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Grant that, beneath thine eye, securely
Our souls, awhile from life withdrawn, May, in their darkness, stilly, purely,
Like “sealed fountains," rest till dawn.
WHERE IS YOUR DWELLING, YE
Through what Elysium more bright
Walk ye in glory and light ? Who the same kingdom inherits?
Breathes there a soul that may dare Look to that world of spirits ?
Or hope to dwell with you there?
GO FORTH TO THE MOUNT.
Air-STEVENSON. Go forth to the Mount-bring the olive-branch home,
And rejoice, for the day of our Freedom is come! From that time, when the moon upon Ajalon's vale, Looking motionless down,' saw the kings of the
ear In the presence of God's mighty Champion, grow
paleOh never had Judah an hour of such mirth! Go forth to the Mount-bring the olive-branch home, And rejoice, for the day of our Freedom is come! Bring myrtle and palm-bring the boughs of each tree That is worthy to wave o'er the tents of the Free. * From that day, when the footsteps of Israel shone, With a light not their own, through the Jordan's
deep tide, Whose waters shrunk back as the Ark glided on—
Oh never had Judah an hour of such pride! Go forth to the mount-bring the olive-branch home, And rejoice, for the day of our Freedom is come!
Sages who, ev'n in exploring
Nature through all her bright ways, Went, like the seraphs, adoring,
And veil'd your eyes in the blazeMartyrs, who left for our reaping
Truths you had sown in your bloodSinners, whom long years of weeping
Chasten'd from evil to good
Maidens who, like the young Crescent,
Turning away your pale brows From earth, and the light of the Present,
Look'd to your Heavenly SpouseSay, through what region enchanted
Walk ye, in heaven's sweet air ? Or, oh, to whom is it granted,
Bright souls, to dwell with you there?
IS IT NOT SWEET TO THINK, HERE
Air-Haydn. Is it not sweet to think, hereafter,
When the spirit leaves this sphere, Love, with deathless wings, shall waft her
To those she long hath mourn'd for here? Hearts, from which 't was death to sever,
Eyes, this world can ne'er restore, There, as warm, as bright as ever,
Shall meet us and be lost no more. When wearily we wander, asking
Of earth and heaven, where are they, Beneath whose smile we once lay basking
Blest, and thinking bliss would stay! Hope still lifts her radiant finger
Pointing to the eternal home, Upon whose portal yet they linger,
Looking back for us to come. Alas-alas—doth Hope deceive us?
Shall friendship-love-shall all those ties That bind a moment, and then leave us,
Be found again where nothing dies ? Oh! if no other boon were given,
To keep our hearts from wrong and stain, Who would not try to win a heaven
Where all we love shall live again?
HOW LIGHTLY MOUNTS THE MUSE'S
Whose theme is in the skies--
The nearer heaven they rise !
Though Love his wreathed lyre may tune,
Yet ah ! the flowers he round it wreathes Were pluck'd beneath pale Passion's moon,
Whose madness from their odour breathes. How purer far the sacred lute,
Round which Devotion ties
And palm that never dies.
Though War's high-sounding harp may be
Most welcome to the hero's ears,
Are bathed, all o'er, with tears.
Who hymn, like saints above,
No trophies but of Love!
1 “And that they should publish and proclaim in all their cities, and in Jerusalem, saying, Go forth unto the mount and fetch olive-branches," etc. etc. - Neh. viii. 15.
2“For since the days of Joshua the son of Nun, unto that day, had not the children of Israel done so: and there was very great gladness."--Ib. 17.
3 “Sun, stand thou still upon Gibeon; and thou, Moon, in the valley of Ajalon."'--Josh. x. 12.
4. "Fetch olive-branches and pine-branches, and myrtlebranches, and palm-branches, and branches of thick trees, to make booths." -Neh. viii. 15.
5. “And the priests that bare the ark of the covenant of the Lord stood firm on dry ground in the midst of Jordan, and all the Israelites passed over
on dry ground.”—Josh. iii 17.
Breaks, like a thunder-cloud, over thy brow !
War, war, war against Babylon !
Make bright the arrows, and gather the shields,' * War against Babylon!" shout we around,'
Set the standard of God on highBe our banners through earth unfurl'd;
Swarm we, like locusts, o'er all her fields, Rise up, ye nations, ye kings, at the sound_? “War against Babylon!" shout through the world!
Zion" our watchword, and“ vengeance" our cry!
Woe! woe!-the time of thy visitation? Oh thou, that dwellest on many waters,"
Is come, proud Land, thy doom is castThy day of pride is ended now;
And the bleak wave of desolation And the dark curse of Israel's daughters
Sweeps o'er thy guilty head, at last !
War, war, war against Babylon! 1 “ Shout against her round about."- Jer. j. 15. 2 " Set up a standard in the land, blow the trumpet among the nations, prepare the nations against her, call to 1 "Make bright the arrows; gather the shields..... set gether against her the kingdoms," etc. etc.-15. li. 27. the standard upon the walls of Babylon."--Ib.
3 “Oh thou, that dwellest upon many waters, thy end is 2 “Woe unto them! for their day is come, the time of come."-Jer. 1. 13.
their visitation."--Ib. 3 A
BALLADS, SONGS, ETC.
BLACK AND BLUE EYES.
Then say, oh say no more
That lovers' pains are sweet.
I never, never can
Believe the fond deceit.
But the soft eye of blue,
She has beauty, but still you must keep your heart
cool; Though it scatter wounds too,
She has wit, but you must not be caught so; Is much better pleased when it heals 'em, dear Fanny: Thus Reason advises, but Reason 's a fool,
And 't is not the first time I have thought so, The black eye may say,
Dear Fanny. “Come and worship my ray,
“She is lovely!" Then love her, nor let the bliss fly; By adoring, perhaps you may move me !"
'Tis the charm of youth's vanishing season: But the blue eye, half hid,
Thus Love has advised me, and who will deny Says, from under its lid,
That Love reasons much better than Reason, "I love, and I'm yours if you love me !"
Dear Fanny ?
DID NOT. “I love, and am yours if you love me !" dear Fanny!
'Twas a new feeling-something more
Than we had dared to own before,
Which then we hid not, which then we hid not Not a charm of its tint I discover;
We saw it in each other's eye,
And wish'd, in every murmur'd sigh,
To speak, but did not; to speak, but did not.
She felt my lips' impassion'd touch-
'T was the first time I dared so much,
And yet she chid not, and yet she chid not; That ever said “No” to a lover, dear Fanny ?
But whisper'd o'er my burning brow,
“Oh! do you doubt I love you now?"
Sweet soul! I did not; sweet soul! I did not.
Warmly I felt her bosom thrill,
I press'd it closer, closer still,
Though gently bid not, though gently bid not;
Till-oh! the world hath seldom heard
Of lovers, who so nearly err'd,
And yet who did not, and yet who did not.
Oh! had I leisure to sigh and mourn,
Fanny, dearest! for thee I'à sigh;
And every smile on my cheek should turn
To tears, when thou art nigh.
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 despair and pine,
Fanny, dearest of all the dears!
The love, that 's order'd to bathe in wine,
Would be sure to take cold in tears.
Reflected bright in this heart of mine,
Fanny, dearest! thy image lies ;
If dimm'd too often with sighs.
Who view it through sorrow's tear;
That I keep my eye-beam clear.
Fanny, dearest ! the hope is vain;
I shall never attempt it with rain.
HERE'S THE BOWER.
And the tree she planted ;
Oh! how that touch enchanted !
Where's the hand to wreath them?
Where's the lip to breathe them?
And the tree she planted ;
Oh ! how that touch enchanted!
O Pilgrim! where hast thou been roaming ?
Dark is the way, and midnight's coming.
Stranger, I've been o'er moor and mountain,
To tell my beads at Agnes' fountain.
Death their eyelids closing ;
Hark! the burial-rite's unThe dead fear no tyrants, the grave has no chains !
'Tis time for our reposing. On, on to the combat ! the heroes that bleed For virtue and mankind are heroes indeed.
Here, then, my Pilgrim's course is o'er : And oh! even if Freedom from this world be driven, 'Tis my master! 't is my master! Welcome tere Despair not-at least we shall find her in heaven.
once more; In death's kindly bosom our last hope remains Come to our shed-all toil is over; The dead fear no tyrants, the grave has no chains. Pilgrim no more, but knight and lover
Oh! how lorn, how lost would prove
Thy wretched victim's fate, If, when deceived in love,
He could not fly to hate !
I CAN NO LONGER STIFLE.
I can no longer stifle,
That little part
They call the heart
Or on my word,
And by the Lord,
This pretty thing's as light, Sir, As any paper kite, Sir,
And here and there,
And God knows where, She takes her wheeling flight, Sir. Us lovers, to amuse us, Unto her tail she nooses ;
There, hung like bobs
Of straw, or nobs, She whisks us where she chuses.
LIGHT SOUNDS THE HARP. Light sounds the harp when the combat is over
When heroes are resting, and joy is in bloomWhen laurels hang loose from the brow of the lover And Cupid makes wings of the warrior's plume.
But, when the foe returns,
Again the hero burns ;
The clang of mingling arms
Is then the sound that charms, And brazen notes of war, by thousand trumpets roar. Oh! then comes the harp, when the combat is over
When heroes are resting, and joy is in bloomWhen laurels hang loose from the brow of the lover,
And Cupid makes wings of the warrior's plume. Light went the harp when the War-god, reclining,
Lay lull'd on the white arm of Beauty to restWhen round his rich armour the myrtle hung twining, And flights of young doves made his helmet their
The hero's eye breathed flame:
While to his wakening ear
No other sounds were dear, But brazen notes of war, by thousand trumpets sung. But then came the light harp, when danger was ended,
And Beauty once more lull'd the War-god to rest; When tresses of gold with his laurels lay blended, And flights of young doves made his helmet their
I SAW THE MOON RISE CLEAR. I saw the moon rise clear
O’er hills and vales of snow, Nor told my fleet rein-deer
The track I wish'd to go. But quick he bounded forth;
For well my rein-deer knew I've but one path on earth
The path which leads to you.
The gloom that winter cast
How soon the heart forgets ! When summer brings, at last,
The sun that never sets. So dawn'd my love for you;
Thus chasing every pain, Than summer sun more true,
'T will never set again.
JOYS THAT PASS AWAY. Joys that pass away like this,
Alas! are purchased dear, If every beam of bliss
Is follow'd by a tear.
The girl whose faithless art
And with it break my heart.
Once, when truth was in those eyes,
How beautiful they shone;
For truth, alas! is gone.
Nanny's beaming eye
Well-a-day, poor Nanny !
She pluck'd a little posie, And Nanny's pallid cheek Soon grew sleek and rosy.
Oh! the little girls, etc