140 MAY 



repetitions as the song-thrush s, but varied by as liquid 

 a whistle as the blackbird s, and distinguishable from 

 both by mere loudness. 



Perdita and Autolycus met ; and to tell the truth 

 neither they nor their folk ever went much nearer to 

 Bohemia or Sicilia than the space between Warwick and 

 Stratford, between Arden and the Avon. The bear in 

 the play is as unreal as the daffodils are English. That 

 was why the picker up of unconsidered trifles sang one 

 of the sweetest phrases in our tongue, and the princely 

 shepherdess described the loveliest bouquet in literature. 

 How lovely the primroses were that day and, indeed, 

 it was a supreme primrose year and the daffodils and the 

 very early bluebells blossoming here and there in a 

 southern shelter. The Avon is no Amazon, the elms 

 are midgets beside the karri, the fields are but geometric 

 figures rudely outlined ; the copses climb no hills, and 

 flowers are few beside the spring carpet in the Alps ; but 

 comparisons, with apologies to Dogberry, are otiose as 

 well as odorous : you do not want &quot; boss words &quot; in an 

 immortal lyric, where rhythm, rhyme, and sense and 

 sound half reveal and half conceal the inner glory, like 

 the leaves of the sweetbriar, where the white-throat 

 builds. 



The Shakespearean spring was the spring of the un 

 learned, who did not know what vernal means. Its note 

 was merriment, in which the daffodils danced to the tune 

 of the thrush : 



When daffodils begin to peer, 



With heigh ! the doxy over the dale, 

 Why, then comes in the sweet o the year ; 



For the red blood reigns in the winter s pale. 

 The white sheet bleaching on the hedge. 



With heigh ! the sweet birds. O, how they sing ! 



