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THE STORMY PETREL.

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there will be little consolation in reflecting, that we have brought it upon ourselves.

7. The song of birds is not much better known than their babits and persons. How many have ever seen the crimson linnet, as he sits playing the flute on the věry summit of the lờitiest tree, sometimes diminishing his strain almost to silence, then pcuring it out in bursts of rapture? It is common to say that beauty of plumage and sweetness of song are not found togěther. It may be true that they are seldom united in the highest perfection; but every child knows, that the clear piping of the baltimore and the varied whistle of the goldfinch are as pleasant to the ear as their fine colors are to the eye; and the brilliant red-bird, which sometimes visits New England, is not more distinguished for the bright scarlet' of his dress than for the sweet and bold expression of his song.

8. There is so much that inspires curiosity about the various tribes of birds, that it is difficult to account for this contented ignorance of their ways, in which so many spend their lives. When the snows retreat to the mountains, the friendly voice of the robin, telling us that he is glad to see us again, has a wag ical effect upon every one; it calls the heart and memory into action, and reminds us of all we love to remember. Here he is again, but he can not tell us where he has been; what regions he has traversed, nor what invisible hand pointed out his path in the sky. If this inqui'ry in'terest us, we begin to look about us in the closing year; we see that, when the leaf

grows

red, the birds are disappearing,—some assembling in solemn deliberation, to make arrangements for the purpose; others taking French leave, as it is unfitly called, without ceremonv or farewell.

N. A. REVIEW.

1. THIS

30. THE STORMY PETREL.
1. MAIS is the bird that sweeps o'er the sea

Fearless, and rapid, and strong is he;
He never forsakes the billowy roar

To dwell in calm on the tranquil shore, Scår'let, bright red. – Måģ'ical, mysterious ; performed by something beyond nature.-- In vis'i ble, unseen.- De lib er å'tion, thought; consideration.-- Tranquil (trånk' wil), quiet; calm ; peaceful.

Save when his mate from the tempest's shocks

Protects her young in the splinter'd rocks.
2. Birds of the sea, they rejoice in storms;

On the top of the wave you may see their forms
They run and dive, and they whirl and fly,
Where the glittering foam-spray breaks on high;
And against the force of the strongest gale,

Like phantom' ships, they soar and sail.
3. All over the ocean, far from land,

When the storm-king rises, dark and grand,
The măriner: sees the petrel meet
The fathomless waves with steady feet,
And a tireless wing and a dauntless breast,

Without a home or a hope of rest.
4. So, mid the contest and toil of life,

My soul, when the billows of rage and strife
Are tossing high, and the heavenly blue
Is shrouded by vapors of somber hue-
Like the petrel, wheeling o'er foam and spray,
Onward and upward pursue thy way!

PARK BENJAMIN.

31. THE FALCON.

THE

1. MHE falcon' is a noble bird,

And when his heart of hearts is stirr'd,
He'll seek the eagle, though he run
Into his chămber near the sun.
Never was there brute or bird,
Whom the woods or mountains heard,
That could force a fear or care
From him, the Ar'ab of the air !

Against (a gênst'). - Phån' tom, apparition ; a fancied vision.*M&r' i ner, seaman ; sailor. — * Fåth' om less that can not be fath omed, or sounded.-- Falcon (få' kn).

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2. To-day he sits upon a wrist,

Whose purple veins a queen has kiss'd,
And on him falls a sterner eye
Than he could face where'er he fly,
Though he scale the summit cold
Of the Grimsel," vast and old-
Though he search yon sunless stream,

That threads the forest like a dream
3. Ah! noble soldier! noble bird !
Will

your names be ever heard
Ever seen in future story,
Crowning it with deathless glory?
Peace, ho! the master's eye is drawn
Away unto the bursting dawn!
Arise, thou bird of birds, arise,
And seek thy quarry: in the skies !

PROCTER

32. THE SKYLARK.
1. IRD of the

Blithesome and cumberless,
Sweet be thy matinø o'er moorland and lea!'

Emblem of happiness,

Blest is thy dwelling-place-
Oh, to abide in the desert with thee!
2. Wild is thy lay, and loud,

Far in the downy cloud,
Love gives it energy, love gave it birth.

Where on thy dewy wing,

Where art thou journeying?
Thy lay is in heaven, thy love is on earth.

"Gilm'sel, a mountain of Switzerland, 7126 feet above the sea.'Mås'ter._*Quarry (kwór' ry), here means game flown at by a hawk.• Blithesome (bllfh' sum), joyous ; cheerful. - Cům' ber less, without care, trouble, or anxiety.– Måt'in, a morning song.-Léa, a meadow or pasture; an extensive plain.- Em' blem, mark ; sign ; representation.– En' er gy, strength ; ability to act.

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3. O'er fell' and fountain sheen,

O'er moor and mountain green,
O’er the red streamer that heralds' the day,

Over the cloudlet dim,

Over the rainbow's rim,
Musical cherub, soar singing away!
1. Then, when the gloaming' comes,

Low in the heathers blooms
weet will thy welcome and bed of love be!

Emblem of happiness,

Blest is thy dwelling-place-
Oh, to abide in the desert with thee!

Hoga.

33. A MORNING CONVERSATION. Mrs. Bolingbroke. I wish I knew what was the matter with me this morning. Why do you keep the newspaper all to yourself, my dear?

Mr. Bolingbroke. Here it is for you, my dear; I have finished it.

Mrs. B. I humbly thank you for giving it to me when you have done with it,I hate stale news. Is there any thing in the paper ? for I can not be at the trouble of hunting it.

Mr. B. Yes, my dear; there are the marriages of two of our friends.

Mrs. B. Who? who?

Mr. B. Your friend, the widow Nettleby, to her cousin, John Nettleby.

Mrs. B. Mrs. Nettleby! Lord! But why did you tell me? Mr. B. Because you asked me, my dear.

Mrs. B. Oh, but it is a hundred times pleasanter to read the paragraph one's self. One loses all the pléasure of the surprise by being told. Well, whose was the other marriage ?

· Féll, a barren or stony hill.— * Shéen, light; brightness.— Hér'. alds, proclaims ; announces. — Gldam' ing, twilight.- Heath' er, small shrubs.-Ståle, old ; not new.

A MORNING CONVERSATION.

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ever was.

you

Mr. B. Oh, my dear, I will not tell you; I will leave you the pleasure of the surprise.

Mrs. B. But you see I can not find it. How provoking you are, my dear! Do pray tell it me.

Mr. B. Our friend Mr. Granby.
Mrs. B. Mr. Granby! Dear! Why did not you

make me guess ? I should have guessed him directly. But why do you call him our friend? I am sure he is no friend of mine, nor

I took an aversion' to him, as you may remember, the

very first day I saw him. I am sure he is no friend of mine. Mr. B. I am sõrry for it, my dear; but I hope you will go and see Mrs. Granby.

Mrs. B. Not I, indeed, my dear. Who was she?
Mr. B. Miss Cooke.

Mrs. B. Cooke! But there are so many Cookes—can't distinguish her any way? Has she no Christian name?

Mr. B. Emma, I think-Yes, Emma.

Mrs. B. Emma Cooke! No; it can not be my friend Emma Cooke; for I am sure she was cut out for an old maid.

Mr. B. This lady seems to me to be cut out for a good wife.

Mrs. B. May be so—I am sure I'll never go to see her. Pray, my dear, how came you to see so much of her?

Mr. B. I have seen věry little of her, my dear. I only saw her two or three times before she was married.

Mrs. B. Then, my dear, how could you decide that she was cut out for a good wife? I am sure you could not judge of her by seeing her only two or three times, and before she was married.

Mr. B. Indeed, my love, that is a very just observation.

Mrs. B. I understand that compliment perfectly, and thank you for it, my dear. Laust own I can bear any thing better than irony.

Mr. B. Irony! my dear, I was perfectly in earnest.
Mrs. B. Yes, yes; in earnest—so I perceive-I may nati-

"A ver sion, dislike. -- I' ron y, a kind of ridicule, in which we seemingly adopt or approve what we really reject or condemn ; sarcastic praise.

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