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CONTENTS TO VOLUME I.

PAUR

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book......

The Legacy..

How oft has the Bedshee cried

We may roam through this world

Eveleen's Bower.......

Let Erin remember the days of old.

The Song of Fionnuala....

Come, send round the wine

Sublime was the warning

Believe me, if all those endearing young charms.

Erin, oh Erin.....

Drink to her...

Oh, blame not the Bard.

While gazing on the moon's light.

III Omens

Before the Battle

After the Battle

Tis sweet to think..

The Irish Peasant to his Mistress

On Music..

It is not the tear at this moment shed.

The Origin of the larp.......

Lore's young Dream..

The Prince's Day

Weep on, weep on....

Lesbia hath a beaming eye.

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NATIONAL AIRS.

Preface..

73
A Temple to Friendship. (Spanish Air)..

73
Flow on, thou shining river. (Portuguese Air)..

73
All that's bright must fade. (Indian Air)..

74
Those evening bells. (Arr.—The Bells of St. Petersburgh) 74
So warmly we met. (Hungarian Air)..

74
Should those fond hopes. (Portuguese Air)

74
Reason, Folly, and Beanty. (Italian Air)

75
Fare thee well, thou lovely one! (Sicilian Air)

75
Dost thou remember. (Portuguese Air)

75
Oh, come to me when daylight sets. (Venetian Air.).....
Oft, in the stilly night. (Scotch Air)

76
Hark! the vesper hymn is stealing. (Russian Air)

76
Love and Hope. (Swiss Air)

76
There comes a time. (German Air)
My harp has one unchanging theme. (Swedish Air). 77
Oh, no-not even when first we loved. (Cashmerian Air) 77
Peace be around thee. (Scotch Air)....

77
Common Senso and Genius. (French Air).

78
Then fare thee well. (Old English Air)..

78
Gayly sounds the castanet. (Maltese Air)..

78
Love a hunter-boy. (Languedocian Air)

79
Come, chase that starting tear away. (French Air)

79
Joys of Youth, how fleeting. (Portuguese Air)..

79
Hear me but once. (French Air)....

79
When Love was a child. (Swedish Air)...

79
Say, what shall be our sport to-day? (Sicilian Air)

80
Bright be thy dreams. (Welsh Air)

80
Go, then-'tis vain. (Sicilian Air).

80
The Crystal Hunters. (Swiss Air)

80
Row gently here. (Venetian Air)

81

Oh, day of youth. (French Air).....

81

SACRED SONGS.

Thou art, O God. (Air.- Unknown)..

The bird, let loose. (Air. ethoven)

91

Fallen is thy throne. (Air.-Martini)..

91

Who is the maid? St. Jerome's love. (Air.-Beethoven) 92

This world is all a fleeting show. (Air.-Stevenson)

92

Oh Thou who dry'st the mourner's tear. (Air.-Haydn).. 92

Weep not for those. (Air.-Avison)

93

The turf shall be my fragrant shrine. (Air.-Stevenson).. 93

Sound the loud timbrel. Miriam's Song. (Air.--Avison) 93

Go, let me weep. (Air.-Stevenson)

94

Come not, O Lord. (Air.-Ilaydn)

94

Were not the sinful Mary's tears. (Air.-Stevenson). 94

As down in the sunless retreats. (Air.--Haydn)

94

But who shall see. (Air.-Stevenson)

94

Almighty God. Chorus of priests. (Air.-Mozart).... 95

Oh fair! oh purest! St. Augustine to his sister. (Air.-

Moore)..

95

Angel of Charity. (Air.—Handel).

95

Behold the sun. (Air.—Lord Mornington)..

96

Lord, who shall bear that day. (Air.--Dr. Boyce).

96

Oh, teach me to love thee. (Air.-Haydn)....

96

Weep, children of Israel. (Air.-Stevenson).

96

Like morning, when her early breeze. (Air.---Beethoven) 96

Come, ye disconsolate. (Air.-German)...

97

Awake, arise, thy Light is come. (Air.--Stevenson) 97

There is a bleak desert. (dir.--Crescentini)

97

Since first Thy word. (Air.-Nicholas Freeman).

98

Hark! 'tis the breeze. (Air.--Rousseau)

98

Where is your dwelling, yo sainted? (Air.-Hasse)...... 98

How lightly mounts the muse's wing. (Air.-Anonymous) 99

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I. I saw the smiling bard of pleasure..

II. Give me the harp of epic song.

III. Listen to the Muse's lyre

IV. Vulcan! hear your glorious task.

V. Sculptor, wouldst thou glad my soul.

VI. As late I sought the spangled bowers

VII. The women tell me every day

VIII. I care not for the idle state

IX. I pray thee, by the gods above.

X. How am I to punish thee.....

XI. - Tell me, gentle youth, I pray thee".

XII. They tell how Atys, wild with love..

XIII. I will, I will, the conflict's past..

XIV. Count me, on the summer trees..

XV. Tell me, why, my sweetest dove.

XVI. Thou, whose soft and rosy hues.

XVII. And now, with all thy pencil's truth

XVIII. Now the star of day is high..

XIX. Here recline you, gentle maid..

XX. One day the Muses twined the hands.

XXI. Observe when mother earth is dry

XXI. The Phrygian rock, that brares the storm.

XXIII. I often wish this languid lyre

XXIV. To all that breathe the air of heaven

XXV. Once in each revolving year

XXVI. Thy harp may sing of Troy's alarm

XXVII. We read the flying courser's name.

XXVIII. As, by his Lemnian forge's flame

XXIX. Yes-loving is a painful thrill

XXX. 'Twas in a mocking dream of night

XXXI. Arm'd with hyacinthino rod

XXXII. Strew me a fragrant bed of leaves...

XXXIII. 'Twas noon of night, when round the pule

XXXIV. Oh thou, of all creation blest....

XXXV. Cupid once upon a bed

XXXVI, Jf hourded gold possess'd the power...

XXXVII. 'Twas night, and many a circling bowl

XXXVIII. Let us drain the nectar's bowl........

XXXIX. How I love the festive boy

XL. I know that Heaven hath sent me here.

XLI. When Spring adorns the dewy scene...

XLII. Yes, be the glorious revel mine...

XLIII. While our rosy fillets shed...

XLIV. Buds of roses, virgin flowers..

XLV. Within this goblet, rich and deep ..

XLVI. Behold the young, the rosy Spring..

XLVII. 'Tis true, my fading years decline..

XLVIII. When my thirsty soul I steep

XLIX. When Bacchus, Jove's immortal boy.

L. When wine I quaff, before my eyes.

LI. Fly not thus, my brow of snow

LII. Away, away, ye men of rules

LIII. When I behold the festive train

LIV. Methinks, the pictured bull we see.

LV. While we invoke the wreathed spring.

LVI. He, who instructs the youthful crew..

LVII. Whose was the artist-hand that spread.

LVIII. When Gold, as fleet as zephyr's pinion

LIX. Ripen’d by the solar beam..

LX, Awake to life, my sleeping shell

LXI, Youth's endearing charms are fled

LXII. Fill me, boy, as deep a draught

LXIII. To Love, the soft and blooming child

LXIV. Haste thee, nymph, whose well-aim'd spear

LXV. Like some wanton filly sporting..

LXVI. To thee, the Queen of nymphs divine

LXVII. Rich in bliss, I proudly scorn

LXVIII. Now Neptune's mouth our sky deforms

LXIX. They wove the lotus band to deck

LXX. A broken cake with honey sweet

LXXI. With twenty chords my lyre is bung

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