REMEMBER ME.

REMEMBER me, when summer friends surround thee,
And honied flatteries gain thy willing ear;
When fame and fortune's glittering wreaths have
crown'd thee,

And all is thine, thy fickle heart holds dear,Then think of her whose changeless fortunes bless'd thee,

When hope was dark, and faithful friends were few, Who, when hard griping poverty depress'd thee, And all beside seem'd cold, was kind and true.

Remember me, in courtly hall and bower,

And when thou kneel'st at some fond beauty's shrine, Ask of the past, if through life's varying hour, Its joys and griefs, her love can equal mine! And when thy youthful hopes are most excited, Should she prove false, and break her faith like thee, Think of the hopes thy wayward love hath blighted, And from that lesson learn to feel for me!

Remember me, and oh! when fate hath 'reft thee,

Of fame and fortune, friends and love, and bliss, Come back to one thou know'st would ne'er have left

thee,

And she'll but chide thy falsehood with a kiss!
But no, no, no, I feel that life is waning,—
That what I was I never more can be,-
That I am fast on that sweet haven gaining,
Where there is rest for e'en a wretch like me!

Remember me! thou canst not sure refuse me, The only boon from thee I've sought, or seek; Soon will the world, with bitter taunts, accuse me, Yet wake no blushes on my bloodless cheek! But I would have thee tender to my fame,

When I have 'scaped life's dark tumultuous sea; And howsoe'er unkinder spirits blame,

As what thou know'st I was REMEMBER ME!

NIL DESPERANDUM.

YES, I am rich in all excuse to mourn
O'er broken hopes of life's deluded prime,
And many a heart-wish from my bosom torn,
And nothing left me but the scorns of time.'
But my firm soul despondence spurns as crime,
And champions Fate to sterner strife, or e'er
It gives the garland up-by all sublime

And restless energies that stir to dare,

Thou shalt not conquer me, dark-blooded fiend Despair!

Though the last canvass of my hope be furl'd,
I was not launch'd to founder in the gale;
But ride the roaring waters of the world,
Till bluer skies, and happier hours prevail,
Then spread the bosom of a bolder sail :

Full many a galley at worse random cast,
That felt the billow and the blast assail,

The tempest hush'd and all its perils past Has moor'd its weary keel on shores of peace at last.

SIX SONGS.

BY MISS LANDON.

LOVE.

OH! yet one smile, though dark may lour
Around thee clouds of woe and ill,
Let me yet feel that I have power,
Mid Fate's bleak storms, to sooth thee still.

Though sadness be upon thy brow,
Yet let it turn, dear love, to me,

I cannot bear that thou should'st know
Sorrow I do not share with thee.

True love's wreath is of mountain flowers, They stand the storm and brave the blast, And blossom on, so love like ours

Is sweetest when all else is past.

Too well I know what storms have frown'd,
And now frown on life's troubled tide;
Still darker let them gather round,
They have no power on hearts so tried.

Then say not that you may not bear,
To shadow spirit light as mine;
I shall not shrink, or fear to share
The darkest fate if it be thine.

CONSTANCY.

OH! say not love was never made

For heart so light as mine;

Must love then seek the cypress shade,
Rear but a gloomy shrine.

Oh! say not, that for me more meet
The revelry of youth;

Or that my wild heart cannot beat
With deep devoted truth.

Though mirth may many changes ring,
'Tis but an outward show,
Even upon the fond dove's wing
Will varying colours glow.

Light smiles upon my lip may gleam
And sparkle o'er my brow,
'Tis but the glitter of the stream
That hides the gold below.

'Tis love that gilds the mirthful hour,

That lights the smile for me,

Those smiles would instant lose their power, Did they not glance on thee!

ROMANCE.

OH! come to my slumber
Sweet dreams of my love,
I have hung the charm'd wreath
My soft pillow above.

The roses are link'd

In a chain pure and white;
And the rose leaves are wet
With the dew-drops of night.

The moon was on high
As I gather'd each flower;
The dew that then falls
Has a magical power.

The Spirit of slumber
Those roses has bless'd;
And sweet are the visions
They'll bring to my rest.

Be their spell on my soul,
So they let me but see
His dark eyes flash in love,
And his smile glance on me.

Let sleep bring the image
Of one far away;

'Tis worth all the tears
I shed for him by day.

I have hung the charm'd wreath
My soft pillow above;
Then come to my slumber,
Sweet dreams of my love!

INCONSTANCY.

How vain to cast my love away
On bosom false as thine;

The floweret's bloom, that springs in May,
Would be a safer shrine

To build my fondest hopes upon,
Though fragile it may be.

That flower's smile is not sooner gone
Than love that trusts to thee.

Love asks a calm, a gentle home,
Or else its life is o'er;

If once you let its pinions roam,
Oh! then 'tis love no more.