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All that's bright must fade,

The brightest still the fleetest ; All that's sweet was made

But to be lost when sweetest !


Who would seek or prize

Delights that end in aching? Who would trust to ties

That every hour are breaking ? Better far to be

In utter darkness lying, Than be bless'd with light and see

That light for ever flying. All that's bright must fade,

The brightest still the fleetest ; All that's sweet was made

But to be lost when sweetest!


Hungarian Air.

1. So warmly we met and so fondly we parted,

That which was the sweeter even I could not tellThat first look of welcome her sunny eyes darted,

Or that tear of passion which bless'd our farewell. To meet was a heaven, and to part thus another,

Our joy and our sorrow seem'd rivals in bliss ; Oh! Cupid's two eyes are not liker each other

In smiles and in tears, than that moment to this.

II. The first was like day-break-new, sudden, delicious,

The dawn of a pleasure scarce kindled up yetThe last was that farewell of daylight, more precious,

More glowing and deep, as 'tis nearer its set. Our meeting, though happy, was tinged by a sorrow

To think that such happiness could not remain ; While our parting, though sad, gave a hope that to


Would bring back the bless'd hour of meeting again.


AIR.-The Bells of St. Petersburgh.


Those evening bells! those evening bells !
How many a tale their music tells,
Of youth, and home, and that sweet time,
When last I heard their soothing chime !

Those joyous hours are past away!
And many a heart, that then was gay,
Within the tomb now darkly dwells,
And hears no more those evening bells!

And so 'twill be when I am gone;
That tuneful peal will still ring on,
While other bards shall walk these dells,
And sing your praise, sweet evening bells !


Portuguese Air.


* Should those fond hopes e'er forsake thee,

Which now so sweetly thy heart employ; Should the cold world come to wake thee

From all thy visions of youth and joy; Should the gay friends, for whom thou wouldst banish

Him who once thought thy young heart his own, All, like spring birds, falsely vanish,

And leave thy winter unheeded and lone ;

Oh! 'tis then he thou hast slighted

Would come to cheer thee, when all seem'd o'er ; Then the truant, lost and blighted,

Would to his bosom be taken once more. Like that dear bird we both can remember,

Who left us wbile summer shone round, But, when chill'd by bleak December,

Upon our threshold a welcome still found.


* The metre of the words is here necessarily sacrificed to the air.


Italian Air.


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Reason, FOLLY, and Beauty, they say,
Went on a party of pleasure one day:

Folly play'd

Around the maid,
The bell of his cap rung merrily out;

While REASON took

To his sermon-bookOh! which was the pleasanter no one need doubt.


BEAUTY, who likes to be thought very sage,
Turn’d for a moment to Reason's dull page,

Till FOLLY said,

“ Look here, sweet maid !” The sight of his cap brought her back to herself ;

While REASON read

His leaves of lead,
With no one to mind him, poor sensible elf !

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