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Past two o'clock
Now wrap thy cloak about thee
The hours must sure go wrong, For when they're past without thee, They're, oh, ten times as long.
SAY, WHAT SHALL WE DANCE!
SAY, what shall we dance?
Shall we, like those who rove
Strike the gay chords,
Let us hear each strain from ev'ry shore
That music haunts, or young feet wander o'er.
Hark! 'tis the light march, to whose measured time,
The Polish lady, by her lover led,
Delights through gay saloons with step untired to
Or sweeter still through moonlight walks
Whose shadows serve to hide
The blush that's raised by him who talks
Of love the while by her side,
Then comes the smooth waltz, to whose floating
Like dreams we go gliding around,
Say, which shall we dance? which shall we dance?
THE EVENING GUN.
REMEMBER'ST thou that setting sun,
When loud we heard the evening gun
Oft, when the toils of day are done,
I sit to hear that evening gun,
Peal o'er the stormy sea.
Boom!- and while, o'er billows curl'd, The distant sounds decay,
I weep and wish, from this rough world Like them to die away.