We | are the mu|sic-mak|ers,
And we | are the dream|ers of dreams,
Wan|dering by lone | sea-break|ers,
And sit|ting by de|solate streams:
World-los|ers and world-|forsakers,
On whom | the pale | moon gleams;
For we | are the mov|ers and shak|ers
Of the world | for ev|er, it seems.
(Anapæsts used with singular skill.)
The stars are dimly seen among the shadows of the bay,
And lights that win are seen in strife with lights that die away.
The wave is very still—the rudder loosens in our hand;
The zephyr will not fill our sail, and waft us to the land;
O precious is the pause between the winds that come and go,
And sweet the silence of the shores between the ebb and flow.
. . . . . . .
Say, shall we sing of day or night, fair land or mighty ocean,
Of any rapturous delight or any dear emotion,
Of any joy that is on earth, or hope that is above,
The holy country of our birth, or any song of love?
. . . . . . .
Our heart in all our life is like the hand of one who steers
A bark upon an ocean rife with dangers and with fears:
The joys, the hopes, like waves or wings, bear up this life of ours—
Short as a song of all these things that make up all its hours.
(The old fourteener—but made almost new by the great variation of pause, by occasional redundance, and by the grouping of the lines.)
If ev|er thou | didst creep
From out | the world | of sleep,
When the sun | slips | and the moon | dips,
If ev|er thou | wast born;
Or upon | the starv|ing lips
Of the gray | uncol|oured morn.
(Especial effect produced by the anapæsts and monosyllabic feet of line 3.)
Thou go|est more | and more
To the sil|ent things: | thy hair | is hoar,
Emp|tier thy wear|y face: | like to | the shore
Far-ru|ined, and | the deso|late bil|low white
That recedes | and leaves | it waif-wrin|kled, gap-|rocked, weak.
The shore | and the bil|low white
Groan|—they cry | and rest | not: they | would speak
And call | the eter|nal Night
To cease | them for ev|er, bid|ding new | things is|sue
From her | cold tis|sue:
Night | that is ev|er young, | nor knows | decay,
Though old|er by | eter|nity | than they.
(Very fine "modern Pindaric," with extremely well-managed substitution.)
[129] For some supposed exceptions v. sup. last section of Scanned Conspectus, pp. [128-130]. One of the most interesting things in the study of prosody is the tracing of the history of lyric forms. Examples have been given above, and more will be found below; but completeness is here again impossible. Again, also, the "principles," properly followed out, will carry the student safely through all such investigations, as, for instance, that into the connection of Mr. Swinburne's "Anima Anceps" with Curran's "Deserter," and the entire pedigree of both. Perhaps it may be well to add that, where a choriambic effect occurs (̄ ̆ ̆ ̄), choice is often, if not always, open between scansion as trochee and iamb or as monosyllabic foot and anapæst. This has been already indicated expressly in some examples. See, especially, pp. [183], [184], [212].