Intimations. 27 



shelter from the cutting north wind, the buds of 

 the brave maples are ruddy. Even the chilly 

 waters are not without promise, and that dainty, 

 crimson-decked creature, the fairy shrimp, lights 

 up the shady pool with flashes of brilliant color. 

 We have but to look and listen. Many a wood- 

 bird has abundant faith, and far off among the 

 cedars I hear the love-call of the black-cap, and 

 that sweetest of all sounds, the anticipatory warble 

 of the bluebird. To hear this is to be well repaid, 

 whatever you may have undergone. It soothes 

 the smart of every pricking thorn. What fairy 

 structure will not rise at the mind's bidding and 

 shape itself a thing of beauty to the bluebird's 

 song! Nature, here where I stand, is in truth 

 repulsively brutal; the margin of the swamp is 

 but scattered ruins of last winter's storms; but 

 how the jagged edges round off and meet their 

 neighbors ! how green the dead rushes grow ! 

 how quickly the naked branches of a lone tree 

 bend to the little arbor of my early home, while 

 that song of songs fills all the upper air ! The 

 song of the bluebird works a greater miracle than 

 any magician's wand. 



