182 STORTII AND WINTER. 



Le soir, la jeune fille, en tournant son fuseau, 

 Tire encore de sa lampe un pr6sage nouveau, 

 Lorsque la meche en feu, dont la clarte s'emousse, 

 Se couvre en petillant de noirs flocons de 



Mais la se'curite reparait a son lour 



L'alcyon ne vieut plus sur 1'humide rivage, 



Aux tiedeurs du soleil etaler son plumage 



L'air s'eclaircit enfin ; du sominet des montagnes, 



Le brouillard affaisse descend dans les campagnes, 



Et le triste hibou, le soir, au haul des toits, 



En longs gemissements ne traine plus sa voix. 



Les corbeaux meme, instruits de la fin de 1'orage, 



Folatrent a 1'euvi parmi 1'epais feuillage, 



Et, d'un gosier moins rauque, annon9ant les beaux jours, 



Vont revoir dans leurs nids le fruit de leurs amours." 



' The Georgics," translated by Delillc* 



A being eminently electrical, the bird is more en rapport than 

 any other with numerous meteorological phenomena of heat and 

 magnetism, whose secrets neither our senses nor our appreciation can 

 arrive at. He perceives them in their birth, in their early beginnings, 

 even before they manifest themselves. He possesses, as it were, a 

 kind of physical prescience. What more natural than that man, 

 whose perception is much slower, and who does not recognize them 



* We subjoin Dryden's version of the above passage (" Georgics," Book I.) : 



" Wet weather seldom hurts the most unwise. 

 So plain the signs, such prophets are the skies : 

 The wary crane foresees it first, and sails 

 Above the storm, and leaves the lowly vales ; 

 The cow looks up. and from afar can find 

 The change of heaven, and snuffs it in the wind. 

 The swallow skims the river's watery face, 

 The frogs renew the croaks of their loquacious race. . . . 

 Besides, the several sorts of watery fowls, 

 That swim the seas, or haunt the standing pools; 

 The swans that sail along the silver flood, 

 And dive with stretching necks to search their food, 

 Then lave their back with sprinkling dews in vain, 

 And stem the stream to meet the promised rain. 

 The crow, with clamorous cries, the shower demands, 

 And single stalks along the desert sands. 

 The nightly virgin, while her wheel she plies, 

 Foresees the storm impending in the skies. 



