1 Alaric called the muster of his crew,

The fearsome Eastmen, shoulders Atlas-bow

By leaden weights of grief. O star-pick’d few!

On thy constellations, thinkest thou,

5 Which auspice shone, then acrid turn’d somehow?

How can one predict when fate departs

For wine-dark seas, and grief darkens the brow?

From unknown ways and waves like these one starts

From nightmare plaguéd dreams -- such thoughts stung waking hearts!

10 And thus in thinned grim file they follow’d on

With closéd hearts for loss, but eyes new-found

Now open wide to see Atlantis yon.

From cyan coast, paths led to higher ground.

Where tow’ring walls kept watch with ends unfound

15 For bend at each horizon. Here, a gate

Of solitary stone and compass’d round

Was carved upon, and, while they had to wait

Read Eastern Crowns depicted there old Atlas’ fate.

Illuminations spun to focus, each

20 In its time, as dancers ‘round the pole:

First, images of once-great Empire’s reach;

Once, sea-born bloodshed crimsoned oceans whole

Argive, Turk, and Roman lives they stole.

Eternal War was mounted on this wheel.

25 But Hist’ry spun as giant’s millstone roll’d

Away. Now leaving splintered spears and steel

Behind, they pass these hieroglyphs, more to reveal.

In flawless form doth timeless island stand!

‘Twixt first and second sphere, a forest grew

30 Proportion-perfect (‘twas no murky stand):

Well-matched in rows and heights and even hue --

Diana’s countless columns, squared and true,

At Ephesus were just as car’fully placed.

The party stopped with second gate in view

35 On which great scenes of mirth and dirge were traced

Victorious speech and fun’rals both they faced.

And thus pass’d seven seals of similar shape

Between each layer the city slowly rose.

Untilled fields yield neither wheat nor grape:

40 ‘Til only rigid buildings filled the rows.

War faded in this land, the third plate shows;

And by th’ approach to sixth wall’s pictured gate

Our voyagers found how Atlas’ people chose

t’abandon variance of flesh for slate --

45 Each passing year, as friezes show, they carved their fate.

When fin’lly alabaster Palace rose

Atop a cliff-face sheer, in central ring

Our weary trav’lers nearly cried, but chose

Instead a cheering home-spun song to sing.

50 (Such melodies as joyous hearts may bring)

But guiding stone-men froze when warming sound

Began, and turned with widened eyes like hawk on wing.

Atlas’ human guests then look’d around

And, finding stares, walk’d on with hearts in silence bound.

55 “O, wherefore spurn they songs we cherish most?”

Worried Muirean, lady and bright bard

Who led the melody for Yseult’s host.

Her Highness Fair replied, “I know ‘tis hard,

But seems it men like these are somehow marred;

60 Their stone-bound hearts no longer beat in time

To one another. Even our most scarred

And wounded souls feel moved by rhyme…”

So Yseult gently led her bard t’wards halls sublime.

The entryways were built so cold and vast,

65 That every crypt might muster who there lies

To stand guard there. But, reaching throne at last:

‘Twas unremark’d in shape, un-peered in size,

A sea-swirl’d marble seat, some sculptor’s prize!

More carving waves sprung carv’d from each wall’s face;

70 No tapestries could hope to neutralize

The hall which echoed sound, and Atlas’ race.

Then that polished King arose, our Prince to face.

“Welcome, weary men to my poor house!

Though how ill-suitéd our hard lodgings are:

75 So little livest here, not e’en a mouse

Could morsels find in some dark corner; far

Less still have we for men of such dark star.

My people here no longer foodstuffs crave:

What need have we for what would only mar

80 Our perfect forms?” and Atlas, with a wave,

Led out into the square, in hand a granite stave.

“One thousand lives of men we’ve seen unfurl’d”

Grey King who held up Grecian Sky explain’d:

“Once by myself did I support the world;

85 But soon I rose yon peak, which then maintain’d

That Sphere, encircled stands it now, contain’d

By bastion rings, through which thou pass’d inside

(Which in circumference grew as humans gain’d)

Our never-changing, perfect world to hide.

90 Each battlements ascent, entrenched our people’s pride.”

As sure-plumb’d streets and squar’d roofs pass’d us by

His Majesty Atlantis spoke as plain:

“We need not eat, nor sleep, nor even die --

So long ago gave we up sense and pain.

95 Perfection sought, no living flaws remain.

Poor powerless human Crowns, like wooden toys

You surely find yourselves. Strive not in vain

‘gainst Fate, when She capriciously destroys:

Abandon chance! Ne’er must you suffer griefs nor joys!”

1 As Eastmen murmured, Atlas carried on:

“You need’nt worry anymore, stay here!

In little time, your sadness will be gone

And mem’ry of all loss will disappear.

5 What say you, human Prince, what do you fear?”

At this all eyes did run twixt Prince and King.

Though hungry, worn, and grief still very near

Our first great crowns were swayed by one small thing:

What’s dearth of crying worth, if none for mirth can sing?

10 Alaric, steeled in his resolve, spoke out:

“Our lives, old stone-hewn King, are wicker rafts:

Time’s riverbanks may crack in times of drought

Or swell in flood, but cling we to our crafts.

No twisting bend of Fate could break the shafts

15 Off hulls like ours, and when the currents calm

We humans laugh, rise up, and toast full draughts

At Nature’s equal parts fury and balm;

Thy oaken ships have sunk, but ours are made of palm.”

“Ah! I remember this tenacity;

20 Athenian dukes presented such a front

Upon my sails’ appearance on their sea --

So I receive it not as an affront.

Take this night to rest, which may just blunt

This sharp reply of thine. When we talk more,

25 Consider fawning aspect; me, ahunt --

Your bristled tongue does not make you a boar. ”

As evening fell, the host of men were led to shore.

Alaric’s speech, dismissed by Atlas there,

Renewed the vigor in his woeful crew.

30 They hoisted sails, a mend in every tear,

And driftwood beams by moonbeams made anew.

With ship repaired, they slept the whole night through,

And on into the morning. All too slow,

The changing rays of daylight barely shew

35 Cold Atlas’ men advancing, one long row

With crystal spears held high and gravel’d voices low.

Before the watch could gather men to arm

Were they surrounded all by th’ancient point

Of long-forgotten pikes of antique harm:

40 When Janus-king did murd’rous task appoint.

Alaric’s sword was drawn, oft’ well-anoint

In villainous blood, but, looking ‘round, slid back

His desperate blade. The camp, disjoint,

Would suffer if he recklessly attack’d;

45 Our battle-temper’d Prince so pressur’d flex’d, un-crack’d.

Grey phalanx with their captives uphill wend,

Who under equal shafts of sun and stone

Were driven ‘neath that seeming endless bend

Of masonry on which stood Atlas, lone

50 As Zeus in fair Olympia on his throne.

“Old halberds were, from shuttered armories,

Exhumed by my command, my men to hone

To keep you here forever, should I please --

Perfection comes at cost, your lives the secret’s fees!”

55 “Come take your price!” firm stood Alaric tall.

Though Atlas stood above on ramparts higher

Than Alaric e’er climbed. Above them all,

O’er both flesh and stone, that central spire

Of Atlas’ island did Yseult inspire.

60 As ring of sharpened spears began to close

Our first Princess to Atlas did inquire:

“How can you, who endless beauty knows,

Beneath that mount dare stand as it imperfect grows?”

“How dare you mock my first creation here,

65 when caught by living rock well-armed, unmarr’d?!”

While Atlas rag’d, Yseult call’d Muirean near:

“Now when I give command, my lovely bard,

I beg you, craft some lyrical vanguard

to further disconcert our foes -- don’t stop.”

70 And to their captor quipped, “It must be hard

To know you made that crumbling mountaintop,

By Nature flawed…” She saw his prideful smile drop.

“Frail mortal thing, what know you of my case?!

I raised that mountain in your species’ dawn

75 Alone, my shouldered burden there to place!

Do you by thine last sunrise carry on?”

As heartless soldiers circled hard upon,

They waited on their tardy King’s command:

His goaded preening hindered his dread spawn.

80 So Yseult squeezed bright Muirean’s shaking hand.

A trembling voice emerged, though bard could barely stand.

Goddess aesthete, the song that Muirean sang

Ne’er heard before, would conjure thee to tears;

As lyric grew in strength, how that song rang!

85 I leave to fellow poets in future years

To capture that raw verse for wond’ring ears --

Let it suffice that echoes of those notes

Entranced their captors bodies, bound to hear

Reverberations such that quay-side boats

90 Enmoored did dance to join the song, though lacking throats.

Just as before, the statues froze there, like

Too long ago, some shipwrecked artist spent

Their years alone with hammer, marlinspike,

the endless scowling marble blocks o’erbent.

95 Our homebound Prince their stony prison rent

With scabbard-clearéd longsword clearing room;

When through the broken circle Yseult went

She guided Muirean, shuttle through the loom --

The party ran t’wards shore: bard’s song prevented doom.

1 “On board, post-haste!” Alaric cried from shore

Crew ran to posts, with Muirean close behind.

When verse she ended, somehow she found more

Spring’d fully formed from deep within her mind:

5 Her improviséd song was of a kind

With Cyprian Venus -- a beauty ever-young.

For new-freed bard’s new, captivating lines

Atlantis, deaf to song for eons, hung

In stasis. Atlas cursed her breath with breathless lung.

10 Heroic Prince Alaric, last of all,

Did climb to ship from sand as oars emerged --

And just as soon took place on bench to haul.

His Lady’s bard continued as swell surged

Around their hull, and Yseult urged

15 This shining songstress not to rest

Until so far from Atlas’ seas they purged

That ne’er could murd’rous stony sailors test

Or best th’endurance of her rowing husband’s best.

O Fairest Goddess, sent you West Wind t’ward

20 That rebuilt bark o’er which our tall Prince led

A homeward breeze as Heaven-sent reward

For Muirean’s verse, unending and unread?

With men on board, course set, and sails well-fed

The Princess called a court of all their crew;

25 So grateful each man was now home they sped

That among those tired pilgrims a cheer grew

Fair Yseult calm’d them, though such feelings she well knew.

“When set we forth those too-few days ago

(could it have been so short a time, indeed?)

30 How little thought we gave (how could we know?)

Where studying foreign kingdoms’ ways might lead.

Though storm-born trag’dy led to dire need,

Such dark times best instruct how best to live;

A ‘brasive sand, like oyster’s bitter seed

35 From which time’s polish knowledge’s shine doth give

Us Pearls of Wisdom -- hardship is transformative.

Now Atlas’ changeless kingdom taught us well,

When Muirean’s flowing song froze stone in place --

That stagnant empire lost t’ her moving spell

Their cold demeanor crack’d by warm embrace

40 Of Beauty True -- Man’s ever-forward pace!

More steps shall we, your Crowns, then undertake:

Atlantia name we now the new-found place

We settle, and memorial promise make --

A Princedom changing e’er shall be. Ne’er may it break!”

45 A joyful cry at welcome oaths well-made

Erupted both from sailors and the sea:

The sea-foam flashed off waves as Sea-Born Maid

Herself sent signs for Principality:

The highest crests from deepest depth set free

50 An opalescent Pearl of greater size

Than Jewels in Other Crowns one e’er would see

Roll’d ‘cross the deck and, much to wond’ring eyes,

Stopped short at Yseult’s feet unnaturally:

On pitching ship unmov’d, a Godly gift to be.

55 Alaric joined Yseult, and took the Pearl,

Love Goddess gift for promises outset.

With glitt’ring sphere, the first Atlantian Earl

Addressed the crowd with Yseult in duet:

“Remiss are we to not have mentioned yet

60 Th’ inspired songstress owed for our Dear Lives;”

The Princess carried on the path He set:

“...As our bright light, Atlantia, arrives,

So Muirean saved that country’s men. Our Hope revives!”

“And thus” to all Alaric proudly called

65 “Do we create a title for our bard --

As she gave us our lives, with song enthrall’d

Our captors, and our exit did safeguard --

Do we make her our Grant of Arms vanguard

And name her Mother of Pearl, after this prize”

70 He held aloft the gift, a white unmarred,

“And should she be so honored, to advise

Us, and how best to keep our solemn vow devise.”

With that Atlantia’s Crown with tears of joy

Gave Muirean Ocean’s orb as symbol bright

75 Of office. Then, like Ulysses did from Troy,

After too long from home found coasts in sight

Well-known, and pilgrims from their ships alight.

Alaric and Yseult hard lessons learn’d

Th’ importance due to innovation’s light.

80 Atlantia’s Crowns and hopes both have return’d

And spheres in sky and Muirean’s hand both with light burn’d.

Some mornings now, when I walk to the shore,

A spiral’d conch is left by ebbing tide,

Or pools of swirling sea somehow endure,

85 Reminding me of Mother Nature’s wide

Diversity of life, unsatisfied

By stillness, always seeking better place.

Just so, Atlantia’s Crowns adapt with pride,

Our Graces rise the tide, lift all with grace:

90 Where wheels of bronze may break, our currents change, outpace.

Our sea-side land like Venus is reborn

Each generation rising higher still;

Our population now Olympus-borne --

From th’ ocean, heaven’s promise we fulfill,

95 In arts and armor both this law instill:

That Beauty most deserving of acclaim

Is that which grows and rises t’each new hill.

Now know you how Atlantia got her name --

Go forth! Each sunrise may you never be the same.

FIN

Elizabethan court poetry can be largely defined by a few particular elements. One important element for our own work is what George Wauchope calls, “ the spirit of nationality fostered by the English Reformation”. This spirit of nationality will be crucial to the mythologizing spirit of Atlantia’s founding which undergirds this piece. In order to support this national poetics, we know that much court poetry, like Shakespeare’s, was created in part by royal patrons like Elizabeth herself. In fact, Edmund Spenser dedicated his entire epic to “The most High, Mightie, and Magnificent Emperesse, Renowned for Pietie, Vertue, and all Gratious Government, Elizabeth” (“The Faerie Queene”).

The English zeitgeist of the second half of the 16th century was proud and domineering, given their global status as a nation during this time. “The spirit of the old sea-kings lived again in Drake and his bold buccaneers, who swept the proud Spaniards from the seas. With the defeat of the Invincible Armada, the greatest naval expedition of modern times, the fear of Spanish and Catholic domination rolled away” (Wauchope). “The Song of the Pearl” will also invoke these feelings of a naval tradition, which suits Atlantia’s coastal position and nautical imagery just as well as it did Elizabeth’s England. These sea-faring ideas are echoed throughout Shakespeare’s bibliography, from Hamlet’s pirate adventures to the Caribbean exoticisms implied in “The Tempest”.

The final major theme is a common one for the Renaissance throughout Europe: classical revival. Wauchope, in his introduction to “The Faerie Queene” explains that “ during the reign of the Virgin Queen [was] a profound quickening of the national consciousness, ... arousing an intense curiosity to know and to imitate the rich treasures of the classics” (Wauchope). During the Elizabethan Era, poets were “especially concerned with harmonious effects and with complex and ornate rhetorical styles modelled on classical style” (Grace 2). These ornate styles encourage central techniques like extended metaphor and classical allusion, both of which are passed down to Edmund Spenser and his contemporaries from the Greek and Roman epics. We can see all of these specific techniques in Shakespeare. His work is well-known today, and some of the common elements of his works and times will be used in “The Song of the Pearl”, including iambic pentameter, classical allusion, and extended metaphor/simile. Consider one of his well-known soliloquies from Romeo & Juliet:

Romeo & Juliet, 3.2.1-16

Analysis

1 Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds,

2 Toward Phoebus’ lodging. Such a wagoner

3 As Phaeton would whip you to the west

4 And bring in cloudy night immediately.

5 Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night,

6 That runaways’ eyes may wink, and Romeo

7 Leap to these arms, untalked of and unseen.

8 Lovers can see to do their amorous rites

9 By their own beauties, or, if love be blind,

10 It best agrees with night. Come, civil night,

11 Thou sober-suited matron, all in black,

12 And learn me how to lose a winning match

13 Played for a pair of stainless maidenhoods.

14 Hood my unmanned blood bating in my cheeks,

15 With thy black mantle, till strange love, grow bold,

16 Think true love acted simple modesty.

1-4

Here we see classical allusion, a common technique in Shakespeare -- in this case to Phoebus (Apollo) and his sun chariot. These three lines also serve as an extended metaphor for the slowly setting sun. We see this technique again in lines:

11-15

The extended metaphor used throughout these lines the personification of night as a black-hooded, shrouded, “matron”, which serves to inform the imagery throughout these lines.

1-16

Of course, these lines are iambic pentameter.

These techniques are commonly used in long-form poetry. We see them appear again in our main period exemplar text, Spenser’s “The Faerie Queene”. A closer analysis of this work better informs my adaptation of the style.

Primary Period Exemplar: “The Faerie Queene”

Edmund Spenser wrote this piece between 1590 and 1596, and did not actually live to complete the work (Wauchope). However, he did write extensively to Sir Walter Raleigh about the work in 1589, both providing us a look inside the workings of the piece, and inside the deep connections between court poets and the courtly nobles who surrounded Elizabeth. Spenser confirms his use of classical revival when he explains to Raleigh that he, “ followed all the antique poets historicall[sp]: first Homer...then Virgil.” (“Letter”). He goes on in the letter to admit that he is mythologizing the national figures around him: “I conceive the most excellent and glorious person of our soveraine the Queene, and her kingdome in Faery land”; I will also use this spirit of nationality in my glorified versions of historical figures from our kingdom. Finally, we can see all of these elements present in the text he finally published near the end of the 16th century:

“The Faerie Queene” Invocation

“The Fairie Queen” Canto II

I

Lo I the man,° whose Muse whilome did maske,

As time her taught, in lowly Shepheards weeds,

Am now enforst a far unfitter taske,

For trumpets sterne to chaunge mine Oaten reeds,

And sing of Knights and Ladies° gentle deeds;

Whose prayses having slept in silence long,

Me, all too meane, the sacred Muse areeds

To blazon broade emongst her learned throng:

Fierce warres and faithfull loves shall moralize my song.

II

Helpe then, O holy Virgin chiefe of nine,°

Thy weaker Novice to performe thy will;

Lay forth out of thine everlasting scryne

The antique rolles, which there lye hidden still,

Of Faerie knights° and fairest Tanaquill,°

Whom that most noble Briton Prince° so long

Sought through the world, and suffered so much ill,

That I must rue his undeserved wrong:

O helpe thou my weake wit, and sharpen my dull tong.

CANTO II

The guilefull great Enchaunter parts

the Redcrosse Knight from truth,

Into whose stead faire Falshood steps,

and workes him wofull ruth.

I

BY this the Northerne wagoner° had set

His sevenfold teme° behind the stedfast starre,°

That was in Ocean waves yet never wet,

But firme is fixt, and sendeth light from farre

To all that in the wide deepe wandring arre:

And chearefull Chaunticlere° with his note shrill

Had warned once, that Phœbus fiery carre°

In hast was climbing up the Easterne hill,

Full envious that night so long his roome did fill.

.

These passages from “The Faerie Queene” properly demonstrate all of the elements which define courtly poetry during the reign of Queen Elizabeth:

• Heavy inspiration from classical revival, including an Invocation and classical allusion. In “The Faerie Queene” Invocation, Chaucer writes of himself as a “lo man” who is in need of a “Muse” (1). He asks for the “Virgin chiefe of nine” (a reference to the nine Muses) to help him, to “sharpen [his] dull tong” ( 18). These references to classical figures continue in Canto II on the right: he describes “Phoebus fiery carre” (7), exactly as Shakespeare did earlier in this documentation. Finally, I, too, will use the invocation as an opportunity to evoke classical figures to aid in my poetry.

• Iambic pentameter, save for the “Spenserian verse”. All of “The Faerie Queene” is written in Spenserian verse, an odd interlocking rhyme scheme: ABABBCBCC. We can see this throughout both exemplars. In Canto II the rhyming words are “set/starre/wet/farre/arre/shrill/carre/hill/fill”. The other structural oddity of this style is that the last line in each stanza (as seen in both example stanzas) is an alexandrine, or iambic hexameter -- six pairs of unstress/stressed syllables instead of the usual five:

“O helpe thou my weake wit, and sharpen my dull tong” (Intro 18).

u / u / u / u / u / u /

“Full envious that night so long his roome did fill” (Canto II 9).

u / u / u / u / u / u /

The only other formal concern for Spenser’s work is that he begins each Canto with a small ballad stanza epigraph summarizing the contents of that Canto. I have done the same for each of the four Cantos in “The Song of the Pearl”.

• The extended metaphor, imagery, and allegorical nature of epic courtly verse, including it’s particular themes. Spenser carefully designed his poetry to provide, as he describes, “ a continued Allegorie... to fashion a gentleman or noble person in vertuous and gentle discipline” (“Letter”). This allegorical purpose will be continued in my work, in which lessons of the founding royal class establish moral expectations of the populace. We see this in Spenser’s Introduction to “The Faerie Queene”, in which he asks that readers, “moralize [his] song” (9). Further, much of his work, including his introduction, is concerned with “worship of beauty” as Wauchope puts it. The classical version of beauty, as evidenced by the cover image to this documentation and honored in both Shakespeare and Spenser’s works:

“Spenser's idea of the spiritually beautiful includes the true and the good. Sensuous beauty is seen in the forms of external nature, like the morning mist and sunshine, the rose gardens, the green elders, and the quiet streams. His ideal of perfect sensuous and spiritual beauty combined is found in womanhood.” (Wauchope)

In Shakespeare, Romeo’s invocation of Juliet’s beauty throughout his soliloquies fit this ideal, and Spenser’s worship of Una in “The Faerie Queene”, and Elizabeth more centrally, also suits this concept. In my work, I will also follow the worship of beauty by using natural imagery, classical allusion to Venus, and references to the virtues and vices of beauty as central to the moralistic message of the piece.

To summarize: my epic verse combines both the thematic and the technical expectations of the late 16th century court poets of Elizabethan England:

Themes

• Classical Revival

  • Worship of Beauty

• Spirit of Nationality

  • Romanticized past

  • Apotheosis of National Identity

• Naval Tradition

• Allegorical Moralizing

• Romanticism/Humanism

Techniques

• Classical allusion

  • Invocation

• Extended metaphor/simile

• Ornate styling & poetic diction

• Allegory

• Iambic Pentameter

• Spenserian Verse structure

• Mythologized courtly figures

Plot Structure

“The Song of the Pearl” is a 44-stanza, 4-Canto Spenserian poem which follows the foundation of the Principality of Atlantia. Our first Prince and Princess, Alaric and Yseult, once King and Queen of the East, set out to sea to learn from other kingdoms how best to rule the new Principality the seek to found. However, their fleet falls prey to Neptune’s storms, and they are marooned on the island of Atlantis, long thought sunk beneath the ocean. Once there, they discover that the islands inhabitants long ago, under the guidance of Atlas himself, mythical king of the island, gave up their flesh and blood for perfected, statuesque stony forms and eternal life. The price: all happiness, laughter, and cheer, as well as all sadness and war.

Atlas shows them the island and all of its powers, and then asks if Alaric and Yseult might give up the variance of humanity (which caused their suffering and stranding in the first place) in order to stay forever on the island. Realizing the loss of human creativity, change, and pursuit of happiness was too great a cost, Alaric refuses. They are ambushed early the next morning as they repair a ship to leave, but Yseult realizes Atlas’ stone men have a weakness: they freeze when they hear singing, as it stirs the variety of emotions they no longer have. Her court bard, Muirean, continues to sing improvised verse upon verse as the entire crew loads and boards the ship and escapes, not stopping until they are out of sight of the island.

As reward for her mighty act of human ingenuity, positivity, and adaptation, Muirean is made the Mother of Pearls, and the Principal of the Order of the Pearl (which is true to Atlantean history). Alaric and Yseult learn that refusing to accept the good AND bad of variable human life is unacceptable, and that true beauty lies in the constant change of Nature. They name their new Principality Atlantia as a reminder of this fact.

It would be far too arduous a task to unpack the entirety of the 44 stanza piece, so it must suffice to provide examples from throughout the text for each of the significant themes and techniques necessary to properly match the historical expectations.

Themes of the Elizabethan Court in “The Song of the Pearl”

Classical Revival

Classical allusion fills “The Song of the Pearl” from the very beginning. This poem begins, as Spenser’s did, with an Invocation of “Anadyomen[e]” (I.5), one of Venus’ epithets which represented her reborn form emerging from the Ocean in classical Greek theology. She is the primary muse of this piece, as she is the perfect example of the worship of beauty central to the Renaissance classic revival; Venus inspires aesthetic pleasure, visual beauty which in turn lifts the mind. My begging her to “make my heart more strong and verse less weak!” (I.18) is a direct reference to Spenser’s own request of the Muse to “helpe thou my weake wit, and sharpen my dull tong.” (I.18), and even occurs on the same line in each of our pieces.

Classical allusions continue throughout, including “ Neptune’s upturn’d realm” (I.46), “Argive, Turk, and Roman lives” (II.23), “Ephesus” (II. 33), “Atlas” (III.1), and “Athenian dukes” (III.20), all using the Latinate and anachronistic medievalist language that our Renaissance predecessors would have used instead of Greek names and titles. And of course, the epic, adventurous nature of the piece and its use of Cantos as a structural device mimics Spenser’s own imitation of the Italian masters before him.

Spirit of Nationality

This piece is centered on the creation of the Kingdom of Atlantia, and how it’s founding was inspired by surpassing a mythological, literally god-like civilization. Alaric and Yseult go from historic Prince and Princess to medeivalized heroes in this telling, satisfying the expectation of a romanticized past in this theme: Alaric bravely sacrifices himself for his men several times in the third Canto, and also uses his “scabbard clearéd longsword” (III.96) to strike down several stony enemies. Yseult herself is the picture of creativity and compassion, guiding men lost at sea with a lamp in Canto II, and cleverly tricking Atlas into evil monologuing in Canto III. They both comment how “Atlas’ changeless kingdom taught us well” (IV.37), how that “stagnant empire” (IV.39) was actually weak due to its lack of risk and innovation. The central theme of this piece is that Atlantia is incredible, peerless, because it “changing e’er shall be” (IV.45). Mythologizing the lineage of a kingdom in order to legitimize it goes back as far as the classics themselves: the Romans claimed to be descended from the mythological hero Aeneas using The Aeneid as justification. Finally, the speaker-poet who bookends the piece with their own commentary suggests that “each generation [rises] higher still” and that we Atlantians actually keep “heaven’s promise” (IV. 92,94). Associating our Kingdom with both heroes and gods is exactly what Spenser does in “The Faerie Queene”, explicitly calling the Fae monarch in the piece “Gloriana” (I.20), one of Elizabeth I’s common sobriquets, or descriptive re-namings.

Naval Tradition

The naval tradition of last-period England is a perfect fit for Atlantia’s nautical imagery. The speaker-poet bookends “The Song of the Pearl” with descriptive scenes at the seaside, in which his observations of the ocean serve to introduce the central themes of the work. He describes Atlantia as “our sea-side land” (IV. 91), and notices how the tide pools remind him of Nature’s wonderful adaptive spirit, which he claims Atlantia has as well. The use of Venus Anadyomene is an intentional oceanic choice as well, connecting the sea with the idea of classical beauty worship -- the imagery serves the symbolism, and the symbolism serves the thematic purposes in multiple ways.

More literally, Alaric and Yseult do sail into the Ocean to discover a new land to study from: their fleet was “gilt more bright than laden ships of Spain” (I.39), an “unpeer’d armada” (II.43). A boat is their savior at the end of the piece as well, establishing Atlantia as a naval power. Atlantis, too, is a sea-going empire, “rigid sea-wolves” (I.90) who plundered Mediterranean coasts first in Plato’s brief description of them, as well as in my piece. Plato’s suggestions about the island nation also serve to connect the naval themes to the classical revivalism -- it is absolutely possible that Elizabethan writers might choose Plato just as soon as choose Ovid.

Techniques of “The Faerie Queene” in “The Song of the Pearl”

There are far too many integrated examples to go through them all, but the structural and technical choices of Spenser’s exemplar are present in my poem as well. It is divided into 4 Cantos of 11 stanzas each. Each stanza is written in Spenserian Verse: the first stanza of the second Canto rhymes as “crew / bowed / few / thou / cloud / depart / found / start / heart” (II.1-9), which is ABABBCBCC, just like Spenser’s. I did have to adjust some near or slant rhymes throughout the piece, but I maintained perfect rhyme as best I could. We see Spenser make some similar concessions: he ryhmes “have” with “crave” (I.22,23), and “gate” with “retrate” (meaning “retreat”)(I.112,113): the actual pronunciation of many of these vowel sounds varied during this time period, and spellings as well, but it is fairly safe to say that he may have stretched acceptable usages to suit his verse -- and I will do the same. Also, each stanza does end with an alexandrine, such as:

“Us, and how best to keep our solemn vow devise” (IV.72)

x / u / u / u / u / u /

In this particular case the first syllable is a neutral one, but you can clearly see the six stresses in an alternating pattern, creating iambic hexameter. Finally, I also include the ballad stanza epigraphs before each Canto, as Spenser did: from the 4th Canto:

Spenser’s Epigraph, “The Faerie Queene” Canto I

My Epigraph, Canto III

The guilefull great Enchaunter parts

the Redcrosse Knight from truth,

Into whose stead faire Falshood steps,

and workes him wofull ruth.

In early morn, against our Crowns

Rejected Atlas stings;

His weakness is in time exposed:

to freeze when our bard sings.

The ballad meter is maintained: in both of our ballad stanzas the 1st and 3rd lines are iambic tetrameter, and the 2nd and 4th lines are iambic trimeter. The rhyme is “Crowns / stings / exposed / sings”, or ABCB. Spenser does the same in his epigraph with “parts / truth / steps / ruth”. Spenser’s stanza summarizes how the Enchanter tricks the Redcross Knight in the Canto, while mine similarly foreshadows Atlas’ surprise attack against our heroes.

Metaphors, symbolism, and direct allegories abound in “The Song of the Pearl”, just like in “The Faerie Queene”. Atlas himself is representative of the negative aspects of rule: he is proud, intransigent, and obsessed with his legacy. He compares Alaric and Yseult to “wooden toys” compared to himself (II.96), and called Yseult a “frail mortal thing” in order to frighten her (III.73). His empire of stone-men who can no longer sing is a direct allegory for the result of refusing to learn, change, and grow -- his kingdom receded from relevance until it became literally lost to time as the world changed without them. In the fourth Canto of “The Song of the Pearl” Yseult herself directly states the allegory, that this experience created “Pearls of Wisdom” (IV.36) for her: that the truest beauty to strive for was “man’s ever-forward pace” (IV. 40).