MEADOWLARK 



To many the meadowlark is "only a voice." His back 

 is so nearly the color of the meadow, it takes a keen eye 

 indeed to discover him. His beauty a golden-yellow 

 vest adorned with a necklace of richest jet is reserved 

 for his mate. 



The bobolink's mood is one of care-free happiness; the 

 meadow-lark's suggests the fervent joy that is akin to 

 pain. 



FLORENCE A. MERRIAM. Birds of Village and Field. 1 



I see a lark flashing his white tail and showing his hand- 

 some yellow breast with its black crescent like an Indian 

 locket. 



THOREAU. Summer. 18 



His flight is very characteristic, consisting of a few 

 rapid movements and then a long sail. Shelley's lines, 

 though written of another bird, fit him to perfection: 



In the golden lightning 



Of the sunken sun, 

 O'er which clouds are brightening 



Thou dost float and run. 



M. A. WILLCOX. The Common Land Birds of New England. 29 



What a twang there is about this bird and what vigor! 

 It smacks of the soil. It is the winged embodiment of 

 the spirit of our spring meadows. What emphasis in 

 its "z-d-t, z-d-t," and what character in its long piercing 



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