THE RING AND THE WINDING SHEET. SAMUEL LOVER. Why sought you not the silent bow'r, Say, does that heart beat colder now— Oh! tell me, truly tell Than when you kiss'd my burning brow, When last you said farewell?' As late my taper I illumed, And trimm'd the flame with care, Oh, say, was this foreboding truth, And wilt thou break thy vow, And wilt thou blight my opening youth? And must I-must I now Meet death's embrace for that chaste kiss, That holy kiss you vow'd? And must I for my bridal dress Be mantled in the shroud? A SERENADE. BARRY CORNWALL. Awake!-the starry midnight hour Look forth, my love, for Love's sweet sake! Awake!-soft dews will soon arise From daisied mead, and thorny brake; Then, sweet, uncloud those eastern eyes, And like the tender morning break! Awake! awake! Dawn forth, my love, for Love's sweet sake. Awake!-within the musk-rose bower I watch, pale flower of love, for thee: Ah, come, and shew the starry hour What wealth of love thou hid'st from me! Shew all thy love, for Love's sweet sake! Awake!-ne'er heed, though listening night And bid the world, and me, rejoice! She comes, at last, for Love's sweet sake! INDIAN LOVE. BARRY CORNWALL. Tell me not that thou dost love me, Hast thou (thou from kings descended) Go, and for thy father's glory, Wed the blood that's pure and free : 'Tis enough to gild my story, That I once was loved by thee! MARIAN. BARRY CORNWALL. Spirit of the summer breeze! Wherefore sleep'st thou in the trees? Come, and kiss the maiden rose, That on Marian's bosom blows! Come and fawn about her hair! Kiss the fringes of her eyes! Ask her why she looks so fair, When she heedeth not my sighs? Tell her, murmuring summer air, IS MY LOVER ON THE SEA? Is BARRY CORNWALL. my lover on the sea, Sailing east or sailing west? Nightly ocean, gentle be, Rock him into rest! Let no angry wind arise, Nor a wave with whitened crest: All be gentle as his eyes When he is caressed! Bear him (as the breeze above A DRINKING SONG. BARRY CORNWALL. Drink, and fill the night with mirth! And soar into the world of pleasure. Here's to Helen! why, ah! why Fill the deep-mouthed glasses high When the four wild winds assemble! Here's to all the love on earth, (Love, the young man's, wise man's treasure!) Drink, and fill your throats with mirth! Drink, and drown the world in pleasure! |