WREATH THE BOWL. AIR-Noran Kitsa. WREATH the bowl With flow'rs of soul, The brightest Wit can find us; Tow'rds heav'n to-night And leave dull earth behind us! Should Love amid The wreaths be hid That Joy th' enchanter brings us, No danger fear, While wine is near, We'll drown him if he stings us. Then, wreath the bowl With flow'rs of soul, The brightest Wit can find us; Tow'rds heav'n to night, And leave dull earth behind us! 'Twas nectar fed Of old, 'tis said, Their Junos, Joves, Apollos, And man may brew His nectar too, The rich receipt's as follows: Take wine like this, Let looks of bliss Around it well be blended, Then bring Wit's beam To warm the stream, And there's your nectar, splendid! So, wreath the bowl, &c. Fill up with sands unsightly, When wine he knew Runs brisker through And sparkles far more brightly. Oh, lend it us, And, smiling thus, The glass in two we'd sever, And fill both ends for ever! Then, wreath the bowl, &c. WHENE'ER I SEE THOSE SMILING EYES. AIR-Father Quinn. WHENE'ER I see those smiling eyes, To dim a heav'n so purely bright- For Time will come with all his blights, IF THOU'LT BE MINE. AIR-The Winnowing Sheet. If thou❜lt be mine, the treasures of air, Or in Hope's sweet music sounds most sweet Bright flow'rs shall bloom where'er we rove, In our eyes, if thou wilt be mine, love! And thoughts, whose source is hidden and high, Ever green, if thou wilt be mine, love! |