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Or glen remote, or woodland lawn,
Where the doe hides her tender fawn;
Among the birds he dwells.

Within some old fantastic tree,
Where time has worn a cavity,
His winter food is stor'd:

The cone, beset with many a scale,
The chesnut in its coat of mail,
Or nuts, complete his hoard.
And of wise prescience thus possest,
He near it rears his airy nest

With twigs, and moss entwin'd;
And gives its roof a conic form,
Where safely shelter'd from the storm,
He braves the rain and wind.

Soft is his shining auburn coat,
As ermine white, his downy throat,
Intelligent his mien ;

With feathery tail, and ears alert,
And little paws, like hands, expert,
And eyes so black and keen.
Soaring above the earth-born herd
Of beasts, he emulates the bird,
And feels no want of wings;
Exactly pois'd, he dares to launch
In air, and bounds from branch to branch,
With swift elastic springs.

And thus, the man of mental worth
May rise above the humblest birth,
And adverse fate control;

If to the upright heart be join'd
The active persevering mind,
And firm unshaken soul.

THE EARLY BUTTERFLY.

TRUSTING the first warm day of spring,
When transient sunshine warms the sky,
Light, on his yellow-spotted wing,
Comes forth the early butterfly.

With wavering flight, he settles, now,

Where pilewort spreads its blossoms fair;
Now, on the grass, where daisies blow,
Pausing, he rests his pinions there.
But, insect, in a luckless hour,

Thou from thy winter home hast come;
For yet is seen no luscious flower,
With odour rich, and honied bloom.
And, these, that to the early day,
Yet timidly their bells unfold,
Close with the sun's retreating ray,
And shut their humid eyes of gold.
For night's dark shades then gather round,
And night-winds whistle cold and keen,
And hoary frosts will crisp the ground,
And blight the leaves of budding green.
And thou, poor fly, so soft and frail,
May'st perish e'er returning morn,
Nor ever on the summer gale,

To taste of summer sweets be borne.

Smith.

THE NAUTILUS.

WHERE Southern suns and winds prevail,
And undulate the summer seas;
The Nautilus expands his sail,

And scuds before the freshening breeze.

Oft is a little squadron seen,

Of mimic ships all rigg'd complete ;
Fancy might paint the fairy queen,
There sailing with her elfin fleet.
With how much beauty is design'd
Each channelled bark of purest white;
With orient pearl, each cabin lin❜d,
Varying with every change of light.
While with his little slender oars,
His silken sail, and tapering mast,
The dauntless mariner explores

The dangers of the watery waste.
Prepar'd, should tempests rend the sky,
From harm, his fragile bark to keep,
He furls his sail, his oar lays by,
And seeks for safety in the deep.

There, safe on ocean's shelly bed,

He hears the storm above him roar; 'Mid groves of coral, glowing red,

Or rocks o'erhung with madrepore. So let us catch life's favouring gale,

But if fate's adverse blasts be rude, Take calmly in the adventurous sail, And seek repose in solitude.

Smith.

AN EVENING WALK BY THE SEA-SIDE.

'Tis pleasant to wander along on the sand,

Smith.

Beneath the high cliff that is hollow'd in caves; When the fisher has put off his boat from the land, And the prawn-catcher wades through the short rippling waves.

While fast run before us the sandling and plover,

Intent on the crabs and the sand-eels to feed ; And here on a rock, which the tide will soon cover,

We'll find us a seat that is tapestried with weed. Bright gleam the white sails in the slant rays of ev'n, And stud as with silver, the broad level main; While glowing clouds float on the fair face of heav'n, And the mirror-like water reflects them again. How various the shades of marine vegetation, Thrown here, the rough flints and pebbles among, The feather'd conferva, of deepest carnation, The dark purple slake, and the olive sea-thong. While Flora herself, unreluctantly mingles

Her garlands with those that the Nereids have

worn,

For the yellow horn'd poppy springs up on the shingles,

And convolvulas rival the rays of the morn.

But now to retire from the rock we have warning, Already the water encircles our seat;

And slowly the tide of the evening returning,

The moon-beam reflects in the waves at our feet.

Ah, whether as now, the mild summer sea flowing, Scarce wrinkles the sands as it murmers on shore; Or fierce wintry whirlwinds impetuously blowing, Bid high madd'ning surges resistlessly roar.

That Power which can put the wide waters in motion, Then bid the vast billows repose at his word; Fills the mind with deep reverence, while, earth, air, and ocean,

Alike, of the universe speak Him the Lord.

THE HUMMING BIRD.

Smith.

MINUTEST of the feather'd kind,
Possessing every charm combin'd,
Nature, in forming thee design'd

That thou should'st be

A proof, within how little space,
She can comprise each perfect grace,
Rendering thy lovely shining race
Beauty's epitome.

Those burnish'd colours to bestow,
Her pencil, in the heavenly bow

She dipp'd; and made thy plumes to glow
With every hue,

That in the dancing sunbeam plays,
And with the ruby's vivid blaze,

Mingled the emerald's lucid rays

With sapphire blue.

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