Still their watchful looks they bend;
Rain and clouds ensure them sport.

Hush! hush!

But ere they get it to the shore,

He snaps the line, they're balk'd once more;
Then home they go, the tale is told,

That they have caught

Caught what?

A cold!.

O! the joys of angling; O! the joys of angling.

Mermaid's Song.

Follow, follow through the sea,

To the mermaid's melody:

Safely, freely shalt thou range,

Through things dreadful, quaint, and strange,

And through liquid walls behold

Wonders that may not be told,

Treasures too for ages lost,

Gems surpassing human cost,

Fearless, follow, follow me,

Through the treasures of the sea.

Faults of the Fair.

The faults of the fair sex are trifling and few,
And of these will I make no selection;

All, all are so gentle, so good, and so true,
They deserve man's best gift-his affection.

Alone here without them, deserted indeed
Should we feel, and be lost in dejection;
As the sun to the earth, so to man is decreed,
To be blest with dear woman's affection.

O! give me but this, not a wish have I left,
Unfulfill'd not a painful reflection;

"Tis my pray'r, that in this world I ne'er be bereft Of that blessing-dear woman's affection.

The Fairies' Song.

A TRIO.

Within this shelter'd mossy dell,
From mortal ken, we fairies dwell,
When the garish eye of day
Beams abroad its golden ray.

Light dancing on the daisied ground,
Our wanton rings we trace around,
When the moon, with paly light,
Gems the modest brow of night.

Around the mushroom's tawny breast,
"Tis there we hold our elfin feast;
Honey'd stores of saffron hue.
Acorn cups of nectar'd dew.

O sweetly thus our moments fly,
Till soon the rosy dawn we spy;
Then to taste the balmy sleep
In purple bells we softly creep.

I see them on their winding way.
By Bishop HEber.

I see them on their winding way,
About their ranks the moonbeams play;
Their lofty deeds, and daring high,

Blend with the notes of victory;

And waving arms, and banners bright,
Are glancing in the mellow light.

They're lost and gone-the moon is past, The wood's dark shade is o'er them cast, And fainter, fainter, fainter still,

The march is rising o'er the hill.

I see them, &c. &c.

Again, again, the pealing drum,
The clashing horn-they come, they come;
Through rocky pass, o'er wooded steep,
In long and glittering files they sweep;
And nearer, nearer, yet more near,
Their soften'd chorus meets the ear.
Forth, forth, and meet them on their way,
The trampling hoofs brook no delay;
With thrilllng fife, and pealing drum,
And clashing horn-they come, they come.
I see them, &c. &c.

To sigh yet feel no pain.

To sigh yet feel no pain,

To weep yet scarce know why;
To sport an hour with beauty's chain,
Then throw it idly by ;

To kneel at many a shrine,

Yet lay the heart on none;

To think all other charms divine,
But those we just have won ;

This is love-careless love-
Such as kindleth hearts that rove.

To keep one sacred flame

Through life unchill'd, unmov'd;

To love in wintry age the same
That first in youth we lov'd;

To feel that we adore

To such refin'd excess,

That though the heart would break with more,
We could not live with less;

This is love-faithful love,-
Such as saints might feel above!

Mary, list, awake!

Mary, dear Mary, list, awake!

And now like the moon thy slumbers break.
There is not a taper, and scarcely a sound,
To be seen or heard in the cottages round,
The watch-dog is silent, thy father sleeps,
And love, like the breeze, to thy window creeps.
The moonlight seems list'ning all over the land,
To the whispers of angels like thee;

O lift, but a moment, the sash with thy hand,
And kiss but that hand to me,

My love, Mary!

Kiss but that hand to me!

Gently awake, and gently arise !

Oh, for a kiss to unclose thine eyes;

The vapor of sleep should fly softly the while,
As the breath on thy looking-glass breaks at thy smile!
And then I would whisper thee never to fear,
For Heaven is all round thee when true love is near.
Just under the woodbine, dear Mary, I stand,
Still looking and list'ning for thee;

O lift, but a moment, the sash with thy hand,
And kiss but that hand to me,

My love, Mary!

Kiss but that hand to me!

Hark! do I hear thee?-Yes, 'tis thou,

And now there's thy hand, and I see thee now;

{

Thou look'st like a rose in a crystal stream,

For thy face, love, is bathed in the moonlight gleam!
And, oh! could my kisses like stream-circles rise,
To dip in thy dimples and spread round thine eyes!
How sweet to be lost in a night such as this,

In the arms of an angel like thee!

Nay, stay but a moment-one moment of bliss,
And smile but forgiveness to me,

My love, Mary!

Smile but forgiveness to me.

Nobody, sweet, can hear our sighs,

Thy voice just comes on the soft air and dies.
Dost thou gaze on the moon? I have gazed as I rove,
Till I thought it has breathed heaven's blessing on
love;

Till I've stretched out my arms, and my tears have be

gun,

And nature, and heaven, and thou, seemed but one.
Fare thee well, sweetest Mary, the moon's in the west,
And the leaves shine with tear-drops like thee;
So draw in thy charms, and betake thee to rest,
O, thou, dearer than life to me,

My love, Mary!

Thou dearer than life to me.

Tell me, are ye sleepin', Maggie!
AIR-"Roy's Wife."

Tell me, are ye sleepin', Maggie ?
Tell me, are ye sleepin', Maggie?

Let me in, for loud the linn

Is roarin' o'er the warlock craigie !
Mirk and rainy is the night,

No a starn in a' the carie,

Lightnings gleam athwart the lift,

And winds drive on wi' winter's fury.
Tell me, &c.