22 THE RETURN OF THE BIRDS. 



here by the last week in May, yet the swal- 

 lows and orioles are the most conspicuous. 

 The bright plumage of the latter seems 

 really like an arrival from the tropics. I 

 see them dash through the blossoming trees, 

 and all the forenoon hear their incessant 

 warbling and wooing. The swallows dive 

 and chatter about the barn, or squeak and 

 build beneath the eaves, the partridge drums 

 in the fresh sprouting woods ; the long, ten- 

 der note of the meadow-lark comes up from 

 the meadow ; and at sunset, from every 

 marsh and pond come the ten thousand 

 voices of the hylas. May is the transition 

 month, and exists to connect April and June, 

 the root with the flower. 



With June the cup is full, our hearts are 

 satisfied, there is no more to be desired. The 

 perfection of the season, among other things, 

 has brought the perfection of the song and 

 plumage of the birds. The master artists 

 are all here ; and the expectations excited 

 by the robin and the song-sparrow are fully 

 justified. The thrushes have all come ; and 

 I sit down upon the first rock, with hands 

 full of the pink azalea, to listen. With me 

 the cuckoo does not arrive till June ; and of- 

 ten the goldfinch, the king-bird, the scarlet 



