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Then, remember, wherever the goblet is crown'd,
roam, When a cup to the smile of dear woman goes round,
Oh! remember the smiles that adorn her at home.
AFTER THE BATTLE. T. MOORE.]
[Air" Thy fair bosom," NIGHT clos'd around the conqueror's way,
And lightnings show'd the distant hill,
Stood few and faint, but fearless still !
For ever dimm’d, for ever crost-
When all but life and honour's lost?
And valour's task, mov'd slowly by,
Should rise and give them light to die.
Where tyrants taint not pature’s bliss ;
Oh! who would live a slave in this ?
A SPELL IS HANGING O’ER ME. J. E. CARPENTER.]
[Air-Italian. A SPELL is hanging o'er me,
A'fate seems on me now;
Some curse hangs on my brow.
That my steps nust wander o'er,
To a bleak, unfriendly shore.
But thy form is ever near me,
Though I wander far away;
With its soft and glad’ning ray,
On each passing scene of pain,
And calms my soul again.
HERE'S A HEALTH TO THEE, TOM
And my bark is on the sea ;
Here's a double health to thee !
Here's a sigh for those I love,
And a smile for those I hate ;
Here's a heart for any fate.
It still shall bear me on;
It hatk springs that may be won.
As I gasp'd upon the brink,
'Tis to thee that I would drink !
In that water, as this wine,
The libation I would pour
And a health to thee, Tom Moore."
THE WAVING GREENWOOD TREE. G. LINLEY.]
[Music by LIN LEY. Now by the waving greenwood tree
We merry, merry warriors roam ;
We hail our natire home!
Or, hiding in the shade,
Now by the waving, &c.
We merry, merry warriors roam ;
We hail our native home!
But our nut-brown ale is good;
While the rough winds are our choristers rude.
WHEN FORCED FROM DEAR HEBE
TO GO. SAENSTONE.]
[Music by Dr. ARNE. When forced from dear Hebe to go,
What anguish I felt at my heart !
She was sorry to see me depart;
My path I could scarcely discern,
I thought that she bade me return.
To the grove I had labour'd to rear ;
I hasten'd and planted it there.
Her voice such a pleasure conveys,
So much I her accents adore,
I'm sure still to love her the more.
Come, shepherds, and talk of her ways : I could lay down my life for the swain
That would sing me a song in her praise ; While he sings may the maids of the town
Come flocking and listen awhile ; Nor on him let Hebe once frown, -
But I cannot allow her to smile.
Some hermit peep out of his cell :
How fondly he wishes her well!
'Twill warm the cold boson of age; But cease, gentle Hebe, oh ! cease,
Such softness will ruin the sage.
To paint the dear charms I approve,
So sweet, so delightful, as love ? I sing in a rustical way,
A shepherd and one of the throng; Yet, Hebe approves of my lay;
Go poets, and envy my song.
JOE OF THE BELL.
AROUND the face of blue-eyed Sue
Did auburn ringlets curl ;
Her teeth two rows of pearl.
Joe of the Bell, whose wine they said
Espoused this nonpareil.
They're welcome to the Bell.”
Behind the bar to dine,
Much mellower than her wine.
He'd dust his jacket well;
He's welcome to the Bell.”
I'LL FOLLOW THEE. J. E. CARPENTER.]
[Music by HENEY FARMER, I'LL follow thee, I'll follow thee,
Wherever thou mayst go,
Or the realm of winter snow;
As a woman's heart can be,
I will follow, follow thee !
Whatever thou may’st prize,
Beneath the alien skies;
As a faithful heart can be,
I will follow, follow thee!