WHITHER, 'midst falling dew,

While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way?

Vainly the fowler's eye

Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong,

As, darkly painted on the crimson sky,

Thy figure floats along.

TO A WATERFOWL.

Seek'st thou the plashy brink

Of weedy lake, or marge of river wide,

Or where the rocky billows rise and sink
On the chafed ocean-side?

There is a Power whose care

Teaches thy way along that pathless coast

The desert and illimitable air

Lone wandering, but not lost.

All day thy wings have fann'd,
At that far height, the cold thin atmosphere ;
Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land,

Though the dark night is near.

Soon shalt thou find a summer home, and rest,
And scream among thy fellows; reeds shall bend
Soon o'er thy shelter'd nest.

Thou 'rt gone-the abyss of heaven

Hath swallow'd up thy form; yet on my heart

Deeply hath sunk the lesson thou hast given,
And shall not soon depart.

He who, from zone to zone,

Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight,

In the long way that I must tread alone,

Will lead my steps aright.

W. C. BRYANT.

THE DAISY.

TAR of the mead! sweet daughter of the day,
Whose opening flower invites the morning ray,
From the moist cheek and bosom's chilly fold,
To kiss the tears of eve, the dewdrops cold!
Sweet Daisy, flower of love! when birds are pair'd,
'Tis sweet to see thee, with thy bosom bared,
Smiling in virgin innocence serene,

Thy pearly crown above thy vest of green.

The lark, with sparkling eye and rustling wing,

Rejoins his widow'd mate in early spring,

And as he prunes his plumes of russet hue,
Swears on thy maiden blossom to be true.

Oft have I watch'd thy closing buds at eve,
Which for the parting sunbeams seem'd to grieve;
And when gay morning gilt the dew-bright plain,
Seen them unclasp their folded leaves again;
"The daisy is so sweet!"

More dearly loved thy pearly form to greet,

When on his scarf the knight the daisy bound,

And dames to tourneys shone with daisies crown'd,
And fays forsook the purer fields above,

To hail the Daisy, flower of faithful love.

DR. LEYDEN.