A FOREST ANTHEM. 151 



Works village, listening to tales of winter hard- 

 ships and spring sickness, for the grip had been 

 making hearts weary even in these fastnesses of 

 the north. Then under the light of the stars I 

 walked on up the Chocorua River valley towards 

 the lakes and the mountain, at whose feet my 

 haven nestled. Lights gleamed and were lost 

 in the valley behind me. Dull masses of fire- 

 light shone upon the smoky sky in three places 

 on the horizon. A torch flashed, went down, 

 and flashed again, marking a spot where a fish- 

 erman was watching, spear in hand, for suckers 

 in a meadow brook. Then, as I reached the 

 crest of the hill, I saw below me the white water 

 of the lakes, and beyond, above, dimly present 

 in the smoky heaven as conscience is present in 

 the mind of man Chocorua. 



The stars burned near it like altar candles. 

 The smoke of fires rose around it like incense, 

 the song of myriad frogs floated softly from the 

 lakes below like the distant chanting of a choir, 

 and the whispering of the wind in the pines 

 was like the moving of many lips in prayer. 



Early the next morning I was out under the 

 cloudless sky listening to the voices of May day. 

 Sparrows were in the majority. Song, field, 

 chipping, vesper, white-throats, and juncos were 

 all there, the white-throats being the most 

 numerous. White-bellied and barn swallows 



