Come, oh! come, then, let us haste,
All the bliss of love to taste;
Let us love both night and day,
Let us love our lives away!

When 'midst the gay 1 meet.

When 'midst the gay I meet

That blessed smile of thine,

Though still on me it turns most sweet,
I scarce can call it mine:
But when to me alone

Your sweet tears you show,
Oh! then I feel those tears,

And claim them as they flow. Then still with bright looks bless The gay, the cold, the free; Give smiles to those who love you less, But keep your tears for me.

The snow on Jura's steep

Can smile with many a beam,
Yet still in chains of coldness sleep,
How bright soe'er it seem.
But when some deep-felt r
Whose touch is fire, a

Oh! then the smile is

And, melting, turns to te

Then still with bright looks bless

The gay, the cold, the free,

Give smiles to those who love thee less,
But keep thy tears for me.

When twilight dews.

When twilight dews are falling soft
Upon the rosy sea, love,

I watch the star whose beam so oft
Has lighted me to thee, love!
And thou too, on that orb so clear,
Ah! dost thou gaze at even,
And think, though lost for ever here,
Thou❜lt yet be mine in heaven!

There's not a garden walk I tread,
There's not a flower I see, love!
But brings to mind some hope that's fled,

Some joy I've lost with thee, love!
And still I wish that hour was near,
When friends and foes forgiven,

The pains, the ills we've wept through here, May turn to smiles in heaven!

Will you come to the bower?

Will you come to the bow'r I have shaded for you?
Our bed shall be roses all spangled with dew.

Will you, will you, will you, will you
Come to the bow'r?

There, under the bow'r, on roses you'll lie,

With a blush on your cheek, but a smile in your eye. Will you, will you, will you,

Smile, my belov'd?

will you

But the roses we press shall not rival your lip,
Nor the dew be so sweet as the kisses we'll sip.
Will you, will you, will you, will you
Kiss me, my love?

And oh! for the joys that are sweeter than dew
From languishing roses, or kisses from you.

Will you, will you, will you, will you,
Won't you, my love?

Young Jessica.

Young Jessica sat all the day

In love dreams languishingly pining,
Her needle bright neglected lay,

Like truant genius, idly shining.

Jessy, 'tis in idle hearts

That love and mischief are most nimble; The safest shield against the darts

Of Cupid, is Minerva's thimble.

A child, who with a magnet play'd,
And knew its winning ways so wily,
The magnet near the needle laid,

And laughing said, "We'll steal it slily."

The needle, having nought to do,

Was pleas'd to let the magnet wheedle, Till closer still the tempter drew, And off, at length, eloped the needle.

Now, had this needle turn'd its eye
To some gay Ridicule's construction,
It ne'er had stray'd from duty's tie,
Nor felt a magnet's sly seduction.

Girls, would you keep tranquil hearts,
Your snowy fingers must be nimble;
The safest shield against the darts
Of Cupid, is Minerva's thimble.

A lottery, a lottery.

A lottery, a lottery,

In Cupid's court there us'd to be,
Two roguish eyes

The highest prize,

In Cupid's scheming lottery;

And kisses too,

As good as new,

Which were not very hard to win,

For he, who won

The eyes of fun,

Was sure to have the kisses in.

Chorus. A lottery, etc.

This lottery, this lottery

In Cupid's court went merrily,
And Cupid play'd

A Jewish trade

In this his scheming lottery;

For hearts, I'm told,

In shares he sold,

To many a fond, believing drone,

And cut the hearts

In sixteen parts

So well, each thought the whole his own!