THE TANAGER'S. SONG.

Tanagra Mexicana.-(LINN.)

I envy not, I ask not,
A gay or gaudy life;

I wish not, I seek not,

The haunts of noisy strife.

I love not, I hope not,

To dwell amid the crowd, Where think not, where care not, The haughty and the proud.

I should not, I could not,
Behold without much pain
The reckless, the heedless
O'erbearings of the vain.

I should not, I could not, Behold the poor oppress'd, Without some poignant anguish Arising in my breast.

T

Then give me not, I ask not,

A gay or gaudy life;

I wish not, I seek not,

The haunts of noisy strife.* (66)

(66) ORDER, PASSERES, (Linn.) TANAGER the BLACK and BLUE, the RED-BREASTED, the GOLDEN.

The genus TANAGRA, (Linn.) or TANAGER, consists of more than sixty species, nearly all found in the West Indies and America. They have been considered as similar to the sparrows of Europe, to which they approach in almost every particular, except colour and the small grooves hollowed out at the sides of the upper mandible, towards the point. They are also, like the sparrows, gregarious; but lay only two eggs at a brood. They, however, as well as most birds in warm climates, breed very often. The following are deserving notice :

The Mexicana, or BLACK-and-BLUE TANAGER, is black, beneath yellowish; breast and rump blue. Another variety, with tail coverts green, body beneath white; five inches long; sings very finely; inhabits South America.

The Jacapa, or 'RED-BREASTED TANAGER, is black; front, throat, and breast scarlet; female purplish brown, beneath reddish, wings and tail brown; six and a half inches long; builds a pendulous, cylindrical, and somewhat-curved nest; feeds on fruit; eggs white, with reddish spots. Inhabits South America.

The Violacea, or GOLDEN TANAGER, is violet; beneath and hind head fine yellow; another variety black instead of violet; female olive brown; young bird blue olive; three and a half inches long; variable in its colours; very destructive to rice plantations. Inhabits Brazil and Cayenne.

* This song has been set to music by my friend, W. JACOB, Esq. It will, most probably, be published in a separate form.

A STORM.*

Ipse Puter, media nimborum in nocte, corusca
Fulmina molitur dextrâ: quo maxima motu
Terra tremit; fugere feræ ; et mortalia corda
Per gentes humilis stravit puvor.

VIRGIL, GEORGIC I.

Now the sun with his steeds, that no mortal may tame,
In his chariot descending, and rob'd in bright flame,
O'er the west shed a radiance, when suddenly grew
A blackness in air, that a gloom around threw.
Oppressive, hot stillness, an ominous sign,

With fear that astounds, seem'd in league to combine.
With clouds, dark, portentous, deep stain'd was the
sky;

The sea-winds rose suddenly howling on high:

The sea, black and stormy, with white foam boil'd o'er; Ships, torn from their moorings, were toss'd on the shore:

The wild curling breakers, like wolves, fierce and

As they, terror-struck, flew in a dark wavy cloud:

* For some of the thoughts in this Poem the author is indebted

to HALL'S South America: see vol. ii. page 317.

From the earth, borne aloft by the maniac gust,
Arose in wild whirlwinds the darkening dust.

Now the isle shook with strange trepidation, and high
The sea heav'd her billowy mountains; the sky
Look'd a concave of horror, what time from the shore
The winds up the dell wound in deep hollow roar :
The lightning, at distance, leap'd over the hill;
No more now was heard the soft roll of the rill;
No more heard of warblers,—of parrots the note;
No more on the breeze was heard music to float:
For Thunder, approaching in haste from the west,
With his voice loud, appalling, shook many a breast.

From the sea came the STORM-BIRDS, with screams up the dell ;

And rain, mix'd with hail, now in torrents down fell.
The BIRDS all sought shelter,—the VULTURE his rock
Forsook for a place more secure from the shock:
The Tornado grew furious, and, lashing the trees,
Twisted some off their trunks,-their limbs swam on
the breeze.

The din and destruction now thicken'd apace;
It seem'd as though Uproar with Storm had a race;
Or, rather, that Nature (maniacal joy)

Sought, by one crashing stroke, her own works to destroy.

The palms were uptorn, and borne far in the air;
The birds, on their leaves, became stunn'd with despair:
The rock, where the Vulture had sat, at one stroke
Of the lightning's hot shaft, into two at once broke:

One roll'd crashing, o'erwhelming afar down the dell, The other stood still the disaster to tell;

Around which the thunder oft rattled and rang, While the light'ning from crag unto crag swiftly sprang. In the dell roar'd a torrent, where many a tree

Floated down with dead birds and dead beasts, to the

sea.

Not a note now was heard from a chorister's lute;

All the birds, still alive, struck by fear, became mute: They, closely impacted in groups, might be seen Beneath a scath'd palm, or uptorn evergreen.

1

Again the isle shook, and the sea on the shore Still roll'd in tumultuous and deafening roar;

O'er the dark vault of heav'n the fierce light'ning still flew,

And the clouds rais'd their heads in terrific review.

A moment of silence,-of calm,-came at length, And proclaim'd that the giants had wasted their strength:

While the sun shot a beam of bright light from a cloud,
A token he meant, ere he slept, to unshroud;
The thunder retir'd with a muttering growl,
And the wind flew away in an ominous howl.

The rain ceas'd; the clouds, too, soon hurried away;
And the BIRDS now look'd out from the house of

dismay.

At length, in his splendour, the sun in the west

Rode forth, and lit hope up again in the breast.