The queen of the garden, the ruby lip'd rose, On her emerald throne by the rivulet grows; Come hither, my rosebud, and shame the proud flower, Out blush the gay queen in her own gaudy bower, I'll sing thee a song, and the burden shall be, Dark eyed one, dark eyed one, I languish for thee. So laden with sweets is each sight of the gale, I'm sure my beloved is crossing the vale; The tulip is quaffing his cup full of wine, The turtle is murm'ring vows to the pine. Oh, was not the moments so precious to love, Come drink with the tulip, and court with the dove, I'll wing thee a song, and the burden shall be, Dark eyed one, dark eyed one, I lan guish for thee THE SEA. THE sea! the sea! the open sea! It plays with the clouds; it mocks the skies, Or like a cradled creature lies. I'm on the sea! I'm on the sea! With the blue above, and the blue below, And silence wheresoe'er I go: If a storm should come and wake the deep, What matter? I shall ride and sleep. I love, oh! how I love to ride Or whistles aloft his tempest tune, I never was on the dull tame shore, But I lov'd the great sea more and more, And backwards flew to her billowy breast, Like a bird that seeketh, its mother's nest; And a mother she was, and is to me, For I was born on the open sea! The waves were white, and red the morn, In the noisy hour when I was born; And the whale it whistled, the porpoise rolled, And the dolphins bared their backs of gold; And never was heard such an outcry wild As welcomed to life the ocean-child! I've lived since then, in calm and strife, But never have sought, nor sighed for change; And Death, whenever he comes to me, Shall come on the wild unbounded sea! BONAPARTE'S FAREWELL. AIR-Captain O'Kean. FAREWELL to the land, where the gloom of my glory Arose and o'ershadow'd the earth with her name,— She abandons me now, but the page of her story, The brightest or blackest, is fill'd with my fame. I have warr'd with a world which vanquish'd me only When the meteor of Conquest allur'd me too far, I have coped with the nations which dread me thus lonely, The last single captive to millions in war! Farewell to thee, France-when thy diadem crown'd me, I made thee the gem and the wonder of earth, But thy weakness decrees I should leave as I found thee, Decayed in thy glory, and sunk in thy worth. Oh! for the veteran hearts that were wasted In strife with the storm, when their battles were won, Then the eagle, whose gaze in that moment was blasted, Had still soar'd with eyes fixed on Farewell to thee, France-but when liberty rallies Once more in thy regions, remember me then The violet grows in the depth of thy valleys, Though withered, thy tears will unfold it again. Yet, yet, I may baffle the hosts that surround us, And yet may thy heart leap awake to my voice There are links which must break in the chain that has bound us; Then turn thee, and call on the chief of thy choice! |