Some very rede, and some a glad light persons might repose under it. Yet

hand of Coleridge or Tennyson-and Margarete or Daisy should suffer It is also singular to us, that the

"Now turning from the wintry signs, the sun
course exalted through the Ram had run,

ad whirling up the skies, his chariot drove
rough Taurus, and the lightsome realms of love,
ere Venus from her orb descends in showers

lad the ground, and paint the fields with flowers;
first the tender blades of grass appear,
CCCLV.

(but as is only afterwards at the close
made known to the spectatress of
these occurrences,) as you may easi-
ly surmise, the homagers of the Leaf.
Now the homagers of the Flower
From the
enter upon the stage.
depth of the wide champaign there
come roaming in a great company,
ladies and knights, and ever a knight
They
and a lady hand in hand.
are all richly clad in green, and wear
chaplets of flowers; green-robed min-
strels, with instruments of all sorts,
and wearing variegated chaplets of
flowers precede. They dance up to a
great tuft of flowers in the midst of the
mead; about which they incline re-
verently, and one sings the praise of
the "Margarete" or Daisy, the others
answering in chorus; meanwhile the
hour grows to noon; the sun waxes
hot; the unsheltered flowers wither;
the ladies and the knights of the
Flower are scorched with his rays;
then the wind rises, and furiously
blows down all the flowers; then
comes on a terrible storm of mixed
hail and rain; wets the knights and
ladies of the Flower to the skin, and
at last blows over. But the white-
habited servants of the Leaf have
stood under their laurel, shaded from
the fiery noon beams, and shrouded
from the tempest; and now, moved
with ruth and pity, come forwards to
tender their aid. The Queen of the
Leaf greets, with loving sisterly com-
passion, the Queen of the Flower. The
party of the Leaf proceed to more ef-
fectual relief than soothing words-
hewing down boughs and trees to
make "stately fires" for drying their
wet clothes, and searching the plain
for virtuous herbs to make for the
blistered and drouthy sufferers salves
and salads. She of the Leaf now in-
vites Her of the Flower to supper, who
The Leaf
accepts as courteously.
company, at the bidding of their mis-
tress, provide horses for the Flower
company. At this juncture the Night-
ingale, who all day long, sitting hidden
in the laurel, sang "the service longing
to May," flies to the hand of the Leaf-
queen, and sings on as diligently as be-
fore-theGoldfinch, whom the heat had
forced from his blossom of "medle-
tree" into the cool bushes, betakes
himself in like manner to his Flower-
queen's hand, and sings there; and

fast by the arbour, where our spectatress has remained all the while seeing and unseen, ladies and knights ride along and away. Only one lady in white rides alone after the rest. To her she comes out, and enquires what the wandering show means. The answer, given with courteous explicitness, imports in sum that those who wear chaplets of Agnus Castus are virgins; the laurel wearers, knights who were never conquered; the Nine most distinguished knights being the Nine Worthies; with whom are the Twelve Peers of Charlemagne, and many "knightes olde" of the Garter. Those who wear woodbine

"Be such as never were To love untrewe in word, thoghte, ne dede."

They wear the Leaf, because the
But the
beauty of the Leaf lasts.
followers of the Flower are "those
that loved idlenesse and not delite of
no besinesse, but for to hunte and
hawke and pley in medes, and many
other such idle dedes." They wear
the perishable Flower accordingly.
The informant ends with enquiring of
her auditress, whether she will, for
the years to come, serve the Leaf or
the Flower; who in answer vows her
observance to the Leaf.
The deep

implication of the ancient mythology
in the reviving poetry, here again
discovers itself. It appears the lady
of the Leaf is the goddess Diana;
lady of the Flower, Flora in person.

the

The invention is remarkably well purposed, and well carried through. The division of the world into those who follow virtue and those who pursue their own delight, is a good general poetico-ethical view, and the delicate emblems happily chosen for The heat expressing the contrast. and the tempest which overwhelm the dainty voluptuaries, and are harmless to the deed-worthy, express the true wisdom of virtue, even for this world, which moves not at our will; and the gentle healing kindness of the wiser to the less wise, whom they equalize with themselves, might almost seem profoundly to signify the recovery to the better wisdom of those who had set out with choosing amiss-a gracious hidden Christian lesson of charity and penitence. The contact of the simply

Some very rede, and some a glad light persons might repose under it. Yet

hand of Coleridge or Tennyson-and Margarete or Daisy should suffer It is also singular to us, that the

"Now turning from the wintry signs, the sun
His course exalted through the Ram had run,
And whirling up the skies, his chariot drove
Through Taurus, and the lightsome realms of love,
Where Venus from her orb descends in showers

To glad the ground, and paint the fields with flowers;
When first the tender blades of grass appear,

And buds, that yet the blast of Eurus fear,

Stand at the door of life, and doubt to clothe the year;
Till gentle heat, and soft repeated rains,

Make the green blood to dance within their veins :
Then, at their call, embolden'd, out they come
And swell the gems, and burst the narrow room;
Broader and broader yet their blooms display,
Salute the welcome sun, and entertain the day.
Then from their breathing souls the sweets repair
To scent the skies, and purge the unwholesome air.
Joy spreads the heart, and with a general song,
Spring issues out, and leads the jolly months along.
"In that sweet season, as in bed I lay,
And sought in sleep to pass the night away,
I turn'd my weary side, but still in vain,
Though full of youthful health, and void of pain.
Cares I had none to keep me from my rest,
For love had never enter'd in my breast;
I wanted nothing fortune could supply,
Nor did she slumber till that hour deny.
I wonder'd then, but after found it true,
Much joy had dried away the balmy dew:
Seas would be pools, without the brushing air
To curl the waves, and sure some little care
Should weary nature so, to make her want repair.
"When Chanticleer the second watch had sung,
Scorning the scorner sleep, from bed I sprung;
And dressing by the moon, in loose array,
Pass'd out in open air, preventing day,

And sought a goodly grove, as fancy led my way.
Straight as a line in beauteous order stood
Of oaks unshorn, a venerable wood;
Fresh was the grass beneath, and every tree,
At distance planted in a due degree,

Their branching arms in air with equal space
Stretch'd to their neighbours with a long embrace;
And the new leaves on every bough were seen,
Some ruddy-colour'd, some of lighter green.
The painted birds, companions of the spring,
Hopping from spray to spray, were heard to sing.
Both eyes and ears received a like delight,
Enchanting music, and a charming sight.
On Philomel I fix'd my whole desire,

And listen'd for the queen of all the quire;

Fain would I hear her heavenly voice to sing,

And wanted yet an omen to the spring.

66

Attending long in vain, I took the way,

Which through a path, but scarcely printed, lay;

In narrow mazes oft it seem'd to meet,

And look'd as lightly press'd by fairy feet.

Wand'ring I walk'd alone, for still methought

To some strange end so strange a path was wrought;

At last it led me where an arbour stood,

The sacred receptacle of the wood;

This place unmark'd, though oft I walk'd the green, In all my progress I had never seen;

And seized at once with wonder and delight,

Gazed all around me, new to the transporting sight.
"Twas bench'd with turf, and goodly to be seen,
The thick young grass arose in fresher green:
The mound was newly made, no sight could pass
Betwixt the nice partitions of the grass;

The well-united sods so closely lay,

And all around the shades defended it from day;
For sycamores with eglantine were spread,

A hedge about the sides, a covering over head.
And so the fragrant briar was wove between,
The sycamore and flowers were mix'd with green,
That nature seem'd to vary the delight,

And satisfied at once the smell and sight.

The master workman of the bower was known
Through fairylands, and built for Oberon;
Who twining leaves with such proportion drew,
They rose by measure, and by rule they grew;
No mortal tongue can half the beauty tell,
For none but hands divine could work so well.
Both roof and sides were like a parlour made,
A soft recess, and a cool summer shade.
The hedge was set so thick, no foreign eye
The persons placed within it could espy;
But all that pass'd without with ease was seen,
As if nor fence nor tree was placed between.
"Twas border'd with a field; and some was plain
With grass, and some was sow'd with rising grain,
That (now the dew with spangles deck'd the ground)
A sweeter spot of earth was never found.

I look'd, and look'd, and still with new delight,
Such joy my soul, such pleasures fill'd my sight;
And the fresh eglantine exhaled a breath,
Whose odours were of power to raise from death.
Nor sullen discontent, nor anxious care,
Even though brought thither, could inhabit there;
But thence they fled as from their mortal foe;
For this sweet place could only pleasure know.
Thus as I mused, I cast aside my eye,
And saw a medlar-tree was planted nigh.
The spreading branches made a goodly show,
And full of opening blooms was every bough:
A goldfinch there I saw with gaudy pride
Of painted plumes, that hopp'd from side to side,
Still pecking as she pass'd; and still she drew
The sweets from every flower, and suck'd the dew.
Sufficed at length, she warbled in her throat,
And tuned her voice to many a merry note,
But indistinct, and neither sweet nor clear,
Yet such as sooth'd my soul and pleased my ear.
"Her short performance was no sooner tried,
When she I sought, the nightingale, replied':
So sweet, so shrill, so variously she sung,
That the grove echo'd and the valleys rung;
And I so ravish'd with her heavenly note-

I stood entranced, and had no room for thought,
But all o'erpower'd with ecstasy of bliss,

Was in a pleasing dream of Paradise;

At length I waked, and looking round the bower, Search'd every tree, and pry'd on every flower, If any where by chance I might espy

The rural poet of the melody;

For still methought she sung not far away:

At last I found her on a laurel spray,

Close by my side she sate, and fair in sight,

Full in a line against her opposite;

Where stood with eglantine the laurel twined,

And both their native sweets were well conjoin'd.