Crabbed age and | youth
Cannot live together;
Youth is full of | pleasance,
Age is full of care;
Youth like summer | morn,
Age like winter | weather;

Youth like summer | brave,

Age like winter bare.

Shakspere.

It will be seen in these, as well as in the specimens that follow, that the last foot is frequently shorn of its unaccented syllable.

(c) of four feet (Tetrameter).

Hearken | to their | steady | stamp!
Mars is in their | every | tramp!
Not a step is out of | tune,
As the tides obey the | moon.

Byron.

Thus it is our | daughters | leave us,
Those we love and | those who love us!
Just when they have learned to help us,
When we are old and | lean up on them,
Comes a youth with | flaunting | feathers,
With his flute of | reeds, a | stranger
Wanders | piping | through the | village,
Beckons to the | fairest | maiden,
And she follows where he | leads her,
Leaving all things | for the | stranger!

Though in distant | lands we | sigh,
Parched beneath a | hostile | sky;
Though the deep between us | rolls,
Friendship | shall unite our | souls:
Still in | fancy's | rich domain
Oft shall we thus | meet again.

Why so pale and | wan, fond | lover?

Prythee, why so | pale?

Will, if | looking well can't | move her,

Looking ill prevail?

Prythee, why so | pale?

Longfellow.

Suckling.

Lay the proud usurpers | low!

Tyrants | fall in | every | foe!

Liberty's in every | blow!

Forward! | let us do, or die!

Praise the Lord! ye | heavens adore Him!
Praise Him, angels, | in the | height!
Sun and moon rejoice before Him!

Praise Him, all ye | stars and | light!
The last stanza is in the 8,7's of our hymns.

(d) Of five feet (Pentameter).

Virtue's | brightening | ray shall | live forever.

Then me thought I | heard a | hollow | sound,
Gathering up from | all the | lower | ground.
Narrowing in to ❘ where they | sat assembled,
Low voluptuous | music | winding | trembled.

(e) Of six feet (Hexameter).

Burns.

Tennyson.

Holy, Holy, Holy! | though the | darkness | hide Thee,
Though the eye of | sinful | man Thy | glory | may not | see,
Only Thou art | Holy: there is | none beside Thee.

Heber.

On a mountain, | stretched beneath a | hoary | willow,
Lay a shepherd | swain, and | viewed the | roaring | billow.

(ƒ) Of seven and eight feet (Hept- and Octameter).

Then we bounded | from our | covert. | Judge how I looked the | Saxons | then,

When they saw the rugged | mountain | start to | life with | armed |

men!

Like a tempest | down the ridges | swept the | hurricane of | steel; Rose the slogan | of Mac|donald |—flashed the | broadsword | of Lochiel.

Cursed be the

Cursed be the

Cursed | be the
Cursed be the

Aytoun.

social | wants that | sin against the strength of | youth! social | lies that | warp us | from the | living | truth! sickly | forms that | err from | honest | Nature's rule! gold that | gilds the ❘ straitened | forehead | of the | fool!

Tennyson.

Ah! distinctly I remember, | it was | in the | bleak December,
And each | separate | dying | ember | wrought its | ghost up on the floor.
Eagerly I wished the | morrow; | vainly | I had sought to | borrow
From my books sur cease of sorrow | sorrow | for the | lost Lenore—
For the rare and | radiant | maiden | whom the | angels | name Lenore-
Nameless here for | ever more.

Edgar Allan Poe.

It will have been noticed from the specimens given above, that licenses in this measure are not so varied, nor so frequently used, as in iambic metre. The chief is that an iambus is often used for a trochee in any part of the line, especially in the last foot. If the last foot is a trochee, it will form a double rhyme; but very often an additional accented syllable is added, forming a single rhyme. Note, in the last specimen, rhymes occurring in the middle of the line.

ANAPESTIC MEASURE.

Of trissyllabic verse, anapestic and dactylic are the most common; indeed, what is generally considered as amphibrach may be regarded as belonging to one of the other two measures, as will be fully shown hereafter. The rhythmical ring of trissyllabic poetry renders it peculiarly adapted both to lively and mournful subjects; but in narrative and description it is seldom employed. Poems of any length are never written in it; partly because the melody, which is its prominent feature, would become monotonous, and partly because its construction is more artificial, and imposes more verbal restrictions on the poet than he ought to have to contend with in great works. The licenses allowed in this kind of verse are many and varied; the introduction of other feet and additional syllables being almost the rule instead of the exception. In anapestic verse the rhyme is single when the metre is symmetrical, double when hypermetrical.

с

In this beautiful song, the melody of which is perfect, my own impression is, that the second foot in each verse consists of three unaccented and an accented syllable. Of course it be regarded as two iambics.

may

In the downhill of life, | when I find | I'm declining,
May my lot no less fortunate be

Than a snug elbow-chair | can afford | for reclining,
And a cot that o'erlooks | the wide sea.

Collins.

She is far from the land | where her young | hero sleeps,
And lovers around | her are sigh|ing;

But coldly she turns | from their gaze, | and weeps,

For her heart | in his grave | is lying.

Moore.

Note here that there is only one perfect verse in the four, and that this is the most perfect stanza of the poem.

False wizard, avaunt! | I have marshalled my clan;

Their swords are a thousand, their bo soms are one!
They are true to the last | of their blood | and their breath,
And like reaplers descend | to the harvest of death.

Campbell.
There the warrior lay stretched | in the midst | of his pride,
And the bridegroom fell dead | by the corpse | of his bride;
Unswept was the lyre, | and forsaken the lute,
And the lips of the minstrel for ever were mute.

(Pompeii) Anon.

I come! | I come! | ye have called | me long,
I come | o'er the mountains with light and song;
Ye may trace | my step | o'er the wak|'ning earth,
By the winds which tell | of the violets' birth,
By the prim rose stars | in the shadowy grass,
By the green leaves opening as I pass.

Not a drum was heard, | not a funeral note,
As his corse to the ramp art we hurried;
Not a soldier discharg|èd his fare well shot
O'er the grave where our hero we buried.

Hemans.

Wolfe.

O, young | Lochinvar | is come out of the west,
Through all the wide Bor|der his steed | was the best,
And save his good broad sword he weapon had none,
For he rode all unarmed, | and he rode | all alone!
So faithful in love, | and so dauntless in war,
There never was knight | like the young | Lochinvar !
Scott.

And the rose like a nymph | to the bath | addrest,
Which unveiled the depth of her glowing breast,
Till, fold after fold, | to the fainting air
The soul of her beauty and love | lay bare.

Shelley.