Saturday, May 07, 2005

Daffodils


Ullswater

Picture of Ullswater, England, today.

On a breezy day in the spring of 1802, the great poet William Wordsworth (1770-1850) and his sister Dorothy were out walking along the Ullswater in England’s Lake District when they paused at Glencoyne Bay to take in the beauty. That night Dorothy wrote in her journal:

“When we were in the woods beyond Gowbarrow Park, we saw a few daffodils close to the water side. We fancied that the lake had floated some bulbs ashore and that the little colony had so sprung up. But as we went along there were more and more and at last under the boughs of the trees, we saw that there was a long belt of them along the shore, about the breadth of a country turnpike road.

“I never saw daffodils so beautiful! They grew among the mossy stones about them, and some rested their heads upon these stones as on a pillow for weariness, and the rest tossed and reeled and danced. It seemed as if they verily laughed with the wind that blew upon them over the lake—they looked so gay, ever dancing, ever changing. We stopped again and again…”

William, meanwhile, stored the scene in his mind, and later turned it into what is now one of his most famous poems:

THE DAFFODILS

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,

They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:

I gazed - and gazed - but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

Article and picture: Reprinted from www.bruderhof.com.

I really enjoyed this article today. I am looking forward to experiencing some of God's creation on this beautiful spring day in the Prairies, and maybe another robin will greet me.

Thursday, May 05, 2005

Mother Goose

"Little Robin Redbreast..."

Little Robin Redbreast
Sat upon a rail;
Niddle, naddle, went his head,
Wiggle, waggle, went his tail.

Robin Redbreast

Every morning for the last week a fat friendly robin has greeted me, either before or just as I am finishing my daily walk. Being the inquisitive kind, I wanted to know more of my namesake, robin redbreast. I discovered a wonderful legend of how the robin earned his red breast, I cried at the end of the story. It is rather long, but worth reading. The host site, University of Virginia Library is also a gem to have found, http://etext.lib.virginia.edu/

Today, I told the children in BSF, the wonderful story of how God demonstrated His great love towards us, while yet we were still sinners, Christ died for us. What a wonderful gift to finish this day, by finding this story of a courageous little robin who dared to draw near. Read the legend to understand my meaning.

http://etext.lib.virginia.edu/toc/modeng/public/LagRobi.html

Lagerlof, Selma. "Robin Redbreast." Trans. Volma Swanston Howard.
Current Literature 42 (Mar. 1903): 346-48.


This little tale by Sweden's noted writer of mystical stories has in it the simplicity of a nursery rhyme and the beauty of perfect art. The translation from the Swedish is made by Volma Swanston Howard for The Bookman, with whose permission we reproduce it.