I challenge not the oracle I climbed the dark brow of the mighty Helvellyn. 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 I got me flowers to strew thy way 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 farnish 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 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 It was the winter wild. It was thy fear, or else some transient wind I wandered lonely as a cloud I watched her face, suspecting germs I wish I were where Helen lies I would that thou might always be John Anderson, my jo, John John Brown in Kansas settled like a steadfast. Just now I've ta'en a fit of rhyme Kings, queens, lords, ladies, knights, and damsels great Knowing the heart of man is set to be SPENSER. 203 517 King Ferdinand alone did stand one day upon the hill LOCKHART'S SPANISH Bal- LADS 300 Merciful Heaven! Merry it is in the good green wood Methought I heard a voice say, "Sleep no more Milton, thou shouldst be living at this hour Mine honesty and I begin to square Mourn, hills and groves of Attica 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 My hother, when I learned that thou wast dead Naked on parents' knees, a new-born child. Needy knife-grinder, whither are you going? No more, no more, Oh! never more on me No splendor 'neath the sky's proud dome November chill blaws loud wi' angry sugh Now is the time for mirth Now is the winter of our discontent. Now Nature hangs her mantle green Now overhead a rainbow bursting through THOREAU 47 36 SHAKSPEARE 152 LODGE 72 ANONYMOUS 307 O. W. HOLMES 499 WARTON 126 CAMPBELL 217 CHAUCER 45 SCOTT 517 185 Now ponder well, you parents dear O Brignall Banks are wild and fair O dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon O divine star of heaven O draw me, Father, after thee O'er the glad waters of the dark blue sea 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. Oh, weel may the boatie row OI have passed a miserable night O joy hast thou a face. 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? Once we built our fortress where you see ́ O never rudely will I blame his faith 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 we now had here O the days are gone when beauty bright O then what soul was his, when, on the tops O then I see Queen Mab hath been with you O thou goddess O thou who in the heavens dost dwell O thou that swing'st upon the waving ear Our boat to the waves go free Our brethren of New England use BUTLER 501 2-9 SHAKSPEARE 521 SIR JOHN SUCKLING 139 BYRON 138 SHAKSPEARE BURNS Our bugles sang truce; for the night cloud had lowered CAMPBELL Our revels now are ended BURNS. SCOTT ANONYMOUS. POPE. SCOTT 482 356 334 271 450 LANDOR 40 183 Queen Bonduca, I do not grieve your fortune MRS. BARBAULD. Rabia, sick upon her bed J. F. CLARKE (Trans.) 140 Rashly; and praised be rashness for it Rambling along the marshes Reason thus with life Remove yon skull from out the scattered heaps. Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky. BYRON Rise up, rise up, Xarifa! lay the golden cushion down LOCKHART Round my own pretty rose. 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 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. Shall I, wasting in despair? She, of whose soul, if we may say, 'twas gold. She's gane to dwell in heaven, my lassie T. H. BAYLY BURNS BEN JONSON 171 192 447 35 521 219 193 She walks in beauty, like the night Shine kindly forth, September sun Should auld acquaintance be forgot. Sitting in my window Sleep is like death, and after sleep So, when their feet were planted on the plain St. Mark's hushed abbey heard Star of the flowers and flower of the stars. Stern daughter of the voice of God 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 Sweet echo, sweetest nymph that liv'st unseen Sweet peace, where dost thou dwell. Sweet scented flower, who art wont to bloom Take along with thee Take, O take those lips away. Teach me, my God and King Tell me not, sweet, I am unkind Tell me where is fancy bred BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER. SPENSER MISS PALFREY J. J. G. WILKINSON BEN JONSON 227 476 518 294 434 417 34 149 87 GEORGE BORROW (Trans.) 328 E. S. H. 339 PUNCH. 500 71 ALLINGHAM HENRY TIMROD BEN JONSON SHAKSPEARE 94 258 441 78 אז The birds against the April wind The bush that has most briars and bitter fruit The curfew tolls the knell of parting day The daughter of a king, how should I know?. The destiny, minister general The earth goes on, the earth glittering in gold The feathered songster Chanticleer The flighty purpose never is o`ertook The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices . The harp that once through Tara's halls. The king called his best archiers The king is full of grace and fair regard The king is kind; and well we know The king sits in Dunfermline town The Lord descended from above The merry world did on a day The minstrels played their Christmas tune The night is come like to the day. The night is made for cooling shade. The night is passed and shines the sun The old mayor climbed the belfry tower The old man said, Take thou this shield, my son" The owl is abroad, the bat, and the toad. 246 447 284 169 202 230 152 161 125 343 SHAKSPEARE 520 JAMES SHIRLEY 167 There are points from which we can command our life P. BAILEY The recluse hermit ofttimes more doth know. There in the fane a beauteous creature stands There is a history in all men's lives There is a mystery in the soul of state There is an island on a river lying There is a pleasure in the pathless woods There is a stream, I name not its name There is a tide in the affairs of men There is a Yew-tree, pride of Lorton Vale There where death's brief pang was quickest. There was a laughing devil in his sneer There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream. Ther is right at the West side of Italy The sea rolls vaguely, and the stars are dumb The sky is changed; and such a change The spacious firmament on high BYRON A. H. CLOUGH WORDSWORTH BYRON |