His mother's cabin-home, that lay
Where feathery cocoas fringed the bay;
The dashing of his brethren's oar,
The conch-note heard along the shore ;-
All through his wakening bosom swept ;
He clasped his country's tree, and wept ;
Oh! scorn him not!-the strength, whereby
The patriot girds himself to die,
The unconquerable power which fills
The freeman battling on his hills,

These have one fountain, deep and clear

The same whence gushed that child-like tear.

MRS. HEMANS.

This poem sadly brings to our recollection the beautiful lines in Cowper's Task, where that writer alludes to Omai, whom Captain Cook brought over to England from the Friendly Islands :-Omai wept bitter tears, when he returned to his original condition of life.

The dream is past; and thou hast found again
Thy cocoas and bananas, palms and yams,

And homestall thatched with leaves, &c. &c.

Task, B. 1.

THE MOUNTAIN RILL.

COME, track with me, this little vagrant rill,
Wandering its wild course from the mountain's breast,
Now, with a brink fantastic, heather-drest,

And playing with the stooping flowers at will;

Now, moving scarce, with noiseless step and still.

Anon it seems to weary of its rest,

And hurries on, leaping with sparkling zest,

Adown the ledges of the broken hill;
-So, let us live. Is not the life well-spent,
Which loves the lot that kindly Nature weaves
For all, inheriting and adorning earth,

Which throws light pleasure over true content,
Blossoms with fruitage-flowers, as well as leaves—
And sweetens wisdom with a taste of mirth?

T. DOUBLEDAY.

THE NIGHTINGALE.

Now I steal along a woody lane,
To hear thy song so various, gentle bird,
Sweet queen of night, transporting Philomel,
I name thee not to give my feeble line
A grace else wanted, for I love thy song
And often have I stood to hear it sung,
When the clear moon,* with Cytherean smile
Emerging from an eastern cloud, has shot
A look of pure benevolence and joy
Into the heart of night. Yes, I have stood
And marked thy varied note, and frequent pause,
Thy brisk and melancholy mood, with soul
Sincerely pleas'd. And O, methought, no note
Can equal thine, sweet bird, of all that sing
How easily the chief!
What pleases me still more—

Yet have I heard

-the human voice

In serious sweetness flowing from the heart

Of unaffected woman. I could hark

Till the round world dissolv'd to the pure strain
Love teaches, gentle modesty inspires.

HURDIS.

The good Isaac Walton, a writer of genuine feeling and classical simplicity, observes of this noted song-bird: 'He that, at midnight, when the very labourers sleep securely, should hear, as I have heard, the clear air, the sweet descants, the natural rising and falling, the doubling and redoubling, of her voice, might well be lifted above the earth, and say, Lord! what music hast thou provided for thy saints in heaven, when thou affordest bad men such music on earth. *Conscia nocturnos luna moratur equos."

TO THE CUCKOO.

O, BLITHE new-comer! I have heard,

I hear thee and rejoice;

O, Cuckoo ! shall I call thee bird,

Or but a wandering voice?

While I am lying on the grass,
Thy twofold shout I hear,

That seems to fill the whole air's space,
As loud far off as near.

Though babbling only to the vale,

Of sunshine and of flowers,
Thou bringest unto me a tale
Of visionary hours.

Thrice welcome, darling of the spring!

Ev'n yet thou art to me

No bird: but an invisible thing,

A voice, a mystery.

The same, whom in my schoolboy days,
I listened to that cry

Which made me look a thousand ways,
In bush, and tree, and sky.

To seek thee did I often rove

Through woods and on the green;
And thou wert still a hope, a love;
Still long'd for, never seen.

And I can listen to thee yet,
Can lie upon the plain,
And listen till I do beget

That golden time again.

WORDSWORTH.

The Cuckoo, Cuculus Canorus, comes to us about the middle of April and almost invariably leaves us before the first of July. Every one hails with pleasure the arrival of this herald of spring. Its two notes have been observed to be always F. and D in the key of D. This and the cow-bunting, Emberiza Pecoris, of America, are the only known instances of birds laying their eggs in nests belonging to others. The cuckoo generally deposits its solitary egg in the nest of the hedge-sparrow, and what is very remarkable, the young cuckoo, as soon as hatched, turns out the eggs or birds, that may chance to remain there, and takes entire possession of the nest: it then becomes the sole object of the future care of its diminutive foster-parent.

THE ROSE.

THE rose is red, the rose is white,
The rose it blooms in summer light;
But ah! it clouds the heart's delight,
To muse upon its history ;—

It tells full many a woeful tale,

Of hearts made cold, of cheeks made pale,
Of love's sad sigh, the widow's wail,
In days of strife and chivalry ;
Sweet freedom may the age prevail,
That strife no more may be.

The rose is red, the rose is white,
The rose is pleasant to the sight,
Now both its hues in one unite,

To crown the brows of loyalty!

Strife took the white rose for its crest,
But concord placed it in her vest,
Where deep it blushed upon her breast,

To wed the tree of liberty;

And while it blooms as freedom's guest,

There let it ever be.

CLARE.

During the unhappy and fatal struggles between the houses of York and Lancaster, the adherents of the former chose as their mark of distinction, the White rose; while those of the latter, assumed the Red: these civil wars, which continued from the year 1450 to 1485, were known all over Europe by the name of the "Quarrel between the two roses." Upon the marriage of Henry VII., of the house of Lancaster, with Elizabeth, daughter of Edward IV., of the house of York, the two roses were united in one, and then became the royal badge of England. The following epigram, notwithstanding that it savours of affectation, may not here be inaptly quoted; the lines were sent with a white rose from a lover, of the house of York, to his mistress, of the house of Lancaster:

If this pale rose offend thy sight,

Go place it in thy bosom fair,
'T will blush to find itself less white,
And turn Lancastrian there.

BIRDS FORBIDDEN BY THE LEVITICAL LAW.

LEVIT. XI. 13-19.

Or feath'red foules that fanne the bucksom aire, Not all alike weare made for foode to men,

For, these thou shalt not eat doth God declare, Twice tenne their nombre, and their flesh unclene; Fyrst the great Eagle, byrde of feigned Jove, Which Thebanes worshippe and diviners love.

Next Ossifrage and Ospray (both one kinde,) Of luxurie and rapine, emblems mete,

That haunte the shores, the choicest preye to finde, And brast the bones, and scoope the marrow swete: The Vulture, void of delicace and feare,

Who spareth not the pale dede man to teare:

The tall-built Swann, faire type of pride confest; The Pelicane, whose sons are nurst with bloode.

Forbidd to man! she stabbeth deep her breast,
Self-murtheresse through fondnesse to her broode ;*
They too that range the thirstie wilds emong,
The Ostryches, unthoughtful of their yonge.

The Raven, ominous (as Gentiles holde,)
What time she croaketh hoarsely à la morte;
The Hawke, aerial hunter, swifte and bolde,
In feates of mischief trayned for disporte :
The vocal Cuckowe, of the faulcon race,
Obscene intruder in her neighbor's place:

The pelican, when she feeds her young, presses with her bill her full pouch against her breast, which is of a reddish hue, and thus disgorges its contents:this action has probably given rise to the popular fable here alluded to by our ancient poet.