abode, forming, in appearance, a sort of convocation of aerial ecclesiastics. A young gentleman, who lodged in an attic, and was their close neighbor, frequently entertained himself with thinning this covey of black game, by means of a crossbow. On the opposite side lived a curious old civilian, who observing from his study that the rooks often dropped senseless from their perch, or, as it may be said, without using a figure, hopp'd the twig making no sign, nor any sign being made to his vision to account for the phenomenon, set his wits to work to discover the cause. It was probably during a profitless time of peace, and the doctor having plenty of leisure, weighed the matter over and over, till he was at length fully satisfied that he had made a great ornithological discovery, that its promulgation would give wings to his fame, and that he was fated by means of these rooks to say —

'Volito vivus per ora virum.'

His goose-quill and foolscap were quickly in requisition, and he actually wrote a treatise, stating circumstantially what he himself had seen, and in conclusion, giving it as the settled conviction of his mind, that rooks were subject to the falling sickness!'

F

BIRDS.

YE birds that fly through the fields of air,
What lessons of wisdom and truth ye bear;
Ye would teach our souls from the earth to rise,
Ye would bid us its groveling scenes despise.
Ye would tell us that all its pursuits are vain,
That pleasure is toil ambition is pain,
That its bliss is touched with a poisoning leaven,
Ye would teach us to fix our aim on heaven.

Beautiful birds of the azure wing,

Bright creatures that come with the voice of Spring;
We see you arrayed in the hues of the morn,
Yet ye dream not of pride, and ye wist not of scorn!
Though rainbow splendor around you glows,
Ye vaunt not the beauty which nature bestows:
Oh what a lesson for glory are ye,

How ye preach of the grace of humility.

Swift birds that skim o'er the stormy deep,
Who steadily onward your journey keep,
Who neither for rest nor slumber stay,
But press still forward, by night or day,
And in your unwearying course yet fly
Beneath the clear and unclouded sky;
Oh! may we, without delay, like you,
The path of duty and right pursue.

Sweet birds that breathe the spirit of song,

And surround Heaven's gate in melodious throng,
Who rise with the earliest beams of day,
Your morning tribute of thanks to pay,
You remind us that we alike should raise
The voice of devotion and song of praise;
There's something about you that points on high,
Ye beautiful tenants of earth and sky.

TO THE FRINGED GENTIAN.

THOU blossom bright with autumn dew,
And colored with the heaven's own blue,
That openest when the quiet light

Succeeds the keen and frosty night.

Thou comest not when violets lean

O'er wandering brooks and springs unseen,

Or columbines in purple drest,

Nod o'er the ground bird's hidden nest.

Thou waitest late and com'st alone,

When woods are bare, and birds are flown, And frosts and shortening days portend

The aged year is near its end,

Then doth thy sweet and quiet eye
Look through its fringes to the sky,
Blue-blue —as if that sky let fall
A flower from its cerulean wall.

I would that thus, when I shall see
The hour of death draw near to me,
Hope, blossoming within my heart,
May look to heaven as I depart.

THE MERMAID'S SONG.

COME, mariner, down in the deep with me,
And hide thee under the wave;
For I have a bed of coral for thee,
And quiet and sound shall thy slumber be
In a cell in the mermaid's cave!

On a pillow of pearls thine eye shall sleep,
And nothing disturbs thee there.

The fishes their silent vigils shall keep;
There shall be no grass thy grave to sweep
But the silk of the mermaid's hair.

And she, who is waiting with cheeks so pale,
As the tempest and ocean roar,

And weeps when she hears the menacing gale, Or sighs to behold her mariner's sail

Come whitening up to the shore.

She has not long to linger for thee!

Her sorrows will soon be o'er;

For the cord shall be broken, the prisoner free;
Her eye shall close, and her dreams shall be
So sweet, she will wake no more!

wwwwww.

CONCERNING THE OBSERVATION OF THE LORD'S-DAY.

SIX days the God of heaven hath allowed us for our ordinary actions; and he is no hard master that reserves but a seventh, as a tribute of the time he lends us; especially considering this day he reserves, he reserves it for our advantage more than for his own.

For it is a certain truth, that we never spend any time with better husbandry, and more advantage to ourselves, than that time we spend in the service of God, and to his honor, and according to his will; and that man is very illnatured that thinks it too much to consecrate one day of seven to the special service and honor of him, that doth not only lend him the seventh to live, but the other six to his ordinary use and employments. I will acquaint you with a truth, that above forty years' experience and strict observation of myself hath assuredly taught me. I have been near fifty years a man as much conversant in business, and that of moment and importance as most men, and I will assure