Giant Hours with Poet Preachers Part 10

ALFRED NOYES [Footnote: The poetical selections appearing in this chapter are used by permission, and are taken from Collected Poems by Alfred Noyes, two volumes, copyright, 1913, by the Frederick A. Stokes Company, New York.]

A STUDY OF CHILDHOOD, OF MANHOOD, CHRISTHOOD, AND G.o.dHOOD

If one wants to find the tenderest, most completely sympathetic study of childhood, one that finds echo not only in the heart of the grown-up, but in the heart of children the world over, he must this day go to Alfred Noyes. If you want proof of this, read "The Forest of Wild Thyme" or "The Flower of Old j.a.pan" to your children and watch them sit with open mouths and open hearts to hear these wonder fairy tales. And, further, if you are too grown-up to want to read Noyes for his complete sympathy with childhood, more universal even than our beloved Riley; and you want a poet that challenges you to a more vigorous manhood, a poet who calls man to his highest and deepest virility, read Noyes. Or, if you happen to need a clearer, firmer insight into the man of Galilee and Calvary, read Noyes; and, finally, if you want firmer, more rocklike foundations to plant your faith in G.o.d upon, read Noyes, for herein one finds all of these. From childhood to G.o.dhood is, indeed, a wide range for a poet to take, and yet they are akin.

As another poet has said, none less than Edwin Markham, "Know man and you will know the deep of G.o.d." And as Noyes himself says in the introduction to "The Forest of Wild Thyme":

"Husband, there was a happy day, Long ago in love's young May, When, with a wild-flower in your hand You echoed that dead poet's cry-- 'Little flower, but if I could understand!'

And you saw it had roots in the depth of the sky, And there in that smallest bud lay furled The secret and meaning of all the world."

Collected Poems by Alfred Noyes.

And when we know that the mother was talking about "Little Peterkin,"

their lost baby, we know that she meant that in a little child there lay furled "The secret and meaning of all the world."

And so, beginning with childhood, through those intermediate steps of manhood and Christhood, with Noyes leading us, as he literally leads the little tots through the mysteries of Old j.a.pan and the Wild Thyme, let us go from tree to tree, and flower to flower, and hope to hope, and pain to pain, up to G.o.d, from whence we came. It is a clear sweet pathway that he leads us.

CHILDHOOD AND ITS GLORY

Noyes a.s.sumes something that we all know for truth: that "Grown-ups do not understand" childhood. But after reading this sweet poet we know that he does understand; and we thank G.o.d for him. In Part II of "The Forest of Wild Thyme" one sees this clearly.

"O, grown-ups cannot understand, And grown-ups never will, How short's the way to fairyland Across the purple hill: They smile: their smile is very bland, Their eyes are wise and chill; And yet--at just a child's command-- The world's an Eden still."

Collected Poems by Alfred Noyes.

Thank the stars that watch over us in love that the great-hearted poets, and the children of the world--at least those little ones that a half-way Christian civilization has not robbed of childhood--know that "The world's an Eden still."

From the prelude to "The Flower of Old j.a.pan" comes that same note, like a bluebird in springtime, that note of belief, of trust, of hope:

"Do you remember the blue stream; The bridge of pale bamboo; The path that seemed a twisted dream Where everything came true; The purple cheery-trees; the house With jutting eaves below the boughs; The mandarins in blue, With tiny tapping, tilted toes, With curious curved mustachios?

"Ah, let us follow, follow far Beyond the purple seas; Beyond the rosy foaming bar, The coral reef, the trees, The land of parrots and the wild That rolls before the fearless child In ancient mysteries: Onward, and onward if we can, To Old j.a.pan, to Old j.a.pan."

Collected Poems by Alfred Noyes.

And "The Forest of Wild Thyme" is full of the echos of fairy tales and childhood rhymes heard the world over. Little Peterkin, who went with the children to "Old j.a.pan," is dead now:

"Come, my brother pirates, I am tired of play; Come and look for Peterkin, little brother Peterkin, Our merry little comrade that the fairies took away."

Collected Poems by Alfred Noyes.

And so, they go to the last place they saw him, the old G.o.d's Acre, and fall asleep amid the wild thyme blooming there. As they dream the thyme grows to the size of trees, and they wander about in the forest hunting for Peterkin.

As they hunted they found out who killed c.o.c.k Robin. They appeal to Little Boy Blue to help them hunt for Peterkin:

"Little Boy Blue, you are gallant and brave, There was never a doubt in those clear, bright eyes.

Come, challenge the grim, dark Gates of the Grave As the skylark sings to those infinite skies!"

Collected Poems by Alfred Noyes.

The King of Fairyland gives command to Pease-Blossom:

"And cried, Pease-blossom, Mustard-Seed! You know the old command; Well; these are little children; you must lead them on to Peterkin!"

Collected Poems by Alfred Noyes.

They even discovered, as they were led on by Pease-Blossom and Mustard- Seed, how fairies were born:

"Men upon earth Bring us to birth Gently at even and morn!

When as brother and brother They greet one another And smile--then a fairy is born!"

Collected Poems by Alfred Noyes.

And, too, they found why fairies die:

"But at each cruel word Upon earth that is heard, Each deed of unkindness or hate, Some fairy must pa.s.s From the games in the gra.s.s And steal through the terrible Gate."

Collected Poems by Alfred Noyes.

And they learned what it took to make a rose:

"'What is there hid in the heart of a rose, Mother-mine?'

'Ah, who knows, who knows, who knows?

A man that died on a lonely hill May tell you perhaps, but none other will, Little child.'

"'What does it take to make a rose, Mother-mine?'

'The G.o.d that died to make it knows.

It takes the world's eternal wars, It takes the moon and all the stars, It takes the might of heaven and h.e.l.l And the everlasting Love as well, Little child.'"

Collected Poems by Alfred Noyes.

And they heard the old tales over:

"And 'See-Saw; Margery Daw,' we heard a rollicking shout, As the swing boats hurtled over our heads to the tune of the roundabout; And 'Little Boy Blue, come blow up your horn,' we heard the showmen cry, And 'd.i.c.kery Dock, I'm as good as a clock,' we heard the swings reply."

Collected Poems by Alfred Noyes.

Then at last they found their little brother Peterkin in "The Babe of Bethlehem."

And if this were not enough to make the reader see how completely and wholly and sympathetically Noyes understood the child heart, hear this word from his great soul:

"Kind little eyes that I love, Eyes forgetful of mine, In a dream I am bending above Your sleep and you open and s.h.i.+ne; And I know as my own grow blind With a lonely prayer for your sake, He will hear--even me--little eyes that were kind, G.o.d bless you, asleep or awake!"

Collected Poems by Alfred Noyes.