Mary, I believ'd thee true, And I was bless'd in thus be lieving; But now I mourn that e'er I knew A girl so fair and SO deceiving. Few have ever lov'd like me O! I have lov'd thee too sin - cerely; And few have e'er deceiv'd like thee!- A drink not so his wits could drown, But some excuse was ready. Mat said, the par-son fel-low, The very bells to ring he taught, As if they all were mel-low.' Hark, hark!' cried he, in tip- sy peal, 'Like roaring to pers as they reel, Hark! what a A LIFE IN THE WEST. The Poetry by G. P. Morris; the Music by Henry Russell.-Published in Davidson's Cheap and Uniform Edition of his Compositions. Allegro con Spirito. O brothers, come hi-ther, and list to my story, Merry and brief will the nar-ra-tive be,- Here, like a mon-arch, I reign in my glo- ry > Mas-ter am smoke of my cot-tage, be-guil-ing The chil-dren who clus-ter like grapes at the door. Then en-ter, boys-cheer-ly, boys, en -ter and rest; The land of the heart is the land of the west! O-ho! boys! O-ho! boys! Oho! boys! O -ho! Talk not of the town, boys-give me the broad prairie, Like those of the clouds, or the deep-rolling sea. Here, brothers, secure from all turmoil and danger, And care not a fig for the king on his throne. GAIETE DE CŒUR. Moderato. The Words adapted expressly for this Work, to an Air by Winter. They tell me that love is a fol-ly; They tell me that hope is vain,-That life is all me-lancholy, Yet, cousin, I ne'er complain; Yet, cousin, I ne'er com-plain. I dance with the Spring when she calleth ; I laugh at the bright June day; And when the wild Autumn falleth, Time's evils for ever are flying Life's shadows are daily dying; Ah, why should we call them back? The mind, it should gladden the seasons, Should strengthen the heart in pain; And so and for other bright reasons Sweet cousin, I ne'er complain. O! NAME NOT THOSE DAYS. The Poetry by W. M.-Adapted expressly for this Work to an Air by Louis Spohr. Andante. 3 harp, Let it still be unstrung- Retune not the harp, Let it still be unstrung? Those chords have oft spoken, Mid light hearts and gay; But the charm is now broken, And withered away. The lips that once echoed Thy vibrating thrill, And the heart that so felt it, Now for ever are still. THE BROKEN HEART. The Poetry by Sarina. -Adapted expressly for this Work to an Air by Mayer. Andantino. I gaz'd u - pon her face- No sign of guilt was there; tell the grief with in; Her gen-tle bosom heav'd no sigh, to tell the grief with-in. The purity of heaven Grac'd her fair and spotless brow; But I knew her heart was riven, For her very smile was woe. The cold world's cruel scorn Had rent that heart in twain; For she knew, though she was lorn, That her soul was free from stain. There was one whom she had lov'd With a woman's warmest glow; But he had faithless prov'd, And she sank beneath the blow. Yet her love remain'd unshaken, I mark'd the dazzling light I beheld her cheek's pure white And I knew her earthly doom ;-She died-and then the false one came To weep beside her tomb. sweet and clear, The hymns for twen-ty pounds a year-The par- son's clerk! Mister Joseph Joshua Twight Always dress'd as if in print; He gave out a hymn, his head he shook, Like others, he could not resist The parson's clerk! By fate's decree a rich man died, Whose widow, with much grief and pain, On Sundays to the chapel hied, In hopes-to wed again. The flesh did the spirit sore assail; Or a lark. She look'd as meek as any dove, And the parson's clerk! |