33*2 SONNETS. 



But Xenarchus forgets to tell us, or did not know, that if lady 

 insects cannot raise their voices in an unpleasant key, many of 

 them are possessed of a more powerful weapon than voice — 

 a poisonous barb, or sting, which no male insect is entrusted with j 

 iso that before we adopt the reform sarcastically suggested by the 

 crusty old Rhodian bachelor, we had better inquire whether " the 

 harmony of sweet sounds" with an angel's form, is not more 

 endurable, than if mankind had literally to conquer voiceless Ama- 

 zons, armed with sword and buckler. 



My concluding sketches of the economy of insects, and the 

 bright and lovely images called forth by the transformations of 

 several of their charming tribes, I must defer till next month — for 

 having now spun out my thread, I feel it necessary to repose in 

 chrysalis, till called forth to a new existence amidst the splendid 

 landscapes of J uly. 



SONNETS. 



I. 



Suggested by a Sccfie in Cuwleigh Pm% near Great Malvern. 



Here let me linger, while yon shadowy wood. 



Now flush'd with sunlight, slowly waxes dina : 



For hark! — a sohlary warbled hymn 



Flows from its deep and dreamy solitude. 



Is it the nightingale, that loves to brood. 



And chaunt her sorrows here, yet shuns reply T 



The sounds, at times, bespeak a downcast mood. 



At times attain sublimest ecstacy. 



Sweet forest-haunting sprite ! — thy every tone 



Teems with pure thoughts, and with each rise and fall 



My pensive Fancy moves in unison. 



Rejoicing to become thy gentle thrall. 



And treasure up, until the strain be done. 



Thy gems of song so richly musical. 



E. S. 



n. 



To the Flower called Veronica chamcedrys — the Germander Speedwell. 



Thodgh the wind lulls, the storm-cloud scarce is past. 

 As yet the rainbow brightly spans its shower ; 

 But thou, whose blue eye closed beneath the blast. 

 Already peepest at the sun, dear flower 1 

 No fairer recompense, no lovelier dower 

 In her green lap rejoicing May doth bring. 

 To woo the glittering insects to her bower. 

 Or lure the coyly-twittering birds to sing : 

 Thou wert my childhood's darling, — and I sought 

 Full oft on sunny banks the sapphire bloom 

 Of thy young blossoms, — and in later hours. 

 When Science to my mind her wonders brought, 

 How eagerly I longed for thee to come. 

 And teach me all the mystery of flowers. 



E. S. 



