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Air-Noch bonin shin doe.

They may rail at this life—from the hour 1

began it, I've found it a life full of kindness and bliss; And until they can shew me some happier planet, More social and bright, I'll content me with

this. As long as the world has such eloquent eyes,

As before me this moment enraptured I see, They may say what they will of their orbs in the

skies, But this earth is the planet for you, love, and me. In Mercury's star where each minute can bring

them New sunshine and wit from the fountain on

high, Though the nymphs may have livelier poets' to

sing them, They've none, even there, more enamour'd

than I. And, as long as this harp can be waken'd to love,

And that eye its divine inspiration shall be, They may talk as they will of their Edens above,

But this earth is the planet for you, love, and me.

In that star of the west, by whose shadowy

splendour, · At twilight so often we've roam'd through the . dew, . There are maidens, perhaps, who have bosoms

as tender And look, in their twilights?, as lovely as you. But, though they were even more bright than the

1 Tous les habitans de Mercure sont vifs.

Pluralité des Mondes. ? La Terre pourra être pour Venus l'etoile du berger et la mere des amours, comme Venus l'est pour nous.Ibid.

queen Of that isle they inhabit in heaven's blue sea, As I never these fair young celestials have seen, Why,—this earth is the planet for you, love,

and me.

As for those chilly orbs on the verge of creation, Where sunshine and smiles must be equally

rare, Did they want a supply of cold hearts for that

station, Heav'n knows, we have plenty on earth we

could spare. Oh think what a world we should have of, it here,

If the haters of peace, of affection, and glee, Were to fly up to Saturn's comfortless sphere, And leave earth to such spirits as you, love,

and me.


Air-Name unknown.

Oh, for the swords of former time!

Oh, for the men who bore them, When, arm'd for right, they stood sublime,

And tyrants crouch'd before them!
When pure yet, ere courts began

With honours to enslave bim,
The best honours worn by man
Were those which Virtue gave him.

Oh, for the swords of former time! &c.

Oh, for the kings who flourish'd then!

Oh, for the pomp that crown'd them, When hearts and hands of freeborn men

Were all the ramparts round them!

When, safe built on bosoms true,

The throne was but the centre, Round which Love a circle drew, That Treason durst not enter.

Oh, for the kings who flourish'd then! &c.

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