Love on, love on, aye even though the heart,

We fondly build on, proveth like the sand,

Though one by one, Faith's corner stones depart,

And even Hope's last pillar fails to stand;

Though we may dread the lips we once believed,

And know their falsehood shadows "all our days,

Who would not rather trust and be deceived

Than own the mean cold spirit that betrays.

Love on, love on, &c.

Love on, love on, though we may live

to see

The dear face whiter than its circling shroud,

Though dark and dense the gloom of death may be,

Affection's glory yet shall pierce the cloud.

The truest spell that heav'n can give to lure,

Their mystic music ever dwells around

The strain is echoed by unnumber'd chords

And gentlest bosoms yield the fullest sound.

As flowers keep springing tho' their dazzling bloom,

Is oft put forth for worms to feed upon;

So hearts tho' deeply wrung by traitors and the tomb,

Shall still be precious and shall still

love on.

Love on, love on, &c

RAMBLING BOYS OF PLEASURE

You rambling boys of pleasure,
Give ear to these few lines I write,
It is true I am a rover,

And in roving take great delight.

I fix

my mind on a fair maid,

Tho' often times she does me slight, My mind is never easy,

But when my darling is in my sight.

The second time I saw my love,

I thought she really would be mine, But as the weather alters,

The maid did change her mind.

Gold is the root of evil,

Although it shines with glittering hue,

Causes many a lad and lass to part, Let their hearts and minds be e'er so true.

There's one thing more I have to relate, Before that I do go away,

In my own country where I was born, Cupid would not let me free.

To leave my girl behind me,
Oh dear, alas! what must I do,
Must I become a rover,

And court some girl I never knew.

EVENING SONG TO THE VIRGIN
AT SEA.

Ave sanctissima,

We lift our souls to thee,
Ora pro nobis,

'Tis night-fall on the sea.

Watch us while shadows lie,
Far o'er the water spread,
Hear the heart's lonely sigh--
Thine too hath bled.

Thou that hast looked on death,
Aid us when death is near.

Whisper of heaven to faith,

Sweet mother, sweet mother hear

Ora pro nobis,

The wave must rock our sleep,

Ora mater ora,

Star of the deep.

wwwm

THE GROVES OF BLARNEY.

THE Groves of Blarney they look se charming,

Down by the purlings of sweet silent brooks

All grac'd by posies that spontaneous grow there

And planted in order in the rocky nooks.

'Tis there the daisy and sweet carna tion,

The blooming pink, all the rose so fair,

The daffydowndilly besides the lily, Flowers that scent the sweet open air.

'Tis lady Jeffrey's that owns that station,

Like Alexander, or like Helen fair, There's no commander in all the na tion,

For regulation could with her com

pare.

Such walls around her that no nine pounder