In her ear he whispers gaily,

"If my heart by signs can tell, Maiden, I have watched thee daily, And I think thou lov'st me well."

Tennyson.

Praise the Lord! ye heavens adore Him '
Praise Him, angels, in the height!
Sun and moon rejoice before Him!
Praise Him all ye stars of night!

Composition in this measure is very rare, and even when combined with truncated and hypermetrical verses it has been but little cultivated.

Spake full | well în | länguăge | quãint ănd | ōlděn,
One who dwelleth | by the castled | Rhine,
When he called the | flowers so | blue and | golden
Stars that in earth's | firma | ment do | shine.
Longfellow.

What is yon so white beside the greenwood?
Is it snow or flight of cygnets resting?
Were it snow, ere now it had been melted;
Were it swans, ere now the flock had left us.

Aytoun.

Then methought I heard a hollow sound,
Gathering up from all the lower ground;
Narrowing in to where they sat assembled,
Low voluptuous music, winding, trembled.

Tennyson.

Holy, holy, holy, all the saints a dore Thee,

Casting down their golden | crowns a | round the | glassy |

sea.

Heber.

Here is a specimen of this verse truncated.

Love with rosy | fetter | held us | firmly | bound;
Pure un mixed en | joyment | grateful | here we | found.
Bosom | bosom | meeting | 'gainst our | youths we | pressed;
Bright the morn a rose then | glad to see us | blessed.
G. Borrow.

(g and h). TROCHAIC HEPTAMETER AND OCTAMETER. Normal lines Fourteen and Sixteen Syllables. There are but few symmetrical poems in these measures, although they have been freely used by Longfellow, Lord Lytton, Aytoun, and Tennyson in irregular combinations. Tennyson's Locksley Hall and Poe's Raven supply good examples.

Cursed be the social wants that sin against the | strength of youth! Cursed be the

truth!

social | lies that | warp us from the | living

Cursed be the sickly | forms that err from | honest | na

ture's rule!

head of the | fool!

Cursed be the gold that gilds the straitened | fore

Tennyson.

Ah! distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.

Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow-sorrow for the lost Lenore-For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore

Nameless here for evermore.

Poe.

In the market-place of Bruges stands the belfry old and brown: Thrice consumed and thrice rebuilded, still it watches o'er the

town.

As the summer morn was breaking on that lofty tower I stood, And the world threw off the darkness like the weeds of widow

hood.

Longfellow.

Then we bounded from our covert. Judge how looked the

Saxons then,

When they saw the rugged mountain start to life with armed Aytoun.

men.

Come, my lad, and sit beside me; we have often talked before Of the hurricane and tempest, and the storms on sea and

shore :

When we read of deed and daring done for dear old England's

sake,

We have cited Nelson's duty and the enterprise of Drake. Clement Scott.

3.-ANAPESTIC MEASURE.

Trisyllabic measures have not been much used by our poets for reasons that are not far to seek. They require the constant recurrence of two syllables both unaccented and short to one syllable accented, and our language does not afford that proportion. Their construction being thus rendered

more complex and artificial than dissyllabic verse, and their rhythmical ring being more pronounced and therefore liable to become monotonous, it need not surprise us that no lengthy poem has been attempted in the three-syllable metre. The licences made use of in verse of this kind are many and varied, the interchange of feet, the omission and addition of syllables being almost the rule instead of the exception. Pure symmetrical lines are rarely met with consecutively unless the rhyme demands it.

It is unnecessary, we think, to preserve further the detailed classification of dimeter, trimeter verse, as has been done in the dissyllabic measures; numerous and varied examples are, however, given, adequate for all the purposes of illustration and explanation, and the reader will find abundant material for the exercise of the critical faculty and skill in scanning in the works of all our modern poets, especially in Shelley, Longfellow, and Tennyson.

I ǎm out of humanity's reach,

I must finish my journey alone,

Never hear the sweet music of speech.

I start at the sound of my own.

Tis the last rose of sum | měr,

Left blooming ǎlōne;

All her lovely companions

Are faded and gone.

Cowper.

Moore.

He is gone | on the moun | tăng
He is lost to the forest,
Like a summer-dried fountain,

When our need was the sorest.

Scott.

She is far from the land | where her young | hero sleeps,

And lovers around | her are sigh | ing;

But coldly she turns from their gaze and weeps ;

For her heart in his grave is lying.

Moore.

Note here that the first verse is the only symmetrical one in the stanza, yet the melody throughout is perfect.

There the war | rior lay stretched | in the midst of his pride, And the bride | groom fell dead | by the corpse | of his bride; Unwept was the lyre, and forsaken the lute,

And the lips of the minstrel for ever was mute.

And the rose like a nymph | to the bath addrest,
Which unveiled the depth of her glowing breast,
Till fold after fold | to the faint | ing air

The soul of her beau | ty and love | lay bare.

Not a drum was heard,

Shelley.

not a fun | eral note,

As his corse to the ram | part we hur | ried;
Not a soldier discharg | èd his fare | well shot
O'er the grave | where our hero we bur | ied.

Wolfe.

I come, I come, | ye have called me long,
I come | o'er the mount | ain with light | and song;

E