WALKS IN 



NEW ENGLAND 



Come ! Thou Song Sparrow 



THE vernal equinox is past, and all the 

 storms are here of snow and sleet and 

 rain, and winter still wages his perpetual 

 quarrel with spring. Late is the coming of 

 spring, long is the winter s persistence ; the birds 

 on the wing from the south wait for the south 

 wind s assistance ; a few of the bluebirds have 

 come, but where is the daring song-sparrow that 

 sings over snowdrifts of home when the March 

 wind is chilling the marrow ? Dumb are the 

 fence-rails he lights on, silent the bush and the 

 brier. Oh ! for the charm that delights one 

 when the sun rises red as a fire, and the sparrow 

 springs swift from the ground in bright unre- 

 strainable joy, and in a sweet whirlwind of sound 

 lets out the whole secret employ of the spell of 

 the opening season, then we know that the 

 spring is at hand, we know that in rhyme and 

 in reason new life is at work in the land. Come, 



13 



