Shall gaze upon thy charms;
Come, lady, come away,
And rest lock'd in these arms!
My lady, lady, wake,
Wake, oh! wake!

Oh lady, see! the moon
Her silver chariot stops,
(A list'ning to my tune,)
On yonder green oak-tops!
My lady, lady, wake,
Wake, oh! wake!

My song can make her pause,
But wake and doff that frown,
Nor man's, nor God's great laws,
Forbid thee to look down:
My lady, lady, wake,
Wake, oh! wake.

THE OLD MILL WHEEL.

The old mill-wheel, it turns, it turns
Throughout the livelong day,
And flings the current of the stream,
Abroad in glist'ning spray:
That old, black wheel has turn'd for years,
Beside the mossy mill,
That stands, like some old, sacred thing,
Beneath the clay-red hill.

The old mill-wheel, it turns, it turns
Like time's unresting one,
Which day and night, and night and day,
Hath never ceased to run:
The old mill-wheel, an emblem true,
Of Time that ne'er stands still,
I love to see it turning so,
Beside the mossy mill.

The old mill-wheel, it turns, it turns,
As in my childhood's hour;--
As when I bathed beneath its rim,
In its refreshing shower:
But they who were my comrades then,
Are sleeping on the hill,
And now, to them, forever now,
The old Mill-wheel stands still.

SERENADE.

How sombre is the gloom!
I see no beam of star,
Gleam o'er the garden's bloom,
Or silent wood afar;
So dark the thoughts which shroud
His soul who sings to thee;
Oh lady, cold and proud;
Who scorn'st to think on me;
Lady, lady, wake!
List oh! list.

The firefly lights the night,
A moment and then dies;
The lilacs pine for light,
With sweet and odorous sighs:
So Hope's deceitful beam,
Illumines my despair,
While I still sigh and dream,
With many a sobbing prayer,
Lady, lady, list!
List and smile!

Lo! now the clouds break off,
And heaven once more is free;
The mounts their garments doff,
The mists rise from the sea;
From yonder casement high
She looks, she looks, oh see!
She bends on me her eye
Of heavenly brilliancy:
Lady, lady, dear;
Lady dear!

VIRGINIA HOME OF HONOR.

Oh, home of honor, native land,
When roaming o'er the sea,
The eye still turns, the heart still yearns,
O dearest home, for thee.
When ranged around the social board,
We bid our sorrows flee,
We own a pride that we are sons,
O dearest home, of thee.

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