Moral Positions. A Dream.

"His Lordship said that it took a long time for a moral position to find its way across the Atlantic. He was very sorry that its voyage had been so long," etc.--Speech of Lord Dudley and Ward on Colonial Slavery, March 8.

T'other night, after hearing Lord Dudley's oration
(A treat that comes once a year as May-day does),
I dreamt that I saw--what a strange operation!
A "moral position" shipt off for Barbadoes.

The whole Bench of Bishops stood by in grave attitudes,
Packing the article tidy and neat;--
As their Reverences know that in southerly latitudes
"Moral positions" don't keep very sweet.

There was Bathurst arranging the custom-house pass;
And to guard the frail package from tousing and routing,
There stood my Lord Eldon, endorsing it "Glass,"
Tho' as to which side should lie uppermost, doubting.
The freight was however stowed safe in the hold;
The winds were polite and the moon lookt romantic,
While off in the good ship "The Truth" we were rolled,
With our ethical cargo, across the Atlantic.
Long, dolefully long, seemed the voyage we made;
For "The Truth," at all times but a very slow sailer,
By friends, near as much as by foes, is delayed,
And few come aboard her tho' so many hail her.

At length, safe arrived, I went thro' "tare and tret,"
Delivered my goods in the primest condition.
And next morning read in the Bridge-town Gazette,
"Just arrived by 'The Truth,' a new moral position.

"The Captain"--here, startled to find myself named
As "the Captain"--(a thing which, I own it with pain,
I thro' life have avoided,) I woke--lookt ashamed,
Found I wasn't a captain and dozed off again.

Thomas Moore

Thomas Moore was an Irish poet, singer, and songwriter, celebrated for his Irish Melodies, which are now considered a staple of Irish cultural heritage. Born on May 28, 1779, in Dublin, Ireland, Moore gained fame for his lyrical songs, many of which were set to traditional Irish tunes. Not only a poet, but he was also a staunch advocate of Irish nationalism, often incorporating themes of national identity and resistance into his work. Moore's influential collection 'Irish Melodies' became popular in both Ireland and Britain and helped to define the literary output of the era. He passed away on February 25, 1852, but his legacy in Irish literature and music endures.

Thomas Moore

Rhymes On The Road. Extract III. Geneva.

Thomas Moore, Simple Poetry

The Fudges In England. Letter I. From Patrick Magan, Esq., To The Rev. Richard ----; Curate Of ----, In Ireland.

Thomas Moore, Simple Poetry

Thoughts On The Late Destructive Propositions Of The Tories.[1] By A Common-Councilman.

Thomas Moore, Simple Poetry

Odes Of Anacreon - Ode IX.

Thomas Moore, Simple Poetry

English

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A Vision. By The Author Of "Christabel."

"Up!" said the Spirit and ere I could pray
One hasty orison, whirled me away
To a Limbo, lying--I wist not where--
Above or below, in earth or air;
For it glimmered o'er with a doubtful light,
One couldn't say whether 'twas day or night;
And 'twas crost by many a mazy track,
One didn't know how to get on or back;
And I felt like a needle that's going astray
(With its one eye out) thro' a bundle of hay;
When the Spirit he grinned, and whispered me,
"Thou'rt now in the Court of Chancery!"

Around me flitted unnumbered swarms
Of shapeless, bodiless, tailless forms;
(Like bottled-up babes that grace the room
Of that worthy knight, Sir Everard Home)--
All of them, things half-killed in rearing;
Some were lame--some wanted hearing;

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A Dream Of Turtle.

BY SIR W. CURTIS.

1826.


'Twas evening time, in the twilight sweet
I sailed along, when--whom should I meet
But a Turtle journeying o'er the sea,
"On the service of his Majesty."^[1]
When spying him first thro' twilight dim,
I didn't know what to make of him;
But said to myself, as slow he plied
His fins and rolled from side to side
Conceitedly o'er the watery path--
"'Tis my Lord of Stowell taking a bath,
"And I hear him now, among the fishes,
"Quoting Vatel and Burgersdicius!"
But, no--'twas, indeed, a Turtle wide
And plump as ever these eyes descried;
A turtle juicy as ever yet
Glued up the lips of a Baronet!
And much did it grieve my soul to see
That an animal of such dignity,
Like an absentee abroad should ro...

Thomas Moore

The Insurrection Of The Papers. A Dream.

        "It would be impossible for his Royal Highness to disengage his person from the accumulating pile of papers that encompassed it."
        --Lord CASTLEREAGH'S Speech upon Colonel M Mahon's Appointment,
        April 14, 1812.


Last night I tost and turned in bed,
But could not sleep--at length I said,
"I'll think of Viscount Castlereagh,
"And of his speeches--that's the way."
And so it was, for instantly
I slept as sound as sound could be.
And then I dreamt--so dread a dream!
Fuseli has no such theme;
Lewis never wrote or borrowed
Any horror half so horrid!

Methought the Prince in whiskered state
Before me at his breakfast sate;
On one side lay unread Petitions,
On t'other, Hints from five Physicians!
Here tradesmen'...

Thomas Moore

Thoughts On The Late Destructive Propositions Of The Tories.[1] By A Common-Councilman.

I sat me down in my easy chair,
    To read, as usual, the morning papers;
But--who shall describe my look of despair,
    When I came to Lefroy's "destructive" capers!
That he--that, of all live men, Lefroy
Should join in the cry "Destroy, destroy!"
Who, even when a babe, as I've heard said,
On Orange conserve was chiefly fed,
And never, till now, a movement made
That wasnt manfully retrograde!
Only think--to sweep from the light of day
Mayors, maces, criers and wigs away;
To annihilate--never to rise again--
A whole generation of aldermen,
Nor leave them even the accustomed tolls,
To keep together their bodies and souls!--
At a time too when snug posts and places
    Are falling away from us one by one,
Crash--crash--like the mummy-cases

Thomas Moore

Fools' Paradise. Dream The First.

I have been, like Puck, I have been, in a trice,
To a realm they call Fool's Paradise,
Lying N.N.E. of the Land of Sense,
And seldom blest with a glimmer thence.
But they wanted not in this happy place,
Where a light of its own gilds every face;
Or if some wear a shadowy brow,
'Tis the wish to look wise,--not knowing how.
Self-glory glistens o'er all that's there,
The trees, the flowers have a jaunty air;
The well-bred wind in a whisper blows,
The snow, if it snows, is couleur de rose,
The falling founts in a titter fall,
And the sun looks simpering down on all.

Oh, 'tisn't in tongue or pen to trace
The scenes I saw in that joyous place.
There were Lords and Ladies sitting together,
In converse sweet, "What charming weather!--

Thomas Moore

To The Ship In Which Lord Castlereagh Sailed For The Continent.

Imitated from Horace, lib. i, ode 3.


So may my Lady's prayers prevail,
    And Canning's too, and lucid Bragge's,
And Eldon beg a favoring gale
    From Eolus, that older Bags,
To speed thee on thy destined way,
Oh ship, that bearest our Castlereagh,
Our gracious Regent's better half
    And therefore quarter of a King--
(As Van or any other calf
    May find without much figuring).
Waft him, oh ye kindly breezes,
    Waft this Lord of place and pelf,
Any where his Lordship pleases,
    Tho' 'twere to Old Nick himself!

Oh, what a face of brass was his.
Who first at Congress showed his phiz--
To sign away the Rights of Man
    To Russian threats and Austrian juggle;
And leave the sinking African
...

Thomas Moore