THE DEEP BLUE WAVE.

Words by F. S. Wallis, Esq.-Music by Pendleton.-Published by Davidson.

THE LILY.

Poetry by J. W. Leslie, Esq.; Music by J. M. Jolly.-Published by Davidson. Moderato

There is a sweet pale flow-er, That oft un-heed-ed blows, And round its na-tive

so-li-tude Its balmy perfume throws. It blooms not in the garden, Nor decks the gay par

terre ; It owns no cul- ti va-tion, But 'tis fra-grant as it's

vest of hum-ble green, Its pearl-y drops lie fold-ed in a vest of hum-ble green. In maiden guise and bashfulness

LOST GERTRUDE.

Poetry by Thomas C. Brabant, Esq.; Music by F. H. S. Pendleton.-Published by Davidson.
Andante non Troppo.

e

Earth, to thy bosom, take in peace This gentle flower of yes-ter day;

Poetry by Charles Mackay; Music by Henry Russell.-Published by Jefferys. Allegro Moderato.

Old Tu-bal Cain was a man of might, In the days when Earth was young; By the

fierce red light of his furnace bright, The strokes of his ham-mer rung;

And he

lifted high his brawny hand On the iron glowing

)

clear,
ad lib.

Till the

sparks rush'd out in scarlet rout, As he fashion'd the sword and spear;

sang, 'Hurra for my handi -work! Hurra for the spear and sword! Hur

ra for the hand that shall wield them well, For he shall be king and lord!'

To Tubal Cain came many a one,

As he wrought by his roaring fire,

And each one pray'd for a strong steel blade,
As the crown of his own desire;

And he made them weapons sharp and strong,
Till they shouted loud for glee,
And gave him gifts of pearls and gold,

And spoils of the forest free;

And they sang, 'Hurra for Tubal Cain,

Who hath giv'n us strength anew-
Hurra for the smith! hurra for the fire!
And hurra for the metal true!'
But a sudden change came o'er his head
Ere the setting of the sun;
And Tubal Cain was fill'd with pain
For the evil he had done:

He saw that men with rage and hate

Made war upon their kind,

And the land was red with the blood they shed
In their lust for carnage blind;
And he said, 'Alas! that ever I made,

Or that skill of mine should plan,

The spear and the sword for men whose joy
Is to slay their fellow man!'

And for many a day old Tubal Cain
Sat brooding o'er his woe;
And his hand forbore to smite the ore,
And his furnace smoulder'd low :

SMILE ON, FOR THY YOUNG DAY IS DAWNING.
Poetry by Leman Rede; to the Music of an Irish Melody, Moore's' Sing, Sing.'

Allegretto.

Smile on, for thy young day is dawn-ing; The world beams for thee in its

rap-ture bursts forth, like the sun up on flow 'rs. Bright as the sky is thine

eye's brilliant beam ing; Light bounds thine heart, as the roe on the moun-tain;

Calm flow thy thoughts, as the sum-mer lake streaming, Spark-ling in joy, like the

spray from the fountain.

Smile on: soon time will a wa ken

Thy

bo som from peace, to o'er whelm it in sad -ness; Thou'lt rise

saken,

· ness.

its wrath and its mad
The lotus awakes from the bright spell that boundit,
And vanishes 'neath the dark waters for ever.
Smile on, for thy young day is dawning;

To feel the world's tempest,
Young dreams, like the bright lotus* growing,
Arise from the stream when the sun kisses ocean,
Bud in his beams, whilst the waters are glowing,
All warm with his smiles in their tremulous motion.
As the cold eve draws in darkness around it,

The flowers of the earth from the sunbeam must

sever,

Bask while you may in joy's roseate light: For soon you'll relinquish your morning,

And sink in the cares of the world's gloom" night.

An Egyptian flower that rises above the stream at sunrise, and sinks at sunset

THE SPIRIT AND THE STREAM.
Poetry by Eliza Cook, to the Music of 'The Old Arm Chair,' composed by Henry Russell.
Andante con Espressione.

The banks of the river were lovely and bright, As the blossoms and

boughs met the sum-mer noon ·

light; The moss hid the flower, the

tree_screen'd the moss, And the willow's thick tres- ses fell sweep-ing a- cross: But

Time took his way on those green banks at last, And pull'd up the

flow'rs and trees as he pass'd;- He stretch'd his cold hand- the white

cot-tage was down, And the spring-y moss wi-ther'd beneath his stern frown.
He trampled the woodbine, and blotted all trace
Of the willow so lov'd for its wave-kissing grace;
But he touch'd not the river-that still might be
found
[round.

Just the same as when beautiful green banks were
The heart, like that water, may quicken and glow,
While rare beauty is seen on the furrowless brow;
It may gayly expand where Love twineth a bow'r,
And faithfully picture the branch and the flow'r.
But Time will soon plough up the forehead so sleek.
He will whiten the dark hair, and shadow the cheek;
The charms that once dazzled will dazzle no more,
But the heart, like the water, shines on as before.
The tide gushes fast, all as fresh and as fair

Vivace.

e

As it did when the alder and lily were there;
The change that has come o'er the place of its course
Has not lessen'd its ripple, or alter'd its source.
And the heart that is beating with Nature and Truth
May outlive some dear images mirror'd in youth:
Some wrecks may be round it, but none e'er shall
find

[kind.

Its 'deep feelings less quick, or its yearnings less
O! the green banks may fade, and the brown locks
turn gray,
[way;
But the stream and the spirit shall gleam on their
For the heart that is warm, and the tide that is
free,

Glide onward unchang'd to Eternity's sea.

w

HURRAH FOR THE GIRL OF OUR HEARTS.

Composed by J. Blewitt.

I've a toast now to give, which, as long as I live, Should my locks with bright

Then the toast then the toast be, Dear

woman, dear woman!' Let each breast that is man-ly approve ; Then the

toast, then the toast be 'Dear Wo-man!

And nine cheers for the girls that we

love! Come, my boys; come, my boys; and nine cheers for the girls that we love!

Bright, bright are the dreams of our earliest years,

And sweet are the scenes of our youth; But brighter fond woman before us appears, And sweeter her love and her truth.

Her voice is the trumpet of gladness,-
Who hears must the summons obey;
Her tear-drop o'erwhelms us with sadness,
But 'tis transport to chase it away.
Then the toast, &c.

OLD DAN TUCKER.

Negro Melody by Henry Russell.-Published in Davidson's uniform Edition of his Compositions.

I came a-cross de o-cean wide, To live wid & gemman on t'o-der side; 'Xpected to breakfast,

dine, and sup, When wid dese harsh words he chaw'd me up

'Git out ob de way,

Git out ob de way, Git out ob de way, Ole Dan Tuc-ker; You're too late to come to supper"

I see a yallow bush-a-belle,
But when I come my lub to tell,
And all de pangs she causes me,
What you tink she answer me?

Get out ob de way, &c.

Sheep and de hog are in de paster,
I go to kill one for de master;
When I kill him dead as a nit,
Dey would'nt let me hab a bit,-

But said, Git out ob de way, &c.

I 'fraid I don't look well a-dancing,
'Cos my legs too much a slanting:
Rub 'em well wid gin and water,
Soon come straight,'- -so says de doctor.
Git out ob de way, &c.
THE FOLLOWING MAY BE

On Nigger hill, as I heard tell,
A darkey woman us'd to dwell,
From New Orleans 1 think she came,
And Misses Tucker was her name.

Git out ob de way, Misses Tucker, &c.

Misses Tucker is eighty-nine,

I dance myself clean out ob sight;
Next morning early my head was found
Sticking upright, an' my body in de ground.
Git out ob de way, &c.

When I ran away one moonlight night,
De proclamation describe me right:
His legs is thin, his ankles fat,—
He has but one eye, and he squints wid dat.
Git out ob de wny, &c.
SUBSTITUTED AS ENCORE VERSES.

Name on de house, and knocker on de door,
De first house ober de grocery store.
Git out ob de way, &c.
When Misses Tucker goes to bed,
She puts a nightcap on her head;
She blows out de light, and shuts up her eyes,
And don't git up till de sun does rise.
Git out ob de way, &c.
Misses Tucker's short and fat,—
Her face is black as my old hat,—
De white ob her eye you can see in de dark-
Her eyeballs shine like de candle-spark.

Git out ob de way, &c.