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Oh! if to love thee more
Worthy of thee,
Charms may wither, but feeling shall last,
Love's light summer-cloud sweetly shall cast. Rest, dear bosom! no sorrows shall pain thee,
Sighs of pleasure alone shalt thou steal;
Oh! if there be a charm*
Be to love well,
Charms may wither, but feeling will last,
Love's light summer-cloud sweetly shall cast.
KEEP YOUR TEARS FOR ME.
When ’midst the gay I meet
That gentle smile of thine,
I scarce can call it mine.
* This is one of the many instances in which I have sacrificed Metre, (and I may add Sense,) to the wild structure of the air.
But when to me alone
Your secret tears you show,
And claim thein while they flow.
The gay, the cold, the free; Give smiles to those who love you less,
But keep your tears for ine.
The snow on Jura's steep
Can smile with many a beam,
How bright soe'er it seem.
Whose touch is fire, appears,
And, melting, turns to tears.
The gay, the cold, the free ; Give smiles to those who love you less,
But keep your tears for me.
FANNY WAS IN THE GROVE.
Fanny was in the grove,
And Lubin her boy was nigh ;
eye was warm with love,
Fanny was made for bliss,
But she was young and shy, And when he had stolen a kiss,
She blush'd and said with a sigh, Oh! Oh! Lubin, ah! tell me true, Oh! Oh! what are you going to do?
They wander'd beneath the shade ;
Her eye was dimm'd with a tear, For ah ! the poor little maid
Was thrilling with love and fear. Oh! Oh! if Lubin would but sue, Oh! Oh! what could Fanny do?
Sweetly along the grove,
The birds sang all the while,
With a frown that was half a smile,
OH ! REMEMBER THE TIME.
Qa! remember the time in La Mancha's shades,
When our moments so blissfully flew; When
you call'd me the flow'r of Castilian maids, And I blush'd to be call'd so by you. When I taught you to warble the gay Seguadille,
And to dance to the light Castanet,
Oh! never, dear youth, let you roam where you will,
The delight of those moments forget.
They tell me, you lovers, from Erin's green Isle,
Ev'ry hour a new passion can feel; And that soon in the light of some lovelier smile,
You'll forget the poor maid of Castile.
rove ; For 'tis always the spirit most gallant in war,
That is fondest and truest in love !
AWAY WITH THIS POUTING AND SADNESS.
Away with this pouting and sadness,
Sweet Girl, will you never give o'er? I love you by Heaven, to madness,
And what can I swear to you more ? Believe not the Old Woman's fable,
That oaths are as short as a kiss. I'll love you as long as I am able,
And swear for no longer than this.
Then away with pouting and sadness,
Sweet Girl, will you never give o'er? I love you, by heaven, to madness,
And what can I swear to you more?
Come waste not the time in professions,
For not to be blest when we can Is one of the darkest transgressions
That happen 'twixt Woman and Man ; Pretty Moralist! why thus beginning,
My innocent warmth to reprove ? Heaven knows that I never lov'd sinning, Except little sinnings in love :
Then away, &c.
If swearing, however, will do it,
Come bring me the calendar pray, I vow by that Lip-I'll go through it,
And not miss a Saint on my way ; The Angels shall help me to wheedle,
I'll swear upon every one That e'er danced on the point of a needle, Or rode on the beam of the sun :
Then away, &c.
Oh why should Platonic control, love,
Enchain an emotion so free? Your Soul, tho’ a very sweet Soul, love,
Will ne'er be sufficient for me ; If you think by this coldness and scorning,
To seem more angelic and bright, Be an Angel, my love, in the morning, But oh! be Woman at night :
Then away, &c.