WHEN SHALL WE THREE MEET

AGAIN?

[Music by HORSLEY.]

WHEN shall we three meet again?
Oh! when shall we three meet again?
Oft shall glowing hope expire,
Oft shall wearied love retire,
Oft shall death and sorrow reign,
Ere we three shall meet again.
Though in distant lands we sigh,
Parch'd beneath a hostile sky;
Though the deep between us rolls,
Friendship shall unite our souls ;
Still, in fancy's rich domain,
Oft shall we three meet again.
When the dreams of life are fled,
When its wasted lamps are dead;
When, in cold oblivion's shade,
Beauty, power, and fame are laid,
Where immortal spirits reign,
There may we three meet again.

PRETTY THINGS YOUNG LOVERS

J. OXENFORD.]

SAY.

[Music by W. V. WALLACE.

Two lovers sat on the green hill side,
Merrily pass the hours away;

No jot they cared for the world so wide,
Would that the year were always May.
"Our hearts are bound," thus said the youth,
'By firmest bonds of love and truth,

Together we will live and die,

And in one grave we both shall lie."

Pretty things young lovers say,

Would that the year were always May.

An old man sat on the bare hill side,
Drearily pass the hours away;
The leaves so yellow he sadly eyed,
Autumn will come as well as May.
"Methinks," he said, "I once sat here,
And by me was a maiden dear;
I see her smiling on me yet,
But oh, her name I quite forget."
Pretty things young lovers say,
Would that the year were always May.

Two tombs were standing not side by side,
Swiftly the hours have passed away,
Between them tosses the ocean wide;
Gone is December, gone is May.
The weary wights who sleep beneath,
Were strange in life, were strange in death,
But they were once that happy pair
Who talked of love when youth was fair.
Pretty things young lovers say,

Would that the year were always May.

SWEET NANCY PAGE AND I.

M. WATSON.]

[Music by M. WATSON.

WE lived and loved as little ones,

Did Nancy Page and I,

Unconscious of the fleeting hours

That then were passing by;

We little thought, in our young hearts,
That youth like ours would die ;
But years roll'd on and still we loved,
Did Nancy Page and I.

One day it happen'd so to pass,

That Nancy Page and I

Were walking by the village church,
Recalling years gone by ;

I ask'd her then if she'd be mine;
And this was her reply:

"I'm yours till death!" Oh, happy then,
Were Nancy Page and I.

And since that day that made us one,

No sorrow have we seen,

Myself as happy as a king,

And Nancy as a queen.

And never from our humble home
May peace and comfort fly,
For happiest of the happy ones
Are Nancy Page and I.

THE SPLENDOUR FALLS ON CASTLE WALLS, OR THE BUGLE SONG.

ALFRED TENNYSON.]

[Music by J. BLOCKLEY.

THE splendour falls on castle walls, And snowy summits old in story," The long light shakes across the lakes, And the wild cataract leaps in glory. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying; Blow, bugle-answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.

Oh, hark! oh, hear! how thin and clear,
And thinner, clearer, farther going ;
Oh, sweet and far, from cliff and scar,
The horns of Elfland faintly blowing!
Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying;
Blow, bugle-answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.

Oh, love, they die in yon rich sky!
They faint on hill, on field, on river;
Our echoes roll from soul to soul,

And grow for ever and for ever.

Blow, bugie, blow, set the wild echoes flying; And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying.

OLD FRIENDSHIP'S SMILE.

E. FITZBALL.]

[Music by W. V. WALLACE.

WHILE on my home once more I gaze,
From this how well remembered steep,
And dream the dream of early days,
Come, memory, with me weep.
How changed am I, yet how unchanged
Appears this tranquil view;

The meads, the groves so often ranged,
Still smiling through the dew.

Still there the cutter's early fire,
Wreathing serene its column white,
Still there the old church dawnlit spire,
The warder's beacon light.

And thus when grief and adverse years
Leave nothing but a name,

Old friendship's smile, although in tears,
Will welcome us again.

WOULD YOU GAIN THE TENDER
CREATURE?

[Music by G. F. HANDEL.]

WOULD you gain the tender creature?
Softly, gently, kindly treat her.
Suffering is the lover's part;

Beauty by constraint possessing,
You enjoy but half the blessing,

Lifeless charms without the heart.

WHEN HE WHO ADORES THEE.

THOMAS MOORE.]

[Air-"The fox's sleep."

WHEN he who adores thee has but left the name

Of his fault and bis sorrow behind,

O say, wilt thou weep, when they darken the fame
Of a life that for thee was resign'd?

Yes, weep, and however my foes may condemn,
Thy tears shall efface their decree;

For heav'n can witness, though guilty to them,
I have been but too faithful to thee!

With thee were the dreams of my earliest love;
Every thought of my reason was thine :-
In my last humble prayer to the spirit above,
Thy name shall be mingled with mine!

Oh! blest are the lovers and friends who shall live,
The days of thy glory to see;

But the next dearest blessing that heaven can give, Is the pride of thus dying for thee!

G. LINLEY.]

IT WAS TO BE.

[Music by G. LINLEY.

IT was to be-regret is vain

Hope's dream hath pass'd away,

Like cliffs that have been rent in twain,
We're sever'd now for aye.

My heart, like some poor blighted rose
That withers on the tree,
Is left to brood o'er all its woes,
And perish loving thee.

It was to be-regret is vain—
Hope's dream hath pass'd away;
Was this the fate reserved for me?
Alas, it was to be!

I watch night's ling'ring shadows flee,
The hours wear darkly on;
The morning hath no charms for me,
Now thy sweet smile is gone.

The timid bird in yonder grove
Still chants his lay once dear;
But ah! each note I used to love
Falls coldly on mine ear.