Graham's Magazine, Vol. XXXIV, No. 4, April 1849Various
General
Graham's Magazine, Vol. XXXIV, No. 4, April 1849
Various
Literature -- Periodicals; Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals
Latham admits that the notes of the Cardinal “are almost equal to those
of the Nightingale,” the sweetest of the feathered minstrels of Europe.
But, says Nuttall, “the style of their performance is wholly different.
The bold martial strains of the Red Bird, though relieved by tender and
exquisite touches, possess not the enchanting pathos, the elevated and
varied expression of the far-famed Philomel, nor yet those contrasted
tones, which, in the solemn stillness of the growing night, fall at
times into a soothing whisper, or slowly rise and quicken into a loud
and cheering warble.”
The Cardinal Bird measures eight inches in length, and eleven from the
tip of one wing to that of the other. The whole upper parts are of a
dull dusky-red, except the sides of the neck, head and lower parts,
which are of a clear vermilion. The chin, front and lores black. The
head is ornamented with a high pointed crest. The bill is coral red, and
the legs and feet are pale ash color. The female is somewhat less than
the male, and a little different in color. Both sexes are noted for
affection to their young, and to each other; but so jealous are the
males that they have often been known to destroy those of their own sex.
* * * * *
JENNY LIND.
BY MISS M. SAWIN.
A world’s sweet enchantress, unbounded in fame,
O how shall I sing of so peerless a name—
Thy tones, from the wilds of a picturesque land,
The billows of ocean have borne to our strand;
Though I ne’er have beheld thee, yet bound in thy spell,
My bosom thine echoes still onward would swell—
Would enshrine in my song the sweet soul of thy strains,
Till fresh incense should rise from our mountains and plains.
Though long on the altar thou’st kindled the fire,
Oh how shall it burn on the strings of the lyre!
’Tis the music of Nature sublimed in thy lays
Which has won thee thy guerdon of lore and of praise;
’Tis hence that the depths of the spirit it thrills,
That responses start forth from mountains and hills,
That no barriers the flight of thine echoes can bind,
Which are borne o’er the earth on the wings of the wind.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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