Original Poetry.

Colonist, Issue 3, 30 October 1857, Page 3

Original Poetry.

ALL HAIL TO " THE COLONIST!" j The CotiONisT in such an age, (When thro' each book, and leaf and psge, '. We search for variation), Wo cannot wish but such success „ As ever greeted from the press, Th>; paper of a Nation. News! news! indeed, 'tis very true That ev'rything must needs be new, To claim the world's attention ; Were we with " old " content to rest, i Pr.iv where would be the happy test ' Of genius and invention? News! news! with welcome ever met, ■ (At l:ast was nu'er discovered yet, One at thy visits sneezing), Then Coi-omst, thou'rt welcome here, Thrice welcome, —for a treble cheer Must ever hail what* pleasing. With what impatience we all wait When Mercury with news is late, Yet " better late thin never; " For greetings kind, it cannot I'iil, Then. Colonist, all hc.il, all hail, The C )loxist for ever! WELL WISHER. Nelson, October 2fith. THE ASS AND THIS NIGHTINGALE. (From the Russian of Koilow.) An ass a nightingale espied, And shouted out,' Holloa ! Holloa! good friend, Thou art a first-rate singer, they pretend:— Now 1 ;fc m •, he'.r t!u;e, tlut [ may docidf; I really wish to know—the world is partial ever—If thou hast this great gift, and art indeed .so clever. Tivj nightingale begin her heavenly lays Through all tin; regions of swsut mu-ue ranging, Varying her song a thousand different ways; R sing and falling lingering ever changing : Full of wild rapture now- then sinking oft To almost sil.-nec—melancholy, soft, As distant shepherd's pips at evening's close : Strewing the wood wit'i lovelier music ;—there All lutur.', seems to listen and repose: No zephyr dares disturb the tranquil air:— All other voices of the grove arc still; And the charm'd flocks lay down bsiide the rill. The shepherd like a statue stands—afraid His breathing may disturb the nvslody, His finger pointing to the harmonious tree, Seems to say, ' Listen !' to his favorite maid. The inger end?d:—and our critic bow'd His reverend head to earth, and said aloud :— ' Now that's so so; thou really hast some in'irit, Curtail thy song and critics then nrght hear. Thy-voice wants sharpness:—but if chanticleer Would give thee a few lessons, doubtless he Might raise thy voice and moderate thy ear; And thou in spite of al! thy faults, may'st be A very decent singer.' The poor bird In silent modesty the critic heard, And wingM. her peaceful flight into the air, O'er many and many a field,and forest fair. Many such critics you and I have seen — Heaven be our screen! Bowßixe.