454 SPRING AND THE POETS. 



in his own feelings; for all nature is lovely, and all nature is full of 

 delight and enjoyment. She can 



" work no wrong 



The very weeds are lovely ! The confusion 

 Doth speak of sunshine, breezes, and the dew." 



Chaucer, seems in an especial manner to have been endued with a 

 true poetic enthusiasm respecting natural objects. The quaintness of 

 his language frightens unhappily the dainty readers of our days. 



" There sate I downe among the faire flowris, 

 And saw the birdes trippe out of their bowris, 

 There as they restid 'hem had al the night : 

 They were so joyful of the day'is light, 

 They began of Maye for to done honouris : 



They proyin'd 'hem and madin 'hem right gay, 

 And daunsidin and leptin on the spray ; 

 And evirmore were two and two in fere, 

 Right so as they had chosen 'hem to yere 

 In Feverere on Saint Valentine's day. 



And the river whiche that I sat upon, 

 It maden soche a noise as it ron, 

 Accordaunt with the birdis armony, 

 Methought that it was the best melody 

 That mighten ben yherde of any mon." 



The beautiful simplicity of Chaucer's descriptions gives a charm to 

 his writings, that stamp them as the productions of a genius of the 

 noblest order. His " Floure and Leaf" is a perfect gem, set in an 

 antique frame indeed, but that does not lessen the value of the 

 diamond. His " Spring" was the first written in our language, and 

 it is unequalled to the present day. 



" When that Phcebus his chair of gold so hie 

 Had whirled up the starrie sky aloft, 

 When showris sote of rain descendid soft, 

 Causing the ground fele timis, and oft 

 Up for to give many an wholesome air, 

 And every plain was yclothid faire. 



With newe grene, and makith smale flowrs 

 To springin here and there in field and inede, 

 So very good and wholesome be the shours, 

 That they renewin what was old and dede 

 In winter time, and out of every sede 

 Springeth the herbe, so that every wight 

 Of this seson wexith richt glade and licht. 

 to a pleasaunt grove I gan to pas, 

 Long or the bright sonne uprisen was ; 

 In which were okis grete, straight as a line, 

 Under the which the grass, so freshe of hew, * 



Was newly sprong, and an eight fote or nine 



