Love is a hunter boy.

Languedocian Air.

Love is a hunter boy,

Who makes young hearts his prey;
And in his nets of joy
Ensnares them night and day.

In vain conceal'd they lie,
Love tracks them every where!
In vain aloft they fly,
Love shoots them flying there.

But 'tis his joy most sweet,

At early dawn to trace

The print of Beauty's feet, And give the trembler chase.

And most he loves through snow

To track those footsteps fair,
For then the boy doth know
None track'd before him there.

My harp has one unchanging theme.

Swedish Air.

My harp has one unchanging theme,
One strain, that still comes o'er
Its languid chord, as 'twere a dream
Of joy that's now no more.

In vain I try with livelier air

To wake the breathing string;

That voice of other times is there,

And saddens all I sing.

Breathe on, breathe on, thou languid strain,

Henceforth be all my own;

Though thou art oft so full of pain,
Few hearts can bear thy tone.

Yet oft thou'rt sweet, as if the sigh,
The breath that pleasure's wings
Gave out, when last they wanton'd by,
Were still upon thy strings.

Oh! no-not e'en when first we lov'd.

Cashmerian Air.

Oh! no-not e'en when first we lov'd,
Wert thou as dear as now thou art;
Thy beauty then my senses mov'd,
But now thy virtues bind my heart.

What was but passion's sigh before,

Has since been turn'd to reason's vow; And though I then might love thee more, Trust me, I love thee better-better now!

Although my heart, in earlier youth,
Might kindle with more wild desire,
Believe me it has gain'd in truth,

Much more than it has lost in fire.

The flame now warms my inmost core,
That then but sparkled o'er my brow;
And though I seem'd to love thee more,

Yet, oh! I love thee better-better now.

Peace be around thee.

Seotch Air,

Peace be around thee; wherever thou rov'st
May life be, for thee, one summer's day;
And all that thou wishest, and all that thou lov'st,
Come smiling around thy sunny way!

If sorrow e'er this calm should break,
May e'en thy tears pass off so lightly,
Like spring showers, they'll only make
The smiles that follow shine more brightly.

May Time, who sheds his blight o'er all,
And daily dooms some joy to death,
O'er thee let years so gently fall,

They shall not crush one flower beneath!

As half in shade, and half in sun,

This world along its path advances, May that side the sun's upon,

Be all that e'er shall meet thy glances.

Then, fare thee well.

English Air.

Then, fare thee well, my own dear love;

This world has now for us

No greater grief, no pain above

The pain of parting thus, dear love!
The pain of parting thus!

Had we but known, since first we met, Some few short hours of bliss,

We might, in numb'ring them, forget The deep, deep pain of this, dear love! The deep, deep pain of this.

But no, alas, we've never seen

One glimpse of pleasure's ray,

But still there came some cloud between,
And chas'd it all away, dear love!
And chas'd it all away!

Yet e'en could those sad moments last,
Far dearer to my heart

Were hours of grief, together past,

Than years of mirth apart, dear love!
Than years of mirth apart.

Farewell-our hope was born in fears,
And nurs'd mid vain regrets!

Like winter suns, it rose in tears,

Like them, in tears it sets, dear love!

Like them in tears it sets: