INTRODUCTORY NOTE
In regard to the subject of this poem I have nothing to say. I grew naturally
out of certain developments in my own mind; and the story, unsuggested
by any legend or detached incident whatever, shaped itself to suit the
theme. The work of time, written only as its own necessity prompted, and
finished with the care and conscience which such a venture demands, I surrender
it to the judgment of the reader.
The form of the stanza which I have adopted, however, requires a word
of explanation. I have endeavored to strike a middle course between the
almost inevitable monotony of an unvarying stanza, in a poem of this length,
and the loose character which the heroic measure assumes when arbitrarily
rhymed, without the check of regularly recurring divisions. It seemed to me
that this object might be best accomplished by adhering rigidly to the measure
and limit of the stanza, yet allowing myself freedom of rhyme within
that limit. The ottava rima is undoubtedly better adapted for the purposes
of a romantic epic than either the Spenserian stanza or the heroic couplet;
but it needs the element of humor (as in Byron's “Don Juan”) to relieve its
uniform sweetness. On the other hand, the proper compactness and strength
of rhythm can with difficulty be preserved in a poem where all form of stanza
is discarded. My aim has been, as far as possible, to combine the advantages
and lessen the objections of both.
I know of but one instance in which the experiment has been even partially
tried,—the “Oberon” of Wieland, wherein the rhymes are wilfully varied,
and sometimes the measure, the stanza almost invariably closing with an
Alexandrine. In the present case, I have been unable to detect any prohibitory
rule in the genius of our language; and the only doubt which suggested
itself to my mind was that the ear, becoming swiftly accustomed to the arrangement
of rhyme in one stanza, might expect to find it reproduced in the
next. I believe, however, that such disappointment, if it should now and
then occur, will be very transitory,—that even an unusually delicate ear will
soon adjust itself to the changing order, and find that the varied harmony at
which I have aimed (imperfectly as I may have succeeded) compensates for
the lack of regularity. At times, I confess, the temptation to close with an
Alexandrine was very great; but it was necessary to balance the one apparent
license by a rigid adherence to the customary form in all other respects.
Hence, also, I have endeavored, as frequently as possible, to use but three
rhymes in a stanza, in order to strengthen my experiment with an increased
effect of melody. I have found, since the completion of the poem, that it
contains more than seventy variations in the order of rhyme, not all of which,
of course, can be pronounced equally agreeable: nor does this freedom involve
less labor than a single form of stanza, because the variations must
be so arranged as to relieve and support each other. My object has been, not
to escape the laws which Poetry imposes, but to select a form which gives
greater appearance of unrestrained movement, and more readily reflects the
varying moods of the poem.
