I watch the star whose beam so oft And think, though lost for ever here, There's not a garden walk I tread, The pains, the ills we've wept through here, FANNY, DEAREST. OH! had I leisure to sigh and mourn, But between love, and wine, and sleep, So busy a life I live, That even the time it would take to weep Is more than my heart can give. Then bid me not to despair and pine, The Love that's order'd to bathe in wine Reflected bright in this heart of mine, SIGH NOT THUS. SIGH not thus, oh, simple boy, Worth one hour of anguish. Stars have ceased their shining; Then, love, vanish hence, Melancholy thoughts of Cupid's lore; Charms soon die away, Then the silly dream of the heart is o'er. 'TIS LOVE THAT MURMURS. 'TIS Love that murmurs in my breast, And makes me shed the secret tear; Nor day nor night my heart has rest, For night and day his voice I hear. Oh, bird of love, with song so drear, YOUNG ELLA. YOUNG Ella was the happiest maid Now wan with woe is Ella's form, Oh! she was like the silver rose That drinks the early tears of heaven, Upon the blushing brow of even! Alas, poor Ella ! No longer now the hamlet train And quench'd is all that lively fire. Is heard the maniac's plaint of woe. Fond maid, when from these ills severe And twine thy grave with many a flower. Shall deck the rustic poet's lay; And as they pass thy simple tomb, The village hinds shall weeping say, THE PILGRIM. HOLY be the pilgrim's sleep, From the dreams of terror free; And may all who wake to weep, Rest to-night as sweet as he. "Hark! hark, did I hear a vesper swell? It is, my love, some pilgrim's prayer!" "No, no, 'tis but the convent bell, That toll'd upon the midnight air! "Now, now again, the voice I hear, Some holy man is wandering near: T O pilgrim, where hast thou been roaming? "And, pilgrim, say where art thou going? Dark is the way, the winds are blowing! "Weary with wandering, weak, I falter, To breathe my vows at Agnes' altar!" Strew then, oh strew his bed of rushes, Here he shall rest till morning blushes! (Dirge heard from the convent within.) Peace to them whose days are done, Death their eyelids closing; Hark! the burial rite 's begun, 'Tis time for our reposing. (Pilgrim throwing off his disguise.) "Here, then, my pilgrim's course is o'er." ""Tis my master, 'tis my master, Welcome! welcome home once more!" WILT THOU SAY FAREWELL, LOVE? "WILT thou say farewell, love, And from Zelinda part? The anguish of her heart." "I'll still be thine, and thou 'lt be mine, Oh! say, can I e'er cease to sigh, "Wilt thou think of me, love, "Let not other wiles, love, Thy ardent heart betray; CEASE, OH CEASE TO TEMPT. CEASE, oh cease to tempt My tender heart to love, So wild a flame approve. All its joys and pains To others I resign; But be the vacant heart, The careless bosom mine. Say, oh say no more, That lovers' pains are sweet; I never, never can Believe the fond deceit.. Weeping day and night, Consuming life in sighs; This is the lover's lot, And this I ne'er could prize. JOYS THAT PASS AWAY. Joys that pass away like this, If every beam of bliss Is follow'd by a tear. Fare thee well! oh, fare thee well! The girl whose faithless art And with it break my heart! Once when truth was in those eyes, But now that lustre flies, For truth, alas, gone! Fare thee well! oh, fare thee well! |