behold the lark up spring
To meet the bright sun joyfully,
How he forgets to poise his wing
In his gay spirit's revelry.
Alas! that mournful thoughts should spring
E'en from that happy songster's glee!
Strange that such gladdening sight should bring
Not joy but pining care to me.
A very modern thought which calls to mind Theodore Storm's touching
lines after the death of his wife:
But this I cannot endure, that the sun smiles as before, clocks
strike and bells ring as in thy lifetime, and day and night still
follow each other.
He connects spring with love:
When grass grows green and fresh leaves spring
And flowers are budding on the plain,
When nightingales so sweetly sing
And through the greenwood swells the strain,
Then joy I in the song and in the flower,
Joy in myself but in my lady more;
All objects round my spirit turns to joy,
But most from her my rapture rises high.
Arnold von Mareuil (about 1200) sings in the same way:
O! how sweet the breeze of April
Breathing soft, as May draws near,
While through nights serene and gentle
Songs of gladness meet the ear.
Every bird his well-known language
Warbling in the morning's pride,
Revelling on in joy and gladness
By his happy partner's side....
With such sounds of bliss around me,
Who could wear a saddened heart?
He calls his lady-love
The fairest creature which Nature has produced here below, fairer
than I can express and faker than a beautiful May day, than
sunshine in March, shade in summer, than May roses, April rain,
the flower of beauty, mirror of love, the key of Fame.
Bertran de Born too sings:
The beautiful spring delights me well
When flowers and leaves are growing,
And it pleases my heart to hear the swell
Of the bird's sweet chorus flowing
In the echoing wood, etc.
The Greek lyrists up to Alexandrian times contented themselves with
implying indirectly that nothing delighted them so much as May and
its delights; but these singers implicitly state it. The German
Minnesingers too[8] are loud in praise of spring, as in that
anonymous song:
I think nothing so good nor worthy of praise
As a fair rose and my good man's love;
The song of the little birds in the woods is clear to many a heart.
and summer is greeted with:
The good are glad that summer comes. See what a benefit it is to
many hearts.
The Troubadour motive
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