"Lady-bird! Lady-bird! fly away home,"—

The fairy-bells tinkle afar,

Make haste, or they 'll catch ye and harness ye fast.
With a cobweb to Oberon's car.

"Lady-bird! Lady-bird! fly away home,”—

But as all serious people do, first

Clear your conscience, and settle your worldly affairs,
And so be prepar'd for the worst.

"Lady-bird! Lady-bird!" make a short shrift,
Here's a hair-shirted Palmer hard by,
And here's lawyer Earwig to draw up your will,
And we 'll witness it, Death-moth and I.

"Lady-bird! Lady-bird !"—don't make a fuss,—
You've mighty small matters to give,

Your coral and jet, and ... there, there ... you can tack
A codicil on, if you live.

"Lady-bird! Lady-bird !" fly away now,—

To your house, in the old willow-tree,
Where your children, so dear, have invited the ant,
And a few cozy neighbours to tea.

"Lady-bird! Lady-bird! fly away home,"

And if not gobbled up by the way,

Nor yoked by the fairies to Oberon's car,

You're in luck-and that's all I 've to say.

Blackwood's Magazine, 1827.

The Lady-bird or Cow-lady, Coccinella septem-punctata, in its perfect as well as larva state, is most serviceable in clearing plants of the myriads of Aphides or Plant-lice, with which they are frequently infested. The larva is of a leadcolour, spotted with orange, and may be seen in Summer running pretty briskly over plants where its food abounds. In the Autumn of 1827, the Lady-bird was so abundant, in many parts of this country, as to alarm the farmer, who ignorantly fancied this favourite of our childhood, to be detrimental to his crops.

SIGNS OF RAIN.

THE hollow winds begin to blow,
The clouds look black, the glass is low,
The soot falls down, the spaniels sleep,
And spiders from their cobwebs
peep:
Last night the sun went pale to bed,
The moon in halos hid her head.
The boding shepherd heaves a sigh,
For see! a rainbow spans the sky:
The walls are damp, the ditches smell,
Clos'd is the pink-eyed pimpernel.
Hark! how the chairs and tables crack;
Old Betty's joints are on the rack ;
Loud quack the ducks, the peacocks cry,
The distant hills are seeming nigh.
How restless are the snorting swine,-
The busy flies disturb the kine.
Low o'er the grass the swallow wings;
The cricket too, how loud it sings;
Puss on the hearth, with velvet paws,
Sits smoothing o'er her whisker'd jaws.
Through the clear stream the fishes rise,
And nimbly catch the incautious flies.
The sheep were seen at early light
Cropping the meads with eager bite.
Though June, the air is cold and chill;
The mellow black-bird's voice is still.
The glow-worms, numerous and bright,
Illum'd the dewy dell last night.
At dusk the squalid toad was seen,
Hopping, and crawling, o'er the green.
The frog has lost his yellow vest,
And in a dingy suit is dress'd.
The leech, disturb'd, is dewly risen,

Quite to the summit of his prison.
The whirling winds the dust obeys,
And in the rapid eddy plays;
My dog, so alter'd in his taste,
Quits mutton-bones on grass to feast;
And see yon rooks, how odd their flight,
They imitate the gliding kite,

Or seem precipitate to fall,

As if they felt the piercing ball :-
'Twill surely rain,-I see with sorrow;

Our jaunt must be put off to-morrow.

DR. JENNER.

For various popular prognostics of rain, wind, and other changes of the weather, see Dryden's translation of Virgil's 1st Georgic; lines 488-630, and Foster on Atmospheric Phenomena.

THE EAGLE.

THE tawny Eagle seats his callow brood

High on the cliff, and feasts his young with blood;
On Snowdon's rocks, or Orkney's wide domain,
Whose beetling cliffs o'erhang the western main,
The royal bird his lonely kingdom forms

Amidst the gathering clouds and sullen storms;
Through the wide waste of air he darts his sight,
And holds his sounding pinions pois'd for flight;
With cruel eye premeditates the war,
And marks his destin'd victim from afar :
Descending in a whirlwind to the ground,
His pinions like the rush of waters sound;
The fairest of the fold he bears away,
And to his nest compels the struggling prey ;
He scorns the game by meaner hunters tore,
And dips his talons in no vulgar gore.

MRS. BARBAULD.

TO THE FLYING-FISH.

WHEN I have seen thy snowy wing,
O'er the blue wave at evening, spring,
And give those scales, of silver white,
So gaily to the eye of light,

As if thy frame were formed to rise,
And live amid the glorious skies;
Oh! it has made me proudly feel,
How like thy wing's impatient zeal
Is the pure soul, that scorns to rest
Upon the world's ignoble breast,
But takes the plume that God has given,
And rises into light and heaven!

But when I see that wing, so bright,
Grow languid with a moment's flight,
Attempt the paths of air, in vain,
And sink into the waves again;
Alas! the flattering pride is o'er ;
Like thee, awhile, the soul may soar,
But erring man must blush, to think,
Like thee, again, the soul may sink!
Oh! Virtue, when thy clime I seek,
Let not my spirit's flight be weak ;
Let me not, like this feeble thing,
With brine still dropping from its wing,
Just sparkle in the solar glow,
And plunge again to depths below:
But, when I leave the grosser throng

With whom my soul hath dwelt so long,
Let me, in that aspiring day,
Cast every lingering strain away,
And panting for thy purer air,
Fly up at once and fix me there!

T. MOORE.

The Flying-Fish, Exocatus volitans, is a native of the European, American, and Red Seas, but chiefly confines itself between the tropics. In form and colour, it is not unlike a herring, with the addition of two long filmy fins, with which it supports itself in its short flights. It springs into the air to the height of twelve, fifteen, and even eighteen feet, and not unfrequently falls on the decks of vessels. Bp. Heber, in his Journal, gives the following interesting account of these singular creatures. "The flying-fish to-day (July 6), were more numerous and lively. They rose in whole flights to the right and left of the bow, flying off in different directions, as if the vast body of the ship alarmed or disturbed them. Others, however, at a greater distance, kept rising and falling without any visible cause, and apparently in the gladness of their hearts, and in order to enjoy the sunshine and the temporary change of element. Certainly there was no appearance or probability of any large fish being in pursuit of even one hundredth part of those we saw, nor were there any birds to endanger their flight; and those writers who describe the life of these animals as a constant successions of alarms, and rendered miserable by fear, have never, I conceive, seen them in their mirth, or considered those natural feelings of health and hilarity which seem to lead all creatures to exert, in mere lightness of heart, whatever bodily powers the Creator has given them. It would be just as reasonable to say a lamb leaps in a meadow for fear of being bitten by serpents, or a horse gallops round his pasture only because a wolf is at his heels, as to infer from the flight of these animals that they are always pursued by a bonito."

THE BUTTERFLY.

THE Butterfly, the ancient Grecians made
The soul's fair emblem-and its only name ;*
But of the soul escap'd the slavish trade
Of earthly life! For, in this mortal frame,
Ours is the reptile lot-much toil, much blame;
Manifold motions making little speed,

And to deform and kill the things whereon we feed.

COLERIDGE.

Psyche (xn,) means both a butterfly and the soul.