letters on literature(关于文学)-第19节
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there is plenty of pretty verse in the Anthology。 What you need for
verses of society is a period in which the social equality is recognized； and
in which people are peaceable enough and comfortable enough to 〃play
with light loves in the portal〃 of the Temple of Hymen； without any very
definite intentions； on either part； of going inside and getting married。
Perhaps we should not expect vers de societe from the Crusaders； who
were not peaceable； and who were very earnest indeed； in love or war。
But as soon as you get a Court； and Court life； in France； even though the
times were warlike； then ladies are lauded in artful strains； and the lyre is
struck leviore plectro。 Charles d'Orleans； that captive and captivating
prince； wrote thousands of rondeaux； even before his time a gallant
company of gentlemen composed the Livre des Cent Ballades； one
hundred ballades； practically unreadable by modern men。 Then came
Clement Marot； with his gay and rather empty fluency； and Ronsard； with
his mythological compliments； his sonnets； decked with roses； and led like
lambs to the altar of Helen or Cassandra。 A few； here and there； of his
pieces are lighter； more pleasant； and； in a quiet way； immortal； such as the
verses to his 〃fair flower of Anjou；〃 a beauty of fifteen。 So they ran on；
in France； till Voiture's time； and Sarrazin's with his merry ballade of an
elopement； and Corneille's proud and graceful stanzas to Marquise de
Gorla。
But verses in the English tongue are more worthy of our attention。 Mr。
Locker begins his collection of them； Lyra Elegantiarum （no longer a very
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rare book in England）； as far back as Skelton's age； and as Thomas Wyat's；
and Sidney's； but those things； the lighter lyrics of that day； are rather
songs than poems； and probably were all meant to be sung to the virginals
by our musical ancestors。
〃Drink to me only with thine eyes；〃 says the great Ben Jonson； or sings
it rather。 The words； that he versified out of the Greek prose of
Philostratus； cannot be thought of without the tune。 It is the same with
Carew's 〃He that loves a rosy cheek；〃 or with 〃Roses； their sharp spines
being gone。〃 The lighter poetry of Carew's day is all powdered with gold
dust； like the court ladies' hair； and is crowned and diapered with roses；
and heavy with fabulous scents from the Arabian phoenix's nest。 Little
Cupids flutter and twitter here and there among the boughs； as in that feast
of Adonis which Ptolemy's sister gave in Alexandria； or as in Eisen's
vignettes for Dorat's Baisers：
〃Ask me no more whither do stray The golden atoms of the day； For
in pure love did Heaven prepare These powders to enrich your hair。〃
It would be affectation； Gifted； if you rhymed in that fashion for the
lady of your love； and presented her； as it were； with cosmical cosmetics；
and compliments drawn from the starry spaces and deserts； from skies；
phoenixes； and angels。 But it was a natural and pretty way of writing
when Thomas Carew was young。 I prefer Herrick the inexhaustible in
dainties； Herrick； that parson…pagan； with the soul of a Greek of the
Anthology； and a cure of souls （Heaven help them！） in Devonshire。 His
Julia is the least mortal of these 〃daughters of dreams and of stories；〃
whom poets celebrate； she has a certain opulence of flesh and blood； a
cheek like a damask rose； and 〃rich eyes；〃 like Keats's lady； no vaporous
Beatrice； she； but a handsome English wench； with
〃A cuff neglectful and thereby Ribbons to flow confusedly； A
winning wave； deserving note In the tempestuous petticoat。〃
Then Suckling strikes up a reckless military air； a warrior he is who
has seen many a siege of heartshearts that capitulated； or held out like
Troy…town； and the impatient assailant whistles：
〃Quit； quit； for shame： this will not move； This cannot take her。 If
of herself she will not love； Nothing can make her … The devil take her。〃
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So he rides away； curling his moustache； hiding his defeat in a big
inimitable swagger。 It is a pleasanter piece in which Suckling； after a
long leaguer of a lady's heart； finds that Captain honour is governor of the
place； and surrender hopeless。 So he departs with a salute：
〃March； march （quoth I）； the word straight give； Let's lose no time
but leave her： That giant upon air will live； And hold it out for ever。〃
Lovelace is even a better type in his rare good things of the military
amorist and poet。 What apology of Lauzun's； or Bussy Rabutin's for
faithlessness could equal this？ …
〃Why dost thou say I am forsworn； Since thine I vowed to be？ Lady；
it is already morn； It was last night I swore to thee That fond
impossibility。〃
Has 〃In Memoriam〃 nobler numbers than the poem； from exile； to
Lucasta？ …
〃Our Faith and troth All time and space controls； Above the highest
sphere we meet； Unseen； unknown； and greet as angels greet。〃
How comes it that in the fierce fighting days the soldiers were so
tuneful； and such scholars？ In the first edition of Lovelace's 〃Lucasta〃
there is a flock of recommendatory verses； English； Latin； even Greek； by
the gallant Colonel's mess…mates and comrades。 What guardsman now
writes like Lovelace； and how many of his friends could applaud him in
Greek？ You； my Gifted； are happily of a pacific disposition； and tune a
gentle lyre。 Is it not lucky for swains like you that the soldiers have quite
forsworn sonneting？ When a man was a rake； a poet； a warrior； all in one；
what chance had a peaceful minor poet like you or me； Gifted； against his
charms？ Sedley； when sober； must have been an invincible rival
invincible； above all； when he pretended constancy：
〃Why then should I seek further store； And still make love anew？
When change itself can give no more 'Tis easy to be true。〃
How infinitely more delightful； musical； and captivating are those
Cavalier singerstheir numbers flowing fair； like their scented lovelocks
than the prudish society poets of Pope's day。 〃The Rape of the Lock〃 is
very witty； but through it all don't you mark the sneer of the contemptuous；
unmanly little wit； the crooked dandy？ He jibes among his compliments；
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and I do not wonder that Mistress Arabella Fermor was not conciliated by
his long…drawn cleverness and polished lines。 I prefer Sackville's verses
〃written at sea the night before an engagement〃：
〃To all you ladies now on land We men at sea indite。〃
They are all alike； the wits of Queen Anne； and even Matt Prior；
when he writes of ladies occasionally； writes down to them； or at least
glances up very saucily from his position on his knees。 But Prior is the
best of them； and the most candid：
〃I court others in versebut I love thee in prose； And they have my
whimsies； but thou hast my heart。〃
Yes； Prior is probably the greatest of all who dally with the light lyre
which thrills to the wings of fleeting Lovesthe greatest English writer of
vers de societe； the most gay； frank； good… humoured； tuneful and
engaging。
Landor is great； too； but in another kind； the bees that hummed over
Plato's cradle have left their honey on his lips； none but Landor； or a Greek；
could have written this on Catullus：
〃Tell me not what too well I know About the Bard of Sirmio … Yes； in
Thalia's son Such stains there are as when a Grace Sprinkles another's
laughing face With nectar； and runs on！〃
That is poetr
