animal and vegetable matter, diluted with water, are absorbed by plants, and constitute a portion of the nourishment by which they are maintained; plants in their turn become the food of animals, and these again the prey of others which subsist on flesh. In spite of this perpetual state of war and destruction, nothing perishes, for all is regenerated. Nature has ordained that the two great divisions of organized beings should depend the one upon the other for support, and that both the life and death of individuals should be equally serviceable in keeping up the races of them.

The arrival of the swallow, about the middle of this month, foretels the approach of summer, whose coming, however, is too often retarded by the return of Winter in angry mood, hurling his last hailstorms at the proud-pied' and flower-wreathed head of April.

After the swallow, the next bird that appears is the nightingale (Motacilla luscinia), whose praises have been chaunted by poets of every clime, and have occupied many a page in this month's Diary of our previous volumes. In our climate, the nightingale seldom sings above six weeks, generally commencing the last week in April.

To the NIGHTINGALE.

Sweet warbler! still thy song divine
Is heard within the midnight grove,
Where Milton, tuned to notes like thine,
Was wont in former time to rove,
And listen to the lay of love,
That poured like nectar on his ear,
While Echo from her shell above
Responds in accents softly clear.

And still, as erst to make him hear
The music of thy charming voice,
Bears it beyond the starry sphere,
To join the chorus of the skies.
And hark! I ween those notes may rise,
Unquestioned, to that holy place,
Where chaunt the birds of Paradise,
All rapturous in the realms of grace.

Sweet warbler! to thy liquid lays,
That fall like nectar on my ear,

My heart bath long been pledged to raise
Some tribute of affection dear;

But not the drip of fountains clear,
Nor lyric odes those founts among,
In sweetness, fulness, power, compeer
The native passion of thy song.

Il Pastore Incantato.

That beautiful bird the wryneck next makes its appearance, preceding the cuckoo by a few days,whose note that tells of the advancing Spring, and its floral pleasures, is hailed with delight by every lover of Nature.

Hark to the merry Gossip of the Spring

The sweet mysterious voice which peoples place
With an Italian beauty, and does bring
As 'twere Elysium from the wilds of space
Where'er her wing inhabits! give it chase,
In other bow'rs the Fairy shouts again;
Where'er we run it mocks our rapid race-
Still the same loose note in a golden chain

Rings through the vocal woods, and fills with joy the plain.
Hail to thee, shouting CUCKOO! in my youth
Thou wert long time the Ariel of my hope,
The marvel of a Summer! it did soothe
To listen to thee on some sunny slope,
Where the high oaks forbade an ampler scope
Than of the blue skies upward-and to sit,
Canopied, in the gladd'ning horoscope
Which thou my planet flung-a pleasant fit,
Long time my hours endeared, my kindling faney smit.
And thus I love thee still-thy monotone

The self-same transport flashes through my frame;
And when thy voice, sweet Sybil, all is flown
My eager ear, I cannot choose but blame.

O may the world these feelings never tame!
If age o'er me her silver tresses spread,
I still would call thee by a lover's name,
And deem the spirit of delight unfled,

Nor bear, though grey without, a heart to Nature dead!

WIFFEN'S Aonian Hours.

The other summer birds of passage which arrive this month, make their appearance in the follow

ing order: the ring-ousel; the redstart, frequenting old walls and ruinous edifices; the yellow wren, the swift, the white throat, the grasshopper lark, the smallest of the lark kind; and the willow wren, which, as well as the house-wren, destroys many pernicious insects. The kite now approaches farmhouses and villages, in search of food and materials for constructing his nest; at other times, unless pinched by hunger, he cautiously avoids man, and all his haunts. See T. T. for 1824, p. 128.

In April, or early in the next month, the lapwing, or pee-wit (Tringa vanellus), lays her eggs, and sits, for she makes no nest. A few pairs will retire to heaths, downs, or ploughed fields during the season of incubation, but the greater portion of them fix their stations upon the banks of the dikes of marshes, or the great drains in our fenny districts. The feathered tribe are now busily engaged in forming their temporary habitations, and in rearing and maintaining their offspring.

The vine expands its empurpled leaves. Honesty, or moonwort, is in flower; and the new sprung leaves of the sweet chesnut, in their turn, are playing in the breeze.

Various kinds of insects are observed in this month; as the jumping spider, seen on garden walls; and the webs of other species of spiders are found on the bushes, palings, and outsides of houses. The Iulus terrestris appears, and the death-watch beats early in the month. The wood-ant begins to construct its large conical nest. Little maggots, the first state of young ants, are now to be found in their nests. The shell-snail comes out in troops; and the stinging-fly and the red-ant appear.

The mole cricket is the most remarkable of the insect tribe seen about this time. The blue flesh

fly, and the dragon-fly, are frequently observed towards the end of the month. The great variegated Libellula, which appears, principally, towards the

The

decline of summer, is an animal of singular beauty. The cabbage butterfly, also, now appears. black slug abounds at this season. (For the best mode of destroying them, see T.T. for 1821, p. 129.) Of the beetle tribe now on the wing, the Scolytus destructor may be noticed for its extraordinary powers of injuring trees. It is described, in Kirby and Spence's Introduction to Entomology, as feeding on the soft inner bark only, and as making its attacks in such vast numbers, that 80,000 have been found on a single tree. The leaves of the trees infested become yellow; the trees themselves die at the top, and soon entirely perish. Their ravages have been long known in Germany, and the insect is formally mentioned in the old liturgies of that country.

'The dung of animals swarms at this season with minute Coleoptera; several species of the Lepidoptera will also be found by carefully inspecting garden pales, gates in lanes, &c. Many species of bees may be seen sucking the pollen from the sallow which blossoms at this season, Sand and gra

vel pits should be carefully examined, and under the stones and clods of earth many insects will be discovered.'-Samouelle's Introduction to British Entomology, p. 315.

The progress of vegetation is general and rapid in this month. The sloe puts forth its elegant flowers; a host of others follow, among which may be named the ash, ground-ivy, and the box-tree. The wild and garden-cherry, the plum, gooseberry and currant trees, the sycamore, the apricot, and the nectarine, are in flower:-the garden now is full of Crimson hues

Of the first tint, by April brought

To the sweet peach-bud.

The blossoms of the apple and pear present to the eye a most agreeable spectacle, particularly in those counties which abound with orchards. The almond-tree, whose blush-colour blossoms make their

appearance before any leaves are seen, is among the earliest of the flowering fruit-trees, and forms a splendid ornament to the shrubbery in the months of March or April. It deserves notice on another account;-its fragile beauties are thus beautifully sung by the modern Sappho.

To the ALMond Tree.
Fleeting and falling,
Where is the bloom
Of you fair almond tree?
It is sunk to its tomb.

Its tomb, wheresoever

The wind may have borne
The leaves and the blossoms,
Its roughness has torn.
Some there are floating

On yon fountain's breast,-
Some line the moss

Of the nightingale's nest,-
Some are just strewn

O'er the green grass below,
And there they lie stainless,
As winter's first snow.
Yesterday, on the boughs

They hung scented and fair;

To-day, they are scattered

The breeze best knows where.

To-morrow, those leaves

Will be scentless and dead,

For the kind to lament,

And the careless to tread.

And is it not thus

With each hope of the heart?

With all its best feelings

Thus will they depart.

They'll go forth to the world
On the wings of the air,

Rejoicing and hoping,

But what will be there?

False lights to deceive,
False friends to delude,
Till the heart, in its sorrow,
Left only to brood;→→