Then you have the whole process of trout-fishing, in the “mossy-tinctured stream,” where “the dark brown water aids the grilse,” showing that, as Thomson wrote, his thoughts reverted from Richmond to the streams of the Merse; you have also the song-birds piping each from its proper haunt, the linnet from “the flowering furze,”—the various places where each bird builds his nest, given with an accuracy that every bird-nesting boy will recognize; and the scent of the bean-fields, noticed for the first time, as far as I know, in poetry. As one longer example of Thomson’s close observation and peculiar manner, take the description of a spring shower:— “At last The clouds consign their treasures to the fields, And, softly shaking on the dimpled pool Prelusive drops, let all their moisture flow In large effusion o’er the freshened world; The stealing shower is scarce to patter heard By such as wander through the forest walks, Beneath the umbrageous multitude of leaves. ... “Thus all day long the full-distended clouds Indulge their genial stores, and well-showered earth Is deep enriched with vegetable life; Till in the western sky the downward sun Looks out, effulgent, from amid the flush Of broken clouds, gay shifting to his beam, The rapid radiance instantaneous strikes The illumined mountain; through the forest streams; Shakes on the floods, and in a yellow mist, Far smoking o’er the interminable plain, In twinkling myriads lights the dewy gems. Moist, bright, and green, the landscape laughs around. Full swell the woods, their every music wakes, Mixed in wild concert, with the warbling brooks Increased, the distant bleatings of the hills, And hollow lows responsive from the vales, Whence, blending all, the sweetened zephyr springs.” These are but a few samples from “Spring” showing the minute faithfulness with which Thomson had observed “The negligence of Nature, wide and wild.”