With thee, my bark, I'll swiftly go,
Athwart the foaming brine;

Nor heed what land thou bear'st me to,
So not again to mine.

Welcome, welcome, ye dark-blue waves,
And, when ye fail my sight,
Welcome ye deserts and ye caves,-
My native land, good night!

Huntsman's Song and Chorus.

Oh! what can compare to the huntsman's bold pleasure!

For whom is the goblet so rich and so free? To rise from the grass at the horn's cheering measure, And follow the stag thro' the forest and lea. Oh! these are enjoyments that lighten and cheer us, Give strength to the frame, and delight to the soul: When rocks with their echoes, and forests are near us, More free sounds the pledge from the full-flowing

bowl.

Yo ho! tral, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la.

When rocks with their echoes, and forests are

near us,

More free sounds the pledge from the full-flowing bowl. Yo ho! tral, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la.

Diana at night shines brilliantly o'er us,

And aids us with coolness and shadows by day, To chase the grim wolf from his coverts before us, And bring the wild boar in his fury to bay. Oh! these are enjoyments that lighten and cheer us, Give strength to the frame, and delight to the soul: When rocks with their echoes, and forests are near us, More free sounds the pledge from the full-flowing

bowl.

Yo ho! tral, la, &c,

I'd mourn the Hopes that leave me

AIR-"The Rose Tree,"

I'd mourn the hopes that leave me,
If thy smiles had left me too :
I'd weep when friends deceive me,
Hadst thou been like them untrue.
But while I've thee before me,

With heart so warm, and eyes so bright,
No clouds can linger o'er me,

That smile turns them all to light.

"Tis not in fate to harm me,

While fate leaves thy love to me;
"Tis not in joy to charm me,

Unless joy be shar'd with thee.
One minute's dream about thee
Were worth a long and endless year

Of waking bliss without thee,
My own love, my only dear!

And though the hope be gone, love,
That long sparkled o'er our way,
Oh! we shall journey on, love,
More safely without its ray.
Far better lights shall win me,
Along the path I've yet to roam,

The mind that burns within me,

And pure smiles from thee at home.

Thus, when the lamp that lighted

The traveler at first goes out,

He feels awhile benighted,

And looks around in fear and doubt;
But soon the prospect clearing,

By cloudless star-light on he treads,

And thinks no lamp so cheering
As that light which heaven sheds!

G

The Pilot.

Oh, Pilot! 'tis a fearful night,

There's danger on the deep,

I'll come and pace the deck with thee,
I do not dare to sleep.

Go down! the sailor cried, go down,

This is no place for thee;
Fear not! but trust in Providence,
Wherever thou may'st be.

Ah! pilot, dangers often met,
We all are apt to slight,

And thou hast known these raging waves,
But to subdue their might.
It is not apathy, he cried,

That gives this strength to me:
Fear not! but trust in Providence,
Wherever thou may'st be.

On such a night the sea engulph'd
My Father's lifeless form;
My only brother's boat went down
In just so wild a storm;

And such, perhaps, may by my fate,-
But still I say to thee,

Fear not! but trust in Providence,
Wherever thou may'st be.

Marian Ramsay,

As sung by Mrs. KNIGHT.

I am Marian Ramsay, from Scotland I come-
All adown the green vale, where the violets are

springing,

And much I should grieve from dear Scotland to part, But I'm come to the south, sir, to get a sweetheart, With my fal, la, la, la, while the birds are a singing.

They say, that my relation is a mighty odd man,
All away from the dale where the violets are spring-

ing.

'Tis you, sir, I'm sure, for the truth to reveal,
As we say in the north, you're a comical chiel.
With my fal, la, &c.

So get me a sweetheart, and bid me good bye,
All away to the dale where the violets are springing
If the bonnie lad's willing, I'm now in my prime,
And sure 'tis a pity to lose any time.

With my fal, la, &c.

Away, my bounding Steed, away!
Away, my bounding steed, away,

I ride for princely halls;

Ay, paw the ground and proudly neigh,
The tourney trumpet calls.

Nay spur and speed, thou gallant knight,

Or lose the meed of fame;
Vouch in the lists thy lady's right,
And conquer in her name.

The challenge breath'd, I cast my glove;
All rivals thus I dare;

In arms I'll prove my lady-love
The fairest of the fair.

Now poise the temper'd lance on high-
It shivers on my shield-
Then forth two flashing rapiers fly,

And skill decides the field.

The joust is done, the prize is won,

And merry is the victor's eye;.

Pass wine-cups round, while clarions sound
The joys of love and chivalry.

The Happy Swiss Boy,

Come over the mountains, my bonny Swiss boy,
And haste to thy labor away.

Come over, &c.

And haste, &c.,

The sun now shows his rosy beams,

The flocks are hasting to the streams,

Come over, &c.

And haste, &c.

You will find me, you'll find me a happy Swiss boy, As I trip o'er the hills, far away,

You will find, &c.

As I trip, &c.

And while I watch my flocks and herds,
And listen to the warbling birds,

You will find, &c.

As I trip, &c.

A Soldier's Gratitude,

Whate'er my fate, where'er I roam,
By sorrow still oppress'd,
I'll ne'er forget the peaceful home
That gave the wanderer rest.
Then ever rove life's sunny banks,
By sweetest flow'rets strew'd;
Still may you claim a soldier's thanks,
A soldier's gratitude.

The tender sigh, the balmy tear,
That meek-eyed pity gave,
My last expiring hour shall cheer,
And bless the wanderer's grave.

Then ever rove, &c.