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Beneath thy mask shrouded,
I'll know thee afar,

As Love knows, though clouded,
His own Evening Star.

In garb, then, resembling
Some gay gondolier,
I'll whisper thee, trembling,
"Our bark, love, is near:
Now, now, while there hover
Those clouds o'er the moon,

"Twill waft thee safe over
Yon silent Lagoon."

ROSE OF THE DESERT.

OSE of the Desert! thou, whose blushing ray,
Lonely and lovely, fleets unseen away;
No hand to cull thee, none to woo thy sigh,-
In vestal silence left to live and die,-
Rose of the Desert! thus should woman be,

Shining uncourted, lone and safe, like thee.

Rose of the Garden, how unlike thy doom!
Destined for others, not thyself, to bloom;
Cull'd ere thy beauty lives through half its day;

A moment cherish'd, and then cast away;

Rose of the Garden! such is woman's lot,

Worshipp'd, while blooming-when she fades, forgot.

DO NOT SAY THAT LIFE IS WANING.

O not say that life is waning,

Or that Hope's sweet day is set; While I've thee and love remaining, Life is in th' horizon yet.

Do not think those charms are flying,
Though thy roses fade and fall;

Beauty hath a grace undying,

Which in thee survives them all.

Not for charms, the newest, brightest,
That on other cheeks may shine,
Would I change the least, the slightest,
That is ling'ring now o'er thine.

MY HEART AND LUTE.

GIVE thee all-I can no more--
Though poor the off'ring be;
My heart and lute are all the store
That I can bring to thee-
A lute whose gentle song reveals
The soul of love full well;
And, better far, a heart that feels

Much more than lute could tell.

Though love and song may fail, alas!
To keep life's clouds away,

At least 't will make them lighter pass,
Or gild them if they stay.

And ev'n if Care, at moments, flings
A discord o'er life's happy strain,
Let Love but gently touch the strings,
"T will all be sweet again!

ECHO.

OW sweet the answer Echo makes
To music at night,

When, roused by lute or horn, she wakes,

And far away, o'er lawns and lakes,
Goes answering light.

Yet Love hath echoes truer far,

And far more sweet,

Than e'er beneath the moonlight's star,

Of horn, or lute, or soft guitar,
The songs repeat.

"Tis when the sigh in youth sincere, And only then,

The sigh that's breathed for one to hear,

Is by that one, that only dear,

Breathed back again!

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