86 THE CONDOR Vol. XIII ?hology, .to close the present essay without some reference, at least, to the highest of all forms of literature would be to 'leave it in a sense incomplete. Although it has often been stated to the contrary I hope to show that the possession of the poetic temperament does not necessarily incapacitate one for scientific work. Many instances in proof of this could be given, but a few will perhaps suffice as well. One of these is the case of Alexander Wilson, whose standing as an ornithologist is un- questioned. A poem by Wilson is reprinted in 7'k Osprey, vol. iiI, p. 98. Here in our own club we have Mr. Lyman Belding who has done much conscien- tious bird work. He is a poet as well, and verse entitled "The Sierras in June" appeared in vol. II of THE CONDOR. Still another case is that of Hudson Maxim, the great English inventor, who is also a poet of no mean order. The Lilcrary 19i?st,.vol. 41, no. 14, in reviewing Maxim's "The Science of Poetry and the Philosophy of Language," states in part as follows: "The mere fact of his writing such a work, is in itself interesting; for, apart from its distinctive merits, it gives' new evidence of the versatility which so frequently characterizes high intellectual talents. That an eminent scientific inventor should appear as an expert critic of. poetics will, undoubtedly, surprise many minds; but many others will remember how philosophers have come to recognize it as axiomatic that men 'of large capacity are capable of varying their achievements according to volition 'in many directions
* * It is somewhat startling to find a foremost scientist affirming that poetry
has a stronger hold on us than science itself * * * Btit the chief charm of the literary feat, for most readers, may be found in the plunges made by the author himself into poetical composition." Birds, ever especial favorites of the poets, have inspired such immortal master- pieces as Shelley's "To a Skylark", and Keats' "Ode to a Nightingale", and no one I think can hear the song of the Water O(?zel amid the roar and spray of some mountain torrent, or the cold, pure music of the lone Hermit Thrush in some dark wooded canyon, music like that of the masters, apparently simple but profoundly deep, and not become appreciative to some extent of the sentiment that moves the poet. At times I have felt this spell myself, but poetical composition does not come easily to me and I have written but little, while that published is limited to a few lines in 7'ke Auk of October, 1906, and those given at the end of this article. For these latter lines I make little claim for merit, and no doubt those who have taken up this branch of literature will be of the opinion they should have been written in the octosyllabic couplet rather than in blank verse. In this instance, however, the latter serves my purpose best as I desire to sho? that it is the metre and rhythm, and not necessarily the rhyme that gives the word pictures .their senti-. mental setting. Poetry at its best excells in the indelible imprint it leaves on the minds of those susceptible to its influences, and there are certain famous passages that haunt one's memory forever. Great condensation too is another of its virtues and to take a very modest example, this closing poem, for instance, would no doubt tax twice the number of words in prose. I may say in explanation I spent two weeks on the Farallon Islands in May and June of 1904, and anyone interested will find the birds and particularly the remarkable nests of the Rock Wren described at length in the October Ju? of the same year. BIRDS OF THE FARALLONES And while it yet was spring the sea-bird hordes Would come, to make the isles their summer home; The laughing murres that crowded shelving cliff
