The Irish Poet and the Natural World: An Anthology of Verse in English from the Tudors to the Romantics

Appendix

393 APPENDIx The two printed versions of Joseph Atkinson’s poem Killarny (1769) or Killarney (1798) differ from each other in interesting ways. In its first printing, the poem is said to be by ‘An Officer in the Army’ and is a mere 18 pages in length. The title page of the later 28-page printing, however, gives the poet’s name as ‘Joseph Atkinson Esq.’ and is embellished with an engraved view of the lakes of Killarney. This version also contains a fulsome dedication to the Earl of Moira, ‘Lieutenant-General of His Majesty’s Forces, &c. &c. &c.’ in the course of whichAtkinson asserts that ‘about half the Poem was written by me, and published without my name, nearly twenty-eight years since.’ ‘But,’ he continues: that juvenile and imperfect effort no longer exists on the public recollection, as is now entirely out of print. Since which, having had frequent opportunities of revisiting this terrestrial Paradise, I have lately, during my leisure hours ... endeavoured to correct, enlarge, and embellish the original design to its present more extensive, and, I hope, more pleasing description (p. iv). Comparison between the two versions shows that the ways Atkinson ‘corrected, enlarged and embellished’ the text reflects the changing sensibilities of the late eighteenth century in Ireland. ‘Romantic’vistas are more fully described in the second text and the language becomes fuller, richer and less immediate. The developments in the text reflect one poet’s changing attitudes towards the natural world around him as he grew older and they also show how the increasing influence of the Romanticism which gripped late eighteenth-century Europe filtered through to Irish poetry about the natural world. For the purpose of comparison, the original version of the first few pages of the poem (TExT A) is presented on the left side of the following spreads, with a tint behind. The later version of the same material, TExT B, is presented on the right. 394 TExT A from: Killarny: a poem (1769 printing) Thou guardian Genius of KILLARNY say, Through all thy scenes romantic shall I stray? Guided by thee, the Muse, and Fancy’s train, Thy sylvan shades, and heights sublime attain? Come then, ye Naiads, and ye sportive Fauns, Who guard the waters, and the flow’ry lawns, Aid me, oh, aid me, with poetic fire! And to thy wonders let my verse aspire! See from afar, the alp-like mountains rise, To fill the mind with grandeur and surprise! Some, in the clouds their tops Olympian hide, And by their distance shew superior pride: 395 Appendix TExT B from: Killarney: a poem (1798 printing) YE rural powers! ye legendary train, Who round Killarney’s magic circle reign, Nymphs of the lake! ye dryads, fauns, and fays, (Which bards inspir’d, by incantations raise,) Lead me along, each mystic haunt pursue, Expand each prospect to my raptur’d view; And whilst my muse the blissful scene surveys, Which charms my fancy, and invites my lays, O come, entrance me with poetic fire, Till equal to my theme my verse aspire. AND thou, my patron, whose deserv’d acclaim, Extends our glory and augments thy fame; Whose proud alliance, and illustrious birth, Are only equall’d by thy private worth: In whom our ancient chiefs and nobles blend, (Who gain’d the rights, thy patriot powers defend) Around whose brow the laurel’d trophies shine, Which martial wreaths with classic meeds, entwine; That on some image shou’d renown engrave, ‘As SIDNEY polish’d, and as FAULKLAND brave;’ Whate’er the portrait, or the bust might be, The public mind must give the palm to thee. Then MOIRA, come, thy critic taste suspend, Forget the censor of the lenient friend; And whilst thy name my humble verse adorns, (Which like thyself base adulation scorns) Thy kind indulgence, thy protection grant, And lend the fancy which my muse may want. SEE from afar the Alp-like mountains soar, Like summer verdant, and as winter hoar; Some in the clouds their tops Olympian hide, To veil their grandeur with majestic pride. 396 Above them all—high MANGERTON appears, And to the heavens his daring summit rears! This tow’ring Atlas of Ierne’s shore With wonders crown’d,—as Africk’s Atlas bore! It’s top, a spacious cavern-lake sustains, Fed by deep springs, and never ceasing rains. See, some beneath, with less aspiring height, Yield a more verdant...