The Poetical Works of Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton, Bart. M.P Part 34

that is, the Forked Hill, _par emphasis_,--Parna.s.sus.

The use of the capital in these instances seems to me warranted by common sense, and the best authorities in the minor niceties of our language.

With regard to the other point referred to in the omitted note, I would observe, that I have deliberately used the freest licence in the rapid change of tense from past to present, or _vice versa_; as a privilege essential to all ease, spirit, force, and variety, in narrative poetry; and warranted by the uniform practice of Pope, Dryden, and Milton. I subjoin a few examples:--

"So _prayed_ they, innocent, and to their thoughts Firm peace recover'd soon and wonted calm; On to their morning's rural work they _haste_, Among sweet dews and flowers, where any row Of fruit-trees over-woody reach'd too far Their pamper'd boughs, and needed hands to check Fruitless embraces; or they _led_ the vine To wed the elm."

MILTON'S _Paradise Lost_, Book v., from line 209 to 216.

Here the tense changes three times.

Again:--

"Straight _knew_ him all the bands Of angels under watch, and to his state And to his message high in honour _rise_, For on some message high they _guess'd_ him bound."

_Ibid._, Book v., from line 288 to 291.

"Thus while he spoke, the virgin from the ground _Upstarted_ fresh; already closed the wound; And unconcern'd for all she felt before, _Precipitates_ her flight along the sh.o.r.e: The h.e.l.l-hounds as ungorged with flesh and blood _Pursue_ their prey and seek their wonted food; The fiend remounts his courser, mends his pace, And all the vision _vanish'd_ from the place."

DRYDEN'S _Theod. and Honor_.

Pope--not without reason esteemed for verbal correctness and precision--far exceeds all in his lavish use of this privilege, as one or two quotations will amply suffice to show.

"She said, and to the steeds approaching near _Drew_ from his seat the martial charioteer; The vigorous Power[E] the trembling car _ascends_, Fierce for revenge, and Diomed _attends_: The groaning axle _bent_ beneath the load," &c.

POPE'S _Iliad_, Book v.

"Pierced through the shoulder first Decopis _fell_, Next Eunomus and Thoon _sunk_ to h.e.l.l.

Chersidamas, beneath the navel thrust, _Falls_ p.r.o.ne to earth, and _grasps_ the b.l.o.o.d.y dust; Cherops, the son of Hipposus, _was_ near; Ulysses reach'd him with the fatal spear; But to his aid his brother Socus _flies_, Socus the brave, the generous, and the wise; Near as he _drew_ the warrior thus _began_," &c.--_Ibid._

"Behind, unnumber'd mult.i.tudes _attend_ To flank the navy and the sh.o.r.es defend.

Full on the front the pressing Trojans bear, And Hector first _came_ towering to the war.

Phoebus himself the rushing battle _led_, A veil of clouds involves his radiant head-- The Greeks _expect_ the shock; the clamours rise From different parts and _mingle_ in the skies Dire _was_ the hiss of darts by heaven flung, And arrows, leaping from the bowstring, _sung_: These _drink_ the life of generous warrior slain-- Those guiltless _fall_ and _thirst_ for blood in vain."

POPE'S _Odyssey_.

In the last quotation, brief as it is, the tense changes six times.

[E] In the corrupt and thoughtless mode of printing now in vogue, Power is of course printed with a small p, and the sense of the clearest of all English poets instantly becomes obscure.

"The vigorous power the trembling car ascends."

It is not till one has read the line twice over that one perceives "the power" means "the G.o.d," which, when printed "the Power," is obvious at a glance.

I ask indulgence of the reader if I take this occasion to add a very short comment upon three objections to this poem which have been brought under my notice:--

1--that it contains too much learning; 2--that it abounds too much with cla.s.sical allusions; 3--that it indulges in rare words or archaisms.

I wish I could plead guilty to the honourable charge that it contains too much learning. A distinguished critic has justly observed, that the greatest obstacle which the modern writer attempting an Epic would have to encounter, would be, in his utter impossibility to attain the requisite learning. For an Epic ought to embody the whole learning of the period in which it is composed; and in the present age that is beyond the aspiration of the most erudite scholar or the profoundest philosopher. Still, any attempt at an Heroic Poem must at least comprise all the knowledge which the nature of the subject will admit, and we cannot but observe that the greatest narrative poems are those in which the greatest amount of learning is contained. Beyond all comparison the most learned poems that exist, in reference to the age in which they are composed, are the "Iliad" and "Odyssey;" next to them, the "Paradise Lost;" next to that, the "aeneid," in which the chief charm of the six latter books is in that "exquisite erudition," which Muller so discriminately admires in Virgil; and after these, in point of learning, come perhaps the "Divine Comedy," and the "Fairy Queen." So that I have only to regret my deficiency of learning, rather than to apologize for the excess of it.

With regard to the cla.s.sical allusions which I have permitted myself, I might shelter my practice under the mantles of our great masters in heroic song--Milton and Spenser; but in fact such admixture of the Cla.s.sic with the Gothic muse is so essentially the characteristic of the minstrelsy of the middle ages, that without a liberal use of the same combination, I could not have preserved the colouring proper to my subject. And, indeed, I think the advice which one of the most elegant of modern critics has given to the painter, is equally applicable to the poet:--

"Non te igitur lateant antiqua numismata, gemmae, Quodque refert specie veterum post saecula mentem; Splendidior quippe ex illis a.s.surgit imago Magnaque se rerum facies aperit meditanti."[F]

[F] DU FRESNOY _de Arte Graphica_.

Lastly, the moderate use of archaisms has always been deemed admissible in a narrative poem of some length, and rather perhaps an ornament than a defect, where the action of the poem is laid in remote antiquity. And I may add that not only the revival of old, but the invention of new words, if sparingly resorted to, is among the least contestable of poetic licences--a licence freely recognized by Horace, elaborately maintained by Dryden, and tacitly sanctioned, age after age, by the practice of every poet by whom our language has been enriched. I have certainly not abused either of these privileges, for while I have only adopted three new words of foreign derivation, I do not think there are a dozen words in the whole poem which can be considered archaisms: and in the three or four instances in which such words are not to be found in Milton, Shakspere, or Spenser, they are taken from the Saxon element of our language, and are still popularly used in the northern parts of the island, in which that Saxon element is more tenaciously preserved.

If these matters do not seem to the reader of much importance, in reference to a poem of this design and extent, I will own to him confidentially, that I incline to his opinion. But I have met with no objections to the general composition of this work, more serious than those to which the above remarks are intended to reply. Some objections to special lines or stanzas which appeared to me prompted by a juster criticism, or which occurred to myself in reperusal, I have carefully endeavoured in this edition to remove.

BOOK I.

ARGUMENT.

Opening--King Arthur keeps holiday in the Vale of Carduel--Pastimes-- Arthur's sentiments on life, love, and mortal change--The strange apparition--The King follows the Phantom into the forest--His return-- The discomfiture of his knights--the Court disperses--Night--The restless King ascends his battlements--His soliloquy--He is attracted by the light from the Wizard's tower--Merlin described--The King's narrative--The Enchanter's invocation--Morning--The Tilt-yard--Sports, knightly and national--Merlin's address to Arthur--The Three Labours enjoined--Arthur departs from Carduel--His absence explained by Merlin to the Council--Description of Arthur's three friends, Caradoc, Gawaine, and Lancelot--The especial love between Arthur and the last--Lancelot encounters Arthur--The parting of the friends.

Our land's first legends, love and knightly deeds, 1 And wondrous Merlin, and his wandering King, The triple labour, and the glorious meeds Sought in the world of Fable-land, I sing: Go forth, O Song, amidst the banks of old, And glide translucent over sands of gold.

Now is the time when, after sparkling showers, 2 Her starry wreaths the virgin jasmine weaves; Now murmurous bees return with sunny hours; And light wings rustic quick through glinting leaves; Music in every bough; on mead and lawn May lifts her fragrant altars to the dawn.

Now life, with every moment, seems to start 3 In air, in wave, on earth--above, below; And o'er her new-born children, Nature's heart Heaves with the gladness mothers only know; On poet times the month of poets shone-- May deck'd the world, and Arthur fill'd the throne.

Hard by a stream, amidst a pleasant vale 4 King Arthur held his careless holiday:-- The stream was blithe with many a silken sail, The vale with many a proud pavilion gay; While Cymri's dragon, from the Roman's hold,[1]

Spread with calm wing o'er Carduel's domes of gold.

Dark, to the right, thick forests mantled o'er 5 A gradual mountain sloping to the plain; Whose gloom but lent to light a charm the more, As pleasure pleases most when neighbouring pain; And all our human joys most sweet and holy, Sport in the shadows cast from Melancholy.

Below that mount, along the glossy sward 6 Were gentle groups, discoursing gentle things; Or listening idly where the skilful bard Woke the sweet tempest of melodious strings; Or whispering love--I ween, less idle they, For love's the honey in the flowers of May.

Some plied in l.u.s.ty race the glist'ning oar; 7 Some, noiseless, snared the silver-scaled prey; Some wreathed the dance along the level sh.o.r.e; And each was happy in his chosen way.

Not by one shaft is Care, the hydra kill'd, So Mirth, determined, had his quiver fill'd.

Bright 'mid his blooming Court, like royal Morn 8 Girt with the Hours that lead the jocund Spring, When to its smile delight and flowers are born, And clouds are rose-hued,--shone the Cymrian King.

Above that group, o'er-arch'd from tree to tree, Thick garlands hung their odorous canopy;

And in the midst of that delicious shade 9 Up sprang a sparkling fountain, silver-voiced, And the bee murmur'd and the breezes play'd: In their gay youth, the youth of May rejoiced-- And they in hers--as though that leafy hall Chimed the heart's laughter with the fountain's fall.

Propped on his easy arm, the King reclined, 10 And glancing gaily round the ring, quoth he-- "'Man,' say our sages, 'hath a fickle mind, And pleasures pall, if long enjoyed they be.'

But I, methinks, like this soft summer-day, 'Mid blooms and sweets could wear the hours away;--

"Feel, in the eyes of Love, a cloudless sun, 11 Taste, in the breath of Love, eternal spring; Could age but keep the joys that youth has won, The human heart would fold its idle wing!

If change there be in Fate and Nature's plan, Wherefore blame us?--it is in Time, not Man."