I MISS THY KIND AND GENTLE VOICE. [Music by L. WILLIAMS. I miss thy kind and gentle voice

L. WILLIAMS.]

I miss thy cheerful smile,

That could with happy hearts rejoice,
Or lonely hours beguile.

Amid our favourite haunts alone
And sad at heart, I stray,

The scene is changed since thou art gone-
Its charms have pass'd away;

And every bird and every flower

That in my path I see,

But brings to mind some happy hour
That here I pass'd with thee.

And when the summer days are o'er,
And winter's winds blow shrill,
I sit beside the hearth once more,
And there I miss thee still.
That sunny smile is far away-
I seek it now in vain!

That voice, sweet as the song-bird's lay,
I ne'er shall hear again.
E'en as the dove at evening strays
Home to its resting tree,

So mem'ry turns to those bright days
That here I pass'd with thee.

COME O'ER THE TIDE.

J. E. CARPENTER.]

[Music by J. W. HOBBS.

Come o'er the tide, come o'er the tide,

Somebody's waiting and would be your bride;
What though she said you for ever must roam,
Somebody's weary of waiting at home;
If maidens are bashful, and lovers are proud,
There are faults upon both sides it must be allow'd;

But maidens don't always their lovers forego,

If the first time they're asked they by chance should

say "No!"

Then come o'er the tide, &c.

Come o'er the tide, come o'er the tide,
Somebody's foolish it can't be denied;
But somebody's willing the past to atone,
For somebody's weary of waiting alone.
Though scarcely worth having is he, she's afraid,
Who takes a refusal at once from a maid;
'Tis not always certain she loves him the less-
So ask her again-and perhaps she'll say "Yes."
Then come o'er the tide, &c.

"THE BRIDGE OF SIGHS."*

S. LOVER.]

Above the sparkling waters,

[Music by S. LOVEB.

Where Venice crowns the tide,
Behold the home of sorrow

So near the home of pride;

A palace and a prison
Beside each other rise,

And dark between a link is seen-
It is "The Bridge of Sighs."

Row, gondolier, row fast, row fast,
Until that fatal bridge be past.

But not alone in Venice

Are joy and grief so near,
To-day the smile may waken,
To-morrow wake the tear;

The mystery attendant upon the Councils of Venice increased the terror of their rule. A covered bridge between the Ducal Palace and the state prison served as a private passage, by which suspected or condemned persons were transferred, at once, from examination to the dungeon-hence it was called "The Bridge of

"Tis next the "House of mourning"
That pleasure's palace lics,

"Twixt joy and grief, the passage brief-
Just like "The Bridge of Sighs."

Row, gondolier, row fast, row fast,
Until that fatal bridge be past.

Who seeks for joy unclouded
Must never seek it here;
But in a purer region-

And in a brighter sphere;
To lead the way before us,
Bright hope unfailing flies:

To Eden's bowers-this earth of ours-
Is but a "Bridge of Sighs."

Fly, fly sweet hope, fly fast, fly fast,
Until that Bridge of Sighs be past.

BLACK EYES OR BLUE.

J. E. CARPENTER.]

[Music by E. L. HIME.

Black eyes or blue, black eyes or blue,

Which the most lovely, most brilliant and bright? Those softly beaming with heavenly hue,

Or those shining out like the stars of the night? Each in its turn plays a mischievous part,

Why then dispute what its colour may be ;
Both own a language that speaks to the heart,
Give me the eyes that speak only to me.

Some love the blue for their temperate glow,
Some love the black for their brilliance and fire;
If but for me, when their tears gently flow,
What is there more that I need to desire?
Love from the eyes shoots his mischievous dart,
Nor heeds he what colour his arrows may be ;
From black eyes or blue they go straight to the heart,
Then give me the eyes that look kindly on me.

OH! SAY NOT WOMAN'S HEART IS

Рососк.]

BOUGHT.

[Music by J. WHITTAKER,

Oh! say not woman's heart is bought
With vain and empty treasure;
Oh! say not woman's heart is caught
By every idle pleasure.

When first her gentle bosom knows
Love's flame, it wanders never;
Deep in her heart the passion glows,—
She loves, and loves for ever.

Oh! say not woman's false as fair,
That like the bee she ranges;
Still seeking flowers more sweet and rare,
As fickle fancy changes.

Ah, no! the love that first can warm
Will leave her bosom never;
No second passion e'er can charm,—
She loves, and loves for ever.

THE FALCONER'S SON.
[L. WILLIAMS.]

As down through the meadows I wander'd one eve, "Twas the close of a midsummer day,

All was silent around, and you'll scarcely believe
"Twas by chance quite I wandered that way.
The birds were asleep, and the stars faintly peep'd
From the clear azure sky one by one,
When who should I see coming over the lea
But young Harry, the falconer's son.

Now was it not strange that the very next day
We should meet near the very same spot!
Well! wonders are never to end, so they say,
But that did seem most strange, did it not?

For myself I can say (ah! smile at it you may),
Of all persons the very last one

That I thought to see, coming over the lea,
Was young Harry, the falconer's son.

And when in the evening I sometimes repair
To join in the sports on the green,

Though maidens are there, who perhaps are more fair, Still he always proposes me queen.

And a secret I'll tell, but be sure keep it well"Tis my heart he already has won,

And before the spring-tide you may guess who'll be bride

Of young Harry, the falconer's son.

THE OLD ENGLISH GENTLEMAN.

ANONYMOUS.]

[Old English Air.

I'll sing you a good old song,
Made by a good old pate,
Of a fine old English gentleman
Who had an old estate,
And who kept up his old mansion
At a bountiful old rate;
With a good old porter to relieve
The old poor at his gate,
Like a fine old English gentleman
All of the olden time.

His hall so old was hung around
With pikes, and guns, and bows,
And swords, and good old bucklers,
That had stood against old foes;
'Twas there "his worship" held his state
In doublet and trunk hose,

And quaff'd his cup of good old sack,

To warm his good old nose,

Like a fine, &c.