TO THE REV. HENRY DUDLEY RYDER, CANON RESIDENTIARY OF LICHFIELD CATHEDRAL, THIS VOLUME OF LANDSCAPE LYRICS, AS A MARK OF RESPECT FOR HIS VIRTUES, OF ADMIRATION OF HIS GENIUS, AND IN REMEMBRANCE OF THE PLEASANT HOURS PASSED IN HIS SOCIETY, IS INSCRIBED, BY HIS FRIEND, THE AUTHOR.
PREFACE
TO THE
FIRST EDITION OF LANDSCAPE LYRICS. The poems contained in the following pages must be taken as parts of a whole, being intended to be distinct only in their subjects. This will account for the same measure being used throughout. Of these pieces, the only one which has been previously published is that addressed "To a Wild Flower." My reason for inserting it here is, that it harmonizes with the other poems; and, having been already favourably spoken of by competent judges, I must confess it is one which I should "not willingly let die." In the first poem on "Autumn," I have introduced what has always appeared to me a beautiful incident in nature; namely, the singing of the missel-thrush during a thunder-storm. The louder the thunder roars, the shriller and sweeter becomes its voice. This interesting little bird is popularly known by the name of the storm-cock, because he is supposed to sing boldest immediately previous to a storm; but that he also sends forth his "native wood notes wild," during its continuance, is a fact which has been satisfactorily ascertained. Undismayed by the tempest's fury, or, rather rejoicing in its violence, the small but spirited songster warbles on unceasingly, as if desirous of emulating the loudness of the thunder-tone, or of making his song be heard above the noise of the raging elements. The poetry of nature, particularly at this joyous season, is in its landscapes; and if these unpretending "Lyrics" should lead any one to a healthy contemplation of natural objects, or impart, to refined minds, any pleasure in the perusal, the time which has been bestowed upon them will not have been idly or unprofitably employed. London, 1st June, 1838.
POEMS. LANDSCAPE LYRICS. No. I.—SUNRISE. Spread are dawn's radiant wings, Its dazzling feet pursue their silent way, Leaving no shadow, for each coming ray A general brightness brings. The vapour from the brow Of the old mountain crests, begins to part, Like care from off the forehead, and the heart— And all is cloudless now! The universal air, The smiling sky, and the far-stretching mead— All nature, in its varied forms agreed, Mingle their beauties there! The ripple of the wave, Beachward returning to the distant shore, Like a lone pilgrim to the cottage door, That once a welcome gave: The new-waked laureat bee, On the flower-blossom, breathing in its mirth, Its conch-like matin song, to greet the earth, With ever grateful glee! The landscape's free expanse, And all the harmonies that, spread around, Combine the joys of hearing, sight, and sound, Are gathered at a glance; And powerfully they tell, With deeper eloquence than notes divine, Of many things that round our heart-strings twine, And in our fancies dwell; Of boyhood's sportive days, The thymy glade, the daisy blooming there, The vale remote, or lake secluded, where The smiling sunbeam plays; The gay flowers on the plain, Gemming the mead, perfuming all the wood; As if each Summer morn was Spring renew'd, Or May-day come again! The music of the birds, Telling all sleepers of the birth of day, And, with reviving Nature, haste to pay Their homage, not in words! The dreamy waterfall, Babbling and bubbling from the upland spring; The soaring crag where eaglets rest their wing, Listening the eagle's call: The minstrel streamlet near, The zephyr's breath, too languid for a breeze, That stirs, yet scarcely moves, the gentle trees, Touching the waters clear. The sunrays, as they pass Into broad sunshine, throw their light on all, With bloom and blossom, whereso'er they fall; On mount, or meadow-grass. And something more than light Sleeps on the verdant hill-side; dreams of love, And glimpses of the happier state above, Burst on the mental sight.
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