Legends of the Northwest | Page 3

which have been preceded by two short can not also be followed by two short.
These few rules fulfill all the conditions of an Hexameter line with relation to order of arrangement."--_Lord Kames, "Elements of Criticism."_ One who attempts to write English Hexameter, under the Greek and Latin rules, will speedily be made aware that the English language "super-abounds in short syllables." Why then should we rigidly adhere to rules repugnant to the genius of our language, if they can be modified so as to adapt the sonorous Hexameter to the structure of our mother-tongue? Can they be so modified? I have attempted it. I venture to change them as follows:
1st. By beginning each line with a short syllable instead of a long one. And it will be seen that I often begin a line with two short syllables.
2d. By often using one short syllable unaccompanied by another.
3d. I have increased the average number of syllables in the line to better adapt it to our super-abundance of short syllables.
4th. In Winona I have introduced a rhyme at the pivotal pause of the line, not because my Hexameter requires it, but because I think it increases the melody, and more emphatically marks the central pause.
I am not quite sure that, in a long poem, the rhyme is not detrimental. That depends greatly, however, upon the skill with which it is handled. Surely the same Hexameter can be written as smoothly and more vigorously without rhyme. Rhyme adds greatly to the labor of composition; it rarely assists, but often hinders, the expression of the sense which the author would convey. At times I have been on the point of abandoning it in despair, but after having been under the hammer and the file, at intervals for the last four years, Winona is at last done, if not finished.
It will be observed that I have slightly changed the length and the rhythm of the old Hexameter line, but it is still Hexameter, and, I think, improved. I am not afraid of intelligent criticism. I invoke it, and will endeavor to profit by it in the future as in the past.
The reception of my Pauline at home and abroad has been so flattering that I have been encouraged to attempt something better. That was my first real effort and full of crudities but if the Legends are received by our best critics as well as Pauline was received I shall be well pleased with my efforts.
After much thought I have decided to publish the first edition of my Legends here at home:
1st Because they pertain particularly to the lakes and rivers to the fair forests and fertile fields of our own Minnesota and ought to be appreciated here if anywhere.
2d Because many of our people are competent to judge whether my representations of Dakota customs, life, traditions, and superstitions are correct or not and at the same time the reading public of the North west is as intelligent and discriminating as that of any other portion of our country. If these Legends be appreciated and approved by our own people who are familiar with the scenery described and more or less, with the customs, traditions and superstitions of the Dakotas, and if beyond that these poems shall stand the test of candid criticism I may give them a wider publication.
H. L. GORDON.
MINNEAPOLIS. June 1, 1881.
[Illustration: VIEW OF THE MISSISSIPPI AT FORT SNELLING]
PRELUDE.
THE MISSISSIPPI.
Onward rolls the Royal River, proudly sweeping to the sea, Dark and deep and grand, forever wrapt in myth and mystery. Lo he laughs along the highlands, leaping o'er the granite walls: Lo he sleeps among the islands, where the loon her lover calls. Still like some huge monster winding downward through the prairie plains, Seeking rest but never finding, till the tropic gulf he gains. In his mighty arms he claspeth now an empire broad and grand; In his left hand lo he graspeth leagues of fen and forest land; In his right the mighty mountains, hoary with eternal snow. Where a thousand foaming fountains singing seek the plains below. Fields of corn and feet of cities lo the mighty river laves, Where the Saxon sings his ditties o'er the swarthy warriors' graves. Aye, before the birth, of Moses--ere the Pyramids were piled-- All his banks were red with roses from the sea to nor'lands wild, And from forest, fen and meadows, in the deserts of the north, Elk and bison stalked like shadows, and the tawny tribes came forth; Deeds of death and deeds of daring on his leafy banks were done-- Women loved and men went warring--ere the siege of Troy begun. Where his wayward waters thundered, roaring o'er the rocky walls, Dusky hunters sat and wondered, listening to the spirits' calls. "Ha-ha!" [76] cried the warrior greeting from afar