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Of nearly two hundred species of birds, the greater number are undescribed. Of the fishes of Mexico and its coast, Mr. Bullock's catalogue embraces between two and three hundred species. It is to be regretted, that several living animals, new or little known in Europe, have not borne our climate. A cabinet of minerals completes the collections belonging to the different kingdoms of nature. This vast

mass of materials, assembled by the proprietor in so short a space of time, sufficiently attests the enterprising spirit and industry of our countryman; and cannot fail to afford equal gratification to the lounger in search of amusement, and to the man of science desirous of obtaining more intimate knowledge respecting a country of which we are still in a state of comparative ignorance.

Poetry.

SORROW'S ADDRESS TO THE Still soften wretchedness and pain;

POPPY.

By J. M. LACEY.

FAREWELL, bright rose! thy charms no more To this sad breast are dear;

Though once I thought thy lovely flow'r

The best of all the year.

Farewell to ev'ry other gem

That blooms in summer's hour!
I court a weed, whose rougher stem
Yet bears a brilliant flow'r.

To thee, red poppy, now I pay
A willing bosom's theme;
For thou hast sooth'd my sickly day
With many a happy dream:
Hast stol'n away the canker grief,

And bid those moments cease,
That seem'd too sad to hope relief,
Till thou didst bring me peace.
E'en pain before thy pow'r has fled;
The eye, unclos'd before,

Has shut in sleep, so deep and dead,
As though 'twould wake no more.
These are thy potent charmful pow'rs;
For these I love thee then,

Still give those dreamy hours,

That seem like health return'd again, Thou best of Nature's flow'rs!

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That swept o'er flow'ry mead, o'er blossom'd spray,

And gardens rich in Nature's choicest sweets,
Dispeus'd its odours to the ravish'd sense.
Above, the azure canopy of heav'n,
Whose bright serenity no vapour dimm'd—

Thou worst of weeds, thou best of flow'rs-Below, the rippling waters, that appear'd

Thou foe and friend of meu.

For though thy soothings are divine,
When man but seeks thy use,

Yet sometimes madness may incline
To deep and dire abuse.

His own, or else another's life,
Before thy pow'r may fall:
Murd'rous, or suicidal strife,
For punishment must call.

Yet the great good thou dost, bright weed,

Is more than all thy harm:

Hail then, red poppy! take thy meed;
I own thy pow'rful charm.

With gentle care the vessel to support,
As a fond mother clasps her lovely babe,
Foretold a speedy issue of their hopes.
Far greater joy
Inspir'd their souls than spring or youth can
yield.

They sought their native land. Thro' years of toil

The thoughts of those they lov'd, whose ardent prayers

Were breath'd alone for them, made labour light.

Delightful thought, on which the adventurer

feeds,

Who braves the horrors of the rugged north,
Or pants beneath the sun's meridian ray,
In Afric's torrid zone.

A dark'ning speck Now veil'd the horizon-larger it becameDarker it grew-it spread, o'ershadowing The beautiful blue sky. A murmuring Came on the wind—a piercing cry was heard, The storm - bird's scream-utter'd as if to

warn

The mariners of danger near at hand.
The oldest seaman, nurs'd in peril's lap,
Could not anticipate, without dismay,
The coming night. Sure omens of a storm-
A fearful storm-in terror they beheld.
The breeze increas'd-anon it died away.
A deathlike silence reign'd. As in array
Two hostile armies meet-a pause ensues-
Now the fierce onset the adjacent hills
Re-echo so with vengeful fury fraught
The tempest-winds arose to agitate
The bosom of the deep. The mountain waves
Now bore the vessel to the clouds, and now
She headlong sinks. A frightful gulf beneath
Yawns to receive her. Darkness reign'd

around:

The foaming billows, with a desperate sweep, Rush o'er the deck. At length the murky clouds

Discharge the pitiless torrent. All aghast, The wretched crew, mute, motionless, survey At intervals, when the red lightning's glare Illumes the horrid scene, impending death! Despair sat on each brow. With folded arms, Some ventur'd to address a prayer to heav'n, Who never pray'd before; while some, more stern,

With horrid imprecations curs'd the hour That gave them birth, The clam'rous gale but mock'd

Their idle lamentations. Yet once more The signal-gun was heard a last essayLife is still dear while hope of life remains: Deceitful hope! cloth'd like the queen of flow'rs

In beautiful attire, a deadly thorn

Lurks 'neath its sweets. Amid the fearful strife

Of battling elements, no pitying hand

Is stretch'd to save. Sudden the cries of death Are hush'd! 'Tis o'er! they sleep a peaceful sleep.

Not one escapes to tell their wretched lot. Ill-fated souls! scarce had their own blue cliffs

Welcom'd their earnest gaze. So near their homes,

Where many, many days they fondly deem'd
Of happiness and joy were yet in store,
To perish thus! Night clos'd the scene-the

morn

Saw fathers, mothers, wives, with hurried step

And dread suspense, traverse the sandy beach.

The storm had ceas'd-its dire effects appear'd

The shatter'd fragments of the luckless ship, The pallid corses of her hapless crew, Bestrew'd the calmer surface of the deep. Each wave impell'd some human form ashore. The once-lov'd features of an only son Parents recall'd, though time had wrought a change.

Wives sought their husbands, children sought their sires,

Maidens their lovers. Grief alone was seen In various shapes. Some wrung their hands, Some tore their hair, while some with frenzy

rav'd.

Some could not weep. The sweetest mourner there,

Beside a youthful corse poor Mary knelt. She press'd his clay-cold hand. Awhile her

heart,

In silent sorrow wrapt, knew no relief.
The fount of grief at length dissolv'd; the

tears

Cours'd down her cheeks. She look'd around amaz'd,

To find that misery reign'd in other hearts
Desolate as her own. "Now am I left

In the wide world without one friend!" she cried.

A smiling cherub on her breast repos'd—
A lovely boy, too young to know his loss:
Waking, he stretch'd to her his little hand;
The smile of innocence illum'd his face.
"Alone, said I? No, no; while thou art

left,

Dear image of thy sire, to bless my sight, For thee I'll live. I am a mother still!"

W. S.

Printed by L. Harrison, 373, Strand.

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EMBELLISHMENTS.

. 1. View of WANSTEAD-HOUSE, LATE THE SEAT OF W. P. T. LONG WELLESLEY, ESQ.

2.

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DELAFORD PARK, THE SEAT OF C. CLOWES, Esq.

3. LADIES' MORNING DRESS

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PRINTED FOR, AND PUblished by, R. ACKERMANN, 101, STRAND;
To whom Communications (post-paid) are requested to be addressed.
Printed by L. Harrison, 373, Strand.

TO READERS AND CORRESPONDENTS.

Publishers, Authors, Artists, and Musical Composers, are requested to transmit on or before the 15th of the month, Announcements of Works which they may have on hand, and we shall cheerfully insert them, as we have hitherto done, free of expense. New Musical Publications also, if a copy be addressed to the Publisher, shall be duly noticed in our Review; and Extracts from new Books, of a moderate length and of an interesting nature, suitable for our Selections, will be acceptable.

The length to which our department of the Fine Arts this month extends has obliged us to defer several articles intended for insertion in the present Number. Count Vivalda-J. F.-Felicité-Picture of a Princess, shall appear in our

next.

T. C. L.—F. V.-A Harmonist-Mechanicus, and Remarks on the State of Political Parties, are not suitable to the Repository.

Persons who reside abroad, and who wish to be supplied with this Work every Month as published, may have it sent to them, free of Postage, to New-York, Halifax, Quebec, and to any part of the West Indies, at £4 12s. per Annum, by Mr. THORNHILL, of the General Post-Office, at No. 21, Sherborne-lane; to Hamburgh, Lisbon, Cadiz, Gibraltar, Malta, or any Part of the Mediterranean, at £4 12s. per Annum, by Mr. SERJEANT, of the General Post-Office, at No. 22, Sherborne-lane; and to the Cape of Good Hope, or any part of the East Indies, by Mr. Guy, at the East-India House. The money to be paid at the time of subscribing, for either 3, 6, 9, or 12 months.

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