BIBDS AND POETS 37 



— have not, as I am aware of, yet had reared to 

 them their merited poetic monument, unless, in- 

 deed, the already named poet of the mockinghird 

 has done this service for the hermit thrush in his 

 "President Lincoln's Burial Hymn." Here the 

 threnody is blent of three chords, the blossoming 

 lilac, the evening star, and the hermit thrush, the 

 latter playing the most prominent part throughout 

 the composition. It is the exalting and spiritual 

 utterance of the "solitary singer" that calms and 

 consoles the poet when the powerful shock of the 

 President's assassination comes upon him, and he 

 flees from the stifling atmosphere and offensive lights 

 and conversation of the house, 



" Forth to hiding, receiving night that talks not, 

 Down to the shores of tlie water, the path by the swamp in the 



dimness, 

 To the solemn shadowy cedars and ghostly pines so still." 



Numerous others of our birds would seem to chal- 

 lenge attention by their calls and notes. There is 

 the Maryland yellow-throat, for instance, standing 

 in the door of his bushy tent, and calling out as 

 you approach, "which way, sir ! which way, sir ! " 

 If he says this to the ear of common folk, what 

 would he not say to the poet? One of the pewees 

 says "stay there!" with great emphasis. The car- 

 dinal grosbeak calls out "what cheer," "what 

 cheer;" the bluebird says "purity," "purity," 

 "purity ; " the brown thrasher, or ferruginous 

 thrush, according to Thoreau, calls out to the farmer 

 planting his, corn, "drop it," "drop it," "cover 



