THE PARROT. A DOMESTIC ANECDOTE. THE following incident, so strongly illustrating the power of memory and association in the lower animals, is not a fiction. I heard it many years ago in the Island of Mull, from the family to whom the bird belonged. THE deep affections of the breast, That Heaven to living things imparts, By human hearts. A parrot, from the Spanish Main, Full young, and early caged, came o'er To spicy groves where he had won For these he changed the smoke of turf, But, petted, in our climate cold He lived and chattered many a day; At last, when blind and seeming dumb, He hailed the bird in Spanish speech, ON GETTING HOME THE PORTRAIT OF A FEMALE CHILD, SIX YEARS OLD, PAINTED BY EUGENIO LATILLA. TYPE of the Cherubim above, Come, live with me, and be my love! Or, were the Lady-Moon to gaze, And more becomes thy beauty's bloom Thou hast not, to adorn thee, girl, Not ev'n a rose-bud from the bower- My arch and playful little creature, He marshals minds to Beauty's feast, Who proves, by heavenly forms on earth, For children, in Creation, are The only things that could be given - Back, and alive, unchanged, to Heaven! SONG OF THE COLONISTS DEPARTING FOR NEW ZEALAND. STEER, helmsman, till you steer our way, By stars beyond the line; We go to found a realm, one day, Like England's self to shine. CHORUS. Cheer up! cheer up! our course we'll keep, And when we've ploughed the stormy deep, A land, where beauties importune To sow but plenteous seeds, and prune Luxuriant fruits and flowers. Chorus. Cheer up cheer up! &c. There, tracts uncheered by human words, Seclusion's wildest holds, Shall hear the lowing of our herds, And tinkling of our folds. Chorus. Cheer up cheer up! &o Like rubies set in gold, shall blush And wine, and oil, and gladness gush Chorus. Cheer up cheer up! &c. We'll girdle earth with British arts, Like Ariel's magic chains. CHORUS. Cheer up! cheer up! our course we'll keep, With dauntless heart and hand; And when we've ploughed the stormy deep, We'll plough a smiling land. MOONLIGHT. THE kiss that would make a maid's cheek flush Wroth, as if kissing were a sin Amidst the Argus eyes and din And tell-tale glare of noon, Brings but a murmur and a blush, Beneath the modest moon. Ye days, gone -never to come back, When love returned entranced me so, That still its pictures move and glow In the dark chamber of my heart; Leave not my memory's future trackI will not let you part. 'Twas moonlight, when my earliest love First on my bosom dropped her head; A moment then concentrated The bliss of years, as if the spheres Their course had faster driven, And carried Enoch-like above, A living man to Heaven. |