WHERE sacred Ganges pours along the plain,
And Indus rolls to swell the eastern main,
What awful scenes the curious mind delight,
What wonders burst upon the dazzled sight!
There giant palms lift high their tufted heads,
The plantain wide his graceful foliage spreads,
Wild in the woods the active monkey springs,
The chattering parrot claps his painted wings;
'Mid tall bamboos lies hid the deadly snake,
The tiger couches in the tangled brake;
The spotted axis bounds in fear away,
The leopard darts on his defenceless prey.
'Mid reedy pools and ancient forests rude,
Cool peaceful haunts of awful solitude!
The huge rhinoceros rends the crashing boughs,
And stately elephants untroubled browse.
Two tyrant seasons rule the wide domain,
Scorch with dry heat, or drench with floods of rain :
Now, feverish herds rush madding o'er the plains,
And cool in shady streams their throbbing veins;
The birds drop lifeless from the silent spray,
And nature faints beneath the fiery day;
Then bursts the deluge on the sinking shore,
And teeming plenty empties all her store.
TO THE BLACKBIRD.
IN THE MORNING.1
GOLDEN Bill! Golden Bill !
Lo! the peep of day ;
'The Blackbird's is the earliest note heard in the morning. In the evening he takes his part with his minstrel brethren, chiming in at intervals.
All the air is cool and still,
From the elm-tree on the hill
While the moon drops down the west,
And the stars before the sun
Melt, like snow-flakes, one by one,
Ere the lark has left his nest,
Let thy loud and welcome lay
Pour along
Few notes, but strong.
Jet-bright wing! Jet-bright wing!
Flit across the sunset glade,
Lying there in wait to sing;
Listen, with thine head awry,
Keeping time with twinkling eye,
While from all the woodland shade,
Birds of every plume and note
Strain the throat,
Till both hill and valley ring;
And the warbled minstrelsy
Ebbing, flowing, like the sea,
Claims brief interludes from thee;
Then, with simple swell and fall,
Breaking beautiful through all,
Let thy pure, clear pipe repeat
Few notes, but sweet.
THE PEARL.
A LITTLE particle of rain,
That from a passing cloud descended,
Was heard thus idly to complain :—
"My brief existence now is ended;
Outcast alike of earth and sky,
Useless to live, unknown to die.”
It chanced to fall into the sea
And there an open shell received it;-
And, after years, how rich was he
Who from its prison-house relieved it!
That drop of rain had formed a gem,
Fit for a monarch's diadem.
PRITHEE,1 little buzzing fly,
Eddying round my taper, why
Is it that its quivering light,
Dazzling, captivates your sight?
Bright my taper is, 'tis true,
Trust me, 'tis too bright for you;
'Tis a flame-vain thing, beware!
'Tis a flame you cannot bear.
Touch it, and 'tis instant fate;
Take my counsel ere too late:
Buzz no longer round and round,
Settle on the wall or ground:
Sleep till morn; at daybreak rise;
Danger then you may despise,
Enjoying in the sunny air
The life your caution now may spare.
1 Prithee-I pray thee.
Lo! my counsel nought avails;
Round and round and round it sails,
Sails with idle unconcern—
Prithee, trifler, canst thou burn?
Madly heedless as thou art,
Know thy danger, and depart :
Why persist ?—I plead in vain,
Singed it falls and writhes in pain.
Is not this-deny who can—
Is not this a type of man?
Like the fly, he rashly tries
Pleasure's burning sphere, and dies.
Vain the friendly caution, still
He rebels, alas! and will.
What I sing let all apply;
Flies are weak, and man's a fly.
THE SWALLOW AND RED-BREAST.
THE swallows, at the close of day,
When autumn shone with fainter ray,
Around the chimney circling flew,
Ere yet they bade a long adieu
To climes, where soon the winter drear
Should close the unrejoicing year.
Now with swift wing they skim aloof,
Now settle on the crowded roof,
As counsel and advice to take,
Ere they the chilly north forsake ;-
Then one, disdainful, turned his eye
Upon a red-breast twittering nigh,
And thus began with taunting scorn:
"Thou household imp, obscure, forlorn,
Through the deep winter's dreary day,
Here, dull and shivering, shalt thou stay,
Whilst we, who make the world our home,
To softer climes impatient roam,
Where summer still on some green isle
Rests, with her sweet and lovely smile.
Thus, speeding far and far away,
We leave behind the shortening day."
""Tis true," the red-breast answered meek,
"No other scenes I ask, or seek;
To every change alike resigned,
I fear not the cold winter's wind.
When spring returns, the circling year
Shall find me still contented here;
But whilst my warm affections rest
Within the circle of my nest,
I learn to pity those that roam,
And love the more my humble home."
"MY FATHER'S AT THE HELM.”
THE curling waves, with awful roar,
A little boat assailed;
And pallid fear's distracting power
O'er all on board prevailed—
Save one, the captain's darling child,
Who steadfast viewed the storm;
And cheerful, with composure, smiled
At danger's threatening form.
|