I thought no more of my master's sword,

When I played on my master's lute. She seem'd to think me a boy above Her pages of low degree.

Oh! had I but lov'd with a boyish love, It would have been better for me.

Then I'll hide in my breast ev'ry selfish

care,

I'll flush my pale cheek with wine, When smiles awake the bridal pair, I'll hasten to give them mine.

'I'll laugh and I'll sing, though my heart may bleed,

And I'll walk in the festive train ; And if I survive it I'll mount my steed, And off to the wars again.

But one golden tress of her hair I'll twine

In my helmet's sable plume,

And then, on the field of Palestine
I'll seek an early doom:

And if by the Saracen's hand I fall,
'Mid the noble and the brave,
A tear from my lady-love is all
I ask for the warrior's grave.

BEAUTIFUL ISLE OF THE SEA!

GEORGE COOPER.

BEAUTIFUL Isle of the sea!

Smile on the brow of the waters! Dear are your mem'ries unto me, Sweet as the songs of your daughters. Over your mountains and vales, Down by each murmuring river, Cheer'd by the flow'r-loving gales, Oh! could I wander for ever! Land of the True and the Old, Home ever dear unto meFountain of pleasure untold, Beautiful Isle of the sea! Fountain of pleasure untold, Beautiful, Beautiful Isle of the sea!

Oft, on your shell-girdled shore,

Ev'ning has found me reclining,

Vision of youth dreaming o'er,

Down where the light-house was shi-
ning-

Far from the gladness you gave,
Far from all joys worth possessing,
Still, o'er the lone weary wave,

Comes to the wand'rer your blessing!

Land of the True and Old,

Home ever dear unto me

Fountain of pleasure untold,

Beautiful Isle of the sea! Fountain of pleasure untold,

Beautiful, Beautiful Isle of the sea!

THE VALLEY LAY SMILING.

THOMAS MOORE.

AIR.-"Cailin Deas Crutie na-m-bo "

THE Valley lay smiling before me,
Where lately I left her behind;
Yet I trembled, and something hung
o'er me,

That sadden'd the joy of my mind.
I look'd for the lamp which she told me
Should shine when her Pilgrim re-
turn'd,

But, though darkness began to infold

me;

No lamp from the battlements burn'd!

I flew to her chamber-'twas lonely
As if the loved tenant lay dead!
Ah! would it were death, and death
only!

But no-the young false one had fled.

And there hung the lute, that could soften

My very worst pains into bliss,

While the hand that had waked it so often,

Now throbb'd to a proud rival's kiss.

There was a time, falsest of women! When Breffni's good sword would have sought

That man, through a million of foemen, Who dared but to doubt thee in thought!

While now-oh degenerate daughter
Of Erin, how fall'n is thy fame!
And, thro' ages of bondage and slaugh
ter,

Our country shall bleed for thy shame.

Already the curse is upon her,

And strangers her valleys profane ;
They come to divide-to dishonor,
And tyrants they long will remain !
But, onward -the green banner rear-
ing,

Go, flesh every sword to the hilt
On our side is Virtue and Erin!
On theirs is the Saxon and Guilt.

NORAH DARLING, DON'T BELIEVE

THEM.

NORAH darling, don't believe them,
Never heed their flattering wiles,
Trust a heart that loves thee dearly,
Lives but in thy sunny smiles—
I must leave thee, Norah darling,
But I leave my heart with thee;
Keep it, for 'tis true and faithful
As a loving heart can be.

When the stars are round me glist'ning,
And the moon shines bright above,
Perhaps, my Norah, thou'lt be list'ning
To another tale of love.

Perhaps they'll tell thee I'll forget thee,
Teach thy gentle heart to fear;
Oh, my Norah, never doubt me-
Don't believe them, Norah dear.

They must love thee, Norah darling,
When they look into those eyes,
Oh, thou❜lt never let them rob me
Of the heart I dearly prize.
Thou wilt not forget me, Norah,
When their tales of love you hear,
Never heed their treacherous whispers,
Don't believe them, Norah dear.