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Ah! Time and Love ! your change is
Oh ! if to love thee more then
Each hour I number o'erThe saddest and most trying,
If this a passion be When one begins to limp again,
Worthy of thee, And t'other takes to flying.
Then be bappy, for thus I adore thee. Then is Love's hour to stray ; Charms may wither, but feeling shall Oh! how he flies away!
All the shadow that e'er shall fall o'er But there's a nymph-whose chains I
Love's light summer-cloud sweetly And bless the silken fetter
shall cast. Who knows-the dear one !-how to deal
Rest, dear bosom! no sorrow shall pain With Love and Time much better. thee, So well she checks their wanderings, Sighs of pleasure aloneshalt thou steal;
So peacefully she pairs 'em, Beam, bright eyelid ! no weeping shall That Love with her ne'er thinks of stain thee, wings,
Tears of rapture alone shalt thou feel. And Time for ever wears 'em.
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. LOVE, MY MARY, DWELLS Charms may wither, but feeling shall WITH THEE.
All the shadow that e'er shall fall o'& LOVE, my Mary, dwells with thee; thee, On thy cheek his bed I see.
Love's light summer-cloud sweetly No-that cheek is pale with care ;
shall cast. Love can find no roses there. 'Tis not on the cheek of rose Love can find the best repose :
LOVE, WANDERING THROUGH In my heart his home thou'lt see ;
THE GOLDEN MAZE. There he lives, and lives for thee.
LOVE, wandering through the golden Love, my Mary, n'er can roam,
Of my beloved's hair,
Traced every lock with fond delays,
And, doting, lingered there. Ne'er can be a home for him.
And soon he found 'twere vain to fly; Yet, 'tis not in beaming eyes
His heart was close confined,
And every curlet was a tie
A chain by beauty twined. There he lives, and lives for thee,
MERRILY EVERY BOSOM LOVE'S LIGHT SUMMER CLOUD.
BOUNDETH. PAIN and sorrow shall vanish before us
THE TYROLESE SONG OF LIBERTY. but feeling will last;
MERRILY every bosom boundeth, All the shadow that e'er shall fall o'erus, Merrily, oh ! merrily, oh! Love's light summer-cloud sweetly Where the song of Freedom soundeth, shall cast.
Merrily, ohi merrily, oh!
There the warrior's arms And who is the man, with his white
locks flowing ?
A wandering Pilgrim, weak, I falter, Every joy the land surroundeth, To tell my beads at Agnes' altar. Merrily, oh ! merrily, oh !
Chill falls the rain, night winds are
blowing, Wearily every bosom pineth, Dreary and dark's the way we're going.
Wearily, oh! wearily, oh! Where the bond of slavery twineth,
Fair Lady! rest till morning blushes
I'll strew for thee a bed of rushes. Wearily, oh! wearily, oh! There the warrior's dart Oh! stranger! when my beads I'm Hath no fleetness,
counting, There the maiden's heart
I'll bless thy name at Agnes' fountain. Hath no sweetness
Then, Pilgrim, turn, and rest thy
sorrow; Every flower of life declineth, Wearily, oh! wearily, oh!
Thou'lt go to Agnes' shrine to-morrow.
Good stranger, when my beads I'm Cheerily then from hill and vailey,
telling. Cheerily, oh! cheerily, oh!
My saint shall bless thy leafy dwelling: Like your native fountains sally,
Strew, then, oh! strew our bed of Cheerily, oh! cheerily, oh!
Here we must rest till morning blushes.
OH! REMEMBER THE TIME.
THE CASTILIAN MAID.
OH ! remember the time, in La Mancha's
When our moments so blissfully flew; NOW LET THE WARRIOR.
When you called me the flower of Cas
tilian maids, Now let the warrior plume his steed,
And I blushed to be called so by you. And wave his sword afar ;
When I taught you to warble the gay For the men of the East this day shall seguadille, blee
And to dance to the light castavet; And the sun shall blush with war. Oh! never, dear youth, let you roam Victory sits on the Christian's helm where you will, To guide her holy band :
The delight of those moments forget. The Knight of the Cross this day shall They tell me, you lovers from Erin's
whelm The men of the Pagan land. Oh ! blessed who in the battle dies ! And that soon, in the light of some
Every hour a new passion can feel, God will enshrine him in the skies !
lovelier smile, You'll forget the poor maid of Castile.
But they know not how brave in the OH, LADY FAIR !
battle you are,
Or they never could think would OH, Lady fair! where art thou roaming ? The sun has sunk, the night is coming. For 'tis always the spirit most gallant Stranger, I go o'er moor and mountain,
in war To tell my beads at Agnes' fountain. That is fondest and truest in love!
OH! SOON RETURN! And even the wreath of victory
Must owe its bloom to thee.
The wave beneath us seemed to burn, sighs,
My only world's thy radiant eyes Through many a clime our ship was My throne those circling arms ! driven,
Oh! yes, so well, so tenderly O’er many a billow rudely thrown ; Thcu'rt loved, adored by me, Now chilled beneath a northern heaven, Whole realms of light and liberty
Now sunned by summer's zone : Were worthless without thee. 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 re
OH! YES, WHEN THE BLOOM. turn !
Oh! yes, when the bloom of Love's If ever yet my bosom found
boyhood is o'er, Its thoughts one moment turned from
He'll turn into friendship that feels thee,
no decay; 'Twas when the combat raged around, And though Time may take from him And brave men looked to me.
the wings he once wore, But though 'mid battle's wild alarm The charms that remain will be bright
Love's gentle power might not appear, as before, He
gave to glory's brow the charm And he'll lose but his young trick of Which made even danger dear.
flying away. And then, when victory's calm came o'er The hearts where rage had ceased to burn,
Then let it console thee, if Love should I heard that farewell voice once more,
not stay, Oh! soon return !-Oh! soon re
That Friendship our last happy turn !'
moments will crown : Like the shadows of morning, Love
While Friendship, like those of the OH! YES, SO WELL.
closing of day,
Will linger and lengthen as Life's sun Oh! yes, so well, so tenderly
goes down. Thou’rt loved, adored by me, Fame, fortune, wealth, and liberty,
Were worthless without thee. Though, brimmed with blisses, pure
ONE DEAR SMILE. Life's cup before me lay,
COULDST thou look as dear as when Unless thy love were mingled there, First I sighed for thee; I'd spurn the draught away,
Couldst thou make me feel again Oh! yes, so well, so tenderly
Every wish I breathed thee then, Thou’rt loved, adored by me,
Oh ! how blissful life would be ! Fame, fortune, wealth, and liberty, Hopes, that now beguiling leave me, Are worthless without thee.
Joys, that lie in slumber coid
All would wake, couldst thou but give Without thy smile how joylessly All glory's meeds I see !
One dear smile like those of old.
Oh! there's nothing left us now,
Oh! never till that glorious day But to mourn the past ;
Shall Lusitania's sons be gay, Vain was every ardent vow
Or hear, oh Peace! thy welcome lay Never yet did Heaven allow
Resounding through her sunny moun.
Life itself looks dark and cold :
THE YOUNG ROSE.
THE young rose which I give thee, so
dewy and bright,
Was the floweret most dear to the sweet THE DAY OF LOVE.
bird of night, THE beam of morning trembling Who oft by the moon o'er her blushes Stole o'er the mountain brook,
hath hung, With timid ray resembling
And thrilled every leaf with the wild Affection's early look.
lay he sung Thus love begins-sweet morn of love! The noontide ray ascended,
Oh! take thou this young rose, and let
her life be And o'er the valley stream Diffused a glow as splendid
Prolonged by the breath she will borrow
from thee! As passion's riper dream. Thus love expands-warm noon of love! For while o'er her bosom thy soft notes
shall thrill, But evening came, o'ershading She'll think the sweet night-bird is The glories of the sky,
courting her still ! Like faith and fondness fading
From Passion's altered eye.
WHEN 'MIDST THE GAY I MEET.
THE SONG OF WAR. WHEN ’midst the gay I meet
That blessed smile of thine, The song of war shall echo through our Though still on me it turns most sweet, mountains,
I scarce can call it mine : Till not one hateful link remains
But when to me alone Of slavery's lingering chains
Your secret tears you show,
No! never till that glorious day Then still with bright looks bless
The gay, the cold, the free;
But keep your tears for me. tains. The song of war shall echo through our The snow on Jura’s steep mountains,
Can smile with many a beam, Till Victory's self shall, smiling, say, Yet still in chains of coldness sleep, *Your cloud of foes hath passed away, How bright soe'er it seem. And Freedom comes with new-born But when some deep-felt ray, ray,
Whose touch is fire, appears, To gild your vines and light your foun. Oh! then the smile is warmed away, tains.'
And, melting, turns to tears.
Then still with bright looks bless Now, had this needle turned its eye The gay, the cold, the free !
To some gay Ridicule's construction, Give smiles to those who love you less, It ne'er had strayed from duty's tie, But keep your tears for me,
Nor felt a magnet's sly seduction. Girls, would you keep tranquil hearts,
Your snowy fingers must be nimble';
The safest shield against the darts WHEN TWILIGHT DEWS. Of Cupid, is Minerva's thimble.
When twilight dews are falling soft
OH! SEE THOSE CHERRIES. I watch the star whose beam so oft
Has lighted me to thee, love! Oh! see those cherries,—though once And thou too, on that orb so clear, so glowing, Ah ! dost thou gaze at even,
They've lain too long on the sunAnd think, though lost for ever here, bright wall; Thou'lt yet be mine in heaven? And mark! already their bloom is
going; There's not a garden walk I tread,
Too soon they'll wither, too soon There's not a flower I see, love !
they'll fall. But brings to mind some hope that's filed, Once caught by their blushes, the light
bird flew round, Some joy I've lost with thee, love ! And still I wish that hour was near,
Oft on their ruby lips leaving Love's When, friends and foes forgiven,
wound; The pains, the ills, we've wept through
But now he passes them, all too here,
knowing May turn to smiles in heaven!
To taste withered cherries, when fresh
may be found.
Old Time thus fleetly his course is
running; YOUNG JESSICA.
If bards were not moral, how maids
would go wrong! YOUNG Jessica sat all the day, In love-dreams languishingly pining,
And thus thy beauties, now sunned
and sunning, Her needle bright neglected lay,
Would wither if left on the rose-tree Like truant genius idly shining.
too long. Jessy, 'tis in idle hearts
Then Love, while thou'rt lovely, e'en I That love and mischief are most
should be glad nimble;
So sweetly to save thee from ruin so The safest shield against the darts
sad; Of Cupid, is Minerva's thimble.
But oh, delay not-we bards are too
cunning A child who with a magnet played, To sigh for old beauties, when young
And knew its winning ways so wily,
TO-DAY, DEAREST ! IS OURS.
, Was pleased to let the magnet TO-DAY, dearest, is ours ; wheedle,
Why should Love carelessly lose it? Till closer still the tempter drew, This life shines or lours
And off at length eloped the needle. Just as we, weak mortals, use it.
may be had.