548 
A YEAR WITH THE BIRDS 
tropics, and if they could tell us what they did and saw it 
would make even the Wise Men open their eyes. 
One thing you will notice in this spring migration : the 
dull colored birds appear the earliest, and the bright ones, 
like the Tanager, Oriole, Chat, and the brilliant warblers, do not 
usually come until at least some of the trees are in leaf and 
offer them shelter. If these bright birds traveled about when 
everything is bleak and bare they would have no protection 
against their enemies the Hawks and other Birds of Prey, as 
they are called. 
Nature is such a wise, far-seeing mother that she provides 
for all emergencies, if man does not meddle and upset her 
plans. 
The Nest 
When oaken woods with buds are pink, 
And new-come birds each morning sing, 
When fickle May on summer’s brink 
Paiges, and knows not which to fling, 
Whether fresh bud and bloom again, 
Or hoar-frost silvering hill and plain, 
Then from the honeysuckle gray 
The Oriole with experienced quest 
Twitches the fibrous bark away, 
The cordage of his hammock-nest, 
Cheering his labor with a note 
Rich as the orange of his throat. 
High o’er the loud and dusty road 
The soft gray cup in safety swings, 
To brim ere August with its load 
Of downy breasts and throbbing wings, 
O’er which the friendly elm-tree heaves 
An emerald roof with sculptured eaves. 
Below, the noisy world drags by 
In the old way, because it must; 
The bride with heartbreak in her eye, 
The mourner following hated dust ; 
Thy duty, winged flame of spring, 
Is but to love, and fly, and sing. 
O happy life, to soar and sway 
Above the life by mortals led, 
Singing the merry months away, 
Master, not slave of daily bread, 
And, when the autumn comes, to flee 
Wherever sunshine beckons thee! 
— James Russell Lowell 
