The star of love now shines above,
Cool zephyrs crisp the sea;
Among the leaves the wind-harp weaves
Its serenade for thee.
The star, the breeze, the wave, the trees,
Their minstrelsy unite,
But all are drear till thou appear
To decorate the night.
The light of noon streams from the moon,
Though with a milder ray
O'er hill and grove, like woman's love,
It cheers us on our way.
Thus all that's bright—the moon, the night,
The heavens, the earth, the sea,
Exert their powers to bless the hours
We dedicate to thee.
Well-A-Day!
Love comes and goes like a spell!
How, no one knows, nor can tell!
Now here—now there—then away!
None dreameth where!—Well-a-day!
Love should be true as the star
Seen in the blue sky afar!—
Not here—now there—like the lay
Of lutes in th' air!—Well-a-day!
Should love depart, not a tie
Binds up the heart till we die!—
Now here—now there—sad we stray
Life is all care!—Well-a-day!
Not Married Yet!
I'm single yet—I'm single yet!
And years have flown since I came out!
In vain I sigh—in vain I fret—
Ye gods! what are the men about?
I vow I'm twenty!—O ye powers!
A spinster's lot is hard to bear—
On earth alone to pass her hours,
And afterward lead apes—DOWN THERE!
No offer yet—no offer yet!
I'm puzzled quite to make it out:
For every beau my cap I set—
What, what, what ARE the men about?
They don't propose—they WON'T propose,
For fear, perhaps, I'd not say, "Yes!"
Just let them try—for Heaven knows
I'm tired of single-blessedness.
Not married yet—not married yet—
The deuce is in the men, I fear!
I'm like a—something to be let,
And to be LET ALONE—that's clear.
They say, "She's pretty—but no chink—
And love without it runs in debt!"
It agitates my nerves to think
That I have had no offer yet.