« VorigeDoorgaan »
"Oh! never," she cried,
་ could I think of en
An image whose looks are so joyless and dim; But yon little god, upon roses reclining,
We'll make, if you please, Sir, a Friendship of
So the bargain was struck; with the little god
She joyfully flew to her shrine in the grove.
«< you're not the
Who came but for Friendship and took away
FLOW ON, THOU SHINING RIVER.
FLOW on, thou, shining river,
But, ere thou reach the sea,
Seek Ella's bow'r and give her
And tell her thus, if she'll be mine,`
But if, in wand'ring thither
Thou find'st she mocks my pray'r, Then leave those wreaths to wither,
Upon the cold bank there.
And tell her thus, when youth is o'er,
ALL THAT'S BRIGHT MUST FADE,
ALL that's bright must fade,
Stars that shine and fall,
To which our hearts are clinging.
But to be lost when sweetest !
Who would seek or prize
Delights that end in aching?
That ev'ry hour are breaking?
In utter darkness lying,
Than be blest with light and see
SO WARMLY WE MET.
warmly we met and so fondly we parted, That which was the sweeter ev'n I could not
That first look of welcome her sunny eyes darted, Or that tear of passion which bless'd our fare
To meet was a heav'n-and to part thus another,
The first was like day-break, new, sudden, deli
The dawn of a pleasure scarce kindled up yetThe last was that farewell of day-light more pre
More glowing and deep, as 'tis nearer its set. Our meeting, though happy, was tinged by a
To think that such happiness could not remain, While our parting, though sad, gave a hope that
Would bring back the blest hour of meeting again.
THOSE EV'NING BELLS.
AIR-The Bells of St. Petersburgh.
THOSE EV'ning bells, those ev'ning bells,
Those joyous hours are past away,
And so 'twill be, when I am gone,
That tuneful peal will still ring on,
While other bards shall walk these dells,
SHOULD THOSE FOND HOPES.
SHOULD those found hopes e'er forsake thee,
Should the gay friends for whom thou wouldst banish
Him who once thought thy young heart his
All, like spring birds, falsely vanish,
And leave thy winter unheeded and lone.
Oh! 'tis then he thou hast slighted
Would come to cheer thee, when all seem'd o'er; Then the truant, lost and blighted,
Would to his bosom be taken once more.