Thy joys no glittering female meets, We frolic, while 'tis May.' GRAY, THE FLOWER AND THE WILLOW. A LOVELY flower of rainbow hue While passion shook its blushing head, To hide such charms is 'gainst all rule, To plant so fair a flower as me The goddess from her fragrant bower, "Frail murmurer! well may'st thou lament For since my shelter was despis'd, Why did thy pride create a care That all who pass'd might deem thee fair? To Flora's tribes, I hope thy fall The faded flower made no reply,— MARY M. COLLING. "From Nature's largest work to the least insect that frets the leaf, each has organs and feelings and habits, exactly suited to the place it has to fill. Were it other than it is, it could not fill its place-and being what it is, were it removed to any other, it would surely be less happy. The flower of the valley would die upon the mountain's top, and surely would the hardy mountaineer, now flourishing on Alpine heights, languish and die, if transplanted to the valley. The Maker of the world, then, has made no mistakes,-has done no injustice, every thing as He arranged it, is what it should be, and is placed where it should be, and none can repine, and none complain."-The Listener. The above poem is extracted from the "Fables and Poems by Mary Maria Colling." The amiable writer is a servant in a family in the South of England; -under the generous patronage of Mrs. Bray, a volume of her poems was published. When asked what could induce her to write Fables, she replied, "when of an evening, she was amongst the flower-beds, and saw them all so lively and so beautiful, she used to fancy the flowers talked to her." This interesting publication of a self-taught genius we recommend to the attention of our readers. ULYSSES AND HIS DOG. THUS, near the gates conferring as they drew, Bred by Ulysses, nourish'd at his board, To him, his swiftness and his strength were vain; And where on heaps the rich manure was spread, He knew his lord:-he knew, and strove to meet; The Dog, whom Fate had granted to behold POPE'S HOMER, Odyss. B. xvii. The sensibility ascribed in these lines to the Dog of Ulysses, shows how justly mankind have appreciated the noble character of these faithful and affectionate creatures, even from the most remote periods of antiquity. While almost every other animal fears man as an enemy, here is one that regards him as a companion, and after years of absence recognises him as a friend. "Everywhere it is the Dog alone, that takes delight in associating with us, in sharing our abode, and is jealous that our attention should be exclusively bestowed on him; it is he who knows us personally, who watches, and warns us of danger. It is impossible for the Naturalist, when surveying the animal creation, not to feel a conviction that this friendship between two creatures so widely different, must result from unerring laws; nor can the humane and feeling mind avoid a belief, that kindness to the animals, from which he derives such continual and essential service, is an important part of his duty." ON A BLIGHTED ROSE-BUD. SCARCE had thy velvet lips imbib'd the dew, When the North wind enamour'd of thee grew; And by his cold rude kiss thy charms decay; Now droops thy head, now fades thy blushing hue,— No more the queen of flowers, no longer gay :So blooms a maid-her guardians, health and joyHer mind array'd in innocency's vestWhen suddenly, impatient to destroy, Death clasps the virgin to his iron breast: She fades-the parent, sister, friend, deplore Her charms and budding virtues, now no more! MISS. C. SYMMONS.* • The promising writer of this Sonnet died in the twelfth year of her age. THE GROVE. MILD-BREATHING Zephyr, father of the Spring, So many lights and shadows, nor the rain Heaven-painted bow, when that the sun doth court her, Nor purple pheasant, while her mate doth sport her To hear him crow, and with a beauteous pride The balmy West-wind blows, and every sense And every flower doth laugh as Zephyr blows. |