Bleaker winds the flowers benumbing;
On the hearth the cricket sings;
Home the laden bee flies humming,
And the drowsy bat is coming,
Darting on his leathern wings.

Good night! Good night!

Man now seeks his peaceful dwelling,
Circles round the ruddy blaze,
Of the sweets of labour telling,
Till his heart, with rapture swelling,
Grateful gives his Maker praise.

Good night! Good night!

THE COTTAGE AND MILL.

FANNY E. LACY.]

[Music by FANNY E. LACY.

Have you seen the new cottage just built by the squire ?

And is it not all a fond heart can desire?

With its pretty white gate, which half-open doth stand,
Where the clustering roses seem courting your hand;
In its garden so trim, that you cannot but stay
To gather the freshness, and bear them away?
Yes! often I stroll to the church on the hill,
Where I viewed the old cottage and old water-mill.

Yes! there it was once stood the old water-mill,
And through the green meadows there rippled the rill;
And welcome were we in the good miller's time,
When the mill and its master were both in their prime;
And oft, as we joined in the gay rustic throng,
Have we chorused the laugh, as we chorused the song ;
But now, as I stroll to the church on the hill,
I view but the ruins of cottage and mill.

Our friend has departed, the mill has decayed,
And Time, I confess, some sad changes has made;

But Time still, we know, like the mill, goeth round-
New faces smile kindly, with hearts full and sound;
Yet fancy still echoes the merry click-clack,
When neither the mill nor the labour was slack,
As I ramble, in thought, to the church on the hill,
Where I viewed the old cottage and old water-mill.

ANONYMOUS.]

JOHNNY SANDS.

[Music by J. SINCLAIR.

A man, whose name was Johnny Sands,
Had married Betty Haigh,

And though she brought him gold and lands,
She proved a terrible plague;

For, oh, she was a scolding wife,

Full of caprice and whim;
He said that he was tired of life,
And she was tired of him.

Says he, "Then I will drown myself;
The river runs below."

Says she, "Pray do, you silly elf!
I wished it long ago.

Says he, "Upon the brink I'll stand,
Do
you run down the hill,

And push me in with all your might."
Says she, "My love, I will."

"For fear that I should courage lack,
And try to save my life,

Pray tie my hands behind my back."
"I will," replied his wife.

She tied them fast, as you may think,
And when securely done,
"Now stand," she says, "upon the brink,
And I'll prepare to run."

All down the hill his loving bride
Now ran, with all her force,

To push him in; he stepped aside,
And she fell in of course.

Now splashing, dashing, like a fish,
Oh, save me, Johnny Sands!""

"I can't, my dear, though much I wish, For you have tied my hands."

Mrs. GROOME.]

OVER THE SEA.

[Music by Mrs. GROOME,

Over the sea, over the sea,

Hear what a little bird whispered to me-
Over the sea, over the sea!

Somebody's coming ere long.
Then march, march, march!
Ye lads of the heather,
Come trooping together,
Come march, march, march!

Gallant hearts, valiant and strong!
Oh, it's over the sea, over the sea,

Hear what a bonnie bird whispered to me-
Over the sea, over the sea!

Somebody's coming ere long!

Over the sea, over the sea,

Too long my laddie has wandered fra' mc-
Over the sea, over the sea!

Now he is coming once more.
Then we'll march, march, march,
To greet him once more

On his own native shore!

Let us march, march, march,

And bear him in triumph along!
Oh, it's over the sea, over the sea,

Hear what a bonnie bird whispered to mc

Over the sea, over the sea,

Charlie is coming once more!

BEAUTIFUL VENICE.

J. E. CARPENTER.]

Beautiful Venice ! city of song!

[Music by J. P. KNIGHT.

What mem'ries of old to thy regions belong!
What sweet recollections cling to my heart,
As thy fast fading shores from my vision depart!
Oh, Poesy's home is thy light colonnades,

Where the winds gently sigh as the sweet twilight fades!

I have known many homes, but the dwelling for me Is beautiful Venice, the bride of the sea!

Beautiful Venice ! Queen of the earth!

Where dark eyes shine brightly 'mid music and mirth

Where gay serenaders, by light of the star,

Oft mingle their songs with the dulcet guitar!
All that's lovely in life-all that's deathless in song-
Fair Italy's isles-to thy regions belong:

I have known many homes, but the dwelling for me
Is beautiful Venice, the bride of the sea!

[Music by J. L. HOPKINS.

THE CHILD AND THE DEWDROPS. J. E. CARPENTER.] "Oh, father, dear father! why pass they away, The dewdrops that sparkled at dawning of dayThat glittered like stars by the light of the moon, Oh, why are those dewdrops dissolving so soon? Does the sun, in his wrath, chase their brightness

away,

As though nothing that's lovely might live for a day?
The moonlight has faded-the flowers still remain,
But the dew has dried out of their petals again.'

"My child," said the father, "look up to the skies,
Behold yon bright rainbow-those beautiful dyes;

There there are the dewdrops in glory reset,
'Mid the jewels of heaven they are glittering yet.
Then are we not taught, by each beautiful ray,

To mourn not earth's fair things though fleeting away? For, though youth of its brightness and beauty be riven,

All that withers on earth blooms more brightly in heaven."

Alas, for the father! how little knew he

The words he had spoken prophetic could be!
That the beautiful child, the bright star of his day,
Was e'en then, like the dewdrops, dissolving away
Oh, sad was the father, when lo! in the skies
The rainbow again spread its beauteous dyes;
And then he remembered the maxims he'd given,
And thought of his child and the dewdrops-in
heaven!

THE BEST OF ALL GOOD COMPANY.

BARRY CORNWALL.]

Sing! Who sings

[Music by HENRY PHILLIPS,

To her who weareth a hundred rings?

Ah, who is this lady fine?

The Vine, boys! the Vine!

The mother of mighty Wine.
A roamer is she

O'er wall and tree,

And sometimes very good company.

Drink!-Who drinks

To her who blusheth and never thinks?
Ah, who is this maid of thine?

The Grape, boys! the Grape!
O, never let her escape

Until she be turned to Wine!

For better is she,

Than vine can be,

And very, very good company!