Sweeter 'tis to gaze upon My Nora's lid that seldom rises; In many eyes, But Love in yours, my Nora Creina. 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. Is loveliness The dress you wear, my Nora Creina. Lesbia hath a wit refin'd, But, when its points are gleaming round us, Who can tell if they 're design'd To dazzle merely, or to wound us? In safer slumber Love reposes— Hath no such light, As warms your eyes, my Nora Creina AT THE MID HOUR OF Night. At the mid hour of night, when stars are weeping, I fly Then I sing the wild song 'twas once such pleasure to hear! THE YOUNG MAY MOON. The young May moon is beaming, love, Through Morna's grove, When the drowsy world is dreaming, love! And the best of all ways To lengthen our days, Is to steal a few hours from the night, my dear! Now all the world is sleeping, love, But the Sage, his star-watch keeping, love, And I, whose star, More glorious far, Is the eye from that casement peeping, love, Then awake!-till rise of sun, my dear, The Sage's glass we'll shun, my dear, Or, in watching the flight Of bodies of light, He might happen to take thee for one, my dear. THE TIME I'VE LOST IN WOOING. The time I've lost in wooing, In woman's eyes, Has been my heart's undoing. Were woman's looks, And folly's all they've taught me. Her smile when Beauty granted, Oft meet in glen that's haunted. Was turned away O! winds could not outrun me. And are those follies going? And is my proud heart growing Too cold or wise For brilliant eyes Again to set it glowing? No, vain, alas! th' endeavour From bonds so sweet to sever; Against a glance Is now as weak as ever. DEAR HARP OF MY COUNTRY. Dear Harp of my Country! in darkness I found thee, Have throbb'd at our lay, 'tis thy glory alone; ECHO. How sweet the answer Echo makes To music at night, When, roused by lute or horn, she wakes, Yet Love hath echoes truer far, Than e'er beneath the moonlight's star, The songs repeat. 'Tis when the sigh, in youth sincere, The sigh that's breath'd for one to hear, Is by that one, that only dear, Breathed back again! OFT IN THE STILLY NIGHT. [From National Airs.] Oft, in the stilly night, Ere Slumber's chain has bound me, Fond Memory brings the light Of other days around me; The smiles, the tears, Of boyhood's years, The words of love then spoken; The eyes that shone, Now dimm'd and gone, The cheerful hearts now broken! Thus, in the stily night, Ere Slumber's chain has bound mc, Sad Memory brings the light Of other days around me. When I remember all The friends, so link'd together, I've seen around me fall, Like leaves in wintry weather; I feel like one Who treads alone Some banquet-hall deserted, Whose lights are fled, Whose garlands dead, And all but he departed! Thus, in the stilly night, Ere Slumber's chain has bound me, Sad Memory brings the light Of other days around me. |