WHEN THE FIRST SUMMER BEE.

German Air.

I.

WHEN the first summer bee

O'er the young rose shall hover,

Then, like that gay rover,

I'll come to thee.

He to flowers, I to lips, full of sweets to the brim-
What a meeting, what a meeting for me and him!

II.

Then, to every bright tree
In the garden he'll wander,
While I, oh! much fonder,
Will stay with thee.

In search of new sweetness through thousands he'll run,
While I find the sweetness of thousands in one.

THOUGH 'TIS ALL BUT A DREAM.

French Air.

1.

THOUGH 'tis all but a dream at the best,
And still when happiest soonest o'er,
Yet, even in a dream to be bless'd

Is so sweet, that I ask for no more.
The bosom that opes with earliest hopes,
The soonest finds those hopes untrue,
As flowers that first in spring-time burst,
The earliest wither too!

Ay-'tis all but a dream, etc.

II.

By friendship we oft are deceived,
And find the love we clung to past;

Yet friendship will still be believed,
And love trusted on to the last.

The web in the leaves the spider weaves
Is like the charm Hope hangs o'er men;
Though often she sees it broke by the breeze,
She spins the bright tissue again.

Ay-'tis all but a dream, etc.

'TIS WHEN THE CUP IS SMILING.

Italian Air.
I.

"TIs when the cup is smiling before us,

And we pledge round to hearts that are true, boy, true, That the sky of this life opens o'er us,

And Heaven gives a glimpse of its blue.

Talk of Adam in Eden reclining,

We are better, far better off thus, boy, thus;
For him but two bright eyes were shining-
See what numbers are sparkling for us!

II.

When on one side the grape-juice is dancing,
And on t'other a blue eye beams, boy, beams,
'Tis enough, 'twixt the wine and the glancing,
To disturb even a saint from his dreams.
Though this life like a river is flowing,
I care not how fast it goes on, boy, on,
While the grape on its bank still is growing,
And such eyes light the waves as they run.

WHERE SHALL WE BURY OUR SHAME?
Neapolitan Air.
I.

WHERE shall we bury our shame ?

Where, in what desolate place,

Hide the last wreck of a name

Broken and stain'd by disgrace?

Death may dissever the chain,

Oppression will cease when we're gone ;

But the dishonour, the stain,
Die as we may, will live on.

II.

Was it for this we sent out
Liberty's cry from our shore?
Was it for this that her shout
Thrill'd to the world's very core?
Thus to live cowards and slaves,
Oh! ye free hearts that lie dead!

Do you not, e'en in your graves,

Shudder, as o'er you we tread?

NE'ER TALK OF WISDOM'S GLOOMY SCHOOLS.

Mahratta Air.

I.

NE'ER talk of Wisdom's gloomy schools;

Give me the sage who's able

To draw his moral thoughts and rules
From the sunshine of the table ;-
Who learns how lightly, fleetly pass
This world and all that's in it,

From the bumper that but crowns his glass,
And is gone again next minute.

II.

The diamond sleeps within the mine,
The pearl beneath the water,-

While Truth, more precious, dwells in wine,
The grape's own rosy daughter!
And none can prize her charms like him,
Oh! none like him obtain her,

Who thus can, like Leander, swim
Through sparkling floods to gain her!

HERE SLEEPS THE BARD!

Highland Air.
I.

HERE sleeps the Bard who knew so well
All the sweet windings of Apollo's shell,
Whether its music roll'd like torrents near,
Or died, like distant streamlets, on the ear!

II.

Sleep, mute Bard! unheeded now.

The storm and zephyr sweep thy lifeless brow;—
That storm, whose rush is like thy martial lay;
That breeze which, like thy love-song, dies away!

NATIONAL AIRS.

No. V.

DO NOT SAY THAT LIFE IS WANING.

Danish Air.

I.

Do not say that life is waning,

Or that Hope's sweet day is set, While I've thee and Love remaining, Light is in th' horizon yet.

II.

Do not think those charms are flying,-
Though thy roses fade and fall,

Beauty hath a grace undying,

Which in thee survives them all.

III.

Not for charms, the newest, brightest,
That on other cheeks may shine,
Would I change the least, the slightest,
That is ling'ring now o'er thine.

THE GAZELLE.

Hindoo Air.

I.

Dost thou not hear the silver bell,

Thro' yonder lime-trees ringing?

"Tis my Lady's light gazelle,

To me her love-thoughts bringing,—

All the while that silver bell

Around his dark neck ringing.

S

II.

See, in his mouth he bears a wreath
My love hath kist in tying,
Oh! what tender thoughts beneath
Those silent flow'rs are lying!
Hid within the mystic wreath,
My love hath kist in tying.
III.

Welcome, dear gazelle, to thee,
And joy to her, the fairest,
Who thus sends her soul to me
In every leaf thou bearest.
Welcome, dear gazelle, to thee,
And joy to her, the fairest.
IV.

Hail! ye living speaking flowers,
That breathe of her who bound ye,
Oh! 'twas not in fields or bowers,
'Twas on her lips she found ye.
Yes, ye blushing, speaking flowers,
"Twas on her lips she found ye.

NO,-LEAVE MY HEART TO REST.
Spanish Air.
I.

No,-leave my heart to rest, if rest it may,
When Youth and Love, and Hope have pass'd away—
Could'st thou, when summer hours are fled,

To some poor leaf that's fall'n and dead,

Bring back the hue it wore, the scent it shed? No-leave this heart to rest, if rest it may,

When youth, and Love, and Hope have pass'd away.

II.

Oh! had I met thee then, when life was bright,
Thy smile might still have fed its tranquil light.
But now thou break'st like sunny skies,
Too late to cheer the seaman's eyes,

When wreck'd and lost his bark before him lies!
No,-leave this heart to rest, if rest it may,

When Youth, and Love, and Hope have pass'd away.