WOOD THRUSH. 
109 
particular cannot be observed but on a close examina- 
tion. 
Those who have paid minute attention to the singing 
of birds, know well, that the voice, energy, and expres- 
sion, in the same tribe, differ as widely as the voices of 
different individuals of the human species, or as ono 
singer does from another. The powers of song, in some 
individuals of . the wood thrush, have often surprised 
and delighted me. Of these I remember one, many 
years ago, whose notes I could instantly recognise on 
entering the woods, and with whom I had been, as it 
were, acquainted from his first arrival. The top of a 
large white oak that overhung part of the glen, was 
usually the favourite pinnacle from whence he poured 
the sweetest melody ; to which I had frequently listened 
till night began to gather in the woods, and the fire- 
flies to sparkle among the branches. But, alas ! in the 
pathetic language of the poet — 
One morn I miss’d him on the accustom’d hill, 
Along the vale, and on his favourite tree — 
Another came, nor yet beside the rill, 
Nor up the glen, nor in the wood was he. 
A few days afterwards, passing along the edge of the 
rocks, I found fragments of the wings and broken 
feathers of a wood thrush killed by the hawk, which I 
contemplated with unfeigned regret, and not without a 
determination to retaliate on the first of these murderers 
I could meet with. 
That I may not seem singular in my estimation of 
this bird, I shall subjoin an extract of a letter from a 
distinguished American gentleman to whom I had sent 
some drawings, and whose name, were I at liberty to 
give it, would do honour to my humble performance, 
and render any farther observations on the subject 
from me unnecessary. 
“ As you are curious in birds, there is one well 
worthy your attention, to be found, or rather heard, in 
every part of America, and yet scarcely ever to be 
seen. It is in all the forests from spring to fall, and 
never but on the tops of the tallest trees, from which it 
