286 THE SONG. 
of the fields, the gaiety of the country, the lark responds with his 
song, and bears aloft to heaven the joys of earth. 
Thus, then, everywhere, above the vast instrumental concert of 
nature, above her deep sighs. above the sonorous waves which escape 
from the divine organ, a vocal music springs and detaches itself— 
that of the bird, almost always in vivid notes. which strike sharply 
on this solemn base with the ardent strokes of a bow. 
Winged voices, voices of fire, angel voices. emanations of an 
intense life superior to ours, of a fugitive and mobile existence. which 
inspires the traveller doomed to a well-beaten track with the serenest 
thoughts and the dream of liberty. 
Just as vegetable life renews itself in spring by the return of the 
leaves. is animal life renewed, rejuvenified by the return of the birds. 
by their loves, and by their strains. There is nothinz like it in the 
southern hemisphere, a youthful world in an inferior condition, which, 
still in travail, aspires to find a voice. That supreme flower of life 
and the soul, Seng. is not vet given to it. 
The beautiful, the sublime phenomenon of this higher aspect of 
the world occurs at the moment that Nature commences her voiceless 
concert of leaves and blossoms. her melodies of March and April, her 
symphony of May, and we all vibrate to the glorious harmony; men 
and birds take up the strain. At that moment the smallest become 
poets, often sublime songsters. They sing for their companions whose 
love they wish to gain. They sing for those who hearken to them, 
and more than one accomplishes incredible efforts of emulation. 
Man also responds to the bird. The song of the one inspires the 
other with song. Harmony unknown in tropic climes! The dazzling 
colours which there replace this concord of sweet sounds do not create 
such a mutual bond. In a robe of sparkling gems, the bird is not 
less alone. 
Far different from this favoured, dazzling, glittering being are 
the birds of our colder countries, humble in attire, rich in heart, but 
almost paupers. Few, very few of them, seek the handsome gardens, 
the aristocratic avenues, the shade of great parks. They all live 
