THE HEEMIT THRUSH. 
Where Saco water with resistless current pours 
O'er its last ledge in search of meadow shores; 
Where grim Chocorua and slender Kiarsarge 
Keep guatrji ^^gainst the eastern storm wind' 
charge ; 
Among those dense spruce groves which hide th 
mountain's flanks 
And in the endless pineries which hedge the river'? 
banks, 
There dwells, unknown, unsought for by the mas'- 
of men, 
The rarest songbird of New England's glen. 
.When first mysterious night giw^es place to mistj 
day, 
This plaintive minstrel sounds to rustling wood^. 
his lay ; 
While the hot noonday sun stills every note beside 
His song flows onward far with undiminished tide; 
At last, when vesper's calm sweet hour is nigh, 
With swallows speeding westwai'd o'er the rosy sky, 
His matchless utterance like a benediction falls, 
And ushers in night's peace to hush day's noisy 
calls. 
. —Frank Bolles. 
