however teaches the hen to drive her young ones from her side when they become capable of providing for themselves, in order that she may again recover sufficient vigour to rear a second brood.

The sweet violet sheds its delicious perfumes. The leaves of honeysuckles are nearly expanded in our gardens, the buds of the cherry-tree, the peach, the nectarine, the apricot, and the almond are fully opened in this month. The buds of the hawthorn and of the larch tree begin to open; and the tansy emerges out of the ground; ivy-berries are ripe, the daffodil in moist thickets, the rush and the spurge-laurel found in woods, are now in bloom. The common whitlow grass on old walls; the yellow alpine whitlow grass on maritime rocks; and the mountain pepper-wort among limestone rocks, flower in this month.

LINES ON SPRING.

Come fairest portion of the new-born year,
Winter's dark gloom and nature's aspect cheer,
Her glowing hues and smiles again restore,
And let not man her transient loss deplore ;
But to the giver of these blooming days,
Pour forth the grateful anthem of thy praise,-
Who crowns each circling season with delight,
To form its beauty for our mortal sight.
With graceful softness blends each varied hue,
And life's returning charms creates anew ;
In ev'ry infant bud and opening flower,
We trace the marks of his Almighty power:
In each renewing prospect of the year,
His goodness, might, and majesty appear,
Like the first dawn of life's enchanting spring,
When cares, nor griefs, the growing blossom sting.

Brought to perfection by the ripening sun,
His ardor forms what it had first begun;
Alas! how soon to fade at death's command,
By the chill grasp of winter's icy hand :-
Its beauteous leaves in scattered fragments lay,
The blighted prospects of a summer's day;
When thus old age steals on with trembling pace,
And time's dark furrows mark the care-worn face;
When death appears, the last and only friend,
Our transient joys and blighted hopes to end:
Where now my soul are all those youthful days,
The fleeting pleasures of life's golden rays?
Alas! they all are fled !—we are bereft
Of ev'ry comfort-Hope alone is left
To sooth our sick'ning spirits, and to fan
The last bright hope of once despairing man.
And that bright hope transcendant joy will bring
To view, once more another cheering spring:
A spring that reigns in heaven's eternal space,
Form'd for our souls by his almighty grace;
Where endless years and never ending days,
We'll sing with angels our Creator's praise.

Helen.

SONG FOR SPRING MORNINGS.
BY T. H. BAYLEY.

Oh! 'tis sad to see the splendour
Of the Summer pass away
When the night is always stealing
Precious moments from the day:
But in Spring each lengthened evening,
Tempts us farther off from home;
And if Summer has more beauty,
All that beauty is to come.

It is thus in manhood's summer,

That the heart too often grieves
Over friends lost prematurely,

Like the fall of blighted leaves;
But life's spring-time is far sweeter,
When each green bud appears,
May expand into a blossom
To enliven future years.

TO A BLIND GOLDFINCH.

BY C. B. S.

'Tis a fond foolish sympathy I feel

With thee, poor sightless sufferer! whose strain Bewails the cruelty of burning steel,

And life's long darkness torturing more than pain. I droop like thee; my hopeless spirit pines

Through darkened months, perhaps the germ of years,
E'en more than when these cold and cruel lines
Stunned thought and feeling, till relieved by tears.

Like thee, I feel the light I loved withdrawn,
The gloom oppressing with perpetual weight;
To thee sad memory brings the dewy lawn-
To me the social hours I shared so late;
Captivity and darkness prompt thy song-
As dark an exile bids me idly rhyme :
To each the hours uncounted steal along;

Why should the hopeless watch the flight of time?
Friendship's Offering

APRIL.

How beautiful the pastime of the Spring!
Lo! newly waking from her wintry dream,
She, like a smiling infant, timid plays
On the green margin of this sunny lake,
Fearing, by starts, the little breaking waves
(If riplings rather known by sound than sight,
May haply so be named) that in the grass,
Soon fade in murmuring mirth.

John Wilson.

APRIL has been thus described by John Worlidge, and quoted by Mr. Felton in his admirable pamphlet entitled-On the Portraits of English Authors on Gardening:

"In this month your garden appears in its greatest beauty, the blossoms of the fruit-trees prognosticate the plenty of fruits for all the succeeding summer months, unless prevented by untimely frosts or blights. The bees now buz in every corner of your garden to seek for food; the birds sing in every bush, and the sweet nightingale tunes her warbling notes in your solitary walks, whilst the other birds are at their rest. The beasts of the woods look out into the plains, and the fishes of the deep sport themselves in the shallow waters. The air is wholesome, and the earth pleasant, beginning now to be cloathed with nature's best array, exceeding all art's glory.

This is the time that whets the wits of several nations to prove their own country to have been the Garden of Eden, or the terrestrial paradise, however it appears all the year besides. In case unseasonable weather hinders not, the pleasantness and salubrity of the air now tempts the sound to the free enjoyment of it, rather than to enjoy the pleasures of Bacchus in a smoky corner."

During this month, most of the migratory birds return to this country: among these are the swallow, the martin, the swift, the nightingale, the wryneck, the cuckoo, the ring-ousel, the red-start, the yellow wren, the white-throat, the grasshopper, lark, and willow wren. The migration of birds has been justly considered as one of the most wonderful exhibitions of nature. This migration, which is common to a number of birds, furnishes a striking instance of the powerful instinct impressed by the Creator. Dr. Derham observes two circumstances remarkable in this migration: the first, that these untaught unthinking creatures, should know the proper times for their passage, when to come and when to go; as also, that some should come when others retire. No doubt, the temperature of the air as to heat and cold, and their natural propensity to breed their young, are the great incentives to these creatures to change their habitations. But why should they at all change their habitations? And why is some certain place to be found, in all the terraqueous globe, that, all the year round, can afford them convenient food and habitation? The second remarkable circumstance is, that they should know which way to steer their course and whither to go. What instinct is it that can induce a poor foolish bird to venture over large tracts of land and