire, and everywhere
he shows that fine excess which he declares constitutes the
chief delight of verse.
We may now see why song, the simplest form of the lyric,
so rarely attracted Keats. If offered too little opportunity
for those splendid passages that dazzle the eye and fill the
ear with melodies. He wrote, however, two — sharply con-
trasted but equally beautiful. His Faery Song
" Shed no tear- — O shed no tear !
The flower will bloom another year,"
might indeed have been sung by Ariel; no higher praise
could be given it. "In a drear-nighted December" comes
as near Shelley's mood as Keats ever approached save that
the lament of the last stanza is not bitter enough:
" To know the change and feel it,
When there is none to heal it,
Nor numbed sense to steel it^
Was never said in rhyme."
IP. 90.
^^^ ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
La Belle Dame sans Merci is so intensely subjective that we
may claim it as a lyric. This poem, rather than CoUins's
Ode on the Superstitions of the Scottish Highlands, may be
said to contain the germ of the romantic school. Here is
the very essence of romance — fear added to beauty — and
so perfect is the poet's art that one is at a loss what to
admire the most : the imagery, the delicacy of treatment, or
the form. Here is a rhythm that expresses absolutely the
mood of the writer. The melancholy effect of the shortened
fourth line is indescribable:
" And this is why I sojourn here
Alone and palely loitering.
Though the sedge is withered from the lake.
And no birds sing."'^
It was natural that Keats, a fervent admirer of Shakes-
peare's sonnets, should have left some sixty sonnets of his
own. Many of them are surprisingly poor, written in no
serious mood, but added to his letters as one might scrawl
a pen sketch on the margin. Ten of his sonnets, so
Bridges believes, comprise his best work ; Matthew Arnold
has chosen eight, and these are enough to place Keats with
our finest sonneteers.^ Of the ones written in the Italian
form, On First Looking into Chapman's Homer is his
masterpiece and indeed its sestet for its perfect picture of
the poet's mood (is it not one of the finest similes in the lan-
guage.'') and for its breadth and amplitude of suggestion,
is unsurpassed in our sonnet literature. In this same form,
"To one who has been long in city pent," and "The poetry
of earth is never dead," are beautiful expressions of a lighter
mood. The first has caught the languor and the tenderness
of a summer's day ; the second shows Keats resembling Burns
1 Formal), Keats, 1910, pp. 311, 338, 356.
2 See Bridges' Introduction to The Poems of John Keats, Muses'
Library, London, 1896.
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC ^25
by his interest in the life of the small creatures of the earth.
For his deepest utterances, Keats turned to the Shakes-
pearean sonnet. "When I have fears that I may cease to
be," is so rich in its expression that its intense though
restrained pathos is at times obscured. What could be more
typical of Keats's conception of beauty heightened by a sense
of mystery than such an imaginative phrase as
" When I behold, upon the night's starred face.
Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance."
Of his last sonnet, Bright star, it can be said without fear
of contradiction that no one of Shakespeare's surpasses its
rare union of emotional force, melody, and imaginative
description.
The odes of Keats are not only the greatest lyric achieve-
ment, but they are the finest expression of his genius. They
possess the beauty of the finest passages in Endymion or the
Eve of St. Agnes — indeed their music is of a higher and
subtler quality — and two at least have in marked degree
that subjective element which brings verse closer to us, or
rather catches us up into the poet's heaven. In these poems
we find all the traits of mind which we have discussed — the
intense perception of beauty in nature, in art, in literature ;
and in the world which the imagination can create. The
odes differ absolutely in their tone and consequently in their
effect, agreeing only in their exquisite workmanship. In
his essay on the letters of Keats, Bradley has written
that the poet's genius "showed itself soonest and perhaps
most completely in the rendering of Nature,"^ and this
agrees with Mr. Bridge's judgment that To Autumn is the
most perfect of all the odes. It has unusual restraint and
yet every line brings some new picture to the eye. The per-
sonification of Autumn is exquisitely imagined; it is no
lA. C. Bradley, Oxford Lectures on Poetry, London, 1909, p. 332.
426 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
statue that we see before us but a sleeping woman. Such
an ode pleases equally the classic and the romantic taste.
The Ode to a Nightingale has the greatest emotional quality
and like some splendid tapestry, blends many colors. We
have almost a Byronic mood in the picture of the weariness
and fever of modem hfe
" Here, where men sit and hear each other groan ;"
we have a richness of description that vies with the Protha-
lamion and surpasses it, because of the modern sense of
mystery :
" I can not see what flowers are at my feet,
Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs,''
and above all we have that perfect union of the real and the
unreal, for as surely as we hear the song of the bird we hear
other notes that charm the magic casements of fairy lands.
The Ode on a Grecian Urn, despite its popularity, does
not rank with his best two odes ; indeed, above it should be
placed the little-known Ode to Sorrow from the fourth book
of Endymion. The opening stanzas are EUzabethan in their
music :
" To Sorrow,
I bade good-morrow.
And thought to leave her far away behind;
But cheerly, cheerly.
She loves me dearly;
She is so constant to me, and so kind.
Would any one suspect this to be by Keats.? Then follows
a lyrical description of Bacchus and his crew which, for color
and magnificence of sound, seems a page of the Arabian-
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC P7
Nights set to music. All that Spenser gave to lyric verse,
Keats equalled and surpassed.
IV
In Sir Walter Scott (1771-1832) and Thomas CampbeU
(1777-1844!) we reach the lyrics of patriotism and war, the
best songs of action that this age produced.
It has become too much the fashion of late to speak apolo-
getically, even sHghtingly, of Scott's verse, and to value him
almost exclusively as a novehst.^ Scott himself, with his fine
and modest spirit, disclaimed too readily his poetic gift and
it must be admitted at once that not only is his field a limited
one, but even his most characteristic work is uneven in
quality. At his best, he is unrivalled; his battle scenes are
described with such force and vigor that they have no equals
in the language ; his pictures of the splendor and color of
the last days of chivalry are still unmatched. Any doubts
as to the validity of Scott's inspiration will vanish at a read-
ing of the stag hunt in the Lady of the Lake, the death of
Constance, and the battle of Flodden, in Marmion, to name
three widely differing passages.
Scott's best work, if we look for sustained writing, and
disregard the brilliant but detached passages from the poetic
tales, is to be found in his lyrics. Bacon tells us that Demos-
thenes was once asked what was the chief part of an orator.
He answered, action: What next.'' action: What next again.''
action. Judged by such a standard, Scott's lyrics are dis-
tinguished above those of most writers, for action is his great
quality. Bacon then proceeds to decry action in a speaker
as a paltry thing which the ignorant admire ; to give life
and movement to verse is no easy matter. Scott had been
brought up on the ballads ; if he never, except in Proud
1 See for example Arthur Symons, The Romantic Movement in Eng-
lish Poetry, London, 1909, pp. 108-119.
4^8 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
Maisie, attained their pathos or tragic force, he caught their
simphcity of diction, their rapidity of action. At times his
verse fairly leaps :
" Like adder darting from his coil.
Like wolf that dashes through the toil,
Like mountain-cat who guards her young,
Full at Fitz- James's throat he sprung."^
No one has written anapests that speed more lightly or more
rapidly than his :
" One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear.
When they reach'd the hall-door, and the charger stood near ;
So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung.
So light to the saddle before her he sprung !
' She is won ! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur ;
They'll have fleet steeds that follow,' quoth young Lochin-
Professor Saintsbury has spoken enthusiastically yet ad-
visedly of the success of such a stanza. We have seen this
metre used for whimsical, trifling, half-serious and half-jest-
ing love poetry ; Scott makes a new thing of it. Not only
is there "racing and chasing on Cannobie Lee," but in every
verse of The Cavalier's Song in Rokehy or the better-known
Bonnie Dundee. To write anapests with this ballad move-
ment is no slight achievement, for no other metre, not even
the octosyllabic couplet, degenerates so rapidly into dog-
gerel.
Many other of his lyrics have this same spirited rhythm.
What better marching song could there be than
1 J. L. Robertson, The Poetical Works of Walter Scott, Oxford, 1909,
p. 355.
2 P. 143.
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC 4^9
" March, march, Ettrick and Teviotdale,
Why the deil dinna ye march forward in order?
March, march, Eskdale and Liddesdale,
All the blue bonnets are bound for the Border.
Many a banner spread,
Flutters above your head.
Many a crest that is famous in story.
Mount and make ready then.
Sons of the mountain glen.
Fight for the Queen and our old Scottish glory."^
Scott is at his best when the clans go out to battle, yet the
war song echoes in all types of his lyrics. We have read
many lullabies from Greene to Blake in which the mother
or an angel guards the child; with Scott, a warrior stands
near the cradle:
" O, fear not the bugle, though loudly it blows.
It calls but the warders that guard thy repose ;
Their bows would be bended, their blades would be red,
Ere the step of a foeman draws near to thy bed."^
The lyric of the deserted maiden has said nothing hitherto
of war, but Scott can not forget the battle :
" Where shall the traitor rest.
He, the deceiver.
Who could win maiden's breast,
Buin, and leave her.''
In the lost battle.
Borne down by the flying.
Where mingles war's rattle
With groans of the dying. "^
In his few love lyrics, Scott writes poorly ; when he
attempts a more thoughtful or heightened style, as in his
ip. 790.
2 P. 729.
3 P. 118.
430 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
song to the moon in Rokehy, his skill vanishes. He could
write the dirge for lovely Rosabelle, but he could have written
no deep and passionate protestation of devotion to her. If
Scott's lyrics move to the simplest music, yet there is always
a melody :
" And each St. Clair was buried there,
With candle, with book, and with knell;
But the sea-caves rung, and the wild winds sung,
The dirge of lovely Rosabelle."^
There is something of Campion's direct style in that Hvely
little hunting song, "Waken, lords and ladies gay"; cer-
tainly it has the metre and the simple diction of his
" Never love unless you can
Bear with all the faults of man."
Three lyrics of Scott are decidedly better than the rest
of his songs. Two of them were inspired by a few Hues from
old songs, but "Why weep ye by the tide, ladie," is no in-
genious imitation, it is the very essence of the ballad lyric,
and the song from Rokehy far surpasses its original, "It
was a' for our rightful king." Scott's lyric has the true
haunting quality, as Clive Newcome found :
This morn is merry June, I trow,
The rose is budding fain;
But she shall bloom in winter snow.
Ere we two meet again.'
He turned his charger as he spake.
Upon the river shore,
He gave his bridle-reins a shake.
Said, 'Adieu for evermore.
My love!
And adieu for evermore.' "^
1 P. 45.
2 P. 341.
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC ^Sl
His masterpiece is Proud Maisie. Here is a situation that
would have appealed to Poe, but how differently would he
have treated it. Scott gains his effect by his brevity ; Nature
does not suggest death but pronounces the girl's doom :
" The glow-worm o'er grave and stone
Shall light thee steady.
The owl from the steeple sing,
' Welcome, proud lady.' "^
Thomas Campbell tried his hand at various styles of verse
composition. The Pleasures of Hope resembles the Queen
Anne verse essay ; Gertrude of Wyoming and The Pilgrim
of Glencoe are pure narrative; Lines on Poland, or The
Power of Russia are political manifestos. From all these
poems the interest has faded ; Campbell's war lyrics still
remain among the finest in the language.
This is to say that Campbell had but one gift. He could
express most admirably the shock of battle and the thrill of
patriotism. He has a measured eloquence that few writers
of war songs have attained, for surely Ye Mariners of Eng-
land and the Battle of the Baltic stand alone. There is no
more dreary reading than collections of patriotic songs, but
the expression of a nation's spirit was Campbell's oppor-
tunity. At times his writing is so poor that his climaxes are
not only weak but positively ludicrous, as in the closing
stanza of his ballad of the Ritter Banm,:
" One moment may with bliss repay
Unnumbered hours of pain;
Such was the throb and mutual sob
Of the knight embracing Jane,"
1 P. 776.
JfS2 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
yet the man who wrote that cheap jingle also wrote :
" Britannia needs no bulwarks,
No towers along the steep;
Her march is o'er the mountain waves^
Her home is on the deep.
With thunders from her native oak
She quells the floods below,
As they roar on the shore
When the stormy winds do blow, —
When the battle rages loud and long
And the stormy winds do blow."^
Surely this is something more than brilliant rhetoric.
With Lovelace, Campbell needed a war to arouse his mind
and feeling, and we may add, his artistic sense. He found
some good lines in the old song, Ye Gentlemen of England,
and with this suggestion he made his Mariners of England
from which we have just quoted a typical stanza. He wrote
his Battle of the Baltic first in twenty-six stanzas of six lines,
some of them singularly feeble and ineffective. He condensed
this first version to eight stanzas, altering the metre and
saving, with the best of judgment, every good line. As this
is one of the happiest instances of successful revision it is
worth while to give two stanzas in their first form and then
show what he made from them :
" The bells shall ring ! the day
Shall not close
But a blaze of cities bright
Shall illuminate the night.
And the wine-cup shine in light
As it flows !
IJ. L. Robertson, The Complete Poetical Works of Thomas Camp-
bell, Oxford, 1907, pp. 184, 188.
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC J^SS
" Yet, yet amid the joy
And uproar.
Let us think of them that sleep
Full many a fathom deep
All beside thy rocky steep,
Elsinore !"
This becomes:
" Now joy, Old England, raise
For the tidings of thy might
By the festal cities' blaze.
While the wine-cup shines in light;
And yet, amidst that joy and uproar.
Let us think of them that sleep.
Full many a fathom deep.
By thy wild and stormy steep,
Elsinore l"^
Hoherdinden, half narrative, half lyrical, has the same
effectiveness of rhythm and energy of expression that lends
these patriotic odes their value. As in the case of Scott,
Campbell's love poetry is poor. The Wownded Hussar, we
are told by Beattie, was sung in the streets of Glasgow and
became popular everywhere. It is certainly quite different
from the modern street song:
" Alone to the banks of the dark-rolling Danube
Fair Adelaide hied when the battle was o'er:
' Oh, whither,' she cried, 'hast thou wandered, my lover ?
Or here dost thou welter and bleed on the shore }' "
Not merely the rhythm but the sentiment of this poem reminds
us that we are approaching the vogue of Tom Moore; we
feel this in the Soldier's Dream, with its line adapted from
Lovelace :
iPp. 195, 191.
4B4. ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" Our bugles sang truce^for the night-cloud had lowered.
And the sentinel stars set their watch in the sky/'^
though Campbell rarely caught the easy, famiUar style of
the Irish Melodies.
We come to the lighter side of the lyric in the poems of
Moore and Praed. Tom Moore (1779-1852) forsook his
birthplace, as most Irish writers have done, and made him-
self the favorite of London drawing-rooms. He was clever
and witty in conversation ; he had a rare faculty for making
friends (witness Byron's over-enthusiastic praise of Moore's
poetry) ; and his writings hit the popular fancy. At the
height of his fame he was easily considered a much greater
poet than Wordsworth or Shelley. Time has dealt hardly
with him; indeed, he himself saw his reputation wane, but
though his satirical and humorous verse has lost its sparkle,
and though the rococo work of Lalla Roohh has become sadly
tarnished, his Irish Melodies will never lack readers. Once
more, a poet's best work is contained in his lyrics.
We have many pictures of Moore, but none more vivid
than the sketch Willis gives of him. He heard Moore talk
of Ireland — "the whole country in convulsions — people's
lives, fortunes and religion at stake" — yet on such a subject
what Willis finds most characteristic is "the delicacy and
elegance of Moore's language," the "kind of frost-work of
imagery which was formed and melted on his lips !" He
heard Moore sing. "He makes no attempt at music. It is
a kind of admirable recitative, in which every shade of
thought is syllabled and dwelt upon, and the sentiment of
the song goes through your blood, warming you to the very
eyelids, and starting your tears, if you have a soul or sense
in you. I have heard of women's fainting at a song of
1 Pp. 197, 198.
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC 435
Moore's; and if the burden of it answered by chance to a
secret in the bosom of the listener, I should think, from its
comparative effect upon so old a stager as myself, that the
heart would break with it."^ The tears that were shed, over
Clarissa Harlowe now flow at Moore's songs. It is the revival
of the sentimental school, and Moore's lyrics represent the
best form of the tender stanzas that adorned the Annuals
and Garlands of the second quarter of the century.
It was a happy thought that prompted the publication of
a series of Irish melodies with words written for them by
Moore. From 1807 to 1834 the melodies appeared in sepa-
rate parts with twelve songs in each. The music, arranged
so simply that a child could play it, was in a large measure
responsible for the success of this venture, for many of the
melodies were extremely beautiful. Endless repetition has
not yet destroyed the appeal of Believe me, if all those endear-
ing young charms, or of The Last Rose of Summer. Moore
insisted that his only talent lay in discovering the emotion
or sentiment in the melody and then translating it into
words; he even went so far as to desire that his songs be
always sung and never read. It is true that in nearly every
case, his words fit the music perfectly. He had no help
whatever from Irish poetry or from the verses long asso-
ciated with these folk tunes, as many of them were. The
Groves of Blarney becomes The Last Rose of Summer; 0,
Patrick fly from me and Paddy Whack are transformed to
When first I met thee and While History's Muse; The Pretty
girl milking her cow and The girl I left behind me are
changed to The valley lay smiling before me and As slow our
sMp.
It is amusing to observe that Moore gravely informed his
English readers that there was nothing "revolutionary" in
these poems, and he speaks of his work as his "patriotic
task." A most casual reading of the Irish Melodies reveals
1 N. P. Willis, Pencilings by the Way, London, 1839, p. 368.
^36 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
their lack of national spirit. Certainly we find allusions to
the minstrel's harp, to Erin, to Tara's halls, to Irish saints
and heroes, patriots and exiles, but the heart of the matter
is not in these sentimental ditties composed for London
drawing-rooms. Collins in his unfinished ode realized more
clearly than did Moore in all his melodies what the Celtic
spirit is. Moore wrote a song on the gloomy lake in Done-
gal beheved by the peasants to be the mouth of Purgatory
and the abode of spirits.^ There is not the slightest shudder
or mystery in his stanzas as there is, for example, in "Moira
O'Neill's" Fairy Lough:
" Loughareema, Loughareema ;
When the sun goes down at seven,
When the hills are dark an' airy,
'Tis a curlew whistles sweet !
Then somethin' rustles all the reeds
That stand so thick an' even;
A little wave runs up the shore
An' flees, as if on feet."
If it seems unfair to contrast Moore with the writers of the
neo-Celtic school (for he lacked their knowledge of Irish
legend and poetry), we can justly compare liim with
Burns. In the songs of Burns we have the Scotch peasant
as he lived and loved and caroused ; we hear the very words
he used. In Moore there is no Irish dialect, no smell of the
soil, nothing that comes from the heart of the folk. There
is indeed a devotion to Erin expressed many times, but it
has none of the ring of "Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled."
There is little of Irish thought or life in
" When Love, rocked by his mother.
Lay sleeping as calm as slumber could make him "
1 1 wish I was by that dim lake.
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC ^37
or
" The young May moon is beaming, love.
The glow-worm's lamp is gleaming, love.
How sweet to rove
Through Morna's grove,
When the drowsy world is dreaming, love !"^
Compare this with Of a' the airts and we realize instantly
the difference between sentimental fancy and that emotion
whose natural language is verse. If we do not wish to leave
Ireland, let the reader compare the lyrics of Mangan, who
died three years before Moore, with the lyrics from the Irish
Melodies that are published in the Dublin Book of Irish
Verse and he will see how deep is the gulf that separates the
patriotic lyric from the song for poKte society.
The artificiality of many of these songs — their conven-
tional allusions to the harp, the bowl, the rose, the moon
(how rarely the moon appears in the songs of Burns) —
must not blind us to their one splendid quality : they are per-
fectly adapted to music and constantly suggest it. How
few of the lyrics of Byron or Shelley are suitable for musical
accompaniment. At his best, Moore has a genuine pathos.
"She is far from the land," or to leave the Irish Melodies,
"Come, ye disconsolate," and above all, "Oft in the stilly
night," have a tender melancholy that atones for many an
insincere and insipid song. His finest lyric shows this same
mood, expressed with a music that is unsurpassed elsewhere
in his verse :
" I saw from the beach, when the morning was shining,
A bark o'er the waters move gloriously on;
I came when the sun o'er that beach was declining.
The bark was still there, but the waters were gone.
1 A. D. Godley, The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore, Oxford, 1910,
pp. 227, 203.
iS8 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" And such is the fate of our life's early promise.
So passing the spring-tide of joy we have known;
Each wave, that we danced on at morning, ebbs from us.
And leaves us, at eve, on the bleak shore alone.
" Ne'er tell me of glories, serenely adorning
The close of our day, the calm eve of our night; — -
Give me back, give me back the wild freshness of Morning,
Her clouds and her tears are worth Evening's best light."^
Winthrop Mackworth Praed (1802-1839) hardly justified
the brilliant promise of his student days, and as in the case
of Moore, a much better poet, the greater part of his work
has now little significance. His best quality was his wit, his
ability to express a clever phrase in an apt metre, but
he desired to write in a serious vein. Thus we find in the
Troubadour a number of sentimental songs, of which My
Mother's Grave is the best. In general, when Praed would
be emotional, his feeling is too obvious ; there is no person-
ality behind it, and his too facile metres deepen the impres-
sion of artificiality :
" So glad a life was never, love.
As that which childhood leads.
Before it learns to sever, love.
The roses from the weeds;
When to be very duteous, love.
Is all it has to do;
And every flower is beauteous, love.
And every folly true."^
This reads like Moore in his weakest moments.
It is when Praed turns to the light satire of fashionable
folly, when he writes of the artificial life of the day, that he
is at his very best. No one has quite caught his tone, though
1 P. 209.
2 A. D. Godley, Select Poems of Winthrop Mackworth Praed, Oxford,
1909, p. 19.
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC
he foretells London Lyrics and the modern school of society
verse in his Good-Night to the Season:
" Good night to the Season! — the dances.
The fillings of hot little rooms,
The glancings of rapturous glances,
The fancyings of fancy costumes;
The pleasures which fashion makes duties.
The praisings of fiddles and flutes.
The luxury of looking at Beauties,
The tedium of talking to mutes;
The female diplomatists, planners
Of matches for Laura and Jane;
The ice of her Ladyship's manners.
The ice of his Lordship's champagne."^
Praed has one or two tricks he repeats too often; his use of
zeugma :
" He cleared the drawbridge and his throat.
He crossed his forehead and the moat,"
loses its effect, but his gaiety never flags and he is an artist
in lighter metres. His two most successful pieces, Our Ball
and A Letter of Advice, can not by any chance be considered
lyrical, and he comes before us as the first in point of time
of our modern vers de societe writers rather than as one who
has contributed much to this delightful genre.
Praed has brought us to the minor poets of the period.
Campbell certainly belongs among them but we found it
convenient to consider him with Scott. We shall consider
but three others — omitting several well-known names. Of
these the most popular is Thomas Hood (1799-184!5).
We shall not concern ourselves with his humorous lyrics
except to remark that it is a misfortune that by far the
greater part of his verse aims to be nothing more than
clever trifling. In his serious work there are two distinct
iP. 121.
UO ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
moods : he is the social reformer and he is the artist. A small
group of poems — The Lady's Dream, The Workhouse Clock,
The Lay of the Labourer, The Song of the Shirt, The Bridge
of Sighs— show the humanitarian side of his nature; he has
no philosophical theories of a possible regeneration of society,
but he sees certain definite wrongs and he strikes at them.
The Song of the Shirt is not merely a tract for Hood's times,
but for all times ; he was not a great enough writer to stamp
out the sweatshop, yet it is true that this poem had more
effect on the people of his day than some of the greater odes
we have considered. True and sincere as is its pathos, its
workmanship is not at all remarkable and it must yield to
The Bridge of Sighs.
If the reader will turn to our remarks upon Raleigh's Lie
or to those sonnets of Shakespeare which express dissatis-
faction with the social order, he will find that we appreciated
the vigor and force of these poems. Here we have a more
effective complaint of man's inhumanity, because instead of
generalizations, of indignation at the thought of "Captive
Good attending Captain 111," we have the picture of the
friendless girl standing
" 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 !"
We are too prone to neglect the work of the present. Here
is a dirge for the outcast which stands absolutely alone in
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC Ul
its pathos, its intensity, its artistic restraint. How quietly
this fearful arraignment of modern society closes :
" Cross her hands humbly,
As if praying dumbly.
Over her breast !
" Owning her weakness.
Her evil behaviour.
And leaving, with meekness,
Her sins to her Saviour !"
The short line, which in other hands might become jerky, fits
the mood, for it brings the picture and the emotion to us at
once; skillful is the use of assonance and the chant of the
chorus :
" Take her up tenderly
Lift her with care ;
Fashioned so slenderly.
Young, and so fair !"^
In what we have called, for the sake of contrast. Hood's
art lyrics, his pathos is still evident. At times it is merely
a gentle melancholy, as in his Fair Ines, whose melody won
the praise of Poe. It is fancy rather than imagination that
we see in this picture of the beauty sailing to her lover in
the West :
"I saw thee, lovely Ines,
Descend along the shore.
With bands of noble gentlemen.
And banners waved before;
And gentle youth and maidens gay.
And snowy plumes they wore; —
It would have been a beauteous dream,
— If it had been no more !"^
1 W. Jerrold, The Complete Poetical Works of Thomas Hood, Oxford,
1906, p. 643.
ZP. 177.
U^ ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
The same may be said of his lament for his lost boyhood,
"I remember, I remember," in which we see regret rather than
that deep longing which Vaughan shows when he writes on
the same subject.
In his rather meagre appreciation of Hood, Professor
Saintsbury calls attention to the fact that the couplets in
the fragment of the Sea of Death have something of Keats ;'
it is more interesting to notice poems in which Hood's mate-
rial is plainly modelled on the older poet's work, for it is
instructive to observe the difference between the poetry of
a genius and of a talented, sensitive writer. Hood's Water
Lady is a weaker Belle Dame sans Merci; his Ode to Autumn,
though not without many original strokes, is plainly reminis-
cent of Keats's greater ode. And if Hood followed a modern
poet, he also knew the work of the Jacobean and Caroline
writers, for he has something of their quaintness of imagery
and of their conceits. We hear Marvell in such a stanza as :
" 'Tis not trees' shade, but cloudy glooms
That on the cheerless valleys fall.
The flowers are in their grassy tombs.
And tears of dew are on them all,"^
while The Death Bed reminds one of the Dean of St. Paul's,
though more harmonious and more tender than he would
have made it :
" Our very hopes belied our fears.
Our fears our hopes belied —
We thought her dying when she slept.
And sleeping when she died !
" For when the morn came dim and sad.
And chill with early showers.
Her quiet eyelids closed — she had
Another morn than ours !"'
"^History of English Prosody, vol. Ill, p. 145.
2 P. 183.
3 P. 444.
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC U^
In his own day, Bryan Waller Procter (1787-1874), better
known as Barry Cornwall, was ranked with Moore as a song
writer. We hear an echo of this mistaken opinion in the
pages of Stedman's Victorian Poets (1876) in which more
space is devoted to Procter than to Matthew Arnold. We are
told that his songs "beyond those of any other modern, have
an excellence of 'mode' which renders them akin to the melo-
dies of Shakespeare, Marlowe, Jonson, Heywood, Fletcher,"
and Stoddard is quoted with approval when he doubts
"whether all the early English poets ever produced so many
and such beautiful songs as Barry Cornwall." To-day his
work is so little regarded that neither Palgrave nor Quiller-
Couch print in their anthologies a single Hne of his verse.
The third edition of Procter's songs appeared in 1851.
This volume contained a preface, written in 1832, in which
the poet lamented the fact that England is singularly barren
of song writers, and it was plainly his ambition to fill what
he considered to be the chief lactma in English poetry. He
admired Burns above all other lyrists, finding in his verse
"an earnestness and directness of purpose which, if attended
to, would strengthen the poetry of the present day." Un-
fortunately, Procter's aim was beyond him. Turning over
his pages, the charm seems to have vanished from these once
popular lyrics. Their diction is simple, their style is un-
affected, they appear admirably adapted for music, but they
lack all distinction and their artistic spirit and their imagi-
native quality is slight. Even his most quoted song is no
longer read beyond the first two lines :
" The sea ! the sea ! the open sea !
The blue, the fresh, the ever free !"
We are hardly thrilled by
" I love (Oh! how I love) to ride
On the fierce foaming bursting tide."
Ui ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
Of all his lyrics (and he wrote too many), the Htmter's Song,
"How many Summers, love," and "Touch us gently. Time!"
represent his best work, yet these poems are far from being
inspired.^
We must pass by Thomas Love Peacock (1785-1866),
whose Paper Money Lyrics, parodying the manner of Words-
worth and Coleridge, of Scott, Campbell and Moore, furnish
a comic relief to the high seriousness of their work. He was,
however, much more than a satirist, and showed, in his serious
moods, skill and talent. His ballad of Robin Hood has a
free and attractive movement:
" Oh, bold Robin Hood is a forester good.
As ever drew bow in the merry greenwood !"
his Love and Age has the lightness of Praed; and his poem
on the death of his child has much of the pathos of Hood.^
We must also omit George Darley (1795-1846), an even
better lyrist, whose songs in Sylvia have the grace and airi-
ness of the Elizabethans in their gayest moods,' and we close
the chapter with Beddoes, a neglected poet, we may almost
say a neglected genius.
Thomas Lovell Beddoes (1803-1849) was temperamentally
an own brother to Webster and Toumeur, the last of the
Elizabethan dramatists. He resembles them both in style
and in morbid thought ; his favorite lyric form is the dirge.
Life for him was indeed a tragedy, for he died by his own
hand.
The most characteristic work of Beddoes, Death's Jest-
Book, is as sombre and terrible a drama as the Duchess of
1 Barry Cornwall, English Songs, and other small poems, London,
1851, pp. 73, 81, 91, 208.
2 B. Jonson, The Poems of Thomas Love Peacock, Muses' Library,
London, 1906, pp. 284, 373, 328.
3 R. Colles, The Complete Poetical Works of George Darley, Muses'
Library, London, N. D., pp. 83-206.
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC US
Malft. Throughout its soUloquies and dialogues, the thought,
the imagination, the fierce energy of many a line recall the
most moving passages in the old drama. The songs are even
more startling in their kinship to the lyrics of the Eliza-
bethan playwrights, for Beddoes is no imitator but seems
actually one of their number. He does not reproduce the
light and airy melodies of Shakespeare ; his songs are laments,
the bridal hymn turning to the funeral song:
"If thou wilt cure thine heart
Of love and all its smart,
Then die, dear, die."
Even when we feel the influence of a modern writer, as in
these lines that recall Shelley:
" The swallow leaves her nest,
The soul my weary breast;"
he ends the lyric with the gloom of Webster :
" The wind dead leaves and snow
Doth hurry to and fro;
And, once, a day shall break
O'er the wave.
When a storm of ghosts shall shake
The dead, until they wake
In the grave."
It is this morbid strain in his writings more than their uneven
quality that has robbed Beddoes of the fame he deserves. In
his sadness he rarely approaches the obvious moods of sor-
row ; he has nothing to compare with Tennyson's "As through
the land at eve we went," or "Home they brought her war-
rior dead." He appeals accordingly with most force to the
lovers of the old poets, yet all must feel the haunting sug-
gestion of his Dream Pedlary:
U6 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" If there were dreams to sell.
What would you buy?
Some cost a passing bell;
Some a light sigh.
That shakes from Life's fresh crown
Only a rose-leaf down.
If there were dreams to sell,
Merry and sad to tell.
And the crier rung the bell.
What would you buy?"*^
The lyrists of the Elizabethan age ran the gamut of emo-
tion from the simplicity of Greene's songs to the subtlety of
Donne's thought. With the exception of Milton and Her-
rick, they were succeeded by distinctly minor writers. The
poets of our modem Renaissance have a wider range than
the singers of Shakespeare's day, and furthermore they in-
spired another generation whose achievement far surpasses
that of the Jacobean and Caroline poets. We are too near
the nineteenth century to pass final judgment upon its work.
Much that moves us may fail even to interest future genera-
tions ; yet surely an age that produced the poets we have
just considered, an age that led to the lyrists who await us
in our next chapter, is more significant and more inspiring,
in our chosen field, than the spacious times of great Elizabeth.
1 R. CoUes, The Poems of Thomas Lovell Beddoes, Muses' Library,
London, N. D., pp. 31, 30, 356.
CHAPTER NINE
The Lyeic of the Nineteenth Century
PART TWO
Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892) above all other nineteenth
century poets truly and adequately portrayed his land and
his age. He was English to the heart's core. His verse
shows more of his country's thought and feehng and char-
acter than does the poetry of any one of his predecessors, be
it Byron, or Shelley, or Keats ; or of any one of his contem-
poraries, be it Browning or Arnold, Swinburne or Rossetti.
This does not imply any narrowness of mind ; indeed, Thack-
eray, not given to hero-worship, called Tennyson the wisest
man he had ever known. In many a passage the poet showed
how deeply he had studied the classics. He loved Italy as
English writers have always loved the
" lands of palm, or orange-blossom.
Of olive, aloe, and maize and vine !"
but above the glory that was Greece, the grandeur that was
Rome, above "olive silvery Sirmio," or all else that Italy
could oiFer, he prized England. He is the poet of English
coasts and fields, of English traditions and beliefs, of Eng-
lish hfe, and character, and exploits. Arnold labors to recon-
struct in his own tongue a Greek tragedy ; Browning finds
in Italy the theme for his greatest poem ; it is characteristic
that for his most extended work, Tennyson should turn to an
English classic, Malory, and draw inspiration from legends
that went deep into England's past.
U8 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
Because Tennyson lived so completely in his own land, in
his own day and generation, and not in spite of this, he has
won his place beside our greatest poets, for are not a nation's
great men those who represent most completely the spirit of
their race? Cromwell was typically English in his virtues
and his defects ; Lincoln was thoroughly American, bearing
the strong impress of a definite section of our country ; every
drop of blood in Bismarck's veins was German ; while Hugo
incarnates the weakness and the brilliancy of the Gallic spirit.
That Tennyson's poetry was an epitome of his times, that it
exhibited the society, the art, the philosophy, the religion of
his day was proved by the welcome which all classes gave to it.
The Prince Consort admired the chivalric spirit of the Idylls,
while the plebeian judgments were taken by the sentimen-
talism of The May Queen or In the Children's Hospital.
Scientists applauded his acceptance of their theories and dis-
coveries ; scholars praised his Virgilian sweetness ; the behever
found his faith strengthened by In Memoriam; while such a
questioner and doubter as Henry Sidgwick discovered in three
stanzas of that same poem "the indestructible and inalienable
minimum of faith which humanity cannot give up." Swin-
burne is moved to rhapsody (not unusual, to be sure) by the
strength and pathos of Rizpah; FitzGerald is touched to
tears by the truth and tragedy of The Northern Farmer.
The inevitable reaction has set in. Critics tell us that
Tennyson's poetry is too smooth, too placid, too effeminately
graceful, too "Victorian."
" Faultily faultless, icily regular, splendidly null,
Dead perfection, no more."
The Idylls are Malory reduced to limpid sentimentality; In
Memoriam is shallow in its philosophy; it does not grapple
with the problems it presents but helplessly avoids them. In
all such derogatory criticism — and there is too much of it —
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC U9
the lyrics are never assailed; already their place is secured
and they are acknowledged to stand with the highest crea-
tions of English genius.
These lyrics are divided readily into distinct groups. The
first contains the art lyrics, songs that attract us more by
their beauty of melody and description than by their emotion
or their thought. They are all so familiar that they are
upon our lips as we name them. Claribel, pure music, curi-
ously anticipates much of modern poetry that makes its
appeal by suggestion, by its half concealed imagery, yet no
one has quite imitated its tone; The Brook and Far-Far-
Away are the allegro and adagio of song; The Owl is a bit
of melody for an Elizabethan Puck. AU these lyrics, even
the most trifling, are perfect in their form. Writers of lesser
rank, when carried away by their imagination or their emo-
tion, frequently attain a perfection of speech that delights
and then disappoints us because it so soon is gone. Tennyson
shows the marks of his genius in these lyrics of slight import
as he does in the deeper poems throbbing with feeling. The
Bugle Song from The Princess is wonderful in its rhythm, in
the melody of its vowels and of its rhymes, but more remark-
able is the exquisite blending of thought and music. For
these horns of elfland, too deep an emotion, too marked a
motif would be unsuited, and accordingly Tennyson has ex-
pressed that quiet surprise, that tender regret which the echo
of distant music brings to us. We have heard this poem so
many times that we have ceased to wonder at it, taking it as
a matter of course. There is nothing like it in our poetry.
Apparently its thought and sentiment could be as well ex-
pressed by lyrists of lesser gifts, but if we read Moore's echo
song, "How sweet the music echo makes," we find that it has
none of Tennyson's magic.
We turn for an example of the art lyric in a more highly
developed form to the choric song in The Lotos-Eaters. It
has the sensuous, luxuriant description of Spenser's ideal
i.50 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
landscapes; it has that vivid beauty of phrase which Keats
desired, and yet it is distinctly Tennysonian.
" Music that gentlier on the spirit lies.
Than tired eyelids upon tired eyes ;"
" Let us swear an oath, and keep it with an equal mind.
In the hollow Lotos-land to live and lie reclined
On the hills like Gods together, careless of mankind."
There is the distinctive note, the range in the modulation that
keeps this song with all its appeal to the senses from being
over sweet and cloying. With a skill that never deserted
him, Tennyson varies his metre, making it rise and fall with
the thought, as a tree sways in the wind. Here as elsewhere
he uses effectively that device we found in the earliest lyrics,
a succession of verses on one rhyme :
" Here are cool mosses deep.
And thro' the moss the ivies creep.
And in the stream the long-leaved flowers weep.
And from the craggy ledge the poppy hangs in sleep."
The gradual lengthening of the lines until the slow move-
ment culminates in the Alexandrine is a stroke of art. In
our poetry of the last century, no writer, not even Swin-
burne, surpassed Tennyson in giving to the poet's message
"The music that wraps it in language beneath and beyond
the word."
Surely we are Platonists enough to agree with Browning
that
" If you get simple beauty and naught else.
You get about the best thing God invents:"
yet we turn more frequently to those lyrics in which the senti-
ment or the emotion is stronger and the musical element not
a whit weaker, to "All along the valley"; "Break, break,
break"; The Miller's Daughter; "Move eastward, happy
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC 451
earth" ; "Birds in the high wood calling." What a variety of
thought and expression is here ! With these poems we include
the songs from The Princess: "As through the land" and
"Home they brought her warrior dead," pathos purified from
sentimentality; "Sweet and low," as widely known as were
once the old folk ballads, sung more often to-day than any
English slumber song ; "Ask me no more," in which, as Pro-
fessor Saintsbury remarks, he challenges the Caroline writers
on their own ground ;^ and above aU, "Tears, idle tears," the
most beautiful unrhymed lyric in the language. There is a
most interesting contrast between its sure and firm style and
the more elusive qualities of Verlaine's little masterpiece,
" II pleura dans mon coeur
Comme il pleure dans la ville."
In all these lyrics — and we have not mentioned those ex-
quisite songs from the Idylls, "Turn, Fortune, turn thy
wheel"; "In love, if love be love"; "Free love — free field";
"Ay, ay, O, ay — the winds that bend the brier !" — Tennyson
is much more than a consummate artist in language and
metre. In a sonnet to Cambridge he once upbraided his Alma
Mater :
" You that do profess to teach
And teach us nothing, feeding not the heart.''
He himself was free from this charge and back of all these
songs is an emotion, communicated directly to us. In any
of the fine arts we weary of technique alone, no matter how
brilliant. Les Trophees by De Heredia is a collection of
remarkable sonnets that are purely objective writing. We
admire the vividness of the description, the elegance of the
style, and then we forget the poems. It is a safe assertion
1 Cf . Carew's "Ask me no more." There is a reminiscence of Marvell's
Nymph la/menting the death of her fawn in the line from Maud, "You
have but fed on the roses and lain in the lilies of life."
ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
that no modern lyrics are so firmly fixed in our memories as
are Tennyson's.
We come to the final group of his lyrics in which the emo-
tion and the thought are deeper, songs in which we hear the
cry of passion. Here we would consider many of the sections
of In Memoriam. If we regard this elegy as verse argument,
as an attempt to reconcile faith with experience, to justify
the ways of God to man, we shall be disappointed in it. If
we read it as a series of lyrics, showing not the experiences
of love, as do the sonnet sequences, but the moods of grief,
we shall find that this work deserves its place among the
English classics. Even here the poet shows his wide range
in this highest form of the lyric. But this variety is typical
of all his work. We turn from the cloistered purity of Saint
Agnes' Eve to the impassioned love song from Maud; from
the tranquillity of Crossing the Bar to what is the most
poignant lyric note in all his writings :
" O that 'twere possible
After long grief and pain
To find the arms of my true love
Round me once again !
" A shadow flits before me.
Not thou, but like to thee.
Ah, Christ, that it were possible
For one short hour to see
The souls we loved, that they might tell us
What and where they be !"^
Here is the simplicity of greatness. These six verses are
worthy of Hamlet in his most inspired moments. Comment-
ing upon The Silent Voices, Tennyson's last lyric, dictated on
his deathbed, Palgrave writes, "Those solemn words, As sor-
rowful yet always rejoicing, give the true key to Alfred
1 Maud.
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC ^53
Tennyson's inmost nature, his life and his poetry."^ More
than any other modern poet he united in his lyrics the joy
in life and the sense of its discouragements, its disasters, its
tragedies.
For the greater lyric forms, Tennyson's fame might rest
on two widely contrasted odes, the youthful Ode to Memory
and the great dirge for the Iron Duke. The former is rich
in its music and in its descriptions, tender in its feeling and
its suggestions; the funeral ode has a fitting restraint both
in its diction and rhythm, yet this severity of style has caused
it to be undervalued. It is direct and straightforward in its
appeal ; over the grave of this warrior, Tennyson has erected
a granite shaft, not a Gothic chapel. A smaller poet would
have yielded to the temptation to indulge in the lurid color-
ings of battle scenes; it is easy to imagine how this subject
would have been treated by the eighteenth century writers
of Pindaric odes. There is no finer expression of English
patriotism than this ode, and its enduring qualities will be
more fully recognized as time goes on. Nothing is more
characteristic of it than the nobility of its concluding verses.
How simply Paradise Lost draws to its end. There is no
Miltonic organ music, no great picture of the world to which
the exiles go, in those last lines :
" They, hand in hand, with wandering steps and slow,
Through Eden took their solitary way."
So this ode shows its kinship with the great works of Eng-
lish genius nowhere more closely than in its ending :
" Speak no more of his renown.
Lay your earthly fancies down.
And in the vast cathedral leave him,
God accept him, Christ receive him!"
1 Golden Treasury of Songt and Lyrics, Second Series, p. 261.
464 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
Robert Browning (1812-1889) is one of the most fasci-
nating and one of the most perplexing figures in all English
literature, an inviting personality for the lover of paradox.
Over no modem poet are critics so hopelessly at variance.
He sings and he stammers; he writes with the simplicity of
inspiration and with the awkwardness of one to whom Eng-
lish is a foreign language; he arrives after many twistings
and turnings at the goal of his thought and he rushes at it
with the speed of the wind ; he takes pages to explain a situa-
tion, he reveals it in a line ; he delights in pure beauty, he
revels in the grotesque. These are but a few of the incon-
sistencies that meet us the moment we approach his work.
From boyhood he seemed destined for verse ; as a child he
was keenly sensitive to the appeal of music, painting, and
poetry. When twelve, he had written a book of poems (it
was destroyed) in the style of Byron, and in the following
year he fell under the charm of Keats and Shelley. When,
however, his first work was published, he spoke in his own
language and throughout his whole career his manner was
"very strange and new." If the years have made him a less
commanding figure, if they have somewhat tarnished parts
of the eternal monument he reared, they have destroyed noth-
ing of the beauty and the power of his finest lyrics.
The lyrics contain the very essence of Browning's poetry,
for they show his form and expression at their highest level.
As there is much poetry in the prose of everyday life, so
there is much prose in the verse of every writer — even in
Shakespeare, assuredly in Milton. In Browning's longer
poems, the prose element is frequently so conspicuous that we
wonder why he chose a metrical form for his discussions and
analyses. In his lyrics, this prosaic element has vanished yet
his distinctive tone, free from admixture of classic or con-
tinental influence, remains. It is Browning's misfortune that
he did not recognize this, that his lyrics form such a small
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC ^65
part of his work, and it is worth while to discover why such
is the case.
No modern poet surpassed Browning in intellectual curi-
osity or in subtlety of thought. His life was filled with mani-
fold interests. He certainly lived in his own day and genera-
tion, yet his imagination revivified the past, and characteris-
tically, not the past that attracted Scott and Coleridge,
Keats or Shelley, or the Pre-Raphaelite group. All human
existence seemed to be his field, and with the greatest novel-
ists, he is attracted by the most widely separated characters,
the hero and the knave ; the saint and the libertine ; the Pope
and the peasant girl; Caliban and Mr. Sludge. Moveover
his temperament is argumentative; he loves nothing better
than to discuss his creations, looking behind their actions
to their motives. As Spedding would prove that Lord Bacon
had been unfairly condemned, so Browning delighted to take
the other side of the case and turn our accepted opinions
inside out. This curiosity, this alertness is much more sur-
prising than the calmer introspection of Tennyson, but it
by no means implies a greater depth of thought than Tenny-
son showed.
Now the lyric poet, as we have seen, depends more upon
sheer intuition than upon analysis. He may comment upon
his emotions and seek to explain them, but in a moment he
is caught up again by the surge of his feelings. He con-
vinces, not by argument or discussion, but by the sheer inevi-
tableness of his thought and sensation. His nature will not
permit him to question overmuch, and he is more intent upon
showing his state of mind than upon explaining it critically.
The purely emotional element in In Memoriam repeatedly
overpowers the poet's attempt to consider the philosophic
significance of the mystery of death. Browning's tendency
is to peer too deeply in the face of things. He is not content
to enjoy the color and perfume of a flower; he would dig to
see its roots and what manner of soil produced it. It would
^56 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
be a difficult matter to discover lyric stanzas finer than cer-
tain ones in Two in the Campagna, yet this description of
imperfect sympathies is not a lyric chiefly because the poet
becomes so interested in explaining the lover's attitude.
Again, judged by his work as a whole, Browning did not
regard sufficiently the technique of verse. His Old Pictures
in Florence teUs the story ; he prefers to highly finished art,
pictures crude in coloring and imperfect in drawing because
he sees in the lower art a chance for development, something
beyond to strive for. In a celebrated statement, he declared
that a poet should lay stress on the incidents in the develop-
ment of a soul and that little else is worth study. Surely
the manner of telling these incidents is worthy of the highest
study. In reading much of Browning, it is difficult to believe
that he was a musician and that at one time he determined
to become a composer of songs, for the music of his verse
so often disappoints us. Who but Browning would have
allowed in the pure melody of Love among the Ruins, one of
the most splendid achievements in the field of the lyric, such
an inexcusable discord as
" Where the patching houseleek's head of blossom winks
Through the chinks".^
Professor Saintsbury has declared that Browning is an
audacious but almost invariably a correct prosodist; "he
goes often to the very edge, but hardly ever over it." Such
negative praise is not enough ; the lyric poet must have music
ever ringing in his ears. Browning felt the force in words ;
to an extraordinary degree, he discovered their emotional
content, but not always their melody. It is easy to find
exceptions to this, as the verses from Paracelsus,
" Heap cassia, sandal-buds and stripes
Of labdanum, and aloe-balls,"
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC ^57
yet this is not his usual style, and the close of the song reads
like the work of the neo-Celtic school, in its dreamy sadness :
" like a cloud
From closet long to silence vowed,
With mothed and drooping arras hung,
Mouldering her lute and hooks among.
As when a queen, long dead, was young."
His poems please us more often because of the nobility of
their thought and feeling than by their workmanship.
Browning's lyrics, then, are comparatively few in number,
but these few are most precious. If we look for their dis-
tinctive traits, we remark first of all their superb sense of
movement. As Swinburne observed, much of Browning's
obscurity comes from the rapidity of his thought ; we can
not follow him in his haste. The tide of his emotion is never
a tide that moving seems asleep and, in lyrical writing, this
is an excellence rather than a defect. What a splendid rush
there is in his cavalier tunes. No knight-at-arms eager for
battle ever sang a more ringing refrain than :
" King Charles, and who'll do him right now ?
King Charles, and who's ripe for fight now.?
Give a rouse: here's, in Hell's despite now.
King Charles!"
Such a song would have been worth many regiments. In the
Last Ride Together, we hear the very beat of the horses'
feet in the marvellous rhythm, while the thoughts hurry
through the lover's mind as quickly as the landscape rushes
by. In "The year's at the spring," how the song leaps to
its triumphant conclusion,
" God's in his heaven —
All's right with the world !"
In Prospice, in the Epilogue to Asolando, where we expect
a quieter movement because of the opening phrases.
iB8 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" At the midnight in the silence of the sleep-time.
When you set your fancies free,"
what an onward march there is. Love among the Rums is
the most beautiful of all his lyrics. Using a metre as musical
as that of the Elegy in a Coimtry Cfmrchyard (though
utterly diiferent in its effect), Browning draws in the open-
ing verses as quiet a picture as did Gray :
" Where the quiet-colored end of evening smiles
Miles and miles
On the solitary pastures where our sheep
Half -asleep
Tinkle homeward through the twilight, stray or stop
As they crop — "
Yet after such a prelude we hear the tread of armies, we see
the chariot race, and the poem ends in a splendid burst of
feeling as fine in its effect as Blake's plate of the soul re-
united to the body. Whatever may be said of Browning's
verse, it certainly throbs with life. It is the spirit, and no
technical excellence, that gives the value to his patriotic
"Nobly, nobly Cape Saint Vincent to the North-west died
away."
We have said nothing of nature descriptions in his lyrics.
As we might infer, they are sharply and precisely drawn,
no imagined scenes but bits of real life — the campagna, the
sea coast "to the farther South," or England in May. De
Gustibus and Home-Thoughts, from Abroad show the clear-
ness of his vision; where other poets but draw details, he
gives us a whole country in a few lines. It is not, however,
in his treatment of nature but of love that Browning's lyrics
reach their highest point.
The poet's philosophy of life is summed up in his line
"Love is best," and to represent the emotions, the idealism,
the happiness, the despair of a lover was his chief lyric gift.
Could there be a better way of measuring the artificiality
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC ^59
of the followers of Petrarch or the courtier poets of "either
Charles's days" than by comparing their gallant compli-
ments with Browning's Summwm Bonum, My Star, or the
songs from In a Gondola? The delight in the "wild joy of
living" felt in all these lyrics has led many a poet into the
quagmires, but it brought Browning to the heights. His
women are flesh and blood, no pale abstractions, but he is
as much of an ideaUst as any poet we have discussed. The
love he sings is a union of heart and mind; it is a moulding
force ; it is the final touch that crowns man's life, if not in this
world, surely in the next. "Let us be unashamed of soul,"
he cries, and he follows his own injunctions. There is a
nobihty in these poems that affects us as strongly as their
emotional power; it is conspicuously seen in the calmness
and courage with which his men and women who sing these
songs meet disappointment and death.
If a study of Hterature teaches anything, it cautions us to
beware of trusting the praise or blame a poet receives from
his contemporaries. Browning has suffered equally from
neglect and from over-enthusiastic admiration. Whatever
may be his ultimate fate, it is impossible to beheve that these
lyrics will ever lose their freshness, their vigor, their appeal
to what is highest in man and woman.
II
Dante Gabriel Rossetti (1828-1882) was the son of
Frances Polidori and Gabriele Rossetti. His father, a man
of letters and the custodian of ancient bronzes in the Museo
Borbonico at Naples, was an ardent patriot. His songs,
directed against the tyranny of Ferdinand I, brought him
in such danger that he left his home and took refuge in
London in 1824. Frances Polidori had an English mother,
but her father was an Italian litterateur who had published
a translation of Milton and who had been secretary to the
poet Alfieri.
460 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
Though the traditions of his family pointed him towards
a literary career, Rossetti had determined from boyhood to
become a painter. Beginning his art studies in 18412, he
became the pupil of Ford Maddox Brown in 184!8. This
same year, with Millais and Holman Hunt, he founded the
Pre-RaphaeUte brotherhood — a protest against the conven-
tional technique, the trifling sentimentality, and the lack of
imagination in English art. It was the behef of the men who
formed this group that the very perfection of Raphael's
style had tended to destroy originality in modern painting.
They affirmed that the modern artist should assert his own
individuahty and paint objects as he saw them not as he
thought Raphael would have seen them. "They did not take
the earlier painters as a model, but they wished to revert to
the principles of an artistic age when a strong and domi-
nating tradition was not at work, but when painters devel-
oped art on their own lines with sturdy fidelity, masculine
individuahty, and serious intention."^
A description or criticism of the paintings of this school,
to say nothing of Rossetti's work, would lead us too far
afield, but we certainly must mention one undertaking of the
brotherhood. The Germ. This was a monthly magazine,
founded to defend and illustrate the Pre-RaphaeHte theories
of art. It was short Kved ; only four numbers were pubHshed.
They were enough to make it forever famous ; the second
contained The Blessed Damozel, the last, six of Rossetti's
sonnets on pictures.
In 1851 Rossetti became engaged to EUzabeth Siddal, a
girl of extraordinary beauty, whose face appears in many
of his paintings and who inspired a work greater than all
his canvasses- — his sonnet sequence, The House of Life. Not
until 1860 did his means permit him to marry her and within
two years she died suddenly from an overdose of laudanum.
In an agony of grief Rossetti buried with her the sole manu-
1 A. C. Benson, Rossetti, London, 1904, p. 20.
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC ^61
script of his poems. In 1869 her grave was opened, the
manuscript recovered, and in the following year the poems
were published.
The sonnets contained in this volume establish Rossetti's
position among our greatest lyrists. Palgrave includes The
blessed Damozel in his Golden Treasury of Songs and Lyrics,
yet it hardly lies within our province. We feel this when
we compare it with the poem that inspired it, Poe's Raven.
The refrain, the inner rhymes of the Raven instantly suggest
music ; Rossetti's masterpiece with its characteristic mingling
of the spiritual and the sensuous, with its definite imagery,
with its vivid coloring, suggests a painting:
" She had three lilies in her hand,
And the stars in her hair were seven."
When we remember how thoroughly familiar he was with
Itahan poetry, we are surprised to find in his work so little
that has song quality, for he wrote no madrigals or baUate.
Certainly there are a number of exquisite lyrics scattered
through his poems, Sudden Light, Insomnia, The Wood-
spurge, An old Song ended. Although they have not the
artistic significance of the sonnets, yet they bear the stamp
of his genius.
We perceive that Rossetti is a supreme master of technique
the instant we read the opening sonnet in The House of Life.
We quote but its octave:
" A sonnet is a moment's monument, —
Memorial from the soul's eternity
To one dead deathless hour. Look that it be.
Whether for lustral rite or dire portent.
Of its own arduous fulness reverent:
Carve it in ivory or in ebony,
As Day or Night may rule ; and let Time see
Its flowering crest impearled and orient."
462 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
No English sonneteer had attained such a style ; its effect
is as unique and original as the impression The Blessed
Damozel makes upon us. Rossetti said that Drayton's
" Since there's no help, come, let us kiss and part, —
Nay, I have done, you get no more of me;"
was the finest sonnet in the language, yet his own style is
as far removed as possible from such a simple, monosyllabic
diction. Many of the most beautiful of the Elizabethan
sonnets are so fluent in their expression that they read like
inspired improvisation ; the flowers of speech that adorn them
are gathered in any garden. In the majority of Rossetti's
sonnets, every line seems curiously and exquisitely wrought.
However, they are much more than carvings in ivory or
ebony, to use his own figure, for we feel in them all the most
poignant emotion. His hues have a new note; the ear is
filled with the languorous tones of long drawn out chords :
" What dawn-pulse at the heart of heaven, or last
Incarnate flower of culminating day, —
What marshalled marvels on the skirts of May,
Or song full-quired, sweet June's encomiast;"
or
" Sweet dimness of her loosened hair's downfall
About thy face ; her sweet hands round thy head
In gracious fostering union garlanded;
Her tremulous smiles; her glances' sweet recall
Of love; her murmuring sighs memorial;"^
William Sharp considers Shakespeare, Wordsworth, and
Rossetti our three greatest sonneteers, and that Rossetti is
supreme in "weight and volume of sound. As a wind-swayed
pine seems literally to shake off music from its quivering
branches, so do his sonnets throb with and disperse deep-
sounding harmonies."^
1 Beauty's Pageant; Love-Sweetness.
i Sonnets of this Century, London, 1886, p. Ixxiii.
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC 463
The sonnets in The House of Life tell of the overpowering
appeal of beauty; of the ardor of love; of the desolation
wrought by death; — old themes yet new ones in Rossetti's
hands. As we have seen, the predominating strain in his
blood was Italian, and these sonnets have little of English
tradition in them. We have quoted Browning's "Let us be
unashamed of soul," yet Browning is more restrained than
Rossetti. Donne is at times frankly sensual yet in a few
lines he shows more of the intellectual side of love, more of
the union of two minds, than we discover in all Rossetti's
sequence. Although he declared that it was never his wish
to assert that the body is greater than the soul one does not
get that impression from his verse. He appeals insistently
even morbidly to the senses; the very love letter he receives
from his mistress seems warmed by her hand, shadowed by her
hair, shaken by her breath. We remember that the Eliza-
bethan Platonists worshipped beauty and celebrated human
loveliness, but they made a clear distinction between the body
and the spirit. They never forgot the greater beauty of
which the earthly is but a type or symbol ; Rossetti lives for
the present moment. How far removed from Spenser's Hymn
to Beauty are Rossetti's lines :
" Lady, I fain would tell how evermore
Thy soul I know not from thy body, nor
Thee from myself, neither our love from God."^
When the Elizabethan lyrists praise physical beauty —
Lodge's Rosalynde is a good instance — they are like men
admiring some wonderful statue bathed in sunlight. Brown-
ing's lovers meet under the open sky in
" The champaign with its endless fleece
Of feathery grasses everywhere !
Silence and passion, joy and peace.
An everlasting wash of air;"
^Searfa Hope.
^6^ ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
but Rossetti takes us to a dim room, where we are over-
powered by the incense burning at a shrine to Venus Victrix,
or by the heavy fragrance of flowers scattered on the floor.
Robert Buchanan's bitter attack on Rossetti in his diatribe
entitled The Fleshly School of Poetry was unjust; on the
other hand there is truth in Patmore's strictures. He con-
sidered, writes Gosse, that Rossetti above all other modem
writers had been granted an insight into spiritual mysteries,
but though the ark of passion had been placed in his hands,
he had used it chiefly to serve his curiosity, and we might add,
to dehght his artistic sense.^
Although the House of Life, taken as a whole, cloys the
taste ; although its intense worship of beauty may antagonise
the reader as do parts of Crashaw's poetry, it contains son-
nets that are unsurpassed in any literature. We turn from
the despair of Lost Days to The One Hope; from The Birth-
Bond, whose sestet contains that faultless description of a
predestined love, to Silent Noon, so vividly written that one
almost feels the calm of mid-day ; from the pure idealism of
Soul's Beauty to the fearful reahty of death in Without Her.
If we compare the imagery and the passionate abandon-
ment to grief of this sonnet with the restrained sorrow of
Milton's "Methought I saw my late espoused saint," we see
at a glance the essential diff'erence between the classic and
the romantic styles.
But Rossetti was much more than a notable painter and
a great sonneteer; he was a dominating personality. His
spirit impressed itself on contemporary poetry — plainly in
the early poems of Morris and Swinburne, less apparently
but quite unmistakably in the writings of many smaller
poets. Keats had shown the world the beauty of classic
myth and the loveliness of nature; Rossetti found in beauty
the white heat of emotion, an enchantment that enthralled
the senses. It is little wonder that a genius so original, so
1 Edmund Gosse, Coventry Patmore, N. Y., 1905, p. 175.
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC 466
forceful in expression should have set aflame the imaginations
of the two poets whom we now reach in our study.
William Morris (1834-1896), "poet, artist, manufacturer,
and socialist," felt from childhood the fascination of the
Middle Ages. He delighted to visit the old churches about
his Essex home, making rubbings from the inscriptions on
their tombs or studying their carvings. There is a certain
period in the life of every boy when he must have his soldier
suit ; Morris, true to his tastes, had a suit of armor.
When Morris entered Exeter College, Oxford, he looked
forward to taking orders, as did Burne-Jones, a fellow colle-
gian and firm friend, but the call of art proved too strong
for them. In 1855, on a vacation trip to France, they both
decided that they were not destined for the priesthood;
Bume-Jones was to become a painter and Morris an archi-
tect. This devotion to art led them directly to Rossetti and
for two years Morris was his ardent disciple, vainly endeavor-
ing to make of himself a painter. His first important work
was not a picture but a book. The Defence of Guenevere and
other Poems (1858).
This volume was dedicated to Rossetti and throughout it
his influence is plainly felt. Here are the Middle Ages with
their fair women, their combats, their tragedies, but above
all, with their pomp and pageantry. These are the poems
of a painter ; on every page we see the love of color :
" Gold on her head, and gold on her feetj
And gold where the hems of her kirtle meet,
And a golden girdle around my sweet; —
Ah! qu'elle est belle. La Marguerite."^
On the purely artistic side, in the choice of subjects and in
the manner of treatment, we see Rossetti, yet the two men
were diff"erent in temperamnt. Morris writes objectively;
in this book he sees more than he feels and he nowhere dis-
1 The Eve of Crecy.
466 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
closes that intense personal emotion which was to mark the
sonnets of The House of Life. Accordingly the lyrical ele-
ment is sHght in this first volume. Its best poems are
dramatic narration, The Haystack in the Floods, King
Arthur's Tomb, Sir Peter Harpdon's End; the few lyrics,
The GilUflower of Gold, The Eve of Crecy, Two Red Roses
across the Moon, Sir Giles' War-Song, Praise of my Lady,
and In Prison, are sHght in texture, frankly artificial, and
show Httle of his genius.
In his next volume, Morris appears as the follower of
Chaucer and indeed he is his greatest disciple. The opening
of the seventeenth book of The Life and Death of Jason,
(1867) proclaims his allegiance:
" Would that I
Had but some portion of that mastery
That from the rose-himg lanes of woody Kent
Through these five hundred years such songs have sent
To us, who, meshed within this smoky net
Of unrejoicing labor, love them yet.
And thou, O Master ! — Yea, my Master stiU,
Whatever feet have scaled Parnassus' hill.
Since hke thy measures, clear, and sweet, and strong,
Thames' stream scarce fettered bore the bream along
Unto the bastioned bridge, his only chain, —
O Master, pardon me, if yet in vain
Thou art my Master, and I fail to bring
Before men's eyes the image of the thing
My heart is filled with."
The poet's style has been transformed ; it is no longer ornate
and over-wrought but "clear and sweet," if not always
strong. It has not, however, become more lyrical and this
admiration for Chaucer, expressed with even more feeling
in the Envoi to The Earthly Paradise, would not turn him
towards song. He is to be a teller of tales.
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC 4.67
Throughout his narrative poems Morris does introduce
a few lyrics. In Jason, there are several, written in octo-
syllabics, of which the best is :
" I know a little garden close
Set thick with lily and red rose,
Where I would wander if I might
From dewy dawn to dewy night,
And have one with me wandering."
yet none of them have distinction. In his prose romances
we find songs ; The Roots of the Movntains has at least one
that deserves remembrance :
" Green and green is thy garment growing
Over thy blossoming limbs beneath;
Up o'er our feet rise the blades of thy sowing.
Pierced are our hearts with thine odorous breath.
" But where art thou wending, thou new-comer }
Hurrying on to the Courts of the Sun?
Where art thou now in the House of the Summer?
Told are thy days and thy deed is done.
" Spring has been here for us that are living
After the days of Winter's fear;
Here in our hands is the wealth of her giving,
The Love of the Earth, and the Light of the Year.""^
The gleaning, however, is scanty, though we search in his
morality. Love is Enough, or in his renderings of the North-
ern Sagas.
The case is altered when we turn to The Earthly Paradise,
(1868-1870). Even here, in all the forty-two thousand lines,
the lyrics are but few yet they are extremely beautiful. The
duo in the tale of Ogier the Dane has the simplicity and the
freshness of the Elizabethans :
1 Chapter XXIX.
^68 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" In the white-flowered hawthorn brake.
Love, be merry for my sake;
Twine the blossoms in my hair,
Kiss me where I am most fair —
Kiss me, love ! for who knoweth
What thing cometh after death?"
The Noel in The Land East of the Sun has caught the spirit
of our earliest lyrics, except that the refrain seems affected:
" In an ox-stall this night we saw
The snow in the street and the wind on the door.
A babe and a maid without a flaw,
Minstrels and maids, stand forth on the floor.
The love song in Accontius and Cydippe has charm and
music ; the one in He Who Never Laughed Again has more
emotion than Morris usually cares to show ; the stanzas that
the "sweet-voiced choir of unknown, unseen folk" sing in
Cupid and Psyche are tender in feeUng and beautiful in
expression, yet none of these would be ranked among the
great English lyrics.
To give variety and to separate into groups the tales of
the Earthly Paradise, Morris composed twelve lyric inter-
ludes, one for each month. They are placed far apart, with
long stretches of verse between, but they should be detached
from their context and printed side by side since they form
a lyric cycle that for variety, beauty and pathos, ranks
with the best work of the nineteenth century. Each lyric con-
sists of three stanzas in Chaucer's favorite rhyme royal. Like
the Chaucerian imitators of the fifteenth century, Morris
was too prolix, but in these short songs he has restrained
himself, with the result that these lyrics are finer in their
workmanship and more intense in their feeling than any
other poems in this volume. These songs of the months
portray with a skill that recalls Rossetti the aspects of the
changing seasons, yet they are not mere descriptive poems.
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC ^69
for through them all runs the poet's lament for change and
death. He sees the inevitable end even in the promise of
April:
" When summer brings the lily and the rose,
She brings us fear; her very death she brings
Hid in her anxious hearty the forge of woes;
And, dull with fear, no more the mavis sings."
In the songs of fall and winter we seem to hear the old strains
of "Wynter wakeneth all my care," but sung with the shad-
ings and the intensity of modern art. In his writings Morris
did not follow the injunction of Sidney's verse to look in his
heart and write ; he looked back on the myths and legends
of the past. In these few lyrics, there is more than mere
objective art, and as Alfred Noyes points out, "many of
them are personal utterances — glimpses of Morris's own life,
recollections of golden afternoons on the river above Oxford,
when he was composing his great poem or reading it aloud
to his wife and friends" ■}
" O June, O June, that we desired so.
Wilt thou not make us happy on this day.''
Across the river thy soft breezes blow
Sweet with the scent of beanfields far away.
Above our heads rustle the aspens gray.
Calm is the sky with harmless clouds beset,
No thought of storm the morning vexes yet."
If we turn from this placid mood to the dejection of
November, expressed with an intensity that recalls SheUey,
we find a range of expression that makes us regret the poet's
devotion to the epic.
Algernon Charles Swinburne (1837-1909) had no long
and painful struggle to win popular recognition. His
Atalanta in Calydon (1865) and Poems and Ballads (1866),
1 Alfred Noyes, William Morris, London, 1908, p. 79.
Jl^^O ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
a volume that owes much to Rossetti, astonished the age by
the remarkable originality and brilliancy of the verse as well
as by the audacity of theme and treatment. He won in-
stantly partisans and opponents and was alternately extolled
and traduced. For nearly half a century he was a command-
ing figure ; he steadily produced lyrics, verse tragedy and
romance, prose criticism, yet he was never a writer whose
language and thoughts entered into the life of the times.
We can not attribute this to the over-sweetness, to the sensual
tone of part of his early work, nor to his avowed hostihty
towards church and creed, which offended many, for in some
of his very greatest achievements these traits of style and
thought never appear. We can not say that his style is
too difficult or his thought too obscure for the plebeian judg-
ment when Browning has become popular. Without accept-
ing Tolstoi's theory of art, we may at least believe that there
is a defect in the work of a gifted poet who has failed to
sing his way into our common speech and thought. We do
not complain that there are no trite quotations, brilliant
half truths, or soft sentiments in his writings, but that even
avowed lovers of English poetry have at the best a most
superficial acquaintance with his verse. Socrates was proud
that he had drawn philosophy down from the heights to the
home and to the market place ; the greatest musicians,
Beethoven and Wagner, appeal to no small circle of the elect
but to the most unskilled listeners; why does not Swinburne
stand with Tennyson and Browning, and even with Arnold,
in attracting all sorts and conditions of readers.?
The first impression that Swinburne makes on the reader
is one of unqualified admiration for his marvelous technique.
He surpasses every Victorian poet excepting Tennyson in
his instinctive perception of the music latent in our language,
and he gains many effects which Tennyson never approached.
The consummate ease with which he used the most difficult
rhythms and rhyme schemes ; the impetuous melody, or we
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC ^71
may call it, the full chorus of his verse, never faltering, never
lapsing into discords, is one of the miracles of English
literature. Thoroughly familiar with the poetry of Greece,
Italy, and France, he seems to have brought something
foreign into his own lines. We can not point out what it is ;
the heart of it aU is English; and yet we hear his poetry
with something of the sensation we feel in listening to a
foreign tongue. Generally when a poet strikes a new path
for himself, he astonishes by mere innovation ; it is the beauty
of Swinburne's innovations in English rhythms that makes
him conspicuous among modem writers.
He seemed to be master of all styles. A revolutionist, with
Hugo as his ideal, he wrote the most uncontrolled invectives
against the tyranny of Austria and Russia. He was
attracted by the roundel, one of the most exquisite of French
verse forms, and his poems of childhood written in that
measure have a surpassing grace and delicacy. More than
any Victorian poet he admired the grandeur and elevation
of the Greek ode, yet he feels equally the pathos of the simple
Jacobite ballads and imitates them, or rather, becomes him-
self a Jacobite and writes them. No description can do his
style justice, and we need illustrations. What a haunting
music there is in his Adieux a Marie Stuart:
" Queen^ for whose house my fathers fought.
With hopes that rose and fell,
Red star of boyhood's fiery thought.
Farewell.
" Queen once of Scots and ever of ours
Whose sires brought forth for you
Their lives to strew your way like flowers.
Adieu."
Could Tennyson better the melody of A Match:
" If love were what the rose is.
And I were like the leaf"?
Itn ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
From these simpler forms, Swinburne's music rises higher
and higher as an organist builds up his tone, drawing stop
after stop. We go from the Laus Veneris stanza struck off
at white heat, Meredith tells us, after reading FitzGerald's
Omar Khayyam,
" Ah yet would God this flesh of mine might be
Where air might wash and long leaves cover me,
Where tides of grass break into foam of flowers,
Or where the wind's feet shine along the sea."
to the more rapid measure of Dolores:
" On sands by the storm never shaken.
Nor wet from the washing of tides ;
Nor by foam of the waves overtaken.
Nor winds that the thunder bestrides;
But red from the print of thy paces.
Made smooth for the world and its lords,
Ringed round with a flame of fair faces.
And splendid with swords."
What variety in the metres of The Garden of Proserpine, the
Hymn to Proserpine, and the choruses of Atalanta, his
greatest lyrical achievement ! He never surpassed his own
" When the hounds of Spring are on winter's traces.
The mother of months in meadow or plain
Fills the shadows and windy places
With lisp of leaves and ripple of rain."
We go from his finest elegy, Ave atque Vale, to his great
odes To Athens and The Armada, which he rightly said would
decide his rank as a lyric poet in the higher sense of the
term. What a range from such a lyric as A Child's Laughter
to the ocean swells of the Armada ode :
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC 473
" 'They that ride over ocean wide with hempen bridle and horse
of tree/
How shall they in the darkening day of wrath and anguish
and fear go free?
How shall these who have curbed the seas not feel his bridle
who made the sea?
" Mast on mast as a tower goes past, and sail by sail as a cloud's
wing spread;
Fleet by fleet, as the throngs whose feet keep time with death
in his dance of dread;
Galleons dark as the helmsman's bark of old that ferried to
hell the dead."
Surely there must be whole pages of such writing that stamp
themselves indelibly on the memory, and yet — one may easily
try the experiment — these poems do not stay with us as the
lyrics of Shelley and Tennyson that almost memorize them-
selves.
In the case of Swinburne, facility of expression actually
harmed his work. His poetry is often linked sweetness too
long drawn out. Even while the reader is admiring the
vigorous sweep of the rhythm, the beauty of a phrase, he
finds himself unconsciously fingering the pages to see how
far he is from the end. By the North Sea is a typical piece
of writing; it contains many beautiful, even superb stanzas,
yet it would be much more effective if shorter. Again and
again in Swinburne's work we find not a progression of
thought or emotion, but merely a progression in the har-
monies of verse. His melodic gift misleads him. Carried
along by the music of words, he can not come quickly to his
climax; it is for this reason, chiefly, that he never succeeded
as a dramatist. Atalanta in Calydon followed the Greek
ideas of tragedy ; restraint was virtually forced upon him
with the result that the poem is his masterpiece.
In the dedicatory epistle to the first collected edition of
his poems, he speaks of his art as having its material more
]^^l^ ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
in common with a musician's than a sculptor's medium. He
tells us that "there is no music in verse which has not in
it sufficient fullness and ripeness of meaning, sufficient ade-
quacy of emotion or of thought," to abide the test of honest
criticism. While this is true in part, it is also a fact that
much of the finest verse appeals to the mind's eye as much as
to the ear. The sea is one of Swinburne's chief sources of
inspiration ; his rhythms have caught something of the sweep
and surge of its waves, yet the lines that bring the ocean
before our eyes do not come from his poems. If we compare
a stanza from In Guernsey with three lines from Tennyson's
Eagle, we illustrate the point :
" Across and along, as the bay's breadth opens, and o'er us
Wild autumn exults in the wind, swift rapture and strong
Impels us, and broader the wide waves brighten before us
Across and along."
This is felt rather than perceived. We turn to Tennyson:
" The wrinkled sea beneath Mm crawls;
He watches from his mountain walls.
And like a thunderbolt he falls."
Italy inspired him, but he has left us no such word painting
of the South as we get in a few lines of De Gustibus or the
opening stanzas of By the Fire Side. He writes much of the
earth, but not as one who treads on it ; he sees it as from a
cloud or as one
" blown with restless violence round about
The pendent world."
There is generally a vagueness in his pictures ; he was inca-
pable of such a definite and satisfying piece of word painting
as Rossetti's Silent Noon. This is a serious defect. There
is a profound significance in the myth of the giant Antaeus
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC ^75
whose strength was replenished each time he set foot upon
the ground.
There is a lack of human interest in much of his work.
The Armada ode is a magnificent composition, entirely
worthy of its great subject, yet we turn more frequently to
Tennyson's song of the bravery of Elizabethan seamen
because the ballad of the last fight of the Revenge shows us
what the great ode does not — a man fighting against over-
whelming odds. No one can be insensible to the tenderness
and pathos of Swinburne's poems on a baby's death, yet
how much more poignant is that little poem Dora, by Brown,
the Manx poet. Swinburne's verses do not bring death home
to us ; Brown's poem awakens almost a sense of personal loss.
There are many stanzas of impressive description in By the
North Sea, but we do not find the peasant or the sailor on
the shores of Swinburne's ocean. The interest in Robinson
Crusoe begins not with the pictures of a desolate coast, but
when a human footprint is seen on the beach.
Critics have emphasized the fact that Swinburne is the
direct inheritor of Shelley's revolutionary ideas and of his
love of liberty. Much like the work of the older poet are
such Hnes as :
" Yea, one thing stronger and more high than God,
Which if man had not, then should God not be:
And that was Liberty."^
yet Shelley in his lyrics comes closer to our experiences than
does his successor. There is too much of the lofty style and
too Httle of human nature's daily food. Though he writes
much of sky and sea, Swinburne appears at times as a recluse,
as one who lived in the world of books, in a world created
by his own imagination. It is because he did not lay hold
on life that Swinburne will never be ranked with the greatest
Victorian poets.
1 Thallasius,
i7e ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
III
We complained that the intellectual element is too much
lacking in Swinburne's work; this is the last charge that
could be brought against the two Oxford poets whose writ-
ings are the most evident and most attractive manifestation
of the reaction against the Tractarian movement. Arthur
Hugh Clough (1819-1861), a favorite pupil of Dr. Arnold
of Rugby ; a scholar of Balliol and fellow of Oriel, volun-
tarily left Oxford because he could not believe in the religious
tenets which officially he was supposed to hold. He trav-
elled in Italy, spent a few weeks in America, and was for a
brief period employed in the education department of the
Privy Council. He did not in his writings fulfill his brilliant
intellectual promise ; indeed Palgrave, in his sympathetic
account of the poet, suggests that he lived rather than wrote
his poem."^ His winning personality, so adequately praised
in Matthew Arnold's Thyrsis, never fully recorded itself.
Clough was a thinker rather than a singer, a moralist
rather than an artist. In the greater part of his writing
he did not pay sufficient heed to technique. His two sonnets
are feebly expressed ; the hexameter is used with only toler-
able success in his Bothie of Tober-na-VnoUch; while his
lyrics frequently offend the ear with trivial and even dis-
cordant sounds. To tag his rhymes he indulges in construc-
tions so awkward that the expression becomes inharmonious
and the thought obscure.
" Heaven guide, the cup be not, as chance may be.
To some vain mate given up as soon as tasted !
No, nor on thee be wasted.
Thou trifler. Poesy I"^
he exclaims, and he clearly neglected his art.
1 F. T. Palgrave, The Poetical Works of Clough, The Muses' Library,
I^ondon, Prefatory Memoir.
2 P. 11.
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC ^77
In the content of his verse, likewise, art counts for but
little. Both Arnold and Palgrave testify to Clough's great
love of nature ; to the latter critic, he seemed to have inherited
a double portion of Wordsworth's spirit. In a Lecture
Room, a poem that certainly recalls Wordsworth's "One
impulse from a vernal wood," decries "vain Philosophy" that
leaves the spirit dead:
" Unto thy broken cisterns wherefore go.
While from the secret treasure-depths below.
Fed by the skiey shower,
And clouds that sink and rest on hill-tops high.
Wisdom at once, and Power,
Are welling, bubbling forth, unseen, incessantly?"^
yet Clough does not delight enough in picturing nature for
its own sake. In the Bothie, that refreshing vacation
romance filled with the humor, the vigor, the idealism of
youth, there are many graceful passages picturing mountain
and glen, shaded pool and foaming water-fall, yet less gifted
poets have surpassed his descriptions of the beauty of earth.
What Clough saw chiefly was the world of the spirit.
Few English poets have been so deeply religious as Clough ;
in his most characteristic work the moral consciousness
reigned supreme. Living at a time when scientific thought
came in conflict with traditional religious belief, he felt it
his solemn obligation to discover what truth is. This was
the eager quest of his life. Intellectual honesty forbade him
to accept the tenets of orthodoxy ; the solutions off'ered by
the church for the never settled problems of human life and
destiny seemed to him insincere or inadequate. On the other
hand, he was never confident of his own conclusions :
" We! what do we see? each a space
Of some few yards before his face;
Does that the whole wide plan explain?"^
iP. 4.
2 P. 55.
^.78 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
With Arnold, he was a strange mixture of the sceptic and
one who would fain believe. As Professor Walker pointed
out, both poets felt strongly the attraction of the old faith
and the deepest tones in their poetry "are struck by just this
emotional sympathy with a creed which their intellect com-
pels them to reject."^
" Ah yet, when all is thought and said.
The heart stiU overrules the head;"^
writes Clough, yet he dares not trust his emotions. He was
determined to walk by sight, yet felt the necessity of faith,
and the result was uncertainty and doubt.
" O Good and Great,
In whom in this bedarkened state
I fain am struggling to believe,"'
shows him in a typical mood.
In discussing Byron, we noticed that his mood is remote
from our modern attitude of mind. So must we reluctantly
say of this poet whose world was infinitely removed from
Byron's. Whatever we may boast of the present age, we
can not say that the philosophy of religion greatly occupies
it. Our artistic sense has been highly developed; we love
nature and hve out of doors ; we are curious for new sensa-
tions, bold to the point of rashness, restless to the point of
vagrancy, but thinking too precisely on the spiritual event
is not one of our traits. On such matters, we prefer not to
think at all or to let some one else think for us. The average
reader is not torn by what Clough calls his "mortal moral
strife," for he is satisfied with an attempt to observe the
more obvious commands of the decalogue. Clough frequently
compares a man to a ship at sea, ignorant of its course ; we
1 Hugh Walker, The Literature of the Victorian Era, Cambridge,
1910, p. 453.
2 P. 50.
3 P. 9.
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC ^79
know precisely for what port we are embarked. He speaks
of the mystery of the world ; for us the problem has resolved
itself into a purely physical one which science is speedly set-
tling. Even when we abandon our materialistic vantage
ground and meet Clough, we wish him to fight his way out.
He has said
" 'Tis better to have fought and lost.
Than never to have fought at all,"
and while we assent to this in a general way, we enjoy a
victory. Surely the call of the world should be to something
more than
" To finger idly some old Gordian knot.
Unskilled to sunder, and too weak to cleave,
And with much toil attain to half beheve."'^
Such a poet sings to a small audience.
We have said that Clough was not confident of his own
conclusions, yet he did obtain to what we may call a residuum
of faith. There are two distinct phases of thought in his
poetry. In the first, as our quotations have shown, he is
struggling to believe. His questionings lead only to despon-
dency :
" But whoso ponders, weighs, and measures.
She calls her torturers up to goad
With spur and scourges on the road."^
He can find no abiding place and asks what home has one
"whose ship is driving o'er the driving sea." From this state
of mind, he emerges into the dawn if not the sunlight of
belief :
1 P. 60.
2 P. 46.
Jf80 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" Hope evermore and believe, O man, for e'en as thy thought
So are the things that thou see'st; e'en as thy hope and
belief.
" Go from the east to the west, as the sun and the stars direct
thee.
Go with the girdle of man, go and encompass the earth.
Not for the gain of the gold ; for the getting, the hoarding, the
having.
But for the joy of the deed: but for the Duty to do.
*********
" Go with the sun and the stars, and yet evermore in thy spirit
Say to thyself: It is good: yet is there better than it.
This that I see is not all, and this that I do is but little ;
Nevertheless it is good, though there is better than it."'
Our soul becomes entranced by what he calls the "bare con-
science of the better thing." The seekers for truth will at
last be united ; though we find at morning that our ship has
parted from the others during the night, we shall all meet
in the harbor. This optimism, quiet when compared with
Browning's, reaches its most convincing expression in
Clough's masterpiece, "Say not, the struggle naught avail-
eth." There is a more reticent faith in his finest religious
lyrics, "What we, when face to face we see," "0 thou whose
image in the shrine," and "O only Source of all our light,"
in which every syllable is deeply felt and pondered. These
are poems composed on the battlefield, and they strike home.
George Herbert, too, went through the valley of despair,
yet it was his faith in himself that was shaken, not his faith
in God. Clough pushed his doubts much further, and accord-
ingly the subjective element in his poems seems deeper. It
is this spirit, rather than their melody, that brings the poems
we have just cited within our field of study. Even in "0
1 P. 48.
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC 481
stream descending to the sea," or "Put forth thy leaf, thou
lofty plane," it is not song that we hear, but the lyric cry.
The poems of Matthew Arnold (1822-1888) were slow
in winning their way ; indeed, his first two volumes, appearing
anonymously in 1849 and 1852, were so little appreciated
that they were withdrawn from publication. To-day the
opinion is frequently expressed — and it is probably a correct
one — that though the greater part of his career was devoted
to his critical essays, his verse is destined to outlive his prose.
Certainly he offers in his poetry something that no other
Victorian singer has given us.
In the 1853 edition of his poems, Arnold published a criti-
cal preface that plainly foreshadowed his later writing. He
discloses in it his ideal of poetry. His admiration is all for
the "severe and scrupulous self-restraint of the ancients";
for their noble simplicity and calm pathos. He believes their
grandeur which so impresses him consists in their "unity and
profoundness of moral impression." Modern poetry is prone
to be incomplete, beautiful in detached passages, and hence
it lacks art ; its interests are too often temporary ones, it
does not strike deep enough into human experience.^ If to
this conception of the superlative importance of art and of
the intellectual content of verse, we link his famous precept
that poetry should be a criticism, that is, an interpretation
of Hfe, and primarily of the life of the spirit, we are prepared
to find in Arnold's own lyrics a chastened style, thought
rather than passion, analysis rather than imaginative intui-
tion. Such indeed is the case.
The poet was brought up in the tenets of the Church of
England. His father, Arnold of Rugby, was a man of deep
faith who exerted on his pupils a profound religious influence,
for he never doubted that he could point out to his scholars
the way of salvation. His son had no such confidence, for,
despite the beauty of the old creed and its appeal to the finest
1 The Poems of Matthew Arnold, Oxford, 1909, pp. 12-16.
J^82 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
emotions, he felt it outworn and yet knew nothing that could
take its place. It was inevitable that this temper of mind
should breed unhappiness and that his most impressive poems,
such as Dover Beach or the Stanzas from the Grande Char-
treuse, should be elegies on our loss of faith.
It would appear that the safety for a man of Arnold's tem-
perament would lie in raising the banner of a more liberal
and rational belief, and to have become the militant apostle
of a new faith :
" Hail to the courage which gave
Voice to its creed, ere the creed
Won consecration from Time."^
In his verse at least he can not do this. He is not sure
enough of his position ; he is sick of asking, "what I am and
what I ought to be." For this poet,
" Wandering between two worlds, one dead,
The other powerless to be born,
With nowhere yet to rest my head,"^
there would seem to be no creed but pessimism. He tells
Fausta that our vaunted life is one long funeral ; we are on
a dark plain where ignorant armies clash by night ; we hear
no voice to inspire us, for the kings of modern thought are
dumb. Our bane is a faltering course :
" Oh that past times would give our day.
Joined to its clearness, of their force !"
We may try to lose ourselves in "action's dizzying eddy
whirled," but we merely rush in vain over the whole earth,
" And never once possess our soul
Before we die.
All this is urged with intense feehng, yet with dignity. The
voice of the poet's muse is never shrill ; there is no hectic
ip. 277.
2 P. 272.
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC i8S
flush on her cheek as she gazes on modern Ufe with "unwaver-
ing, deep disdain."
Utterly removed from the querulous complaint of disap-
pointed pride or ambition, such writing should bring us to
a profound melancholy, yet such is not the case. Though
we may assent to many of his strictures, why do not these
poems leave us disheartened at the tragedy of life.'' The
answer seems to be that here, as in so much of his writing,
the emotional appeal is lacking in force ; in his own words,
he is
" Never by passion quite possessed
And never quite benumbed by the world's sway."
What Arnold said of Wordsworth is not true of himself,
"He spake, and loos'd our hearts in tears," and accordingly
while the effect of reading Arnold's despondent moods may
be disquieting, it is never discouraging. He does indeed
prick the iridescent bubble of our self-complacency, of our
irrational optimism, yet he rarely wounds us. The scholar's
mind, and Arnold was a scholar-poet, has a certain aloofness
from the drama of life. Despite his sincerity, we feel that
he stands on the hill of truth and watches the fighting
below ; that from the shore, he marks the sea of faith recede,
and that he is not the swimmer, borne out by the undertow,
struggling to make the land. In the Hayswater Boat,
Arnold pictures a battered skiff, with its moldering oars,
caught by the tide and sent drifting aimlessly down the bay :
" The rudder swings — ^yet none doth steer.
What living hand hath brought it here?"
It is perfectly easy to make of this a symbol of a wrecked
life, or even of mankind, yet we must read it into the poem.
Henley, as much of a romanticist as Arnold is a classicist,
has also written of an "old black rotter of a boat," stranded
in midstream, "with a horrid list, a frightening lapse from
line." As he looks at it.
4.Si ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" the good green earth seemed dying —
Dying or dead;
And, as I looked on the old boat, I said: —
' Dear God. it's I!' '"■
This strikes home with a sense of pathos that either was
beyond Arnold or from which he shrank. In general we feel
this lack of a strong emotional power throughout his poetry,
both in his imaginative and in his personal writing. Tris-
tram and Iseult may challenge a comparison with the best
of Tennyson's Idylls, yet the last interview of the lovers is
poorly written ; the emotion never rises to the tragic situation
and the very metre flags. Hamlet's self-analysis is accom-
panied with bursts of passion; Arnold's by melancholy.
So clear a thinker must discover some way of escape, and
as befits a devoted admirer of Wordsworth, Arnold finds his
message of hope in nature. After he has drawn in A Slimmer
Night a depressing picture of man's unmeaning taskwork
and his vain attempts to gain release from it — -"Madman or
slave, must man be one?" — the moonht heavens tell him that
man, if he wishes, may make his soul's horizon boundless. In
Self-Dependence, a voice assures him that man may attain
the tranquillity of the unafFrighted, undistracted stars that
pour all their powers in their own tasks :
" 'Resolve to be thyself: and know, that he
Who finds himself, loses his misery.' "
This doctrine is most beautifully expressed in one of the
noblest English sonnets. Quiet Work, which reveals Nature's
message to be "toil unsevered from tranquillity." It is man's
moral duty to see life steadily and see it whole, for whoever
does this will "think clear, feel deep, bear fruit well."
In this brief analysis of Arnold's chief lyric moods, we
have said nothing of his love poetry. He composed a small
number of love lyrics, songs of parting and meeting which
1 W. E. Henley, Hawthorn and Lavender, London, 1901, p. 61.
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC 485
if not commonplace are certainly not distinguished. Of these,
Isolation alone is worthy of him. As he writes of the loneli-
ness of our lives, he has discovered one of the finest similes
in modern verse — that of the two islands, once united but
now severed by "The unplumb'd, salt, estranging sea." The
beautifully wrought simile is characteristic of Arnold's
writing; two others, that of the tempest-driven mariner in
A Summer Night, and above aU, that of the Tyrian trader
at the close of The Scholar Gipsy, rank with the finest ex-
anlples of poetic illustration.
Though a more polished writer than Clough, it is the
subjective rather than the musical element in Arnold's verse
that places him among our lyric poets. As he avoided rich
and glowing description, so he shunned the melodies of the
romanticists. One of his sonnets declares that poetry should
be austere in speech, and many of his own unrhymed metres
err in this direction and lack charm. At his best, his verses
are finely modulated; the Forsaken Merman, on the border-
land of the lyric, is a triumph in its masterly changes of
metre; his sonnet on Shakespeare is a notable example of
dignified, lofty expression. For pure song, his finest is the
concluding lyric of Callicles in Empedocles on Etna; its
measure is a difficult one, but the lightly moving verses never
falter :
" Not here, O Apollo !
Are haunts meet for thee.
But, where Helicon breaks down
In cliflf to the sea."
The greatest lyrical achievement of Arnold is in the ode,
for surely the Scholar Gipsy deserves that title. Thyrsis,
his elegy on Clough, is full of the beauty of the country
about Oxford,
" that sweet city with her dreaming spires,
She needs not June for beauty's heightening,"
i86 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
but his sorrow for his friend is not expressed with as much
feehng as his lament for the men of his time, the "vague half-
believers of our casual creeds." The Scholar Gipsy contains
all the finest qualities of his poetry: his academic spirit, his
love of nature, his penetrating criticism of modern thought,
his unconquerable idealism — all expressed in his purest, most
musical, and loftiest style. If Arnold's fame were to rest
on any single poem, it would be this one.
IV
EHzabeth Barrett Browning (1809-1861) is one of the
strongest personalities of the nineteenth century. Though
an invalid from girlhood, she had no narrow outlook upon
the world and in Aurora Leigh eloquently asserted the sur-
passing interest and significance of the age in which she
lived. On the other hand, she saw its dark sides, she was
aroused by the cruelty and the injustice of modern social
conditions, and her Cry of the Children, reminding us of
Hood, is a stirring plea against child labor. An idealist,
neither her own suffering nor the ills of life could shake her
strong religious faith. Two countries — England and
Italy — were home to her and both aroused her loyalty ; when
the Austrians were driven over the border, no one felt more
keenly the thrill of patriotism that unified a nation. She
found her inspiration not only in Ufe hut in books, for she
was a Greek scholar and well read in English poetry. Thus
she had many of the traits and the gifts that go to the mak-
ing of a great lyric poet, yet because one was not granted
to her, very little of her work will endure. She lacked art.
Her study of Greek did not correct her imperfect sense
of form. We see this defect most plainly in her verse novel,
Aurora Leigh. It has a number of striking resemblances
to that most emotional of romances, Jane Eyre, and these
are not superficial incidents, but turning points in the plots.
For example, in both novels the hero's marriage is inter-
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC ^7
rupted at the very altar in a highly sensational manner ; in
both novels the hero is bUnded by the burning of his ances-
tral home. Jane Eyre, however, is much more of an artistic
whole ; it carries the reader along breathlessly while in Aurora
Leigh the action is neglected for over-lengthy dialogues and
discussions. The poem is fuU of keen and even deep comments
on society and human character; it has many phrases so
striking that they seem to have come from the pages of our
finest dramatists ; it is filled with passages of acute and
sympathetic description — an English garden, a London fog,
the Paris flower market, Florence seen from Bellosguardo.
All these fine qualities never hide from us the fact that the
story is weak in construction, diffuse in method, and super-
ficial in its character drawing. It lacks art.
Her lyrics show the same faults : they are long drawn out,
careless in diction, atrocious in their rhymes. Their thought
is generally slight and their sentiment is frequently too
obvious. In the song of imaginations, she is generally unin-
spired ; she is at her best when she writes of her own feelings.
The Drama of Exile does not show her finest work, yet its
choruses are such typical examples of the defects we have
mentioned that we shall cite one, supposed to be sung by
angels to the exiled Adam and Eve:
" Mortal man and woman.
Go upon your travel!
Heaven assist the Human
Smoothly to unravel
All that web of pain
Wherein ye are holden.
Do ye know our voices
Chanting down the golden.^
Do ye guess our choice is.
Being unbeholden.
To be barkened by you yet again ?"^
1 The Poetical Works of Elizabeth Barrett Brovming, Oxford, 1908,
p. 112.
^88 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
This must have made the expulsion from Eden doubly bitter.
It seems incredible that the same writer should have pro-
duced, even at a later period, such an imaginative and musi-
cal lyric as "What was he doing, the great god Pan."
The Sonnets from the Portuguese contain Mrs. Browning's
best lyrics. Here the form compelled her to come at once
to the heart of the matter; she chose the Itahan rhyme
scheme, and the result justified once again Gautier's advice
to the artist to select a difficult medium for his thought.
Yet even here the technique is never remarkable and fre-
quently lacks distinction ; the sonnets live because of their
emotional power.
Written for her husband, these poems are so personal, so
frank in laying bare her most intimate feeUngs, that they
give the reader a sense of constraint ; he is overhearing
whispered vows, he is profaning a sanctuary. Remembering
their history we can not view them coldly. In the presence
of this life of the soul, it seems pedantry to speak of art,
yet we must endeavor to forget the circumstances of the
composition of these sonnets and read them critically. Why
is it that we do not turn repeatedly to them.? It is because
all is emotion, and the tone of the writing becomes morbid;
it is because introspection is pushed so far that it brings a
cruel delight in self-abasement. Here again we approach
Jane Eyre's ruthless examination of her own worthlessness.
These sonnets have the atmosphere of the sick room in which
they were written and their feverish tone is too unrelieved.
It would be hard to find another sequence with so little de-
scription, by way of adornment or contrast, or as a means
of illustrating moods. Here indeed is a superabundance of
that emotion which the Elizabethan sonneteers lacked; in
fact she repeats an Elizabethan theme :
" Love me not for comely grace.
For my pleasing eye or face,"
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC 489
in "If thou must love me, let it be for nie," but her treatment
of it has nothing of the old simplicity and lightness of touch.
We have said that these sonnets live because of their emo-
tional power and yet we have made these strictures on the
feelings they disclose. This implies that the collection as a
whole is written at too high a tension; nevertheless certain
of the sonnets are worthy to rank with the best that England
has produced. The finest are numbers one, three, fourteen,
twenty-five, and above all, forty-three, "How do I love thee."
With these should be placed one not in this series, the sonnet
on Grief, "I tell you, hopeless grief is passionless." Her
simile of the desert may be an obvious one, yet what power
of suggestion there is in its three lines, while in the impressive
ending, her style gains an unwonted breadth and strength.
" Deep-hearted man, express
Grief for thy dead in silence like to death: —
Most like a monumental statue set
In everlasting watch and moveless woe.
Till itself crumble to the dust beneath.
Touch it : the marble eyelids are not wet ;
If it could weep, it woidd arise and go."
Where Mrs. Browning failed, Christina Rossetti (1830-
1894!), the sister of the poet of the House of Life, succeeded
absolutely ; in her work, form and feeling perfectly blend.
She wrote with ease; her thoughts sung themselves, yet
fluency never lowered her artistic standards. Her brother,
W. M. Rossetti, regrets that she was over-scrupulous in her
spiritual life; in her verse, this trait made her an almost
flawless artist within the restricted sphere of her work. There
are no needless rhymes, no unnecessary phrases in her lyrics ;
she gained her effects quietly, without one superfluous word.
Unlike Jane Austen in character, she resembled her abso-
lutely in her exquisite gift of selection and in her sense of
style. In her religious poems, especially in her carols, she
wo ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
has the naivete of the writers of our early English lyrics;
there is no pride, pomp and circumstance of glorious war in
her religious conflicts. While there is a love of beauty evi-
dent in all her work, it has nothing of the Pre-Raphaelite
color or sensuousness.
In her faultless sense of rhythm, she is worthy to stand
near Herrick, for though he had a broader nature and a
wider vision, she has his deHcate ear for the modulations of
verse, his endless variety of metre, and his economy of phrase.
Like Herrick also is her avoidance of the greater lyric ; short
and quick are her songs. Even readers who are not in sym-
pathy with her prevailing states of mind, are attracted by
the music of her lines. Forms that are old take on a new
cadence as she writes them; forms that she invents, surprise
us by their perfection, not by their novelty, as her lines to
France written in 1870, in which the same rhyme is repeated
through every stanza. Never master of the long, slow Une;
never building up a stately palace of art with Spenserian
verse, she is past master of the short song that completely
renders the mood by description or even by mere suggestion :
" I wish I were a little bird
Which out of sight doth soar;
I wish I were a song once heard
But often pondered o'er.
Or shadow of a lily stirred
By wind upon the floor.
Or echo of a loving word
Worth all that went before.
Or memory of a hope deferred
That springs again no more."^
Wordsworth affirmed that "nuns fret not at their convent's
narrow room," but dramatists tell us otherwise. Christina
1 W. M. Rossetti, The Poetical Works of Christina Oeorgina Bossetti,
London, 1904, p. 309.
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC 431
Rossetti, ascetic and mystic, was in character a nun; she
turned from the world believing it to be but vanity of vani-
ties. It is strange to read that her religious scruples made
her at eighteen turn aside from the theatre and opera, and
even from the game of chess; it is pathetic to read that she
parted from her lover because his religious ideals were not
her own.^ Not the enjoyment of life but renunciation was
her creed; several times in her poetry she pictures the Chris-
tian martyr in pagan Rome. She humbles herself ; she asks
for the lowest place — and yet from her convent's narrow
room, to use the image, she sees the beauty of the world and
loves it; she sees man's devotion and longs for it. It is an
old theme for a tragedy but it has lost none of its pathos
whether it appears in her sonnets Monna Irmommata or in a
slighter song:
" The door was shut. I looked between
Its iron bars; and saw it lie,
My garden, mine, beneath the sky.
Pied all with flowers bedewed and green."^
In some verse entitled Charity, composed when she was
fourteen, she has imitated, to quote her own words, "that
beautiful little poem Virtue, by George Herbert," and in
many of her later lyrics she frequently reminds us of him.
Like Herbert, she has a series of songs on the festivals of the
church and saints' days; like Herbert she is impressed with
her own unworthiness and struggles to gain peace. She did
not have Herbert's intellectual power ; she was quite incapable
of such a poem as Man, for instead of searching thought,
or obstinate questionings, she employs dehcate imagery or
vivid description, yet no religious poems in the language are
more penetrating than hers. If she is not more spiritual than
1 P. liii.
2 P. 320.
^92 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
Herbert in the temper of her mind, she is in her style. One
of her masterpieces, Sleep at Sea, depicts the indifference of
mankind drifting on to spiritual death:
" Soimd the deep waters : — ■
Who shall sound that deep? —
Too short the plummet.
And the watchmen sleep."
Herbert would have expressed this thought in a few closely
packed phrases or in a vivid metaphor ; her imagination is
so stirred, that the poem has caught something of the magic
quality of the Ancient Mariner as she sings of the sleeping
sailors and of the spirits that try in vain to rouse them:
" One by one slowly.
Ah how sad and slow !
Wailmg and praying
The spirits rise and go:
Clear stainless spirits.
White, as white as snow;
Pale spirits, wailing
For an overthrow."^
Vanity of vanities is its conclusion, and it is her own view of
the world. She longs for death because it brings peace.
There is no shudder as she writes of the grave ; with the sim-
plicity of the morality plays, she sings in Up-Mll of the
inevitable end.
Nature meant more to her than books or art. As she
made no attempt at a large philosophy of life, so she has
no desire to. picture the imposing aspects of ocean and moun-
tain. The wind, the birds, the fruits and flowers, are enough
for her:
IP. 155.
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC ^93
" My heart is like a singing bird
Whose nest is in a watered shoot:
My heart is like an apple-tree
Whose boughs are bent with thickest fruit;
My heart is like a rainbow shell
That paddles in a halcyon sea;
My heart is gladder than all these
Because my love is come to me."^
This lyric, The Birthday, is her one happy love song;
there is this same note of ecstacy in the opening of To-Day
and To-Morrow, but the mood quickly changes to
" I wish I were dead, my foe,
My friend, I wish I were dead.
With a stone at my tired feet
And a stone at my tired head."
Her fine sonnet, The Pause, with its happy ending, is not as
typical as "Remember me when I am gone away," "Come to
me in the silence of the night," or "When I am dead, my
dearest." In all these poems there is no bitterness or revolt ;
they are lyrics of resignation not of pessimism.
We may safely predict that as surely and steadily as Mrs.
Browning's fame has declined, Christina Rossetti's will grow.
Mrs. Browning had the larger mind and the wider interests ;
she attempted greater things, but her success was only a
partial one. Christina Rossetti's range is exceedingly lim-
ited ; all her work is in one tone, in one key, but her success is
absolute. She spoke of the author of the Sonnets from the
Portuguese as "the great poetess of our own time" ; so far as
the lyric is concerned, we may with more justice apply that
phrase to herself.
It is a natural transition- from the religious lyrics of
Christina Rossetti to the hymns of the church. Because of
their music and because of the memories they awaken, their
1 P. 335.
J^H ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
appeal is altogether out of proportion to their artistic merit.
A large percentage of the hymns in any modern collection
will be found to belong to the eighteenth, not to the nine-
teenth century, and if we contrast the work of Watts or
Newton with the religious lyrics of Heber, Keble, and Faber,
we shall find that the modern writers show more art in their
metres and in their descriptions, especially of nature, and
that they offer a more intimate expression of their doubts
and beliefs. On the other hand, their poems have less of the
sense of awe ; they are more personal and less sublime. In a
word, hymnology has felt the influence of the romantic move-
ment.
It would be rash to attempt to decide what modern hymns
wiU become classics, but a selection of the best and the most
typical of them would surely include "Forever with the Lord,"
by James Montgomery (1771-1854), "Holy, holy, holy.
Lord God Almighty," by Reginald Heber (1783-1826),
"Sun of my soul," by John Keble (1792-1866), "Abide with
me," by Henry Francis Lyte (1793-1847), "Lead, kindly
Light," by Cardinal Newman (1801-1890), "Nearer, my
God, to thee," by Sarah Flower Adams (1805-1848), "I
heard the voice of Jesus say," by Horatius Bonar (1808-
1889), and "Hark, hark, my soul," by Frederick William
Faber (1814-1863).
We shall consider as a study in contrasts four poets whose
works have nothing in common. It is a convenient and a
striking exposition of the wide range of the modern lyric.
The first volume published by George Meredith (1828-
1909) was a book of verse that appeared in 1851 ; his last
formal publication, A Reading of Life and other Poems, was
brought out in 1901. Thus for half a century, not satisfied
with his established reputation as a novelist, he was desirous
of being numbered among the great poets of his day. He
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC ^.95
had many endowments that justified this ambition. His
verse is marked by intellectual force, by a tireless energy of
mind, by imagination and passion. He has the dramatic
instinct and in Modern Love shows a subtlety of character
analysis that Browning, except in so long a poem as The
Ring and the Book, never surpassed. He is a nature lover,
but he does more than picture the woods and reproduce the
song of the lark; he has an original and an inspiring phil-
osophy of life that links closely the earth and man, her son.
With his equipment, there was every reason to presume that
he might rank with the chief poets of the Victorian age, yet
in aU probability very little of his work will endure. Many
poets have been forgotten because of style misapplied ; Mere-
dith will be neglected because of style unapplied.
He has written some of the most obscure poems of the
century. Compared with many of his pages, Browning's
most involved passages are fairly lucid. In an appreciative
and even enthusiastic critique of Meredith's verse, Mr. de
Selincourt suggests that The Sage Enamoured and the
Honest Lady "must be read at least twenty times" to be
understood.^ What baffles us is generally not the subtlety
or the profundity of the thought but an inexcusable viola-
tion of the simplest laws of composition. Needless inver-
sions ; confusing compression or omission of the connecting
hnks of thought ; the too rapid succession of metaphors ;
grotesque eccentricities of construction and diction — all these
faults are too plainly evident. Yet when he wished, Mere-
dith could write as all true poets must write, with a straight-
forward appeal to the mind and heart, and then his work
gained rather than lost in individuality. The Lark Ascend-
ing; A Night of Frost in May, the best of the sonnets;
Modern Love; Attila; France, December, 1870, compel our
admiration not at the twentieth reading but at the first. If
the study of poetry has taught us anything, it has shown
1 M. Sturge Henderson, George Meredith, N. Y., 1907, p. 243.
i96 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
that neither stimulating thought nor startling originality
of diction can take the place of clear expression. When
Meredith chose the wrong path, as he did too frequently,
he did so deliberately.
As Meredith's style was new, so were his rhythms. He
dehghted in avoiding measures proved worthy by long tradi-
tion and his poetry contains numerous experiments in metre.
In Modern Love, he uses, in place of the sonnet, a sonnet-like
form of sixteen lines. In this case, the innovation is a suc-
cess, but on the whole he does not show in his new forms the
poet's instinct for the line and stanza that alone fit his
thought. A sure test of a writer's sense of form is the manner
in which he varies the rhythm of a poem, as Tennyson does
in Maud or The Lotos-Eaters. Judged from this stand-
point, Meredith's odes, even France, show an absence of the
artistic sense. FitzGerald once said that Tennyson's In
Memoriam had "the air of being evolved by a Poetical
Machine of the highest order." This criticism would be a
fair one if transferred to many of Meredith's attempts to
discover new metres.
" When by Zeus relenting the mandate was revoked,
Sentencing to exile the bright Sun-God,
Mindful were the ploughman of who the steer had yoked,
Who : and what a trace showed the upturned sod !"
In this over-emphasis of accent, we seem to hear "the very
pulse of the machine," yet in this same poem are such musical
verses as:
" Water, sweetest soother to kiss a wound and cool,
Sweetest and divinest, the sky-born brook.
Chuckled with a whimper, and made a mirror-pool,"
for as his diction can be above reproach, so his lines can be
splendidly harmonious. From the Hymn to Colour we take
this imaginative stanza that would have delighted Spenser:
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC ^97
" Look now where Colour, the soul's bridegroom, makes
The house of heaven splendid for the bride.
To him as leaps a fountain she awakes,
In knotting arms, yet boundless: him beside,
She holds the flower to heaven, and by his power
Brings heaven to the flower."
yet we fall from this to cacaphony in:
" With thee, O fount of the Untimed ! to lead ;
Drink they of thee, thee eying, they unaged
Shall on through brave wars waged."
There is the same contradiction in his metres that there is
in his style.
The number of lyrics in Meredith's poetry is not large.
Occasionally he tried to write snatches of song, to give to a
mood or fancy light and graceful expression; we even find
him writing anapests — and they are poor ones. Two of the
shorter lyrics deserve to be remembered: Woodland Peace,
and Song in the Songless, so exquisite in its rhythm that it
resembles the best work of the neo-Celtic school. Of his
sonnets, the best are Earth's Secret, Internal Harmony, The
Spirit of Shakespeare, and above all, Lucifer vn Starlight.
Of the last one, we may assert that Milton himself would have
been proud to own it, for it has caught the exalted spirit of
his epic. It is sublime in its conception and magnificent in
its expression. Modern Love — ^his greatest work — is one of
the most subtle and moving tragedies in English verse. Its
"sonnets," dramatic and to a greater degree analytic, are
rarely lyrical; the lovers are no longer "beneath the singing
sky of May," and when we first see them they are struck by
" that fatal knife.
Deep questioning, which probes to endless dole."
Yet two of the "sonnets" at least, and they are among the
best of the sequence, belong to our study, "Mark where the
pressing wind shoots javelin like" and "We saw the swallows
^.98 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
gathering in the sky," two elegies expressing hopeless
despair. The first opens with a description of wind and
waves and has no parallel in English verse, and ends with
the agonising cry :
" In tragic life, God wot.
No villain need be ! Passions spin the plot :
We are betrayed by what is false within."
The second is equally poignant, for though it is composed
in a quieter strain it but shows the calmness of a spirit that
knows the fatal stroke will not long be delayed.
Love in the Valley is the best known of all his lyrics. When
it first appeared in the Poems of 1851, Tennyson wrote that
he had gone up and down stairs repeating it, and that he
wished it had been his own ;^ Stevenson has said that the
stanza beginning "When her mother tends her" haunted him
and made him drunk like wine. This picture of the young
girl seen against the background of the four seasons is char-
acteristic of Meredith's best work only in its original metre
and its vivid descriptions ; it lacks his incisive thought. We
would not say of it that "pure description takes the place
of sense," yet it would be even more of a masterpiece if we
felt in it more of the poet's mind. In its first version it con-
sisted of but eleven stanzas ; in adding fifteen more to it,
Tennyson felt that Meredith had spoiled it. We could ill
afford to lose some of the later stanzas, yet the poem as it
now stands is somewhat over-sensuous. If it surprises, it
also tires us by a fine excess.
In Meredith's odes there is no lack of thought, but the
shaping intelligence is not evident enough. They are full
of high sounding and imaginative phrases ; one discovers in
them any number of splendid individual lines, but the final
impression of such an ode as Napoleon is that of strength
ill used. France is by far the best of the series. It has
1 T. H. Warren, The Centenary of Tennyson, Oxford, 1909, p. 20.
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC 499
force, nobility of thought, and a lofty expression, but in
many a passage the spirit of song droops and falters. It
has the epic rather than the lyric quality.
Arthur O'Shaughnessy (1844-1881) had a metrical gift
which seemed to so excellent a judge as Palgrave "the finest,
after Tennyson, of any of our later poets." His first volume
was cordially received; he was given a place next Rossetti,
and critics believed that England had produced one more
poet to continue her great tradition of song. It was real-
ised that the substance of his verse lacked strength, but it
was hoped that the years would bring the philosophic mind
and that he would have something to say which would be
worth "the garment of perfect poetic speech," to quote from
a contemporary review. Time would give him a wider out-
look and a deeper sympathy with life. This hope was never
fulfilled.
Our great poets have had something new to offer us in
their style as well as in their thought and emotion. The end-
less variety of human experience will never be even partially
recorded in verse. O'Shaughnessy never had a firm hold on
life ; his forte lay in the other direction, in giving us dreams
and reminiscences of emotion rather than the emotions them-
selves. There is something exotic in all that he wrote :
" We are the music makers.
And we are the dreamers of dreams.
Wandering by lone sea-breakers.
And sitting by desolate streams; —
World-losers and world-forsakers.
On whom the pale moon gleams:
Yet we are the movers and shakers
Of the world forever, it seems."'^
To this band of singers he certainly belonged. His vein of
ore is a very narrow one and in the greater part of his work
I Music and Moonlight, London, 1874, p. 1.
500 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
we feel constantly disappointed at the poverty of the subject-
matter. He repeated himself too frequently and the critics
who heralded his coming, ended by pronouncing him insin-
cere. Every writer, if he has anything worth saying, repeats
himself but always with some difference in thought or manner.
After having written Hamlet's great soliloquy on death, we
should have imagined that Shakespeare never would have
composed another. In Measure for Measure he returns to
the same theme, but here the speaker is a coward and
Claudio's thrilling lines, inspired by a fear that destroys all
sense of shame, have little in common with Hamlet's thoughts.
We do not imply that O'Shaughnessy should have resembled
Shakespeare ; we point out merely that he lacked the dramatic
instinct which the finest lyric poets have always felt and that,
in consequence of this, he never varies his tone.
It has been suggested that O'Shaughnessy would have
achieved his greatest distinction by translating French verse
into English. He was well known in Paris ; he was a great
admirer of French literature ; and he had made many of the
Latin principles of art his own. He felt that England needed
more of art for art's sake ; "correctness of form," he wrote,
"is virtue. Beauty is all God's gift and man's mastery."
Despite this, he lacked the restraint of a true artist and his
lyrics are greatly improved by excisions. In the second part
of the Golden Treasury, a volume which missed Tennyson's
guiding hand, Palgrave has included seventeen of O'Shaugh-
nessy's lyrics ; no other poet, except Tennyson himself, is
represented by so large a number. Palgrave, however, has
not only printed practically every lyric of value, but has
skillfully condensed them. O'Shaughnessy's complete works
are a disappointment.
When we have praised the poet's music, we have said
the final word. It is all pitched in one key: it is plaintive,
dreamy, charmingly pathetic, but never poignant or inspir-
ing. His life was saddened by the death of wife and chil-
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC 601
dren and all his work is melancholy in tone. The Foimtain
of Tears; The Spectre of the Past, with its evident reminis-
cence of De Musset; even his love songs are written in a
minor strain:
" She entered with her weary smile.
Just as of old;
She looked around a little while,
And shivered at the cold.
Her passing touch was death to all,
Her passing look a blight:
She made the white rose-petals fall.
And turn'd the red rose white."^
In much that he writes we hear echoes of other poets. In
Love's Eternity is almost the converse of the Blessed Damozel,
for it shows us the lover, not the maiden, waiting in heaven.
Some lyrics have a suggestion of Poe; the Song of Palms
offers that beauty of description which Leconte de Lisle and
his contemporaries cultivated.
It seemed a fatahty that kept O'Shaughnessy from his
rightful place among the Victorian poets, for he could always
sing. In music we may listen entranced to a song in a
strange tongue; in poetry we are not satisfied long with
mere melody.
Coventry Patmore (1823-1896) began his poetic career
as an admirer of Tennyson. One stanza from The River,
written when he was sixteen, shows his discipleship :
" The sheep-bell tolls the curfew time ;
The gnats, a busy rout.
Fleck the warm air ; the distant owl
Shouteth a sleepy shout;
The voiceless bat, more felt than seen.
Is flitting round about."^
ip. 39.
2 Basil Champneys, Poems by Coventry Patmore, London, 1909, p. 402.
602 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
From this to his Odes is a far cry. If Patmore had con-
tinued to write in this style, many others would have sur-
passed him ; but choosing a new form and a firmer and less
florid tone for his lyrics, he disclosed an individuality which
will win for him as times goes on more and more readers.
Sargent took the poet as his model for Ezekiel in his
frieze of the prophets and there was an appropriateness in
this, for Patmore considered himself a seer and a teacher.
He believed that it was given to him to expound an old, and
yet for our days, a new doctrine of love. Ardent Catholic
and exalted mystic, he saw in human love a faint type of
the love of Christ for the soul. In his eyes, passion was
sanctified by this and he did not hesitate to depict it in some
of the boldest writing in our poetry. In this conception of
love, he is far removed from any poet we have considered;
he has something of Crashaw's spirit — though nothing of
his fluency, in the odes at least — ^but as a mystic, he soared
far beyond his predecessor.
If the eighteen poems in the second book of The Unknown
Eros are written, as he admitted, "in a dead language"; if
the analogies which he draws between the earthly and the
heavenly repel more often than they attract, the odes in the
first book come very close to human experience and thought.
Their realism is so true and so intense that we seem to be
taking part in a tragedy rather than to be hearing a poet
sing. There is nothing here of the fluent and shallow senti-
mentalism of The Angel in the House; here are no artful
dirges sung over Love's grave, but the cries of a stricken
soul. His wife's death inspired The Azalea and Departure,
two of the most pathetic poems in the language. It is a sign
of greatness that in Patmore's odes the simplest event gains
a significance which we attach to some unusual or terrifying
catastrophe. An azalea that his wife had tended, wakens him
in the night by its fragrance, after her death ; his little child
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC BOS
whom he had struck, "His Mother, who was patient, being
dead," puts by its bedside:
" A box of counters and a red-veined stone,
A piece of glass abraded by the beach
And six or seven shells,
A bottle with bluebells
And two French copper coins, ranged there with careful art.
To comfort his sad heart. "^
From these slight incidents, he has gained in the Azalea and
The Toys the most poignant effects. There is all the in-
tensity of Donne in Departure and as Gosse has remarked,
there is much of Donne's spirit in the poet's grief that he
heard no last good-bye; this afflicts him even more than the
thought of her death :
" But all at once to leave me at the last.
More at the wonder than the loss aghast.
With huddled, unintelligible phrase.
And frightened eye.
And go your journey of all days
With not one kiss, or a good-bye.
And the only loveless look the look with which you passed:
'Twas all unlike your great and gracious ways."^
Our quotations have shown the peculiar structure of his
odes, as irregular as any Pindaric but much more compact.
Gosse finds in them a resemblance to the Italian canzone,
though in reading them we miss both the song quality and
the beauty of phrase of the Italian. At times harsh in dic-
tion and grotesque in imagery, they have a sincerity of feel-
ing and a strength of tone that is all too rare in the lyric
of the present day.
1 P. 287.
2 P. 285.
60i ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
William Barnes (1801-1886) was a Dorsetshire clergy-
man. Self-educated, devoted to the history and traditions
of his shire, he was even better known as a philologist than
as an antiquarian. Above all else, he valued the dialect of
Dorset, pointing out with pride its superiority of vocabulary
and construction over English, of which it is a distinct branch
and not a corruption, and in Dorsetshire speech he composed
his best work. He published in 1868 Poems of Rural Life,
in Common English, but the collection as a whole is thin in
quality though it contained such lyrics as The Mother's
Dream (worthy of Blake), The Wind at the Door, Joy Pass-
ing by, and Plorata Veris Lachrymis which has the simplicity
of Cowper:
" How can I live my lonesome days.''
How can I tread my lonesome ways ?
How can I take my lonesome meal?
Or how outlive the grief I feel?
Or how again look on to weal?
Or sitj at rest^ before the heat
Of winter fires^ to miss thy feet.
When evening light is waning ?"'^
Sprung from the soil, Barnes thoroughly understood the
Dorset peasant. He aimed to reproduce not only his lan-
guage, but the turn of his mind and his very emotions, and
he succeeded. The metres of the poems are too skillfully
handled to suggest peasant song. Barnes is fond of employ-
ing the refrain, that favorite device of folk poetry, and the
ones he uses are the very simplest, "When birds be still,"
"Moonlight on the door," "Sleep did come wi' the dew," but
there is little of the uncouth swain in his rhythms. In the
content of his verse and in his language, Barnes is a realist
of the highest order; his poems are the truest pastorals of
the century.
1 P. 197.
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC 505
This is to infer that these lyrics of peasant life have a
limited range. Unlike the Corydons of Elizabethan pastoral,
these farmers hold no literary or religious discussions ; they
have no great ambitions, but are contented with "their
destiny obscure." They enjoy the flowers and the fields;
they appreciate the physical comforts of their homes; they
fall in love ; they weep over the dead. The simplicity of
these poems is equalled by their sincerity of tone; the poet
does not obtrude himself to explain or to moralise but seems
to be recording songs he has overheard. He is most effective
in his pensive moods :
" We now mid hope vor better cheer, (may hope)
My smilen wife o' twice vive year.
Let others frown, if thou bist near
Wi' hope upon thy brow, Jeane;
Vor I vu'st lov'd thee when thy Ught
Young sheape vu'st grew to woman's hight;
I loved thee near, an' out o' zight.
An' I do love thee now, Jeane."'^
There is nothing of the ardor of Bums in this ; although the
two poets have been compared, their natures were essen-
tially different.
The majority of writers use dialect as a mere ornament;
with Barnes, it is the very warp and woof of his verse. For-
tunately, as our quotation shows, the Dorset speech offers
no difficulties that might hinder the reader from enjoying
this "genuine, original, exquisite Singer."
VI
We have saved for the closing pages of the chapter two
writers of light verse. Whatever definition we may hold of
poetry, we certainly believe it must give pleasure. Judged
1 T. Hardy, Select Poems of William Barnes, London, 1908, p. 23.
606 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
by this standard, the Lyra Frivola which has ever added to
the enjoyment of life, deserves, if we may use the phrase,
our serious consideration.
In his anthology of light verse, Lyra Elegantiarwm,
Locker-Lampson, has given the best definition of this genre.
"Genuine vers de societe and vers d'occasion should be short,
elegant, refined, and fanciful, not seldom distinguished by
chastened sentiment, and often playful. The tone should
not be pitched high ; it should be idiomatic, and rather in the
conversational key ; the rhythm should be crisp and sparkling
and the rhyme frequent and never forced, while the entire
poem should be marked by tasteful moderation, high finish,
and completeness: for, however trivial the subject-matter
may be, indeed rather in proportion to its triviality, subordi-
nation to the rules of composition and perfection of execu-
tion should be strictly enforced The two qualities of
brevity and buoyancy are absolutely essential The
chief merit of vers de societe is, that it should seem to be
entirely spontaneous. At the same time, it is right to observe
that this absence of effort, as recognized in most works of
real excellence, is only apparent ; the writing of vers de societe
is a difficult accomplishment." The writer of light verse
must express his sentiment, his wit, his emotion, in a careless
tone but in the most finished form. He assumes a nonchalance
that he does not feel. Humor is no essential element in this
genre; indeed, light verse is more prone to cause a sigh than
a smile.
Locker-Lampson observes that though many poets have
attempted to compose light verse, they have produced little
that deserves remembrance. We notice that anthologists are
compelled to eke out their collections with poems that are
anything but vers de societe. The latest book of light verse
reprints Sidney's "Loving in truth, and fain in verse my love
to show"; Shakespeare's sonnet, "Who will believe my verse
in time to come"; Jonson's "Drink to me only with thine
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC 607
eyes"; Lovelace's To Althea and To Lucasta; Herrick's To
Dianeme and To Meadows; Blake's To the Muses and "Never
seek to tell thy love"; Wordsworth's The Tables Turned;
Browning's The Lost Mistress} Not one of these lyrics has
the qualities of light verse ; either their emotion is too strong,
their thoughts too far-reaching, or their art too elevated.
Typical examples of light verse are Prior's "Dear Chloe,
how blubbered is that pretty face" ; Gray's Ode on the Death
of a Favourite Cat; Cowper's Gratitude; Praed's Letter of
Advice; and to come to the period we are considering, the
poems of William Makepeace Thackeray (1811-1863) and
of Frederick Locker-Lampson (1821-1895).
The light verse of Thackeray possesses the qualities which
Locker-Lampson demanded, save one. His poems are con-
versational in tone, they touch the emotions lightly, but they
are not remarkable for their finish, though they are not
carelessly written. In Bouillabaisse, the poet sitting in a
Paris restaurant, an old haunt of his student days, recalls
his lost friends. It is the same theme that Lamb has touched
in The Old Familiar Faces, a poem too serious, too pathetic
for society verse; in Thackeray's lines the poet's reveries of
"the kind old voices and old faces" can not turn to melan-
choly, for "Here comes the smoking Bouillabaisse." In The
Cane-Bottomed Chair, an unhappy romance is lightly
sketched. We are taken to the bachelor's lodgings beneath
the chimney-pots and are shown his curios and belongings, the
most precious of all being "a bandy-legged, high-shouldered,
worm-eaten seat." It was here that "Saint Fanny, my
patroness sweet" once sat:
" It was but a moment she sat in this place,
She'd a scarf on her neck, and a smile on her face !
A smile on her face, and a rose in her hair,
And she sat there, and bloomed in my cane-bottomed chair.
1 R. M. Leonard, A Book of Light Verse, Oxford, 1910.
508 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" When the candles burn low^ and the company's gone,
In the silence of night as I sit here alone —
I sit here alone, but we yet are a pair —
My Fanny I see in my cane-bottomed chair.
" She comes from the past and revisits my room;
She looks as she then did, all beauty and bloom;
So smiling and tender, so fresh and so fair.
And yonder she sits in my cane-bottomed chair."
In his Letters to Dead Authors, Andrew Lang calls Thack-
eray the first of English writers of light verse, but consider-
ing the small number of poems he has given us, this is over-
praise. What little we have shows a fine and generous spirit
and a feeling that never verges on sentimentality. For more
such lines we would willingly exchange many pages from the
novels.
Locker-Lampson writes with the utmost regard for form
and finish ; every epithet, every rhyme is well considered, and
in this small realm of verse he is a thorough artist. His
London Lyrics have more wit and humor than Thackeray's
poems, for such broad burlesques as The Ballads of Police-
man X do not concern us. Piccadilly, Pali Mall, Rotten
Row are his Elysian fields, and he delights in the comedy of
Vanity Fair:
" Philosophy halts, wisest counsels are vain.
We go, we repent, we return there again;
To-night you will certainly meet with us there —
So come and be merry in Vanity Fair !"^
yet there is nothing of Worldly-Wiseman in his spirit. He
is ever on the borderland of romance, and tenderness, even
pathos, is not far distant when he writes of The Government
Clerk or The Widow's Mite. If it is but a step from the
1 London Lyrics, 7th ed., 1874, p. 33.
NINETEENTH CENTURY LYRIC 509
sublime to the ridiculous, it is but half a step from laughter
to tears.
Thackeray's Cane-Bottomed Chair has its counterpart in
My Neighbour Rose.
" Though walls but thin our hearths divide.
We're strangers dwelling side by side;
How gaily all your days must glide
Unvex'd by labour !
I've seen you weep, and could have wept;
I've heard you sing, (and might have slept!)
Sometimes I hear your chimney swept.
My charming neighbour !
The poet watches her grow from girlhood to womanhood ; he
sees from his window the coming of her hero,
"joyous twenty- two,
Who sent bouquets and billets doux.
And wore a sabre,"
and finally her wedding procession :
" What change in one short afternoon,
My own dear neighbour gone, — so soon !
Is yon pale orb her honey-moon
Slow rising hither?
Lady! so wan and marvellous.
How often have we communed thus ;
Sweet memory shall dwell with us, —
And joy go with her!"^
IP. 63.
CHAPTER TEN
The Lyeic of To-Day
Before we come to the poets who continue to-day the suc-
cession of lyrists, we turn to a group of writers who have
died but recently and whose works belong distinctly to the
present.
Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-1894) told in prose what
might well have been expressed in poetry. He recorded in
his essays and, above all, in his familiar letters the questions
and decisions, the discouragements and enthusiasms which
so often have inspired lyric verse. If all Stevenson's writ-
ings, excepting his correspondence, were to be destroyed,
his place among the English classics would be secure. His
letters possess the highest charm of style, a delightful fas-
cination in their self-portraiture, and an intense human
interest. We accept them gratefully, and yet we can not
refrain from wishing that he had turned more frequently
to song.
It is needless to enlarge upon Stevenson's consummate art,
his dramatic instinct, his child-hke love of life. Madame
Zassetsky's remark to him — "mais c'est que vous etes tout
simplement enfant" — was literally true ; he was fitted by
nature to write the finest child lyrics in the language.
Although songs of childhood had been composed before,
Stevenson's work is thoroughly original. Marvell and Prior
pay courtly compliments to a beautiful girl; Stevenson does
not tell us how a child looks, but what it thinks and feels.
Earlier poets had seen in childhood the age of innocency ;
they looked regretfully on their "angel days," and con-
trasted them sorrowfully with the darkened present. Steven-
THE LYRIC OF TO-DAY 511
son never treated youth as a foil to age. Other writers had
given to children a deep though unconscious spiritual appre-
hension ; with Vaughan the child spies heaven in a flower ;
with Blake it finds a symbol in a lamb. Stevenson is truer
to life.
We are all in turn romanticist and realist. In The Child's
Garden of Verses we find the contrast between the matter-
of-fact and the imaginative view of life. The poet under-
stood perfectly the tendency of a child's mind to link the
small and great :
" It rains on the umbrellas here.
And on the ships at sea;"
he is a realist as he describes the child's intense delight in
the flowers, the trees, and the wind. When the imagination
moves him, the boy does not dream of heaven, but is perfectly
content to make a boat of the bed, a ship of the stairs. In
every line is the zest of childhood, for Stevenson disdained
to mar the golden age with a touch of pathos, although
greater poets have done this. Many writers would have given
a different ending to The Sick Child in Underwoods. As the
thoughts in these lyrics are those of children — not one is
beyond their reach — so is the language, with scarcely a
phrase which a child does not use naturally. The art dis-
played in the diction is shown also in the metres ; The Swing,
Bed in Summer, Where go the boats. My bed is a boat, are
constantly set to music, for they are pure song.
In his other lyrics, Stevenson writes with the same clear,
simple style, with the same indefinable charm. There are no
flights of imagination or passion in his love songs, in "I will
make you brooches and toys for your delight" or Youth and
Love; there are no deep ponderings on life or nature in a
Song of the Road or A Visit from the Sea; even when he
writes of his own moods, as in the exquisite "Sing me a song
of a lad that is gone," the emotion has little in common with
512 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
the outpourings of the romantic school. These lyrics, written
with no stirring appeal, linger in the memory when many
greater songs are forgotten. At times Stevenson recalls
Herrick, as in the envoy to Underwoods; in many poems he
reminds us of MarveU's "witty delicacy"; but in his finest
lyric there is hardly a note caught from English or Scottish
singer. His Requiem is such a triumph of simplicity that
every word seems inevitable. In this unadorned style Word-
worth himself wrote nothing more moving and, knowing
Stevenson's nature, we may say nothing more true.
It is a far cry from the simpHcity and buoyancy of Steven-
son's verses to the poems of Oscar Wilde (1854-1900) and
Ernest Dowson (1867-1900). Modem life continually sur-
prises us with its studies in contrast, yet it would be hard
to find anything further separated from the Child's Garden
than the fleurs de mal of these two poets. Dowson's nature
was the more lyrical, but Wilde had by far the stronger and
the more brilliant personality and we shall consider him first.
Wilde's most characteristic work was done in prose, in his
frankly artificial comedies, masterpieces of sheer cleverness,
and in his greatest piece of writing, De Profundis, the
requiem of a ruined life. His verse shows neither the wit
and art of his plays, nor the pathos, the tragic depths of
his confession. In his earliest poems he followed a well-
beaten path when he wrote of Italy, but his best work, espe-
cially in his sonnets, describes not the
" purple mist and gleam
Of morning on the Apennines,"
but the gloom in his own soul. In a typical sonnet, Easter
Day, he draws two pictures, one of the "Holy Lord of
Rome" borne in splendor through the crowds, the other of
" One who wandered by a lonely sea.
And sought in vain for any place of rest."^
i Poems by Oscar Wilde, London, 1892, p. 50.
THE LYRIC OF TO-DAY BIS
The lines are picturesque, the phrasing is admirable, yet
we can not help feeling that what chiefly interested Wilde
was a striking contrast. In much of his poetry the art is
too evident, yet there is the ring of sincerity in E Tenebris
when he writes :
" My heart is as some famine-murdered land,
Whence all good things have perished utterly,
And well I know my soul in HeU must lie
If I this night before God's throne should stand."'
or in another sonnet in which he cries out against himself
because his life is scrawled with idle songs when he might
have trodden the heights and "struck one clear chord to
reach the ears of God." Equally sincere is Requiescat,
whose six stanzas combine the grace of Herrick with the
more intense note of modern song:
" Tread lightly, she is near
Under the snow.
Speak gently, she can hear
The daisies grow.
" CofBn-board, heavy stone.
Lie on her breast,
I vex my heart alone.
She is at rest."^
The downfall of Wilde produced both his greatest piece
of prose and his greatest poem. The Ballad of Reading
Gaol bears the stamp of genius. It is the most terrifying
poem of the century. We go back to the Elizabethans, to
the scene between Othello and Desdemona in the fourth act
of the drama, to find such shuddering fear, such a laying
bare of the brutaUty of life. To match its realism, we must
ip. 51.
2 P. 37.
5U ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
turn to the Russian novel. There is a grim irony in the
poem when we remember that its ballad metre was employed
by Rossetti in The Blessed Damozel. Here are no dreams
of Paradise, not even a ray of sunlight, but on horror's
head horrors accumulated. As a whole, this ballad can not
be brought within our field of study, yet throughout it the
feehng is so intense that the poet can not restrain himself
to a bald narration of the tragedy. The "lyric cry" has
become a hackneyed phrase, yet for certain passages in this
poem, it is the only one to use.
" In Reading gaol by Reading town
There is a pit of shame.
And in it lies a wretched man
Eaten by teeth of flame,
In a burning winding-sheet he lies,
And his grave has got no name.
" And there, till Christ call forth the dead.
In silence let him lie:
No need to waste the foolish tear,
Or heave the windy sigh:
The man had killed the thing he loved,
And so he had to die.
" And aU men kill the thing they love.
By all let this be heard.
Some do it with a bitter look.
Some with a flattering word.
The coward does it with a kiss.
The brave man with a sword l"^
In his sympathetic memoir of Dowson, Symons declares
that the poet was undoubtedly a man of genius, yet it is
hardly probable that time will confirm this friendly estimate.
1 The Ballad of Beading Gaol, London, 1898, p. 31.
THE LYRIC OF TO-DAY 515
After a short residence at Oxford, Dowson passed the greater
part of his life in France and the influence of French poetry
is perceptible in all his work. His master is Verlaine; we
should know it even though Dowson had never translated
one of his lyrics. In his best work, Verlaine was a subtle
invoker of moods and reveries, a musician who touched the
emotions rather than the intellect. By the harmony of his
lines, by a suggestion of some dim-described image "ou
I'imprecis au precis joint," he charms rather than inspires
us. His meaning is more often felt than apprehended. Thus
in Clair de Lime he compares a woman's soul to a landscape
fiUed with maskers, playing the lute and singing, and in the
closing stanza he tells us that their songs mingle with the
moon-beams :
" Au calme clair de lune triste et beau.
Qui fait rever les oiseaux dans les arbres,
Et sangloter d'extase les jets d'eaux,
Les grands jets d'eau sveltes parmi les marbres."
Every reader will have his own conception of this woman's
soul; on the contrary, there can be no doubt as to the type
of woman depicted in Wordworth's "She was a phantom of
delight." It is this power of Verlaine's to sing a song that
re-echoes in the mind, to write a lyric in which "more is meant
than meets the ear," that stamps him a man of genius. Dow-
son's lyrics are not so freighted with suggestion. Symons
believes that "he had the pure lyric gift, unweighted or unbal-
lasted by any other quality of mind or emotion ; and a song,
for him, was music first, and then whatever you please after-
wards, so long as it suggested, never told, some delicate sen-
timent, a sigh or a caress."^ His music, however, is too
faint; his delicate sentiments are not far-reaching in their
1 The Poems of Ernest Dowson. With a memoir by Arthur Symons,
London, 1906, p. xxvi.
616 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
appeal. Even when he translates Verlaine, the force of the
lyric seems to vanish:
" Qu'as tu fait, 6 toi que voila
Pleurant sans cesse,
Dis, qu'as tu fait, toi que voila,
De ta jeunesse?"
becomes
" What hast thou done, who comest here.
To weep alway?
Where hast thou laid, who comest here.
Thy youth away?"'^
The magic has gone.
The theme of Dowson's poetry is his own line "Exceeding
sorrow consumeth my sad heart." Driven by a suicidal
impulse to seek relief from the tadium vita in narcotic and
stimulant, he wore his life away. His lyrics are the poetry
of exhaustion :
"late I come, long after lily-time.
With burden of waste days and drifted rhyme;"
the verse of a man
" tempest-tost, and driven from pillar to post,
A poor worn ghost."
Nature appears to him in her mournful moods ; April weeps
because she knows that autumn and winter will bring all to
barrenness ; his garden is a garden of sorrow. Throughout
his work there is no relief and his last word is
" O pray the earth unfold
Our life-sick hearts and turn them into dust."
He sighs rather than sings; his best quality is a plaintive
music, a grace of expression. If any of his lyrics are found
in the anthology of this century, it will doubtless be his
ip. 139.
THE LYRIC OF TO-DAY 617
Non sum qualis eram bonce sub regno Cynarae, for it is an
epitome of all his work:
" I have forgot much, Cynara ! gone with the wind,
Flung roses, roses riotously with the throng,
Dancing, to put thy pale, lost lilies out of mind;
But I was desolate and sick of an old passion.
Yea, all the time, because the dance was long:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara ! in my fashion."^
Of the later Victorian poets, William Ernest Henley
(1849-1903) was the greatest personal force. Though a
cripple, he was unsubdued by physical suffering and fairly
flung himself into the literary and artistic life of his day.
London, The Scots Observer, The New Review, The Maga-
zine of Art, were all for a time under his management, and
though he was unsuccessful as an editor, he rendered an
invaluable service to contemporary letters by discovering and
encouraging new writers. He is said to have been the first
critic of distinction who recognized the genius of Meredith;
he was one of the first to welcome Kipling, who resembles
Henley in many of his qualities though he never equals him.
In the field of art, he fostered and inspired the critical writ-
ings of R. A. M. Stevenson ; he proved himself a valiant friend
and a courageous champion of Rodin. He ranged over a
wide field — art, music, the drama, belles-lettres— and the
seven volumes of his collected writings do not include all his
work. As a critic, he was interesting and stimulating,
though too often governed by his prejudices. He is seen at
his best in his essay on Burns, yet his most penetrating
and vigorous prose does not possess the intrinsic value of
his verse; it is for his lyric poetry that Henley will be
remembered.
With the writers of his generation, led by Austin Dobson
and Edmund Gosse, Henley felt the attraction of French
IP. 28.
518 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
verse forms. What Wyatt and Surrey could not do, our
modern poets have accomplished : they have made the rondeau
a perfectly familiar metre, and we may say as much of the
villanelle and the ballade. Even the Restoration writers, who
might be expected to look with favor on all things French,
cared nothing for these graceful measures. The two ron-
deaux of Cotton, the triolets of Carey, are but rare excep-
tions to their general disregard of French lyric forms. In
1650 there was published at Paris the Nouveau Recuml de
divers Rondeaux, in two parts. It did not inspire imitation
on the other side of the Channel, and not until quite recently
were there enough English rondeaux to form even a small
collection. Henley's poems in French metres are most suc-
cessful. His rondeau, "When you are old" ; his rondel, "The
ways of death are soothing and serene" ; his ballade On Mid-
summer Days and Nights and the one of A Tot/okuni Colour
Print, anticipating the Japanese poems of Noyes, have much
more than their finish and their style to recommend them.
They do not show, however, the real essence of Henley's
spirit.
In 1873-1875 Henley was a patient in the Old Infirmary
of Edinburgh. Unsubdued by suffering, he did not seek to
escape from his surroundings by a flight of the imagination
but with senses pretematurally alert, shaped the material for
In a Hospital, a startlingly truthful record of all he saw and
felt. Many of the twenty-eight poems in this series are
purely descriptive, such as the well-known sonnet describing
Stevenson. There are, however, a number of unrhymed
lyrics. Operation, Vigil, Ave Ccesar, Music, Nocturn, Dis-
charged, which showed unmistakably a new genius in English
song.' This uncompromising realist found nothing common
or unclean in the most dismal experience of the sick ward;
he fashioned his verses from materials that no one had used
before. Nothing that we naturally expect to find in lyric
1 The Works of William Ernest Henley, London, 1908, vol. I.
THE LYRIC OF TO-DAY 619
verse is offered to us. Instead of the scent of flowers, we
have the smell of the anaesthetic reaching "hot and subtle
through your being"; or when he is discharged,
" The smell of the mud in my nostrils
Blows brave, — like a breath of the sea !"
He listens not to the song of birds but to the tunes of the
barrel organ in the street or "at the barren heart of mid-
night," hears the dripping of a cistern. Other poets have
felt their hearts leap up at beholding the sky or the ocean ;
for Henley the "beautiful world" is in the spell of the streets,
the roar of wheels, the long line of grey houses. Elsewhere
in his lyrics he is the laureate of the city. He brushes away
all the conventions and traditions of EngUsh poetry and finds
his inspiration in the very pavements and the crowds that
throng them. His London Volwntaries are so lyrical, so
thrilled with his spirit, that they are odes. The Thames, the
Parks, Trafalgar Square in the glow of the setting sun, stir
him as deeply as Italy affected the romantic poets. In his
songs he never avoids the obvious happenings of life, the
common sights and sounds.
" I took a hansom on to-day
For a round I used to know —
That I used to take for a woman's sake.
In a fever of to-and-fro."^
As we read the lyric, the trivial first hne becomes as full of
meaning as Sidney's
" Having this day, my horse, my hand, my lance
Guided so well, that I obtained the prize."
Other poets have given us realism in the analysis of feeling ;
Henley brings us face to face with the most ordinary aspects
of life.
1 Vol. II, p. 38.
620 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
The French and Russian novelists have taught us that
men become disillusioned when they look too closely at life,
when they see things as they are and not through the veil of
fancy. At times realism has seemed but another term for
pessimism. The most insistent note in Henley is the joy of
life; this is his "brave, irresistible message."
" ' Life is worth living
Through every grain of it,
From the foundations
To the last edge
Of the cornerstone, death.' "
or again:
" Life-life-life ! 'Tis the sole great thing
This side of death."^
His lyrics fairly tingle with vitality. His song is boisterous ;
"they shouted it over the bar," he writes ; and surely it is in
no quiet mood that he declares "I am the master of my fate,"
or returning to his favorite theme, demands
" Life — give me life until the end.
That at the very top of being.
The battle-spirit shouting in my blood,
Out of the reddest hell of the fight
I may be snatched and flung
Into the everlasting lull.
The immortal incommunicable dream."^
The calm of the artist is not for him ; there is a superb sense
of motion and of force in nearly everything he writes. Such
a dream as
" Or ever the knightly years were gone
With the old world to the grave,"
1 Vol. I., p. 219.
2 P. 222.
THE LYRIC OF TO-DAY 521
has the same energy we find in his songs of the present:
" I saw, I took, I cast you by,
I bent and broke your pride.
You loved me well, or I heard them lie,
But your longing was denied.
Surely I knew that by and by
You cursed your gods and died.""^
Even in death he seeks no sleep, but wishes to be buried in
the sea that he may roam with the waves in "brotherly
unrest."
To understand Henley, so a critic has affirmed, we must
realize that his character was elemental and essentially primi-
tive. Certainly his lyrics reveal no complex nature ; in many
ways he was like a child and shouted for joy or cried for
pain. There is little reflection in his writings ; he does not
stop to ask himself why he has these emotions ; his songs are
accordingly the direct and impulsive expression of his moods
and passions of the moment. In their spirit, they remind
us of our earliest English lyrics, of "Winter wakeneth all
my care," and kindred poems, for though their expression
is more resourceful and more beautiful, Henley's poems have
the same outspoken delight in life and love, the same joy in
the coming of spring. He likewise resembles our first lyrists,
not in what we may call the art of nature, but in its life.
Though the poet of the city and its types, he too longed to
go a-Maying and sang of the country. He loved the sea
" that breaks and glooms and swings
A weltering, glittering plain;"
he believed that the earth "utters her joy in a million ways,"
and he heard it :
iP. 171.
ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" The nightingale has a lyre of gold.
The lark's is a clarion call.
And the blackbird plays but a boxwood flute.
But I love him best of all.
" For his song is all of the joy of life.
And we in the mad, spring weather.
We too have listened till he sang
Our hearts and lips together."^
He catches in a phrase the bit of sky or field, the moving
cloud or bird that delights him :
'^' Gulls in an aery morrice
Circle and swoop and close."
He is always the lyric poet and what he sees is not so impor-
tant as what he feels.
Henley believed in the joy of life and he lived his creed;
he never allowed disappointment, pain, or even death to
daunt him. He bids us praise the "generous gods" for
giving "unto all the joy of life"; he tells us that the very
sun seems glad to shine and that life should thrill us with
its bounty. The song he would have made of himself when
he is dead must tell that
" early and late.
Glad ran the days with me."^
When his task is accomplished and he is gathered to the
quiet west, there will be in his heart "some late lark singing."
Yet he felt the desolation of sorrow. There are no more
pathetic lines in recent poetry than the epilogue to his wife,
picturing his lost child calling to him across the grave.
1 Vol. I, p. 142.
2 Vol. II, p. 58.
THE LYRIC OF TO-DAY 62S
In one of his most ringing poems, Henley appeals to us to
" Think on the shame of dreams for deeds,
The scandal of unnatural strife.
The slur upon immortal needs.
The treason done to life."^
No such reproach could be laid at his door ; he found himself
and his own message. Whatever impulse he may have
received from Heine and Whitman, with whom he has been
compared frequently, he is one of our most individual poets.
If we consider their variety, he has written the finest un-
rhymed lyrics in the language; he has sounded a protest
against the over-refinement and artificiality of modem verse ;
he has enlarged the scope of the lyric. His songs, musical,
true in feeling, vivid yet simple in expression, are not as he
called them
" Poor windlestraws
On the great, sullen, roaring pool of Time
And Chance and Change."^
They are rather those enduring monuments of which many
lyrists have spoken but which very few have ever reared.
All that Henley represented made little or no appeal to
Francis Thompson (1859-1907). He had known the life of
the city streets and the memories of that "night-mare time"
haunted him, yet he seldom pictures it in his poetry. When
he writes of London, he sees not the men and women that
stirred Henley's imagination, but a Jacob's ladder "Pitched
between Heaven and Charing Cross." Thus he never throws
himself into the life about him, but seeks to escape it for a
world of dreams and high imaginings. He is a poet, to quote
his own line, who "lives detached days." If his early career
was unfortunate, he was peculiarly happy, as his genius was
1 Vol. I, p. 215.
2 P. 239.
52^. ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
unfolding, in being received into a home devoted to art and
letters. The names of Wilfrid and Alice Meynell are forever
linked with his, for without their friendship and inspiration
it is doubtful whether his spirit would have found utterance.
The first page of Thompson that one opens discloses a
highly artificial diction. He is an avowed beauty-worshipper
but never content with the beauty in the obvious or common-
place :
" I disdain
To count the beauty worth my wish or gain
Which the dull daily fool can covet or obtain."^
This is seen at once in his language. He is a seeker of
gorgeous phrases ; what Sir Thomas Browne was in prose,
he is in verse. Keats, we remember, looked upon fine phrases
as a lover, but his greater art kept him from that fantastic
revel of sound in which the modern poet too frequently
indulges. There could be no sharper contrast possible than
exists between Keats's exquisite picture of autumn "sitting
careless on a granary floor," and the personification that
Thompson offers us :
" Tanned maiden ! with cheeks like apples russet.
And breast a brown agaric faint-flushing at tip,
And a mouth too red for the moon to buss it
But her cheek unvow its vestalship;
Thy mists enclip
Her steel-clear circuit illuminous,
Until it crust
Rubiginous
With the glorious gules of a glowing rust."^
He compares his poetry to a treasure galleon and the simile
is an apt one, for he has plundered the riches of the older
1 Selected Poems of Francis Thompson. With a Biographical Note
by Wilfrid Meynell, London, 1909, p. 43.
2 P. 64.
THE LYRIC OF TO-DAY 525
poets and made them his own. At times he takes the whole
measure and Drayton's Shepherd's Sirena becomes his Car-
rier Song; at other times he has caught merely a striking
epithet. Yet though his diction is over-elaborate and his
thoughts correspondingly involved, back of it all is the ever-
compelling force of his feeling. This seems paradoxical yet
so is the appearance of such a spirit, a greater Crashaw,
in this day of realism, this age that prizes action above the
dream.
No description of Thompson's style can do it justice. He
may remind us at times of Spenser, of Donne, of Crashaw,
of Rossetti, yet his manner is distinctly individual. He loves
the pomp and pageantry of language. He employs the con-
ceit, as did the metaphysical poets, but his diction is more
magnificent than theirs :
" When, like the back of a gold-mailed saurian
Heaving its slow length from Nilotic slime,
The first long gleaming fissure rmis Aurorian
Athwart the yet dun firmament of prime. "^
A better example is offered by The Poppy :
" Summer set lip to earth's bosom bare.
And left the flushed print in a poppy there:
Like a yawn of fire from the grass it came,
And the fanning wind puffed it to flapping flame.
" With burnt mouth red like a lion's it drank
The blood of the sun as he slaughtered sank.
And dipped its cup in the purpurate shine
When the eastern conduits ran with wine."^
He writes often of nature but we are more interested in what
he thinks he sees, than in the sky or the landscape spread
before him. His style is at its best not when he seeks to
ip. 22.
2 P. 3.
526 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
reproduce the aspects of the outer world but when he ex-
presses thoughts and feelings so high or subtle that they
would seem to defy speech or when self-confession impels a
more direct manner. To see this, one has only to read those
superb lines from Sister Songs describing the child-woman:
" Wild Dryad ! all unconscious of thy tree.
With which indissolubly
The tyrannous time shall one day make thee whole;
Whose frank arms pass unfettered through its bole:
Who wear'st thy femineity
Light as entrailed blossoms, that shall find
It erelong silver shackles unto thee.
Thou whose young sex is yet but in thy soul ; —
As hoarded in the vine
Hangs the gold skins of undelirious wine,
As air sleeps, till it toss its limbs in breeze : —
In whom the mystery, which lures and sunders,
Grapples and thrusts apart, endears, estranges,
— The dragon to its own Hesperides —
Is gated under slow-revolving changes.
Manifold doors of heavy-hinged years. ""^
Equally beautiful, and more moving because of the personal
appeal, is the passage from the same poem in which he speaks
of his outcast days when he
" endured through watches of the dark
The abashless inquisition of each star,"
or his description of himself and of his fears in the Lines to
the Dead Cardinal.
There are obvious dangers in employing such a style. To
use the poet's own phrase, "My figured descant hides the
simple theme"; there is little song quality in these odes,
though there is music. As Narcissus became enamored of
his own image, so the poet is led astray by the sound of his
1 P. 26.
THE LYRIC OF TO-DAY 527
own voice. Thompson was an ascetic, the gospel of renun-
ciation was the word heaven spoke to him, but there is no
austerity in his verse. Though admiring it, we weary of its
elaborate imagery, of its revelry of color, of its "gong and
cymbals' din," and, to quote Watson again, we crave "a living
voice, a natural tone." Such a keen critic of nineteenth cen-
tury literature as Professor Walker even goes so far as to
question whether in the end Thompson's Hoimd of Heaven
will have the appeal of Daisy, one of his simplest poems,
almost Wordsworthian in tone yet nearer our own time in its
touch of mysticism, its far-reaching hints of loss and hope:
" The fairest things have fleetest end:
Their scent survives their close.
But the rose's scent is bitterness
To him that loved the rose !
" She went her unremembering way.
She went, and left in me
The pang of all the partings gone,
And partings yet to be."^
We have called Thompson a greater Crashaw and indeed
he surpasses him in brilliancy of technique as well as in the
significance of his thought. He has something of the earlier
poet's morbid spirit. He feels the call of the world yet he is
forbidden to enjoy it; he is to be beauty's hermit, gazing
from a cell on distant loveliness ; he believes that life unshared
was ordained him that through pain of loneliness his song
might be sweeter. Yet with Crashaw, he dreams of a sup-
posed mistress, but without his calm of vision ; with Spenser,
beauty is a religion to him, yet he has nothing of Spenser's
serenity. In his moods of dejection, like Donne he thinks
of his grave and shakes to the wind that waves the grass
upon it. He has not fought his way to the heights from
iP. 2.
ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
which he can look down with contempt on the kingdoms of
this world. An American critic has remarked that the poet's
distress "is aggravated at once by the impatience and uncer-
tainty of his faith, impatient in its clamour for the heavenly
rapture, uncertain whether this rapture is to be obtained
by a repudiation of the flesh or 'by that embrace of the body
and spirit, Seen and Unseen,' as he calls it."^ Nowhere is
this so poignantly expressed as in those stanzas in which he
asks whether his great desires are "food but for nether
fires," whether he must finally
" Through sacrificial tears,
And anchoretic years.
Tryst
With the sensualist ?"
This conflict between things temporal and things eternal,
between man and God, is most magnificently shown in his
ode. The Hound of Heaven, the flower of modern catholic
poetry. The theme, the pursuit of the soul by God, is no
new one. We find it in the Psalms; the very title is almost
suggested by a passage in Aurora Leigh describing Truth:
" I, Aurora, still
Have felt it hound me through the wastes of life
As Jove did lo; and until that Hand
Shall overtake me wholly and on my head
Lay down its large unfluctuating peace,
The feverish gad-fly pricks me up and down."^
If the theme be old, its treatment is new, for no English poet
has so combined a conception Miltonic in its sweep, with an
expression as beautiful and as personal as Shelley's:
1 P. E. More, Shelburne Essays, seventh series, N. Y., 1910, p. 160.
2 Seventh Book.
THE LYRIC OF TO-DAY
" I fled Hinij down the nights and down the days ;
I fled Him, down the arches of the years ;
I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways
Of my own mind; and in the mist of tears
I hid from Him, and under running laughter.
Up vistaed hopes I sped;
And shot, precipitated
Adown Titanic glooms of chasmed fears.
From those strong Feet that followed, followed after. "^
We may say confidently that already Thompson's place
among English poets is secure; whether it be so high a one
as his friends have claimed may well be questioned. Milton
has said that poetry should be simple, sensuous, and pas-
sionate. Sensuous and passionate these poems certainly are ;
they lack that highest gift, an inevitable simplicity.
John Davidson (1857-1909), after a brief career as school
teacher and clerk, came to London in 1890 to win his fortune
by his pen. It was a hard experience, the old story of worth
by poverty depressed, and it is significant that three of his
most pathetic lyrics are entitled From Grub St.^ He chose
to cast them in French forms and they are all the more
touching because we have associated the rondel and villanelle
with gayer moods. Though a man of infinite courage, over
much that he wrote falls the shadow of gloom and of tragedy.
He was an unsparing worker, he produced some twenty
books — novels, plays, lyrics — yet his audience was always
a limited one. Worn out by his tasks, believing himself to
be struck with a hopeless malady, he threw himself into the
sea.
Browning's line, "I was ever a fighter," might well have
been Davidson's device. The son of a Scottish clergyman, he
conceived it to be his mission to overthrow not merely the
stricter Calvinism in which he was reared but all religions,
1 Selected Poems, p. 51.
^In a Music Hall and other Poems, London, 1891, p. 25.
530 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
and to set up in their stead a new gospel, a new materialism,
though that word does not adequately describe it. This
became with him not simply a determined purpose but an
obsession; again and again he rings the changes on the
havoc wrought by Christianity. This revolt against accepted
belief appears in song and eclogue; it is set forth with the
greatest feeling in his tragic Ballad in Blank Verse of the
Making of a Poet, in which much of his own experience
seems interwoven.^ It led him far astray. He was a lyric
poet of unusual gifts. He felt the music, the witchery of
words ; he loved the colors and sounds of nature ; he was
inspired by the greatness of the present age ; he was exult-
ingly confident of man's progress and final triumph. Such
a temperament would find its best expression in song but his
doctrine of materialism made him in the end a preacher, a
controversialist, a bitter arraigner of society. In his last
volume, the lyric note had almost ceased.
Davidson's poetry possessed the rare combination of
strength and delicacy. It had a force and vitaKty which in
its best expression is positively thrilling. We feel this not
only in his oft-expressed rebellion against the modern order-
ing of life, but even in his pictures of nature:
" The adventurous sun took Heaven by storm;
Clouds scattered largesses of rain;
The sounding cities, rich and warm.
Smouldered and glittered in the plain."^
There is no better hunting song in the language than his
ballad of A Rwnnable Stag.^ We could imagine that the
stanzas came to him while galloping against the wind; in
their sense of motion at least they surpass Browning's How
they brought the good news from Ghent to Aix. The rush
1 Ballads and Songs, London, 1895, p. 7.
2 P. 53. A Ballad of a Nun.
3 Holiday and other Poems, London, 1906, p. 14.
THE LYRIC OF TO-DAY 531
and impetus of Davidson's verse is one of its rarest qualities,
yet he knew as few have known the woods, the flowers, and
the birds, and he sings of them in a spirit far removed from
the turmoil of his ballads.
As Wordsworth and his followers discovered nature, within
the last two decades a group of poets has discovered the
city, "London the unknown," richer than the ocean floor and
its treasure house, insolent and beautiful, a place of infinite
horror and despair, of infinite courage and felicity. David-
son was one of this band, for with Henley, who certainly
influenced him, he finds beauty in the thronged streets, in
the noise of the traffic, in the city half hidden in the mist
and fog, or bathed in the light of sunrise or sunset. Tenny-
son's great lyric has almost a counterpart in his song:
" ' Oh sweetheart^ see ! how shadowy,
Of some occult magician's rearing,
Or swung in space of heaven's grace
Dissolving, dimly reappearing.
Afloat upon ethereal tides
St. Paul's above the city rides !'
" A rumour broke through the thin smoke
Enwreathing abbey, tower, and palace.
The parks, the squares, the thoroughfares.
The million-peopled lanes and alleys.
An ever-muttering prisoned storm.
The heart of London beating warm."'^
In the last analysis Davidson is a realist rather than a roman-
ticist and he gives us not merely visions of the city but etch-
ings in which even its sordid aspects are not hidden. But
above the unfolding panorama of London, its vast power
stirs him; it is the living symbol of England's greatness to
this poet, as ardent a patriot and imperialist as KipHng
himself.
1 Ballads and Songs, p. 86, London.
532 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
The volume of Davidson's which has the greatest promise
of long life is his Fleet Street Eclogues, an unassuming little
book which, in English at least, has no rival. Here, in the
heart of London, at all seasons of the year, a few men meet
to sing of themes ranging from England's greatness to the
tragedy of heredity, for science deeply influenced this poet.
Whatever the subject may be, very shortly one and all are
chanting the praises of the country Hfe they have just left
and to which they long to return. Many pages of these
eclogues are merely a series of nature songs, for it is char-
acteristic that the beauty of earth moves Davidson so pro-
foundly that he can not describe it or moralize upon it — he
must sing it. Because of his creed, nature, matter glorified,
stirred him to his depths. He endeavored to put his most
enduring thoughts in his so-called Testaments. In the
Testament of a Man Forbid, the poet proclaims the worth-
lessness of art, philosophy, and religion :
" The rainbow reaches Asgard now no more;
Olympus stands untenanted; the dead
Have their serene abode in earth itself.
Our womb, our nurture, and our sepulchre.
Expel the sweet imaginings, profound
Humanities and golden legends, forms
Heroic, beauties, tripping shades, embalmed
Through hallowed ages in the fragrant hearts
And generous blood of men ; the climbing thoughts
Whose roots ethereal grope among the stars,
Whose passion-flowers perfume eternity,
Weed out and tear, scatter and tread them down;
Dismantle and dilapidate high heaven."^
For this he is banished from his fellows. Despairing, he
turns to the earth and finds a refuge in the hills that over-
look the sea, in the pageant of spring, in all the changes
1 The Testament of a Man Forbid, London, 1901, p. 11.
THE LYRIC OF TO-DAY 533
of the year. To no recent poet has the beauty of nature
brought more delight or more solace.
It is Davidson's misfortune that at times the fires of his
mind smouldered and did not melt the gold from the ore.
Merely from the point of taste, there are many lapses in
his work and there is need of rescuing the best from much
that was published too hastily. Time, the safest critic, will
eventually do this. Davidson will not be forgotten, for his
verse has much of that force which he admired in the hfe
of the city, much of that beauty which he discovered in the
life of nature.
II
Of the living poets, we shall consider but seven, and first of
all, Wilfrid Scawen Blunt (b. 1840). He is interesting
because so much of his work is in the sonnet form, which he
employs for narrative in Esther, and for a study of emotions
in the Love Sonnets of Proteus. More than any other metre,
it has brought out his best qualities. His Love Lyrics, writ-
ten in many different measures, lack charm, though one song
at least from this series has attracted composers. "Oh for
a day of Spring" is the exultant expression of a familiar
theme :
" Oh for a day of youth,
A day of strength and passion,
Of words that told the truth
And deeds the truth would fashion!
I would not leave untasted
One glory while it lasted."^
As a sonneteer, Blunt is not distinguished for his technique.
He believed that the Petrarchian rhyme scheme is not adapted
to our language and he accordingly invented a new one;
it has not found favor. The musical element in his verse is
1 Esther, Love Lyrics, and Natalia's Resurrection, London, 1893, p. 62.
5Si ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
the slightest one. We have noticed, however, that an intense
moment, a sudden vision of the imagination will often find an
expression that is ordinarily beyond the poet's reach and
there are times when Blunt's sonnets attain a style that is
admirable. To give but a single instance, the two descrip-
tive sonnets entitled The Sublime are well worthy of their
name.'
In the preface to A New Pilgrimage the poet regrets that
unlike the Italians of the fourteenth century, we do not
make the sonnet "the vehicle of our daily thoughts about
daily affairs as well as that of our profoundest utterances
in religion, love and politics." This he desires to do and he
accordingly gives us not a series of pictures but of expe-
riences. With a simplicity, a frankness, and a force, at
times disconcerting — for rightly or wrongly the Anglo-
Saxon is reserved where the Latin poets find nothing to con-
ceal— he tells in Esther the story of another des Grieux or
in Proteus shows another Manon. The ringing note in these
poems is their pitiless sincerity. Henley considered that they
disclosed more plainly than any other writing of the age a
poet's personality and experience.^ The simple and even
homely vocabulary ; the strict avoidance of the gilded phrase
or skillful epithet; the striking absence of studied contrasts
give to these verses the very impress of reality.
The Love Sonnets of Proteus are Blunt's best claim to
remembrance. This book, first issued anonymously, dis-
closed in the plainest speech a life not governed by
" a smooth and stedfast mind,
Gentle thoughts and calm desires."
On the contrary, he had "gambled with his soul"; he had
pawned his heritage; he had tasted the fruit from the tree
1 The Love Sonnets of Proteus, fourth edition, London, 1898, pp. 113-
114.
2 The Poetry of Wilfrid Blunt, selected and arranged by W. E. Henley
and George Wyndham,, London, 1898, p. v.
THE LYRIC OF TO-DAY 5S5
of knowledge of good and of evil and found it but poison.
He is sick and travel-worn ; he calls himself
" the latest fool of Time,
Sad child of doubt and passionate desires,"
yet there is no trace of Dowson's pale cast of thought in
these verses. With the intensity of Hamlet, he cries out upon
the
" Lame, impotent conclusion to youth's dreams
Vast as all heaven !"
He is a fatalist and considers man a foolish worm that can
not change its lot :
" Behold, the flower-pot
Of fate is emptied out, and one by one
The fisher takes you, and his hooks are blind."
The inevitable summing up of life is his exclamation "There
is no comfort underneath the sun." This, then, is the old
Weltschmerz expressed in modern phrase. Such writing has
the bitter flavor of Meredith's Modern Love; indeed, many
of Blunt's lines could appear undetected in the earher
sequence. His tragic conclusion
" We planted love, and lo it bred a brood
Of lusts and vanities and senseless joys,"
might be the text for both writers.
These sonnets are not aU despairing; they have at least
their happy moments. St. Valentine's Day, describing a ride
on the downs ; A Day in Sussex, praising nature the con-
soler; Gibraltar, thrilling with patriotism, show that the
poet can forget what he has called The Mockery of Life,
yet these moods come rarely.'
In a sonnet entitled On Reading the Memoirs of M.
D'Artagnan, Blunt longs to be a "ruffler in the camps of
1 Proteus, Nos. L., LXXVIII., CVI., LXIX.-LXXI.
5S6 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
Mazarin," and regrets that he was bom in these degenerate
times to a sad heritage
" Of fierce desires which cannot fate control.
Of idle hopes life never can assuage.""^
He would turn his steps backwards to escape the present.
Austin Dobson (b. 1840) dwells in "the past Georgian day"
and writes of an old Sedan chair or of Beau Brocade, not
because he is embittered and wishes to forget modern life,
but because he has made the eighteenth century his own and
moves in it as naturally as one to its manner bom. In his
prose, in biography and essay, he has shown us the life and
thought of that period; in his verse, he discovers for us the
poetry of an age we have considered eminently prosaic.
This implies that Dobson's verse is written in a library
rather than in the open air. He is a reminiscent writer and
appeals most strongly to one who knows Horace and Prior,
to those who appreciate the art of French metres. As Lang
has put it:
" A little of Horace, a little of Prior,
A sketch of a Milkmaid, a lay of the Squire —
These, these are "on draught' 'At the Sign of the Lyre !'
" A lai, a pantoum, a ballade, a rondeau,
A pastel by Greuze, and a sketch by Moreau,
And the chimes of the rhymes that sing sweet as they go."^
There is nothing of modern realism in such work. If the
pathos of life is there, its sordidness, its tragedies are care-
fully hidden. He would rather captivate our fancy and call
up delightful reveries than stir our feelings ; consequently
his appeal to the past has little that the romantic novelist
iNo. LXV.
2 A Review in Rhyme, in Grass of Parnassus, London, 1888, p. 62.
THE LYRIC OF TO-DAY BS7
offers us. No one is further from the pedant than Dobson;
he has always worn his learning lightly, and yet only a
student could have caught this atmosphere of old Paris or
old London, precisely as only the most careful workman
could have written his ballades and what are probably the
best rondeaux in the language.
All that Dobson has written possesses charm. "Assume
that we are friends," he tells the reader, and indeed he need
not have said it, for we are friends at once without this invi-
tation. He has Prior's gift of putting himself immediately
en rapport with his audience. This intimacy is increased by
his avoidance of the higher style ; there are few long flights
in his verse. He has understood perfectly his limitations as
well as his gifts; he is happy in his own realm and conse-
quently there is no unevenness in his work. More important,
there is no dull level of mediocrity in it, for in every line that
he writes, Dobson is an artist. This it is that gives to his
poetry its attractiveness and its value. The finest living
writer of vers de societe, he lacks Praed's wit and Thack-
eray's humor, but he surpasses both of his predecessors in
the finish of his work. He has taken to heart Gautier's
lesson :
" Leave to the tiro's hand
The limp and shapeless style;
See that thy form demand
The labour of the file."'
He has what Herrick called a "terse Muse." In all his word-
pictures, not a syllable is wasted ; in all his songs, there is no
meaningless note.
We have compared Dobson with Prior and in one point
especially these two poets resemble each other: the lyric is
not their chief form. Dobson's feeling is not superficial yet
1 Ara Victrix, in Old-World Idylls, London, 1893, p. 206.
6S8 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
it is not deep enough to demand song; there are not many
times when, to quote his own words,
■' the pent sensation
Leaps to lyric exultation
Like a song-bird from a grave."^
A Httle group of lyrics show what he could do when he wished
a more musical form — A Song to the Lute, The Ladies of
St. James, The Milkmaid, A Garden Song, A song of the
Four Seasons, and we must not omit the song in "Good-
Night, Babette !" for which he has provided such an exquisite
setting.
Andrew Lang is the most versatile of modern Enghsh
writers. He has won well-deserved distinction as an essayist,
poet, historian, translator of Homer, a writer of romances,
a student of primitive religions and folk-lore. Indeed what
has he not written, if we except the realistic novel to which
he is a sworn foe.'' He turns from fishing to the Homeric
question, from golf to Celtic mythology, and what is more
astonishing, he has invariably something worth saying. He
is the standing exception in our day to the rule that rapid
writing makes poor reading.
For his lyric verse, he has studied under the best masters—
the poets of the Greek anthology, Charles D'Orleans, Villon,
Marot, Du Bellay, Ronsard. If for nothing else, he would
be remembered for his translations. To give but three typi-
cal examples, it would be difficult to improve upon his ren-
dering of Ronsard's De Velection de son Sepulchre, Belleau's
Avril, and Du Bellay 's Chanson du Vanneur. His love for
French verse is reflected in many a poem; it is shown most
delightfully in his series of ballades, grave and gay, written
with the most facile pen. If not one of them is a master-
piece, Lang himself has pointed out that "no man since
1^ Revolutionary Relic, in At the Sign of the Lyre, London, 1894,
p. 49.
THE LYRIC OF TO-DAY 539
Fran9ois Villon has been immortalized by a single ballade —
Mais O'd, sont les neiges d'antanf"^
This poet is a skilled musician who can play deftly for all
moods. If the muse of Dobson wears an arch smile, the muse
of Lang indulges in heart-easing mirth. He knows just
how far to carry parody — what could be neater than his
answer to Jules Lemaitre's Britannia? — and his gayety and
wit have given him a place with our best writers of hght
verse.^ He has, however, never allowed his wit to rule his
poetry. To see his lyric style, one should read his Scythe
Song, a bit of pure melody ; Desiderium, a low-pitched dirge
that strikes home ; Alma Matres, one of the sincerest poems
university life has inspired; and Homeric Unity, his best
sonnet, though he does not admit it.' But the poet is at his
best when he plays on the old theme of romance. He loves
to linger in "Le Vieux Chateau de Souvenir," and proclaim
that "King Romance has come again." Two poems in this
mood will be long remembered : "My love dwelt in a Northern
land" and the less known Lost Love.
" Who wins his Love shall lose her,
Who loses her shall gain.
For still the spirit woos her,
A soul without a stain;
And Memory still pursues her
With longings not in vain !
" Oh, happier he who gains not
The Love some seem to gain:
The joy that custom stains not
Shall still with him remain.
The loveliness that wanes not,
The Love that ne'er can wane.
1 Introduction to reprint of Ballades and Rhymes, London, 1911.
2 Ban and Arri^re Ban, London, 1897, p. 45.
3 Grass of Parnassus, p. 55; Ballades and Rhymes, pp. 143, 139, 181.
5^0 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" In dreams she grows not older
The lands of Dream among,
Though all the world wax colder.
Though all the songs be sung.
In dreams doth he behold her
Still fair and kind and young."'-
The value of the lyrics of Robert Bridges (b. 1844) has
not been adequately recognized. On this side of the Atlantic
at least, he is known but by the few songs published in anthol-
ogies. His verse is certain to reach a wider audience and
eventually win for him a place among the foremost lyrists
of the whole line of singers. As he sings of reflection and not
of action, his appeal will never be a popular one. His quali-
ties are not of a kind to force a hearing and he has chosen
to live quietly, almost in retirement. Much of his work, his
plays for example, despite many fine passages scattered here
and there, have chiefly an academic interest, and it is possible
that they have somewhat obscured his songs. The second
volume of his Poetical Works is worth all the rest, for it con-
tains lyrics that Campion, Herrick, and Blake would have
been proud to own.
We are at once attracted in these lyrics by the exquisite
taste of the poet. He writes of the best in nature and life in
the choicest words that language can offer. He is gifted
with what seems an instinct for the right phrase, expressing
himself with a simplicity that partially conceals his art :
" — And every perfect action hath the grace
Of indolence or thoughtless hardihood — "
In this respect he rivals the best French stylists, yet his
sincere, serene, and lofty spirit prevents him from looking
upon his songs as mere bits of dull perfection. They are
i Ballades and Rhymes, p. 166; Ban and Arriire Ban, p. 24.
THE LYRIC OF TO-DAY 5U
never Emaux et Camees; even in his objective songs of nature,
we feel the man. He gives us both art and life.
The metrical charm of these lyrics exceeds their verbal
felicity. There are but two qualifying statements to be made
in this praise. Strangely enough his sonnets show little of
his best work, though they remind us at times of Spenser.
" AH earthly beauty hath one cause and proof,
To lead the pilgrim soul to beauty above:
Yet lieth the greater bliss so far aloof,
That few there be are wean'd from earthly love.
Joy's ladder it is, reaching from home to home.
The best of all the work that all was good;
Whereof 'twas writ the angels aye upclomb,
Down sped, and at the top the Lord God stood."^
This lacks the rare quality we perceive at once in the songs.
Again, the larger, broader style is not his and with all his
kinship with the Elizabethans, he never approaches their
"mighty line." He is our best interpreter of the metre of
Paradise Lost, yet he is not of Milton's school. To take the
positive side of the case, we have spoken of Campion.
Bridges far surpasses him in the resources of his technique
and is not already a classic because he is unfortunate enough
to be one of our contemporaries. Much like the author of
"Now winter nights enlarge" are many stanzas in Bridges's
second ode to spring; yet when he catches the cadences of
the Elizabethans, one never thinks of imitation. In such
a bit of melody as "I heard a linnet courting" he has all
their lightness, but with our modern feeling. "Crown Winter
with green" is but a trifle, yet it seems to have strayed from
Herrick's Hesperides. To complete our comparison, how
like Blake at his best are such poems as "Angel spirits of
1 The Poetical Works of Robert Bridges, London, 1898, vol. I., p. 263.
51,2 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
sleep," "Love on my heart from heaven fell," "The idle life
I lead," or
" My delight and thy delight
Walking, like two angels white,
In the gardens of the night."^
It would be poor praise to say that Bridges recalled the
work of past singers. He has a quality all his own, in the
feeling that informs his style. He is a beauty worshipper
and his creed is simply expressed :
" I love all beauteous things,
I seek and adore them;
God hath no better praise.
And man in his hasty days
Is honoured for them.
" I too will something make
And joy in the making;
Altho' to-morrow it seem
Like the empty words of a dream
Remembered on waking."
In the old metre so roughly handled by Queen Elizabeth he
sings :
" My eyes for beauty pine.
My soul for Goddes grace:
No other care nor hope is mine;
To heaven I turn my face."^
He finds the highest beauty in nature. He turns to the
fields and woods, not as did Davidson, to forget the city and
modem life and to discover a new philosophy, but in the
1 Vol. II., London, 1899, pp. 20, 160, 145, 137, 144, 241.
2 Pp. 123, 134.
THE LYRIC OF TO-DAY 5^3
placid mood of Walton. Even when this poet's spirit is most
delighted, there is a quietness and calm in his verse. He
seeks no inspiration from the past, nothing from France or
Italy, but finds England, with its clear and gentle streams,
its cliff-tops, its downs, its birds and flowers, a sufficient
theme for his best work. He does not shut his eyes to the
tragedy of life. If the Elegy on a Lady, whom grief for the
death of her Betrothed killed seems too consciously Eliza-
bethan, certainly the dirge
" I never shall love the snow again
Since Maurice died,"
and the most pathetic On a Dead Child are almost too poig-
nant.^ In general, however, the endeavor of this poet is to
give us the beauty of each season, of every glimpse of land,
or sea, or sky.
This beauty has no fatal dowry ; it brings the most exalted
happiness :
" But since I have found the beauty of joy
I have done with proud dismay:
For howsoe'er man hug his care,
The best of his art is gay."^
He invites us to leave our joyless ways. We are offered
more than we can enjoy; the days are all too short for the
"rare delight of mortal stuff." This intense pleasure in life
and in his own art is expressed always with serenity, with
nothing of "the wild joy of living." Here are no greater
happenings than can come to every one ; there is no adven-
ture, no conflict. We must simply open our eyes and we
may see what he sees :
1 Pp. 34, 187, 91.
2 P. 1ST.
6U ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" Then comes the happy moment: not a stir
In any tree, no portent in the sky:
The morn doth neither hasten nor defer,
The morrow hath no name to call it by,
But life and joy are one, — we know not why, —
As though our very blood long breathless lain
Had tasted of the breath of God again."^
He knows that there is an end to beauty, but there is noth-
ing of Shelley's lament in "I have loved flowers that fade,"
a lyric of Bridges that should be familiar to every lover of
English verse. He realizes that to attain to the highest
beauty and truth, one must "look not back nor tire." There
is no palHd aestheticism here, for he does not forget that
though "Beauty and love are nigh" life has its tempest,
flood and fire. He sums up his belief not in an ode, but in
the simple lines:
" Press onward, for thine eye
Shall see thy heart's desire."^
We forget the serene happiness of Bridges when we turn
to the poems of William Watson (b. 1858). Compared with
his older contemporary, he has a broader if not a deeper
mind ; he has a wider outlook upon life ; he is more a child of
the past. This is to say that Watson has so communed with
his great predecessors that he has caught a portion of their
spirit; we may say that he has inherited it, for he is no imi-
tator. As he himself proudly declares, he is thoroughly
English ; he deprecates the deference paid to the writers of
the continent and takes for his masters Milton and Words-
worth, and we might add, Arnold and Tennyson.' His very
finest writing is found in his interpretation and praise of
ip. 110.
2 P. 119.
3 To Edward Dowden, The Poems of William Watson, London, 1905,
vol. I., p. 149.
THE LYRIC OF TO-DAY 5^5
the dead poets. Among his best epigrams are the ones on
Marlowe, Shelley, Keats ; his elegy on Tennyson, a remark-
able piece of occasional verse, was the most adequate tribute
the death of the laureate called forth; while Wordsworth's
Grave is inspired criticism, surpassed by no English poem of
its kind. It is interesting to contrast its vivid pictures of the
Queen Anne age, of Gray and Collins, of Burns and Words-
worth, with the maxims of Pope's Essay on Criticism, for it
shows at once how much more personal, we may even say
"lyrical," has become the work of the modern critic.
Watson has stated that he owes most to Milton, "The
starriest voice that e'er on Enghsh ears hath rung," and
without even faintly suggesting a comparison, one may point
out his resemblances to him. His best sonnets are not love
poems, but intimate expressions of friendship or declarations
of his attitude on the political questions of the day. Like
Milton, he is an apostle of liberty, and the intense anger
of "Avenge, O Lord, thy slaughtered saints," is felt in Wat-
son's sonnets called forth by the Turkish atrocities in
Armenia. A good illustration of his Miltonic style is found
in Vita Nuova, a poem written after his recovery from an
illness that had clouded his mind. These lines have some-
thing of the dignity and restraint of Milton's references to
his blindness:
" I too have come through wintry terrors, — yea.
Through tempest and through cataclysm of soul
Have come, and am delivered. Me the Spring,
Me also, dimly with new life hath touched.
And with regenerate hope, the salt of life;
And I would dedicate these thankful tears
To whatsoever Power beneficent.
Veiled though his countenance, undivulged his thought.
Hath led me from the haunted darkness forth
Into the gracious air and vernal morn."^
1 Vol. I., p. 105.
5^.6 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
The more we read modem poetry, the more plainly we
perceive the abiding influence of Wordsworth. Watson
glories in it. He is no poet of the city which he would fain
forget, but of the tarn, of the sea which he has hymned in
elegiacs unsurpassed in English. He wishes that we could
hve
" more near allied
To cloud and mountain, wind and tide,
Cast this unmeaning coil aside.
And go forth free,"
for then we could
" hail the mystic bird that brings
News from the inner courts of things.
The eternal courier-dove whose wings
Are never furled;
And hear the bubbling of the springs
That feed the world.''^
Despite such stanzas, despite the rare enthusiasm and power
of his Ode in May, Watson's lines on Arnold are true of his
own work :
" The deep, authentic mountain-thrill
Ne'er shook his page !"
He has nothing of Wordsworth's confidence in the restoring,
the teaching inspiration of nature, but confesses that
beneath the dome of the sky or by the ocean he has "never
wholly been at ease." There is nothing of Wordsworth's
optimism in a poet who believes himself fated "among time's
fallen leaves to stray," and that inevitably "A want of joy
doth in his strains abide." He can not hold the faith of the
fathers and writes of The Unknown God. The church is out-
wardly splendid, but inwardly cold and dead as the moon.
iVol. I., p. 146.
THE LYRIC OF TO-DAY 5^7
" I wandered far in the wold.
And after the heat and glare
I came at eve to a churchyard old:
The yew-trees seemed at prayer.
" And around me was dust in dust,
And the fleeting light, and Repose —
And the infinite pathos of human trust
In a God whom no man knows."^
With Arnold, he feels that men do not know for what they are
striving. No account of Watson must omit his epigrams — ■
they rank with the best — and a single one of them — The
Cathedral Spire — is enough to show this mood.
" It soars like hearts of hapless men who dare
To sue for gifts the gods refuse to allot;
Who climb for ever toward they know not where.
Baffled for ever by they know not what."^
There is nothing of Henley's force or love of action, but
something of Clough in this poet's view of life. Our ideals
too quickly vanish and leave us resigned to our ignoble days ;
The Glimpse but leaves a man
" to carry in his soul
The torment of the difference till he die."
As these quotations show, there is back of aU that Watson
writes, a profound moral sense that gives to his work dignity
and nobility of tone. He has never courted popularity; he
is perhaps a little too disdainful of modern life and dwells
too much "In the cold starlight where thou canst not climb."
Nothing that he writes is careless or trivial in diction; im
iNew Poems, London, 1909, p. 112.
^ Poems, vol. II., p. 109.
6i8 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
style, as in life, he advocates "The things that are more
excellent." Much of modern poetry is to him an orgy on
Parnassus, and he turns from it to Tennyson :
" You phrase-tormenting fantastic chorus,
With strangest words at your beck and call;
Who tumble your thoughts in a heap before us ; —
Here was a bard shall outlast you all."'^
With his liking for the graver harmonies, and with his tem-
perament, his best lyrics are elegies. There is a certain
formaHty in the studied contrasts of "Thy voice from in-
most dreamland calls," "That beauty such as thine," "When
birds were songless on the boughs," that overcomes the song
impulse. On the other hand, writing in the elegiac strain,
such a descriptive poem as The Frontier — surely the equal
of The Autumnal by Donne, which Walton so admired —
becomes almost a lyric.^
There is something of Hamlet (though nothing of his
bitterness) in this poet. He needs a compelling force, a
high theme that shall engage all his gifts. He himself
expresses this idea in his sonnet Christmas Day:
" Fated among time's fallen leaves to stray,
We breathe an air that savours of the tomb.
Heavy with dissolution and decay;
Waiting till some new world-emotion rise.
And with the shattering might of the simoom
Sweep clean this dying Past that never dies."'
In nearly every respect, Rudyard Kipling (1865) offers
the most striking contrast to Watson. He cares little for
finish ; he writes not of books or of men of the past, but of
1 New Poems, p. 103.
2 Poems, vol. I., pp. 64, 79, 80 ; vol. II., p. 22.
3 Vol. II., p. 4.
THE LYRIC OF TO-DAY 6^9
the intense life of the present ; he prizes work above thought ;
he is a confirmed optimist. No poet since the great Victorians
has enjoyed the popularity that has come to him; at its
height, it must have resembled the eager reception given
Byron's works. At the present moment, his fame seems
undergoing an eclipse ; certainly his recently published verse
has proved disappointing, and critics seem convinced that he
wiU be remembered by his prose. This implies that the
attractiveness of much of the poetry has vanished. The over-
brilliant colors have faded; the over-emphasis has ceased to
be eifective — "The tumult and the shouting dies." We tire
of the Proverbial Philosophy of Imperialism and the trick of
the Barrack-Room Ballads, once learned, no longer catches
our fancy. There must be a complete readjustment of our
estimates of him.
Of all modem poets, Kipling resembles most closely the
old ballad makers. Their mantle has fallen on his shoulders ;
their swiftness and force are his, and he has shown in The
Last Rhyme of True Thomas his right to this poetic suc-
cession.' But the ballads can be superb in their simplicity
and vigor, because they do not preach ; when Kipling exhorts,
he can descend to doggerel. Love, war and death are the
themes which most surely inspired these old makers ; Eng-
land and the ocean are the best sources of inspiration for
this poet. Our English cousins are singularly fortunate in
their literature of patriotism. Since London was Spenser's
"kindly nurse," many a poet has sung of every aspect of
that city. Each English county, it seems, has its writer to
praise it, and there is a song for each mountain, lake and
beach. If we except a few poems by Whitman, no American
city has its singer, and our prairies, rivers, and forests rarely
have found verse makers. England, then, haunts Kipling's
imagination :
1 The Seven Seas, p. 115.
650 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
" She is not any common Earth,
Water or wood or air.
But Merlin's Isle of Gramarye,
Where you and I will fare."^
He sees her sending her soldiers and sailors, her explorers
and her colonists to all comers of the earth:
" Her hearth is wide to every wind
That makes the white ash spin;
And tide and tide and 'tween the tides
Her sons go out and in;
" And some return by failing light,
And some in waking dream.
And she hears the heels of the dripping ghosts
That ride the rough roof-beam."
We hardly associate delicacy and grace with his work, but
his style gains it when he writes of English flowers:
" Buy my English posies!
Kent and Surrey may —
Violets of the UnderclifF
Wet with Channel spray;
Cowslips from a Devon combe —
Midland furze afire —
Buy my English posies
And I'll sell your heart's desire !"^
The natural culmination of this spirit is his Recessional, the
high-water mark of his verse.
To Kipling, the sea is the great adventure ground of the
world, and he knows its power and its cruelty. What other
poet could have written The Last Chantey, The Bell Buoy,
White Horses, The Sea and the Hills, to name but a few of
1 Puck's Song in Puck of Pook's Hill.
2 The Sea-Wife and The Flowers in The Seven Seas, pp. 100, 111.
THE LYRIC OF TO-BAY 561
the best? He sings of the man-of-war, the ocean liner, the
sealer, the fisherman's smack, caught up in the sweep of the
waves, and we feel the very deck shake beneath our feet and
the spray dash in our face. If we could demand any one
thing of Kipling, it would be to abandon his sermons and
history in rhyme and to give us a collection of sea lyrics. It
would contain his finest writing and it would be unequaled.
Alfred Noyes (b. 1880) has not yet found himself and for
this reason it is hard to form a definite opinion of his work.
It arouses the keenest expectations and then disappoints us.
His style, at its best, is fluent and musical ; he has a sane and
healthy attitude towards life; romance and nature make the
great appeal to him. This is good but there must be some-
thing more — and the personahty we seek in the verse is not
there. He has written so much that he should write less ;
he has written so well that he should write better. When
we read him, we think now of this, now of that poet, which
implies that his verse lacks a character of its own. It has
little of the economy of thought and expression that mark
the best writing; it has none of those surprises, none of
those phrases that startle by their unexpected beauty or
strength. This does not mean that his work offers little of
interest ; it is rather an expression of regret that he has
not learned what Arnold has called the "austerity of poetry."
It is certainly a pleasure to hear him sing of the "cool of
the evening," of "Sherwood in the twilight," or of "The
World's May-Queen," "When Spring comes back to Eng-
land." His lyrics show his finest writing.
If, in closing our chapter, we attempt to generalize on
these latter-day poets, we shall find it a difficult matter, for
each is a law unto himself. They have enlarged the resources
of lyric expression, offering us such widely differing measures
as the most graceful of French verse forms and the vigorous
unrhymed songs of Henley. They have employed a style
as realistic as the modern novel can show, and they have
652 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
written with the grace of Herrick. They have searched
with the keenest vision for the shameful sights of city life
and sung of them with burning anger; they have shut their
eyes to the present and dreamed of the past. They have
discovered a beauty in sights and sounds that earher poets
neither saw nor heard; they have been content to rediscover
nature and to sing the old themes. They mourn their loss
of faith or are combatively pagan; they have the visions
of the mystic and the faith of a child. On the whole, they
have brought the lyric closer to our life. They are more
subtle, but they have not written with the force or the imagi-
nation of the older generation, for they are lesser person-
alities. They are too prone to dwell upon the moods of the
moment, and we are seldom caught up by the sweep of their
thought, the surge of their emotion. They have more than
talent but they have less than genius.
We have now come to the end of our long journey and we
pause for a moment to look back over the winding road.
We still retain the impression formed on the way that the
great age of the lyric, save for songs in the drama, is not
so far distant as the time of Elizabeth. The question that
comes to us now is not what the lyric has been but what it
shall be. Is the long succession broken.'' Zola had little of
the poet in him and it was, therefore, natural that he should
be the one to declare most positively that verse had given
its message and exhausted its resources. He believed that
it would die and that henceforth the realistic novel would
depict and interpret life for us.
If our study has taught us anything, it has shown us that
the very periods when song seemed dead were but the quiet
of the early morning before the day begins. The limited
accomplishment of Wyatt and Surrey was succeeded by the
Elizabethan lyric ; Shenstone and the Wartons are followed
by the romantic school. If to-day there is no great English
poet, it by no means follows, as we have shown, that our
THE LYRIC OF TO-DAY 553
verse is unworthy or that it points to the end. The great
spiritual gift of the English race is its poetry. Other nations
have painted finer pictures, written finer music, carved finer
statues. No people has produced such a band of inspired
singers. England can not forget what is in her very blood.
We may wait with confidence for her new lyric poet, for he
will surely come; if we may not, as least our children shall
hear him.
FINIS
BIBLIOGRAPHY
This bibliography contains merely a selected list. Editions
of the poets, together with the titles of critical works and articles,
will be found in the footnotes of the various chapters. Imme-
diate reference to these may be had in the extended index of
authors, editors, and titles of books (HI). At the present time,
when elaborate bibliographies of individual poets are constantly
appearing, it has seemed unwise for the purpose of a general
history to attempt a comprehensive scheme.
Works on English Metre. J. ' Schipper, Englische Metrih,
Bonn, 1881-1888; A History of English Versification, Oxford,
1910 ; G. Saintsbury, A History of English Prosody, London,
1906-1910 ; Historical Manual of English Prosody, London,
1910 ; R. M. Alden, English Verse, N. Y., 1903. Other useful
books are, H. Corson, A Primer of English Verse, Boston, 1 893 ;
J. B. Dabney, The Musical Basis of Verse, London, 190I ; C. M.
Lewis, The Principles of English Verse, N. Y., 1906; T. S.
Omond, A Study of Metre, London, 1907; English Metrists in
the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries, London, 1907; R. M.
Alden, Introduction to English Poetry, N. Y., 1909; C. F.
Richardson, A Study of English Rhyme, Hanover, 1909; B.
Matthews, A Study of Versification, Boston, 191I. A good
bibliography of articles and books on English metres will be
found in C. M. Gayley and F. N. Scott's An Introduction to the
Methods and Materials of Literary Criticism, chapter V, Boston,
1899. For French metres, see L. E. Kastner, A History of
French Versification, Oxford, 1903.
Chapter I. For the classic lyric, see A. Croiset, La Poesie
de Pindare et les lois du lyrisme grec, Paris, 1880; E. Nageotte,
Histoire de la poesie lyrique grecque, Paris, 1888; A. and M.
Croiset, Histoire de la litterature grecque, Paris, 1898. For the
modern lyric, see F. T. Palgrave, Golden Treasury of Songs and
Lyrics (Preface), London, I86I; T. - Watts-Dunton, article
"Poetry" in Encyclopcedia Brittanica; E. C. Stedman, The
Nature and Elements of Poetry, Boston, 1892; F. E. Schelling,
556 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
A Book of Elizabethan Lyrics (Introduction), Boston, 1895;
F. B. Gummere, A Handbook of Poetics (chapter II, Lyric
Poetry), Boston, 1898; F. B. Gummere, The Beginnings of
Poetry, N. Y., 1901 ; J. Erskine/^T/ie Elizabethan Lyric (chapter
I), N. Y., 1903; R. M. Alden, Introduction to Poetry (chapter
II), N. Y., 1909. F. Brunetiere, L'ivolution de la poesie
lyrique en France au dix-neuvieme siecle, Paris, 1894; R. M.
Werner, Lyrik und Lyriker, Leipzig, 1890 (a disappointing
work).
For the Old English lyric see F. B. Gummere, Germanic
Origins, N. Y., 1892; The Beginnings of Poetry, N. Y., 1901.
Cook and Tinker, Select Translations from Old English Poetry,
Boston, 1902, contains a brief but excellent bibliography.
Chapter II. For the early French lyric see K. Bartsch,
Altfranzosische Romanzen und Pastourellen, Leipzig, 1870;
Chrestomathie de I'ancien frangais, Leipzig, 1872; J. Brakel-
mann, Les plus anciens chansoniers frangais, Paris, 1891; A
Jeanroy, Les Origines de la poesie lyrique en France au moyen
age, Paris, 1889. C. Voretzsch, Einfuhrung in das Studium der
altfranzosischen Literature, Halle, 1905, contains a good list of
books. J. H. Smith's The Troubadours at Home, N. Y., 1899,
contains an extensive bibliography on the subject of Troubadour
verse; there is a brief but excellent list of the most important
books on this subject in Jean Beck's valuable La Musique des
Troubadours, Paris, 1910.
The best bibliography of the Middle English lyric is contained
in E. K. Chambers and F. Sidgwick's Early English Lyrics,
London, 19O6; there is also a good bibliography in F. A. Pat-
terson's The Middle English Penitential Lyric, N. Y., 1911-
Indispensable are Early Bodleian Music, ed. by Sir John Stainer,
London, 1901, and K. Boddeker's Altenglische Dichtungen des
MS. Harleian 225S, Berlin, 1878. The E. E. T. S. promises a
new edition of this MS. For the Planctus Marios see Englische
Studien, Vol. XVI, p. 124; Modern Philology, Vol. IV, p. 605;
H. Kiel, Ueber die englischen Marienklagen, Kiel, 19O6. For
carols see bibliography in Early English Lyrics. F. J. Crowest,
The Story of the Carol, London, 1911, contains a convenient
bibliography (Appendix D) of carols and music both in MSS.
BIBLIOGRAPHY 657
and print. To this list should be added, E. Rickert, Ancient
English Christmas Carols, London, IQIO; C. J. Sharp, English
Folk-Carols, London, 191I.
Chapter III. For a bibliography of writings on Petrarch,
see Luigi Suttina, Bibliographie delle Opere a Stampa intorno
a Francesco Petrarca, esistente nella Biblioteca Rossettiana di
Trieste, Trieste, 1908. For a brief bibliography, see P. De
l^o\ha.c, Petrarch et I'humanisme, Paris, 1892; G. Finze, Petrarca,
Firenze, 19OO; C. Segre, Studi Petrarchesci, Firenze, 1903; F.
De Sanctis, Saggio critico sul Petrarca, nuova edizione a cura
di B. Croce, Napoli, 1907; H. C. Holway-Calthorp, Petrarch,
His Life and Times, N. Y., 1908; M. F. Jerrold, Petrarca, Poet
and Humanist, N. Y., 1908. For the Italian essays and dialogues
on the nature of love, see M. Rosi, Saggio sui tratti d'amore del
cinquecento, 1889.
For the English lyrics of this period, see E. Fliigel, Neueng-
lisches Lesebuch, HaUe, 1 895 ; Chambers and Sidgwick's Early
English Lyrics. F. M. Padelford's Early Sixteenth Century
Lyrics, Boston, 1907, contains an excellent bibliography for the
study of Wyatt and Surrey ; see also W. J. Courthope, A History
of English Poetry, Vol. II, London, 1897. A short but most
excellent bibliography of sonnet literature is contained in Alden's
English Verse, chapter IV. For the vogue of the sonnet on the
continent, see J. Vaganay, Le sonnet en Italic et en France au
XVIme siecle, Lyons, 1902.
For the French sixteenth century lyric, see J. Vianey, Le
Petrarquisme en France au XVIme siecle, Montpellier, 1909. A
convenient anthology of the Pleiade is G. Meunier's La Poesie de
la Renaissance, Paris, N. D. See also H. Belloc, Avril, London,
1904; G. Wyndham, Ronsard and a Pleiade, London, 1906.
Chapter IV. Erskine's Elizabethan Lyric contains a good
bibliography of this period. See G. Saintsbury, Elizabethan
Literature, London, 1890; F. E. Schelling, A Book of Eliza-
bethan Lyrics. For the sonnet sequences, see Sidney Lee, Eliza-
bethan Sonnets in the re-issue of Arber's English Garner, Lon-
don, N. D. ; A. H. Upham, The French Influence in English Lit-
erature from the Accession of Elizabeth to the Restoration, N. Y.,
1908; Sidney Lee, The French Renaissance in England, chapter
558 ENGLISH LYRICAL POETRY
IV, London, 191O. See also the important articles by L. E.
Kastner in the Modern Language Review, 1907-1909- For
Shakespeare's sonnets, see Sidney Lee, Life of William Shakes-
peare, London, 1898; Introduction to Shakespeare's Sonnets,
being a reproduction in facsimile of the first edition, Oxford,
1905; E. Dowden, The Sonnets of William Shakespeare, London,
1881; H. C. Beeching, The Sonnets of Shakespeare, Boston,
1904; J. Jusserand, A Literary History of the English People,
Vol. Ill, part II, N. Y., 1909-
For the Elizabethan song, see the collections edited by Bullen.
Interesting essays upon the nature of these songs are to be found
in J. A. Symonds^ In the Key of Blue and other Prose Essays,
London, 1893; H. A. Beers, Points at Issue, N. Y., 1904. See
also T. Oliphant, La Musa Madrigalesca, London, 1837; F. A.
Cox, English Madrigals in the Time of Shakespeare, London,
N. D. W. Bolle, Die gedruckten englischen Liederbucher bis
1600, Berlin, 1903. For the music, E. F. Rimbault, A Biblio-
graphical Account of the Musical and Poetical Works published
in England during the 16th and 17th centuries, London, 1847;
E. Walker, The History of Music in England, chapter IV,
Oxford, 1907; E. W. Naylor, An Elizabethan Virginal Book,
London, 1905, contains interesting examples of and comments
upon Elizabethan music. See also V. Jackson, English Melodies
from the 13th to the 18th Century, London, 191O.
Chapter V. E. Gosse, Seventeenth Century Studies, London,
1883; G. Saintsbury, Elizabethan Literature, London, 1890;
F. E. Schelling, A Book of Seventeenth Century Lyrics, Boston,
1899- For Cavalier Lyrics, see Charles Mackay, The Cavalier
Songs and Ballads of England, London, 1863; The Jacobite
Ballads of Scotland, London, 1863. There is a brief bibliography
for Herrick in E. E. Hale, Selections from the Poetry of Robert
Herrick, Boston, 1895. See also F. W. Moorman, Robert Her-
rick, London, 1910. For other books on this period, the reader
is again referred to the footnotes of the chapter.
Chapter VI. E. Gosse, Eighteenth Century Literature,
London, 1889; R. Garnett, The Age of Dryden, London, 1895.
See Johnson's Lives of the Poets. Little has been written on the
minor lyrists of this period; generally they are treated as in
BIBLIOGRAPHY 559
Thomas Longueville's gossipy Rochester and other Literary
Rakes of the Court of Charles II, London, 1902.
Chapter VII. T. S. Perry, English Literature in the
Eighteenth Century, N. Y., 1883; W. L. Phelps, The Begin-
nings of the English Romantic Movement, Boston, 1893; W.
Minto, The Literature of the Georgian Era (new edition), N. Y.,
1 895 ; G. Saintsbury, Nineteenth Century Literature, London,
1896; H. A. Beers, A History of English Romanticism in the
Eighteenth Century, N. Y., 1899.
Chapters VIII and IX. H. A. Beers, A History of English
Romanticism in the Nineteenth Century, N. Y., 1901; A.
Symons, The Romantic Movement in English Poetry, London,
1909; Hugh Walker, The Literature of the Victorian Era, Cam-
bridge, 1910.
Chapter X. W. Archer, Poets of the Younger Generation,
London, 1902; A. Symons, Studies in Prose and Verse, N. Y.,
1905.
INDEX I
Inbex of First Lines Quoted in the Text
A babe is born 87
A face that should content me 126 n
A flock of sheep that leisurely pass by 397
A slumber did my spirit steal 395
A sonnet is a moment's monument 461
A sunny shaft did I behold 400
A sweet disorder in the dress 266
Abide with me 494
Absense of yeu 93
Absent from thee I languish still 326
Ae fond kiss 220, 389, 412
Ah Chloris ! that I now could sit 324
Ah ! Chloris, 'tis time 322
Ah fading joy I 318
Ah, sweet Content ! 158
Ah were she pitiful 200
Ah ! what a weary race 365
Ah, what is love? 200
Al gold Jonet is thin her 48
Alas ! have I not pain enough ? 152
All along the valley 450
AU earthly beauty hath one cause 541
AU in the Downs 343
All my past life 326
All the flowers of the Spring 206
Alle that beoth of huerte trewe 54
Amor, che nel penser mio 121
And let me the canaldn clink, clink t 205
And thou art dead as yoimg and fair 405
And wilt thou leave me thus ? 125
Angel spirits of sleep 541
April is in my mistress' face 217
A qualunque animale 102
Art thou pale for weariness 156 n
Art thou poor 205
As Chloe came into the room 342
As god of heven 80
As on a bank I sat 295
As one who, long by wasting sickness worn 391
B6S INDEX
As slow our ship 435
As through the land at eve we went 445, 451
Ase y me rod 61
Ask me no more 451
Ask me no more where Jove bestows 251, 451 n
At beauty's bar 143
At the midnight in the silence of the sleep-time 458
Avenge, O, Lord, thy slaughtered saints 298, 545
Awake, my soul, and with the sun 369
Ay, ay, O, ay — the winds that bend the briar 451
Ay, besherewe you 96
Back and side go bare 117
Be pes, ye make me spill my ale 89
Beauty, sweet love , 162
Before the dread j ourney 19
Behold, dear mistress 147
Believe me, if all those endearing young charms 435
Belle Aliz matin leva 34
Bid me to live 330
Birds in the high wood calling 451
Blame not my lute 126 n
Blow, blow thou winter wind 207
Blow high, blow low, let tempests tear 367
Break, break, break 450
Bright star ! would I were steadfast 425
Bright was the morning 335
Buy my English posies ! 550
Bytuene mersh ant aueril 60
Call for the robin-redbreast 206
Care-charmer Sleep ! 162
Celeste forma ISO n
C'est la fins, koi que nus die 36
Chiare, fresche e dolci aeque 105, 123
Clear Ankor, on whose silver-sanded shore 163
Come leave the loathed stage 227
Come live with me (Marlowe) 201
Come live with me (Donne) 235
Come over the woodes 112
Come pass about the bowl to me 261
Come, shadow of my end 217
Come Sleep! O Sleep! 155
Come to me in the silence of the night 493
Come unto these yellow sands 207
INDEX B6S
Come, ye disconsolate 437
Conceit begotten by the eyes 194
Crown Winter with green 54]
Cupid and my Campaspe played 151, 204
De ma dame vxdl chanter 43
Dear Chloe, how blubbered is that pretty face ! 340, 507
Dear, if you change 218
Dear, why should you command me to my rest 163
Del mar Tirreno alia sinistra riva 107
Disdain me not 126 n
Dormi, fill, dormi ! 36
Drink to me only with thine eyes 232, 266, 506
Dronken, dronken, y-dronken 48
Edi beo thu heuene queue 49
En mai an douz tens nouvel 33
Entre le boeuf et I'Sne gris 39
Era il giorno 134 n
Even such is Time 195
Evermore in mine ears 417
Far, far away, O ye. Halcyons of Memory 411
Farewell ! thou art too dear 157
Fair and fair 200
Fair stood the wind for France 187
Fayr and discrete 93
For her gait 243
For love Apollo 133 n
Forever with the Lord 494
Forget not yet 125
Foweles in the frith 49
Free love — free field 451
Fresh Spring, the herald 165
From a lone tower 350
From Tuscan came 130 n
FuU fathom five 208
Gather ye rosebuds 330
Give me more love 2S0
Give me my scallop shell of quiet 195
Give place, ye lovers 131
Give place you ladies 134
Glory to thee, my God, this night 369
Go and catch a falling star 235
664 INDEX
Go, gOj quaint follies 288
Go hert, hurt witli adversite 91
Go, lovely rose 305, 306
Go, piteous sighs 95
Go, pretty child 269
God is it refuge for his saints 370
God moves in a mysterious way 373
Gone are my games 83
Good and great God 232
Good hostess, lay a crab in the fire 116
Guide me, O thou great Jehovah 370
Gulls in an aery morrice 533
Had I a. heart for falsehood framed 366
Hail, orient Conqueror of gloomy night 397
Hail, meek-eyed maiden 363
Happy were he 139
Hark, hark, my soul 494
Hark, hark the lark 208, 213
Hark, joUy shepherds 215
Hark my soul ! it is the Lord 372
HajTnakers, rakers, reapers, and mowers 205
Having this day my horse, my hand, my lance 519
Heap cassia, sandal-buds and stripes 456
He that loves a rosy cheek 251, 268
Help me to seek 136 n
Hence, all you vain delights 206
Here's to the maiden of bashfull sixteen 366
Highway ! since you my chief Parnassus be 155
His golden locks 200
Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty 494
Home they brought her warrior dead 445, 451
Hope like the taper's gleamy light 366
How am I changed ! My hopes were once like fire 411
How are thy servants blessed 337
How do I love thee 489
How doth the little busy bee 369
How happy could I be with either 344
How happy is he 395
How hey I it is none lese 90
How like an angel 338
How many bards 430
How many paltry, foolish painted things 163
How many Summers, love 444
How sweet the music echo makes 449
INDEX 565
How sweet the name of Jesus sounds 370
How unhappy a lover am I 318
Hush, my dear, lie still 370
Hyd Absolon, thy gilte tresses clere 73
am as lighte as any roe 90
am monarch of all I survey 373
came, I saw, and was undone 310
care not for those ladies 319
did not live until this time 339
faint, I perish with my love ! 413
find no peace 133
fled Him, down the nights .539
have loved flowers that fade 544
heard a linnet courting 541
heard men upon the mould 65
heard the voice of Jesus say 494
know a little garden close 467
love aU beauteous things 543
love to hear that men are bound 417
might — unhappy word 153
ne'er could any lustre see 366
never shall love the snow again 543
pant for the music which is divine 413
pass all my hours 332
prithee let my heart alone 363
prithee send me 254, 330
prithee spare me 354
remember, I remember 442
saw from the beach 437
saw my lady weep 218
sing of a maiden 86
stood tip-toe upon a. little hill 277
strove with none 414, 416
tell you hopeless grief is passionless 489
told my love 384
took a hansom on to day 519
wandered far in the wold 547
wandered lonely as a cloud 394
wish I was by that dim lake 436 n
wish I were where Helen lies 10
wonder, by my troth, what thou and I 336
would not be a king *11
cham of Irlaunde "^8
chaue a mantel *8
666 INDEX
Ich em nu alder thene ich was 43
Ichot a burde 57
If ever Sorrow spoke 160
If love vifere what the rose is 471
If there were dreams to sell 446
If thou must love me, let it be for me '. 489
If thou wilt cure thine heart 445
II pleure dans mon coeur 451
In a herber green 117
In going to my naked bed 196
In love, if love be love 451
In somer when the shawes be sheyne 89
In the bleak mid-winter 88
In the merry month of May 190
In the white-flowered hawthorn brake 468
Integer vitae scelerisque purus 8
In time the strong and stately turrets fall 159
It is a beauteous evening 397
It is no dream that I am he 418
It is not growing like a tree 230
It soars like hearts of hapless men 547
It was a' for our rightful king 430
It was a lover 207
I wish I were a little bird 490
I will make you brooches and toys for your delight 511
Jentill butler, bellamy 89
Jesus, lover of my soul 370
Know then, my brethren 294
Lady the birds right fairly 315
L'aspetto sacro 104 n
Lay a garland 205
Lead, kindly Light 494
I,enten ys come with loue to toune 60
Let me not to the marriage of true minds 175
Like as tlie waves 175
Like to the clear 189
Little Lamb, who made thee 383
Look, Delia, how we 'steem the half blown rose 162
Love and harmony combine 382
Love in my bosom 189
I-ove is a sickness full of woes 104, 188
Love me not for comely grace 488
INDEX 567
Love on my heart from heaven fell 543
Love, that doth reign 127
Love's but the frailty of the mind 320
Loving in truth, and fain in verse my love to show .506
Lutel wot it anymon 62
Lysteneth, Lordynges, a newe song 54
Man in the moon 61, 89
Many a merry meeting 244
March, march, Ettrick and Teviotdale 429
Mark where the pressing wind shoots j avelin like 497
Martial, the things that do attain 128
Mary 1 I want a lyre with other strings 374
Memory, hither come 382
Men call you fair 166
Merie it is while sumer ilast 46
Merie sungen the muneches 19
Methought I saw my late espoused saint 194, 464
Mignonne, allons voir si la rose 162
Mihi est propositum 57
Mine eye and heart 176
Moder milde, fiur of alle 49
Mon ime a son secret 158
Mon, wi seestu loue ant herte 51
Mortal man and woman 487
Move eastward, happy earth 450
Music, when soft voices die 414
My banks they are furnished with bees 349
My comforts drop and melt 280
My darlyng dere 96
My dear mistress has a heart 326
My delight and thy delight 542
My eyes for beauty pine 542
My galley charged with forgetfulness 123
My gentle bird 146
My girl, thou gazest much 143
My gostly f adir, y me confesse 77
My heart is like a singing bird 493
My heart is yours 113
My heart leaps up when I behold 394
My heart, my mind, and my whole power 113
My little pretty one 114
My love's an arbutus 57
My love is of a birth as rare 274
My love is like to Ice 165
568 INDEX
My lute, awake 125
My mind to me a kingdom is 408
My prime of youtli 140, 172
My silks and fine array 382
My soul is an enchanted boat 413
My spotless love 161
My true love hath my heart 178
My wofull heart 89
Nearer, my God, to thee 494
Nel dolce tempo 134 n
Never love unless you can 220
Never seek to teU thy love 507
No, no, poor suffering heart 318
Nobly, nobly Cape Saint Vincent 458
Not at first sight 152
Not, Celia, that I juster am 324
Not here, O Apollo 485
Not to know vice at aU 229
Now is the month of maying 215
Now springes the sprai 66
Now that the Spring hath fiUed our veins 243
Now that the winter's gone 246
Now the lusty Spring is seen 205
Now the white violet blooms 417
Now welcom somer 73
Now winter nights enlarge 541
O do not wanton with those eyes 233
Oh ! for a closer walk with God 372
O for a day of Spring 533
O June, O June, that we desired so 469
O life ! what lets thee 193
O mistress mine 207
O my Luve's like a red, red rose 387
O only Source of all our light 480
Oh ponder well ! be not severe 344
O sacred head now wounded 62
Oh, sing unto my roundelay 378
O sonno, o della queta 155
O stream descending to the sea 480, 481
O that sad day 328
Oh that those lips had language 374
O that 'twere possible 452
O thou whose image in the shrine 480
INDEX 569
O Time ! who know'st a lenient hand to lay 390
O'er Cornwall's cliffs the tempests roared 364
Of a rose, a lovely rose 85
Of a' the airts 389, 4,37
Of beauty yet she passeth all 114
Oft in the stilly night 437
On a poet's lips I slept 413
On distant heaths beneath autumnal skies 349
On hire is al my lif ilong 51
One day I wrote her name 167
One struggle more and I am free 405
Or ever the knightly years were gone 520
Our bugles sang truce 434
Our God, our help in ages past 370
Out upon it 255
Over hiU, over dale 207
Over the hills and far away 320
Owre kynge went forth 91
Pack, clouds, away 205, 271
Pan, leave piping 331
Pastime vrath good company Ill
Phillis is my only joy 324
PhiUis, men say that all my vows 323
Poichfe '1 cammin 102 n
Prayer, the Churches banquet 280
Princes that rule 319
Pus vezem de novelh flour 31
Put forth thy leaf, thou lofty plane 481
Quando piu guardo 210
Quant I'erba f resqu' 26
Quant li estez 27
Queen and huntress 231
Queen, for whose house my fathers fought 471
Quel antiquo mio dolce empio signore 121
Questa nuova del ciel felice Stella 150 n
Rarely, rarely comest thou 410
Reach with your whiter hands 266
Reign in my thoughts 1^1
Remember me when I am gone away *93
Rendez k I'or cette couleur qui dore 161
Restore thy treasure 161
Ring out your bells 1''^^
670 INDEX
Rock of Ages 370
Rough wind that moanest loud 407
S' Amor non k 70
Say not, the struggle naught availeth 480
Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled 385, 436
See how the feathered blossoms 333
See where my love 214
Se'l viver nostro 136
Shall I wasting in despair 244
She I love (alas in vain) 418
She is far from the land 437
She walks in beauty like the night 405
She was a phantom of delight 515
Sherwood in the twilight 551
Si come 1' amorosa, e vaga stella 150 n
Si k debile il filo 122
Si notre vie est moins qu'une j ournde 136
Sigh no more, Ladies 208
Since love will needs 126 n
Since there's no help 164, 462
Sing me a song of a lad that is gone 511
Slow, slow, fresh fount 230
So cruel prison 131 n
So feeble is the thread 154 n
Songs of Shepherds 332
Soimd the deep waters 492
Steer, hither steer your winged pines 243
Stella : che degna ben vi dimostrate 150 n
StiU to be neat 231
Such green to me as you have sent 134
Sumer is icumen in 46, 47
Summer set lip to earth's bosom bare 525
Sun of my soul 494
Sweet and low, sweet and low 451
Sweet are the thoughts 200
Sweet, be not proud 272
Sweet day, so cool, so calm 280
Sweetest love, I do not go 235, 239
Sweet violets. Love's Paradise 198
Tagus, farewell 126 n
Take, O take those lips away 208, 330
Tapster, drynker, fille another ale 89
Tears, idle tears 451
INDEX 571
Tell me not, sweet 357 359
Tempus adest floridum 41
Terly terlow, terly terlow 126
That beauty such as thine 548
That time of year 176
That was my Joy 92
The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold 406
The curfew tolls the knell of parting day 355
The day grows old 394
The door was shut 49I
The faery beam upon you 266
The flower that smiles to-day 411
The flude comes fleeting 80
The glittering shows 197
The glories of our blood and state 319
The glorious image of the Maker's beauty 166
The golden gift 130 n
The greatest kings do least command content 137
The idle life I lead 542
The king sits in Dumferling toune 10
The lark now leaves his watery nest 319
The little boy 256
The long love that in my thought I harbour 121
The marigold so likes the lovely sun 146
The merchant's daughter 197
The merry cuckoo 167
The night her blackest sables wore 346
The Nightingale — as soon as April bringeth 179, 217
The nightingale has a lyre of gold 522
The nightingale, the organ of delight 215
The nymph that undoes me 321
The poetry of earth Is never dead 424
The rushing rivers that do run 144
The sea ! the sea ! the open sea 443
The spacious firmament on high 327
The swallow leaves her nest 445
The ways of death are soothing and serene 518
The wisest scholar of the wight most wise 154
The world is too much with us 173, 397
The year's at the spring 457
The young May moon is beaming, love 43T
There be none of Beauty's daughters 406
There is no rose of swich vertu 85
There's none without love 331
There's not a joy the world can give 404
572 INDEX
There was never nothing 124 n
There were three ravens 216
They flee from me 124 n
This ae nighte 20
This endris night 86
This mystic wreath 263
This silken wreath 247
This time when lovers 77
Those eyes that set my fancy 198
Thou yomigest Virgin-daughter 317
Through the dim veil of evening's dusky shade 348
Thus I compleyne 91
Thus to a ripe, consenting maid 320
Thy voice from inmost dreamland calls 548
Tiger ! Tiger ! burning bright 383
To all you ladies now on land 323
To laugh, to smile 113
To one who has been long in city pent 424
To this moment a rebel 326
Ton kme est un paysage choisi 412
Tout la gieus 24
Touch us gently, Time 444
Tread lightly, she is near 513
Treading the path to nobler ends 307
Trowl the bowl 205
Turn, Fortune, turn thy wheel 451
'Twas but a single rose 266
'Twas when the seas were roaring 344
'Twas within a furlong of Edinborough town 335
Twice or thrice had 1 loved thee 236
Two lines shall tell the grief 144
Under the greenwood tree 207
Underneath this sable hearse 268
View me. Lord 220
Waken, lords and ladies gay 430
Wassayle, wassayle 116
We are the music makers 499
We now mid hope vor better cheer 505
We saw the swallows gathering in the sky 497
Weep no more, nor sigh, nor groan 206
Weep not, my wanton 200
Were I a king 139
INDEX 67S
Wert thou a king , 139
What dawn-pulse at the heart of heaven 462
What should I say 126 n
What sweet relief the showers 133
What was he doing, the great god Pan 488
What we, when face to face we see 480
When as the nightingale 262
When all thy mercies 337
When birds were songless 548
When by Zeus relenting the mandate was revoked 496
When, dearest, I but think of thee 256
When first I met thee 435
When forty winters 174
When I am dead, my dearest 493
When I behold a forest spread 266
When I do hear thy name 144
When I have fears that I may cease to be 425
When I have seen by Time's fell hand defaced 175
When I see winter return 64
When in disgrace with fortune 129 n
When Love, rocked by his mother 436 n
When Love with unconfined wings 257
When lovely woman stoops to foUy 365
When May is in his prime 146
When raging love 131 n
When Spring comes back to England 551
When the hounds of Spring 472
When the lamp is shattered 411
When the winds whistle 319
When thou must home 218, 220
When to the sessions l^T
When we two parted 406
When you are old 518
Where griping grief 1^^
Where she her sacred bower adorns 320
Where the quiet coloured end of evening smiles 458
Wherever I am, and whatever I do 318
Whether on Ida's shady brow 382
While History's Muse *35
While I listen to thy voice 307
Whoever comes to shroud me 236
Who is Sylvia ^^"^
Who will believe my verse in time to come 506
Who wins his love shall lose her 539
674 INDEX
Why art thou silent 39S
Why dost thou shade thy lovely face 325
Why so pale and wan 255
Why weep ye by the tide, ladie 430
Why weeps, alas ! my lady love 217
With how sad steps, O Moon 156
With margeraln jentyl 97
With what sharp checks 154
Winter wakeneth al my care 63, 64, 469, 521
Ye Gentlemen of England 432
Ye happy swains 331
Ye living lamps 274
Ye Mariners of England 431
Ye meaner beauties of the night 262, 295
Ye that in love 121 n
You are a tulip 272
You cannot love, my pretty Heart 163
You phrase-tormenting fantastic chorus 548
You that have spent the silent night 142
INDEX II
Titles of Lyric, Naerative and Desceiptive Poems
Cited in the Text
[Dramas, masques, collections of poems, including sonnet sequences,
are indexed in III.]
A. B. C. to the Virgin, An 71
A Child my Choice 193
Accontius and Cydippe 468
Adieux k Marie Stuart 471
Ad seipsum 198
Aged Lover renounceth Love,
The 135
Agincourt (Anon.) 91
Agincourt (Drayton) 187
Adonais 221, 414
Albion 156 n
Alexander's Feast 316, 359
All in a garden fair 197
Alliance of Education and
Government, The 351
Almae Matres 539
Alysoun 55, 60, 65 n
Amantium Irae 196
Amyntor's Grove 258
Annus Mirabilis 315
Arraignment of a Lover 141
Ars Victrix 537 n
Arthour and Merlin 23, 32, 67
A se stesso 107
As slow our ship 435
Atli, Old Lay of 14
At the Grave of Burns 390 n
Attila 495
Aurora Leigh 486, 487, 528
Autumnal, The 548
Ave atque Vale 472
Ave, Caesar 518
Avril 538
Azalea, The 502, 503
BaUad of a Nun, A 530 n
Ballad of Charity, The 376
Ballad of Reading Gaol, The
513, 514 n
BaUad in Blank Verse of the
Making of a Poet 530
Ballad upon a Wedding, A . . . 256
Ballade of Dead Ladies 73
Banished Wife's Complaint,
The 17
Bard, The 4, 353
Battle of Brunanburh, The ...20
Battle of the Baltic, The
431, 432
Beauty's Pageant 462 n
Bed in Summer 511
Believe me, if all those en-
dearing young charms 435
Bell Buoy, The 550
Belle Dame sans merci. La . . .
422, 424, 442
Beowulf 17, 20
Bermudas, The 278
Birth-Bond, The 464
Birthday, The 493
Blessed Damozel, The
460, 461, 462, 501, 514
Boke of the Duchesse, The 72
Bonnie Dundee 428
Bothie of Tober-na-Vuolich,
The 178, 476, 477
Bouillabaisse 507
Bridge of Sighs, The 440
Bright Star 425
676
INDEX
Bristowe Tragedy, Hie 376
Britannia 539
Brook, The 449
Bruce 385
Bugle Song, The 449
Burning Babe, The 193
By the Fire Side 474
By the North Sea 473, 475
Campaign, The 68, 337
Cane-Bottomed Chair, The . .
507, 509
Canonization 240
Carol, A Christmas 88 n
Carrier Song, A 625
Cathedral Spire, The 647
Cavalier's Song 428
Charity 491
Chanson du Vanneur .... 136, 638
Child Jesus to Mary, The 76
Child's Laughter, A 472
Childe Harold 405, 406
Christ 19
Christabel 398
Christmas Day 548
Ciceroes Death 133
Clair de Lune 515
Claribel 449
Cloud, The 412
Collar, The 280
Community 238
Complaint, Hoccleve's 76
Compleint to his Lady 72
Compleynt of Venus 72
Confined Love 238
Corinna's going a-Maying . . .
272, 273, 275
Corydon and Phillida 190
Cour de Paradis, La 24
Crossing the Bar 416, 452
Crusade, The 364
Cry of the Children, The 486
Cuisse cassfe, La 140
Cupid and Psyche 468
Cynthia (Barnfleld) ...164, 164 n
Cynthia (Raleigh) 355
Daisy 527
Dawning 289
Day in Sussex, A 535
Death Bed, The 442
Death of Zoroas, The 133
De Gustibus 458, 474
Dejection 398, 400, 401
De I'^lection de son Sepulchre
538
Deor's Lament 15, 17
Departure 502, 503
Desiderium 539
Discharged 518
Dolores 472
Don Juan 405, 406, 407
Dora 475
Dover Beach 482
Down-Hall 343, 373
Dream, The 402
Dream Pedlary 445
Dying Christian to his Soul,
The 346
E Tenebris 513
Eagle, The 474
Earth's Secret 497
Easter Day 289, 513
Edward I, Elegy on 54
Edward IV, Elegy on ....95, 136
Elegy on a Lady, whom grief
for the death of her Be-
trothed killed 543
Elegy to the Memory of an un-
fortunate Lady 348
Elegy written in a Country
Churchyard, 136, 184, 315,
333, 353, 354-356, 358, 458.
Elixir, The 282
Elysium, The Apparition of
his Mistress calling him to . .265
Eloisa to Abelard 286 n
Empedocles on Etna 485
Endymion . .374, 419, 423, 425, 426
INDEX
577
Epilogue to Asolando 457
Bpipsychidion 408, 410
Epistle of the Second Book of
Horace, The First (Pope) .302n
Epistle to a friend 404
Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot 343
Epistle to J. Lapraik 388
Epistle to James Smith 389 n
Epithalamion, The ...70, 166,
181, 183-186, 308, 321, 230.
Epode (Jonson) 229
Erlkonig, Der 216
Essay on Criticism
316, 3S6, 357, 545
Euthanasia 404 n
Evangeline 178
Eve of Crecy, The 465 n, 466
Eve of St. Agnes, The 425
Faerie Queene, The 130, 140,
141, 164, 181, 194, 242, 315,
397, 422.
Faery Song 423
Fair Elenor 381
Fair Helen 10
Fair Ines 441
Fair Virtue 343
Fairy Lough, The 436
Fancy, A 139
Far-Far-Away 449
Farewell to Poetry 268
FareweU to Sack 267, 268
Fever, The 241, 242, 248
Flowers, The 550 n
Flowers without Fruit 284 n
For my own Monument 339
Forsaken Merman, The 485
Fountain of Tears, The 501
France 496, 497
From Grub St 529
Frontier, The 548
Garden, The (Grimald) 133
Garden, The (Marvell)
273, 277, 289
Garland of Laurel, A 94, 95
Garden of Proserpine, The ...472
Garden Song, A 538
Gebir 415
General Eclipse, The 261
Gertrude of Wyoming 431
GiUiflower of Gold, The 466
Girl I left behind me. The ..435
Glimpse, The 547
Go, piteous sighs 95
God's Dominion and Decrees
370 n
Good Council to a Young Maid
349
Good Gossipes Song, The 80
Good-Night, Babette! 538
Good-Night to the Season 439
Government Clerk, The 508
Gratitude 507
Grave, The 379
Grave of King Arthur, The ..364
Green-Gown, A Ballad called
the 330
Greensleeves 88, 197
Groves of Blarney, The 435
Gwin, King of Norway 381
Haystack in the Flood, The . .466
Hayswater Boat, The 483
He Who Never Laughed Again
468
Heart's Hope 463 n
Henry and Emma 340
Hero and Leander 415
Hohenlinden 433
Homeric Unity 539
Home-Thoughts from Abroad
458
Horatian Ode upon Crom-
well's Return, An 273,376
Hound of Heaven, The 527
House of Fame, The 71
How they brought the good
news from Ghent to Aix . . 530
Hudibras 315
578
INDEX
Hunter's Song 444
Husbandman's Complaint, The .55
Hymn in honour of Love; of
Beauty; of Heavenly Love,
181, 183, 186, 231, 229
Hymn to Adversity . .361, 352, 397
Hymn to Beauty 463
Hymn to Colour 496
Hymn to God, my God 241
Hymn to Light 313
Hynm to Proserpine 472
Hymn to the Supreme Being
371 n
Hunting of the Gods, The 332
I die alive 193
I wish I was by that dim lake
436 n
In a Gondola 459
In a Lecture Room 477
In Guernsey 474
In Hospital 518
In Love's Eternity 501
In Memoriam
291, 448, 452, 456, 496
In Prison 466
In the Children's Hospital ...448
Indian Serenade, The 411
Indifferent, The 238
Infant Sorrow 384
Internal Harmony 497
Isolation 485
Joy Passing by 504
King Arthur's Tomb 466
Knightes Tale, The 28
Kubla Khan 398
Lact6e 274 n
Ladies of St. James, The 538
Lady of the Lake, The 427
Lady's Dream, The 440
Lak of Stedfastnesse 73
Lalla Rookh 434
L' Allegro 11, 190, 295
Land East of the Sun, The . . .468
Lark Ascending, The 495
Last Chantey, The 550
Last Rhyme of True Thomas,
The 549
Last Ride Together, The . . 100, 457
Last Rose of Summer, The ... 435
Laus Veneris 472
Lay of the Labourer, The . . ..440
Lay of the Last Minstrel, The
126, 399
Le Fils du Titien 105 n
Le Lac 356
Legend of Good Women, The . . 73
Letter from Italy, A 337
Letter of Advice, A 439, 507
Letter to the Honourable Lady
Margaret Harley 341
Lie, The, 179, 194, 199, 208, 244, 440
Life and Death of Jason, The
466, 467
Lines on Poland 431
Lines to the Dead Cardinal . . .526
Litany to the Holy Spirit, His
265, 270
London (Blake) 384
London (Davidson) 531 n
Looking Glass, The 248
Lost Cupid, The 156
Lost Days 464
Lost Love 539
Lost Mistress, The 507
Lotos-Eaters, The
208, 399, 449, 450, 496
Love among the Ruins 456, 458
Love and age 444
Love in the Valley 498
Love — Sweetness 462 n
Lover describeth. The 197
Lover in great distress, The . . 197
Lover's Anger, A 342
Love's Alchemy 238
Love's Farewell 307
Lucifer In Starlight 11, 497
INDEX
579
Lullaby of a lover. The 142
Lycidas 299, 300, 314, 397
Lyke-Wake Dirge, A 20
Man 282, 491
Mannerly Margery 95
Mark Antony 262
Marmlon 364, 42T
Master George his sonnet 144
Match, A 471
Maud 252, 496
May Queen, The 448
May-Queen, The World's 551
Meditation 287
Meditation in a Grove 369 n
Mercy Seat, The 287
Milkmaid, The 538
Miller's Daughter, The 450
MUton 380
Mockery of Life, The 535
Moder of God 76
Monk's Tale, The 70
Monody on the Death of Chat-
terton 375
Mother's Dream, The 503
Mower to the Glow Worms,
The 274
Music 518
Music's Duel 285, 286, 316
My bed is a boat 511
My Mother's Grave 438
My Neighbour Rose 509
My Star 459
Napoleon 498
New Charon, The 264
New Prince, new Pomp 193
News from Rome 252
Night of Frost in May, A ...495
Night-Piece to Julia 266
Noctum 518
Nbe 156 n
Non sum quails eram 517
Northern Farmer, The 448
Nosegay, A 197
November 469
Nox Nocti Indicat Sclentiam . .293
Nutbrowne Maide, The ...35, 340
Nymph Complaining for the
Death of her Fawn, The
273, 277, 451 n
O, Patrick, fly from me 435
Ode, Armada, The 472
Ode from the French. Water-
loo 406
Ode in May 546
Ode on a distant prospect of
Eton College 351
Ode on a Grecian Urn 426
Ode on Rural Elegance 350
Ode on Solitude 346
Ode on the Approach of Sum-
mer 363 n
Ode on the Death of a Favour-
ite Cat 351, 507
Ode on the Departing Year . .400
Ode on the First of April ..363n
Ode on the Intimations of
Immortality
231, 292, 397, 409, 421
Ode on the Morning of
Christ's Nativity 296
Ode on the Power of Sound . .397
Ode on the Popular Supersti-
tions of the Highlands of
Scotland 361, 424
Ode on the Resurrection 313
Ode on the Spring 351
Ode on Wit 314
Ode, Patriotic 345
Ode sur la Prise de Namur . . .340
Ode to a Nightingale
221, 422, 426
Ode to Athens 472
Ode to Autumn (Hood) 442
Ode to Autumn (Keats) . .421, 425
Ode to Content 362
Ode to Duty 352, 397
Ode to Evening 360, 362, 413
680
INDEX
Ode to Fancy 362
Ode to Fear 361
Ode to France 400
Ode to Health 362
Ode to Liberty (CoUins) 358
Ode to Liberty (SheUey) 409, 410
Ode to Liberty (J. Warton) ..362
Ode to Master Stafford 262
Ode to Memory 453
Ode to Napoleon 406
Ode to Nothing 326
Ode to Simplicity 360
Ode to Sorrow 426
Ode to the Departing Year . . . 221
Ode to the Evening 381, 413
Ode to the memory of Mrs.
KiUigrew 316
Ode to the Memory of Gary
and Morison, A Pindaric ..230
Ode to the Royal Society 313
Ode to the West Wind, The
412, 413
Ode upon Liberty 311
Of a' the airts 389, 437
Ogier the Dane 467
Old Familiar Faces, The 507
Old Pictures in Florence 456
Old Song ended, An 461
On God Ureisun of Ure Lefdi
44, 45
On a Dead Child 543
On a Drop of Dew 273
On a Fair Beggar 327
On First Looking into Chap-
man's Homer 424
On Going beyond the Seas . . . 257
On Midsummer Days and
Nights 518
On Observing a Blossom on
the First of February, 1796
375 n
On Reading the memoirs of M.
D'Artagnan 535
On this day I complete my
Thirty-sixth Year 405 n
One Hope, The 464
One long Whitsun holiday ..334n
Operation 518
Ornament, The 289
Our Ball 439
Owl, The 449
Ozymandias 173, 407
Paddy Whack 435
Pancharis 231
Paracelsus 456
Paradise Lost ..296, 300, 463, 541
Parlement of Foules, The . . .
71, 74 n
Pastoral Ballad, A 349, 350
Passions, The 359
Pause, The 493
Pearl, The 74, 75
Pfelerinage de I'Ame, Le 71
Penseroso, II, 11, 358, 359, 360, 362
Pharsalia 171
Pilgrim of Glencoe, The 431
Pleasures of Hope, The 431
Pleasures of Melancholy, The, 363
Plorata Veris Lachrymis 504
Plowman's Song, The 170
Poema Morale 43, 44
Poppy, The 525
Power of Russia, The 431
Praise of my Lady 466
Prayer 289
Pretty girl milking her cow.
The 435
Princess, The 3, 449, 451
Progress of Poesy, The
7, 313, 353, 354
Prospice 416, 457
Prothalamion, The, 70, 181,
183-186, 221, 228, 297, 317, 426
Proud Maisie 427, 431
Psalms, The 393, 528
Puck's Song 550 n
Pulley, The 289
Pursuit, The 289
INDEX
581
Quiet Work 484
Quip, The 280, 389
Rabbi Ben Ezra 291
Rape of Lucrece, The 253
Rape of the Lock, The . . .361, 363
Raven, The 461
Rebel Scot, The 261
Recessional 550
Relapse, The 263
Requiem 512
Requiescat 513
Resolution and Independence
375 n
Resolve, The 260
Resurrection 533 n
Retreat, The 291, 292
Review in Rhyme, A 536 n
Revolutionary Relic, A 538 n
Richmond, Earl of, Elegy on, 130
Rime of the Ancient Mariner,
The, 105, 392, 398, 399, 400, 415
Ring and the Book, The 495
Ritter Bann, The 431
River, The SO, 501
Rizpah 448
Roman de la Rose, ou de Guil-
laume de Dole 24 n
Rose, The 257
Rose Aylmer 418
Rosalynde 188, 463
Rosamund 337
Runnable Stag, A 530
Sage Enamoured and the
Honest Lady, The 495
Saint Agnes' Eve 453
Sally in our Alley 345
Scholar Gipsy, The 485, 486
Scholar's Relapse, The 348
Scythe Song 539
Sea and the HiUs, The 550
Sea of Death, The 4,42
Seafarer, The 16
Sea- Wife, The 550 n
Scrutiny, The 358 n
Seasons, The 344
Secretary, The 339
Self-Dependence 484
Sensitive Plant, The 410
Session of the Poets, A
249 n, 353, 264
Shepherd's Calendar, The
145, 180, 180 n, 221, 343
Shepherd's Hunting, The 343
Shepherd's Oracle, The 294
Shepherd's Sirena, The ...187, 525
Sick Child, The 511
Sick Rose, The 384
Silent Noon 464, 474
Silent Voices, The 452
Sinner's Complaint, A 139
Sir Giles' War-Song 466
Sir Peter Harpdon's End 466
Sister Songs 536
Skylark, To a 413
Sleep at Sea 493
Sluys, Song on fight at 68
Snow 333
Soldier's Dream, The 433
Son-Days 388
Song for St. Cecilia's Day 337
Song in the Songless 497
Song of Palms 501
Song of the Four Seasons, A . .538
Song of the Road, A 511
Song of the Shirt, The 440
Song to David, A 371
Song to his Mistress 348
Song to the Lute, A 538
Soul's Beauty 464
Spectre of the Past, The 501
Spirit of Shakespeare, The ...497
Spring, The 246
St. George's Day 185 n
St. Valentine's Day 535
Stanzas from the Grande
Chartreuse 483
Stanzas to Augusta 404
Stanzas written in Dejection
INDEX
near Naples 411
Sublime, The 534
Sudden Light 461
Summer Night, A 484, 485
Summum Bonum 459
Sunday 280, 289
Sweet and Low 451
Sweet William's Farewell to
Black-eyed Susan 343
Swing, The 511
Tables Turned, The 507
Testament of a Man Forbid,
The 532
Thallasius 475
Thanksgiving to God for his
House 269
Threnodia Augustalis 315
Thyrsis 314, 476, 485
Tintern Abbey 9, 392
To a Daisy 389
To a Fieldmouse 389
To Althea from Prison . .257, 259
To Anthea 268
To a child of quality . . . .324, 341
To a Girdle 306
To Blossoms 271
To Celia .....324
To Cupid 292
To Daffodils 271, 394
To-Day and To-Morrow 493
To Dianeme 507
To Edward Dowden 544 n
To his Coy Love 187
To his Coy Mistress 275
To his Saviour, a Child 81
To Lucasta ....257, 259, 323, 507
To Mary 374
To Meadows 268, 507
To Night 413, 415
To CEnone 268
To Primroses 271
To Spring 381
To the Evening Star 381
To the Lady A. L 258
To the Muses 381, 507
To the Winds 327
Tom BowUng 367
Toyokuni Colour Print, A 518
Toys, The 503
Trionfo d'Amore, II 32
Triple Roundel of Merciles
Beaute, A 73
Tristesse d'Olympio 356
Tristram and Iseult 484
Troilus and Criseyde 70
Troubadour, The 438
Truth 73n
Two in the Campagna 456
Two Red Roses across the
Moon 466
Unknown God, The 546
Up-hiU 492
Upon Appleton House 273
Upon the Image of Death . . . 193
Valediction 260 n
VaUey lay smiling before me,
The 435
Venus and Adonis 146
Verse in praise of Lord
Henry Howard 129 n
Vigil 518
Virginian Voyage, The 186
Virtue 280, 282, 491
^'isit from the Sea, A 511
Vita Nuova 545
Voie Lact^e, La 274
Von Ewiger Liebe 216
Wanderer, The 17
Water Lady, The 442
When first I met thee 435
Where go the Boats 511
While History's Muse 435
White-Hall 244
White Horses, The 550
Widow's Mite, The 508
Widsith 14, 15 n
INDEX
58S
Wind at the Door, The 504
Wishes to his supposed Mis-
tress 269, 285
Without Her 464
Woodland Peace 497
Woodspurge, The 461
Wordsworth's Grave 545
Work without Hope 400
Workhouse Clock, The 440
World, The 288, 290
Wounded Hussar, The 433
Ye Gentlemen of England 432
Ye Mariners of England . .431, 432
Youth and Love 511
Zapolya, Song from 400
INDEX III
General Index
Abelard 171
A cademy. The 232 n
Achilles (Gay) 344
Adams, S. F 494
Addison, Joseph 68, 143, 146, 335, 336, 337-338, 345, 352
Aelfric 20
Aella (Chatterton) 377
Aeschylus 8
Alamanni, Luigi 110
Alcaeus 2 n, 7
Aitken, G. A., Poems of Andrew Marvell, 274 n, 275 n, 276 n, 277 n, 278 n
Alcibiades (Otway) 319
Alden, R. M., English Verse, 555, 557; Introduction to English
Poetry, 555, 556.
Alenfon, Due d' 168
Alfieri 459
Alfred 18
Altenglische Dichtungen des MS. Harl. 2253. See Boddeker.
AUfranzoaische Romanzen u Pcistourellen. See Bartsch.
Amoretti (Spenser) 164-167
Anacreon 227, 265
Anacreontics (Cowley) 313
Analecta Hymnia Medii Aevi. See Dreves.
Anatomy of Melancholy (Burton) 35
Andresen, H., Maistre W ace's Roman de Rou 22 n
Angel in the House, The (Patmore) 502
Anglade, J., Les Troubadours 28 n, 29 n
Anglia 44 n, 48 n, 113 n, 114 n, 138 n
Anglo-Saxon Chronicle 20
Anjou, Due d' 168
Annales. See Tacitus.
Anne, Queen 336, 338
Antidote against Melancholy, An 330
Antigone (Sophocles) 145
Appel, C, Provenzalische Chrestomathie 26 n
Apollo Club, The 224
Arbeit u. Rhythmus. See Biicher.
Arber, E., 126 n, 138 n, 145 n, 146 n, 147, 147 n; English Oamer,
149 n, 151 n, 152 n, 153 n, 154 n, 155 n, 156 n, 157 n, 158 n, 159 n,
160 n, 162 n, 163 n, 164 n, 165 n, 166 n, 167 n; English Scholars'
Library, 197 n; Castara (Habington), 292, 293 n.
INDEX 586
Arcadia, The (Sidney) 148, 178
Archer, W., Poetg of the Younger Generation 559
Archiv fiir das Studivm der Neueren Sprachen u. Literaturen 93 n
Areopagus, The 177
Aretino 14,1
Ariosto 118, 141, 159
Aristotle 1, 2, 5, 106, 154
Aristotle's Poetics. See Bouchler.
Aristotle's Theory of Poetry and Pine Arts. See Butcher.
Armada, The 245
Arminius 14
Arnold, Matthew, 2, 106, 395, 424, 443, 447, 470, 476, 477, 478, 48I-
486, 544, 546, 547, 551; Poems, 481 n, 482 n.
Arnold, Thomas 476, 481
Arraignment of Paris, The (Greene) 200
Art of English Poesy, The. See Puttenham.
Arthour and Merlin. See Kolbing.
Arundel, Earl of 168
Arvers 158
Asolani 108
Asser 18
Asser's Life of King Alfred. See Cook.
Astrophel and Stella (Sidney) 147-156, 159
At the Sign of the Lyre. See Dobson.
Atalanta in Calydon (Swinburne) 469, 472, 473
A thencBum, The 243 n
Attila 14
Attraverso il Cinquecento. See Graf.
Aubrey, John 304
Audelay, J., 83; Carols by, see Chambers.
Austen, Jane 489
Avril, see BeUoc, H.
Ayres, Philip, 3, 327 ; Lyric Poems, 3 n.
Ayres and Dialogues (John Gamble) 263
Bach 62
Bacon, Sir Francis 224, 427, 455
Baif, Jean-Antoine de 136
Bale, John 116
Ballads, Old EngUsh 10-11, 89, 135
Ballads of Policeman X (Thackeray) 508
Ballads and Songs. See Davidson.
Ban and Arriire Ban. See Lang.
Bannistre, Gilbert ^^
Banquet of Music (Playford) 333
686 INDEX
Barbour, John 385
Barnes, Barnabe 156-158, 159
Barnes, William, 504-506; Select Poems, see Hardy, T.
Barnfield, R 164
Baron, Robert 256 n
Barrack Room Ballads (Kipling) 367, 549
Bartsch, K. Altfranzosische Romanzen n. Pastourellen, 33 n, 34 n,
556 ; Chrestomathie de I'ancien franqaU, 26 n, 36 n, 556.
Bassus 113 n
Batista della Palla 109
Beattie, James 433
Beddoes (T. L.), 444-446; Poems, see R. CoUes.
Beck, Jean, La Musique des Troubadours 556
Bede 18, 18 n, 19
B^dier, J 25 n
Beeching, H. C, The Sonnets of Shakespeare 558
Beedome, Thomas 287
Beers, H. A., 377; A History of English Romanticism in the
XVIII th Century, 348 n, 350 n, 559; in the XlXth Century, 559;
Points at Issue, 558.
Beethoven 470
Beggar's Opera, The (Gay) 343, 344, 345 n
Beginnings of Poetry, The. See Gummere.
Bell, Songs from the Dramatists 82 n, 204 n, 208 n
Belleau, Remi 538
Belloc, H., Avril 557
Bembo 108, 149
Benoit de Sainte-More 31
Benson, A. C, Rossetti 460 n
Beowulf 20
Berdan, J. M., Poems of John Cleveland 262 n
Berger, P., William Blake: Mysticisme et Poisie 384 n
Bibliographical Account of Musical Works. See Rimbault.
Bibliothek der angelsdchischen Poesie. See Wlilcker.
Bismarck 448
Blake, William, 12, 191, 370, 375, 378-385, 388, 393, 429, 458, 504, 507,
511, 540; WilKcmi Blake, see Berger; Lyrical Poems; The Poeti-
cal Works, see Sampson; Letters of, see Russell.
Blunt, W. S., 5SS-535; Esther, Love Lyrics and Natalia's Resurrec-
tion, 533 n.; Love Sonnets of Proteus, 534 n, 535 n, 536 n; Poetry
of, see Henley.
Boccaccio 141, 385
Boddeker, K., AUenglische Dichtungen des MS. Harl. S^5S, S3n,
65 n, 112, 368, 556.
Boileau, Despr^aux 303, 340
INDEX 587
Bolle, W., Die gedruckten engl. Liederbilcher bis 1600, 313 n, 213 n,
558.
Bonar, Horatius 494
Bonduca (PurceU). See Rimbault, E. F.
Bonifacio, Dragonetto 309
Bonnefons, Jean 331
Born, Bertrand de 26
Boswell, James 235
Botticelli 105, 184
Bouchier, E. S., Aristotle's Poetics In
Bowles, W. L., S90-391; Sonnets and other Poems 391 n
Bradley, A. C, 425; Oxford Lectures on Poetry 425 n
Brahms, Von Ewiger Liebe 216
Brakelmann, J., Les plus anciens chansonniers frangais, 27 n, 28 n,
30 n, 556.
Breton, Nicholas, 190-191, 197, 199, 200; Works, see Grosart.
Brett, C, Minor Poems of Michael Drayton 187 n
Bridges, Robert, 432, 434, 435, 540-544; Poetical Works, 540, 541 n,
543 n, 543 n, 544 n; Poems of John Keats, 424 n.
Britannia's Pastorals (Wm. Browne) 242, 305
Brome, Alexander S60-^61
Bronson, W C, Poems of William Collins 357 n, 359 n, 360 n, 361 n
Bronte, Charlotte, 406; Life of, see Gaskell.
Bronte, Patrick 376
Brooke, Stopford A ^ 410
Brown, Ford Maddox 460
Browne, Sir Thomas 524
Brown, T. E 475
Browne, William, $4^-^43, 368, 305; Poems of, see Goodwin, G.
Browning, Elizabeth B., 486-489; Poetical Works 487 n
Browning, Robert 3, 13, 100, 170, 291, 407, 416, 447, 450, 454-459,
463, 470, 480, 495, 507, 530.
Bruce (Barbour, J.) 385
Brunetifere, 8, 9; L'tivolution de la poisie lyrique en France au
dix-neuviime siicle, 9 n, 556.
Bruno, De gV heroici furori 181
Buchanan, Robert 464
Bucher, K. W., Arbeit u. Bhythmus 4 n
Bucke, G 1*5
Bull, John (organist at Antwerp) 212
BuUen, A. H., 186; Songs from the Elizabethan Dramatists, 82 n,
204 n; Longer Elizabethan Poems, 164 n; Lyrics from Eliza-
bethan Romances, 189 n, 190 n, 200 n; reprint of Poetical Rhap-
sody, 199 n.
Bume-Jones, Sir Edward 465
588 INDEX
Burnet, Bishop 325
Burns, Robert, 30, 157, 259, 260, 335, 338, S85-390, 391, 392, 403,
412, 424, 436, 437, 443, 505, 517, 545; Poetry of, see Henley.
Burton, Robert 35
Butcher, S. H., Aristotle's Theory of Poetry and Fine Arts, 7n;
Harvard Lectures on Greek Subjects, 1 n.
Butler, Samuel 294, 322
Byron, Lord, 336, 390, 395, 4OS-407, 408, 410, 412, 414, 418, 419, 434,
437, 447, 454 478, 549; Poetical Works, 404 n, 405 n.
Byrd William, Psalms, Sonnets and Songs of- Sadness and Piety, 211,
216.
Caedmon 18
Caesar, Julius 154
Calthorp, H. C. Holway, Petrarch, His Life and Times 557
Cambridge, 92, 94, 223, 251, 261, 262, 263, 273, 283, 296, 298, 309, 338,
351, 371, 393, 451.
Cambridge History of English Literature 86 n
Camden, Wm 223, 224
Campbell, Thomas, 427, 431-434, 439, 444; Poetical Works, see
Robertson.
Campion, Thomas, 178, 199, 212, S19-S20, 336, 430, 540, 541; Works,
see Vivian.
Canterbury Tales (Chaucer) 71
Carew, Thomas, 217, 246-261, 252, 253, 254, 255, 256, 260, 263, 268,
287, 295, 302, 303, 330, 346, 368; Poems, see Vincent.
Carey, Henry, 345, 518; Poems on Several Occasions, 345 n.
Carey, Lady Elizabeth 166 n
Cariteo 162
Carlyle, Thomas 403
Carmina Burana. See Schtneller.
Carols 83-88
Carols, Specimens of Old Christmas, see Wright; Ancient English
Christmas Carols, see Rickert; English Folk-Carols, see Sharp,
C. J. ; The Story of the Carol, see Crowest, F. J.
Carpaccio 181
Cartwright, William 260
Cary, I^ucius. See Falkland.
Casa, Giovanni della 155, 162
Cassola, Luigi 309
Casson, T. E 390 n
Castara (Wm. Habington). See Arber.
Castelvetro 1
Castiglione, II Cortegiano 209
Cato (Addison) 336
Catullus 265
INDEX 589
Cavalcanti, Guido 98
Cavalier Songs and Ballads of England. See Mackay.
Cavallo, M 150 n
Caxton, WilUam 94
Celebration of Charts, A. (Jonson) 213 n
Cellini, Benvenuto 109
Cenci, The (Shelley) 407
Century Magazine 129 n
Chalmers, A., The Works of the English Poets, 129 n, 143 n, 144 n,
323 n, 324 n, 362 n.
Chambers, E. K., Poems of John Donne, 253 n, 236 n, 237 n, 238 n,
239 n, 240 n, 241 n; Poems of Henry Vaughan, Silurist, 287 n,
288 n, 289 n, 290 n, 291 n, 293 n.
Chambers, E. K., and Sidgwick, F., Early English Lyrics, 46 n, 49 n,
SO n, 66 n, 87 n, 90 n, 91 n, 93 ii, 111 n, 112 n, 557; Fifteenth
Century Carols by John Audelay, 83 n.
Champneys, Basil, Poems by Coventry Patmore 501 n, 503 n
Champany, M. de 212
Chansons populaires du fays de France. See Weckerlin.
Chanson populaire en Prance, Mistoire de la. See Tiersot.
Chansonniers franqais, Les plus anciens. See Brakelmann.
Chappell, W., Popular Music of the Olden Time 214 n
Charles I 244, 246-246, 304
Charles II 315, 332, 334
Charles d'Orleans, 76-78, 98, 536; Poems in English by, see Taylor.
Chatterton, Thomas, 234, S76-S78, 419; Poetical Works, see Skeat.
Chatterton (De Vlgny) 375
Chaucer, Geoffrey, 28, 69-74, 75, 76, 78, 127, 180, 368, 376, 385, 466, 468
Chaucer, Studies in. See Lounsbury.
Child's Oarden of Verses (Stevenson) 511, 512
Chloris (Smith) 167
Chrestien de Troies 29
Chrestomathie de I'ancien frangais. See Bartsch.
Christ (Cynewulf ) 18 n, 19, 19 n
Cinquecento, II. See Flamini.
Cinthio, G , 387
Clarendon, Edward, Lord 229
Clarissa Harlowe (Richardson) 355, 403, 435
Cl^dat, L., La Po4sie lyrique et satirique en France au moyen dge . .25 n
Cleomenes (Dryden) 318 n
Cleveland, John, 261, 262; Poems, see Berdan.
Clough, A. H., 178, 476-481, 485, 547; Poetical Works, see Palgrave.
Cnut 18, 19
Coelia (Percy) 159, 160
S90 INDEX
Coleridge, S. T., 105, 161, 286, 390, 393, S98-402, 444, 455 ; Coleridge's
Literary Criticism,, see Mackail.
Collection de choeurs, etc., see Gevaert.
Collection of all the New Songs, A 333
Collection of Royal Songs written against the Btunp Parliament . .251 n
Colles, R., Complete Poetical Works of George Darley, 444 n; The
Poems of Thomas Lovell Beddoes, 446 n.
Collier, J. P., Reprints 197 n, 198 n
CoUins, William, 9, 357-361, 362, 363, 366, 368, 381, 413, 424, 436, 545 ;
Poems, see Bronson.
Colonna, Giacomo 102, 123
Colvin, Sidney, Selections from the writings of Landor 419 n
Comparative Literature. See Posnett.
Complete Angler, The (Walton) 307
Comus (Milton) 295
Conaro, Marco ISO n
Congreve, William, 254, 364, 312, 320, 352; Essays and Plays, 312 n.
Conquest of Grenada, The (Dryden) 318 n
Constable, Henry, 159, 160; Diana, 159, 160.
Cook, A. S., Asser's Life of King Alfred, 18 n; Christ of Cynewulf,
The, 18 n.
Cook, A. S., and Tinker, C. B., Select Translations from old English
Poetry, 15 n, 16 n, 17 n, 18 n, 19 n, 556.
Cornwall, Barry. See Proctor.
Corson, H., A Primer of English Verse 555
Cortegiano. See Castiglione.
Cotton, Charles 337, 338, 518
Couci, Chatelain de 27
Courthope, W. J., A History of English Poetry 557
Cowley, Abraham, 309-S14, 316, 326, 339, 349, 354,, 369, 397; Poems;
Essays and Plays, see Waller, A. R.
Cowley, A., Life of. See Johnson, S.
Cowper, William, 343, 371, S7S-374, 386, 507; Complete Poetical
Works, see Milford.
Cox, F. A., English Madrigals in the time of Shakespeare, 215 n,
317 n, 318 n, 558.
Crashaw, Richard, 193, 368, 378, 380, S8S-^87, 393, 293, 294, 303,
303 n, 314, 316, 369, 464, 503, 525, 527 ; Poems, see Waller, A. R.
Crescimbeni 310
Croiset, A. and M., Histoire de la littirature grecque 3 n, 8 n, 555
Croiset, A., La Po4sie de Pindare et les lois du lyrisme grec, 6 n, 7 n,
8 n, 555.
Cromwell, Oliver 276, 296, 303, 448
Cromwell. See Hugo.
Crowest, F. J., The Story of the Carol 556
INDEX 591
Crump, C. G., Poems, Dialogues in Verse and Epigrams by Walter
Savage Landor 416 n, 417 n, 418 n
Cunliffe, J. W., The Posies of George Oascoigne 141 n, 142 n, 143 n
Cunningham-Gifford, The Works of Ben Jonson, 223 n, 225 n, 226 n,
227 n, 328 n, 229 n, 230 n, 231 n, 232 n, 233 n.
Cymbeline (Shakespeare) 213, 361, 389
Cynewulf 18, 19
Cynthia (Barnfield) 164
Cynthia's Revels (Ben Jonson) 230 n, 231 n
Dabney, J. B., The Musical Basis of Verse 555
Daniel, Samuel, 104, 160-161, 163, 170, 188, 219, 225, 368; DeUa,
159, 162 n ; Works, see Grosart.
Danielle, Bemadino 136
Dante 98, 106, 118, 171, 414, 420
Darley, George, 444; Poetical Works, see CoUes.
Davenant, Sir William 319
David and Bethsabe (Peele, G.) 200
Davidson, John, 185, 529-533, 542; Ballads and Songs, 530 n, 531 n;
Holiday and Other Poems, 530 n; In a Music Hall and Other
Poems, 530 n.
Davison, Francis, Poetical Rhapsody 199
Death's Jest Book (Beddoes, T. L.) 444
Defence of Guinevere, The (Morris) 465
DeguiUeville 71
De Heredia 451
Dekker, Thomas 205, 366
Delia. See Daniel.
Deir infinitd, d'Amore 109
Demosthenes 427
Deor 15
De Profundis (Wilde) 512
De Sanctis, 100, 101, 103; Saggio Critico sul Petrarca 103 n, 557
Desportes 136, 159, 162, 165, 189, 226
Devereux, Penelope 148-153, 178
Devereux, Robert, Earl of Essex 139, 140, 148, 245
Devil is an Ass, The (Jonson) 231 n
Diana. See Constable.
Dibdin, Charles, 366-367; Songs, see Hogarth.
Diella. See Linche.
Diodati, Charles 299
Discoveries (Ben Jonson) 224, 228
Divine Songs for Children (Watts) 370
Dobell, Bertram, 328; The Poetical Works of Thomas Traherne ..329n
592 INDEX
Dobson, Austin, 340, 342, 517, SS6-BS8, 539; At the Sign of the
Lyre, 538 n; Old World Idylls, 537 n; Selections from Prior, 340.
Dodsley, J., A Collection of Poems 368 n
Dodsley, Robert, 115; see Hazlitt.
Dolce, L ISO n, 189
Domenichi 108
Don Carlos 168
Donne, John, 123, 194, 208, 222, 226, Z3S-Z4H, 247, 248, 253, 255, 258,
263, 267, 273, 274, 275, 279, 287, 304, 309, 329, 346, 415, 446, 463,
525, 527, 548; Poems, see Chambers.
Dorset, Charles, Earl of . . .258, 294, 311, 32S-323, 325, 326, 338, 346, 372
Dowden, Edward, 415; The Sonnets of William Shakespeare, 558.
Dowland, John, First Book of Songs and Airs 211-212
Dowson, Ernest, 512, 614-617, 535; Poems, see Symons.
Drake, Sir Francis 245
Drama of Exile, A (E. B. Browning) 487
Dramatis Persona (R. Browning) / 170
/ Drayton, Michael, 159, 160, 162-164, 186-188, 199, 242, 326, 368, 462,
525 ; Idea, 159, 162, 163 n.
Dreves, G. M., Analecta Hymnia Medii Aevi 40 n
Droeshout 126
Drolleries Windsor; Epsom; Norfolk; Westminster 331
Drummond, William, of Hawthornden 223, 225, 226, 228, 233, 385
Drury, G. T., The Poems of Edmund Waller, 304 n, 305 n, 306 n,
307 n, 308 n.
Dryden, John, 293, 302, 305, 308, S14-S19, 322, 329, 336, 346, 354,
359, 420; Works, see Scott-Saintsbury ; Age of, see Garnett.
Du Bartas 156 n, 226
Du BeUay 136, 145 n, 161, 226, 538
Dublin Book of Irish Verse, The 437
Duchess of Malfi (Webster, J.)
Duenna, The (Sheridan) 366
Dugdale, Sir William 364
Du M6ril, E. P., PoSsies populaires latines antirieures au douzi^me
siicle 36 n
Dunstan 18, 18n
D'Urfey, Thomas, 262, 334-335, 343, 346; Wit and Mirth or Pills
to Purge Melancholy, 331 n, 334 n, 335 n.
Dyce, A., The Poetical Works of John Skelton, 95 n, 96 n, 97 n;
Works of Greene and Peele, 201 n, 212 n.
Dyer, Sir Edward 139, 177, 219
Early Bodleian Music. See Stainer.
Early English Literature to Wiclif. See Ten Brink.
Early English Lyrics. See Chambers.
INDEX 693
Early English Text Society, 44 n, 45 n, 46 n, 49 n, SO n, 51 n, 52 n, 76 n,
79 n, 80 n, 81 n, 83 n.
Early Sixteenth Century Lyrics. See Padelford.
Earthly Paradise, The (Morris) 466, 467, 468
Ebsworth, J. W., Westminster Drolleries (reprint) 331 n, 333 n
Edwards, Richard 196
Eglogs, Epytaphes, and Sonnettes. See Googe.
Eighteenth Century Literature, 390 n ; see also Gosse, Perry.
Einfiihrung in das Studium der Altfranzosischen Lit. See Voretzsch.
Eleanor of Poitou 31
Elizabeth, Queen, 138, 139, 141, 147, 168, 171, 221, 232, 315, 355, 542;
Poems, see FlUgel; Courtships of, see Hume.
Elizabethan Literature. See Saintsbury.
Elizabethan Sonnets. See Lee.
EUis, G., Specimens of the Early English Poets 333 n
Eloisa 171
Elwin and Courthope, The Works of A lexander Pope 286n
Emaux et Camies (Gautier) 541
Encyclopidie du dix-neuviim,e siScle 39
England's Helicon 198 n, 199
English Garner. See Arber.
English Humourists of the Eighteenth Century (Thackeray) 342 n
English Melodies from the 13th to the 18th Century. See Jackson.
English Men of Letters 149 n
English Miracle Plays, Moralities and Interludes. See Pollard.
English Poets, The Works of the. See Chalmers.
English Romantic Movement, The Beginnings of the. See Phelps.
English Songs and other small poems. See Procter.
English Verse. See Alden.
English Versification, A History of. See Schipper.
Englische Studien 556
Epic, the Oldest English. See Gummere.
Erasmus 94, 110
Eric of Sweden 168
Erlkonig. See Schubert.
Erskine, John, The Elizabethan Lyric 212 n, 556, 557
Essay on Satire (Dryden) 308 n
Essex, Earl of. See Devereux, R.
Esther (Blunt) 533, 534
Etheredge, Sir George, 321 ; Works, see Verity.
Euripides "^
Every Man in his Humor ( Jonson) 225
Faber, F. W *^*
Fables (Gay) ^*^
5H INDEX
Faguet 172
Fairfax, Edward ; 305
Fairfax, Robert : 92
Fairfax, Lord (Thomas), 273; Life of, see Markham.
Fair Virtue (Wither) 243
Falkland, Lord (Lucius Cary) 224, 3H
Farquhar, George 320
Fasciculus Florum, or a Nosegay of Flowers 304
Faust (Goethe) 398
Fehr, B 93 n
Ferrabosco, Alphonso 212
Ferrar, Nicholas 278
Ficino, Marsilio 181
Fidessa (Griffin) 167
Finze, G., Petrarca 100 n, 557
Fitzgerald, Edward 448, 472, 496
Flamini, F., Varia, 105 n, 109 n, 119 n; II Cinquecento, 107 n; Studi di
Storia Letteraria Italiana e Straniera, 109 n.
Flatman, Thomas, 327 ; Poems and Songs, 328 n.
Fleet Street Eclogues (Davidson) 185 n, 532
Fleshly School of Poetry, The (Buchanan) 464
Fletcher, Giles 159
Fletcher, John 160, 205, 206, 302, 443
Fletcher, J. B., The Religion of Beauty in Woman 148 n, 181 n
Flugel, E., N euenglisches Lesebuch, 92 n, 111 n, 557; Oedichte der
Konigin Elizabeth, 138 n.
Fontainebleau 109
Forest, The (Jonson) 265
Forman, H. B., The Poetical Works of John Keats, 420 n, 424 n;
The Poetical Works and other Writings of John Keats, 420 n,
422 n, 423 n.
Four Elements, The 116
Fournier, E 39 n
Four P's, The (John Heywood) 115
Frangois I 109
Frazer's Magazine 265 n
French Influence in English Literature. See Upham.
Fulwell, Ulpian 116
Gamble, John, Ayres and Dialogues 263
Garnett, R., The Age of Dryden 558
Gascoigne, G., 132 n, Ifyl-lfyS, 190; The Posies of Oeorge Oascoigne,
see Cunliffe.
Gaskell, E. C, Life of Charlotte Brontd 376 n
Gatti, Alessandro 240
INDEX 695
Gautier D'Espinal 30
Gautier, Th^ophile 488, 537
Gay, J., 339, 347, S42SU; Poetical Works, see Underbill.
Gayley, C. M., and Scott, F. N., An Introduction to the Methods and
Materials of Literary Criticism 555
Oemma Ecclesiastica 47
Gentleman's Magazine, The 264, 358, 368
George I 338
Georgian Era, Literature of. See Minto.
Geraldine, Lady 130
Germ, The 460
Germania. See Tacitus.
Germanic Origins. See Gummere.
Gevaert, F. A., Collection de chceurs sans accompagnement pour
servir a I'itude du chant d'en^emhle 40 n
Gibson, L 197
Gildas 18
Gildersleeve, B. L., Pindar 312 n
Giraldus Cambrensis 47
Glapthorne, Henry 244
Giusto de Conti 123
Godley, A. D., Poetical Works of Thomas Moore, 437 n, 438 n ;
Select Poems of Winthrop Mackworth Praed, 438 n, 439 n.
Godwin, Mary 410
Goethe 403
Golden Treasury of Songs and Lyrics. See Palgrave.
Goldsmith, GUver 365
Goodere, Anne 162
Goodwin, Gordon, Poems of William Browne 242 n, 243 n
Googe, Barnabe, 144, 177; Poems, see Chalmer's English Poets.
Gorgeous Gallery of Gallant Inventions 196-197
Gosse, Edmund, 238, 250, 269, 294, 306, 464, 503, 517; Coventry
Patmore, 464 n ; Eighteenth Century Literature, 558 ; Seven-
teenth Century Studies, 558.
Graf, A., Attraverso il Cinquecento 106 n
Grandison, Sir Charles (Richardson) 100
Granson 72
Grass of Parnassus (Lang) 536 n
Gray, Thomas, 4, 7, 136, 184, 224, 313, 315, 333, 348, S50-357, 358,
362, 366, 368, 397, 507, 545; Selections from the Poetry and
Prose of, see Phelps.
Greene, Robert 199-200, 429, 446
Grein, C. W. M. See Wiilcker.
GreviUe, Fullse 139
Grieg ' ^1^
596 INDEX
Griffin 167
Grimald, N 133-133
Oriselda ( Boccaccio) 385
Grosart, A. B., Works of Nicholas Breton, 190 n; Complete Works
of Samuel Daniel, 188 n; Complete Works in Prose and Verse
of Francis Quarles, 294 n; Complete Poems of Robert South-
well, 191 n, 192 n, 193 n; Poems of Vaux, Oxford, etc., 140 n;
Occasional Issues, 159 n.
Guarini 209, 327
Guillaume d' Amiens 36
Guillaume de Poitou 30, 31, 57, 83
Guiney, L. I., Thomas Stanley 263 n
Gumraere, F. B., 5, IS; Beginnings of Poetry, The, 4 n, 19 n, 20 n,
556; Germanic Origins, 14 n, 17 n, 20 n, 556; The Oldest English
Epic, 15 n; ^ Handbook of Poetics, 556.
Gunnar 14
Gustavus Adolphus 249, 252
Oypsies Metamorphosed, The (Jonson) 266
Habington, William 292-293
Hall, J., Poems of Lawrence Minot 68 n, 69 n
Hale, E. E., Jr., Selections from the Poetry of Robert Herrick ....558
HaUam, Henry 176
Hals, Franz 173
Hamlet (Shakespeare), 103, 169, 194, 196, 197, 356, 404, 415, 452, 484,
500, 535, 548.
Handel 11
Handful of Pleasant Delights 197
Hanmer, Sir Thomas 357
Hannah, J., Poems of Walton, Raleigh, etc. . . 139 n, 194 n, 195 n, 355 n
Hardy, T., Select Poems of William Barnes 505 n
Harrington, Sir John 143
Harrison, J. S., Platonism in English Poetry of the 16th and 17th
Centuries 181 n
Hartlib 1
Harvard Lectures on Greek Subjects. See Butcher.
Harvey, Christopher 287
Harvey, Gabriel 177, 178
Hassler 62
Hawthorn and Lavender. See Henley.
Hawthornden, 385. See Drummond.
Hayley 380
Hazlitt, W. C, Dodsley's Select Collection of Old English Plays,
lis, llSn, 116 n, 117 n.
Heber, Reginald 494
INDEX. 597
^""e, H 214, 523
Mekatompathia (T. Watson) 145
Hellas (SheUey) 407, 408
Henderson, M. Sturge, George Meredith 495 n
Henderson, T. F., Scottish Vernacular Literature, 385 n; see Henley.
Henley, W. E., 387, 483, 517-623, 531, 534, 547, 551; Hawthorn
and Lavender, 484 n; Works, 518 n, 519 n, 520 n, 521 n, 532 n,
523 n; Poetry of Wilfrid Blunt, 534 n.
Henley, W. E. and Henderson, T. F., The Poetry of Robert Burns,
387 n, 388 n.
Henrietta Maria, Queen 252
Henry VI 92
Henry VII 94
Henry VIII 94, 110-111, 126
Herbert, George, 232, 268, 21&-283, 284, 287, 289, 390, 291, 292,
296, 302, 328, 372, 480, 491, 493; Works, see Palmer, G. H.
Herricls, Robert, 81, 85, 190, 232, 233, S6S-27S, 287, 302, 307, 308,
330, 394, 399, 417, 421, 446, 490, 507, 512, 513, 537, 640, 541, 552;
Works, see PoUard; Selections from, see Hale, E. E., Jr.; Her-
rick, see Moorman.
Hervey, Wm 314
Hesperides (Robert Herrick) 263, 264, 268, 269, 270, 541
Hessey 420
Hewes, W 140
Heywood, John (?) 134
Heywood, Thomas 203, 205, 272, 443
Hieroglyphics (Quarles) 294
Hill, Robert 308 n
History of the English People, A Literary, see Jusserand, J.
History of English Poetry (T. Warton), 364; see also Courthope.
History of English Prosody. See Saintsbury.
History of English Romanticism, A. See Beers.
History of English Versification, A. See Schipper.
History of French Versification, A. See Kastner.
Hoccleve 45-46, 75-76, 78
Hogarth, G., The Songs of Charles Dibdin 367 n
Holiday and other Poems. See Davidson.
Homer 265, 420, 538
Honour Military and Civil. See Segar.
Hood, Thomas, 439-44S, 486; Poetical Works, see Jerrold.
Horace 1, 3, 8, 145, 226, 227, 229, 364 n, 265, 338, 358, 362, 536
Horce Lyricw (Watts) 369, 369 n
Horstmann, C, Richard Rolle of Hampole 75 n
Hoskins, J 1*0
House of Life, The (D. G. Rossetti) 460, 461, 463, 464, 466, 489
598 INDEX
Howell, James, 97, 277; Familiar Letters of, see Jacobs.
Hubatsch, O., Die Lateinischen Vagantenlieder des Mittelalters ... .40 n
Hugo, Victor, 208, 347, 356, 448, 471 ; Cromwell, 5 n.
Hume, M. A. S., Courtships of Queen Elizabeth 168 n
Hunt, Holman 460
Hunterian Club, Complete Works of Thomas Lodge 189 n
Hutchinson, T., The Complete Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe
Shelley 411 n, 413 n
Hymen's Triumph (Daniel) 188
Hymns 45, 49-52, 61-62, 368-372, 493-494
Idea (Drayton) 159, 162, 163 n
Idylls of the King (Tennyson) 448, 484
In a, Music Hall. See Davidson.
In the Key of Blue. See Symonds.
Indian Emperor, The (Dryden) 319 n
Ingram, J. H., Christopher Marlowe and his Associates 201 n
Inner Temple, The 242
Introduction to English Poetry. See Alden.
Introduction to Methods and Materials of Literary Criticism. See
Gayley.
lophon 7
Irish Melodies (Moore) 7, 434, 437
Irving, Washington 264
Italian Madrigals Englished 147 n
Ivanhoe (Scott) 364
Jackson, V., English Melodies from the 13th to the 18th Century,
llln, 218 n, 558.
Jacobite Ballads of Scotland, The. See Mackay.
Jacobs, J., Familiar Letters of James Howell 97
Jacobs, Giles, Political Register 264
James I 139, 233, 244, 245
James II 334
Jane Eyre (C. Bront6) 486, 487, 488
Jeanroy, A., Les origines de la poisie lyrique en France au moyen
dge, 34 n, 556.
Jerrold, M. P., Petrarca, Poet and Humanist 557
Jerrold, W., Complete Poetical Works of Thomas Hood 441 n
Jonson, B., The Poems of Thomas Love Peacock 444 n
Jonson, Ben, 130, 156 n, 193, 222, 223-2SS, 237, 242, 243, 244, 247,
249, 250, 258, 262, 263, 264, 265, 266, 267, 279, 285, 302, 303, 304,
311, 329, 346, 376, 443, 506; Works, see Cunningham-Gifford.
Johnson, Samuel, 241, 299, 304, 309, 325, 336, 365, 369; Life of
INDEX 699
Cowley, 241 n; Lives of the English Poets, 335, 558; Poems, see
Ward.
Jordanes 14
Journal of Oermanic Philology 147 n
Journal des Savants 23 n, 35 n
Judgment of Paris, The (Congreve) 320
Juvenal 226, 358
Jusserand, J., A Literary History of the English People 558
Kastner, L. E., A History of French Versification, 555; articles on
sonnets, 558.
Keats, John, 175, 208, 221, 234, 277, 298, 375, 377, 419-4S7, 442,
447, 448, 454, 455, 464, 624, 545; Poems, see Bridges; Poetical
Works, see Forman.
Keble, John 494
Ken, Thomas 369, 372
Kennedy. See Ten Brink.
Kiel, H., Ueber die engUschen Marienklagen 556
King, Edward 299
King, Henry, Bishop of Chichester 260
King John (Bale) 116
KipUng, Rudyard, 367, 517, 513, 648-551; Puck of Pooks Hill, 550 n;
The Seven Seas, 549 n, 550 n.
Koeppel, E 155 n
Kolbing, E., Arthour and Merlin 23 n, 67 n
Kulturproblem des Minnesangs, Das. See Wechssler.
La Fontaine 343
Lamartine 356
Lamb, Charles ISO, 275, 507
La Musa Madrigalesca. See Oliphant, T.
Lambert, d'Arras 37
Landor, W. S., 224, 414-419; Poems, see Crmnp.
Lang, Andrew, 508, 536, 538-540; Ballades and Rhymes, 539 ii,
540 n; Ban and Arriire Ban, 539 n, 540 n; Orass of Parnassus,
536 n, 539 n.
Languet 1*8
Laumonier, Paul, Ronsard PoHe Lyrique 173 n
Laura 99-107, 146
Lawes, Henry 254, 307, 330
Lea, Sir Henry 200
Leconte de Lisle 501
Lee Sidney, 149, IS?; Elizabethan Sonnets, 149 n, 151 n, 159 n, 163 n,
163 n, 165 n, 166 n, 167 n, 179 n, 180 n, 557; French Renaissance
in England, 557; Life of Shakespeare, 558; Sonnets, 558.
600 INDEX
Leicester, Earl of 147, 168, 306
Lemaitre 539
Leominster Abbey 53
Leonard, R. M., A Book of Light Verse 507 n
Leopardi 107
Letters to Dead Authors (Lang) 508
Levi, Eugenia, Lirica Italiana 98
Lewes, Battle of 53
Lewis, C. M., 16; The Principles of English Verse, 555.
Licia (Giles Fletcher) 159
Light Verse, A Book of. See Leonard.
Like will to Like (FulweU) 116
Linche, Diella 167
Lincoln, Abraham 448
Lincoln's Inn 66
Linnel, John 380, 383
Littirature grecque, Histoire de la. See Croiset.
Lirica Italiana. See Levi.
Literature of the Victorian Era. See Walker, H.
Lives of the most famous English Poets. See Winstanley.
Livy 237
Locker-Lampson, F., 508-509 ; London Lyrics, 508, 508 n, 509 n.
Lodge, Thomas 159, 170, 188-189, 197, 199, 319, 463
London (Magazine) 517
London Lyrics. See Locker-Lampson.
London Times 88 n
London Voluntaries (Henley) 519
Long, P. W 166 n
Longer Elizabethan Poems. See BuUen.
Longfellow, H. W 178
Longueville, T., Rochester and other Literary Rakes of the Court
of Charles II 559
Louis XIV of France 257
Lounsbury, T. R., Studies in Chaucer 70, 70 n
Love is Enough (Morris) 467
Love Sonnets of Proteus (Blunt) 533, 534
Lovelace, Richard, 256-260, 264, 302, 304, 330, 368, 432, 507; Poems,
257 n, 258 n, 259 n.
Lowell, J. R 184, 360, 353, 354, 361
Lucan 171
Lucas, Sir Charles 240
Lxicasta (Lovelace) 257, 264
Lucrece, Rape of (Th. Heywood) 203
Lusty Juventus 116
Lydgate, John 75-76, 78
INDEK 601
Lyly, John 151, 204, 368
Lyra Elegantiarum (Locker-Lampson) 506
Lyric, The Elizabethan. See Erskine.
Lyric, The French, its origins, ^S-S4i early forms, troubadour and
trouvere lyrics, S5-SS, 55-66, 60, 101; lyric of the po6sie popu-
laire, S2-S6; noels, S6-4O, 83-84; Anglo-Norman lyric, 64-66;
Pl^iade, 136-137; modern imitations of, 517-518, 538. See also
Ronsard, Desportes.
Lyric, The Greek 1-3, 5-8
Lyric, The Italian. See Petrarch.
Lyric Poems made in Imitation of the Italians (Ayres) 327
Lyric Poetry, Specimens of. See Wright, T.
Lyrical Ballads (Wordsworth and Coleridge) 132, 331, 390, 393, 398
Lyrical Ballads, Essay supplementary to Preface of 169 n
Lyrics, A Book of Elizabethan; A Book of Seventeenth Century,
see Schelling.
Lyrics from Elizabethan Romances. See Bullen, A. H.
Lyrik und Lyriker. See Werner.
Lyte, H. F 494
Macbeth (Shakespeare) 155
MacCracken, H. N 76
Mackail, J. W., Coleridge's Literary Criticism, 286 n ; Select Epi-
grams from the Greek Anthology, 417 n.
Mackay, C, Cavalier Songs and Ballads of England, 558; The
Jacobite Ballads of Scotland, 558.
McKerrow, Works of Th. Nashe 303 n
Madrigals, discussed S09-S13
Magazine of Art 519
Mahn, C. A. L., Die Werke der Troubadours 31 n
Maiden Queen, The (Dryden) 318 n
Malory, Sir Thomas 447, 448
Manfredi, M 209
Mangan, J. C 437
Manual of English Prosody, Historical. See Saintsbury.
Manual of Prayers for use of Winchester scholars (Ken) 369
Mant, Richard, The Poetical Works of the late Thomas Warton,
363 n, 364 n, 365 n.
Mapes, Walter ^"^
Marienhymnfus , Der Aelteste Englische. See Marufke.
Marienklagen, Veber die englische. See Kiel.
Markham, C. R., A Life of the Great Lord Fairfax 240 n
Marignano ^"^
Marlowe, Christopher ^01, 335, 305, 415, 419, 443, 545
Marlowe, Christopher, and his Associates. See Ingram, J. H.
602 INDEX
Marot, Clement 110, 119, 226, 538
Martelli 189
Martial 128, 226, 229, 265, 358, 415
Marufke, W., Der Aelteste Engliache Marienhymnus 44 n
Marvell, Andrew, 273-^78, 289, 346, 442, 510, S12; Poems, see Aitken,
G. A.
Mary, Queen of Scots 138, 213
Masque of Alfred (Thomson) 345
Matthews, B., A Study of Versification 555
Mazzoni 1
Measure for Measure (Shakespeare) 500
Medwin 410
Meleager 415, 417
Melin de Saint-Gelais 110, 136, 240
Meredith, George 11, 409, 472, 494-499, 517, 535
Meredith, Qeorge. See Henderson, M. S.
Meres, Francis 170
Merry Drollery or a Collection of Jovial Poems 331
Metrik, Englische. See Schipper.
Metrists, English, in the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries. See
Omond.
Meunier, G., La Poisie de la Renaissance 557
Meynell, Alice 524
Meynell, Wilfrid, 524; Selected Poems of Francis Thompson, 524 n,
525 n, 526 n, 537 n.
Middle English Penitential Lyric, The. See Patterson.
Milford, H. S., The Complete Poetical Works of William Cowper,
372 n, 373 n, 374 n.
MiUais, Sir J. E 460
Milton, John, 1, 2, 11, 70, 160, 167, 194, 224, 228, 264, 273, 286, 287,
H95-S00, 313, 336, 346, 354, 358, 361, 363, 381, 389, 390, 396, 405,
409, 414, 420, 422, 446, 454, 459, 464, 497, 529, 541, 644, 545.
Minot, L., 68-69; Poems, see Hall.
Minor Poets of the Caroline Period. See Saintsbury.
Minto, W., The Literature of the Georgian Era 559
Mistress, The (Cowley) 309, 310, 311
Modern Language Notes 87 n, 267 n
Modern Language Review 67 n, 83 n, 166 n, 557
Modern Love (Meredith) 495, 496, 497, 535
Modern Philology 86, 556
Monasticon (Dugdale) 364
Monna Innominata (C. Rossetti) 491
Montgomery, James 494
Moore, Thomas, 7, 219, 278, 335, 366, 433, 434-488, 443, 444, 449;
Poetical Works, see Godlev, A. D.
INDEX
Moorman, F. W., Robert Hernck, A Biographical and Critical
Study 558
Morality of Wisdom 79
Morality plays. Lyrics in 73-8^, 115-117
More, Anne 238
More, P. E., Shelburne Essays 538 n
Morel, L., James Thomson 345 n
Morison 3X1
Morley, Canzonets 213-215, 338
Morris, R., The Complete Works of Edmund Spenser 178 n
Morris, William 4,06, 464, 465-469
Morris, W. See Noyes.
Moschus 156
MS. Add. 5465 93 n
MS. Add. 5665 93 n
MS. Add. 18753 114 n
MS. Ashmolean 191 91
MS. Fairfax 92
MS. Barleian 68S 76
MS. Harleian 3S5S. See Boddeker.
Mulberry Garden, The (Sedley) 234
Musarum Delicioe. Wit Restored 251 n, 264
Music and Moonlight. See O'Shaughnessy, A.
Musica Transalpina. See Yonge, Nicholas.
Musical Basis of Verse, The. See Dabney.
Musique des Troubadours, La. See Beck.
Musset, Alfred de 105, 501
Mystery plays. Lyrics in 78-82
Mystery Plays, York. See Smith, L. T.
Naps upon Parnassus 264
Nashe, Thomas 126, Wl-SOS
Nageotte, E., Histoire de la po4sie lyrique grecque 2 n, 555
Naylor, E. W., An Elizabethan Virginal Book 558
Neuenglisches Lesebuch. See Fliigel.
New Court Songs and Poems 332
Newcastle, Earl of 224
New Inn, The (Jonson) 227
Newman, Cardinal 284, 494
New Pilgrimage, A (Blunt) 534
New Review, The 517
Newton, John 370, 372, 494
Nineteenth Century Literatu/re. See Saintsbury.
Noble Numbers (Herrick) 268, 269
Nodier ^^
Noels, Vieux 37 n, 38 n
601^ INDEX
Nolhac, P. De, Petrarch et I'hvmianism 557
Northumberland, Duke of, Elegy on 95
Nowveau Recueil de divers Rondeaux 618
Nouvelle Httcfise, La (Rousseau) 403
Noyes, Alfred, 469, 518, 551; William Morris, 469 n.
Odes, Arnold, 485-486; Coleridge, 400-401; Collins, 358-361; Cowley,
309, 311; Drayton, 186; Gray, 351-354; Keats, 425-436; Mere-
dith, 498; Patmore, 328, 502; Shelley, 409; Swinburne, 473-475;
Tennyson, 453; Warton, T., 363; Wordsworth, 397.
Old Bachelor, The (Congreve) 320
Old Wives Tale, The (G. Peele) 200
Old World Idylls. See Dobson.
Oliphant, T., La Musa Madrigalesca 190 n, 315 n, 317 n, 558
Oliver 148
Olivier de Magny 136
Olney Hymns, The (Cowper) 373
Olor Oscanus (H. Vaughan) 287
O'Neill, Moira 436
Oxford Lectures on Poetry. See Bradley.
Oxford, Edward Vere, Earl of 139
Ovid 265
Otway, Thomas 319
Omar, Khayyam 472
Oratario, The Captivity (Goldsmith) 366
Orphan, The (Otway) 319
Omond, T. S., English Metrists in the Eighteenth and Nineteenth
Centuries, 555; A Study of Metre, 555.
O'Shaughnessy, Arthur, 499-501; Music and Moonlight, 499 n, 501 n.
Othello (Shakespeare) 169, 213, 336
Oxford Book of English Verse 20 n, 204 n, 360 n, 261, 364, 371 n
Oxford, 92, 94, 145, 148, 161, 333, 342, 390, 408, 414, 421, 465, 469,
476, 515.
Padelford, F. M., Early Sixteenth Century Lyrics 138 n, 557
Palmer, G. H., English Works of George Herbert 380 n, 381 n, 282 n
Paper Money Lyrics (Peacock, T. L.) 444
Paradise of Dainty Devices 195-196, 197
Palgrave, F. T., 9, 11, 261, 286, 374, 443, 452, 476, 477, 499, 500;
Golden Treasury of Songs and Lyrics, 11, 364, 374 n, 461, 500,
555; Second Series, 453 n; The Treasury of Sacred Song, 370 n;
Poetical Works of Clough, 476 n, 477 n, 478 n, 479 n, 480 n.
Paris, Gaston, 22, 34, 25, 35; Poisie du moyen dge, La, 31 n.
Parthenophil and Parthenophe (B. Barnes) 156, 156 n, 157 n
Pascale 189
INDEX 605
Patmore, Coventry, 328, 464, 601-50S; Poems, see Champneys, B.
Patmore, C. See Gosse.
Patterson, F. A., The Middle English Penetential Lyric 556
Pauly, Real-Encyclopddie der Class Alter 2 n
Peacock, Thomas Love, 410, 444; Poems, see Jonson, B.
Peele, George 200-201
Pembroke, Earl of 243
Pencilings by the Way. See Willis.
Pepys, Samuel 322, 330
Percy, Thomas, 368; Beliques of Ancient Poetry, 368, 376.
Percy, William 159
Percy Society Publications 53 n, 84 n
Perry, T. S., English Literature in the Eighteenth Century 559
Person, Martin 200
Petrarca, see Finze; Jerrold; Suttina; Saggio critico sul, see De
Sanctis.
Petrarch, 32, 70, 95, 98, 99-110, 118, 119, 121, 122, 123, 136, 129, 130,
134, 134 n, 135, 141, 145, 145 n, 146, 149, 150, 161, 155 n, 156, 168,
209, 225, 298, 300, 303, 327, 459; Petrarch, see Holway-Calthorp ;
P. De Nolhac.
PUrarquisme, Le, en France au XVI^^ siicle. See Vianey.
Ph(Bdrus (Plato) 108, 181
Pharsalia (Lucan) 171
PhiUp II of Spain 168
Phillips, Edward 190, 264
Philips, Katherine 329
Phillis (Lodge) 159
Philostratus 232
Phcenix Nest, The 197-198
Phelps, W. L., The Beginnings of the English Romantic Movement,
351 n, 559; Selections from the Poetry and Prose of Thomas
Gray, 351 n, 354 n.
Pickering, Sir William 168
Picks, P 197
Pico da Mirandola 9*
Pilkington 214
Pills to Purge Melancholy (D'Urfey) 335
Pindar. See Gildersleeve, B.
Pindar 2 n, 6, 7, 8, 227, 311, 312, 352, 358
Pindare, La Poisie de, et les lois du lyrisme grec. See Croiset, A.
Pindaric Ode, The, 230, 311-313, 315-317, 340, 352-355, 358, 369, 397;
Discourse on the (Congreve), 312 n.
Planctus Mariw *3. 52, 82
Plato 108. 1*3, 154, 181, 229, 214
606 INDEX
Platonism in English Poetry of the 16th and 17th Centuries. See
Harrison, J. S.
Playford, John 330, 333
Plays, A Select Collection of Old English. See Hazlitt.
Pl^ade 136
Pocula Castalia (Robert Baron) 256 n
Poe, E. A 10, 411, 418, 431, 441, 461, 501
Poems and Ballads (Swinburne) 469
Poems and Songs (Flatman) 328
Poems Divine and Human (Thomas Beedome) 287
Poems of Rural Life (W. Barnes) 504
Poems of Vaux, Oxford, etc. See Grosart.
Poems on Several Occasions (Cotton) 327
Poisie du moyen dge. La. See Paris.
Poisie lyrique grecque, Histoire de la. See Nageotte.
PoMe lyrique en France au dix-neuviime si^cle, L'Evolution de la.
See Brunetifere.
Poisie lyrique en France au moyen dge, Les Origines de la. See
Jeanroy.
Poisie lyrique et satiriqite en France au moyen dge. La. See Cl^dat.
Poisies populaires latines antirieures au douziime si^cle. See Du
M^ril.
Poetaster, The ( Jonson) 130
Poetic Theory, The (Poe) 10
Poetics, A Handbook of. See Gummere.
Poetical Blossoms (Cowley) 309
Poetical Register. See Jacobs, Giles.
Poetical Rhapsody. See Davison, F.
Poetical Sketches (Blake) 379, 381
Poetry, The Nature and Elements of. See Stedman.
Points at Issue. See Beers.
Pollard, A. W., English Miracle Plays, Moralities and Interludes,
80 n, 116 n; Herrick's Works, 266 n, 268 n, 269 n, 270 n, 371 n,
272 n, 373 n.
Polly (Gay) 344
Pope, A., 95, 128, 183, 196, 231, 254, 282, 286, 296, 302, 303, 303 n,
305, 306, 308, 316, 337, 341, 342, 343, 346, 348, 351, 352, 356, 357,
363, 545; Works, see Elwin and Courthope.
Pope, Essay on (Joseph Warton) 362
Posnett, H. M., Comparative Literature 5 n
Praed, W. M., 434, 4S8-4S9, 444, 507, 537; Select Poems, see Godley.
Pratinas 8
Primer of English Verse, A. See Corson.
Prince d'Amour, or the Prince of Love 330
Principles of English Verse, The. See Lewis.
INDEX 607
Prior, Matthew, 364, 307, 321, 323, 324, 336, S38-S4S, 343, 346, 349,
351, 372, 373, 386, 507, 510, 536, 537; Dialogues of the Dead, see
Waller, A. R.; Poems on Several Occasions, see Waller, A. R.;
Selections from, see Dobson.
Procter, Bryan Waller, 44^-444; English Songs and other small
poem^, 444 n.
Prometheus Unbound (Shelley) 409, 413
Provenzalische Chrestomathie. See Appel.
Prout, Father (F. S. Mahony) 332
Prudhomme, Sully 274 n
Psyche (Shadwell) 321
Publications of the Modern Language Association 77 n
Purcell, Henry, 330, 334; see also Rimbault, E. F.
Puttenham, George, 118, 126, 138; The Art of English Poesy, 138 n.
Quarles, Francis, 243, 284, S9S-S95, 303; Works, see Grosart.
Quarterly Review, The 265 n
Quiller-Couch, Sir A. T. 443
Quintillian 226
Rabelais 9
Raleigh, Sir Walter, 179, 190, 194-195, 197, 199, 208, 244, 330, 355,
368, 440.
Ramsay, AUan 388
Randolph, Thomas S62-26S
Reading of Life, A (Meredith) 494
ReaUEncyclopadie der Glass. Alter. See Pauly.
Recruiting Officer, The (Farquhar) 320
Reed, E. B 243 n, 267 n
Religio Medici (Sir Thomas Browne) 284
Religion of Beauty in Woman, The. See Fletcher, J. B.
Reliques of Ancient Poetry. See Percy.
Renaissance, La Poisie de la. See Meunier, G.
Renaissance in England, The French. See Lee.
Revue de Deux Mondes, La 25 n
Reynolds 4,20
Rich, Lady. See Devereux, Penelope.
Rich, Lord 148, 153
Richard III (Shakespeare) 169
Richard of Bury *0
Richard Coeur de Lion 32, 57
Richardson, C. F., A Study of English Rhyme 555
Richardson, Samuel 100, 355, 403
Rickert, E., Ancient English Christmas Carols 557
60S INDEX
Rimbault, E. F., ed. Purcell's Bonduca, 204 n; Bibliographical Mis-
cellany, 209 n; A Bibliographical Account of Musical Works,
etc., 558.
Rime Diverse 108, 150 n
Rinieri 150 n
Riquier, Guiraut 32
Ritson, Joseph, 10, 55; A Select Collection of English Songs . .11 n, 261 n
Rival Ladies, The (Dryden) 308 n
Rizzio, David 213
Robertson, J. L., Complete Poetical Works of Thomas Campbell,
432 n, 433 n, 434 n; The Poetical Works of Walter Scott, 428 n,
429 n, 430 n, 431 n.
Robinson Crusoe (Defoe) 475
Rochester, John, Earl of, 294, 304, 311, 322, SZ5-SZ7, 328 n, 330,
347; Works, 326 n.
Rochester. See LongueviUe.
Rodin 517
Rokeby (Scott) 428, 430
Rolle, Richard 74-76, 284
Rolle, Richard of Hampole. See Horstmann.
Roman de la Rose ou de Ouillaume de Dole. See Servois.
Romanische Forschungen 155 n
Romantic Movement in England, The. See Symons.
Romeo and Juliet (Shakespeare) 35 n, 196
Ronsard, Pierre de 136, 145, 156, 159, 162, 165, 172, 226, 311, 538
Ronsard PoMe Lyrique. See Laumonier.
Ronsard and the PUiade. See Wyndham.
Roots of the Mountains , The (Morris) 467
Rosalynde (Lodge) 188
Roscommon, Earl of 305
Rosi, M., Saggio sui tratti d'amore del Cinquecento 557
Rossetti, Christina, 88, 489-49S; Poetical Works, see Rossetti, W. M.
Rossetti, D. G., 164, 396, 414, 447, 459-465, 468, 470, 474, 499, 514, 535.
Rossetti, D. G. See Benson, A. C.
Rossetti, Gabriele 459
Rossetti, W. M., 489; The Poetical Works of Christina Rossetti,
490 n, 491 n, 492 n, 493 n.
Rosseter, Philip 212
Rou, Roman de 22 n
Rousseau 403
Rowley, Thomas 375
Royal Shepherdess, The (Shadwell) 321
Ruskin, John 8
Russell, A. G. B., The Letters of William Blake 379 n, 380 n, 381 n
INDEX 609
Sacharissa 306
Sackville, Earl of Dorset. See Dorset.
Saint Amant 156 n
St. Bernard 43
8t. Dunstan, Memorials of. See Stubbs.
Saint George 181
Saintsbury, G., 339, 398, 428, 442, 451, 456; A History of English
Prosody, 120 n, 442 n, 555; Minor Poets of the Caroline Period,
327 n, 329 ; Historical Manual of English Prosody, 555 ; Elizor-
bethan Literature, 557, 558; Nineteenth Century Literature, 559.
Sampson, J., The Poetical Works of William Blake, 379 n; The
Lyrical Poems of William Blake, 382 n, 383 n, 384 n.
Samson Agonistes (Milton) 9
Sannazzaro 110, 123, 156
Sappho 2 n, 7
Sargent, John 502
Sarto, Andrea del 109
Schve, Maurice 136
Schelling, F. E., A Book of Elizabethan Lyrics, 555, 557; A Book of
Seventeenth Century Lyrics, 558.
Schipper, J., A History of English Versification, 312 n, 555 ;
Englische Metrik, 555.
Schmeller, J. A., Carmina Burana 40 n, 42 n
School for Scandal, The (Sheridan) 366
Schubert, 214; Erlkonig, 216.
Schumann 214
Scots Observer, The 517
Scott, Sir Walter, 69, 126, 187, 260, 353, 364, 378, 385, 416, 4117-431,
439, 444, 455 ; Poetical Works, see Robertson.
Scott-Saintsbury, John Dryden's Works 318 n, 319 n
Scott, F. N. See Gayley.
Scottish Vernacular Literature. See Henderson.
Sedley, Sir Charles, 258, 304, 311, 322, S2S-S2S, 326, 330, 347, 348,
349; Works, 324 n, 325 n, 326 n, 327 n.
Segar, Honour Military and Civil 201 n
Segr^, C, Studi Petrarchesci S57
Selden, John 224
Select Epigrams from the Greek Anthology. See Mackail.
Select Musical Ayres and Dialogues (Playford) 330
Selections from the writings of Landor. See Colvin.
de Selincourt, Basil 495
Selkirk, A 3'I'3
Semele (Congreve) 320
Serafino 105, 110, 119, 119 n, 123, 145, 209
Servois, G., Le Roman de la Rose ou de OuilloMme de Dole 24 n
610 INDEX
Seventeenth Century Studies. See Gosse.
Seymour, Thomas, Earl of 168
Shadwell, Thomas, 320 ; Dramatic Works, 321 n.
Shakespeare, WiUiam, 15, 35 n, 70, 106, 124, 126, 129, 129 n, 132, 144,
154, 155, 157, 159, 161, 164, 167; sonnets, 169-176, 189, 197, 204,
205; songs in dramas, W6-208, 214; 223, 246, 253, 264, 298, 302,
306, 313, 330, 336, 354, 358, 361, 385, 387, 389, 396, 398, 412, 420,
431, 422, 424, 425, 440, 443, 445, 446, 454, 462, 485, 500, 506.
For editions of sonnets, see Beeching, Dowden, Lee.
Sharp, C. J., English Folk-Carols 557
Sharp, William, 462. Sonnets of this Century, 129 n, 168, 462 n.
SheUey, P. B., 143, 156, 156 n, 173, 185, 241, 285, 389, 390, 393, 395,
400, 401, 402, m-4U, 4.18, 419, 421, 434, 437, 445, 447, 454, 455,
469, 473, 475, 544, 545; Poetical Works, see Hutchinson.
Shelley, Life of (Medwin) 410
Shelburne Essays. See More.
Shenstone, William, S48-S50, 387, 552; Poetical Works, 348 n, 349 n, 350 n
Shepherd's Calendar (Spenser) 221, 243
Shepherd's Bunting, The (G. Wither) 243
Shepherd's Week, The (Gay) 343
Sheridan, R. B 366
Shirley, James 319, 368
Siddal, Elizabeth 460
Sidgwick, F. See Chambers.
Sidgwick, Henry 448
Sidney, Dorothy 306, 326
Sidney, Sir PhiUp, 123, 135, 139, 140, 147-158, 156 n, 172, 177, 178-
180, 199, 217, 219, 243, 250, 257, 469, 506, 519.
Silent Woman, The (Jonson) 231 n
Silex Scintnians (H. Vaughan) 288
Simonides 2 n
Skeat, W. W., The Poetical Works of Thomas Chatterton, 376 n,
377 n, 378 n.
Skelton, John, 64, 9.^-97, 141, 236, 242, 370; Poetical Works, see Dyce.
Smart, Christopher, 371 ; Poems of the late Christopher Smart, The,
371.
Smith, J. H., The Troubadours at Home 31 n, 556
Smith, L. T., York Mystery Plays 82 n
Smith, Richard 132
Smith, WiUiam 167
Sociiti des anciens textes frangais 24 n
Socrates 470
Songs, A Select Collection of English. See Ritson.
Songs of Experience (Blake) 379, 383, 384
Songs of Innocence (Blake) 379
INDEX 611
Songs from the Dramatists. See Bell.
Songs from the Elizabethan Dramatists. See BuUen.
Le Sonnet en Italie et en France au XF/me sUcle. See Vaganay.
Sonnet, The English, 9, 119-1^0, 129-130, 133 n, 133-134; chapter IV,
section III ; 298-299, 356-357, 364-365, 374, 396-397, 424-425, 461-
464, 484-485, 488-489, 493, 497, 512-513, 633-535, 541, 545.
Sonnets of this Century. See Sharp.
Sonnets from the Portuguese (E. B. Browning) 488, 493
SouthweU, Robert, 139, 140, 190, 191-19S, 279; Works, see Grosart.
Sophocles 7
Specimens of the Early English Poets. See Ellis.
Spectator, The (Addison) 143, 337, 337 n, 338, 338 n
Spedding, James 455
Spenser, Edmund, 70, 130, 145, 145 n, 148, 164-167, 170, 177, 178, 180-
186, 199, 208, 221, 226, 229, 230, 234, 237, 246, 285, 297, 300, 308,
313, 346, 352, 358, 359, 363, 376, 397, 420, 427, 448, 463, 496, 525,
527, 549; Works, see Morris, R.
Sprat, Thomas 309
Stainer, Sir John, Early Bodleian Music . .43 n, 46 n, 49 n, 51 n, 91 n, 556
Stanley, Thomas g63
Stationers' Register, The 209
Stedman, E. C, 443; The Nature and Elements of Poetry, 555.
Steen, Jan 96
Steevens, G 169
Stella. See Devereux, Penelope.
SteUa (Mrs. Jonson) 341
Sterne, Lawrence 403
Stemhold, Thomas 368
Stevenson, R. A. M 517
Stevenson, R. L 383, 498, 510-51S, 518
Stoddard, R. H 443
Stone, Christopher, War Songs 69 n
Strada 285
Strafford, Earl of 252
Strozzi, The 209
Stubbs, W., Memorials of St. Dunstan 18n
Studi di Storia Letteraria Italiana e Straniera. See Flamini.
Studi Petrarchesci. See Segr6.
Studies in Prose and Verse. See Symons.
Study of English Rhyme, A. See Richardson, C. F.
Study of Metre, A. See Omond.
Study of Versification, A. See Matthews.
Sucltling, Sir John, 248, Z51-S56, 257, 260, 264, 288, 304, 307, 330, 330,
368, 386; Works, see Thompson, A. H.
Summer's Last Will and Testament (Nashe) 201-203
612 INDEX
Surrey, 94, 97, 118, 1Z6-1S2, 133-136, 518, 552; Poems, 128 n, 131 n.
Suttina, Luigi, Bibliographie delle Opere a Stampa intorno a Frarir-
cesco Petrarca, esistente nella Biblioteca Rossettiana di Trieste,
557.
Swift, Jonathan 336, 337, 339, 341, 402
Swinburne, A. C, 233, 285, 341, 406, 409, 414, 447, 448, 450, 457,
464, 469-475, 476.
Sylvester, Joshua 226
Sylvia (Darley) 444
Sylvia (Etheredge) 331
Symonds, J. A., 148; In the Key of Blue and other Prose Essays,
558 ; Sidney, 149 n ; Wine, Women and Song, 42 n.
Symons, Arthur, 514. Poems of Ernest Dowson, with u Memoir,
515 n, 516 n, 517 n; The Romantic Movement in England, 427 n,
559; Studies in Prose and Verse, 559.
Symposium (Plato) 108, 181
Synagogue (Harvey) 287
Tacitus, 13, 14, 16, 21, 227; Annates, 14 n; Oermania, 13 n, 16 n.
Taine 95, 396
Tasso 1, 148, 247, 305
Tassoni 327
Tatham 380
Taylor, G. W., Poems written in English by Charles, Duke of
Orleans 78
Teares of Pancie (Watson) 147
Tebaldeo 110, 123
Tempest, The (Shakespeare) 319
Temple, The (Herbert) 278, 279, 282, 283, 287, 288, 292, 372
Ten Brinlc, 60; Early English lAterature to Wiclif, 60 n.
Teniers 386
Tennyson, Alfred, Lord, 3, 21, 208, 290, 317, 406, 407, 414, 416, 445,
441-453, 455, 470, 471, 473, 474, 475, 496, 498, 499, 500, 544, 545,
548.
Tennyson, A., The Centenary of. See Warren, T. H.
Terbourg 386
Thackeray, W. M 200, 342, 447, 507-508, 537
Theatre for Worldings, The 145 n
Theatre of Music (Playford) 333
Theatrum Pcetarum Anglorum (E. Phillips) . . . ;,■ 264
Theocritus 145, 365
Theresa of Avila, Saint 283, 284, 285, 286
Thomas de Hales 50
Thomson, James 344, 361, 387
Thomson, James. See Morel.
INDEX 618
Thompson, A. H., Works of Sir John Suckling, 252 n, 253 n, 254 n,
255 n, 256 n.
Thompson, Francis, 6SS-6S9; Selected Poems, see MeyneU, W.
Tichborne 140, 171
Tiersot, J., Histoire de la chanson populaire en France 42 n
Tinker, C. B. See Cook.
Tolstoi 470
Toplady, A 370
Tottel's Miscellany 126 n, 132, 1SS-1S6, 144, 195, 197, 368
Tourneur, Cyril 444
Traherne, Thomas, 328; Poetical Works, see DobeU.
Translations from Old English Poetry. See Cook.
Treasury of Sacred Song, The. See Palgrave.
Tristram Shandy (Sterne) 403
Les Trophies (De Heredia) 451
Troubadours at Home, The. See Smith.
Troubadours, Die Werke der. See Mahn.
Troubadours, Les. See Anglade.
Tudor 92
Tullia of Aragon 109
Turbervllle, George, 128, US, 144, 177; Poems, see Chalmers.
Turges 92
Tyard, Pontus de 136
Underbill, J., The Poetical Works of John Gay 343 n, 344 n
Underwoods ( Jonson) 225 n, 265
Underwoods (Stevenson) 511, 512
Unknown Eros, The (Patmore) 502
Unwin, Mary 374
Upham, A. H., The French Influence in EngUsh Literature from the
accession of Elizabeth to the Restoration 557
Vaganay, H., 107; Le Sonnet en Italie et en France au XF/me
Steele, 107 n, 557.
Vagantenlieder des Mittelalters , Die lateinischen. See Hubatsch.
Vanbrugh, Sir John 320
VanDyck 171,245,253
Varchi 109
Varia. See Flamini.
Vaughan, Henry, 268, 278, 284, 287-^9^, 328, 369, 389, 442, 511;
Poems, see Chambers, E. K.
Vaux, Lord ^^^
Venice Preserved (Otway) 319
Ventadorn, Bernart de 26, 27, 31
Vere, Edward. See Oxford, Earl of.
614 INDEX
Verity, A. W., The Works of Sir George Etheredge 331 n
Verlaine, Paul 413, 451, 515, 516
Veronese 149
Vianey, J., Le P^trarquisme en France au XVIme slide .... 136 n, 557
Vicar of Wakefield, The (Goldsmith) 365
Victorian Poets, The (Stedman, E. C.) 443
Vigny, Alfred de 375
Villon, Francois 73, 98, 538, 539
Vincent, Arthur, Poems of Thomas Carew, 346 n, 247 n, 348 n, 249 n,
350 n, 251 n.
Virgil 227, 247, 308, 358
Virginal Book, An Elizabethan. See Naylor.
Vision of Mirzah, The (Addison) 352
Visions (Du Bellay) 242
Visions (Spenser) 343
Vivian, P., Campion's Works 230 n
Viviani, Emilia 408
Volpone ( Jonson) 130
Voretzsch, C, Einfuhrung in das Studium der altfan. Lit 33 n, 556
Wace, 23. See Andresen.
Wagner 470
Walker, E., A History of Music in England 211 n, 558
Walker, Hugh, 478, 537 ; Literature of the Victorian Era, 478 n, 559.
Waller, A. R., Essays and Plays of Abraham Cowley, 309 n, 312 n;
Poems of Abraham Cowley, 309 n, 310 n, 311 n, 313 n, 314 n;
Poems by Richard Crashaw, 284 n, 385 n, 387 n; Prior, Dialogues
of the Dead and other works in prose and verse, 339 n, 341 n;
Prior, Poems on Several Occasions, 339 n, 340 n.
Waller, Edmund, 304-308, 309, 313, 330, 330, 346, 373; Poems, see
Drury.
Walsingham, Frances 148
Walton, Isaac 334, 361, 280, 282, 295, 307, 337, 543, 548
War Songs. See Stone.
Ward, T. M., The Poems of Johnson, Goldsmith, Oray and Collins,
365 n, 366 n.
Warren, F. M 35 n
Warren, T. H., The Centenary of Tennyson 498 n
Warton, Joseph, 361, 363, 552; Poems, 362 n.
Warton, Thomas (Senior), 362; Poems, 363 n.
Warton, Thomas, 361, 362-365, 368, 378, 423, 552; Poetical Works,
see Mant.
Watson, T 145-1^7, 169, 199
Watson, William, 351, 627, 544-548; Poems, 545 n, 546 n, 547 n, 548 n;
iVew Poems, 547 n, 548 n.
INDEX 615
Watteau 343
Watts, Isaac 369-370, 372, 494
Watts-Dunton, T 120, 555
Way of the World, The (Congreve) 254, 320
Webster, John 206, 444, 445
Wechssler, E., Kulturproblem des Minneeangs, Das 24 n, 29 n
Weckerlin, J. B., Chansons populaires du pays de Prance 37 n, 40 n
Werner, R. M., Lyrik und Lyriker 556
Werther (Goethe) 403
Wesley, Charles 370
Wesley, John 370
West, Richard ; 356
Westbrook, Harriet 408
Westminster 309, 338
Westminster Drolleries. See Ebsworth.
What d'ye call it. The (Gay) 344
Whitman, W 523, 549
Whythorne, Thomas, Songs composed and made by 209
Widsith 14, 15
Wilde, Oscar, 612-514; Poems, 512 n, 513 n.
Wilhelm Meister (Goethe) 398
Wilmot, John. See Rochester.
WilUams, Jane 421
WilUams, W 370
WiUis, N. P., 434 ; Pencilings by the Way, 435 n.
Wilton, Jack (Nashe) 126
Wine, Women and Song. See Symonds.
Winstanley, Lives of the most famous English Poets 257
Winstanley, L., Edmund Spenser: The Powre Hymnes 181 n
Wither, George S43-ZU, 251
Wolsey, Cardinal 94
Wood, Anthony 293
Wolfe, James 354
Wordsworth, William, 9, 106, 169, 173, 176, 221, 277, 292, 352, 357,
373, 375, 385, 390, 391, 392-398, 401, 402, 406, 407, 408, 409, 411,
418, 421, 434, 444, 463, 477, 483, 484, 490, 507, 512, 515, 531, 644,
545, 546.
Wotton, Sir Henry, 139, 262, 296, 330, 368; Poemw, see Hannah.
Wright, T., Specimens of Lyric Poetry, 53 n, 64 n, 65 n; Specimens
Old Christmas Carols, 84 n, 85 n, 86 n.
Wiilcker, R. P. — C. W. M. Grein, Bibliothek der angelsdchsischen
Poesie IS n
Wyatt, 78, 94, 97, 118-126, 127-128, 130, 132-136, 149, 518, 552;
Poetical Works, 121 n, 122 n, 124 n, 125 n, 126 n.
Wycherley 320
616 INDEX
Wyndham, G., Bonsard and the PUiade 557
Wynkyn de Worde 113 n, 209
Yonge, Nicholas, Musica Transalpina 211
Zassetsky, Madame 510
Zola 386, 552
Zepheria (Anon.) 159, 160