236 THE SONG. 



of the fields, the gaiety of the country, the lark responds with his 

 song, and bears aloft to heaven the joys of earth. 



Thus, then, everywhere, above the vast instrumental concert of 

 nature, above her deep sighs, above the sonorous waves which escape 

 from the divine organ, a vocal music springs and detaches itself 

 that of the bird, almost always in vivid notes, which strike sharply 

 on this solemn base with the ardent strokes of a bow. 



Winged voices, voices of fire, angel voices, emanations of an 

 intense life superior to ours, of a fugitive and mobile existence, which 

 inspires the traveller doomed to a well-beaten track with the serenest 

 thoughts and the dream of liberty. 



Just as vegetable life renews itself in spring by the return of the 

 leaves, is animal life renewed, rejuvenified by the return of the birds, 

 by their loves, and by their strains. There is nothing like it in the 

 southern hemisphere, a youthful world in an inferior condition, which, 

 still in travail, aspires to find a voice. That supreme flower of life 

 and the soul, Song, is not yet given to it. 



The beautiful, the sublime phenomenon of this higher aspect of 

 the world occurs at the moment that Nature commences her voiceless 

 concert of leaves and blossoms, her melodies of March and April, her 

 symphony of May, and we all vibrate to the glorious harmony ; men 

 and birds take up the strain. At that moment the smallest become 

 poets, often sublime songsters. They sing for their companions whose 

 love they wish to gain. They sing for those who hearken to them, 

 and more than one accomplishes incredible efforts of emulation. 

 Man also responds to the bird. The song of the one inspires the 

 other with song. Harmony unknown in tropic climes ! The dazzling 

 colours which there replace this concord of sweet sounds do not create 

 such a mutual bond. In a robe of sparkling gems, the bird is not 

 less alone. 



Far different from this favoured, dazzling, glittering being are 

 the birds of our colder countries, humble in attire, rich in heart, but 

 almost paupers. Few, very few of them, seek the handsome gardens, 

 the aristocratic avenues, the shade of great parks. They all live 



