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Oh! then, how sweet to say

Into the lov'd one's ear,

Thoughts reserv'd through many a day,
To be thus whisper'd there.

When the dance and feast are done
Arm in arm as home we stray,
How sweet to see the dawning sun
O'er her cheek's warm blushes play!

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,
In which our love lies cold and dead,

I count each flatt'ring hope he gave
Of joys now lost, and charms now fled.

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,
To whom the night stars guide us,
Stolen walks through moonlight shades,
With those we love beside us;
Hearts beating, at meeting,
Tears starting, at parting;
Oh! sweet youth, how soon it fades,
Sweet joys of youth, how fleeting.

Love and Hope.

Swiss Air.

At morn, beside yon summer sea,
Young Hope and Love reclin'd;

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
Along the waters lay;

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
Her night-lamp o'er the sea!

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
Night threw her darkling chain;
The sunny sails were seen no more,
Hope's morning dreams of bliss were o'er-

Love never came again!-Love never came again!

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!

Those joyous hours are past away;
And many a heart that then was gay,
Within the tomb now darkly dwells,
And hears no more those ev'ning bells!

And so 'twill be, when I am gone;
That tuneful peal will still ring on,
While other bards shall walk these dells,
And sing your praise, sweet ev'ning bells!

Should those fond hopes.

Portuguese Air.

Should those fond hopes e'er forsake thee,8*
Which now so sweetly thy heart employ;
Should the cold world come to wake thee
From all thy visions of youth and joy;

Should the gay friends for whom thou wouldst banish
Him who once thought thy young heart his own,
All, like spring birds, falsely vanish,

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,
Who left us while summer shone round;

But, when chill'd by bleak December,
Upon our threshold a welcome still found.

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