imagine a little bird perched upon a bough and speak to that one little bird, he would, at least, become somewhat patronizing; but when Wordsworth says, "Oh, blithe newcomer!" meaning the cuckoo, he refers to the cuckoo of the world, the universal bird, and therefore it awakens the imagination and makes you live with him into the appreciation of this wonderful bird which is singing its melody around the world. Therefore, the lyric is exceedingly imaginative, joyous, and spontaneous and should be rendered directly or indirectly to the audience. THE SKYLARK Bird of the wilderness, Blithesome and cumberless, James Hogg. Sweet be thy matin o'er moorland and lea! Blest is thy dwelling-place: Oh, to abide in the desert with thee! Far in the downy cloud; Love gives it energy, love gave it birth! Where art thou journeying? Thy lay is in heaven; thy love is on earth. O'er fell and fountain sheen, O'er moor and mountain green, Over the rainbow's rim, Then when the gloaming comes, Sweet will thy welcome and bed of love be! Blest is thy dwelling place Oh, to abide in the desert with thee! LYRIC David M. Moir. Awake ere the morning dawn,-skylark, arise! And the grass with the night dew is diamonded white; Earth starts like a sluggard half roused from a dream; Arise from the clover, and up to the cloud, Ere the sun leaves his chamber in majesty proud, Up, up with a loud voice of singing! the bee Up, up with thy praise-breathing anthem! alone TO THE CUCKOO William Wordsworth. O blithe new-comer! I have heard, While I am lying on the grass Though babbling only to the vale, Of sunshine and of flowers, Thrice welcome, darling of the spring! No bird, but an invisible thing, The same whom in my schoolboy days Which made me look a thousand ways To seek thee did I often rove And I can listen to thee yet; O blessed bird! the earth we pace An unsubstantial, faery place; That is fit home for thee! CROSSING THE BAR Sunset and evening star, Alfred Tennyson. And one clear call for me! And may there be no moaning of the bar, When I put out to sea, But such a tide as moving seems asleep, Too full for sound and foam, When that which drew from out the boundless deep Twilight and evening bell, And after that the dark! And may there be no sadness of farewell, When I embark; For though from out our bourne of Time and Place I hope to see my Pilot face to face VI. The Ode The Ode is the universal expression of the individual idea in rhythmic form, personally, that is, the greater part of the ode resembles in many respects the Lyric, is filled with the same spirit, except that there is always a personal touch of regret or sorrow which enters into an ode, and differentiates it from the lyric; illustration:-Shelley's "Ode to the West Wind," The portion which changes the "Ode to the West Wind," and makes it primarily an ode rather than a lyric, is where the personal touch comes in the line:-"I fall upon the thorns of life; I bleed." This transforms the buoyant, happy thought into one of regret and thus changes its form. The Ode should be delivered either directly or indirectly to the audience with the element of absolute spontaneity, regardless of any surroundings or conditions, allowing the mind to dwell wholly upon the thought and the atmosphere created by the poem, until the interpreter becomes a part of it. ODE TO THE WEST WIND Percy Bysshe Shelley. O Wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being, Thou on whose stream, 'mid the steep sky's commotion, On the blue surface of thine airy surge, Like the bright hair uplifted from the head Of some fierce Maenad, ev'n from the dim verge Of the horizon to the Zenith's height The locks of the approaching storm. Thou dirge Black rain, and fire, and hail, will burst: Oh, hear! |