LOVE, deceitful foe to truth,
Conquers reason, chains the mind,
Prudence oft would guide our youth,
But love, alas! alas! is blind.
Often thus when men deceive,
Silly maids to love inclin'd,"
Will too readily believe,
For love, true love, alas! is blind.
I WISH I WERE WHERE HELEN LIES
I WISH I were where Helen lies,
Night and day on me she cries
To bear her company!
O would that in her darksome bed
My weary frame to rest were laid,
From love and anguish free!
MY GENTLE BOY.
My gentle boy, my minstrel page!
Hie thee away and see,
If still thy lord the war doth wage,
Or comes he back to me?
Take thou this braid of auburn hair,
Shorn from my tresses bright!
Bid him the silken token wear,
As beauty's faithful knight.
My gentle page now speed thy way.
And hasten back to me;
Nor let thy lingering footsteps stay
The pomp of war to see.
Wait but to whisper. "In her bower
Thy lady's heart doth mourn;
As droops at eve the folded flower
Until the san's return."
THE BRIDAL STAR.
His white plume o'er the mountain streams,
My heart throbs with delight,
His corslet in the sunshine beams-
He comes, my peerless knight.
The banquet spread and music bring
From holy land afar;
His lady love shall welcome sing,
And touch her gay guitar,
The banquet spread, &c.
While songs of mirth and pastime strains
Are breathing soft around,
Hail, vassals, hail, till yonder plains
His welcome home resound.
I'll deck myself in all my best,
And wear my bridal star
And now he's laid his lance at rest,
I'll touch my gay guitar.
The banquet spread, &c.
THE day returns, my bosom burns,
The blissful day we twa did meet ;
Tho' winter wild in tempest toil'd,
Ne'er summer sun was half sae sweet.
Than a' the pride that loads the tide,
And crosses o'er the sultry line;
Than kingly robes, than crowns and globes, Heaven gave me more--it made thee mine.
While day and night can bring delight,
Or nature aught of pleasure give;
While joys above my mind can move,
For thee, and thee alone, I live!
When that grim foe of life below,
Comes in between to make us part;
The iron hand that breaks our band,
It breaks my bliss-it breaks my heart.
SWEET hope, thou art a sovereign balm
For hearts by sorrow wounded;
Thy smiles impart a tender calm,
É'en when by storms surrounded!
For, like the many tinted bow,
Grief's atmosphere thou cheerest,
And darker as the shadows grow,
The brighter thou appearest.
And though by every tongue reviled,
As treacherous, false, deceiving,-
Who hath not dried his tears, and smiled,
Thy promises believing?
Then still I'll court thy soothing power,
And thy sweet influence cherish;
To thee I'll cling in life's last hour,
Nor quit thee till I perish.
I'M A TOUGH, TRUE HEARTED SAILOR.
I'm a tough, true-hearted sailor,
Careless and all that, d'ye see,
Never at the times a railer,-
What is time or tide to me?
All must die when fate shall will it,
Providence ordains it so,
Every bullet has its billet.
Man the boat, boys-Yeo, heave yeo.
"Life's at best a sea of trouble,
He who fears it is a dunce;
Death, to me, an empty bubble,
I can never die but once.
Blood, if duty bids, I'll spill it.
Yet I have a tear for woe;"
Every bullet has its billet, &c.
Shrouded in a hammock, glory
Celebrates the falling brave;
Oh! how many, famed in story,
Sleep below, in ocean's cave.
Bring the can, boys-let us fill it,
Shall we shun the fight? oh, no!
Every bullet has its billet, &c.
SONS OF FREEDOM.
SONS of freedom, hear my story
Mercy well becomes the brave;
Humanity is Briton's glory,-
Pity and protect the slave!
Free-born daughters, who, possessing
Eyes that conquer, hearts that save,
Greet me with a sister's blessing,
Pity and protect the slave.
THE GIRL THAT I PRIZE.
WHILST the votary of Bacchus drives care from the
And the votary of pleasure defies all controul,
I don't envy their transports, such joys I despise,
While blest with the heart of the girl that I prize.
When smiling she meets me, I cannot reveal,
How charming she looks, or what joys I then feel;
While a blush paints her cheeks, and love brightens
her eyes,
I am blest with the heart of the girl that I prize.
JUST LIKE THEE
SWEETEST flow'rets blushing there
In balmy dew-drops that they bear,
Are beautiful, my lovely fair,
The moon that ripples in the stream,
With soft and yet with playful beam;
The landscape in the night's calm gleam
Seems but a sweet enchanting dream,
Just like thee.
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