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At length, a sail appears in sight,

And tow'rd the maiden moves ; 'Tis Wealth that comes, and gay and bright His golden bark reflects the light

But, ah! it is not Love's!

Another sail—'twas Friendship show'd

Her night-lamp o'er the sea;
And calm the light that lamp bestow'd,
But Love had lights that warmer glow'd,

And where, alas! was he?

Now fast around the sea and shore

Night threw her darkling chain? The sunny sails were seen no more, Hope's morning dreams of bliss were o'er

Love never came again!

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There comes a time, a dreary time,

To him whose heart hath flown
O’er all the fields of youth's sweet prime,

And made each flow'r its own.
'Tis when his soul must first renounce

Those dreams so bright so fondOh! then's the hour to die at once,

For life has naught beyond.
-Alas! that time, that dreary time,

To him whose heart hath flown
O’er all the fields of youth's sweet prime,

And made each flow'r its own!

When sets the sun on Afric's shore,

That instant all is night,
And so should life at once be o'er,

When Love withdraws his light.

Nor, like our northern day gleam on

Through twilight's dim delay,
The cold remains of lustre gone,

Of fire long pass'd away.
Oh! yes, that time, that dreary time,

To him whose heart hath flown
O'er all the fields of youth's sweet prime, ,

And made each flow'r its own. '

MY HARP HAS ONE UNCHANGING THEME,

Air-Swedish

My harp has one unchanging theme,

One strain that still comes o'er Its languid chord, as 'twere a dream

Of Joy that's now no more. In vain I try with livelier air

To wake the breathing string, That voice of other times is there,

And saddens all I sing.

Breathe on, breathe on, thou languid strain,

Henceforth be all my own,
Though thou art oft so full of pain,

Few hearts can bear thy tone.
Yet oft thou’rt sweet, as if the sigh,

The breath that Pleasure's wings
Gave out, when last they wanton'd by,"

Were still upon thy strings...

OH! NO, NOT E’EN WHEN FIRST WE LOVED.

AIR-Cashmerian.

Oh! no, not e’en when first we loved,

Wert thou as dear as now thou art; Thy beauty then my senses moved,

But now thy virtues bind my heartWhat was put Passion's sigh before,

Has since been turn'd to Reason's vow, And though I then might love thee more,

Trust me I love thee better now.

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Although my heart, in earlier youth,

Might kindle with more wild desire, Believe me, it has gain'd in truth

Much more than it has lost in fire.. The flame pow warms my inmost core,

That then but sparkled o’er my, brow; And though I seem’d,to love thee more,

Yet, oh! I love thee better now.

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