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, While the grape on its bank still is growing, And such eyes light the waves as they run.

WHERE SHALL WE BURY OUR SHAME?

Neapolitan Air.

WHERE shall we bury our shame?
Where, in what desolate place,
Hide the last wreck of a name

Broken and stain'd by disgrace?
Death may dissever the chain,

Oppression will cease when we're gone :

But the dishonour, the stain,

Die as we may, will live on

Was it for this we sent out

Liberty's cry from our shore? Was it for this that her shout

Thrill'd to the world's very core? Thus to live cowards and slaves,

Oh! ye free hearts that lie dead! Do you not, e'en in your graves,

Shudder, as o'er you we tread?

NE'ER TALK OF WISDOM'S GLOOMY
SCHOOLS.
Mahratta Air.

NE'ER talk of Wisdom's gloomy schools;
Give me the sage who's able

To draw his moral thoughts and rules
From the sunshine of the table;-
Who learns how lightly, fleetly pass
This world and all that 's in it,
From the bumper that but crowns his glass,
And is gone again next minute.

The diamond sleeps within the mine,

The pearl beneath the water,

While Truth, more precious, dwells in wine,
The grape's own rosy daughter!
And none can prize her charms like him,
Oh! none like him obtain her,

Who thus can, like Leander, swim
Through sparkling floods to gain her!

HERE SLEEPS THE BARD!
Highland Air.

HERE sleeps the Bard who knew so well
All the sweet windings of Apollo's shell,
Whether its music roll'd like torrents near,
Or died, like distant streamlets, on the ear!
Sleep, mute Bard! unheeded now,

The storm and zephyr sweep thy lifeless brow;—
That storm, whose rush is like thy martial lay;
That breeze which, like thy love-song, dics away

Sloperton Cottage, Devizes, May 22, 1824.

THOMAS MOORE

No. I.

THOU ART, OH GOD! Air-UNKNOWN.'

"The day is thine; the night also is thine: thou hast prepared the light and the sun.

"Thou hast set all the borders of the earth; thou hast made summer and winter."-Psalm lxxiv. 16, 17.

THOU art, oh God! the life and light
Of all this wondrous world we see ;
Its glow by day, its smile by night,

Are but reflections caught from thee.
Where'er we turn thy glories shine,
And all things fair and bright are Thine!

When Day, with farewell beam, delays
Among the opening clouds of Even,
And we can almost think we gaze

Through golden vistas into heaven-
Those hues, that make the sun's decline
So soft, so radiant, Lord! are Thine.

When Night, with wings of starry gloom,

O'ershadows all the earth and skies, Like some dark, beauteous bird, whose plume Is sparkling with unnumbered eyesThat sacred gloom, those fires divine, So grand, so countless, Lord! are Thine. When youthful Spring around us breathes, Thy Spirit warms her fragrant sigh; And every flower the Summer wreathes Is born beneath that kindling eye. Where'er we turn, thy glories shine, And all things fair and bright are Thine!

THIS WORLD IS ALL A FLEETING SHOW. Air-STEVENSON.

THIS world is all a fleeting show,

For man's illusion given;

1 I have heard that this air is by the late Mrs. Sheridan. It is sung to the beautiful old words, "I do confess thou'rt smooth and fair."

The smiles of Joy, the tears of Woe,
Deceitful shine, deceitful flow-

There's nothing true but heaven!
And false the light on Glory's plume,

As fading hues of Even;

And Love, and Hope, and Beauty's bloom Are blossoms gather'd for the tomb,

There's nothing bright but heaven! Poor wanderers of a stormy day,

From wave to wave we're driven, And fancy's flash, and Reason's ray, Serve but to light the troubled wayThere's nothing calm but heaven!

FALLEN IS THY THRONE.
Air-MARTINI.
FALLEN is thy throne, oh Israel!
Silence is o'er thy plains;
Thy dwellings all lie desolate,
Thy children weep in chains.
Where are the dews that fed thee
On Etham's barren shore?
That fire from heaven which led thee,
Now lights thy path no more.

Lord! thou didst love Jerusalem-
Once she was all thy own;
Her love thy fairest heritage,'
Her power thy glory's throne :2
Till evil came, and blighted
Thy long-loved olive-tree;3
And Salem's shrines were lighted
For other Gods than Thee!

Then sunk the star of Solyma-
Then pass'd her glory's day,
Like heath that, in the wilderness,
The wild wind whirls away.

1 "I have left mine heritage; I have given the dearly-beloved of my soul into the hands of her enemies."-Jeremiah xii. 7.

2"Do not disgrace the throne of thy glory."-Jer. xiv. 21. 3 "The Lord called thy name a green olive-tree; fair and of goodly fruit," etc.-Jer. xi. 16.

4 "For he shall be like the heath in the desert."-Jer xvii. 6.

Silent and waste her bowers, Where once the mighty trod, And sunk those guilty towers, While Baal reign'd as God!

"Go," said the Lord-"Ye conquerors!
Steep in her blood your swords,
And rase to earth her battlements,'
For they are not the Lord's!
Till Zion's mournful daughter

O'er kindred bones shall tread,
And Hinnom's vale of slaughter2
Shall hide but half her dead!"

Ne'er stoops to earth her wing, nor flies Where idle warblers roam.

But high she shoots through air and light, Above all low delay,

Where nothing earthly bounds her flight,
Nor shadow dims her way.

So grant me, God! from every care
And stain of passion free,
Aloft, through Virtue's purer air,

To hold my course to Thee!
No sin to cloud-no lure to stay
My Soul, as home she springs ;-
Thy sunshine on her joyful way,
Thy freedom in her wings!

WHO IS THE MAID?

ST. JEROME'S LOVE.3

Air-BEETHOVEN.

WHO is the maid my spirit seeks,

Through cold reproof and slander's blight? Has she Love's roses on her cheeks?

Is her's an eye of this world's light?
No,-wan and sunk with midnight prayer
Are the pale looks of her I love;
Or if, at times, a light be there,

Its beam is kindled from above.

I chose not her, my soul's elect,

From those who seek their Maker's shrine In gems and garlands proudly deck'd,

As if themselves were things divine!
No-Heaven but faintly warms the breast
That beats beneath a broider'd veil;
And she who comes in glittering vest
To mourn her frailty, still is frail.*

Not so the faded form I prize

And love, because its bloom is gone;
The glory in those sainted eyes

Is all the grace her brow puts on.
And ne'er was Beauty's dawn so bright,
So touching as that form's decay,
Which, like the altar's trembling light,
In holy lustre wastes away!

THE BIRD, LET LOOSE.
Air-BEETHOVEN.

THE bird, let loose in eastern skies,

When hastening fondly home,

1 "Take away her battlements; for they are not the Lord's."-Jer. v. 10.

2 "Therefore, behold, the days come, saith the Lord, that it shall no more be cailed Tophet, nor the Valley of the Son of Hinnom, but the Valley of Slaughter; for they shall bury in Tophet till there be no place."-Jer. vii. 32.

3 These lines were suggested by a passage in St. Jerome's reply to some calumnious remarks that had been circulated upon his intimacy with the matron Paula :--" Numquid me vestes serice, nitentes gemmæ, picta facies, aut auri rapuit ambitio? Nulla fuit alia Rome matronarum, quæ meam possit edomare mentem, nisi lugens atque jejunans, fletu pene cæcata."-- Epist. "Si tibi putem."

4 ου γαρ χρυσοφορείν την δακρύουσαν δει.-Chrysost. Homil. 8. in Epist. ad Tim.

5 The carrier-pigeon, it is well known, flies at an elevated pitch, in order to surmount every obstacle between her and the place to which she is destined.

OH! THOU WHO DRY'ST THE MOURN-
ER'S TEAR!
Air-HAYDN.

"He healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds."-Psalm cxlvii. 3.

OH! Thou who dry'st the mourner's tear,
How dark this world would be,
If, when deceived and wounded here,
We could not fly to Thee.
The friends who in our sunshine live,
When winter comes, are flown;
And he who has but tears to give,

Must weep those tears alone.
But Thou wilt heal that broken heart,
Which, like the plants that throw
Their fragrance from the wounded part,
Breathes sweetness out of woe.

When joy no longer soothes or cheers,
And even the hope that threw

A moment's sparkle o'er our tears,

Is dimm'd and vanish'd too!

Oh! who would bear life's stormy doom,

Did not thy wing of love

Come, brightly wafting through the gloom

Our peace-branch from above?

Then sorrow, touch'd by Thee, grows bright
With more than rapture's ray;

As darkness shows us worlds of light
We never saw by day!

WEEP NOT FOR THOSE.
Air-AVISON.

WEEP not for those whom the veil of the tomb,
In life's happy morning, hath hid from our eyes,
Ere sin threw a blight o'er the spirit's young bloom,
Or earth had profaned what was born for the skies
Death chill'd the fair fountain ere sorrow had stain'd it,
"T was frozen in all the pure light of its course,
And but sleeps till the sunshine of heaven has un-
chain'd it,

To water that Eden where first was its source! Weep not for those whom the veil of the tomb,

In life's happy morning, hath hid from our eyes,

Ere sin threw a blight o'er the spirit's young bloom,
Or earth had profaned what was born for the skies.
Mourn not for her, the young Bride of the Vale,'
Our gayest and loveliest, lost to us now,
Ere life's early lustre had time to grow pale,

And the garland of love was yet fresh on her brow! Oh! then was her moment, dear spirit, for flying

SOUND THE LOUD TIMBREL.

MIRIAM'S SONG.

Air-AVISON.'

known

And the wild hymns she warbled so sweetly, in dying, Were echoed in heaven by lips like her own! Weep not for her,-in her spring-time she flew

To that land where the wings of the soul are unfurl'd,

And now, like a star beyond evening's cold dew, Looks radiantly down on the tears of this world.

THE TURF SHALL BE MY FRAGRANT SHRINE.

Air-STEVENSON.

THE turf shall be my fragrant shrine;
My temple, Lord! that Arch of thine;
My censer's breath the mountain airs,
And silent thoughts my only prayers.2

My choir shall be the moonlight waves,
When murmuring homeward to their caves,
Or when the stillness of the sea,
Even more than music, breathes of Thee!

I'll seek, by day, some glade unknown,
All light and silence, like thy throne!
And the pale stars shall be, at night,
The only eyes that watch my rite.

Thy heaven, on which 't is bliss to look,
Shall be my pure and shining book,
Where I shall read, in words of flame,
The glories of thy wondrous name.

I'll read thy anger in the rack

That clouds awhile the day-beam's track; Thy mercy in the azure hue

Of sunny brightness breaking through!

There's nothing bright, above, below,
From flowers that bloom to stars that glow,
But in its light my soul can see
Some feature of the Deity!

There's nothing dark, below, above,
But in its gloom I trace thy love,
And meekly wait that moment when
Thy touch shall turn all bright again!

1 This second verse, which I wrote long after the first, alludes to the fate of a very lovely and amiable girl, the daughter of the late Colonel Bainbrigge, who was married 10 Ashbourne church, October 31, 1815, and died of a fever in a few weeks after the sound of her marriage-bells seemed scarcely out of our ears when we heard of her death. During her last delirium she sung several hymns, in a voice even clearer and sweeter than usual, and among them were some from the present collection (particularly, "There's nothing bright but Heaven,") which this very interesting girl had often heard during the summer.

2 Pi orunt tacite.

SOUND the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea!
Jehovah has triumph'd,-his people are free.
Sing-for the pride of the tyrant is broken,

His chariots, his horsemen, all splendid and braveHow vain was their boasting!-The Lord hath but spoken,

And chariots and horsemen are sunk in the wave. Sound the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea! Jehovah has triumph'd,-his people are free.

Praise to the Conqueror, praise to the Lord!
His word was our arrow, his breath was our sword!--
Who shall return to tell Egypt the story

Of those she sent forth in the hour of her pride? For the Lord hath look'd out from his pillar of glory,2

And all her brave thousands are dash'd in the tide Sound the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea! Jehovah has triumph'd,-his people are free.

GO, LET ME WEEP!
Air-STEVENSON.

Go, let me weep! there's bliss in tears,
When he who sheds them inly feels
Some lingering stain of early years
Effaced by every drop that steals.
The fruitless showers of worldly woe
Fall dark to earth, and never rise;
While tears that from repentance flow,

In bright exhalement reach the skies.
Go, let me weep! there's bliss in tears,
When he who sheds them inly feels
Some lingering stain of early years

Effaced by every drop that steals.

Leave me to sigh o'er hours that flew
More idly than the summer's wind,
And, while they pass'd, a fragrance threw,
But left no trace of sweets behind.-
The warmest sigh that pleasure heaves
Is cold, is faint to those that swell
The heart where pure repentance grieves
O'er hours of pleasure loved too well!
Leave me to sigh o'er days that flew

More idly than the summer's wind,
And, while they pass'd, a fragrance threw,
But left no trace of sweets behind.

1 I have so altered the character of this air, which is from the beginning of one of Avison's old-fashioned concertos, that, without this acknowledgment, it could hardly I think, be recognised.

2 "And it came to pass, that, in the morning-watch, the Lord looked unto the host of the Egyptians, through the pillar of fire and of the cloud, and troubled the host of the Egyptians."-Exod. xiv. 24.

COME NOT, OH LORD! Air-HAYDN.

COME not, oh Lord! in the dread robe of splendour
Thou worest on the Mount, in the day of thine ire;
Come veil'd in those shadows, deep, awful, but tender,
Which Mercy flings over thy features of fire!
Lord! thou rememberest the night, when thy nation'
Stood fronting her foe by the red-rolling stream;
On Egypt thy pillar frown'd dark desolation,
While Israel bask'd all the night in its beam.
So, when the dread clouds of anger enfold thee,
From us, in thy mercy, the dark side remove;
While shrouded in terrors the guilty behold thee,
Oh! turn upon us the mild light of thy Love!

WERE NOT THE SINFUL MARY'S TEARS. Air-STEVENSON.

WERE not the sinful Mary's tears

An offering worthy heaven,
When o'er the faults of former years
She wept-and was forgiven?-
When, bringing every balmy sweet
Her day of luxury stored,
She o'er her Saviour's hallow'd feet
The precious perfumes pour'd;—

And wiped them with that golden hair,
Where once the diamond shone,
Though now those gems of grief were there
Which shine for God alone!

Were not those sweets so humbly shed,

That hair-those weeping eyes,-
And the sunk heart, that inly bled,-

Heaven's noblest sacrifice?

Thou that hast slept in error's sleep,
Oh wouldst thou wake in heaven,
Like Mary kneel, like Mary weep,
"Love much"-and be forgiven!

AS DOWN IN THE SUNLESS RETREATS.
Air-HAYDN.

As down in the sunless retreats of the ocean,
Sweet flowers are springing no mortal can see,
So, deep in my soul the still prayer of devotion,
Unheard by the world, rises silent to thee,
My God! silent to thee-
Pure, warm, silent, to thee:

So, deep in my soul the still prayer of devotion,
Unheard by the world, rises silent to thee!

1 "And it came between the camp of the Egyptians and the camp of Israel; and it was a cloud and darkness to them, but it gave light by night to these."-Exod. xiv. 20. My application of this passage is borrowed from some late prose writer, whose name I am ungrateful enough to forget. 2 Instead of" On Egypt" here, it will suit the music better to sing "On these;" and in the third line of the next verse, "While shrouded" may, with the same view, be altered to "While wrapp'd."

3" Her sins, which are many, are forgiven; for she loved much."-St. Luke vii. 47.

As still to the star of its worship, though clouded,
The needle points faithfully o'er the dim sea,
So, dark as I roam, in this wintry world shrouded,
The hope of my spirit turns trembling to thee,
My God! trembling to thee-
True, fond, trembling, to thee:
So, dark as roam, in this wintry world shrouded.
The hope of my spirit turns trembling to thee!

BUT WHO SHALL SEE.
Air-STEVENSON.

BUT who shall see the glorious day;
When, throned on Zion's brow,
The Lord shall rend that veil away
Which hides the nations now!!
When earth no more beneath the fear
Of his rebuke shall lie;2

When pain shall cease, and every tear
Be wiped from every eye!3

Then, Judah! thou no more shalt mourn
Beneath the heathen's chain;

Thy days of splendour shall return,

And all be new again.4

The Fount of Life shall then be quaff'd

In peace, by all who come!"

And every wind that blows shall waft
Some long-lost exile home!

ALMIGHTY GOD!

CHORUS OF PRIESTS.

Air-MOZART.

ALMIGHTY God! when round thy shrine
The palm-tree's heavenly branch we twine,
(Emblem of Life's eternal ray,

And Love that "fadeth not away,")
We bless the flowers, expanded all,'
We bless the leaves that never fall,
And trembling say, "In Eden thus
The Tree of Life may flower fo. us!"

When round thy cherubs, smiling calm

Without their flames, we wreath the palm,

1 "And he will destroy in this mountain the face of the covering cast over all people, and the veil that is spread over all nations."-Isaiah xxv. 7.

2 "The rebuke of his people shall he take away from off all the earth."-Isaiah xxv. 8.

3 "And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes, neither shall there be any more pain."-Rev. xxi. 4.

4"And he that sat upon the throne said, Behold, I make all things new."-Rev. xxi. 5.

5 "And whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely."-Rev. xxii. 17.

6 The Scriptures having declared that the Temple of Jerusalem was a type of the Messiah, it is natural to conclude that the Palms, which made so conspicuous a figure in that structure, represented that Life and Immortality which were brought to light by the Gospel."-Observations on the Palm, as a sacred Emblem, by W. Tigbe.

7" And he carved all the walls of the house round about with carved figures of cherubims, and palm-trees, and open flowers."-1 Kings vi. 29.

8" When the passover of the tabernacles was revealed to the great law-giver in the mount, then the cherubic images which appeared in that structure were no longer surrounded by flames; for the tabernacle was a type of the dispensation of mercy, by which Jehovah confirmed his gracious cove nant to redeem mankind."-Observations on the Palm