WHEN FIRST I DARED. WHEN first I dared, by soft surprise, Of trembling joy and pleasing fear; But soon the crimson glow returned, Ere half my passion was expressed The eye that closed, the cheek that burned, The quivering lip, the panting breast, Showed that she wished or thought me true; For what has art with love to do? Ah! speak, I cried, thy soft assent: She strove to speak, she could but sigh; A glance, more heavenly eloquent, Left language nothing to supply. Ye practised nymphs, who from your charms, Secure of native powers to please, My Flavia scorns all mean pretence; Her form is elegance and ease, Her soul is truth and innocence; And these, O heartfelt ecstasy! She gives to honor, love, and me. WILLIAM MASCN. HOLYDAY GOWN. Is holyday gown, and my new-fangled hat, I held up my head, and I'll tell you for what,- He woos me to marry whenever we meet, There's honey sure dwells on his tongue! He hugs me so close, and he kisses so sweetI'd wed-if I were not too young. Fond Sue, I'll assure you, laid hold on the boy, Some token she claimed, either riband or toy, A top-knot he bought her, and garters of green,- I hate her so much that, to kill her with spleen, He whispered such soft pretty things in mine ear! Such trinkets he gave me, such laces and geer, Good faith! he's so handsome, so witty, and kind, The sun was just setting, 'twas time to retire, I rose to be gone-Roger bowed like a squire, His arms he threw round me-love laughed in his eye; There pressed me so close, I agreed, with a sigh, JOHN CUNNINGHAM ADDRESS TO THE WOOD-LARK. O, STAY, Sweet warbling wood-lark, stay, Nor quit for me the trembling spray; A hapless lover courts thy lay, Thy soothing fond complaining. ON A FADED VIOLET. THE odor from the flower is gone, A shrivelled, lifeless, vacant form, I weep-my tears revive it not! PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY LOVE'S PHILOSOPHY. SEE the mountains ss high heaven, PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY. MOURN NOT, SWEET MAID. MOURN not, sweet maid, nor fondly try To rob me of my sorrow; It is the only friend that I To bid my heart good-morrow. I would not chase him from my heart, For he is Love's own brother; And each has learned his brother's part So aptly, that 'tis no mean art To know one from the other. Thus Love will fold his arms and moan, And learned his smile to borrow. Go, forget me-why should sorrow Brightly smile and sweetly sing. Like the sun, thy presence glowing, Clothes the meanest things in light; And when thou, like him, art going, Loveliest objects fade in night. All things looked so bright about thee, That they nothing seem without thee; By that pure and lucid mind Earthly things were too refined. Go, thou vision, wildly gleaming, Softly on my soul that fell; Go, for me no longer beaming Hope and Beauty! fare ye well! Go, and all that once delighted Take, and leave me all benightedGlory's burning generous swell, Fancy, and the Poet's shell. LINES TO AN INDIAN AIR. Has led me who knows how? O lift me from the grass! STANZAS FOR MUSIC. THERE be none of Beauty's daughters With a magic like thee: And like music on the waters As an infant's asleep: So the spirit bows before thee, THE FAREWELL. Long, long, midst leaves and moss concealed; And thou, fond Lover! to whose truth EVENINGS IN GREECE. BY THOMAS MOORE. IN thus connecting together a series of Songs by a thread of poetical narrative, my chief object has been to combine Recitation with Music, so as to enable a greater mumber of persons to join in the performance, by enlisting, as readers, those who may not feel willing or competent to take a part as singers. The Island of Zea, where the scene is laid, was called by the ancients Ceos, and was the birthplace of Simonides, Bacchylides, and other eminent persons. An account of its present state may be found in the Travels of Dr. Clarke, who says, that "it appeared to him to be the best cultivated of any of the Grecian Isles."-THOMAS MOORE. FIRST EVENING. "THE sky is bright-the breeze is fair, "To Greece we give our shining blades, "The moon is in the heavens above, "And the wind is on the foaming sea"Thus shines the star of woman's love "On the glorious strife of Liberty! "Farewell, farewell. "To Greece we give our shining blades, Thus sung they from the bark, that now Where still the farewell beacons burn, Of parents in their wintry hour, Which now, alas, no more is seen- The moonlight spot where it had been. Vainly you look, ye maidens, sires, And mothers, your belov'd are gone!- Whose light they long lock'd back upon Home to your chambers! home, and pray On which the sun of Greece looks down, The lovely maids of Patmos weave:-‡ And that fair plant, whose tangled stems The Valley, where that Fount is born: Stand with their leafy pride unfurl'd; 'Twas here as soon as prayer and sleep Cuscuta europea. "From the twisting and twining of the ster it is compared by the Greeks to the dishevelled hair of the Nereids.”— Walpole's Turkey. The produce of the island in these acorns alone amounts an nually to fifteen thousand quintals,”—Clarke's Travels. 'Twas here, in this secluded spot, Amid whose breathings calm and sweet Grief might be sooth'd, if not forgot, The Zean nymphs resolv'd to meet Each evening now, by the same light That saw their farewell tears that night; And try, if sound of lute and song, If wand'ring 'mid the moonlight flowers In various talk, could charm along With lighter step, the ling'ring hours, When first they met-the wonted smile O'er their young brows, when they look'd round But seldom long doth hang th' eclipse Of sorrow o'er such youthful breasts- They sat, beneath the rising moon- With laugh, that told the lighten❜d heart, That many a nymph, though pleas'd the while, Among these maidens there was one, Who to Leucadia late had been- On its white tow'ring cliffs, and seen Th' immortal spot, o'er which the last While fresh to ev'ry listener's thought That o'er the tender Lesbian stole, SONG. As o'er her loom the Lesbian Maid In love-sick languor hung her head, Unknowing where her finger's stray'd, She weeping turn'd away, and said, "Oh, my sweet Mother-'tis in vain"I cannot weave, as once I wove"So wilder'd is my heart and brain "With thinking of that youth I love!" Again the web she tried to trace, But tears fell o'er each tangled thread; While, looking in her mother's face, Who watchful o'er her lean'd, she said, "Oh, my sweet Mother-'tis in vain "I cannot weave, as once I wove"So wilder'd is my heart and brain "With thinking of that youth I love!" A silence follow'd this sweet air, That they, too, were Love's worshippe At length a murmur, all but mute, Of some lost melody, some strain She sought among those chords again. Slowly the half-forgotten theme (Though born in feelings ne'er forgot) Came to her memory-as a beam Falls broken o'er some shaded spot, And while her lute's sad symphony Fill'd up each sighing pause between; And Love himself might weep to see What ruin comes where he hath beenAs witner'd still the grass is found Where fays have danc'd their merry round-Thus simply to the list'ning throng She breath'd her melancholy song: Can touch it with peculiar power. As when the air is warm, the scent Of the most wild and rustic flower Can fill the whole rich elementAnd, in such moods, the homeliest tone That's link'd with feelings, once our ownWith friends or joys gone by-will be Worth choirs of loftiest harmony! But some there were, among the group Of damsels there, too light of heart To let their spirits longer droop, Ev'n under music's melting art; Had still a trembling tear within; Had sung to her-the eve before The Feast of May, on the sea-shore. SONG. WHEN the Balaika * Is heard o'er the sea, I'll dance the Romaika By moonlight with thee. If waves then, advancing, Should steal on our play, Is heard o'er the sea, The moon leave the skies, Of each other's eyes. Oh then, how featly Treading so fleetly Its light mazes through: Till stars, looking o'er us From heaven's high bow'rs, Would change their bright chorus For one dance of ours! When the Balaika Is heard o'er the sea, Thou'lt dance the Romaika, How changingly for ever veers The heart of youth, 'twixt smiles and tears. The shadow from each blooming brow, And Dancing, joyous Dancing, held Full empire o'er each fancy now. But say what shall the measure be? "Shall we the old Romaika tread, (Some eager ask'd) "as anciently This word is defrauded here, I suspect, of a syllable; Dr. Clarke, recollect right, makes it " Balalaika." I saw above thirty parties engaged in dancing the Romaika upon the sand; in some of those groups, the girl who led them chased the retreating wave."-Douglas on the Modern Greeks. "In dancing the Romaika (says Mr. Douglas) they begin in slow A solemn step till they have gained the time, but by degrees the air becomes more sprightly; the conductress of the dance sometimes set. ting to her partner, sometimes darting before the rest, and leading them rough the most rapid revolutions; sometimes crossing under the hands, which are held up to let her pass, and giving as much live ""Twas by the maids of Delos led, "When, slow at first, then circling fast, "As the gay spirits rose--at last, "With hand in hand, like links, enlock'd, "Through the light air they seem'd to flit "In labyrinthine maze, that mock'd 66 "The dazzled eye that follow'd it?" Some call'd aloud the Fountain Dance!". While one young, dark-ey'd Amazon. Whose step was air-like, and whose glance Flash'd, like a sabre in the sun, Sportively said, "Shame on these soft "And languid strains we hear so oft. "Daughters of Freedom! have not we "Learn'd from our lovers and our sires "The Dance of Greece, while Greece was free-"That Dance, where neither flutes nor lyres, "But sword and shield clash on the ear "A music tyrants quake to hear? § "Heroines of Zea, arm with me, "And dance the dance of Victory!" Thus saying, she, with playful grace, Loos'd the wide hat, that o'er her face (From Anatolia || came the maid) Hung, shadowing each sunny charm; A mimic shield with pride display'd; Pluck'd off a lance-like twig, and said, Promptly the laughing maidens all And as their glossy locks, let free, Peneus' silver-eddied ** stream! And now they stepp'd, with measur'd tread, Now, to the mimic combat led (A heroine at each squadron's head,) Struck lance to lance and sword to shield With some, of deep but soften'd sound, Who smiling watch'd their children's play SONG. : "RAISE the buckler-poise the lance"Now here now there-retreat-advance. Such were the sounds, to which the warrior boy Danc'd in those happy days, when Greece was free When Sparta's youth, ev'n in the hour of joy, Thus train'd their steps to war and victory. "Raise the buckler-poise the lance"Now here now there-retreat-advance!" Such was the Spartan warriors' dance. "Grasp the falchion-gird the shield"Attack-defend-do all, but yield." liress and intricacy as she can to the figures, into which she conducts her companions, while their business is to follow her in all her move ments, without breaking the chain, or losing the measure." For a description of the Pyrrhic Dance, see De Guys, &c -It appears from Apuleius (lib. x.) that this war-dance was, among the ancients, sometimes performed by females. See the costume of the Greek women of Natolia in Cistellen's Maurs des Othomans. The sword was the weapon chiefly used in this dance **Homer, Il. ii. 753. |