WILD PASTURES 



chorus in the next breath, and close 

 upon the heels of the sparrow voice 

 come the notes of innumerable warblers 

 of many kinds whose songs you shall 

 not distinguish one from another and 

 name unless you are an expert. Behind 

 these again come the chewinks and 

 thrashers, not so early risers by any 

 means, and very late the catbird. The 

 catbird is clever but, like many clever 

 people, he is lazy. 



Over to the other side of the pasture, 

 a mile from the lane as the crow flies, 

 is a swamp which is part of the pas- 

 ture, indeed, but a part of the wilder- 

 ness beyond, also. It was on the edge 

 of this that I had chosen to meet the 

 dawn, picking my way to it through the 

 darkness in part by scent, for the swamp 

 has a musky fragrance of its own, which 

 it sends far on the night air. Coming 



