192 



KIDD'S LONDON JOURNAL. 



A Song for March. 

 By H. G. Adams. 



The Dormouse hath waked from his winter sleep ; 

 And the Squirrel is springing from hough to 

 hough ; 

 And the Mole is at work in his caverns deep, 

 Unhurt by the shares of the delving plough ; 

 The song of a bird 

 Is now and then heard, 

 As the sunshine falls on the leafless woods ; 

 And the boughs, though bare, 

 Give here and there 

 A glorious promise of crimson buds. 



Now one by one, in the meads so green, 

 The silver daisies their eyes unclose ; 

 From its icy bonds set free, between 



The sprouting alders the streamlet flows- 

 Singing a song 

 The whole day long, 

 To spread the glad tidings on every hand ; 

 The winter is gone, 

 The spring cometh on — 

 And the voice of the turtle is heard in the land. 



Every day and every hour, 



New shapes of beauty the eye beholds — 

 As the sun shines out with greater power, 

 The green blade springs, and the bud unfolds ; 



Down, far down, 



'Neath the surface brown, 

 What a busy stir of life is there! 



Seed and root 



Expand and shoot, 

 Making their way to the light and air. 



" No more slumber, and no more rest, 



There's a work to do, and a race to run ; 

 Sluggards may sleep if it like them best, 

 We must away to meet the sun ; 



To deck the hills, 



To shade the rills, 

 And to cover the vales with waving grain; 



With leaves to shield, 



Ripe fruits to yield, 

 To please the sense, and the life sustain." 



" No more slumber, and no more rest, 



(Such is the song all nature sings) 

 Till the Autumn sun sinks in the golden west, 

 And the birds sit mute with folded wings ;" 



For even forth 



To the icy north, 

 A voice hath gone which saith— "Arise ! 



Deck earth anew, 



With every hue 

 Which she wore in her eastern Paradise !" 



Such is the song that all nature sings ; 



Shall man be idle, shall man be mute? 

 While flying, and swimming, and creeping things, 

 The coldest clod, and. the dullest brute, 



Now straight begin 



To delve and spin, 

 And to do the works which they have to do ; 



And obey the call 



Which biddeth all 

 The pre-appointed path pursue ! 



Coral Zoophytes* 



The flora of the tropics has ever been a theme 

 for admiration, but the ocean can boast of a 

 garden equally gorgeous and varied. In a very 

 able Paper on Coral Zoophytes, by James D. 

 Dana, Esq., there is the following description of 

 a sight so novel and beautiful, that it realises 

 the glowing scenes of fairytales: — "Zoophytes 

 imitate nearly every variety of vegetation. Trees 

 of coral are well known ; and, although not emu- 

 lating in size the oaks of our forests, for they do 

 not exceed six or eight feet in height, they are 

 gracefully branched, and the whole surface blooms 

 with coral polypes in place of leaves and flowers. 

 Shrubbery, tufts of rushes, beds of pinks and 

 feathery mosses, are most exactly imitated. Many 

 species spread out in broad leaves, or folia, and 

 resemble some large-leaved plant just unfolding. 

 When alive, the surface of eachleafis covered with 

 polypi flowers. The cactus — the lichen clinging 

 to the rock — and the fungus in all its varieties,have 

 their numerous representatives. Besides these 

 forms imitating vegetation, there are gracefully 

 modelled vases, some of which are three or four 

 feet in diameter, made up of a network of branches 

 and branchlets and sprigs of flowers. There are 

 also solid coral hemispheres, like domes among 

 the vases and shrubbery, occasionally ten, or even 

 twenty, feet in diameter, whose symmetrical sur- 

 face is gorgeously decked with polypi stars of 

 rpurple and emerald green. 



A " Love " Song. 



When Love came first to Earth, the Spring 

 Spread rose-buds to receive him ; 



And back he vow'd his flight he'd wing 

 To heaven, if she should leave him. 



But Spring departing, saw his faith 

 Pledg'd to the next new comer — 



He revell'd in the warmer breath 

 And richer bowers of Summer. 



Then sportive Autumn claim'd by rights 



An archer for her lover ; 

 And e'en in Winter's dark cold nights 



A charm he could discover. 



Her routs, and balls, and fireside joy, 

 For this time were his reasons — 



In short, young Love's a gallant boy, 

 That likes all times and seasons. 



Epistolary Proofs op Ardent Affection, 

 — St. Valentine's day was a very busy day in the 

 Post-office. Up to five o'clock in the evening 

 200,000 letters, over and above the ordinary daily 

 average, had passed through the Post-office in St. 

 Martin's-le- Grand, the total number amounting 

 to nearly 400,000, the postage realised being 

 £1,500. Qy. — How many heads have been turned 

 thereby, — and how many hearts broken ? 



London : Published by George Berger, 19, Holywell 

 Street, Strand (to whom all Letters and Communica- 

 tions, Sealed and Addressed to "the Editor," andBooics 

 for Review, are to be forwarded) ; and Procurable, 

 by order, of every Bookseller and Newsvendor in the 

 Kingdom. 



London, M. S. MyEns, Printer, 22, Tavistock Street, Covent Garden 



