 | A New Year's Eve, and Other Poems |  |
176
SYR HERON.
[_]
INSCRIBED TO MY INGENIOUS FRIEND, JOHN MAJOR, ON RECEIVING FROM HIM A SEAL BEARING THE IMPRESS OF THAT BIRD.
“And on the border of that silent lake
There stood, with downcast eye and folded wing,
A stately Heron, as if loth to wake
Of that still water the least rippling;
Yet is he of that marshy waste the king,
And there he takes his pleasure.”—
Lays of Idlesse.
There stood, with downcast eye and folded wing,
A stately Heron, as if loth to wake
Of that still water the least rippling;
Yet is he of that marshy waste the king,
And there he takes his pleasure.”—
Lays of Idlesse.
Major! a poet's tuneful thanks,
Might my poor verses keep their ranks
To prove that title true,
For such a token of thy taste
As thou hast now before me placed,
Most justly are thy due.
Might my poor verses keep their ranks
To prove that title true,
For such a token of thy taste
As thou hast now before me placed,
Most justly are thy due.
177
But I so rate “beyond all price”
The execution and device
Here by the artist wrought,
I half distrust my homely lays,
To give thy friend his meed of praise,
Or thank thee as I ought.
The execution and device
Here by the artist wrought,
I half distrust my homely lays,
To give thy friend his meed of praise,
Or thank thee as I ought.
I marvel not that such a bird
Should be by each of us preferred
To many a one more fair
Of plumage, and more proud of song:
We both should do our feelings wrong
Did we his praise forbear.
Should be by each of us preferred
To many a one more fair
Of plumage, and more proud of song:
We both should do our feelings wrong
Did we his praise forbear.
Couldst thou, as Izaak Walton's chum,
In tall Syr Heron's laud be dumb?
A feathered fisher he!
And that to Izaak and thyself,
Votaries of angling more than pelf,
His passport well might be.
In tall Syr Heron's laud be dumb?
A feathered fisher he!
And that to Izaak and thyself,
Votaries of angling more than pelf,
His passport well might be.
178
Buffon, indeed, has run him down;
But shall we mind the Frenchman's frown?
Who, if he ever saw one,
As Yankees say, could poorly “guess”
The creature's quiet happiness,
And, therefore, ill could draw one.
But shall we mind the Frenchman's frown?
Who, if he ever saw one,
As Yankees say, could poorly “guess”
The creature's quiet happiness,
And, therefore, ill could draw one.
He calls him haggard, gloomy, spare,
Talks of his solitude and care,
His wretchedness and want;
As if he lived in joy's despite,
Doomed with a craving appetite
Still hopelessly to pant.
Talks of his solitude and care,
His wretchedness and want;
As if he lived in joy's despite,
Doomed with a craving appetite
Still hopelessly to pant.
My friend, a happier creed is thine;
You “brothers of the rod and line”
Well know the joy of watching
From hour to hour by lake or stream;
Know too the luxury supreme
What you have sought—of catching!
You “brothers of the rod and line”
Well know the joy of watching
From hour to hour by lake or stream;
Know too the luxury supreme
What you have sought—of catching!
179
Then thou too art boon Nature's child;
And for her sake spots lone and wild
Are dear to heart and eye;
For their sake, and for his no less,
Thou well hast chosen for impress
A heron's effigy!
And for her sake spots lone and wild
Are dear to heart and eye;
For their sake, and for his no less,
Thou well hast chosen for impress
A heron's effigy!
I love him too:—for to my mind
I know not where a bard might find,
'Mid all the feathered throng,
One with more poesy imbued,
Or bearing more similitude
To many a child of song.
I know not where a bard might find,
'Mid all the feathered throng,
One with more poesy imbued,
Or bearing more similitude
To many a child of song.
Retired and shy, of pensive mien,
Not gaily plumed, but lank and lean,
A silent, patient creature;
To me he seems a type or sign
Of countless votaries of the Nine,
In character and feature.
Not gaily plumed, but lank and lean,
A silent, patient creature;
To me he seems a type or sign
Of countless votaries of the Nine,
In character and feature.
180
And then the haunts he fondly chooses!
Where, hermit-like, he stands and muses,
Until he seems to be,
Moveless in dream-like silence lone,
Some spectre bird, or sculptured stone,
Or stump of scathed tree.
Where, hermit-like, he stands and muses,
Until he seems to be,
Moveless in dream-like silence lone,
Some spectre bird, or sculptured stone,
Or stump of scathed tree.
He is my favourite for the sake
Of rushy pool or sedgy lake,
Oft by his presence graced:
A regal bird in days of yore;
And monarch still, in minstrel lore,
Of the lone marshy waste.
Of rushy pool or sedgy lake,
Oft by his presence graced:
A regal bird in days of yore;
And monarch still, in minstrel lore,
Of the lone marshy waste.
Not crownless, though to him denied
The silky plumes that don with pride
The lovelier egret;—
For with a royal mien he bears
His arching neck, and proudly wears
His flowing crest of jet.
The silky plumes that don with pride
The lovelier egret;—
For with a royal mien he bears
His arching neck, and proudly wears
His flowing crest of jet.
181
Then doubt not that with “right good will”
I greet what here thy artist's skill
So well has represented;
And if the idle rhymes I send
Serve but to please my Major friend,
We both may be contented.
I greet what here thy artist's skill
So well has represented;
And if the idle rhymes I send
Serve but to please my Major friend,
We both may be contented.
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