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A sail in sight appears,

We hail her with three cheers:
Now we sail with the gale
From the Bay of Biscay, O!

GO, LOVELY ROSE!

E. WALLER.]

Go, lovely rose!

[Music by H. PHILLIPS.

Tell her that wastes her time and me,
That now she knows,

When I resemble her to thee,

How sweet and fair she seems to le.

Tell her that's young,
And shuns to have her graces spiel,
That hadst thou sprung

In deserts where no men abide,
Thou must have uncommended died.

Small is the worth
Of beauty from the light retired:
Bid her come forth,

Suffer herself to be desired,

And not blush so to be admired.

Then die! that she

The common fate of all things rare
May read in thee,-

How small a part of time they share
That are so wondrous sweet and fair.

ADDITIONAL VERSE.

[By HENRY KIRKE WHITE.]

Yet, though thou fade,

From thy dead leaves let fragrance rise;
And teach the maid

That goodness Time's rude hand defies,―
That virtue lives when beauty dies.

J. O'KEEFE.]

THE WOLF.

[Music by SHIELD.

At the peaceful midnight hour,
Every sense and every power,
Fetter'd lies in downy sleep-
Then our careful watch we keep,
While the wolf in nightly prowl,
Bays the moon with hideous howl;
Gates are barr'd, a vain resistance-
Females shriek, but no assistance.
Silence, silence, or you meet your fate!
Your keys, your jewels, cash, and plate;
Locks, bolts, and bars, they fly asunder,
Then to rifle, rob, and plunder.

H. DRAYTON.]

YES, 'TIS A SPELL.

[Music by J. DUGGAN.

Yes, 'tis a spell hath o'er me cast
Its all-absorbing power,

And thus, for ever, may it last,
E'en to my latest hour;
Let those who cannot love forego
All hopes of future bliss;
In Paradise they ne'er can know
More happiness than this.

Her bright eyes now before me shine,
And, laughing, seem to say—
Thou lovest me-my heart is thine-
Be happy while we may.

We will be happy, nor forego
Such hope of future bliss;
In Paradise we ne'er can know
More happiness than this.

LOVING AND LIKING.

J. E. CARPENTER.]

[Music by S. GLOVER.

FIRST VOICE.

Dear Fanny, you told me one day

There a great difference was, rather striking, As great as between "yea" and "nay,' Between the words "loving" and "liking."

SECOND VOICE.

Dear sister, you can't love a rose,

You may like it, to that no objection; You may rave about lilies, for those

You've been told, you say, suit your complexion.

DUET.

Oh! loving and liking, ah me!

What a fuss does this world make about them: But think what we maidens should be,

Were we left in it lonely without them.

FIRST VOICE.

I love what I like, and I like

What I love, beyond doubt, and that dearly; So, if I the balance must strike,

Í should call them the same very clearly.

SECOND VOICE.

But loving's a different thing,

Not that I love-the weakness I spurn it;

But did I, my passion should cling

Where a heart was, at least, to return it!

FIRST VOICE.

Why, Fanny, you know that you said
You liked very well cousin Harry.

SECOND VOICE.

But loving ne'er enter'd my head;
Did I say that I should keto

20-marry?

FIRST VOICE.

Ah! Fanny, I vow and declare

My maxim you soon will be proving,
And find out before you're aware
That liking so much is but loving !

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And this is the mill-stream that ten years ago
Was so fast in its current, so pure in its flow;
Whose musical waters would ripple and shine
With the glorious dash of a miniature Rhine?
Can this be its bed? I remember it well

When it sparkled like silver through meadow and dell.
And here was the miller's house-peaceful abode !
Where the flower-twined porch drew all eyes from the
road-

Where roses and jasmines embower'd the door
That never was closed to the way-worn or poor-
Where the miller-God bless him!-oft gave us a
dance,

And led off the ball with his soul in his glance.

The mill is in ruins, no welcoming sound

In the mastiff's quick bark, and the wheels dashing round.

The house, too, forgotten, and left to decay;

And the miller long dead-all I loved pass'd away!
This play-place of childhood was graved on my heart
In paradise colours that now must depart.
The old water-mill's gone, the fair vision is fled,
And I wept o'er its wreck as I do for the dead.

AUTUMN LEAVES LIE STREW'D AROUND. [Music by J. HULLAH,

C. DICKENS.]

Autumn leaves, autumn leaves lie strew'd around me

here

Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, how sad, how cold, how drear!

How like the hopes of childhood's day,
Thick clustering on the bough;

How like those hopes in their decay,
How faded are they now!

Autumn leaves, &c.

Wither'd leaves, wither'd leaves that fly before the

gale

Wither'd leaves, wither'd leaves, ye tell a mournful tale!

Of love once true, of friends once kind,

And happy moments fled

Dispersed by every breath of wind,
Forgotten, changed, or dead.

Autumn leaves, &c.

DEAR SUMMER MORN.

C. JEFFERYS.]

[Music by S. GLOVER.

How merrily this summer morn
The wind goes singing by,

While gracefully the rustling corn
Nods to the melody.

There's mirth, there's music ev'rywhere,

Above, around, below

The very streamlet hath an air

Of gladness in its flow.

O summer morn, dear summer morn!
Thou play'st a charmer's part;

Thy ruddy glow is on my brow,
Thy sunshine in my heart.

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