produce a finer passage than that following the lines, The time shall come, when free as seas or wind The next piece inserted in the works of our poet comes opportunely to give you a taste of a new kind of composition, and new modes of versification. This is the ،، Ode for St. Cecilia's Day ;" a poem intended to be set to music, as were originally all those termed lyric, although at present they are frequently written without any such intention. They are all, however, expected to contain a species of music in themselves; that is, so to adapt the measure to the subject, as to accompany the changes of sense in the words, with correspondent changes of modulation in the verse. This music of poetry is reducible to no determinate rules, and different ears form very different conclusions respecting it indeed, it is possible for a skilful reader to give almost what expression he pleases pleases to any combination of long and short syllables. Yet it is certain that some are naturally better suited than others to particular emotions of the mind; and the opposite extremes of light and solemn, cheerful and plaintive, are capable of being marked with sufficient distinctness. How far the various melodies of verse can be made to coincide with the proper music of notes and tones, I confess myself unable to judge; but I cannot observe without disgust what effusions of nonsense and vulgarity are usually preferred by musical composers as the vehicles of their finest airs. The musician probably wishes to have the words so pliant as to conform to all the changes of strain which the rules of his art may require; but poetry and sense are not of so accommodating a nature. Pope's Ode, I believe, never acquired fame as a musical performance: as an experiment in the art of versification, it certainly deserves attention. You will remark that it begins with an imitation of sounds alone. There There is danger in such an attempt, lest, by aiming to approach too near, sense should be too much neglected, and the words should catch an air of the burlesque. Thus a great poet has given "The double, double, double beat of the thund'ring drum." Pope, however, has avoided any thing so extravagant, and his first stanza seems to imitate very bappily the music it describes. He proceeds to the imitation of action and sentiment, and the antient story of Orpheus and Eurydice is the principal frame for the expression. The story has been better told by other poets; for every thing is here made subservient to those changes of situation and passion which may display the writer's art in the adaptation of suitable measures. In some of these efforts he has been thought successful; in others much the reverse: but I do not wish to prompt your judg. ment by the opinion of others. Read and feel for yourself. The two "Choruses for the Tragedy of Brutus" which follow, were also intended to be set to music. They are probably too replete replete with thought for this purpose; but this is no objection to them, considered as poems to be read. They are very elegant pieces; and the touching picture of connubial love in the second of them deserves great praise as a moral painting. With respect to the peculiar structure of the stanzas, and the application of the antique terms of chorus and semi-chorus, strophe and anti-strophe, I shall make no remarks at present. Lyrical poetry, to which they belong, will be more fully considered hereafter. I do not mean to lead you without intermission through the works of this charming author; but in order to render your ear perfectly familiar with the tune, as it may be called, of his versification, I shall desire you not to lay him down till you have perused two or three more of his pieces in that measure of which he was the greatest master, the heroic. His "Elegy to the Memory of an unfortunate Lady" is a very finished composition, and has, perhaps, more of the pathetic than than any thing he has written besides; for in that quality he does not abound. You will perceive a fine effect from that artifice of writing, the repetition of words particularly energetic, in the following lines: By foreign hands thy dying eyes were clos'd, By foreign hands thy decent limbs compos'd, By foreign hands thy humble grave adorn'd, By strangers honour'd, and by strangers mourn'd. Examples of that sententious brevity which peculiarly distinguished our poet, are found in this piece, which does not in the least partake of the character of feebleness usually imputed to elegy. No writer has made such advantage of the obligation imposed by rhyme-couplets of comprising a sense within the limits of one or two verses: he has derived from it a nervous conciseness beyond the powers of prose, or blank verse. What can surpass the fulness and energy of meaning in such lines as these? And curs'd with hearts unknowing how to yield.Grieve for an hour, perhaps, then mourn a year.'Tis all thou art, and all the proud shall be.— |