J|f>e gtentertari? of ^oore. MAY 28th, 1879. AN ODE BY DENIS FLORENCE MAC CARTHY, M.R.I.A. WITH ^ ®ranslattnn into latin BY THE REV. JULIUS MAXWELL BLACKER, A.M. LONDON. Iprinttb for |)rHrat£ Circulation. * «r With the A uthor's and Translator's Compliments. 2i, Notting Hill Terrace, London, IV. 12 1 , St. George’s Road, London , S. IV. THE CENTENARY OF MOORE MAY 28th, 1879. Jltt ©tu BY DENIS FLORENCE MAC CARTHY, M.R.I.A. Vi Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2017 with funding from University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign Alternates https://archive.org/details/centenaryofmooreOOmacc ^2 l W27o ODE. OY to Ierne, joy, This day a deathless crown is won, Her Child of Song, her glorious son, Her Minstrel Boy, Attains his Century of fame, Completes his time-allotted zone, And proudly with the world’s acclaim Ascends the Lyric Throne. II. Yes, joy to her whose path so long, Slow journeying to her realm of rest O’er many a rugged mountain’s crest, He charmed with his enchanting song : & t 59262 6 Like his own princess in the tale, When he who had her way beguiled Through many a bleak and desert wild Until she reached Cashmere’s bright vale Had ceased those notes to play and sing To which her heart responsive swelled, She looking up, in him beheld Her minstrel lover and her king— So Erin now, her journey well-nigh o’er, Enraptured sees her minstrel king in Moore. m. And round that throne whose light to-day O’er all the world is cast, In words though weak, in hues though faint, Congenial Fancy rise and paint The spirits of the past Who here their homage pay— Those who his youthful muse inspired, Those who his early genius fired To emulate their lay :— And as in some phantasmal glass Let the immortal spirits pass, Let each renew the inspiring strain, And fire the poet’s soul again. & _ X 7 IV. First there comes from classic Greece, Beaming love and breathing peace, With her pure sweet smiling face, The glory of the yEolian race, Beauteous Sappho, violet-crowned, Shedding joy and rapture round :—- In her hand a harp she bears, Parent of celestial airs,— Love leaps trembling from each wire, Every chord a string of fire :— How the poet’s heart doth beat, How his lips the notes repeat, Till in rapture borne along, The Sapphic lute, the lyrist’s song Blend in one delicious strain, Never to divide again. v. And beside the .Eolian Queen Great Alcaeus’ form is seen, He takes up in voice more strong The dying cadence of the song, And on loud resounding strings Hurls his wrath on tyrant kings : — u * 1 8 Like to incandescent coal On the poet’s kindred soul Fall these words of living flame, Till their songs become the same,— The same hate of slavery’s night, The same love of freedom’s light— Scorning aught that stops its way, Come the black cloud whence it may, Lift alike the inspired song, And the liquid notes prolong. VI. Carolling a livelier measure Comes the Teian Bard of Pleasure, Round his brow where joy reposes Radiant love enwreaths his roses, Rapture in his verse is ringing, Soft persuasion in his singing :— ’Twas the same melodious ditty Moved Polycrates to pity, Made that tyrant heart surrender Captive to a tone so tender : To the younger bard inclining, Round his brow the roses twining, First the wreath in red wine steeping, He his cithern to his keeping K - % 9 Yields, its glorious fate foreseeing, From her chains a nation freeing, Fetters new around it flinging In the flowers of his own singing. VII. But who is this that from the misty cioud Of immemorial years, Wrapped in the vesture of his vaporous shroud With solemn step appears ? His head with oak-leaves and with ivy crowned Lets fall its silken snow, While the white billows of his beard unbound Athwart his bosom flow :— Who is this venerable form Whose hands, prelusive of the storm Across his harp-strings play— That harp which trembling in his hand Impatient waits its lord’s command To pour the impassioned lay ? Who is it comes with reverential hail To greet the Bard who sang his country best ? ’Tis Ossian—primal poet of the Gael— The Homer of the West. IO VIII. He sings the heroic tales of old When Ireland yet was free, Of many a fight and foray bold, And raid beyond the sea. Of all the famous deeds of Fin, And all the wiles of Maev, Now thunders ’mid the battle’s din, Now sobs beside the wave. That wave empurpled by the sword The hero used too well, When great Cuchullin held the ford, And fair Ferdiah fell. And now his prophet eye is cast As o’er a boundless plain, He sees the future as the past, And blends them in his strain. The Red-Branch Knights their flags unfold When danger’s front appears, The Sun-burst breaks through clouds of gold To glorify their spears. K ---* 11 But ah ! a darker hour drew nigh, The hour of Erin’s woe, When she, though destined not to die Lay prostrate ’neath the foe. When broke were all the arms she bore, And bravely bore in vain, Till even her harp could sound no more Beneath the victor’s chain. Ah ! dire constraint, ah ! cruel wrong, To fetter thus its chord, But well they knew that Ireland’s song Was keener than her sword. That song would pierce where swords would fail, And o’er the battle’s din, The sweet sad music of the Gael A peaceful victory win. Long was the trance, but sweet and low The harp breathed out again Its speechless wail, its wordless woe In Carolan’s witching strain. Until at last the gift of words Denied to it so long, Poured o’er the now enfranchised chords The articulate light of song. & _ ^ K -X 12 Poured the bright light from genius won That woke the harp’s wild lays— Even as that statue which the sun Made vocal with his rays. Thus Ossian in disparted dream Outpoured the varied lay, But now in one united stream His rapture finds its way :— “Yes, in thy hands, illustrious son, The harp shall speak once more, Its sweet lament shall rippling run From listening shore to shore. Till mighty lands that lie unknown Far in the fabled West, And giant isles of verdure thrown Upon the South Sea’s breast. And plains where rushing rivers flow— Fit emblems of the free— Shall learn to know of Ireland’s woe, And Ireland’s weal through thee.” M i3 K IX. ’Twas thus he sang, And while tumultuous plaudits rang, From the immortal throng, In the younger minstrel’s hand He placed the emblem of the land— The harp of Irish song. X. Oh ! what dulcet notes are heard. Never bird Soaring through the sunny air Like a prayer Borne by angel’s hands on high So entranced the listening sky As his song— Soft, pathetic, joyous, strong, Rising now in rapid flight Out of sight Like a lark in its own light, Now descending low and sweet To our feet, Till the odours of the grass With the light notes as they pass Blend and meet: H All that Erin’s memory guards In her heart, Deeds of heroes, songs of bards. Have their part, Brian’s glories reappear, Fionualla’s song we hear, Tara’s walls resound again With a more inspired strain, Rival rivers meet and join, Stately Shannon blends with Boyne, While on high the storm-winds cease Heralding the arch of peace. XI. And all the bright creations fair That 'neath his master-hand awake, Some in tears and some in smiles, Like Nea in the summer isles, Or Kathleen by the lonely lake, Round his radiant throne repair : Nay, his own Peri of the air Now no more disconsolate, Gives in at Fame’s celestial gate His passport to the skies— The gift to heaven most dear, His country’s tear. i5 From every lip the glad refrain doth rise, “Joy, ever joy, his glorious task is done, The gates are passed and Fame’s bright heaven is won ! ” XII. Ah! yes, the work, the glorious work is done, And Erin crowns to-day her brightest son, Around his brow entwines the victor bay, And lives herself immortal in his lay— Leads him with honour to her highest place, For he had borne his more than mother’s name Proudly along the Olympic lists of fame When mighty athletes struggled in the race. Byron, the swift-souled spirit, in his pride Paused to cheer on the rival by his side, And Lycidas so long Lost in the light of his own dazzling song, Although himself unseen, Gave the bright wreath that might his own have been To him whom ’mid the mountain shepherd throng, The minstrels of the isles, When Adonais died so fair and young, Iern£ sent from out her green defiles “ The sweetest lyrist of her saddest wrong, And love taught grief to fall like music from his tongue.”— g___2 16 And he who sang of Poland’s kindred woes, And Hope’s delicious dream, And all the mighty minstrels who arose In that Auroral gleam That o’er our age a blaze of glory threw Which Shakspere’s only knew— Some from their hidden haunts remote, Like him the lonely hermit of the hills, Whose song like some great organ note The whole horizon fills. Or the great Master, he whose magic hand, Wielding the wand from which such wonder flows, Transformed the lineaments of a rugged land, And left the thistle lovely as the rose. Oh ! in a concert of such minstrelsy, In such a glorious company, What pride for Ireland’s harp to sound, For Ireland’s son to share, What pride to see him glory-crowned, And hear amid the dazzling gleam Upon the rapt and ravished air Her harp still sound supreme ! K--- % 17 XIII. 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 ne’er can pass away. Glory to Moore, for he has sighed our sorrow In such a wail of melody divine, That even from grief a passing joy we borrow, And linger long o’er 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, He sings his country’s rapture and its joy. What wit like his flings out electric flashes That make the numbers sparkle as they run— Wit that revives dull history’s Dead-sea ashes, And makes the ripe fruit glisten in the sun ? What fancy full of loveliness and lightness Has spread like his as at some dazzling feast, The fruits and flowers, the beauty and the brightness, And all the golden glories 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 reposes The bulbul sings as by the Bendemeer. *_ M % ;- % i8 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 Calton Mountain, Is Scotland’s bard remembered and revered, But wheresoe’er, like some o’erflowing fountain Its hardy race a prosperous path has cleared. 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 Killiney from their heights look down. But wheresoe’er the exiled race hath drifted, By what far sea, what mighty stream beside, There shall to-day the poet’s name be lifted, And Moore proclaimed its glory and its pride. K — -* 19 There shall his name be held in fond memento, There shall his songs resound for evermore, Whether beside the golden Sacramento, Or where Niagara’s 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. DIONYSII FLORENTII MAC CARTHY IN HONOREM THOMJi MORI, POERE, Carman lEprintm. FESTO CENTEN NALI a.d. V. Kal. Jun. MDCCCLXXIX. LATINE REDDITUM A M. J. BLACKER, A.M. M. J. B. Dionysio Florentio Mac Car thy, Salutem. Habes, Vir Optime, Carmen tuum seculare , Latine redditum; in quo opere perficiendo , nihil sane in te contuli, at ipse non mediocrem voluptatem lucratus sum. Quod potui , preestiti. Fieri potest ut me nimia libertate usum esse existimes, sed quantum peccavissem, si verbum verbo, versum versu, interpretari conatus essem, ipse , qui et aliorum poemata Anglice reddideris , et tua in alias linguas translata Eger is, probe judicabis. Quod restat, quamvis tot eleganter et nervosc cogitata me verius deformasse quam transformasse confitear , tamen , si quid vigoris et venustatis invio- latum servaverim, Musis et Apollini (si Pagane loqui licet) gratias ago. Vale. Carmen fCprirum. i. UDIA ter felix hodie sua prodat Ierne ; Hoc datur, immunis morte, corona die. Qui coluit Musas, Hibernae gloria matris, Et patriae junxit verba canora lyrae, Rite recensiti perfecto temporis orbe, Jam centumgeminae praemia laudis habet; Dumque volens ofifert hominum concordia plausus, Jure tenet lyrici sceptra superba throni. II. Hoc felix sit Ierna die, quam, tramite lassam, Otia dum pacis saepe morata cupit, Dumque per acclives scopulos apicesque laborat, Ille magus novit laetificare modis. w n 26 Regia ceu virgo Mori celebrata camoena, Quae fera deserti per loca fecit iter, Et tetigit demum confinia vallis apricae Quae viret Indorum semisepulta jugis, Vox ubi cessavit, solamen grande laborum, Dulceque quo fuerant percita corda melos, Suspiciens comitem jam recto lumine, vultum Agnovit proprii priiicipis- atque proci; Non aliter vatemque suum regemque salutans, Luctibus exactis gaudet Ierna vise. III. Musa, veni, fictrix rerum, solioque propinques, Unde per humanum lux nitet aucta genus ; Musa veni, quamvisque nimis mea verba laborent, Sit minus ingenium, deficiatque nitor, Arte tamen vari&, tu non invita sub auras Heroas tumulum qui subiere refer. Si socium vatem, puero cui saepe dederunt Nascentis stimulos ambitionis, amant, Hi redeant manes, magici velut agmina vitri, Carminis ut renovent vim referantque faces. W. - % 2 ^ IV. Prima venit Sappho quam Graecia culta remittit; Cui comites adstant pax et honestus amor ; Exhibet ingenue! nitidum dulcedine vultum Nominis ALolii dulce puella decus. Huic caput exornat violis intexta corolla, Hujus ab ingenio gaudia mille fluunt; In manibus cithara est genitrix divina sonorum, Filaque quae trepido corde pererrat amor ; En ! fidicen noster chordarum concipit ignem, Cor salit, et recinit mox memor ipse modos. Inde pari coeunt Sappho Fidicenque camoena, Quae manet in longos foedere juncta dies. V. ALoliam sequitur tactu graviore puellam, Carminaque Alcaeus jam moritura novat; Hie digitis agitat resonantia fila severis, Vique tyrannorum sceptra furente domat. Fax velut, incendunt nostrum fera verba poetam, Igneus et paribus fervet uterque modis. Hie servile jugum simul indignatur et ille ; Lux libertatis dulcis utrique placet; &_ v * -* 28 Opposite spernunt molem formidinis ambo, Securi violens unde procella ruat. Sic gemini vates simili fervore trahuntur, Atque pari jungunt usque tenore sonos. VI. Deinde senem mittit Teos Ieviora canentem, Cui festiva rosis tempora vinxit Amor. Nectareos animat numeros effrena voluptas; Et regit imbellem blanda loquela lyram, Qua? posita feritate Sami movisse tyrannum Dicitur, et teneris cor tetigisse modis. Ecce colit vatem fidicen vetus ille nepotem, Ornat et impositis tempora docta comis, Infunditque merum serto, mandatque tenendas, Victuras duplici nobilitate, tides ; Inde suas felix abrumpat Ierna catenas, Quaeque dedit Morus mollia vincla gerat. VII. Quis gravis incedit saecli de nube prioris, Contegit exilis quern vetus umbra togae ? Cui coma prae nivibus descendens serica candet, Cumque hederi decorat quercea vitta caput ? ifi- 2 29 Cui fluitans, moti veluti maris unda, vagatur Leniter in vetulo Candida barba sinu ? Quis movet hie, digito jam praeludente, procellam, Sollicitatque oestro liberiore fides ? Ipsa tremit, culpatque manus animosa morantes, Carminis afflatus exhibitura, chelys. Quis venit hie vatemque colit, quo suavior alter Non patriae novit commemorare decus ? Quis nisi Fingalides, qui Galli carminis auctor Et novus occiduae partis Homerus adest ? VIII. Hie sonat heroas rudiori carmine priscos, Quum servile ferox sprevit Ierna jugum ; Hie bellatricis memorat certamina gentis, Armaque in externas trans mare missa plagas ; Hie famosa refert magni miracula Finnae, Maevaque quos magica condidit arte dolos. Nunc clamore truci tonat inter fulmina martis, Nune gemit ad surdas, luctibus aeger, aquas. Oh ! quoties rubuit fluctus vibrantibus armis Quae ducis urgebat non superanda manus, Dum vada defendit mirandfi mole Cuchullin, Pulcraque Ferdiae polluit ora solum. 30 Fatidicus Vates SEeclorum prospicit aequor, Et celebrat junctis acta, futura, modis ; Agmen adest Equitum Ramo spectabile Rubro, Signaque per martis prima pericla volant; Vexillum decorat ruptis Sol nubibus auro, Unde repercussa spicula luce micant.— At subiere vices.—Damni gravis hora propinquat, Hora nimis nostris exitiosa malis, I'nsula quum, vires quamvis habitura renatas, Hostiles doluit non bene passa manus. Dissiluit gladius frustra districtus, herili Compede compressae conticuere fides. O feritas atrox quae chordas vinxit amatas, Musa quod Hibernis acrior ense foret, Et quod in horrendi medio clamore duelli Musa, vel armata plus valitura manu, Pacificos olim cuperet properare triumphos, Si fidicen posset tangere Celta lyram. Muta diu, magico Carolani pollice fila, Vocibus heu ! vetitis, triste dedere melos ; Donee, ubi tandem libertas sera revertit, Adderet eloquium lux rediviva sonis. Turn sua vis rediit Musis et vatibus ardor Murmura qui veteris restituere lyrae ; Sol velut, ut fama est, radiis armatus Eois, E bruto sonitus marmore mane ciet. g___a 3i Ilia vetus postquam partita somnia vates Fuderat, haec uno flumine vota dedit; “ Quae tibi vocales praestet, clarissime, chordas, “ En ! chelys in dextram traditur ilia tuam, “ Ut procul undantem, ceu ponti murmura, fletum, “ Auspice te, passim littora cuncta bibant. “ Si quos ingentes celebravit fabula tractus “ Solis ad ignotas disilientis aquas, “ Et quaecunque viret spatiosis insula campis, “ Fluctibus Australis dissociata maris, “ Protensaeque plagae, quas magno flumina findunt “ Gurgite (libertas quae sibi signa velit), “ Damna tuis numeris discant maerentis Iernae, “ Tuque Deus dederit quae meliora canas.” IX. Desiit: et magno plausus sonuere tumultu, Gaudia divino testificante choro ; Nec mora : Fingalides Moro concessit habendam, Quae foret Hibernis tessera nota, lyram. K -- % 32 X. O ! qui liquidus strepor hie circum Dulce vagatur ! scilicet ales Sursum nitidas vecta per auras, Precibus levior quas angelicus Nuntius afifert, non ita mulcet Superas aures. Vicibus carmen Sonat alternis ; modo fit validum, Modo fit maestum ; tenero motu Fluit et laeto ; nunc volat acres, Instar alaudae luce fruentis, Fugiens sensus ; modo demissum Molle susurrat, floris odori Miscens numeros praetereuntes. Quidquid Ierne fovet in memori Corde, priorum decus heroum, Carmina vatum praeteritorum, Praelia magni gesta Briani, Reducesque modi Fionuallae, Nostros iterum feriunt sensus. Moenia cantu mage divino Resonant Tarae ; flumina rixas Dirimunt, Obocum Senus adoptat; Furor extinctus sponte procellae Pacis adornat nuntius Arcum. k -—— * 33 XI. Sua quae vates cunque creavit Concita docto pollice prostant; Aliud lacrymans, aliud ridens, Qualis ad undas Neas aestivas, Qualis imago pia Kathlenae Stagna colentis sola, poetae Circa solium quaeque feruntur ; Peris in alto sua, jam laetis Animis, Famae proxima portis, Ibi mercedem parat introitus, Qua dare posset nil ccelicolis Potius, “ Patriae flentis lacrymas.” Omnes iterant eadem linguae, “ Cessavit opus, gaudia durant: “ Morus, adepto limine victor, “ Nitidam Famae promeret aedem.” XII. Grande opus absolvit pietas. Gens tempora nati Hoc Hiberna die cingit victricia lauru, Quosque dedit vates capit immortalis honores. Hie sedet in solio, qui scripsit nomen lernae, &___V 34 Matre magis carum, Pisaeae codice chartae, Ipse viros inter grandes expertus arenam,— Invidet hand illi Byron animosus ovanti, Collaudatque parem.—Lycidas, qui luce latebat Ipse diu nimia nulli spectabilis, offert Ouam potuit nitidam sibi praeposuisse corollam. Namque, ubi pastorum de montibus utraque misit Insula cantores, (quum fato cessit acerbo Pulcher Adonais) nostrum legarat Ierne Vallibus a riguis vatem, “ quo dulcior olim Dedecus Hibernum nemo plorare solebat; Cujus et a lingua, pulsae ceu murmura chordae, Doctus amore dolor toties maestissimus ibat.”— Plaudit, qui passos non absona damna Polonos Concinit, et quae blanda sibi Spes somnia fingat;— Plaudunt magnanimi, celeberrima turba, poetse, Oui, matutina fulgentes luce, minores Illustrant radiis ; vix hos superaverat olim Ilia vetus, noster qua floruit Alschylus, aetas. Caetera de latebris concurrit turba remotis ; Solorum properat cultor sacer ipse jugorum, Cui tuba complevit numeris gravioribus orbem :— Plaudit et ille magus, divina praeditus arte, Oui, tot perficiens mota miracula virga, Telluris speciem modo non mutavit egenae, Ornavitque rudem paliurum flore rosarum.—- 35 Has inter celebres animas citharaeque peritas, Testudo fruitur quantis Hiberna triumphis ! Quantus honos Moro ! nobis et quanta voluptas, Qui mercede nova celebrem famaque videmus, Perstrictisque oculis lucentia templa tuentes, Audimus cupidi quod fascinat aethera carmen ! XIII. Gloria sit Moro ! Sit honor sine labe perennis, Quem favor hie sanctum rite ratumque facit. Gloria sit Moro, cujus dulcedine linguae Vivet in aeternos patria fama dies. Gloria sit Moro, quia nostros ille labores Divina memorat, maesta sit ilia, lyra, Unde voluptatem nobis dolor ipse ministret, Protrahat et dulces naenia quaeque moras. Gloria sit Moro, lepidS. quia saepe camcen&, Quae fugit hostiles tempus in omne vices, Mollia cum laeto miscens suspiria risu, Non tacuit patriae tristia, laeta, suae. Cujus ab eloquio, numeris spargentibus ignem, Fulgura Musarum splendidiora micant ? Quis novat Historiae vita meliore favillas, Et Syra callidior mala nitere jubet ? %L— -—- * -- n 36 Ouis pariter vafer ingenio verbisque venustis, Mensa velut lautas quae strait ampla dapes, Poma ministravit, flores, formaeque nitorem, Regnaque gazarum quidquid Eoa parant ? Illi perpetuas dant verna rosaria frondes, Vivacesque comas nulla resolvit hyems ; Mode fluens placidos ubi Musa reponit olores, Ceu prope Bendimarum, dat philomela sonos. I lie simul cessat comitari Peridas, agris Verba super patriis nobiliora canit, Indefessa velut, libratis altius alis, Mane super nido cantat alanda suo.— Ergo inter dominos manes decus ille meretur, Queis vetus imperium mors abolere nequit; Heroumque comes divorum, sumit honores Quos tribuit vati Scotica terra suo. Ut neque Caltonis juvenem modo montibus ilium Jure Caledoniae gentis adorat amor, Ast ubicunque procul pleno de fonte redundans Scotorum patrias robur adauxit opes ; Utque, novis ubicunque fremunt clamoribus urbes, Cantorem celebrat plurima lingua suum, ALternisque sonat numeris praeceperit olim Quidquid amor patriae, quidquid arnica Venus; Sic ubi consurgunt Eblanae mcenia matris, Mcenia formosi marmore tuta sinus, *— - * X. S 37 Atque ubi custodes peragunt duo munera montes, Et mare subjectum spectat utrumque jugum, Et pariter quocunque genus migraverit exul, Sive sit in fluvii littore sive maris, His celebrata locis, hodie fit gloria vati, Quern gens nostra decus deliciasque colit. Nomen in seternum memori pietate fovetur, Musaque mansuros servat ubique sonos, Qua tonat immisso torrentis America lapsu, Quaque Sacramenti flumen inaurat agros.— Ni lux deficiat, cedat nisi gratia morti, Summaque dulcedo desit et omnis odor, Orbis inexhausto Morus recoletur amore.— Musa, lepos, nomen, fama, superstes erit.