The Birds and Poets 131 



example, one will hear the broken attempts of 

 the young birds learning to sing, mingled with 

 the listless, spiritless half-measured refrains of the 

 old birds. At this season the full evening hymn 

 of the robin, so familiar in spring and early sum- 

 mer, is never heard. Their songs are now at a 

 low ebb: 



"The pulse that flutters faint and low 

 When summer's seething breezes blow." 



Even the beloved bobolinks quit singing in July, 

 or limit themselves to a few unfamiliar notes. 

 These delightful birds come to us about the 15th 

 of May, and leave again for the rice fields of the 

 south, on their way to Brazil, about August 10. 

 It is not at all remarkable that opinion seems to 

 be well-nigh unanimous that the bobolink is one 

 of our most charming birds. Any comprehensive 

 anthology of bobolink poetry would in itself make 

 a volume of considerable proportions. Their bril- 

 liant black plumage, with white or cream buff 

 patches, the gurgling laughter of their song, and 

 their rollicking, topsy-turvy flight make up a group 

 of accomplishments and charms of which few of 

 our birds may boast. The fluttering flight over 

 the clover blossoms is always accompanied by the 

 bubbling song, as it "runs down, a brook 0' laugh- 

 ter through the air," as Lowell happily expresses 

 it. And after witnessing this joyous performance 



