“ One might suggest Gentle Verse, but it would be with the restricted meaning of the adjective that is applied to the courteous and well-bred; the innately fine, polished by the experience and sophistication of truly good society.
Gentlefolk are never excessive. Their enthusiasms are modified, their emotions are restrained, their humor is delicate. As a result of wise and intelligent culture, their tastes are refined, their fashions correct. They breathe the air of polite worldly wisdom, which endows them with a gracious ease, and removes all trace of self-consciousness. ”

“ Freezing my soul with a glance of her eye!
Then O for a draught from a cup of cold pizen,
And O for a resting-place in the cold grave!
With a bath in the Styx where the thick shadow lies on
And deepens the chill of its dark-running wave.
Rossiter Johnson. BRIGHTON PIER
WHICH is the merriest place to love,
Whether it be for a day or year;
Where can we slip, like a cast-off glove,
The care that hovers our world above? ”

“ As the birds have discovered,—that old Sedan chair!
“Where’s Troy?” says the poet! Look,—under the seat,
Is a nest with four eggs,—’tis the favored retreat
Of the Muscovy hen, who has hatched, I dare swear,
Quite an army of chicks in that old Sedan chair! ”

“ And Beauty is whirling to conquest, where shrilly
[108] Cremona makes nimble thy toes, Piccadilly!
Bright days, when a stroll is my afternoon wont
And I meet all the people I do know, or don’t:
Here is jolly old Brown, and his fair daughter Lillie—
No wonder, young Pilgrim, you like Piccadilly!
See yonder pair riding, how fondly they saunter,
She smiles on her poet, whose heart’s in a canter!
Some envy her spouse, and some covet her filly,
He envies them both,—he’s an ass, Piccadilly!
Now were I such a bride, with a slave at my feet,
I would choose me a house in my favourite street ”

“ THOUGH I met her in the summer, when one’s heart lies ‘round at ease
As it were in tennis costume, and a man’s not hard to please;
Yet I think at any season to have met her was to love,
While her tones, unspoiled, unstudied, had the softness of the dove.
At request she read us poems, in a nook among the pines,
And her artless voice lent music to the least melodious lines ”

“ I associated strongly with those happier August days;
And I mused, “I’ll speak this evening,” recent pangs forgotten quite.
Sudden shrilled a scream of anguish: “Curfew SHALL not ring to-night!”
Ah, that sound was as a curfew, quenching rosy warm romance!
Were it safe to wed a woman one so oft would wish in France?
Oh, as she “cull-imbed” that ladder, swift my mounting hope came down.
I am still a single cynic; she is still Cassandra Brown!
Helen Gray Cone. FROM THREE FLY LEAVES
AH Phyllis! ”

“ It has waited—and waited, that old Sedan chair!
Oh, the scandals it knows! Oh, the tales it could tell
Of Drum and Ridotto, of Rake and of Belle,—
Of Cock-fight and Levee, and (scarcely more rare!)
Of Fête-days at Tyburn, that old Sedan chair!
“Heu! quantum mutata,” I say as I go.
It deserves better fate than a stable-yard, though!
We must furbish it up, and dispatch it—“With care,”—
To a Fine-Art Museum—that old Sedan chair!
Austin Dobson. “LE ROMAN DE LA ROSE”
POOR Rose! ”

“ The Travellers are in Pall Mall, and smoke cigars so cosily,
[50] And dream they climb the highest Alps or rove the plains of Moselai.
The world for them has nothing new, they have explored all parts of it,
And now they are club-footed, and they sit and look at charts of it.
The Orientals, homeward-bound, now seek their club much sallower,
And while they eat green fat they find their own fat growing yellower.
Their soup is made more savoury, till bile to shadows dwindles ’em,
And neither Moore nor Savory with seidlitz draughts rekindles ’em. ”

“ And Life seems a blessing too happy for man.
But the Country, Lord help me! sets all matters right;
So calm and composing from morning to night;
Oh! it settles the spirits when nothing is seen
But an ass on a common, a goose on a green.
In town if it rain, why it damps not our hope,
The eye has her choice, and the fancy her scope
What harm though it pour whole nights or whole days?
It spoils not our prospects, or stops not our ways.
In the country what bliss, when it rains in the fields,
To live on the transports that shuttlecock yields ”

“ Last night, at Lady Ramble’s rout,
I heard Sir Harry Gale
Exclaim, “Now, I propose again——”
I started, turning pale;
I really thought my time was come,
I blush’d like any rose;
But, oh! I found ’twas only at
Ecarté he’d propose!
And what is to be done, mamma?
Oh, what is to be done?
I really have no time to lose,
For I am thirty-one.
At balls, I am too often left
Where spinsters sit in rows;
Why won’t the men propose, mamma?
Why won’t the men propose? ”

“ And every little lassie smooths her tumbled locks a-down,
And brings out all her dimples and hides away her frown,
And lays aside her broom and mop, the bonnie boy to chase,
Singing, “Hey, but the world is a gay, gay place!”
But away the blue-eyed laddie goes to seek another town,
Singing, “Hey, but the world is a gay, gay place!”
Then every dimple vanishes, and back comes every frown,
And every little lassie folds away her Sunday gown,
With tear-drops trickling sadly down her woful little face,
Sighing, “Hey, but the world is a sad, sad place!” ”

“ For my conversazione you must send me something new,
Don’t forget me! Oh I sigh for the eclat of a debut!
I am sick of all the “minstrels,” all the “brothers” this and that,
Who sing sweetly at the parties, while the ladies laugh and chat;
And the man who play’d upon his chin is passé, I suppose
So try and find a gentleman who plays upon his nose.
Send half-a-dozen authors, for they help to fill a rout,
I fear I’ve worn the literary lionesses out!
Send something biographical, I think that fashion spreads,
But do not send a poet, till you find one with two heads. ”

“ It must eschew not merely coarseness or vulgarity, but even free and hearty laughter; and it must refrain from dealing not only with the soul-plumbing abysses of the tragic, but even with the ground-swell of any sweeping emotion. [xxv] It must keep on the crest of the wave, mid-way between the utter triviality of the murmuring shadows and the silent profundity of the depths that are dumb. ”

“ Mortimer Collins, himself a writer of Vers de Société, declared that the lines by Ben Jonson, beginning,
“Follow a shadow, it still flies you;”
is the most perfect bit of society verse written in our language. And speaking of the same poem, Mr. W. Davenport Adams says, “I cannot bring myself to look upon Ben Jonson as a ‘society poet,’ or upon the verses in question as a ‘society poem’ in the proper sense of the term—in the sense at least, in which I understand them.” ”

“ And he bubbles with wit and good humour!
He’s so quaint and so terse, both in prose and in verse;
Yet though people forgive his transgression,
There are one or two rules that all Family Fools
Must observe if they love their profession. ”

“ Its great distinction should be ease—the entire absence of apparent effort—the presence of that playful spontaneity which proclaims the master.”
Professor Brander Matthews, in his able essay on the subject, agrees in general to all these stipulations, and observes: “No doubt, Social verse should have polish, and finish, and the well-bred ease of the man of the world; but it ought also to carry, at least a suggestion of the more serious aspects of life. It should not be frothily frivolous or coldly cynical, any more than it should be broadly comic or boisterously funny. ”

“ IF any man loves comfort and has little cash to buy it, he
Should get into a crowded club—a most select society,—
While solitude and mutton-cutlets serve infelix uxor, he
May have his club, like Hercules, and revel there in luxury.
Yes, clubs knock taverns on the head. E’en Hatchett’s can’t demolish ’em;
Joy grieves to see their magnitude, and Long longs to abolish ’em.
The Inns are out. Hotels for single men scarce keep alive on it,
While none but houses that are in the family way thrive on it. ”

“ Ah! Ellery Vane, you little thought,
An hour ago, when you besought
This country lass to walk with you,
After the sun had dried the dew,
What perilous danger you’d be in,
As she tied her bonnet under her chin
Nora Perry. VERS DE SOCIÉTÉ
THERE, pay it, James! ”

“ Sing heigh, sing ho, for the summer!
“With all my heart, little bird,” said she;
Sing heigh, sing ho, for the summer!
“He’s welcome to kirtle red for me;
Somebody’s fast, while somebody’s free!
There’s nothing, no, nothing, like libertie!” ”

“ Edmund Clarence Stedman’s views coincide with those above quoted, and are thus briefly summed up: “In fine, the true kind is marked by humor, by spontaneity, joined with extreme elegance of finish, by the quality we call breeding,—above all, by lightness of touch.”
These same authorities agree that not every poet may write Vers de Société. To quote Mr. Locker-Lampson: “The writer of Occasional verse, in order to be genuinely successful, must not only be something of a poet, but he must also be a man of the world, in the liberal sense of the expression ”

“ I who sing of you would marry
Just the kind of girl you are,—
One who doesn’t care to carry
Her poetic taste too far,—
One whose fancy is a bright one,
Who is fond of poems fine,
And appreciates a light one
Such as mine. ”

“ Mr. Adams corroborates this by saying: “Although a clever literary artist may so far throw himself into the position of a man of society as to be able to write very agreeable Society verse, yet few can hope to write the best and most genuine Vers de Société who are not, or have not at one time been, [xxvi] in some measure at any rate, inhabitants of ‘Society.’” ”

“ It is at liberty to hint at hidden tears, even when it seems to be wreathed in smiles. It has no right to parade mere cleverness; and it must shun all affectation as it must avoid all self-consciousness. ”

“ The scholarly gentlemen who have devoted special attention to the matter, advance conflicting opinions.
Frederick Locker-Lampson, doubtless the greatest master of the art, both in a critical and creative way, allows wide latitude of discretion. But so infallible is his individual judgment and so unerring his taste, that it is with him, a case of “Know the Rules, and when to break them.”
He asserts that “Vers de Société by no means need be confined to topics of conventional life.”
Contradicting this, is the word of W. Davenport Adams, whose collection of “Songs of Society ”

“ Your head crammed full to bursting with their philosophy,—
Those hairy-headed sages and maids of hosiery blue;
Then solve me the conundrum, love, that I have put to you.”
She smiled a dreamy smile, and said, “The Thingness of the Here
Is that which is not passed and hasn’t yet arrived, my dear.
Indeed,” the maid continued, with a calm, unruffled brow,
“The Thingness of the Here is just the Thingness of the Now.”
A smile illumed the lover’s face ”

“ Though manner is equally important, yet the choice of matter for Vers de Société depends upon certain definite characteristics.
But to limit these characteristics is to ask the question, “who shall decide when doctors disagree?” ”

“ There should be little or no enthusiasm: the Muse should not be over-earnest, nor need it by any means be over-flippant. It is essential to ‘Society verse’ that it should have the tincture of good-breeding;—that if it is lively, it should be so without being vulgar ”

“ INTRODUCTION ALL collectors of Vers de Société agree that there is no possibility of an English equivalent for the French term. None exists; and the attempts to coin one have invariably resulted in failure.
Society Verse, Familiar Verse and Occasional Verse are all wide of the mark in one direction or another; and perhaps, after all, the simple term Light Verse strikes nearest home. ”

“ Francis Bret Harte.
[177]
AVICE
THOUGH the voice of modern schools
Has demurred,
By the dreamy Asian creed
’Tis averred,
That the souls of men, released
From their bodies when deceased,
Sometimes enter in a beast,—
Or a bird. ”

“ There’s first the Athenæum Club; so wise, there’s not a man of it
That has not sense enough for six—in fact, that is the plan of it.
The very waiters answer you with eloquence Socratical,
[49] And always place the knives and forks in order mathematical.
Then opposite the mental club you’ll find the regimental one—
A meeting made of men of war, and yet a very gentle one.
If uniform good living please your palate, here’s excess of it.
Especially at private dinners, when they make a mess of it. ”

“ Mr. Adams tells us that “Vers de Société should be applied to the poetry of fashionable life alone; should be limited to the doings and sayings of the world of fashion, and should deal exclusively with [xxii] such things as routs and balls, and dinners and receptions.”
Our own American collector, Mr. Brander Matthews, inclines to Mr. Locker-Lampson’s views, and therefore prefers the term Familiar Verse, as allowing excursions outside of Vanity Fair ”

“ Granting then that there is no perfect English translation of the French phrase, and accepting Vers de Société as our field, we are again confronted by great difficulties and embarrassments in defining its boundaries.
One of the greatest masters of the art, Mr. Austin Dobson, gives us twelve definite rules for our [xxi] guidance; but of these, only three refer to the matter of the poems, the others being advice as to manner. ”