The Complete Works of Edgar Allan Poe - Edgar Allan Poe [1090]
Hear the far generations — how they crash,
From crag to crag, down the precipitous Time,
In multitudinous thunders that upstartle,
Aghast, the echoes from their cavernous lairs
In the visionary hills!
We have no doubt that our version has its faults — but it has, at least, the merit of consistency. Not only is a mountain mote poetical than a pair of stairs; but echoes are more appropriately typified as wild beasts than as seeds; and echoes and wild beasts agree better with a mountain than does a pair of stairs with the sowing of seeds — even admitting that these seeds be seeds of fire, and be sown broadcast “among the hills,’’ by a steep generation while in the act of tumbling down the stairs — that is to say, of coming down the stairs in too violent a hurry to be capable of sowing the seeds as accurately as all seeds should be sown; nor is the matter rendered any better for Miss Barrett, even if the construction of her sentence is to be understood as implying that the fiery seeds were sown, not immediately by the steep generations that tumbled down the stairs, but immediately, through the intervention of the “supernatural thunders” that were occasioned by the “steep generations” that tumbled down the stairs.
The poetess is not unfrequently guilty of repeating herself. The “thunder cloud veined by lightning” appears, for instance, on pages 34 of the first, and 228 of the second volume The “silver clash of wings” is heard at pages 53 of the first, and 269 of the second; and angel tears are discovered to be falling as well at page 17, as at the conclusion of “The Drama of Exile.” Steam, too, in the shape of Death’s White Horse, comes upon the ground, both at page 244 of the first and 179 of the second volume — and there are multitudinous other repetitions both of phrase and idea — but it is the excessive reiteration of pet words which is, perhaps, the most obtrusive of the minor errors of the poet. “Chrystalline,” “Apocalypse,” “foregone,” “evangel,” “ ‘ware,” “throb,” “level,” “loss,” and the musical term “minor,” are forever upon her lips. The chief favorites, however, are “down” and “leaning,” which are echoed and re-echoed not only ad infinitum, but in every whimsical variation of import. As Miss Barrett certainly cannot be aware of the extent of this mannerism, we will venture to call her attention to a few — comparatively a very few examples.
Pealing down the depths of Godhead —
And smiling down the stars —
Smiling down, as Venus down the waves —
Smiling down the steep world very purely —
Down the purple of this chamber —
Moving down the hidden depths of loving —
Cold the sun shines down the door —
Which brought angels down our talk —
Let your souls behind you lean gently moved —
But angels leaning from the golden seats —
And melancholy leaning out of heaven —
And I know the heavens are leaning down —
Then over the casement she leaneth —
Forbear that dream, too near to heaven it leaned
Thou, O sapient angel, leanest o’er —
Shapes of brightness overleap thee —
They are leaning their young heads —
Out of heaven shall o’er you lean —
While my spirit leans and reaches —
Leaning from my human —
When it leans out on the air —
etc. etc. etc.
In the matter of grammar, upon which the Edinburgh critic insists so pertinaciously, the author of “The Drama of Exile” seems to us even peculiarly without fault. The nature of her studies has, no doubt, imbued her with a very delicate instinct of constructive accuracy. The occasional use of phrases so questionable as “from whence” and the far-fetchedness and involution of which we have already spoken, are the only noticeable blemishes of an exceedingly chaste, vigorous and comprehensive style.
In her inattention to rhythm, Mrs. Barrett is guilty of an error that might have been fatal to her fame — that would have been fatal to any reputation less solidly founded than her own. We do not allude, so particularly, to her multiplicity of inadmissible rhymes. We would wish, to be sure, that she had not thought proper