1.

The night has a thousand eyes, And the day but one; Yet the light of the bright world dies With the dying sun.

The mind has a thousand eyes, And the heart but one; Yet the light of a whole life dies When love is gone.

--Francis W. Bourdillon.

2.

Laugh, and the world laughs with you, Weep, and you weep alone; For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth, But has trouble enough of its own.

--Ella Wheeler Wilc.o.x.

3.

Hear the robin in the rain, Not a note does he complain.

But he fills the storm refrain With music of his own.

--Charles c.o.ke Woode.

4.

The mistletoe hung in the castle hall, The holly branch shone on the old back wall And the baron's retainers are blithe and gay, And keeping their Christmas holiday.

--Thomas Haynes Bagley.

+114. Rhyme.+--Rhyme is a regular recurrence of similar sounds. In a broad sense, it may include sounds either terminal or not, but as here used it refers to terminal sounds.

Just as we expect a recurrence of accent in a line, so may we expect a recurrence of similar sounds at the end of certain lines of poetry. The interval between the rhymes may be of different lengths in different poems, but when the interval is once established, it should be followed throughout the poem. A rhyme out of place jars upon the rhythmic perfection of a stanza just as an accent out of place interferes with the rhythm of the verse.

Not only should the rhymes occur at expected places, but they should be the expected rhymes; that is, real rhymes. If we are expecting a word which will rhyme with _blossom_ and find _bosom_, or if we are expecting a rhyme for _breath_ and find _beneath_, the effect is unpleasant. The rhymes named above are based on spelling, while a real rhyme is based on sound. A correct rhyme should have precisely the same vowel sounds and the final consonants should be the same, but the initial consonant should be different. For example: _death, breath; home, roam; tongue, young; debating, relating_.

Notice the arrangement of the rhymes in the following selections:--

1.

My soul to-day is far away, Sailing the Vesuvian Bay; My winged boat, a bird afloat, Swims round the purple peaks remote.

--T. Buchanan Read.

2.

I come from haunts of coot and hern, I make a sudden sally, And sparkle out among the fern, To bicker down the valley.

By thirty hills I hurry down, Or slip between the ridges, By twenty thorps, a little town, And half a hundred bridges.

--Tennyson.

3.

I know it is a sin For me to sit and grin At him here; But the old three-cornered hat And the breeches, and all that, Are so queer!

--Holmes.

4.

The splendor falls on castle walls And snowy summits old in story; The long light shakes across the lakes And the wild cataract leaps in glory.

Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying; Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.

--Tennyson.

5.

Breathes there a man with soul so dead Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land!

Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned As home his footsteps he hath turned From wandering in a foreign strand!

If such there be, go mark him well: For him no minstrel raptures swell; High though his t.i.tles, proud his name, Boundless his wealth as wish can claim: Despite those t.i.tles, power, and pelf, The wretch concentered all in self, Living, shall forfeit fair renown And, doubly dying, shall go down To the vile dust from whence he sprung, Unwept, unhonored, and unsung.

--Scott.

+115. Blank Verse.+--When rhyme is omitted, we have blank verse. This is the most dignified of all kinds of verse, and is, therefore, appropriate for epic and dramatic poetry, where it is chiefly found. Most blank verse makes use of the iambic pentameter measure, but we find many exceptions.

Read the following examples of blank verse so as to show the rhythm:--

1.

So live, that when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan that moves To the pale realms of shade, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not like the quarry slave at night Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach the grave Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.

--Bryant.

2.

I stood upon the steps-- The last who left the door--and there I found The lady and her friend. The elder turned And with a cordial greeting took my hand, And rallied me on my forgetfulness.

Her eyes, her smile, her manner, and her voice.

Touched the quick springs of memory, and I spoke Her name. She was my mother's early friend Whose face I had not seen in all the years That had flown over us, since, from her door, I chased her lamb to where I found--myself.

--Holland.