Never saw the brook, But tumbled headlong in it! How the wise one smiled, Died of that cold river! While I touch the string, etc. THEN, FARE THEE WELL! Old English Air. THEN, fare thee well! my own dear love, No greater grief, no pain above The pain of parting thus, dear love! the pain of parting thus ! Had we but known, since first we met, Some few short hours of bliss, We might, in numbering them, forget The deep, deep pain of this, dear love! the deep, deep pain of this! But, no, alas! we've never seen One glimpse of pleasure's ray, But still there came some cloud between, And chased it all away, dear love! and chased it all away! Yet, e'en could those sad moments last, GAILY SOUNDS THE CASTANET. GAILY sounds the castanet, Maids and youths by moonlight meet. Oh! then, how sweet to move Through all that maze of mirth, Lighted by those eyes we love Beyond all eyes on earth. Then, the joyous banquet spread On the cool and fragrant ground, With night's bright eye-beams overhead, And still brighter sparkling round. Oh! then, how sweet to say Into the loved one's ear, Thoughts reserved through many a day COME, chase that starting tear away, Whate'er to-morrow brings! When all is dark'ning fast, Are hours like these we snatch from FateThe brightest and the last. Then, chase that starting tear, etc. To gild our dark'ning life, if Heaven Oh! think that one bright hour is given, Let's live it out—then sink in night, Like waves that from the shore One minute swell-are touch'd with lightThen lost for evermore. Then, chase that starting tear, etc. JOYS OF YOUTH, HOW FLEETING: Portuguese Air. WHISP'RINGS, hoard by wakeful maids, To whom the night-stars guide us— Hearts beating, at meeting,- Oh! sweet youth, how soon it fades! Sweet joys of youth, how fleeting! HEAR ME BUT ONCE. French Air. HEAR me but once, while o'er the grave, Of joys now lost and charms now fled. Those eyes so bright through many a day? BRIGHT BE THY DREAMS! BRIGHT be thy dreams-may all thy weeping There may the child, whose love lay deepest, No. III. WHEN LOVE WAS A CHILD. WHEN Love was a child, and went idling round O'erhead, from the trees, hung a garland fair "T was Pleasure that hung the bright flowers up there; Love knew it, and jump'd at the wreath. But Love didn't know-and at his weak years That Sorrow had made of her own salt tears He caught at the wreath-but with too much haste, It fell in those waters of briny taste, And the flowers were all wet through. Yet this is the wreath he wears night and day, SAY, WHAT SHALL BE OUR SPORT TO-DAY? Sicilian Air. SAY, what shall be our sport to-day? "T is like the returning bloom Of those days, alas! gone by, When I loved each hour-I scarce knew whom,- Ay, those were days when life had wings, I've enough of light and wing still left GO, THEN-T IS VAIN. Go, then 't is vain to hover Thus round a hope that's dead! At length my dream is over, 'Twas sweet-'t was false-'t is fled! Farewell; since nought it moves thee, Such truth as mine to see,- Farewell, sweet eyes, whose brightness THE CRYSTAL HUNTERS. O'ER mountains bright with snow and light. 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; Sometimes, when o'er the Alpine rose, And, though we find no treasure there, We bless the rose that shines so fair. O'er mountains, etc. Short as the Persian's prayer, his prayer at close of day, Must be each vow of Love's repeating; Quick let him worship Beauty's precious rayEven while he kneels that ray is fleeting! ROW GENTLY HERE 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 't would have to tell of wand'ring 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! PEACE TO THE SLUMBERERS! PEACE to the slumberers! The dew and the summer rain The fallen oak lies where it lay, Across the wintry river; But brave hearts, once swept away, Are gone, alas! for ever. Woe to the conqueror! Our limbs shall lie as cold as theirs Of whom his sword bereft us, Ere we forget the deep arrears Of vengeance they have left us! OH! DAYS OF YOUTH. OH! days of youth and joy, long clouded, One joy that equal's youth's sweet pain. Cold winds of Time blow round my brow; Sunshine of youth that once fell o'er me, Where is your warmth, your glory now? "Tis not that then no pain could sting me-"T is not that now no joys remain; Oh! it is that life no more can bring me One joy so sweet as that worst pain. WHEN FIRST THAT SMILE. WHEN first that smile, like sunshine, bless'd my sight, Long years of love, of calm and pure delight, 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 eyes, And of the joy their light was bringing. Where now are all those fondly promised hours? Oh! woman's faith is like her brightness, Fading as fast as rainbows or day-flowers, Or aught that's known for grace and lightness. WHEN THOU SHALT WANDER. WHEN thou shalt wander by that sweet light Yes, proud one! even thy heart may own And wish in vain to know again WHO'LL BUY MY LOVE-KNOTS? HYMEN late, his love-knots selling, "Who 'll buy my love-knots ? Maids who now first dream'd of trying All at that sweet cry assembled ; Some laugh'd, some blush'd, and some trembled. SEE, THE DAWN FROM HEAVEN. SEE, the dawn from heaven is breaking o'er our sight, On their sunny brows from Eden bringing wreaths of Hope and Love. Hark-their hymns 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! No. IV. NETS AND CAGES. 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, sometimes, 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, That none, in all our vales and groves, Much Cloe laugh'd at Susan's task; That, though she charm'd into them Meanwhile, young Sue, whose cage was wrough One Love with golden pinions caught, That, though 't is pleasant weaving Nets, Thus, maidens, thus do I beguile WHEN THROUGH THE PIAZZETTA WHEN through the Piazzetta I'll come to thee there. As Love knows, though clouded, In garb, then, resembling Those clouds o'er the moon, "T will waft thee safe over Yon silent Lagoon." GO, NOW, AND DREAM. Go, now, and dream o'er that joy in thy slumoer That moon, which hung o'er your parting, so splend Often will shine again, bright as she then didBut, ah! never more will the beam she saw burn In those happy eyes at your meeting return. |