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III.

And so 't will be when I am gone;

That tuneful peal will still ring on,
While other bards shall walk these dells,
And sing your praise, sweet evening bells!

SHOULD THOSE FOND HOPES,

Portuguese Air.
I.

* SHOULD those fond hopes e'er forsake thee,
Which now so sweetly thy heart employ;
Should the cold world come to wake thee

From all thy visions of youth and joy;

Should the gay friends, for whom thou wouldst banish
Him who once thought thy young heart his own,

All like spring birds, falsely vanish,

And leave thy winter unheeded and lone ;

II.

Oh! 'tis then he thou has slighted

Would come to cheer thee, when all seem'd o'er;

Then the truant, lost and blighted,

Would to his bosom be taken once more.

Like that dear bird we both can remember,
Who left us while summer shone round,

But, when chill'd by bleak December,
Upon our threshold a welcome still found.

REASON, FOLLY, AND BEAUTY.

Italian Air.

I.

REASON, Folly, and Beauty, they say,
Went on a party of pleasure one day :
Folly play'd

Around the maid,

The bell of his cap rung merily out;

While Reason took

To his sermon-book

Oh! which was the pleasanter no one need doubt.

* The metre of the words is here necessarily sacrificed to the air.

II.

Beauty, who likes to be thought very sage,
Turn'd for a moment to Reason's dull page,
Till Folly said,

"Look here, sweet maid !"—

The sight of his cap brought her back to herself;
While Reason read

His leaves of lead,

With no one to mind him, poor sensible elf!

III.

Then Reason grew jealous of Folly's gay cap;
Had he that on, he her heart might entrap-
"There it is,"

Quoth Folly, "old quiz!"

But Reason the head-dress so awkwardly wore,
That Beauty now liked him still less than before;
While Folly took

Old Reason's book,

And twisted the leaves in a cap of such Ton,
That Beauty vow'd

(Though not aloud),

She liked him still better in that than his own!

FARE THEE WELL, THOU LOVELY ONE !

Sicilian Air.
I.

FARE thee well, thou lovely one!
Lovely still, but dear no more;
Once his soul of truth is gone,

Love's sweet life is o'er.

Thy words, whate'er their flattering spell,
Could scarce have thus deceived;

But eyes that acted truth so well

Were sure to be believed.

Then, fare thee well, thou lovely one!

Lovely still, but dear no more;

Once his soul of truth is gone,

Love's sweet life is o'er.

II.

Yet those eyes look constant still,

True as stars they keep their light;

Still those cheeks their pledge fulfil
Of blushing always bright.
'Tis only on thy changeful heart

The blame of falsehood lies;
Love lives in every other part,
But there, alas! he dies.

Then fare thee well, thou lovely one!

Lovely still, but dear no more;

Once his soul of truth is gone,

Love's sweet life is o'er.

DOST THOU REMEMBER?

Portuguese Air.

I.

Dost thou remember that place so lonely,
A place for lovers and lovers only,

Where first I told thee all my secret sighs?
When as the moon-beam, that trembled o'er thee,
Illumed thy blushes, I knelt before thee,

And read my hope's sweet triumph in those eyes!
Then, then, while closely heart was drawn to heart,
Love bound us-never, never more to part!

II.

* And when I call'd thee by names the dearest
That love could fancy, the fondest, nearest-
"My life, my only life!" among the rest;
In those sweet accents that still inthral me,
Thou saidst, "Ah! wherefore thy life thus call me?
Thy soul, thy soul's the name that I love best;

For life soon passes, but how blest to be

That soul which never, never parts from thee!"

OH! COME TO ME WHEN DAYLIGHT SETS.

Venetian Air.
I.

OH! Come to me when daylight sets;

Sweet! then come to me,

*The thought in this verse is borrowed from the original

Portuguese words.

When smoothly go our gondolets
O'er the moonlight sea.

When Mirth's awake, and Love begins,
Beneath that glancing ray,
With sound of lutes and mandolins,
To steal young hearts away.

Oh! come to me when daylight sets;
Sweet! then come to me,
When smoothly go our gondolets
O'er the moonlight sea.

II.

Oh! then's the hour for those who love,
Sweet! like thee and me;
When all 's so calm below, above,
In heaven and o'er the sea.
When maidens sing sweet barcarolles,+

And Echo sings again

So sweet, that all with ears and souls
Should love and listen then,
So, come to me when daylight sets;
Sweet! then come to me,
When smoothly go our gondolets
O'er the moonlight sea.

OFT, IN THE STILLY NIGHT.

Scotch Air.

I.

OFT, in the stilly night,

Ere Slumber's chain has bound me,

Fond Memory brings the light

Of other days around me;

The smiles, the tears,

Of boyhood's years,

The words of love then spoken;

The eyes that shone,

Now dimm'd and gone,

The cheerful hearts now broken!

+ Barcarolles, sorte de chansons en langue Vénitienne, que chantent les gondoliers à Venise.-ROUSSEAU, Dictionnaire de Musique.

Thus, in the stilly night,

Ere slumber's chain has bound me,
Sad memory brings the light

Of other days around me.

When I remember all

The friends, so link'd together,
I've seen around me fall,

Like leaves in wintry weather;
I feel like one

Who treads alone

Some banquet-hall deserted,

Whose lights are fled,

Whose garland's dead,

And all but he departed!

Thus, in the stilly night,

Ere Slumber's chain has bound me,

Sad Memory brings the light

Of other days around me.

HARK! THE VESPER HYMN IS STEALING.

Russian Air.

I.

HARK! the vesper hymn is stealing

O'er the waters, soft and clear;
Nearer yet and nearer pealing,
Jubilate, Amen.

Farther now, now farther stealing,
Soft it fades upon the ear,
Jubilate, Amen.

II.

Now, like moonlight waves retreating
To the shore, it dies along ;
Now, like angry surges meeting,
Breaks the mingled tide of song.
Jubilate, Amen.

Hush! again, like waves, retreating

To the shore, it dies along,
Jubilate, Amen.

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