Tubal Cain

Charles Mackay

Charles Mackay (1814-1889) was a Scotch poet and journalist. For some years he was editor of London publications and during the Civil War was special correspondent to the London Times, stationed in New York.

Bring out the rhythm and melody of this selection so as to suggest the musical blows of a smith upon his anvil. However, do not forget to bring out the lesson conveyed.

OLD Tubal Cain was a man of might

In the days when the earth was young;
By the fierce red light of his furnace bright,
The strokes of his hammer rung;

And he lifted high his brawny hand

On the iron glowing clear,

Till the sparks rushed out in scarlet showers,
As he fashioned the sword and spear.

And he sang, "Hurrah for my handiwork!
Hurrah for the spear and sword!

Hurrah for the hand that shall wield them well!

For he shall be king and lord."

To Tubal Cain came many a one

As he wrought by his roaring fire,

And each one prayed for a strong steel blade,

As the crown of his desire;

And he made them weapons, sharp and strong,
Till they shouted loud in glee,

And gave him gifts of pearl and gold,

And spoils of the forest free.

And they sang, "Hurrah for Tubal Cain,
Who hath given us strength anew!
Hurrah for the smith! hurrah for the fire!
And hurrah for the metal true!"

But a sudden change came o'er his heart
Ere the setting of the sun,

And Tubal Cain was filled with pain
For the evil he had done.

He saw that men with rage and hate,

Made war upon their kind;

That the land was red with the blood they shed
In their lust for carnage, blind.

And he said, "Alas, that ever I made
Or that skill of mine should plan,
The spear and sword for men whose joy
Is to slay their fellow-man!"

And, for many a day, old Tubal Cain
Sat brooding o'er his woe;

And his hand forebore to smite the ore,
And his furnace smouldered low;
But he rose, at last, with a cheerful face,
And a bright, courageous eye,

And bared his strong right arm for work,
While the quick flames mounted high;
And he sang, "Hurrah for my handiwork!"
And the red sparks lit the air,—

"Not alone for the blade was the bright steel made,"

And he fashioned the first plowshare.

And men, taught wisdom from the past,
In friendship joined their hands,

Hung the sword in the hall, the spear on the wall,
And plowed the willing lands;

And sang, "Hurrah for Tubal Cain!

Our staunch good friend is he;
And, for the plowshare and the plow,
To him our praise shall be.

But, while oppression lifts its head,
Or a tyrant would be lord,

Though we may thank him for the plow,
We'll not forget the sword."

Oft in the Stilly Night

Thomas Moore

At an early age he Thomas Moore was born at Dublin, in 1779. entered Trinity College, and later studied law in Middle Temple, London. In 1801 he published a translation of "Odes of Anacreon." The following year there appeared "The Poetical Works of the Late Thomas Little." He visited the United States in 1804 and His satirized its society and institutions in "Odes and Epistles.' most important prose work is the "Life of Lord Byron." Of his poetry, "Lalla Rookh," "Irish Melodies," and "The Twopenny PostBag," are most worthy of note.

Make much of the rhyme in this poem.

A spirit of reverie pervades the lines and the tone should be softened accordingly. The rate is slow.

OFT, in the stilly night,

Ere slumber's chain hath bound me,

Fond Memory brings the light

Of other days around me;

The smiles, the tears,

Of boyhood's years,

The words of love then spoken;

The eyes that shone,

Now dimmed and gone,

The cheerful hearts now broken!

Thus, in the stilly night,

Ere Slumber's chain hath bound me,

Sad Memory brings the light

Of other days around me. When I remember all

The friends, so linked together, I've seen around me fall,

Like leaves in wintry weather;

I feel like one,

Who treads alone

Some banquet-hall deserted,
Whose lights are fled,

Whose garlands dead,
And all but he departed!

Thus, in the stilly night,

Ere Slumber's chain hath bound me,

Sad Memory brings the light

Of other days around me.