cxvi 
LIFE OF WILSON. 
that he had this deliglitful poem in his eye, we are convinced by some of the 
descriptions and sentiments. The stanza beginning, 
"In these green solitudes, one favorite spot," 
is accurately descriptive of a place, in Bartram's woods, whither he used to 
retire for the purposes of reading and contemplation, and where he planned 
his Ornithology. Of the faults of this little poem I will merely remark, that 
the initial quatrain is prosaic ; and that the last line betrays an unaccountable 
deficiency of taste. 
The lovers of rural scenery will learn with regret, that this fine piece of 
forest, consecrated to the 31uses of poetry and natural history, by Wilson, is 
fast disappearing beneath the axe of the husbandman. Already is the brook, 
which was o'erhung with alders and mantling vines," exposed to the glare 
of day; the favorite haunts of the Wood Thrush are invaded; and, ere long, 
like his lamented historian, his place will be known there no more. 
His poetical description of tlie ]51ue-bird, which originally appeared in the 
first volume of the Ornithology, has been copied into many publications, and 
still maintains its popularity. It contains some ill-constructed lines, and 
some I'hymes so grossly defective, that we wonder how he could have tole- 
rated them in a production of only half a dozen stanzas. The last quatrain 
of the fourth stanza contains false syntax; the construction is not regular and 
dependent, the adverb so being out of place. In the third stanza there is a 
grammatical error. Yet in this little poem, Wilson's happy talent of describ- 
ing rural scenery, and the habits of birds, is conspicuous. The picture is 
charming, and more so to an American, who knows how beautifully accurate 
are its outlines. We see the disappearing of the snows of Winter ; the busy 
labors of the fishermen ; the wild geese laboring their airy way to the north ; the 
lone butterfly fluttering over the meadows ; the red maple buds bursting iiito 
life ; and, finally, " the herald of Spring," the well-known blue-bii'd, hailing 
" with his warblings the charms of the season." The warm sunshine brings 
out the frogs from their retreats, and their piping is heard throughout the 
marshes; the woodland flowers unfold their charms to the eye ; and the indus- 
trious housewives repair to their gardens. The useful bird is beheld flitting 
through the orchard in search of noxious insects, he drag's the devouring grub 
from the newly-planted maize, and the caterpillars from their webs. The 
ploughman is pleased to behold him gleaning in his furrows, and the gardener 
suspends his labors to listen to his simple song. " When all the gay scenes of 
the summer are o'er," we observe him lingering about his native home, like a 
solitary outcast; we hear his melancholy adieu fi-om the leafless branch, and 
mourn his departure as tliat of a beloved friend. 
Of all Wilson's minor effusions this pleases me the most. Its imagery is de- 
rived from objects that are familiar to us, but yet it is not trite ; none but an at- 
tentive observer of nature could have conceived it, and expressed it so naturally. 
It appears to have been his intention to concentrate all his poetical powers 
in his " Foresters," resting his hope of fame chiefly upon this production. 
That the time spent in constructing it, might have been better employed in 
writing a simple prose narrative of a journey, which was fruitful of interesting 
