the rhythm of life and other essays(生命的旋律)-第12章
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He endures therefore what they could but will not endure and； besides this；
degrees that they cannot apprehend。 Thus； to have studied The Unknown
Eros is to have had a certain experienceat least the impassioned
experience of a compassion； but it is also to have recognised a soul
beyond our compassion。
What some of the Odes have to sing of； their author does not insist
upon our knowing。 He leaves more liberty for a well…intentioned reader's
error than makes for peace and recollection of mind in reading。 That the
general purpose of the poems is obscure is inevitable。 It has the
obscurity of profound clear waters。 What the poet chiefly secures to us is
the understanding that love and its bonds； its bestowal and reception； does
but rehearse the action of the union of God with humanitythat there is no
essential man save Christ； and no essential woman except the soul of
mankind。 When the singer of a Song of Songs seems to borrow the phrase
of human love； it is rather that human love had first borrowed the truths of
the love of God。 The thought grows gay in the three Psyche odes； or
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attempts a gaietythe reader at least being somewhat reluctant。 How is it？
Mr。 Coventry Patmore's play more often than not wins you to but a slow
participation。 Perhaps because some thrust of his has left you still
tremulous。
But the inequality of equal lovers； sung in these Odes with a Divine
allusion； is a most familiar truth。 Love that is passionate has much of the
impulse of gravitationgravitation that is not falling； as there is no
downfall in the precipitation of the sidereal skies。 The love of the great for
the small is the passionate love； the upward love hesitates and is fugitive。
St。 Francis Xavier asked that the day of his ecstasy might be shortened；
Imogen； the wife of all poetry； 'prays forbearance；' the child is 'fretted with
sallies of his mothers kisses。' It might be drawing an image too
insistently to call this a centrifugal impulse。
The art that utters an intellectual action so courageous； an emotion so
authentic； as that of Mr。 Coventry Patmore's poetry； cannot be otherwise
than consummate。 Often the word has a fulness of significance that gives
the reader a shock of appreciation。 This is always so in those simplest
odes which we have taken as the heart of the author's work。 Without
such wonderful rightness； simplicity of course is impossible。 Nor is that
beautiful precision less in passages of description； such as the landscape
lines in Amelia and elsewhere。 The words are used to the uttermost yet
with composure。 And a certain justness of utterance increases the
provocation of what we take leave to call unjust thought in the few poems
that proclaim an intemperate scornpolitical； social； literary。 The poems
are but two or three； they are to be known by their subjects we might as
well do something to justify their scorn by using the most modern of
adjectivesand call them topical。 Here assuredly there is no composure。
Never before did superiority bear itself with so little of its proper； signal；
and peculiar grace reluctance。
If Mr。 Patmore really intends that his Odes shall be read with minim；
or crochet； or quaver rests； to fill up a measure of beaten time； we are free
to hold that he rather arbitrarily applies to liberal verse the laws of verse
set for usecradle verse and march… marking verse （we are； of course； not
considering verse set to music； and thus compelled into the musical time）。
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Liberal verse； dramatic； narrative； meditative； can surely be bound by no
time measuresif for no other reason； for this： that to prescribe pauses is
also to forbid any pauses unprescribed。 Granting； however； his principle
of catalexis； we still doubt whether the irregular metre of The Unknown
Eros is happily used except for the large sweep of the flight of the Ode
more properly so called。 Lycidas； the Mrs。 Anne Killigrew； the Intimations；
and Emerson's Threnody； considered merely for their versification； fulfil
their laws so perfectly that they certainly move without checks as without
haste。 So with the graver Odesmuch in the majorityof Mr。 Coventry
Patmore's series。 A more lovely dignity of extension and restriction； a
more touching sweetness of simple and frequent rhyme； a truer impetus of
pulse and impulse； English verse could hardly yield than are to be found in
his versification。 And what movement of words has ever expressed flight；
distance； mystery； and wonderful approach； as they are expressed in a
celestial linethe eighth in the ode To the Unknown Eros？ When we are
sensible of a metrical cheek it is in this way： To the English ear the
heroic line is the unit of metre； and when two lines of various length
undesignedly add together to form a heroic line； they have to be separated
with something of a jerk。 And this addingas； for instance； of a line of
four syllables preceding or following one of sixoccurs now and then； and
even in such a masterly measure of music as A Farewell。 It is as when a
sail suddenly flaps windless in the fetching about of a boat。 In The Angel
in the House； and other earlier poems； Mr。 Coventry Patmore used the
octosyllabic stanza perfectly； inasmuch as he never left it either heavily or
thinly packed。 Moreover those first poems had a composure which was
the prelude to the peace of the Odes。 And even in his slightest work he
proves himself the masterthat is； the ownerof words that； owned by him；
are unprofaned； are as though they had never been profaned； the capturer
of an art so quick and close that it is the voice less of a poet than of the
very Muse。
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INNOCENCE AND EXPERIENCE
I shall not ask the commentators whether Blake used these two words
in union or in antithesis。 They assuredly have an inseverable union in the
art of literature。 The songs of Innocence and Experience are for each
poet the songs of his own separate heart and life； but to take the
cumulative experiences of other men； and to use these in place of the
virginal fruit of thoughtwhereas one would hardly consent to take them
for ordering even the most habitual of daily affairsis to forego Innocence
and Experience at once and together。 Obviously； Experience can be
nothing except personal and separate； and Innocence of a singularly
solitary quality is his who does not dip his hands into other men's histories；
and does not give to his own word the common sanction of other men's
summaries and conclusions。 Therefore I bind Innocence and Experience
in one； and take them as a sign of the necessary and noble isolation of man
from manof his uniqueness。 But if I had a mind to forego that manner
of personal separateness； and to use the things of others； I think I would
rather appropriate their future than their past。 Let me put on their hopes；
and the colours of their confidence； if I must borrow。 Not that I would
burden my prophetic soul with unjustified ambitions； but even this would
be more tolerable than to load my memory with an unjustifiable history。
And yet how differently do the writers of a certain kind of love… poetry
consider this matter。 These are the love…poets who have no reluctance in
adopting the past of a multitude of people to whom they have not even
been introduced。 Their verse is full of ready… made memories； various；
numerous； and cruel。 No single life supposing it to be a liberal life
concerned with something besides sexcould quite suffice for so much
experience； so much disillusion； so much deception。 To achieve that tone
in its fulness it is necessary to take for one's own the praeterita （say） of
Alfred de Musset and of the men who helped himnot to live butto have
lived； it is necessary to have lived much more than any man lives； and to
make a common hoard of erotic remembrances with all kinds of poets。
As the Franciscans wear each other's old habits； and one Friar goes
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about darned because of another's rending； so the poet of a certain order
grows cynical for the sake of many poets' old loves。 Not otherwise will
the resultant verse succeed in implying so muchor rather so many； in the
feminine plural。 The man of very sensitive individuality might hesitate at
the adoption。 The Franciscan is understood to have a fastidiousness and
to overcome it。 But these poets so triumph over their repugnance that it
does not appear。 And yet； if choice were； one might wish rather to make
use of one's fellowmen's old shoes than put their old secrets to use； and
dress one's art in a motley of past passions。 Moreover； to utilise the
mental experience of many is inevitably to use their verse and phrase。
For the rest； all the traits of this love…poetry are familiar enough。 One of
them is the absence of the word of promise and pledge； the loss of the
earliest and simplest of the impulses of love： which is the vow。 'Till
death！' 'For ever！' are cries too simple and too natural to be commonplace；
and in their denial there is the least tolerable of banalitiesthat of other
men's disillusions。
Perfect personal distinctness of Experience would be in literature a
delicate Innocence。 Not a passage of cheapness； of g
