It lies not on the sunlit hill
Nor in the sunlit gleam
Nor ever in any falling wave
Nor ever in running stream—
But sometimes in the soul of man
Slow moving through his pain
The moonlight of a perfect peace
Floods heart and brain.[1]
So the external world weaves endlessly its subtle patterns of beauty and meaning, at times well hidden indeed, but yielding finally their secret to the ardent searchings of the human heart. Often the lyric springs, as it seems spontaneously, out of a sheer joy of things.
Sumer is icumen in,
Lhude[2] sing cuccu!
Groweth sed, and bloweth med,
And springth the wude[3] nu—[4]
Sing cuccu!
Awe[5] bleteth after lomb,
Lhouth[6] after calve cu;
Bulluc sterteth,[7] bucke verteth[8]
Murie sing cuccu!
Cuccu, cuccu, well singes thu, cuccu:
Ne swike[9] thu naver nu;
Sing cuccu, nu, sing cuccu,
Sing cuccu, sing cuccu, nu!
The bird's note gives the key. The poet responds, his joy overflows into images, his melody voices the music of Spring! As this is one of the earliest lyrics in our language, so it is also, in spirit, form, and content, a veritable spring song of the lyric mood.
For the lyric poem is born in emotion. Its moving spirit is song.
