120 



THE CABINET OF NATURAL HISTORY, 



left this place, where we were well satisfied we had been 

 charged at a good price for other matters besides ducks. 

 But all these vexatious circumstances, Mr. Editors, were 

 counterbalanced by the gratification we experienced where- 

 ever our box was seen, by some such remarks as these: 

 " Why, gentlemen, you have had grand luck!" — "Are 

 these your birds? Wild geese too!" — and some ganders 

 would ask us if these were not 



SWAN. 



VERNAL NATURE. 



" The time of the singing of birds is come." 



There's a voice from the woods! — The winter had set 

 His seal of ice where the flow'rets met, 

 And long had he held his chilly reign. 

 With storm and sleet o'er the frozen plain. 

 And his purest garlands of snow were hung 

 On the ancient oak and the sapling young, 

 And the sigh of the bleak and northern breeze, 

 Was all that was heard from the leafless trees. 



The streams that had murmur'd thro' summer's sway, 



Then silently crept on their gloomy way, 



For their voices were chok'd by the tyrannous force 



Which Winter had set on their rippling course; 



The shrill cicada that woke the night. 



Had shrunk away from the season's blight, 



For the hoary monarch had utter'd his will, 



And the sounds from the forest were hush'd and still. 



But now there's a voice from the woods again! — 



It is not the language nor voice of men; 



It comes with a murmur soft and low, 



A sound that nature is glad to know, 



Because it tells that the winter is past. 



That there's nought to fear from his raving blast, 



That the sceptre has dropp'd from his palsied hand, 



And Spring has come back to refresh the land. 



There's a voice from the woods! — 'Tis the rushing of 



streams. 

 That melt in the sun's reviving beams; 

 From their mountain holds in their joy they foam, 

 And leap, like the kids that around them roam; 

 Away, from rock to rock, they go. 

 Tossing their waters to and fro, 



As if they were things of life, to be 

 Awake to the feelings of liberty. 



There's a voice from the woods! — 'Tis the voice of flowers. 



That breathe perfume from their forest bowers. 



As, peeping forth from their close retreat. 



They open their leaves the spring to greet. 



And when the earth is array'd in green. 



With their light blue petals are modestly seen; 



Or drest in their beautiful robes of red. 



Along its surface their odours shed. 



There's a voice from the woods! — 'Tis the warbler's song. 



That comes in melody, sweet and strong, 



From the depth of the grove, on the balmy air, 



The first assurance that Spring is there; 



The wild deer arches his neck to hear. 



And drinks in the sound with a joyous ear, 



For it tells him that Nature again is awake. 



And he hurries to seek her, by mountain and lake. 



there's joy in the wood where the blue-bird has sung. 

 For it tells tho' the shoots and the flowers are young, 

 That the forest again will be cover'd with leaves — 

 That the field will again have its burthen of sheaves — 

 That the bounties and blessings that come in its train. 

 Will return with the season of dew-drops and rain; 

 well may the poet thy eulogy sing. 

 And hail the wild melody, herald of Spring! 



C. W. T. 



MYSTERIOUS SOUNDS. 



The wide spread sail of a ship, rendered concave by a 

 gentle breeze, is a good collector of sound. "It hap- 

 pened," says Dr. Arnott, " once, on board a ship sailing 

 along the coast of Brazil, far out of sight of land, that the 

 persons walking on deck, when passing a particular spot, 

 always heard very distinctly the sound of bells, varying as 

 in human rejoicings. All on board came to listen, and were 

 convinced; but the phenomenon was most mysterious. 

 Months afterwards, it was ascertained that, at the time of 

 observation, the bells of the city of St. Salvador, on the 

 Brazilian coast, had been ringing on the occasion of a festi- 

 val; their sound, therefore, favoured by a gentle wind, had 

 travelled, perhaps, one hundred miles by smooth water, 

 and had been brought to a focus by the sail on the particu- 

 lar situation, or deep, where it was listened to. It appears, 

 from this, that a machine might be constructed, having the 

 same relation to sound that a telescope has to sight." 



[Edin. Phil. Jour. 



