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While the moonlight gently slept,

To the piano I stole,
And the closing evening crept,

While thus poured forth my restless soul.

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Eva, if those eyes of thine,

So bright, so full of tender love, Brighter grew on meeting mine,

While the starlight glowed above,

The moon should watch us from the sky,

While the nightingale sang sweet, And each breeze in sporting by,

Scattered rose leaves at thy feet.

The stars would twinkle brighter still

When your hand was laid on mine, When you yielded your sweet will,

Making all my wishes thine.

The breeze would sigh replete with joy,

As it fanned your flowing hair, With the tresses gently toy,

Wave the ribbons streaming there,

Breathing of far southern climes,

In a tender, feeling tone, Whispering of coming times,

When thou and I might rest alone. Then a warmer blush would spread

Mantling o'er thy varying cheek; Drooping falls your graceful head,

Looking modest, mild, and meek. Then my bosom would return

Every sigh breathed forth from thine ; Every pulse would fiercely burn,

With the joy to know thee mine. Life would then indeed be gay,

Every joy our love should prove, Like yon shining star of May,

Fed with hope, and born in love.

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Ah ! those notes so sweet prolong,
Softly falls thy liquid song,
Like the lark when first at dawn
He carols forth the lay of morn.

At my side oh, stay! While the evening falls,

Till the evening shadows pass away.

I can listen to thy voice,
Hear the accents of thy choice.
Song to me is ever dear,
Songs, like thine, I love to hear.

Sing on, prolong the lay,
While the evening falls,

Till the evening shadows pass away.

Yesternoon I thought of thee,
Wondering if you thought of me;
Ah! when will you come again ?
Would that you might here remain !

At my side to stay,
While the evening falls,

Till the evening shadows pass away.

I shall think when thou art gone,
When you leave me here alone,
Of the song you sang for me ;
Thus I end my song to thee.

Song closing the day,
While the evening falls,

Till the evening shadows pass away. XXXI.

Eva is grieved. She has been told
It is her duty to play,
When Annie and Alfred are together,
The part of gooseberry the old.
Alone they must not stay.
Gooseberry or propriety,
Avoiding notoriety,
At theatre, or at ball,
A third one with the lovers;
Shun it how she may,
'Tis a sister's duty.
If she be a beauty,
And in comes another,
Perchance, the lover's brother.
Then he can amuse
Her who plays propriety,
Else she feels satiety
Seeing others.“ spoon.”
Even when the moon
Brightly sheds its ray,
After summer's day;
For to sit alone,
Hearing others talk,
In an undertone,
About their love alone

Is really very slow-
To Eva, at least 'tis so.
Eva, who, so gay and sprightly,
Loves society, and rightly.
But the age requires
Certain social cares;
What though Eva tires,
Where is he who dares
To break the rules of society,
Regardless of modern propriety,
And from his inmost heart,
Act a natural part ?
'Tis time, for present civilisation
Is a constant battle,
'Twixt the nature of the nation
And the artificial rattle,
Growing year by year,

Advancing too fast for fear.
How can this state of things have end,
When nature is left without a friend ?
Shall we not back to barbarism
In confusion and shame be driven,
For neglecting, 'midst the strife for wealth,
The precious laws of life and health ?
But why should one so weak, so wrong,
'Gainst others' follies raise his song.

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