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to do more than assert that, with the exception of these, the more magnificent memorials of Nature's workings on the globe, our own country possesses as large a proportion of fine scenery as any part of the continent of Europe.
Poetical Pictures in August.
VIRGINIA Water: by CHARLES KNIGHT.
Faint image of the loud and mighty falls
Friendship's Offering, 1828. Oh! 'tis sad to see the splendour
Of the Summer pass away,
Precious moments from the day :
Tempts us farther off from home;
All that beauty is to come.
That the heart too often grieves
Like the fall of blighted leaves ;
When each green bud that appears
T. H. BAYLY.
How like an image of repose it looks
That ancient, holy, and sequestered pile!
Silence abides in each tree-shaded aisle, And on the grey spire caw the hermit rooks; So absent is the stamp of modern days,
That, in the quaint, carved oak, and oriel stained, With saintly legend, to Reflection's gaze
The star of Eld seems not yet to have waned.
At pensive eventide, when streams the west
On moss-ground pediment, and tombstone grey,
And spectral silence pointeth to decay,
Delta, of Blackwoods Magazine.
a Lapland Summer. In no part of the world are the opposite seasons of the year more strikingly. contrasted, and nowhere do the alterations of summer and winter present, in every point of view, a more sudden and remarkable change, than in the countries beyond the polar circle. Should the traveller be pursuing his way at the commencement of the former season, he cannot see without astonishment the rapidity with wbich the whole vegetable kingdom starts into life; accustomed as he bas been to the slowness with which, in more temperate climes, it recovers from the torpidity of winter. His journeying is slow, laborious, and even painful; contending, as he is obliged to do, against the endless rapids that oppose the progress of his slight canoe; toiling through pathless thickets, or climbing the rugged mountain's side. Should he, wben exhausted by fatigue, seek shelter from the blaze of the meridian sun, the silence that reigns throughout the deep and interminable pine-forests is interrupted by the loud bum of myriads of the insect tribe which disturb bis slumbers; while their incessant attacks are directed against him equally during the noontide beat and the midnight glare. If, during what would be night in other climes, he repose himself on the banks of the broad Tornea river, and be lulled to sleep by the murmurings of the distant rapids, his slumber is no sooner broken than his eye is caught by the dazzling beams of the sun high above the northern horizon, and bringing forcibly to his mind the recollection, that he is far from those countries where the approach of evening is announced by the deep glow of the western sky, and midnight is devoted to obscurity. How different is the scene that is presented to the winter traveller, whose course throughout the day is illumined by the pale moon, while at night ten thousand meteors serve him for torches, as lashed in his boat, with his eye directed to the starry vault of heaven, he lightly glides with swift and silent steps along the trackless snows of the north.-De Capell Brooke's Winter in Lapland.