 | The British Months |  |
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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
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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
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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;
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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.
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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.
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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
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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,
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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
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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.
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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
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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,
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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.
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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,
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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,
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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,
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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,
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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.
| The British Months | |