This makes an aggregate of one hundred and sixteen species. To these may be added the following varieties, to wit: which, added to the number of the species, makes one hundred and twenty-five. To this enumeration I beg leave to add, that it by no means contains the whole. So far from it, that I know as a sportsman many kinds which have not yet been examined by me as a naturalist. And, as I am on the subject, I will just mention that I have made great progress in describing and classifying the cetaceous animals of this region. The crustaceous are also posted up to a very valuable amount. And the testaceous are collected and displayed before me, to the amount of sixty species for scientific enumeration. I ought not to close my letter without making my hearty ac knowledgments to Samuel Akerly and Samuel G. Mott, Esqs. for the prompt and zealous aid they have afforded me. Nor can I omit to make equally respectful mention of Mr. John Scudder, the proprietor of the Museum in New-York, for the liberality with which he has permitted me to inspect his collection.. I beg you to accept the assurance, Mr. Editor, of my high esteem and regard. SAMUEL L. MITCHILL. POETRY. For the Analectic Magazine. STANZAS, ON SEEING A PICTURE OF NEWSTEAD PARK, BELONGING TO A SEAT LATE THE PROPERTY OF THE RIGHT HONOURABLE LORD BYRON.* 1813. FROM Scenes like these, that far and wide, Rise and expand in sylvan pride, Where fickle man might find in range From hill to vale, congenial change; From scenes whose very hues impart Degenerate Gordon! not like thee Naught lur'd them from their native hall, But fatal honour's sternest call. Their only signal to depart, The beating of a loyal heart; That, when Culloden's crimson'd bed Ileav'd with the dying and the dead, Follow'd its guiding beams afar, Till set in blood the STUART STAR: * Since sold by his lordship. POETRY. Son of the Muse-celestial guide! Alas! for thou hast sold yet more Yet must the mind misgive thy lot, When, long sustain'd the various parts The pearl of the soul may be melted away."...Moore. 167 Be welcom'd by the well-known shade, From courts and camps, in groves like those, Thy hero, Blenheim! found repose. To breathe the calm that such inspire, Would awful Chatham's self retire. And sacred ever be the shade, Where, matchless Burke! thy form was laid, When, pond'ring all thy country's woes, The genius of Prescience rose, And spread such visions to thy sight, The mental sun not yet go down! Beside that bright and tranquil stream Yet mild as bright--O emblem meet! Where no defilement enters e'er, Seems scarce more fair, more calm, more clear. Byron! from this and could'st thou pass? Perchance because its faithful glass To thy inquiring glance has shown Features, the contrast of its own. For other images might find The dark wave lashing 'gainst the shore, The wild cascade's eternal roar, What scorns, or what maintains control, Suits the stern habit of thy soul. Where opes yon vista to disclose Deep blushing how th' horizon glows, 'Twere sweet to watch the sun descend, Like patriarch or like patriot's end. The radiance of whose parting light Gleams far athwart the grave's long night, And glances to that distant shore, Where suns arise, to set no more. |