Thou art gone from my gaze, but I will not repine,
Ere long we shall meet in the home that's now thine;
For I feel thou art near, and where'er I may be,
That thy spirit of love keeps a watch over me.

BLUE VIOLETS.

EDWARD FITZBALL.]

[Music by G. H. RODWELL.

Violets, violets, beautiful blue violets!

Laden with perfume, and dripping all with dew, By dell and by dingle, by rill and by rivulets, Lady, at sunrise, I sought them for you.

Enclos'd in a cluster of green leaves I found them, Hiding their heads from the gaze of the day; Betray'd by the sweets they themselves shed around them,

I pluck'd the coy blossoms and bore them away.
Violets, violets, &c.

Then slight not-oh! slight not-the shy little flower
It seeks not to vie with the gay garden rose;
Tho' humble the incense it brings to your bower,
If its life is a short one, 'tis sweet to the close.
Violets, violets, &c.

MARK LEMON.]

LOVELY NIGHT.

Lovely night, lovely night,

[Music by J. H. TULLY.

They have called thee dark and drear,
But the light, but the light,

Is to me not half so dear.

For though the sunlight gladsome seems,
Too oft it brings but tears alone,
But circled with thy fairy dreams,
How many joys my heart hath known.

Lovely night, &c.

Lovely night, lovely night,

Though the dews may be thy tears,
Yet how bright, yet how bright,

From thy grief the world appears.
The flowers that before the noon,
Had faded with the sun's warm ray,
When smiled on by the gentle moon,
Revive to bless the coming day.

Lovely night, &c.

SAMUEL LOVER.]

JESSIE.

[Music by S. LOVER.

Sweet Jessie was young and simple,
And mirth beam'd in her eye,
And her smile made a rosy dimple
Where love might wish to lie,
But when lovers were sighing after,
And vowed she was matchless fair,
Her silver-sounding laughter

Said, love had not been there.

The summer had seen her smiling,
'Mong flowers as fair as she,
But autumn beheld her sighing,

When the leaves fell from the tree;
And the light of her eye was shaded,
And her brow had a cast of care,
And the rose on her cheek was faded,
For, oh! love had been there.

When winter winds were blowing,
She roved by the stormy shore,
And looked o'er the angry ocean,
And shrunk at the breakers' roar;
And her sighs, and her tearful wonder,
At the perils that sailors dare,
In the storm and the battle's thunder,
Showed love was trembling there.

No ring is upon her finger,
And the raven locks are gray,
Yet traces of beauty linger,

Like the light of the parting day;
She looks with a glance so tender,
On a locket of golden hair,
And a tear to his ship's defender,
Shows love's own dwelling there.

Lord BYRON.]

MAID OF ATHENS.

[Music by H. R. ALLEN.

Maid of Athens, ere we part,

Give, oh give me back my heart!
Or, since that has left my breast,
Keep it now,
and take the rest.

Hear my vow before I go,

Zoe mou, sas agapo. *

By those tresses unconfined,

Wooed by each

geian wind;

By those lids whose jetty fringe

Kiss thy soft cheeks' blooming tinge;
By those wild eyes like the roe,
Hear my vow before I go,

Zoe mou, sas agapo.*

Maid of Athens, I am gone,

Think of me, sweet, when alone;

Though I fly to Istamboul,

Athens holds my heart and soul.
Can I cease to love you? No!
Zoe mou, sas agapo.*

*My life, my life, I love thee.

THE MONKS OF OLD.

WILLIAM JONES.]

[Music by S. GLOVER.

Many have told of the monks of old,
What a saintly race they were;

But 'tis more true that a merrier crew,
Could not be found elsewhere.

For they sung and laughed, and the rich wine quaffed,
And lived on the daintiest cheer.

And then they would jest at the love confessed
By many an artless maid:

What hopes and fears they had breath'd in the cars
Of those who had sought their aid.

For they sung and laughed, and the rich wine quaffed,
As they told of each love-sick jade.

And the abbot meek, with his form so sleek,
Was the heartiest of them all;

And would take his place with a smiling face,
When refection bell would call.

When they sung and laughed, and the rich wine quaffed,
Till they shook the olden wall.

Then say what you will, we'll drink to them still,
For a jovial band they were;

And 'tis most true that a merrier crew
Could not be found elsewhere.

For they sung and laughed, and the rich wine quaffed,
And lived on the daintiest cheer.

E. J. GILL.]

MADOLINE.

[Music by S. NELSON.

I dream of thee, sweet Madoline !
So beautiful and bright;

My mem'ry weaves each look of thine
With ev'ry thought of light.

Thou art the music of my heart,
That whispers through each day,
That speaks thy name in ev'ry breeze,
When far from thee away.

I dream of thee, &c.

I dream of thee, dear Madoline,
Through life's sad waste of years;

Like Spring's sweet breath to flow'rs that droop,
Thy beaming smile appears.
Whene'er the world may cast its care,
When sorrows near I see;

I fear no shade, for in my grief

I turn again to thee.

I dream of thee, &c.

WOULD I WERE WITH THEE.

Hon. Mrs. NORTON.]

[Music by EDOUARDO SCHULTZ.

Would I were with thee ev'ry day and hour,
Which now I spend so sadly far from thee;
Would that my form possess'd the magic pow'r
To follow where my heavy heart would be.
Whate'er thy lot, by land or sea,

Would I were with thee eternally.

Would I were with thee, when the world forgetting,
Thy weary limbs upon the turf are thrown;
When bright and red the ev'ning sun is setting
And all thy thoughts belong to heav'n alone;
When happy dreams thy heart employ,
Would I were with thee in thy joy.

Would I were with thee, when no longer feigning
The hurried laugh that stifles back a sigh;
When thy young lip pours forth its sweet complaining,
And tears have quench'd the light within thine eye;
When all seems dark and sad below,

Would I were with thee in thy woe.