A structural process gathers the parts of a poem into a living whole. For purposes of analysis we will distinguish three types of structure. One type of structure is PLOT-the temporal pattern of the events in the story of the poem. A second is SYNTAX-the grammatical pattern of events in the sentences of the poem. A third is ARGUMENT-the logical pattern of the line of reasoning that develops in the poem. In any particular poem all three kinds of structuring may be present to some degree, but one may do most of the unifying work.
PLOT
The following two-line poem, "Upon the Death of Sir Albert Norton's Wife," by Sir Henry Wotton, is almost purely plot:
He first deceased; she for a little triedWhy is plot so effective here, and what happens in poems where plot is the chief structuring element? There is an eventfulnes, a forward movement in time, and a feeling at the end that everything has moved toward a destined point. Frequently, when plot is at its best, the reader experience first a sense of journeying and finally a sense of the journey completed.
To live without him, liked it not, and died.
A somewhat longer example of plot in a mood of lightness and fascination is Robert Herrick's "Upon Her Feet":
Her pretty feetOf course one must have in mind the ground-sweeping skirt of Herrick's period, to see how he combines the exactness of the camera eye and the excitement of the sensual eye in one action, continuous although reversed in midcourse.
Like snails did creep
A little out, and then,
As if they started at bo-peep, started at = began to play
Did soon draw in again.
An example of plot with powerful emotional overtones is William Blake's "The Sick Rose":
O Rose, thou art sick!Plot, aided by syntax, sound, and imagery, serves symbolism in this poem.
The invisible worm
That flies in the night,
In the howling storm,Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy;
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.
For a final illustration of plot as unifying structure, we take William Carlos Williams' "Landscape with the Fall of Icarus." Wiliams transforms the all-in-one-moment (spatial) impression of Brueghel's painting into the moment-after-moment (temporal) sequence of images going down the page:
According to Brueghel
when Icarus fell
it was springa farmer was ploughing
his field
the whole pageantryof the year was
awake tingling
nearthe edge of the sea
concerned
with itselfsweating in the sun
that melted
the wings' waxunsignificantly
off the coast
there wasa splash quite unnoticed
this was
Icarus drowning.
The climax of this plot, as of the original legend, is the drowning
of Icarus. In the painting, Brueghel wants to show visuall and spatially
the insignificance of this mythological death in the setting of the workaday
world. The painter shows only Icarus' up-ended legs as the sea closes over
him. The poet arranges to render this impression in terms of time instead
of space. So as the poem proceeds, having first announced the painting
as its subject, it tells of spring, plowing, pageantry, the sea, and the
sun. Then, tucked in, casually, there is the clause "that melted/the wings'
wax." There follows some further stretching out of "unsignficantly," and
so on (as with a yawn), then the unnoticed "splash," and finally the "drowning,"
the last word of the poem and last events of the plot. The intention of
the poem being an ironical climax of unimportance, its structure must meander
rather than stride purposefully. The climax must slip in as if by an oversight.
SYNTAX
As oour first example of the way in which syntax structures a poem, let us look at this prayer for a son lost at the age of seven, "Of His Dear Son, Gervase," by Sir John Beaumont:
Dear Lord, receive my son, whose winning loveThe poem is made up of four rhymed couplets, which are formed into a single sentence. The adroit management of this eight-line sentence, with compactness and grace, supports the current of grief and hope that runs through the poem. How is this managed? The syntactical spine of this sentence may be shown as follows by omitting modifying elements: "Dear Lord, receive my son...Let his pure soul...Remain my pledge in Heaven...." Running through the first, ffifth, and seventh lines, this spine holds the body of the poem firm and knits together the other clauses, which carry important emotions and ideas. The parallel "whose" clauses modifying "son" take us to the midpoint of the poem and to the second predicate, "Let . . . Remain. . . ." This second predicate is divided but linked by the modifiers beginning with "ordain'd." The subordinate clause "as sent..." becomes climactic not only because of its idea (the speaker's going to Heaven where he trusts he will be reunited with his son) but because of its suspenseful syntax. A test of this analysis would be to see what is lost when the line is rearranged to read, for example, "how I go to this port at every step." Of course, meter and rhyme are also spoiled by such a rearrangement, but the keeping of "go" as the last word links it, as a destined completion, to the idea of the first line. In effect, the syntax of the poem achieves the compactness of "Lord, receive my son as a pledge that you will receive me," but says it with all the feeling, thought, and grace that is missing from this summary.
To me was like a friendship, far above
The course of nature or his tender age;
Whose looks could all my bitter griefs assuage:
Let his pure soul, ordain'd seven years to be
In that frail body which was part of me,
Remain my pledge in Heaven, as sent to show
How to this port at every step I go.
The following poem, by Sir Thomas Wyatt, is knitted into effective unity chiefly by the little word "it," functioning repeatedly as object (or less frequently as subject) of various verbs from the first line on:
Help me to seek, for I lost it thereOther elements that give this poem unity are the repetition of "Help me to seek" and the sense of suspense until the explicit revelation: "It was my heart." But the syntactical patterns, using the pronoun "it," form the main structure of the poem.
And if that ye found it, ye that be here,
And seek to convey it secretly,
Handle it soft and treat it tenderly,
Or else it will plain [complain] and then appear:But rather restore it to me mannerly,
Since that I do ask it thus honestly:
For to lose it, it sitteth me too near.
Help me to seek.
Alas, and is there no remedy?
But have I thus lost it wilfully?
I wis [know] it was a thing all too dear
To be bestowed and wist not where:
It was my heart, I pray you heartily
Help me to seek.
In the poem "A Jellyfish," by Marianne Moore, the pronoun "it" also appears frequently. But the poem's structure depends on another little word, the connective "and," and the way in which it functions in the statements of the poem:
Visible, invisible,The structuring process of this poem is a pulsating motion similar to the "fluctuating" appearance and disappearance of the jellyfish. How do the "ands" contribute to this pulsating effect? They do it under the influence of a basically iambic rhythm. In each case, "and" receives considerable stress. The sequence "and it opens/and it closes" has a pulsating efffect, as has the next sequence "you had meant/to catch it and it quivers." The "and" functions here not only as a "joiner" (conjunction) but also as a "divider" between two states: opening and closing, approach and withdrawal, forming an intention and abandoning it. The signal for this pulsating strucutre of the poem is given in the first line: "Visible, invisible," which seems to have a throbbing effect somewhat like a recurrent after-image. The comma, and the slight pause it indicates, performs the same function as the "ands" later on.
a fluctuating charm
an amber-tinctured amethyst
inhabits it, your arm
approaches and it opens
and it closes; you had meant
to catch it and it quivers;
you abandon your intent.
ARGUMENT
Argument, an old critical term for the line of reasoning or idea-structure of the poem, is represented in the first example below, by Sir Philip Sidney, by repetition or restatement of an idea viewed from various angles.
My true love hath my heart, and I have his,The poem's unity is helped by the grammatical symmetry of its statements and the repetition of the thesis line. But the dominant structural feature is the argument: exchange of hearts brings blissful union of lovers. However, this logical proposition is also sending forth a supralogical series of erotic images, something not uncommon in love poems and love songs. While on one level the poem's argument runs on in terms of a "better bargain," on another and parallel level we hear the argument of the emotions. The logical structure of a poem is usually animated by a current of feeling that runs through it, unlike the logical structure of a merely intellectual form of writing.
By just exchange one for another given:
I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss,
There never was a better bargain driven:
My true love hath my heart, and I have his.His heart in me keeps him and me in one,
My heart in him his thoughts and senses guides;
He loves my heart, for once it was his own,
I cherish his because in me it bides:
My true love hath my heart, and I have his.
As a final example, consider the priest-poet Gerard Manley Hopkins's argument in "The Habit of Perfection," which praises asceticism:
Elected Silence, sing to meHopkins' theme is that denying the senses can yield deeper, spiritual satisfactions. In each stanza, he addresses one of the senses, telling it what it must do without and what it will gain: music, speech, visual delights, taste, smells, touch. The seventh and final stanza sums up the renunciations in the metaphor of the ascetic's marriage to the bride of Poverty, suggesting, as well, yet another renunciation and its compensation. While readers enjoy the tightly knit structure of such a poem, however, they should also appreciate the fluidity of structure, its ability to surprise even as it satisfies expectation. In Robert Frost's excellent image, "Like a piece of ice on a hot stove the poem must ride on its own melting."
And beat pon my whorled ear,
Pipe me to pastures still and be
The music that I care to hear.Shape nothing, lips; be lovely-dumb:
It is the shut, the curfew sent
From there where all surrenders come
Which only makes you eloquent.Be shelled, eyes, with double dark
And find the uncreated light:
This ruck and reel which you remark
Coils, keeps, and teases simple sight.Palate, the hutch of tusty lust,
Desire not to be rinsed with wine:
The can must be so sweet, the crust
So fresh that comes in fasts divine!Nostrils, your careless breath that spend
Upon the stir and keep of pride,
What relish shall the censers send
Along the sanctuary side!O feel-of-primrose hands, O feet
That want the yield of plushy sward,
But you shall walk the golden street
And you unhouse and house the Lord.And Poverty, be thou the bride
And now the marriage feast begun,
And lily-coloured clothes provide
Your spouse not laboured at nor spun.("golden street"-aisle leading to the alter "unhouse and house"-take the consecrated Host from the tabernacle and return it)
Readers should also notice that plot, syntax, and argument, as well as devices like repetition, antithesis, reminiscences of familiar parallel works, and many other features work together to give a poem its structure. However spontaneous, a poem should never be mistaken for a a shapeless effusion or random outburst. All lasting poetry has structure of some sort that is related to its meaning, not just its sound.
Exercise for thought: which of the following is really Hilda Conkling's poem "Water"?
The world turns softly Water pours silverAssume that the poet wanted to suggest awe as well as tenderness and to make every word count.
Not to spill its lakes and rivers. And can hold the sky.
The water is held in its arms, The world turns softly
And the sky is held in the water. In order to avoid spilling
What is water, Its lakes and rivers. .
That pours silver It holds the water in its arms;
And can hold the sky? The water holds the sky.