My dearest Sir, how great a change Has pass'd upon the groves I range, Nay, all the face of nature! A few weeks back, each pendent bough, The fields, the groves, the mountain's brow, Were bare and leafless all, but now How verdant ev'ry feature! Each little songster strives to raise Its highest warbling notes of praise, For all these blessings given:— Ere Sol emerges from behind The eastern hills, the lark we find Soars, as it were on wings of wind, With grateful notes to heaven. A thousand others catch the strains, Each bush and tree a tongue contains, That offers up its praises. From morn till the meridian day, From noon till Sol has sunk away, One ceaseless song, one grateful lay, Each feather'd songster raises. And when Night's grim and sable band, Spreads her dim curtains o'er the land, And all our prospect closes; Then Philomela, queen of song, The sweetest of the feather'd throng, Takes up the theme the whole night long, While nature all reposes. Then surely I, the humblest bird, That e'er among the groves was heard, Should aid the thankful chorus; With chirping note I'll join the sound, For not a Sparrow, 'twill be found, Without his will falls to the ground, Who high above reigns o'er us. But what avail my feeble powers, When softer notes descend in showers, Mine are not worth regarding; No honour'd title gilds my name, No dulcet notes I e'er could claim; So worthless I, you may obtain Two Sparrows for a farthing. Besides, I ne'er was form'd to sing, And so must soar on humbler wing, Since nature saw it fitter; But yet my feeble powers I'll try, And sound my chatt'ring notes on high, For I am sure you'll not deny To hear my simple twitter. My gratitude is doubly due, For all the hedges2 in my view, Afford a verdant cover; I now can build my nest once more, From childhood's prying glance secure, And from the hawk's keen eye, tho' o'er The sacred bush he hover. Oh! had I Philomela's tongue, The thrush's note, or warbling song Of blackbird, lark, or linnet; I'd then more gratitude display, Striving to raise a sweeter lay, I'd sing the fleeting hours away, Nor silent be a minute. But I must quit the trembling spray, And to my duty fly away, To pick a straw or feather; My mate is somewhere on the wing, I think she's gone some moss to bring, For we must work while it is spring, And build our nest together. So now adieu—I've chirp'd too long, Must leave the finish of my song To some more learned bird's son; Whose mellow notes can charm the ear With no discordant chatter near; So now, dear Sir, I'm your sincere And humble Sparrow.

Herdson.

TO A DESTRUCTIVE INSECT ON A ROSEBUD

IN MANNER OF BURNS

(For the Mirror.)

Ye imp o' death, how durst ye dwell Within this pure and hallow'd cell, Thy purposes I ken fu' well Are to destroy, And wi' a mortal breathing spell, To blast each joy! Yet why upo' so sma' a flower, Dost thou exert thy deadly pow'r, And nip fair beauty's natal hour, Wi' thy vile breath, It is when wint'ry storms do low'r, We look for death. But thou, thou evil one, hast come, To bring this wee rose to its doom, Not i' time of woe and gloom, But i' the spring, When flowerets just begin to bloom. And birds to sing. O fie, begone fra out my sight, Nor dare attempt such joy to blight, Thou evil wicked-doing doit, Then hie away, Seek not the morning, but the night To crush thy prey!

J. F. C.

THE CONTEMPORARY TRAVELLER

JOURNEY IN SEARCH OF THE RED INDIANS OF NEWFOUNDLAND

(Concluded from page 136.)

"We spent several melancholy days wandering on the borders of the east end of the lake, surveying the various remains of what we now contemplated to have been an unoffending and cruelly extirpated people. At several places, by the margin of the lake, are small clusters of winter and summer wigwams in ruins. One difference, among others, between the Boeothick wigwams and those of the other Indians, is, that in most of the former there are small hollows, like nests, dug in the earth around the fireplace, one for each person to sit in. These hollows are generally so close together, and also so close to the fireplace, and to the sides of the wigwam, that I think it probable these people have been accustomed to sleep in a sitting position. There was one wooden building constructed for drying and smoking venison in, still perfect; also a small log-house, in a dilapidated condition, which we took to have been once a storehouse. The wreck of a large, handsome, birch-rind canoe, about twenty-two feet in length, comparatively new, and certainly very little used, lay thrown up among the bushes at the beach. We supposed that the violence of a storm had rent it in the way it was found, and that the people who were in it had perished; for the iron nails, of which there was no want, all remained in it. Had there been any survivors, nails being much prized by these people, they never having held intercourse with Europeans, such an article would most likely have been taken out for use again. All the birch trees in the vicinity of the lake had been rinded, and many of them, and of the spruce fir, or var, had the bark taken off, to use the inner part of it for food, as noticed before."

"Their wooden repositories for the dead are what are in the most perfect state of preservation. These are of different constructions, it would appear, according to the character or rank of the persons entombed. In one of them, which resembled a hut ten feet by eight or nine, and four or five feet high in the centre, floored with squared poles, the roof covered with rinds of trees, and in every way well secured against the weather inside, and the intrusion of wild beasts, there were two grown persons laid out at full length, on the floor, the bodies wrapped round with deerskins. One of these bodies appeared to have been placed here not longer ago than five or six years. We thought there were children laid in here also. On first opening this building, by removing the posts which formed the ends, our curiosity was raised to the highest pitch; but what added to our surprise, was the discovery of a white deal coffin, containing a skeleton neatly shrouded in white muslin. After a long pause of conjecture how such a thing existed here, the idea of Mary March occurred to one of the party, and the whole mystery was at once explained.3"

Страница 3 из 12

Назад 1 2 3 4…12 Далее

The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 14, No. 388, September 5, 1829

AI-разбор доступен после входа

О книге

Читать онлайн

THE HUMBLE SPARROW'S ADDRESS TO T. S. A

(For the Mirror.)

TO A DESTRUCTIVE INSECT ON A ROSEBUD

IN MANNER OF BURNS

(For the Mirror.)

THE CONTEMPORARY TRAVELLER

JOURNEY IN SEARCH OF THE RED INDIANS OF NEWFOUNDLAND

(Concluded from page 136.)

Вам также может понравиться

The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 10, No. 279, October 20, 1827

The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 10, No. 262, July 7, 1827

The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 10, No. 264, July 14, 1827

The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 10, No. 276, October 6, 1827

The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 14, No. 385, August 15, 1829

The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 14, No. 399, Supplementary Number

The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 10, No. 273, September 15, 1827

The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 20, No. 582, December 22, 1832

The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 10, No. 268, August 11, 1827

The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 12, No. 331, September 13, 1828

The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 12, No. 333, September 27, 1828

The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 13. Index to Volume 13