See her, when rude the north-wind blows,

Warm in some rocky cell remain ;

To seek for pleasure, well she knows,
Would only then enhance the pain.

Descend," she cries, "thou hated shower, Deform my crystal waves to-day,

For I have chose a fairer hour

To take my fill of joy and play."

TO A HEDGE-SPARROW.

LITTLE flutterer! swiftly flying,

There is none to harm thee near;

Kite, nor hawk, nor school-boy prying;
Little flutterer! cease to fear.

One who would protect thee ever,

From the school-boy, kite, and hawk, Musing, now obtrudes, but never

Dreamt of plunder in his walk.

G

He no weasel stealing slyly,
Would permit thy eggs to take;
Not the pole-cat, nor the wily
Adder, nor the writhed snake.

May no cuckoo, wandering near thee,
Lay her egg within thy nest;
Nor thy young ones, born to cheer thee,
Be destroy'd by such a guest.

Little flutterer! swiftly flying,

Here is none to harm thee near ; Kite, nor hawk, nor school-boy prying, Little flutterer! cease to fear.

SOOTHED by the murmurs on the sea-beat shore,
His dun-grey plumage floating to the gale,
The Curlew blends his melancholy wail
With those hoarse sounds the rushing waters pour;
Like thee, congenial bird! my steps explore

The bleak, lone sea-beach, or the rocky dale, And shun the orange bower, the myrtle vale, Whose gay luxuriance suits my soul no more.

I love the ocean's broad expanse, when drest

In limpid clearness, or when tempests blow; When the smooth currents on its placid breast

Flow calm as my past moments used to flow; Or when its troubled waves refuse to rest, And seem the symbol of my present woe.

THE PEACOCK.

Albin.

HARK, yon harsh, discordant cry,
Frighting much the murmuring eve,
Can we joy from it receive?
Quickly let us pass it by:

Uninviting doth it seem;

Listening, who would ever deem

That such beauty him was nigh?

Let us pause-thou stately bird,
Why was song to thee denied
(Lesson unto useless pride),

And on humbler throats conferr'd?

None would ever heed thy call
Utter'd only to appal;

Such a scream was never heard.

See, outspread thy glories shine,
Burnish'd by the setting sun,
Glad, before his race is run,

To witness splendour such as thine :-
Ah, why thus doth Folly spurn
Wisdom's call, and from it turn,
Knowing not 'tis Beauty's mine?

How to Vice doth Virtue's voice
Seem unable to declare

All the charms which are her share,

Full of discord seems her choice;

But, approach'd, how to the heart She doth happiness impart, And, taking hands with joy, rejoice.

As on that bird yon glorious orb
Sheds in peace his parting rays,
So in Virtue's latter days
Doth she all esteem absorb :

'Neath the Sun of Righteousness,

Which alone hath power to bless, Doth her call no more disturb.