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WILL YOU COME TO THE BOWER ?
I. Will you come to the bower I have shaded for you? Our bed shall be roses all spangled with dew. Will you, will you, will you, will you
Come to the bower?
II. There, under the bower, on roses you'll lie, With a blush on your cheek, but a smile in your eye.
will you, will you, will you
Kiss me, my love?
And oh! for the joys that are sweeter than dew
In love-dreams languishingly pining,
Like truant genius, idly shining.
That love and mischief are most nimble;
And knew its winning ways so wily,
And laughing said, “We'll steal it slily.”
The needle, having nonght to do,
Was pleased to let the magnet wheedle,
To some gay Ridicule's construction,
Nor felt a magnet's sly seduction.
Your snowy fingers must be nimble;
Of Cupid, is Minerva's thimble.
THE RABBINICAL ORIGIN OF WOMAN.
Just pick'd from a corner so snug in the side ;
With a tail like a monkey, full yard and a span ;
The ninny who weds is a pitiful elf';
Every husband remembers th' original plan,
Derry down, down, down derry down.
Time shall only teach my heart
Farewell, Bessy !
And repose our hearts at last ;
When I think I stray from thee,
Can it, dearest! must it be?
Farewell, Bessy !
TO-DAY, DEAREST! IS OURS,
Why should Love carelessly lose it?
Just as we, weak mortals, use it. 'Tis time enough, when its flowers decay,
To think of the thorns of Sorrow; And Joy, if left on the stem to-day, May wither before to-morrow,
Then why, dearest! so long
Let the sweet moments fly over?
Thou hast me devoutly thy lover,
Some treasure may steal or borrow ;
Or I less in love to-morrow.
WHEN ON THE LIP THE SIGH DELAYS.
When on the lip the sigh delays,
As if 'twould linger there for ever;
Yet still look down, and venture never ;
There's one we dream of more than any-
To think and ponder, when apart,
On all we've got to say at meeting;
Sit mute, and listen to their beating :
The only moon, where stars are many“
I prithee say what is, my Fanny!
When Hope foretels the brightest, best,
Though Reason on the darkest reckons ;
Though Prudence to the eastward beckons ;
And our own heads the most of any
Then you and I are sages, Fanny.
HERE, TAKE MY HEART.
While I go wandering o'er land and o'er sea;
They who have light hearts the happiest beHappier still must be they who have none, love, And that will be my case when mine is with thee!
No matter how many bright eyes I see;
And should Dame Fortune turn truant to me,
As long as my heart's out at interest with thee !
OH! CALL IT BY SOME BETTER NAME.
For Friendship is too cold,
Whose shrine must be of gold;
That burns o'er all he sees,
More free from stain of clay,
Yet buman still as they :
No mortal word can frame,
And call it by that name!