THERE IS A PANG FOR EVERY HEART.
Air—"Gramachree."
There is a pang for every heart,
A tear for every eye;
There is a knell for every ear,
For every breast a sigh.
There 's anguish in the happiest state,
Humanity can prove;
But oh! the torture of the soul
Is unrequited love!
The reptile haunts the sweetest bower,
The rose blooms on the thorn;
There 's poison in the fairest flower
That greets the opening morn.
The hemlock and the night-shade spring
In garden and in grove;
But oh! the upas of the soul
Is unrequited love!
Ah! lady, thine inconstancy
Hath made my peace depart;
The unwonted coldness of thine eye
Hath froze thy lover's heart.
Yet with the fibres of that heart
Thine image dear is wove;
Nor can they sever till I die
Of unrequited love!
THE FIRST OF MAY.
Air—"The Braes of Balquhidder."
Now the beams of May morn
On the mountains are streaming,
And the dews on the corn
Are like diamond-drops gleaming;
And the birds from the bowers
Are in gladness ascending;
And the breath of sweet flowers
With the zephyrs is blending.