Thy belt of straw and ivy buds,
Thy coral clasps, and amber studs,
Can me with no enticements move
To live with thee, and be thy love.
But could youth last, and love still breed,
Had joys no date, had age no need,
Then those delights my inind might move
To live with thee, and be thy love.
ON THE SEAS AND FAR AWAY.
[Air-" O'er the hills, &c."
How can my poor heart be glad,
When absent from my sailor lad?
How can I the thought forego,
He's on the seas to meet the foe?
Let me wander, let me rove,
Still my heart is with my love;
Nightly dreams and thoughts by day
Are with him that's far away.
On the seas and far away,
On stormy seas and far away;
Nightly dreams and thoughts by day
Are aye with him that's far away.
When in summer's noon I faint,
As weary flocks around me pant,
Haply in this scorching sun
My sailor's thund'ring at his gun :
Bullets, spare my only joy!
Bullets, spare my darling boy!
Fate, do with me what you may,
Spare but him that's far away!
On the seas, &c.
At the starless midnight hour,
When winter rules with boundless power;
As the storms the forest tear,
And thunders rend the howling air,
Listening to the doubling roar,
Surging on the rocky shore,-
All I can-I weep and pray,
For his weal that's far away.
On the seas, &c.
Peace, thy olive wand extend,
And bid wild War his ravage end,
Man with brother man to meet,
And as a brother kindly greet:
Then may heaven with prosp'rous gales
Fill my sailor's welcome sails,
To my arms their charge convey,
My dear lad that's far away.
On the seas, &c.
I KNOW THOU DOST LOVE ME.
[Music by B. MOLIQUE.]
I KNOW thou dost love me,
Ay, frown as thou wilt,
And curl thy beautiful lip,
Which I never can gaze on
Without the guilt
Of burning its dew to sip;
I know that my heart is reflected in thine,
And, like flow'rs that o'er a brook incline,
They towards each other dip.
Tho' thou lookest so cold
In the halls of light,
'Mid the careless, proud, and gay,
I will steal like a thief,
In thy heart at night,
And pilfer its thoughts away!
I will come in thy dreams at the midnight hour,
And thy soul shall in secret own the pow'r
It dares to mock by day.
IT was written on the sand,
"Love cannot know decay;"
The waves rose o'er the strand,
And Love had passed away.
It was written on the sand,
"How firmly friends are tied ;"
Yet, traced by friendship's hand,
How soon the impress died!
Written on the sand!
It was written on the sand,
"The world is full of truth,"
By a happy sportive band,
Go search the spot, oh! youth!
They are written on the sand,
Our hopes, our joys, our fears;-
As the shores of life expand,
The waves are but our tears,
Falling on the sand!
OH! TELL ME HOW TO WOO?
[MARQUIS OF MONTROSE. 1640.]
Ir doughty deeds my layde please,
Right soone I'll mount my steed,
And strong his arm, and fast his seat,
That bears frae me the meed;
I'll wear thy colours in my cap,
Thy picture next my heart;
And be that bends not to thine eyes
Shall rue it to his smart :
Then tell me how to woo thee, love,
For thy dear sake no care I'll take,
Although another trow me.
If gay attire thy fancy please,
I'll deck thee in array,
I'll tend thy chamber-door all night,
And squire thee all the day!
If sweetest sounds can win thine ear,
These sounds I'll strive to catch;
Thy voice I'll steal to woo thysell,
That voice which none can match.
Then tell me how to woo, &c.
But if fond love thy heart can gain,
I never broke a vow;
No maiden, lays her skaith on me, —
I never loved but you!
For you alone I ride the ring,
For you I wear the blue,
For you alone I strive to sing-
Oh! tell me how to woo, &c.
VARIETY IN ONE.
[CHARLES DIBDIN.]
"IN one thou couldst find variety," Cried Dick, "wouldst thou on wedlock fix ?" "I rather should expect," cried I,
"Variety in five or six;"
"But never was thy counsel light,
I'll do't, my friend!-So said, so done,
I'm noosed for life, and Dick was right,
I find variety in one.
"Her tone has more variety
Than music's system can embrace;
She modulates through every key,
Squeaks treble, and growls double-bass;
Divisions runs, and trills, and shakes,
Enough the noisy spheres to stun:
Thus, as harsh discord music makes,
I find variety in one.
"Her dress boasts such variety,
Such forms, materials, fashions, hues ;
Each animal must plunder'd be,
From Russian bears to cockatoos;
Now 'tis a feather, now a zone,
Now she's a gipsy, now a nun;
To change, like the cameleon, prone-
En't this variety in one?
"In wedlock's wide variety,
Thought, word, and deed, we both concur,
If she's a thunderstorm to me,
So I'm an April day to her :
Devil and angel, black and white,
Thus as we Hymen's gauntlet run,
And kiss and scold, and love and fight,
Each finds variety in one.
"Then cherish love's variety,
In spite of every sneering elf;
We're Nature's children, and en't she,
In change, variety itself?
Her clouds and storms are willed by fate,
More bright, to show her radiant sun:
Hail then, blest wedlock, in whose state
Men find variety in one."
THE bud is on the bough,
And the blossom on the tree,
But neither bud nor blossom
Bring a thrill of joy to me.
Walled up within the city's gloom,
No pleasure can I know,
But like a caged linnet sing
To chase away my woe.
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