 | The British Months |  |
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JUNE.
Farewell to May: welcome to June. Their respective beauties. Name of June characteristick. Reign of Summer established
Farewell, delightful May, farewell!
Thy breath, thy own sweet lily's smell;
Thy smile, the wavy sea serene;
Thy robe, the meadow's emerald green
Broider'd before, behind, with flowers,
Work'd by the ever-busy Hours;
Thou youngest daughter of the Spring,
Who tarried but thy charms to bring
To perfectness; and, that complete,
With thee the fairest and most sweet
Of all her race, is past away;
Farewell to thee delicious May!
Thy breath, thy own sweet lily's smell;
Thy smile, the wavy sea serene;
Thy robe, the meadow's emerald green
Broider'd before, behind, with flowers,
Work'd by the ever-busy Hours;
Thou youngest daughter of the Spring,
Who tarried but thy charms to bring
To perfectness; and, that complete,
With thee the fairest and most sweet
Of all her race, is past away;
Farewell to thee delicious May!
But welcome, of the Summer Sun
Bright offspring! welcome, glorious June,
Heir to fair May's relinquish'd place!
If hers the lovely female grace
In Medicean statue shown;
No less, bright Month, is all thy own
The manly beauty of the year,
Like the fam'd god of Belvidere:
If hers the winning softness bland,
Thine is the step of high command;
The flamelike mantle loosely flung,
And down thy half-clad shoulders hung;
The bow, and arrow's golden flight;
And proud to mark their piercing might
The sparkling eye severe, and glow
Irradiate of the upright brow.
Bright offspring! welcome, glorious June,
Heir to fair May's relinquish'd place!
If hers the lovely female grace
In Medicean statue shown;
No less, bright Month, is all thy own
The manly beauty of the year,
Like the fam'd god of Belvidere:
If hers the winning softness bland,
Thine is the step of high command;
The flamelike mantle loosely flung,
And down thy half-clad shoulders hung;
The bow, and arrow's golden flight;
And proud to mark their piercing might
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Irradiate of the upright brow.
I know not if Rome's Founder King
Invented, as her poets sing,
The names of May and June to grace
Her major and her junior race.
But well meseems by just desert
Confest might June his name assert,
As index of the youthful prime
And vigour of that radiant time.
Invented, as her poets sing,
The names of May and June to grace
Her major and her junior race.
But well meseems by just desert
Confest might June his name assert,
As index of the youthful prime
And vigour of that radiant time.
For now bright Summer has begun
Confirm'd his king-like course to run:
And the grim Winter, loth to yield
To Spring's mild sway the foughten field,
And ever forward to pursue
The strife with shafts of war anew,
With hail, and storm, and biting frost;
At length compell'd, the battle lost
Confessing, to the caves of night
Withdraws his implements of fight,
Submissive to the ardent noon
Of Summer, and his first-born June.
Confirm'd his king-like course to run:
And the grim Winter, loth to yield
To Spring's mild sway the foughten field,
And ever forward to pursue
The strife with shafts of war anew,
With hail, and storm, and biting frost;
At length compell'd, the battle lost
Confessing, to the caves of night
Withdraws his implements of fight,
Submissive to the ardent noon
Of Summer, and his first-born June.
Magnificence of the sky. The setting sun. Twilight. Brightness of the night. Its beauties in Britain's northern parts
How glorious is yon vaulted dome!
Far as the excursive eye can roam,
From that deep azure overhead
To where the earth's wide girdle spread
Around us terminates the view,
With paler and yet paler blue;
No spot pollutes the pure serene:
Or if a transient spot be seen
Of scatter'd vapour here and there,
Ascending through the calm clear air,
Soon fades it from the following sight,
And melting joins the abyss of light.
Far as the excursive eye can roam,
From that deep azure overhead
To where the earth's wide girdle spread
Around us terminates the view,
With paler and yet paler blue;
No spot pollutes the pure serene:
Or if a transient spot be seen
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Ascending through the calm clear air,
Soon fades it from the following sight,
And melting joins the abyss of light.
Then as the Sun draws near his rest
Of glory, 'twixt the north and west,
How chang'd is that horizon pale!
How from behind the filmy veil
Looks forth the setting orb of gold!
And ere the twilight dim infold
The face of things, what tints are seen,
Of brilliant yellow, purple, green,
Flooding the sky with liquid gleams!
Thence mounting upward, how the streams
On some small cloud, if cloud appear,
Scarce moving through the concave sphere,
Cast their reflection's vivid glow;
Illumining the skirts below
With gold and purple hues array'd,
The parts superior veil'd in shade!
Of glory, 'twixt the north and west,
How chang'd is that horizon pale!
How from behind the filmy veil
Looks forth the setting orb of gold!
And ere the twilight dim infold
The face of things, what tints are seen,
Of brilliant yellow, purple, green,
Flooding the sky with liquid gleams!
Thence mounting upward, how the streams
On some small cloud, if cloud appear,
Scarce moving through the concave sphere,
Cast their reflection's vivid glow;
Illumining the skirts below
With gold and purple hues array'd,
The parts superior veil'd in shade!
Then what a twilight girdles round
(For night is none) heaven's northern bound!
(For night is none) heaven's northern bound!
O'ermantling that wide vault on high,
The dark deep azure of the sky,
Creeps gently o'er the southern pole
A shadow thin: but from the goal,
Where yon bright track afar reveals
The fiery sun's yet lingering wheels,
Flushes of rich warm colouring tinge
The horizon with a gorgeous fringe
Of saffron melting into blue:
Till by degrees that saffron hue,
Paling its gorgeous tissue bright,
Fades to a band of lucid white,
Of lucid white a moving zone;
Which, in its brilliance, circles on,
And on still circles, stealing forth
Towards, beyond, the midmost north:
And then, as circling on it goes,
More bright that lucid whiteness grows,
More bright and brighter: till again
With colours of a richer grain
Its course it tinges; and at last
The eastward journey halfway past,
With new-sown light the skies are spread;
And o'er the glowing mountain's head,
Clear'd of its veil of shadows dim,
The rising sun his bended rim
At first, and then is seen unfold
Step after step, his orb of gold,
That “all the orient with delight
Laughs to behold that glorious sight .”
The dark deep azure of the sky,
Creeps gently o'er the southern pole
A shadow thin: but from the goal,
Where yon bright track afar reveals
The fiery sun's yet lingering wheels,
Flushes of rich warm colouring tinge
The horizon with a gorgeous fringe
Of saffron melting into blue:
Till by degrees that saffron hue,
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Fades to a band of lucid white,
Of lucid white a moving zone;
Which, in its brilliance, circles on,
And on still circles, stealing forth
Towards, beyond, the midmost north:
And then, as circling on it goes,
More bright that lucid whiteness grows,
More bright and brighter: till again
With colours of a richer grain
Its course it tinges; and at last
The eastward journey halfway past,
With new-sown light the skies are spread;
And o'er the glowing mountain's head,
Clear'd of its veil of shadows dim,
The rising sun his bended rim
At first, and then is seen unfold
Step after step, his orb of gold,
That “all the orient with delight
Laughs to behold that glorious sight .”
Such whiteness through the summer night,
Scarce widow'd of the orb of light,
As wheeling near at hand he flings
The effluence from his radiant wings
Up through the twilight's bounded pale,
Our Britain's northern dwellers hail.
And oft in May and pleasant June,
When the still night approach'd her noon,
I've stol'n an hour from welcome sleep,
To see that lucid whiteness creep
Rounding the northern hemisphere;
So delicately soft and clear,
No hues that light the splendid day
Such clearness, softness, can display,
As that pale-tinctur'd gleam that now
A chaplet hangs on darkness' brow,
Still narrowing till the noon of night,
And widening with the approaching light.
Scarce widow'd of the orb of light,
As wheeling near at hand he flings
The effluence from his radiant wings
Up through the twilight's bounded pale,
Our Britain's northern dwellers hail.
And oft in May and pleasant June,
When the still night approach'd her noon,
I've stol'n an hour from welcome sleep,
To see that lucid whiteness creep
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So delicately soft and clear,
No hues that light the splendid day
Such clearness, softness, can display,
As that pale-tinctur'd gleam that now
A chaplet hangs on darkness' brow,
Still narrowing till the noon of night,
And widening with the approaching light.
Grandeur of the sun. Its effect on the ancient heathen. Adoration of the sun. Inference concerning the Creator. God proportionably shewn by the excellence of his works
But peer or not that fillet white;—
(For briefer still, less broad and bright,
It shows, as from the pole sublime
Is distant each successive clime,
Till London scarce the pallid zone
Sees breaking on the curtain thrown
Continuous o'er her midnight vault;—)
Yet who that will his mind exalt
From the dull earth, and lift his eyes
To gaze on summer's sun-bright skies,
Can fail to bless that glorious globe,
What time he first begins to robe,
Forth issuing from his bridegroom tent,
The golden-gleaming firmament;
Or o'er his widest, loftiest arch,
Holds through mid heav'n his stately march,
To plant on yon solstitial height,
Of gold inwove and purple light,
His banner's floating folds, and leave
Its splendour on the waning eve?
(For briefer still, less broad and bright,
It shows, as from the pole sublime
Is distant each successive clime,
Till London scarce the pallid zone
Sees breaking on the curtain thrown
Continuous o'er her midnight vault;—)
Yet who that will his mind exalt
From the dull earth, and lift his eyes
To gaze on summer's sun-bright skies,
Can fail to bless that glorious globe,
What time he first begins to robe,
Forth issuing from his bridegroom tent,
The golden-gleaming firmament;
Or o'er his widest, loftiest arch,
Holds through mid heav'n his stately march,
To plant on yon solstitial height,
Of gold inwove and purple light,
His banner's floating folds, and leave
Its splendour on the waning eve?
'Tis said the heathen old, with mind
To God's eternal Godhead blind,
And all unconscious of the might
Which spoke not to his ears or sight;
When on the eastern mountain gray
He saw the golden orb of day
Prepar'd his burning wheels to roll,
Acknowledg'd him the eye and soul
Supreme of this diurnal sphere;
Press'd on his lips in awful fear
His hand , and brow adoring bow'd
In worship of the present God.
And surely, if created thing
Inanimate might seem the King
Of heav'n above, and earth below;
No likelier sway could nature know,
Than his, who on his peerless tower
Seems, like a god, with sovereign power
To rule each sublunary form;
With grace to clothe, with life to warm;
In heav'n o'er each diminish'd light
Bear empire with unrivall'd might,
And earth's dark caverns search and try
With lustre of his piercing eye.
To God's eternal Godhead blind,
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Which spoke not to his ears or sight;
When on the eastern mountain gray
He saw the golden orb of day
Prepar'd his burning wheels to roll,
Acknowledg'd him the eye and soul
Supreme of this diurnal sphere;
Press'd on his lips in awful fear
His hand , and brow adoring bow'd
In worship of the present God.
And surely, if created thing
Inanimate might seem the King
Of heav'n above, and earth below;
No likelier sway could nature know,
Than his, who on his peerless tower
Seems, like a god, with sovereign power
To rule each sublunary form;
With grace to clothe, with life to warm;
In heav'n o'er each diminish'd light
Bear empire with unrivall'd might,
And earth's dark caverns search and try
With lustre of his piercing eye.
But what's the sun, with strength array'd
And majesty, to Him who made
And holds him in his daily course?
If his be vigour, what's the force
Which form'd him and preserves him strong?
If majesty to him belong,
What must that mightier Being be,
Who robed him thus with majesty;
And gave him empire; and alone
Supports him on his azure throne?
In all creation's works, the source
Alone of beauty and of force,
He forms his creatures as they are,
For greatness strong, for beauty fair;
But each how infinitely less
Than his stupendous perfectness!
Yet all meanwhile, the more they show
Of grace and strength, the more to know
They lead us by authentick sign,
Of his creative power divine;
The more to see Him, and the more,
Though from afar, his steps adore!
And majesty, to Him who made
And holds him in his daily course?
If his be vigour, what's the force
Which form'd him and preserves him strong?
If majesty to him belong,
What must that mightier Being be,
Who robed him thus with majesty;
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Supports him on his azure throne?
In all creation's works, the source
Alone of beauty and of force,
He forms his creatures as they are,
For greatness strong, for beauty fair;
But each how infinitely less
Than his stupendous perfectness!
Yet all meanwhile, the more they show
Of grace and strength, the more to know
They lead us by authentick sign,
Of his creative power divine;
The more to see Him, and the more,
Though from afar, his steps adore!
All periods of the day delightful. Dawn. The landscape at Sunrise. Sunrise announced by the birds. Their songs, hymns of praise. A lesson for man.
Teems now with visions of delight
Each period of the day and night!
Each period of the day and night!
How goodly is the hour of prime!
When the great Sun begins to climb
His steepest passage up the sky:
On the tall rock and summit high
Of crested grove his orient beams
First fall, and kiss with golden gleams
The face that eastward courts his smile.
But on the half-lit lawn the while
Lies the broad shade of hill or tree.
And brooding o'er the scarce seen Sea
Hang fleecy vapours dim, and hide
The misty mountain's bordering side.
When the great Sun begins to climb
His steepest passage up the sky:
On the tall rock and summit high
Of crested grove his orient beams
First fall, and kiss with golden gleams
The face that eastward courts his smile.
But on the half-lit lawn the while
Lies the broad shade of hill or tree.
And brooding o'er the scarce seen Sea
Hang fleecy vapours dim, and hide
The misty mountain's bordering side.
Then in unnumber'd myriads born
The dew-drops from the womb of morn
On grass or cornfield, leaf and spray,
Touch'd by the sun's resplendent ray
Shine with the rainbow's braided dies.
The herald Lark, who told his rise
Approaching, in mid air the songs
Of gratulation sweet prolongs;
Join'd with the crow of Village Cock,
Who bids good morrow to his flock;
And warns the Blackbird and the Thrush:
Who from tall tree or lowly bush
Erewhile with interrupted lay
Began to greet the morning gray;
And now more loud and blithe again
Take up the yet unfinished strain
With whistle of the mellow bill,
Or varied chant's protracted trill:
And calls on many a songster more;
The Redbreast, who, if not before,
Now fails not with the sun to wake,
And sing his carol from the brake;
The Goldfinch with his spritely note;
The Linnet's many-mingled throat;
The Black-cap from the orchard tree
With wild and merry minstrelsy;
While from beneath the straw-built shed,
Or perch'd upon the rooftree's head,
The Swallow prunes her for the flight,
And twittering hails the welcome light.
The dew-drops from the womb of morn
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Touch'd by the sun's resplendent ray
Shine with the rainbow's braided dies.
The herald Lark, who told his rise
Approaching, in mid air the songs
Of gratulation sweet prolongs;
Join'd with the crow of Village Cock,
Who bids good morrow to his flock;
And warns the Blackbird and the Thrush:
Who from tall tree or lowly bush
Erewhile with interrupted lay
Began to greet the morning gray;
And now more loud and blithe again
Take up the yet unfinished strain
With whistle of the mellow bill,
Or varied chant's protracted trill:
And calls on many a songster more;
The Redbreast, who, if not before,
Now fails not with the sun to wake,
And sing his carol from the brake;
The Goldfinch with his spritely note;
The Linnet's many-mingled throat;
The Black-cap from the orchard tree
With wild and merry minstrelsy;
While from beneath the straw-built shed,
Or perch'd upon the rooftree's head,
The Swallow prunes her for the flight,
And twittering hails the welcome light.
Is it the hymn of grateful praise,
That these delightful chanters raise,
As, with one voice and one concent,
The temple of the firmament
Their loud and joyous anthems thrill?
Howe'er it be, their songs may fill
With rivaery the heart of man,
And prompt the thought; “if, as they can,
These little birds their voices swell,
And the Creator's glory tell,
Who gives them voice and power of song;
How fits it them, to whom belong
Reason with voice conjoin'd, and skill,
And knowledge of their Maker's will,
Stamp'd with his own authentick seal,
A mind to think, a heart to feel;—
How fits it them the voice to raise,
Skill, reason, knowledge, to his praise:
With thinking mind, and feeling heart,
To wake and waking bear their part
In those blithe concerts of the skies;
Nor, while to God the anthems rise
Of feather'd chanters, leave unsung
His glory by the human tongue!”
That these delightful chanters raise,
As, with one voice and one concent,
The temple of the firmament
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Howe'er it be, their songs may fill
With rivaery the heart of man,
And prompt the thought; “if, as they can,
These little birds their voices swell,
And the Creator's glory tell,
Who gives them voice and power of song;
How fits it them, to whom belong
Reason with voice conjoin'd, and skill,
And knowledge of their Maker's will,
Stamp'd with his own authentick seal,
A mind to think, a heart to feel;—
How fits it them the voice to raise,
Skill, reason, knowledge, to his praise:
With thinking mind, and feeling heart,
To wake and waking bear their part
In those blithe concerts of the skies;
Nor, while to God the anthems rise
Of feather'd chanters, leave unsung
His glory by the human tongue!”
Noon. The Goatsbeard and scarlet Pimpernel. Repose in the forest. Deer. Waving of the grass, and of the corn in blade. The Waterfall. Cattle in the pool. Various groups
When from his high meridian tower
The sun looks down in majesty:
What time about the grassy lea
The Goatsbeard, prompt his rise to hail
With broad expanded disk, in veil
Close mantling wraps its yellow head,
And “goes,” as peasants say, “to bed;”
While their bright eyes amid the sand
The scarlet Pimpernells expand,
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Enamour'd on the solar rays.
'Tis pleasant then to sit at ease
In the deep shade of forest trees,
And note the various tints of green
That grace the full-leaf'd woodland scene;
And scent in that o'erarching bower
The Lime-tree's pale and fragrant flower;
And see the sun, who in his pride
Has now the sparkling dewdrops dried
Which on their morning branches hung,
Scarce weave the chequering boughs among
His downright light; where free from fear,
The slim and lofty-antler'd deer,
Attendant on their fallow does,
Seek the cool shelter's calm repose,
Replenish'd with the morning food;
And in their native neighbourhood
March stately through the opening glade,
Or crowding haunt the greenwood shade.
'Tis pleasant, when the balmy gale
Breathes freshly o'er the cultur'd vale,
And mitigates the burning heat;
To issue from that woodland seat,
And watch the cooling breezes pass
Above the deep and blossom'd grass;
Which waving, as the zephyr blows,
Its colours to the sun-beam shows,
Wave after wave of mingled die,
Of light and brown alternately;
And bends and lifts the elastick head
As from the fairy's viewless tread.
Breathes freshly o'er the cultur'd vale,
And mitigates the burning heat;
To issue from that woodland seat,
And watch the cooling breezes pass
Above the deep and blossom'd grass;
Which waving, as the zephyr blows,
Its colours to the sun-beam shows,
Wave after wave of mingled die,
Of light and brown alternately;
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As from the fairy's viewless tread.
'Tis pleasant, o'er the bladed field,
Ere the round stalk unclosing yield
The spike that swells the tumid sheath,
To watch the zephyr's trembling breath.
The bladed field inclining plays
And glistens in the sunny blaze,
As with metallick splendour bright:
That scarce a more refulgent light
Beams from yon azure mirrour sheen,
Than from the wavy cornfield green.
Ere the round stalk unclosing yield
The spike that swells the tumid sheath,
To watch the zephyr's trembling breath.
The bladed field inclining plays
And glistens in the sunny blaze,
As with metallick splendour bright:
That scarce a more refulgent light
Beams from yon azure mirrour sheen,
Than from the wavy cornfield green.
'Tis pleasant where the winged fern
Half hides from view the mountain bourn,
Beside the limpid water's fall
To ponder: here with ceaseless brawl
Down the rough rock the torrent leaps;
There gliding smooth the runnel creeps
Through the green banks its tinkling way.
On the rough rock the dashing spray
Breathes coolness, and the very sound
Flings a delicious freshness round;
Nor less, faint tinkling as it flows,
The scarce-heard runnel courts repose.
Half hides from view the mountain bourn,
Beside the limpid water's fall
To ponder: here with ceaseless brawl
Down the rough rock the torrent leaps;
There gliding smooth the runnel creeps
Through the green banks its tinkling way.
On the rough rock the dashing spray
Breathes coolness, and the very sound
Flings a delicious freshness round;
Nor less, faint tinkling as it flows,
The scarce-heard runnel courts repose.
But where, the sloping bed beyond,
Expanded in a level pond
The gather'd waters sleep; you see,
Collected from the bordering lea,
The kine a cooling refuge seek.
Here on the grass, with aspect meek,
Chewing the pleasant cud they lie:
There in the liquid basin nigh,
Regardless of their verdant food,
Knee-deep within the circling flood,
Like sculptur'd forms they stand: or sip,
With bended neck and curling lip,
The gently rippling wave: or try,
From their vex'd sides the stinging fly
With lash of well-aim'd tail to chase;
Lash'd from their sides, returns apace
Unharm'd the frequent fly, and brings
Fresh venom in its piercing stings;
Nor heeds the stamp of restless hoof,
Causing the turbid wave aloof
In widely circling rings to spread;
Nor tossing of the horned head
Aloft in furious menace thrown,
Nor bellowing fierce nor plaintive moan.
Expanded in a level pond
The gather'd waters sleep; you see,
Collected from the bordering lea,
The kine a cooling refuge seek.
Here on the grass, with aspect meek,
Chewing the pleasant cud they lie:
There in the liquid basin nigh,
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Knee-deep within the circling flood,
Like sculptur'd forms they stand: or sip,
With bended neck and curling lip,
The gently rippling wave: or try,
From their vex'd sides the stinging fly
With lash of well-aim'd tail to chase;
Lash'd from their sides, returns apace
Unharm'd the frequent fly, and brings
Fresh venom in its piercing stings;
Nor heeds the stamp of restless hoof,
Causing the turbid wave aloof
In widely circling rings to spread;
Nor tossing of the horned head
Aloft in furious menace thrown,
Nor bellowing fierce nor plaintive moan.
Prospect of the hay-field. The Mowers. Brooding Partride, Lark, Corncrake. The haymakers. The farmer. Hay-cart. Fragrance of the hay. Vernal Grass. Sounds of the Hay-field. Objects for the Botanist. Clover. Variety of grasses. Their peculiar beauty.
'Tis pleasant on the steep hill side,
Where lies in view the prospect wide
Of cultur'd farm, with interchange
Of tilth and pasture, cot and grange,
At ease the careless limbs to stretch
Beneath the broad o'erarching beech;
And, lighted by the sky serene,
Mark the full hayfield's varied scene.
Where lies in view the prospect wide
Of cultur'd farm, with interchange
Of tilth and pasture, cot and grange,
At ease the careless limbs to stretch
Beneath the broad o'erarching beech;
And, lighted by the sky serene,
Mark the full hayfield's varied scene.
Here, as the swarthy mowers pass
Slow through the tall and russet grass,
In marshall'd rank, from side to side,
With circling stroke and measur'd stride,
Before the scythe's wide sweeping sway
The russet meadow's tall array
Falls, and the bristly surface strows
With the brown swathe's successive rows.
Slow through the tall and russet grass,
In marshall'd rank, from side to side,
With circling stroke and measur'd stride,
Before the scythe's wide sweeping sway
The russet meadow's tall array
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With the brown swathe's successive rows.
Ah, take they heed, nor on her nest
The Partridge ill-secur'd molest!
Deep in the grass behold her sit;
Reluctant from her couch to flit,
Though the stout mower's whistling blade
Incautious her abode invade,
And threaten, 'mid the falling heap,
Away herself and brood to sweep!
The Partridge ill-secur'd molest!
Deep in the grass behold her sit;
Reluctant from her couch to flit,
Though the stout mower's whistling blade
Incautious her abode invade,
And threaten, 'mid the falling heap,
Away herself and brood to sweep!
Rous'd from her humble pallet, mark!
Up starts alarm'd the brooding Lark:
And round and round her dwelling flies
With fluttering wings and plaintive cries.
Up starts alarm'd the brooding Lark:
And round and round her dwelling flies
With fluttering wings and plaintive cries.
And, hark! with oft repeated wail,
Heard but not seen, the restless Rail
For her low home forbearance begs!
Scarce issued from the ruptur'd eggs,
Swift through the scatter'd morning dew
The young their fleeting dam pursue.
In pity spare them! Lest trepann'd,
Though cherish'd by your fondling hand,
Bereav'd the captive birds decline,
And for their dam and freedom pine!
Heard but not seen, the restless Rail
For her low home forbearance begs!
Scarce issued from the ruptur'd eggs,
Swift through the scatter'd morning dew
The young their fleeting dam pursue.
In pity spare them! Lest trepann'd,
Though cherish'd by your fondling hand,
Bereav'd the captive birds decline,
And for their dam and freedom pine!
Here the blithe hamlet's gather'd throng,
With toothed rake and forked prong,
Maidens and boys, in order due
The mower's ridgy track pursue;
Turn with just care the tedded hay
Alternate to the mellowing ray;
Or loosely o'er the sunny mead
The scatter'd rows promiscuous spread;
Or what may fill the rounded lap
In smaller heaps collected wrap;
Or in more broad and loftier piles
Build the rich produce: while with smiles
At hand the joyous farmer eyes,
Safe from the assault of lowering skies,
O'er the throng'd field to stature grown
Complete the haycock's tawny cone.
With toothed rake and forked prong,
Maidens and boys, in order due
The mower's ridgy track pursue;
Turn with just care the tedded hay
Alternate to the mellowing ray;
Or loosely o'er the sunny mead
The scatter'd rows promiscuous spread;
216
In smaller heaps collected wrap;
Or in more broad and loftier piles
Build the rich produce: while with smiles
At hand the joyous farmer eyes,
Safe from the assault of lowering skies,
O'er the throng'd field to stature grown
Complete the haycock's tawny cone.
And there the toiling horses strain
Slowly to move the ponderous wain.
From pile to pile the slow wain goes:—
And still at each more lofty grows,
While the stout swains below supply
Fresh fardels to the swains on high,
Heaps upon heaps, the grassy load:
Thence, lumbering o'er the homeward road,
It swells, adorn'd with trophied bough,
The rick compact, or treasur'd mow.
Slowly to move the ponderous wain.
From pile to pile the slow wain goes:—
And still at each more lofty grows,
While the stout swains below supply
Fresh fardels to the swains on high,
Heaps upon heaps, the grassy load:
Thence, lumbering o'er the homeward road,
It swells, adorn'd with trophied bough,
The rick compact, or treasur'd mow.
Nor want there objects of delight,
To charm, together with the sight,
The ear and smell: of peerless scent
The new-cut herbage redolent,
Chief from the stem of vernal grass,
Confest for sweetness to surpass
The woodruff's Eden-blowing breath;
And sweeping through the yielding swathe
With rushing sound, or the shrill tone
Re-echoing of the sharpening hone
Now and again, the mower's scythe;
The village maiden's carol blithe;
The village story circling round;
And shout, and laughter's jocund sound,
And, join'd to voice of guiding swain,
The rumbling of the loaded wain.
To charm, together with the sight,
The ear and smell: of peerless scent
The new-cut herbage redolent,
Chief from the stem of vernal grass,
Confest for sweetness to surpass
The woodruff's Eden-blowing breath;
And sweeping through the yielding swathe
With rushing sound, or the shrill tone
Re-echoing of the sharpening hone
Now and again, the mower's scythe;
The village maiden's carol blithe;
The village story circling round;
And shout, and laughter's jocund sound,
217
The rumbling of the loaded wain.
Nor wants there, what may well engage
The mind reflecting; if, a page
Of nature's book here open thrown,
We wish by care to make our own
Its rich contents; and scrutinise
Discreetly with botanick eyes
The clover's many-cluster'd head
Of winged blossoms, white or red:
And, each according to his kind,
The grassy tribes by God design'd
For use of bird, of beast, of man,
Unmark'd by casual glance. But scan,
Ascending from the fibrous root,
Joint after joint, the juicy shoot,
The stalk, the leaf, the waving plume,
The sheltering husk, the fruitful bloom,
And last the swelling seed; and say,
Though little deck'd by colours gay,
If plainer sample, or more fair,
Of pow'r, contrivance, wisdom, care,
Appeal to man's considerate sense,
And, ruling all, benevolence,
Than nature's lowliest children yield,
The grass and herbage of the field.
The mind reflecting; if, a page
Of nature's book here open thrown,
We wish by care to make our own
Its rich contents; and scrutinise
Discreetly with botanick eyes
The clover's many-cluster'd head
Of winged blossoms, white or red:
And, each according to his kind,
The grassy tribes by God design'd
For use of bird, of beast, of man,
Unmark'd by casual glance. But scan,
Ascending from the fibrous root,
Joint after joint, the juicy shoot,
The stalk, the leaf, the waving plume,
The sheltering husk, the fruitful bloom,
And last the swelling seed; and say,
Though little deck'd by colours gay,
If plainer sample, or more fair,
Of pow'r, contrivance, wisdom, care,
Appeal to man's considerate sense,
And, ruling all, benevolence,
Than nature's lowliest children yield,
The grass and herbage of the field.
Sheep returning from the shearing. Shepherd and Sheep-dog. Upland Sheep-fold. Wild Thyme and Squinancy Wort. Mushrooms and Puff-balls. Fairy Rings. Why so called. Weakness of the human mind. Origin of belief in Fairies, &c. Still objects of ignorant belief
'Tis pleasant on the upland crown,
Or slope side of the russet down,
Where tracks of pointed feet indent,
Line above line, the steep ascent,
To see the sheep gregarious pass
Close-serried in a moving mass
Of whiteness like the drifted snow.
Wash'd in the cleansing pool below,
No more a spoil to tangling thorn
Or bramble, by the shearer shorn
With skilfull eye and motion true,
The barn their whiten'd fleeces strew.
So, quick of step, with noisy bleat,
And trampling of the cloven feet,
Compact they hill-ward mount, and range
The well-known upland haunt. Though strange
At first, nor each its fellow knows,
Stript of their garb, that oft by blows
And butting of the hostile head
The shepherd mourns some favourite dead.
Now re-assur'd, and following well
The tinkling of the wonted bell,
The leader's sign, their way they wend
Contented. On their course attend
The faithful swain, their guard and guide;
Nor less the faithful dog beside,
With sense akin to reason fraught,
And ever prompt with watchful thought,
If heedless straggler from the way
Or loitering lag, or rambling stray,
To seek and lead the waif aright
With warning bark, and fangless bite.
Or slope side of the russet down,
Where tracks of pointed feet indent,
Line above line, the steep ascent,
218
Close-serried in a moving mass
Of whiteness like the drifted snow.
Wash'd in the cleansing pool below,
No more a spoil to tangling thorn
Or bramble, by the shearer shorn
With skilfull eye and motion true,
The barn their whiten'd fleeces strew.
So, quick of step, with noisy bleat,
And trampling of the cloven feet,
Compact they hill-ward mount, and range
The well-known upland haunt. Though strange
At first, nor each its fellow knows,
Stript of their garb, that oft by blows
And butting of the hostile head
The shepherd mourns some favourite dead.
Now re-assur'd, and following well
The tinkling of the wonted bell,
The leader's sign, their way they wend
Contented. On their course attend
The faithful swain, their guard and guide;
Nor less the faithful dog beside,
With sense akin to reason fraught,
And ever prompt with watchful thought,
If heedless straggler from the way
Or loitering lag, or rambling stray,
To seek and lead the waif aright
With warning bark, and fangless bite.
Say, shall we mount the hill, and note
The shepherd plant his wattled cote,
Prepar'd in that protecting hold
The congregated flock to fold
At evening due? The healthful gale,
The prospect of the extended vale,
The village group, the Saxon tower,
The village pastor's pleasant bower,
And seen far off the sparkling sea,
(Ah, Buriton, my thoughts on thee,
Returning dwell!) will well repay
The toil, if toilsome be the way.
And prest beneath the climbing feet,
The wild thyme there its fragrance sweet,
As with the Squincey's lilac crown
It creeps along the chalky down,
Will yield to gratify the smell.
And, past philosophy to tell
The occasion, if from force it flow
Electrick, or the soil below,
Or starlings there have left imprest
Strange symptoms of their place of rest;
Whate'er the cause, the turf-clad height
Inlaid will gratify the sight,
In form of many a dark green round
Imprinted on the lighter ground,
Where the short sward the mushrooms gem
With flatten'd head and upright stem,
And scatter'd thick the puff-ball springs;
And peasants call them “fairy rings.”
For there, 'twas thought, the tiny throng,
With “roundel and with fairy song ,”
Held their light revels on the green,
In rings about their elfin queen:
There left their footsteps, as they trod,
Indented on the sunken sod;
Nor fail'd at times their “orbs” anew
To water with refreshing “dew.”
The shepherd plant his wattled cote,
Prepar'd in that protecting hold
The congregated flock to fold
219
The prospect of the extended vale,
The village group, the Saxon tower,
The village pastor's pleasant bower,
And seen far off the sparkling sea,
(Ah, Buriton, my thoughts on thee,
Returning dwell!) will well repay
The toil, if toilsome be the way.
And prest beneath the climbing feet,
The wild thyme there its fragrance sweet,
As with the Squincey's lilac crown
It creeps along the chalky down,
Will yield to gratify the smell.
And, past philosophy to tell
The occasion, if from force it flow
Electrick, or the soil below,
Or starlings there have left imprest
Strange symptoms of their place of rest;
Whate'er the cause, the turf-clad height
Inlaid will gratify the sight,
In form of many a dark green round
Imprinted on the lighter ground,
Where the short sward the mushrooms gem
With flatten'd head and upright stem,
And scatter'd thick the puff-ball springs;
And peasants call them “fairy rings.”
For there, 'twas thought, the tiny throng,
With “roundel and with fairy song ,”
Held their light revels on the green,
In rings about their elfin queen:
220
Indented on the sunken sod;
Nor fail'd at times their “orbs” anew
To water with refreshing “dew.”
Strange passion of the human mind!
Which, impotent a cause to find
For things that meet the wondering sight,
To some unseen and secret might
Refers them, and invents a name,
Which those mysterious works may claim.
Hence fairies, genii, goblin sprites,
The dreaming fancy's fond delights!
As if whate'er we hear or see,
Wrapt in a cloud of mystery,
That our pent vision seeks in vain
The hidden mystery to explain,
Were past the scope of nature's laws,
And lack'd a preternatural cause!
Which, impotent a cause to find
For things that meet the wondering sight,
To some unseen and secret might
Refers them, and invents a name,
Which those mysterious works may claim.
Hence fairies, genii, goblin sprites,
The dreaming fancy's fond delights!
As if whate'er we hear or see,
Wrapt in a cloud of mystery,
That our pent vision seeks in vain
The hidden mystery to explain,
Were past the scope of nature's laws,
And lack'd a preternatural cause!
Strange that such passion still should blind,
As blind it does, the human mind,
Despite of reason's beams, despite
The fulness of celestial light!
That Christians still, in darkling dream
Of heathen ignorance, should deem,
That still the fairies dance and sing
All sportive in the moon-light ring,
On the green mountain's solitude:
Or fitful, in their angry mood,
If rash unthinking mortal chance
To name their name, with noxious glance
Vindictive of the eye malign
Mark him aslant; or on his kine
Their air-shot bolts unpitying cast,
And smite them with the blighting blast!
As blind it does, the human mind,
Despite of reason's beams, despite
The fulness of celestial light!
That Christians still, in darkling dream
Of heathen ignorance, should deem,
That still the fairies dance and sing
All sportive in the moon-light ring,
On the green mountain's solitude:
Or fitful, in their angry mood,
If rash unthinking mortal chance
To name their name, with noxious glance
Vindictive of the eye malign
Mark him aslant; or on his kine
221
And smite them with the blighting blast!
Evening. Its softness and sweetness. May flies. Chaffers. Glow-worm. White Owl. Effect of superstition. Gradual silence of the birds. Late singers. Thrush. Woodlark. Swallow
And goodly now the hour of eve!
When the great sun begins to leave,
Or just has left, his bright career;
And sailing through the fading sphere,
Pale Twilight draws of sober hue,
With fingers soft and dipt in dew,
O'er nature's face a shadowy veil.
The flowers a sweeter scent exhale;
And misty meads around convey
More fresh the fume of new-mown hay.
When the great sun begins to leave,
Or just has left, his bright career;
And sailing through the fading sphere,
Pale Twilight draws of sober hue,
With fingers soft and dipt in dew,
O'er nature's face a shadowy veil.
The flowers a sweeter scent exhale;
And misty meads around convey
More fresh the fume of new-mown hay.
Mark you the crowds on yonder stream?
'Tis there the filmy Mayflies gleam
Ephemeral: of shortest date
'Mong living things their winged state;
Which first the western sunbeam brings
To life: and if their buoyant wings
So long the eager trout defy,
Before the noon of night they die.
But what to an eternal age
Is man's most lengthen'd pilgrimage?
Still with rapacious foes at strife,
A fleeting Mayfly's six hours' life.
'Tis there the filmy Mayflies gleam
Ephemeral: of shortest date
'Mong living things their winged state;
Which first the western sunbeam brings
To life: and if their buoyant wings
So long the eager trout defy,
Before the noon of night they die.
But what to an eternal age
Is man's most lengthen'd pilgrimage?
Still with rapacious foes at strife,
A fleeting Mayfly's six hours' life.
Heard you from yon dark alley come
The Chaffer's deep and drowsy hum?
Not musical: but apt to find
A welcome in the dreamy mind
Of lonely bard, tho' dearly paid
By ravage of the greenwood shade,
Stript of its tender foliage fair,
And left with fibrous network bare.
The Chaffer's deep and drowsy hum?
Not musical: but apt to find
A welcome in the dreamy mind
Of lonely bard, tho' dearly paid
By ravage of the greenwood shade,
222
And left with fibrous network bare.
To greet her lover, through the dark
The Glowworm shows her brilliant spark,
Enlightening, till the midnight shade,
On the dim bank each neighbouring blade:
Thence borrow'd by the playful boy
To grace his hat, the gem-like toy
Shines with a liquid radiance bright;
As emerald green, or diamond white,
Which with imperial splendour deck
The highborn female's marble neck.
The Glowworm shows her brilliant spark,
Enlightening, till the midnight shade,
On the dim bank each neighbouring blade:
Thence borrow'd by the playful boy
To grace his hat, the gem-like toy
Shines with a liquid radiance bright;
As emerald green, or diamond white,
Which with imperial splendour deck
The highborn female's marble neck.
And see from solitary bower,
In barn or ancient hallowed tower,
The flame-bright Owl comes forth to feed!
Lo, as he skirts the hedge-girt mead,
Intent to seize and bear away
The lurking mouse, his nestlings' prey,
Along he steals with noiseless flight:
But oft his waving pinions white,
Seen dimly, and sepulchral skreech
From the dark wood of oak or beech,
Give to the eye and startled ear
Fancies of fearful spectres drear.
On the degraded mind of yore
Such empire Superstition bore;
Nor yet extinct have past away
The traces of her gloomy sway!
When once enslav'd, how slight a cause
The mind to closer bondage draws;
That common sights, and harmless, change
To baneful signs and visions strange;
And nature's daily round presents
Omens of ill, and dire portents!
In barn or ancient hallowed tower,
The flame-bright Owl comes forth to feed!
Lo, as he skirts the hedge-girt mead,
Intent to seize and bear away
The lurking mouse, his nestlings' prey,
Along he steals with noiseless flight:
But oft his waving pinions white,
Seen dimly, and sepulchral skreech
From the dark wood of oak or beech,
Give to the eye and startled ear
Fancies of fearful spectres drear.
On the degraded mind of yore
Such empire Superstition bore;
Nor yet extinct have past away
The traces of her gloomy sway!
When once enslav'd, how slight a cause
The mind to closer bondage draws;
That common sights, and harmless, change
To baneful signs and visions strange;
223
Omens of ill, and dire portents!
The little songsters by degrees
Are roosting in their leafy trees,
Or roof-built mansions, one by one,
Soon as their evening orison,
Or what in fancy's pleasing dream
Their evening orison may seem,
Is chanted! Save that voice is heard
Now and again of wakeful bird
Low twittering, ere they sink to rest:
Of all the latest and the best,
Whose warble with the evening ends,
His varied notes the Throstle blends:
Unless perchance on balanc'd wings
High in mid air the Woodlark sings,
And on the nightfall's precincts late
Soothes with sweet lay his brooding mate:
Or on fleet wing with sharp shrill cry
The Swallow wheels yet sleepless by,
Still gathering with parental zeal
Her helpless nursling's evening meal.
Are roosting in their leafy trees,
Or roof-built mansions, one by one,
Soon as their evening orison,
Or what in fancy's pleasing dream
Their evening orison may seem,
Is chanted! Save that voice is heard
Now and again of wakeful bird
Low twittering, ere they sink to rest:
Of all the latest and the best,
Whose warble with the evening ends,
His varied notes the Throstle blends:
Unless perchance on balanc'd wings
High in mid air the Woodlark sings,
And on the nightfall's precincts late
Soothes with sweet lay his brooding mate:
Or on fleet wing with sharp shrill cry
The Swallow wheels yet sleepless by,
Still gathering with parental zeal
Her helpless nursling's evening meal.
Night. Evening Star. Principal Summer Constellations. The Moon. Night-birds. The Nightingale. Crake. Tawny Owl. Cuckoo. Sedge-bird. Soon succeeded by day-birds. Morning Incense of flowers. Lesson for man
How goodly too the hour of night!
When the great sun from mortal sight
Is vanish'd; and the evening star,
Attendant on his fiery car,
Gives signal to the heavenly host.
They, each in order due, as most
Resplendent, to the sign reply.
But of the host, which now on high
Each after each successive ope
Their watch towers in the azure cope,
Nor Eagle's breast, nor Scorpion's sting,
Nor the bright Lyre with golden string,
Eastward; nor verging to the west,
The Lion's heart, Arcturus' crest,
Nor that spike-bearing Maiden shines,
Nor fairest of the Zenith signs,
The radiant Chaplet of the north,
Like Hesper: till the Moon walk forth
In brightness, heav'n's unrivall'd Queen,
All silver, through the blue serene,
And dim each lesser light, and throw
O'er the green earth her pall of snow.
When the great sun from mortal sight
Is vanish'd; and the evening star,
Attendant on his fiery car,
Gives signal to the heavenly host.
They, each in order due, as most
Resplendent, to the sign reply.
But of the host, which now on high
224
Their watch towers in the azure cope,
Nor Eagle's breast, nor Scorpion's sting,
Nor the bright Lyre with golden string,
Eastward; nor verging to the west,
The Lion's heart, Arcturus' crest,
Nor that spike-bearing Maiden shines,
Nor fairest of the Zenith signs,
The radiant Chaplet of the north,
Like Hesper: till the Moon walk forth
In brightness, heav'n's unrivall'd Queen,
All silver, through the blue serene,
And dim each lesser light, and throw
O'er the green earth her pall of snow.
And now the sweet love-dittied tale,
By others stopt, the Nightingale
Takes up, nor all the midnight long
Surceases the thick-warbled song:
Alone; unless the restless Crake
The cornfield's placid stillness break,
Untuneful; or the tawny Owl
Forth from the branching fir-wood prowl,
And with harsh scream or clamorous hoot
Alarm the pigeon's crowded cote;
Or the loud Cuckoo rambling round
His still repeated call resound;
Or in the reeds or tufted sedge,
From marsh or river's moonlight edge,
The mimick numbers wildly float,
Pour'd from the wakeful Sedge-bird's throat.
Till, not long past the noon of night,
Awake before the awaken'd light,
The birds of day resume the strain,
And hail the lovely dawn again.
And waken'd by that lovely dawn,
In bowery brake or open lawn,
And bathed with drops of freshening dew,
The plants and flow'rs breathe forth anew
Their incense through the morning skies;
And with the choral symphonies
Of chanting birds unite to raise
Their silent sacrifice of praise.
O ever be such union mine!
Thus each successive morn to join
With anthem, as of woodland bowers,
The fragrant offering of the flowers;
Of grateful praise the vocal part
With the still incense of the heart!
By others stopt, the Nightingale
Takes up, nor all the midnight long
Surceases the thick-warbled song:
Alone; unless the restless Crake
The cornfield's placid stillness break,
Untuneful; or the tawny Owl
Forth from the branching fir-wood prowl,
And with harsh scream or clamorous hoot
Alarm the pigeon's crowded cote;
Or the loud Cuckoo rambling round
His still repeated call resound;
Or in the reeds or tufted sedge,
From marsh or river's moonlight edge,
The mimick numbers wildly float,
Pour'd from the wakeful Sedge-bird's throat.
Till, not long past the noon of night,
Awake before the awaken'd light,
225
And hail the lovely dawn again.
And waken'd by that lovely dawn,
In bowery brake or open lawn,
And bathed with drops of freshening dew,
The plants and flow'rs breathe forth anew
Their incense through the morning skies;
And with the choral symphonies
Of chanting birds unite to raise
Their silent sacrifice of praise.
O ever be such union mine!
Thus each successive morn to join
With anthem, as of woodland bowers,
The fragrant offering of the flowers;
Of grateful praise the vocal part
With the still incense of the heart!
Principle of vegetative life active. Fruits ripening, Fresh Flowers appearing. June abundant in Flowers. Select examples. Impossibility of enumerating all.
Of essence strong, in action rife,
Is still the principle of life,
Which circulates through every vein
Of nature's vegetable reign:
Which gives to June the part to play
Of step-sire to the race of May;
Which gives the summertide to bring
To forwardness the flow'rs of spring;
To fit the vernal blossom'd shoot
For ripeness in the autumnal fruit;
And the bright store already blown
Augment with treasures of its own.
Is still the principle of life,
Which circulates through every vein
Of nature's vegetable reign:
Which gives to June the part to play
Of step-sire to the race of May;
Which gives the summertide to bring
To forwardness the flow'rs of spring;
To fit the vernal blossom'd shoot
For ripeness in the autumnal fruit;
And the bright store already blown
Augment with treasures of its own.
For many an autumn fruit is now
Maturing on the summer bough,
Which springtide in her genial hour
Invested with the embryo flower.
And many a later flower, decreed
To ripe its fruit, and yield its seed,
Is now withal by nature boon
Put forth to grace the sunny June.
Maturing on the summer bough,
226
Invested with the embryo flower.
And many a later flower, decreed
To ripe its fruit, and yield its seed,
Is now withal by nature boon
Put forth to grace the sunny June.
Spring is the season deem'd of flowers:
And May by common suffrage showers
Most largely on the smiling earth
The blooming year's prolifick birth.
And true it is, with greater show
Does May of vernal beauty blow,
Chief in the copse's berried race,
The orchard's wealth, the shrubbery's grace,
That scarce the least instructed eye
Could pass her charms unnoticed by.
Yet he, who hies him forth intent
To ramble, and, where'er besprent,
Uncultur'd nature's tribes explore,
And add to his botanick store;
Will find, perhaps, though largely May
Enrich'd him, still a larger prey
Will June's unsparing month confer,
To swell his floral calendar.
And May by common suffrage showers
Most largely on the smiling earth
The blooming year's prolifick birth.
And true it is, with greater show
Does May of vernal beauty blow,
Chief in the copse's berried race,
The orchard's wealth, the shrubbery's grace,
That scarce the least instructed eye
Could pass her charms unnoticed by.
Yet he, who hies him forth intent
To ramble, and, where'er besprent,
Uncultur'd nature's tribes explore,
And add to his botanick store;
Will find, perhaps, though largely May
Enrich'd him, still a larger prey
Will June's unsparing month confer,
To swell his floral calendar.
Would you, prepar'd at your command,
The Muse should lead you by the hand,
Where June's fresh opening flow'rs reside?
Unwilling else, lest not allied
To hers, your taste perchance may deem
Unkindly of her favour'd theme;
Yet, if you think not scorn, a few
She'll pluck and offer to your view,
Not all in crowd promiscuous thrown,
But such as praise peculiar own,
For curious shape, or colours fair,
Or use, or presence strange and rare.
For who would sing the flow'rs of June,
Though from gray morn to blazing noon,
From blazing noon to dewy eve,
The chaplet of his song he weave,
Would find the summer daylight fail,
And leave half told the pleasing tale.
The Muse should lead you by the hand,
Where June's fresh opening flow'rs reside?
Unwilling else, lest not allied
To hers, your taste perchance may deem
Unkindly of her favour'd theme;
Yet, if you think not scorn, a few
She'll pluck and offer to your view,
227
But such as praise peculiar own,
For curious shape, or colours fair,
Or use, or presence strange and rare.
For who would sing the flow'rs of June,
Though from gray morn to blazing noon,
From blazing noon to dewy eve,
The chaplet of his song he weave,
Would find the summer daylight fail,
And leave half told the pleasing tale.
Grasses. Specimens from Meadows; Cornfields; Roadsides; Hedges; Banks; Walls; Upland Thickets; Commons and Wastes; Mountains; Salt Marshes; Moors and Fens; Pools of Water; Streams
And see at hand the blossom'd Grass,
Triandrous: too profuse a class
For subject of poetick pen;
Yet well do they deserve the ken
Intent of microscopick eye,
Their structure, parts, and form to spy,
Each kind and sort. But passing these,
Well boots it the thick-mantled leas
To traverse: if boon nature grant
To crop the insect-seeming plant
The vegetable Bee; or nigh
Of kin, the long-horn'd Butterfly,
White, or his brother purple pale,
Scenting alike the evening gale:
The Satyr-flow'r, the pride of Kent,
Of lizard form, and goat-like scent;
Scarce found, the purple Meadow-Sage,
Unless on floral pilgrimage
Your steps fair Surrey's leas explore,
Or the south Saxon's lowly shore;
With rounded leaves of finest green,
The Mantle of our Lady-Queen;
And Coxcombs, whose tall stems produce
Light empty heads of little use.
Triandrous: too profuse a class
For subject of poetick pen;
Yet well do they deserve the ken
Intent of microscopick eye,
Their structure, parts, and form to spy,
Each kind and sort. But passing these,
Well boots it the thick-mantled leas
To traverse: if boon nature grant
To crop the insect-seeming plant
The vegetable Bee; or nigh
Of kin, the long-horn'd Butterfly,
White, or his brother purple pale,
Scenting alike the evening gale:
The Satyr-flow'r, the pride of Kent,
Of lizard form, and goat-like scent;
Scarce found, the purple Meadow-Sage,
Unless on floral pilgrimage
Your steps fair Surrey's leas explore,
Or the south Saxon's lowly shore;
228
The Mantle of our Lady-Queen;
And Coxcombs, whose tall stems produce
Light empty heads of little use.
Then will the corn or pastur'd field
The Scabious' purple tussocks yield;
Pink Centory; with radiate head
Blue Cornflow'r; sleepy Poppy red:
Madder with azure stars beset;
Tall Cockle's purple coronet;
Blue Larkspur's dragon lip, the pride
Of hills by Granta's classick side;
The climbing Snakeweed, apt to roam;
The Pheasant's eye; the Shepherd's comb;
Greenweed, whose bright and yellow die
Shines peerless in the clothier's eye;
And Limewort's stem, with clammy hair
Beset, the fly's tenacious snare,
Our southern boast, whence northward borne
Its flow'rs the trim parterre adorn.
The Scabious' purple tussocks yield;
Pink Centory; with radiate head
Blue Cornflow'r; sleepy Poppy red:
Madder with azure stars beset;
Tall Cockle's purple coronet;
Blue Larkspur's dragon lip, the pride
Of hills by Granta's classick side;
The climbing Snakeweed, apt to roam;
The Pheasant's eye; the Shepherd's comb;
Greenweed, whose bright and yellow die
Shines peerless in the clothier's eye;
And Limewort's stem, with clammy hair
Beset, the fly's tenacious snare,
Our southern boast, whence northward borne
Its flow'rs the trim parterre adorn.
Or would you deign, as who that wooes
Boon nature's favours, would refuse
The dusty pathway-side to try
Or rubbish heap? With bright blue eye
Your pains the Bugloss will repay;
And fam'd for driving care away,
Dipt in a broader, brighter blue,
Rough Borage; and with mingled hue
Of purple, blue, and brilliant red,
Tho' spurn'd beneath the passing tread,
Prickly and harsh, with tints that pass
The garden's pride, the Viper grass.
With yellow blooms on downy cone,
Part spread, and part as yet unblown,
Tall Mullein; and the plant, that breaks
Its paler red with darker streaks,
The Mallow shall repay your pains:
Houndstongue; and laced with purple veins
Fair to the sight, but by the smell
Unpriz'd, the Henbane's straw-ting'd bell
With danger pregnant. But more full
Of danger, dark of hue, and dull
Of aspect, near with purple flowers
Perchance the Deadly Nightshade lowers.
Look, if you will: but ah, beware,
Nor lur'd by specious beauty dare
To taste the poisonous berry fell!
Vain were each magick charm and spell,
Of old by white-robed Druid tried,
With Vervain bough that blooms beside;
Vain were each salutary root,
Each pungent juice, emetick fruit,
To break the lulling stupor deep,
And rouse you from that mortal sleep!
Boon nature's favours, would refuse
The dusty pathway-side to try
Or rubbish heap? With bright blue eye
Your pains the Bugloss will repay;
And fam'd for driving care away,
Dipt in a broader, brighter blue,
Rough Borage; and with mingled hue
Of purple, blue, and brilliant red,
Tho' spurn'd beneath the passing tread,
229
The garden's pride, the Viper grass.
With yellow blooms on downy cone,
Part spread, and part as yet unblown,
Tall Mullein; and the plant, that breaks
Its paler red with darker streaks,
The Mallow shall repay your pains:
Houndstongue; and laced with purple veins
Fair to the sight, but by the smell
Unpriz'd, the Henbane's straw-ting'd bell
With danger pregnant. But more full
Of danger, dark of hue, and dull
Of aspect, near with purple flowers
Perchance the Deadly Nightshade lowers.
Look, if you will: but ah, beware,
Nor lur'd by specious beauty dare
To taste the poisonous berry fell!
Vain were each magick charm and spell,
Of old by white-robed Druid tried,
With Vervain bough that blooms beside;
Vain were each salutary root,
Each pungent juice, emetick fruit,
To break the lulling stupor deep,
And rouse you from that mortal sleep!
Along the field's or meadow's edge,
Mix'd with the hawthorn's verdant hedge,
Where flaunts the Honeysuckle gay
Wak'd by the earlier breath of May,
Their breasts to warmer June disclose
The Sweet-briar and the wilding Rose,
That darker, this of hue more pale,
Each crimson; nor does Britain hail
A rival flower, where blended meet
A form more fair, a smell more sweet.
There of white flowers the Cornel red
Puts forth his flat and tufted head;
And Privet singly his, between
His new-sprung foliage evergreen.
With tendrils of the wilding Vine
The Dewberry and Bramble twine;
And slender Bryony that weaves
His pale green flow'rs and glossy leaves
Aloft in smooth and lithe festoons;
And crown'd compact with yellow cones
'Mid purple petals dropt with green,
The Woody Nightshade climbs between:
To that fell plant of poisonous fame
In kind unlike, though like in name;
Akin to Erin's mealy root,
And oft its sweet and bitter shoot
Has science sought, nor sought in vain,
To cleanse the blood and soften pain.
Mix'd with the hawthorn's verdant hedge,
Where flaunts the Honeysuckle gay
Wak'd by the earlier breath of May,
Their breasts to warmer June disclose
The Sweet-briar and the wilding Rose,
That darker, this of hue more pale,
Each crimson; nor does Britain hail
230
A form more fair, a smell more sweet.
There of white flowers the Cornel red
Puts forth his flat and tufted head;
And Privet singly his, between
His new-sprung foliage evergreen.
With tendrils of the wilding Vine
The Dewberry and Bramble twine;
And slender Bryony that weaves
His pale green flow'rs and glossy leaves
Aloft in smooth and lithe festoons;
And crown'd compact with yellow cones
'Mid purple petals dropt with green,
The Woody Nightshade climbs between:
To that fell plant of poisonous fame
In kind unlike, though like in name;
Akin to Erin's mealy root,
And oft its sweet and bitter shoot
Has science sought, nor sought in vain,
To cleanse the blood and soften pain.
And there beneath perchance you'll find,
Still like in name, unlike in kind,
Distinguish'd that of old its part
It bore in necromantick art,
Half-veil'd another Nightshade peep:
And there the Ladies' Bedstraw creep
With countless store of starlike eyes,
Yellow or white: and whence arise
By care to better nature grown,
Diffuse with umbellated crown,
Sweet Chervil's cottage-valued weed,
And Coriander's spicy seed;
The garden's culinary crop,
Carrot and Parsnep: with the Hop,
Which here his barren blossom leads,
The fruitful there: above the weeds,
With purple speck'd their bloom of gold,
Their leaves with lucid spots, of old
Effectual deem'd to drive to flight
Or demon foul, or phantom sprite;
More apt the drop distill'd to tinge
With essence from that purple fringe,
Graced with the name of good Saint John;
Of Britain's tribes the only one,
With anthers manifold indued,
Link'd in a threefold brotherhood.
Still like in name, unlike in kind,
Distinguish'd that of old its part
It bore in necromantick art,
Half-veil'd another Nightshade peep:
And there the Ladies' Bedstraw creep
With countless store of starlike eyes,
Yellow or white: and whence arise
By care to better nature grown,
Diffuse with umbellated crown,
Sweet Chervil's cottage-valued weed,
And Coriander's spicy seed;
231
Carrot and Parsnep: with the Hop,
Which here his barren blossom leads,
The fruitful there: above the weeds,
With purple speck'd their bloom of gold,
Their leaves with lucid spots, of old
Effectual deem'd to drive to flight
Or demon foul, or phantom sprite;
More apt the drop distill'd to tinge
With essence from that purple fringe,
Graced with the name of good Saint John;
Of Britain's tribes the only one,
With anthers manifold indued,
Link'd in a threefold brotherhood.
See on the cultur'd garden's bound,
Or antique battlemented mound
Which girds some castled steep aloof,
Or lowly peasant's peaceful roof,
The Stonecrop spreads a mantle bright,
Like cloth of gold, or silver white,
Powder'd with spots of garnet red:
Snap-dragon tall, with roseate head,
And yellow mouth's elastick spring:
Flesh-tinted Pinks, whose petals fling,
Still more, when train'd to higher powers
Among the garden's fairest flowers,
Sweet fragrance on the enamour'd gale:
And Navelwort, of yellow pale,
Bell-blossom'd; and more rare and tall,
Its brother plant, that crowns the wall
With golden spike erect, the boast
Of spacious Yorkshire's western coast.
Or antique battlemented mound
Which girds some castled steep aloof,
Or lowly peasant's peaceful roof,
The Stonecrop spreads a mantle bright,
Like cloth of gold, or silver white,
Powder'd with spots of garnet red:
Snap-dragon tall, with roseate head,
And yellow mouth's elastick spring:
Flesh-tinted Pinks, whose petals fling,
Still more, when train'd to higher powers
Among the garden's fairest flowers,
Sweet fragrance on the enamour'd gale:
And Navelwort, of yellow pale,
Bell-blossom'd; and more rare and tall,
Its brother plant, that crowns the wall
With golden spike erect, the boast
Of spacious Yorkshire's western coast.
232
And see of favour'd York the child,
Or Derby's mountain thickets wild,
The plant, not strange to Scottish skies,
Whose leafits, ladder-like, arise,
Pointing to azure vaults above,
The patriarch's dream, in southern grove
Unfrequent. Nor does southern wood
Put forth like Alpine solitude
Of northern fells, Hebridean isles,
Or Scotia's bosky glens, the styles
Produc'd, their bended chives between,
And pear-like leaves of Wintergreen:
The southern wood to pay your care
More likely, if you follow there
The spiky whirls of Cow-wheat drest
With gold and purple mingled crest:
Or, springing from the root-heav'd ground,
That parasitick stranger found
Within the pine or beechwood shade,
The yellow Birdsnest, through the glade
Breathing from many a ripen'd bell
The vernal primrose' fragrant smell.
Or Derby's mountain thickets wild,
The plant, not strange to Scottish skies,
Whose leafits, ladder-like, arise,
Pointing to azure vaults above,
The patriarch's dream, in southern grove
Unfrequent. Nor does southern wood
Put forth like Alpine solitude
Of northern fells, Hebridean isles,
Or Scotia's bosky glens, the styles
Produc'd, their bended chives between,
And pear-like leaves of Wintergreen:
The southern wood to pay your care
More likely, if you follow there
The spiky whirls of Cow-wheat drest
With gold and purple mingled crest:
Or, springing from the root-heav'd ground,
That parasitick stranger found
Within the pine or beechwood shade,
The yellow Birdsnest, through the glade
Breathing from many a ripen'd bell
The vernal primrose' fragrant smell.
With crowds of bell-like blossoms graced,
And linear leaves, the barren waste
Displays its varied Heaths, and glows
With blaze of purple, pink, and rose.
And linear leaves, the barren waste
Displays its varied Heaths, and glows
With blaze of purple, pink, and rose.
Its disk of white on upland wolds
The pretty Saxifrage unfolds,
With lucid spots of crimson pied,
Thence brought, and hail'd the city's Pride.
And yellow Roseroot yields its smell
From Cambrian crag, or Cumbrian fell,
Or Rachlin's lone basaltic isle:
Nor, though more rare, from Snowdon's pile
The slender Mountain Saffron fails,
Or rough Lynn Idwel's Alpine vales.
The pretty Saxifrage unfolds,
With lucid spots of crimson pied,
Thence brought, and hail'd the city's Pride.
And yellow Roseroot yields its smell
From Cambrian crag, or Cumbrian fell,
233
Nor, though more rare, from Snowdon's pile
The slender Mountain Saffron fails,
Or rough Lynn Idwel's Alpine vales.
Where the salt marsh the surges lave,
With leaves that match the beryll wave
For greenness, see, of wholsome juice
The little Saltwort's stem profuse
Present its flow'rs of roseate hue:
With Rocket's spikes of pinkish blue,
On zigzag stalk deform'd; and bright
Of stem, the Sandwort's florets white:
And that, which rustick neatness leads
Round the trim garden's walks and beds,
Whose globelike tufts of blossoms throw
O'er the green marsh a rosy glow,
Nor less, where Alpine regions lift
Their misty tops, the hardy Thrift,
With leaves that match the beryll wave
For greenness, see, of wholsome juice
The little Saltwort's stem profuse
Present its flow'rs of roseate hue:
With Rocket's spikes of pinkish blue,
On zigzag stalk deform'd; and bright
Of stem, the Sandwort's florets white:
And that, which rustick neatness leads
Round the trim garden's walks and beds,
Whose globelike tufts of blossoms throw
O'er the green marsh a rosy glow,
Nor less, where Alpine regions lift
Their misty tops, the hardy Thrift,
In grassy moor, or boggy fen,
Or moss-grown ditches putrid pen,
Where the dull stagnant waters dwell,
Low lurks the Chaffweed Pimpernel:
So coy, the light its blossoms shun,
Till open'd by the fiery sun;
So low of stature, that the eye
Can scarce its tiny form descry.
There named from her, whom fables feign'd
On the lone rock all friendless chain'd
The monster's fierce assault to bide;
A lovely plant 'mid desert wide,
Andromeda, so will'd the Swede;
With them, to whom for preference plead
Transmissive terms their native claim,
Wild Rosemary its homelier name,
Like one who hangs the head and grieves.
There in the pool its winged leaves
Submerged, with lilac flow'rs beset
Above, the Water Violet:
Marsh Cinquefoil, all of purple deep,
Cup, anthers, flow'r: his nectaried lip,
And petals green, with yellow line
And purple streak'd, Helleborine:
And that strange plant of curious power,
Though scarce its double-anther'd flower,
Howe'er your careful search pursue
The annual bloom, will glad your view;
The plant that from its foliage cleft
Fresh foliage breeds, to right, to left,
Which still increases more and more,
Prolifick like the first; till o'er
The liquid glass a mantling coat
Of bright continuous verdure float,
And the smooth pool the semblance wear
Transform'd of greensward fresh and fair.
Or moss-grown ditches putrid pen,
Where the dull stagnant waters dwell,
Low lurks the Chaffweed Pimpernel:
So coy, the light its blossoms shun,
Till open'd by the fiery sun;
So low of stature, that the eye
Can scarce its tiny form descry.
There named from her, whom fables feign'd
On the lone rock all friendless chain'd
The monster's fierce assault to bide;
A lovely plant 'mid desert wide,
Andromeda, so will'd the Swede;
With them, to whom for preference plead
234
Wild Rosemary its homelier name,
Like one who hangs the head and grieves.
There in the pool its winged leaves
Submerged, with lilac flow'rs beset
Above, the Water Violet:
Marsh Cinquefoil, all of purple deep,
Cup, anthers, flow'r: his nectaried lip,
And petals green, with yellow line
And purple streak'd, Helleborine:
And that strange plant of curious power,
Though scarce its double-anther'd flower,
Howe'er your careful search pursue
The annual bloom, will glad your view;
The plant that from its foliage cleft
Fresh foliage breeds, to right, to left,
Which still increases more and more,
Prolifick like the first; till o'er
The liquid glass a mantling coat
Of bright continuous verdure float,
And the smooth pool the semblance wear
Transform'd of greensward fresh and fair.
But where the living waters glide,
Bathing the summer flow'rs beside,
Behold the lucid Pondweed show
Its dark green spike above; below
The swelling stalk and wavy leaves
The river's circling breast receives.
There may the purple Avens bend
The graceful head, though oft it spend
Its sweetness on the Alpine height:
With yellow Loosestrife's clusters bright;
Tall Willowherb, with roseate blush;
With purple tinge, the flowering Rush;
Pale Meadowsweet with feathery spray,
And fragrant as the blooming May:
Blue Brooklime; and of rival die,
Mark'd with a central yellow eye,
The Mouse-ear blue: though which may claim
Of right the legendary name,
That points to absent friends the thought,
And warns you to “forget them not,”
Fair florists differ. But the Muse,
Ere she her stated theme pursues,
Would fain an instant pause to read
That old traditionary creed,
And thus in guise of minstrel verse
The tale of elder times rehearse.
Bathing the summer flow'rs beside,
Behold the lucid Pondweed show
Its dark green spike above; below
The swelling stalk and wavy leaves
The river's circling breast receives.
There may the purple Avens bend
The graceful head, though oft it spend
Its sweetness on the Alpine height:
With yellow Loosestrife's clusters bright;
235
With purple tinge, the flowering Rush;
Pale Meadowsweet with feathery spray,
And fragrant as the blooming May:
Blue Brooklime; and of rival die,
Mark'd with a central yellow eye,
The Mouse-ear blue: though which may claim
Of right the legendary name,
That points to absent friends the thought,
And warns you to “forget them not,”
Fair florists differ. But the Muse,
Ere she her stated theme pursues,
Would fain an instant pause to read
That old traditionary creed,
And thus in guise of minstrel verse
The tale of elder times rehearse.
“Forget me not.” Origin of the name. A legendary Tale of Chivalry
Together they sate by a river's side,
A knight and a lady gay,
And they watch'd the deep and eddying tide
Round a flowery islet stray.
A knight and a lady gay,
And they watch'd the deep and eddying tide
Round a flowery islet stray.
And, “Oh for that flow'r of brilliant hue,”
Said then the lady fair,
“To hang my neck with the blossoms blue,
And braid my nut-brown hair!”
Said then the lady fair,
“To hang my neck with the blossoms blue,
And braid my nut-brown hair!”
The knight has plunged in the whirling wave,
All for the lady's smile:
And he swims the stream with courage brave,
And he gains yon flowery isle.
All for the lady's smile:
And he swims the stream with courage brave,
And he gains yon flowery isle.
236
And his fingers have cropt the blossoms blue,
And the prize they backward bear;
To deck his love with the brilliant hue,
And braid her nut-brown hair.
And the prize they backward bear;
To deck his love with the brilliant hue,
And braid her nut-brown hair.
But the way is long, and the current strong,
And alas for that gallant knight!
For the waves prevail, and his stout arms fail,
Though cheer'd by his lady's sight.
And alas for that gallant knight!
For the waves prevail, and his stout arms fail,
Though cheer'd by his lady's sight.
Then the blossoms blue to the bank he threw,
Ere he sank in the eddying tide;
And “Lady, I'm gone, thine own knight true,
Forget me not,” he cried.
Ere he sank in the eddying tide;
And “Lady, I'm gone, thine own knight true,
Forget me not,” he cried.
The farewell pledge the lady caught;
And hence, as legends say,
The flow'r is a sign to awaken thought
Of friends who are far away.
And hence, as legends say,
The flow'r is a sign to awaken thought
Of friends who are far away.
For the lady fair of her knight so true
Still remember'd the hapless lot:
And she cherish'd the flow'r of brilliant hue,
And she braided her hair with the blossoms blue,
And she call'd it “Forget me not!”
Still remember'd the hapless lot:
And she cherish'd the flow'r of brilliant hue,
And she braided her hair with the blossoms blue,
And she call'd it “Forget me not!”
Young birds. Their multiplication and growth. Their excess providentially corrected. Different kinds kept in being
But if by many a blooming flower
Is mark'd bright June's progressive power,
No less by many an active wing,
Not now as in the opening spring
Hither from distant climates sped;
But from the procreative bed
Now first educed and brought to view
With being, pow'rs, and passions new,
And joyous in the first fresh sense
Of nature's boon munificence.
Is mark'd bright June's progressive power,
No less by many an active wing,
Not now as in the opening spring
237
But from the procreative bed
Now first educed and brought to view
With being, pow'rs, and passions new,
And joyous in the first fresh sense
Of nature's boon munificence.
For many a young and novel brood
Prolifick June to wold and wood
Contributes; if the parent first
Now sees the pregnant eggshell burst,
Inverted by the restless young;
Or now, with nerves successive strung,
A second race, perhaps a third,
Repays the incubating bird.
Prolifick June to wold and wood
Contributes; if the parent first
Now sees the pregnant eggshell burst,
Inverted by the restless young;
Or now, with nerves successive strung,
A second race, perhaps a third,
Repays the incubating bird.
How dense the population, see,
Of nature's general aviary!
Three moons ago, the nuptial pairs
Had but commenc'd their houshold cares.
Three moons have scarcely waned; and now
Regardful of the plighted vow,
And nature's primal law fulfill'd,
To thrive and multiply, to build
The nest, the eggs to hatch, the brood
To tend, and rear with needful food,
Till all to full-sized form are grown,
And all on full-fledg'd plumage flown,
Each holt and heath, each wood and wol,
Is thronged with numbers manifold;
That needs it now a practis'd eye
The symptoms of diversity
Between the old and young to trace,
Between the parent and the race.
How passing wonderful and strange!
How striking, great, and quick the change!
Of nature's general aviary!
Three moons ago, the nuptial pairs
Had but commenc'd their houshold cares.
Three moons have scarcely waned; and now
Regardful of the plighted vow,
And nature's primal law fulfill'd,
To thrive and multiply, to build
The nest, the eggs to hatch, the brood
To tend, and rear with needful food,
Till all to full-sized form are grown,
And all on full-fledg'd plumage flown,
Each holt and heath, each wood and wol,
Is thronged with numbers manifold;
That needs it now a practis'd eye
The symptoms of diversity
Between the old and young to trace,
Between the parent and the race.
238
How striking, great, and quick the change!
So multiplied the feather'd throng,
'Twould seem, as glide the years along,
The tribes increas'd, increasing still,
Would in few seasons more than fill
The space allotted to their kind;
And pass beyond the bounds assign'd,
Intrusive on man's lordly reign,
No more a blessing, but a bane.
'Twould seem, as glide the years along,
The tribes increas'd, increasing still,
Would in few seasons more than fill
The space allotted to their kind;
And pass beyond the bounds assign'd,
Intrusive on man's lordly reign,
No more a blessing, but a bane.
But strange and kind! the same high Power,
Which rules the procreative hour,
Forbids it with undue excess
On favour'd man's domain to press!
By means oft indistinct, and shown
To us by their results alone,
His hand maintains the balance straight,
That neither scale preponderate.
And so it is, how large soe'er
The increase of the passing year,
Of those, who winter here, nor roam
Acventurous from their native home,
Or those, who stretch the pilgrim wing,
Nor seek us till returning spring,
Enongh survive, their trust consign'd
To work; to propagate their kind;
And against the fly's rapacious host,
And reptile's, hold their guardian post;
But not enough, away to bear
More than their reasonable share
Of earth's rich gifts, nor mar the plan
Of Gods benevolence to man,
Alike in debt to bounteous heaven
For ills forborne, and mercies given.
Which rules the procreative hour,
Forbids it with undue excess
On favour'd man's domain to press!
By means oft indistinct, and shown
To us by their results alone,
His hand maintains the balance straight,
That neither scale preponderate.
And so it is, how large soe'er
The increase of the passing year,
Of those, who winter here, nor roam
Acventurous from their native home,
Or those, who stretch the pilgrim wing,
Nor seek us till returning spring,
Enongh survive, their trust consign'd
To work; to propagate their kind;
And against the fly's rapacious host,
And reptile's, hold their guardian post;
But not enough, away to bear
More than their reasonable share
Of earth's rich gifts, nor mar the plan
Of Gods benevolence to man,
239
For ills forborne, and mercies given.
Singing of birds. Motives and variety. Joyous sounds pleasing. Association. Pleasantness of the songs of birds. Most rife in mornings and evenings. Interrupted by hot-days
And strange to mark, what passions move
The feather'd songsters of the grove;
And what still varying sounds attest
The passions of each plumed breast!
Whether in early spring they feel
All potent love's delightful zeal,
Prompting each eager male to woo
A partner, and with warblings sue
Of courtship and intense desire:
Or, if with bold ambition's fire
Inflam'd they strain the swelling throat,
In contest with a rival's note:
Or with triumphant joy, attain'd
The victory and their partner gain'd,
To grove, hill, vale, their pæans sing,
Till grove, and hill, and valley ring:
Or for successful love repaid,
And nuptial faith, aspire to aid
The female's care the livelong day,
With carol of the cheerful lay.
Nor wants there oft the soothing tone
Of kindness and endearment shown,
While with complacent chirp they wait,
Feeding the closely brooding mate;
Or to the unfledg'd nestling brood
Administer the gather'd food;
Or lead them forth well-fledg'd to try
Their first flight in the fearful sky.
Nor wants there oft the alarum sound,
To call their tribes assistant round;
Or fear's shrill cry, or plaintive wail,
If predatory foe assail
Their shelter'd homestead's green retreat:
Or if approach of saunterer's feet,
Though harmless, touch their cherish'd haunt,
The chidings harsh, which bid avaunt
The intruder, and his course pursue
Unceasing o'er their precincts due.
Nor wants there oft the festive strain,
Commenc'd, surceas'd, resum'd again,
In very joyousness of soul:
As if they knew not to control
The stream of their exuberant glee;
And call'd on all around to see
And hear the raptures, which prolong
The current of that joyous song.
The feather'd songsters of the grove;
And what still varying sounds attest
The passions of each plumed breast!
Whether in early spring they feel
All potent love's delightful zeal,
Prompting each eager male to woo
A partner, and with warblings sue
Of courtship and intense desire:
Or, if with bold ambition's fire
Inflam'd they strain the swelling throat,
In contest with a rival's note:
Or with triumphant joy, attain'd
The victory and their partner gain'd,
To grove, hill, vale, their pæans sing,
Till grove, and hill, and valley ring:
Or for successful love repaid,
And nuptial faith, aspire to aid
The female's care the livelong day,
With carol of the cheerful lay.
Nor wants there oft the soothing tone
Of kindness and endearment shown,
While with complacent chirp they wait,
Feeding the closely brooding mate;
Or to the unfledg'd nestling brood
Administer the gather'd food;
Or lead them forth well-fledg'd to try
Their first flight in the fearful sky.
240
To call their tribes assistant round;
Or fear's shrill cry, or plaintive wail,
If predatory foe assail
Their shelter'd homestead's green retreat:
Or if approach of saunterer's feet,
Though harmless, touch their cherish'd haunt,
The chidings harsh, which bid avaunt
The intruder, and his course pursue
Unceasing o'er their precincts due.
Nor wants there oft the festive strain,
Commenc'd, surceas'd, resum'd again,
In very joyousness of soul:
As if they knew not to control
The stream of their exuberant glee;
And call'd on all around to see
And hear the raptures, which prolong
The current of that joyous song.
Sweet to the soul, as to the sense,
Is nature's homely eloquence:
Devoid of science, skill, or art
Elaborate, when the conscious heart
Whispers its deep-felt joyousness
Within; and eager to express
Its sympathy in joyous sounds,
The voice spontaneously responds!
Is nature's homely eloquence:
Devoid of science, skill, or art
Elaborate, when the conscious heart
Whispers its deep-felt joyousness
Within; and eager to express
Its sympathy in joyous sounds,
The voice spontaneously responds!
Sweet are such sounds: their bland control,
Not the sense only, but the soul
In pleas'd attention rapt employs,
Rejoicing in another's joys.
Whether the milk-maid's lively song,
Her fragrance-breathing herd among;
Or sturdy ploughman's whistle shrill,
Home wending through the evening still;
Or, from the sportive village sent,
Loud shouts of school-boy merriment
The quietude of nature break:
For if a vacant mind they speak,
Indicative of “want of thought,”
And little knowing “what is sought ;”
A merry heart too they declare,
Devoid of sorrow and of care,
A heart from anxious trouble free,
And buoyant with abundant glee.
Not the sense only, but the soul
In pleas'd attention rapt employs,
Rejoicing in another's joys.
Whether the milk-maid's lively song,
Her fragrance-breathing herd among;
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Home wending through the evening still;
Or, from the sportive village sent,
Loud shouts of school-boy merriment
The quietude of nature break:
For if a vacant mind they speak,
Indicative of “want of thought,”
And little knowing “what is sought ;”
A merry heart too they declare,
Devoid of sorrow and of care,
A heart from anxious trouble free,
And buoyant with abundant glee.
And so the listener's kindly heart
Takes in those homely sounds a part,
Not for themselves alone pursued;
For oft inelegant and rude
Such rustick sounds themselves appear,
And little soothe the well-tun'd ear;
And ev'n with more harmonious tone
They charm not for themselves alone;
But rather by the mystick sway,
Which couples thought with thought, their way
To our kind sympathies they win,
Signs of the joy that reigns within.
Takes in those homely sounds a part,
Not for themselves alone pursued;
For oft inelegant and rude
Such rustick sounds themselves appear,
And little soothe the well-tun'd ear;
And ev'n with more harmonious tone
They charm not for themselves alone;
But rather by the mystick sway,
Which couples thought with thought, their way
To our kind sympathies they win,
Signs of the joy that reigns within.
And such those wilder strains I hold,
Which still the woodland and the wold,
The mead and copse, the vale and hill,
With nature's untaught musick fill,
And make of this wide-vaulted sphere
One great symphonious theatre.
Sweet though they be, (nor strains so sweet
As these, the ear admiring greet
In throng'd orchestras, where nice art
Ambitious executes her part,
Intent to charm, surprise, confound,
With all the revelry of sound;)
They're lovely for their sweetness less,
Than that those dulcet strains express
The joy that in the bosom dwells:
Whence mounting high the rapture swells
With harmony each tuneful throat,
And prompts them with ecstatick note
The morning's sweet return to hail,
And bid farewell at twilight pale
The evening of the sun-bright June;
Less lively when the sultry noon
Remands them through the languid hours
To silence in their leafy bowers.
Which still the woodland and the wold,
The mead and copse, the vale and hill,
With nature's untaught musick fill,
And make of this wide-vaulted sphere
One great symphonious theatre.
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As these, the ear admiring greet
In throng'd orchestras, where nice art
Ambitious executes her part,
Intent to charm, surprise, confound,
With all the revelry of sound;)
They're lovely for their sweetness less,
Than that those dulcet strains express
The joy that in the bosom dwells:
Whence mounting high the rapture swells
With harmony each tuneful throat,
And prompts them with ecstatick note
The morning's sweet return to hail,
And bid farewell at twilight pale
The evening of the sun-bright June;
Less lively when the sultry noon
Remands them through the languid hours
To silence in their leafy bowers.
Summer rain. Its effect on the landscape; on birds, beasts, and man. Nature's call to thankfulness.
But if for many a sultry day
The golden sun has held his way,
Rejoicing in his cloudless strength,
The dry earth parching: and at length
By slow degrees with gather'd clouds
The heav'n its azure face inshrouds,
Preluding to the show'r with gust
Of whirling wind and volum'd dust;
Till, bursting from its floating stores,
On the dry lap of earth it pours
The treasure of enlivening rain:
Then when the very earth again
Lifts up a fresh and pleasant scent,
And the faint flow'rs are redolent
Of sweetness through the moisture won
From that rich treasure; and the sun
Looks forth with animating glow;
And opposite the heavenly bow
Its braid of sevenfold tissue weaves;
And on the smooth and glossy leaves
In globes the sparkling raindrops stand,
Or, gently shaken by the hand,
Like living silver slide away;
When from each blade, and leaf, and spray,
Ten thousand glistening gems depend,
And all the borrowed colours blend
Of heav'n's bright bow, that earth may vie
For beauty with the girdled sky:
Then do wild waste, and cultur'd field,
Grove, garden, thicket, orchard yield
From warbling throats a general burst
Of harmony; as if the first
Warm glow 'twere theirs again to prove
Of rapture and ecstatick love,
Which animates the vernal strain,
And all were spring and joy again.
The golden sun has held his way,
Rejoicing in his cloudless strength,
The dry earth parching: and at length
By slow degrees with gather'd clouds
The heav'n its azure face inshrouds,
Preluding to the show'r with gust
Of whirling wind and volum'd dust;
Till, bursting from its floating stores,
On the dry lap of earth it pours
The treasure of enlivening rain:
Then when the very earth again
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And the faint flow'rs are redolent
Of sweetness through the moisture won
From that rich treasure; and the sun
Looks forth with animating glow;
And opposite the heavenly bow
Its braid of sevenfold tissue weaves;
And on the smooth and glossy leaves
In globes the sparkling raindrops stand,
Or, gently shaken by the hand,
Like living silver slide away;
When from each blade, and leaf, and spray,
Ten thousand glistening gems depend,
And all the borrowed colours blend
Of heav'n's bright bow, that earth may vie
For beauty with the girdled sky:
Then do wild waste, and cultur'd field,
Grove, garden, thicket, orchard yield
From warbling throats a general burst
Of harmony; as if the first
Warm glow 'twere theirs again to prove
Of rapture and ecstatick love,
Which animates the vernal strain,
And all were spring and joy again.
See too the beasts, who faint with drought
In vain refreshing moisture sought
From the scant herbage parch'd and dry;
And sought in vain the due supply
Accustom'd from the mountain rill,
Or meadow pool, or on the hill,
By solitary sheep-fold walk,
The tank of excavated chalk;
Who late with nostrils broad upturn'd
From heav'n the coming flood discern'd;
Now that the flood's descending force
Revives the brook's impetuous course,
Deepening its pebbly bed, and cools
The air, and fills the brimming pools:
They too with joy and great delight
Exulting hail the long'd for sight
Of gladness to the hill and plain,
And revel in the freshening rain.
In vain refreshing moisture sought
From the scant herbage parch'd and dry;
And sought in vain the due supply
Accustom'd from the mountain rill,
Or meadow pool, or on the hill,
By solitary sheep-fold walk,
The tank of excavated chalk;
244
From heav'n the coming flood discern'd;
Now that the flood's descending force
Revives the brook's impetuous course,
Deepening its pebbly bed, and cools
The air, and fills the brimming pools:
They too with joy and great delight
Exulting hail the long'd for sight
Of gladness to the hill and plain,
And revel in the freshening rain.
Man shares the joy: and, as he sees
Fresh verdure brighten on the trees,
The meadows wear a thicker swathe,
The flowers a sweeter odour breathe,
Feels that, howe'er a brilliant sun
With gladness lights the eye of June,
No less there's gladness when he pours
Down his moist cheek the cooling showers;
Not such, as mar the new-mown hay,
Or sweep the tedded rows away;
But apt, when rays too fierce have beat
On the hot earth, the o'er-powering heat
Mildly to temper, and dispense
Refreshment to the languid sense.
Fresh verdure brighten on the trees,
The meadows wear a thicker swathe,
The flowers a sweeter odour breathe,
Feels that, howe'er a brilliant sun
With gladness lights the eye of June,
No less there's gladness when he pours
Down his moist cheek the cooling showers;
Not such, as mar the new-mown hay,
Or sweep the tedded rows away;
But apt, when rays too fierce have beat
On the hot earth, the o'er-powering heat
Mildly to temper, and dispense
Refreshment to the languid sense.
Then when the little birds express
Their souls in songs of joyousness,
I seem to hear kind nature's voice
Calling her children to rejoice
In Him, who gives the sun to rule
In splendour, and who gives the cool
Calm evening, and the morning tide,
Fresh airs, and dews, and showers beside,
The sun's o'erwhelming force to stay,
And mitigate the summer day.
And there to trace a type I seem
Of that essential Light supreme,
Who sitteth on his throne on high,
Array'd in strength and majesty;
But, lest the insufferable blaze
Our sight should dazzle and amaze,
About him clouds o'ershadowing flings;
While seraphs bow with folded wings,
And cherub voices from above
Proclaim to man that “God is love.”
Their souls in songs of joyousness,
I seem to hear kind nature's voice
Calling her children to rejoice
In Him, who gives the sun to rule
In splendour, and who gives the cool
Calm evening, and the morning tide,
Fresh airs, and dews, and showers beside,
245
And mitigate the summer day.
And there to trace a type I seem
Of that essential Light supreme,
Who sitteth on his throne on high,
Array'd in strength and majesty;
But, lest the insufferable blaze
Our sight should dazzle and amaze,
About him clouds o'ershadowing flings;
While seraphs bow with folded wings,
And cherub voices from above
Proclaim to man that “God is love.”
| The British Months | |