A BIRD ANTHOLOGY FROM LOWELL. 251 
If one were only there to see : — 
“ High flaps in sparkling blue the far-heard crow, 
The silvered flats gleam frostily below ; 
Suddenly drops the gull, and breaks the glassy tide.” 
Of course even the casual observer has often 
been aware of the fact that “the robin is plastering 
his house hard by;”’ and many of us may have 
looked upon a winter scene like the following, but 
I am sure we never thought of painting it in just 
such tropical colors, — 
“ The river was numb, and could not speak, 
For the weaver Winter its shroud had spun; 
A single crow on the tree-top bleak 
From his shining feathers shed off the cold sun.” 
Hosea Biglow seems to think he knows where 
to find 
“ Some blooms thet make the season suit the mind, 
An’ seem to match the doubting bluebird’s notes,” 
liverworts and bloodroots being among those talis- 
manic plants. ‘There is a world of serenity in the 
following metrical etching, which makes one almost 
long to die and be forever at rest : — 
“ Happy their end 
Who vanish down life’s evening stream 
Placid as swans that drift in dream 
Round the next river-bend.” 
Our poet had the charming habit of making some 
characteristic bird-way do deft metaphorical duty in 
