JENNINGS.

THE WOODLARK'S INVOCATION.

ODDESS of the realm of song!
Round whose throne the warblers throng,
From thy bright cerulean sphere,

Deign our humble notes to hear!

Love demands our earliest lay ;-
Love, the monarch of our May ;-
Io pæans let us sing

While we welcome laughing spring.

May, with feet bedropp'd with dew,
On yon hill-top is in view;

May, whose arch look, winning wiles,

Youth on tip-toe oft beguiles.

Goddess of the soul of song!

Thou to whom delights belong,
Deign to prompt the Warbler's lay;
Deign to deck the coming day.

MONTGOMERY.

HY notes are silenced, and thy plumage mew'd;
Say, drooping minstrel, both shall be renew'd.
-Voice will return,-I cannot choose but
sing;

Yet liberty alone can plume my wing;

Oh! give me that !-I will not, cannot fly
Within a cage less ample than the sky;
Then shalt thou hear, as if an angel sung,

Unseen in air, heaven's music from my tongue :
Oh! give me that!—I cannot rest at ease
On meaner perches than the forest trees;
There, in thy walk, while evening shadows roll,
My song shall melt into thine inmost soul;
But, till thou let thy captive bird depart,

The sweetness of my strain shall wring thy heart.