The Moon will be eclipsed on the 21st of this month; but the eclipse will be invisible in this country, as will be evident from the following statement.

End of the eclipse

Afternoon.
h. m. 5.
1 35 36

2 35 15

3 16 15

3 18 45

.........................

Digits eclipsed 17° 13' from the south side of the Earth's shadow.

Moon's Passage over the Meridian.

The following transits of the Moon will afford opportunities of observing her on the meridian during the present month, should the atmosphere in that direction be free from clouds.

Time of High Water at London for every fifth Day. In addition to the times given in the following Table, those for any of the intermediate days may be found in the usual way, as well as the hours for several other places, by adding or subtracting the numbers given for that purpose under the same head for the month of January in the present volume.

PHENOMENA PLANETARUM.
Phases of Venus.

The following are the proportional breadths of the parts of the disk, at the beginning of this month, viz. Illuminated part = 11·682

May 1st, Dark part.

= 0.318

Eclipses of Jupiter's Satellites.

The following are the eclipses of the first and second of these satellites which will happen during this month:

First Satellite 1st day, at 51 m. 18 s. after 8 in the evening

Second Satellite

8th

45..53

16th............ 40 29

24th

...

3 48

...

31st.................... 58 28

...

............

............

............

10 .............. 0 in the morning 9 in the evening

10

Ist ............ 31 22............10

9th

8 42

............

........ ......

1 in the morning

Conjunction of the Moon with the Planets and Stars.

Jupiter will be stationary on the 1st. Mars will be in opposition at 7 in the morning of the 5th. Mercury will be stationary on the 7th, and attain his greatest elongation on the 22d. Jupiter will be in quadrature at 45 minutes after 8 in the morning of the 27th; and Venus and Saturn will be in conjunction at 2 in the morning of the 25th.

NOCHE SERENA.

[From the Spanish of Luis de Leon.]

I gaze upon yon orbs of light,

The countless stars that gem the sky;"
Each in its sphere, serenely bright,
Wheeling its course-how silently!

While in the mantle of the night

Earth and its cares and troubles lie. Temple of light and loveliness,

And throne of grandeur! can it be
That souls whose kindred loftiness
Nature hath framed to rise to thee,
Should pine within this narrow place,
This prison of mortality?

What madness from the path of right
For ever leads our steps astray,
That, reckless of thy pure delight,
We turn from this divine array,
To chase a shade that mocks the sight-
A good that vanisheth away?
Man slumbers heedless on, nor feels,
To 'dull forgetfulness a prey,'
The rolling of the rapid wheels
That calls the restless hours away;
While ev'ry passing moment steals
His less'ning span of life away.
Awake, ye mortals! raise your eyes
To yon eternal starry spheres-
Look on these glories of the skies!
Then answer how this world appears,

With all its pomps and vanities,

With all its hopes and all its fears.

What, but a spark of earth at last,
Amidst th' illimitable sky,

A point that sparkles in the vast
Effulgence of yon galaxy,

In whose mysterious rounds the past,
The present, and the future lie.
Who can look forth upon this blaze

Of heav'nly lamps, so brightly shining;
Through th' unbounded void of space,
A hand unseen their course assigning,
All moving with unequal pace,

Yet in harmonious concord joining: Who sees the silver chariot move

Of the bright Moon, and, gliding slow,

The Star whose lustre from above
Rains influence on the world below;
Or the resplendent Queen of Love
So bright and beautifully glow:

Or where the angry God of War
Rolls redder on his troubled way,
Beyond the mild majestic star

That o'er the gods of old held sway,
That beams his radiance from afar,

And calms the heav'ns beneath his sway:

Where Saturn shows his distant beam,
Sire of the golden days of yore,
Or where the starry host, that seem
Thick as the sands that line the shore,
From their eternal seats a stream
Of glory and of radiance pour :

Who that has seen the splendours roll,
And gazed on this majestic scene,
But sighed t' escape the world's control,
Spurning its pleasures poor and mean,
To burst the bands that bind the soul,
And pass the gulf that yawns between?

There, in their starry halls of rest,

Sweet Peace and Joy their homes have made;
There, in the mansions of the blest,
Diviner Love his throne hath laid,

With ever-during glory graced,
And bliss that cannot fly nor fade.

O boundless beauty! let thy ray
Shine out unutterably bright;
Thou placid, pure, eternal day,
That never darken'st into night;
Thou spring, whose evergreen array
Knows not the wasting winter blight.

O fields of never-dying green,
Bright with innumerable flow'rs!
O crystal rills that glide between!
O shady vales and sunny bow'rs!
Hath mortal eye these glories seen,

Yet clung to such a world as our's!

At this season of the year, the rising of the Moon is frequently attended by a calmness and serenity, which can only be enjoyed by those who quit the busy haunts of men, and contemplate Nature in all the majesty of her silent grandeur.

In the East

The changeful Moon, sweet empress of the skies,
In full refulgence rises; o'er her face

A crimson blush appears like damsel fair
When by admiring crowds first gazed upon:
Touched by her wizard ray, a landscape new
Springs up to light, in magic colouring decked,
Beyond the painter's art to imitate.

Silver the mountain seems, silver all

The warbling brooklets and the wav'ring floods,
Wherein from her high throne night's peerless queen
With conscious pride her charms reflected views,
That dim each varied sign around the pole.
The grove, as to the whispering wind it bows,
A shade o'er all its sleeping flow'rets casts
Bedropped with golden spangles.

PENNIE'S Royal Minstrel.

The Naturalist's Diary

For MAY 1826.

Welcome, pure thoughts, welcome ye silent groves,
These guests, these courts my soul most dearly loves:
Now the winged people of the sky shall sing
My cheerful anthems to the gladsome SPRING :
A prayer-book now shall be my looking glass,
In which I will adore sweet Virtue's face.
Here dwell no hateful looks, no palace cares,
No broken vows dwell here, nor pale-faced fears:
Then here I'll sit, and sigh my lost love's folly,
And learn t' affect an holy melancholy :
And if contentment be a stranger,-then
I'll ne'er look for it, but in Heaven again.

SIR H. WOTTON.

THERE is something revivifying in this season of the year-a gaiety and mirthfulness of which all God's creatures more or less partake. A thousand joyous feelings are associated with the smell of hawthorn, and the sight of the bright green trees, and the sound of the notes of the sweet singing birds; and the daisies and cowslips spangle the surface of the grassy fields, and the playful butterflies wanton in the glittering sunbeams. To wander at will, in the earliest hours of spring (as it is beautifully observed by Mr. Wiffen,