Now do not, dear Hal, while abroad you are straying, That heart which is mine on a rival bestow; Nay, banish that frown, such displeasure betray ing, [no ! Do you think I suspect you? Oh! no, my love, I believe you too kind for one moment to grieve me, Or plant in a heart which adores you such woe; Yet should you dishonour my truth and deceive me, [love, no! Should I e'er cease to love you? Oh! no, my M. G. LEWIS. SONG. I DANCED With Harriet at the fair, But why I praised her, sweet one, know, The tresses negligently flow About the cheeks of Anne. One evening in the passion week, When Lucy play'd at hide and seek, Her black eyes shone like glowworms bright, To find out where she ran; But if I praised them, sweet one, know, I recollected, even so The black eyes sparkle, burn, and glov Louisa's lips in kisses meet, Like a twin cherry ripe and sweet; In Catherine's breath rich perfume dwells; To charm the gaze of man! Yet if I praise them, sweet one, know, All blent in mistress Anne. LEFTLY. SONG. SWEET is the balmy evening hour, I love to loiter on the hill, And catch each trembling ray ;- What is the breath of closing flowers What are the dew-drops' crystal showers But tears from Pity's eye? What are the glowworms by the rill But Fancy's flashes gay? I love them, for they mind me still MISS MITFORD. SONG. I LIKE not beauty's roseate brightness; Give me the pure and tranquil glance I like not lips for ever smiling; MISS MITFORD. SONG. No-not the eye of tender blue, The breathing tint, the beamy ray, That o'er the form of beauty play, Might warm a colder heart than mine, But when to radiant form and feature With temper mild and gay good nature,- THELWALL. SONG. OH, frown not on my daring vows, When Winter's howling storms arise, More fondly will he clasp thee round? Tell thee if proud, exalted power Tell thee if some lone turf were given Oh, frown not on my daring vows Thou high-born maid of Inistore! Well mayst thou claim a nobler spouse, 'But, Mary, will he love thee more? HODGSON. SONG. HERE'S the Vow she falsely swore, Her vow recorded still remains, But where's the lip that swore it? Her ringlet still my neck enchains, But where's the brow that wore it? Swiftly flew my hours away When faithful Beauty prized me; HODGSON. |