The Time I've Lost in Wooing

Thomas Moore

 The time I've lost in wooing,
 In watching and pursuing
 The light, that lies
 In woman's eyes,
 Has been my heart's undoing.
 Though Wisdom oft has sought me,
 I scorn'd the lore she brought me,
 My only books
 Were woman's looks,
 And folly's all they've taught me.

 Her smile when Beauty granted,
 I hung with gaze enchanted,
 Like him, the sprite,
 Whom maids by night
 Oft meet in glen that's haunted.
 Like him, too, Beauty won me,
 But while her eyes were on me,
 If once their ray
 Was turn'd away,
 Oh! winds could not outrun me.

 And are those follies going?
 And is my proud heart growing
 Too cold or wise
 For brilliant eyes
 Again to set it glowing?
 No, vain, alas! th' endeavour
 From bonds so sweet to sever;
 Poor Wisdom's chance
 Against a glance
 Is now as weak as ever.

Commentary

I’ve just realised that we have not run a single poem by Thomas Moore! So here’s another glaring omission rectified…

Note: Moore wrote these words to an old Irish air, “Pease Upon a Trencher”

I like today’s poem both for its musicality - it scarcely needs a footnote to realise that it is a song rather than a poem - and for its unabashed lack of seriousness (in the sense of lightness rather than silliness). It reminds me of Millay’s

   And put a ribbon on my my hair
   To please a passing lad,
   And, "One thing there's no getting by --
   I've been a wicked girl," said I:
   "But if I can't be sorry, why,
   I might as well be glad

though, of course, Moore’s narrator espoused a far more ‘acceptable’ viewpoint than Millay’s.

The viewpoint itself is thoroughly trite, and it is only the beauty of the words that redeems the banality of the sentiment, but this they do a more than adequate job of. In particular, songs often follow a different set of conventions from ‘pure’ poetry, and today’s piece falls well within those conventions.

Incidentally, Herrick’s “Night Piece, To Julia” scans almost precisely to today’s song - I wonder if Herrick had the same tune in mind, or whether it’s just an easily-hit-upon pattern. Interestingly enough, my comment on the former

Another of those wonderfully musical poems the rhythm of which sticks in my mind long after the words have faded.

proved itself true - I hadn’t thought of Herrick’s poem in ages, but the rhythms of today’s piece instantly recalled it.

— Martin

Links

There’s a MIDI file here: http://www.contemplator.com/folk5/wooing.html

Biography: http://www.kirjasto.sci.fi/tmoore.htm


The Wondering Minstrels, poem #1274 · 11 June 2003

Poem selected by Martin DeMello

Fair use