That translation from @sungodsevenoclock got me thinking about jaunty short-line rhyming poems. I started remembering a handful from, in particular, Elinor Wylie and her somewhat later contemporary Phyllis McGinley. Both of them had a wonderful knack for these very playful, jazzy poems that were often just excuses to show off how brilliantly they could do multisyllabic rhymes. Here's a chunk of Wylie's "Peregrine":
"He made pantries
Of Vaux and Arden
And the village gentry's
Kitchen-garden.
Fruits within yards
Were his staples;
He drank whole vineyards
From Rome to Naples,
Then went to Brittany
For the cider.
He could sit any
Horse, a rider
Outstripping Cheiron's
Canter and gallop.
Pau's environs
The pubs of Salop,
Wells and Bath inns
Shared his pleasure
With taverns of Athens..."
And there's an even more technically brilliant variation of this, which is exemplified in McGinley's "Lesson for Beginners." I'm going to transcribe the whole poem, because (though it's a bit glib), I have rarely found its equal for marrying verve and musicality to keeping on topic and not wandering into rhyme for rhyme's sake.
LESSON FOR BEGINNERS
by Phyllis McGinley
Martin of Tours,
When he earned his shilling
Trooping the flags
Of the Roman Guard,
Came on a poor,
Aching and chilling
Beggar in rags
By the barracks yard.
Blind to his lack,
The Guard went riding.
But Martin a moment
Paused and drew
The coat from his back,
His sword from hiding,
And sabered his raiment
Into two.
Now some who muse
On the allegory
Affect to find
It a pious joke;
To beggar what use,
For Martin what glory,
In deed half-kind
And part of a cloak?
Still, it has charm
And a point worth seizing.
For all who move
In the mortal sun
Know halfway warm
Is better than freezing,
As half a love
Is better than none.
izzy806
jbbartram-illu
annaxmalina
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