Billeder på siden
PDF
ePub

ON THE MUSHROOM TRIBE.

LOVELIER far than vernal flowers,
The Mushrooms shooting after showers!
That fear no more the fatal scythe,
But proudly spread their bonnets blithe,
With coverings form'd of silk and snow,
And lined with brightening pink below.

But more the later Fungus race :—

[blocks in formation]

Their forms and hues some solace yield,
In wood, or wild, or humid field,
Whose tapering stems, robust or light,
Like columns catch the searching sight,
To claim remark where'er I roam,
Supporting each a stately dome:
Like fair umbrellas furl'd, or spread,
Display their many-coloured head,
Grey, purple, yellow, white, or brown,
Shap'd like War's shield, or Prelate's crown,
Like Freedom's cap, or Friar's cowl!

Or China's bright inverted bowl;

And while their broadening disks unfold
Gay silvery gills, or nets of gold,
Beneath their shady-curtain'd cove,
Perform all offices of love.

In beauty chief, the eye to chain,
'Mong whispering pines, or arid plain,
A glittering group assembled stands,
Like Elf's or Fay's embattled bands,
Where every arm appears to wield
With pigmy's strength a giant shield,
And deeply dyed in sanguine gore,
With brazen bosses studded o'er;

While magic Fancy's ear confounds

The whistling winds with hostile sounds.

JAMES WOODHOUSE.

"In habit, the Fungi," writes the intelligent naturalist, Dr. Johnston, of Berwick-upon-Tweed, "vary infinitely, and in general they have little resemblance to the plants of any other order. Some resemble an umbrella, some a piece of honeycomb; others are cups in miniature; others again resemble a ball, a club, or a mace, or assume the forms of sea-corals; while many defy comparison with any familiar objects, and grow in figures peculiar to themselves." They are of quick growth and short duration, and frequently exhibit every variety of shade and tint. "Let but the lover of Natural History," says Dr. Fleming, "free his mind from prejudice, and then examine the forms and colouring of the Fungi, and he will be compelled to admit, that many of them rival in symmetry and splendour the Rose and the Lily, those gaudy ornaments of Flora."

"As there is no critical mark to determine at once between poisonous and salutary Mushrooms, we may lay it down as a general rule, that those should be suspected and avoided, that grow in moist and marshy grounds, and especially in the shade,-that have a dirty looking surface, and whose gills are soft, moist, and porous."-Dr. Good. Old Gerarde gives the following advice respecting these "voluptuous poisons: "

The meadow mushrooms are in kinde the best,
It is ill trusting any of the rest.

THE THRUSH'S NEST.

WITHIN a thick and spreading hawthorn bush
That overhung a molchill large and round,

I heard, from morn to morn, a merry Thrush
Sing hymns to sunrise, while I drank the sound
With joy and often, an intruding guest,
I watch'd her secret toils, from day to day,

How true she warp'd the moss to form her nest,
And model'd it within with wood and clay.

And by and bye, like heath-bells gilt with dew,
There lay her shining eggs, as bright as flowers,
Ink-spotted-over shells of green and blue,
And there I witness'd, in the Summer hours,
A brood of Nature's minstrels chirp and fly,
Glad as the sunshine and the laughing sky.

CLARE.

TO THE THRUSH.

OH! herald of the Spring! while yet
No hare-bell scents the woodland lane,
Nor starwort fair, nor violet,

Braves the bleak gust, and driving rain:
'Tis thine, as through the copses rude
Some pensive wanderer sighs along,
To soothe him with thy cheerful song,
And tell of Hope and Fortitude.

For thee, then, may the hawthorn bush,
The elder, and the spindle-tree,
With all their various berries blush,
And the blue sloe abound for thee!
For thee the coral holly glow,
Its arm'd and glossy leaves among;
And many a branched oak be hung
With the pellucid misseltoe!

Still may thy nest, with lichen lin’d,
Be hidden from the invading jay;
Nor truant boy its covert find,
To bear thy callow young away.
So thou, precursor still of good,
Oh! herald of approaching Spring!
Shalt to the pensive wanderer sing,
Thy song of Hope and Fortitude!

MRS. C. SMITH.

The Thrush, Turdus musicus, is very generally admired for his melodious song, which in plaintiveness, compass, and execution, is much superior to that of the Blackbird. He begins to sing as early as February, and is known by the names of the Thrush, Throstle, Mavis, and Grey-bird.

[graphic]

Lo! where the rosy-bosom'd
hours,

Fair Venus' train, appear,
Disclose the long-expecting
flowers,

And wake the purple year!
The Attic warbler pours her throat,
Responsive to the cuckoo's note,

The untaught harmony of Spring:
While, whispering pleasure as they fly,
Cool zephyrs through the clear blue sky
Their gather'd fragrance fling.

Where'er the oak's thick branches stretch A broader, browner shade;

Where'er the rude and moss-grown beech*
O'er-canopies the glade,

Beside some water's rushy brink

With me the Muse shall sit, and think

(At ease reclin'd in rustic state)
How vain the ardour of the crowd,
How low, how little are the proud,
How indigent the great!

Still is the toiling hand of care;
The panting herds repose:

Yet hark! how through the peopled air

The busy murmur glows!

The insect youth are on the wing,
Eager to taste the honied Spring,

And float amid the liquid noon :
Some lightly o'er the current skim
Some show their gaily-gilded trim,
Quick-glancing to the sun.

To contemplation's sober eye
Such is the race of man;
And they that creep, and they that fly,
Shall end where they began.
Alike the busy and the gay
But flutter through life's little day

In fortune's varying colours dress'd :
Brush'd by the hand of rough mischance,
Or chill'd by age, their airy dance

They leave, in dust to rest.

Methinks I hear in accents low

The sportive kind reply;

'Poor Moralist! and what art thou?

A solitary fly!

* The character here applied by Gray to the beech is by no means appropriate, for no tree is so little or so seldom either rude or moss-grown.

« ForrigeFortsæt »