{left}: Henry Holiday: Illustration (1876) to chapter
The Vanishing in Lewis Carroll's
The Hunting of the Snark{right}: John Martin:
The Bard (ca. 1817), now in the
Yale Center for British Art, desaturated (because color not important for comparison) & contrast increased
In
mydailyartdisplay.wordpress.com/the-bard-by-john-martin/, "Jonathan" connects the painting to the poem
The Bard written by by Thomas Gray in 1755:
...
On a rock, whose haughty brow
Frowns o’er cold Conway’s foaming flood,
Robed in the sable garb of woe
With haggard eyes the Poet stood;
...
A Voice, as of the Cherub-Choir,
Gales from blooming Eden bear;
And distant warblings lessen on my ear,
That lost in long futurity expire.
Fond impious Man, think'st thou, yon sanguine cloud,
Rais'd by thy breath, has quench'd the Orb of day?
To-morrow he repairs the golden flood,
And warms the nations with redoubled ray.
"Enough for me: With joy I see
The different doom our Fates assign
Be thine Despair, and scept'red Care,
To triumph, and to die, are mine."
He spoke, and headlong from the mountain's height
Deep in the roaring tide he plung'd to endless night.
...
See also:
-
www.thomasgray.org/cgi-bin/display.cgi?text=bapo-
spenserians.cath.vt.edu/TextRecord.php?action=GET&textsid=34497-
www.english.upenn.edu/~mgamer/Etexts/gray.bard.html-
www.google.com/search?q="%22A+Voice,+as+of+the+Cherub-Choir%22"
The poem inspired John Martin, and John Martin's painting as well as the poem may have inspired Holiday
and Carroll.
I think that there may be allusions to
"Cherubic Songs by night from neighbouring Hills" in John Milton's
Paradise Lost not only in Gray's ode, but also in Carroll's poem.
The last lines of Lewis Carroll's
The Hunting of the Snark:
537 "There is Thingumbob shouting!" the Bellman said,
538 "He is shouting like mad, only hark!
539 He is waving his hands, he is wagging his head,
540 He has certainly found a Snark!"
541 They gazed in delight, while the Butcher exclaimed
542 "He was always a desperate wag!"
543 They beheld him--their Baker--their hero unnamed--
544 On the top of a neighbouring crag.
545 Erect and sublime, for one moment of time.
546 In the next, that wild figure they saw
547 (As if stung by a spasm) plunge into a chasm,
548 While they waited and listened in awe.
549 "It's a Snark!" was the sound that first came to their ears,
550 And seemed almost too good to be true.
551 Then followed a torrent of laughter and cheers:
552 Then the ominous words "It's a Boo-"
553 Then, silence. Some fancied they heard in the air
554 A weary and wandering sigh
555 That sounded like "-jum!" but the others declare
556 It was only a breeze that went by.
557 They hunted till darkness came on, but they found
558 Not a button, or feather, or mark,
559 By which they could tell that they stood on the ground
560 Where the Baker had met with the Snark.
561 In the midst of the word he was trying to say,
562 In the midst of his laughter and glee,
563 He had softly and suddenly vanished away--
564 For the Snark was a Boojum, you see.