The purest hopes her bosom know, Her lot in life is fixed with thine, And well I know 'twill be her pride And may your days glide sweetly on THE HOLLY! THE HOLLY! A traveller have I been from birth, Yet ne'er saw I the tree on earth The holly-the holly with berries red, That garlands the snows of old winter's head. The cedar is a mighty thing, It form'd the temple's roof; With trunk of tempest proof. But nought is like the holly leaf The holly, &c. The laurel pays the poet's deeds; The laurel soldiers win; But lattice panes with holly beads To make the traveller's sorrows brief, No! nought is like the holly leaf The holly, &c. THE LAKE OF KILLARNEY. THOMAS DIBDIN.] [Music by H. PHILLIPS. Oh! the Lake of Killarney is wide as 'tis deep, Where the frolicsome fishes disportingly play; Where at midnight the moonbeams so silently sleep, And the sun's golden spangles dance gaily by day; And it's there, dearest Oona, thy lovely face Made me blind to all other sweet charms of the place. Oh! the mountains of Erin are lofty and high, And our bold Giant's Causeway bewitchingly grand; And delighted with joy is the traveller's eye, While viewing the gems of our dear native land. But let him, dear Oona, behold thy dear face, Ile'll be blind to all other sweet charms of the place. Oh! the lake's not so deep as the wound in my breast, Nor the mountains so high as the hope of my heart: That only with Oona in life can be blest, And that only in death with her image will part. For rove where I will, when I think of that face, Och, I'm blind to all other sweet charms of the place. SHE WORE A WREATH OF ROSES. She wore a wreath of roses Her footsteps had the lightness, Yet methinks I see her now, -A wreath of orange flowers, When next we met, she wore; The expression of her features Was more thoughtful than before; And standing by her side was one, Who strove, and not in vain, To soothe her leaving that dear home, She ne'er might view again. I saw her but a moment, Yet methinks I see her now, And once again I see that brow- And there is no one near To press her hand within his own, And methinks I see her now, IS MY LOVER ON THE SEA? [BARRY CORNWALL.] Is my lover on the sea, Sailing east, or sailing west? Mighty ocean, gentle be— Let no angry wind arise, Nor a wave with whitened crest; When he is caressed. Bear him, as the breeze above T. H. BAYLY.] THE WIDOW. [Music by G. A. HODSON. I cannot love another, To love's beguiling voice- Oh! offer nought but friendship, And mark how I'll attend! Dare not to breathe love's name; Those dark eyes, could I listen, And see, my child clings to me, To fondle and embrace. Unconsciously his finger My wedding ring hath press'd, For smiling on my guest. ANONYMOUS.] BELLA DONNA. [Music by H. R. ALLEN. Bella Donna, wouldst thou know Eyes, sweet purity's fair throne; Balmy breath and silv'ry tone; Bella Donna, wouldst thou know "Tis thy breast with faith abounding! "Tis a charm no tongue can tell! Thee, with virtue's spell! 'Tis thy heart, proud honour's throne! Bella Donna, wouldst thou know What doth make me love thee so? Were my breast with anguish swelling, cheek, I would know the spirit's dwelling, Kind, and true, and meck: These attributes around thee thrown, |