Would that breast, by thee glanced over,
Every inmost thought might show,
Then thou wouldst at length discover
"Twas not well to spurn it so.
But 'tis done, all words are idle,
Words from me are vainer still;
But the thoughts we cannot bridle
Force their way against the will.

Fare-thee-well, thus disunited,
Torn from every nearer tie,
Sear'd in heart, and lone, and blighted,
More than this, I scarce can die.

Ere around the Huge Oak.

Ere around the huge oak, that o'ershadows yon mill,
The fond ivy had dared to entwine;

Ere the church was a ruin that nods on the hill,
Or a rook built his nest on the pine;

Could I trace back the time, of a far distant date,
Since my forefathers toil'd in this field;

And the farm I now hold on your honor's estate,
Is the same which my grandfather till'd.

He, dying, bequeath'd to his son a good name,
Which, unsullied, descended to me;

For my child I've preserved it, unblemish'd with shame,

And it still from a spot shall go free.

Dinna Forget.

Dinna forget, laddie! dinna forget!

Ne'er make me rue that we ever have met !

Wide though we sever, parted for ever,

Willie, when far awa dinna forget!

We part, and it may be, we meet never mair ;
Yet my heart, as in hope, will be true in despair;
And the sigh of remembrance, the tear of regret,
For thee will be frequent, then dinna forget!

When the star o' the gloamin' is beaming above,
Think how oft it hath lighted the tryst of our love,
Oh! deem it an angel's ee heaven hath set,

To watch thee, to warn thee, sae dinna forget!

.

Then wake from thy Slumbers.

The heath is all lonely and drear, love,
There's nobody stirring or near, love;

Then awake from thy slumbers and hear, love,
My last farewell to thee:

The stars are deserting the skies, love,

The night-owl is ceasing his cries.

Then hasten to bless these fond eyes, love,

And open thy lattice to me.

The night is passing away, love,

And losing its gloom in the day, love,
Then lend of thine eyes but one ray, love,
E'er I go afar o'er the sea.

Then hasten, &c.

Kathleen O'Moore.

My love, still I think that I see her once more,
But alas! she has left me her loss to deplore,
My own little Kathleen, my poor lost Kathleen,
My Kathleen O'Moore.

Her hair glossy black, her eyes were dark blue,
Her color still changing, her smiles ever new;
So pretty was Kathleen, my sweet little Kathleen,
My Kathleen O'Moore.

She milked the dun cow that ne'er offered to stir,
Though wicked it was, it was gentle to her;
So kind was my Kathleen, my poor little Kathleen,
My Kathleen O'Moore.

She sat by the door one cold afternoon,

To hear the wind blow, and look at the moon;
So pensive was Kathleen, my poor little Kathleen,

My Kathleen O'Moore.

O cold was the night breeze that sigh'd round her

bower,

It chill'd my poor Kathleen, she drooped from that

hour,

And I lost my poor Kathleen, my dear little Kathleen, My Kathleen O'Moore.

The bird of all birds that I love the best,

Is the robin that in the church-yard builds its nest, For he seems to watch Kathleen, hops lightly on

Kathleen,

My Kathleen O'Moore.

'Twas You, Sir.-A Glee.

"Twas you, sir, 'twas you, sir,
I tell you nothing new, sir,
'Twas you that kiss'd the pretty girl,
"Twas you, sir, you;

"Tis true, sir, 'tis true, sir,

You look so very blue, sir,

I'm sure you kiss'd the pretty girl,

"Tis true, sir, true;

Oh, sir, no, sir,

How can you wrong me so, sir?

I did not kiss the pretty girl-
But I know who.

Billy, let's thank Providence that you and I are Sailors.

One night came on a hurricane, the sea was mountains rolling,

When Barney Buntline turn'd his quid, and said to Billy Bowling,

A strong sow-wester's blowing, Billy, can't you hear it roar now?

Lord help 'em, how I pities all unhappy folks on shore now!

Fool-hardy chaps as live in towns, what dangers they are all in!

And now they're quaking in their beds for fear the roof should fall in.

Poor creatures how they envies us, and wishes, I've a notion,

For our good luck, in such a storm, to be upon the

ocean.

Then as to them kept out all day on business from their houses,

And, late at night, are walking home to cheer their babes and spouses,

While you and I upon the deck are comfortably lying,

My eyes, what tiles and chimney-pots about their heads are flying!

And often have we seamen heard how men are killed or undone,

By overturns in carriages, and thieves, and fires, in London;

We've heard what risks all landsmen run, from noblemen to tailors.

So, Billy, let's thank Providence that you and I are sailors.

The Mariner's Bride.'

Hark! o'er the wave, the north blast is howling,
Look, from the skies, the tempest is scowling:
Down on the beach where wild waves are rushing,
Is one, from whose eye the cold tear is gushing:
She look'd on the shore, there, helpless and shattered,
The wreck, like her hopes, to the wild winds are
scatter'd.

There stood the lone one in comfortless sorrow,
"Till sunlight again burst forth on the morrow;
The tempest was bush'd, no wind cross'd the ocean;
But morn could not calm her bosom's emotion,
She weeps for her love, o'er the billows a ranger,
On night such as this of darkness and danger.

Well may she weep, poor mariner's bride,
Well may she weep, poor mariner's bride.

Fair Rose has Charms alone for Me,
They say my heart is not sincere,
And fickle as the moon, my mind,
Perhaps to some I may appear

Inconstant as the sportive wind;
But oh! when Rosa deigns to smile,
No other eye has charms for me.
My wav'ring thoughts her looks beguile,
To rove, I feel no longer free!

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no;
Fair Rose has charms alone for me.

I do not sigh in shady groves,

I ramble not by purling streams;

But love to be where beauty moves,
And where the star of pleasure gleams.
But oh! when Rosa deigns, &c.