MAY 



And hark ! and hark ! the woodland rings ; 



There thrilled the thrush's soul ; 

 And look ! that flash of flamy wings, 

 The fire-plumed oriole ! 



HOLMES: After a Lecture on Wordsworth. 

 The first whip-poor-will startles me ; I hear 

 three. Summer is coming apace. Within three 

 or four days the birds have come so fast I can 

 hardly keep the run of them, much faster than 

 the flowers. 



THOKEAU: May Daj r s. 



IO 



Early in May, the oaks, hickories, maples, and 

 other trees, just putting out amidst the pine woods 

 around the pond, imparted a brightness like sun- 

 shine to the landscape, especially in cloudy days, 

 as if the sun were breaking through the mists and 

 shining faintly on the hillsides here and there. 



THOEEAU: Walden. 



Whist ! There goes an oriole, a gorgeous crea- 

 ture, flashing from one elm to another, and piping 

 in his happiest manner as he flies. 



TORKEY: The Foot-Path Way. 



