advising the reader of the effort with which they have been constructed, because of the paucity of double rhymes in English. In selecting for imitation two of the favorite measures of the Italian canzoni, my object was merely to introduce into my native language new metres which I thought would enrich its poetry, although bearing with them almost an impracticability for frequent composition, inasmuch as the difference between Italian and English accent, the former being usually on the penultima and ours on the last syllable of dissyllabic words, makes, what is in Italian verse an ordinary rhyme, a double one in ours. (1) But I cannot neglect so favorable an opportunity to bring forward certain remarks upon the present state of versification, and that slovenly practice of governing the modulation of the line merely by sound, which, from the great facility it gives to the poet, is so generally adopted. In explanation of this position, it will be permitted me I hope to make use of certain of my own stanzas, by showing how they might have appeared, had I availed myself of that indulgence which is conceded to all rythmical writers of the present day, and is embraced more or less by all the poets of this country, with one or perhaps with two exceptions. Taking Ode VIII. for my illustration, it will be observed that the measure consists of six syllables, as the accent of the final word of every verse properly determines its length, and the last syllable in the present case is therefore redundant: O loveliest of bow | ers. Now, as the writer goes on with his work, the mere melody of the measure suggests to him in a subsequent stanza, and elsewhere, She listen'd to my story, And believ'd the love I taught her, etc.; Then long we seem'd attending To the cricket's lazy chorus, With the murmur softly blending Of the rivulet before us, etc. But he perceives at once, that though musical, these verses are not (1) Either of these measures, however, can be made easy for English poetry by throwing off the last syllable, which may be said to be redundant even in Italian. The verse, though not so rich as it is now, will still have sweetness. accurately so; as musicians would say, they have tune but not rythm; thus: and, She listen'd to my story, And believ'd the love I taught her; Then long we seem'd attending To the cricket's lazy chorus, With the murmurs softly blending Of If he permit himself to admit them as they are, his task is easy; the reader, ten to one, will not perceive the negligence, because the flow of the verse is graceful; but the poet must stand condemned for want of art, and for inferiority of genius, since the test of his abilities must be found in his skill to overcome obstacles. There are indeed occasions when the rule which demands exactness of rythm may apparently be violated, and with advantage; but it is only apparently. I mean where such words as beautiful, delicate, desolate, and the like occur in the middle of a line. Here, the accent being on the first syllable, the voice is compelled to pass so lightly over the sequent one, that it is in fact slurred, and the time in pronouncing beautiful, delicate, and desolate, is in fact but two movements although there are three syllables; these three being enunciated more quickly than would be any other three in the line, or in other words in the same time as two syllables, or a single foot.(1) It is upon the same principle that in music we make a variety the piece before us is marked,, (double, triple time,) etc., but, in the same times, we may introduce a greater or less number of notes at pleasure. This grace (for such it is, when used with discretion) is by no means modern. Not to speak of the capacity of the ancient measures, which admitted, under certain circumstances, many syllables beyond the usual number supposed to constitute the verse, and of the modern Italian, which are regulated precisely on the same principle, though it may be under a different name, passing these, we have MILTON in our own language using this very ornament which is now so common, and, I think, somewhat extravagantly prevalent. (1) A like exception occurs when the accent is on the second syllable in words of four syllables; as magnificent, disconsolate, superlative, etc. In the time of POPE it was common to syncopate the redundant vowel. Thus we have heaven written heav'n; bower, (to rhyme with hour,) bow'r; and the like. This was done, not only where the redundant letter was wholly silent, but even where it might with advantage have been slightly sounded. The better practice in these cases is undoubtedly to leave the vowel in, though there are times when it would be well omitted. In the latter instances, the taste of the poet must be the only guide. There are also occasions when, in certain measures, exactness may apparently be violated by curtailing a verse. The rythm is in this case preserved by shifting the place of the inceptive accent. For example, in the Battle of the Baltic, the first strophe commences thus: Of Nélson and the North Sing the glorious day's renown. The rythm in both these verses is the same; yet the first has but six syllables, while the second numbers seven (glorious being of the class of trisyllables just mentioned). So in the same ode, the fifth verse of the stanza, which is decasyllabic in the three first strophes, becomes elsewhere a verse of nine syllables, by a like disposition of the initial accent. Thus : And her arms along the deep proudly shone. Their shots along the deep slowly boom. It will, I trust, be deemed not altogether irrelevant to the subject of poetic rythm, that I further extend this Preface by an examination of the pretensions of one of the greatest corrupters of verse that the age has known. I would do for Mr. SOUTHEY here, what I have sought to do in the Vision for Mr. Wordsworth, expose the imbecility of much of his own poetry, and examine his ignorant or his malevolent misrepresentation of the poetry of others. I make it a particular and most earnest request of the reader that he will not pass this matter, either through want of sympathy with my tastes and my motives, or from a fear of being wearied with a dry and tedious dissertation. My own interest will insure him brevity in the criticism; and for my motives, I have but one; one, for which alone, it seems to me, I have lived for these five last years, and for which I am ready to devote as many more, namely, the endeavour to stay, if possible, that rapid decline of good taste in literature which false poets and falser critics have been and are so assiduous in promoting. In this cause I shall think no exertion, however difficult, too arduous, no effort, however small, too inconsiderable: "Son pronto. . . . . ad ogni impresa: L' alte non temo, e l' umili non sdegno." For the sake of brevity, and for the greater entertainment of the reader, the plan which I adopted in the Vision with regard to Mr. Wordsworth's poetry and misrepresentations, I will pursue with Mr. SOUTHEY'S. It is to examine the opinions in his Prefaces, and see how they are sustained by his performance. I. Preface to Thalaba. "Let me not be supposed to prefer the rhythm in which it is written, abstractly considered, to the regular blank verse; the noblest measure, in my judgment, of which our language is capable. For the following poem, I have preferred it, because it suits the varied subject; it is the arabesque ornament of an Arabian tale. "The dramatic sketches of Dr. Sawyers, a volume which no lover of poetry will recollect without pleasure, induced me, when a young versifier, to practise in this rhythm. I felt that while it gave the poet a wider range of expression, it satisfied the ear of the reader." Let the reader judge: "The night is come, no fears disturb The dreams of innocence; They trust in kingly faith and kingly oaths, "Go to the palace, would'st thou know Eye is not clos'd in those accursed walls, Nor heart at quiet there." St. Bartholomew's Day. This is dated 1798, and is taken, at the opening of the book, from one of the three volumes of his Minor Poems. Now let us see if Thalaba, (a fine poem, be it observed, a very fine poem in some parts, notwithstanding the bad taste and vanity which dictated its strange medley of rythm,) let us see if Thalaba better satisfy the ear. We shall take, as before, what may happen to come first on opening the volume.— It proves to be not the worst sample of Mr. SOUTHEY'S singular numbers; but it will answer. It is the commencement of the third Book. "THALABA. Oneiza, look! the dead man has a ring: Should it be buried with him? ON EIZA. Oh yes.. yes! A wicked man! What e'er is his must needs Be wicked too!" This is certainly about as musical as it is poetical. "It were easy to make a parade of learning by enumerating the various feet which it admits; it is only needful to observe, that no two lines are employed in sequence which can be read into one." [See the lines above.] *** "One advantage this metre assuredly possesses, - the dullest reader cannot distort it to discord: he may read it prosaically, but its flow and fall will be perceptible." Let us see, again at the opening of the book: "Deserts of Araby! His soul return'd to you. He cast himself upon the earth, The voluntary vision up. A cry, as of distress, Arous'd him; loud it came and near! Her veil all rent, her garments torn!" etc. vi. 28. The reader must have indeed good ears, that can perceive the "flow and fall" of these verses, even when he reads them poetically. We have seen an experiment tried by no indifferent hand, |