Journeys Through Bookland Volume X Part 35

"O'er me, like a regal tent, Cloudy-ribbed, the sunset bent, Purple-curtained, fringed with gold, Looped in many a wind-swing fold."

_The Bugle Song_

(Volume VI, page 133)

Among the many charming lyrics which Tennyson has written, there are few more musical or more delicately beautiful than _The Bugle Song_. It may be appreciated better perhaps if we have knowledge of its setting. It occurs in _The Princess_, and has no immediate connection with anything that precedes or follows.

Three pairs of youthful lovers have been climbing above a lovely glade wherein is pitched the tent of the Princess. As they climbed, "Many a little hand glanced like a touch of sunshine on the rocks, and many a light foot shone like a jewel set in the dark crag." They wound about the cliffs, and out and in among the copses, striking off pieces of various rocks and chattering over their stony names, until they reached the summit and the sun grew broader as he set and threw his rosy light upon the heights above the glade. When in this poetic vein Tennyson has described the scene, he throws in _The Bugle Song_ without any comment.

We will understand it better if we paraphrase it briefly. Let us imagine ourselves standing on some peak and looking over a scene lighted by the setting sun.

"The splendor falls on castle walls And snowy summits old in story."

The light in long quivering beams is thrown across the lakes, and a wild cataract, made glorious by the golden light, leaps down a neighboring precipice. At this moment, somewhere in the distance we hear a bugle which sets wild echoes flying in every direction about us. As these echoes die away,

"O hark, O hear! how thin and clear, And thinner, clearer, farther going,"

there comes reflected to us from cliff and abrupt promontory the faint sound of the little horns of Fairyland. To them the purple glens reply in echoes gently dying into silence. O love, those echoes die away in the rich sky, and faint into nothingness on hill and field and river; but echoes of our thoughts, our feelings, of ourselves, roll on from one soul to another and grow in power forever and forever.

The music in the lyric is dependent upon the choice of words and the arrangement of words. The words are chosen because of their meaning and because of the sounds which compose them. They are so arranged that the sequence is melodious and that the accents fall where needed to perfect the meter. The first three lines are perfectly smooth and regular, but the fourth is an abrupt change; "And the wild cataract leaps in glory"

suggests power and strong interrupted motion. The last two lines of the stanza are somewhat irregular in meter, and the double repet.i.tion of the last word suggests the time elapsing while the echoes are flying back and forth between the surrounding cliffs, growing fainter and fainter with each repet.i.tion. In reading we show this: "Blow, bugle," is the original sound; we pause for the echoes to answer, "dying, dying, dying."

In the second stanza the poet has selected words in which the vowels have thin and delicate sounds:

"how thin and clear, And thinner, clearer, farther going!"

So soft are the echoes that they suggest to the poet the delicate refrain from the musical instruments of fairies, and he describes it in the poetic phrase,

"The horns of Elfland faintly blowing!"

The meter of the last stanza, which is more irregular than the others, we can indicate as follows:

O love' they die' in yon' rich sky'

They faint' on hill' or field' or riv' er: Our ech' oes roll' from soul' to soul', And grow' for ev' er and' for ev' er Blow, bu' gle, blow' --set' the wild ech' oes fly' ing, And an' swer, ech' oes, an' swer, dy' ing, dy' ing, dy' ing.

In the next to the last line there are five feet and one added syllable, if we consider that the pause which we naturally make before the word _set_ is equivalent to a syllable. In the last line there are six feet with an added syllable. This additional foot which appears in the last line of every stanza is introduced to imitate the lingering death of the echoes.

After this study of the poem it should be read several times aloud in an effort to bring out the music; the first stanza in the pitch of ordinary conversation, with force in the fourth line and lingering intonations in the last line. The pitch of the second stanza should be higher, and it will be easily attained because of the predominance of the thin vowels.

The third stanza calls for a pitch lower than the first and a slowness and solemnity of movement quite in contrast to the moderate rate of the first and the liveliness and gaiety of the second. It will be seen in these readings that there is an overlying melody in the stanzas, quite distinct from the rhythm that depends upon the meter, and that in the reading the meter naturally falls subservient to the melody of the phrases. In fact, in a poem of this kind the meter should be forgotten in the reading, which should give itself wholly to bringing out the meaning expressively, and to making the voice harmonize with the rich music of the lines.

An a.n.a.lysis of _The Bugle Song_ will seem superfluous to the cultivated reader, but if these suggestions help the learner to see something new, to feel more acutely, to realize beauty more abundantly, their purpose is accomplished.

_The Petrified Fern_

(Volume VII, page 77)

Some day when you want an interesting and delightful nature lesson that is a little out of the ordinary, get, if you can, a fossil fern. If you are in the city, doubtless you can get one from the museum, or, better yet, you may find that among your pupils there is someone who has such a specimen carefully treasured away. In some localities where the limestone rock comes to the surface, especially in the coal measures, these petrified ferns are very numerous. Show this to the cla.s.s and get them all interested in it.

If you cannot get a specimen to use, you can find a picture in the encyclopedia or geology, or you can tell the pupils how in some places it is possible to pick up from among the rocks on the surface of the ground oblong pieces perhaps a half inch thick, in which, when they are split open, you can see the impression of a fern, every vein showing plainly and looking as clear in the dull gray as it showed when alive in its green dress.

Tell the story of the fern something after this fashion:

"Hundreds and hundreds of years ago, so many years, in fact, that none of us can tell how many, somewhere in a valley, there grew a beautiful little fern, green and slender. It was as tender and delicate as the ones you can find in the woods now, and grew in just such a shady place.

When the breezes crept down under the trees they waved the fern gracefully about so that it gently touched the tall rushes that grew above it and cast little shadows on the moss at its feet. Now and then a playful sunbeam darted through the crevices in the leaves and found the fern, and at night drops of dew stole silently in and made a glistening crown upon its head. But there were no children then to find it. It was long, long ago, when the earth was young, and nowhere on its broad surface was a single human child.

"Out in the silent sea fishes larger than any that can be found now were swimming about. Across the plains of the earth animals of wonderful shapes and enormous size stalked clumsily and found their way into stately forests. No man ever saw growing such trees as waved their giant branches over the earth, for then Nature made things on a grander scale than she does now. The little fern, however, was wild and simple, and lived in its home unnoticed and uncared for by any of the great creatures or the mighty trees. Still it grew on modestly in its own sweet way, spreading its fronds and becoming more beautiful every day.

"Then suddenly one day the earth heaved up its mighty rocks and threw them about in every direction. The strong currents of the ocean broke loose and flooded over the land. They drowned the animals, moved the plain, tore down the haughty woods and cast the great trunks about like straw. They broke the little fern from its slender stalk, and burying it deep in soft moist clay, hid it safely away.

"Many, many long centuries have pa.s.sed since the day the useless little fern was lost. Millions of human beings have come upon the earth, have lived and been happy, have suffered, pa.s.sed away, and have been forgotten. The soft, moist clay that clasped the fern hardened into rock and kept safely in its strong prison the delicate little frond.

"Then one day, not long ago, a thoughtful man studying Nature's secrets far and wide found up in a valley where a stream had worn a deep fissure, a queer little rock. When he looked at it, he saw running over it a strange design, as though some fairy with its magic pencil had drawn the outline of a fern with every vein distinct, showing in every line the life of the long-lost plant. It was the fern I told you about.

"Isn't it strange that so delicate a thing as a fern could be kept clear and fine through all those thousands of years when the earth was changing and growing, and then finally be thrown up where a man could find it and read its whole history? The poet, Mary Bolles Branch, saw the little fern and wrote the beautiful lines which I now want to read to you."

(Here read the poem, _The Petrified Fern_, found in _Journeys_, Volume VII, page 77.)

There are very few words or expressions in the poem that will require any explanation. At the end of the first stanza the phrase "keeping holiday" means that as there were no human beings on the earth, there was no real work being done.

At the end of the first line in the second stanza the word _main_ is an old term that means _ocean_.

The last two lines of the third stanza are meant to show how different life has been on the planet since man came. Until he appeared there was no real agony; there was pain, for animals can suffer, but it takes a mind and soul to know agony. Man cannot live except with suffering and at a bitter cost.

Until the last two lines of the fourth stanza are reached the poem is merely a beautiful and musical narrative. The last two lines are the thought that comes to the poet when she considers the history of the little fern. It is thinking such thoughts as this that make the poet different from ordinary men. You and I might see the impression of the fern and think it beautiful, but its beauty would not suggest to us the comforting idea that

* * * "G.o.d hides some souls away Sweetly to surprise us, the last day."

Our own poet Longfellow, in _The Builders_, voices a similar thought when he says:

"Nothing useless is, or low; Each thing in its place is best; And what seems but idle show Strengthens and supports the rest."

After you have presented these thoughts, read the poem again to the children. Call attention to its musical structure, its simplicity, the beauty of its expressions, and then read it a third time. It is one of those beautiful things which may well be committed to memory.

It will be found very helpful, too, for the children to write the story in prose and try to bring out the meaning. Let them use freely the words of the poem, but a different arrangement of words, so that there shall be left no trace of rhyme or meter in their prose.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ROBERT SOUTHEY WILLIAM COWPER ROBERT BURNS LORD BYRON JOHN KEATS PERCY BYSSHE Sh.e.l.lEY SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE]

_The Forsaken Merman_

(Volume VII, page 180)

One of the satisfactory poems for study in the middle years of school life is the one whose name heads this paragraph. It is a great favorite with most children who know it, but it has not found its way largely into school use. For both of these reasons it is worthy of study.

I. _Preparation and General Plan._ Let the children read in turn, each taking one stanza, and if a second reading seems desirable let them exchange stanzas so that each will have a part new to himself. Be sure to have a final reading, by yourself or by the best reader among the children, which shall be continuous and without interruption; otherwise the beautiful unity of idea and the relation of the different parts will be overlooked.

II. _Words and Phrases and Sentences._ It is well to begin with the study sentence by sentence. See that the meaning is clear. The following suggestions may be of a.s.sistance: