e himself up to the exhilarating effects of renovated
nature. The "flower of flowers," in his eyes, was the daisy, and there
was never a morning that he was not out at dawn in the meadows, kneeling
on the "soft, sweet grass," and watching his little favourite unclose
its petals to the sun. In the evening he returned to see the daisies "go
to rest," and no sooner were they shut up than he hastened home to bed,
that he might be awake in time to witness the renewal of the scene. The
sight was to him so "blissful" that it "softened all his sorrow," nor
did the commonness of the occurrence abate the charm. He protests that
he still feels within him the fire which impelled him to rise with glad
devotion before break of day that he might behold the resurrection of
his cherished flower, and do it reverence; for the friendly daisy was--

Ever alike fair and fresh of hue,
And I love it, and ever alike new,
And ever shall till that mine hearte die.

These traits present a charming picture of the man, and they are
enhanced by the modesty which accompanied his greatness. He always
speaks of his writings with unaffected humility, as those of a person
who from taste was a diligent cultivator of poetry without possessing
the faculty to become a worthy poet.

The House of Fame cannot be ranked with Chaucer's best productions. The
incidents are supposed to pass in a dream, which was his ordinary plan
for avoiding the infringement of probability when he exchanged
terrestrial realities for the visions of fancy. He repeatedly in his
works does homage to the happy influence of love. He maintained that it
was the parent of the choicest qualities among mankind, though he
sometimes adulterates his loftier sentiments by intermingling voluptuous
passion with the pure affections of the heart,--a defect which was usual
with the mediaeval "gestours." He reverts in the House of Fame to his
favourite theme, and the first book is taken up with a description of
the temple of Venus. The entire edifice was of glass that was radiant
with paintings representing subjects from Ovid and Virgil. Chaucer
flourished in the finest period of Gothic architecture, when the
"storied windows richly dight" were the delight of the age, and his
detailed enumeration of the pictured incidents were not, to his
contemporaries, the dry catalogue they may appear to us. After examining
the marvellous gallery, he walks out of the building to seek for some
one