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Never saw the brook,
While I touch the string, etc. How the wise one smiled,
When safe o'er the torrent, At that youth, so wild,
Dripping from the current ! Sense went home to bed ;
Genius, left to shiver On the bank, 't is said, Died of that cold river!
While I touch the string, etc.
When the dance and feast are done,
Arm in arm as home we stray, How sweet to see the dawning sun
O'er her cheeks' warm blushes play! Then, then the farewell kiss,
And words whose parting tone Lingers still in dreams of bliss,
That haunt young hearts alone.
LOVE IS A HUNTER-BOY.
Languedocian Air. Love is a hunter-boy,
Who makes young hearts his prey, And in his nets of joy
Ensnares them night and day. In vain conceal'd they lie
Love tracks them every where; In vain aloft they fly
Love shoots them flying there. But 't is his joy most sweet,
At early dawn to trace The print of Beauty's feet,
And give the trembler chase. And most he loves through snow
To trace those footsteps fair, For then the boy doth know
None track'd before him there.
THEN, FARE THEE WELL!
Old English Air.
This world has now for us
ing thus ! Had we but known, since first we met,
Some few short hours of bliss, We might, in numbering them, forget The deep, deep pain of this, dear love! the deep, deep
pain of this ! But, no, alas ! we've never seen
One glimpse of pleasure's ray, But still there came some cloud between, And chased it all away, dear love! and chased it all
away! Yet, e'en coud those sad moments last,
Far dearer to my heart Were hours of grief, together past, Than years of mirth apart, dear love! than years of
mirth apart! Farewell ! our hope was born in fears,
And nursed 'mid vain regrets ! Like winter suns, it rose in tears, Like them in tears it sets, dear love! like them in
tears it sets!
COME, CHASE THAT STARTING TEAR
Ere mine to meet it springs ;
Whate'er to-morrow brings !
When all is dark'ning fast, Are hours like these we snatch from FateThe brightest and the last.
Then, chase that starting tear, etc.
But one bright hour allow,
In all its splendour, now!
Like waves that from the shore
Then, chase that starting tear, etc.
GAILY SOUNDS THE CASTANET.
Maltese Air. Gaily sounds the castanet,
Beating time to bounding feet, When, after daylight's golden set,
Maids and youths by moonlight meet. Oh! then, how sweet to move
Through all that maze of mirth, Lighted by those eyes we love
Beyond all eyes on earth. Then, the joyous banquet spread
On the cool and fragrant ground, With night's bright eye-beams overhead,
And still brighter sparkling round.
Into the loved one's ear,
To be thus whisper'd here.
JOYS OF YOUTH, HOW FLEETING :
Portuguese Air. Whisp'rings, hoard by wakeful maids,
To whom the night-stars guide usStolen walks through moonlight shades, With those we love beside us.
Hearts beating, at meeting,
Tears starting, at parting :
Sweet joys of youth, how fleeting!
HEAR ME BUT ONCE.
In which our love lies cold and dead,
Of joys now lost and charms now fled. Who could have thought the smile he wore,
When first we met, would fade away? Or that a chill would e'er come o'er
Those eyes so bright through many a day?
BRIGHT BE THY DREAMS!
Welch Air. Bright be thy dreams—may all thy weeping Turn into smiles while thou art sleeping :
Those by death or seas removed, Friends, who in thy spring-time knew thee,
All thou 'st ever prized or loved, In dreams come smiling to thee ! There may the child, whose love lay deepest, Dearest of all, come while thou sleepest ;
Still the same-no charm forgotNothing lost that life had given;
Or, if changed, but changed to what Thou 'lt find her yet in Heaven !
WHEN LOVE WAS A CHILD.
'Mong flowers the whole summer's day, One morn in the valley a bower he found,
So sweet, it allured him to stay
A fountain ran darkly beneath'T was Pleasure that hung the bright flowers up there;
Love knew it, and jump'd at the wreath.
What urchin was likely to know ?-
That fountain which murmur'd below.
As boys when impatient will do-
And the flowers were all wet through.
And, though it all sunny appears
Still tastes of the Fountain of Tears.
GO, THEN—'T IS VAIN.
Sicilian Air.. Go, then 't is vain to hover
Thus round a hope that's dead! At length my dream is over,
'T was sweet-'t was false—'t is filed! Farewell; since nought it moves thee,
Such truth as mine to see, Some one, who far less loves thee,
Perhaps more bless'd will be. Farewell, sweet eyes, whose brightness
New life around me shed ! Farewell, false heart, whose lightness
Now leaves me death instead! Go, now, those charms surrender
To some new lover's sigh, One who, though far less tender,
May be more bless'd than I.
SAY, WHAT SHALL BE OUR SPORT
There's nothing on earth, in sea, or air,
For spirits like mine to dare ! "T is like the returning bloom
of those days, alas! gone by, When I loved each hour-I scarce knew whom,
And was bless'd scarce knew why. Ay, those were days when life had wings,
And flew-oh, flew so wild a height, That, like the lark which sunward springs,
"T was giddy with too much light;
With that sun, too, nearly set,
For a few gay soarings yet.
THE CRYSTAL HUNTERS.
Swiss Air. O'ER mountains bright with snow and light.
We Crystal Hunters speed along,
Each instant echo to our song ;
mountains bright with snow and light, We Crystal Hunters speed along. While grots and caves, and icy waves,
Each instant echo to our song. No lover half so fondly dreams
Of sparkles from his lady's eyes, As we of those refreshing gleams
That tell where deep the crystal lies; Though, next to crystal, we too grant That ladies' eyes may most enchant.
O'er mountains, etc. Sometimes, when o'er the Alpine rose,
The golden sunset leaves its ray, So like a gem the flow'ret glows,
We thither hend our headlong wav,
And, though we find no treasure there, Short as the Persian's prayer, his prayer at close of We bless the rose that shines so fair.
day, O'er mountains, etc.
Must be each vow of Love's repeating ;
Even while he kneels that ray is fleeting !
PEACE TO THE SLUMBERERS !
Catalonian Air. tide, That not an ear on earth may hear, but hers to whom PEACE to the slumberers ! we glide.
They lie on the battle plain, Had Heaven but tongues to speak, as well as starry
With no shroud to cover them; eyes to see,
The dew and the summer rain Oh! think what tales 't would have to tell of wand'ring Are all that weep over them. youths like me!
Vain was their bravery !
The fallen oak lies where it lay, Now rest thee here, my gondolier; hush, hush, for
Across the wintry river; up I go,
But brave hearts, once swept away, To climb yon light balcony's height, wbile thou keep'st watch below.
Are gone, alas ! for ever. Ah! did we take for heaven above but half such Woe to the conqueror! pains as we
Our limbs shall lie as cold as theirs
Ere we forget the deep arrears
OH! DAYS OF YOUTH.
Why thus for ever haunt my view ?
Why did not Memory die there too ? Vainly doth Hope her strain now sing me,
Whispering of joys that yet remainNo, no, never can this life bring me
One joy that equal's youth's sweet pain. Dim lies the way to death before me,
Cold winds of Time blow round my brow; Sunshine of youth that once fell o'er me,
Where is your warmth, your glory now? 'Tis not that then no pain could sting me
”T is not that now no joys remain ; Oh! it is that life no more can bring me
One joy so sweet as that worst pain.
WHEN THOU SHALT WANDER.
We used to gaze on so many an eve,
Ere I could doubt or thou deceive-
That love like ours was far too sweet
When past the summer's heat ;
WHEN FIRST THAT SMILE.
Oh! what a vision then came o'er me !
Seem'd in that smile to pass before me.
And of the joy their light was bringing.
Oh! woman's faith is like her brightness,
Or aught that 's known for grace and lightness.
WHO'LL BUY MY LOVE-KNOTS ?
“Who'll buy my love-knots ?
Who 'll buy my love-knots ?”
“Who 'll buy my love-knots ?
Who 'll bay my love-knots ?"
“ Here are knots," said Hymen, taking Some loose flowers, “ of Love's own making ; Here are gold ones you may trust 'em"(These, of course, found ready custom.)
“Come buy my love-knots !
Come buy my love-knots ! Some are labellid .Knots to tie men'‘Love the maker'— Bought of Hymen.'' Scarce their bargains were completed, When the nymphs all cried, “We're cheated ! See these flowers—they 're drooping sadly; This gold-knot, too, ties but badly
Who'd buy such love-knots ?
Who'd buy such love-knots ? Even this tie, with Love's name round itAll a sham—he never bound it.” Love, who saw the whole proceeding, Would have laugh’d, but for good-breeding; While Old Hymen, who was used to Cries like that these dames gave loose to
“Take back our love-knots!
Take back our love-knots !"Coolly said, “There's no returning Wares on Hymen's hands—Good morning !"
That none, in all our vales and groves,
Ere caught so much small game: While gentle Sue, less given to roam,
When Cloe's nets were taking These flights of birds, sat still at home, One small, neat Love-cage making.
Come, listen, maids, etc. Much Cloe laugh'd at Susan's task;
But mark how things went on:
Their name and age, were gone!
That, though she charm'd into them
Come, listen, maids, etc.
Meanwhile, young Sue, whose cage was wrougho
Of bars too strong to sever,
And caged him there for ever;
Whate'er their looks or ages,
'Tis wiser to make Cages. Thus, maidens, thus do I beguile
The task your fingers ply-
Ah! not like Cloe sigh!
SEE, THE DAWN FROM HEAVEN.
Sung at Rome, on Christmas Eve. SEE, the dawn from heaven is breaking o'er our sight, And Earth, from sin awaking, hails the sight! See, those groups of Angels, winging from the realms
above, On their sunny brows from Eden bringing wreaths
of Hope and Love.
WHEN THROUGH THE PIAZZETTA
Venetian Air. When through the Piazzetta
Night breathes her cool air, Then, dearest Ninetta,
I'll come to thee there.
I'll know thee afar,
His own Evening Star.
In garb, then, resembling
Some gay gondolier,
“Our bark, love, is near : Now, now, while there hover
Those clouds o'er the moon, 'T will waft thee safe over
Yon silent Lagoon."
NETS AND CAGES.
Your needle's task you ply;
While some, perhaps, may sigh.
Such florid songs as ours,
Can speak her thoughts by flowers.
Your needle's task you ply;
While some, perhaps, will sigh.
Such nets had learn'd to frame,
GO, NOW, AND DREAM.
Sicilian Air. Go, now, and dream o'er that joy in thy slumoer Moments so sweet again ne'er shalt thou number Of Pain's bitter draught the flavour never flies, While Pleasure's scarce touches the lip ere it dies That moon, which hung o'er your parting, so splendis Often will shine again, bright as she then did — But, ah! never more will the beam she saw burn In those happy eyes at your meeting return.
TAKE HENCE THE BOWL.
“I come, my love!” each sound they utter seems to
say i Neapolitan Air.
“ I come, my love ! thine, thine till break of day.” Take hence the bowl ; though beaming
Oh! weak the power of words,
The hues of painting dim,
Compared to what those simple chords
Then say and paint to him.
As in a wizard's glass,
WHEN THE FIRST SUMMER BEE.
When the first summer bee
O'er the young rose shall hover,
Then, like that gay rover,
I'll come to thee.
He to flowers, I to lips, full of sweets to the brimThen, then the cup before me
What a meeting, what a meeting for me and him! Seems turning all to tears.
Then, to every bright tree
In the garden he'll wander
While I, oh! much fonder,
Will stay with thee.
In search of new sweetness through thousands he"
run, Venetian Air.
While I find the sweetness of thousands in one. FAREWELL, Theresa ! that cloud which over
Yon moon this moment gath'ring we see, Shall scarce from her pure path have pass'd, ere thy lover
THOUGH 'T IS ALL BUT A DREAM Swift o'er the wide wave shall wander from thee.
Though 't is all but a dream at the best, Long, like that dim cloud, I've hung around thee,
And still when happiest soonest o'er, Dark’ning thy prospects, sadd'ning thy brow;
Yet, even in a dream to be bless'd With gay heart, Theresa, and bright cheek I found
Is so sweet, that I ask for no more. thee;
The bosom that opes with earliest hopes, Oh! think how changed, love, how changed art
The soonest finds those hopes untrue, thou now!
As flowers that first in spring-time burst, But here I free thee: like one awaking
The earliest wither too! From fearful slumber, this dream thou'lt tell;
Ay—'t is all but a dream, etc. The bright moon her spell too is breaking,
By friendship we oft are deceived,
And find the love we clung to past;
And love trusted on to the last.
The web in the leaves the spider weaves
Is like the charm Hope hangs o'er men;
Though often she sees it broke by the breeze,
She spins the bright tissue again.
Ay—'t is all but a dream, etc.
I from my casement lean.
'T IS WHEN THE CUP IS SMILING. say;
Italian Air. “Oh! come, my love! the night wears fast away! No, ne'er to mortal ear
'Tis when the cup is smiling before us, Can words, though warm they be,
And we pledge round to hearts that are true, boy Speak Passion's language half so clear
true, As do those notes to me!
That the sky of this life opens o'er us,
And Heaven gives a glimpse of its blue. Then quick my own light lute I seek,
Talk of Adam in Eden reclining, And strike the chords with loudest swell;
We are better, far better off thus, boy, thus ; And, though they nought to others speak,
For him but two bright eyes were shiningHe knows their language well.
See what numbers are sparkling for us!