Excerpt from Mutton Birds and Other Birds<br><br>But what do we see and what do we hear, and what through our eyes and ears do we not owe to the masters of verse? It has become impossible in prose to witness a great sea rolling into a shallow bay, to think of woods lashed with rain, of wind among the dunes, of grey and dewy turf whose greener markings show where wild things have trod at dawn, of sudden airs that dim the shadows of a water expanse and shiver in silver along its blue, of noon in summer when green tendrils flag. The breezes stream and the seas flow; but they bear a new meaning and a new melody, something the savage has never known. Perhaps only in this are we moderns' the happier breed of men; that the poets are as Eolian harps through which our primitive senses pass. To each phase of nature, sweet or severe, are added apt images, tender thoughts and sequences of immortal words. Away from our fellow men and alone, what can we see or hear or feel that is lovely and pure and of good report, without a flow of thoughts that are not our own?<br><br>About the Publisher<br><br>Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com<br><br>This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.