Love, who saw the whole proceeding,

Would have laugh'd, but for geod-breeding;
While old Hymen, who was us'd to

Cries like that these dames gave loose to,

"Take back our Love-knots!

"Take back our Love-knots !"

Coolly said, "There's no returning "Ware's on Hymen's hands-Good morning!"

Nets and cages.

Come, listen to my story,

While your needle's task you ply; At what I sing, some maids will smile, While some, perhaps, may sigh.

Though Love's the theme, and Wisdom
Blames such florid songs as ours,

Yet Truth, sometimes, like Eastern dames,
Can speak her thoughts by flowers.

Then listen, maids, come listen,
While your needle's task you ply;
At what I sing, there's some may smile,
While some, perhaps, will sigh.

Young Chloe, bent on catching loves,
Such nets had learn'd to frame,
That none in all our vales and groves
E'er caught so much small game.

While gentle Sue, less given to roam,
When Chloe's nets were taking
These flights of birds, sat still at home,
One small, neat Love-cage making.

Come listen, maids, come listen,

While your needle's task you ply; At what I sing, there's some may smile, While some, perhaps, will sigh.

Much Chloe laugh'd at Susan's task;
But mark how things went on--
These light-caught loves, ere you could ask
Their name and age-were gone!

So weak poor Chloe's nets were wove,
That though she charm'd into them
New game each hour, the youngest love
Was able to break through them.

Come listen, maids, come listen,
While your needle's task you ply ;
At what I sing, there's some may smile,
While some, perhaps, will sigh.

Meanwhile young Sue, whose cage was wrought
Of bars too strong to sever,
One love with golden pinions caught,

And cag'd him there for ever:

Instructing thereby all coquets,
Whate'er their looks or ages,
That though 'tis pleasant weaving nets,
'Tis wiser to make cages.

Thus, maidens, thus do I beguile
The task your fingers ply:

May all who hear, like Susan smile--
Ah! not like Chloe-sigh.

When through the piazetta.

When through the piazetta

Night breathes her cool air,

Then, dearest Ninetta,

I'll come to thee there.

Beneath thy mask shrouded
I'll know thee afar,

As love knows, though clouded,
His own evening star.

In garb then resembling
Some gay gondolier,

I'll whisper thee, trembling,
"Our bark, love, is near !”

Now, now, while there hover

Those clouds o'er the moon,

"Twill waft thee safe over Yon silent lagoon.

Go now, and dream.

Go now, and dream o'er that joy in thy slumber, Moments so sweet again ne'er shalt thou number; Of pain's bitter draught the flavour ne'er flies, While pleasure's scarce touches the lip ere it dies!

That moon, which hung o'er your parting so splendid,
Often will shine again, bright as she then did;
But, ah! never more will the beam she saw burn
In those happy eyes at your meeting, return!

Take hence the bowl.

Take hence the bowl! though beaming
Brightly as bowl e'er shone;

Oh! it but sets me dreaming
Of days, of nights now gone!

There, in its clear reflection,
As in a wizard's glass,
Lost hopes and dead affection
Like shades before me pass.

Each cup I drain, brings hither
Some friend who once sat by--
Bright lips, too bright to wither,

Warm hearts, too warm to die:

Till, as the dream comes o'er me
Of those long vanish'd years,
Then-then the cup before me
Seems turning all to tears!

Farewell, Theresa.

Farewell, Theresa, that cloud which over

Yon moon, this moment, we gath❜ring see,

Shall scarce from her pure orb have pass'd, ere thy lover

Swift o'er the wild wave shall wander from thee.

Long like that dim cloud I've hung around thee,

Dark'ning thy prospects, sadd'ning thy brow; With gay heart, Theresa, and bright cheek I found thee,

Oh, think how chang'd, love, how chang'd art thou

now.

But here I free thee; like one awaking

From fearful slumber, this dream thou❜lt tell. "Tis over

-the bright moon her spell is breaking, Past are the dark clouds, Theresa, oh farewell!