302 EARLY SPRING IN MASSACHUSETTS. 
ringly as water that seeks its level, and shall I 
complain if the gods make it meander? This 
staying to buy me a farm is as if the Missis¬ 
sippi should stop to chaffer with a clam-shell. 
If from your price ye will not swerve, 
Why then I ’ll think the gods reserve 
A greater bargain there above, 
Out of their superabundant love 
Have meantime better for me cared, 
And so will get my stock prepared, 
And sow my seed broadcast in air, 
Certain to reap my harvest there. 
April 7, 1853. 10 A. M. Down the river 
in boat to Bedford.How handsome the 
river from those hills, southwest over the Great 
Meadows, a sheet of sparkling, molten silver, 
with broad-lagoons parted from it by curving 
lines of low bushes, to the right or northward 
now at 2 or 3 P. M., a dark blue, with small, 
smooth, light edgings, firm plating, under the 
lee of the shore.As we stand on Naw- 
shawtuck at 5 P. M,, looking over the meadows, 
I doubt if there is a town more adorned by its 
river than ours. Now, while the sun is low in 
the west, the northeasterly water is of a pecul¬ 
iarly ethereal, light blue, more beautiful than 
the sky, and this broad water, with innumerable 
bays and inlets running up into the land on 
either side, and often divided by bridges and 
causeways, as if it were the very essence and 
