Ah! Time and Love! your change is then

The saddest and most trying,
When one begins to limp again,
And t'other takes to flying.

Then is Love's hour to stray;
Oh! how he flies away!

But there's a nymph-whose chains I feel,

And bless the silken fetterWho knows-the dear one!-how to deal

With Love and Time much better.
So well she checks their wanderings,
So peacefully she pairs 'em,
That Love with her ne'er thinks
wings,

And Time for ever wears 'em.
This is Time's holiday;
Oh! how he flies away!

LOVE, MY MARY, DWELLS
WITH THEE.

LOVE, my Mary, dwells with thee;
On thy cheek his bed I see.
No-that cheek is pale with care;
Love can find no roses there.
"Tis not on the cheek of rose
Love can find the best repose:
In my heart his home thou'lt see;
There he lives, and lives for thee.

Love, my Mary, n'er can roam,
While he makes that eye his home.
No-the eye with sorrow dim
Ne'er can be a home for him.
Yet, 'tis not in beaming eyes
Love for ever warmest lies:

In my heart his home thou'lt see;
There he lives, and lives for thee.

of

LOVE'S LIGHT SUMMER CLOUD. PAIN and sorrow shall vanish before usYouth may wither, but feeling will last;

All the shadow that e'er shall fall o'er us, Love's light summer-cloud sweetly shall cast.

Oh! if to love thee more Each hour I number o'erIf this a passion be

Worthy of thee,

Then be happy, for thus I adore thee. Charms may wither, but feeling shall last:

All the shadow that e'er shall fall o'er thee,

Love's light summer-cloud sweetly shall cast.

Rest, dear bosom! no sorrow shall pain thee,

Sighs of pleasure alone shalt thou steal; Beam, bright eyelid! no weeping shall stain thee,

Tears of rapture alone shalt thou feel.
Oh! if there be a charm

In love, to banish harm-
If pleasure's truest spell
Be to love well,

Then be happy, for thus I adore thee. Charms may wither, but feeling shall last:

All the shadow that e'er shall fall o' thee,

Love's light summer-cloud sweetly shall cast.

LOVE, WANDERING THROUGH
THE GOLDEN MAZE.
LOVE, wandering through the golden

maze

Of my beloved's hair, Traced every lock with fond delays, And, doting, lingered there. And soon he found 'twere vain to fly; His heart was close confined, And every curlet was a tieA chain by beauty twined.

MERRILY EVERY BOSOM
BOUNDETH.

THE TYROLESE SONG OF LIBERTY. MERRILY every bosom boundeth,

Merrily, oh merrily, oh! Where the song of Freedom soundeth, Merrily, oh! merrily, oh!

There the warrior's arms

Shed more splendour,
There the maiden's charms
Shine more tender-

Every joy the land surroundeth,
Merrily, oh! merrily, oh !

Wearily every bosom pineth,
Wearily, oh! wearily, oh!
Where the bond of slavery twineth,
Wearily, oh! wearily, oh!
There the warrior's dart
Hath no fleetness,

There the maiden's heart

Hath no sweetness-
Every flower of life declineth,
Wearily, oh! wearily, oh!

Cheerily then from hill and valley,
Cheerily, oh! cheerily, oh!
Like your native fountains sally,
Cheerily, oh! cheerily, oh!
If a glorious death,
Won by bravery,
Sweeter be than breath
Sighed in slavery,

Round the flag of Freedom rally,
Cheerily, oh! cheerily, oh!

And who is the man, with his white locks flowing?

Oh, Lady fair! where is he going?
A wandering Pilgrim, weak, I falter,
To tell my beads at Agnes' altar.
Chill falls the rain, night winds are
blowing,

Dreary and dark's the way we're going.

Fair Lady! rest till morning blushes-
I'll strew for thee a bed of rushes.
Oh! stranger! when my beads I'm
counting,

I'll bless thy name at Agnes' fountain. Then, Pilgrim, turn, and rest thy sorrow;

Thou'lt go to Agnes' shrine to-morrow. Good stranger, when my beads I'm telling,

My saint shall bless thy leafy dwelling. Strew, then, oh! strew our bed of rushes;

Here we must rest till morning blushes.

OH! REMEMBER THE TIME.

THE CASTILIAN MAID.

OH! remember the time, in La Mancha's shades,

When our moments so blissfully flew ; When you called me the flower of Castilian maids,

And I blushed to be called so by you. When I taught you to warble the gay seguadille,

And to dance to the light castanet; Oh! never, dear youth, let you roam where you will,

The delight of those moments forget.

They tell me, you lovers from Erin's green isle

And that soon, in the light of some Every hour a new passion can feel, lovelier smile,

You'll forget the poor maid of Castile. But they know not how brave in the battle you are,

Or they never could think you would

OH! SOON RETURN!

THE white sail caught the evening ray, The wave beneath us seemed to burn, When all my weeping love could say

Was, 'Oh! soon return!' Through many a clime our ship was driven,

O'er many a billow rudely thrown; Now chilled beneath a northern heaven, Now sunned by summer's zone : Yet still, where'er our course we lay, When evening bid the west wave burn, I thought I heard her faintly say, 'Oh! soon return!-Oh! soon return!'

And even the wreath of victory
Must owe its bloom to thee.
Those worlds, for which the conqueror
sighs,

For me have now no charms;
My only world's thy radiant eyes-
My throne those circling arms!
Oh yes, so well, so tenderly

Thou'rt loved, adored by me,
Whole realms of light and liberty
Were worthless without thee.

OH! YES, WHEN THE BLOOM.

ОH! yes, when the bloom of Love's boyhood is o'er,

He'll turn into friendship that feels no decay;

And though Time may take from him the wings he once wore,

The charms that remain will be bright as before,

And he'll lose but his young trick of flying away.

Then let it console thee, if Love should not stay,

That Friendship our last happy moments will crown:

Like the shadows of morning, Love lessens away,

While Friendship, like those of the closing of day,

Will linger and lengthen as Life's sun goes down.

ONE DEAR SMILE.

COULDST thou look as dear as when

First I sighed for thee;

Couldst thou make me feel again
Every wish I breathed thee then,

Oh! how blissful life would be!
Hopes, that now beguiling leave me,
Joys, that lie in slumber cold-
All would wake, couldst thou but give

me

One dear smile like those of old.

WHEN 'midst the gay I meet

That blessed smile of thine,

mountains,

I scarce can call it mine : But when to me alone

Your secret tears you show, Oh! then I feel those tears my own, And claim them as they flow. Then still with bright looks bless Give smiles to those who love you less, The gay, the cold, the free; But keep your tears for me.

The snow on Jura's steep

Can smile with many a beam, Yet still in chains of coldness sleep, How bright soe'er it seem. But when some deep-felt ray,

Whose touch is fire, appears, Oh! then the smile is warmed away, And, melting, turns to tears.