IRatiue IRotes: 
Zbe Selbovne Society’s ^agasine. 
No. 40. APRIL, 1893. VoL. IV. 
MR. RODEN NOEL’S SPRING POETRY. 
S there any poet more intimate with Nature in her 
various moods than the Hon. Roden Noel ? any whose 
song more rings out her joy, and clarions her glory, 
and basses forth her awe and terror ? His song of 
her Is no strange riiuHc imperfectly caught and more im- 
perfectly reproduced ; it is the song of the own country, the 
song its child sings because he cannot choose but sing it. 
The present article deals with this nature poetry only so far 
as it belongs to the Spring, to “ the sweet o’ the year,” and it 
is assuredly best to let the poet himself speak rather than to 
make comments on his work. “ Uncouth, unkist,” unknown, 
unloved — but known, how loved, indeed ! The early Spring is 
over, so we leave his snowdrops, his “ darling spirits of the 
snow,” which have softly glided away from us until next year, 
and we listen with him to the song 'of the “ lark on his own 
music lost,” and lose ourselves in “ the blind bliss buoying up 
a lark, floating in sunlight.” 
I have said that Mr. Roden Noel understands the terror of 
Nature as well as her joy, for he is at one with her in all her 
moods, but to-day, this spring-time, he shall sing to us only of 
the joy of nature, the bliss in the blood which is the poet’s very 
fount of youth, renewed with the renewal of Spring. 
Let us hear him tell of “ A Walk in Spring.”. 
VVe passed by the wicket-gate you know, 
To the tender-budding wood, 
Dew lingering in the blooms below, 
Where intermittent flowed 
Warm sprinkled sunlight to and fro 
With the leaflets’ frolic mood. 
