AN ENTOMOLOGICAL DRKAM. 



109 



His love is not quenched, but burns as clear 



As when he had numbered but twenty years ; 



"With regret I've heard that his eyesight's weak, 



And that he no more can an insect seek; 



Sincerely I hope that it is not so, 



But that he may soon be able to show 



That the eye's not dimm'd, nor the hand 



grown cold, 



But that he's the same as in days of old, 



When, with careful eye and with skilful hand, 



He adorned the work which his mind had 



plann'd 



"With those life-like figures which, all agree, 



We scarce ever again can hope to see. 



But now a great name appeared on the stage, 



Name second to none of the present age, 



Discov'rer of sugar, that tempting bait, 



Which beguiles the Noctuce small and great ; 



As breeder of larva? he holds first place, 



His insects he sets with peculiar grace, 



And many, I think, will be of my mind, 



That a finer collection none can find. 



Yet unassuming and modest withal, 



He imparts his knowledge to great and small, 



And, unlike some whom 'twere easy to name, 



Of far more pretension, but far less fame, 



With generous hand his insects he sends 



To all his entomological friends; 



He asks not, he seeks not, aught in return, 



For kindlier feelings within him burn, 



And well I know that I shan't stand alone 



When, with thankful lips, I gratefully own 



That many and many an insect fair, 



Which adonis my drawers, had never been 



there 



Exceptiug for him whose praises I sing, 



Though with feeble pen and on humble wing. 



From what has" been said, I think we all may 



Perceive that I mean my friend D y , 



And so let us give him three hearty cheers, 



And wish him long life and good insect years. 



The lovers of Nature and Nature's works, 



And those who would learn where an insect 



lurks, 



In the next who pass'd by will surely find 



A clever author, and one of like mind. 



The house, the garden, the orchard, the field, 



Whatever the hedges and lanes do yield, 



The fences, the heaths, the commons, the 



downs, 



The woods and the waters, (where are the 



towns?) 



The mountains, the shore, are all in his 



book, 



(To be 

 VOL. VII. 



Which well deserves something more than a 



look. 

 Had you compiled less, and given us more 

 In your own pleasant style, of insect lore, 



Know, Mr. D s, that others, like me, 



Would have thought your work of faults 



almost free. 

 But let us not carp, let us rather ask 

 Could I have done better, were mine the task ? 

 Now next came the Reverend J. . . .h G. . . .e, 

 Who, trowel in hand, may often be seen. 

 His pen he can use to tell us the way 

 To capture a moth on each winter's day. 

 So closely he digs, that many would dub 

 The digger himself as nought but a grub. 

 To see him thus dig, his hands thus employ, 

 Is cause of wonder to man and to boy. 

 Then methought I heard the mournful lament 

 Of him who goes forth on digging intent: 

 "It's very hard work, not to mention the 



cold, 

 There's much disappointment in damp and. 



mould; 

 My poor hands are scratch' d, my back is 



pain'd, 

 And yet for all this no pupa I've gained; 

 To return empty-handed, tired, and sore, 

 Is too much, so I'll not try any more." 

 But 6tay! what is this? an earthen cocoon! 

 Which soon makes him change his querulous 



tune; 

 And then he exclaims, as others appear, 

 "I'll try pupa-digging again next year!" 

 But whom have we now? a widely-known G., 



G n, to wit, as my readers may see; 



He dwells far away in a northern town, 

 And will tell you with hot and angry frown, 

 "All the best insects, including the 'Ors,' 

 Were taken by me, or my ancestors!" 

 0! come let us weave a garland of bays 

 For these wonderful "lights of other days ;" 



And when we're gone, may a G n arise 



To celebrate us for catching some flies! 

 The next who pass'd was one learn'd and 



urbane, 

 One of whom Ireland may justly be vain; 

 In anatomical knowledge there's none 

 Who more or better-earned laurels has won. 

 But his fame's not canfin'd to Erin's land, 

 Where he heads a small but zealous band, 

 And H 's name stands just as high 



here, 

 For knowledge profound, and for judgment 



clear. 

 continued.) 



