THE MAY-QUEEN,-PART I. The Poetry by Alfred Tennyson, Esq.; the Music by W. Dempster.-Published by permission by Davidson. Allegretto con Vivace. o' the May, Mo-ther,-I'm to be Queen o' the May! The shepherd lads on every side 'll come from far away, For I'mto be Queen o' the May, Mother,-I'm to be Queen o' the May. All the valley, Mother, will be fresh & green & still, And the cowslip and the crowfoot are over all the hill, [and play : And the violet in the flowery dale 'ill merrily glanee For I'm to be Queen o' the May, Mother,-I'm to be Queen o' the May. So you must wake and call me early, call me early, Mother dear,[New Year; To-morrow 'll be the happiest time of all the glad To-morrow'll be of all the year the maddest, merriest day, For I'm to be Queen o' the May, Mother,-I'm to be Queen o' the May THE MAX-QUEEN,-PART II. The Poetry by Alfred Tennyson, Esq.; the Music by W. Dempster.-Published by permission by Davidson. Andante. If you're wak-ing, call me ear-ly, call me ear-ly, Mo-ther dear, For I would see the [tree. the upon The blossom on the black-thorn, the leaf Last May we made a crown of flow'rs; we had a merry day : Beneath the hawthorn on the green, they made me Queen of May; And we danc'd about the may-pole, and in the hazel copse, Till Charles's Wain came out above the tall white chimney-tops. There's not a flow'r on all the hills; the frost is low in the mould, and think no more of me. I wish the snow would melt, and the sun come out on high: I long to see a flower so before the day I die! When the flowers come again, Mother, beneath the waning light, You'll never see me more in the long gray fields at night; [cool, When from the dry dark wold the summer airs go On the oat-grass and the sword-grass, and the bulrush in the pool. Good night, sweet Mother: call me before the day is born, All night I lie awake, but I fall asleep at morn : But I would see the sun rise upon the glad NewYear, So, if you're waking, call me, call me early, Mother dear. WHY CHIME THE BELLS SO MERRILY? Poetry by J. P. Phillips; 'Music by J. P. Knight.-Published by Davidson. Why chime the bells so merrily? Why seem ye all so gay? Is it be-cause the New-year's come, and the old has pass'd away? O! can ye look up on the past and feel no sor-row now, That thus ye sing so joyously, and smiles light ev'ry brow? O! if ye can be blithe and gay, the song troll gai ly on, And the bur - den be, the New-year's come, and the Old - year's gone; and the Far, far from me my lover flies, A faithless lov - er he; In WHERE'S THE HEART SO COLD? The Words by Miss M. L. Rede, to an Irish Melody, Moore's 'All that's Bright must fade.' vir-tue giv-en, We feel thou can'st not fail To yet be one in Hea-ven. woe and Then let sighs less deep, O'er thy lip come stealing; Be the tear you weep Fraught with balmier healing! Mem'ry vainly tries To speak to thee of error,- All thy many woes To thee were only given, The flame that mounts to Heaven. FORGIVE THE MUSE THAT SLUMBER'D. Irish Melody; Poetry by Leman Rede to Moore's Air 'd Mourn the Hopes,' &c. For give the muse that slumber'd Up on thy dear, thy na- tal day, Nor think that 'tis un-number'd Among the first that claim her lay; Aud though she wants the fra -grance Of glowing fancy's beam di-vine, Af life and human folly, But mer-ri-ly, merri-ly sing, fal la! Come on, ve ro-sy hours, Gay smil-ing mo-ments bring: We'll strew the path with flowers, And mer-ri-ly, mer-ri-ly sing, fal-la! For what's the use of sigh- ing While Time is on the wing? Can we prevent his fly-ing? Then mer-ri-ly, mer -ri - ly sing falla! HERE'S TO THE MAIDEN OF BASHFUL FIFTEEN. Written and Composed by Richard Brinslev Sheridan.-Published as Song and Chorus by Davidson. With Spirit. Let the toast pass; drink to the lass; I Here's to the maid with a bosom of snow! war-rant she'll prove an ex-cuse for the glass. Here's to the wife with a face full of woe! Let 'em be clumsy or let 'em be slim, I AM A YOUNG MAN THAT'S MOST HIGHLY RESPECTABLE. Words by Leman Rede, Esq., to the Air of 'The Irish Washerwoman.' am a young man that's most highly re- spec table; My na- ture's gen teel, and my feel-ings sus-cep-ti- ble: I want a father, a mother, an aunt,-In Fine. mansions, want vil-las and grounds, Want I want a tandem to splash to the races now; I want a roadster that's good in his paces now I want smart footmen, a tiger-but, zounds! I scarcely can keep all my wants within bounds. I want a wife, with a villa to bring her to; I want a valet that's down to a thing or two; I want to be shown to each swellified haunt ;In short, I can't tell you one-half that I want. I am a young man, &c. racers and hun-ters, want fox -es and hounds. A title, a fortune, and parliament place; I want admiration, and frolic, and blisses, too, Soft sighs, soft tears, soft glances, and kisses, too;- O! IT WASN'T FOR ME THAT I HEARD THE BELLS RINGING. |