The Work Of Nature In The Months.

Masters hand here , that Masters hand will g ive us a reward as shall give us for sorrow g ladness , and for mourning joy eternal ! The Moths , the Butterflies , the Beetles , and the others of the Insect world , as Avell too as the Birds , are far too numerous to mention ; we can only say that all may UOAV be found in plenty . These Avith many a flower ancl fern , many a shrub ancl tree must go unmentioned even , —those trees to which our English Poetess says : —

" We bless ye for your summer shade , When our Aveak limbs fail aud tire : Our thanks are due for your Aviuter aid . When pile the bright log fire . ****** In the rustic porch , the panelled Avail , In the gay triumphal car ; In the rude-built hutor the banquet-hall ;

, No matter there ye are ! ****** Then up AA'ith your heads ye sylvau lords , Wave proudly in the breeze ; From our cradle bands to our coffin boards , We ' re in debt to the Forest trees . "

From greatest then to least of all her works Nature invites our presence and our sympathy ; choice or compulsion , business or pleasure , may awhile enthrall us , but instinctivel y our longing soul turns to the calm deli ghts ancl the soothing beauties of the country ; once more , and for the last time , hear Eliza Cook : — " Take me to the hill side , take me to the rill-side ,

Where the scarlet pimpernel and starry daisies gi-OAV , Where the woodbine wreathing , greets the Zephyr ' s breathing , Where the foam-pearls dance upon the ripples as they flow . Take me to the valleys where thick , shaded alleys

Will lead me to red clover-fields and plains of yellow sheaves , And I'll sing to bees aud flowers , I'll tell the Avoodland bowers That the heart brings back its old love to the SAvetet , green leaves . " Take me Avhere the birds fly , take me Avhere the herds lie , Where the ring-dove nestles , and the browsing heifer lows , Where the brake will hide me from the fawn beside me , Where the pebbly runnel kisses Avild moss , reed , and rose .

Take me Avhere the sunlight only sheds a dim light , Where the arm of Lady Bivch Avith oak and alder Aveaves , And their branches bent Avith glory shall tell the same old story , That Bird and Poet sing the best ' mid sweet , green leaves . "

Need Ave say move in praise of Nature ' s g lories 1 No ! and Avell is it that it is so , for reluctantly enough do Ave lay down the pen that has guided us ancl our companions through this twelvemonth ' s round of beauties . But the time comes that Ave must part , and we can only take those lessons to heart that Ave have thus been reading for others out of Nature ' s book . Sorrowfully then do Ave turn us back from the pleasant companions of our rambles , and look alone once more upon our

field-friends"Earth's cultureless buds , to my heart ye AA'ere dear , Ere the fever of passion , or ague of fear , Had scathed my existence ' s bloom ; Once I Avelcome you more , in life ' s passionless stage , With the visions of youth to revisit my age , And I Avish you to gi-OAV on my tomb . " THE END .