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There has not been a sound to-day
To break the calm of nature;
Of life or living creature:
Or cattle faintly lowing;
The leaves and blossonis growing.
The rain's continuous sound,
Down straight into the ground.
Earth's paked breast to skreen,
With shoots of tender green.
Those honeysuckle buds
Hath put forth larger studs;
The milk-white flowers revealing;
Metbinks their sweets are stealing :
Is all with fragrance rife!
Are flushing into life.
Those earth-rejoicing drops !
Then thips, decreases, stops.
Have circled out of sight,
Breaks forth, of amber light.
But yet behold-abrupt and loud,
Comes down the glitt'ring rain ;
The fringes of its train.
Want of space forbids us from pursuing the details of the picture—the effects of the sudden sunshine on the birds--the passing of a train of cows from the pasture-and, lastly, of a flock of sheep, which
Wind into the stream of light
That pours across the road,
In one broad yellow flood.
The shepherd saunters last—but wby
Comes with him, pace for pace,
Looks up the creature's face?
(Poor ewe!) a dead cold weight,
So fondly cherished late.
Ranged o'er those pastures wide
Was sporting by her side.
Poured down all night—its bed
But the young lamb was dead.
Its ev'ry art had tried
The weak one at her side.
Her woolly limbs her head
Day dawned, and it was dead. ,
It bad no strength, no breath,
The mystery of death?
Yet fondly she essayed
Then restless trial made;
And low complaining bleat,
Those little stiff’ning feet.
Love's last fond lure was vain;
She laid her down again, The process of vegetation is general and rapid in this month. The blackthorn or sloe (prunus spinosa)
į puts forth its elegant flowers; a host of others fol
low, among which may be named the ash (fraxinus excelsior), ground-ivy (glecoma hederacea), and the box-tree (buxus sempervirens). The apricot, the peach, nectarine, the wild and garden cherry, and the plum (all of which contain a portion of prussic acid, or the peculiar principle of almonds); gooseberry and currant trees, the hawthorn (cratogus oxycantha), and the sycamore (acer pseudo-platanus), are now in flower. The blossoms of the apple and pear present to the eye a most agreeable spectacle, particularly in those counties which abound with orchards.
The beech (fagus sylvatica) and the larch (pinuslarix rubra) are now in full leaf. The larch, also, exhibits its red tufts or flowers, which soon expand into cones, and the fir tribe show their cones also. That magnificent and beautiful tree, the horse-chesnut (hippocastanum), now displays its honours of fine green leaves and its handsome spikes pyramidal' of white and red flowers; it is quite the glory of forest trees.
The laurel is in flower; and that universal favourite, the violet, is still seen and loved, for its own and for remembrance sake.
To the YELLOW VIOLET.
By an American Poet.
And woods the blue-bird's warble know,
Peeps from the last year's leaves below.
Ere russet fields their green resume,
Sweet flow'r! I love, in forest bare,
Alone is in the virgin air.
Of all her train, the hands of Spring
First plant thee in the watry mould;
Beside the snow-bank's edges cold.
Thy parent Sun, who bade thee view
Pale skies, and chilling moisture sip,
And-streaked with jet thy glowing lip.
And earthward bent tby gentle eye,
When loftier flow'rs are flaunting nigh.
Thy early smile bas stayed my, walk;,
I passed thee on thy hun ble stalk.
The friends in darker fortunes tried;
That I should ape the ways of pride.
Awakes the painted tribes, of light,
That made the woods of April bright. Many and lovely, are the flowers which are showered, in profusion, from the lap of April: among them may be named the jonquil, anemonė, ranunculus, polyanthus, and the crown imperial. The double white, the yellow, and some others of the earlier tulips, are fully opened in this month; but the more illustrious varieties will not blow for some weeks. This tribe is the gayest offspring of fforiculture. Other flowers which adorn our fields, at this time, are the checquered daffodib (fritillaria meleagris), the primrose', the cowslip (primuta veris), the lady-smock
1 And now the primrose finely strews the path,
W. BROWNE. 2 « When I awoke in the morning, Iwent up to the window: the first thing I saw was the church; I remembered that my mother's body had been lying out all night, and ran as fast as I could to the churchyard. The dark pit was not to be seen, nor could I find where it had been for some time. On the spot was a sort of mound raised up, like many others in the churchyard, coved with fresh turf, and bound together with osiers. One little cowslip was growing up among the grass; the soft pale green stem of this flower was no longer than a long blade of grass; but I was quite glad to see it,
(cardamine pratensis), and the harebell (hyacinthus non scriptus).
So lightly trembling.
I've seen thee tangled,
With dew-drops spangled.
Still freshly springing,
Like friendship clinging.
Thy flowers revealing,
Thy soft bells pealing.
And thou appearest
Whose last are dearest.
The year's past pleasures;
aud every morning I went to look if the little buds were blown, and, when the weather was very dry, I always watered it. After it left off blowing, I never forgot it; but loved its little crimped half-hidden leaves better than all the brightest summer flowers: now there are more than thirty cowslips on my mother's grave. A cowslip was her favourite flower.'-May you Like It, 12mo. 1822. ·