All that's bright must fade, The brightest still the fleetest ; All that's sweet was made But to be lost when sweetest ! II. 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! SO WARMLY WE MET. 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 morrow Would bring back the bless'd hour of meeting again. THOSE EVENING BELLS. AIR.-The Bells of St. Petersburgh. I. Those evening bells! those evening bells ! II. III. SHOULD THOSE FOND HOPES. Portuguese Air. 1. * 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 ; II. 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. a * The metre of the words is here necessarily sacrificed to the air. REASON, FOLLY, AND BEAUTY. Italian Air. I. Reason, FOLLY, and Beauty, they say, Folly play'd Around the maid, While REASON took To his sermon-bookOh! which was the pleasanter no one need doubt. II. BEAUTY, who likes to be thought very sage, Till FOLLY said, “ Look here, sweet maid !” The sight of his cap brought her back to herself ; While REASON read His leaves of lead, |