A BIRD ANTHOLOGY FROM LOWELL. 



257 



The Baltimore oriole also claims Mr. Lowell's 

 admiration. There is one descriptive passage rela- 

 tive to this bird that, in my opinion, goes ahead 

 of even the famous bobolink eulogy just quoted : 



" Hush I 'T is he I 

 My oriole, my glance of summer fire, 

 Is come at last, and, ever on the watch. 

 Twitches the pack-thread I had lightly wound 

 About the hough to help his housekeeping, — 

 Twitches and scouts by turns, blessing his luck, 

 Yet fearing me who laid it in his way. 

 Nor, more than wiser we in our affairs, 

 Divines the providence that hides and helps. 

 Heave, ho ! Heave, ho ! he whistles as the twine 

 Slackens its hold ; once more, now ! and a flash 

 Lightens across the sunlight to the elm 

 Where his mate dangles at her cup of felt. 

 Nor all his booty is the thread ; he trails 

 My loosened thought with it along the air. 

 And I must follow, would I ever find 

 The inward rhyme to all this wealth of life.'' 



The last sentence is a deft turn at weaving, oriole- 

 like, a thread of moral reflection into a fine piece of 

 description. Even in his later years Lowell could 

 not throw off the spell that this summer flake of 

 gold had thrown over him ; for in his volume called 

 " Heartsease and Rue " he has inserted a little 

 poem entitled "The Nest " that for rhythmical flow 

 and beauty has not been excelled by any of his 

 earlier productions. He first describes the nest in 

 May as follows : — 



" Then from the honeysuckle gray 

 The oriole with experienced quest 

 17 



