SEEING WHAT YOU CAN SEE. 9 



passing along the road beyond tlie woodland. 

 It was a kind of cloistered spot where my dear 

 little friends, the birds, could sing their songs 

 and rear their broods undisturbed. 



Coleridge says, in The Rime of the Ancient 

 Mariner, of the sea through which the ghost- 

 like boat was sailing : 



So lonely 'twas that God himself 

 Scarce seemed there to be. 



But I must hasten to tell you that my meadow 

 was not a place like that. It was sequestered, 

 but by no means lonely. 



Near the middle of the field purled a little 

 brook. It was fringed on either bank with 

 small willows, briers, and bushes of various 

 kinds, and here many birds found a pleasant 

 dwelling iplace. I could not help giving fancy 

 the reins for a little while as I stood at the 

 border of the meadow. Here the bobolinks, 

 meadow larks, song sparrows, brown thrashers, 

 and summer warblers could make the air dance 

 with song all the long summer days. What 

 concerts they must have given early in the 

 mornings ! Here, too, they could build their 

 nests and rear their young unmolested by 

 human foes. What plans for nest building 

 must have buzzed through their wise little 



