Thomas Moore- Collected Poetical Works

by Thomas Moore

  I must here be permitted to interrupt, for a while, the progress of this Journal, — which extends through some months of the succeeding year, — for the purpose of noticing, without infringement of chronological order, such parts of the poet’s literary history and correspondence as belong properly to the date of the year 1813.

  At the beginning, as we have seen, of the month of December, The Bride of Abydos was published, — having been struck off, like its predecessor, The Giaour, in one of those paroxysms of passion and imagination, which adventures such as the poet was now engaged in were, in a temperament like his, calculated to excite. As the mathematician of old required but a spot to stand upon, to be able, as he boasted, to move the world, so a certain degree of foundation in fact seemed necessary to Byron, before that lever which he knew how to apply to the world of the passions could be wielded by him. So small, however, was, in many instances, the connection with reality which satisfied him, that to aim at tracing through his stories these links with his own fate and fortunes, which were, after all, perhaps, visible but to his own fancy, would be a task as uncertain as unsafe; — and this remark applies not only to The Bride of Abydos, but to The Corsair, Lara, and all the other beautiful fictions that followed, in which, though the emotions expressed by the poet may be, in general, regarded as vivid recollections of what had at different times agitated his own bosom, there are but little grounds, — however he might himself, occasionally, encourage such a supposition, — for connecting him personally with the groundwork or incidents of the stories.

  While yet uncertain about the fate of his own new poem, the following observations on the work of an ingenious follower in the same track were written.

  LETTER 143. TO MR. MURRAY.

  “Dec. 4. 1813.

  “I have redde through your Persian Tales, and have taken the liberty of making some remarks on the blank pages. There are many beautiful passages, and an interesting story; and I cannot give you a stronger proof that such is my opinion, than by the date of the hour — two o’clock, till which it has kept me awake without a yawn. The conclusion is not quite correct in costume; there is no Mussulman suicide on record — at least for love. But this matters not. The tale must have been written by some one who has been on the spot, and I wish him, and he deserves, success. Will you apologise to the author for the liberties I have taken with his MS.? Had I been less awake to, and interested in, his theme, I had been less obtrusive; but you know I always take this in good part, and I hope he will. It is difficult to say what will succeed, and still more to pronounce what will not. I am at this moment in that uncertainty (on our own score); and it is no small proof of the author’s powers to be able to charm and fix a mind’s attention on similar subjects and climates in such a predicament. That he may have the same effect upon all his readers is very sincerely the wish, and hardly the doubt, of yours truly, B.”

  To The Bride of Abydos he made additions, in the course of printing, amounting, altogether, to near two hundred lines; and, as usual, among the passages thus added, were some of the happiest and most brilliant in the whole poem. The opening lines,— “Know ye the land,’ &c. — supposed to have been suggested to him by a song of Goëthe’s — were among the number of these new insertions, as were also those fine verses,— “Who hath not proved how feebly words essay,” &c. Of one of the most popular lines in this latter passage, it is not only curious, but instructive, to trace the progress to its present state of finish. Having at first written —

  “Mind on her lip and music in her face,”

  he afterwards altered it to —

  “The mind of music breathing in her face.”

  But, this not satisfying him, the next step of correction brought the line to what it is at present —

  “The mind, the music breathing from her face.”

  But the longest, as well as most splendid, of those passages, with which the perusal of his own strains, during revision, inspired him, was that rich flow of eloquent feeling which follows the couplet,— “Thou, my Zuleika, share and bless my bark,” &c. — a strain of poetry, which, for energy and tenderness of thought, for music of versification, and selectness of diction, has, throughout the greater portion of it, but few rivals in either ancient or modern song. All this passage was sent, in successive scraps, to the printer, — correction following correction, and thought reinforced by thought. We have here, too, another example of that retouching process by which some of his most exquisite effects were attained. Every reader remembers the four beautiful lines —

  “Or, since that hope denied in worlds of strife, Be thou the rainbow to the storms of life! The evening beam that smiles the clouds away, And tints to-morrow with prophetic ray!”

  In the first copy of this passage sent to the publisher, the last line was written thus —

  {an airy} “And tints to-morrow with a {fancied} ray” —

  the following note being annexed:— “Mr. Murray, — Choose which of the two epithets, ‘fancied,’ or ‘airy,’ may be the best; or, if neither will do, tell me, and I will dream another.” The poet’s dream was, it must be owned, lucky,— “prophetic” being the word, of all others, for his purpose.

  I shall select but one more example, from the additions to this poem, as a proof that his eagerness and facility in producing, was sometimes almost equalled by his anxious care in correcting. In the long passage just referred to, the six lines beginning “Blest as the Muezzin’s strain,” &c., having been despatched to the printer too late for insertion, were, by his desire, added in an errata page; the first couplet, in its original form, being as follows: —

  “Soft as the Mecca-Muezzin’s strains invite Him who hath journey’d far to join the rite.”

  In a few hours after, another scrap was sent off, containing the lines thus —

  “Blest as the Muezzin’s strain from Mecca’s dome, Which welcomes Faith to view her Prophet’s tomb” —

  with the following note to Mr. Murray: —

  “December 3. 1813.

  “Look out in the Encyclopedia, article Mecca, whether it is there or at Medina the Prophet is entombed. If at Medina, the first lines of my alterration must run —

  “Blest as the call which from Medina’s dome Invites Devotion to her Prophet’s tomb,” &c.

  If at Mecca, the lines may stand as before. Page 45. canto 2d, Bride of Abydos. Yours, B.

  “You will find this out either by article Mecca, Medina, or Mohammed. I have no book of reference by me.”

  Immediately after succeeded another note: —

  “Did you look out? Is it Medina or Mecca that contains the Holy Sepulchre? Don’t make me blaspheme by your negligence. I have no book of reference, or I would save you the trouble. I blush, as a good Mussulman, to have confused the point.

  “Yours, B.”

  Notwithstanding all these various changes, the couplet in question stands at present thus: —

  “Blest as the Muezzin’s strain from Mecca’s wall To pilgrims pure and prostrate at his call.”

  In addition to his own watchfulness over the birth of his new poem, he also, as will be seen from the following letter, invoked the veteran taste of Mr. Gifford on the occasion: —

  LETTER 144. TO MR. GIFFORD.

  “November 12. 1813.

  “My dear Sir,

  “I hope you will consider, when I venture on any request, that it is the reverse of a certain Dedication, and is addressed, not to ‘The Editor of the Quarterly Review,’ but to Mr. Gifford. You will understand this, and on that point I need trouble you no farther.

  “You have been good enough to look at a thing of mine in MS. — a Turkish story, and I should feel gratified if you would do it the same favour in its probationary state of printing. It was written, I cannot say for amusement, nor ‘obliged by hunger and request of friends,’ but in a state of mind from circumstances which occasionally occur to ‘us youth,’ that rendered it necessary for me to apply my mind to something, any thing but reality; and un
der this not very brilliant inspiration it was composed. Being done, and having at least diverted me from myself, I thought you would not perhaps be offended if Mr. Murray forwarded it to you. He has done so, and to apologise for his doing so a second time is the object of my present letter.

  “I beg you will not send me any answer. I assure you very sincerely I know your time to be occupied, and it is enough, more than enough, if you read; you are not to be bored with the fatigue of answers.

  “A word to Mr. Murray will be sufficient, and send it either to the flames or

  “A hundred hawkers’ load, On wings of wind to fly or fall abroad.

  It deserves no better than the first, as the work of a week, and scribbled ‘stans pede in uno’ (by the by, the only foot I have to stand on); and I promise never to trouble you again under forty Cantos, and a voyage between each. Believe me ever

  “Your obliged and affectionate servant,

  “BYRON.”

  The following letters and notes, addressed to Mr. Murray at this time, cannot fail, I think, to gratify all those to whom the history of the labours of genius is interesting: —

  LETTER 145. TO MR. MURRAY.

  “Nov. 12. 1813.

  “Two friends of mine (Mr. Rogers and Mr. Sharpe) have advised me not to risk at present any single publication separately, for various reasons. As they have not seen the one in question, they can have no bias for or against the merits (if it has any) or the faults of the present subject of our conversation. You say all the last of ‘The Giaour’ are gone — at least out of your hands. Now, if you think of publishing any new edition with the last additions which have not yet been before the reader (I mean distinct from the two-volume publication), we can add ‘The Bride of Abydos,’ which will thus steal quietly into the world: if liked, we can then throw off some copies for the purchasers of former ‘Giaours;’ and, if not, I can omit it in any future publication. What think you? I really am no judge of those things, and with all my natural partiality for one’s own productions, I would rather follow any one’s judgment than my own.

  “P.S. Pray let me have the proofs I sent all to-night. I have some alterations that I have thought of that I wish to make speedily. I hope the proof will be on separate pages, and not all huddled together on a mile-long ballad-singing sheet, as those of The Giaour sometimes are; for then I can’t read them distinctly.”

  TO MR. MURRAY.

  “Nov. 13. 1813.

  “Will you forward the letter to Mr. Gilford with the proof? There is an alteration I may make in Zuleika’s speech, in second Canto (the only one of hers in that Canto). It is now thus:

  “And curse, if I could curse, the day.

  It must be —

  “And mourn — I dare not curse — the day That saw my solitary birth, &c. &c.

  “Ever yours, B.

  “In the last MS. lines sent, instead of ‘living heart,’ convert to ‘quivering heart.’ It is in line ninth of the MS. passage.

  “Ever yours again, B.”

  TO MR. MURRAY.

  “Alteration of a line in Canto second.

  “Instead of —

  “And tints to-morrow with a fancied ray,

  Print —

  “And tints to-morrow with prophetic ray.

  “The evening beam that smiles the clouds away And tints to-morrow with prophetic ray;

  Or,

  {gilds} “And {tints} the hope of morning with its ray;

  Or,

  “And gilds to-morrow’s hope with heavenly ray.

  “I wish you would ask Mr. Gifford which of them is best, or rather not worst. Ever, &c.

  “You can send the request contained in this at the same time with the revise, after I have seen the said revise.”

  TO MR. MURRAY.

  “Nov. 13. 1813.

  “Certainly. Do you suppose that no one but the Galileans are acquainted with Adam, and Eve, and Cain, and Noah? — Surely, I might have had Solomon, and Abraham, and David, and even Moses. When you know that Zuleika is the Persian poetical name for Potiphar’s wife, on whom and Joseph there is a long poem, in the Persian, this will not surprise you. If you want authority, look at Jones, D’Herbelot, Vathek, or the notes to the Arabian Nights; and, if you think it necessary, model this into a note.

  “Alter, in the inscription, ‘the most affectionate respect,’ to ‘with every sentiment of regard and respect.’”

  TO MR. MURRAY.

  “Nov. 14. 1813.

  “I send you a note for the ignorant, but I really wonder at finding you among them. I don’t care one lump of sugar for my poetry; but for my costume and my correctness on those points (of which I think the funeral was a proof), I will combat lustily.

  “Yours,” &c.

  “Nov. 14. 1813.

  “Let the revise which I sent just now (and not the proof in Mr. Gifford’s possession) be returned to the printer, as there are several additional corrections, and two new lines in it. Yours,” &c.

  LETTER 146. TO MR. MURRAY.

  “November 15. 1813.

  “Mr. Hodgson has looked over and stopped, or rather pointed, this revise, which must be the one to print from. He has also made some suggestions, with most of which I have complied, as he has always, for these ten years, been a very sincere, and by no means (at times) flattering intimate of mine. He likes it (you will think fatteringly, in this instance) better than The Giaour, but doubts (and so do I) its being so popular; but, contrary to some others, advises a separate publication. On this we can easily decide. I confess I like the double form better. Hodgson says, it is better versified than any of the others; which is odd, if true, as it has cost me less time (though more hours at a time) than any attempt I ever made.

  “P.S. Do attend to the punctuation: I can’t, for I don’t know a comma — at least where to place one.

  “That Tory of a printer has omitted two lines of the opening, and perhaps more, which were in the MS. Will you, pray, give him a hint of accuracy? I have reinserted the two, but they were in the manuscript, I can swear.”

  LETTER 147. TO MR. MURRAY.

  “November 17. 1813.

  “That you and I may distinctly understand each other on a subject, which, like ‘the dreadful reckoning when men smile no more,’ makes conversation not very pleasant, I think it as well to write a few lines on the topic. — Before I left town for Yorkshire, you said that you were ready and willing to give five hundred guineas for the copyright of ‘The Giaour;’ and my answer was — from which I do not mean to recede — that we would discuss the point at Christmas. The new story may or may not succeed; the probability, under present circumstances, seems to be, that it may at least pay its expenses — but even that remains to be proved, and till it is proved one way or another, we will say nothing about it. Thus then be it: I will postpone all arrangement about it, and The Giaour also, till Easter, 1814; and you shall then, according to your own notions of fairness, make your own offer for the two. At the same time, I do not rate the last in my own estimation at half The Giaour; and according to your own notions of its worth and its success within the time mentioned, be the addition or deduction to or from whatever sum may be your proposal for the first, which has already had its success.

  “The pictures of Phillips I consider as mine, all three; and the one (not the Arnaout) of the two best is much at your service, if you will accept it as a present.

  “P.S. The expense of engraving from the miniature send me in my account, as it was destroyed by my desire; and have the goodness to burn that detestable print from it immediately.

  “To make you some amends for eternally pestering you with alterations, I send you Cobbett to confirm your orthodoxy.

  “One more alteration of a into the in the MS.; it must be— ‘The heart whose softness,’ &c.

  “Remember — and in the inscription, ‘To the Right Honourable Lord Holland,’ without the previous names, Henry,” &c.

  TO MR. MURRAY.

  “November 20. 1813.


  “More work for the Row. I am doing my best to beat ‘The Giaour’ — no difficult task for any one but the author.”

  TO MR. MURRAY.

  “November 22. 1813.

  “I have no time to cross-investigate, but I believe and hope all is right. I care less than you will believe about its success, but I can’t survive a single misprint: it chokes me to see words misused by the printers. Pray look over, in case of some eyesore escaping me.

  “P.S. Send the earliest copies to Mr. Frere, Mr. Canning, Mr. Heber, Mr. Gifford, Lord Holland, Lord Melbourne (Whitehall), Lady Caroline Lamb, (Brocket), Mr. Hodgson (Cambridge), Mr. Merivale, Mr. Ward, from the author.”

  TO MR. MURRAY.

  “November 23. 1813.

  “You wanted some reflections, and I send you per Selim (see his speech in Canto 2d, page 46.), eighteen lines in decent couplets, of a pensive, if not an ethical tendency. One more revise — positively the last, if decently done — at any rate the penultimate. Mr. Canning’s approbation (if he did approve) I need not say makes me proud. As to printing, print as you will and how you will — by itself, if you like; but let me have a few copies in sheets.

  “November 24. 1813.

  “You must pardon me once more, as it is all for your good: it must be thus —

  “He makes a solitude, and calls it peace.