Robert Bridges a Critical Study

ROBERT BRIDGES

A C RITIC AL STUDY

F. E. BRETT YOUNG

LONDON M A R T I N S E C K E R NUM BER FI VE J OHN STREET A D E L P H I MCMXIV

ROBERT BRIDGES

A C RITIC AL STUDY

F E RETT OUNG ' . B Y

LONDON M A R T I N S E C K E R NUM BER FI VE J OHN STREET A D E L P H I

MCM X I V TO ALFRED HAYES

GENTLE POET AND

STE RN CRITIC N O T E

HAV E better e of I thought it , in this stimate livin e e e l a g po t, to xclud biographical detai s altogether ; and indeed they would have been out of place in a book which is nothing more than an attempt to explain to my own satis faction the peculiar excellences which have made the work of Robert Bridges so great a e o l ef p rsonal j y, and to examine my be i in its

signiﬁcance for the future of English poetry .

e D for h e I hav to thank r. Bridges is g nerous permission to quote not only many passages f n e of rom his own works , but also the son t his

f e e M r Ge ri nd , the lat . rard Hopkins , on page 1 43 h the . e e of t e Exc pt in the cas Plays , text from which quotations have been made is that f o the Oxford Edition of Collected Po ems .

B . F . E . . Y L A O L NTH NY, ul 1 J 1 4 . y, 9

C O N T E N T S

P RELIMINAR I ES THE RELI GION OF LOVE BEAUTY AND J OY FRESHNESS OF VIS I ON LANDSCAPE MILTON ’ S P ROSODY TH E P ROSODY OF B RI DGES TH E DRAMAS THE DRAMAS CLASSI C ISM CLASSI CAL P ROSODY CONCLUSIONS

P R E L I M I N A R I E S

THE vitality of any art - form is s een in th e willingness of the artist to b e engross ed in the e the compl x and intense , and it is in this spirit that he must approach th e expression e the of b auty , which is main business of art and also happ ens to b e a great deal of th e e e As e e e busin ss of lif . soon as b auty ngag s e e th e e mor than a c rtain part of att ntion , or offers more than on e asp ect to th e same

e e e e . O p rc ption , its xpr ssion becomes art ne might almost s ay that to voice a single asp ect e e e of b auty is common sp ech , to voic two at e th e e w e onc is art . But in high r forms of art e e the look for more than this . It may xpr ss intensity with which beauty is realized ; and t e e e this h poets call Joy . It may r cogniz the e e e ind structibl kinship of all beauty , and giv e the e W e expr ssion to und rlying unity , heth r it b e real or imaginary ; and this is generally e S e e e call d Vision . om tim s it reconcil s things which have seemed distant or oppos ed ; and 9 R O B E R T B R I D G E S when this is achieved in literature it is called the e not of Ecstasy . The three functions ee e e The k p a c rtain sequ nce . ecstasy of one artist is handed down as the vision of those e en d who com after him , and in the may be taken into the general consciousness of beauty . The ecstatic artist comes rarely ; he is an adventur er in art ; he generally starves or e di s young , for the world has naturally no use for him . is It not j oy, nor even ecstasy , but vision e t e e that distinguish s h gold n ages of art . We know them by th e number of. worshippers t e are e tha throng the templ . They p riods e e marked by an xtraordinary ﬂow ring of song , e e e e wh n very littl sing r is inspired , as if in e e e the e spit of hims lf , to utt r authentic acc nts e The are e is of g nius . v tim s when it not necessary for a man to b e an artist by stealth . e eur e There is br adth , and grand , and a c rtain unmistakable sanity about the art of thes e e e e ag s . It springs from the j oy of som obscur

- e e e half realiz d discov ry . By som means all things have fall en naturally into the sphere of

art ; art has b ecome easy . The age of Wordsworth was the last of

- these great fruiting times of English literature . It was less astonishing than the Elizabethan a e e g , for it took a l ss soaring ﬂight from the 1 0 P R E L I M I N A R I E S

the level that came before it . But later e e the achievem nt includ s earlier . The poetic method of Shakespeare was taken for granted by Shelley at a time when the technique of the Elizabethans had already been absorbed the and half forgotten . This age had all e e e e e e f atur s of a gr at p riod of lit ratur . It e e e was r stl ss , but confid nt ; it was lacking in several qualities of which the present age has — — enough humour, notably, but it had a con fident tread in places where w e can venture The a e the e only timidly or not at all . g of gr at Romantics gave way to an empty clamour of e e e the tongu s . It m rg d in Victorian com — promise an admirable phras e which covers the whole fi eld of literature to th e work of the msthetic s e Rossetti , of , of Browning , T nny son S The e th e and winburne . suns t of e e e e great r volutionary po ts , Mr . Ch st rton calls it ; and as a typ e of it he pres ents to us L a e e ord Macaulay . It was an g wh n politics and literature were confus ed to the damning the V of both , and to loss of ision , j oy and e b auty . It stops short of Bridges . He is one of th ese isolated poets whom it is difficult to classify unless it be with the e e e e isolat d poets of oth r ag s . Tim has a e e men fr akish way of mixing up her gr at . The first historian to analyse the dyn amics of 1 1 R O B E R T B R I D G E S literary movements will often have to search back for poets who are separated from their e e r al companions by a mass of little nam s . Som etimes he will have to pick up stragglers are e e who born a gen ration too late . The tru account of each great age of literature will e t e e e b gin with h voic s crying in the wildern ss .

For instance , the first poet of the greatest age of English letters was b eheaded six years e the befor birth of Shakespeare . Wyatt and Surrey have b een called the first of th e modems ; and Surrey is rememb ere d in text - books of literature because he natural e ized the Italian sonnet in th e English tongu . But there are points in his work which I find e The e mor significant . conc ntration of his genius upon the forms of the great Italians showed not merely a leavening of English e e e poetry with Europ an cultur . It impli d a ruthless discontent with the models of his e e e e e tim . It mbodi d , too , gr at t chnical innova S e was th e e ee the tions . urr y first po t to fr natural rhythms of English sp eech from the “ - t e e He five foot prison of h iambic lin . e e proclaim d distantly, and in a voic that e e e e e the som tim s falt r d , a new j oy which becam commonplace of th e great Elizabethans and at the same time h e kept his eyes steadfastly upon the golden times that had come before 1 2 P R E L I M I N A R I E S

S him . For urrey was a classicist , and has e e e left us a long v rsion of V rgil . I am r ady to e e e the b li v that court of Henry VIII , if it e e th e e car d for th se things , took l arning of men e those two young for p dantry . They may even have b een accus ed of a cold ” - w e carp entry of metre . But to day know that th ey were s eeking for n ew b eauty to e e e e e e xpr ss , and that th ir z al for anci nt mod ls e 1 was a tok n of their impatience . William Collins is another of thes e poets whos e importance has sometimes b een over et he e e stated ; y is v ry signiﬁcant , as ev ry e e real po t must b e in an age of sham po ts . e e Augustan art had fall n into a groov , or

e e - The rath r it had lodg d on a see saw . infant successors of Vergil and Horace lisped in

e e the e e e . h roic coupl ts , for h roic coupl ts cam The revolt of Collins took the same channels the e e He e as r volt of Wyatt and Surr y . look d for beauty in the ancient perfection of form the pris ca s ymmetri a bewailed by one of the l e the e bo d st innovators of R naissance .

0 bid our vain en deavours ceas e Re i e the ust esi ns of Greece v v j d g ,

In this c on nection it does n ot seemin opportun e to quote the case of a darin in n ovator in another art Richard Strauss a g , , ost- Wa nerian wh o ﬁ rst c hose to w rite music i n the manner of p g , M ozart or that of Arnold S chonb er who declares that he has ; g, learnt all he n ows froma stud of the music of ach of Mozart k y B , , of eethov n an f hm e d o ra s . B , B 1 3 R O B E R T B R I D G E S m he cried and later , impatient of the adden e ing mechanism of his contemporari s , he breaks into the soft unrimed stanza of the Ode to Evening which so nearly discards th e e e whol Augustan burd n of romance words . This gentle poem is on e of the most rebellious e e e things in lit rature . H r the lovely English words are allowed to speak for themselves ; the English landscape (Swinburne compares him with Corot) is unveiled as it had never ’ r been since th e enchanting morning of L Alleg o . Try to transpose

Upland fallows grey Re ect its ast coo eam ﬂ l l gl ,

And hamlets brown and dim- discovered spires

e e into th Augustan k y . the Ode e 1 747 But to Ev ning was written in , when Chatterton was still to pave the way for h e E e St e t v . of Agnes in a Ballad of Charity , and Thomson and Shenstone were slipping e t e e th ir chains in h Sp ens erian stanza . A littl later William Blake was to bring the aureole t e e et of mysticism into h languag . And y Blake and Collins were reactionari es in the strictest s ense of the word before th ey were e are e e innovators . Th y not v n among the e e e greatest poets . But th y w r dazzled with a 1 4 P R E L I M I N A R I E S

new j oy , a wakening consciousness of beauty , which was to ﬁnd its full expression long after e e e e e e th y w r sil nt . Th s poets of j oy , these e e e e sing rs b for sunris , are naturally dis satisﬁed with the worn poetic methods of l e their time , and as natura ly turn their yes e e back to gr ater mod ls . It was this dis content which turned Blake to the form of the e Elizab than lyric . It made him complain to the Muses to whom it was then fashionable to pay court

How have you left your ancient love That bards of old enj oyed in y ou The an ui strin s do scarce mo e l g d g ly v , The soun is orce the notes are few d f d , .

e e was 1 844 Rob rt Bridg s born in , of a H e e Kentish family . was six years old wh n the Poet Laureate s ealed his fame with In

e e - six e the M moriam , and tw nty wh n Idylls e e e e e w r ﬁnish d . His own ﬁrst volume of v rs e 1 873 was publish d in . Tennyson , Browning , e th e Arnold and Rossetti w re still writing , but e era en d dr ad Victorian was at an , though

. e Mr William Watson had yet to app ar , and Swinburne w as still regarded with suspicion e e e e in r sp ctabl circl s . His work has been issued for the most part e e e e e privat ly, and has be n appr ciat d by a v ry 1 5 R O B E R T B R I D G E S

e e small circle of read rs . His r cognition by literary men of the day has been narrower e e e ven than his r putation . His publish d work e e e e e e includ s s v n plays mod ll d dir ctly , even

e e - e e th e to d tails of stag craft , upon ith r Elizabethan manner or a mixture of any manners but the modern on e that is derived ’ e e e e e from T r nc s H autontimorum nos , and is partly a translation ; two masks in th e Greek manner ; a long version of Vergil in classical prosody ; and five little books of Shorter oems are e e P , which curiously divid d ; th y are either direct formal imitations of Victorian e e e are e and Elizab than mod ls , or th y writt n e s o e e in a mann r entir ly fr sh and original, e with such advanc d technical skill , that we feel the innovator and the inventor in every e lin . ’ ee e the Ind d , Bridges discont nt with models of his day is the most obvious feature of his h e e work . If was brought up on T nnyson and the e ee e Browning, r sult has b n a compl te e the e br aking away from m thods of both . From th e first his eyes have b een fixed on the e e e e H e e e gr at ag s of lit ratur . could not br ath t e e e th e - su h atmosph r of drawing room . I p e it e e e pos is natural nough that this t nd ncy , though it is only half his significance as a e e e e po t , should hav hoodwink d a gr at part of 1 6

R O B E R T B R I D G E S

e sings . If he is a po t of the study he is much e e He mor a poet of fi ld and hedgerow . is the first man to bring the atmosph ere of the English landscape into poetry with all its e e e d licat chang s and shifting colour . The e impetus of the romantic mov ment , of Words S e e so worth , hell y, K ats and Coleridge, was ’ strong that even in Tennyson s day English poetry had not drifted s o far from nature as era th e in the Augustan . But Victorian con vention e was w aring thin , and the first three books of S horter Poems were as direct a ’ return to natural b eauty as Collins Ode to e n ew Ev ning . There is a freshness of vision , a e pow r of direct expression , which lets a flood e of fresh air into cont mporary art . With it , th e too , is a perception of beauty of simple words which is quite foreign to late Victorian e po try . Here is a man whose work includes the old e e the paradox of gr at b ginnings . For spirit, the e he and partly for form , of his po try, stands already high enough to look back unhindered at the great ages behind him and to refer his work to lasting models and at the same time he has evolved a form and a spirit essentially

new . As a poet he is not among the greatest he treads too delib erately the middle course

between imagination and fact , without the 1 8 P R E L I M I N A R I E S inclusive vision that is the crowning glory of

. e the classic style He lacks , too , the sustain d ecstasy of imagination which is the birth of e e right the gr atest poets . And his g nius e e e has an indol nt cast , as though he wer cont nt merely to seize what he may of a constant flow of b eautiful impressions and to fit it to the e most b autiful and varied language . the e e e But of r al stuff of po try, of b auty , e and of j oy , of perfect sympathy and expr s e sion , he brings us more than any poet sinc he s o e e Keats , whom nearly approach s in she r e e grac and richn ss of diction . As a lyric poet he is more consistently fine than Keats as a e e e m trist h is with Milton . Most of his collect d S horter oems e the P hav , I think , authentic e One accent of immortal v rse . can only guess how far this originality of metre and the precision and sincerity of his Nature poems may form the basis for a new school of English Ve No rse . great poet of his class , isolated , at e e e et onc r vivalist and inv ntor , has y failed sooner or later to influence the growth of our e e lit ratur , and a new flowering of English as e poetry h been long d layed .

1 9 T H E R E L I G I O N O F L O V E

TH RE E years after the date of his ﬁrst published e e work , a now extinct coll ction of lyrical po ms , e 1 8 73 e The Growth print d in , the ﬁrst sonn ts of e e his of Love appeared . Rob rt Bridg s was in

- e He e thirty third y ar . had r ached a season of life to which neither Keats nor Shelley ever ’ attained ; one at which Coleridge s year of e S billine e marvels had clos d , and the y leav s all ee e is of his friend had b n scatter d . It representative of the serious temper of the man that this blossoming should have been so e e e long withh ld , for the ﬂow r of po try is one e s o that t nds to burst early from its sheath . Ne e th e e e et e ith r t chniqu nor y , in any gr at e e The Growth o Love d gr e , the matter of f suggests the work of a young man th ere is s o e on e the littl in it that could wish , in light of u e e et later work , remo ld d or unwritt n . And y he does not overwhelm us with any high e midsummer pomps of song . His g nius awakens with the slow unfolding of a Northern 20 T H E R E L I G I O N O F L O V E

e . spring , beneath ski s of a chilly tenderness e the Po try , with him , is from first a sober e fin e e e as cstasy , shrinking from xtravaganc e e the e e from a br ach of tast , and from m r sensuous indulgence of words as from a laps e in the ideal of conduct which his 77 9 0 9 already e defin s . e e the Her , inde d , is one of tokens of youth , that absorption in a moral idea which in Shelley became a passion for reforming the world but in Bridges the passion is limit e e ing rather than xpansiv . There is a staid e e e e ness , a conscious s v rity in thes sonn ts which s eems strange in the work of a young e the e man , and strang r still in treatm nt of e e L such a subj ct for lov , that ord of Terrible e e e Asp ct , is her compelled to take its plac in e e a sort of r ligious scheme , of which its lf is the oh crown and fulfilment . This conception viously suggests a comparison with the imagina tive love of the great Florentines ; and while are e e they too individual to be call d d rivative , it is fair to s ay that th es e sonnets carry a e S e strong Renaissanc flavour . ometimes th y are as sweet and p ensive as Dante ; ardent sometimes with that vagu e desire for abstract beauty which quivers beneath the passive e e e sonn ts of Micha lang lo . And the author e e e must hav b en conscious of his mod ls , for 2 1 R O B E R T B R I D G E S in the seventh of the s et he hints that the j oy of Love is surely bringing him towards

A grace of silence by the Greek unguesst ’ d t im t iz t That bloom o mor al e the Tuscan s yle .

Within his limitations he has succeeded in N e e N this . owh r else , save in the Vita uova , e e e e do s lov , and love that n ver wholly los s s o the touch with humanity, rise nearly to e the e e dignity of a r ligion . At times int ns seriousness of thes e early sonnets threatens to hide the lover in the vestments of the priest . And I think it is this lofty sacram ental feeling e e the which inv sts each of these poems , ven e e e e e mor trivial and t nd r , with th ir strang e the e sol mnity ; as though whol world were , e e e to him , a t mpl of lov , and he the celebrant e of an auster ritual . In common with most religions his ecstasy is made a means of escap e from life ; for

man hath sped his instinct to outgo The step of scien ce and against her shame s Imagination stakes out heavenly claims i r Bu lding a towe above the head of woe. Or again

smi e outfaceth ill and t at old eu Thy l , h f d ’ a i i r w Twixt things nd me s quash d n ou ne truce .

In one of the loveliest sestets in th e language 22 T H E R E L I G I O N O F L O V E

e e he tells of the b wild ring calm to which , e through lov , he may attain

And w en we sit a one and as I ease h l , pl ’ I taste thy love s full s mile and can en state The easure of m in eart at ease pl y k gly h , M t ou t s wims i e a s i t at wit the wei t y h gh l k h p , h h gh Of her rich burden sleeps on the in ﬁnite s eas ’ B ecalmd and cannot stir her o en rei t . , g ld f gh

Even when he breathes that diviner air he is conscious of the perilous height at which his ideals are pois ed Yet lieth the great er s o few e e b e are e bliss far aloof, that th r w aned e e from earthly lov , he sings and a little lat r he shies again at those whom the ﬂames of ” e earthly love devour . It seems as if th re were no room in his sch eme of Spiritualized love for many of the th emes on which poetry has fed ever since the springtime of song ;

the e - e as if bulk of English lov po try , from the l S e e e E izabethans to winburn , w re judg d by him as lacking in essential fastidiousness ; as if even the Renaissance were a little too is w e e frank . It not until r ach the ﬁrst e e Epistl in Classical Prosody, publish d thirty ’ e L e y ars later , that we learn anything of ov s

J o s t at ear to be name ee in s too o to aze on y h f d , f l g h ly g And with his inviolate peace- triumph hi s passionate war his mi t esire t ril in ecstasies ar ours gh y d , h l g , d m stic re erence his erce ﬂame- ea er emotions Of y v , ﬁ g ,

I o atrous ser ice in ait and ritua of ﬁre . d l v , bl d f h l 23 R O B E R T B R I D G E S

In his age he stands within hand - clasp of e e is the e Whitman . H r substitut of youth

e e ﬂame - e l e for thos ﬁ rce , eag r in s

The mystery of joy made manifest ’ I n love s self- answering and awakening smile Whereby the lip s in won der reconcile P a io it e e i ss n w ac and s ow es re at rest . h p , h d

And I suppos e it is b ecaus e he has made of love a religion that w e meet with this unusual element in th e early work ; for every religion wins to its ecstasies by virtue of some renuncia he e e tion , and has r concil d passion with peace e e e by sacriﬁcing som of its ardours . But th r

are e e e e e e e . e vari ti s of r ligious xp ri nc K ats , whom w e shall shortly s ee that Bridges has e e handl d som what roughly , also thought of

e e lov as a r ligion . “ ee e he e My cr d is lov , wrot to Fanny are P er B raw ne e . , and you its only t net ’ ’ haps Keats conception of love s religion was ’ e e Eleusinian . Bridges is mor n arly love the e according to Book of Common Pray r . e This Puritanism , as it has been call d, crops up so freely in the early sonnets and has b een s o often remarked as to b e worth considering e e th e furth r , for it p rsists throughout mass

e - the e the of his lov poetry into critical ssays ,

e e . the plays , and the v rsion of Apul ius Even Later oems th e e has P , in which t mple of love 24

R O B E R T B R I D G E S

the l in hardware and woollen goods , nationa art accepted a reactionary standard of prudery e the e compar d with which art of any p riod , ’ e e e e xc pt that of Cromw ll s Commonw alth , was e e w e licentious . In spite of all this , I b liev ’ can neglect the inﬂu ence of the era on Bridges The e his poetry . Victorians were as littl teach ers in manners as th ey were his masters in technique ; and I think the very individu e ality of that t chnique , its colour , its clarity , e e its virginal swe t air , were nough to cleanse e e e it of that taint . Th re is in th se po ms a sincerity of outlook which makes the loves of e e th ir Galahads and Arthurs s em shoddy . I have spoken already of the Victorian com e e un promis . The puritanism of Bridg s is fe compromising, and , dif ring thus subtly from e e has the attitud of his cont mporaries , he carried his fastidious taste unchanged into an age in which reticence is not a characteristic e the e of our po try . From essay on K ats , one gathers that Bridges hims elf appreciated the e e uncl anness of the Victorian v neer . This work is , in a way , an apologia for his own atti e on e e tud , and no r ading can doubt that it e rings tru .

’ A lamentabl e d eﬁciency in Keats art which vitiates much of his work is brought into unusual 26 T H E R E L I G I O N O F L O V E

romnence the su ect of En mion and a p i by bj dy , th t is his very sup erficial an d unw orthy treatment of his a aract rs I t mi t b e art accounte id eal femle ch e . gh p ly d ’ for thu s K eats art is p rimarily objective and ctoria and w ate er ot er ua ities it has are a s pi l , h v h q l it were add ed on to thin gs as p erceived ; an d this re u res a satis actor ictoria asis wh c in the q i f y p l b , i h , ’ man i n ot ist in at im case of i ea w o d d e K e s e . d l , x t Neither the Roman n or the Renaissance id eal s w ere un erstoo and the t n convention of c as sic sm d d , hi l i wh ch w e ma s ee in the w or s of West an d Can o a i y k v , was played out so that the rising artists (an d K eats ” with t em n in not n to b e inten se u on h ) , fi d g hi g p , turne to Nature an d ro uce romEn ish mo e s d , p d d f gl d l the omes ic - e e e w ch ru e t rou out the d t b ll typ , hi l d h gh secon uarter of the centur e ra in our oets d q y , d g d g p as we as our ainters I t w as an a and the more ll p . b l , ideal an d ab stract it sought to b e the more empty it ecame so that it was the ortrait- ainters on i e b , p p ly , l k Lawren ce who ha in to do wit in i i ua e res , , v g h d v d l xp sion of su ecti e ua ities esca e romthe meann ess bj v q l , p d f , n re r s nte w omen w om w e can sti a mr a d p e e d h ll d i e . K eats e ores in on e of his e ers that he w as d pl , l tt , ’ not at ease in w omen s s oc et an d w en he attri i y , h butes this to th eir n ot an swering to his p recon ception of them it oo s as if he were see in his i ea amon , l k k g d l g Certain what a ears to be the e ine t on them. ly pp d l a i of his conception often offen d s taste without raising the ima ination and it revea s a ain im os si e g , l pl ly p bl oun a ion for i ni e assion in the re resentation f d t d g fi d p , p of w ich K ats ai I con c u e hat he su ose h e f led . l d t pp d th at common exp ression s b ecame s piritualized by 27 R O B E R T B R I D G E S

e n a a ra se is i en b i g pplied to an idea . Wh tever p i g v ’ to Keats work must always b e with this reservation and he generally does his b est where there is no O or un t for his n of au pp t i y t ki d f lt .

One feels that all this is rather hard upon ’ the e e consumptiv ch mist s assistant . Keats was never a favourite of the critics ; and when one turns in pity from this essay to the e e e pag s of Endymion , and ﬁnds th re po try , e e e simpl , s nsuous , impassion d , as Milton e e e would hav had it, and v ry passabl god e e e e e d ss s too , the question ris s wh th r the careful avoidance of this kind of fault in the love - poetry of Bridges does not constitute e e Th e e a d f ct . wond r is that with a passion which is literally incomplete h e remains s o “ ” e e Di niﬁe gr at a lov poet . g d passion is e H e the phras . is ashamed

T o have used means to win so pure acquist .

His tears even

were rou ro s and had m ea e to a p d d p , y l v f ll ,

Not on thy pity for my pain to call .

In another sonnet h e ﬁnds it necessary to

e e- e make excus s for writing lov po try at all . All through the ﬁrst part of The Growth of Love e runs this haughty disdain of motion , 28 T H E R E L I G I O N O F L O V E haughty because it obviously subserves a spiritual egotism

She o es me rst ecause I o e her t en l v ﬁ b l v , h Lo es me for nowin wh she s ou be o e v k g y h ld l v d ,

And t at I o e to raise her o es a ain . h l v p , l v g

I have dwelt at some length upon this aspect of the sonnets not only b ecaus e the later conception of Love is no more than a e e e the logical d v lopm nt from first type , but e e also because it xplains , by inf rence , a good deal of the difficulty which some readers and critics have found in getting into touch with e e his work . Many writers hav call d him cold , and it is obvious that the appeal of poets whos e works do not show them as men of e like passions with ourselv s is limited . I think the word shy more nearly represents S the idiosyncrasy of his work . omewhat ” sh e e difli cult y , somewhat aust r , fastidious , , e e says his fri nd the President of Magdal n , hinting at qualities which are by no means rare in the English temperament though seldom e pres nt in our literature . And the only key to the understanding of such poetry or of such a e temp rament is love . The earlier sonnets show all these qualities

in a high degree , for though he is undoubtedly master of the art which for thy sake I 29 R O B E R T B R I D G E S

e the e - s rve , attitude of mind is s lf conscious ;

- e s et but the twenty third sonn t of the , which e e e seems to ush r in a s cond p riod , shows us the e e e for the ﬁrst time po t unc rtain of hims lf , doubting whether his s earch for the face of beauty without blame will ever lead him to happiness .

0 wear i rims c antin of our woe y p lg , h g y , at turn our e es to all the ea s t at s ine Th y y p k h h , Hai in in eac the cita e i ine l g h d l d v , ’ The whi ch y e thought to have enter d long ago Until at length your feeble steps an d slow Fa ter u on the t res o of the s rine l p h h ld h , And your hearts overburdened doubt in ﬁne Whether it b e J erusalemor no

Dis earten e il rims I amone of ou h d p g , y ’ For a in worshi d man a arren ace , h v g pp y b f , ’ I scarce now greet the goal I journey d to I stan d a pagan in the holy place B eneat the am of trut I am oun untrue h l p h f d , A nd question wi th the God that I embrac e . It would be as unproﬁtable and indelicate to reconstruct a love - story from this s eries of sonnets as it would be to set down in prose the emotional history of the hero of Maud but I do think it signiﬁcant that as the poems stand in sequence they express a real develop ment of the ideal of love in depth and in humanity ; so that the title of the work becomes something more than an apt heading in 30 T H E R E L I G I O N O F L O V E

e The Growth o L ove capital lett rs . f is not merely a chronicle of the poetical moods which

e e - e e chequ r a lov story , lik sev ral of the famous e w ee e sequenc s ith which it has b n compar d , but a true history of the psychology of love . This philosophical basis gives it the most Vital kind of form ; and there is more of the essence of drama in it than in all the dramatic e The e works put togeth r . throes of wound d pride in the thirty - second sonnet

’ Thus to be humbled tis to b e un done ’ A forest fell d a city razed to groun d with its triumphant climax

And et 0 o er t ee the ruine one y , l v , h , d , ’ Love who hath humbled thus hath also crown d together with the manly and tender humility

- of the thirty third, seem an inevitable prologue to the radiant fervour of the next

0 my goddess divine sometimes I say Now let this word for ever and all sufﬁce ou art insatia e and et not twice Th bl , y Can even thy lover give his soul away And for m acts t at at th eet I la y , h y f y For ne er an ot er e ice v y h , by d v O wis om o e or eaut cou entice f d , l v b y, ld M oma e to th f is a y h g e measure o th d y .

I a e no more to i e t ee lo I a e so h v g v h , h v ld M i e a e em tie out m eart and s ent y l f , h v p d y h , p 31 R O B E R T B R I D G E S

’ W ate er I had ti i e a e ar o h ll l k b gg , b ld Wit nou t to ose I au and amcontent . h gh l , l gh A e ar isses t ee na o e e o b gg k h y , l v , b h ld , I ear not t ou too r i b rmn f h a e n egga e t .

I would commend the examination of this poem to those who have found the art of Robert Bridges a cold carpentry of metre

e e - e this magniﬁc nt whit hot thing , simpl , et e d e has strong , y passionat ly aban on d . It e fe t t e v ry w equals in he history of he sonn t . The glow which it sh eds before it irradiates all e e The e e that imm diat ly follows . n xt sonn ts are all sunny and s erene :a record of the sweetest love in idleness .

Sim e en o ment c a min its e cess pl j y l x , Wit not a rie to clou an d not a ra h g f d , y Of passion over hot my p eace to oppress Wit no am ition to re roac e a h b p h d l y, Nor ra r t istur i s i ptu e o d b t happ ness .

U e ntil , a little later , ther gather on the sk horizon of this cloudless y faint vapours , such as those which tenderly mark the close of

a day in high summer . It is a wistfulness not e new in literature , this sens of tears which e haunts the silences of extrem happiness . I suppose the contemplation of the highest beauty in art or nature is never wholly free

from it , and it is ﬁtting that the new note should follow the rapture of that exalted 32

R O B E R T B R I D G E S

And when he sees childhood upon the threshold e e of xperi nce , knowing how

in the forest among many trees Scarce one in all is found that hath made good The vi rgin pattern of its Slender wood

he cries

’ So itt e chi ren e na na e ne er , l l ld , y , y y , y Fromme s a l earn how sure the c an e and i h l l h g n gh . W en e s a s are our stren t and mourn to s are h y h ll h g h h .

The softening of regret with pity is the broad i n e e e distinction , this cas , b tween Bridg s and

Wordsworth ; and here , as I have already e th e not d , it is in want of a mystical faculty , in the overburdening of the po etic thought e he with a moral id a , that falls short of Words ’

. O e e he worth s magic nc , and only onc , does allow us the atmosphere of wonder without a

e - e mak w ight .

W en ancient n ature was all new and a h g y , Li t as the as ion t at ot ast ent ra gh f h h d h l h l, A mi t n ature w en m eart was sma h gh y , h , y h ll , ’ Nor dreamd what fearful searchi ngs underlay The owers an d ea ecstas of Ma ﬂ l fy y y ,

The reat in summer s ot the scente a . b h g l h , d f ll

And this does not suggest Wordsworth s o e e e much as Trah rn . This is how Trah rne puts it in his third century of m editations Cer tainly Adam in Paradis e had not more sweet 34 T H E R E L I G I O N O F L O V E and curious apprehensions of the world tha n I e e when I was a child . I was a littl strang r e which , at my entranc into the world , was saluted and surrounded with innumerabl e j oys . All things were Spotless and pure and ea e e glorious ; y , and inﬁnit ly min and j oyful e and precious . I knew not that ther were any

. re sins , or complaints , or laws I d amed not of e poverties , contention , or vices . All t ars and e e e e e quarr ls wer hidd n from mine yes . Ev ry at ee So thing was rest , fr and immortal . that with much ado I was corrupted and made to learn the dirty devices of this world . Dusty damned experience is what e e e Bridg s calls th m . Under the same h ading as these po ems on childhood falls the magniﬁ of : e cent portrait a mother T ars of love , tears of j oy and tears of care and I suppose that the ﬁrst feeling which inspires all of them is really nothing more than the Chaucerian B onthe the p iétd of Dante and Michael angelo ; the pity which Bridges hims elf addresses in the Christi an C aptives sweet e pity , of human sorrow born , that mak s

The eart of man so sin u ar t at he a one h g l , h l Himself commiserating against heaven P us es com aint and n s wit in his eart h pl , ﬁ d h h Roomfor all creatures t at i e himare orn , h l k b

To suffer and perish . 35 R O B E R T B R I D G E S

With almost every sonnet of the series his love seems to gather a little more of the

humanity which at ﬁrst was lacking . The complacent arrogance of the early po ems is e e e soft n d . He rails against prodigal natur

who makes us but totaste one p erfect j oy . ’ ed ruin d e e O From this neglect , diﬁc f works imperfected and broken schemes comes the bitter call

Wh ere is the promise of my early dreams The smile of beauty and the pearl of price

’ The forty - seventh sonn et : Since then tis ” e only pity looking back , F ar looking forward , t e ee e e onl is a cry out of h d p . Th r is v one m e f e bal for such su f ring as this . The b autiful S e e invocation to le p , more tir d and more e S ey e t nder than that of ydn , brings darkn ss upon this mood of fretfuln ess the only passage of the kind that breaks the consistent ’ optimism of Bridges work .

Come ent e s ee I woo t ee come and ta e , g l l p , h k Not now the c i into t ine arms rom ri t h ld h , f f gh Com ose rows tune and s a e i t p d by d y h d d l gh , Whomignorant of thee thou didst nurse and make ’ Nor now the b o who scorn d t ee for the sa e y , h k rowin now e e or m sterious ni t Of g g k l dg y gh , ’ Tho wit ati ue t ou i st his im s in ite h f g h d d l b v , And heavily weigh the eyes that would not wake 3 6 T H E R E L I G I O N O F L O V E

No nor the man s e ere who romhis est , v , f b Fai in a ert ﬂed to t ee t at his reat l g, l h , h b h , B oo orce and ﬁre s ou come at morn redrest l d , f h ld B ut me romw omth c omort tarriet , f h y f h , For all my wakeful prayer sent without rest m ea To t ee O s ew and s a ow of t . h , h h d y d h

0 shew and shadow of my death again the voice is the voice of Dante . And after this there is nothing that is not e sunny and beautiful and wis ; for hope , ’ beyond the best of art or nature s kindest ” phase , returns ; and j oy, a nobler , maturer j oy, a new tower above the head of woe, rises from the ruins of the old egotism . All is tender and strong out of his strength comes The e e forth sweetness . simpl and lov ly para ’ of L e phrase the ord s Prayer nds the sequence .

37 B E A U T Y A N D J O Y

THE e lyrics of Robert Bridges , almost alon of e his work , hav commanded a certain amount

e . S e of popular att ntion , if not of fame inc the publication of the ﬁrst four books of S horter oems 1 8 9 0 e e P , in , no f wer than sev n e e e r prints hav appeared . After som twenty e the Shorter oems e y ars of obscurity, P hav found another score years of comparatively t e vigorous life upon h lips of men . One suspects that even s o they have app ealed only e to a small company, how ver devoted . Pos sibl e e e y , again , th y have be n widely r ad and loved by a public that has quite failed to appreciate the richness of its possession ; for an unaffected love of nature and of nature poems is far commoner in this country than the difﬁcult art of reading poetry for its own sake .

At any rate , these ﬁve books of short poems , hardly one of which covers more than a small page , have entirely eclipsed the whole mass of 38 B E A U T Y A N D J O Y

’ e the V e the po t s work in public i w . For one reader who has worked his way through the five Nero e e thousand odd lines of , th r must be a score who have most of the Shorter Poems e No e so e by h art . judgm nt is un rringly e accurat as that of a small and constant public . It has been claimed that the lyrics have bulked unfairly in criticism and appreciation of the poet but I believe that they will b e held just ’ as repres entative of Bridges genius fifty years e e henc , when the plays , sonn ts and masks will have had ample time to filter into public e consciousn ss . That th ey will be popular with the popularity e e is of entir und rstanding and love , so long as the common conception of poetic t echnique and worth stands at its present indefinite

e e . pitch , in the natur of things impossibl

Their present appeal is that of simplicity , e e e e of sinc rity , of g n ral grac of diction and e No charm of mann r . volume of lyrics ever so ee e published has been fr from what is w ak , le the undesirab , or product of some chance,

deceiving inspiration , which seems on the morrow like the empty words of a dream ” is remembered on waking . Each , of its kind , perfect and even to - day perfection of kind is recognized where its means are not under s tood . 39 R O B E R T B R I D G E S

But it is not by such a standard that they

e . l ought to be judg d They hold actual y , and for reasons that can b e definitely written ’ th e e down , flower of Bridg s work . In that e e higher court in which poets judg po try , and e e e th e e time pond rously ndors s v rdict , the ems e e e S horter Po will tak th ir plac infallibly , e e f e acquitt d of bl mish , a f ctation , untruth , e e the fashion and littl n ss , among finest pro e e are ducts of English g nius . Th y simple , with the fin e simplicity of the Greek anthology they have a po etic richness and warmth of colour unknown since Keats ; and they show th e unfailing moral dignity which Voltaire assigned as th e special birthright of the e e e e English po ts . Th y hold conc ntrat d the j oy and vision that b elong to an age of poetic are awakening . When they imitative it is with th e love of great p eriods of literature ’ which is characteristic of a poet in Bridges e position . And alongsid this tradition which e the fin e ass rts , in a manner , continuity of e e lit ratur , is an intense originality in tech e niqu , an adaptation of form to matter , which has hardly b een approach ed since the golden L e e e age of atin po try . Thes sp cial po etic virtues are b etter seen in the S horter Poems the e than in any of less spontan ous work . They are least laboured when th ey are most 40

R O B E R T B R I D G E S

S lesser poet . eeking the subtle beauties of new rhythms and strange technical beauties e e : e he has wand r d far ind ed , I think that whole n ew tracts of loveliness have opened before him ; but in the choice of themes he has restricted the ﬁeld of poetry more than ee e any of his p rs , rar ly venturing forth in e the e e s arch of unusual , b ing cont nted within t e t e e e h limits of h hom li st j oys . I have already spoken of his distaste for the th e e e physical . In all poems th r is only one ’ e N - r ference to ature s wonder of arch wonders , h er fair animal life and that is in the E is tle I I e e e p , wh re it is vid nt that he allows e e himself an unusual latitude of th m . Even Eros and s che e e e in P y , a po m that lies ste p d e the e in lazy Cretan sunshin , unveil d beauty ’ of a woman s form never shines among the e the . So oliv s , with mighty ardours of physical passion he puts away the tenderness of maternity . Even the pageants of history do not call him save in the minute methods of Nero while heroism in the abstract is for gone , for the poems of the Boer war are e e intensely p rsonal in fe ling , and hardly happy in expression . Just as Bridges can speak of

’ the Dutchman s implacable folly The country of Shakespeare defying 4 2 B E A U T Y A N D J O Y

Tennyson writes of Napoleon

He t ou t to ue the stu orn earts of oak h gh q ll bb h , Madman

But Tennyson also wrote The Revenge and th e O De the D k e de on the ath of u e of W llington , while in the very next po em to the u nfor tun ate Buonaparte sonnet he proclaims ” e Alexander Warrior of God . H re is ’ Bridges opinion of the two of th em

’ at was A e an er s su uin of Asia or t at Wh l x d bd g , h ’ S ee - worr of Euro e w en i m Na o eon enter d h p y p , h p g y p l Her so erei n c am ers and her in s wit terror v g h b , k g h ’ eclips d ’ His footsore s oldiers inciting across the ravag d plains ’ Thro bloody ﬁelds of death tramping to an ugly disaster S ows an crown set a o e the romise so ru e h y , b v p ( d ly accomplisht) t eir air o i e oun aces a or to com are Of h f g dl k y g f , gl y p ’ With the immortal olive that circles b old Galileo s

B rows .

This is his poetical substitute for the heroics c onfla ration s of war . And since the g of human passion and the heroes which emerge s o e from them fire him littl , it is natural that e e heroic associations should not move him ith r . It may b e urged that th es e things are only a small part of the stuff from which lyrics are S made . Tennyson , Browning and winburne , in very different ways , have proved that the 43 R O B E R T B R I D G E S lyric may be essentially dramatic in form ; and it is notable that from the lyrics of Robert Bridges the more heroic moments of the a e He human drama r absent . puts behind him also th e whole tradition of Romantic e is e e b auty ; beauty , that , which is r inforc d by association ; and with it magical beauty the e e of Christab l typ , and the beauty of the ee he e rie , which ssays once , and bungles , in e S m T So the the po m on crea ing arn . much of e e e old mat rial h has sacrific d . What has he left us ; and can there be any beauty that is n ew I will grant that in these Shorter Poems it would b e difli cult to hit upon anything that is sp ecifically modern (although their flavour is e e as mod rn as Euripid s) , and yet there is just ”

b e . as little that can called ancient Timeless , is on e of his favourite adj ectives ; and the beauty in which he rejoices is generally e e without tim . Even in poetical mat rial there is such a thing as fashion . The sorrow of Werther belongs as distinctly to the eighteenth century as the sorrow of Priam over the body of Hector belongs to none and it is in the latter category that I would place the bulk of the beauty which Bridges uses . Of such is the imperishable stuff of poetry . e e his e Within th s , own limits , there is littl 44 B E A U T Y A N D J O Y

beauty that he has not made more lovely for the things of which h e writes come to on e e e with the poignance of a personal exp rienc . e e It is evident , too , that he appr ciat s e e e simple beauti s , or groups of Simpl b auties , rather than the complex ; and to him the appeal of these is so strong that he holds them

- e t No has self sufﬁci n . poet but Wordsworth leaned upon them so conﬁdently without calling in extraneous app eals to increas e or e e intensify th ir m aning . I think that a part of the great strength of his poetry li es in th ese The e very limitations . b auty of which he sings is that of unalterable things : the nightingales of Heracleitus the sharp - prowed

ships of Homer fire and snow trees , flowers he and cities . And in every case has made them peculiarly intimate . With his art , as with his love, to be most ours he has only to e be hims lf . To - day it feels to me almost an impertinence to quote examples from many poems which have become part of our poetic conscious e ness . I suppose that the anthologi s have Ni htin ales A made such perfect things as g g , Passer- by and the ode On a Dead Child almost popular ; but at this time of day it may sur e e e e e pris many peopl to l arn that th s poems , which first appeared in smaller type than their 45 R O B E R T B R I D G E S

- fellows from the exigencies of line length , were e e once considered a grav abuse of po etic licenc . e And this is all the mor remarkable because , the e e as is usually cas , compl xity and origin ality of theme are nearly always associated in Bridges with the highest mastery of treat e The e e e m nt . full mancipation of his t chniqu ﬁrst showed itself in these stress - prosody e po ms . To us it must seem amazing that even the academic (and to - day we are told that Bridges is one of th em) should have missed the charm and strength of a po em like Lon don S now and I imagine that its rhythmic subtlety was th e greatest bar to its being e O e e und rstood . th r things b ing equal , an e e e obvious rhythm , fre ly rep at d , unvaried by e the nuance or d lay, always has advantage e over rhythmical subtl ty in this country . Even Tennyson had to aton e for the freedom of Maud by six volum es of Arthurian con e i er th e e e f ct on y . In last two hundr d y ars e e e music has m ant v ry littl to us as a nation , and this perhaps explains the popular lack of ear B ut e th e . , rhythm apart, sur ly subj ect of L on don S n ow has its echo in the consciousness

e e e e e e of ﬁv million p opl , that wond r of lov lin ss that blooms in a night to make every man a e child and every city a fairyland . H re it bloomed incomparably 4 6 B E A U T Y A N D J O Y

and when full inches seven It lay in the depth of its uncompacted lightness t The clouds blew off froma high and fros y heaven .

A high and frosty heaven such a lighten ed sk crystal brightened y as we have all known , e d and ben ath it the voices of chil ren calling , ffl e London S now their shrillness half mu d . should have been written in an accentual S ’ j ingle , such as winburne s worst , and thus lubricated the critics would have swallowed e the lines regardl ss of their length . e With flowers Bridges is always happy , ven e is in his conceits . Ther a marvellously pretty flower song in Achilles ; another in P ali i e e c o. Margar t sp aks

Thi s herb I think rows w Its eaut s ows G here the Greek hath been . b y h A su t e and u l now e e and etra s b l f l k l dg , b y ’ A eniu of o tr See st t ou how G s c n ivance . h The fading emerald and azure blent On the white petal s are enmeshed about ’ With delicate sprigs of green ' Tis therefore c alled Lo e in a mis v t . PALI C I O h is the t i t ere . W o h s le h MARG RE T A . 0 he wit ume crest s rin in all arme , , h pl d , p g g d In stee ustre and erect as Mars ly l , at is th Th e Roman . P A C I LI O Fin the Sar cen . . d a MARG RE T A . is hot a i o us wit wa in swor s Th gl d l , h v g d And cr in c o our y g l . 47 R O B E R T B R I D G E S

This passage is a piece of delicate and lovely As t e fancy . a contrast to it I would place h S ea o e the e e as P ppy, quot d in n xt s ction the text of a distinction . Of his bird - worship there are examples

e :L arks Full- throated Robin beyond numb r , , Las t week n Februar e i y and many oth rs . And

- e e e so this is inevitable , for bird lif nt rs markedly into the landscap e of Southern England that the tenderness of th eir song is almost a part the e on e e of atmosph re . But point se ms to e me signiﬁcant , and this appli s also to his ships : these beautiful winged things are made to bear the only conscious symbolism t tha enters into his writing . The splendid sonnet in The Growth of Love

I wou b e a ir and strai t on win s I arise ld b d, gh g

ee e with its ﬁne upward sw p of wing d words , is e e the mad to echo the mancipation of spirit , and shows its elf in an unexp ected emancipa the The e tion of sonnet form . gr at ode in Prometheus reﬂects a like ideal of spiritual freedom

J o the o of i t . y, j y ﬂ gh

e e adven And , in the sam raptur , his soul goes turing upon the decks of A Pass er- by

W it er O s en i s i th w ite sai s crow in h h , pl d d h p , y h l d g, Leanin across the osomof the ur ent West g b g , 48

R O B E R T B R I D G E S

e are l atmospher of the originals , his east e e e considerable work . I hav alr ady hint d at what I beli eve to b e th e explanation of this return to the past his ﬁn e discontent with a mode of expression degraded into common e us e e place by cont mporary . Ev n then you will notice that he does not adopt the pot pourri formalism of the early Victorians such

the ur - r as Hood, or t gid Byron Moore ly ical e dis convention which preced d it . In his content with the vulgarity of contemporary e e e forms , which repr s nted , in fact , the l es of th e e gr at Romantics , he turned instinctively towards the more generous Elizabethan vin e O e tage , a wine of lineag . nc , indeed , he essays the with ered ros e formula

P oor wit ere rose and dr h d y , Skel eton of a rose Risen to testify ’ T o s o l ve sad close .

And one can s ay no more than that the specialists in this sort of s entiment could not have bettered it . Usually the individual note is too strong to e so suffer asily the bonds of fragile a technique , and one is conscious of the restraint . Most of

e - e these pi ces are love po ms . In spirit they correspond with the stiffness and self - conscious Growth o Love ness of the first f sonnets , and I 50 B E A U T Y A N D J O Y suspect that they b elong to the same period of ’ th e e writing . It is almost as though po t s haughty disdain of emotion made him choos e this m eans for th e suppression of feelings too e t mp estuous to b e trusted to a freer form . It certainly do es act as a curb to the tingling passion of things like I will not let th ee go the th e in first book . It half veils j oy of I e e e mad another song in liken ss of my lov , or the mild ecstasy of I have loved flowers that ” e t e the fad . In some of h poems in second O e e book, such as the pening dialogu betwe n Poet and Muse Will Love again awake that lies asleep so long I cannot feel that the e e e a choic is so delib rate . Th ir formul e read like the remains of a habit ; for here conventional vers e is mingled in a b ewildering way with intense and untrammelled expres sion such as

Her beauty woul d surprise Gazers on Autumn e es v , Who watched the broad moon rise U on the attere e p s c d sh aves .

Contrast this stanza with its n eighbour

And y et her smiles have danced I n ain if her iscourse v , d Win not the soul entran ced I n i i e t r d v n in e course .

the his And in third poem of the same book , 51 R O B E R T B R I D G E S

e e Late S rin Evenin xquisit p g g, the third stanza t e is marred by h same kind of intrusion . In another kind of poem these echoes of formalism are less destructive of reality ; I e e e e mean those which he hims lf calls l gi s , and e many oth rs , not so labelled , which are really e e e e l giac in charact r . I suppos the con ’ templative indolence of Gray s poem has really ﬁxed the atmosph ere of this genre ; but in these works Bridges is som etimes e the L e near r to Milton of ycidas , and at oth rs e e e S e e to those l gi s of h nstone , to which ven the comprehensive Augustan taste hardly did G justice , than to ray . It is a mood which , drooping with physical languor and smooth e th e with languor of the mind , sugg sts that poet is s o drowsily comfortable that he can e afford to indulge in sombr ness . With Bridges it often produces a suggestion of Vergil —as in There is a hill beside the silver Thames

Sometimes an an er comes and ro s his book gl , d p ’ Wit in its i en e t s and ain st a tree h h dd d p h , g Leanin his rod rea s in some easant oo g , d pl b k, Forgetting soon his pride of ﬁshery And reams or a ls as ee d , f l l p , While curious ﬁshes peep A out hi s ni e ait or scorn u b bbl d b , f lly Dart off and rise and ea l p .

We ﬁnd the same quality in the Elegy among the Tombs the I ndolence , in lovely , in the 52 B E A U T Y AN D J O Y

Ele on a Lad e Miltonic gy y , with its mor than Miltonic ending

And t ou O o er t at art on the watc h , l v , h h , W ere on the an s of the or et ul streams h , b k f g f , The a e in i erent osts wan er an d snatc p l d ff gh d , h The s weeter moments of t eir ro en reams h b k d , ou w en the torchl i t eams Th , h gh gl , W en t ou s a t s ee the s ow rocession h h h l l p , And w en thi ne ears the ﬁtful music c atc h h,

Re oice for t ou art near to th ossession . j , h y p

e e If we except these lyrics , a littl stiﬂ d as it t me e e he w r by weight of old od ls , but lovely e the e e non l ss , and with them a small numb r

e e - e u n of occasional pi c s , quick witt d , but e w e e e d niably slight , are l ft with a great numb r of nature - idylls of the typ e which he has s o e e e compl tely made his own , and a doz n or mor of love- poems as sweetly dignified as the b est The Growth o Love e e of f sonn ts , and infinit ly e e e i more fl xibl . It is this mingling of fl xibil ty ee with strength , of sanity with sw tness and of e lofty idealism with naturalness of xpression , which makes the love - poetry of the Shorter ems The Po unique of its kind . Platonic e e candour r mains , but the mod has ceased Wholly to b e conventional ; the conceits are gone ; the decoration is no longer th ere for ’ decoration s sake and to thes e there is added a Virility which was never there before . I 53 R O B E R T B R I D G E S

’ know of no lovelier hymn of love s content than the exalted Love on my h eart from ’ heaven fell no ampler expression of love s e S e r ligion than ince thou , O fond st and truest no nobler song of parting than the e ul magniﬁc nt O thou unfaithf , still as ever dearest no sublimation of spiritual love so ” kiss eth e lofty as My spirit thin , with the its amazing simile at the end, which takes place alone among the loveliest of the Idylls

M s irit kisseth thi ne y p , My spirit emb raceth thee I feel thy being twine Her races o er me g v ,

I n the life- kindling fold ’ Go s reat w ere on hi Of d b h ; h gh, I n furthest space untold Like a lost world I lie

’ And o er my dreaming plains Li ten s most a e and air gh , p l f , A moon that never wanes Or more if I c om are , p ,

Like what the shepherd sees n lat md-win r da n O e i te w s, ’ When thro the branched trees

’ O er the white- rosted lawns f ,

The hu e unclou ded sun g , S ur risin the world whist p g , I s all u risen thereon p , o m n ms G lden with elti g i t. 54 B E A U T Y A N D J O Y

Even when he descends from these higher l evels of passion to the smaller and more e e trivial incid nts in the history of lov , he is e e no less happy . Th r is a kind of poem not uncommon in the later books of the Shorter oems the N ew oems P , and also in P , which is e are e domestic in tone . Th y po ms that dwell on small things remembered ; little altars dedicated to that wedded love of which I think e one might call him , mor justly than Patmore , e e the highest c l brant . Particularly lovely in its ﬂavour of Spring is the slight So sweet love seemed that April morn and of the ” e are e e sam sort My d light and thy d light , ” e I climb the mossy bank of the glad , and e are e others . Th y not among the most wond r e e e ful of his achi v m nts , but they are the best th e e things of kind ever writt n . Of his relation to Nature the next chapter will speak more fully but the greater number e e Shorter oems e e of th s P , love lyrics , legi s and the are e n rest , really no mor tha occasional e e e cel brations of that charact ristic motion ,

- half way to ecstasy , which he calls j oy . The word is always with us in a hundred lovely e lifeborn liveries Joy , sw etest j oy h eavenly Joy Joys whos e earthly names were never known In all things ’ the e e e is ss ntial Joy b auty , which Joy s 55 R O B E R T B R I D G E S

ladder , reaching from home to home e sp cial Joy . The e the e ess nce of this j oy , upon forml ss ” e s o mom nts of our being ﬂitting, is simple e e that it is hard to capture . Thos mom nts wh en life and j oy are on e seldom declare

e e e u s rin in s themselves h r in sudd n , dizzy p p g g of the imagination , fountains of light that leave us dazzled or blinded ; but they do illumine nearly every one of his poems with a e s o the e mild radianc , that whole rang of this ’ man s work is like nothing so much as a sunny

S hall I com are thee to a English landscape . p ’ S ummer s day Thou art more lovely and ” e more temperat . I suppose it is because we are used in our po etry to the tropical kind of imagination which carries us swiftly b eyond the temperate

e e e e e s o r gions of ordinary xp ri nc , that many have overlooked this tender warmth in the

e work of Bridges , and hav even called him e the e cold . At its high st reach thin ﬂam is

the the almost colourless , ﬁnest emanation of “ ” spirit l eaping live and laughing high er that seems paler still when it is compared with those bonﬁres of stale passion and violent e the sk red motions , staining y , which have

s o e sooted much of our po try . It is this ﬁfth 5 6

R O B E R T B R I D G E S

and that is why it is easily communicable to s o those who approach his work with love , that they can taste it without wonder or e e e e the enviousn ss . In ff ct , whil j oy of most poetry resolves itself into a Prometh ean at e e e e e th e t mpt to transc nd the b auti s of lif , j oy of Bridges is s eldom more than part of the ” e common j oy of b ing alive . For once born , he says in Wintry Delights

’ w at e ti wort LIFE is to be e e r s to. h v h, h ld ’ Its mere ersistence esteemd as rea attainment p l , ’ ’ And twere wort the i in owe er un in ere t of h l v g, h k dly b f ’ ho o nd h T se s a comorts t ro which we chie re ard it. j y f , ﬂy g

He accepts life cheerfully , not as a stain , e the e howev r brilliant , upon whit radiance of e on e ternity, but as the attainment of which e e ee the we are compl t masters . It has b n e e habit of poets to fr t at th ir chains , and it has taken a good deal of ps eudo - mysticism to reconcile them to the limitations of this ’ e weary planet . It is charact ristic of Bridges spiritual courage that he wears th em without o e complaint , grasping with a zest as passi nat ’ the e almost as Whitman s at supr me moments . Spiritually h e might well have b een the “ author of that song of parting , Joy, ship

mate , j oy . It is not difﬁcult to analyse the sources of 58 B E A U T Y A N D J O Y N this emotion . aturally it beats with a quickened pulse in the rather subdued pages The Growth o L ove e e he e of f , though h r writ s for the most part of its transitoriness

A ea en o B ut who at e er ear h , h v ly j y h h v h d, Who at seen o or who s a e er ﬁnd h h j y , h ll v ’ J oy s language There is n either speech nor word

Nought but itself to teach it to mankind .

And in the S horter Poems he finds everywhere e j oy less elusiv . He finds it in the simplest of e No e s o beauti s . po t but Wordsworth has contented himself with the common flowers e for him th y hold A j oy of love at sight . e e The very nam s of things beloved are d ar , he e e the s o says som wh re in sonnets , and he enshrines in the tale of rememb ered j oys his ” e e e I t lov ly catalogu of the idl flowers . is as though every new j oy added to his hoarded delights will in som e way enrich or amplify e e his spiritual dignity, and make lif mor the Nor the e worth living . does j oy fad with the flower ; for when he lingers upon these e e xquisite nam s ,

’ tis winter c i , h ld, And itter nort win s ow b h d bl , The wa s are wet and wi y ld, The an is ai in sno l d l d w .

e e he e In the same secr tiv Spirit has build d , ” e e e all out of his treasur hous , a m lody of 5 9 R O B E R T B R I D G E S

e e e e e e fair sounds that I love , r m mb r d tog th r ” in one .

And I kn ew n ot whether Fromwa es of rustlin w eat it was v g h , Recoveringly that pas s Or a humof bees in the queenly robes of the lime Or a descant in pairing time Of warbling birds or watery bells i s Of rivul ets in the h ll .

ee ee Ind d, it would s m that much of his joy is e e ee retrosp ctive ; a j oy in idl ness , a sw t con templation of garnered riches which brings a gentle ﬂush of pleasure to the conscious mind . Life is overwhelming in its wealth of this ” e e e simpl enj oym nt , calm in its xcess ,

And e er eve I sa v y y , Notin m ste in is s g y p bl , That I have known n o day l i I n al my life l ke this .

And I think this conception of j oy as an inali enable possession (echoed again with ’ e P ali ci o O Margar t s cry in h , j oy , j oy, j oy , e e e S e This b aut ous world is min , All icily min , This morning mine is partly the s ecret of t e e e e e e h lov which th s poems inspir . Th y s o e imply much that is gallant and courag ous , such a splendid steadfastness in th e worship e th e e e re of b auty , that r ading of th m is a proach to those of us who have the dust of 60 B E A U T Y A N D J O Y

experience in our eyes . I do not think any po et in our literature has b een s o determined in his purpose of seeking the face of beauty without blame he has sought it with something of the religious fervour which w e have s een informing the sonn ets of The Growth of Love and his reward is j oy .

61 F R E S H N E S S O F V I S I O N

THE poetry of Bridges is not s o much a return The to nature as a return to naturalness . tradition of the Romantic School made fields and trees and hills the prop er material for poetic treatment as definitely as they banish ed e e groves , nymphs and t mpl s ; so that even the latest breath of the great Victorian era was e drawn in the open air . But the d votion e e e to nature had become more r fl ctiv , and a e On e e the trifl indolent . does not imagin that sounding cataract haunted Lord Tennyson e like a passion . But the downward smok of those lazy streams in the land of the Lotus Eaters is very pretty and natural ; none of e it —e e the Augustans could hav done , xc pt e e Pop , who could do anything . Ind ed , Tenny ’ son s very common touches of natural descrip tion are a first suggestion of the method which e e e e Bridg s repr s nts . The Romantics woo d e e nature passionat ly , as though th ir very e e f rvour could force her secr t from her . And there are moments when it seems as if the 62 F R E S H N E S S O F V I S I O N

e secret is on the v rge of being told . In the e e is e e work of Bridg s natur still b ing woo d , O e e e e but critically . nly h r and th re do s he forgo his detachment to give us such ardent tones as this

And w en I saw her t en I wors i e her h , h h pp d , An d sai —O ounteous S rin 0 eauteous S rin d , b p g, b p g , Mot er of all m ears t ou who ost stir h y y , h d M eart to a ore t ee and m ton ue to sin y h d h y g g, ’ F ower of m ruit of m eart s oo the ﬁre l y f , y h bl d , Of all my satisfaction the desire

How art thou every year more beautiful or this

For who so well hath wooed the maiden hours As ite to a e won the wort of t eir ric s ow qu h v h h h h , To rob the ni t of m ster or the owers gh y y, ﬂ Of their sweet delicacy ere they go Perhaps it is an adventure which is not e e lightly to b e made in v rse . It means ither l complete failure , or something that is on y the e e as shadow of success . Coleridg tri d it, if casually, and succeeded more often than he e h fail d . Francis T ompson tried it, passionately, and failed more often than he succeeded .

Possibly it is dangerous , this tracking of the ” e nude unutterable thought . Bridg s rarely attempts to pierce to the mysterious heart of things . His genius is reﬂective rather than is intuitive . His ﬁrst concern with beauty 63 R O B E R T B R I D G E S

the e e not b auty of form and movem nt only, but of the ideas and states of mind to which e e e e th y giv birth . Wh n he has giv n us this he e He e e the is cont nt . do s not try to unv il mystery of terror which is always to some extent present in the pathos we ﬁnd in any e He N thing b autiful . is happy to show us ature her e t in rob of beauty and j oy , without hose sudden intuitions s uch as dodge i t th r e Concept on o e very bou ne of heav n .

Nobody has given us a satisfactory account e e e has of ecstasy in lit ratur . Arthur Mach n snared the shadow of one in a very pleasantly e e ustiﬁ writt n ssay , and makes it , not quite j

the e e e . ably, ultimat t st of gr at writing But at best one can only s ay that this author has the e it , oth r has not , and the solution of the et b e acrostic has y to found . Thus it is in S e S e mollett , but not in Fi lding ; in henston , e D but not in Pop ; in ickens , but not in e Thack ray ; in Francis Thompson , but not in e S men e Rob rt Bridges . mall hav caught it men e where great hav missed it . It is not to be found merely in this s entence or in that ; it is a hidden ﬂame which may set a whole e book ﬂick ring with strange meanings . Again , b e e e it may concentrated in a singl phras . I have already suggested that it is the result of 64

R O B E R T B R I D G E S compoun ded of fifty p art s imagination and fift y nature or ten of one and nine of the other an d so , ty , on and (supp osing equal intellectual excellence and aesth etic b eauty) the b est of two works of art would b e t on ure he e which had most imagination an d least nat . C assica art is ha which i e the most c aracter s ic l l t t , l k h i t Gree w or es certain natura imits an d oes n ot k k , fix l l , d ran s ress them It is oise at a certain ima ina i e t g . p d g t v hei h within ouch of common i e and it oes n ot g t t l f , d d eviate very far either ab ove or b elow this con stant e e ation Romant c art re u ses these reasona e l v . i f bl imits and ea in the ima in ation ree to tran scen l , l v g g f d

t em is in an er of osin touch wit nature . h , d g l g h Th ence it follow s that in romantic art (where the ercenta e s o to s ea of the natura ma b e p g , p k , l y reduced to a very small prop ortion ) it becomes neces sar for the n atura to b e re n orce and t s can y l i f d , hi only be don e by realismfar stronger th an classical art wou ear which n ot ein at so rea a e ht ld b ; , b g g t h ig , is more easily d egrade d and b rought down and thus m ecomes the com an ion of im ina n T is rea is a o . l b p g ti h , I e ie e i es a rue an d inte i i e account of on e b l v , g v t ll g bl of the main distin ctions b etween classical and romantic

t ill - ﬁn rms as we use hose de ed te .

e e This is , at any rate , an exc ll nt account of ’ e e e Bridg s own po tic m thod . It might also be used to justify the method of a more recent — school of poets who for reasons which I am — totally at a loss to guess are sometimes ’ e e e describ d as Bridg s disciples . It ﬁx s the place of realism in literature as a means of 6 6 F R E S H N E S S O F V I S I O N weighting a too exuberant imagination so e that it shall not drift too far from the arth . But realism is no more the prop er sphere of poetry than sandbags are the mo tive power O e of a balloon . ne can only gu ss how far Bridges has deliberately moored his craft in

- e mid air . It may be this v ry limitation of method which has prevented him from reach ing the imaginative heights of those who are e e e called the m taphysical po ts . I susp ct that the rarity of imaginative phrases in his work is one of the results . On e notices this limitation of method all Shorter oems through the P , and perhaps it helps that impression of sincerity which is one e e e of th ir sp cial charms . It shows its lf in the e e e sane dir ctn ss of his outlook . Her , as else where , he allows natural beauty to express He itself . gives us none of the false currency h e he ers on ifies of fine phrases . W n p nature the is or any of things of nature , it more often by deliberate comparison than by any imagina e e tiv fusion of id a . This manner of keeping nature and imagination apart and as it were e on e e e e parall l to anoth r , results som tim s in a rather exquisite quality which is rare in e — e i English v rse , something at onc na ve and e e e e e restrain d , s ver yet passionat , a c rtain e We s ee the grave cstasy . it in S ea Poppy 67 R O B E R T B R I D G E S l e off yric , wher one might almost mark definitely the lines which are nature and ” those which are imagination . First the flower is pictured with exquisite accuracy and e charm then , with an almost Vergilian t nder are e e ness , we giv n the image which it sugg sts then in the last couplet we are brought back to e e the e the littl y llow poppy , shaking on dge of — the waves , with almost a hint of apology for the imaginative flight which the poet has e e s ea tak n us . He writ s of the again in a curiously e ffective stanza

The sea ee s not the Sa at da k p bb h y , His waves come rolling evermore His nois toi rindeth the s ore y l g h , i i wit s ra And all the c l ff s drencht h p y .

The touch of imagination just escap es the ridiculous ; but it lends more effect to the simple description that follows than the most imaginative piece of invocation could have We are the e done . not told that oc an is a ” e e e e dim l viathan , or v n a sulky gr y old e e he e brut , but m rely that does not ke p the S e abbath day . And notice that one sugg stion is not allowed to lead to another willy - nilly ; the word toil ” ﬁxes the image rather than e xtends it . This is only to say that Bridges is not a e e mystic poet , a m taphysical po t , or a romantic 68 F R E S H N E S S O F V I S I O N

the poet . He does not transfuse Shows of e e O nature in a whit h at of imagination . f ’ Matthew Arnold s four modes of dealing with —the e the nature conv ntional , faithful , the — Greek and the magical the last has been the birthright of our greatest poets . It is not the method of Bridges Time after time nature in one or other of her aspects has b een rapt into a metaphor or pressed into the e e s rvic of some ﬂaming mystery . But it is surprising how rarely the earth has b een described simply and faithfully for the sake e of its intrinsic b auty . e Coleridg , who of all poets comes nearest to uniting both methods , could write , in lines are which almost faint with their own beauty, of that dell which

B athed by the mist is fresh and delicate As erna corn e or the unri e ﬂax v l ﬁ ld , p W en t rou its a - trans arent sta s at eve h , h gh h lf p lk i r wit r The level sunshine gl mme s h g een light .

The simile , in spite of its exquisite actuality, lifts the dell beyond the reach of common sight it has become Visionary by some hidden magic it is a valley in fairyland . In a slightly e e reminiscent passage , Bridg s d scribes his vision of the virgin Spring walking the sprinkled meadows at sundown 69 R O B E R T B R I D G E S

Her dress was greener than the tenderest leaf That trembled in the sunset glare aglow Herself more delicate than is the brief Pin a e- ossom t at Ma s owers la low k ppl bl , h y h y , ’ And more delicious than s the earliest streak T s i w he blu h ng rose sho s of her crimson cheek .

e e H re, with a similar imag and almost e the equal beauty of expr ssion , effect seems b e e to me to practically inv rted . Imagination is poised above the beauty of the vision , e deﬁning it , rather than b low, indicating and

suggesting . With Bridges imagination is a e milder , perhaps more constant radianc , thrown across a landscap e and calling from it a curi

ously responsive glow of luminous detail . e And yet, by a strang contradiction , he is the author of some of the most exquisite e l Ne imaginative phras s in the anguage . ver

very common , they are most found, I think , in his later work and generally they are very S nearly perfect . Mr . ymons has noticed the magic with which this poet brings together alien words so that they seem as though they have been designed for one another from their e infancy . But he has pointed out at the sam time that the boldest of them do not surprise O is e one . ne reason for this , no doubt , that th y are so often inevitable that the imagination accepts them at once as perfectly ﬁt and has e natural. Bridges the courag of all great 70 F R E S H N E S S O F V I S I O N artists in disdaining all but the essential and e e e e inclusiv pithet . But her again it s ems to me e e e e that his ﬁn st phras s , how ver imaginativ , are not suggestive of anything beyond their own e e b auty . Tak , for instance , the wonderful e e pictur of morning , wh n

Uncano ie S ee is in rom e and tree p d l p fly g f fi ld , or the dreamy butterflies Un i ote in the sun p l d , or the palm - willow in winter where

The s prin g- goddess cowers in faint attire ri Of f ghtened ﬁre .

Each of thes e lovely phras es is in on e sense suggestive ; it includes many ideas that are e e e not actually expr ss d . But the sugg stion extends only to what may serve to complete

e e e e u s . the pictur . It do s not l av groping Apart from the vocal beauty and subtle con n ection e e are e e e of words , th s phrases in ss nc a di vine economy of language j oined with e most d licate imagining . I have said that the phrases that have any l e e c aim to be r ally imaginativ are few . But are e there enough , if he had nev r written any e thing lse , to place him with the greatest

e- e of phras mak rs . I know of few things 71 R O B E R T B R I D G E S more beautiful than this picture of the hive bees in the ﬁrst classical epistle

The yellow honey- makers W ose ima es romof old a e aunte oetr sett in h g f h v h d p y, l g ’ On the blossoms of man s dream- garden as on the summer wers ﬂo .

Another superb imaginative ﬂash gives us ’ ” e i e e Cupid s soft unchrist ned sm l . H re is the N another , in picture of a ovember land e scape , wh n the night deepens

wit Winter to star e rass and tree h v g , And soon to bury in snow ’ The E art t at s ee in neat her rozen sto e h , h , l p g h f l , Shall dreama dreamcrept fromthe sunless pole how her end s a b e Of h ll .

But even in the less ambitious of the Shorter ’ Poems we ﬁnd the homely magic of Bridges e imagination . And there is a s nse in which , e in the full chorus of our lyric poetry, one h ars so t e as no voice peculiarly English . If h poet h caught for us any whisp er which no writer e e e e e b for him has been abl to snar , it is l ss an impalpable undertone of the earth than a very ’ e e e cl ar not of nativ song . Shelley s verse bears a wild - orchis fragrance ; Keats the p erfume of a musk - rose blowing in a green island far from all men ’ s knowing Words worth s the essence of mountain loneliness 72

R O B E R T B R I D G E S

of the plains and could give it out again . It has taken English po etry ﬁve hundred years to ’ S e e absorb England . hakespear s nativ wood e notes wild are only , as it wer , accidentals in e the march of his music . Ev n Wordsworth missed the delicate bloom of the English e e e atmosph r . One after anoth r the major poets have been preoccupied with the music of th e Sph eres and have had no ear for the piercingly sweet melodies of the English

- e O e e country sid . thers have frankly d spis d it e e e On e in comparison with xotic ff cts . must e e look back to small r men , half forgott n in the study and unknown in the street , for the e e intermitt nt snatch s of this sense of England , — T to the serious and indolent homson , and to

S e e e . h nstone, poor poet and inspir d garden r It is easy to confuse the genius of a poet Shorter with the genius of his work . The Poems are very nearly the most English thing in our language ; and this simply b ecaus e e e Bridg s has dar d to be plainly pictorial , not complicating his e ffects with a mixture of e h morality or imaginative sugg stion . T ey are

not a series of illustrated thoughts , but of e pictures d ﬁned and enriched by imagination . No other poet has treated s o lovingly or minutely of the thousand shifting elements of l e dis English andscape . H re is a man who 74 F R E S H N E S S O F V I S I O N tin uishes e e e e g in v rse the ton s of wint r ski s , e O e e June ski s , ctober skies , rainy ski s , ski s the e that hold snow ; shap s of clouds , cloud shadows ; blue distances and grey distances ; e the vall y mists and river mists , and all e e e drifting, changing asp cts of island w ath r . The nature - lyrics might b e arranged into a song - cycle of English s easons which would never have been surpassed for faithfulness He e e e and charm . pr s nts England dir ctly as England presents itself :in open highlands and e e op n lowlands , with a w alth of delicate but re e not obscu d tail . This is one of the n ew paths that Bridges O e e u s The e is has p n d to . English g nius , in the e main , intuitive , and I hav suggested that the e e s o g nius of Bridg s , in far as it is reﬂective ,

becomes remote from the national stamp . In e b e this resp ct, if the distinction is to made ,

the . he is , possibly, less English than rest

- e e Yet English nature po try, from Chauc r to us Tennyson , has given much that is exotic in colour and suggestion with little that is e really natur . It has not been the normal method of our poets to subdue their vision to t he pale tones of an English landscape . Whether we refer it to the racial love of wandering or to some warm Iberian strain in our

blood, the tendency is not to be overlooked . 75 R O B E R T B R I D G E S Keats ’ longing for a beaker full of the warm e south colours all his natural d scription , which is the most imaginative and least actual in the ” e N e languag . ature was r lated to him , in ’ e e Bridges own phras , as an nchantress to a ” e H e e e the dr amer . found l ss enchantm nt in earth itself than in the dreams with which he e e S e e e mbroider d it . h lley , with more d licat e e e appr hension of colour and mov m nt , brings the same transfusing warmth of imagination . In Wordsworth himself a quiet rural England e e e inspir d littl but moral s ntiments . His brain was haunted by mountains and cataracts , and he pass ed by the trim b eauty of the

- e The V e country sid . ision of England has b en u s e always with , but it has b en too cold to its e the e supply own inspiration . Wh n fairi s e e e her w r banish d from the land , woods and rivers had to b e p eopled with legions of nymphs The e and hamadryads . ecstatic glimps s of ’ L Alle ro th e e England in Comus and g , gre n e e hillocks , the h dg row elms , the meadows trim ” e with daisi s pied, are not complete till Th rsis Corydon and y strut on between the oaks . —a Pope true lover of nature, as I suspect were many of his maligned contemporaries e e e mad of the Tham s valley a great gard n . e Bridges declar s boldly that meadows , rivers , trees , woods and the commonplaces of nature 76 F R E S H N E S S O F V I S I O N

e the are their own justiﬁcation . Th y are e H e e accepted material of his v rse . handl s them fearlessly in all their half - tints and subtle variations . Thes e pictures of England are not easily to e e e the b forgotten . Th y give a fr shness to

’ little volume of Bridges which on e finds in “ only a few books ; such are The Shropshire “ L e e ad and Leav s of Grass . To thos who recognize this op en - air fragrance as on e of the rarest and most exquisite things in literatur e the S horter Poems will b e on e of the dear and intimate books that w e admit to the inner e e e The e circl of lit rary d lights . incomparabl landscape of the North Wind in Octob er the April lyric that begins Wanton with long ” e the e the d lay , merry pictur of a windmill ; vision of the oak tree falling in the silence of a copse ; the magic flame of the palm willow in early Spring ; these and a score of other the the Idylls , little pictures , haunt mind with fragrance of actual memories of some chance e e e e e asp ct of b auty, realiz d in an xalt d e moment . The colours remain wond rfully bright with the flush of their original inspira e the tion . The scenes are pick d out against wide background of a land which the poet e assumes instinctively that w e know and lov . This confidence is part of the charm ; there 77 R O B E R T B R I D G E S is a s ense of actual locality and surroundings b e O e e e which must almost shared, an p n s cr t e the between poet and reader , befor poems , e e e with all th ir simplicity, find th ir prop r ’ e the fram in the mind s eye . In first book of Shorter oems e e the the P , th r is an impression of e e tim , when a gal , after blowing all night th e drops , in the morning, suddenly hour, as Bridges puts it with characteristic precision ” the e e wind has c as d to blow . This song of a morning when

The horses of the strong south -west Are asture roun his tro ic tent p d d p ,

is in itself compl ete and very b eautiful . But has e e it , I think , anoth r charact ristic which per the S horter oems e vades P , and ind ed all ’ e e e Bridg s work , with a special charm . Th r is a s ense not only of the momentary local

e harmonies of movem nt and colour, which a e e e u s e e doz n po ts might have giv n qually w ll , but of the strong bass of the surrounding s ea The country , and land . soft inland touch the th e in third stanza , rock and tower and tree whither the frightened birds had fled to e e th e e e e house , d fin s subtly whol atmosph r of a coast district in South England on a day of e e the serri d cumulus cloud . Th n magnificent sweep of the last stanzas carri es us with the 78 F R E S H N E S S O F V I S I O N

clouds above meadow and down , sheer off the cliff upon the s ea and away over the dancing Channel where they

piling all the south with light i Dapple in France the fertile pl a ns .

The poem is no longer of a day of the north wester where Sussex meets the s ea ; its delicate motion has swept an incredibly wide e e e landscape befor the tiny l ns of the vers . — Such an impression that the minute and often concentrated description of nature in the po ems is really the nucleus of a vast circle — of suggested landscap e m eets us in many poems where it dep ends upon devices far less e e apparent than in that I hav just quot d . It is irresistible in the picture of the s ea - poppy in — the ﬁrst book its lyric simplicity will p erhaps — make it immortal where the seeing ey e glimpses a whole stretch of fertile hinterland e backing its ragged strip of sand . It is pres nt in such unforgettable fragments as The e e e the ev ning dark ns ov r in third book , or The upper skies are palest blue and The e e the the clouds hav l ft sky in fourth , as strongly as in the more elaborate scenic e h e e eff cts . It is because of this that who r ads only the op ening stanzas of I n dolen ce in Book Three must feel that he has b een a long j ourney 79 R O B E R T B R I D G E S

the between happy Shires , and drunk deeply th e ee e e of sw t air of the Thames vall y . Ther e the e e is a hill besid silv r Thames , b gins the e another poem in sam book, which holds again a continuous s ense of surrounding e eff country , a not of what J eries called the exquisite undertone of the earth in summer that which just trembles at the extreme e We ee it —b e edg o—f hearing . m t y the Tham s again in the b eautiful last stanzas of The Voi ce of N ature

B ut far awa I t in in the ames a e y h k , Th v ll y, The silent river glides by ﬂowery banks And birds sing sweetly in branches that arc h an alley c oistere trees moss rown in t eir ancient ran s Of l d , g h k , Where if a light air stray ’ Tis a en wit humof ees and scent of ma l d h b y . Lo e and eace be t ine 0 S irit for e er v p h , p , v er th sw et esire es ise en ea our S ve y e d d p d v .

And if it were onl for t ee entrance ri er y h , d v , at scarce ost roc the il on her air stern Th d k l y y , Or stir a wa e to murmur or a rus to ui er v , h q v ’ Wer t b ut for the woo s and summer as ee in t em d , l p h For ou m owers reen y y b g , M e es of rose and woo ine wit wa s etween y h dg db , h lk b , en we cou I rea wis omin e er eature Th ll ld d d v y f , s l I un erstan the oice of Nat re 0 well hou d d d v u .

8 0

R O B E R T B R I D G E S

Now there is but one gran d style in the treatment of all su ec s whatsoe er an d ha s e is ase on bj t v , t t tyl b d the er ec know e e and con sists in the s m e p f t l dg , i pl un encumb ered rend ering of the sp ecific characters of he i en o c —b it man as or fl w r E er t e e e o e . g v bj t , b t , v y chan e carica ure or a an onmen of such s eci c g , t b d t p fi character is as d estructive of gran d eur as it is of

ruth of eaut as of ro riet . E er a era on t , b y p p y v y lt ti of the features of nature has its origin eith er in p ower l ess in dolence or blin d au dacity ; in the folly which or ets or the n o ence which esecra es or s f g , i d l d t , w k which it is the pride of angels to know and their r e to o p ivil ge l ve . Yet these words are as applicable as a ’ defence and explanation of the bulk of Bridges works as of the English landscape artists to whom their sincere admirer dedicated ’ e e e Mod rn Painters . Inde d , Ruskin s vi ws e e e e would s rv not only on g n ral grounds , but ’ e dwoxo ta in full st detail , as an y for a good deal that is novel in the method of the Shorter ne e Poems . O qu stions whether the author of such lines as I will quote stands to b e judged e by lit rary or by pictorial canons .

I n atient russet is hi s orest s rea p f p d, A ri t wit ram e red ll b gh h b bl , With beec hen moss An d holly sheen the oak silver and stark Sunneth his aged bark An d wrin e ss kl d bo . 8 2 L A N D S C A P E

Or Of airy fans the delicate throng Torn and scattered around Far out a e t e lie fi ld h y , I n the water urrows die y f , I n rass oo s of the oo t e sin and rown g y p l fl d h y k d , Green - ol en oran e ermi ion o en and rown g d , g , v l , g ld b , ’ The high year s flaunting crown S attere and tram e own h d pl d d .

Though the whole problem which exercised Ruskin and his critics is to a certain extent

- l e e self reso v d when applied to the po tic art , the philosophic distinction is as inevitable as e ev r . Half a century has shown us the result of that struggle , and I am not concerned to carry through the comparison further than to place Bridges in the spiritual category of the

English landscape painters . We need only consider the extraordinary grasp of detail and nicety of selection that “ ” e go to the composition of his landscap . Though it is within the limits of pure description that he develops his genius as a poet of land it is the e e the scape , in p rfectn ss of description e that we ﬁnd his greatness as an inspir d poet . Here is none of the transforming imagination set e that rolling the h avy periods of Mr .

e e - e is Ruskin . The h av n sent phras rare ; the l e obvious epithet , or at east an epith t of

e e e . superﬁcial charact r , is g n rally chosen 8 3 R O B E R T B R I D G E S O ften it is a colour epithet . In addition to ” ” ” e l dewy eves , sc nted hay, dewy awns , ” ” “ straight trunks , warbling birds , leafy ” ” ” e e sun tr es , cooing dov s , hot , blossom ” e ing boughs of April, we h ar much of white ” ” ” e clouds , blue skies , white sails , gr en ” ” ” sun grass , golden , bowers green , and the e like . Wh n Keats tells us , picturing the Bacchic revellers in Endymion

Like to a moving vintage down they came Crowne wit reen ea es and aces all on ame d h g l v f ﬂ , the simple adjective has a fragrance and a magic unsurpass ed even in that mine of

- e e e heaven s nt pith ts . Imagination has taken a magnificent flight to circle back upon the the fine obvious . In picture of a day in e e late wint r , Bridges writ s

A ac roo stirs the ranc es ere and t ere bl k k b h h h , Foraging to repair His ro n ome b ke h .

Here the common epithet has no such imagina e e ee tiv str ngth . It could have b n applied e almost equally w ll to the bare branches . It merely ﬁxes for the rook his colour - value in t e the h picture . In the same way green grass and leafy trees and snowy skies do e e not , as a rul , carry any sp cial suggestion . They are simply colour units to be disposed as 8 4 L A N D S C A P E

e e the spirit of the sc n shall dictate . Assuming ee the e a k n actuality of imagination in r ader , the epithets could b e left out and w e should e use miss nothing . Behind th ir there is a robust sense that they are among the diviner commonplaces that will not stale with repeti tion ; they hint at an elevated s ense of com munion with nature in which the simplest properties of bird or ﬂower b egin to s eem the

most poetic . ’ In any case it is no part of Bridges method in thes e poems of landscape to strive for e e e his e sp cial ff ct in this or that part of pictur . He has so s evere an ey e for the whole that nothing of minor importance must stand out e e he e e b yond the r st . If v ntur s upon detailed e ﬂower— the d—scription of a as in poppy lyric it is generally in the simplest terms of its “ e e as sup rﬁcial quality , its attribut s an

e eme e . one l nt of expr ssion It is of the signs , the e e I think , of great po t that he is f arless in using the obvious epithet wh ere it will s erve a e e the coher nt pictur , as it is of small one that , e e e he in th s v ry conditions , abandons it to e the e e e the grop for xalting phras Tru , e e e adj ctive is only a po tic tradition , a l gacy of the —if e e Augustans , and it w r not for the l e exa ted s —nse of the obvious that I have mentioned more severe art would banish the 8 5 R O B E R T B R I D G E S

e common epithet altog ther . But few poets have used it so freely or effectively as Bridges for the sake of its mosaic value in a complex e e sch m . ee e f Ind d, in the ﬁn r ef orts of landscape it

e . e e tends to disapp ar H re is an xample , from the ﬁfth Book , of this most simple and subtle art

NORTH WIND IN OCTOBER

I n the golden glade the chestnuts are fallen all Fromthe sered boughs of the oak the acorns fall The b eech scatters her ruddy ﬁre The ime at stri e to the c o l h h pp d ld, And standeth naked ab ove her yellow attire The larc h thinneth her spire la w s of he woo wit t f To y the ay t d h clo h o gold .

Out of the golden - green and white Of the brake the ﬁr-trees stand upright I n the orest of ame and wa e a o t f ﬂ , v l f T the ue of ea en t eir u - een tu ti s o bl h v h bl e gr f ng soft .

But swi t in s u erin oomthe s en ours ai f ly h dd g gl pl d f l , As the harrying North -wi nd beareth A cloud of s kirmishing hail The grieved woodland to smite I n a urricane t rou the trees he tearet h h gh h , Ra in the ou s and the ea es ren in k g b gh l v d g, And whistleth to the descending i i Blows of h s icy ﬂa l . Go and snow he mixeth in s ite ld p , An d whirleth afar as away on his winnowing ﬂight He asset and all a ain for a whi e is ri t p h, g l b gh . 8 6 L A N D S C A P E

T he whole thing is very inelaborate . The ﬁrst s even lines are a ground harmony in s the hades of golden brown , of which ﬁrst e e The e pithet strikes the prevailing ton . ch st

u e - e bv n ts supply th ir warm red brown , mor e lie sugg stion than as part of the picture , to with the honey - brown acorns ; the hint of “ lemon - yellow borne by the word lime is “ reinforced by the pale gold of her yellow attire and the larch r epeats the prevailing tone with a scattering of her golden needles

e e - b tween the dark columns of th e tr e trunks . e e e are e e Thes , alr ady impli d , fin ly group d by ” suggestion in the ways of the wood . The middle part of the poem brings a e e the e dir ct not of contrast with first pictur , e e e which , how v r , is still enforc d with a firm and delicate iteration and a heightened brilliance by the phras es golden - green and white e e —a and for st of flam , vision of the blue

ee r- t e e sk e gr n ﬁ tops against h blu y . Th ir swaying tranquillity leads to the hu rrving e the chang of third picture , which spreads a e e e sudd n veil of grey and snow whit . Th n comes the bold mixing of gold and snow ; e e t e e th e th n, at a br ath , h storm pass s , and

ﬁrst picture shines out again . One could ﬁll the Space of this little poem many times over in pointing out all th e exquisite touch es it 8 7 R O B E R T B R I D G E S

holds . The perfectly adapted rhythmic e 1 5 motion of the last line , of lin , and in the e e 1 0 1 1 subtl changes of lin s and . The e f e e graduat d e fect of assonanc , in the sam ” “ e the fir - ee lin s , from words tr s , forest ” ” e flam , aloft , tuftings and soft the collision of final 3 and initi al s in the e e ve last two words , exquisit ly sugg sti ; “ ’ ” the blustering r s in lines 1 6 and 1 7 ; the characteristic inversions in the same place “ the path etic echo of fallen all the gently e e the w imaginativ p rsonification of north ind , finely subdued to th e se en effect of his move ment ; the amazingly skilful modulation of vowel sounds which gives such a rich succession of open notes in some fifty words of coneen trate e e e d d scription . With this ov rwh lming compression of b eautiful things I am not at the moment concern ed ; nor with the p erfect descriptive justice of every epithet in the poem . e e Consid r only , apart from the t chnical and b eautv th e e imaginative , car ful composition and

- e well adapted movem ent of the po m . I think e e e e e it is n arly ﬂawl ss . In a m thod wh r grouping must b e an effect of time instead of space ; where colour is more a matter of inﬁnitely careful suggestion than of realization ; where light and shade dep end on successive 8 8

R O B E R T B R I D G E S

e e e of Ther is a hill b side the silv r Thames , ” Se e e all in the cond Book ; Indol nc , in ” L ee e Book III ; ast w k of F bruary , The ” Th e is pinks along my garden walks , storm ” The e over , in Book IV ; and gard n in ” Se The ptember , and Palm Willow , in e are e e Book V . Th y all sustain d exampl s of ’ e e e e - Bridg s supr m art of v rse landscape . e e e use In spit of, or rath r becaus of, this of e e e e e almost un xpr ssiv phras s , one cannot h lp noticing the p erfect consistency of atmosphere ’ e e the e in a Bridg s pictur . It is pow r of drawing out the tone of som e scene over the e e whole of a poem . T nnyson had som thing of the same faculty ; I susp ect that it is a

- the e matter of vowel colour , of which po t had e The e e such a masterly s ens . ﬁn st exampl of it is from the New Poems

NOVEMB ER

The one season in one an s w en ﬂed l ly l ly l d , h Are a the ir s and mists lie low and the sun h lf b d , , I s rare seen nor stra eth far romhis b ed ly , y f

The short days pas s unwelcomed one by on e .

Out by the ricks the mantled engine stands Crest a en eserte —for now all an s f ll , d d , h d Are tol to the ou —and ere it is awn a ear d pl gh , d pp The teams o owin and crossin far and n ear f ll g g , As hour by hour they broaden the brown b ands Of the striped ﬁelds and behind themﬁrk and pranc e The ea roo s and aws re - ate ance h vy k , d g y p d d 9 0 L A N D S C A P E

As aw i e surmountin a crest in s ar out i h l , g , h p l ne ’ A miniature of toi a ems esi n ( l , g d g , ) e are icture orses and men or now near Th y p d , h , by A o e the ane t e s out i tin the s are b v l h y h l f g h , ’ By the trimhedgerow bloomd with purple air Where un er the t orns ea ea es in u e lie , d h , d d l v h ddl P ac e the a es of Autumn and in and ut k d by g l , o The small wrens glide Wit a note of c eer h h ppy h , And e ow amorets utter a o e and a out y ll ﬂ b v b ,

Ga ami iar in ear. y, f l f

And now if the ni t s a be co across the sk , gh h ll ld, y Linnets and twites in sma l oc s e ter-s e ter , l fl k h l k l , A the a ternoon to the ar ens ll f g d fly, Fromthistle- pastures hurrying to gain the shelter Of American rhododendron or cherry- laurel And ere an d t ere near c i settin of sun h h , h lly g , I n an isolated tree a congregation star in s c atter and chi e Of l g h d , ic set as summer ea es in arru ous uarre Th k l v , g l q l Su en t e us as one dd ly h y h h , The tree to s rin s p p g , And off wit a w irr of win s , h h g , They fly by the score To the o - t ic et and t ere wit m ria s more h lly h k , h h y d Dis ute for the roosts and romthe unseen nation p , f A a e of ton ues i e runnin water unceasin b b l g , l k g g, Ma es i e the woo the oc in cries increasin k l v d , fl k g g, Wran in iscor ant incessant gl g d d ly, ly, While fall s the night on themself- occupied The on ar ni t t at en t ens s ow l g d k gh , h l g h l , Dee enin wit Winter to star e rass and tree p g h v g , And soon to bury in snow ’ The Eart t at s ee in neat her rozen sto e h , h , l p g h f l Shall dreama dreamcrept fromthe sunless pole how r Of he end shall be . 9 1 R O B E R T B R I D G E S

e e e e ﬁne O e Her th r is no lin , from the p ning the e e e to suprem ly imaginativ clos , that is

the e e - e e e not tinged with sam p arl gr y atmosph r , as though not only th e trim h edgerow but the e whol scene took its colour from th e air . This ’ asp ect of Bridges genius is more noticeable p erhaps in the New Poems than anywhere e e e e e e ls , though in oth r r sp cts th y hardly e e e e The r ach the l vel of the arli r work . ﬁrst E clo ue is e e the g a lov ly pag ant of months , a string of precious stones each gl eaming with e The e its delicate or ﬁ ry lustre . two that b st illustrate this subtle control of atmosphere are July

Hea is the reen of the e s ea the trees vy g ﬁ ld , h vy Wit olia e an row s the humof ees h f g h g , d y b ’ I n the thund rous air the crowded scents lie low ’ an f we s i w Thro t gl e o ed the r ver runn eth slo .

And October

On rost morns wit the woo s aﬂame own own f y h d , d , d n s i s a t i t t The golde p o l f ll h ck from he chestn u crown . Ma Autumn in tran ui or her ric es s en y q l gl y h p d , m w a e her or ar - r With ello ppl s ch d b anches ben d .

H e e is vigorous , too , in choosing pr cisely the e e e e most ffectiv mat rial for his pictur s , down on e to the most casual points . In of the the poems we read that , at approach of night

The broad cloud - driving moon in the clear sky ’ Lifts o er the ﬁrs her shining shield . 9 2 L A N D S C A P E

From another poem I take

And ar on the ash- ou s Ne er did t rus sin h k, b gh v h h g Louder in praise of spring

When s pring is come. In the next

All day in the sweet box- tree the bee for pleasure hummeth

I would point to the perfect instinct for th e essential sup erficial quality in the choice the ash of firs in first poem , of an tree in the ee the second , and a box tr in third . In the last two instances it adds a touch of imagina tive suggestion to its perfect pictorial aptness . In the same way the poet rarely fails in his e e e S choic of the essential pith t . uch pictures of flowers as thes e

Nor more of ea acint now ma rin h vy hy h y d k, Nor s ic in p y p k, ’ Nor summer s rose nor arnere a en er , g d l v d , B ut the few lingering scents strea e ea and ill ﬂ ower and stoc s Of k d p , g y , k court ur e and aromatic o Of ly p pl phl x,

the and , within same poem , dreamy butter ” “ - l e flies , deepest throated b ooms , idl “ e e e ffort ragg d parliament , the g ntle flaws of the western breeze are examples that can b e paralleled at random throughout the Shor er e t P o ms . ’ e e Another eff ct of Bridges mosaic m thod , 9 3 R O B E R T B R I D G E S in which all the parts are essential and none - the di pre eminent , is unusual gnity that falls upon the common words of the language . It is a manner which curiously calls attention to words which have generally kept a minor ee e the e place , or have b n mad peg for a phras e or epithet . Even the simpler names of tr es e the e and flow rs , and more lementary words sk sea e e e y , grass , , and fi ld , are som tim s strangely e ee as enhanced by this m ans . It s ms if a word which has once borne an important part in a colour scheme suggests harmonics in the e e tonal eff ct of a lin , related here by assonance and here by rhyme to some other parts of r the structu e , and bearing a subtle share in e the rhythmic schem , will give out more l pure y its intrinsic colour and beauty . It is difficult to illustrate a point dep ending upon such fragile relations :perhaps the following lines will serve

And at all times to hear are drowsy tones izz es an d ummin ron es Of d y ﬂi , h g d , Wit s u en ﬂa of i eon win s in the sk h dd p p g g y, Or the wild cry Of thi rsty rooks that scour ascare The istant ue to waterin as t e are d bl , g h y f it re i inion s W h c ak ng p .

It is impossible to exaggerate the technical e e N is compl xity of this lat r method . othing 9 4 L A N D S C A P E to be gained by dissecting all the devices that T e go to the making of its polyphony . h re is none that is actually new in English verse , but no poet has lavished and combined them e s o conﬁdently as Bridges . At times th y are spun together with an almost incredible mastery one would be dazzled by the e e juggl ry of the t chnique if it were not always , e l or n arly a ways , subordinate to the form of e l the whole . Th re is hard y a poem , I think ,

in the ﬁve books of lyrics , that gives such an effect of severe form as The Downs

o ma estic owns smoot air and one O b ld j d , h, f l ly 0 sti so itu e on matc e in the s ies ll l d , ly h d k P erilous in stee aces p pl , So t in the e e races f l v l , Where sweeping in phantomsilence the cloudland ﬂies With lovely undulation of fall and rise Entrenc e wit t i c ets t orne h d h h k h d, By delicate miniature dainty ﬂowers adorned

I c im our crown and lo a s i t sur risin l b y , gh p g sea in ront u risin stee and wi e Of f p g, p d And scattered ship s ascen ding To ea en ost in the en in h v , l bl d g O i stant ues w ere water and sk i i e f d bl , h y d v d , Ur in t eir en ines a ainst win and ti e g g h g g d d , And all so small and slow e see to b i Th y m e wear ly p ointing the way they would go.

The accumu ate murmur of so t as in l d f pl h g, wa es on roc s as in and searc i n the san s Of v k d h g h g d , a es m ear in the eerin T k y , v g B a e win as rearin fﬂ d d, g 9 5 R O B E R T B R I D G E S

U ri t at the c i f to the ul ies and ri ts he stan s p gh l f , g l f d And his con quering surges scour out over the lan ds While again at the foot of the downs He m s asses hi s strength to recover the topmost crown .

le It is worth whi , at the risk of being l l academic , to ook at some of the subt eties that underlie the lovely ﬂow of the poem .

The rhythm , to begin with , is subtly ﬁtted Th e to the sense in every part . sweep of the — the ﬁrst line which holds , by way, in eleven e syllable—s , every epith t necessary to the picture is beautifully expressive of the noble e the skylin of downs . In the second line the

e e . m tre , as it wer , turns back upon itself e Falling takes the place of rising str ss , with a e curious suggestion of drift and p rspective , as though the motive power of the rhythm e off e e had been turn d , and the v rse w re e the carried on by the imp tus of ﬁrst words , ” e till the line fades in the op en vowel of ski s . Among other e ffects that of heavily - laden stress es in the last line of the s econd stanza is the e e the most obvious . Again vow l ton s t generally take the colour of he picture . In the ﬁrst line they are all grave the only e the e stressed short vow l is in word maj stic , e e e which has a sugg stiv b auty of its own . In e e l the e the s cond lin , fol owing rhythmic chang , they are quite distinct ; the stressed vowels 9 6

R O B E R T B R I D G E S

themselves on our notice by the beauty of their e e e e r r ff ct . Th r a e a host of commonly recu ring devices which add incontestably to the e e e t e e We fre consummat ff ct of h vers . th e e quently ﬁnd lurking in po ms , and quite e the e c n hanedd roes unsyst matized , tru y g g , cynghanedd lusg and cynghan edd s ain of the e e e e e The intricat t xtur of W lsh po try . e e structur of such lines as thes , which would e surpris us in another English poet , would not seem unnatural in Bridges

P ro ais ui ethais n aith f , f , y f 0 brif ieithoedd braf wythi aith Ni phrofais dan ﬁurfafen ’ mor h r mr Gwe gaet a Gy aeg wen .

e few the e I will only notic , then , a of d vices ee e which m t us most commonly . Her is a delightful double assonance

B eneath the sun at indolent n oonday

Or in the wind moon - enchanted ni t y gh ,

e e e e A similar ff ct , inv rt d , is

I n atient russet is his orest s rea p f p d, All ri t wit ram e red b gh h b bl , With beechen moss k i And holl sheen the oa s er and star etc . y , , lv k,

More suggestive of deliberation is the beautiful e cho at the end of the Elegy on a Lady 9 8 L A N D S C A P E

The rest stan d by in state And sing her a safe passage over

Whil e she is oared across to her new home.

This p erfect sense of the values of con e the sonant , vowel and position ext nds to e No least adorn d of the poems . one but the author of L on don S n ow could have written even s o trivial and apparently artless a stanza as the ﬁrst of the Rondeau at the end of e Book I . The lin ,

Han in his ui er at hi s hi s g g q v p , implies a whole store of delicate perceptions e T e which f w other poets have shown us . h re e e is mat rial enough in this littl book of poems , e e e e e wer ther material nough to d v lop it , for e e a whole syst m of extremely subtl art .

There is only one other point I need notice . It is a method which dep ends as much upon the association of subtle ideas as upon its ear e e e appeal to the . Wh r allit ration and e f e e is b assonanc are e fective, I b liev it y reason of every word connoting by its sound on e e e alone at least id a s parate from itself . A combination of like sounds is us eless unless it carries with it either a comparison or contrast e e the e of th s harmonics of languag . It is astonishing how strongly an impression can b e e e the intensiﬁ d by assonance , provid d com 9 9 R O B E R T B R I D G E S bination enforced is suggestive of the central ’ e e word or id a . To consid r, from Bridges e work , only a few ffects

B eneath the crisp and wintry carpet hid A mi ion u s but sta t eir ossomin ll b d y h bl g,

’ And neath the mock sun searching everywhere Rattles the crisped l eaves with shivering din

The wood is bare a river- mist is steeping ’ The trees that winter s chill of life bereaves n t eir sti ene ou s rea si ence wee in O ly h ff d b gh b k l , p g er t eir a en ea es Ov h f ll l v .

We skated on streamand pond we cut The crinchi ng snow To Doric tem e or Arctic hut pl .

I quote the ﬁrst three examples for the “ ” the the assonance of the short i , fourth for ” crin c in e e e e e word h g . In ach cas th ir ff ct is to reinforce the idea and sound of the words ” e the e wint r and chill . In s cond quota e tion , rattle distinctly suggests anoth r short i - that of the word brittle In the few instances in the Shorter P oems where assonance is unconvincing it generally fails to e e depend upon som such central id a . It is impossible to s ay whether the poet will ever b e able to depend so fearlessly on the suggestive 1 00

M I L T O N ’ S P R O S O D Y

ONE may generally recognize a deﬁnite advance e in any art , in that it will meet with g neral as disapproval . The prosody of Bridges h e be n more widely criticized , condemned and is misunderstood than any aspect of h work . e e s It is h r that he break really new ground . e S horter oems Wh n the P were ﬁrst issued ,

th e so- e work in the new, call d stress prosody, l was carefu ly distinguished by small type . It was just these poems to which a distinguished living critic—whose work occasionally appears — The in garlands of poetry strongly objected . lyrics in large type pleased him greatly the rest seemed to be hardly different from prose .

That was thirty years ago . By this time one or two critics of metre have helped us to l l e is rea ize that most Eng ish v rse prose, but that those bewildering adventures in small type were at least the indication of a true T ustiﬁca prosodic method . hey are their own j 1 02 M I L T O N ’ S P R O S O D Y

few e tion , and I suppose there are mod rn ea e r ders of po try , and no poets , who ﬁnd any ’ n lt e e e thi g diﬂi cu or obscur about th m . Bridg s o e e e inn vation is , aft r all , not in its lf v ry

t . star ling Briefly , he substitutes for a line whi ch is measured by syllables a line which e is measur d by stresses . This statement is made with many res ervations ; as that stress must not b e interpreted as meaning definite emphasis of a syllable ; that the number of stress es in a line is n eces s arilv doubtful ; and that a whole s eri es of rhyt hms and conventions b elonging prop erly to the old style have per e e the sisted into the new . Befor d fining prosody of Bridges more carefully it is worth while briefly to examine the point from which he s e set out , and his own vi ws of prosody con tai e e n d in the essay on Miltonic blank vers . So much ink has gone to the explaining of English verse rhythms that it is time the critics realized that rhythm is not meant to b e b e e explained , but only to und rstood . I do not suppose that Vergil could have ex e e plain d his own prosody, or point d out in ’ e n what way it differed from Hom r s . U the e fortunately , too , almost whol system of criticizing English prosody rests on a mis e appr hension . The fact is sadly appropriate in that English prosody also was founded on a 1 03 R O B E R T B R I D G E S

mistake . When a good Christian whose name is forgotten wrote

Lactas dies hic transeat m P udor s it at diluculu , meridies Fides velut , Crepusculummens nesciat

e was h producing what is , in form as e the spirit , po try . But author of stanza as this gave us neither

C onsur it Christus tumulo g ,

Victor vedit de barathro, Tyrannumtrudens vinculo n ad m Et resera s par isu .

The first is written to a definite scheme of long and short syllables ; the second has nothing to distinguish it from pros e but an implied e e e l e out paus after very ighth sy labl , picked e in this case by assonanc . e his English v rse, from Chaucer and imitators the e for onwards , chose second kind of structur e the e model rath r than first . It consist d of the division of Speech into lengths which held each the same number of syllables ; and the divisions were usually indicated by a borrowed fashion of riming the final syllables of adjacent divisions . It was usual also , following an e e lementary rhythmic ideal , to contriv that fo not only this last syllable should be, r 1 04

R O B E R T B R I D G E S poet can ; but he begins his explanation of them thus

A typical blank verse may be d escribed as obeying these conditions (1 ) It has ten syllables (2) It has ﬁve s resses 3 I is in ris n rh thm ha is the t ; ( ) t i g y , t t , s resses ar on n s s t e up eve yllable .

I should like to mitigate this rather alarming preface by rememb ering that such is probably the way in which Milton hims elf regarded his e s o own maj estic medium . Ev n , the critic of vers e would not be justiﬁed in making three postulates s o utterly misleading ; for it is notorious that the artist is generally incapable of explaining his own verse . But in his intro e e e duction , add d ight y ars later , Bridges writes My intention throughout has been to provide a sound foundation for a grammar ’ of English prosody on the basis of Milton s ” practice . is His attitude , in a way, typical of the method of critics of prosody since the begin ’ e M il o ning of their p rverse endeavours . t n s ros od P y is a careful piece of work , and contains e e as some really sugg stive appendic s , but a study of rhythm it is singularly unsuccessful . It is obvi—ous to everyone that the typical line of Milton who may be fairly assumed to—have understood the writing of blank verse has 1 06 M I L T O N ’ S P R O S O D Y

five e less than stress s , and is accented any where but upon even syllables . As Bridges himself points out in his conclusion We ’ may s ay generally that Milton s system in Paradise Lost was an attempt to keep blank e verse decasyllabic by m ans of fictions . This is a judgment which cannot be dis ute Yet e is e p d . ther no r ason but custom for ’ comp elling all critics of vers e from Milton s t e N e day forward to be party to h fraud . on theless Bridges advances logically from his hypothesis to elaborate precisely the same e e fictions . He tr ats sol mnly of supernumerary “ e e e syllabl s , of elision , of inv rted str ss , and

- generally of a five foot line . His con clusions e e are perf ctly accurat , and are evidently the result of much labour . But they do not take us a step furth er than any e e h e pr vious critics hav done . W il admitting, e practically, that Milton did much to introduc e the natural rhythms of spe ch into poetry , he continues to explain th e finest lines of Paradise “ — Lost in terms of feet a word borrowed from criticism of classical prosody, in which the foot was , generally speaking , a known quantity e with a definite relative value in tim . It is this pseudo - classical foot rule that has vitiated all criticism of our po etry until quite recent e the u s e l years . It betrays its lf in of classica 1 07 R O B E R T B R I D G E S

terms descriptive of quantity iambus , ” ” ” trochee, pyrrhic, galliambic, and the rest . To take even such lines as these from Chaucer

A marchaunt was ther with a forke d berd I n mottele e an d i on ors he sat y , h gh h , Upon his heed a Flaundrisch b evere hat His botes clasped fair and fety sly and to describe them as iambic , is obviously are e the absurd . They str ssed , certainly , on even syllables and if many such cons ecutive lines were common in the Canterbury Tales e b e th y would fairly unreadable . But the ’ e e assumption sinc Chauc r s day, by poets and the l e critics alike , is that norma English p nta e e m ter line is a succession of iambic fe t . This confusion of thought is accountable for much of the poverty of rhythm in minor English e vers . The inﬂexibility of metric scheme in classic poetry was j oined with a free distribution of stresses ; and it is the weaving of natural sp eech - rhythms upon a quantitative metric e e e bas , in its lf a constant rhythmic patt rn , e e e though quite diff r ntly obtain d , that pro e e e e the e duc s most of the m tric b auti s of v rse . e has In ordinary English po try , quantity no e place in the rhythmic sch me , which has only 1 08

R O B E R T B R I D G E S

be explained by the phras es inverted s econd foot and weak fourth foot does l e the not a t r for a moment fact that , if alter e e b e the e nat str ss basis of blank v rse , it is a e e base which is rar ly pr sent , and often com letel Nor s ee p y disregarded . do I how the persistent idea of such a base can be considered S as an element in poetic rhythm . uch a line as Uni ersa re roac far worse to ear v l p h , b

in which only the fifth and sixth and the two l e ast syllables form iambic f et , does not seem as if it can gain any rhythm from an idea which directly contradicts the cadence of the ” first two feet , and is not in accord with the Nor e e the third . do s the sugg stion that ” minority of normal feet in such a line serves to maintain the unity of the rhythm t e appear to be very much to h point . If it be s o e , it is pres rving the idea of a rhythm which e e e e e is und sirabl , in spit of d finit negation of

such rhythm . If such irregular lines are written for the sake of e—nhancing rhythm as one can hardly doubt it cannot be the rhythm of the normal line which is en

hanced . There seems no way out of the difﬁculty ’ but to confess at once that Milton s verse and most English verse since Milton has no 1 1 0 M I L T O N ’ S P R O S O D Y rhythmic scheme at all any more than it has e e e e e e a metric schem or a sch m of r gular str ss s .

T e e e e e the - e h only invariabl l m nt is line l ngth . In the choruses of Samson Agonistes we lose the e e e lin also and , in th ir formal asp ct , we may e on e 1 852 as w ll admit , as did Evans in , that e e O th y are not v rse at all . ur truly lyric ” e e po try must ev r be a blank , said this despondent p erson ; an evil genius presided at its birth . We are still a long way from a satisfactory e scientific d finition of rhythm in the abstract . But of poetic rhythm one may say at once e that it is a compromis , or rather a resultant e of two forces . Bridg s himself has pointed out in a later essay 1 that quantity is the only e ffi e factor that is alon su —ci nt to give rhythm . Variation of pitch alone that is a succession of different notes of equal length and loudness cannot produce it ; variation of strength will produce only the most elementary im The G ee e in pression of it . r ks , or who ver e e the e e e e e v nt d Hom ric h xam t r, r alized that in quantity was the only sci entific basis for a —a prosody truth which still holds good . the With the loss of classical system of prosody, e e e e — Europ an v rs becam syllabic that is ,

1 “ A letter to a Musician on En lish P rosod Musical Anti g y, uar O r g y, ctobe , 1909 . 1 1 1 R O B E R T B R I D G E S

- e merely a matter of line l ngths , without e e r gulation of str ss , and with no regard for quantity . In Spite of the absence of quantity from the e e scheme of English vers , I am not awar that anvone has h eld that th ere is no such thing as t e e T e e poetic rhythm in h languag . h pov rty e e of rhythm , ven in Milton , is obvious nough to any reader who will honestly consider Paradise Lost or Samson after a few hundre d e the E —rovided of e h e lin s from neid p , , cours e read his V rgil rationally , with a bold dis e t e regard of th e m thod of h older Universities . The rhythm of all English poetry before e e the e e e Col ridg , and of gr at r part of it Sinc , is the result of an accumulation of rhythmic e on e e the e the eff cts , wrought aft r oth r from e e e unpromising mat rial of a syllabic v rs , and it is in this light that any hon est account of e e e rhythm must consid r it . Th r is nothing in the wretch ed skeleton of the syllabic e e method to account for it . Ev n grant d a “ ” e e e e basic id a of alt rnat str ss , inversions , ” e the e e weak fe t , and lik will not giv us The even an illusion of rhythm . conﬂict is radically different from that between Sp eech

e e e patt rn and m tric pattern , acc nt and e is quantity , in classical verse . If th re an

- opposition it is b etween two Sp eech patterns . 1 1 2

R O B E R T B R I D G E S

the The e e form to standard . influ nc of Langland and the northern poets was always ’ e e e pr sent to Chauc r s school , whisp ring happy phrases which scorned the limits of alternate On e the e e e stress . of arliest lib rti s which can almost certainly b e referred to the influence “ the L the of atin hymns , was inversion of e the first foot . Chaucer b gins innumerable e e lines with a stress d syllabl .

B ri t was the sonn e and c ear t at morwen n e gh l h y g ,

Bright w as the sonne is a phrase any poet set would be happy to down ; in addition , it shows one of the commonest rhythms of English

e e e - Spe ch . If th n , such a sp ech rhythm is per e the missibl at beginning of a line , why should it be denied a place elsewhere

Truthe and ono r ree omand curtes e h u , f d y Curt e s he was ow and serv sable y , l ly y

e the e e wrote Chauc r , doubling off nc , and coming p erilously near to the rhythm of the other school of poets who wrote their lines in balanced halves and cared not for syllabic l strictness . In fact the norma rhythms of speech were not to be kept out of verse for more than a few years . Even one of the — simplest stress combinations a noun preceded by an adj ective when each are of one syllable e e e g nerally gav two conting nt stresses , and 1 1 4 M I L T O N ’ S P R O S O D Y

called for the introduction of eith er a doubl e ” e e e e str ss d or an invert d foot . Comp nsation e t de allowed the weak foot , already urg n ly man ded by the simple stress scheme of such ” e phras s as struck with his arm , end of ” e the The e the tal , and like . structur did not , on e e e e e as would exp ct , fall to pi c s und r this invasion ; it Slowly absorbed the phrasing of e e e e natural Spe ch . It is ss ntial to any po tic form of worth that it will accommodate the e e e t e e T e l m ntary rhythms of h languag . h maj ority of ﬁve - foot lines in the older poets e e e e asily r solve thems lves into two , or l ss often

e . e three , such Simpl stress groups Th ir e e charact ristic rhythms , Slightly modiﬁ d by e e e the line , becom st adily mor common and e e e familiar . Chauc r could hardly hav writt n

Wherein old dints of deep woun ds did remain

The soothe of birds by beating of their wi ngs but phrases of adj acent stress and of stress es e e ee e e e s parat d by thr light syllabl s , hav Sinc e e b come the commonplaces of English vers . I regard these short sp eech - stress com bination s ee - , or Sp ch phrases , as giving a far more natural analysis of the line than a e fanciful division into feet . A lin will fall easily and unmistakably into two or three 1 1 5 R O B E R T B R I D G E S

e e such phrases , which , as w ll as b ing the natural division which the s ense of the writing e e — demands , are the units of spe ch its lf for every pause in sens e is marked by a change in S e pitch . tr ss in English is not normally given by pronouncing on e syllable with more e e e vigour than anoth r, xc pt under conditions e of special emphasis . It is usually express d by e e e a chang of pitch , ith r on , after , or within “ ” the syllable which we describe as stressed . e e e The last word of a normal sent nc , unl ss it b e e nclitic , is generally marked by a fall in e pitch through nearly five ton s . The syllable e e to be str ssed is often influenced by d rivation . Ge e the b e e the n rally , if word a monosyllabl the e fall is within vowel itself, wh ther long or S e e hort if a disyllabl , the stressed p nultimate is in the higher pitch and the unstressed last t e e en syllable in h low r . The d of a normal e e stress phras is marked by this cadenc . Thus a combination of a disyllabic noun qualified by a disyllabic adj ective—such as A little learning may be musically represented thus

3 5 5 3 2:

when the ﬁrst syllable of little is only by e courtesy graced with a str ss because , taken 1 1 6

R O B E R T B R I D G E S

’ Thy youth s proud livery so gazed on now Will be a tattered weed of small worth held en bein asked where all th eaut ies Th g y b y l , Where all the treasure of th ust a s y l y d y , To say within thin e own deep - sunken eyes

W - r ise ere an all eatin g shame an d thriftles s p a .

This is obviously the only disintegration which the ear e The e will acc pt . italiciz d words on e e e connect phras with anoth r , leading generally in a Slightly ascending cadence from the lower pitch to the high er : though it should b e noticed that a cadence which e e indicat s only a pause , not a p riod, in sense , e e e e is xactly inv rt d . Thus the phras s a little learning and a dangerous thing are e e s parat ly spoken to the same cadence . But in the line

A little learning is a dangerous thing the cadence of learning is from a lower

e e e b e e pitch to a high r , for th r would oth r wise an awkward l eap to the higher level of ” e dang rous . The whole question of accent in English has ee e e e the e e b n sadly n gl ct d , and in abs nc of a on e philosophic account of it , can only indicate e On e the e its broadest lin s . of main principl s e b e e invari app ars to that wh re , as is almost the e the e e e is ably cas , ﬁnal phras of a s ntenc e e e in falling cad nc , all phrases that l ad up to 1 1 8 M I L T O N ’ S P R O S O D Y

e e it hold a ris of pitch . In qu stions the whole e e e e e e e sequ nc is som tim s r v rs d . I should not have touched upon matters which are at pres ent mainly guesswork if it did not seem to me that the distinction betwe en syllabic vers e rhythm and pros e The rhythm is mainly one of cadence . ques tion of accent is particularly deserving of detailed analysis in English for I suppos e the system is less touched by degeneration than e e e is e e in any European languag . Th r a d ﬁnit e tendency, how ver , to which one can point . While every phras e in a s entence is made to — subs erve the principal which is generally the ﬁn al— e e the e e cad nc , conn cting or nclitic the S e words , such as those italicized in hak e e e are ee sp ar octave abov , , in common sp ch , hurri ed over and given barely half their valu e e e e the in tim . I have sugg st d that only unchanging element in syllabic vers e is th e

e - e ee b e e e lin l ngth , which s ms to an asily r cog n ize e d constant . Pr vious to a temporal con c e tion the e u s e p of rhythm , effect of a larg r of natural sp eech - groups has been inevitably to pres erve a counterbalancing strictness in the length of the line just as syllabic irregu larity was later atoned for by the regular e e —an e e e grouping of str ss s v n hard r tyranny . ’ Thus Milton s elaborate scansion of his 1 1 9 R O B E R T B R I D G E S

e - He str ss groups was not entirely academic . surely realized the absolute need of syllabic strictness to maintain the proper balance between the factors then n ecessary to poetic e rhythm . Rime giv s no true musical delite ; which consists only in apt Numbers ; ﬁt quantity of syllables ; and the s ense variously drawn out from one vers e into e h e e e anoth r . W er the lem nts of rhythm S O e the has are few, the l ngth of line been e e e found most important to it , as the p rsist nc of rime which is merely a Sp ecial emphasis of

e - e e lin l ngth goes to Show . Wh n the sense is one e e e e drawn out from lin to anoth r , it b com s more than ever essential to maintain the e syllabic id a . The e e is lin , th n , apparently responsible e e e e e for the chang of cad nc in v rs . The words which in ordinary Speech are hurried over as e e the e being , in a s nse, outsid succ ssion of cadences must be given more value if the syllabic idea is to b e maintained ; partly by e e the emphasis of mor car ful pronunciation , and partly by being brought nearer in pitc h to

- the important words of a speech phrase . And Since these transitional words are generally e e e between diff rent l vels of pitch , the r sult of this change is a general and most noticeable e levelling of pitch throughout . H nce the 1 20

R O B E R T B R I D G E S

e e only two phrases in a lin . This laboration results in a line of quick and short phrasing with frequent pauses

Ought to b e Kin g fromwhose rules who do swerve And oo s a ore in tem e of our eart . , /f l , d pl h

True /and yet true /that I /must /Stella /love.

as are The grammatical pauses , Slight they , e S introduc an element of syncopation . uch a line as

I Frenc can et t ree arts in one a ree f h y h p g , though the Short phrasing even follows the

- e old stress iambic structur , carries a distinct t e e opposition to that s ructur . R ading it e smoothly , and without br ak , one is forcing The e it into a Slightly alien mould . ( lin will generally b e read with a slight lengthening “ ” “ ” e e e et aft r French , a slight paus aft r y , a “ lengthening of three parts and a paus e The e after one . effect of rim , again , in the sonnet form , is to make the whole line e the e e subserv ﬁnal cad nc ; that is , the correspondence of the lines demands verv The great smoothness . contrast of this tendency with the syncopation produces a n ew e e e AS and very subtl rhythmic ff ct . a kind of on e e e S compromise ﬁnds , sp cially in idney, many lines which refuse to resolve thems elves 1 22 M I L T O N ’ S P R O S O D Y

- into stress combinations ; where , in fact , line is the phrase

one is t wi r f m mi G he nte o y sery .

I never drank of Aganippe w ell

Nor ever did in shade of Tempe Sit .

e S e Ther is no doubt , however , that idn y and the early Elizabethans generally were running great risks of losing rhythm altogeth er in trusting it to minutely syncopated single syllable bars rather than to the variation of one e e r freer phrasing . To this attribut s th i marked return to the use of alliteration and e S e e the e internal assonanc . hak spear , on oth r e e hand , was the ﬁrst to realiz the allusiv possibilities of the sp eech - phras e ; one may note it in the intimate inter - relation of phrasing the e ee in most of sonn ts . Ind d , common speech - rhythms are used s o freely that many e e e are of the lines , tak n s parat ly , hardly distinct from pros e ; th ey a re saved by this

e ee - e e e clos relation of Sp ch phras s and h nc , I e e the think , the dir ctn ss and rapidity of sonnets in Spite of the intricacy of their

conceits . ’ M ilton s Prosody arrives at sound conclu Sions by means which one hop es w e have s een the T e e last of . h mancipation of normal stresses reached in Milton its furthest d evelop 1 23 R O B E R T B R I D G E S

We ment consistent with the syllabic idea . have not improved upon it in syllabic verse . e S e The rhythms of such a po m as Mr . teph n ’ e e Phillips Christ in Had s , which has be n e e l warmly prais d for m tric origina ity , might have been delib erately moulded upon the rules which Bridges deduces from his N examination of Milton . othing more is likely to be done in the emancipation of pure e syllabic v rse .

1 24

R O B E R T B R I D G E S

’ to M ilton s Prosody he formulates some of the rules of stress - verse thus m I . Th s r ss o rn s th r t e t e g ve e hy h . mu t b ru - r ss s II Th s ress s s s ch s e e . . e t e e t e p ee t III A s r ss has more carr in ower o er the . t e y g p v s yllable next to it than it has over a syllable removed romi an in r nin s f t by te ve g yllable . I V A stress has a ecu iar stron a rac on for . p l ly g tt ti i cs n itics its own p rocl ti and e cl . V A stress wi n ot carr a heav s a e wh ch . ll y y yll bl i r mi an o r s a is emoved fro t by th e yll ble . A s ress wi not carr more an one hea VI . t ll y th vy s e or two s a es on the same Si of it yllabl light yll bl de .

Here are rules which the ear at once accepts The e as just . fourth is a conv nient way of expressing what the development of verse has — already indicated that the unit of verse is

ee - e the e- the Sp ch phras , natural sens division ,

b e - - e whether it Single stressed or double stress d . The distinction of heavy and light syllables is

e - gen rally just , for natural speech rhythms are determined by quantity far more than one e susp cts . —in his But Bridges neglects theory , not in — work the immediate danger that comes with the e the abandonment of lin . If one has hitherto considered English verse as a succes ee sion of feet , it will s m no less reasonable to regard it as a succession of stresses each 1 26 T H E P R O S O D Y O F B R I D G E S

attracting its own subordinate syllables . But as soon as it is realized that English verse Since Chaucer has been just such a succession

e - e t of sp ech phras s , and that its rhy hm has

e e e - e r sult d from an unvarying lin l ngth , it will e e e app ar that , losing the strict lin , it los s an S e essential part of itself . uch a m thod brings us dangerously near to freeing the stress at the

e e S ee - exp ns of the prosody . p ch stress has always governed the rhythm but in SO- called syllabic verse there was a rhythm to be

e - e e gov rned ; in pure stress vers e th r is not . The whole difﬁcul ty of the writers of stress verse is to ﬁnd an adequate substitute for the

e - e e e e lin length , and up to the pr s nt th y hav e failed . Bridges hims lf, with an instinctive e realization of the dang r, has achieved a consummately skilful compromise with the e e The the old r mann r . bulk of work in which he has made it really successful is very small . e e e He has nev r publish d an unsuccessful att mpt . He seems to have been aware that his method e e men the is not for l ss r to follow . At end of ’ an interesting appendix to M ilton s Pros ody the best things in the book are tucked away — at the end he wrote

I will only add that when English p oets will write rs o erne on s na ura s eech s ress ve e g v d h e tly by t l p t , 1 27 R O B E R T B R I D G E S

he wi isco er the aw s for hemse es and wi t y ll d v l t lv , ll find op en to th eman in finite field of rhythmas yet untou T r i s h w ic ma n ot be don e ched . he e not ing h h y in it and it is erha s not the least o its advanta es , p p f g that it makes exc lle ce di icu lt e n fi .

I am not contending here that strict form e e is ess ntial to good po try , or that its rhythms must necessarily b e distinct almost in kind e e S one e from thos of pros . uch would gath r ’ e b e his e from Bridg s work to own vi w, in e e Spit of the words I hav italicized . But it is undeniable that the idea of a prosody whos e recommendation is that there is nothing ” b e e e e which may not don in it , is quit ali n the the e from Spirit of all great art of Europ , ’ including Bridges own . As a matter of fact a very short considera tion of the small output of pure stress - prosody Since Coleridge will b e enough to prove its The e e — failure . b tt r poets Coleridge himself , S e e — e e hell y , and T nnyson wh n th y possibly imagined themselves to be following the new e principle , have don nothing of the sort . The only verse governed honestly by disregard of e verything but speech - stress has been that of S i winburne and his mitators , and the English e e e e e acc ntual hexam t r . Christab l , as has be n e e the often nough pointed out , do s not follow e e e faith it prof ss s . In the ﬁrst ﬁfty lin s of the 1 28

R O B E R T B R I D G E S

e Su erficiall the superfluous syllabl s . p y , first e e e d scription is mor appropriat ; actually , I the O e e think , second . bviously the v rs has no e longer any scientific basis whatev r , and I — think the ear which is the only real arbiter in — thes e matters will detect a certain loss of e e e e e rhythm v n wh r rhythm is most mphasized . That such a system will satisfy it at all goes to Show how p ersistent the idea of th e five - foot syllabic line as holding five e e e see stresses has be n . Oth rwis I do not how we could s o readily accept conven tion al unnatural stresses and subdue real ones . But Bridges has a rule to meet the diffi culty

I n some me r s when our and in an me re when t e f , y t more than our un stresse s a es occur to ether f , d yll bl g , he wi occu the ace of a s ress w ic ma be t y ll py pl t , h h y said to b e distributed over th em an d a lin e in which such a collection of s yllables occurs will lac k one of

its stresses .

Thus the element of time creeps back , but in far less obvious fashion than in the easily

te - e recognized value of a n syllabl line . It is present as a kind of hidden pulsation upon which the rhythms of Speech are loos ely e e e e syncopat d . This is a conc ption of v rs which has grown very familiar of late , and 1 30 T H E P R O S O D Y O F B R I D G E S the critical explanations of Sydney Lanier and e 1 e e Mr . J . M . Rob rtson are , on the whol , a v ry e e e just pr s ntment of it . Previously a m trist who had the advantage of b eing also a poet ” e had d ﬁned metre as something measured , e the e e e e nam ly, tim occupi d in the d liv ry of ” e e a series of words , which is m asur d by an ” ictus or beat , actual or mental , dividing e speech into equal or proportionat spaces . In e addition , Patmor insisted strongly upon the importance of tone as an essential factor in

metre . This application of musical phraseology to V e e O erse rhythms has c rtain dang rs . bviously the idea of a regular pulse has b een the actual bas e upon which a good deal of verse since e Tennyson has been written . Consequ ntly it is quite a fair way of explaining or analysing e e such vers . It is at best rath r an elementary the e e source of rhythm , and only less r po ts e e hav been faithful to it . It does not tak a great deal of perception to discover that TC IIII YSOINS B rea rea rea k , b k, b k,

ee - e is approximately in thr tim ; that is , that the words follow each other at equal intervals

1 f O whi h a i Mr. T c n excellent accoun t may be foun d n . ’ “ ” Omnd n li 1 h ri S . E h o s g sh Metrists in the 1 8t and 9 t C entu es . Henr Froude ( y , 1 31 R O B E R T B R I D G E S and may be represented as taking each with e its paus the time of a dotted crotchet . The actual word is assumed to have the value of a e e quaver or of a crotch t . Actually , I suppos , a natural reading would make it nearly a e e dott d quav r . But when we come to the less e Simpl structure of the next line ,

On th co re stones 0 sea y ld g y , we are e e e int nd d to distribute it , aft r a : silent stress , thus

I J J‘ I '

Now it is obvious that no one but a hack composer of waltz tunes would tolerate such e e The e a p rv rsion . phrase cold gr y stones e e e t e r fuses to accommodat its lf to h lilt . Its po etic value is evidently that it e choes th e rhythm of the ﬁrst line ; and the three words will b e as nearly equal in time as thought can e e e make th m . Mor ov r, the words thy and e e e e O will r s nt , in such a grav lin , the e So w e are e scant measure allowed th m . driv n — back upon syncopation as the key to it some what thus

R ‘ i ‘ (J J fi. Ifi fi l fi fig l V On th c o re stones 0 sea y ld g y , 1 32

R O B E R T B R I D G E S ordination of soun ds are questions of time ; and it is re erence to the me sense to our un conscious by f ti , erce on of erio ci hat w e can row mos p pti p di ty , t th t i h on th ature of er r t The main l g t e n v se hy hm. nomena of the me sense in r a ion to s oun s ph e ti —el t d can b e b est investigated in music the art in which the rhythmic sense s how s itself in its most marked orm For th im or ant oint i th o f . e p t p s really e c i b w bar T is is n o in our ord nation of ar ith . h i v lved in stinctive an d almost unconscious length ening of certain w ord s (or our su pplementing themby p auses ) in ord er to satisfy the d eman d for the rhythmic u w n on b ar n r sen ses of eq ality b et ee e a d anothe .

One welcomes this recognition of a system of minute lengthenings and paus es as taking a e t e e larg part in h diction of po try . The weak ’ Ne point in Mr . wman s chain of reasoning is the failure to distinguish between the kind of rhythm we ﬁnd in poetry and the rhythm of e music . A philosophic d ﬁnition of rhythm , if e e one e we are ver to hav , may t ll us that the are e essentially two one . In practic they e one e e are as wid apart as can possibly conc iv . If music gives us the rhythmic sense in its e the most mark d form , rhythm of poetry is certainly the most subtle and even obscure . ” SO e e e Even simpl a phras as cold gr y stones , as soon as one thinks of it in terms of English poetry, acquires a rhythmic quality which no musical analogy will go the least way towards 1 34 T H E P R O S O D Y O F B R I D G E S

e t e xplaining . From h time when a Spondaic foot was admitted to a pentameter line to let in the common phras e of three adj acent e e str sses , it has b en accumulating and fixing its rhythm from the different circumstances of its use and from sources quite distinct the e from musical idea , until it challeng s any interference with its unanalysable mental e e T e e refinem nts of cadence and valu . h id al rhythmic value of any sp eech - phrase may e have had a casual and unsci ntific growth , but e e e e it is a very r al part of our po try . H nc e N e e wh n Mr . ewman distinguish s possibl po etic rhythms as falling into bars of either two or ’ ee e e thr not s value , and places ev n Miltonic e e e e v rs in the second class , I would chall ng his right to apply even the idea of musical e e rhythm to v rs . And in any case I cannot believe that Paradise Lost is written in waltz

time . But even if the associations of po etic rhythm were not so far removed from a musical e e e id a , I do not b li ve that a musical basis could b e appli ed to the making of poetry with e e the any succ ss . The mor subconscious craftsman is obsessed with the idea of a re

e - e e e curr nt bar b at , the less will tru po tic

b e e e e e . e rhythms fr e to assert th ms lv s Tru , the musical scheme may compromise to the 1 35 R O B E R T B R I D G E S extent of changing its bar - Signature for every few words ; and where music and words are e j oin d, as in the chanting of psalms , this is a method which gives many b eautiful and 1 e - natural ffects . But in present day music any rhythm is no rhythm and musical ideas must go a long way before they can leave off even e e wh re po try begins . A very little advance — along th es e lines will mean the abandonment

- e Mou ssor ski of bar marks altogether . Wh n g , S in one of his ongs of Childhood, marks successive bars

ew i i i f l i i l f l i l i i f l fr f l

e e e the gam is only b ginning . I suppos future song - writers will dispens e with the bar alto gether ; for as soon as music approaches e po try intimately it will have to go . Th ere is no technical difﬁculty whatever u that genius is not ready to master . J st as Wolf with the common apparatus of bars and time - Signatures moulded his notes almost e e MOrike miraculously to the d licat songs of , Bridges has made a temporal basis subserve e e as int nsely b autiful effects of poetry , no e e e e e po t has done b for , and non is lik ly, I The think , to do again . difﬁculty appears to be mainly this : that line - length and line

1 rid es himself has made e erimen in this di ti n B g xp ts rec o . 1 36

R O B E R T B R I D G E S

Such lines as

Eart is th c o erin to i e t ee the arment of t ee. h y v g h d h , g h Thou art swift and subtle and blind as a ﬂame of ﬁre B e ore t ee the au ter e in t ee the tears of esire f h l gh , b h d h d And twain o ort esi e t ee a man wit a mai g f h b d h , h d Her eyes are the eyes of a bride whomdelight makes a rai f d ,

are pretty bad judged by any standard of

. Set rhythm to music , with a drum beat to e e the e b e e mphasiz rhythm , th y would mor e e than intol rabl . Bridges ’ method is to avail himself of all

the e - fr edom which a stress prosody allows , and at the same time to mitigate with every

available device the anarchy to which it l eads . e he e the Bri ﬂy, abolish s syllabic strictness for sake of introducing n ew and expressive Speech e e rhythms , and Simultaneously r stor s the e e e e un el m nt of tim , leaving their fr shness e The e e e e impair d . whol of his achi v m nt in stress - prosody is to enforce the idea of regu larity in line - length while avoiding suggestion

e e - b e of a r curr nt bar eat . It is impossibl to ﬁnd a principle which applies to the whole of e his work in this manner . Ev ry line Shows its

praised for their rhythmical ﬂow shows also a greater misap rehension of the ual t es of stressed verse one chief advanta e p q i i , g h The constant of w ich is that no rhythmneed be ex actly repeated . repetition of the same stressed rhythmin every lin e must produce sin -son and it is a clums remed to brea the sin - son at the g g, y y k g g ” ost of the rosod c p y. 1 38 T H E P R O S O D Y O F B R I D G E S own device to escape from the double pitfall

e - the e e of str ss prosody, dil mma whos horns e the are music and pros . At a first glance prosody of the S horter P oems is not strikingly different from that of Maud . Critics who felt moved to approach it with the apparatus of classical terminology would find no great diffi culty in explaining it when they had once accustomed th ems elves to a pretty free use of the dact ae words y anap st , and galli ” The e ambie . other school could b at time to it without a more than usually painful violation

the e e e e . of d c nci s of Spe ch It has , no more e than Christab l , an unvarying number of e the stresses to the lin . But main point is that — intelligent readers of poetry who will probably — not analyse it at all find nothing in it that is not perfectly fit and rhythmically satisfying . On e can only suggest a few of the reasons ’ why Bridges essays in stress - verse are poetry although they have rather finally broken loose e e e from prosody . Analysis of po tic t chniqu can only b e useful in giving us a fairly expres Sible reason for not liking certain developments e of it . If the ear approv s such work as London S n ow Whi ther 0 s lendid shi or , p p and I suppos e th ey are now recognized as — being rhythmically quite flawless any other i e e justification s imp rtin nt . 1 39 R O B E R T B R I D G E S

Of the three principal devices which we ﬁnd e the e mor or less common in all poems , p rhaps the most Signiﬁcant is a very frequent us e of e e e e e e e lin s which , tak n alon , div rg v ry littl or not at all from the familiar p entameters of

e e The e er- b syllabic v rs . ﬁrst lin of A Pass y and these from the same poem

at earest nor sea risin nor sk c ou in . Th f g, y l d g

And anchor queen of the strange shipping there .

And et 0 s en i s i un ai e and name ess y , pl d d h p , h l d l

ort a s i a mi e Thy p s ured n happier land than n .

AS t ou as ant wit trimtac e and s rou in h , l , h kl h d g,

’ Fromthe rou nostri ur e of a row s ine p d l c v p l ,

e might , as far as form goes , have b en written e e the by Milton . Th ir coincidenc with old re form is more than casual . It is a kind of current suggestion of a stricter manner which e tends very strongly to appeas the ear . It un ﬂa in contributes , too , to the gg g variety of ’ rhythm which betrays Bridges hatred of any

- suggestion of sing song . Another effect of this manner is the very pleasing contrast with which it atones for and enhances the bolder rhythms of stress - prosody as insistence upon the idea e e S is of a recurr nt beat could nev r do . uch 1 40

R O B E R T B R I D G E S

’ The e of stress . best dev lopments of Bridges prosody have risen naturally from syllabic vers e in very much the same way as freedom S as of phrasing within the line . uch a stanza this

There shows no care in heaven to save ’ Man s iti ul atience n or ro i e p f p , p v d

e —in the e from the same mann r which t —mporal b eat gives perfect justice of phrasing leads naturally to that in which phrasing is counter pointed upon a syllabic structure

While ever across the path mazily ﬂit The dreamy butterﬂi es Wit azz in co ours ow ere and so t looms h d l g l p d d f g , W and m n n hite black cri so stri es a d eacock e es . , p , p y

On e cannot leave this point without reference to the work of a man whose name is still quite the unknown , and bulk of whose poetry has e e The e Ge n ver been publish d . lat rard

S . J . e e Hopkins , , was a writ r with a very r al e e e e e po tic gift , whos m tres w r consciously e e laborat d from common syllabic types . We have no record of th e theory upon which he e e e e e e worked , but I b li v som id a of str ss e e equivalence form d part of it . A gr at deal of his work w as SO obscure both in metre and diction that there is little chance of its ever e b ecoming popular . I quote one very b autiful 1 42 T H E P R O S O D Y O F B R I D G E S sonnet to illustrate a quite remarkable similarity between his prosody in its simpler e form and that of Bridges , which sugg sts that he had attained by exp eriment the same com e e promise betwe n stress and syllabic v rse . It he will make it fairly obvious , too , that was not merely a craftsman .

Loo at the stars oo oo u at the s ies k l k, l k p k 0 look at all the fire folk Sitting in the air The b ri t orou s the ui erin cita e s t ere gh b gh , q v g d l h The dimwoods quick with diamond wells the elf- eyes The grey lawns cold where quaking gold - dew lies Wind - beat white- beam airy abeles all on fire Flake- doves sent floating out at a farmyard s care Ah e rize we it is a urc as and a . , ll p h p

B u t en B id t en —W at —P ra er atience a ms y h h h y , p , l , ows v ,

Loo oo a Ma - mess li e on orc ar ou s k, l k y , k h d b gh

Loo ' Marc - oom i e on mea e - wit - e ow k h bl , l k l d h y ll sa ows ll , These are indeed the barn within - doors house

T e S is iece- ri t a in i es the S ouse h hocks . Th p b gh p l g h d p C rist and the Mot er of C rist and all his a lows h , h h , h l .

’ the e e e But chief el m nt in Bridg s prosody , e e e e which mak s a g n ral summary impossibl , e e e e e is a v ry d licat s ns of quantity . It is not e e e r duc d to any syst m , but it may be found e e th e e almost anywh r through S horter Po ms . It is a s ens e not only of what may b e legiti e e the e e mat ly born by a stress , but pr cis time 1 43 R O B E R T B R I D G E S

- e t e value of each Speech phras in h line . It is obvious from the ﬁrst that a really considered prosody of stress cannot afford to neglect e ec quantity . I think it is an instinctiv r og nition of this point which allows one to describe ’ much of Bridges more advanced verse as e having prosody in spite of its fr edom . He e the f e r cognizes , for instance , dif erenc in value between a stressed long vowel and a stressed e Short vow l . In such lines as this , from L ondon S n ow — The eye marvelled marvelled at the dazzlin g whiteness The ear ear ene to the sti ness of the so emn air h k d ll l ,

e e th r is , if I am not mistaken , a very clear

the e - e e sense of tim valu of very syllable . e e e e e By m ans of thes thr e d vic s , or rather e e e e instinctiv adjustm nts , he has mad it possibl to free English verse from the trammels of the e e he syllabic lin . P rhaps , as suggests , not the least advantage of his m ethod is that it makes e e e e Ne e xc ll nc difﬁcult . v r has any method demanded such a p erfect s ense of the material e e value of words and phras s . A po t who attempte d to build up such a prosody according

e e . e to rul would c rtainly fail Its richn ss is , e e e th e as it wer , only a singl fac t of many e e is sided j ewel of his vers . At its dull st it e too complex to be anything but spontan ous .

1 44

R O B E R T B R I D G E S

L The Chris ti an C a tives atin manner p , Achilles in S cyros 1 and The Return of Ulysses ” are in a mixed manner ; while P ali ci o is e e the e e labell d Elizab than . In app ndic s to these plays Bridges has acknowledged his indebtedness to oth er dramatists from Menander to Calderon and for this reason it is only by the conventions of thes e manners that he e can b e fairly judg d . In the maj ority of the Bridges ’ plays drama e resolves its lf into a string of situations , e e l passionat , intell ctua , or fantastic , in which e e e pupp ts , ntangl d almost beyond hope in the ’ e e e dramatist s own laborat snar s , gradually ’ e e ee —b shake thems lv s fr , y the dramatist s e permission . It impli s a convention that holds dramatic dignity inconsistent with an every e So e e day s tting ; that v ry drama is in Spirit , e e the if not in fact , a costum play . I suppos idea of Drama as a thing transcending every e e or day xperi nce , at least as only symbolical e e of such xperience , was adopt d with the e ee e e e e int ntion of k ping its po try unf tt r d , and in this tradition Bridges has only followed t e e h lead of such writers as Byron , T nnyson , S e e Browning , winburn and Morris . Inde d , it is strange that Drama Should have gained so

1 I have thought it best to treat Achilles in company with the a other M sks . 1 46 T H E D R A M A S little from the concentration of these poetical e w e e int lligences upon it , and that Should hav needed to wait till the twenti eth century for the S poetical drama which ynge found , not e e among th ir stat ly abstractions , but among t e e e the peasantry of h Arans . The s cr t of a living drama is to strike a just balance between the the e The e e action and id a . po ts in th ir disgust with the wooden materialism of drama as they found it tried to coax it into life by e the imaginative ﬂights , and fail d because e e e e e oth r ssential was negl cted . Bridg s , labor ately scheming to cover the old stage carp entry e with a gloss of poetic richness , has fail d for a Slightly different reason :because his plays ee e the e have b n a loos mixture of two lements , lacking that intense heat of conception Which e fuses both into the imperishabl alloy . At the same time I do not believe that Bridges would have chosen the newer modes even if he had been writing plays in the ﬂush e e of the dramatic r vival . To make it cl ar

e e . where we stand , I quot a passag from Mr ’

. e e P P . How s able monograph on Syng . He sums up a s ermon on the misuse of the word dramatic thus

To come to e and hus to the hea re with lif , t t t , easure and e c tement is of the essence of the pl x i , mak n of rama I oetr b emot on re em ere i g d . f p y e i m b d 1 47 R O B E R T B R I D G E S

in ran ui l as Wor swor h sa the drama is t q l ity , d t id , , or mus seem to b e emo ion su a ized in ac ion t , t vi l t , ho e er ran ui t mo o t r ma s w v t q l he after od f he d a ti t .

Now e to Bridg s , drama obviously means l nothing of the sort . In near y all t—hese plays one finds the expression of emotion which in the the e end amo—unts to influ nce of character upon action the means rather than the en d e e of drama . Charact rization does not figur in the scheme of the play as by inalienable birth right but by courtesy ; and when it reveals its elf it is some times even disconcerting to the precise figures which the author is putting e e through th ir pac s . It is as though a mario e e n tt Should suddenly come to life , like the e e e pupp ts in P trouchka , and with som thing of th e same horror on e trembles lest more than

sawdust Should be Spilt . the D S horter oems In ramas , as in the P and the S onnets , he Shows a fastidious choice of e mat rial . I do not think he could ever have found the exploits of a character so Shameless e as Christy Mahon , ﬁt subj ct for drama, any t e an S e more than h sorrows of N . uch charact rs and such emotions fall outside his conception e of the dignity of po try , and this I imagine to be an almost insuperable bar to his success as e e a dramatist , whos busin ss , in whatever he b e is manner may writing , to come to 1 48

R O B E R T B R I D G E S

He even endeavours to justify it on a philo sophical basis

The phi losophic mind Can take no middle ways She will not leave her love To mix wit men her art h , I s all to strive above

The crow or stan a art . d, d p

AS Wintr Deli hts again , in y g , he speaks of ’ the sacred aloofness from life s meagre f e e e is af airs which the l ct nj oy . But this e not the Spirit in which Drama is writt n . It implies an unsympathetic attitude towards e D the struggl s out of which rama arises , and an incomplete understanding of those who breathe an atmosphere differently composed e from that of his own gold n clime . You can see that he is genuinely sorry for e the K ats social condition of his parents , he e says , probably xcluded him from contact No is e with the best types . doubt this perf ctly ’ true ; but it almost seems as if this critic s e e e e e pl asant unhind r d ord r of lif , his happy e nchantments of fortune , easy surroundings , ” courteous acquaintance , have excluded him from contact with any but the best . And it e takes all types to mak a theatre . I have already attributed to him an aristocracy of the manners , and obligations of such nobility 1 50 T H E D R A M A S

leave him uncomfortable in the treatment of e e The e unsympath tic charact rs . s rvants in the third act of Humours of the C ourt Show

him at his worst . In view of this it is fortunate that he has written two essays with indirect b earing on drama which help us to understand his th eori es of dramatic propriety and compare e The e w e them with his practic . K ats essay have already considered and may now dismiss with the mention of one characteristic pro ” “ m t he the n oun ce en . Keats , says , lacks the ess ential moral grasp for drama . But essay on Shakespeare calls for clos er examina The e the tion . main id a of work is to Show that Shakesp eare was all things to all men that the title As You Like It might have b een t e made a motto for h bulk of his work . I do ee e not think this point had b n amplifi d before , e he and as a fact it is indisputabl . But goes on to separate th e matter that most offends ’ my Simple feelings in Shakespeare s plays . e e the After r buking him for his bad j ok s , and mere verbal trifling which was aimed at a part of his audience with which we are ” e he e e e littl in sympathy , r fl cts s riously and ’ at length on Shakespeare s indelicacy

The au is oun chieﬂ he sa s in the ear ier f lt f d y [ y ', l a s and the istor is enera ree romit but pl y , h y g lly f f , 1 5 1 R O B E R T B R I D G E S the women are ain e and is se om en re t t d , it ld ti ly a s n I t canno w c n for an b e t . t be holly ac ou ted by y theory that does not involve the supp osition that he was making concession s to the most vulgar stratum of his au ience and had ac uire the ha i of so d , q d b t doin and his su osit on is con rme the g, t pp i ﬁ d by s eech of Hamle to the a ers where Sha es eare p t pl y , k p ’ s u w ha p t his o n criticisminto Hamlet s mouth .

Now it s eems to me that there is another theory by which the grossness of Shakespeare b e e e can account d for, and by which , if it wer

e e b e e e e . for a moment n c ssary , it might d f nd d ’ For even admitting that some of Shakespeare s clowning scenes are foolish that his brutality e e e is a survival out of dark r ag s , his l wdness ﬂung contemptuously at an audience of e ee lack ys , without these things we Should f l that he had lost something of breadth and e S e e univ rsality . om peopl might possibly respect him more many would certainly e e we e e love him l ss . Alr ady hav a whol gallery full of Hamlets but there is only on e f the Falsta f, and worth of Falstaff is not ’ S e e e purely dramatic . Without hak sp ar s catholicity of feeling for mankind in its the e the soarings of Spirit , its xaltations of e e e e ﬂ sh , its grossness and its Spl ndour , th r ’ would b e little truth in Bridges own happy account of the matter 1 52

R O B E R T B R I D G E S

(except the ﬁrst part of Nero) are intended for the stage ; but I very much doubt if any of e e the th m would act, unless it wer perhaps Terentian Feas t of B acchus and the Christi an C a ptives . This play seems worth a more detailed e analysis than the rest , becaus it offers a little e more characterization than usual , and ven rises at times to a ﬂicker of dramatic intensity . ’ The story is derived from Calderon s El The Principe Constante . scene of the play is a e the the s ea castl of King of Fez , near to , now in the occupation of the Moorish troops who are engaged in a Spanish campaign ; and to this place the King has summoned his daughter e ne e— Alm h . He is a man with o aim in lif the recapture of the city of Ceuta , lost to the Christians in the days of his fathers and now e e the priz se ms almost within his grasp , for e are e the Portugues forces d pleted , his army e e is at the h ight of strength and nthusiasm , and he only needs the h elp of the Moroccan e e e Tarudante cavalry , und r th ir princ , to e e Al he fe assur succ ss . meh , whom of rs to Taru nte e da . in marriag , is his highest card ” me he Win Ceuta back , says ,

And drive the idolaters across the sea

Ere thou take home my daughter for thy queen . 1 54 T H E D R A M A S

e e e Al e Into this peac ful garden , wh r m h has lately been enchanted by the Singing of a S company of Christian prisoners , comes ala ’ b en S ez S e e e ala , F gr at st gen ral , a man of the chivalry and courage , and devoted to He e princess . has escaped alon from the e e e e un xp ct d d feat of the Moorish forces , and the e e that only by clem ncy of F rdinand , ” e his angel fairn ss .

T m to t m — —he oon he That was our peril the accursed yellow moon E ose our cam w i e in the s a ow ens xp d p , h l h d y gl

The night hid their attack .

e S e Almeh , alon with ala , pl ads for the Christian captives who have taken h er fancy She weighs their freedom against th e clem ency of e She e F rdinand . tells him how She has h ard e th ir hymns .

’ ME was as i t a s I a w A . t n S a a l on a a e L H T l gh , l , y l g k Dreami ear enin to the ocean murmur ly h k g , So ter t an si ence on mine ears t ere sto e f h l , h l A solemn sound of wailful harmony So beautiful it w as that ﬁrst I thought i s cast e was enc ante as I a e rea Th l h d , h v d ’ I n eastern tales or else that twas the song eo e of t i s an who ma e the sea Of p pl h l d , k eir secret od an d at mi ni t arise Th g , d gh To nee u on the s ore and his i init k l p h , d v y B eseech with shrillin g prayer or then it seemed A liquid voiced choir of spirits that swam U on the ocean sur ace ar in band p f , h p , 1 55 R O B E R T B R I D G E S

Swelling their hymns with his deep undersong . at was the C ristian ca ti es Th h p v , ’ S was the ni t ALA . T gh Softened their wails to sweetness as the Space ’ Twixt hell and heaven makes the cries of the damned

Music to the angels .

Even as Sala yields he sees the portrait of Tarudante the e that King has l ft , and is caught e up in a storm of j alousy . The s econd act introduces the captives them e e e a s lves . Th y app ar as chorus , at ﬁrst ” the e e Singing hymn J su dulcis m moria , e e and later Sp aking with Alm h , explaining to ” - her the art of their many voiced skill . u se the This of chorus in an historical play , in which they do not function as a commentary e but actually as p rsons of the drama, is fatal e to illusion and wh n , at the sound of Moorish e e e drums and trump ts , Alm h t lls them to go , e e and th y r ply , presumably in unison ,

We will depart and mourn Wit in our su tr it h l y p , the e e e e the O the d vic v rg s on ludicrous . n e the e stag , I doubt if play could possibly surviv t e h longueurs of this act . ’ The Tarudante s Moors , with aid , have e t e e e turn d h tables . Th y r turn proudly with the Christian leaders , whom they have taken 1 56

R O B E R T B R I D G E S

the surrender of Ceuta end of their exile , and beg Ferdinand to yi eld for th eir sake as for his e e own . I conf ss it is rath r dull reading there is no getting beyond the inhumanity of

S e e . this chorus . till th re are memorable lin s Ferdinand ’ s Hath not Ceuta ’ Been as C rist s tourne w ere the nations h y, h Have clapped their hands to see a few brave knights Ho A rica at b a ld f y , and the effective line in which he describes ’ Tarudante s army , with a Miltonic inverted ﬁfth foot I was here ; I had come E en to t is cast e w en e o swarmin v h l , h b h ld, g Innumerable fromthe hills around s me M The hor e n of orocco. There is a nice sense of the value of place ’ e names in the chorus s Sp ech .

Na we remem er we y , b ll Estramadura we remem er a us , b T g , The an s of Gua iana and our omes b k d , h Amon the ine ar s Ezla we remem er g v y d b , i os and A en uer w ere the trees Ob d l q , h S a ow the i a e ste s and on the S o es h d v ll g p , l p Our garden s bloom where old Montego laves ’ The erti e al e s mon the i l s i f l v l y g h l of Be ra .

And there is little more in the love - passage between Almeh and Ferdinand :love with a salting of proselytizing . 1 58 T H E D R A M A S

But the third act opens with one of those lyrical intermezzi that so often astound e the on e in r ading Bridges plays . This time it is Almeh who Speaks

O e icate air in itin d l , v g The irt of the sun to ﬁre b h , The heavy glooms of the sea with silver laughter ; Ye sleepy ﬂowers that tire I n me tin reams of the da l g d y, To S en our isre ar u wit s ot awa in pl d d g df l , h l h k g Re oice re oice a wa j , j , l y ; B ut why are ye taking M sou to o ow ou a ter y l f ll y f , To awa e wit ou and b e o fu in our e i tin k h y , j y l y d l gh g Ay me

And it is followed by one of those ﬂow er songs which we have grown to expect ; this time the ﬂower is familiar ; none other than 1 sea - e the already loved poppy . Alm h sends e her maid to pick these yellow ros s and , She e in another love scene , begs F rdinand , e e once mor , to surr nder Ceuta for the sake of his Tarudante companions and himself . , ’ rather bored by the delay and Almeh s inclina e e tion for F rdinand , decid s to leave the army S e and ala , overwhelm d by j ealousy, proposes el e to risk r easing Ferdinand . He rev als his

1 Or erha s the ellow- ﬂowered ice lant which is common on p p y p , the North Africa c a n o st. 1 59 R O B E R T B R I D G E S l has ove for Almeh , telling how he watched her from her childhood, and seen

From ein a c i su en She was a woman b g h ld , dd ly C an e e on o e to me ast o e unc an e h g d b y d h p , p h p h g d ,

—a pretty Elizabethanism . When Ferdinand persists in his determination to stay with his e e e fellow prisoners , the g neral ev n threat ns to he kill him if will not go . And when the King , ’ S ’ worried by Almeh s disaffection , and on ala s advice , consents to release all the captives , the e l princ included , on the day when She Sha l wed

Morocco Canst thou not thank me , and e Tarudante 9 — e smil on Alm h , to save e Ferdinand , consents in four expr ssive lines

I t an t ee Sire . h k h , ’ I I seeme to not t an t ee twas the e fect f d h k h , f

su enness not in but su enness . Of dd , h g dd m i I a glad to do t .

When she tells the prince the cost at which his freedom is purchased we have another courtly declaration of love , another courtly answer . How canst thou love and fear says Ferdinand .

See I can teac t ee how to trust in o e , h h l v , t s Now with his kis . Enter I N TARUDANTE and SALA K G, , .

N ll Tarudante atura y, no longer wishes to stay 1 60

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The esture of th ein all th motions v y b g y , ou ts an d ima inations th esires Th gh , g , y d , ’ Fan cies an d dreams whate er fromday to day ’ ou art an d call st t se w at is it all Th , hy lf, h B ut art of me Art t ou the eauteous ranc p h b b h, I amthe gnarled trun k that bore and bears thee T al t mnt he root that feeds . I c l hee not to j udg e n to sa e w at most I rize th name O ly v h p , y , ’ And min e there s one way that can b e Morocco Hath taken his leave b efore he l eave must thou B e himto see th in ur a en e g y j y v g d , ’ And for thy honour s sake must on thy knees Bid m re n it I on the same da e ve ge . f y The C ristian rince insu te t ee he die h p l d h , And die at th re uest e ore the e es y q , b f y at s aw th S ame ere us ton ues can te Th y h , b y g ll A ta e in the ear suc S ee en a t l , h p dy p l y Wi l ri t the scan a to a ta e of terror l f gh d l l , n V ithal he is a rince A d sa e our n ame . V v p , l e And that a prince Should die may wel aton . W at sa est t ou c i h y h , h ld

Bid me not speak . Thy tears

And so s I cann t rea I bid t ee s ea . b o d . h p k A ME 0 at er L H . f h S ea KING . p k

h w r s . A ME . wor s reca t o L H Thy d , ll y d at or s KING . Wh w d

wor s of oo . ALME H . Thy d bl d A A me A me IN . K G h, l h l h Art thou my daughter i m nees A ME . s re on L H O , y k

I b eg. We w at ll , h His life his life 1 62 T H E D R A M A S

SO e And , persuasion failing , he dismisses Alm h , l S e e and ca ling ala , d cr es a death by starvation to Ferdinand Let not his life t ra t re B t ar : in s ite Ou d g h e days . u h k p en eance v g , And in remem rance of his c aimon t ee b l h , He ma o uit u on the old c on ition y g q p d , — Ceuta thou understandest

’ e Almeh determines to share her lover s fat . She e her Z let att mpts , through maid apel , to Z e Ferdinand know what she is doing . ap l the e S gives lett r to ala , who clumsily allows it ’ is to fall into the King s hands . The King moved How would my crown ’ Shine mon g the blessed caliphs and the martyrs Who fell in ﬁght upon the road of God How wou t e oo u on me ld h y l k p , ’ I mon the moon - ri t s cimitars I came f g b gh , ’ M c i s loo on m ea an d She n ot t ere y h ld b d y h d h , The air ower of m i e the ir of race f ﬂ y l f , b d g , Which my long - withering and widowed tree Hel to the ace of ea en d f h v , Now frommy own trunk b e my own han ds torn ’ B etter the bole b e split heaven s lightning rend me

m t ust not die . A curses seize me. A e ou m ll l h, h

A herald from Portugal conﬁrms his melting mood . Edward , the king , is dead , and

Ferdinand now is regent of Portugal . The 1 63 R O B E R T B R I D G E S prospect of a possible alliance cheers him he ee e He e s s C uta within his grasp . s nds for e e e F rdinand, who comes upborn betw en two e e Sit e e Moorish soldi rs . Th y tog th r , alone on the e e dark ning stage , whil the King gives him ’ e e e Almeh s lett r, t lls him of his own succ ssion to power and tri es to coax the Shadow of a man t e e e back to h will to live . He ven off rs him ’ e Alm h s hand .

E RD W at ear Wou st t ou t en F . h h I ld h h Have given me in good faith Almeh to wife

(M akes motions towards food. )

I . An wi . i N d A r n . K G ll y, d k ‘ E RD An Ceut 2 F . d a

I N . at is mine K G Th , H r i e pr ce. E h n n e r F RD. t rusti thi s romhim. A n e . ( g g f ) h , v D st t t e se KING . o hou h n refu FE D It eere eat t s n m ast reat t s . R . ch th d h o pe d y l b h hu ’ IN Sittest t ou t ere a ance twi t eat and i e K G . h h , b l d x d h l f Dainti ma in c oice and to m o er ly k g h , y ff all t at God cou rant t ee i e and o e Of h ld g h , l f l v , Wrun romme m sorrow to m S ame g f by y , y h P referrest the C ristian e O In e h h ll ﬁd l , A ostatizin do est now th mout p g g, l y h Should ﬁnd the p ower to grasp one broken speech trium o er me die at m an Of ph v , y h d . ’ Deat s a not rob me of th oo t at s e t h h ll y bl d h l f ,

E (Stabs F RDIN AND across the table. )

us let th rot er ﬁn d t ee if I ai Th y b h h , f l To sen hima so t it er w ere t ou oest d l h h , h h g , To t e i r s t i in sires hin dolat ou and h ev g . 1 64

R O B E R T B R I D G E S

e To make r newal of its j aded life . ’ B reat e reat e Tis run en wit the sto en h , b h d k h l scents Of sleeping pinks faint with quick kisses snatc hed Fromroses t at in crow s of so test snow , h d f

Dreamof the moon upon their blanched bowers .

I rin I rin . d k , d k

Z PE . I t ou wi t tarr ere A L f h l y h ,

Let me go fetch thy cloak . ere is m at er ALME H . Wh y f h H i i t PE . s t ZA L e no n the cas le . W is a ALME H . here Sal t wi I mus speak th him. a e t a i ZA PE L . They r bo h s ll ed forth

To assault the Christian camp . ’ ME 0 t en twas true AL H . h ’ The noise I ear e are tin twas the h d . Th y ﬁgh g uns g , ’ S t I I u t twas i r t o n m ea s . The hou s heard . h gh y

- I a e had stran e V isions Za e t ese ast h v g , p l , h l days ’ Twere past belief what I have seen and heard . ’ I te t ee somew at w en I a e time—O o e ll ll h h h h v l v , I t ou wou st b e m muse f h ld y , I would enchant the sun And stea the si en ues l lk h , Whereof his light is spun And fromthe whispering way Of the high - arching air Look with the dawn of day U on the c untri s ai p o e f r. ee I wil etc th oa Em S l f h y cl k . ( it ) This I S the reason ’ Wh a s so uiet . Sweet eace t ou ost lie . y ll q p , h d 1 66 T H E D R A M A S

Men stea ort silent to i l t e cree l f h ly k l h y p , at t e ma s rin to ur Who w ou Th h y y p g m der. ld thi n k , Gazin on t is air ar en as it iet g h f g d , l h Lulled by the moonlight and the solemn music Ma e e er astin the ra e sea d v l gly by g v , ’ at twas a e of V i ain a un eon Th h ll ll y, d g

eat t Deat . Of d h o its possessors . h

’ B ut e the a e Enrique s speech , which clos s tr g dy , is a thoroughly consistent piece of the Bridges

390 9 . I have treated this play at some length e e becaus , in Spit of the dignity and colour of the diction and the fact that the lyrical out are e e ee bursts h re mor in k ping than usual , I feel that undue praise has been given to the e e construction of th s dramas , of which it is the e t e e th e b s . The constant exig nci s of scene at faire the e e e e See ; thr adbar d vic s , he comes by which the characters are brought on to the stage ; the loos e mingling of colloquialisms food and an hour of rest will make me ﬁt with the h eavy mann er all th ese things are fatal to dramatic illusion “ ” in whatever manner a play b e written . e e e the e H r , as in the r st , charact rization is e e e e e e e l m ntary, xc pt p rhaps in the cas of S the are ala and King , who , after all , not of a e e e the v ry complicat d p rsonality . Even ﬁnal gri ef of Almeh is conventional in colour . 1 67 R O B E R T B R I D G E S

There is only one thing for which these plays e the cannot be disregard d , and that is really one beautiful poetry which smiles at , from e e time to time , through th ir coldness , lik a e ﬂow r pushed through snow . P ali ci o the e , Elizab than romantic drama , is taken from Sicilian history of the years 1 500 about , and Bridges also makes acknow ledgment to de Stendhal for some of his

The ﬂower- incident . beautiful song from the fourth act I have already quoted in another place ; and this is only one of many poetical e e is beauties . In the ﬁrst sc n of all there a memorable description of Palermo—and one e that sugg sts oth er cities of which we know .

Your city A roac e sea or romthe roo s sur e e pp h d by , f f v y d Smi es ac u on the azer i e a ueen l b k p g , l k q at er r i Th hears h p a se .

e And again , this charming atmosphere of arly morning

How res t e ow th i f h he morning air is . S e h e mst Me ts in th a w i e sun nd hi e we oo s one . l , l l k g Leisurely gathered on hi s sloping b eams

And uar e her an e - towers the cit g d d by g l , y S ee s i e an is an in so ra l p l k l d the lemn g y . ’ Tis b eauteous

’ And again , Margaret s song of joy in the third act 1 68

R O B E R T B R I D G E S when P alicio addresses his comic - opera brigands

za ' ALL. Huzzah ' Huz h A C m P LI I O. an ou men Th k y , y or this gem of poetical drama

M R Ma I See Constance A GARE T. y

Ro At ce but co e re ar t d her wea . sso. on m e o ﬁn , p p d k

For the Humours of the C ourt there is even The less to be said . court is of the kind which ’ S e one ﬁnds in hak speare s comedies , but much more polite ; and the bulk of the humour is We unconscious . have a great many of the stock devices of comedy introduced with a naivete e disarming changed names , and ev n changed hats ; a heap of the weak j okes for which Shakespeare had been s o solemnly e rebuked . I suppose the great st failure of all T e e e to be ristram , vid ntly int nded for a comic D e fellow ; and when iana, in the s cond act , declares that he is profoundly dull we is e uncon wonder if the humour , aft r all , as w as e e St . scious at ﬁrst had imagin d . Nicholas is a gentleman who has been to school ’ Don L L L with Adriano in ove s abour ost, and e Sir G e t e e . h l arnt next to nothing r gory , d af

- major domo , is fairly successful as a type ; ’ but it is unfortunate for Diana s credit as a e e he l e h roin that s Shou d hav ﬁts . 170 T H E D R A M A S

I T has to be confessed that , apart from Achilles , which I have considered as belonging to the the e masks , only Bridg s play that would “ ” i act even passably s a translation . In stage - craft the Feas t of B acchus is a decided improvement on the Heautontimoreumenos from which most of it is faithfully taken . In e the original we find the in vitable prolixity , and a tangle of plots under which a modern The Feas t audience would grow very restive . o B acchus f is , as a matter of fact , nearly Six r e hund ed lines long r than its model , if one excludes the Prologue but it has less difficult ground to cover . The s election and modification of material is in some ways characteristic of Bridges . The — play is quite Terentian in atmosphere indeed one is surprised to find that only one - sixth of the Latin original remains . The result is a Terence who could be introduced into almost

r - s o any d awing room , thoroughly has he been e e e xpurgat d and polish d . And yet the thing 1 71 R O B E R T B R I DG E S

’ u remains Terentian . Bridges geni s for imita tion , which I have had occasion to notice its before , Shows itself at strongest in this piece e of work . H re we have a Terentian play without the two or three lewd and scurrilous S laves , with only one lady of doubtful virtue , and with characters who are at the same time

boisterous and gentlemanly . Bridges had very properly pointed out that he has a right to take what liberties he pleases with an author who possibly changed his original out e of all r cognition . We can only guess how far ’ Terence s excell ent Adj usted folds betray How once Menan er went d .

I do not wish to labour the point , but it seems to me that the Athens of the New Comedy would hardly have been satisﬁed with any thing so innocuous and un - Bacchic as the d di M e an der Feast of B acchus . The imi atus n e would not, one imagin s , deliberately coarsen e e his original . It is likely that M nand r was as e every bit coarse as Terence . In ex rcising e e a strict c nsorship over the original , Bridg s has lost us a good deal that is characteristic and almost necessary to appreciation of the work , something vigorous and satyric , the t harshness of he Violent wines of the south . 1 72

R O B E R T B R I D G E S would be unpres entable to a Christian audi ’ e e e nc . But one s sympathy for the charact rs e in a Terentian play is not , as a rule , v ry

e . e e e e liv ly Aft r all , th y are g n rally puppets e (and heathen pupp ts at that) , and one is more tempted to j oin in the Shout of derision that one imagines Spreading through the Roman audience when one of them is made to look ridiculous than to Shed gentle tears e ov r his misfortunes .

And yet the play is Terentian . I have found little except the passages that are marked as translations that I could persuade myself e Yet might have be n written by Terence . something of the vigour and the ecstasy ’ the remains , in spite of author s own admission e e e e that this atmosph r does not pl as him .

Again , if one forgets Terence , the play would make a very pleasant comedy for amateur the acting . It runs pretty smoothly from e l ﬁrst scene to the last . There is a gr at dea e the le of verbiag , and plot is a little feeb e from a mod rn standpoint , but a clever actor could put a good deal of humour into most of the ’ parts . I am afraid Caesar s judgment of Terence could be equally well applied to Bridges

Levibus atque utin amscriptis adiuncta foret vis comi ca ut e uato virtus ollere ho , q p t n ore cumGreecis neve hac d s ec e tus ar e i ac r s . , p p t e e 1 74 T H E D R A M A S

There is a certain amount of unexpressed e e e humour, howev r , esp cially in the charact r ’ Men edemus e e e of , who quit ngag s one s sym H e The pathy . has a charming Simplicity . e t e e The r st of h charact rs do not live . young ’ men are no more convincing than Terence s ; P hilolaches is exaggerated B acchiS whose ” e the e badn ss , author t lls us , still weights — the play has the merit of being obviously painted . Her name has been changed to G orgo . Perhaps the real charm of the play is the delightful metre in which it is written through The it e out . author describes as a lin of six e stresses , written according to rul s of English ” U e e e e rhythm . nfortunat ly th r are no rul s e of English rhythm . Roughly , howev r , the metre follows the rules suggested for lighter ’ English stress - verse in an appendix to M ilton s d e e e S ros o . P y, which I hav alr ady quot d ome e The e tim s a stress is distributed . op ning Chremes e speech of , which forms the b ginning e of the Ter nce play , but is delayed in this e e e e v rsion , giv s an exc ll nt idea of it . A e the natural mphasizing of the sense , author

e e . t lls us , giv s all the rhythm that is intended

Menedemus a t ou our ac u intance has een but , l h gh q a b short And on ates romthe da o t t is iece of an ly d f y y u bough h p l d , 1 75 R O B E R T B R I D G E S

And came to live close by me for little or nought but that ccasione it as ou now et m res ect for ou O d , y k y y p y , Or e se our ein a n ei our for t at itse I ta e it l y b g ghb , h lf, k , Counts in some sort as rien shi ma es me o and ree f d p, k b ld f To i e ou a iece of a ice the act is ou seemto me g v y p dv f , y To be wor in ere in a manner w ic ot to our time k g h h h, b h y of life ’ And station i it e W t i H en s name s most unsu a . a n ea , bl h , v , Can b e your obj ect What do you drive at To guess your age ’ You are si t e rs east ere s no one erea outs x y y a at l . Th h b Can s ow a etter arm nor more ser ants u on it h b f , v p A d et n ou do the wor ourse as t ou ou had none . y y k y lf, h gh y Ne er do I o out owe er ear in the mornin v g , h v ly g, Ne er come ome a ain owe er ate at ni t v h g , h v l gh , B ut ere I see ou i in oein or at all e ents h y d gg g, h g, v oi i o r e er a moment T l ng at something or other. Y u a e n v i le d , ’ Or s ew re ar f r o rs Now all t is can t be one h g d o y u elf . h d For easure t at I amsure of and as for an ro t pl , h , y p ﬁ , Wh if ou onl a ie a the ener y , y y ppl d h lf gy To stirrin u our ser ants ot ou and our arm g p y v , b h y y f Wou m c ld do u h better.

For the wiles of the two slaves we have a e e e e P hilolaches he sch m , inv nt d by , in which and P amphilu s disguis e thems elves as Persians and try to extract money from Chremes by e pretending to bring n ws of Clinia . The scene contains some delightfully sonorous lines

e e . of mock P rsian , and a good d al of humour ’ On e e Chreme s appreciat s , too , summing up of Attic comedy in the fourth act 1 76

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- u counter intrig es . The story does not gain a glimmer of effectiveness in dramatic form . We have not the sense of savage irony that seems to underlie the suave conversation of the Corinthian proconsul and his friends in ’ ’ Anatole France s wonderful story . Bridges Ne b e ro is not subtle enough to convincing , and the irony is laid on with a very heavy d e e hand . The ramatic qualiti s oth r than scenic in which we are told the work is an e e e exercise , are , we suppose , just th s att mpts at suggestiveness B ut when Bridges is is suggestive , we know precisely what he e sugg sting . If the phrase is admissible , his hints contract the attention where those of

M . France expand it . The second part of Nero is comparatively e successful . It has colour and mov ment , S is and even characterization . eneca the

S e he . en ca we know, but is carefully drawn Nero ’ s portrait of himself is the best thing in the play

I now t at t ere is no man in the wor k h h ld , Nor e er was but at hi s ﬂaw I n some v , h h ’ Tis a ou ot t at in the e e of nature f l bl , h y Stands out unpardonable and unredeemed ’ B all the sc oo of irtues howsoe er y h l v , They dance in grace around it I n another ’ Tis i e a eaut - mar a starr mole l k b y k, y ’ Which on a Virgin s body but sets off 1 78 T H E D R A M A S

The azz in es t at e se were sel - e tin uis e d l g fl h , h l f x g h d B its own airnes s—Yet t ese ec s and aws y f by h fl k fl , ’ ’ W ate er t e b e tis ate t at men al h h y , f d h f l And t us ma I na must un ess in time h y , y l

I ee oo warnin for m au t is ross . h d g d g, y f l g I amo er en r sa it I now it v g e ous yes ye y k . at is m ﬂaw Th y .

The least considerable of the plays is The R eturn o Ul sses . f y If I were to criticize it , it would only b e to rep eat my reasons for con ’ demning so much of the rest of Bridges

dramatic work . I wish I could agree with Dr e e . Warren that it giv s us at last an ad quate e e dramatic setting of the Hom ric story . P rson ally I woul d rather read the translation of e L Butch r and ang . I have searched vainly through the play for a Single passage that e me e e se ms to r ally worth quoting , ither for its e e dramatic m rit or as po try . Even the e e e blank vers is l ss skilfully handl d than usual . ’ Even the lyric Happy are the Earth s h eirs on e e e has no lustre . In or two plac s the aff cted archaism of the language is not only ugly but

impossible .

1 79 C L A S S I C I S M

I N an earlier chapter I have tri ed to Show the e that method of Bridg s is , by his own

deﬁnition , classic rather than romantic ; but there is a very considerable legend that has e e mark d him down as a classical r vivalist , a man who has squandered his powers in elaborate imitation and this legend has grown Side by Side with that other which pictures him a mere e e r e xperim nte , howev r brilliant , in the aridities ‘ e e 7 of techniqu . What could be mor natural Did not Horace keep his vintage nine years by — him 9 are not the titles of the plays and of s et Achilles i n S c ros Eros an d the of masks y , s che Demeter rometheus e P y , , and P , evidenc

- s a Ex eriments enough , to y nothing of the p in Classi cal rosod ' e P y Ind ed , the j ournalists have managed to make a very plausible case for this heresy out of his titles and from the names of his characters though it would b e safe to say that much of Prometheus is nearer ZEsch lus Eros and to Whitman than to y , 1 80

R O B E R T B R I D G E S

ffl e already seen how, with a ba ing misus of the e he the Terentian mat rial , has caught spirit of Terence in the Feas t of B acchus but to consider these masks as derivative work in any s ense of the word is to miss the flavour of three poems which belong to the as present day as much to any . For the purpose of this study I have included Achilles in S c ros e e y , which is ith r a delightful e e e e the mask or an x crabl drama, und r former e AS e h ading . a play it has all the def cts w e e which have noticed , in an xaggerated e V e characteriza form . Ther is no ital att mpt at tion except in the case of the rather shadowy U the lysses of wide brow and restless eye . The action too is negligible ; and the one — ’ dramatic moment Achilles choice of the ’ — sword from the pedlar s pack has been robbed of all delicacy by the arrangement of the ’ Deiadamia s trick on the stage . chorus of e the maidens , not distantly r lated to fays of ’ N D e A Midsummer ight s ream , are only mor convincing than the Christian Captives by e virtue of th ir setting . Abas is an elementary e we Sala B n Sala in chiton . And are sorry for e e e non of thes things . Th y are all forgotten in the lucidity of a consummate poetical e e techniqu , in the overflowing measur of beauty that drowns this starry island of the 1 8 2 C L A S S I C I S M

ZEgean in its bathing blue ; fresh - blown

e - flowers the beauty of scatter d wind , beauty e the of tall Ships , and , ov rspread , flush of j oy e e and of unwithering youth . Tak for xample the picture of the Cretan ships j oining the e saw anchor d fleet at Aulis , as the old king them on a misty morning

The next day at dawn ’ wa su I played the Spy . T s ch a breathless morning When all the sound and motion of the sea I s S ort and su en i e a reamin east h ll , l k d g b ’ Or as twere mixed of heavier elements

an the ri t water t at o e s the win . Th b gh , h b y d Hiring a fishing boat we bade the sailors Row us to Au is w en mi wa the straits l h d y , The mornin mist i te and lo a Si t g l f d, , gh — i ur Unpicturable . H gh upon o left W ere we su ose was not in su en h pp d h g, dd ly A ta and s a ow ure oome t en two ll h d y fig l d h , And t ree and our and more towerin a o e us h f , g b v B ut whether poised upon the leaden s ea e stoo or oate in the mist air Th y d , fl d y , That baffling our best V ision held entangled

The Si er of the a - awa en e sun lv h lf k d , Or w et er near or far we c ou not te h h , ld ll , Nor w at at rst I t ou t t emroc s but ere h fi h gh h k , at error cou b e to t e were u on us Th ld ld , h y p B earing down swiftly athwart our course and all ’ Saw twas a eet of s i s not t ree or our fl h p , h f ’ Now but unnumber d i e a oatin cit , l k fl g y, I suc cou b e wit wa s an d att ements f h ld , h ll b l Spread on the wondering water and now the sun B ro e t rou the aze and romthe s ie s outhun k h gh h , f h ld g 1 8 3 R O B E R T B R I D G E S

Blaze ac his azz in eams and roun t eir rows d b k d l g b , d h p On the divided water played as still e ro e the ti e in silence all t eir oars Th y d d , h Stretc e out a o t as are the a ance win s h d l f , b l d g storm- ow w ic returne rom att n i t Of f l , h h d f b li g ﬂ gh Across the sea stea t eir ac in lumes , dy h h g p And Skimalong the s huddering cliffs at ease SO came t e i in on the su len ain h y gl d g l pl , Out of the ar in si ent state orce d k, l , by f Yet une en e of t eir ni t on xp d d h gh l g sp eed . ose were the Cretan S i s who w en t e saw us Th h p , h h y Hai e for a i ot and of our nati e sailors l d p l , v oo one a oar and i in all t eir oars T k b d , d pp g h P asse on an d w i e w t t em into the ba . d , h h , y

e ﬁn e e e The Here , th n , is a pi c of classicism . e e app ndix will t ll you , if you do not know it e e alr ady , that it is an imitation from Cald ron ’ Muley s well - known Speech from Princip e e e e e e Constant . Wh th r it w re imitat d from Turn er or from [Eschylus would make little difference to the fact that it is a b eautiful e e e e e e ee pi c of writing , that shows , if th r w r n d ’ the e e e to Show, po t s unrivall d mast ry of blank

e . e e e e vers It bristl s with t chnical subtl ti s . Consider (at random) that exquisite chiasma of ideas

B ut whether poised upon the leaden sea st or o t i th mi i e oo a e n e st a r. Th y d , ﬂ d y

But beauty is squandered here So lavishly f e e that it is di ﬁcult to quot . What do s it 1 8 4

R O B E R T B R I D G E S But if it were ever necessary to convince a reader that Achilles is very far from being a the hawking of old goods , I should point to — great chorus a Lydian chant he calls it “ in praise of music makers for Lydian

- e the hill Sid s never knew such music , and philosophy which informs it is as modern as

Whitman . As a lyric it is ﬁt to take its place the Shorter oems with the greatest of P , for to these it is akin in its vernal rhapsody ; but the recognition in the later stanzas of this Hymn of Earth of

The omnipotent one desire Which burns at her heart like ﬁre And hath in gladness arrayed her

reveals that happy wisdom which often marks the highest poetic achievement in this man ’ s

work .

’ For God w ere er he at ui e we et wi e , h h h b ld d, d ll h d , An d he c aret h ,

To set a task to the smallest atom.

The law - a i in rains b d g g , That hearken each an d rej oice For he guideth the world as a horse with reins It o e et hi s oice b y h v , i And lo he hath set a beautiful end before t . This chorus is more than a Hymn of Earth

e . or of Po try . It is another fountain of Joy Achilles in S cyros s eems a thing fragile with 1 8 6 C L A S S I C I S M the beauty of its own anemones in comparison with the first of the Masks proper Prometheus “ the Fire iver r e G e g , which is w itt n in the r ek ” The e e manner . v ry name suggests a massiv treatment ; for this myth of suffering and revolt has already stirred SO many passionate e e O int llig nces . ne thinks of the first Prome e S e e G e e th us , and those of h ll y and o th , e has r alizing that this , of all the old stories , been chos en as most worthy to carry the ’ fire e e 1 burning of a po t s m taphysic . The exp ected massiveness is there ; there is much that is statuesque and Greek about the e e whol of the po m , which is indeed of rare and finely - chis elled perfection ; but you will look in vain for the flaming metaphysic e e e e of r volt , or inde d for any oth r m taphysic . The title is suggestive of this intent Prome e e theus the Firegiver. It is n ith r a philosophical e treatis nor a tract , but a poem , pure and e e e Simpl , wh r in

Nature had kissed Art And borne a child to stir With j ealousy the heart ’ ea e r Of h v n s A tiﬁcer.

It is only concerned with the rebellious spirit wooeth the that Beauty , with the gift of ﬁre ,

1 J ust as Scriabin to- da has chosen it to e ress his theo , y, xp s o hical id i u i p eas n m s c . 1 87 R O B E R T B R I D G E S

e b auty of ﬁre, and the j oy that radiates from e its b auty . The Miltonic cast of the Prologue declares itself in such lines as

He wit rute an s in u e isor er ea e h b h d h g d d h p d ,

’ but no sooner have we come to the Servant s u n ﬁred faggot than we stumble upon a passage which is as surely characteristic of Bridges

I see the cones

And nee es of the ﬁr w ic the win dl , h h by d I n melancholy places ceaselessly

Sighing are strewn upon the tufted floor. Or again Such are enough To ur en the s ow i t of a ourin roo s b d l fl gh l b g k , When on the leafless tree-tops in young March Their glossy herds assemblin g soothe the air i ri s of s m o win u W th c e ole n j y and ca gs lo d .

A note which ﬁnds a faint echo in the ﬂight ’ e e e e e of H ra s dov s , a hundr d lin s lat r, drifting

Down to the golden tree AS tired birds at even Come ﬂying straight to house t i s On he r ac customed bough .

The ﬁrst chorus too is full of exquisite e e rhythmical subtl ti s which only Show how . freely h e moves within the limits of a strict form ; while the tissue of the verse is shot with 1 88

R O B E R T B R I D G E S

in such stiff deposits of unrhymed heroic that e O e the two gr at d s , A coy inquisitive Spirit , the Spirit of wonder , and My soul is drunk ” e so with j oy, shin here brightly . Indeed the stanzas O my vague desires always seem to me to read better in Prometheus than in the slightly different version of the Shorter

oems . so the P Even , the bulk of blank verse e is noble and digniﬁed ; whil in one passage , ’ ’ the climax of Prometheus narration of 1o s e e fated wand ring , where he l ads his hearers through frozen Thrace and Scythia to the shuddering desolation which surrounds his e own martyrdom , is a cresc ndo of horror

unequalled Since the Elizabethans .

In Demeter the conditions are reversed . The opening is magnificent : but as on e proceeds the work seems to lose grip and e e impetus , almost as if a task nt red upon with enthusiasm has been finished listlessly or e under protest . As a matt r of fact the whole poem was written within the limits of a single month :a point which Should b e of interest to the writers who have seen in Bridges ’ work a slow and deliberate carp entry of metre e seeing that it happily dispos es of their th ory . — It is noticeable that in this the first long po em since the publication of the Experiments in — Classi cal Pros ody he makes a free u se of 1 9 0 C L A S S I C I S M

S quantitative measures in his choruses . uch is the ﬁrst chorus of Oceanides whose lovely choriambics seem to swim into new ﬁelds of rhythmical beauty and such are the iambics the Ode 0 e of that the arth , or only this ’ w er fair isle ours . And I think that through e e in out the blank v rs , as well as the choric e measures of this po m , it is obvious that “ Bridges has been thinking in quantity so that what it loses in p erfection of polish it e e gains , as surely , in sugg stiven ss . It is a pity that such b eautiful things as the Iambic Ode should have b een hidden from those who only n e k ow w ll the Shorter Poems . I quote it as one of his loveliest lyrics

’ 0 t at the eart or on t is air is e wer ours h h , ly h f l ’ Ami the ocean s ue il ows d bl b l , ’ Wit ﬂow r woo an state mountain and al e h y dl d, ly v l y, Cascadin g and lilied river Nor e er a morta en ious a orious v l v , l b , B an uis or ul care o rest y g h d l pp , Should come polluting with remorseful countenance ur a nt of as aiet O h u e y g y . ’ For us the rass s o es the c ountr s airiness g y l p , y , The o t w is erin orest l f y h p g f , Where rapturously P hilomel invoketh the night And million eager throats the mom Wit o es at e enin so t cooin and mel ow h d v v g f ly g , l Ca ences of the ew r d d y th ush . We o e the ent e eer and nim e ante o e l v g l d , bl l p Mice love we and springin g squirrels 1 9 1 R O B E R T B R I D G E S

To watc the au ies isit the ooms to ear h g dy ﬂ v bl , h ’ On e r me t e as er v y ad h gr shopp . ’ ’ A t ro the s rin - ti e t ro the in o ent summer ll h p g d , h d l , ’ (If only this fair isle wer ours ) Here mi t we we or et u of the wee ca es gh d ll , f g f l dy v ’ B eneat the o a s i w h ce n blue b llo s .

I n a very different vein is the charming ’ version of Apuleius story of E ros and

s che. S P y Mr . ymons thought it cold with e the coldness of work done , how ver sym ” pathetically , as task work , and but half ” Ero the alive . I ﬁnd in s some of most con ’ sistently beautiful and delicate of all Bridges e work . It is no asy matter to avoid monotony through three hundred and sixty - ﬁve stanzas e of which a doz n , without really skilful hand

on e . ling, would bore to distraction The pleasant conceit of dividing the story into e four seasons and thes again into months , e e e ach with its proper compl m nt of days , may contribute to the debonair lilt with which the e story mov s along . But apart from its many

e - e e e e w ll conceal d d vic s , it is a d lightful work , e e e with fr quent moments of a v ry rar beauty . e e It shows , too , a consummat mast ry of e narrative which owes very littl to its original . Apart from a fairly strict faithfulness to the ’ e l the order and incid nt in Apu eius story, colour and spirit of the poem is as different as 1 9 2

R O B E R T B R I D G E S

The Special beauties of them are s o many that hardly one stands out b eyond the rest . Some of the best things seem to be deliberately e s o conc aled , carefully is the classic mean the e e e preserved . Even tir som b haviour of the e e some of characters , specially the c lestial e chagrin of Aphrodite , only l nds variety to the e e limpid ﬂow of the v rs . From the moment when Psyche is left on the mountain - top to

her mysterious lover , when

Now the sun was sun on the ea k , ly p k ’ Flash d like a j ewel in the deepening blue

waited her and She is to grassy plateau , we step into a fairyland that has all the luxuriant ’ S The the loveliness of penser s . only ﬂaw in description of her entertainment by the servants of Eros is an anagram on the name of Purcell ; and even here the beauty of the t e verse excuses h lapse in taste . And the commonplaces of mythology have never been used in English vers e with such charming e e effect . H re is a stanza from the pictur of the tapestry in Eros ’ house

Here Zeus in i eness of a tawn u , l k y b ll , ’ StOO d on the Cretan S ore hi s mi t nee p h gh y k , While off his back Europa beautiful Stept pale against the blue Carpathian sea And ere A o o as he cau t amaze h p ll , gh d Da ne for 10 her an s s ot ort u raise ph , h d h f h p d I n e s e r te i tree a e her e t were oo e a . l v , f d l k 1 9 4 C L A S S I C I S M

Frequently in the earlier part of the poem are passages of a curiously fragrant quality that reminds one of the most fam ed tellers of e e old tales . The charm of such lines as th s is too frail to b ear analysis

W ic sai w en he a ree she s a e no more h h d, h g d , p k , B ut e t himto his tas and too her wa l f k, k y

si the ri es of the S e - strewn s ore B e de ppl h ll h , Th sout war stretc in mar in of a b a e h d h g g y , ’ ose san cur es She ass d and ta in stan Wh dy v p , k g d U on its ta er orn of art est an p p h f h l d,

Lookt left and right to rise and set of day .

And this clear and tender note meets us e often in some casual passag of description . T e e e lie the h actual scenery of Cr t , the of land , e e e e is brought in occasionally with xc ll nt eff ct . Here is a charming piece of geography

’ On the He eni c oar of Crete S air is e ll b d f l , Westwar of Dre anon a on a reac d p , l g h Which massy Cyamumfor many a mile J utting to sea d elivers fromthe breach — Of North and East returning to embay The a oure s ore—an ancient cit la f v d h y y ,

A tera w ic is Win less in our S eec . p , h h g p h And again

She came stee wa s to the sout ern stran by p y h d , Where sacre to the win s and B ritomart , d T , P ent in its roc t eatre a art ky h p , A httle to e wn stood on the lev l sand .

’ e th e e V ry pleasant , too , is po t s loving 1 9 5 R O B E R T B R I D G E S

e G e tr atment of the magic re k names , and , with the same delight with which Vergil must have written

Amphion Dircaeus in Actaeo Aracintho he gives us this exquisite string of Hellenic ’ the e j ewellery , nymphs of Pos idon s train

A seudes an d Nemertes Ca ianassa p , ll , C mothoe Thaleia Limnorrhea y , , , C men e I an eira and I anassa ly , , Doris and P ano é and Ga atea p l , D namene Dexamen e and Maira y , Ferusa Doto P roto Callianeira , , , ,

m i a A h thoe Orethuia and Amathe . p ,

’ Psyche s trials are told with a ﬁne sense of what is demanded by the manner of the poem —with just enough tenderness not to disturb The the dreamy detachment of the tale . almost ecstatic picture of Pan on the river ’ of e e e e bank , H ra s t mpl , of the kindly tow r e A hro which saved Psyche from d ath , and p ’

e are e e . dite s s agull , of th ir kind quit ﬂawless O e e e w e f her d sc nt into Had s see nothing , but we remember it by the exquisite picture of her e return , wh n She

Ga e Cer erus his ca e C aron his are v b k , h f , ’ And saw t rou He s mout to the ur e air h gh ll h p pl , An t r m t i da d one by one he keen sta s el n y .

I would place E ros an d Psyche very high ’ e e among Bridg s work . If not the b st , it is 1 9 6

C L A S S I C A L P R O S O D Y

I F English prosody is to make any immediate —if advance from its present standard —one can give the name to a thing s o in definite it is not improbable that it will be by way of the the quantitative hexameter . Judging hexa meter by the experiments of any poet except e fi e Bridges , the prosp ct would be suf ci ntly l appal ing . But Bridges is really the first poet to write the English hexameter at all with a e realization of what the form impli s . One may dismiss at once the authors of reams of ’ e accentual hexam ters , of which Clough s work holds both the best and worst examples . is l S It to the ate Mr . Will tone that we owe the possibility of such a form in English , and it was at his wish that Bridges made his happy e e xperim nts in this manner . It is part of the incredible confusion of thought which garbled prosody into syllabic verse that hardly a single critic or poet has seemed to understand the first principle of the Greek and Latin verse , the nice combat between accent and 1 9 8 C L A S S I C A L P R O S O D Y

quantity which seems to be the only sound 1 . S e basis for a prosody Mr . tone show d at least that most attempts at English quantita tive verse had been founded upon a mis conception not only of the nature of classical the e forms , but of necessities which mould d their familiar rules The few writers who realized that the h exameter was not merely a matter of a r ecurrent beat did not get s o far e L G as to r alize that in atin , as in reek , its form resulted in evitably from the inh erent e the e stubbornn ss of languag . To avoid in English what Vergil avoided is only to pile the difﬁculties of Latin upon our own quite f e su ﬁci nt allowance . Bridges has developed this point in theory 2 has e as well as in his experiments . He don a very necessary s ervice in pointing out that the stereotyped dactyl - trochee ending of a Latin hexameter was the result of sheer The e e e necessity . language r fus d to tak any f e e other form . I V rgil could by any m ans

e e e ve ex e éra Za k hav r produced such eff cts as ¢ ny p , there can b e no possible doubt that he s o e e would have done . His fondn ss for nding ” e hominumrex a lin with , and the pains to which he puts himself to ﬁnd other monosyllabic

1 ” Classical Metres in En lish Verse O ford 1901 . g , x , 2 Essa on the Ver ilian He ameter New uarterl J anuar y g x , ' y, y,

1909 . R O B E R T B R I D G E S endings are enough to Show that he found his ” a chains irksome . The c esura rule , too , e e was formulated by the Latin languag . Thes are the stumbling - blocks that have been cheerfully accepted as obj ects for imitation by th e few English experimenters in classical prosody . Now it is obvious that if any advance is to b e made in the handling of the English hexa meter the language must ﬁnd out rules of its the e own . That is , po ts who handle it will constantly be delighted by beautiful and suggestive rhythms which cannot be made to take more than an occasional part in the fabric t e e e S of h v rs . uch are those of the beautiful lines from I bant Obscuri

’ Cast him a ca e o - drench d wit rowsiness and k , p ppy h d one - Sweetene h y d, and

rou B re an ar ness t rou e s sown wit Th gh b d k , h gh ﬁ ld h ti n desola o .

The the difﬁculty of monosyllabic ending , e s o for which V rgil worked hard, is , of course , SO e e not nearly hard to ov rcom in English . Here are some very effective and natural instances from the Vergil version :

’ He ra i and isten in a- un r his tri - cavern d , b d , d d g h g y ply

j aws .

Red P le et on and u e ou ers his roun u es be h g h , h g b ld dy b bbl . 200

R O B E R T B R I D G E S

It may easily deceive us into reading too much e are e all ex eri po tic worth into what , aft r , p e e ments made mor or l ss in the dark . But the very crudeness that so often cr0 ps out in the e me verse has its own charm . It se ms to to have the curious blending of ruggedness and speed that is common in Ennius or Lucretius — e e e poets who wer , aft r all , doing precis ly e the same thing as Bridg s , with less apparent e e chanc of succ ss . Things like

Don o duc te do ue volentibus cumma nis dis , i , g g ,

Curan tes magna cumcura tumcupientes Regni dant operamsimul auspicio auguriogue suggest , I think , something of that rapture of realized strength that I ﬁnd in this

’ B an the sun s old eart is stirre to a se tennia smi e l dly h d p l l ,

- Causing strange fortuned comfort to melancholy mortals . Or this wonderful picture of the tropical forest

at mi t orest w ose wi ness o en s ou Th gh y f , h ld ff d y , ’ An d si ences a a w ere eart s i e se - su focatin l pp l , h h l f , lf f g ’ ’ Seet es a is as sun - i e in a red star s fi r corona h , l v h l f y at waste ma ni cence an d ain ecun it ree in Th g fi v f d y, b d g ’ Giants and arasites embrac d in ower tan e p fl y gl , Interwo en a i e and ea w ere one t rannous tree v l v d d, h y Blights desolatin g around it a swamp of rank vegetation ’ W ere Reason et reams unaw kt and t ro the h y d a , h solemn day Only the monkey chatters and discordant the parrot

screams . 202 C L A S S I C A L P R O S O D Y

The long line - for - line version from the Sixth t e e e book of h [En id is v ry unequal . It con

e e - e tains , in its four hundr d and ighty sev n

- ﬁve e lines , about thirty false quantiti s . e Possibly there are mor , for in one or two places one is doubtful of the pronunciation e e ee int nd d . I cannot agr with the author that a few false quantities do not make a ” e e e is poem l ss readabl . C rtainly it at ﬁrst

no easy matter to think in quantities . But e e once this difﬁculty is mast red , as Bridg s l e e e e himse f has appar ntly mast r d it , to stumbl upon a Short vowel in a long position is a e the e painful accident , wheth r po m be in L L English or in atin . ines like these are terrible

i e She to the ground downcast her eyes n ﬁxity avert d .

Soot e wit ot er memories rst love and ir ina h d h h , ﬁ v g l

embrace .

Marc in in e ua ste and ea er of his comin en uire . h g q l p, g g q

- w Endeth in Elysi umour path but that to the left ard .

Such that no battering warfare of men or immortals .

The device of placing an acute accent on e the false syllabl , as though to reinforce it ,

is unworthy . That of doubling a consonant

That bright sprigg of weird for so long p eriod unseen

is more picturesque , but it is not always 203 R O B E R T B R I D G E S

not e available . The author would , for instanc , “ ” have ventured to write lovve in the s econd the of lines quoted . But in spite of its false quantities and e e e the e the e frequ nt lib rti s with t xt , v rsion is e are e a very ﬁne piece of work . Ther plac s where it fails badly ; but there are others where it is nearly as good as the original . Here is a terribly inadequate version of a wonderful line ’ an on the second morn Saw w en a reat wa e raise me a o t the Ital an i , h g v d l f , y h gh

lands . But in two lines at least it is better than the —the original , translation , already quoted , of

E cce ubernator sese P alinurus a ebat g g , ui Lib co na er cursu dumsidera servat q y p ,

exciderat a i mediis di usus in undis . p pp , ﬁ

e Above all , it is Vergilian . There is no oth r e e e version , v n in a far less difﬁcult mann r, that has approached the Vergilian strength e e and t nderness , as in lines lik these

Now to the wind and tidewash a sport my poor body ro et ll h,

’ Here tis a ace of osts of ni t and rows e usion pl gh , gh d y d l Forbidden unto living mortals is my Stygian keel

or this magniﬁcent translation of the farewell to Deiphobus 204

R O B E R T B R I D G E S writing English verse in classical metres is the lack of words ending in a Short open e e u se of m vow l . The result is an enforc d ore spondees than the metre can reasonably b e e f e exp cted to bear . The apparent stif n ss which at pres ent strikes one in most dactylic lines which may be metrically quite sound is principally the result of unfamiliarity . With a little u se the mechanism Should run smoothly the enough . But other difﬁculty is more b e serious , and I think it will have to partly met by conventionalizing certain departures e e from strict form . Bridg s has made a mov in this direction in his use of and the or “ in the as the second half of a dactyl ’ e e writing th m , not v ry prettily , as an the ’ S i the . mall proclitic words generally will bear a good deal of Shortening without any e e e e off nc against proper diction . I for se another danger in the readiness with which endings of the ” caverned aws bubbles be sudden type of j , ” smile e e . , suggest th ms lves In fact any mono syllabic noun beginning with a consonant e e prec eded by any disyllabic , iambic adj ctive , e e will form the end of a hexam t r . This threatens to become the commonest type of S ending . ingly it is excellent ; but after a few successive lines it has a very irritating e fe e f ct . The lack of Short op n ﬁnal syllables 206 C L A S S I C A L P R O S O D Y

e makes the pentamet r a tough problem . I do not believe that the English hexameter will e e e e e v r be r ally succ ssful , though excell nt things may b e done in it ; but it is evident that if English prosody is to make any ad vance from its present standard the elem ent of quantity will have to b e deﬁnitely recog nized e e . Poets will hav to l arn to think in The e e quantities . hexamet r with its gr at traditions will b e the most convenient ﬁ eld e for the xperiment .

207 C O N C L U S I O N S

THE small collection of pieces which are grouped together under the heading of Later Poems in the Oxford Edition and have all appeared since the close of the nineteenth century are of less importance than one e e might imagin . Besid the other work of this e Demeter period , which includ s as well as the oems in Classi cal ros od incon P P y, they are si erable e d . I do not sugg st that they are e lacking in colour or in b auty , though the whole collection falls far below the attainment of any book of the S horter Poems but they do not Show the concentration of form, the e e enthusiasm for p rf ction , which infects the e as reader of almost all his oth r work . It is the e e though hand wer a little tired , and r ady to accept forms of expression which the eager mind has long ago outgrown . Apart from the Recollections of ﬁrst Elegy , the thoughtful S oli ude l :e t , there is ittle that holds one ven the trivial domestic pieces such as M illi cen t 208

R O B E R T B R I D G E S

Or sweet comes as w en the soun ly , h d From i en i a es aroun h dd v ll g d, rea in the woo kno s is orne Th d g dy ll , b e s t at on th a morn Of b ll h d g e S bbath . The inclusion of the octave of that fine sonnet ’ e e S e Rej oice y d ad , where er your pirits dw ll only serves to Show up the loose construction e e T O of the v rs that surrounds it . hat the de is eminently suited for musical treatment I would not for a moment deny ; indeed it is probable that if the poetry had been as finely e fashion d as usual , no musician could have s et e S it . Ind ed it is ignificant that none of the S horter oems as P , many of which are good — ’ — stuff to u se Wagner s expression for music MOrike e as the lyrics of or Hein , to which a e e e e r semblanc has be n trac d, have yet found e O the an ad quate musical setting . f course , Ode to M usi c is a much more satisfying libretto sa from the poetic standpoint , than , y , the words of the great love duet in the second act all I of Tristan , which are not poetry at . quote at random

Mein Tristan Mein Isolde l Tristan Isolde Mein und dein I Immer ein I

Ewi ewi ein g, g 2 1 0 C O N C L U S I O N S

But if the poet has seen fit to leave so many gaps in his expression for the musician to he e e e the supply, should not v ntur to off r us e U e e e e Sk leton as poetry . naid d by the loqu nc e e of an orchestral s tting , a great part of thes two odes means very little more (even though it reads very much better) than the string of e words which I have quot d . s o the e e It happens that s cond of these po ms , e e and the last of the volum , comes to a clos G with that sturdy hymn ird on thy sword , ” 0 e e e man ; thy strength ndue , and th r by suggests a characteristic which we have already noticed :the strong religious s ense of which ’ one is always conscious in reading Bridges e e e The Growth po try . His first compl t work , o Love e e the f , r ach s its culmination in splendid ’ e the L e and sonorous paraphras of ord s Pray r , a thing informed with the fair strength of the early Gothic . At the end of fourth book of Shorter Poems (originally the end of the e L De s eries) comes the finely simpl aus o.

Let raise e ote th wor an d s i em o p d v y k, k ll pl y

w o e min and th eart b e ost in o . Thy h l d, y h l j y

e e All three poems give the ff ct , which I cannot the think unintentional , of a dedication , while ’ last actually deﬁnes the poet s attitude of spontaneous praise for the gift of beauty leading the pilgrim soul to beauty above 2 1 1 R O B E R T B R I D G E S

and I think one is often aware of this devo tional feeling in places where it is implied N rather than expressed . othing , indeed , could be more simple and straightforward than the Spirit of those poems which are deﬁnitely — religious . In none of them and besides those which I have mentioned there are not more

than half a dozen , exclusive of the translations — in the Yattendon Hymnal is there any attempt to explain the mysteri es of religion by those imaginative symbols which weight some poems of Francis Thompson like the mock j ewels incrusted upon a gilded chasuble . This , it may be urged , is only to say that in this l particu ar case , as in others , Bridges is not a mystic , but the point has more than a negative e e value . Thes r ligious poems Show a positive e Simplification of method , a deliberat sacrifice e of all decoration , which is r markable in the work of a man who has embroidered his vers e so richly . This is a very fine Simplicity ; it lends an added dignity to work which has e e n v r failed to be dignified . Of his spiritual courage we have already seen a token in his ready acceptance of life T e the as . h it is unwavering optimism , his steadiness of faith which tempers stoicism , are qualities which make him a most heartening companion ; when , as in the climax of those 2 1 2

R O B E R T B R I D G E S

quote from one of the sonnets) the master reason sits so that it is difficult to find in any of these poems an imaginative epithet or e figur , however widely suggestive, which cannot ultimately be justified in that high e SO court ; and this , I imagine , is why th re is

little in all his work that is obscure or equivocal . The e e singular fr shn ss of vision , as of one e e whose y s are unclouded by experience, which the e he has brought to study of nature, pervad s also his philosophy of life ; and in this con n ection one s ees that the isolation from “ ’ life s meagre affairs which I have alrea dy e e e d plor d in his quipment as a dramatist , may atone in candour for what it assuredly e e the e los s in br adth . Again , conscious s verity ’ of such poems as the Laus Deo and the Lord s e S Pray r onnet , marks a type of religious feeling which is found in its perfection through L r of out the itu gy the English Church , and t e h orthodox version of the Bible . They are inspired with the undecorate spirituality of the Anglican faith ; and it is this spirit which e e the plac s th m , along with nature poems e e which we have already xamin d , among the most English things in the language, typical of the English genius , and English e The e tast at its ﬁnest . intens racial quality ’ in Bridges poetry, apart from all questions 2 1 4 C O N C L U S I O N S

e e e of imaginative or technical xc llenc , Should make it work of rare Signiﬁcance in our litera e tur . It is a curious paradox that in making a ﬁnal e S O estimat of a poet peculiarly English , a parallel Should suggest its elf in the judgment of a French novelist upon an intensely French musician ; but the passage is s o strikingly applicable and such a fair summary of his e e e e g nius , that I quot it . After an acut r cog ’ nition of Debussy s honte hautaine de l’ i emot on . , M Rolland writes

’ I' a en re ous ses on s une ua é u on n e , t t d , q lit q trouve a un tel d egré c h ez p resque aucun autre ’ ’ ran mus c énie u oﬁt I l l a g d i ien c est le g d g . ’ ’ ’ us u a l exces us u a lui sacriﬁer au eso n les j q , j q b i ’ au res é émen s de ar les orces umu tueuses t l t l t, f t l ’ ’ n Mais jusqu a l appauvrissement app are t de la V ie . ’ il ne au as s rom er Cet a au rissement f t p y t p . pp v ’ ’ ’ n est u a arent Il- - a ans ou e l ce uvre une q pp . y d t t ass on o ée p i v il .

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