“THE SWEETEST LYRIC POET."

New Zealand Times, Volume LXXVII, Issue 5558, 8 April 1905, Page 10

“THE SWEETEST LYRIC POET."

ENGLISH MEN OF LETTERS. “Thomas Moore.” By Stephen Gwynn. Macmillan and Co., London. Whit combe and Tombs, Wellington. Fully throo generations have passed away since the “Edinburgh Review” declared Mooro to bo “the sweetest lyric poet of this, or perhaps any other ago” but it is now questioned whether Moore’s works are entitled to-day .to the estimates his contemporaries made of them in his own time. Professor Wilson, one of purest of prose-writ-ers, knowing Moore personally, said that “of all the song-writers that eve; warbled, or chanted, or sung, tho’ best in our estimation, is verily none othei than Thomas Moore.” Moore was a lovable men. To Leigh Hunt he was “as delightful a person as one could imagine”; to Byron he was “altogether more pleasing than any individual with whom I am acquainted”: Sydney Smith describe*? him as “full of genius, and a steady friend”; and to Lord Russell “no one poet can equal Mooro in the united excellence and abundance of his productions.” But our author presents Thomas Moore in a plainer garb. He finds him an agreeable, high-minded, honourable gentleman; a singer of raw charm and power; a writer of lyric poetry of no mean order: still a poet of no great personality, whose name is still romemoerea, Put whoso work is a vanishing quantity from the hearts of his countrymen and tho minds of English readers. -Here, indeed, is Hr Gwyna's first paragraph: “Sudden fame, acquired -with little difficulty, suffers generally a period of obscuration after the compelling power which attaches k to a man’s living personality has been removed : and from this darkness it does not always emerge. Of such splendoui and subsequent eclipse Moore’s fate might be cited as tho capital example.” Let it be admitted that Moore’s contemporaries thought too highly of him, that Russell and th© others mentioned were speaking more from friendship than by judgment, it does not follow that the eclipse of Moore will be permanent. It may bo at once admitted, also, that Moore is not as natural a lyrist as Burns, and he is not as dear to his countrymen as the Scottish poot to Scotsmen; still, Moore’s Irish melodies will dwell in the hearts of tho Irish as long as any exist, and tho beauty and charm of Moore’s gems will appeal to the hearts of millions as long as the English language is extant; While not questioning the appropriateness of Mr Gwynn’s judgment as expressed in the simile already quoted, it may be that Moore will be revived at no distant date, and his Irish melodies be as much in vogue, and his name as popular, as when he captivated London by the refined- gaiety of his manner and the brilliant exposition of his own songs in tho drawing-rooms of the best English society. Thomas .Moore was the son of a respectable grocer and spirit merchant in Dublin and after undergoing a course of training under Mr Samuel Whyte, the schoolmaster of Richard Brinsley Sheridan ho was entered, in 1794, at Dublin University, to complete his studies. A year before this we find him, at tho ago of fourteen, “dabbling in verse,” paraphrasing Anacreon odes and penning compliments to Miss Hannah Byrne and Mr Wyhte, that to the latter beginning with this exalted lino “Hail heaven-taught votary of tho laurell’d Nino,” which Mr Gwynn observes is an unusual form of address from a schoolboy to his pedagogue. While studying classics at Trinity, he took Italian from a priest, and French from an emigrant, and become proficient in music anc singing. It is worth noting that Moore became imbued with revolutionary and republican notions in his youth and ahan doned them in years of discretion. During his student days ho formod a strong friendship with Robert Emmet, of tragic fame, and Moor© tells of “tho blamelossness of Emmet’s life and the grave suavity of his manners.” Years after the friend of his boyhood aronsed in Moore something akin to hero-wor-st ip. and in the first number of his “Irish Melodies” he writes:

O breathe not his name, let it sleep in the shade, Where cold and tmhonoxtred his ashes are laid; Sad. silent, and dark be ■ the tears that we shed. As the night-dew that falls on the grass o’er his head. But the night-dew that falls, though in silence it weeps. Shall brighten with verdure the grave where he sleeps; And the tear that we shed, though in secret it rolls. Shall, long keep his memory green in our, souls. It was also Moore’s strong sen'se of Ireland’s injuries that led him to glorify rebellion in that fine passage set in “Lalla Rookh”— Rebellion! foul, dishonouring word. Whose wrongful blight so oft has stain’d - The holiest cause that tongue or sword Of mortal ever lost or gam’d: How many a spirit, horn to bless. Hath sunk beneath that withering name. Whom but a day’s, an hour’s success. Had wafted to eternal fame. In the same poem, Moore typifies Robert Emmet and Sarah Curran as Hafed and Hinda, who, as lovers, were torn asunder by external circumstances—the man forfeiting the fruition of declarelove rather than abandon a national cause, and the girl dies of a broker heart— She is far from the land where he) young hero sleeps. And lovers are round her sighing; But coldly she turns from their gaze, and weeps. For her heart is his grave is lying. But we cannot quote more of Moore’s delightful verse, or we will have little left for the story of his life and a few words of further criticism of the pains taking, pleasing and withal adequate estimate of Ireland’s national poet. In his twentieth year Moore pro,_ceeds to London with the "Odes of.

Anacreon” under his arm, so to speals Lord Moira introduces him to the j Prince of Wales, who agrees that Moore should dedicate the “Odes” to him. Ii a letter to his mother announcing this “stroke of fortune,” ho winds up witl these words; “But, my dearest mother, it has cost me a new coat. By the hye, I am still in my other tailor’s debt.” And here, remarks Mr Gwynn, "on© has in a nutshell the epitome of Moore’s life, if the life were to be written from a hostile point of view.” Yet Moore’s was a dazzling promotion. The son of a Irish tradesman is flattered by the heir-apparent. From this moment Moore never lost ground in English society. Playing his own accompani meats, he sang his own songs, and won his way into the hearts of his hearers. Favours fell upon him rapidly. He was appointed Registrar of the Court of Admiralty at Bermuda—a lucrative, but uncongenial post. Ho appointed a deputy and travelled through America. He returned to England, quarrelled with Jeffrey, of th© “Edinburgh” and Byron; and after playing at duelling with them they all swore eternal friendship 1 Moore was conceited and highspirited to strangers, and free and genial to found friends. Again Moor© became the fashion in London. He was invited everywhere, and was ever a welcome guest at the tables of the aristocracy. It was in 1807 that his “Irish Melodies” appeared,; and sot to music by Sir J. Stevenson, they acquired an immense ‘‘popularity. He married Miss Bessie Dykes in 1811, and she proved a devoted and tender wife. Longman’s offered his £3OOO for “Lalla Bookh.” and the poem was completed in 1817, and his other works followed rapidly. His deputy fled from Bermuda with a ship and left Moore answerable for £6OOO. Moore quitted England for a time, and during these enforced travels he wrote “Rhymes on the Road.” When the difficulty of the levanting deputy was settled Moore returned again to London. He died in comparative poverty at the advanced ago of 73, but after seventy he was a mental and physical wreck. Lord Bussell his “Memoirs,” and with the proceeds (£3000) bought an annuity equal to Moore’s pension. Five children were the issue of his marriage with Miss Dykes, but they all died before their parents, and in hjs diary Moore wrote: “The last of our five children now are gone, and 1 am left desolate and alone. Not a single relative have I now left in the world.” This is sad and pathetic. Yet the vogue Moore established at two and twenty never diminished in his life-time. Moore admitted that Wordsworth, Scott, and Byron were greater poets, yet they had not the popularity he enjoyed, and we should imagine that Moore’s “Irish Melodies” will still enjoy a popularity to which the works of th© former may never approach. Moore, withal, was a man of fine fancy, warm heart and exquisite sensibilities, a good son, devoted husband and loving father, ..and, above all, a poetic genius.' To all these qualities of heart and gifts of mind, Mr Gwynn has done Ireland’s poet and England's greatest lyric justice., His work is that of a fair-minded critic. While it describes the glorification of Moore by English society, it cannot be said to endorse it.