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TIS WHEN THE CUP IS SMILING. Was it for this that her shout

Thrilled to the world's very core ? Italian Air.

Thus to live cowards and slaves, 'Tis when the cup is smiling before us, Do you not, e'en in your graves,

Ob ! ye free hearts that lie dead ! And we pledge round to hearts that

Shudder, as o'er you we tread ? are true, boy, true, That the sky of this life opens o'er us, And Heaven gives a glimpse of its blue.

NE'ER TALK OF WISDOM'S Talk of Adam in Eden reclining,

GLOOMY SCHOOLS. We are better, far better off thus,

Mahratta Air, boy, thus; For him but two bright eyes were shin- Ne’ER talk of Wisdom's gloomy schools;

ingSee what numbers are sparkling for us! To draw his moral thoughts and rules

Give me the sage who's able

From the sunshine of the table ;Wheu on one side the grape-juice is Who learns how lightly, fleetly pass dancing,

This world and all that's in it, And on t'other a blue eye beams, boy, From the bumper that but crowns his. beams,

glass, 'Tis enough, 'twixt the wine and the

And is gone again next minute. glancing, To disturb even a saint from his The diamond sleeps within the mine, dreams.

The pearl beneath the water; Though this life like a river is flowing, While Truth, more precious, dwells in I care not how fast it goes on, boy, wine, on,

The grape's own rosy daughter ! While the grape on its bank still is And none can prize her charms like him, growing,

Oh ! none like him obtaid her, And such eyes light the waves as Who thus can, like Leander, swim they run.

Through sparkling floods to gain her!

WHERE SHALL WE BURY OUR

HERE SLEEPS THE BARD!
SHAME?

Highland Air.
Neapolitan Air.

HERE sleeps the Bard who knew so well WHERE shall we bury our shame? All the sweet windings of Apollo's shell,

Where, in what desolate place, Whether its music rolled like torrents Hide the last wreck of a name

near, Broken and stained by disgrace? Or died, like distant streamlets, on the Death

may
dissever the chain,

ear! Oppression will cease when we're Sleep, mute Bard ! unheeded now. gone ;

The storm and zephyr sweep thy life. But the dishonour, the stain,

less brow ;Die as we may, will live on.

That storm, whose rush is like thy mar.

tial lay; Was it for this we sent out

That breeze which, like thy love-songsLiberty's cry from our shore ?

dies away!

DO NOT SAY THAT LIFE IS N0–LEAVE MY HEART TO REST. WANING.

No-leave my heart to rest, if rest it

may, Do not say that life is waning,

When youth, and love, and hope, bave Or that Hope's sweet day is set ; While I've thee and love remaining,

passed away;

Couldst thou, when summer hours are Life is in th' horizon yct.

fied,

To some poor leaf that's fall'n and Do not think those charms are flying, dead,

Though thy roses fade and fall; Bring back the hue it wore, the scent Beauty hath a grace undying,

it shed ? Which in thee survives them all. No-leave this heart to rest, if rest it

may Not for charms, the newest, brightest,

When youth, and love, and hope, have That on other cheeks may shine,

passed away. Would I change the least, the slightest, That is ling'ring now o'er thine. Oh, had I meet thee then, when life

was bright, Thy smile might still have fed its tran

quil light;

But now thou com’st like sunny skies,
THE GAZELLE.

Too late to cheer the seaman's eyes,
When wrecked and lost his bark before

him lies!
Dost thou not hear the silver bell
Through yonder lime-trees ringing ?

No-leave this heart to rest, if rest it 'Tis my lady's light gazelle,

may, To me her love thoughts bringing, - Since youth, and love, and hope, have All the while that silver bell

passed away. Around his dark neck ringing.

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Fondly I looked, when the wizard had | And though as Time gathers his clouis spoken,

o'er our head, And there, 'mid the dim shining ruins A shade somewhat darker o'er life they of day,

may spread, Saw, by their liglit, like a talisman Transparent, at least, be the shadow broken,

they cast, The last golden fragments of hope So that Love's softened light may shine

through to the last.

melt away.

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WIND THY HORN, MY HUNTER SLUMBER, OH SLUMBER.
BOY.

SLUMBER, oh slumber; if sleeping WIND thy horn, my hunter boy,

thou mak'st And leave thy lute's inglorious siglis; My heart beat so wildly, I'm lost if thou

wak'st." Hunting is the hero's joy, Till war his nobler game supplies.

Thus sung I to a maiden, Hark! the hound-bells ringing sweet,

Who slept one summer's day, While hunters shout, and the woods

And, like a flower o'erladen

With too much sunshine, lay. repeat, Hilli-ho! Hilli-ho!

Slumber, oh slumber, &c. Wind again thy cheerful horn,

“ Breathe not, oh breathe not, ye winds,

o'er her cheeks ; Till echo, faint with answ'ring, dies : Burn, bright torches, burn till morn,

If mute thus she charm me, I'm loss And lead us where the wild boar lies.

when she speaks.” Hark! the cry, “He's found, he's

Thus sing I, while, awaking, found,”

She murmurs words that seem While hill and valley our shouts re

As if her lips were taking

Farewell of some sweet dream. sound, Hilli-ho! Hilli-ho!

Breathe not, ob breathe not,

&c.

OH, GUARD OUR AFFECTION.

BRING THE BRIGHT GARLANDS OH, guard our affection, nor e'er let it

HITHER. feel The blight that this world o'er the BRING the bright garlands hither, warmest will steal :

Ere yet a leaf is dying ; While the faith of all round us is If so soon they must wither, fading or past,

Ours be their last sweet sighing. Let ours, ever green, keep its bloom to Hark, that low dismal chime ! the last.

'Tis the dreary voice of Time.

Oh, bring beauty, bring roses, Far safer for Love 'tis to wake and to

Bring all that yet is ours; weep,

Let life's day, as it closes, As he used in his prime, than go Shine to the last through flowers.

smiling to sleep ; For death on his slumber, cold death Haste, ere the bowl's declining, follows fast,

Drink of it now or never ; While the love that is wakeful lives on Now, while Beauty is shining, to the last.

Love, or she's lost for ever,

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Hark! again that dull chime, WHEN ABROAD IN THE WORLD. ''Tis the dreary voice of Time. Oh, if life be a torrent,

WAEN abroad in the world thou apDown to oblivion going,

pearest, Like this cup be its current,

And the young and the lovely are Bright to the last drop flowing !

there, To my heart while of all thou'rt tlic

dearest,

To my eyes thou'rt of all the most IF IN LOVING, SINGING.

fair.

They pass, one by one, If in loving, singing, night and day,

Like waves of the sea,
We could trifle merrily life away,

That say to the sun,
Like atoms dancing in the beam,
Like day.flies skimming o'er the stream,

See, how fair we can be."

But where's the light like thine, Or summer blossoms, born to sigh

In sun or shade to shine ? Their sweetness out, and dieHow brilliant, thoughtless, side by side, No-no, ’mong them all, there is no. Thou and I could make our minutes

thing like thee, glide!

Nothing like thee. No atoms ever glanced so bright,

Oft, of old, without farewell or warning, No day-flies ever danced so light,

Beauty's self used to steal from the Nor summer blossoms mixed their sigh,

skies ; So close as thou and I !

Fling a mist round her head some fine

morning,

And post down to earth in disguise ; THOU LOV'ST NO MORE.

But, no matter what shroud

Around her might be, Too plain, alas ! my doom is spoken,

Men peeped through the cloud, Nor canst thou veil the sad truth o'er ;

And whispered, " 'Tis she.” Thy heart is changed, thy vow

So thou, where thousands are, broken,

Shin'st forth the only star, Thou lov'st no more-thou lov’st no Yes, yes, 'mong them all, there is no.

thing like thee, more.

Nothing like thee.
Though kindly still those eyes behold me,
The smile is gone which once they
wore ;

KEEP THOSE EYES STILL Though fondly still those arms enfold me,

PURELY MINE, 'Tis not the same—thou lov'st no

KEEP those eyes still purely mine,

Though far off I be :
Too long my dream of bliss believing, When on others most they shine,

I've thought thee all thou wert before ; Then think they're turned on me
But now-alas! there's no deceiving.

Should those lips as now respond 'Tis all too plain, thou lov'st no more.

To sweet minstrelsy, Oh, thou as soon the dead couldst / When their accents seem most fond, waken,

Then think they're breathed for me. As lost affection's life restore, Make what hearts thou wilt thy own, Give peace to her that is forsaken,

If when all on thee Or bring back him who loves no Fix their charmed thoughts alone, more.

Thou think'st the while on me,

is

more.

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