And hark！ here comes the cattle-train bearing the cattle of a thousand hills， sheepcots， stables， and cow-yards in the air，drovers with their sticks， and shepherd boys in the midst of their flocks， all but the mountain pastures， whirled along like leaves blown from the mountains by the September gales.  The air is filled with the bleating of calves and sheep， and the hustling of oxen， as if a pastoral valley were going by.  When the old bell-wether at the head rattles his bell， the mountains do indeed skip like rams and the little hills like lambs.  A carload of drovers， too， in the midst， on a level with their droves now， their vocation gone， but still clinging to their useless sticks as their badge of office. But their dogs， where are they？  It is a stampede to them； they are quite thrown out； they have lost the scent.  Methinks I hear them barking behind the Peterboro' Hills， or panting up the western slope of the Green Mountains.  They will not be in at the death.  Their vocation， too， is gone.  Their fidelity and sagacity are below par now.  They will slink back to their kennels in disgrace， or perchance run wild and strike a league with the wolf and the fox. So is your pastoral life whirled past and away.  But the bell rings，and I must get off the track and let the cars go by；――

　　What's the railroad to me？

　　I never go to see Where it ends. It fills a few hollows，And makes banks for the swallows，It sets the sand a-blowing，And the blackberries a-growing，

　　but I cross it like a cart-path in the woods.  I will not have my eyes put out and my ears spoiled by its smoke and steam and hissing.

　　Now that the cars are gone by and all the restless world with them， and the fishes in the pond no longer feel their rumbling， I am more alone than ever.  For the rest of the long afternoon， perhaps，my meditations are interrupted only by the faint rattle of a carriage or team along the distant highway.

　　Sometimes， on Sundays， I heard the bells， the Lincoln， Acton，Bedford， or Concord bell， when the wind was favorable， a faint，sweet， and， as it were， natural melody， worth importing into the wilderness.  At a sufficient distance over the woods this sound acquires a certain vibratory hum， as if the pine needles in the horizon were the strings of a harp which it swept.  All sound heard at the greatest possible distance produces one and the same effect，a vibration of the universal lyre， just as the intervening atmosphere makes a distant ridge of earth interesting to our eyes by the azure tint it imparts to it.  There came to me in this case a melody which the air had strained， and which had conversed with every leaf and needle of the wood， that portion of the sound which the elements had taken up and modulated and echoed from vale to vale.  The echo is， to some extent， an original sound， and therein is the magic and charm of it.  It is not merely a repetition of what was worth repeating in the bell， but partly the voice of the wood；the same trivial words and notes sung by a wood-nymph.

　　At evening， the distant lowing of some cow in the horizon beyond the woods sounded sweet and melodious， and at first I would mistake it for the voices of certain minstrels by whom I was sometimes serenaded， who might be straying over hill and dale； but soon I was not unpleasantly disappointed when it was prolonged into the cheap and natural music of the cow.  I do not mean to be satirical， but to express my appreciation of those youths' singing， when I state that I perceived clearly that it was akin to the music of the cow， and they were at length one articulation of Nature.

　　聽啊！這里來了牛車，帶來了千山萬壑的牛羊，空中的羊棚、馬棚和牛棚啊，還有那些帶了牧杖的牧者，羊群之中的牧童，什么都來了，只除了山中的草原，它們被從山上吹下來，像九月的風吹下蕭蕭落葉。空中充滿了牛羊的咩叫之聲，公牛們擠來擠去，仿佛經過的是一個放牧的山谷。當帶頭羊鈴子震響的時候，大山真的跳躍如公羊，而小山跳躍如小羊。在中央有一列車的牧者，現在他們和被牧者一樣，受到同等待遇，他們的職業已經沒有了，卻還死抱住牧杖，那像是他們的證章。可是他們的狗，到哪里去了呢？這對它們來說是潰散；它們完全被擯棄了；它們失去了嗅跡。我仿佛聽到它們在彼得博羅山中吠叫，或者在青山的西邊山坡上啉啉地走著。它們不出來參加死刑的觀禮。

　　它們也失了業。它們的忠心和智慧現在都不行了。它們丟臉地偷偷溜進他們的狗棚，也許變得狂野起來，和狼或狐貍賽了個三英里的跑。你的牧人生活就這樣旋風似的過去了，消失了。可是鐘響了，我必須離開軌道，讓車子過去；一――-鐵路于我何有哉？

　　我絕不會去觀看它到達哪里為止。

　　它把些崖洞填滿，給燕子造了堤岸，使黃砂遍地飛揚，叫黑莓到處生長。可是我跨過鐵路，好比我走過林中小徑。我不愿意我的眼睛鼻子給它的煙和水氣和咝咝聲污染了。

　　現在車輛已經馳去，一切不安的世界也跟它遠揚了，湖中的魚不再覺得震動，我格外地孤寂起來了。悠長的下午的其余時間內，我的沉思就難得打斷了，頂多遠遠公路上有一輛馬車的微弱之音，或驢馬之聲。

　　有時，在星期日，我聽到鐘聲：林肯，阿克頓，貝德福或康科德的鐘聲，在風向適合的時候，很柔微甜美，仿佛是自然的旋律，真值得飄蕩入曠野。在適當距離以外的森林上空，它得到了某種震蕩的輕微聲浪，好像地平線上的松針是大豎琴上的弦給撥弄了一樣。一切聲響，在最大可能的距程之外聽到時，會產生同樣的效果，成為字宙七弦琴弦的微顫，這就好像極目遠望時，最遠的山脊，由于橫亙在中的大氣的緣故，會染上同樣的微藍色彩。這一次傳到我這里來的鐘聲帶來了一條給空氣拉長了的旋律，在它和每一張葉子和每一枝松針寒暄過之后，它們接過了這旋律，給它轉了一個調，又從一個山谷，傳給了另一個山谷。回聲，在某種限度內還是原來的聲音，它的魔力與可愛就在此。

　　它不僅把值得重復一遍的鐘聲重復，還重復了林木中的一部分聲音；正是一個林中女妖所唱出的一些呢語和樂音。

　　黃昏中，遠方的地平線上，有一些牛叫傳入森林，很甜美，旋律也優雅，起先我以為是某些游唱詩人的歌喉，有些個晚上，我聽到過他們唱小夜曲，他們也許正漂泊行經山谷；可是聽下去，我就欣然地失望了，一拉長，原來是牛的聲音，不花錢的音樂。我說，在我聽來，青年人的歌聲近似牛叫，我并不是諷刺，我對于他們的歌喉是很欣賞的，這兩種聲音，說到最后，都是天籟。

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