“Ĭn thĕ dēad ŏf thĕ nīght, whĕn wĭth dīre cătĕrwāulĭng
Of grimalkins in chorus the house-tops resound;
All insensibly drunk, and unconsciously sprawling
In the kennel, how pleasant it is to be found!”
The various specimens of versification of which examples have been given, may be improved and varied by the admission of secondary feet into their composition; but as we are not writing an Art of Poetry, we cannot afford to show how: particularly as the only way, after all, of acquiring a real knowledge of the structure of English verse, is by extensive reading. Besides, there yet remain a few Directions for Poetical Beginners, which we feel ourselves called upon to give, and for which, if we do not take care, we shall not have room.
The commencement of a poet’s career is usually the writing of nonsense verses. The nonsense of these compositions is very often unintentional; but sometimes words are put together avowedly without regard to sense, and with no other view than that of acquiring a familiarity with metrical arrangement: as,
“Approach, disdain, involuntary, tell.”
But this is dry work. It may be necessary to compose in this way just at first, but in our opinion, there is a good and a bad taste to be displayed even in writing nonsense verses; that is, verses which really deserve that name. We recommend the young poet to make it his aim to render his nonsense as PERFECT as possible. He will find many bright examples to follow in the world of literature: but perhaps, for the present, he will put up with our own.
“Conclusive tenderness; fraternal grog,
Tidy conjunction; adamantine bog,
Impetuous, arrant toadstool; Thundering quince,
Repentant dog-star, inessential Prince
Expound. Pre-Adamite eventful gun,
Crush retribution, currant-jelly, pun.
Oh! eligible Darkness, fender, sting
Heav’n-born Insanity, courageous thing.
Intending, bending, scouring, piercing all,
Death like pomatum, tea, and crabs must fall.”
A very good method of making nonsense verses, consists in taking bits, selected here and there at random, out of some particular poet, or phrases in his style, and then putting them together with a few additions of your own secundùm artem. Sometimes, however, it answers very well to copy a page or so of an author word for word. Nonsense verses composed in this manner, form not only a beneficial exercise, but are also very useful for insertion in young ladies’ albums; as they can be made without much trouble, and when made, are not only thought just as well of as the most sensible productions would be, but very often cried over into the bargain, as affecting and pathetic.
EXAMPLE.
THE OCEAN WANDERER.
“Bright breaks the warrior o’er the ocean wave
Through realms that rove not, clouds that cannot save,
Sinks in the sunshine; dazzles o’er the tomb,
And mocks the mutiny of Memory’s gloom.
Oh! who can feel the crimson ecstasy
That soothes with bickering jar the Glorious Free?
O’er the high rock the foam of gladness throws,
While star-beams lull Vesuvius to repose:
Girds the white spray, and in the blue lagoon,
Weeps like a walrus o’er the waning moon?
Who can declare?—not thou, pervading boy
Whom pibrochs pierce not, crystals cannot cloy;—
Not thou, soft Architect of silvery gleams,
Whose soul would simmer in Hesperian streams,
Th’ exhaustless fire—the bosom’s azure bliss,
That hurtles, life-like, o’er a scene like this;—
Defies the distant agony of Day—
And sweeps o’er hecatombs—away! away!
Say, shall Destruction’s lava load the gale,
The furnace quiver, and the mountain quail?
Say, shall the son of Sympathy pretend
His cedar fragrance with our Chief’s to blend?
There, where the gnarled monuments of sand
Howl their dark whirlwinds to the levin brand;
Where avalanches wail, and green Distress
Sweeps o’er the pallid beak of loveliness:
Where melancholy Sulphur holds her sway;
And cliffs of Conscience tremble, and obey;
And where Tartarean rattle-snakes expire,
Twisting like tendrils of a hero’s pyre?
No! dancing in the meteor’s hall of power,
See, Genius ponders o’er Affection’s tower!
A form of thund’ring import soars on high,
Hark! ’tis the gore of infant melody:
No more shall verdant Innocence amuse
The lips that death-fraught Indignation glues;—
Tempests shall teach the trackless tide of thought,
That undistinguish’d senselessness is nought:
Freedom shall glare; and oh! ye links divine,
The Poet’s heart shall quiver in the brine.”