79 



IOWA ORNITHOLOGIST. 



Wings. 



Human life is chiefly concerned 

 with material wants, food cloth- 

 ing, accumulating wealth, and in 

 attaining the applause of the mul- 

 titude; but to many, if not to most 

 of us, there comes a time when 

 we feel how empty is such a life, 

 how narrow its bounds; like Sol- 

 omon, we are tempted to say, 

 "vanity of vanities, all is vanity. 

 What profit hath a man of all his 

 labor which he taketh under the 

 sun. 0)ie generation passeth 

 away and another generation 

 Cometh, but the earth abideth 

 forever. The thing that hath 

 been, it is that which shall be; 

 and that which is done is that 

 which shall be done, and there is 

 no nevv thing under the sun." 

 Such pessimism is best overcome 

 by going to the birds for philos- 

 ophy. They are the true opti- 

 mists. Each returning morning 

 they hail the dawn with a song, 

 as full of gladness as if it had 

 been that first morn when the 

 morning stars sang together. At 

 evening their "lucid notes close 

 the eye of day." To -one who 

 loves the birds, the v/orld is 

 never old or worn out; it is al- 

 ways new. Their notes in early 

 spring awaken memories of child- 

 hood. In antumn their depart- 

 ure tells of lands of perpetual 

 sunshine. Of those which re- 

 main with us through the win 

 ter's storms we learn lessons of 



trust and coui-age; and so not a 

 day of the entire year, but their 

 ministry is felt in widening the 

 bounds of life; in upholding the 

 skies from falling upon us; in 

 making us more worthy to dwell 

 on this earth. 



But we need eyes to see and 

 ears to hear. Not all of us see 

 half the beauty of the birds; nor 

 do we hear a tithe of the wood- 

 land harmonics, nor have learned 

 even the most rudimentary les- 

 sons that birds have to teach us. 

 We need, not the eyes and ears 

 of the mere naturalist, we need 

 the eyes and ears of the priest of 

 nature. If we are ever to have 

 an American literature we must 

 interpret the lessons of the birds, 

 which we see every daj^ in the 

 woods, meadows, by the water- 

 courses and not tlie sky larks, 

 linnets, cuckoos, and nightin- 

 gales that have graced the liter- 

 ature of the old world. The red- 

 breast of England is not our 

 robin; but we must have our robin 

 so interwoven with our life, that 

 it will be all to us, that the red - 

 breast is to the life of England. 

 Our mocking bird is equally as 

 worthy of a laureate as the night- 

 ingale of Milton; our meadow 

 lark is as inspiring as Shelley's 

 sky lark, in variety of song, and 

 tenderness of associations with 

 the fields and pastures. 



