he Greeks and the Romans wrote much
poetry, but never rhymed it.[4] Their metrical system was elaborate,
satisfactory, and pleasing, but it did not recognise the concordant chime
of syllables. Again, there is no recognition of rhyme, as the term is now
understood, in any of the Gothic dialects previous to the ninth century.

Now, what are we to infer from all this? Here I state my proposition,
which is, that the human ear had not then acquired the power of
distinguishing and taking pleasure in these sound-echoes or repetitions
which we call rhymes. That these would have been adopted, could they have
been discriminated, must be inferred from their quick-extending popularity
when introduced, and their subsequent universal prevalence.

Some years ago, a German professor introduced, and Mr. Gladstone, with the
characteristic vigour of his many-sided mind, supported the theory that
primitive man was partially colour-blind, that he could not discriminate
well between differing hues. Many passages from the classic authors were
adduced in support of this hypothesis, and the argument is based largely
on the paucity or descriptive incompleteness of the colour-epithets. But,
I venture to think that both these eminent authors would have considered
their case strengthened beyond cavil had there been an entire absence of
colour-epithets. That is my case: there is an entire absence of rhyme from
the classic compositions and from the Gothic dialects, in the early ages,
and therefore we must infer that the producers were deaf to the nice
distinctions of chiming sounds. In other words, they were rhyme-deaf.

Whence, then, came this new faculty with which mankind has been endowed?
There can be no doubt that all the European races, spread as they now are
over the world, are indebted for this great gift, which has quickened,
delighted, elevated, and ennobled them for ages, to the Celts, and
demonstrably to the ancient Irish. That seems a great claim to make--so
great that when an Irishman makes it, one might suppose exaggeration; but
foreign scholarship confesses it in part, and the facts render its
acceptance imperative. In our most ancient poems, such as that assigned to
Lugad, son of Ith (who flourished long before the Christian era), where
the language is archaic, full end-rhymes (of consonants and of vowels) are
found amongst other examples of perfect correspondence.[5]

Granting that the ancient Irish possessed the gift of discerning