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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 - few sunny hours,
And left the remainder to darkness and showers!

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'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 brigiit,

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!

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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

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,

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 ;

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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!



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.

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 retnrn!"

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If ever yet my bosom found

Its thoughts one moment turned sum thee,
'Twas when the combat raged around,

And brave men looked to me.
But though 'mid battle's wild alarm

Love's gentle power might not appear,
He gave to glory's brow the charm

Which made even danger dear.
And then, when victory's calm came o'er

The hearts where rage had ceased to burn,
I heard that farewell voice once more,

"Oh soon return !"

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OH, yes !-so well, so tenderly

Thou'rt loved, adored by me,
Fame, fortune, wealth, and liberty,

Were worthless without thee.
Though brimmed with blessings pure and rare

Life's cup before me lay,
Unless thy love were mingled there,

I'd spurn the draught away.
Love thee?—so well, so tenderly,

Thou’rt loved, adored by me,
Fame, fortune, wealth, and liberty:

Are worthless without thee.

Without thy smile, how joylessly

All glory's meeds I see,
And even the wreath of victory

Must owe its bloom to thee.
Those worlds for which the conqueror sighs

For me have now no charms;
My only world those radiant eyes,

My throne those circling arms !
Oh, yes !—so well, so tenderly,

Thou'rt loved, adored by me,
Whole realms of light and liberty

Were worthless without thee.


COULDST thou look as dear as when

First I sighed for thee;
Couldst thou make me feel again
Every wish I breathed thee then,

Oh how blissful life would be

Hopes that now beguiling leave ine,

Joys that lie in slumber cold-
All would wake, couldst thou but give me

One dear smile like those of old.
Oh there's nothing left us now

But to mourn the past !
Vain was every ardent vow-
Never yet did Heaven allow

Love so warm, so wild, to last.
Not even hope could now deceive me-

Life itself looks dark and cold :
Oh thou never more canst give me

One dear smile like those of old.

The beam of morning trembling

Stole o'er the mountain brook,
With timid ray resembling

Affection's early look.
Thus love begins-sweet morn of love!
The noontide ray ascended,

And o'er the valley's stream
Diffused a glow as splendid

As passion's riper dream.
Thus love expands-warm noon of love
But evening came, o'ershading

The glories of the sky,
Like faith and fondness fading

From passion's altered eye.
Thus love declines-cold eve of love

The song of war shall echo through our mountains

Till not one hateful link remains
Of slavery's lingering chains ;

Till not one tyrant tread our plains,
Nor traitor lip pollute our fountains.

No! never till that glorious day
Shall Lusitania's sons be gay,

Or hear, O Peace, thy welcome lay
Resounding through her sunny mountains.
The song of war shall echo through our mountains

Till Victory's self shall smiling say,
“Your cloud of foes hath passed away,
And Freedom comes with new-born ray,

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