An Evening in Spring.
Now the noon,
Wearied with sultry toil, declines and falls
Into the mellow eve:—the west puts on
Her gorgeous beauties—palaces and halls
And towers, all carved of the unstable cloud
Welcome the calmy waning monarch—he
Sinks gently ’midst that glorious canopy
Down on his couch of rest—even like a proud
King of the earth—the ocean.
Bowring.
[90] Communicated by a scientific gentleman, whose daily observations and researches in Natural History, stamp value upon his contributions.
April 16.
Eighteen Martyrs of Saragossa, and St. Encratis, or Engratia, A. D. 304. St. Turibius, Bp. 420. St. Fructuosus, Abp. A. D. 665. St. Druon, or Drugo, A. D. 1186. St. Joachim of Sienna, A. D. 1305. St. Mans, or Magnus, A. D. 1104.
“The Venerable
Benedict Joseph Labre,
Who died in the odour of sanctity,
On the 16th of April, 1783.”
If such a creature as the venerable B. J. Labre can be called a man, he was one of the silliest that ever lived to creep and whine, and one of the dirtiest that ever “died in the odour of sanctity;” and yet, for the edification of the English, his life is translated from the French “by the rev. M. James Barnard, ex-president of the English college at Lisbon and Vicar General of the London district.”