They see the greenery of the swelling hills,
They hear, they hear the gush of bubbling rills!

Oh! beautiful that soul-enchanting scene!
The fresh leaves twinkling, and the wild-birds singing;
The rocks so mossy, and the grass so green,
From tree to tree the vine's young tendrils swinging:
Fruits of all hue--pomegranate, plum, and peach,
Tempting the eye, and thoughts luxurious bringing;
Flowers of all breath that each stray hand may reach,
The glittering bee among them blithely winging:
While skies more clear, more bluely seem to glow,
To match the bright and fairy scene below.

NICHOLAS MICHELL.


FOOTNOTES:

[1] Siwah, the Ammonia of the ancients, the most fertile of the Oases
of Libya, presenting a succession of undulating hills and green
meadows, watered by many springs, and producing every description of
fruit-bearing trees.




EVIL-SPEAKING.