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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-kuots? 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!

Some are labell'd Knots to tie men'-
'Love the maker'- Bought of Hymen.'.

Scarce their bargains were completed,
When the nymphs all cried, « We 're cheated!
See these flowers-they 're drooping sadly;
This gold-knot, too, ties but badly-

Who'd buy such love-knots?
Who'd buy such love-knots?

Even this tie, with Love's name round it-
All a sham-he never bound it.

Love, who saw the whole proceeding,

Would have laugh'd, but for good-breeding;
While Old Hymen, who was used to
Cries like that these dames gave loose to-
<< Take back our love-knots!

Take back our love-knots!->

Coolly said, « There's no returning
Wares on Hymen's hands-Good morning!»

SEE, THE DAWN FROM HEAVEN. Sung at Rome, on Christmas Eve. SEE, the dawn from heaven is breaking o'er our sight, And Earth, from sin awaking, hails the sight! See, those groups of Angels, winging from the realms

above,

On their sunny brows from Eden bringing wreaths of Hope and Love.

Hark-their hymns of glory pealing through the air, To mortal cars revealing who lies there!

In that dwelling, dark and lowly, sleeps the heavenly |

Son,

He, whose home is in the skies,-the Holy One!

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HOW OFT WHEN WATCHING STARS.

Savoyard Air.

How oft, when watching stars grow pale,

And round me sleeps the moonlight scene,

To hear a flute through yonder vale

I from my casement lean.

"T IS WHEN THE CUP IS SMILING. Italian Air.

'Tis when the cup is smiling before us,

And we pledge round to hearts that are true, boy, th That the sky of this life opens o'er us,

And Heaven gives a glimpse of its blue.

Oh! come, my love!» each note it utters seems to say; Talk of Adam in Eden reclining,

Oh! come, my love! the night wears fast away!

No, ne'er to mortal ear

Can words, though warm they be, Speak Passion's language half so clear As do those notes to me!

Then quick my own light lute I seek,

And strike the chords with loudest swell; And, though they nought to others speak,

He knows their language well.

We are better, far better off thus, boy, thus; For him but two bright eyes were shining

See what numbers are sparkling for us!

When on one side the grape-juice is dancing.

And on t' other a blue eye beams, boy, beams, T is enough, 't wixt the wine and the glancing, To disturb even a saint from his dreams. Though this life like a river is flowing,

I care not how fast it goes on, boy, on,

I come, my love! each sound they utter seems to say; While the grape on its bank still is growing,

I come, my love! thine, thine till break of day.

And such eyes light the waves as they run.

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