There must be some English majors reading this; has anyone ever heard of Thomas Moore?. Apparently, according to the Harvard Classics, he is immortal, and here is the beginning of the evidence:
| OFT in the stilly night | |
| Ere slumber’s chain has bound me, | |
| Fond Memory brings the light | |
| Of other days around me: |
One of the upsides of poetry no longer being popular is that no one uses "ere" anymore. It's hard to see how this poetry was ever popular ("Oh! the last rays of feeling and life must depart,/Ere the bloom of that valley shall fade from my heart"), but I guess it's just that people get their mawkish, overdone sentiment from somewhere else nowadays -- singer-songwriters, Hallmark cards, like that. Meanwhile current poetry has moved to the Higher Sentiment, where the tearjerking load is carried by what is (carefully) not said.
And since I am at the point myself of having much not to say, I think that will do it for tonight.
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