The robin warbled forth his full clear note Bird of the broad and sweeping wing, Thy home is high in heaven, W. C. BRYANT. Where wide the storms their banners fling, Ofttimes, tho' seldom seen, J. G. PERCIVAL The cuckoo, that in summer haunts our groves, CARLOS WILCOX. The merry mocking-bird together links, CARLOS WILCOX. Along the surface of the winding stream, The robin to the garden or green yard, CARLOS WILCOX. CARLOS WILCOX. And in mid air the sportive night-hawk, seen A cheerful cry, attended with a shake CARLOS WILCOX. 90 BIRDS. The whippoorwill, her name her only song. CARLOS WILCOX The yellowhammer by the wayside picks CARLOS WILCOX The flippant blackbird, with light yellow crown, Or some tall flag, and, gently rocking, sits, In friendship as faithful, as constant in love. A free, wild spirit unto thee is given, BISHOP DOAne. Bright minstrel of the blue celestial dome! And bathe thy plumage in the sunbeam's home; Hark! how with love and flutt'ring start The skylark soars above, And with her full, melodious heart, Here smokes his forge; he bares his sinewy arm, Oft did the harvest to the sickle yield, GAY's Trivia. Their harrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke; How jocund did they drive their team a-field, How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke! GRAY'S Elegy. He trudg'd along, unknowing what he sought, His corn and cattle were his only care, DRYDEN. Princes and lords may flourish, or may fade; DRYDEN. A breath can make them, as a breath hath made; GOLDSMITH'S Deserted Village. From labour health, from health contentment springs; Contentment opes the source of every joy. BEATTIE'S Minstrel. 92 BLINDNESS. The smith, a mighty man is he, With large and sinewy hands; Are strong as iron bands. H. W. LONGFELLOW Week in, week out, from morn till night You can hear his bellows blow; How blest the farmer's simple life! H. W. LONGFELLOW. How pure the joy it yields! The cobbler's all depends upon his awl, C. W. EVEREST. And sheer's the merit of the tailor's shears; The farmers crop their living from their crop, And each man shares the blessings of their shares. Or move his plane along the timber's plane, Or with just rule adjust his iron rule, BLINDNESS. J. T. WATSON. O dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon; Without all hope of day. MILTON'S Samson Agonistes. O, loss of sight, of thee I most complain! Light, the prime work of God, to me's extinct, And all ner various objects of delight Annull'd, which might in part my grief have eas'd. MILTON'S Samson Agonistes. BLUSH - BOASTING Thus with the year Seasons return, but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of ev'n or morn, Of nature's works to me expung'd and ras'd, MILTON'S Paradise Lost. Nor to these idle orbs doth sight appear Ah! little know they of the dreamy sadness MILTON. That shadows o'er my spirit's viewless urn, Amid the bright band gathering round our hearth, MRS. A. B WELBY BOASTING. The honour's overpaid, When he that did the act is commentator. 93 |