SHOULD THOSE FOND HOPES. SHOULD those fond hopes e'er forsake thee, From all thy visions of youth and joy; Should the gay friends, for whom thou wouldst banish And leave thy winter unheeded and lone ; Oh! 'tis then that he thou hast slighted Would come to cheer thee, when all seemed o'er; Then the truant, lost and blighted, Would to his bosom be taken once more. FARE THEE WELL, THOU LOVELY ONE! FARE thee well, thou lovely one! Thy words, whate'er their flattering spell, Then, fare thee well, thou lovely one! Yet those eyes look constant still, True as stars they keep their light; -T is one of the many instances among my lyrical poemsthe above. it must be owned. is an extreme case-where re has been necessarily sacrificed to the structure of the 'Tis only on thy changeful heart The blame of falsehood ies; Love lives in every other part, But there, alas! he dies. Then, fare thee well, thou lovely one! Lovely still, but dear no more; Once his soul of truth is gone, Love's sweet life is o'er. DOST THOU REMEMBER. Dost thou remember that place so lonely, Where first I told thee all my secret sighs? When, as the moonbeam, that trembled o'er thee, Illum'd thy blushes, I knelt before thee, And read my hope's sweet triumph in those eyes? Then, then, while closely heart was drawn to heart, Love bound us-never, never more to part! And when I called thee by names the dearest OH, COME TO ME WHEN DAYLIGHT SETS When Mirth's awake, and Love begins, With sound of lutes and mandolins, To steal young hearts away. Oh, then's the hour for those who love, When all's so calm below, above, So sweet, that all with ears and souls So, come to me when daylight sets, OFT, IN THE STILLY NIGHT. OFT, in the stilly night, Ere slumber's chain has bound me, The smiles, the tears, Now dimmed and gone, The cheerful hearts now broken! Thus, in the stilly night, Ere Slumber's chain hath bound me, Sad Memory brings the light Of other days around me. When I remember all The friends, so linked together, I've seen around me fall, Like leaves in wintry weather; The thought in this verse is borrowed from the original Ports guese words. + Barcarolles, sorte de chansons en langue Venitienne, que chan tent les gondoliers a Venise.-Rousseau. Dictionaire de Murique. I feel like one, Who treads alone Some banquet-hall deserted, Whose garlands dead, And all but he departed! Thus, in the stilly night, Ere Slumber's chain has bound me, Sad Memory brings the light Of other days around me. HARK! THE VESPER HYMN IS STEALING. HARK! the vesper hymn is stealing Farther, now, now farther stealing, Now, like moonlight waves retreating Hush! again, like waves, retreating THERE COMES A TIME. THERE comes a time, a dreary time, To him whose heart hath flown O'er all the fields of youth's sweet prime, When sets the sun on Afric's shore, That instant all is night; When Love withdraws his light; LOVE AND HOPE. Ar morn, beside yon summer sea, Young Hope and Love reclined; But scarce had noon-tide come, when he And left poor Hope behind. "I go," said Love, "to sail awhile And then so sweet his parting smile, She lingered there till evening's beam Along the waters lay; And o'er the sands, in thoughtful dream, Oft traced his name, which still the stream, As often washed away. At length a sail appears in sight, And toward the maiden moves! "Tis Wealth that comes, and gay and bright, His golden bark reflects the light, But ah! it is not Love's. Another sail-'twas Friendship showed Her night-lamp o'er the sea; Now fast around the sea and shore Night threw her darkling chain; The sunny sails were seen no more, MY HARP HAS ONE UNCHANGING THEME. My harp has one unchanging theme, In vain I try, with livelier air, Breath on, breathe on, thou languid strain, Though thou art oft so full of pain Yet oft thou'rt sweet, as if the sigh, The breath that Pleasure's wings Gave out, when last they wantoned by, OH, NO-NOT EVEN WHEN FIRST WE LOVED. Он, no-not even when first we loved, Has since been turned to Reason's vow: Although my heart in earlier youth Might kindle with more wild desire. Much more than it has lost in fire. WHEN LOVE WAS A CHILD. O'erhead, from the trees, hung a garland fair, But Love didn't know—and, at his weak years, Te caught at the wreath-but with too much haste, A fell in those waters of briny taste, And the flowers were all wet through. This garland he now wears night and day; With Pleasure's own light, each leaf they say, HEAR ME BUT ONCE. HEAR me but once, while o'er the grave, I count each flattering hope he gave COMMON SENSE AND GENIUS. WHILE I touch the string, Wreath my brows with laurel, For the tale I sing Has, for once, a moral. Common Sense, one night, Though not used to gambols, Went out by moonlight, With Genius, on his rambles, While I touch the string, &c. Common Sense went on, Many wise things saying; While the light that shone Soon set Genius straying. One his eye ne'er raised From the path before him; On each night-cloud o'er him. So they came, at last, To a shady river; Common Sense soon passed, Safe, as he doth ever; While the boy, whose look Was in heaven that minute, But tumbled headlong in it! How the Wise One smiled, On the bank, 'tis said, Died of that cold river! While I touch the string, &c. GAYLY SOUNDS THE CASTANET. GAYLY sounds the castanet, Beating time to bounding feet, When, after daylight's golden set, Maids and youths by moonlight meet. Oh, then, how sweet to move Then, the joyous banquet spread On the cool and fragrant ground, With heaven's bright sparklers overhead, And still brighter sparkling round. Oh, then, how sweet to say Into some loved one's ear, Thoughts reserved through many a day To be thus whispered here. PEACE BE AROUND THEE. PEACE be around thee, wherever thou rovest; They shall not crush one flower beneath. This world along its path advances, May that side the sun's upon Be all that e'er shall meet thy glances! LOVE IS A HUNTER-BOY. LOVE is a hunter-boy, Who makes young hearts his prey; And, in his nets of joy, Ensnares them night and day. Love shoots them flying there. He tracks her footsteps fair, None went before him there. OH, DAYS OF YOUTH. Он, days of youth and joy, long clouded, One joy that equals youth's sweet pain. Cold winds of Time blow round my brow; Sunshine of youth! that once fell o'er me, Where is your warinth, your glory now? 'Tis not that then no pain could sting mu; 'Tis not that now no joys remain; Oh, 'tis that life no more can bring me One joy so sweet as that worst pain. WHEN FIRST THAT SMILE. WHEN first that smile, like sunshine, blessed my sight, Or aught that's known for grace and lightness. PEACE TO THE SLUMBERERS! PEACE to the slumb❜rers! They lie on the battle-plain, With no shroud to cover them; The dew and the summer rain Are all that weep over them. Peace to the slumb'rers! Vain was their bravery !— The fallen oak lies where it lay Across the wintry river; But brave hearts, once swept away, Are gone, alas! for ever. Vain was their bravery! Wo to the conqu❜ror! Our limbs shall lie as cold as theirs Of whom his sword bereft us, Ere we forget the deep arrears Of vengeance they have left us! COME, CHASE THAT STARTING TEAR AWAY. COME, chase that starting tear away, Ere mine to meet it springs; To-nigh, at least, to-night be gay, Like sun-set gleams, that linger late Are hours like these we snatch from Fate- Then, chase that starting tear, &c. Oh, think that one bright hour is given, Let's live it out-then sink in night, Come, chase that starting tear, &c, WHO'LL BUY MY LOVE-KNOTS? "Who'll buy my love-knots ? Who'll buy my love-knots ?" All at that sweet cry assembled; Some laughed, some blushed, and some trembled. "Here are knots," said Hymen, taking Some loose flowers, "of Love's own making; "Come, buy my love-knots! Some are labelled Knots to tie men- Who'd buy such love-knots? Even this tie, with Love's name round it- Love, who saw the whole proceeding, Coolly said, "There's no returning HOW OFT, WHEN WATCHING STARS. OFT, when the watching stars grow pale, "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, Then quick my own light lute I seek, And strike the chords with loudest swell; And, though they naught to others speak, He knows their language well. "I come, my love!" each note then seems to say, The hues of painting dim, WHEN THOU SHALT WANDER. Aside, when passed the summer's beat: SAI, WHAT SHALL BE OUR SPORT TO-DAY? SAY, what shall be our sport to-day? There's nothing on earth, in sea, or air, Too bright, too high, too wild, too gay, For spirits like mine to dare! 'Tis like the returning bloom Of those days, alas, gone by, When I loved, each hour-I scarce knew whom- And flew, oh, flew so wild a height, I've enough of light and wing still left, FAREWELL, THERESA! FAREW, LL, Theresa! yon cloud that over Heaven's pale night-star gathering we see, Will scarce from that pure orb have passed, ere thy lover Long, like that din cloud, I've hung around thee, With gay heart, Theresa, and bright cheek I found thee; But here I free thee; like one awaking Fra fearful slumber, thou breakst the spell; 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 er thoughts by flowers. Then listen, maids, come listen, while At what I sing there's some may smile, Young Cloe, bent on catching Loves, But gentle Sue, less given to roam, Such lots of Loves, sat still at home, Much Cloe laughed at Susan's task; Come, listen, maids, &c. Meanwhile, young Sue, whose cage was wrought One Love with golden pinions caught, That, though 'tis pleasant weaving nets, Thus, maidens, thus do I beguile Each instant echo to our song; And, when we meet with store of gems, We grudge not kings their diadems. O'er mountains bright With snow and light, We Crystal-Hunters speed along⚫ While grots and caves, And icy waves, Each instant echo to our song. Not half so oft the lover dreams Of sparkles from his lady's eyes, As we of those refreshing gleams That tell where deep the crystal lies; Though, next to crystal, we too grant, That ladies' eyes may most enchant. O'er mountains bright, &c. Sometimes, when on the Alpine rose The golden sunset leaves its ray, So like a gem the floweret glows, We thither bend our headlong way; And, though we find no treasure there, We bless the rose that shines so fair, O'er mountains bright With snow and light, We Crystal-Hunters speed along; While rocks and caves, And icy waves, Each instant echo to our song, |