Now shall Iran, belov'd of her hero! forget thee?— Though tyrants watch over her tears as they start, Close, close by the side of that hero she'll set thee, Embalm'd in the innermost shrine of her heart.

Farewell!—be it ours to embellish thy pillow

With every thing beauteous that grows in the deep; Each flower of the rock, and each gem of the billow, Shall sweeten thy bed, and illumine thy sleep.

Around thee shall glisten the loveliest amber
That ever the sorrowing sea-bird has wept ;102
With many a shell, in whose hollow-wreath'd chamber,
We Peris of ocean by moonlight have slept.

We'll dive where the gardens of coral lie darkling, And plant all the rosiest stems at thy head;

We'll seek where the sands of the Caspian are spark

And gather their gold to strew over thy bed.

Farewell-farewell-until Pity's sweet fountain
Is lost in the hearts of the fair and the brave,
They'll weep for the chieftain who died on that moun-
tain,

They'll weep for the maiden who sleeps in this wave.

Girl, dost thou know me?

Girl, dost thou know me?

Oh! what a wooer!
Slave! thou'rt below me!
This wig will undo her.
Oh, curse your grinning!
This lock so winning!
Ma'am, if you giggle thus,
And treat my wig ill thus,

I'll let you shortly know who am I.
A handsome lover this!

You sha'nt get over this;

This laugh will end me quite :
Pray heaven send it might!
Ha, ha, ha, hah! hah, hah!

How the fool makes me laugh!
Oh, I shall die!

But

you

shall weep

for this fun by-and-by.

I know where the wing'd.

I know where the wing'd visions dwell
That around the night-bed play;

I know each herb and flow'ret's bell,
Where they hide their wings by day.
Then hasten we, maid,

To twine our braid,

To-morrow the dreams and flowers will fade.

The image of love, that nightly flies

To visit the bashful maid,

Steals from the jasmine flower, that sighs
Its soul, like her, in the shade.

The hope, in dreams, of a happier hour
That alights on misery's brow,
Springs out of the silvery-almond flower,
That blooms on a leafless bough.104
Then hasten we, maid,

To twine our braid,

To-morrow the dreams and flowers will fade.

The visions that oft to worldly eyes
The glitter of mines unfold;
Inhabit the mountain herb, that dyes105
The tooth of the fawn like gold.
The phantom shapes-oh touch not them--
That appal the murderer's sight,

Lurk in the fleshly mandrake's stem,
That shrieks when torn at night!
Then hasten we, maid,

To twine our braid,

To-morrow the dreams and flowers will fade.

The dream of the injur'd, patient mind,
That smiles at the wrongs of men,

Is found in the bruis'd and wounded rind
Of the cinnamon, sweetest then!

Then hasten we, maid,

To twine our braid,

To morrow the dreams and flowers will fade.

Here is the lip that betrayed.

Here is the lip that betray'd,

Here is the blue eye that warm'd;
Lips for bewildering made!

Eyes for enamouring form'd!
While on her features I gaze,

And trace every love-moulded line,
Memory weeps o'er the days

When I fancied her faithfully mine.
Hope bids me dream of bright days
And fancy her faithfully mine.
Here's the glance that inspir'd-
Here is the blush that deceived:

Glances too wildly admir'd!

Blushes too fondly believ'd!
While on her features, etc.

Orator Puff.

Mr. Orator Puff had two tones in his voice,
The one squeaking thus, and the other down so;
In each sentence he utter'd he gave you your choice,
For one half was B alt. and the rest G below.

Oh! oh! orator Puff,

One voice for one orator's surely enough.

But he still talk'd away, spite of coughs and of frowns, So distracting all ears with his ups and his downs, That a wag once, on hearing the orator say

'My voice is for war,' ask'd him, which of them pray? Oh! oh! etc.

Reeling homewards, one evening, top-heavy with gin, And rehearsing his speech on the weight of the

crown,

He tripp'd near a saw-pit, and tumbled right in,

Sinking fund' the last words as his noddle came down,

Oh! oh! etc.

'Good lord!' he exclaimed, in his he-and-she tones,

C

Help me out, help me out, I have broken my bones!' 'Help you out!' said a Paddy who pass'd, what a

bother!

Why there's two of you there; can't you help one another?"

Oh! oh! &c.

Paradise and the Peri.

One morn a Peri at the gate
Of Eden stood, disconsolate;
And as she listen'd to the springs
Of life within, like music flowing,
And caught the light upon her wings
Through the half-open portal glowing,