Then, then, while closely heart was drawn to heart, “My life, my only life!” among the rest; In those sweet accents that still enthral me, Thou saidst, “ Ah! wherefore thy life thus call me? Thy soul, thy soul's the name that I love best; For life soon passes, but how blest to be That soul which never, never parts from thee !" When I remember all The friends, so link'd together, I feel like one Who treads alone Whose lights are fled, Whose garland's dead, And all but he departed! Thus, in the stilly night, Ere Slumber's chain has bound me, Sad Memory brings the light Of other days around me. HARK! THE VESPER HYMN IS STEALING Russian Air. O'er the waters, soft and clear; Jubilate, Amen. Jubilate, Amen. OH! COME TO ME WHEN DAYLIGHT SETS. Venetian Air. Sweet! then come to me, O'er the moonlight sea. Beneath that glancing ray, To steal young hearts away. Sweet ! then come to me, O'er the moonlight sea. Sweet! like thee and me; In heaven and o'er the sea. And Echo sings again Should love and listen then. Sweet ! then come to me, O'er the moonlight sea. Now, like moonlight's waves retreating To the shore, it dies along; Jubilate, Amen. Jubilate, Amen. No. II. OFT, IN THE STILLY NIGHT. Sco Air. Oft, in the stilly night, Ere Slumber's chain has bound me, Fond Memory brings the light Of other days around me; The smiles, the tears, Of boyhood's years, The eyes that shone, Now dimm'd and gone, The cheerful hearts now broken ! Thus, in the stilly night, Ere Slumber's chain has bound me, Sad Memory brings the light of other days around me. LOVE AND HOPE. Swiss air. Young Hope and Love reclined ; And left poor Hope behind. “I go,” said Love, “to sail awhile Across this sunny main ;" And then so sweet his parting smile, That Hope, who never dream'd of guile, Believed he'd come again. She linger'd there till evening's beam Along the waters lay, And o'er the sands, in thoughtful dream, Oft traced his name, which still the streaza As often wash'd away. 1 The thought in this verse is borrowed from the original Portuguese words. 2 Barcarolles, sorte de chansons en langue Vénitienne, que chantent les gondoliers à Venise. - Rousseau, Dictionnaire de Musique. At length a sail appears in sight, And toward the maiden moves ! 'Tis Wealth that comes, and gay and bright, His golden bark reflects the light, But ah! it is not Love's Another sail—'t was Friendship show'd Her night-lamp o'er the sea; And where, alas ! was he? Night threw her darkling chain, Love never came again! Thy beauty then my senses moved, But now thy virtues bind my heart. What was but Passion's sigh before, Has since been turn'd to Reason's vow; And, though I then might love thee more, Trust me, I love thee better now! Although my heart in earlier youth Might kindle with more wild desire, Believe me, it has gain'd in truth Much more than it has lost in fire. The flame now warms my inmost core, That then but sparkled o'er my brow; And, though I seem'd to love thee more, Yet, oh! I love thee better now. THERE COMES A TIME. German Air. To him whose heart hath flown And made each flower its own. "Tis when his soul must first renounce Those dreams so bright, so fond; Oh! then 's the time to die at once, For life has nought beyond. There comes a time, etc. That instant all is night ; When Love withdraws his light- Through twilight's dim delay The cold remains of lustre gone, Of fire long pass'd away. Oh! there comes a time, etc. PEACE BE AROUND THEE. Scotch Air. May life be for thee one summer's day, 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 ! MY HARP HAS ONE UNCHANGING THEME. Swedish Air. One strain that still comes o'er Of joy that's now no more. 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. COMMON SENSE AND GENIUS. French Air. While I touch the string, Wreath my brows with laurel, For the tale I sing, Has, for once, a moral. Though not used to gambols, While I touch the string, etc. Many wise things saying, While the light that shone Soon set Genius straying. One his eye ne'er raised From the path before him, 'T other idly gazed On each night-cloud o'er him. While I touch the string, eto So they came, at last, To a shady river; Common Sense soon pass'd, Safe, as he doth ever; While the boy, whose look Was in heaven that minute, OH! NO_NOT E'EN WHEN FIRST WE LOVED. Cashmerian Air. Wert thou as dear as now thou art; Never saw the brook, While I touch the string, etc. How the wise one smiled, When safe o'er the torrent, At that youth, so wild, Dripping from the current ! Sense went home to bed ; Genius, left to shiver On the bank, 't is said, Died of that cold river ! While I touch the string, etc. When the dance and feast are done, Arm in arm as home we stray, How sweet to see the dawning sun O'er her cheeks' warm blushes play! Then, then the farewell kiss, And words whose parting tone Lingers still in dreams of bliss, That haunt young hearts alone. LOVE IS A HUNTER-BOY. Languedocian Air. Love is a hunter-boy, Who makes young hearts his prey, And in his nets of joy Ensnares them night and day. In vain conceal'd they lie Love tracks them every where; In vain aloft they fly Love shoots them flying there. But 't is his joy most sweet, At early dawn to trace The print of Beauty's feet, And give the trembler chase. And most he loves through snow To trace those footsteps fair, For then the boy doth know None track'd before him there. THEN, FARE THEE WELL! Old English Air. This world has now for us ing 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 coud those sad moments last, Far dearer to my heart Were hours of grief, together past, Than years of mirth apart, dear love! than years of mirth apart! Farewell ! our hope was born in fears, And nursed ’mid vain regrets ! Like winter suns, it rose in tears, Like them in tears it sets, dear love! like them in tears it sets! COME, CHASE THAT STARTING TEAR AWAY. French Air. Ere mine to meet it springs ; Whate'er to-morrow brings ! When all is dark’ning fast, Then, chase that starting tear, etc. But one bright hour allow, In all its splendour, now! Like waves that from the shore Then, chase that starting tear, etc. GAILY SOUNDS THE CASTANET. Maltese Air. GAILY sounds the castanet, Beating time to bounding feet, When, after daylight's golden set, 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. Into the loved one's ear, To be thus whisper'd here. JOYS OF YOUTH, HOW FLEETING : Portuguese Air. WHISPÄRINGS, heard by wakeful maids, To whom the night-stars guide usStolen walks through moonlight shades, With those we love beside us. Hearts beating, at meeting, Tears starting, at parting ; Sweet joys of youth, how fleeting! HEAR ME BUT ONCE. French Air. In which our love lies cold and dead, Of joys now lost and charms now fled. Who could have thought the smile he wore, When first we met, would fade away? Or that a chill would e'er come o'er Those eyes so bright through many a day? BRIGHT BE THY DREAMS! Welch Air. BRIGHT be thy dreams—may all thy weeping Turn into smiles while thou art sleeping: Those by death or seas removed, Friends, who in thy spring-time knew thee, All thou 'st ever prized or loved, In dreams come smiling to thee! There may the child, whose love lay deepest, Dearest of all, come while thou sleepest; Still the same-no charm forgotNothing lost that life had given; Or, if changed, but changed to what Thou 'lt find her yet in Heaven ! No. III. WHEN LOVE WAS A CHILD. Swedish Air. 'Mong flowers the whole summer's day, One morn in the valley a bower he found, So sweet, it allured him to stay A fountain ran darkly beneath'T was Pleasure that hung the bright flowers up there; Love knew it, and jump'd at the wreath. What urchin was likely to know ?- That fountain which murmur'd below. As boys when impatient will do- And the flowers were all wet through. And, though it all sunny appears Still tastes of the Fountain of Tears. GO, THEN—'TIS VAIN. Sicilian Air. Go, then—'t is vain to hover Thus round a hope that's dead! At length my dream is over, 'T was sweet-'t was false't is filed ! Farewell; since nought it moves thee, Such truth as mine to see,Some one, who far less loves thee, Perhaps more bless'd will be. Farewell, sweet eyes, whose brightness New life around me shed! Farewell, false heart, whose lightness Now leaves me death instead ! Go, now, those charms surrender To some new lover's sigh, One who, though far less tender, May be more bless'd than I. SAY, WHAT SHALL BE OUR SPORT TO-DAY? Sicilian Air. There 's nothing on earth, in sea, or air, For spirits like mine to dare ! 'Tis like the returning bloom Of those days, alas ! gone by, When I loved each hour I scarce knew whom, And was bless'd—I scarce knew why. Ay, those were days when life had wings, And flew-oh, flew so wild a height, That, like the lark which sunward springs, ’T was giddy with too much light; nd, though of some plumes bereft, With that sun, too, nearly set, For a few gay soarings yet. THE CRYSTAL HUNTERS. Swiss Air. O’Er mountains bright with snow and light, We Crystal Hunters speed along, While grots and caves, and icy waves, Each instant echo to our song; And, when we meet with stores of gems, We grudge not kings their diadems. O'er mountains bright with snow and light, We Crystal Hunters speed along. While grots and caves, and icy waves, 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; Though, next to crystal, we too grant That ladies' eyes may most enchant. O'er mountains, etc. Sometimes, when o'er the Alpine rose, The golden sunset leaves its ray, So like a gem the flow'ret glows, We thither bend our headlong wav, 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 ray Even while he kneels that ray is fleeting ! 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 wand'ring youths like me! PEACE TO THE SLUMBERERS! Catalonian Air. PEACE to the slumberers ! They lie on the battle plain, With no shroud to cover them; The dew and the summer rain Are all that weep over them. Vain was their bravery ! 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 ! Now res 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 ! OH! DAYS OF YOUTH. French Air. Why thus for ever haunt my view ? Why did not Memory die there too? Vainly doth Hope her strain now sing me, Whispering of joys that yet remainNo, no, never can this life bring me One joy that equal's youth's sweet pain. Dim lies the way to death before me, 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 THOU SHALT WANDER. Sicilian Air. We used to gaze on so many an eve, Ere I could doubt or thou deceive That love like ours was far too sweet When past the summer's heat ; WHEN FIRST THAT SMILE. Venetian Air. When first that smile, like sunshine, bless'd my sight, Oh! what a vision then came o'er me! Long years of love, of calm and pure delight, Seem'd in that smile to pass before me. Ne'er did the peasant dream, ne'er dream of summer skies, And of the joy their light was bringing. Oh! woman's faith is like her brightness, Or aught that is known for grace and lightness. WHO'LL BUY MY LOVE-KNOTS ? Portuguese Air. “ Who 'll buy my love-knots ? Who 'll buy my love-knots ?” “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. |