Much Cloe 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 Cloe'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, &c.

Meanwhile, young Sue, whose cage was wrought

Of bars too strong to sever,
One Love with golden pinions caught,
And caged him there for ever;
Instructing, thereby, all coquettes,
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,

And not, like Cloe, sigh!

WHEN THROUGH THE PIAZETTA.

(VENETIAN AIR.)

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.

(SICILIAN AIR.)

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.
Go, then, and dream, &c.

That moon, which hung o'er your parting, so splendid,
Often will shine again, bright as she then did
But never more will the beam she saw burn

In those happy eyes, at your meeting, return.
Go, then, and dream, &c.

TAKE HENCE THE BOWL.

(NEAPOLITAN Air.)

TAKE hence the bowl;- though beaming
Brightly as bowl e'er shone,

Oh, it but sets me dreaming
Of happy days now gone.
There, in its clear reflection,
As in a wizard's glass,
Lost hopes and dead affection,
Like shades, before me pass.

FAREWELL, Theresa! yon cloud that over

Heaven's pale night-star gath'ring we see,

Will scarce from that pure orb have pass'd, ere thy lover Swift o'er the wide 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, thou break'st the spell;

'Tis over
- the moon, too, her bondage is breaking –
Past are the dark clouds; Theresa, farewell!

HOW OFT, WHEN WATCHING STARS.

(SAVOYARD AIR.)

OFT, when the watching stars grow pale,

And round me sleeps the moonlight scene,

To hear a flute through yonder vale

I from my casement lean.

"Come, come, my love!" each note then seems to say, "Oh, come, my love! the night wears fast away!" Never to mortal ear

Could words, though warm they be,
Speak Passion's language half so clear
As do those notes to me!

Then quick my own light lute I seek,

And strike the chords with loudest swell; And, though they nought to others speak, He knows their language well.

F

"I come, my love!" each note then seems to say,

"I come, my love! - thine, thine, till break of day." Oh, weak the power of words,

The hues of painting dim,

Compar'd to what those simple chords

Then say and paint to him!

WHEN THE FIRST SUMMER BEE.

(GERMAN AIR.)

WHEN the first summer bee

O'er the young rose shall hover,

Then, like that gay rover,

I'll come to thee.

He to flowers, I to lips, full of sweets to the brimWhat a meeting, what a meeting for me and for him! When the first summer bee, &c.

Then, to every bright tree

In the garden he'll wander;

While I, oh much fonder,

Will stay with thee.

In search of new sweetness through thousands he'll run. While I find the sweetness of thousands in one.

Then, to every bright tree, &c.