NATURE'S VOICES.

"I am the mountain grand;
I speak with a voice sublime;
I came from my Maker's hand

Far back in the records of time.

I witnessed the bridal in Eden,

When God was the father and priest; And I joined in the choir of creation,

As they sang, at the first marriage feast. And yet, in my free might I stand,

As firm as when Eden was new;
And nought but that one mighty hand
That reared me, can ever subduc.
The rocks on my shoulders I bear,
The forests I wear as a crown;
On the valleys, all smiling and fair,
I look in my majesty down.
With clouds I envelope my form,

I hurl back the thunder's deep voice;

I mock at the wrath of the storm,

In the fierce howling tempest rejoice. In my cavern's away from the light, The cloud-given waters I hide;

And I well them up, sparkling and bright, In the fountain, that leaps from my side."

"I am the fountain,

Child of the mountain.

I came from its caverns deep,

Where its treasures are hidden away;
With a struggle, a shout, and a leap,
I came up to the light of the day,
In the sunbeam I linger awhile,
With the shadows a moment I play,
And then, with a sparkle and smile,
In the rill I go dancing away."

24

"From the fountain I spring;

I dance, and I sing,

And I never a moment am still:

My spray-drops I fling

Like a wild, wayward thing

I'm like the gay, merry mountain-rill.
In a sly nook I hide,

O'er the pebbles I glide,

And I glimmer, and murmur along ;

With a gay laugh, I leap

From the rock, down the steep,

And the cliffs echo back my wild song.

Merry sisters have I,

And like children we vie

With each other, in frolicsome chase;

Then we shout, and we sing,
And our gay voices ring,

As we sink to each other's embrace.

On together we dash,

With a gleam and a flash,

And a cheery, glad greeting for all;
Till, checking our speed

On the green grassy mead,

In the lap of the valley we fall."

"I, like the green valley, my tribute would bring,
To the song that the children of Nature sing.
My voices are legion. They rise from the glade,
From the herds that recline in the cool forest shade;
From the harvests, the husbandman's noble delight,
From each thing of beauty that beams on the sight;
From the streamlets, through grove and field wandering free,
And the broad, rolling river, that runs to the sea."

"I lift up my voice; like the thunders I roar;
My foam-creasted billows I dash on the shore.
The huge, laden ship like a feather I toss ;
From nation to nation I bear it across.
When the tempest is on me, I rage with delight,
I heave madly my billows, sublime in my might;
I welcome the sunlight, when the tempest is still,
And yield up my waters, the cloud-urns to fill."

"My home is on high,

On the wind-wings I fly.
The waters I bear

Through the regions of air,

From the ocean, the place of my birth,
To water the thirsty earth.

I speed on, through the darkness of night,
Till I welcome the rosy light:

I blush at the kisses of morn,

As the gates of the East I adorn;

I curtain the Day-god's bed,

With drapery golden and red.

I gather in blackness, I thunder in wrath,

And the earth is laid waste in the wild tempest's path; I scatter in fragments, I robe me in white,

O'er the valleys I hover, like a spirit of light.

I come down to the earth, in the mild-dropping shower, And steal-in to the heart of the fresh-opening flower."

"A humble song would I sing,

For I am only a flower;

A frail and defenceless thing,

My beauty and fragrance my dower.
I am found on the wild, craggy height,
I beautify valley and wood;

I everywhere gladden the sight

And soften the hearts of the good.
With the rich, and the poor, I abide,
I bloom on the graves of the dead;
In the glens of the forest I hide,

On the desert I lift up my head.
The bee comes, my waking to greet,
And revels in nectarine bliss;

The zephyr, on airy wing fleet,

Comes flitting, and snatches a kiss."

"Softly, from my viewless home,
I, the viewless zephyr, come.

Fragrance I bring from the gentle flower,
Coolness I snatch from the summer shower;
Laden with these, like treasures of love,

I come, like a messenger sent from above;
Through the trellis I steal, to the chamber of death,
To fan the pale cheek, and revive the faint breath.
I cool the hot, throbbing brow, fevered with care,
And stir the bright locks of the maiden at prayer.
A murmuring song in the tree-tops I breathe,
The cloudlet in garlands of beauty I wreathe.
To everything, coolness and fragrance I bring,
And I call all the voices of Nature to sing."

Zephyr, flower, cloud, and mountain,
Ocean, valley, rill, and fountain,
Though unconscious, ever raise
A song of freedom, and of praise;
And all Nature's countless throng
Join to swell the ceaseless song.

They sing of the wisdom and goodness, displayed
In the work of the Master, by whom they were made,
And they tell that in love, when He caused them to be,
He bade them to glorify Him, and be free-

Subject only to man, to whom they were given,

And man subject only to his Father in Heaven.

But alas! where, all fresh, as they came from God's hand,
They have robed in its glory this beautiful land,
Let them vail them in darkness, and weep not, but mourn!
For Freedom, fair Freedom from man has been torn !
Even now, in the broad, smiling fields of the West,
In vain she is seeking a place for her rest.

And shall she be driven away in disgrace,

And the blight, and the mildew, be left in her place?
Shall the reign of that Beast, by the lost spirits bred,
To the shore of the Peaceful Ocean be spread?
Shall the fruits of the lash e'er be borne on its wave,
And those mountains reëcho the cry of the slave?

Shall his tears be like rain on the wide prairie's soil,
And its rich waving harvests be dressed by his toil?
Shall those valleys resound with the slave mother's wail,
And the bay of the hound, on the fugitive's trail?
Sons and daughters of Freedom, oh! say, shall it be?
Shall the black pall of slavery be spread o'er the free?

God of Heaven, forbid! Save a suppliant land!
Turn its mourning to joy, by the might of thy hand!

APHORISMS representing a knowledge broken, do invite men to inquire farther; whereas carrying the show of a total, do secure men, as if they were at farthest.-Bacon.

WANDERINGS IN NEWFOUNDLAND.

tant.

CONTINUED FROM NO. 3, VOL. III.

Up hill with heavy packs! We often complained of the river, but now after a short trial, we should have been glad to have its aid. While walking by its side, the canoe would carry our packs, but now we were compelled to make our way as best we could, along the deer path thickly lined with gnarled bushes. From the river, we ascended a steep hillside some two hundred feet high, after which, the land extended for a great distance nearly level, with here and there a deep ravine. A line of hills stretched along the horizon apparently ten or twelve miles disThese we hoped to reach before night. The vegetation was stunted by the frosts, and the ground covered with low bushes and vines. Dwarf fir and spruce formed in many places dense thickets, so interwoven that they were impassable, except where the deer in their semi-annual migrations had broken through them. Where they were wanting, lichens, cranberries, sedges and dwarf blueberry bushes alternated according to the soil. There were many little objects of interest noticed as we passed along. Now it would be an insect, now a bird-and now some curious forms or grouping of plants; but little occurred worth noting. Whiz from the low bushes went a bird! Another and another followed so quick that our guns were of no service. We had sprung a covey of Ptarmigan Grouse. In Winter they are wholly white, at that season, (September,) the wings milk white and the body the common color of the partridge tribe. No finer mark could be desired, and Jemmy succeeded in bringing down one that had loitered behind its mates. It was feathered to the toes and well protected for the cold Winters. They were now migrating from their breeding places among the hills, to the coast where they spend the Winters, and can then be taken in great numbers. Such excitement on a dreary march is a great relief. Coming