Songs Out of Doors

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Title: Songs Out of Doors
Author: Henry Van Dyke
Release Date: November, 2005 [EBook #9372]
[This file was first
posted on September 26, 2003]
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Language: English

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0. START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, SONGS OUT
OF DOORS ***
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SONGS OUT OF DOORS
BY
HENRY VAN DYKE
1923
CONTENTS
I
OF BIRDS AND FLOWERS
The Veery
The Song-Sparrow
The Maryland Yellow-Throat
The
Whip-Poor-Will
Wings of a Dove
The Hermit Thrush
Sea-Gulls
of Manhattan
The Ruby-Crowned Kinglet
The Angler's Reveille

A November Daisy
The Lily of Yorrow
II
OF SKIES AND SEASONS
If All the Skies
The After-Echo
Dulciora
Matins
The Parting
and the Coming Guest
When Tulips Bloom
Spring in the North

Spring in the South
How Spring Comes to Shasta Jim
The First
Bird o' Spring
A Bunch of Trout-Flies
A Noon-Song
Turn o' the
Tide
Sierra Madre
School
Indian Summer
Light between the
Trees
The Fall of the Leaves
Three Alpine Sonnets
A Snow-Song

Roslin and Hawthornden
The Heavenly Hills of Holland


Flood-Tide of Flowers
Salute to the Trees
III
OF THE UNFAILING LIGHT
The Grand Canyon
God of the Open Air
IV
WAYFARING PSALMS IN PALESTINE
The Distant Road
The Welcome Tent
The Great Cities
The
Friendly Trees
The Pathway of Rivers
The Glory of Ruins
The
Tribe of the Helpers
The Good Teacher
The Camp-Fires of My
Friend
I
OF BIRDS AND FLOWERS
THE VEERY
The moonbeams over Arno's vale in silver flood were pouring, When
first I heard the nightingale a long-lost love deploring. So passionate,
so full of pain, it sounded strange and eerie; I longed to hear a simpler
strain,--the woodnotes of the veery.
The laverock sings a bonny lay above the Scottish heather;
It
sprinkles down from far away like light and love together; He drops the
golden notes to greet his brooding mate, his dearie; I only know one
song more sweet,--the vespers of the veery.
In English gardens, green and bright and full of fruity treasure, I heard
the blackbird with delight repeat his merry measure: The ballad was a
pleasant one, the tune was loud and cheery, And yet, with every setting
sun, I listened for the veery.

But far away, and far away, the tawny thrush is singing;
New
England woods, at close of day, with that clear chant are ringing: And
when my light of life is low, and heart and flesh are weary, I fain would
hear, before I go, the wood-notes of the veery.
1895.
THE SONG-SPARROW
There is a bird I know so well,
It seems as if he must have sung

Beside my crib when I was young;
Before I knew the way to spell

The name of even the smallest bird,
His gentle-joyful song I heard.

Now see if you can tell, my dear,
What bird it is that, every year,

Sings _"Sweet--sweet--sweet--very merry cheer."_
He comes in March, when winds are strong,
And snow returns to hide
the earth;
But still he warms his heart with mirth,
And waits for
May. He lingers long
While flowers fade; and every day
Repeats
his small, contented lay;
As if to say, we need not fear
The season's
change, if love is here
With _"Sweet--sweet--sweet--very merry
cheer."_
He does not wear a Joseph's-coat
Of many colours, smart and gay;

His suit is Quaker brown and gray,
With darker patches at his throat.

And yet of all the well-dressed throng
Not one can sing so brave a
song.
It makes the pride of looks appear
A vain and foolish thing, to
hear
His _"Sweet--sweet--sweet--very merry cheer."_
A lofty place he does not love,
But sits by choice, and well at ease,

In hedges, and in little trees
That stretch their slender arms above

The meadow-brook; and there he sings
Till all the field with pleasure
rings;
And so he tells in every ear,
That lowly homes to heaven are
near
In _"Sweet--sweet--sweet--very merry cheer."_
I like the tune, I like the words;
They seem so true, so free from art,


So friendly, and so full of heart,
That if but one of all the birds

Could be my comrade everywhere,
My little brother of the air,
I'd
choose the song-sparrow, my dear,
Because he'd bless me,