Songs of the Fields 



fluence of this gold bath that all creation has be- 

 come intoxicated with it for centuries. Poets sing 

 it, artists paint it, and natural historians wrestle 

 with it thus. 



It appeals to me that this would be a fine time 

 to celebrate the Xew Year. Why should we call 

 the first of January the "Xew Year?" There is The New 

 nothing new about a continuation of the same New ' Year 

 dead, shut-in winter season. Why go around cry- 

 ing, "Happy Xew Year!" when nothing is new 

 and people are least happy of all their lives? 



But when winter flees at the awakening of 

 spring, when March winds arouse us, when earth 

 thrusts up tender grow r th to signal us that she is 

 ready for seed-bearing, when nature is given a new 

 robe, the sky pure air; when the birds come home, 

 animals creep from hibernation, and the Almighty 

 showers His gold, everything is refreshed, even 

 the oldest hearts of us. Just for the sake of con- 

 sistency the year should be new when the earth 

 awakens, when human as well as bird, insect, and 

 animal hearts are glad, when the soul is uplifted, 

 when for a few days all nature is rich enough lit- 

 erally to bathe in gold. 



Among the few musicians that have arrived at 

 this time in birdland the skylark soars pre-eminent. 

 Xot that he is more beautiful than his fellows, 

 although he comes in time to stripe his head and 

 cover his heart with the choicest of the gold. The 

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