Thus, in the stilly night,

Ere Slumber's chain has bound me,
Sad Memory brings the light

Of other days around me

PEACE BE AROUND THEE

[SCOTCH AIR.]

PEACE be around thee, wherever thou rovest;
May life be for thee one summer's day,
And all that thou wishest, and all that thou lovest,
Come smiling around thy sunny way!

If sorrow e'er this calm should break,
May even thy tears pass off so lightly,
Like spring-showers, they 'll only make
The smiles that follow shine more brightly.

May Time, who sheds his blight o'er all,
And daily dooms some joy to death,

O'er thee let years so gently fall,

They shall not crush one flower beneath.

As half in shade and half in sun

This world along its path advances,

May that side the sun's upon

Be all that e'er shall meet thy glances!

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 't would 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'

30*

MY HARP HAS ONE UNCHANGING

THEME

[SWEDISH AIR.]

My harp has one unchanging theme,
One strain that still comes o'er
Its languid chord, as 't were a dream
Of joy that's now no more.
In vain I try, with livelier air,

To wake the breathing string;
That voice of other times is there,

And saddens all I sing.

Breathe on, breathe on,

thou languid strain,

Henceforth be all my own;

Though thou art oft so full of pain

Few hearts can bear thy tone.
Yet oft thou 'rt sweet, as if the sigh,

The breath that Pleasure's wings
Gave out, when last they wanton'd by
Were still upon thy strings.

COME, CHASE THAT STARTING TEAR

AWAY.

[FRENCH AIR.]

COME, chase that starting tear away,
Ere mine to meet it springs;
To-night, at least, to-night be gay,
Whate'er to-morrow brings.

Like sunset gleams, that linger late

When all is dark'ning fast,

Are hours like these we snatch from Fate
The brightest, and the last.

Then, chase that starting tear, &c.

To gild the deep'ning gloom, if Heaven
But one bright hour allow,

Oh, think that one bright hour is given,
In all its splendor, now.

Let's live it out then sink in night,
Like waves that from the shore

One minute swell, are touch'd with light,
Then lost for evermore!

Come, chase that starting tear, &c.

WHO'LL BUY MY LOVE-KNOTS'

[PORTUGUESE AIR.]

HYMEN, late his love-knots selling,
Call'd 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 dream'd of trying
These gay knots of Hymen's tying;
Dames, who long had sat to watch him
Passing 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 laugh'd, some blush'd, and some trembled

"Here are knots," said Hymen, taking

Some loose flowers, "of Love's own making

Here are gold ones

-you may trust 'em "

(These, of course, found ready custom,)

"Come, buy my love-knots!

Come, buy my love-knots!

Love the maker-Bought of Hymen.'"