Why has music power to melt? COME TAKE THE HARP. COME, take the harp--'tis vain to muse Sing to me, love!--though death were near, Thy song could make my soul forget-Nay, nay, in pity, dry that tear, All may be well, be happy yet! Let me but see that snowy arm Give me that strain of mornful touch, Sweet notes! they tell of former peace, Of all that look'd so rapturous then, Now wither'd, lost--oh! pray thee, cease, I cannot bear those sounds again! Art thou too wretched? yes, thou art; TYROLESE SONG OF LIBERTY. MERRILY every bosom boundeth, Merrily oh! merrily oh! Where the song of freedom soundeth, Merrily oh! merrily oh! Where the song of freedom soundeth, Merrily oh! merrily oh! There the warrior's arms There the maiden's charms Shine more tender: Ev'ry joy the land surroundeth, Merrily oh! merrily oh! Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily on! Merrily oh! merrily oh Wearily ev'ry bosom pineth, Wearily oh! wearily oh Where the bond of slav'ry twineth, Wearily oh' wearily oh There the warrior's dart Hath no fleetness; There the maiden's heart Hath no sweetness; Ev'ry flow'r of life declineth, Wearily, wearly, &c. Cheerily then from hill and valley, Cheerily oh! cheerily oh! Like your native fountains sally, Cheerily oh! cheerily oh! If a glorious death, Won by bravery, Sweeter be than breath Sigh'd in slavery; Round the flag of freedom rally, Cheerily oh! cheerily oh! Cheerily, cheerily, &c. THE LIGHT-HOUSE. THE scene was more beautiful far to my eye, Than if day in its pride had array'd it, The land breeze blew mild, and the azure arch'd sky Look'd pure as the Spirit that made it; he murmur rose soft as I silently gaz'd In the shadowy waves playful motion, From the dim distant hill, 'till the Light-house fire blaz'd Like a star in the midst of the ocean. No longer the joy of the sailor boy's breast, Was heard in his wildly breath'd numbers: The sea-bird had flown to her wave girdled-nest, The fisherman sunk to his slumbers; One moment I look'd from the hill's gentle slope, All hush'd was the billows' commotion, And tho't that the Light-house look'd lovely as hope, That star of life's tremulous ocean. The time is long past, and the scene is afar, In life's closing hour, when the trembling soul flies, And death stills the heart's last emotion; O then may the seraph of mercy arise, LOVE, MY MARY. 2d Voice...Love, my Mary, dwells with thee, On thy cheek his bed I see; 1st Voice...No, that cheek is pale with care, Love can find no roses there; No, no, no, no, no, no, No roses there, no, no. Duett........'Tis not on the cheek of rose, 2d Voice...Love, my Mary, ne'er can roam, While he makes that eye his home, 1st Voice...No, the eye with sorrow dim, Ne'er can be a home for him, Ne'er can be, no, no, no, A home for him, no, no. Duett........Yet 'tis not in beaming eyes In my heart his home thou'lt see, I KNEW BY THE SMOKE. I KNEW by the smoke that so gracefully curl'd Above the green elms, that a cottage was neer, And I said, "If there's peace to be found in th world, A heart that was humble might hope for i here." 'Twas noon, and on flowers that languish. around, In silence repos'd the voluptuous bee: Every leaf was at rest, and I heard not a sour But the woodpecker tapping the hollow bee tree. And "Here in this lone little wood," I e claim'd, “With a maid who was lovely to soul and eye, Who would blush when I prais'd her, and weep when I blam'd, |