SONG FOR AIR BY HUMMEL.

OH! if thou wilt not give thine heart,

Give back my own to me,

For if in thine I have no part,

Why should mine dwell with thee?

Yet no! this mournful love of mine

I will not from me cast;

Let me but dream 'twill win me thine

By its deep truth at last!

Can aught so fond, so faithful, live
Through years without reply?

Oh! if thy heart thou wilt not give,
Give me a thought, a sigh?

A FRAGMENT.

REST on your battle-fields, ye brave! Let the pines murmur o'er your grave, Your dirge be in the moaning wave;

We call you back no more!

Oh! there was mourning when ye fell,

In your own vales a deep-toned knell,

An agony-a wild farewell—

But that hath long been o'er.

Rest with your still and solemn fame;
The hills keep record of your name,

And never can a touch of shame

Darken the buried brow.

But we on changeful days are cast,

When bright names from their place fall fastAnd ye, that with your glory past,

We cannot mourn you now.

TO A WANDERING FEMALE SINGER.

THOU hast loved and thou hast suffered !

Unto feeling deep and strong,

Thou hast trembled like a harp's frail string-
I know it by thy song!

Thou hast loved-it may be vainly

But well-oh! but too well

Thou hast suffered all that woman's breast
May bear-but must not tell.

Thou hast wept and thou hast parted,

Thou hast been forsaken long,

Thou hast watched for steps that came not back—

I know it by thy song!

By the low clear silvery gushing

Of its music from thy breast,

By the quivering of its flute-like swell

A sound of the heart's unrest.

By its fond and plaintive lingering,
On each word of grief so long,

Oh! thou hast loved and suffered much

I know it by thy song!