While skies and ocean blending, And the daring tar, 'twixt life and death, Come, sit thee down, etc. MARY WEEP NO MORE FOR ME. JOHN LOWE. THE moon had climb'd the highest hill That rises o'er the source of Dee, And from the eastern summit shed Her silver light on tower and tree; When Mary laid her down to sleep, Her thoughts on Sandy far at sea; Then soft and low a voice was heard Saying "Mary weep no more .for me." She from her pillow gently raised Three stormy nights and stormy days We tossed upon the raging main, And long we strove our bark to save, But all our striving was in vain. E'en then, when horror chill'd my blood, My heart was fill'd with love for thee; The storm is past, and I at rest, So Mary, weep no more for me! "O maiden dear, thyself prepare! We soon shall meet upon that shore Where love is free from doubt or care, And thou and I shall part no more." Loud crow'd the cock, the shadow fled! No more of Sandy could she see ! But soft the passing spirit said, "O Mary, weep no more for me!" HIBERNIA'S LOVELY JEAN. WHEN parting from the Scottish shore, To join the hostile ranks; At length in Ireland we arrived, Where a bonny maid my heart be trayed She's Hibernia's lovely Jean. Her cheeks were of the roseate hue, This bonny lass of Irish braw, Her parents said a soldier's bride, No hope does now remain, Since the nymph divine cannot be mine, She's Hibernia's lovely Jean. My tartan plaid I will forsake, Then in Ireland where the Forever I'll remain, graces dwell, And in Hymen's band join heart in hand, Wi' Hibernia's lovely Jean. Should war triumphant sound again, bear For Hibernia's lovely Jean. NOREEN. G. LINLEY. NOREEN, darling! don't look so shy— It follows me still, Beaming bright, like a star in the sky. While pressing your hand yesterday, As idly we saunter'd along, Each word that I wanted to say Expired at the polnt of my tongueFor as in a book I read by your look, That you seem well to know what I mean. Yes, I love you, my darling Noreen I Noreen if to love you be wrong, The blame to my heart doth belong. And your name the sweet theme of my song. Then, darling, no longer delay, Your glances my heart have undone, That smile says what I wish'd to say, To-morrow we two shall be one. The priest and a ring, Will best settle the thing, And explain what I really do mean. THE MAY-DEW. SAMUEL LOVER. COME with me, love, I'm seeking In jewell'd India's sea; For the dew-drops, love, might serve to bind Thy heart, for ever, to me! |