exvi LIFE OF WILSON. 



that he had this delightful poem in his eye, we are convinced by some of the 

 descriptions and sentiments. The stanza beginning, 



"In these green solitudes, one favorite spot," 



is accurately descriptive of a place, in Bartram's woods, whither he used to 

 retire for the purposes of reading and contemplation, and where he planned 

 his Ornithology. Of the faults of this little poem I will merely remark, that 

 the initial quatrain is prosaic ; and that the last line betrays an unaccountable 

 deficiency of taste. 



The lovers of rural scenery will learn with regret, that this fine piece of 

 forest, consecrated to the Muses of poetry and natural history, by Wilson, is 

 fast disappearing beneath the axe of the husbandman. Already is the brook, 

 which was " o'erhung with alders and mantling vines," exposed to the glare 

 of day; the favorite haunts of the Wood Thrush are invaded; and, ere long, 

 like his lamented historian, his place will be known there no more. 



His poetical description of the Blue-bird, which originally appeared in the 

 first volume of the Ornithology, has been copied into many publications, and 

 still maintains its popularity. It contains some ill-constructed lines, and 

 some rhymes so grossly defective, that we wonder how he could have tole- 

 rated them in a production of only half a dozen stanzas. The last quatrain 

 of the fourth stanza contains false syntax ; the construction is not regular and 

 dependent, the adverb so being out of place. In the third stanza there is a 

 grammatical error. Yet in this little poem, Wilson's happy talent of describ- 

 ing rural scenery, and the habits of birds, is conspicuous. The picture is 

 charming, and more so to an American, who knows how beautifully accurate 

 are its outlines. We see the disappearing of the snows of Winter ; the busy 

 labors of the fishermen ; the Wild geese laboring their airy way to the north ; the 

 lone butterfly fluttering over the meadows ; the red maple buds bursting into 

 life ; and, finally, " the herald of Spring," the well-known blue-bird, hailing 

 " with his warblings the charms of the season." The warm sunshine brings 

 out the frogs from their retreats, and their piping is heard throughout the 

 marshes; the woodland flowers unfold their charms to the eye ; and the indus- 

 trious housewives repair to their gardens. The useful bird is beheld flitting 

 through the orchard in search of noxious insects, he drags the devouring grub 

 from the newly-planted maize, and the caterpillars from their webs. The 

 ploughman is pleased to behold him gleaning in his furrows, and the gardener 

 suspends his labors to listen to his simple song. " When all the gay scenes of 

 the summer are o'er," we observe him lingering about his native home, like a 

 solitary outcast; we hear his melancholy adieu from the leafless branch, and 

 mourn his departure as that of a beloved friend. 



Of all Wilson's minor effusions this pleases me the most. Its imagery is de- 

 rived from objects that are familiar to us, but yet it is not trite ; none but an at- 

 tentive observer of nature could have conceived it, and expressed it so naturally. 



It appears to have been his intention to concentrate all his poetical powers 

 in his " Foresters," resting his hope of fame chiefly upon this production. 

 That the time spent in constructing it, might have been better employed in 

 writing a simple prose narrative of a journey, which was fruitful of interesting 



