The lyrics of Ireland

Preface

A general collection of Irish Lyrics, carefully selected, affording the best specimens of various authors, and in various styles, has been a long-existing want in the library, and that it has been so, is presumptive evidence of the task of producing such a work being difficult.

I felt this when first invited to become Editor of such a collection, and it was only repeated requests, after some lapse of time, and arguments which my love of country could not resist, that overcame my reluctance to engage in editorial duty — a duty quite new to me — and if I have failed in it, I can plead in extenuation that I did not rush into the difficulty presumptuously ; and I can add, with equal truth, that having undertaken what the judgment of others entrusted me with, I have made every endeavour to discharge the onerous duties of my post becomingly. Having said thus much in mitigation of any editorial errors whereof I may be guilty, I will offer a few remarks upon the subject-matter of this book.

Two volumes of national songs have, at short intervals, preceded this — a book of English and a book of Scotch songs, and with these this volume must come into immediate comparison. That comparison, I think, must prove singularly honourable to Ireland, if the disadvantageous circumstances be considered under which she appears in literary competition with the other portions of the united kingdom: — to those whose judgment may not award her a high place, the consideration I solicit will afford sufficient cause for the supposed inferiority, while, if the

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judgment be on the other hand, it will conduce the more to her honour. I will ask it, then, to be remembered, going no further back than the time of Elizabeth, that England, in the fulness of prosperity, had her Shakspeare, Spenser, Sidney, Bacon, and many others, great in letters ; while in Ireland, at the same time, the English language was a stranger-tongue outside the pale, the country yet un conquered, and undergoing the horrors of war. At this very period, Spenser, an eye-witness of those horrors, deprecating the charge of inefficiency made against the English clergy in Ireland, uses these memorable words — u It is ill time to preach among swords .” If it was an ill time to preach, it was also an ill time for literary culture, and a sufficient reason why Ireland cannot be expected to compete with England in literary honours. So far from expecting this, we may rather wonder that Ireland, in an interim far from peaceful, should have done so much, more particularly in a language which she had yet to learn.

With respect to Scotland, her literature, in general, has done her the highest honour ; as for her songs, a large amount are of the first mark ; but Scotland has been more favourably circumstanced for literary pursuits than Ireland. She has not suffered the penalties of political strife so heavily, nor so recently ; she has not been shaken by internal convulsion for the last century; while in Ireland, within about half the period,

ra^ed a rebellion that drenched her in blood, since which she ©

has had many a political throe : in fact, it is not quite thirty years since that large question, Catholic Emancipation, which kept her so long disturbed, was settled. Such a state of things made fiery orators, and produced the fierce outpouring of political invective in prose and verse, mingled with the wild wail of national grief, or the sudden burst of pent-up gall that sense of wrong and hope deferred engender; but, for the sweeter flowers of poesy, there was small chance of their spring-

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Y ing in so uncongenial a soil ; and even in the vindicative verse of that time of strife there was not much merit ; the shafts that flew fast and thick, from both sides, were unpolished : — but that mattered not; — they were meant less to dazzle than to wound.

It was not until 1807 that the lyric muse of Ireland might spread her wing in a somewhat calmer atmosphere ; and sing of gentler themes ; and then appeared that work, not only the crowning wreath of its author, but among the glories of the land that gave him birth — I need scarcely say I mean “ Moore’s Irish Melodies.” To the finest national music in the world he wrote the finest lyrics ; and if Ireland never produced, nor should ever produce, another lyric poet, sufficient for her glory is the name of Thomas Moore.

Why, then, fear to meet any poetic rivals in the field ? Why the deprecatory tone in which I commence my preface ? Because the songs of Moore are not at my command. If they were, such a book of the collected lyrics of Ireland might be made as could scarcely be matched, — certainly not excelled, — but the strictness with which the proprietors of Moore’s works guard the copyright — a strictness that cannot in the least be blamed however much it may be lamented in the present case — forbids me the use of those exquisite lyrics ; and yet, even without these, I hope this volume will be considered honourable to the lyric genius of Ireland. How much would not a collection of Scottish Songs suffer, wanting the lays of Burns : what, then, must not an Irish collection lose in wanting Moore’s ? Ireland thus competes with England and Scotland at the greatest disadvantage : — her battle is like that of the Greeks without Achilles.

As to the arrangement of the following collection, I felt bound to follow that of the two preceding volumes in the series, which classes the songs under different heads, and this created

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a difficulty in my editorial task, though no such difficulty existed in compiling the former volumes, with ample stores to select from ; but even this difficulty in my “ labour of love’3’ — (for such the editing of this book became, after my being some time engaged in it) — had its reward; for, in distributing the contents into sections, I found a remarkable and rather interesting coincidence between the Scottish Songs and the Irish, in three particulars, — namely : that while in the Book of English Songs there are distinct sections for pastoral and rural, sea, and sporting songs, there are no such sections in the Book of Scottish Songs; nor in this did such a section become necessary. So remarkable a coincidence suggested some mental inquiry as to the cause ; for, Scotland and Ireland being both pastoral countries, why this absence of pastoral songs ? I then found that many of the pastoral songs of England arose out of a fashion that sprung up, at one period in that country, in Literature and in the Fine Arts, to affect the rural ; — when city gallants made love under the name of Corydon and Amintor to their Sylvias and Daphnes ; kings and queens were represented on canvass as Endymions and Dianas; while dukes and duchesses took the humbler forms of shepherds and shepherdesses. This was unreal ruralism, whereas the pastoral feeling of both Scotland and Ireland was genuine, and is manifested not ostentatiously, but accidentally and naturally, as may befit or illustrate the subject of the lyric; and, as regards the Songs of Ireland, it may be observed that mere allusion is often made to pastoral pursuits ; and that images derived from nature are more frequent in the songs translated from the native tongue.

Why Sporting Songs do not so much abound in Scottish and Irish composition was not so easily accounted for, as the Celts of old passionately loved the chase — a love as passionately inherited by their descendants ; and yet wo do not find the

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YU chase specially treated as a theme by the Celtic lyrist. Like the pastoral lays before alluded to, songs of the chase have been cultivated, in England, as a peculiar style of composition, while in the lyrics of Scotland and Ireland the love of the chase only appears incidentally. Again, I asked myself, 64 why is this ?” And memory gave me the answer, by calling up before me that charming scene in the Lady of the Lake, where Douglas, on meeting his daughter, who had been anxiously awaiting his return, accounts for his absence by saying —

“ My child, the chase I follow’d far; —

’Tis mimicry of noble war.”

And this, I think, is the answer to the question. The Celt looked upon the chase as but the mimicry of war — and as he had the real article but too often on his hands, he did not care much about the bardic celebration of the mimicry.

With respect to Sea-Songs, the solution is sufficiently easy. That England, the Mistress of the Seas, should be great in maritime ode and song — that she should revel, as it were, in such a subject, and leave little to be done by any other portion of the united kingdom, is quite natural. But though the bulk of English maritime lyrics has proceeded from English pens, the few that have been produced by Scotch and Irish are of the highest class. It will scarcely be questioned that Scotland may claim the first place, in right of Campbell’s 44 Battle of the Baltic,” and 44 Ye Mariners of England,” and though 44 Buie Britannia” is not a sea- song, it is worthy of remark that this finest and most exultant national ode of Britain is by a Scotchman. Ireland contributes to the lyric celebration of England’s naval glory in the music of 44 The Arethusa ;” that noble air, by Carolan, being very shabbily purloined by W. Shield. 44 The Mid Watch,” by Sheridan, is of the first mark ; Cherry’s 44 Bay ot Biscay, 0!” achieved great popularity; “The Boatman’s Hymn” (a translation from the Irish) is full of spirit and

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originality ; and last, and greatest, is “ The Forging of the Anchor/’ by Mr. Samuel Ferguson; an ode of surpassing power and beauty.

Under the head of Patriotic and Military Songs, the three books are pretty equal in quantity ; in quality I think Ireland has rather the advantage. The class entitled Jacobite Songs, in the Scottish collection, has its counterpart in this, under the head of Historical and Political Songs ; and this section might have been much larger, but that the nature of the subject rendered the most condensed form the best. Some would, perhaps, say, “ Why introduce such songs at all ?” But I think, in a book purporting to be a comprehensive national collection of lyrics, exemplifying national character an^l incident, such a section could not be omitted. Such songs, odes, and ballads are historically interesting ; the specimens are not confined to the lyric effusions of one party ; those of both are given, arranged in succession, according to their date — or, at least, according to the succession of the times they illustrate. The editorial notice given to some of these may appear long, at first sight, but the notes are no longer than is necessary for the perfect understanding of the text.

I considered it a duty to insert in this volume many songs that have appeared in English collections from the pens of Irish writers. After having stated the unfavourable nature of our start in the race of literature, we cannot afford to have some favourites “ scratched ” out of our list. The works of Goldsmith, Sheridan, O’Keefe, Cherry (and not unfrequently Moore), have been placed to the credit side of the account of England’s lyric literature. This is a mistake which should be rectified. The lyric works of all who are Irish should appear in a book of Irish Songs ; and 1 am supported in this opinion by the precedent afforded me in the Book of Scottish Songs, where numerous lyrics are given without any distinctive Scotticism to

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X mark their nationality, but merely because they are the works of Scottish writers.

It is not requisite that the Shannon, or the LifFey, or some other topographical mark, or Hibernian epithet or idiom, should appear in a song to give Ireland a right to claim it. Human affections, passions, sentiments, are expressed in Ireland without allusion to the Shamrock, or an appeal to St. Patrick ; why then should some national emblem or idiom be insisted upon to constitute a right in Ireland to claim some admirable production of the lyric muse to add to her garland ? No one would venture to dispute that Moore’s songs, “ The Meeting of the Waters,” “The Last Rose of Summer,” and scores of others, stand to the credit of Irish literature, though there is not one word in any of them to identify them as Hibernian. In this collection, the very first song is that of a lady of the illustrious race of Sheridan — “Terence’s Farewell,” by Lady Dufferin ; — that song describes the parting of an Irishman from his sweetheart. No one will dispute that Ireland fairly lays claim to literary honour in that song. Well, close beside this is a lyric by that lady’s sister — the exquisite song, “ Love Not,” by the Honourable Mrs. Norton. Who can say that Ireland is not as well entitled to the honour of that ? What nicety of argument can divide her claim between two sisters ? If the genius of the one do her honour, she is equally entitled to honour from the genius of the other.

Some few songs are given whose authors are not Irish ; but the lyrics being thoroughly Hibernian in subject, cannot be omitted here. Such songs, however, are few — indeed, there are but two of any celebrity, and they are adapted to Irish music : Colman’s “ Savourneen Deelish,” and Campbell’s far-famed lyric, “ The Exile of Erin.” Numberless songs of a comic character have been written by stranger-hands which have not been inserted, utterly deficient as they are in true

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Irish character. Indeed, our native comic song writers, at one period, were too prone to compose their songs on this foreign, false, and exaggerated model, copying all the gross absurdities that were once supposed to constitute an Irish comic song ; among the fancied characteristics of this class were expletive oaths, 66 Whack fol de rols,” — “ hurroos,” pigs, pratees, brogues, shillelahs, jewels, and joys; and coarseness and vulgarity were the offensive substitutes for wit. Happily those songs, too long a disgrace to the literature of Ireland, are being banished by degrees from our literary currency, to give place to others bearing the true stamp of nationality. Nevertheless, some few will be found among the comic songs in this collection not quite free from alloy, but the greater number are of pure metal ; and where they are not so, their presence here has been deemed indispensable, from their having been very popular. And yet some, of great popularity, I have omitted; for example, “ O’Rourke’s Noble Feast,” a paraphrase from the Irish by Dean Swift, which Sir Walter Scott mentions in his edition of the works of the Dean with great praise, but which I think long, even to tediousness, and, what is worse, very coarse, in parts, and its absence, therefore, need not be regretted by any person of refinement. There is another of great celebrity, called “ The Night before Larry was Stretched,” which has been attributed to a clergyman, whose name I forbear to mention; but any one who values* the character of a churchman will hope a churchman never wrote it. As the work of a divine (if it be so), it may be looked upon as a literary curiosity ; but the hanging of a felon who plays cards on his coffin before his execution, described in barbarous slang, is, in my opinion, far more disgusting than comic, and therefore it has not been admitted.

Respecting the notes that are scattered through this volume, I am under some apprehension that a desire to make them more

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xi interesting than notes, under similar circumstances, generally are, may have rendered them sometimes diffuse, but, I trust, not tiresome. Giving the mere date of a song, or the birth aud death of its author, is but dry information, partaking too much of the parish register ; and I had rather be gossiping than dull ; besides, as a collection of lyrics may be considered as contributing to the lighter pleasures of literature — looked into rather for relaxation than study, — a severe, or sober tone of annotation, if not out of place, may at least be dispensed with, except in some rare cases ; and, therefore, I have indulged in an occasional pleasantry of tone in my annotations, rather unusual, I believe, but 1 hope not unbecoming or misplaced ; and wherever a point was worthy of serious explanation, I trust I may be found to have taken pains to be accurate.

In the course of this work I have had occasion to notice certain trespasses committed by Scottish publishers, not only on the music, but the words of Irish songs. The complaint, as far as the music goes, has been often made before ; Moore, for instance, in the third number of the “ Irish Melodies,” says, “ The Scotch lay claim to some of our best airs, but there are strong traits of difference between their melodies and ours. They had formerly the same passion for robbing us of our Saints ; and the learned Dempster was, for this offence, called 4 The Saint Stealer.’ ” But so far from remonstrance producing any beneficial result, the publishers and editors of recent days transgress still more than their antecessors. I wish it to be noticed that it is of Scottish publishers and editors I complain, rather than of the Scottish people ; for it is only natural that any people will be prone to believe that a beautiful melody had its birth among them, if editors and publishers will go on telling them so. What makes this more inexcusable is, that Scotland has enough of beautiful songs of her own without wronging other lands by appropriating theirs ; and having already in this xn

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preface paid the tribute of my highest admiration to the lyric genius of Scotland, I feel myself the more free to expose any false claims of hers on this subject, and in doing so I have been most scrupulous that the proofs I advance should be irrefragable.

In conclusion, I would say that I have endeavoured to make this collection, both in text and annotation, as national as possible. Now, I think the true meaning of the word “national” has, of late, been sometimes misunderstood in Ireland. The word has sometimes been used there in a sense which seems to me rather sectional than national. Several volumes of Irish Songs have been published in Ireland, of late years, far from being general in their character ; they tend rather to minister to the predilections of a portion of Ireland than to enlist the sympathies of all. The introductions to those volumes, and many of their notes, savour so much of the partisan as to limit their circulation — to isolate Ireland, rather than introduce her to an enlarged community of social sympathy. The use of the Celtic alphabetical character mingled in the text with the Roman letter, which has been adopted in some of these volumes, as it embarrasses the English reader, I think a mistake tending to that isolation which I lament, and, therefore, the Celtic alphabetical character has been avoided in this volume. There can be no objection to give an original Irish poem in the old Celtic character, and the translation opposite, or following — as in “ Ilardiman’s Minstrelsy — but to give every Irish name and Irish word in the Celtic character, mixed with the Roman letter, seems to me a mere literary foppery.

While I say this, I beg at the same time to disclaim the smallest disrespect to Irish scholarship. All honour to the translators of Irish works ; be it to those who live, or to the memories of those who have passed away: — all honour to them, I say ! I honour them as the emancipators of their country’s

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Xlll literature from tlie “ chain of silence,,, that that literature might be free to go abroad into the world and raise friends to the land of its birth, by touching the chords of human sympathy:—and, in the spirit of thorough emancipation, I say, let no particle of the fetter from which it has been freed obstruct its way to the English reader.

But, while I express my deepest respect for Irish scholarship, I beg to say that a man may have a sincere love of Ireland, and employ his pen effectively in her cause, without that accomplishment. It is not an ancient alphabetic character ostentatiously appended to a very green ribbon that constitutes the highest Irish “ order of merit the “ trappings and the suits” of patriotism are as little to be depended upon as those of “ woe.” And sure am I that the springs from which the purest love of country flows must be sought for in nobler sources than a fount of Celtic type.

SAMUEL LOVER.

Barnes , London ,

January , 1858.

P. S. I beg to return thanks to all friends who afforded me assistance in the compilation of the following pages, either in granting me permission to use their works, or in forwarding to me, from distant places, extracts from records I pointed out. To name them all is needless, but I must particularize one, W. Chappell, Esq., F.S.A., wrho, from his extensive knowledge in ballad literature, was enabled to offer me some useful suggestions, and to him I am indebted for pointing out Buffett’s song, “ Since Ccelia’s my Foe,”* which clears up, definitively, a disputed musical claim between Ireland and Scotland.