From scythe and plough secure,
This bank their cradle and their tomb,

While earth and skies endure !

MONTGOMERY.

Linnæus, in his Species Plantarum, considered the Primrose, Primula vulgaris, and the Oxlip, P. elatior, only as varieties of the Cowslip, P. veris. Modern experiments have proved that such is truly the case. The Hon. Mr. Herbert remarks, "I raised, from the natural seed of one umbel of a highlymanured red cowslip, a primrose, a cowslip, oxlips of the usual and other colours, a black polyanthus, a hose-in-hose cowslip, and a natural primrose bearing its flower on a polyanthus stalk. I therefore consider all these to be only local varieties, depending upon soil and situation."-Hort. Trans. vol. 4, p. 19. Prof. Henslow has also repeated the experiment, and obtained a similar result; and hence, in his useful Catalogue of British Plants, has very properly restored them to their ancient situation under the Primula veris. See Mag. of Nat. Hist., vol. 3, p. 406-409.

MORNING SONG TO THE SHEPHERD.

WAKEN, drowsy slumberer, waken!
Over gorse, green broom, and braken,
From her sieve of silken blue,
Dawning sifts her silver dew,
Hangs the emerald on the willow,
Lights her lamp below the billow,
Bends the brier and branchy braken-
Waken, drowsy slumberer, waken!

Round and round, from glen and grove,
Pour a thousand hymns of love;
Harps the rail amid the clover
O'er the moor-fern whews the plover,
Bat has hid and heath-cock crow'd,
Courser neigh'd and cattle low'd,
Kid and lamb the lair forsaken-
Waken, drowsy slumberer, waken!

HOGG.

TOUCH not the little Sparrow, who doth build
His home so near us. He doth follow us
From spot to spot amidst the turbulent town,
And ne'er deserts us. To all other birds
The woods suffice, the rivers, the sweet fields,
And nature in her aspect mute and fair;
But he doth herd with man. Blithe servant! live,
Feed, and grow cheerful! On my window's ledge
I'll leave thee every morning some fit food,
In payment of thy service.-Doth he serve! -
Ay, serves and teaches. His familiar voice,
His look of love, his sure fidelity,

Bids us be gentle with so small a friend;
And much we learn from acts of gentleness.
Doth he not teach ?-Ay, and doth serve us too,
Who clears our homes from many a toilsome thing,
Insect or reptile! and when we do mark

With what nice care he builds his nest, and guards
His offspring from all harm, and how he goes,
A persevering, bold adventurer,

'Midst hostile tribes, twenty times big as he,

From scythe and
This bank their cra
While earth and

Linnæus, in his Species Plantarum, e garis, and the Oxlip, P. elatior, only as Modern experiments have proved that Herbert remarks, "I raised, from the n manured red cowslip, a primrose, a cov colours, a black polyanthus, a hose-in-bo bearing its flower on a polyanthus stalk. only local varieties, depending upon soil an 19. Prof. Henslow has also repeated the result; and hence, in his useful Catalogus restored them to their ancient situation un.. Nat. Hist., vol. 3, p. 406–409.

MORNING SONG TO T

WAKEN, drowsy slum
Over gorse, green broo
From her sieve of silke
Dawning sifts her silve.
Hangs the emerald on:
Lights her lamp below t
Bends the brier and bra
Waken, drowsy slumber

Round and round, from
Pour a thousand hymns
Harps the rail amid the
O'er the moor-fern whew
Bat has hid and heath-co
Courser neigh'd and catt
Kid and lamb the lair for
Waken, drowsy slumbere

THE WATER-OUZEL.

THE Bird

Is here, the solitary bird that makes

The rock his sole companion. Leafy vale,
Green bower, and hedge-row fair, and garden rich
With bud and bloom, delight him not ;-he bends
No spray, nor roams the wilderness of boughs,
Where love and song detain a million wings,
Through all the Summer morn-the Summer eve ;-
He has no fellowship with waving woods,-
He joins not in their merry minstrelsy,-

But flits from ledge to ledge, and through the day
Sings to the highland waterfall-that speaks

To him in strains he loves and lists

For ever.

N. T. CARRINGTON.

Water-Ouzel, or Dipper, Cinclus aquaticus, frequents the sides of rocky 1-streams; it commences its song as early as January and February; says Mr. Polwhele, "has a great resemblance to the sound of water among pebbles,"

The cheerful bird that loves the stream,
And the stream's voice, and answers, in like strains

Murmuring deliciously.

umberland this retired bird is known by the name of the Bessy

But

Feed, and
I'll leave

Ay, serves

His book of

Bids be p
And much wer
Doth be t

Who clean
Insect or relev
With what sine

His offspring ton

A persevering W

THE WAY-FARING TREE.

WAY-FARING Tree! what ancient claim
Hast thou to that right pleasant name?
Was it that some faint pilgrim came

Unhopedly to thee,

In the brown desert's weary way,
'Mid toil and thirst's consuming sway,
And there, as 'neath thy shade he lay,

Bless'd the Way-faring Tree?

Skill, perseverance, courage, parent's love,—
In all these acts we see, and may do well
In our own lives, perhaps, when need doth ask,
To imitate the little household bird.

Untiring follower! what doth chain thee here!
What bonds 'tween thee and man! Thy food the same
As their's who wing the woods,-thy voice as wild,
Thy wants, thy power, the same; we nothing do
To serve thee, and few love thee; yet thou hang'st
About our dwellings, like some humble friend,
Whom custom and kind thoughts do link to us,
And no neglect can banish.

So, long live

The household Sparrow! may he thrive for ever!
For ever twitter forth his morning song,

A brief, but sweet domestic melody!

Long may he live! and he who aims to kill

Our small companion, let him think how he

Would feel, if great men spurn'd him from their hearths,
Or tyrant doom'd him, who had done no wrong,

To pains or sudden death. Then let him think,

And he will spare this little trustful bird;
And his one act of clemency will teach
His heart a lesson that shall widen it,

For nothing makes so bright the soul, as when
Pity doth temper wisdom.

B. CORNWALL.

"We have scarcely another bird, the appetite of which is so accommodating in all respects as that of the House-Sparrow. It is, I believe the only bird that is a voluntary inhabitant with man, lives in his society, and is his constant attendant, following him wherever he fixes his residence. It becomes immediately an inhabitant of the new farm-house, in a lonely place, or recent inclosure, or even in an island; will accompany him in the crowded city, and build and feed there in content, unmindful of noise, the smoke of the furnace, or the steam-engine, where even the swallow and the martin, that flock around him in the country, are scared by the tumult, and leave him: but the sparrow, though begrimed with soot, does not forsake him; feeds on his food, rice, potatoes, and almost any other extraneous substance he may find in the street; looks to him for his support, and is maintained almost entirely by the industry and providence of man. It is not known in a solitary and independent state." -Journal of a Naturalist.