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Moore, Thomas, 1779-1852

"The Complete Poems of Sir Thomas Moore Collected by Himself with Explanatory Notes"

This you will
allow is a fair summary of the story; and if Nasser, the Arabian merchant,
told no better, our Holy Prophet (to whom be all honor and glory!) had no
need to be jealous of his abilities for story-telling."
With respect to the style, it was worthy of the matter;--it had not even
those politic contrivances of structure which make up for the commonness
of the thoughts by the peculiarity of the manner nor that stately poetical
phraseology by which sentiments mean in themselves, like the blacksmith's
[138] apron converted into a banner, are so easily gilt and embroidered
into consequence. Then as to the versification it was, to say no worse of
it, execrable: it had neither the copious flow of Ferdosi, the sweetness
of Hafez, nor the sententious march of Sadi; but appeared to him in the
uneasy heaviness of its movements to have been modelled upon the gait of a
very tired dromedary. The licenses too in which it indulged were
unpardonable;--for instance this line, and the poem abounded with such;--
Like the faint, exquisite music of a dream.
"What critic that can count," said FADLADEEN, "and has his full complement
of fingers to count withal, would tolerate for an instant such syllabic
superfluities?"--He here looked round, and discovered that most of his
audience were asleep; while the glimmering lamps seemed inclined to follow
their example.


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