HERMIT THRUSH 385 



On a low bough of a small maple near the brook in the 

 swamp, he sits with ruffled feathers, singing more low 

 or with less power, as it were ventriloquizing ; forthough 

 I am scarcely more than a rod off, he seems further off 

 than ever. 



May 1, 1852. I hear the first catbird also, mewing, 

 and the wood thrush, which still thrills me, — a sound 

 to be heard in a new country, — from one side of a 

 clearing. 



May 3, 1852. The wood thrush reminds me of cool 

 mountain springs and morning walks. 



April 27, 1854. The wood thrush afar, — so superior 

 a strain to that of other birds. I was doubting if it 

 would affect me as of yore, but it did measurably. I did 

 not believe there could be such differences. This is the 

 gospel according to the wood thrush. He makes a sab- 

 bath out of a week-day. I could go to hear him, could 

 buy a pew in his church. Did he ever practice pulpit 

 eloquence ? He is right on the slavery question. 



April 21, 1855. At Cliffs, I hear at a distance a wood 

 thrush. It affects us as a part of our unfallen selves. 



June 22, 1856. R. W. E. imitates the wood thrush 

 by he willy willy — ha willy willy — willy O. 



[/See also under Nighthawk, p. 209.] 



AMERICAN EOBIN 



March 26, 1846. The change from foul weather to 

 fair, from dark, sluggish hours to serene, elastic ones, 

 is a memorable crisis which all things proclaim. The 

 change from foulness to serenity is instantaneous. Sud- 

 denly an influx of light, though it was late, filled my 



