And harsh, yet in accordance with the waves
  Upon the beech, the winds in caverns moaning,
  Or winds and waves abroad upon the water. 
  Some sought their food among the finny shoals,
  Swift darting from the clouds, emerging soon
  With slender captives glittering in their beaks;
  These in recesses of steep crags constructed
  Their eyries inaccessible, and train’d
  Their hardy broods to forage in all weathers;
  Others, more gorgeously apparell’d, dwelt
  Among the woods, on Nature’s dainties feeding,
  Herbs, seeds, and roots; or, ever on the wing,
  Pursuing insects through the boundless air: 
  In hollow trees or thickets these conceal’d
  Their exquisitely woven nests; where lay
  Their callow offspring, quiet as the down
  On their own breasts, till from her search the dam
  With laden bill return’d, and shared the meal
  Among the clamorous suppliants, all agape;
  Then, cowering o’er them with expanded wings,
  She felt how sweet it is to be a mother. 
  Of these, a few, with melody untaught,
  Turn’d all the air to music within hearing,
  Themselves unseen; while bolder quiristers
  On loftier branches strain’d their clarion-pipes,
  And made the forest echo to their screams
  Discordant,—­yet there was no discord there,
  But temper’d harmony:  all tones combining,
  In the rich confluence often thousand tongues,
  To tell of joy and to inspire it.  Who
  Could hear such concert, and not join in chorus? 
  Not I;—­sometimes entranced, I seem’d to float
  Upon a buoyant sea of sounds:  again
  With curious ear I tried to disentangle
  The maze of voices, and with eye as nice
  To single out each minstrel, and pursue
  His little song through all its labyrinth,
  Till my soul enter’d into him, and felt
  Every vibration of his thrilling throat,
  Pulse of his heart, and flutter of his pinions. 
  Often, as one among the multitude,
  I sang from very fulness of delight;
  Now like a winged fisher of the sea,
  Now a recluse among the woods,—­enjoying
  The bliss of all at once, or each in turn.

* * * * *

RAPIDS OF NIAGARA.

The Rapids begin about half a mile above the cataract; and although the breadth of the river might at first make them appear of little importance, a nearer inspection will convince the stranger of their actual size, and the terrific danger of the passage.  The inhabitants of the neighbourhood regard it as certain death to get once involved in them; and that, not merely because all escape from the cataract would be hopeless, but because the violent force of the water among the rocks in the channel, would instantly dash the bones of a man in pieces.  Instances are on record of persons being carried down by the stream; indeed there was an instance of two men carried over in March last;