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Sue, the pretty nun,

That Love with her ne'er thinks of wings,
Prays with warm emotion;

And Time for ever wears 'em.
Sweetly rolls her eye

This is Time's holiday;
In love or in devotion.

Oh! how he flies away!
If her pious heart

Softens to relieve you,
She gently shares the crime,

LOVE, MY MARY, DWELLS WITH THEE.
With, “Oh! may God forgive you !"
Oh! the little girls,

Love, my Mary, dwells with thee;

On thy cheek, his bed I see.
Wily, warm, and winning;

No—that cheek is pale with care;
When angels tempt us to it,

Love can find no roses there.
Who can keep from sinning?

'Tis not on the cheek of rose
Love can find the best repose :

In my heart his home thou ’lt see;
LOVE AND THE SUN-DIAL.

There he lives, and lives for thee.
YOUNG Love found a Dial once, in a dark shade,
Where man ne'er had wander'd nor sun-beam play'd;

Love, my Mary, ne'er can roam, “Why thus in darkness lie?” whisper'd young Love,

While he makes that eye his home.

No—the eye with sorrow dim Thou, whose gay hours should in sun-shine move."

Ne'er can be a home for him. “I ne'er," said the Dial,“ have seen the warm sun,

Yet, 't is not in beaming eyes So noonday and midnight to me, Love, are one."

Love for ever warmest lies :
Then Love took the Dial away from the shade,

In my heart his home thou ’lt see;
And placed her where Heaven's beam warmly play'd. There he lives, and lives for thee.
There she reclined, beneath Love's gazing eye,
While, all mark'd with sun-shine, her hours flew by.
“Oh! how," said the Dial, “ can any fair maid,

LOVE'S LIGHT SUMMER CLOUD. That 's born to be shone upon, rest in the shade ?"

Pain and sorrow shall vanish before usBut night now comes on, and the sun-beam 's o'er,

Youth may wither, but feeling will last; And Love stops to gaze on the Dial no more. And the shadow that e'er shall fall o'er us, Then cold and neglected, while bleak rain and winds

Love's light summer-cloud sweetly shall cast. Are storming around her, with sorrow she finds

Oh! if to love thee more That Love had but number'd a few sunny hours,

Each hour I number o'erAnd left the remainder to darkness and showers !

If this a passion be

Worthy of thee,

Then be happy, for thus I adore thee.
LOVE AND TIME.

Charms may wither, but feeling shall last :

All the shadow that e'er shall fall o'er thee, 'Tis said-but whether true or not

Love's light summer-cloud sweetly shall cast. Let bards declare who've seen 'emThat Love and Time have only got

Rest, dear bosom! no sorrows shall pain thee, One pair of wings between 'em.

Sighs of pleasure alone shalt thou steal; In courtship's first delicious hour,

Beam, bright eyelid ! no weeping shall stain thee, The boy full oft can spare 'em.

Tears of rapture alone shalt thou feel.
So, loitering in his lady's bower,

Oh! if there be a charm
He lets the gray-beard wear 'em.

In love, to banish harm-
Then is Time's hour of play;

If pleasure's truest spell
Oh! how he flies away!

Be to love well,
But short the moments, short as bright,

Then be happy, for thus I adore thee.
When he the wings can borrow;

Charms may wither, but feeling shall last :
If Time to-day has had his flight,

All the shadow that e'er shall fall o'er thee,
Love takes his turn to-morrow.

Love's light summer-cloud sweetly shall cast. Ah! Time and Love! your change is then

The saddest and most trying, When one begins to limp again,

LOVE, WAND'RING THROUGH THE
And t' other takes to flying.

GOLDEN MAZE.
Then is Love's hour to stray ;
Oh! how he flies away!

LOVE, wand'ring through the golden maze

Of my beloved's hair,
But there's a nymph-whose chains I feel, Traced every lock with fond delays,
And bless the silken fetter-

And, doting, linger'd there.
Who knows-the dear one !-how to deal And soon he found 't were vain to fly;
With Love and Time much better,

His heart was close confined,
So well she checks their wanderings,

And every curlet was a tie-
So peacefully she pairs 'em,

A chain by beauty twined.

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NOW LET THE WARRIOR. Now let the warrior plume his steed,

And wave his sword afar; For the men of the East this day shall bleed,

And the sun shall blush with war. Victory sits on the Christian's helm

To guide her holy band : The Knight of the Cross this day shall whelm The men of the Pagan land.

Oh! bless'd who in the battle dies !

God will enshrine him in the skies! Now let the warrior plume his steed,

And wave his sword afar, For the men of the East this day shall bleed,

And the sun shall blush with war.

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OH, LADY FAIR! Oh, Lady fair! where art thou roaming ? The sun has sunk, the night is coming. Stranger, I go o'er moor and mountain, To tell my beads at Agnes' fountain. And who is the man, with his white locks flowing ? Oh, Lady fair! where is he going ? A wand'ring Pilgrim, weak, I falter, To tell my beads at Agnes' altar.

OH! SOON RETURN! THE white sail caught the evening ray,

The wave beneath us seem'd to burn,

Like the shadows of morning, Love lessens away, While Friendship, like those at the closing of day,

Will linger and lengthen as Life's sun goes down.

When all my weeping love could say

Was, “Oh! soon return !" Through many a clime our ship was driven,

O'er many a billow rudely thrown; Now chill'd beneath a northern heaven,

Now sunn'd by summer's zone : Yet still, where'er our course we lay,

When evening bid the west wave burn, I thought I heard her faintly say,

“ Oh! soon return !-Oh! soon return !" If ever yet my bosom found

Its thoughts one moment turn'd from thee, "T was when the combat raged around,

And brave men look'd to me. But though 'mid battle's wild alarm

Love's gentle power might not appear,
He gave to glory's brow the charm

Which made even danger dear.
And then, when victory's calm came o'er

The hearts where rage had ceased to burn, I heard that farewell voice once more,

“Oh! soon return !-Oh! soon return !"

ONE DEAR SMILE.
COULDST thou look as dear as when

First I sigh'd for thee ;
Couldst thou make me feel again
Every wish I breathed thee then,

Oh! how blissful life would be !
Hopes, that now beguiling leave me,

Joys, that lie in slumber coldAll would wake, couldst thou but give me

One dear smile like those of old.

Oh! there's nothing left us now,

But to mourn the past ; Vain was every ardent vowNever yet did Heaven allow

Love so warm, so wild, to last. Not even hope could now deceive me

Life itself looks dark and cold: Oh! thou never more canst give me

One dear smile like those of old.

OH! YES, SO WELL. OH! yes, so well, so tenderly

Thou 'rt loved, adored by me, Fame, fortune, wealth, and liberty,

Were worthless without thee.
Though brimm'd with blisses, pure and rare,

Life's cup before me lay,
Unless thy love were mingled there,

I'd spurn the draught away.
Oh! yes, so well, so tenderly

Thou 'rt loved, adored by me, Fame, fortune, wealth, and liberty,

Are worthiess without thee.
Without thy smile how joylessly

All glory's meeds I see!
And even the wreath of victory

Must owe its bloom to thee.
Those worlds, for which the conqueror sighs,

For me have now no charms;
My only world 's thy radiant eyes-

My throne those circling arms!
Oh! yes, so well, so tenderly

Thou 'rt loved, adored by me, Whole realms of light and liberty

Were worthless without thee.

POH, DERMOT! GO ALONG WITH YOUR

GOSTER.
Por, Dermot! go along with your goster,

You might as well pray at a jig,
Or teach an old cow Pater Noster,

Or whistle Moll Roe to a pig!
Arrah, child! do you think I'm a blockhead,

And not the right son of my mother,
To put nothing at all in one pocket,
And not half so much in the other?

Poh, Dermot ! etc.

Any thing else I can do for you,

Keadh mille faltha, and welcome, Put up an Ave or two for you,

Fear'd that you'd ever to hell come. If you.confess you're a rogue,

I will turn a deaf ear, and not care for 't; Bid you put pease in your brogue, But just tip you a hint to go barefoot.

Then get along with, etc.

OH! YES, WHEN THE BLOOM. On! yes, when the bloom of Love's boyhood is o'er,

He'll turn into friendship that feels no decay ; And, though Time may take from him the wings he

once wore, The charms that remain will be bright as before,

And he 'll lose but his young trick of flying away. Then let it console thee, if Love should not stay,

That Friendship our last happy moments will

If you've the whiskey in play,

To oblige you, I'll come take a smack of it, Stay with you all night and day,

Ay, and twenty-four hours to the back of it Oh! whiskey 's a papist, God save it!

The beads are upon it completely ; But I think before ever we'd leave it, We'd make it a heretic neatly.

Then get along with, etc.

If you're afear'd of a Banshee,

Or Leprochauns are not so civil, dear, Let Father Luke show his paunch, he

Will frighten them all to the devil, dear.

crown:

It 's I that can hunt them like ferrets,

And lay them without any fear, gra; But for whiskey, and that sort of spirits, Why them-I would rather lay here,' gra.

Then get along with, etc.

But evening came, o'ershading

The glories of the sky,
Like faith and fondness fading

From Passion's alter'd eye.
Thus love declines-cold eve of love!

SEND THE BOWL ROUND MERRILY.

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Send the bowl round merrily,

Laughing, singing, drinking; Toast it, toast it cheerily

Here's to the devil with thinking ! Oh ! for the round of pleasure,

With sweetly-smiling lassesGlasses o'erflowing their measure,

With hearts as full as our glasses. Send the bowl round merrily,

Laughing, singing, drinking; Toast it, toast it cheerily

Here's to the devil with thinking ! Once I met with a funny lass,

Oh! I loved her dearly ! Left for her my bonny glass

Faith! I died for her-nearly.
But she proved damn’d uncivil,

And thought to peck like a hen, sir;
So I pitch'd the jade to the devil,
And took to my glass again, sir.

Then send the bowl, etc.
Now I'm turn'd a rover,

In love with every petticoat; No matter whom it may cover,

Or whether it's Jenny's or Betty's coat; And, if the girls can put up

With any good thing in pieces,
My heart I'll certainly cut up,
And share it with all young misses.

Then send the bowl, etc.
A bumper round to the pretty ones!

Here's to the girl with the blue eyes!
Here's to her with the jetty ones,

Where the languishing dew lies !
Could all such hours as this is

Be summ'd in one little measure,
I'd live a short life of blisses,
And die in a surfeit of pleasure !

Then send the bowl, etc.

THE SONG OF WAR.
The song of war shall echo through our mountains,

Till not one hateful link remains
Of slavery's lingering chains-

Till not one tyrant tread our plains,
Nor traitor lip pollute our fountains.

No! never till that glorious day
Shall Lusitania's sons be gay,

Or hear, oh Peace! thy welcome lay
Resounding through her sunny mountains.
The song of war shall echo through our mountains,

Till Victory's self shall, smiling, say,
“Your cloud of foes hath pass'd away,

And Freedom comes with new-born ray,
To gild your vines and light your fountains.”

Oh! never till that glorious day
Shall Lusitania's sons be gay,

Or hear, oh Peace! thy welcome lay
Resounding through her sunny mountains.

THE DAY OF LOVE. The beam of morning trembling

Stole o'er the mountain brook With timid ray resembling

Affection's early look. Thus love begins—sweet morn of love! The noon-tide ray ascended,

And o'er the valley stream Diffused a glow as splendid

As passion's riper dream. Thus love expands-warm noon of love!

THE TABLET OF LOVE. You bid me be happy, and bid me adieuCan happiness live when absent from you? Will sleep on my eyelids e'er sweetly alight, When greeted no more by a tender good night? Oh, never ! for deep is the record enshrined ; Thy look and thy voice will survive in my mind: Though age may the treasures of memory remove, Unfading shall flourish the Tablet of Love. Through life’s winding valley—in anguish, in rest, Exalted in joy, or by sorrow depress'd From its place in the mirror that lies on my heart, Thine image shall never one moment depart. When time, life, and all that poor mortals hold dear Like visions, like dreams, shall at last disappear, Though raised among seraphs to realms above, Unfading shall flourish the Tablet of Love

1 l'utting his hand on his paunch.

And thou too, on that orb so clear,

Ah! dost thou gaze at even, And think, though lost for ever here,

Thou'lt yet be mine in heaven?

THE YOUNG ROSE. The young rose which I give thee, so dewy and bright, Was the floweret most dear to the sweet bird of night, Who oft by the moon o'er her blushes hath hung, And thrill'd every leaf with the wild lay he sung. Oh! take thou this young rose, and let her life be Prolong'd by the breath she will borrow from thee! For, while o'er her bosom thy soft notes shall thrill, She'll think the sweet night-bird is courting her still.

There's not a garden walk I tread,

There's not a flower I see, love!
But brings to mind some hope that 's fled,

Some joy I've lost with thee, love!
And still I wish that hour was near,

When, friends and foes forgiven, The pains, the ills we've wept through here,

May turn to smiles in heaven!

WILL YOU COME TO THE BOWER? Will you come to the bower I have shaded for you? Our bed shall be roses all spangled with dew. Will you, will you, will you, will you

Come to the bower ?

WHEN IN LANGUOR SLEEPS THE

HEART.
When in languor sleeps the heart,
Love can wake it with his dart ;
When the mind is dull and dark,
Love can light it with his spark.
Come, oh! come then, let us haste,
All the bliss of love to taste;
Let us love both night and day,
Let us love our lives away!
And for hearts from loving free
(If indeed such hearts there be,)
May they ne'er the rapture prove
Of the smile from lips we love.

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WHEN 'MIDST THE GAY I MEET.
WHEN 'midst the gay I meet

That blessed smile of thine,
Though still on me it turns most sweet,

I scarce can call it mine:
But when to me alone

Your secret tears you show,
Oh ! then I feel those tears my own,

And claim them as they flow.
Then still with bright looks bless

The gay, the cold, the free;
Give smiles to those who love you less,

But keep your tears for me.
The snow on Jura's steep

Can smile with many a beam,
Yet still in chains of coldness sleep,

How bright soe'er it seem.
But, when some deep-felt ray,

Whose touch is fire, appears,
Oh! then the smile is warm'd away,

And, melting, turns to tears.
Then still with bright looks bless

The gay, the cold, the free;
Give smiles to those who love you less,

But keep your tears for me.

YOUNG JESSICA. Young Jessica sat all the day,

In love-dreams languishingly pining, Her needle bright neglected lay,

Like truant genius idly shining. Jessy, 't is in idle hearts

That love and mischief are most nimble ; The safest shield against the darts

Of Cupid, is Minerva's thimble.

A child who with a magnet play'd,

And knew its winning ways so wily, The magnet near the needle laid,

And laughing said, “We'll steal it slily.” The needle, having nought to do,

Was pleased to let the magnet wheedle, Till closer still the tempter drew,

And off, at length, eloped the needle.

WHEN TWILIGHT DEWS. When twilight dews are falling soft

Upon the rosy sea, love! I watch the star, whose beam so oft Has lighted me to thee, love!

Now, had this needle turn’d its eye

To some gay Ridicule's construction, It ne'er had stray'd from duty's tie,

Nor felt a magnet's sly seduction. Girls, would you keep tranquil hearts,

Your snowy fingers must be nimble; The safest shield against the darts

Of Cupid, is Minerva's thimble.

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