That dwelt in every silver tone The songs she sung-the songs she sung! Of praise that fell whene'er she flung But tears were gushing forth like rain, The songs she sung-the songs she sung! Earth's yearnings from the heart are flung, 66 BECAUSE! "Why? Because."-LINDLEY MURRAY. SWEET Nea!-for your lovely sake I weave these rambling numbers, Because I've lain an hour awake, And can't compose my slumbers; Because your beauty's gentle light Is round my pillow beaming, And flings, I know not why, to-night, Some witchery o'er my dreaming! Because we've passed some joyous days, And danced some merry dances; Because you love old Beaumont's plays, And old Froissart's romances ! Because, whene'er I hear your words, Some pleasant feeling lingers; Because I think your heart has chords That vibrate to my fingers! Because you've got those long, soft curls Because a little child and you Would make one's home so cosy ! Because your little tiny nose Turns up so pert and funny; Because I know you choose your beaux More for their mirth than money; Because I think you'd rather twirl A waltz, with me to guide you, Than talk small nonsense with an Earl, And a coronet beside you! Because you don't object to walk, Because I think you'd scarce refuse Because I know you'd sometimes choose Because I think I'm just so weak A church-a priest-a sigh-a ring— SONG TO A SERENADER IN FEBRUARY. AIR-"Why hast thou taught me to love thee?" DEAR minstrel, the dangers are not to be told Of those strains which have trebly undone me, A victim to pity, to love, and to cold, I'll be dead by the time thou hast won me! Oh! think for a moment-whoever thou art, How keenly around me the night breezes blow,— How sweetly thy parting note lingers, - Ah! would that the glow of my heart could bestow A share of its warmth to-my fingers! But though she who would watch while the nightingales sing Should scorn to let cold overcome her,— Though, like other sweet birds, you begin in the Spring, I can't fall in love till the Summer. THE CHILDE'S DESTINY. "And none did love him—not his lemans dear." No mistress of the hidden skill, (6 I bind thee with a spell," said she, No woman's love shall light on thee, -BYRON. "And trust me, 'tis not that thy cheek Is colourless and cold; Nor that thine eye is slow to speak Yet while the rivers seek the sea, "And 'tis not that thy spirit, awed Shrinks from the force or from the fraud For thou hast learned to watch, and wake, And thou art very bold to take I cannot tell ;-the charm was wrought The lips are lightly begged or bought,- "Yet thine the brightest smiles shall be And confidence from two or three, And one shall give-perchance hath given- Friendship,-oh! such as saints in heaven Rain on us from above: If she shall meet thee in the bower, Or name thee in the shrine, O wear the ring and guard the flower! "Go, set thy boat before the blast, |