and his heart keeps tune to the song of the birds. He has something of Milton’s power of giving a general sense of freshness and sweetness, and, again like Milton, his scenery always strikes one as peculiarly English. He tells us that Cambinskan reigns in Syria, but his picture of the birds singing for joy of the lusty weather and the “yonge grene,” is that of a Northern rather than an Eastern spring. His best-loved flower, the daisy, springs in every English hedgerow.
The description of May in the Prologue to the Legend of Good Women is particularly charming. The poet declares that one thing, and one alone, has power to take him from his books. When May comes,
Whan that I here the smale foules singe
And that the floures ginne for to springe,
Farwel my studie, as lasting that sesoun.
Instead of poring over some ponderous tome, he wanders out into the meadows to watch the daisy open to the sun:—
And whan the sonne ginneth for to weste,
Than closeth hit, and draweth hit to reste,
So sore hit is afered of the night,
Til on the morwe, that hit is dayës light.
All day long he roams till
—closed was the flour and goon to reste,
and then he speeds swiftly home:—
And in a litel erber that I have,
Y-benched newe with turves fresshe y-grave,
I bad men shulde me my couche make;
For deyntee of the newe someres sake
I bad hem strowe floures on my bed.
But here again it is impression rather than actual description.