LESBIA HATH A BEAMING EYE. AIR.-Nora Creina. I. LESBIA hath a beaming eye, But no one knows for whom it beameth; Right and left its arrows fly, But what they aim at no one dreameth! Sweeter 'tis to gaze upon My NORA's lid, that seldom rises; Few its looks, but every one, Like unexpected light, surprises! My gentle, bashful NORA CREINA ! In many eyes, But love in yours, my NORA CREINA ! II. LESBIA wears a robe of gold, But all so close the nymph hath laced it, Not a charm of Beauty's mould Presumes to stay where Nature placed it! Oh! my NORA's gown for me, That floats as wild as mountain breezes, To sink or swell, as Heaven pleases! My simple, graceful NORA GREINA! Is loveliness The dress you wear, my NORA CREINA! III. LESBIA hath a wit refined, But, when its points are gleaming round us, Who can tell if they're design'd To dazzle merely or to wound us? Pillow'd on my NORA's heart, In safer slumber Love reposes→→→→ Bed of peace! whose roughest part Is but the crumpling of the roses. Oh, my NORA CREINA, dear! My mild, my artless NORA CREINA! Wit, though bright, Hath not the light That warms your eyes, my NORA CREINA! I SAW THY FORM IN YOUTHFUL PRIME. AIR.-Domhnall. I. I SAW thy form in youthful prime, II. As streams that run o'er golden mines, Nor seem to know the wealth that shines Thy radiant genius shone, And that which charm'd all other eyes III. If souls could always dwell above, Thou ne'er hadst left that sphere ; Or, could we keep the souls we love, We ne'er had lost thee here, MARY! To live with them is far less sweet BY THAT LAKE, WHOSE GLOOMY SHORE.† AIR.-The Brown Irish Girl. I. By that Lake, whose gloomy shore * I have here made a feeble effort to imitate that exquisite inscription of Shenstone's, "Heu! quanto minus est cum reliquis versari quam tui meminisse !” This Ballad is founded upon one of the many stories related of St. Kevin, whose bed in the rock is to be seen at Glendalough, a most gloomy and romantic spot in the County of Wicklow. There are many other curious traditions concerning this Lake, which may be found in Giraldus, Colgan, etc. Where the cliff hangs high and steep, Young Saint KEVIN stole to sleep. "Here at least," he calmly said, "Woman ne'er shall find my bed." Ah! the good saint little knew II. 'Twas from KATHLEEN's eyes he flewEyes of most unholy blue! She had loved him well and long, Still he heard her light foot nigh; Still her eyes before him burn'd. III. On the bold cliff's bosom cast, |