380 NOTES ON NEW ENGLAND BIRDS 



vigor. He deepens the significance of all things seen in 

 the light of his strain. He sings to make men take 

 higher and truer views of things. He sings to amend 

 their institutions ; to relieve the slave on the plantation 

 and the prisoner in his dungeon, the slave in the house 

 of luxury and the prisoner of his own low thoughts. 



July 27, 1852. How cool and assuaging the thrush's 

 note after the fever of the day ! I doubt if they have 

 anything so richly wild in Europe. So long a civiliza- 

 tion must have banished it. It will only be heard in 

 America, perchance, while our star is in the ascendant. 

 I should be very much surprised if I were to hear in 

 the strain of the nightingale such unexplored wildness 

 and fertility, reaching to sundown, inciting to emigra- 

 tion. Such a bird must itself have emigrated long ago. 

 Why, then, was I born in America? I might ask. 



May 17, 1853. The wood thrush has sung for some 

 time. He touches a depth in me which no other bird's 

 song does. He has learned to sing, and no thrumming 

 of the strings or tuning disturbs you. Other birds may 

 whistle pretty well, but he is the master of a finer- 

 toned instrument. His song is musical, not from associa- 

 tion merely, not from variety, but the character of its 

 tone. It is all divine, — a Shakespeare among birds, 

 and a Homer too. 



June 12, 1853. The note of the wood thrush answers 

 to some cool, unexhausted morning vigor in the hearer. 



June 14, 1853. The wood thrush launches forth his 

 evening strains from the midst of the pines. I admire 

 the moderation of this master. There is nothing tumul- 

 tuous in his song. He launches forth one strain with all 



