Like her delusive beam, It leaves no sting behind! Come twine the wreath our brows to shade, For tho' the flow'r's decay'd, SHE IS FAR FROM THE LAND. SHE is far from the land where her young hero sleeps, But coldly she turns from their gaze and weeps, She sings the wild song of her dear native plains, Ah! little they think, who delight in her strains, He had liv'd for his love, for his country he died Oh! make her a grave, where the sunbeams rest, They'll shine o'er her sleep, like a smile from the west, THE BUCKET. How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood, When fond recollection recalls them to view 1 The orchard, the meadow, the deep tangled wild-wood, The old oaken bucket-the iron-bound bucket- For often, at noon, when return'd from the field, I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure, The purest and sweetest that nature can yield; How ardent I sięz'd it with hands that were glowing, And quick to the white pebbled bottom it fell, Then soon with the emblem of truth overflowing, And dripping with coolness it rose from the well. The old oaken bucket, &c. How sweet from the green mossy brim to receive it, As fancy revisits my father's plantation, And sighs for the bucket which hangs in the wellThe old oaken bucket, &c. OFT IN THE STILLY NIGHT. OFT in the stilly night, Ere slumber's chain has bound me, Of other days around me; The smiles, the tears of boyhood's years, The words of love then spoken, The eyes that shone, now dimm'd and gone, Thus in the stilly night, &e. When I remember all The friends so link'd together, I've seen around me fall, Like leaves in winter weather, I feel like one, who treads alone Some banquet hall deserted, Whose lights are fled, whose garland 's dead, And all but he deserted. Thus in the stilly night, &c. THE CARRIER PIGEON. COME hither thou beautiful rover, Thou wand'rer of earth and of air; Who bear'st the sighs of the lover, And bringest him news of his fair. Bend hither thy light waving pinion, And shew me the gloss of thy neck; O! perch on my hand, dearest minion, And turn up thy bright eye and peck. Here's bread of the whitest and sweetest, And there is a sip of red wine; Though thy wing is the lightest and fleetest, "Twill be fleeter when nerv'd by the vine; I have written on rose-scented paper, With thy wing-quill, a soft billet-doux, I have melted the wax in love's taper, T'is the color of true hearts, sky blue. I have fasten'd it under thy pinion, With a blue ribbon round thy soft neck; So go from me, beautiful minion, While the pure ether shows not a speck. Like a cloud in the dim distance fleeting, Like an arrow he hurries away; And farther and farther retreating, He is lost in the clear blue of day. THE LAVENDER GIRL.. As the sun climbs o'er the hills, And trudge along the village merrily I keep my mother, myself and brother, Never saw ye nicer lavender; Come, come, buy my lavender. Ere the gentry quit their beds, Foes to health, I'm wisely keeping it; And sit beneath the hedge partaking it. Tell me then am not I bless'd? THE YOUNG TROUBADOUR. To the mountain's wild echo I warble my lays, Then I'll sing the old ditties of heroes that died, O! hearken then, lady, to-morrow i'm sure I REMEMBER, I REMEMBER. I REMEMBER, I remember The house where I was born, The sun came peeping in at morn; I remember, I remember I remember, I remember Where I was used to swing, I remember, I remember The fir trees dark and high: It was a childish ignorance, But now 'tis little joy |