Come hither, come hither by night or by day

Oh, Lady fair, where art thou roaming
Oh, remember the time in La Mancha's shades

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Oh, see those cherries, once so glowing

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Oh, yes! so well, so tenderly

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Oh, yes! when the bloom of young boyhood is over

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The brilliant black eye

There's a bower of roses by Bendemeer's stream

There's a bliss beyond all that the minstrel has told
The scene was more beautiful far to my eye

The sigh that lightens the languid oar

The song of war shall echo

The white sail caught the ev'ning ray

The young rose which I give thee

Though sacred the tie that our country entwineth

Thy song has taught my heart to feel

"Tis said, but whether true or not

To sigh yet feel no pain

"Twas a new feeling-something more

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IRISH MELODIES.

Go where glory waits thee.

Air-Maid of the Valley.

Go where glory waits thee;
But, while fame elates thee,
Oh! still remember me.
When the praise thou meetest
To thine ear is sweetest,

Oh! then remember me.
Other arms may press thee,
Dearer friends caress thee,
All the joys that bless thee
Sweeter far may be ;
But when friends are nearest,
And when joys are dearest,

Oh! then remember me.

When, at eve, thou rovest,
By the star thou lovest,

Oh! then remember me.

Think, when home returning,
Bright we've seen it burning,
Oh! then remember me.

Oft, as summer closes,
When thine eye reposes

On its lingering roses,

Once so lov'd by thee,

Think of her who wove them;
Her who made thee love them;
Oh! then remember me.

When, around thee, dying,
Autumn leaves are lying,

Oh! then remember me:
And, at night, when gazing
On the gay hearth blazing,

Oh! still remember me.
Then should music stealing
All the soul of feeling,
To thy heart appealing,

Draw one tear from thee;
Then let mem'ry bring thee
Strains I us'd to sing thee;

Oh! then remember me.

War Song.

Air-Molly Macalpin.

Remember the glories of Brien the brave,1

Though the days of the hero are o'er; Though, lost to Moronia, and cold in the grave,2 He returns to Kinkora no more! 3