We'll wing the hours with soft delight, Good night, good night! and is it so? &c. "Good night!" you'll echo with a sigh, And I will ask one moment more, And then, my love! my soul! Good night! FRIEND OF MY SOUL. FRIEND of my Soul! this Goblet sip, Like her delusive beam, Come, twine the wreath, thy brows to shade. The heart can bloom no more! NOW LET THE WARRIOR. Now let the Warrior plume his steed, And wave his sword afar, For the men of the East this day shall bleed, And the sun shall blush with war. Victory sits on the Christian's helm, To guide her holy hand; The Knights of the Cross this day shall whelm O blest who in the battle dies! For men of the East this day shall bleed, WHEN TIME WHO STEALS OUR YEARS AWAY. WHEN time who steals our years away, Shall steal our pleasures too, The memory of the past will stay, And half our joys renew. Then, Cloe, when thy beauty's flower Remembrance will recall the hour When thou alone wert fair. Then talk no more of future gloom, For hope shall brighten days to come, Come, Cloe, fill the genial bowl, For hope shall brighten days to come. But mark, at thought of future years, They mingle with my bowl! How like this bowl of wine, my fair, Though tears may sometimes mingle their, The draught will still be sweet! Then fill the bowl, away with gloom, Our joys shall always last, For hope will brighten days to come, And memory gild the past! CEASE, O CEASE TO TEMPT. CEASE, oh! to love, cease to tempt my tender le It never, never can so wild a flame approve: All its joys, and pains, to others I resign, But be the vacant heart, the careless bosom mine. Then cease, oh! cease to tempt my tender heart to love, It never can so wild a flame approve. Say, oh! say no more that lovers' pains are sweet! I never, never can believe the fond deceit. I love to wander free; So, keep thou Cupid's dart, And leave his wings for me. "TWAS A NEW FEELING. 'Twas a new feeling, something more Than we had dar'd to own before, Which then we hid not. We saw it in each other's eye, And wish'd in ev'ry half breath'd sigh, My hand met hers, with trembling touch, 'Twas the first time I dar'd so much, And yet she chid not, But seem'd to say with kindling brow, "Oh! do you doubt I love you now?" Sweet girl! I did not. THE WREATH YOU WOVE. The wreath you wove, the wreath you wove, Is fair, but oh! how fair, If pity's hand had stol'n from love One leaf to mingle there. If ev'ry rose with gold were tied, One faded leaf, where love had sigh'd, The wreath you wove, the wreath you wove, Our emblem well may be, Its bloom is yours, but hopeless love OH! WHY SHOULD THE GIRL OF MY SOUL BE IN TEARS. OH! why should the girl of my soul be in tears, At meeting of rapture like this, When the gloom of the past, and the sorrows of years, Have been paid by a moment of bliss? Are they shed for that moment of blissful delight, Which dwells on her memory yet? Do they flow, like the dews of the love breathing night, From the warmth of the sun that has set? |