FLIGHT OF COMMON BIRDS 



has limned its motion, nor have the poets 

 caught its myriad complexities. In morning's 

 dew-sprinkled paths, over the noon's broad 

 gates, and when twilight weaves the sombre 

 threads that darken toward the west, the 

 birds fly past, each with its own individual 

 sweep of wing, each distinct in its place, 

 etched dark against the timber - lines, or 

 tipped and gilded by the trailing streamers 

 of the sun. The swallow, the dove, the yel- 

 low-hammer, humming-bird, robin, blackbird, 

 blue - jay, nighthawk, wild canary, shrike, 

 meadow-lark, bat, and many more. And the 

 average man looks and sees nothing as he 

 did in Wordsworth's day: 



" A primrose by the river's brim 

 A yellow primrose was to him 

 And it was nothing more." 



The swallow's flight I class as most gypsy- 

 like, roving and revelling in curves; most 

 buoyant, least hinting of exertion, and grace- 

 ful as a vine. Around the lakes, over the 

 river-currents, by meadow and slope the swal- 

 low flies. The purple martin, or house- 

 swallow, also known as barn-swallow, is one 

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