"Thy tears are the tears of the blest, For thou'rt the dark cavalier's bride." No more then, o'er field and o'er wave, Shall that lone beauty's wanderer steer, At the altar of love kneels the brave Joy, joy to the dark cavalier. 1 THE PEERLESS. "O she was lovely as the first-born Eve, "Who hath not proved how feebly words essay HER's is an eye of tenderest blue, And curtain'd o'er with ebon fringe— Her's is a cheek of snowiest hue, In dalliance with the rose's tinge. Her's is a form of cloudless light, Heaven's own elect in mortal guiseHer's are the the tresses blandly bright, Cupid's retreat in lovers' eyes. Her's is a mind so chastely free, That virtue's self might shrine her there Her's is a heart that throbs with glee, As oft it smooths the brow of care. And her's a temper-O it vies With summer ocean's placid sleep, Ere zephyr quits his sunny skies To woo the slumber of the deep. And when at times her lip of love Will swell her harp's mild melody, It breathes of minstrelsy above, Elysium's hallowed euphony. In sooth, to me, she seems to shine A maid of more than mortal birth, A being sent, of holy line, To wander for awhile on earth, C'EST VOUS MA CHERE. (THE COQUETTE'S CATECHISM.) "Expectation whirls me round, The imaginary relish is so sweet, That it enchants my sense-what will it be "He that hath a beard is more than a youth; WHO boasts, I pray, the brightest eye, That pours it's beam on thee Whose lips distil the sweetest sigh, I pr'ythee tell to me. Say who? C'est vous, Once more declare, C'est vous ma chere. Who best, I pray, with magic skill, Can touch the ivory key Who may that fair one be? And who is beauty's radiant queen, I pr'ythee tell to me. Say who? C'est vous, Once more declare, C'est vous ma chere. And last, who claims the happy boon Of fondly tempting thee, TO SHARE a blissful honeymoon, I pr'ythee tell to me. Say who? C'est vous, Once more declare, C'est vous ma chere. |