The Poems of John Byrom :: :: University of Virginia Library

The Art of English Poetry, I find,
At present, Jenkins, occupies your Mind;
You have a vast Desire to it, you say,
And want my Help to put you in the Way;

395

Want me to tell what Books you are to read;
How to begin, at first, and how proceed.

Now, tho' in Short-hand I may well pretend
To give Directions, my Salopian Friend,
As having had the Honour to impart
Its full Perfection to that English Art,—

396

Which you, and many a sagacious Youth,
By sure Experience, know to be the Truth;—
Yet how in Matters of poetic Reach,
Untaught myself, shall I pretend to teach?
Well I remember, that my younger Breast
The same Desire, that reigns in yours, possess'd.
Me, Numbers flowing to a measur'd Time,—
Me, sweetest Grace of English Verse, the Rime,—
Choice Epithet, and smooth descriptive Line,
Conspiring all to finish one Design,
Smit with Delight, full negligent of Prose,
And, thro' mere liking, tempted to compose;
To rate, according to my Schoolboy Schemes,
Ten Lines in Verse worth half a hundred Themes.

Without one living Person to consult,
The Years went on, from tender to adult;
And, as for poring to consult the dead,
Truly, that never came into my Head.
“Not Homer, Virgil, Horace?” if you ask,
Why, yes, the Rod would send me to the Task.
But all the Consultation that came out,
Had its own End: to scape the whipping Bout.

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Beside, if Subject wanted to be sung,
The Muse was question'd in the vulgar Tongue:
Who, if she could not answer well in that,
Would hardly mend herself in Greek or Lat.

But poor Encouragement for you to hope,
That my Instructions will attain the Scope!
Yet, since the Help which you are pleas'd to seek,
Does not concern the Latin or the Greek,—
In ancient Classics tho' but little read,
I know, and care as little, what they said—
In plain, familiar English for your sake
This untried Province I will undertake,
And Rules for Verse as readily instil,
As if Ability had equall'd Will;
Fair Stipulation first on either Side,
In Form, and Manner, here annex'd, implied.

Conditions are: that, if the Muse should err,
You gave th' Occasion, and must pardon her,
If aught occur, on sitting down to try,
That may deserve the casting of your Eye;
If Hint arise, in any Sort, to suit
With your Intent—you shall be welcome to't.

You may remember, when you first began
To learn the truly tachygraphic Plan,
How tracing, Step by Step, the simplest Line,
We grounded, rais'd, and finish'd our Design;

398

How we examin'd Language and its Pow'rs,
And then adjusted ev'ry Stroke to ours;
Whilst the same Method, follow'd in the main,
Made other Matters more concisely plain;
Made English, French, Italian, Hebrew too,
Appear the clearest in a Short-hand View,—
Which, in all Points where Language was concern'd,
Explain'd how best, and soonest, they were learn'd;
Shew'd where to end, as well as to commence:
At that one, central, point of View—Good Sense.

There fix your Eye, then, if you mean to write
Verse that is fit to read or to recite!
A Poet, slighting this initial Rule,
Is but, at best, an artificial Fool;
Of learning Verse quite needless the Expense:
Plain Prose might serve to show his want of Sense.

But you who have it, and would give to Prose
The Grace that English Poetry bestows,
Consider how the Short-hand Scheme, in Part,
May be applied to the poetic Art.
To write or read in that, you understood,
There must be Sense, and Sense that must be good;

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The more that Words were proper and exact
In Book or Speech, the more we could contract.
The Hand, you know, became a kind of Test,
In this Respect, what Writings were the best.
If incorrect the Language or absurd,
It cost the fuller noting of each Word;
But, when more apt, grammatical, and true,
Full oft a Letter for a Word would do.

Form to yourself, directly, the Design
Of so constructing a poetic Line,
That it may cost in writing it our Way
The least Expense of Ink, as one may say;
That Word, or Phrase, in Measure that you please,
May come the nearest to prosaic Ease!
You'll see the Cases from the Rule exempt,
Whilst it directs, in gen'ral, your Attempt,
How Word or Sentence you may oft transpose,
And Verse be still as natural as Prose.

“As natural”: for, tho' we call it Art,
The Worth in Poetry is Nature's Part.
Here “Artis est celare artem”; here

400

Art must be hid, that Nature may appear;
So lie conceal'd behind the shining Glass,
That Nature's Image may the best repass;
All o'er, indeed, must Quicksilver be spread,
And all its useless Motion must lie dead.

The Art of Swimming—next, that comes to Mind—
Perhaps may show you what is here design'd.
A young Beginner struggling you may see
With all his Might—'twas so at least with me—
With all the Splutter of his Limbs to swim,
And keep his Brains and Breath above the Brim;
Whilst, the more eager he to gain his Art,
The sooner ev'ry Limb is thrown athwart;
Till by Degrees he learns with less Ado
And gentler Stroke the Purpose to pursue.
To Nature's Motions poising he conforms,
Nor puts th' unwilling Element in Storms;
Taught, as the smoother Wave shall yield, to yield,
And rule the Surface of the wat'ry Field.

Soon as you can, then, learn to lay aside
All wild Endeavours against Nature's Tide;
Which Way she bends take Notice, and comply;
The Verse that will not, burn, or throw it by!
Maybe, the Subject does not suit your Skill,—
Dismiss, dismiss, till one comes up that will!
If Sense, if Nature succour not the Theme,
All Art and Skill is Strife against the Stream;

401

If they assist to waft your Verses o'er,
Stretch forward, and possess the wish'd-for Shore.

'Twas from a certain native Sense and Wit
That came “Poeta nascitur, non fit,”—
Adage forbidding any riming Blade,
That was not born a Poet, to be made.
For, if to sing, in Music, or to hear,
Require a natural good Voice or Ear,—
If Art and Rule but awkwardly advance,
Without a previous, pliant Shape, to dance:
Well may the Muse, before she can inspire,
Versatile Force of supple Wit require.

Of this if Critics should demand a Sign,
Strong Inclination should be one of mine.
A fair Desire is seldom known to spring,
But where there is some Fitness for the Thing.
Tho' by untoward Circumstances check'd,
There lies a Genius, but without Effect.
Many a fine Plant, uncultivated, dies,
And worse, with more Encouragement, may rise.
“Des Mecænates,”—what had Maro been,
Had not Mecænas rais'd the Muse within?

Yours, honest Pupil, when you are inclin'd,
May versify, according to your Mind.

402

She has no Reason, to no Patron tied,
To prostitute her Favours to a Side;
Nor to false Taste, if any such the Age
Shall run into, to sacrifice her Page;
Much less, with any vicious Topic vile,
An Art of chaster Offspring to defile.
All Verse unworthy of an English Muse
Of Short-hand Race she may, and must, refuse.

Ancient and modern Aptitude to run
Into some Errors, which you ought to shun,
Will now and then occasion, I foresee,
In Place or out, a Præcipe from me.
When this shall happen, never stand to try
The Where of its Appearance, but the Why:
Lest by Authorities, or old or new,
You should be tempted to incur them too;
Since the most celebrated Names infer
No Sort of Privilege in you to err,—
Far from it! Even, where they may excel,
Barely to imitate is not so well.
Much less should their Authority prevail,
Or warrant you to follow, where they fail.

'Tis not to search for Precedents alone,
But how to form a Judgment of your own.
In writing Verse, that is your main Affair,
Main End of all my monitory Care,—
Who hate Servility to Common Law
That keeps an equitable Right in Awe;
By Use and Custom justifies its Lot,
Its Modes and Fashions, whether right or not;
Cramps the free Genius, clips the Muse's Wing,

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And to one Poet ties another's String;
Producing, from their hardly various Lines,
So many Copies and so few Designs.

By neither Names nor Numbers be deterr'd;
Nor yield to mix amongst the servile Herd;
Exert the Liberty which all avow,
Tho' Slaves in Practice, and begin just now!
Begin with me, and construe what I write,
Not to preclude your Judgment, but excite;
Just as you once examin'd what I taught,
From First to last, with unaddicted Thought:
So, while at your Request I venture here
To play the Master, see that all be clear;
Preserve the Freedom which you always took,
Nor, if it teach amiss, regard the Book!

Thus, unencumber'd, let us move along,
As Road shall lead us, to the Mount of Song;
Still keeping, so far by Agreement tied,
Good Verse in Prospect, and good Sense for Guide!