Thought the Paraclete
As some bright archangel in vision flies Page-582
Moon of
Two Hemispheres Page-583
Rose of
God Page-584 |
NOTES Page-585
short unless they are heavily weighted with
consonants. But on this last point no fixed rule can be given; in each case the
ear must be the judge. or again,
Page-586
thĭs mōst
ēxcĕl|lĕnt cānŏpў,
| thĕ āīr, lōōk yoŭ, | thĭs brāve
A more regular quantitative metre can be of
two kinds. There could be lines all with the same metrical arrangement
following each other without break or else alternating lines with a different
arrangement for each, forming a stanza, – as in the practice of accentual metres. But there could also be an arrangement in strophe and antistrophe as in
the Grtek chorus. In Thought the Paraclete the first rule is followed; all the lines are
on the same model. The metre of this poem has a certain rhythmic similarity to
the Latin hendecasyllable which runs ¯ ¯ | ¯ ˘ ˘ | ¯ ˘ | ¯ ˘ | ˘˘,e.g.
But here the metre runs
- ˘ |
- - | – ˘ ˘ | – ˘ | – - ˘ | ; a trochee
1Suns may set and come again; Page-587
is transferred from the closing flow of
trochees to the beginning of the line, the spondee and dactyl are pushed into
the middle, the last syllable of the closing trochee is most often dropped
altogether. Classical metres cannot always with success be taken over just as
they are into the English rhythm; often some modifications are needed to make
them more malleable. Page-588 |
Musa
Spiritus Page-589
His calm pure dawns and His noons of force.
Krishna
|
The World Game Page-591
To our motion the stars whirl in the swing of
Time, our oneness is Nature’s rest. Page-592
Once again thou hast climbed,
0 moon, like a white fire on the glimmering edge,
Dumbly
blithe, shuddering, the air is filled from thy cup of pale mysterious wine: Page-593 A disk of a greater Ray that shall come, a white-fire rapture and girdling rose of love,
Timelessly thou driftest,
0 sliver boat that set out from the far Unknown,
O pall of
black Night Pagr – 594
A Strong Son of Lightning
Rushing from Troy like a
cloud on the plains the Trofans thundered,
|