But evening come, he sought his home, But soon, alas! this scene of bliss To bold St. Gothard's height he rush'd The evening come, he sought not home, Grown wild with dread, now seeks him dead, That bids farewell To dulce, dulce domum. SAVOURNEEN DEELISH. Oh! the moments were sad when my love and I parted, Savourneen deelish ielen oge, I kiss'd off the tear, and was nigh broken-hearted, Savourneen, &c. Savourneen, &c. When the word of command set our troops into motion, Savourneen, &c. I buckled on my knapsack, to cross the wide ocean, Savourneen, &c. Brisk were our troops, all roaring like thunder, Pleased with the voyage, impatient for plunder, My bosom with grief was almost rent asunder, Savourneen, &c. Long I fought for my country, far, far from my true love, Savourneen, &c. All my pay and my plunder I hoarded for you, love, WHEN VULCAN FORGED THE BOLTS OF JOVE. [C. DEBDIN.] When Vulcan forged the bolts of Jove, But finding in the boundless deep And when engaged in future wars, Shall launch her fires, from every hand, On every foe to Britain's land, TO-MORROW. In the downhill of life, when I find I'm declining, Than a snug elbow chair will afford for reclining, With an ambling pad pony to pace o'er the lawn, And, blithe as the lark, that each day hails the dawn, Look forward with hope for to-morrow. With a porch at my door, both for shelter and shade, too, As the sunshine or rain may prevail; And a small spot of ground for the use of the spade, too; With a barn for the use of my flail: A cow for my dairy, a dog for my game, And a purse, when a friend wants to borrow: I'll envy no nabob his riches or fame, Or what honours may 'wait him to-morrow. From the bleak northern blast may my cot be completely Secured by a neighbouring hill; And at night may repose steal upon me more sweetly, And while peace and plenty I find at my board, And when I, at last, must throw off this frail covering, But my face in the glass I'll serenely survey, And, with smiles, count each wrinkle and furrow; As this old worn-out stuff, which is threadbare to-day, May become everlasting to-morrow. HERE WE MEET TOO SOON TO PART. JOHN CLARE.] [Italian Air. Here we meet too soon to part, Here I vow to love thee well, Here we meet too soon, &c. Here the rose that decks thy door, The birds at rest above thee. Here we meet too soon, &c. THE EXILE OF ERIN. [T. CAMPBELL.] There came to the beach a poor exile of Erin; But the day-star attracted his eye's sad devotion, O, sad is my fate, said the heart-broken stranger, A home and a country remain not for me! Or cover my harp with the wild-woven flowers, d strike to the numbers of Erin go bragh. Oh, Erin, my country! though sad and forsaken, And sigh for the friends that can meet me no more; And thou, cruel Fate! wilt thou never replace me In a mansion of peace, where no perils can chase me? Ah! never again shall my brothers embrace me! They died to defend me, or live to deplore. Where now is my cabin-door, fast by the wild wood? Where is the mother that look'd on my childhood? But yet, all its fond recollections suppressing, Pocock.] HARRY BLUFF. [Music by WELCH, When a boy, Harry Bluff, left his friends and his home, |