Nevertheless, even such productions as these are of definite use in your training. You have had to find words that rhymed. You have had to compress your ideas within a set limit; this in itself is a check on the long-winded wandering tendencies of the amateur. You have had to consider the respective weight of syllables—which is worth an accent, and which is not, and so on. In short, you have had to give some discriminating thought to what you were writing, and how you were writing it, and that is what the beginner so seldom does. He more often sits down and goes on and on and on—words, words, words—with no feeling for their respective values, or the proportion of the sentences and incidents as a whole.
Viscount Morley, in his Recollections, writes: "At Cheltenham College, I tried my hand at a prize poem on Cassandra; it did not come near the prize, and I was left with the master's singular consolation, for an aspiring poet, that my verse showed many of the elements of a sound prose style."
But the master's consolation was not so singular after all. It is quite possible for one to write verse that may be excellent training for prose writing, and yet that is not poetry in the most exclusive sense of the word.
Read Poetry Aloud to Cultivate a Sense of Musical Language
In addition to writing verse, I urge all students who wish to cultivate a sense of music in their writing to read good poetry, and, whenever possible, to read it aloud.
When reading aloud, the ear helps as well as the eye; whereas, when reading silently, the eye is apt to run on faster than the ear is able—mentally—to take in the sounds; and you are bound to miss some of the finer shades of movement and melody. When you say the words aloud, the sound and the beat of the syllables are more likely to be impressed upon your mind.
You cannot do better than Tennyson to begin with—one of the most musical of our poets. Read "The Lotos-Eaters," the lyrics in "The Princess," "The Lady of Shallott," "Come into the Garden, Maud." In "The Idylls," and "In Memoriam," are many exquisite passages. Read "Guinevere," and "The Passing of Arthur," for example, noting the lines that are conspicuous for their charm of wording, or balance, or sound.
Turning to other writers: I select a few instances at random, and am only naming well-known poems that are within the reach of most students:—
Christina Rossetti: The chant of the mourners, at the end of "The Prince's Progress," beginning "Too late for love," is worth reading many times.
Jean Ingelow has, in a marked degree, a musical quality in her verse which compensates in some measure for its slightness. Her habit of repeating a word often gives a lilt and a cadence to her lines that is very pleasing, as for instance in "Echo and the Ferry," and "Songs of Seven." As an example by another poet, this repetition of a word is used with delightful effect in "Sherwood," by Alfred Noyes.