Alain
de Lille describes Nature’s bird-covered gown in his De planctu naturae (c. 1170)
A garment, woven from silky wool and covered
with many colors, was as the virgin's robe of state. Its appearance perpetually
changed with many a different color and manifold hue. At first it startled the
sight with the white radiance of the lily. Next, as if its simplicity had been
thrown aside and it were striving for something
better, it glowed with rosy 'life. Then, reaching the
height of perfection, it gladdened the
sight with the greenness of the emerald. Moreover, spun exceedingly fine, so as
to escape the scrutiny of the eye, it was so delicate of substance that you
would think it and the air of the same nature. On it, as a picture fancied to
the sight, was being held
a parliament of the living creation. There the eagle, first assuming youth,
then age, and finally returning to the first, changed from Nestor to Adonis.
There the hawk, chief of the realm of the air, demanded tribute from its subjects with violent tyranny.
The kite assumed the character of hunter, and in its
stealthy preying seemed like the ghost of the hawk. The falcon stirred up
civil war against the heron, though this was not divided with equal balance,
for that should not be thought of by the name of war where you strike, but I
only am struck. The ostrich, disregarding a worldly life for a lonely, dwelt
like a hermit in solitudes of desert places. The swan, herald of its own death,
foretold with its honey-sweet lyre of music the stopping of its life. There on
the peacock Nature had rained so great a treasure-store of beauty that you
would think she afterwards would have gone begging. The phoenix died in its
real self, but, by some miracle of nature, revived in another, and in its death
aroused itself from the dead. The bird of concord paid tribute to Nature by
decimating its brood. There lived sparrows, shrunk to low, pygmean
atoms; while the crane opposite went to the excess of gigantic size. The
pheasant, after it had endured the confinement of its natal island, flew into
our worlds, destined to become the delight of princes. The cock, a popular astrologer, told
with its voice's clock the divisions of the hours. But the wild cock derided
its domestic idleness, and roamed abroad, wandering ·through
the woody regions. The horned owl, prophet of misery, sang psalms of future
deep sorrowing. The night owl was so gross with the dregs of ugliness that you
would think that Nature had dozed at its making. The crow predicted things to
come in the excitement of vain chatter. The dubiously colored magpie kept up a
sleepless attention to argument. The jackdaw treasured trifles of its
commendable thieving, showing the signs of inborn avarice. The dove, drunk with
the sweet Dionean evil, labored at the sport of Cypris. The raven, hating the shame of rivalry, did not
confess for its brood its own offspring, until the sign of dark color was
disclosed, whereupon, as if disputing with itself it acknowledged the fact. The
partridge shunned now the attacks of the powers of the air, now the traps of
hunters, now the warning barks of dogs. The duck and the goose wintered,
according to the same law of living, in their native land of streams. The
turtle-dove, widowed of its mate, scorned to return to love, and refused the consolation
of marrying again. The parrot on the anvil of its throat fashioned the coin of
human speech. There the trick of a false voice beguiled the quail, ignorant of
the deceit of the serpent's figure. The woodpecker, architect of its own small
house, with its beak's pick made a little retreat in an oak. The hedgesparrow, putting aside the role of step-mother, with
the maternal breast of devotion adopted as its child the alien offspring of the
cuckoo; but the offspring, though the subject of so great a boon, yet knew
itself not as own son, but as stepchild. The swallow returned from its
wandering, and made with mud under a beam its nest and home. The nightingale,
renewing the complaint of its ravishment, and making music of harmonious
sweetness, gave excuse for the fall of its chastity. The lark, like a
high-souled musician, offered the lyre of its throat, not with the artfulness
of study but with the mastery of nature, as one most skilled in the lore of
melody; and refining its tones into finer, separated these little notes into
inseparable chains. The bat, bird of double sex, held the rank of cipher among
small birds. These living things, although as it were in allegory moving there,
seemed to exist actually.