Volume Iii Part 25 (1/2)

Love is timid, love is shy, Can you tell me, tell me why?

Love, like the lonely nightingale, Will pour her heart, when all is lone; Nor will repeat, amidst the vale, Her notes to any, but to one.

Can you tell me, tell me why Love is timid, love is shy?

RAVEN'S STREAM.

My love, come let us wander Where Raven's streams meander, And where, in simple grandeur, The daisy decks the plain.

Peace and joy our hours shall measure; Come, oh! come, my soul's best treasure!

Then how sweet, and then how cheerie, Raven's braes will be, my dearie.

The silver moon is beaming, On Clyde her light is streaming; And, while the world is dreaming, We 'll talk of love, my dear.

None, my Jean, will share this bosom, Where thine image loves to blossom; And no storm will ever sever That dear flow'r, or part us ever.

OH! OUR CHILDHOOD'S ONCE DELIGHTFUL HOURS.

AIR--_”Oh! the days are past when beauty bright.”_

Oh! our childhood's once delightful hours Ne'er come again-- Their sunny glens, their blooming bowers, And primrose plain!

With other days, Ambitious rays May flash upon our mind; But give me back the morn of life, With fond thoughts twined; As it sweetly broke on bower and hill, And youth's gay mind!

Oh! our childhood's days are ne'er forgot On life's dark sea, And memory hails that sacred spot Where'er we be; It leaves all joys, And fondly sighs As youth comes on the mind, And looks upon the morn of life With fond thoughts, &c.

When age will come, with locks of gray, To quench youth's spark, And its stream runs cold along the way Where all seems dark, 'Twill smiling gaze, As memory's blaze Breaks on its wavering mind; But 'twill never bring the morn of life, With fond thoughts, &c.

COULD WE BUT LOOK BEYOND OUR SPHERE.

Could we but look beyond our sphere, And trace, along the azure sky, The myriads that were inmates here Since Abel's spirit soar'd on high-- Then might we tell of those who see Our wand'rings from eternity!

But human frailty cannot gaze On such a cloud of splendid light As heaven's sacred court displays, Of blessed spirits clothed in white, Who from the fears of death are free, And look from an eternity.

They look, but ne'er return again To tell the secrets of their home; And kindliest tears for them are vain-- For never, never shall they come, Till Time's pale light begin to flee Before a bright eternity!

Could we but gaze beyond our sphere, Within the golden porch of heaven, And see those spirits which appear Like stars upon the robe of even!

But no! unseen to us they see Our wanderings from eternity!

The crimes of men which Heaven saw, And pitied with a parent's eye, Could ne'er a kindred spirit draw In mercy from its home on high; They look, but all they know or see Is silent as eternity!

At noonday hour, or midnight deep, No bright inhabitant draws nigh; And though a parent's offspring weep, No whisper echoes from the sky; Though friends may gaze, yet all they see Is known but in eternity!