Acprof 9780195340051 Chapter 1

The Rhythms of Poetry and Song
Songs in Motion: Rhythm and Meter in the

German Lied
Yonatan Malin
Print publication date: 2010

Print ISBN-13: 9780195340051
Published to Oxford Scholarship Online: September 2010
DOI: 10.1093/acprof:oso/9780195340051.001.0001

Yonatan Malin
DOI:10.1093/acprof:oso/9780195340051.003.0001
Abstract and Keywords

This is the first of two introductory chapters; it covers aspects of poetic meter
and rhythm, introduces declamatory‐schema analysis, and compares Nägeli's
notion of “polyrhythm” in the Lied (in an article from 1817) with recent
approaches to song analysis (Cone and Hoeckner). Declamatory schemas specify
the placement of poetic feet and lines in a given musical meter. A survey of
declamatory schemas in Hensel's Opp. 1 and 7 collections, Schubert's
Winterreise, and Schumann's Dichterliebe is provided. It has been assumed that
there is a simple default for setting tetrameter lines; this chapter shows that
tetrameter schemas vary both within and among songs. Declamatory‐schema
analysis also extends pioneering work by Fehn and Hallmark on pentameter line
settings. The focus here is on rhythm and meter in the poetry and vocal lines;
chapter 2 adds piano accompaniments.
Keywords: poetic meter, declamatory schemas, song analysis, Nägeli, Cone, Hoeckner, Hensel,
Winterreise, Dichterliebe
The nineteenth‐century Lied has a number of characteristic rhythmic features.

The poems, first of all, are commonly in accentual‐syllabic verse, that is, with
alternating patterns of accented and unaccented syllables. Poetic lines tend to
be short, with three or four accented syllables per line, and the lines typically
combine to form couplets, which in turn combine to form quatrains. Cross
rhymes (abab) are common, as are other patterns that reinforce the rhythms of
the couplet and quatrain (abcb and aabb). There are then common procedures
for setting these poetic rhythms to music. Settings are mostly syllabic, and
accented syllables are set on the beat in a given musical meter. Lines are
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commonly set in two‐measure phrase segments, couplets in four‐measure

phrases, and quatrains in eight‐measure strophes. In simple folklike songs, the
piano supports the voice with chords, frequently in arpeggiated textures. In
more complex settings, the piano generates further rhythmic and melodic layers
to reinforce the mood of the poem or depict particular forms of motion: walking
motion, waves in the water, the beating of the heart, wind in the trees, or the fall
of a frozen teardrop.
These are the basic rhythms of the Lied; they are fairly simple. And yet each
poet and composer, each poem and song, each quatrain and musical strophe,
each couplet and musical phrase, each line and phrase segment, each poetic foot
and rhythmic gesture may work within, against, or outside these norms in a
variety of ways. It is this range of rhythmic and metric possibilities at multiple
levels that is so fascinating, for it contributes to the expressive range and
richness of the genre. The purpose of this chapter is to introduce the range of
rhythmic possibilities and to develop a set of concepts and tools for discussing
them. We will focus here mainly on the poem and vocal line; interactions with
the piano will be considered in chapter 2 and in the analyses of chapters 3–7.
Much has been made of the transformation that takes place when poetic
rhythms are set to music.1 At a basic level, poetic meter is not the same as
musical (p.4) meter. The patterns of accented and unaccented syllables do not
typically form regular (i.e., perceptually isochronous) pulses like those of
musical meter. Musical settings also specify the rhythm of performance to a
much greater degree; they are in this sense particular “readings” of the poems
in time. Even with agreement about poetic meter and further levels of
accentuation, there are a variety of ways that one can read a given poem.2 There
are, furthermore, multiple forms of stress in musical settings, which may or may
not coincide with verbal stress and the rhythmic shape of poetic lines. In
addition to the accentual structure of musical meter, there are rhythmic stresses
generated by melodic contour, dynamic accent, agogic accent, change of
harmony, and other features. (For more on musical accent and its relation to
rhythm and meter, see chap. 2.)
One may not always want to emphasize the differences between poetic and
musical rhythms, however, for many of the poems set in the genre of the Lied
were intended from the beginning for musical setting and may have been
composed with musical rhythms in mind. Goethe, whose poetic oeuvre has been
described as the “source and catalyst for the Lied,” frequently wrote poems to
preexistent tunes.3 Goethe also famously wrote in his poem “An Lina,” “Nur
nicht lesen! immer singen!” (Only don't read it! Always sing it!).4 Interestingly,
the act of poetic reading itself becomes paradigmatic in the later nineteenth
century, and this affects the manner of musical setting.
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We will begin, nonetheless, with poetic meter and rhythm, and then consider
musical settings. This will help clarify the defaults and range of possibilities for
musical settings of poetic texts in the genre of the Lied. It will also focus our
attention on the expressive and representational aspects of poetic meter and
rhythm. These frequently do carry over and become part of the song, even as
they are re‐formed within the periodic structures of musical rhythm and meter.
Poetic Meter and Rhythm

Poetic Meter
Meter in accentual‐syllabic poetry is defined by two things: (1) the patterning of
accented and unaccented syllables, and (2) the line length measured in the
number of accented syllables or “poetic feet.” Both of these features, however,
may be either (p.5) regular or irregular.5 “Free rhythm” in German poetry uses
variable numbers of unaccented syllables between each accented syllable, and
variable line lengths. Goethe's “Ganymed,” for instance, begins,
Wíe im Mórgenglánze As in the morning brilliance
Dú rings mich ánglühst, You glow, surrounding me,
Frǘhling, Gelíebter! Spring, beloved!
The first line has three poetic feet (= three accented syllables), the second and
third have two. The first line proceeds with a regular alteration of accented and
unaccented syllables; the second and third lines have pairs of unaccented
syllables between the first and second accented syllables. The second line
proceeds straight through, the third has a comma, an internal caesura. There
are no rhymes to create periodic structures and associations. The focus is on
each word, line, and phrase, as they contribute to the syntax and expression of
the moment. As we shall see, musical settings may work such poetic rhythms
into recurring, more strictly periodic structures, or they may follow the poetic
irregularities, while still adding their own pulse layers. (We shall explore
settings of “Ganymed” by Schubert and Wolf in chap. 7.)
Regular poetic meters occur in a variety of common patterns. As we have noted

already, quatrains frequently have trimeter lines (with three accented syllables
per line), tetrameter lines (with four accented syllables per line), or a
combination of the two. When trimeter and tetrameter lines combine, they
frequently do so in alternating patterns, with the tetrameter line first and the
trimeter line second. This pairing marks out the couplets, as in the following
quatrain from Heine's “Warum sind denn die Rosen so blass” (Why then are the
roses so pale), set in Hensel's Op. 1 No. 3:
Warúm sind dénn die Rósen so bláss, Why then are the roses so pale,
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O sprích mein Liéb warúm? O speak, my love, why?
Warúm sind dénn im grǘnen Grás Why then in the green grass
Die bláuen Veílchen so stúmm? Are the blue violets so silent?
The tetrameter lines lead on, the trimeter lines end earlier and create a stronger
sense of closure. Notice that the couplet rhythm is also reinforced by the rhyme
(p.6) scheme, abab, and that it aligns with poetic logic and syntax. The second
line reiterates the first with an address to the beloved, and the third and fourth
lines combine into a single sentence. Both couplets begin with the question
“Warum sind denn . . .?”
In readings of “Warum sind denn die Rosen so blass” and other poems like it,
there is a natural pause after the trimeter lines. This is part of what creates a
sense of closure at the end of each couplet, and it translates into longer pauses
in musical settings. It has also led poetic theorists to describe trimeter lines as
tetrameter lines with a silent last foot.6 Even when a poem consists entirely of
trimeter lines, one may read each line with a silent “beat” at the end. We shall
nonetheless distinguish between trimeter lines and tetrameter lines, for the
difference has significant implications for musical settings.
Now let us turn to the patterning of accented and unaccented syllables, again
with the quatrain from Heine's “Warum sind denn die Rosen so blass” as an
initial example. We may represent the accentual structure of the quatrain above
schematically with “‐” for the accented syllables and “u” for the unaccented
syllables:
u ‐ u ‐ u ‐uu‐
u ‐ u ‐ u ‐
u ‐ u ‐ u ‐u‐
u ‐ u ‐ u u‐
The syllables thus alternate in a regular pattern, with exceptions in the first and
fourth lines. By grouping syllables from the beginning of each line we get a
series of iambs—disyllabic feet in the pattern unaccented‐accented (u ‐). (The
added unaccented syllables in the first and fourth lines create anapests (u u ‐);
we shall come back to these presently.) Grouping poetic feet from line
beginnings is a convention of poetic analysis, but it is not unrelated to
experience. Contrast the feel of “Warum sind denn die Rosen so blass” with the
first stanza from Müller's “Wasserflut” (Deluge), set in Schubert's Winterreise
No. 6:
Mánche Trä́n’ aus meínen Aúgen Many a tear from my eyes
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Íst gefállen ín den Schnée; Has fallen in the snow;
Seíne kálten Flócken sáugen Its cold flakes drink up
Dúrstig eín das heísse Wéh. thirstily the hot sorrow.
The syllables here may be grouped in trochees—disyllabic feet in the pattern

accented‐unaccented (‐ u). The “downbeat” beginning, together with the regular
alternation of accented and unaccented syllables, creates a stronger or starker
rhythm, something less flowing and easy. Kayser describes trochaic meter as
somewhat harder, more staccato, and harsher than iambic.7 Trochaic meter is
also less amenable to variation, as we shall see. Trochaic meter is less common
than iambic in German, as in English poetry.
(p.7) The trochee and iamb are the two forms of disyllabic feet. The trisyllabic
feet are the upbeat‐oriented anapest (u u ‐), the downbeat oriented dactyl (‐ u u),
and the amphibrach with an accented syllable in the middle (u ‐ u). It will be
useful on occasion to have these terms at hand, but we will be less concerned
with the differences between them. As Kayser observes, groupings that yield the
three trisyllabic feet are sometimes arbitrary.8 The main point is that trisyllabic
feet include pairs of unaccented syllables between accented syllables, and thus
they generate faster or more fluid forms of motion. Mörike's “Um
Mitternacht” (At Midnight), set by Wolf (No. 19 from the Mörike songs),
illustrates this beautifully. Mörike begins in iambic meter and then adds faster
moving trisyllabic feet in lines 5–8 (the translation is provided below):
Gelássen stiég die Nácht an's Lánd, u‐u‐u‐u‐
Lehnt trä́umend án der Bérge Wánd, u‐u‐u‐u‐
Ihr Áuge siéht die góldne Wáge nún u‐u‐u‐u‐u‐
Der Zeít in gleíchen Schálen stílle rúhn; u‐u‐u‐u‐u‐
Und kécker ráuschen die Quéllen hervór, u‐u‐uu‐uu‐
Sie síngen der Mútter, der Nácht, ins Óhr u‐uu‐uu‐u‐
Vom Táge, u‐u
Vom héute gewésenen Táge. u‐uu‐uu‐u
Calmly the night rose onto the land,
Leans dreamily against the wall of the mountains,
Her eye now sees the golden balance
Of time resting still in equal scales;
And the springs gush out more boldly,
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They sing into the ear of the mother, the night, Of the
day,
The day that was today.9
The “calm” disyllabic feet (iambs) depict the slow rise of night in lines 1–4; the
faster trisyllabic feet emerge with the bold and more energetic springs, which
oppose the night. With this poem in front of us, we may also note how Mörike
calibrates the poetic motion by shifting from iambic tetrameter (lines 1–2) to
iambic pentameter (lines 3–4). Lines 3–4 and 5–6 have the same number of
syllables, but whereas lines 3–4 feel measured, lines 5–6 rush by impulsively. The
short line seven, “Vom Tage,” puts a brake on things before the reminiscence of
the last line. (I will consider the enjambment in lines 3–4 presently.)
Some poems shift more freely between disyllabic and trisyllabic feet. Here are
the first four lines from Eichendorff's “In der Fremde” (In a Foreign Land), set in
Schumann's Op. 39 No. 1 and Brahms's Op. 3 No. 5:
Aus der Heímat hínter den Blítzen rót uu‐u‐uu‐u‐
Da kómmen die Wólken hér, u‐uu‐u‐
Aber Váter und Mútter sind lánge tódt, uu‐uu‐uu‐u‐
Es kénnt mich dort keíner méhr. u‐uu‐u‐
From my home beyond the red lightning
come the clouds,
But father and mother are long dead,
No one knows me there anymore.
(p.8) In this case, there is still some patterning, which reinforces the couplet
structure and alternation of tetrameter and trimeter lines. The first and third are
tetrameter lines; they have the same accentual structure except in the span
between the first and second accented syllables. The second and fourth are
trimeter lines, with the same accentual structure. This kind of fluid patterning
creates yet further shaping for the lines, couplets, and quatrains.
Thus far we have considered so‐called free rhythm in German poetry, the
common occurrence of trimeter and tetrameter lines and their role in forming
couplets and quatrains, the contrast between iambic and trochaic meters, and
the placement and rhythmic effects of trisyllabic feet. There are two remaining
issues that will be referenced frequently in the metric analysis of poems: the
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accentual nature of line endings and the use of pentameter and other line
lengths.
Since the line is such a basic rhythmic unit in poetry, the ending of the line
strongly affects its overall feel, much as a musical cadence affects the feel of its
phrase. Lines may have unaccented or accented endings; the unaccented ending
is open (relatively speaking) and is frequently used for the first line of a couplet,
the accented ending is closed (relatively speaking) and is frequently used for the
second line of a couplet.10 This basic pattern occurs in the quatrain from
“Wasserflut,” quoted above; here is the first couplet again: “Mánche Trä́n’ aus
meínen Aúgen / íst gefállen ín den Schnée.” In poems such as “Wasserflut,”
which are in trochaic tetrameter, the unaccented ending leads on directly to the
accented “downbeat” that begins the following line. In iambic poems, the
unaccented ending is followed by an unaccented line beginning. Recall also that
one may read trimeter lines, both iambic and trochaic, with a silent fourth
“beat”; this affects the flow from one line to the next. As we shall see, there are
varying options for the treatment of unaccented line endings in musical settings,
depending on the line length, the chosen musical meter, and the relative
continuity or discontinuity desired in the musical setting.
Trimeter and tetrameter lines are normative in the Lied, but other line lengths
are not uncommon. Schubert's “Gretchen am Spinnrade” (Gretchen at the
Spinning Wheel) is perhaps the most famous setting of a poem with dimeter
lines. Here is the refrain of Goethe's poem:
Meine Rúh ist hín, My peace is gone,
Mein Hérz ist schwér; My heart is heavy;
Ich fínde sie nímmer I shall find them never
Und nímmerméhr. And nevermore.
(p.9) The brevity of the lines is a rarely mentioned factor in the poem and
Schubert's groundbreaking setting. The implication for analysis is not only that
each text line is short, but also that the link from line to line in both text and
music is variable and important. In the other direction, Schumann's “Ich grolle
nicht” (I Bear No Grudge), from Dichterliebe, is a well‐known setting of a
pentameter poem. Heine's poem begins
Ich grólle nícht, und wénn das Hérz auch brícht,

Éwig verlórnes Liéb! ich grólle nícht.
I bear no grudge, though my heart may break,
Eternally lost love! I bear no grudge.11
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Schumann repeats sections of lines and breaks them up in various ways in his
setting, and thus the sense of pentameter lines is no longer so clear.12 What is
nonetheless interesting and typical of pentameter lines is the fact that they
include more internal caesuras than do shorter lines. Schumann's separation
and repetition of line segments is one response to these caesuras; we will
consider others and the issue of how composers fit the five accented syllables
into predominantly binary rhythmic structures. Hexameter lines are not very
common in the Lied. We will consider the particular hexameter structures of
asclepiadic odes by Hölty in connection with Brahms's settings in chapter 6.
Poetic Rhythm
The recurring patterns of stress and line that define poetic meter get us only so
far toward a full understanding of poetic motion. There are further variations
and subtleties of stress and flow, rhythmic effects that may work with or against
the poetic meter and that may or may not be reflected in the musical setting.
The relationship between poetic rhythm and meter is analogous to the
relationship between musical rhythm and meter. In both cases, “meter” refers to
recurring patterns that set up expectations for the listener and reader, and
“rhythm” refers to the individuality of stress or durational patterning. In both
cases, rhythm and meter are conceptual categories that overlap in practice.
Recurring rhythmic patterns, for instance, may be heard as “metric,” and meter
may be shaped in particular “rhythmic” ways. We shall return to this issue in
chapter 2. The main point here will be to develop a further sensitivity to poetic
flow, beyond the basics of poetic meter.
We will be concerned with three rhythmic effects. First, there are substitutions
of poetic feet, most commonly trochees (‐ u) in place of iambs (u ‐). Second,
there are degrees of accentuation beyond the basic accented/unaccented
dichotomy. Third, there are effects that undermine the periodicity of the poetic
line: caesuras (p.10) within lines (mentioned above in connection with the
pentameter lines of “Ich grolle nicht”) and enjambments linking one line to the
next.
Heine's “Hör’ ich das Liedchen klingen” (When I hear the song ringing out), set
in Schumann's Dichterliebe, is in iambic trimeter, but it begins with a trochee.
Here is the first quatrain:
Hö́r’ ich das Líedchen klíngen, When I hear the song ringing,
Das éinst die Líebste sáng, which once my sweetheart sang,
So wíll mir die Brúst zerspríngen, then my heart wants to burst,
Vor wíldem Schmérzendráng. from the pressure of savage pain.
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It is typical that the trochee substitutes for an iamb at the beginning of a line, as
here. The “downbeat” beginning creates a particular form of emphasis, a jolt or
call to attention. In “Hör'ich das Liedchen” the jolt may be heard as an emotional
response of the poetic persona.
Polysyllabic words have accentual structures that generally determine the poetic
reading; in contrast, successions of monosyllabic words may allow for ambiguity
or multiple plausible readings. Thus, for instance, the accentual structure of
“Gelássen” determines how one reads the beginning of Wolf's “Um Mitternacht,”
cited above, but the following line from Geibel's “Gondellied” (Song of the
Gondolier) may be read in two different ways: “dann schwébt mit úns in
Mó́ndesprácht” or “dánn schwebt mit úns in Móndesprácht.” Hensel sets this
line multiple times in her song Op. 1 No. 6, and she uses both readings (see ex.
3.9).
The line “Fremd bin ich eingezogen” (A stranger I arrived) from Müller's “Gute
Nacht” (Goodnight) has an interesting accentual profile, which is beautifully
reflected in Schubert's setting (Winterreise No. 1). The basic meter is iambic,
“Fremd bín ich éingezógen,” but a reading should also emphasize the first word,
“Fremd” (a stranger). This word indicates the Wanderer's alienation from
society, a central theme of the entire cycle. As both Hans Gál and Susan Youens
have observed, Schubert provides accents for both of the first two monosyllabic
words.13 “Fremd” receives a registral accent since it is the highest note in the
phrase, and “bin” receives a metrical accent as it arrives on the downbeat (see
ex. 1.3).
Thus far we have been working at the lowest level of poetic rhythm and meter,
that of the individual poetic foot. We now shift up a level to consider the second
of the three rhythmic effects mentioned above, the relative weighting of
“accented” syllables in a given line. German writers sometimes indicate the
degree to which metric accents are filled (erfüllt), sounded (betont), or not.14
Following common practice in both German and English sources, we may
distinguish two basic levels of accent: the stronger accent with x́ (acute accent)
and the weaker accent with x̀ (grave accent). Thus, Müller's “Der Lindenbaum”
is in iambic trimeter, but the accentual structure may be further differentiated
as follows: (p.11)
Am Brúnnen vòr dem Tóre, By the well in front of the gate,
Da stéht ein Líndenbáum: There stands a linden tree:
Ich trä́umt’ in sèinem Schátten I dreamed in its shade
So mánchen sǘssen Tráum. So many sweet dreams.
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Thus, lines 1 and 3 have primary accents on the first and third poetic feet,
whereas lines 2 and 4 accent the three poetic feet about equally. One may also
read lines 2 and 4 with slightly less stress on the final accented syllables, “‐
baum” and “Traum.”
Degrees of poetic accent may be reflected in musical settings by metrical

placement and registral, dynamic, or rhythmic means. Example 1.1 provides
Schubert's vocal setting for the first quatrain from “Der
Lindenbaum” (Winterreise No. 5). The first and third accented syllables arrive on
downbeats of the 3/4 measures, and Schubert provides expressive emphasis to
“Línden(baum)” and “sǘssen (Traum)” with triplets descending from A and two‐
note melismas. We will consider the numerical annotations above the vocal line
presently.
The third aspect of poetic

rhythm that is of concern for
composers is the syntactic flow
within and between lines.
Individual poetic lines may flow
as syntactic units, or they may
be broken up by internal Example 1.1: Schubert, “Der
punctuation. Similarly, lines Lindenbaum,” Winterreise No. 5, mm. 9–
may consist of independent 16
syntactic phrases or even
complete sentences, or the
syntax may flow with enjambments from one line to the next. This syntactic flow
is itself an expressive feature of the poetic persona's voice.
The stanza above from “Der Lindenbaum” illustrates a complete alignment of

syntax, line, and couplet. The lines are syntactic phrases without internal
punctuation, and they combine to form sentences in each of the couplets. There
is then a natural transfer to the musical setting, with each couplet (= sentence)
set in a musical phrase (see ex. 1.1). All of this combines to form a simple and
direct mode of expression, a form of Volkstümlichkeit (folk quality, as it was then
imagined), and this in turn evokes the imagined idyll that the Wanderer recalls
and longs for. In comparison, syntax aligns with neither the poetic verse nor the
couplet in lines 5–8 of Eichendorff's “In der Fremde” (In a Foreign Land): (p.12)
5. Wie bald, wie bald kommt die How soon, how soon comes the
stille Zeit, quiet time,
Da ruhe ich auch, und über mir When I too will rest, and above
me
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Rauschet die schöne Will rustle the lovely forest

Waldeinsamkeit solitude
Und keiner mehr kennt mich auch And no one will remember me
hier. even here.
Line 5 combines with the beginning of line 6 to form a sentence (linked to the
following sentence by a comma and conjunction). The comma in the middle of
line 6 forms a strong internal caesura, and line 6 then flows over into line 7 in an
enjambment. It is notable here that the enjambment flows not from one line to
the next within a couplet, but over the potentially stronger boundary between
couplets. (The couplet structure remains evident in the abab rhyme structure.) It
is also pertinent to observe the nature of the enjambment: here it is an adverbial
phrase, “und über mir” (and above me), that is separated from its verb,
“rauschet” (will rustle). The poetic syntax sits awkwardly in the verses, and this
awkwardness reflects the poetic persona's alienation, here, now, and beyond
death.
The feel of an enjambment depends on the precise syntactic link from one line to
the next. In the following couplet from Mörike's “Um Mitternacht” (also quoted
above), there is a particularly smooth flow, as the noun “Wage” (scale) leads on
to its descriptive phrase “der Zeit” (of time):
Ihr Áuge siéht die góldne Wáge Her eye now sees the golden
nún balance
Der Zeít in gleíchen Schálen stílle Of time resting still in equal

rúhn; scales;
There is also, however, a tension in this enjambment. The first line could be a
complete syntactic unit, and it is only as we read on that we find it to be
incomplete. The tension is in our temporal experience, as what seems to be a
complete and closed moment is forced to flow onward. This in turn may be heard
in interpretive counterpoint with that which it names, the “golden balance of
time resting still in equal scales.” If the weights of time are past and future,
resting in balance at the present moment, the enjambment seems to oppose that
state of rest. On the other hand, the enjambment extends the present moment
smoothly through the full couplet of pentameter lines, allowing for an extended
poetic moment that ends with rest (Ruh).15
Relative flow within lines delineates poetic voices in Reinick's

“Liebestreu” (Faithful Love), set by Brahms in his early song Op. 3 No. 1. The
poem is a dialogue between mother and daughter; the first couplet of each
quatrain is spoken by the mother, the second by the daughter. The mother's
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agitation and determined insistence are evident in the repetitions and commas
in her lines:
“O versenk,’ o versenk’ dein Leid, mein Kind,

In die See, in die tiefe See!”
(p.13)
“Oh drown, oh drown your sorrow, my child
In the sea, in the deep sea!”
The syntax itself is agitated, broken. Similar broken syntax in the mother's
speech of the second stanza reflects her desire that the engagement be broken;
she says “brich sie ab, brich sie ab, mein Kind” (break it off, break it off, my
child). The daughter, strengthened by love, responds in more flowing syntax.
Here is her couplet in the first quatrain:
Ein Stein wohl bleibt auf des Meeres Grund,

Mein Leid kommt stets in die Höh.’
A stone may remain at the bottom of the sea,

My sorrow always rises to the surface.
Thus, the daughter's self‐assured speech has neither repetition nor internal
caesuras. Brahms's setting, which we will consider in chapter 6, replicates and
intensifies these differences of voice and poetic rhythm.
From Poetic Rhythm to Musical Rhythm

What were the defaults and range of possibilities available to composers as they
set the rhythms of verse in musical pitch and time? This question is not often
addressed, as such. There are many discussions of declamation, which address
relations between the accentual features of poetry and music, but these typically
focus on either declamatory naturalism, especially in Wolf, or faults of
declamation, especially in Brahms.16 They also typically focus on the individual
accented or unaccented syllable, not the setting of poetic lines or couplets as
gestalts.17 Most recently, (p.14) Harald Krebs has developed a systematic
methodology for identifying distortions of what he calls the “basic rhythm of
declamation” (BRD), focusing on Schumann's late songs.18 Here I focus on the
range of (mostly) non‐distortional patterns that are common in the Lied.
Basic‐Level Musical Rhythms

At the lowest level, one may attend to the rhythms used for individual poetic
feet. Thus, for instance, disyllabic feet may be set with equal or unequal
durations in the given meter. Trochees (‐ u) may be set in 4/4 with even quarters,
dotted rhythms, or a combination of the two (e.g., <𝅘𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅘𝅥>, <𝅘𝅥. 𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥. 𝅘𝅥𝅮>, or <𝅘𝅥. 𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥 𝅘𝅥>)
within the measure. Schumann begins “Auf einer Burg,” Op. 39 No. 7, with
consistently dotted rhythms, as in <𝅘𝅥. 𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥. 𝅘𝅥𝅮𝄍𝅘𝅥. 𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥. 𝅘𝅥𝅮> for “Éingeschláfen áuf der
Láuer.” (Eichendorff's poem is in trochaic tetrameter throughout.) He then shifts
to more even rhythms, as in <𝅘𝅥. 𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅘𝅥𝄍𝅘𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅘𝅥> for “Éingewáchsen Bárt und Háare.”
Page 12 of 36
Iambs generate analogous rhythms, beginning on an upbeat or pickup: <𝅘𝅥𝄍𝅘𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅘𝅥>,

<𝅘𝅥𝅮𝄍𝅘𝅥. 𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥.>, or <𝅘𝅥𝄍𝅘𝅥. 𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥>. These same durational patterns may be heard in
diminution or augmentation, for faster or slower declamation, and they may be
animated by two‐note melismas.
When the disyllabic foot is set in a duration that is divided metrically by three,
the setting will be uneven. In 6/8, for instance, we get <𝅘𝅥 𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥 𝅘𝅥𝅮> for trochees and
<𝅘𝅥𝅮𝄍 𝅘𝅥 𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥> for iambs. Hensel uses these rhythms in three out of the six of her Op.
1 songs (Nos. 1, 3, and 6), and this contributes to their lyrical qualities. Again,
the rhythm may be further animated with two‐note melismas. In slower
declamation there are further options. If the trochee is set in a measure of 6/8,
we may get <𝅘𝅥. 𝅘𝅥.> or <𝅘𝅥.𝆤𝅘𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅮> for trochees and <𝅘𝅥./𝅘𝅥.> or <𝅘𝅥𝅮𝄍𝅘𝅥.𝆤𝅘𝅥> for iambs.
Wolf uses both of these latter two rhythms in 12/8 for the iambic feet of “Um
Mitternacht” (Mörike). The first line, “Gelássen stíeg die Nácht ans Lánd,” for
instance, is set with the rhythm <𝅘𝅥𝅮𝄍𝅘𝅥.𝅘𝅥.𝅘𝅥.𝅘𝅥.𝄍𝅘𝅥.𝆤𝅘𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥.𝆤𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮𝄾>. If trochees or iambs are
set in a full measure of 4/4, the uneven rhythm may be even more uneven: <𝅗𝅥.. 𝅘𝅥𝅮
> and <𝅘𝅥𝅮𝄍𝅗𝅥..>. Schumann's “Im Rhein,” Op. 48 No. 6, begins with these double‐
dotted rhythms to convey the monumentality of the river and cathedral, and
double‐dotted halves, notated with ties, recur in the next song, “Ich grolle
nicht.”
And what of trisyllabic feet? For the sake of simplicity, let us work with syllabic
combinations that form dactyls (‐ u u); anapests and amphibrachs are set in
rotations of these rhythms. The basic “dactylic” rhythm is of course common,
e.g., <𝅘𝅥 𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮> in 2/4 or 4/4. The rapid declamation of Schumann's “Die Rose, Die
Lilie,” Op. 48 No. 3, uses this in diminution, <𝅘𝅥𝅮 𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅮 𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅯> within each 2/4
measure. Dactyls (‐ u u) may be set in a dotted‐half duration of 3/4 or 6/4 with
the even (p.15) <𝅘𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅘𝅥> rhythms or uneven <𝅘𝅥. 𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥> and <𝅘𝅥𝅘𝅥. 𝅘𝅥𝅮> rhythms. (These
are the most common options.) In a dotted‐half duration of 6/8 or 12/8, the
dactyl may be set with <𝅘𝅥 𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥.>, <𝅘𝅥. 𝅘𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅮>, or <𝅘𝅥.𝆤𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮>. Brahms's “Von ewiger
Liebe,” Op. 43 No. 1, sets a poem that is consistently dactylic, and the song uses
both 6/8 and 3/4 time signatures. Brahms uses all six rhythms listed here, the
three 6/8 and three 3/4 rhythms. There are three more common options when
dactylic feet are set in full measures of 4/4: the basic “dactylic” <𝅗𝅥 𝅘𝅥𝅘𝅥> rhythm
and two dotted rhythms, <𝅘𝅥.𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅗𝅥> and <𝅗𝅥 𝅘𝅥. 𝅘𝅥𝅮>.
A number of these trisyllabic rhythms may be heard as analog equivalents in

different meters. For instance, if we label the durations in relative terms as
“1” (long), “m” (medium) and “s” (short), we get two <1, m, s> patterns: <𝅘𝅥. 𝅘𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅮>
in 6/8 and <𝅗𝅥 𝅘𝅥. 𝅘𝅥𝅮> in 4/4. The 6/8 and 4/4 patterns also both include <m, s, 1>
rhythms: <𝅘𝅥 𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥.> in 6/8 and <𝅘𝅥. 𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅗𝅥> in 4/4. These analog families are significant
for text setting because the rhythms of a given family (e.g., <1, m, s> or <m, s,
1>) may be used to set syllable combinations with the same rhythmic profile.
Thus, Schumann sets the word “Waldeinsamkeit” with the 4/4 <1, m, s / 1>
Page 13 of 36
rhythm <𝅗𝅥 𝅘𝅥. 𝅘𝅥𝅮𝄍𝅗𝅥> (see ex. 5.3 (web) , mm. 18–19); it could likewise be set
with a 6/8 <1, m, s / 1> rhythm <𝅘𝅥. 𝅘𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅮𝄍𝅘𝅥.>. (Brahms's rhythm for this word is
more awkward, from a purely declamatory point of view; he sets it as <𝅘𝅥𝅮𝄍𝅘𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅘𝅥>;
see ex. 6.1 (web) , mm. 22–23.)
The Line and Couplet Setting: Declamatory Schemas

Moving up a level, we may ask how poetic lines and couplets are set in various
musical meters. It has been assumed that the setting of trimeter and tetrameter
lines is governed by convention in the Lied, and thus is not worthy of particular
attention.19 While there is a simple convention for setting trimeter lines, we will
find that tetrameter lines settings are more varied, and, indeed, the placement
of poetic lines within the given musical meters is a significant compositional
resource.
Work by Fehn and Hallmark on pentameter settings provides a significant

precedent for the method that I shall present here.20 Fehn and Hallmark survey
all the pentameter line settings in Schubert's songs, categorize them by
rhythmic type, and correlate the types with syntax and punctuation in the poetic
lines. Interestingly, Fehn and Hallmark attend to the relative duration of poetic
feet in musical settings but not to their placement in the given musical meters.
The technique given here does just that; it shows how lines and couplets are
situated in the notated meter. The notated meter is not identical with all that we
hear, (p.16) metrically (see chap. 2), but in most cases there is at least a
significant overlap between the two.21
The basic procedure is fairly simple: we will use beat numbers to identify the
placement of accented syllables in a given musical meter. Annotations in
example 1.2 show the placement of accented syllables in the beginning of
Hensel's 6/8 setting of “Warum sind denn die Rosen so blass,” Op. 1 No. 3.
Brackets in the annotation delineate the poetic lines. The annotated vocal line
thus shows that the poem alternates lines of iambic tetrameter and iambic
trimeter, and it shows that these lines are set conventionally in two‐bar spans.
(The quatrain itself was given above with a poetic scansion.) There is a rest after
the trimeter lines to fill out the two‐bar spans; the dash in the annotation
indicates a beat that does not carry an accented syllable. Recall that trimeter
lines may be conceived as tetrameter lines with a silent last “beat”; this is
precisely the way they are commonly set. The annotation also works as a
shorthand label in prose discussion; we may say that the couplets of Heine's
poem are set with accented syllables in the pattern [1, 2 / 1, 2][1, 2 / 1 ‐].
Page 14 of 36
The bracketed labels identify

what I call declamatory
schemas. They are schemas in
that they provide a basic outline
of declamatory rhythm and
indicate patterns that recur
both within the song and Example 1.2: Hensel, “Warum sind denn
throughout the genre. die Rosen so blass,” Op. 1 No. 3, mm. 3–
Declamatory schemas thus 10
provide the basis for broad
comparison and detailed study.
There are songs that stick to a single schema throughout, songs that use paired
schemas for each couplet, songs that shift between two or more schemas, and
songs or passages in which the declamation is too variable to be analyzed in
terms of schemas.
(p.17) The next three sections will focus on trimeter, tetrameter, and
pentameter settings in turn. I survey songs from Schubert's Winterreise,
Schumann's Dichterliebe, and Hensel's songs Opp. 1 and 7. With this sample we
get a range of styles from the first half of the nineteenth century, and settings of
poems by the major poets of the genre: Müller, Heine, Goethe, Eichendorff,
Rückert, and Lenau. In the section on pentameter settings, I will show how the
method presented here relates to that of Fehn and Hallmark, and compare
pentameter settings by Schubert and Wolf. Many of the songs introduced here
will be considered in greater detail in subsequent chapters.
Trimeter Settings
The vocal excerpt from “Gute Nacht” given in example 1.3 includes annotations
for the trimeter schema, a [1, 2 / 1 ‐] schema in 2/4. The penultimate syllables of
“ge‐zó‐gen” and “ge‐wó‐gen” are stretched out with dotted rhythms, and the
final unaccented syllable arrives on the second beat. This is a common option for
trimeter lines: unaccented line endings may be placed on the beat, at the metric
level used for other accented syllables.22 This feature is not indicated as such in
the declamatory schema; the second beat gets a dash since it does not carry an
accented syllable.
Page 15 of 36
The trimeter schema in

Schubert's 3/4 setting of “Der
Lindenbaum” (Winterreise No.
5) is shown in example 1.1.
Accented syllables are placed
on beats 1 and 3 of the notated
meter to produce the schema [1 Example 1.3: Schubert, “Gute Nacht,”
‐ 3 / 1 ‐ ‐]. This would seem to Winterreise No. 1, mm. 8–15
be a natural and common
schema, but in fact it is rare;
most trimeter lines are set in duple or quadruple meters. (See the summary of
trimeter settings below.) Example 1.4 shows the declamatory schema in “Das
Wirtshaus,” also from Winterreise (No. 21). Here each line is set in a single 4/4
measure, the schema [1, 2, 3 ‐]. The dotted bar lines and upper‐level annotation
show that this is a “compound meter” (p.18) version of the [1, 2 / 1 ‐] schema. I
use the term “compound meter” here in its historical sense, in which 4/4 may be
considered a “compound” of two 2/4 measures.23 Example 1.5 shows the broad
declamatory schema in the beginning of Schumann's “Im Rhein” from
Dichterliebe (No. 6). Here each line is set in four measures, each couplet in
eight. The upper‐level annotation shows that this is a hypermetric version of the
common [1, 2 / 1 ‐] schema. (Hypermeter refers to metric organization beyond
the level of the notated measure; see chap. 2.) The broad declamation at the
beginning of “Im Rhein” combines with other features to give a sense of
monumentality, and indeed, the declamation speeds up later in the song as the
poet moves into the interior spaces of the cathedral and his own emotions.
Example 1.6 shows an unusual trimeter schema in “Der Leiermann” from
Winterreise (No. 24). The trimeter lines are set in 3/4 with one accented syllable
per beat and no break between the lines of each couplet. The rigid trochaic
meter translates into strict eighth‐note motion, as the Wanderer's alter ego turns
his hurdy‐gurdy.
Example 1.4: Schubert, “Das Wirtshaus,”

Winterreise No. 21, mm. 6–7
Page 16 of 36
(p.19) Example 1.5: Schumann, “Im Rhein,”

Dichterliebe No. 6, mm. 1–8
Example 1.6: Schubert, “Der

Leiermann,” Winterreise No. 24, mm. 9–
16
Table 1.1: Trimeter Schemas in Winterreise, Dichterliebe, and

Hensel's Opp. 1 and 7
Schema Schubert Schumann Hensel Opp. 1

Winterreise Dichterliebe and 7
[1, 2 / 1 ‐] 1, 3, 7, 11, 12 1, 2, 5, 8, 10, 11, Op. 1 No. 1
12, 13*, 15*
[1 ‐ 3 / 1 ‐ ‐] 5
[1 ‐ 3 ‐ / 1 ‐ ‐ ‐] 4 16
[1, 2, 3 ‐] = 18, 21
compound [1,
2 / 1‐ ]
[1 / 1 / 1 / 1] = 6*, 9, 15*
hypermetric
[1, 2 / 1‐ ]
[1, 2, 3] 24
(*) Songs with changing schemas
Table 1.1 summarizes the trimeter schemas in Winterreise, Dichterliebe, and

Hensel's songs Opp. 1 and 7. One can see the overriding prevalence of the basic
[1, 2 / 1 ‐] schema and the occasional occurrence of analogous schemas. The
bottom row shows the unique [1, 2, 3] schema of “Der Leiermann.” The asterisks
indicate songs with changing declamatory schemas. Thus, for instance, “Aus
alten Märchen” from Dichterliebe (No. 15) begins the fairy tale with a standard
[1, 2 / 1 ‐] schema in 6/8 and then shifts to the broader hypermetric version of
this schema as the poet turns to reflect on his own situation and desire, singing
Page 17 of 36
“Ach könnt’ ich dorthin kommen / Und dort mein Herz erfreu'n” (Ah, could I but
go there, and there cheer my heart). The change of schema indexes a new mode
of thought and expression. Table 1.1 does not include songs that alternate
tetrameter and trimeter lines; we shall consider these presently. (“Im
wunderschönen Monat Mai,” Dichterliebe No. 1, is included here. The title line a
tetrameter line, the others are all trimetric.)
There is one issue in trimeter settings that needs further explication: the setting
of unaccented line endings. These may land on the beat, at the level of the
accented syllables, as we observed above (see the discussion of “Gute Nacht”),
or they may be set at the level of the other unaccented syllables. Schubert uses
both options in a repeated setting of the first quatrain of
“Erstarrung” (Winterreise No. 4); see example 1.7. The first time through the
unaccented line endings are set on the second quarters, that is, at the metric
level of the other unaccented syllables. This produces a characteristic
syncopation, shown with brackets, and here Schubert takes this as a rhythmic
motive for the accented endings on “Spur” and “Flur.” The second time through,
Schubert stretches out “ver‐ge‐bens” and “Ar‐me” so that the unaccented
syllables land on beat 3. This smoothing out of declamatory rhythm goes
together with an easing of tension and temporary shift to the relative major. (p.
20)
Tetrameter Settings
At a basic level, trimeter
settings do follow a common
convention; most use a version
of the basic [1, 2 / 1 ‐] schema.
Tetrameter settings, on the
other hand, are more varied.
First of all, the four poetic feet
may be situated in measure
pairs as two‐plus‐two or three‐
plus‐one. Second, schemas are Example 1.7: Schubert, “Erstarrung,”
sometimes paired to set the Winterreise No. 4, mm. 8–23
lines of each couplet, and the
couplet settings thus form
larger rhythmic gestalts. Third, the initial accented syllable may be set on a
downbeat or an upbeat. Schemas that begin with an upbeat are much more
common in tetrameter settings than in trimeter settings. Fourth, tetrameter
lines are sometimes set in three‐bar schemas. If we combine these possibilities
with different musical meters, we get a significant range of choices. As before, I
will begin with a few examples. I will then present a taxonomy of common
tetrameter schemas and summarize their use in the cycles and collections by
Schubert, Hensel, and Schumann.
Page 18 of 36
Schubert's
“Wasserflut” (Winterreise No. 6)
illustrates a combination of two
schemas for the paired lines of
Example 1.8: Schubert, “Wasserflut,”
each couplet (see ex. 1.8). The
Winterreise No. 6, mm. 5–8
first schema is a two‐plus‐two
pattern, [1, 2 ‐ / 1, 2 ‐], and the
second schema is a three‐plus‐one pattern, [1, 2, 3 / 1 ‐ ‐]. The couplet setting
thus becomes a larger rhythmic (p.21) gestalt, with motion through to the
downbeat of the fourth measure. Interestingly, while the first and third accented
syllables of “Manche Trän’ aus meinen Augen” are set on metric downbeats, the
second and fourth receive registral and agogic (longer duration) accents. It is
these latter accents that correspond most closely with those of a poetic reading:
“Mànche Trä́n’ aus mèinen Áugen.”
Schubert seems to have liked this schema pairing; it also appears in “Irrlicht”
and “Letzte Hoffnung,” the ninth and sixteenth songs in Winterreise. We may
then contrast these settings with “Die Nebensonnen,” (Winterreise No. 23),
shown in example 1.9. In “Die Nebensonnen” we get the [1, 2 ‐ / 1, 2 ‐] schema
for both lines of the couplet initially (ex. 1.9a); Schubert then “modulates” to the
[1, 2, 3 / 1 ‐ ‐] schema, again for both lines of the couplet (ex. 1.9b). The change
takes place with a shift to A minor and an awakening of desire and pain: “Ach,
meine Sonnen seid ihr nicht, / schaut andern doch in's Angesicht!” (Ah, you are
not my suns, you look into others’ faces!).
Upbeat beginnings enable the

placement of the final accented
syllables of tetrameter lines on
downbeats. This in fact may be
why upbeat beginnings are
relatively common in tetrameter
Example 1.9: Schubert, “Die
settings. Fanny Hensel's
Nebensonnen,” Winterreise No. 23; mm.
“Morgenständchen,” Op. 1 No.
5–8 (a) and 16–19 (b)
5, is an extreme case; it is set in
4/4 with the schema [2, 3, 4 / 1]
(see ex. 1.10). Forward‐directed
declamation combines with pulsating chords (not shown here) to create a sense
of excitement, appropriate for the morning joy of Eichendorff's poem. The two
couplets are separated by a measure of rest, and an alternative schema is
interspersed at the first repetition of “Waldeslaut und Vogelschall,” as shown in
the example.
Examples 1.11 and 1.12 show two songs, both from Winterreise, with tetrameter
lines set in three‐bar spans. The three‐bar schema [1 ‐ / 1, 2 / 1 ‐] in “Die Post”
can be understood as a despondent version of a normative two‐bar schema [1,
Page 19 of 36
2 / 1, 2]. The Wanderer laments in E% minor, with the hesitant three‐bar

schema, that he has not received a letter from his love (ex. 1.11a). He then turns
to E% major and a more fluid two‐bar schema as he repeats the lines (ex. 1.11b).
In contrast with this, the three‐bar schema [1 ‐ / 1, 2 / 1 ‐] emerges in
“Täuschung” as a contraction of a four‐bar setting (exs. 1.12a and b). The
change of declamatory schema coincides with a shift to A minor and a moment
of intensified feeling and pain.
(p.22)
Brahms's “An den Mond,” Op.

71 No. 2, uses three‐bar
schemas throughout. Brahms in
fact uses two different three‐bar
schemas in “An den Mond”:
example 1.13a shows a couplet
with the schema [1 ‐ / 1, 2 / 1 ‐],
as in Schubert's “Die Post” and
“Täuschung,” and example
1.13b shows a syncopated
schema [1, 2 / ‐ 2 / 1 ‐] (which
Example 1.10: Hensel,
may also be heard as a reverse
“Morgenständchen,” Op. 1 No. 5, mm. 1–
hemiola; see chap. 2). Shifts
10
between these schemas mark
out sections of the song, and
the consistent use of three‐bar
spans (p.23)
Example 1.11: Schubert, “Die Post,”

Winterreise No. 13; mm. 28–35 (a) and
38–46 (b)
Page 20 of 36
is indicative of Brahms's interest

in “mixed metric complexes,”
meters that combine duple and
triple relations at multiple
levels.24
Table 1.2 provides a taxonomy
of common tetrameter schemas,
categorized by musical meter
and schema type. The schema Example 1.12: Schubert, “Täuschung,”
types include the two‐plus‐two, Winterreise No. 19; mm. 6–13 (a) and 22–
three‐plus‐one, upbeat‐oriented, 27 (b)
and three‐bar schemas
illustrated in the previous
examples. The [2, 3, 4 / 1]
schema of Hensel's
“Morgenständchen” is unusual;
table 1.2 gives the more
common upbeat‐oriented
schemas. There is also a
“trimeter” schema: the (p.24)
Example 1.13: Brahms, “An den Mond,”

Op. 71 No. 2; mm. 4–9 (a) and 25–30 (b)
Table 1.2: Taxonomy of Common Tetrameter Schemas
Schema Type Duple Meters Triple Meters Quadruple Meters
Two plus two [1, 2 / 1, 2] [1, 2 ‐ / 1, 2 ‐] [1 ‐ 3 ‐ / 1 ‐ 3 ‐]
[1 ‐ 3 / 1, 2 ‐]
Three plus one [1, 2 a / 1 ‐] [1, 2, 3 / 1 ‐ ‐] [1 ‐ 3, 4 / 1 ‐ ‐ ‐]
Upbeat oriented [2 / 1, 2 / 1] [3 / 1 ‐ 3 / 1 ‐] [3 ‐ / 1 ‐ 3 ‐ / 1 ‐]
[3 / 1, 2 ‐ / 1 ‐]
“Trimeter” [a / 1, 2 / 1 ‐] [4 / 1 ‐ 3 ‐ / 1 ‐ ‐]
Three‐bar [1 ‐ / 1, 2 / 1 ‐]
[1, 2 / ‐ 2 / 1 ‐]
initial poetic foot is set as a rapid upbeat, and the rest of the line is set as in the
common [1, 2 / 1 ‐] schema for trimeter lines. An example of this schema can be found
in Hensel's “Wanderlied,” Op. 1 No. 2 (see ex. 3.3 (web) The “a” labels in the
schemas reference accented syllables on the second half of a beat, here the “and of
Page 21 of 36
two.” As the table shows, some of the most interesting play occurs with the setting of
tetrameter schemas in triple meters. Thus, for instance, there are two common options
Table 1.3: Tetrameter Schemas in Winterreise
Song Time Signature Declamatory Schemas
2. Die Wetterfahne 6/8 [1, 2 / 1, 2]
[1, 2 a / 1][2 / 1, 2 / 1]
6. Wasserflut 3/4 [1, 2 ‐ / 1, 2 ‐ ][1, 2, 3 / 1 ‐ ‐]
8. Rückblick 3/4 [1, 2, 3 / 1][2, 3 / 1, 2 ‐]*
[1, 2, 3 / 1 ‐ ‐]
9. Irrlicht 3/8 [1, 2 ‐ / 1, 2 ‐ ][1, 2, 3 / 1 ‐ ‐]
[1, 2, 3 / 1 ‐ ‐]
10. Rast 2/4 [1, 2 / 1, 2][1, 2 / 1 ‐]
13. Die Post 6/8 [1, 2, 1, 2]
[1 ‐ / 1, 2 / 1 ‐]
14. Der greise Kopf 3/4 [1, 2 ‐ / 1, 2 ‐][1 ‐ 3 / 1 ‐ ‐]
[1 ‐ 3 / 1, 2 ‐ ][1 ‐ 3 / 1 ‐ ‐]
[1, 2, 3 / 1 ‐ ‐]
15. Die Krähe 2/4 [1, 2 / 1, 2 ][1, 2 / 1 ‐ ]
16. Letzte Hoffnung 3/4 [1, 2 ‐ / 1, 2 ‐ ][1, 2, 3 / 1 ‐ ‐]
17. Im Dorfe 12/8 A section: [3 ‐ / 1 ‐ 3 ‐ / 1 ‐]
B section: [1 ‐ (3) ‐ / 1, 2, 3 ‐]*
[1 ‐ 3 ‐ / (1 ‐ 3 ‐ ) / 1 ‐ 3 ‐]
19. Täuschung 6/8 [1 ‐ / 1, 2 / 1 ‐ / ‐ ‐]
[1 ‐ / 1, 2 / 1 ‐]
[1, 2 / 1 ‐ / 1 ‐ ]*
20. Der Wegweiser 2/4 [a / 1, 2 / 1 ‐ ]
22. Mut 2/4 [1, 2 / ‐ 2 / 1 ‐][1, 2 / 1 ‐]
[1, 2 / 1, 2][1, 2 / 1 ‐]
23. Die Nebensonnen 3/4 [1, 2 ‐ / 1, 2 ‐]
[1, 2, 3 / 1 ‐ ‐]
(*) These are the unusual schemas, not included in table 1.2
Page 22 of 36
(p.25)
Table 1.4: Tetrameter Schemas in Hensel's Opp. 1 and 7
Song Time Declamatory Schemas

Signature
Wanderlied, Op. 1 No. 2 4/8 [4 / 1 ‐ 3 / 1 ‐ ‐]
Warum sind denn die Rosen so 6/8 [1, 2 / 1, 2][1, 2 / 1 ‐]

blass, Op. 1 No. 3
Maienlied, Op. 1 No. 4 3/4 [3 / 1 ‐ 3 / 1 ‐]
Morgenständchen, Op. 1 No. 5 4/4 [2, 3, 4 / 1]*
[4 / 1 ‐ 3 ‐ / 1]
Gondellied, Op. 1 No. 6 6/8 [1, 2 / 1, 2][1, 2 / 1 ‐]
Nachtwanderer, Op. 7 No. 1 9/8 [1, 2, 3 / 1 ‐ ‐] and other

variable settings
Erwin, Op. 7 No. 2 4/4 [3 ‐ / 1 ‐ 3 ‐ / 1 ‐]
Frühling, Op. 7 No. 3 2/4 [a / 1 ‐ a / 1 ‐]*
[2 / 1, 2 / 1]
Bitte, Op. 7 No. 5 6/8 [2 / 1, 2 / 1]

(*) These are the unusual schemas, not included in table 1.2
for two‐plus‐two schemas in triple meters, the repetitive [1, 2 ‐ / 1, 2 ‐] and the
internally differentiated [1 ‐ 3 / 1, 2 ‐]. The first upbeat‐oriented schema listed in the
triple meter column, [3 / 1 ‐ 3 / 1], is relatively common; the second one, [3 / 1, 2 ‐ / 1],
tends to have a “cadential” function at the end of strophes. We shall see examples of
this “cadential” schema in Hensel's “Maienlied,” Op. 1 No. 4, and Schumann's “Wenn
ich in deine Augen seh’ ” from Dichterliebe (No. 4) (see chaps. 3 and 5).
Tables 1.3 and 1.4 summarize the tetrameter schemas in Winterreise and
Hensel's Opp. 1 and 7 songs. These tables account for the main schemas in each
song, not for every tetrameter line setting. Schemas in directly adjacent sets of
brackets show couplet settings, as in Schubert's “Wasserflut” (Winterreise No.
6). The table includes settings of poems that alternate tetrameter and trimeter
lines; see Winterreise Nos. 10, 14, 15, and 22, and Hensel's Op. 1 Nos. 3 and 6.
Several unusual schemas, not included in the taxonomy of Table 1.2, are marked
with asterisks. Parentheses around beat numbers in the schemas for Schubert's
“Im Dorfe” indicate text repetition within a line; this is an additional resource for
analysis. (Two of the lines in question, with Schubert's text repetition in italics,
are, “Je nun, je nun, sie haben ihr Teil genossen / und hoffen, und hoffen, was sie
noch übrig liessen,” and these are set with the unusual schema [1 ‐ (3) ‐ / 1, 2, 3
‐].) There are only three songs in Dichterliebe with tetrameter lines (not counting
“Im wunderschönen Monat Mai”): Nos. 3, 4, and 14. Of these, Nos. 3 and 14 are
Page 23 of 36
set conventionally. The fourth song, “Wenn ich in deine Augen seh,’ ” uses a fluid
succession of schemas, which we will explore in chapter 5.
Pentameter Settings
As I noted above, Fehn and Hallmark survey every pentameter line set by
Schubert. They find that there are two common procedures for pentameter
settings. In the first procedure, labeled X, two poetic feet are compressed
relative to the others so (p.26) that the lines fit in four metric units. In the
second, labeled Y, the line is set with even declamation and a rest at the end, or
even declamation and an expansion of one poetic foot (usually the last foot). The
line then takes up six metric units.
Fehn and Hallmark's analysis avoids reference to particular musical meters. This
enables very broad comparisons, but it leaves out an important element in the
settings. We may want to know, for instance, whether a six‐unit span is
organized as 2 × 3 or 3 × 2, say two bars of 3/4 or three bars of 2/4. Likewise,
we may attend to where the notated downbeats fall in relation to the five poetic
feet. Both of these things are immediately evident in the declamatory schema
notation.
Example 1.14 provides one of Fehn and Hallmark's examples, an excerpt from
Schubert's “An den Schlaf,” D. 447, with added annotations for the declamatory
schema.25 Fehn and Hallmark reference this as an X type setting, in the
form //../; slashes represent relatively longer durations and dots represent
relatively shorter durations. (This particular pattern, with compression of the
third and fourth poetic feet, is the most common of the X type settings; it is
labeled X1.) Here we see that the line is set in a quadruple meter, with a [1 ‐ 3 ‐ /
1, 2, 3 ‐] schema.
The next three examples show

three settings that correspond
with Fehn and Hallmark's Y
type, that is, they set the five
poetic feet evenly, with a rest Example 1.14: Schubert, “An den Schlaf,”
before or after the line. (The D. 447, mm. 1–2
first two examples are drawn
from Fehn and Hallmark's work;
I add the declamatory schema analysis.26) In Schubert's “Ungeduld,” from Die
schöne Müllerin (ex. 1.15), the lines are set in 3/4 with the declamatory schema
[1, 2, 3 / 1, 2 ‐]. The setting therefore places the first and fourth accented
syllables on notated downbeats. Interestingly, the contour of the vocal line hints
at a hemiola [1, 2, 3, / 1, 2 ‐]. All of this contributes to the song's affect of
impatience. “Pause,” from Die schöne Müllerin, also sets pentameter lines in
even declamation (see ex. 1.16), but here there are two differences: the lines are
set in three‐bar spans of what is essentially a duple meter, and each three‐bar
Page 24 of 36
phrase begins with a rest in the voice. (The meter is notated as 4/4, but it can be
heard in cut time.) The vocal silence references the Miller lad's figurative
silence; he has hung his lute on the wall and can no longer sing, for his heart is
too full.
The third example is from Wolf's song, “Dass doch gemalt all’ deine Reize
wären” from the Italian Songbook (see ex. 1.17). This setting includes elements
from both the prior Schubert examples. It is in a triple meter, like “Ungeduld,”
and each line begins on the second beat, as in “Pause.” Once again, the
declamatory (p.27)
schema shows this succinctly.

There is a further syncopation in
the vocal line, which is common in
Wolf. Lines from the declamatory
schema to the vocal pitches show
that the syncopations can be
heard as delays in relation to a
metrically aligned setting—as in
mm. 3–4. As it turns out, the
poems set in Wolf's Italian
Songbook are all in iambic Example 1.15: Schubert, “Ungeduld,” Die
pentameter; we will return to a schöne Müllerin No. 7, mm. 8–12
study of their settings and further
comparisons with Schubert in
chapter 7.
(p.28) Beyond Declamatory
Schemas
Relations between poetic and
musical rhythm involve much
more than the basic rhythms
and declamatory schemas, as is Example 1.16: Schubert, “Pause,” Die
evident from the preceding schöne Müllerin No. 12, mm. 9–14
remarks on “Ungeduld” and
other songs. Pitch contour,
prolongational patterns, and
structural lines also contribute
to the rhythmic shaping of a
line. The setting of a given
poetic line may be essentially
static, moving within a small
range away from and back to a Example 1.17: Wolf, “Dass doch gemalt
given pitch, it may articulate all’ deine Reize wären,” Italian Songbook
simple stepwise motion with No. 9, mm. 1–4
added embellishment, or it may
move over a broader range. A
Page 25 of 36
melody may be compound, with implicit counterpoint. These linear features

occur in time (to state the obvious) and thus involve durational patterning.27 Of
particular interest for relations between poetic and musical rhythm, however, is
the use of repetition and parallelisms at levels from the brief motive to the
phrase, period, and strophe. Such repetitions and parallelisms may correlate
with aspects of poetic structure, or they may form independent rhythms, layered
with those of the poem. We should recall as well that the poetic rhythm itself
may include conflicting layers. Musical phrase rhythms then may align with the
poetic structure (e.g., line, couplet, or quatrain), poetic syntax, or a combination
of the two.
We shall explore such interactions in the analyses of chapters 3–7. For the
present, let us consider a single example, one in which the poetic and musical
rhythms are, for the most part, maximally aligned. Here are the first two
quatrains of Müller's “Der Lindenbaum,” set by Schubert in Winterreise (the first
quatrain was also given above; here we add the second):
1. Am Brunnen vor dem Tore, By the well in front of the gate,
Da steht ein Lindenbaum: There stands a linden tree:
Ich träumt’ in seinem Schatten I dreamed in its shade
So manchen süssen Traum. So many sweet dreams.
5. Ich schnitt in seine Rinde I carved in its bark
So manches liebe Wort; Many a lovely word;
Es zog in Freud’ und Leide In happiness and sorrow
Zu ihm mich immer fort. It drew me always to it.
On the one hand, the poetic meter and form are regular, with lines in iambic
trimeter, alternating unaccented and accented endings, and abab rhyme
schemes. On the other hand, there is a kind of syncopation, a link from the first
quatrain to the second. We get a parallelism in lines 3–4 and 5–6: (p.29)
Ich träumt’ in seinem Schatten, / So manchen süssen Traum.

Ich schnitt in seine Rinde / So manches liebe Wort.
The first couplet, furthermore, is in its own discursive space; it describes the
linden tree in the present tense, now standing. This stimulates the Wanderer's
memory, and lines 3–8 recall an idyllic time in the past.
Schubert sets the first quatrain with a repeating phrase, the second with a
parallel period (see ex. 1.18; the phrases are marked as aabb1). Thus, the
musical phrase structures align with the quatrains, not with the parallelism of
Page 26 of 36
lines 3–4 and 5–6, and neither is the first couplet given its own musical setting to
match the independent discursive space. This is all natural enough, and we
easily follow the flow of thought through the poetic and musical phrase
structures. It is, nonetheless, a layering of independent rhythms, a “polyrhythm”
of poetic and musical voices, if you will. The notion of polyrhythm in the Lied
was introduced early on, in 1817, by the composer, critic, and publisher Hans
Georg Nägeli. We turn now to Nägeli's ideas and the early aesthetics of the Lied.
Nägeli's “Polyrhythm” and the

Romantic Lied
“Die Liederkunst” (1817)
In an article titled “Die
Liederkunst” (The Art of the
Lied), published in the
Allgemeine Musikalische
Zeitung in 1817, Nägeli forecast
a “new epoch in the art of song”
and a “higher style of Lied.”28
He indicated, furthermore, that
Example 1.18: Schubert, “Der
the new epoch (p.30) would
Lindenbaum,” Winterreise No. 5, mm. 9–
feature “an as of yet
24
unrecognized polyrhythm, so
that the rhythm of speech,
singing and playing will be subsumed into a higher artistic whole.”29 Nägeli's
“polyrhythm” refers broadly to the interaction of rhythmic layers, not only to the
kind of two‐against‐three rhythms that we associate today with polyrhythm.
Speech, singing, and playing each have their own rhythms, and they may each
come to the fore in turn.
Nägeli's article is remarkable for its early recognition of the potential for
rhythmic independence in the Lied, its explicit embrace of this independence,
and for the idea that it could contribute to a “higher artistic whole.”30 In all
respects, this is a break from the Lied aesthetics of the eighteenth century,
which prescribed that the Lied was to be simple, easily singable with or without
piano accompaniment. It was to express emotion directly, without the
intervention of art. It was to be volkstümlich (folklike)—if not literally a folksong
from common use then a composition that would feel like a folksong and perhaps
become one. It should have the appearance of familiarity (Schein des
Bekannten), so that it could be easily learned.31 To be sure, not all eighteenth‐
century German songs matched these ideals; ballads in particular provided
opportunities for experimentation, and Viennese Lieder, including those by
Mozart and Haydn, tended to have more active piano parts.32 The aesthetics of
simplicity, singability, and Volkstümlichkeit were dominant, however. Nägeli's
“Die Liederkunst” makes entirely different claims for the genre, namely that it
would use all the resources of musical art combined with those of poetry. (The
Page 27 of 36
word Kunst (art) in Nägeli's title already points to the new aesthetic.) This was in
1817, three years after Schubert wrote “Gretchen am Spinnrade,” the
remarkable song that is often said to mark the birth of the Romantic Lied. Nägeli
himself does not cite any of Schubert's songs, nor would he have known them in
(p.31) 1817. He seems to have been responding, however, to the same
developments that set the stage for Schubert's achievement. As Schwab
observes, “That which Schubert was able to achieve in artistic practice, Nägeli
presented—without having known about Schubert—as a program in words.”33
The correspondence between Goethe and Zelter is often cited as an example of

the traditional aesthetic. The ideal for both was an identity of poem and song.
Goethe wrote to Zelter in 1820, “I feel that your compositions are, so to speak,
identical with my songs [i.e., poems]; the music, like gas blown into a balloon,
merely carries them into the heavens. With other composers, I must first observe
how they have conceived my song and what they have made of it.”34 Thus, at
issue is not only the simplicity of the setting, but also the degree to which music
may add to or interpret the poem at hand. Nägeli assumes that the music may
indeed add something, that the poem would be “idealized” in a new artistic
whole.35
Nägeli's “Polyrhythm” and Theories of Song

Nägeli's notion that song may actively interpret the poem at hand becomes more
common in the nineteenth century, and it forms the basis for modern analyses
and interpretations. In a eulogy for Schubert from 1829, Josef von Spaun wrote,
“Whatever filled the poet's breast[,] Schubert faithfully represented and
transfigured in each of his songs, as none has done before him. Every one of his
song compositions is in reality a poem on the poem he set to music.”36 David
Lewin develops this idea dramaturgically in an article first published in 1982: “I
find it suggestive to conceive the relations of composer, text, and song as
analogous to the relations of actor, script, and dramatic reading.”37 For Lewin,
furthermore, rhythmic relations, like Nägeli's polyrhythm, are central to the Lied
as dramatic reading: “In this regard, one thinks of the rhythmic complexity of
Schubert's composition, with its contrasts of expansion and contraction, of
regularity and irregularity, of ostinato clock time, musical phrase time, and text‐
line time.”38 (Schubert's “Die Post” from Winterreise is the song immediately at
hand, but Lewin develops these ideas in his analyses of “Auf dem Flusse” from
Winterreise and other songs.)
Aspects of Nägeli's theory also resonate in recent writings about persona and
voice in the Lied, for the elements in Nägeli's polyrhythm (speech, singing, and
playing) are heard to constitute the semi‐independent “voices” of a song's
personae. Edward T. Cone introduced the idea of the musical persona in his
classic text The Composer's Voice. The idea is that we may hear music, even
without text, as a form (p.32) of utterance, conveying an experience. The
experience is that of the musical persona, like the character in a play, the
Page 28 of 36
narrator in a novel, or the lyric speaker of a poem. As Cone puts it, “One might
say that the expressive power of every art depends on the communication of a
certain kind of experience, and that each art in its own way projects the illusion
of the existence of a personal subject through whose consciousness that
experience is made known to the rest of us.”39 This “personal subject” or
“persona” is not the same as the composer, just as the narrator in a novel is not
the novelist.
In The Composer's Voice, Cone theorized not one but three personae in
accompanied song: a vocal persona (Nägeli's “singing”), an instrumental
persona (Nägeli's “playing”), and a complete musical persona. In a subsequent
article, Cone suggests that performers would benefit from thinking of the vocal
and instrumental personas as one: “a singing poet, or, to give an old phrase
something of its original meaning, a lyric poet, in the sense of one who composes
words and music together.”40 (The idea of a complete musical persona then
becomes superfluous.) Following from Cone, Berthold Hoeckner offers what is
perhaps the most satisfying interpretive framework:
My proposal . . . is to keep the basic conception of Cone's earlier model,

while accommodating his later modification: to adopt the notion of a single
creative mind, while still hearing independent voices. What is more, where
Cone heard a complete musical persona constituted by instrumental and
vocal personae, I hear a triple voice, which includes a poetic persona that
remains on a par with the musical ones.41
The triple voice of Hoeckner's model combines precisely those elements that
constitute Nägeli's polyrhythm: the instrumental persona corresponds with
Nägeli's playing, the vocal persona with Nägeli's singing, and the poetic persona
with Nägeli's speaking. The “single creative mind” in Hoeckner's model
produces Nägeli's “higher artistic whole.” Thus, the historical source (Nägeli)
confirms modern theory (Hoeckner), but it also indicates that we may benefit
from a renewed attention to the rhythmic interaction of poetic, vocal, and
instrumental layers.42
For Nägeli, the polyrhythm of the newly emerging Lied is akin to instrumental
polyphony. He dwells on this analogy and uses it to situate the Lied as an art
form of high status (i.e., not a simple volkstümlich genre):
In reality such a small Lied can yet be a combinatorial artwork at a fairly

high level; indeed, I will say much more, and say it above all for the
scholars of musical art to hear: just as certainly as the polyrhythm
established above is overall as important (p.33) as polyphony, so certainly
also is the vocal art even in the limits and forms of the (single‐voiced) Lied
a combinatorial art, like the art of double counterpoint….In double
counterpoint one musical line has to run parallel with another line, has to
Page 29 of 36
be harmonized according to the requirements of (consonant) intervals; just

so, and not any different in its essentials, in vocal composition a melodic
line has to run parallel with a word‐line [eine Tonreihe mit einer Wortreihe]
and thereby be brought into artistic accord.43
Thus, in Nägeli's analogy we find a historical link between the Romantic Lied—
as a genre with artistic aspirations—and the nineteenth‐century reception of
baroque polyphony. As it turns out, Nägeli himself played a critical role in the
Bach revival of the early nineteenth century. Nägeli purchased the autograph
score of Bach's B minor Mass in 1805 and announced that he would issue a
printed edition in 1818. (There were not enough subscribers, and it was only in
1833 that he was able to produce an edition of two of the movements.)44 We
might, then, say that the polyrhythm‐polyphony analogy is of purely historical
interest, and not one to be pressed into further use. Nägeli himself did not
return to it in later writings.45 It seems, though, that there is something there, a
phenomenological truth. Just as we may attend to individual voices in a
polyphonic texture, hearing one then another emerge and recede, we may
attend to the voice, the accompaniment, and the words, emerging and receding
in independent rhythmic layers. This is the aesthetic pleasure of the
“polyrhythmic” Lied.
In Nägeli's analogy we find the idea that we may study rhythmic layering with
the same kind of attention given to counterpoint. This indeed is what music
theorists have done in recent years, taking the contrapuntally inspired ideas of
Heinrich Schenker as a model for theories of metric layering.46 In chapter 2, I
will introduce recent theories of musical meter with examples from the Lied. I
will also introduce methods of metric analysis and issues of perception. How do
we hear the layered motion of musical meters? How can we model our metric
understanding, and refine it? How is metric experience related to notation, both
within and beyond the conventions of time signatures, tempi, and bar lines?
Answers to these questions will prepare us for the analytical and interpretive
study of songs from Hensel, Schubert, and Schumann to Brahms and Wolf. (p.
34)
Notes:
(1.) See Martin Boykan, “Reflections on Words and Music,” Musical Quarterly 84,
no. 1 (2000): 123–36; Jack M. Stein, Poem and Music in the German Lied from
Gluck to Hugo Wolf (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1971), 9–13; and
Susan Youens, “Poetic Rhythm and Musical Metre in Schubert's Winterreise,”
Music and Letters 65, no. 1 (1984): 29–30.
(2.) Michael Cherlin illustrates this with a detailed and subtle analysis of a poem
by Dickinson and its setting by Copland; see Cherlin, “Thoughts on Poetry and
Music, on Rhythms in Emily Dickinson's ‘The World Feels Dusty’ and Aaron
Copland's Setting of It,” Intégral 5 (1991): 55–75. See also Edward T. Cone,
Page 30 of 36
“Words into Music: The Composer's Approach to the Text,” in Music: A View
from Delft, ed. Robert P. Morgan (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1989
[1956]), 118–19.
(3.) See Harry Seelig, “The Literary Context: Goethe as Source and Catalyst,” in
German Lieder in the Nineteenth Century, ed. Rufus Hallmark (New York:
Schirmer Books, 1996), 4–5. We will explore one such poem, the “Schäfers
Klagelied,” in chap. 4.
(4.) Goethe's “An Lina” is quoted in Seelig, “The Literary Context,” 3.
(5.) See Wolfgang Kayser, Kleine deutsche Versschule, 26th ed. (Tübingen: A.
Francke, 1999), 21–35. The following exposition draws especially on Kayser's
book, which has a practical use of poetic terminology, historical perspectives,
and a sensitivity to qualities of motion and expression. Stein and Spillman
provide an introduction to form and meter in the poetry of the Lied with
particular attention to performers’ concerns; see Deborah J. Stein and Robert
Spillman, Poetry into Song: Performance and Analysis of Lieder (New York:
Oxford University Press, 1996), 33–45. Robert Hatten presents methods and
materials for teaching poetic analysis in the context of an undergraduate music
seminar; see Hatten, “Teaching ‘Music and the Poetic Text,’ ” Indiana Theory
Review 26 (2005): 37–71. Accounts of rhythm, meter, and form in English verse
are also relevant to students of the Lied; see, for instance, John Hollander,
Rhyme's Reason: A Guide to English Verse, 3rd ed. (New Haven, CT: Yale
University Press, 2001); and Mary Kinzie, A Poet's Guide to Poetry (Chicago:
University of Chicago Press, 1999).
(6.) See Kayser, Kleine deutsche Versschule, 23.
(7.) Kayser, Kleine deutsche Versschule, 27.
(8.) Kayser, Kleine deutsche Versschule, 33.
(9.) The translation is adapted from William Mann's translation in the liner notes
for the Mörike‐Lieder recording by Dietrich Fischer‐Dieskau and Gerald Moore,
EMI CMS 763563 2.
(10.) These are the “feminine” and “masculine” endings of traditional poetic
theory.
(11.) The translation is adapted from Philip L. Miller, The Ring of Words: An
Anthology of Song Texts (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1966), 105.
(12.) Edward Cone explores and defends the text repetition in Schumann's
setting; see Cone, “Words into Music,” 120–22. Finson remarks on the
pentameter lines and Schumann's “quadratic” setting; see Jon Finson, Robert
Page 31 of 36
Schumann: The Book of Songs (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press,

2007), 65.
(13.) Hans Gál, Schubert and the Essence of Melody (London: Gollancz, 1974),
94; Youens, “Poetic Rhythm and Musical Metre in Schubert's Winterreise,” 33–
34.
(14.) Kayser, Kleine deutsche Versschule, 103–11; and Carl Dahlhaus,

“Deklamationsprobleme in Hugo Wolfs Italienischem Liederbuch,” in
Liedstudien; Wolfgang Osthoff zum 60. Geburtstag, ed. Martin Just and Reinhard
Wiesend (Tutzing: Hans Schneider, 1989), 441–52.
(15.) For discussions of Wolf's setting of “Um Mitternacht,” see Han‐Herwig

Geyer, Hugo Wolfs Mörike‐Vertonungen: Vermannigfaltigung in lyrischer
Konzentration (Kassel: Bärenreiter, 1991), 100–15; Yonatan Malin, “Metric
Analysis and the Metaphor of Energy: A Way into Selected Songs by Wolf and
Schoenberg,” Music Theory Spectrum 30, no. 1 (2008): 69–73; and Stein, Poem
and Music in the German Lied, 161–64.
(16.) See Heather Platt, “Jenner versus Wolf: The Critical Reception of Brahms's
Songs,” Journal of Musicology 13, no. 3 (1995): 377–403. See also Dahlhaus,
“Deklamationsprobleme in Hugo Wolfs Italienischem Liederbuch”; and Edward F.
Kravitt, The Lied: Mirror of Late Romanticism (New Haven, CT: Yale University
Press, 1996).
(17.) A forthcoming essay by Rufus Hallmark provides a notable exception.

Hallmark traces rhythmic and structural connections between poetry and music
in Schubert's songs starting with the rate of declamation, then moving on to line
and couplet settings, stanza settings, and the settings of entire poems.
Hallmark's approach is thus similar to the one presented here. See Hallmark,
“On Schubert Reading Poetry: A Primer in the Rhythm of Poetry and Music,” in
Of Poetry and Song: Approaches to the Nineteenth‐Century Lied, ed. Jürgen
Thym (Rochester, NY: University of Rochester Press, forthcoming, 2010), 3–36.
See also the essays by Anne Clark Fehn and Jürgen Thym in Part 2 of the same
volume: Jürgen Thym, ed., Of Poetry and Song: Approaches to the Nineteenth‐
Century Lied (Rochester: University of Rochester Press, forthcoming, 2010).
Hallmark and Thym both trace their approaches back to the work of Thrasybulos
Georgiades; see Schubert: Musik und Lyrik (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck and
Ruprecht, 1967) and the English translation of an excerpt from the book in
“Lyric as Musical Structure: Schubert's Wandrers Nachtlied (“Über allen
Gipfeln,” D. 768),” in Walter Frisch, ed., Schubert: Critical and Analytical Studies
(Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1986), 84–103. Two articles on
pentameter settings, written jointly by Ann Clark Fehn and Rufus Hallmark, are
discussed below.
Page 32 of 36
(18.) Harald Krebs, “Fancy Footwork: Distortions of Poetic Rhythm in Robert

Schumann's Late Songs,” keynote address at the Fifteenth Biennial Symposium
of Research in Music Theory (Indiana University, 2008). See also Krebs, “The
Expressive Role of Rhythm and Meter in Schumann's Late Lieder,” Gamut 2, no.
1 (2009): 267–98.
(19.) Ann Clark Fehn and Rufus Hallmark, “Text and Music in Schubert's
Pentameter Lieder: A Consideration of Declamation,” Studies in the History of
Music: Music and Language 1 (1983): 205.
(20.) Fehn and Hallmark, “Text and Music in Schubert's Pentameter Lieder.” See
also their earlier article, “Text Declamation in Schubert's Settings of Pentameter
Poetry,” Zeitschrift für Literaturwissenschaft und Linguistik 9, no. 34 (1979): 80–
111. The two articles are combined in a chapter from Of Poetry and Song:
Approaches to the Nineteenth‐Century Lied, ed. Jürgen Thym (Rochester, NY:
University of Rochester Press, forthcoming, 2010), 155–219.
(21.) There is also a precedent for my approach in remarks by Schoenberg on

Brahms's songs; see Arnold Schoenberg, “Brahms the Progressive,” in Style and
Idea, ed. Leonard Stein, trans. Leo Black (New York: St. Martin's Press, 1975),
398–441. Schoenberg's remarks, however, are confusing, and they show the
need for a more precise method. Deborah Rohr comments on Schoenberg's
essay and presents a more lucid discussion of the relation between poetic line
length and musical phrase length in Brahms's songs. She does not, however,
trace the precise placement of poetic lines in musical meters as I do here. See
Deborah Adams Rohr, “Brahms's Metrical Dramas: Rhythm, Text Expression, and
Form in the Solo Lieder” (PhD diss., University of Rochester, Rochester, NY,
1997), 26–30, 32–42.
(22.) Jon Finson, following Otto Paul and Ingeborg Glier, describes iambic
trimeter poems that are set this way as a form of the German Langzeilenvers.
See Jon Finson, Robert Schumann: The Book of Songs, 26; and Otto Paul and
Ingeborg Glier, Deutsche Metrik, 5th ed. (Munich: Max Hueber, 1970). §107.
There are settings of individual poems, however, that vary in their treatment of
unaccented line endings, sometimes placing them at the level of other accented
syllables and sometimes at a subsidiary level. Schubert's “Erstarrung,”
presented below, is an example.
(23.) See William E. Caplin, “Theories of Musical Rhythm in the Eighteenth and
Nineteenth Centuries,” in The Cambridge History of Western Music Theory, ed.
Thomas Christensen (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002), 657–94;
and Claudia Maurer Zenck, Vom Takt: Untersuchungen zur Theorie und
kompositorischen Praxis im ausgehenden 18. Und beginnenden 19. Jahrhundert
(Vienna: Böhlau, 2001).
Page 33 of 36
(24.) The term “mixed metric complex” is from Richard Cohn, “The
Dramatization of Hypermetric Conflicts in the Scherzo of Beethoven's Ninth
Symphony,” 19th‐Century Music 15, no. 3 (1992): 194. Deborah Rohr presents a
valuable analysis of poetic structure, phrase rhythm, and 3:2 ratios at multiple
levels in Brahms's “An den Mond”; see Rohr, “Brahms's Metrical Dramas,” 154–
65.
(25.) Fehn and Hallmark, “Text and Music in Schubert's Pentameter Lieder,”
207.
(26.) Fehn and Hallmark, “Text and Music in Schubert's Pentameter Lieder,”
224.
(27.) Theorists engaged in linear or Schenkerian analysis have increasingly paid

attention to aspects of rhythm and meter, and indeed this has been a strong
stimulus for the development of metric theory Foundational studies in this
regard include Robert P. Morgan, “The Theory and Analysis of Tonal Rhythm,”
Musical Quarterly 64, no. 4 (1978): 435–73; William Rothstein, Phrase Rhythm in
Tonal Music (New York: Schirmer Books, 1989); and three papers by Carl
Schachter reprinted in Unfoldings (New York: Oxford University Press, 1999).
For further references, see David Carson Berry, A Topical Guide to Schenkerian
Literature: An Annotated Bibliography with Indices (Hillsdale, NY: Pendragon
Press, 2004).
(28.) Hans Georg Nägeli, “Die Liederkunst,” Allgemeine Musikalische Zeitung 45

(1817): 765–66.
(29.) Nägeli, “Die Liederkunst,” 766. The italics are given as in Nägeli's text.
(30.) Nägeli's “Die Liederkunst” has not received much attention in the Anglo‐
American scholarship. Beate Julia Perrey discusses the essay briefly as a
precursor for Schumann's practice and aesthetics: see Perrey, Schumann's
Dichterliebe and Early Romantic Poetics: Fragmentation of Desire (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 2002), 61–62. Marie‐Agnes Dittrich cites one of
Nägeli's earlier essays, from 1811, and may have been influenced by Nägeli
when she describes a “polyrhythmic combining of an accompaniment and quite
differently structured vocal line” in “Gretchen am Spinnrade.” See Dittrich, “The
Lieder of Schubert,” in The Cambridge Companion to the Lied, ed. James
Parsons (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004), 85 and 91. More
extensive discussions of Nägeli's essay can be found in German scholarship; see
especially Walther Dürr, Das deutsche Sololied im 19. Jahrhundert:
Untersuchungen zu Sprache und Musik (Wilhelmshaven: Heinrichshofen, 1984).
Jon Finson features the idea of polyrhythm in his notes on Schumann's songs,
citing Dürr and Nägeli; see Finson, Robert Schumann, 6. Further mentions of
Page 34 of 36
polyrhythm in Finson's book can be found via the index entry “polyrhythmic
lied.”
(31.) The most extended review of Lied aesthetics in the eighteenth and early
nineteenth centuries is in Heinrich W. Schwab, Sangbarkeit, Popularität und
Kunstlied: Studien zu Lied und Liedästhetik der mittleren Goethezeit 1770–1814
(Regensburg: Gustav Bosse Verlag, 1965). See also James Parsons, “The
Eighteenth‐Century Lied,” in The Cambridge Companion to the Lied, ed. James
Parsons (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004), 35–62; and J. W.
Smeed, German Song and Its Poetry 1740–1900 (London: Croom Helm, 1987),
chap. 2.
(32.) Parsons, “The Eighteenth‐Century Lied,” 54–56. See also Amanda Glauert,
“The Lieder of Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach, Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven,” in
The Cambridge Companion to the Lied, ed. James Parsons (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 2004), 63–82.
(33.) Schwab, Sangbarkeit, Popularität und Kunstlied, 171.
(34.) Cited and translated in Cone, “Words into Music,” 115. See also Parsons,
“The Eighteenth‐Century Lied,” 60.
(35.) Nägeli, “Die Liederkunst,” 766.
(36.) Otto Erich Deutsch, The Schubert Reader, trans. Eric Blom (New York:
Norton, 1947), 875.
(37.) David Lewin, “Auf dem Flusse: Image and Background in a Schubert Song,”
in Studies in Music with Text (New York: Oxford University, 2006), 110.
(38.) Lewin, “Auf dem Flusse,” 111. For another perspective on songs as
interpretive readings of the poetic texts, see Cone, “Words into Music.”
(39.) Edward T. Cone, The Composer's Voice (Berkeley: University of California

Press, 1974), 3.
(40.) Edward T. Cone, “Poet's Love or Composer's Love?” in Music and Text:
Critical Inquiries, ed. Steven Paul Scher (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 1992), 179.
(41.) Berthold Hoeckner, “Poet's Love and Composer's Love,” Music Theory
Online 7, no. 5 (2001): 2.6.
(42.) Two additional sources on music‐text relations in the Lied have been
influential in recent years: Kofi Agawu, “Theory and Practice in the Analysis of
the Nineteenth‐Century Lied,” Music Analysis 11, no. 1 (1992): 3–36; and
Lawrence M. Zbikowski, Conceptualizing Music: Cognitive Structure, Theory,
Page 35 of 36
and Analysis (New York: Oxford University Press, 2002), chap. 6. Agawu
approaches signification in song via Schenkerian analysis, Zbikowski via
theories of metaphor and conceptual blending.
(43.) Nägeli, “Die Liederkunst,” 779–80.
(44.) See George B. Stauffer, Bach: The Mass in B Minor (New Haven, CT: Yale
University Press, 2003), 180.
(45.) See Dürr, Das deutsche Sololied im 19. Jahrhundert, 17.
(46.) See the references in note 27 of this chapter and the discussion in chap. 2.
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The Rhythms of Poetry and Song

Songs in Motion: Rhythm and Meter in the

Print publication date: 2010

The Rhythms of Poetry and Song

Abstract and Keywords

The nineteenth‐century Lied has a number of characteristic rhythmic features.

commonly set in two‐measure phrase segments, couplets in four‐measure

Poetic Meter and Rhythm

Wíe im Mórgenglánze As in the morning brilliance

Dú rings mich ánglühst, You glow, surrounding me,

Frǘhling, Gelíebter! Spring, beloved!

Regular poetic meters occur in a variety of common patterns. As we have noted

O sprích mein Liéb warúm? O speak, my love, why?

Die bláuen Veílchen so stúmm? Are the blue violets so silent?

Mánche Trä́n’ aus meínen Aúgen Many a tear from my eyes

Íst gefállen ín den Schnée; Has fallen in the snow;

Seíne kálten Flócken sáugen Its cold flakes drink up

Dúrstig eín das heísse Wéh. thirstily the hot sorrow.

The syllables here may be grouped in trochees—disyllabic feet in the pattern

Gelássen stiég die Nácht an's Lánd, u‐u‐u‐u‐

Lehnt trä́umend án der Bérge Wánd, u‐u‐u‐u‐

Ihr Áuge siéht die góldne Wáge nún u‐u‐u‐u‐u‐

Der Zeít in gleíchen Schálen stílle rúhn; u‐u‐u‐u‐u‐

Und kécker ráuschen die Quéllen hervór, u‐u‐uu‐uu‐

Sie síngen der Mútter, der Nácht, ins Óhr u‐uu‐uu‐u‐

Vom Táge, u‐u

Vom héute gewésenen Táge. u‐uu‐uu‐u

Calmly the night rose onto the land,

Leans dreamily against the wall of the mountains,

Her eye now sees the golden balance

Of time resting still in equal scales;

And the springs gush out more boldly,

The day that was today.9

Aus der Heímat hínter den Blítzen rót uu‐u‐uu‐u‐

Da kómmen die Wólken hér, u‐uu‐u‐

Aber Váter und Mútter sind lánge tódt, uu‐uu‐uu‐u‐

Es kénnt mich dort keíner méhr. u‐uu‐u‐

From my home beyond the red lightning

come the clouds,

But father and mother are long dead,

No one knows me there anymore.

Meine Rúh ist hín, My peace is gone,

Mein Hérz ist schwér; My heart is heavy;

Ich fínde sie nímmer I shall find them never

Und nímmerméhr. And nevermore.

Ich grólle nícht, und wénn das Hérz auch brícht,

Das éinst die Líebste sáng, which once my sweetheart sang,

So wíll mir die Brúst zerspríngen, then my heart wants to burst,

Vor wíldem Schmérzendráng. from the pressure of savage pain.

Am Brúnnen vòr dem Tóre, By the well in front of the gate,

Da stéht ein Líndenbáum: There stands a linden tree:

Ich trä́umt’ in sèinem Schátten I dreamed in its shade

So mánchen sǘssen Tráum. So many sweet dreams.

Degrees of poetic accent may be reflected in musical settings by metrical

The third aspect of poetic

The stanza above from “Der Lindenbaum” illustrates a complete alignment of

Rauschet die schöne Will rustle the lovely forest

Der Zeít in gleíchen Schálen stílle Of time resting still in equal

Relative flow within lines delineates poetic voices in Reinick's

“O versenk,’ o versenk’ dein Leid, mein Kind,

Ein Stein wohl bleibt auf des Meeres Grund,

A stone may remain at the bottom of the sea,

From Poetic Rhythm to Musical Rhythm

12, 13, 15