Elements of Criticism, Volume II.Kames, Henry Home, Lord
Philosophy
Elements of Criticism, Volume II.
Kames, Henry Home, Lord
Criticism; Literary style
Hitherto I have considered the advantage of laying aside rhyme, with
respect to that superior power of expression which verse acquires
thereby. But this is not the only advantage of blank verse. It has
another not less signal of its kind; and that is, of a more extensive
and more complete melody. Its music is not, like that of rhyme,
confined to a single couplet; but takes in a great compass, so as in
some measure to rival music properly so called. The intervals betwixt
its cadences may be long or short at pleasure; and, by this means, its
modulation, with respect both to richness and variety, is superior far
to that of rhyme; and superior even to that of the Greek and Latin
Hexameter. Of this observation no person can doubt who is acquainted
with the _Paradise Lost_. In that work there are indeed many careless
lines; but at every turn it shines out in the richest melody as well as
in the sublimest sentiments. Take the following specimen.
Now Morn her rosy steps in th’ eastern clime
Advancing, sow’d the earth with orient pearl,
When Adam wak’d, so custom’d, for his sleep
Was aëry light from pure digestion bred,
And temp’rate vapours bland, which th’ only sound
Of leaves and fuming rills, Aurora’s fan,
Lightly dispers’d, and the shrill matin song
Of birds on every bough; so much the more
His wonder was to find unwaken’d Eve
With tresses discompos’d, and glowing cheek,
As through unquiet rest: he on his side
Leaning half-rais’d, with looks of cordial love
Hung over her enamour’d, and beheld
Beauty, which, whether waking or asleep,
Shot forth peculiar graces; then with voice
Mild, as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes,
Her hand soft touching, whisper’d thus. Awake
My fairest, my espous’d, my latest found,
Heav’n’s last best gift, my ever new delight,
Awake; the morning shines, and the fresh field
Calls us; we lose the prime, to mark how spring
Our tended plants, how blows the citron grove,
What drops the myrrh, and what the balmy reed,
How Nature paints her colours, how the bee
Sits on the bloom extracting liquid sweet.
_Book 1. l. 1_.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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