Print
Word
PDFAgain, in The ‘Cuckoo and the Nightingale’, after a wakeful night, the Poet rises at dawn, and wandering forth, reaches a “laund of white and green.”
’So feire oon had I nevere in bene,
The grounde was grene, y poudred with
dayse,
The floures and the gras ilike al hie,
Al grene and white, was nothing elles
sene.’
Ed.
* * * * *
TO THE SAME FLOWER [A]
Composed 1802.—Published 1807
[Composed in the orchard, Town-end, Grasmere.-I. F.]
One of the “Poems of the Fancy.”—Ed.
With little here to do or see
Of things that in the great world be,
Daisy! again I talk to thee, [1]
For thou art worthy,
Thou unassuming Common-place
5
Of Nature, with that homely face,
And yet with something of a grace,
Which Love makes for thee!
Oft on the dappled turf at ease
I sit, and play with similes, [2]
10
Loose types of things through all degrees,
Thoughts of thy raising:
And many a fond and idle name
I give to thee, for praise or blame,
As is the humour of the game,
15
While I am gazing.
A nun demure of lowly port;
Or sprightly maiden, of Love’s court,
In thy simplicity the sport
Of all temptations;
20
A queen in crown of rubies drest;
A starveling in a scanty vest;
Are all, as seems [3] to suit thee best,
Thy appellations.
A little cyclops, with one eye
25
Staring to threaten and defy,
That thought comes next—and
instantly
The freak is over,
The shape will vanish—and behold
A silver shield with boss of gold,
30
That spreads itself, some faery bold
In fight to cover!
I see thee glittering from afar—
And then thou art a pretty star;
Not quite so fair as many are
35
In heaven above thee!
Yet like a star, with glittering crest,
Self-poised in air thou seem’st
to rest;—
May peace come never to his nest,
Who shall reprove thee!
40
Bright Flower! [4] for by that
name at last,
When all my reveries are past,
I call thee, and to that cleave fast,
Sweet silent creature!
That breath’st with me in sun and
air, 45
Do thou, as thou art wont, repair
My heart with gladness, and a share
Of thy meek nature!
