THE CRICKET'S SONG. 367 



In sights to charm my fire-proof eye 

 What creature half so rich as I ? 

 Spiral tongues of rainhow hue, 

 Flames of yellow, red, and hlue, 

 Now dancing in fantastic haze, 

 Now rising mingled in a blaze ; 

 Blocks of burning wood or coal, 

 To common sight a formless whole, 

 To mine a fairy region bring, 

 A world of which myself am king, 

 Of hill, and dale, and rock, and wood, 

 With fiery river, lake, and flood. 

 Say not the cricket's life is dull ! 

 My life of endless changes fall. 



Another world is no less miue, 



The sun-lit world thou callest thine ; 



For when Summer's at his full, 



When fields are bright and fires are dull, 



Then I spread my ample wings, 



And blithe as e'er a bird that sings, 



Swift and musical as he, 



Perch upon a sunny tree, 



Or within some southern wall 



Find or make my summer hall. 



Say not, then, my life is dull, 



The cricket's life, of changes full ; 



To which, with all, the gift of Heaven, 



Its own appropriate joys are given." 



While I thus, in sing-song, described the pleasures allotted to 

 our fireside friend, he all the while chirping his loudest in 

 second to my almost whispered words, I seemed almost, to 

 myself, to be only playing the part of a running interpreter to 

 his uttered speech ; and as for Lucy, to judge by the attentive 

 wondering expression of her thoughtful countenance, as she 



