motes of tbe 1FU0bt 



thrilled the springtide warblers' throats, and what 

 a concourse of sweet sounds ! The long avenue, 

 hemmed in by stately pines, has ever a power to 

 hold us, though the coldest blasts of winter rush 

 headlong through it. It is a bit of nature's master- 

 piece in mere woodland scenery; but when the 

 south wind breathes upon it, and urges, too, the 

 early thrushes to return, they are straightway 

 moved to sing in the marvelous light beneath these 

 mighty trees, and we know then the fulness of 

 bird-melody ; and this is but the opening chorus 

 of the young summer's merrymaking the second 

 and greater performance of May magic. 



But, wander where we will, we find no partial- 

 ity shown. There is no neglected spot, whether 

 in the upland fields or in the meadow, the 

 gloomy marshes or the river's lonely shore. I 

 have said the " gloomy " marshes ; they are not 

 so now. The fairy, with her life-giving wand, 

 has threaded their hidden paths and awakened 

 golden bloom of wondrous brilliancy. Not a 

 recess in any marsh is too remote, and hither 

 have been led whole hosts of merry warblers, as 

 bright of plumage as the flowers are gaily tinted. 

 How well they blend! It is no caprice of a 

 madcap that brings them together. May's magic 

 is well considered; and, for the day at least, the 

 " gloomy " marsh rings with the happiness of 

 thanks-giving throats. 



It is probable that without birds, and indeed 

 4* 53 



