Gently leaning on thy bosom,

Purely white as foam of ocean;
Sweetly listening,

Thy fond warbling,

Gazing on eyes that brightly glistening, Bid me feel deep love's thrilling, thrilling power.

THIS IS THE HOUR WE MEET.

THIS is the hour we meet, we meet,
Beside the ocean's moonlit wave;

To whisper love, fond vows repeat,
While no rude storms around us rave.

The Spring's bright days are sweet, are sweet,
And sweet are Summer's blushing skies;
And when stern Winter's rude storms beat,
'Tis sweet to watch the sea-foam rise.

But Autumn more I love, I love,

Its mellow moonlight's sweet to me;
Oh! happy hour, for then I rove,
Light of my soul, with thee, with thee.

OH! COME TO ME.

OH! come to me, Oh! come to me,
I wait thee in the grove;

Where to the sea

I wake a glee

Of passion-stirring-love:

Bright, oh ! bright, shines the sky above,
To light thee to thy love;

Hasten hither,

And with me rove;

Tell me whither,

Ye stars of love,

My wandering lover strays,

These many lingering days;

Tell him ye winds, his lov'd one kneels, and for her fond

one prays.

Come and join thy voice,

To the music-gushing-streams;

Bid my heart rejoice

By fond love-breathing-themes:
Hie thee from the ocean,

To the grove;
Leaning on my bosom,

Whisper love:

Oh! come to thy fond one,

Where the wild woods are ringing,
To the voice of thy lov'd one,

And Philomel's singing:

Oh! come to me, and bless me,
For thy absence doth distress me.

In the lone silence I await my love,

I hear my throbbing heart beat audibly;

P

Oh! I will die, my passion deep to prove,
For ah! my lov'd one will not come to me :
Thou think'st me false to thee,

So let me die;

Beneath this cypress tree,

Breathe my last sigh;

I wake my latest prayer

Upon the silent air;

For thee 'tis breath'd on high,

Oh! may it reach the sky:

Farewell my fond one, why didst thou forsake me,

Farewell my lov'd one, to my dark

grave betake thee; Sorrow for me there, love, with the deep sigh and the tear, And my spirit still shall bless thee, for ever hovering near.

I LOVE THEE! I LOVE THEE!

I love thee! I love thee! oh! hasten to me,
And listen my vow 'neath the old ivy tree;
And while the gay thrush, pours his song on the air,
Thy lover will weave, with bright flowers thy hair.

I love thee! I love thee! and ever will love,
Thy charms dark-hair'd maiden, all maiden's above ;
They're my joy and my solace, wherever I roam,
In the desert's rude path, on the ocean's wild foam.

Though kindred with anger, on me may look down, And prudes may condemn, or the scoffing world frown;

Yet I love thee! I love thee! and ever will love, My dark-bright-ey'd maiden all maidens above.

MY LOVE SHE BID ME LEAVE HER.

My love she bid me leave her,
With angry frowning brow;

I curs'd the base deceiver,

But oh! I'll bless her now:

For deep and pale's my deathly cheek,
And in my heart reigns woe;

I love the thickest shade to seek,
And hear the rude winds blow:

I love to walk beside the stream,
And think of days gone by ;
Indulge again young passion's dream,
And fervent pray to die.

"TIS EVE, 'TIS EVE.

'Tis eve, 'tis eve, 'tis balmy eve,
And in this grove I sit and sigh;
Sad sorrow makes my bosom heave,

And fond love fills my tearful eye.

I'm absent far, ah! far away,

From all my fond heart holds most dear;
And while thus lonely here I stray,

I wipe away the quivering tear.

I think of days, of by-gone days,

Of early scenes, and that sweet bower;
Where first I heard a lover's lays,

Where first I felt affection's power.

OH! SLEEP HATH FLED FROM MY
WEARY EYES.

OH! sleep hath fled from my weary eyes,

For I'm far from my love, the stream, and the willow, And my dear native cot that recedes from mine eyes, As we stem the rough tide, and dash the rude billow.

And ah! perhaps no more these eyes shall behold,

My dear native land, of the grove and the river; My sweet smiling lov'd one, with ringlets of gold, Who oft in the damp of the night-dew will shiver.

Then can I give rest to these weary eyes,

When there's one whose fond heart with sorrow's o'erflowing?

No! I'll think on the past, and on high shall arise,

A prayer for the lov'd one, whose bright eyes are glowing.