THE SORROWS OF THE HEART.
[Music by M. W. BALFE.
THY beauty, while it thrills my soul,
Cannot dispel its gloom,
But beams with a deceptive light,
Like roses on a tomb.
And yet by thee beguil'd, enchain'd,
I still would at its shrine,
To win thy love, lay down my life,
My fame to call thee mine.
Oh! Bianca, oh! Bianca,
Thy beauty, while it thrills my soul,
Cannot dispel its gloom,
But beams with a deceptive light,
Like roses on a tomb.
Then lady, while thy radiant smiles
Each stricken sense subdue,
Oh, may they, as they rend the heart,
Allay its sorrow too!
[Music by H. PHILLIPS,
THE forest we enter, silently and slow,
Let not a leaf be turn'd-soft, breathe low.
Thicker, more gloomy the deep forest grows;
Look for the track where the streamlet flows.
Hush! hush! hush! 'tis a rustling noise!
Steady, my lads! steady! be silent, my boys!
Fire! what is that? an old racoon?
guess, lad, you fired too soon.
Onward we bend, and the fern grows high,
We cannot be far off, a bear must be nigh.
Hark! hark! a growl! then each take his tree,
Let the old woodman go forth now and see.
A bear and her cubs! she's up in her lair!
Fire! you have hit her! Again, boys, prepare.
Hit again! now then she runs to the tree.
Hit again! bravo! she flies now to thee.
Another shot! down she goes! seize on your prey,
And then on our shoulders we'll bear her away.
Then praise to the woodman whose feast we prepare,
Whose shot kill'd the brute in her secret lair;
And sing the old song of the shot that is best,
By our wood fires bright in the far, far West.
[It is generally understood that the Fairies reward those who listen to their fairy-tunes with respect and attention, and that they have power to punish those who disturb, or who treat them with disrespect and neglect.]
IF you hear a sound at night
Borne upon the breeze,
Like the voice of seraph bright,
Like the whispering trees;
If it flow, though faint and low,
Like a stream along,
Hush! your lightest breath forego,
'Tis the fairies' song.
And bless'd are they by mystic throng
Who calmly hear the fairies' song.
If the sound be like a voice
Whispering to your heart,
If it makes your soul rejoice
Like Kathleen's when apart:
If ye pause and wonder why
Such to earth belong,
Do not breathe your lightest sigh,
"Tis the fairies' song.
And they are bless'd by mystic throng
Who ne'er disturb the fairies' song.
Then, if after many a year
Some bard of Erin's isle,
Sings the songs ye love to hear,
And your heart beguile;
If that bard your soul has stirred,
Be his passion strong,
Oh! be sure that he has heard,
And caught the fairies' song.
Oh, Erin's bards sing sweet and strong,
For they have heard the fairies' song.
THE CARMAN'S WHISTLE.
[Tune-"The Carman's whistle." 16th Century.]
YOUNG Tom the carman's tongue was slow,
A sorry gift of speech had he;
He'd rather let his horses know
His secret thoughts than you or me.
He whistled, whistled, whistled daily,
Whether good or ill befell;
He whistled sadly, whistled gaily,
While his horses mark'd him well.
Fair Susan's glance was proud and cold,
The carman's heart she nearly broke;
But still his face was bluff and bold,
And not a single word he spoke.
He whistled, whistled, whistled sadly,
Whistled, whistled all the day ;
But though he whistled, whistled madly,
Could not whistle care away.
Fair Susan's glance was kind and bright,
She own'd her love, that buxom maid;
Young Tom was crazy with delight,
He stammer'd, blush'd, but nought he said.
He whistled, whistled, whistled gaily,
His joy by whistling he would tell,
And while he whistled, whistled daily,
The knowing beasts rejoic'd as well.
BUXOM NAN.
[CHARLES DIBDIN.]
THE wind was hushed, the storm was over,
Unfurled was ev'ry flowing sail,
From toil released, when Dick, of Dover,
Went with his messmates to regale;
All danger o'er, cried he, my neat hearts,
Drown care then in the smiling can;
Come, bear a hand, let's toast our sweethearts,
And first I'll give my Buxom Nan.
She's none of those that's always gigging,
And stem and stern made up of art-
One knows a vessel by her rigging-
Such ever slight a constant heart:
With straw hat and pink streamers flowing,
How oft to meet me has she ran ;
While for dear life would I be rowing,
To meet with smiles my Buxom Nan.
Jack Jollyboat went to the Indies
To see him stare when he came back, The girls were so all off the hinges,
His Poll was quite unknown to Jack: Taut-masted all, to see who's tallest, Breast-works, top-ga'ant sails, and a fanMessmate, cried I, more sail than ballast, Ah! still give me my Buxom Nan.
None in life's sea can sail more quicker,
To show her love or serve a friend;
But hold, I'm preaching o'er my liquor,
This one word, then, and there's an end:
Of all the wenches whatsomdever,
I say, then, find me out who can,
One half so tight, so kind, so clever,
Sweet, trim, and neat as Buxom Nan.
[Music by M. W. BALFE.
A MAIDEN SO fair loved a Moorish knight,
And bravest of knights was he,
His heart was the treasure-his look the light,
That led her o'er land and sea.
And prized he the maiden as life-blood dear,
And nought could her brightness dim ;
The dream of her happiness he was here,
And she was the world to him!
She followed her love to the field of death,
With her knightly love was slain ;
She sighed on his bosom her parting breath,
And woke she never again!
In beauty of maidenhood fell she there,
And he in his armour bright;
So sleep they together, the faithful pair,
The maid and her Moorish knight!
IS THERE TRUTH IN FAIRY SPELLS?
[Music by STEPHEN GLOVER,
Is there truth in fairy spells,
In the tales we heard of yore?
If the heart in fondness dwells,
On the dear old fairy lore,
If those memories we retain
Still the gloomy hour repels,
If we may feel young again,
Then there's truth in fairy spells !
If in sorrow's dark'ning hour
A human voice can cheer,
If some kind words have such power
From the lips we love so dear;
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