APRIL. 87 



drifts, relics of the great storm of the preceding March ; 

 and for four long weeks the west wind had miles of snow- 

 clad country over which to pass before it reached us. 

 Even the resident birds grew tired of it at last, and never 

 were the hill-side and the meadows so silent as during the 

 last days, save two, of the month. 



A friend had come from Massachusetts to see and hear 

 the many warblers that pass by in April, en route for their 

 northern summer haunts ; and, too, to hear such song- 

 birds as do not reach New England. What folly on my 

 part to have promised anything of these same birds ! 



We threaded many a tangled brake, 



Then traced the river's shore ; 

 We lingered where the marshes quake, 



We tramped the meadows o'er ; 

 We listened long for some sweet song 



Of summer's tuneful host ; 

 But never a note from any throat, 



Each silent as a ghost. 



Through the lone, trackless swamp we strayed ; 



Full many a field we crossed ; 

 The pathless bog our steps delayed, 



The ancient landmark lost — 

 We stood in vain, some fancied strain 



To hear ; alas ! instead, 

 Nor sky nor ground gave forth a sound. 



The very air was dead. 



Cloud-wrapped and sad so closed the day, 



As sullen proved the night ; 

 The sun shed not his parting ray, 



The stars withheld their light. 

 No bat so bold to quit his hold. 



Nor owl dared venture forth ; 

 The swift brook moaned, the tall tree groaned, 



While breathed the icy north. 



Six consecutive outings, each for the greater part of 

 the day, yielded the poor showing of but fifty- five spe- 



