The largest and the longest kind
Possess the foremost page

A sort most needed by the blind,
Or nearly such from age.

The full charg'd leaf, which next ensues,
Presents in bright array

The smaller sort, which matrons use,
Not quite so blind as they.

The third, the fourth, the fifth supply
What their occasions ask,
Who with a more discerning eye
Perform a nicer task.

But still with regular decrease
From size to size they fall,
In every leaf grow less and less;
The last are least of all.

O! what a fund of genius, pent
In narrow space is here!
This volume's method and intent

How luminous and clear!

It leaves no reader at a loss
Or posed, whoever reads:

No commentator's tedious gloss,
Nor even index needs.

Search Bodley's many thousands o'er!

No book is treasured there,

Nor yet in Granta's numerous store,

That may with this

compare.

No! -rival none in either host

Of this was ever seen,
Or, that contents could justly boast,
So brilliant and so keen.

AN ENIGMA.

A NEEDLE, small as small can be,
In bulk and use surpasses me,

Nor is my purchase dear;
For little, and almost for nought,
many of my kind are bought
As days are in the year.

As

Yet though but little use we boast,
And are procured at little cost,
The labour is not light;

Nor few artificers it asks,

All skilful in their several tasks,
To fashion us aright.

One fuses metal o'er the fire,
A second draws it into wire,

The sheers another plies;

Who clips in length the brazen thread
From him who, chafing every shred,
Gives all an equal ɛize.

A fifth prepares, exact and round,
The knob with which it must be crown'd;

His follower makes it fast:

And with his mallet and his file
To shape the point, employs awhile
The seventh and the last.

Now, therefore, Edipus! declare
What creature, wonderful, and rare,
A process that obtains

Its

purpose with so much ado
At last produces!—tell me true,
And take me for your pains!

SPARROWS SELF-DOMESTICATED IN TRINITY

COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE.

NONE ever shared the social feast,
Or as an inmate or a guest,

Beneath the celebrated dome

Where once Sir Isaac had his home,
Who saw not (and with some delight
Perhaps he view'd the novel sight)
How numerous, at the tables there,
The sparrows beg their daily fare.
For there, in every nook and cell
Where such a family may dwell,
Sure as the vernal season comes

Their nest they weave in hope of crumbs,
Which kindly given, may serve with food
Convenient their unfeather'd brood;

And oft as with its summons clear

The warning bell salutes their ear,

Sagacious listeners to the sound,
They flock from all the fields around,
To reach the hospitable hall,

None more attentive to the call.
Arrived, the pensionary band,
Hopping and chirping, close at hand,
Solicit what they soon receive,
The sprinkled, plenteous donative.
Thus is a multitude, though large,
Supported at a trivial charge;
A single doit would overpay
The expenditure of every day,
And who can grudge so small a grace
To suppliants, natives of the place?

FAMILIARITY DANGEROUS.

As in her ancient mistress' lap
The youthful tabby lay,

They gave each other many a tap,
Alike disposed to play.

But strife ensues.

Puss waxes warm,

And with protruded claws

Ploughs all the length of Lydia's arm,

Mere wantonness the cause.

At once, resentful of the deed,

She shakes her to the ground

With many a threat that she shall bleed With still a deeper wound.

But, Lydia, bid thy fury rest:
It was a venial stroke:

For she that will with kittens jest
Should bear a kitten's joke.

INVITATION TO THE REDBREAST.

SWEET bird, whom the winter constrainsAnd seldom another it can—

To seek a retreat while he reigns

In the well-shelter'd dwellings of man,

Who never can seem to intrude,

Though in all places equally free,

Come, oft as the season is rude,

Thou art sure to be welcome to me.

At sight of the first feeble

ray

That pierces the clouds of the east,

To inveigle thee every day

My windows shall show thee a feast. For, taught by experience, I know, Thee mindful of benefit long; And that, thankful for all I bestow, Thou wilt pay me with many a song.

Then, soon as the swell of the buds

Bespeaks the renewal of spring,

Fly hence, if thou wilt, to the woods,

Or where it shall please thee to sing