the same kind,
and on the whole the straightforward simplicity of the phrase equals
the melody of the rhythm.

The Sacred Songs need not delay us long; for they are not better than
sacred songs in general, which is saying remarkably little. Perhaps the
most interesting thing in them is the well-known couplet,

This world is but a fleeting show
For man's illusion given--

which, as has justly been observed, contains one of the most singular
estimates of the divine purpose anywhere to be found. But Moore might,
like Mr. Midshipman Easy, have excused himself by remarking, "Ah! well,
I don't understand these things." The miscellaneous division of Ballads,
Songs, etc., is much more fruitful. "The Leaf and the Fountain,"
beginning "Tell me, kind seer, I pray thee," though rather long, is
singularly good of its kind--the kind of half-narrative ballad. So in a
lighter strain is "The Indian Bark." Nor is Moore less at home after his
own fashion in the songs from the Anthology. It is true that the same
fault which has been found with his Anacreon may be found here, and that
it is all the more sensible because at least in some cases the originals
are much higher poetry than the pseudo-Teian. To the form and style of
Meleager Moore could not pretend; but as these are rather songs on Greek
motives than translations from the Greek, the slackness and dilution
matter less. But the strictly miscellaneous division holds some of the
best work. We could no doubt dispense with the well-known ditty (for
once very nearly the "rubbish" with which Moore is so often and so
unjustly charged) where Posada rhymes of necessity to Granada, and
where, quite against the author's habit, the ridiculous term "Sultana"
is fished out to do similar duty in reference to the Dulcinea, or rather
to the Maritornes, of a muleteer. But this is quite an exception, and as
a rule the facile verse is as felicitous as it is facile. Perhaps no one
stands out very far above the rest; perhaps all have more or less the
mark of easy variations on a few well-known themes. The old comparison
that they are as numerous as motes, as bright, as fleeting, and as
individually insignificant, comes naturally enough to the mind. But then
they are very numerous, they are very bright, and if they are fleeting,
their number provides plenty more to take the place of that which passes
away. Nor is it by any means true that they lack individual
significance.

This enumeration o