The peculiar variation in length of line found in the Pindaric ode belongs almost entirely to lyric poetry. Monologues and dramatic poems are frequently found in blank verse.
We find here a peculiar principle existing. In blank verse there is greater variation of the feet than in almost any other form of poetry, and yet in this the length of line is most fixed. In the Pindaric ode, on the contrary, where the foot is more regular, there are great variations in the length of line. Is there not discoverable here a law, that where length of line is more fixed, metre is more variable, but where length of line is more variable, the metric feet tend to be more regular?
Art is “order in play”; the free, spontaneous variation is play; the fixed or regular elements give the sense of order. True art always accentuates both order and play, not in antagonistic opposition, but in sympathetic union. Whenever the order is more apparent in one direction, there is greater freedom of play in another, and the reverse.
We find this principle specially manifest in pantomimic expression. Man is only free and flexible in the use of his arms and limbs when he has a stability of poise and when his movement ends in a stable attitude. There is opposition between motions and positions.
This important law has been overlooked both in action and in vocal expression. It is not quite the same as Delsarte’s law: “Stability is characteristic of the centre; flexibility, of the surface.” While this is true, the necessary co-ordination of the transcendence of stability of attitude over motion is also a necessary law of all expression.
Before trying to lay down any general law regarding metre as a mode of expression, let us examine a few monologues in various feet.
Notice the use of the trochee to express the loving entreaty in “A Woman’s Last Word” (p. [6]). To give this a careless rendering with its metric movement confused, as is often done, totally perverts its meaning and spirit. The accent on the initial word of the line gives an intensity of feeling with tender persuasiveness. This accent must be strong and vigorous, followed by a most delicate touch upon the following syllables:—
“Be a god, and hold me
With a charm!
Be a man, and fold me
With thine arm!”
One who has little sense of metre should try to read this poem in some different foot. He will soon become conscious of the discord. When once he catches the spirit of the poem with his own voice, he will experience a satisfaction and confidence in his rhythmic instinct, and in his voice as its agent, that will enable him to render the poem with power.
Note in this poem also the shortness of the lines, which express the abrupt outbursts of intense feeling. The fact that every other line ends upon an accented syllable adds intensity, sincerity, and earnestness to the tender appeal. The delicate beauty of the rhymes also aids in idealizing the speaker’s character. The whole form is beautifully adapted to express her endeavor to lift her husband out of his suspicious and ignoble jealousy to a higher plane.