NIGHT.

A mysterious darkness creeps over the face of nature; the beautiful scenes of earth are slowly fading, one by one. He raises his gaze toward heaven; and lo! a silver crescent of light, clear and beautiful hanging in the western sky, meets his astonished gaze. The young moon charms his vision, and leads him upward to her bright attendants which are now stealing, one by one, from out the deep blue sky. The solitary gazer bows, wonders and adores.

The hours glide by; the silver moon is gone; the stars are rising, slowly ascending the heights of heaven and solemnly sweeping downward in the stillness of the night. A faint streak of rosy light is seen in the east ; it brightens; the stars fade, the planets are extinguished; the eye is fixed in mute astonishment on the glowing splendor, till the first rays of the returning sun dart their radiance on the earth. O. M. MITCHELL.

THE OAK.

Beware a speedy friend, the Arabian said,
And wisely was it he advised distrust:
The flower that blossoms earliest fades the first.
Look at yon Oak that lifts its stately head,
And dallies with the autumnal storm, whose rage
Tempests the great sea-waves; slowly it rose,
Slowly its strength increased through many an age
And timidly did its light leaves disclose,
As doubtful of the spring, their palest green.
They to the summer cautiously expand,
And by the warmer sun and season bland
Matured, their foliage in the grove is seen,
When the bare forest by the wintry blast is swept,
Still lingering on the boughs the last. SOUTHEY.

AN IDYL.

I saw her first on a day in spring,

By the side of a stream, as I fished along, And loitered to hear the robins sing,

And guessed at the secret they told in song.

The apple-blossoms, so white and red,

Were mirrored beneath in the streamlet's flow; And the sky was blue far overhead,

And far in the depths of the brook below.

I lay half hid by a mossy stone

And looked in the water for flower and sky. I heard a stepI was not alone:

And a vision of loveliness met my eye.

I saw her come to the other side,

And the apple-blossoms were not more fair;

She stooped to gaze in the sunlit tide,

And her eyes met mine in the water there.

She stopped in timid and mute surprise,

And that look might have lasted till now, I ween; But, modestly dropping her dove like eyes, She turned her away to the meadow green.

I stood in wonder and rapture lost

At her slender form and her step so free,

At her raven locks by the breezes tossed,

As she kicked up her heels in the air for glee.

The apple-blossoms are withered now,

But the sky, and the meadow, andstream,are there; And whenever I wander that way I vow

That some day I'll buy me that little black mare. C. G. BUCK.

THE PRIMROSE OF THE ROCK.

A rock there is whose lonely front

The passing traveller slights;

Yet there the glow-worms hang their lamps

Like stars, at various heights;

And one coy Primrose to that Rock

The vernal breeze invites.

What hideous warfare hath been waged,
What kingdoms overthrown,
Since first I spied that Primrose-tuft
And marked it for my own
A lasting link in Nature's chain
From highest heaven let down!

The flowers, still faithful to the stems,
Their fellowship renew;

The stems are faithful to the root,

That worketh out of view;

And to the rock the root adheres

In every fibre true.

WORDSWORTH.

THE VIOLET.

The violet in her green-wood bower,

Where birchen boughs with hazels mingle,

May boast itself the fairest flower

In glen, or copse, or forest dingle.

Though fair her gems of azure hue,

Beneath the dew-drop's weight reclining,

I've seen an eye of lovelier hue,

More sweet through wat'ry lustre shining.

SCOTT.

THE DANDELION.

Dear common flower, that grow'st beside the way,
Fringing the dusty road with harmless gold,
First pledge of blithesome May,

Which children pluck, and, full of pride, uphold,
High hearted buccaneers, o'erjoyed that they
An El Dorado in the grass have found,
Which not the rich earth's ample round

May match in wealth, thou art more dear to me
Than all the prouder summer blooms may be.

How like a prodigal doth nature seem,
When thou, for all thy gold, so common art!
Thou teachest me to deem

More sacredly of every human heart,

Since then reflects in joy its scanty gleam

Of heaven, and could some wondrous secret show,

Did we but pay the love we owe.

And with a child's undoubting wisdom look,

On all these pages of God's book.

FLOWERS.

LOWELL.

Ere yet our course was graced with social trees
It lacked not old remains of hawthorn bowers,
Where small birds warbled to their paramours;
And, earlier still, was heard the hum of bees;
I saw them ply their harmless robberies,
And caught the fragrance which the sundry flowers,
Fed by the stream with soft perpetual showers,
Plenteously yielded to the fragrant breeze.
There bloomed the strawberry of the wilderness;
The trembling eyebright showed her sapphire blue,
The thyme her purple, like the blush of Even;

And if the breath of some to no caress
Invited, forth they peeped so fair to view,
All kinds alike seemed favorites of Heaven.

WORDSWORTH.

THE BUTTERFLY.

I've watch'd you now a full half-hour,
Self-poised upon that yellow flower;
And, little Butterfly! indeed

I know not if you sleep or feed.
How motionless! not frozen seas

More motionless! and then

What joy awaits you, when the breeze
Hath found you out among the trees,
And calls you forth again!

This plot of orchard-ground is ours:
My trees they are, my Sister's flowers;
Here rest your wings when they are weary;
Here lodge as in a sanctuary!

Come often to us, fear no wrong;

Sit near us on the bough!

We'll talk of sunshine and of song,

And summer days, when we were young;
Sweet childish days, that were as long
As twenty days are now.

WORDSWORTH.

LICHENS AND MOSSES.

Lichen and mosses (though these last in their luxuriance are deep and rich as herbage, yet both for the most part humblest of the green things that live)-how of these?