Poetry for Children.

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THE HUMMING-BIRD.

Emerald-plumed, ruby-throated,
Flashing like a fair star
Where the humid, dew-becoated,
Sun-illumined blossoms are—­
See the fleet humming-bird! 
Hark to his humming, heard
Loud as the whirr of a fairy king’s car! 
Sightliest, sprightliest, lightest, and brightest one,
Child of the summer sun,
Shining afar!

Brave little humming-bird! 
Every eye blesses thee;
Sunlight caresses thee,
Forest and field are the fairer for thee. 
Blooms, at thy coming stirred,
Bend on each brittle stem,
Nod to the little gem,
Bow to the humming-bird, frolic and free. 
Now around the woodbine hovering,
Now the morning-glory covering,
Now the honeysuckle sipping,
Now the sweet clematis tipping,
Now into the bluebell dipping;
Hither, thither, flashing, bright’ning,
Like a streak of emerald lightning: 
Round the box, with milk-white plox;
Round the fragrant four-o’-clocks;
O’er the crimson quamoclit,
Lightly dost thou wheel and flit;
Into each tubed throat
Dives little Ruby-throat.

Bright-glowing airy thing,
Light-going fairy thing,
Not the grand lyre-bird
Rivals thee, splendid one!—­
Fairy-attended one,
Green-coated fire-bird! 
Shiniest fragile one,
Tiniest agile one,
Falcon and eagle tremble before thee! 
Dim is the regal peacock and lory,
And the pheasant, iridescent,
Pales before the gleam and glory
Of the jewel-change incessant,
When the sun is streaming o’er thee!

Hear thy soft humming,
Like a sylph’s drumming!

Californian.

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THE HUMMING-BIRD’S WEDDING

    A little brown mother-bird sat in her nest,
    With four sleepy birdlings tucked under her breast,
    And her querulous chirrup fell ceaseless and low,
    While the wind rocked the lilac-tree nest to and fro.

    “Lie still, little nestlings! lie still while I tell,
    For a lullaby story, a thing that befell
    Your plain little mother one midsummer morn,
    A month ago, birdies—­before you were born.

    “I’d been dozing and dreaming the long summer night,
    Till the dawn flushed its pink through the waning moonlight;
    When—­I wish you could hear it once!—­faintly there fell
    All around me the silvery sound of a bell.

    “Then a chorus of bells!  So, with just half an eye,
    I peeped from the nest, and those lilies close by,
    With threads of a cobweb, were swung to and fro
    By three little rollicking midgets below.

    “Then the air was astir as with humming-birds’ wings! 
    And a cloud of the tiniest, daintiest things
    That ever one dreamed of, came fluttering where
    A cluster of trumpet-flowers swayed in the air.