Oh! then, how sweet to say Into the lov'd one's ear, Thoughts reserv'd through many a day, When the dance and feast are done Then, then the farewell kiss, And words whose parting tone Lingers still in dreams of bliss, That haunt young hearts alone. Hear me but once. French Air. Hear me but once, while o'er the grave, I count each flatt'ring hope he gave Who could have thought the smile he wore, When first we met, would fade away! Or that a chill would e'er come o'er Those eyes so bright through many a day. Joys of youth, how fleeting. French Air. Whisp'ring, heard by wakeful maids, Love and Hope. Swiss Air. At morn, beside yon summer sea, But scarce had noon-tide come, when he Into his bark leap'd smilingly, [hind! And left poor Hope behind-and left poor Hope be "I go," said Love, "to sail awhile, Across this sunny main," And then so sweet his parting smile, That Hope, who never dream'd of guile, Believ'd he'd come again-believ'd he come again. She linger'd there, till evening's beam And o'er the sands, in thoughtful dream, Oft trac'd his name, which still the stream As often wash'd away-as often wash'd away. At length a sail appears in sight, And tow'rd the maiden moves; 'Tis Wealth that comes, and gay and bright, His golden bark reflects the light : But, ah, it is not Love's-it is not Love's! Another sail-'twas Friendship show'd And calm the light that lamp bestow'd, But Love had lights that warmer glow'd, And where, alas! was he?-and where, alas! was he? Now fast around the sea and shore Love never came again!-Love never came again! So warmly we met. Hungarian Air. So warmly we met, and so fondly we parted! 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, 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! Those joyous hours are past away; And so 'twill be, when I am gone; Should those fond hopes. Portuguese Air. Should those fond hopes e'er forsake thee,8* Should the gay friends for whom thou wouldst banish And leave thy winter unheeded and lone : f Oh! 'tis then he thou hast slighted Would come to cheer thee, when all seem'd o'er ; Then the truant, lost and blighted, Would to his bosom be taken once more. Like that dear bird we both can remember, But, when chill'd by bleak December, |