ALLITERATIVE AND ALPHABETIC VERSE. |
There are some clever lines which illustrate this style on the Bunker Hill Monument celebration: “Americans arrayed and armed attend
Beside battalions bold, bright beauties blend,
Chiefs, clergy, citizens, conglomerate,—
Detesting despots,—daring deeds debate;
Each eye emblazoned ensigns entertain,—
Flourishing from far, fan freedom’s flame.
Guards greeting guards grown gray,—guest greeting guest.
High-minded heroes hither homeward haste,
Ingenuous juniors join in jubilee,
Kith kenning kin, kind knowing kindred key.
Lo, lengthened lines lend Liberty liege love,
Mixed masses, marshalled, Monumentward move.
Note noble navies near—no novel notion
Oft our oppressors overawed old Ocean;
Presumptuous princes pristine patriots paled,
Queen’s quarrel questing quotas, quondam quailed.
Rebellion roused, revolting ramparts rose.
Stout spirits, smiting servile soldiers, strove.
These thrilling themes, to thousands truly told,
Usurpers’ unjust usages unfold.
Victorious vassals, vauntings vainly veiled,
Where, whilesince, Webster warlike Warren wailed.
’Xcuse ’xpletives, ’xtra queer ’xpressed,
Yielding Yankee yeomen Zest.” | Prince Charles after Culloden. “All ardent acts affright an age abased
By brutal broils, by braggart bravery braced.
Craft’s cankered courage changed Culloden’s cry;
‘Deal deep’ deposed ‘deal death’—‘decoy’—‘defy!’
Enough. Ere envy enters England’s eyes,
Fancy’s false future fades, for Fortune flies.
Gaunt, gloomy, guarded, grappling giant griefs,
Here hunted hard, his harassed heart he heaves;
In impious ire incessant ills invests,
Judging Jove’s jealous judgments, jaundiced jests!
Kneel kirtled knight! keep keener kingcraft known,
Let larger lore life’s levelling lesson’s loan;
Marauders must meet malefactors’ meeds.
No nation noisy nonconformists needs.
O, oracles of old! our orb ordain
Peace’s possession—Plenty’s palmy plain!
Quiet Quixotic quests; quell quarrelling;
Rebuke red riot’s resonant rifle ring.
Slumber seems strangely sweet since silence smote
The threatening thunders throbbing through their throat.
Usurper! under uniform unwont
Vail valour’s vaguest venture, vainest vaunt.
Well wot we which were wise. War’s wildfire won
Ximenes, Xerxes, Xavier, Xenophon:
Yet you, ye yearning youth, your young years yield
Zuinglius’ zealous zest—Zinzendorf Zion-zealed.” | An Animal Alphabet. “Alligator, beetle, porcupine, whale,
Bobolink, panther, dragon-fly, snail,
Crocodile, monkey, buffalo, hare,
Dromedary, leopard, mud-turtle, bear,
Elephant, badger, pelican, ox,
Flying-fish, reindeer, anaconda, fox,
Guinea-pig, dolphin, antelope, goose,
Humming-bird, weasel, pickerel, moose,
Ibex, rhinoceros, owl, kangaroo,
Jackal, opossum, toad, cockatoo,
Kingfisher, peacock, anteater, bat,
Lizard, ichneumon, honey-bee, rat,
Mocking-bird, camel, grasshopper, mouse,
Nightingale, spider, cuttle-fish, grouse,
Ocelot, pheasant, wolverine, auk,
Periwininkle, ermine, katydid, hawk,
Quail, hippopotamus, armadillo, moth,
Rattlesnake, lion, woodpecker, sloth,
Salamander, goldfinch, angleworm, dog,
Tiger, flamingo, scorpion, frog,
Unicorn, ostrich, nautilus, mole,
Viper, gorilla, basilisk, sole,
Whippoorwill, beaver, centipede, fawn,
Xantho, canary, polliwog, swan,
Yellowhammer, eagle, hyena, lark,
Zebra, chameleon, butterfly, shark.” | Of affected alliteration as used by modern poets, there is a very good imitation of Swinburne’s style in Bayard Taylor’s “Diversions of the Echo Club,”[9] where Galahad chants “in rare and rhythmic redundancy, the viciousness of virtue:” The Lay of Macaroni. “As a wave that steals when the winds are stormy
From creek to cove of the curving shore,
Buffeted, blown, and broken before me,
Scattered and spread to its sunlit core.
As a dove that dips in the dark of maples,
To sip the sweetness of shelter and shade,
I kneel in thy nimbus, O noon of Naples,
I bathe in thine beauty, by thee embayed.
What is it ails me that I should sing of her?
The queen of the flashes and flames that were!
Yea, I have felt the shuddering sting of her,
The flower-sweet throat and the hands of her!
I have swayed and sung to the sound of her psalters,
I have danced her dances of dizzy delight,
I have hallowed mine hair to the horns of her altars,
Between the nightingale’s song and the night!
What is it, Queen, that now I should do for thee?
What is it now I should ask at thine hands?
Blow of the trumpets thine children once blew for thee
Break from thine feet and thine bosom the bands?
Nay, as sweet as the songs of Leone Leoni,
And gay as her garments of gem-sprinkled gold,
She gives me mellifluous, mild macaroni,
The choice of her children when cheeses are old!
And over me hover, as if by the wings of it,
Frayed in the furnace by flame that is fleet,
The curious coils and the strenuous strings of it,
Dropping, diminishing down, as I eat;
Lo! and the beautiful Queen, as she brings of it,
Lifts me the links of the limitless chain,
Bidding mine mouth chant the splendidest things of it,
Out of the wealth of my wonderful brain!
Behold! I have done it; my stomach is smitten
With sweets of the surfeit her hands have enrolled.
Italia, mine cheeks with thine kisses are bitten:
I am broken with beauty, stabbed, slaughtered, and sold!
No man of thy millions is more macaronied,
Save mighty Mazzini, than musical Me:
The souls of the Ages shall stand as astonied,
And faint in the flame I am fanning for thee!” | The above reminds of the anecdote told of Mrs. Crawford, who is said to have written one line of her “Kathleen Mavourneen,” on purpose to confound the Cockney warblers, who would sing it— | “The ’orn of the ’unter is ’eard on the ’ill;” | and again, in Moore’s “Ballad Stanzas”: “If there’s peace to be found in the world,
A ’eart that was ’umble might ’ope for it ’ere!” | Or— “Ha helephant heasily heats hat his hease
Hunder humbrageous humbrella trees!” | In the number of “Society” for April 23, 1881, there appeared several excellent specimens of alliterative verse, in compliance with a competition instituted by that paper for certain prizes—the selected verses all begin with the letter b: “Bloom, beauteous blossoms, budding bowers beneath!
Behold, Boreas’ bitter blast by brief
Bright beams becalmed; balmy breezes breathe,
Banishing blight, bring bliss beyond belief.
Build, bonny birds! By bending birchen bough,
By bush, by beech, by buttressed branches bare,
By bluebell-brightened bramble-brake; bestow
Bespeckled broods; but bold bad boys beware!
Babble, blithe brooklet! Barren borders breach,
Bathe broomy banks, bright buttercups bedew,
Briskly by bridge, by beetling bluff, by beach,
Beckoned by bravely bounding billows blue!”
—Sir Patrick Fells. | “Brimming brooklets bubble,
Buoyant breezes blow,
Baby-billows breaking
Bashfully below.
Blossom-burdened branches,
Briared banks betide,
Bright bewitching bluebells
Blooming bend beside.
But beyond be breakers,
Bare blasts brooding black,
Bitterly bemoaning
Broken barks borne back.”
—A. M. Morgan. | “Beverage by bibbers blest,
Balmy beer—bewitching bane,
British brewings, boasted best,
Blunting Bacchus’ brandied brain.
Bonny bumpers brimmed by beads,
Barley-born, bring blind relief,
Bubbling Bass-brewed Burton breed
Bland beguilement, bright but brief.
Bar-bought beer—bah! bitter brine—
Barrel-broaching braves, beware!
Bid Bavaria, benign,
Better brews bold Britons bear.”
—W. H. Evans. | Mr. Swinburne, of whose style there has been given an imitation, is not the only poet who is prone to alliteration—in fact, all poets are given more or less to it, though not to the same extent. When used excessively it is as disagreeable as any other excess, yet its occasional use unquestionably adds to grace and style. Pope says on this point in the following lines, which are also alliterative— “’Tis not enough no harshness gives offence,
The sound must seem an echo to the sense.
Soft is the strain when zephyr gently blows,
And the smooth stream in smoother numbers flows;
But when loud surges lash the sounding shore,
The hoarse rough verse should like the torrent roar.” | We find this example in Tennyson: “The splendour falls on castle walls,
And snowy summits old in story;
The long light shakes across the lakes,
And the wild cataract leaps in glory.
Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying;
Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.” | Crabbe also used this ornament profusely, as: “Then ’cross the bounding brook they make their way
O’er its rough bridge, and there behold the bay;
The ocean smiling to the fervid sun,
The waves that faintly fall and slowly run,
The ships at distance, and the boats at hand,
And now they walk upon the seaside sand,
Counting the number, and what kind they be,
Ships softly sinking in the sleepy sea.” | Take also this from Shelley’s “Ode to a Skylark:” “Teach me half the gladness
That my brain must know,
Such harmonious madness
From my lips would flow,
The world should listen then, as I am listening now.
·······
Waking or asleep,
Thou of death must deem
Things more true and deep
Than we mortals dream,
Or how could thy notes flow in such a crystal stream?” | In the numbers of “Truth” for November 1881, there appeared a variety of excellent examples of alphabetic verses in the course of a competition, and of these there follows one: A Yacht Alphabet. “A was the Anchor which held fast our ship;
B was the Boatswain, with whistle to lip;
C was the Captain, who took the command;
D was the Doctor, with physic at hand;
E was the Euchre we played on the quiet;
F was the Fellow who kicked up a riot;
G was the Girl who was always so ill;
H was the Hammock from which I’d a spill
I was the Iceberg we passed on our way;
J was the Jersey I wore all the day;
K was the Keel, which was stuck on the shore;
L was the Lubber we all thought a bore;
M was the Mate, no one better I’d wish;
N was the Net in which I caught a fish;
O was the Oar which I broke—’twas so weak;
P was the Pennon which flew at our peak;
Q was the Quoit which was made out of rope;
R was the Rat which would eat all our soap;
S was the Sailor who got very tight;
T was the Tempest which came on one night;
U was the Uproar the night of the storm;
V was the Vessel we spoke in due form;
W’s the Watch which the crew kept in turn;
X was Xantippe, whom each one did spurn;
Y was our Yacht, which flew through the foam;
Z was the Zany who wouldn’t leave home.” |
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