of a wolf
than any bird; as when a beast puts his muzzle to the ground and
deliberately howls. This was his looming--perhaps the wildest sound that
is ever heard here, making the woods ring far and wide. I concluded that
he laughed in derision of my efforts, confident of his own resources.
Though the sky was by this time overcast, the pond was so smooth that I
could see where he broke the surface when I did not hear him. His white
breast, the stillness of the air, and the smoothness of the water were
all against him. At length, having come up fifty rods off, he uttered
one of those prolonged howls, as if calling on the god of loons to aid
him, and immediately there came a wind from the east and rippled the
surface, and filled the whole air with misty rain, and I was impressed
as if it were the prayer of the loon answered, and his god was angry
with me; and so I left him disappearing far away on the tumultuous
surface.

ODE TO A SKYLARK

_By_ PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

NOTE.--There are a few places in the United States where the
skylark has been naturalized, but most of us have never heard it
sing. In Europe, however, and especially in Great Britain, it is
very common; and despite the fact that it is dull of plumage, there
are few birds which are more universally loved. For the song which
it pours forth as it soars upward in spiral curves and floats in
the air is wonderfully sweet and cheerful. Strangely enough, this
bird, which seems to like best to sing when far, far above the
earth, does not refuse to sing when confined in a cage.

Hail to thee, blithe spirit!--
Bird thou never wert--
That from heaven, or near it,
Pourest thy full heart
In profuse strains of unpremeditated art.

Higher still and higher
From the earth thou springest
Like a cloud of fire;
The blue deep thou wingest,
And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest.

In the golden lightning
Of the sunken sun,
O'er which clouds are brightening,
Thou dost float and run;
Like an unbodied joy whose race is just begun.

[Illustration: THE SKYLARK]

The pale purple even
Melts around thy flight;
Like a star of heaven
In the broad day-light,
Thou art unseen, but yet I hear thy shrill delight.