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The only poem in the volume which wel I think how grand and beautiful is God, do not like is one on the battle of Busaco,

When man has not intruded on his works,

But left his bright creation unimpaired, which seems to have been a college exer 'Twas therefore I approached thee with an awe cise. To this Mr. Russell has not fixed a Delightful.--therefore eyed, with joy grotesque date, but from internal evidence we are in With joy I could not speak; (for, on this beart clined to think it could not have been

Has beauteous Nature seldom siniled. and scarce

A casual wind has blown the veil aside, written in the full maturity of Wolfe's

And shown me her immortal lineaments) powers. The battle was fought on the 27th 'Twas therefore did my heart expand, io mark of September, 1810, and we think it likely

Thy pensive uniformity of glooin,

The deep and holy darkness of thy wave, that Wolfe's poem was written soon after

And thai stern rocky form, whose aspect stood at least it was at that period very much Athwart us, and confronted us at once, the practice in Dublin College to give Seeming 10 vindicale the worship due, the victories of Wellington such chance of

And yet reclined in proud recumbency,

As if secure the homage would be paid : immortality, as prize poems in Greek, Eng.

It looked the Genius of lhe place, and seemed lish, and Latin could give-and it went a To Superstition's eye, to exercise great way to make Tories of the young Some sacred, unknown function. Blessed scenes!

Fraught with the primeval grandeur ! or, il aught poets, though we are quite sure that the

Is changed in thee it is no morial touch seven wise men of Dublin College had not

Thal sharpened thy rough brow, or fringed thy any thought of this advantage gained for skirts Church and State. Wolfe's Busaco is not! With coarse luxuriance:'was the lightning's

force good. “Patriotism" is a poem of exceed

Dash'd ils strong flash across thee, and did point ing beauty. We are surprised that this The crag; or, with his stormy thunderbolt, and “ Jurgurtha” have not found their way Th' Almighty architect hinself disjoined into the popular selections.

Yon rock; then fang il down where now it hangs,

And said, 'do thou lie there ;'--and genial rains, Wolfe about this time (1815) thought of

(Which, e'en without the good man's prayer, came reading for a college fellowship. The fel. down) lowships in Dublin College are given to the

Call'd forth thy vegetation. Then I watch'd

The clouds that cours'd along the sky, to which best answerers at a public examination in a

A trembling splendor o'er the walers mov'd very extensive course of science--the pre Responsive; while at times it stole to land, paration for which is sufficient to occupy a And smil'd among the mountain's dusky locks. clever man's attention for several years.

Surely there linger beings in this place.

For whom all this is done :-it cannot be, Wolfe's habits of study were desultory

That all this fair profusion is bestow'd his talents for poetry and general literature For such wild wayward pilgrims as ourselves. were likely to mislead him-and while his Haply, some glorious spirits here await success could not be doubtful if diligence

The opening of Heaven's portals; who disport

Along the bosom of the lucid lake; could be reckoned on, yet it was quite un

Who cluster on that peak; or playsul peep certain whether Wolfe could be got to at. Into yon eagle's nest; then sit ihem down tend with perseverance to a prescribed

And ialk of those they left on earth, and those course of study for any long time. At all

Whom they shall meet in Heaven: and, haply,

tired events the trial was not made. One or two (If blessed spirits tire in such employ.) visits to friends in the counties of Dublin The slumbering phantoms lay them down to rest and Wicklow seem to have dispersed the

Upon the bosom of the dewy breeze

Ah! whilher do I roam-1 dare not ihinkdream. The contrast between the domestic

Alas! I must forget thee, for I go happiness which he saw enjoyed by the To mix with narrow minds and hollow heartsfriends with whom he was on those visits 1 must forget thee-sare thee-fare thee well." and excursions, and the dulness of his col. lege rooms, appears to bave completely put

“ The following stanzas,” says Mr. Rusan end to any chance of his contentedly sell, “will convey some idea of the sensa. fixing himself down to the necessary plan's tions with which the poet returned from of study. There was little chance of fel. / such scenes as this to the sombre walls of lowship-reading for a man who, when he a college, and how painfully he felt the returned to his rooms from his country ex-transition from such enjoyments, to the cursions, was engaged in describing the grave occupation of academic studies. scenes he had left in verses such as the

SONG. following:

"Oh say not that my heart is cold FAREWELL TO LOUGH BRAY.

Toaught that once could warm it; " Then fare thee well !-I leave thy rocks and glens.' That Nature's form so dear of old And all thy wild and random majesty,

No more lias power to charm it ; To plunge amid the world's deformities,

Or, that the ungenerous world can chill
And see how hideously mankind deface

One glow of fond emotion
What God hath given them good ;-while viewing For those who made it dearer still,

And shar'd my wild devotion.

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“ Srill of those solen.n scenes I view

time he heard it played by a friend, that he imIn rapt and dreamy sadness; On look on those who lov'd them too

mediately commenced singing it over and over With Fancy's idle gladness;

again, until he produced an English song admiAgain I long d to view the light

rably suited to the tune. The air, which has the I.. Nainre's features glowing ;

character of an animated march, opens in a Again to tread the mountain's height,

strain of grandeur, and suddenly subsides for a And taste the Soul's o'erflowing:

few bars into a slow and pathetic modulation,

from which it abruptly starts again into all the "Stern dnty rose, and f owning flung

enthusiasm of martial spirit. The words are His leaden chain aronnd me;

happily adapted to these transitions; but the air With iron look and sullen tongue

should be known, in order that the merits of the He muttered as he bound me :

song should be duly esteemed. The first change The mountain-brecze, the boundless Heaven

in the expression of the air occurs at the ninth Unfit for toil the creature;

line of the song, and continues to the end of the These for the free alone are given

twentieth line. But what have slaves with Nature ?'There is a poem, of which many of the

SPANISH SONG. stanzas have all the vigor of Burns-and

AIR— Viva El Rey Fernando.' which are so perfectly descriptive of the The chains of Spain are breakingfriend whose character inspired them

Let Gaul despair and fly ; George Grierson of the Irish bar—that we

Her wrathful trumpet's speaking, wish we could transcribe them, but must

Let tyrants hear and die. refer our readers to the volume itself.

Her standard o'er us arching Mr. Russell, in describing Wolfe's ad. Is burning red and far; miration of Campbell's Hohenlinden, men The soul of Spain is marching tions some peculiarities of his manner,

In thunders to the war.

Look round your lovely Spain, which we may as well preserve.

And say shall Gaul remain ? * It was, indeed, the peculiar temperament of his mind, to display its emotions by the strongest

Behold yon burning valley, outward demonstrations.

Behold yon naked plain

Let us hear their drum+ Such were his intellectaal sensibilities, and

Let them come, let them come! the corresponding vivacity of his animal spirits,

For Vengeance and Freedom rally, that the excitation of his feelings generally dis And Spaniards ! onward for Spain ! covered itself by the most lively expressions, and sometimes by an unrestrained vehemence of

Remember, Remember, Barossa, gesticulation, which often afforded amusement

Remember Napoleon's chain. to his more sedate or less impressible acquaint Remember your own Saragossa, ances.

And strike for the cause of Spain-- Whenever in the company of his friends any Remember your own Saragossa, thing occurred in his reading, or to his memory, And onward, onward! for Spain ! which powerfully affected his imagination, he

I “Another of his favorite melodies was the usually started from his seat, flung aside his

popular Irish air, Gramachree.' He never chair, and paced about the room, giving vent to

heard it without being sensibly affected by its his admiration in repeated exclamations of de

| deep and tender expression ; but he thought light, and in gestures of the most animated rapture. Nothing produced these emotions more

that no words had ever been written for it which

came up to his idea of the peculiar pathos which strongly than music, of the pleasures of which

| pervades the whole strain. He said they all he was in the highest degree susceptible. He

Tappeared to him want individuality of feeling. had an ear formed to enjoy, in the most exquisite

At the desire of a friend he gave his own conmanner, the simplest melody, or the richest

ception of it in these verses, which it seems hard harmony. With but little cultivation, he had acquired sufficient skill in the theory of this ac

to read, perhaps impossible to hear sung, with

out tears. complishment, to relish its highest charms, and to exercise a discriminative taste in the appre

SONG. ciation of any composition or performance in that delightful art. Sacred music above all, (es

AIR–Gramachree.' pecially the compositions of Handel,) had the If I had thought thou could'st have died, most subduing--the most transporting effect I might not weep for thee; upon his feelings, and seemed to enliven and But I forgot, when by thy side, sublimate his devotion to the highest pitch. He

That thou could'st mortal be; understood and sell all the poetry of inusic, and

It never through my mind had past,

The time would e'er be o'er, was particularly felicitous in catching the spirit

And I on thee should look my last, and character of a simple air or a national melo

And thou should'st smile no more ! dy. One or two specimens of the adaptation of his poetical talents to such subjects, may give

And still upon that face I look, some idea of this.

And think 'r will smile again ; “He was so much struck by the grand nation And still the thought I will not brook, al Spanish air, 'Viva el Rey Fernando,' the first! That I must look in vain!

But when I speak-thou dost not say, |and Medwin, in one way or other, was led What thon ne'er left'st unsaid,

to think them Byron's. The copy sent by And now I feel, as well I may, Sweet Mary! thou art dead!

Byron to his sister, in his own handwriting,

seemed at first to Captain Medwin to give If thou would'st stay, e'en as thou art, a kind of confirmation to a conjecture, All cold and all serene,

which, however, in every after edition of I still might press thy silent heart, And where thy smiles have been !

his exceedingly interesting book, he took While e'en thy chill bleak corse I have,

care to tell his readers was a mistake-addThou seemest still my own,

ing that the poem was ascertained to be But there I lay thee in thy grave

Wolfe's. Medwin's claim of the poem for And I am now alone!

Byron led to several letters, stating the true I do not think, where'er thou art,

author; one from Mr. Taylor, of the English Thou hast forgotten me;

bar, which first gave to the public a subAnd I, perhaps, may sooth this heart,

stantially correct copy of the lines ; another In thinking too of thee; Yet there was round thee such a dawn

from Dr. Miller, of Armagh, in which Or light ne'er seen before,

Wolfe's character is strikingly drawn : but As fancy never could have drawn,

by far the most interesting document which And never can restore !

the occasion called forth was the Rev. Ms. “He was asked whether he had any real in- | O'Sullivan's narrative of the original procident in view, or had witnessed any immediate duction of the poem. We transcribe his occurrence which might have prompted these

account from a letter of his to Mr. Taylorlines. His reply was, he had not; but that he had sung the air over and over till he burst into

“The poem was commenced in my company. a flood of tears, in which mood he composed the T'he occasion was as follows:-Wolfe came into words."

my room one evening while I was reading the The following is, in its way, of almost

· Edinburgh Annual Register. I think it was

the volume for 1809,* and which concluded with unequalled beauty :

an account of the battle of Corunna, and the “ SONG.

death of Sir John Moore. It appeared to me to

be admirably written and although the writer Oh, my love has an eye of the softest blue,

might not be classed amongst the very warmest Yet it was not that that won me; But a little bright drop from her soul was there,

admirers of that lamented general, yet he cor'Tis that that has undone me.

dially appreciated his many great and amiable

qualities, and eagerly seized upon every opporI might have pass'd that lovely cheek,

tunity of doing him generous and ample justice. Nor, perchance, my heart have left me; In college we do not always lay down our books But the sensitive blush that came trembling there, when visited by our friends; at least, you know, Of my heart it for ever bereft me.

to your cost, that such is not my practice. I

made our dear departed friend listen to me I might have forgotten that red, red lip

while I read the account which the admirable Yet how from that thought to sever ?

writer (I conjectured that he must be Mr. Southey) But there was a smile from the sunshine within

made to assume a classical interest; and we both And that smile I'll remember for ever.

felt kindled and elevated by a recital which was Think not 'tis nothing but lifeless clay,

caculated to concentrate whatever of glory or The elegant form that haunts me;

interest attached in our young imaginations to 'Tis the gracefully delicate mind that moves

Chæronea or Marathon, upon the spotless valor In every step, that enchants me.

of a British soldier. When I had done, Wolfe

and I walked into the country; and I observed Let me not hear the nightingale sing,

that he was totally inattentive to the objects Though I once in its notes delighted; The feeling and mind that comes whispering forth,

*" It was the volume for 1808. The following is Has left me no music beside it.

the conclusion of the passagc to which Mr. O'Sulli

van alludes: Who could blame had I loved that face,

" Sir John Moore had often said, that if he was Ere my eye could twice explore her;

killed in baulle, he wished to be buried where he fell. Yet, it is for the fairy intelligence there,

The body was removed at midnight to the citadel of And her warm-warm heart I adore her." Coronna. A grave was dug for him on the ramWe are inclined to think the “Lines on

part there, by a body of the 9th regiment; the aides

du-camp attending by turns. No coffin could be the Burial of Sir John Moore" was the last procured; and the officers of his siaff wrapped the poem that Wolfe ever wrote. They were body, dressed as it was, in a military cloak and first circulated in manuscript among his

among his blankets. The interment was hastened; for about

eight in the morning, some firing was heard, and the college friends, then printed in the newspa- officers feared that if a serious attack was made, pers and magazines. Byron read them out they should be ordered away, and not suffered to pay from a magazine to some friends, of whom bim their last duty. The officers of his family bore Captain Medwin was one. At this time the line

him to the grave; the funeral service was read by

the chaplain; and the corpse was covered with author's name was not known to the public, I earth.' - Edinburgh Annual Register, 1808, p. 458. around him, and in conversation absent and self-l ing written the poem, it was claimed, in involved. He was, in fact, silently composing; some unintelligible local hoax, as the and, in a short time, he repeated for me (without production of rhyming horsedoctor in them down) the first and last stanzas of his beautiful ode, which as you have truly stated in

Durham. The letter, written in his name the morning Chronicle, were all that he at first, by some provincial jester, claiming it for intended. I was exceedingly pleased by them; bim, was copied into the papers, and the and I believe the admiration I expressed partly laurels which Medwin demanded for Byron, induced him to supply the other stanzas. Every were now for a while awarded to Marshal one of the corrections which you have suggested that was, as we best remember, the name. is right. Your memory has served you admi- LA

| A more respectable parentage was soon rably to restore the ode to the state in which it.

after found, and gave rise to a conjecture was left by its lamented author.”

which many thought probable enough. A It seems impossible that any mind could volume of poems was printed by a young be uncandid or dull enough to resist such clergyman of the name of Barnard, who evidence as this: yet though, in addition soon after died of consumption. A friend to this evidence, Archdeacon Russell printed of ours claiming the authorship of the poem the poem in his remains as Wolfe's, the old for Wolfe, was told, under circumstances reports ascribing its authorship to one or that coerced his belief-so strongly was other of the popular poets of the day, or to the matter stated, and by a person whose some obscure village minstrel, were every means of knowledge were of a peculiar now and then repeated. Unluckily, in Mr. kind that the poem was printed in BarRussell's memoir of Wolfe, after stating nard's book; his informant, of course, assome of the absurd reports concerning the serting that Barnard was the author-not authorship of the poem, the following care. Wolfe. The facts appeared to our friend lessly written sentence occurred :—"How-to be indisputable, and a theory instantly ever, the matter has been placed beyond started up in his mind, which reconciled dispute, by the proof that it appeared with them with the fact of Wolfe's authorship the initials C. W.' in an Irish print, long of the poem. The conversation occurred prior to the alleged dates which its false after Wolfe's death, just at the period of claimants assign.” A sentence is at Medwin's publication, and the account of least as likely to be carelessly read as care. Barnard's early death, and some other colessly written; and it was supposed from inciding circumstances, led him to the con. this that Mr. Russell knew no more about clusion that Wolfe had published a volume the matter than any body else, and that the of poems under the assumed name of Barwhole of the evidence rested on the fact nard. We have had more than one arguof some Irish paper having printed, at ment with our friend on the subject, knowsome time not stated by Mr. Russell, the ing that it was almost impossible that Wolfe, lines, with the letters C. W.;' and we, all whose movements were known to his who happen to know of our own knowledge friends, could have been the author of the the fact of Wolfe's being the author of poems; while we felt that it would gratify the lines, happen also to know of our own our curiosity to learn more of Barnard's knowledge, that men of the very highest book, and we had inquiries made of the pubrank in literature fell into what we cannot lisher. The little book, a pamphlet of fortybut think the very natural mistake which eight pages, is now on our table—“ Trifles, we have pointed out. Other passages in imitative of the chaster style of Melanger." Mr. Russell's memoir ought to have placed Graceful imitations they are,not translathe matter beyond all doubt ; but in his tions, nor in any degree approaching that narration of the matter, it is not easy to character: not equal to Merivale's poems distinguish what is evidence and what is from the Anthology, or even to Bland's, but argument. Mr. Russell, like ourselves, or still very pleasing in their way; and we are any other of Wolfe's friends, would as soon glad of the accident that introduced us to think of doubting the authorship of Mar- the pleasant little book; but unfortunately mion or any other acknowledged. work of the sight of it at once put an end to the roany well-known writer as that of this poem; mance which our friend had woven out of yet we cannot but think that the mixture of the publication, and the fates of Barnard argument and evidence, the boundary lines and Wolfe. The poem which, to the gifted of which are not very distinctly marked in eye of the printer and bookseller, whose his account, tended somewhat to perplex a claim of Wolfe's ode for Barnard, led to case which was the simplest in the world. the confusion, had appeared to be “The While the friends of Wolfe were one after Burial of Sir John Moore," turns out to be another stating their knowledge of his hav- "Verses occasioned by the death of Captain --- 9th regiment of dragoons, who felli “Dr. Anster, on the part of Dr. Luby, F.T.C.D., in the battle of Waterloo !!" Captain read a letter of the late Rev. Charles Wolfe, author - of the dragoons became identified of the lines on the burial of Sir John Moore. The with Sir John Moore, and Corunna and Walletter, or rather fragment of a letter, had been found

| by Dr. Luby among the papers of a deceased bro. terloo were all one. In mistakes like this, in

like this, ther, who was a college friend of Wolfe and of Mr. or in the buffoonery of provincial jests, we Taylor, to whom the letter was addressed. The are convinced that all the claims to this part found had the appearance of having been torn poem originated, with the exception of one, off from the rest of the letter. It contains the ad. 60 peculiar that we feel it necessary reluc- dress; a complete copy of the ode; a sentence tantly to notice it.

mentioning to Mr. Taylor that his praise of the In the Edinburgh Advertiser, a letter dated

stanzas first written led hiin to complete the poem ;

a few words of a private nature at the end of the Temple, January, 1841, signed A. Mackin-lie

| letter; and the signature. There is no date on tosh, and addressed to the Rev. W. Muir,

the part preserved ; but the post mark of Septemassistant minister of Temple, accompaniedber 6, 1816, fixes the time at which it was sent. with documents of one kind or other, by Dr. Anster read passages from Captain Medwin's which the statements of the letter were Conversations of Lord Byron,' and Archdeacon sought to be confirmed, was printed. The

Russell's • Remains of Wolfe,' in which inention

is made of the various guesses as to the author, writer of the letter, the master of the parish

when the poem first appeared, without the author's school at Temple, states himself to have

els to have name, in the newspapers and magazines. It was written the poem, and goes into a very mi- said Dr. Anster aliributed to Moore, to Campbell, nute detail of circumstances connected with to Wilson, to Byron, and now and then to a writer his claim. Mr. Muir manifestly gave entire in inany respects equal to the highest of these credence to Mackintosh's statement, and names, whose poems have been published under the editor of the Edinburgh Advertiser gave

the name of Barry Cornwail, Shelly thought the it also his sanction. This led to the pub

poem likely to be Campbell's; and Medwin believed

pub Byron to be the author. When Medwin's book lication of several letters on the subject,

in the subject, appeared, in which this was stated, several friends all from persons of considerable eminence, of Wolfe's, among others Mr. Taylor, to whom who knew the fact of Wolfe's being the au- was addressed the letter, of which an important thor of the poem. Mackintosh published part has been fortunately found, stated their know. an impudent letter, admitting that Wolfe ledge of Wolfe's having wrilten the ode. One must have claimed the poem, but still as. gratifying result of the controversy was the public serting himself to be the writer. He was

cation by Archdeacon Russell of the remains of

| Charles Wolfe, with a memoir written with great unlucky enough to assign a date to the pe-| beauty, and, what constitutes the rare charm of the riod at which he composed it; and though work, describing with entire fidelity the character, the precise date of Wolse's poem is not as- and habits, and feelings, of one of the most pure certained, yet it is ascertained that it was minded, generous, and affectionate natures that written prior to the date which Mackintosh ever existed. The question as to the authorship chose to lay for his bandiwork. While the of the ode was for ever set at rest, to any one who discussion about Mackintosh's claim was

had seen either the letters of Mr. Wolfe's friends,

at the time of Captain Medwin's publication, or going on in the newspapers, Dr. Luby luck.

Archdeacon Russell's book. Were ihere any doubt ily found a letter of Wolfe's, giving a com on the subject of authorship, the document now plete copy of the lines in Wolfe's hand produced would completely remove it ; but for this writing. The overwhelming evidence that purpose it would really not be worth while to troufrom one quarter or another exposed the ble the academy with the communication, as it iminudence of Mackintosh's pretensione led would be treating the insane pretensions now and Mr. Muir, who had at first been imposed on

then put forward in the newspapers for this person

or the other, with too much respect to discuss them by him, to re-examine the plausible school.

seriously, or at all; but another and a very impormaster, and he succeeded in extorting from tant purpose would be answered by the publication him a confession that his statement was “al of this authentic copy of the poem from Wolfe's lie from end to end." In Wolfe's letter, the autograph in their proceedings. The poem has copy of the poem is introduced by the fol. been more frequently reprinted than almost any lowing words :—"I have completed The

consequence of such frequent reprints, it is now Burial of Sir John Moore," and will here

seldom printed as it was originally written. Every inflict it upon you; you have no one but

person who had occasion to compare the common yourself to blaine, for praising the two editions of Milton, or Cowper, or any of our poets, stanzas that I told you so much." We with those printed in the lifetime of the authors, is transcribe from the proceedings of the aware that no dependence whatever can be placed Ronal Irish Academy the following inte on the text of the books in common use. Every resting particulars concerning the letter,

successive reprint from a volume, carelessly edited,

| adds its own stock of blunders to the general mass. which must for ever put an end to any con- Wolfers

any cou. Wolfe's ode has been in this way, quite spoiled in troversy on the subject of the authorship: 1 many of its best passages. The acadeiny bad now

neces

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