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ORTHOMETRY, |
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I care not, Fortune, what you me deny ; You cannot rob me of free Nature's grace; You cannot shut the windows of the sky, Through which Aurora shows her morning face ; You cannot bar my constant feet to trace The woods and lawns, by living stream, at eve : Let health my nerves and finer fibres brace, And I their toys to the great children leave ; Of fancy, reason, virtue, nought can me bereave.
Thomson.
Ah 1 who can tell how hard it is to climb The steep where Fame's proud temple shines afar; Ah ! who can tell how many a soul sublime Has felt the influence of malignant star, And waged with Fortune an eternal war; Checked by the scoff of Pride, by Envy's frown, And Poverty's unconquerable bar, In life's low vale remote has pined alone, Then dropped into the grave, unpitied and unknown.
Bcattie.
Dr. Beattie says of this stanza : " I am surprised to find the structure of Spenser's complicated stanza so little troublesome. I think it the most harmonious that ever was contrived. It admits of more variety of pauses than either the couplet or the alternate rhyme [he means the stanza of four], and it concludes with a pomp and majesty of sound which to my ear is wonderfully delightful. It seems also very well adapted to the genius of our language, which from its irregularity of inflexion and number of monosyllables, abounds in diversified terminations and consequently renders our poetry susceptible of an endless variety of legitimate rhymes.* |
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• Forbes's " Life of Beattia." |
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