NORA CREINA

ESBIA hath a beaming eye,

L

But no one knows for whom it beameth;
Right and left its arrows fly,

But what they aim at no one dreameth.
Sweeter 'tis to gaze upon

My Nora's lid that seldom rises;
Few its looks, but every one

Like unexpected light surprises!

O my Nora Creina, dear,
My gentle, bashful Nora Creina,
Beauty lies

In many eyes,

But Love in yours, my Nora Creina.

Lesbia wears a robe of gold,

But all so close the nymph hath laced it,
Not a charm of beauty's mold
Presumes to stay where nature placed it.
Oh! my Nora's gown for me,

That floats as wild as mountain breezes,
Leaving every beauty free

To sink or swell as Heaven pleases.
Yes, my Nora Creina, dear,
My simple, graceful Nora Creina,
Nature's dress

Is loveliness

The dress you wear, my Nora Creina.

Lesbia hath a wit refined,

But when its points are gleaming round us,
Who can tell if they're designed

To dazzle merely, or to wound us?

Pillowed on my Nora's heart,

In safer slumber Love reposes

Bed of peace! whose roughest part

Is but the crumpling of the roses.
O my Nora Creina dear,

My mild, my artless Nora Creina!
Wit, though bright,

Hath no such light

As warms your eyes, my Nora Creina.

OFT, IN THE STILLY NIGHT

FT, in the stilly night,

OFT

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 words of love then spoken;

The eyes that shone,

Now dimmed 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.

When I remember all

The friends, so linked together,

I've seen around me fall

Like leaves in wintry weather,

I feel like one

Who treads alone

Some banquet-hall deserted,

Whose lights are fled,

Whose garlands dead,

And all but him departed!

Thus, in the stilly night,

Ere slumber's chain has bound me,

Fond memory brings the light

Of other days around me.

O'

OH! BREATHE NOT HIS NAME

H! BREATHE not his name,-let it sleep in the shade,
Where cold and unhonored his relics are laid;

Sad, silent, and dark, be the tears that we shed, As the night-dew that falls on the grass o'er his head.

But the night-dew that falls, though in silence it weeps, Shall brighten with verdure the grave where he sleeps; And the tear that we shed, though in secret it rolls, Shall long keep his memory green in our souls.

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THE

The soul of music shed,

Now hangs as mute on Tara's walls

As if that soul were fled.

So sleeps the pride of former days,

So glory's thrill is o'er;

And hearts that once beat high for praise
Now feel that pulse no more.

No more to chiefs and ladies bright
The harp of Tara swells;

The chord alone that breaks at night
Its tale of ruin tells.

Thus Freedom now so seldom wakes

The only throb she gives

Is when some heart indignant breaks,
To show that still she lives.

SOUND THE LOUD TIMBREL

MIRIAM'S SONG

"And Miriam, the Prophetess, the sister of Aaron, took a timbrel in her hand; and all the women went out after her with timbrels and with dances.» - EXOD. xv. 20.

S

OUND the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea:

Jehovah has triumphed - his people are free!

Sing for the pride of the tyrant is broken:

His chariots, his horsemen, all splendid and brave-
How vain was their boast; for 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 triumphed — 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 looked out from his pillar of glory,
And all her brave thousands are dashed in the tide.
Sound the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea:
Jehovah has triumphed-his people are free!

"THOU ART, O GOD≫

"The day is thine, the night is also 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 1xxiv. 16, 17.

HOU art, O God, the life and light

THOU

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 eyes,
That 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.

THE BIRD LET LOOSE

HE bird let loose in eastern skies,

THE

When hastening fondly home,

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 shadows dim 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!