 | A brief memorial of Major Edward Moor, F. R. S. |  |
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“A mind replete with varied Lore,
Its simpler joys retaining,
And, with its rich, exhaustless store,
All pedantry disdaining:
A countenance that brightly shone,
With genial smiles o'erflowing;
A heart that Childhood's self might own,
With generous feelings glowing.”
Its simpler joys retaining,
And, with its rich, exhaustless store,
All pedantry disdaining:
A countenance that brightly shone,
With genial smiles o'erflowing;
A heart that Childhood's self might own,
With generous feelings glowing.”
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A BRIEF MEMORIAL OF MAJOR EDWARD MOOR, F. R. S., &c.
THOU art not dead, though lost to sight!
That sterling Worth—Death could not chill,
To fond remembrance shining bright,
In many a heart embalms thee still.
That sterling Worth—Death could not chill,
To fond remembrance shining bright,
In many a heart embalms thee still.
And thus to live, and so to dwell,
In Memory, as an honor'd Name,
Is a far purer, sweeter spell
Than e'er was wrought by vulgar Fame.
In Memory, as an honor'd Name,
Is a far purer, sweeter spell
Than e'er was wrought by vulgar Fame.
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Yet thine was no inglorious lot;
Through Life—beloved of all to live;
Nor be in Death itself forgot,
Is all that truest Fame can give.
Through Life—beloved of all to live;
Nor be in Death itself forgot,
Is all that truest Fame can give.
In Boyhood, Youth, and Manhood's prime,
Thy days in scenes of strife were past;
Yet not one stain of fraud, or crime,
Those scenes have on thy Memory cast!
Thy days in scenes of strife were past;
Yet not one stain of fraud, or crime,
Those scenes have on thy Memory cast!
'Mid realms where sordid spirits seek
For heap'd up Wealth—to hoard at home,
Where the strong trample on the weak,—
'Twas thine in early Life to roam.
For heap'd up Wealth—to hoard at home,
Where the strong trample on the weak,—
'Twas thine in early Life to roam.
But Thou brought'st nothing with Thee thence,
Home-born delights which could destroy;
Nought but a modest competence,
Wisely to use, and to enjoy.
Home-born delights which could destroy;
Nought but a modest competence,
Wisely to use, and to enjoy.
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Hence couldst Thou look on Nature's face,
Returning to thy native Land,
With smiles;—and take thy fitting place,
With guileless heart, and guiltless hand.
Returning to thy native Land,
With smiles;—and take thy fitting place,
With guileless heart, and guiltless hand.
And well the rank to thee assign'd
Thy head and heart alike became;
The happiness of human-kind
Thy only object, only aim.
Thy head and heart alike became;
The happiness of human-kind
Thy only object, only aim.
Thus nobly didst thou fill a niche
Where mingled Virtues need to blend;
At once a Pattern to the Rich,
Nor less unto the Poor—a Friend!
Where mingled Virtues need to blend;
At once a Pattern to the Rich,
Nor less unto the Poor—a Friend!
If somewhat of a shadowy cloud,
Of later days was round Thee cast,
It could not from our Memory shroud
The beaming brightness of the Past!
Of later days was round Thee cast,
It could not from our Memory shroud
The beaming brightness of the Past!
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When the glad radiance of thy smile,
The cordial frankness of thy tone,
Could even aching hearts beguile
To bliss as blameless as thine own.
The cordial frankness of thy tone,
Could even aching hearts beguile
To bliss as blameless as thine own.
And when unto the grave was borne
One so beloved, esteem'd, endear'd,
Hearts which had cause their loss to mourn,
For thee, were sooth'd, sustain'd, and cheer'd!
One so beloved, esteem'd, endear'd,
Hearts which had cause their loss to mourn,
For thee, were sooth'd, sustain'd, and cheer'd!
They could consign thee unto dust,
With pangless tears, and gentlest sighs;
Sustain'd by holy hope, and trust,
That thou to Light, Life, Joy, would'st rise.
With pangless tears, and gentlest sighs;
Sustain'd by holy hope, and trust,
That thou to Light, Life, Joy, would'st rise.
While Nature, as an emblem true
Of clouds and shadows pass'd away,
Ne'er wore a brighter, balmier hue
Than on thy peaceful burial-day.
Of clouds and shadows pass'd away,
Ne'er wore a brighter, balmier hue
Than on thy peaceful burial-day.
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That sacred Spot, that well known Scene,
By thee so loved, appear'd to wear
A garb so hallow'd, and serene,
As if but peaceful hope was there!
By thee so loved, appear'd to wear
A garb so hallow'd, and serene,
As if but peaceful hope was there!
Until, with many a touching thought
Of all that thou hadst been to me,
My selfish, vain regrets were wrought
To silent gratitude for Thee!
Of all that thou hadst been to me,
My selfish, vain regrets were wrought
To silent gratitude for Thee!
I mused on moments with thee shared
In Winter's eve, in Summer's day;—
Such with thy present lot compar'd,
And bless'd thy Name! and turn'd away!
In Winter's eve, in Summer's day;—
Such with thy present lot compar'd,
And bless'd thy Name! and turn'd away!
Farewell! whate'er of good, or ill,
May yet for me on Earth remain;
I dare not hope Thy place to fill,
Or look upon thy like again.
May yet for me on Earth remain;
I dare not hope Thy place to fill,
Or look upon thy like again.
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LINES FROM THE GERMAN.
[_]
The following translation from the Poems of Ludwig Uhland, Embodies so striking a portrait of the subject of the preceding Memorial, that, by permission of the translator, I fill my remaining page with it.
To visit yet again their earthly Homes,
So wouldst thou come once more, but not when sheds
The paly moon her mournful influence,
When heaviness and longing only wake.
No! when a gentle summer morn descends,
When not a cloudlet specks the azure vault,
When all a golden sea the harvest waves—
Woven throughout with blossoms red and blue;
Then wouldst thou wander thro' the ripen'd fields
Greeting, as erst, each reaper with a smile.
J. H. G.
| A brief memorial of Major Edward Moor, F. R. S. | |