A BIRD ANTHOLOGY FROM LOWELL. 245 
that I am familiar with every bird whose charms he 
has chanted. Indeed, he himself boasts modestly, 
as poets may, of his familiarity with the birds in his 
beautiful tribute to George William Curtis, saying, — 
“T learned all weather-signs of day and night ; 
No bird but I could name him by his flight.” 
In the first place, let me point out the remarkable 
felicity of his more general references to birds and 
their ways. ‘The music of the minstrels of the air 
often fills his bosom with pleasing but half-regretful 
reminders of other and happier days, as, for 
example, when he penned those exquisite lines, 
“To Perdita, Singing,’’ — 
“She sits and sings, 
With folded wings 
And white arms crost, 
‘Weep not for bygone things, 
They are not lost.’” 
Then follow some lines of rare sweetness, the 
concluding ones of wnich are these, — 
“Every look and every word 
Which thou givest forth to-day, 
Tells of the singing of the bird 
Whose music stilled thy boyish play.” 
A similar pensive reference is found in our poet’s 
ode, “To the Dandelion,” which is as deserving 
of admiration as many of the more famous odes 
of English poesy. He thus apostrophizes “the 
common flower” that fringes “the dusty road with 
harmless gold,’? — 
