Which then we hid not;
We saw it in each other's eye,

And wished, in every half-breathed sigh,
To speak, but did not.

She felt my lips' impassioned touch;

'Twas, the first time

dared so much,

And yet she chid not;

But whispered o'er my burning brow,
"Oh! do you doubt love you now?”
Sweet soul! I did not.

AT NIGHT.*

AT night, when all is still around,
How sweet to hear the distant sound

Of footstep, coming soft and light!
What pleasure in the anxious beat
With which the bosom flies to meet

That foot that comes so soft at night!

And then, at night, how sweet to say
"Tis late, my love!" and chide delay,
Though still the western clouds are bright;

Oh! happy, too, the silent press,

The eloquence of mute caress,

With those we love exchanged at night!

DEAR FANNY.

"SHE has beauty, but still you must keep your heart cool;
She has wit, but you mustn't be caught so :"

Thus Reason advises, but Reason's a fool,
And 'tis not the first time I have thought so;
Dear Fanny,

'Tis not the first time I have thought so.

"She is lovely; then love her, nor let the bliss fly;
'Tis the charm of youth's vanishing season:"
Thus Love has advised me, and who will deny
That Love reasons much better than Reason?
Dear Fanny,

Love reasons much better than Reason.

HERE'S THE BOWER.

HERE'S the bower she loved so much,
And the tree she planted :

Here's the harp she used to touch-
Oh how that touch enchanted!

These lines allude to a curious lamp, which has for its device a Cupid. with the words "At Night" written over him.

Roses now unheeded sigh;

Where's the hand to wreathe them?

Songs around neglected lie;

Where's the lip to breathe them?
Here's the bower, &c.

Spring may bloom, but she we loved
Ne'er shall feel its sweetness;
Time, that once so fleetly moved,
Now hath lost its fleetness.

Years were days when here she strayed,
Days were moments near her ;

Heaven ne'er formed a brighter maid,

Nor pity wept a dearer!

Here's the bower, &c.

I SAW THE MOON RISE CLEAR.

A FINLAND LOVE SONG.

I SAW the moon rise clear
O'er hills and vales of snow
Nor told my fleet rein-deer
The track I wished to go.
But quick he bounded forth;
For well my rein-deer knew
I've but one path on earth-
That path which leads to you.
The gloom that winter cast
How soon the heart forgets,
When summer brings, at last,
Her sun that never sets!
So dawned my love for you;
And chasing every pain,
Than summer sun more true,
"Twill never set again.

LOVE AND THE SUN-DIAL.

YOUNG Love found a Dial once in a dark shade, Where man ne'er had wandered nor sun-beam played "Why thus in darkness lie," whispered young Love; "Thou whose gay hours in sunshine should move?" 'I ne'er," said the Dial, "have seen the warm sun; So noonday and midnight to me, Love, are one." Then Love took the Dial away from the shade, And placed her where heaven's beam warmly played. There she reclined, beneath Love's gazing eye, While, all marked with sunshine, her hours flew by. "Oh how," said the Dial, " can any fair maid, That's born to be shone upon, rest in the shade?"

But night now comes on, and the sunbeam's o'er.
And Love stops to gaze on the Dial no more.
Then cold and neglected, while bleak rain and winds
Are storming around her, with sorrow she finds
That Love had but numbered 2 few sunny hours,
And left the remainder to darkness and showers!

LOVE AND TIME.

'TIS said-but whether true or not
Let bards declare who've seen 'em-
That Love and Time have only got
One pair of wings between 'em.
In courtship's first delicious hour,
The boy full well can spare 'em ;
So, loitering in his lady's bower,
He lets the grey-beard wear 'em.
Then is Time's hour of play;
Oh how he flies away!

But short the moments, short as bright,
When he the wings can borrow;
If Time to-day has had its flight,
Love takes his turn to-morrow.
Ah! Time and Love, your change is then
The saddest and most trying,

When one begins to limp again,
And t'other takes to flying.

Then is Love's hour to stray;
Oh how he flies away!

But there's a nymph, whose chains I feel,
And bless the silken fetter,

Who knows, the dear one, how to deal
With Love and Time much better.

So well she checks their wanderings,
So peacefully she pairs 'em,

That Love with her ne'er thinks of wings
And Time for ever wears 'em.

This is Time's holiday;
Oh how he flies away!

LOVE'S LIGHT SUMMER-CLOUD.
PAIN and sorrow shall vanish before us-
Youth may wither, but feeling will last :
All the shadow that e'er shall fall o'er us,
Love's light summer-cloud sweetly shall cast.
Oh if to love thee more

Each hour I number o'er-
If this a passion be

Worthy of thee,

Then be happy, for thus I adore thee.

Charms may wither, but feeling shall last :
All the shadow that e'er shall fall o'er thee
Love's light summer-cloud sweetly shall cast.

Rest, dear bosom, no sorrows shall pain thee,
Sighs of pleasure alone shalt thou steal;
Beam, bright eyelid, no weeping shall stain thee,
Tears of rapture alone shalt thou feel.
Oh, if there be a charm
In love, to banish harm-
If pleasure's truest spell
Be to love well,

Then be happy, for thus I adore thee.
Charms may wither, but feeling shall last:
All the shadow that e'er shall fall o'er thee

Love's light summer-cloud sweetly shall cast.

LOVE, WANDERING THROUGH THE GOLDEN MAZE.
LOVE, wandering through the golden maze
Of my beloved's hair,

Traced every lock with fond delays,

And, doting, lingered there.

And soon he found 'twere vain to fly;

His heart was close confined,

And every curlet was a tie

A chain by beauty twined.

MERRILY EVERY BOSOM BOUNDETH.

THE TYROLESE SONG OF LIBERTY.

MERRILY every bosom boundeth,
Merrily oh!

Where the song of freedom soundeth,
Merrily oh!

There the warrior's arms

Shed more splendour;

There the maiden's charms

Shine more tender;

Every joy the land surroundeth,
Merrily oh! merrily oh!

Wearily every bosom pineth,
Wearily oh!

Where the bond of slavery twineth
Wearily oh!

There the warrior's dart

Hath no fleetness;

There the maiden's heart
Hath no sweetness-
Every flower of life declineth,
Wearily oh! wearily oh!

Cheerily then from hill and valley,
Cheerily oh!

Like your native fountains sally,
Cheerily oh!

If a glorious death,
Won by bravery,
Sweeter be than breath,

Sighed in slavery,

Round the flag of freedom rally,
Cheerily oh! cheerily oh!

REMEMBER THE TIME.

THE CASTILIAN MAID.

OH remember the time, in La Mancha's shades,
When our moments so blissfully flew ;
When you called me the flower of Castilian maids,
And I blushed to be called so by you;

When I taught you to warble the gay seguadille,
And to dance to the light castanet;

Oh never, dear youth, let you roam where you will,
The delight of those moments forget.

They tell me, you lovers from Erin's green isle
Every hour a new passion can feel,

And that soon, in the light of some lovelier smile,
You'll forget the poor maid of Castile.

But they know not how brave in the battle you are,
Or they never could think you would rove;
For 'tis always the spirit most gallant in war
That is fondest and truest in love.

OH, SOON RETURN.

THE white sail caught the evening ray,
The wave beneath us seemed to burn,
When all my weeping love could say
Was "Oh soon return!"

Through many a clime our ship was driven,
O'er many a billow rudely thrown;
Now chilled beneath a northern heaven,
Now sunned by summer's zone :

Yet still, where'er our course we lay,
When evening bid the west wave burn,

I thought I heard her faintly say,
"Oh soon return!"