Poor purblind man! then set thee still;
Let wonderment thy temples fill:
Keep a due distance: do not pry

Too near, lest, like a silly fly,

While she the wanton with the flame doth play.
First fries her wings, then fools her life away.
James Howell, 1664.

DEVOTIONAL MELODY.

How pleasant is the opening year !
The clouds of winter melt away;
The flowers in beauty reappear;

The songster carols from the spray;
Lengthens the more refulgent day;
And bluer grows the arching sky;
All things around us seem to say,
Christian, direct thy thoughts on high.
In darkness, through the dreary length

Of winter, slept both bud and bloom;
But Nature now puts forth her strength,
And starts, renewed, as from the tomb ;
Behold an emblem of thy doom,

O man! a star hath shone to save-
And morning yet shall re-illume

The midnight darkness of the grave!

Yet ponder well, how there shall break
The dawn of second life on thee-
Shalt thou to hope, to bliss awake?
Or vainly strive God's wrath to flee?
Then shalt pass forth the dread decree

That makes or weal or woe thine own;

Up and to work! Eternity

Must reap the harvest Time has sown.

A Blackwood.

Ꭰ

THE VALENTINE WREATH.

Rosy-red the hills appear
With the light of morning,
Beauteous clouds, in ether clear,
All the East adorning ;

White through mist the meadows shine;
Wake, my love, my Valentine!

For thy locks of raven-hue,

Flowers with hoar-frost pearly,
Crocus-cups of gold and blue,
Snowdrops drooping early,
With mezereon-sprigs combine:
Rise, my love, my Valentine!

O'er the margin of the flood,
Pluck the daisy peeping;
Through the dry leaves in the wood,
Hunt the sorrel creeping;

With the little celandine,

Crown, my love, my Valentine!

Pansies, on their lowly stems,

Scattered o'er the fallows;
Hazel-buds with crimson gems,
Green and glossy sallows,
Tufted moss and ivy-twine,
Deck, my love, my Valentine!

Few and simple flow'rets these ;
Yet, to me, less glorious
Garden-beds and orchard-trees!

Since this wreath victorious
Binds thee now for ever mine,
O, my love, my Valentine!

MONTGOMERY.

THE VILLAGE-BOY.

FREE from the cottage corner, see how wild
The village-boy along the pasture hies,
With every smell, and sound, and sight beguil'd,
That round the prospect meets his wondering eyes;
Now, stooping, eager for the cowslip peeps,

As though he'd get them all,-now, tired of these,
Across the flaggy brook he eager leaps

For some new flower his happy rapture sees,— Now, leering 'mid the bushes on his knees

On woodland banks, for blue-bell flowers he creeps,And now, while looking up among the trees,

And

He spies a nest, and down he throws his flowers,
he climbs with new-fed ecstacies;
The happiest object in the Summer hours.

up

CLARE.

THE GLOW-WORM.

GEM of the lone and silent vale,
Treasure of evening's pensive hour!

I come thy fairy rays to hail,

I come a votive strain to pour.

Nor chilly damps, nor paths untrod,

Shall from thy shrine my footsteps fright;

Thy lamp shall guide me o'er the sod,

And cheer the gathering mists of night.

Again the yellow fire impart ;

Lo! planets shed a mimic day;

Lo! vivid meteors round me dart;

On western clouds red lightnings play!

But I disdain these garish fires,
Sporting on evening's sultry wing;
Thy humble light my eye admires,
Thy soft retiring charms I sing.

Thine is an unobtrusive blaze,

Content in lowly shades to shine;
And much I wish, while thus I gaze,
To make thy modest merit mine.

For, long by youth's wild wishes cast
On the false world's tempestuous sea,
I seek retirement's shore at last,

And find a monitor in thee.

MRS. OPIE.

The Glow-worm, Lampyris Noctiluca, cannot be viewed but with delight and admiration. Upon examination it will be found to resemble a caterpillar, though somewhat depressed; however, it is not the larva of an insect, but the perfect female of a beetle: it is destitute of wings and elytra, appendages with which the male fly is furnished. Its light, which is of a beautiful sulphur colour, (though our poets have described it as emerald, topaz, blue, &c.) proceeds from the last three segments of the body. It is phosphorescent, and so strong that it may be seen through several folds of paper, in which it may be wrapped. So brilliant indeed is this little diamond of the night, that by its light the smallest print may be read without much difficulty, and the time also seen by a watch. In the neighbourhood where these curious insects abound, they are collected by children,

And put in flowers that nature weaves
With hollow shapes and silken leaves,
Such as the Canterbury-bell,

Serving for lamp and lantern well.

The Glow-worm also has the wonderful property of absorbing its light, and giving it out at pleasure;—an admirable provision to guard it from nocturnal birds and insects; or

Perhaps indulgent Nature meant

By such a lamp bestow'd,
To bid the traveller as he went,

Be careful where he trod.

Gilbert White observed that this little creature puts out its lamp between eleven and twelve o'clock, and shines no more for the rest of the night. No wonder then that this insect, which chiefly exhibits itself on occasions so interesting, and whose economy is so wonderful, should have afforded exquisite images and illustrations to so many of our poets.

THE MENAI BRIDGE.

FAIREST of rocky England's channel gates!
With what a blessed calm to the main ocean,
The ebbing-tide with silent under-motion
Upward is drawn along thy weedy straits!
The glossy water, shot with blue and green,
Throws off the sunlight, like the restless throat
Of some vain dove, and ships methinks might float,
Trusting the deep, in places so serene.

Thus wreathed in folds of summer billow, who
Would deem old tales of wreck and tempest true,
Where yon vast marvel, like an albatross
Still springing upward, as it seems, in air,
Spreads in light grandeur his huge wings across,
Self-poised in momentary balance there?

F. W. FABER, M. A.

THE REDBREAST.

SWEET Social bird with breast of red,
How prone's my heart to favour thee!
Thy look oblique, thy prying head,
Thy gentle affability:

Thy cheerful song in Winter's cold,
And, when no other lay is heard,
Thy visits paid to young and old,
Where fear appals each other bird.

Thy friendly heart, thy nature mild,
Thy meekness and docility,
Creep to the love of man and child,
And win thine own felicity.