 | The British Months |  |
TO THE READER.
Whoe'er thou art, to whom 'tis joy to fleeFrom the world's haunts, not by its lures beguil'd,
Of taste yet pure, of manners undefil'd,
And gaze untir'd on sky, and earth, and sea;
To whom the song of birds is harmony,
And beauty the meek floret of the wild:
Oh Nature's simple, unperverted Child,
For thee I write, and crave a friend in thee!
Come, hand in hand with me her ways explore,
Mark'd by the year's beginning, growth, decline!
What hinders but we draw of thoughts a store,
Pleasant and good, from that abundant mine?
But oft to pause forget not, and adore
By nature's works reveal'd the Cause divine!
R., D. & C.
January 1, 1835.
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THE BRITISH MONTHS; A POEM, IN TWELVE PARTS.
JANUARY.
General subject, Appearances of the British months. Invocation. Uses of contemplating nature, recommended by divine revelation. Blamelessness of proposed subject. Regard due to the Creator's honour.
What symptoms through their annual range
Attend the Months' perpetual change,
As suns successive set and rise,
Revolving round our British skies:
Still varying with the varying year,
What rural sounds salute the ear;
The eye what rural sights; the scent
What airs, of fragrance redolent:
In field and woodland, hill and dell,
What plants of nature's garden dwell,
And duly at her call display
Their odours, hues, and fair array:
What birds perennially delight,
Or rest from migratory flight,
In Britain's hospitable groves;
Their dwellings, musick, cares, and loves:
Be these my Theme! Of objects fraught
With pleasure and improving thought
Observant, Thou, whose forms I choose
My subject, O, be Thou my Muse,
Nature, Great Parent! Rather Thou,
To whom with due allegiance bow,
Nature, and all her works, and all
That this blue vault, this pendent ball,
And this interminable sea
Inhabit, form'd of old by Thee,
By Thee sustain'd, and moving still
Obedient to Thy sovereign will;
Instruct me how to read aright
Creation's volume, where thy might
And boundless Godhead shine reveal'd
That contemplation's hours may yield
A blameless pleasure to the sense;
And, studious of instruction, thence
Thoughts of sublimer mood impart,
Inform the mind, improve the heart!
Attend the Months' perpetual change,
As suns successive set and rise,
Revolving round our British skies:
Still varying with the varying year,
What rural sounds salute the ear;
The eye what rural sights; the scent
What airs, of fragrance redolent:
In field and woodland, hill and dell,
What plants of nature's garden dwell,
And duly at her call display
Their odours, hues, and fair array:
What birds perennially delight,
Or rest from migratory flight,
In Britain's hospitable groves;
Their dwellings, musick, cares, and loves:
Be these my Theme! Of objects fraught
With pleasure and improving thought
Observant, Thou, whose forms I choose
My subject, O, be Thou my Muse,
Nature, Great Parent! Rather Thou,
To whom with due allegiance bow,
Nature, and all her works, and all
That this blue vault, this pendent ball,
And this interminable sea
Inhabit, form'd of old by Thee,
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Obedient to Thy sovereign will;
Instruct me how to read aright
Creation's volume, where thy might
And boundless Godhead shine reveal'd
That contemplation's hours may yield
A blameless pleasure to the sense;
And, studious of instruction, thence
Thoughts of sublimer mood impart,
Inform the mind, improve the heart!
What pleasure feel we here below,
Beyond what nature's charms bestow?
What less reprovable can be,
More free from harm, from blame more free?
What more abundant in delight,
Or to the hearing, smell, or sight?
What more instructive to the mind,
To wholesome pensiveness inclin'd?
What furnish'd more with feelings bland,
The heart's best yearnings to expand?
Chief, if the thought, not meanly pent
To things of sense, find ampler vent,
And soar a loftier flight abroad,
Thro' nature up to nature's God:
Then most of all, if, as we look
Around on God's material book,
Creation's volume, to our eye
Unclos'd his other volume lie;
And all that live, and breathe, and move,
In earth beneath and heav'n above,
Be to his publish'd will referr'd,
And measur'd by his written word:
That word, which prompts us to descry
His glory in the expanded sky;
And in retentive mind to keep
His wonders in the circling deep;
Sends us to beasts and creeping things,
To every bird that round us wings
His airy flight on pinions fleet,
And every flow'r beneath our feet;
Lessons of holy life to learn,
And God in all his works discern.
Beyond what nature's charms bestow?
What less reprovable can be,
More free from harm, from blame more free?
What more abundant in delight,
Or to the hearing, smell, or sight?
What more instructive to the mind,
To wholesome pensiveness inclin'd?
What furnish'd more with feelings bland,
The heart's best yearnings to expand?
Chief, if the thought, not meanly pent
To things of sense, find ampler vent,
And soar a loftier flight abroad,
Thro' nature up to nature's God:
Then most of all, if, as we look
Around on God's material book,
Creation's volume, to our eye
Unclos'd his other volume lie;
And all that live, and breathe, and move,
In earth beneath and heav'n above,
Be to his publish'd will referr'd,
And measur'd by his written word:
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His glory in the expanded sky;
And in retentive mind to keep
His wonders in the circling deep;
Sends us to beasts and creeping things,
To every bird that round us wings
His airy flight on pinions fleet,
And every flow'r beneath our feet;
Lessons of holy life to learn,
And God in all his works discern.
Who then shall censure, if I trace
The opening year's progressive pace,
And, as its months advancing move,
From land or sea, from air or grove,
Scenes of innocuous pleasure choose;
Scenes which the meditative Muse
May best, as likes her best, array
In simple, unpretending lay;
And proffer to the ear or eye
The mimick charms, till matter high
Be thence of pure instruction sought,
Fit scope for salutary thought?
If little worth the poet's praise,
Nor brightly shine the woodland bays,
No word the rural Muse shall speak
To wake a blush on virtue's cheek,
Raise honest zeal's indignant rod,
Or do dishonour to my God.
Nay, rather be the lay unsung,
Unnerv'd my hand, and mute my tongue;
Than e'er a verse, these fingers write,
May seem offensive in his sight;
Or from these lips a sentence fall,
Dishonouring Him who gives me all!
The opening year's progressive pace,
And, as its months advancing move,
From land or sea, from air or grove,
Scenes of innocuous pleasure choose;
Scenes which the meditative Muse
May best, as likes her best, array
In simple, unpretending lay;
And proffer to the ear or eye
The mimick charms, till matter high
Be thence of pure instruction sought,
Fit scope for salutary thought?
If little worth the poet's praise,
Nor brightly shine the woodland bays,
No word the rural Muse shall speak
To wake a blush on virtue's cheek,
Raise honest zeal's indignant rod,
Or do dishonour to my God.
Nay, rather be the lay unsung,
Unnerv'd my hand, and mute my tongue;
Than e'er a verse, these fingers write,
May seem offensive in his sight;
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Dishonouring Him who gives me all!
January, its twofold aspect. Frequency of cold weather. Memorable frosts recorded by Evelyn, Gay, and White. Frost of 1814. Such frosts unusual, bad weather common
Hail, first, the firstling of the year,
Which, duly marshall'd in his rear,
The train of months successive leads,
Dark January! But though in weeds
Of mourning muffled, and at first
In gloom, perchance in tempest nurst;
Like him, another and the same,
The two-faced god, from whom its name
Transmitted from old Rome it bears,
The month by just succession wears
A double aspect. Backward one
On dull mid-winter's gloom is thrown,
And thence reflected shows the mark
Of frowns, and tears, and features dark.
Forward to scenes that distant lie
The other casts a longing eye,
Where spring's delightful hours advance;
And, cheer'd by that prospective glance,
On his dim cheek appear the whiles
Faint gleams of joy and sickly smiles.
Which, duly marshall'd in his rear,
The train of months successive leads,
Dark January! But though in weeds
Of mourning muffled, and at first
In gloom, perchance in tempest nurst;
Like him, another and the same,
The two-faced god, from whom its name
Transmitted from old Rome it bears,
The month by just succession wears
A double aspect. Backward one
On dull mid-winter's gloom is thrown,
And thence reflected shows the mark
Of frowns, and tears, and features dark.
Forward to scenes that distant lie
The other casts a longing eye,
Where spring's delightful hours advance;
And, cheer'd by that prospective glance,
On his dim cheek appear the whiles
Faint gleams of joy and sickly smiles.
Yes, January's wintry face
Oft with as dark and deep a trace
The season's furrowing wrinkles plough,
As mid December's clouded brow.
As deep the snow o'erwhelms the plains;
As firm the frost the streams inchains;
And ev'n, as old experience says
In rustick saw, with “lengthening days”
On nature's works the “strengthening cold”
Oft keeps a firmer longer hold.
Oft with as dark and deep a trace
The season's furrowing wrinkles plough,
As mid December's clouded brow.
As deep the snow o'erwhelms the plains;
As firm the frost the streams inchains;
And ev'n, as old experience says
In rustick saw, with “lengthening days”
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Oft keeps a firmer longer hold.
Who has not heard, how Frost austere,
So Evelyn tells , the opening year,
Last of the second Charles's reign,
Chose for his dwelling and domain
Imperial Thames's stately flood;
Form'd of his waves a solid road
For coach and sledge, where plied before
The bellying sail and dripping oar;
And London throng'd in booth and stall
To hold a sportful carnival?
So Evelyn tells , the opening year,
Last of the second Charles's reign,
Chose for his dwelling and domain
Imperial Thames's stately flood;
Form'd of his waves a solid road
For coach and sledge, where plied before
The bellying sail and dripping oar;
And London throng'd in booth and stall
To hold a sportful carnival?
Who has not heard, what gentle Gay
Records in Trivia's playful lay,
How Thames, with frosted osiers crown'd,
Saw three long moons his current bound,
And felt the wheels all smoothly glide,
And whitening rase his harden'd tide?
Records in Trivia's playful lay,
How Thames, with frosted osiers crown'd,
Saw three long moons his current bound,
And felt the wheels all smoothly glide,
And whitening rase his harden'd tide?
Who has not heard, that takes delight
In nature's scenes, what pleasing White,
Her favourite votary, tells, again
How Thames receiv'd the icy chain;
And London saw throughout her range
A scene Laplandian, wild and strange,
And through her streets, by day, by night,
Mute stillness reign'd, and dumb affright ?
In nature's scenes, what pleasing White,
Her favourite votary, tells, again
How Thames receiv'd the icy chain;
And London saw throughout her range
A scene Laplandian, wild and strange,
And through her streets, by day, by night,
Mute stillness reign'd, and dumb affright ?
And who with mindful thought the space
Of twice ten years can backward trace,
Nor find inroll'd, that opening year,
What fog the smoky atmosphere
Obscur'd; what cold, his waves congeal'd,
The Thames' majestick course withheld?
Of twice ten years can backward trace,
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What fog the smoky atmosphere
Obscur'd; what cold, his waves congeal'd,
The Thames' majestick course withheld?
Six dismal days from morn till night,
A week's eclipse, no ray of light
Was seen to stream, no cheerful sound
Was echoed from the snow-clad ground.
The noontide lamp illum'd your home:
But, if constrain'd abroad to roam,
Where feebly strove the torches' ray
To shed an artificial day,
A beacon thro' the well-known street;
With eyes perplex'd, and treacherous feet,
You crept along in silent awe:
No coming passenger you saw,
You heard no wheels approaching roll,
You felt the darkness in your soul.
Then came the frost: and week by week
Imperial Thames you saw not seek
His ocean goal. In peace he slept:
Or, if his seaward course he kept,
As old Alphæus far from day
Held on his subterranean way,
So Father Thames, by none beheld,
His flood beneath the ice propell'd.
And then the thaw: and then again
You saw him hastening to the main,
Throng'd with accumulated piles,
Masses of ice and floating isles.
A week's eclipse, no ray of light
Was seen to stream, no cheerful sound
Was echoed from the snow-clad ground.
The noontide lamp illum'd your home:
But, if constrain'd abroad to roam,
Where feebly strove the torches' ray
To shed an artificial day,
A beacon thro' the well-known street;
With eyes perplex'd, and treacherous feet,
You crept along in silent awe:
No coming passenger you saw,
You heard no wheels approaching roll,
You felt the darkness in your soul.
Then came the frost: and week by week
Imperial Thames you saw not seek
His ocean goal. In peace he slept:
Or, if his seaward course he kept,
As old Alphæus far from day
Held on his subterranean way,
So Father Thames, by none beheld,
His flood beneath the ice propell'd.
And then the thaw: and then again
You saw him hastening to the main,
Throng'd with accumulated piles,
Masses of ice and floating isles.
Such scenes as these, so dark and drear,
Have mark'd our England's new-born year.
But scenes, so drear and dark as these,
Our southern climate rarely sees;
Siberian fogs, Icelandian frosts,
More meet for Hyperborean coasts
Beyond the habitable world;
Where Britain's sons have late unfurl'd
Their country's cross, intent to find
The floods, if floods there be, that bind
Northward, with yet unravell'd chain,
The eastern to the western main.
Have mark'd our England's new-born year.
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Our southern climate rarely sees;
Siberian fogs, Icelandian frosts,
More meet for Hyperborean coasts
Beyond the habitable world;
Where Britain's sons have late unfurl'd
Their country's cross, intent to find
The floods, if floods there be, that bind
Northward, with yet unravell'd chain,
The eastern to the western main.
White's Natural History of Selborne. Letter 62 to the Hon. Daines Barrington, describing January 1776.
Enjoyment of a shelter'd winter walk. Such walks usual in old manor-house and parsonage gardens. Garden of Trinity College, Oxford. Evelyn's Holly wall. Character of Evelyn. The true Patriot. The Author's winter walk
Yet fog, and frost, and dreary snow,
Enough our wintry seasons know.
Enough our wintry seasons know.
Then happy he, whose pleasant home,
When the harsh times forbid to roam
His cautious footsteps, can supply
A walk protected, warm, and dry.
When the harsh times forbid to roam
His cautious footsteps, can supply
A walk protected, warm, and dry.
In much—(tho' now fastidious pride
Our fathers' gothick taste deride;)
In much—(tho' much the cultur'd mind
Has by nice tact improv'd, refined;)
Yet still in much, that lingering bears
The vestige of departed years,
I love that antiquated taste!
The trim and stately garden, graced
With vistas deep, which through and through
Lead the pleas'd eye; the avenue
Of loftier structure, and more wide
Of space, but clos'd on either side
With branching arms, a cool retreat
For musing 'mid the summer heat;
And the rais'd terrace, where a screen
One side of cheerful evergreen
Shuts in from biting blasts, and one
Uncover'd courts the midday sun:
A winter walk, secure and warm,
And shelter'd from the northern storm,
Of dark green cypress, darker yew,
Or holly's lighter, livelier hue,
Not trick'd and trimm'd to every form
Of bird, and beast, and fish, and worm,
Which lives in wide creation's range,
Or fancy feigns, grotesque and strange:
But high, the passing head to hide;
And thick, to turn the drift aside;
And moderate length, that health the space
Without satiety may pace,
And interchange of objects find
To charm the eye, amuse the mind.
Our fathers' gothick taste deride;)
In much—(tho' much the cultur'd mind
Has by nice tact improv'd, refined;)
Yet still in much, that lingering bears
The vestige of departed years,
I love that antiquated taste!
The trim and stately garden, graced
With vistas deep, which through and through
Lead the pleas'd eye; the avenue
Of loftier structure, and more wide
Of space, but clos'd on either side
With branching arms, a cool retreat
For musing 'mid the summer heat;
10
One side of cheerful evergreen
Shuts in from biting blasts, and one
Uncover'd courts the midday sun:
A winter walk, secure and warm,
And shelter'd from the northern storm,
Of dark green cypress, darker yew,
Or holly's lighter, livelier hue,
Not trick'd and trimm'd to every form
Of bird, and beast, and fish, and worm,
Which lives in wide creation's range,
Or fancy feigns, grotesque and strange:
But high, the passing head to hide;
And thick, to turn the drift aside;
And moderate length, that health the space
Without satiety may pace,
And interchange of objects find
To charm the eye, amuse the mind.
Such terrace still maintains its hold
In some manorial mansion old,
Where with the window's mullion'd bow
It joins, and portal arch, to show
To antiquarian eyes the date
And grandeur of its pristine state:
Or relique of a graver age,
In some time-honour'd parsonage,
Whose gable roof and oaken door,
With knobs of iron studded o'er,
And venerable depth of porch,
Claim kindred with the neighbouring church.
Such is thy verdant wall of yew,
To whom my passing thanks are due,
Erewhile my nurse; in whom, alone
Of Oxford's classick towers, are shown,
Though quaint, yet pleasing, high and dense
The comforts of that living fence,
A long-drawn range of pannels green,
Pillars' and portals arch'd between.
In some manorial mansion old,
Where with the window's mullion'd bow
It joins, and portal arch, to show
To antiquarian eyes the date
And grandeur of its pristine state:
Or relique of a graver age,
In some time-honour'd parsonage,
Whose gable roof and oaken door,
With knobs of iron studded o'er,
And venerable depth of porch,
Claim kindred with the neighbouring church.
Such is thy verdant wall of yew,
To whom my passing thanks are due,
11
Of Oxford's classick towers, are shown,
Though quaint, yet pleasing, high and dense
The comforts of that living fence,
A long-drawn range of pannels green,
Pillars' and portals arch'd between.
And such was once thy holly wall
,
Good Evelyn! Thick, extended, tall.
Thy hands dispos'd the seedlings fair;
They throve beneath thy fostering care:
Four hundred feet in length they throve,
Thrice three they rose in height above.
Glittering with arm'd and varnish'd leaves,
Secure 'gainst weather, beasts, and thieves,
Blushing with native coral red,
Refreshment and delight they shed
About thy path, and still diffuse
O'er thy mild page perennial hues.
That page, which England's king erewhile
Approv'd with gratulating smile,
And bade with waving woods be crown'd
Her treeless deserts, whence the sound
Of her dread voice has since been heard
O'er Ocean's reign. But more endear'd
Good Evelyn, is thy honour'd name,
For true devotion's fervent flame,
From wild o'erheated fancies free;
Pure faith, and duteous loyalty.
Who, when “each tree of noblest kind
For sight, smell, taste,” intranc'd thy mind,
Didst still their glorious Author bless:
Nor to his holy volume less
Devoted, in thy green retreat,
And with his church in union sweet,
Held'st on thy lengthen'd pilgrimage,
The truly wise, the Christian sage!
Who, when their frosts upon thy head
Had four and fourscore winters shed,
Look'dst backward on thy bygone days
With heart of thankfulness and praise
For blessings granted; and with pray'r
For grace to aid, for love to spare,
Look'dst forward to thy day of doom;
And left'st for record on thy tomb
This simple, true, and heavenly strain,
“What is not honest, is but vain:
Nor solid wisdom can there be
But in substantial piety. ”
Good Evelyn! Thick, extended, tall.
Thy hands dispos'd the seedlings fair;
They throve beneath thy fostering care:
Four hundred feet in length they throve,
Thrice three they rose in height above.
Glittering with arm'd and varnish'd leaves,
Secure 'gainst weather, beasts, and thieves,
Blushing with native coral red,
Refreshment and delight they shed
About thy path, and still diffuse
O'er thy mild page perennial hues.
That page, which England's king erewhile
Approv'd with gratulating smile,
And bade with waving woods be crown'd
Her treeless deserts, whence the sound
Of her dread voice has since been heard
O'er Ocean's reign. But more endear'd
Good Evelyn, is thy honour'd name,
For true devotion's fervent flame,
From wild o'erheated fancies free;
Pure faith, and duteous loyalty.
Who, when “each tree of noblest kind
For sight, smell, taste,” intranc'd thy mind,
12
Nor to his holy volume less
Devoted, in thy green retreat,
And with his church in union sweet,
Held'st on thy lengthen'd pilgrimage,
The truly wise, the Christian sage!
Who, when their frosts upon thy head
Had four and fourscore winters shed,
Look'dst backward on thy bygone days
With heart of thankfulness and praise
For blessings granted; and with pray'r
For grace to aid, for love to spare,
Look'dst forward to thy day of doom;
And left'st for record on thy tomb
This simple, true, and heavenly strain,
“What is not honest, is but vain:
Nor solid wisdom can there be
But in substantial piety. ”
O might such wisdom pour its rays
To lighten our self-vaunted days!
O might such fruits, (and ne'er before
Did strong and sad occasion more
Prompt the heart's wish,) might works like thine
Ev'n now in Britain's patriots shine!
Thy life a monument to show
What charms from nature's study flow;
That bliss resides with godly zeal;
That private worth is publick weal;
And, who would take the proper road
To profit men, must serve his God!
To lighten our self-vaunted days!
O might such fruits, (and ne'er before
Did strong and sad occasion more
Prompt the heart's wish,) might works like thine
Ev'n now in Britain's patriots shine!
Thy life a monument to show
What charms from nature's study flow;
That bliss resides with godly zeal;
That private worth is publick weal;
And, who would take the proper road
To profit men, must serve his God!
13
Thus do my thoughts thy worth recall,
As, pacing by thy holly wall,
Thou risest, Evelyn, to my sight
'Mid all thy innocent delight.
Such holly wall, if mine the choice,
By magick wand or plastick voice
To fashion, what may best combine
Pleasure and health, such wall were mine.
As, pacing by thy holly wall,
Thou risest, Evelyn, to my sight
'Mid all thy innocent delight.
Such holly wall, if mine the choice,
By magick wand or plastick voice
To fashion, what may best combine
Pleasure and health, such wall were mine.
But, failing such, this cover'd way
Contents me! Lo, the sunny ray
Falls on it full before. Behind
The house protects it from the wind.
In front a smooth and slanting green;
But, varying still the pleasant scene,
Here spreads a range of level plots,
With box-fringed beds, where lurking knots
Of buried flow'rs repose, to bring
Kind greeting to the early spring.
There terrac'd eminences rise,
Step above step: there bending lies
The lawn in one continuous slope:
And there, within its sinuous scope,
The laurel bright, and laurustine,
And bay, and arbutus combine,
With berry, bell, and blooming flower,
Regardless of the stormy stour,
To form my garden's verdant bound.
And there, beyond that wood-clad mound,
The gravell'd walk receding bends
Its gentle curve, and thence extends
Along the shrubbery's varied edge,
Along the laurel's thickset hedge,
O'er which the shapely poplars climb,
Alder, and fir, and beech, and lime,
Thro' deeper shades on either hand
That border on the salt sea strand.
Contents me! Lo, the sunny ray
Falls on it full before. Behind
The house protects it from the wind.
In front a smooth and slanting green;
But, varying still the pleasant scene,
Here spreads a range of level plots,
With box-fringed beds, where lurking knots
Of buried flow'rs repose, to bring
Kind greeting to the early spring.
There terrac'd eminences rise,
Step above step: there bending lies
The lawn in one continuous slope:
And there, within its sinuous scope,
The laurel bright, and laurustine,
And bay, and arbutus combine,
With berry, bell, and blooming flower,
Regardless of the stormy stour,
To form my garden's verdant bound.
And there, beyond that wood-clad mound,
The gravell'd walk receding bends
Its gentle curve, and thence extends
Along the shrubbery's varied edge,
Along the laurel's thickset hedge,
14
Alder, and fir, and beech, and lime,
Thro' deeper shades on either hand
That border on the salt sea strand.
Above the spire-mark'd town remote
You see the smoky vapour float,
Which tells how much more sweet and fair
Our rural scene, our healthful air.
Between us flows the ocean tide,
An harbour lake; where safely ride,
As shallops in a land-lock'd pond,
Ships of the sea. And yet beyond,
Skirting the lake, and like a bow
In graceful curvature, a row
Of lofty mountains sweeps along,
In varied shapes; and there a throng
Of hamlets fair you see beneath,
And grove-clad seats: above, with heath
Embrown'd, and frowning o'er the waves,
Its knolls and glens and peaks and caves
Shows the tall summit, where you trace
Day after day the resting place,
Wherein the setting sun goes down:
Now southward of that clouded town,
To those north-western trees, that show
On the slant hill where latest glow
His summer rays, and bright infold
Sky, mountain, lake in floating gold
You see the smoky vapour float,
Which tells how much more sweet and fair
Our rural scene, our healthful air.
Between us flows the ocean tide,
An harbour lake; where safely ride,
As shallops in a land-lock'd pond,
Ships of the sea. And yet beyond,
Skirting the lake, and like a bow
In graceful curvature, a row
Of lofty mountains sweeps along,
In varied shapes; and there a throng
Of hamlets fair you see beneath,
And grove-clad seats: above, with heath
Embrown'd, and frowning o'er the waves,
Its knolls and glens and peaks and caves
Shows the tall summit, where you trace
Day after day the resting place,
Wherein the setting sun goes down:
Now southward of that clouded town,
To those north-western trees, that show
On the slant hill where latest glow
His summer rays, and bright infold
Sky, mountain, lake in floating gold
Pleasure of thinking the shortest day past. Improvement of time. Anticipation of spring pleasant. Every season may be conducive to happiness and improvement
'Tis pleasant to the mind, the thought
By opening January brought,
That now the hasty-footed Sun
On vault the most deprest has run
His briefest course: that day by day
His track about the heaven's high way
Will form a wider, loftier arch;
And earlier, to attend his march,
Call forth the slumbering hours, nor leave
So soon to rest the shadowy eve.
By opening January brought,
15
On vault the most deprest has run
His briefest course: that day by day
His track about the heaven's high way
Will form a wider, loftier arch;
And earlier, to attend his march,
Call forth the slumbering hours, nor leave
So soon to rest the shadowy eve.
Not that 'tis well to wish away
A month, or week, or passing day,
Or fleeting hour, or smallest space
Mark'd on the dial's changeful face.
For who can tell what awful pow'r
Month, week, or day, or fleeting hour,
Or moment by the dial told,
May on our endless being hold;
What each quick waning point may breed,
And what may next to each succeed?
Behoves us therefore to devote,
As down the stream of life they float,
Or long or short, the passing days
To works of love, our Maker's praise,
Thankful for each, that still among
The living greets us, short or long.
But as, by His supreme decree,
Who first commanded time to be,
Whate'er we wish, it still will run
Its progress, and to-morrow's sun
Still press on that which shines to day,
And days successive pass away:
'Tis sweet, and innocent withal,
To note o'er this our earthly ball
The growing arch; each morn and night
Enjoy the still progressive light;
And hail in his expanded wing
Faint symptoms of returning spring.
A month, or week, or passing day,
Or fleeting hour, or smallest space
Mark'd on the dial's changeful face.
For who can tell what awful pow'r
Month, week, or day, or fleeting hour,
Or moment by the dial told,
May on our endless being hold;
What each quick waning point may breed,
And what may next to each succeed?
Behoves us therefore to devote,
As down the stream of life they float,
Or long or short, the passing days
To works of love, our Maker's praise,
Thankful for each, that still among
The living greets us, short or long.
But as, by His supreme decree,
Who first commanded time to be,
Whate'er we wish, it still will run
Its progress, and to-morrow's sun
Still press on that which shines to day,
And days successive pass away:
'Tis sweet, and innocent withal,
To note o'er this our earthly ball
16
Enjoy the still progressive light;
And hail in his expanded wing
Faint symptoms of returning spring.
Is there a heart that beats and lives,
To which no joy the spring-time gives?
Alas! in that unfeeling heart
Nor love nor kindliness has part;
Or chilling want, or pining care
Must brood, or comfortless despair.
Blest, who without profane alloy
Can revel in that blameless joy!
More blest, in every welcome hour,
If spring-time smile, or winter lower,
Who round him scatter'd hears or sees
What still the excursive sense may please;
Who round him finds, perchance unsought,
Fresh matter for improving thought;
And more, the more he looks abroad,
Marks, owns, and loves the present God!
To which no joy the spring-time gives?
Alas! in that unfeeling heart
Nor love nor kindliness has part;
Or chilling want, or pining care
Must brood, or comfortless despair.
Blest, who without profane alloy
Can revel in that blameless joy!
More blest, in every welcome hour,
If spring-time smile, or winter lower,
Who round him scatter'd hears or sees
What still the excursive sense may please;
Who round him finds, perchance unsought,
Fresh matter for improving thought;
And more, the more he looks abroad,
Marks, owns, and loves the present God!
Stormy night followed by calm new year's day. Fog. Effect of deceptive media of sight. Swarms of insects. Questions concerning them. The divine benignity
Which bade farewell the parting year:
Calm is the day, the storms withdrawn,
Which marks the new year's placid dawn.
Calm is the day, and scarce a breeze
Or waves or whispers thro' the trees,
Yet peeping forth no sunny ray
Gives warmth or brightness to the day.
But a dense fog o'erwhelming hides
The mountain's head, and feet, and sides,
17
Till yon projecting headland seem,
Uplifted through the misty shroud,
In the mid air a long dark cloud;
And boats and ships, that anchor nigh,
Seem hanging in the mantling sky.
Thus wanders oft from judgment right,
As of the eye, the mental sight,
Of things, with darkening shades indued,
And through a treacherous medium view'd.
When pride or earthly passions reign,
Or prejudice, or fancies vain
Spread an obscuring mist around;
They blunt the eyesight, and confound
Together things of earth and sky,
And God's own truth appears a lie.
Disporting in the foggy air,
Light swarms of insects, here and there,
The laurel-skirted pathway o'er,
Or by the branching fir-trees soar.
Now playful round and round they wheel:
Now changeful thread the mazy reel,
Above, below, and in and out,
Like Oberon's legendary rout,
When on mid Summer's haunted eve,
The merry dance the fairies weave.
Whence come they, when produced, and how?
Is it their first of being now,
Their birth-day? Or did winter keep,
Born long ago, their life in sleep
Suspended? Or with senses keen
And wakeful, from the embowering green
Mark'd they the fitting time to ply
Their gambols in the open sky?
What warning voice, what genial pow'r,
Invites them forth this wintry hour:
No sunny ray abroad, to warm
The juices of their tiny form;
To wave their thin and filmy wing,
No gentle gale of balmy spring;
But breath instead of clammy fog,
Might seem more apt their wings to clog,
And their too slender frame to thrill
With the sharp shaft of breezes chill?
Light swarms of insects, here and there,
The laurel-skirted pathway o'er,
Or by the branching fir-trees soar.
Now playful round and round they wheel:
Now changeful thread the mazy reel,
Above, below, and in and out,
Like Oberon's legendary rout,
When on mid Summer's haunted eve,
The merry dance the fairies weave.
Whence come they, when produced, and how?
Is it their first of being now,
Their birth-day? Or did winter keep,
Born long ago, their life in sleep
18
And wakeful, from the embowering green
Mark'd they the fitting time to ply
Their gambols in the open sky?
What warning voice, what genial pow'r,
Invites them forth this wintry hour:
No sunny ray abroad, to warm
The juices of their tiny form;
To wave their thin and filmy wing,
No gentle gale of balmy spring;
But breath instead of clammy fog,
Might seem more apt their wings to clog,
And their too slender frame to thrill
With the sharp shaft of breezes chill?
The instinct strong, the hidden cause,
Which to their feelings speaks, and draws
The wanderers from their secret seat,
Their birth-place, or their snug retreat,
Full little know we: but we know
The Cause Supreme, to which they owe
Life, motion, all things; and we see
Proof of his vast benignity,
Which, ever active, o'er the earth's
Broad surface spreads unnumber'd births,
O'er land and air, the springs, the floods;
Which first for each their proper broods
Created, and preserves them all:
And feeble as they are, and small,
Gives to these insects, void of care,
Strong in his strength, to wing the air,
Or in the dark green fir-trees house,
Or lurk within the laurel boughs;
Provides them with befitting form,
To shun or to endure the storm;
Instructs the proper time to know,
At home to rest, afield to go,
With implements of joy indued,
And fills with gladness as with food.
Which to their feelings speaks, and draws
The wanderers from their secret seat,
Their birth-place, or their snug retreat,
Full little know we: but we know
The Cause Supreme, to which they owe
Life, motion, all things; and we see
Proof of his vast benignity,
Which, ever active, o'er the earth's
Broad surface spreads unnumber'd births,
O'er land and air, the springs, the floods;
Which first for each their proper broods
Created, and preserves them all:
And feeble as they are, and small,
Gives to these insects, void of care,
Strong in his strength, to wing the air,
Or in the dark green fir-trees house,
Or lurk within the laurel boughs;
19
To shun or to endure the storm;
Instructs the proper time to know,
At home to rest, afield to go,
With implements of joy indued,
And fills with gladness as with food.
Few early singing Birds. Red-breast, Black-bird, Thrush. Their peculiar pleasantness. Missel-Thrush. His varied notes. Flocks of small birds, little musical. Their vivacity. The Magpie, beauty of the bird, his unpleasant character. The Sky-lark. Beauty of his song. Present mixture of earthly with heavenly things
Few are the feather'd tribes, that now
From field or garden, bank or bough,
With nimble flight, or perching nigh,
Amusive greet the wandering eye:
Still fewer they, whose voices cheer
With melody the listening ear.
From field or garden, bank or bough,
With nimble flight, or perching nigh,
Amusive greet the wandering eye:
Still fewer they, whose voices cheer
With melody the listening ear.
Last in the by-gone year to fail,
If fail he did; the first to hail,
With tribute of observance due
And song, the opening of the new,
The Redbreast from his perch on high
Chirps his brisk call or prompt reply;
And now and then expands his throat,
To trill a sweeter, softer note.
If fail he did; the first to hail,
With tribute of observance due
And song, the opening of the new,
The Redbreast from his perch on high
Chirps his brisk call or prompt reply;
And now and then expands his throat,
To trill a sweeter, softer note.
Across my path, from laurel bush
Quick starting, as his pinions brush
The surface of the shrubby ground;
Join'd with his feathers' rustling sound
The Blackbird's gurgling notes betray
His hasty flight: and still as day
Receding cautions him to flee
For slumber to his roosting tree,
His long repeated strains disclose
The station of his night's repose.
Nor wants there oft the whistle shrill,
But tuneful, from his yellow bill,
Sweet prelude of the richer song,
Which spring shall prompt, and love prolong.
Quick starting, as his pinions brush
The surface of the shrubby ground;
Join'd with his feathers' rustling sound
The Blackbird's gurgling notes betray
His hasty flight: and still as day
Receding cautions him to flee
For slumber to his roosting tree,
His long repeated strains disclose
The station of his night's repose.
20
But tuneful, from his yellow bill,
Sweet prelude of the richer song,
Which spring shall prompt, and love prolong.
Nor prelude of sweet musick, troll'd
More richly, does the Thrush withhold,
Chief when he mounts on elm-tree high,
And wakes his early minstrelsy
To gratulate the morning mild:
Or if from noontide skies have smil'd
The sun's warm rays, or sinking leave
Their lustre on the brow of eve.
More richly, does the Thrush withhold,
Chief when he mounts on elm-tree high,
And wakes his early minstrelsy
To gratulate the morning mild:
Or if from noontide skies have smil'd
The sun's warm rays, or sinking leave
Their lustre on the brow of eve.
Again, delightful birds, again
Resume, repeat, protract the strain:
If e'er neglected or despis'd,
'Twould now be sought, admir'd, and priz'd.
Each bill, that 'mid the silence sings,
A new peculiar pleasure brings;
A special pleasure, that exceeds
The intrinsick worth; for rareness breeds
Ev'n of itself a proper joy,
Unapt the sated mind to cloy:
And sounds, long undiscern'd, like these,
With freshness, as with sweetness please.
But hark! from top of loftiest beech
Resume, repeat, protract the strain:
If e'er neglected or despis'd,
'Twould now be sought, admir'd, and priz'd.
Each bill, that 'mid the silence sings,
A new peculiar pleasure brings;
A special pleasure, that exceeds
The intrinsick worth; for rareness breeds
Ev'n of itself a proper joy,
Unapt the sated mind to cloy:
And sounds, long undiscern'd, like these,
With freshness, as with sweetness please.
The Missel-Cock's untuneful screech!
Not like the rich and varied note
Melodious from the throstle's throat;
But a distrest, discordant scream,
As if for day's departing beam
21
The embryo storm of rain or sleet.
More tuneful, when he takes his stand
'Mid the warm sunshine, where at hand
On hawthorn, elm, or maple grow
The boughs of pale green misseltoe;
And plucks its yellow globes, or feeds
On the dark ivy's berried seeds.
And sure I ne'er have heard a song,
More clear, more full, more rich, more strong,
Tho' mix'd at times with harsher note,
Than issued from his evening throat:
What time I've seen the breezes blow
His form, all heedless, to and fro;
And heard him, as beneath I stood,
Pour forth his musick's changeful flood.
And smaller brethren of the air,
Some singly scatter'd here and there,
Some that in flocks assembled throng,
Invite the rambling foot along:
Such birds as covet not to roam,
But make their native fields their home.
The Sparrow brown; the Linnet gray;
The white-wing'd Chaffinch, brisk and gay,
Tho' yet constrain'd alone to wait
The arrival of his roving mate;
So quick and small that scarce the eye
Can catch them, as they creep or fly,
The sprightly “Wren with little quill ;”
And Hedgerow Titling's pleasant bill;
Bright Buntings, flitting on beside
The well-trod path; and Tits that glide
Half-hidden mid the alder spray,
And hunt from bough to bough their prey.
Some singly scatter'd here and there,
Some that in flocks assembled throng,
Invite the rambling foot along:
Such birds as covet not to roam,
But make their native fields their home.
The Sparrow brown; the Linnet gray;
The white-wing'd Chaffinch, brisk and gay,
Tho' yet constrain'd alone to wait
The arrival of his roving mate;
So quick and small that scarce the eye
Can catch them, as they creep or fly,
The sprightly “Wren with little quill ;”
And Hedgerow Titling's pleasant bill;
22
The well-trod path; and Tits that glide
Half-hidden mid the alder spray,
And hunt from bough to bough their prey.
But tho' the sight their form descry,
'Tis but the pinions, hurrying by
The quick-set bank or new-turn'd ground,
That warn the hearing; or the sound,
If vocal sound their presence speak,
Of lively chirp, or twitter weak.
Small is their voice's tuneful pow'r,
Or waits for spring's inspiring hour.
But nor unwelcome is the call
Imperfect of their voices small,
Nor, as in fluttering flocks they fly,
The noise of pinions hurrying by,
To those, for whom with charms abound
Each rural sight, each rural sound.
With such, altho' of faint pretence
To please the nice fastidious sense,
The twitter, chirp, and rustling wing
Wake the kind heart's responsive string,
And, blithe with being, seem to say,
“See us alive, and brisk, and gay!”
'Tis but the pinions, hurrying by
The quick-set bank or new-turn'd ground,
That warn the hearing; or the sound,
If vocal sound their presence speak,
Of lively chirp, or twitter weak.
Small is their voice's tuneful pow'r,
Or waits for spring's inspiring hour.
But nor unwelcome is the call
Imperfect of their voices small,
Nor, as in fluttering flocks they fly,
The noise of pinions hurrying by,
To those, for whom with charms abound
Each rural sight, each rural sound.
With such, altho' of faint pretence
To please the nice fastidious sense,
The twitter, chirp, and rustling wing
Wake the kind heart's responsive string,
And, blithe with being, seem to say,
“See us alive, and brisk, and gay!”
From tangled hedge, or woodland shroud?
Look, and you'll see the forward spring,
And quick vibration of the wing,
And dazzling gleams of black and white,
That shew the Magpie's restless flight!
23
Of purple, green, and glossy blue,
Mark 'mong the fairest to the eye
Of Britain's birds the chattering Pie.
That noisy chatter, harsh and crude,
The watch-cry loud, the clamour rude,
Make him of Britain's birds appear
'Mong the least lovely to the ear.
And sure I deem ingenuous hearts
Will little love his sprightly parts,
To all within his reach confest
The common dread, the common pest:
A glass, where forward manners bold,
By no meek sense of shame controll'd;
Voracity, that nothing spares;
And heartless selfishness, that cares
For none; and thievish fraud, may see
Types of their own deformity.
How different is the warbling Lark,
Who now, when fade the shadows dark,
Again exults to feel the reign
Of winter loose its pinching chain;
Again, as innocent as gay,
At heaven's gate sings his matin lay!
Plain is his suit of sober brown,
His speckled vest, and dusky crown;
Apparel meet for one, whose rest
Is on the open fallow's breast,
Tho' little apt to win the prize
Of elegance in common eyes.
But never yet was bosom found
So dull of sense to musick's sound,
As not to linger on the way,
And list to his ascending lay,
And upward gaze with straining sight,
And see him melting into light;
Till the eye fail its part to bear
In concert with the hearing ear:
And nought remain but what may seem
Imagination's fairy dream,
Or the sweet strain, if such things were,
Of Prospero's spirit in the air.
Who now, when fade the shadows dark,
Again exults to feel the reign
Of winter loose its pinching chain;
Again, as innocent as gay,
At heaven's gate sings his matin lay!
Plain is his suit of sober brown,
His speckled vest, and dusky crown;
Apparel meet for one, whose rest
Is on the open fallow's breast,
Tho' little apt to win the prize
Of elegance in common eyes.
24
So dull of sense to musick's sound,
As not to linger on the way,
And list to his ascending lay,
And upward gaze with straining sight,
And see him melting into light;
Till the eye fail its part to bear
In concert with the hearing ear:
And nought remain but what may seem
Imagination's fairy dream,
Or the sweet strain, if such things were,
Of Prospero's spirit in the air.
O for that strength of voice and wing,
To sing and soar, to soar and sing,
With all his joyousness of heart,
From earth's incumbrances apart;
And with heaven's denizens on high
To revel 'mid the calm clear sky!
But 'twill not be! Of mortal birth
Still earthly things will sink to earth.
As from his loftiest, longest flight,
From bathing in ethereal light,
The little bird descends again
To sojourn on the lowly plain:
So the rapt soul, howe'er she spring
Aloft on strong devotion's wing,
Must feel at times subdued her power;
And from her speculative tower
To earth with folded pinions droop,
And to material objects stoop.
O when, her earthly sojourn o'er,
Shall she for ever sing and soar!
To sing and soar, to soar and sing,
With all his joyousness of heart,
From earth's incumbrances apart;
And with heaven's denizens on high
To revel 'mid the calm clear sky!
But 'twill not be! Of mortal birth
Still earthly things will sink to earth.
As from his loftiest, longest flight,
From bathing in ethereal light,
The little bird descends again
To sojourn on the lowly plain:
So the rapt soul, howe'er she spring
Aloft on strong devotion's wing,
Must feel at times subdued her power;
And from her speculative tower
To earth with folded pinions droop,
And to material objects stoop.
O when, her earthly sojourn o'er,
Shall she for ever sing and soar!
25
Water-birds on our coasts. Wild-ducks and geese. Waders, swimmers, and divers. Select examples. Curlews; the Heron; Sea-pie; Gulls; Pochard; Wigeons; Bernacles; strange fiction concerning them; Great Northern Diver. Adaptation of his powers to his mode of life
Their feather'd tribes more scantly yield;
More full, the wintry coast along,
The assembled flocks of Ocean throng.
Some, native birds perennial: some
From inland moor or freshet come,
To winter on the fishy shore:
And some from far-off regions frore,
Where reigns uncheer'd a dayless night,
Have hither sped their annual flight.
Now o'er our heads compact they fly:
See! as we speak, careering high
A flock of Wild Ducks clouds the air,
In wedge-like shape triangular;
And Grey Geese there outstretch'd combine
Their troop in one unbroken line.
Now in small bands dispers'd, or each
His prey pursuing, o'er the beach
On long lank legs they wade; divide
Deep down the gulphy flood, and glide
Afar unseen; or rising meet
The breasting wave, with oary feet
Their strokes alternating advance,
And cleave secure the deep expanse.
Who could the multitudes describe
Profuse of Ocean's winged tribe?
Yet some of most conspicuous race
The Muse with graphick touch would trace,
As now, her watchful gaze before,
They harbour on the wintry shore.
Profuse of Ocean's winged tribe?
Yet some of most conspicuous race
The Muse with graphick touch would trace,
As now, her watchful gaze before,
They harbour on the wintry shore.
26
Along the salt sea's oozy verge,
Where wafted high the ebbing surge
Unshelter'd leaves the shelly fry;
Hark! the Curlew's tumultuous cry.
Not, as remote from human sight
In lonely pairs their vernal flight
They speed o'er heathy mountain rude,
Or some waste marsh's solitude,
In the tall grass, or bristling reed,
Their wild unnestled young to breed.
But now along the peopled coast,
In densely congregated host,
Yet heedful of the threatening gun,
Aloft on bluish legs they run:
Or delve, with slender bill and bow'd,
The yielding sand: or shouting loud,
To warn the comrades of their way,
Lest darkling from the line they stray,
Wake the dull night with startling sounds:
Well might you deem the deep-mouth'd hounds
Rais'd in full cry the huntsman's peal,
Or clamour'd for their morning meal.
Where wafted high the ebbing surge
Unshelter'd leaves the shelly fry;
Hark! the Curlew's tumultuous cry.
Not, as remote from human sight
In lonely pairs their vernal flight
They speed o'er heathy mountain rude,
Or some waste marsh's solitude,
In the tall grass, or bristling reed,
Their wild unnestled young to breed.
But now along the peopled coast,
In densely congregated host,
Yet heedful of the threatening gun,
Aloft on bluish legs they run:
Or delve, with slender bill and bow'd,
The yielding sand: or shouting loud,
To warn the comrades of their way,
Lest darkling from the line they stray,
Wake the dull night with startling sounds:
Well might you deem the deep-mouth'd hounds
Rais'd in full cry the huntsman's peal,
Or clamour'd for their morning meal.
On legs that scorn the circling tide,
And lift on high his unwash'd side,
His crested head right forward bent,
With well-pois'd bill, and eyes intent,
Like patient angler, on the strand
Behold the watchful Heron stand!
All ready, like the lightning's glance,
To strike, if heedless fish advance,
Or slimy reptile cross his way;
And gorge him with the struggling prey.
And lift on high his unwash'd side,
His crested head right forward bent,
With well-pois'd bill, and eyes intent,
Like patient angler, on the strand
Behold the watchful Heron stand!
All ready, like the lightning's glance,
To strike, if heedless fish advance,
Or slimy reptile cross his way;
And gorge him with the struggling prey.
27
And what are they, who roam the shore
Alert on active foot; explore
With wedge-like bill the oyster's shell;
Scoop from his rock-incrusting cell
The adhesive limpet; and upheave,
Where worms and sea-born insects cleave,
The weed-clad stone? The varied vest,
Sable and white; and oft the breast
With gorget white adorn'd; the bill
Of orange, with instinctive skill
Inform'd, and legs of sanguine die,
Bespeak the ocean-haunting Pie.
Alert on active foot; explore
With wedge-like bill the oyster's shell;
Scoop from his rock-incrusting cell
The adhesive limpet; and upheave,
Where worms and sea-born insects cleave,
The weed-clad stone? The varied vest,
Sable and white; and oft the breast
With gorget white adorn'd; the bill
Of orange, with instinctive skill
Inform'd, and legs of sanguine die,
Bespeak the ocean-haunting Pie.
More fleet on nimble wing the Gull
Sweeps booming by, intent to cull
Voracious from the billow's breast,
Mark'd far away, his destin'd feast.
Behold him now deep-plunging dip
His snowy pinion's sable tip
In the green wave: now lightly skim
With wheeling flight the water's brim,
Wave in blue sky his silver sail
Aloft, and frolick with the gale:
Or sink again, his breast to lave,
And float upon the foaming wave.
Oft o'er his form your eyes may roam,
Nor know him from the feathery foam:
Nor 'mid the roaring waves your ear,
Or yelling blast, his clamours hear.
Sweeps booming by, intent to cull
Voracious from the billow's breast,
Mark'd far away, his destin'd feast.
Behold him now deep-plunging dip
His snowy pinion's sable tip
In the green wave: now lightly skim
With wheeling flight the water's brim,
Wave in blue sky his silver sail
Aloft, and frolick with the gale:
Or sink again, his breast to lave,
And float upon the foaming wave.
Oft o'er his form your eyes may roam,
Nor know him from the feathery foam:
Nor 'mid the roaring waves your ear,
Or yelling blast, his clamours hear.
With cape and kerchief chestnut-red,
Enveloping his neck and head;
About his back and shoulders thrown
Of sable black a glossy zone,
Cincturing him round; beyond beset
With lines of silver and of jet
In thin alternate waves, which veil
The body to the silver tail:
His freckled wing the Pochard folds
From close compacted flight, and holds
His dwelling on the inland moor,
Or windings of the briny shore.
Enveloping his neck and head;
About his back and shoulders thrown
Of sable black a glossy zone,
28
With lines of silver and of jet
In thin alternate waves, which veil
The body to the silver tail:
His freckled wing the Pochard folds
From close compacted flight, and holds
His dwelling on the inland moor,
Or windings of the briny shore.
See, where the tide advancing bends
Along the oozy strand, extends
A column long and dark: and, lo!
A moment, and that long dark row
Is all in motion! See it pass
Brushing the smooth and liquid glass,
The sunshine hiding; like the breath
Of ruffling gales, the expanse beneath
Disturbing; or the inky shroud
Swift sailing of a showery cloud.
In marshall'd rank the Wigeons there
Are active for their fishy fare:
List! and perhaps, as off they fly,
You'll hear them pipe their gathering cry.
Along the oozy strand, extends
A column long and dark: and, lo!
A moment, and that long dark row
Is all in motion! See it pass
Brushing the smooth and liquid glass,
The sunshine hiding; like the breath
Of ruffling gales, the expanse beneath
Disturbing; or the inky shroud
Swift sailing of a showery cloud.
In marshall'd rank the Wigeons there
Are active for their fishy fare:
List! and perhaps, as off they fly,
You'll hear them pipe their gathering cry.
Of wings, which wavy crescents deck,
Grey, white, and black; of slender neck,
And head with sable crown'd; but light
The frontlet, and the cheeks of white;
Their dwelling with their kindred hold
The Clackis Geese. What fable old
With legendary fondness tells,
Of ship-wreck'd timber, and the shells
There form'd by ocean's plastick spume,
Instinct with life; till first the plume,
Then, each to each succeeding still,
The feet, the legs, the adhesive bill,
Protruded from the parent tree
Depend; and, plunging in the sea,
Fledg'd, and with active pow'rs indued,
The perfect monster swims the flood:
Such tales, by learned men of old
In grave and solemn lecture told,
We note but as a gage to span
The fond credulity of man:
And shew, not learning's ample prize
From folly will exempt the wise;
And science has, howe'er she deems,
Like poetry, her waking dreams.
Grey, white, and black; of slender neck,
And head with sable crown'd; but light
The frontlet, and the cheeks of white;
Their dwelling with their kindred hold
The Clackis Geese. What fable old
With legendary fondness tells,
Of ship-wreck'd timber, and the shells
There form'd by ocean's plastick spume,
Instinct with life; till first the plume,
29
The feet, the legs, the adhesive bill,
Protruded from the parent tree
Depend; and, plunging in the sea,
Fledg'd, and with active pow'rs indued,
The perfect monster swims the flood:
Such tales, by learned men of old
In grave and solemn lecture told,
We note but as a gage to span
The fond credulity of man:
And shew, not learning's ample prize
From folly will exempt the wise;
And science has, howe'er she deems,
Like poetry, her waking dreams.
And though not oft our warmer coast
May that illustrious stranger boast,
From Iceland's frost-form'd mountains cold,
And Norway's piny crags, behold
The speckled Loon! O'er all his back
Streams of rich plumes a mantle black,
Which rows of spangles white bedeck:
Black is his head, and black his neck:
Along his throat's alternate lines
A white and black embroidery shines,
Save where a fillet broad around,
Oblique, of velvet black is wound.
No purer white his native snows
On Norway's virgin wastes disclose:
Nor Iceland's sables give to view
A black of deeper, richer hue.
May that illustrious stranger boast,
From Iceland's frost-form'd mountains cold,
And Norway's piny crags, behold
The speckled Loon! O'er all his back
Streams of rich plumes a mantle black,
Which rows of spangles white bedeck:
Black is his head, and black his neck:
Along his throat's alternate lines
A white and black embroidery shines,
Save where a fillet broad around,
Oblique, of velvet black is wound.
No purer white his native snows
On Norway's virgin wastes disclose:
Nor Iceland's sables give to view
A black of deeper, richer hue.
Majestick bird! Tho' not to him
Belong the stately strength of limb,
To skim the earth; nor strong and swift
The wing to mount the cloudy drift;
The Bustard's rapid pace to ply,
Or soar on Eagle plumes the sky:
Than his, no swifter surer foot
O'er Ocean's buoyant breast to shoot
With arrowy speed; now there, now here,
Abrupt his mazy course to steer,
As sways the bark the guiding helm;
Deep in the yielding flood to whelm
His spotted plumes, and dart away
Impetuous for his finny prey;
Or from the depth emerge, and ride
Triumphant o'er the stormy tide.
Meet for the life he's form'd to lead,
Meet for the inhabitance decreed
To yield him refuge, food, abode,
His parts and pow'rs has God bestow'd.
So with his native home content,
He roves the allotted element.
And well are they, who duly choose,
Each in his proper sphere, to use
The parts and pow'rs by nature given,
Subservient to the will of heaven;
Nor, form'd to swim the waters, try
To pace the earth, or soar the sky!
Belong the stately strength of limb,
30
The wing to mount the cloudy drift;
The Bustard's rapid pace to ply,
Or soar on Eagle plumes the sky:
Than his, no swifter surer foot
O'er Ocean's buoyant breast to shoot
With arrowy speed; now there, now here,
Abrupt his mazy course to steer,
As sways the bark the guiding helm;
Deep in the yielding flood to whelm
His spotted plumes, and dart away
Impetuous for his finny prey;
Or from the depth emerge, and ride
Triumphant o'er the stormy tide.
Meet for the life he's form'd to lead,
Meet for the inhabitance decreed
To yield him refuge, food, abode,
His parts and pow'rs has God bestow'd.
So with his native home content,
He roves the allotted element.
And well are they, who duly choose,
Each in his proper sphere, to use
The parts and pow'rs by nature given,
Subservient to the will of heaven;
Nor, form'd to swim the waters, try
To pace the earth, or soar the sky!
Restricted vegetation. A January wreath. Honey-suckle leaves. Primrose. Daisy. Furze. Wall-flower. Catkins of the Hazel. Smaller Periwinkle. Ivy-leaved Toad-flax. Snow-drops, emblems of maiden loveliness
But winter still the juice restrains
In nature's vegetable veins:
And hard it were to braid a wreath
Of leaves and bloom from holt and heath,
From hedgerow bank and coppice bough,
To hang on January's brow.
In nature's vegetable veins:
And hard it were to braid a wreath
Of leaves and bloom from holt and heath,
31
To hang on January's brow.
Try we: and first, behold, we twine
The runners of the lithe woodbine,
The first of wilding race that weaves
In nature's loom its downy leaves,
And hangs in green festoons, that creep
O'er thorny brake or craggy steep,
Content to wait for May to spread
Its yellow tubes o'erlaid with red.
Alas! ere May arrive, with grief
He'll feel, now green, the blacken'd leaf,
Thrown prematurely forth to bear
The nipping frost, the blighting air.
The runners of the lithe woodbine,
The first of wilding race that weaves
In nature's loom its downy leaves,
And hangs in green festoons, that creep
O'er thorny brake or craggy steep,
Content to wait for May to spread
Its yellow tubes o'erlaid with red.
Alas! ere May arrive, with grief
He'll feel, now green, the blacken'd leaf,
Thrown prematurely forth to bear
The nipping frost, the blighting air.
And then of flow'rs the first, that shows
Its blossoms wild, the pale primrose,
With deeper tints of orange die
Irradiating its starlike eye,
Most lov'd for beauty as for smell,
From sunny slope in coppic'd dell
We'll pluck; or from the meadow's edge,
Or shelter of the hawthorn hedge,
Where, waking from unwelcome sleep,
Thro' wrinkled leaves the blossoms peep.
Its blossoms wild, the pale primrose,
With deeper tints of orange die
Irradiating its starlike eye,
Most lov'd for beauty as for smell,
From sunny slope in coppic'd dell
We'll pluck; or from the meadow's edge,
Or shelter of the hawthorn hedge,
Where, waking from unwelcome sleep,
Thro' wrinkled leaves the blossoms peep.
From lawn or field, from hedge or glade,
The daisy too shall lend her aid.
Tho' scentless, and throughout the year
Her blossoms too profuse she rear
To win regard; yet passing fair
The form to those who scan with care,
And nice the structure of the flow'r:
Chief when in winter's lonely hour
Her golden disk she half displays,
And tipt with pink her milkwhite rays.
The daisy too shall lend her aid.
Tho' scentless, and throughout the year
Her blossoms too profuse she rear
To win regard; yet passing fair
The form to those who scan with care,
And nice the structure of the flow'r:
Chief when in winter's lonely hour
32
And tipt with pink her milkwhite rays.
Fringing the fence or sandy wold
With blaze of vegetable gold,
The furze, (but ah, beware the thorn
Too oft 'mid brightest blossoms born!)
The furze shall yield its fragrant bloom.
Its colour bright, and rich perfume,
From time-dilapidated fort,
Or ruin'd abbey's cloyster'd court,
The golden wall-flow'r yield. And see,
As yet uncloth'd, the hazel tree
Prepares his early tufts to lend,
The coppice first-fruits; and depend
In russet drops, whose cluster'd rows,
Still clos'd in part, in part disclose,
Yet fenced beneath their scaly shed,
The pendent anther's yellow head.
With blaze of vegetable gold,
The furze, (but ah, beware the thorn
Too oft 'mid brightest blossoms born!)
The furze shall yield its fragrant bloom.
Its colour bright, and rich perfume,
From time-dilapidated fort,
Or ruin'd abbey's cloyster'd court,
The golden wall-flow'r yield. And see,
As yet uncloth'd, the hazel tree
Prepares his early tufts to lend,
The coppice first-fruits; and depend
In russet drops, whose cluster'd rows,
Still clos'd in part, in part disclose,
Yet fenced beneath their scaly shed,
The pendent anther's yellow head.
The wreath to garnish, all about
The whole, meandring in and out,
From woodland moist, or rugged bank,
Or wall of antique structure dank,
The glossy winkle too shall wind;
And ivy-foliag'd toadflax, twin'd
With purplish tendrils, gleaming through
Its dark-green leaves, and blossoms blue.
Tho' these perhaps you'll rather hold
Last lingering reliques of the old
And bygone year, than newly flung
Abroad, to decorate the young.
The whole, meandring in and out,
From woodland moist, or rugged bank,
Or wall of antique structure dank,
The glossy winkle too shall wind;
And ivy-foliag'd toadflax, twin'd
With purplish tendrils, gleaming through
Its dark-green leaves, and blossoms blue.
Tho' these perhaps you'll rather hold
Last lingering reliques of the old
And bygone year, than newly flung
Abroad, to decorate the young.
The wreath's complete: for more than these,
You'll scarce, the sight or smell to please,
Dull January's brows to bind,
In rural nature's wild walks find:
Unless the flow'rs you haply seek,
Of slender form, and posture meek,
And chaste attire, their names that owe,
If not their whiteness, to the snow.
Though call'd of February's race,
Yet oft the earlier season's grace,
In camp-crown'd Malvern's lonely leas,
Or on the rustick banks of Tees,
In orchard, mead, or grove, 'tis said,
Boon nature's gift, the drooping head
They bow: more oft the gardener's care
Repaying, deck the trim parterre,
In form, and attitude, and dress,
Meet types of maiden loveliness.
And oh, may Britain's maidens prize
The moral, which the type implies;
For ever cherish'd in the breast,
For ever on the life imprest;
And with unsullied lustre blow,
Pure as those imag'd drops of snow!
You'll scarce, the sight or smell to please,
33
In rural nature's wild walks find:
Unless the flow'rs you haply seek,
Of slender form, and posture meek,
And chaste attire, their names that owe,
If not their whiteness, to the snow.
Though call'd of February's race,
Yet oft the earlier season's grace,
In camp-crown'd Malvern's lonely leas,
Or on the rustick banks of Tees,
In orchard, mead, or grove, 'tis said,
Boon nature's gift, the drooping head
They bow: more oft the gardener's care
Repaying, deck the trim parterre,
In form, and attitude, and dress,
Meet types of maiden loveliness.
And oh, may Britain's maidens prize
The moral, which the type implies;
For ever cherish'd in the breast,
For ever on the life imprest;
And with unsullied lustre blow,
Pure as those imag'd drops of snow!
Repose of the Forest-trees. Trees in winter abound in interest and instruction. Incipient shoots of the Oak, Ash, Beech. Remarkable Appearance of the Elm, Horse-chestnut, Sycamore, Lime, Mountain-ash, Poplar, Willow, Birch, Alder. Curiously distinguished from each other. Cause of such distinction. Signs of the present Deity
But while, tho' scatter'd still and scant,
Now and again a humbler plant
Half-waken'd shows the early strife
Of nature struggling into life;
Nor leaf nor flow'r as yet unfurl'd,
The brethren of the woodland world
Reposing lie in slumber deep:
As if from that refreshing sleep
Their strength to renovate; and fling,
Reviving at the breath of spring,
Profuse their leaves and bloom around,
To scent the air, and clothe the ground.
Now and again a humbler plant
Half-waken'd shows the early strife
Of nature struggling into life;
Nor leaf nor flow'r as yet unfurl'd,
The brethren of the woodland world
Reposing lie in slumber deep:
As if from that refreshing sleep
34
Reviving at the breath of spring,
Profuse their leaves and bloom around,
To scent the air, and clothe the ground.
Is there, the naked wood who deems
A dead blank prospect? Yet meseems,
'Tis but a dull incurious eye,
Which on the vast variety
Can cast a casual glance, and sees
No interest in the wintry trees.
And 'tis an inconsiderate mind,
To nature's works and wonders blind,
Which scans the brethren of the glade,
Tho' of their vesture disarray'd,
And there discerns not sing on sign
Of heavenly wisdom, pow'r divine!
Tho' grander, lovelier to behold,
When they their yernal leaves unfold,
Or branch, bough, stem have thick array'd
With vesture deep of summer shade:
'Tis pleasing now at will to pore
On each uncover'd form; explore,
How each with head aspiring grows,
How each his arms expansive throws;
Mark bough, and branch, and tinted stem,
The pointed spray, the swelling gem:
And muse on that mysterious Pow'r,
Which day by day, and hour by hour,
In the dark covert, where he lurks
Unseen, with skill incessant works,
The dark deep places of the earth;
Till starts to life the curious birth,
And daily, hourly to the sight
More clear displays his plastick might.
A dead blank prospect? Yet meseems,
'Tis but a dull incurious eye,
Which on the vast variety
Can cast a casual glance, and sees
No interest in the wintry trees.
And 'tis an inconsiderate mind,
To nature's works and wonders blind,
Which scans the brethren of the glade,
Tho' of their vesture disarray'd,
And there discerns not sing on sign
Of heavenly wisdom, pow'r divine!
Tho' grander, lovelier to behold,
When they their yernal leaves unfold,
Or branch, bough, stem have thick array'd
With vesture deep of summer shade:
'Tis pleasing now at will to pore
On each uncover'd form; explore,
How each with head aspiring grows,
How each his arms expansive throws;
Mark bough, and branch, and tinted stem,
The pointed spray, the swelling gem:
And muse on that mysterious Pow'r,
Which day by day, and hour by hour,
In the dark covert, where he lurks
Unseen, with skill incessant works,
The dark deep places of the earth;
Till starts to life the curious birth,
35
More clear displays his plastick might.
See the vast Oak, with giant head,
And strong and gnarled arms outspread!
From branches thick and intertwin'd,
The yellow spray of smoother rind
Last year he shot abroad; and now
The summit of each harden'd bough,
Each knot, and swelling joint bestuds
With cluster'd bunch of yellow buds
Promiscuous; as by chance might seem,
If aught arrang'd by chance we deem
Of nature's works; but truly meant
With forethought deep, and wise intent,
To give the venerable tree
His own appropriate dignity,
His twisted limbs' extended length,
His sinewy joints, his massive strength.
And strong and gnarled arms outspread!
From branches thick and intertwin'd,
The yellow spray of smoother rind
Last year he shot abroad; and now
The summit of each harden'd bough,
Each knot, and swelling joint bestuds
With cluster'd bunch of yellow buds
Promiscuous; as by chance might seem,
If aught arrang'd by chance we deem
Of nature's works; but truly meant
With forethought deep, and wise intent,
To give the venerable tree
His own appropriate dignity,
His twisted limbs' extended length,
His sinewy joints, his massive strength.
Its buds on either side oppos'd
In couples each to each, enclos'd
In caskets black and hard as jet,
The Ash-tree's graceful branch beset;
The branch, which, cloth'd in modest grey,
Sweeps gracefully with easy sway,
And still in after life preserves
The bending of its infant curves.
In couples each to each, enclos'd
In caskets black and hard as jet,
The Ash-tree's graceful branch beset;
The branch, which, cloth'd in modest grey,
Sweeps gracefully with easy sway,
And still in after life preserves
The bending of its infant curves.
Where wide, not quite dismantled, reach
The branches of the o'erhanging Beech,
Alternate on the limber twigs
Elongate, sharp, the turgid sprigs
In zigzag course ascend; and crown
The tender rind of polish'd brown
With purplish cones, close-wrapt beneath,
Fold within fold, a scaly sheath;
Which stripp'd, e'en now within is seen
The branch of tooth-edg'd leafits green,
All but in size the branch complete,
Which April's genial warmth shall greet.
The branches of the o'erhanging Beech,
Alternate on the limber twigs
Elongate, sharp, the turgid sprigs
In zigzag course ascend; and crown
The tender rind of polish'd brown
36
Fold within fold, a scaly sheath;
Which stripp'd, e'en now within is seen
The branch of tooth-edg'd leafits green,
All but in size the branch complete,
Which April's genial warmth shall greet.
These, and unnumber'd more, each tree
Of vale or upland, grove or lea,
Which, 'mid its last year's ruins bare,
Shows buds of future promise fair:
Of circuit wide, and stature tall,
The Elm, that sprouts with germins small,
Alternate, still but dimly seen
Up the young twig of grey and green;
The freshness of whose native tints
Time not as yet with stamp imprints
Of vegetable rust, nor mars
Its smoothness with deep furrow'd scars:—
Horse-chestnut, foremost of the wood
To dare his lengthening gems protrude,
Dark, clammy, hard; prepar'd the first
To hear th' enlivening call; and burst,
With foliage cleft, and spiral bloom,
The cearments of that living tomb:—
The branching Sycamore, that veils
His folded shoots in dark green scales;
While still, as on the fabrick goes,
Each pair, to each succeeding, shows
Its produce in a transverse line,
That step by step they all combine
To frame, by constant interchange,
Of crosslike forms a gradual range:—
The taper Lime's compacted head,
With twigs and buds of coral red:—
The Mountain-Ash erect, that rears
His shafts, a plump of bristling spears,
That shake and rattle in the gale:—
With bending sweep, the Poplar pale
Of shapely form, and graceful mien:
And Willows, with their trunk of green,
Whose branches of bright orange dye
With tints of brighter crimson vie:—
The Birch, with spray of russet dark,
In contrast with his silvery bark,
Save where peel'd off the silver shows
The duskier coat in circling rows:—
With pendants loose the Alder hung,
The cradles of his leaves among,
Of catkins yet unclos'd, which throw
O'er all the tree a purple glow:—
They're curious all! Tho' oft they lie
Unnotic'd by the saunterer's eye,
And squeamish taste perchance may deem
They're little meet for poet's theme;
They're curious all! In shape and size
Distinct; in station, order, dies;
But form'd alike by unseen cause
To execute the unvarying laws
On each of old imprest, and still
Give proof of one o'erruling will;
Alike within its native mould
All their allotted charge infold;
All by mysterious means bestow
The nurture, whence their charge may grow;
All at the season's fulness bare
The embryo leaf to spring-tide's air,
And clothe the woodland's deepening scene
With varied tints of tender green:
Each leaf to its appropriate kind
In shape and varying tint confined,
As now each swelling bud we see
Peculiar to its parent tree.
Of vale or upland, grove or lea,
Which, 'mid its last year's ruins bare,
Shows buds of future promise fair:
Of circuit wide, and stature tall,
The Elm, that sprouts with germins small,
Alternate, still but dimly seen
Up the young twig of grey and green;
The freshness of whose native tints
Time not as yet with stamp imprints
Of vegetable rust, nor mars
Its smoothness with deep furrow'd scars:—
Horse-chestnut, foremost of the wood
To dare his lengthening gems protrude,
Dark, clammy, hard; prepar'd the first
To hear th' enlivening call; and burst,
With foliage cleft, and spiral bloom,
The cearments of that living tomb:—
The branching Sycamore, that veils
His folded shoots in dark green scales;
While still, as on the fabrick goes,
Each pair, to each succeeding, shows
Its produce in a transverse line,
That step by step they all combine
To frame, by constant interchange,
Of crosslike forms a gradual range:—
37
With twigs and buds of coral red:—
The Mountain-Ash erect, that rears
His shafts, a plump of bristling spears,
That shake and rattle in the gale:—
With bending sweep, the Poplar pale
Of shapely form, and graceful mien:
And Willows, with their trunk of green,
Whose branches of bright orange dye
With tints of brighter crimson vie:—
The Birch, with spray of russet dark,
In contrast with his silvery bark,
Save where peel'd off the silver shows
The duskier coat in circling rows:—
With pendants loose the Alder hung,
The cradles of his leaves among,
Of catkins yet unclos'd, which throw
O'er all the tree a purple glow:—
They're curious all! Tho' oft they lie
Unnotic'd by the saunterer's eye,
And squeamish taste perchance may deem
They're little meet for poet's theme;
They're curious all! In shape and size
Distinct; in station, order, dies;
But form'd alike by unseen cause
To execute the unvarying laws
On each of old imprest, and still
Give proof of one o'erruling will;
Alike within its native mould
All their allotted charge infold;
All by mysterious means bestow
The nurture, whence their charge may grow;
38
The embryo leaf to spring-tide's air,
And clothe the woodland's deepening scene
With varied tints of tender green:
Each leaf to its appropriate kind
In shape and varying tint confined,
As now each swelling bud we see
Peculiar to its parent tree.
What secret cause, what ruling will,
By some unceasing impulse still
Prompts upward from the buried root
Through the firm trunk the sprouting shoot;
Prepares the twig, the branch, the bough,
Instructs them when to act and how,
And gives each bud its station due,
Each leaf its figure and its hue?
How holds the oak, the ash, the beech,
The mode of being, which in each
We witness? Every tree that grows,
How fix they, each his germs in rows
Peculiar? How does each display
By his own laws the sprouting spray?
Nor swerve his neighbour's to embrace,
From time's first birth, from race to race?
By some unceasing impulse still
Prompts upward from the buried root
Through the firm trunk the sprouting shoot;
Prepares the twig, the branch, the bough,
Instructs them when to act and how,
And gives each bud its station due,
Each leaf its figure and its hue?
How holds the oak, the ash, the beech,
The mode of being, which in each
We witness? Every tree that grows,
How fix they, each his germs in rows
Peculiar? How does each display
By his own laws the sprouting spray?
Nor swerve his neighbour's to embrace,
From time's first birth, from race to race?
'Tis not in Horeb's Mount alone
The present Deity is shown.
As he, who tended there of old,
The shepherd Seer, his father's fold,
And saw the burning bush give sign
Distinct of influence divine:
In every bush, and plant, and tree,
Whoe'er hath eyes to see, may see,
In leaf or blossom, branch or stem,
In half-form'd bud, or sprouting gem,
Signs of celestial pow'r appear,
And in his works their Cause revere.
Teems with his presence every sod,
And every hill's a mount of God!
The present Deity is shown.
As he, who tended there of old,
The shepherd Seer, his father's fold,
And saw the burning bush give sign
Distinct of influence divine:
In every bush, and plant, and tree,
Whoe'er hath eyes to see, may see,
39
In half-form'd bud, or sprouting gem,
Signs of celestial pow'r appear,
And in his works their Cause revere.
Teems with his presence every sod,
And every hill's a mount of God!
43
FEBRUARY.
Dark calm weather in February. Interchange of storms and sunshine. Frost succeeded by sunny days
There is at times a solemn gloom,
Ere yet the lovely Spring assume
Sole empire, with the lingering cold
Content divided sway to hold;
A sort of interreign, which throws
On all around a dull repose,
Dull, not unpleasing: when the rest
Nor rain, nor snow, nor winds molest;
Nor aught by listening ear is heard,
Save first-fruit notes of vernal bird,
Alone, or with responsive call,
Or sound of tinkling waterfall.
Yet is no radiant brightness seen
To pierce the clouds' opposing skreen,
Or hazy vapour; and illume
The thickness of that solemn gloom.
Ere yet the lovely Spring assume
Sole empire, with the lingering cold
Content divided sway to hold;
A sort of interreign, which throws
On all around a dull repose,
Dull, not unpleasing: when the rest
Nor rain, nor snow, nor winds molest;
Nor aught by listening ear is heard,
Save first-fruit notes of vernal bird,
Alone, or with responsive call,
Or sound of tinkling waterfall.
Yet is no radiant brightness seen
To pierce the clouds' opposing skreen,
Or hazy vapour; and illume
The thickness of that solemn gloom.
Such is the garb, his natal morn
Oft times by February worn:
And such the garment that arrays
Full often his succeeding days.
Oft times by February worn:
And such the garment that arrays
Full often his succeeding days.
Not but the wind will sometimes wake
From slumber, and tumultuous shake
The season's stillness, and deform
Its face with rain or sleety storm
Severe, ungenial: not but oft
From his meridian throne aloft
The sun with radiant face will smile
Of cloudless lustre; or awhile
Through clouds, in part dismember'd, show
A transient glance, and partial throw
Bright lights, with many a mingled mass
Of dark broad shade, o'er yon smooth glass
Of brimming waves, yon mountain's breast,
And this fair landscape; or invest
The cloudy pile with golden gleams,
As rolling, wreath on wreath, it seems
Like that white Mount, which soaring high
O'er the brown rocks of Meillery,
And thy blue lake, Geneva, shows
His crown of everlasting snows.
From slumber, and tumultuous shake
The season's stillness, and deform
Its face with rain or sleety storm
Severe, ungenial: not but oft
From his meridian throne aloft
44
Of cloudless lustre; or awhile
Through clouds, in part dismember'd, show
A transient glance, and partial throw
Bright lights, with many a mingled mass
Of dark broad shade, o'er yon smooth glass
Of brimming waves, yon mountain's breast,
And this fair landscape; or invest
The cloudy pile with golden gleams,
As rolling, wreath on wreath, it seems
Like that white Mount, which soaring high
O'er the brown rocks of Meillery,
And thy blue lake, Geneva, shows
His crown of everlasting snows.
Oft too, when night has mantled o'er
Lawn, pasture, tilth, with vesture hoar
Of dew-born frostwork; if his beams
Pour round the sky in rosy streams,
Soon is that vesture hoar withdrawn
From pasture, tilth, and level lawn;
And nought remains to tell the tale,
Save where not yet his rays prevail,
White stripes the inclosure's crisped edge
Define; and on the sparkling sedge
By filmy pond, or grassy stem,
Hangs trembling many a liquid gem.
Lawn, pasture, tilth, with vesture hoar
Of dew-born frostwork; if his beams
Pour round the sky in rosy streams,
Soon is that vesture hoar withdrawn
From pasture, tilth, and level lawn;
And nought remains to tell the tale,
Save where not yet his rays prevail,
White stripes the inclosure's crisped edge
Define; and on the sparkling sedge
By filmy pond, or grassy stem,
Hangs trembling many a liquid gem.
Opportunities for more extended excursions. Home, its enjoyments. Local attachment felt generally by animals. Exemplified in the Thrush, Blackbird, and Redbreast
But shine or not the glorious sun,
Mid his bright rays, or thro' the dun
Calm shadow of that solemn gloom,
Tis pleasant to enlarge the room
Of speculation's grateful task:
And, as from nature's face the mask
Is more and more remov'd, the sight
That cover'd of her features bright;
Still more and more from covert free
Of that delightful face to see,
And haply more to rove afield;
But still, by strong attraction held,
With ready step, where'er we roam,
Returning to our pleasant home.
Mid his bright rays, or thro' the dun
Calm shadow of that solemn gloom,
Tis pleasant to enlarge the room
45
And, as from nature's face the mask
Is more and more remov'd, the sight
That cover'd of her features bright;
Still more and more from covert free
Of that delightful face to see,
And haply more to rove afield;
But still, by strong attraction held,
With ready step, where'er we roam,
Returning to our pleasant home.
Home! 'Tis a word of magick sound:
Comprising in its ample round
More bliss, than in this state below
Aught else of human can bestow!
Compos'd of innocent delights;
The useful days, the tranquil nights;
The pleasure, from within that flows,
Nor need of strange excitement knows,
Nor with o'er-powering zest annoys,
Nor with o'er-satiate fulness cloys;
The time that flies with downy pace,
So swift, so soft, nor leaves a trace
To mark the stages left behind;
The interchange of mind with mind
In friendliest converse, and the ties
Of the heart's dearest sympathies.
Comprising in its ample round
More bliss, than in this state below
Aught else of human can bestow!
Compos'd of innocent delights;
The useful days, the tranquil nights;
The pleasure, from within that flows,
Nor need of strange excitement knows,
Nor with o'er-powering zest annoys,
Nor with o'er-satiate fulness cloys;
The time that flies with downy pace,
So swift, so soft, nor leaves a trace
To mark the stages left behind;
The interchange of mind with mind
In friendliest converse, and the ties
Of the heart's dearest sympathies.
But lives there not within the heart,
From that more holy love apart
Which knits us to our friends and race,
A sense of fondness for the place,
Where we our bygone days have dwelt?
Is not such sense of fondness felt,
Not by the human kind alone,
But wide o'er living creatures sown?
Nor to domestick flocks and herds
Confin'd, but spreading to the birds,
Which, free as air far-off to rove,
Yet harbour in the place they love?
From that more holy love apart
Which knits us to our friends and race,
A sense of fondness for the place,
46
Is not such sense of fondness felt,
Not by the human kind alone,
But wide o'er living creatures sown?
Nor to domestick flocks and herds
Confin'd, but spreading to the birds,
Which, free as air far-off to rove,
Yet harbour in the place they love?
If not, then wherefore do we hear
That Throstle's daily warble clear,
Perch'd on the wonted beechen tree,
As if he ne'er could weary be
Or of his sojourn, or his song?
And why, our daily walk along,
Hear we the whistling Blackbird rush
Forth from the custom'd laurel bush?
Why from that wall or arbute spray
Does Robin sing his daily lay,
Content and anxious to maintain
The limits of his little reign,
Nor fain to share another's throne,
Nor to another yield his own?
That Throstle's daily warble clear,
Perch'd on the wonted beechen tree,
As if he ne'er could weary be
Or of his sojourn, or his song?
And why, our daily walk along,
Hear we the whistling Blackbird rush
Forth from the custom'd laurel bush?
Why from that wall or arbute spray
Does Robin sing his daily lay,
Content and anxious to maintain
The limits of his little reign,
Nor fain to share another's throne,
Nor to another yield his own?
Yes, so it is. Place has a charm
To pleasure them: and as from harm
Exempt, and care, the livelong day
They pass rejoicing, thus they say
To restless spirits, “Wherefore roam
Abroad for pleasure? Seek at home
The lingerer; and with us confess
Home is the abode of happiness!”
To pleasure them: and as from harm
Exempt, and care, the livelong day
They pass rejoicing, thus they say
To restless spirits, “Wherefore roam
Abroad for pleasure? Seek at home
The lingerer; and with us confess
Home is the abode of happiness!”
Approach of pairing time. Connexion of links in nature's chain. Coincidence of the pairing of birds with reviving vegetation. Old fancy concerning St. Valentine's day. Its history uncertain. General notion founded on nature
47
Or use, a second nature, taught,
The birds the kindly influence prove
Of place; another mightier love
Awaits them: now the advancing year
Moves onward in its due career
Another step; and swelling buds
Thro' February's fields and woods
Begin, tho' slowly, to expand,
And tell of pairing time at hand.
Strange is the order, and combines
With numberless conspicuous signs,
Proofs of the vast directing mind,
To show what links together bind
The works of nature, and sustain
The whole by one pervading chain.
With numberless conspicuous signs,
Proofs of the vast directing mind,
To show what links together bind
The works of nature, and sustain
The whole by one pervading chain.
'Tis passing wonderful to see
The budding, sprouting, leaf-clad tree.
'Tis passing wonderful to trace
The progress of the feather'd race;
The nest; the egg; at length indued
With life and strength, the full-fledg'd brood.
But doubly wondrous is the thought
Of signs like these together brought,
Each in one chain a separate link:
'Tis doubly wonderful to think,
That the same genial breath, which wakes
To being new the woods and brakes,
Should wake the flame, that lay supprest
And slumbering in the feather'd breast:
That the same hand, the woodland scene
Which mantles with its leafy skreen,
Should for his plum'd creation form
That skreen a shelter close and warm,
And lodge therein reviving food
Exhaustless for the future brood.
The budding, sprouting, leaf-clad tree.
'Tis passing wonderful to trace
The progress of the feather'd race;
The nest; the egg; at length indued
With life and strength, the full-fledg'd brood.
But doubly wondrous is the thought
Of signs like these together brought,
Each in one chain a separate link:
'Tis doubly wonderful to think,
That the same genial breath, which wakes
To being new the woods and brakes,
Should wake the flame, that lay supprest
And slumbering in the feather'd breast:
48
Which mantles with its leafy skreen,
Should for his plum'd creation form
That skreen a shelter close and warm,
And lodge therein reviving food
Exhaustless for the future brood.
It was a dream of fancy old,
The dream Dan Chaucer's rhymes have told,
How things that be, of every kind,
In pairs created were, and join'd,
“By even number of accord:”
Whence “Vicar of the Almighty Lord,”
O'erruling Nature gave the sign
Each day of good Saint Valentine,
For every bird, that wings the air,
To choose his make; and every pair
Together then to speed away,
And her controlling laws obey.
The dream Dan Chaucer's rhymes have told,
How things that be, of every kind,
In pairs created were, and join'd,
“By even number of accord:”
Whence “Vicar of the Almighty Lord,”
O'erruling Nature gave the sign
Each day of good Saint Valentine,
For every bird, that wings the air,
To choose his make; and every pair
Together then to speed away,
And her controlling laws obey.
The fable still its hold maintains
With rural England's cottage swains.
And still, as still returns the day
Of good Saint Valentine, they say
The little birds their partners take;
And each, with its selected make,
Begins their annual course prepare
Of household joys, and household care.
With rural England's cottage swains.
And still, as still returns the day
Of good Saint Valentine, they say
The little birds their partners take;
And each, with its selected make,
Begins their annual course prepare
Of household joys, and household care.
What with the tenants of the groves,
Their joys and cares, their homes and loves,
Has good Saint Valentine to do;
And whence the pleasing fiction grew;
And when, and where, and how began
The tales, which with that holy man,
Who fought till death the Christian fight,
Those feather'd choristers unite;
I skill not: and in sober sooth
But little know they of the truth,
Who with a keener vision pore
On tales of legendary lore.
But the good Saint whate'er befall,
'Tis no unpleasing thought that all
The feather'd kind to Nature's voice
Obedient listen, and rejoice
Together, sprightly all and gay,
On that their general wedding-day.
Their joys and cares, their homes and loves,
Has good Saint Valentine to do;
And whence the pleasing fiction grew;
49
The tales, which with that holy man,
Who fought till death the Christian fight,
Those feather'd choristers unite;
I skill not: and in sober sooth
But little know they of the truth,
Who with a keener vision pore
On tales of legendary lore.
But the good Saint whate'er befall,
'Tis no unpleasing thought that all
The feather'd kind to Nature's voice
Obedient listen, and rejoice
Together, sprightly all and gay,
On that their general wedding-day.
Yes: 'tis a pleasing kindly thought!
And, tho' from fiction's region brought,
(For deem we not 'tis Nature's aim
Her works with such design to frame
Correlative, that each must own
Its stated counterpart alone;
Nor that the selfsame day must bind
In wedlock all the feather'd kind:)
The thought no less from nature's law
May seem its origin to draw;
Based on that high Creative Will,
Which with profound unfailing skill,
And wisdom passing human eye
The secrets of its depths to try,
Each sex in numbers wellnigh even
To every different kind has given;
And prompts full many a plumed breast
About the sainted Martyr's feast,
If not the selfsame day, to woo
His future consort, and pursue
The sweet solicitudes that wait
The nuptial and parental state.
And, tho' from fiction's region brought,
(For deem we not 'tis Nature's aim
Her works with such design to frame
Correlative, that each must own
Its stated counterpart alone;
Nor that the selfsame day must bind
In wedlock all the feather'd kind:)
The thought no less from nature's law
May seem its origin to draw;
Based on that high Creative Will,
Which with profound unfailing skill,
And wisdom passing human eye
The secrets of its depths to try,
Each sex in numbers wellnigh even
To every different kind has given;
And prompts full many a plumed breast
About the sainted Martyr's feast,
50
His future consort, and pursue
The sweet solicitudes that wait
The nuptial and parental state.
Pairing time. Courtship of birds. Rivalry. Infirmity common to all earthly things. Nestling places. Choice of them the result of natural instinct
For now how beats, with love imprest,
Each little bird's impassion'd breast!
What arts, what blandishments he tries,
For favour in his lov'd one's eyes!
How does he strut, and flutter round,
And beat with quivering wing the ground;
And now recede, and now advance,
With courteous chirp, and ogling glance;
Now prune his painted feathers sleek
With comb-like claw, and oily beak;
Now, if she fly from place to place,
Pursue her in the amorous chase;
And sidling up with loaded bill
Proffer sweet morsels; and with skill
Love-tutor'd, perch'd on neighbouring tree
Pour forth his soul in harmony:
Now higher still, and still more high,
Unlocking all the tones that lie
Imprison'd in his tuneful throat;
And now, with softer, sweeter note,
Warbling, as if “with Lydian measures”
He sought to “soothe her soul to pleasures!”
Each little bird's impassion'd breast!
What arts, what blandishments he tries,
For favour in his lov'd one's eyes!
How does he strut, and flutter round,
And beat with quivering wing the ground;
And now recede, and now advance,
With courteous chirp, and ogling glance;
Now prune his painted feathers sleek
With comb-like claw, and oily beak;
Now, if she fly from place to place,
Pursue her in the amorous chase;
And sidling up with loaded bill
Proffer sweet morsels; and with skill
Love-tutor'd, perch'd on neighbouring tree
Pour forth his soul in harmony:
Now higher still, and still more high,
Unlocking all the tones that lie
Imprison'd in his tuneful throat;
And now, with softer, sweeter note,
Warbling, as if “with Lydian measures”
He sought to “soothe her soul to pleasures!”
Then if a rival venture by,
How does his alter'd voice defy
The intruder rash, with hostile tone,
Loud, ardent, fierce! nor voice alone,
But bitter deeds of fell despight,
And blows, and wounds, and mortal fight!
Ah! who would think such passions fell
Within such lovely forms could dwell,
And to such notes discordant move
The voice so lately tun'd to love?
But 'tis the weakness of their kind:
And love, which prompts each little mind
Affection's fondest signs to show
To those they love, on rival foe
Prompts them no less the wrong to wreak,
With talon bent, and pointed beak;
Their wrath by every vent to spend,
Their wish to gain, and gain'd defend.
How does his alter'd voice defy
The intruder rash, with hostile tone,
Loud, ardent, fierce! nor voice alone,
51
And blows, and wounds, and mortal fight!
Ah! who would think such passions fell
Within such lovely forms could dwell,
And to such notes discordant move
The voice so lately tun'd to love?
But 'tis the weakness of their kind:
And love, which prompts each little mind
Affection's fondest signs to show
To those they love, on rival foe
Prompts them no less the wrong to wreak,
With talon bent, and pointed beak;
Their wrath by every vent to spend,
Their wish to gain, and gain'd defend.
Yes! 'tis a grateful sight to see
“Birds in their little nests agree:”
And grateful is the sound to hear
Their lively chirp, their warble clear,
Unprompted, unconstrain'd by art,
Spontaneous from the swelling heart!
But birds, like other things of earth,
Give symptoms of terrestrial birth:
And join with all that breathe to show,
That nought is perfect here below;
And, who would taste unmingled love,
Must quaff it from its Fount above.
But these harsh bickerings pass we o'er,
“Birds in their little nests agree:”
And grateful is the sound to hear
Their lively chirp, their warble clear,
Unprompted, unconstrain'd by art,
Spontaneous from the swelling heart!
But birds, like other things of earth,
Give symptoms of terrestrial birth:
And join with all that breathe to show,
That nought is perfect here below;
And, who would taste unmingled love,
Must quaff it from its Fount above.
The future dwelling to explore
In hedge, or copse, or hollow glen;
What time at length the yielding hen,
52
Or mien, or courteous acts, her choice
Has made; and with her troth-plight spouse
Threads the close covert of the boughs,
Or careful marks the tangled hedge,
Or on slope bank the shelter'd ledge,
Or cavern'd nook, or blooming spray,
The fortunes of their house to lay.
For copse, or nook, or bank, or brake,
All their appropriate homestead make,
As from the birth day of the race
All-guiding nature shows the place,
And prompts each dwelling to prepare,
And teaches when, and how, and where.
No project of inventive will,
Nor fruit of imitative skill,
Attent with heedful care to view,
And, what is done by others, do
Observant: but at first imprest
By God on every plumed breast,
What time he form'd, and gave to fly
Throughout the wide expanded sky
The fowls, and bade each feather'd birth
“Increase and multiply” on earth!
He gave the law; and taught the way
Withal his precept to obey;
Taught them the season when to wed,
And where to hang “the procreant bed,”
And with nice touch and just design
The art-defying fabrick twine.
Early pairers. Blackbirds, their nest. Thrushes, their nest exquisitely lined. Missel Thrushes, their nest protected from rain. General likeness and particular distinctions among congenerous birds
53
The first of nuptial bonds the care,
At least among the first, to share,
“The Ouzel-cock, so black of hue,
With orange tawny bill ,” who flew
About the lawn each morning grey,
And pick'd his food for many a day
Alone, now hopping side by side
Devotes him to his dusky bride:
Anon the o'erarching boughs between
Of some selected evergreen,
Of laurel thick, or branching fir,
Or bed of pleasant lavender,
To lodge secure their pendant home;
A well-wove frame, with moisten'd loam
Within cemented, and without
Rough, but compactly all about
With moss and fibrous roots intwin'd,
And wither'd bent-grass softly lin'd,
Where may repose in season due
Their pregnant balls of chalky blue,
Besprent about the flatten'd crown
With pallid spots of chestnut brown.
At least among the first, to share,
“The Ouzel-cock, so black of hue,
With orange tawny bill ,” who flew
About the lawn each morning grey,
And pick'd his food for many a day
Alone, now hopping side by side
Devotes him to his dusky bride:
Anon the o'erarching boughs between
Of some selected evergreen,
Of laurel thick, or branching fir,
Or bed of pleasant lavender,
To lodge secure their pendant home;
A well-wove frame, with moisten'd loam
Within cemented, and without
Rough, but compactly all about
With moss and fibrous roots intwin'd,
And wither'd bent-grass softly lin'd,
Where may repose in season due
Their pregnant balls of chalky blue,
Besprent about the flatten'd crown
With pallid spots of chestnut brown.
Nor less to hold in season due
Her spotted eggs of chalky blue,
Or in the thorn or holly bush,
Or hedge, or furzy brake, the Thrush
Her twig and moss-inwoven nest
Shall fashion; and with plastick breast,
And bill with native moisture fraught,
Smooth the thin coat, from stable sought
Or stall, with rounded form to line
The cup-like fabrick's plaited twine.
The mystick voice, that bids her build,
Or ere the sprouted foliage shield
Her dwelling from the biting air,
Bids her no less her home prepare
Impervious to the impending storm,
A chinkless mansion, close and warm.
Nor he, who now impatient wooes
Her love, shall he the meed refuse
Assistant of connubial aid:
And, perching on the half-form'd shade
Of April's fresh and tender spray,
Shall cheer her with his mellow lay.
Her spotted eggs of chalky blue,
Or in the thorn or holly bush,
Or hedge, or furzy brake, the Thrush
Her twig and moss-inwoven nest
Shall fashion; and with plastick breast,
And bill with native moisture fraught,
Smooth the thin coat, from stable sought
54
The cup-like fabrick's plaited twine.
The mystick voice, that bids her build,
Or ere the sprouted foliage shield
Her dwelling from the biting air,
Bids her no less her home prepare
Impervious to the impending storm,
A chinkless mansion, close and warm.
Nor he, who now impatient wooes
Her love, shall he the meed refuse
Assistant of connubial aid:
And, perching on the half-form'd shade
Of April's fresh and tender spray,
Shall cheer her with his mellow lay.
They too, of kindred stock, who claim,
The Missel-birds, the thrushes name,
Their matrimonial league complete,
Anon shall seek their favourite seat
Or in the orchard or the wold:
To grasp the nest a forked hold,
Where, parted from the parent stem,
Apple or pine, the branching limb
Shows its rough bark, and o'er it stray
The pale green moss, and lichens grey.
Wove with the nest, a mingled mass
Of earth, and twigs, and twisted grass,
But all with prudent choice arrang'd,
Compact, and duly interchang'd,
Soon shall those lichens grey be seen,
And mossy sprigs of whitish green;
Or, failing such, of fibrous roots,
And the young larch's limber shoots,
And thatch-like straw, a wicker drain,
With refuse of the keen-edg'd plane,
A drip-stone, whence, the nest beside,
The drops of trickling rain may glide.
The Missel-birds, the thrushes name,
Their matrimonial league complete,
Anon shall seek their favourite seat
Or in the orchard or the wold:
To grasp the nest a forked hold,
Where, parted from the parent stem,
Apple or pine, the branching limb
Shows its rough bark, and o'er it stray
The pale green moss, and lichens grey.
Wove with the nest, a mingled mass
Of earth, and twigs, and twisted grass,
But all with prudent choice arrang'd,
Compact, and duly interchang'd,
Soon shall those lichens grey be seen,
And mossy sprigs of whitish green;
Or, failing such, of fibrous roots,
And the young larch's limber shoots,
55
With refuse of the keen-edg'd plane,
A drip-stone, whence, the nest beside,
The drops of trickling rain may glide.
Well may you mark with curious eyes,
And pay the search with pleas'd surprise,
What signs unite, what signs divide,
These birds congenerous; allied,
But differing still, their kinds among,
In make, and hue, and pow'r of song,
And place of revelry and rest,
And weaving of each curious nest!
And so 'tis strange, 'tis passing strange,
And wonderful, throughout the range
Of nature's varied works to see,
What likeness, what diversity,
In all her cognate tribes is shown:
All by their marks peculiar known;
Possessing all some common grace,
As brethren of a kindred race.
Mysterious law! which thus defines
The old hereditary lines,
That part the kindred sorts, or bind
Together in one general kind:
That all the signs primeval show
Of general likeness; none can go
A step those primal signs beyond:
Each special mark, the common bond,
Fruits of the same unerring skill,
And order'd by the same high will!
And pay the search with pleas'd surprise,
What signs unite, what signs divide,
These birds congenerous; allied,
But differing still, their kinds among,
In make, and hue, and pow'r of song,
And place of revelry and rest,
And weaving of each curious nest!
And so 'tis strange, 'tis passing strange,
And wonderful, throughout the range
Of nature's varied works to see,
What likeness, what diversity,
In all her cognate tribes is shown:
All by their marks peculiar known;
Possessing all some common grace,
As brethren of a kindred race.
Mysterious law! which thus defines
The old hereditary lines,
That part the kindred sorts, or bind
Together in one general kind:
That all the signs primeval show
Of general likeness; none can go
A step those primal signs beyond:
Each special mark, the common bond,
Fruits of the same unerring skill,
And order'd by the same high will!
56
Sky-lark. His low nestling place, and lofty flight. His descent. His soaring interrupted by a bird of prey.
On grassy mead or stubble field
The Sky-lark now begins to build,
Low on the ridg'd and hollow ground,
Of leaves and speargrass loosely wound
And matted twine of horses' hair,
His homely dwelling. Small the care
It seems to boast; but well the place
Select, and habits of the race,
That thatch'd and sloping fabrick fits:
Where thro' the storm the female sits,
And aids with outspread plumes to throw
The rain-drops from her charge below.
The Sky-lark now begins to build,
Low on the ridg'd and hollow ground,
Of leaves and speargrass loosely wound
And matted twine of horses' hair,
His homely dwelling. Small the care
It seems to boast; but well the place
Select, and habits of the race,
That thatch'd and sloping fabrick fits:
Where thro' the storm the female sits,
And aids with outspread plumes to throw
The rain-drops from her charge below.
Few choose their nursling's place of rest
So lowly as the Sky-lark's nest:
None seek to reach the Sky-lark's height,
So steep, so far, so long a flight.
See, how he spreads his quivering wings;
And sweeping round in spiral rings,
Now rising, rising, rising still,
Mounts upward, while his raptures thrill
The sky with gladness! See him there,
While hovering in the liquid air,
Self-balanc'd o'er his nest he floats,
And chaunts his lively, joyous notes,
Concluding never, still beginning,
The ear to mute attention winning
As easily the livelong hour
Pois'd on his high aerial tower,
As from the thrush the warbles flow
Perch'd on his budding tree below.
Thence down, and down, and down again,
With yet unspent, unwearied strain,
He sinks: till near his consort's nest,
A moment, and his wings are prest
Close to his sides; the warble stops;
And stone-like by her side he drops.
So lowly as the Sky-lark's nest:
None seek to reach the Sky-lark's height,
So steep, so far, so long a flight.
See, how he spreads his quivering wings;
And sweeping round in spiral rings,
Now rising, rising, rising still,
Mounts upward, while his raptures thrill
The sky with gladness! See him there,
While hovering in the liquid air,
Self-balanc'd o'er his nest he floats,
And chaunts his lively, joyous notes,
Concluding never, still beginning,
The ear to mute attention winning
As easily the livelong hour
Pois'd on his high aerial tower,
As from the thrush the warbles flow
Perch'd on his budding tree below.
Thence down, and down, and down again,
With yet unspent, unwearied strain,
57
A moment, and his wings are prest
Close to his sides; the warble stops;
And stone-like by her side he drops.
But, mark! while warbling yet on high,
Why, in the twinkling of an eye,
Is oft the song of rapture mute
At once? at once the pinions shut?
At once his steep and soaring flight
Ceas'd? till with slanting wing he light
Aloof, and thence with beating breast
Creep cowering to his lowly nest?
Why, in the twinkling of an eye,
Is oft the song of rapture mute
At once? at once the pinions shut?
At once his steep and soaring flight
Ceas'd? till with slanting wing he light
Aloof, and thence with beating breast
Creep cowering to his lowly nest?
'Tis his keen sense, tho' far away,
The approach, wide prowling for his prey,
Of beak'd and talon'd Hawk has caught,
Or gliding Kite; and, quick as thought,
Down drops he! But, alas, I fear,
Destruction has already here
Been busy. Lo! that clotted mass
Of feathers on the blood-red grass,
Cast recklessly yon tree beneath,
Tells a sad tale of spoil and death!
The approach, wide prowling for his prey,
Of beak'd and talon'd Hawk has caught,
Or gliding Kite; and, quick as thought,
Down drops he! But, alas, I fear,
Destruction has already here
Been busy. Lo! that clotted mass
Of feathers on the blood-red grass,
Cast recklessly yon tree beneath,
Tells a sad tale of spoil and death!
Return of rooks to their rookery. Strange choice of populous situations. More fond of retired places. Building of their nests. Fondness for congregating. Internal discipline. Seeming sense of equity. Mutual kindness. Jealousy of different colonies. Hostility between rooks and herons
His eyry now the clamorous Rook,
Who in th' autumnal months forsook,
For brake or forest's wider realm,
His native grove of oak or elm,
Revisits. Lo, not here and there
Disperst, a solitary pair;
But thick, and clustering like a swarm
Of bees, their residence to form,
The commonwealth collected crowd,
Tumultuous, wild, loquacious, loud.
Who in th' autumnal months forsook,
For brake or forest's wider realm,
His native grove of oak or elm,
Revisits. Lo, not here and there
Disperst, a solitary pair;
But thick, and clustering like a swarm
Of bees, their residence to form,
58
Tumultuous, wild, loquacious, loud.
Tho' oft the groves of elm-trees tall
They haunt, that flank some antique hall,
Or cast their solemn shade around
Some village churchyard's hallow'd ground,
Retir'd, as if to them were sweet
The stillness of such lone retreat:
Yet oft, no less, mid towered town,
Some lofty range they make their own,
Uninjur'd; where the quenchless noise
Of jocund task-remitted boys,
Well pleas'd, or busy hum of men,
They hear, and back return agen,
With caw, and croak, and stunning cry
From all their wild democraty.
Nor have there wanted some, 'tis said,
Who fix'd at times their procreant bed
In populous city, fain to dwell
On star-ypointing pinnacle,
Or tapering spire of holy fane,
And nestle on the changeful vane.
They haunt, that flank some antique hall,
Or cast their solemn shade around
Some village churchyard's hallow'd ground,
Retir'd, as if to them were sweet
The stillness of such lone retreat:
Yet oft, no less, mid towered town,
Some lofty range they make their own,
Uninjur'd; where the quenchless noise
Of jocund task-remitted boys,
Well pleas'd, or busy hum of men,
They hear, and back return agen,
With caw, and croak, and stunning cry
From all their wild democraty.
Nor have there wanted some, 'tis said,
Who fix'd at times their procreant bed
In populous city, fain to dwell
On star-ypointing pinnacle,
Or tapering spire of holy fane,
And nestle on the changeful vane.
But rarer such: the planted grove
More apt their freewill choice to prove.
There when first spring their fervour wakes,
And calls them from the woods and brakes,
Both young and old the accustom'd trees
Eye with nice care sagacious: these
The ruins of the former year
Afresh to garnish: those to rear
On branch of wise selection, scann'd
With prudent thought mature, and plann'd
By rule and gage to nature true,
The fabrick of their mansions new:
Of twig-form'd framework, close and strong,
“Clench'd overthwart and endèlong .”
Like Mars's adamantine door,
Renown'd in knightly tale of yore,
Tho' not “of iron tough,” of root
More meet the use design'd to suit;
“Close,” to protect from piercing air,
And “strong,” the rocking blasts to bear.
More apt their freewill choice to prove.
There when first spring their fervour wakes,
And calls them from the woods and brakes,
Both young and old the accustom'd trees
Eye with nice care sagacious: these
The ruins of the former year
Afresh to garnish: those to rear
On branch of wise selection, scann'd
With prudent thought mature, and plann'd
59
The fabrick of their mansions new:
Of twig-form'd framework, close and strong,
“Clench'd overthwart and endèlong .”
Like Mars's adamantine door,
Renown'd in knightly tale of yore,
Tho' not “of iron tough,” of root
More meet the use design'd to suit;
“Close,” to protect from piercing air,
And “strong,” the rocking blasts to bear.
From tree to tree the fabricks grow;
From bough to bough, above, below,
Its post the aspiring town maintains,
Stage above stage: so strongly reigns
The love implanted in their breasts,
In league their congregated nests
To build, and, tho' not void of strife,
Confederate lead a social life.
From bough to bough, above, below,
Its post the aspiring town maintains,
Stage above stage: so strongly reigns
The love implanted in their breasts,
In league their congregated nests
To build, and, tho' not void of strife,
Confederate lead a social life.
Thus the same branch, they held of old,
Each ancient pair now claims to hold
Of right, by all the experienc'd crowd
Of seniors as of right allow'd.
But if a pair, not duly school'd,
Nor by the common charter rul'd,
Nor by respect for age controll'd,
Presumptuous, forward, rash, and bold;
A junior pair, for youth, it seems,
Oft of its proper state misdeems;
If such a pair presume to seize
A station on the well-known trees,
Before appropriate; or perchance
Too near the sacred bound advance
Of old propriety; or dare
Unduly sought materials bear:
How shall they soon the deed bemoan!
Not by the injur'd pair alone
Pursued, but by a general throng
Combin'd by sentence just the wrong
To punish, and the right defend
Legitimate, and picemeal rend
The rash invader's work design'd,
And cast it to the scattering wind.
Each ancient pair now claims to hold
Of right, by all the experienc'd crowd
Of seniors as of right allow'd.
But if a pair, not duly school'd,
Nor by the common charter rul'd,
Nor by respect for age controll'd,
Presumptuous, forward, rash, and bold;
A junior pair, for youth, it seems,
Oft of its proper state misdeems;
If such a pair presume to seize
A station on the well-known trees,
60
Too near the sacred bound advance
Of old propriety; or dare
Unduly sought materials bear:
How shall they soon the deed bemoan!
Not by the injur'd pair alone
Pursued, but by a general throng
Combin'd by sentence just the wrong
To punish, and the right defend
Legitimate, and picemeal rend
The rash invader's work design'd,
And cast it to the scattering wind.
It seems a feeling undefin'd
Of natural justice prompts their mind,
To give the rightful sufferer aid,
Th' intruder punish. And 'tis said,
If by mischance or ruthless wound
Distrest, a brother bird be found,
Griev'd at his grief, with cheering cry
And wing advancing on, they try
To guide him to their airy height,
And help to take the homeward flight.
And sure it soothes the mind to think,
They, whom the laws of nature link
In being, thus with kindly heart
Each with his fellows bear a part.
A rule of love, howe'er imprest
On them, not always learn'd, at least
Not always kept, by those, who boast
In nature's scale a loftier post!
Of natural justice prompts their mind,
To give the rightful sufferer aid,
Th' intruder punish. And 'tis said,
If by mischance or ruthless wound
Distrest, a brother bird be found,
Griev'd at his grief, with cheering cry
And wing advancing on, they try
To guide him to their airy height,
And help to take the homeward flight.
And sure it soothes the mind to think,
They, whom the laws of nature link
In being, thus with kindly heart
Each with his fellows bear a part.
A rule of love, howe'er imprest
On them, not always learn'd, at least
Not always kept, by those, who boast
In nature's scale a loftier post!
But, ah! where one confederate race
Has fix'd their wonted dwelling place,
Let no presumptuous strangers dare
Attempt intrusively to share
Their fortunes, lest disastrous flight
And death the misplaced trust requite.
Nor where the Rooks have set their rest,
Let the tall Herons seek their nest
To settle, lest they lead the way
To dire debate, and mortal fray:
Till these or those the mastery yield
Disabled of the foughten field.
Ah! fruitless then become the cares,
Which now attend the nuptial pairs:
The male's endearments fian to wait
With food upon his cherish'd mate,
Like parent on his tender brood;
The female's fond return, the food
Accepting, which her partner brings,
With trembling voice and fluttering wings!
Has fix'd their wonted dwelling place,
61
Attempt intrusively to share
Their fortunes, lest disastrous flight
And death the misplaced trust requite.
Nor where the Rooks have set their rest,
Let the tall Herons seek their nest
To settle, lest they lead the way
To dire debate, and mortal fray:
Till these or those the mastery yield
Disabled of the foughten field.
Ah! fruitless then become the cares,
Which now attend the nuptial pairs:
The male's endearments fian to wait
With food upon his cherish'd mate,
Like parent on his tender brood;
The female's fond return, the food
Accepting, which her partner brings,
With trembling voice and fluttering wings!
Raven's nest a formidable neighbour. Their favourite nestling places and habits. Connubial and parental attachment. Injuries to the sheepfold and poultry yard. Instruction to be derived from them
Nor less disastrous is their lot,
If near the old accustom'd spot,
Alike to household cares addrest,
The Raven plant his early nest.
If near the old accustom'd spot,
Alike to household cares addrest,
The Raven plant his early nest.
Ill-omen'd bird! with mind intent
On spoil, and thoughts on slaughter bent,
Thence oft he'll sally for his prey,
The rook's young nestlings; and away
Bear them triumphant off, for food
To glut his own voracious brood.
On spoil, and thoughts on slaughter bent,
Thence oft he'll sally for his prey,
The rook's young nestlings; and away
Bear them triumphant off, for food
To glut his own voracious brood.
Ill-omen'd bird! Nay rather speed
Far, far away, thy young to breed
In some secluded silent wood;
Or in some cavern'd solitude,
That beetles o'er the sullen deep;
Or ruin'd castle's ivied steep!
There from thy old coeval oak
Toll forth thy melancholy croak!
There, issuing from thy ghostly haunt,
On gloomy wing the traveller daunt!
Or from thy eyry in the sky
Look down with keen and piercing eye,
And mark thy destin'd carrion food,
Or scent afar the smell of blood!
But here thy ravages forbear,
And our innocuous neighbours spare!
Far, far away, thy young to breed
62
Or in some cavern'd solitude,
That beetles o'er the sullen deep;
Or ruin'd castle's ivied steep!
There from thy old coeval oak
Toll forth thy melancholy croak!
There, issuing from thy ghostly haunt,
On gloomy wing the traveller daunt!
Or from thy eyry in the sky
Look down with keen and piercing eye,
And mark thy destin'd carrion food,
Or scent afar the smell of blood!
But here thy ravages forbear,
And our innocuous neighbours spare!
Farewell! Tho' all thy worth allow,
Tenacious of the nuptial vow;
Fain with perennial zeal to share
Thy glossy make's regards and care,
To feed her with thy gather'd spoil,
Or ease her from the brooding toil:—
Farewell! tho' deep with love imbued
So constant for thy future brood,
That, while thy nesting place around
The wood re-echoed to the sound
Of saw, and wedge, and driving mall,
And the tree nodded to its fall;
Still did the dam refuse to quit
Her nest and future young, and sit
Undaunted, till with sweepy sway
Of trunk, and branch, and branching spray
Down, down the forest-monarch rush'd,
And dam, nest, young together crush'd :
What tho' our kindly feelings move
Thy nuptial and parental love,
Farewell! we would not fain espy
Thy wicker nest our dwelling nigh,
Nor hear thy ill-foreboding tone;
Lest not the rookery alone
Unpeopled cease its sportive cries;
But for his youngling's ravag'd eyes,
What time he tells his daily tale,
The disappointed shepherd wail;
And her plum'd flock the housewife mourn,
To thy unsparing plunder lorn!
Tenacious of the nuptial vow;
Fain with perennial zeal to share
Thy glossy make's regards and care,
To feed her with thy gather'd spoil,
Or ease her from the brooding toil:—
Farewell! tho' deep with love imbued
So constant for thy future brood,
That, while thy nesting place around
The wood re-echoed to the sound
Of saw, and wedge, and driving mall,
And the tree nodded to its fall;
Still did the dam refuse to quit
Her nest and future young, and sit
Undaunted, till with sweepy sway
Of trunk, and branch, and branching spray
63
And dam, nest, young together crush'd :
What tho' our kindly feelings move
Thy nuptial and parental love,
Farewell! we would not fain espy
Thy wicker nest our dwelling nigh,
Nor hear thy ill-foreboding tone;
Lest not the rookery alone
Unpeopled cease its sportive cries;
But for his youngling's ravag'd eyes,
What time he tells his daily tale,
The disappointed shepherd wail;
And her plum'd flock the housewife mourn,
To thy unsparing plunder lorn!
Yet fail we not meanwhile to draw
Instruction from the bounteous law,
Which rules thy being. Tho' thou know
Nor time the fruitful seed to “sow;”
Nor time the golden crop to “reap,”
And “store the barn's” o'erflowing heap ;
Yet dost thou find prepar'd thy food
Ev'n in the desert's solitude:
For He, who made thee, hears thy cries,
Thy wish regards, thy want supplies.
Alas! what feeble faith is our's!
Who, blest with reasonable powers,
The speaking voice, the conscious heart,
The soul that grasps, from sense apart,
Heaven's glories in its boundless scope,
And, most of all, the heavenly hope;
Raise not to Him the fervent pray'r,
Nor thank his providential care,
Nor trust in Him, who gives us all,
And listens to the raven's call !
Instruction from the bounteous law,
Which rules thy being. Tho' thou know
Nor time the fruitful seed to “sow;”
Nor time the golden crop to “reap,”
And “store the barn's” o'erflowing heap ;
Yet dost thou find prepar'd thy food
Ev'n in the desert's solitude:
For He, who made thee, hears thy cries,
Thy wish regards, thy want supplies.
Alas! what feeble faith is our's!
Who, blest with reasonable powers,
The speaking voice, the conscious heart,
The soul that grasps, from sense apart,
Heaven's glories in its boundless scope,
And, most of all, the heavenly hope;
64
Nor thank his providential care,
Nor trust in Him, who gives us all,
And listens to the raven's call !
Partridges early in pairing, but not in breeding. Their affection
Tho' not, as yet, the pleasing cares
And toils of progeny they know.
Hard is their dwelling place; and low
Their nest 'mid tangled grass is found
Constructed on the hollow'd ground,
Materials rude, with slender art
Arrang'd: but their's the better part
With care combin'd the tender brood
To hatch, to rear, to call, with food
To nourish from the ant-hills nigh.
And often with distressful cry,
And limping gait that feigns a wound,
And shivering wings, along the ground
They run by ways diverging; so
To puzzle, if injurious foe
Their unprotected home molest,
And lead him from their nursling's nest.
Sure 'tis a voice divine, that dwells
Within, and prompts the thought, and tells
Their course by some mysterious sign:
And sure to us that voice divine
Speaks, and by such example draws
To follow its recorded laws;
Bids us the partridge' zeal approve,
And copy their parental love.
65
Singing of Birds. Goldfinch, Yellow Hammer, Blue Tit, Marsh Tit, Pied Wagtail, Stone Curlew, Pheasant, Ring Dove, Brown Owl, Woodpecker, Wood Lark. Times of singing varied by circumstances. Hampshire. White of Selborne. Personal observation needful
But hark! where'er abroad you come,
Each throat, untun'd erewhile and dumb,
With song, the bosom's joy that tells,
The many mingled concert swells.
Each throat, untun'd erewhile and dumb,
With song, the bosom's joy that tells,
The many mingled concert swells.
Of scarlet front and golden wing
The Finch now makes the orchard ring
With his sweet melody: a note
Sounds from the Bunting's citron throat
Less tuneful by the hedgerow way.
Sequester'd 'mid the budding spray
The Blue-cap chirps: and sharp and harsh
His brother from the willow'd marsh.
From water'd mead, or streamlet's side,
More softly sings the Wagtail pied.
'Mid the gray flints, on breezy hill
Or sheep-fed heath the clamour shrill,
While his dim form eludes the view,
Sounds distant of the Stone-curlew.
Along the green wheat's sprouting rows
The stately Pheasant struts; or crows
In thicket hid; or sudden springs,
And with his loud and whirring wings
Startles unseen the awaken'd ear
Of careless wanderer pacing near.
Within the yet unmantled grove,
Reciting vows of faithful love,
With changeful plumes, and plaintive coo,
Their mates the glossy Ring-doves woo,
And sinking low, or rising high,
Alternate fan the buxom sky.
There the Brown Owl begins to hoot:
And he, the bird of olive suit,
With front of black and crimson gay,
And yellow rump, the Poppinjay
With sharp strokes of his orange bill,
And cry of “yaffle, yaffle,” shrill,
Makes the far-echoing wood resound.
And sweetest Woodlark, round and round
Wide wheeling, on his circling flight,
Or pendent from his airy height,
Or perch'd upon the forest tree,
In fullest tide of minstrelsy
To her, who sits the grass among,
Pours forth his morning, evening song.
The Finch now makes the orchard ring
With his sweet melody: a note
Sounds from the Bunting's citron throat
Less tuneful by the hedgerow way.
Sequester'd 'mid the budding spray
The Blue-cap chirps: and sharp and harsh
His brother from the willow'd marsh.
From water'd mead, or streamlet's side,
More softly sings the Wagtail pied.
'Mid the gray flints, on breezy hill
Or sheep-fed heath the clamour shrill,
While his dim form eludes the view,
Sounds distant of the Stone-curlew.
Along the green wheat's sprouting rows
The stately Pheasant struts; or crows
In thicket hid; or sudden springs,
And with his loud and whirring wings
Startles unseen the awaken'd ear
Of careless wanderer pacing near.
Within the yet unmantled grove,
Reciting vows of faithful love,
With changeful plumes, and plaintive coo,
Their mates the glossy Ring-doves woo,
And sinking low, or rising high,
Alternate fan the buxom sky.
There the Brown Owl begins to hoot:
And he, the bird of olive suit,
66
And yellow rump, the Poppinjay
With sharp strokes of his orange bill,
And cry of “yaffle, yaffle,” shrill,
Makes the far-echoing wood resound.
And sweetest Woodlark, round and round
Wide wheeling, on his circling flight,
Or pendent from his airy height,
Or perch'd upon the forest tree,
In fullest tide of minstrelsy
To her, who sits the grass among,
Pours forth his morning, evening song.
As, instinct-led, each various race
Finds its peculiar dwelling-place,
The difference much of site and clime;
And much the accidents of time,
As vernal gales and cheering rays
Speed more or less the genial days;
Still varying in its annual round,
The date of each recurring sound
Affect. But mostly sounds like these
The ear of February please,
Where health with rural pleasure roves
Thy chalky hills and beechen groves,
My native Hampshire! Such the notes,
Which from thy feather'd songsters' throats
Were heard by him, among the best
Of nature's chroniclers confest;
What time thro' every hollow lane
Of his lov'd Selborne's rustick reign,
By rushy pool, and living well,
Thro' dingle, brake, and bosky dell,
O'er cavern'd hill, and hanging wood,
Her course unwearied he pursued
Year after year with heedful ken;
And mark'd with his recording pen
Each feature in the annual range,
Of wonted use, or new and strange.
Finds its peculiar dwelling-place,
The difference much of site and clime;
And much the accidents of time,
As vernal gales and cheering rays
Speed more or less the genial days;
Still varying in its annual round,
The date of each recurring sound
Affect. But mostly sounds like these
The ear of February please,
Where health with rural pleasure roves
Thy chalky hills and beechen groves,
My native Hampshire! Such the notes,
Which from thy feather'd songsters' throats
Were heard by him, among the best
Of nature's chroniclers confest;
What time thro' every hollow lane
Of his lov'd Selborne's rustick reign,
By rushy pool, and living well,
Thro' dingle, brake, and bosky dell,
67
Her course unwearied he pursued
Year after year with heedful ken;
And mark'd with his recording pen
Each feature in the annual range,
Of wonted use, or new and strange.
And he, whoe'er the charms would know,
Which nature's varied features show,
Pleas'd with each native sound and sight,
Like thee, her own delightful White,
To visit her abodes must choose:
Nor studious of repose, refuse
On breezy down, or winding coombe,
Or in the woodland thicket's gloom,
By brook or stream, on meadow pied,
Or on the heathery mountain's side,
To woo her sweet society;
Nor be content to hear and see
With others' eyes and ears alone,
But mark and ponder with his own!
Which nature's varied features show,
Pleas'd with each native sound and sight,
Like thee, her own delightful White,
To visit her abodes must choose:
Nor studious of repose, refuse
On breezy down, or winding coombe,
Or in the woodland thicket's gloom,
By brook or stream, on meadow pied,
Or on the heathery mountain's side,
To woo her sweet society;
Nor be content to hear and see
With others' eyes and ears alone,
But mark and ponder with his own!
Many objects escape slight notice: instanced in mosses. Their general dissemination: their beauty and uses. Signs of divine power and benignity
What countless scenes evade the sense,
Which, scann'd with due intelligence,
For ceaseless observation yield
A pleasing, an instructive field!
What nice, what universal care
O'er spots, that barren seem and bare,
Of nature's varied sphere extends
Its influence! Yet how often sends
The eye its casual glance around,
And deems that all is lifeless ground,
Which still with active force is rife,
And teems with vegetable life!
Which, scann'd with due intelligence,
For ceaseless observation yield
A pleasing, an instructive field!
What nice, what universal care
O'er spots, that barren seem and bare,
Of nature's varied sphere extends
Its influence! Yet how often sends
The eye its casual glance around,
And deems that all is lifeless ground,
68
And teems with vegetable life!
Look round! while winter's lingering power
Checks the coy spring, no pleasant flower
May seem to animate the view.
But look again! the glance renew
With more discriminating eyes,
You'll see with pleasure and surprise
With liveliness and beauty spread,
What lifeless seem'd, and dull, and dead!
Checks the coy spring, no pleasant flower
May seem to animate the view.
But look again! the glance renew
With more discriminating eyes,
You'll see with pleasure and surprise
With liveliness and beauty spread,
What lifeless seem'd, and dull, and dead!
On upland hill; in lowland vale;
And where the frigid vapours sail,
Mantling the Alpine mountains hoar;
On granite rock, or boggy moor,
On peat-clad marsh, or sandy heath,
Or hillock's grassy slope; beneath
The hedgerow fence, and on the bank,
Fring'd with the plumed osier dank,
Of streamlet, pool, or waterfall;
On wave-wash'd stone, or plaster'd wall;
On tree of forest, or of fruit,
The bark-clad trunk, the heaving root;
Or where the spring with oozy slime
Slides trickling down the rifted lime;
Or where the gravelly pathway leads
Thro' shady woods, o'er plashy meads:
Exulting in the wintry cold,
Their cups the mossy tribes unfold;
Fring'd, and beneath a coping hid
Of filmy veil, and convex lid,
On many a thread-like stalk, bespread
With yellow, brown, or crimson red,
In contrast with the leaves of green,
A velvet carpet, where the queen
Of fairies might in triumph lie,
And view their elvish revelry,
Soft as the cygnet's downy plume,
Or produce of the silk-worm's loom.
And where the frigid vapours sail,
Mantling the Alpine mountains hoar;
On granite rock, or boggy moor,
On peat-clad marsh, or sandy heath,
Or hillock's grassy slope; beneath
The hedgerow fence, and on the bank,
Fring'd with the plumed osier dank,
Of streamlet, pool, or waterfall;
On wave-wash'd stone, or plaster'd wall;
On tree of forest, or of fruit,
The bark-clad trunk, the heaving root;
Or where the spring with oozy slime
Slides trickling down the rifted lime;
Or where the gravelly pathway leads
Thro' shady woods, o'er plashy meads:
Exulting in the wintry cold,
Their cups the mossy tribes unfold;
Fring'd, and beneath a coping hid
Of filmy veil, and convex lid,
On many a thread-like stalk, bespread
With yellow, brown, or crimson red,
69
A velvet carpet, where the queen
Of fairies might in triumph lie,
And view their elvish revelry,
Soft as the cygnet's downy plume,
Or produce of the silk-worm's loom.
Survey them by the unaided eye:
And, if the seeds within you lie
Of love for natural beauty true,
They'll shoot enliven'd at the view
Of hair or feather-mantled stem,
The wavy stalk, the fringed gem,
Enveloping its chalic'd fruit;
So fair, so perfect, so minute,
That bursting forth the seeds may seem
A floating cloud of vapoury steam.
And, if the seeds within you lie
Of love for natural beauty true,
They'll shoot enliven'd at the view
Of hair or feather-mantled stem,
The wavy stalk, the fringed gem,
Enveloping its chalic'd fruit;
So fair, so perfect, so minute,
That bursting forth the seeds may seem
A floating cloud of vapoury steam.
Or, by the microscopick glass
Survey'd, you'll see how far surpass
The works of Nature, in design,
And texture delicately fine,
And perfectness of every part,
Each effort of mimetick art.
Survey'd, you'll see how far surpass
The works of Nature, in design,
And texture delicately fine,
And perfectness of every part,
Each effort of mimetick art.
And deem not that for grace alone
These beauteous plants are round us thrown.
But rather deem them wisely spread
A living carpet o'er the bed
Of earth's too shallow soil, to meet
Alternacies of cold and heat:—
When, busy at the sprouting root,
The frost would mar the juicy shoot,
A shelter from the nipping air;
From heat a shelter, which might mar
The fibres, wither'd by the blaze,
Unshielded, of the solar rays:—
A nucleus, to collect the mould
On barren spots uncloth'd; a hold,
The mould unscatter'd to retain
By blowing winds or flooding rain.
And as the gardener's watchful care
The ground, of native clothing bare,
Indues with vegetative soil;
And with the waste's collected spoil
The tender plants expos'd defends:
So the Great Gardener mindful sends
These mossy tribes, wherewith to shun
The pinching frost, the scorching sun.
These beauteous plants are round us thrown.
But rather deem them wisely spread
A living carpet o'er the bed
Of earth's too shallow soil, to meet
Alternacies of cold and heat:—
When, busy at the sprouting root,
The frost would mar the juicy shoot,
A shelter from the nipping air;
From heat a shelter, which might mar
70
Unshielded, of the solar rays:—
A nucleus, to collect the mould
On barren spots uncloth'd; a hold,
The mould unscatter'd to retain
By blowing winds or flooding rain.
And as the gardener's watchful care
The ground, of native clothing bare,
Indues with vegetative soil;
And with the waste's collected spoil
The tender plants expos'd defends:
So the Great Gardener mindful sends
These mossy tribes, wherewith to shun
The pinching frost, the scorching sun.
And what if some remoter lie,
Beyond the reach of reason's eye
Their scope to fathom, and produce
More of delight perhaps than use;—
Delight to them that look abroad
For pleasure to the works of God,
More than of use to them who rate
All objects by their worldly weight:—
They form, with millions more, a sign
Of that all-gracious will benign,
Which made so fair as well as good
This pleasant earth; and not for food
His Eden fram'd, but for delight
As well of smelling and of sight.
Yet not of that, as useless deem,
Which can be made his glory's theme,
Who form'd it; at his will which rose,
Which at his will perpetual grows,
And joins with all in heav'n above
And earth beneath his pow'r to prove,
How great in all his works confest,
In none more great than in the least!
Beyond the reach of reason's eye
Their scope to fathom, and produce
More of delight perhaps than use;—
Delight to them that look abroad
For pleasure to the works of God,
More than of use to them who rate
All objects by their worldly weight:—
They form, with millions more, a sign
Of that all-gracious will benign,
Which made so fair as well as good
This pleasant earth; and not for food
His Eden fram'd, but for delight
As well of smelling and of sight.
Yet not of that, as useless deem,
Which can be made his glory's theme,
Who form'd it; at his will which rose,
Which at his will perpetual grows,
71
And earth beneath his pow'r to prove,
How great in all his works confest,
In none more great than in the least!
Lichens abundant in winter. Their curious appearance. Foundation for their vegetation. Protection against cold. The goatherd and Laplander. Capt. Franklin on his Arctick expedition
Or would you haply wish to trace
The wonders of the lichen race;
Cold but congenial to their kinds
The wintry air pervades, unbinds,
The tubercled and warty crust,
Which, in the summer heat adust,
Now swoln with moisture, spreads around
In shapes fantastick; and the ground,
Stones, rocks, and walls, and heathy waste,
And branching tree exhibits, cased
In spots with many a shining boss,
Or mingles with the verdant moss;
Prank'd like “the snake's enamell'd skin,”
Fit “weed to wrap a fairy in ;”
With hues as manifold as glow
Embroider'd on the heavenly bow.
The wonders of the lichen race;
Cold but congenial to their kinds
The wintry air pervades, unbinds,
The tubercled and warty crust,
Which, in the summer heat adust,
Now swoln with moisture, spreads around
In shapes fantastick; and the ground,
Stones, rocks, and walls, and heathy waste,
And branching tree exhibits, cased
In spots with many a shining boss,
Or mingles with the verdant moss;
Prank'd like “the snake's enamell'd skin,”
Fit “weed to wrap a fairy in ;”
With hues as manifold as glow
Embroider'd on the heavenly bow.
Perhaps you worthless deem, and by
Have past them with fastidious eye.
Yet not as such esteem'd by those,
Who mark how parent Nature throws
Oft o'er the desert's rocky scene
Her garb of vegetable green:
First on the barren surface bare,
Nurs'd by the fostering rain and air,
The lichen thin: a shallow base,
Whereon the sprouting moss may place
Its slender root, whence slowly spread,
Of width and depth increas'd, a bed
Is form'd to bear by just degrees
The bushy shrubs, the branching trees.
Have past them with fastidious eye.
Yet not as such esteem'd by those,
Who mark how parent Nature throws
Oft o'er the desert's rocky scene
Her garb of vegetable green:
First on the barren surface bare,
Nurs'd by the fostering rain and air,
72
Whereon the sprouting moss may place
Its slender root, whence slowly spread,
Of width and depth increas'd, a bed
Is form'd to bear by just degrees
The bushy shrubs, the branching trees.
Not worthless deem'd by those who note,
How, mantled by the fostering coat
Of moss or lichen, as below
The warm but less enduring snow,
The earth, else bare, with winter copes
Unchill'd; and on the mountain slopes,
What else might sink the tempest's spoil,
Retains the well-compacted soil.
How, mantled by the fostering coat
Of moss or lichen, as below
The warm but less enduring snow,
The earth, else bare, with winter copes
Unchill'd; and on the mountain slopes,
What else might sink the tempest's spoil,
Retains the well-compacted soil.
Not worthless deem'd by those who mark,
How from the thick incrusted bark
Of pine, or stones or mantled rock,
The goatherd sees his shaggy flock
Cull their scant meal; or on the wild
Uncultur'd wastes how Lapland's child
Collects the self-sown plants, to cheer,
His only wealth, the good rein-deer.
How from the thick incrusted bark
Of pine, or stones or mantled rock,
The goatherd sees his shaggy flock
Cull their scant meal; or on the wild
Uncultur'd wastes how Lapland's child
Collects the self-sown plants, to cheer,
His only wealth, the good rein-deer.
And sure not worthless deem'd by thee,
When with thy brethren of the sea,
'Twas thine far, far, away from home
Mid Arctick frost and storms to roam,
Brave Franklin! Leagu'd with storm and frost,
Toil, pain, and care, when famine crost
And faced thee with thy little band;
The force of her unnerving hand
By many a direful symptom shown,
The voice's deep sepulchral tone,
The expanded eye, the ghastly look,
The impatient thought infirm to brook
Ev'n friendship's proffer'd service kind,
The rambling tongue, the staggering mind;
Then did thy God a table dress,
Deep in the snow-clad wilderness,
With lichens from their rocky bed,
Thy staff of life, thy daily bread:
And home return'd thee safe to show,
How, from the lowest depth of woe,
Means, if He will, most weak may tend
To generate the wish'd-for end:
How well becomes the gallant mind
Firm faith, with dauntless courage join'd,
And piety: how well the sense
Of His o'erruling providence,
In his celestial teaching bold,
And strengthen'd by his strength, can hold
'Gainst hopelessness successful strife,
And triumph o'er the ills of life!
When with thy brethren of the sea,
'Twas thine far, far, away from home
Mid Arctick frost and storms to roam,
Brave Franklin! Leagu'd with storm and frost,
Toil, pain, and care, when famine crost
And faced thee with thy little band;
The force of her unnerving hand
By many a direful symptom shown,
The voice's deep sepulchral tone,
73
The impatient thought infirm to brook
Ev'n friendship's proffer'd service kind,
The rambling tongue, the staggering mind;
Then did thy God a table dress,
Deep in the snow-clad wilderness,
With lichens from their rocky bed,
Thy staff of life, thy daily bread:
And home return'd thee safe to show,
How, from the lowest depth of woe,
Means, if He will, most weak may tend
To generate the wish'd-for end:
How well becomes the gallant mind
Firm faith, with dauntless courage join'd,
And piety: how well the sense
Of His o'erruling providence,
In his celestial teaching bold,
And strengthen'd by his strength, can hold
'Gainst hopelessness successful strife,
And triumph o'er the ills of life!
February flowers not numerous. Procumbent Speedwell. Barren Strawberry. Dandelion. Dead Nettles. Butcher's Broom. Vernal Pilewort. Fetid and Green Hellebore. Coltsfoot. Daffodils. Violets. Sweetness of the white Violet. Wild flowers injured by cultivation
But should your taste be more inclin'd
From flow'rs of more conspicuous kind
To seek for pastime; tho' but scant
As yet be strewn the wilding plant,
Your favour'd search may some explore
To add to January's store.
The pastur'd mead or stubble field,
Or garden lightly scann'd, may yield
The first of all its numerous kind,
Procumbent Speedwell. See, inclin'd
On arching stalk, of bright blue die,
And with a round and pearl-like eye
Distinct, it shows its pendent head!
Pluck, but be cautious lest you shed
The petals of the tender flower;
And shorten thus the little hour
At most allotted it to grace
With transient bloom its native place!
From flow'rs of more conspicuous kind
To seek for pastime; tho' but scant
As yet be strewn the wilding plant,
Your favour'd search may some explore
To add to January's store.
The pastur'd mead or stubble field,
Or garden lightly scann'd, may yield
The first of all its numerous kind,
Procumbent Speedwell. See, inclin'd
74
And with a round and pearl-like eye
Distinct, it shows its pendent head!
Pluck, but be cautious lest you shed
The petals of the tender flower;
And shorten thus the little hour
At most allotted it to grace
With transient bloom its native place!
On pastures dry or hedge-bank see,
Where creeps the barren strawberry;
Alternating its petals white
With radiate points of verdure bright,
Which, meeting in a central neck
Of hairy fringe, its chalice deck.
And there the plant, which clothes the ground
With strap-like flowers, a yellow round
Of gold, whose leaves indented show
Of points acute a jagged row,
Thence call'd, if right I guess the truth,
By Gallick name “the Lion's tooth,”
With milk obnoxious to the taste.
And there, with whirls incircling graced,
Of white and purple-tinted red,
The harmless Nettle's helmed head,
Less apt with fragrance to delight
The smell, than please the curious sight.
Where creeps the barren strawberry;
Alternating its petals white
With radiate points of verdure bright,
Which, meeting in a central neck
Of hairy fringe, its chalice deck.
And there the plant, which clothes the ground
With strap-like flowers, a yellow round
Of gold, whose leaves indented show
Of points acute a jagged row,
Thence call'd, if right I guess the truth,
By Gallick name “the Lion's tooth,”
With milk obnoxious to the taste.
And there, with whirls incircling graced,
Of white and purple-tinted red,
The harmless Nettle's helmed head,
Less apt with fragrance to delight
The smell, than please the curious sight.
Mid barren heath the Butcher's Broom
On thorn-tipt leaves its lonely bloom
Infixes, where the central eye,
Swoln to a purple nectary,
Bright 'mid the greenish petals shows,
And dark green leaf, whereon it grows.
On thorn-tipt leaves its lonely bloom
Infixes, where the central eye,
Swoln to a purple nectary,
Bright 'mid the greenish petals shows,
And dark green leaf, whereon it grows.
75
See, as along the grove you pass,
Thicket, or hedge, or pastur'd grass,
The vernal Pilewort's globe unfold
Its star-like disk of burnish'd gold:
Starlike in seeming form, from far
It shines too like a glistening star.
Thicket, or hedge, or pastur'd grass,
The vernal Pilewort's globe unfold
Its star-like disk of burnish'd gold:
Starlike in seeming form, from far
It shines too like a glistening star.
Within the moist and shady glade
What plant, in suit of green array'd,
All heedless of the wintry cold,
Inhabits? Foremost to unfold,
Tho' half conceal'd, its bloom globose,
Whose petals green, o'erlapp'd and close,
Present each arch'd converging lip
Embroider'd with a purple tip;
And green its floral leaves expand,
With fingers like a mermaid's hand?
Full strange, and worthy to explore,
That plant, the fetid Hellebore,
Where'er in Britain's southern shades,
Tho' rare, it decks the woodland glades,
But most the rounded hills of chalk:
Or where the garden's shady walk,
By culture rear'd, the hardy flower
Skirts thro' the winter's gloomy hour,
Fair to the eye: but ah! beware,
Nor with rash tongue or finger dare
Approach it, lest you late repent
The acrid taste, or fetid scent.
What plant, in suit of green array'd,
All heedless of the wintry cold,
Inhabits? Foremost to unfold,
Tho' half conceal'd, its bloom globose,
Whose petals green, o'erlapp'd and close,
Present each arch'd converging lip
Embroider'd with a purple tip;
And green its floral leaves expand,
With fingers like a mermaid's hand?
Full strange, and worthy to explore,
That plant, the fetid Hellebore,
Where'er in Britain's southern shades,
Tho' rare, it decks the woodland glades,
But most the rounded hills of chalk:
Or where the garden's shady walk,
By culture rear'd, the hardy flower
Skirts thro' the winter's gloomy hour,
Fair to the eye: but ah! beware,
Nor with rash tongue or finger dare
Approach it, lest you late repent
The acrid taste, or fetid scent.
In nature, and in aspect fair,
Congenial, still perhaps more rare,
His brother too the wintry scene,
By title as in vesture green,
Adorns. But wide expanded lie
Its flowers, nor share a purple die:
And promptly as its leaves outspread,
Bursts from the birth its blooming head.
Congenial, still perhaps more rare,
His brother too the wintry scene,
By title as in vesture green,
76
Its flowers, nor share a purple die:
And promptly as its leaves outspread,
Bursts from the birth its blooming head.
On scaly stem, with cottony down
O'erlaid, its lemon-colour'd crown,
Which droop'd unclos'd, but now erect,
The Coltsfoot bright develops; deck'd,
Ere yet the impurpled stalk displays
Its dark green leaves, with countless rays,
Round countless tubes, alike in die,
Expanded: but howe'er the eye
Its tints may prize, no fragrant smells
It nourishes in nectar'd cells,
Link'd with its salutary power;
To rival that, its kindred flower,
Which, wont to scent its native gales
In fair Italia's Alpine vales,
Now from its lilac-colour'd bloom
Breathes o'er our walks a rich perfume.
O'erlaid, its lemon-colour'd crown,
Which droop'd unclos'd, but now erect,
The Coltsfoot bright develops; deck'd,
Ere yet the impurpled stalk displays
Its dark green leaves, with countless rays,
Round countless tubes, alike in die,
Expanded: but howe'er the eye
Its tints may prize, no fragrant smells
It nourishes in nectar'd cells,
Link'd with its salutary power;
To rival that, its kindred flower,
Which, wont to scent its native gales
In fair Italia's Alpine vales,
Now from its lilac-colour'd bloom
Breathes o'er our walks a rich perfume.
And there, with yellow nectary crown'd,
A hollow tube erect and round,
And yellow petals spread beneath,
Unfolded from their dark green sheath,
The Daffodills their bloom display,
And flaunt, the gayest of the gay.
And there, the sweetest of the sweet,
Low lurks the modest Violet,
Or white or blue: but of delight
Most prodigal the virgin white,
Within whose dainty bosom dwells
The quintessence of fragrant smells.
But tho', as in thy moral page
We read, thou Verulamian sage ,
Its breath more sweetly scents the air,
When doubled by the gardener's care;
By me more priz'd is nature's child
Amid its native woodlands wild.
And more I love the simplest flower,
In field, or hill, or woodland bower,
By “great creating Nature made;
Than when by man's presumptuous aid
With artificial beauties drest,
A handsome monster at the best.
Whate'er of gain may thence accrue,
If gain there be, in scent or hue;
Of adventitious beauty aught,
By art's ingenious talent wrought;
'Tis more than balanc'd by the cost
Of simple native beauty lost,
Some precious part, some feature fine,
The ruin of the just design
Exemplified in each, in all,
By excellence symmetrical,
By Nature's wise contrivance plann'd,
And fashion'd by her matchless hand.
As if the human legs were torn
Away, the body to adorn
With huge Briareus' hundred arms:
Or Argus' hundred eyes their charms
Conferr'd to lend a monstrous grace
To deck a lipless, noseless face.
A hollow tube erect and round,
And yellow petals spread beneath,
Unfolded from their dark green sheath,
The Daffodills their bloom display,
And flaunt, the gayest of the gay.
And there, the sweetest of the sweet,
Low lurks the modest Violet,
Or white or blue: but of delight
Most prodigal the virgin white,
Within whose dainty bosom dwells
The quintessence of fragrant smells.
77
We read, thou Verulamian sage ,
Its breath more sweetly scents the air,
When doubled by the gardener's care;
By me more priz'd is nature's child
Amid its native woodlands wild.
And more I love the simplest flower,
In field, or hill, or woodland bower,
By “great creating Nature made;
Than when by man's presumptuous aid
With artificial beauties drest,
A handsome monster at the best.
Whate'er of gain may thence accrue,
If gain there be, in scent or hue;
Of adventitious beauty aught,
By art's ingenious talent wrought;
'Tis more than balanc'd by the cost
Of simple native beauty lost,
Some precious part, some feature fine,
The ruin of the just design
Exemplified in each, in all,
By excellence symmetrical,
By Nature's wise contrivance plann'd,
And fashion'd by her matchless hand.
As if the human legs were torn
Away, the body to adorn
With huge Briareus' hundred arms:
Or Argus' hundred eyes their charms
Conferr'd to lend a monstrous grace
To deck a lipless, noseless face.
78
Trees most early with symptoms of vegetation. Willows. Weeping Willow. Larch. Fertile blossom of the Hazel, worthy of notice. Blossoms of the Yew.
But cautious yet their germs protrude
The brethren of the copse and wood,
For flow'r or leaf: conspicuous most
The wat'ry Willow's spray, embost
With oval knobs of silky down;
Which soon, in form of papal crown,
Shall decorate the russet stem
With many a golden diadem.
And he, that weeps the streamlet nigh,
With leaves of green and yellow die
Begins to hang the o'erbowering arch.
Nor less the straight and tapering Larch
Puts forth, but dares not yet unclose,
His cluster'd tassels' bright green rows.
The brethren of the copse and wood,
For flow'r or leaf: conspicuous most
The wat'ry Willow's spray, embost
With oval knobs of silky down;
Which soon, in form of papal crown,
Shall decorate the russet stem
With many a golden diadem.
And he, that weeps the streamlet nigh,
With leaves of green and yellow die
Begins to hang the o'erbowering arch.
Nor less the straight and tapering Larch
Puts forth, but dares not yet unclose,
His cluster'd tassels' bright green rows.
The Hazel too, which lately hung
His boughs with barren blossoms, strung
In wavy drops, on pendent rows,
Begins his fertile buds disclose,
Unfolding from each scaly bed
Its spreading tuft of crimson red.
Regard it well! Few things invite
More pleasingly the curious sight,
Than those small tufts of crimson: few
More strange, than that, in season due,
Thence, wrapt in bearded busk, should shoot
The nut's hard shell and kernel'd fruit.
His boughs with barren blossoms, strung
In wavy drops, on pendent rows,
Begins his fertile buds disclose,
Unfolding from each scaly bed
Its spreading tuft of crimson red.
Regard it well! Few things invite
More pleasingly the curious sight,
Than those small tufts of crimson: few
More strange, than that, in season due,
Thence, wrapt in bearded busk, should shoot
The nut's hard shell and kernel'd fruit.
Nor curious less the mountain Yew;
Which, 'mid its leaves of solemn hue,
Its sulphur-colour'd anthers now,
In clusters on the dark green bough,
Here, void of cup or blossom fair,
Exhibits; and at distance there
Its verdant chalices minute,
The embryos of its scarlet fruit.
Which, 'mid its leaves of solemn hue,
Its sulphur-colour'd anthers now,
In clusters on the dark green bough,
Here, void of cup or blossom fair,
Exhibits; and at distance there
79
The embryos of its scarlet fruit.
Wonderful laws of vegetable nature; exemplified in numerous particulars. Questions to be solved by reference to the will of the Creator
How wonderful the laws assign'd
To all the vegetable kind!
By what mysterious pow'r imprest,
Does every plant, that opes its breast
To gratulate the year's sweet prime,
And glad with fruit the autumnal time,
To bloom and ripe its season know,
And by fix'd laws of being grow?
Why, now that many a lingering flower
Awaits the later vernal hour,
Summer's or autumn's warmer glow;
Do these their charms maturer show
To spring's first wooing, nor forbear
The blasts and chilling frosts to dare?
While still the unbroken bands of sleep
The forest and the coppice keep
In torpid slumber; why do these,
Awak'd before their brother trees,
Start forward on their annual race?
Whence is it, who the cause can trace,
Why from each known appropriate root,
Or scatter'd seed, is seen to shoot
The same unerring plant; the same
In stem, and stalk, and leaf, and frame
Of parts combin'd, and beauteous hue?
Why is the lowly Speedwell blue?
The Strawberry white? the Nettle spread
With yellowish white, or purplish red?
What gives the Pilewort's
golden sheen?
The Hellebores their blossoms green,
One purple tipp'd, the other still
Verdant throughout? the Daffodil,
Why is it robed in yellow bright?
The Violet, now in modest white,
Now in bright purple? Why do some
Breathe on the air a rich perfume,
Of joy and sweetness redolent;
While others yield a vapid scent,
Perchance distasteful? Why of size,
And shape, and native properties,
Diversified? and why they dwell
Some here, some there? while these rebel
'Gainst change of site, why those display
A kind compliance? who can say,
By what nice chymistry they breed
The germ, the seed-chest, and the seed?
Why that small crimson tuft should shoot,
And form the Hazel's kernel'd fruit?
And that green cup should give to view
The scarlet berry of the Yew?
Whence is it neither can produce,
Or tuft or cup, its destin'd use,
Unless on each impregnate head
Their dust those bursting anthers shed?
Whence is it, wafted on the wind,
The dust, according to its kind,
Finds its appropriate place, decreed
To lodge and fructify the seed;
And with the appointed offspring swells
The pulpy cups or harden'd shells?
To all the vegetable kind!
By what mysterious pow'r imprest,
Does every plant, that opes its breast
To gratulate the year's sweet prime,
And glad with fruit the autumnal time,
To bloom and ripe its season know,
And by fix'd laws of being grow?
Why, now that many a lingering flower
Awaits the later vernal hour,
Summer's or autumn's warmer glow;
Do these their charms maturer show
To spring's first wooing, nor forbear
The blasts and chilling frosts to dare?
While still the unbroken bands of sleep
The forest and the coppice keep
In torpid slumber; why do these,
Awak'd before their brother trees,
Start forward on their annual race?
Whence is it, who the cause can trace,
Why from each known appropriate root,
Or scatter'd seed, is seen to shoot
The same unerring plant; the same
In stem, and stalk, and leaf, and frame
Of parts combin'd, and beauteous hue?
Why is the lowly Speedwell blue?
The Strawberry white? the Nettle spread
With yellowish white, or purplish red?
80
The Hellebores their blossoms green,
One purple tipp'd, the other still
Verdant throughout? the Daffodil,
Why is it robed in yellow bright?
The Violet, now in modest white,
Now in bright purple? Why do some
Breathe on the air a rich perfume,
Of joy and sweetness redolent;
While others yield a vapid scent,
Perchance distasteful? Why of size,
And shape, and native properties,
Diversified? and why they dwell
Some here, some there? while these rebel
'Gainst change of site, why those display
A kind compliance? who can say,
By what nice chymistry they breed
The germ, the seed-chest, and the seed?
Why that small crimson tuft should shoot,
And form the Hazel's kernel'd fruit?
And that green cup should give to view
The scarlet berry of the Yew?
Whence is it neither can produce,
Or tuft or cup, its destin'd use,
Unless on each impregnate head
Their dust those bursting anthers shed?
Whence is it, wafted on the wind,
The dust, according to its kind,
Finds its appropriate place, decreed
To lodge and fructify the seed;
And with the appointed offspring swells
The pulpy cups or harden'd shells?
81
Howe'er the process we pursue,
And step by step with anxious view
Explore of each the guiding laws,
The scope, and end, and moving cause:
Tho' sage experience trace the course
Oft times of secondary force;
Yet oft for each gradation fine,
And ever for the first design,
Of ignorance convict, we fall
Back on the primal Cause of all:
And rest on His creative will,
Who all his works with sovereign skill
Idea'd in his perfect mind;
And each, “according to its kind,”
Ordain'd amid the fertile field
To spring, to bloom, its “fruit to yield,”
And “in itself its seed” to bear;
And, as He order'd, “so they were .”
And step by step with anxious view
Explore of each the guiding laws,
The scope, and end, and moving cause:
Tho' sage experience trace the course
Oft times of secondary force;
Yet oft for each gradation fine,
And ever for the first design,
Of ignorance convict, we fall
Back on the primal Cause of all:
And rest on His creative will,
Who all his works with sovereign skill
Idea'd in his perfect mind;
And each, “according to its kind,”
Ordain'd amid the fertile field
To spring, to bloom, its “fruit to yield,”
And “in itself its seed” to bear;
And, as He order'd, “so they were .”
85
MARCH.
Origin of the name: description of the month's character. Fickleness of our climate. Uncertain symptoms of the seasons. Truth of many old sayings
Call'd from the warrior god, whom he,
Proud of his fancied ancestry
That gave to rising Rome his name,
Was fain his vaunted sire to claim;
See call'd from warlike Mars appear,
Third in the annual round's career,
The Martial month. His sire to grace,
The founder of his realm and race,
The month, which then was mark'd the prime
And leader of the annual time,
The royal foundling gave to own
His father's name. But had he known,
In regions of the blustering north
What storms the month full often forth
Attendant on its passage draws;
He might have found another cause,
And from its elemental jars
Call'd the rough time the month of Mars.
Proud of his fancied ancestry
That gave to rising Rome his name,
Was fain his vaunted sire to claim;
See call'd from warlike Mars appear,
Third in the annual round's career,
The Martial month. His sire to grace,
The founder of his realm and race,
The month, which then was mark'd the prime
And leader of the annual time,
The royal foundling gave to own
His father's name. But had he known,
In regions of the blustering north
What storms the month full often forth
Attendant on its passage draws;
He might have found another cause,
And from its elemental jars
Call'd the rough time the month of Mars.
Such jars our heedful fathers knew:
And thence the homely proverb grew,
Which mark'd its entrance fierce and wild
In contrast with its exit mild,
And told how March to greet them came
“A lion,” but retir'd “a lamb.”
And thence the homely proverb grew,
Which mark'd its entrance fierce and wild
In contrast with its exit mild,
And told how March to greet them came
“A lion,” but retir'd “a lamb.”
'Tis hard in this our fickle clime
The symptoms of the passing time
To fix. As on the season goes,
To-day no sure resemblance shows
To that which yesterday we knew,
Or haply may to-morrow view.
But frowns and smiles in ceaseless ring,
With smiles and frowns alternating,
Each give to each successive place,
As on a wayward beauty's face.
Nor that alone: but as the change
Continual in time's daily range
Defies the calculating thought;
So with uncertain symptoms fraught
Successively the course appears
Of months, of seasons, and of years.
And who, from what he sees to-day,
Shall dare with glance prophetick say,
When twelve quick waning moons have roll'd
Their stated course, if hot or cold,
If calm or storm, if moist or dry,
Shall lord it in our changeful sky?
Unless perchance he fondly dream,
To him belongs the pow'r supreme,
Claim'd by the astronomick sage
In moral Johnson's graphick page
Depicted, by his will controll'd
The weather's wavering course to hold,
The bursting show'rs abroad to throw,
And teach the sunshine where to glow.
The symptoms of the passing time
86
To-day no sure resemblance shows
To that which yesterday we knew,
Or haply may to-morrow view.
But frowns and smiles in ceaseless ring,
With smiles and frowns alternating,
Each give to each successive place,
As on a wayward beauty's face.
Nor that alone: but as the change
Continual in time's daily range
Defies the calculating thought;
So with uncertain symptoms fraught
Successively the course appears
Of months, of seasons, and of years.
And who, from what he sees to-day,
Shall dare with glance prophetick say,
When twelve quick waning moons have roll'd
Their stated course, if hot or cold,
If calm or storm, if moist or dry,
Shall lord it in our changeful sky?
Unless perchance he fondly dream,
To him belongs the pow'r supreme,
Claim'd by the astronomick sage
In moral Johnson's graphick page
Depicted, by his will controll'd
The weather's wavering course to hold,
The bursting show'rs abroad to throw,
And teach the sunshine where to glow.
But though our ever-varying sky
Will oft the weather-wise defy
Exact the future change to know;
Oft too its general state will show,
That not impertinent or vain
Is many an old prophetick strain
Of sage experience: and 'tis true,
That March will oft at first indue
The lion's untam'd form, and pour
Abroad the blustering tempest's roar,
Which join'd with “April's” genial “showers,”
May fill “May's” lap with blooming “flowers.”
Will oft the weather-wise defy
87
Oft too its general state will show,
That not impertinent or vain
Is many an old prophetick strain
Of sage experience: and 'tis true,
That March will oft at first indue
The lion's untam'd form, and pour
Abroad the blustering tempest's roar,
Which join'd with “April's” genial “showers,”
May fill “May's” lap with blooming “flowers.”
Providential control of the elements. Adjustment of the weather. The Creator, the Lord of nature. Changes in the atmosphere, the result of his will
Howe'er it be, and wild and strange
As seems the fickle season's change,
As if indeed some feeble man
Sway'd universal nature's plan
Capricious; yet in truth 'tis full
Of wonder, to observe the rule
Of goodness, providence, and power,
Which o'er the uncertain-seeming hour
With ever watchful care presides;
The extravagance of nature guides
Unerring to the destin'd goal;
And of discordant parts a whole
Combines for beauty and for food,
And models for creation's good.
As seems the fickle season's change,
As if indeed some feeble man
Sway'd universal nature's plan
Capricious; yet in truth 'tis full
Of wonder, to observe the rule
Of goodness, providence, and power,
Which o'er the uncertain-seeming hour
With ever watchful care presides;
The extravagance of nature guides
Unerring to the destin'd goal;
And of discordant parts a whole
Combines for beauty and for food,
And models for creation's good.
If boisterous winds or driving sleet,
If moist or dry, if cold or heat,
As we with partial fondness deem
Short-sighted, may at seasons seem
Mix'd in undue uncertain rates,
Till this or that predominates;
How does the adjusting hand of heaven
Make with nice touch the balance even,
That none injuriously prevail,
Be conquer'd none! How rarely fail,
Once buried in the furrow'd row,
The seeds with sprouting blade to grow,
With verdant ear the tilth adorn,
And ripening wave the golden corn!
If moist or dry, if cold or heat,
As we with partial fondness deem
Short-sighted, may at seasons seem
Mix'd in undue uncertain rates,
Till this or that predominates;
88
Make with nice touch the balance even,
That none injuriously prevail,
Be conquer'd none! How rarely fail,
Once buried in the furrow'd row,
The seeds with sprouting blade to grow,
With verdant ear the tilth adorn,
And ripening wave the golden corn!
But what if seasons more unkind,
Of drenching flood or parching wind,
Now and again the tender seed
Disable; and the springtide breed
Less copiously the ear-form'd grain
To gladden summer's harvest reign:
What is it but a proof, that He,
Who with a word bade nature be,
Still shapes and models at his will
Her ways, and bids creation still
Submissive to his sceptre bow,
And act what he commands and how?
Of nature, and of nature's laws,
Speak as we please, as of the cause
Primordial of the vaulted scene
And all that tenant it; a queen
Intelligent, who sways alone
Creation's monarchy and throne;
Nature is but a name, to show
The course of things above, below,
Which God's high providence fulfils;
And nature's works are what he wills.
Of drenching flood or parching wind,
Now and again the tender seed
Disable; and the springtide breed
Less copiously the ear-form'd grain
To gladden summer's harvest reign:
What is it but a proof, that He,
Who with a word bade nature be,
Still shapes and models at his will
Her ways, and bids creation still
Submissive to his sceptre bow,
And act what he commands and how?
Of nature, and of nature's laws,
Speak as we please, as of the cause
Primordial of the vaulted scene
And all that tenant it; a queen
Intelligent, who sways alone
Creation's monarchy and throne;
Nature is but a name, to show
The course of things above, below,
Which God's high providence fulfils;
And nature's works are what he wills.
He wills: the indurated ground,
Lo! the congealing frost hath bound.
He wills: the earth is hid below
A mantle of manuring snow.
He wills: the windows of the sky
Again are open'd, and from high
On parent earth's prolifick bed
The clouds relaxing moisture shed.
He wills: and from his viewless store
The winds with sway tumultuous pour,
And ventilate the crumbling clod:
Again he wills: the expectant sod
Imbibes thro' every porous vein
The influence of the falling rain,
Which fatness thro' the earth distills;
And rising thence, for so he wills,
By wing of vernal breezes fann'd,
And foster'd by the sunbeams bland,
Gives her to bud, and shoot, and spread,
“The sower's seed, the eater's bread .”
Lo! the congealing frost hath bound.
89
A mantle of manuring snow.
He wills: the windows of the sky
Again are open'd, and from high
On parent earth's prolifick bed
The clouds relaxing moisture shed.
He wills: and from his viewless store
The winds with sway tumultuous pour,
And ventilate the crumbling clod:
Again he wills: the expectant sod
Imbibes thro' every porous vein
The influence of the falling rain,
Which fatness thro' the earth distills;
And rising thence, for so he wills,
By wing of vernal breezes fann'd,
And foster'd by the sunbeams bland,
Gives her to bud, and shoot, and spread,
“The sower's seed, the eater's bread .”
Season for man's labour. Plowing. Sowing. Harrowing. Effect dependent on the bounty of Providence
Forerunners by his will decreed
To harbinger the scatter'd seed,
The frost, the snow, the rain, the wind
Have done his bidding, and inclin'd
The earth for fruitfulness: and now
“Man goeth forth to toil .” The plough
Smooth through the upturn'd fallow glides;
And as the keel-like share divides
The surface, 'mid the furrow dun
Shows its bright polish to the sun.
To harbinger the scatter'd seed,
The frost, the snow, the rain, the wind
Have done his bidding, and inclin'd
The earth for fruitfulness: and now
“Man goeth forth to toil .” The plough
Smooth through the upturn'd fallow glides;
And as the keel-like share divides
The surface, 'mid the furrow dun
Shows its bright polish to the sun.
90
The ploughman o'er the yielding land,
With eye intent, and steady hand,
Defines the intended path; and cheers
And guides his steeds, or patient steers,
With voice across the undented plain,
And shaking of the slacken'd rein.
With eye intent, and steady hand,
Defines the intended path; and cheers
And guides his steeds, or patient steers,
With voice across the undented plain,
And shaking of the slacken'd rein.
The seed-lap o'er his shoulder slung,
Or sheet in folds capacious hung,
Behind the dextrous sower goes,
With measur'd step; and round him throws
With well-aim'd cast expert, that keeps
Accordance with his measur'd steps,
The harvest's promis'd wealth. At length
Harsh-grating, its unwieldy strength
The three-fold harrow adds, to close
With piercing tines the ridgy rows,
And smooth, where now confided rest
Man's cherish'd hopes, earth's fertile breast.
Or sheet in folds capacious hung,
Behind the dextrous sower goes,
With measur'd step; and round him throws
With well-aim'd cast expert, that keeps
Accordance with his measur'd steps,
The harvest's promis'd wealth. At length
Harsh-grating, its unwieldy strength
The three-fold harrow adds, to close
With piercing tines the ridgy rows,
And smooth, where now confided rest
Man's cherish'd hopes, earth's fertile breast.
Man's work is done. All bounteous Power!
'Tis now for thee the genial hour
To regulate; for thee to rear
The germ, the blade, the pregnant ear,
Last on the ear the full-grown grain,
Each in its kind: erect to train
The bristling barley, give the oat
Light on the buoyant air to float,
Abroad the winding pea to trail,
And bid the blossom'd bean exhale
Delightful fragrance! By thy care
The verdant fields already wear
Their mantle of the sprouting wheat,
Unhurt by winter. Oh, complete
The boon! To meet perfection bring
The promise of the opening spring!
That hill and joyous vale may smile
With fruitfulness, and man the while
Earth's kindly fruits receiving, own
The welcome gift is thine alone!
'Tis now for thee the genial hour
To regulate; for thee to rear
The germ, the blade, the pregnant ear,
Last on the ear the full-grown grain,
Each in its kind: erect to train
The bristling barley, give the oat
Light on the buoyant air to float,
Abroad the winding pea to trail,
And bid the blossom'd bean exhale
Delightful fragrance! By thy care
The verdant fields already wear
Their mantle of the sprouting wheat,
Unhurt by winter. Oh, complete
91
The promise of the opening spring!
That hill and joyous vale may smile
With fruitfulness, and man the while
Earth's kindly fruits receiving, own
The welcome gift is thine alone!
Happiness of tracing secondary causes. Greater happiness of seeing the First Cause. Faith the guide of philosophy. True wisdom. Newton
Happy, of philosophick mind
Is he, who can by searching find,
What secondary causes lurk
Unseen by common eyes; and work
Together, from the air and earth,
To propagate each wondrous birth
That parent nature breeds, and bring
To perfectness the hopes of spring!
More happy he, who, as abroad
He looks, throughout the present God
Perceives in open view reveal'd:
And whether from his mind conceal'd
Those secondary causes lie,
Or open to his mental eye;
Still to their primal cause returns,
Alone uncaus'd, and thus discerns
Him, of the universal whole
The source and end, the life and soul!
Is he, who can by searching find,
What secondary causes lurk
Unseen by common eyes; and work
Together, from the air and earth,
To propagate each wondrous birth
That parent nature breeds, and bring
To perfectness the hopes of spring!
More happy he, who, as abroad
He looks, throughout the present God
Perceives in open view reveal'd:
And whether from his mind conceal'd
Those secondary causes lie,
Or open to his mental eye;
Still to their primal cause returns,
Alone uncaus'd, and thus discerns
Him, of the universal whole
The source and end, the life and soul!
Intent, whate'er before her lies
To scan with over-curious eyes,
The philosophick mind may err,
From faith abstracted: but with her
To guide him, he who little kens
Of active sublunary means,
Yet in his works prepar'd to see
God with a child's simplicity;
His is the wisdom pure and true,
Surpassing all that Newton knew,
Had not great Newton, with a mind
Of matchless scope capacious, joined
The faith submiss, the manners mild
And humble, of a simple child;
Confess'd reveal'd in nature's laws
The one, the universal Cause,
The sovereign God: and not content
To see him in the firmanent,
And earth's material fabrick, sought
Elsewhere his steps; the volume, fraught
With lore still more sublime, explor'd;
And found him in his written word!
To scan with over-curious eyes,
The philosophick mind may err,
From faith abstracted: but with her
To guide him, he who little kens
Of active sublunary means,
92
God with a child's simplicity;
His is the wisdom pure and true,
Surpassing all that Newton knew,
Had not great Newton, with a mind
Of matchless scope capacious, joined
The faith submiss, the manners mild
And humble, of a simple child;
Confess'd reveal'd in nature's laws
The one, the universal Cause,
The sovereign God: and not content
To see him in the firmanent,
And earth's material fabrick, sought
Elsewhere his steps; the volume, fraught
With lore still more sublime, explor'd;
And found him in his written word!
Progress of vegetation. Delight of observing it. Sources of such delight. Appearance of the blade. Flush of green on the hedges, &c. Bursting of the leaf of forest trees. Sycamore. Horse Chestnut. Ground matted with fresh leaves. Gradual opening of the blossoms.
Now day by day, and hour by hour,
Is felt and own'd the quickening power.
Is felt and own'd the quickening power.
As when the rising flood's at hand,
To one who loiters on the strand
'Tis pleasant by the ocean's side
To muse, and mark the incoming tide,
And count the billows of the deep
As onward step by step they creep,
Till one broad convex shield o'erlay
With silver all the brimming bay:
Ev'n so 'tis sweet, this vernal time,
To mark the still advancing prime,
How in her calm and creeping course
Boon nature's vegetative force
Steals onward with resistless flow;
As promising erelong to throw
A broad and bloom-embroider'd robe
Of verdure o'er the smiling globe.
To one who loiters on the strand
'Tis pleasant by the ocean's side
To muse, and mark the incoming tide,
And count the billows of the deep
As onward step by step they creep,
Till one broad convex shield o'erlay
With silver all the brimming bay:
Ev'n so 'tis sweet, this vernal time,
To mark the still advancing prime,
How in her calm and creeping course
Boon nature's vegetative force
93
As promising erelong to throw
A broad and bloom-embroider'd robe
Of verdure o'er the smiling globe.
On earth no lovelier sight is seen
Than that bloom-broider'd robe of green,
Which hangs its fair and fresh array
On the young form of bonny May.
Than that bloom-broider'd robe of green,
Which hangs its fair and fresh array
On the young form of bonny May.
And yet I know not but a sense
More keen the previous steps dispense,
As on the work progressive goes,
Nor yet its full perfection shows.
More keen the previous steps dispense,
As on the work progressive goes,
Nor yet its full perfection shows.
Then each fresh symptom, one by one
Appearing, as a trophy won
Is treasur'd, as a special gain
From winter's stern and gloomy reign.
Appearing, as a trophy won
Is treasur'd, as a special gain
From winter's stern and gloomy reign.
Each charm that takes the ear or view,
Not beauteous only, but as new,
Makes to the admiring mind appeal;
And much as beauty's pow'r we feel,
Yet novelty itself alone
Has charms peculiarly its own.
Not beauteous only, but as new,
Makes to the admiring mind appeal;
And much as beauty's pow'r we feel,
Yet novelty itself alone
Has charms peculiarly its own.
Then, as successive objects rise,
With fresh enjoyment and surprise
Each draws the raptur'd mind to dwell
On each successive miracle;
And, while it swells the previous store,
Gives pledge and earnest yet of more,
Enlarging thus the present scope
Of pleasure with the future's hope:
And hope assur'd the mind employs
As vividly as actual joys.
With fresh enjoyment and surprise
Each draws the raptur'd mind to dwell
On each successive miracle;
And, while it swells the previous store,
Gives pledge and earnest yet of more,
Enlarging thus the present scope
Of pleasure with the future's hope:
And hope assur'd the mind employs
As vividly as actual joys.
94
But passing this; for objects fair
May less behove us to compare
In thought with others, than from each
The joys within our present reach
To gather, nor meanwhile forget
The Source of goodness, and the debt
We owe Him; yes, 'tis pleasant now
To watch the first fruits of the plough;
And from the seed so lately sown,
And buried in the furrows brown,
See, while we slept, the spear-like blade
The field with tender verdure shade.
May less behove us to compare
In thought with others, than from each
The joys within our present reach
To gather, nor meanwhile forget
The Source of goodness, and the debt
We owe Him; yes, 'tis pleasant now
To watch the first fruits of the plough;
And from the seed so lately sown,
And buried in the furrows brown,
See, while we slept, the spear-like blade
The field with tender verdure shade.
'Tis pleasant on each hardy tree,
Currant, or prickly gooseberry,
Along the hawthorn's level line,
Or bush of fragrant eglantine,
Bramble, or pithy elder pale,
Or larch, or woodbine's twisted trail,
Or willow lithe, a flush of green
To note with light transparent skreen
At intervals the branches hide
Of vegetable gauze; till wide
It spreads, and thickens to the eye,
A close-wove veil of deeper die.
Currant, or prickly gooseberry,
Along the hawthorn's level line,
Or bush of fragrant eglantine,
Bramble, or pithy elder pale,
Or larch, or woodbine's twisted trail,
Or willow lithe, a flush of green
To note with light transparent skreen
At intervals the branches hide
Of vegetable gauze; till wide
It spreads, and thickens to the eye,
A close-wove veil of deeper die.
'Tis pleasant to contemplate how
Grows on the yet unmantled bough
The swelling leaf profuse; if vain
Of likeness to the beauteous plane,
The forward Sycamore display
His foliage; or the shining spray
Of Chestnut to the sun protrude
His lengthen'd and expanded bud
Adhesive:—to remark it first
Its brown exterior armour burst
Of many a closely serried scale,
Close as the steel-clad warrior's mail,
And slowly thro' each loosen'd joint
Appear with green and spiral point
Emerging; then its braids unfold
Plait after plait, so nicely roll'd,
That once unwrapt in vain would art
Fold it anew: till every part,
Stalk, fibre, frame and framework, meet
In union; and the leaf complete
Light in the passing breezes plays,
And twinkles in the sunny rays.
Grows on the yet unmantled bough
The swelling leaf profuse; if vain
Of likeness to the beauteous plane,
The forward Sycamore display
His foliage; or the shining spray
Of Chestnut to the sun protrude
His lengthen'd and expanded bud
95
Its brown exterior armour burst
Of many a closely serried scale,
Close as the steel-clad warrior's mail,
And slowly thro' each loosen'd joint
Appear with green and spiral point
Emerging; then its braids unfold
Plait after plait, so nicely roll'd,
That once unwrapt in vain would art
Fold it anew: till every part,
Stalk, fibre, frame and framework, meet
In union; and the leaf complete
Light in the passing breezes plays,
And twinkles in the sunny rays.
'Tis pleasant on the ground to pore,
And with discerning gaze explore
The leaves that mat the coppice dank,
The pathway side, or hedgerow bank,
Chequering the now prolifick mould;
With fine mosaick, manifold
In figure, size, and tint, inlaid,
A carpet green by nature made,
Ere yet of damask work she pours
From her rich loom the blooming flowers.
And with discerning gaze explore
The leaves that mat the coppice dank,
The pathway side, or hedgerow bank,
Chequering the now prolifick mould;
With fine mosaick, manifold
In figure, size, and tint, inlaid,
A carpet green by nature made,
Ere yet of damask work she pours
From her rich loom the blooming flowers.
And now, as nature from her loom
Pours gradual forth each opening bloom,
'Tis pleasant all the course to see
Of that delightful mystery:
To see the cloven cup display
From its spread valves in meet array
The tender blossom's apt design,
And texture delicately fine,
Of virgin whiteness, or with print
Imprest of many a rainbow tint,
In patterns numberless dispos'd;
And then those petals fair unclos'd
To see, with threadlike stamens crown'd,
And farinaceous anthers, round
The central style; and how they throw
Thence to the swelling chest below
The fertilising dust, and feed
By pow'r unseen the future seed.
Pours gradual forth each opening bloom,
'Tis pleasant all the course to see
Of that delightful mystery:
To see the cloven cup display
From its spread valves in meet array
The tender blossom's apt design,
And texture delicately fine,
96
Imprest of many a rainbow tint,
In patterns numberless dispos'd;
And then those petals fair unclos'd
To see, with threadlike stamens crown'd,
And farinaceous anthers, round
The central style; and how they throw
Thence to the swelling chest below
The fertilising dust, and feed
By pow'r unseen the future seed.
Delight of recurring to past scenes. The Author's early botanical walks. Buriton. Its various walks and wild flowers. Wood Sorrel. Windflower and Harebell. Elm-blossoms. Sloe. Orchis and Ophrys tribes. Moschatel. Stichwort. Daisy. Violet. Crowfoot. Ladies' Smock. Primroses. Marsh Marigold. Ivy-leaved Speedwell. The Author's pleasure in the scenery. Recollection revived by the return of Spring
Such things are pleasant in their course,
Innocuous, blameless; and the source
Of after pleasure, when the mind,
To scenes and days left far behind
Recurring, finds the track remain
Of joys, and lives its life again.
Innocuous, blameless; and the source
Of after pleasure, when the mind,
To scenes and days left far behind
Recurring, finds the track remain
Of joys, and lives its life again.
Ev'n now does memory wake the time,
When wont with thee, Belov'd, to climb,
Though thrice ten years have past between
With chequer'd course, and many a scene
Quick-changing leave memorials there
Of joyance some, and some of care;
Still in my memory lives the time,
When first with thee I us'd to climb,
As in this passing vernal hour,
In search of every opening flow'r
And with sweet nature's love imbued,
The hazel copse, the beechen wood,
The green and chalky hills that swell
From Buriton's sequester'd dell.
When wont with thee, Belov'd, to climb,
Though thrice ten years have past between
With chequer'd course, and many a scene
Quick-changing leave memorials there
Of joyance some, and some of care;
Still in my memory lives the time,
When first with thee I us'd to climb,
As in this passing vernal hour,
In search of every opening flow'r
And with sweet nature's love imbued,
The hazel copse, the beechen wood,
The green and chalky hills that swell
From Buriton's sequester'd dell.
97
Each well-known spot is vivid now,
Each gather'd flow'r! On yonder brow,
To which, the sloping hill side round,
The greensward pathway gently wound,
And from its flat and terrac'd height
Spread forth before the raptur'd sight
Low Petersfield's extended vale,
The woodland Sorrel's petals pale
Vein'd with fine purple streaks we found,
Hid in the thicket-mantled ground,
And cropt admiring. Yonder wood
Was with a purfled carpet strew'd
Of yellow-tinted white and blue,
Where in the beechen covert grew
Wind-flow'r and Harebell, side by side,
In station, not in kind, allied;
But lovely both, nor lovelier race
Gives the rathe Spring her blooming grace:
That upright with white petals spread,
This drooping with embowed head;
That scentless, this a fragrant smell
Diffusing from each azure bell;
Azure or white, for, though more rare,
The milk-white Harebell too was there.
Each gather'd flow'r! On yonder brow,
To which, the sloping hill side round,
The greensward pathway gently wound,
And from its flat and terrac'd height
Spread forth before the raptur'd sight
Low Petersfield's extended vale,
The woodland Sorrel's petals pale
Vein'd with fine purple streaks we found,
Hid in the thicket-mantled ground,
And cropt admiring. Yonder wood
Was with a purfled carpet strew'd
Of yellow-tinted white and blue,
Where in the beechen covert grew
Wind-flow'r and Harebell, side by side,
In station, not in kind, allied;
But lovely both, nor lovelier race
Gives the rathe Spring her blooming grace:
That upright with white petals spread,
This drooping with embowed head;
That scentless, this a fragrant smell
Diffusing from each azure bell;
Azure or white, for, though more rare,
The milk-white Harebell too was there.
Skirting the hill's projecting foot,
Where heav'd the ground the twisted root,
In those tall elm-trees' lengthen'd row
We paus'd to see their blossoms blow:
And in the hanging copse, beyond
The mirrour of that crystal pond,
To see what seem'd a sheet of snow
Clothe the dark branches of the Sloe,
Yet of its lingering foliage bare;
What time the keen and biting air
Smote the hard earth with influence frore,
And warn'd of winter not yet o'er,
And peasants, conscious of the claim,
Gave it the “blackthorn winter's” name.
Where heav'd the ground the twisted root,
In those tall elm-trees' lengthen'd row
We paus'd to see their blossoms blow:
And in the hanging copse, beyond
The mirrour of that crystal pond,
To see what seem'd a sheet of snow
Clothe the dark branches of the Sloe,
98
What time the keen and biting air
Smote the hard earth with influence frore,
And warn'd of winter not yet o'er,
And peasants, conscious of the claim,
Gave it the “blackthorn winter's” name.
In that broad field, 'mid springing grass,
First of his lipt and horned class,
The early-flowering Orchis show'd
His smooth and spotted leaves, and glow'd
With spikey stalk elate, and head
Of spiral blossoms purple-red.
And few of that most curious race,
Or those that rival them in grace,
Perhaps exceed, the Ophrys kind,
But in the advancing season join'd,
Stamp'd with their insect imagery,
Gnat, fly, and butterfly, and bee,
To lure us in pursuit to rove
That winding coombe, that shady grove.
First of his lipt and horned class,
The early-flowering Orchis show'd
His smooth and spotted leaves, and glow'd
With spikey stalk elate, and head
Of spiral blossoms purple-red.
And few of that most curious race,
Or those that rival them in grace,
Perhaps exceed, the Ophrys kind,
But in the advancing season join'd,
Stamp'd with their insect imagery,
Gnat, fly, and butterfly, and bee,
To lure us in pursuit to rove
That winding coombe, that shady grove.
There in the hollow lane, whose sides
The native rock o'erarching hides,
While from its moss-grown fissures well
The trickling drops, the Moschatel
Peep'd meekly from his rocky bed;
And scarcely dar'd his cluster'd head
Of star-like blossoms white, with scent
Faint, not ungrateful, redolent,
To proffer to the searching sight.
And there, with star-like blossoms white,
But less afraid of publick gaze,
The Stichwort spread its brighter rays;
Where the worn pathway wont to lead
Our steps along yon water'd mead,
Laced by that clear perennial brook.
Nor fail'd we rambling there to look
On “daisy pied, and violet blue,”
And creeping Crowfoot's yellow hue,
And that fair flow'r, “all silvery white,
That paints the meadows with delight :”
To see the pallid Primrose prank
With yellow eye the tufted bank;
To see the flaunting Marigold
Gay from its marshy bed unfold
Mid minor lights its disks that shine,
Like suns for brightness. Nor decline
The Speedwell's azure tints to mark,
And ivy-figur'd foliage dark,
Which our sequestered homestead field
And our lov'd garden walk would yield.
The native rock o'erarching hides,
While from its moss-grown fissures well
The trickling drops, the Moschatel
Peep'd meekly from his rocky bed;
And scarcely dar'd his cluster'd head
Of star-like blossoms white, with scent
Faint, not ungrateful, redolent,
To proffer to the searching sight.
And there, with star-like blossoms white,
But less afraid of publick gaze,
The Stichwort spread its brighter rays;
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Our steps along yon water'd mead,
Laced by that clear perennial brook.
Nor fail'd we rambling there to look
On “daisy pied, and violet blue,”
And creeping Crowfoot's yellow hue,
And that fair flow'r, “all silvery white,
That paints the meadows with delight :”
To see the pallid Primrose prank
With yellow eye the tufted bank;
To see the flaunting Marigold
Gay from its marshy bed unfold
Mid minor lights its disks that shine,
Like suns for brightness. Nor decline
The Speedwell's azure tints to mark,
And ivy-figur'd foliage dark,
Which our sequestered homestead field
And our lov'd garden walk would yield.
Yes, pleasant then, Belov'd, to thee,
And pleasant, well thou know'st, to me
That garden walk, that homestead still,
Hard by the gently sloping hill,
Whence the old Church of Norman age
Down on the ancient Parsonage
Look'd smilingly, as if to shed
A blessing on the pastor's head.
And pleasant was the path, that wound
Slow rising to the terrac'd mound;
The brook, that through the mead pursued
Its living course; the beechen wood,
Hung on the sloping hill of chalk;
And copse, and elm-trees' lengthen'd walk,
And rock-hewn lane, were pleasant all!
And still the awakening flow'rs recall,
Which still with no unheedful eye
We pass each vernal season by,
Yes, they recall the scenes anew,
Where erst each pleasing form we knew,
The scenes which backward thought endears,
Seen thro' the gathering mist of years;
And with them many a vision raise
Of nature's charms in bygone days,
And pleasant rambles once our own
In the lov'd haunts of Buriton!
And pleasant, well thou know'st, to me
That garden walk, that homestead still,
Hard by the gently sloping hill,
Whence the old Church of Norman age
Down on the ancient Parsonage
Look'd smilingly, as if to shed
A blessing on the pastor's head.
And pleasant was the path, that wound
Slow rising to the terrac'd mound;
The brook, that through the mead pursued
Its living course; the beechen wood,
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And copse, and elm-trees' lengthen'd walk,
And rock-hewn lane, were pleasant all!
And still the awakening flow'rs recall,
Which still with no unheedful eye
We pass each vernal season by,
Yes, they recall the scenes anew,
Where erst each pleasing form we knew,
The scenes which backward thought endears,
Seen thro' the gathering mist of years;
And with them many a vision raise
Of nature's charms in bygone days,
And pleasant rambles once our own
In the lov'd haunts of Buriton!
The study of Botany not to be slighted. Its pleasures and advantages. Not limited to a knowledge of the structure of flowers. Moral and religious uses
Neglect, despise, deride, who will,
The Botanist's unthrifty skill!
What though his unambitious aim
Seek not to share Linnæan fame;
Tho' of his lov'd pursuit to sound
The dark recesses more profound
He boast not; yet from flow'r to flow'r
To ramble thro' a leisure hour,
And like the honey-bee to sip
Fresh fragrance from each nectar'd lip,
Free nature's gift, a joy bestows,
Which fashion's tribe nor heeds nor knows.
The Botanist's unthrifty skill!
What though his unambitious aim
Seek not to share Linnæan fame;
Tho' of his lov'd pursuit to sound
The dark recesses more profound
He boast not; yet from flow'r to flow'r
To ramble thro' a leisure hour,
And like the honey-bee to sip
Fresh fragrance from each nectar'd lip,
Free nature's gift, a joy bestows,
Which fashion's tribe nor heeds nor knows.
To nature's every varying face
It gives each day a novel grace,
New wonders; and unfolds a store
Of knowledge not perceiv'd before.
To many a healthful walk abroad
It tempts, and many a neary road
Enlivens, cheering us along
As blithely as the pilgrim's song;
Reveals a garden in the waste,
And shows a feast before us placed,
Which he who wills may make his own,
Himself enriching, robbing none,
From taint, or fear of ill secure,
Uncostly, blameless, peaceful, pure!
And in a world, where guilt and woe
Too oft from thoughtless pastime flow:
And pleasure; purchas'd at the cost
Of health, and peace, and virtue lost,
And conscience; with illusive dreams
Snares the weak sense: not ill meseems
Does he amusement seek to find,
Not ill employ his vacant mind,
Who fixing there no conscious sting
For hurt or harm to living thing,
At nature's common board can feed
His simple taste; in every weed
As in some precious mine discern
A gem; and see at every turn
A bow'r of bliss salute his sight,
A paradise of new delight:
Perhaps not satisfied to scan
Alone what meets the eye, the plan
And outward structure of the flower;
But studious what its vital power
To scrutinise, and what its kind
And properties, and what, design'd
For man's behoof, its parts produce
Of pleasure, ornament, and use.
It gives each day a novel grace,
New wonders; and unfolds a store
Of knowledge not perceiv'd before.
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It tempts, and many a neary road
Enlivens, cheering us along
As blithely as the pilgrim's song;
Reveals a garden in the waste,
And shows a feast before us placed,
Which he who wills may make his own,
Himself enriching, robbing none,
From taint, or fear of ill secure,
Uncostly, blameless, peaceful, pure!
And in a world, where guilt and woe
Too oft from thoughtless pastime flow:
And pleasure; purchas'd at the cost
Of health, and peace, and virtue lost,
And conscience; with illusive dreams
Snares the weak sense: not ill meseems
Does he amusement seek to find,
Not ill employ his vacant mind,
Who fixing there no conscious sting
For hurt or harm to living thing,
At nature's common board can feed
His simple taste; in every weed
As in some precious mine discern
A gem; and see at every turn
A bow'r of bliss salute his sight,
A paradise of new delight:
Perhaps not satisfied to scan
Alone what meets the eye, the plan
And outward structure of the flower;
But studious what its vital power
To scrutinise, and what its kind
And properties, and what, design'd
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Of pleasure, ornament, and use.
Chief if the mind, entic'd to stray
In pleasant nature's flowery way,
Turn not aside its bounden care
From duty's bidding, nor forbear
Its just regards from God and men,
Our proper task assign'd. And then,
If contemplation in the school,
Where nature bears imperial rule,
God's delegate, dispose the heart
To dwell with virtue, and, apart
From worldly schemes and worldly strife,
Woo the pure joys of rural life.
Then most of all, if nature bear
Up to her great Artificer
The heavenward thought; and in the glass
Reflective of the blooming grass,
Incline us more and more to see
Of Him, who form'd, and bade it be,
And for its form a garb prepares;
And gives an earnest in his cares
For the brief plant, that he who thus
Provides for them must care for us.
In pleasant nature's flowery way,
Turn not aside its bounden care
From duty's bidding, nor forbear
Its just regards from God and men,
Our proper task assign'd. And then,
If contemplation in the school,
Where nature bears imperial rule,
God's delegate, dispose the heart
To dwell with virtue, and, apart
From worldly schemes and worldly strife,
Woo the pure joys of rural life.
Then most of all, if nature bear
Up to her great Artificer
The heavenward thought; and in the glass
Reflective of the blooming grass,
Incline us more and more to see
Of Him, who form'd, and bade it be,
And for its form a garb prepares;
And gives an earnest in his cares
For the brief plant, that he who thus
Provides for them must care for us.
Then to the soul, as to the sight,
Of learning full, as of delight,
Is nature's herbal: every flow'r,
That animates the passing hour,
Breathes on the meditative ear
A voice, that who hath ears may hear:
And thus they wake the solemn thought,
In words by heavenly Wisdom taught
To heedless, faithless men below,
“Consider, Christian, how we grow !”
Of learning full, as of delight,
Is nature's herbal: every flow'r,
That animates the passing hour,
Breathes on the meditative ear
A voice, that who hath ears may hear:
And thus they wake the solemn thought,
In words by heavenly Wisdom taught
103
“Consider, Christian, how we grow !”
Vegetation still lingers. Birds still cautious. Early builders. Thrush-kind. Hedge-Sparrow or Chanter. Her eggs often plundered. Purposes of Providence not always clear. His paternal benignity notwithstanding
With gentle spring divided reign.
Yet the more cautious plants deny
To trust them to the tempting sky;
While prompter some behold with grief
The shrivell'd flow'r, the blacken'd leaf;
Oft as the keen north-eastern gale
Bears on his wings the arrowy hail,
Or spreads, the nightly meadows o'er,
Congeal'd the dewy vapour hoar.
And yet the little birds decline
The fabrick of their nests to twine,
Expecting April's genial hours,
And warmer gales, and closer bowers.
But with more forward haste a few
Commence, or erst commenc'd pursue,
The task the wreathed nest to wind.
And chief the thrushes' varied kind
With him, who on the hedgerow chants,
Thence named, his pleasing song; and plants
On leafless bough his lowly home.
Poor bird! full oft 'tis his the doom
His disappointed hopes to rue,
What time the eggs of speckless blue
With wanton glee, his earliest prey,
The youngling peasant bears away,
In gay festoons of packthread strung,
And round the trophied cottage hung.
Poor bird! the art, so lately tried
With more success to turn aside,
With devious course and fluttering wing,
The prowling cat's rapacious spring,
To cheat the keener cowherd fails,
More dangerous foe! Nor aught avails
Heard more or less, the winter long,
His soft and sweetly warbled song,
Where by the cottage garden's bound,
Or fence, the treasur'd stacks around,
He dwells, his favourite place of rest,
A modest inoffensive guest!
Commence, or erst commenc'd pursue,
The task the wreathed nest to wind.
And chief the thrushes' varied kind
With him, who on the hedgerow chants,
Thence named, his pleasing song; and plants
On leafless bough his lowly home.
Poor bird! full oft 'tis his the doom
His disappointed hopes to rue,
What time the eggs of speckless blue
With wanton glee, his earliest prey,
The youngling peasant bears away,
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And round the trophied cottage hung.
Poor bird! the art, so lately tried
With more success to turn aside,
With devious course and fluttering wing,
The prowling cat's rapacious spring,
To cheat the keener cowherd fails,
More dangerous foe! Nor aught avails
Heard more or less, the winter long,
His soft and sweetly warbled song,
Where by the cottage garden's bound,
Or fence, the treasur'd stacks around,
He dwells, his favourite place of rest,
A modest inoffensive guest!
What secret, what mysterious cause
The hedgerow's harmless chanter draws,
Or ere the sprouting leaves have spread
Their covert round, his nestlings' bed
To form, with slender skill inclos'd,
And to the spoiler's eye expos'd,
'Twere hard to say. Nor does it seem
Accordant with his bounteous scheme,
Who makes his wise provisions tend
Successful to their destin'd end,
And in each living breast implants
Perception suited to its wants.
But if of his capacious plan
Some parts we fail, howe'er we scan,
To compass; it but serves to show
How much our wisdom is below
His folly! And ev'n here the sign
Of his paternal pow'r benign,
Who for all nature cares, we trace:
Whose foresight for each varied race,
Howe'er molested some may feel
Privation, yet the general weal
From perils that its path inclose,
From want, disease, and direr foes
Preserves, and bids its post maintain
In being's many folded chain.
The hedgerow's harmless chanter draws,
Or ere the sprouting leaves have spread
Their covert round, his nestlings' bed
To form, with slender skill inclos'd,
And to the spoiler's eye expos'd,
'Twere hard to say. Nor does it seem
Accordant with his bounteous scheme,
Who makes his wise provisions tend
Successful to their destin'd end,
And in each living breast implants
Perception suited to its wants.
But if of his capacious plan
Some parts we fail, howe'er we scan,
To compass; it but serves to show
How much our wisdom is below
His folly! And ev'n here the sign
Of his paternal pow'r benign,
105
Whose foresight for each varied race,
Howe'er molested some may feel
Privation, yet the general weal
From perils that its path inclose,
From want, disease, and direr foes
Preserves, and bids its post maintain
In being's many folded chain.
Ill counterbalanced by good. The Carrion Crow. The Magpie. Their utility. Skill shown in the Magpie's nest. Its security
Nor would I dare the forming mind
Arraign misjudging, if I find
Now and again his work indued
With little, as may seem, to good
Propense, and apter to fulfill
Designs and purposes of ill.
Arraign misjudging, if I find
Now and again his work indued
With little, as may seem, to good
Propense, and apter to fulfill
Designs and purposes of ill.
Perchance the ill, that meets the sight,
May pass our faculties aright
To judge it; or, if rightly view'd,
The seeming ill may end in good.
May pass our faculties aright
To judge it; or, if rightly view'd,
The seeming ill may end in good.
That Carrion Crow so busy see!
Intent on yonder forked tree
His future mansion to prepare,
Of plaster'd twigs, with wool and hair
Imbedded. Scanty is his claim
To please us; and his very name
May breed disgust, as to the sight
It shows the insatiate appetite,
Coarse, indistinctive. Yet 'tis hence
His Maker wills him to dispense
Man's health and comfort; while for food
He thins the reptile's noxious brood,
And, revelling in his putrid fare,
From taint relieves the loaded air.
Intent on yonder forked tree
His future mansion to prepare,
Of plaster'd twigs, with wool and hair
Imbedded. Scanty is his claim
To please us; and his very name
May breed disgust, as to the sight
It shows the insatiate appetite,
Coarse, indistinctive. Yet 'tis hence
His Maker wills him to dispense
Man's health and comfort; while for food
He thins the reptile's noxious brood,
106
From taint relieves the loaded air.
And he, the loud intrusive Pie,
Who plies his quick wings screaming by,
And not content to steal a feast
Voracious from each neighbouring nest,
His plunder on the poultry's hold
Directs, and on the wattled fold,
Duckling, or chick, or new-fall'n lamb;
If haply from the fleecy dam,
In life's fresh joy and frolick play,
At distance heedlessly they stray:—
To his voracity we owe,
In common with his brother crow,
That from their lurking place are dug
Beetle, and grub, and noxious slug,
And safely thus with unharm'd roots
The grass and sprouting corn-blade shoots.
And well it is, if they who hold
His manners selfish, fraudful, bold,
In well-deserv'd dislike, would turn
Their searching eyes at home, and learn
A lesson, and themselves disclaim
The faults, that in the Pie they blame!
Who plies his quick wings screaming by,
And not content to steal a feast
Voracious from each neighbouring nest,
His plunder on the poultry's hold
Directs, and on the wattled fold,
Duckling, or chick, or new-fall'n lamb;
If haply from the fleecy dam,
In life's fresh joy and frolick play,
At distance heedlessly they stray:—
To his voracity we owe,
In common with his brother crow,
That from their lurking place are dug
Beetle, and grub, and noxious slug,
And safely thus with unharm'd roots
The grass and sprouting corn-blade shoots.
And well it is, if they who hold
His manners selfish, fraudful, bold,
In well-deserv'd dislike, would turn
Their searching eyes at home, and learn
A lesson, and themselves disclaim
The faults, that in the Pie they blame!
But of his ways however ill
We deem and justly, yet for skill
To build his dwelling, few can vie
In talent with the artful Pie.
We deem and justly, yet for skill
To build his dwelling, few can vie
In talent with the artful Pie.
On turf-rear'd platform, intermixt
With clay and cross-laid sticks betwixt,
'Mid hawthorn, fir, or elm-tree slung,
Is piled for the expected young
A soft and neatly woven home.
Above, of tangled thorns a dome
Forms a sharp fence the nest about,
To keep all rash intruders out.
So, like a robber in his hold,
Or some marauding baron bold
On castled cliff in olden time,
They sit unblench'd in state sublime
And fortress intricately plann'd;
As if they felt, that they, whose hand
Is aim'd at others, rightly deem
The hand of others aim'd at them.
So there they dwell man's dwellings nigh,
But not in man's society,
Arabian-like: and little share
His love, nor for his hatred care;
Prompt of his rural stores a part
To seise, and joyful if their art
His efforts at revenge elude;
Then to their favourite solitude
Retiring on their fortress-tree,
Enjoy their spoil secure and free.
With clay and cross-laid sticks betwixt,
'Mid hawthorn, fir, or elm-tree slung,
Is piled for the expected young
107
Above, of tangled thorns a dome
Forms a sharp fence the nest about,
To keep all rash intruders out.
So, like a robber in his hold,
Or some marauding baron bold
On castled cliff in olden time,
They sit unblench'd in state sublime
And fortress intricately plann'd;
As if they felt, that they, whose hand
Is aim'd at others, rightly deem
The hand of others aim'd at them.
So there they dwell man's dwellings nigh,
But not in man's society,
Arabian-like: and little share
His love, nor for his hatred care;
Prompt of his rural stores a part
To seise, and joyful if their art
His efforts at revenge elude;
Then to their favourite solitude
Retiring on their fortress-tree,
Enjoy their spoil secure and free.
Jack-daws. Remarkable nestling places. Provisions of nature, though obscure, adapted to their end
What motive prompts the pie to dwell
High on his barrier'd citadel,
Fit refuge for his plunder'd prey,
'Tis easy; 'twere more hard to say,
What motive less conspicuous draws,
As now, the congregated Daws
In spire, or loop'd and window'd tower,
Of hallow'd fane their nestling bower
To settle; and those airy cells
Conventual by the pealing bells
Hold undisturb'd, their lov'd resort;
More lov'd, than old dismantled fort,
Or cavern'd cliff beside the sea,
Or hollow of the woodland tree:
Or, failing that their favourite site
On the tall steeple's cloudy height,
What prompts them to the waste to roam,
And seek a subterranean home,
The burrowing rabbit's haunt; and there
Of sticks and matted wool prepare
Their dwelling, and produce their race
In that unlikely nestling place.
High on his barrier'd citadel,
Fit refuge for his plunder'd prey,
'Tis easy; 'twere more hard to say,
What motive less conspicuous draws,
As now, the congregated Daws
In spire, or loop'd and window'd tower,
Of hallow'd fane their nestling bower
108
Conventual by the pealing bells
Hold undisturb'd, their lov'd resort;
More lov'd, than old dismantled fort,
Or cavern'd cliff beside the sea,
Or hollow of the woodland tree:
Or, failing that their favourite site
On the tall steeple's cloudy height,
What prompts them to the waste to roam,
And seek a subterranean home,
The burrowing rabbit's haunt; and there
Of sticks and matted wool prepare
Their dwelling, and produce their race
In that unlikely nestling place.
There's many a page in nature's book,
Which, little vers'd therein to look,
The simplest mind may run and read:
But not a few there are, with heed
Observ'd by not untutor'd eyes,
Which puzzle and perplex the wise.
Yet all may see, how strange so e'er
The ways of Providence appear,
They still by various courses tend
To generate the purpos'd end,
And serve to keep, as they're design'd,
In being each created kind.
Which, little vers'd therein to look,
The simplest mind may run and read:
But not a few there are, with heed
Observ'd by not untutor'd eyes,
Which puzzle and perplex the wise.
Yet all may see, how strange so e'er
The ways of Providence appear,
They still by various courses tend
To generate the purpos'd end,
And serve to keep, as they're design'd,
In being each created kind.
Migratory birds. Going from us northward, others coming from the south. Probable causes of migration. Mode of Providence's operations inexplicable. Inference as to heavenly things
But who with scrutinishing eyes
Would pierce thro' nature's mysteries
For guidance of the feather'd race,
Be his the still small voice to trace,
Which calls the inmates of the sea
Now from our southern shores to flee,
Their wintry haunts, our marshy fens
And freshets; and on soaring pens
Speed northward: there on rocks of ice,
In cave or beetling precipice
Which crests the vast Norwegian deep,
Or where the howling tempests sweep
Round Iceland's crags, to rear their broods
'Mid Hyperborean solitudes;
Where untam'd Nature all alone
Sits empress on her giant throne,
And listens to the clanging sound
Of countless pinions flapping round,
And screams that mingle with the roar
Of billows on the desert shore.
Would pierce thro' nature's mysteries
For guidance of the feather'd race,
Be his the still small voice to trace,
109
Now from our southern shores to flee,
Their wintry haunts, our marshy fens
And freshets; and on soaring pens
Speed northward: there on rocks of ice,
In cave or beetling precipice
Which crests the vast Norwegian deep,
Or where the howling tempests sweep
Round Iceland's crags, to rear their broods
'Mid Hyperborean solitudes;
Where untam'd Nature all alone
Sits empress on her giant throne,
And listens to the clanging sound
Of countless pinions flapping round,
And screams that mingle with the roar
Of billows on the desert shore.
Who seeks to pierce by reason's clue
Mysterious nature's windings through,
Be his the still small voice to trace,
Which from their wintry dwelling place
Beyond the midland-sea, from lands
Where Afric spreads her glowing sands,
Or where round lone Atlantick isles
Old ocean wreathes his crisped smiles,
Calls wafted on the vernal winds
The smaller migratory kinds
To summer in our temperate clime;
Which bids them know the appointed time,
The appointed goal which bids them know,
And how their pathless course to go
O'er the wide waves, and how resort
Unerring to the appointed port.
Mysterious nature's windings through,
Be his the still small voice to trace,
Which from their wintry dwelling place
Beyond the midland-sea, from lands
Where Afric spreads her glowing sands,
Or where round lone Atlantick isles
Old ocean wreathes his crisped smiles,
Calls wafted on the vernal winds
The smaller migratory kinds
To summer in our temperate clime;
Which bids them know the appointed time,
The appointed goal which bids them know,
And how their pathless course to go
O'er the wide waves, and how resort
Unerring to the appointed port.
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Now ere the martial month conclude
In lamb-like guise his empire rude,
But more through April's month of showers,
And May's sweet month of blooming flowers;
For cooler air perhaps, or food
Perhaps more copious, or their brood
Beneath a more congenial sky
To hatch and rear, they northward fly
Their airy course remote. The ends,
Which th' all-disposing mind intends,
We guess: but what the secret sense,
Unknown to man's intelligence,
Which prompts them when away to start,
And how, and whither; what the chart,
The compass, and the guiding helm,
Which steers them o'er the wat'ry realm;
Of this what science can explore,
And reason fathom, is no more
Than the Creator's law to know,
Who wills their going, and they go;
And straightway to their future home
He wills their coming, and they come.
In lamb-like guise his empire rude,
But more through April's month of showers,
And May's sweet month of blooming flowers;
For cooler air perhaps, or food
Perhaps more copious, or their brood
Beneath a more congenial sky
To hatch and rear, they northward fly
Their airy course remote. The ends,
Which th' all-disposing mind intends,
We guess: but what the secret sense,
Unknown to man's intelligence,
Which prompts them when away to start,
And how, and whither; what the chart,
The compass, and the guiding helm,
Which steers them o'er the wat'ry realm;
Of this what science can explore,
And reason fathom, is no more
Than the Creator's law to know,
Who wills their going, and they go;
And straightway to their future home
He wills their coming, and they come.
Inquiring, thoughtful, reasoning, wise
Is man: but much there is that lies
Beyond his utmost skill to solve
Of facts that round and round revolve
In course perpetual. And when thought
Has done its best, the knowledge sought
To render; reason can declare
In answer but that such things are:
That such things are by His decree,
Who made and order'd them to be,
Ev'n as they are: that man may learn
Humility, if he discern
“Darkly in a glass ” the things of heaven.
God and his nature, who hath given
Men but imperfectly to know
The nature of his works below.
Is man: but much there is that lies
Beyond his utmost skill to solve
Of facts that round and round revolve
In course perpetual. And when thought
Has done its best, the knowledge sought
To render; reason can declare
In answer but that such things are:
That such things are by His decree,
Who made and order'd them to be,
111
Humility, if he discern
“Darkly in a glass ” the things of heaven.
God and his nature, who hath given
Men but imperfectly to know
The nature of his works below.
Sudden arrival of summer birds. Wryneck: his peculiarities. Beauty of plumage. Formation, proofs of design
'Tis like a dream of fairy land,
Or waving of enchanter's wand,
Such as Arabian fablers tell.
To-day the little birds, that dwell
Our island's constant inmates, reign
Unrivall'd in their own domain:
Tomorrow; and the silent night
Will many a stranger bird his flight
Have hither sped, with them to share
Their haunts, their buds, their insect fare,
And brooding cares at hand; to make
With them the field and leafy brake
With song of lovetaught musick ring;
With them to prune the glossy wing
'Mid the green boughs, or sportive fly
Quick glancing through the sunny sky.
Or waving of enchanter's wand,
Such as Arabian fablers tell.
To-day the little birds, that dwell
Our island's constant inmates, reign
Unrivall'd in their own domain:
Tomorrow; and the silent night
Will many a stranger bird his flight
Have hither sped, with them to share
Their haunts, their buds, their insect fare,
And brooding cares at hand; to make
With them the field and leafy brake
With song of lovetaught musick ring;
With them to prune the glossy wing
'Mid the green boughs, or sportive fly
Quick glancing through the sunny sky.
First of the migratory swarm
His lodging in our woods to form,
The Wryneck comes. A lonely bird,
Nor oft his gentle voice is heard,
Nor oft are spread, retir'd and shy,
His pinions in the open sky.
Yet when occasion serves, 'tis well,
Where in Hamptonian groves they dwell,
Or Gloucester's wooded vales remote,
Their habits and their form to note:
To note the mottled plumes that grace,
As with a robe of tissued lace
Their russet wings; to see them drill
With sharp and penetrating bill
Their cavern'd dwelling, and among
Their insect prey the horn-tipt tongue
Tenacious dart; and as they pry
Now here now there, and turn awry
The head and spiral neck, to mark,
How from the crown descending dark
With course aslant, the listed black
Inlays the gray and speckled back.
His lodging in our woods to form,
The Wryneck comes. A lonely bird,
Nor oft his gentle voice is heard,
Nor oft are spread, retir'd and shy,
His pinions in the open sky.
Yet when occasion serves, 'tis well,
Where in Hamptonian groves they dwell,
112
Their habits and their form to note:
To note the mottled plumes that grace,
As with a robe of tissued lace
Their russet wings; to see them drill
With sharp and penetrating bill
Their cavern'd dwelling, and among
Their insect prey the horn-tipt tongue
Tenacious dart; and as they pry
Now here now there, and turn awry
The head and spiral neck, to mark,
How from the crown descending dark
With course aslant, the listed black
Inlays the gray and speckled back.
The embroidery of that vesture gray
Nor pen nor pencil can portray:
But still more wondrous to the mind
Is that sharp tip of horn, design'd
The pliant length of tongue to guide
With constant aim unerring; glide
Resistless to the emmet's nest,
The dark mould piercing; there arrest,
And to the expecting bill convey
On gluey point the reptile prey.
The pliant tongue's horn-pointed frame,
The adhesive glue, the unerring aim;
What proofs are here of wise design,
Of nice adjustment, pow'r divine,
Disclosing, what the will intends,
By means adapted to the ends;
Nor failing by those means to teach
His works the intended ends to reach!
Nor pen nor pencil can portray:
But still more wondrous to the mind
Is that sharp tip of horn, design'd
The pliant length of tongue to guide
With constant aim unerring; glide
Resistless to the emmet's nest,
The dark mould piercing; there arrest,
And to the expecting bill convey
On gluey point the reptile prey.
The pliant tongue's horn-pointed frame,
The adhesive glue, the unerring aim;
What proofs are here of wise design,
Of nice adjustment, pow'r divine,
Disclosing, what the will intends,
By means adapted to the ends;
Nor failing by those means to teach
His works the intended ends to reach!
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Willow Wren. Black Cap. Wheatear. Swallows sometimes arrive in March: not from a torpid state, but from southern climates. Strength of wing. Beauty of movements. Difficulty of following them with the eye.
But blither forms and voices clear
Soon greet the expecting eye and ear.
Soon greet the expecting eye and ear.
Where the gray sallow's bursting down
Is girt with many a golden crown,
Fain would I now, in rival gold
His slender form attir'd, behold
The willow-haunting Wren, and hear
His plaintive woodnotes warbled clear,
As on the breath of morning floats
The musick of his hymn-like notes.
Is girt with many a golden crown,
Fain would I now, in rival gold
His slender form attir'd, behold
The willow-haunting Wren, and hear
His plaintive woodnotes warbled clear,
As on the breath of morning floats
The musick of his hymn-like notes.
Fain 'mid the hawthorn's budding boughs,
Or where the dark green ivy shows
Its purple fruit the foliage through,
Would I the early Blackcap view,
With sable cowl and amice gray
Arriv'd from regions far away,
Like palmer from some sainted shrine,
Or holy hills of Palestine:
And hear his desultory bill
Such notes of varying cadence trill,
That mimick art that quaver'd strain
May strive to match, but strive in vain.
Or where the dark green ivy shows
Its purple fruit the foliage through,
Would I the early Blackcap view,
With sable cowl and amice gray
Arriv'd from regions far away,
Like palmer from some sainted shrine,
Or holy hills of Palestine:
And hear his desultory bill
Such notes of varying cadence trill,
That mimick art that quaver'd strain
May strive to match, but strive in vain.
In the wild rabbits' haunt, or field,
Where the brown fallow newly till'd
The reptiles 'mid the crumbling soil
Upturns, or flies, his favourite spoil,
Fain would I see the Wheatear show
In the dark sward his rump of snow,
Of spotless brightness. Fain would see
O'er furze-clad waste, or grassy lea,
By hedgerow, pool, and streamlet's brim,
The kindred tribes of Swallows skim
Unwearied: that, a cautious band,
On heath or hollow'd banks of sand,
From the shunn'd haunts of man aloof
Sequester'd; these, beneath his roof
Confiding inmates: if the prime
Tempt them in March's early time
To spread their pinions' northward sails;
Nor sleety storms and chilling gales
Till April's milder month delay
Their voyage o'er the watry way.
Where the brown fallow newly till'd
The reptiles 'mid the crumbling soil
Upturns, or flies, his favourite spoil,
Fain would I see the Wheatear show
In the dark sward his rump of snow,
Of spotless brightness. Fain would see
O'er furze-clad waste, or grassy lea,
By hedgerow, pool, and streamlet's brim,
The kindred tribes of Swallows skim
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On heath or hollow'd banks of sand,
From the shunn'd haunts of man aloof
Sequester'd; these, beneath his roof
Confiding inmates: if the prime
Tempt them in March's early time
To spread their pinions' northward sails;
Nor sleety storms and chilling gales
Till April's milder month delay
Their voyage o'er the watry way.
And see, they come! But not I deem
From reed-fring'd bank of pool or stream,
As if in clusters, link on link,
Clinging beneath the cavern'd brink,
Or plung'd within the waters deep,
They slept their livelong winter's sleep,
Intomb'd, a kind of living death;
And now, at spring's awakening breath,
Start forth with active vigour rife,
Exulting in reviving life.
Though now and then a youngling bird,
From the long flight perchance deterr'd
By weakness, may have linger'd here,
And by steep brook or rushy mere
Reluctant hid the folded wing;
Prompt with reviving warmth to fling
The dull unwelcome sleep away,
And revel in the sunny ray.
From reed-fring'd bank of pool or stream,
As if in clusters, link on link,
Clinging beneath the cavern'd brink,
Or plung'd within the waters deep,
They slept their livelong winter's sleep,
Intomb'd, a kind of living death;
And now, at spring's awakening breath,
Start forth with active vigour rife,
Exulting in reviving life.
Though now and then a youngling bird,
From the long flight perchance deterr'd
By weakness, may have linger'd here,
And by steep brook or rushy mere
Reluctant hid the folded wing;
Prompt with reviving warmth to fling
The dull unwelcome sleep away,
And revel in the sunny ray.
But different far the flocks that throng
Now day by day the shores along.
Now day by day the shores along.
From southern lands, o'er severing seas,
Borne on the equinoctial breeze,
They speed their airy flight remote;
When heav'n by sure and certain note
Gives signal of the appointed time
To sum their pens and change their clime.
Nor reck they of the journey's length,
By sea, by land, whose pinions' strength,
When of their destin'd course the whole
Is travers'd, and attain'd the goal,
Delights th' aërial maze to weave
The summer long, from morn to eve,
Day still succeeding day; with speed
That mocks the tempest-footed steed;
With ease, that all that mazy way
Is but enjoyment's idle play;
With vigour, heedless of repose,
Which nor fatigue nor respite knows,
As fresh o'er evening's twilight lawn,
As at the peep of young-eyed dawn.
Borne on the equinoctial breeze,
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When heav'n by sure and certain note
Gives signal of the appointed time
To sum their pens and change their clime.
Nor reck they of the journey's length,
By sea, by land, whose pinions' strength,
When of their destin'd course the whole
Is travers'd, and attain'd the goal,
Delights th' aërial maze to weave
The summer long, from morn to eve,
Day still succeeding day; with speed
That mocks the tempest-footed steed;
With ease, that all that mazy way
Is but enjoyment's idle play;
With vigour, heedless of repose,
Which nor fatigue nor respite knows,
As fresh o'er evening's twilight lawn,
As at the peep of young-eyed dawn.
Though many a songster's warbled strain
The listener's raptur'd ear inchain
With song, and trill, and rise, and fall,
Melodious more and musical;
No fairer object holds the sight,
Than the swift flight and counter flight,
The turns, and bends, and ceaseless spring
Elastick, of the swallow's wing.
The listener's raptur'd ear inchain
With song, and trill, and rise, and fall,
Melodious more and musical;
No fairer object holds the sight,
Than the swift flight and counter flight,
The turns, and bends, and ceaseless spring
Elastick, of the swallow's wing.
Oft have I stood in silent gaze,
And watch'd their labyrinthine ways,
When first, their annual voyage o'er,
Round some selected spot they pour,
A social band: and here and there,
Impetuous through the darken'd air
Right on with moveless pinions glide;
Or deviate, like the eddying tide,
Abrupt; or wheeling round above,
Below, with courses interwove,
But each by each untangled, dart;
As with design each untried part
Of their adopted reign to view,
Each nook, recess, and avenue,
Or ere content no more to roam
They fix them in their summer home.
And watch'd their labyrinthine ways,
When first, their annual voyage o'er,
Round some selected spot they pour,
A social band: and here and there,
Impetuous through the darken'd air
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Or deviate, like the eddying tide,
Abrupt; or wheeling round above,
Below, with courses interwove,
But each by each untangled, dart;
As with design each untried part
Of their adopted reign to view,
Each nook, recess, and avenue,
Or ere content no more to roam
They fix them in their summer home.
Then have I sought in vain to spy
Distinct each figure speeding by;
And ponder'd all their curious modes
Of being, and their lov'd abodes
And mansionry; the pendent bed
In shaft, or eave, or window-shed;
And what their houshold cares, and sports;
Their summer haunts; and far resorts
For winter sojourn: till the Muse
Has thus her meditative views
Embodied, and in strain addrest
Of welcoming her household guest.
Distinct each figure speeding by;
And ponder'd all their curious modes
Of being, and their lov'd abodes
And mansionry; the pendent bed
In shaft, or eave, or window-shed;
And what their houshold cares, and sports;
Their summer haunts; and far resorts
For winter sojourn: till the Muse
Has thus her meditative views
Embodied, and in strain addrest
Of welcoming her household guest.
Address to the House Swallow
Stay thee, thou bird of nimblest wing,
Herald and harbinger of spring,
As round and round in airy ring
Thou wheel'st thy flight;
Or dart'st right on, as if to meet
My pensive steps, when lo! more fleet
Than bowyer's shaft, thy turnings cheat
The following sight:
Herald and harbinger of spring,
As round and round in airy ring
Thou wheel'st thy flight;
Or dart'st right on, as if to meet
My pensive steps, when lo! more fleet
Than bowyer's shaft, thy turnings cheat
The following sight:
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Stay, swallow, stay! I fain would view
Thy glossy plumes of changeful hue,
Where black, and brown, and green, and blue,
Conflicting vie;
Fain would I view thy belted chest,
Thy sable robe, thy snowy vest,
Thy front and chin in kerchief drest
Of rufous die:
Thy glossy plumes of changeful hue,
Where black, and brown, and green, and blue,
Conflicting vie;
Fain would I view thy belted chest,
Thy sable robe, thy snowy vest,
Thy front and chin in kerchief drest
Of rufous die:
The steerage of thy forked tail,
Thy dusky legs so short and frail,
Each pointed wing's expansive sail,
I fain would mark.—
Thou wilt not? Well then, onward go;
Well deem'st thou, thou hast tasks enow,
To hold thee through the summer's glow
Till winter dark.
Thy dusky legs so short and frail,
Each pointed wing's expansive sail,
I fain would mark.—
Thou wilt not? Well then, onward go;
Well deem'st thou, thou hast tasks enow,
To hold thee through the summer's glow
Till winter dark.
Go! and or ere the eye of day
Strike the low thatch with level ray,
Trill from thy home to morning gray
A welcome sweet!
Or call to aid, with sharp shrill cry,
Thy tribes; and dart on him from high,
If owl or kestrel, sailing by,
Thy precincts threat.
Strike the low thatch with level ray,
Trill from thy home to morning gray
A welcome sweet!
Or call to aid, with sharp shrill cry,
Thy tribes; and dart on him from high,
If owl or kestrel, sailing by,
Thy precincts threat.
Go! and beneath yon rafter'd shed
Hang thy clay house, and procreant bed;
Or the strait chimney downward thread,
Safe place to lay
Thy six white eggs, with red besprent;
Now hovering o'er the steep descent,
Now in thy murky chamber pent
The livelong day.
Hang thy clay house, and procreant bed;
Or the strait chimney downward thread,
Safe place to lay
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Now hovering o'er the steep descent,
Now in thy murky chamber pent
The livelong day.
Go! and the mead or hedgerow skim,
Or, passing, sip the water's brim;
Or plunge thee in the dimpled stream,
Thy wing to prune:
Or with thy mate, now low, now high,
In sport thy viewless pinions ply;
And catch with sounding beak the fly,
Thy nestlings' boon.
Or, passing, sip the water's brim;
Or plunge thee in the dimpled stream,
Thy wing to prune:
Or with thy mate, now low, now high,
In sport thy viewless pinions ply;
And catch with sounding beak the fly,
Thy nestlings' boon.
Go! and abroad thy nestlings lead,
Perch'd on the chimney top to feed,
And train'd the quivering wing to spread
For doubtful flight:
Soon shall they make more bold essay,
Mix with their kindred groups in play,
And round the village dwellings stray,
And church-topp'd height;
Perch'd on the chimney top to feed,
And train'd the quivering wing to spread
For doubtful flight:
Soon shall they make more bold essay,
Mix with their kindred groups in play,
And round the village dwellings stray,
And church-topp'd height;
Now watch to see thee duly bring
The wonted meal, and forward spring
With small brisk note, and on the wing
Their dole receive;
Now fearless follow, here and there,
The insect myriads of the air,
And thee to fresh domestick care
Forsaken leave.
The wonted meal, and forward spring
With small brisk note, and on the wing
Their dole receive;
Now fearless follow, here and there,
The insect myriads of the air,
And thee to fresh domestick care
Forsaken leave.
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Go! and a mother's task renew,
Thy cares, and toils, and joys pursue,
Long as mild autumn, bath'd in dew,
The welkin warms;
Till chill October's fickle hour
Shall warn thee with thy tribes to cower
On each slope roof and sunny tower,
In countless swarms.
Thy cares, and toils, and joys pursue,
Long as mild autumn, bath'd in dew,
The welkin warms;
Till chill October's fickle hour
Shall warn thee with thy tribes to cower
On each slope roof and sunny tower,
In countless swarms.
Then, where more balmy winters smile,
Speed thee to blest Hesperian isle,
Libya's warm shores, or palmy Nile,
On wings of wind:
Taught by His voice, who bids thee know
Thy season, when to come and go,
To seek our genial skies, or throw
Our storms behind.
Speed thee to blest Hesperian isle,
Libya's warm shores, or palmy Nile,
On wings of wind:
Taught by His voice, who bids thee know
Thy season, when to come and go,
To seek our genial skies, or throw
Our storms behind.
Then, as we kindly bade thee hail,
When wafted on the vernal gale
Thou hither sped'st thy northward sail,
With us to dwell;
When Autumn grants no longer stay,
Preparing for thy backward way,
We'll bid thee thus good speed, and say
A kind farewell.
When wafted on the vernal gale
Thou hither sped'st thy northward sail,
With us to dwell;
When Autumn grants no longer stay,
Preparing for thy backward way,
We'll bid thee thus good speed, and say
A kind farewell.
“Farewell, sweet bird! thou still hast been
Companion of our summer scene,
Lov'd inmate of our meadows green,
And rural home:
The twitter of thy cheerful song
We've lov'd to hear; and all day long
See thee on pinion fleet and strong
About us roam.”
Companion of our summer scene,
Lov'd inmate of our meadows green,
And rural home:
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We've lov'd to hear; and all day long
See thee on pinion fleet and strong
About us roam.”
And dost thou no wise lore impart?
Yes, still thou bid'st us act our part
With body prompt and willing heart,
While summer lasts;
Prepar'd the course to take, which He
For us appoints, who summons thee
To climes of grateful warmth to flee
From wintry blasts.
Yes, still thou bid'st us act our part
With body prompt and willing heart,
While summer lasts;
Prepar'd the course to take, which He
For us appoints, who summons thee
To climes of grateful warmth to flee
From wintry blasts.
O, may that warning voice be heard,
Howe'er reveal'd! To thee, sweet bird,
The tongue, that speaks the instructive word,
Within thee dwells:
To us, where'er around we look,
Each passing wing, the field, the brook,
But most his own unerring book
God's wisdom tells.
Howe'er reveal'd! To thee, sweet bird,
The tongue, that speaks the instructive word,
Within thee dwells:
To us, where'er around we look,
Each passing wing, the field, the brook,
But most his own unerring book
God's wisdom tells.
That book directs our mental sight,
To mark thy migratory flight,
With pow'r, surpassing human might,
On thee imprest:
And trains, by thy observant kind,
Man's wilful and reluctant mind,
Its refuge in God's laws to find,
And there to rest.
To mark thy migratory flight,
With pow'r, surpassing human might,
On thee imprest:
And trains, by thy observant kind,
Man's wilful and reluctant mind,
Its refuge in God's laws to find,
And there to rest.
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APRIL.
Intermediate Character between March and May. Name indicative of its property
Hail, pleasant month, that lead'st the way
From March austere to smiling May,
Allied to each! The mornings frore
Now and again with mantle hoar
Array'd; the dry and biting blast,
Shrewd from the north; the sky o'ercast
With fleet and oft recurring shroud
Of sleety storm and darkling cloud;
Claim kindred to thy brother March.
On that dark cloud the braided arch
Imprest; the sparkling sunshine bright,
That now with countless gems of light
The meadow's grassy surface spreads
Resplendent, and with slanting threads
Pierces the falling raindrops' veil,
Now beams unclouded, while the gale
Breathes sweetness from the blooming spray,
Show likeness to thy sister May.
From March austere to smiling May,
Allied to each! The mornings frore
Now and again with mantle hoar
Array'd; the dry and biting blast,
Shrewd from the north; the sky o'ercast
With fleet and oft recurring shroud
Of sleety storm and darkling cloud;
Claim kindred to thy brother March.
On that dark cloud the braided arch
Imprest; the sparkling sunshine bright,
That now with countless gems of light
The meadow's grassy surface spreads
Resplendent, and with slanting threads
Pierces the falling raindrops' veil,
Now beams unclouded, while the gale
Breathes sweetness from the blooming spray,
Show likeness to thy sister May.
Hail, April! if allowed the claim
Involv'd obscurely in thy name,
Else thy subjection deem'd to prove
To Aphrodite, queen of love;
Hail, Opener of the fruitful year ;
Who universal nature's sphere
Terrestrial dost apertly bring
To life, a fresh awakening
Of vegetation in the gloom
Immerst of winter's dreary tomb.
Involv'd obscurely in thy name,
Else thy subjection deem'd to prove
To Aphrodite, queen of love;
Hail, Opener of the fruitful year ;
Who universal nature's sphere
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To life, a fresh awakening
Of vegetation in the gloom
Immerst of winter's dreary tomb.
Nam, quia Ver aperit tunc omnia, densaque cedit
Frigoris asperitas, fetaque terra parit;
Aprilem memorant ab aperto tempore dictum:
Quem Venus injectâ vindicat alma manu.
Frigoris asperitas, fetaque terra parit;
Aprilem memorant ab aperto tempore dictum:
Quem Venus injectâ vindicat alma manu.
—Ov. Fast. iv. 87.
Beauty of reviving nature. The heathen's melancholy feeling. Moschus's elegy on Bion. The Christian's feelings. Spring an emblem of a future state
There is a simple pure delight,
Which the heart feasts on, in the sight
Of nature, when aside she throws
The wintry cearments that inclose
Her vegetable forms, and keep
Their senses in sepulchral sleep.
Which the heart feasts on, in the sight
Of nature, when aside she throws
The wintry cearments that inclose
Her vegetable forms, and keep
Their senses in sepulchral sleep.
Yet are there some, to whom, untaught
By holy lore divine, the thought
Of nature's renovating spring
May rather by dark contrast bring
Sad thoughts and cheerless. Thus on thee,
Sweet rural bard of Sicily,
Sweet Moschus, by thy Dorian well
Reflection's bitter spirit fell,
And steep'd in tears thy plaintive verse,
Hung on lamented Bion's hearse.
“Alas, Alas, the garden flow'r,
When, spent its transitory hour,
With shrivell'd leaves and faded dies
Nipt on its native bed it lies,
Again the wither'd head shall rear,
And flourish yet another year.
But we meanwhile, of human birth,
The great, the brave, the wise of earth,
As soon as once o'erspent we die,
Within the earth's dark caverns lie,
Inglorious; and for ever keep
A long, an endless, wakeless sleep!”
By holy lore divine, the thought
Of nature's renovating spring
May rather by dark contrast bring
Sad thoughts and cheerless. Thus on thee,
Sweet rural bard of Sicily,
Sweet Moschus, by thy Dorian well
Reflection's bitter spirit fell,
And steep'd in tears thy plaintive verse,
Hung on lamented Bion's hearse.
“Alas, Alas, the garden flow'r,
When, spent its transitory hour,
With shrivell'd leaves and faded dies
Nipt on its native bed it lies,
Again the wither'd head shall rear,
And flourish yet another year.
But we meanwhile, of human birth,
The great, the brave, the wise of earth,
As soon as once o'erspent we die,
Within the earth's dark caverns lie,
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A long, an endless, wakeless sleep!”
Truce to the melancholy rhime!
Be rather ours this lenten time,
This time of spring reviv'd, to greet
Returning April's season sweet;
Pledge of the time, when like the flower,
Which now with renovated power
Is waken'd, man again shall bloom;
Yet not like it in wintry gloom
Again to wither and decay,
But flourish in eternal day!
Be rather ours this lenten time,
This time of spring reviv'd, to greet
Returning April's season sweet;
Pledge of the time, when like the flower,
Which now with renovated power
Is waken'd, man again shall bloom;
Yet not like it in wintry gloom
Again to wither and decay,
But flourish in eternal day!
Then, April, hail! With cheerful tone
I bid thee welcome: not alone
For that thou com'st and bring'st along
The sight, and smell, and tuneful song
Of leaf, and flow'r of mingled hue,
And many a plumed warbler new:
But that, with holy wisdom fraught,
Thou wak'st withal the grateful thought,
That, when these pleasant things are o'er,
Things still more pleasant are in store
In God's celestial paradise
“For those that love him;” passing bliss
“Which human eye or ear can scan,
Nor dwell they in the heart of man !”
I bid thee welcome: not alone
For that thou com'st and bring'st along
The sight, and smell, and tuneful song
Of leaf, and flow'r of mingled hue,
And many a plumed warbler new:
But that, with holy wisdom fraught,
Thou wak'st withal the grateful thought,
That, when these pleasant things are o'er,
Things still more pleasant are in store
In God's celestial paradise
“For those that love him;” passing bliss
“Which human eye or ear can scan,
Nor dwell they in the heart of man !”
April objects pleasing in themselves. Fresh Foliage. Larch, Thorn, Sycamore, Horse Chestnut, Lime, Alder, Birch, Elm, Beech
Of song, and flow'r, and bursting bough,
126
And show'rs and suns, in holt and heath,
Are opening. Fearful to sustain
Imperious March's rougher reign,
Thy softer wooing they obey,
Forerunner of the gentle May.
Hail, April! Lo, inspired by thee
Full many a lovely form I see
Its long lost garniture resume,
Of woodland leaf, and woodland bloom.
Full many a lovely form I see
Its long lost garniture resume,
Of woodland leaf, and woodland bloom.
No more with tassels here and there
Besprent, but in a vesture fair
The Larch to welcome thee is seen,
Unmingled, of the tenderest green.
Bright tints, to welcome thee, adorn
Of tenderest green the full-robed thorn.
Of broader lobes, and darker grain,
His leaves for thee the Maple-Plane
Develops from their crimson sheaths:
For thee his bright and twisted wreaths
Five-finger'd, like a giant's hand,
The Chestnut's lengthening shoots expand.
Fcrth from his coral's ruby holds
The Lime his pale green leaves unfolds.
The Alder through the wat'ry mead,
About the mountain's rocky head
The Birch for thee his leaves displays.
And Elm and spreading Beech arrays,
To grace thy course, a thickening skreen;
This his smooth plates of glossy sheen;
And, stateliest of the woodland realm,
His rougher leaves the blossom'd Elm.
Besprent, but in a vesture fair
The Larch to welcome thee is seen,
Unmingled, of the tenderest green.
Bright tints, to welcome thee, adorn
Of tenderest green the full-robed thorn.
Of broader lobes, and darker grain,
His leaves for thee the Maple-Plane
Develops from their crimson sheaths:
For thee his bright and twisted wreaths
Five-finger'd, like a giant's hand,
The Chestnut's lengthening shoots expand.
Fcrth from his coral's ruby holds
The Lime his pale green leaves unfolds.
The Alder through the wat'ry mead,
About the mountain's rocky head
The Birch for thee his leaves displays.
And Elm and spreading Beech arrays,
To grace thy course, a thickening skreen;
This his smooth plates of glossy sheen;
127
His rougher leaves the blossom'd Elm.
Fresh blossoms on trees. Aspen. Ash. Mountain Ash. Crab-Apple. Cherry. Pear. Beauty of wild Fruittrees
And, April, many a blossom'd tree
Besides appears to honour thee.
If dull to March's wooing, now
For thee the trembling Aspen's bough
Shows its long drops of scaly down,
White, but with rings of mottled brown.
For thee the Ash-tree's branches gray,
Whose lingering leaves crave longer stay,
Send now their flow'rs unshelter'd forth:
And, offspring of the hilly north,
The beauteous tree of mountain fame,
The Ash-tree's kinsman but in name,
For thee with winged leafits spread
Puts forth his blossoms' cluster'd head.
Besides appears to honour thee.
If dull to March's wooing, now
For thee the trembling Aspen's bough
Shows its long drops of scaly down,
White, but with rings of mottled brown.
For thee the Ash-tree's branches gray,
Whose lingering leaves crave longer stay,
Send now their flow'rs unshelter'd forth:
And, offspring of the hilly north,
The beauteous tree of mountain fame,
The Ash-tree's kinsman but in name,
For thee with winged leafits spread
Puts forth his blossoms' cluster'd head.
And wilding fruit-trees, such alone
As Britain's isles can boast their own,
Indigenous, of more delight
Ministrant to the curious sight,
Than grateful to the craving taste:
The Crab with virgin whiteness graced,
Ting'd with the rose's modest glow;
Of virgin whiteness, like the snow,
The cluster'd Cherry; and more rare,
Of rival white the blooming Pear:
More justly valued for their use,
For swelling pulp, for flowing juice,
But not in form, or native die,
Or texture, lovelier to the eye,
Where, nurs'd by man's improving care,
With Peach and Apricot they share,
And luscious Nectarine, the praise
To light the garden's vernal blaze;
Or claim, their undivided reign,
The blooming orchard's rich domain.
As Britain's isles can boast their own,
Indigenous, of more delight
Ministrant to the curious sight,
Than grateful to the craving taste:
The Crab with virgin whiteness graced,
Ting'd with the rose's modest glow;
Of virgin whiteness, like the snow,
The cluster'd Cherry; and more rare,
Of rival white the blooming Pear:
More justly valued for their use,
For swelling pulp, for flowing juice,
But not in form, or native die,
Or texture, lovelier to the eye,
128
With Peach and Apricot they share,
And luscious Nectarine, the praise
To light the garden's vernal blaze;
Or claim, their undivided reign,
The blooming orchard's rich domain.
Fresh Flowers. Cowslip. Broom. Ground-ivy. Periwinkle. Strawberry. Fritillary or Chequer'd Daffodill. Various other flowers
Nor, April, fail with scent and hue
To grace thee lowlier blossoms new.
Not only that, where weak and scant
Peep'd forth the early primrose plant,
Now shine profuse unnumber'd eyes,
Like stars that stud the wint'ry skies:
But that its sister Cowslips nigh,
With no unfriendly rivalry
Of form and tint and fragrant smells,
O'er the green fields their yellow bells
Unfold bedropt with tawny red,
And meekly bend the drooping head.
Not only that the fringed edge
Of heath, or bank, or pathway hedge
Glows with the furze's golden bloom:
But mingling now the verdant Broom,
With flow'rs of rival lustre deck'd,
Uplifts its shapelier form erect.
To grace thee lowlier blossoms new.
Not only that, where weak and scant
Peep'd forth the early primrose plant,
Now shine profuse unnumber'd eyes,
Like stars that stud the wint'ry skies:
But that its sister Cowslips nigh,
With no unfriendly rivalry
Of form and tint and fragrant smells,
O'er the green fields their yellow bells
Unfold bedropt with tawny red,
And meekly bend the drooping head.
Not only that the fringed edge
Of heath, or bank, or pathway hedge
Glows with the furze's golden bloom:
But mingling now the verdant Broom,
With flow'rs of rival lustre deck'd,
Uplifts its shapelier form erect.
And there, upon the sod below,
Ground-ivy's purple blossoms show,
Like helmet of crusader knight,
Its anthers' crosslike forms of white.
And lesser Periwinkle's bloom,
Like carpet of Damascus' loom,
Pranks with bright blue the tissue wove
Of verdant foliage: and above
With milkwhite flow'rs, whence soon shall swell
Red fruitage, to the taste and smell
Pleasant alike, the Strawberry weaves
Its coronets of threefold leaves
In mazes through the sloping wood.
Nor wants there, in her dreamy mood
What fancy's sportiveness may think
A cup, whence midnight elves might drink
Delicious drops of nectar'd dew,
While they their fairy sports pursue
And roundelays by fount or rill;
The streak'd and chequer'd Daffodill.
Ground-ivy's purple blossoms show,
Like helmet of crusader knight,
Its anthers' crosslike forms of white.
And lesser Periwinkle's bloom,
Like carpet of Damascus' loom,
129
Of verdant foliage: and above
With milkwhite flow'rs, whence soon shall swell
Red fruitage, to the taste and smell
Pleasant alike, the Strawberry weaves
Its coronets of threefold leaves
In mazes through the sloping wood.
Nor wants there, in her dreamy mood
What fancy's sportiveness may think
A cup, whence midnight elves might drink
Delicious drops of nectar'd dew,
While they their fairy sports pursue
And roundelays by fount or rill;
The streak'd and chequer'd Daffodill.
Nor wants there many a flow'r beside
On holt and heath and meadow pied:
With pale green bloom the upright Box;
And woodland Crowfoot's golden locks;
And yellow Cinquefoil's hairy trail;
And Saxifrage with petals pale;
And purple Bilberry's globelike head;
And Cranberry's bells of rosy red;
And creeping Gromwell blue and bright;
And Cranesbill's streaks of red and white,
Or purple with soft leaves of down;
And golden Tulip's turban'd crown
Sweet-scented on its bending stem;
And bright-eyed Star of Bethlehem;
With those, the firstlings of their kind,
Which through the bosky thickets wind
Their tendrils, vetch, or pea, or tare,
At random; and with many a pair
Of leafits green the brake embower,
And many a pendent painted flower.
On holt and heath and meadow pied:
With pale green bloom the upright Box;
And woodland Crowfoot's golden locks;
And yellow Cinquefoil's hairy trail;
And Saxifrage with petals pale;
And purple Bilberry's globelike head;
And Cranberry's bells of rosy red;
And creeping Gromwell blue and bright;
And Cranesbill's streaks of red and white,
Or purple with soft leaves of down;
And golden Tulip's turban'd crown
Sweet-scented on its bending stem;
And bright-eyed Star of Bethlehem;
With those, the firstlings of their kind,
Which through the bosky thickets wind
Their tendrils, vetch, or pea, or tare,
At random; and with many a pair
130
And many a pendent painted flower.
Fresh birds. Swallow tribe more numerous. Swift. Short-winged birds. White Throat. Redstart. Woodwren. Grass-hopper-Warbler. Yellow Wagtail. Turtledove. Cuckoo
Responsive, countless forms the while
Of animated life obey
The summons of thy gentle sway.
If uncongenial blasts before
Have stay'd their passage to our shore,
Now wafted, gentler month, by thee
O'er midland or Atlantick sea,
The threefold tribes of Swallows haste,
In thy first days, or ere to waste
Thy midmost course has run. Nor fails
He of the pinion's broadest sails
To track their path, their brother Swift.
But tho' to brave the stormy drift
Be his the pinions' amplest spread,
And his with fleetest action sped
The airy flight; more late to come,
More prompt to quit his summer home,
Is he of all the fork-tail'd race:
As if his wint'ry dwelling-place,
Hard by the Stormy Cape, or far
In regions of the eastern star,
Forbade across the tedious way
Or quick approach or lengthen'd stay.
Nor, April, dost thou fail to bring
To greet thee birds of shorter wing,
Infirm of flight; yet such as trill
Melodious from their tender bill
Sweet musick. If the White-throat's lay,
Flitting from hedgerow spray to spray,
Or gently mounting through the air,
To mark his bosom silvery fair
Invite us:—or from loftiest tree
With brisk unwearied melody,
Of sable breast and snowy head
And quivering tail of crimson red,
The slumbering morn the Redstart wakes:—
Or 'mid the groves and tangled brakes
The Wood-wren from his yellow throat
Chants forth his sharp and shivering note,
Peculiar:—or his whisper'd song
That warbler, olive brown, among
Thicket, or furze, or sheltering grass;
While untaught peasants, as they pass,
Deem the loud whisper of his bill
Is but the cricket's chirrup shrill.
To greet thee birds of shorter wing,
131
Melodious from their tender bill
Sweet musick. If the White-throat's lay,
Flitting from hedgerow spray to spray,
Or gently mounting through the air,
To mark his bosom silvery fair
Invite us:—or from loftiest tree
With brisk unwearied melody,
Of sable breast and snowy head
And quivering tail of crimson red,
The slumbering morn the Redstart wakes:—
Or 'mid the groves and tangled brakes
The Wood-wren from his yellow throat
Chants forth his sharp and shivering note,
Peculiar:—or his whisper'd song
That warbler, olive brown, among
Thicket, or furze, or sheltering grass;
While untaught peasants, as they pass,
Deem the loud whisper of his bill
Is but the cricket's chirrup shrill.
Nor, April, think I scorn to see
On newturn'd tilth, or upland lea,
Tho' thin and weak her pow'r of song,
Tripping the nibbling flocks among,
Or hunting brisk from ridge to ridge
The worm minute or lurking midge,
With sulphur breast, and olive wing,
The pretty Shepherdess of Spring;—
Or in the shelter'd solitudes
Of southern England's sprouting woods,
Hear with his soft repeated coo
His mate the gentle Turtle woo:—
Or catch on some sunshiny day
“The plainsong of the Cuckoo gray ,”
Resounding from his shallow bill
With cry monotonous, and still
Repeated; but though rude and dull
Of sound, of pleasing thoughts is full
“The plainsong” of that shallow bird,
Then first amid the flushing heard
Of vernal beauty, at the time
When the young year is in its prime;
And, ere that prime be overcast,
The Cuckoo's homely song is past.
On newturn'd tilth, or upland lea,
Tho' thin and weak her pow'r of song,
Tripping the nibbling flocks among,
Or hunting brisk from ridge to ridge
The worm minute or lurking midge,
With sulphur breast, and olive wing,
The pretty Shepherdess of Spring;—
Or in the shelter'd solitudes
Of southern England's sprouting woods,
Hear with his soft repeated coo
His mate the gentle Turtle woo:—
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“The plainsong of the Cuckoo gray ,”
Resounding from his shallow bill
With cry monotonous, and still
Repeated; but though rude and dull
Of sound, of pleasing thoughts is full
“The plainsong” of that shallow bird,
Then first amid the flushing heard
Of vernal beauty, at the time
When the young year is in its prime;
And, ere that prime be overcast,
The Cuckoo's homely song is past.
Nightingale. Southampton, Bagley Wood, East Horsley. Limits of the nightingale. Favourite of poets. Chaucer. Bishop Heber. Beauty of its song. Song-birds a sign of divine benevolence. Gratitude due in return. Sentiment of Izaak Walton
But what's the song, which gives the zest
To thee, the sweetest and the best,
Spring's opening season? Which delights
With liquid lay thy vernal nights,
And summer's, on my native shores,
Where Itchin, gentle river, pours
His tribute with the inswelling tide
To mingle; and his western side
My own Southampton's spires adorn,
Loveliest of towns; and onward borne
In that bright bay the admiring sight
Rejoices, and the hills of Wight,
And Netley's abbey-hallow'd nook,
And castled cape of Carisbrook,
And that famed Forest's broad array
Of umbrage by that lucid bay?
To thee, the sweetest and the best,
Spring's opening season? Which delights
With liquid lay thy vernal nights,
And summer's, on my native shores,
Where Itchin, gentle river, pours
His tribute with the inswelling tide
To mingle; and his western side
My own Southampton's spires adorn,
Loveliest of towns; and onward borne
In that bright bay the admiring sight
Rejoices, and the hills of Wight,
And Netley's abbey-hallow'd nook,
And castled cape of Carisbrook,
And that famed Forest's broad array
Of umbrage by that lucid bay?
Sweet to the eye is that bright bay;
Sweet to the ear that liquid lay,
Now warbled in my native coasts:
Or in the glades, where Bagley boasts
His site by Oxford's classick bowers,
My mother Oxford's Gothick towers,
And spires, and domes, and glistening vanes:
Or in green Horsley's hazel lanes,
My sojourn once; nor fairer scene
Surrey 'mong all her copses green
Can vaunt of, and her cowslip fields!
That liquid lay no dingle yields
Northward or west. Nor rugged Wales
In her deep nooks the wanderer hails;
Nor Scotia in the briery brakes
That shade her dells, and bourns, and lakes;
Nor Erin on her emerald hills,
Nor Cumbria's meres and mountain rills,
Nor Devon's genial groves. Alone
Of Britain's islands, for thine own
'Tis thine, lov'd England, where is strew'd
By flowery meads the good green wood,
In midland or in southern vale,
To claim the peerless Nightingale!
Sweet to the ear that liquid lay,
133
Or in the glades, where Bagley boasts
His site by Oxford's classick bowers,
My mother Oxford's Gothick towers,
And spires, and domes, and glistening vanes:
Or in green Horsley's hazel lanes,
My sojourn once; nor fairer scene
Surrey 'mong all her copses green
Can vaunt of, and her cowslip fields!
That liquid lay no dingle yields
Northward or west. Nor rugged Wales
In her deep nooks the wanderer hails;
Nor Scotia in the briery brakes
That shade her dells, and bourns, and lakes;
Nor Erin on her emerald hills,
Nor Cumbria's meres and mountain rills,
Nor Devon's genial groves. Alone
Of Britain's islands, for thine own
'Tis thine, lov'd England, where is strew'd
By flowery meads the good green wood,
In midland or in southern vale,
To claim the peerless Nightingale!
Theme of thy bards! From him who drew
At Arno's fount the inspiring dew,
And bath'd thy yet uncultur'd wild,
“Pure well of English undefil'd :”
To him, who late from Gunga's side
Far o'er the world of waters wide
Thought on his pleasant native land;
And, pilgrim on a distant strand,
Half breath'd a pray'r, but breath'd in vain,
To see his well-lov'd oaks again,
And near the grave's expecting verge
Sang, swan-like, his funereal dirge,
Prelate and Bard !—And who, with ear
The concert of sweet sounds to hear,
Feels not the soul-intrancing swell,
Like him, of lovely Philomel;
As in the still and silent eve
Preluding he begins to weave
The tissue of his silver song:
Then with brief pauses all night long
Ascending now, and now descending,
The scatter'd links of sweetness blending,
From note to note harmonious changing,
Through every maze of musick ranging,
Again commences, and again,
No plaintive melancholy strain
Of frustrate hopes, but fills the grove
With descant of enraptur'd love.
At Arno's fount the inspiring dew,
And bath'd thy yet uncultur'd wild,
“Pure well of English undefil'd :”
To him, who late from Gunga's side
Far o'er the world of waters wide
Thought on his pleasant native land;
And, pilgrim on a distant strand,
134
To see his well-lov'd oaks again,
And near the grave's expecting verge
Sang, swan-like, his funereal dirge,
Prelate and Bard !—And who, with ear
The concert of sweet sounds to hear,
Feels not the soul-intrancing swell,
Like him, of lovely Philomel;
As in the still and silent eve
Preluding he begins to weave
The tissue of his silver song:
Then with brief pauses all night long
Ascending now, and now descending,
The scatter'd links of sweetness blending,
From note to note harmonious changing,
Through every maze of musick ranging,
Again commences, and again,
No plaintive melancholy strain
Of frustrate hopes, but fills the grove
With descant of enraptur'd love.
How full is Providence's plan
Of joy gratuitous to man!
These little birds, that wing the air
Through the blithe spring, and seek their fare,
Reptile and burrowing fly, that lurk
In the fresh plant, and else would work
Death to the cornfield's sprouting root,
And blooming garden's embryo fruit:
How might they through the orchard fly
And sprouting field; in silence ply
The intrusted task; nor breathe a note
Of rapture from their tuneless throat!
Of joy gratuitous to man!
These little birds, that wing the air
Through the blithe spring, and seek their fare,
Reptile and burrowing fly, that lurk
In the fresh plant, and else would work
Death to the cornfield's sprouting root,
And blooming garden's embryo fruit:
How might they through the orchard fly
And sprouting field; in silence ply
135
Of rapture from their tuneless throat!
But He, who these his creatures sends,
Our little help meets, kindly blends
Delight with our substantial good:
And we, as through the good green wood
We wander in the pleasant spring,
And hear them “in the branches sing ,”
Behoves us then to Him to raise
A heartfelt thought of grateful praise,
Who bids their little hearts rejoice,
And gives us through their tuneful voice
A portion of their joy to feel!
And thence a pleasing thought may steal
O'er the calm heart with heavenward aim,
Like that old man's of angling fame,
Who courted rural nature's love
On the wild banks of lonely Dove,
Or sought beside Lea's “crystal stream
In pleasant meads to solace him.”
Then oft, as from the midnight hill,
When every village sound was still,
And safely slept the weary swains,
The Nightingale's loud liquid strains
Breath'd from her little throat he caught,
Devotion wak'd the aspiring thought:
“Lord, if such musick thou bestow
On bad men in this world of woe,
Thy saints—what musick shall they prove
Before thee in thy realm of love!”
Our little help meets, kindly blends
Delight with our substantial good:
And we, as through the good green wood
We wander in the pleasant spring,
And hear them “in the branches sing ,”
Behoves us then to Him to raise
A heartfelt thought of grateful praise,
Who bids their little hearts rejoice,
And gives us through their tuneful voice
A portion of their joy to feel!
And thence a pleasing thought may steal
O'er the calm heart with heavenward aim,
Like that old man's of angling fame,
Who courted rural nature's love
On the wild banks of lonely Dove,
Or sought beside Lea's “crystal stream
In pleasant meads to solace him.”
Then oft, as from the midnight hill,
When every village sound was still,
And safely slept the weary swains,
The Nightingale's loud liquid strains
Breath'd from her little throat he caught,
Devotion wak'd the aspiring thought:
“Lord, if such musick thou bestow
On bad men in this world of woe,
Thy saints—what musick shall they prove
Before thee in thy realm of love!”
136
General activity in nest building. Variety of materials. Diversity of situations. Different modes of building. Skill unrivalled by man. Altogether instructive
There's bustle now throughout the air:
For little forms are busy there
In social flight; and to and fro
Still on unwearied wing they go,
Ere from the east the orient ray
Streak with faint light the morning gray,
Till fading in the opposing west
It warn them to their evening rest,
The nuptial pairs! for them, whom first
Hath this their native climate nurst,
And their perennial home supplied,
Or the recurring vernal tide
Invites from distant climes to come,
And seek with us their summer home,
Indigenous; the genial hour,
Alike with unresisted power,
Now 'mid their native fields and groves
Excites to prosecute their loves,
And, where their earliest breath they drew,
The fortunes of their race renew.
For little forms are busy there
In social flight; and to and fro
Still on unwearied wing they go,
Ere from the east the orient ray
Streak with faint light the morning gray,
Till fading in the opposing west
It warn them to their evening rest,
The nuptial pairs! for them, whom first
Hath this their native climate nurst,
And their perennial home supplied,
Or the recurring vernal tide
Invites from distant climes to come,
And seek with us their summer home,
Indigenous; the genial hour,
Alike with unresisted power,
Now 'mid their native fields and groves
Excites to prosecute their loves,
And, where their earliest breath they drew,
The fortunes of their race renew.
And so 'tis bustle all, nor rest
Nor respite; for the purpos'd nest
Till by instinctive skill are sought
Materials rude and quaint, and brought
Each to the appropriate place, as each
The general laws of nature teach:
The general laws, to all as known
In common, and to each its own.
Whate'er on earth's broad bosom lies,
Or on the passing breezes flies,
May serve their urgent need, they catch
And bear abrupt away: from thatch
Of cottage roof, or haystack, draw
The loosen'd hay, or dangling straw;
Or with keen glance inquiring peep,
And from the rich manuring heap
Take of its matted stores; or cull
The wiry hair, or softer wool,
Of horse or fleecy sheep; and now
Twigs from the dry and sapless bough,
Now tufts of cottony down combine,
Or of the spider's filmy line;
Or fibrous root, or grassy bent,
Or feathery catkin, with cement
Compos'd of neatly moulded clay:
Now the green moss, or lichen gray,
Or leaves, whose gather'd heaps imbed
The woodland's shady depth, or shred,
Paper, or wood; and oft a plume,
Perhaps their own, the narrow room
Their nestling's future house to form,
Without, within, compact and warm.
Nor respite; for the purpos'd nest
Till by instinctive skill are sought
Materials rude and quaint, and brought
Each to the appropriate place, as each
The general laws of nature teach:
The general laws, to all as known
In common, and to each its own.
Whate'er on earth's broad bosom lies,
Or on the passing breezes flies,
May serve their urgent need, they catch
And bear abrupt away: from thatch
137
The loosen'd hay, or dangling straw;
Or with keen glance inquiring peep,
And from the rich manuring heap
Take of its matted stores; or cull
The wiry hair, or softer wool,
Of horse or fleecy sheep; and now
Twigs from the dry and sapless bough,
Now tufts of cottony down combine,
Or of the spider's filmy line;
Or fibrous root, or grassy bent,
Or feathery catkin, with cement
Compos'd of neatly moulded clay:
Now the green moss, or lichen gray,
Or leaves, whose gather'd heaps imbed
The woodland's shady depth, or shred,
Paper, or wood; and oft a plume,
Perhaps their own, the narrow room
Their nestling's future house to form,
Without, within, compact and warm.
Nor less diversified in place,
The dwellings for their future race
The various kinds are planning. These
Choose the deep shade of forest trees,
Or lowlier shrub, or on the edge
Of cultur'd field the platted hedge,
Orchard or garden, by the leaves
Fresh-spreading shelter'd: those the eaves
Projecting of man's friendly roof
In populous city, or aloof
In rural hamlet's dwellings rude,
Or in the grange's solitude,
Window or rafter'd beam select.
For some suffices to protect
Their lurking place in mouldering wall
Or bank, where ever bubbling fall
The runnels of the living brook,
Or refuse heap, a hollow nook.
Those the green lands, and grassy leas,
And pastures by the waters please:
These the wild mountain's lone recess,
Or dwellings of the wilderness
Secluded; where they shroud alone,
Beside some bare o'ermantling stone
From storm defended, or within
The bowery heath or prickly whin:
These the old Baron's feudal fort
Dismantled, or the cloyster'd court
Of ruin'd abbey; while the boughs,
Where the rude sounds of wild carouse
Once echoed, or the cloisters dim
Return'd the chant or measur'd hymn,
Now circle through the lonely grove,
The thrilling notes of joyous love,
Or what to pensive ear the tone
May seem of grateful orison.
The dwellings for their future race
The various kinds are planning. These
Choose the deep shade of forest trees,
Or lowlier shrub, or on the edge
Of cultur'd field the platted hedge,
Orchard or garden, by the leaves
Fresh-spreading shelter'd: those the eaves
Projecting of man's friendly roof
In populous city, or aloof
In rural hamlet's dwellings rude,
Or in the grange's solitude,
138
For some suffices to protect
Their lurking place in mouldering wall
Or bank, where ever bubbling fall
The runnels of the living brook,
Or refuse heap, a hollow nook.
Those the green lands, and grassy leas,
And pastures by the waters please:
These the wild mountain's lone recess,
Or dwellings of the wilderness
Secluded; where they shroud alone,
Beside some bare o'ermantling stone
From storm defended, or within
The bowery heath or prickly whin:
These the old Baron's feudal fort
Dismantled, or the cloyster'd court
Of ruin'd abbey; while the boughs,
Where the rude sounds of wild carouse
Once echoed, or the cloisters dim
Return'd the chant or measur'd hymn,
Now circle through the lonely grove,
The thrilling notes of joyous love,
Or what to pensive ear the tone
May seem of grateful orison.
And then what strangely varied skill
Is prompt of each the instinctive will
To execute by diverse ways
Of combination, so to raise
A structure, for the wants design'd
And comfort of each varying kind!
To twine the twisted nest; to plat,
To braid, to weave; with felted mat
The fabrick of the house to line;
Firm on the ground to plant; to mine
The hollow earth beneath; on high
Wreath'd in the leafy canopy
To hang the floating ark; a hole
Drill'd in the perforated bole
To hew with griding bill; or spread
The level platform; or on shed
Of roof or jutting coign suspend
The plaster'd nest, and round it bend
A circling fence, or penthouse dome
Above, to shield the nursling's home!
Such skill is theirs, with wisdom fraught,
By the Great Source of wisdom taught.
And if, as fabling bards have said,
'Twere truth that man, or ere he spread
His canvass to the driving gale,
Learn'd of the nautilus to sail;
'Twere with like show of reason told,
That, ere the world and time were old,
Man, in the arts of life unskill'd,
Learn'd of the little birds to build,
To weave the twisted wreath, and twine
In banded plats the braided line.
Is prompt of each the instinctive will
To execute by diverse ways
Of combination, so to raise
A structure, for the wants design'd
And comfort of each varying kind!
To twine the twisted nest; to plat,
To braid, to weave; with felted mat
139
Firm on the ground to plant; to mine
The hollow earth beneath; on high
Wreath'd in the leafy canopy
To hang the floating ark; a hole
Drill'd in the perforated bole
To hew with griding bill; or spread
The level platform; or on shed
Of roof or jutting coign suspend
The plaster'd nest, and round it bend
A circling fence, or penthouse dome
Above, to shield the nursling's home!
Such skill is theirs, with wisdom fraught,
By the Great Source of wisdom taught.
And if, as fabling bards have said,
'Twere truth that man, or ere he spread
His canvass to the driving gale,
Learn'd of the nautilus to sail;
'Twere with like show of reason told,
That, ere the world and time were old,
Man, in the arts of life unskill'd,
Learn'd of the little birds to build,
To weave the twisted wreath, and twine
In banded plats the braided line.
Not so I deem. But who will scan
Their handy work, may doubt if man,
Form'd tho' he be this world to rule,
And in experience' antique school
Improv'd, with science' ample fruit,
Means and appliances to boot,
Can emulate the instinctive skill,
Which with the bended claw, and bill
Acute, and round and moulding breast,
Constructs the feather'd warbler's nest.
Their handy work, may doubt if man,
Form'd tho' he be this world to rule,
And in experience' antique school
Improv'd, with science' ample fruit,
Means and appliances to boot,
Can emulate the instinctive skill,
Which with the bended claw, and bill
140
Constructs the feather'd warbler's nest.
But that instinctive skill, howe'er
By nature's voice distinct and clear
Instructed; from the tract of age,
Experience, observation sage,
Derives no modulating force,
No wise improvement: but the course,
Pursued of old, they still pursue,
And know but what of old they knew;
What time the raven and the dove
Went forth from Noah's hand to prove
The land disburden'd of the sea:
Or in the world's first infancy
Each bird, according to his kind,
Stoop'd on the wing to hear assign'd
Its name by men's forefather given;
Or listen'd to the voice from heaven,
Which bade it in heaven's face to fly,
And o'er the broad earth multiply
Its proper brood. The high behest,
Which then to form the appropriate nest
Inspir'd them, still its sway maintains;
Still in each untaught bosom reigns;
And with the nest, the feather'd tribes
Their nestling place and time prescribes;
Their eggs, for number, shape, and size
Distinct, and variegated dies;
And what the form and plumed grace
Transmissive of each future race.
By nature's voice distinct and clear
Instructed; from the tract of age,
Experience, observation sage,
Derives no modulating force,
No wise improvement: but the course,
Pursued of old, they still pursue,
And know but what of old they knew;
What time the raven and the dove
Went forth from Noah's hand to prove
The land disburden'd of the sea:
Or in the world's first infancy
Each bird, according to his kind,
Stoop'd on the wing to hear assign'd
Its name by men's forefather given;
Or listen'd to the voice from heaven,
Which bade it in heaven's face to fly,
And o'er the broad earth multiply
Its proper brood. The high behest,
Which then to form the appropriate nest
Inspir'd them, still its sway maintains;
Still in each untaught bosom reigns;
And with the nest, the feather'd tribes
Their nestling place and time prescribes;
Their eggs, for number, shape, and size
Distinct, and variegated dies;
And what the form and plumed grace
Transmissive of each future race.
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Examples of building. Nests near human habitations. Plea for forbearance towards them. Humanity injoined. The divine Law
Come, let us walk abroad, and see
Amus'd with what variety
The little architects their work
Have plann'd; while some already lurk
In covert o'er their procreant bed
Close brooding; some the unform'd shed
Now but prepare, less prompt to ply
The housewife's duty, till the sky
More genial and the swelling spray
Disclos'd forbid prolong'd delay.
Amus'd with what variety
The little architects their work
Have plann'd; while some already lurk
In covert o'er their procreant bed
Close brooding; some the unform'd shed
Now but prepare, less prompt to ply
The housewife's duty, till the sky
More genial and the swelling spray
Disclos'd forbid prolong'd delay.
Nor far afield in search to roam
Behoves thee; if about thy home
Tall tree, or shrub, or budding hedge,
Or hollow nook, or jutting ledge,
Meet nestling place afford; and thou
Free nature's denizens allow
To dwell uninjur'd, nor molest
The fortunes of the rising nest.
For us'd to men, and human haunts
And actions, if no terror daunts
And drives them from their place preferr'd,
Full many a sociable bird
Forgets the wildness of his race,
At least foregoes it; and the place
Of man's abode not his alone
Esteems, but chooses for its own.
Behoves thee; if about thy home
Tall tree, or shrub, or budding hedge,
Or hollow nook, or jutting ledge,
Meet nestling place afford; and thou
Free nature's denizens allow
To dwell uninjur'd, nor molest
The fortunes of the rising nest.
For us'd to men, and human haunts
And actions, if no terror daunts
And drives them from their place preferr'd,
Full many a sociable bird
Forgets the wildness of his race,
At least foregoes it; and the place
Of man's abode not his alone
Esteems, but chooses for its own.
Molest them not! the vernal bloom
If chance the prying bill consume,
The ill o'erlook'd they'll more than buy
The indulgence with the snail or fly
Excluded:—if the ripening fruit
Perchance their curious palate suit,
To the pleas'd ear they more than pay
Its value with the tuneful lay.
And if at times 'tis haply true,
That mischief more than good they do,
Still does not the considerate mind
And gentle feel a joy refin'd,
A sort of heavenly joy, to see
God's creatures round about us free
From harm, rejoicing as they can
In their brief life's precarious span?
And would we not desire to know,
Or wish we rather to forego
Such joy if purchas'd at the price
Of some poor trivial sacrifice?
If chance the prying bill consume,
The ill o'erlook'd they'll more than buy
The indulgence with the snail or fly
Excluded:—if the ripening fruit
Perchance their curious palate suit,
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Its value with the tuneful lay.
And if at times 'tis haply true,
That mischief more than good they do,
Still does not the considerate mind
And gentle feel a joy refin'd,
A sort of heavenly joy, to see
God's creatures round about us free
From harm, rejoicing as they can
In their brief life's precarious span?
And would we not desire to know,
Or wish we rather to forego
Such joy if purchas'd at the price
Of some poor trivial sacrifice?
Then hold, nor thoughtlessly molest,
Or wantonly, the brooding nest!
But if occasion to displace
Constrain you some o'erwhelming race;—
For some there are whose presence breeds
Superior damage, and exceeds
Their just degree; and where, to ours
Oppos'd, their good with rival powers
Conflicting vies, we deem that they
Must bend to man's imperial sway,
Whom the Great God, that all things made,
With right and pow'r o'er all array'd:—
Against a race on mischief bent
If sad occasion prompt the intent
Corrective, monish'd by his law,
From whom your right, your pow'r you draw,
Life, breath, and all things; ah! refuse
Beyond the occasion's call to use
The sway entrusted; and if need
Have 'gainst the “eggs or young” decreed
Destruction, list to mercy's claim,
“Nor with the brood destroy the dam !”
Or wantonly, the brooding nest!
But if occasion to displace
Constrain you some o'erwhelming race;—
For some there are whose presence breeds
Superior damage, and exceeds
Their just degree; and where, to ours
Oppos'd, their good with rival powers
Conflicting vies, we deem that they
Must bend to man's imperial sway,
Whom the Great God, that all things made,
With right and pow'r o'er all array'd:—
Against a race on mischief bent
If sad occasion prompt the intent
Corrective, monish'd by his law,
From whom your right, your pow'r you draw,
Life, breath, and all things; ah! refuse
Beyond the occasion's call to use
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Have 'gainst the “eggs or young” decreed
Destruction, list to mercy's claim,
“Nor with the brood destroy the dam !”
Different sorts of Thrush sitting. Chaffinch, Sparrow, Blackcap. Yellow Bunting. Hedge-sparrow. Goldcrested Wren. Kitty Wren. Green bird. Ox-eye Tit. Linnet. Bull-finch. Redbreast. Singular situation of a Redbreast's nest
And see the Blackbird and the Thrush,
Our inmates in the lowly bush:
And nestling in the lofty tree
The Missel-bird our inmate see.
Already may the curious eye
Aslant their patient forms descry
Close cowering: let the passing glance
Suffice thee; nor with rash advance,
Or motion of the extended arm,
The mother from her charge alarm;
The shelter of her pent-house wings
While o'er the pregnant eggs she flings,
As yet with motion unendued;
Or nestles o'er the callow brood,
And fosters the now lively nest
With fervour of the beating breast.
Our inmates in the lowly bush:
And nestling in the lofty tree
The Missel-bird our inmate see.
Already may the curious eye
Aslant their patient forms descry
Close cowering: let the passing glance
Suffice thee; nor with rash advance,
Or motion of the extended arm,
The mother from her charge alarm;
The shelter of her pent-house wings
While o'er the pregnant eggs she flings,
As yet with motion unendued;
Or nestles o'er the callow brood,
And fosters the now lively nest
With fervour of the beating breast.
Here on the lawn, in laurustine
Or holly see the Chaffinch twine
With hair his moss-wove home compact.
There with like zeal, but less exact
Of skill, the intrusive Sparrow weaves
His in the spout or jutting eaves.
Or holly see the Chaffinch twine
With hair his moss-wove home compact.
There with like zeal, but less exact
Of skill, the intrusive Sparrow weaves
His in the spout or jutting eaves.
There 'mid the fruit-trees' blooming bowers,
Where now the warm prolifick hours
Tempt him the ivy buds to quit,
And through the flowery orchard flit,
Or garden, for his filmy prey
Enliven'd by the sunny ray,
The Blackcap see! And now with trill
Of wild note from his mellow bill
He cheers, and now with gnat or fly,
Caught sporting in the azure sky,
Attent his brooding consort feeds:
And, as the nestling task proceeds,
Oft may you mark his sable crown
Exchang'd for her's of russet brown.
Where now the warm prolifick hours
Tempt him the ivy buds to quit,
And through the flowery orchard flit,
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Enliven'd by the sunny ray,
The Blackcap see! And now with trill
Of wild note from his mellow bill
He cheers, and now with gnat or fly,
Caught sporting in the azure sky,
Attent his brooding consort feeds:
And, as the nestling task proceeds,
Oft may you mark his sable crown
Exchang'd for her's of russet brown.
Low in the garden's thorny bound,
Or under, on the shelving mound
'Mid waving bent-grass, or the bloom
Of blossom'd furze, her humble home
The Yellow Bunting plants. And she,
Reft of her early progeny
By thoughtless sport, again prepares
Her simple nest and household cares,
The Hedgerow Chanter. And above,
In shelter of the fir-tree grove,
Where the broad bough its shadow lends,
Her home the Golden Wren suspends.
Nor does her duskier kinsman fly
Aloof from man's society;
The streamlet's overarching bank,
Beset with grass and mosses dank,
For the broad cedar's arm, or fir
Wide-spread, or spiral juniper,
Exchanging; or the hawthorn spray,
Or strawroof'd thatch of treasur'd hay,
Or out-house eave, or ivied wall,
Resounding his blythe madrigal.
Or under, on the shelving mound
'Mid waving bent-grass, or the bloom
Of blossom'd furze, her humble home
The Yellow Bunting plants. And she,
Reft of her early progeny
By thoughtless sport, again prepares
Her simple nest and household cares,
The Hedgerow Chanter. And above,
In shelter of the fir-tree grove,
Where the broad bough its shadow lends,
Her home the Golden Wren suspends.
Nor does her duskier kinsman fly
Aloof from man's society;
The streamlet's overarching bank,
Beset with grass and mosses dank,
For the broad cedar's arm, or fir
Wide-spread, or spiral juniper,
Exchanging; or the hawthorn spray,
Or strawroof'd thatch of treasur'd hay,
Or out-house eave, or ivied wall,
Resounding his blythe madrigal.
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A cradle for the Greenbird's bed,
And bowery covert o'er her head,
The forked pine supplies. A hole
In wall, or tree's decaying bole,
The Oxeye's artless nest receives.
With thickening shroud of sprouting leaves
The quickset hawthorn's prickly spines,
Or gooseberry's, where the Linnet twines
His house compact, or cove within
The shrubby and close-cluster'd whin,
'Gainst eye or hand a shelter throw
And barrier from invading foe.
And bowery covert o'er her head,
The forked pine supplies. A hole
In wall, or tree's decaying bole,
The Oxeye's artless nest receives.
With thickening shroud of sprouting leaves
The quickset hawthorn's prickly spines,
Or gooseberry's, where the Linnet twines
His house compact, or cove within
The shrubby and close-cluster'd whin,
'Gainst eye or hand a shelter throw
And barrier from invading foe.
Deep in the thorn's intangled maze,
Or where the fruit-tree's thickening sprays
Yield a secure and close retreat,
The dusky Bullfinch plans her seat.
There, where you see the cluster'd boughs
Put forth the opening bud, her spouse
With mantle gray, and jet-like head,
And flaming breast of crimson red,
Is perch'd with hard and hawk-like beak
Intent the embryo fruit to seek.
Nor ceases from his pleasing toil,
The orchard's budding hope to spoil,
Unless with quick and timid glance
Of his dark eye your dread advance
He notice, and your search evade,
Hid in the thicket's pathless shade.
Or where the fruit-tree's thickening sprays
Yield a secure and close retreat,
The dusky Bullfinch plans her seat.
There, where you see the cluster'd boughs
Put forth the opening bud, her spouse
With mantle gray, and jet-like head,
And flaming breast of crimson red,
Is perch'd with hard and hawk-like beak
Intent the embryo fruit to seek.
Nor ceases from his pleasing toil,
The orchard's budding hope to spoil,
Unless with quick and timid glance
Of his dark eye your dread advance
He notice, and your search evade,
Hid in the thicket's pathless shade.
But most of all to haunts of men
Familiar, though to savage glen
And woodland wild he oft may roam
Secluded, oft his wintry home
No less the Redbreast makes his bower
For nestling in the vernal hour;
In thatch, or root of aged tree
Moss-grown, or arching cavity
Of bank, or garden's refuse heap,
Or where the broad-leav'd tendrils creep
Of ivy, and an arbour spread
O'er trellis'd porch or cottage shed.
Familiar, though to savage glen
And woodland wild he oft may roam
Secluded, oft his wintry home
146
For nestling in the vernal hour;
In thatch, or root of aged tree
Moss-grown, or arching cavity
Of bank, or garden's refuse heap,
Or where the broad-leav'd tendrils creep
Of ivy, and an arbour spread
O'er trellis'd porch or cottage shed.
Lo! as we pass the homestead round,
At every change of place the sound
Of Robin's voice salutes the ear,
Carolling to his partner near;
And with nice gaze th' observant eye
May Robin's hidden home descry.
And memory now recalls the sight,
'Twas where from Lansdown's chalky height
A pleasant garden-house looks down
On Bladud's old romantick town,
And pinnacled and towered fane,
And the slow Avon's sinuous train,
And Claverton's opposing hill;
There on my trellis'd window-sill,
Where climbing evergreens display'd
An arching and a bowery shade,
The Redbreast fearlessly had spread
'Mid scatter'd leaves her shelter'd bed
Of feathers, moss, and woven hair;
And nestled unmolested there
By passing steps, and labourer's din
Without, or watchful eyes within.
At every change of place the sound
Of Robin's voice salutes the ear,
Carolling to his partner near;
And with nice gaze th' observant eye
May Robin's hidden home descry.
And memory now recalls the sight,
'Twas where from Lansdown's chalky height
A pleasant garden-house looks down
On Bladud's old romantick town,
And pinnacled and towered fane,
And the slow Avon's sinuous train,
And Claverton's opposing hill;
There on my trellis'd window-sill,
Where climbing evergreens display'd
An arching and a bowery shade,
The Redbreast fearlessly had spread
'Mid scatter'd leaves her shelter'd bed
Of feathers, moss, and woven hair;
And nestled unmolested there
By passing steps, and labourer's din
Without, or watchful eyes within.
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Address to the bird
Yes, 'mid the dark-green ivy twine,
Couch'd in the trellis'd eglantine,
We mark'd that tiny form of thine,
The spring's sweet tide;
We mark'd thee weave thy mossy nest,
And in its hair-lined covert rest
Thy russet wings and ruddy breast
Our home beside.
Couch'd in the trellis'd eglantine,
We mark'd that tiny form of thine,
The spring's sweet tide;
We mark'd thee weave thy mossy nest,
And in its hair-lined covert rest
Thy russet wings and ruddy breast
Our home beside.
Close didst thou sit: but we might spy
The sparkle of thy quick dark eye,
As if some reckless foe were by,
That mischief stirr'd.
Sit on! away we would not bear
Those freckled balls, thy anxious care;
Nor of thy plumes a feather mar,
Thou social bird!
The sparkle of thy quick dark eye,
As if some reckless foe were by,
That mischief stirr'd.
Sit on! away we would not bear
Those freckled balls, thy anxious care;
Nor of thy plumes a feather mar,
Thou social bird!
Sit on, and keep thy leafy bed,
Secure in thy secluded shed,
Till forth thy spotted brood be led
Yon shrubs among:
When autumn chills the silent day,
Perch'd on the hawthorn's leafless spray
They shall their guardian's care repay
With a sweet song.
Secure in thy secluded shed,
Till forth thy spotted brood be led
Yon shrubs among:
When autumn chills the silent day,
Perch'd on the hawthorn's leafless spray
They shall their guardian's care repay
With a sweet song.
Sweet is thy song from vernal tree,
Though noticed less amid the glee,
Which swells in general harmony
Each tuneful throat;
More valued, when its warbles cheer
The gloom of the departing year,
And pour into the pensive ear
Their lonely note.
Though noticed less amid the glee,
Which swells in general harmony
Each tuneful throat;
148
The gloom of the departing year,
And pour into the pensive ear
Their lonely note.
That lonely note may wisdom preach!
To the lorn mourner it may teach,
'Mid saddest scenes within our reach
Some joys remain;
A pledge no less, though winter's wing
Obscure our path, another spring
Shall come, and all things laugh and sing
With mirth again.
To the lorn mourner it may teach,
'Mid saddest scenes within our reach
Some joys remain;
A pledge no less, though winter's wing
Obscure our path, another spring
Shall come, and all things laugh and sing
With mirth again.
Then welcome to my window-sill,
Garden, or root-house, as thy will
May lead thee, social warbler, still
By man belov'd!
Home in my homestead may'st thou find;
And give in turn thy greeting kind,
Sweet to the sense, and by the mind
Not unimprov'd!
Garden, or root-house, as thy will
May lead thee, social warbler, still
By man belov'd!
Home in my homestead may'st thou find;
And give in turn thy greeting kind,
Sweet to the sense, and by the mind
Not unimprov'd!
Numberless kinds of nestling birds in April. Examples of more retired kinds. Nightingale. Dipper. Kingfisher. Stonechat. Whinchat. Cushat and Turtle Dove. Heron. Bittern. Willock and Razor-bill Auk. Puffin. Eagle
Which through the genial April day
In part each pleasant homestead scene,
Lawn, garden, orchard, shrubbery green,
Enliven, as intent to rear
Their coming race our dwelling near?
And who still more the kinds can tell,
Which distant from our homesteads dwell
149
Of wood, or barren wilderness,
Where few their houshold haunts may see,
And nurse their brood in privacy?
Yet would the Muse attempt to sing,
How, prompted by the inspiring spring,
In the wild brake's impervious shade,
Or tangled copse, or gloomy glade
Of woodland, on the dusky ground
Of bents and oaken leaves embrown'd
The Nightingale his mansion plants
Prolifick, and his love-song chants
The livelong night at hand to cheer
Below his brooding partner's ear:—
How, prompted by the inspiring spring,
In the wild brake's impervious shade,
Or tangled copse, or gloomy glade
Of woodland, on the dusky ground
Of bents and oaken leaves embrown'd
The Nightingale his mansion plants
Prolifick, and his love-song chants
The livelong night at hand to cheer
Below his brooding partner's ear:—
How by the trembling mountain brook,
Mid rocky glen, in mossy nook,
Wash'd by the dashing torrent's spray
Their eggs the lonely Dippers lay;
Or, lurking by the tranquil brim
Of pool or wood-embowered stream,
Within the pierc'd and hollowed side
The Kingfishers retiring hide
Their head's and wing's resplendent sheen
Of “turkis blue and emerald green :”—
Mid rocky glen, in mossy nook,
Wash'd by the dashing torrent's spray
Their eggs the lonely Dippers lay;
Or, lurking by the tranquil brim
Of pool or wood-embowered stream,
Within the pierc'd and hollowed side
The Kingfishers retiring hide
Their head's and wing's resplendent sheen
Of “turkis blue and emerald green :”—
How on wild moor or sterile heath
Bright with the golden furze, beneath
O'erhanging bush or shelving stone,
The little Stonechat dwells alone,
Or near his brother of the Whin;
Among the foremost to begin
His pretty love-song's tinkling sound,
And nest low seated on the ground,
Not heedless of the winding pass
That leads him through the secret grass:—
Bright with the golden furze, beneath
O'erhanging bush or shelving stone,
The little Stonechat dwells alone,
Or near his brother of the Whin;
Among the foremost to begin
150
And nest low seated on the ground,
Not heedless of the winding pass
That leads him through the secret grass:—
How in the depth of solemn groves
The Cushat and the Turtle Doves
On the tall fir of transverse sticks
Their artless dwelling rudely fix,
Where on the gazer's eye below
Gleam their twin eggs of drifted snow:—
The Cushat and the Turtle Doves
On the tall fir of transverse sticks
Their artless dwelling rudely fix,
Where on the gazer's eye below
Gleam their twin eggs of drifted snow:—
How their broad floors the Herons make
On wooded isle, 'mid inland lake,
Aloft a congregated town;
Where on the spare twigs nestling, down
Hangs dangling from the peopled bough
Their dull-green length of leg:—and how
Imbedded in the marsh-grown weeds,
Amid his mansionry of reeds
And rushy flags, the Bittern late
In the dark night salutes his mate,
And echo o'er the swamp rebounds
His solemn love-cry's spectral sounds.
On wooded isle, 'mid inland lake,
Aloft a congregated town;
Where on the spare twigs nestling, down
Hangs dangling from the peopled bough
Their dull-green length of leg:—and how
Imbedded in the marsh-grown weeds,
Amid his mansionry of reeds
And rushy flags, the Bittern late
In the dark night salutes his mate,
And echo o'er the swamp rebounds
His solemn love-cry's spectral sounds.
Fain too the Muse would stretch her flight
To the steep rocks of southern Wight,
Or where the straiten'd Menai breaks
Round rugged Priestholm, or the peaks
Of craggy Ailsa's conelike pile,
Or northern Rathlin's simple isle;
There on the upright Sea-cliff's edge,
Along the bare and nestless ledge
Basaltick, or the cavern'd chalk,
The Willock and the Sharp-bill'd Auk
Their marshall'd ranks collective close;
Range tiers on tiers, and rows on rows,
Their solitary eggs, and brave
The sweeping wind and dashing wave:
Or deeply in the sandy shore
Their holes the burrowing Puffins bore;
Sharp as the riving ploughshare, thrill
The furrow with their knife-like bill;
Scoop outward, as with hollow hand,
With palmate feet the muttering sand;
And form a subterranean keep,
A winding chamber, long and deep.
To the steep rocks of southern Wight,
Or where the straiten'd Menai breaks
Round rugged Priestholm, or the peaks
Of craggy Ailsa's conelike pile,
Or northern Rathlin's simple isle;
There on the upright Sea-cliff's edge,
Along the bare and nestless ledge
Basaltick, or the cavern'd chalk,
The Willock and the Sharp-bill'd Auk
151
Range tiers on tiers, and rows on rows,
Their solitary eggs, and brave
The sweeping wind and dashing wave:
Or deeply in the sandy shore
Their holes the burrowing Puffins bore;
Sharp as the riving ploughshare, thrill
The furrow with their knife-like bill;
Scoop outward, as with hollow hand,
With palmate feet the muttering sand;
And form a subterranean keep,
A winding chamber, long and deep.
Thence would she fain ascending soar
The pillar'd head of huge Benmore
Abrupt, whose far projecting base
Old Ocean's giant arms embrace;
Or onward, where the boiling seas
Howl round the incircling Orcades;
Or where Killarney's ridges steep
Crown with thick woods the western deep:
There on the mountain's cloven crest
Survey far off the Eagle's nest,
Where dwells he with his faithful mate
From age to age in regal state
Aloft amid the lonely sky:
Thence marks with penetrating eye
His destin'd spoil, and seaward flings
Down, down, his flight on sounding wings,
Strikes with sure aim, and bears away
Up-soaring his reluctant prey.
The pillar'd head of huge Benmore
Abrupt, whose far projecting base
Old Ocean's giant arms embrace;
Or onward, where the boiling seas
Howl round the incircling Orcades;
Or where Killarney's ridges steep
Crown with thick woods the western deep:
There on the mountain's cloven crest
Survey far off the Eagle's nest,
Where dwells he with his faithful mate
From age to age in regal state
Aloft amid the lonely sky:
Thence marks with penetrating eye
His destin'd spoil, and seaward flings
Down, down, his flight on sounding wings,
Strikes with sure aim, and bears away
Up-soaring his reluctant prey.
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Other April objects. Fresh field and meadow vegetation. The Trout-stream. Newborn lambs. Mutual recognition of the dams and their young
From Ocean waves and Alpine heights
Recall the Muse's wandering wing,
To ponder nearer views; and sing
The fruits, which yet unsung remain,
Of fleeting April's fertile reign.
Between the furrow's darker rows
The fields their tender blades disclose.
Spread with a tint of freshest green
The meadows' speckless face is seen:
Where sprouting willows fringe the side
Of runnels, that beneath them glide,
And line the fresh and verdant grass
With broidery of liquid glass.
Such runnels o'er their pebbly bed,
Swift, shallow, bright, translucent, thread
My pleasant Hampshire's breezy hills,
Through bending coombs in eddying rills,
Winding their serpent folds about:
And there the cavern-haunting Trout
Whose spotted back's enamel vies
For crimson with the cowslip's eyes,
With belly where white lilies hold
Strife with the yellow marigold,
With leap, and splash, and twinkling gleam,
And ripple of the curling stream,
Springs upward on the frequent fly;
Or from the shadow passing by
Of steps, that on the margin stray
Cleaves, like a dart, the crystal way,
O'ershadow'd by the thickening shoots,
And lurks within the twisted roots.
The fields their tender blades disclose.
Spread with a tint of freshest green
The meadows' speckless face is seen:
Where sprouting willows fringe the side
Of runnels, that beneath them glide,
And line the fresh and verdant grass
With broidery of liquid glass.
Such runnels o'er their pebbly bed,
Swift, shallow, bright, translucent, thread
My pleasant Hampshire's breezy hills,
Through bending coombs in eddying rills,
Winding their serpent folds about:
And there the cavern-haunting Trout
Whose spotted back's enamel vies
For crimson with the cowslip's eyes,
With belly where white lilies hold
Strife with the yellow marigold,
With leap, and splash, and twinkling gleam,
And ripple of the curling stream,
Springs upward on the frequent fly;
Or from the shadow passing by
Of steps, that on the margin stray
Cleaves, like a dart, the crystal way,
153
And lurks within the twisted roots.
About their dams in frolick play
See how the Lambs at random stray,
In new-felt life exulting! See
Their mutual chases o'er the lea!
And now with skip, and frisk, and bound
They scale the meadow's grassy mound,
Or fearless down the trenches leap,
Or round the planted circle sweep.
And now they seek, by hunger led,
With quivering tail and butting head
Each for himself the well-known teats;
By instinct prompted; nor forgets
The feeble young his rightful dam
Distinct, nor she her youngling lamb.
Thus ever watchful nature guides
And prompts them, all the flock besides,
To seek their proper kind alone,
Nor choose another for their own.
Meanwhile sedate, the mother sheep
Close nibbling to their pasture keep,
Or on the thoughtless passer-by
Alarm'd direct the uplifted eye,
And watch him with suspicious glance:
Or conscious of the far advance
Of shepherd, with more welcome feed
Approaching, forward start with speed
His footsteps yet unseen to meet
With earnest gaze and welcoming bleat.
See how the Lambs at random stray,
In new-felt life exulting! See
Their mutual chases o'er the lea!
And now with skip, and frisk, and bound
They scale the meadow's grassy mound,
Or fearless down the trenches leap,
Or round the planted circle sweep.
And now they seek, by hunger led,
With quivering tail and butting head
Each for himself the well-known teats;
By instinct prompted; nor forgets
The feeble young his rightful dam
Distinct, nor she her youngling lamb.
Thus ever watchful nature guides
And prompts them, all the flock besides,
To seek their proper kind alone,
Nor choose another for their own.
Meanwhile sedate, the mother sheep
Close nibbling to their pasture keep,
Or on the thoughtless passer-by
Alarm'd direct the uplifted eye,
And watch him with suspicious glance:
Or conscious of the far advance
Of shepherd, with more welcome feed
Approaching, forward start with speed
His footsteps yet unseen to meet
With earnest gaze and welcoming bleat.
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Insects and reptiles. Worms. Ill counterbalanced by good. Snails. Slugs. Viper and Snake. Man's repugnance to them. Emmets. Gnats and Flies. Bees. Butterflies
See, from their dark recesses creep,
By April from their wintry sleep
Awaken'd, many an insect form,
And reptile! Now the burrowing worm,
The watchful warbler's welcome spoil,
Unsightly through the porous soil
Ascending, heaps the sprinkled ground,
Garden or field, with frequent mound
Offensive to fastidious sense,
Nor void of injury; but thence
Manuring warmth the grass pervades,
And the young corn-field's tender blades.
Thus nature, rightly understood,
Still counterpoises ill with good;
While man too oft unheedful still
The good forgets, resents the ill.
By April from their wintry sleep
Awaken'd, many an insect form,
And reptile! Now the burrowing worm,
The watchful warbler's welcome spoil,
Unsightly through the porous soil
Ascending, heaps the sprinkled ground,
Garden or field, with frequent mound
Offensive to fastidious sense,
Nor void of injury; but thence
Manuring warmth the grass pervades,
And the young corn-field's tender blades.
Thus nature, rightly understood,
Still counterpoises ill with good;
While man too oft unheedful still
The good forgets, resents the ill.
His shelly home about him wound,
With hard and spiral pent-house crown'd,
With sinuous course and slimy trail
Forth issues now the frequent Snail,
And leaves behind a silvery mark
On wall, or pathway, or the bark
Resplendent of the incircled tree.
But nought his spiral canopy
Avails against the prying thrush,
Prompt in his haunt to seek, and crush
Dash'd on the stones, or ruthless drill
With keen and penetrating bill
The yielding shell disperst, and win,
Rich prize, his lurking spoil within.
With hard and spiral pent-house crown'd,
With sinuous course and slimy trail
Forth issues now the frequent Snail,
And leaves behind a silvery mark
On wall, or pathway, or the bark
Resplendent of the incircled tree.
But nought his spiral canopy
Avails against the prying thrush,
Prompt in his haunt to seek, and crush
Dash'd on the stones, or ruthless drill
With keen and penetrating bill
The yielding shell disperst, and win,
Rich prize, his lurking spoil within.
Now too across the slimy way,
From the close covert, where he lay
In den beneath earth's bosom dug,
Crawls in dense crowds the shell-less Slug.
An easy prey, if forth he come,
Nor less, if in his burrow'd home
In earth's dark breast he seek repose,
To the keen tribe of riving crows,
Voracious; which though little priz'd,
Perhaps offensive or despis'd,
Confer, by nature's bounteous plan,
Substantial benefits on man.
From the close covert, where he lay
155
Crawls in dense crowds the shell-less Slug.
An easy prey, if forth he come,
Nor less, if in his burrow'd home
In earth's dark breast he seek repose,
To the keen tribe of riving crows,
Voracious; which though little priz'd,
Perhaps offensive or despis'd,
Confer, by nature's bounteous plan,
Substantial benefits on man.
See, basking by the sunny brake
The Viper keen, and stingless Snake!
Regardful of the poisonous bite,
Smite, if you will, for safety smite
The noxious reptile; but forbear,
And with considerate mercy spare
Him who nor does nor means you harm!
Lo, at your step with swift alarm
Innocuously he glides away,
And unconcern'd about him play
The little birds, nor for a foe
The thicket's harmless inmate know.
Yet, mindful of the primal ban,
By nature or by habit Man
Shrinks shuddering with disgust and fright
Ev'n from the harmless reptile's sight.
And still with hostile aim we tread
Remorseless on his “bruised head,”
As if we fear'd we else should feel
His venom in our wounded “heel.”
And well it is to bear in mind
The fall primeval of our kind,
The curse primeval; and to bring
Instruction from each creeping thing,
To warn us of our own estate:
But not to cherish baseless hate
For all, nor let our wrath be sped
Injurious on the harmless head!
The Viper keen, and stingless Snake!
Regardful of the poisonous bite,
Smite, if you will, for safety smite
The noxious reptile; but forbear,
And with considerate mercy spare
Him who nor does nor means you harm!
Lo, at your step with swift alarm
Innocuously he glides away,
And unconcern'd about him play
The little birds, nor for a foe
The thicket's harmless inmate know.
Yet, mindful of the primal ban,
By nature or by habit Man
Shrinks shuddering with disgust and fright
Ev'n from the harmless reptile's sight.
And still with hostile aim we tread
Remorseless on his “bruised head,”
As if we fear'd we else should feel
His venom in our wounded “heel.”
And well it is to bear in mind
The fall primeval of our kind,
156
Instruction from each creeping thing,
To warn us of our own estate:
But not to cherish baseless hate
For all, nor let our wrath be sped
Injurious on the harmless head!
And see the industrious Emmet's race,
With forward course and eager pace,
Forth from their wintry hillock's store
Blackening the narrow pathway pour,
And to and fro impatient run,
Exulting in the vernal sun.
With forward course and eager pace,
Forth from their wintry hillock's store
Blackening the narrow pathway pour,
And to and fro impatient run,
Exulting in the vernal sun.
To frolick in the sunny skies,
The Gnats and silver-winged Flies,
And here and there the scatter'd Bees,
That from the flow'rs and bloomy trees
Suck nectar in the noontide warm,
Precursive of the future swarm,
Abroad with buzz and murmur come.
The Humble-Bee with louder hum
Across your path comes booming by.
And now and then a Butterfly
Waves in the breath of balmy gales
The tissue of his plumed scales.
He first, whose many mingled dies,
Gold, azure, red, and Argus' eyes
Hold contest with the Peacock's train:
And he, whose wings of blood-bright grain
With broidery black and gold excel
The mottled Tortoise' polish'd shell:
He that, of crimson frontlet, decks
Bedropt with central crimson specks
The brightness of each sulphur sail,
Bright as the sun: or he that pale
Of lustre, as the pale moonlight,
Expands each fanlike circlet bright
With sable spots and sable tips;
As the fresh garden-dew he sips,
And flutters o'er the Colewort's head,
And marks his future offspring's bed.
The Gnats and silver-winged Flies,
And here and there the scatter'd Bees,
That from the flow'rs and bloomy trees
Suck nectar in the noontide warm,
Precursive of the future swarm,
Abroad with buzz and murmur come.
The Humble-Bee with louder hum
Across your path comes booming by.
And now and then a Butterfly
Waves in the breath of balmy gales
The tissue of his plumed scales.
He first, whose many mingled dies,
Gold, azure, red, and Argus' eyes
Hold contest with the Peacock's train:
And he, whose wings of blood-bright grain
With broidery black and gold excel
The mottled Tortoise' polish'd shell:
He that, of crimson frontlet, decks
Bedropt with central crimson specks
157
Bright as the sun: or he that pale
Of lustre, as the pale moonlight,
Expands each fanlike circlet bright
With sable spots and sable tips;
As the fresh garden-dew he sips,
And flutters o'er the Colewort's head,
And marks his future offspring's bed.
Mischief done by Butterflies in the Caterpillar state. The Chrysalis. The Imago. Its fair appearance and mischievous operations. How compensated. Goodness of Providence
Pity, a form so passing bright,
Made, as might seem, to give delight,
A form for loveliness to wear,
And innocence, about should bear
Destruction brooding in its breast,
Surpassing thought, a general pest!
What time the egg mature reveals
The expected birth; when forth it steals,
Not like the parent form'd to fly
Abroad, and charm the dazzled eye,
Another Phœnix: but in form
A downy, soft, elongate Worm,
On legs multiplicate to creep
With unperceiv'd and wily step,
The garden's bane, the gardener's grief,
From plant to plant, from leaf to leaf,
With tender green before him graced,
Behind him left a dreary waste.
Made, as might seem, to give delight,
A form for loveliness to wear,
And innocence, about should bear
Destruction brooding in its breast,
Surpassing thought, a general pest!
What time the egg mature reveals
The expected birth; when forth it steals,
Not like the parent form'd to fly
Abroad, and charm the dazzled eye,
Another Phœnix: but in form
A downy, soft, elongate Worm,
On legs multiplicate to creep
With unperceiv'd and wily step,
The garden's bane, the gardener's grief,
From plant to plant, from leaf to leaf,
With tender green before him graced,
Behind him left a dreary waste.
Till, satiate of destruction's task,
And stript of many a mantling mask,
Each after each, the remnant roll'd
In winding sheet of tissued gold,
It dangles from a silken thread,
In semblance motionless and dead,
Like Egypt's mummied forms of old:
Anon to burst the incircling fold;
Anon to charm the admiring view,
An Image beautiful, and new,
And perfect, of its beauteous race;
Anon to flit from place to place,
Show to the sun his feather'd mail,
The blossom's sweetest scent inhale,
A few brief days; and then to die,
And leave behind a progeny,
Like its own infant mask-like state,
And pregnant with the garden's fate.
And stript of many a mantling mask,
Each after each, the remnant roll'd
In winding sheet of tissued gold,
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In semblance motionless and dead,
Like Egypt's mummied forms of old:
Anon to burst the incircling fold;
Anon to charm the admiring view,
An Image beautiful, and new,
And perfect, of its beauteous race;
Anon to flit from place to place,
Show to the sun his feather'd mail,
The blossom's sweetest scent inhale,
A few brief days; and then to die,
And leave behind a progeny,
Like its own infant mask-like state,
And pregnant with the garden's fate.
Yes, pity that a form so fair
Should seeds of hidden mischief bear!
And yet not useless, while the eye
Feeds on the gorgeous butterfly
Delighted, if reflexion turn
A page of wisdom's book, and learn
How oft appearance may deceive,
Fair to the sight, the sons of Eve,
Herself deceiv'd of old: how oft
The pleasant smile, the manners soft,
“Like whiten'd sepulchres!” though clean
Without, may harbour ill within!
Not useless, if again we look
With due regard on nature's book;
And read, how He, who wisely sends
The butterfly, to make amends
Sends us to pierce the larva's skin,
The Parasitick Fly, therein
To lurk, and seek its custom'd food,
And check the expected insect's brood:—
Sends us the little birds with claw
Comprest, and pungent bill, to draw
Abroad where'er in secret place
They dwell, the keen voracious race:—
And to mankind withal imparts
Attentive and observant hearts,
Intelligence, contrivance, skill,
To cope with what remains of ill;
Mindful of Him, by whom is sent,
For proof of faith, or chastisement
Of weak distrust, those creeping things,
His army; and who kindly brings
His aid, that men o'er ill subdued
May triumph and rejoice in good,
And with submissive meekness know
Whence both the bane and blessing flow!
Should seeds of hidden mischief bear!
And yet not useless, while the eye
Feeds on the gorgeous butterfly
Delighted, if reflexion turn
A page of wisdom's book, and learn
How oft appearance may deceive,
Fair to the sight, the sons of Eve,
Herself deceiv'd of old: how oft
The pleasant smile, the manners soft,
“Like whiten'd sepulchres!” though clean
Without, may harbour ill within!
Not useless, if again we look
With due regard on nature's book;
And read, how He, who wisely sends
The butterfly, to make amends
Sends us to pierce the larva's skin,
The Parasitick Fly, therein
159
And check the expected insect's brood:—
Sends us the little birds with claw
Comprest, and pungent bill, to draw
Abroad where'er in secret place
They dwell, the keen voracious race:—
And to mankind withal imparts
Attentive and observant hearts,
Intelligence, contrivance, skill,
To cope with what remains of ill;
Mindful of Him, by whom is sent,
For proof of faith, or chastisement
Of weak distrust, those creeping things,
His army; and who kindly brings
His aid, that men o'er ill subdued
May triumph and rejoice in good,
And with submissive meekness know
Whence both the bane and blessing flow!
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MAY.
May-day, its observance in old times. A season of gaiety. The May-pole. Perhaps the occasion of evil. Harmless remnants of the Custom. May Garland
It was of old a festive day,
That usher'd in the birth of May.
Right early on the jocund morn,
When that delightful month was born,
Or ere the thrush's new-fledg'd brood
Came forth their caterpillar food
To pick upon the dewy lawn,
Scarce lighted by the flickering dawn;
Or ere from his low place of rest,
Hid in the sprouting cornfield's breast,
“The lark, the shepherd's clock ,” had sprung,
And bath'd in light etherial sung
Aloft his blithesome roundelay
Of greeting to the morning gray;
While yet the amorous nightingale
Told in still twilight's ear his tale
Of rapturous joy and love repaid,
Thick warbling through the woodland glade;
Regardless of the timely sleep,
The noble from the castled steep,
The burgher from the busy change,
From village, hamlet, lonely grange
The peasantry, a mingled throng
Lasses and lads, and old and young,
Pour'd forth promiscuously to pay
Observance to the merry May:
With shout and song and winded horn
Alert to wake the slumbering morn;
To rove the good greenwood, and bring
Away the spoil of early spring,
With nosegays deck'd, with garlands crown'd,
And hang each smiling homestead round,
Window, and door, and porch with bowers
Of verdant boughs and blooming flowers.
That usher'd in the birth of May.
Right early on the jocund morn,
When that delightful month was born,
Or ere the thrush's new-fledg'd brood
Came forth their caterpillar food
To pick upon the dewy lawn,
Scarce lighted by the flickering dawn;
Or ere from his low place of rest,
Hid in the sprouting cornfield's breast,
“The lark, the shepherd's clock ,” had sprung,
And bath'd in light etherial sung
Aloft his blithesome roundelay
Of greeting to the morning gray;
While yet the amorous nightingale
Told in still twilight's ear his tale
Of rapturous joy and love repaid,
Thick warbling through the woodland glade;
Regardless of the timely sleep,
The noble from the castled steep,
The burgher from the busy change,
From village, hamlet, lonely grange
The peasantry, a mingled throng
Lasses and lads, and old and young,
Pour'd forth promiscuously to pay
Observance to the merry May:
164
Alert to wake the slumbering morn;
To rove the good greenwood, and bring
Away the spoil of early spring,
With nosegays deck'd, with garlands crown'd,
And hang each smiling homestead round,
Window, and door, and porch with bowers
Of verdant boughs and blooming flowers.
And then at home the joyous scene!
The Maypole on the village green,
With ribbons, flag, and chaplets bound;
And pipe and tabor's mirthful sound;
And merry bells in concert ringing;
And merry voices blithely singing;
And merry footsteps featly glancing
With jingling bells; and morris-dancing,
'Mid clash of swords and Kendal green,
About the season's maiden Queen,
In crown and flowery mantle drest,
Gave honour to the vernal feast.
The Maypole on the village green,
With ribbons, flag, and chaplets bound;
And pipe and tabor's mirthful sound;
And merry bells in concert ringing;
And merry voices blithely singing;
And merry footsteps featly glancing
With jingling bells; and morris-dancing,
'Mid clash of swords and Kendal green,
About the season's maiden Queen,
In crown and flowery mantle drest,
Gave honour to the vernal feast.
Touch'd by the tint of mellowing years,
And view'd far off, the scene appears
One but of innocent delight.
And yet perchance a nearer sight,
As space diminish'd oft reveals
Spots that a distant view conceals,
Might open to the thoughtful eye,
Enough to raise a serious sigh,
For much of inconsiderate glee,
Intemperate rout and revelry,
With lack of purity combin'd;
Enough to satisfy the mind,
Howe'er the fancy love to glance
On by-gone themes of old romance,
'Tis well that now is past away
The observance of those rites of May.
And view'd far off, the scene appears
One but of innocent delight.
And yet perchance a nearer sight,
As space diminish'd oft reveals
Spots that a distant view conceals,
Might open to the thoughtful eye,
Enough to raise a serious sigh,
For much of inconsiderate glee,
Intemperate rout and revelry,
165
Enough to satisfy the mind,
Howe'er the fancy love to glance
On by-gone themes of old romance,
'Tis well that now is past away
The observance of those rites of May.
But who what now remains would blame
Austerely of the May-day game?
And who so grave, as when he sees,
Returning from the woods and leas,
The lads' and lasses' village troops
With garlanded and ribbon'd hoops,
All-sparkling with the morning dew,
Pale primroses, and harebells blue,
Bright goldilocks, and pansies pied,
And scented hawthorn's snow-white pride,
And all the garniture of spring;
And hears them blithely carolling,
Memorials of the elder times,
Their rude traditionary rhimes,
Gathering of doles a little store
In pilgrimage from door to door:—
Yes, who so grave, so dull of heart
To bear in others' joys a part,
As from such pastime, void of guile
And harmless, to withhold a smile
And tribute to the garland gay,
Nor wish them all a merry May?
Austerely of the May-day game?
And who so grave, as when he sees,
Returning from the woods and leas,
The lads' and lasses' village troops
With garlanded and ribbon'd hoops,
All-sparkling with the morning dew,
Pale primroses, and harebells blue,
Bright goldilocks, and pansies pied,
And scented hawthorn's snow-white pride,
And all the garniture of spring;
And hears them blithely carolling,
Memorials of the elder times,
Their rude traditionary rhimes,
Gathering of doles a little store
In pilgrimage from door to door:—
Yes, who so grave, so dull of heart
To bear in others' joys a part,
As from such pastime, void of guile
And harmless, to withhold a smile
And tribute to the garland gay,
Nor wish them all a merry May?
May the month of mirth. Occasional frosts. Windy weather, its usefulness. Shedding of the fruit-blossoms, and last year's beech-leaves. The laurel's succession of leaves
May is the very month of mirth!
And if there be a time on earth,
When things below in part may vie
For beauty with the things on high;
As some have thought earth's beauties given
For counterparts of those in heaven;
'Tis in that balmy vernal time,
When nature revels in her prime;
And all is fresh and fair and gay,
Resplendent with the smiles of May.
And if there be a time on earth,
166
For beauty with the things on high;
As some have thought earth's beauties given
For counterparts of those in heaven;
'Tis in that balmy vernal time,
When nature revels in her prime;
And all is fresh and fair and gay,
Resplendent with the smiles of May.
Not that with universal smiles,
In these our north Atlantick isles,
At once, and in her infant days,
Sweet May her blooming face arrays.
Not that no lurking lingering trace
Of winter still maintains its place
Intrusive on her early hours;
Obscures her charms with sullen showers,
Or with a keen and frosty breath
Insidious nips the flowery wreath,
And mars the kirtle green, that deck
Her shining brow and glossy neck.
Not that no harsher ruder sway
The usurper will at times display;
With touch of eastern blast consume
The blacken'd leaf, the shrivel'd bloom,
And crush with iron grasp severe
The promise of the early year.
In these our north Atlantick isles,
At once, and in her infant days,
Sweet May her blooming face arrays.
Not that no lurking lingering trace
Of winter still maintains its place
Intrusive on her early hours;
Obscures her charms with sullen showers,
Or with a keen and frosty breath
Insidious nips the flowery wreath,
And mars the kirtle green, that deck
Her shining brow and glossy neck.
Not that no harsher ruder sway
The usurper will at times display;
With touch of eastern blast consume
The blacken'd leaf, the shrivel'd bloom,
And crush with iron grasp severe
The promise of the early year.
But rarely such disastrous force
Arrests fair May's propitious course.
While o'er her minor transient harms
Arise her due reviving charms
Superior; winter's lingering frown
Displace; repair her half-nipt crown;
And fling at length a general robe
Of verdure o'er the laughing globe.
Arrests fair May's propitious course.
While o'er her minor transient harms
Arise her due reviving charms
Superior; winter's lingering frown
Displace; repair her half-nipt crown;
167
Of verdure o'er the laughing globe.
Yet oft, amid the season fair,
The restless spirit of the air,
From his cloud-mantled citadel,
Where rain and wind and thunder dwell,
His ready agents sends abroad;
Not with austere and blighting rod
Equipt, to injure or destroy,
But give fertility and joy;
Release the long expected shoot,
Unfold the bud, the embryo fruit
Strip of the inclosing blossom bare,
And for the ripening warmth prepare.
The restless spirit of the air,
From his cloud-mantled citadel,
Where rain and wind and thunder dwell,
His ready agents sends abroad;
Not with austere and blighting rod
Equipt, to injure or destroy,
But give fertility and joy;
Release the long expected shoot,
Unfold the bud, the embryo fruit
Strip of the inclosing blossom bare,
And for the ripening warmth prepare.
Then will a strange fantastick form
Of things attend the transient storm.
Of things attend the transient storm.
Oft when the vernal breezes blow,
You might believe the wintry snow
Was falling fast in fleecy showers;
So thick the Cherry's blossom'd flowers,
Or branching Pear's, in flakes around
Descending clothe the whiten'd ground:
While near from party-colour'd bloom
The Apple breathes his rich perfume,
Amid the hum of murmuring bees
That hover through the fragrant trees;
And sheds from many a cluster'd head
His show'r of mingled white and red.
You might believe the wintry snow
Was falling fast in fleecy showers;
So thick the Cherry's blossom'd flowers,
Or branching Pear's, in flakes around
Descending clothe the whiten'd ground:
While near from party-colour'd bloom
The Apple breathes his rich perfume,
Amid the hum of murmuring bees
That hover through the fragrant trees;
And sheds from many a cluster'd head
His show'r of mingled white and red.
Oft might you think the year again
Was chang'd to autumn's withering reign,
So thick the dark brown leaves are strew'd
In whirls amid the Beechen wood;
Save that above, the boughs are seen
Cloth'd with their new-born sprouts of green,
Which, as the winds pass over, play
And twinkle in the sunny ray.
Was chang'd to autumn's withering reign,
168
In whirls amid the Beechen wood;
Save that above, the boughs are seen
Cloth'd with their new-born sprouts of green,
Which, as the winds pass over, play
And twinkle in the sunny ray.
Nor less are seen, as if in strife,
The appearances of death and life,
Where for his blotch'd and sapless leaves,
Its self-bred plague, the Laurel grieves,
Which now the loosening breezes sweep
Abroad in many a spiral heap,
Yellow, or tawny brown: but feels
Meanwhile the mounting juice, that steals
Through the green veins unseen, and shows
The untwisting shoots in spiky rows.
So closely on the falling dead
The coming ranks aspiring tread,
No unfill'd interval between,
That thus with vesture evergreen
The laurels ne'er dismantled stand:
Like that once fam'd Immortal Band,
The pride of Persia's turban'd host,
Where ever, to fulfill the post
Scarce void, an armed champion rose;
And still the band the astonish'd foes
Complete in length and depth defied,
As if their slaughter'd never died.
The appearances of death and life,
Where for his blotch'd and sapless leaves,
Its self-bred plague, the Laurel grieves,
Which now the loosening breezes sweep
Abroad in many a spiral heap,
Yellow, or tawny brown: but feels
Meanwhile the mounting juice, that steals
Through the green veins unseen, and shows
The untwisting shoots in spiky rows.
So closely on the falling dead
The coming ranks aspiring tread,
No unfill'd interval between,
That thus with vesture evergreen
The laurels ne'er dismantled stand:
Like that once fam'd Immortal Band,
The pride of Persia's turban'd host,
Where ever, to fulfill the post
Scarce void, an armed champion rose;
And still the band the astonish'd foes
Complete in length and depth defied,
As if their slaughter'd never died.
Fresh foliage of Firs. Scotch Firs among other trees. Variety of tints on forest-trees. Beech, Elm, Birch, Lime, Alder, Maple, Willow
Tipt with a russet film, that wraps
The tender shoot in conelike caps,
From every branch and branchlet's end
And upright head the Fir-trees send
Their fanlike leaves of vivid die,
Mocking their elder progeny.
While on the mountain's sloping face,
'Mong hardier Pines of Scottish race,
Fresh-sprouting trees their boughs adorn
With leaves gay-smiling, as in scorn
Of those that still maintain their hue
Unchang'd of dun and dingy blue,
'Mid the bright produce of the year;
Unlike as mourners might appear,
In weeds of melancholy drest,
At natal or at nuptial feast.
The tender shoot in conelike caps,
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And upright head the Fir-trees send
Their fanlike leaves of vivid die,
Mocking their elder progeny.
While on the mountain's sloping face,
'Mong hardier Pines of Scottish race,
Fresh-sprouting trees their boughs adorn
With leaves gay-smiling, as in scorn
Of those that still maintain their hue
Unchang'd of dun and dingy blue,
'Mid the bright produce of the year;
Unlike as mourners might appear,
In weeds of melancholy drest,
At natal or at nuptial feast.
For, lo! by May's light touch are seen
Colour'd with varied tints of green,
Now deep and dark, now pale and light,
Now almost fading into white,
Now heighten'd to a mellower shade
Of yellow bright or russet red,
The offsprings of the woodland realm!
The glossy Beech, the rougher Elm,
The waving Birch's silvery bark,
And pallid Lime, and Alder dark,
Maple and Willow's countless race,
Which cloth'd their forms with chequer'd grace
Of leafy garb before, have now
From stem to crown, each branch and bough,
Light twig, and open'd spray array'd
With depth and plenitude of shade.
Colour'd with varied tints of green,
Now deep and dark, now pale and light,
Now almost fading into white,
Now heighten'd to a mellower shade
Of yellow bright or russet red,
The offsprings of the woodland realm!
The glossy Beech, the rougher Elm,
The waving Birch's silvery bark,
And pallid Lime, and Alder dark,
Maple and Willow's countless race,
Which cloth'd their forms with chequer'd grace
Of leafy garb before, have now
From stem to crown, each branch and bough,
Light twig, and open'd spray array'd
With depth and plenitude of shade.
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Trees later in foliage. Oak, Ash, Abele, Poplar, Walnut, Plane, Mulberry
And they that watch'd with cautious glance
The settled season's slow advance,
Afraid, amid the sunshine fair,
Of lurking frost's pernicious air,
No longer fail they to obey
The summons of more genial May.
The Oak, his leaves not wholly spread,
And tipt with tints of tawny red;
The Ash, with wings of leafits green
Fresh from the dark bud's sable skreen;
With leaves, their lightsome hue that steal
From Flora's realm, the white Abele;
With sickly hue of pining grief,
The Poplar's green and yellow leaf;
In verdure deep the Walnut died;
The Plane's umbrageous shelter wide;
And last its foliage to unfold,
Sure sign to rural wisdom old,
That the chill breath of mornings frore
Shall nip the tender shoot no more,
The Mulberry yields so dark and dense
'Gainst summer suns its deepening fence,
That scarce a ray can glide between
The meshes of that dark-leav'd skreen.
The settled season's slow advance,
Afraid, amid the sunshine fair,
Of lurking frost's pernicious air,
No longer fail they to obey
The summons of more genial May.
The Oak, his leaves not wholly spread,
And tipt with tints of tawny red;
The Ash, with wings of leafits green
Fresh from the dark bud's sable skreen;
With leaves, their lightsome hue that steal
From Flora's realm, the white Abele;
With sickly hue of pining grief,
The Poplar's green and yellow leaf;
In verdure deep the Walnut died;
The Plane's umbrageous shelter wide;
And last its foliage to unfold,
Sure sign to rural wisdom old,
That the chill breath of mornings frore
Shall nip the tender shoot no more,
The Mulberry yields so dark and dense
'Gainst summer suns its deepening fence,
That scarce a ray can glide between
The meshes of that dark-leav'd skreen.
And many a bright and chalic'd flower
Is blooming 'mid the leafy bower
Of those tall brethren of the wood:
Tho' oft beneath the o'erarching hood
Of close-wove boughs they lurking lie,
Scarce notic'd by the careless eye.
Is blooming 'mid the leafy bower
Of those tall brethren of the wood:
Tho' oft beneath the o'erarching hood
Of close-wove boughs they lurking lie,
Scarce notic'd by the careless eye.
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Fresh blossoming of forest-trees. Beech, Oak, Sycamore, Chestnut
The branches of the spreading Beech,
Or, yet unharm'd by woodman's stroke,
Expands the gnarl'd and knotted Oak,
The lordly trees in full-rob'd pride
The strings of pendent blossoms hide.
Not so, where'er his honey'd store
The broad and brown-leaf'd Sycamore,
In clusters of green blossoms strung,
Has from his russet branchlets hung.
Nor yet from eyes most careless hid
Is many a spiky pyramid,
Which rising from its full-form'd bed,
The massive Chestnut's rounded head,
You see with peerless pomp indue
The park or long-drawn avenue.
The Copse in leaf and flower. The Barberry; White-beam and pliant Mealy-tree; Guelder Rose, an ornament of the shrubbery. Medlar, Elder, Service, Maple, Hawthorn
Nor does its charms the coppice hide,
In friendly rivalry allied,
Each lending each a due relief,
The beauties of the “flow'r and leaf.”
In friendly rivalry allied,
Each lending each a due relief,
The beauties of the “flow'r and leaf.”
See, spines and saw-like leaves among,
The Barberry's yellow bunches hung,
Whose stamens, as with life indued,
Shrink from the touch of fingers rude;
And, shrinking, on the pointal's head
The fructifying pollen shed:
Of aspect pleasing, but of scent,
Which the smell loves not, redolent:
But if within its noxious sphere
Abortive made, the wheaten ear
Robb'd of its swelling grain decay,
The cautious Muse forbears to say.
The Barberry's yellow bunches hung,
Whose stamens, as with life indued,
Shrink from the touch of fingers rude;
And, shrinking, on the pointal's head
The fructifying pollen shed:
Of aspect pleasing, but of scent,
Which the smell loves not, redolent:
But if within its noxious sphere
Abortive made, the wheaten ear
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The cautious Muse forbears to say.
Clad with a terminating crown
Of bloom, and leaves of cottony down,
Two rival wilding beauties see,
White-beam, and pliant Mealy-tree.
And see with peerless blossoms crown'd,
In cluster'd tufts compact and round,
Like vegetable snow-balls blows,
Queen of the copse, the Guelder Rose:
Transplanted thence, her native grace
Competes with plants of foreign race
Among the shrubbery's pride inroll'd;
Laburnum's drops of pendent gold,
Sweet Lilac's many-colour'd bloom,
Heath's crimson bells, and silver Broom;
Azalea's nectar'd flamelike rays,
And Pontick Rose-tree's purple blaze.
Of bloom, and leaves of cottony down,
Two rival wilding beauties see,
White-beam, and pliant Mealy-tree.
And see with peerless blossoms crown'd,
In cluster'd tufts compact and round,
Like vegetable snow-balls blows,
Queen of the copse, the Guelder Rose:
Transplanted thence, her native grace
Competes with plants of foreign race
Among the shrubbery's pride inroll'd;
Laburnum's drops of pendent gold,
Sweet Lilac's many-colour'd bloom,
Heath's crimson bells, and silver Broom;
Azalea's nectar'd flamelike rays,
And Pontick Rose-tree's purple blaze.
See too, to grace the coppice wild,
May-born, our Britain's native child,
The Medlar's broad and single eye;
And, priz'd for village pharmacy,
The Elder's crowded cups minute;
Service with hope of autumn fruit;
And Maple's spikes of florets green;
And Hawthorn, fam'd 'mid vernal scene
For gracing May's propitious hour
With prodigality of flower,
Pink-anther'd 'mid its petals pale,
And lending fragrance to the gale;
Hail'd from its fair and sweet array
The namesake of the lovely May.
May-born, our Britain's native child,
The Medlar's broad and single eye;
And, priz'd for village pharmacy,
The Elder's crowded cups minute;
Service with hope of autumn fruit;
And Maple's spikes of florets green;
And Hawthorn, fam'd 'mid vernal scene
For gracing May's propitious hour
With prodigality of flower,
Pink-anther'd 'mid its petals pale,
And lending fragrance to the gale;
Hail'd from its fair and sweet array
The namesake of the lovely May.
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Early and late stages of Hawthorn compared. Retiring virtues amiable. More gaudy flowers, Pæony, Iris, Campion, Foxglove, Columbines, compared with more modest flowers, Yellow Pimpernel, Cistus, Woodruff, Common Speedwell, Lily of the Valley
One sheet of bloom, the raptur'd sight
Entrancing: fragrant is the scent
Thence to the vernal breezes lent.
And yet I know not, but the May
Does too exuberant charms display,
A conscious beauty, unretir'd,
Which seeks and claims to be admir'd.
And so the mind with more delight
Is gladden'd, as the smell and sight;
To see the pink-tipt buds that lie
Veil'd in their leafy canopy,
And unobtrusive on the gale
A fresh and chasten'd sweet exhale;
Than when with one unsparing blaze
Full-blown they strike the dazzled gaze,
And on the satiate smell o'erspent
Diffuse a languor-breathing scent.
Retiring virtues, mild and meek,
Our heart's benevolence bespeak;
Nor fail we to admit their power,
When only shadow'd in a flower.
For many a flow'r by nature wild
Is sown, of aspect meek and mild,
Which seems though faintly to express
Those virtues in their loveliness:
Thence by some union undefin'd
To our complacent feelings kind
Commended, and allow'd a share
In our benign regard to bear,
Beyond the admiration shown
For their exterior charms alone.
Our heart's benevolence bespeak;
Nor fail we to admit their power,
When only shadow'd in a flower.
For many a flow'r by nature wild
Is sown, of aspect meek and mild,
Which seems though faintly to express
Those virtues in their loveliness:
Thence by some union undefin'd
To our complacent feelings kind
Commended, and allow'd a share
In our benign regard to bear,
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For their exterior charms alone.
And, though to some the thought may seem
A vision or fantastick dream,
Now as the hands of time unroll
Another fold in nature's scroll,
Illumin'd by the sportive Hours
With portraiture of countless flowers;
Methinks with mixture less we see
Of kind goodwill the Pæony
Undaunted to the sunbeams spread
Her flame-like rays and mantle red:
Or Iris' yellow banner flaunt
Ambitious o'er her wat'ry haunt;
Or Campion's cloven cups diffuse
On blushing fields their roseate hues;
Or Foxglove's purple bells adorn
The heath, or with their nectar'd horn
Blue Columbines the grassy leas:—
Yes, with less kindness mark we these,
Though beauteous be their form, and gay
Their tints, and gorgeous their array;
Than see within the bushy dell
Half-hid the yellow Pimpernel
Beside the moss-grown runnel peep;
Or on the clefts the Cistus creep,
Low-trailing, of the chalky down;
Or Woodruff lift her fragrant crown
Of star-like blossoms pure as snow,
With radiate fringe of leaves below,
In greenwood shade; or Speedwell strew
With sapphir petals bright and blue,
And pearl-like eye, the hedgerow bank;
Or in some hollow woodland dank,
(Such woodland pleasant Essex yields
By abbey'd Coggeshall's garden fields,
My home erewhile and pastoral care,)
See the May-Lily, chaste and fair,
Stud with her pendent globules white
The stem o'erarching, on the sight
Scarce peering from their verdant shade,
More by the scented air betray'd.
A vision or fantastick dream,
Now as the hands of time unroll
Another fold in nature's scroll,
Illumin'd by the sportive Hours
With portraiture of countless flowers;
Methinks with mixture less we see
Of kind goodwill the Pæony
Undaunted to the sunbeams spread
Her flame-like rays and mantle red:
Or Iris' yellow banner flaunt
Ambitious o'er her wat'ry haunt;
Or Campion's cloven cups diffuse
On blushing fields their roseate hues;
Or Foxglove's purple bells adorn
The heath, or with their nectar'd horn
Blue Columbines the grassy leas:—
Yes, with less kindness mark we these,
Though beauteous be their form, and gay
Their tints, and gorgeous their array;
Than see within the bushy dell
Half-hid the yellow Pimpernel
Beside the moss-grown runnel peep;
Or on the clefts the Cistus creep,
Low-trailing, of the chalky down;
Or Woodruff lift her fragrant crown
Of star-like blossoms pure as snow,
With radiate fringe of leaves below,
In greenwood shade; or Speedwell strew
With sapphir petals bright and blue,
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Or in some hollow woodland dank,
(Such woodland pleasant Essex yields
By abbey'd Coggeshall's garden fields,
My home erewhile and pastoral care,)
See the May-Lily, chaste and fair,
Stud with her pendent globules white
The stem o'erarching, on the sight
Scarce peering from their verdant shade,
More by the scented air betray'd.
Yes, in these little plants that grow
In haunts sequester'd, meek and low
Of stature, signs imprest I see
Of gentleness and modesty.
And therefore as, the vernal tide,
Each grows my rural path beside,
Thoughts of kind greeting forth I send
To hail it as a welcome friend.
While thus in moralising strain
With one, the loveliest of the train,
As with a living thing the Muse
Holds converse, and her theme pursues
On hint, by lips of Wisdom taught,
Of heavenly lore and holy thought.
In haunts sequester'd, meek and low
Of stature, signs imprest I see
Of gentleness and modesty.
And therefore as, the vernal tide,
Each grows my rural path beside,
Thoughts of kind greeting forth I send
To hail it as a welcome friend.
While thus in moralising strain
With one, the loveliest of the train,
As with a living thing the Muse
Holds converse, and her theme pursues
On hint, by lips of Wisdom taught,
Of heavenly lore and holy thought.
Address to the Lily of the Valley or May Lily
Fair flow'r, that lapt in lowly glade
Dost hide beneath the greenwood shade,
Than whom the vernal gale
None fairer wakes on bank or spray,
Our England's Lily of the May,
Our Lily of the vale!
Dost hide beneath the greenwood shade,
Than whom the vernal gale
None fairer wakes on bank or spray,
Our England's Lily of the May,
Our Lily of the vale!
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Art thou that “Lily of the field,”
Which, when the Saviour sought to shield
The heart from blank despair,
He show'd to our mistrustful kind,
An emblem to the thoughtful mind
Of God's paternal care?—
Which, when the Saviour sought to shield
The heart from blank despair,
He show'd to our mistrustful kind,
An emblem to the thoughtful mind
Of God's paternal care?—
Not thus I trow; for brighter shine
To the warm skies of Palestine
Those children of the East!
There, when mild autumn's early rain
Descends on parch'd Esdrela's plain,
And Tabor's oak-girt crest;
To the warm skies of Palestine
Those children of the East!
There, when mild autumn's early rain
Descends on parch'd Esdrela's plain,
And Tabor's oak-girt crest;
More frequent than the host of night,
Those earth-born stars, as sages write,
Their brilliant disks unfold;
Fit symbol of imperial state
Their sceptre-seeming forms elate,
And crowns of burnish'd gold.
Those earth-born stars, as sages write,
Their brilliant disks unfold;
Fit symbol of imperial state
Their sceptre-seeming forms elate,
And crowns of burnish'd gold.
But not the less, sweet springtide's flower,
Dost thou display the Maker's power,
His skill and handy-work,
Our western valleys' humbler child,
Where in green nook of woodland wild
Thy modest blossoms lurk.
Dost thou display the Maker's power,
His skill and handy-work,
Our western valleys' humbler child,
Where in green nook of woodland wild
Thy modest blossoms lurk.
What though nor care nor art be thine,
The loom to ply, the thread to twine;
Yet, born to bloom and fade,
Thee too a lovelier robe arrays,
Than e'er in Israel's brightest days
Her wealthiest king array'd.
The loom to ply, the thread to twine;
Yet, born to bloom and fade,
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Than e'er in Israel's brightest days
Her wealthiest king array'd.
Of thy twin leaves the embowed skreen,
Which wraps thee in thy shroud of green;
Thy Eden-breathing smell;
Thy arch'd and purple-vested stem,
Whence pendent many a pearly gem
Displays a milk-white bell;
Which wraps thee in thy shroud of green;
Thy Eden-breathing smell;
Thy arch'd and purple-vested stem,
Whence pendent many a pearly gem
Displays a milk-white bell;
Instinct with life, thy fibrous root,
Which sends from earth the ascending shoot,
As rising from the dead;
And fills thy veins with verdant juice,
Charg'd thy fair blossoms to produce,
And berries scarlet red;
Which sends from earth the ascending shoot,
As rising from the dead;
And fills thy veins with verdant juice,
Charg'd thy fair blossoms to produce,
And berries scarlet red;
The triple cell, the twofold seed,
A ceaseless treasure-house decreed,
Whence aye thy race may grow,
As from creation they have grown,
While Spring shall weave her flowery crown,
Or vernal breezes blow:—
A ceaseless treasure-house decreed,
Whence aye thy race may grow,
As from creation they have grown,
While Spring shall weave her flowery crown,
Or vernal breezes blow:—
Who forms thee thus with unseen hand;
Who at creation gave command,
And will'd thee thus to be,
And keeps thee still in being through
Age after age revolving, who
But the Great God is He?
Who at creation gave command,
And will'd thee thus to be,
And keeps thee still in being through
Age after age revolving, who
But the Great God is He?
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Omnipotent, to work his will;
Wise, who contrives each part to fill
The post to each assign'd;
Still provident, with sleepless care
To keep, to make thee sweet and fair
For man's enjoyment, kind!
Wise, who contrives each part to fill
The post to each assign'd;
Still provident, with sleepless care
To keep, to make thee sweet and fair
For man's enjoyment, kind!
“There is no God,” the senseless say:—
“O God, why cast'st thou us away?”
Of feeble faith and frail
The mourner breathes his anxious thought:—
By thee a better lesson taught,
Sweet Lily of the Vale.
“O God, why cast'st thou us away?”
Of feeble faith and frail
The mourner breathes his anxious thought:—
By thee a better lesson taught,
Sweet Lily of the Vale.
Yes! He, who made and fosters thee,
In reason's eye perforce must be
Of majesty divine:
Nor deems she, that his guardian care
Will He in man's support forbear,
Who thus provides for thine.
In reason's eye perforce must be
Of majesty divine:
Nor deems she, that his guardian care
Will He in man's support forbear,
Who thus provides for thine.
Progress of animation. The pasture variegated with flowers. The Colt. The Hare and Leveret. Insects. Fish. The Corncrake. The Quail
Rekindled by the breath of May:
And ever changing, ever new,
Fresh objects offers to the view
Of Him, whom nature's forms delight,
Each common sound, and smell, and sight.
Along the daisy-powder'd meads,
Prankt with the Crowfoot's golden heads,
179
His yellow keel with sanguine lips,
And the new herbage freshness breathes,
And Plantain's many-blossom'd wreaths
Succinct in imbricated rows
His dark and cluster'd heads inclose,
Like Negro's swarthy temples round
With white and twisted turban bound;
The new-born Colt, so tall and slim
Of form, with tottering length of limb,
Begins his strengthening powers to feel,
To frisk, to skip, to run, to wheel
O'er the smooth sward with leap and bound;
Till, startled by some unknown sound,
(As all is new, and apt alarm
To cherish,) from expected harm
He speeds to seek the refuge tried,
And couches by his mother's side.
Forth tempted by the silent eve
Her form amid the fern to leave,
Where through the livelong day she sate,
As fearful of impending fate,
Steals out the timid Hare to feed.
See her along the hedgerow lead,
The cornfield's dewy ridge along,
And garden turf her sportive young!
Her young about her sports with glee,
As best may youth beseem: but she,
Train'd in sedater course by age,
Perhaps by danger render'd sage,
180
Marks each suspicious sight and sound
With ear erect and backward eye;
Prompt to her refuge-place to fly,
And shroud her in the secret lair,
If living thing her vision scare,
Or rustling breeze or footstep shake
The foliage of the tranquil brake.
On the smooth surface of the clear
Translucent water, where appear,
As in a sheet of silver'd glass,
Revers'd the green and waving grass,
The flow'rs that on the margin rise,
The fleecy clouds and azure skies;
Are countless insect forms at play,
Like bubbles in the sunny ray
Quick glancing. Now behold! they skim,
As if in dance, the rippling brim,
Each other, as by fancy led,
Pursuing, and incessant thread
Now here, now there, by countless ways
The windings of the tangled maze.
So have I seen the skaters glide
In mazes o'er the harden'd tide,
On the bright steel smooth-sliding glance,
And weave the many-mingled dance.
Now from the liquid sport they spring
Aërial, and the filmy wing
To the warm sunshine show, and there
Amid the soft and balmy air
181
Of that unrivall'd dance renew.
Or high in labyrinthine flight,
Above the fir-tree's topmost height
They float in many a tortuous spire:
As when the bramble-kindled fire
Sends forth the column'd smoke to rise
Slow curling 'mid the calm clear skies.
But on the smooth and silvery lake
The fish meanwhile their pastime take.
Now with elastick spring, and steep
Ascent, above the pool they leap,
Intent to catch the fluttering fly
Amid his reckless ecstasy:
And where the waters' face they thrill,
Broke by the plash, the waters still
In widening rings concentrick run,
And curl and sparkle in the sun.
Now plunging down, away they glance
Right forward through the smooth expanse,
And with the bow-shot arrow's speed:
Now dive within the embowering reed,
Or lurk beneath the cavern'd brink;
Where their fring'd flow'rs of white and pink
The spik'd and three-leav'd Bogbeans show:
Than which not England's Naïads know,
Wherewith to braid their flowing hair,
A plant more graceful or more fair.
But hark! as by the cornfield's side,
Where the fresh blades aspiring hide
With wavy folds its furrow'd breast,
The ear what startling sounds arrest!
Perhaps you deem, from fenny bog
You hear the croaking of the frog
Monotonous, afar or nigh
The same untun'd repeated cry.
Again the sound! Now here, now there,
It tempts to follow: but howe'er
Your steps the fleeting cry pursue,
You'll scarce the cause retiring view;
You'll scarce with foot or eye o'ertake
The dark form of the mottled Crake;
As his long legs low-bending pass
Through the high corn, or waving grass,
With body prone; nor dares his wing
Up from the verdant covert spring.
Where the fresh blades aspiring hide
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The ear what startling sounds arrest!
Perhaps you deem, from fenny bog
You hear the croaking of the frog
Monotonous, afar or nigh
The same untun'd repeated cry.
Again the sound! Now here, now there,
It tempts to follow: but howe'er
Your steps the fleeting cry pursue,
You'll scarce the cause retiring view;
You'll scarce with foot or eye o'ertake
The dark form of the mottled Crake;
As his long legs low-bending pass
Through the high corn, or waving grass,
With body prone; nor dares his wing
Up from the verdant covert spring.
Less likely of your aim to fail,
If with loud call the whistling Quail
Attract you, 'mid the bladed wheat
To spread the skilful snare, and cheat
With mimick sounds his amorous ear,
Intent the female's cry to hear.
For now the vernal warmth invites
From Afric's coasts their northward flights;
And prompts to skim on nightly breeze
Sicilian or Biscayan seas.
If with loud call the whistling Quail
Attract you, 'mid the bladed wheat
To spread the skilful snare, and cheat
With mimick sounds his amorous ear,
Intent the female's cry to hear.
For now the vernal warmth invites
From Afric's coasts their northward flights;
And prompts to skim on nightly breeze
Sicilian or Biscayan seas.
Birds continue building. Cuckoo. Her singularity: strange propensities. Reason unable to fathom the mysteries of nature. Referable to the will of the Creator. God unsearchable
And now does universal love
Each feather'd breast to action move:
And on the task of building goes,
And brisk the little builders; those,
Who had erewhile their work begun,
Allur'd by April's showery sun;
And those, their corner-stone to lay
Who waited till the warmer May.
Each feather'd breast to action move:
And on the task of building goes,
And brisk the little builders; those,
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Allur'd by April's showery sun;
And those, their corner-stone to lay
Who waited till the warmer May.
All but the Cuckow! She alone
Nor place of nestling of her own;
Nor brooding toils, nor joy, that flows
From care and love maternal, knows.
Lo, where she scuds across the lea
A homeless waif, from tree to tree!
The little birds her flight pursue
Importunate, as if they knew
Of secret mischief undefin'd
Against the common weal design'd.
So on from tree to tree she flies,
From hedge to hedge, with peering eyes
Inquisitive; intent to watch
Some precinct ill secur'd, and catch
The precious moment when to stop,
And her lone egg unnotic'd drop
In Linnet's, Pippit's, Bunting's dome,
Or chief the Titling's vacant home;
And passing leave the intruder there
Abandon'd to the stranger's care.
Nor place of nestling of her own;
Nor brooding toils, nor joy, that flows
From care and love maternal, knows.
Lo, where she scuds across the lea
A homeless waif, from tree to tree!
The little birds her flight pursue
Importunate, as if they knew
Of secret mischief undefin'd
Against the common weal design'd.
So on from tree to tree she flies,
From hedge to hedge, with peering eyes
Inquisitive; intent to watch
Some precinct ill secur'd, and catch
The precious moment when to stop,
And her lone egg unnotic'd drop
In Linnet's, Pippit's, Bunting's dome,
Or chief the Titling's vacant home;
And passing leave the intruder there
Abandon'd to the stranger's care.
Strange, among creatures prone to prove
The fervour of maternal love,
Should one be found so hard of heart,
As to refuse the mother's part,
To kind affection's natural call
Insensate; yet so wise withal,
To find a step-dame to supply
Her own'd renounc'd maternity!
Strange, that the foster-bird should feel
For one so left a parent's zeal;
Still nurse the intruder in her nest,
Of her own offspring dispossest;
Still toil to feed him with the food
Collected for her proper brood;
Nor know, to size ungainly grown,
The giant monster from her own!
Strange, that alert alone to bear
His foster-dam's maternal care,
The intrusive young should use his power
For mischief in the natal hour;
Prompt from their birthright to displace
His fellows of the adoptive race,
And hurl them o'er the mansion's brim
With hollow'd back and struggling limb;
Fain like the Turk to reign alone,
Nor bear a brother near the throne!
The fervour of maternal love,
Should one be found so hard of heart,
As to refuse the mother's part,
To kind affection's natural call
Insensate; yet so wise withal,
To find a step-dame to supply
Her own'd renounc'd maternity!
184
For one so left a parent's zeal;
Still nurse the intruder in her nest,
Of her own offspring dispossest;
Still toil to feed him with the food
Collected for her proper brood;
Nor know, to size ungainly grown,
The giant monster from her own!
Strange, that alert alone to bear
His foster-dam's maternal care,
The intrusive young should use his power
For mischief in the natal hour;
Prompt from their birthright to displace
His fellows of the adoptive race,
And hurl them o'er the mansion's brim
With hollow'd back and struggling limb;
Fain like the Turk to reign alone,
Nor bear a brother near the throne!
Yes! curious is the tale and strange!
But Reason, howsoe'er she range
Conjecture's realm to scan the cause,
Perplex'd at length her wing withdraws
From roving in a boundless sky;
Hides with its folds her downcast eye,
Too weak with unassisted sense
To pierce the depths of Providence;
And breathes the meek and lowly thought,
It is a work which God hath wrought!
But Reason, howsoe'er she range
Conjecture's realm to scan the cause,
Perplex'd at length her wing withdraws
From roving in a boundless sky;
Hides with its folds her downcast eye,
Too weak with unassisted sense
To pierce the depths of Providence;
And breathes the meek and lowly thought,
It is a work which God hath wrought!
Such thought the mind will oft present
To those on harmless pastime bent,
Or knowledge, who their ears and eyes
Expand to nature's mysteries.
Yes, mysteries! For nature's range
Throughout mysterious is and strange:
Though, often seen, things lose their force,
And seem as if of common course.
But they, who seek the depths to sound,
Wherewith those common things abound;
And onward go from what they see,
To question “How can such things be?”
Must oft be satisfied to bear
For answer, ev'n that such things are:
Are by his pleasure, who assign'd
Their laws to each created kind,
Whose will his unform'd works obey'd,
Who spake the word, and they were made.
Then who the Universal Cause,
Save as his word the veil withdraws,
And deigns his lineaments to show,
Who the Great Cause can seek to know?
Who, fathom'd by his shallow mind,
The Almighty to perfection find,
How deep, how high, how long, how broad?
Who can “by searching find out God ?”
To those on harmless pastime bent,
Or knowledge, who their ears and eyes
Expand to nature's mysteries.
185
Throughout mysterious is and strange:
Though, often seen, things lose their force,
And seem as if of common course.
But they, who seek the depths to sound,
Wherewith those common things abound;
And onward go from what they see,
To question “How can such things be?”
Must oft be satisfied to bear
For answer, ev'n that such things are:
Are by his pleasure, who assign'd
Their laws to each created kind,
Whose will his unform'd works obey'd,
Who spake the word, and they were made.
Then who the Universal Cause,
Save as his word the veil withdraws,
And deigns his lineaments to show,
Who the Great Cause can seek to know?
Who, fathom'd by his shallow mind,
The Almighty to perfection find,
How deep, how high, how long, how broad?
Who can “by searching find out God ?”
Few birds now begin building. House or Chimney Swallow. Martlet. Sand Martin. Their actuating impulse. The Swift. Late arrival. Circumstances of nestling. Peculiar velocity. Patience in brooding. Each their law of nature. Nature's law the Creator's will
Of the plum'd architects but few
Now first their building cares pursue.
Chief of the few, the long-wing'd race,
Varying in form, and skill, and place.
Now first their building cares pursue.
Chief of the few, the long-wing'd race,
Varying in form, and skill, and place.
Recruited from her distant flight,
And urg'd by memory's fond delight
In the lov'd haunt, which erst she knew,
To plant her mansionry anew,
The Swallow forms herself a nest,
Where she may lodge her fostering breast,
And rear her young: a tube-like bed,
In steeple, barn, or straw-built shed;
Or where the steep ascending shaft
Forms for the smoke a straiten'd draft,
Sooth'd by the warmth of neighbouring flame,
And safe beyond the owlet's aim.
And urg'd by memory's fond delight
186
To plant her mansionry anew,
The Swallow forms herself a nest,
Where she may lodge her fostering breast,
And rear her young: a tube-like bed,
In steeple, barn, or straw-built shed;
Or where the steep ascending shaft
Forms for the smoke a straiten'd draft,
Sooth'd by the warmth of neighbouring flame,
And safe beyond the owlet's aim.
But on the sea-cliff's breezy face,
The Martlet for her nestling place,
(The Martlet with her breast of white,
And building with the dawning light,
That so her home of pendent clay
May harden with the sunny day,)
Or coign, some jutting ledge below,
Buttress or window, in a row
Of kindred domes each other near,
Suspends her mud-form'd hemisphere.
There waken'd with the wakening ray
She sits, and twittering bids “good day,”
And calls the sluggard forth to shake,
Like her, dull slumber off, and take
His ramble o'er the dewy lawn,
And taste the freshness of the dawn.
The Martlet for her nestling place,
(The Martlet with her breast of white,
And building with the dawning light,
That so her home of pendent clay
May harden with the sunny day,)
Or coign, some jutting ledge below,
Buttress or window, in a row
Of kindred domes each other near,
Suspends her mud-form'd hemisphere.
There waken'd with the wakening ray
She sits, and twittering bids “good day,”
And calls the sluggard forth to shake,
Like her, dull slumber off, and take
His ramble o'er the dewy lawn,
And taste the freshness of the dawn.
Their chambers in the cavern'd sand,
With rival depth of foresight plann'd,
And wrought with rival workmanship,
Close clinging to the surface steep,
The smaller Martins delve: with bill,
Like pick-axe sharp, the hill-side drill;
With body, like a compass, trace,
Slow wheeling round, the intended space,
The burrow's future bore; with claw
Abroad, as with a shovel, draw
The loosen'd sand, that so may lie,
Safe in that winding gallery,
On artless nest the expected brood;
Nor in their high and strait abode
Feel from above the incursive flight
Of kestrel, or rapacious kite;
Or keen assault of climbing foe,
Weasel, or prowling stoat below.
With rival depth of foresight plann'd,
And wrought with rival workmanship,
Close clinging to the surface steep,
The smaller Martins delve: with bill,
Like pick-axe sharp, the hill-side drill;
187
Slow wheeling round, the intended space,
The burrow's future bore; with claw
Abroad, as with a shovel, draw
The loosen'd sand, that so may lie,
Safe in that winding gallery,
On artless nest the expected brood;
Nor in their high and strait abode
Feel from above the incursive flight
Of kestrel, or rapacious kite;
Or keen assault of climbing foe,
Weasel, or prowling stoat below.
What bids these birds of kindred race,
Each in its own appropriate place,
Each with its own appropriate aim,
Contrivance, skill, their mansions frame?
What but the voice, in distant climes
Which bids them know the appointed times
And seasons, hitherward to come,
And find with us their summer home?
“The still small voice,” whose warnings reach,
Apart from utter'd sound or speech,
In silence to the listening mind:
And plainer than the vollied wind,
That rends the mountain, breaks the rock,
Than lightning flame, or earthquake's shock,
As once to Israel's doubting seer,
Proclaims that nature's God is here!
Each in its own appropriate place,
Each with its own appropriate aim,
Contrivance, skill, their mansions frame?
What but the voice, in distant climes
Which bids them know the appointed times
And seasons, hitherward to come,
And find with us their summer home?
“The still small voice,” whose warnings reach,
Apart from utter'd sound or speech,
In silence to the listening mind:
And plainer than the vollied wind,
That rends the mountain, breaks the rock,
Than lightning flame, or earthquake's shock,
As once to Israel's doubting seer,
Proclaims that nature's God is here!
See too, arriv'd from Asia's lands
Remote, or Afric's southern sands,
Whether in April's closing day,
Or in the prime of newborn May,
At once without delay or rest
The Swift begins to build her nest,
Her eggs to lay, her young to rear.
No time has she for loitering here;
Among the last our shores to find,
Though fleeter than the wings of wind;
Impatient o'er the severing sea
Among the first our shores to flee.
Remote, or Afric's southern sands,
188
Or in the prime of newborn May,
At once without delay or rest
The Swift begins to build her nest,
Her eggs to lay, her young to rear.
No time has she for loitering here;
Among the last our shores to find,
Though fleeter than the wings of wind;
Impatient o'er the severing sea
Among the first our shores to flee.
So to the task their race to breed
At once without repose they speed:
In some tall castle's crannied roof,
Or tow'r, or tapering spire aloof,
With grass and feathers, as they fly,
Swept from the ground, while hurrying by
They stoop the wing, afraid to light
By purpose from their airy flight,
Lest the short leg and lengthen'd wing
Should let them from the upward spring.
Thus hurrying on with ceaseless haste
They form their rustick dwellings placed
Above the earth's dull surface high,
Pleas'd inmates of the vaulted sky.
And there the patient female keeps
From morn till night; while near her sweeps
Her sable partner round and round,
With oft-repeated squeaking sound,
Of watchful love a serenade,
By gentler notes within repaid.
Till, as the evening waxes late,
A few brief minutes for his mate
Suffice to quit the future brood;
To snatch in haste her scanty food;
And stretch the cramp'd and wearied limb.
Then in the shade of twilight dim,
Together to the wonted height
The faithful partners speed their flight,
And the short night together rest
Incumbent on the cherish'd nest.
At once without repose they speed:
In some tall castle's crannied roof,
Or tow'r, or tapering spire aloof,
With grass and feathers, as they fly,
Swept from the ground, while hurrying by
They stoop the wing, afraid to light
By purpose from their airy flight,
Lest the short leg and lengthen'd wing
Should let them from the upward spring.
Thus hurrying on with ceaseless haste
They form their rustick dwellings placed
Above the earth's dull surface high,
Pleas'd inmates of the vaulted sky.
And there the patient female keeps
From morn till night; while near her sweeps
Her sable partner round and round,
With oft-repeated squeaking sound,
Of watchful love a serenade,
By gentler notes within repaid.
Till, as the evening waxes late,
A few brief minutes for his mate
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To snatch in haste her scanty food;
And stretch the cramp'd and wearied limb.
Then in the shade of twilight dim,
Together to the wonted height
The faithful partners speed their flight,
And the short night together rest
Incumbent on the cherish'd nest.
Of all the feather'd tribes, that meet,
In crowded city, or retreat
Of rural scenes, the British eye,
What pinion with the Swift's can vie?
As round the tow'rs of antique fame,
Stamp'd with the Roman's storied name,
Or Southwark's ancient-hallow'd pile,
Her Lady-shrine and pillar'd aisle,
They wheel their airy circles fleet,
And thread untouch'd the peopled street:
Or as where Thames irriguous leads
By Chelsea's domes through Fulham's meads
His broad expanse of flood, they skim
With dripping wing the dimpled brim;
Or through the low-brow'd arches glide
That bridge the smooth and swelling tide;
Pursuing keen the frequent fly:
Or screaming mount the azure sky,
Beat with quick strokes the air, or o'er
Heav'n's face with unmov'd pinions soar,
And dare the stretch of Lynceus' sight
To track them through their mazy flight.
In crowded city, or retreat
Of rural scenes, the British eye,
What pinion with the Swift's can vie?
As round the tow'rs of antique fame,
Stamp'd with the Roman's storied name,
Or Southwark's ancient-hallow'd pile,
Her Lady-shrine and pillar'd aisle,
They wheel their airy circles fleet,
And thread untouch'd the peopled street:
Or as where Thames irriguous leads
By Chelsea's domes through Fulham's meads
His broad expanse of flood, they skim
With dripping wing the dimpled brim;
Or through the low-brow'd arches glide
That bridge the smooth and swelling tide;
Pursuing keen the frequent fly:
Or screaming mount the azure sky,
Beat with quick strokes the air, or o'er
Heav'n's face with unmov'd pinions soar,
And dare the stretch of Lynceus' sight
To track them through their mazy flight.
How passing wonder is the gift
Of fleetness to the unrivall'd Swift,
Which, ere a double pulse can beat,
Is here and there, with motion fleet
As Ariel's wing could scarce exceed;
And full of vigour, as of speed,
Forestalls the dayspring's earliest gleam,
Nor fails with evening's latest beam!
Of fleetness to the unrivall'd Swift,
190
Is here and there, with motion fleet
As Ariel's wing could scarce exceed;
And full of vigour, as of speed,
Forestalls the dayspring's earliest gleam,
Nor fails with evening's latest beam!
How passing wonder is the might,
Which on a bird, with pow'rs of flight
So gifted as the Swift, can lay
Injunction through the livelong day,
In life's, in health's, in vigour's prime,
To watch the lazy-footed time,
As if in indolent repose;
The sweeping breadth of wing to close;
Immur'd, inactive sit; nor roam
An instant from her lonely home!
Which on a bird, with pow'rs of flight
So gifted as the Swift, can lay
Injunction through the livelong day,
In life's, in health's, in vigour's prime,
To watch the lazy-footed time,
As if in indolent repose;
The sweeping breadth of wing to close;
Immur'd, inactive sit; nor roam
An instant from her lonely home!
But what is each, the state of rest
Or action, but the law imprest
By nature on the obedient kind?
And what is nature's law, the mind
Instructing, but a silent sign
Perspicuous of the will divine,
The Maker Spirit's high behest,
Who forms the wing, directs the rest;
By whom “the time, the season's given
For every purpose under heaven !”
Or action, but the law imprest
By nature on the obedient kind?
And what is nature's law, the mind
Instructing, but a silent sign
Perspicuous of the will divine,
The Maker Spirit's high behest,
Who forms the wing, directs the rest;
By whom “the time, the season's given
For every purpose under heaven !”
Fly Catchers, why late builders. Coldfinch. Beam-bird or spotted Fly-catcher. The Nightjar, slandered as a Goatsucker. His usefulness. Man heedless of gifts of Providence
What second cause postpones the time,
When, pilgrim from a distant clime,
So late the travell'd Swift prepares
To mingle in domestick cares,
The observant mind may guess: or why
The minor Chaser of the fly,
So late to seek our foreign fields,
So late his summer sojourn builds.
Why in thick bush, or ancient hole
Pierc'd in the dodder'd Ash-tree's bole,
The Coldfinch, clad in vesture pied,
By crystal Ulle's romantick side,
Or Windermere's steep wooded glades,
Or princely Lowther's castled shades;
Or why the spotted Beam-bird gray,
Not till the merry month of May,
On beam, or hole, or creeping vine
Or sweet-brier wall, begins to twine
His partner's dwelling in our coast
Meridian: where on neighbouring post,
Smooth rail, or leafless branch he sits,
And, as the thoughtless insect flits
Before him, from his watch-tow'r starts,
Swift on his fluttering victim darts
With zig-zag flight, and bears him thence
Back to his favourite eminence;
To take his stated watch anew,
Again with bristly bill pursue
And rapid wing the filmy prey,
And to his wonted haunt convey.
When, pilgrim from a distant clime,
191
To mingle in domestick cares,
The observant mind may guess: or why
The minor Chaser of the fly,
So late to seek our foreign fields,
So late his summer sojourn builds.
Why in thick bush, or ancient hole
Pierc'd in the dodder'd Ash-tree's bole,
The Coldfinch, clad in vesture pied,
By crystal Ulle's romantick side,
Or Windermere's steep wooded glades,
Or princely Lowther's castled shades;
Or why the spotted Beam-bird gray,
Not till the merry month of May,
On beam, or hole, or creeping vine
Or sweet-brier wall, begins to twine
His partner's dwelling in our coast
Meridian: where on neighbouring post,
Smooth rail, or leafless branch he sits,
And, as the thoughtless insect flits
Before him, from his watch-tow'r starts,
Swift on his fluttering victim darts
With zig-zag flight, and bears him thence
Back to his favourite eminence;
To take his stated watch anew,
Again with bristly bill pursue
And rapid wing the filmy prey,
And to his wonted haunt convey.
Or why, when May is well-nigh past,
Of Britain's summer-birds the last
To reach our shores, in waving fern
Or furze, beside some bosky bourn,
Hid from the prying eye of day
Their nestless eggs the Night-jars lay.
Thence issuing forth in evening gloom,
With hiss, and buzz, and solemn hum
As of the spinner's whirling wheel,
Unseen on noiseless wing they steal,
Smooth gliding through the unfann'd air;
With open mouth, and bristly hair
Fringing that cavern wide, prepar'd
To clasp the beetle's mailed shard,
Or circling chase in airy ring
The night-moth's soft and downy wing,
Of Britain's summer-birds the last
To reach our shores, in waving fern
Or furze, beside some bosky bourn,
192
Their nestless eggs the Night-jars lay.
Thence issuing forth in evening gloom,
With hiss, and buzz, and solemn hum
As of the spinner's whirling wheel,
Unseen on noiseless wing they steal,
Smooth gliding through the unfann'd air;
With open mouth, and bristly hair
Fringing that cavern wide, prepar'd
To clasp the beetle's mailed shard,
Or circling chase in airy ring
The night-moth's soft and downy wing,
Much slander'd bird! Though vulgar fame
Traduce, and stamp thee with a name,
Denoting to the goat-herd's care
A wrong, nor dost nor canst thou bear;
Thy flight though few or see or hear
Thy three short months of sojourn here;
We bid thee welcome to our isles!
Not harming us, to us the whiles,
Thou'rt Providence's gift for good,
As hawking for thy nightly food
'Tis thine the peopled air to free
From noxious tenants! And like thee,
How many a blessing God has sent
To man, of good an instrument;
Which, sunk in negligent repose,
Ungracious man nor owns nor knows,
Or dreams with heedless mind, or will
Perverse, an instrument of ill!
Traduce, and stamp thee with a name,
Denoting to the goat-herd's care
A wrong, nor dost nor canst thou bear;
Thy flight though few or see or hear
Thy three short months of sojourn here;
We bid thee welcome to our isles!
Not harming us, to us the whiles,
Thou'rt Providence's gift for good,
As hawking for thy nightly food
'Tis thine the peopled air to free
From noxious tenants! And like thee,
How many a blessing God has sent
To man, of good an instrument;
Which, sunk in negligent repose,
Ungracious man nor owns nor knows,
Or dreams with heedless mind, or will
Perverse, an instrument of ill!
193
Other birds late in building. The Jay. The Partridge. The Goldfinch: his habits and song. Address to the Goldfinch.
Not yet arriv'd, or forc'd to wait
The arrival of their lingering mate,
These wandering birds must needs delay
Their nestling till the later May.
The arrival of their lingering mate,
These wandering birds must needs delay
Their nestling till the later May.
But he, who makes his native wood
Resound his screaming harsh and crude
Continuously the season through;
Though scarce his painted wing you'll view
With sable barr'd, and white, and gray,
And varied crest, the lonely Jay:
And he, who 'mid the native rows
Of his still favourite cornfield chose
Three moons ago his mottled mate,
Her early partner and her late,
The faithful Partridge: why should they
So long their nestling cares delay?
Resound his screaming harsh and crude
Continuously the season through;
Though scarce his painted wing you'll view
With sable barr'd, and white, and gray,
And varied crest, the lonely Jay:
And he, who 'mid the native rows
Of his still favourite cornfield chose
Three moons ago his mottled mate,
Her early partner and her late,
The faithful Partridge: why should they
So long their nestling cares delay?
Thou too, who deck'st the early spring
With glistening of thy golden wing,
From bough to bough in sportive play
Irradiate with the sunny ray,
With sable crown, and frontlet red;
Thou in our thickets born and bred,
And never from thy native home
Allur'd to foreign climes to roam:
Say, pretty Goldfinch, why should'st thou
Forego thy household cares till now?
For ever welcome to thy side
Appear'd thy party-colour'd bride:
And still at hand, whereon to lay
Thy dwelling, was the hawthorn spray;
Or elm-tree mantled with the twine
Of briar or twisted eglantine:
Still were at hand, wherewith to mould,
Mosses and bents, thy close-knit hold,
With wool and lichens intertwin'd,
And tufts of downy willow lin'd:
Still was at hand, whereon to feed
Thy young, the spiral fir-tree's seed,
The bank with dandelions spread,
Coltsfoot, or groundsel's yellow head.
Then, pretty Goldfinch, why should'st thou
Forego thy household cares till now;
Abroad a licens'd wanderer roam,
Nor plan till now thy felted home?
With glistening of thy golden wing,
From bough to bough in sportive play
Irradiate with the sunny ray,
With sable crown, and frontlet red;
Thou in our thickets born and bred,
And never from thy native home
Allur'd to foreign climes to roam:
Say, pretty Goldfinch, why should'st thou
Forego thy household cares till now?
For ever welcome to thy side
Appear'd thy party-colour'd bride:
And still at hand, whereon to lay
Thy dwelling, was the hawthorn spray;
Or elm-tree mantled with the twine
Of briar or twisted eglantine:
194
Mosses and bents, thy close-knit hold,
With wool and lichens intertwin'd,
And tufts of downy willow lin'd:
Still was at hand, whereon to feed
Thy young, the spiral fir-tree's seed,
The bank with dandelions spread,
Coltsfoot, or groundsel's yellow head.
Then, pretty Goldfinch, why should'st thou
Forego thy household cares till now;
Abroad a licens'd wanderer roam,
Nor plan till now thy felted home?
Howe'er it be, for darkling still
And fathomless the Maker's will,
And oft the inquiring mind to try
More apt, than minister reply;
Thy female see her wing of gold
Now o'er thy peerless nest unfold
With zeal that wearies not; while thou,
Perch'd on the Apple's blossom'd bough,
Dost sweetly with love-dittied song
Help the slow-pacing hours along.
And fathomless the Maker's will,
And oft the inquiring mind to try
More apt, than minister reply;
Thy female see her wing of gold
Now o'er thy peerless nest unfold
With zeal that wearies not; while thou,
Perch'd on the Apple's blossom'd bough,
Dost sweetly with love-dittied song
Help the slow-pacing hours along.
Sing, pretty bird! Though bright and gay
The colours of thy plum'd array,
More gay and bright than often own
The natives of our temperate zone;
To thee the spriteliness belong
And sweetness of the vernal song,
Such as not oft the brilliant dies
Can boast, illum'd by tropick skies.
The colours of thy plum'd array,
More gay and bright than often own
The natives of our temperate zone;
To thee the spriteliness belong
And sweetness of the vernal song,
Such as not oft the brilliant dies
Can boast, illum'd by tropick skies.
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Sing, pretty bird! Thy spritely lay
And sweet, thy plumage bright and gay,
Thy manners gentle, docile, mild,
Oft tempt us from thy native wild,
From feeding on the thistle's down,
To bear thee to the dingy town,
And there thy captive form include
In the lone cage's solitude.
And sweet, thy plumage bright and gay,
Thy manners gentle, docile, mild,
Oft tempt us from thy native wild,
From feeding on the thistle's down,
To bear thee to the dingy town,
And there thy captive form include
In the lone cage's solitude.
Sing, pretty bird! Though captive, sing;
Prune with sharp beak thy shining wing,
With cheerful heart and motion brisk
About thy wiry prison frisk;
Hop on thy mistress' offer'd hand,
Take what she gives with motion bland,
The seed or sugar sweet, and pay
Her bounty with a merry lay.
Prune with sharp beak thy shining wing,
With cheerful heart and motion brisk
About thy wiry prison frisk;
Hop on thy mistress' offer'd hand,
Take what she gives with motion bland,
The seed or sugar sweet, and pay
Her bounty with a merry lay.
Sing, pretty bird! I'd rather see
And hear thee, blythe, alert, and free,
And haunting unrestrain'd at will
The orchard's bloom, the thistly hill:
But since at length the wintry cold
Will come, and earth retentive hold
With frozen grasp the buried seed,
And snow conceal the tufted weed;
And hear thee, blythe, alert, and free,
And haunting unrestrain'd at will
The orchard's bloom, the thistly hill:
But since at length the wintry cold
Will come, and earth retentive hold
With frozen grasp the buried seed,
And snow conceal the tufted weed;
Sing, pretty bird, though captive, sing!
To thee no ill shall winter bring,
As to thy race at liberty,
Cold, want, disease: but thine shall be
The crystal fount, the well-fill'd tray,
And warmth by night, and song by day;
And lengthen'd life and hoary age
Attend thy cheerful hermitage!
To thee no ill shall winter bring,
As to thy race at liberty,
Cold, want, disease: but thine shall be
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And warmth by night, and song by day;
And lengthen'd life and hoary age
Attend thy cheerful hermitage!
Strange variation in instinct. Its effect during incubation, in feeding the young, and bringing them from the nest. Its cessation. Revived for a new brood. Again ceases. Effectual for its purpose. Difference between it and human feelings. Parental and filial affection. Domestick union and happiness
How wonderful the instinctive power,
Which, varying with the varying hour,
Far as the occasion calls, extends;
And, when attain'd its destin'd ends,
Surceases: till reviving need
Prompts it again its part decreed
With renovated force to play,
Again to stop, again decay!
Which, varying with the varying hour,
Far as the occasion calls, extends;
And, when attain'd its destin'd ends,
Surceases: till reviving need
Prompts it again its part decreed
With renovated force to play,
Again to stop, again decay!
See, couch'd upon her pregnant nest,
The mother bird with fostering breast,
And hovering plumes extended, sits;
And scarce her charge tenacious quits,
Save with impatient haste to steal
From neighbouring fields the needful meal!
So nature prompts her: lest bereft
Of procreative warmth, and left
Unshelter'd, the intrusive air
The vivifying spark impair,
And the corrupted embryo dwell
Abortive in the torpid shell.
The mother bird with fostering breast,
And hovering plumes extended, sits;
And scarce her charge tenacious quits,
Save with impatient haste to steal
From neighbouring fields the needful meal!
So nature prompts her: lest bereft
Of procreative warmth, and left
Unshelter'd, the intrusive air
The vivifying spark impair,
And the corrupted embryo dwell
Abortive in the torpid shell.
So sits she: till the star of night,
Which first with rim of silver light
Survey'd her sitting, hath fulfill'd
The circlet of the waxing shield,
And hastens on with gradual wane
To trim the silver rim again.
Which first with rim of silver light
Survey'd her sitting, hath fulfill'd
The circlet of the waxing shield,
And hastens on with gradual wane
To trim the silver rim again.
197
The brood is hatch'd. Behold her still,
To guard her young from breezes chill
And drenching raindrops, cowering fling
Above the nest the brooding wing,
Fed by the male's assiduous care!
Behold her next his labour share,
And for their nurslings day by day,
And hour by hour, the meal purvey;
And to and fro, abroad, at home,
Now go, and now returning come,
With grain, or worm, or insect food,
To gratify the craving brood!
To all in turns, howe'er comprest
Within the crowded clamorous nest;
To all, howe'er, with gaping beak,
And outstretch'd neck, and cry, they seek
Importunate the food to reach;
To all attentive, and to each,
Behold her still the dole bestow,
And none o'erfeed, and none forego!
To guard her young from breezes chill
And drenching raindrops, cowering fling
Above the nest the brooding wing,
Fed by the male's assiduous care!
Behold her next his labour share,
And for their nurslings day by day,
And hour by hour, the meal purvey;
And to and fro, abroad, at home,
Now go, and now returning come,
With grain, or worm, or insect food,
To gratify the craving brood!
To all in turns, howe'er comprest
Within the crowded clamorous nest;
To all, howe'er, with gaping beak,
And outstretch'd neck, and cry, they seek
Importunate the food to reach;
To all attentive, and to each,
Behold her still the dole bestow,
And none o'erfeed, and none forego!
Then, when the downy texture thin
Has deepen'd on the callow skin,
And the soft yielding pens assume
The firmness of the bearded plume,
And the broad van and pinion strong
Have now equipp'd the well-fledg'd young
To float upon the liquid air;
Behold her, with maternal care,
Conduct the yet unpractis'd race
Forth from their secret nestling place,
To perch upon the neighbouring edge
Of sloping roof, or window ledge,
Or bush, or branch of spreading tree,
Their native homestead's canopy!
Behold her there about them flit;
And tempt with voice and act to quit
Their station on the airy height;
Spread their fresh plumage for the flight;
On balanc'd wings the leap essay,
And follow where she leads the way!
Has deepen'd on the callow skin,
And the soft yielding pens assume
The firmness of the bearded plume,
And the broad van and pinion strong
Have now equipp'd the well-fledg'd young
To float upon the liquid air;
Behold her, with maternal care,
Conduct the yet unpractis'd race
Forth from their secret nestling place,
To perch upon the neighbouring edge
Of sloping roof, or window ledge,
198
Their native homestead's canopy!
Behold her there about them flit;
And tempt with voice and act to quit
Their station on the airy height;
Spread their fresh plumage for the flight;
On balanc'd wings the leap essay,
And follow where she leads the way!
'Tis done! Though many a fearful pause
The half-spread fluttering wing withdraws;
Though piteous cries of terror weak
The trembling breast's reluctance speak;
'Tis done! They tempt the daring flight,
And revel in the new delight.
But frail the link, that now inchains
The scattering race. For nature trains,
Or soon shall train the youngling brood
To ramble, as they will, for food;
To hunt amid the blossom'd weed
For ripening fruit or unctuous seed;
Or chase the worm, the gnat, the fly,
Untutor'd through the earth and sky.
The half-spread fluttering wing withdraws;
Though piteous cries of terror weak
The trembling breast's reluctance speak;
'Tis done! They tempt the daring flight,
And revel in the new delight.
But frail the link, that now inchains
The scattering race. For nature trains,
Or soon shall train the youngling brood
To ramble, as they will, for food;
To hunt amid the blossom'd weed
For ripening fruit or unctuous seed;
Or chase the worm, the gnat, the fly,
Untutor'd through the earth and sky.
But where is now the instinctive care,
Which bade the anxious parent dare
Seclusion, hunger, toil, fatigue?
'Tis gone: unless the nuptial league
Renew'd incite her to pursue
Her late solicitudes anew;
Again seclusion, toil embrace,
Fatigue, and hunger, for a race,
Which, like the former, left alone,
Disown'd itself, shall soon disown
The tie parental, nor retain
Remembrance of that pristine chain,
Completely rent, as if no share
They witness'd of parental care.
Which bade the anxious parent dare
Seclusion, hunger, toil, fatigue?
'Tis gone: unless the nuptial league
Renew'd incite her to pursue
Her late solicitudes anew;
Again seclusion, toil embrace,
Fatigue, and hunger, for a race,
Which, like the former, left alone,
Disown'd itself, shall soon disown
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Remembrance of that pristine chain,
Completely rent, as if no share
They witness'd of parental care.
Thus nature prompts them to fulfil
The Universal Parent's will
By instinct's powerful voice, design'd
To propagate and keep the kind
In being: but, that end attain'd,
For objects, which triumphant reign'd
Of late, affection's sluices close;
Of those forgot, forgetting those,
On whom, concenter'd in the nest,
Their little world appear'd to rest.
The Universal Parent's will
By instinct's powerful voice, design'd
To propagate and keep the kind
In being: but, that end attain'd,
For objects, which triumphant reign'd
Of late, affection's sluices close;
Of those forgot, forgetting those,
On whom, concenter'd in the nest,
Their little world appear'd to rest.
How different from the moral sense,
With reason link'd, which Providence
Has with the natural feelings mix'd
Of kindred tenderness; and fix'd
In man, to teach the human heart
The filial and parental part!
With reason link'd, which Providence
Has with the natural feelings mix'd
Of kindred tenderness; and fix'd
In man, to teach the human heart
The filial and parental part!
Hence of the parent for the child
Affections holy, undefil'd
By aught of earthy mixture reign:
Hence of the duteous child again
Kind feelings animate the breast,
And on the honour'd parent rest:
Not soon to languish and decay
With helpless childhood's early day!
But still, in every gradual stage
Of life's eventful pilgrimage,
Matur'd, and moulded to the form
Of mutual friendship, bright and warm,
In both reigns sympathy benign:
In each with its peculiar sign,
Here of superior goodness kind,
There with respectful deference join'd;
As best beseems the several spheres
Of greener and maturer years;
As best, what best each several name
Of parent and of child may claim.
Affections holy, undefil'd
By aught of earthy mixture reign:
Hence of the duteous child again
Kind feelings animate the breast,
And on the honour'd parent rest:
Not soon to languish and decay
With helpless childhood's early day!
But still, in every gradual stage
Of life's eventful pilgrimage,
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Of mutual friendship, bright and warm,
In both reigns sympathy benign:
In each with its peculiar sign,
Here of superior goodness kind,
There with respectful deference join'd;
As best beseems the several spheres
Of greener and maturer years;
As best, what best each several name
Of parent and of child may claim.
Nor fairer boon does God bestow,
To heighten bliss, and soften woe,
Than when in mutual friendship's bands,
Attemper'd by his own commands,
The mother with her daughters runs
Her course, the father with his sons:
And all the grateful interchange
Of kindness, suited to their range
Reciprocal of duty, prove,
A happy family of love;
Love, which enlivens all the year,
Can every passing season cheer
With joy that feels not time's decay,
And make of every month a May!
To heighten bliss, and soften woe,
Than when in mutual friendship's bands,
Attemper'd by his own commands,
The mother with her daughters runs
Her course, the father with his sons:
And all the grateful interchange
Of kindness, suited to their range
Reciprocal of duty, prove,
A happy family of love;
Love, which enlivens all the year,
Can every passing season cheer
With joy that feels not time's decay,
And make of every month a May!
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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
204
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
205
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,
206
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
207
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,
208
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;
209
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
211
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;
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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,
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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
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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
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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,
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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;
241
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.
242
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
243
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.”
249
JULY.
Origin of the name. Nearly equal division of the summer and year. Place of the setting sun. Feeling that attends the reflexion. Cause of such feeling. Past pleasure and future evil. Thankful enjoyment of present good
'Tis bright July. The fleeting year
Has half fulfill'd its just career.
And from the imperial Roman named,
Whose care from varying length reclaim'd
And caus'd the year its race to run
Commensurate with the ruling sun,
And gave each month, in course inroll'd,
The space, which now it holds, to hold:—
From Julius named, the bright July,
First of the second moiety,
To take his post assign'd prepares:
And at his start two equal shares
Well nigh the summer's glowing tide,
More near the annual round divide.
Has half fulfill'd its just career.
And from the imperial Roman named,
Whose care from varying length reclaim'd
And caus'd the year its race to run
Commensurate with the ruling sun,
And gave each month, in course inroll'd,
The space, which now it holds, to hold:—
From Julius named, the bright July,
First of the second moiety,
To take his post assign'd prepares:
And at his start two equal shares
Well nigh the summer's glowing tide,
More near the annual round divide.
'Tis bright July. The orb of light
Hath reach'd on yon north-western height,
Or ere he sets, the selfsame goal,
The selfsame station tow'rd the pole,
First won a few brief nights ago!
Why is it, though as rich a glow
Grace now, as then, that glorious sky;
Though deck'd with “all the quality,
Pride, pomp, and circumstance ,” that late
Attended on his regal state;
Seem we with less unmix'd delight
To ponder that illumin'd height?
Why seems a sort of shadowy veil
In the mind's eye to rise, and sail
Contiguous, and the scene imbue
With somewhat of a sombre hue?
Hath reach'd on yon north-western height,
Or ere he sets, the selfsame goal,
The selfsame station tow'rd the pole,
First won a few brief nights ago!
Why is it, though as rich a glow
Grace now, as then, that glorious sky;
Though deck'd with “all the quality,
Pride, pomp, and circumstance ,” that late
Attended on his regal state;
250
To ponder that illumin'd height?
Why seems a sort of shadowy veil
In the mind's eye to rise, and sail
Contiguous, and the scene imbue
With somewhat of a sombre hue?
'Tis that the mind, from present good
Abstracted, in her fitful mood
Bethinks her, that meanwhile the sun
Has of his annual circles run
Most northward his celestial race:
And day by day, at first of space
So small that scarce the casual eye
Is prompt the difference to descry,
Contracts more near the east and west
His place of rising and of rest;
Sinking withal his noonday arch,
And hastening by his daily march
At later dawn, and speedier night,
To shorten his career of light:—
That he, who lately held his way
With pomp augmented day by day,
Now day by day forbears to urge
His wheels to so remote a verge,
Curtail'd of his solstitial strength,
And nightless splendour; till at length
By slow but sure degrees the day
Shall share with night but equal sway,
Then yield with vanquish'd beams the room
To dark midwinter's lengthen'd gloom.
Abstracted, in her fitful mood
Bethinks her, that meanwhile the sun
Has of his annual circles run
Most northward his celestial race:
And day by day, at first of space
So small that scarce the casual eye
Is prompt the difference to descry,
Contracts more near the east and west
His place of rising and of rest;
Sinking withal his noonday arch,
And hastening by his daily march
At later dawn, and speedier night,
To shorten his career of light:—
That he, who lately held his way
With pomp augmented day by day,
Now day by day forbears to urge
His wheels to so remote a verge,
Curtail'd of his solstitial strength,
And nightless splendour; till at length
By slow but sure degrees the day
Shall share with night but equal sway,
Then yield with vanquish'd beams the room
To dark midwinter's lengthen'd gloom.
It seems a feeling, to the mind
Congenial of our anxious kind,
On scenes of cherish'd pleasure past
A longing lingering look to cast
Regretful, and with fearful glance
Forestall the future scene's advance.
More wise are they, the blessings given
Who take with thanks to bounteous heaven,
Content with Providence's plan;
Nor while remoter scenes they scan
With forward or reverted eyes,
Perverse the present good despise!
More wise, who now the bright July
Enjoy with thankful hearts, nor sigh,
While back their thoughts recurring stray
To past delights of June or May;
Nor with presageful thought forestall
Distrest the equinoctial squall,
Which strews the autumnal leaves; or storm,
That shakes cold winter's naked form!
Congenial of our anxious kind,
251
A longing lingering look to cast
Regretful, and with fearful glance
Forestall the future scene's advance.
More wise are they, the blessings given
Who take with thanks to bounteous heaven,
Content with Providence's plan;
Nor while remoter scenes they scan
With forward or reverted eyes,
Perverse the present good despise!
More wise, who now the bright July
Enjoy with thankful hearts, nor sigh,
While back their thoughts recurring stray
To past delights of June or May;
Nor with presageful thought forestall
Distrest the equinoctial squall,
Which strews the autumnal leaves; or storm,
That shakes cold winter's naked form!
Magnificence of the sky under various aspects: particularly in summer evenings. The little cloud foreboding a storm. Approach of the storm. Thunder Storm. Attendant feelings of awe and fear.
And when shall vision of delight
Greet, if not now, the raptur'd sight?
Whether the sun unclouded hide
His aspect in the glass-like tide,
While his rich beams their lustre throw
O'er skies above, and sea below,
And sea and sky together hold
United in one flood of gold:—
Whether, about his place of rest,
The clouds in thousand liveries drest
Their rainbow-painted colours blend;
Or in a fleecy pile ascend
Of Alp-like masses snowy white,
Edg'd with a fringe of golden light;
Or in broad fragments through the air
Slow floating, shapes romantick wear,
Picturing, by ever varying change,
Whate'er within her ample range
Creative nature's realm contains,
And fiction's plastick fancy feigns;
Or the bright flood of splendour break
With feathery fan, or tissued streak,
Or motley rows of fishlike scale;
Or upward soar with thinner veil
And thinner, till they melt from sight
Lost in blue air and liquid light:—
Scarce from her magazine of fair,
And grand, and wonderful, and rare,
Does nature's round a sight supply
More beauteous than the drapery,
Wherewith yon goodly cope is hung:
More beauteous never, than among
The evening gleams of summer skies,
When all the rich diversities
Of light, and shade, and iris hues,
And forms detach'd, combin'd, diffuse
O'er heav'n's serene and glowing face
A prodigality of grace.
Greet, if not now, the raptur'd sight?
Whether the sun unclouded hide
His aspect in the glass-like tide,
While his rich beams their lustre throw
O'er skies above, and sea below,
And sea and sky together hold
United in one flood of gold:—
Whether, about his place of rest,
The clouds in thousand liveries drest
Their rainbow-painted colours blend;
Or in a fleecy pile ascend
252
Edg'd with a fringe of golden light;
Or in broad fragments through the air
Slow floating, shapes romantick wear,
Picturing, by ever varying change,
Whate'er within her ample range
Creative nature's realm contains,
And fiction's plastick fancy feigns;
Or the bright flood of splendour break
With feathery fan, or tissued streak,
Or motley rows of fishlike scale;
Or upward soar with thinner veil
And thinner, till they melt from sight
Lost in blue air and liquid light:—
Scarce from her magazine of fair,
And grand, and wonderful, and rare,
Does nature's round a sight supply
More beauteous than the drapery,
Wherewith yon goodly cope is hung:
More beauteous never, than among
The evening gleams of summer skies,
When all the rich diversities
Of light, and shade, and iris hues,
And forms detach'd, combin'd, diffuse
O'er heav'n's serene and glowing face
A prodigality of grace.
Then more majestically grand,
If seaward “like a human hand,”
Far in the horizontal skies
“A little cloud appear to rise,”
White as the virgin snow-wreath spread
Untouch'd on Alpine mountain's head:
Alone in that cerulean scene,
When not a breath the calm serene
Disturbs, nor spot nor speck beside
Defiles the azure concave wide.
If seaward “like a human hand,”
Far in the horizontal skies
“A little cloud appear to rise,”
White as the virgin snow-wreath spread
Untouch'd on Alpine mountain's head:
253
When not a breath the calm serene
Disturbs, nor spot nor speck beside
Defiles the azure concave wide.
Such cloud from Carmel's height of old
From the Great Sea was seen unfold,
When drought o'er broad Esdrela's plain
Held the parch'd brooks, its blackening train,
Indicative to Israel's seer
Of storm and rain approaching near .
Such cloud beneath our western skies,
To the skill'd sailor's wary eyes,
As from the sea it peers, though fair
The day, and pure and bright the air,
Portends beneath the illusive form
The gathering of the summer storm.
From the Great Sea was seen unfold,
When drought o'er broad Esdrela's plain
Held the parch'd brooks, its blackening train,
Indicative to Israel's seer
Of storm and rain approaching near .
Such cloud beneath our western skies,
To the skill'd sailor's wary eyes,
As from the sea it peers, though fair
The day, and pure and bright the air,
Portends beneath the illusive form
The gathering of the summer storm.
Now upward, onward, through heaven's arch
That “little cloud” its gradual marcii
Holds statefully; and, as it goes,
Large, and more large, and larger grows,
Still steering windward, and the glance
Reflecting on its slow advance
Of the bright sun-beams: till the “hand,”
In size so seem'd it, wide expand
A curtain o'er the waning sky:
And in its course the sun more nigh,
Here dark with inky blackness; there
Like furnace-smoke of murky glare;
Tipt with his light, its wave-like cove
There curling forward from above;
At length ingulph'd the orb of light
It swallows in meridian night.
That “little cloud” its gradual marcii
Holds statefully; and, as it goes,
Large, and more large, and larger grows,
Still steering windward, and the glance
Reflecting on its slow advance
Of the bright sun-beams: till the “hand,”
In size so seem'd it, wide expand
A curtain o'er the waning sky:
And in its course the sun more nigh,
Here dark with inky blackness; there
Like furnace-smoke of murky glare;
Tipt with his light, its wave-like cove
There curling forward from above;
254
It swallows in meridian night.
Then comes the aerial warfare! Keen
And bright, the rifted clouds between,
As if the welkin were on fire,
With sheeted blaze, or forked spire
Acute, the lightning's vollied flash:—
The mutter'd growl, the roar, the crash,
Like some high beetling fort o'erthrown
And toppled headlong, stone on stone,
Peal after peal, from the echoing sky
Discharg'd, of heaven's artillery,
And roll succeeding roll: with crush
Etherial and the downward rush
Of torrent rain, as if were riven
Anew the floodgates of high heaven.
And bright, the rifted clouds between,
As if the welkin were on fire,
With sheeted blaze, or forked spire
Acute, the lightning's vollied flash:—
The mutter'd growl, the roar, the crash,
Like some high beetling fort o'erthrown
And toppled headlong, stone on stone,
Peal after peal, from the echoing sky
Discharg'd, of heaven's artillery,
And roll succeeding roll: with crush
Etherial and the downward rush
Of torrent rain, as if were riven
Anew the floodgates of high heaven.
'Tis not without a thrilling sense,
At nature's dread magnificence,
Of solemn awe, akin to fear,
Of fear perhaps itself, we hear
And see the tempest's startling sound!
Signs of such mighty power astound
And cause the staggering mind to reel,
Smit by the unnerving shock, and feel
Its own small strength appearing less,
By contrast with that mightiness:
Mix'd with alarm, lest what it knows
By sad experiment to those,
Who haply meet its sweepy sway,
So free from all escape or stay,
So full of peril and affright,
Should on its own frail dwelling light!
At nature's dread magnificence,
Of solemn awe, akin to fear,
Of fear perhaps itself, we hear
And see the tempest's startling sound!
Signs of such mighty power astound
And cause the staggering mind to reel,
Smit by the unnerving shock, and feel
Its own small strength appearing less,
By contrast with that mightiness:
Mix'd with alarm, lest what it knows
By sad experiment to those,
Who haply meet its sweepy sway,
So free from all escape or stay,
So full of peril and affright,
Should on its own frail dwelling light!
255
Disastrous effects. A storm at Malvern in 1826. A young party of friends overtaken by it. Its effects. The Knell
Ah, hapless they, expos'd to bide,
On the lone heath, or forest-side,
Or mountain shelterless and drear,
The pelting of such storm severe!
More hapless, if unwise they seek
A shelter insecure and weak,
To the frail cot or leafy wood
By that relentless storm pursued!
On the lone heath, or forest-side,
Or mountain shelterless and drear,
The pelting of such storm severe!
More hapless, if unwise they seek
A shelter insecure and weak,
To the frail cot or leafy wood
By that relentless storm pursued!
Such haples lot 'twas theirs to prove,
A friendly band, in league of love
United, by the halcyon day
Allur'd in joyousness to stray,
Where Malvern's beacon-crested crown
Here looks on ridgy woodlands down,
Orchards with blushing fruitage stor'd,
And mountain zone of Hereford;
There on fair Worcester's pastur'd leas,
And, bosom'd in the tufted trees,
Of antique grace the village fane,
The lordly abbot's whilome reign.
Pure was the air, the day was bright,
As form'd for joyance and delight:
In joyance and delight they climb,
In health's fresh bloom and youthful prime,
The zigzag path's slow mountain way,
And o'er the grassy greensward stray.
Sudden, black clouds involve the sky:
The storm's at hand: alarm'd they fly
To yon lone hut, their sole defence,
The gift of kind beneficence
To those who on the mountain's crest
Might seek the wearied limb to rest,
Or with rich view of hill and mead
Below the wandering eyesight feed.
A friendly band, in league of love
United, by the halcyon day
Allur'd in joyousness to stray,
Where Malvern's beacon-crested crown
Here looks on ridgy woodlands down,
Orchards with blushing fruitage stor'd,
And mountain zone of Hereford;
There on fair Worcester's pastur'd leas,
And, bosom'd in the tufted trees,
Of antique grace the village fane,
The lordly abbot's whilome reign.
Pure was the air, the day was bright,
As form'd for joyance and delight:
In joyance and delight they climb,
In health's fresh bloom and youthful prime,
The zigzag path's slow mountain way,
And o'er the grassy greensward stray.
Sudden, black clouds involve the sky:
The storm's at hand: alarm'd they fly
To yon lone hut, their sole defence,
The gift of kind beneficence
To those who on the mountain's crest
Might seek the wearied limb to rest,
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Below the wandering eyesight feed.
O'erjoy'd they hail the welcome seat:
They sit: they hear the tempest beat,
As fiercer and more fierce it grows.
Exulting in their safe repose,
They hear the thunder's rattling sound;
Far off along the flaming ground
They see the fire careering run:—
But whither?—Ask no more: 'tis done,—
What heart can hear, nor hearing bleed?—
The piteous, strange, distressful deed!
They sit: they hear the tempest beat,
As fiercer and more fierce it grows.
Exulting in their safe repose,
They hear the thunder's rattling sound;
Far off along the flaming ground
They see the fire careering run:—
But whither?—Ask no more: 'tis done,—
What heart can hear, nor hearing bleed?—
The piteous, strange, distressful deed!
Four youthful forms the tempest caught:
Four youthful forms the refuge sought
Safe reckon'd of that mountain seat:
Forth issuing from their joint retreat,
Two, only two, appear to tell
The story; and to-morrow's knell
Their partners to their kindred earth,
Late full of love, and youth, and mirth,
Ah, lovely now no more! shall trust,
“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust!”
Four youthful forms the refuge sought
Safe reckon'd of that mountain seat:
Forth issuing from their joint retreat,
Two, only two, appear to tell
The story; and to-morrow's knell
Their partners to their kindred earth,
Late full of love, and youth, and mirth,
Ah, lovely now no more! shall trust,
“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust!”
Toll for the Young! through whom hath past
With subtle touch the electrick blast!
The spirits to their God are fled:
Their bodies prostrate lie and dead;
But scarce a spot is there to show
The passage of the fatal blow!
With subtle touch the electrick blast!
The spirits to their God are fled:
Their bodies prostrate lie and dead;
But scarce a spot is there to show
The passage of the fatal blow!
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Toll for the Young! They little knew,
When their lov'd home they bade adieu,
That brief adieu would be the last!—
They little knew, the day, that cast
About their path so clear a light,
Would whelm them in impervious night!
When their lov'd home they bade adieu,
That brief adieu would be the last!—
They little knew, the day, that cast
About their path so clear a light,
Would whelm them in impervious night!
Toll for the Young! Their kindred kind,
Hopes, joys, affections left behind!
Yet was the pang of parting light,
A moment wing'd the spirit's flight;
And scarce, as past the fleeting breath,
They felt “the bitterness of death!”
Hopes, joys, affections left behind!
Yet was the pang of parting light,
A moment wing'd the spirit's flight;
And scarce, as past the fleeting breath,
They felt “the bitterness of death!”
Then rather be the death bell toll'd
For the lost comfort of the old!
For them, whose hearts expecting yearn
To see the chariot wheels return,
Which bore their children on their way,
All youthful, healthful, joyous, gay!
For the lost comfort of the old!
For them, whose hearts expecting yearn
To see the chariot wheels return,
Which bore their children on their way,
All youthful, healthful, joyous, gay!
Alas! along the darken'd road,
Charg'd with its melancholy load,
Soon shall in solemn pomp appear
The plumed hearse, the pall-clad bier.
Toll for the Old! They ne'er shall strain
Their children to their breast again!
Charg'd with its melancholy load,
Soon shall in solemn pomp appear
The plumed hearse, the pall-clad bier.
Toll for the Old! They ne'er shall strain
Their children to their breast again!
God's ways mysterious. His providence certain. How to be acknowledged
Mysterious are the ways of God!
Of them, whose careless footsteps trod
That morning Malvern's beacon'd height,
Why did the visitation light
On that selected party? Why
On these, and pass their fellows by,
Untouch'd, uninjur'd? He, who here
Surveys in memory's mirrour clear
The features of that fatal scene,
The hill, the hut, tbe grassy green,
Traced by his feet the day before,
Again the morrow's eve; the roar
Who heard of that dread thunder's sound,
Who saw the flash that smote the ground,
Safe in yon abbey's shade beneath;
Why did he 'scape the stroke of death?
The fate, which that sad pair befell,
Why does he still survive to tell;
And hang a melancholy verse
In memory on their early herse?
Of them, whose careless footsteps trod
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Why did the visitation light
On that selected party? Why
On these, and pass their fellows by,
Untouch'd, uninjur'd? He, who here
Surveys in memory's mirrour clear
The features of that fatal scene,
The hill, the hut, tbe grassy green,
Traced by his feet the day before,
Again the morrow's eve; the roar
Who heard of that dread thunder's sound,
Who saw the flash that smote the ground,
Safe in yon abbey's shade beneath;
Why did he 'scape the stroke of death?
The fate, which that sad pair befell,
Why does he still survive to tell;
And hang a melancholy verse
In memory on their early herse?
Such mystery 'tis not ours to solve,
Nor pierce the clouds, which oft involve
God's doings! But 'tis ours to own,
Howe'er “his footsteps be not known,
His march amid the sea he keeps,
His pathway 'mid the mighty deeps .”
'Tis ours before his throne to bow;
And own, who made, has knowledge how
To rule his creatures; and to trust
In Him, the good, the wise, the just.
But chief 'tis ours, when death's pale horse,
Wing'd with the vollied lightning's force,
Goes forth, and scatters from his crest
The noontide storm, the midnight pest,
And thousands fall around, beside;
To think on Him, whose feathers hide
Our dwelling from the deadly blast;
To count each menac'd danger past,
Each moment's yet prolong'd delay,
Our day of grace, salvation's day;
On Him in times of need recline,
And still, the more his mercies shine,
The more his bounteous name adore,
And better serve, and love Him more!
Nor pierce the clouds, which oft involve
God's doings! But 'tis ours to own,
Howe'er “his footsteps be not known,
His march amid the sea he keeps,
His pathway 'mid the mighty deeps .”
'Tis ours before his throne to bow;
And own, who made, has knowledge how
To rule his creatures; and to trust
In Him, the good, the wise, the just.
But chief 'tis ours, when death's pale horse,
Wing'd with the vollied lightning's force,
259
The noontide storm, the midnight pest,
And thousands fall around, beside;
To think on Him, whose feathers hide
Our dwelling from the deadly blast;
To count each menac'd danger past,
Each moment's yet prolong'd delay,
Our day of grace, salvation's day;
On Him in times of need recline,
And still, the more his mercies shine,
The more his bounteous name adore,
And better serve, and love Him more!
Augmented heat of the sun. Fine July weather. Legend of St. Swithun. Lamentable effect of spiritual ignorance and tyranny
As yet the year is in its pride:
And if the sun at morning tide
His orient face less promptly show,
And o'er his setting radiance throw
At day's decline an earlier shade;
If more and more the twilight fade;
And that white lucid circle fail
To skirt the horizon, and with veil
Of thicker shade and more profound
Dark midnight spread her mantle round:
Yet nought from his meridian tower
Of keen and penetrating power,
Though less and less his orb exalt
Its noonstead in the azure vault,
Does the bright sun as yet resign,
Or with less fervid radiance shine.
But rather, as the summer days
Then beam most hotly, when his rays
Declining through the etherial space,
Erewhile inflam'd, on earth's warm face
With force accumulated beat:
So with access of annual heat
Receding from his loftiest post
His beams their strongest fervour boast,
And past the glow of earlier June
Is bright July's maturer noon.
And if the sun at morning tide
His orient face less promptly show,
And o'er his setting radiance throw
At day's decline an earlier shade;
If more and more the twilight fade;
And that white lucid circle fail
To skirt the horizon, and with veil
Of thicker shade and more profound
Dark midnight spread her mantle round:
Yet nought from his meridian tower
Of keen and penetrating power,
Though less and less his orb exalt
Its noonstead in the azure vault,
Does the bright sun as yet resign,
Or with less fervid radiance shine.
But rather, as the summer days
Then beam most hotly, when his rays
260
Erewhile inflam'd, on earth's warm face
With force accumulated beat:
So with access of annual heat
Receding from his loftiest post
His beams their strongest fervour boast,
And past the glow of earlier June
Is bright July's maturer noon.
What month asserts a warmer sky,
More clear, more bright, than bright July;
When the blue heav'n, which wont to lower
With many a dense, solstitial shower,
Has chas'd the curtain'd clouds away,
And summer suns resume their sway?
Unless perhaps the man of God,
Who deem'd the church than churchyard sod
To hold his lifeless frame less meet;
And, when to that forbidden seat
His flock with over-zealous love
Essay'd the buried corpse to move,
With six long weeks of torrent rain
Proclaim'd the rash endeavour vain,
And graced his tomb with many a sign
Miraculous of pow'r divine:—
Unless Saint Swithun interfere;
And, when the month in due career
Has all but reach'd the midmost day,
Tenacious of transmissive sway,
For full twice twenty days and more
Discharge the clouds' collected store!
More clear, more bright, than bright July;
When the blue heav'n, which wont to lower
With many a dense, solstitial shower,
Has chas'd the curtain'd clouds away,
And summer suns resume their sway?
Unless perhaps the man of God,
Who deem'd the church than churchyard sod
To hold his lifeless frame less meet;
And, when to that forbidden seat
His flock with over-zealous love
Essay'd the buried corpse to move,
With six long weeks of torrent rain
Proclaim'd the rash endeavour vain,
And graced his tomb with many a sign
Miraculous of pow'r divine:—
Unless Saint Swithun interfere;
And, when the month in due career
Has all but reach'd the midmost day,
Tenacious of transmissive sway,
For full twice twenty days and more
Discharge the clouds' collected store!
Such tales our darkling fathers knew
In error's days, and held them true!
Such tales, the dregs of error old,
There are who now in credence hold;
Such tales and worse: of selfish wile
Begot on ignorance, to beguile
Man's reason, and divert the scope
Of holy faith and ardent hope!
Alas for them, to whom is given
Eyesight and light by gracious heaven;
Forbid meanwhile by men aright
To use their eyesight or their light!
Alas for them still more, who bind,
What God would loose, the human mind;
Who nor themselves nor others free
From bonds, though charged with freedom's key;
And, heedless of His will, retain
The Christian in a heathen chain!
In error's days, and held them true!
261
There are who now in credence hold;
Such tales and worse: of selfish wile
Begot on ignorance, to beguile
Man's reason, and divert the scope
Of holy faith and ardent hope!
Alas for them, to whom is given
Eyesight and light by gracious heaven;
Forbid meanwhile by men aright
To use their eyesight or their light!
Alas for them still more, who bind,
What God would loose, the human mind;
Who nor themselves nor others free
From bonds, though charged with freedom's key;
And, heedless of His will, retain
The Christian in a heathen chain!
The Barometer. Rules for observing it. Outward signs of the weather. Virgil's Georgicks
But let Saint Swithun's legend pass!
More truly will the tube of glass,
With pure mercurial column fill'd,
Signs of the approaching weather yield.
If the rais'd fluid downward tend
Day after day, and still descend,
Mark'd by the graduated scale;
Believe the sign, that soon will fail,
Though fair and flattering to the eye,
The splendour of the cloudless sky.
Or if, by long and hasty strides,
Now up, now down, the silver glides,
Be cautious! Such brisk movements tell
Of days unfix'd and changeable,
Not by the actual height alone,
But by well-mark'd relation shown.
But if the silver upward rise,
Though dense the rain and dark the skies,
And still in one direction move,
Ascending; and disclose above
The steady column's rounded top,
Aspiring like a convex drop:
Then know, howe'er involved in gloom,
Soon will the conquering sun resume
The imperial rod, and day by day
Serene the aërial empire sway.
More truly will the tube of glass,
With pure mercurial column fill'd,
Signs of the approaching weather yield.
If the rais'd fluid downward tend
Day after day, and still descend,
Mark'd by the graduated scale;
Believe the sign, that soon will fail,
Though fair and flattering to the eye,
The splendour of the cloudless sky.
Or if, by long and hasty strides,
Now up, now down, the silver glides,
Be cautious! Such brisk movements tell
Of days unfix'd and changeable,
262
But by well-mark'd relation shown.
But if the silver upward rise,
Though dense the rain and dark the skies,
And still in one direction move,
Ascending; and disclose above
The steady column's rounded top,
Aspiring like a convex drop:
Then know, howe'er involved in gloom,
Soon will the conquering sun resume
The imperial rod, and day by day
Serene the aërial empire sway.
Nor wants there many an outward sign,
Whence old experience may divine
The future drought, the approaching storm:
From vapoury clouds' still varying form;
From winds, in changeful currents borne;
From dewy eve, or misty morn;
From hills, which far remov'd or near,
The same the space between, appear;
Or high or low the swallow's flight;
From clamorous rook, or soaring kite;
From antick gestures of the swine;
From houshold birds, or pastur'd kine;
From the swift sea-fowl's dripping wings;
From slimy frogs, and creeping things,
And watchful insect tribes; from none
More certain than the rapid sun,
The stars' pure lustre, and more bright
Or dim the silver orb of night.
“For ever to the wary eye
Sure signs the approaching times supply:
And still the symptoms of to-day
Tomorrow's character betray:”
So sang the Mantuan bard of yore,
And to the signs, from Grecian lore
Deriv'd, his Roman prudence join'd:
And they, who note the signs, will find
The truth by juster rules they tell,
Than fam'd Saint Swithun's oracle.
Whence old experience may divine
The future drought, the approaching storm:
From vapoury clouds' still varying form;
From winds, in changeful currents borne;
From dewy eve, or misty morn;
From hills, which far remov'd or near,
The same the space between, appear;
Or high or low the swallow's flight;
From clamorous rook, or soaring kite;
From antick gestures of the swine;
From houshold birds, or pastur'd kine;
From the swift sea-fowl's dripping wings;
From slimy frogs, and creeping things,
And watchful insect tribes; from none
More certain than the rapid sun,
The stars' pure lustre, and more bright
Or dim the silver orb of night.
“For ever to the wary eye
Sure signs the approaching times supply:
263
Tomorrow's character betray:”
So sang the Mantuan bard of yore,
And to the signs, from Grecian lore
Deriv'd, his Roman prudence join'd:
And they, who note the signs, will find
The truth by juster rules they tell,
Than fam'd Saint Swithun's oracle.
The Garden Bower. Its constituents. Traveller's joy. Why so called. Gerard's Herbal. Character of the work and its author. True use of knowledge
Confirm'd the summer sunbeams beat
On the dry earth, nor breezes chill
Come loaded with rheumatick ill;
In lonely thought, or converse bland,
Or with amusive book in hand,
'Tis sweet in yon o'erarching bower
To pass retir'd the sultry hour.
There with the tea-tree's purple bloom,
And fragrant stars that waft perfume
From white and yellow Jessamine,
Plants of more homely growth intwine,
Indigenous: the Woodbine wreath,
And Eglantine with dulcet breath;
And golden Hop, that still his course
Guides by the fostering sun, nor force
Will that his natural bent destroy;
And with green bloom the Traveller's joy,
Most beauteous when its flow'rs assume
Their autumn form of feathery plume.
The Traveller's joy! name well bestow'd
On that wild plant, which, by the road
264
Fails not the hedge of prickly thorn,
Or wilding rose-bush, apt to creep
O'er the dry limestone's craggy steep.
There still a gay companion near
To the way-faring “traveller”
Its lithe and straggling wreaths proclaim:
Thence honour'd with its gladsome name
By him, the plants' Historian old
In good Eliza's days, who told
In tale exact, with figures true,
And gave to all their honours due,
Each plant that merry England held,
In garden trim, or open field,
Native, or by his fostering care
Induced to breathe our foreign air,
Well-natur'd Gerard! And in days,
To more of scientifick praise
Aspiring, and with more command
Of graver's style, and painter's hand,
Be still his peerless worth confest,
Our England's early Herbarist!
Who 'mid his joy and great delight,
To see before his raptur'd sight
“The earth with herbs and flow'rs bespread,
As with a robe apparelled
Of broider's work, and garnish'd fair
With pearls and jewels rich and rare;”
With more delight his mental eye
Uprais'd the Maker to descry;
Saw in his works “his wisdom shine,
And pow'r, and workmanship divine;
265
The praise of God invisible ”
True use of knowledge, when it draws
The mind to ponder nature's Cause;
And makes man's intellectual wealth
Subservient to his spirit's health!
Water Excursions. The Isis and Cherwell. Oxford. The Wye. The Monnow. Monmouthshire. Raglan. The Marquis of Worcester. The British Nobleman.
And now's the season, when the bright
Calm days with fearlessness invite,
To float on some smooth river's tide,
Whose waters through fair landscapes glide,
Through rural scenes, and woodland bowers,
Rocks, and romantick cliffs, and towers,
Which lift their crests aloft, and throw
Rich umbrage on the flood below.
Calm days with fearlessness invite,
To float on some smooth river's tide,
Whose waters through fair landscapes glide,
Through rural scenes, and woodland bowers,
Rocks, and romantick cliffs, and towers,
Which lift their crests aloft, and throw
Rich umbrage on the flood below.
O who will bear me to the meads,
Where Isis, classick river, leads
Her silver current, broad and fleet:
And Cherwell glides hard by, to meet
Her course with narrow stream and slow?
There the bright water-lilies blow,
Their stems with gorgeous blossoms crown'd,
'Mid shield-like leaves that float around.
There many an oar, with feathery play
Quick-glancing, on the dripping spray
Reflects the sunbeams: many a sail
Shines white before the bellying gale:
And mellow o'er the water swells
The musick of thy pealing bells,
O Wykeham, name rever'd! and nigh,
His, who with graceful symmetry
Rais'd the fair tow'r of Magdalene,
In the clear crystal twofold seen,
Rich pinnacle, with vane and fret;
Window, and pannel'd parapet:
And near, but with a graver air,
Like mother by her daughter fair,
Low Merton, 'mid her tufted grove;
And Christchurch' Norman pile above
The long line of her elm-trees tall,
Her gatehouse tow'r, and window'd hall;
And Attic Radcliffe's vaulted dome;
And rising o'er my whilome home,
My own lov'd Oriel,—(though of grace
But small to see to, yet in place
Not mean 'mong Oxford's sons, nor slight
Her honour;)—there of structure light
Emerging from its cluster rich
Of crocket, canopy, and niche,
Corbel and statue, leaf and flower,
That crown its decorated tower,
With sculpture's elfin broidery graced,
Itself with simple beauty chaste
Ascends o'er buttress, nave, and choir,
Saint Mary's tall and taper spire.
Where Isis, classick river, leads
Her silver current, broad and fleet:
And Cherwell glides hard by, to meet
Her course with narrow stream and slow?
There the bright water-lilies blow,
Their stems with gorgeous blossoms crown'd,
'Mid shield-like leaves that float around.
There many an oar, with feathery play
Quick-glancing, on the dripping spray
Reflects the sunbeams: many a sail
Shines white before the bellying gale:
And mellow o'er the water swells
The musick of thy pealing bells,
266
His, who with graceful symmetry
Rais'd the fair tow'r of Magdalene,
In the clear crystal twofold seen,
Rich pinnacle, with vane and fret;
Window, and pannel'd parapet:
And near, but with a graver air,
Like mother by her daughter fair,
Low Merton, 'mid her tufted grove;
And Christchurch' Norman pile above
The long line of her elm-trees tall,
Her gatehouse tow'r, and window'd hall;
And Attic Radcliffe's vaulted dome;
And rising o'er my whilome home,
My own lov'd Oriel,—(though of grace
But small to see to, yet in place
Not mean 'mong Oxford's sons, nor slight
Her honour;)—there of structure light
Emerging from its cluster rich
Of crocket, canopy, and niche,
Corbel and statue, leaf and flower,
That crown its decorated tower,
With sculpture's elfin broidery graced,
Itself with simple beauty chaste
Ascends o'er buttress, nave, and choir,
Saint Mary's tall and taper spire.
Or who will bear me, where the Wye
Deep 'mid her woodland scenery,
And doubling like the volum'd snake,
Winds onward her romantick track:
By Goodrich' hold, and Kymin's hill,
Augmented thence by that slow rill,
Which gives yon ancient town its name,
Proud of its old historian's fame,
Proud of its monarch's, from the fort
Surnam'd and field of Agincourt;
To Tintern's lofty-window'd fane
Stript of each gorgeous storied pane,
Her roofless, arch'd, and pillar'd nave;
And Piersfield's rocks, and woods that wave
Impervious o'er the strait abyss,
Sheer from the embattled precipice;
And Chepstow proudly looking down,
Where tow'rds his old romantick town
Wye glides beneath his towered steep,
Long terras'd wall, and tottering keep!
Deep 'mid her woodland scenery,
And doubling like the volum'd snake,
Winds onward her romantick track:
By Goodrich' hold, and Kymin's hill,
Augmented thence by that slow rill,
267
Proud of its old historian's fame,
Proud of its monarch's, from the fort
Surnam'd and field of Agincourt;
To Tintern's lofty-window'd fane
Stript of each gorgeous storied pane,
Her roofless, arch'd, and pillar'd nave;
And Piersfield's rocks, and woods that wave
Impervious o'er the strait abyss,
Sheer from the embattled precipice;
And Chepstow proudly looking down,
Where tow'rds his old romantick town
Wye glides beneath his towered steep,
Long terras'd wall, and tottering keep!
To please the mind with visions fair,
To blunt the bitter sting of care,
Such scenes possess a magick power;
And once and more, for many an hour
Of bliss, such bliss as here we know,
To thee a debt of thanks I owe,
O Monmouth, and thy wandering Wye!
With much besides, that memory's eye
Still holds in wakeful trance; the scene,
Where Blorenge soars with lofty mien
Abrupt from sweet Gavenny's vale;
And close Lantony's abbey'd dale;
And that star-pointing heath-clad cone,
'Mid the broad plain in grandeur lone;
And Skyrrid's cloven pyramid;
And by the creeping ivy hid,
Baronial Raglan's portal'd wall,
Her spacious courts, and stately hall,
Imperial Charles's lov'd resort,
Tow'rs, bastions, moat, and massive fort.
Raglan, whom storying scrolls record
In concert with her loyal Lord,
Worcester's good earl, who nobly dar'd,
When England like a caitiff far'd
Crush'd by rebellion's iron wing,
To love his Church and serve his King!
And sure in history's living page,
The records of a by-gone age,
It glads the very heart to see
Fast faith, and generous loyalty,
Still unseduc'd, unterrified;
And careless of all thought beside,
Save to maintain the plighted vow,
And bear untarnish'd on the brow,
Howe'er by evil days beset,
The British noble's coronet!
To blunt the bitter sting of care,
Such scenes possess a magick power;
And once and more, for many an hour
Of bliss, such bliss as here we know,
To thee a debt of thanks I owe,
O Monmouth, and thy wandering Wye!
With much besides, that memory's eye
Still holds in wakeful trance; the scene,
Where Blorenge soars with lofty mien
Abrupt from sweet Gavenny's vale;
And close Lantony's abbey'd dale;
And that star-pointing heath-clad cone,
'Mid the broad plain in grandeur lone;
And Skyrrid's cloven pyramid;
And by the creeping ivy hid,
Baronial Raglan's portal'd wall,
Her spacious courts, and stately hall,
268
Tow'rs, bastions, moat, and massive fort.
Raglan, whom storying scrolls record
In concert with her loyal Lord,
Worcester's good earl, who nobly dar'd,
When England like a caitiff far'd
Crush'd by rebellion's iron wing,
To love his Church and serve his King!
And sure in history's living page,
The records of a by-gone age,
It glads the very heart to see
Fast faith, and generous loyalty,
Still unseduc'd, unterrified;
And careless of all thought beside,
Save to maintain the plighted vow,
And bear untarnish'd on the brow,
Howe'er by evil days beset,
The British noble's coronet!
Monmouthshire a field for the Botanist. July Specimens of Flowers. Evening Primrose. Field or Spreading Bell-flower. Giant Throatwort. Thorn Apple, &c. Mints, &c. Purple or Lobel's Catchfly. Shepherd's Rod. Wild Teasel. Broom-rape. The portraying of flowers, a pleasing and useful art
Nor are those scenes without their share
Of worth to such, as fain would bear
From every pleasant spot a prize
To swell their treasur'd herbaries.
Bear witness thou, beloved child!
For whom each simple flowret wild,
Ere yet thou knew'st to name its name
With half-form'd speech, had pow'r to claim
Thy love, surpassing vulgar toys;
And still among thy youthful joys,
Train'd by parental care, thy taste,
By joint parental care, embraced
Each novel bloom, in season due,
Which from her lap free nature threw:
Nor now, when calls maternal, join'd
With calls connubial, on thy mind
The tasks of life mature impose,
Fails't thou, if chance a stranger grows
Thy path beside, soon strange no more
To range it with thy floral store:—
Bear witness thou, that not in vain
We travers'd Monmouth's blooming reign,
When bright July his radiance shed;
And many a flow'r, from nature's bed
Cropt by thy hand, was taught to wear
On thy portraying page the air,
And form, and tints, which first it knew,
When on its native spot it blew.
Of worth to such, as fain would bear
From every pleasant spot a prize
To swell their treasur'd herbaries.
Bear witness thou, beloved child!
For whom each simple flowret wild,
Ere yet thou knew'st to name its name
With half-form'd speech, had pow'r to claim
Thy love, surpassing vulgar toys;
And still among thy youthful joys,
Train'd by parental care, thy taste,
By joint parental care, embraced
269
Which from her lap free nature threw:
Nor now, when calls maternal, join'd
With calls connubial, on thy mind
The tasks of life mature impose,
Fails't thou, if chance a stranger grows
Thy path beside, soon strange no more
To range it with thy floral store:—
Bear witness thou, that not in vain
We travers'd Monmouth's blooming reign,
When bright July his radiance shed;
And many a flow'r, from nature's bed
Cropt by thy hand, was taught to wear
On thy portraying page the air,
And form, and tints, which first it knew,
When on its native spot it blew.
There still through winter's gloom I trace
The form of many a summer grace:
There the tall plant, whose yellow bloom
Pale gold, and delicate perfume,
Scenting the evening breezes, claim
The honour of the Primrose' name,
From gentle Monnow's rushy bank:
But whether Monnow's rushes dank,
Or rapid Wye, or Britain's coast
Can dare the Evening Primrose boast
Indigenous, their native pride,
Is doubt; nor dares the Muse decide.
There the blue Bell-flow'r open spread,
Most rare; and rare with double head
The Giant Throatwort's bells of blue:
The Meadow Cranesbill's purpler hue:
Soapwort, with blush of roseate tinge:
The tube-like cup of green, and fringe
Of blossom plaited manifold,
The thorny Apple's milk-white hold;
White, but with purple tinge, as milk,
Soft to the touch as orient silk:
Of sorts, which ev'n botanick eye,
Vers'd in its lov'd pursuit, may try
In vain to mark, the scented Mint,
Of many a varied form and tint:
And Calamint, of kindred power:
White Catmint's crimson-spotted flower;
Dwarf mallow; purple Betony;
With velvet leaf the Mallow-tree;
Red Burnet; Cudweed's cottony down;
The prickly Carline's golden crown;
Of form minute, complete in shape,
The least Snapdragon's yellow gape:—
Where Kymin from his rocky brow
Marks town, and mead, and stream below,
And tempts the sauntring step to rove
Through the rich glades of Beaulieu's grove,
But if the hill a plant so rare
Have bred, or only nourish'd there,
I know not, girt with viscid rim,
The purple Catchfly's jointed stem:—
The Shepherd's bristling staff erect:
With purple blooms the Teasel deckt
Concenter'd in an oval crown;
But not like him of more renown,
Arm'd with the bended awns, that pull
Through the close web the knotted wool,
Raise the soft downy nap, and smooth
The texture with tenacious tooth;
Nor skilful art a tool has plann'd
To match that gift of nature's hand:—
And Broomrape's scaly spikes, around
With tiers of helmed blossoms bound,
Who plants his parasitick shoot
Intrusive on a stranger root,
And, fresh with life, presents to view
The sapless oak leaf's dingy hue.
The form of many a summer grace:
There the tall plant, whose yellow bloom
Pale gold, and delicate perfume,
Scenting the evening breezes, claim
The honour of the Primrose' name,
From gentle Monnow's rushy bank:
But whether Monnow's rushes dank,
Or rapid Wye, or Britain's coast
Can dare the Evening Primrose boast
Indigenous, their native pride,
Is doubt; nor dares the Muse decide.
There the blue Bell-flow'r open spread,
Most rare; and rare with double head
The Giant Throatwort's bells of blue:
The Meadow Cranesbill's purpler hue:
270
The tube-like cup of green, and fringe
Of blossom plaited manifold,
The thorny Apple's milk-white hold;
White, but with purple tinge, as milk,
Soft to the touch as orient silk:
Of sorts, which ev'n botanick eye,
Vers'd in its lov'd pursuit, may try
In vain to mark, the scented Mint,
Of many a varied form and tint:
And Calamint, of kindred power:
White Catmint's crimson-spotted flower;
Dwarf mallow; purple Betony;
With velvet leaf the Mallow-tree;
Red Burnet; Cudweed's cottony down;
The prickly Carline's golden crown;
Of form minute, complete in shape,
The least Snapdragon's yellow gape:—
Where Kymin from his rocky brow
Marks town, and mead, and stream below,
And tempts the sauntring step to rove
Through the rich glades of Beaulieu's grove,
But if the hill a plant so rare
Have bred, or only nourish'd there,
I know not, girt with viscid rim,
The purple Catchfly's jointed stem:—
The Shepherd's bristling staff erect:
With purple blooms the Teasel deckt
Concenter'd in an oval crown;
But not like him of more renown,
Arm'd with the bended awns, that pull
Through the close web the knotted wool,
271
The texture with tenacious tooth;
Nor skilful art a tool has plann'd
To match that gift of nature's hand:—
And Broomrape's scaly spikes, around
With tiers of helmed blossoms bound,
Who plants his parasitick shoot
Intrusive on a stranger root,
And, fresh with life, presents to view
The sapless oak leaf's dingy hue.
All these and more, whene'er I look
Well-pleas'd on thy recording book,
Lov'd daughter, of the days gone by,
Past on the banks of wandering Wye,
Memorials to my thought impart,
There pictur'd by thy pleasing art.
Delightful art, when meet combin'd
The Botanist's inquiring mind,
The Painter's plastick eye, and hand
Obedient to the eye's command!
Delightful art, to which the power
Belongs, the perishable flower
To save from imminent decay,
Its form to other days convey,
Fresh blooms to fading beauty give,
And bid the wither'd figure live!
For me, all inexpert to hold
The limner's pencil, and unfold
Sweet nature's rural charms to view,
The worth I own of those who do:
Well-pleas'd in portraiture to trace
The features of the country's face,
And, when forbid the fields to roam,
To ponder these delights at home!
Well-pleas'd on thy recording book,
Lov'd daughter, of the days gone by,
Past on the banks of wandering Wye,
Memorials to my thought impart,
There pictur'd by thy pleasing art.
Delightful art, when meet combin'd
The Botanist's inquiring mind,
The Painter's plastick eye, and hand
Obedient to the eye's command!
Delightful art, to which the power
Belongs, the perishable flower
To save from imminent decay,
Its form to other days convey,
Fresh blooms to fading beauty give,
And bid the wither'd figure live!
For me, all inexpert to hold
The limner's pencil, and unfold
Sweet nature's rural charms to view,
The worth I own of those who do:
Well-pleas'd in portraiture to trace
The features of the country's face,
272
To ponder these delights at home!
July abundant in flowers. Singing of birds subsiding. Supposed causes of their silence. Songs suspended till autumn. The Missel Thrush soon silent. Hedge Chanter, Greenbird, Chaffinch. Blackcap, Redstart, Whitethroat. The Nightingale. Shortness of his stay. Lark and Thrush, why more valuable
I said that June perchance might vie
With May in rich variety
Of novel blossoms, with delight
That paint the fields, and charm the sight.
With many a novel blossom more,
Less copious, yet not small the store,
If duly scann'd will bright July
Reward the investigating eye.
Not so, to charm the listening ears,
Will nature's tuneful choristers
Fresh strains supply of rapture new:
And, as the month glides on, but few
With transport less alert sustain
The musick of their earlier strain.
With May in rich variety
Of novel blossoms, with delight
That paint the fields, and charm the sight.
With many a novel blossom more,
Less copious, yet not small the store,
If duly scann'd will bright July
Reward the investigating eye.
Not so, to charm the listening ears,
Will nature's tuneful choristers
Fresh strains supply of rapture new:
And, as the month glides on, but few
With transport less alert sustain
The musick of their earlier strain.
What causes indistinct commence
To check the general confluence
Of voices from the feather'd throng,
Which swell'd the vernal tide of song?
To check the general confluence
Of voices from the feather'd throng,
Which swell'd the vernal tide of song?
Is it, the quickening breath of Spring,
When all the world is revelling
As with new life, has lost its power,
Supplanted by the summer hour,
Which sinks in languor and in rest
The efforts of each buoyant breast?
Is it, the kindling flame of love
Has ceas'd to answering warmth to move
The ardent tribes, that now no more
Against a rival's song they pour
The torrent of ambitious pride,
Or courtship for the destin'd bride?
Is it, no more, in all the height
And fulness of the heart's delight,
The brooding mate calls forth at hand
Sounds of kind thought and passion bland,
To cheer her wearisome employ,
And tell his own exuberant joy?
When all the world is revelling
As with new life, has lost its power,
Supplanted by the summer hour,
Which sinks in languor and in rest
The efforts of each buoyant breast?
Is it, the kindling flame of love
Has ceas'd to answering warmth to move
The ardent tribes, that now no more
Against a rival's song they pour
273
Or courtship for the destin'd bride?
Is it, no more, in all the height
And fulness of the heart's delight,
The brooding mate calls forth at hand
Sounds of kind thought and passion bland,
To cheer her wearisome employ,
And tell his own exuberant joy?
Whate'er we deem the immediate cause,
Which gives effect to nature's laws,
And with the season brings along
The times of silence and of song;
Full many a voice, which made to ring
With ecstasy the groves of spring,
Its part in that bright concert ends;
Or through the midmost year suspends,
Till the calm autumn's milder day
Again awake the slumbering lay.
Which gives effect to nature's laws,
And with the season brings along
The times of silence and of song;
Full many a voice, which made to ring
With ecstasy the groves of spring,
Its part in that bright concert ends;
Or through the midmost year suspends,
Till the calm autumn's milder day
Again awake the slumbering lay.
Long since the Missel ceas'd his song;
Scarce one among the vernal throng;
Apt with his stirring call to cheer
The dulness of the infant year,
But soon apart and mute he dwells,
Nor e'er the general concert swells.
Scarce one among the vernal throng;
Apt with his stirring call to cheer
The dulness of the infant year,
But soon apart and mute he dwells,
Nor e'er the general concert swells.
But like the Missel, many a bird,
Long 'mid the general concert heard,
Now ere July be well begun,
Or when his middle course is run.
The musick of the groves and fields
To more enduring songsters yields.
Long 'mid the general concert heard,
Now ere July be well begun,
Or when his middle course is run.
The musick of the groves and fields
To more enduring songsters yields.
Mute soon the Chanter of the hedge:
And he, who paints with yellow edge
His pinion's olive plumage green,
Though now he break the silent scene
With sharp quick trill, to July's end
Will scarce that sharp quick trill extend.
More prompt has ceas'd his carol light
The Chaffinch, with bright bars of white
Crossing his wings of velvet black:
And, thinking of their southward track,
The pilgrim gray with sable head;
And he with tail and bosom red;
And he, who on the wing his note
Pours restless from his silvery throat.
And where is he, sweet Philomel,
With rise and fall, and trill and swell,
Melodious? He the advancing year
Forbears with strain prolong'd to cheer,
And leaves with June the evening wood
To silence as to solitude.
And he, who paints with yellow edge
274
Though now he break the silent scene
With sharp quick trill, to July's end
Will scarce that sharp quick trill extend.
More prompt has ceas'd his carol light
The Chaffinch, with bright bars of white
Crossing his wings of velvet black:
And, thinking of their southward track,
The pilgrim gray with sable head;
And he with tail and bosom red;
And he, who on the wing his note
Pours restless from his silvery throat.
And where is he, sweet Philomel,
With rise and fall, and trill and swell,
Melodious? He the advancing year
Forbears with strain prolong'd to cheer,
And leaves with June the evening wood
To silence as to solitude.
Unrivall'd by the general vote
Is Philomel's melodious note:
And favouring accidents agree
To add to that sweet melody,
By dint of rareness, time, and place,
A zest and adventitious grace.
But brief is Philomela's stay,
A few short weeks: that liquid lay
Nor earliest spring delights to hear,
Nor dwells it on midsummer's ear.
Like meteors in the evening sky,
That charm with transient glance the eye,
Bright visions in yon vaulted scene,
But short their times, and far between.
Is Philomel's melodious note:
And favouring accidents agree
To add to that sweet melody,
By dint of rareness, time, and place,
A zest and adventitious grace.
But brief is Philomela's stay,
A few short weeks: that liquid lay
Nor earliest spring delights to hear,
Nor dwells it on midsummer's ear.
Like meteors in the evening sky,
That charm with transient glance the eye,
Bright visions in yon vaulted scene,
But short their times, and far between.
275
And so, with more delight I greet,
More welcome inmates, if less sweet,
The merry Lark and Throstle gay:
Not only of the dawning day,
But heralds of the dawning year;
Who their rathe lay in winter's rear
Sing blithe, and all the springtide long,
And scarce suspend the summer song:
Or, if suspended for a while,
Reviv'd by autumn's milder smile
The stream of harmony resume:
Now and again midwinter's gloom
Enlivening, till the brisker strain
Proclaim the opening year again.
Kind friends at hand, like friends indeed,
To aid us in our hour of need;
And sure not dearly for their aid
With food, and house, and home repaid!
More welcome inmates, if less sweet,
The merry Lark and Throstle gay:
Not only of the dawning day,
But heralds of the dawning year;
Who their rathe lay in winter's rear
Sing blithe, and all the springtide long,
And scarce suspend the summer song:
Or, if suspended for a while,
Reviv'd by autumn's milder smile
The stream of harmony resume:
Now and again midwinter's gloom
Enlivening, till the brisker strain
Proclaim the opening year again.
Kind friends at hand, like friends indeed,
To aid us in our hour of need;
And sure not dearly for their aid
With food, and house, and home repaid!
Departure of the Cuckoo. Silent at the beginning of July. Regularity of migratory birds. Different seasons peculiar to different kinds. Different modes of preparation. The Cuckoo's unobserved departure. Congregating of the Swifts. Their departure. Their brief continuance here. Solution of geographical problems. The movements of the Swift a harder problem. Referable to the Divine will
And he, companion of the spring,
The echo bird of vagrant wing,
Whose voice, foregoing all pretence
To charm with tuneful sound the sense,
Yet by association wins
The well-pleas'd mind, while it begins,
And oft the self same note renews,
'Mid nature's fairest sweetest views,
Winging his flight from tree to tree;
“The plain song Cuckoo,” where is he?
With trembling, hoarse, disjointed tune
Of late he gave to parting June
Of coo-coo-coo his farewell cry:
But scarce a greeting to July
Of kind good-morrow waits to pay,
Already on his southward way.
The echo bird of vagrant wing,
Whose voice, foregoing all pretence
To charm with tuneful sound the sense,
Yet by association wins
The well-pleas'd mind, while it begins,
And oft the self same note renews,
'Mid nature's fairest sweetest views,
Winging his flight from tree to tree;
“The plain song Cuckoo,” where is he?
With trembling, hoarse, disjointed tune
Of late he gave to parting June
276
But scarce a greeting to July
Of kind good-morrow waits to pay,
Already on his southward way.
I marvel how, from place to place,
Each various migratory race
True to their bidding go and come!
As truly, as at beat of drum
The marshall'd soldiers' prompt array,
They strike their tents, and troop away:
Soon as that secret pow'r directs,
Which reason sees in its effects,
But further knows not to define;
That hidden voice, which gives the sign,
From the hot shores of southmost Spain,
Or sandy Afric's sun-bright reign,
To wing their vernal flight, or back
Retrace the autumnal southward track.
Each various migratory race
True to their bidding go and come!
As truly, as at beat of drum
The marshall'd soldiers' prompt array,
They strike their tents, and troop away:
Soon as that secret pow'r directs,
Which reason sees in its effects,
But further knows not to define;
That hidden voice, which gives the sign,
From the hot shores of southmost Spain,
Or sandy Afric's sun-bright reign,
To wing their vernal flight, or back
Retrace the autumnal southward track.
I marvel, its peculiar time
How each discerns, from clime to clime
The migratory wing to ply:
Some, while the summer sun on high
Yet keeps his hot and lustrous hold;
Nor yet the approaching winter's cold,
Nor autumn's milder reign betrays,
By weaken'd beams or waning days;—
Some, when the breath of autumn stains
The wood, and chills its saples veins,
And the connecting passage shows
From summer's heat to winter's snows;—
Some, not till winter's steps appear
Advancing close on autumn's rear,
And night with more than equal sway
Holds conflict with declining day.
How each discerns, from clime to clime
The migratory wing to ply:
Some, while the summer sun on high
Yet keeps his hot and lustrous hold;
Nor yet the approaching winter's cold,
Nor autumn's milder reign betrays,
By weaken'd beams or waning days;—
Some, when the breath of autumn stains
The wood, and chills its saples veins,
And the connecting passage shows
From summer's heat to winter's snows;—
Some, not till winter's steps appear
Advancing close on autumn's rear,
277
Holds conflict with declining day.
I marvel too, what potent cause
These by cognate attraction draws
To council, as the days advance;
And prompts them, ev'n to casual glance
The near approaching flight to tell,
By marks and signs perceptible:
While others pass unnotic'd hence,
Save by the more observant sense;
And, as they came at first, are gone
By stealth, in quiet, and alone.
These by cognate attraction draws
To council, as the days advance;
And prompts them, ev'n to casual glance
The near approaching flight to tell,
By marks and signs perceptible:
While others pass unnotic'd hence,
Save by the more observant sense;
And, as they came at first, are gone
By stealth, in quiet, and alone.
Of late, the hedgerow path along,
The Cuckoo's oft repeated song
Amus'd our ear: perchance our sight
Was taken by his hurried flight.
Again we seek the accustom'd spot,
But now we see and hear him not.
The vanish'd form, the silenc'd tone,
Make his unseen migration known.
The Cuckoo's oft repeated song
Amus'd our ear: perchance our sight
Was taken by his hurried flight.
Again we seek the accustom'd spot,
But now we see and hear him not.
The vanish'd form, the silenc'd tone,
Make his unseen migration known.
Not so the bird of shortest feet,
And longest stretch of wing! Complete
The end which brought him to our shore,
The task of incubation o'er,
And firm and fledg'd his new-born twins;
He now in airy sport begins
To busk him for the approaching flight.
In gathering troops from morn to night,
With dart and wheel, with scream and squeak,
Which the heart's buoyancy bespeak,
Aloft amid the azure sky
Their pinions' rival speed they try;
Embracing in their daily play
A space, might bear them on their way
From Britain's isles to southmost Spain,
The northern to the midland main.
And longest stretch of wing! Complete
The end which brought him to our shore,
The task of incubation o'er,
And firm and fledg'd his new-born twins;
He now in airy sport begins
To busk him for the approaching flight.
In gathering troops from morn to night,
With dart and wheel, with scream and squeak,
Which the heart's buoyancy bespeak,
Aloft amid the azure sky
Their pinions' rival speed they try;
278
A space, might bear them on their way
From Britain's isles to southmost Spain,
The northern to the midland main.
So all prepar'd, the secret sign
Obeying of the voice divine,
Which speechless whispers to their breast,
(The effect we see, but how imprest
That secret sign we little know,
Or what their moving cause to go;)
Hence with the tempest's speed they start,
The last to come, the first to part,
Of all the swallow's fourfold race.
May saw them first in amorous chase
Cleave with swift wing our British air:—
June on their close domestick care
Mark'd them intent:—the well-fledg'd young,
Now mixt their parent troops among,
High in the liquid ether play:—
And, long ere August's midmost day,
Shall Britain on her southern shore
Salute the pilgrim Swift no more.
Obeying of the voice divine,
Which speechless whispers to their breast,
(The effect we see, but how imprest
That secret sign we little know,
Or what their moving cause to go;)
Hence with the tempest's speed they start,
The last to come, the first to part,
Of all the swallow's fourfold race.
May saw them first in amorous chase
Cleave with swift wing our British air:—
June on their close domestick care
Mark'd them intent:—the well-fledg'd young,
Now mixt their parent troops among,
High in the liquid ether play:—
And, long ere August's midmost day,
Shall Britain on her southern shore
Salute the pilgrim Swift no more.
What problems, many an age involv'd
In night, had man's experience solv'd,
Could man have learn'd to mount the drift,
And travel with the pilgrim Swift!
Not then about the central zone
A cloud had ancient error thrown,
As if the sun inflam'd the air
Surpassing human life to bear:—
Not then had Afric's Cape of Storm
Obscur'd so long its mountain form;
And stay'd its boundaries to reveal,
Till plough'd by Lusitanian keel:—
Not then had Nile his lurking source,
Nor Niger then his seaward course,
Conceal'd, a monument to raise
To Britain's sons these latter days.
Such mysteries long had man descried,
The Swift's accustom'd tracks his guide.
In night, had man's experience solv'd,
Could man have learn'd to mount the drift,
And travel with the pilgrim Swift!
Not then about the central zone
A cloud had ancient error thrown,
As if the sun inflam'd the air
Surpassing human life to bear:—
Not then had Afric's Cape of Storm
Obscur'd so long its mountain form;
279
Till plough'd by Lusitanian keel:—
Not then had Nile his lurking source,
Nor Niger then his seaward course,
Conceal'd, a monument to raise
To Britain's sons these latter days.
Such mysteries long had man descried,
The Swift's accustom'd tracks his guide.
But harder problems than to show,
With what degrees of fervour glow
The beams of equatorial suns;
Or to what length to pole-ward runs
The southern cape; or where ascends
Nile's bubbling stream, or Niger's ends;
The wandering Swift himself supplies:
How with unerring aim he plies
His earlier and his later flight;
By what nice sense, surpassing sight,
Experience, reasoning thought combin'd,
By what strange energy of mind,
(If mind we dare that instinct call,)
In one concurrent council all
Impell'd, at stated seasons plan,
Commence, complete their course; while man
Alert to scrutinise the laws
Of nature, and each secret cause,
Avows, beyond what meets the eye,
Their motions ill can he descry,
Fain to refer the end, the road,
The season, all to nature's God!
With what degrees of fervour glow
The beams of equatorial suns;
Or to what length to pole-ward runs
The southern cape; or where ascends
Nile's bubbling stream, or Niger's ends;
The wandering Swift himself supplies:
How with unerring aim he plies
His earlier and his later flight;
By what nice sense, surpassing sight,
Experience, reasoning thought combin'd,
By what strange energy of mind,
(If mind we dare that instinct call,)
In one concurrent council all
Impell'd, at stated seasons plan,
Commence, complete their course; while man
Alert to scrutinise the laws
Of nature, and each secret cause,
Avows, beyond what meets the eye,
Their motions ill can he descry,
Fain to refer the end, the road,
The season, all to nature's God!
280
Same cause produces the fruits of the earth. Wild fruits ripe. Strawberries, &c. Garden fruits. Cherries, Apricots. Corn in ear: Wheat, Barley, Oats. Flax in blossom. Potatoes, Hops. Beans, Vetches, Peas: their papilionaceous forms. The proprietor's feelings. The passenger's
And what, but nature's God, his wealth
Pours forth profuse; while, as by stealth,
Unseen, we know not how, the earth
With many a fast maturing birth
Is mantled, and completes her part,
To glad man's face, and cheer his heart?
Pours forth profuse; while, as by stealth,
Unseen, we know not how, the earth
With many a fast maturing birth
Is mantled, and completes her part,
To glad man's face, and cheer his heart?
On shady hills and woodland banks,
Or the trim garden's cultur'd ranks,
Half seen, in many-colour'd heaps,
The granulated Strawberry peeps
Abundant from his leafy bed.
Blue Bilberries, Whortleberries red,
And scarlet Cranberries' richer prize,
Stain'd with the bright vermilion's dies,
This oval, those of form globose,
In heath, or moor, or peaty moss,
Where bloom'd of late the shrub-borne bell,
Now to their full siz'd ripeness swell,
And moulded in the sugar'd paste
Court with sharp zest the approving taste.
Or the trim garden's cultur'd ranks,
Half seen, in many-colour'd heaps,
The granulated Strawberry peeps
Abundant from his leafy bed.
Blue Bilberries, Whortleberries red,
And scarlet Cranberries' richer prize,
Stain'd with the bright vermilion's dies,
This oval, those of form globose,
In heath, or moor, or peaty moss,
Where bloom'd of late the shrub-borne bell,
Now to their full siz'd ripeness swell,
And moulded in the sugar'd paste
Court with sharp zest the approving taste.
See, pendent from the branching bough,
Of sanguine or empurpled glow,
The clustering Cherry's glossy balls.
And studding thick the sunny walls,
First of his luscious tribe to bear
To ripeness in our northern air,
Unshelter'd from the nipping cold,
His fruit, now ripening into gold,
With blush of roseate brown inrobes
The Apricot his pulpy globes.
Of sanguine or empurpled glow,
The clustering Cherry's glossy balls.
And studding thick the sunny walls,
First of his luscious tribe to bear
To ripeness in our northern air,
Unshelter'd from the nipping cold,
His fruit, now ripening into gold,
With blush of roseate brown inrobes
The Apricot his pulpy globes.
From blades of blue-ting'd verdure rears
The Wheat its sharp and swelling ears,
And its fresh green with change indues
Day after day of richer hues,
Till dipt in molten gold it seem,
Stol'n from Pactolus' fabled stream.
The bristling Barley's purple bloom
Waves in the gale its egret plume:
Waved in the gale as lightly float
The pendents of the bended Oat.
The Wheat its sharp and swelling ears,
281
Day after day of richer hues,
Till dipt in molten gold it seem,
Stol'n from Pactolus' fabled stream.
The bristling Barley's purple bloom
Waves in the gale its egret plume:
Waved in the gale as lightly float
The pendents of the bended Oat.
O'er its green stalks the flax-field draws
A meshy veil of azure gauze,
So thick the scatter'd blossoms lie:
Till every bright cerulean eye,
As tir'd and studious of repose,
The sun's receding splendour close;
At morn their eyelids to unfold,
And his warm rays again behold.
A meshy veil of azure gauze,
So thick the scatter'd blossoms lie:
Till every bright cerulean eye,
As tir'd and studious of repose,
The sun's receding splendour close;
At morn their eyelids to unfold,
And his warm rays again behold.
Green 'mid brown earth's alternate rows
Its flow'rs the dark Potato shows,
With yellow cones appearing through
Its wheel-like blossoms, white or blue.
Its flow'rs the dark Potato shows,
With yellow cones appearing through
Its wheel-like blossoms, white or blue.
Round the tall pole tenacious sweeps
The spiral Hop, and twisting creeps
Aloft with hairy stalk, and weaves
His scaly flow'rs 'mid rugged leaves.
The spiral Hop, and twisting creeps
Aloft with hairy stalk, and weaves
His scaly flow'rs 'mid rugged leaves.
Here stands, what lately blooming lent
To passing gales delicious scent,
Erect the podded Bean: and there
The wing'd and many-blossom'd Tare
To every friendly object clings
With its lithe tendril's curling rings.
And there the Pea, with pranked dies,
In shape like painted butterflies,
That flit from flow'r to flow'r, and sip
Metheglin from each nectar'd lip,
Scarce bending to the touch; and play
In the blue sky, and to the ray
Of noontide shew their gleaming sails,
Vesture all hues, and feathery scales.
To passing gales delicious scent,
Erect the podded Bean: and there
The wing'd and many-blossom'd Tare
To every friendly object clings
With its lithe tendril's curling rings.
And there the Pea, with pranked dies,
In shape like painted butterflies,
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Metheglin from each nectar'd lip,
Scarce bending to the touch; and play
In the blue sky, and to the ray
Of noontide shew their gleaming sails,
Vesture all hues, and feathery scales.
With fond anticipating hope,
Presageful of the future crop,
Each fruitful field the owner eyes,
And triumphs in the expected prize.
He too, the casual passer by,
To whom all nature's gifts supply
Food for improving pleasing thought,
He, with no selfish interest fraught,
Exulting hails each promis'd boon;
And feels it for the time his own;
And lifts his heart to Him, whose hand,
Still prompt in bounty to expand,
Is fain the things he made to bless,
And fills with food and joyfulness!
Presageful of the future crop,
Each fruitful field the owner eyes,
And triumphs in the expected prize.
He too, the casual passer by,
To whom all nature's gifts supply
Food for improving pleasing thought,
He, with no selfish interest fraught,
Exulting hails each promis'd boon;
And feels it for the time his own;
And lifts his heart to Him, whose hand,
Still prompt in bounty to expand,
Is fain the things he made to bless,
And fills with food and joyfulness!
Delight of contemplating the year's fruitfulness. The liberal rich man. The poor man. His offering of gratitude well pleasing. Proportionate returns due from all for God's bounty
O, 'tis a sight the soul to cheer,
The promise of the fruitful year,
When God abroad his bounty flings,
And answering nature laughs and sings!
He “for the evil and the good,”
For them, who with heart's gratitude,
And them, who thanklessly receive
The blessings he vouchsafes to give,
Bids from his storehouse in the skies
“His rain descend, his sun arise !”
The promise of the fruitful year,
When God abroad his bounty flings,
And answering nature laughs and sings!
He “for the evil and the good,”
For them, who with heart's gratitude,
And them, who thanklessly receive
The blessings he vouchsafes to give,
Bids from his storehouse in the skies
“His rain descend, his sun arise !”
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I love to see kind heav'n bestow
Abundance on mankind below:
Then chief, when 'tis bestow'd on one,
Who lives not for himself alone,
But, like the rich and fruitful ground,
What he receives, disperses round,
In part to bless the sons of men;
And grateful gives a part again,
Like incense-breathing fields, to rise
In tribute to the bounteous skies.
Abundance on mankind below:
Then chief, when 'tis bestow'd on one,
Who lives not for himself alone,
But, like the rich and fruitful ground,
What he receives, disperses round,
In part to bless the sons of men;
And grateful gives a part again,
Like incense-breathing fields, to rise
In tribute to the bounteous skies.
Nor less I love to see the store
Augmented of the lowly poor;
By honest toil industrious wrought,
By frugal care, and prudent thought,
With peacefulness and heart's content,
Which of the Fount of good, that sent
Life and its blessings, mindful, pays
To Him the meed of thankful praise.
And though to Him, who gives us all,
The turf-built altar be but small,
The offering there of little price;
And from that humble sacrifice,
So the world deems, a trivial flame
Ascending, though with heav'nward aim,
With but a feeble light arise,
And seek acceptance from the skies:—
I know not but as rich a scent
That turf-built altar may present,
Expressive of the heart's desire,
That offering poor, and feeble fire,
As grateful to the smell divine;
As, flaming on the golden shrine,
Ten thousand hecatombs, and more,
In homage from the imperial store.
Augmented of the lowly poor;
By honest toil industrious wrought,
By frugal care, and prudent thought,
With peacefulness and heart's content,
Which of the Fount of good, that sent
Life and its blessings, mindful, pays
To Him the meed of thankful praise.
And though to Him, who gives us all,
The turf-built altar be but small,
The offering there of little price;
And from that humble sacrifice,
So the world deems, a trivial flame
Ascending, though with heav'nward aim,
With but a feeble light arise,
And seek acceptance from the skies:—
I know not but as rich a scent
That turf-built altar may present,
Expressive of the heart's desire,
That offering poor, and feeble fire,
As grateful to the smell divine;
As, flaming on the golden shrine,
284
In homage from the imperial store.
To all, what best his wisdom knows,
The bounty of our God bestows.
From all, to whom a boon he gives,
But most from him, who most receives,
In acts below of peace and love,
In acts of praise to Him above,
He claims, of what he gives, a part:
From all at least a thankful heart,
Which, soaring on devotion's wing,
Up to the throne of nature's King
Itself in holy vision lifts,
And owns the Giver in his gifts.
The bounty of our God bestows.
From all, to whom a boon he gives,
But most from him, who most receives,
In acts below of peace and love,
In acts of praise to Him above,
He claims, of what he gives, a part:
From all at least a thankful heart,
Which, soaring on devotion's wing,
Up to the throne of nature's King
Itself in holy vision lifts,
And owns the Giver in his gifts.
287
AUGUST.
The months not personally delineated by the ancient Romans. Uncertain periods of each month's recurrence. August then not capable of being defined by its produce. Evil corrected by Julius Cæsar. Our harvest month. Origin and date of the name
Seems it not strange to them who know
The heathen's proneness to bestow
On all things in yon ambient sky,
In this fair earth, the depths that lie
Beneath, and in the girdling seas,
Their own appropriate deities;
And give each fancied name to wear
Its proper raiment, form, and air:—
Seems it not strange, as onward glides
The year in its quadruple tides,
That every Season should be known
Mark'd by its own peculiar crown,
Its own fit dress; that Night and Day
Should each be clad in its array
Appropriate, and its signs retain
In sculptor's gem and poet's strain;
But that nor strain of poet's lyre,
Nor sculptur'd gem, in meet attire
Shows each successive month array'd?—
As if such meet attire display'd,
How each due portion of the year
Might claim its proper character,
Assuming each its wonted suit
Of calm or storms, of flow'r or fruit.
The heathen's proneness to bestow
On all things in yon ambient sky,
In this fair earth, the depths that lie
Beneath, and in the girdling seas,
Their own appropriate deities;
And give each fancied name to wear
Its proper raiment, form, and air:—
Seems it not strange, as onward glides
The year in its quadruple tides,
That every Season should be known
Mark'd by its own peculiar crown,
Its own fit dress; that Night and Day
Should each be clad in its array
Appropriate, and its signs retain
In sculptor's gem and poet's strain;
But that nor strain of poet's lyre,
Nor sculptur'd gem, in meet attire
Shows each successive month array'd?—
As if such meet attire display'd,
How each due portion of the year
Might claim its proper character,
Assuming each its wonted suit
Of calm or storms, of flow'r or fruit.
And sooth 'twere difficult to say,
What were each Month's most fit array,
So changeful was the Roman place
Assign'd it in the seasons' race
By choice pontifical: that now
The crown befitting August's brow,
Of wheat or grape-impurpled vine,
Might the next year more aptly twine
September's head with bright festoon,
Or mingle with the curls of June .
What were each Month's most fit array,
288
Assign'd it in the seasons' race
By choice pontifical: that now
The crown befitting August's brow,
Of wheat or grape-impurpled vine,
Might the next year more aptly twine
September's head with bright festoon,
Or mingle with the curls of June .
That thus each month should have its post
Unfix'd, in varying error tost,
An ill the prudent Julius felt;
Reform'd the yearly course; and dealt
To each, as round the periods came,
Its own unvarying season's claim:
That now, if graphick art would each
In form and guise appropriate sketch,
August might ever shine in vest
Of wavy gold resplendent drest,
And ever wreaths his brow infold
From the ripe corn-field's ears of gold.
Unfix'd, in varying error tost,
An ill the prudent Julius felt;
Reform'd the yearly course; and dealt
To each, as round the periods came,
Its own unvarying season's claim:
That now, if graphick art would each
In form and guise appropriate sketch,
August might ever shine in vest
Of wavy gold resplendent drest,
And ever wreaths his brow infold
From the ripe corn-field's ears of gold.
289
But August was not then. The time,
Number'd from vernal March, the prime
And outset of the circling year,
Sixth in the rotatory sphere,
Was styl'd Sextilis: till to grace
With trophy meet the monthly space
Illustrious for his victories won,
Great Julius' more successful son
Stamp'd his impress, and left its name
An ensign of Augustus' fame;
And August still delights to bear
The imperial Roman's character.
Number'd from vernal March, the prime
And outset of the circling year,
Sixth in the rotatory sphere,
Was styl'd Sextilis: till to grace
With trophy meet the monthly space
Illustrious for his victories won,
Great Julius' more successful son
Stamp'd his impress, and left its name
An ensign of Augustus' fame;
And August still delights to bear
The imperial Roman's character.
In order to accommodate the lunar to the solar year, the insertion of an intercalary month near the end of February, every second year, was left by Numa to the discretion of the Pontifices: who, by inserting more or fewer days, made the current year longer or shorter, and so transposed the months from their regular seasons. Cicero, in an epistle to Atticus, (B. x., ep. 17,) is understood to speak of the equinox as falling about the middle of May: and Suetonius, in his Life of Julius, (c. 40,) represents the consequence of the disturbance to have been, that the harvest months did not occur in the summer, nor the vintage in autumn. The evil was corrected by Julius Cæsar.
Beauty of the harvest-field. The reapers. The binders. The shocks of sheaves. A part reserved by Providence. Kind precept of the Mosaick law. Calculated to produce mutual benevolence. Spirit of the precept still obligatory. The proprietor. The gleaner
'Tis a fair sight, that vest of gold,
Those wreaths that August's brow infold!
O, 'tis a goodly sight and fair,
To see the fields their produce bear,
Wav'd by the breeze's lingering wing,
So thick they seem to “laugh and sing;”
And call the heart to feel delight,
Rejoicing in that bounteous sight;
And call the reaper's skillful hand,
To cull the riches of the land!
Those wreaths that August's brow infold!
O, 'tis a goodly sight and fair,
To see the fields their produce bear,
Wav'd by the breeze's lingering wing,
So thick they seem to “laugh and sing;”
And call the heart to feel delight,
Rejoicing in that bounteous sight;
And call the reaper's skillful hand,
To cull the riches of the land!
'Tis fair to see the reapers clasp
The corn in their capacious grasp;
The armful's close collected heap
Sheer with the crooked sickle reap,
And on the earth's rich bosom throw;
Meanwhile along each prostrate row
Their faithful partners close behind
Track their advancing steps; and bind,
With twisted wreaths of stalks new shorn,
The bundles of the golden corn,
Where rang'd in seemly guise appear
The upright straw, the bending ear.
The corn in their capacious grasp;
The armful's close collected heap
Sheer with the crooked sickle reap,
And on the earth's rich bosom throw;
Meanwhile along each prostrate row
Their faithful partners close behind
Track their advancing steps; and bind,
290
The bundles of the golden corn,
Where rang'd in seemly guise appear
The upright straw, the bending ear.
'Tis fair to see the farmer build,
Now here now there, throughout the field
With measuring eye correct, that leaves
Fit space between, the number'd sheaves
In shocks progressive! As he piles
The still increasing heaps, with smiles
He counts, and feels his heart run o'er
With gladness at the growing store;
But ill receiv'd, unless repaid
With thankfulness to Him, who made
His sun arise, his rain descend;
And for the good, he deigns to lend,
Reserves a part himself, decreed
The stranger and the poor to feed.
Now here now there, throughout the field
With measuring eye correct, that leaves
Fit space between, the number'd sheaves
In shocks progressive! As he piles
The still increasing heaps, with smiles
He counts, and feels his heart run o'er
With gladness at the growing store;
But ill receiv'd, unless repaid
With thankfulness to Him, who made
His sun arise, his rain descend;
And for the good, he deigns to lend,
Reserves a part himself, decreed
The stranger and the poor to feed.
'Twas a kind precept, in the code
Oft deem'd severe, but such as show'd,
Beyond all codes of mortal man,
Throughout its moral laws a plan
Replete with a benignant sense,
And unrestrain'd benevolence;
'Twas a kind precept, which forbade
The child of Israel, when he laid
His sickle to the loaded ear,
“The corners of his field” to clear
O'ercurious, or with “riddance clean”
“The gleaning of his harvest glean;”
But charg'd him of his yearly store
To leave a portion for “the poor,”
And stamp'd the precept with the sign
Imperial of the Name divine .
Oft deem'd severe, but such as show'd,
Beyond all codes of mortal man,
Throughout its moral laws a plan
Replete with a benignant sense,
And unrestrain'd benevolence;
'Twas a kind precept, which forbade
The child of Israel, when he laid
His sickle to the loaded ear,
“The corners of his field” to clear
O'ercurious, or with “riddance clean”
“The gleaning of his harvest glean;”
But charg'd him of his yearly store
To leave a portion for “the poor,”
291
Imperial of the Name divine .
Hence founded on the will and word
Preceptive of the Sovereign Lord,
Of Him, who being gave and soul
To each, the Father of the whole,
Feelings of mutual kindness sprang
And love fraternal; such as hang
Link upon link, and form a chain
Apt in its cincture to contain
The members, that in fragments lie
Apart, of man's society:
And taught men for the rich to care,
Whose welfare, poor themselves, they share;
Or for the poor, to whom they know
That love, if rich themselves, they owe.
And though to us that ancient law
Have lost its primal force, nor draw
Our acts within its strict behest,
It leaves its spirit still imprest
Undying on the heart and mind;
And bids in worth, if not in kind,
Still “to the poor the corners” yield
And “gleanings of our harvest field.”
Preceptive of the Sovereign Lord,
Of Him, who being gave and soul
To each, the Father of the whole,
Feelings of mutual kindness sprang
And love fraternal; such as hang
Link upon link, and form a chain
Apt in its cincture to contain
The members, that in fragments lie
Apart, of man's society:
And taught men for the rich to care,
Whose welfare, poor themselves, they share;
Or for the poor, to whom they know
That love, if rich themselves, they owe.
And though to us that ancient law
Have lost its primal force, nor draw
Our acts within its strict behest,
It leaves its spirit still imprest
Undying on the heart and mind;
And bids in worth, if not in kind,
Still “to the poor the corners” yield
And “gleanings of our harvest field.”
And so 'tis sweet to see expand
The wealthy owner's liberal hand,
In bounty from his gather'd store:—
Perchance to see the modest poor,
With heedful step and watchful glance
Permitted o'er the tilth advance,
Pleas'd, and collecting what remains
Neglected from the loaded wains:—
Or haply, if with thoughtful mind
Some wealthy Boaz, good and kind,
In pity for some gentle Ruth,
Instruct the sheaf-collecting youth,
Ungather'd ears to drop, and lay
The handfuls in the damsel's way,
Nor turn her from the shocks aside,
Nor with reproofful greeting chide.
The wealthy owner's liberal hand,
In bounty from his gather'd store:—
Perchance to see the modest poor,
With heedful step and watchful glance
Permitted o'er the tilth advance,
292
Neglected from the loaded wains:—
Or haply, if with thoughtful mind
Some wealthy Boaz, good and kind,
In pity for some gentle Ruth,
Instruct the sheaf-collecting youth,
Ungather'd ears to drop, and lay
The handfuls in the damsel's way,
Nor turn her from the shocks aside,
Nor with reproofful greeting chide.
History of Ruth. Her filial affection for her mother-in-law. Her unconquerable attachment. Her gleaning in the harvest-field. The kindness of Boaz. Her marriage. Ruth an ancestress of the Messiah.
Who has not heard; that loves to trace
The records of the Hebrew race,
And in that ancient hallow'd scroll
The tales of simple life unroll,
Mark'd by the lively pen of truth;
Who has not heard of virtuous Ruth?
Who to her husband's mother, left
Of all, of husband, sons bereft,
With zeal of strong affection clave;
Return'd her for the gift she gave
Its worth, a daughter for a son;
In her affliction merg'd her own;
For her forsook her native land;
And sought with her a distant strand,
With tenderness almost above
The yearnings of a daughter's love:
Obedient in all things beside,
Save that besought, she still denied,
That sonless widow to disown,
And leave her helpless and alone.
The records of the Hebrew race,
And in that ancient hallow'd scroll
The tales of simple life unroll,
Mark'd by the lively pen of truth;
Who has not heard of virtuous Ruth?
Who to her husband's mother, left
Of all, of husband, sons bereft,
With zeal of strong affection clave;
Return'd her for the gift she gave
Its worth, a daughter for a son;
In her affliction merg'd her own;
For her forsook her native land;
And sought with her a distant strand,
With tenderness almost above
The yearnings of a daughter's love:
Obedient in all things beside,
Save that besought, she still denied,
That sonless widow to disown,
And leave her helpless and alone.
293
“Intreat me not thy side to leave!
Forbid me not to thee to cleave!
Whither thou strayest, I will stray;
And where thou stayest, I will stay:
Thy people only shall be mine;
No other God I'll know but thine:
There, where thou diest, I will die;
And there insepulcher'd will lie:
The Lord do so, and more, to me,
If aught but death part me and thee!”
Forbid me not to thee to cleave!
Whither thou strayest, I will stray;
And where thou stayest, I will stay:
Thy people only shall be mine;
No other God I'll know but thine:
There, where thou diest, I will die;
And there insepulcher'd will lie:
The Lord do so, and more, to me,
If aught but death part me and thee!”
Who hath not heard, when want and wo
That mother well-belov'd brought low,
And caus'd her in her soul to feel
In her heart's heart the bitter steel,
And mourn that she, whose name had been
Naomi once, was Mara then:—
That mother well-belov'd to shield
From wo and want, the harvest field
How duteous Ruth unbidden sought,
And meekly with the gleaners wrought,
Nor felt it toil, nor thought it scorn,
A stranger in the land, from morn
To noon, from noon to twilight gray,
To bear the burden of the day,
If so she haply might abate
The sorrows of the desolate,
And in her cup of bitter wo
Drops of refreshing comfort throw?
That mother well-belov'd brought low,
And caus'd her in her soul to feel
In her heart's heart the bitter steel,
And mourn that she, whose name had been
Naomi once, was Mara then:—
That mother well-belov'd to shield
From wo and want, the harvest field
How duteous Ruth unbidden sought,
And meekly with the gleaners wrought,
Nor felt it toil, nor thought it scorn,
A stranger in the land, from morn
To noon, from noon to twilight gray,
To bear the burden of the day,
If so she haply might abate
The sorrows of the desolate,
And in her cup of bitter wo
Drops of refreshing comfort throw?
Who hath not heard, the duteous maid
How Boaz' mindful care repaid,
Her virtuous kinsman!—gave command,
To fill with corn the damsel's hand;
Skreen'd her from harm; and bade abide
Securely by his maidens' side:
Gave her at noontide meal to share,
And more, the reaper's simple fare;
With words of greeting kind bespake,
And praise for her affection's sake;
And home return'd her, light of cheer;
To glad her mother's heart, and hear
Affection's willing task approv'd
By the dear voice of her she lov'd,
With thanks to God for kindness shed
Both on the living and the dead?
How Boaz' mindful care repaid,
Her virtuous kinsman!—gave command,
To fill with corn the damsel's hand;
294
Securely by his maidens' side:
Gave her at noontide meal to share,
And more, the reaper's simple fare;
With words of greeting kind bespake,
And praise for her affection's sake;
And home return'd her, light of cheer;
To glad her mother's heart, and hear
Affection's willing task approv'd
By the dear voice of her she lov'd,
With thanks to God for kindness shed
Both on the living and the dead?
Who hath not heard, how fair a spot
Receiv'd that Gentile maiden's lot,
Whose heart-strings to her mother clave:
How their kind kinsman Boaz gave
The alien's child advanc'd to dwell
Among the wives of Israel,
In wealth and honourable rest,
And by the God of Israel blest:—
How, above all her blessings, one
Surpass'd in worth, a first born son:—
How her lov'd mother, whose distress
Had turn'd her joy to bitterness,
Own'd, in the birth of that fair boy,
Her bitterness was turn'd to joy:
A son, by whom, in mercy dealt,
Repair'd each former loss was felt;
A son, ordain'd the future gem
Of Jesse's root, and David's stem;
From whom should spring the promis'd Seed,
The Child of Abraham's race decreed,
Man's Blessing, God's incarnate Truth,
Sprung from the Gentile gleaner Ruth?
Receiv'd that Gentile maiden's lot,
Whose heart-strings to her mother clave:
How their kind kinsman Boaz gave
The alien's child advanc'd to dwell
Among the wives of Israel,
In wealth and honourable rest,
And by the God of Israel blest:—
How, above all her blessings, one
Surpass'd in worth, a first born son:—
How her lov'd mother, whose distress
Had turn'd her joy to bitterness,
Own'd, in the birth of that fair boy,
Her bitterness was turn'd to joy:
A son, by whom, in mercy dealt,
Repair'd each former loss was felt;
A son, ordain'd the future gem
Of Jesse's root, and David's stem;
From whom should spring the promis'd Seed,
The Child of Abraham's race decreed,
295
Sprung from the Gentile gleaner Ruth?
Few August Flowers. Grass of Parnassus. Marsh Felwort or Gentian. Marsh Gentian or Calathian Violet. Autumnal Saffron or Crocus. Meadow Saffron or Colchicum. Blossom of the Meadow Saffron. Its seed-vessel, wonderfully secured
Fair is rich August's golden crown:
But few the blossoms newly blown,
In sort not many, few in kind,
The year's fresh progeny you'll find,
To blend their colours and their breath
With glowing August's golden wreath.
But few the blossoms newly blown,
In sort not many, few in kind,
The year's fresh progeny you'll find,
To blend their colours and their breath
With glowing August's golden wreath.
Yet of those few are some may view
With Flora's fairest family,
In grace, if not in sweet perfume:
Parnassian Grass, with chalic'd bloom
And globes nectareous, like the earl's
Rich coronet, beset with pearls;
Whose stamens, form'd with wondrous power
To fructify the impregnate flower,
Each after each their threads extend,
Each after each their anthers bend,
And on the germen's open head
The fertilising pollen shed,
And thence withdrawing backward trace
Their passage to their former place.
With Flora's fairest family,
In grace, if not in sweet perfume:
Parnassian Grass, with chalic'd bloom
And globes nectareous, like the earl's
Rich coronet, beset with pearls;
Whose stamens, form'd with wondrous power
To fructify the impregnate flower,
Each after each their threads extend,
Each after each their anthers bend,
And on the germen's open head
The fertilising pollen shed,
And thence withdrawing backward trace
Their passage to their former place.
And, see, Marsh Felwort bares to view
His wheel quintuple's brilliant blue,
Cambria, thy pride; if Cambrian coast
Indeed that native beauty boast!
Less apt to pay the searcher's cares,
Than that a kindred name that bears,
The beauty of the Gentian race:
Whose “gallant flow'rs with bravery grace
Or chalky down or meadow wet,
The blue Calathian violet.
And see, from out its purple lips
Its orange pointal's pendent tips
The Autumnal Saffron's tubes disclose;
Nor brighter blossom England knows,
If England may the Saffron claim:—
And to the Saffron but in name
Akin, that proof of nature's care,
By means stupendous, strange and rare,
Mocking the thought of man, to breed
And propagate the latent seed;
Styl'd from its wonted dwelling-place,
The Meadow Saffron's rival grace.
His wheel quintuple's brilliant blue,
Cambria, thy pride; if Cambrian coast
Indeed that native beauty boast!
Less apt to pay the searcher's cares,
Than that a kindred name that bears,
The beauty of the Gentian race:
Whose “gallant flow'rs with bravery grace
296
The blue Calathian violet.
And see, from out its purple lips
Its orange pointal's pendent tips
The Autumnal Saffron's tubes disclose;
Nor brighter blossom England knows,
If England may the Saffron claim:—
And to the Saffron but in name
Akin, that proof of nature's care,
By means stupendous, strange and rare,
Mocking the thought of man, to breed
And propagate the latent seed;
Styl'd from its wonted dwelling-place,
The Meadow Saffron's rival grace.
To Suffolk, where the abbey'd town
Still keeps its martyr'd king's renown;
To Glo'ster springs salubrious go,
Or where through Wor'ster pastures flow
Broad Severn's waves; or, swoln with rills
That fall from Derby's rocky hills,
Wild Darwent hastens to present
His tribute to majestick Trent;
Or go to Monmouth's level meads,
Where Wye the gentle Monnow weds:
Long brilliant tubes of purple hue
The ground in countless myriads strew.
Anon, but brief the space between,
No more those countless tubes are seen:
The meads their verdant cloke resume;
And, with that evanescent bloom,
You deem perhaps its spirit fled,
Abortive, virtue-less, and dead.
Still keeps its martyr'd king's renown;
To Glo'ster springs salubrious go,
Or where through Wor'ster pastures flow
Broad Severn's waves; or, swoln with rills
That fall from Derby's rocky hills,
Wild Darwent hastens to present
His tribute to majestick Trent;
Or go to Monmouth's level meads,
Where Wye the gentle Monnow weds:
Long brilliant tubes of purple hue
The ground in countless myriads strew.
Anon, but brief the space between,
No more those countless tubes are seen:
The meads their verdant cloke resume;
And, with that evanescent bloom,
You deem perhaps its spirit fled,
Abortive, virtue-less, and dead.
297
You deem amiss. Within the breast
Secure of parent earth, the chest,
That holds the embryo fruit, is laid:
Thither, by that long tube convey'd,
Safe from the force of wintry skies
Conceal'd the buried virtue lies.
Till spring-tide from the fostering earth
Shall wake the meditated birth,
The germen on its stalk display'd,
And with embracing leaves array'd:
And when the vernal grasses' bloom
Shall spread the hayfield's rich perfume,
Bright June mature in timely hour
The seeds of August's early flower!
Secure of parent earth, the chest,
That holds the embryo fruit, is laid:
Thither, by that long tube convey'd,
Safe from the force of wintry skies
Conceal'd the buried virtue lies.
Till spring-tide from the fostering earth
Shall wake the meditated birth,
The germen on its stalk display'd,
And with embracing leaves array'd:
And when the vernal grasses' bloom
Shall spread the hayfield's rich perfume,
Bright June mature in timely hour
The seeds of August's early flower!
General provisions for securing the seeds of plants. Different provisions. The Capsule. The Pod. The Legumen. Naked seeds of the Didynamious Class. Seeds of Compound flowers. The Berry. The fleshcovered Capsule. The Stone or Nut. The Cone. Variety of seed-vessels. Their curious formation.
What secret pow'r, mysterious skill,
Still varying, but successful still,
With what profound forecasting views,
Of nice design, does nature use,
From the bright blossom'd flow'r to breed,
Augment, secure the ripening seed:
The ripen'd seed to bring to birth,
That, trusted to the nurturing earth,
Each may fulfill its part assign'd;
And each, according to its kind,
Bring forth again in season due
Stem, branch, and leaf, and blossom new,
Fraught with the embryo seed again;
That nature's wheel may still maintain
Incessant its prolifick course;
When time was born, by sovereign force
Imprest of laws secure and fast,
And still, while time shall live, to last!
Still varying, but successful still,
With what profound forecasting views,
Of nice design, does nature use,
From the bright blossom'd flow'r to breed,
Augment, secure the ripening seed:
The ripen'd seed to bring to birth,
That, trusted to the nurturing earth,
Each may fulfill its part assign'd;
And each, according to its kind,
Bring forth again in season due
Stem, branch, and leaf, and blossom new,
Fraught with the embryo seed again;
That nature's wheel may still maintain
Incessant its prolifick course;
When time was born, by sovereign force
298
And still, while time shall live, to last!
Succeeding to the vacant room,
Where flourish'd late the painted bloom,
Strange forms of differing shape and size
The inquiring eye delight, surprise!
Where flourish'd late the painted bloom,
Strange forms of differing shape and size
The inquiring eye delight, surprise!
Whether the Capsule's jointed chest
Its store with order just invest
In angular or globe-like hold;
Sole, or in chambers manifold
Arrang'd, within their homes decreed,
The separate families of seed;
So swells the Flax his rounded boll:
So, perforate with lateral hole,
Through which from their retreat within
The seeds a thoroughfare may win,
Extend the Throatwort's jointed cells;
And so the pretty Pimpernels
Secure their ripening treasure hid
Beneath a well-compacted lid;
And Poppy his, within a cope
Of oval balls obtuse, which ope
A range of circling valves, around
His disk with rays converging crown'd:—
Its store with order just invest
In angular or globe-like hold;
Sole, or in chambers manifold
Arrang'd, within their homes decreed,
The separate families of seed;
So swells the Flax his rounded boll:
So, perforate with lateral hole,
Through which from their retreat within
The seeds a thoroughfare may win,
Extend the Throatwort's jointed cells;
And so the pretty Pimpernels
Secure their ripening treasure hid
Beneath a well-compacted lid;
And Poppy his, within a cope
Of oval balls obtuse, which ope
A range of circling valves, around
His disk with rays converging crown'd:—
Whether the cruciate flow'r his pod
Contract, of figure short and broad;
As Candytuft, comprest and round,
A shield with circling border bound,
And Shepherd's purse, the counterpart,
In shape, of an inverted heart;
Or stretch his vessel, slim and tall,
Like that which clothes the scented wall,
Or that whose blossoms “silver white
Painted the meadows with delight:”—
Contract, of figure short and broad;
As Candytuft, comprest and round,
A shield with circling border bound,
And Shepherd's purse, the counterpart,
In shape, of an inverted heart;
Or stretch his vessel, slim and tall,
Like that which clothes the scented wall,
299
Painted the meadows with delight:”—
Whether the Broom or flaunting Pea,
Robed in its insect drapery
Of banner broad and balanc'd wings,
Aside its fluttering raiment flings,
And from the keel's expanding bloom
Shoots lengthening forth the full legume:—
Robed in its insect drapery
Of banner broad and balanc'd wings,
Aside its fluttering raiment flings,
And from the keel's expanding bloom
Shoots lengthening forth the full legume:—
Whether beneath embowering helm,
Not like their brethren in the realm
Of nature, who their growing race
Safe in the capsule's folds embrace,
The curv'd and casque-like flow'rs above
O'erarching form a pent-house cove,
Nor aught of treasure-house below
Save in the tube-shaped chalice know,
Defensive of their four-fold seeds;
Such Bugle, Allheal, Selfheal, weeds
In the green pasture, Mint and Baum,
Archangel, and sweet Marjoram,
And sweeter Thyme, whose fragrant head
Bends to the climbing traveller's tread:—
Not like their brethren in the realm
Of nature, who their growing race
Safe in the capsule's folds embrace,
The curv'd and casque-like flow'rs above
O'erarching form a pent-house cove,
Nor aught of treasure-house below
Save in the tube-shaped chalice know,
Defensive of their four-fold seeds;
Such Bugle, Allheal, Selfheal, weeds
In the green pasture, Mint and Baum,
Archangel, and sweet Marjoram,
And sweeter Thyme, whose fragrant head
Bends to the climbing traveller's tread:—
In all boon nature seems to try
Profuse a strange variety;
All curious to the inquiring mind,
All apt to work the end design'd:
And still, as onward still we range,
She strikes us with perpetual change.
Profuse a strange variety;
All curious to the inquiring mind,
All apt to work the end design'd:
And still, as onward still we range,
She strikes us with perpetual change.
On single stem, the feathery down
All radiate, in a central crown
Collected, with a globe-like ball
Surmounts the staff of Goatsbeard tall:
Like-fashion'd, less of lofty place
Ambitious, claim congenial race
Hawkweed and Coltsfoot; Lion's tooth,
Amusive toy of early youth;
Groundsel and Thistle, oft despis'd,
But by the pretty Goldfinch priz'd:—
How many ray-like florets bloom,
To grace the germen's common room,
So many seeds their feathery robe
Unite to form that central globe;
Thence lightly floating on the gale,
Free nature's denizens they sail,
Fain, where a favouring spot they find,
To plant and propagate their kind.
All radiate, in a central crown
Collected, with a globe-like ball
Surmounts the staff of Goatsbeard tall:
300
Ambitious, claim congenial race
Hawkweed and Coltsfoot; Lion's tooth,
Amusive toy of early youth;
Groundsel and Thistle, oft despis'd,
But by the pretty Goldfinch priz'd:—
How many ray-like florets bloom,
To grace the germen's common room,
So many seeds their feathery robe
Unite to form that central globe;
Thence lightly floating on the gale,
Free nature's denizens they sail,
Fain, where a favouring spot they find,
To plant and propagate their kind.
Imbedded in their pulpy coat,
Loose in the juicy berry float
The Rose and Cornel's naked seeds;
And Woodbine's, with translucent beads
In rings of crowded clusters strung;
And Currant's, in thick bunches hung
Dependent; and in many a head
Diffuse the tufted Hawthorn's spread.
There lurk the naked seeds within
The juicy pulp, and glossy skin:
His glossy skin the berry shows
Bright green at first; but ripening glows,
Still varying to the watchful eye,
With scarlet, black, or purple die.
Loose in the juicy berry float
The Rose and Cornel's naked seeds;
And Woodbine's, with translucent beads
In rings of crowded clusters strung;
And Currant's, in thick bunches hung
Dependent; and in many a head
Diffuse the tufted Hawthorn's spread.
There lurk the naked seeds within
The juicy pulp, and glossy skin:
His glossy skin the berry shows
Bright green at first; but ripening glows,
Still varying to the watchful eye,
With scarlet, black, or purple die.
In soft and pulpy coat array'd,
But each in case interior laid
Of twofold membrane, like the skin
Drest from the sheep, opaque and thin,
Their seeds the roseting'd apples bear,
Red Service, and the dull green Pear.
But each in case interior laid
Of twofold membrane, like the skin
Drest from the sheep, opaque and thin,
301
Red Service, and the dull green Pear.
Still in soft pulp and girdling rind,
Nor less in inner coat confin'd
Of stonelike fence impervious, grow
The cherry red and purple sloe.
Without the pulp, in fortress shut
Well guarded, grows the hazel Nut:
And like the nut in lonely cell,
Though not like it in harden'd shell,
But mantled with a leathern cloak,
The kernel of the lordly Oak.
Nor less in inner coat confin'd
Of stonelike fence impervious, grow
The cherry red and purple sloe.
Without the pulp, in fortress shut
Well guarded, grows the hazel Nut:
And like the nut in lonely cell,
Though not like it in harden'd shell,
But mantled with a leathern cloak,
The kernel of the lordly Oak.
While tiers of solid scales, that lap
Each over each, and closely wrap
Their offspring in a strict embrace,
The embryos of a future race,
To form the shapely cone combine,
The seed-chest of the waving Pine.
Each over each, and closely wrap
Their offspring in a strict embrace,
The embryos of a future race,
To form the shapely cone combine,
The seed-chest of the waving Pine.
Such various forms will meet your eye,
If, fond of nature's works, you try
Inquisitive her floral store;
And on each curious method pore
Of unexhausted skill, to breed,
To lodge, and guard the ripening seed.
And haply though the flow'r dispense
More pleasure to the admiring sense
Of those who note the expanding bloom,
And taste its redolent perfume:
I know not but the observant mind
At least may equal pleasure find,
The seed chest's gradual growth to mark;
As, wrought in nature's workshop dark,
By slow degrees from day to day,
From hour to hour, it works its way,
From a mere speck, a jot, a point;
Till form'd each chamber, valve, and joint,
Without, within; howe'er minute
At first, the swoln and ripen'd fruit
The cearments, which their trust inclose
In their dark caverns, open throws,
By elemental aid disjoin'd,
The solar heat, the breathing wind,
The influence of the dropping sky;
And forth the seeds are lanc'd to try,
Where favouring chance may fix the scene,
Their fortune in this wide terrene,
And, nurs'd by nature's genial cares,
Raise like themselves successive heirs.
If, fond of nature's works, you try
Inquisitive her floral store;
And on each curious method pore
Of unexhausted skill, to breed,
To lodge, and guard the ripening seed.
And haply though the flow'r dispense
More pleasure to the admiring sense
Of those who note the expanding bloom,
And taste its redolent perfume:
I know not but the observant mind
At least may equal pleasure find,
The seed chest's gradual growth to mark;
As, wrought in nature's workshop dark,
302
From hour to hour, it works its way,
From a mere speck, a jot, a point;
Till form'd each chamber, valve, and joint,
Without, within; howe'er minute
At first, the swoln and ripen'd fruit
The cearments, which their trust inclose
In their dark caverns, open throws,
By elemental aid disjoin'd,
The solar heat, the breathing wind,
The influence of the dropping sky;
And forth the seeds are lanc'd to try,
Where favouring chance may fix the scene,
Their fortune in this wide terrene,
And, nurs'd by nature's genial cares,
Raise like themselves successive heirs.
The progress of the seed-vessel open to observation. The unfolding of the seed obscure. An opportunity for observation. Mode of rearing Oak plants in Hyacinth glasses. Apparatus. Suspension of the Acorn. Bursting of the bud. The Root. The Tree. Passage for the stem. Tree fit for planting. Its possible future state. Oak described by Spenser. Sir Philip Sidney's Oak at Penshurst. Yardley Oak
They're open to the general view:
And he, who wills it, may pursue
Observant from the natal hour,
Which wakes to life the budded flow'r,
To that, when drooping in decay
Each faded flow'r is past away,
And bloomless leaves the plant and bare;—
Yes, he who will may follow there
Progressively the steps that lead
To perfectness the increasing seed:
Till, bursting from its parent case,
And scatter'd by the feather'd race,
By insect, reptile, beast, or man,
Co-labourers in nature's plan,
Or wafted by the passing wind,
At once a refuge meet it find,
A tomb within the shrouding earth,
And cradle for the future birth.
And he, who wills it, may pursue
Observant from the natal hour,
Which wakes to life the budded flow'r,
To that, when drooping in decay
Each faded flow'r is past away,
And bloomless leaves the plant and bare;—
Yes, he who will may follow there
Progressively the steps that lead
To perfectness the increasing seed:
Till, bursting from its parent case,
And scatter'd by the feather'd race,
By insect, reptile, beast, or man,
Co-labourers in nature's plan,
303
At once a refuge meet it find,
A tomb within the shrouding earth,
And cradle for the future birth.
Less obvious to the inquiring sight,
Hid in the earth and gloomy night,
His trust the seed begins unfold;
Till issuing from that secret hold,
The plant his gradual form displays,
And courts unveil'd the publick gaze.
Hid in the earth and gloomy night,
His trust the seed begins unfold;
Till issuing from that secret hold,
The plant his gradual form displays,
And courts unveil'd the publick gaze.
But would you wish commenc'd to see
The process of that mystery,
Pause for a moment, nor refuse
Your kindly hearing, while the Muse
Would fain a pleasing sight rehearse,
Yet unessay'd in measur'd verse;
Nor yet essay'd, if right she knows,
Save by herself in humbler prose.
The process of that mystery,
Pause for a moment, nor refuse
Your kindly hearing, while the Muse
Would fain a pleasing sight rehearse,
Yet unessay'd in measur'd verse;
Nor yet essay'd, if right she knows,
Save by herself in humbler prose.
Half from the living spring be fill'd
A crystal vase, like those that yield,
To deck the polish'd female's room,
The hyacinth's precocious bloom.
The vessel's narrowing neck to guard,
Be fitted there a rounded card;
And thence, on slender packthread slung,
Or shred of brazen wire, be hung
The Oaktree's shell'd and kernel'd Corn,
Which, at the end inferior borne
Of that dependent line, around
The acorn's swelling body wound,
May dangle mid the crystal vase,
Above the water's limpid face:
Prompt to amuse the watchful eye,
And with strange sight diversify
The dulness of the wintry gloom;
And station'd, where the attemper'd room,
The accustom'd dwelling place, may hold
Its trust secure from nipping cold.
A crystal vase, like those that yield,
To deck the polish'd female's room,
The hyacinth's precocious bloom.
The vessel's narrowing neck to guard,
Be fitted there a rounded card;
And thence, on slender packthread slung,
Or shred of brazen wire, be hung
The Oaktree's shell'd and kernel'd Corn,
Which, at the end inferior borne
Of that dependent line, around
The acorn's swelling body wound,
304
Above the water's limpid face:
Prompt to amuse the watchful eye,
And with strange sight diversify
The dulness of the wintry gloom;
And station'd, where the attemper'd room,
The accustom'd dwelling place, may hold
Its trust secure from nipping cold.
Then, as the trickling vapour glides
About the vessel's moisten'd sides,
Soon from the tapering acorn's end
You'll mark the liquid drop depend.
Nor long, a few brief days between,
Cleaving its hard and shelly skreen
Will first peep out the expansive bud;
And through the narrow cleft protrude
All colourless the slender root,
Which downward, with elongate shoot,
Shall through the genial liquid pass;
And snakelike, mid the girdling glass
To right, to left, its fibres throw
Excursive o'er the pool below.
About the vessel's moisten'd sides,
Soon from the tapering acorn's end
You'll mark the liquid drop depend.
Nor long, a few brief days between,
Cleaving its hard and shelly skreen
Will first peep out the expansive bud;
And through the narrow cleft protrude
All colourless the slender root,
Which downward, with elongate shoot,
Shall through the genial liquid pass;
And snakelike, mid the girdling glass
To right, to left, its fibres throw
Excursive o'er the pool below.
Anon with rival vigour, see
Ascend the rudimental tree,
Unfolded from the twin-born gem!
The twofold leaf at first; the stem
Diminutive, which upward tends,
And from each side progressive sends
Fresh leaves in pairs alternate spread:
Till, taller grown, the aspiring head
Its narrow house indignant spurns;
And for your friendly succour yearns,
To cut its penthouse roof away,
And bare it to the open day.
Ascend the rudimental tree,
Unfolded from the twin-born gem!
The twofold leaf at first; the stem
Diminutive, which upward tends,
And from each side progressive sends
Fresh leaves in pairs alternate spread:
Till, taller grown, the aspiring head
Its narrow house indignant spurns;
And for your friendly succour yearns,
305
And bare it to the open day.
Now pierce the obstructing cope, and grant
Free passage for the aspiring plant,
Forth from his shallow hold to soar.
See by degrees, a foot and more
Releas'd the leafy top ascends;
And still, as on the shoot extends,
And onward, from the shelly sheath
Responds the fibrous root beneath;
Prepar'd when wintry frosts their hold
Have loosen'd on the harden'd mould,
To take his post abroad; to clasp
The soil with firm tenacious grasp;
The tempest's furious force defy,
Lift his aspiring summit high,
Around his spreading branches throw,
And, shaken more, the firmer grow.
Free passage for the aspiring plant,
Forth from his shallow hold to soar.
See by degrees, a foot and more
Releas'd the leafy top ascends;
And still, as on the shoot extends,
And onward, from the shelly sheath
Responds the fibrous root beneath;
Prepar'd when wintry frosts their hold
Have loosen'd on the harden'd mould,
To take his post abroad; to clasp
The soil with firm tenacious grasp;
The tempest's furious force defy,
Lift his aspiring summit high,
Around his spreading branches throw,
And, shaken more, the firmer grow.
And who can say, but that small tree,
Which now in earliest infancy,
Weak as yon thread, its first-born sprig
Puts forth, a slender seedling twig,
May hold its course from stage to stage;
May yet in some far distant age
To lonely musing poet yield
Its shadow brown, impervious shield
Against the sun's meridian stroke,
Like Milton's “monumental oak !”
Or like that monarch of the green,
The goodliest of the woodland scene,
“With body big, and strongly pight,
Deep rooted, and of wondrous height,
With arms full strong and large display'd,
But of his foliage disarray'd ,”
Which still survives the tooth of time,
And lives in that sweet poet's rhime;
Who, while to please the courtly throng
He “moralis'd” his faery “song”
With “faithful love and furious war,”
No less the rural calendar
Deign'd in the humble shepherd's weed
To picture with his pastoral reed,
Sweet Spenser!—Or like that which shades
Delightful Penshurst's classick glades,
There fix'd to mark the natal hour
Of Spenser's friend, in hall or bow'r
Unrivall'd, valiant, learned, free,
Courteous, and good: whose honour'd tree
In learned Jonson's verse remains,
And softer Waller's graceful strains,
Most honour'd for its birthright claim
To bear the gallant Sidney's name!—
Or like that relick of the wood,
In Yardley's sylvan solitude,
Which seem'd to lend a listening ear,
While Cowper's plaintive Muse severe
In “melancholy Jaques' ” vein
Pour'd forth her moralising strain:
And backward traced the aged tree,
Through time's eventful history,
From his last stage of drear decay,
The evening of his closing day,
Up to his full meridian time,
His lusty morn, his joyous prime,
His feeble childhood; when at first
The twofold lobes the seedling burst,
Ev'n as the slender form, which late
Surpassing scarce a feather's weight,
Was from its mighty parent shed,
And dangles on yon fragile thread!
Which now in earliest infancy,
Weak as yon thread, its first-born sprig
Puts forth, a slender seedling twig,
May hold its course from stage to stage;
May yet in some far distant age
To lonely musing poet yield
Its shadow brown, impervious shield
Against the sun's meridian stroke,
Like Milton's “monumental oak !”
Or like that monarch of the green,
The goodliest of the woodland scene,
306
Deep rooted, and of wondrous height,
With arms full strong and large display'd,
But of his foliage disarray'd ,”
Which still survives the tooth of time,
And lives in that sweet poet's rhime;
Who, while to please the courtly throng
He “moralis'd” his faery “song”
With “faithful love and furious war,”
No less the rural calendar
Deign'd in the humble shepherd's weed
To picture with his pastoral reed,
Sweet Spenser!—Or like that which shades
Delightful Penshurst's classick glades,
There fix'd to mark the natal hour
Of Spenser's friend, in hall or bow'r
Unrivall'd, valiant, learned, free,
Courteous, and good: whose honour'd tree
In learned Jonson's verse remains,
And softer Waller's graceful strains,
Most honour'd for its birthright claim
To bear the gallant Sidney's name!—
Or like that relick of the wood,
In Yardley's sylvan solitude,
Which seem'd to lend a listening ear,
While Cowper's plaintive Muse severe
In “melancholy Jaques' ” vein
Pour'd forth her moralising strain:
And backward traced the aged tree,
Through time's eventful history,
307
The evening of his closing day,
Up to his full meridian time,
His lusty morn, his joyous prime,
His feeble childhood; when at first
The twofold lobes the seedling burst,
Ev'n as the slender form, which late
Surpassing scarce a feather's weight,
Was from its mighty parent shed,
And dangles on yon fragile thread!
Yes, Yardley's Oak was once like thee,
Thou slender, weak, incipient Tree!
And frail as is thy substance, thou
May'st be like Yardley's relick now,
When o'er thy scath'd and cloven head
Their frosts a thousand years have shed;
As mighty in thy strength of day,
As graced and reverend in decay!
Thou slender, weak, incipient Tree!
And frail as is thy substance, thou
May'st be like Yardley's relick now,
When o'er thy scath'd and cloven head
Their frosts a thousand years have shed;
As mighty in thy strength of day,
As graced and reverend in decay!
Nobleness of the Oak. Examples of Oaks in full vigour: Great Oak of Panshanger; The Chandos Oak. In incipient decay, Lord Bagot's Park, near Litchfield; Fredville, Kent. In decline, Salcey Forest Oak; Moccas Park Oak; Shelton Oak; Bull Oak in Wedgenock Park; Greendale Oak; King Oak, Savernake Forest; Queen Elizabeth's Oak, Huntingfield; Gospel Oak, Stoneleigh; Cowthorpe Oak, Wetherby. The growth of the Oak, striking proof of divine power. Inference concerning the growth of the gospel
Look nature's green creation through,
What nobler object glads the view,
Than scatheless by the woodman's stroke,
“The unwedgeable and gnarled Oak ,”
Which, August, decks thy scenes, array'd
In all the majesty of shade?
What nobler object glads the view,
Than scatheless by the woodman's stroke,
“The unwedgeable and gnarled Oak ,”
Which, August, decks thy scenes, array'd
In all the majesty of shade?
Whether in youth, or manhood's prime,
He lift his stately head sublime,
And spread his branching arms abroad,
Low bending with their leafy load:
So tall, so broad, the mighty tree,
Which mid Panshanger's scenery,
The lordly Cowper's proud domain,
Waves o'er the green and grassy plain,
Exulting in his shapely height,
His arch'd and feathery foliage light:
So, broader and with denser shade,
Star-proof, pavilioning the glade,
That star nor sun with chequering ray
Can penetrate that dense array,
Known by thy honour's second claim,
Thy oak, most noble Buckingham,
Thy Chandos oak, the grace and crown
Unmatch'd of pleasant Michendon;
Which with wide arms, and branches bent,
And curtain'd, like some giant tent,
About its area's peerless bound,
Sweeps with deep fringe the girdled ground:—
He lift his stately head sublime,
And spread his branching arms abroad,
Low bending with their leafy load:
So tall, so broad, the mighty tree,
Which mid Panshanger's scenery,
308
Waves o'er the green and grassy plain,
Exulting in his shapely height,
His arch'd and feathery foliage light:
So, broader and with denser shade,
Star-proof, pavilioning the glade,
That star nor sun with chequering ray
Can penetrate that dense array,
Known by thy honour's second claim,
Thy oak, most noble Buckingham,
Thy Chandos oak, the grace and crown
Unmatch'd of pleasant Michendon;
Which with wide arms, and branches bent,
And curtain'd, like some giant tent,
About its area's peerless bound,
Sweeps with deep fringe the girdled ground:—
Or, if increasing years begin
O'er the reluctant frame to win
A slight success, and in its course
Check the fresh sap's ascending force:
So, 'mid his sons of fresher growth,
Fresh in the lustihood of youth,
And plants of thy ingenuous care,
Much honour'd Bagot, here and there,
Though proudly still he lift his brow,
Some earlier sire appears to show,
Dismantled of his leafy spray,
The symptoms of a first decay:
So stand in Fredville's sylvan chase,
Each with his own peculiar grace,
All with a common worth indued,
The threefold brethren of the wood,
Where “Stateliness” and “Beauty” vie
To share the prize with “Majesty;”
The goddesses of arms and love
Match'd with the fabled queen of Jove:—
O'er the reluctant frame to win
A slight success, and in its course
Check the fresh sap's ascending force:
So, 'mid his sons of fresher growth,
Fresh in the lustihood of youth,
And plants of thy ingenuous care,
Much honour'd Bagot, here and there,
Though proudly still he lift his brow,
Some earlier sire appears to show,
Dismantled of his leafy spray,
The symptoms of a first decay:
So stand in Fredville's sylvan chase,
Each with his own peculiar grace,
All with a common worth indued,
The threefold brethren of the wood,
309
To share the prize with “Majesty;”
The goddesses of arms and love
Match'd with the fabled queen of Jove:—
Or if, in manhood's late decline,
“When now the gray moss mars his rine,
When his bare boughs are beat by storms,
His summit bald and plough'd by worms,
His grace decay'd, his branches sere ;”
Still marks of dignity appear,
Like silvery locks, which time hath shed
On some age-honour'd Patriarch's head.
“When now the gray moss mars his rine,
When his bare boughs are beat by storms,
His summit bald and plough'd by worms,
His grace decay'd, his branches sere ;”
Still marks of dignity appear,
Like silvery locks, which time hath shed
On some age-honour'd Patriarch's head.
Such 'mid the flush of berried thorns,
That Salcey's verdant woods adorns,
The antique trunk's still sprouting shell,
Whose wide and excavated cell,
Wreath'd with fantastick branches bare,
Yields the tall deer a welcome lair:—
That Salcey's verdant woods adorns,
The antique trunk's still sprouting shell,
Whose wide and excavated cell,
Wreath'd with fantastick branches bare,
Yields the tall deer a welcome lair:—
Such Herefordian Moccas', nigh
The windings of the pastoral Wye,
Within whose cave for refuge creep
In days of peace the pastur'd sheep,
Where, round its then uninjur'd root,
Hand strove with hand, and foot with foot,
And nature heard with deep-drawn sighs
The rival roses' warrior cries:—
The windings of the pastoral Wye,
Within whose cave for refuge creep
In days of peace the pastur'd sheep,
Where, round its then uninjur'd root,
Hand strove with hand, and foot with foot,
And nature heard with deep-drawn sighs
The rival roses' warrior cries:—
Such Shelton's, once the look-out tower,
So fame reports, of wild Glendower,
Impatient for the Hotspur's host;
What time on Severn's sedgy coast
By Shrewsbury's temples floated wide
The royal Henry's banner'd pride;
And thence still seen, by Severn's stream,
Thy tow'rs and spires, fair Shrewsbury, gleam,
As fresh from deep Langollen's vale
The eyes broad England's meadows hail:—
So fame reports, of wild Glendower,
Impatient for the Hotspur's host;
What time on Severn's sedgy coast
310
The royal Henry's banner'd pride;
And thence still seen, by Severn's stream,
Thy tow'rs and spires, fair Shrewsbury, gleam,
As fresh from deep Langollen's vale
The eyes broad England's meadows hail:—
Such Wedgenock's, whose time-hollow'd bole
Has twenty swains, as with a stole,
Inclos'd; and in that cavern'd round
The ox a spacious stall has found:—
Has twenty swains, as with a stole,
Inclos'd; and in that cavern'd round
The ox a spacious stall has found:—
Such Greendale's tall and trunk-form'd arch,
Through which a banner'd host might march,
And in its shade, itself a wood,
Two hundred shelter'd kine have stood:-
Through which a banner'd host might march,
And in its shade, itself a wood,
Two hundred shelter'd kine have stood:-
Such Savernake's majestick tree,
Bearing the style of royalty;
And Huntingfield's, which mindful fame
Stamps with Eliza's regal name,
And tells of Hunsdon's princely courts,
Tree-pillar'd hall, and woodland sports,
And walks, and bow'rs, and buck laid low
By arrow from the queenly bow:—
Bearing the style of royalty;
And Huntingfield's, which mindful fame
Stamps with Eliza's regal name,
And tells of Hunsdon's princely courts,
Tree-pillar'd hall, and woodland sports,
And walks, and bow'rs, and buck laid low
By arrow from the queenly bow:—
Such in lone Stoneleigh's coppic'd lea,
The “holy oak, the Gospel tree;”
Where duly, as the village throng
Paced their parochial bounds along,
The Priest in words of peace and love
Told of the God who reigns above,
With blessings for the earth's increase;
And still the relick breathes of peace:—
The “holy oak, the Gospel tree;”
Where duly, as the village throng
Paced their parochial bounds along,
The Priest in words of peace and love
Told of the God who reigns above,
With blessings for the earth's increase;
And still the relick breathes of peace:—
Such first in size, if last in place,
The giant of that giant race;
Though scant in summer leaves array'd;
But casting with its trunk a shade,
Twice twenty men it claims to hold
Within that trunk's capacious fold;
Cowthorpe, thy venerable boast!
Nor England from her forest host
Of worthies can produce a son,
To match this woodland chief; nor one,
Who dares to loftier praise aspire,
Than children round a patriarch sire !
The giant of that giant race;
311
But casting with its trunk a shade,
Twice twenty men it claims to hold
Within that trunk's capacious fold;
Cowthorpe, thy venerable boast!
Nor England from her forest host
Of worthies can produce a son,
To match this woodland chief; nor one,
Who dares to loftier praise aspire,
Than children round a patriarch sire !
'Twere wonder less in days of yore,
Unlighten'd by celestial lore,
If with innate corruption blind,
To superstition prone, the mind
The stately oak's age-honour'd tree
Held consecrate to Deity,
And with obscure devotion felt,
That there the present Godhead dwelt.
Much more I wonder, in the days
When pure religion lends her rays
To lighten reason, if the mind,
To senseless unbelief consign'd,
Or cold indifference, can see
The slender seed, the stately tree;
And not, by faith upborne, her flight
Essay beyond the realms of sight,
Far off the primal Cause revere,
And cry, “The hand of God is here!”
Unlighten'd by celestial lore,
If with innate corruption blind,
To superstition prone, the mind
The stately oak's age-honour'd tree
Held consecrate to Deity,
And with obscure devotion felt,
That there the present Godhead dwelt.
Much more I wonder, in the days
When pure religion lends her rays
To lighten reason, if the mind,
To senseless unbelief consign'd,
Or cold indifference, can see
The slender seed, the stately tree;
And not, by faith upborne, her flight
Essay beyond the realms of sight,
Far off the primal Cause revere,
And cry, “The hand of God is here!”
312
Yes: guided by himself to know
God in his works display'd below,
Here on his earth the outward signs,
Whereby his glorious Godhead shines,
His own seen handywork we own;
Then yonder on his unseen throne
Seek him with faith's enlighten'd eye,
And there “the Invisible” descry .
But who would here contented pause?
Who, once induc'd effect and cause
To balance, can forbear the thought?
“If, through his works of nature taught,
Proof of the Name Divine we see,
Who from the seed produc'd the tree,
Effect so grand from cause so slight:
Whose was the wisdom and the might,
Which sow'd the gospel seed minute,
And in its season gave to shoot
A mighty tree; and bade it stand
The centre of the thirsty land,
And lift unblench'd its stately form,
Despite the rage of time and storm;
Where all the fowls of heav'n might flee,
And in its branching canopy
Securely build the shelter'd nest,
And dwell in safety and in rest!
God in his works display'd below,
Here on his earth the outward signs,
Whereby his glorious Godhead shines,
His own seen handywork we own;
Then yonder on his unseen throne
Seek him with faith's enlighten'd eye,
And there “the Invisible” descry .
But who would here contented pause?
Who, once induc'd effect and cause
To balance, can forbear the thought?
“If, through his works of nature taught,
Proof of the Name Divine we see,
Who from the seed produc'd the tree,
Effect so grand from cause so slight:
Whose was the wisdom and the might,
Which sow'd the gospel seed minute,
And in its season gave to shoot
A mighty tree; and bade it stand
The centre of the thirsty land,
And lift unblench'd its stately form,
Despite the rage of time and storm;
Where all the fowls of heav'n might flee,
And in its branching canopy
Securely build the shelter'd nest,
And dwell in safety and in rest!
For portraits, and many curious particulars, of the Trees named above, reference may be had to Strutt's Sylva Britannica.
Singing birds generally silent in August. Late singers; Yellow Hammer, Goldfinch. Freshwater or sea birds. Sandpiper or Summer Snipe. Ring Dotterel or Sand Lark. Curlew
Mute now the voice of tuneful song!
The swelling throat, the quivering tongue,
Their sounds of joyousness forbear:
Though countless pinions brush the air,
And ceaseless thread the leafy tree,
Mute is the wonted minstrelsy;
And wrapt alike of old and young
In silence that promiscuous throng:
Too youthful these to pour the note
Of rapture from the feeble throat;
Those all unmindful of the power,
Which in the spring's inspiring hour
Thrill'd the brisk veins with love or glee,
And tun'd the voice to ecstasy.
Save that the bird, his golden crown
Who marks with arched streaks of brown,
Will tell at times his amorous tale
With hurried trill and plaintive wail:
Or the gay Finch of golden wing
Attune his little pipe, to sing
Perch'd on the thistle's downy head,
That waving shades his consort's bed,
His spritely madrigal of love:
Most late the nestling cares to prove;
Among the last his feather'd brood
To usher from their trim abode,
Among the latest to prolong
In August's ear his lively song.
The swelling throat, the quivering tongue,
313
Though countless pinions brush the air,
And ceaseless thread the leafy tree,
Mute is the wonted minstrelsy;
And wrapt alike of old and young
In silence that promiscuous throng:
Too youthful these to pour the note
Of rapture from the feeble throat;
Those all unmindful of the power,
Which in the spring's inspiring hour
Thrill'd the brisk veins with love or glee,
And tun'd the voice to ecstasy.
Save that the bird, his golden crown
Who marks with arched streaks of brown,
Will tell at times his amorous tale
With hurried trill and plaintive wail:
Or the gay Finch of golden wing
Attune his little pipe, to sing
Perch'd on the thistle's downy head,
That waving shades his consort's bed,
His spritely madrigal of love:
Most late the nestling cares to prove;
Among the last his feather'd brood
To usher from their trim abode,
Among the latest to prolong
In August's ear his lively song.
Nor is the air from musick free
Of such as by the briny sea,
In sound or creek their pastime take,
River or pebble-margin'd lake.
Here hurrying by, on foot and wing,
With his barr'd tail's elastick spring,
From snowy breast the plaintive pipe
Sounds clearly of the Summer-snipe.
There with white throat and gorget dark,
Bird of the shore, the Dottrel Lark
With sharp brisk cry and whistle shrill
From his half-black, half-orange bill,
Skims skirtingly the porous sand,
For what of food the barren strand
Has from the depths of ocean won:—
There in short flights they flit or run,
And, as the tide with curling waves
Laves their quick feet, or well-nigh laves,
Pick from the edge the crawling prey,
And twittering shun the whelming spray.
Nor wants there oft more shrill and loud,
Where o'er yon beach that living cloud
Hovering alights on dappled wings,
Or upward from the banquet springs
Piping their gathering cry anew,
The watchnote of the dark Curlew.
Of such as by the briny sea,
In sound or creek their pastime take,
River or pebble-margin'd lake.
Here hurrying by, on foot and wing,
With his barr'd tail's elastick spring,
314
Sounds clearly of the Summer-snipe.
There with white throat and gorget dark,
Bird of the shore, the Dottrel Lark
With sharp brisk cry and whistle shrill
From his half-black, half-orange bill,
Skims skirtingly the porous sand,
For what of food the barren strand
Has from the depths of ocean won:—
There in short flights they flit or run,
And, as the tide with curling waves
Laves their quick feet, or well-nigh laves,
Pick from the edge the crawling prey,
And twittering shun the whelming spray.
Nor wants there oft more shrill and loud,
Where o'er yon beach that living cloud
Hovering alights on dappled wings,
Or upward from the banquet springs
Piping their gathering cry anew,
The watchnote of the dark Curlew.
Fear's alarum-cry. The Hawk. Pursued by Swallows. Terror of the small birds. The Partridge. The domestick Hen. Contents of the Hawk's nest. Feeling of the tender heart. Apology for the Hawk. All creatures have their parts and uses. Universal prevalence of the divine will. The divine care for all
But other sounds than those of love,
And other sounds than such as move
The heart to sympathetick joy,
The air's tranquillity destroy.
And other sounds than such as move
The heart to sympathetick joy,
The air's tranquillity destroy.
Hark! 'tis quick fear's alarum cry!
See from yon eyry, where on high
She fix'd her rudely-builded nest,
Or in a stranger's home, possest
Erewhile by pie or plundering crow,
Preferr'd her future race to stow;
Intent to seise the bleeding food
Defenceless, for her nestling brood
Carnivorous, clamouring for their prey,
The Hawk rapacious wings her way!
See from yon eyry, where on high
She fix'd her rudely-builded nest,
Or in a stranger's home, possest
Erewhile by pie or plundering crow,
Preferr'd her future race to stow;
315
Defenceless, for her nestling brood
Carnivorous, clamouring for their prey,
The Hawk rapacious wings her way!
See, as she skims the cornfield low,
Or skirts the hedge's thorny row,
There where his smooth and glossy leaves
Of arrowy shape the Bindweed weaves,
With bells of milky white intwin'd:
And with those milkwhite bells combin'd,
In gay festoons aspiring reach
The blossoms of the purple Vetch,
And bending by the watery mead
The Bullrush waves his club-like head;
The watchful Swallow notes her flight,
And with his clarion sharp to fight
Calls all his kindred tribes around!
Responsive to the alarum sound,
His kindred tribes assail the foe,
With voice and pinion, scream and blow,
Down darting fierce; then mounting high
Abrupt her baffled rage defy,
Till frustrate of her fated prey
The indignant plunderer sails away.
Or skirts the hedge's thorny row,
There where his smooth and glossy leaves
Of arrowy shape the Bindweed weaves,
With bells of milky white intwin'd:
And with those milkwhite bells combin'd,
In gay festoons aspiring reach
The blossoms of the purple Vetch,
And bending by the watery mead
The Bullrush waves his club-like head;
The watchful Swallow notes her flight,
And with his clarion sharp to fight
Calls all his kindred tribes around!
Responsive to the alarum sound,
His kindred tribes assail the foe,
With voice and pinion, scream and blow,
Down darting fierce; then mounting high
Abrupt her baffled rage defy,
Till frustrate of her fated prey
The indignant plunderer sails away.
Meanwhile within the rustling brake
The little birds more timorous quake,
Faint, and as if by magick charm
Disabled, at that dread alarm;
Nor dare they brook, nor can they fly,
The enchantment of that gorgon eye,
Whate'er selected victim chance
To meet its paralysing glance.
As in a dread and feverish dream
Beset with threatening foes, we seem
To strive, but strive in vain, to flee:
Lost in the fruitless strife, the knee
Fails of its wonted strength unstrung,
And fails the inarticulate tongue,
While murmurs indistinct disclose
The labouring bosom's painful throes.
The little birds more timorous quake,
Faint, and as if by magick charm
Disabled, at that dread alarm;
Nor dare they brook, nor can they fly,
The enchantment of that gorgon eye,
Whate'er selected victim chance
To meet its paralysing glance.
316
Beset with threatening foes, we seem
To strive, but strive in vain, to flee:
Lost in the fruitless strife, the knee
Fails of its wonted strength unstrung,
And fails the inarticulate tongue,
While murmurs indistinct disclose
The labouring bosom's painful throes.
But in the cornfield's waving shade
The cowering Partridge lurks afraid,
With beating heart and upcast eye:
And with affliction's bitter cry
And restless step, the household Hen
Loud cackling to the sheltering pen
Her scatter'd chicks recalls, and flings
O'er the close mass her ruffled wings.
The cowering Partridge lurks afraid,
With beating heart and upcast eye:
And with affliction's bitter cry
And restless step, the household Hen
Loud cackling to the sheltering pen
Her scatter'd chicks recalls, and flings
O'er the close mass her ruffled wings.
Ah! fatal cause have they to know
Their peril from that ravening foe!
Scale, if you can, her place of rest:
There remnants of their former feast
You'll haply find dispers'd among
Her yet unfledg'd rapacious young:
Of every weak defenceless brood
The ravish'd nestlings; steep'd in blood
Plumes 'mid the dying victim's moans,
Half-eaten forms, and fleshless bones.
Their peril from that ravening foe!
Scale, if you can, her place of rest:
There remnants of their former feast
You'll haply find dispers'd among
Her yet unfledg'd rapacious young:
Of every weak defenceless brood
The ravish'd nestlings; steep'd in blood
Plumes 'mid the dying victim's moans,
Half-eaten forms, and fleshless bones.
It seems a righteous sense, of kind
And good and merciful combin'd,
Which from the beak'd and talon'd bird,
Rapacious of the feebler herd,
And joying in her bloody spoil,
Bids the unharden'd heart recoil!
And good and merciful combin'd,
Which from the beak'd and talon'd bird,
Rapacious of the feebler herd,
317
Bids the unharden'd heart recoil!
But let the blameless Hawk go free
From charge of wanton cruelty;
If all unconcious of offence,
And prompted by the instinctive sense,
Fix'd and inherent in her frame,
To answer hunger's craving claim;
She takes, with nature for her guide,
The boon, which nature's cares provide,
Her proper food. Nor see I why,
If on the worm, the slug, the fly,
To whom a sense by bounteous heaven
Of pleasure and of pain is given,
Of life and death, with little heed
The birds of pow'r inferior feed;
These should not in their turn supply
To their strong brethren of the sky,
With pow'rs surpassing theirs indued,
Their staff of life, their needful food.
From charge of wanton cruelty;
If all unconcious of offence,
And prompted by the instinctive sense,
Fix'd and inherent in her frame,
To answer hunger's craving claim;
She takes, with nature for her guide,
The boon, which nature's cares provide,
Her proper food. Nor see I why,
If on the worm, the slug, the fly,
To whom a sense by bounteous heaven
Of pleasure and of pain is given,
Of life and death, with little heed
The birds of pow'r inferior feed;
These should not in their turn supply
To their strong brethren of the sky,
With pow'rs surpassing theirs indued,
Their staff of life, their needful food.
All fill their parts in nature's plan:
All have their uses in their span
Of brief existence; to our sight
Though of those uses some in light
Stand forth distinct, some dimly shown,
Some veil'd in darkness, which the throne
Of God incircles! All fulfil,
Whate'er it be, the sovereing will:
For all he cares, that every kind
Hold, as he wills, its place defin'd;
That none, its race exhausted, fail;
That none its measure in the scale
Of life surpass; that all, that each,
Its rank in nature's muster reach.
His wisdom trains the Hawk to fly,
And teaches where her wings to ply :—
He bids the Eagle mount, and dwell
High on the rocky pinnacle,
Far off descry the battle plain,
And speed to revel on the slain :—
He bids her young suck up the blood:—
Provides the Raven with his food,
As famish'd here and there he flies,
And listens to his nestlings' cries :
He from afar the Swallow calls ,
And marks it, when a Sparrow falls '
All have their uses in their span
Of brief existence; to our sight
Though of those uses some in light
Stand forth distinct, some dimly shown,
Some veil'd in darkness, which the throne
Of God incircles! All fulfil,
Whate'er it be, the sovereing will:
For all he cares, that every kind
Hold, as he wills, its place defin'd;
That none, its race exhausted, fail;
That none its measure in the scale
318
Its rank in nature's muster reach.
His wisdom trains the Hawk to fly,
And teaches where her wings to ply :—
He bids the Eagle mount, and dwell
High on the rocky pinnacle,
Far off descry the battle plain,
And speed to revel on the slain :—
He bids her young suck up the blood:—
Provides the Raven with his food,
As famish'd here and there he flies,
And listens to his nestlings' cries :
He from afar the Swallow calls ,
And marks it, when a Sparrow falls '
Falconry. The Hawk a mark of gentility. Favourite sorts. Skill in training. The Hawking party. The Hawk and the Heron. The Heron's defence. The Hawk's victory. The Heron, royal game.
Time was, in pleasures of the field
The Hawk no common station held:
Join'd with the horse and dog of chase
She mark'd the man of gentle race.
So generous Lane, when Worcester fight
Had crown'd the wrong, and crush'd the right,
True to the weak but virtuous side,
Rode forth his sovereign's guard and guide,
About his feet his spaniels bland,
His falcon on his gallant hand .
Nor than the Merlin on the fist,
And buckled to the shapely wrist,
Did seemlier ornament proclaim
The presence of the high-born dame.
The Hawk no common station held:
Join'd with the horse and dog of chase
She mark'd the man of gentle race.
So generous Lane, when Worcester fight
Had crown'd the wrong, and crush'd the right,
True to the weak but virtuous side,
Rode forth his sovereign's guard and guide,
About his feet his spaniels bland,
His falcon on his gallant hand .
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And buckled to the shapely wrist,
Did seemlier ornament proclaim
The presence of the high-born dame.
'Twas work for science then to choose
Meet tenants for the well-stock'd mews:—
The Goshawk, train'd for quarry low,
More short of wing, of speed more slow;
Of form a swifter flight to bear,
The Merlin, bird of lady fair;
Kestrel, whose hovering wings defy
The ruffling gale; the Hobby's eye,
Keen as the fiery lightning's ray;
Tarcel, and centil Falcon gray,
Most apt of all the rapid kind
To soar, and leave the sight behind:
That male, but this of female sex;
Supreme with peerless might to vex,
And down the appointed quarry bring;
Of form more large, more fleet of wing.
Meet tenants for the well-stock'd mews:—
The Goshawk, train'd for quarry low,
More short of wing, of speed more slow;
Of form a swifter flight to bear,
The Merlin, bird of lady fair;
Kestrel, whose hovering wings defy
The ruffling gale; the Hobby's eye,
Keen as the fiery lightning's ray;
Tarcel, and centil Falcon gray,
Most apt of all the rapid kind
To soar, and leave the sight behind:
That male, but this of female sex;
Supreme with peerless might to vex,
And down the appointed quarry bring;
Of form more large, more fleet of wing.
Nor trivial was the falconer's part,
By physick, diet, skillful art,
From lawless habits to reclaim
Of untaught nature wild, and tame
Those restless tenants of the wood:—
Involv'd within the shrouding hood,
To check the roving eye; to dress
The leg with the tenacious jess,
And train them to the wonted hand;
Teach them to know and heed command,
On the rous'd quarry dart away,
Nor down the wind inglorious stray,
Nor scorn the homeward lure; to tell
Their movements by the tinkling bell;
And quick return from holt or hill,
True to their guardian's whistle shrill.
By physick, diet, skillful art,
From lawless habits to reclaim
Of untaught nature wild, and tame
Those restless tenants of the wood:—
Involv'd within the shrouding hood,
To check the roving eye; to dress
The leg with the tenacious jess,
And train them to the wonted hand;
Teach them to know and heed command,
On the rous'd quarry dart away,
Nor down the wind inglorious stray,
320
Their movements by the tinkling bell;
And quick return from holt or hill,
True to their guardian's whistle shrill.
Then might you see the antique hall,
Compliant with the falconer's call,
Pour forth its tenants young and old,
Highborn and menial, to behold
The Hawk's and Heron's airy strife,
The prize the conquer'd champion's life.
Compliant with the falconer's call,
Pour forth its tenants young and old,
Highborn and menial, to behold
The Hawk's and Heron's airy strife,
The prize the conquer'd champion's life.
So sallying from the arch-way gate,
With hat and plume in highborn state
The damsel fair on palfrey light,
On prancing steed the courteous knight,
In suits of Kendal green array'd
Troop to the sport the cavalcade.
Afoot the joyous sport to share,
The humbler denizens repair;
Nor the swinkt villagers refrain
To join the gay patrician train.
With hat and plume in highborn state
The damsel fair on palfrey light,
On prancing steed the courteous knight,
In suits of Kendal green array'd
Troop to the sport the cavalcade.
Afoot the joyous sport to share,
The humbler denizens repair;
Nor the swinkt villagers refrain
To join the gay patrician train.
See from the lake the Heron rise!
At once unjess'd, unhooded, flies
Intent the quarry's course to balk,
Swift as the wind, the soaring Hawk.
Now up, and up, and up she springs;
Nor less the Heron strains his wings,
With purpose each to gain on high
The ascendant of the upper sky:
Nor fears the Heron, safe above,
His foe's abated force to prove;
Nor hopes the Hawk with stroke to smite
Effectual from a lower height.
At once unjess'd, unhooded, flies
Intent the quarry's course to balk,
Swift as the wind, the soaring Hawk.
Now up, and up, and up she springs;
Nor less the Heron strains his wings,
With purpose each to gain on high
The ascendant of the upper sky:
Nor fears the Heron, safe above,
His foe's abated force to prove;
Nor hopes the Hawk with stroke to smite
Effectual from a lower height.
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'Tis done: the first contention's o'er!
See, see, the Hawk superior soar!
See, downward she directs the blow,
Descending on her game below,
Not vanquish'd yet! Resisting still
His neck he doubles; and his bill
Projects behind the spreading wing,
Prepared to meet the rapid fling
Of the down-rushing foe; prepar'd
At once his vital parts to guard,
And on that piercing point below
Greet in full tilt the assailing foe.
So on the steel-fenc'd line the force
Bears on of the descending horse:
So to the horse in swift descent
Their spikes the steel-fenc'd line present.
See, see, the Hawk superior soar!
See, downward she directs the blow,
Descending on her game below,
Not vanquish'd yet! Resisting still
His neck he doubles; and his bill
Projects behind the spreading wing,
Prepared to meet the rapid fling
Of the down-rushing foe; prepar'd
At once his vital parts to guard,
And on that piercing point below
Greet in full tilt the assailing foe.
So on the steel-fenc'd line the force
Bears on of the descending horse:
So to the horse in swift descent
Their spikes the steel-fenc'd line present.
Now, Falcon, aim thy stroke aright,
To crush the wing, and mar the flight
Defensive, of thy destin'd prey;
Till, vanquish'd in the mortal fray,
He sink beneath thy talon's wound,
And strike with flapping wing the ground!
To crush the wing, and mar the flight
Defensive, of thy destin'd prey;
Till, vanquish'd in the mortal fray,
He sink beneath thy talon's wound,
And strike with flapping wing the ground!
Now, Heron, on thy pointed bill
Receive, thy only chance, and drill
With thy keen weapon home addrest
The fierce assailant's naked breast!
Receive, thy only chance, and drill
With thy keen weapon home addrest
The fierce assailant's naked breast!
In vain, the Falcon's well-aim'd stroke
Has first the spreading pinion broke:
The next with keener force has shred
In twain the unprotected head:
Nor mantling plumes, nor flowing crest,
Can that resistless pounce arrest.
Vanquish'd he falls. The gazing crowd,
With upcast eyes, and clamour loud,
Exulting hail the victim's fall;
And lifeless to the lordly hall,
Fruit of the sport, the royal game
Is borne in triumph home, to claim,
To swan or peacock next in place,
The banquet's sumptuous board to grace.
Has first the spreading pinion broke:
The next with keener force has shred
In twain the unprotected head:
Nor mantling plumes, nor flowing crest,
Can that resistless pounce arrest.
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With upcast eyes, and clamour loud,
Exulting hail the victim's fall;
And lifeless to the lordly hall,
Fruit of the sport, the royal game
Is borne in triumph home, to claim,
To swan or peacock next in place,
The banquet's sumptuous board to grace.
Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. iii., p. 418, edit. 1731: which contains an engraving, representing the scene mentioned above.
Falconry succeeded by fowling. Season for Grouse shooting. Moor-fowl, or red Grouse. White Grouse or Ptarmigan. His change of plumage. Black-cock, almost extinct in the south. The Fowler's enjoyment. What conduct most agreeable to the divine will, and to humanity
But times are chang'd. No longer drest,
And serv'd to grace the sumptuous feast,
His rank the heron holds: no more
The hawk by art is train'd to soar,
The heron's foe. The garland now,
Which deck'd erewhile the falconer's brow,
Is by the rival fowler won;
The hawk has yielded to the gun.
And serv'd to grace the sumptuous feast,
His rank the heron holds: no more
The hawk by art is train'd to soar,
The heron's foe. The garland now,
Which deck'd erewhile the falconer's brow,
Is by the rival fowler won;
The hawk has yielded to the gun.
And now's the season to begin
The Fowler's envied meed to win.
The Fowler's envied meed to win.
In northern England's uplands wild,
Or where the Cambrian mountains, piled
Height upon height, with heathery bed
Immixt their rifted valleys spread;
In Erin's mountain bogs; but most
Romantick Scotland's moorland boast,
Where the thick mantled waste, beneath
The blossoms of the tufted heath,
At once repose and food supplies,
Mix'd with the purple bogberries;
The Moor-fowl to the uncultur'd height
The sportsman's toilsome steps invite,
Their haunts o'ergrown and low to track:
There, old and young, the assembled “pack”
Of black and red their plumage pied
Close in the dingy covert hide,
Not apt the stranger's eye to meet
Unpractis'd: till from that close seat
Flush'd by the restless dog they spring;
When, lo! the loud and whirring wing,
Scarce mounting o'er the heathery ground,
Alas! the well-aimed shot has found.
Or where the Cambrian mountains, piled
Height upon height, with heathery bed
Immixt their rifted valleys spread;
In Erin's mountain bogs; but most
Romantick Scotland's moorland boast,
Where the thick mantled waste, beneath
The blossoms of the tufted heath,
At once repose and food supplies,
Mix'd with the purple bogberries;
The Moor-fowl to the uncultur'd height
The sportsman's toilsome steps invite,
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There, old and young, the assembled “pack”
Of black and red their plumage pied
Close in the dingy covert hide,
Not apt the stranger's eye to meet
Unpractis'd: till from that close seat
Flush'd by the restless dog they spring;
When, lo! the loud and whirring wing,
Scarce mounting o'er the heathery ground,
Alas! the well-aimed shot has found.
But on the mountain's steeper ledge,
Cairngorm, or huge Ben-Nevis' edge,
Whence the far eyes the prospect take
Of rock and forest, sea and lake;
With leg and foot, may well compare
Close-feather'd with the fur-clad hare,
Birds, more sequester'd still, maintain
Aloft their solitary reign.
There patient of the mountain cold,
Secure on their aërial hold
From fox or wild-cat's talon'd paw,
From raven's beak and eagle's claw,
But not secure from venturous man,
Oft falls the lonely Ptarmigan.
Heedless of danger, one by one,
They fall before the fowler's gun,
As o'er the lichen-mantled rock,
Or bushy heath, in kindred flock
Of hiding inexpert they stray;
And stain with red their mottled gray:
Ere yet the bird, who lately drest
His feathers in their summer vest
Of brown with lighter tints arrang'd,
Has now his autumn colours chang'd,
And for the mottled gray assumes
The whiteness of his winter plumes.
Poor bird! 'tis his no more to know
Those winter plumes, as white as snow,
Which drifted clothes his mountain rock:
No more to lead his houshold flock
Free o'er their native pastures bare,
And pick at large their scanty fare.
Too blest, no danger had he known,
But rocks and barren wilds alone!
Cairngorm, or huge Ben-Nevis' edge,
Whence the far eyes the prospect take
Of rock and forest, sea and lake;
With leg and foot, may well compare
Close-feather'd with the fur-clad hare,
Birds, more sequester'd still, maintain
Aloft their solitary reign.
There patient of the mountain cold,
Secure on their aërial hold
From fox or wild-cat's talon'd paw,
From raven's beak and eagle's claw,
But not secure from venturous man,
Oft falls the lonely Ptarmigan.
Heedless of danger, one by one,
They fall before the fowler's gun,
As o'er the lichen-mantled rock,
Or bushy heath, in kindred flock
Of hiding inexpert they stray;
And stain with red their mottled gray:
Ere yet the bird, who lately drest
His feathers in their summer vest
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Has now his autumn colours chang'd,
And for the mottled gray assumes
The whiteness of his winter plumes.
Poor bird! 'tis his no more to know
Those winter plumes, as white as snow,
Which drifted clothes his mountain rock:
No more to lead his houshold flock
Free o'er their native pastures bare,
And pick at large their scanty fare.
Too blest, no danger had he known,
But rocks and barren wilds alone!
He too, with curv'd and forked tail,
Whose wonted offspring southward fail,
By growing culture thence pursued
To haunt the northern mountain wood;
The Black Cock with his dappled mate;
He too is doom'd beneath the weight
Of the quick vollied flash to bleed,
And swell the skilful fowler's meed.
Whose wonted offspring southward fail,
By growing culture thence pursued
To haunt the northern mountain wood;
The Black Cock with his dappled mate;
He too is doom'd beneath the weight
Of the quick vollied flash to bleed,
And swell the skilful fowler's meed.
Be his the meed, whate'er it be,
His proper meed! Nor envy we
His task, 'mid nature's works to toil,
Not to admire them, but to spoil;
His praise, the marksman's skill, to tell
What numbers by his prowess fell;
His joy, to triumph in the slain,
And find his pleasure in their pain!
His proper meed! Nor envy we
His task, 'mid nature's works to toil,
Not to admire them, but to spoil;
His praise, the marksman's skill, to tell
What numbers by his prowess fell;
His joy, to triumph in the slain,
And find his pleasure in their pain!
True, 'twas of old by God decreed,
That birds for man's support may bleed,
His words to Noah: not so plain
The licence, which those words contain,
Nor know I well what records hold
The licence, in what court inroll'd,
To cut their lives for pastime short,
Or of their sufferings make our sport.
But most accordant to his word
I deem it, that the needful bird,
Or beast, should fall by those who smite
For business, rather than delight.
And surely most it bears the sign
And likeness of the stamp divine;
And sure 'tis most from semblance free
And blame of wanton cruelty;
And most accordant to the part,
Which suits the meek and feeling heart:
Whom duty leads not on, that they
Should turn from deeds of blood away,
Nor on their victim's sufferings pore,
Nor bathe unbid their hands in gore.
That birds for man's support may bleed,
His words to Noah: not so plain
The licence, which those words contain,
325
The licence, in what court inroll'd,
To cut their lives for pastime short,
Or of their sufferings make our sport.
But most accordant to his word
I deem it, that the needful bird,
Or beast, should fall by those who smite
For business, rather than delight.
And surely most it bears the sign
And likeness of the stamp divine;
And sure 'tis most from semblance free
And blame of wanton cruelty;
And most accordant to the part,
Which suits the meek and feeling heart:
Whom duty leads not on, that they
Should turn from deeds of blood away,
Nor on their victim's sufferings pore,
Nor bathe unbid their hands in gore.
Him, who is merciful and kind
To all his works, the thoughtful mind
Most seeks by kindness to express:
And “gentle heart shows gentleness .”
To all his works, the thoughtful mind
Most seeks by kindness to express:
And “gentle heart shows gentleness .”
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SEPTEMBER.
Two thirds of the year elapsed. Sensible diminution of the light. Fruitfulness of the month. Prosecution of the harvest. The Harvest Moon. Opinion concerning the phænomenon in former times. Part of the general course of nature. A similar phænomenon every month. Gratitude nevertheless due to divine Providence. Bountiful distribution of her light
September comes: the waning year
Two portions of his just career
Has now fulfill'd; a third remains,
Or ere of age full ripe the reins
He of his transient rule decline,
And to a new-born heir resign.
Two portions of his just career
Has now fulfill'd; a third remains,
Or ere of age full ripe the reins
He of his transient rule decline,
And to a new-born heir resign.
September comes. The lingering morn,
Each change to later splendour born;
The advancing eve, each change array'd
In earlier and in denser shade;
The conflict shew of daily light,
Diminish'd by the incroaching night:
Till each shall soon with equal powers
Divide the parti-colour'd hours,
In trains, exact of tale, arranged;
And, ere again the month be changed,
The usurper Night's superior sway
Be stablish'd o'er the yielding Day.
Each change to later splendour born;
The advancing eve, each change array'd
In earlier and in denser shade;
The conflict shew of daily light,
Diminish'd by the incroaching night:
Till each shall soon with equal powers
Divide the parti-colour'd hours,
In trains, exact of tale, arranged;
And, ere again the month be changed,
The usurper Night's superior sway
Be stablish'd o'er the yielding Day.
Meanwhile to glad September's dawn,
Together hath mild Autumn drawn
Rich gifts from nature's bounteous stores;
And still about his footsteps pours
Profusely from the copious horn
Fruits well-matur'd and yellow corn.
Together hath mild Autumn drawn
Rich gifts from nature's bounteous stores;
And still about his footsteps pours
Profusely from the copious horn
Fruits well-matur'd and yellow corn.
Now to the cornfield, ye, whose hands
The unfinish'd harvest still demands!
While still the season mild allows
Unharm'd the ripen'd grain to house,
And earlier nights and shorter days
Prohibit yet prolong'd delays;
Speed forth incessant to complete
The gathering of the golden wheat;
Or if the oat his pendents rear
O'erarch'd; or barley's bristling ear
Still standing crave your care to stow
Its treasures in the swelling mow.
The unfinish'd harvest still demands!
330
Unharm'd the ripen'd grain to house,
And earlier nights and shorter days
Prohibit yet prolong'd delays;
Speed forth incessant to complete
The gathering of the golden wheat;
Or if the oat his pendents rear
O'erarch'd; or barley's bristling ear
Still standing crave your care to stow
Its treasures in the swelling mow.
Time presses: haste not then away
Impatient with the setting day!
Nor, though in twilight veil'd the sun
Have now his daily journey run,
Cease ye the busy work to ply!
For, lo! his substitute on high,
As if to warn you not to close
Your toil in premature repose;
As if to prompt you still to wield
The sickle 'mid the harvest field;
With face benign and fair display'd
At once to monish and to aid;
Eve after eve to glad the scene,
With brief the intervals between
Her risings each successive night;
Eve after eve with aspect bright
Scarce minish'd, nature's timely boon,
Comes forth full-orb'd the Harvest Moon.
Impatient with the setting day!
Nor, though in twilight veil'd the sun
Have now his daily journey run,
Cease ye the busy work to ply!
For, lo! his substitute on high,
As if to warn you not to close
Your toil in premature repose;
As if to prompt you still to wield
The sickle 'mid the harvest field;
With face benign and fair display'd
At once to monish and to aid;
Eve after eve to glad the scene,
With brief the intervals between
Her risings each successive night;
Eve after eve with aspect bright
Scarce minish'd, nature's timely boon,
Comes forth full-orb'd the Harvest Moon.
More apt to notice what they saw
Contented, than the veil to draw
Aside with philosophick mind,
And search the cause which lurks behind;
Good simple hearts there were of old,
Which, as they fail'd not to behold
Each night the harvest moon arise
Benignant in the autumnal skies,
The parting sun's bright rod assume,
And twilight's gathering shade illume,
Deem'd it with meek and grateful sense
A special act of Providence;
That the rich harvest fruits, which God
Had in his bounty shed abroad,
By that clear cresset men might see
To reap; and in their granary,
Ere the bright season past away,
Secure the golden treasure lay.
Contented, than the veil to draw
Aside with philosophick mind,
And search the cause which lurks behind;
331
Which, as they fail'd not to behold
Each night the harvest moon arise
Benignant in the autumnal skies,
The parting sun's bright rod assume,
And twilight's gathering shade illume,
Deem'd it with meek and grateful sense
A special act of Providence;
That the rich harvest fruits, which God
Had in his bounty shed abroad,
By that clear cresset men might see
To reap; and in their granary,
Ere the bright season past away,
Secure the golden treasure lay.
And what, if no peculiar cause,
Beyond the course of nature's laws,
Thus gives the harvest moon to shine:—
What, if that bounteous care benign
Be but a portion of the whole
Stupendous plan, which bids her roll
Her silver orb through heav'n's high way
In course oblique, that so her ray
May best to all beneath the sky
Its light, as most they need, supply:—
What, though to those, who mark aright
Each monthly course with watchful sight,
Each month at times her rising sphere
With small the intervals appear,
What times you see her path decline
Least from the horizontal line,
Though notic'd most in autumn eves,
When her expanded face receives
The western sun's departing rays,
And back returns the full-orb'd blaze
Reflected from her mirrour sheen;
And reapers by her beams serene
Behold postpon'd the approaching night,
And bless the salutary light:—
Shall we for this the rather fail
With meek and grateful heart to hail
The wisdom, goodness, and the might;
Which made “the moon to rule the night;”
Taught at her birth to know the time,
Both when to quit, and when to climb,
The heavenly slope; with lamp divine,
When needed most, the most to shine;
In equatorial skies to gleam
With nor prolong'd nor shorten'd beam;
At the dark poles, or south or north,
To go with welcome brightness forth,
And, half her course, undimm'd supply
Effulgence to the sunless sky;
In this our intermediate space
To hold a fluctuating place,
And through her monthly season range
With ever varying interchange:
But most, when autumn most requires
The cresset of her useful fires,
To glad the farmer's longing sight,
And bless him with the harvest light?
Beyond the course of nature's laws,
Thus gives the harvest moon to shine:—
What, if that bounteous care benign
Be but a portion of the whole
Stupendous plan, which bids her roll
Her silver orb through heav'n's high way
In course oblique, that so her ray
May best to all beneath the sky
Its light, as most they need, supply:—
What, though to those, who mark aright
Each monthly course with watchful sight,
Each month at times her rising sphere
With small the intervals appear,
What times you see her path decline
Least from the horizontal line,
Though notic'd most in autumn eves,
When her expanded face receives
332
And back returns the full-orb'd blaze
Reflected from her mirrour sheen;
And reapers by her beams serene
Behold postpon'd the approaching night,
And bless the salutary light:—
Shall we for this the rather fail
With meek and grateful heart to hail
The wisdom, goodness, and the might;
Which made “the moon to rule the night;”
Taught at her birth to know the time,
Both when to quit, and when to climb,
The heavenly slope; with lamp divine,
When needed most, the most to shine;
In equatorial skies to gleam
With nor prolong'd nor shorten'd beam;
At the dark poles, or south or north,
To go with welcome brightness forth,
And, half her course, undimm'd supply
Effulgence to the sunless sky;
In this our intermediate space
To hold a fluctuating place,
And through her monthly season range
With ever varying interchange:
But most, when autumn most requires
The cresset of her useful fires,
To glad the farmer's longing sight,
And bless him with the harvest light?
Wonders of the sky. Common things, however stupendous, little noticed. Consideration requisite for appreciating them duly. Constant efficacy and necessity of the First Cause. Gratitude due for the Harvest Moon
Ah! who unmov'd abroad can look
On you bright page of nature's book,
In grand simplicity display'd?
Ah! who, his feeble sight to aid,
Can call his meditating mind,
And think on Him, who, unconfin'd
Himself, each orb that o'er us rolls
Confines, directs, maintains, controls;
Nor see in every thing above
A miracle of pow'r and love?
On you bright page of nature's book,
333
Ah! who, his feeble sight to aid,
Can call his meditating mind,
And think on Him, who, unconfin'd
Himself, each orb that o'er us rolls
Confines, directs, maintains, controls;
Nor see in every thing above
A miracle of pow'r and love?
Not less stupendous is the force,
Which holds the planets in their course,
And bids the sun and moon to know
Their journeys, when and where to go;
Than that which gave the sun command
Still upon Gibeon's heights to stand,
And bade her course the lingering moon
Stay o'er the vale of Ajalon.
But common things, and such as rise
Day after day before our eyes,
Howe'er surprising, beauteous, grand;
Howe'er their excellence demand
Due homage from the admiring sight;
Less strongly on our senses smite,
And seem, when often seen, to need
Consideration's hand to lead
Our steps within the temple's pale,
To draw aside the shrouding veil,
And show within his secret shrine
Inthron'd the Artificer divine,
The first, the last, the central soul,
Who made, preserves, and rules the whole;
Of parts so intricate compact,
Of structure so minute, exact,
Of pow'r so strong, of speed so fleet,
So smooth of motion, and complete
In all its bearings; that the scheme,
If to the thoughtless eye it seem
As but of course, and mov'd alone
By will and action of its own,
Shews to the thought a soul unseen,
Presiding o'er the vast machine;
A potent, sage, contriving Mind,
Which first the mighty work design'd;
Which, ever present, holds it still
In being by his sovereign will,
Of nature's movements and her laws
Alone the independent Cause;
Which, were that sovereign will withheld,
Nature by that suspension quell'd
Would sink from her vice-kingdom hurl'd;
And o'er this grand and beauteous world
Wild “Chaos, Anarch old ,” regain
The sceptre of his primal reign.
Which holds the planets in their course,
And bids the sun and moon to know
Their journeys, when and where to go;
Than that which gave the sun command
Still upon Gibeon's heights to stand,
And bade her course the lingering moon
Stay o'er the vale of Ajalon.
But common things, and such as rise
Day after day before our eyes,
Howe'er surprising, beauteous, grand;
Howe'er their excellence demand
Due homage from the admiring sight;
Less strongly on our senses smite,
And seem, when often seen, to need
Consideration's hand to lead
Our steps within the temple's pale,
To draw aside the shrouding veil,
And show within his secret shrine
Inthron'd the Artificer divine,
The first, the last, the central soul,
Who made, preserves, and rules the whole;
Of parts so intricate compact,
Of structure so minute, exact,
334
So smooth of motion, and complete
In all its bearings; that the scheme,
If to the thoughtless eye it seem
As but of course, and mov'd alone
By will and action of its own,
Shews to the thought a soul unseen,
Presiding o'er the vast machine;
A potent, sage, contriving Mind,
Which first the mighty work design'd;
Which, ever present, holds it still
In being by his sovereign will,
Of nature's movements and her laws
Alone the independent Cause;
Which, were that sovereign will withheld,
Nature by that suspension quell'd
Would sink from her vice-kingdom hurl'd;
And o'er this grand and beauteous world
Wild “Chaos, Anarch old ,” regain
The sceptre of his primal reign.
With reason then on yonder sky
The farmer casts a grateful eye,
Where more than usual splendors shine;
And thoughtful of the Hand divine,
Whence all proceeds, his gracious boon
Avows in yonder harvest moon.
The farmer casts a grateful eye,
Where more than usual splendors shine;
And thoughtful of the Hand divine,
Whence all proceeds, his gracious boon
Avows in yonder harvest moon.
Harvest Home, how to be celebrated. Mosaick Law. Heathen practices. Customs of our forefathers. The Harvest Waggon. Harvest Queen. Undue returns for God's bounty. Subject of sorrow
And O! be his, for all his bliss
To thank, but not to thank amiss,
The Source of wealth and Fount of good:
And fill'd with gladness and with food,
And mindful, whence his blessings come,
To praise Him, at the Harvest Home!
To praise Him, less with clamorous noise,
The annual feast's intemperate joys,
With “midnight shout and revelry,”
And “tipsey dance and jollity ;”
Than with the still and feeling heart
With love o'erflowing, while a part
Of what from heav'n one hand receives,
The other forth in bounty gives,
Ev'n from the show of evil free;
And seeks each village family
To cheer with gifts, dispers'd among
Parent and child, the old and young;
And the thatch'd homestead's meek recess
With pure substantial blessings bless!
To thank, but not to thank amiss,
The Source of wealth and Fount of good:
And fill'd with gladness and with food,
335
To praise Him, at the Harvest Home!
To praise Him, less with clamorous noise,
The annual feast's intemperate joys,
With “midnight shout and revelry,”
And “tipsey dance and jollity ;”
Than with the still and feeling heart
With love o'erflowing, while a part
Of what from heav'n one hand receives,
The other forth in bounty gives,
Ev'n from the show of evil free;
And seeks each village family
To cheer with gifts, dispers'd among
Parent and child, the old and young;
And the thatch'd homestead's meek recess
With pure substantial blessings bless!
From fear of future dearth releast,
To keep with joy the harvest feast;
Full fain in thanks to God to yield
The first-fruits of the harvest field;
Their law the sons of Israel taught :—
Such law the bordering Gentiles caught,
Unless perchance the buoyant mind
To joyance nature's self inclin'd,
And bade the sounds of triumph start
Untutor'd from the o'erflowing heart.
Such feast of old our fathers knew:
But blended with the honour due
To the dread Majesty of heaven,
A mixture of the heathen leaven.
To keep with joy the harvest feast;
Full fain in thanks to God to yield
The first-fruits of the harvest field;
Their law the sons of Israel taught :—
Such law the bordering Gentiles caught,
Unless perchance the buoyant mind
To joyance nature's self inclin'd,
And bade the sounds of triumph start
Untutor'd from the o'erflowing heart.
Such feast of old our fathers knew:
But blended with the honour due
To the dread Majesty of heaven,
A mixture of the heathen leaven.
336
Hence loaded with the latest grain,
Gay flow'rs adorn'd the Harvest Wain:
And seated there, with chaplet crown'd,
And hail'd with pipe and tabor's sound,
Beneath her arm a corn-sheaf placed,
Her fingers with a sickle graced,
With men and women's loud acclaim,
Maidens and boys, in triumph came,
In guise of straw-form'd image seen,
Rejoicing home the Harvest-Queen.
Gay flow'rs adorn'd the Harvest Wain:
And seated there, with chaplet crown'd,
And hail'd with pipe and tabor's sound,
Beneath her arm a corn-sheaf placed,
Her fingers with a sickle graced,
With men and women's loud acclaim,
Maidens and boys, in triumph came,
In guise of straw-form'd image seen,
Rejoicing home the Harvest-Queen.
'Twas Ceres; goddess she of corn:
Or one of Gentile error born,
Allow'd like reverence to claim,
A Pagan form with Christian name!
Some saint, to whom vain men might lift
Their hearts for Providence's gift;
The Maker's bounteous care disown,
Or with another share his throne!
Then came the feast, the sport, the dance;
With much of gross intemperance,
Which, sooth to say, might more become
The heathens at a harvest-home,
Than those, who heav'n-instructed know
To whom all precious gifts they owe,
And what the due returns that greet
His sense with grateful odours sweet.
Alas for them, of heart and mind
Insensate, undiscerning, blind,
Whom gifts of plenteousness befall,
But “leanness of the soul withal !”
Or one of Gentile error born,
Allow'd like reverence to claim,
A Pagan form with Christian name!
Some saint, to whom vain men might lift
Their hearts for Providence's gift;
The Maker's bounteous care disown,
Or with another share his throne!
Then came the feast, the sport, the dance;
With much of gross intemperance,
Which, sooth to say, might more become
The heathens at a harvest-home,
Than those, who heav'n-instructed know
To whom all precious gifts they owe,
And what the due returns that greet
His sense with grateful odours sweet.
Alas for them, of heart and mind
Insensate, undiscerning, blind,
Whom gifts of plenteousness befall,
But “leanness of the soul withal !”
337
Hop-picking. The hop ground. Piling of the hop-poles. Apple-gathering. The Redstreak. Philips's Cyder. Character of the poem. Peculiar excellence of poetry. Contemplation of God in his works. Its benefit.
Nor only does the gather'd corn
September's wealthy path adorn.
September's wealthy path adorn.
For now where Farnham's mitred keep
Sees chalky Wey beneath it creep,
Slow stealing through the fertile fields,
Of Surry; or the shady wealds
Of Sussex, and her fruitful vales,
Court wooingly the southern gales;
Or where far off by Severn stream
With frequent points ascending gleam,
And crown'd with many a glistening vane,
The pinnacles of Worcester's fane;
Or where through undulating Kent
Glides the smooth Medway to present
The tribute of her gentle tide,
To swell imperial Thames's pride;
Or where yon venerable pile,
O'er window'd nave and buttress'd aisle,
Lifts his embattled tow'r on high,
As if with conscious majesty
That his the boast within to own
Fair England's hierarchal throne:
Of old and young a mingled train,
The village maid, the village swain,
The hop-ground seek: unfix, and lay
In prostrate rows the frequent stay,
Round which aspiring, like the vine's
Lithe tendrils, creeps and climbs and twines,
With many a scaly pendent drop,
Our British vine, the twisted Hop.
Pick'd from the lithe and spiral “bind,”
Which round the lofty hop-pole twin'd,
The scaly fruit is stor'd within
The chamber of the ample “bin.”
Thence in large sacks the distant mart
It visits, and performs its part
With grateful bitter to reduce
The mawkish malt's fermented juice,
And cause it unimpair'd to bear
The influence of the changeful year.
Meanwhile in tall and well-pil'd cones,
Stript of their vegetable zones,
Erect the marshal'd poles remain:
As o'er Arabia's sterile plain
The camp in dense array presents
Its well-rang'd streets of dusky tents;
Or mid hot Africk's level sands
Compact the hut-form'd village stands.
Sees chalky Wey beneath it creep,
Slow stealing through the fertile fields,
Of Surry; or the shady wealds
Of Sussex, and her fruitful vales,
Court wooingly the southern gales;
Or where far off by Severn stream
With frequent points ascending gleam,
And crown'd with many a glistening vane,
The pinnacles of Worcester's fane;
Or where through undulating Kent
Glides the smooth Medway to present
The tribute of her gentle tide,
To swell imperial Thames's pride;
Or where yon venerable pile,
O'er window'd nave and buttress'd aisle,
Lifts his embattled tow'r on high,
As if with conscious majesty
That his the boast within to own
Fair England's hierarchal throne:
Of old and young a mingled train,
The village maid, the village swain,
The hop-ground seek: unfix, and lay
In prostrate rows the frequent stay,
Round which aspiring, like the vine's
Lithe tendrils, creeps and climbs and twines,
With many a scaly pendent drop,
Our British vine, the twisted Hop.
Pick'd from the lithe and spiral “bind,”
Which round the lofty hop-pole twin'd,
338
The chamber of the ample “bin.”
Thence in large sacks the distant mart
It visits, and performs its part
With grateful bitter to reduce
The mawkish malt's fermented juice,
And cause it unimpair'd to bear
The influence of the changeful year.
Meanwhile in tall and well-pil'd cones,
Stript of their vegetable zones,
Erect the marshal'd poles remain:
As o'er Arabia's sterile plain
The camp in dense array presents
Its well-rang'd streets of dusky tents;
Or mid hot Africk's level sands
Compact the hut-form'd village stands.
Nor less in Devon's fruitful dales,
Where health inspires the sea-born gales
That breathe o'er Dart's romantick way,
And the deep curve of broad Torbay;
From trees, with golden splendour deckt
And beauty's roseate blush, collect
The swains in baskets heap'd on high
The autumnal orchard's rich supply.
Still richer, where their nectarous juice
The redstreak's pulpy fruits produce;
The redstreak, long the boast and pride
Of Hereford: nor land beside
Such fruit, such luscious nectar, yields,
As you, ye Herefordian fields!
So sung by him, your native Bard,
Who in Miltonian numbers dar'd
On theme, by bard before unsung,
To tune his patriotick tongue;
And sang your orchards' peerless grace;
And told how the superior place
Nor apples to the grape resign,
Nor cyder to the generous wine.
Where health inspires the sea-born gales
That breathe o'er Dart's romantick way,
And the deep curve of broad Torbay;
From trees, with golden splendour deckt
And beauty's roseate blush, collect
The swains in baskets heap'd on high
The autumnal orchard's rich supply.
Still richer, where their nectarous juice
The redstreak's pulpy fruits produce;
The redstreak, long the boast and pride
Of Hereford: nor land beside
Such fruit, such luscious nectar, yields,
As you, ye Herefordian fields!
339
Who in Miltonian numbers dar'd
On theme, by bard before unsung,
To tune his patriotick tongue;
And sang your orchards' peerless grace;
And told how the superior place
Nor apples to the grape resign,
Nor cyder to the generous wine.
Ingenious Philips! though thy rhime
Attain not to the march sublime,
The diapason sweet and strong
Unrivall'd of thy Milton's song;
Though small the worth our taste may deem
Capricious of thy rustick theme;
And train'd to daintier measures heed
As al-too quaint thy simple reed:—
Yet once thy British Georgick shard
High rank beside the Mantuan bard,
Who sang of corn-fields, and of trees,
Herds, vineyards, and the prudent bees.
And in thy page is well portray'd
How Nature, by the skillful aid
Assisted of her handmaid Art,
Most usefully performs her part,
To enrich the Apple's fruitful store:
With much of philosophick lore,
And much of moral truth combin'd,
Sweet to the meditative mind;
And much of feeling interwove,
That speaks the honest patriot's love,
Love for his country's blessings shown,
Which deems that country's bliss his own.
Less happy, that thy rural Muse
From nature's works to heavenly views
Lifts not the soul in loftier mood!
For nature's works, when rightly view'd,
Are like a ladder from the sky
Let down to guide mankind on high,
An avenue in bounty given
To help us on our way to heaven.
Nor ever does the Muse maintain
So well her own, her rightful reign,
And vindicate her heavenly birth;
As when from walking o'er the earth,
And musing on terrestrial things,
She seeks to prune her heav'n-ward wings,
And buoy'd by nature's breath to soar,
Where angels nature's God adore.
Attain not to the march sublime,
The diapason sweet and strong
Unrivall'd of thy Milton's song;
Though small the worth our taste may deem
Capricious of thy rustick theme;
And train'd to daintier measures heed
As al-too quaint thy simple reed:—
Yet once thy British Georgick shard
High rank beside the Mantuan bard,
Who sang of corn-fields, and of trees,
Herds, vineyards, and the prudent bees.
And in thy page is well portray'd
How Nature, by the skillful aid
Assisted of her handmaid Art,
Most usefully performs her part,
To enrich the Apple's fruitful store:
With much of philosophick lore,
And much of moral truth combin'd,
Sweet to the meditative mind;
And much of feeling interwove,
That speaks the honest patriot's love,
Love for his country's blessings shown,
Which deems that country's bliss his own.
340
From nature's works to heavenly views
Lifts not the soul in loftier mood!
For nature's works, when rightly view'd,
Are like a ladder from the sky
Let down to guide mankind on high,
An avenue in bounty given
To help us on our way to heaven.
Nor ever does the Muse maintain
So well her own, her rightful reign,
And vindicate her heavenly birth;
As when from walking o'er the earth,
And musing on terrestrial things,
She seeks to prune her heav'n-ward wings,
And buoy'd by nature's breath to soar,
Where angels nature's God adore.
Thus He, who sang the Seasons' change,
As through the ever-varying range
Of nature's works he look'd abroad,
In all beheld “the varied God .”
Thus Milton, though behind the skreen
“Of these his works but dimly seen,”
In all this universal frame
Discern'd, confest, ador'd the same
Almighty Lord, and hail'd the sign
Of boundless love and pow'r divine
'Twas Adam's hymn in paradise,
Well-suited to that state of bliss.
And he, who trains his mind to see
O'er all this world's variety
The present Deity preside,
Its Cause, Preserver, Lord, and Guide,
So stamp'd on nature's speechless scroll,
So blazon'd on his written roll,
Goes far the victory to win
O'er the sad fruits of primal sin,
And ev'n on earth enjoy the reign
Restor'd of paradise again.
As through the ever-varying range
Of nature's works he look'd abroad,
In all beheld “the varied God .”
Thus Milton, though behind the skreen
“Of these his works but dimly seen,”
In all this universal frame
Discern'd, confest, ador'd the same
Almighty Lord, and hail'd the sign
Of boundless love and pow'r divine
'Twas Adam's hymn in paradise,
Well-suited to that state of bliss.
And he, who trains his mind to see
O'er all this world's variety
341
Its Cause, Preserver, Lord, and Guide,
So stamp'd on nature's speechless scroll,
So blazon'd on his written roll,
Goes far the victory to win
O'er the sad fruits of primal sin,
And ev'n on earth enjoy the reign
Restor'd of paradise again.
Symptoms of the year's decline. Changed appearance of the Forest. Various tints of different trees. Autumnal tints beautiful but indicating decay
Still onward moves in ceaseless round
The course of nature's annual wheel.
And as the years advancing steal
Our life's successive charms away,
So every week and every day,
Now past the season's lusty prime
Of manhood, though the hoary time
Be yet from empire full withheld,
Give symptoms of approaching eld.
Each week, each day, some wonted grace,
That lighted nature's youthful face,
Is vanish'd from the well-known view:
Each week, each day, some symptom new,
Some wrinkle deep or silver hair
Is stamp'd, decay's impression, there.
Go, and explore the woodland scene,
Where late a general cloke of green,
With tints of light or darker shade,
The forest's denizens array'd!
The course of healthful vigour run,
That cloke of green has now begun
To deepen to an alter'd die:
And, like the shrill-toned trumpet's cry,
By its chang'd foliage crisp and sere
Gives signal of the waning year.
Nor rarely, as its paths you trace
With slow and meditative pace,
Now and again the rustling breeze,
That sighs and murmurs in the trees,
The trees, that bend and bow the head
As mourning for the leaves they shed,
The leaves, that singly eddying round
Wake the rapt ear, or on the embrown'd
Earth's surface congregating pour
Full thick the vegetable shower;
Join with those changeful tints to say
How swiftly speeds the year away.
Where late a general cloke of green,
With tints of light or darker shade,
The forest's denizens array'd!
342
That cloke of green has now begun
To deepen to an alter'd die:
And, like the shrill-toned trumpet's cry,
By its chang'd foliage crisp and sere
Gives signal of the waning year.
Nor rarely, as its paths you trace
With slow and meditative pace,
Now and again the rustling breeze,
That sighs and murmurs in the trees,
The trees, that bend and bow the head
As mourning for the leaves they shed,
The leaves, that singly eddying round
Wake the rapt ear, or on the embrown'd
Earth's surface congregating pour
Full thick the vegetable shower;
Join with those changeful tints to say
How swiftly speeds the year away.
Among the first with fading leaves
For its departing glory grieves,
With leaves all brown, but spotted o'er
With darker stains, the Sycamore,
Prompt to announce the year's decline:—
With leaves, with yellow pale that shine,
The same his brother Maple shows.
Fine citron tints the Ash-tree throws
O'er his fair form, with seed-chests hung,
In drops of key-like bunches strung.
Bright yellow, but with varying tints,
The Hornbeam's plaited leaves imprints,
Tall Poplar, shivering in the gale,
Pale Birch, and sickly Lime-tree pale,
Hazel, and scarlet-berried Thorn.
But hues of darker die adorn
With tawny red, or orange grain,
The Quickbeam wing'd, the broad-leav'd Plane,
The Chestnut, and the spreading Beech:
While slow to quit his robe, but rich
In autumn gleams of golden green
Stands forth the Monarch of the scene:
And still their native green retain,
Their leaves with borrow'd tints to stain
The latest of the woodland realm,
The Alder dark and lighter Elm.
For its departing glory grieves,
With leaves all brown, but spotted o'er
With darker stains, the Sycamore,
Prompt to announce the year's decline:—
With leaves, with yellow pale that shine,
The same his brother Maple shows.
Fine citron tints the Ash-tree throws
O'er his fair form, with seed-chests hung,
In drops of key-like bunches strung.
Bright yellow, but with varying tints,
The Hornbeam's plaited leaves imprints,
Tall Poplar, shivering in the gale,
Pale Birch, and sickly Lime-tree pale,
343
But hues of darker die adorn
With tawny red, or orange grain,
The Quickbeam wing'd, the broad-leav'd Plane,
The Chestnut, and the spreading Beech:
While slow to quit his robe, but rich
In autumn gleams of golden green
Stands forth the Monarch of the scene:
And still their native green retain,
Their leaves with borrow'd tints to stain
The latest of the woodland realm,
The Alder dark and lighter Elm.
Mix'd with the lingering verdure's grace,
Now near his equinoctial race,
Touch'd by his fingers' mellowing glow,
Such tints September's woodlands show.
And who with eyes to see, and heart
To take in nature's charms a part,
Can on September's richness dwell,
Nor feel his heart in silence swell,
Nor feast his still unsated eyes
With that magnificence of dies,
The poet's vaunt, the painter's pride?
But, ah! those tints deceitful hide
The seeds of slow, but sure decay,
Which on the secret vitals prey:
And soon those tints shall vanish all,
And with the wither'd foliage fall,
To which, presageful of their end,
So sweet but sad a grace they lend.
And ev'n like these autumnal trees
Shines the fair victim of disease,
Which in her frame's recesses lurks;
And with unseen consumption works
To paint her cheek, her life-blood drain,
At once her beauty and her bane!
Now near his equinoctial race,
Touch'd by his fingers' mellowing glow,
Such tints September's woodlands show.
And who with eyes to see, and heart
To take in nature's charms a part,
Can on September's richness dwell,
Nor feel his heart in silence swell,
Nor feast his still unsated eyes
With that magnificence of dies,
The poet's vaunt, the painter's pride?
But, ah! those tints deceitful hide
The seeds of slow, but sure decay,
Which on the secret vitals prey:
And soon those tints shall vanish all,
And with the wither'd foliage fall,
To which, presageful of their end,
So sweet but sad a grace they lend.
And ev'n like these autumnal trees
Shines the fair victim of disease,
344
And with unseen consumption works
To paint her cheek, her life-blood drain,
At once her beauty and her bane!
Flowers diminished. The Arbutus in blossom. Mushrooms, an autumnal produce
Go, seek the many-spangling flow'rs,
Which in the spring or summer hours
Embroider'd nature's carpet green!
Few gladden now the desert scene
Of those which lately woo'd the air
With fragrance, and their petals fair
Expanded to the admiring eye:
And fewer still fresh scents supply,
Fresh colours, which now newly blown
September numbers for his own.
Which in the spring or summer hours
Embroider'd nature's carpet green!
Few gladden now the desert scene
Of those which lately woo'd the air
With fragrance, and their petals fair
Expanded to the admiring eye:
And fewer still fresh scents supply,
Fresh colours, which now newly blown
September numbers for his own.
If where the mountain bugle wakes
The echoes of Killarney's lakes,
And Glena's waving crags incline
O'er sainted Mucrus' abbey-shrine,
The Arbute opes its pensile bells;
All beautiful itself, it tells
In concert with the fading woods,
Of winds and equinoctial floods,
Which soon their gather'd rage shall pour;
And beauty, on that distant shore
Forsaken, left to bloom alone
Unnotic'd on her desert throne.
The echoes of Killarney's lakes,
And Glena's waving crags incline
O'er sainted Mucrus' abbey-shrine,
The Arbute opes its pensile bells;
All beautiful itself, it tells
In concert with the fading woods,
Of winds and equinoctial floods,
Which soon their gather'd rage shall pour;
And beauty, on that distant shore
Forsaken, left to bloom alone
Unnotic'd on her desert throne.
Or if within the solitude
Of birchen copse or fir-tree wood,
On trunk decay'd or heaving root
Some parasitick Fungus shoot,
And, nurtur'd by September dews,
The enamel of his light diffuse:—
(For mostly in the forest dank,
Or 'mid the meadow's herbage rank,
When Flora's lovelier tribes give place,
The mushroom's scorn'd but curious race
Bestud the moist autumnal earth;
A quick but perishable birth,
Prompt their bright colours to display,
And prompt to alter, fade, decay:)—
Though much you fail not to admire
Their parts, their structure, their attire,
The pillar-stem, the table-head,
As with a silken carpet spread,
Inlaid with many a brilliant die
Of nature's high-wrought tapestry;
Of autumn's waning strength they speak,
And tell how nature, worn and weak,
Prepares her sceptre to resign,
And in inactive languor pine.
Of birchen copse or fir-tree wood,
On trunk decay'd or heaving root
Some parasitick Fungus shoot,
345
The enamel of his light diffuse:—
(For mostly in the forest dank,
Or 'mid the meadow's herbage rank,
When Flora's lovelier tribes give place,
The mushroom's scorn'd but curious race
Bestud the moist autumnal earth;
A quick but perishable birth,
Prompt their bright colours to display,
And prompt to alter, fade, decay:)—
Though much you fail not to admire
Their parts, their structure, their attire,
The pillar-stem, the table-head,
As with a silken carpet spread,
Inlaid with many a brilliant die
Of nature's high-wrought tapestry;
Of autumn's waning strength they speak,
And tell how nature, worn and weak,
Prepares her sceptre to resign,
And in inactive languor pine.
Summer birds departed. The Beam Bird or Spotted Flycatcher. Swallows. Their congregating, amusive actions, and disappearance. Their places of resort.
Go to the fields, the hills, the groves,
Where feather'd strangers woo'd their loves,
And nestled in our northern zone!
Away those stranger birds are flown:
Ev'n he, among the last to stay,
The spotted Beam-bird hastes away;
And leaves his homestead in the vine
Grape-glistening, or the sweet-brier twine,
Which round the peasant's straw-roof'd shed
Has wove its berries scarlet red,
On osier trellis trimly laced;
Sign of the simple native taste
By art untaught, and frugal care
Industrious, which hold dwelling there.
Where feather'd strangers woo'd their loves,
And nestled in our northern zone!
Away those stranger birds are flown:
Ev'n he, among the last to stay,
The spotted Beam-bird hastes away;
And leaves his homestead in the vine
Grape-glistening, or the sweet-brier twine,
Which round the peasant's straw-roof'd shed
Has wove its berries scarlet red,
346
Sign of the simple native taste
By art untaught, and frugal care
Industrious, which hold dwelling there.
And last of all prepare apace
For distant flight the swallow race.
For distant flight the swallow race.
Not without sign, the time was near
To strike their tents, their standard rear,
Their squadrons for the march array,
And take their winter-quarters' way,
Has August dealt his auguries:
But now beneath September skies,
Lo, prompted by that unseen power
Instinctive, round the village tower,
The grange, and cottage-ridge along,
In densely congregated throng,
Still more the future pilgrims swarm!
Lo, in the cloudless sunshine warm
Exulting, some select their seat
On buttress, frieze, or parapet;
Some to the upright surface cling
With claws tenacious; some, with wing
Outstretch'd, each glossy feather clean,
And for the impending voyage preen,
Close planted on the mantled roof!
Anon disturb'd they rise: aloof
At once they wheel their rapid flight:
Gleams in the sun their plumage white
Upturn'd: above, the sable crowd
Of pinions, like a showery cloud
That o'er the sunny landscape sails,
The darken'd light an instant veils,
As with loud chatter, scream, and squeak,
Which the full heart's enjoyment speak,
Quick pass they. Thence with motion fleet
Returning to its favourite seat,
The swarm its wonted task resumes,
And council holds, and trims its plumes,
Expectant till the voice divine
Gives to their hearts the secret sign,
By them with certain sense perceived,
By us unnotic'd; till bereaved
We gaze on each frequented spot,
Of late with countless clusters fraught,
Not mark'd departing. They meantime
Through Andalusia's sultry clime,
And onward where Gibraltar's crown
On the pent sea looks proudly down,
To Ceuta's rock, and hot Tangier,
Afar their southward voyage steer;
To Libyan sands, Atlantick isle,
Or the far stream of Memphian Nile;
And leave us curious to explore
The osier'd bank, and rushy shore,
Of river, sea, and freshet lake;
If chance the buried clusters break,
Emerging from the whelming wave,
The slumber of that liquid grave.
To strike their tents, their standard rear,
Their squadrons for the march array,
And take their winter-quarters' way,
Has August dealt his auguries:
But now beneath September skies,
Lo, prompted by that unseen power
Instinctive, round the village tower,
The grange, and cottage-ridge along,
In densely congregated throng,
Still more the future pilgrims swarm!
Lo, in the cloudless sunshine warm
Exulting, some select their seat
On buttress, frieze, or parapet;
Some to the upright surface cling
With claws tenacious; some, with wing
Outstretch'd, each glossy feather clean,
And for the impending voyage preen,
Close planted on the mantled roof!
Anon disturb'd they rise: aloof
At once they wheel their rapid flight:
Gleams in the sun their plumage white
Upturn'd: above, the sable crowd
Of pinions, like a showery cloud
That o'er the sunny landscape sails,
The darken'd light an instant veils,
347
Which the full heart's enjoyment speak,
Quick pass they. Thence with motion fleet
Returning to its favourite seat,
The swarm its wonted task resumes,
And council holds, and trims its plumes,
Expectant till the voice divine
Gives to their hearts the secret sign,
By them with certain sense perceived,
By us unnotic'd; till bereaved
We gaze on each frequented spot,
Of late with countless clusters fraught,
Not mark'd departing. They meantime
Through Andalusia's sultry clime,
And onward where Gibraltar's crown
On the pent sea looks proudly down,
To Ceuta's rock, and hot Tangier,
Afar their southward voyage steer;
To Libyan sands, Atlantick isle,
Or the far stream of Memphian Nile;
And leave us curious to explore
The osier'd bank, and rushy shore,
Of river, sea, and freshet lake;
If chance the buried clusters break,
Emerging from the whelming wave,
The slumber of that liquid grave.
Well-attested mysteries of nature to be acquiesced in. Facts to be compared with their evidence. Difficulty of believing the submersion of. Swallows. Their natural activity. Occasional detention of a few. Evidence to their migration. Preparations for their flight. Their actual flight. Seen crossing the Mediterranean and Atlantick seas: and in the East. Habits of American Swallows. Migration equally a sign of divine Providence, though less anomalous. Spiritual application of the Swallow's instinct
In this wide world, where nature plays
Such wonders as may well amaze
The thoughtless mind with strange surprise,
And pose and puzzle ev'n the wise:—
In this wide world, of miracle
So pregnant, hard it were to tell
What marvel may or may not be!
And well we know and own, that He,
Whose only is creation's right,
Whose will is law, whose word is might,
Can, if he choose, his works arrange
In modes most wonderful and strange;
In modes, which, witness'd to the mind
By facts, must sure acceptance find;
In modes, which still the mind defy
To sound, and show the reason, why
Such things have being. 'Tis for man,
Such mysteries in nature's plan
To search; to fathom and to weigh
Effect and cause, as best he may;
And when he can't the art explore,
Content the Artificer adore.
Such wonders as may well amaze
The thoughtless mind with strange surprise,
And pose and puzzle ev'n the wise:—
348
So pregnant, hard it were to tell
What marvel may or may not be!
And well we know and own, that He,
Whose only is creation's right,
Whose will is law, whose word is might,
Can, if he choose, his works arrange
In modes most wonderful and strange;
In modes, which, witness'd to the mind
By facts, must sure acceptance find;
In modes, which still the mind defy
To sound, and show the reason, why
Such things have being. 'Tis for man,
Such mysteries in nature's plan
To search; to fathom and to weigh
Effect and cause, as best he may;
And when he can't the art explore,
Content the Artificer adore.
Yet boots it well, on matters strange,
And passing nature's wonted range,
With credence in suspense to pause;
And, ere we reason on the cause,
Facts with their evidence compare,
And surely know if such things are.
And passing nature's wonted range,
With credence in suspense to pause;
And, ere we reason on the cause,
Facts with their evidence compare,
And surely know if such things are.
'Twere hard, 'twere passing hard, to think,
That plunging from the reedy brink
Of pool or willow-fringed stream,
As some of nature's votaries deem,
In autumn's wane the swallow race
Should seek so strange a dwelling place;
There foot to foot, and wing to wing,
And mouth to mouth, in clusters cling;
There their subaqueous refuge keep,
And through the livelong winter sleep.
That plunging from the reedy brink
Of pool or willow-fringed stream,
As some of nature's votaries deem,
In autumn's wane the swallow race
Should seek so strange a dwelling place;
There foot to foot, and wing to wing,
And mouth to mouth, in clusters cling;
349
And through the livelong winter sleep.
'Twere hard to think, a form so light,
So fitted for etherial flight,
So fit to quaff the upper air,
Should to the watry world repair,
Successful try the steep descent,
And breathe the grosser element.
So fitted for etherial flight,
So fit to quaff the upper air,
Should to the watry world repair,
Successful try the steep descent,
And breathe the grosser element.
'Twere hard to think, while many a kind,
Of feeble wing, and pow'r confin'd,
Content their wonted flight to take
From tree to tree, from brake to brake,
Start on their annual voyage forth
From north to south, from south to north;
The Swallow, whose unwearied flight
Forestall'd the morn, infring'd the night,
Nor sought repose, nor brook'd delay
Through all the livelong summer day,
Embracing in his daily speed
A space from Tamar to the Tweed,
Perchance the backward space again
From Tweed to Britain's southern main:—
'Twere hard to think, that he alone
Should fain his nature's bent disown,
His speed forego, his pinions close,
And sink in indolent repose.
Of feeble wing, and pow'r confin'd,
Content their wonted flight to take
From tree to tree, from brake to brake,
Start on their annual voyage forth
From north to south, from south to north;
The Swallow, whose unwearied flight
Forestall'd the morn, infring'd the night,
Nor sought repose, nor brook'd delay
Through all the livelong summer day,
Embracing in his daily speed
A space from Tamar to the Tweed,
Perchance the backward space again
From Tweed to Britain's southern main:—
'Twere hard to think, that he alone
Should fain his nature's bent disown,
His speed forego, his pinions close,
And sink in indolent repose.
Not but that haply here and there,
Too young or too infirm to bear
The labour of that distant way,
Behind a straggling bird may stay:—
Not but that seeking refuge near
The grassy brook or rushy mere,
The swelling wave may o'er them spread,
And whelm them in their secret bed:—
Not but, while wintry sleep restrains
The current of their torpid veins,
The vital spark may lurk beneath
Death's semblance; and by summer's breath
Rekindled in a scanty few
A faint and transient life renew.
Too young or too infirm to bear
The labour of that distant way,
Behind a straggling bird may stay:—
Not but that seeking refuge near
The grassy brook or rushy mere,
350
And whelm them in their secret bed:—
Not but, while wintry sleep restrains
The current of their torpid veins,
The vital spark may lurk beneath
Death's semblance; and by summer's breath
Rekindled in a scanty few
A faint and transient life renew.
Such things by meet narrators told,
The prudent Muse is fain to hold
In cautious credence: more she deems
The fiction of fantastick dreams.
The prudent Muse is fain to hold
In cautious credence: more she deems
The fiction of fantastick dreams.
For that far off the general race
Speeds to its wintry dwelling place,
And from our northern climate flees,
And travels o'er the mediate seas:
Speeds to its wintry dwelling place,
And from our northern climate flees,
And travels o'er the mediate seas:
Bear witness ye, who see them throng
September's busy month along,
As if preparing for their way;
But who, ere cool October's day
Have often dawn'd, their haunts explore,
And find their vanish'd tribes no more;
Save now and then some noon serene
A lonely straggler may be seen
Around the accustom'd roof to stray,
And bask him in the sunny ray:—
September's busy month along,
As if preparing for their way;
But who, ere cool October's day
Have often dawn'd, their haunts explore,
And find their vanish'd tribes no more;
Save now and then some noon serene
A lonely straggler may be seen
Around the accustom'd roof to stray,
And bask him in the sunny ray:—
Bear witness ye, though rare the sight,
Who mark them on their southward flight,
Whether in congregated mass
O'er England's breezy downs they pass,
Accoutred for the bordering main;
O'er neighbouring France or distant Spain;
Or where, with strait contracted tide,
The broad Atlantick waves divide
Fair Europe's groves from Africk's sands,
Iberian from Barbarick lands:—
Who mark them on their southward flight,
Whether in congregated mass
O'er England's breezy downs they pass,
Accoutred for the bordering main;
O'er neighbouring France or distant Spain;
351
The broad Atlantick waves divide
Fair Europe's groves from Africk's sands,
Iberian from Barbarick lands:—
Bear witness ye, who far from shore
'Mid the salt waste, with lonely prore
The land-incircled Sea, that laves
His fertile isles with gulphy waves,
Or wide Atlantick main have plough'd;
And seen on yard-arm, sail, and shroud,
As wearied by their distant flight
Their flocks for brief repose alight,
Then busk them with the dawning day,
And tempt again the aërial way:—
'Mid the salt waste, with lonely prore
The land-incircled Sea, that laves
His fertile isles with gulphy waves,
Or wide Atlantick main have plough'd;
And seen on yard-arm, sail, and shroud,
As wearied by their distant flight
Their flocks for brief repose alight,
Then busk them with the dawning day,
And tempt again the aërial way:—
To east, to west, bear witness ye,
Who eastward o'er the midland sea
Have mark'd their countless myriads pour
Tow'rd Asia's hills and Egypt's shore;
Or westward far remote have seen,
Where rolls the Atlantick flood between,
For ever with the varying year,
In great Columbus' hemisphere,
Their kindred tribes incessant roam,
And with the season change their home:—
Who eastward o'er the midland sea
Have mark'd their countless myriads pour
Tow'rd Asia's hills and Egypt's shore;
Or westward far remote have seen,
Where rolls the Atlantick flood between,
For ever with the varying year,
In great Columbus' hemisphere,
Their kindred tribes incessant roam,
And with the season change their home:—
Bear witness all, nor osier'd mere,
Nor brook, nor sea confines them here;
Free as the wind that hence they stray,
Their God their leader on the way,
His will the compass and the helm,
That steers them o'er the watry realm,
From shore to shore, from clime to clime:
Alert to profit by the time
Where'er they sojourn, nor to steep
Their senses in protracted sleep,
But all their faculties employ
In buoyancy of life and joy!
A truth, more full of pleasing thought,
But not with less of marvel fraught,
With less of clear stupendous sign
To testify the pow'r divine,
Though haply less of devious force
Imprest on nature's wonted course,
Than if beneath the stream they crept,
And in unconscious slumber slept.
Nor brook, nor sea confines them here;
Free as the wind that hence they stray,
Their God their leader on the way,
His will the compass and the helm,
That steers them o'er the watry realm,
From shore to shore, from clime to clime:
Alert to profit by the time
352
Their senses in protracted sleep,
But all their faculties employ
In buoyancy of life and joy!
A truth, more full of pleasing thought,
But not with less of marvel fraught,
With less of clear stupendous sign
To testify the pow'r divine,
Though haply less of devious force
Imprest on nature's wonted course,
Than if beneath the stream they crept,
And in unconscious slumber slept.
Not vain the voice of Prophet Seer
,
Who spake of old in Israel's ear,
And bade them, like the Swallow, know
Their season when to come and go.
“O well is thee and happy thou ,”
Who, like the Swallow, knowest how
To hear, to listen, and obey,
When the still voice forbids thy stay,
And bids thee, at its call to come,
Seek, where it shows, thy sheltering home,
And warns, when wintry storms molest,
To “flee away, and be at rest .”
Be His the glory, His the praise,
Who leads thee his appointed ways,
And tells thee of the appointed time!
At every hour, in every clime,
Be thine to know the call divine,
The refuge and the rest be thine!
Who spake of old in Israel's ear,
And bade them, like the Swallow, know
Their season when to come and go.
“O well is thee and happy thou ,”
Who, like the Swallow, knowest how
To hear, to listen, and obey,
When the still voice forbids thy stay,
And bids thee, at its call to come,
Seek, where it shows, thy sheltering home,
And warns, when wintry storms molest,
To “flee away, and be at rest .”
Be His the glory, His the praise,
Who leads thee his appointed ways,
And tells thee of the appointed time!
At every hour, in every clime,
Be thine to know the call divine,
The refuge and the rest be thine!
353
Winter birds not yet arrived. Native sea-birds. Scarf or Green Cormorant. Black Cormorant. Habits of the Cormorant. Gannet or Solan Geese. Their resort to St. Kilda in April. Their departure in September. Their winter haunts. Building of their nests. Their summer occupations. Mode of taking their eggs and young. Danger of the attempt. Artifice to intrap the Gannet. The Skua or Sea-Eagle. His peculiar formation. His formidable character. Islander's defence against him.
And so to seek a warmer zone
Well-nigh our summer birds are flown,
The little songsters, with their loves
That gladden'd all our fields and groves,
Or ere September's days are o'er:
Nor yet from her exhaustless store
Does the keen North her hosts supply
To winter in our milder sky.
Well-nigh our summer birds are flown,
The little songsters, with their loves
That gladden'd all our fields and groves,
Or ere September's days are o'er:
Nor yet from her exhaustless store
Does the keen North her hosts supply
To winter in our milder sky.
But would you wish meanwhile to trace
The kindreds of the feather'd race,
Such as o'er ocean's surface skim,
Or through its curling bosom swim,
Natives and tenants of our shores;
Attend her, as the Muse explores,
While yet September mild invites,
The craggy and the cavern'd heights,
That beetle o'er the northern flood,
The noisy Seabirds' wild abode.
The kindreds of the feather'd race,
Such as o'er ocean's surface skim,
Or through its curling bosom swim,
Natives and tenants of our shores;
Attend her, as the Muse explores,
While yet September mild invites,
The craggy and the cavern'd heights,
That beetle o'er the northern flood,
The noisy Seabirds' wild abode.
'Mid western Scotia's mountain piles,
Where 'mong her bleak and stormy isles
Through Fin Mac Coul's columnar cave
Boils the pent ocean's yeasty wave:
Or where on Erin's shores oppos'd,
In strange Mosaick work dispos'd,
Deep in the unfathom'd billows stands
The Causeway, work of fabled hands,
And, high above, abrupt exalt
Their heads the shafts of huge basalt:—
On the tall rock's o'erhanging ledge,
Beside the ocean's peopled edge,
Their home the kindred plunderers plant,
Green Skarf, and sable Corvorant.
Where 'mong her bleak and stormy isles
Through Fin Mac Coul's columnar cave
Boils the pent ocean's yeasty wave:
Or where on Erin's shores oppos'd,
In strange Mosaick work dispos'd,
Deep in the unfathom'd billows stands
The Causeway, work of fabled hands,
And, high above, abrupt exalt
Their heads the shafts of huge basalt:—
On the tall rock's o'erhanging ledge,
Beside the ocean's peopled edge,
354
Green Skarf, and sable Corvorant.
The time, the task, of breeding o'er,
Yet still they keep their native shore,
From their lov'd homes no wanderers they!—
See, where he skirts the winding bay,
Yon bird, in dark green plumage drest,
With vigorous wing and tufted crest,
And eye that darts an emerald flame!
And see, with quick unerring aim
He strikes, and upward bears away
From the salt wave his finny prey,
Across his sharp and hooked bill!
Now with elastick force, and skill
Prodigious, casts above his head,
And with capacious gullet spread
Receives him in his downright fall,
And undivided swallows all!
Not satiate so the ravenous bird:
A second fish, and now a third,
And more his appetite demands;
Till gorg'd on yonder rock he stands
O'erspent, and in a stupid doze
Seeks for his glutted maw repose.
Yet still they keep their native shore,
From their lov'd homes no wanderers they!—
See, where he skirts the winding bay,
Yon bird, in dark green plumage drest,
With vigorous wing and tufted crest,
And eye that darts an emerald flame!
And see, with quick unerring aim
He strikes, and upward bears away
From the salt wave his finny prey,
Across his sharp and hooked bill!
Now with elastick force, and skill
Prodigious, casts above his head,
And with capacious gullet spread
Receives him in his downright fall,
And undivided swallows all!
Not satiate so the ravenous bird:
A second fish, and now a third,
And more his appetite demands;
Till gorg'd on yonder rock he stands
O'erspent, and in a stupid doze
Seeks for his glutted maw repose.
Down rushing from his cloudy height,
With stronger bill, and swifter flight,
And heavier weight, and broader sweep
Of pinion, plunges in the deep
The snow-white Gannet. Where the main
Girds the huge rock with liquid chain,
Hebrid or Orcad mountain lone,
Or Ailsa's solitary cone,
Or, crowning with its rocky mass
Forth's widening frith, stupendous Bass;
Or where from Caledonian seas,
Bounding the stormy Hebrides,
The Thule of the wild north-west,
Saint Kilda rears his central crest:—
Saint Kilda, desolate and wild,
Sung by the Muse's tenderest child,
Sweet Collins' legendary strain,
“Its prospect but the wintry main,
Barren its soil, and bleak, and bare,
Nor vernal bee e'er murmur'd there :”—
There, when the breezes, stiff and starch,
Are soften'd of ungenial March,
And spring with sickly smile appears;
Preceded by their harbingers,
As if sent forth the land to spy,
Borne on south-western gales, with cry
And noisy scream, the Solan host
Again their old forsaken post,
A shadowy cloud of snow-white plumes,
In close compacted troop resumes,
And with September's shortening day
Restrike their tents and speed away.
But whence they come, and whither go,
There are not who pretend to know,
Save that disperst at large they flee
In parties round the boundless sea,
O'er Britain's girdling waters soar,
And oft by Cornwall's rugged shore
Float homeless 'mid the ambient air,
And seek at will their finny fare.
With stronger bill, and swifter flight,
And heavier weight, and broader sweep
Of pinion, plunges in the deep
The snow-white Gannet. Where the main
Girds the huge rock with liquid chain,
355
Or Ailsa's solitary cone,
Or, crowning with its rocky mass
Forth's widening frith, stupendous Bass;
Or where from Caledonian seas,
Bounding the stormy Hebrides,
The Thule of the wild north-west,
Saint Kilda rears his central crest:—
Saint Kilda, desolate and wild,
Sung by the Muse's tenderest child,
Sweet Collins' legendary strain,
“Its prospect but the wintry main,
Barren its soil, and bleak, and bare,
Nor vernal bee e'er murmur'd there :”—
There, when the breezes, stiff and starch,
Are soften'd of ungenial March,
And spring with sickly smile appears;
Preceded by their harbingers,
As if sent forth the land to spy,
Borne on south-western gales, with cry
And noisy scream, the Solan host
Again their old forsaken post,
A shadowy cloud of snow-white plumes,
In close compacted troop resumes,
And with September's shortening day
Restrike their tents and speed away.
But whence they come, and whither go,
There are not who pretend to know,
Save that disperst at large they flee
In parties round the boundless sea,
356
And oft by Cornwall's rugged shore
Float homeless 'mid the ambient air,
And seek at will their finny fare.
Then when more genial days invite,
'Tis theirs with congregating flight
To seek their island holds: amass
From the spare rock the wither'd grass
With daily toil; or floating reed,
Or fragments of the loose seaweed:
And in close caverns, cloven deep
By nature in the rocky steep,
Or on the mountain's shelving breast,
Arrange the loose constructed nest,
Occasion oft of bitter fray;
If one less fortunate survey
With envious and malignant eyes
A happier brother's well-earn'd prize:
For not the human heart alone
Would make another's wealth its own!
'Tis theirs with congregating flight
To seek their island holds: amass
From the spare rock the wither'd grass
With daily toil; or floating reed,
Or fragments of the loose seaweed:
And in close caverns, cloven deep
By nature in the rocky steep,
Or on the mountain's shelving breast,
Arrange the loose constructed nest,
Occasion oft of bitter fray;
If one less fortunate survey
With envious and malignant eyes
A happier brother's well-earn'd prize:
For not the human heart alone
Would make another's wealth its own!
And so the summer long they flock
In clouds about the sea-girt rock,
There on their single eggs to brood;
To hatch their speckled young; for food,
From their steep watch-tow'r in the sky,
Mark with keen glance the herring fry
Beneath the mantling waves advance;
With motion quick, as that keen glance,
Sheer on the passing prey below,
With black-tipt wing outstretch'd, to throw
Their weight abrupt, and through the air
Aloft the frequent victim bear.
In clouds about the sea-girt rock,
There on their single eggs to brood;
To hatch their speckled young; for food,
From their steep watch-tow'r in the sky,
Mark with keen glance the herring fry
Beneath the mantling waves advance;
With motion quick, as that keen glance,
Sheer on the passing prey below,
With black-tipt wing outstretch'd, to throw
Their weight abrupt, and through the air
Aloft the frequent victim bear.
357
Nor fails the victor oft to know
The skill of a successful foe,
If from the impending summit hung,
Thence on the twisted cordage slung,
To storm him in his rocky home,
Charged with the venturous fowler come
The osier cradle's threatening form!
Unapt to bear the assailing storm,
Though strive the parent bird to break
The onset with his pointed beak,
The venturous fowler's hard-earn'd prey
The eggs and young are swept away,
Caught by the expectant band beneath;
While he, from danger sav'd and death,
(Should death indeed his fearful trade
Forbear, though threatening, to invade,)
Clear from the waters' steep abyss,
Which skirts the jutting precipice,
Uplifted by his anxious friends
Clear to the beetling height ascends.
The skill of a successful foe,
If from the impending summit hung,
Thence on the twisted cordage slung,
To storm him in his rocky home,
Charged with the venturous fowler come
The osier cradle's threatening form!
Unapt to bear the assailing storm,
Though strive the parent bird to break
The onset with his pointed beak,
The venturous fowler's hard-earn'd prey
The eggs and young are swept away,
Caught by the expectant band beneath;
While he, from danger sav'd and death,
(Should death indeed his fearful trade
Forbear, though threatening, to invade,)
Clear from the waters' steep abyss,
Which skirts the jutting precipice,
Uplifted by his anxious friends
Clear to the beetling height ascends.
Nor less the Gannet's doom'd to find
The triumph of the human mind,
(A wondrous tale by annals old,
Nor less by modern witness told,
The excursive Muse would fain relate;)
If from above, the favourite bait
Lodg'd on a floating board, with eye
Intent the soaring bird espy;
Then wheeling swift, and from his height
With lightning speed down rushing, smite
Through the thick board with arrowy bill:
Through the thick board with piercing drill
The bill an inch and more hath past.
O'erpower'd, astounded, and aghast,
Inert the captur'd victim lies:
The joyous fowler grasps his prize,
Thence prompt to draw his frugal meal,
Thence prompt the casual wound to heal,
And barter at the distant town
The snow-white plumes and velvet down.
The triumph of the human mind,
(A wondrous tale by annals old,
Nor less by modern witness told,
The excursive Muse would fain relate;)
If from above, the favourite bait
Lodg'd on a floating board, with eye
Intent the soaring bird espy;
Then wheeling swift, and from his height
With lightning speed down rushing, smite
Through the thick board with arrowy bill:
Through the thick board with piercing drill
358
O'erpower'd, astounded, and aghast,
Inert the captur'd victim lies:
The joyous fowler grasps his prize,
Thence prompt to draw his frugal meal,
Thence prompt the casual wound to heal,
And barter at the distant town
The snow-white plumes and velvet down.
'Twere harder task for him to bear,
Whoe'er thy nesting place should dare
To storm, and war with thine or thee,
Brown Skua, eagle of the sea,
Thou island king! Who now art fain
At large to haunt the wintry main;
At large, thy summer sojourn past,
To dally with the stormy blast,
And sport thee on the boundless tide;
Nor longer on thy fort abide
'Mid Shetland's northern waves, that break
Round craggy Foulah's lonely peak.
Whoe'er thy nesting place should dare
To storm, and war with thine or thee,
Brown Skua, eagle of the sea,
Thou island king! Who now art fain
At large to haunt the wintry main;
At large, thy summer sojourn past,
To dally with the stormy blast,
And sport thee on the boundless tide;
Nor longer on thy fort abide
'Mid Shetland's northern waves, that break
Round craggy Foulah's lonely peak.
Bird of the sea, and sea-girt throne!
Who on thy cere-clad bill alone
The plundering falcon's ensign wear'st;
Alone of ocean's wanderers tear'st
Thy prey with hookrd claws acute,
Projected from the palmate foot!
Strong through the billowy deep to swim;
More strong to scud o'er ocean's brim,
Or forage in the aërial height!—
Scared, intercepted in his flight,
Through fear of thee the ravening gull
Disgorges from his gullet, full
Of fresh-caught fish, the finny prey:
Caught in its rapid seaward way,
The finny prey is doom'd to fill
Thy mightier gorge and stronger bill.
Nor dares the eagle's self to meet
Thy prowess, when thy island seat
Thou hold'st the Boreal waves among,
Guard of thy nest and cherish'd young.
Nor safe is venturous man to brave
Thy fastness in the mountain cave,
And of its treasur'd brood despoil.
Lest, 'mid his ineffectual toil,
Descending sheer thy piercing beak
On his cleft head unshelter'd wreak
Keen vengeance, and the rocky shore
Strew with his brains and streaming gore.
Then only rescued, if the advance
Of sharpen'd pole, or steel-capt lance,
Meet in full tilt thy furious course;
And by thine own impetuous force
Home through thy bronze-like corslet driven
Of plaited plumage rent and riven,
Prevent the death-denouncing blow,
And leave unscath'd the victor foe.
Who on thy cere-clad bill alone
The plundering falcon's ensign wear'st;
Alone of ocean's wanderers tear'st
Thy prey with hookrd claws acute,
Projected from the palmate foot!
Strong through the billowy deep to swim;
More strong to scud o'er ocean's brim,
Or forage in the aërial height!—
Scared, intercepted in his flight,
359
Disgorges from his gullet, full
Of fresh-caught fish, the finny prey:
Caught in its rapid seaward way,
The finny prey is doom'd to fill
Thy mightier gorge and stronger bill.
Nor dares the eagle's self to meet
Thy prowess, when thy island seat
Thou hold'st the Boreal waves among,
Guard of thy nest and cherish'd young.
Nor safe is venturous man to brave
Thy fastness in the mountain cave,
And of its treasur'd brood despoil.
Lest, 'mid his ineffectual toil,
Descending sheer thy piercing beak
On his cleft head unshelter'd wreak
Keen vengeance, and the rocky shore
Strew with his brains and streaming gore.
Then only rescued, if the advance
Of sharpen'd pole, or steel-capt lance,
Meet in full tilt thy furious course;
And by thine own impetuous force
Home through thy bronze-like corslet driven
Of plaited plumage rent and riven,
Prevent the death-denouncing blow,
And leave unscath'd the victor foe.
General dispersion of Sea Gulls and Sea Mews. Terns or Sea Swallows. Manks Puffin or Shearwater. Fulmar. Hi usefulness to the natives of St. Kilda. The Stormy Petrel. Muse's Dialogue with him.
Fain would the Muse her course pursue
On fancy's pleasant wing, and view,
Besides these champions of the race,
Those of inferior force, and trace
Or ere they quit their summer home,
O'er the wide sea at large to roam,
The birds that rear in countless flocks
Their nestlings on our British rocks.
On fancy's pleasant wing, and view,
Besides these champions of the race,
Those of inferior force, and trace
360
O'er the wide sea at large to roam,
The birds that rear in countless flocks
Their nestlings on our British rocks.
Vain were the task: yet as her flight
She takes from Shetland isles to Wight,
From Thames to Shannon, may she note,
How on the rolling billows float;
Or wander o'er the pebbly beach,
And shore of level sand; or stretch
Their wings above the ocean stream
With cry, and bark, and laugh, and scream,
Which, half amid the whelming sound
Of wind and surging waters drown'd,
The listener's rapt attention claims;
Of various families, and names
That vary with their changeful hues,
The ponderous Gulls and lighter Mews.
She takes from Shetland isles to Wight,
From Thames to Shannon, may she note,
How on the rolling billows float;
Or wander o'er the pebbly beach,
And shore of level sand; or stretch
Their wings above the ocean stream
With cry, and bark, and laugh, and scream,
Which, half amid the whelming sound
Of wind and surging waters drown'd,
The listener's rapt attention claims;
Of various families, and names
That vary with their changeful hues,
The ponderous Gulls and lighter Mews.
Yet may she make far-off descent
On the rich shores of southern Kent,
Or bleak Northumbria's isles of Fern,
Discursive with the rapid Tern:
And note their congregated flight,
Now soaring up the aërial height,
Now pouncing on the fishy main,
Now wheeling round and round again;
The ear-piercing clamour, loud and shrill;
The slender head, the awl-like bill,
The pinions' pointed length of sail,
The tapering form, the forked tail,
The motions nimble, light, and free,
That mark those swallows of the sea.
On the rich shores of southern Kent,
Or bleak Northumbria's isles of Fern,
Discursive with the rapid Tern:
And note their congregated flight,
Now soaring up the aërial height,
Now pouncing on the fishy main,
Now wheeling round and round again;
The ear-piercing clamour, loud and shrill;
The slender head, the awl-like bill,
The pinions' pointed length of sail,
The tapering form, the forked tail,
The motions nimble, light, and free,
That mark those swallows of the sea.
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Yet may she northward set her sail,
And scud before the favouring gale,
Where by lone Man the racing tide
Runs swift, and on its southern side
That islet stands, by dweller known
None save the ocean tribes alone,
And they the burrowing race, whose lair
Usurp'd the tribes of ocean share.
There may she pause, and see them spring
Waked by the morn on clanging wing,
And darken, as with yell and scream
They wheel around, the orient beam:
But chiefly note the Puffin sheer
O'er the scarce dimpled wave career,
And fly at once, and run, and swim,
With wing and foot and pendent limb,
And scarcely in the water dip
The unwet web or pinion's tip;
A compound motion, undefin'd,
As gliding on against the wind
With restless course the livelong day
They forage for their watry prey.
And scud before the favouring gale,
Where by lone Man the racing tide
Runs swift, and on its southern side
That islet stands, by dweller known
None save the ocean tribes alone,
And they the burrowing race, whose lair
Usurp'd the tribes of ocean share.
There may she pause, and see them spring
Waked by the morn on clanging wing,
And darken, as with yell and scream
They wheel around, the orient beam:
But chiefly note the Puffin sheer
O'er the scarce dimpled wave career,
And fly at once, and run, and swim,
With wing and foot and pendent limb,
And scarcely in the water dip
The unwet web or pinion's tip;
A compound motion, undefin'd,
As gliding on against the wind
With restless course the livelong day
They forage for their watry prey.
Yet may she coast more northern seas,
Round Hebrid isles and Orcades,
And Shetland onward, till more far
Her course the icy mountains bar;
And there the kindred Fulmar seek,
His nostril broad, and crooked beak
With yellow nail projecting; whence,
Instinctive weapon of defence,
By nature taught, against his foes
A stream of liquid oil he throws
At random gather'd from the sea,
His floating food; more plenteously,
As tending on the Harpooner's sail,
He shares the plunder of the whale.
How great is nature's kindness, shown
When needed most! From him alone,
Free burgher on her common way,
Himself to man an easy prey,
By day supplied a grateful feast,
Their ailments cur'd, their wounds redrest,
Their lamp illum'd with evening light,
With down their couches strewn by night,
Saint Kilda's simple natives find;
Nor less a signal of the wind,
As by his flittings or repose
Defin'd the aërial current flows.
Round Hebrid isles and Orcades,
And Shetland onward, till more far
Her course the icy mountains bar;
And there the kindred Fulmar seek,
His nostril broad, and crooked beak
With yellow nail projecting; whence,
Instinctive weapon of defence,
By nature taught, against his foes
A stream of liquid oil he throws
362
His floating food; more plenteously,
As tending on the Harpooner's sail,
He shares the plunder of the whale.
How great is nature's kindness, shown
When needed most! From him alone,
Free burgher on her common way,
Himself to man an easy prey,
By day supplied a grateful feast,
Their ailments cur'd, their wounds redrest,
Their lamp illum'd with evening light,
With down their couches strewn by night,
Saint Kilda's simple natives find;
Nor less a signal of the wind,
As by his flittings or repose
Defin'd the aërial current flows.
Yet may she stretch—But lo! her eye
That little bird, swift coursing by,
Regards with manifest intent,
To learn his roving spirit's bent:
And thus she speaks a kindly word
Of question to that little bird:
And thus, in fancy's listening ear,
That little bird gives answer clear.
That little bird, swift coursing by,
Regards with manifest intent,
To learn his roving spirit's bent:
And thus she speaks a kindly word
Of question to that little bird:
And thus, in fancy's listening ear,
That little bird gives answer clear.
“Whence and what art thou, little bird?” “From Shetland's isles I come,
Where round the lonely mountain rock the northern billows foam:
Where almost all the summer long the sun shows forth his light,
But now its fast-diminish'd rays give place to lengthening night.”
Where round the lonely mountain rock the northern billows foam:
Where almost all the summer long the sun shows forth his light,
But now its fast-diminish'd rays give place to lengthening night.”
363
“What didst thou there, thou little bird?” “In the sweet vernal hour
I sought a solitary isle to make my nuptial bow'r:
There with my mate our egg to hatch, our feeble brood to rear,
As our forefathers long had done erewhile from year to year.”
I sought a solitary isle to make my nuptial bow'r:
There with my mate our egg to hatch, our feeble brood to rear,
As our forefathers long had done erewhile from year to year.”
“What art thou call'd, thou little bird?” “From holy man I claim,
Who strove of old to walk the deep, the little Petrel's name:
And for that o'er the ocean wave with matchless speed I flee,
From some the Courser's name I bear, the Courser of the sea.”
Who strove of old to walk the deep, the little Petrel's name:
And for that o'er the ocean wave with matchless speed I flee,
From some the Courser's name I bear, the Courser of the sea.”
“Now whither go'st thou, little bird?” “I go o'er ocean wide,
On the white horses of the sea, the curling waves to ride:
To ramble, as my fancy leads, o'er all the wintry main,
Till genial hours again return, and spring-tide smile again.”
On the white horses of the sea, the curling waves to ride:
To ramble, as my fancy leads, o'er all the wintry main,
Till genial hours again return, and spring-tide smile again.”
“Far wilt thou fly, thou little bird?” “Afar and wide I flee,
From north to south, from east to west, o'er all the Atlantick sea.
For foreign climes the last am I to quit thy parting track,
And I the first at thy return to bid thee welcome back.”
From north to south, from east to west, o'er all the Atlantick sea.
364
And I the first at thy return to bid thee welcome back.”
“Where is thy homestead, little bird?” “Upon the ocean's breast
The dwelling of my homestead is, my sojourn and my rest.
The wild winds sing the lullaby, that lulls me to my sleep,
My curtains are the arching waves, my cradle is the deep.”
The dwelling of my homestead is, my sojourn and my rest.
The wild winds sing the lullaby, that lulls me to my sleep,
My curtains are the arching waves, my cradle is the deep.”
“What living find'st thou, little bird?” “The waters yield me food,
Ten thousand precious things that float upon the salt sea flood:
The oil, that films its surface o'er, clings to my plumed breast,
Thence by my bill imbib'd becomes my most delicious feast.”
Ten thousand precious things that float upon the salt sea flood:
The oil, that films its surface o'er, clings to my plumed breast,
Thence by my bill imbib'd becomes my most delicious feast.”
“What vessel bears thee, little bird?” “No vessel to supply
My passage o'er the seas I need, who run, and swim, and fly;
Smooth without effort glide along, without fatigue outstrip,
And sport behind, before, around the many-winged ship.
My passage o'er the seas I need, who run, and swim, and fly;
Smooth without effort glide along, without fatigue outstrip,
And sport behind, before, around the many-winged ship.
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Yet mount I not the vollied clouds, but with soft bosom sweep,
With web-like foot, and pointed wing, the surface of the deep:
On water, as on glass, unbent with printless footstep trip,
And skim the wave, nor in the spray my unwet pinion dip.”
With web-like foot, and pointed wing, the surface of the deep:
On water, as on glass, unbent with printless footstep trip,
And skim the wave, nor in the spray my unwet pinion dip.”
“What is thy refuge little bird, if storms thy path o'ertake?”
“I hie me to the sheltering rock, or passing vessel's wake;
And food with refuge there I find, if kindly heart a-board,
For kindly is the seaman's heart, a welcome dole afford.
“I hie me to the sheltering rock, or passing vessel's wake;
And food with refuge there I find, if kindly heart a-board,
For kindly is the seaman's heart, a welcome dole afford.
There lurking close beneath the stern, wash'd by the surge I ply,
And utter through the starless night a faint and wailing cry.
The mariner with watchful eye regards my crouching form,
And notes my wailing note of fear, presageful of the storm.”
And utter through the starless night a faint and wailing cry.
The mariner with watchful eye regards my crouching form,
And notes my wailing note of fear, presageful of the storm.”
“What deems he of thy presence then?” “Alas! of me he deems,
As of a phantom shape that haunts the sick man's fitful dreams,
An ominous portentous sign of witchery and woe,
As if my presence caus'd the storm, it only serves to show.
As of a phantom shape that haunts the sick man's fitful dreams,
366
As if my presence caus'd the storm, it only serves to show.
And when the storm at last arrives, by my alarm foreshown,
And wildly o'er the tossing waste the labouring bark is blown,
On me all innocent and free from guile he casts the blame,
And with ungracious titles blends the harmless Petrel's name.
And wildly o'er the tossing waste the labouring bark is blown,
On me all innocent and free from guile he casts the blame,
And with ungracious titles blends the harmless Petrel's name.
But though on me his erring tongue unkindly names bestow,
He seeks not with unkindly act to work me scathe or woe:
Some terror checks him, or perhaps some gentle thought and kind,
And so the refuge that I crave uninjur'd there I find.”
He seeks not with unkindly act to work me scathe or woe:
Some terror checks him, or perhaps some gentle thought and kind,
And so the refuge that I crave uninjur'd there I find.”
“Thence whither go'st thou, little bird?” “If from the wintry main
I 'scape in safety, and behold the vernal days again,
I speed me to my native isle the northern seas among,
And tend my houshold cares again, and rear again my young.
I 'scape in safety, and behold the vernal days again,
I speed me to my native isle the northern seas among,
And tend my houshold cares again, and rear again my young.
367
Till there perchance some islander shall seise me, more unkind
Than all the rage of wintry seas, and all the stormy wind;
Shall perforate with lighted wick my oil-impregnate frame,
And of the little Petrel make a lamp, a winged flame.”
Than all the rage of wintry seas, and all the stormy wind;
Shall perforate with lighted wick my oil-impregnate frame,
And of the little Petrel make a lamp, a winged flame.”
“In sooth it seems, thou little bird, thou lead'st a weary life,
For ever warring with the winds, and with the waves at strife:
For ever perils by the sea above thy path impend,
And thence preserv'd thou meet'st on land a melancholy end.”
For ever warring with the winds, and with the waves at strife:
For ever perils by the sea above thy path impend,
And thence preserv'd thou meet'st on land a melancholy end.”
“Not so: the pow'rs, my Maker gave, are meet for my employ,
And what thou deem'st a weary life, I deem a life of joy:
Of future ills it recks me not, on ocean or a-shore,
Death's shaft is swiftly sped, nor fear embitters it before.”
And what thou deem'st a weary life, I deem a life of joy:
Of future ills it recks me not, on ocean or a-shore,
Death's shaft is swiftly sped, nor fear embitters it before.”
“Now, little Petrel, fare thee well, fleet courser of the sea!
Clear symptoms mark I of the care of Providence in thee:
Of all the palmate tribe the least, of all 'tis thine to stray
The furthest o'er the boundless sea, and find thy homeward way.
Clear symptoms mark I of the care of Providence in thee:
Of all the palmate tribe the least, of all 'tis thine to stray
The furthest o'er the boundless sea, and find thy homeward way.
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Be happy, as thy nature's law permits! And O, may He,
Who rescued Peter from the waves, and gives such pow'r to thee,
My strength in this wide waste of life to meet my trials square,
And teach me where he wills to go, and what he wills to bear !”
Who rescued Peter from the waves, and gives such pow'r to thee,
My strength in this wide waste of life to meet my trials square,
And teach me where he wills to go, and what he wills to bear !”
371
OCTOBER.
Symptoms of increasing decline in the early part of October mixt with pleasurable features. Proper effects of an acquaintance with nature, confidence in Providence, and benevolence to our fellow creatures
With symptoms of the year's decline
Mark'd by each deep and furrow'd line,
That gathers on thy clouded face;
But not without thy proper grace,
Such grace as lights with placid gleams
The eyes of ancient men, and beams
In their meek smile, while on the head
The frost of hoary hairs is shed:
October, we thy early day
Rejoice in, and desire its stay.
For, as in ancient men, the while
Appears that meek benignant smile,
The wrinkles on the furrow'd cheek,
Inveterate signals, still bespeak
What is the next approaching stage
Of their eventful pilgrimage:
So well we know thy present state
What darker prospects soon await;
And ev'n as thou dost first appear,
Fain would we have thee linger here,
Nor change thy mild and pleasant day
For signs of more confirm'd decay.
Mark'd by each deep and furrow'd line,
That gathers on thy clouded face;
But not without thy proper grace,
Such grace as lights with placid gleams
The eyes of ancient men, and beams
In their meek smile, while on the head
The frost of hoary hairs is shed:
October, we thy early day
Rejoice in, and desire its stay.
For, as in ancient men, the while
Appears that meek benignant smile,
The wrinkles on the furrow'd cheek,
Inveterate signals, still bespeak
What is the next approaching stage
Of their eventful pilgrimage:
So well we know thy present state
What darker prospects soon await;
And ev'n as thou dost first appear,
Fain would we have thee linger here,
Nor change thy mild and pleasant day
For signs of more confirm'd decay.
What though the chill and frosty morn,
Late of its fair proportion shorn;
The hasty twilight, that bereaves
Of their full length the darkening eves;
The lengthening nights, that now assume
More than their equal share of gloom;
Mind us of charms, alas! gone by,
And haply wake a longing sigh:
Yet much, when once is spent and past
The tempest's equinoctial blast,
While yet the radiant noons retain
Signs of fair autumn's mellow reign,
Ere yet the deepening shadows near
Of dark November's form appear;
With much is calm October fraught,
To prompt the sadly-pleasing thought;
With much, amusement to dispense
And pleasure to the admiring sense;
With much, enjoyment's better part,
To store the mind, and mend the heart:
If objects, which the sense amuse,
Give cause for more exalted views,
And forms of earth be made to bear
Stamps of a heavenly character.
Late of its fair proportion shorn;
The hasty twilight, that bereaves
Of their full length the darkening eves;
372
More than their equal share of gloom;
Mind us of charms, alas! gone by,
And haply wake a longing sigh:
Yet much, when once is spent and past
The tempest's equinoctial blast,
While yet the radiant noons retain
Signs of fair autumn's mellow reign,
Ere yet the deepening shadows near
Of dark November's form appear;
With much is calm October fraught,
To prompt the sadly-pleasing thought;
With much, amusement to dispense
And pleasure to the admiring sense;
With much, enjoyment's better part,
To store the mind, and mend the heart:
If objects, which the sense amuse,
Give cause for more exalted views,
And forms of earth be made to bear
Stamps of a heavenly character.
For 'tis not he, that throws his glance
Excursive o'er this wide expanse,
And thence on his mimetick page
Can sketch, with Israel's royal sage,
In all its form and tints transferr'd
The portraiture of every bird,
That floats upon the liquid air;
Of every stone earth's caverns bear,
Or plant that from her surface springs,
All beasts, and fish, and creeping things;
Who reads the book of nature right:
Unless from scenes that please the sight,
And to the mind unfold the door
Of nature's comprehensive store,
He learn that treasure-house to scan,
A wiser and a better man:
More wise, to see how separate each
May the same lore instructive teach
Of deep contrivance, goodness, might;
How link in link, they all unite
To show the same pervading soul,
That rules and animates the whole:
And better, in his heavenly Guide
If more and more his heart confide,
By whom their place and pow'r maintain
The mutual links of nature's chain,
By whom all living souls are fed,
And “all our hairs are numbered ;”
And thence he learn, still more to see
With eye of mild benignity
Each living thing, as one that draws
Life from th same creative Cause,
As one that's form'd alike to share
With him the same preserving care.
Excursive o'er this wide expanse,
And thence on his mimetick page
Can sketch, with Israel's royal sage,
In all its form and tints transferr'd
The portraiture of every bird,
That floats upon the liquid air;
Of every stone earth's caverns bear,
Or plant that from her surface springs,
All beasts, and fish, and creeping things;
Who reads the book of nature right:
Unless from scenes that please the sight,
373
Of nature's comprehensive store,
He learn that treasure-house to scan,
A wiser and a better man:
More wise, to see how separate each
May the same lore instructive teach
Of deep contrivance, goodness, might;
How link in link, they all unite
To show the same pervading soul,
That rules and animates the whole:
And better, in his heavenly Guide
If more and more his heart confide,
By whom their place and pow'r maintain
The mutual links of nature's chain,
By whom all living souls are fed,
And “all our hairs are numbered ;”
And thence he learn, still more to see
With eye of mild benignity
Each living thing, as one that draws
Life from th same creative Cause,
As one that's form'd alike to share
With him the same preserving care.
Beauty of a fine October day. The rural walk. Misty morning succeeded by a clear noon. Gossamer. The upland. Distant sounds breaking the stillness. Delightfulness of such sounds. Revived song of the Redbreast. Pied Wagtail. Linnets, their change of plumage. The Goldfinch. Thistledown
How lovely this October day!
Mild Autumn still maintains his sway,
In part controll'd, but not subdued,
By tyrant Winter's sceptre rude.
Mild Autumn still maintains his sway,
In part controll'd, but not subdued,
By tyrant Winter's sceptre rude.
Come, and ere yet the miry way
Forbids us far a-field to stray,
Come, well-beloved, forth with me:
For much thou lov'st to hear and see
“Each rural sound, each rural sight,”
Pure source of innocent delight,
Now by the swiftly waning year
Made to the pensive mind more dear.
Or, if perchance domestick care,
Or health infirm, detain thee there,
Alone I go: the autumnal hour
O'er all things sheds a soothing power,
And grateful to the musing mood
Is now the rural solitude.
Forbids us far a-field to stray,
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For much thou lov'st to hear and see
“Each rural sound, each rural sight,”
Pure source of innocent delight,
Now by the swiftly waning year
Made to the pensive mind more dear.
Or, if perchance domestick care,
Or health infirm, detain thee there,
Alone I go: the autumnal hour
O'er all things sheds a soothing power,
And grateful to the musing mood
Is now the rural solitude.
How bright, and blue, and calm, and clear,
Appears the unclouded atmosphere!
About the mountain's viewless head
The morn in wreathed folds was spread:
And vainly strain'd the inquiring eye
For stream or hedge, for earth or sky.
But lo! withdrawn the misty skreen,
The far-off landscape smiles serene;
And not a speck we see impair
The pure ess of the bright blue air!
Appears the unclouded atmosphere!
About the mountain's viewless head
The morn in wreathed folds was spread:
And vainly strain'd the inquiring eye
For stream or hedge, for earth or sky.
But lo! withdrawn the misty skreen,
The far-off landscape smiles serene;
And not a speck we see impair
The pure ess of the bright blue air!
Yet remnants of that misty skreen
Still linger on the meadows green,
On coppice bow'r, and hedgerow spray,
That flaunting skirts the amusive way.
The spider there her mazy line
Suspends, how delicately fine,
Besprent with many a sparkling gem,
From blade to blade, from stem to stem.
Like pleasant thoughts, that rest behind,
The bright memorials to the mind
Of ills, that o'er its prospects cast
An early gloom, now clear'd and past.
Still linger on the meadows green,
On coppice bow'r, and hedgerow spray,
That flaunting skirts the amusive way.
The spider there her mazy line
Suspends, how delicately fine,
Besprent with many a sparkling gem,
From blade to blade, from stem to stem.
Like pleasant thoughts, that rest behind,
The bright memorials to the mind
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An early gloom, now clear'd and past.
Climb we yon path, and pause awhile,
Inclining on the upland stile!
How deep the stillness all around!
How clearly comes each distant sound!
The schoolboy's shout now mounts the hill,
And now the ploughman's whistle shrill;
Hark! 'tis the village cock! and hark!
'Tis now the lonely sheep-dog's bark!
Or woodquest's solemn coo: or cry
Harsh-grating of the watchful pie:
Or jay's loud scream of startled fear,
Announcing steps approaching near,
Return'd by others, as they press
To gain the thicket's deep recess:
Or gabbling geese from elmy grange,
That o'er the late-shorn stubble range:
Or rooks, that crowd the new-turn'd ground,
Or seek the wood with croaking sound.
Such simple sounds, that please the ear
In nature's ample theatre,
Find echoes in the feeling heart
More than the richest strains of art!
Inclining on the upland stile!
How deep the stillness all around!
How clearly comes each distant sound!
The schoolboy's shout now mounts the hill,
And now the ploughman's whistle shrill;
Hark! 'tis the village cock! and hark!
'Tis now the lonely sheep-dog's bark!
Or woodquest's solemn coo: or cry
Harsh-grating of the watchful pie:
Or jay's loud scream of startled fear,
Announcing steps approaching near,
Return'd by others, as they press
To gain the thicket's deep recess:
Or gabbling geese from elmy grange,
That o'er the late-shorn stubble range:
Or rooks, that crowd the new-turn'd ground,
Or seek the wood with croaking sound.
Such simple sounds, that please the ear
In nature's ample theatre,
Find echoes in the feeling heart
More than the richest strains of art!
Nor wholly is the hedge-row mute.
Perch'd by the spindle's crimson fruit,
Or the red cornel's leaves among,
The Redbreast trills his cheerful song.
Silent erewhile, of late again
He wakes the interrupted strain,
As if with kind intent to cheer
The dulness of the waning year.
Sing on sweet bird, in safety sing!
A feather of thy russet wing
We would not hurt: and if thou come
To glad our hearth, the frequent crumb
Shall bid thee welcome. Far are flown
Thy social tribes, while thou alone
Sing'st blithe, as in the hour of prime,
Lov'd warbler of the autumnal time.
Of many an early friend bereft,
More prize we those who still are left!
Perch'd by the spindle's crimson fruit,
Or the red cornel's leaves among,
The Redbreast trills his cheerful song.
Silent erewhile, of late again
He wakes the interrupted strain,
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The dulness of the waning year.
Sing on sweet bird, in safety sing!
A feather of thy russet wing
We would not hurt: and if thou come
To glad our hearth, the frequent crumb
Shall bid thee welcome. Far are flown
Thy social tribes, while thou alone
Sing'st blithe, as in the hour of prime,
Lov'd warbler of the autumnal time.
Of many an early friend bereft,
More prize we those who still are left!
And oft I stop, with thee to note,
Though not like thee of tuneful throat
Or breast of ruddy plumage, him
The bird of graceful figure slim,
And robe and vest and kerchief pied;
As to and fro, from side to side,
With quivering tail, and forward head,
Quick runs he o'er the dewy mead,
And darts upon his insect prey:—
Or mark the flocks of linnets gray
Start from the sheltering hedge beneath,
And flutter o'er the furze-clad heath.
See, from their white-plum'd fronts are fled,
And dusky throat, the flaming red,
Till spring again with love illume
The lustre of each blood-bright plume.
Though not like thee of tuneful throat
Or breast of ruddy plumage, him
The bird of graceful figure slim,
And robe and vest and kerchief pied;
As to and fro, from side to side,
With quivering tail, and forward head,
Quick runs he o'er the dewy mead,
And darts upon his insect prey:—
Or mark the flocks of linnets gray
Start from the sheltering hedge beneath,
And flutter o'er the furze-clad heath.
See, from their white-plum'd fronts are fled,
And dusky throat, the flaming red,
Till spring again with love illume
The lustre of each blood-bright plume.
About the globe-like cluster'd ball,
Which crowns the upright thistle tall,
With many a fellow of his kind,
Fruit of the summer months combin'd,
The Goldfinch waves his yellow wing;
And in the sunshine wantoning
Pecks from the plant the plumed seed:—
Swift from its native dwelling freed,
The down unfolds its radiate sail,
And dances on the buxom gale,
Or o'er the ground disporting light
Streaks the green turf with flakes of white.
Poor bird, thy few brief days enjoy!
Soon shall the idle truant boy
Intrap, and in a cage include
Thy sportive form; or winter rude
Whelm'd in the snow thy food withhold,
Or pinch thee with inclement cold.
But thine, from vain forebodings free,
Meanwhile the cheerful heartsome glee.
And so to us does Wisdom call,
And bids us not with care forestall
O'erexquisite the ills that lie
Hid in unseen futurity:
But thankfully to day enjoy
God's bounty, nor the mind annoy
With anxious musings on to morrow;
And, if our portion then be sorrow,
To bear with faith, as best we may,
And patience the afflictive day.
Unwise the foretaste of a doom
Severe, which may or may not come;
And, if it comes, to blunt its sting
May haply with its coming bring,
Beyond anticipation's note,
Some sweet and precious antidote:
Enough for man, what God's high will
Appoints, his daily share of ill!
Which crowns the upright thistle tall,
With many a fellow of his kind,
Fruit of the summer months combin'd,
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And in the sunshine wantoning
Pecks from the plant the plumed seed:—
Swift from its native dwelling freed,
The down unfolds its radiate sail,
And dances on the buxom gale,
Or o'er the ground disporting light
Streaks the green turf with flakes of white.
Poor bird, thy few brief days enjoy!
Soon shall the idle truant boy
Intrap, and in a cage include
Thy sportive form; or winter rude
Whelm'd in the snow thy food withhold,
Or pinch thee with inclement cold.
But thine, from vain forebodings free,
Meanwhile the cheerful heartsome glee.
And so to us does Wisdom call,
And bids us not with care forestall
O'erexquisite the ills that lie
Hid in unseen futurity:
But thankfully to day enjoy
God's bounty, nor the mind annoy
With anxious musings on to morrow;
And, if our portion then be sorrow,
To bear with faith, as best we may,
And patience the afflictive day.
Unwise the foretaste of a doom
Severe, which may or may not come;
And, if it comes, to blunt its sting
May haply with its coming bring,
Beyond anticipation's note,
Some sweet and precious antidote:
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Appoints, his daily share of ill!
The Woodland. The Nuthatch; his remarkable actions and formation. Squirrel. Tree Creeper: difficulty of noticing him: his usefulness. The Pheasant; his beautiful plumage. The Partridge; his attachment to his brood
Hark to that clattering noise afar,
Which with repeated frequent jar
Sounds from the depth of yonder wood,
And mars its silent solitude!
Approach, but gently and with care,
Lest you the busy woodman scare,
And of his craft's rich meed despoil.
See, where intent upon his toil
He stands, and smites with frequent blow
Of his hard bill the prize below,
Firm in that chink tenacious shut,
As in a vice, the hazel nut.
The frequent blow the nut resists:
And now around he turns and twists
His anvil, that a part more weak
May feel the impression of his beak;
Which, by the body's forceful swing
Propell'd, makes loud and louder ring
The thicket, till the vanquish'd shell
Yields to the mighty master's spell,
And at his foot the hidden prize
Disclos'd, the precious kernel lies.
Which with repeated frequent jar
Sounds from the depth of yonder wood,
And mars its silent solitude!
Approach, but gently and with care,
Lest you the busy woodman scare,
And of his craft's rich meed despoil.
See, where intent upon his toil
He stands, and smites with frequent blow
Of his hard bill the prize below,
Firm in that chink tenacious shut,
As in a vice, the hazel nut.
The frequent blow the nut resists:
And now around he turns and twists
His anvil, that a part more weak
May feel the impression of his beak;
Which, by the body's forceful swing
Propell'd, makes loud and louder ring
The thicket, till the vanquish'd shell
Yields to the mighty master's spell,
And at his foot the hidden prize
Disclos'd, the precious kernel lies.
'Tis but a slight and feeble bird,
Thus far off through the thicket heard,
The little Nuthatch. But the skill
And vigour of his pick-axe bill;
The force of his expanded feet,
So firm to grasp, to run so fleet,
As up and down with motion free
He climbs, descends, the forest tree;
Nor least of all, his mingled hue
Of chestnut, buff, white, gray, and blue,
Will with the sight our care repay
In wandering by the woodland way.
Still more, if kind occasion serve
Thus far off through the thicket heard,
The little Nuthatch. But the skill
And vigour of his pick-axe bill;
The force of his expanded feet,
So firm to grasp, to run so fleet,
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He climbs, descends, the forest tree;
Nor least of all, his mingled hue
Of chestnut, buff, white, gray, and blue,
Will with the sight our care repay
In wandering by the woodland way.
To aid us, curious to observe
The nimble-footed Squirrel: how
From tree to tree, from bough to bough,
With steerage of his bushy tail,
And grasping claws, which never fail
To seise the destin'd twig, he flings
His form in seeming flight; or springs
Up the steep bole, with timid glance,
Mocking the insidious foot's advance;
Or shrouded in the leafy cloke
Of hazel, beech, or kingly oak,
With clasping fore-feet handles fast
Acorn, or nut, or husky mast;
Then stays his task awhile, to pry
With jealous and inquiring eye,
What steps disturb his lone domain;
Then turns him to his task again,
Plies with sharp teeth his brisk pursuit,
And revels in the unfolded fruit.
See you the little Creeper twine
Round yonder trunk his spiral line,
Intent each mossy tuft to mark,
Each crevice in the furrow'd bark,
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The insect's eggs or tiny brood?—
Scarce will you hear his frequent squeak,
Of sound monotonous and weak;
Scarce his retiring figure see:—
As round the intervening tree
Mouse-like in size and act he steals,
The tree's impeding trunk conceals
His back in sober tawny drest,
Wings streak'd with brown, and silvery breast.
Nor known, nor heeded much: but sent
To man a powerful instrument,
From orchard-fruit, and garden-flower,
Hedgerow, and copse, and woodland bower,
To spoil the insect, and disarm
The canker of its pow'r to harm.
Such debt for kindness oft we owe
To those we little heed or know:
Such benefit from meaner things
To those of nobler semblance springs:
Such blessings flow from feeble hands,
When the Creator's will commands!
Was it the Pheasant's whirring wing,
Which, starting up with sudden spring,
The thicket's soothing silence broke?
Was it the fowler's vollied stroke,
Which aim'd with sure and sad effect
The Pheasant's whirring pinion check'd?
The shot arrests him in his pride!
The blood his crimson'd plumes has died,
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Nor aught to stanch the deadly wound
His plumes of mingled hues avail,
The glossy head, the streaming tail,
The breast, which burnish'd scales infold
Of chestnut, blue, and verdant gold.
Nor aught avails the Partridge' fate
To hinder, for his cherish'd mate
The heart with nuptial truth indued,
And care parental for his brood.
The Pheasant's fall I grieve; but more
The Partridge' hapless lot deplore:
For still for death, however need
Demand and justify the deed,
The heart a pang of pity feels;
Most, when the blow most sudden steals
On those who seem the joys to prove
And charities of kindred love!
Fieldfare and Redwing. Migratory birds from the north. Intercepted by severe weather in their passage southward. The Stare or Starling; his peculiarities. Price paid for social enjoyments
About the white-thorn's berried bush
The Field-fare and the Red-wing'd Thrush
Flit in unnumber'd throngs; or speed
To rushy fen, or plashy mead,
Impatient for their insect fare,
And darken with their flight the air.
The Field-fare and the Red-wing'd Thrush
Flit in unnumber'd throngs; or speed
To rushy fen, or plashy mead,
Impatient for their insect fare,
And darken with their flight the air.
What! do your northern banquets fail;
And, pois'd upon the autumnal gale,
Seek ye beneath our milder sky
And warmer sun a fresh supply?
Feed on, while yet the hedge-girt field
Rich store of scarlet haws shall yield!
Feed on, while yet by frost unbound,
Uncloth'd by snow, the marshy ground
Rich store of insect food shall spare!
Then southward haste! But ah! beware,
Lest, joying in your festive cheer,
Too long ye tempt the wintry year;
Your flight lest sudden dangers bar,
Your strength untimely famine mar;
And strew you on the stranger's shore,
To seek your vernal haunts no more:
No more to cross the tranquil seas,
And view your native maple trees,
And pines that wave above the rills,
That fall from huge Norwegian hills;
Your groves of branching juniper!
And, pois'd upon the autumnal gale,
Seek ye beneath our milder sky
And warmer sun a fresh supply?
Feed on, while yet the hedge-girt field
Rich store of scarlet haws shall yield!
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Uncloth'd by snow, the marshy ground
Rich store of insect food shall spare!
Then southward haste! But ah! beware,
Lest, joying in your festive cheer,
Too long ye tempt the wintry year;
Your flight lest sudden dangers bar,
Your strength untimely famine mar;
And strew you on the stranger's shore,
To seek your vernal haunts no more:
No more to cross the tranquil seas,
And view your native maple trees,
And pines that wave above the rills,
That fall from huge Norwegian hills;
Your groves of branching juniper!
He too, full fain as now to share
Your haunts, your spoils, the chattering Stare,
With feet that lightly brush the ground,
With wing revolving round and round,
Whirl within whirl, in spiral flight,
Ere on his evening couch he light,
Oft shares your doom, together lost
By driving snow, or pinching frost.
What boots him then his speckled vest;
In black and green and purple drest?
His whistle clear, and strong, and shrill,
Beyond what human lip can trill?
And wondrous faculty to reach
Sounds incomplete of human speech?
Yes, pretty bird; thy manners gay,
With many an arch and cunning way,
Commend thee oft, a living toy,
A playmate to the sportive boy.
Though for his care no trifling cost
Thou pay, the price thy freedom lost,
Thou'rt sav'd from ills that frequent wait
On thy expos'd precarious state,
The gun, the net, the season's strife;
And blest with shelter, food, and life.
Nor is such price confin'd to thee:
'Tis paid by all in just degree,
Who scape, by education tamed,
The ills of nature unreclaimed,
The safety, comforts, joys to know,
The rules of social life bestow.
But thee thy wicker bars restrain,
Our wider range the law's domain.
Your haunts, your spoils, the chattering Stare,
With feet that lightly brush the ground,
With wing revolving round and round,
Whirl within whirl, in spiral flight,
Ere on his evening couch he light,
Oft shares your doom, together lost
By driving snow, or pinching frost.
What boots him then his speckled vest;
In black and green and purple drest?
His whistle clear, and strong, and shrill,
Beyond what human lip can trill?
And wondrous faculty to reach
Sounds incomplete of human speech?
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With many an arch and cunning way,
Commend thee oft, a living toy,
A playmate to the sportive boy.
Though for his care no trifling cost
Thou pay, the price thy freedom lost,
Thou'rt sav'd from ills that frequent wait
On thy expos'd precarious state,
The gun, the net, the season's strife;
And blest with shelter, food, and life.
Nor is such price confin'd to thee:
'Tis paid by all in just degree,
Who scape, by education tamed,
The ills of nature unreclaimed,
The safety, comforts, joys to know,
The rules of social life bestow.
But thee thy wicker bars restrain,
Our wider range the law's domain.
The Marsh. The Lapwing. His actions. Artifices to protect his young. The Snipe, his shyness and peculiar flight. The Woodcock, his habitations. A Nightfeeder. Peculiar adaptation of his powers. Contrivance perpetually apparent in the works of creation
From far his active form descry,
Your ear amid his noisy sport
Will tell the Lapwing's lov'd resort.
For now from field or sandy shore
In congregated crowds they pour,
Bound o'er the land now here, now there,
Or sport and frolick in the air
With restless wing; or tap the ground,
In hope the oft-repeated sound
May penetrate the shaking mould,
And fright the earth-worm from his hold;
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Or mark with sharp inquiring ken,
When from the subterranean den
In part appears the expected prey,
And drag it writhing to the day.
Hark to his cries! the ear they greet
With loud incessant call, “Pe-weet.”
And by the admiring eye is seen
With purple gloss'd his coat of green;
Bent upward with elastick spring
His darker crest; and flapping wing,
Which bears him swift away to shun
Suspected steps, half flight half run.
Poor bird! They say, his nestling brood
To skreen, if lurching dog intrude,
He'll strike his foe, then feign a wound,
And fluttering run along the ground
A devious course, if so his feet
The keen pursuer's aim may cheat.
Who would not praise such blameless art,
Essay'd on fond affection's part?
'Tis nature's warning call to save
From harm the progeny she gave;
The voice of Providence, to prove
The value of parental love!
When from the subterranean den
In part appears the expected prey,
And drag it writhing to the day.
Hark to his cries! the ear they greet
With loud incessant call, “Pe-weet.”
And by the admiring eye is seen
With purple gloss'd his coat of green;
Bent upward with elastick spring
His darker crest; and flapping wing,
Which bears him swift away to shun
Suspected steps, half flight half run.
Poor bird! They say, his nestling brood
To skreen, if lurching dog intrude,
He'll strike his foe, then feign a wound,
And fluttering run along the ground
A devious course, if so his feet
The keen pursuer's aim may cheat.
Who would not praise such blameless art,
Essay'd on fond affection's part?
'Tis nature's warning call to save
From harm the progeny she gave;
The voice of Providence, to prove
The value of parental love!
There too perhaps, although more rare
While yet the groves their foliage wear,
For till the wintry months draw nigh,
He northward loves a cooler sky,
Recluse in Cumbria's humid fells,
Or Scotia's dank and rushy dells,
Or where o'er vale or mountain's head
Green Erin's heathery swamps are spread;
You'll hear remote the feeble pipe
Shrill sounding of the wakeful Snipe,
And catch receding from the view
His spots of black and rusty hue;
As starting from his reedy fen
He flies abrupt the approach of men,
And with quick wing and zigzag flight
Dazzles the unpractis'd fowler's sight.
What others tell, the Muse recites:
For, child of peace, she not delights
The fowler's fellowship to claim,
Nor deals she in the slaughterous game:
Content to take for needful food
The creatures, God pronounces good;
But not with blood her hands to stain,
And make a pastime of their pain!
While yet the groves their foliage wear,
For till the wintry months draw nigh,
He northward loves a cooler sky,
Recluse in Cumbria's humid fells,
Or Scotia's dank and rushy dells,
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Green Erin's heathery swamps are spread;
You'll hear remote the feeble pipe
Shrill sounding of the wakeful Snipe,
And catch receding from the view
His spots of black and rusty hue;
As starting from his reedy fen
He flies abrupt the approach of men,
And with quick wing and zigzag flight
Dazzles the unpractis'd fowler's sight.
What others tell, the Muse recites:
For, child of peace, she not delights
The fowler's fellowship to claim,
Nor deals she in the slaughterous game:
Content to take for needful food
The creatures, God pronounces good;
But not with blood her hands to stain,
And make a pastime of their pain!
There too the bird you'll haply find,
Of larger size, congenial kind,
Fresh from the Baltic's sounding shores,
Perchance from Scotland's hills and moors,
From Grampian heights and Moray's shades,
To sojourn in our southern glades.
The marsh his nightly haunt: the wood
Within its secret solitude,
Which on the kind their name bestows,
Supplies their place of day's repose,
Where moss-grown runnels oozing well
Through bosky glen or hollow dell.
There rest they, till the closing day
The signal gives to seek their prey,
Where the long worm and shrouded fly
Close in their marshy burrows lie:
Then issue forth by nature's power,
To banquet through the midnight hour,
Till the gray dawn their ardour daunt,
And warn them to their woodland haunt.
Mysterious pow'r! which guides by night
Through the dark wood the illumin'd sight;
Which prompts them by the unerring smell
The appointed prey's abode to tell,
Bore with long bill the investing mould,
And feel, and from the secret hold
Dislodge the reptile spoil! But who
Can look creation's volume through,
And not fresh proofs at every turn
Of the Creator's mind discern;
The end to which his actions tend;
The means adapted to the end;
The reasoning thought; the effective skill;
And, ruling all, the Almighty will?
Of larger size, congenial kind,
Fresh from the Baltic's sounding shores,
Perchance from Scotland's hills and moors,
From Grampian heights and Moray's shades,
To sojourn in our southern glades.
The marsh his nightly haunt: the wood
Within its secret solitude,
Which on the kind their name bestows,
Supplies their place of day's repose,
Where moss-grown runnels oozing well
Through bosky glen or hollow dell.
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The signal gives to seek their prey,
Where the long worm and shrouded fly
Close in their marshy burrows lie:
Then issue forth by nature's power,
To banquet through the midnight hour,
Till the gray dawn their ardour daunt,
And warn them to their woodland haunt.
Mysterious pow'r! which guides by night
Through the dark wood the illumin'd sight;
Which prompts them by the unerring smell
The appointed prey's abode to tell,
Bore with long bill the investing mould,
And feel, and from the secret hold
Dislodge the reptile spoil! But who
Can look creation's volume through,
And not fresh proofs at every turn
Of the Creator's mind discern;
The end to which his actions tend;
The means adapted to the end;
The reasoning thought; the effective skill;
And, ruling all, the Almighty will?
Wild Ducks, their order of flight. Annual migration. Beauty spot. Various species. Wild Geese. Various species. Their marshall'd flight. Goosanders, various species. Wild Swans, their difference from the mute or tame Swan
Signs upon signs of God abound!
On wings that mock the vollied storm,
High overhead in wedgelike form,
Or in the column's lengthen'd row,
More near earth's surface stooping low
Their pennons through the dusky night,
The Wild-ducks steer their annual flight.
From craggy cape, and winding creek,
And lonely mountain isles, that break
The ocean's broad expanse, that roars
Round Scandinavia's Boreal shores,
Disperst in many a rambling band
O'er southern marsh, and lake, and strand,
A numerous tribe alike they claim,
Each race distinct, the Wild-duck's name:
But each its proper marks assumes,
Shape, habits, haunts, and varied plumes;
Though on their varied plumes' array
Each with distinctive tints display,
Of all alike the common note,
A mirrour bright, a beauty spot,
And with metallick radiance fling
Effulgence from the burnish'd wing.
High overhead in wedgelike form,
Or in the column's lengthen'd row,
More near earth's surface stooping low
387
The Wild-ducks steer their annual flight.
From craggy cape, and winding creek,
And lonely mountain isles, that break
The ocean's broad expanse, that roars
Round Scandinavia's Boreal shores,
Disperst in many a rambling band
O'er southern marsh, and lake, and strand,
A numerous tribe alike they claim,
Each race distinct, the Wild-duck's name:
But each its proper marks assumes,
Shape, habits, haunts, and varied plumes;
Though on their varied plumes' array
Each with distinctive tints display,
Of all alike the common note,
A mirrour bright, a beauty spot,
And with metallick radiance fling
Effulgence from the burnish'd wing.
Whether the common Wild Drake show
His throat and breast's empurpled glow,
Mixt with the verdant tints that deck
His glossy head and wavy neck:
Or the loud Gadwall, scale on scale
O'erlaid, his coat of feathery mail:
Or Sheldrake's black green-tinctur'd head,
And gorget white and breastplate red:
Or Pochard's gray and mottled back,
With russet head and corslet black:
Or he that wears depending down
His purple neck a tufted crown:
Or whistling Wigeon, with inlay
Of undulations black and gray
Chequering his streak'd and dappled coat,
With cream-like head, and chestnut throat:
He of white cheeks and golden-eyed,
Of white and black alternate pied,
Matching the whistling Wigeon's cries:
Or he in garb of many dies,
Dark but with crescents white between,
Like hero of the magick scene,
Equipt the crowd's applause to win,
The parti-colour'd Harlequin:
Apt for his shelly food to rake
The oozy sludge the Spoonbill-Drake:
The broad-bill'd Shoveller's wing of blue:
With marks of green and yellow hue,
Whose light-brown breast dark spots aneal,
Least of his kind the clacking Teal:
Or he who head and breast and back
Clothes with a suit of velvet black:
Or he that suit of velvet dark
Who varies with a twofold mark,
White-spotted on the wing and cheek:
Or whom his lengthen'd plumes bespeak
Of all his kind most graceful, he
The Pintail, Pheasant of the sea:
Or he, with loud and clanging cry
Though rarely in our southern sky
Be spread his black and chestnut sail,
The Sheldrake of the swallow tail:
Or lothe his northern isles to quit,
Though by his pow'rs of motion fit
To take the fleetest, longest flight,
The Eider, who his plumage white
Of all that graze the ocean fields
The lightest, softest, warmest yields,
Profusely from the living breast
Pluck'd off to line the grassy nest;
Thence borne by oft repeated stealth
It forms the island plunderer's wealth,
Our artificial wants' supply;
And for the stately canopy
Means of voluptuous ease bestows,
The couch of indolent repose.
His throat and breast's empurpled glow,
Mixt with the verdant tints that deck
His glossy head and wavy neck:
Or the loud Gadwall, scale on scale
O'erlaid, his coat of feathery mail:
Or Sheldrake's black green-tinctur'd head,
And gorget white and breastplate red:
Or Pochard's gray and mottled back,
With russet head and corslet black:
Or he that wears depending down
His purple neck a tufted crown:
Or whistling Wigeon, with inlay
Of undulations black and gray
388
With cream-like head, and chestnut throat:
He of white cheeks and golden-eyed,
Of white and black alternate pied,
Matching the whistling Wigeon's cries:
Or he in garb of many dies,
Dark but with crescents white between,
Like hero of the magick scene,
Equipt the crowd's applause to win,
The parti-colour'd Harlequin:
Apt for his shelly food to rake
The oozy sludge the Spoonbill-Drake:
The broad-bill'd Shoveller's wing of blue:
With marks of green and yellow hue,
Whose light-brown breast dark spots aneal,
Least of his kind the clacking Teal:
Or he who head and breast and back
Clothes with a suit of velvet black:
Or he that suit of velvet dark
Who varies with a twofold mark,
White-spotted on the wing and cheek:
Or whom his lengthen'd plumes bespeak
Of all his kind most graceful, he
The Pintail, Pheasant of the sea:
Or he, with loud and clanging cry
Though rarely in our southern sky
Be spread his black and chestnut sail,
The Sheldrake of the swallow tail:
Or lothe his northern isles to quit,
Though by his pow'rs of motion fit
To take the fleetest, longest flight,
The Eider, who his plumage white
389
The lightest, softest, warmest yields,
Profusely from the living breast
Pluck'd off to line the grassy nest;
Thence borne by oft repeated stealth
It forms the island plunderer's wealth,
Our artificial wants' supply;
And for the stately canopy
Means of voluptuous ease bestows,
The couch of indolent repose.
So more or less of varied race
The Ducks their annual voyage trace,
In marshall'd ranks of wedge or line,
Obedient to the leader's sign.
The Ducks their annual voyage trace,
In marshall'd ranks of wedge or line,
Obedient to the leader's sign.
Alike in wedgelike ranks aloft,
The Geese with downy plumage soft,
Or in the long-drawn column's range,
As nature's dictate prompts the change,
Speed to the south on clanging pens
To winter in the marshy fens.
The Geese with downy plumage soft,
Or in the long-drawn column's range,
As nature's dictate prompts the change,
Speed to the south on clanging pens
To winter in the marshy fens.
The grey lag goose, which wing'd of old
The cloth-yard shaft of Bowyer bold,
Of docile manners mild, the base,
So reckon'd, of the household race,
Which graze around the farmer's home,
O'er stubble field and common roam;
But chief in eastern fens reside;
Broad Lincoln's treasure and her pride:
He on whose bill imprest is seen,
Thence named, the semblance of a Bean:
He who of white the double print
Bears on his neck, the dusky Brent:
He his white frontlet's shining mark
Who circles with a margin dark:
And whilome deem'd from sea-born shell
To drop full-fledg'd the Bernacle;
Distinct his mottled plumes' array
With crescent rims, black, white, and gra ;
All white his cheeks; with sable spread
His neck, and breast, and slender head.
The cloth-yard shaft of Bowyer bold,
Of docile manners mild, the base,
So reckon'd, of the household race,
Which graze around the farmer's home,
O'er stubble field and common roam;
But chief in eastern fens reside;
Broad Lincoln's treasure and her pride:
He on whose bill imprest is seen,
Thence named, the semblance of a Bean:
390
Bears on his neck, the dusky Brent:
He his white frontlet's shining mark
Who circles with a margin dark:
And whilome deem'd from sea-born shell
To drop full-fledg'd the Bernacle;
Distinct his mottled plumes' array
With crescent rims, black, white, and gra ;
All white his cheeks; with sable spread
His neck, and breast, and slender head.
Stragglers besides, but these the most,
Arrang'd in duly-marshall'd host,
In Arctick regions nurtur'd, thence
Now first their wintry flight commence,
In wedgelike troop right onward bear,
Or cleave with streaming file the air.
The careful leader's gathering cry,
Behind, the attentive train's reply,
Alternate, as they forward steer
Their rapid course, give mutual cheer.
Now too with sharp and sawlike bill
Arrang'd in duly-marshall'd host,
In Arctick regions nurtur'd, thence
Now first their wintry flight commence,
In wedgelike troop right onward bear,
Or cleave with streaming file the air.
The careful leader's gathering cry,
Behind, the attentive train's reply,
Alternate, as they forward steer
Their rapid course, give mutual cheer.
Cylindrical, the season chill
From their far dwellings in the north
Calls duly the Goosanders forth:
Apt on the salt deep's ooze to ride,
And swiftly o'er its surface glide;
More apt the yielding wave to rive,
Deep through the liquid chambers dive,
Then with long pause, and far away
Again the emerging tuft display:
391
Neck purpled green, and ruddy breast;
With breast of white the Diver dun;
And Fancy-liken'd to the nun
Of Carmel, though a jet-black hue
Inlay his white, the white-robed Smew.
From Iceland, where to horse and hound,
By moulting pinions to the ground
Confin'd, the else aspiring race
Yields objects for the August chase,
The prize of downy plumes to win;
And thence transferr'd the fleece-like skin
Man's frame with grateful warmth arrays:
From wild Kamschatka's cliffs and bays,
From Lapland snows, and Norway lakes,
The Swan his airy voyage takes:
Unlike his kindred birds, whose mien
Majestick decks this inland scene,
Content with bounded sway to rule
The precincts of their rushy pool,
And row with arched neck sedate
Their silent and sequester'd state;
Nor sound to break that silence still
Is echoed from their shallow bill.
But less of form, more light of wing,
These high with flight aspiring spring.
The whistle strong, and deep-drawn whoop,
Tell to the ear the passing troop;
While from their proud aërial height
The plumes, as falling snow-flakes white,
392
The sharp ken of the straining eye.
Gulls, visit inland parts, associate with rooks. The Hooded Crow, confined to the north in the summer; the only Crow there known. Associates with others in the south. Such peculiarities inexplicable. The Ring-Ousel. A passenger in the south of England. Its passage first noticed by White. Not accounted for. Wisdom of a Naturalist
But, wheeling low with swooping flight,
Flaps his long wings the loud Sea-mew!
His back and sides of ashen hue,
And wings of fleecy brightness gleam
Slow waving in the sunny beam.
Of all the tribes of ocean none
Less prompt the haunts of men to shun:
None more alert in frequent flocks
At winter's call their cavern'd rocks
To quit, and from the sea-wash'd shore
Fly inland: there to hover o'er
Freshet, or stream, or running brook,
The trout's lov'd haunt; or with the rook
The new-turn'd furrow's banquet share,
Nor for their native billows care.
Nor wants there now in strange array
Accoutred, with his mantle gray
Thrown o'er his shoulders, breast, and back,
The rest attir'd in speckless black,
Head, wings, and tail, and legs below,
Thence fitly styl'd, the Hooded Crow.
In Britain's southern fields unknown
Through summer months, he makes his own
Frequented by his native flocks,
Erin's and Scotia's northern rocks,
And Hebrid isles remote; but most,
Detach'd from Scotia's mainland coast,
Where northward far the ocean foams
Round Shetland's isles, and Orkney's holms.
Accoutred, with his mantle gray
Thrown o'er his shoulders, breast, and back,
The rest attir'd in speckless black,
Head, wings, and tail, and legs below,
Thence fitly styl'd, the Hooded Crow.
In Britain's southern fields unknown
Through summer months, he makes his own
Frequented by his native flocks,
Erin's and Scotia's northern rocks,
393
Detach'd from Scotia's mainland coast,
Where northward far the ocean foams
Round Shetland's isles, and Orkney's holms.
There beyond all his kind, the name
That marks his kind 'tis his to claim:
There, beyond all his brethren known,
The Crow's the Hooded Crow alone:
There his abode he holds; and there
In nuptial league each wedded pair,
(Such league is theirs,) on rock or tree
Attend their nestling progeny:
Their home the sea-wash'd shore; their food
The refuse of the salt sea flood,
Won from the inmates of the deep,
Or done to death the sickly sheep.
But now to other haunts they roam,
Make of our south their wintry home,
And with their brethren's distant bands
Expatiate o'er the fields and sands,
Like friars of orders black and grey,
Expectant of their helpless prey.
That marks his kind 'tis his to claim:
There, beyond all his brethren known,
The Crow's the Hooded Crow alone:
There his abode he holds; and there
In nuptial league each wedded pair,
(Such league is theirs,) on rock or tree
Attend their nestling progeny:
Their home the sea-wash'd shore; their food
The refuse of the salt sea flood,
Won from the inmates of the deep,
Or done to death the sickly sheep.
But now to other haunts they roam,
Make of our south their wintry home,
And with their brethren's distant bands
Expatiate o'er the fields and sands,
Like friars of orders black and grey,
Expectant of their helpless prey.
Facts such as these our senses know.
But why alone the Hooded Crow
Of all his kindred tribe should flock
In April to the northern rock:
Or why of all his kindred race
Alone the Hooded Crow should trace
His passage on October gales
To southern shores and southern vales;
And with his sable brethren share
Like habits, dwelling-place, and fare:
'Tis what the philosophick mind
May yearn to know, but fail to find.
'Tis like the writing on the wall
In King Belshazzar's festal hall ;
In nature's cord a tangled “knot ;”
That he, though wise, who made it not,
May strive, but strive in vain, to spell
The meaning of that miracle.
But why alone the Hooded Crow
Of all his kindred tribe should flock
In April to the northern rock:
Or why of all his kindred race
Alone the Hooded Crow should trace
His passage on October gales
To southern shores and southern vales;
And with his sable brethren share
Like habits, dwelling-place, and fare:
394
May yearn to know, but fail to find.
'Tis like the writing on the wall
In King Belshazzar's festal hall ;
In nature's cord a tangled “knot ;”
That he, though wise, who made it not,
May strive, but strive in vain, to spell
The meaning of that miracle.
He too the Thrush, who bears imprest
The silver crescent on his breast,
His plumes beside of sable bright
Stamp'd with that curve of silvery white:—
Why, while our inmates through the year
The Throstle and the Blackbird near
Our homesteads still preserve their home,
Nor e'er from southern England roam;
Their brother of the crescent white,
Why does he thither wing his flight
But with the breath of vernal air;
Nor linger, but forthwith repair
To Cornwall's moors, and Devon's vales,
The heaths and rocks of rugged Wales,
To Derby's tors abrupt, that shroud
Their summit in the misty cloud,
To Erin's mountain glens and rills,
To Ayrshire streams, and Grampian hills?
Now in October's fading day
Why does he thither wing his way,
Again with rapid glance explore
His path by southern England's shore,
Nor linger, but forthwith advance
O'er the salt strait to adverse France;
And leave the brethren of his kind,
The Black-bird and the Thrush behind,
Without his social aid to cheer
The later as the earlier year?
The silver crescent on his breast,
His plumes beside of sable bright
Stamp'd with that curve of silvery white:—
Why, while our inmates through the year
The Throstle and the Blackbird near
Our homesteads still preserve their home,
Nor e'er from southern England roam;
Their brother of the crescent white,
Why does he thither wing his flight
But with the breath of vernal air;
Nor linger, but forthwith repair
To Cornwall's moors, and Devon's vales,
The heaths and rocks of rugged Wales,
To Derby's tors abrupt, that shroud
Their summit in the misty cloud,
To Erin's mountain glens and rills,
To Ayrshire streams, and Grampian hills?
Now in October's fading day
Why does he thither wing his way,
Again with rapid glance explore
His path by southern England's shore,
395
O'er the salt strait to adverse France;
And leave the brethren of his kind,
The Black-bird and the Thrush behind,
Without his social aid to cheer
The later as the earlier year?
'Twas thine the first, observant White,
The ring-neck'd Ousel's passing flight,
As to and fro at seasons due
O'er Selborne's hanging woods he flew,
To note, as rul'd by certain laws,
But leave untold the mediate cause:
Sagacious with regardful eyes
All nature's works to scrutinise;
Too wise, the counsels to decide,
Which o'er all nature's works preside:
Contented oft the darkness thrown
About thy mental sight to own,
And much to His high will refer,
Whose hands creation's sceptre bear!
The ring-neck'd Ousel's passing flight,
As to and fro at seasons due
O'er Selborne's hanging woods he flew,
To note, as rul'd by certain laws,
But leave untold the mediate cause:
Sagacious with regardful eyes
All nature's works to scrutinise;
Too wise, the counsels to decide,
Which o'er all nature's works preside:
Contented oft the darkness thrown
About thy mental sight to own,
And much to His high will refer,
Whose hands creation's sceptre bear!
The Lake. Herons. Supposed Sentinel. Interchange of residence. Wonderful instinct of migratory birds. Wisdom and Goodness of the Creator. A lesson for man
What bird about that wooded isle
With pendent feet, and pinions slow,
Is seen his ponderous length to row?
'Tis the tall Heron's awkward flight,
His crest of black, and neck of white,
Far sunk his gray blue wings between,
And giant legs of murky green.
His tribe is seaward far away:
And he remains, as peasants say,
396
On guard, a faithful sentinel:
Till spring again with genial smile
Recall them to their native isle,
On their lov'd oaks' wide spreading crown
Aloft to build their close-set town,
Their brood to hatch, their younglings rear;
Then monish'd hence as now to steer
Far off their migrato y way,
For richer floods and ampler prey.
So without words by secret sign
Speaks to their sense the voice divine!
For these we see, for thousands more
Who skim the wave, or pace the shore,
Who to and fro alternate range,
And in due season interchange
The north and south, the sea and land,
The freshet and the briny strand,
Now bent to catch their finny food,
Now careful for their future brood,
Intent a safer home to share,
Or breathe a more congenial air;
And still from each migration find
The succour suited to their kind:
What foresight for their wants provides!
What counsel o'er their plans presides!
What sense instinctive, more than art
Or reason, can the pow'r impart,
To calculate the appointed time,
Far off to know the destin'd clime,
When from their haunts to flee, and where
Seek refuge through the pathless air!
Who skim the wave, or pace the shore,
Who to and fro alternate range,
And in due season interchange
The north and south, the sea and land,
The freshet and the briny strand,
Now bent to catch their finny food,
Now careful for their future brood,
Intent a safer home to share,
Or breathe a more congenial air;
And still from each migration find
The succour suited to their kind:
What foresight for their wants provides!
What counsel o'er their plans presides!
What sense instinctive, more than art
Or reason, can the pow'r impart,
To calculate the appointed time,
Far off to know the destin'd clime,
397
Seek refuge through the pathless air!
O Wisdom, Goodness infinite!
Whose works are precious in thy sight;
Who mad'st, and who dost care for all!
To thee thy living creatures call:
Though speechless be the call, thy hand
Thou deign'st in bounty to expand,
Their sufferings feel, their wants redress,
And fill them all with plenteousness!
They take the course thy will ordains.
O, where that will conspicuous reigns,
Obedient as the watchful bird,
Be mine to mark thy heavenly word:
Like him to follow where thou guid'st;
Like him to take what thou provid'st;
On thee with reason's voice withal,
Passing his speechless cry, to call;
Take, where thou wilt, my fit abode,
And trust for succour to my God!
Whose works are precious in thy sight;
Who mad'st, and who dost care for all!
To thee thy living creatures call:
Though speechless be the call, thy hand
Thou deign'st in bounty to expand,
Their sufferings feel, their wants redress,
And fill them all with plenteousness!
They take the course thy will ordains.
O, where that will conspicuous reigns,
Obedient as the watchful bird,
Be mine to mark thy heavenly word:
Like him to follow where thou guid'st;
Like him to take what thou provid'st;
On thee with reason's voice withal,
Passing his speechless cry, to call;
Take, where thou wilt, my fit abode,
And trust for succour to my God!
Domesticated Wild Ducks. Gallinule or Moor Hen. Different habits of birds. The Tippet Grebe carrying her young. Inhumanity deprecated. The bald Coot. Fish rising. The landscape in the water. The many-coloured wood. The falling leaves. Absence of flowers. Mushrooms. Impending rain. Life like an October day. Happiness of contemplating nature
As near we draw, the Mallards spring.
Wild, but domesticated here
On the calm lake their brood they rear,
Well-pleas'd no more afar to stray,
And seek again their Arctick way.
Yet lose they not, with change of place,
The wildness of their pristine race:
So up, on hurried wing they start,
And forward like the whizzing dart,
398
With outstretch'd neck, and noisy scream.
With silent flight across the pool
On wing and foot the Gallinule
For safety flits to lowly bush,
Or lurks within the sheltering rush.
Thus nature prompts diverging ways!
Some soar, expos'd to publick gaze:
More safe to others, as more sweet,
The secret path, the close retreat!
Unus'd aloft to soar, but fleet
With oarage of the handlike feet,
Most apt the liquid mass to strike
With powerful stroke, direct, oblique,
See, where across the lake she rows
Her crested form; and, as she goes,
Full of maternal fears and cares,
Lodg'd on her back her nestlings bears,
The female Grebe! Her glossy breast
Sleek plumes of sattiny white invest,
Wave-proof: and hangs her shoulders down,
Down back and wings, of dusky brown
A mantling tippet. Ah, forbear,
Nor with intent remorseless dare,
Thou who with gun and gun-craft tried
Creep'st cautious by the water side,
Dare not, while thus engag'd, with rude
Assault to sever from her brood,
And kill, or worse, disabled maim,
Charg'd with her young, the anxious dam!—
'Tis vain! The deadly shot is sped:
And on the pool the dam outspread
Floats lifeless! From her shoulders flung
In the death-throe, the orphan young
Disperse, and seek, as best they can,
Refuge from persecuting man!
With oarage of the handlike feet,
Most apt the liquid mass to strike
With powerful stroke, direct, oblique,
See, where across the lake she rows
Her crested form; and, as she goes,
Full of maternal fears and cares,
Lodg'd on her back her nestlings bears,
The female Grebe! Her glossy breast
Sleek plumes of sattiny white invest,
Wave-proof: and hangs her shoulders down,
Down back and wings, of dusky brown
A mantling tippet. Ah, forbear,
Nor with intent remorseless dare,
Thou who with gun and gun-craft tried
Creep'st cautious by the water side,
Dare not, while thus engag'd, with rude
Assault to sever from her brood,
And kill, or worse, disabled maim,
Charg'd with her young, the anxious dam!—
399
And on the pool the dam outspread
Floats lifeless! From her shoulders flung
In the death-throe, the orphan young
Disperse, and seek, as best they can,
Refuge from persecuting man!
Believing beast and fowl decreed
By heav'n in man's behoof to bleed,
The Muse nice feelings o'er-refin'd
Affects not; but to duties kind
Alive, the sympathetick heart
Mourns with involuntary start
Thus rent affection's tender pledge,
And holds such death a sacrilege!
By heav'n in man's behoof to bleed,
The Muse nice feelings o'er-refin'd
Affects not; but to duties kind
Alive, the sympathetick heart
Mourns with involuntary start
Thus rent affection's tender pledge,
And holds such death a sacrilege!
And lo! where dives the hungry Coot.
I know him by his sable suit,
Streak'd with the pinion's border white,
And o'er his bill the frontlet bright.
Again he dives: you well might know,
There's store of finny prey below,
Ev'n heard you not the frequent dash
Break the still lake with sudden plash;
What time emerging from the deep,
The fish with spring elastick leap;
Nor saw the rippling motion pass
In circles o'er the wavy glass.
The wavy glass is smooth again:
And mark! nor wrinkle now, nor stain,
Disturbs the crystal mirrour's face;
Where in illusive traits we trace
Complete, as limner's brush can show,
The sunbright sky's cerulean glow.
The margin, that the waters lave,
The flags, that on the margin wave,
The sheep and cows and pastures green,
And circling hills are pictur'd seen.
Seen is the hill's o'ershadowing pride
In all its tints diversified,
Which autumn's glowing touch indues
With richest robe of thousand hues.
Alas! Those thousand hues declare
Corruption's work is busy there;
Forerunners they of winter's gloom,
A victim garnish'd for the tomb!
I know him by his sable suit,
Streak'd with the pinion's border white,
And o'er his bill the frontlet bright.
Again he dives: you well might know,
There's store of finny prey below,
Ev'n heard you not the frequent dash
Break the still lake with sudden plash;
What time emerging from the deep,
The fish with spring elastick leap;
Nor saw the rippling motion pass
In circles o'er the wavy glass.
The wavy glass is smooth again:
And mark! nor wrinkle now, nor stain,
Disturbs the crystal mirrour's face;
Where in illusive traits we trace
400
The sunbright sky's cerulean glow.
The margin, that the waters lave,
The flags, that on the margin wave,
The sheep and cows and pastures green,
And circling hills are pictur'd seen.
Seen is the hill's o'ershadowing pride
In all its tints diversified,
Which autumn's glowing touch indues
With richest robe of thousand hues.
Alas! Those thousand hues declare
Corruption's work is busy there;
Forerunners they of winter's gloom,
A victim garnish'd for the tomb!
Too true, too true! For as we tread
The woodland path, behold, o'erspread
With leaves is all the slippery way,
Unseen consumption's early prey.
Nor flow'r is left to glad the sight,
Save that its streaks of pink and white
The Cranesbill here and there displays:
And Mushrooms spread their gill-like rays,
Dispersing wide the powdery seed;
Past by the crowd w th little heed,
While curious eyes admiring view
Their structure, and their varied hue,
Or red, or yellow, white or brown,
The clublike stem, the pent-house crown.
No mine through nature's broad domain,
But yields, when wrought, a precious vein.
The woodland path, behold, o'erspread
With leaves is all the slippery way,
Unseen consumption's early prey.
Nor flow'r is left to glad the sight,
Save that its streaks of pink and white
The Cranesbill here and there displays:
And Mushrooms spread their gill-like rays,
Dispersing wide the powdery seed;
Past by the crowd w th little heed,
While curious eyes admiring view
Their structure, and their varied hue,
Or red, or yellow, white or brown,
The clublike stem, the pent-house crown.
No mine through nature's broad domain,
But yields, when wrought, a precious vein.
But these are losing now apace,
The year's last boast, their short-liv'd grace!
Aside the club-like pillars stoop,
And with contracted fibres droop:
The pent-house crowns so smooth present
Comprest, indented, upward bent
A shrivell'd disk, a jagged rim:
And clouded colours, dark and dim,
Succeeding to the early glow
Of transitory brilliance, show,
These symptoms of the year's decay
Themselves are melting fast away.
As the bright locks of silver, shed
Presageful on the aged head,
Receding soon their covering spare
Change for a surface bald and bare.
The year's last boast, their short-liv'd grace!
401
And with contracted fibres droop:
The pent-house crowns so smooth present
Comprest, indented, upward bent
A shrivell'd disk, a jagged rim:
And clouded colours, dark and dim,
Succeeding to the early glow
Of transitory brilliance, show,
These symptoms of the year's decay
Themselves are melting fast away.
As the bright locks of silver, shed
Presageful on the aged head,
Receding soon their covering spare
Change for a surface bald and bare.
Still ruin speeds. Ev'n now a blast
Has o'er the lingering foliage past,
And round our steps the forest pours
Its gorgeous dress in frequent showers:
As full and frequent as the rain,
Which threatens soon to fall amain,
And with a veil the landscape shroud,
Impervious as the morning cloud.
Such oft is Life's brief day! At first
'Tis wrapt in gloom: but, that disperst,
All radiant doth its noontide shine:
In gloom its evening hours decline.
O for those days, from morn till night
When all is gladness, all is light!
Has o'er the lingering foliage past,
And round our steps the forest pours
Its gorgeous dress in frequent showers:
As full and frequent as the rain,
Which threatens soon to fall amain,
And with a veil the landscape shroud,
Impervious as the morning cloud.
Such oft is Life's brief day! At first
'Tis wrapt in gloom: but, that disperst,
All radiant doth its noontide shine:
In gloom its evening hours decline.
O for those days, from morn till night
When all is gladness, all is light!
Enough! Behoves we homeward haste,
Content and grateful to have past
Not pleasureless, throughout our way,
Nor useless, this October day.
Blest, who can soften care, or find
Employment for the vacant mind,
In nature's scenes! Thrice blest is he,
Who forward casts his eyes to see,
In all that through the waters move,
In earth beneath and heaven above,
The sovereign Power, who nature made,
The Author in his works display'd:
And, as before the temple shrine
In vision came the voice divine
To youthful Samuel's nightly ear;
Hears, rapt in thought, or seems to hear,
Though void of language and of speech,
God's voice from all creation preach!
Content and grateful to have past
402
Nor useless, this October day.
Blest, who can soften care, or find
Employment for the vacant mind,
In nature's scenes! Thrice blest is he,
Who forward casts his eyes to see,
In all that through the waters move,
In earth beneath and heaven above,
The sovereign Power, who nature made,
The Author in his works display'd:
And, as before the temple shrine
In vision came the voice divine
To youthful Samuel's nightly ear;
Hears, rapt in thought, or seems to hear,
Though void of language and of speech,
God's voice from all creation preach!
Then does the faithful duteous heart
Take up the listening Samuel's part,
Full fain to hear his Maker speak:
And with submissive spirit meek
Pursues the future prophet's strain,
Invokes the warning voice again,
Owns the blest sign, howe'er conferr'd,
And welcomes thus the heavenly word .”
Take up the listening Samuel's part,
Full fain to hear his Maker speak:
And with submissive spirit meek
Pursues the future prophet's strain,
Invokes the warning voice again,
Owns the blest sign, howe'er conferr'd,
And welcomes thus the heavenly word .”
“Speak, Lord, thy servant heareth”
“Speak, for thy servant heareth, Lord!”—How vaired are the ways,
Whereby thy wisdom, O my God, the truth to man conveys.
'Tis thine to make thy will be known by many a speaking sign:
Thy will, howe'er reveal'd, to heed with answering heart be mine!
Whereby thy wisdom, O my God, the truth to man conveys.
403
Thy will, howe'er reveal'd, to heed with answering heart be mine!
Thou speakest in creation's works! Where'er I gaze abroad,
In nature's miracles I hear the voice of nature's God:
I hear thy voice of bounteousness breath'd in the silent shower,
And in the awful thunder storm I hear thy voice of power.
In nature's miracles I hear the voice of nature's God:
I hear thy voice of bounteousness breath'd in the silent shower,
And in the awful thunder storm I hear thy voice of power.
Thou speakest in this chequer'd scene of human joys and woes,
Where restlessness is twin to guilt, to holiness repose:
And oft though clouds of mystery perplex my feeble sight,
I hear thee say that Thou art good, and all will yet be bright.
Where restlessness is twin to guilt, to holiness repose:
And oft though clouds of mystery perplex my feeble sight,
I hear thee say that Thou art good, and all will yet be bright.
Thou speakest in thy book! With words man's eloquence above,
I hear Thee of affection tell, surpassing woman's love:
Of sinners from destruction saved, of blood in ransom given,
Of faith by charity matured, and hope that rests in heaven.
I hear Thee of affection tell, surpassing woman's love:
Of sinners from destruction saved, of blood in ransom given,
Of faith by charity matured, and hope that rests in heaven.
404
Thou speakest in the secret heart! 'Mid vice and folly's din
The whisper of the still small voice I hear my breast within.
And when my feet would turn aside, I hear my guardian say,
Right onward for the narrow gate, right onward hold the way.
The whisper of the still small voice I hear my breast within.
And when my feet would turn aside, I hear my guardian say,
Right onward for the narrow gate, right onward hold the way.
“Speak, Lord; thy servant heareth Thee!”—Nor sound I crave, nor sight,
Which rapt thy chosen seers of old in visions of the night.
But to my watchful eye be still Thy works, Thy word, display'd,
With Thy vicegerent in my breast, inform'd by Thee, to aid:
Which rapt thy chosen seers of old in visions of the night.
But to my watchful eye be still Thy works, Thy word, display'd,
With Thy vicegerent in my breast, inform'd by Thee, to aid:
And when by conscience' inward voice Thou wouldest, Lord, be heard,
Or by Thy works of providence, or by Thy living word:
From earth's obstructions purify my not-unwilling ear,
And grant that what Thou speakest thus, Thy servant's soul may hear!
Or by Thy works of providence, or by Thy living word:
From earth's obstructions purify my not-unwilling ear,
And grant that what Thou speakest thus, Thy servant's soul may hear!
407
NOVEMBER.
Dulness and uncertainty of the weather. The Garden Walk. The Garden
Enveloped in a murky cloud,
With tearful eyes and wailings loud,
November takes his sullen road,
Thick with the forest's honours strow'd;
A wither'd woodbine decks his brow,
His hand a sapless oaken bough.
With tearful eyes and wailings loud,
November takes his sullen road,
Thick with the forest's honours strow'd;
A wither'd woodbine decks his brow,
His hand a sapless oaken bough.
The darken'd day's impatient flight,
The o'erhanging storms, the approach of night,
Warn us with heedful eye to watch
The hours' precarious course, and catch,
As best we may, the favouring time
For action in our watery clime.
The o'erhanging storms, the approach of night,
Warn us with heedful eye to watch
The hours' precarious course, and catch,
As best we may, the favouring time
For action in our watery clime.
It likes me well, this garden walk
!
No, gloomy month, thou shalt not balk
My thirst for exercise and air,
Long as thy rains in kindness spare
The velvet of the terraced mound,
The shelter'd garden's western bound.
No, gloomy month, thou shalt not balk
My thirst for exercise and air,
Long as thy rains in kindness spare
The velvet of the terraced mound,
The shelter'd garden's western bound.
Above my head, a double row,
Tall elms their arms o'erarching throw
With pinetrees mixed; for pleasure made,
And use, a rural colonnade;
Where in amusive pastime join'd,
The social may with social mind
Converse; or rapt in thought, alone
The pensive commune with his own.
Tall elms their arms o'erarching throw
With pinetrees mixed; for pleasure made,
And use, a rural colonnade;
Where in amusive pastime join'd,
The social may with social mind
408
The pensive commune with his own.
A coppice northward shuts the scene:
Bright laurels skirt with eastern skreen
The well-trod moss; and down the hill,
Few paces off, a babbling rill
Its course the hollow banks between
Holds onward, rather heard than seen.
Beyond the fence, abruptly bank'd,
With moss and gadding ivy prank'd,
Aloft a mountain on the west,
Steep, and with hanging umbrage drest,
Lifts from the lawn its swelling form,
A safeguard from the seaward storm.
Bright to the midday sun alone
The distant view is open thrown,
Where the pleas'd eye may roam at will
O'er stream and meadow, vale and hill.
So here my pleasant path I choose,
And gaze and listen, pause and muse.
Bright laurels skirt with eastern skreen
The well-trod moss; and down the hill,
Few paces off, a babbling rill
Its course the hollow banks between
Holds onward, rather heard than seen.
Beyond the fence, abruptly bank'd,
With moss and gadding ivy prank'd,
Aloft a mountain on the west,
Steep, and with hanging umbrage drest,
Lifts from the lawn its swelling form,
A safeguard from the seaward storm.
Bright to the midday sun alone
The distant view is open thrown,
Where the pleas'd eye may roam at will
O'er stream and meadow, vale and hill.
So here my pleasant path I choose,
And gaze and listen, pause and muse.
Quick and complete change of the landscape. The past month's effect on the woods. Trees stript of their leaves. The Ash, Sycamore, Poplar, Spanish Chestnut. Probably indigenous in England. London. Westminster Hall. Kent. The Great Tortworth Chestnut. Horse Chestnut. Their fruits. Fruit of the Chestnut in southern countries
Throughout the year's still varying range
More swift, more mark'd, more perfect change
Stamps not the landscape's alter'd face;
Than now the eyes regretful trace
From mid October's noontides clear,
To dull November dark and drear;
From Autumn's many-colour'd dress,
To first-born Winter's nakedness.
Tho' quick the change that flings a robe
Of verdure o'er the vernal globe,
And in the desert bids arise
Delicious Eden's paradise:
More quick meseems is wav'd the wand
Of desolation o'er the land,
And, where fair Eden's garden smil'd,
Behind it leaves a dreary wild.
More swift, more mark'd, more perfect change
Stamps not the landscape's alter'd face;
Than now the eyes regretful trace
From mid October's noontides clear,
To dull November dark and drear;
From Autumn's many-colour'd dress,
To first-born Winter's nakedness.
Tho' quick the change that flings a robe
Of verdure o'er the vernal globe,
409
Delicious Eden's paradise:
More quick meseems is wav'd the wand
Of desolation o'er the land,
And, where fair Eden's garden smil'd,
Behind it leaves a dreary wild.
When last the moon with aspect dim
Show'd o'er yon hill her silver rim,
No tree in all the hanging wood,
But rob'd in glossy vesture stood.
And when she fill'd her circle bright,
And rose above the wood-crown'd height,
Still not a tree, that caught her beam,
But cast it back with richer gleam.
Again her silver rim is seen,
But glancing thro' that scanty skreen;—
And, when her full-orb'd face is shown,
'Twill light on leafless boughs alone.
Show'd o'er yon hill her silver rim,
No tree in all the hanging wood,
But rob'd in glossy vesture stood.
And when she fill'd her circle bright,
And rose above the wood-crown'd height,
Still not a tree, that caught her beam,
But cast it back with richer gleam.
Again her silver rim is seen,
But glancing thro' that scanty skreen;—
And, when her full-orb'd face is shown,
'Twill light on leafless boughs alone.
See, where he stands, who round him flung
His arms with winged foliage hung,
The smooth-stem'd Ash! From branch and spray
Those winged leaves are flown away;
And nought remains to speak his pride,
Save that at hand his beauteous bride
Still on her key-like bunches shows
The pendent seed in dusky rows,
While from her frame is torn apace
Hers, with her partner's verdant grace.
Together in one fate conjoin'd,
Thus sons and daughters of mankind
Have joy'd in fortune's sunny hour,
And droop beneath bereavement's pow'r!
His arms with winged foliage hung,
The smooth-stem'd Ash! From branch and spray
Those winged leaves are flown away;
And nought remains to speak his pride,
Save that at hand his beauteous bride
Still on her key-like bunches shows
The pendent seed in dusky rows,
While from her frame is torn apace
Hers, with her partner's verdant grace.
Together in one fate conjoin'd,
Thus sons and daughters of mankind
410
And droop beneath bereavement's pow'r!
And he, who late his honours bore,
Tho' blotch'd and blurr'd, the Sycamore,
Stands bare with branches far outspread:
And bare her tall and slender head
With upright shoots the Poplar rears,
Of growth mature, a child in years.
Nor this her shapely form and fair,
Nor that his more majestick air,
Aids to escape the common fall
By nature's laws decreed for all.
Tho' blotch'd and blurr'd, the Sycamore,
Stands bare with branches far outspread:
And bare her tall and slender head
With upright shoots the Poplar rears,
Of growth mature, a child in years.
Nor this her shapely form and fair,
Nor that his more majestick air,
Aids to escape the common fall
By nature's laws decreed for all.
Bare is the tree that Spain sends forth
To grace our less congenial north,
If Spain indeed of right pretend
That goodly denizen to send.
Unless with some more sage you hold
That in our Britain's woods of old
Freeborn the stately Chestnut grew;
Whence a rich store our fathers drew
The spacious barn to raise, or crown,
In castled fort or towered town,
With open-rafter'd roof the wall
Of hallow'd church or scutcheon'd hall.
To grace our less congenial north,
If Spain indeed of right pretend
That goodly denizen to send.
Unless with some more sage you hold
That in our Britain's woods of old
Freeborn the stately Chestnut grew;
Whence a rich store our fathers drew
The spacious barn to raise, or crown,
In castled fort or towered town,
With open-rafter'd roof the wall
Of hallow'd church or scutcheon'd hall.
Hence London saw of antique guise
Her fram'd and panell'd dwellings rise,
Stage above stage, projecting more
And more each fresh successive floor.
Hence thou beheld'st thy palace rear
Its hall, imperial Westminster,
Scene of the gorgeous Richard s feasts;
Where o'er ten thousand Christmas guests
Unnumber'd cressets blaz'd aloof,
Dependent from the high-arch'd roof.
Hence did our English woods present,
But most the wavy hills of Kent,
Gerard, to thy admiring sight
The Chestnut's bulk and towering height.
Hence lately stood, or haply stands
Ev'n now in Tortworth's lordly lands,
And stood in bygone days of yore,
(What time the English bowmen bore
The keen assault of Norman knights,)
The landmark of manorial rights,
Proud of his Saxon ancestry,
And stature great, the Chestnut tree;
Nor through broad England's woods for age
With that can all her sons engage.
Her fram'd and panell'd dwellings rise,
Stage above stage, projecting more
And more each fresh successive floor.
Hence thou beheld'st thy palace rear
Its hall, imperial Westminster,
Scene of the gorgeous Richard s feasts;
Where o'er ten thousand Christmas guests
411
Dependent from the high-arch'd roof.
Hence did our English woods present,
But most the wavy hills of Kent,
Gerard, to thy admiring sight
The Chestnut's bulk and towering height.
Hence lately stood, or haply stands
Ev'n now in Tortworth's lordly lands,
And stood in bygone days of yore,
(What time the English bowmen bore
The keen assault of Norman knights,)
The landmark of manorial rights,
Proud of his Saxon ancestry,
And stature great, the Chestnut tree;
Nor through broad England's woods for age
With that can all her sons engage.
Howe'er it be, if British-born
Our parks his feathering leaves adorn,
Or but with growth adoptive rise;
Bare is the Chestnut's stately size
Dismantled of his summer grace:
And bare, of oriental race
Is he, who proudly dares to claim
Of alien stock a rival name,
But rival none in pleasant fruit:
Tho' still around the well-graz'd root
Of each, the finger'd leaves among,
The ground their prickly seed coats throng.
This prompt to yield from twofold chest
Its globes in white and russet drest,
Priz'd for its fancied worth to feed
And heal the breath-afflicted steed:
That its four valves unfolding wide
Where seemly order'd, side by side,
With bristly hair, and heron-neck'd,
Its triple seeds are fix'd erect.
Our parks his feathering leaves adorn,
Or but with growth adoptive rise;
Bare is the Chestnut's stately size
Dismantled of his summer grace:
And bare, of oriental race
Is he, who proudly dares to claim
Of alien stock a rival name,
But rival none in pleasant fruit:
Tho' still around the well-graz'd root
Of each, the finger'd leaves among,
The ground their prickly seed coats throng.
This prompt to yield from twofold chest
Its globes in white and russet drest,
Priz'd for its fancied worth to feed
And heal the breath-afflicted steed:
412
Where seemly order'd, side by side,
With bristly hair, and heron-neck'd,
Its triple seeds are fix'd erect.
More priz'd the fruit the pilgrim sees
Borne on the wood-wav'd Pyrenees:
More priz'd, where southern sunbeams shine
On thee, Italian Apennine:
Or where, Sicilian Ætna's boast,
Grows the fam'd tree, itself a host,
Beneath whose wide embowering wood
A hundred mounted knights have stood.
Borne on the wood-wav'd Pyrenees:
More priz'd, where southern sunbeams shine
On thee, Italian Apennine:
Or where, Sicilian Ætna's boast,
Grows the fam'd tree, itself a host,
Beneath whose wide embowering wood
A hundred mounted knights have stood.
The Beech, tenacity of its leaves. Trees in progress of shedding their leaves. The Birch. The Alder. The Willow, a handsome tree in Ireland. The Weeping Willow. The Elm. The Oak.
There welcome to the peasant's shed
The Chestnut thrives, his daily bread:
Degenerate here, and shrunk, and small,
Resembling more the mast that fall
From you bright Beech, congenerous tree;
Where fondly lingering still we see,
As loth the parent stock to leave,
Tho' chang'd, the clustering foliage cleave.
There cling they still; and there shall cling,
Till a new race successive spring,
Their hold relax, their room supply,
Like them in turn to fade and die,
Like them in turn to yield their place,
Supplanted by a livelier race.
And thus the ranks of human kind
Fill like the leaves their place assign'd:
The post the bygone race had held,
Another holds; till, thence propell'd,
It yields before the next, that all
May rise in turn, in turn may fall.
O, like thy leaves might all fulfil,
Fair tree, their sovereign Maker's will!
The Chestnut thrives, his daily bread:
Degenerate here, and shrunk, and small,
Resembling more the mast that fall
From you bright Beech, congenerous tree;
Where fondly lingering still we see,
As loth the parent stock to leave,
Tho' chang'd, the clustering foliage cleave.
There cling they still; and there shall cling,
Till a new race successive spring,
Their hold relax, their room supply,
Like them in turn to fade and die,
Like them in turn to yield their place,
Supplanted by a livelier race.
And thus the ranks of human kind
Fill like the leaves their place assign'd:
The post the bygone race had held,
Another holds; till, thence propell'd,
413
May rise in turn, in turn may fall.
O, like thy leaves might all fulfil,
Fair tree, their sovereign Maker's will!
Nor yet, her airy branches left
Of all their slender foliage reft,
Bare is the birch with silver bark:
Nor bare the kindred alder dark,
With signs of future blossoms hung
The remnants of the past among:
Amid disaster's ruin bare
Germs of sweet hope and promise fair!
Of all their slender foliage reft,
Bare is the birch with silver bark:
Nor bare the kindred alder dark,
With signs of future blossoms hung
The remnants of the past among:
Amid disaster's ruin bare
Germs of sweet hope and promise fair!
Nor yet the early fall bereaves
The willows of their lance-like leaves;
Where o'er the mead in stunted ranks
They line the streamlet's formal banks;
Or, from the axe exempted, spread
A broader shade, a loftier head.
The willows of their lance-like leaves;
Where o'er the mead in stunted ranks
They line the streamlet's formal banks;
Or, from the axe exempted, spread
A broader shade, a loftier head.
Such loftier head, such broader shade,
More rarely grows in forest glade
Of England, or her water'd meads;
Where still the blade remorseless shreds
The limbs of each aspiring tree.
But justly claims more high degree
The Willow on the sister coast,
Green Erin's beauty and her boast.
There with its native depth of shade,
Unscath'd by man, nor disarray'd
By autumn, yet she wears her charms,
Her towering head and branching arms.
With that lithe tree, whose branches slim
Hang from the lonely water's brim,
And in the dimpled surface steep
Their pendent leaves, and droop, and weep.
So droop'd, so wept, in days of yore,
On Babylon's far-distant shore,
Judea's captive sons! The thought
Of thee, O prostrate Zion, brought
Tears to their eyes, and fill'd them there
With sullen woe and dumb despair;
As for their harps, they all unstrung
Upon the willow trees were hung!
More rarely grows in forest glade
Of England, or her water'd meads;
Where still the blade remorseless shreds
The limbs of each aspiring tree.
But justly claims more high degree
The Willow on the sister coast,
Green Erin's beauty and her boast.
There with its native depth of shade,
Unscath'd by man, nor disarray'd
By autumn, yet she wears her charms,
Her towering head and branching arms.
With that lithe tree, whose branches slim
Hang from the lonely water's brim,
414
Their pendent leaves, and droop, and weep.
So droop'd, so wept, in days of yore,
On Babylon's far-distant shore,
Judea's captive sons! The thought
Of thee, O prostrate Zion, brought
Tears to their eyes, and fill'd them there
With sullen woe and dumb despair;
As for their harps, they all unstrung
Upon the willow trees were hung!
Nor yet does winter quite o'erwhelm
Thee, beauteous and aspiring Elm,
Whose leaves of yellow-tinted green
Still glimmer 'mid the darkling scene.
So on some youth consumption's prey,
Or lovely maid, deep-fix'd decay
Spreads o'er the cheek a hectick die,
And lightens in the sparkling eye.
Ah, treacherous tint, illusive light,
Signs sad and sure of threatening night!
Thee, beauteous and aspiring Elm,
Whose leaves of yellow-tinted green
Still glimmer 'mid the darkling scene.
So on some youth consumption's prey,
Or lovely maid, deep-fix'd decay
Spreads o'er the cheek a hectick die,
And lightens in the sparkling eye.
Ah, treacherous tint, illusive light,
Signs sad and sure of threatening night!
And see, with manly strength indued,
The peerless Sovereign of the wood
Yet bears aloft his regal crown,
And flowing robe of solemn brown.
As he his subject trees among,
Of texture close, and fabrick strong,
More late his vernal grace unfolds,
His autumn's pride he longer holds.
No hasty youth, that starts away,
Exhausted ere the turn of day;
But form'd till evening to endure,
Of parts less forward, but more sure.
Thence fit to quit the subject wood
At Britain's call, and rule the flood.
The peerless Sovereign of the wood
Yet bears aloft his regal crown,
And flowing robe of solemn brown.
As he his subject trees among,
Of texture close, and fabrick strong,
More late his vernal grace unfolds,
His autumn's pride he longer holds.
No hasty youth, that starts away,
Exhausted ere the turn of day;
But form'd till evening to endure,
Of parts less forward, but more sure.
415
At Britain's call, and rule the flood.
The Hedgerow, its general desolation, partially relieved. Such relief transient
Meanwhile along the pathway's edge,
Deep ruin marks the wither'd hedge.
Below, with leaves the turf is strown,
Mix'd with the fir-tree's scaly cone.
Beside, the flow'rless bank's ascent
Waves with the brown and sapless bent.
Bare are the sloe and whitethorn there,
Of leaves the eglantine is bare.
But still 'mid destitution glows
The bright red berry of the rose:
Still glows, on leafless stem forlorn,
With red less bright the berried thorn.
Still with dark violet-colour'd fruit,
And deep green leaves, and straggling shoot,
The fence the prickly bramble robes:
And privet, hung with purple globes,
His foliage stains with changeful hue
Of tawny bright, and glossy blue.
Still from their limber tendrils' end
Fresh leaves the climbing woodbines send.
Still yields the furze his golden bloom,
Tho' scant; as fair November's gloom
To brighten with a garland gay,
Stol'n from the brow of jocund May;
As loth to leave the whole domain
Renounc'd of nature's floral reign.
Deep ruin marks the wither'd hedge.
Below, with leaves the turf is strown,
Mix'd with the fir-tree's scaly cone.
Beside, the flow'rless bank's ascent
Waves with the brown and sapless bent.
Bare are the sloe and whitethorn there,
Of leaves the eglantine is bare.
But still 'mid destitution glows
The bright red berry of the rose:
Still glows, on leafless stem forlorn,
With red less bright the berried thorn.
Still with dark violet-colour'd fruit,
And deep green leaves, and straggling shoot,
The fence the prickly bramble robes:
And privet, hung with purple globes,
His foliage stains with changeful hue
Of tawny bright, and glossy blue.
Still from their limber tendrils' end
Fresh leaves the climbing woodbines send.
Still yields the furze his golden bloom,
Tho' scant; as fair November's gloom
To brighten with a garland gay,
Stol'n from the brow of jocund May;
As loth to leave the whole domain
Renounc'd of nature's floral reign.
They're welcome, 'mid the general wreck,
These remnants that the landscape deck.
But 'tis a mournful thought withal
How soon these remnants too must fall.
'Tis nature's ineffectual strife
Faint hold to keep on parting life:
The struggle of the fleeting breath,
Which soon must fail subdued by death!
These remnants that the landscape deck.
416
How soon these remnants too must fall.
'Tis nature's ineffectual strife
Faint hold to keep on parting life:
The struggle of the fleeting breath,
Which soon must fail subdued by death!
More lively objects in the landscape. The shrubbery. Laurel. Bay-tree. Portugal laurel. Laurustinus. Arbutus. China Rose. Rhododendron
But still more lively objects cheer
The wintry prospect dull and drear;
Where its free course along the veins
The vegetable blood maintains,
And leaves of vivid tint supply
A refuge for the wandering eye.
So 'mid the seasons of distress,
Which on this world of trial press,
To solace the most dreary scenes,
Now and again there intervenes
A spot, whereon the soul opprest
May find a refuge and a rest.
The wintry prospect dull and drear;
Where its free course along the veins
The vegetable blood maintains,
And leaves of vivid tint supply
A refuge for the wandering eye.
So 'mid the seasons of distress,
Which on this world of trial press,
To solace the most dreary scenes,
Now and again there intervenes
A spot, whereon the soul opprest
May find a refuge and a rest.
The pleasure ground's smooth-shaven space
The shrubbery's lowlier children grace.
That, which my pathway borders here,
The scentless laurel, never sere:
And that which bore in classick day
The laurel's name, the scented bay.
In compass wide, of stature tall,
The dark-leav'd plant of Portugal.
And Laurustinus gay, embost
With gems that brave the storm and frost:
And Arbutus, that hangs its shoots
With milkwhite flow'rs, and scarlet fruits.
From China nam'd, the Rose of die
And figure grateful to the eye,
But no sweet scents within it dwell
To gratify the longing smell;
Most valued that its summer bloom
It holds unhurt 'mid winter's gloom:
And o'er the trellis'd mansion led,
Or the meek peasant's cottage shed,
Bright mid o'erarching wreaths of snow
Its flow'rs with vernal beauty glow.
The shrubbery's lowlier children grace.
That, which my pathway borders here,
The scentless laurel, never sere:
And that which bore in classick day
The laurel's name, the scented bay.
In compass wide, of stature tall,
The dark-leav'd plant of Portugal.
And Laurustinus gay, embost
With gems that brave the storm and frost:
And Arbutus, that hangs its shoots
With milkwhite flow'rs, and scarlet fruits.
417
And figure grateful to the eye,
But no sweet scents within it dwell
To gratify the longing smell;
Most valued that its summer bloom
It holds unhurt 'mid winter's gloom:
And o'er the trellis'd mansion led,
Or the meek peasant's cottage shed,
Bright mid o'erarching wreaths of snow
Its flow'rs with vernal beauty glow.
Nor little prize we, though with flower
It bloom not in the wintry hour,
That moisture-loving plant, which bore
Its name and race from Pontick shore,
The “Rose-Tree;” tho' nor scent it knows,
Nor figure of our British rose.
See, from a central pillar spread,
Diverges many a cluster'd head:
Each cluster'd head profusely showers
Its summer bloom of purple flowers;
And ruffs of winter foliage deck,
Now blossomless, each cinctur'd neck.
It bloom not in the wintry hour,
That moisture-loving plant, which bore
Its name and race from Pontick shore,
The “Rose-Tree;” tho' nor scent it knows,
Nor figure of our British rose.
See, from a central pillar spread,
Diverges many a cluster'd head:
Each cluster'd head profusely showers
Its summer bloom of purple flowers;
And ruffs of winter foliage deck,
Now blossomless, each cinctur'd neck.
Flowers in blossom. Pervinkle. Ivy, beautiful but dangerous. Daisy, perpetually in bloom
Along the ground, beneath the wood,
Where late with blossom'd stem it stood,
Its head the bright pervinkle vails,
And far and wide its verdure trails;
Its leaves of verdure bright, but mixt
With flow'rs of brilliant blue betwixt.
Its verdure trails the ivy shoot
Along the ground from root to root;
Or climbing high with random maze
O'er elm, and ash, and alder strays;
And round each trunk a network weaves
Fantastick; and each bough with leaves
Of countless shapes intwines, and studs
With pale green blooms, and half-form'd buds.
The ivy, of our native flow'rs
That now among the latest pours
Its pale green bloom, and ripes its seed
Of black and shining balls, to feed,
Impervious to the winter's frost,
The little birds' afflicted host.
The ivy, fairest plant to seise
And promptest, on the neighbouring trees;
O'er bole and branch, with leaves that shine
All glossy bright, tenacious twine;
And the else naked woodland scene
Clothe with a raiment fresh and green.
Fair is that ivy twine to see!
But as you love the goodly tree,
O rend away the clasping wreath:
'Twill pay the kind support with death.
Ah, that beneath such semblance fair
Should lurk conceal'd such deadly snare!
Where late with blossom'd stem it stood,
Its head the bright pervinkle vails,
And far and wide its verdure trails;
Its leaves of verdure bright, but mixt
With flow'rs of brilliant blue betwixt.
Its verdure trails the ivy shoot
Along the ground from root to root;
418
O'er elm, and ash, and alder strays;
And round each trunk a network weaves
Fantastick; and each bough with leaves
Of countless shapes intwines, and studs
With pale green blooms, and half-form'd buds.
The ivy, of our native flow'rs
That now among the latest pours
Its pale green bloom, and ripes its seed
Of black and shining balls, to feed,
Impervious to the winter's frost,
The little birds' afflicted host.
The ivy, fairest plant to seise
And promptest, on the neighbouring trees;
O'er bole and branch, with leaves that shine
All glossy bright, tenacious twine;
And the else naked woodland scene
Clothe with a raiment fresh and green.
Fair is that ivy twine to see!
But as you love the goodly tree,
O rend away the clasping wreath:
'Twill pay the kind support with death.
Ah, that beneath such semblance fair
Should lurk conceal'd such deadly snare!
From starlike tufts of leaves, that spot
The pastur'd field, or garden plot,
Lo, the meek flow'r, whose buds unfold
Its tubes in disks of cluster'd gold,
'Mid rays of white and crimson die,
Nam'd of the day's expanded eye.
Among the first the flowery prime
To greet; the dull autumnal time
Among its last remains to cheer;
And still, amid the wintry year,
Tho' with the night her bloom she skreen
Close wrapt within its bow'r of green,
Prepar'd to hail the sunny ray,
And bare her bosom to the day!
The pastur'd field, or garden plot,
Lo, the meek flow'r, whose buds unfold
Its tubes in disks of cluster'd gold,
'Mid rays of white and crimson die,
Nam'd of the day's expanded eye.
Among the first the flowery prime
To greet; the dull autumnal time
419
And still, amid the wintry year,
Tho' with the night her bloom she skreen
Close wrapt within its bow'r of green,
Prepar'd to hail the sunny ray,
And bare her bosom to the day!
The Holly. The Yew. Fir-trees. The Spruce, Silver, Balm of Gilead. The Scotch Fir, its value in winter. Pines. The Weymouth Pine. Pinaster. Stone Pine. Cedar of Lebanon. The Enfield Cedar. Cedars at Warwick Castle. Beauty of the Tree. Its scriptural associations. Reflexions excited thereby
Above, the holly glads the scene
With prickly leaves of glossy green:
Bright green throughout; or trimly round
With rim of gold or silver bound;
And girt with balls of scarlet die,
Boon nature's provident supply
Of banquet for the eager bird:
Unless to village church transferr'd
It lend its brilliant colours gay
To grace the Saviour's natal day.
With prickly leaves of glossy green:
Bright green throughout; or trimly round
With rim of gold or silver bound;
And girt with balls of scarlet die,
Boon nature's provident supply
Of banquet for the eager bird:
Unless to village church transferr'd
It lend its brilliant colours gay
To grace the Saviour's natal day.
More rare the scarlet-berried Yew
Expands his arms of darker hue:
Fam'd that of old 'twas his to show
Meet armoury for the length of bow,
Which none but English arms could bend;
And thence the cloth-yard arrow send,
Urg'd by the incumbent body's weight,
Through harness'd horseman's mail or plate:—
Fam'd that 'twas his, his shade to spread
O'er the lone mansions, which the dead
Deep in their narrow beds inhume;
And still, with melancholy gloom
Appropriate deem'd, his boughs he waves
Above the peasants' osier'd graves.
Expands his arms of darker hue:
Fam'd that of old 'twas his to show
Meet armoury for the length of bow,
Which none but English arms could bend;
And thence the cloth-yard arrow send,
Urg'd by the incumbent body's weight,
Through harness'd horseman's mail or plate:—
Fam'd that 'twas his, his shade to spread
O'er the lone mansions, which the dead
Deep in their narrow beds inhume;
And still, with melancholy gloom
Appropriate deem'd, his boughs he waves
Above the peasants' osier'd graves.
420
And brethren firs their heads erect
With shades of brighter foliage deck'd,
Still lessening upward as they rise;
In shape alike, unlike in size:—
Their stems with leafy scales o'erlaid;—
Or with smooth silvery bark array'd,
Whose leaves of bright resplendent green
Upturn'd reveal a silvery sheen,
Prolifick of tenacious juice;—
Or such as welling forth produce
A rival, from the bleeding wound,
For Gilead's balsam; and around
From silvery leaves sweet fragrance breathe,
Streak'd with cerulean lines beneath,
As on the air they float. But most,
Of Scotia's hills the hardy boast
Alone above the pastur'd grass
Waves slow his boughs' unwieldly mass;
Or clothes, with shade collective crown'd,
Yon Danish fort's time-honour'd mound;
Or, scatter'd o'er the steep hill-side,
Dismantled of its vernal pride,
Unveils his broad cerulean form,
Regardless of the wintry storm.
That form tho' slender grace indue,
Nor bright be that cerulean hue,
He boasts, by favouring contrast shown,
A dignity beyond his own:
A lowly coin in wealth despis'd,
In penury caress'd and priz'd!
With shades of brighter foliage deck'd,
Still lessening upward as they rise;
In shape alike, unlike in size:—
Their stems with leafy scales o'erlaid;—
Or with smooth silvery bark array'd,
Whose leaves of bright resplendent green
Upturn'd reveal a silvery sheen,
Prolifick of tenacious juice;—
Or such as welling forth produce
A rival, from the bleeding wound,
For Gilead's balsam; and around
From silvery leaves sweet fragrance breathe,
Streak'd with cerulean lines beneath,
As on the air they float. But most,
Of Scotia's hills the hardy boast
Alone above the pastur'd grass
Waves slow his boughs' unwieldly mass;
Or clothes, with shade collective crown'd,
Yon Danish fort's time-honour'd mound;
Or, scatter'd o'er the steep hill-side,
Dismantled of its vernal pride,
Unveils his broad cerulean form,
Regardless of the wintry storm.
That form tho' slender grace indue,
Nor bright be that cerulean hue,
He boasts, by favouring contrast shown,
A dignity beyond his own:
A lowly coin in wealth despis'd,
In penury caress'd and priz'd!
421
And well it fares with them, who now
In park, or lawn, or upland brow,
Can boast the ever-verdant Pine:—
Him round whose branch, what time decline
The autumnal days, uprising stand
His wintry leaves, a bristling band,
Known by the noble Weymouth's name;
By whose sagacious care he came
From climes Columbian, and unfurl'd
His foliage in our older world:—
Pinaster's graceful sweep, whose cones
Clustering in brown and turgid zones
His stem of sober grey invest:—
Stone-pine, whose seeds, the Italian's feast,
Plung'd in their scal'd and ponderous bed
Threaten the unwary traveller's head :—
And dear to them, on distant climes,
Who love, and on the ancient times,
But chiefly on the lot to dwell
Of thee, once favour'd Israel,
The Cedar's stately growth! Though rare
With us of grandeur to compare
With such as wont of old to crown
The rocks of snowy Lebanon,
And still on Lebanon display
Their wrecks majestick in decay:
And still in heaven-instructed strain
Of Hebrew Bard their place maintain,
“With branches manifold and spread
Afar and wide; with spiral head
Hid in the boughs' collected crowd;
With stature high and shadowing shroud:”—
Yet charms he, if perchance your eye
His venerable form descry,
Such as in Enfield's royal chase
He holds his proud and lonely place,
The plant of learned Uvedale's skill,
Seedling from Syrian rocks; and still
There stands despite the rending wind,
The monarch of his stately kind:
Or such as, with collective grace,
A tribe of that unrivall'd race
O'er Warwick's princely reign extend,
And with a pomp their branches bend,
Befits the battlemented wall,
The vaulted porch, baronial hall,
The castle's antique armoury,
Julius' high tow'r, and keep of Guy:—
Yes, charms he; though less tall he grows,
And less his spreading branches throws,
Still does the Cedar charm the sight;
But haply more his charms delight
(By those nice links of thought, that bind
Dissociate scenes,) the pensive mind;
And in reflection's day-dreams lost
Bears her afar to Syria's coast.
In park, or lawn, or upland brow,
Can boast the ever-verdant Pine:—
Him round whose branch, what time decline
The autumnal days, uprising stand
His wintry leaves, a bristling band,
Known by the noble Weymouth's name;
By whose sagacious care he came
From climes Columbian, and unfurl'd
His foliage in our older world:—
Pinaster's graceful sweep, whose cones
Clustering in brown and turgid zones
His stem of sober grey invest:—
Stone-pine, whose seeds, the Italian's feast,
Plung'd in their scal'd and ponderous bed
Threaten the unwary traveller's head :—
And dear to them, on distant climes,
Who love, and on the ancient times,
But chiefly on the lot to dwell
Of thee, once favour'd Israel,
The Cedar's stately growth! Though rare
With us of grandeur to compare
With such as wont of old to crown
The rocks of snowy Lebanon,
And still on Lebanon display
Their wrecks majestick in decay:
And still in heaven-instructed strain
Of Hebrew Bard their place maintain,
422
Afar and wide; with spiral head
Hid in the boughs' collected crowd;
With stature high and shadowing shroud:”—
Yet charms he, if perchance your eye
His venerable form descry,
Such as in Enfield's royal chase
He holds his proud and lonely place,
The plant of learned Uvedale's skill,
Seedling from Syrian rocks; and still
There stands despite the rending wind,
The monarch of his stately kind:
Or such as, with collective grace,
A tribe of that unrivall'd race
O'er Warwick's princely reign extend,
And with a pomp their branches bend,
Befits the battlemented wall,
The vaulted porch, baronial hall,
The castle's antique armoury,
Julius' high tow'r, and keep of Guy:—
Yes, charms he; though less tall he grows,
And less his spreading branches throws,
Still does the Cedar charm the sight;
But haply more his charms delight
(By those nice links of thought, that bind
Dissociate scenes,) the pensive mind;
And in reflection's day-dreams lost
Bears her afar to Syria's coast.
Thence rise the records to her eye,
And songs of holy imagery;
From Egypt's land how Israel's vine,
Planted in fertile Palestine,
Far o'er the hills its shadow threw,
And like the goodly cedar grew :
How from yon mountain top, indued
With covering of the cedar wood ,
Rose on mount Sion's northern side,
Joy of the earth, her temple's pride:
How they who loved that holy place,
Bath'd by the dews of heavenly grace,
Presented in their lives portray'd
The goodly cedar's height and shade !
And songs of holy imagery;
From Egypt's land how Israel's vine,
Planted in fertile Palestine,
423
And like the goodly cedar grew :
How from yon mountain top, indued
With covering of the cedar wood ,
Rose on mount Sion's northern side,
Joy of the earth, her temple's pride:
How they who loved that holy place,
Bath'd by the dews of heavenly grace,
Presented in their lives portray'd
The goodly cedar's height and shade !
Dead is the vine of Israel now:
Each branch and cedar-seeming bough
The wild beast of the field hath torn,
Away the forest boar hath borne!
Fall'n is the temple's lofty height;
Each heavenly sign, each holy rite,
The cedar-fabrick all o'erthrown,
Beam rent from beam, and stone from stone!
But God hath rear'd another vine
More fair than that of Palestine,
Whose branching arms and towering head
With more majestick grandeur spread.
And God hath built another shrine
In beauty, Sion, passing thine,
Materials richer, and which own
A more enduring corner-stone.
And there a new and cherish'd race
Have found a more perennial place,
Offsprings and nurslings of his care;
Thrive in its courts, and flourish there,
And pass the goodly Cedar's form,
By age unworn, unblench'd by storm!
Each branch and cedar-seeming bough
The wild beast of the field hath torn,
Away the forest boar hath borne!
Fall'n is the temple's lofty height;
Each heavenly sign, each holy rite,
The cedar-fabrick all o'erthrown,
Beam rent from beam, and stone from stone!
But God hath rear'd another vine
More fair than that of Palestine,
Whose branching arms and towering head
With more majestick grandeur spread.
And God hath built another shrine
In beauty, Sion, passing thine,
Materials richer, and which own
A more enduring corner-stone.
And there a new and cherish'd race
Have found a more perennial place,
Offsprings and nurslings of his care;
Thrive in its courts, and flourish there,
424
By age unworn, unblench'd by storm!
See Martial, Ep. xiii. 25.
Poma sumus Cybeles: procul hinc discede, viator,
Ne cadat in miserum nostra ruina caput.
Ne cadat in miserum nostra ruina caput.
Progress of destruction. Leaves whirl'd round by the wind. A child's comparison. A grandfather's prayer.
Thus while from scenes of sense away
My thoughts to scenes ideal stray,
Each hour, each minute, as I muse,
More wide destruction's work diffuse.
My thoughts to scenes ideal stray,
Each hour, each minute, as I muse,
More wide destruction's work diffuse.
Few were the leaves that held this morn
Frail tenure on their trees forlorn:
Such tenure, lo! they're quitting fast,
Before November's early blast,
Which, as they fall, or from the ground
Caught up, in spiry volumes round
Whirls them in mingled masses high:
Or, like the vernal Butterfly,
In sportive mazes, here and there,
They mount and flutter thro' the air;
So deem'd, in artless childhood's sight,
Their colours gay and motions light.
Frail tenure on their trees forlorn:
Such tenure, lo! they're quitting fast,
Before November's early blast,
Which, as they fall, or from the ground
Caught up, in spiry volumes round
Whirls them in mingled masses high:
Or, like the vernal Butterfly,
In sportive mazes, here and there,
They mount and flutter thro' the air;
So deem'd, in artless childhood's sight,
Their colours gay and motions light.
Yes, dearest Child! the thought was thine,
As thou with pleasure infantine,
And nature's simple taste, didst note
The wing-like foliage round thee float.
Thy playful mind the likeness caught:
But yet, unus'd to graver thought,
That mind was not awake to see
The wide and deep diversity
Between the insect and the leaf;
Wide as the step from joy to grief,
Wide as the interval appears
From childhood to declining years:
That, sporting light on painted plume,
This, speeding to the silent tomb!—
O be it thine, sweet child, to vie
In rapture with the butterfly,
And frolick, void of guile as she,
With bosom full of vernal glee;
When chill November's death-like blast
Has o'er this faded body past,
And with the leaves, that fall around,
Consign'd it to its kindred ground!
As thou with pleasure infantine,
And nature's simple taste, didst note
The wing-like foliage round thee float.
Thy playful mind the likeness caught:
But yet, unus'd to graver thought,
That mind was not awake to see
The wide and deep diversity
Between the insect and the leaf;
Wide as the step from joy to grief,
Wide as the interval appears
From childhood to declining years:
425
This, speeding to the silent tomb!—
O be it thine, sweet child, to vie
In rapture with the butterfly,
And frolick, void of guile as she,
With bosom full of vernal glee;
When chill November's death-like blast
Has o'er this faded body past,
And with the leaves, that fall around,
Consign'd it to its kindred ground!
Lessons to be derived from children. The Leaf and the Butterfly
Who knows not, in the manners mild
And humble of a “little child,”
How for our rash presumptuous kind
Did Wisdom's self a lesson find ?
And he who sets his mind to scan,
Unhackney'd in the ways of man
A “little child's” simplicity,
From malice, guile, and envy free,
With what its parents will, content,
Yet uncorrupt and innocent;
Who notes its thoughts, and words, and ways,
Its occupations, studies, plays:
May thence perchance instruction draw
Ministrant to the heavenly law,
And take from childhood's book a page
Of learning for maturer age.
And humble of a “little child,”
How for our rash presumptuous kind
Did Wisdom's self a lesson find ?
And he who sets his mind to scan,
Unhackney'd in the ways of man
A “little child's” simplicity,
From malice, guile, and envy free,
With what its parents will, content,
Yet uncorrupt and innocent;
Who notes its thoughts, and words, and ways,
Its occupations, studies, plays:
May thence perchance instruction draw
Ministrant to the heavenly law,
And take from childhood's book a page
Of learning for maturer age.
Small things are precious, and impart
Improvement to the willing heart!
So deems the meditative Muse;
And thus in lighter strain pursues,
But not in light, unthrifty mood
That “little child's” similitude.
Improvement to the willing heart!
So deems the meditative Muse;
And thus in lighter strain pursues,
426
That “little child's” similitude.
Discolour'd by wet and dismantled by frost,
Well nigh had the garden its garniture lost;
And the blasts of November unsparingly strew'd
The fast falling leaves of the copse and the wood.
Well nigh had the garden its garniture lost;
And the blasts of November unsparingly strew'd
The fast falling leaves of the copse and the wood.
The leaves, as they fell or lay loose on the ground,
Were caught by the whirlwind, and twisted around;
Around, up and downward, now here and now there,
They skimm'd o'er the earth, and they swam on the air.
Were caught by the whirlwind, and twisted around;
Around, up and downward, now here and now there,
They skimm'd o'er the earth, and they swam on the air.
My Lizzie remark'd them as round her they flew,
So fantastick in figure, so shining in hue,
In motion so frolicksome, buoyant, and light,
And she liken'd their forms to the Butterfly's flight.
So fantastick in figure, so shining in hue,
In motion so frolicksome, buoyant, and light,
And she liken'd their forms to the Butterfly's flight.
In that object of pleasure she saw not the sign
Of the winter's approaches, the autumn's decline,
The faded leaf seem'd like the butterfly's wing,
And the last trace of autumn the symptom of spring,
Of the winter's approaches, the autumn's decline,
The faded leaf seem'd like the butterfly's wing,
And the last trace of autumn the symptom of spring,
Enjoy, my sweet child, the resemblance enjoy;
I would not the vision of pleasure destroy:
I would not impress thee with nature's decay,
Nor warn that her beauty is passing away.
I would not the vision of pleasure destroy:
I would not impress thee with nature's decay,
Nor warn that her beauty is passing away.
Enough, when the clouds shall have vented their load,
And flooded the meads, and obstructed the road;
Enough for thee then to discover with grief
The bereavement that waits on the fall of the leaf.
And flooded the meads, and obstructed the road;
427
The bereavement that waits on the fall of the leaf.
Now abroad, while permitted, go, cheerfully rove
Through the field and the garden, the copse and the grove;
And sure, when the weather forbids thee to roam,
Employment and pleasure will meet thee at home.
Through the field and the garden, the copse and the grove;
And sure, when the weather forbids thee to roam,
Employment and pleasure will meet thee at home.
Thine's the age of enjoyment! And happy are they,
Who through nature with child-like simplicity stray;
Who despite of the time, in the season's despite,
Make occasions of pleasure each object of sight:
Who through nature with child-like simplicity stray;
Who despite of the time, in the season's despite,
Make occasions of pleasure each object of sight:
Who with thoughts of to-morrow's increasing decay
Disturb not the innocent joys of to-day;
From the fall of a leaf feel a pleasantness spring,
And deem it as fair as the Butterfly's wing!
Disturb not the innocent joys of to-day;
From the fall of a leaf feel a pleasantness spring,
And deem it as fair as the Butterfly's wing!
The brook. Collected leaves. Their effect. The stream of life
Hard by the brook, that glides beneath,
Where hangs the Traveller's joy a wreath
Of feathery seeds globose, and fern
Waves drooping o'er the bosky bourn,
In many a brown and tawny heap
The eddying winds the foliage sweep.
A slender twig, at random tost,
Has here and there the streamlet crost.
Thither the leaves in clusters throng,
And as the waters creep along,
Still gathering form a gulphy bay,
And check the rippling runnel's way.
Now, where the dam, less thickly placed,
An outlet leaves, with fretful haste
The brook, its current turn'd askew,
Bubbling and foaming passes through.
And now, where strides the unyielding ridge
From bank to bank, an archless bridge,
With gather'd force the barrier o'er
Right down the angry waters pour:
Till, in a basin broad below,
Uncheck'd they spread, unbroken flow,
And thro' their bed of wavy grass
In undisturbed stillness pass.
Where hangs the Traveller's joy a wreath
Of feathery seeds globose, and fern
Waves drooping o'er the bosky bourn,
In many a brown and tawny heap
The eddying winds the foliage sweep.
A slender twig, at random tost,
Has here and there the streamlet crost.
Thither the leaves in clusters throng,
And as the waters creep along,
428
And check the rippling runnel's way.
Now, where the dam, less thickly placed,
An outlet leaves, with fretful haste
The brook, its current turn'd askew,
Bubbling and foaming passes through.
And now, where strides the unyielding ridge
From bank to bank, an archless bridge,
With gather'd force the barrier o'er
Right down the angry waters pour:
Till, in a basin broad below,
Uncheck'd they spread, unbroken flow,
And thro' their bed of wavy grass
In undisturbed stillness pass.
So fares it with the stream of life!
How small a cause will wake to strife
That litttle rill! At once efface
Its due tranquillity; displace
The current from its stated bounds;
And cause it o'er opposing mounds
To swell impatient!—Happy they,
Who from resistance steal away;
Hold calmly on their course assign'd,
And in the track of duty find,
Secure from every thwarting ill,
A peaceful passage calm and still!
How small a cause will wake to strife
That litttle rill! At once efface
Its due tranquillity; displace
The current from its stated bounds;
And cause it o'er opposing mounds
To swell impatient!—Happy they,
Who from resistance steal away;
Hold calmly on their course assign'd,
And in the track of duty find,
Secure from every thwarting ill,
A peaceful passage calm and still!
The wind. Its unceasing sound. Its awfulness. Sudden cessation of the storm
What prodigality of sound
Is heard above, beneath, around!
The wind the laurel branches heaves,
And rustles in the quivering leaves;
While big round drops, that now descend
From bough to bough, their pattering blend.
From bordering trees dismantled rise
Sobs, as of woe, and louder sighs.
But where the blasts imprison'd sweep
Thro' yon tall mountain's woodclad steep,
Resounds a long continuous roar,
Like billows on the salt sea shore;
Or countless voices, loud and rude,
Of some ungovern'd multitude.
Now high, now low, it sinks and swells,
As more or less the blast impels
The booming boughs: but no delay,
No minute's stop, no moment's stay,
Is felt. Nor rest he grants, nor pause,
The Spirit of the storm; nor draws
An instant's breath, that may allow
The ear to say, “There's stillness now!”
Is heard above, beneath, around!
The wind the laurel branches heaves,
And rustles in the quivering leaves;
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From bough to bough, their pattering blend.
From bordering trees dismantled rise
Sobs, as of woe, and louder sighs.
But where the blasts imprison'd sweep
Thro' yon tall mountain's woodclad steep,
Resounds a long continuous roar,
Like billows on the salt sea shore;
Or countless voices, loud and rude,
Of some ungovern'd multitude.
Now high, now low, it sinks and swells,
As more or less the blast impels
The booming boughs: but no delay,
No minute's stop, no moment's stay,
Is felt. Nor rest he grants, nor pause,
The Spirit of the storm; nor draws
An instant's breath, that may allow
The ear to say, “There's stillness now!”
There is a sense of awe profound
Dwells in that long continuous sound!
Not startling, like the thunder-peal,
Which makes the staggering spirit reel:
But a deep feeling undefin'd,
Which seizes on the yielding mind;
Holds her o'erpower'd, but not distrest;
Soothes her, but lulls her not to rest;
And o'er her casts a potent spell,
Which she nor can, nor would, dispel.
A feeling, to the pensive dear,
Of pleasure not unmix'd with fear!
Dwells in that long continuous sound!
Not startling, like the thunder-peal,
Which makes the staggering spirit reel:
But a deep feeling undefin'd,
Which seizes on the yielding mind;
Holds her o'erpower'd, but not distrest;
Soothes her, but lulls her not to rest;
And o'er her casts a potent spell,
Which she nor can, nor would, dispel.
A feeling, to the pensive dear,
Of pleasure not unmix'd with fear!
'Tis stillness now! A sudden stay
Has check'd the wild wind on its way,
As, screaming on its mother's breast,
At once the infant sinks to rest.
And now throughout the wood, that late
Wav'd bending to the tempest's weight,
Nor could its depths an echo form,
Save to the wailing of the storm;
Nor bends a twig, nor breathes a breath:
'Tis silence, like the calm of death.
'Twould seem that winter had foregone,
By wrong usurp'd, his stormy throne,
And giv'n the rightful sway again
To mild October's placid reign.
Or rather He, whose boundless force
Directs each month's, each season's course,
Who form'd creation's works of old,
And, what he form'd, hath still controll'd,
Ev'n He hath said, at whose high will
The wind or swells or falls, “Be still!”
Has check'd the wild wind on its way,
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At once the infant sinks to rest.
And now throughout the wood, that late
Wav'd bending to the tempest's weight,
Nor could its depths an echo form,
Save to the wailing of the storm;
Nor bends a twig, nor breathes a breath:
'Tis silence, like the calm of death.
'Twould seem that winter had foregone,
By wrong usurp'd, his stormy throne,
And giv'n the rightful sway again
To mild October's placid reign.
Or rather He, whose boundless force
Directs each month's, each season's course,
Who form'd creation's works of old,
And, what he form'd, hath still controll'd,
Ev'n He hath said, at whose high will
The wind or swells or falls, “Be still!”
Occasional singing of birds. The Blackbird. Their songs interrupted. The Thrush. The golden-crested Wren. His actions and figure. The Redbreast, a general favourite
What sound is that, which loud and shrill
Breaks pleasantly the silence still?—
And art thou there, whom many a day
I've sought to hear thy roundelay,
Bird of the sleek and spotless black?
Yes: 'twas thy note: thou'rt welcome back,
Attended by thy dusky mate.
What, thou hast lov'd thro' woods of late
Wild nature's denizen to roam;
And now thou seek'st a safer home,
A readier meal, a thicker skreen
'Mid boughs of sheltering evergreen!
Well, be it so! Thou'rt welcome here;
For well I love thy whistle clear,
Tho' frequent less, less rich the note,
Than that which swells thy vernal throat.
Here lurk in peace, prepar'd to greet
Among the first the primrose sweet,
And make the wood and garden ring
With the full harmony of spring!
Breaks pleasantly the silence still?—
And art thou there, whom many a day
I've sought to hear thy roundelay,
Bird of the sleek and spotless black?
Yes: 'twas thy note: thou'rt welcome back,
Attended by thy dusky mate.
What, thou hast lov'd thro' woods of late
Wild nature's denizen to roam;
And now thou seek'st a safer home,
A readier meal, a thicker skreen
'Mid boughs of sheltering evergreen!
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For well I love thy whistle clear,
Tho' frequent less, less rich the note,
Than that which swells thy vernal throat.
Here lurk in peace, prepar'd to greet
Among the first the primrose sweet,
And make the wood and garden ring
With the full harmony of spring!
No such harmonious concert now
From garden bush, or woodland bough;
But faint, and far between, is heard
The song of solitary bird.
From garden bush, or woodland bough;
But faint, and far between, is heard
The song of solitary bird.
Such gurgling from thy yellow bill
At intervals the deepton'd trill,
As, starting quick from laurel bush,
Thy wings the garden's surface brush.
At intervals the deepton'd trill,
As, starting quick from laurel bush,
Thy wings the garden's surface brush.
And such, in brown and yellow drest,
Thy brother's of the spotted breast.
What tho', throughout the year's decline,
He now delight not line on line,
From morn to noon, from noon to eve,
His strain's unbroken web to weave,
As all the springtide hours along;
Yet oft with sweetly warbled song
Even now he wakes the morning dim,
Even now he chaunts his evening hymn,
And oft e'en now with grateful lays
Salutes the mild meridian rays.
Thy brother's of the spotted breast.
What tho', throughout the year's decline,
He now delight not line on line,
From morn to noon, from noon to eve,
His strain's unbroken web to weave,
As all the springtide hours along;
Yet oft with sweetly warbled song
Even now he wakes the morning dim,
Even now he chaunts his evening hymn,
And oft e'en now with grateful lays
Salutes the mild meridian rays.
And such, with voice so sweet and small,
From oaken twig the madrigal
Of him the bird of golden crest,
And size diminutive, the least
Of Britain's warblers. To the ear
More frequent thro' the waning year
Comes the sweet note from flocks, that seek
From Hyperborean mountains bleak
Our milder glens. But, as they wind
Round oak or elm's deep-furrow'd rind,
Or to the spreading fir-tree wing
Alert their fluttering flight, and cling
Beneath the boughs, the foliage thread,
And creeping to the topmost head
From branch to branch all noiseless steal;
The trees the tiny form conceal,
The back with ashy green bedight,
The wings with sable barr'd and white,
The breast's pale yellow mixt with brown,
And fring'd with black the orange crown.
From oaken twig the madrigal
Of him the bird of golden crest,
And size diminutive, the least
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More frequent thro' the waning year
Comes the sweet note from flocks, that seek
From Hyperborean mountains bleak
Our milder glens. But, as they wind
Round oak or elm's deep-furrow'd rind,
Or to the spreading fir-tree wing
Alert their fluttering flight, and cling
Beneath the boughs, the foliage thread,
And creeping to the topmost head
From branch to branch all noiseless steal;
The trees the tiny form conceal,
The back with ashy green bedight,
The wings with sable barr'd and white,
The breast's pale yellow mixt with brown,
And fring'd with black the orange crown.
But chiefly he is heard, whose praise
Still lives in England's cottage lays,
He, who those hapless “children” strew'd
With leaves amid the lonely “wood!”
And still is Robin far and near
To England's cottage children dear:
For motions brisk, and manners free,
And merry pipe of livelong glee,
As blithe he perches overhead,
Or pecks the fall'n leaves' wither'd bed,
Or hops the saunterer's steps before,
Or seeks the hospitable door,
By all afield, at home preferr'd,
The friend of man, the household bird!
Still lives in England's cottage lays,
He, who those hapless “children” strew'd
With leaves amid the lonely “wood!”
And still is Robin far and near
To England's cottage children dear:
For motions brisk, and manners free,
And merry pipe of livelong glee,
As blithe he perches overhead,
Or pecks the fall'n leaves' wither'd bed,
Or hops the saunterer's steps before,
Or seeks the hospitable door,
By all afield, at home preferr'd,
The friend of man, the household bird!
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Less tuneful birds. Ringdoves, &c. Rooks, apology for them. Wagtail, &c. Common Wren, his cheerfulness to be imitated. The Ox-eye. Blue Tit, his curious actions and habits. Sparrows. Their noisiness. Their contentions at roosting
Nor few the lively sounds, that still,
Mix'd with the tinkling of the rill,
The air's less tuneful tenants make,
From hill or meadow, grove or brake:
Tho' little priz'd by vulgar ear,
To nature's watchful votary dear.
Mix'd with the tinkling of the rill,
The air's less tuneful tenants make,
From hill or meadow, grove or brake:
Tho' little priz'd by vulgar ear,
To nature's watchful votary dear.
Where in large flocks thro' forest bare
They swarm, no longer pair by pair
Disperst, as when their nestling brood
They rear amid the deep green wood;
On lofty ash the solemn note
Pour'd from the cushat's varied throat,
Which spots of silvery white infold,
And wavy gleams of verdant gold.
The jay's harsh scream: the alarum cry
Loud echoing of the clamorous pie:
Thrice knoll'd from his coeval oak
The raven's deep funereal croak:
And cawing rooks' repeated sound,
Aloft, and wheeling round and round,
Where the brown stubble's new turn'd rows
The worm and buried grub disclose.
Destroy them not! For tho' with these
Perchance some scatter'd grains they seise,
They'll more than pay the corn they take:
Then spare them for your harvest's sake!
Or, if for nature's charms you care,
O, for their strange wild music spare!
They swarm, no longer pair by pair
Disperst, as when their nestling brood
They rear amid the deep green wood;
On lofty ash the solemn note
Pour'd from the cushat's varied throat,
Which spots of silvery white infold,
And wavy gleams of verdant gold.
The jay's harsh scream: the alarum cry
Loud echoing of the clamorous pie:
Thrice knoll'd from his coeval oak
The raven's deep funereal croak:
And cawing rooks' repeated sound,
Aloft, and wheeling round and round,
Where the brown stubble's new turn'd rows
The worm and buried grub disclose.
Destroy them not! For tho' with these
Perchance some scatter'd grains they seise,
They'll more than pay the corn they take:
Then spare them for your harvest's sake!
Or, if for nature's charms you care,
O, for their strange wild music spare!
Such more remote. At hand I greet
The nimble Wagtail's brisk “te-wheet:”
Or hedgerow Chanter's chirrup sharp,
Like twanging string of lute or harp:
Or Chaffingch's unchanging “twink”
From beechen bough: or “Chink, chink, chink,”
The quick note of the russet Wren.
Familiar to the haunts of men,
He quits in hollow'd wall his bow'r,
And thro' the winter's gloomy hour
Sings cheerily: nor yet hath lost
His blitheness, chill'd by pinching frost;
Nor yet is forc'd for warmth to cleave
To cavern'd nook, or strawbuilt eave.
Sing, little bird! Sing on, design'd
A lesson for our anxious kind;
That we, like thee, with heart's content
Enjoy the blessings, God hath sent;
His bounty trust, perform his will,
Nor antedate uncertain ill!
The nimble Wagtail's brisk “te-wheet:”
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Like twanging string of lute or harp:
Or Chaffingch's unchanging “twink”
From beechen bough: or “Chink, chink, chink,”
The quick note of the russet Wren.
Familiar to the haunts of men,
He quits in hollow'd wall his bow'r,
And thro' the winter's gloomy hour
Sings cheerily: nor yet hath lost
His blitheness, chill'd by pinching frost;
Nor yet is forc'd for warmth to cleave
To cavern'd nook, or strawbuilt eave.
Sing, little bird! Sing on, design'd
A lesson for our anxious kind;
That we, like thee, with heart's content
Enjoy the blessings, God hath sent;
His bounty trust, perform his will,
Nor antedate uncertain ill!
Loud chatters from his ivied hold
The black-capp'd Oxeye, fierce and bold.
And see alarm'd before me flit
Of smaller size his brother Tit,
Vest yellowish green, and bonnet blue.
Now up, now down, and through and through,
O'er trunk and branch, with prying beak
He climbs, and restless eye, to seek,
Close lodg'd within the crevic'd wood,
Or moss-clad bark, his insect food.
His haunt the larva's known resort:
Nor less the homestead's stable court
Attracts him: thence with pilfer'd grain
He hies him to his bush again,
And forth the precious morsel draws
With sounding bill and grasping claws.
The black-capp'd Oxeye, fierce and bold.
And see alarm'd before me flit
Of smaller size his brother Tit,
Vest yellowish green, and bonnet blue.
Now up, now down, and through and through,
O'er trunk and branch, with prying beak
He climbs, and restless eye, to seek,
Close lodg'd within the crevic'd wood,
Or moss-clad bark, his insect food.
His haunt the larva's known resort:
Nor less the homestead's stable court
Attracts him: thence with pilfer'd grain
He hies him to his bush again,
435
With sounding bill and grasping claws.
But hark! what hurtling noise is there,
What sound of rushing thro' the air?
Close lurking in the laurel boughs
My steps a host of sparrows rouse.
Up from their couch at once they spring,
And brush, brush, brush, with rustling wing
Wheel off to yonder leafless trees:
There sit they, thick as clustering bees;
Till, past the terror, back they crowd,
And, with tumultuous clamour loud,
From twig to twig aspiring hop,
And struggle for the loftiest top.
What, you, ye little birds of air,
Do you for rank and station care?
What boots it, safe from nightly foe,
Which roost above, and which below?
Forbear the ambitious strife for place,
And leave it to our wiser race!
What sound of rushing thro' the air?
Close lurking in the laurel boughs
My steps a host of sparrows rouse.
Up from their couch at once they spring,
And brush, brush, brush, with rustling wing
Wheel off to yonder leafless trees:
There sit they, thick as clustering bees;
Till, past the terror, back they crowd,
And, with tumultuous clamour loud,
From twig to twig aspiring hop,
And struggle for the loftiest top.
What, you, ye little birds of air,
Do you for rank and station care?
What boots it, safe from nightly foe,
Which roost above, and which below?
Forbear the ambitious strife for place,
And leave it to our wiser race!
Occasional gleams of sunshine. The evening sun emerging from a cloud. A thought for the afflicted. Objects affected by change of place. The mind similarly relieved. Short time of our continuance here. Preparation for departure. Christian consolation on the death of friends
Such lingering sounds remain to cheer
The dulness of the parting year.
Nor does its face as yet assume
Confirm'd its character of gloom.
Tho' oft the shrouded welkin lowers
With murky clouds and dripping showers;
Yet wants there not a cheerful beam,
Now and again to shed a gleam
Of radiant gladness; and the shroud
Of dripping show'rs, and murky cloud,
Light with a sadly pleasing grace;
A smile upon affliction's face!
The dulness of the parting year.
Nor does its face as yet assume
Confirm'd its character of gloom.
Tho' oft the shrouded welkin lowers
With murky clouds and dripping showers;
Yet wants there not a cheerful beam,
Now and again to shed a gleam
Of radiant gladness; and the shroud
Of dripping show'rs, and murky cloud,
436
A smile upon affliction's face!
I see him now, the golden Sun!
As from beneath that wimple dun,
Wherein he veil'd his streaming crest,
While journeying to his goal of rest,
Forth looks he with declining light,
Or ere he bids the world good night.
And now he's gone! No, yet once more
His rays reviving lustre pour!
'Twas but a passing cloud, that reft
Few moments' light, and now hath left
His brighten'd beams again to shine
Above the forest's western line.
As from beneath that wimple dun,
Wherein he veil'd his streaming crest,
While journeying to his goal of rest,
Forth looks he with declining light,
Or ere he bids the world good night.
And now he's gone! No, yet once more
His rays reviving lustre pour!
'Twas but a passing cloud, that reft
Few moments' light, and now hath left
His brighten'd beams again to shine
Above the forest's western line.
Full sure I deem'd him buried quite,
Absorb'd in darkness and in night.
And so to them, whom deep distress
O'erhangs, their sun of happiness,
Before its earthly bound be met,
Seems in o'erwhelming clouds to set.
Cheer up, sad heart! For who can say,
But that the clouds, which throng thy way,
And menace thee with livelong gloom,
The darken'd sun may yet illume;
Beam on thy evening path awhile,
And bless thee with a farewell smile!
Absorb'd in darkness and in night.
And so to them, whom deep distress
O'erhangs, their sun of happiness,
Before its earthly bound be met,
Seems in o'erwhelming clouds to set.
Cheer up, sad heart! For who can say,
But that the clouds, which throng thy way,
And menace thee with livelong gloom,
The darken'd sun may yet illume;
Beam on thy evening path awhile,
And bless thee with a farewell smile!
How much of place a trifling change
Affects the eyes' still varying range!
But now, as yonder spot I trod,
Near verging on the upland wood,
The sun, behind the mount embay'd,
Was hidden, and I walk'd in shade.
Few are the steps that intervene,
'Tis but the garden's breadth between,
Above the wood's illumin'd head,
Above the hill, his beams are shed;
Now on my path with radiance bright
They glitter, and I walk in light.
Affects the eyes' still varying range!
But now, as yonder spot I trod,
Near verging on the upland wood,
437
Was hidden, and I walk'd in shade.
Few are the steps that intervene,
'Tis but the garden's breadth between,
Above the wood's illumin'd head,
Above the hill, his beams are shed;
Now on my path with radiance bright
They glitter, and I walk in light.
And so perchance, when on the mind,
In scenes to gloominess inclin'd,
Departing pleasures, as they go,
A shadow prematurely throw;
Most wisely we the thoughts employ
In places, more akin to joy,
Joy to no taint of vice allied,
And ever found on virtue's side,
And seek to catch, while yet we may,
The brightness of the sinking ray!
In scenes to gloominess inclin'd,
Departing pleasures, as they go,
A shadow prematurely throw;
Most wisely we the thoughts employ
In places, more akin to joy,
Joy to no taint of vice allied,
And ever found on virtue's side,
And seek to catch, while yet we may,
The brightness of the sinking ray!
Full brief at best! For as the sun,
While thus I muse, his goal has won,
And here and there, each darkening side
Alike the gathering shadows hide;
So with the night's o'erhanging fall,
That waits and must descend on all,
But a few moments' speedy pace,
A garden walk's contracted space,
A point 'gainst endless being weigh'd,
Divides the first and latest shade!
While thus I muse, his goal has won,
And here and there, each darkening side
Alike the gathering shadows hide;
So with the night's o'erhanging fall,
That waits and must descend on all,
But a few moments' speedy pace,
A garden walk's contracted space,
A point 'gainst endless being weigh'd,
Divides the first and latest shade!
O, come it first, or come it last,
The shadow o'er my passage cast,
Grant it may find me on my guard,
And at thy will, O God, prepar'd,
To welcome the approaching gloom,
The deep dark stillness of the tomb!
'Tis but a transitory night:
The sun shall rise, and all be light!
The shadow o'er my passage cast,
Grant it may find me on my guard,
And at thy will, O God, prepar'd,
438
The deep dark stillness of the tomb!
'Tis but a transitory night:
The sun shall rise, and all be light!
Sweet thought, and of sweet solace full,
And apt the swelling grief to lull
Of those, beside a parting friend
Constrain'd in bitterness to bend;
The form, so cherish'd once and dear,
To follow on its funeral bier;
And see the grave above it close,
The last “long home” of man's repose.
And apt the swelling grief to lull
Of those, beside a parting friend
Constrain'd in bitterness to bend;
The form, so cherish'd once and dear,
To follow on its funeral bier;
And see the grave above it close,
The last “long home” of man's repose.
It has been said, and I believe,
Though tears of natural sorrow start,
'Tis mix'd with pleasure when we grieve
For those the dearest to the heart,
From whom long-lov'd at length we part;
As by a Christian's feelings led
We lay them in their peaceful bed.
Though tears of natural sorrow start,
'Tis mix'd with pleasure when we grieve
For those the dearest to the heart,
From whom long-lov'd at length we part;
As by a Christian's feelings led
We lay them in their peaceful bed.
Yet speak I not of those who go
The allotted pilgrimage on earth,
With earth-born passions grovelling low,
Enslav'd to honour, avarice, mirth,
Unconscious of a nobler birth:
But such as tread with loftier scope
The Christian's path with Christian hope.
The allotted pilgrimage on earth,
With earth-born passions grovelling low,
Enslav'd to honour, avarice, mirth,
Unconscious of a nobler birth:
But such as tread with loftier scope
The Christian's path with Christian hope.
439
We grieve to think, that they again
Shall ne'er in this world's pleasure share:
But sweet the thought, that this world's pain
No more is their's; that this world's care
It is no more their lot to bear.
And surely in this scene below
The joy is balanc'd by the woe!
Shall ne'er in this world's pleasure share:
But sweet the thought, that this world's pain
No more is their's; that this world's care
It is no more their lot to bear.
And surely in this scene below
The joy is balanc'd by the woe!
We grieve to see the lifeless form,
The livid cheek, the sunken eye:
But sweet to think, corruption's worm
The living spirit can defy,
And claim its kindred with the sky.
Lo! where the earthen vessel lies!
Aloft the unbodied tenant flies.
The livid cheek, the sunken eye:
But sweet to think, corruption's worm
The living spirit can defy,
And claim its kindred with the sky.
Lo! where the earthen vessel lies!
Aloft the unbodied tenant flies.
We grieve to think, our eyes no more
That form, those features lov'd, shall trace:
But sweet it is from memory's store
To call each fondly-cherish'd grace,
And fold them in the heart's embrace.
No bliss 'mid worldly crowds is bred,
Like musing on the sainted dead!
That form, those features lov'd, shall trace:
But sweet it is from memory's store
To call each fondly-cherish'd grace,
And fold them in the heart's embrace.
No bliss 'mid worldly crowds is bred,
Like musing on the sainted dead!
We grieve to see expir'd the race
They ran, intent on works of love:
But sweet to think, no mixture base,
Which with their better nature strove,
Shall mar their virtuous deeds above.
Sin o'er their soul has lost his hold,
And left them with their earthly mould!
They ran, intent on works of love:
But sweet to think, no mixture base,
Which with their better nature strove,
Shall mar their virtuous deeds above.
Sin o'er their soul has lost his hold,
And left them with their earthly mould!
440
We grieve to know, that we must roam
Apart from them each wonted spot:
But sweet to think, that they a home
Have gain'd, a fair and goodly lot,
Enduring, and that changeth not.
And who that home of freedom there
Will with this prison-house compare?
Apart from them each wonted spot:
But sweet to think, that they a home
Have gain'd, a fair and goodly lot,
Enduring, and that changeth not.
And who that home of freedom there
Will with this prison-house compare?
'Tis grief to feel, that we behind
Sever'd from those we love remain:
'Tis joy to hope, that we shall find,
Exempt from sorrow, fear, and pain,
With them our dwelling-place again.
'Tis but like them to sink to rest,
With them to waken and be blest!
Sever'd from those we love remain:
'Tis joy to hope, that we shall find,
Exempt from sorrow, fear, and pain,
With them our dwelling-place again.
'Tis but like them to sink to rest,
With them to waken and be blest!
O Thou, who form'st thy creature's mind
With thoughts that chasten and that cheer,
Grant me to fill my space assign'd
For sojourning a stranger here
With holy hope and filial fear:
Fear to be banish'd far from Thee,
And hope thy face unveil'd to see!
With thoughts that chasten and that cheer,
Grant me to fill my space assign'd
For sojourning a stranger here
With holy hope and filial fear:
Fear to be banish'd far from Thee,
And hope thy face unveil'd to see!
There before Thee, the Great, the Good,
By angel myriads compass'd round,
“Made perfect” by the Saviour's blood,
With virtue cloth'd, with honour crown'd,
“The spirits of the just” are found:
There tears no more of sorrow start,
Pain flies the unmolested heart,
And life in bliss unites whom death no more shall part.
By angel myriads compass'd round,
“Made perfect” by the Saviour's blood,
With virtue cloth'd, with honour crown'd,
“The spirits of the just” are found:
There tears no more of sorrow start,
Pain flies the unmolested heart,
And life in bliss unites whom death no more shall part.
441
The spreading vapour. Conclusion of meditation. Its probable advantages
But see from marsh and lake and stream
Far off the expansive vapour steam!
Now step by step behold it creep
O'er mead and lawn! and soon 'twill steep
Forest and copse in moisture dim,
Each trickling stem, each dripping limb;
And shroud, what yet remains of day,
In curtain thick of bluish gray.
Far off the expansive vapour steam!
Now step by step behold it creep
O'er mead and lawn! and soon 'twill steep
Forest and copse in moisture dim,
Each trickling stem, each dripping limb;
And shroud, what yet remains of day,
In curtain thick of bluish gray.
No more! 'Tis well I now conclude
The garden walk, the musing mood,
And with the world's engagements cope.
Yet not presumptuous is the hope,
Nor vain, from such a source may flow
Good which no worldly toys bestow:—
That he, who thus sequester'd sees,
With nice regard the wint'ry trees
Their full-grown honours round them cast;
And listens to the sounding blast;
And pores upon the babbling brook;
And scans with curious ear and look,
Whate'er his pathway still surrounds
Of drooping nature's sights and sounds;
May aid November's gloomy day
To pass with livelier pace away,
Void of offence, of censure void,
In harmless, blameless peace enjoy'd:
But chief his vacant mind may use
On thoughts of import high to muse;
And draw from dead and senseless things,
From every scene, that nature brings
To charm him from her boundless store,
Lessons of life and holy lore!
The garden walk, the musing mood,
And with the world's engagements cope.
Yet not presumptuous is the hope,
Nor vain, from such a source may flow
Good which no worldly toys bestow:—
That he, who thus sequester'd sees,
With nice regard the wint'ry trees
Their full-grown honours round them cast;
And listens to the sounding blast;
And pores upon the babbling brook;
And scans with curious ear and look,
Whate'er his pathway still surrounds
Of drooping nature's sights and sounds;
May aid November's gloomy day
To pass with livelier pace away,
Void of offence, of censure void,
In harmless, blameless peace enjoy'd:
But chief his vacant mind may use
On thoughts of import high to muse;
And draw from dead and senseless things,
From every scene, that nature brings
To charm him from her boundless store,
Lessons of life and holy lore!
445
DECEMBER.
The month gloomy, but contemplation of it not unpleasing. Beautiful bright morning. Early frosts transient. A stormy night. Reflexions during the storm. Friends in danger. Act of gallantry and humanity in a young sailor
To bid farewell the parting year,
Yet one stage more! Through gloomy skies,
And miry ways, the journey lies;
Dimm'd are the landscape's features fair,
And mute the musick of the air.
Yet oft you see a beaming smile
December of his gloom beguile:
And still to them, who pierce below
The surface, and desire to know
From objects, that the sense employ,
A more than vulgar transient joy;
'Tis no unpleasing task to trace
The sadder traits of nature's face,
And in her frowns and tears to find
Food for the meditative mind.
Clear was the dawn, and fair to-day
The brightness of the morning ray.
And when the sun, all rosy red,
Lit yon south-eastern mountain's head,
Upon a prospect fair he shone,
Fair as he oft has shin'd upon.
The earth, outspread his beams before,
Was mantled with a vesture frore.
And brightened by his orient beam,
Earth with that vesture frore might seem
With tissued robe of silver dight,
And sown with sparkling gems of light.
While heav'n, which first uncurtain'd spread
Around those beams of rosy red,
Disparted then in fillets sheen
Of orange, pink, and golden green;
The heaven at length with cloudless blue,
Pure as the summer's midday hue,
And, casting back that blue again,
Beneath the interminable main,
Join'd in the vision of delight,
And “laughed to see that glorious sight. ”
The brightness of the morning ray.
And when the sun, all rosy red,
Lit yon south-eastern mountain's head,
Upon a prospect fair he shone,
Fair as he oft has shin'd upon.
The earth, outspread his beams before,
Was mantled with a vesture frore.
446
Earth with that vesture frore might seem
With tissued robe of silver dight,
And sown with sparkling gems of light.
While heav'n, which first uncurtain'd spread
Around those beams of rosy red,
Disparted then in fillets sheen
Of orange, pink, and golden green;
The heaven at length with cloudless blue,
Pure as the summer's midday hue,
And, casting back that blue again,
Beneath the interminable main,
Join'd in the vision of delight,
And “laughed to see that glorious sight. ”
The show is past. For like a show,
Emblem of all this world below
Can furnish, beauteous, bright, and gay,
Of short duration, swift decay,
Full oft is early winter's frost!
A pageant vain, a transient boast,
It glitters in the morning ray;
As with a breath, it melts away:
And, oft before that glorious sun
Has his meridian summit won,
O'ershadowing mists obscure his face;
Till that resplendent morn give place
To a dim noontide's sight deform,
An eve of gloom, a night of storm.
Emblem of all this world below
Can furnish, beauteous, bright, and gay,
Of short duration, swift decay,
Full oft is early winter's frost!
A pageant vain, a transient boast,
It glitters in the morning ray;
As with a breath, it melts away:
And, oft before that glorious sun
Has his meridian summit won,
O'ershadowing mists obscure his face;
Till that resplendent morn give place
To a dim noontide's sight deform,
An eve of gloom, a night of storm.
Yes, stormy is the night and drear!
Its rage you see not, but you hear
Fast and more fast the ceaseless rain,
Which clatters on the rattling pane
With side-long drift; with bubbling plash
Bursts sputtering from the creaking sash;
Sweeps round the walls, and beats aloof
Right downward on the slated roof:
Mixt with the gusty blast, that howls
And bellows thro' the chimney cowls,
Thro' passages, and quivering doors;
And nook and crevic'd chink explores
With whistle shrill, and long-drawn sigh,
And rush of pinions hurtling by!
Now like the crash of jangling bells,
It peals amain; and now it yells
Heart-stirring sounds: while fancy dreams
She hears commingled shouts and screams,
The noise of conflict in the air,
And now the wailings of despair,
And now disaster's bitter cry:
And listens, while, as in reply,
Sound from the wood responsive tones,
Ear-piercing shouts, and sullen moans!
Its rage you see not, but you hear
447
Which clatters on the rattling pane
With side-long drift; with bubbling plash
Bursts sputtering from the creaking sash;
Sweeps round the walls, and beats aloof
Right downward on the slated roof:
Mixt with the gusty blast, that howls
And bellows thro' the chimney cowls,
Thro' passages, and quivering doors;
And nook and crevic'd chink explores
With whistle shrill, and long-drawn sigh,
And rush of pinions hurtling by!
Now like the crash of jangling bells,
It peals amain; and now it yells
Heart-stirring sounds: while fancy dreams
She hears commingled shouts and screams,
The noise of conflict in the air,
And now the wailings of despair,
And now disaster's bitter cry:
And listens, while, as in reply,
Sound from the wood responsive tones,
Ear-piercing shouts, and sullen moans!
'Tis pleasant then the mind to keep
Suspended from the midnight sleep:
To gratulate our place of rest,
From ill secured, with comfort blest;
And turn a kindly thought on those,
Whom less indulgent lots expose,
On dismal waste, or ocean tide,
The pelting of the storm to bide.
And well it is the mind to raise
To Him, whose will the tempest sways;
To pray of Him, his shield to spread
O'er the defenceless, houseless head;
For blessings, that our home surround,
To breathe the silent thanks profound;
Then calmly, in his safeguard blest,
To “lay us down and take our rest !”
Suspended from the midnight sleep:
To gratulate our place of rest,
From ill secured, with comfort blest;
And turn a kindly thought on those,
Whom less indulgent lots expose,
On dismal waste, or ocean tide,
The pelting of the storm to bide.
And well it is the mind to raise
To Him, whose will the tempest sways;
448
O'er the defenceless, houseless head;
For blessings, that our home surround,
To breathe the silent thanks profound;
Then calmly, in his safeguard blest,
To “lay us down and take our rest !”
Yet oft may tenderer feelings rise
Of sweet domestick charities,
And prompt a warmer pray'r, if one,
A kinsman, or perchance a son,
By kindness as by blood allied,
Be tossing o'er the waters wide!
Of sweet domestick charities,
And prompt a warmer pray'r, if one,
A kinsman, or perchance a son,
By kindness as by blood allied,
Be tossing o'er the waters wide!
Such pray'r for thee, my gallant Boy,
Whose ways my daily thoughts employ,
But most my visions of the night,
When darkness broods and storms affright;
Such pray'r I tender then for thee!
That the Great Ruler of the sea
O'er the tempestuous ocean-tide
May be thy Keeper and thy Guide,
Preserve and give thee good success!
Mix'd with parental thankfulness,
That still his arm hath o'er thee held
In northern floods his guardian shield,
Nor less from danger's Proteus forms
Which haunt that southern “cape of storms,”
Australian, Magellanick seas,
Columbian isles and Cyclades:—
Chief in that peril, when the deep
Receiv'd thee from thy tow'r-like ship
Down plunging, resolute to save
Death's victim from the wintry wave.
And death had triumph'd, but that He,
Who bade thee to the rescue flee,
The flame he lighted in thy breast
With answering skill and vigour blest,
And from the tyrant's closing maw
Empower'd the sinking prey to draw!
A peril, whence, in days of old,
Rome, had she own'd thee, had inroll'd
Thy name with honour for the deed,
And crown'd thee with befitting meed:
For Rome her generous children knew
To recompense with honour due,
Him crowning with her noblest wreath,
Who sav'd a citizen from death!
Whose ways my daily thoughts employ,
But most my visions of the night,
When darkness broods and storms affright;
Such pray'r I tender then for thee!
That the Great Ruler of the sea
O'er the tempestuous ocean-tide
May be thy Keeper and thy Guide,
Preserve and give thee good success!
Mix'd with parental thankfulness,
That still his arm hath o'er thee held
In northern floods his guardian shield,
Nor less from danger's Proteus forms
Which haunt that southern “cape of storms,”
Australian, Magellanick seas,
Columbian isles and Cyclades:—
Chief in that peril, when the deep
Receiv'd thee from thy tow'r-like ship
449
Death's victim from the wintry wave.
And death had triumph'd, but that He,
Who bade thee to the rescue flee,
The flame he lighted in thy breast
With answering skill and vigour blest,
And from the tyrant's closing maw
Empower'd the sinking prey to draw!
A peril, whence, in days of old,
Rome, had she own'd thee, had inroll'd
Thy name with honour for the deed,
And crown'd thee with befitting meed:
For Rome her generous children knew
To recompense with honour due,
Him crowning with her noblest wreath,
Who sav'd a citizen from death!
But truce to thoughts like these! To God
“Who sits above the water-flood ,”
Be mine to lift the voice of praise!
Be mine the voice of pray'r to raise!
Now when the wind in fury raves,
And loud respond the midnight waves,
Where'er at duty's call, remote
O'er the broad sea 'tis thine to float,
Be mine the humble confidence,
Which in the hour of danger, whence
Alone come help and safety, knows,
The faithful spirit's calm repose !
“Who sits above the water-flood ,”
Be mine to lift the voice of praise!
Be mine the voice of pray'r to raise!
Now when the wind in fury raves,
And loud respond the midnight waves,
Where'er at duty's call, remote
O'er the broad sea 'tis thine to float,
Be mine the humble confidence,
Which in the hour of danger, whence
Alone come help and safety, knows,
The faithful spirit's calm repose !
The author desires to take this occasion of expressing to the Royal Humane Society a thankful acknowledgment for their approbation of the act noticed above, testified by their medal, “Ob civem servatum.” It was the opinion of persons conversant with the naval service, that the act would have led to the professional advancement of the young man, then a year past midshipman: especially as his gallant, humane, and meritorious conduct was duly reported and recommended by the Admiral of the station, and the Captain of the ship, to the proper authorities, by whom it was in words acknowledged. After almost three years, however, he is still in the same situation: having now had the honour of serving his Majesty, with a brief interruption, for near ten years, during which he has acquired a high character from every commanding officer under whom he has served.
450
Dark morning. Unbroken blackness. General inactivity of nature. The Cattle, &c. The Birds. Pigeons. Domestick Poultry. The Turkey. The Guinea fowl. The Peacock, his beauty and habits. Common Ducks. Parts adapted to stations
Scarce from the face of things withdrawn
Is night's black curtain. Darkness lowers
O'er the dim earth in ceaseless showers;
And hangs o'er heav'n a deathlike shroud,
One dense, unchang'd, unopening cloud.
Not, as in April's changeful day,
At intervals a sunny ray
Breaks cheerful thro' the floating rack:
But morn to noon an inky black
Frowns mournful on the wearied sight,
From noon to eve, from eve to night.
Nor field nor garden now invites
The rambling step to new delights.
Nature to man, and bird, and beast,
Proclaims a dull unwonted rest.
Aside the inactive plough is laid:
The adhesive mould the clotted spade
Defies. Beneath the sheltering hedge,
Beneath the stack's o'erhanging ledge,
451
Turn'd backward to the driving storm,
Crowd fearfully. Their guardians nigh
In folding cloak close mantled lie:
And nigh the dogs, still wont to share
The master's comforts as his care,
Beneath the well-known refuge creep,
Lull'd by the storm to transient sleep.
The birds, free nature's tenants, house,
As best they may, within the boughs:
While those, for man's convenience bred,
Couch cowering in their houshold shed.
As best they may, within the boughs:
While those, for man's convenience bred,
Couch cowering in their houshold shed.
Not now afar the flocking dove
Wheels his swift flight, tho' apt to rove,
And seek whate'er the cultur'd field
Or distant thrashing floor may yield.
Him the harsh time forbids to ply
The rapid wing, and thro' the sky
With smooth unerring motion float,
Close tenant of the crowded cote.
Wheels his swift flight, tho' apt to rove,
And seek whate'er the cultur'd field
Or distant thrashing floor may yield.
Him the harsh time forbids to ply
The rapid wing, and thro' the sky
With smooth unerring motion float,
Close tenant of the crowded cote.
Tho' with his shrill and cheerful horn
He early wak'd the slumbering morn,
Not now the scarlet-crested cock
Leads proudly forth the obedient flock;
Their nightly roost not yet forsook,
Or thronging in some covert nook.
He early wak'd the slumbering morn,
Not now the scarlet-crested cock
Leads proudly forth the obedient flock;
Their nightly roost not yet forsook,
Or thronging in some covert nook.
Not now the Turkey gives to view
His head and neck of red and blue;
And, as he stalks his dames around,
Sweeps with strong wing the grating ground.
His head and neck of red and blue;
And, as he stalks his dames around,
Sweeps with strong wing the grating ground.
452
Not now to pick the scatter'd seeds
His young the dark Pintado leads;
Whose spangles white unnumber'd lie,
Like stars throughout the dark blue sky.
His young the dark Pintado leads;
Whose spangles white unnumber'd lie,
Like stars throughout the dark blue sky.
Not now the Peacock proud displays
Abroad his many-mingled rays;
Of verdant gold his tufted crest,
His purple neck, and purple breast,
Which, slowly wav'd, their plumes indue
At every change with colours new.
Clos'd is his bright green length of train,
Which Flora's richest tints in vain
May strive to match: instinct with eyes,
Of gemlike lights, and rainbow dies.
See on the limb of elm-tree tall,
The barn's steep thatch, or paddock wall,
He now maintains his airy hold,
Nor deigns his dripping tail unfold.
But when the sun's reviving beams
Shall tempt him forth, with rival gleams
Again his gorgeous disk he'll spread;
And o'er his coronetted head
Incline the bending plumes, and move
Majestick 'mid the bright alcove.
Abroad his many-mingled rays;
Of verdant gold his tufted crest,
His purple neck, and purple breast,
Which, slowly wav'd, their plumes indue
At every change with colours new.
Clos'd is his bright green length of train,
Which Flora's richest tints in vain
May strive to match: instinct with eyes,
Of gemlike lights, and rainbow dies.
See on the limb of elm-tree tall,
The barn's steep thatch, or paddock wall,
He now maintains his airy hold,
Nor deigns his dripping tail unfold.
But when the sun's reviving beams
Shall tempt him forth, with rival gleams
Again his gorgeous disk he'll spread;
And o'er his coronetted head
Incline the bending plumes, and move
Majestick 'mid the bright alcove.
Yet are there some, who pleas'd employ
The time with a more sprightly joy,
Birds of the webb'd and palmate feet!
They with hoarse cries of welcome greet,
Rejoicing in their wet domain,
The floods of still descending rain:
High o'er their backs with fluttering wing,
And splashing bill, the moisture fling;
Or round and round disporting sail;
Or downward, with inverted tail,
Plunge deep, the head and neck to lave,
And revel in the dimpled wave.
The time with a more sprightly joy,
Birds of the webb'd and palmate feet!
They with hoarse cries of welcome greet,
Rejoicing in their wet domain,
The floods of still descending rain:
High o'er their backs with fluttering wing,
And splashing bill, the moisture fling;
453
Or downward, with inverted tail,
Plunge deep, the head and neck to lave,
And revel in the dimpled wave.
To each his pleasures, as assign'd
By Him, who each created kind
Gave parts adapted to his race,
And each his own appropriate place:—
The pinion strong and light and fleet,
Or sinewy legs, or oarlike feet,
The heaven's expanded face to skim,
To walk the earth, the flood to swim.—
To all extends his bounty's plan,
To bird and beast, but most to man!
By Him, who each created kind
Gave parts adapted to his race,
And each his own appropriate place:—
The pinion strong and light and fleet,
Or sinewy legs, or oarlike feet,
The heaven's expanded face to skim,
To walk the earth, the flood to swim.—
To all extends his bounty's plan,
To bird and beast, but most to man!
Dreariness of the season, how best relieved. The mountain torrent. The garden brook. The Meadows overflowed. The expanded Lake. The Flood. All things equally easy to Omnipotence. A calm morning. Appearances after the storm. Darkness of the landscape. All objects partake of the general gloominess
Ah! drear is now the season's pow'r,
And dull the lazy-footed hour,
To them whose minds the sway confess
Of apathetick listlessness;
Nor their's the body's boon employ,
Nor their's the mind's sublimer joy.
And dull the lazy-footed hour,
To them whose minds the sway confess
Of apathetick listlessness;
Nor their's the body's boon employ,
Nor their's the mind's sublimer joy.
O, now be mine, tho' pent at home,
In thought o'er distant climes to roam;
Or summon round my lonely hearth
The wise and learned of the earth;
Still better pleas'd, such converse there,
Combin'd with those I love, to share!
Mine through the present minute's space,
The lore of bygone times to trace,
In never-dying records shown;
And make the ages past my own!
Be mine, shut out from rural views,
To meditate the rural Muse;
Or, by the pen's or pencil's aid,
Survey before my sight portray'd
By mimick art kind nature's store;
Her universal works explore;
And thence to nature's Author look,
Or mark Him in his written book!
Great in his works, but still more great
Is He, and in his word, complete:
Those his great pow'r and godhead prove;
This loud proclaims that “God is love!”
In thought o'er distant climes to roam;
Or summon round my lonely hearth
The wise and learned of the earth;
Still better pleas'd, such converse there,
Combin'd with those I love, to share!
Mine through the present minute's space,
The lore of bygone times to trace,
In never-dying records shown;
And make the ages past my own!
454
To meditate the rural Muse;
Or, by the pen's or pencil's aid,
Survey before my sight portray'd
By mimick art kind nature's store;
Her universal works explore;
And thence to nature's Author look,
Or mark Him in his written book!
Great in his works, but still more great
Is He, and in his word, complete:
Those his great pow'r and godhead prove;
This loud proclaims that “God is love!”
To him, who thus the gloom can cheer,
No season's dull, no weather drear.
But still abroad their sway maintain
No season's dull, no weather drear.
The beating wind, the pouring rain.
And see, 'tis mark'd, that heathy hill,
With many a strange unwonted rill;
A brawler, full of rage and sound,
Scattering its turbid froth around;
Made no perennial course to hold,
And feed the vegetative mould;
But such as troublous times produce,
For wild o'erflowing floods a sluice,
Which dangerous less, less straitly pent,
Here find a salutary vent:
In days serene and calm unknown,
'Tis here to-day, to-morrow gone!
Now too, the garden's little pride,
Wont with clear stream and calm to glide,
And bathe the trees' o'er-arching roots,
And paint the flowers, mature the fruits;
The brook, that babbling crept along,
Scarce heard amid the blackbird's song,
By night's, by day's, swift torrents swell'd,
With still augmenting force propell'd,
Down the slope fall impetuous pours
His restless waves, and foams, and roars.
Whate'er of late obstruction kept
His course aback, before it swept,
Or leafy heap, or transverse bough,
Is gone; as forth it passes now
In one diffuse unbroken stream,
Which swelling meets the margin's brim.
Till, to a little river grown,
It scorns its wonted banks to own;
And, more and more uplifted, spreads
Its waters o'er the subject meads:—
Where evening saw the cattle graze,
Disclosing to the morrow's gaze,
What may to stranger eyes appear,
No meadow, but a fish-fraught mere.
While, o'er the necks of severing land,
The flood the fish-fraught meres expand;
And gathering, unrestrained and free,
Form thro' the vale a midland sea.
Wont with clear stream and calm to glide,
455
And paint the flowers, mature the fruits;
The brook, that babbling crept along,
Scarce heard amid the blackbird's song,
By night's, by day's, swift torrents swell'd,
With still augmenting force propell'd,
Down the slope fall impetuous pours
His restless waves, and foams, and roars.
Whate'er of late obstruction kept
His course aback, before it swept,
Or leafy heap, or transverse bough,
Is gone; as forth it passes now
In one diffuse unbroken stream,
Which swelling meets the margin's brim.
Till, to a little river grown,
It scorns its wonted banks to own;
And, more and more uplifted, spreads
Its waters o'er the subject meads:—
Where evening saw the cattle graze,
Disclosing to the morrow's gaze,
What may to stranger eyes appear,
No meadow, but a fish-fraught mere.
While, o'er the necks of severing land,
The flood the fish-fraught meres expand;
And gathering, unrestrained and free,
Form thro' the vale a midland sea.
Thus, if the venturous Muse may dare
Small things with greatest to compare,
Above the “outstanding earth ” of old
Were her collected waters roll'd,
Join'd with the waters from the sky;
And into flood transformed “the dry.”
But what is great, and what is small,
To Him who made and governs all?
Alike to Him, a cloke to spread
Of water o'er the pastur'd mead;
Or ope “heaven's floodgates ,” and set free
O'er the broad earth the boundless sea.
He bids the clouds their stores expand,
And metes the waters in his hand !
Small things with greatest to compare,
Above the “outstanding earth ” of old
Were her collected waters roll'd,
456
And into flood transformed “the dry.”
But what is great, and what is small,
To Him who made and governs all?
Alike to Him, a cloke to spread
Of water o'er the pastur'd mead;
Or ope “heaven's floodgates ,” and set free
O'er the broad earth the boundless sea.
He bids the clouds their stores expand,
And metes the waters in his hand !
Another night! In calm repose
The heav'ns again their windows close.
Again the peaceful brook has found
On either hand its wonted bound:
Where, a thin vein, the waters run,
Quick glancing to the morning sun,
And broider each uncover'd brim
Bright sparkling with a silver rim.
As sinks the slow subsiding surge,
Again the unburden'd meads emerge;
But still the slime and oozy mud
Mark with fresh stains the vanished flood:
Not pleasing to the idle eye;
Yet there the thoughtful mind may spy,
In store beneath the unsightly slime,
The promise of the early prime,
Bright fields with mantle fresh array'd,
The painted flower, the verdant blade!
The heav'ns again their windows close.
Again the peaceful brook has found
On either hand its wonted bound:
Where, a thin vein, the waters run,
Quick glancing to the morning sun,
And broider each uncover'd brim
Bright sparkling with a silver rim.
As sinks the slow subsiding surge,
Again the unburden'd meads emerge;
But still the slime and oozy mud
Mark with fresh stains the vanished flood:
Not pleasing to the idle eye;
Yet there the thoughtful mind may spy,
In store beneath the unsightly slime,
The promise of the early prime,
Bright fields with mantle fresh array'd,
The painted flower, the verdant blade!
457
How scant amid the wintry scene
Is joy's bright tint, the cheerful green!
The brush another Pow'r has caught,
The Genius he of solemn thought;
And all the landscape's face endues
With varied shades of sober hues;
O'er hill and valley, rise and fall,
In mingled patches, dismal all.
All but the sprouting wheat, which shows
Its tender blades in light green rows;
Or where, by peasant's straw-thatched cot,
Peeps forth a little garden plot;
Or their fresh tints the turnips keep,
Fit pasture for the nibbling sheep.
Is joy's bright tint, the cheerful green!
The brush another Pow'r has caught,
The Genius he of solemn thought;
And all the landscape's face endues
With varied shades of sober hues;
O'er hill and valley, rise and fall,
In mingled patches, dismal all.
All but the sprouting wheat, which shows
Its tender blades in light green rows;
Or where, by peasant's straw-thatched cot,
Peeps forth a little garden plot;
Or their fresh tints the turnips keep,
Fit pasture for the nibbling sheep.
Dark is the hill with furrow'd brow,
Fresh turn'd beneath the riving plough.
Stripp'd of each straggling bramble bush,
Of tussock'd grass, and spiky rush,
All dark, and darkly spotted o'er
With turf-stacks, is the peaty moor.
Dark is the mountain, forest-crown'd;
The mantling copse; the hedgerow bound.
All brown, no more with pendants graced
Purple or pink, the heath-clad waste.
Brown, of its waving honours shorn,
The stubble of the golden corn.
With scant and withered herbage brown
The pastures of the upland down.
With gleams of fading verdure mixt,
Light shades of yellowish brown betwixt
Invest the lawn, whose wavy sweep
Is spotted with the fleecy sheep;
But darker still, and day by day
More dismal, shows its dun array.
Ev'n meads, of late so fresh and fair,
The winter's dusky livery wear;
Save where small patches intervene
Of lighter tint, or stripes of green
Mark where the limpid waters pass
In runnels through the living grass.
Like acts of kindness, which dispense
Refreshment to the languid sense,
And of their passage leave a trace
Imprinted on the cheerful face.
Fresh turn'd beneath the riving plough.
Stripp'd of each straggling bramble bush,
Of tussock'd grass, and spiky rush,
All dark, and darkly spotted o'er
With turf-stacks, is the peaty moor.
Dark is the mountain, forest-crown'd;
The mantling copse; the hedgerow bound.
All brown, no more with pendants graced
Purple or pink, the heath-clad waste.
Brown, of its waving honours shorn,
The stubble of the golden corn.
With scant and withered herbage brown
The pastures of the upland down.
With gleams of fading verdure mixt,
Light shades of yellowish brown betwixt
Invest the lawn, whose wavy sweep
Is spotted with the fleecy sheep;
458
More dismal, shows its dun array.
Ev'n meads, of late so fresh and fair,
The winter's dusky livery wear;
Save where small patches intervene
Of lighter tint, or stripes of green
Mark where the limpid waters pass
In runnels through the living grass.
Like acts of kindness, which dispense
Refreshment to the languid sense,
And of their passage leave a trace
Imprinted on the cheerful face.
Changeableness of the weather. A variable day. A bright morning, followed by a stormy afternoon. A dark morning, followed by a clear afternoon. Fair but deceptive
How fitful is the season's power,
So prone to change, that scarce a day
Glides with consistent course away!
Now come by turns, from morn to night,
Masses of gloom, and glares of light;
Thin streaked clouds, and skies between
Of watry pale, or azure sheen;
The tranquil air, the awaken'd gale,
Borne on its wings the rushing hail;
The sleety show'r, that, as it falls,
Stripes the bright space beyond; the squalls,
That come and go with hasty fit;
Dark piles, with partial sunshine lit;
Resplendent radiance, murky gleams,
Thick rolling fogs, and misty steams.
459
Night's curtains; like transparent gauze,
Thin floating films suspended fly;
Red flushes tinge the morning sky,
And show, their partial openings through,
Imperfect gleams of pallid blue.
The vapours melt and disappear:
And o'er the vaulted hemisphere,
Behold, no spot or speck is seen,
To violate the pure serene,
Where his slope course begins to hold
On heaven's low arch the orb of gold.
Anon, thick gloom usurps the sway
Triumphant o'er the vanquish'd day:
Clouds, piled on gathering clouds, infold,
Impervious depth, that orb of gold;
And waft him to his early bower,
'Mid piping blasts, and sleety shower.
And now, o'ercast the morning lowers,
With clouds, and blasts, and sleety showers;
Dark is the heav'n's cerulean arch,
Where the great sun begins his march
In twilight dun: his rising globe
All muffled in a funeral robe;
Or, from behind a misty veil
Of drizzling moisture, glimmering pale;
Or overlaid, as with a crust,
Deep, dark, and red, of bloody rust.
Ev'n like the moon, eclips'd and dim,
When o'er her face from rim to rim
The earth's obstructing form has laid
A smokelike, dense, and dingy shade,
While not a cloud nor vapour mars
The brightness of the silver stars.
Anon, attain'd the midmost zone,
Rain, mist, and fog aside are thrown;
And, westering as his orb declines,
Forth with unsullied light he shines.
Thus the good man, whose path around
A morn of gloom and tempest frown'd,
Shines forth at last, erewhile distrest,
And sinks in peace and joy to rest.
With clouds, and blasts, and sleety showers;
Dark is the heav'n's cerulean arch,
Where the great sun begins his march
In twilight dun: his rising globe
All muffled in a funeral robe;
Or, from behind a misty veil
Of drizzling moisture, glimmering pale;
Or overlaid, as with a crust,
Deep, dark, and red, of bloody rust.
Ev'n like the moon, eclips'd and dim,
When o'er her face from rim to rim
460
A smokelike, dense, and dingy shade,
While not a cloud nor vapour mars
The brightness of the silver stars.
Anon, attain'd the midmost zone,
Rain, mist, and fog aside are thrown;
And, westering as his orb declines,
Forth with unsullied light he shines.
Thus the good man, whose path around
A morn of gloom and tempest frown'd,
Shines forth at last, erewhile distrest,
And sinks in peace and joy to rest.
'Tis pleasant then, perhaps the more
'Mid general waste, to see him pour
On all around his glory's streams;
In a full flood of golden gleams
As richly, as profusely dight,
And o'er a vault as pure and bright,
As when his furthest goal is won:
Mid winter's skies a summer sun.
Summer in aspect and in form,
But void of genial radiance warm,
Trust not too far the flattering ray!
He smiles, but trusted will betray,
Who fondly on his smile relies,
To chilling blasts and drenching skies!
'Mid general waste, to see him pour
On all around his glory's streams;
In a full flood of golden gleams
As richly, as profusely dight,
And o'er a vault as pure and bright,
As when his furthest goal is won:
Mid winter's skies a summer sun.
Summer in aspect and in form,
But void of genial radiance warm,
Trust not too far the flattering ray!
He smiles, but trusted will betray,
Who fondly on his smile relies,
To chilling blasts and drenching skies!
Barometer indicating fair weather. The winter favourable for astronomy. Principal Constellations visible. Sight of the Constellations, Milky Way, &c., its magnificence. The Planets. Proper effect of the spectacle
But if, slow-mounting day by day
The fluid silver hold its way,
And still the convex column show
Progressive still the weight below;
Hope then at length the firmer air
Aloft th' incumbent clouds' will bear.
The fluid silver hold its way,
And still the convex column show
Progressive still the weight below;
461
Aloft th' incumbent clouds' will bear.
Then when the sun departed yields
To paler lamps the etherial fields,
'Tis pleasant still, but ah! beware
The perils of the evening air!
'Tis pleasant, with inquiring look,
To read in God's celestial book,
A passing page, in winter most
Illumin'd with the starry host;
And those resplendent globes to note;
Which thro' yon sea of ether float.
From those which westward hasten down,
The jewels in the Boreal crown;
Thro' the bright lyre, and overhead
The swan with plumed wings outspread,
Chain'd to her rock that maiden fair,
And Perseus' hook, and Gorgon's hair,
Betwixt the silver-horned Ram,
And with the Kids their brighter Dam:
To those, that, on the eastern verge
Of heav'n, from ocean's gulph emerge,
The sev'n-fold sister lights, that deck
The Bull, and glisten on his neck,
But dare not all concenter'd vie
In brilliance with his sparkling eye;
And him, who rears his ample size,
To spread along the midnight skies
With gems his legs and shoulders graced,
His studded sword, and belted waist.
Nor want there those, that pour to north,
To south, their rival lustre forth:
Here the keen Eagle's upright sign,
And Dolphin's fourfold diamond, shine,
With that poetick horse; and there
The lady of the imperial chair,
And Cepheus' kingly crown, and roll'd
Around in many an ample fold
The crested Dragon's length of train;
And sweeping o'er the subject main,
And circling round the polar star
Itself unmov'd, the northern car.
To paler lamps the etherial fields,
'Tis pleasant still, but ah! beware
The perils of the evening air!
'Tis pleasant, with inquiring look,
To read in God's celestial book,
A passing page, in winter most
Illumin'd with the starry host;
And those resplendent globes to note;
Which thro' yon sea of ether float.
From those which westward hasten down,
The jewels in the Boreal crown;
Thro' the bright lyre, and overhead
The swan with plumed wings outspread,
Chain'd to her rock that maiden fair,
And Perseus' hook, and Gorgon's hair,
Betwixt the silver-horned Ram,
And with the Kids their brighter Dam:
To those, that, on the eastern verge
Of heav'n, from ocean's gulph emerge,
The sev'n-fold sister lights, that deck
The Bull, and glisten on his neck,
But dare not all concenter'd vie
In brilliance with his sparkling eye;
And him, who rears his ample size,
To spread along the midnight skies
With gems his legs and shoulders graced,
His studded sword, and belted waist.
Nor want there those, that pour to north,
To south, their rival lustre forth:
462
And Dolphin's fourfold diamond, shine,
With that poetick horse; and there
The lady of the imperial chair,
And Cepheus' kingly crown, and roll'd
Around in many an ample fold
The crested Dragon's length of train;
And sweeping o'er the subject main,
And circling round the polar star
Itself unmov'd, the northern car.
All these, and more, which art combines
For memory's aid in fancied signs:—
For, studious but to lead the eye
Thro' the seen wonders of the sky,
To mete of each, if scann'd aright,
The distance, bulk, and use, and light,
What moons round each revolve, what hue
Of changeful tint may each imbue,
I leave, by science' votaries done;
Each twinkling star a central sun,
A sun, to which could we compare
Our own, 'twere but a twinkling star:—
But these, as breaking on the sight,
They one by one unveil their light,
And thickly stud the evening robe,
Which winter hangs around the globe;
These starry signs; that milk-white band,
Wherewith the heavenly vault is spann'd,
Of lights so small, they mock the sight,
So bright, they shine with lustre white,
So thick, in such profusion sown,
They seem but one unbroken zone;
How do they fill the pensive sense
With thoughts of heav'n's magnificence!
Nor less those wandering fires, that rise
For memory's aid in fancied signs:—
For, studious but to lead the eye
Thro' the seen wonders of the sky,
To mete of each, if scann'd aright,
The distance, bulk, and use, and light,
What moons round each revolve, what hue
Of changeful tint may each imbue,
I leave, by science' votaries done;
Each twinkling star a central sun,
A sun, to which could we compare
Our own, 'twere but a twinkling star:—
But these, as breaking on the sight,
They one by one unveil their light,
And thickly stud the evening robe,
Which winter hangs around the globe;
These starry signs; that milk-white band,
Wherewith the heavenly vault is spann'd,
Of lights so small, they mock the sight,
So bright, they shine with lustre white,
So thick, in such profusion sown,
They seem but one unbroken zone;
463
With thoughts of heav'n's magnificence!
More brilliant to our earthly eyes,
As their unvaried course they go,
And but with borrow'd lustre glow.
If now the star of eve display
Her silver globe, of heav'n's array
Foremost and best: or Mars o'erspread
His dusky orb with sanguine red:
Or he of ampler disk, his boast
His own attendant four-fold host:
Or if with full-orb'd face the moon,
Now riding in her highest noon,
Reign empress, and her path pursue
In brightness 'mid the spotless blue.
O, may the sight of yon bright vault
My mind both humble and exalt!
Prompt me, with thoughts chastis'd to know
How feeble is my state, and low,
Yet not by Him of naught esteem'd,
Who made, preserv'd me, and redeem'd!
Prompt me, aloft to Him to soar,
And, more admir'd, to love him more;
Who made these creatures, as they are,
So great, so glorious, and so fair;
Yet deigns his lower works to scan,
And, most of all, to think of man!
464
Calmness and stillness of the air. Distant sounds, foreboding frost. A frosty morning. Congealed dew. Appearances on the windows: on the window-frames, cornices, &c.: on the hedges, copses, &c.
It soothes the hearing, as the eye,
The calmness of this cloudless sky.
And if, as taught by sages old,
Not without song their course they hold,
'Tis now might take the charmed ears
That musick of the rolling spheres.
The calmness of this cloudless sky.
And if, as taught by sages old,
Not without song their course they hold,
'Tis now might take the charmed ears
That musick of the rolling spheres.
Breathes not a breath: nor sound is hear
At hand, unless of lonely bird,
Which gently warns us, we molest
His sleep, then sinks again to rest.
At hand, unless of lonely bird,
Which gently warns us, we molest
His sleep, then sinks again to rest.
But, hark! how plainly sounds aloof
The brisk tread of the horse's hoof;
Or the belated peasant's shoon,
Home hastening by the evening moon;
Or wild curlew's alternate call
From the salt strand; or distant fall
Of water; or the sullen roar
Of billows raking on the shore;
Or baying dog from grange afar;
Or rattle of the wheeled car;
As echo from the harden'd ground
Wafts thro' the elastick air the sound,
Betokening to the curious ear
The reign of frost approaching near.
The brisk tread of the horse's hoof;
Or the belated peasant's shoon,
Home hastening by the evening moon;
Or wild curlew's alternate call
From the salt strand; or distant fall
Of water; or the sullen roar
Of billows raking on the shore;
Or baying dog from grange afar;
Or rattle of the wheeled car;
As echo from the harden'd ground
Wafts thro' the elastick air the sound,
Betokening to the curious ear
The reign of frost approaching near.
The morning dawns, and gives to view
By certain signs the token true.
By certain signs the token true.
Forth from his Boreal mountain hold,
The Spirit of congealing cold,
Where wrapt in lonely state he dwells,
'Mid frozen seas, and snowclad fells,
And everlasting ice-built piles,
Has wing'd his way to Britain's isles
On native gales: and, while we slept,
With soft and gelid pinion swept,
Light as the rapid swallows skim,
Each crisped water's crackling brim,
Pool, freshet, brook; and, as he flew,
Caught, ere it fell, the vapoury dew,
And hung the grass, the boughs, the leaves,
Each loftier roof's projecting eaves,
Each cottage thatch, each window'd bower,
With symptoms of his magick power.
The Spirit of congealing cold,
Where wrapt in lonely state he dwells,
'Mid frozen seas, and snowclad fells,
465
Has wing'd his way to Britain's isles
On native gales: and, while we slept,
With soft and gelid pinion swept,
Light as the rapid swallows skim,
Each crisped water's crackling brim,
Pool, freshet, brook; and, as he flew,
Caught, ere it fell, the vapoury dew,
And hung the grass, the boughs, the leaves,
Each loftier roof's projecting eaves,
Each cottage thatch, each window'd bower,
With symptoms of his magick power.
He breathes: and lo! are brought to pass
Strange wonders on the pictured glass,
Sportive and strange: that fancy's eye,
In that romantick imagery,
Amus'd may see, or think it sees,
The portraiture of plants and trees,
Which o'er some rugged rock incline;
The feather'd fern, the branching pine;
Here scatter'd tufts of sprouting moss,
Here wreaths which mimick flow'rs emboss,
Or yet unfolded buds; and there
Loose crests of undulating hair,
Plumes such as grace the soaring crane,
The ostrich' wing, the peacock's train.
Strange wonders on the pictured glass,
Sportive and strange: that fancy's eye,
In that romantick imagery,
Amus'd may see, or think it sees,
The portraiture of plants and trees,
Which o'er some rugged rock incline;
The feather'd fern, the branching pine;
Here scatter'd tufts of sprouting moss,
Here wreaths which mimick flow'rs emboss,
Or yet unfolded buds; and there
Loose crests of undulating hair,
Plumes such as grace the soaring crane,
The ostrich' wing, the peacock's train.
Along each window's transverse edge,
Along the roof's o'erhanging ledge,
And garden wall, whose bevell'd cope
Slants inward with descending slope,
Constrain'd its trickling course to stop
By hand unseen, the liquid drop
In many a lucid row depends;
And gathering more and more extends
Its taper length, as bright and clear
As pendant in a lady's ear.
Along the roof's o'erhanging ledge,
And garden wall, whose bevell'd cope
Slants inward with descending slope,
Constrain'd its trickling course to stop
By hand unseen, the liquid drop
466
And gathering more and more extends
Its taper length, as bright and clear
As pendant in a lady's ear.
O'er the bare hedge and coppice brown,
On shelter'd bank, and open down,
Or where the garden's living skreen
Of laurel shows its pleasant green;
The leaves, the twigs, the bending stems
Of tender herbage shine with gems
Of solid pearl; or what may seem,
As, waving in the orient beam
They round their sparkling rays diffuse
Of changeful light and varied hues,
The sea-green beryl's brilliant shine,
Or diamond from Golconda's mine.
On shelter'd bank, and open down,
Or where the garden's living skreen
Of laurel shows its pleasant green;
The leaves, the twigs, the bending stems
Of tender herbage shine with gems
Of solid pearl; or what may seem,
As, waving in the orient beam
They round their sparkling rays diffuse
Of changeful light and varied hues,
The sea-green beryl's brilliant shine,
Or diamond from Golconda's mine.
The winter day's walk. Its delightfulness. The mountain Brook. The Pool. The Wood. The Avenue. Its likeness to a Cathedral. Lincoln, York, Salisbury, Winchester Cathedral. Winchester College
The village road, the grassy sward;
Climb we the winding path, that guides
Around the mountain's craggy sides;
Roam the wide down, the breezy heath,
And freshness, health, and gladness breathe.
What than this wintry scene more fair?
What purer than this wintry air,
The frame to strengthen, and impart
New spirit to the buoyant heart?
And fail we not aside to look
In passing on the mountain brook,
467
By nature with the wild cascade.
Here, where the channel'd waters glide
Along the vale, on either side
Is edg'd the green o'erhanging grass
With fringe of silver-seeming glass.
Here, where o'er dam, or mill-wheel steep,
Amass'd the plunging waters leap,
Or ere the scatter'd spray escapes,
'Tis caught, and moulded into shapes
Fantastick by the wizard Frost:
Thin splinters, by each other crost,
And crusting o'er the slippery stones;
Ascending spires, inverted cones,
Pellucid store of crystal spars
Concrete, and radiated stars.
Then, where the spacious pool expands,
A pleasure new the sight demands,
As o'er the level smooth we pace
With feet unwet; and thro' its face
Translucent mark the bending reed
Beneath, and every floating weed,
And every pebbly stone below;
Clear as imbedded insects show,
Or leaves, within the amber tear,
Or as the Alpine crystal clear.
Nor fail we thro' the wood to stray,
Now that each branch, and bough, and spray,
Is cloth'd with rime of moisture frore:—
So thickly is that mantle hoar
Of rich embroidery o'er them thrown,
They seem almost transform'd to stone.
Chief in that long-drawn avenue,
Where those columnar trees you view
In ranks to answering trees oppos'd,
And overhead their branches clos'd
To form a fretted arch above;
Fancy might deem the pillar'd grove,
With arch, and fret, and groinings graced,
And nature's richest tracery laced,
A solemn temple fit to raise
High anthems to the Maker's praise.
Now that each branch, and bough, and spray,
Is cloth'd with rime of moisture frore:—
So thickly is that mantle hoar
468
They seem almost transform'd to stone.
Chief in that long-drawn avenue,
Where those columnar trees you view
In ranks to answering trees oppos'd,
And overhead their branches clos'd
To form a fretted arch above;
Fancy might deem the pillar'd grove,
With arch, and fret, and groinings graced,
And nature's richest tracery laced,
A solemn temple fit to raise
High anthems to the Maker's praise.
Such temples, art's sublimest work,
Majestick Lincoln, stately York,
Are ye! And thou of simpler mien,
Whose matchless spire, ascending seen
Far o'er that Druid-hallow'd plain,
Turns to the sun its gilded vane!
And such, whose long perspective range
Of mullion'd lights, with interchange
Of storied buttress, greets the sight
Of traveller from yon western height,
Thou, Winton!—Oft thy antique pile,
Thy length of nave, and high-roof'd aisle,
Long since with boyish step I paced;
And window, shrine, and pillar traced
With boyish eye.—Now far away
In age to thee the debt I pay
Of memory for my early time:
When in my boyhood's opening prime
That pinnacled and window'd tower,
Which crowns fair learnign's classick bower,
And shares with thee the rival claim
Of interest in thy Wykeham's name,
Enroll'd me in its stoled train;
And, stranger yet to care and pain,
Youth, health, and sport my footsteps led
By Itchin's banks, round Catherine's head.
Ev'n then, as now, I lov'd to share
The freshness of the frosty air,
Pleas'd to explore the incrusted wood,
Upland, and brook, and frozen flood;
But little apt, (for graver themes
Accord but ill with school-boys' dreams,)
Too little apt, with pleasure sought
To mingle heart-improving thought,
And, bee-like, from the fragrant flower
Cull sweets of salutary power!
Majestick Lincoln, stately York,
Are ye! And thou of simpler mien,
Whose matchless spire, ascending seen
Far o'er that Druid-hallow'd plain,
Turns to the sun its gilded vane!
And such, whose long perspective range
Of mullion'd lights, with interchange
Of storied buttress, greets the sight
Of traveller from yon western height,
Thou, Winton!—Oft thy antique pile,
Thy length of nave, and high-roof'd aisle,
Long since with boyish step I paced;
And window, shrine, and pillar traced
With boyish eye.—Now far away
In age to thee the debt I pay
Of memory for my early time:
When in my boyhood's opening prime
That pinnacled and window'd tower,
Which crowns fair learnign's classick bower,
469
Of interest in thy Wykeham's name,
Enroll'd me in its stoled train;
And, stranger yet to care and pain,
Youth, health, and sport my footsteps led
By Itchin's banks, round Catherine's head.
Ev'n then, as now, I lov'd to share
The freshness of the frosty air,
Pleas'd to explore the incrusted wood,
Upland, and brook, and frozen flood;
But little apt, (for graver themes
Accord but ill with school-boys' dreams,)
Too little apt, with pleasure sought
To mingle heart-improving thought,
And, bee-like, from the fragrant flower
Cull sweets of salutary power!
The Northern Lights. Their brilliancy and various shapes. Accompanying sounds. Superstitious fears concerning them. Effects of natural causes. How to be contemplated
Thus wrapt in musing as I roam,
The star of evening lights me home.
And now perchance may charm the eye
That marvel of the wintry sky,
Which the cold regions of the north
Pour with refulgent brightness forth,
Dark winter's child, of midnight born,
But lustrous as the summer morn.
Behold and wonder! Now the gleams
Of light in undulating streams
Quick-darting, quivering, sparkling, spread,
Streaking the blue with fiery red.
And now athwart heav'n's cope they go,
And span it with a burning bow,
From earth's west side to the eastern ridge
Built, zenith-ways, a flaming bridge.
And now with upward course aspire
Pillars and pyramids of fire;
From the dark clouds upshooting rays,
Like flames that from the furnace blaze;
And signs of battle in the air,
Spears as of blood, and shafts of war!
The star of evening lights me home.
And now perchance may charm the eye
That marvel of the wintry sky,
Which the cold regions of the north
Pour with refulgent brightness forth,
Dark winter's child, of midnight born,
But lustrous as the summer morn.
Behold and wonder! Now the gleams
Of light in undulating streams
Quick-darting, quivering, sparkling, spread,
Streaking the blue with fiery red.
And now athwart heav'n's cope they go,
And span it with a burning bow,
470
Built, zenith-ways, a flaming bridge.
And now with upward course aspire
Pillars and pyramids of fire;
From the dark clouds upshooting rays,
Like flames that from the furnace blaze;
And signs of battle in the air,
Spears as of blood, and shafts of war!
Nor want there 'mid the flashing stream,
Sounds which those warlike sights beseem:—
The noise of conflict, hurtling high;
The clang of arms; the trumpet's cry;
The war-steeds rushing to the fight;
The whistling of the arrowy flight;
Thick falling shafts, like dashing hail;
And banners rustling in the gale.
Sounds which those warlike sights beseem:—
The noise of conflict, hurtling high;
The clang of arms; the trumpet's cry;
The war-steeds rushing to the fight;
The whistling of the arrowy flight;
Thick falling shafts, like dashing hail;
And banners rustling in the gale.
Such signs with wonder, rais'd to awe
And thrilling fear, our fathers saw,
And portents deem'd of ills to come,
Impending wars and monarchs' doom
Presaging!—More instructed we
Symptoms of no strange portents see,
But of that hidden pow'r, that lies
Conceal'd in nature's mysteries;
But comes, obedient to her call,
The wonder and delight of all,
With eyes upon her works to gaze,
With hearts to feel, and tongues to praise.
Unwise, unless in nature's laws
We own and laud th' ordaining Cause,
Whose voice his future creatures heard,
Which gave them being, and conferr'd
On each, in his creative hour,
The guiding rule, the obsequious pow'r:
Who form'd the light, and bade it know
His sovereign will, that it might go,
And, compassing the vaulted sphere,
Return and say, “Behold me here !”
And thrilling fear, our fathers saw,
And portents deem'd of ills to come,
Impending wars and monarchs' doom
Presaging!—More instructed we
Symptoms of no strange portents see,
But of that hidden pow'r, that lies
Conceal'd in nature's mysteries;
But comes, obedient to her call,
The wonder and delight of all,
With eyes upon her works to gaze,
With hearts to feel, and tongues to praise.
Unwise, unless in nature's laws
We own and laud th' ordaining Cause,
Whose voice his future creatures heard,
Which gave them being, and conferr'd
471
The guiding rule, the obsequious pow'r:
Who form'd the light, and bade it know
His sovereign will, that it might go,
And, compassing the vaulted sphere,
Return and say, “Behold me here !”
Northern Lights forerunners of stormy weather. Snow on the mountains. Danger of elevated stations. Happiness of the lowly. Desolation more general. The Snow storm. Unceasing and thick. Descent of the flakes. Their appearance on the ground. Prominent objects at first discernible. Soon undistinguished. Vanishing of flowers and shrubs. Fences obliterated
May signs of future change descry:
In those bright lights presages plain
Of blustering winds, and snow, and rain.
And see, it comes, the threaten'd snow!
Behold, yon mountain's ridgy row,
Which shew'd last night its naked crown,
With rock or scatter'd heather brown,
Is white. The knolls that from it swell,
Each peak abrupt, each crevic'd dell,
That girds the elevated height,
With one continuous cloak is white.
The mountain's head has caught the storm:
Half down their less ambitious form
The sides as yet uncover'd show,
Groves, meadows, gardens: and below
The vale in peace reposes still,
Unswept beneath the sheltering hill.
Behold, yon mountain's ridgy row,
Which shew'd last night its naked crown,
With rock or scatter'd heather brown,
Is white. The knolls that from it swell,
Each peak abrupt, each crevic'd dell,
That girds the elevated height,
With one continuous cloak is white.
The mountain's head has caught the storm:
Half down their less ambitious form
The sides as yet uncover'd show,
Groves, meadows, gardens: and below
The vale in peace reposes still,
Unswept beneath the sheltering hill.
And is't not so with human life?
And when disaster's storms are rife,
Strike they not oft the imperial crown,
Or coronet, of high renown,
And eminent for rank or race,
The first in merit as in place;
While o'er the peasant's lowly cot,
And the mid station's modest lot,
Unfelt and innocent have past
The whelming load, the driving blast!
And when disaster's storms are rife,
Strike they not oft the imperial crown,
Or coronet, of high renown,
472
The first in merit as in place;
While o'er the peasant's lowly cot,
And the mid station's modest lot,
Unfelt and innocent have past
The whelming load, the driving blast!
Ah! little think they of the sword,
Suspended o'er the feastful board
On the frail tenure of a thread,
Which threats the monarch's crowned head;
Who on that crowned head askance
Cast a malignant envious glance;
Or, anxious for an ampler range,
Sigh for that dangerous state to change
Their pleasant homestead's calm recess,
Which comfort, peace, and safety bless!
And yet not seldom upon all
Suspended o'er the feastful board
On the frail tenure of a thread,
Which threats the monarch's crowned head;
Who on that crowned head askance
Cast a malignant envious glance;
Or, anxious for an ampler range,
Sigh for that dangerous state to change
Their pleasant homestead's calm recess,
Which comfort, peace, and safety bless!
Doth desolation's tempest fall;
Alike the high and lowly sweep
With ruthless pinion, and a heap
Of sorrow overwhelming bring
On subject, peasant, peer, and king:—
(Avert the suffering from our times,
All gracious God! nor for our crimes,
Or for our fathers', let thy power
On us and ours such vengeance shower!—)
Ev'n as the storm, which now has spent
Aloft its burden, and content
Forbears to load the humble vale;
May charge again the northern gale,
473
The implements of wintry war;
Nor linger on the mountain's crest,
But all its sides and feet invest:
Till feet, and sides, and lordly head
With one o'ermantling cloak be spread,
One general ruin, white and wan,
Obscuring all the works of man!
Again it comes! Throughout the sky,
Above, below, the snow-flakes fly.
Not now in hasty show'rs, that spend
Their eager force, and quickly end:
But ceaseless, as with stedfast aim
No sojourn of a day to claim.
Not now in storms of scatter'd sleet:
But dense, in one continuous sheet;
As if a veil, by magick flung,
Were o'er the face of nature hung;
Or one broad curtain round the sphere
Inclos'd her ample theatre.
Above, below, the snow-flakes fly.
Not now in hasty show'rs, that spend
Their eager force, and quickly end:
But ceaseless, as with stedfast aim
No sojourn of a day to claim.
Not now in storms of scatter'd sleet:
But dense, in one continuous sheet;
As if a veil, by magick flung,
Were o'er the face of nature hung;
Or one broad curtain round the sphere
Inclos'd her ample theatre.
Thick fall the floating flakes, as light,
As fine, as soft, as pure, as white,
As the wind-waver'd egret's crest;
Or the warm down that lines the breast
Of swans, or hyperborean geese,
By winter bleach'd; or like the fleece,
Fresh from the stream, that whitens o'er,
Heaps upon heaps, the shearing floor,
What time the jocund shepherds cull
From summer flocks their weight of wool.
As fine, as soft, as pure, as white,
As the wind-waver'd egret's crest;
Or the warm down that lines the breast
Of swans, or hyperborean geese,
By winter bleach'd; or like the fleece,
Fresh from the stream, that whitens o'er,
Heaps upon heaps, the shearing floor,
What time the jocund shepherds cull
From summer flocks their weight of wool.
474
As white, and light, and soft as locks
Of wool, that clothe the unshorn flocks,
Descend the snow-flakes from the sky:
Descended on the earth they lie,
As spread in one continuous piece
O'er the broad floor the new-shorn fleece.
Of wool, that clothe the unshorn flocks,
Descend the snow-flakes from the sky:
Descended on the earth they lie,
As spread in one continuous piece
O'er the broad floor the new-shorn fleece.
First a thin sheet around is spread,
Like that the early hoar frosts shed,
A superficial covering, spare
And incomplete: thro' which, whate'er
Of roughness on earth's surface lies,
Protruded yet the sight descries.
The trench round clumps of verdure drawn,
The path that winds about the lawn,
On the mown turf the flow'r-bed's edge,
The new-turn'd fallow's furrow'd ledge,
Of larger bulk the pebbles strow'd
Unbroken on the beaten road,
The tussocks of the pastur'd leas,
The roots upstanding of the trees;
Each marks awhile its proper place:
And yet the inquiring eye may trace,
'Mid the white coat appearing still,
Tho' white itself, a little hill.
Like that the early hoar frosts shed,
A superficial covering, spare
And incomplete: thro' which, whate'er
Of roughness on earth's surface lies,
Protruded yet the sight descries.
The trench round clumps of verdure drawn,
The path that winds about the lawn,
On the mown turf the flow'r-bed's edge,
The new-turn'd fallow's furrow'd ledge,
Of larger bulk the pebbles strow'd
Unbroken on the beaten road,
The tussocks of the pastur'd leas,
The roots upstanding of the trees;
Each marks awhile its proper place:
And yet the inquiring eye may trace,
'Mid the white coat appearing still,
Tho' white itself, a little hill.
But soon more dense the cloak is grown,
Each trace of old distinction flown.
And now on road, or pathway led
Round verdant lawn, or flowery bed;
On furrow'd field, and tussock'd lea,
And root-heav'd herbage, nought you see,
But one white surface, smooth and plain,
One undistinguish'd broad champaign.
Each trace of old distinction flown.
And now on road, or pathway led
Round verdant lawn, or flowery bed;
On furrow'd field, and tussock'd lea,
And root-heav'd herbage, nought you see,
475
One undistinguish'd broad champaign.
Each flow'r, by autumn's hand uncropt
Or early winter, now o'ertopt,
Beneath the snow wreaths arching round
Its grave and winding sheet has found.
Or early winter, now o'ertopt,
Beneath the snow wreaths arching round
Its grave and winding sheet has found.
About each humble shrub below,
Step after step the gathering snow
From leaf to leaf, from bough to bough,
Creeps up with silent pace: and now
It meets the topmost spike above,
And wraps them in an ambient cove.
Step after step the gathering snow
From leaf to leaf, from bough to bough,
Creeps up with silent pace: and now
It meets the topmost spike above,
And wraps them in an ambient cove.
The dykes, that bordering lands divide,
The bank that skirts the sloping side,
Along the field the hedgerow bush,
Fringing the pool the waving rush,
Feel by degrees the snow-pile spread,
Ascend their sides, surmount their head;
Like island rocks, which wont to brave
The inroads of the circling wave;
But, when the full-orb'd moon presides,
From ridge to ridge, the surging tides,
From peak to loftier peak advance,
Till all is but the sea's expanse.
The bank that skirts the sloping side,
Along the field the hedgerow bush,
Fringing the pool the waving rush,
Feel by degrees the snow-pile spread,
Ascend their sides, surmount their head;
Like island rocks, which wont to brave
The inroads of the circling wave;
But, when the full-orb'd moon presides,
From ridge to ridge, the surging tides,
From peak to loftier peak advance,
Till all is but the sea's expanse.
Universal stillness. The Cattle. The Waggon on the road. Rook and Crow. The Poultry Yard. Small birds. Invitation to humanity and liberality
'Tis stillness all. No rustick sound
Disturbs the air's repose profound:
Unless the due repeated flail,
Or quick brush of the winnowing sail,
Give sign that toil is busy now;
Tho' high above the buried plough
Lies the piled heap; nor from the stall,
Obsequious to the herdman's call,
Go forth the kine and crowded sheep:
More pleas'd the well-stor'd crib to keep,
And homestead, than to hunt their feed
Precarious thro' the snowclad mead.
Disturbs the air's repose profound:
Unless the due repeated flail,
Or quick brush of the winnowing sail,
Give sign that toil is busy now;
Tho' high above the buried plough
476
Obsequious to the herdman's call,
Go forth the kine and crowded sheep:
More pleas'd the well-stor'd crib to keep,
And homestead, than to hunt their feed
Precarious thro' the snowclad mead.
The labouring team, that on the road
Creeps onward with its lumbering load;—
You see the toiling horses strain,
And slow course of the struggling wain:
But wheel with solid iron bound,
Nor the arm'd hoof that paws the ground,
You hear; as if they cautious trod,
With “felt,” the madman's vision, “shod !”
Creeps onward with its lumbering load;—
You see the toiling horses strain,
And slow course of the struggling wain:
But wheel with solid iron bound,
Nor the arm'd hoof that paws the ground,
You hear; as if they cautious trod,
With “felt,” the madman's vision, “shod !”
Hard by, the Rook and stalking Crow
Mark with their claws the indented snow,
Intent, for now the buried field
Nor grub, nor worm, nor grain can yield,
Intent to pick, as best they may,
Their breakfast from the travell'd way.
Mark with their claws the indented snow,
Intent, for now the buried field
Nor grub, nor worm, nor grain can yield,
Intent to pick, as best they may,
Their breakfast from the travell'd way.
The blithe sounds of the poultry yard
Are hush'd and mute: the tenants scar'd,
Confounded, by the glaring white,
Couch in their roosts with dumb affright,
Forestall the slow approach of eve,
Nor with the morn their refuge leave.
Are hush'd and mute: the tenants scar'd,
Confounded, by the glaring white,
Couch in their roosts with dumb affright,
Forestall the slow approach of eve,
Nor with the morn their refuge leave.
The little birds, that used to hop
Around, the budding spray to crop,
Or on the lurking insect prey;
Represt by famine, where are they?
Come, clear a space the window round;
And scatter on the gravelly ground,
Or well-swept sill, the refuse crumb.—
Soon will the pension'd stragglers come;
He first, the bird with ruddy breast,
And chaffinch with his light blue crest;
And sparrow brown, and apt to flit
On hasty wing the blue-crown'd tit,
Bright buntings with their yellow pens,
Green birds and sober-suited wrens.
Begrudge not, from your morning fare
For them a slender dole to spare!
They'll pay you by their sportive ways,
Their harmless mirth, their vernal lays,
The thought, that under God to you
Their sport, their joys, their song is due.
But chief begrudge not to expand
With wider scope the liberal hand
These wintry days; and from your store
Disperse your bounty to the poor!
Small meed have they in turn to show
But the heart's thanks: yet yours the glow
Of joy, for bliss to others given,
And hope that 'tis inroll'd in heaven!
Around, the budding spray to crop,
477
Represt by famine, where are they?
Come, clear a space the window round;
And scatter on the gravelly ground,
Or well-swept sill, the refuse crumb.—
Soon will the pension'd stragglers come;
He first, the bird with ruddy breast,
And chaffinch with his light blue crest;
And sparrow brown, and apt to flit
On hasty wing the blue-crown'd tit,
Bright buntings with their yellow pens,
Green birds and sober-suited wrens.
Begrudge not, from your morning fare
For them a slender dole to spare!
They'll pay you by their sportive ways,
Their harmless mirth, their vernal lays,
The thought, that under God to you
Their sport, their joys, their song is due.
But chief begrudge not to expand
With wider scope the liberal hand
These wintry days; and from your store
Disperse your bounty to the poor!
Small meed have they in turn to show
But the heart's thanks: yet yours the glow
Of joy, for bliss to others given,
And hope that 'tis inroll'd in heaven!
Danger of travelling. The trackless plain. The lost traveller. Drifting of the snow. Filling up of roads, lanes, &c. Woman buried in the snow. Her history admonitory
His journey o'er the lonely snow,
Where mile on mile extended lies,
Before his faint and failing eyes,
478
No track is there of custom'd wain;
Or horses' hoofs, his puzzled view
To guide; or peasant's nailed shoe;
Or sheep-dog's foot, that o'er the wold
Might lead him to the shepherd's fold.
So on he fares his doubtful way,
Perplex'd, and more and more astray:
So on he fares, with gazing blind,
With aching heart, and wilder'd mind:
So on he fares, with feet that keep
Weak hold and frail, till slumber creep
O'er his spent frame, in deadly league
With cold, and hunger, and fatigue:
And down, o'erspent, o'erwhelm'd, he sinks,
In wild delirious vision thinks
He sees at hand his cottage door,
And sleeps, to wake on earth no more!
Or where along the mountain's side,
Or cavern'd chalk-pit yawning wide,
Or hollow lane, in cloudy drift
Aloft the eddying whirlwinds lift
The snow. O'er gates, and fencing pales,
Banks, hedges, walls, the mass prevails.
Heap piled on heap, and wreath on wreath,
Ascending grows: while far beneath
Conceal'd the treacherous pit-fall lies,
Prepar'd to catch with dread surprise
The way-worn traveller, and inhume
Its victim in the unwonted tomb.
479
Such piteous fate was hers, whose name
Has gain'd a melancholy fame,
Her Christmas hearth's enlivening cheer
Chang'd for the snow-wreath'd cavern drear.
Eight days within her lonely cell
Immur'd she lay; and twice the bell,
Which told the sabbath's holy time,
Smote on her ear with mournful chime.
O, then how heav'd her breast to join
The train, that sought God's sacred shrine:
“Ev'n as the hart doth pant to lave,
O'erhunted, in the cooling wave !”
And, O, what joy were hers, to raise
In God's own house the voice of praise:
“Ev'n as the dove delights to rest
Still in her own accustom'd nest !”
Has gain'd a melancholy fame,
Her Christmas hearth's enlivening cheer
Chang'd for the snow-wreath'd cavern drear.
Eight days within her lonely cell
Immur'd she lay; and twice the bell,
Which told the sabbath's holy time,
Smote on her ear with mournful chime.
O, then how heav'd her breast to join
The train, that sought God's sacred shrine:
“Ev'n as the hart doth pant to lave,
O'erhunted, in the cooling wave !”
And, O, what joy were hers, to raise
In God's own house the voice of praise:
“Ev'n as the dove delights to rest
Still in her own accustom'd nest !”
O, had she erst, in safety's hour,
Confess'd religion's guiding pow'r;
God's house each former sabbath sought,
And practis'd what his precepts taught:
Not now perhaps her lot had been
The prison dark, the anguish keen,
Eight tedious days, eight weary nights,
Estrang'd from life, and life's delights,
To feel in cheerless, hopeless gloom,
Alive the horrors of the tomb.
And, render'd back to light and air,
Not hers the lot had been to bear
A feeble, mutilated frame,
Diseas'd, emaciate, helpless, lame;
A spectacle of woe to lie
A few brief months, and pine, and die.
Watch! when the sparkling wine is up,
And flames, and dances in the cup ;
Lest unawares that unknown day
Come and arrest you! “Watch and pray !”—
Confess'd religion's guiding pow'r;
God's house each former sabbath sought,
And practis'd what his precepts taught:
Not now perhaps her lot had been
The prison dark, the anguish keen,
Eight tedious days, eight weary nights,
Estrang'd from life, and life's delights,
To feel in cheerless, hopeless gloom,
Alive the horrors of the tomb.
And, render'd back to light and air,
Not hers the lot had been to bear
A feeble, mutilated frame,
Diseas'd, emaciate, helpless, lame;
480
A few brief months, and pine, and die.
Watch! when the sparkling wine is up,
And flames, and dances in the cup ;
Lest unawares that unknown day
Come and arrest you! “Watch and pray !”—
Conclusion. The Winter Solstice. Proposed subject completed. The Author's Thanksgiving. The Author's Prayer
The Year is closed! The tale is done!
For see, again the wintry sun
His southmost goal of rest attains;
Again from yon etherial plains
His rays with faintest lustre glow,
And span them with the briefest bow.
For see, again the wintry sun
His southmost goal of rest attains;
Again from yon etherial plains
His rays with faintest lustre glow,
And span them with the briefest bow.
Since last he form'd that briefest arch,
We've track'd him on his monthly march;
Seen him with equal course divide
The morning and the evening tide;
Seen him from yon north-western height
Scarce yield the reign to short-liv'd night;
Seen him give waning day to bear
Again with night but equal share;
Till now again his lowest place
He holds, and runs his shortest race.
And still, with every monthly change
And period of the yearly range,
What chiefest nature's works present
To please the eye, the ear, the scent,
To clothe the earth, to soar the heaven,
Studious of nature's charms I've striven
With faithful but poetick pen
To offer to the mental ken:
Not deeply vers'd in nature's store,
Nor vain of scientifick lore,
Nor anxious for poetick fame;
But prompt to honour nature's claim
To love from all her progeny,
Whose ears can hear, whose eyes can see,
Whose hearts, not made of stone or steel,
Her simple charms can taste and feel:—
Careful meanwhile from things of sense
To draw improving musings; thence
The mind to wholesome thought to move,
To warm the heart to virtue's love,
But most, both mind and heart to lead
Above, and stimulate to read,
Howe'er the living Spirit dwell
Beyond all sight invisible,
God in his lower works exprest,
The first, the last, the greatest, best!
We've track'd him on his monthly march;
Seen him with equal course divide
The morning and the evening tide;
Seen him from yon north-western height
Scarce yield the reign to short-liv'd night;
Seen him give waning day to bear
Again with night but equal share;
Till now again his lowest place
He holds, and runs his shortest race.
And still, with every monthly change
And period of the yearly range,
What chiefest nature's works present
To please the eye, the ear, the scent,
To clothe the earth, to soar the heaven,
Studious of nature's charms I've striven
481
To offer to the mental ken:
Not deeply vers'd in nature's store,
Nor vain of scientifick lore,
Nor anxious for poetick fame;
But prompt to honour nature's claim
To love from all her progeny,
Whose ears can hear, whose eyes can see,
Whose hearts, not made of stone or steel,
Her simple charms can taste and feel:—
Careful meanwhile from things of sense
To draw improving musings; thence
The mind to wholesome thought to move,
To warm the heart to virtue's love,
But most, both mind and heart to lead
Above, and stimulate to read,
Howe'er the living Spirit dwell
Beyond all sight invisible,
God in his lower works exprest,
The first, the last, the greatest, best!
Clos'd is the year! The tale is done!
O Thou, of whom, when first begun,
My strain a gleam of light implor'd,
O nature's universal Lord,
Accept my homage, while I bend
And crave thy blessing at its end!
O Thou, of whom, when first begun,
My strain a gleam of light implor'd,
O nature's universal Lord,
Accept my homage, while I bend
And crave thy blessing at its end!
But first for health, from day to day
Enabling me at will to stray
Month after month abroad, and muse
On each, and mark its varying views;—
For health of mind, to take delight
In nature, and what met my sight
And hearing, to collect, combine;
And thence in tissued web to twine
Of verse continuous, through the year,
The aspects of our changeful sphere;—
For soothing thoughts, which thence relief
Have minister'd to many a grief,
And many a rising sigh represt;—
For many a pleasure, which the breast
Alone in sweet retirement proved,
Or haply shared with those it loved;—
For these attendants on my theme,
No idle visionary dream,
But solid blessings kindly dealt
By Thee, by me as mercies felt:
Receive my grateful spirit's vow,
The heart's best incense, while I bow
With thanks before thy mercy-seat,
And thus thy further grace intreat.
Enabling me at will to stray
Month after month abroad, and muse
On each, and mark its varying views;—
482
In nature, and what met my sight
And hearing, to collect, combine;
And thence in tissued web to twine
Of verse continuous, through the year,
The aspects of our changeful sphere;—
For soothing thoughts, which thence relief
Have minister'd to many a grief,
And many a rising sigh represt;—
For many a pleasure, which the breast
Alone in sweet retirement proved,
Or haply shared with those it loved;—
For these attendants on my theme,
No idle visionary dream,
But solid blessings kindly dealt
By Thee, by me as mercies felt:
Receive my grateful spirit's vow,
The heart's best incense, while I bow
With thanks before thy mercy-seat,
And thus thy further grace intreat.
If thou this world so good and fair
Hast made, that we depictur'd there
Thy Power and Deity may know,
O bless the verse, which fain would show
To those, who cast their eyes around,
What pleasurable things abound,
Things before all in common placed,
Which high and low alike may taste,
On this fair earth, thy pleasant gift;
And then the mental sight would lift,
There stamp'd thy attributes to see,
And in thy works acknowledge Thee!
Hast made, that we depictur'd there
Thy Power and Deity may know,
O bless the verse, which fain would show
To those, who cast their eyes around,
What pleasurable things abound,
Things before all in common placed,
Which high and low alike may taste,
On this fair earth, thy pleasant gift;
And then the mental sight would lift,
There stamp'd thy attributes to see,
And in thy works acknowledge Thee!
483
If aught herein of taint be found,
Thy truth to mar, thy honour wound;
If aught to warp the mind or heart
From wisdom's, virtue's, better part:
(For who of all his words is sure?—)
Keep thou the reader's bosom pure,
Clean from his sight the mischief blot,
And on the involuntary spot
With eye of tender pity look,
Nor mark it in thy judgment book!
Thy truth to mar, thy honour wound;
If aught to warp the mind or heart
From wisdom's, virtue's, better part:
(For who of all his words is sure?—)
Keep thou the reader's bosom pure,
Clean from his sight the mischief blot,
And on the involuntary spot
With eye of tender pity look,
Nor mark it in thy judgment book!
But if (thy servant's meek design!)
Pure be each thought, and word, and line;
If fit, to thine own truth referr'd,
To bear the touchstone of thy word;
If fit to lead the excursive sense
In paths of blameless innocence;
If fit the safe abode to show,
Where heartfelt harmless pleasures grow;
If fit improvement's task to blend
With pleasure, and the heart to mend;
If fit to train and aid the soul
To feel religion's mild control;
But most of all, and what may most
Be deem'd man's triumph and his boast,
If fit to serve thee, and ensue,
Lord, to thy name the honour due:—
Then for these rhimes make thou a way,
These musings to the heart convey
Of those whose native taste delights
In rural sounds and rural sights;
Of those, by whom with joy are scann'd
The wonders of thy plastick hand!
Hence prompt them more and more to own
Thy pow'r in nature's volume shown!
Hence prompt them more and more to look
And read thee in thy written book!
And, since from Thee alone descend,
Thee “the beginning and the end,”
Gifts good and precious from above,
Father of lights and Fount of love!
If aught of pleasure or of use
These unambitious strains produce,
The glory, Lord, be only thine;
Thy own approving favour mine!
Pure be each thought, and word, and line;
If fit, to thine own truth referr'd,
To bear the touchstone of thy word;
If fit to lead the excursive sense
In paths of blameless innocence;
If fit the safe abode to show,
Where heartfelt harmless pleasures grow;
If fit improvement's task to blend
With pleasure, and the heart to mend;
If fit to train and aid the soul
To feel religion's mild control;
But most of all, and what may most
Be deem'd man's triumph and his boast,
If fit to serve thee, and ensue,
Lord, to thy name the honour due:—
Then for these rhimes make thou a way,
These musings to the heart convey
Of those whose native taste delights
In rural sounds and rural sights;
Of those, by whom with joy are scann'd
The wonders of thy plastick hand!
484
Thy pow'r in nature's volume shown!
Hence prompt them more and more to look
And read thee in thy written book!
And, since from Thee alone descend,
Thee “the beginning and the end,”
Gifts good and precious from above,
Father of lights and Fount of love!
If aught of pleasure or of use
These unambitious strains produce,
The glory, Lord, be only thine;
Thy own approving favour mine!
THE END.
| The British Months | |