And though of some plumes bereft,
With that sun, too, nearly set,
I've enough of light and wing still left
For a few gay soarings yet.

GO, THEN-'TIS VAIN.
Sicilian Air.

Go, then-'tis vain to hover
Thus round a hope that's dead-
At length my dream is over,

'Twas sweet-'twas false-'tis fled ! Farewell; since nought it moves thee,

Such truth as mine to see,Some one, who far less loves thee, Perhaps more blest will be.

Farewell, sweet eyes, whose brightness
New life around me shed!
Farewell, false heart, whose lightness
Now leaves me death instead!
Go, now, those charms surrender
To some new lover's sigh,
One who, though far less tender,
May be more blest than I.

BRIGHT BE THY DREAMS!
Welsh Air.

BRIGHT be thy dreams-may all thy weeping

Turn into smiles while thou art sleeping:

Those by death or seas removed, Friends, who in thy spring-time knew thee,

All thou'st ever prized or loved, In dreams come smiling to thee!

There may the child, whose love lay deepest,

Dearest of all, come while thou sleepest:

Still the same-no charm forgotNothing lost that life had given;

Or, if changed, but changed to what Thou'lt find her yet in Heaven!

THE CRYSTAL HUNTERS,

Swiss Air.

O'ER mountains bright with snow and light,

We Crystal Hunters speed along, While grots and caves, and icy waves, Each instant echo to our song; And when we meet with stores of gems, We grudge not kings their diadems. O'er mountains bright with snow and light,

We Crystal Hunters speed along, While grots and caves, and icy waves, Each instant echo to our song.

No lover half so fondly dreams

Of sparkles from his lady's eyes, As we of those refreshing gleams

That tell where deep the crystal lies; Though, next to crystal, we too grant That ladies' eyes may most enchant. O'er mountains, etc.

Sometimes, when o'er the Alpine rose
The golden sunset leaves its ray,
So like a gem the floweret glows,

We thither bend our headlong way; And though we find no treasure there, We bless the rose that shines so fair. O'er mountains, etc.

ROW GENTLY HERE.,
Venetian Air.

Row gently here, my gondolier; so softly wake the tide,

That not an ear on earth may hear, but hers to whom we glide.

Had Heaven but tongues to speak, as

well as starry eyes to see, Oh! think what tales 'twould have to

tell of wandering youths like me! Now rest thee here, my gondolier;

hush, hush, for up I go,

To climb yon light balcony's height,

while thou keep'st watch below. Ah! did we take for heaven above but half such pains as we

Take day and night for woman's love, what angels we should be!

Whispering of joys that yet remain

Oh! what a vision then came o'er me! Long years of love, of calm and pure

delight,

Seemed in that smile to pass before me, Ne'er did the peasant dream, ne'er

dream of summer skies,

Of golden fruit and harvests springing, With fonder hope than I of those sweet

Sicilian Air.

WHEN thou shalt wander by that sweet light

We used to gaze on so many an eve, When love was new and hope was bright,

Ere I could doubt or thou deceiveOh! then remembering how swift went by

Those hours of transport, even thou may'st sigh.

Yes, proud one! even thy heart may

Own

That love like ours was far too sweet

Aside when past the summer's heat; And wish in vain to know again Such days, such nights as bless'd thee then.

WHO'LL BUY MY LOVE-KNOTS?

Portuguese Air.

HYMEN late, his love-knots selling,
Called at many a maiden's dwelling:
None could doubt who saw or knew
them,
Hymen's call was welcome to them.
'Who'll buy my love-knots?
Who'll buy my love-knots?'
Soon as that sweet cry resounded,
How his baskets were surrounded!

Maids who now first dreamed of trying
These gay knots of Hymen's tying;
Dames, who long had sat to watch him
Pessing by, but ne'er could catch him;-

'Who'll buy my love-knots ? Who'll buy my love-knots ? All at that sweet cry assembled ; Some laughed, some blushed, and some

trembled.

While old Hymen, who was used to Cries like that these dames gave loose

to

"Take back our love-knots! Take back our love-knots!' Coolly said, 'There's no returning Wares on Hymen's hands-Good morn. ing!'

SEE, THE DAWN FROM HEAVEN.
Sung at Rome on Christmas Eve.
SEE, the dawn from heaven is breaking
o'er our sight,

And earth, from sin awaking, hails the light!

See, those groups of Angels, winging from the realms above,

On their sunny brows from Eden bringing wreaths of Hope and Love. Hark—their hymus of glory pealing through the air,

To mortal ears revealing who lies there!
In that dwelling, dark and lowly,
sleeps the heavenly Son,
He, whose home is in the skies-the
Holy One!

NETS AND CAGES.
Swedish Air.

COME, listen to my story, while
Your needle's task you ply;
At what I sing some maids will smile,
While some perhaps may sigh.
Though Love's the theme, and Wisdom
blames

Such florid songs as ours, Yet Truth sometime, like Eastern dames,

Can speak her thoughts by flowers. Then listen, maids, come listen, while Your needle's task you ply; At what I sing there's some may smile, While some perhaps will sigh.

Young Cloe, bent on catching Loves, Such nets had learned to frame,

THOUGH 'TIS ALL BUT A DREAM. French Air.

THOUGH 'tis all but a dream at the best,

Yet, even in a dream to be blessed And still when happiest soonest o'er,

Is so sweet, that I ask for no more. The bosom that opes with earliest hopes,

The soonest finds those hopes untrue, As flowers that first in spring-time burst,

The earliest wither too!

Ay-'tis all but a dream, &c.

By friendship we oft are deceived,

And find the love we clung to past; Yet friendship will still be believed,

And love trusted on to the last.
The web in the leaves the spider weaves
Is like the charm Hope hangs o'er men;
Though often she sees it broke by the
breeze,

She spins the bright tissue again.
Ay-'tis all but a dream, &c.