THE SHORES. 

 DECAY OF CERTAIN SPECIES. 



I HAVE frequently observed, in my days of sad- 

 ness, a being sadder still, which Melancholy might 

 have chosen for its symbol: I mean, the Dreamer of 

 the Marshes, the meditative bird that, in all seasons, 

 standing solitarily before the dull waters, seems, 

 along with his image, to plunge in their mirror his 

 monotonous thought. 



His noble ebon-black crest, his pearl-gray mantle this 

 semi-royal mourning contrasts with his puny body and 

 transparent leanness. "When flying, the poor heron dis- 

 plays but a couple of wings; low as is the elevation to 

 which he rises, there is no longer any question of his body he 

 becomes invisible. An animal truly aerial, to bear so light a frame, 



