JEAN INGELOW 320 BURNS 458 T. CAREW 446 J. J. G. WILKINSON 509 WORDSWORTH 42 MATTHEW ARNOLD 471 HERBERT 95 WOTTON 146 BYRON. 21 SUAKSPEARE 160 BEN JONSON 87 SHAKSPEARE 73 BYRON. 377 COLERIDGE 154 COLLINS 459 MILTON 270 SHAKSPEARE 43 ES. H 159 MARVELL 25 BEN JONSON 3 Far have I clambered in my mind Friends, Romans, Countrymen, lend me your ears Full knee-deep lies the winter snow. Get up, get up for shame, the blooming morn Give me my scallop's shell of quiet Goe, happy rose, and interwove Go, soul, the body's guest Grandmother's mother; her age I guess Hail to the chief who in triumph advances Happy, happier far than thou Happy those early days when I Hark, hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings Hark, how I'll bribe you Hath this world without me wrought? Have you heard of the wonderful one-hoss-shay? Hearken in your ear He clasps the crag with hooked hands He is gone- is dust He is gone on the mountains He leaves the earth, and says enough Here is the place; right over the hill Her fingers shame the ivory keys Her finger was so small, the ring He's a rare man He's gane! he's gane! he's frae us torn He that loves a rosy cheek He works in rings, in magic rings of cliance Hope smiled when your nativity was cast How changed is here each place man makes or fills! How fresh, O Lord, how sweet and clean! How happy is he born and taught How many a time have I How many thousand of my poorest subjects How oft when thou my music, music play'st How soon hath time, the subtle thief of youth How young and fresh am I to-night! I am holy while I stand I called on dreams and visions to disclose I came to a laund of white and green. I challenge not the oracle I climbed the dark brow of the mighty Helvellyn If aught of oaten stop, or pastoral song If I may trust the flattering eye of sleep. If men be worlds, there is in every one If this great world of joy and pain If thou be one whose heart the holy forms If thou wert by my side, my love If with light head erect I sing 1 got me flowers to strew thy way I have done one braver thing. I have learned to look on nature I have ships that went to sea. I have, thou gallant Trojan I have woven shrouds of air I hear thy solemn anthem fall I know a little garden close I made a footing in the wall I made a posie, while the day ran by I mind it weel, in early date I'm sitting alone by the fire I must go furnish up Inland, within a hollow vale I stood In sweet dreams, softer than unbroken rest In the frosty season, when the sun In the golden reign of Charlemagne the king In the hour of my distress In the summer even In this world, the isle of dreams In vain the common theme my tongue would shun In what torn ship soever I embark In Xanadu did Kubla Khan In yonder grave a Druid lies I see a dusk and awful figure rise I see before me the gladiator lie I see men's judgments are I shall lack voice: the deeds of Coriolanus. I sift the snow on the mountains below I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers I sprang to the stirrup, and Joris and he Is there for honest poverty Is thy face like thy mother's, my fair child? It don't seem hardly right, John It follows now you are to prove It happen that I came on a day I think not on my father It is not to be thought of, that the flood It little profits that an idle king It's narrow, narrow make your bed It's no in titles or in rank It was fifty years ago It was the season, when through all the land It was the time when lilies blow MILTON. 167 W. CONGREVE 133 WORDSWORTH 333 PATMORE 19 SCOTT 411 N. P. WILLIS 57 BYRON. 211 BURNS 438 STEDMAN 227 BROWNING 224 Lo, when the Lord made North and South Macbeth is ripe for shaking Man, thee behooveth oft to have this in mind Men have done brave deeds Merciful Heaven! Merry it is in the good green wood Milton, thou shouldst be living at this hour Mine honesty and I begin to square Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors Much have I travelled in the realms of gold My gentle Puck, come hither My God, I heard this day My liege, I did deny no prisoners. My lord, you told me you would tell the rest My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun Naked on parents' knees, a new-born child. Nay, you wrong her, my friend No more, no more, Oh! never more on me 2 No splendor 'neath the sky's proud dome November chill blaws lound wi' angry sugh Now is the time for mirth Now is the winter of our discontent. Now overhead a rainbow bursting through O thou who in the heavens dost dwell Now ponder well, you parents dear O Brignall Banks are wild and fair O dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon O dear, dear Jeanie Morrison! O divine star of heaven O draw me, Father, after thee O'er the glad waters of the dark blue sea Oer western tides the fair spring day Of a' the airts the wind can blaw Of all the rides since the birth of time Of Nelson and the North O for my sake do you with fortune chide Oft in the stilly night Of truth, of grandeur, beauty, love, and hope O heavens, if you do love old men O heard ye yon pibroch sound sad in the gale? Oh, have ye na heard o' the fause Sakelde Oh, how much more doth beauty beauteous seem O how feeble is man's power. Oh, weel may the boatie row OI have passed a miserable night O keeper of the sacred key O listen, listen, ladies gay Old wine to drink O Lord, in me there lieth nought O messenger, art thou the king, or 1? O my luve's like a red, red rose Once git a smell o' musk into a draw Once more, Cesario Once we built our fortress where you see O never rudely will I blame his faith One day, nigh weary of the irksome way O Proserpina Or if the soul of proper kind. Orpheus with his lute made trees O Sacred Providence, who from end to end O than the fairest day thrice fairer night O that last day in Lucknow fort O that we now had here O the days are gone when beauty bright O then what soul was his, when, on the tops O thon goddess O thou that swing'st upon the waving ear O! 'tis wondrous much. Our boat to the waves go free Our brethren of New England use BUTLER 501 Our bugles sang truce; for the night cloud had lowered CAMPBELL 2-9 Our revels now are ended Out upon it: I have loved Ont upon time, who will leave no more O waly, waly, my gay goss-hawk O wały, waly, up the bank O ye wha are sae guid yoursel O young Lochinvar is come out of the West Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky. TENNYSON 192 Rise up, rise up, Xarifa! lay the golden cushion down LoCKHART 447 Round my own pretty rose T. H. BAYLY 35 Royal Egypt! Empress. Rudolph, professor of the headsman's trade Ruin seize thee, ruthless king Rumble thy belly full! spit fire! spout rain! Run, shepherds, run where Bethlehem blest appears WILLIAM DRUMMOND Say to me, whose fortunes shall rise higher Say, what is Honor? Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled See how the Orient dew. See living vales by living waters blest See the chariot at hand here of love See yonder souls set far within the shade Send us your prisoners, or you'll hear of it. Shake off your heavy trance Shall I, wasting in despair? She, of whose soul, if we may say, 'twas gold. She's gane to dwell in heaven, my lassie She walks in beauty, like the night Shine kindly forth, September sun Should auld acquaintance be forgot Silence augmenteth grief - writing increaseth rage Silent, O Moyle, be the roar of thy water Since I am coming to that holy room Since our country our God - Oh, my sire! Since the sun Sing, and let your song be new Sing, O Goddess, the wrath, the untamable dander of Keitt Sitting in my window Sleep is like death, and after sleep St. Mark's hushed abbey heard Star of the flowers and flower of the stars Stern daughter of the voice of God Still to be neat, still to be drest Sven Vonved binds his sword to his side Sweep ho! Sweep ho! Sweet country life, to such unknown Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright Sweetness, truth, and every grace Sweet peace, where dost thou dwell Sweet scented flower, who art wont to bloom Take along with thee Take, O take those lips away. Tell me where is fancy bred Tell us, thou clear and heavenly tongue That regal soul I reverence in whose eyes The Abbot on the threshold stood The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold The barge she sat in, like a burnished throne. |