In Airy Dreams

In airy dreams soft fancy flies,

My absent love to see,

And with the early dawn I rise,

Dear youth and think of thee;

How swiftly flew the rosy hours

When hope and love were new,

Sweet was the time as op'nin flow'rs

But ah! as transient too.

The moments now move slowly on,

Until thy wish'd return,

I count them oft as all alone,

In pensive shades I mourn:

Return return my love and charm,

Each anxious care to rest;

Thy smiles shall ev'ry doubt disarm,

And sooth my soul to rest.

Queen Mary's Lamentation as sung by Mr Tenducci at the Panthoeon in London

I sigh and lament me in vain

These Walls can but Echo my moan

Alas! it increases my pain

When I think of the days that are gone.

Thro’ the Gate of my Prison I see,

The Birds as they wanton in Air,

My Heart, how it pants to be free!

My looks they are wild with despair.

Above, tho opprest by my Fate,

I burn with contempt for my foes,

Tho’ Fortune has alter'd my state,

She ne'er can subdue me to those.

False woman! in Ages to come,

Thy Malice detested shall be;

And when we are cold in the Tomb,

Some heart still will sorrow for me.

Ye Roofs, where cold damps and dismay

With silence and solitude dwell,

How comfortless passes the day,

How sad tolls the Evening bell!

The Owls from the battlements cry,

Hollow winds seem to murmur around,

O Mary, prepare thee to die,

My Blood it runs cold at the sound.

[The Death Song of the Cherokee Indians]

The Genie of the Mountains of Balagate

From BALAGATE's waving Brow,

The Genie cast his Eyes below,

Survey'd with grief the hostile Plains,

And thus to Heav'n address'd his Strains.

Here first arose, in early Time,

The beam of Wisdom's light divine;

From hence the stream of Science flow'd,

Though now its Source is lost in Blood.

O, BRAMA! Where is now thy place?

And why, on this devoted Race,

Falls more than weak Slaves can bear?