a darling; but still insists,
that it is

'No bird; but an invisible thing,
A voice,--a mystery.' II. p. 58.

It is afterwards 'a hope;' and 'a love;' and, finally,

'O blessed _bird_! the earth we pace
Again appears to be
An unsubstantial, faery place,
That is fit home for thee!' II. p. 59.

After this there is an address to a butterfly, whom he invites to visit
him, in these simple strains--

'This plot of orchard-ground is ours;
My trees they are, my sister's flowers;
Stop here whenever you are weary.' II. p. 61.

We come next to a long story of a 'Blind Highland Boy,' who lived near
an arm of the sea, and had taken a most unnatural desire to venture on
that perilous element. His mother did all she could to prevent him; but
one morning, when the good woman was out of the way, he got into a
vessel of his own, and pushed out from the shore.

'In such a vessel ne'er before
Did human creature leave the shore.' II. p. 72.

And then we are told, that if the sea should get rough, 'a bee-hive
would be ship as safe.' 'But say, what is it?' a poetical interlocutor
is made to exclaim most naturally; and here followeth the answer, upon
which all the pathos and interest of the story depend.

'A HOUSEHOLD TUB, like one of those
Which women use to wash their clothes!!' II. p. 72.

This, it will be admitted, is carrying the matter as far as it will well
go; nor is there anything,--down to the wiping of shoes, or the
evisceration of chickens,--which may not be introduced in poetry, if
this is tolerated. A boat is sent out and brings the boy ashore, who
being tolerably frightened we suppose, promises to go to sea no more;
and so the story ends.

Then we have a poem, called 'the Green Linnet,' which opens with the
poet's telling us;

'A whispering leaf is now my joy,
And then a bird will be the _toy_
That doth my fancy _tether_.' II. p. 79.

and closes thus--

'While thus before my eyes he gleams,
A brother of the leaves he seems;
When in a moment forth _he teems_
His little song in gushes:
As if it pleas'd him to disdain
And mock the form which he did feign,
While he was dancing with the train
Of leaves among the bushes.' II. p. 81.

The next is called 'Star Gazers.' A set of people peeping through a
telescope, all seem to come away disappointed with the sight; whereupon
thus sweetly moralizeth our poet.