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

Mary Barber (c.1685–c.1728–1755)

169 MARY BARBER (c.1685–1728–1755) Mary Barber, the wife of a Dublin woollen draper, was an active and accomplished poet. She was a member of Swift’s Dublin circle in the 1730s and acted on his behalf with publishers in London. Many of her poems spring from domestic activities. It is not clear which of Mrs Barber’s country friends owned gardens fit to be described as ‘your Versailles’; however the poem that follows is notable for containing (at lines 45-52) the earliest poetic description of the Northern Lights or aurora borealis as seen in Ireland. Written from Dublin to a Lady in the Country A Wretch, in smoaky Dublin pent, Who rarely sees the Firmament, You graciously invite, to view The Sun’s enliv’ning Rays with you; To change the Town for flow’ry Meads, And sing beneath the sylvan Shades. You’re kind in vain—it will not be— Retirement was deny’d to me; Doom’d by inexorable Fate, To pass thro’ crouded Scenes I hate. 10 O with what Joy could I survey The rising, glorious Source of Day! Attend the Shepherd’s fleecy Care, Transported with the vernal Air, Behold the Meadow’s painted Pride, Or see the limpid Waters glide; Survey the distant, shaded Hills, And, pensive, hear the murm’ring Rills. Thro’ your Versailles1 with Pleasure rove, Admire the Gardens, and the Grove; 20 See Nature’s bounteous Hand adorn The blushing Peach, and blooming Thorn; Behold the Birds distend their Throats, And hear their wild, melodious Notes. The gardens at the palace of Versailles, laid out by Andre le Notre on the instructions of 1 Louis xIV between 1662 and 1700, were the most famous pleasure gardens in the world. 170 Delighted, thro’ your Pastures roam, Or see the Kine2 come lowing home; Whose od’rous Breaths a Joy impart, That sooths the Sense, and glads the Heart; With pleasure view the frothing Pails, And silent hear the creaking Rails;3 30 See whistling Hinds4 attend their Ploughs, Who never hear of broken Vows; Where no Ambition to be great, E’er taught the Nymph, or Swain, deceit. Thus thro’ the Day, delighted, run; Then raptur’d view the setting Sun; The rich, diffusive God behold, On distant Mountains pouring Gold, Gilding the beauteous, rising Spire, While Crystal Windows glow with Fire; 40 Gaze, till he quit the Western Skies, And long to see his Sister rise; Prefer the silent, silver Moon To the too radiant, noisy Noon. Or Northward turn, with new Delight, To mark what Triumphs wait the Night; When Shepherds think the Heaven’s foreshow Some dire Commotions here below; When Light the human Form assumes, And Champions meet with nodding Plumes, 50 With Silver Streamers, wide unfurl’d, And gleaming Spears amaze the World. Thence to the higher Heav’ns I soar, And the great Architect adore; Behold what Worlds are hung in Air, And view Ten Thousand Empires there; Then prostrate to JEHOVA fall, Who into Being spake them all. cows. 2 The corkcrake or ‘landrail’ has a distinctive, rasping call. 3 farm workers, rustics. 4 ...