Front Cover
 Half Title
 Title Page
 Front Matter
 Table of Contents
 List of Illustrations
 The cry of the suffering creat...
 The true story of Web-Spinner
 The stormy Peterel
 The camel
 The reindeer
 The spider and the fly
 The eagle
 The coot
 The carrion-crow
 Northern seas
 Southern seas
 The Kingfisher
 The screech-owl
 The house-sparrow
 The humming-bird
 The ostrich
 The squirrel
 The water-rat
 The beaver
 Birds of passage
 The migration of the gray...
 A word to the jays
 The lion
 The wolf
 The hedgehog
 The sea-gull
 The raven
 The heron
 The dragon-fly
 The pheasant
 The dor-hawk
 The Carolina parrot
 The dog
 The elephant
 The falcon
 The wild swan
 The nautilus
 The silk-worm
 The bird of paradise
 The fox
 The dormouse
 The monkey
 The locust
 The woodpecker
 Little lamb and little child
 Back Matter
 Back Cover

Group Title: Nelsons' series of juvenile art-books
Title: Sketches of natural history, or, Songs of animal life
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00026956/00001
 Material Information
Title: Sketches of natural history, or, Songs of animal life
Series Title: Nelsons' series of juvenile art-books
Alternate Title: Mary Howitt's poems of natural history for the young
Songs of animal life
Physical Description: 212 p., 2 leaves of plates : ill. (some col.) ; 21 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Howitt, Mary Botham, 1799-1888 ( Author, Primary )
Giacomelli, Hector, 1822-1904 ( Engraver )
Jonnard ( Engraver )
Berveiller, E ( Engraver )
Rouget ( Engraver )
Sargent, A ( Engraver )
Meaulle, F ( Engraver )
Whymper, Josiah Wood, 1813-1903 ( Engraver )
Laly ( Engraver )
Thomas Nelson & Sons ( Publisher )
Publisher: T. Nelson and Sons
Place of Publication: London
New York
Publication Date: 1873
Copyright Date: c1851
Subject: Animals -- Juvenile poetry   ( lcsh )
Birds -- Juvenile poetry   ( lcsh )
Flowers -- Juvenile poetry   ( lcsh )
Natural history -- Juvenile poetry   ( lcsh )
Bldn -- 1873
Children's poetry
Genre: poetry   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: England -- London
Scotland -- Edinburgh
United States -- New York -- New York
Statement of Responsibility: written by Mary Howitt ; and illustrated with upwards of one hundred drawings by H. Giacomelli.
General Note: Added t.p. and frontispiece printed in colors.
Funding: Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00026956
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002231863
notis - ALH2250
oclc - 09652207

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Half Title
        Page i
        Page ii
    Title Page
        Page iii
        Page iv
    Front Matter
        Page v
        Page vi
    Table of Contents
        Page vii
        Page viii
    List of Illustrations
        Page ix
        Page x
        Page xi
        Page xii
    The cry of the suffering creatures
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
    The true story of Web-Spinner
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
    The stormy Peterel
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
    The camel
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
    The reindeer
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
    The spider and the fly
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
    The eagle
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
    The coot
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
    The carrion-crow
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
    Northern seas
        Page 52
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
    Southern seas
        Page 56
        Page 57
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
        Page 61
    The Kingfisher
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 64
    The screech-owl
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
    The house-sparrow
        Page 69
        Page 70
        Page 71
        Page 72
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 77
        Page 78
    The humming-bird
        Page 79
        Page 80
        Page 81
        Page 82
        Page 83
    The ostrich
        Page 84
        Page 85
        Page 86
    The squirrel
        Page 87
        Page 88
        Page 89
    The water-rat
        Page 90
        Page 91
        Page 92
    The beaver
        Page 93
        Page 94
        Page 95
        Page 96
    Birds of passage
        Page 97
        Page 98
        Page 99
        Page 100
    The migration of the gray squirrels
        Page 101
        Page 102
        Page 103
        Page 104
        Page 105
    A word to the jays
        Page 106
        Page 107
        Page 108
    The lion
        Page 109
        Page 110
        Page 111
    The wolf
        Page 112
        Page 113
        Page 114
        Page 115
        Page 116
    The hedgehog
        Page 117
        Page 118
        Page 119
    The sea-gull
        Page 120
        Page 121
        Page 122
        Page 123
    The raven
        Page 124
        Page 125
        Page 126
        Page 127
        Page 128
    The heron
        Page 129
        Page 130
        Page 131
        Page 132
        Page 133
        Page 134
        Page 135
        Page 136
        Page 137
    The dragon-fly
        Page 138
        Page 139
        Page 140
        Page 141
        Page 142
    The pheasant
        Page 143
        Page 144
        Page 145
        Page 146
    The dor-hawk
        Page 147
        Page 148
        Page 149
    The Carolina parrot
        Page 150
        Page 151
        Page 152
        Page 153
        Page 154
        Page 155
        Page 156
    The dog
        Page 157
        Page 158
        Page 159
        Page 160
        Page 161
    The elephant
        Page 162
        Page 163
        Page 164
        Page 165
    The falcon
        Page 166
        Page 167
        Page 168
        Page 169
        Page 170
        Page 171
        Page 172
    The wild swan
        Page 173
        Page 174
        Page 175
        Page 176
        Page 177
    The nautilus
        Page 178
        Page 179
        Page 180
        Page 181
        Page 182
    The silk-worm
        Page 183
        Page 184
        Page 185
    The bird of paradise
        Page 186
        Page 187
        Page 188
        Page 189
    The fox
        Page 190
        Page 191
        Page 192
    The dormouse
        Page 193
        Page 194
        Page 195
    The monkey
        Page 196
        Page 197
        Page 198
        Page 199
        Page 200
    The locust
        Page 201
        Page 202
        Page 203
    The woodpecker
        Page 204
        Page 205
        Page 206
        Page 207
        Page 208
    Little lamb and little child
        Page 209
        Page 210
        Page 211
        Page 212
    Back Matter
        Back Matter
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
Full Text



~fllrlT- ~aFSiF~Pa~Tsi

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i;c~g r

The Baldwin Library




ribdsoni Series of Jutnici lc i rt-300ooko.





M-it v"1) r i o itt,






7 'HEREVER the English language is spoken, it may be said,
Without exaggeration, that the name of Mary Howitt is
familiar as a household word. Apart from her more con-
siderable works, she is everywhere recognized as the Chil-
dren's Favourite-as one of their happiest and most success-
ful teachers ; setting before them the highest truths and most
graceful fancies with all the embellishment of a polished yet simple diction.
Her t!..r. I. ., of Natural History" have long enjoyed a wide and
well-deserved popularity. Seldom have the habits and manners of
animals, with glimpses of rural life, and suggestions of picturesque land-
scapes, been brought before the young in a more attractive manner. And
indeed, Mrs. Howitt being a poetess of no mean order, the following
pages may be read with interest and pleasure by children of a larger
growth than those for whom they were primarily intended. They are
characterized by an infinite variety; and Mrs. Howitt seems equally at
home when singing of the Stormy Petrel or the Lion, or when describing
in sportive verse the gambols of the Monkey or the vagaries of the
Carolina Parrot. She ranges at will from grave to gay, from lively to
severe, and invariably carries her reader with her.
It will be observed that two or three of the poems here included are
from the pen of William Howitt, the accomplished husband of an accom-
plished wife. And it should be added that the pieces marked in the
List of Contents with an asterisk are entirely new, having been written
expressly by Mrs. Howitt for the present issue of the Sketches."
In bringing out this edition, the Publishers have been anxious to fit


it for a place in their new series of Juvenile Art-Books, and to present
it as a worthy companion of the Author's Birds and Flowers." For
this purpose, they committed the task of illustrating them to one of the
most distinguished of modern artists, H. GIACOMELLI, who is now so well
known by his illustrations of The Bird and Nature," and his share
in 1M. Gustave Dore's Bible." It is not for them to assume the
functions of the critic, but they may be pardoned for expressing their
conviction that Children's Books are seldom enriched with Engravings
so poetical in conception and so finished in execution. If carefully
studied by the juvenile reader, they must materially assist in educating
his or her artistic taste.
It is the hope of the Publishers that the combined labours of Mary
Howitt and H. Giacomelli have resulted in the production of a welcome
addition to the stores of Juvenile Literature.


MY kind Publishers, in their preliminary Note to the present edition of
this work, have expressed themselves in such obliging terms in relation
to it, that I feel some diffidence in complying with their desire that I
would myself add a few words before finally dismissing it from the press.
I may, however, avail I.,-. if of this opportunity of acknowledg-
ilg the gratification I feel in seeing my book brought out in so
beautiful a manner, and illustrated and embellished by 2M. Giacomelli,
an artist who has studied Nature so carefully, and who possesses so
peculiar a power of delineating her works, not only with rare fidelity,
hut, at the same time, both gracefully and poetically.
All honour has thus been done to these simple verses, which, in
themselves, can but claim to be as the wild-flowers by the wayside, or
the songs of the birds in the bushes ; and very great pleasure does it
afford me to see it permitted thus to enjoy, as it were, a second spring-


















THE OSTRICH, ... .. .





.. ... .. ... 13

.. ... ... ... ... 16

... ... .. ... ... 23

... ... .... 27



.. ... ... ... ... 39

.. ... ... ... 42

... 47

... ... .. ... ... 52

... .... ... ... 58

... ... ... ... ... 62

... .. .. ... 65

... ... ... ... ... 6!

... ... ... ... ... 79

... ... ... ... ... 84

... ... ... 93

...... 97


... 101










* QUAILS, ..




THE DOG, ... ...







THE FOX, ... .





.. 106

... ... ... 109

S. ... 112

... 117

... 120

... ... .... 124

... ... ... ... ... 129

... ...... ... ... 138

... 141

... ... ... ... 143

... .. ... ... ... ... 147

... ... ... ... ... .. 1 0

... ... ... ... ... ... 157

... ... ... ... ... ... 162

... ... ... ... .. ... 16M

... .. ... ... .. ... 173

... ... ... ... .. ... 178

... ... ... ... .. ... 183

..... ..1... S6

... ... ... ... .. ... 190


S 196

... ..... 201

... ...... 204


NOTES, .. ... .

... 209

... 211




THE SUFFERING CREATURES ..... .................................... J. IV. Ihymper....... p13

"BRONTE".... ..... ......... ..... ... ...... ....................... J. 11. W Tiy per ......... 15

THE SPIDER'S RETREAT.. .... ... ......... .. .. Ro.. 0 tt ........ . . .

CAUGHT !............. .... ...... .. ... ......... E. Berceiller............ 21

THE STORIY PETREL ........... .... .... .... .... ..F. 3Meaulle....... ... 23

" THERE WAS A SHIP WENT DOWN LAST SIGHT ".................... A. Sargent.............. 25

IN THE DESERT.......... .. ..... .... .......... .... Jonnard.. .. .. ... 27

CAMELS RESTING ........ ..... . .. Jonnard .. ........ ..... 29

"IN A DREARY LAND or SNOW "..... ...... nn............ .. ..Jon ard............... 31

REINDEER AND SLEDGE ... .... . .. ... ... ...JOntiaTr .. .......... .. 34

THE SPIDER AND THE FLY... .... .. ......... .... .. ...Rouget........ ......... 35

"So HE WOVE A SUBTLE W EB" .......... ... .. ........... ... E. Berveiller............ 37

"LOOK, HOW HE SITS! WITH HIS KEEN GLANCING EYE"........... JIV. Whymper ......... 39

THE BIRD OF THE TILDERNESS ........................ .. ..... E. Berveiller............ 41

THE COOT'S HAUINT.......... ............ .. .. Roge. ............ .. 42

THE MOTHER-BIRD AND HER YOUNG.......... .. ............. E. Berreiller........... 45

"ON A SPLINTERED BOUGH SITS THE CARRION-CROW .Rg" ............. ct .......... 47

"SHE LIES IN A HOLLOW, I KNOW WHERE "........... ........... F. Melaulle.............. 49

"THE ICEBERGS VAST".... .... .... ..... ...... ... F. Mdaulle ............ 52


" THE SLEEPY SEALS AGCROUND "...... ...... ...............E. Berceiller ........... 54

THE CORAL ISLAND........... ........ ... .... ...... .... J. V. Whymper......... 56

A SOUTHERN PARADISE ............ ..... ...... .. ......Jonnard................ 60

THE KINGFISHER ON THE WATCH ................ ............ .. E. Berveiller........... 62

SHE SEEKS FOR SMALL FISHES THE SHALLOWS AMONG .........E. Berveiller. .......... 63

THE SCREECII-OWL............. ..... .. ..............louget .................. 65

"SPLINTERED TOWER AND CRUIBLING COLUMN ." ................ .. Meaulle... .......

SPARROWS ON THE HOUSE-TOPS............. .. ..............E.Berveiller........... (i69

" ON COTTAGE-THATCH ". ............. ...... ...... ... E. Berveiller............ 72

THE SCARECROW IN THE CORN-FIELD .......................... J. i. TIVymper......... ..7

NOT CAUGHT IN A TRAP. ........ .. .... ............E. Berveiller. ........... 77

" IT LIVES AMONGST THE SUNNY FLOWERS"..................... Berveiller............ 79

"SHE HANGS IT TO A SLENDER TWIG "............ .......... ... E. Berveiller............ S1

"THE WILD OSTRICH, THE BIRD OF THE WASTE"....... ....E. Berveiller............ 84

HiUNTING THE OSTRICH............. ..... .... ........... .. Jon ard.... .......... 86

"THE PRETTY RED SQUIRREL LIVES UP IN A TREE ".............. .. RoUget................. 87

"AND THEN INDEPENDENTLY CRACKS HIS NUT". ................. .ouftc .................. 8

TIHE WATER-RAT ................. ............... .. J IV. VWhymper. ...... 90

''TIS HIS HOME, AND A SNUG LITTLE HOME IT MUST BE .........Rugeet ................. 02

THE BEAVER AT WORK .......................... ........ J. I. Wlhymper.......... 93

BEAVERS AT PEACE. ......... .. .. ..... ........... ....A. Sargent............ 95

BIRDS OF PASSAGE ON THEIR WAY TO THE SOUTH...................E. Berveiller............ 97

AT FLIGHT ....... ..... .. ...... .. .. ............. Ettling ................. 100

THE GRAY SQUIRRELS AT HOME............... ............J. IV. Whymper........ 101


PURSUE"...... .................. .... ....... ounget .............. .. 104

THE JAY.............. ..... ........... ..... .. ... WII. Jhymper ........ 106

THE LION............ ............ .J nard.............. 109

THE LION AND HIS PEY .............. ................ F. Meanlle ............ 111

WOLVES PROWLING OVER THE BATTLE-FIELD.....................Jonnard................ 112

A PACK OF WOLVES ON THE HUNT.............. ...... .......F. MIaulle.............. 116

THE HEDGEHOG AND HER YOUNG ......... ............... Rouet ................ 117

GROUP OF CHILDREN WITH A PET HEDGEHOG.................... Roget.................. 119

"OH, THE WHITE SEA-GULL, THE WILD SEA-GULL".......... S .................A. S t ........... 120


THE SEA-GULL ON THE SHORE....... .... .... ......... E. Berveiler. ....... 12:3

THE RAVEN FEEDING THE PROPHET ELIJAH .......... ........... TV Whyper. ...... 124

" BY YOU MUST THIS lMAN BE FED" ........... .. .. ........ .. Berveiller .......... 127

THE HERON'S HAUNT "BY THE MOORLAND WATERS "..............J Iihympel..... 12!)

IN OLDEN TIMES : GOING A-HAWKING ............ ...... ...... ...JonL ard .......... ... 131

" ITP, UP INTO THE AZURE SKIES". ..... ... ... ..... ..... .... E. Berveiller.......... 132


1)RAGON-FLIES ..................... .. .... ... .. ..... .... T I. ymp r .... 13

"'IMONGST PLUMES OF MEADOW-SWEET". ........ .... .........E. Berreiller............ 139

THE RETREAT OF THE QUAILS....... ........ .... ..... ... Da el ................ 141

THE QUAIL-1MOTHER AND HER BROOD .......................... E Berceiller...... .... 142

THE PHEASANTS AMONG TIE YOUNG GREEN BIRCHES............. RouCOget................- 143

"THE PHEASANT IS THERE ALL LIFE, ALL GRACE"............... A. Sargent........ .... 141

THE DOR-HAWK ................ .. ... ....... A. Sargent ........... 147

THE CAROLINA PARROT...... ... .. ... ........... .. E. Bereiller. .......... 150

A BETr OF BIRDS ............ ......... ........ E. Berveill r............ 154

" PLAYING BO-PEEP WITH THEIR MOTHERS ......... ............ E. Berveiller.. .... .... 156

PORTRAITS OF DOGS ..... ... ...... ..... .. ... ........ Rouet.................. 157

THE PROUD MOTHER. ... ...... .......... ........... ... 0 et. ................ 1(1i

THE ELEPHANT .............. .. ....... .. .. .... 1 ~. M l le........... 162

ELEPHANTS AT PLAY........ ... ......Jo. Ol)lzard ............... 1.,

THE FALCON AND HIS VICTIM ... ........ .. .. .. .... Jomia'rd........ ...... 1(

" THE LONE WOOD IS YOUR HOME By DAY .......................A. Sargent....... .... 172

THE STATELY SWAN ............... ..... .. ................ TJ I hymler. ....... 173

" UP THE SWAN COMES SAILING, PLUMY ALL AND WHITE "........ Berveiller ........... 174

THE NAUTILUS ........ .... .... ..Jo...J oiardE .. ...... ..... .. 178

"THY LITTLE BOAT, AIRY VOYAGERE"........ ... ........ ....... Jo i .. .. ............ SO

"THE SILK-WORM ON THE MRULBERRY-TREE"............. ..... A. Sargent........... 183

THE SILK-WORHM MOTH AND ITS COCOON..................... ..... I..... Jon .......... ... 4 184

THE BIRD OF PARADISE IN FLIGHT...... .. .. .. ......... E. Berveller...... ..... 1S

THE BIRD OF PARADISE AT REST. .............. ... .. A. Sargent .......... 1

THE FOX IN HIS LAI ..................... ........ ouet .............. 190

THE FURTHEST NOOK OF THE DREARY PLACE"..... .. .BOl let................ 19)

THIE DOiRMOUSE MAKING A MEAL...... ............... ...... ......A. Sarnget.. .. 193!


"THE LITTLE DORMOUSE PEEPS OUT AT LAST ". ................... Rou.et.......... ... 191

A GROUP OF MONKEYS. ........ ......... .......... ....Rouget ................. 196

"How YOU SAT AND MADE A DIN"................................ E. Berveiller .......... 197

"THE LOCUST IS FIERCE, AND STRONG, AND GRIM "............ E. Berreiller .......... 291

THE LocUST. ................ ...... .... ... ..... ....Jonn.ard............... 203

WOODPECKERS AT WORK .......................... ..... .Ro1get ................ 204

"COME TO THE WOOD--TO THE OODPECKER'S TREE"..............E. Berveiler........... 206

" WILL HE COME TO HIS PORTAL AND SLYLY PEEP OUT". .......... E Berreiller............ 208

THE TWO FRIENDS...... ..............F. Mldaulle. ............ 209

THE PET LAMB .......... .................. ..... F. a le............ 210



Ks"II \




OH ; that they had pity,
the men we serve so truly!
Oh that they had kindness,
the men we love so well!
They call us dull and stupid, and vicious and unruly,
And think not we can suffer, but only would rebel.

They brand us, and they beat us; they spill our blood
like water;
We die that they may live, ten thousand in a day!


Oh! that they had mercy for in their dens of slaughter
They afflict us and affright us, and do far worse than slay !

We are made to be their servants-we know it, and complain not;
We bow our necks with meekness the galling yoke to hear.
Their heaviest toil we lighten, the meanest we disdain not;
In all their sweat and labour we take a willing share.

We know that God intended for us but servile stations,
To toil to bear man's burdens, to watch beside his door;
They are of earth the masters, we are their poor relations,
Who grudge them not their greatness, but help to make it more.

And in return we ask but, that they would kindly use us
For the purposes of service, for that for which we're made;
That they would teach their children to love and not abuse us,
So each might face the other, and neither be afraid.

We have a sense they know not, or else have dulled by learning,
They call it instinct only, a thing of rule and plan;
But oft when reason fails them, our clear, direct discerning,
And the love that is within us, have saved the life of man.


If they would but love us, would learn our strength and weakness,
If only with our sufferings their hearts could sympathize,

Then they would know what truth is,what patience is and meekness.
And read our heart's devotion in the softness of our eyes!

If they would but teach their children to treat the subject creatures
As humble friends, as servants who strive their love to win,
Then would they see how joyous, how kindly are our natures,
And a second day of Eden would on the earth begin !




\\ II I I,, .. ...t' l..v ,.l, .' .
It l .i, v, ,. 1i r, '_ hI 1 ,..- ", l ,',- t
.\ l l ,,I j.. I .t i ,.,, ,. ,,l, .
H ii- v i ,,. I tl .. .'il bl.. .

.I ',, a o ln t'-i,,11 *h sir ,
I-]i in l ,i, -,',, i atcl i il
In a corner of the street;


And always had a dirty look,
Whilst other homes were neat.
Up in his garret dark he lived,
And from the windows high
Looked out in the dusky evening
Upon the passers-by.
Most people thought he lived alone,
And many have averred
That dismal cries from out his house
Were often loudly heard;
And that none living left his gate,
Although a few went in;
For he seized the very beggar old,
And stripped him to the skin;
And though he prayed for mercy,
Yet mercy ne'er was shown-
The miser cut his body up,
And picked him bone from bone.
Thus people said, and all believed
The dismal story true;-
As it was told to me, in truth,
I tell it so to you.
There was an ancient widow,
One Madgy de la Moth,


A stranger to the man, or she
Had ne'er gone there, in troth;
But she was poor, and wandered out
At nightfall in the street,
To beg from rich men's tables
Dry scraps of broken meat.
So she knocked at old Web-Spinner's door
With a modest tap, and low,
And down-stairs came he speedily,
Like an arrow from a bow.
"Walk in, walk in, mother!" said he,
And shut the door behind;
She thought, for such a gentleman,
That he was wondrous kind.
But ere the midnight clock had tolled,
Like a tiger of the wood,
He had eaten the flesh from off her bones,
And drank of her heart's blood !
Now after this fell deed was done,
A little season's space,
The burly Baron of Bluebottle
Was riding from the chase;
The sport was dull, the day was hot,
The sun was sinking down,


When wearily the Baron rode
Into the dusty town.
Says he, I'll ask a lodging
At the first house I come to;"
With that the gate of Web-Spinner
Came suddenly in view.
Loud was the knock the Baron gave,-
Down came the churl with glee:
Says Bluebottle, "Good sir, to-night
I ask your courtesy;
I'm wearied with a long day's chase,
My friends are far behind."
"You may need them all," said Web-Spinner,
It runneth in my mind."
A baron am I," said Bluebottle,
From a foreign land I come."
"I thought as much," said Web-Spinner,
"For wise men stay at home I"
Says the Baron, Churl, what meaneth this ?
I defy you, villain base !"
And he wished the while with all his heart
He were safely from the place.
Web-Spinner ran and locked the door,
And a loud laugh laughed he;


With that each one on the other sprang,
And they wrestled furiously.
The Baron was a man of might,
A swordsman of renown;
But the miser had the stronger arm,
And kept the Baron down;
Then out he took a little cord
From a pocket at his side,
And with many a crafty, cruel knot
His hands and feet he tied;
And bound him down unto the floor,
And said in savage jest,
"There's heavy work in store for you,
So, Baron, take your rest "
Then up and down his house he went,
Arranging dish and platter,
With a dull and heavy countenance,
As if nothing were the matter.
At length he seized on Bluebottle,
That strong and burly man,
And with many and many a desperate tug
To hoist him up began:
And step by step, and step by step,
He went with heavy tread;


But ere he reached the garret door
Poor Bluebottle was dead

1, (

Now all this while a magistrate,
Who lived in the house hard by,
Had watched Web-Spinner's evil deeds
Through a window privily,
So in he bursts, through bolts and bars,
With a loud and thundering sound,
And vows to burn the house with fire,
And level it with the ground;
But the wicked churl, who all his life
Had looked for such a day,
Passed through a trap-door in the wall,
And took himself away.


But where he went no man could tell;
'Twas said that under-ground
He died a miserable death,
But his body ne'er was found.
They pulled his house down, stick and stone;
For a caitiff vile as he,"
Said they, "within our quiet town
Shall not a dweller be !"

5" k


0 STORMY, stormy Peterel,
Come rest thee, bird, awhile;
S There is no storm, believe me,
Anigh this summer isle.

Come, rest thy waving pinions;
Alight thee down by me;
And tell me somewhat of the lore
Thou earnest on the sea !


Dost hear beneath the ocean
The gathering tempest form ?
See'st thou afar the little cloud
That grows into the storm ?

How is it in the billowy depths-
Doth sea-weed heave and swell ?
And is a sound of coming woe
Rung from each caverned shell ?

Dost watch the stormy sunset
For tempests of the west;
And see the old moon riding slow
With the new moon on her breast ?

Dost mark the billows heaving
Before the coming gale,
And scream for joy of every sound
That turns the seaman pale ?

Are gusty tempests mirth to thee ?
Lov'st thou the lightning's flash;
The booming of the mountain waves-
The thunder's deafening crash ?


O stormy, stormy Peterel,
Thou art a bird of woe !
Yet would I thou couldst tell me half
Of the misery thou dost know !

There was a ship went down last night,-
A good ship and a fair;
A costly freight within her lay,
And many a soul was there !

The night-black storm was over her,
And neathh, the caverned wave :
In all her strength she perished,
Nor skill of man could save.



The cry of her great agony
Went upward to the sky;
She perished in her strength and pride,
Nor human aid was nigh.

But thou, 0 stormy Peterel,
Went'st screaming o'er the foam ;-
Are there no tidings from that ship
Which thou canst carry home ?

Yes! He who raised the tempest up,
Sustained each drooping one;
And God was present in the storm,
Though human aid was none ?

^...^-^W^,^. *s;
FPu .-r^'-^-




CAMEL, thou art good and mild,

Mightst be guided by a child;

Thou wast made for usefulness,

Alan to comfort and to bless:

Thou dost clothe him; thou dost feed;

Thou dost lend to him thy speed.

And through wilds of trackless sand,

In the hot Arabian land,


TYi~t L


Where no rock its shadow throws;
Where no pleasant water flows;
Where the hot air is not stirred
By the wing of singing bird,
There thou go'st, untired and meek,
Day by day, and week by week,
Bearing freight of precious things,-
Silks for merchants, gold for kings;
Pearls of Ormuz, riches rare,
Damascene and Indian ware;
Bale on bale, and heap on heap,
Freighted like a costly ship !

When the red simoom comes near,
Camel, dost thou know no fear ?
When the desert sands uprise,
Flaming crimson to the skies,
And like pillared giants strong,
Stalk the dreary waste along,
Bringing Death unto his prey,
Does not thy good heart give way ?
Camel, no thou dost for man
All thy generous nature can:


Thou dost lend to him thy speed
In that awful time of need;
And when the simoom goes by,
Teachest him to close his eye,
And bow down before the blast,
Till the purple death has-passed'

And when week by week is gone,
And the traveller journeys on
Feebly; when his strength is fled,
And his hope and heart seem dead,

Camel, thou dost turn thine eve
On him kindly, soothingly,
As if cheeringly to say,
" Journey on for this one day I


Do not let thy heart despond;
There is water yet beyond !
I can scent it in the air;
Do not let thy heart despair "
And thou guid'st the traveller there.

Camel, thou art good and mild,
Mightst be guided by a child;
Thou wast made for usefulness,
Man to comfort and to bless;
And these desert wastes must be
Untracked regions but for thee !

.- t--- ..- -


$ '. ,,', _-, : -

-- ; .

, L- "IN- E .:

REINDEER, not in fields like ours,
Full of grass and bright with flowers;
Not in pasture-dales where glide
Never-frozen rivers wide;
Not on hills where verdure bright
Clothes them to the topmost height,
Is thy dwelling; nor dost thou
Feed beneath the orange-bough;
Nor doth olive, nor doth vine



Bud or bloom in land of thine;
Thou wast made to fend and fare
In a region bleak and bare;
In a dreary land of snow,
Where green weeds can scarcely grow
Where the skies are gray and drear;
Where 'tis night for half the year;
Reindeer, where, unless for thee,
Human dweller could not be.

When thou wast at first designed
By the great Creative Mind-
With thy patience and thy speed;
With thy aid for human need;
With thy gentleness; thy might;
With thy simple appetite;
With thy foot so framed to go
Over frozen wastes of snow;
Thou wast made for sterner skies
Than horizoned paradise;
Thou for frozen lands wast meant,
Ere the winter's frost was sent;
And in love God sped thee forth
To thy home, the barren North,


Where he bade the rocks produce
Bitter lichens for thy use.

What the camel is, thou art,-
Strong of frame, and strong in heart i
Peaceful; steadfast to fulfil;
Serving man with right good will;
Serving long, and serving hard;
Asking but a scant reward;
Of the snow a short repast,
Or the mosses cropped in haste:
Then away! with all thy strength,
Speeding him the country's length,-
Speeding onward, like the wind,
With the sliding sledge behind.
What the camel is, thou art,-
Doing well thy needful part:
O'er the burning sand he goes,
Thou upon the Arctic snows;-
Gifted each alike, yet meant
For lands and labours different!

More than gold mines is thy worth,
Treasure of the desert North,


Which, of thy good aid bereft,
Ten times desert must be left!
Flocks and herds in other lands,
And the labour of men's hands;
Coined gold and silver fine,
And the riches of the mine,-
These, elsewhere, as wealth are known;
Here, 'tis thou art wealth alone !

-'er CV

S- :i -

: 1' d
t v. d

t I t
''^ i, [,11, 1 h ~i, l/


The way into my parlour is up a winding stair,
And I have many curious things to show when you are there."
"Oh no, no," said the little Fly; "to ask me is in vain,
For who goes up your winding stair can ne'er come down again."

"I'm sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high;
Will you rest upon my little bed ?" said the Spider to the Fly.
"There are pretty curtains drawn around, the sheets are fine and
And if you like to rest awhile, I'll snugly tuck you in !"
"Oh no, no," said the little Fly; "for I've often heard it said,
They never, never wake again, who sleep upon your bed!"

Said the cunning Spider to the Fly, "Dear friend, what can I do
To prove the warm affection I've always felt for you ?
I have within my pantry good store of all that's nice;
I'm sure you're very welcome-will you please to take a slice ?"
"Oh no, no," said the little Fly, "kind sir, that cannot be,
I've heard what's in your pantry, and I do not wish to see !"

"Sweet creature!" said the Spider, "you're witty and your wise,
How handsome are your gauzy wings, how brilliant are your eyes !
I have a little looking-glass upon my parlour-shelf,
If you'll step in one moment, dear, you shall behold yourself."


"I thank you, gentle sir," she said, for what you're pleased to say,

And bidding you good-morning now, I'll call another day."
The Spider turned him round about, and went into his den,

For well he knew the silly Fly would soon come back again:
So he wove a subtle web, in a little corner sly,
And set his table ready, to dine upon the Fly.


Then he came out to his door again, and merrily did sing,-
Come hither, hither, pretty Fly with the pearl and silver wing;
Your robes are green and purple, there's a crest upon your head;
Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but mine are dull as lead "
Alas alas i how very soon this silly little Fly,
Hearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flitting by;


With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer drew,
Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, and green and purple hue-
Thinking only of her crested head-poor foolish thing At last,
Up jumped the cunning Spider, and fiercely held her fast.
He ,1 .-_' .1 her up his winding stair, into his dismal den,
Within his little parlour-but she ne'er came out again !

And now, dear little children, who may this story read,
To idle, silly flattering words, I pray you, ne'er give heed:
Unto an evil counsellor close heart and ear and eye,
And take a lesson from this tale of the Spider and the Fly.

41 22"

-- .t


'++ ., .--__


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And not in the woods, where the

nightingale's song
0 son






From the chestnut and orange pours all the day long;
And not where the martin has built in the eaves,
And the redbreast once covered the children with
Shall ye find the proud Eagle! Oh no, come away;
I will show you his dwelling, and point out his prey !
Away! let us go where the mountains are high,
With tall splintered peaks towering into the sky;
Where old ruined castles are dreary and lone,
And seem as if built for a world that is gone;
There, up on the topmost tower, black as the night,
Sits the old monarch Eagle in full blaze of light:
He is king of these mountains: save him and his mate,
No eagle dwells here; he is lonely and great!
Look, look how he sits! with his keen glancing eye,
And his proud head thrown back, looking into the sky;
And hark to the rush of his outspreading wings,
Like the coming of tempest, as upward he springs;
And now how the echoing mountains are stirred,
For that was the cry of the Eagle you heard!
And see how he soars! like a speck in the height
Of the blue vaulted sky, and now lost in the light!
Now downward he wheels as a shaft from a bow
By a strong archer sent, to the valleys below


And that is the bleat of a lamb of the flock;-
One moment, and he reascends to the rock;-
Yes, see how the conqueror is winging his way,
And his terrible talons are holding their prey 1

Great bird of the wilderness lonely and proud,
With a spirit unbroken, a neck never bowed;
With an eye of defiance, august and severe,
Who scorn'st an inferior and hatest a peer,
What is it that giveth thee beauty and worth ?
Thou wast made for the desolate places of earth;
To mate with the tempest; to match with the sea;
And God showed His power in the lion and thee!



O COOT! 0 bold, adventurous Coot'
I pray thee tell to me
The perils of that stormy time
That bore thee to the sea !

I saw thee on the river fair,
Within thy sedgy screen;


Around thee grew the bulrush tall,
And reeds so strong and green.

The kingfisher came back again,
To view thy fairy place;
The stately swan sailed statelier by,
As if thy home to grace.

But soon the mountain flood came down,
And bowed the bulrush strong;
And far above those tall green reeds
The waters poured along.

"And where is she, the Water-Coot,"
I cried, that creature good ?"
But then I saw thee in thine ark,
Regardless of the flood.

Amid the foaming waves thou sat'st,
And steeredst thy little boat,-
Thy nest of rush and water-reed,-
So bravely set afloat.


And on it went, and safely, on
That wild and stormy tide;
And there thou sat'st, a mother-bird,
Thy young ones at thy side.

O Coot! 0 bold, adventurous Coot
I pray thee tell to me
The perils of that stormy voyage
That bore thee to the sea !

Hadst thou no fear, as night came down
Upon thy watery way,
Of cruel foes, and dangers dire
That round about thee lay?

Didst thou not see the falcon grim
- Swoop down as thou passed by ?
And 'mongst the waving water-flags
The lurking otter lie ?

The eagle's scream came wildly near,
Yet caused it no alarm ?
Nor man, who seeing thee, weak thing,
Did strive to do thee harm ?


And down the foaming waterfall,
As thou wast borne along,
Hadst thou no dread ? 0 daring bird,
Thou hadst a spirit strong !

-~ -. -

Yes, thou hadst fear! But He who sees
The sparrows when they fall;
He saw thee, bird, and gave thee strength
To brave thy perils all.


He kept thy little ark afloat;

He watched o'er thine and thee;

And safely through the foaming flood

Hath brought thee to the sea 1

" ~.



; 44'-414

I .

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't -. '\\ h- I, .. ,, 1 ,- .. i ,t ,. ri
I ttI

On the topmost branch of an ancient oak

The Carrion-crow has perched to croak;


In the gloom of a forest the old oak grows,-
When it was young, there's nobody knows.

'Tis but half alive, and up in the air
You may see its branches splintered and bare;
You may see them plain in the cloudy night,
They are so skeleton-like and white.

The old oak trunk is gnarled and gray,
But the wood has rotted all away;
Nothing remains but a cave-like shell,
Where bats, and spiders, and millepeds dwell;

And the tawny owl and the noisy daw,
In many a hollow and many a flaw;
By night or by day, were you there about,
You might see them creep in, or see them creep out.

And there, on the top of that ancient oak,
The Carrion-crow he sits to croak.
The words of his croaking I fain would know;
What does he say-that Carrion-crow ?

He says-and he's merry as he can be-
"To-night there's a famous feast for me;


For me and my mate so beautiful,
Where the hound lies dead by the forest pool.

His master lie knows not where lie lies,
So we shall go down to peck out his eyes;
His master he mourneth, early and late;
But 'tis joy to me and my beautiful mate

" And the miller last week he killed his mare,-
She lies in a hollow, I know where,-
There's an ancient cross of crumbling stone
Down in that hollow, dank and lone!


"The mare was blind, and lame, and thin;
She had not a bone but it pierced her skin;
For twenty years did she come and go,-
We'll be with her anon '" croaked the Carrion-crow.

"And there bleats a lamb by the thundering linn;
The mother ewe she has tumbled in.
Three days ago and the lamb was strong;
Now he is weak with fasting long.

"To the rocks and trees he moans and calls,
And over his mother the water falls;
He can see his mother down below,
But why she tarries he does not know.

"His little heart doth pine away,
And fainter and fainter he bleats to-day;
So loud o'er the linn the waters brawl,
That the shepherd heareth him not at all;

"Twice I've been down to look at him,
But he glanced on me his eyeballs dim;
And among the stones so cold and bare
I saw the raven watching there.


"He'll have the first peck at his black eye,
And taste of his heart before it die:-
Aha though the hungry raven is there,
As soon as he's ready we'll have our share !"

These are the words of the Carrion-crow,
As he first croaks loud and then croaks low;
And the spiders and millepeds hear him croak,
As he sits up aloft on the ancient oak.


UP up let us a voyage take;
Why sit we here at ease?
Find us a vessel tight and snug,
Bound for the Northern Seas.

I long to see the northern lights,
With their rushing splendours, fly,

-w wr


Like living things, with flaming wings,
Wide o'er the wondrous sky.

I long to see those icebergs vast,
With heads all crowned with snow,
Whose green roots sleep in the awful deep,
Two hundred fathoms low.

I long to hear the thundering crash
Of their terrific fall;
And the echoes from a thousand cliffs,
Like lonely voices call.

There shall we see the fierce white bear;
The sleepy seals aground;
And the spouting whales, that to and fio
Sail with a dreary sound.

There may we tread on depths of ice,
That the hairy mammoth hide;
Perfect as when, in times of old,
The mighty creature died.


And whilst the unsetting sun shines on
Through the still heaven's deep blue,
We'll traverse the azure waves, the herds
Of the dread sea-horse to view.


We'll pass the shores of solemn pine,
Where wolves and black bears prowl;
And away to the rocky isles of mist,
To rouse the northern fowl.

Up there shall start ten thousand wings,
With a rushing, whistling din;
Up shall the auk and fulmar start,-
All but the fat penguin.


And there, in the wastes of the silent sky,
With the silent earth below,
We shall see, far off to his lonely rock,
The lonely eagle go.

Then softly, softly will we tread
By inland streams, to see
Where the pelican of the silent north
Sits there all silently.

But if thou love the Southern Seas,
And pleasant summer weather,
Come, let us mount this gallant ship,
And sail away together.

w. H.

.9 U --- -

:^. .si'-THIKIN SEAS

S Up we will seek the glowing South-
Leave care and cold behind.
Let the shark pursue through the waters blue
Our flying vessel's track;
Let strong winds blow, and rocks below
Threaten,-we turn not back.


Trusting in Him who holds the sea
In his Almighty hand,
We pass the awful waters wide-
Tread many a far-off strand.
Right onward as our course we hold,
From day to day, the sky
Above our head its arch shall spread
More glowing, bright, and high;
And from night to night-oh, what delight
In its azure depths to mark
Stars all unknown come glittering out
Over the ocean dark.
The moon uprising like a sun,
So stately, large, and sheen,
And the very stars, like clustered moons,
In the crystal ether keen.
Whilst all about the ship, below,
Strange fiery billows play,-
The ceaseless keel through liquid fire
Cuts wondrously its way.
But oh, the South! the balmy South!
How warm the breezes float
How warm the amber waters stream
From off our basking boat!


Come down, come down from the tall ship's side,-
What a marvellous sight is here !
Look purple rocks and crimson trees,
Down in the deep so clear.
See where those shoals of dolphins go,
A glad and glorious band,
Sporting amongst the roseate woods
Of a coral fairy-land.
See on the violet sands beneath
How the gorgeous shells do glide I
O Sea old Sea, who yet knows half
Of thy wonders and thy pride !
Look how the sea-plants trembling float,
As it were like a mermaid's locks,
Waving in thread of ruby red
Over those nether rocks,
Heaving and sinking, soft and fair,
Here hyacinth-there green-
With many a stem of golden growth,
And starry flowers between.
But away I away to upper day !
For monstrous shapes are here,-
Monsters of dark and wallowing bulk,
And horny eyeballs drear:


The tusked mouth, and the spiny fin,
Speckled and warted back;
The glittering swift, and the flabby slow,
Ramp through this deep sea track.
Away away to upper day,
To glance o'er the breezy brine,
And see the nautilus gladly sail,
The flying-fish leap and shine.
But what is that ? "'Tis land --'tis land --
'Tis land !" the sailors cry.
Nay :-'tis a long and a narrow cloud,
Betwixt the sea and sky.
"'Tis land! 'tis land!" they cry once more-
And now comes breathing on
An odour of the living earth,
Such as the sea hath none.
But now I mark the rising shores !
The purple hills >-the trees!
Ah what a glorious land is here,
What happy scenes are these
See how the tall palms lift their locks
From mountain clefts,-what vales,
Basking beneath the noon-tide sun,
That high and hotly sails.


Yet all about the breezy shore,
Unheedful of the glow,
Look how the children of the South

Are passing to and fro !
What noble forms I what fairy place !

Cast anchor in this cove,

Push out the boat, for in this land
A little we must rove !

We'll wander on through wood and field,

We'll sit beneath the vine;
We'll drink the limpid cocoa-milk,

And pluck the native pine.



The bread-fruit and cassada-root,
And many a glowing berry,
Shall be our feast; for here, at least,
Why should we not be merry !
For 'tis a southern paradise,
All gladsome-plain and shore-
A land so far, that here we are,
But shall be here no more.

We've seen the splendid southern clime,
Its seas, and isles, and men,
So now back to a dearer land-
To England back again
W. H.

.. ... ----- -

No i1. of fo

-t- '-

I -- --- --
-_ _1


Fon the handsome Kingfisher go not to the tree,-
No bird of the field or the forest is he;
In the dry riven rock he did never abide,
And not on the brown heath all barren and wide.

He lives where the fresh, sparkling waters are flowing,
Where the tall, heavy typha and loose-strife are growing;


By the bright little streams that all joyfully run
Awhile in the shadow, and then in the sun.

He lives in a hole that is quite to his mind,
With the green mossy hazel-roots firmly entwined;
Where the dark alder-bough waves gracefully o'er,
And the sword-flag and arrow-head grow at his door.

There busily, busily, all the day long,
He seeks for small fishes the shallows among;
For he builds his nest of the pearly fish-bone,
Deep, deep in the bank, far retired and alone.


Then the brown water-rat from his burrow looks out,

To see what his neighbour Kingfisher's about;

And the green dragon-fly, flitting slowly away,

Just pauses one moment to bid him good-day.

O happy Kingfisher I what care can lie know,

By the clear, pleasant streams, as he skims to and fro,
Now lost in the shadow, now bright in the sheen

Of the hot summer sun, glancing scarlet and green !

r-~6 -

N. X

4 ,
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1':.kY tl.....-, l.w i, w .ti t ait tl,..i ....i! .,

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N .v ;, itti..- t i, -hj.-t-, ,:!,.u, .

Wild nuril ulidA a i cunl up thL Lhuluw,

And the pelting rain doth follow;

And the trees, the tempest braving,

To and fro are wildly waving!

Every living thing is creeping

To its den, and silence keeping,


rA (

j -'

V .


Saving thou, the night hallooing
With thy dismalest tu-whoo-ing
Nought I see, so black the night is,
Black the storm, too, in its might is;
But I know there lies the forest,
Peril ever there the sorest,
Where the wild deer-stealers wander;
And the ruin lieth yonder,

Splintered tower and crumbling column
All among the yew-trees solemn,
Where the toad and lizard clamber
Into many an ancient chamber,
And below, the black rocks under,
Like the muttering, coming thunder,


Lowly muttering, rolling ever,
Passes on the fordless river:-
Yet I see the black night only,
Covering all, so deep and lonely !
Prithee, Owl, what art thou saying,
So terrific and dismaying ?
Dost thou speak of loss and ruin,
In that ominous tu-whoo-ing ?
While the tempest yet was stiller,
Homeward rode the kindly miller,
With his drenched meal-sacks o'er him,
And his little son before him;
Dripping wet, yet loud in laughter,
Rode the jolly hunters after;
And sore wet, and blown, and wilder,
Went a huddling group of children,
And each, through the tempest's pother,
Got home safely to its mother;
And ere afternoon was far on,
Up the mountain spurred the baron.
How can evil then betide 'em ?
In their houses warm they hide 'em ;
In his chimney-corner smoking,
Sits the miller, spite thy croaking;


And the children, snug and cosy,
In their beds sleep warm and rosy;
And the baron, with his lady,
Plays at chess sedate and steady.
Hoot awav, then, if it cheer thee,-
Only I and darkness hear thee.
Trusting Heaven, we'll fear no ruin,
Spite thy ominous tu-whoo-ing I

-~ ~~c-
-~ I

THE H .T;s:E-SPARR: 1 \V

SIN hid. .., i. i l, t i I. i- -ti .,nge

1j. 11 v..in I,-tts

Your clowns, your grooms, in feather-legs or


Your hawks, and gulls, and harpies to satiety.

I -

1 ;w

N. 2


On sea or land, it matters not an ace,
You find the feathered or unfeathered race
Of bipeds, showing every form and figure,
But everywhere the sharp-clawed and the bigger-
Falcons that shoot, and men that pull the trigger-
Still pressing on the lesser and forlorn:
'Tis hard to bear, and yet it must be borne,
Although we walk about in wrath and scorn,
To see the hectoring, lording, and commotion
For ever going on in earth or ocean
The conquerors fierce; those thievish chaps, the
That chirp and gabble, wheedle and bamboozle;
The jackdaw race of pleaders, the pert lawyers,
In their gray wigs, the sober rooks that puzzle;
Land-sharks, and pirates both of sea and land;
Your cormorants acting the sedate and grand;
The singers, and the Paganinis,
Who filch your fruit, and pocket up your
The tomit, mime; the wren, small poet;
The silly creatures that by scores
Nurse cuckoo-imps, that out of doors
Have turned their children, and they never know it


I walk in cities, amongg the human herds,
And then I think of birds:
I walk in woods among the birds, and then
I think of men !
'Tis quite impossible in one or other
To walk and see not-man and bird are brother.
The owl can't see in daylight;-
Oh no he's blind and stupid-
A very fool-a blockhead plain to see!
But just step out and look at him at night,
When all the world is slumbering save he-
My word, you'll find him then as brisk as Cupid !
With open eyes, and beak that has the knack
To snap up mouse or rabbit by the back !
The owl in hollow oak-the man in den,
Chamber, or office, dusky and obscure,
Are creatures very heavy and demure;
But soon their turn comes round, and then,
Oh, what sharp claw and pitiless beak have they
To feather, fleece, and worry up their prey !
"A fellow-feeling makes us wondrous kind,"
So sang the noble bard, who, like the swallow,
Flew through far climes and soared where few can follow.
'Tis true; and therefore still we find


That gentle spirits love the robin,
That comes, as Wordsworth says, "when winds are
Pecks at your window; sits upon your spade,
And often thanks you in a serenade.
But what is it that brings about you
That pert, conceited, good-for-nothing Sparrow,
Which seems to say-" I'd do as well without you;"
Yet never for a second,
Night nor day,
Will be away,
Though hooted, shot at, nor once coaxed nor beckoned

In town or country-in the densest alley
Of monstrous London-in the loneliest valley-
On palace-roof-on cottage-thatch-


On church or chapel-farm or shop,
The Sparrow's still the bird on the house-top."
I think 'twas Solomon who said so,
And in the Bible having read so,
You find that his ubiquity
Extends far up into antiquity.
Yes, through all countries and all ages,
While other birds have sung in woods or cages,
This noisy, impudent, and fearless varlet,
Though neither noble, rich, nor clad in scarlet,
Would have the highest place without the asking.
Upon your roof the lazy imp is basking-
Chirping, scuffling, screaming, fighting,
Flying and fluttering up and down
From peep of day to evening brown.
You may be sleeping, sick, or writing,
And needing silence; there's the Sparrow
Just at your window-and enough to harrow
The soul of Job in its severest season.
There, as it seemeth, for no other reason
But to confound you;-he has got,
Up in the leaden gutter burning hot,
Every low scapegrace of the Sparrow clan,
Loons of all ages-grandsire, boy, and man,


Beldame and madame, noisy, pert, and bold;
All met to wrangle, raffle, rant, and scold.
Send out your man! shoot! blow to powder
The villanous company, that fiercer, louder,
Drive you distracted. There-bang goes the gun,
And all the little lads are on the run
To see the slaughter;-not a bird is slain;
There were some feathers flew-a leg was broke,
But all went off as if it were a joke-
In comes your man-and there they are again !

Of all the creatures that were ever set
Upon two legs, there's nothing to be met,
Save some congeners in our own sweet race,
Made of such matter, common, cocket, base,
As are these Sparrows Would that some magician,
Philosopher, or chemist, would but show us
What 'tis that constitutes the composition
Of certain men in town, who drive or row us,-
Cads, jarvies, porters of a low degree,
Haunters of theatre, tavern, and coach doors,-
Men all alert in dust and misery;
Men made to elbow, bustle, cheat, or steal,
Careless of scorn, incapable to feel


Indignity or shame-vulgar and vain,
Hunger and cold their only sense of pain!

Just of this class, amongst all feathered
Is this Jack Sparrow. He's no bird that sings;
He makes no grand pretences; has no fine
Airs of high breeding-he but wants to dine.
His dress is brown, his body stiff aud stout,
Coarse in his nature, made to prog about.
What are his delicate fancies ? Who e'er sees
The Sparrow in his sensibilities ?
There are the nightingales, all soul and song,
Moaning and warbling the green boughs among.
There are the larks that, on ethereal wing,
Sing to high Heaven as heavenly spirits sing.
There are the merle, the mavis, birds whose lays
Inspired the minstrel songs of other days.
There are the wandering tribes, the cuckoo sweet;
Swallows that singing on your chimneys meet,
Through spring and summer, and anon are flown
To lands and climes to sages yet unknown.
Those are your poets;-birds of genius-those
That have their nerves and feel refined woes.


But these Jack Sparrows; why, they love
far more
S- Than all this singing nonsense your barn-

They love your cherry-tree, your rows of

Your ripening corn crop, and to live at ease !
You find no Sparrow in the far-off woods-
No; he's not fond of hungry solitudes.
-' He better loves the meanest hamlet;-
S'. Aught's to be had, the Sparrow will be
Sturdy and bold, and wrangling for his
The tender linnet bathes her sides and wings

S, In running brooks and purest forest springs;
The Sparrow rolls and scuffles in the dust-
That is his washing, or his proper rust.

S. Before your carriage as you drive to town
To his base meal the Sparrow settles down;
He knows the safety-distance to an inch,

Up to that point he will not move or flinch;-


You think your horse will crush him-no such thing-

That coachman's whip might clip his fluttering wing,

Or take his head off in a twink; but he

Knows better still, and liveth blithe and free.


f. -" '

At home he plagues the martins with his noise-

They build, he takes possession and enjoys;

Or if he want it not, he takes it still,

Just because teasing others is his will.

From hour to hour, from tedious day to day,

He sits to drive the rightful one away.
At home, abroad, wherever seen or heard,

Still is the Sparrow just the self-same bird;


Thievish and clamorous, hardy, bold, and base,

Unlike all others of the feathered race;

The bully of his tribe-to all beyond,

The gipsy, beggar, knave, and vagabond !




THF H-rilaming-bird! the Humming-
8 f:iy-like and bright;
It liv,- amongstt the sunny flowers,
A creature of delight !

'li~ I;I r y. ~~
Ir~rdri~ i'
o 'i-i;l


I --


In the radiant islands of the East,
Where fragrant spices grow,
A thousand thousand Humming-birds
Go glancing to and fro.

Like living fires they flit about,
Scarce larger than a bee,
Amongst the broad palmetto leaves,
And through the fan-palm tree.

And in those wild and verdant woods
Where stately moras tower,
Where hangs from branching tree to tree
The scarlet passion-flower;

Where on the mighty river banks,
La Plate or Amazon,
The cayman, like an old tree trunk,
Lies basking in the sun;

There builds her nest the Humming-bird
Within the ancient wood,-
Her nest of silky cotton-down,-
And rears her tiny brood.


She hangs it to a slender twig,
Where waves it light and free,
As the campanero tolls his song,
And rocks the mighty tree.

All crimson is her shining breast,
Like to the red, red rose

Her wing is the changeful green and blue
That the neck of the peacock shows.
H I A?-

All crimson is lier shining breast,
Like to the red, red rose;
Her wing is thle changeful green and blue
That the neck of the peacock shows.


Thou happy, happy Humming-bird '
No winter round thee lowers;
Thou never saw'st a leafless tree,
Nor land without sweet flowers:

A reign of summer joyfulness
To thee for life is given;
Thy food the honey from the -! ... ,
Thy drink the dew from heaven:

How glad must Eve's young heart have been,
In Eden's glorious bowers,
To see the first, first Humming-bird
Amongst the first -p '' ,-II..--. -

Amongst the rainbow butterflies,
Before the rainbow shone;
One moment glancing in her sight,
Another moment gone !

Thou little shining creature,
God saved thee from the Flood,
With the eagle of the mountain-land,
And the tiger of the wood:


Who cared to save the elephant,

He also cared for thee;

And gave those broad lands for thy home

Where grows the cedar-tree !

.. ', -. .

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^ .'1'


S ,, .

'Ei E~ ''sri:]' *


I .


Where the breath of the simoom is hot in the air;
To the desert, where never a green blade grew,
Where never its shadow a broad tree threw,
Where sands rise up, and in columns are wheeled
By the winds of the desert, like hosts in the field;
Where the wild ass sends forth a lone, dissonant bray,
And the herds of the wild horse speed on through the day-
The creatures unbroken, with manes flying free,
Like the steeds of the whirlwind, if such there may be.
Yes, there in the desert, like armies for war,
The flocks of the Ostrich are seen from afar,
Speeding on, speeding on, o'er the desolate plain,
Whilst the fleet-mounted Arab pursueth in vain !
But 'tis joy to the traveller who toils through that land,
The egg of the Ostrich to find in the sand;
For the egg of an Ostrich sustaineth him wholly,
When weary with travel he journeyeth slowly
To the well of the desert, and finds it at last,
Seven days' journey from that he hath passed.

Or go to the Caffre-land,-what if you meet
A print, in the sand, of the strong lion's feet!
He is down in the thicket, asleep in his lair;
Come on to the desert, the Ostrich is there-


There, there where the zebras are i M.g in haste,
The herd of the Ostrich comes down o'er the waste-
Half-running, half-flying-what progress they make !
Twang the bow ; not the arrow their flight can o'ertake'

S- ,ong bird of the wild, thou art gone like the wind,
And thou leaves the cloud of thy speeding behind.
Fare thee well: in thy desolate region, farewell,-
With the ;t ,rt.. and lion we leave thee to dwell'

-O _E,. -
'..,".: ; ^ -i' .:..* ^

THE '-,IrIl-l-:L

A little blithe creature as ever can be;

He dwells in the boughs where the stock-dove

Far in the shades of the green summer woods;

His food is the young juicy cones of the pine,

And the'milky beech-nut is his bread and his




In the joy of his nature he frisks with a bound
To the topmost twigs, and then down to the ground;
Then up again like a winged thing,
And from tree to tree with a vaulting spring;
Then he sits up aloft, and looks waggish and queer,
As if he would say, "Ay, follow me here!"
And then he grows pettish, and stamps his foot;
And then independently cracks his nut;

/' i, r.


And thus he lives the long summer thorough,
Without a care or a thought of sorrow.

But small as he is, he knows he may want,
In the bleak winter weather, when food is scant:
So he finds a hole in an old tree's core,
And there makes his nest, and lays up his store;


Then when cold winter comes, and the trees are bare,
When the white snow is falling, and keen is the air,
He heeds it not, as he sits by himself
In his warm little nest, with his nuts on his shelf.
0 wise little squirrel! no wonder that he,
In the green summer woods, is as blithe as can be !


S There's a blithe sound of pastoral life everywhere
S And the gay lark is carolling up in the air.
I know in the wood where the columbine grows,
And the climbing clematis and pink apple-rose;
I know where the buglos grows blue as the sky,
And the deep crimson vetch like a wild vine runs high.


But I'll show you a sight you love better than these,-
A little field-stream overshadowed with trees,
Where the water is clear as a free mountain-rill,
And now it runs rippling, and now it is still;
Where the crowned butomus is gracefully growing,
Where the long purple spikes of the loose-strife are blowing,
And the rich, plumy crests of the meadow-sweet seem
Like foam which the current has left on the stream;
There I'll show you the brown Water-Rat at his play-
You will see nothing blither this blithe summer-day;
And the snowy-flowered arrow-head thick growing here:
Ah, pity it is man has taught him to fear !
But look at him now, how he sitteth afloat
On the broad water-lily leaf, as in a boat;
See the antics he plays I how he dives in the stream,
To and fro-now he chases that dancing suhbeam !
Now he stands for a moment, as if half perplexed
In his frolicsome heart to know what to do next.
Ha see now that dragon-fly sets him astir,
And he launches away like a brave mariner;
See there, up the stream how he merrily rows,
And the tall, fragrant calamus bows as he goes
And now he is lost at the foot of the tree;-
'Tis his home, and a snug little home it must be !


'Tis thus that the Water-Rat liveth all day,
In these small pleasures wearing the summer away.
And when cold winter comes, and the water-plants die,
And his little brook yields him no longer supply,
Down into his burrow he cosily creeps,
And quietly through the long winter-time sleeps.
Thus in summer his table by Nature is spread,
And old mother Earth makes in winter his bed.

-~... ._. :

7 V.

._-- --


FAR in the north, if thou sail with me,

A wonderful creature I'll show to thee,-

As gentle and mild as a lamb at play,

Skipping about in the month of May;

Yet wise as any old learned sage

Who sits turning over a musty page!


Come down to this lonely river's bank !
See, driven-in stake and riven plank;
A mighty work before thee stands
That would do no shame to human hands-
A well-built dam to stem the tide
Of this northern river so strong and wide;
Look the woven bough of many a tree,
And a wall of fairest masonry.
The waters cannot o'erpass this bound,
For a hundred keen eyes watch it round;
And the skill that raised can keep it good
Against the peril of storm and I1.....

And yonder the peaceable creatures dwell,
Secure in their watery citadel.
They know no sorrow, have done no sin;
Happy they live 'mongst kith and kin-
As happy as living things can be,
Each in the midst of his family !
Ay, there they live, and the hunter wild,
Seeing their social natures mild,
Seeing how they are kind and good,
Hath felt his stubborn soul subdued;


And the very sight of the young at play
Hath put his hunter's heart away;
And a mood of pity hath o'er him crept,
As he thought of his own dear babes, and wept.

I know ye are but the Beavers small,
Living at peace in your own mud-wall:

I know that ye have no books to teach
The lore that lies within your reach.
I know that thousands of years ago
Ye knew as much as now ye know;
And on the banks of streams that sprung
Forth when the earth itself was young,


Your wondrous works were formed as true;
For the All-Wise instructed you

But man! how hath he pondered on,
Through the long term of ages gone;
And many a cunming book hath writ
Of learning deep and subtle wit;
Hath compassed sea, hath compassed land,
Hath built up towers and temples grand,
Hath travelled far for hidden lore,
And learned what was not known of yore;-
Yet after all, though wise he ee,
He hath no better skill than ye

t .2r *- &

^ ,.,'., ^ ; -.-


P1:1U's ',F IA.

A t I l

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SS .' E


Who has for us sent ? "
It is thus unto God that they make their

"We leave them with sadness,
These rocks by the main;
There dwelt we in gladness,
There never knew pain.
'Midst the blossoming trees there
We builded our nest;
By the wing of the breeze there
Were rocked into rest;
Now, now we must follow an unknown behest!

"The leafy wood bowered o'er
The home of the dove;
The dew-drops were showered o'er
The moss-rose for love.
Now green leaves are searing,
Now roses have blown,
And soft winds' careering
To tempest hath grown,
And with white hoar-frost flowers, the meadows
are strewn.

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