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And yet, since last thy chord resounded,

An hour of peace and triumph came, And many an ardent bosom bounded

With hopes—that now are turn’d to shame. Yet even then, while Peace was singing

Her halcyon song o'er land and sea, Though joy and hope to others bringing,

She only brought new tears to thee.

Then, who can ask for notes of pleasure,

My drooping Harp! from chords like thine ? Alas, the lark's gay morning measure

As ill would suit the swan's decline !
Or how shall I, who love, who bless thee,

Invoke thy breath for Freedom's strains, When even the wreaths, in which I dress thee,

Are sadly mix’d-half flowers, half chains !

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But, come,-if yet thy frame can borrow

One breath of joy-oh, breathe for me,
And show the world, in chains and sorrow,

How sweet thy music still can be ;

How gaily, even 'mid gloom surrounding,

Thou yet canst wake at pleasure's thrillLike Memnon's broken image, sounding,

’Mid desolation, tuneful still? *


AIR.The Girl I left behind me.


As slow our ship her foamy track

Against the wind was cleaving,
Her trembling pennant still look'd back

To that dear isle 'twas leaving.
So loath we part from all we love,

From all the links that bind us;
So turn our hearts, where'er we rove,

To those we've left behind us!

When, round the bowl, of vanish'd

years We talk, with joyous seeming,

* Dimidio magicæ resonant ubi Memnone chordæ, Atque vetus Thebe centum jacet obruta portis.


With smiles, that might as well be tears,

So faint, so sad their beaming ;
While memory brings us back again

Each early tie that twined us,
Oh, sweet's the cup that circles then

To those we've left behind us !


And when, in other climes, we meet

Some isle or vale enchanting, Where all looks flowery, wild, and sweet,

And nought but love is wanting ; We think how great had been our bliss,

If Heaven had but assign'd us To live and die in scenes like this

With some we've left behind us !

As travellers oft look back, at eve,

When eastward darkly going,
To gaze upon that light they leave

Still faint behind them glowing, So, when the close of pleasure's day

To gloom hath near consign'd us, We turn to catch one fading ray

Of joy that's left behind us.


AIR. -The little Harvest Rose.

I. In the morning of life, when its cares are unknown,

And its pleasures in all their new lustre begin, When we live in a bright-beaming world of our own,

And the light that surrounds us is all from within ; Oh, it is not, believe me, in that happy time

We can love, as in hours of less transport we may:-Of our smiles, of our hopes, 'tis the gay sunny prime,

But affection is warmest when these fade away.

When we see the first glory of youth pass us by,

Like a leaf on the stream that will never return; When our cup, which had sparkled with pleasure so

high, First tastes of the other, the dark-flowing urn ; Then, then is the moment affection can sway

With a depth and a tenderness joy never knew ; Love nursed among Pleasures is faithless as they,

But the Love born of Sorrow, like Sorrow, is true!


AIR.-Castle Tirowen.


REMEMBER thee! yes, while there's life in this heart,
It shall never forget thee, all lorn as thou art;
More dear in thy sorrow, thy gloom, and thy showers,
Than the rest of the world in their sunniest hours.

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II. Wert thou all that I wish thee,-great, glorious, and

freeFirst flower of the earth and first gem of the sea,– I might hail thee with prouder, with happier brow, But, oh! could I love thee more deeply than now ?

III. No, thy chains as they rankle, thy blood as it runs, But make thee more painfully dear to thy sonsWhose, hearts like the young of the desert-bird's nest, Drink love in each life-drop that flows from thy breast!

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