He sleeps far away 'mid the slain, His broken shield pillows his head: The smiles of his children await him in vain- THE MERRY BELLS OF ENGLAND. J. E. CARPENTER.] [Music by J. M. EDNEY. The merry bells of England, How I love to hear them sound Oh, the merry bells of England- To England's brave, in Honour's grave, Shall never pass away.' And oft too ring the village bells To hail the wedded pair, When nuptial vows the twain have bound, There's not a sound can e'er resound Oh! the merry bells of England, As 'mid the shouts their tones ring out- Oh! may they sound, as time comes round On many a happy birthday Of old England's choicest fair, Than a Briton's native music- FAREWELL TO THE MOUNTAIN. T. J. THACKERY.] [Music by J. Barnett, Farewell to the mountain And sun-lighted vale, The moss-border'd streamlet Here a seraph might dwell; Farewell! Oh! farewell! Farewell! for more sweetly Each sound meets mine ear, Hark! their hum, how it blends G. LINLEY.] CONSTANCE. [Music by G. LINLEY, I do not ask to offer thee I brood upon my silent heart, But little have I been beloved, And yet I feel, in loving thee, The wide world is mine own: Thine is the name I breathe to heaven, Thy face steals o'er my sleep, I only ask that love like this May pray for thee and weep. I THINK ON THEE IN THE NIGHT. [T. K. HERVEY.] I think on thee in the night, When all beside is still, And the moon comes out with her palë, sad light, To sit on the lonely hill; When the stars are all like dreams, And there comes a voice from the far-off streams, Like thy spirit's low replies. I think on thee by day, 'Mid the cold and busy crowd, When the laughter of the young and gay Is far too glad and loud! I hear thy soft, sad tone, And thy young sweet smile I see: My heart, my heart were all alone, But for its dreams of thee! NORAH, THE PRIDE OF KILDARE. ANONYMOUS.] As beauteous as Flora Is charming young Norah, [Irish Melody. The joy of my heart and the pride of Kildare; I ne'er will deceive her, For sadly 'twould grieve her To find that I sigh'd for another less fair; Her eye with smiles beaming, What mortal could injure a blossom so rare Where'er I may be, love! I'll ne'er forget thee, love! Though beauties may smile and try to ensnare, Yet nothing shall ever My heart from thine sever, Dear Norah, sweet Norah, the pride of Kildare! Thy heart with truth teeming, Thy eye with smiles beaming, What mortal could injure a blossom so rare CHEER UP! AND KEEP ON, NEVER MINDING. [E. FARMER.] Let sages rave, with visage grave, To prove this world's beyond all bearing, Are left, which make it worth the wearing. Cheer up! and keep on, never minding! One thing's quite clear, no mortal here It may come back again to-morrow. Some warmer, brighter tint is winding; FRIENDSHIP AND LOVE ARE DIVINE. [Music by W. SHIELD.] Let Fame sound the trumpet, and cry to the war," The full tide of honour may flow from the scar, The treasures of autumn let Bacchus display, Let India unfold her rich gems to the view, Oh, give me the friend that I know to be true, |