SIR,—I hope you will finish “Emily.” The story I cannot at this stage anticipate. Some looseness of diction I have taken liberty to advert to. It wants a little more severity of style. There are too many prettinesses, but parts of the Poem are better than pretty, and I thank you for the perusal.
Perhaps you will favour me with a call while you stay.
| 1834 | FURTHER CRITICISMS | 935 |
Line 42. “The old abbaye” (if abbey was so spelt) I do not object to, because it does not seem your own language, but humoursomely adapted to the “how folks called it in those times.”
82. “Flares”! Think of the vulgarism “flare up;” let it be “burns.”
[In her pale countenance is blent The majesty of high intent With meekness by devotion lent, And when she bends in prayer Before the Virgin’s awful shrine,— The rapt enthusiast might deem The seraph of his brightest dream, Were meekly kneeling there.] |
[When first young Vernon’s flight she knew, The lady deemed the tale untrue.] |
[By pure intent and soul sincere Sustained and nerved, I will not fear Reproach, shame, scorn, the taunting jeer, And worse than all, a father’s sneer.]
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Reproach, and biting shame, and—worse Than all—the estranged father’s curse.
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177. “Stern and sear”? I see a meaning in it, but no word is good that startles one at first, and then you have to make it out: “drear,” perhaps. Then why “to minstrel’s glance”? “To fancy’s eye,” you would say, not “to fiddler’s eye.”
422. A knight thinks, he don’t “trow.”
424. “Mayhap” is vulgarish. Perchance.
464. “Sensation” is a philosophic prose word. Feeling.
[The hill, where ne’er rang
woodman’s stroke, Was clothed with elm and spreading oak, Through whose black boughs the moon’s
mild ray As hardly strove to win a way, As pity to a miser’s heart.] |
| 936 | LETTERS OF C. AND M. LAMB | July |
[Havock and Wrath, his maniac bride, Wheel o’er the conflict, &c] |
175. Bracy is a good rough vocative. No better suggests itself, unless Grim, Baron Grimm, or Grimoald, which is Saxon, or Grimbald! Tracy would obviate your objection [that the name Bracy occurs in Ivanhoe] but Bracy is stronger.
[The frown of night Conceals him, and bewrays their sight.] |
[The glinting moon’s half-shrouded ray.]
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[Then solemnly the monk did say, (The Abbot of Saint Mary’s gray,) The leman of a wanton youth Perhaps may gain her father’s ruth, But never on his injured
breast May lie, caressing and caressed. Bethink you of the vow you made When your light daughter, all distraught, From yonder slaughter-plain was brought, That if in some secluded cell She might till death securely dwell, The house of God should share her wealth.] |
I think there is so much of this kind of poetry, that it would not be very taking, but it is well worthy of pleasing a private circle. One blemish runs thro’, the perpetual accompaniment of natural images. Seasons of the year, times of day, phases of the moon, phenomena of flowers, are quite as much your dramatis personæ as the warriors and the ladies. This last part is as good as what precedes.
