Paradise bird

“ And now, if you were to ask a Bird of Paradise where it was he used to live, and why he had lost his voice and got his feathers scorched, he would not know one bit what you were talking about. In hundreds of thousands of years a great many things are forgotten, and the Birds of Paradise of to-day are quite happy. The earth is quite good enough for them, and if they were not shot and put into hats for the women with the frozen hearts to wear, they would have nothing to complain of. ”

“ Only, when he actually hears it for the first time, the hearer makes the sad discovery that the bird he has for long years been listening to in fancy—the nightingale heard by the poet with an aching heart, and the wish that he, too, could fade with it into the forest dim—was a nightingale of the brain, a mythical bird, like the footless bird of paradise and the swan with a dying melody. ”

“ Had they been as accessible as sparrows, even although they equaled them in numbers, not one would by this time be alive on earth.
The family whose extraordinary dress and mystery of origin justify its name—Birds of Paradise—is securely hidden in distant islands not friendly to bird-hunting races. Inaccessible mountains and pathless forests repel the traveler; impassable ravines bar his advance; sickness and death lie in wait for the white man, while the native lurks with poisoned dart behind every bush. ”

“ The lovers of the marvellous in the West built upon this weak foundation a most poetic superstructure, and believed that the bird was indeed the denizen of paradise, fed upon the dew of heaven, incapable of contact with earth, building no nest, but hatching its eggs in a cavity upon its own back; ever soaring in the sunlight far above earth, and independent of all mundane association. ”

“ That is the difference between life and death. A live Bird of Paradise is hundreds [Pg 53] of times more beautiful than a live blackbird or thrush or swallow or robin-redbreast, but when it is dead it is not so beautiful as they are. Its feathers are more beautiful, still, of course, but where are the waving feathers, the floating plumes, the bright eyes, the quick, graceful movements, and the flight—the glorious flight—of a bird. They are gone, they are gone for ever, and, in their place, there is only stiffness and deadness and dustiness. ”

“ You know those lovely plumes that I told you about, that the Great Bird of Paradise has growing from both his sides, under the wings, and how he lifts up his wings and shoots them right up into the air, so that they fall all over him, like two most beautiful fountains that meet in the air and mingle their waters together. ”

“ It is at the rising and setting of the sun that the Bird of Paradise goes to seek its food. In the middle of the day it remains hidden under the ample foliage of the teak-tree, and comes not forth. He seems to dread the scorching heat of the sun, and to be unwilling to expose himself to the attacks of a rival. ”

“ We chase the bird of Paradise, whose nest Was never found amid the bowers of earth.* * According to a belief in the East, which is associated with one of the loveliest and most familiar of Oriental superstitions, the bird of Paradise is never seen to rest upon the earth, and its nest is never to be found. ”

“ The Great Bird of Paradise is the largest of the species, measuring about one and one-half feet in length; the others are comparatively small. The adult males are in beauty unsurpassed even by humming-birds. Tufts of bright feathers spring from beneath the wings, from the tail, or from the head, back, or shoulders. Trains, fans, and exquisitely delicate tress-like decorations occur abundantly, and the gracefulness of the plumage is enhanced by the brilliant color and metallic luster. ”

“ Paradise-birds are lively and active, shy though curious, taking refuge in the thick foliage when disturbed; small flocks are not unfrequently observed, usually of one species, while for considerable periods the males appear to live apart. ”

“ nigh in her sight The bird of Jove, stooped from his aery tour, Two birds of gayest plume before him drove; ”

“ How should people brought up in cities know anything of the sacred lives of birds? What woman, whose head is bristling with their feathers, knows, for instance, the hymn of the song-sparrows, the sweet jargon of the blackbirds, the fairy fluting of the oriole, the lonely, lovely wooing-call of the sandpiper, the cheerful challenge of the chickadee, the wild, clear whistle of the curfew, the twittering of the swallows as they go circling in long curves through summer air, filling earth and heaven with tones of pure gladness, each bird a marvel of grace, beauty, and joy? ”

“ The birds that fled last fall our wintry skies
People again the woods on joyous wing;
At dawn soft rustling pinions waken me,
And swallows darken window-pane and door;
Breathless I listen, gazing wistfully,
Alas, the bird I wait for comes no more.
A high ambition swept my pulses through;
Gazing one day upon the eagle’s flight,
I pierced with him the heaven’s o’erarching blue,
And beat my pinions at the gates of light.
To-day the bird of Jove alone defies
The sun-god’s burning glance, the tempest’s roar;
I watch his flight unmoved, with listless eyes,
The bird I fondly wait for comes no more. ”

“ Nature has painted upon our eastern hills a symphony in gray greens, a canvas of artemisia, simple, ample, insistent. And still the people stand before it hesitating—it is so common—is it considered beautiful, pray? Well, at least a bird thinks so, a bird whose whole life has been spent in the sage. ”

“ The sky, which a moment since was bright as burnished gold, has already changed to a dusky grey, with here and there streaks of purple hue. A solitary bird, truant to its mate, or perhaps a mourner for its loss during the day's excursion, is seen like a wayfarer, with tired flight, wearily labouring to reach the wood ere nightfall. ”

“ Fierce hawk, croaking raven, ravenous vulture, obscene birds, birds of discord, birds of darkness, birds of tempest, birds of blood and death—these are all typical of the heart’s base passions; these all brood and nestle within, and fly forth to darken, pollute, and destroy. And the Master is not here speaking of some hearts, but of the human heart generally. In the woods we find occasionally a bird with a false note, in the fields a misshapen flower, yet beauty and music are the prevailing characteristics of the landscape ”

“ Where the merry leaves dance in the summer air!"
And the birds below give back the cry,
"We come, we come to the branches high!"
How pleasant the life of the birds must be,
Living above in a leafy tree!
And away through the air what joy to go,
[66] And to look on the green, bright earth below!
How pleasant the life of a bird must be,
Skimming about on the breezy sea,
Cresting the billows like silvery foam,
Then wheeling away to its cliff-built home! ”

“ A sweet picture of innocent happiness does this bird present; he pours out his heart in thrilling song far above the world in the full beams of the bright sun, and then sinks to repose in his humble nest, where the embrace of love welcomes him, and his infant progeny call forth all his fondness and all his joy! ”

“ Rising from the nest or from its grassy bed, this plain-looking little bird, clad in the simplest colors, and making but a speck in the boundless expanse, mounts straight up on tremulous wings, until lost to view in the blue ether, and then sends back to earth a song of gladness that seems to come from the sky itself, to cheer the weary, give hope to the disheartened, and turn the most indifferent, for the moment at least, from sordid thoughts. No other bird music heard in our land compares with the wonderful strains of this songster ”

“ I now saw that the birds must be seen alive in their native forests, in order to fully comprehend the poetic beauty of the words Birds of Paradise. They seem the inhabitants of a fairer world than ours, things that have wandered in some way from their home, and found the earth to show us something of the beauty of worlds beyond. ”

“ Like weary sea-birds spent with flight
And faltering,
The slow hours beat across the night
On leaden wing.
The wild bird knows where rest shall be
Soe'er he roam,
Heart of my heart! apart from thee
I have no home. ”

“ A light, restless wind has piled snowy, errant clouds above the mountain tops, the little green leaves are uncurling, the sun shining as it shines only in the spring and on an awakened world—and the birds——A lover bird, just the kind to capture a little lady bird’s heart, has been pouring out a passionate mating song for two whole days. ”

“ He worked out of my sight and hers, in the inner part of his garret, but the swallows saw and told me. There are never any secrets between birds and flowers.
We used to live in Paradise together, and we love one another as exiles do; and we hold in our cups the raindrops to slake the thirst of the birds, and the birds in return bring to us from many lands and over many waters tidings of those lost ones who have been torn from us to strike the roots of our race in far-off soils and under distant suns. ”

“ By its general grace and beauty, by its sportings and piracies, its speed of flight and the rushing sweeps of its attack, this bird must ever live in the memories of those who have known it: but, most of all, it will live there by the inspiring music of its cry. ”

“ And thus this dream and joy of glorious motion, this elemental spirit of a bird, floats and flickers along, cradled in air, looking like a shadow upon it, sweeping and gliding, rising and falling, in circles of consummate ease. No, this is not dominion, but union and sweet accord. There is no in-spite-of, no proud compelling, here. Lighter than the air that it rides on, the bird seems married to it, clasps it as a bride. ”

“ For in captivity they do not "sweeten" my life, as the Maidenhead guidebook writer would say, with their shrill, piercing cries for liberty, but they "sing me mad." Just as in some minds this bird's music--a sound which above all others typifies the exuberant life and joy of nature to the soul--cannot be separated from the cooked and dished-up melodist, so that they turn with horror from such meat, so I cannot separate this bird, nor any bird, from the bird's wild life of liberty, and the marvellous faculty of flight which is the bird's attribute. ”

“ Why, then, does the youth's heart tremble—what secret sorrow preys upon him?
God's little bird knows neither care nor labour, [Pg 271] Why should it strive to build a lasting nest? The night is long, but a branch suffices for its sleeping place. When the sun comes in his glory, birdie hears the voice of God, flutters his plumage, and sings his song. After spring, Nature's fairest time, comes hot summer. Late autumn follows, bringing mist and cold. Poor men and women are sad and dismal. To distant lands, to warmer climes beyond the blue sea, flies birdie to the spring. ”

“ At this moment all the beauty of the plumage is exhibited, and strikes the beholder with pleasure. It never utters any sound whilst on wing, unless during the love season; but at all other times, no sooner has this bird alighted than its remarkable voice is heard, at almost every leap which it makes, whilst ascending against the upper parts of the trunk of a tree, or its highest branches. ”

“ The living bird, viewed closely and fearless of our presence, is so much more to the mind than all that is written--so infinitely more engaging in its spontaneous gladness, its brilliant vivacity, and its motions so swift and true and yet so graceful! Even leaving out the melody, what a charm it would add to our homes if birds were permitted to take the part there for which Nature designed them--if they were the "winged wardens" of our gardens and houses as well as of our fields. ”

“ She delights in sitting on the fender, fluffing up her feathers to revel in the warmth, which, in winter, is her substitute for sunshine, and before long she returns to her own little home, where she may be seen gracefully sipping the sweet juice of a grape before recommencing her song.
I often wonder how long this, my latest pet, may be spared to me! A bird’s life is such a tender thing—a moment’s carelessness may rob one of a cherished pet, and the greatest care will not always guard such a tiny swift-flying bird from injury. ”

“ Other birds, again, instead of dancing, spring impetuously up and down, and hop hither and thither among the branches, at the same time displaying whatever beauty they possess: thus, the male birds-of-paradise assemble in crowds on certain trees during the early morning hours, and with the aforesaid movements and tremulous quivering of their wings, display their wonderful plumage in honour of the other sex. ”

“ That is because you cannot imagine how beautiful real Birds of Paradise are, for these Birds of Paradise were not more beautiful than the other ones that lived there. All were as beautiful as each other though in different ways, and it was just that which made these Birds of Paradise discontented. “If we go down to earth,” said they, “the birds of all the world will do homage to us on account of our superior beauty, for there will be none to equal us. ”

“ Nor blight her blossoms, and go towering up
In their cold stateliness, while on the earth
She sank to die.
⁠But thou, rejoicing bird,
Why pourest thou such a rich and mellow lay
On my dull ear; Poor bird! ”

“ One bright spring day I was with him, pacing his garden walk, discussing a variety of important matters relating to man's spiritual nature, and so forth, when by and by we drifted into other themes—wild nature, and then wild bird life. "There is," he said, "one curious thing about birds in which they differ from other creatures and which makes them a little more puzzling to a man with just the ordinary knowledge of nature. They have wings to carry them about and they roam from place to place so that at any moment a man may be confronted with a bird of a perfectly unfamiliar appearance. ”