FAREWELL.

FAREWELL!-but whenever you welcome the

hour

That awakens the night-song of mirth in your bower,
Then think of the friend who once welcom'd it too,
And forgot his own griefs to be happy with you.
His griefs may return, not a hope may remain
Of the few that have brighten'd his pathway of pain,
But he ne'er will forget the short vision that threw
Its enchantments around him while lingering with

you.

And still on that evening, when pleasure fills up
To the highest top sparkle each heart and each cup,
Where'er my path lies, be it gloomy or bright,
My soul, happy friends, shall be with you that night;
Shall join in your revels, your sports, and your wiles,
And return to me beaming all o'er with your smiles ;
Too blest, if it tells me, that, 'mid the gay cheer,
Some kind voice had murmur'd, "I wish he were
here!"

Let Fate do her worst, there are relics of joy, Bright dreams of the past, which she cannot destroy ; And which come in the night-time of sorrow and care, And bring back the features that joy us'd to wear. Long, long be my heart with such memories fill'd! Like the vase, in which roses have once been distill'd, You may break, you may shatter the vase, if you will, But the scent of the roses will hang round it still.

OH DOUBT ME NOT.

H doubt me not!

OH

the season

Is o'er, when Folly made me rove,
And now the vestal, Reason,

Shall watch the fire awak'd by Love.
Although this heart was early blown,
And fairest hands disturb'd the tree,
They only shook some blossoms down,
Its fruit has all been kept for thee.
Then doubt me not the season

Is o'er, when Folly made me rove;
And now the vestal, Reason,

Shall watch the fire awak'd by love.

And though my lute no longer

May sing of Passion's ardent spell,
Yet, trust me, all the stronger

I feel the bliss I do not tell.
The bee through many a garden roves,
And hums his lay of courtship o'er,
But when he finds the flower he loves,
He settles there, and hums no more.
Then doubt me not the season
Is o'er, when Folly kept me free;
And now the vestal, Reason,

Shall guard the flame awak'd by thee.

I

YOU REMEMBER ELLEN.*

You remember Ellen, our hamlet's pride,
How meekly she bless'd her humble lot
When the stranger, William, had made her his bride,
And love was the light of their lowly cot?
Together they toil'd through winds and rains,
Till William at length in sadness said,
"We must seek our fortune on other plains ;".
Then, sighing, she left her lowly shed.

They roam'd a long and a weary way,
Nor much was the maiden's heart at ease,
When now, at close of one stormy day,

They see a proud castle among the trees.
To-night," said the youth, "we'll shelter there;
"The wind blows cold, the hour is late ;"
So he blew the horn with a chieftain's air,
And the Porter bow'd as he pass'd the gate.

"Now welcome, Lady !" exclaimed the youth,

"This castle is thine, and these dark woods all!" She believ'd him craz'd, but his words were truth, For Ellen is Lady of Rosna Hall.

And dearly the Lord of Rosna loves

What William the stranger woo'd and wed ; And the light of bliss, in these lordly groves, Shines pure as it did in the lowly shed.

* This ballad was suggested by a well-known and interesting story told of a certain noble family in England.

I'D MOURN THE HOPES.

עין

'D mourn the hopes that leave me,
If thy smiles had left me too ;
I'd weep when friends deceive me,
If thou wert, like them, untrue.
But while I've thee before me,

With heart so warm and eyes so bright, No clouds can linger o'er me,

That smile turns them all to light.

"Tis not in Fate to harm me,

While Fate leaves thy love to me;
"Tis not in Joy to charm me,
Unless Joy be shar'd with thee.
One minute's dream about thee
Were worth a long, an endless year
Of waking bliss without thee,
My own love, my only dear!

And though the hope be gone, love,
That long sparkled o'er our way,
O, we shall journey on, love,
More safely, without its ray.
Far better lights shall win me

Along the path I've yet to roam :—

The mind that burns within me,

And pure smiles from thee at home.

Thus, when the lamp that lighted
The traveller at first goes out,
He feels awhile benighted,

And looks round in fear and doubt
But soon, the prospect clearing,
By cloudless starlight on he treads,
And thinks no lamp so cheering
As that light which Heaven sheds!

COME O'ER THE SEA.

COME o'er the sea,
Maiden, with me,

Mine through sunshine, storm and snows ;
Seasons may roll,

But the true soul

Burns the same, where'er it goes.

Let Fate frown on, so we love and part not; 'Tis life where thou art, 'tis death where thou art not. Then come o'er the sea,

Maiden, with me,

Come wherever the wild wind blows;

Seasons may roll,

But the true soul

Burns the same, where'er it goes.

Was not the sea

Made for the Free,

Land for courts and chains alone?

Here we are slaves,

But on the waves

Love and Liberty 's all our own.