Lament of the Maple Tree (Poem by James McIntyre)

Lament of the Maple Tree

By James McIntyre

A VISION

"We had a dream which was not all a dream." — Byron.

I laid me down one day in June,

It was late long afternoon,

A very sultry summer's eve,

Such times the senses oft deceive,

The place was 'neath a maple tree,

Soon from all cares and troubles free,

By a gentle, kindly slumber,

No more our sorrows we could number,

But we heard a plaintive wail

Such as we find in fairy tale,

It was the genius of the tree

Who in sad guise appeared to me,

And then she sadly did give vent

Unto this awful grave lament:

Though I am gay in month of June,

All decked in green, yet very soon,

Alas my beauty will be faded

And my charms be all degraded,

For is my time of glory brief,

So often flattered is my leaf.

In Canada so broad and free

All poets sing of the maple tree,

High I stand in their opinion,

Emblem of the New Dominion,

The reason I do them upbraid

Some never slept beneath my shade,

And yet they take the liberty

To chant about the maple tree,

They dare to poetise my leaf,

This is the source of all my grief,

I think their praises all so rude

And as but base ingratitude,

So often hackneyed is my name

That every fall I burn with shame,

Like maiden's cheek which blushes red

When vain rash youth asks her to wed,

Then do these foolish ones descry

In me fresh beauty and they sigh,

And then renew their songs of praise.

But unto me how sad their lays,

For then I know my days are brief,

'Tis hectic flush upon my leaf;

True poets then should mournful sing

When the destroyer's on the wing,

For then I know my leaves of gold

Will all soon mingle with the mould,

No one does ever think to praise

The fell destroyer when he slays,

None rejoice in the flushed cheek

When the poor girl is low and weak,

Perhaps they'll say and it is true

In spring my glories I'll renew,

But 'tis poor comfort after all

To lose my offspring every fall,

Small consolation to mother

To tell her that soon another

Will replace her fond darling boy

Who has been source of all her joy,

But you know all about my wood

You know that it is strong and good,

And I have full many a curl

And pleasing eye and charming nurl,

Some love me as fond nature grained

And some prefer my beauty stained,

But my dear friend I hope that you

My varied shades love pure and true,

For of the woods you know the staple

Stoutest and best is good maple,

The youth my sugar eat with glee,

And old maids love me in their tea,

In me do various uses meet

In summer shade, in winter heat,

For I do make a glorious blaze

All worthy of the poet's lays,

But to their praises I'll be deaf

If more they harp about my leaf.

They call me gay when I am sober

To me 'tis gloomy month October,

But saints on earth when they die

Hope for true bliss beyond the sky,

So winter does bring no alarms

Though it strip bare my trunk and arms,

For now I know that time will bring

More glorious foliage in the spring,

Then all nature will rejoice

Triumphing with glorious voice,

And birds will in my branches sing

Hosannas to the lovely spring.

Notefoot:

The nurls and birds' eyes and curls were highly prized in furniture thirty years ago, when we used the smooth plain.

Poem Analysis:

McIntyre’s “Lament of the Maple Tree” is a whimsical and deeply symbolic poem that blends elements of nature poetry, social satire, and personification to explore themes of vanity, impermanence, misuse, and renewal. In the voice of a personified maple tree, McIntyre gives life to the silent dignity and seasonal suffering of one of Canada’s most iconic natural emblems. Beneath the playful tone and rustic charm, the poem offers a subtle critique of superficial praise, poetic cliché, and human inconsistency.

Summary and Structure

The poem opens with a narrator reclining beneath a maple tree on a hot June afternoon, falling into a gentle slumber. In this dreamlike state, the “genius” or spirit of the maple tree appears and begins to lament her fate. Though adored in poetry and admired for her foliage—particularly in autumn—she feels misunderstood, exploited, and unappreciated in more meaningful ways. The tree critiques shallow poetic flattery, mourns the temporary nature of her beauty, and ultimately finds solace in seasonal cycles and spiritual renewal.

The poem is composed in rhyming couplets with a straightforward AABB pattern, lending a folk-like rhythm that complements its rural, conversational tone.

Themes

1. Impermanence and the Pain of Praise

At the core of the tree’s lament is the pain of being loved only at her peak—especially for the beauty of her autumn leaves, which symbolize decay as much as splendor. The line:

“’Tis hectic flush upon my leaf;”

invokes the flush of a dying patient, revealing the sorrow beneath the fiery beauty of fall. The maple tree feels misrepresented by poets who glorify this red hue without acknowledging its deeper meaning—the herald of death and decline.

2. Superficiality of Human Praise

The tree expresses disdain for poets who have never even rested beneath her shade, yet sing her praises:

“Some never slept beneath my shade,

And yet they take the liberty

To chant about the maple tree,”

This criticism extends beyond botany into a broader satire of inauthentic art—those who appropriate symbols without connection or understanding. The maple’s frustration is amplified by being typecast into a cliché, her name "so often hackneyed" that it causes her to “burn with shame.”

3. Utility and Underappreciated Virtue

Beyond her looks, the maple emphasizes her practical gifts: wood, syrup, shade, and fire. She is not merely a poetic image but a vital resource. This shift in tone—from lyrical complaint to pride in utility—adds dimension to the tree’s identity:

“In me do various uses meet

In summer shade, in winter heat,”

This blend of function and form mirrors human worth beyond appearance—virtues like strength, resilience, and quiet generosity that often go unsung.

4. Cycles of Death and Renewal

The maple tree ends her lament not in bitterness, but with hope. Like a saint anticipating resurrection, she views winter not as death, but as prelude to rebirth:

“For now I know that time will bring

More glorious foliage in the spring,”

This vision of seasonal resurrection provides a spiritual resolution. The tree’s suffering is not eternal—it is part of a larger, sacred rhythm of nature. Spring brings healing, song, and joy, as birds return to sing “Hosannas to the lovely spring.”

Tone and Voice

The tone shifts between:

• Melancholic and wounded (when speaking of ingratitude and decline),
• Satirical and ironic (when criticizing poets),
• Earnest and proud (in describing her material value), and
• Spiritual and serene (in the conclusion).

McIntyre’s use of personification allows the maple tree to reflect deeply on her own condition, giving voice to a non-human narrator with surprising emotional complexity. This technique blurs the line between pastoral poetry and moral allegory, allowing the reader to hear nature's grievances as analogs to human emotion.

Style and Language

McIntyre uses accessible language, simple rhyme, and a storytelling structure that evokes oral tradition and folk poetry. The poem’s charm lies in its mix of sincerity and satire. Occasional humorous phrases like:

“The youth my sugar eat with glee,

And old maids love me in their tea,”

ground the poem in rural, even homespun imagery, offering moments of levity amid the maple's more solemn reflections.

He also introduces specialized vocabulary—such as “nurl,” “curl,” and “bird’s eyes”—terms used in woodworking, suggesting the poem’s embeddedness in a time when natural materials were prized for both beauty and craftsmanship.

Contextual Notes

McIntyre, often called “The Cheese Poet,” was a 19th-century Canadian poet known for his amateurish but heartfelt verse about everyday life, local pride, and Canadian landscapes. “Lament of the Maple Tree” reflects his dual interest in nature and utility, and his tendency to mix sentimentality with satire.

At a time when the maple leaf was gaining prominence as a Canadian symbol, McIntyre offers a surprisingly reflective commentary on what it means to be a national icon—simultaneously praised, commercialized, and misunderstood.

A Tree’s Bittersweet Song

“Lament of the Maple Tree” is not just a quaint nature poem—it is a gentle critique of superficiality, a meditation on impermanence, and an affirmation of deeper value. Through the voice of a tree, McIntyre captures both the melancholy of fading beauty and the quiet triumph of renewal.

The maple’s complaint is not just botanical—it is human. We, too, feel the sting of being valued only in our finest seasons, misunderstood by those who praise us without knowing us. But like the maple tree, we are reminded that true worth lies not only in appearance, but in enduring usefulness, quiet strength, and the promise of spring after every fall.