Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1879-05-30

press. All present bad listened to the music,
tie strains for which bad been composed by
the hand and heart Of Moore while tho picture
Rlowiuqly set before them. They had been
told Of the illuatrious life Of Moore, in tones of
impaaaioned eloquence. In speaking of the
manner nwhich the bard 3 patriotnm had been
questioned and his motives naliRned
BY An alleged Sc. Paul newspaper, the speaker
called attention to the euicgy paid to the
had said that no honor VS. too great u be CON-
ferred upon him. In conclusion, theSspeaker
mid that first among Engliah speaking poets
stood Ireland's gifted son. Tom Moore. and
the assertion that he was not patriut and .
supporter OF the Catholic church was unquali.
srsasist. ever Written n hsd been psened by
Moore, and those who had written % the con-
truth. s5z
The following portion Of the poem was then
recited, several passages being greeted with
great applause:
Glory to Moore eternal be the glory
That here we crown and consecrate to-day,
Glory to Moore, for he has sung our story
In strains whose sweetness meier can pass
away. 3e S
Glory to Moore, for he has sighed our sorrow
In such vail of melody divine,
That even from grief q passing Joy We borrow,
And inger long DER each lamenting line.
Glory to Moore, that in his songs of gladness
Which neither change nor time can e'er
destroy.
Though mingled oft with some faint sigh of
sadness,
Hesings his country rapture and its joy.
What wit like his filings out electric flashes
That make the numbers sparkle as they run
Wit that revives dull history's Dead.sea ashes,
And m akoo tho riro frnik nil the ann ?
What fancy full of loneliness and lightnes,
Has spread like his as at some dazzling feast,
The fruits and flowers, the beauty and the
brightness,
And all the golden gloriea of the East?
Perpetual blooms his bower of summer roses,
| No winter comes to turn his green leaves sere,
Beside his song-stream where the swan reposee
The bulbul sings as by the BendeMoer.
But back returning from his flight with Peris.
Above his native fields he sings his. best,
Like to the lark whose rapture never ,wearies,
When poised in air he singeth o er his nest.
And so we rank him with the great departed,
The kings of song who rule us from their urns,
The souls inspired, the natures noble hearted,
And place him proudly by the side of Burns.
And as not only by the Cation Mountain,
| Is Scotland's bard remembered and revered,
But wheresoe'e r, like some o'er1owing fountain
AeS u0Iuy I0Cc q pIOaHoIOub phtH HOS CAcdIeu.
There mid the roar of newly-rising cities,
His glorious name is heard on every tongue,
There to the music of immortal ditties,
His lays of love, his patriot songs are sung.
So not alone beside that bay of beauty
That guards the portals Of his native town,
Where like two watchful sentinels on duty,
Howth and kidney from their heights look
down.
But wheresoeer the exile race hath drifted,
BY what far sea. what mighty stream beside.
There shall to-day the poets name be lifted,
And Moore proclaimed its glory and its pride.
There shall his name be held in fond memcnto,
! There shall his songs resound for evermore,
Whether beside the golden Sacramento,
! Or where Niagaras thunder shakes the
shore;-
For all that's bright indeed must fade and
perish,
And all that's sweet when sweetest not endure
Before the world shall cease to love and cherish
| The wit and song, the name and fame Of
Moore.
The entertainment was closed with "The
Harp that Once Through Tara's Hall, which
was impressively sung by Miss Emma bag
gerty, Miss Grace Haggerty, and Messrs. Hun
| neman and Buckalew.