EARLY SPRING IN MASSACHUSETTS. 139 
curves have reference to their centres or foci, 
so all beauty of character has reference to the 
soul, and is a graceful gesture of recognition or 
waving of the body toward it. 
The great and solitary heart will love alone, 
without the knowledge of its object. It cannot 
have society in its love. It will expend its 
love as the cloud drops rain upon the fields over 
which it floats. 
The only way to speak the truth is to speak 
lovingly. Only the lover’s words are heard. 
The intellect should never speak. It does not 
utter a natural sound. 
How trivial the best actions are. I am led 
about from sunrise to sunset by an ignoble rou¬ 
tine, and yet can find no better road. I must 
make a part of the planet. I must obey the 
law of nature. 
March 15, 1852. This afternoon I throw off 
my outside coat. A mild spring day. I must 
hie to the Great Meadows. The air is full of 
bluebirds; the ground almost entirely bare. 
The villagers are out in the sun, and every man 
is happy whose work takes him out doors. I 
go by Sleepy Hollow toward the Great Fields. 
I lean over a rail to hear what is in the air 
liquid with the bluebirds’ warble. My life par¬ 
takes of infinity. The air is as deep as our na¬ 
ture. Is the drawing in of this vital air at- 
