The Washington times., 1895-05-12

The opening bloom OF every social grace
| And all those eourtesies that love TO Shoot
Round Virtues stem the fIow'rets of her
fruit"
In tue last four lines may be traced
| perhaps justification of my theory that
the lack of courtesy, which Minister Merry
complained had bsen shown him formed
| Moores inspiration. To quote again:
Long has the love of gold. that meanest
rage
| And latest folly of mans sinking age,
| Which, rarely venturing in the van OF l1fe
| Wine nolIer passions wage their heated
strife.
Come skuIking last, with selfishness and
/ fear.
Long has it palsied every graspiDg hand
And greedy spirit through this bartering
| Turn'd lie to traffic, set the demon gold
So loose abroad that Virtues self is sold.
And Consciepce. Truth. and Honesty are
! made
To rise and fail like other wares of trade. :"
These latter lines may have much con-
| ISOLATION for the pessimists, who proclaim
that the halls of Congress are altogether
| controlled by the third house. But thank
heaven, it is not 30, the pessimist to the
| contrary Notwithstanding. The poison is
in the air, no doubt. but it has its anti
dote in the pure ozone which surrounds
and permeates our larger and better life.
Every great movement and every effort
ruffianism." but it is only fringe.
Tho venom in Moore's mind is again
shown:
ALREADY in this free, this virtuous state,
Which. Freuchmen tell us. was ordained
To show the world what high perfection
From rabhle senators and merchant kings
Even here already patriots learn to steal
or tn MI Ia Vpn
And, guardians of the country's sacred fire,
Like Afric's priests, they let the flame for
Those vaunted demagogues. who nobly
From England's debtors to be EngIand's
foes,
Who could their monarch in their purse
forget,
And break allegiance but to cancel debt.
Have provd at length the minerals tempt
ing hue,
Which makes a patriot can unmake him
too.
Oh, Freedom, Freedom, how Ihate thy can't
Not Eastern bombast, not the savage rant
or purpled madmen, were they numbered
all,
From Roman Nero down to Russian Paul,
Could CRATE upon my ear so mean, SO base,
AS the rank Jargon OF that factious race,
Who, poor of heart and prodigal of words,
Born to be slaves and struggling 10 be lords,
But pant Tor license while they spurn con-
troll,
And shout for rights with rapino in their
Let US look, abroad upon our magnifi-
cent city and see how, after ninety one
years, some OF Moore's bitter lines 10 DR..
Hume have turned to prophecy:
lin fancy now beneath the twilight gloom,
Come, let me lead thee Ger this modern
Rome,
Where tribunes rule, where dusky Davi
bow,
And what was Goose Greek once is Tiber
now.
This fam'd metropolis. where Fancy sees
Squares in moraSseS, obeisks in treeS
Which travelling fools and gaZeteeTs adorn
With shrines unbuilt and heroes yet unborn"
Every true American citizen, no matter
what the land OF his birth, viii regret
that the prophecy in the following lines
has had too large measure of reaIiza-
tion:
''or worse, thou mighty world, OH doubIy
worse.
Did heaven design thy IorCily land to nurse
The motley dregs OF every distant cline,
Each blast OF anarchy and taint OF crime,
Which Europe shakes from her perturbed
sphere,
in full maIiguity To rankIe here?''
Closing his letter TO Hume he asks him to-
''hlingle converse dear
BY Thames at home, or by Potomac here.
Ger lake ana marsh, through levers and
MIDST Dears and Yankees, Democrats and
Thy foot shall follow me, thy heart and
eyes
with me shall wander, and with me de-
spise.
These bitter lines which, it is said,
Moore lived to regret, though addressed to
Forbes and Hume, were read WITH relish
by all England; and it was but natural
that the fire of hate thus fed by him should
have burst into flames in the White House
a few years later, practically destroying
the scene of Merry's insult" and iIlumi-
mating the little cottage where Moore ex-
changed the poison OF his pen for hospi-
tality
We may dislike Moore for the uncalled-
for bitterness of bi sWashingtou letters.
but we cannot dispise him, for even in them
the strength of his poetic genius Is evident;
and, forgetting bis aspersious, which
Time, the sweet soother of hate has
helped to soften, no student of literature
will gainsay his greatness. He will ever
rank as one of the truest, sweetest poets
in the English language a man of wonderful
industry and great learning. The realm
of song would be poorer il he had not
given to il 1.-The warm lay of love and the
light note of gladness," aud until Time
is no more the beauty, sweetness and
richness OF his Irish melodies will have
worldwide influence. His sacred songs
will ever be sung on affairs of many creeds,
and the 'barbaric splendors" of the Orient,
which he so faithfully pictured in "Lalla
Rookh," can never cease to fire the
imagination or the reader. His prose
works would of themselves alone be an
enduring monument TO him. The songs of
Moore may not have the passion or the
power Of the lyric of Burns, for Moore is
not the poet of the people i'll any wide sense
or that meaning. He has not specially
voiced the aspirations of the plough, the
loom or the forge. He has no song of
which it can be said, as Carlyle has said of
Burns best known lyric, lit might be
sung by the throat of the whirlwind"
But Burns aside, in pathos, tenderness,
play of wit, brilliancy of fancy and rich
adornment, the bard of Erin must everclaim
high, if not the highest, place among
our song writers.
During the greater part of Moore's life
all the gods were kind to him. From an
humble position in the social scale he rose
to the very highest. He was feted and
petted by the great ones of the land His
social and literary successes went to-
gether. His singing was the rage in every
fashionable circle up to that of royalty