NATIONAL AIRS.

A temple to Friendship.

Spanish Air.

87

"A temple to Friendship," said Laura, enchanted,
"I'll build in this garden, the thought is divine!"
Her temple was built-and she now only wanted
An image of Friendship to place on the shrine.
She flew to a sculptor, who set down before her
A Friendship, the fairest his heart could invent,
But so cold and so dull, that the youthful adorer
Saw plainly this was not the idol she meant.

"Oh! never," she cried, “could I think of enshrining "An image whose looks are so joyless and dim; "But you, little god, upon roses reclining,

"We'll make, if you please, sir, a Friendship of him."

So the bargain was struck; with the little god laden She joyfully flew to her shrine in the grove"Farewell,” said the sculptor, “you're not the first maiden

"Who came but for friendship, and took away love."

Flow on, thou shining river.

Portuguese Air.

Flow on, thou shining river,
But, ere thou reach the sea,
Seek Ella's bow'r, and give her
The wreaths I fling o'er thee.
And tell her thus, if she'll be mine,
The current of our lives shall be,
With joys along their course to shine,
Like those sweet flow'rs on thee.

But if, in wand'ring thither,

Thou find'st she mocks my pray'r, Then leave those wreaths to wither Upon the cold bank there.

And tell her thus, when youth is o'er, Her lone and loveless charms shall be Thrown by upon life's weedy shore, Like those sweet flow'rs from thee.

All that's bright must fade.

Indian Air.

All that's bright must fade,

The brightest still the fleetest, All that's bright must fade,

But to be lost when sweetest. Stars that shine and fall,

The flow'r that droops in springing, These, alas! are types of all

To which our hearts are clinging.

All that's bright must fade,

The brightest still the fleetest,

All that's sweet was made

But to be lost when sweetest!

Who would seek or prize

Delights that end in aching?

Who would trust to ties

That every hour are breaking?

Better far to be

In utter darkness lying,

Than to be blest with light and see
That light for ever flying.

All that's bright must fade,

The brightest still the fleetest,

All that's sweet was made

But to be lost when sweetest!

So warmly we met.

Hungarian Air,

So warmly we met, and so fondly we parted!
That which was the sweeter e'en I could not tell,
That first look of welcome her sunny eyes darted,

Or that tear of passion which bless'd our farewell,
To meet was a heav'n, and to part thus another,
Our joy and our sorrow seem'd rivals in bliss;
Oh! Cupid's two eyes are not liker each other
In smiles and in tears, than that moment to this.

The first was like day-break-new, sudden, delicious,
The dawn of a pleasure scarce kindled up yet-
The last was that farewell of daylight, more precious,
More glowing and deep, as 'tis nearer its set.
Our meeting, though happy, was ting'd by a sorrow,

To think that such happiness could not remain ; While our parting, though sad, gave a hope that to

morrow

Would bring back the blest hour of meeting again.

Those evening bells.

Air-The bells of St. Petersburgh.

Those ev'ning bells! those ev'ning bells!
How many a tale their music tells,
Of youth, and home, and that sweet time,
When last I heard their soothing chime!