Whose very mirth and cheerfulness
It is that makes me sad.

I love my parents, who so oft
My sorrows have beguiled;
But still it seems a cheerless thing
To be an only child !

I wish I had a sister

Who could kneel with me in pray'r,
Whose little griefs I could assuage,
With whom my joys to share;
Who still would linger by my side,
When slighter friends had flown,
Whose sighs and tears, whose hopes and fears,
Were shared with me alone.

I should be more the child, and less
The thoughtful girl than now;
For happy would the days pass by
And bright would be my brow.
1 then should seem as others seem,
As happy and as wild;
But now I own a lonely heart,
And am an only child!

HARK! THE GODDESS DIANA.

HARK! the goddess Diana
Calls aloud for the chace!
Bright Phoebus awakens the morn!
Rouse! rouse from your slumber,
And for hunting prepare,

For the huntsman is winding his horn!
See-the hounds are unkennell'd,
And all ripe for the chase,
They start to o'ertake the fleet hare!
All danger they're scorning,

And for hunting preparing;

To the field, then, brave boys, let's repair!

THE MINSTREL OF THE TYROL.
J. B. PHILIPS.]
[Music by HENRY RUSSELL.
FROM his mountain land, with his harp in hand,
Came a minstrel youth right merrily;
And he sang the lays of his boyhood days,
When the light of hope shone cheerily.
He sang the tales of his native vales,
And of his father's bravery;

Then with pride he told how his kinsmen bold
Fell nobly, ere yield to slav'ry.

Oh! from his mountain land, with harp in hand,
Came a minstrel youth right merrily;
And he sang the lays of his boyhood days,
When the light of hope shone cheerily.

'Mid a gallant throng did that son of song
Tune his harp, but not so merrily;
For his thoughts would roam to his distant home,
To the green hills smiling cheerily.
With trembling hand, of his fatherland
He sang with such deep emotion;

And a tear-drop came as he breath'd the name
Of the maid of his soul's devotion.

Oh! 'mid a gallant throng did that son of song
Tune his harp, but not so merrily;

For his thoughts would roam to his distant home,
To the green hills smiling cheerily.

LADY DUFFERIN.]

I AM WEARY.

[Music by LADY DUFFERIN. I AM weary! I am weary of the green earth and the

sun,

They are joyful things to look upon when life is but begun!

In the young days, when a flower's breath or wild bird's thrilling tone,

Or the sweet, fresh air of heaven, were happiness alone!

G

I am weary! I am weary! but the long night comes at last!

And the sleep that brings no 'wild'ring dreams, no voices from the past!

The peaceful sleep! when yain regrets and vainer hopes are o'er,

And the looks and tones of other days shall haunt my soul no more!

But the green earth in its beauty hath a mournful look to me,

And a dream of sadness dwells within the voice of stream and tree;

Gone are the kindly looks that made my home a paradise!

Oh, the glorious sunshine is not worth the light of loving eyes!

Who calls thee lone and dark, thou grave! thou art the quiet home,

The holy tryst where parted friends shall meet no more to roam !

Where the sad ones left on this dim earth their long lost dead shall see ;

Not lone! Oh no, my well beloved, ye will be there with me!

THE FALLING STAR.

SAMUEL LOVER.]

[Music by LOVER.

[It is believed that a wish expressed while we see a star falling is fulfilled.]

I SAW a star that was falling,

I wish'd the wish of my soul,

My heart on its influence calling
To shed all its gentle control.

Hope whisper'd my wish would be granted,
And Fancy soon waved her bright wand,

My heart in sweet ecstasy panted,

At the visions were smiling beyond.

Oh! like the meteors,-sweeping,

Thro' darkness their luminous way,
Are the pleasures too worthless for keeping,
As dazzling, but fleeting as they.

I saw a star that was beaming,
Steady and stilly and bright,

Unwearied its sweet watch 'twas seeming
To keep through the darkness of night:
Like those two stars in the heaven

Are the joys that are false and are true,
I felt as a lesson 'twas given,

And thought, my own true love, of you.
When I saw the star that was beaming,
Steady and stilly and bright,

Unwearied its sweet watch 'twas seeming
To keep through the darkness of night.

I WILL KISS THEE INTO REST. [LORD BYRON.]

THIS rose, to calm my brother's cares,
A message from the bulbul bears;
It says, to night he will prolong,
For Selim's ear, his sweetest song;
And though his note is somewhat sad,
He'll try, for once, a strain more glad ;
With some faint hope his altered lay,
May sing these gloomy thoughts away.

What! not receive my foolish flower;
Nay, then I anı indeed unblest :

On me, can thus thy forehead lower,

And know'st thou not who loves thee best?

Oh! Selim, dear, oh, more than dearest,

Say, is it I thou hat'st or fearest ?

Come lay thy head upon my breast,
And I will kiss thee into rest.

CLARIBEL.]

MARION'S SONG.

ONCE in the cool of early morn,

The lark was singing aloud,

[Music by CLARIBEL.

Like a king in state he was high upborne,
His throne was a crimson cloud;

While thro' the air his song was ringing,
Came the sweet sound of Marion's singing,
The echoes listened and caught the strain,
I heard them singing the song again.

Then in the turf the violet sweet
Look'd up at the music rare,

The sunbeams crept to my darling's feet,
And worship'd the singer there.

The lark came down from his cloud to hear her,

The linnet flew up to a briar near her,

The dew-drops clung to her garment's hem,

She sings not now for any of them.

Angels who sing in the heav'ns above
Bent over their harps and smiled;
For me their love was a cruel love,
They robb'd me of my child.

In vain may the lark and linnet listen,
In vain may the sun on the dew-drops glisten,
Now Marion sings to them never,

The angels will keep her for ever.

THE EXILE'S DREAM.

LANGTON WILLIAMS.]

[Music by L. WILLIAMS.

RECITATION.

FAR from the cherished country of his birth,
The exile sleeps beneath a foreign sky;

He dreams-and fancy on her fairy wings

Has borne him back to days, long, long pass'd by.