CHAPTER VI. ON SONG WRITING. HE first attempt of almost every young writer being a song, a ballad, or a set of "words for music," a few words of warning and advice on this subject may not be out of place: it is therefore appended, together with a rapid sketch of the rise and progress of this branch of literary composition. It is very easy to make fair verses, but it is not very easy to make a song. Many of our best poets have tried it and failed, while not a few of our best songs have been written by comparatively uneducated men; in this case, however, it has been rather an inspiration than a composition. Very many persons consider a song a trifling thing because it is short; they forget the compression that is necessary to combine closeness of thought, simplicity, pathos, and music. The song-writer should be the conjuror who can put a quart into a pint bottle; in other words, he should distil his thoughts and only bottle the spirit. Burns has somewhere said, that "those who consider a song a trifle easy to be written, should set themselves down and try." may 66 Mr. Procter (Barry Cornwall) has said that a song be considered as the expression of a sentiment, varying according to the humour of the poet. It should be fitted for music, and should, in fact, be better for the accompaniment of music, otherwise it cannot be deemed essentially a song." Dr. Mackay says, "A song should be like an epigram, complete and entire; it should give voice to one prevailing idea; be short and terse, and end with the natural climax of the sentiment." I cordially agree with both these opinions, but there is something more required in the mechanical construction of a song. It must be vocal- that is to say, it must contain no unsingable words, no hissing consonants or closed sounds, that would shut up the singer's mouth; and, above all, each part or verse must agree with the others. In writing for music, then, avoid as much as possible words beginning with the hissing consonant "s," except where followed by the open vowel "o," as in "sound,” &c. Sound, sound the trumpet boldly, would be a very good line for music, while— Sing, sing the song sorrow, would be a very bad one. 66 The word wish" is also one of the most unpleasant in the mouth of both singer and speaker. The origin of English song, as we understand a song, cannot be traced farther back than the time of Elizabeth; indeed, as Ristin, the best authority on the subject, observes, "Not a single composition of that nature, with the smallest degree of merit, can be discovered at any preceding period." Amply, however, did Shakspeare and Ben Jonson make up for lost time, for they gave us songs which have never been surpassed to the present period. The revolution of 1660 was not a period favourable to this class of composition, but at the Restoration a galaxy of lyric poets appeared-Herrick, Lovelace, Suckling, and others, whose writings the student will do well to study. Probably the decline of healthy and nervous English verse may be attributed to the turncoat and shuttlecock Dryden, who, although he had much learning and a cultivated taste, turned the Muses into waiting-maids, and wore plush himself for the sake of the crumbs that might fall from the tables of his rich patrons. Indeed it has been said, with much truth, that since his time "true feeling degenerated and nature really gave way to art." The time, however, came when all this was to be righted. Burns, the greatest of all lyric poets, lived and sung, and by his side were many worthy singers. Ireland gave us Sheridan and Moore, and England Dibdin. It must be borne in mind that all short lyrics are not songs, although all songs are lyrics. Our language contains thousands of charming lyrics which were never |