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.^.  37.^ 


^I^arbarb  Coflcge  library 


FKOM 


.AuguBtUB.  P.l«rlng  Jr. 

^ Bob  ton 


The 
Oxford  Book 
Of  English  Verse 
T^5•o— 1900 


The 

Oxford  Book 

Of  English  Verse 

115-0—1900 


FROWDE 

EDlNflURGM 
NEW    VORK 


The 

Oxford  Book 

Of  English  7erse 

II  yo- 1900 

Chosen  &  Edited  by 
A.  T.  Qmller-Couch 


Oxford 

At  the  Oarendon  Press 

I  901 


\0.H^H.31.'^ 


Printtd,   crmpa    Swi 

(an  Imdinfaptr), , 

cdf  8i/a  (on  Ii 

Impreriion, 

ImfTtiih. 


tnan  o-uoj  Ftbrintiy   igox 


OXKWD :  Houo  aua,  tuirrai  to  nu  uaii-iuitit 


TO 

THE  PRESEDEin' 

FELLOWS  AND  SCHOLARS 

or 

TRINITY  COLLEGE  OXFORD 

A  HOUSE  OF  LSARNING 

ANOEMT  UKRAL   HUMANE 

AND   MY    MOST  KINDLY  NURSS 


<-^ 


or 

nsorxn  ^tj.;.i.i'.',>  'fizir.r 


PREFACE 


» 


FOR  this  Aodtflcf  J  1  hare  uied  to  range  am  ilie 
whdlr  6dd  of  EngGih  Vene  from  tJ>c  bc^iaonig,  or 
froin  tlie  ThirtMnih  Ccototy  to  ihtt  cloang  year  of 
ihr  Niaetccoth,  aad  to  cboorsc  itie  brsi.  Nor  birc  I  »o<^ht 
m  tb«r  Isliaib  only,  but  whemoi-Ter  the  Muw  bu  felloiKd 
ifce  UogMT  whicb  unung  Itriog  tongue*  tbe  most  dflights 
eo  boaoor.  To  bring  homr  ■&(!  rcudn  so  gmt  a  «]<oil  com- 
frwftOQily  b<B  bees  my  c^ilul  difficulty.  It  ii  for  ibe 
nwia  to  judge  if  I  tuiie  »  maatgvd  it  »  lo  wrrc  those 
wIm  idfudy  [ore  poetry  and  to  imiibiit  dm  Iotc  to  Moie 
)nin4  niad*  ooi  yet  initialed. 

My  scbemr  b  HmjJe.  I  h»n  vnngcd  ibc  poets  tti 
^sfly  «*  potuble  is  wdet  of  bwth,  «iifa  tudt  grospingt  or 
woeynou  fitcef  >s  scnBtd  eoovmiem.  Foe  coovenirace, 
no^  am  *eH  ■>  to  iiold  a  dis]>ute-royal,  I  hive  gathered  the 
^■•t  of  tl»  BatiMb  into  the  middle  of  the  Seientecnth 
Cnanry;  «hrrc  tbcy  fill  a  Ungnid  intrmi  betvccn  two 
«fads  trf^  BfprMtoa — ibe  lalian  dying  down  wiili  Mihoo 
aad  tlic  Pmcb  fbllowtng  at  the  Wis  of  the  mtmvd 
Roya)t*ts.  For  commicnce,  again,  I  baw  set  myself  ontatD 
l^n  of  sicllitig.  In  the  ivry  eailicu  poems  bflectioa  and 
tn  Mrucuml,  nd  to  mockniiie  is  to  destroy,     fiat 

*n 


I  c&scntu]' — should  breslhc  of  something  rarer  t 

limngRncQt  cf  type.     But  there  &re  sdioUrs  <4 

M  expect  10  »gtt€  witii  me ;  md  u>  coaciibtc  thcia 

peed  SpenMT  aod  Millon  fn>ni  llic  rule. 

losKS  of  ucbuc  und  <iibcrwi*c  difliculi  wordi  ai^ 

foot  of  tbe  page:  but  tlic  test  hu  not  bem  dil 

rerereDoe-Burk».     And  rtiher  than  make  Lbv 

eldj  1    h»e  eschewed   ooies — reluctantly   whni 

tire  pottage  or  allusion  seemed  to  avk  for  a  timeljr 

\  note  «^<»aimity  when  the  tcRiptatiDn  «■»»  to  c 

■ppKOaic/     For  the  fuoclioa  of  the  anthologist  i 

iiiing  b  silence. 

pre  has  beea  taken  with  the  text*.  But  I  have  sot 
Uu  it  comiucnt  with  the  aim  of  the  book  to  pre 
t  beautiful  to  the  better  attested  reading.  I  b«v 
ted  neik  or  superlluous  stanzas  when  »u(c  thai  i 
|ii  improic;  and  have  not  hesitated  to  extract 
pu  from  a  long  poem  when  persuaded  chat  the 
I  aJo«>e  ai  a  lyric.  The  apology  for  such  cxpt 
pnly  lie  io  their  success :    but  the  risk  is  one  w! 


PREFACE 

Ik  mnbcn  duMo  are  oiber  Ijrncal  or  cfoj^uunatic. 
Uad  I  an  iiiiiiihn  if  a  uit|^  cptgraia  iodudcd  fiils  to 
fB«it  ir  Ins  MiDe  tdati  thiill  of  die  «moQOO  thioa^ 
•ikk  it  bad  to  foaa  bdbn  tbe  Mum's  Dps  let  it  &li,  wiili 
tenrn  nu^ucute  ddifaaAioo.  But  the  lyrical  siont  b 
■Ue  md  DDianously  ttaid  to  bind  with  ddatitiam ;  and 
WIII0QW  wiUn  viih  tbc  jorb  With  the  aotixilogiit— 
■  «k  Ar  fi**""""  wbo  kaom  tbe  fi&h  at  ifac  end  of  hh 
Ksfac— ibe  ^&,  if  be  bare  it,  cones  by  scom,  nofitDTCd 
kf  fmeitti.  The  ddiaitian,  if  be  be  derer  eooogh  to  fnuae 
^  OBM  bf  afiM-(lisag)M>  t  don't  know  tiut  ii  hetps, 
ui  an  MR  that  it  msy  easily  mi<lfiid. 

Birisg  set  iRjr  bean  on  choonog  the  best,  I  lesolved  not 
«  k  i1iiiiiiil<i1  t^  ooonaoo  objcctaoos  sgunst  Rnthologics — 
ibtbcyRfcsieaesooithct  uatil  the  ponth  fit  ^  rptt  t&  koAb 
Im  d  sffliesaoo— or  penwfecid  if  my  judgrmoit  shooU 
A*  i|^  nth  that  of  good  critics.  The  best  is  the  best, 
^Blb  a  hiiliiit  judges  ban  declared  it  so  i  aor  had  it 
ta  ay  fca.  m  scwtb  o«t  and  inial  the  second-taie  meiely 
^Vn  it  hqfyentd  to  be  recooditc  To  be  sure,  a  nun 
■■  CMS  IB  such  a  ta&k  as  mat  luunud  by  bii  youth  sad 
<^  fcwitea  he  lond  io  days  wbm  he  bad  nmch  eoihusiasin 

'A  deep0  teiport 
Larks  In  lb*  Itpui  told  m;  tntuu  yean 
Tbas  Um  apoB  that  mth  «■  llvi  to  Icam.' 

Pi*  tt  Vff  caaiau]>oruies  can  erase— or  would  vi^b  to 
-the  dy«  ibctt  miods  took  from  the  bic  N(r.  Palgtavc's 


PREFACE 


fraiB   Ms  tiwB  workt,  lad    Irtiv   to   use  hh 
Qhm  Amert  Langnto  i    U  Messn.  MactnlUia  lor  i 
fMnnismo  for  xhe  exinca  (ram  PitzGcrald,  Cbrbtim  Rosxo^ 
and  T.  E.  Brown,  md  partimliirty  for  allowing  me  to  ins 
the  latett  emendations  m  Lord  TmnyMn'*  non-copyrij 
[)o«i»ii    to  the  proprietors  of  Mr.  and   Mrs.    Browmag 
oopyrighu  uid  to  Meura.  Snuth,  Elder  ft  Co.  for  a  me 
fanwr,  also  for  a  copyright  poem  by  Mrs.  Btonraiag; 
Mr.  George  AUea  for  extracts  from  Ruskin  and  the  autl 
of  /wuea  t  to  Messra.  G.  Bell  ft  Sons  for  poems  by  Tho 
Albe]  U  Mesm.  Chatto  ft  Windus  for  poem*  by  Ar 
O'Shangbnessy  and  Dr.  George  MacDotnld,  ititd  for  co 
firming  Mr.  Bret  Hull's  permission  i  to  Mr.  Elllin  Matbe 
for  a  poem  by  Mr.  Bliss  Cxnnaai    to  Mr.  John 
for  two  poems  by  William  Brigbiy  Rocdtj  to  the  So 
for  Promoting  Christian   Knowledge  for  two  extracts  fn 
Cbristiai  Rossetti'e  t^trjtt  g  and  to  Mr.  Bertram  Dobcll, ' 
allows  me  not  only  to  select  from  James  Thomson  but  to  < 
a  poem  of  Traheme's,  a  seventeenth -century  singer 
covered  by  him.    I  mu«  beg  tho  fot^vcoess  of  any  one  1 
rights  I  hare  orerlookcd.     To  mention  all  who  in  other  waj 
have  funlMTcd  me  b  not  possible  m  this  short  Prefacej 
which,    however,    muff    not  conclude  without  a  woid 
special  thanks  to  Professor  F.  York  Powell,  whose  help  and 
wise  counsel  have  bera  a;  generously  gircD  m  they  wer 
eagerly  sought,  adding  me  to  the  number  of  those  numy  wh 
have  (bund  bis  learning  to  be  his  friends'  good  fortune. 

A.T.Q.C. 


Cuckoo  Song 

cna» 

CUMER  is  icumen  in, 
*^     Lhude  sing  cuceu ! 
Groweth  sed,  and  bloweth  med, 
And  sprittgth  the  wude  nu — 
Sing  cuccu! 


Awe  bleteth  after  lorab, 
LhouCh  after  calve  cu ; 

Bulluc  steiteth,  bucke  Terteth, 
Murie  sing  cucu ! 


Cuccu,  cuccu,  well  singes  thu,  cuccu  i 

Ne  swike  diu  narcr  nu  ; 
Sing  cuccu,  nu,  sing  cuccu, 

Sing  cuccu,  sing  cuccu,  nu  I 


^«^\  lond.         Bwe]  ewe.         Itiouth]  loweth.        Kerteth]  leapi. 
iwiktjceajf. 


ANONYMOUS 

2.  ^lisoti 

D  YTIIENE  Merahe  SDt  AtciiI 

When  spray  IngiaDcth  to  spring, 
The  lutel  foul  hath  hire  wyl 

On  hyic  lud  to  synge: 
Ich  libbe  in  loTC-lon^ng? 
For  seinlokest  of  alle  thjnge, 
He  may  me  blisse  bringe, 

Ichain  in  hire  bandoun. 
An  hendy  hap  idubbc  y-bent, 
Ichot  ftota  hercfK  h  is  me  sent, 
From  alle  wymmen  my  lore  is  lent 

Ant  lyht  on  Alisoun. 

Od  hcB  hire  her  is  Ayr  ynoh, 

Hire  tvowe  brotme,  hire  eye  hlake; 

With  lossom  cbere  he  on  me  loh ; 
With  middel  tmal  ant  wel  y-makei 

Bote  he  me  wolle  to  hire  take 

For  to  boen  hire  owen  make, 

Long  to  lyren  ichulle  foreake 
Ant  li^  iallen  adotm. 

An  heody  hap,  etc. 

Nihtes  when  I  weode  and  wake, 
For-thi  myn  wonges  waxeth  won ; 

on  hjn  \nS\  in  her  language,  Ich  libbc]  I  lire.  lemlokeit] 
■eemliett.  he]  ihe.  baodoaiij  thraldom.  heud}']  giactoo). 
r-heni]  (ciied,   enjoyed.  ichot]  I   wot  Ijbt]  aligbtcd. 

hire  her]  her  hair.  lonom]  lomome.  loh]  laughed, 

bote  he]  luileis  she.        make]  mate.        feye]  liLe  to  die.         nihtes] 
at  Digbt.         wendc]  tum.         for-thi]  on  that  accoiut,  wongei 

waieth  won]  cheeki  gioir  win. 


ANONYMOUS 

LcTcdi,  al  for  thine  sake 

LoDginge  is  y-lent  me  on. 
Id  world  his  oon  so  wyter  mon 
That  al  hire  bounti  telle  con ; 
Hire  swyie  is  whittore  than  the  swoo, 

Ant  fcymt  may  in  touae. 
An  heady  hap,  etc. 

Icham  for  wowyng  al  for-wake, 

Wcry  so  water  in  wore ; 
Lest  any  reve  me  my  make 
Ichabbe  y-yemed  yore. 
Beteie  is  tholien  whyle  sore 
Then  moumen  evennoie. 
Geynest  under  gore, 
Herkne  to  my  roun— 
Aq  heady  hap,  etc 


J.  Spring-tide 

I   ENTEN  ys  come  with  love  to  toune, 
^  With  blosmen  ant  with  briddes  roune, 

That  ai  this  blisse  bryngethj 
Dayes-eyes  in  this  dales, 
Notes  suete  of  nyhtegales, 

Vch  foul  song  sbgeth  ; 

>.  levedi]  Udy.  j-loil  me  on]  arrived  to  me.  lo  wyter  mon]  to 
ue  ■  man.  >*T'e]  neck.  ma;]  mild.  for-vrakc]  worn  out 
ith  vigiU.  lo  wMcr  in  woic]  u  water  in  ■  weir.  rcvc]  rob, 

■jreincd  ^re]  long  bcm  diilrcurd.       Iholien]  to  enflure.        ^tyuoit 
^er  gore]  comclieM  under  woman's  appareL        luuu]  talc,  la/. 
y  to  tooDCj  in  iu  Eum. 

I 


.  IJOU 


ANONYMOUS 

The  ihrcttlfcoc  him  thretcih  oo^ 
Away  is  liurrc  vyatcr  wo, 

When  wodcreTC  springrih; 
Tliis  fouJcs  tin^tth  (ttly  Mr, 
Ant  wlytrtb  on  huere  winter  wcic, 

That  al  the  wode  ryngcUi 

The  rose  wylcih  hire  rode. 
The  IvTCs  on  the  lyhle  wode 

Waxen  al  with  willc ; 
The  monc  mxiidcih  hire  bleo, 
The  lilie  is  luiaoni  to  xq, 

The  fenyl  ant  the  fillci 
Wcrwes  lhi»  wilde  drakn, 
Milci  mur^eth  hucrc  hiaIcc*  ; 

Aw  xtirm  thai  sti-ikcili  ttille^ 
Mody  moieth ;  so  doth  mo 
(Ichot  yc^iam  on  of  tho) 

For  loiK  tim  likes  ille. 

The  monc  mandcth  hire  lyhi, 
So  doUi  the  senily  uiane  biyht, 

When  briddes  HD^ctJi  bremct 
Deaweit  donketh  the  dounei, 
Deotcs  with  hucrc  demc  raunes 

Domes  Tone  deme; 

him  tbitlelh  oo]  ii  mjt  chldisg  lli«ni.      hueic]  Ibeir.      (rodetove] 
woodrafl.        fcr!y  fdc]  nmrrelloM  many.  «lyl«th3  whittle,  or 

look.  rajlelh  hue  Tode)  dothci  heneU  in  tod.  maodclh  lili« 
tileo]Mnd*fiiiili  hci  tight.  louom  tatco]  liyrcMUne  to  mc  ti\lt] 
thym*.  w«w«tj  •mfo.  tnlln]  loatM.  iniir||;eth]  make  merry, 
makei]  r»1«*>  attikMli)  Sowu  triclilM.  noily  mcnettil  ibe 

noodymanmakninoaa.  to  ilMhiDo]  Mxlaiiuar.  on  of  tho] 
iMenltiitm.  bc<mc!  Iiu'ily.  dri<rcsld«vra.  d«nkethlmake 
disk.  ikorei]  dean,  1c>ren.  hucre  dcme  roocesl  thcii  tecict 
Ulc*.        docaes  forte  dtmej  lor  to  (ive  (decide)  their  dcddoo*. 

4 


ANONYMOUS 

Wormes  woweth  under  doude, 
Wymmeo  waxeth  wounder  proude, 

So  wel  hit  wol  hem  seme, 
Yef  me  ahal  woDCe  wilje  of  on, 
This  wunne  weole  y  woie  forgon 

Aot  wyht  in  wode  be  fleme. 


Blow^  Northern  W^ind 


C  IJOu 


TCHOT  a  butde  in  boure  bryht, 
^     That  fully  seraly  is  on  syht, 
MeDskiid  maiden  of  myht ; 

Feir  ant  fre  to  foode; 
In  al  this  wurhiiche  won 
A  burde  of  blod  ant  of  bon. 
Never  yew  y  nuste  non 
Lussomore  in  londe. 
Blou  northeme  wynd ! 
Send  thou  me  my  suetyng ! 
Blou  oortherne  wynd  i   blou,  blou,  blou  I 

With   lokkes  lefltche  ant  longe. 
With  frount  ant  face  feir  to  fonge. 
With  murthes  monie  mote  heo  monge, 
That  brid  so  breme  in  boure. 

J.  clonde]  clod.       wozine  weole]  wealth  of  joy,       y  wolc  forgon] 
I  «ill  foreo.        wyht]  wigbt.        flenicl  banithed. 

4.  Ichot]  I  know.  bunle]  moideu.  menikful]  wonhipfal. 

feir]  fair.  focde]  t*ke,  proTc.  wurhlicbe]  noble.  won] 

Dsllitiide.         y  niule]  I  knew  not.         laisomore  in  londej  lorelier 
m  euth.  laetyngj  iweeihe«rt,  lefliche]  lovely.  foi>8*l 

uke  between  handi.         murthe*]  mirlhi.  joyi.         mote  heo  monge] 
duy  ibe  mingle.        biid]  bird.        brcme]  full  of  life. 

5 


ANONYMOUS 

With  lossom  eye  grete  ant  gode, 
With  bmwcD  Uyafol  noder  hod^ 
He  that  reate  him  od  the  Rode^ 
That  leflych  Ijf  honourc. 
Bloo  Dortheme  wynd,  etc 

Hire  line  lumes  liht 
Ase  a  laimtenie  a  njht, 
Hire  bleo  blykyeth  ao  biyht, 

So  feyr  heo  is  ant  fyn. 
A  snetly  awyre  heo  hath  to  holde, 
With  aitaea  shuldre  ase  mon  wolde, 
Ant  Sngres  feyie  forte  folde, 

God  wolde  hue  were  myo ! 
Elou  Qortheme  wynd,  etc 

Heo  is  coral  of  godnesse, 
Heo  is  rubie  of  ryhtfiilaesse, 
Heo  is  crista]  of  clannesse, 

Ant  baner  of  bealtS. 
Heo  is  lilie  of  largesse, 
Heo  is  parvenke  of  prouesse, 
Heo  is  solsecle  of  suetnesse, 

Ant  lady  of  lealtS. 

For  hire  love  y  carke  ant  care. 
For  hire  love  y  droupoe  ant  dare, 
For  hire  love  my  hlisse  is  bare 
Ant  al  ich  waxe  won, 

Rode]  the  Ctok.        Inie]  face,        lamei]  beami.        blco]  colour 
fuctly  swjie]  dirling  neck,  forte]  for  to.  hue,  lieo].ihe. 

clanDcsse]  cleumm,  puity.  parveuJcc]  periwinkle.  tolaedc] 

iunllowcr.  won]  wui. 

6 


ANONYMOUS 

For  hire  lore  in  slep  y  slake, 
For  hire  love  al  nyiit  ich  wake, 
For  hire  love  moumynge  y  make 
More  then  eny  mon. 

Blou  northeme  wynd! 

Send  thou  me  my  suetyng! 

Btou  northeme  wynd !   blou,  blou,  blou  I 


c  lyo 


;.  This  World's  Joy 

W^TNTER  wakenrth  al  my  care, 
Nou  this  le»es  waxeth  barei 
Ofte  I  nke  ant  moume  ure 

When  hit  cometh  in  my  thoht 

Of  this  wotldes  Joie,  hou  hit  goth  al  to  ooht, 

Nou  hit  is,  and  nou  hit  nys, 

Al  so  hit  ner  nere,   ywys  ; 

That  mont  mon  seith,  soth  hit  ys: 

Al  goth  bote  Codes  wille : 

AJIe  we  shule  deye,  ihah  us  like  ylle. 

Al  that  gren  me  graueth  grene 
Nou  hit  faleweth  albydene : 
Jnu,  help  that  hit  be  sene 

Ant  shild  us  from  helle ! 

For  y  not  whider  y  shal,  ne  hou  longe  her  duellc. 

/.  thii  lev»]  tbete  \t».ttx.  aike]  ligh.  nys]  is  not.  >1  so  hit 
Mr  ntre]  ai  though  it  hid  nevei  been.  sothj  looth.  bote]  but, 
ucept.  tbih]  though.  bleweth]  fadeth.  albfdene]  altogether. 
IMt  whidei]  1  koow  not  whither.        hei  dnelle]  beie  dwell. 

1 


P" 

ANONYMOUS                            H 

^^^1             6.             A  Hymn  n  the  Virgin                   ^| 

^^^H  Bngtittr  (bxi  the  day  b  light,  ^^| 
^^^^B  Partus  It  fiatlla  t  ^^^k 
^^^^K                         Ic  crie  to  Uie^  thou  «e«  to  me,                            ^^| 

^^^^H  LcTcdjr,  pnyc  thi  Sonc  for  ^^| 
^^^^P  Tom  ^^^k 
^^^H                            TbM  ic  note  cooie  to  thM                                   ^^| 

^^^^B                                                    Mono,                                             ^H 

^^1                                AJ  tilts  world  wax  far-loiv                                     ^H 

^^^L^                           Tyl  our  LonI  ■vha  y-bore                                      ^H 

^^^^H  ^f  b  gtnttrirt.  ^H 
^^^^H  With  inv  it  vi»y  ^^1 
^^^^P                           Thuiicr  nyih  and  coinz  ihv  ilijr                            ^H 

^^^M                         The  wclk  spriogcth  ut  of  thc^                            ^H 

^^^^^B                         Lcndy,  flour  of  allc  thing,                                    ^^M 

^^^H                            Thu  brrc  Jhew,  hcvrnr  king,                                 ^H 

^^^^^ft                                                           Gratia  i£vina  t                                     "^H 

^^^B                           Of  xlle  tliu  ber'M  the  pris,                                     ^H 

^^^^B                           Lvvvijy,  tjucne  uf  pamdys                                      ^^U 

^^^F                             Maydc  milde,  modcr  tt                                          ^^^ 

^^1                on]  one.            levtd; )  Udy,            OiuiUrl  duk.            prii]prii«.^H 

^^L                                                   ^1 

ANONYMOUS 


'.  Of  a  rost,  a  love!y  nse. 

Of  A  rosf  is  al  mjn  smg. 

J  ESTENYT,  lordyngw,  both  tWc  ud  jynse, 
*-•     How  this  rose  began  to  sptyngc] 
Soycb  ■  n>M  M  oiyn  l;k)rnf;e 

Is  a]  tliik  word  ne  knowe  I  nan. 

Tbc  Autijtil  onw  Iro  bevcnc  tour. 
To  grew  Muyc  *iih  grei  honour, 
And  STfile  Bcbe  xuld  bm-  ttic  flour 
Tim  xuldr  ttrcke  U>e  ijn^a  bond. 

The  flov  qiroog  in  beyv  BnUcm, 
Tint  is  botbe  bryhl  snd  vchra: 
Tbr  rose  a  Mary  hnaie  qwyn, 

Out  of  bm  bourn  ihc  bloime  sprang. 

TIn  ftniK  bnusclw  b  ftil  of  loyht, 
TbM  fpoBS  oa  CyncctoMsc  nybt, 
llv  MTTTV  Khon  over  Bedim  brytit 
Tlut  it  boihe  brad  lod  long. 

The  tccunde  hncnche  »prong  U>  hellr, 
The  fcndy*  paver  doun  lo  fellc: 
TlMTtia  (Djht  non  wwie  d<nlte; 

Btjruid  be  the  liiiK  tlie  loee  >proagl 

Tfx  thrtddc  bfaonche  is  £ood  «bA  iw-oce, 
Ii  ifnnjt  to  be*«nc  nop  and  rote. 
TWnrin  to  dwellyo  ud  ben  out  botet 
Efny  di/  it  (chcwit  ia  [«y«ct  bood. 

:[  Mm.     «imll  mfU.     nU)  thoald.     idiml  bcMttful 
f*]«)  hM*t»'«  [|»ww.       bMc)  talnlMS. 


ANONYMOUS 

Prcf  we  to  heie  with  gret  honour, 
Che  that  bar  the  blyssid  flowr, 
Che  be  our  hdpe  and  our  socoor 

And  schyd  ua  fro  the  fyndei  bood. 


ROBERT  MANNYNG  OF  BRtJNNE 
8,  Traise  of  ff^omm 

talo-i 

^JO  thyng  fs  to  man  so  deic 

^  ^      As  wommanys  lore  in  gode  manure. 

A  gode  woounan  b  mannys  bljrs, 

There  her  lore  right  and  atedfast  j^ 

There  ys  no  solas  under  berene 

Of  alle  that  a  man  may  nevene 

That  shulde  a  man  so  moche  glew 

As  a  gode  wonunan  that  lovi:th  tnic. 

Ne  derer  ts  none  in   Goddis  hurde 

Than  a  chaste  wonunan  with  lovely  worde. 


JOHN  BARBOUR 
p.  Freedom 


di 


A    I    Fredome  is  a  noble  thing  I 

Fredome  mayse  man  to  huif  liking ; 
Fredome  all  sobce  to  man  gitlis, 
He  livis  at  ese  that  frely  livis  1 
A  noble  hart  may  liair  nane  ese, 
Na  eljys  noeht  that  may  him  plese, 

8.  nevene]  name.        glew]  gladden.       lianle]  flock.       ^.  liLi 
libetlf.        na  city*  nocht]  not  anj^ht  elie. 


JOHN  BARBOUR 

Gif  hedoate  Cui'th ;    for  (rt  liluqg 
la  jrfaaran  owr  M  othir  thing. 
Na  be  that  ay  lus  lint  &e 
Kay  nocht  kiuvr  wcU  iJie  pn))>crti^ 
The  angcf,  na  the  wretcliit  doooi 
That  ii  cuupGt  to  foul  tlmldocne. 
Bat  pi  Ite  lud  asMjit  it, 
Then  all  perqueT  he  suld  it  wit; 
And  Mild  think  frnJotnc  mar  to  prise 
ThaD  all  the  guld  in  warld  that  a. 
TluM  axxrar  tbingis  cvcnaar 
DiicowcriDgis  of  the  tothif  are. 

GEOFFREY  CHAUCER 

RT  Tie  Lew  Unfcig}Kd 

r'\  YONGE  fi«she  folli-s,  lie  or  she, 

^^     lu  which  that  lore  up  growtth  with  youf  ^, 

Rejjeyiwh  boom  from  worldly  raniiM:, 

Awl  of  your  bnte  up-cuicth  the  viaage 

To  ihilkc  sod  that  afier  his  image 

Yuw  madr,  and  thinketb  al  cuS  but  a  fayre 

This  world,  that  pasaetb  nnc  as  dourci  f^yrc. 

And  Imcth  him,  tbe  whkh  that  right  for  tove 

»Up(M  a  croa,  oar  sosles  (or  to  beye, 
Ftnt  siarf,  and  roos,  and  ail  to  hevene  a-bo*e  g 
For  he  nil  lidieti  tui  wight,  dar  1  stye, 
1'hat  wol  bis  hcTtc  J  boolly  on  hini  leyc 
Aad  KD  br  best  to  love  is,  and  laoiit  imlur, 
¥rhat  Dokth  fcynvd  loves  fur  to  sekef 

yharatl]  yoned  lot.  perqnei]  ihotOBfhly,  by  bean. 

n{wyntb]  n^MU  y%,         naifj  dlsd. 


■HO  M  400 


GEOFFREY  CHAUCER 

U  YD,  Absokw,  thy  gUte  tressea  ckre ; 

^  ^     Eiter,  ley  thoa  tbj  ladcDesw  al  s-<Iaiui  | 

Hyd,  Jonatbas,  al  thy  IrnuIIy  nuDcre ; 

Penalopee,  and  Marda  Catonn, 

Mak  of  your  wyfhod  do  compuiMnn ; 

Hyde  ye  your  beames,  Isoode  and  Eleynei 

My  lady  cometh,  that  al  thia  may  disteyDc. 

Thy  faire  body,  lat  hh  nat  qiperv, 

Lavyne;    and  thou,  Lucrease  of  Rome  toun, 

And  Pdixene,  that  boghten  lorc  so  den^ 

And  Cleopatre,  with  al  thy  pasuoun, 

Hyde  ye  your  trouthe  of  lore  and  your  renotm  t 

And  thoo,  Tisbe,  that  hast  of  Iotc  swich  peyne; 

My  lady  cometb,  that  al  this  may  disteyne. 

Herro,  Dido,  Laudoniia,  alle  y-fere, 

And  Phyllis,  haoging  for  thy  Demophoun, 

And  Canace,  cspyed  by  thy  chere, 

Ysiphilc,  betraysed  with  Jasoun, 

Makedi  of  your  trouthe  neydicr  boost  nc  soun ; 

Nor  Ypennistre  or  Adriane,  ye  tweyne  j 

My  lady  cometh,  that  al  this  may  disteyne. 

tz.  tJMerciles  Beaute 

A  Triple  Roundel 

I.   CAPTIVITY 

VOUR  eyen  two  wol  slee  me  sodenly, 
■^      I  may  the  bcautS  of  hem  not  sustene, 
So  wouodeth  hit  through-out  my  herte  kene. 

«,  dUteyne]  bedim.  r-fere]  tocetl'e''- 


GEOFFREY  CHAUCER 

And  htf  jtMT  wornl  irol  helen  ImsIiI]' 
My  hmn  woundc,  wbjl  ibn  hit  b  gncDr, 
Your  qnm  two  wol  slot  mc  9odi.-iilj, 
I  aaj  the  beauti  of  bem  not  aasuot. 

U[Oii  tny  iroatlw  I  tty  yow  fcithfiilly, 
Ttut  yr  bra  of  n;  lyf  ind  dwili  tlie  tptoej 
For  mill  iBf  dccth  ifae  troutbe  ftlial  be  wac. 
Yoni  r]ren  tvo  wol  &1r  iik  Md«oly, 
J  nuf  the  bcacii  of  Ikoi  not  tiuCcnc', 
So  wpaodcth  hit  iJuou^h-oui  my  hcite  kcne. 

9.   KXJICTIOX- 

So  hath  fooi  haatk  fn  four  h«ne  chaccd 
Peer,  that  mc  oe  anileth  not  to  plcyor; 
Foe  I>»nsR  \iA  your  mncy  in  hh  dbcyne. 

C3i]a  tttf  dccth  thus  bin  ye  rec  purctuccdj 
t  w/  yow  tooth,  roe  nedeth  not  to  fcyncj 
60  hath  yauf  bc;)utt  (io  your  hrtir  chKcd 
Fitec,  that  mc  or  arnlcth  not  to  pkyw. 

Aflvl   that  DatuTT  hath  ia  yow  compaMrd 
8a  pttt  btauii^  lliat  no  man  nuy  aucyne 
To  mercy,  though  he  stnre  for  the  fieyne. 
So  luih  your  beauti  fio  your  herte  chaced 
Pit«,  tliat  oie  oe  araileth  not  10  pleync; 
Ffir  DxMign  hah  your  mercy  in  his  dieyne. 


U>1 


5.    tSCAft. 

Sin  I  fro  Lore  eaca^cd  am  >o  fat, 

I  oevcf  thei^  to  ben  in  his  priMo  Icnei 

S«a  I  am  fnc,  1  cuonte  him  00c  a  beet. 


GEOFFREY  CHAUCER 

He  may  answere,  and  seye  tliis  or  that ; 

1  do  no  fors,   I   spekc  right  as  I   mene. 
Sin  I  fro  LoTe  escaped  am  so  fat, 
I  never  thcnk  to  ben  in  his  prison  lene. 

Lore  hadi  my  name  y-strike  out  of  hii  idi^ 
And  be  is  strike  out  of  ray  bakes  dene 
For  ercr-rao;   ther  is  non  other  mene. 
Sin  I  fre  Lore  escaped  un  M  fit, 
I  nerer  theak  to  ben  in  his  pcison  lenet 
Sin  I  am  fret,  1  counte  him  not  k  beob 


THOMAS  HOCCLEVE 

13.  Lament  fir  Chancer  t^%.^^ 

A  LLAS !   my  worthy  maister  honorable, 
■^^     This  londes  Tcrray  tresour  and  riehesse  I 
Dethe  by  thy  dethe  hath  harm  irreparable 
Unto  us  done :   hir  Tengcable  duresse 
Despoiled  bath  this  lond  of  the  swetnesse 
Of  rethoryk  ;    for  unto  Tulltus 
Was  never  man  so  like  amonges  us. 

Also  who  was  heyr  in  philoso^ 

To  Aristotle  in  our  tunge  but  thou  \ 

The  steppes  of  Virgile  in  poesye 

Thou  folwedest  eke,  men  wote  wel  ynow. 

That  combre-worlde  that  my  maister  slow — 

Wolde  1  slayn  were  I— Dethe  was  to  hastyf 

To  renne  on  thee  and  rere  thee  thy  lyf  .  .  . 

ra.  aclat]  ilate.  j}.  bert]  heir.  combie-worlde] 

encuiaberCT  of  earth.  ilow]  ilew. 


THOMAS  HOCCLEVE 

She  nught  han  tamed  hir  mgance  ■  whyte 
Til  that  some  mao  had  egd  to  thee  be; 
Nay,  let  be  that!    she  knew  wel  that  this  yle 
May  nerer  man  brin^  fortfae  like  to  thee. 
And  her  office  cedes  do  mote  she : 
God  bade  hir  do  so,  I  tmste  (or  the  bestej 
O  inaister,  maister,  God  thy  soule  restel 

JOHN  LYDGATE 
14.  yex  ultima  Crucis 

^^  i|)o  >-iMl 

■  I  ^ARY  DO  longer;    toward  thyo  heritage 
^       Haste  OD  thy  way,  and  be  of  right  good  chere. 
Go  cch  day  onward  on  thy  |nlgrimage ; 
Thynk  how  short  time  thou  shah  abyde  here. 
Tliy  place  is  bigg'd  above  the  sterres  clere. 
None  erthly  paleys  wrought  in  so  statiy  wyse. 
Come  on,  my  frend,  my  brother  most  enterel 
For  thee  I  otfred  my  blood  io  sacryfice. 

KING  JAMES  \  OF  SCOTLAND 

IJ-.  Spring  Song  of  the  Birds 

'WT'ORSCHIPPE  ye  that  loveris  bene  this  May, 

"^       For  of  your  bUsse  the  Kalendis  are  begoaae. 
And  BDg  with  us,  Away,  Winter,  away! 

Cum,  Somer,  cum,  the  suete  jesoEln  and  sonnet 
Awake  for  schame !    that  have  your  hevynais  woone, 
And  amorously  lift  up  your  hedis  all, 
Thank  Lufe  that  list  you  to  his  merct  call  I 

14.  bi£g'd]  built.  P^eji]  palMC  'S-  >°etc]  iwccL 

LdrlLoTC 


MQ-I9W 


ROBERT  HENRYSON 

irf,  /tohin  and  K^iakyne 

ROBIN  Mt  on  gud«  Kiwa  bill, 
Ktp>u)d  a  flock  of  fe : 
Miny  Makyn  uid  him  till 

*  Robin,  thou  rew  o«  me : 
I  Kiif  thf«  luvit,  loud  snd  sull, 

Thir  ytiris  twa  w  thrcj 
My  dulc  in  dcm  bot  gif  thou  dill, 
Douileu  but  drcid  [  dc.' 

Robin  answerit  '  By  the  Rude 

N>  ihing  of  luvc  I  knaw. 
But  ktipi»  mjr  shrip  undir  yon  wud ; 

Lo,  <^ulutr  ihi^y  mik  un  raw. 
Quhit  hu  roarrit  thee  tn  thy  mudc 

Makyn  to  me  thou  shaw ; 
Or  quhat  is  Iutc,  or  to  be  lude? 

Faia  vrad  I  leii  that  law.' 

'At  luiis  liiir  K'f^  ihoo  will  Irir 

Tak  ihair  aoc  A  DC; 
Be  beynd,  couium,  and  fair  of  (eir, 

Wy  w,  hardy,  and  free : 
So  that  Qo  danjer  do  thee  deir 

Quhat  dule  in  dern  thou  drc; 
PiTuis  thee  with  pain  it  all  powdr 

Be  patient  and  previe.' 

krp*nd}  keeplnff.  U\  tWp.  otitic^  him  tUll  to  1 

tliiU  III  dern]  tonow  In  m<iM.        dill]  loollie.        but  d<eld],i 
dttail,  I- 1.  Ihcre  li  do  (e*i  or  dnuLi.  rt!k  os  raw]  <init«  I 

TOW.        lodcl  loTetl.        Iciil  Icun.         Uii]  loit.        hcjmdt  e<Blte 
Wi)  dtmeuioat.       drill  Oaonl.      dn]  <Di!urt.       preiw)  «ntIc»oa 
•a 


ROBERT  HENRYSON 

RoUn  answent  hir  ■gane, 

'I  wti  not  qvhit  is  toTc; 
But  I  hut  tntntl  in  cnaine 

Quliai  makis  ihn  this  wsnni&i 
*nw  weddii'  is  ^,  xod  I  mi  &ioj 

My  *bt<p  gm>  hail)  aboif; 
And  vre  <nld  ptry  us  in  this  plMM^ 

Tbef  watd  n  bihh  rrproif.' 

'Robin,  tafc  tent  untu  my  ulc, 

An<l  wirfc  «lt  M  I  icid. 
And  thou  sail  luif  my  hurt  all  hail), 

Eilc  and  my  maidra-hcid : 
Sen  God  miGs  bute  Tor  bail!, 

And  for  mujnyng  rnnnd. 
Id  dcni  vitb  ihtK  bot  gif  I  iaJe 

Dowtlr»  I  wn  bot  dcid.' 

*Makyit,  to-morn  tlus  \\\*  tyde 

And  ye  wiD  oiht  mc  heir, 
HcnvnHure  my  shop  may  gang  btiyde 

Quhylc  we  haii*  liggit  (uQ  oaf ; 
Bm  mawjfc  tiatf  I,  ud   I  byd«, 

Pn  th«y  bc^in  to  urir ; 
Quhu  1^  on  hean  I  will  nochl  hyd  ( 

Makyn,  then  mak  gudc  cheir.* 

'RoUq,  thOQ  rdna  mc  roitf  and  rent 

I  lure  boi  thee  aUane.' 
'Mikyn,  ailinil    ihr  ww  (qc*  wett. 

The  day  it  oett-hand  giwe.' 

h)  nnntt.  hatUl  beaJtbjr,  «lii>t;.  iboif)  aborr,  ap 

pMilir  a»J]  Ml,  If.  uk  loii]  gire  bceiL  ligie  fo*  balltl 

tmrn^f  tM  k«L  bM  fU]  bu  If,  Mie**.  aui«i[iei  lUaill 

(•I  Ua  aMMo).  itiib]  rotiboL  loifl]  (|ulel. 


I  sicht  and  that  full  s.iir.' 
'  M^kyn,   I   half  been  here  this  (juhylc; 

At   hanie  God   gif  I   weir.' 
'My   huny,    Robin,   talk  ane  qubyll 

Gif  thow  will  do  na  mair.' 
'  Makyn,  sum  uthir  man  begyle, 

For  hamewart  I  wUI  fair.' 

Robin  on  his  wayis  went 

As  light  as  Irif  of  ut  i 
Makyn  muniit  in  hir  intent, 

And  trowd  him  nerir  to  ae. 
Robin  brayd  attour  the  bent: 

Then  Makyn  cryit  on  hie, 
'Now  may  thow  NOg,  for  I  am  scbentl 

Quhat  alis  lufe  at  me  J' 

Makyn  went  hame  withowttio  fail, 

Full  wery  efUr  cowth  weip; 
Then  Robin  in  a  fUl  fair  daiU 

Assemblit  all  his  scheip. 
Be  that  sum  part  of  Makynig  aill 

Out-throw  his  hairt  cowd  creip ; 
He  fallowit  hir  fast  thair  till  assaill, 

And  till  her  tuke  gude  k«p. 

>eset  Icmiaau]  miitmi.  licbt]  ^gh. 

her  inward  thoueht  briyd]  itiode.  beni]  < 


ROBERT  HENRTSON 

'Abfd,  tbyd,  tbow  har  Mabpi^ 

A  word  fat  ony  diing; 
For  lU  my  Inrc,  it  sail  be  diyo^ 

irf  xtDcytnim  iipjfBitiiiFi 
All  haiB  tlij  haiit  fir  dD  huf  myne 

Is  ul  tttf  cuvAjag ; 
My  schcip  to-mom,  qohjlc  bouris  nyn^ 

Will  acid  of  ut  kepiag.' 

'Robin,  tbiTv  lies  hsrd  sonng  and  ay, 

Id  gcsas  aod  aoRis  ndd, 
Tlw  man  thai  win  oodK  qobni  be  way 

Sail  haif  nocht  qnhm  he  wald. 
I  pray  to  Jesu  erery  day, 

Mot  eik  thatr  cairis  cauld 
That  first  preissis  with  thee  to  yhy 

Be  firth,  foiT^st,  or  bM.' 

'Makyn,  the  nicht  is  soft  attd  dr-. 

The  weddir  is  wantie  and  far, 
Aod  the  grene  woid  rycht  ncir  la  ivi 

To  walk  attour  all  quhor: 
Thatr  ma  na  janglour  us  e^. 

That  is  to  lufc  contnir; 
Thunn,  Makyne,  baith  ye  tai  I, 

Unsene  we  ma  repair.' 

*  Robin,  that  warld  is  all  rwrj. 

And  quyt  brocht  till  itjc  cad : 
And  nerir  agane  thneto,  pM&r. 

Sail  it  be  as  thow  wend; 


hard]  heard.  feitii]  romaaeet  arx  iSt,  mtj  -tM  H 

bt]  by.         jangloor]  talebeam.  -mnXl  vteae'l. 


ROBERT  HENRYSON 

For  of  my  pane  thow  maid  it  play 

And  all  in  vnne  I   spend : 
As  thow  hes  done,  sa  sail  I  say, 

"Mume  on;    I  think  to  mend." 

'  Makyn,  the  howp  of  sll  my  bnt)^ 

My  haiit  qd  thee  u  sett; 
And  ninnair  to  thee  be  Idll 

QiMl  I  may  leif  but  lett| 
Nerar  to  &ill  as  utheiu  fall, 

Qnlutt  grace  that  erir  I  getL* 
'Robin,  with  thee  I  will  nocht  dEtD) 

Adieu  I    for  tha  we  men.* 

Makyn  went  hame  biyth  anneuche 

Attour  the  holttis  hair} 
Rotno  muniit,  and  MaVyn  leache; 

Scho  sang,  he  sichit  sair: 
And  30  left  him  baith  wo  and  wreuch, 

In  dolour  and  in  cair, 
Kepand  his  bird  under  a  huche 

Amangts  the  holtis  hair. 


17.  The  BluJy  Serh 

■ymS  binder  yrir  I  hard  be  tald 
^      Thair  was  a  worthy  King  % 
Dulcis,  Erlis  and  Baironis  bald. 
He  had  at  his  bidding. 

s6,  howp]  hope.  but  tett]  witbont  hindrance.  ■luienc^l 

cnoDgh.  holtlihair]  gref  wDodlandi,  Icncbe]  laag  cd. 

wrench]  peeriili.  huche]  heoch,  difi^ 

ij.  binder  ]relr]  lait  yeat. 


ROBERT  HENRYSON 

Tbe  Lofd  was  anctan  ml  aid, 

Aad  tntj  yciris  cowib  ring; 
He  had  ■  il&chirr  flit  lo  did, 

A  luUf  Lady  yiug. 

OfT  all  fairtieid  (cho  bor  th«  flotiri 

And  cik  faif  fadem  airt 
Off  lu«t^  bins  and  be  boeour, 

Mrik,  twt  aod  debonair: 
Scho  wynmt  in  a  tii^lj  boor, 

On  foU  wcs  nane  $0  bir, 
Princis  Ivrit  lur  pmnxHir 

Ib  cuiiOMi  our  lUauhairi 

TbMT  dwch  a  lyt  buyde  the  King 

A   feoU  Gya&d  of  anc; 
StoUin  he  ha»  llur  Lady  yii^, 

Away  with  hit  »  ganc, 
And  knt  her  in  his  diinj^og 

Qiifaaii  Ucht  xho  audit  m:  naoei 
HnD^ir  aad  cwld  and  £nt  thristicg 

Sdio  fan!  into  htr  waioe. 

He  wes  the  EaithBnt  on  to  Mt 
Thai  od  tlie  gmnd  mycfat  gang  1 

K«  nailia  wcs  lyk  ane  heUia  cruk, 
TWrwitli  lyvc  ijaaitcib  Ungf 

ita^RlpL.  UUi^atolA.  TkicljtnDc.  riUheld)  bcinir- 
I  kalr.  bkk)  naaMn.  Kbo  nyaalil  ibe  dmti.  Iitclj) 
L  l»U]aHth.  puKDcwl  1»riael)r.  o*r  allipiliKlrl  ■!) 
■odJom.  alylbdj^ejaliitlc,  |I.e.  <lo*e)bcMr.  of  uie) 
■■7.  fcartJoM.  i>ui|;eiliii:)  duui^coii.  IMO  hk  «*1db|  in 
rlodfiBc.       hdUi  cnk)  bril<l>w. 


ROBERT  HENRYSON 

Thair  wea  otat  tim  he  ourtuJc, 

In  rydit  or  irit  in  wnsg, 
Dot  all  ia  iclvumlir  he  thasie  schuk, 

Thv  Cyjad  wcs  so  uaog. 

He  held  the  Lady  diy  Jind  oycfat 

Within  his  dcq)  duogcoun, 
He  wald  Docht  glf  of  hir  a  siclit 

For  g<^  not  jrit  ntoioim — 
Bot  gif  thv  King  mycht  get  a  kaycht. 

To  tedit  wi:h  hit  pcrsouD, 
To  fccht  with  him  bcth  day  and  nycht, 

Quhill  anc  wet  duo^  doun. 

The  King  pit  leik  buth  fa  and  oat, 

Beth  be  *c  and  bnd, 
Off  ooj  knycht  gif  he  mychi  heir 

Wild  fccht  with  th«  Gptad: 
A  worthy  Prince,  tlmt  had  no  peir, 

lies  tine  the  ddd  on  haod 
For  the  luve  of  the  Lady  cldr, 

And  held  full  trew  cunnand. 

That  Piince  come  ptowdly  to  the  louil 

Of  that  Gyand  W  heir, 
Aod  fjwcht  witli  liim,  hh  awin  per»un. 

And  tuke  him  pTMoneir, 
And  kctt  him  in  hi*  awin  duogcomi 

Alluic  wiihoutcn  fcir, 
With  hungir,  cJuld,  and  cooiuMoan, 

As  full  wciU  worthy  weir. 

■M^       <Tungin  donn]  IwaittQ  down.        lib  «wla  ptnonn] 
wiQiouleii  Icitj  wiliMut  OMBpaoiiua. 


M 


ROBERT  HENRYSON 

Syne  bnk  the  boor,  b*d  hude  the  bricfat 

UiHo  ha  (adu  he. 
Sa  vTtll  wondit  wt«  (be  Knydtt 

Tlut  he  bchuvk  to  dc; 
UnluMm  waa  his  lilunic  diclii, 

His  satk  ms  all  bJudyi 
In  all  the  wocM  was  thjur  a  wkh^ 

So  pctcOttvi  for  to  sef 

T)ir  Lady  muniyt  and  maid  grit  mane, 

Wiiii  ill  bcr  mckill  mycht— 
*I  lurit  anir  [afv  bot  anr, 

That  dulTully  now  is  dichlf 
God  erti  ray  lyfc  w«e  fia  me  tine 

Or  I  had  wen  yonc  ncht, 
Or  ellis  in  begging  e<rir  to  gaoe 

Futfa  with  yooc  cunvs  linycht.* 

He  said  'Fair  bdy,  now  inoae  I 

D«  imlly  yc  me  trow. 
Take  jc  my  scrk  thai  is  hUidy 

And  hiflg  h  forrow  yow, 
Ftm  think  on  !t  and  sync  or  tne 

Quheo  men  cuims  yuw  lo  wow,' 
The  Lady  caid  *  Be  Mary  fre, 

Thairto  I  mak  a  row.' 

Quhcii  that  Scbo  lukit  to  the  saA 

Scbo  tbocht  on  the  persouti, 
And  ptajit  for  him  with  all  htr  hart 

That  kwat  hir  of  boculoaa, 

(bB  faridrtl  (h<  Ulr  OM.  Ukanc]  bod;.  lowili  hit  U 

■]  looNd  hat  from  iknldom. 


ROBERT  HENRYSON 

QuhatT  scho  we%  woot  n  tit  fiilt  mctk 

InU)  that  6af  dttngraua; 
Atxl  crtr  <(dull  iclio  wcs  in  ({ucn, 

Tb»  wcss  htr  a  Icuoua. 

Si  wcill  t)ic  L»dy  luvit  the  Knycl* 

Thit  no  mta  wild  scho  uk : 
Sa  Bald  we  do  our  God  of  micht 

That  did  all  Tor  lu  m.-ik; 
Quhitlc  fullity  to  tlcid  wajt  dichl, 

For  »d)uU  manit  salt, 
S>  luld  tre  do  brth  iiy  and  nycfat, 

With  prayans  to  him  male 

This  King  i^  lyk  the  TrinitO, 

BaUh  in  hciin  and  heir ; 
The  mania  muJc  u>  the  Ladj-, 

The  Gyind  lo  Luccfuir, 
The  Knyclit  to  Cbrysi,  tliai  delt  oo  ire 

And  cofl  our  synnis  deirt 
The  {lit  to  Hde  with  panb  fell, 

The  Syn  to  the  wowcir. 

Th«  Lady  was  wowd,  but  a^o  said  nay 

With  men  that  wa)d  Mr  wedt 
Sa  mid  we  wryth  all  Stn  away 

ThiU  in  our  breist  a  bred. 
I  pray  to  Jesu  Chryst  verray, 

For  wa  bis  Uud  that  bled, 
To  be  our  help  on  domisday 

Quliair  tawia  ar  sttaitly  led. 

•pert]  priaoa.       cnAJ  bovgbL       atontlr  led]  Mtktlj  i 


ROBERT  HENRYSON 

The  saule  is  Godis  ilrichtir  drir. 

And  eik  his  hanilewcrk. 
That  was  betnyit  with  Lucefeir, 

Quha  sittis  in  hetl  full  mnk: 
BoiTowh  with  Chryiti*  an^HI  'Inr, 

Hold  men,  will  je  ttitJM,  iwnfe  ^ 
And  for  his  lufe  that  \01ntx  m  'fatr 

Tbiok  on  the  BcLbir  ftusi 


WILLIAM  UL'XftAK 

^WEET  rots  of  TW*»  Mfi  '4  ^nAWrw,. 
*^    Delftsuin  UI7  rf  -r*-™  jiafj-wn. 

Richest  in  Iatjur  wl  jk  'nr^  ':*iif. 

And  ererje  »*r.rT  vje  .t   ••rtir.  Ira^ 
Except  oolie  trjc  74  uk  xrs-.<-fv-. 

\wD  yoor  pri  tii*  ■ia^  I  <uC  y^ »-» ; 

There  s»w  I  Zf.-^ra  ^.x.  ;"-j-^*    n-r.'  V  i^n : 

Bahh   C-J'.TV;   km?    r-^    iv,flf.    i,-f.i    nr^.    /,    r:'-^ 
And   ia>V,«i-    '.rr-j:    i.^^.    a-iJ.c  ir-'*^'' - 

Yet  leaf  Bi6«-  ii-w  iv:  vvjrt  I  iis#r  -/  f^r. 

I    itfJX.   ''-^    34trVj'-    *-f:V    HK    '-rJ.i     Jjki'j;.    4^:;1* 

Has  iiji=  ri^j   jmr.;    -jr-,    '.■;rf-   T   -y  iu«* 


WILLIAM  DUNBAR 

ip.       Tn  Honour  of  the  City  of  London 

T  ONDON,  thou  art  of  townea  A  per  u. 
^•^  SoTcraign  of  cities,  seemliest  in  sight, 
Of  high  renouD,  riches  and  royaltie ; 

Of  lordis,  barons,  and  many  a  goodly  knyght; 

Of  most  deleoable  lusty  ladies  bright ; 
Of  famous  prelatis,  xa  habhis  dericall ; 

Of  merdiauatis  Itill  of  substaunce  and  of  myghtt 
London,  thou  an  th«  flour  of  Cities  all. 

Gladdiih  anon,  thou  lusty  Troy  Doraunt, 

Citie  that  some  tyme  cleped  was  New  Troy; 

In  all  the  erth,  imperiall  as  thou  stant, 

Pryncesse  of  townes,  of  pleasure  and  of  joy, 
A  richer  resdth  under  do  Christen  roy; 

For  manly  power,  with  craftis  natural!, 

Fourmeth  none  fairer  sith  the  flode  of  Noy : 

London,  thou  art  the  flour  of  Cities  all. 


WILLIAM  DUNBAR 


Vhm  mattf  s  iugt  doA  faile  tntJ  row  whh  an  g 
^Vkoc  tnasf  ■  ihip  doth  mt  with  top-iojrall. 

0,  tDWTtE  of  towncs !    patraoe  »d  not  compan', 
XiOadoo,  tlioo  art  the  floor  of  C'taa  oil. 

Vfoa  dij  hitter  Biiggc  of  pylm  white 

Decn  werchttMitfa  Ml  royiil]  to  behold; 
Upos  thy  nmts  goth  nusjr  a  fcnxlj  knjntbt 

la  *d*«  go«i>cs  <nd  in  cheyna  of  goJd. 

By  Julyus  Cnu  ihy  Tonr  fooodrd  of  oU 
Ui;  be  the  boos  of  Mars  naorjiU, 

Whote  aniUuy  with  toa|e  may  oot  be  told : 
Lwidaa,  ibou  an  the  fiooi  of  Cidc*  all. 

Smog  he  ihy  walEs  ihK  aboot  the  ttsndisi 
W(K  be  the  people  that  witlun  the  dwellk; 

Fmh  b  thy  lyvcf  with  hb  luuy  Mrandist 
BGib  bv  thy  durchra,  wcle  fowByBg  be  thy  bell!*] 
Rkh  be  thy  iiMtebatiiuis  in  tJosuiact  that  rxceUif  i 

Fitf  be  tbrir  wires,  lifltA  lovHom,  while  lad  ieuUi 
Ocre  be  ihy  tiriiyns,  latty  under  krlUs: 

L«Ddoci,  ittfu  an  the  flow  of  Cities  alL 

Thy  (tnMS  Mciie,  by  peyocely  f>0TenMUfice, 
tt'iih  *«md  of  jnttice  tbec  nileth  pnidently. 

Ho  Lotd  of  Pwy«.  Vrnyce,  or  FtonoDce 
In  &spitym  or  honour  g:>'ih  to  hym  fitgh. 
He  i»  cxcBifJrr,  loodc-Mer,  and  goyct 

Pnoopal)  patranc  and  me  oryjyulle, 

Abot*  aU  Mam*  n  mainer  miMt  vonhyi 

Loodoo,  tboa  art  the  Bour  of  Cidct  alL 


Ml 


•mU]  iloidw. 


ktlUi)  hooda,  hMd-dreMec 


The  cleir  Sodc,   quhom  no  cloud  dtvouris, 
Surmounting   Phi-bus  in   ihf   Est, 
Is  cumin  of  his   iK'vinly  touris;  — 
£l  nobis  Putr  nalut  est. 

Archaogellis,  angellis  and  dompnationis, 

TroniSf  potestatis  and  marteiris  seir, 
And  all  ye  hevinly  operationis, 

Ster,  planeit,  fiimament,  and  sphelr, 

Fire,  erd,  air  and  water  cleir, 
To  Him  gife  \anag,  most  and  lest. 

That  come  in  to  so  roeik  nianeiri 
Et  nobu  Putr  ttatat  ttl. 

SyDDacis  be  glad,  and  penance  do. 
And  thank  your  Maker  hurtiully ; 

Pot  he  that  ye  micht  nocht  come  to 
To  you  is  cumin  full  humbly 
Your  soulis  with  his  blood  to  buy 

And  loose  you  of  the  fiendis  anest — 
And  <mly  of  his  own  merc^; 
Pro  Moiu  Puer  natu*  uU 

AU  dergy  do  to  him  ioclyne, 
And  bow  unto  that  bairn  benyng, 

Aod  do  your  obserrance  diryne 
To  him  that  is  of  kingis  King: 


WILLIAM   DUNBAR 

Encmse  his  altar,  read  and  sing 
In  holjr  kirk,  with  mind  degest, 
Him  honouriog  attour  all  thing 
Qui  luHt  Purr  nattu  at, 

CekMul  foulis  in  the  air, 

Sing  wih  your  notris  upOD  hicht. 
In  firthia  and  in  foirestis  fair 

Be  myrthful  now  at  al!  your  mycht| 

For  pasut  is  your  dully  nicht, 
Aurora  has  the  doudis  perst, 

Tht  Sone  is  risen  with  glaidsum  licht, 
Et  noiit  Putr  nahu  at. 

Now  spring  up  flouns  fra  the  rate, 

Rerert  you  upward  naturaly, 
Id  honour  of  the  blissit  fnite 

That  raiss  up  fro  the  rose  Mary  j 

Lay  out  your  levis  lustily, 
Fro  deid  take  life  now  at  the  lest 

In  wirschip  of  that  Prince  worthy 
Qui  noiii  Purr  natal  etl. 

Sing,  henn  imperial,  most  of  hicht  I 

Regions  of  air  mak  annony ! 
All  fish  in  flud  and  fowl  of  flicht 

Be  mirthful  and  mak  melody ! 

All   Gloria  in  rxerlj'it  cry  I 
HeaTen,  erd,  se,  man,  bird  and  best, — 

He  that  is  crownit  abone  the  sky 
Pro  noiii  Putr  nalut  al ! 

Utaa]  oTcr,  above.  pei^t]  pierced.  rain'  ttae. 


WILLIAM  DUNBAR 


21,  Lament  for  the  Makers 

T   THAT  ID  heill  was  and  gladnfiss 

■^  Am  tniblit  now  with  great  sickness 

And  febiit  with  inlinnitie ; —        .^^=^ 

Tmmt  Mvr6t  temturial  mit   ■ 


Oar  jdesuce  here  is  aU  tob  ^orf. 
This  (bIb  world  is  but  tmistory, 
The  flesh  is  brockle,  the  FeTod  m  dce^— 
Ihur  Mtrtii  trntiwriai  me. 

The  Btite  of  mm  does  change  sad  my. 
Now  soond,  now  sick,  now  Uyth,  now  ^ij. 
Now  danand  nuciy,  now  tike  to  die:— 
Tmot  Jaoflu  toKtiffvat  sv. 

No  state  ID  Erd  here  standis  sicker; 
As  with  the  wynd  wavis  the  wicker 
So  wannis  this  world's  vanitie : — 
Timor  Morlu  coiUurtal  me. 

Unto  the  Death  gois  all  Estatis, 
Pnncis,  Prelattis,  and  Potestatis, 
Baith  rich  and  poor  of  all  degree: — 
Timor  Morlii  eeniurial  me. 

He  takis  the  knichtis  in  to  the  Reld 
Eoamiit  under  helm  and  scheild; 
Victor  he  is  at  all  mellie : — 

Timor  Mortit  coBturhal  me. 

beill]  health.        hmckle]  biitcle,  fteble.        lice]  1)7.        duuud] 
Atoaag.  sickei]  wait.  wicker]  willow.  wannli] ' 

mellie]  meiU^. 


WILLIAM  DUNBAR 

">(  KiDog  aninercifiil  tynod 
''^  en  the  motheris  breast  sowluod, 
^  babe  full  of  beoignide: — 
Timer  Mortis  eonturbal  me. 

"t  tatis  the  camfHOD  io  the  stour, 
''<'  ca|)taia  dosit  in  the  tour, 
^  lady  ui  bour  fiiU  of  bewtie : — 
'hmor  Mortit  conturhat  me, 

™  ^airis  no  lord  for  hU  piscencr 
fjl  clerk  for  his  iDtelligcace ; 
'"'  awfui  straik  may  no  maD  flee: — 
Tnwr  Mortis  toattirhaJ  me, 

^''Va^QxiaA  and  astrologis, 
^'''Hiiis,  logimnls,  and  theolo^s, 
ioetn  helpis  no  conclusioms  slee ; — 
Timor  Mortis  eonturbal  me, 

'"  niedeciiie  the  most  practicianis, 
Lctchis,  sarrigUnis  and  physicianis, 
Thtmself  from  Death  may  nocht  supplee ! — 
Timar  Mortii  coaiurbai  me, 

I  )M  that  makaiis  amang  the  lave 
rbyis  here  their  padyoois,  syne  gois  to  grave  t 
Sparit  is  nocht  their  facultie : — 
Timor  Morlis  eonturbal  me. 

He  has  done  petuously  devour 
The  noble  Chaucer,  of  makaris  flour, 
The  Monk  of  Bury,  and  Gower,  all  three; — 
Timor  Marlii  eonturbal  me. 

vkuid]  fQckin^;.  cnmpiun]  champion.  itour]  figbL 

na]  puiuance.        ctraikj  Biruke.        npplee]  i*<re.        mukarii) 
I.       the  lavel  ibc  learc,  Ibc  reU.        padyanii]  pagcuiti. 


WILLIAM  DXJNBAR 


The  good  Sir  Hew  of  Egliatoun, 
Eurick,  Htriot,  and  WiDtoun, 
He  has  tane  out  of  this  cuntrie  :— 
Timor  Moriit  eenlurbat  me. 

That  scoT^ioD  fell  has  done  iofeck 
Maister  John  Clerk,  and  James  AfHek, 
Fra  ballat-making  and  tngedie; — 
Timor  Mertit  eonttiriaJ  me. 

Holland  and  Bailiour  he  has  berertt; 
Alas !    that  he  not  mth  us  lerit 
Sir  Mungo  Lockart  of  the  Lee:— 
Timor  Moriit  eonturtal  me. 

Clerk  of  Tranent  eke  he  has  tane, 
That  made  the  avenceris  of  Gawaine  f 
Sir  Gilbert  Hay  endit  has  he; — 
Timor  Moriit  conturhal  me. 


He  ha?  Blind  Harry  and  Sandy  Traill 


WILLIAM  DUNBAR 

Id  Duafennline  he  faas  taDc  Broun 
With  Maister  Robert  HenrysouD ; 
Sir  John  the  Ross  eobrasit  has  he:— 
Tmor  Mortit  eottlarbal  me. 

And  be  has  dot  tane,  last  of  a. 
Good  geotil  Stobo  and  Quintin  Shaw, 
Of  quhom  all  wichds  hes  pitie ; — 
Ttmor  ifortit  eonluriai  me. 

Good  Maister  Waller  Kennedy 
In  point  of  Dedth  Les  verily ; 
Great  ruth  it  were  that  so  suld  bei — 
Thur  Moriit  eon/uriai  me. 

Sen  be  has  all  my  brothers  tane, 
He  will  nocht  let  me  Uve  alane; 
Of  force  I  mon  his  next  prey  be; — 
Timor  MorlU  conturbal  me. 

Since  for  the  Death  remeid  is  none, 
Best  is  that  we  for  Death  dispone 
Aiter  our  death  that  live  may  we  :— 
Timor  Murt'u  eonlurbal  me. 


ANONYMOUS 
^2  May  in  the  Grem-lVaod 

IStb  Cent. 

TN  somer  when  the  shawes  be  sheyne, 
*     And  leves  be  large  and  long. 
Hit  b  full  merry  in  feyre  foreste 
To  here  the  foulys  song. 

"■  irichtii]  wighta,  penoai.  non]  mnit  di^mne]  make 

'''■Mdoo,  ai.  ihejne]  brifhL 

C  33 


ANONYMOUS 

To  se  the  dcrc  draw  to  the  iLJe 

And  leve  the  Wilts  hee, 
And  shadow  him  in  the  leves  greoe 

Under  the  green-wode   tree. 

Hit  befell  on  Whitsontide 

Early  ia  a  May  mornyng, 
The  Sonne  up  faire  can  shyae, 

And  the  briddis  mery  can  syng. 

'This  15  a  mery  moi  ipg,'  said  Liiulle  John^ 

'Be  Hym  that  dy^d  on  tre ; 
A  more  mery  man  tlian  I  am  ons 

Lyres  not  in  ChristianiS. 

'Pluk  up  thi  hert,  my  dere  mayster,* 

Litulle  JohiK  can  say, 
'Aad  thynk  hit  is  a  fulle  fayre  tjna 

In  a  momynge  of  May.' 


2}.  Carol 

T    SING  of  a  maiden 
■*   That  is  raakeles; 
King  of  all  kings 

To  her  son  she  ehes. 


15th  CaL 


He  came  al  so  still 

There  his  mother  was, 
As  dew  in  April 

That  falleth  on  the  grass. 


aj.  makelet]  nutchlcu. 


cliet]cbo*e. 


ANONYMOUS 

He  csmc  •]  m  uill 
To  his  aioilitt't  hoar. 

As  dew  m  April 
Tlxt  &IIeih  on  the  Bour. 

He  came  al  lo  stiD 
Tbnc  hb  tooUwt  kj, 

A>  dew  in  April 
Thai  Eillcth  OD  Utt  qmy. 

Mothtr  snd  BMidra 

Wai  Dner  none  but  she] 

Well  nay  sncb  a  bdy 
Codiks  tnoiher  be. 

&rAf  AtnoTt  t^Hgueo 

T  N  a  nflcy  of  ibis  intlcs  mind 
^     I  ioe0A  In  BiouDUin  aad  to  mead, 
Trasttni  a  uw  lotc  for  to  (ind. 
Ufoo  aa  hiH  then  took  I  hord; 
A  Toior  1  bard  (aod  neir  I  yedt) 
Id  grtst  doloof  eomjilattiiRg  ilio: 
Scci  dor  wol,  bow  vxf  sides  bleed 
Qtim  mum  £iRpwA 

tTjiOB  tbia  bin  I  feand  >  ttw, 
Undrr  a  tm  a  maa  tiling  i 
Vnm  head  to  fcm  woanilcd  vas  Kri 
Hit  hem  blood  I  saw  blMdim>9 
A  •nmly  ma  to  be  a  king, 
A  fradoas  Utx  lo  look  unta 
1  atUd  wby  be  lud  painiagt 
[He  aiid,]  QoM  oMorr  ^vb<v. 


ijibCtat.n 


ANONYMOUS 

I  am  true  lore  that  fidse  was  nercrt 
My  ^ster,  man's  soul,  I  lored  ber  thus. 
Because  we  would  in  do  wise  dissercr 
I  left  my  kiogdom  glorious. 
I  puireyed  her  a  palace  full  precious; 
She  fled,  I  followed,  I  loved  her  so 
That  I  suffered  this  pain  piteous 
Quia  amort  languen. 

Mj  fair  love  and  my  spoose  bright! 
I  saved  her  from  beadng,  and  she  hath  me  bet) 
I  clothed  her  in  grace  and  heaTcnly  light; 
This  bloody  shirt  she  hath  on  me  set; 
For  longing  of  love  yet  would  I  not  let ; 
Sweete  strokes  are  these ;   lo  I 
1  have  loved  her  ever  as  I  her  bet 
Quia  amen  langueo. 


I  crowned  her  with  bliss  and  she  me  with  thorn; 


ANONYMOUS 


1^7  «iU  not  off;   I  loose  bera  oouthti 
I  woo  ha  mvb  lurm  whtnrtt  slie  go. 
Tbtae  hands  lor  bcr  so  ^intd)/  fought 

Hand  iXK,  nun,  ibousb  I  sit  (tilL 
See,  loTC  bath  shod  me  wonder  stnit: 
BucUed  mj  feet,  u  was  bcT  will, 
WUli  ifaifpE  naiU  {well  tboa  nay'st  wait!). 
Id  my  lore  wit  nner  desakt 
AD  my  menbtrt  I  hare  opntcd  her  to} 
My  bodf  I  made  her  bau*3  bak 
Qbm  amort  Itj^uto. 


til  ray  lide  I  hare  nude  her  oesc; 
Look  ID,  ho*  «m  a  would  h  here! 
Tliis  'a  ber  dorober,  bcic  chall  she  mt. 
Thai  the  B&d  I  may  sleep  ia  (ere. 
Hnc  laay  the  wash,  if  any  S\lh  wcie ; 
Here  a  seat  for  all  her  u-oc; 
Come  when  ahe  will,  she  shall  have  cheer 
QaM  wmrt  Imgteo. 


I  will  abide  ull  sh«  be  ready, 
I  will  her  Mte  if  slie  say  nayi 
If  she  be  Rtchleu  I  will  be  sreedy, 
If  she  be  dangeroia  I  sriQ  ber  ynj; 
If  ifae  wcqt,  tbtn  bide  I  ne  mayi 
Mac  armi  ben  tptvad  lo  ctip  her  cnc  to. 
Cry  oaoe,  I  cone:    now,  tod,  auj 
Qwml  mmtn  tMgmm. 

Pair  lotr,  let  u*  go  pby: 
Affiles  bm  ripe  in  my  gardayoe. 


iMUtflacc 


la  fan]  tofttbrr. 


ANONYMOUS 

I  iball  tliH  clothe  in  a  ocw  anay, 
Thy  mtM  shall  be  milk,  hooey  iind  -mat. 
Fnir  lore,  let  its  go  dinei 
Thy  sualcnancc  is  in  my  crijipe,  lot 
TtzTf  ihou  not,  my  dir  ipousc  miiM^ 
Qiiia  emert  hngtiet. 

If  tliou  be  foul,  I  shall  thee  make  clean; 
If  thou  be  sick,  I  «1iaJI  thee  h«j  i 
If  thou  mouti)  oufiht,  I  nhalt  Uicc  mme  i 
Why  wih  Uiou  noi,  fair  lore,  with  me  tieJI 
Foundeu  thou  ever  lone  so  leal? 
What  wilt  thou,  ioul,  that  t  shall  dof 
1  nay  oot  unkindly  thee  appeal 
Qum  amert  taipua. 

What  shall  I  do  now  wiili  my  spouse 
But  abide  her  of  my  gentleness, 
Till  that  shf  look  out  of  ber  house 
Of  fleshly  alTeciion  i    lore  mine  she  is  j 
Her  bed  U  made,  he(  bul.iIeT  is  blisn, 
Her  chamber  is  chosen ;    is  there  none  mo. 
Look  out  on  me  at  ihc  window  of  kindcness 
Quia  enwi  laa^un. 

My  loTc  is  in  her  chamber;    Jiold  yonr  jMttM 
Make  ]-e  no  noi»e,  but  let  her  sleep. 
My  babe  I  would  not  were  in  dieeaw, 
I  may  not  hear  my  di-ar  child  weep. 
With  my  pap  I  shall  her  keep; 
Ne  nurtd  ye  not  though  I  tend  her  to: 
This  wound  in  my  side  had  ne'ex  be  so  deep 
But  Quid  amort  tttnguet- 


cilppe]  Ktip. 

St 


ntue]  lan  for. 


ANONmous 


Long  tfaon  for  love  nenr  so  high. 

My  Ion  b  more  than  dune  m»y  be. 

Tbo«  wwpect,  tbcn  {laddctt,  I  th  thee  by : 

Yet  vouldst  tliou  once,  iart,  took  uixo  mt  1 

Sboald  I  atvnyi  Tnde  thee 

Wkh  dnldfeQ  mml   Nar,  lore,  not  w! 

I  «ifl  prove  thy  lore  wnh  ftdreniti 

W«  not  weaiy,  mine  own  wife  I 

What  nnle  b  ap  lu  lire  tn  comfottF 

In  nihtUliati  I  id^n  more  rife 

Ofter  timei  ihiii  in  dispott. 

In  veal  and  in  woe  I  am  xj*  u  support; 

Mine  own  wife,  go  not  me  fro! 

Thy  mrde  »  mukod,  when  thou  tn  raort: 


Tie  NutBroum  Maid 


ijlhCoL 


T^  it  rigU  ar  vrmg,  ttfM  mth  amn^ 
*-^  On  OHMMN  A  ttn^am ; 
Afnmni  ttu,  b*a>  tt«t  ii  u 
A  kAeur  ifan  m  imm 

Thty  bnt  m  ad*  ^m  f 

TUr  favttir  to  tium, 

Tt$  jT  M  urn*  ft  (j!«n  ftrrtnr, 
TUrjCrit  tnu  lavtr  it-ia 

H*  U  *  lantiM  mm. 


r«M^newr>UL 


lkia)tkcs. 


M 


ANONYMOUS 

Sir,     J  lej  iwl  najr,  bM  thai  aU  Jay 

li  u  htth  writitn  omJ  itud 
Tina  waan't  faitb  it,  at  vrh  iMlt, 

AS  Wnly  dttaydi 
Bal  ttevtriltihit,  righl  gw>J  whaiil 

/■  ^  emt  migil  it  Ud 
Tinl  thty  hw  tne  Mut  ea^i'a^t 

Rtnrd  lie  Nitl-lnvin   flfaiJ, 
iFtniL,  witf  btr  hvt  ttini  btr  to  provr, 

7o  tf  to  mail  hit  maait, 
WouiJ  not  lUf^l  1   for  m  itr  bearl 

Sit  hvcit  iul  Um  aloBt. 

Iff,     Tim  ietwitti  lu  fit  at  £jaut 

Wha$  wu  all  tit  maoirt 
BttvttH  litm  tw9:    wv  m/i  eli» 

TtS  (tU  a<  fmi  in  fm 
Tint  lit  mat  in.     Nov/  I  tiginf 

S«  that  jt  mt  aaiwrrt  .* 
Whrrifort  oil  ji  that  ftrtiaii  it, 

I  fraj  jQU,  givt  an  tar, 
I  am  lit  Knight.      I  (omt  ly  n^glf, 

jfi  ttml  at  I  tan. 
Saying,  AUa !    tliux  standcth  the  cat, 

I  am  a  boniiihed  man. 

Sbe.     And  I  your  wU  for  to  J*^ 

la  lift  will  nM  rtfiue  t 
Trmliag  to  tbow,  in  v»rdet  /tm, 

fiat  mrti  bavt  an  ill  utt — 
To  ibfir  own  thitrnt—womm  t»  tlaatt^ 

Alii  cauttlrti  ihtm  atemt. 

4« 


ANONVMOU3 


AS  wmva  i»  ncWM — 
Mine  own  bean  ilnr,  with  yon  wlut  dicctf 

For,  in  my  miad,  of  all  nunluDd 
I  lore  but  jou  «lon& 

St.    It  nandnh  lo:    a  deed  b  do 

Wtmvof  gmt  lunu  stull  grow  i 
Mj  doday  b  for  to  die 

A  shdracfid  tleath,  I  trow; 
Or  eUe  19  Dec.     Tlie  t'  one  muM  be;. 

None  other  way  I  know 
But  to  wiibdow  H  an  outUw, 

And  uke  mc  to  my  bow. 
TOwforv  adieu,  mine  own  heart  true  I 

None  Other  irde  I  can: 
For  I  must  M  ilW  grem-wood  go, 

Alone,  a  bamalm]  man. 

Sht.     O  Lord,  what  is  this  worldia  blisa, 

Tb»  chaogctii  u  the  mcoD  I 
My  umnier'a  day  io  koty  May 

Is  darked  bcfme  die  noon. 
I  hear  yog  ny,  farewell  j    Nay,  nay, 

We  dtpon  not  va  uxsn. 
Why  say  )«  Bof    whiUicr  will  ye  go  J 

Alls!     what  hive  yc  doncf 
All  my  wdfire  to  «m>w  and  carv 

Shoold  clun^e,  if  ye  were  gone  i 
For,  in  my  mnd,  of  all  mantind 

1  loie  but  yoa  alone. 


1 1  CMtl  eowael  I  know. 


Ci 


41 


ANONYMOUS 

Bi.    I  cu  believe  it  shall  you  gnerc, 

And  somewhat  you  distnuo  t 
But  ifttTward,  your  poines  httrd 

Withia  a  dxy  or  twain 
SbaJI  toon  ulake;    aad  ye  (halt  take 

Comfort  to  yon  again. 
Why  shoutd  ye  ought?    for,  to  make  thou 

Your  labour  wwe  in  rain. 
And  thus  I  dot    and  pruy  you  lo, 

As  kutely  u  I  can: 
Pot  I  muM  to  the  greca-wood  go, 

Alone,  a  bwished  man. 

Sh*>     NoWf  sith  that  ye  hare  showed  to  me 

The  secret  of  your  mind, 
I  shall  be  plain  to  you  again, 

Like  as  ye  shall  me  find. 
Sith  it  is  M)  that  ye  wall  go, 

I  will  DOC  live  behind. 
Shall  neTCT  be  uid  the  Nut-brown  Maid 

Was  to  her  Iotc  unkind. 
Make  you  rcad^,  for  so  am  I, 

Although  it  were  anonc: 
For,  b  my  miad,  of  all  mankiad 

I  lore  but  you  alone. 


Ht.    Yet  I  you  rede  to  take  good  heed 
What  men  will  think  and  say: 
Of  young,  of  old,  it  shall  be  told 

That  ye  be  gone  away 
Your  wanton  will  for  to  ful£l. 
In  gtcenivood  you  to  play ; 


ANONYMOUS 

And  tliaC  ye  might  for  your  delight 

No  longer  make  delay. 
Hatber  than  ye  should  thus  for  me 

Be  called  an  ill  womin 
Yet  would  I  to  the  green-wood  go, 

Alone,  a  banished  roan. 

™'-      Though  it  be  song  of  old  and  young 

That  I  should  be  to  blame, 
Thdra  be  the  charge  that  speak  so  large 

In  hurting  of  my  name: 
For  I  will  prove  that  faithful  love 

It  is  devoid  of  shame ; 
Id  your  distress  and  heaviness 

To  part  with  you  the  same: 
And  sure  all  tho  that  do  not  so 

True  lovers  are  they  none; 
For  in  my  mind,  of  all  mankind 

I  love  but  you  alone. 

^t.     I  counsel  you,   Remember  how 

It  is  DO  maiden's  law 
Nothing  to  doubt,  but  to  run  out 

To  wood  with  an  outlaw. 
For  ye  must  there  in  your  hand  bear 

A  bow  read^  to  draw ; 
And  as  a  thief  thus  must  you  live 

Ever  in  dread  and  awe; 
Whereby  to  you  great  hann  might  grow: 

Yet  had  I  liever  than 
That  I   had  to  the  green-wood  go. 

Alone,   a  banished  man. 

PW  •ith]  ihaie  with.  tho]  thoM 

43 


ANONYMOUS 

Shf.     I  think  not  n.iy  but  as  ye  sayj 
It  is  DO  maiden's  lore ; 
But  love  may  make  me  for  your  sake, 

As  I  haye  said  before, 
To  come  on  foot,  to  hunt  and  shoot, 
To  net  iw  meat  and  Store  ( 
r  company 

Ik  ao  more. 


stone: 

of  all  mankind 

alone. 


s  is  the  law, 

1'tiat  men  him  take  and  bind : 
Without  fntie,  bang£d  to  be, 

And  waver  with  the  wind. 
If  I  had  need  (as  God  forbede!) 

What  socours  could  ye  find  i 
Forsooth  I  trow,  you  and  your  bow 

For  fear  would  draw  behind. 
And  no  mervail ;    for  little  avail 

Were  in  your  counsel  than : 
Wherefore  I'll  to  the  green-wood  go, 

Alone,  a  banished  man. 


She.     Right  well  know  ye  that  women  be 
But  feeble  for  to  fight  j 

No  womanhede  it  is,  indeed, 
To  be  bold  as  a  knight: 

Yet  in  such  fear  if  that  ye  were 
With  enemies  day  and  night, 


ANONYMOUS 

I  would  withstand,  with  bow  in  band, 
To  griere  them  as  I  might, 

And  you  to  save;    as  womcD  have 
From  death  men  many  one: 

For,  in  mj  mind,  of  all  maokind 
1  love  bat  yoa  alooe. 

"*'      Yet  take  good  hede;    for  ever  I  drede 

That  ye  could  not  sustain 
The  thoray  ways,  the  deep  vallSys, 

The  snow,  the  frost,  the  rain, 
The  cold,  the  heat;    for  dry  or  wete, 

We  most  lodge  od  the  plaint 
And,  IB  aboTe,  no  other  roof 

But  a  brake  bush  or  twain: 
Which  loon  shoiJd  grieve  you,  I  believe  i 

And  ye  would  gladly  than 
That  I  had  to  the  green-wood  go, 

Alone,  a  banished  man. 

«if.    Sith  I  have  here  been  partynere 

With  you  of  joy  and  bliss, 
I  must  alsb  part  of  your  woe 

Enchire,  as  reason  is: 
Yet  I  am  sure  of  one  pleasilre. 

And  shortly  it  b  this — 
That  where  ye  be,  me  seemeth,  pardf, 

I  could  not  fare  amiss. 
Without  more  speech  I  you  beseech 

That  we  were  shortly  gone ; 
For,  in  my  mind,  of  all  mankind 

I  love  but  you  alone. 


ANONYMOUS 

Ht.     If  jre  go  thfder,  ye  roust  consider, 

When  ye  h»ve  bn  to  dine, 
There  shall  do  meat  be  for  to  gete, 

Nctlict  bcre,  bIc,  dc  wine, 
Ne  shetis  clean,  to  lie  t)etween, 

Made  of  thread  and  tu-ine  j 
None  other  house,  but  leaves  and  boughs^ 

To  cover  youi  head  and  mine. 
Lo,  mine  hc^n  swnrt,  this  ill  di^ 

Should  make  you  [iilc  snd  waa: 
Whcrcibre  I'll  to  the  grt«fl'wood  go, 

Atone,  a  tuaislied  nao. 

Shr,     Among  the  wild  deer  such  an  arclidre. 

As  men  uy  (bit  ye  be, 
Ne  may  not  FjU  of  good  vriayle 

Where  ja  so  greiil  plenti; 
And  water  clear  of  the  rivtre 

Shall  be  full  sweet  to  rae| 
With  which  in  hcle  I  skdl  tight  wcIq 

Endure,  as  ye  skill  sec; 
And,  or  we  go,  a  bnj  or  two 

I  cut  provide  3none ; 
For,  in  my  niiml,  of  all  nianlcind 

1  love  hut  you  alone. 

Ht.     Lo  yet,  before,  ye  must  do  more, 

If  yc  will  go  with  me : 
As,  cut  your  hair  up  by  your  ear, 

Your  kinle  by  the  kneej 
With  bow  b  h.iod  for  to  withstand 

Your  eoetnies,  if  need  be  i 

heU]  health. 
4« 


ANONYMOUS 

Aod  diis  *uae  lugbt,  bdbrv  diylighi, 
To  «reodward  will  I  ficc< 

If  iluc  je  will  all  this  fullil. 
Da  it  shortly  >s  ye  can: 

Ebr  wiH  I  to  Uic  gnco-wood  go, 
A)<MM^  a  htwjgliMl  man. 


I  thiU  u  now  do  more  (or  yoQ 

Than  loRgeth  to  «-o«unhede; 
To  iboit  my  luir,  a  bow  to  botr. 

To  ihooc  in  time  of  nnd. 
0  ay  swcn  motlm  f    before  ill  oUm 

For  yo«  I  kare  most  dndei 
B«S  now,  adieu  I    I  man  eooue 

Vhen  Ibrtune  doth  me  lewl. 
All  thb  make  jei    Now  let  us  Bk; 

The  diy  cotaah  fast  upon : 
For,  b  my  imnd,  of  all  nunlund 

I  lore  bn  yon  alooc. 


Nty,  aty,  aot  ao)    ye  shall  not  go, 

Aad  I  ahiU  idl  yoa  w]iy — 
Yocr  ifipcatc  is  to  be  light 

Of  km,  I  well  opy : 
For,  n|tht  u  ye  hate  laid  to  me. 

In  likewise  hardily 
Ye  would  uttWRe  wboMcrcr  h  were, 

Is  wiy  of  corapao) : 
I)  b  said  of  old,  Soon  hot,  soon  cold  i 

And  to  ia  a  wocnin: 
Whncbr*  I  u  the  w«od  will  go, 

Aloa>,  a  biaiihcd  nan. 


ANONYMOUS 


Sit.      If  jt  take  heed,  it  is  no  need 

Such   words  to  say  to  me ; 
For  oft  yc  pmyed,   and  long  assayed. 

Or  I  loved  you,  pard6; 
And  though  that  I  of  ancestijj 

A  baroti's  draghter  bo^  '•■  u- 

V A  Mm  yOQ  pCOTn  uOfW  1  TOV  lOH^ 

A  Bqnire  of  low  dcpeei  ,    , 

And  ercr  iball,  vhxao  be&]^ 

To  <fie  therefine  moBoi 
For,  ia  qij  miDdt  of  hD  ■MiiV"Ml 

I  lo«e  Iiut  joo  iloBCb  "    .J 

Ht.    A  baron's  duld  to  W  begQiled,:       ' 
'  It  were  a  cunKd  deed  I 
To  be  ieliw  with  an  outlaw — 

Almighty  God  forbede! 
Yet  better  were  the  poor  squyere 

Alone  to  forest  yede 
Than  ye  shall  say  another  day 

That  by  my  curaM  rede 
Ye  were  betrayed.     Whereiore,  good  maid, 

The  best  rede  that  I  can, 
la,  that  I  to  the  green-wood  go, 

Alone,  a  banished  man. 

She.     Whaterer  befall,  I  ne«r  shall 

Of  this  thing  be  upbraid  : 
But  if  ye  go,  and  leave  me  so, 

Then  have  ye  me  betrayed. 
Remember  you  wele,  how  that  ye  deJej 

For  if  ye,  as  ye  said, 

jede]  went. 
4> 


r^^ 


ANONYMOUS 

Be  M  unkind  to  Inve  behind 
Tour  loTc,  the  Nut-brown  Maid, 

Tiust  me  trul^  that  I  shall  die 
Soon  after  ye  be  gone: 

For,  in  my  mind,  of  all  maolund 
I  toTe  but  you  alone. 

If  that  ye  went,  ye  should  repent; 

For  in  the  forest  now 
I  have  parreyed  me  of  a  maid 

Whom  I  lore  more  than  you : 
Another  more  fair  than  ever  ye  were 

I  dare  it  well  avow  \ 
And  of  you  both  each  shoiUd  be  wroth 

Wth  other,  as  I  trow; 
It  were  mine  ease  to  live  in  peace  j 

So  will  I,  if  I  can: 
Wherefore  I  to  the  wood  will  go, 

Alon^  a  banished  man. 


^ht.     Though  in  the  wood  I  understood 

Ye  had  a  paramour, 
All  this  may  nought  remove  my  thought. 

But  that  I  will  be  your* : 
And  she  shall  find  me  soft  and  kind 

And  coutteis  every  hour ; 
Glad  to  fulfil  ail  that  she  will 

Command  me,  to  my  power : 
For  had  ye,  lo,  an  hundred  mo, 

Yet  would  I  be  that  one: 
For,  in  my  mind,  of  all  mankind 

I  lore  but  you  alone. 


ANONYMOUS 

Hi.     hfine  own  dear  lorcy  I  Me  the  prorc 

That  y«  be  kind  ttnd  irxi 
or  maid,  of  wile,  in  all  avj  life. 

The  best  ihal  ever  I  knew. 
Be  meiry  sad  glad)    be  do  more  s>d| 

The  cue  is  cbtn^M  neW) 
For  it  were  rutli  that  for  your  truth 

Ye  should  hai-e  came  to  rue. 
Be  not  dismayed,  whatwercT  I  said 

To  you  when  I  began: 
I  will  not  to  the  grveD-wood  gO} 

I  vn  no  banished  roan. 


Sh<.    These  tidings  be  more  ^ad  to  me 

Than  to  be  made  a  queen, 
If  I  were  sure  ihey  should  endure  t 

But  it  is  often  seen 
When  men  will  break  promvie  they  speak 

The  wordis  on  the  splcne. 
Te  shape  some  wile  me  to  beguile, 

And  steal  from  mc,   I   ween : 
Then  were  the  caKr  wonw  than  it  waa 

And  I  more  wo-begone: 
For,  in  my  mind,  of  all  roaakiud 

I  love  but  you  alone. 

Hi.     Ye  ftbalj  not  ncde  further  to  diede: 

I  will  not  disjiarl^ 
You  (God  defcod),  aith  jou  descend 

Of  90  great  a  linige. 
Now  understand:    to  WestniKdand, 

Which  is  my  hctitage, 

on  the  tplMie]  that  la,  in  bule. 


ANONYMOUS 

I  win  joo  brinm    mhI  vritb  «  no£t 

By  vntj  of  maniige 
I  vill  you  xake,  and  lady  nuke, 

Aa  ihonly  u  I  can: 
Tbiu  hate  you  woo  an   Harlea  son, 

Aad  Dot  A  bmisbrd  nun. 

Hirt  maf  ft  Mt  thai  «F«aim  tt 

h  love  m/ri,  Uad,  and  ilMt; 
Lit  nrvtr  muti  rrfmvt  thtm  liaa, 

Or  call  lim  variaiUi 
But  ntiber  ftraj  CeJ  thitt  we  may 

To  ibfm  tr  camfitriaiie  I 
Witti  mmtlimt  fnvrth  titth  ai  He  hvtih. 

If  tbij  it  eiariiaile. 
P»r  illi  mtn  vmuU  ibat  wwn  thvaid 

Bt  Butt  If  ihem  tath  one; 
Myth  mart  tugtt  ihij  I9  G«d  tUj, 

And  lerot  6nl  Km  ahn*. 


As  ye  came  from  the  Hoi/  Latitl 

■MCml 

AS  ye  cmx  £rom  the  holy  land 
'     Of  Wabrnghanie, 
Met  yoo  not  with  ny  true  Ime 
By  the  way  as  you  came? 

How  duiuld  I  know  your  tnw  love, 

That  hive  met  many  «  oee 
As  I  came  from  tlie  holy  laod, 

Thai  hKTc  come,  that  ha*e  gooe  \ 


She  is  neither  wliite  nor  brown, 

But  as  the  lieavens  fair ; 
There  is  none  hath  her  form  dirine 

In  tlic  earth  or  the  air. 

Sudi  a  qu  di^  X  meet,  good  nr, 
face, 

,  like  a  queen,  did  ajipeai 
ler  giace. 

eic  alone 
known, 
me  lead  with  heraelf, 
I  her  own. 

What 's  the  causic  diat  she  leaves  you  a\oae 

And  a  new  way  doth  take, 
That  sometime  did  love  you  as  her  own, 

And  her  joy  did  you  make? 

I  have  loved  her  all  my  youth, 

But  now  am  old,  as  you  see: 
Love  likes  not  the  falling  fruit, 

Nor  the  withered  tree. 

Know  that  Love  is  a  careless  child. 

And  forgets  promise  past : 
He  is  blbd,  he  is  deaf  when  he  lis^ 
And  in  faith  never  fast. 

His  desiie  is  a  dureless  content, 

And  a  trustless  joyj 
He  is  won  with  a  world  of  despur, 

And  is  lost  with  a  toy. 

P 


ANONVMOUS 

or  wofneoluod  nch  iadcrd  b  cbc  luiv, 

Or  the  word  Ion:  abusid, 
Uadcr  vhicti  many  cliUditJi  deiiici 

And  coDcctts  ate  exciuid. 

But  true  low  u  a  dcrabic  Sn, 

to  thf  mind  ever  bunung, 
Nctn  sick,  iKxtT  dr>d,  nem  cold, 

Prom  Uielf  turcr  luraiog. 


17.      Tif  Lever  frt  /f^/»/er  Tlamtb  for 

the  Spjing 

ititkCan.n 
/-\  WESTERN  wind,  wbfn  wiii  titou  blow 
^-^     Tlui  the  aiuU  run  down  can  n\a\ 
Clinst,  that  my  lotc  mtcc  la  my  arms 
And  I  in  icy  bed  a^tial 


23.  BaJom 

lM>CtnL 

D  ALOW,  ny  babe,  lie  uUI  Kid  sleep! 
^     It  grieTM  me  tore  to  mc  thee  w«rp, 
Woiddst  thou  b«  quiet  I'se  be  glad, 
Thy  miHreins  Riak»  my  sorrow  ud: 
Dilttw  my  boy,  tfay  motber's  joy, 
Tliy  (atber  breeds  me  {real  annoys 
Balow,  b-Idw! 

Wbca  be  bcs>n  to  cocn  my  lore. 
And  wjtb  his  Mtgttd  words  me  move, 
Hri  faynnigt  (abc  and  flattering  chcvt 
To  me  that  tfnae  did  nU  ap[«ar : 


ANONYMOUS 

But  now  I  see  most  cruellye 
He  cares  oe  for  my  babe  nor  me — 
Balow,  la-low ! 

Lie  Still,  my  darling,  sleep  awhile, 
And  when  thou  wak'st  ihou'le  swecUy  smile; 
But  smile  not  as  thy  father  did, 
To  cozen  maids :    aay,   God  forbid  ! 
But  yet  I  fear  thou  wilt  go  near 
Thy  father's  heart  and  face  to  bear — 
Balow,  la-low ! 

I  cannot  choose  but  ever  will 
Be  loving  to  thy  father  still ; 
Where'er  he  go,  where'er  he  ride. 
My  love  with  him  doth  Still   abide ; 
In  weal  or  woe,  where'er  he  go, 
My  heart  shall  ne'er  depart  him  fro — 
Balow,  U'low! 

But  do  not,  do  not,  pretty  mine. 
To  faynings  false  thy  heart  incline! 
Be  loyal  to  thy  lover  true, 
And  never  change  her  for  a  new: 
If  good  or  fair,  of  her  have  caie 
For  women's  banning 's  wondrous  sare— 
Balow,  la-low  I 

B^m,  by  thy  face  I  will  beware ; 
Like  Sirens'  words,  I'll  come  not  near ; 
My  babe  and  I  together  will  live ; 
He'll  comfort  me  when  cares  do  grieve. 
My  babe  and  I  right  soft  will  lie, 
And  ne'et  respect  man's  crueltyc — 
Balow,  la-low  1 

H 


ANONYMOUS 

F»rewen,  fiireweU,  the  falsest  youth 
That  rrer  kist  a  womaa's  mouth ! 
I  wish  all  maids  be  wam'd  by  me 
Nctct  to  trust  man's  cuitesye ; 
For  if  ««  do  but  chance  to  bow, 
They'll  use  us  then  they  care  not  how — 
Balow,  la-low! 


T 


i^-  Tie  Old  Cloak 

ieUiCent.{Q 

^HIS  winter's  weather  it  waxeth  cold, 
Aikd  frost  it  freezeth  on  every  hill, 
And  Boreas  blows  his  blast  so  bold 

Tlut  all  our  cattle  are  like  to  spill. 
SeQ,  my  wife,  she  loves  no  strife; 

She  said  unto  me  tjuietlye, 
Rise  up,  and  save  cow  Crumbock's  life  I 

Man,  put  thine  old  cloak  about  thee ! 

^*-     0  Bell  my  wife,  why  dost  thou  flyte  \ 

TftOO  kens  my  cloak  is  very  thin: 
It  u  so  bare  and  over  worn, 

A  Clicks  thereon  cannot  renn. 
Tien  I'll  no  longer  borrow  nor  lend ; 

For  once   I'll  new  appareli'd  be; 
To-morrow  I'll  to  town  and  spend; 

For  I'll  have  a  new  cloak  about  me. 

^    Cow  Crumbock  is  a  very  good  cow: 

She  has  been  always  true  to  the  pail ; 
She  has  helped  us  to  butter  and  cheese,  I  trow, 
And  other  things  she  will  not  fail, 

^ajtejicold. 


ANONYMOUS 

I  would  be  loth  to  see  her  pine. 

Good  husband,   counsel  take  of  me: 

It  is  not  for  us  to  go  so  fine — 

Man,  lake  thioe  old  cloak  about  thee  I 

He.     M^  cloak  it  was  a  very  good  cloak, 

It  liath  been  always  true  to  the  wear[ 
But  now  it  is  not  wortli  a  groat: 

I   hare  had  it  four  and  forty  year". 
Sometime  it  was  of  clotli  in  grain : 

Tis  now  but  a  sigh  clout,  as  you  may  seei 
It  will  neither  hold  out  wind  nor  rain ; 

And  I'll  liave  a  new  cloak  about  me, 

.S&.     It  ii  fixir  and  tacv]  jean  ago 

Sine  the  one  of  us  the  other  cBd  ken  \ 
And  we  have  bad,  betmxt  as  two, 

Of  children  rither  nine  or  ten : 
We  have  brought  them  up  to  women  and  men ; 

In  the  fear  of  Cod  I  trow  they  be. 
And  why  wilt  thou  thyself  misken  \ 

Man,  take  thine  old  cloak  about  thee  I 

He.     O  Bell  my  wife,  why  dost  thou  flytc? 

Now  is  now,  and  then  was  then : 
Seek  now  all  the  world  throughout, 

Thou  kens  not  downs  from  gentlemen : 
They  are  clad  in  black,  green,  yellow  and  blue. 

So  far  above  their  own  degree. 
Once  in  my  life  I'll  take  a  view  t 

For  I'll  have  a  new  cloak  fdx)ut  me. 


dotb  in  grain]  tculet  cloth. 


*lgh  clout]  a  rag  foi  tlniniiig. 


ANONYMOUS 

Eisj  Suphen  VMS  a  wodhj  pecrt 

Ha  breeches  cost  him  bnu  a  crown  i 
He  hctd  them  KXpcoce  *U  too  dnt, 

Therriarv  he  called  the  uiW  'Iowa.' 
He  wxs  a  1un|  and  van  the  crown. 

And  thon'se  but  of  a  low  drgrve  i 
It'«  prUe  that  puts  this  country  down: 

Haa,  take  thy  old  cloak  aboot  thee  I 


&   Bell  my  wife,  she  lores  not  strife. 

Yet  she  will  lead  me,  if  she  can; 
A*d  to  miiiitain  an  caxy  life 

I  oft  mtat  jncid,  thoogh  I'm  goodiiMn. 
It's  not  ^  a  man  with  a  woman  to  thrc4[>, 

Unlet*  bf  Cm  give  o'er  the  pka  i 
Ai  «■  brxsiH  to  will  we  ktep, 

And  111  take  my  old  dotk  about  tM, 


JOHN  SKELTON 
•■      Tc  Mistress  Margery  W^entvoottb 

1460  t-l  Jig 

VW'ITH  mMscraia  gende, 
*^      The  ftowo'  of  goodiibead, 
Emfaroidend  the  mantle 

I*  of  jour  naiJcnbeadL 
Plainly,  I  cannot  gtox; 

Ye  be.  as  I  diTinr, 
The  pretty  pcimhost. 

The  goodly  columbtoe. 

Ih«pl  ai^ae.  ^  na/ptato]  narjorani. 


STEPHEN  HAWES 

33.  His  Epitaph 

r~\  MORTAL  folk,  you  may  behoM  Mil 
^-^      How  I  tic  here,  aammme  a  nughtjr  fcnig 
The  end  of  joy  and  all  prospcritce 

Is  dcMh  M  Use,  thorough  his  course  sad 
Aiter  the  day  there  comelh  the  dark  fiigbi, 
For  Ibouigb  tlie  dayc  be  orrcr  M  long, 
At  last  the  bells  ringetb  to  ereasoas. 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT 
3^  Forget  mt  yet 

the  Ltfvtr  Buetehflb  bit  Mutrm  mal  tt  Forget 
Suadfait  Fnish  and  Trat  IiaaH 

PORGET  not  yet  the  tried  intent 

or  tucli  a  truth  as  I  hSTC  meant| 
My  great  tnrail  so  gladly  spent. 
Forget  not  yet ! 

Forgrt  not  yet  when  first  began 
The  weary  life  ye  know,  since  whan 
The  Ruit,  the  scrricc,  none  tell  can; 
Forget  not  yet! 

Forget  not  yet  the  £rest  assays. 
The  eniel  wronji,  tiie  scornful  ways, 
The  painful  patience  in  delays, 
Forget  not  yetl 

Fwgct  not!   O,  Torgct  not  thi»! — 
How  long  ago  hath  been,  and  is, 
The  mind  that  never  meant  amiss — ■ 
Forget  not  yetl 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT 

Forget  oot  then  thine  own  approved, 
The  which  so  Jong  hath  thee  so  loved, 
Whose  steadfast  faith  yet  oever  moved: 
Forget  not  this! 


3T- 


The  A^al 


Am  Eanutt  Suit  la  hu  Uniind  Miitreit,  not  la 
Ferjoii  iim 

A  ND  wi]t  thou  leave  me  thus  ? 
^^    Say  nay,  say  nay,  for  shame  I 
—To  save  thee  from  the  blaroe 
Of  all  my  grief  and  grame. 
And  wilt  thou  leave  me  thus? 
Say  nay !    say  Day ! 

And  wilt  thou  leave  me  thus, 
That  hath  loved  thee  so  long 
In  wealth  and  woe  among: 
And  is  thy  heart  so  strong 
A»  for  to  Itave  me  thusi 
Say  nay  I    say  nay  I 

And  wilt  than  leave  me  thus, 
That  hath  given  thee  my  heart 
Never  for  to  depart 
Neither  for  pain  nor  smart: 
And  wilt  thou  leave  me  thus  I 
Say  nayj    lay  nay  I 


jf.  £nme]  knbow. 


6i 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT 

And  wilt  thoo  lean  me  tViat, 
And  liave  do  more  piijc 
Of  liim  llmi  lowtli  ihrtt 
Alaa,  thy  cruelty  1 
And  wilt  thou  Inre  me  thus  I 
Say  nay  I   uy  niyl 


jA  y/  Jievocathn 

W/HAT  should  I  wy? 

'^    — Sine*  Fiiili  »  dnd. 
And  Truth  sway 
From  you  ii  fled  J 
Should  I  Ix-  UA 
With  doublcDCSsf 
Nay !   nay !   nristitM. 

I  promised  you, 

And  you  proniited  me^ 
Ti>  be  u  true 
As  I  would  be. 
But  since  I  sec 
Your  double  heart. 
Farewell  my  jani 

Tlioughi  for  to  take 

Ta  Dot  niy  mind  ( 
But  to  forsake 
Ooe  M  unk-icd) 
And  M  I  ficd 
So  will  I  tnut. 
Farcwcllt  unjust! 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT 

Cm  y«  uj  nay 

But  thac  jwt  sbd 
Tliat  I  iJwty 

Should  be  oUjedf 
And— thus  iKO^fd 
Or  tlui  1  wis  I 
Fvcwell,  unkittl 


7.       Vixi  'Puellh  Nupn  TJmms . . , 

'T'HEy  (!«  from  me  tii«  somttune  <!>d  me  tetV, 
^    'Willi  naknl  foot  nolking  witlun  my  cbiiabcr; 

OfiC*  hiTc  I  sen  thtro  penile,  ume,  sad  ine«k, 
That  BOW  are  wild,  and  do  not  onor  mnmber 
Thitt  KMaetune  they  tiatc  pai  thnnselTei  in  daaga 

To  tike  hnaA  at  my  hand;   and  now  they  nngc, 

Buily  Mckii^  ia  comioual  change. 

Tfaanlced  be  bftwie,  ii  hath  been  otherwise 
Twenty  times  better ;   but  odcc  cf|iccial — 

la  thin  array:  afcct  a  ]>leasuii  ffaie, 
Wha  her  kMsc  gown  did  &om  ber  sliouldtn  lall, 
Aod  sh»  me  caugbt  ta  her  amis  lon^  sad  sruU, 

Aad  thncwilhal  id  sweetly  did  rae  kiss, 

Aod  aoAJy  laid,  'Dear  heart,  hov>  Bit  ym  lUit' 

h  wu  tao  dmini   for  I  by  broad  awaking: 

Bat  all  is  mm'd  now,  thronsh  my  gefllitiKa, 
Im  ■  bitter  bifaua  of  forsjl:ia]t  i 
And  I  han  leare  to  go  of  her  goodoeast 
Aad  abe  al«o  to  use  ncw-fxngleness. 
BtDoe  that  I  itftkbdly  «o  am  wrvM. 

Hit  jam  tiitf — *bat  bath  she  bow  deservM.* 


I 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT 


iSt  To  His  Lute 

IVA'y  lute,  awake  1  perform  the  last 
■^'■*-     Labour  that  thou  and  I  shall  waste, 

And  end  that  I  have  now  begun  ; 
For  wheo  this  song  is  said  and  past, 

My  lute,  be  stiiJ,  for  I  have  done. 


I 


As  to  be  heud  wbov  or  ia  wwe^  ■--■•  ' 
Aa  lead  to  gnve  in  miUe  .mdm^  ,    , 

Mf  long  mif  pierce  ber  beut  ■■  «MBi 
Should  we  then  sing,  <x  Bgb,  or  mmnf 

No,  no,  my  Intel    fbr  I  have  done. 

The  rocks  do  not  so  cmelly 
Repulse  the  waves  continually, 

As  she  my  suit  and  aflecti^) 
So  that  I  am  past  remedy  j 

Whereby  my  lute  and  I  have  done. 

Proud  of  the  spoil  that  thou  hast  got 
Of  simple  hearts  thorough  Love's  shot. 

By  whom,  unkind,  thou  hast  them  won ; 
Think  not  he  hath  his  bow  forgot, 

Although  my  lute  and  I  have  done. 

Vengeance  shall  fall  on  thy  disdain, 
That  makest  but  game  of  earnest  paini 

Trow  not  alone  under  the  sun 
Unquit  to  cause  thy  lover's  plain, 

Although  my  lute  and  I  have  done. 


H 


SIR  THOMAS  WYATT 

May  chiK*  tNw  lie  witber'd  and  old 
Hw  winter  nJshts  tliai  are  m  cold, 

Pttining  in  vain  nolo  the  mooa: 
Thy  wabes  Uim  dare  not  be  told) 

Cam  tbcn  who  list!    for  I  lure  done. 

Aod  ibra  may  chaocv  thee  to  repent 
Tlie  titiie  that  then  has  lost  and  ^pent 

To  ouae  thy  torer's  lijth  and  awooa: 
Tliea  shalt  thou  luiow  beauty  but  Ictit, 

And  wttb  and  want  ai  I  hate  done. 

Nov  ccaie,  my  lutel   this  b  the  last 
Lihoor  that  tbou  and  I  *hall  vtiU, 

And  enitd  »  that  we  br^uni 
Now  is  this  soDg  boOi  sun^  and  post — 

Hy  lotr   be  sdll,  for  1  km  dooe. 


HEKRY  HOWARD,  EARL  OF  SURREY 
}f-  Z>fscrifi/iett  tf  Spring 

Ifhirti*  taih  litKf  rtntm,  tavt  «nJj  lit  Lever 

THE  MKxe  season,  that  bod  and  faloom  forth  brings, 

Vwk  green  huh  clad  the  hill  and  rke  the  ntic: 
TW  ii|{HfTyl^  with  feathcra  new  she  Mitgs  i 
"■mk  to  her  naake  haih  told  hn  tak-. 
'ma  is  exHoe,  for  e*eiy  spcay  now  sprwjtsi 
tV  btn  huh  bang  Mb  old  head  oo  the  pale  t 
^  hati  in  htake  his  wbtcr  coat  be  fKngs ; 
7k  (shes  Aete  with  new  repiuid  tcalc- 
Aiak^BBte, 

D  ts 


HENRY  HOWARD,  EARL  OF  SURRE1 

Tlie  adiler  all  htt  flougb  amy  she  Uiqgst 
Tlie  swift  swallow  pursuitli  tlic  Bin  smale; 
Tlie  busy  bee  her  honey  now  she  mii^ ; 
Wlnur  is  worn  tlut  wm  the  flowers'  bale. 

And  thus  I  5w  among  tlicsc  pleasant  things 
Each  care  dccayi,  >od  yet  my  sorrow  sfiriqss. 


40.      Cemplahit  of  the  Absence  of  Hfr  La 
being  upon  r&e  Sea 

O  HAPPY  damest   that  may  en 
The  ffuil  of  your  delight, 
Help  to  bewail  the  wotal  cane 

And  ckc  the  heavy  plight 
Of  mu,  that  wonted  to  rejoice 
The  foclune  of  my  plcitant  choice: 
Good  tadicTS,  help  to  All  my  moumtn^ 

In  ship,  Irdght  with  rcmcmberaoce 

Of  tliaughu  and  pleasures  past, 
He  uili  that  hath  in  ^venunce 

My  life  while  it  will  last: 
With  scalding  sighs,  for  lack  of  gair, 
Funheting  his  hope,  ilut  b  his  sail, 
Tovanl  me,  the  swete  port  of  his  aiaiL 

Alu !    how  oft  io  drejms  I  kc 
Those  eyes  that  were  my  food; 

Which  sometime  so  delighted  ne^ 
That  yet  they  do  me  good:* 

ff.  nUQp]  mingle*,  mues. 

tt 


HENRY  HOWARD,  EARL  OF  SURREY 

Wbnewhh  I  wake  with  his  return 

Whose  ^KCDt  flame  did  make  me  bum: 

But  when  I  find  the  lack,  Lordi   how  I  moural 

When  other  lovers  in  arms  across 

Rejnce  their  chief  delight, 
DfDwiiid  in  tears,  to  rooom  my  loss 

I  stand  the  bitter  night 
In  my  wiodow  where  I  may  see 
Before  the  winds  how  the  clouds  flee: 
Lo !    what  a  mariner  lore  hath  made  me  1 

Aod  in  green  waves  when  the  salt  flood 

Doth  rise  by  lage  of  wind, 
A  thousand  fancies  in  that  mood 

Assail  my  restless  mind. 
Alas!    now  drencheth  my  sweet  foe, 
That  with  the  spoil  of  my  heart  did  go, 
Aod  left  me  J   but  alas !   why  did  he  so  ? 

Aod  when  the  seas  wax  calm  again 

To  chase  fro  me  annoy, 
My  doubtful  hope  doth  cause  me  plain; 

So  dread  cuts  off  my  joy. 
Thus  is  my  wealth  mingled  with  woe 
And  of  each  thought  a  doubt  doth  grow  ( 
—Now  he  comes!    Will  he  come?   Abs !    no,  no, 

'■.      The  Means  to  attain  Happy  Life 

MARTIAL,  the  things  that  do  attain 
The  happy  life  be  these,  I  find:— 
The  richesse  left,  not  got  with  pain ; 
The  fruitful  ground,  the  quiet  mind  \ 

B.  ditacbetli]  i.e.  is  drcncbed  or  drowned. 


HENRY  HOWARD,  EARL  OF  SURREY 

The  equal  friend ;    no  grudge,  no  strife  { 
No  charge  of  mie,  nor  govenwni.L- ; 

Without  disease,  the  healthful  life ; 
The  household  of  continuance ; 

The  mean  diet,  no  delicate  fare  i 

True  wisdom  job'd  with   simplcntss ; 

The  night  discharged  of  all  care, 

Where  wine  the  wit  may  not  oppress. 

The   faithful  wife,   without  debate ; 

Such  sleeps  as  may  beguile  the  night  ■ 
Contented  with  thine  own  estate 

Nti  wish  for  death,  ne  feu  hts  raw 


NICHOLAS   GRIMALD 

42.  j4  True  Love 

■519-^ 

VVTHAT    sweet    relief    the    showere    to    thirsty   plants 

**       we  see, 
What   dear   delight  the    blooms  to  bees,   my  true  lore   is 

to  me! 
As  fresh  and  lusty  Ver  foul  Winter  doth  exceed — 
As    morning    bright,    with    scarlet    sky,    doth     pass    the 

CTcning's  weed — 
As  mellow  pears  above  the  crabs  esteemed  be — 
So    doth    my   lore   surmount  them   all,  whom   yet   I   h^ 

to  seel 
The  oak  shall  olives  bear,  the  Iamb  the  lion  fray, 
The  owl  shall  match  the  nightingale  in  tuning  of  her  lay, 

43.  Inj]  aflrighL 


NICHOLAS  GRIMALD 

Or  I  my  love  let  slip  out  of  mine  entire  heart, 

So  deep  reposid  in  my  breast  is  she  for  her  desart! 

Fm-  many  Ues»M  gifts,  O  happy,  happy  land ! 

Where  Mars  and   Pallas  stHve  to  make  th«r  glory  most 

to  stand  I 
Yet,  land,  more  is  thy  bliss  that,  in  this  cniel  age, 
A  Venus'  imp  tbon  bast   bnnight  fbnh,   so  steadfast  and 

so  sage. 
Among  the  Muses  Nine  a  tenth  if  Jove  would  make, 
And  to  the  Graces  Three  a  fourth,  her  would  Apollo  take. 
Let  some  for  honour  hunt,  and  hoard  the  massy  gold : 
With  her  so  I  may  live  and  die,  my  weal  cannot  be  told 


ALEXANDER  SCOTT 
43.  A  Bequest  of  His  Heart 

LJ  ENCE,  heart,  with  her  that  must  depan, 
^  '     And  bald  thee  with  thy  soveraue  I 
For  I  had  liever  want  ane  heart, 

Nor  have  the  heart  that  dois  me  pain. 

Therefore,  go,  vnth  thy  luve  remain, 
And  let  me  leif  thus  unmolest ; 

And  see  that  thou  come  not  again, 
But  Iride  with  her  thou  luvis  best. 

Sen  she  that  I  have  servit  lang 

Is  to  depart  so  suddenly, 
Address  thee  now,  for  thou  sail  gang 

And  bear  thy  lady  company. 

4}.  hald]  keep.  fen]  lince 


ROBERT  WEVER 
^X'  ^^  ToHtb  is  TleasMTt 

TN  •  liaibour  ipvnc  atJepe  whems  I  \ay, 

*     Tbe  tijnlm  song  xwctc  in  the  middn  of  th* 

I  dreamH  fast  of  mirth  and  pUy: 

In  jpouth  U  pleasure,  in  youth  is  [ileaauK. 

Mftliouglit  I  walked  BiiU  to  and  fro, 
And  from  her  com|jany  I  could  not  p}— 
But  when  1  wikcd  it  was  not  so : 

III  yowit  is  plcasumr,  in  jrouth  is  plcisoit. 

Therefor*  my  hart  b  awrly  pyghl 
Of  her  alone  to  have  a  tight 
Whidi  is  my  joy  and  hartcK  delight: 

Id  youth  is  pleasure,  tn  youth  19  fktstn. 

RICHARD  EDWARDES 
,^(f.  Amantium  Itae 

TN  going  to  my  naked  bed  as  one  that  would  liare  slept, 
*   I  heard  a  wife  sing  to  her  child,  thji  long  before  had ' 
She  sighed  sore  and  sang  full  s*'eet,  to  bring  the  babe  to  rest, 
That  would  not  cease  but  cried  still,  in  sucking  st  bcr  brri 
She  was  full  weary  of  her  wutcli,  and  grievid  with  her  ch 
She  rocki^d  it  and  rated  it,  till  that  on  her  it  smiled. 
Then  did  she  ny,  Now  have  I  found  this  jirovcrb  tnx  to  1 
The  falling  out  of  faithful  friends  renewing  is  of  love. 

Thca  took  I  paper,  pen,  and  ink,  this  proverb  for  to  wrii^  j 
Id  rejpuer  for  to  rcnwn  of  such  a  worthy  wight : 
As  sive  proceeded  thus  in  song  uiito  her  little  bnt. 
Much  mattei  uttet'd  she  of  weight,  in  place  whereas  she 


RICHARD   EDWARDES 

And  prorM  {Jain  there  was  no  beast,  nor  creature  bearing  life, 
Could  well  be  known  to  live  in  love  without  discord  and  strife : 
Then  kissM  she  her  little  babe,  and  sware  by  God  above. 
The  blliog  out  of  faichfii]  friends  renewing  is  of  lore. 

She  Bid  that  neither  king  nor  prince  nor  lord  coutd  live  aright, 
Until  their  puissance  they  did  proves  their  nunhood  and  their 

might. 
When  manhood  shall  be  matched  so  that  fear  can  take  no  place. 
Then  weaiy  works  ma^  warriors  each  other  to  embrace, 
Aod  left  their  force  that  failed  them,  which  did  consume  the  rout. 
That  nii^t  before  have  lived  their  time,  their  strength  and 

nature  out: 
Tlien  did  she  Mog  as  one  that  thou^t  no  man  could  her  reprove, 
Tbc  fdling  out  of  faithful  friends  renewbg  is  of  love. 

She  said  she  saw  no  dsh  nor  fowl,  nor  beast  within  her  haunt, 
l^t  met  a  stranger  in  their  kind,  but  could  give  it  a  taunt : 
Since  flesh  might  not  endure,  but  rest  must  wrath  succeed, 
And  force  the  6ght  to  fall  to  play  in  pasture  where  they  feed, 
So  noble  nature  can  well  end  the  work  she  hath  begun, 
And  bridle  well  that  will  not  cease  her  tragedy  in  some: 
Thns  in  song  she  oft  rehearsed,  as  did  her  well  behove. 
The  falling  out  of  faithful  friends  renewing  is  of  love. 

I  marvel  much  pardy  (quoth  she)  for  to  behold  the  rout, 

To  see  man,  woman,  boy  and  beast,  to  toss  the  world  about : 

Some  kneel,  some  crouch,  some  beck,  some  check,  and  some 

can  smoothly  smile, 
And  some  embrace  others  in  arm,  and  there  think  many  a  wile. 
Some  stand  aloof  at  cap  and  knee,  some  humble  and  i^ome  stout. 
Vet  ifv  they  never  friends  in  deed  until  they  once  fall  out  i 
Thns  ended  she  her  song  and  said,  before  she  did  remove, 
Tt«  falling  out  of  faithful  friends  renewing  is  of  love. 

"i  n 


GEORGE  GASCOIONE 

^,  yi  Lover's  Luliab/ 

CING  IvUdbf,  u  wotncD  <lo, 

^     Whfrcvith  thcf  bring  their  btbcs  to 

And  lollabjr  can  I  sing  toot 

A>  womanly  u  can  the  ben. 
With  lullaby  they  iniU  llie  child; 
And  if  I  be  not  much  begoited. 
Full  many  a  wmdkid  babe  bwc  I, 
Which  mult  be  still'd  wkh  lullaby. 

First  lultaby  my  youthful  y««. 
It  is  now  Lime  to  go  to  bed: 

l-'or  croottid  age  aad  hoary  bun 

Have  won  tlie  haren  irithin  my  head. 

With  lullaby,  tlicn,  youili  be  still ; 

With  lulLiby  content  iliy  will; 

Since  couiagc  ^uailx  and  comes  behind, 

Co  »leqi,  and  to  beguile  thy  mind! 

Next  ludaby  my  gazing  eyes, 
Which  wonted  were  to  glance  apace  i 

For  cTi-ry  gUus  may  now  sulEce 
To  show  the  furrows  in  thy  face. 

With   lullaby  then  wink  awhile ; 

With  lutlal^  youi  look*  beguile; 

Let  no  iux  face,  nor  beauty  bright, 

Emicc  you  eft  with  v^d  delight. 

And  lullaby  my  wanloa  will ; 

Let  rcaM>n'v  rule  now  reign  thy  thought; 
Since  all  too  late  I  iind  by  skill 

How  dear  I  have  thy  fanden  bought; 

N 


GEORGE  GASCOIGNE 

With  lulkby  now  uke  thine  ease, 
With  lullaby  thy  doubts  appease ; 
For  trust  to  this,  if  thou  be  stilly 
My  body  shall  obey  thy  will. 

Thus  lullaby  my  youth,  mine  eyes, 
My  will,  iiiy  ware,  and  all  that  wast 

I  can  DO  more  delays  devise; 

But  welcome  pain,  let  pleasure  pass. 

With  lullaby  now  take  your  leave; 

With  lullaby  your  dreams  deceive; 

And  when  you  rise  with  waking  eye, 

Remember  then  this  lullaby. 


ALEXANDER  MONTGOMERIE 
ff.  The  Night  is  Near  Gone 

I5to!-iaio) 

T_J  EY !    now  the  day  dawis ; 
■^  *      The  jolly  cock  crawis; 
Now  shroudis  the  shawls 

Thro'  Nature  anoo. 
The  thissel-cock  cryis 
On  lovers  wha  lyis : 
Now  skaiilis  the  skyis; 

The  nicht  is  neir  gone. 

The  fieldis  ouerflowis 
With  gowans  that  growis, 
Quhair  lilies  Uke  low  is 
As  red  as  the  rone. 

4i.  ihroadii]  dreii  themielvei.  ihawit]  woodi.  ikaillii] 

don.         £owui)]  daUie*.        low]  flame.        rone]  lovan. 

73 


ALEXANDER  M0^^^G0MER1E 

Tbe  tunle  tb»  inw  is, 
With  notes  that  renewiii, 
Her  furty  punuii  i 

Tlw  iiicht  n  ocir  gooc 

Now  fiairtis  with  hmdia 
Cueruini  to  their  Iciodis, 
Hie  uu&is  tlicir  tyfxlis 

On  grauod  (|ubak  they  £roM. 
Now  hnrdioni*,  with  hairi% 
Aye  fosah  in  pairis; 
Quhilk  dtJy  dccUHs 

The  nkht  is  nrif  goee. 

The  Ksson  exc«'lli( 

Throng  swocincv^  that  smrllifi 

Now  Captd  cnnii«llis 

Our  hoirtis  «chone 
On  Vtttm  wha  waikis, 
To  muse  on  our  maiki*. 
Syne  sing  for  ibrir  mIIus— 

'  Thi  nidit  b  oeir  gpae  I " 

Al]  courageous  knichtis 

Agtoil  Oie  day  dichlis 

Tht  brrin-pbic  that  bright  is 

To  fi^t  with  their  fone. 
The  stonid  Keed  Slanijiis 
Through  courage,  and  crampci. 
Syne  on  the  I.-mJ  lampit : 

The  niehl  is  ncir  gone. 

palitj]  pailsrr,  tnal*.  tnni*]  cany.  Ijmdlt]  antltrt. 

BTOh]  Erean,  bdl .        huicbonf i]  hcdgthojp,  ■  Brchiwu'        mailtii)  j 
iMt<i>      fbae]  (on.      itoDed  ttecd]  ftanka.       crHnpb]  pc 
U»i4«]  gallops. 


ALEXANDER  MONTGOMERIE 

Tbr  frcilcH  on  Mdis 
Tlat  wight  wapias  weiktU 
With  shymog  bright  ifaiel(& 

At  Titaa  in  trone; 
Stiff  «p«mi  in  ra>ti« 
Oacr  eonem  cit^b 
Arc  bnkc  on  ilicir  brcistisi 

Tlie  mchl  is  neir  gooc. 

So  kird  are  th«ir  bittis, 
Soae  swejii,  mok  xittis, 
And  lemF  pcffotcg  flittis 

On  grounil  qohilc  they  grooc 
Synt  groamb  ihjti  giy  n 
Oa  blookis  that  bnyis 
Vtih  SMordis  uuyis: — 

Tbe  tiicliL  a  oar  £onc 

IW  STILL.  BISHOP  OP  BATH  AND  WELLS 

Jo//r  Gt»d  Ah  and  OU 

T  CASTt'OT  CM  bat  littk  meu, 
'      Mf  ttonudi  b  nM  goodi 
'£«  anv  I  think  that  I  caa  driak 

With  luiB  ilut  wnrs  a  hood. 
Though  I  £0  bare,  tkkr  ^  no  ore, 

I  nothing  im  i-told  j 
I  mtr  mj  (kin  to  full  wiihio 
Of  joDy  (ood  kIf  and  old. 

Back  nd  iid«  f;o  bare,  go  btref 
Doih  hat  ackd  hand  go  coldi 

«ani««a.  «i£til  wapuu]  ttuul  weapmL 

TUan  (^  ten),  ot  lud  <  m.'  Hltlii]  at* 

whtepdtefa. 


BISHOP  STILL 

Htx,  bftly,  God  send  diw  good  ale  enou{)^| 
Whether  it  be  new  or  old. 

I  lore  no  roa«  but  n  nut-brown  tout, 

And  1  crab  laid  in  ihc  £rr  t 
A  little  bmd  shall  rfo  mc  stndt 

Much  btrjid  I  not  desire. 
No  fro§i  nor  snoiu,  no  mod,  I  Kow, 

Can  hurt  mc  if  I  wold; 
I  am  w  wnpji'd  and  lliorau|;bly  tapp'd 

Of  jolljr  ffiod  ale  and  old. 

Back  and  xidc  go  bare,  go  bare,  &c> 

And  Tib,  my  wife,  thit  as  her  life 

Lovcth  well  got>d  ale  to  seek. 
Full  oft  drinki  she  till  ye  may  we 

The  tcirt  run  down  her  check : 
Then  doili  she  tmwl  to  me  the  bowl 

Eien  as  a  nultworm  should. 
And  »ith,  *  Sweetheart,  I  took  my  pin 

Of  this  jolly  good  ale  and  old.' 

Back  and  side  go  bare,  go  bate,  tec 

Now  let  them  drtnk  till  they  nod  and  wink. 

Even  a*  good  fellows  should  do; 
They  tball  nnt  miss  to  hatv  the  bliss 

Good  ale  doth  bring  men  to; 
And  all  poor  souls  tb.it  have  Kour'd  bowls 

Or  have  them  lustily  iroll'd, 
God  save  the  liies  of  them  and  their  wives. 
Whether  they  be  younj>  or  old. 

Back  and  side  go  bare,  go  bare ; 

Both  foot  and  hand  go  cold ; 

But,  belly,  God  !cnd  thee  good  ale  cnou^i 

Whether  it  be  new  or  old. 


ANONYMOUS  (SCOTTISH) 
p.    ff^ien  Fhra  bad  O'er/ret  t&c  Firtb 

QimEN  Flora  had  o'crfrct  tbr  &tb 
Id  Ma;  of  mry  moorth  cjomo; 
QiAcn  merle  aed  imvH  sinfis  nhh  ntrlli 
Sweet  nid&Dg  in  tlie  sbawu  ahmi; 
Otthm  all  luvaris  rejotdt  bene 
A»d  most  ilesirous  of  tbcir  pre<r, 

I  benrd  a  ktstjr  juvar  nene 
^'I  IvTv,  but  I  dare  nocbt  assay!' 

'Stnms  m  tlie  fotDS  I  duily  prove. 

But  yet  wiiti  paiiaicc  I  tnncDe, 
I  an  so  fetterit  wkh  the  hite 

Only  of  ny  lady  sbrcn, 

QnhiUt  fiir  ber  beauty  midu  be  quce 
NiUre  n  craftily  alwny 

Has  done  dcpaiot  that  cwect  tcrtse: 
^iiQiihoni  I  luTv  I  dare  nocht  assay. 

'  Sbe  is  w  bricht  of  hyd  and  hue, 

I  kive  Ur  hcf  aloee,  I  ween) 
b  Mtte  her  luve  that  nuy  eschew, 

ThM  blink)!  of  that  duloe  amenc ; 

80  ewndy  ckir  are  bcr  tva  ceo 
Tbt  ibe  mae  luTam  dob  aJTniy 

"nan  ercr  of  Greece  d>d  fair  Helene: 
— Qdbom  1   b*r  I  d.tre  (Mcht  a»ay !  * 

diawis]  vo^t.       kbcea)  beaMUtl.      «ca«l 
h}rf]  ifcis.  UioUi)  set*  a  [llaipM.  Oulce 

■d  ploMM  <■(•       inae]  mor. 


fl- 


ANONYMOUS  (SCOTTISH) 
Luit/  May 


iMi< 


r\  LUSTY  May,  with  Flora  ([tKoi ! 
^-^     The  baldly  drDp»  from  Pboebut  jhccn 

PrcluciAnd  beanu  bcfoK  the  daj: 
By  thai  Dissa  growis  grtvn 

Tlirough  gbdness  of  ihU  lusty  Ma^. 

Then  Espeni^  that  U  ao  bricht, 
Til  woliil  hairtis  caicis  his  light, 

With  bankU  that  bioomi*  on  cnry  bne; 
And  Echouris  »c  shed  forth  of  their  licht 

Through  gladness  of  this  lusty  May. 

Bitdis  on  bewb  of  erery  birth, 
Kejoidng  nods  nukand  their  irartb 

Richt  pleuntly  u|>on  the  spray. 
With  fiourishingis  o'er  field  and  fiith 

Tbiough  gladness  of  this  lusty  May. 

All  luvaris  iloi  an  in  care 
To  their  ladies  they  do  rcfoir 

In  fresh  momtngli  befoic  the  day, 
And  ire  io  mirth  ay  mair  and  mair 

Through  gUdness  of  this  Iwtj  May. 


J2,        My  Heart  is  Hieh  Ahwc 

■6iSC«M.| 

Nil  Y  heart  is  hig^  abotv,  my  body  U  fidJ  of  blin, 
^"      For  I  am  set  in  lure  as  wtll  as  I  would  wi» 
I  luve  my  lidy  pure  and  shi:  luiis  tne  again, 
1  am  ha  eerviturc,  she  i&  my  soTcrjne: 

f  >■  ihecn]  bright         lit]  into.         Khoarii]  ibowerti 
boti£b».       Llnh]  kind.  %*.  win]  «i>b. 


A^•oNY^fous 


Shm  b  my  trrj  hnn,  I  ani  her  howp  vid  bdll, 

She  u  my  joy  innn,  I  iun  licr  lum  Ital ; 

1  m  bn  bond  and  thnll,  she  a  at  my  conunindj 

I  TO  peqwnul  her  nuo,  both  foot  ifld  hosd; 

Tbr  ihing  that  nwy  bn  plcuc  my  body  »all  fulfil; 

Qoluivvcr  har  diMK.  k  dor*  my  body  ill. 

My  bird,  toy  bonsy  anc,  my  trader  babe  tctium. 

My  lilt,  nty  bff  ■Unr,  ray  IJkiag  and  my  luail 

Wc  iuvrcbuijp  our  hairtis  ia  others  armn  soft, 

Sptnckw  we  tva  dc|uirti»,  uaad  our  bvU  oft. 

We  mMrn  when  Ikfat  day  dawt,  we  plain  tlie  nichi  »  Hbofl, 

Vft  cunr  the  cock  that  crawi*,  that  biodcru  our  diffort. 

I  gluwlGn  «p  ^hast,  qubra  T  brr  tnit*  on  nicbi, 

AmI  in  ray  oxter  fut  I  find  the  bow^trr  rkht; 

'DwB  Uogyor  on  me  Ties  Itke  Morplwiu  tbc  matr, 

QMk  nmtt  me  tftiae  lad  to  my  tweet  repair. 

Aad  tbcQ  b  bU  tbc  Mrrow  fattb  of  nnxmbnocc 

thai  rrer  I  liad  a-fonow  in  luris  obKTvance. 

TliM  BCrer  I  do  icm,  m  lusty  a  life  1  lead, 

Qohen  that  1  list  to  test  the  well  of  wtxnanhrid. 

Ltirarn  in  |>aiB,  I  pray  Cod  Mod  you  sic  renicid 

Aa  I  bave  nidK  aad  day,  you  U>  dcfcod  from  drid  I 

llnvlijfe  be  ever  Inie  unto  your  Ud>n  free, 

And  tbey  will  do  yoa  rue  a»  mine  baa  done  on  me. 


WI|  h^bh.       i*nn]  Imnrd.       vcnMl  ddlKbtful.        fjlowKn] 
UUfc^awkkioc^        oMaiiampiU        a- [enow]  aforetime. 


NUMBERS  FROM 

ELIZABETHAN  MISCELLANIES   &   SONG-BOOK 
BY  UNNAMED  OR  UNCERTAIN  AUTHORS 

Si.  A  Traise  of  His  Lady 

TolUl'i  Uiiallnir.  ijjf ' 

/"*  IVE  place,  you  ladies,  and  begone  I 
^~^      Boast  not  yourselTes  at  all  I 
For  liere  at  haod  approachetli  onc^ 
Whose  face  will  stain  you  aU.] 

The  viitae  of  her  lively  looks 

Excels  the  precious  stone; 
1  wish  to  luTC  none  other  books 

To  read  or  look  upon. 

In  each  of  her  two  crystal  eyei 

Sroileth  a  naked  boy; 
It  would  you  all  in  heart  suffice 

To  see  that  lamp  of  joy. 

I  thbk  Nature  hath  lost  the  mould 

Where  she  her  shape  did  take; 
Or  else  I  doubt  if  Nature  could 

So  &ir  a  creature  make. 

She  may  be  well  compared 

Unto  the  Phceoix  kind. 
Whose  like  was  never  seen  or  heard. 

That  any  man  can  find. 


ANONYMOUS 

In  Efe  she  tt  Duna  "^^n*. 

Id  troth  rmdopcy; 
la  word  and  c-fcc  in  dctd  scexUbn. 

—Whit  will  ygu  more  we  ay? 

If  all  tbe  woHd  were  loaight  m  far, 

Who  caaU  £nd  >ach  a  wight  i 
Ho  boKy  twiitkkih  likt  a  tiw 

Vnthia  the  bwj  night. 

H«r  rosol  cokxv  cotncx  and  gon 

With  mch  a  cooidy  gnct. 
More  raddkr,  too,  than  doth  the  rose, 

WiUiia  her  IJTciy  face. 

At  Bacchnt*  leau  none  shall  her  mcc^ 

Ne  It  no  wioUHt  pby. 
Nor  {umf  is  aa  open  ttrcct, 

Nor  )p^'*'"£  as  a  tasf. 

The  nodeft  minh  that  «he  doth  use 
Ii  mix'd  with  ihamelutneM  i 

All  vice  she  doth  wliolljr  tcfiae, 
And  hateth  idksen. 

O  Lordl  it  b  a  wortd  to  «tt 

How  Tirttw  can  Rfoir, 
And  deck  in  her  radi  honesty, 

Wbon  Nature  made  «o  bir. 

Trelf  the  doth  M  far  «««I 

Ow  women  nowadays, 
At  doth  tlic  jdillower  a  weed ; 

And  tDore  a  thousand  way^ 


ANONYMOUS 

How  might  I  do  to  get  a  giaff 

Of  this  unspotted  tree? 
— For  all  the  rest  are  plain  but  chaf^ 
Which  seem  good  corn  to  be. 

This  gift  alone  I  ahal]  her  gi»ej 
When  death  doth  what  he  can, 

Her  iionest  fame  shall  ever  live 
Within  the  mouth  of  man. 

I  by  Jaiir  Iftjv 


F4.  To  Her  Sea-faring  Lover 

Tsird'B  Uitc«U4ny,  V557' 

CHALL  I  thus  ner  long,  and  be  no  «1nt  the  semi 
^     And  shall  I  still  complaio  to  thee,  the  which  me 

will  not  hear! 
Alas!    say  nay!    say  nay  I   and  be  no  more  so  dumb, 
Uut  open   thou  thy  manly  mouth  and   say  that  thou  will 
come : 
Whereby  my  heart  may  think,  although  I  see  not  thee, 
Tliat  thou  wiit  come — thy  word  so  sware — if  thoo  a  live 
man  be. 
The  roaring  hugy  waves  they  threaten  my  poor  ghost, 
And  toss  thee  up  and  down  the  seas  in  danger  to  be  lost. 
Shall  they  not  make  me  fear  that  they  hare  swallowed 
thee? 
— But  as  thou  art  most  sure  alive,  so  wilt  thou  come  to  me. 

Whereby  I  shall  go  see  thy  ship  tide  on  the  strand, 
And  think  and  say  Lo  where  be  eemet  and  Sitrt  brrt  mB 
he  land: 

S4   ne«iel  num. 


ANONYMOUS 

n>J  then  I  shiU  lift  up  to  tfac«  my  Ijttk  haod, 
tb(M  ibak  tbiak  Uiioc  bean  in  esse,  in  bolth  to  sc« 
nM  uwd. 
Aokl  if  tbon  come  indrnl  (u  Christ  th<«  smd  to  do  I) 
anta  wbJcb  mifx  tltcc  now  xhill  ihcn  embrace  [aiut 
hold]  tbcc  too: 
Eacb  ran  to  tmy  joint  ihe  liitrly  blood  sliall  spread 
Which    now   for   wiat   of  thy  glad    sight  duth  ahow  full 
pkle  and  dead. 
Uut  if  tlMQ  ilip  thy  troth,  and  do  not  cocne  at  ill, 
A»  mniMM  fai  the  dock  do  unite  to  call  for  dnth  I  sliall : 
To  plcu*  both  (hy  falte  hcan  and  tid  tnyarlf  from  woe, 
That  railiir  had  to  die  ia  iraih  than  I>tc  forsaken  so  I 


//.         TAe  Faithlesj  Sbepherifess 

^^HILE^  that  the  fun  with  hii  heam«  hot 

Scoecbld  the  fniiis  in  vale  and  nwuciaiii, 
PbUon  tbe  sbeplMTd,  btc  forgot, 
SiaiB{  beside  a  crynal  fountain 

la  shadow  of  a  green  oak  lice, 
Upon  hi*  pipe  thU  *ong  f  lay'd  be : 
Ad'iru,  Love,  adten.  Love,  untrue  I.ove ! 
Uurae  Love,  niurtie  Low,  adieu.  Lovei 
Yo«r  mind  ia  light,  won  tost  for  new  lore. 

So  long  as  I  was  ta  your  ught 

I   was  your  beait,  your  soul,  your  treasure  i 
And  evcTBiore  you  aobb'd  and  sigh'd 
Boming  in  llunn  beyond  nil  meEunre; 

—Three  day*  endoml  yoiir  love  to  me. 
And  it  wn  lost  io  other  three! 


ANONYMOUS 


AdicUf  Lorr,  adi««,  Lot?,  vaxrot  LonI 
Uncnie  Love,  anuve  Love,  adieu.  Low! 
Yoiu  luind  a  liglvc,  Moa  lost  for  nnv 

Anocber  nhqihnd  you  did  sw. 

To  whom  your  hnn  wss  soon  «oclwnid; 
Full  toon  your  love  wis  Itajit  ffom  mc^ 
Fdl  fiooD  lay  j^lacc  lie  hid  oUaintd. 

Soon  came  a  tliiiil  your  lore  to  win. 
And  we  were  out  and  )ie  was  in. 
Adieu,  Love,  odteu,  Love,  unime  Love ! 
Unlnie  Love,  untrue  Love,  adieu,  Love  I 
Vmir  mind  b  light,  soon  lost  for  Dew  loie. 

Sure  you  bare  made  rae  passing  glad 

Tlut  you  your  mind  so  soon  removM, 
Befote  that  I  the  leisure  had 
To  choa»  yon  fof  my  best  beloTM: 

For  all  ray  love  was  pass'd  and  done 
Two  days  before  it  was  begun. 
Adieu,  Lot«,  adieu,  Love,  untrue  Love! 
Uoimc  LoTc,  uDUuc  Loiv,  adieu,  Love! 
Your  mind  is  liglu,  soon  lost  for  new  love 


fff.  CraiM  Age  and  Tourh 

CRABB^.D  Age  and  Youth 
Cannot  live  together: 
Youth  it  full  of  pIcMancc, 
Age  is  full  of  care } 
Youtli  like  suntroer  mote, 
Age  like  winter  wtuberi 


ANONYMOUS 

Voutli  like  soauaer  bnvc, 

Age  lil;e  winter  \xat. 

Yovih  IS  full  of  »fort, 

Age's  breath  U  ihort; 

Youih  is  ninibte.  Age  a  bfflci 

Youth  is  Iioi  and  bold, 

Agt  is  wtalt  «nd  coldi 

Youth  is  wild,  and  Age  it  tame. 

Afe,   I  do  aUiof  thee; 

Yonih,  I  do  aAon  thet; 

O,  my  Lotr,  ny  Late  i*  jwongi 

Age,  I  do  defy  tbw: 

0,  sweet  ahrplicrd,  hie  tbcc! 

For  meihinlu  thou  mrfit  too  loajt- 

;  by  tfiHam  Si^tfifiarr 

Tt^      7hrUida's  Lmx<:dl 

H^da.  /^ORYDON,  arise,  my  Cor7<k.Q  I 

^-^     Titan  thineth  dear. 
CtTfJm.  Who  i»  h  that  calleth  Corydon  i 
WTio  is  It  that  I  htar? 
Pi^  Phyllida,  ihy  true  Vm,  cUletb  thee, 
AHm  itieii,  arise  ihcti, 

Arise  and  keep  ihy  flock  with  me  I 
Ctr.   Phyiltda,  my  iroe  \att,   is  it  she  i 
I  CORK  tiled,  I  oome  then, 

I  come  and  keep  toy  flock  with  thee 

Pbjf.  Here  are  chetrio  rife  for  my  Corydon| 
Eat  them  for  my  »ke. 
Here'r  my  mtcn  pijw,  my  lovely  one, 
Spon  for  thee  to  nuke. 

•r 


ANONYMOUS 

PI^L  Here  are  threads,  107  true  \an,  fine  u  lilk. 
To  knit  thee,  to  knh  thee, 

A  pair  of  nockiDgs  iriiite  as  milk. 
Cor.  Here  are  renJs,  ray  true  lore,  fine  and  neat. 
To  make  thee,  to  make  thee, 
A  boDitet  to  withstand  the  faeat. 

Phjl.  I  will  gather  Sowers,  my  Corydoo, 
To  set  ■□  thy  ca[). 
Cor.  I  will  gather  pears,  my  loTely  one, 
To  put  in  thy  lap. 
Pbyl.  I  will  buy  my  true  lore  garters  gay, 
For  Sundays,  for  Sundays, 

To  wear  about  his  legs  w  talL 
Cor,  I  will  buy  my  true  love  yellow  say, 
For  Sundays,  for  Sundays, 

To  wear  about  her  middle  small. 

PbjL  When  my  Corydon  sits  on  a  hill 
Making  melody — 


ANONYMOUS 

PbjI.  Cynthia  Eodymion  had  refused, 
Prefcning,  preferring. 

My  Corydon  to  play  withal. 
Car.  The  Queen  of  Love  had  been  excused 
Bequeathing,  bequeathing, 

My  Phyllida  the  golden  balL 

PbjI.  Yonder  comes  my  mother,  Corydon  t 
Whidier  shall  I  dy  f 
Cor.  Under  yonder  beech,  my  lovely  one, 

While  she  passeth  by. 
Phjl.  Say  to  her  thy  true  love  was  not  here; 
Remember,  remember, 

To-morrow  b  another  day. 
Cor.  Dvint  me  not,  my  tme  love,  do  not  fear; 
Farewell  then,  farewell  then ! 
Heaven  keep  our  loves  alway! 

fS.  A  Tcdlar 

Jebo  Dowlind*!  Stce^i  Batk  tf 
S^rtjr  or  Airj,  jooo 

T^INE  knacks  for  ladies !    cheap,  choice,  brave,  and  new, 
*      Good  pennyworths— biit  money  cannot  move: 
I  keep  a  fair  but  for  the  Fair  to  view — 

A  beggar  may  be  liberal  of  love. 
Though  all  my  wares  be  trash,  the  heart  is  true, 
The  heart  is  true. 

Great  gifts  are  guiles  and  look  for  gifts  again ; 

My  trifles  come  as  treasures  from  my  mind : 
It  b  a  precious  jewel  to  be  plain ; 

Sometimes  in  shell  the  orieni'st  pearls  we  find; — 
Of  others  take  a  sheaf,  of  me  a  grain  1 

Of  me  a  grain ! 


ANONYMOUS 


T9' 


Hey  nmnf  vof 

OriMCtwtt  US. 
I_I  EY  noony  do  1 

''  ^     Mrn  ore  fools  thtt  wuh  lo  die  I 

Is 't  not  fioc  to  dance  aad  sing 

When  the  beDs  of  deuh  do  ring  f 

Is't  not  fine  to  iwini  ia  wine. 

And  nun  upon  the  toe, 

And  sing  hejr  nunny  no  I 

When  the  winds  blow  and  Ae  teas  Sow* 

Hey  nonny  no ! 


Treparatioat 


So. 

VET  if  His  Majesty,  our  >OKm£a  lord, 
*     Should  of  his  own  leoord 
Kricndfy  himMlf  inriie, 

And  My  '  I'll  tif  your  gue«  to-morrow  ni^t,' 
How  should  we  silr  ourselves,  c&II  »o&  cominuid 
All  hands  to  woikl     '  Let  no  man  icSe  Maadt 

'Set  me  fine  Spanish  tables  ia  tlie  ballf 

Sec  they  tw  lilted  aU; 

Let  there  be  loom  lo  est 

And  order  (.ilcen  that  there  want  no  meat. 

Sec  every  Konce  and  candlestick  made  bright, 

That  willioul  tapers  tliey  may  gire  a  hght. 

'  Look  to  the  presence :    are  (he  carpets  spi»d. 

The  daxie  o'er  the  head. 

The  cukhionit  in  the  chain. 

And  all  the  candles  lighted  on  the  uairt  i 

Perfiime  the  chambers  and  ia  any  caw 

Let  each  man  give  attendance  in  his  place !  * 


ANONYMOUS 


I 


Thu*,  !f  >  king  wtn  ramias,  would  wt  do ; 

Asd  \vnn  good  rrasnn  loot 

For  'bs  a  d»Kous  thing 

To  sliow  all  hononr  lo  sa  nrthly  Idng, 

And  after  all  oar  tnmil  and  ottT  cost. 

So  Ik  be  plesoed,  to  think  no  labour  lost 

Bat  »  the  coming  of  Ihe  Kbg  of  Hmwh 

All's  wt  at  tix  and  WTcn; 

Wc  wallow  in  our  sin, 

Chitst  unnot  find  a  chamber  in  (he  tnn. 

We  ententia  Htm  always  like  a  stranf>er. 

And,  a*  at  fint,  «tiU  lodge  Him  in  the  tnanger. 

Tie  Neva  Jerusalem 

OtrtfKLvtAtn-  B,  JUM4,  itoi 

HIERUSAtEM,  my  Iwppy  Iwroe, 
iffbm  ihall  I  come  to  thee  >. 
Wbea  duO  mj  sorrows  hare  an  end, 
Tby  joys  whes  thall  I  see  ? 

0  happy  hartionr  of  the  Saints ! 

O  sweet  aad  pleasant  soil  I 
la  thM  no  Mrrow  may  be  feoiid. 

No  grief,  DO  csre,  cw  umI. 

IWe  fast  Mid  Vacre  cannot  dwell. 

^Kn  enry  bean  no  sway ; 
l^ere  is  DO  hnpger,  heat,  not  coM, 

Bat  pfeasurc  every  way. 

Tby  walh  art  Bade  of  precious  Monesi, 

Thy  bulwarks  diamonds  sifuare: 
Tby  £am  are  of  nf^  onent  pearly 

Exceeding  rich  and  rue. 


Thy  turrets  and  tliy  pinnacles 

With  carbuncles  do  shine ; 
Thy  very  streets  are  paved   with  gold, 

Surpassing  clear  and  fine. 

Ah,  my  sweet  home,  HierusaJem, 

Would  God  I  were  in  thee ! 
Would  God  my   woes  were  at  an  end, 

Thy  joys  tliat  I  might  see ! 

Thy  gardens  and  thy  galknc  waUta 

Continually  are  green ; 
There  grows  such  sweet  and  pleasant  floWv'ts 

As  nowhere  else  are  seen. 

Qmte  thnmgh  the  streets,  in&  nl*er  waM, 

The  flood  of  Life  doth  flow; 
Upon  whose  banks  on  every  side 

The  wood  of  Life  doth  grow. 

There  trees  for  evermore  bear  ftuit. 

And  evermore  do  spring; 
There  evermore  the  angels  VX, 

And  evermore  do  sing. 

Our  Lady  sings  M^tufieal 

With  tones  surpassing  sweet ; 
And  all  the  vir^ns  bear  their  part, 

Sitting  about  her  feet. 

Hierusalera,  my  happy  home. 

Would  God  I  were  in  thee! 
Would  God  my  woes  were  at  id  end, 

Thy  joys  that  I  might  seel 


ANONYMOUS 


d*i. 


fcaras 


ftetm  }»•>'*  Sftid  Ifiti  tf 


T  OVE  winu'd  my  Hopes  and  Unj^il  i»c  how  to  fly 
^    Far  froa  buK  tunh,  but  not  to  moont  loo  k!^ ; 

For  mie  pknsure 

Lim  in  mr4<urf. 

Which  if  mm  foreako, 
BGaded  (facj  into  folly  ran  aad  gricF  Tor  pleanire  take. 

But  my  nin  Hopes,  (irowl  uf  theif  new-tau^t  diglM, 
EmixMir'd  louglit  to  woo  the  nn's  fiir  light, 

Whow  rich  brightness 

Morrd  thrtr  lighians 

To  upin  30  high 
Thu  all  Korcb't]  ud  coosiuard  willi  &e  now  dravm'd  ui 
woe  tlKy  be. 

And  none  bat  Love  thetr  woefiil  hap  did  rer. 
For  Love  did  know  (hit  their  dctire*  were  tniCi 

Though  fiu  frawnCd, 

And  oow  drowoU 

Tfcej  in  sotTow  dwell. 
It  was  tbc  porttt  tight  of  hcaVn  for  wliose  fnr  tore  t}iey  fell. 

Xjf  y  Lo«e  io  lier  aitin  doth  show  her  wii, 
^*^     It  doth  BO  veil  become  her ; 
For  eroy  season  she  hath  dressings  fit, 
For  Winter,  Spring,  and  SanniKr. 
Nft  beosty  the  doth  raiu 

When  all  her  robe^  are  oo ; 
But  Beauty's  tclf  she  it 
Wbeti  all  hn  rob»  are  gone. 

n 


ANONYMOUS 


tf^.     Hova  can  the  Heart  firget  bcrl 

AT  her  fair  hands  how  hate  I  grace  cntnatcd 
■**     With  pnyera  oft  tq^ited ! 
Yet  itUl  my  lore  is  iburaned: 
Hem,  let  her  go,  for  slie'll  Dot  be  coBrerted^ 

Say,  itudl  ihe  gof 

O  DO,  no,  no,  no,  no! 
She  ts  mott  liir,  tbough  she  be  iiuible-beivtc^ 

How  often  haie  my  ughs  declatvd  my  anguish, 

Vilierein  I  daily  hnguiib! 

Yet  still  she  doth  procure  it: 

Hc^n,  let  her  go,  for  1  can  not  eaduiv  it— 

Sfiy,  sh^l  she  go  \ 

O  no,  DO,  no,  no,  no! 
She  gave  the  wound,  and  she  alone  must  cue  it. 

But  shall  I  still  a  true  aflcciion  ou-e  her, 
Which  prayers,  Kighs,  tear*  do  show  her, 
And  sh^l  she  still  ditdaia  mc^ 
Heart,  Jet  her  go,  if  they  do  grace  cao  gVQ 

Sjy,  shall  she  gof 

O  no,  no,  DO,  no,  no ! 
She  ni&di;  me  bers,  and  hent  she  will  retain  me. 

But  if  the  lore  that  hath  and  still  doth  bum  bk 

No  loTc  at  length  rttutn  mc, 

Out  of  my  thoiighu  I'U  set  her : 

Hcut,  let  her  go,  O  lieart  I  pv^  tbee,  let  berl 

Say,  shull  she  go  \ 

O  no,  no,  no,  00,  DO  I 
Fix'd  in  the  heart,  how  can  ibc  heart  forget  brr! 

iF.otlV.  Da 


ANONYMOUS 
</.  Tears 

John  l>HU)>ft  rklf4tm4  Urn 
Out  tfSmt'  »r  Airi.  I«U1 

^V^EEP  yoa  oo  more,  wd  feunlain*) 
'^    What  n«d  ywo  flow  M)  &«t 
Look  bow  the  snowy  mouoiBint 

Heaven's  sua  dotb  gntlj  wuul 
B«t  my  Sun's  bctvcnly  eyes 
Virw  not  your  wcqitng, 
Thu  BOW  lies  slM[«ng 
Softly,  BOW  toft]/  lies 
SkcfiDg. 

Skep  u  a  nconctlbg, 

A  rtK  tlui  pracc  begets; 
Dotb  OM  the  sun  rise  ioiiling 
Whtt  Cur  at  even  he  »«»? 
Re«  you  ibca,  rcs^  sad  cyesl 
Melt  Dot  in  weeping, 
Wbik  she  lica  sleeping 
Softly,  now  lofUy  lies 
Slccftog. 


66. 


Mj  Lady's  Tears 


Batk  ^Samgt  «r  AIn,  ■«»] 


I   SAW  my  L»dy  weep. 
And  Sorrow  proi;<l  to  be  advancM  so 
Is  those  fair  eyes  «heie  all  polccttaiu  keep. 

Ber  boe  was  fiiU  of  woe ; 
Bill  SkJ)  a  woe  {believe  me)  is  win  more  bcaits 
Tbu  Hinfa  can  do  with  her  ecdcing  parts. 


Sorrow  was  there  made  fair, 
And  Passion  wise  ;    Tears  a  delightful  thing ; 
Silence  beyond  all  spt^ech,   a  wisdom  rare : 

She  made  her  sighs  lo  sing. 
And  all  things  with  so  swtet  a  sadness  move 
As  made  my   heart  at  once  both  grieve  and  lore. 


The  woiid  can  ibow,  lam  off  Jnlinirto 
Enon^  taoa^t  yoor  jajtd  look'vtecdii 

Teux  kill  die  heM^  bdine. 
O  itrire  not  to  be  excdlent  ia  an^.i    . 
Which  only  breeds  jour  bnriqr*'  (nathn*. 


ff7.  Sister,  Awake  ! 

TlwiBU  BXoob'i  Fir^  SH  »f 
EntUlX  UadrigMls.  itxt. 

C ISTER,  awake  \    close  Dot  yotir  eyes  1 
^     The  day  her  light  discloses, 
And  the  bright  moming  doth  arise 
Out  of  her  bed  of  roses. 

See  the  clear  sun,  the  worid's  Inight  eye, 

In  at  our  window  peeping: 
Lo,  how  he  blusheth  to  espy 

Us  idle  wenches  sleeping ! 

Therefore  awake!   make  haste,  I  say, 

And  let  us,  without  staying. 
All  in  our  gowns  of  green  so  gay 

lato  the  Park  a-mayingi 
96 


ANONYMOUS 
<y.  jDevoiim 

CatNaik  TsUu  Hbr>(-i  T»t  Fii^ 
l^rl^Atrt,  O't.,  lOOj 

UAIN  wodd  t  chaoj^  Uiat  nute 

'     To  wtud)  food  Love  huh  cIuxtdM  bk 

Loo];,  long  to  sbg  b/  rat^ 

FaDcying  tb*t  tluc  hann'd  nw; 

Vet  whca  thi*  thought  dodi  cook, 

'  Loit  it  liie  pNfcct  wa 
Of  «ll  dcUfihi,' 

I  have  DO  other  choice 

Either  (or  |icn  of  voice 
To  sl8£  or  write. 

0  Love  3    they^  wrong  thrc  IDUCfa 
Thu  uy  thy  sweet  is  bitiCT, 
When  thy  rich  fniit  i»  such 
As  sothtng  CMi  be  sweeter. 
Fair  boute  of  joy  and  bliss, 
Wlieie  ttuHt  pleasure  a, 

I  ilo  adure  thee: 

1  know  thee  what  tboa  an, 
I  Kife  thee  with  my  bean. 

And  fUl  bei'orc  thee. 


rfy.      Shtce  First  I  saw  j'our  Face 

tiMMW  rttttt  ttutk  tf 

Sift4r3  Kimdt,ttat 

CINCE  fim  I  taw  your  face  I  Kaolied  to  hoaour  aod 

■^     lesowti  ye; 

If  DOW    I    be    disdained    I    wi^    my    heart    bad    ne««T 


hMnm  ye. 

\  that  la«eil  and  yon  that  liked,  sball  we  begin  to 


WTUgle 


no,  my  botn  b  fast,  md  canaot  dttentutglc 


W 


ANONYMOUS 

ir  I  admire  or  fruK  you  too  m-jch,  that  fault 

ferpTc  met 
Or  if  my  bwuU  lud  itnj'd  but  a  mtcb,  then  justly 

you  leave  me. 
1  atk'd  you  lean,  you  bade  nx  Ion;  ts't  now  ■  time  la 

diidie  Rief 
No^  no,  00,  I'll  loK  you  sdll  wlut  fanaae  e'a  betide  lar. 

The   Sua,  whose    beams   nost    (lorious   ire,    rejecteth    np 

beholder, 
Aod  your  sweet  beauty  post  compare  made  my  poor 

the  boldec 
WIiCK  beauty  mo^ci  and  vh  d<-)ight>  and  ug»  of  ki^ 

D«SS  bind  me, 
Tliete,  0  thcrel   where'er  I  go  IH  leare  my  heait 

me  I 


70.    Tiere  h  a  Latfy  svseet  an  J  hind 

Tbomia  Pirnl't  Mmtiti 

■THERE  is  ■  Lady  sweet  and  kind, 
■^      Was  never  (ace  so  plased  my  miod; 
I  did  but  sec  ber  paMing  by, 
And  yet  1  tore  tier  till  I  die. 

Hex  gesture,  motjoa,  and  ber  smiles, 
Her  wit,  her  voioe  my  heart  be{;ui}e3^ 
B<;giillci;  my  hurt,  I  know  not  why, 
And  yet  I  love  ber  till  I  die. 

Cupid  b  ubgid  aod  doth  range, 
Het  counuy  so  my  lore  dotlt  chaogt: 
But  change  ibe  eanl^  or  (liaage  she  bky, 
Yet  will  I  love  her  till  I  die. 


ANONYMOUS 
7t.     Lew  not  me  far  cornel/  grace 

I  OVE  tM  tat  for  comely  pKc, 
^    Pot  my  pluting  eye  or  face, 
Nor  (ut  uty  ouevvd  part, 
No,  Dot  for  iv  coosUM  bnrti 

For  thcM  nuy  Tail  ot  luro  to  ttl. 

So  ihov  mti  I  ttull  sever: 
Keep,  ibcrefoK,  ■  true  votatm'*  eye, 
And  love  me  itill  but  know  poi  «hy— 
So  1)351  tliou  tbe  Hinr  tuson  still 

To  dooi  upoa  rac  ever  I 

72.  T^  ffaienmg 

i«hD  AVTtt  HfM  Sttt  t/Airt,  l«M~ 

ON  a  time  tbe  snoroui  Silvy 
Said  to  her  shei^crd,  '  SvMt,  bow  do  ye .' 
Riu  me  thb  once  o&d  Uicn  Cnd  be  with  yc, 

My  sweetest  denl 
Kiss  m«  ifiis  oner  aftd  ih«n  God  be  «itb  ye. 
Far  now  ibe  nonung  dr^wi-ib  Dear.' 

With  that,  ber  fount  bowm  sboaing, 
Op'tiiaj;  her  lip,  licfa  pcTfumcs  bluwing, 
She  laid,  *  Now  kiss  me  and  be  going. 

My  iWMim  dear  I 
Kis>  OK  this  i»c«  and  tbca  be  going, 
For  now  tbe  tnomii^  diaweth  near.' 

Wttb  that  the  abcpbcrd  waked  from  deepifi^ 
And  Vfforg  when  the  day  wa*  peeping. 
He  said,  'Now  talw  my  soul  in  keeping, 

My  sweetest  dear  I 
Kiss  ma  and  take  ny  M«l  ia  kM|N'ng. 
Since  I  mast  go,  now  day  is  tutu' 

99 


NICHOLAS  BRETON 


7J.  Tbillida  and  Coridm 

TN  the  mercy  idodiIi  of  May, 
^      In  I  mora  b^  bnok  of  diy, 
FonJi  1  w.ilk'd  l^-  the  wood-tide 
When  as  May  was  in  hit  pride: 
Hiete  I  spitd  >U  alone 
Phillidft  ud  CoridoD. 
Much  ado  Aere  wai,  God  wot! 
He  would  love  and  iJic  «-ould  noc 
She  Mid,  Never  nun  wat  tnie; 
He  said,  None  wu  falw  to  you. 
He  jaid,  tie  had  loved  ha  loitj ; 
&he  said,  Lore  should  hare  no  wionj. 
CotidoQ  would  kiss  her  then ; 
She  said,  ^taid5  must  kiss  no  mea 
Till  they  did  for  good  and  ali ; 
Then  ihe  made  the  shepherd  call 
All  the  heavens  to  witnexi  tnKh 
Never  loved  a  trocr  youth. 
Thus  with  many  a  pmty  oath, 
Yea  ud  nay,  aad  fiith  and  troth, 
Such  as  silly  sheplictds  use 
When  tbey  wili  not  Love  abuse, 
Love,  which  had  been  loot;  deltxloJ, 
Was  with  kLiKct  nwrct  concluded ; 
And  Phillida,  with  garlands  ^y, 
Wat  made  the  Lady  of  the  May. 


"«»■» 


NICHOLAS  BRETON? 


74.  ji  CraJU  Song 

Oniat,  IJW4 

/^OME  Idtk  babe,  come  rilJy  soul, 

^-'     T^j  &lher'»  itiamr,  thy  modnr'a  pie(; 

Bora  u  I  <loaibt  to  all  our  dotr, 

And  to  tbficli'  nnlurppy  chiefs 

Siag  lull«by,  uxl  lap  it  wvm. 

Poor  soul  tliat  thialu  ao  creaUrc  harm. 

Tim  linJe  tkink'tt  and  Ws  dost  know 
The  caoM  of  this  thy  mocber's  moao  1 
Tliou  wMil'il  tbt  wit  to  wail  her  woe, 
And  I  myxir  am  all  alone: 

Why  dott  tboa  wcejtf   why  dost  thou  wall? 

And  know'si  not  yet  what  thou  don  atl. 

Cork:,  little  wretch — ah,  silly  heaitl 
Mine  oely  joy,  whoi  caa  I  more? 
If  there  be  any  wroa£  diy  smart, 
Tliat  8iay  the  destinies  ii!n{ilore: 

Twu  I,  I  say,  qaiou  my  will, 

I  wail  the  time,  but  be  ihon  still. 

AM  dost  tliou  smtle?     O,  thy  swnt  lace! 
Would  God  Hhrnelf  He  might  thee  see!— 
No  donbt  thou  woddst  soon  porchaM-  gr^cc, 
I  bww  right  well,  for  thee  and  me : 

But  come  to  moilier,  babe,  and  play, 

For  ftlfaer  Alse  b  fled  away. 

Swm  boy.  If  it  by  fomiK  chance 
Thy  &ih«T  home  agaia  to  send, 


NICHOLAS  BRETON  / 


If  dcsth  do  strike  me  with  hia  laece, 
Yet  nuyn  tbou  mc  to  him  cORmKodi 
If  any  aalc  thy  moihcr'i  taax, 
Tdl  how  by  love  ilie  purchased  blame. 

Thea  will  hi»  gratle  hurt  loon  ykid ; 

1  know  him  of  a  ooble  mind : 

Although  a  Uoo  in  the  (idd, 

A  bmb  in  town  tbou  ilialt  him  linci) 
A^  blruing,  babe,  be  not  afrBid, 
His  jugar'd  words  hath  me  betray 'd. 

Thrn  mnytt  thou  j<iy  and  be  nght  glad; 

Alibough  in  woe  I  seem  to  nM»a, 

Thy  father  U  no  t»^i\  lad, 

A  Doblc  ymiih  of  blood  and  bome : 

Hu  ilancing  looks,  if  lie  once  smil^ 
Right  honest  women  may  bcgiulc. 

Come,  little  boy,  and  rock  unlecpi 
Sing  Icll.tby  and  be  tliou  stilt ; 
I,  diat  can  do  naught  else  but  weep, 
Will  sil  by  thee  and  wmI  my  fill; 

God  bles*  my  babe,  and  lullaby 

From  this  thy  father**  quality. 

SIR  WALTER  RAT.FIGH 
T^  Silffit  leaver 

PASSIONS  are  Uken'd  be»  to  floods  and  stiraimi: 
The  shallow  murmur,  but  t)ie  deep  arc  dumb; 
So,  when  aiTcction  yields  discourse,  it  secma 

Tlie  bottom  it  but  shallow  whence  lliey  come. 
They  that  arc  rich  in  wordi,  in  words  discover 
That  they  are  poor  in  that  which  make*  a  lover> 


SIR  WALTER  RALEIGH 

79.  a 

VUTRONC  not,  swtvt  wnprwi  of  my  hran, 

**      The  merit  of  trne  passioa, 
Whh  tbioluDg  that  be  feels  oo  snutt, 
Tlut  met  lor  oo  comjiusioa. 

Sileooe  in  lore  bewnys  raore  woe 
I'hMD  woid*,  thoD^  orW  m  witty: 

A  beggar  tlut  is  dwnb,  you  koow, 
M«y  dutUeoge  <toDhle  pity. 

Tbm  wrong  not,  dnrest  to  my  hcaitt 
My  intr,  though  secret  pusinn ; 

K«  miAitcih  now  that  hides  his  smart, 
And  nrs  for  oo  compasiioo. 


77.  H'ti  'Pilgri'ma^ 

GIVn  nw  my  sdllop-ihcD  of  quiet. 
My  staff  of  haiix  to  walk  upon, 
My  (crip  of  ioy,  immortal  diet. 

My  bottle  of  nlvatioD, 
My  gown  of  ftlory,  hope's  imc  j;Bgc ; 
And  tlncS  ill  uIlc  my  folgttnuse. 

Blood  most  bt  my  body's  twimcri 

No  «ber  babn  will  there  be  gifco  i 
Wtnkt  ny  soul,  Bk«  ^uiet  ptlmcr. 

Trvnlleth  towuds  the  bnd  of  heaven ; 
OrtT  the  (ilnr  mountain, 
U'hcTv  spting  the  nectar  fbaotains: 
There  will  I  kins 
Tbt  bowl  of  bll»  c 


SIR  WALTER  RALEIGH 

And  drink  mine  eTerhn!s£  fill 
Upoo  tWTj  milkcQ  hill. 
My  soul  will  be  a-dry  before ; 
But,  after,  it  uitl  (hirst  do  toon, 

7S,  The  Cwehsim 

CVEN  such  is  Time,  that  talces  tn  tnist 
^     Our  youlh,  our  joy^,  our  all  wp  hatr. 
And  pays  u»  but  with  earth  and  duM ; 

Who  in  the  dark  and  alcot  gratv. 
When  wc  have  wwdcr'd  all  our  ways, 
Shuts  ii]>  iIm  story  of  our  days ) 
Bm  from  this  eaiili,  this  gnive,  this  dust. 
My  God  ^lall  raise  me  up,  I  tnisL 

EDMUND  SPENSER 
7^.  fVhiist  it  is  pritne 

I^RESK  Spring,  ttie  herald  of  loves  mighty  kiDg, 
^       In  «'ho*e  cote>antiour  richly  are  dixpUyd 
All  sorts  of  flowctf,  the  which  00  earth  do  spriss. 
Id  jtoodiy  colours  j^oriously  amyd — 
Goe  to  my  low,  where  she  is  c«elcs*e  Uyd, 
T«  in  her  winters  bowre  not  wril  av-xke; 
Tell  her  the  joyous  time  wil  not  be  Maid, 
Uulcssc  she  doe  him  by  the  Eareloek  take; 
Bid  her  therefore  her  selfe  soone  nady  make. 
To  wsyi  oa  Love  amongst  hii  lorely  crew ; 
Where  ewiy  one,  ihi*  misseth  ihta  her  make^ 
Shill  be  by  liim  amnrst  with  pesance  dew. 

Mike  bast,  tlietefore,  s»-eet  low,  whilesi  it  is  primr:  ■ 
For  none  can  call  againe  the  passid  ttrae. 
^.  make]  eiiM. 

Ml 


EDMUND  SPENSER 


So. 


A  nitty 


/■  fraiH  if  ESt^,  Quiffi  «/  lie  ShphfrJt 

SEE  where  she  sits  apcm  the  grassie  gmnr, 
(O  KCDKljr   Nghtl) 

Ycbd  ia  S<ailot,  lik«  a  mayAea  Queene, 

And  ennines  white: 
UfioB  bcr  bead  a  Cmnotin  coronet 
With  Daitu«k«  roM^  and  Dat&dillies  leti 

Da]r  luvn  brtwccne'. 

And  {nmroMs  greroe, 
EmbcUisb  the  swcete  Violet. 

Tcfl  me,  lure  jre  leeoe  her  aogelick  boc 

Like  Phicbo  fayref 
Her  bcMcnlj  Wcosr,  bo-  pnace]/  ffice, 

Cm  ]pou  wtU  coai|iu«? 
TV  Reddc  rose  mtdJed  wiih  the  Wlijie  yfere, 
la  ctllieT  diedte  depcuKtcs  litd/  cheie: 

Her  modest  eje^ 

Her  Majcttir, 
Whert  han  j<ou  tccnc  tbe  like  bat  there! 

I  «  Calliope  spcede  her  to  the  place, 

Where  my  Goddsx  shines ; 
And  after  her  the  other  Muse*  trace 

Wiib  their  VioUnca. 

KBcM  ihry  not  Day  braunclies  wluch  they  ilo  beacr. 
All  for  EEsai  in  her  hund  to  wearef 
So  sveetely  they  pby, 
And  sing  all  the  way, 
^^at  tt  a  heanrn  b  to  hearc 
led]  nlicd.  jrfcrt]  togelhcr. 

8i  iM 


EDMUND  SPENSER 

Lo,  how  fioftj  thf  Gncea  am  it  fbote 

To  the  Instnuneot: 
They  daaiicen  deffly,  and  aiogoi  loote, 

In  their  meriment. 
Wana  not  ■  fbnrth  Gnce  to  meke  the  dinoce  nm  t 
Ln  that  rownw  to  my  Lady  be  jevOb 

She  ahal  be  a  Gnce, 

To  fyU  die  fourth  place, 
And  rogue  «ith  the  rest  in  beafen. 

Bring  hether  the  Pbcke  and  puij&  Cullandao^ 

With  Gelliflowreai 
Bring  Coronationa,  and  Sops-in-wioe 

WonK  of  Faramourea: 
Strowe  me  the  ground  with  Daf&downdiltws,    / 
And  Cowslips,  and  Kingcups,  and  Itnid  Lillies; 

The  pretie  Pawnee, 

And  the  Chevisaunce, 
Shall  match  with  the  fayre  flowre  Delicc. 

Now  lyse  up,  Elisa,  deck^  as  thou  art 

In  royall  arayj 
And  now  ye  dainde  Damsells  may  depart 

Eche  one  her  way. 
I   feare  I   have  troubled  your  troupes  to  longe : 
Let  dame  Elisa  thanke  you  for  her  song : 

And  if  you  come  hether 

When  Damsines  I  gethcr, 
I  will  pan  them  all  you  among. 

scole]  sweet.         coronations]  ciimilions.        sops-b-wint]  striped 
pinks.  pawnee]  pansy.         cheviiaunce]  wallflower.  flowie 

lit  lice]  irii. 


tot 


EDMUND  SPENSER 


Hi. 


Tn/Aa/afnioH 


/'^ALME  WIS  tbe  cLy,  and  tlirough  the  ttvmbling  ajit 

^-'     Swetee-bwathiiig  Z^hyrn*  did  »ftljr  play 

A  imk  tpirit,  Uui  tighiiy  dxl  dday 

Hot  Tiuns  btamo,  which  thcti  did  glysEtr  &yn-i 

When  I,  (whom  sutleiti  eve, 

T>in>u£h  ditcontnu  of  my  long  fniitlesae  May 

la  Priscn  Coon,  and  cxpccutioci  nyoe 

Of  idtr  hofm,  which  Kill  doc  iy  away. 

Like  rmftj  ahaddown,  did  atEict  my  bnyiw,) 

Wallit  fonh  la  caw  my  ppc 

Alcng  llic  itioare  of  alrcr  nrcamtng  Tiiemme*} 

WbuM  may  Banekr,  llir  which  his  Kirvt  twntnrs. 

Wis  payBtcd  all  with  TviaUc  llowcn. 

Aod  all  the  nndrs  adortid  «-tih  dainiie  geianes 

Kit  to  ieAe  maydiiis  bowTtSi 

And  CTOwnc  tbrir  Pannraun 

Againai  the  Brydale  day,  which  is  not  lotiK; 

Swccic  Tbniiaies!  niaoe  softly,  till  I  end  my  Soaj^ 

Tbnc,  in  a  Meadow,  by  the  Rircn  side, 

A  Vlocke  of  Nymphn  I  chauncdd  to  es^-, 

AJI  loTcty  Dasj^lm  uf  the  Flood  theirby, 

Willi  goodly  greeniih  locks,  all  loose  iint)de, 

Aa  ncfa  had  bmc  a  Biyde: 

And  each  oac  had  a  Utile  wicker  basket, 

Mwie  uf  fine  twigs,  cntraylfd  curiously, 

la  vtuch  they  gallieted  towat  to  611  tliett  fla»ktt, 

Aad  with  &oe  Fmgeca  crept  full  feauously 

!%«  mdcT  fulkc*  on  bye. 

Of  ewf  sort,  which  in  that  Meadow  grew, 

They  gufxTtd  mdwi  tha  Violet,  palBd  blew, 


The  little  Dazie,  that  at  evening  closes. 

The  virgin   Lillic,   and  the  Prinjrose  Irew, 

With  store  of  vermeil  Roses, 

To  decke  their  Bridegromes  posies 

Against  the  Brydale  day,   which  was  not  long: 

Sweete  Themmes!    mane  softly,  till  I  end  my  Song, 

With  that  I  saw  two  Swannes  of  goodly  hewe 

Come  Softly  swimming  downs  along  the   Lee ; 

Two  fairer  Birds   I  yet  did  never  scej 

The  snow,  which  doth  the  top  of  Pindus  strew, 

Did  never  whiter  shew ; 

Nor  Jove  himsclfe,   when  he  a  Swan  would  be, 

For  love  of  Leda,  whiter  did  appeare ; 

Yet  Leda  was  (they  say)  as  white  as  he. 

Yet  not  so  white  as  these,  nor  nothing  neare; 

So  purely  white  they  were, 

That  even  the  gentle  streame,  the  which  them  bare, 

Seem'd  foule  to  them,  and  bad  his  biltowes  spare 

To  wet  their  silken  feathers,  least  they  might 

Soyle  their  fayre  plumes  with  water  not  so  fayre^ 

And  marre  their  beauties  bright, 

That  shone  as  heavens  light, 

Against  their  Brydale  day,  which  was  not  long : 

Sweete  Themmes!    runne  softly,  til!  I  end  my  Song. 

Eftsoones  the  Nymphes,  which  now  had  Flowers  their  fill, 

Ran  all  in  haste  to  see  that  silver  brood. 

As  they  came  floating  on  the  Chrisial  Flood; 

Whom  when  they  sawe,  they  stood  amazftd  sull. 

Their  wondring  eyes  to  fill ; 

Them  seem'd  they  never  saw  a  sight  so  fayre. 

Of  Fowles,  so  lovely,  that  they  sure  did  deeme 

Them  heavenly  borne,  or  to  be  that  same  payre 

loS 


EDMUND  SPENSER 


^hidi  itinni|b  the  Slue  draw  Venus  silver  Tccmei 
Fot  tare  itwf  did  not  netme 
|Ti)  b  befoc  of  any  eaithly  Seede, 

ruber  Anprb,  or  of  Ange]*  bned*} 
''Yet  were  thry  bred  of  t>oaicr»-lmt,  tfaey  t»y, 
Ib  nmWM  Scasoo,  whrn  mch  Flower  wd  veede 
Tbe  earth  did  frtA  srayi 
(rath  they  sectn'd  >s  day, 
inra  ts  tbeir  Brydak  day,  which  wai  not  longt 
Sweece  TbemnKs!    ruone  soMj,  till  I  end  my  Song. 

[Then  (brtb  tbey  all  out  of  theii  bukets  drew 
•tJM  More  of  Fluwen,  the  botiDur  of  tbe  lield, 

'That  U  the  loiae  did  fngiaot  odoun  yield, 
All  which  vpm  tbose  goodly  Binb  they  threw 
Aoii  all  Uie  Waiet  did  strew. 
That  like  old  Prnciu  Waicn  they  did  iccnr, 
Wbeo  dowoe  alimj  by  plcxsun  Tempn  itbore, 
ScaHrtd  with  Flowres,  through  Theualy  they  sireenie, 
That  they  appcare,  throogh  miJCB  pknicous  non, 
Like  a  Brydes  Chamber  florc. 

Two  of  those  N)tn|)hes,  meaoe  while,  two  Culands  bound 
Of  &eabesi  Flowtes  whicb  to  that  Mead  they  found, 
The  which  presenbi^  all  in  trim  Amy, 
Their  soowie  Porehead*  thercwidull  they  crownd, 
WkiTat  OCK  <Sd  sii^  this  Lay, 
ntpv*d  agaiaff  that  Day, 
Apin*^  ilieti  Brjdale  day,  which  was  not  long: 
Swnte  Tbrranxsl   raose  softly,  till  I  end  my  Sottf. 

'Ye  gentle  Binlc«!    the  worlds  hm  oraameni. 
And  heavens  glorv,  whom  thi»  ha|i|iie  hov-er 
i>oth  ieadc  unto  your  loren  bliaiBll  bower, 
■lay  you  have,  ud  foitle  b«nta  coMtnt 


EDMUND  SPENSER 

Of  yoDT  loves  coupleranit; 

And  Id  f«ire  Venus,  tlut  u  Qu«oe  of  low, 

With  her  heart-filing  Sonne  upon  yoa  untlr, 

WKo<«  smik,  they  wy,  hatlt  vcrluc  to  m&ore 

An  L.ovn  dislike,  and  Tiicndships  liwitie  guile 

For  e«T  to  Hssoilc. 

Let  cndlctse  Peace  your  sttadfast  huns  accotd, 

And  blessM  PlcniJc  wdii  upon  your  bordt 

And  let  your  bed  with  [jluisuie^  chait  abound, 

That  fruitfiU  isiue  may  to  ymi  aflbrd, 

Wliich  may  your  iocs  confound, 

And  mike  your  joyn  redound 

Upon  yoor  Brydole  day,  which  is  not  long; 

Swccle  Thcmnicsl    runnc  softlie,  till  I  end  my  Song.* 


So  ended  ihci  and  all  the  rest  around 
To  her  redoubled  that  her  uodereong. 
Which  said  their  brydalc  diyc  should  not  be-  lofig: 
And  gentle  Eccho  from  the  neighbour  givand 
Their  accents  did  resound. 
So  forth  those  joyous  Birdes  did  posse  akng* 
Adowne  the  Lee,  thai  to  them  muraiunte  low, 
As  he  would  Kpeake,  but  that  he  lackt  a  tang, 
Yet  did  by  >ignu  hi^i  gl.id  affection  ahow, 
Making  his  tireamc  ma  itow. 
And  all  the  foiJe  which  in  his  flood  did  dwell 
Gan  flock  about  thew  iwaioc,  that  did  excell 
The  lot,  so  far  as  Cyniliia  doth  ^liend 
The  IcMcr  staires.     So  they,  eniangid  a«Il, 
Did  on  thoie  two  attend. 
And  their  bnt  service  lend 
Againit  their  u-odding  day,  which  n-as  not  loog: 
Sweete  Thonmctl  niooc  tohly,  till  I  cad  ny  S«Dg> 


EDMUND  SPENSER 


At  IcDgO)  tbej  lit  10  mrry  Londod  aaae. 
To  taay  Loodoti,  mjr  most  kysdly  Nurw, 
Thu  lo  me  five  tlua  Lifia  fine  niiivr  wurw, 
Tboigb  fion  anotbcr  pbce  I  uke  my  luitic. 
An  Itouv  of  aaicient  fame: 

Tbrrr  wlwn  ibcy  aotr,  wfacrtai  ttwM  brkky  towm 
Thr  which  on  Tbcreisn  brode  agM  bicfcc  do*  rfde, 
Wtxre  now  tJir  tiudioui  Lawyers  bife  tlieir  bowen, 
Thrrr  whylome  w«>i)t  the  Tempter  Knights  to  faydc, 
ill  thry  (icc^rd  tiuough  pride: 
'rxi  whtrcuuto  there  nandcft  a  stately  plucc, 
oft  I  cyBM  ffStn  and  goodly  gnct 
f  thai  greu  Lord,  which  tbereia  wont  to  dwell, 
WboK  waM  too  well  now  fecles  my  fttcndlen  car; 
But  ah  I    here  6u  not  weU 
Olde  woes,  bui  joyet,  to  tell 
AjBui  the  Brydalc  dajt,  which  b  not  lon^ : 

Thenmeal    nione  loftly,  till  I  end  my  Sod^. 

"dkerein  bow  <toth  ledge  a  aoble  Peer, 

Eti^aodl  glory,  and  the  Worlds  wide  woada, 
dreadful]  nune  Uie  throu]{h  all  Spabc  did  thundei, 
^Aad  Hercnlea  two  piUon  stmdiag  oecre 
Vm  make  to  ifoake  and  feare: 
Faire  bnmch  of  Honor,  flower  of  Chcralric! 
Tliai  fillest  England  with  thy  trinmptics  fame, 
Joy  have  tluHi  of  thy  nobtc  lictorie. 
And  endlnw  happncAse  of  iMk  owoe  name 
TbM  |«miactfa  the  sunc) 

Thai  thraagb  thy  prowesK,  and  Tictorioui  armet. 
Thy  caunUy  may  be  freed  from  fonainc  haimcv ; 
Aad  gnat  Eli«ae«  Kloriout  name  may  ring 

a)  ibe  world,  lil'd  with  thy  wide  AUrmes, 


EDMUND  SPENSER 

Wliicb  some  brave  maw  taay  ung 

To  jgcs  fuDowiitfi, 

Upon  the  Brydale  dajr,  which  i*  not  ]iMg: 

Swecce  Tliiiminn!    mme  soliljr  till  I  cad  my  Soag, 

Frwn  thMC  high  Towcra  thb  noble  Lord  bniing. 

Like  Rxlitnt  Hci]icr,  wheo  hit  f;i>lilai  hayrc 

In  t)i'  Ocean  biliowcfi  he  hath  hathid  (ape, 

l>cKcaded  10  the  Rivers  open  vewing, 

With  2  gncRt  tnine  ending. 

Abavc  the  test  were  goodly  to  bee  weiw 

Two  gentle  Knights  uf  lovely  face  and  Jeause, 

Beseeming  wtU  the  bower  of  anie  Qneene, 

With  fffa  of  wit,  and  oniamems  of  Doure, 

Pit  fix  M)  goodly  vtature, 

Thiit  like  the  twins  of  Jore  they  Mcm'd  in  sight, 

n'hich  declce  the  Dauliiiicke  of  the  Heaveas  brt^t 

They  two,  foith  paciag  to  the   Rivets  side, 

ReiTcived  thow  two  fairs  Bridct,  their  Loves  delight; 

Which,  at  th'  Bppoioied  lyde, 

Each  one  did  mitkc  hU  Bryde 

Agdost  their  Biydalc  day,  which  is  Dot  long; 

Swede  Tuiinincsl    runoe  softly,  till  I  end  my  Song. 


S2.  EpithaUfnim 

VE  leamid  sisters,  whkh  have  oftentimes 
^      Becoe  to  me  ayding,  others  to  adonie. 
Whom  yc  thought  worthy  of  your  graccfull 
Thn  tren  the  greatest  did  not  gmily  KMne 
To  lieare  dieyr  Miues  sung  ia  yoni  simple  byes, 
But  joyid  in  theyr  praise ; 
And  when  ye  list  j-oui  ownc  mish^  to  moune^ 


EDMUND  SPENSER 

Wbkh  dead),  or  lofc,  or  foTttiDes  wrtdc  dkl  nyie, 

Your  ainag  codd  koodc  to  udilcr  tenor  lunie, 

Amd  teach  tbo  wood*  uid  waien  to  latamt 

Ycxif  tfeMaU  dteriRiciK: 

Now  bf  thoM  sonowfuU  complunts  aside; 
'And,  luving  all  jrour  Irnds  with  girttnds  crownd, 

licl{«  me  raiM  owne  loi-o  f>nysc»  to  rtsound; 

N«  let  [he  same  of  any  be  envide : 

So  Orplinii  did  for  hi»  awnc  bride ! 
,So  I  unto  mj  (rife  alone  will  wg; 
'Tbv  woods  ih«ll  to  me  ansivr,  and  my  Eccho  ru)||. 

Eoly,  before  the  worlds  light-^ving  lampe 
Hb  {oldra  bmnr  upon  the  hiU  doth  speed, 
Hariog  diipent  tlie  niglits  uncbraiefull  dctope. 
Doe  yt  avaket  and,  wiili  fmh  hai;-hed, 
Go  tu  tlic  bime  of  my  bdorM  love, 
My  ttvat  tnrrle  doni 
Bid  ber  awake;   fut  Hjrmeo  b  awake, 
'  And  lonj  fince  reader  forth  his  ituUlc  to  more, 
Whh  hii  bright  Tead  that  flames  with  many  ■  flake. 
And  noaity  a  bachelor  to  waite  oo  him, 
In  ihcyr  fitih  ganiKii»  trim. 
Bid  ber  awake  ihcrcfbri,  and  soonc  her  digbt, 
For  lot    the  wnhid  day  a  come  at  Um, 
Tim  shill,  for  all  the  paynn  and  aonuwcs  past, 
Pay  tu  her  uaury  of  long  delight: 
And,  whylest  the  doth  her  dight, 
Dor  ye  ro  her  of  joy  and  solace  sing, 
That  >U  the  woods  cuy  luwcr,  and  your  eccho  ring. 

Brinf  with  jwi  ad  the  Nympbet  that  )'ou  can  heaie 
Bodi  of  the  riters  and  dx  fotresis  grceor, 


EDMUND  SPENSKR 

And  of  the  scji  thRt  nnghboun  U>  licr  ntsitc: 

Al  with  gay  f-irlaiids  goodly  wcl  bcsrcoc. 

And  let  them  itlso  with  them  briag  in  hand 

An«her  gay  girUod 

Por  my  layre  love,  of  lillyes  and  oF  fokk, 

Bound  trueloTc  wize,  with  a  blew  >i!ke  rihiad. 

And  let  them  n»ke  great  sum  of  bridale  pOK«, 

And  let  them  eckc  bring  store  of  other  flowen, 

To  deck  the  bridale  bowers. 

And  let  the  ground  whercts  her  foot  shtU  tmd, 

For  fcaic  th?  »ones  her  tender  foot  should  wron^ 

Be  strewed  with  fbgruit  Howera  all  aloog. 

And  diaptcd  lylce  the  discolored  mcuL 

Which  done,  doe  at  her  chamba  dorc  awayt, 

For  she  will  waken  scrayij 

The  whiles  doc  ye  thts  soog  unto  hCT  ttng, 

The  woods  shall  to  you  answer,  and  your  Ecctio  ring. 

Ye  Nymphes  of  MuUa,  wiucli  with  caitfull  Ineed 

The  ^Tcr  sctly  trouts  doe  lead  Ml  well, 

And  greedy  pikcn  which  tine  thereui  to  feed ; 

(Those  troutx  and  pake*  all  othcnt  doo  excell ;) 

And  ye  likewise,  which  kccpe  the  ruslijr  lake, 

Whnt  none  doo  lishcs  take; 

Bjnd  up  the  Ini^  ihc  which  haog  scatlerd  lij;hl, 

Acd  in  his  w'Alcrs,  which  your  mirror  make, 

Behold  your  faces  as  the  christall  bright, 

That  when  you  come  whcreu  my  love  doth  lie, 

No  blemish  she  may  spie. 

And  eke,  ye  lightfoot  tnayds,  which  keepe  the  deere,  I 

That  oa  the  hoary  mounayne  uted  to  towre ; 

And  the  wyldc  wolres,  which  seeks  them  to  deroure, 

With  your  sieelc  darts  doo  chace  front  comming  oesf 

Be  also  presi~Dt  hcerc, 


EUMITND  SPENSER 

Tn  hdpr  tu  tlrcke  her,  aad  to  bdp  to  mig, 

ThK  all  ilw  woods  nuy  aatwcr,  and  jroui  cccho  ring. 

Wake  now,  my  ton,  avakel    for  it  is  unet 

The  Rovf  Momc  lonf-  since  left  TUbono  bcxi. 

All  mdy  to  her  iiilver  coche  la  clyme ; 

Atnj  Pturiws  ^i  to  shew  his  glorious  bed. 

Harkt    how  the  chrrfcfull  binis  do  chisnt  thcyr  inica 

And  nmll  of  Lore«  pwat. 

The  firnny  L«ilte  hir  mattira  sings  iMt; 

Thr  Thniith  replies  j  ibc  Mnia  descant  playeS'i 

■  The  OueD  khrilli;  the  Rtxldock  wvUes  soft; 
So  goodly  all  agivc,  with  tweet  consent, 
To  ifaii  diyn  mcminraL 

PAhl  my  decre  lotc,  why  doc  ye  sleqw  thas  long? 
Wbm  mMtcr  wm  Uut  yc  sbotdd  bow  awske, 
T*  anyi  the  coaimiag  of  jour  joyous  make, 
And  bearkeo  to  the  lutds  larc-kant&d  song, 
^nc  oesvy  mst^s  among ! 
Nor  they  of  joy  and  pleaxance  to  you  sing, 
Tha.  all  tlie  woods  tbcni  answer,  and  ihcyr  cccho  ring. 

My  kite  is  now  awake'  out  of  Iter  dmmcs, 

■    And  her  hyn  eye*,  like  star?  lliat  dimmM  vt:n 
Wkh  darksome  cloud,  now  shew  theyr  goodly  beams 
More  bright  then  Hesperus  bis  bead  doth  rcir. 
Corae  now,  yc  dmzcls,  dan^iten  of  dchght, 
He^  quickly  Iicr  to  diglit : 
Bat  first  come  ye  fiyrc  boures,  which  wrrc  begot 
In  Jcno  sweet  paradice  of  Day  and  Nigli: ; 
Wbich  doe  the  seasons  of  the  ycaie  allot, 
A*d  al,  thnt  era-  io  this  woHd  is  fayre, 
Dot  Dukff  atui  still  rqiayie: 
nUadt]  icdUcut. 


EDMUND  SPENSER 

And  yt  three  handmiiyds  of  the  Cyprian  Qneenc, 

The  wUich  doc  stiU  adonie  bcr  bmudn  pridr, 

Hdpe  to  Mldorce  my  brautifullrst  btide: 

And,  ss  ye  Im  txrtiy,  Mill  tluow  bctwc^ne 

Some  gncet  to  be  »eeiw; 

And,  as  ye  use  to  Veniu,  to  bcr  stag, 

The  whiles  the  woods  shal  amva,  and  yoia' 

Now  b  my  love  all  rudy  focth  to  come: 

Let  all  tlie  vii^gins  therefore  well  awayt: 

And  ye  fresh  boycs,  that  tend  upon  her  grootne^' 

Prepare  yovcr  sdvc« ;   fur  he  ts  commiag  sttayL 

Set  all  your  thingrt  in  tccmdy  good  any, 

Pit  for  £0  joyfull  day: 

Tlie  joyiulsc  day  thai  ever  sunnc  did  see. 

Filre  Sua  I    shew  forth  thy  favourable  rsy, 

And  let  thy  lifull  hrat  not  fcrrcot  be, 

For  fcare  of  buroing  her  sun^liyny  face, 

Her  b«auty  to  disgnce. 

O  fayreit  Phurbu* !    father  of  the  Miwe ! 

If  ever  I  did  honour  thee  aright, 

Or  ting  the  thing  tlut  mote  thy  mind  delight, 

Doc  Dot  thy  scmnts  iunple  boone  refuse ; 

But  kt  this  djiy.  let  this  one  day,  be  inync; 

Let  all  tlic  rest  be  tlunc. 

Then  I  tliy  soveniyne  pniyses  loud  wil  sing, 

Tliat  all  the  woods  shal  answer,  aod  theyr  eccho 

Harke!  how  the  Minstrils  gin  to  shrill  aloud 
Tltdr  roctij-  Musick  lliat  resounds  from  far, 
The  pipe,  the  ubot,  and  il>e  trrmhliRg  Croud, 
That  well  agree  witfwuten  breach  or  jar. 

CTond]  rlella. 
lis 


I 


EDMUND  SPENSER 

mast  of  all,  itir  Duimlt  doe  ddite 
Vfhm  they  thrir  tymbreis  imytt, 
And  tbemuMo  dor  daitncc  and  unol  sweet, 
T\m  bU  the  scncH  they  doc  nriih  qulei 
Tbe  «bfk«  the  boyn  ran  if  and  downe  tlte  sutct, 
Cijnag  aknid  with  nroog  coohuid  DOfcv, 
A>  if  it  vrn  ooo  roycr, 
HjiBcn,  is  HymcB,  IlyiBtn,  tbey  do  «hoct; 
Tlui  even  to  Uie  hnnoa  ibeyi  shooting  shrill 
Doth  reach,  and  oD  the  firnummt  doth  fill; 
Tu  wbidi  the  prt^lc  NCUMtinji  all  abcnit. 
As  in  appfonacc,  dor  thereto  appbud, 
And  loud  adrsiiDce  I«  Uud ; 
Aad  TTTTRiOfT  tlicy  Hytoen,  Hjmm  nnj;, 
That  al  the  woods  them  an&wer,  lod  theyr  eccho  nag. 


Loet    wAw  ihc  earner  along  with  portly  pace, 

Lykc  Pbccbe,  from  hex  chamber  of  the  East, 

Aryttiix  forth  to  run  her  mighty  raor, 

Cbid  all  vo  ifIiHc,  Oiat  sctenrs  a  ntpti  best 

So  well  it  her  b»eenM9,  that  ye  would  wecoc 

Sone  aogelJ  the  had  bcene. 

Her  beg  loo<e  yellow  locks  (jikc  golden  wyre, 

Sprinclded  with  |«rle,  aad  |>et^£  flowm  atweene, 

Doe  lyke  a  goldm  suntfe  her  xtiyn;; 

And,  beuif  crownbJ  with  a  girland  gitme, 

Seme  Ijke  unne  imydm  Quceoe. 

Her  nodctt  eyei,  atashM  to  behold 

So  many  gazen  as  on  her  do  Kar^ 

Upon  tlx  lowty  gtonnd  affixM  arc; 

Ne  dare  Bfi  up  W  countciuRce  too  bold. 

But  Uuah  to  beare  ber  prayws  sung  to  load, 

So  bm  inm  bdog  prom). 

*9 


I 


EDMUND  SPENSER 


Nathlcsse  doe  ye  still  loud  her  prayses  sing. 

That  all  the  woods  may  answer,   and  your  eccho  ring. 

Tell  tne,  ye  merchants  daughters,  did  ye  see 

So  fayrc  a  creature  in  your  towne  before ; 

So  Sweet,   so  lovely,  and  so  mild  as  she, 

Adornd  with  beautyes  grace  and  Tertues  store  ? 

Her  goodly  eyes  lyke  Saphyres  shining   bright, 

Her  forehead  yvory  white. 

Her  cheekes  lyke  apples  which  the  sun  haih  niJd<^ 

Her  lips  lyke  cherryes  charming  men  to   byte. 

Her  brest  like  to  a  bowic  of  creame  uncrudded. 

Her  paps  lyke  lyllies  budded, 

Her  snowic  neeke  lyke  lo  a  martile  towre ; 

And  all  her  body  like  a  pallace  fayre, 

Asceudiag  up,   with  many  ■  aooeiy  atmjwKf 

To  honors  seat  and  chastiues  sweet  bowre. 

Why  stand  ye  still  ye  virgins  la  amaze, 

Upon  her  so  to  gaze, 

Whiles  ye  forget  your  former  lay  to  sing. 

To  which  the  woods  did  answer,  and  your  eccho  ring? 

But  if  ye  saw  that  which  do  eyes  can  see, 

The  inward  beauty  of  her  lively  spright, 

Garnisht  with  heavenly  guifts  of  high  degree. 

Much  more  then  would  ye  wonder  at  that  sight, 

And  stand  astonisht  lyke  to  those  which  ted 

Medusaes  mazefot  bed. 

There  dwels  sweet  love,  and  constant  chastity. 

Unspotted  fayth,  and  comely  womanhood, 

Regard  of  honour,   and  mild  modesty  ; 

There  vertue  raynes  as  Queene  in  royal  throne. 

And  giveth  lawes  alone, 

The  which  the  base  afiectioDS  doe  obay, 


CDMtmD  SPENSBR 


I 


kml  jrtckl  thcyr  scniccs  nato  ber  wtD ; 

le  thouglit  of  Uunjt  uacumdj  «Tcr  may 
[Tbocta  appracK  (o  tcrapt  her  mind  u>  ill. 
I  Had  f*  oxwc  nrrnc  ihnc  het  cclcxUal  thrnsarci, 
And  unirmlM  pJeuuKSi 
,  Tlim  »«olil  jrc  woedcr,  and  W  pnysn  nng, 
I  TIm  J  ihc  w<xk1»  sbuukl  answer,  and  jrcnu  echo  nag^ 

Open  the  temple  g/on  vato  mjr  lore, 

Open  them  wide  that  site  tiuy  enter  in. 

And  «ll  the  poitcN  adontc  as  doih  belMrf, 

Aed  >il  tbc  fiiioan  deck  with  gitUnds  (rim. 

For  lo  iTVcyTc  tlii»  .Sajnt  with  honour  dcW| 

l^ut  conwurth  in  to  yoo. 

With  im&bling  uqis  and  humble  rttatace, 

She  commeih  b,  before  tli'  Almighties  view} 

Of  her  jt  rirKiiu  Icunc  obedience, 

WbcD  M>  Jt  cuoie  into  tbuw  holy  (Ikci;. 

To  bumble  your  praud  f^ces: 

Bring  her  Dp  to  th'  high  alar,  that  she  imy 

The  BL-Tcd  ctremonirs  there  fonakc, 

The  which  do  endlesse  inatrinMny  make ; 

And  let  the  rorinj;  Organs  loudly  play 

The  pnbn  of  the  Lord  in  lively  otxes  { 

The  whiles,  mth  boUuw  tbraitn, 

TW  Choristers  llie  joyous  Antberoe  si^, 

l^ai  al  the  wooils  may  answere,  and  their  eccho  ring. 

BehoU,  whiles  she  before  the  altar  uoods, 
Hcuini;  ibe  buly  prtot  that  to  her  speakcs, 
Aad  hlcsMth  her  with  his  two  hap|>y  hands, 
Hnr  the  ltd  rose;  flush  up  in  her  cheekes, 
Aad  the  pure  saow,  wkh  goodly  icrmUl  suyne 
Lik«  cTinuia  dyde  io  grayne ; 


EDMUND  SPENSER 

Thit  cTcn  th'  Angels,  which  continually 

About  the  sacred  Altarc  doe  remaine. 

Forget  thdr  Ktviee  and  about  her  fly, 

Ofte  peeping  in  her  face,  that  seems  more  fa^re, 

The  more  they  on  it  stare. 

But  her  sad  eyes,   still   fastened  on  the  ground, 

Are  governed  with  goodly  modesty. 

That  suiTcrs  not  one  looke  to  ginunee  awry. 

Which  may  let  in  a  little  thought   unsownd. 

Why  blush  yc,  love,  to  give  to  me  your  hand, 

Tht  pledge  of  all  our  band ! 

Sing,   ye  sweet   Angels,   Allcluya  sing, 

That  all  the  woods  may  arswere,  and  your  eccho  rjfig. 


Now  al  is  done:    bring  home  the  bride  againe;     ^^^| 

Bring  home  the  triumph  of  onr  Tictny: 

Bring  home  with  you  tlie  glory  of  her  gaine ; 

With  joyance  bring  her  and  with  jollity. 

Never  had  man  more  joyfiill  day  then  this, 

Whom  heaven  would  heape  with  blis, 

Make  feast  therefore  now  all  thb  live-long  dayj 

This  day  for  ever  to  me  holy  is. 

Poure  out  the  wine  without  restraint  or  stay, 

Poure  not  by  cups,  but  by  the  belly  fiJl, 

Poure  out  to  all  that  wull, 

And  sprinkle  al!  the  postes  and  wals  with  wine. 

That  they  may  sweat,  and  drunken  be  witfaall. 

Crowne  ye  God  Bacchus  with  a  corona]]. 

And  Hymen  also  crowne  with  wreathes  of  vine; 

And  let  the  Graces  daunce  unto  the  rest, 

For  they  can  doo  it  best ; 

The  whiles  the  maydens  doe  theyr  canoll  ang, 

To  which  the  woods  shall  answer,  and  theyr  eccho  ring. 


EDMUND  SPENSER 


Ri»2  yt  ibe  beb,  jt  yong  men  of  tiic  uwnc, 
Aiiti  Inve  joar  woMtd  Ubon  Ibr  this  day ; 
Tlui  A*y  b  boly  i  <loe  yt  write  it  dowiK, 
ThM  yr  for  cKt  it  Kneinber  ituy. 

diy  tlie  ninne  U  in  liu  chirreM  bight, 
BatTuby  the  bri^t, 
Pram  «h«ncc  declining  duly  by  degrees, 
He  wewwbit  loscth  of  liis  heat  >nd  light, 
Wbni  iHice  dx  Cnb  beliind  his  bock  he  sees. 
Bat  (or  Oiii  tinw  il  ill  onbinid  was, 
To  chote  the  lonj^  d«y  ia  all  the  yrwe. 
And  Rhoncm  nisht,  wbco  longm  (tner  wrairi 
Vrt  iKTCT  day  m  loctg,  but  bir  would  jihsc. 
Rm);  yr  the  belt,  to  nuke  it  wure  away, 

boneficn  make  all  day, 
knil  dmnce  Aon  them,  and  about  them  siog. 
That  ilJ  th*  woods  may  answer,  «nd  your  etdio  riBf.. 

Ah !    when  will  ihi»  long  weary  day  liate  end. 
And  leode  nie  Itjie  to  come  unto  my  lore? 
How  slowly  do  the  boures  thcyi  aunibers  speed  l 
How  slowly  does  tad  Time  his  fcaihen  more  i 
Hax  thee,  0  fjiyrett  Planet,  lo  thy  home, 
WitUn  the  Wcjicroe  Ibme: 
Tliy  tfiid  steedcs  long  since  hate  need  of  rest. 
L«lf  ibOdgfa  it  be,  at  lut  1  «ec  it  gloomr, 
Aad  ih«  bright  evening-star  with  golden  crcast 
Apfxare  out  of  the  Eatt. 

i^^rre  cbilde  of  beauty )   glorious  lampe  of  love ! 
aO  the  hott  of  hcaiTn  in  ranker  doou  lead. 
'And  gnydcsi  Iotcts  through  the  Bights  tad  dread. 
How  cbnrefully  ihon  lookesi  from  aboic. 
And  secmn  to  Uugb  atweenc  thy  nrioUing  B^t, 
As  joyins  in  the  sight 


EDMUND  SPENSITR 


Bat  let  the  iiif>!>t  be  calroe,  aai  ({mettoinr, 
WtthcMt  tem[>eaMus  norms  or  »d  sfiny: 
Lykr  M  whrn  Jan  with  fnfn  Alcmena  by, 
Whco  he  htgfH  the  greit  Tiiyntbisn  groomrt 
Or  lyke  u  whrn  he  with  xitj  telk  did  lie 
And  bfg«  Majcwy. 

And  IpC  thr  majds  and  jong  men  ctaae  to  iin)tt 
Nc  let  the  woods  than  aiuwn  nor  tbeyr  cccbo  rinf. 

Let  fu>  bmenting  cryn,  nor  doIcfiJI  icaies, 

fir  hewd  all  ciiglit  widun,  nor  yet  withoot: 

Ne  trt  fjlte  whhpm,  bnvdinj  hidden  fl■am^ 

Bcckkr  fmtle  slcrjie  with  miicimcvivid  dout. 

Let  BO  dekulicg  dreamn,  nor  ditadful]  lights 

HUkt  lodden  lad  alfrighti ; 

tie  bt  hoiac-iym,  nor  lightnings  hdpelesM  harmn, 

Nir  bt  U»  pQuke,  oor  other  crill  sprighu, 

Ke  let  nnxhiToiis  witches  with  theyr  charme*, 

Nc  let  hob  GobHn,  dudcs  wiiosc  teiK«  we  tee  ivot, 

Pray  Bi  with  things  that  be  aot: 

L«t  CMX  the  ahriech  Oule  not  the  Siorke  be  heard, 

Nv  the  night  Elirtn,  that  »ill  de»dlr  yebi 

Nor  dunotd  ghoou,  catd  up  with  na^tj  tpels, 

Nor  piEiIy  raltum,  make  m  once  ifleard: 

Ke  let  th'  mpleiBnt  Quyre  of  Progs  tiill  croking 

Make  n  to  wi>h  thcyr  choking. 

Let  none  of  the«e  thcyr  diery  accents  sing ; 

Ne  let  the  woods  then  answer,  nor  theyr  eccho  rii^. 

Brt  In  nil  Silence  Irew  night-wxtchcs  heepe, 
That  sacrrd  Pcttcc  may  in  assuiaacc  raync, 
Aad  tytnely  Sleep,  when  it  ia  tymc  to  alrepe, 
Hty  poure  bh  hob)  forth  on  your  plea»iit  pUynei 
Tl«  whiles  an  hundred  Btde  wtnghJ  lores, 


EOMUKD  SPENSER 

Like  dirers-rttbercd  dom, 

Shall  fly  ind  flutter  rouad  about  year  bed, 

And  in  the  seem  darke,  tlut  none  re(>roT««, 

Tbrir  prcty  steolthn  thai  worke,  and  snam  thai 

To  fil^  away  nwrrt  xnatcbct  of  ddight. 

Coftcrald  tlirough  co?cn  ni^t. 

Ye  SfXtiivi  of  Venus,  pl«y  j^ur  t^ns  at  wMt 

Pot  grwd]r  (>luaniie,  cvpI»k  of  /our  loyes, 

Thinks  more  apaa  her  i>mdi«e  of  joyes, 

Then  wiiu  ye  do,  albe  it  good  or  ill. 

All  night  therefore  attend  your  merry  plsy^ 

For  tl  will  *oone  be  day: 

Now  none  doth  hinder  you,  that  uy  or  MOjt 

Ne  will  the  woods  now  a&»wer,  nor  your  Eccbo  tittg. 


Who  is  the  nmc,  wliich  K  my  window  peeps? 

Or  whose  is  that  fnire  f«ce  that  shines  so  blight : 

1ft  it  uot  Cinthia.  ;hc  that  never  slci'iics, 

But  walked  about  higli  heaven  al  t!ie  night  I 

Ol    fayrest  goddcMC,  do  thou  not  entj 

My  love  with  me  to  spy : 

For  thou  likewise  didtt  lore,  though  now  nnthoughi. 

And  for  a  fleece  of  wooll,  which  pritily 

The  Laimian  shepherd  once  onto  ihec  brought, 

His  jilessuies  with  thee  wiouglit. 

Therefore  to  os  be  farorable  now  i 

Add  sith  of  wcmcn^  Ubours  thou  liaat  chxT][e, 

And  generation  goodly  dost  enlarge, 

Endinc  ihy  will  t'c£.-ct  our  wishfull  eow. 

And  thr  chast  wombe  informe  with  timely  need, 

That  may  out  coml'ott  teecd  j 

Till  which  we  cease  our  h<7>efail  hap  to  sing; 

Ne  let  the  woods  us  inswerc,  nor  our  Eccbo  ring. 


!*• 


EDMUND  SPENSER 

Anil  lliaa,  gnat  Jono!    whnch  with  nrful  migtit 

The  bwc*  of  wtdlock  still  do«  pMroniic ; 

AmI  tbc  nrbgioa  of  the  &hh  (inx  plight 

Wnfa  s«ercd  rites  hut  uughl  lo  toleainizc  i 

AtuJ  nkc  for  confort  oftco  callM  an 

Of  wwmh  in  Uxir  staam 

EmnsUjr  bind  thou  this  lorrly  bood. 

And  ftll  tliy  blruingx  unco  tu  impatt. 

And  thou,  gbd  Ccniut !   in  whose  gentle  hin%l 

The  bniblic  bowre  aad  gmiill  bnl  rcnuine, 

WttJioui  Uraiish  or  Maine: 

And  the  ai>vec  {ilntwres  of  theyr  lores  delight 

With  Moet  ajde  doest  tnccour  ind  supply, 

110  tliey  bring  fbtth  the  Iruiifull  ^mgenji 

Seod  u*  the  litndy  fruit  of  thi's  umc  night. 

And  thou,  Uyn  Hebe  I   aad  tlwu,  lijnxn  free! 

Gnat  thai  ii  may  so  be. 

Til  which  w*  cease  your  funlier  praysc  to  sing; 

Ne  any  voods  shall  answer,  nor  your  Eccho  ring. 

And  yc  h>£h  bnrtns,  tlie  temple  of  the  gods, 

ta  which  ■  thousand  torches  flamiog  bri^t 

Doe  borne,  that  to  ns  wictchrd  earthly  doda 

la  divadful  darkneaae  lend  dcarM  light ; 

And  bU  ye  powen  wlucb  ia  the  same  rcmaync. 

Mora  then  we  ram  can  fayne ! 

PiMiK  out  yow  blestang  on  us  pleotiauAly, 

Aad  htffy  tnilumM  apoa  us  raioe, 

lliat  wo  may  raise  a  brge  posterity, 

WUdi  tntm  the  earth,  which  tbcy  may  loog  posKSse 

\^di  lasting  happinesK:, 

Up  to  jooT  baughgF  palbces  may  mount; 

Aad,  lor  the  guerdoa  of  tbcyr  glorious  merit, 

•« 


EDMUND  SPENSER 

May  heavenly  tabernacles  there  inherit, 

Of  blessed  Saints  for  10  increase  the  counL 

So  let  us  rest,  sweet  love,  in  hope  of  this, 

And  cease  till  then  our  tymely  joyes  to  sing ; 

The  woods  no  more  us  answer,  nor  our  eccho  ring  I 

Song  I   made  in  lica  if  many  ornamailt, 

tt^Ji  tahich  my  love  ihauU  duly  have  been  dect, 

IVhicIt  culi'mg  ajf  through  hasty  atciJenls, 

Te  toauld  nol  stay  your  dew  time  le  exfeel, 

Bui  promiit  lolh  to  ncomftni; 

St  unio  her  a  goodly  ornament, 

And  Jar  short  that  an  endksie  momntrnt. 


Sj.  From   'J}aphna!dA' 

jtn  Elegy 

CHE  fell  away  in  her  first  ages  spring, 

"-^    Whil'st  yet  her  leafe  was  grecne,  and  fresh  her  rinde, 

Aad  whil'st  her  braunch  faire  blossomes  foorth  did  Uing, 

She  fell  away  against  all  course  of  kinde. 

For  age  to  dye  is  right,   but  youth  is  wrong ; 

She  fel  away  like  fruit  blowne  downe  with  winde. 

Weepe,  Shephcard !    weepe,  to  make  my  undersong. 

Yet  fell  she  not  as  one  enforst  to  dye, 
Ne  dyde  with  dread  and  grudging  discontent, 
But  as  one  toyld  with  travaile  downe  doth  lye, 
So  lay  she  downe,  as  if  to  sleepe  she  went, 
And  closde  her  eyes  with  carelesse  (juietaesse; 
The  wliiles  soft  death  away  her  spirit  hent. 
And  soule  assoyld  from  sinfull  fleshlinesse. 


EDMUND  SPENSER 

How  WF*'  "^  ^  when  I  saw  bo-  Icude 
The  Sbrphcinls  <liKt];hteR  daunctng  in  a  rowwl ! 
Huw  uiialy  «rouU  lihc  uace  aod  tofUjr  trad 
Tlir  Kixla  gnne,  with  ratie  g>Hand  crowodi 
Aad  wlica  she  Gsi  idTaBoe  Iwr  bencoly  royce, 
So(h  N^pbcs  opd  MusM  nigli  she  nude  oacownd, 
And  fiocks  and  ibcpbunb  Ciiud&l  to  rcjoyce. 

Dot  now,  ye  Shepbcsrd  Luscsl    who  »liuU  lead 
Yoor  wwndring  uoufM,  or  ling  jroui  vuclayn  i 
Or  who  kloU  dijtht  your  bowrcm  sitli  ihc  is  ikod 
That  was  the  Lady  of  your  holydayra? 
Let  now  yon  bttuc  be  tumid  Inui  bolc^ 
Aad  iato  (Jsicu  cgnwn  your  joyous  p)ayc9> 
Aad  wiih  tlie  sasK  £11  every  htU  md  dale. 

For  I  will  walb  tins  wsndring  pilgrimage, 

Tlutiughont  ilic  worid  from  one  to  otiter  rnd, 

Aad  in  afiltcDon  «»i  my  better  age: 

My  txcad  &lull  ix  tlie  anguish  of  luy  nind, 

My  drink  tlic  tistes  vliicb  fio  mitw  eyts  do  tvnCf 

My  bed  ibe  grtnuxl  ihot  hanieit  I  may  fiodet 

So  will  I  will'utly  iocidac  my  painc. 

Ne  *Iccpe  (tlie  harbei^er  oF  wearie  wights) 
Shall  ncr  lod^  upoa  mine  ey>lida  more; 
Kr  ihail  with  rest  refreth  my  timing  uprights. 
Nor  failing  force  lo  fomier  sin-n|ih  rritorc; 
But  I  wilt  wake  and  sorrow  all  tlie  night 
IVilii  PliilisDOic,  my  fortune  to  dcjilurcj 
With  i^hinKnc,  the  janner  of  my  plight. 

And  trcT  aa  I  see  the  starre*  to  fall, 

And  tmJeJ'  £njunl  to  got  to  give  than  light 


EDMUND  SPENSER 

Which  dwell  in  darknes,  I  to  minde  will  call 
How  my  fair  Starre  (that  shiode  on  me  so  brigUt) 
Fell  sodainly  and  faded  under  ground ; 
Since  wliosc  departure,  day  is  turnd  to  night, 
And  night  without  a  Veous  stanc  is  found. 

And  she,  my  love  that  was,  my  Saint  that  is, 
When  she  beholds  from  her  celestiall  throni: 
(In  which  shee  joyeth  in  etemall  blis) 
My  bitter  penance,   will  my  case  bcmone. 
And  pitie  me  that  living  dius  doo  die ; 
For  heavenly  spirits  have  compassion 
On  mortall   men,   and  rue  thetr  miserie. 

So  when  I  have  with  sorowe  satisfide 
Th'  impoitune  fates,  which  vengeance  on  me  seeke, 
And  th'   heavens  with  long  languor  pacilide. 
She,  for  pure  pitie  of  my  suflerance  meeke. 
Will  send  for  me;    for  which  I  daylie  longj 
And  will  ull  then  my  piunful  penance  eeke. 
Weep,  Shepheardl    weep,  to  make  laj  undersong! 


S4.  Easter 

jlJOST  glorious  Lord  of  Lyfcl    that,  od  this  day, 
■'■''■     Didst  make  Thy  triumph  orer  death  aod  sin ; 

And,  having  harrowd  hell,  didst  bring  away 
Captivity  thence  captive,  us  to  mn : 
This  joyous  day,  deare  Lord,  with  joy  begin  j 
And  grant  that  we,  for  whom  thou  diddest  dye, 
B«ng  with  Thy  deare  blood  dene  washt  from  sin, 
May  live  for  ever  in  felicity  1 


1 


EDMUND  SPENSER 

And  that  Thy  Ion  we  weighing  wontiil^, 
H17  likcwae  lore  Thee  for  the  nnic  agunct 
Aad  for  Th;  sake  that  all  Ijriw  dcsrc  didst  buy, 
With  lore  may  ODc  atuAhvT  mccrtaynr  I 

80  In  «  love,  drarc  Love,  lyttc  as  ve  (x^ht, 
— L«Te  a  tlic  Icboa  uliicli  tJic  Lwd  uj  uught. 


JOHN   LVLY 

fff.  Car^s  and  Kisses 

/^UPID  and  my  Campospe  play'd 
^■^     At  cards  for  ki»c« — Cu(im1  poidt 
He  stakes  bis  qniier,  bow,  and  arrows. 
Mis  Riochcr's  dom,  and  turn  of  spatTQursi 
Lcran  ibm  too;    then  down  he  ihiowa 
Tlie  coral  of  his  l!]i,  the  rose 
Crowing  od's  check  (but  none  knows  how); 
With  ibwe,  the  ciysiil  of  liii  Iwow, 
And  tdeo  the  dtmjile  of  bis  chia: 
All  (hcK  dkl  my  Compipe  win. 
At  last  be  set  !*»  both  liis  ej-cs— 
Sbe  woo,  and  Cupid  blind  did  tiite. 
O  Lote!    has  she  dortc  this  for  ihcef 
What  shall,  alas  1    bccoRK  of  me } 


fftf.  Springs  H^eiteme 

Vy/HAT  bird  so  sings,  j«  so  does  wal  i 
"^     O  'tis  ibe  nvish'd  ni^itinitate. 

■Ar»  yw»  M'  /w.  '"*" '  *■>•  ^^^s 

Aad  still  her  woes  tt  nudmgbt  me. 


I 


JOHN  LYLY 


Brave  prick-song  1     Who  is't  now  we  hear  ? 

None  but  the  krk  so  shrill  and  clear ; 
Now  Rt  heaven's  gate  she  ciaps  her  wings, 
The  morn  not  wakJng  till  she  sings. 
Hark,  hark,  with  what  a  pretty  throat 
Poor  rohin  redbreast  tunes  his  note  I 
cuckoos  sing 


in  the  spring ! 
in  ibe  spring  I 


r  MUNDAY 
St.  I  Bathing 


'SSJ-lflM 


lathing  by  a  spring, 
■*—      Where  faii«t  shades  did  hide  her; 
The  winds  blew  calm,  the  birds  did  sing, 

The  cool  streams  ran  beside  her. 
My  wanton  thoughts  enticed  mine  eye 

To  see  what  was  forbidden : 
Bui  better  memory  said  Fie; 
So  vain  desire  was  chidden — 

Hey  nonny  nonny  0 1 
Hey  nonny  nonny ! 

Into  a  slumber  then  I  fell. 

And  fond  imagination 
Secm&d  to  see,  but  could  not  tell. 

Her  feature  or  her  fashion : 
But  ev'n  as  babes  in  dreams  do  smil^ 

And  sometimes  fall  a-weeping, 
So  I  awaked  as  wise  that  while 

As  when  I  fell  a-sleeping. 

"JO 


ss. 


SIR    PHILIP  SIDNEY 
TJ!>e  Ifar^aia 


tss»-i* 


[Y  trar  love  hMli  my  heut,  «k1  I  hiTC  M*, 
By  ]cst  exchaogc  one  fvr  another  gitCQ: 
hold  his  detr,  aod  mine  he  cannot  nms, 
Tlwre  nctcr  WM  a  better  hargata  dritcn: 

My  irue  lore  luth  my  heart,  aod  I  have  bis. 

Hb  boft  in  nx  kcq>«  him  aad  mt  in  one. 

My  hevi  in  htm  his  ihoajtJtts  aod  wbws  icuidcsi 

He  lora  my  heart,  for  ooce  it  was  his  own, 
I  chemh  his  becaute  in  me  it  bidni 

My  me  low  haih  my  hurt,  and  I  hate  bis. 


$g.  Song 

VjmiO  hath  his  fancy  pinshi 
"^    With  fiuits  of  happy  nght, 
L«  brrc  hi»  cyc«  be  raitid 

On  Niiurc's  nvccu-it  %htj 
A  li^t  wliicb  dotli  diactvt 

And  yet  unrte  tlic  eyt*, 
A  iigitt  wUcfa,  dying  never, 

Is  ause  the  looker  dies. 

She  nerer  die%  bat  taitrth 

In  life  of  toTei's  hurt; 
lie  ever  din  ilui  wastedi 

la  Inve  his  cluefcst  pan : 
Tbts  is  ber  Uic  stitl  saanUd 

In  Deirer^yiog  faaih  i 
Tim  is  hit  death  mnrded, 

Siaoe  the  liir*  in  his  di-i:h. 


w 


SIR  PHILIP  SIDNEY 

Look  then,  ind  die!     The  pUasur» 

Doth  answer  well  the  p*io  j 
Small  loss  of  mortal   treasure, 

Who  may  immortal  gain  I 
Immortal   be  her  graces, 

Immortal  is  her  mind  i 
They,  fit  for  heavenly  places — 

This,   bearen  ia  it  doth  bind. 

But  eyes  these  beauties  see  not, 

Nor  sense  that  grace  descries; 
Yet  eyes  deprived  be  not 

From  sight  of  her  fair  eyes — 
Which,   as  of  inward  glory 

They  are  the  outward  seal. 
So  may  they  live  still  sorry, 

Which  die  not  in  that  weal. 

But  who  hath  fancies  pleas^ 
With  fruits  of  happy  sight, 

Let  here  his  eyes  be  raised 
On  Nature's  sweetest  light ! 

ptj.  F'aices  at  the  fVmdow 

TJ/'ffO  ii  it  that,   ihit  dari  nigtl, 
*  "       Uniemiath  my   imndeio  piaiiuti  f 

It  is  one  who  from  thy  »ght 
Being,  ah,  exiled,  disdaineth 

Every  other  vulgar  light. 

WAf,  alas,  and  are  yati  he  f 

Be  not  jet  ikoie  fancie*  (hanged* 

Dear,  when  you  find  change  in  me, 
Though  from  me  you  be  estranged. 

Let  my  change  to  niin  be. 


tl 


it. 


SIR  PHILIP  SIDNEY 

ffVA^  h  tAstmtt  iHt  wHl  At! 

Leavt  U  Mr,  imd  Itavt  u  «wintw. 
Afawnce  vat  irill  bclfi,  if  t 

Cm  Imn  how  myMlf  ta  suodcr 
Fnxn  whn  in  mj  iicart  doth  lie. 

SmI  timr  *viff  thrie  ihoiigbtt  rtmtvi  i 
7W  ^h  mork  nial  m»  km*  kntwtth. 

Tmc  doth  u  the  subject  prove: 
With  time  tdll  the  ftUcctioo  growetb 

In  the  fJurhfu)  lunlc^ove. 

^kH  '^  y  WW  ftoMlirf  ittf 
lyiU  mat  thty  itir  iiw  tfficrm  f 

I  wilt  iliink  ib«]r  pklurcs  be 
(lBuge*t<l:c,  of  sdms*  pCTrcction) 

Poorly  cDontRrniing  thee 

Jirf  j«Ut  rtOM^i  purtit  h^U 

Bidt  j«m  /ctftv  intb  mmti  M  wwiii. 
Deaf,  do  reason  do  such  apitel 

Nnrr  doth  iliy  licauijr  BomUt 
More  Uiaa  ia  my  msoo's  MghL 


"  I  'HE  Niglitiiigalc,  u  >ooa  n  April  hringctb 
*      Uitto  her  rvKcA  »ciwc  a  ptrfcct  waking, 
Whik  bu-bon  H>nh,  praod  of  mw  clothing,  springeth. 
Sing*  out  lirr  wom,  •  thorn  ber  soog-bo^  iMkingt 
And  iwwmjvlly  bewuling, 
Hct  throx  in  tones  expr«>»eth 
Whn  griff  her  breut  opfreueth. 
For  Temu'  force  on  her  chaste  will  prcTalliitg. 
law)' 


SIR  PHILIP  SIDNEY 

0  Pbihnfia  /air,   0  talt  nmr  ^aJntti 
Ttmt  itrr  ii  jniler  tatue  ef  ftaitilfiti  tadmtil 

TUiK  tarlh  Rocv  tfringt,  mMt  foJrihi 
tty  iharn  vnthml,   my  ihrn  laj  btari  hvaJHi. 

Ala*  I   the  haih  no  other  ante  of  ingubh 

But  Trrrus'  Ion.  on  her  bf  urong  hand  wrolcen) 
Wherein  »)ic  sutTcnng.  all  her  S^tia  languish, 
Full  womanlike  complins  )ier  will  w<&  broken 
Dot  1,  who,  daily  cnnag, 
CwioM  hate  lo  content  me, 
Ha*e  more  cause  to  lameiti  me, 
Sirtoe  wanting  is  moK  woe  than  too  nwch  Iw 

0  Phil'imrla  fair,   0  Ukt  Mmt  gladnetj 

Thai  hen  it  juiitr  taat*  »f  fiainl/id  smtuii  f 

Ttiite  earth  note  tfriiigt,  miai  fadtth  i 
Tiij  ihtni  wilini,  my  (Awn  my  liMrt  iiroadith. 

(f2.  The  HiglivcAj' 

T_I  TGHWAY,  since  you  aiy  chief  Pamavnis  be, 
^  ^      And  that  my  Muse,  to  some  ean  doc  unswc 
Tcmpeis  her  nvords  to  inntpling  horses'  fm 
More  oft  than  to  a  chiunbcr-nidoily, — 
Now  blcsstd  you  bcAf  onward  blesUd  mc 
To  lier,  where  I  my  heart,  Mfe-Ieft,  shall  inect; 
My  Muse  and  I  ntust  you  of  duty  freet 
With  thank*  and  wislies,  wiOitng  tliankJnlly ; 
Be  you  still  lair,  honour'd  by  public  heed( 
By  no  encroachment  wrang'd,  nor  time  forgot  i 
Noi  blamed  for  hlood,  nor  shamed  for  sinful  deed; 
Aod  that  you  kiMW  I  enry  you  no  lot 

Of  Uigjiest  wish,  I  wisili  you  m  much  bliss. 
Hundreds  of  yean  you  Sldk's  feet  may  kiasl 


SIR  PHILIP  SIDNEY 


93- 


His  Laity  s  Cruelty 


I 


^ITH  how  «ad  steps  ^  nuxia,  thou  climb'si  the  slues ' 
How  likntly,  and  with  how  wu  a  face  I 
may  it  be  tlui  et«a  b  bnvcnlir  pbce 
That  bu^y  vcher  hii  thaip  arrows  tn«^ 
Sm,  if  flat  lons-inth-1ovr>ac({uaiai«d  ey«s 
C«B  judgB  of  kite,  (hou  ftcl'si  a  lortr's  case: 
I  md  it  m  thf  looks  i   ihy  Usguisli'd  grace 
To  ne,  that  fed  tKe  lile,  thy  stale  descna. 
Then,  vfm  of  fellowship,  O  Mooo,  tell  me, 
b  coBMaM  Imv  deetn'd  there  bgi  waot  of  wit^ 
Are  bemies  tbn*  u  proud  as  here  they  be^ 
Do  Uiey  above  lore  to  be  loved,  and  yet 
'Rwee  loim  Korn  wliom  tliat  lore  doth  postcstf 
Oo  they  caU  'tinse'  iberc — ungntefulans  f 


Pi- 


SUcp 


/~*OME,  Sleeps    O  Sleep  1    the  cemda  knot  of  peace, 
^^     "nw  bnting>fiace  of  wit,  the  balm  of  woe, 
The  poor  raan'a  wealth,  the  prUoner's  rrlcuc, 
Tb'  iadii&raat  jw^  between  the  high  and  low ; 
Wkh  diield  of  proof  shield  me  trom  out  the  pcnsc 
Of  tlune  fierce  dam  I>e«piair  at  mc  doth  throw  i 

0  mAr  tn  bk  those  citil  wars  to  ceatej 

1  will  good  tribute  foy,  if  thou  do  so. 

Take  ihcm  of  me  smooth  pillows,  sweetest  bed, 

A  dumber  draf  to  noue  aod  bBnd  of  bghi, 

A  my   gaibnd  iml  a  wraiy  hoMl; 

And  if  tbew  things  as  being  thiae  by  right, 
More  not  thy  heavy  {race,  tlkov  shall  in  ane, 
LirrlMt  than  dsewbcfc^  Stella's  inuge  see. 

M.  pRaMlptoa. 


n 


SIR  PHILIP  SIDNEY 

Pf.    SplenJi/iis  longum  valedico  Nagts 

I   EAVE  me,  O  Loi«,  which  rcachest  but  lu  dust, 
'-'    Aod  thou,  my  mind,  upire  to  higbcr  Uiing*( 
Crow  rick  id  tlut  which  ncTcr  okcih  rust: 
^Vlutcvcr  fndcs  but  fadiaf  pJc^urc  brings. 
Draw  in  ihy  beams,  acd  humbit  all  ibf  nujbt 
To  that  swMt  jKike  where  Uuing  fr««doiiu  be; 
Which  brc«ks  liie  clouds  and  opeiu  Ibrth  the  light 
That  doth  both  thine  and  f>ive  ns  fight  to  »cr- 
O  lalcr  fxKi  hold!    W  that  light  be  thy  gwde 
In  this  small  course  which  Intth  diawB  out  to  dcMh, 
And  think  how  nil  bccoin<^h  hitn  to  slide 
^Vho  aoeketh  Huven,  and  comes  of  bcaraily  breath. 
Then  larewell,  world  \    thy  uttermoxi  I  see  i 
Eternal  Love,  maintain  thy  life  io  mc  I 

FULKE   GREVILLE,   LORD  BROOKE 
96.  Affra 

T     WITH  whow  colours  Myra  drcss'd  her  head, 
}     I,  that  ware  posies  of  her  own  hand-makiagi 

1,  tliat  Diinc  own  name  in  the  vhitnneys  read 
By  Myra  finely  wrought  ere  I  was  waking) 

MuK  I  look  00,  in  hope  time  coming  may 

With  change  bring  back  my  turn  a^in  to  pby } 

I,  that  on  Sunday  si  the  church-stile  found 
A  garland  sweet  with  tnM-loi«-knots  ia  Bow«n^ 

Which  I  to  wear  about  mine  arms  was  bound 
TbM  each  cS  u»  might  know  that  all  was  ouni 

Must  I  lead  now  an  idle  life  in  wishes, 

And  follow  Cupid  for  his  loaves  and  &she*? 
$6.  chimneys]  <A<n(W<i,  etiimiiry-sccKiu  of  tapestry  wetfc. 


LORD  BROOKE 

I,  thu  did  wear  tbe  ring  her  iboiIxt  left, 
1,  for  who*c  loTc  fhe  gloncti  u  be  MimM, 

I,  with  wbose  ryes  bor  tyn  committed  theft, 
I,  who  did  make  her  blu^  when  I  wu  lumid  -. 

Mum  t  lose  ring,  flowtn,  blush,  theft,  ind  go  BikciJ, 

Wuchiȣ  with  li^hs  liU  deid  love  be  uwufcMf 

Wm  ii  for  this  that  I  misht  Myra  Me 

Wabiog  the  witer  with  her  beauty's  white? 

Yet  would  sbe  Dctei  write  her  lore  to  me. 
Thinlu  wit  of  change  when  thoughts  are  in  delight  f 

Mm!  girU  nuy  uMy  tore  as  they  may  leave ; 

No  nun  cu  friM  a  kiu:    line*  may  <leceive< 


THOMAS   LODGE 

p7.  £9jalht4fs  Afat/ri^a/ 

f  OVE  in  oiy  boMm  like  a  bee 

*~'        Doth  sock  ht>  sweet: 

Now  with  his  wingt  he  plays  with  me. 

Mow  with  his  fret. 
Within  mine  ej-es  he  makes  his  nest. 
His  bed  amids  my  tender  brcaiti 
My  ktMcs  atv  hi>  daily  feast, 
And  yet  he  rob*  roe  of  my  rest: 

Ah  !    wamon,  will  ye  i 

And  if  1  sleep,  th«ti  ftrcheth  he 

With  pretty  flight. 
And  makes  his  piUow  of  my  knee 
The  hfcioag  night. 
,  I*.  Motive]  beusf . 

»1 


itft>-i6is 


THOMAS  LODGB 

fvirike  I  ray  lute,  be  tunes  the  ftriogi 
He  muMc  plxys  if  to  I  ung  -> 
He  lends  nie  evrry  lorciy  lhin|;, 
Yet  cnict  he  my  hcut  doth  icuig: 
Wbist,  vraoton,  siill  jtl 

EIm  I  whh  rotct  erery  A^f 

Will  whip  you  hence, 
And  bisd  jrou,  when  you  long  to  pliy, 

Fm  your  offcoce. 
IV  abut  raioe  eyes  to  keep  jou  int 
ni  mike  you  fut  it  for  your  sin; 
III  count  your  power  not  worth  »  pin, 
— AWI    vtiat  hrrcby  thnll  I  win 

If  he  gsiii^y  me ! 

What  if  I  beat  the  wanton  boy 

Wirfi  many  a  rod? 
He  will  reply  nie  with  ansoy, 

Because  a  god. 
Thco  sit  thou  *aicly  on  my  knecj 
Then  tct  thy  bower  my  bosom  be; 
Lurk  in  mine  eyes,  I  like  of  thee; 
O  Cupid,  so  thou  pty  me, 

Spore  not,  but  pby  thee  I 

p8.  'Pb'tUis    I 

\Ji  V  Pbillis  h;ith  the  morning  Mm 
■^"      At  first  to  look  upon  herj 
And  Phillis  hath  mom-waking  buds 

Her  ritiings  uill  to  lionour. 
My  Phillis  hath  piimc-feather'd  flowen. 

That  unilc  whea  slie  ueads  on  thcmi 


THOMAS  LODGE 

And  PUIIii  hath  ■  pSUm  flodc, 

Thii  les)»  sinc«  »!k  iloth  own  Uiein. 

Sui  PbUlift  tuth  too  hud  a  hnti, 
Ato  tfan  she  should  bin  it  I 

It  jriekb  no  mercy  to  dt«cn. 
Nor  gnce  to  those  thic  cnvc  iL 


99- 


ThtVis  2 


I  OVE  purds  the  roecs  of  thy  lips 
'^    And  tfi»  tboot  them  like  a  bw( 
If  I  >]ipro»ch  he  forward  skip. 
And  if  I  hiss  lie  stingetfa  mt. 

iLovf  in  thine  ejws  doth  build  his  bower. 

And  slnps  wiihia  thdr  pmty  shine  i 
And  if  I  look  tJie  hoy  will  lower, 
A>d  itom  their  ocbs  shoot  shifu  dinnc. 


Late  works  thy  heart  within  his  fire, 
And  in  my  tears  doth  Grm  the  same; 

And  if  I  fcm|K  it  will  retire, 
Aad  of  my  pliiais  doth  nuke  a  game. 

Lote,  let  mc  cull  her  choicest  flowers  j 
And  pity  mc,  and  calm  her  rye; 

Mike  mB  licr  heart,  di&solve  her  lowers; 
Thai  will  I  praise  ihy  dciiy. 

6«  if  thou  do  BOt,  Lovr,  III  miy  *^rre  her 
In  spile  of  thee,  and  by  (am  faith  dcsene  hrr. 


THOMAS  LODGE 


too. 


Rosaline 


T  IKE  10  the  cIpat  in  liighp«  flptierr 
*-*     Wiifrt  all  itn}}mil  glor^-  sJiiiie-i, 
or  KliJMine  colour  U  her  hair 
Whether  nnfoldcd  or  in  tvrioec 
Heigh  bi>,  r.iir  Roulinc! 
Her  cyo  are  Mpphircs  tct  in  soow, 

KcKinbling  heaven  by  cTcry  winkt 
'Ilif  gods  do  fear  whciua  ilwy  glow, 
And  I  do  tremble  nhen  I  think 

Hdgh  ho,  would  she  were  mine  I 

Her  dietks  tit  like  tbe  bla^hing  cbod 

That  twautifiFS  Aurora's  face. 
Or  like  (be  silrer  crtmion  shroud 

That  Flx^ua'  iniilm^  looks  dotli  grsoci 
Heigh  ho,  &ir  Routine! 
Ha  lip*  are  like  two  budded  roses 

Whom  tanks  of  lilies  odshbour  nigli. 
Within  whose  bouod;  she  balm  codoses 

AfiC  to  entice  a  di-ity: 

Het^b  ho,  wodd  she  were  mine  I 

Her  neck  tike  to  a  stately  tower 

Wlicre  Lore  himself  imprison'd  tie!^ 
To  watch  for  gianccs  n-c/y  how 

From  bcr  diiine  and  sacred  eyes: 
Hdgh  ho,  fair  Rosaline ! 
Her  pups  nic  centres  of  delight, 

Hcf  brcatis  are  orb«  of  hesveoly  fnnw 
Where  Nature  moulds  the  dew  of  light 

To  feed  iKrHKiion  with  tlie  same; 
Heigh  bo^  would  she  were  mine  I 

MO 


THOMAS  LODGE 

With  orinu  powl,  wilh  reby  nd, 

Witli  iiutbic  wfaiiv,  wiih  Hpphirr  blui^, 
Hrr  body  crrry  my  U  Ted, 

Y«  Mft  (o  utuch  ami  svett  in  linvi 
Hdgh  has  f"^  Roultne! 
Ntfuie  hencif  her  shijw  xlmim ; 

Tbe  god»  are  woiukImI  in  lin  sight  i 
And  Lmw  fi)ruk«3  hif  hc^iTctily  lirc» 

And  at  ber  ryes  his  brand  doth  Itghtt 
Hn£h  bo,  would  she  were  mind 
Then  nmae  not,  Nymphs,  iboagh  I  brnMsa 

Tlw  abieoc«  of  ftit  RouJinc, 
SiDoe  for  a  fnr  dtcrc's  IJiircr  none, 

Nor  for  her  vinvn  m  divine: 
Hei|th  lio,  £ur  Roialine ! 
Heifh  ho,  my  hurt !  would  Cod  tha  the  wxrc  nine  t 

GEORGE   PEE1.E 

tot.  Fair  imd  Fair 

<B-mt,  CAIR  aivd  Fjir,  and  t«ice  w  fair, 
*■      Aa  fiir  aa  iny  nuy  b«i 
The  fairest  sheylwrd  oo  our  green, 
A  lore  for  any  lidy. 
Paris.  Fair  and  fair,  and  twice  *o  &r, 
As  fair  aa  any  may  be; 
Tliy  low  ia  &ir  for  ihec  alone, 
And  for  no  other  Udy. 
(Emat.  My  love  ia  fair,  my  lore  b  pef. 

As  fteah  as  twi  the  dowers  in  May, 
AmI  of  my  Ion  my  ronndeby, 
My  nicny,  meny,  mnry  roundeby. 

>(' 


GEORGE  PEELE 

Concludes  wttli  Cupid's  rarv, — 
'They  that  do  change  old  lo*e  lor  fwvr, 
Prajr  S^  ^^'y  change  for  worse ! ' 
jfrnlt  $imat.  They  chat  do  change  <^  lore  for  new, 
Prajr  godt  ihcy  change  for  worse  I 

(Eaime.  Pair  «nd  Tatr,  etc. 
Pmt.  Fair  and  fair,  etc. 

Thy  love  is  fair,  elc. 
tEimu.  My  love  can  pipe,  my  love  can  sin|^ 
My  lore  can  many  n  pretty  thing. 
And  of  hh  toTcly  praise*  ring 
My  merry,  meny,  meny  roundelays 

Amen  to  Cupid's  curse, — 
'They  tiiat  do  change,'  etc 
Pari*.  Tliey  that  do  change,  etc. 
^mh.  Fair  and  fair,  etc. 

Wi  yf  Farewell  to  Arms 

(to  queik  klikabbtb) 

LI  IS  golden  loclu  Time  hath  to  silver  lora'd) 

^  -^     O  Time  too  swift,  O  swifinesa  never  ceaungt 

His  youth  'gainst  time  and  a^  hath  ever  spnm'd, 

But  spum'd  in  vain;  youth  waceth  by  increasing: 
Beauty,  strength,  youth,  are  Howers  but  fading  teeni 
Duty,  faith,  love,  ate  roots,  and  ever  grccn. 

His  helmet  now  shall  make  a  hive  for  bees  i 
And,  lovcn'  sonnets  tura'd  to  holy  poahns, 

A  man-nt>aTms  must  now  serre  on  his  knees, 
And  feed  on  prayer^  which  arc  Age  his  alntti 

But  though  from  court  to  cotugc  he  depart, 

Hb  Saint  is  suni  of  his  unspotted  hcati. 


GEORGE  PEELE 

And  wheti  he  ucM^si  au  in  hoiofiy  ceti. 

He'll  tcKh  his  s«ains  this  carol  lor  m  mi^, — 

'Bint  be  the  hcAm  thtt  wuh  my  sorercign  wdj, 
CwM  be  tbe  souls  tlut  ttunJc  ber  any  wroi^.' 

Goddess,  allow  this  igid  man  his  tight 

To  be  jrooT  beadiouo  bow  ifaK  was  ypur  koishi. 


ROBERT  GREENE 

163'  Same/a 

I   IKE  to  Diaaa  in  her  sutntnn  weed, 

^     Girt  with  ■  crimMo  robe  of  brightest  dye. 

Goes  &ir  Sunela. 
Whiter  than  be  the  Bocks  that  stragglbg  liml 
When  wwh'd  by  Arethusa  faint  they  Qc, 
Is  ftir  Samda. 
As  bia  Aurora  io  ber  moniing  grey, 

Dcck'tl  with  the  ruddy  glister  of  bn  lore 
h  fair  Samda; 
Liie  lordy  Thetis  on  a  calmM  day 
WhcBM  her  brigluarsa  Neptune's  &ncy  more, 
ShiDes  fair  SameU, 

Her  tmws  gold,  her  eyes  like  glassy  wmins, 
Her  teeth  are  pearl,  the  breasts  are  irory 
or  fair  Samela ; 
Her  cbt^  like  rose  and  Itly  yield  forth  gleams; 
Her  brows  brtp.ht  arches  framed  of  ebony. 
Tbiu  fair  Samcb 
Pasvih  fcir  Veiwa  in  her  bntvst  hue. 
And  J«n(>  in  tbc  show  of  mafesty 
(Foe  she's  Samriil). 


ROBERT  GREENE 

Falhs  in  vit, — all  ihne.  If  yoa  well  view, 
For  beauty,  wh,  stad  muchlcss  dignitjr. 
Yield  to  Sasidt. 


104, 


FmvHta 


AH !   were  she  piwfiil  as  ahe  is  fcir, 
■**     Or  Ui(  as  mild  us  she  is  swming  10, 
Then  were  mjr  liopM  ^tuxx  than  ray  dcifair,' 
Tben  all  the  world  were  bnren,  nothing  woe. 
Ah  I  were  her  heart  relenting  as  her  hand. 
That  •ecniK  10  melt  ctcn  with  the  mtldrK  tooch, 
Then  knew  I  where  to  seat  me  in  a  bnd 
Under  «ide  heai'^ns,  but  y«  there  is  not  such. 
So  M  Mic  shotrs  she  seems  tlie  buddiog  rose, 
Yet  sweeter  Tar  than  ts  an  earthly  Aower ; 
Sovnn  of  beauty,  like  the  spray  she  grows) 
CotnpossM  she  is  with  thorns  and  eankei'd  flower. 
Yet  were  she  willing  to  be  pitxk'd  and  worn, 
She  wxiuld  be  gathcr'd,  though  she  grew  on  the 

Ahl   when  she  ainjp,  all  music  else  be  still, 
For  none  most  be  comparM  to  ber  aote  i 
Ne'er  breathed  such  glee  from  Phitomela's  bill, 
Nor  from  the  morning-singer's  swelling  thrtuu 
Ah  1    when  she  rifcth  from  lici  blivtful  bed 
Sbe  comforts  all  the  world  as  doth  the  sun. 
And  at  her  Hght  the  night's  fod  fa{«UT's  fled; 
When  she  is  set  the  gladforac  day  is  done. 
O  glorious  sun,  iniagiae  me  the  west, 
Shme  io  my  iimts,  and  set  thou  In  my  breast  t 


ROBERT  GREENE 


«f.  SepAestias  LuUaby 

^^EEP  not,  my  w.-tnion,  snrile  upon  my  kwc ; 
"    Wbm  thou  vt  cdd  tbere  *>  grief  eoough  for  tbre. 

Mother's  wag,  prrtty  boy, 

PMborS  sorrow,  fathn's  joy  | 

Wbm  thy  ftibrr  first  did  Me 

Such  a  bay  by  him  and  mc, 

He  was  gladi  I  wat  woe; 

Fottstw  changed  nude  him  «o, 

Wh«i  he  IWi  his  pmiy  boy. 

Last  his  sorrow,  first  hts  joy. 
Wtep  not,  my  wamoo,  smDe  u]<oa  my  kn«t 
WlicB  iIkm  an  old  tbere  '>  ijrM-f  enough  for  thee. 

Stmnung  mn  that  never  *tiai, 

Ltke  pcail-drops  from  a  flint, 

Fell  l^  co«nc  frooi  his  ey«s. 

That  ooe  aaoihn'a  pUcc  sa))(.'4ics: 

Tbns  he  grieted  in  enry  {an, 

Tean  of  blood  fell  from  his  hewt. 

When  he  left  hi*  pretty  boy, 

Father's  MfTOW,  fuher's  joy. 
Weep  not,  my  wanton,  smite  vpm  my  knee; 
Whoi  (hoD  art  old  there 's  grief  enough  for  thee- 

The  wanUM  smiled,  father  wtjt, 

Mother  cried,  baby  te^  i 

More  he  crow'd,  more  we  cried, 

Natwc  could  BOt  Koerow  hide; 

Ht  nun  go,  he  mnn  ki^ 

Olid  and  motlicr,  baby  bliss. 

Foe  he  left  hb  {iretiy  boy. 

Father's  sorrow,  Etthcr's  joy. 
Weep  nor,  my  wamoo,  smiJe  upon  my  knee. 
When  tbon  ait  old  there  '*  grief  enough  for  thee:, 

MS 


ALEXANDER  HUMB 
fotf.  A  Summer  7>ti/ 

/^  PERFECT  Lighi,  which  ihaid  away 
^^     The  darkoMs  from  the  lighi, 
And  KC  a  raler  o'er  the  day, 
Aootbcr  o'er  the  night— 

Ttiy  (lory,  when  the  day  forth  Bin, 

Mo(e  vivdy  doth  appt^ir 
Than  it  mid  day  unto  our  eye* 

The  thining  sun  is  ctear. 

The  shadow  of  tlie  earth  aooo 

Remores  and  draw!*  by, 
White  in  the  East,  when  it  »  gone, 

Appears  a  clearer  xky. 

Which  soon  perceife  the  little  latks, 

The  lapwin);  and  the  snipe. 
And  tune  their  songs,  like  Nature's  clettx, 

O'tt  meadow,  muir,  and  stripe. 

Our  hemisphere  is  polish*  dean, 
And  tighien'd  more  and  more, 

While  everything  i*  clnrly  seen 
Which  seemit  dim  bctore ; 

Except  the  glistering  astres  bri^t, 
Which  all  the  night  were  dear, 

OHinkit  with  a  greater  light 
No  longer  do  appear. 

•haidl  parted.  iirlpel  tili.  oflnskii]  duktad 

•46 


ALEX/V>rDCR  HUME 

Tbr  £oMri  globe  JoconMKnt 

Sru  op  hit  shi&iDg  hml, 
Aad  o'er  the  c*rth  and  Smunxnt 

Olspbys  his  bmts  abrcad. 

For  pj  dw  bircb  »-ith  boulden  tlirotu 

ApttM  hh  TiMge  sbMtl 

Take  up  tbtir  kiadlf  musick  ootcs 
lo  woods  lad  £>rd<ns  grcco. 

The  dew  u^n  the  tender  oops, 

Like  peariu  white  and  Rnwd, 
Or  Itte  to  melted  aim-  dropi, 

Reircthit  all  the  grouod. 

TV  muty  reck,  the  clouds  of  nio, 

From  t(^  of  mousuins  ikails, 
Citar  are  the  highest  hitU  and  plain, 

Tbe  vapotm  take  the  nJes. 

The  ample  heaven  of  Eibrick  sure 

Id  cleanness  do«S  Borpass 
The  crynal  ai>d  the  lilnr  pure. 

Or  ckoiest  polbht  gjaos. 

Tbe  time  so  tTan<]uil  a  and  still 

Thu  Bovbffc  shall  ye  find, 
8>Te  oD  a  high  md  barren  hill, 

An  air  of  peeptng  wind. 

All  trees  nd  simples,  great  and  small, 

That  balmy  leaf  do  bear, 
Tbaa  tbey  «-erc  poinicd  on  a  wrU 

No  man  tfacy  mote  of  sieir. 
nliwoUta.        tbcnilbrii-bL        ikaiUI  clean         tlmptca] 


•tf 


E 


ALEXANDER  HUMt: 

Calm  t>  the  deep  and  purple  su, 
Vca.  smMsther  than  the  und  t 

The  warn  tJut  weliering  wont  to  be 
Are  suble  like  the  land. 

So  siknt  is  the  cnsle  air 

ThK  every  cry  and  call 
The  hi!l«  and  dales  and  forest  fair 

Again  repeats  Uiem  all. 

The  lottrishcs  and  Iragrtnt  flowers; 

Throogh  Pbocbu*  fMterin]|  hcH, 
Refresht  with  dew  and  sUter  shower* 

Cast  up  an  <Mlour  sweeL 

The  doggit  hitj  hamming  b*CT, 

Thai  i*e\-eT  think  to  drone, 
On  8o«f  n  and  Scmrishes  of  um 
Collect  their  liquor  brown. 

The  Sun,  nunt  like  a  sfecdy  post 
With  ardent  coarec  asornds; 

The  beauty  of  the  beaTenly  boot 
Up  to  our  leniih  tends. 

The  burning  bean»  dnwn  from  hit  face 

So  fervently  can  beat, 
Tliat  man  and  beast  now  Seek  a  plare 

To  save  them  from  ibe  heat. 

The  herds  beneath  some  leaij  tme 
Amidst  the  flowers  ibey  Kc; 

The  stable  ships  iqwa  the  sea 
Tend  up  their  nils  to  dry. 


floutUbn]  Mwrcna. 


ALEXANDER  HUMK 

Willi  gilded  eyes  mi  open  win^ 
The  «o«k  his  counge  ibows ; 

With  dapi  of  joy  his  bccaac  be  dings, 
And  twcoiy  times  be  crows. 

Tlie  doTc  with  wlunii^g  wiogs  m  Uuc 

Tlie  winds  ua  fast  collect; 
Her  pujpte  pens  turn  naaj  a  buc 

Agxiim  th«  sun  direct. 

Now  Boon  is  went;  gene  a  mtddaj', 
Tbe  beat  do(b  slake  m  lut ; 

Tbe  tun  descnds  down  W«t  »vaj, 
Pot  three  of  dock  is  past 

Tlie  ra]rou  of  llie  wn  wc  see 

Dtminub  in  their  screogtbt 
Tbe  sbide  of  every  tower  sad  me 

£xiei)dtt  is  la  Icogtli. 

Cksi  is  the  alia,  for  everywbtft 

Tbe  viad  is  selling  downi 
The  mk.  throws  rijbt  tip  ia  the  ait 

Fio*>  nery  tower  aod  town. 

Tbe  gloming  corks  ;    the  day  b  sptM  | 
The  nra  goes  omt  of  sight ; 

And  painted  b  tbe  Occident 
Wiib  pup Ic  itnguiDc  bri^t, 

Otff  wen  horizoQ  circular 

Ftom  time  tbe  bud  be  act 
Is  all  with  rubies,  as  it  tttxt, 

Ot  rases  red  o'erfict. 


ALEXANDER  HUME 

WhM  pinsurt  wen  to  wiik  «nd  Kf, 

Endlong  a  rirer  dear, 
The  perfect  fonn  of  every  tree 

Within  the  deep  appear, 
O  theo  it  were  a  scmtljr  tiling, 

While  all  H  still  and  c*Iin, 
The  pruse  of  Cod  to  play  and  sing 

With  cornrt  and  with  ^alm  ! 
All  labourers  draw  home  at  even, 

And  can  lo  other  say, 
Thanks  to  the  gracious  God  of  btami, 

Wliich  sent  this  summer  day. 


GEORGE  CHAPMAN 
107.  Bridal  Smg 

■5Aa-iAM 
/~\  COME,  soft  rest  of  carw!    come.  Ni^hi!, 
^^     Conw,  naked  Virtue's  only  tire, 
Tlie  m\iid  hsTTtst  of  tlie  light 

Bound  up  in  sliuaves  of  Mcted  fire. 
Love  calls  lo  u-ar: 
Sighs  hit  alarms, 
Lips  his  swoidt  are. 
The  Celd  his  arms. 
Conie,  Night,  and  lay  thy  Telrel  hatid 

Ob  glartau»  I>ay's  outfacing  face ; 
And  sll  thy  cjou'dM  flames  command 
For  torches  to  our  nuptial  grace. 
Love  calls  to  war: 
Siglis  Ills  alarms, 
Lips  his  swwrds  are, 
The  field  his  arms. 


ROBERT  SOUTHWELL 


(Of. 


Times  go  b/  Tutvs 


'*6<-« 


T'HE  loppid  tree  in  nnw  may  grow  a^, 
*     Mom  taJuA  pUnts  kdcw  boib  ituit  ud  i1uw«ti 
Tlte  MRSt  wi|^t  mty  find  release  of  pain, 
the  dricu  soil  tuck  in  some  mabt'ninj  ibowct; 
"noKS  go  by  turns  snd  chxncn  dunge  by  course 
Fiwn  fod  to  lair,  from  bcttn  h>p  to  vronc. 

Tlie  Ki  of  FonuDC  doth  not  eter  flow. 
She  draws  hef  braun  to  the  lowest  ebb; 
Hcf  linic  huh  e^ual  dmcs  lo  cooe  asd  go^ 
H«  looa  doth  wuTC  llic  fioe  and  corneal  wcb| 
No  joy  s>  gnat  btit  nutneth  to  aa  end, 
Mo  hap  so  baitl  bat  nay  in  fine  amend. 

Not  always  ^  of  leaf  nor  ever  sprim;, 
No  endless  ai^t  j«t  d«  etcroal  dayj 
The  saddest  buds  i  sc^mio  find  to  siitg, 
Tbe  Tcaigbest  stocm  a  culm  may  soon  atlayi 
'nan  with  succeeding  tutns  God  tctnpcrtth  all, 
ThK  nan  may  hofc  to  rise,  yn  fear  to  £ill. 

A  chance  may  win  that  by  mischaDee  was  lost; 
The  net  ihot  boldi  no  gteat,  takes  litde  tail; 
tn  tome  things  all,  in  all  things  none  are  cnnt, 
Pew  all  iliey  rxnl,  bu  none  hate  all  they  wish; 
Unaeddled  joys  licrc  to  no  nun  befall : 
Wlio  least,  hath  some;   who  most,  hath  oerer  alL 


ROBERT  SOUTHWELL 

lOQ.  The  Burning  Babe 

AS  1  in  hoxpf  winter's  oi^ 
**■    Stood  ifaSvcring  in  the  ukw, 
Sorpdwed  I  wis  with  sudden  hcM 

Which  made  my  htrart  to  slow) 
And  lilting  up  a  fviirfu]  eye 

To  view  whxt  lire  was  near, 
A  ptctty  bu^  all  burning  bright 

Did  in  the  >ir  appear ; 
Who,  scorched  witli  cxccrare  bat, 

Su<h  floods  of  tcai^  did  shed, 
A&  though  Hit  floods  iho«tld  tpitnch  His  RnnR 

Which  with  His  tesm  vtic  bred; 
■Alasl'  ^uod>  He,  'bot  newly  bota 

In  fiery  beau  I  fry, 
Yet  nwie  afjtfoafh  to  wann  their  h(aiu 

Or  fee!  my  itre  but  II 


■My  faultless  breait  the  fimuct  b; 

Th«  fnel,  wounding  thegnM; 
Love  is  the  &rc,  and  sighs  the  soioke  t 

The  ashes,  thtmes  aod  scores  j 
The  fuel  Justice  layclh  oo. 

And  Mercy  blows  the  coab, 
The  metal  in  this  furnace  wnMgfat 

Arc  men's  defilid  souls  i 
For  which,  as  now  on  fire  I  an 

To  work  tliem  to  thcii  jood. 
So  will  I  melt  into  s  bath. 

To  wash  them  tn  my  blood.' 
Willi  this  He  nnish'd  out  of  tight 

Aod  swiftly  shniak  away, 


ROBERT  SOUTHWELL 

Anil  Knight  I  callM  drIo  mind 
Thai  k  wu  Clirisunu  Day. 

HENRY   CONSTABLE 

119.     Off  fie  *Deafb  nj  Sir  'Philip  Sidttey 

r^  rVE  psnlac^  Mx%ikA  wul,  to  my  )>old  cnn, 
^^     If  they,  importune,  iiitcmi|X  iJiy  song, 
\^'h>ch  now  with  joj^ul  nMn  thou  sing'st  *tMiB^ 
Tbe  Mifd-^iarisun  of  tb'  licavrnly  skies. 
Gin  fwdon  eke,  swe«t  soul,  to  my  slow  cyps, 
TIm  Mnee  I  mw  thee  now  it  b  so  long, 
And  yet  tlie  team  that  unto  tbe«  belong 
To  thee  at  yet  they  did  not  aacHflcc. 
(  did  not  know  Uut  thou  wnt  dead  bcfotr; 
I  did  not  fed  ibc  gikr  I  did  sustain ; 
Tbr  gieater  mjofce  HSioRishtth  die  moici 
Astonuhmni  takes  fnun  us  scnw  of  pua ) 
I  Mood  amazed  when  others'  tears  began. 
And  now  begin  to  weep  when  Ihcy  haie  done. 


SAt4UGL  DANIEL 
HI.  Lxnjc  is  a  Sictnesi 

T  OVE  is  a  sickness  full  of  woes, 
^    AD  ranetfies  itAinngt 
A  plant  thx  wltb  most  ratting  grows, 
Mott  lamn  with  best  uiiiig. 
Why  »o? 
Mote  wc  a>)oy  it,  more  it  diest 
If  not  eojoy'd,  h  sigfaioft  cries — 
Heigh  bol 


■t6)-i6)9 


■s 


SAMUEL  DANIEL 

No  widows  wait  for  our  delights^ 
Our  sports  are  without  blood; 
The  world  we  see  by  warlike  wights 

Receives  more  hurt  than  good. 

Ulyijcs.   But  yet  the  state  of  things  reqiure 
These  motions  of  unrest : 
And  these  great  Sjnrits  of  high  desire 

Seem  bora  to  turn  them  best: 
To  purge  the  mischiefs  that  increase 

And  all  good  order  mar ; 
For  oft  we  see  a  wicked  peace 
To  be  well  changed  for  war. 

Siren.   Well,   well,  Ulysses,  then   I   see 
I  shall  not  hare  thee  here: 

And  therefore  I  will  come  to  thee, 
And  take  my  fortune  there. 

I  must  be  won,   that  cannot  win, 
Yet  lost  were  I   not  won  ; 


SAMimL  DANlfvL 


Chncity  and  Bnuty,  winch  mtn  dcMlljr  fon^ 
Li*r  rmidcitod  fnt-nda  within  lirr  brow  t 
Anil  lud  ihe  Pity  to  cunjoaa  with  those, 
T1»m  who  had  bard  the  pLinis  1  utur  now? 

Fur  hail  »lic  not  bcvn  (sat,  <nd  Uiue  unkind. 

My  MuK  liad  ilcpi,  and  none  liad  known  my  nunJ. 


^Rbou 


y  cpoUcw  \ore  hoftrs  with  pumt  «ii^ 
It  the  tratpie  of  tbe  [inmdnt  frame. 
When  blue  thuw  Bgho,  faircu  of  catihly  tiling 
Wbicb  ckax  ov  cloudrd  world  wiUi  brtgbmt  iLune. 
Hy  unbiticqu  tJioughts,  coafioH  in  b<t  face, 
Afia  no  honour  but  what  *hc  cun  (ive; 
My  hopn  da  mt  in  limits  of  btr  grace  t 
I  wiHgh  DO  comliin  unlr«s  she  relicTe. 
For  the,  that  cun  my  brjn  impamdise, 
Holds  b  her  fur^^si  hand  what  drarMt  b  i 
My  Fortwoe'j  wSed'a  die  circle  of  her  eye*. 
Wbuse  nl&ag  trace  deign  once  a  turn  of  blua. 

Ail  my  life's  sweet  cotisixu  tn  her  alone  j 
mach  I  kote  the  most  Uidoving  one. 


BXnd 
^Or  b 


m 


yet  I  cannot  rqin-hend  tbe  flight 
Or  bjiune  th'  anetnpt  prewuning  w  to  soar| 
The  touuntiitg  feature  for  a  high  delight 
Did  Bule  tbe  honour  of  tbe  fall  the  more. 
For  who  gets  wealth,  that  [mt$  not  from  the  gbore? 
Danger  haib  bofmir.  great  dcsgna  their  fame: 
Glory  dc*h  follow,  covrage  goes  before; 
And  tbuugh  th'  etnt  oli  answers  not  tbe  «aine— 
SoSce  that  Ugh  alterapta  baR  nerer  shame. 
Ttc  mctB  obserrer,  wbora  base  safety  keeps 


SAMUEL  DANIEL 

Lives  mthout  honour,  dies  wldiout  a  name. 

And  in  eternal  darkness  ever  sleeps. — 
And  therefore,  DeEa,  'tis  to  me  no  blot 
To  have  attempted,  tho'  attaio'd  thee  not. 

I* 
Wlieo  men  shall  find  thy  flow'r,  thy  glory,  pass^ 
And  thou  wiih  careful  brow,  sitting  alone, 
Received  h;i5t  this  message  from  thy  glass. 
That  tcils  the  truth  and   says  that  All  u  goae: 
Fresh  shalt  thDu  see  in  me  the  wounds  thou  mad'st, 
Though  spent  thy  flame,  in  me  the  heat  remaining! 
I   that  have   loved  thee  thus  before  thou  &d'st — 
My  faith  shall  wax,  when  thou  art  in  thy  waning. 
The  world  shall  lind  this  miracle  in  me. 
That  fire  c.nn  burn  when  all  the  matter's  spent: 
Then  what  my  faith  hath  been  thyself  shalt  see, 
And  that  thou  wast  unkind  thou  may'st  repent. — 
Thou  may'st  repent  that  thou  hast  scom'd  my   tears, 


SAMUEL  DANIEL 


* 


B«t  ah,  ao  more!— -this  muiA  not  be  fbretoM, 
For  momm  grieve  to  tbiolc  ibry  iniui  be  old, 

-n 

I  BUM  DM  giien  my  Love,  whose  cyci  would  mil 
Linn  of  delight,  iriicreon  her  youth  mi^ht  cmtlci 
Flowers  hare  time  before  they  coioe  to  seed. 
Ami  she  ii  yomg,  ind  oow  muit  spon  tlw  while. 
Atxl  sport,  Sweet  Miid,  !n  teoMo  of  these  fvatu 
And  leant  to  gubcr  Ooucrs  before  tbey  wUhet| 
And  wltcn  tlie  sweetest  blotsom  bit  appears. 
Ln  Love  and  Youth  conduct  thy  pleasures  thiilicr. 
Lighten  forlJi  imQcft  to  dear  the  dnidcd  air, 
AkI  calm  the  leni[<st  which  my  sigia  do  raiw ; 
Rty  and  biuIh  do  best  become  the  fairt 
Pity  and  umlcs  ntioi  only  yirld  thee  pnise. 
Hike  me  10  uy  wliro  all  my  griefs  are  gone, 
Happy  the  bmt  tlut  siglied  for  such  a  one! 

vn 
Let  othen  dog  of  Knighis  snd  Paladines 
Ib  ^Id  acceau  and  sntimdy  words, 
PaiBt  shadows  in  inugisary  linen, 
Which  well  the  reach  of  tJicir  high  wit  records  s 
But  I  mnst  SDg  of  tbce,  and  tliose  fair  eyes 
Amhrntie  shall  my  tene  in  time  to  come; 
When  yet  ih*  lurftcxii  shall  say,  Lo,  vitrt  ibr  Set  I 
Wi^it  ttanlj  made  Hm  JfnJ,   (kat  tlte  vaat  ihaat  / 
These  are  llie  arc*,  ibc  utiphin  I  ciici. 
That  fortify  thy  tame  against  old  age ; 

tbtse  tlty  sacred  linors  must  protect 
Rinst  tlK  Duk,  and  Tuar's  consuming  nge. 

th'  error  of  my  youth  in  them  appear, 
Sofioc,  they  show  I  lived,  aod  loted  d>ee  denr- 


MARK  ALEXANDER  BOYD 
V4.  Sonet 

I^RA  bank  to  tunk,  fra  wood  to  wood  I  rin^ 
'       Ourhailit  witli  my  feeble  tuoasie. 

Like  til  a  leaf  that  follts  from  a  tm. 
Or  lil  a  Rcd  oniblftwia  with  tho  win. 

Tw>  gods  guide*  me :   the  ane  of  thim  b  blla, 
Yea  and  a  baim  brocht  op  in  nntue  1 
The  ne«  a  wife  ingnirit  of  llie  sei, 

And  Uchter  nor  a  dauphin  with  her  fio. 

Unhippy  is  the  nua  for  rvcrraaif 
Thit  tills  tlie  siod  aad  sawts  in  the  aii| 
Bui  twice  unhappicr  is  he,  I  laitn, 
That  fetdis  in  Iiis  huJrt  a  road  desire, 
And  follows  on  a  a-ocnan  throw  the  fire, 
L«d  by  ■  blind  and  teachit  by  a  baim. 


JOSHUA  SYLVESTER 


"J-. 


Ubique 


W^ERE  I  as  hue  a«  i>  tltc  Io«-ly  plain, 

'•      Acd  you,  my  Love,  as  high  as  hea*eB  abot*^ 
Yet  should  (he  thoughts  of  me,  your  hnrable  swain. 
Ascend  to  lieaTen  in  hoDour  of  my  lore. 
Were  I  as  high  a«  heareo  above  the  plain. 
And  you,  my  Luve,  u  humble  aod  oa  low 
Ivs  are  the  de^K  bottom*  of  the  miiii), 
WhctMoc'cr  you  wwr,  with  you  my  lore  should  {«. 
i4e 


JOSHUA  SYLVESTER 

Vfttt  JTM  ibe  nrth,  dear  Lore,  and  I  the  skits, 
M;  totr  *hould  thine  on  you  IiIk  to  tJtc  Suo, 
Aod  look  upoo  jrou  with  ten  tbouusd  eyes, 
TiD  hcatm  wsx'd  blind,  and  till  the  worid  were  dooc. 
WIteresoc'w  1  am, — below,  or  else  abovi;  you— 
Whcrrsoc'cr  you  arc,  tny  farArt  shall  mJ)-  Ion-  you. 


MICHAEL  DRAYTON 

tiff.  To  His  Coy  Love 

T   PRAY  ih«e,  leare,  love  me  bo  more, 
'     Call  lioine  llic  heart  you  gafc  me ! 
[  but  la  vain  that  saint  adore 

That  can  but  will  not  nw  mr. 
Tbes«  poof  hJf-k!s<cs  kill  me  ^lite — 

Was  ever  man  thus  tcrvCd  i 
Amidst  an  ocean  of  delight 

For  pkasure  to  he  9anhAi 

Show  me  do  more  those  snowy  breasts 

Whh  azure  Krems  bnnchtd. 
Where,  whilst  mific  eye  with  [ilcnty  feisis, 

Yet  ct  my  tlittst  not  stanched  [ 
O  TasLiliu,  tJiy  pains  ni^'er  tell  I 

By  me  ihwii  art  prercnted: 
Tis  o(xfabg  to  be  plagued  in  Hril, 

Bat  thus  in  Heoren  lormcfiied. 

Clip  me  00  moi«  b  thos«  dear  anns, 
Nor  thy  life's  comfort  call  me, 

O  these  are  bat  too  powerfol  chaims. 
And  do  but  mote  cnihrnl  me! 

0  all 


MICHAEL  DRAYTON 

Bui  see  how  patient  I  am  grown 
Id  bU  this  coil  about  thee : 

Come,  nice  thing,  let  my  heart  alone, 
I  cannot  live  without  tbe«! 


//7.  The  Tart'm^ 

CINCE  d  ime  let  us  kiss  and  pan- 

Nay,  1  get  no  more  of  me  j 

And  I  an*  ith  all  niy  liearc, 

That  thus  f  can  free. 

Shake  hanci'  all  our  vows, 

And  when  Ime  again, 

Be  it  not  or  brows 

That  we  c  >Te  retain. 

Now  at  the  !a  e's  ktest  breath, 

When,  his  pulse  tdinug,  ion  speechless  lies, 

When  Faith  is  kneelbg  by  his  bed  of  death, 

And  Innocence  is  clo»ng  up  his  eyes, 

— Now  if  thou  woiJdst,  when  all  have  given  him  over. 
From  death  to  life  thou  might'st  him  yet  recover. 


iiS.  Sirena 

'M'EAR  to  the  alver  Trent 
■*■         Sirena  dwelleth  ; 
She  to  whom  Nature  lent 

All  that  excelieth ; 
By  which  the  Muses  late 

And  the  neat  Graces 
Have  for  their  greater  state 

Taken  their  places; 
Twisdng  an  anadem 

Wherewith  to  crown  her. 


hnCHAEL  DRAYTON 


Ai  it  bdDfig'il  to  thnn 
Mom  to  rawwD  her. 
Om  thj  iaai. 
In  a  rani, 

Jfad  wtfi  thnr  nmtk 

Akag  Itt  tbem  bring  ier, 

Ttig»t  and  Pactviu 

Are  to  the«  debtor, 
Nor  for  tbnr  gold  ts  u 

An  they  the  better: 
Henctforth  of  all  the  re« 

Be  ifam  the  River 
Which,  u  the  diintiat. 

Puts  iJiew  dowa  ever. 
For  u  my  pvoous  one 

O'er  tbec  doth  tnvcl, 
She  to  pearl  pm^fia 

Tameth  thy  gnvel. 

Oa  ihj  limi  •  .  • 
Oar  iDoumfttl  Philomel, 

ThK  nrcH  tutier, 
Hcncefonh  in  Apeiil 

ShiU  wake  the  sooatr. 
And  to  her  shill  cam[i«in 

From  (be  ihkk  cotct, 
Redoubtiog  cTcry  Etnin 

Over  and  am: 
For  whea  ray  \-att  too  long 

Htr  dKUnlifr  krvpetli. 
As  ihou^  it  Hillcr*d  wrong. 

The  Mondog  «-e«peth. 

Om  1^  taai  .  .  . 


•« 


Oft  have  I  seen  the  Sun, 

To  do  her  honour, 
Fix  himself  at  hb  ooon 

To  look  upon  her ; 
And  hath  gilt  every  grove, 
Every  hi!!  near  her, 

from  iboi-e 
eer  her : 
From  his  sight 
tumSd, 
een  night, 
1  mounted. 
n  ity  hank 

ids  are  seen, 
ii  view  them, 
In  lie!_  „  iant  green 

Straight  to  renew  them ; 
And  every  little  grass 

Broad  itself  spreadeth, 
Proud  ttiat  thb  bonny  lasi 

Upon  it  treadeth : 
Nor  flower  is  so  sweet 

In  this  large  cincture, 
But  it  upon  her  feet 
Leaveth  some  tincture. 

Oh  thy  hank  ,  , 

The  fishes  in  the  flood, 
When  she  doth  angle, 

For  the  hook  strive  a-good 
Them  to  entangle  j 

And  leaping  on  the  land, 
From  the  clear  water, 


MICHAEL  DRAYTON 

Tbdr  scales  upon  iha  und 

LiTtilil/  s»ticr; 
TbnrwiUi  to  pave  the  mould 

Wherran  ihe  pwues, 
So  henM  la  behoU 

Ai  in  h«  gLs^x«. 

Om  tiy  Uj>a  .  .  . 
Whn  riit  looks  out  by  niglit, 

The  sUn  mnd  §mng. 
Like  comets  to  o«r  tight 

FeariitUy  bluing  i 
As  u-ood'ting  M  her  eyes 

With  ihcii  tuuch  brightnnSi 
Which  so  tfliaze  the  skiei, 

Dinining  their  lighlnest. 
The  n(i*g  tempeus  are  utoi 

When  she  spciktth, 
Such  molt  ddijhtioine  balm 

FrotR  her  lips  bmfcnh. 

Oh  liy  iatst  .  ,  . 
In  all  OQT  Briitanj 

There's  not  a  fairer. 
Not  can  you  fit  my 

Shmdd  you  compve  her. 
Atigeb  her  eyelids  kcep^ 

Ail  hearts  sarpriung  i 
Whidi  look  whiNt  she  doth  sleep 

Like  the  wn's  mbx: 
She  alone  of  hei  kind 

Knowetn  trae  mesinre, 
And  her  tnmaichM  mind 

I*  bearen's  treasure. 

0»tly  l^  .  .  . 


MICHAEL  DRAYTON 

Fxir  Dtvt  and  Darvum  ckar. 

Boast  je  your  bcnuUM, 
To   Trail  your  mistress  hCK 

V«  pay  your  dutin; 
My  Low  "ta  highet  bom 

Tow'rds  ilie  fiiU  founuins. 
Ym  she  doUi  moorliDd  icoin 

AmI  the  Ptak  mDunuinii ; 
Not  would  ^e  dodc  should  ditam 

Where  she  abidcth, 
HamUe  as  b  the  Kmn 

Which  by  her  didcth, 

On  Ihj  itat  .  .  • 

Yet  my  poor  nude  Mum 

Nothing  can  more  her* 

Nor  the  mcana  I  can  vaQ, 

Thouijh  her  true  kntrt 

Many  a  long  wimer's  night 

Ha»e  t  vraked  for  her. 
Yet  this  my  pitcoui  plight 

Nothing  can  stir  her. 
All  ihy  unds,  ailraf  Trmt, 

Down  to  the  HumUr, 
The  tighs  that  I  have  spent 
Kv)LT  can  cninbcr. 
On  thj  bani, 
/a  «  miti, 

tM  ihj  ftaaiu  ting  her, 
AaJ  ft-ili  ihtir  miitii 

AUtg  lei  ibtm  triitf  btr. 


•66 


MICHAEL  DRAYTON 


'CA1R.  ctood  the  wind  Tor  Pnnc« 
^       WIteo  w«  our  sails  mImrcc, 
Nof  now  to  ]iro*o  our  chance 

LoQger  will  x»nj\ 
Bat  putting  to  the  main, 
At  Caux,  the  mouUi  of  Seine, 
With  alt  hit  manial  train 

Lasded  King  Harry. 

And  lakioK  many  a  fort, 
Pnraiah'd  in  waHilie  sort, 
Marcheth  tow*ril«  Agincourt 

Id  happjr  hour; 
Skinnislung  day  by  day 
With  ihoae  that  Mopp'd  hi>  way, 
Where  the  French  gen'nl  lay 

With  ail  his  po^'cr. 

Wbkb,  in  hit  height  of  pride^ 
King  Hcofy  to  dende, 
His  raiuMn  to  provide 

Unto  him  Modingi 
Which  he  neglecu  the  white 
Aa  from  a  nation  Tile, 
Yet  with  *n  angry  unit 

Their  fall  portending. 

And  toraing  to  hi*  mra, 
Qnoth  our  braTc  Henry  then, 
*TIkiu^  they  to  oat  be  leti 
fie  not  amaitd : 


I* 


MICHAEL  DRAYTON 


Yet  Htt  we  well  begun  i 
BatUcs  so  brnKly  won 
HsTc  ever  to  the  sua 
fiy  EiRie  been  maid. 

'And  for  tnyidf  (quoth  he) 
This  at  J  full  T^l  ^atl  be: 
England  ne'er  mourn  for  me 

Nor  more  nttt«ni  mei 
Victor  I  will  remain 
Or  on  thin  earth  Ik  Aaa, 
Ncin  shall  she  «asuin 

Loss  to  ndccm  me. 

'Pmtjen  and  Cmsj  idl, 
Wbeo  ino>t  their  pride  did  swell. 
Under  our  nwords  thcjr  (ell : 

No  lc»  our  ikill  i* 
Tlian  whcD  our  graodsire  gicat. 
Claiming  the  rcgnl  icat, 
fiy  many  »  wsililw  feat 

Lopp'd  the  Ftench  lilies.' 

The  Duke  of  York  »  dread 
The  eager  lawaid  ted; 
With  the  nuia  Heniy  q>cd 

Among  his  hcnchmeD. 
Excesier  had  the  rear, 
A  bravci  man  cot  tlierei 
0  Lord,  how  hot  they  were 

On  the  lalse  Frenchmco  I 

They  now  to  Sght  arc  gone, 
Amour  oo  armour  shoor. 
Drum  now  to  dnuu  <fid  groan, 
To  bear  was  woodcr; 


m 


MICHAEL  DRAYTON 


Thjit  with  the  cries  they  nulu 
The  rery  eanh  did  shik«: 
Tnunpet  to  inunprt  spake, 
Thoodcr  to  thuoder. 

Well  it  llnne  age  became, 
O  nobte  Efpin^m, 
Which  didic  the  ug&al  aim 

To  our  bid  ro4x«3l 
When  (not  a  meadow  bj. 
Like  a  uem  sudden)/ 
The  Enslah  (fchcry 

Stack  the  French  honej. 

Will)  Sfoniah  yew  to  stfOQg, 
Am>wi  ■  cloth-yard  loog 
Tliat  Rke  ui  sei^nis  uvng, 

Piercing  tJic  weather; 
Uaat  from  his  fellow  starts, 
Bui  pUyiD2  mudy  parts, 
Asd  like  me  Eo£li»h  hcans 

Stuck  ctose  together. 

When  down  their  bows  tbey  threw, 
Aod  forth  their  btlbos  drew, 
And  aa  tlie  French  they  flew, 

Not  ooe  was  tardy  ; 
Ara»  wen  (torn  shoulders  sent, 
SoJps  to  the  teeth  were  rent, 
Down  the  French  iitaaaaii  weM— 

Our  moo  were  hxrdy. 

This  whik  OBT  DoUe  king, 
Hi*  broadsward  biandiahiog, 


bOhwI  twotd^  rtom  Bilbo*. 


61 


ifc 


Down  the  French  host  did  ding 
As  to  o'envhelm  it  j 

And  many  a  deep  wound  lent, 

His  irms  with  blood  bL-spivni, 

And  many  a  cruel  dent 
Bruised  bis  helmet 


t  so  good, 

blood, 
md  stood 
ive  broihcr  j 
so  bright, 
iden  knight, 
IS  fight 
another. 


Warwick  in  blood  did  wade, 
Oxford  the  foe  invade. 
And  cniel  slaughter  made 

Still  as  they  ran  up; 
Suifolk  his  axe  did  ply, 
Beaumont  and  Willoughby 
Bare  them  eight  doughtily, 

Ferrers  and  Fanhope. 

Upon  Saint  Crispin's  Day 
Fought  was  this  noble  fray, 
Which  fame  did  not  delay 

To  England  to  carry. 
0  when  shall  English  men 
Vfith  such  acts  fill  a  pen? 
Ot  England  breed  again 

Such  a  King  Harry? 

•70 


MICHAEL  DRAYTON 

120.        To  the  y'tr^iniaH  f^eyaM 

VOU  brare  heroic  miads 
*     Worthy  your  country's  nami;. 
That  boeour  still  ptmoet 
Go  lad  subdue  I 
WliOst  loitenns  IuimU 
Lwk  here  at  hoaie  witli  shame 

BrilOM,  )POu  suy  loo  lon^: 
Qsickly  tboord  bettow  yo^ 
Afid  with  a  merry  gale 
Swell  yonT  nretch'd  «til 
With  Towf  a>  scroDg 

As  the  winds  that  blow  you. 

Yo«r  coarse  securety  tteei, 
WcM  aad  by  sooth  fonh  kn]il 
Rocks,  ttMbores,  nor  shoits 
When  Eolus  howU 
Ym  need  ikpI  l«ar; 
So  absoluce  ihc  dct^w 

And  chcctfully  M  sea 
Svcocsa  you  stjU  entice 

To  {et  the  pearl  and  gold. 
And  ours  lo  buld 
Virptaa, 

Eanh'k  only  parw&scv 

Where  BMBTT  haifa  m  store 
Fowl,  fcnisoo,  and  6sh, 
And  tbe  fhniiiiU'st  soB 
Without  your  toil 
Three  harrnts  more, 
AU  grcsucr  thw  yooi  with. 


MICHAEL  DRAYTON 

And  the  ambitious  riae 

Crowns  with  his  purple  mass 
Tlie  cedar  reaching  high 
To  kiss  the  sky, 
Tlie  cypress,  pine, 
Aod  useful  sassafras. 

dcQ  Age 
s  doth  give, 
s  attend, 
lefend 

doth  Dot  lire. 

lus  smell 
land 
/Vt)D?e  ui         IS  that  flows 
The  clear  wind  throws, 
Your  hearts  to  swell 

Approaching  the  dear  strand  t 

In  kenning  of  the  shore 

^haaks  to  God  first  given) 
O  you  the  happiest  men, 
Be  frolic  then  I 
Let  cannons  roar, 

Frighdng  the  wide  heaven. 

And  in  regions  far, 

Such  heroes  Iving  ye  forth 

As  those  from  whom  we  caioei 
And  plant  our  Dame 
Under  that  star 

Not  known  unto  our  North. 


m 


MICHAEL  DRAYTON 

AimI  at  there  pinwy  grow* 
Of  huid  errtywhere — 
Apollo's  s«cred  urt— 
Vm  it  txaj  Me 
A  poel's  brow* 

To  crown,  that  nujr  ting  there. 

Thy  f^oytgti  attend, 
lodnstrious  HiUuyt, 

Wbow  leading  thaS\  iaAunt 
Men  to  seek  Tune, 
And  much  commeiul 
To  after  timet  tliy  wit. 


CHR[STOPHER  MARLOWE 

121.      The  Tasiiemie  SbcfhtrJ  to  His  Love 

/"^OME  lire  with  me  >ad  be  my  Love. 
^^     And  ve  will  all  the  pleitMuvs  prove 
Thu  hills  and  nlleys,  dales  aod  fieldi, 
Or  wood*  or  Mcepy  mouMain  yields. 

And  w«  will  sit  opon  the  rocks, 
And  we  the  shepherds  feed  ihdr  flocks 
By  shallow  n*ets,  to  whose  falk 
Melodious  birds  ting  madHfials. 

And  I  will  make  tiwe  beds  of  rows 
And  a  thousand  fragrant  pours  t 
A  cap  of  Sowers,  and  a  kinle 
Einbroider'd  aU  with  leaves  of  myrtle. 

m 


CHRISTOPHER  MARLOWE 

A  gown  RUck  of  the  Gtieit  wool 
Which  from  oar  pmty  bmbt  vrc  pell; 
Fnif-linM  slijipm  far  tlie  cold, 
With  buckler  of  tiic  pureK  gotd. 

A  bell  of  snaw  and  ivy-haii 
WtA  coral  cliupn  and  ambc-r  •tluds! 
And  if  thcM  picasum  m.ty  thoc  more, 
C<»nc  tin  with  nw  and  be  my  Love. 

The  shepherd  svaiu  almll  djnce  and  sang 
For  thy  delight  eadi  May  monuog: 
If  these  delights  thy  mind  may  move, 
Then  live  with  roc  and  be  my  Late. 


122.  Her  Reply 

(wRinXN   Bt  SIX   WALTZK   XAtEIOH) 

IF  alt  the  world  and  Iotc  wn«  yoong, 
^     And  tmth  in  ei-ery  shepherd's  toogue, 
These  ptelty  pli-aaH«  mijiht  rac  mote 
To  live  with  thee  and  be  thy  Lore. 

Bill  Time  drives  ilocks  from  field  to  foldi 
Wlivn  riirrs  ngc  and  tocks  grow  cold  t 
And  Ptiiioroel  becoroelli  dumbi 
The  rett  comphdos  of  cares  to  come. 

The  flowers  do  fade,  and  waiKon  lieldt 
To  wayward  Winter  reckoning  yields: 
A  hoticy  tongiK,  a  brin  of  gall, 
\%  fancy's  spring,  but  sorrow's  falL 


(SIR  WALTER  RALEIGH) 

Thy  gowu,  thy  sbon,  thy  beds  of  rases, 
Thy  op,  thy  kinlc,  and  thy  puan, 
SoM)  bmk,  MOO  tritber — soon  forgotun, 
la  folly  rij«,  in  reawn  rotten. 

Thy  beJt  of  straw  Mid  try-buds, 
Thy  coral  chsp  and  amber  suids, — 
Ail  these  in  ne  00  mestis  can  mure 
To  come  to  thee  and  be  thy  Love. 

Bol  could  yo«tth  last,  and  lore  stUt  bteed. 
Had  )oy*  no  date,  nor  age  no  need, 
Then  tbeic  delight*  my  nind  might  more 
To  lire  with  Uxc  aod  be  thy  Lore 


WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE 
tsj.  Sihra 

W^HO  U  Silm!   What  is  she? 

**    That  all  our  swaiM  oocimeml  herf 
Holy,  Gur,  aad  wHe  »  she; 

The  bcavcn  such  grace  did  lead  ba. 
That  she  might  adaiuid  be. 

Is  she  kiod  aa  she  u  fair? 

For  beauty  Iitcs  with  lundaess: 
Low  dolh  to  Iier  eyes  repeir, 

To  help  Inin  of  Jus  blindotssi 
Aad,  bebg  belp'd,  inhaUts  tbac 

Then  to  Silm  let  u>  sing, 

That  Silna  is  cxccUingt 
She  excds  e^tcli  morul  thing 

Upon  the  dull  earth  dwelling  t 
To  her  Id  u*  garlands  bring. 

m. 


WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE 

li^  Tbt  Blossom 

/^N  I  d»y — 3hck  the  day  !— 

^^     Love,  whose  month  U  cvct  May, 

Spied  >  blossom  passing  fiir 

Pbyiag  in  the  wintoo  lur : 

Througli  tlic  TcJvct  Xattti  the  wifwl 

All  unsKD  'gao  jwsuge  fiod ; 

ThM  the  lover,  sick  to  death, 

Wish'd  himself  the  heaven't  brcaih. 

Ait,  quoth  he,  thy  riicck*  may  blow; 

Air,  would  I  might  triumph  mI 

But,  alack,  my  lund  b  awoni 

NeVr  to  pluck  tli«  from  thy  thoro: 

Vow,  alack,  for  youth  unmeet] 

Youth  so  apt  to  pluck  a  sweet! 

Do  not  call  it  sin  in  me 

That  I  am  tbrswora  (or  thee; 

Thon  for  whom  e'en  Jov«  would  swear 

Juno  but  an  Ethinp  were; 

And  deny  himself  for  Jow, 

Turaing  roorul  for  thy  love. 


"^ 


Spring  and  fVinlrr 


VI/7HEN  daisies  pied  and  violets  blue, 
'^     And  lady-smocks  all  alm-whitc, 
And  cuckoo-buds  of  yellow  hue 

I)o  p^iiat  the  meadovs  with  deKght, 
The  cuckoo  then,  on  every  tre«, 
Mocks  married  men;    for  thus  niigi  be. 
Cuckoo! 


•Jtf 


WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE 

CkIeocs  cuckoo  1—0  word  of  ftv, 
Uapldoifij  lo  s  manicd  car  I 

V/hn  sbepbcfd*  jiipe  oa  o»t«i  tvrtrt, 
And  merry  briu  are  ploiighnwn's  clocks, 

Wbrn  otrtkt  tmd,  uid  rooks,  and  daws. 
And  maidens  bleach  their  sununer  imockt 

The  cuckoo  then,  on  ercry  tree, 

Mocks  manied  mro;   for  thns  aiitgt  itt. 
Cuckoo! 

Cuckoo,  cuckoo  1—0  word  of  fear, 

Uajikaa^g  to  a  mamcd  car  I 


t2S. 


tl 


"WniEti  icicles  })»>{  by  the  wall, 

**      And  Dick  the  klie])licnl  blows  hi« 
Aod  Tom  bears  togs  into  ihe  hall, 

Asd  milk  comes  frazeo  home  in  |KiiI, 
When  blood  b  sJpp'd,  and  w^s  be  foul, 
Then  aighdy  singt  the  suring  owl, 

To-wWt  1 
To-wlio  I — a  ratrry  note, 
While  Sttavf  Joan  doth  keel  the  pot. 

When  all  alood  the  wind  doth  blow, 
Ami  cougluog  drovas  the  parson's  saw, 

And  birds  til  brooding  in  the  soow, 
Acut  Marian's  nose  looks  red  and  nw, 

When  roaned  ctab»  hiss  ia  the  bowl, 

Then  mchtljr  siags  the  staiiog  owl, 
To-whit! 

To-wbo! — a  mcTTy  mie^ 

While  gretuy  Jowi  doth  ktd  the  pot. 
nt.  bMtltUm. 


nail, 


WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE 


127. 


Fairy  Land 


/~\VER  bill,  over  dale, 

^-^     Thorough  bush,  thorough  brier, 

Over  park,   over  pale, 

Tliorough  flood,   thorough  fire, 

1  do  wander  everywhere. 

Swifter  than  the  moonfi'a  sphere;  . 

And  I  serve  the  f^ry  quL-cn, 

To  dew  he'  t\AyR  nnnn  thi-  green ; 

The  cowslij.  oners  bci 

In  their  goJ  ou  see; 

Those  b  UTS, 

!□  thostr  savours: 

I  must  go  >ps  here, 

And  hang  a  dip's  ear. 


12B.  ^ 

VOU  spotted  ■  tongue, 

■*■      Thorny  he  fen; 

Newts  and  blind  ong; 

Come  not  near  our  lairy  queen, 

Philomel,   with  melody, 
Sing  in  our  sweet  lullaby ; 
LuUa,  lulls,  lullaby;    lulla,  lulla,  lullaby! 

Never  harm. 

Nor  spell  nor  charm. 
Come  our  lovely  lady  nigh  j 
So,   good  night,   with  lullaby. 

Weaving  spiders,  come  not  here ; 

Hence,  you  long-lcgg'd  spinners,  hencel 

«8 


WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE 

Bwtin  liljck,  ipproach  not  oear; 
Worm  not  mail,  do  do  olience. 

Philomel,  with  melody, 
Sjng  is  our  sweet  luUabr; 
LuOa,  lutU,  lullabyi  InlU,  lulU,  InUibyl 

Never  kum. 

Nor  sprll  nov  chaim, 
Conw  our  iordjr  Udy  nigh; 
So,  good  night,  with  lullab]^, 

i2fi.  Hi 

/"^OME  unlo  thcM  yeDow  taitdt, 

^^     And  then  ukc  htnds: 

Coiut'sied  wbco  yoti  hare,  aod  ki&s'd,— 

The  witd  waves  whist, — 
Poot  ii  fcatly  here  and  durai 
And,  iwcct  sprites,  the  burthen  bear. 
Huk,  huri! 

Bow,  wow, 
The  watch-dogs  bwki 

Bow,  wow. 
Htti,  hatkl  I  hear 
Tht  atndB  of  stnuiing  dianticlecr 
Oy,  Coek-a-diddle-dow  I 

i}0.  h 

W^HERE  the  bcc  sucks  there  nick  I: 
"      In  a  cowslip's  bcU  I  lie; 
There  I  coudi  when  owk  do  cry. 
On  the  bat's  back  I  do  fly 
Aiier  nuninet  menily : 

Merrily,  metrily,  abail  I  lire  now, 
Under  the  blosKno  tlurt  hangs  ob  the  bough. 

'fit 


I3U 


i$z. 


CULL  rathoin  five  diy  father  U«s; 

■*■        Of  his  bones  are  coral  made ; 
Those  are  pearls  that  were  his  eyes; 

Notliing  of  him  that  doth  fade, 
But  doth  suffer  a  sea-change 
Into  som'  itnnge. 

Sea-nymj  s  knell  I 

g-dong. 
Hark!  -a— 

beU! 


'ELL  incy 

Or  10  tne  neart  »■   in  the  head? 
How  begot,  how  nourish^  I 

Reply,  reply. 
1 1  is  engcnder'd  in  the  eyes, 
With  gazing  fed  j    and   Fancy  die* 
lo  the  cradle  where  it  lies. 

Let  us  all  ring  Fancy's  kne!t : 
I'll  begin  it, — Ding,   dong,   belL 
All.  Ding,   dong,   bdl. 


Ij^.  Sweel-anJ-Twent/ 

^~\  MISTRESS  mine,  where  are  you  roaming? 
^-^     O,  stay  and  hear !   your  true  love  '9  coming, 

That  can  sing  both  high  and  low : 
Trip  no  fUither,  pretty  sweeting; 
Journeys  end  in  lovers  meeting. 

Every  wise  man's  son  doth  know. 

>8a 


™"^ 

WILLIAM  SHAKESPCARE            ^^| 

Wliu  i«  lore?  'tis  not  hemflcrt                  ^^^H 

PtneM  minh  huh  prewM  laughter  t               ^^^^H 

Whst's  to  come  is  nil)  naiuic:                   ^^^^| 

In  dcby  there  lw«  no  {tloniji                          ^^^^| 

Tttcn  come  kiss  mc,  swcct-and-twtntj  1           ^^^^| 

Youth's  t  stuff  will  not  endure.                 ^^^H 

ti4- 

^^H 

c 

OME  VHVf,  come  vna.j,  deMli,                   ^^^^^^| 

And  in  s»i  cypre*  let  me  be  laid;           ^^^^H 

Pty 

•w«y,  fljr  awiy,  breath ;                                     ^^^^H 

I 

un  slain  by  a  fair  cntd  nitid.                           ^^^^H 

Mjr 

shrood  of  white,  stuck  all  with  yew,               ^^^^H 

O  pfefon  iti                                         ^^^^| 

M, 

pan  of  death,  do  one  so  true                           ^^^^| 

Did  ahare  it.                                              ^^^H 

Not 

a  Aowcr,  not  a  flower  sweet,                             ^^^^| 

On  vaj  black  colSn  let  thure  be  strownt            ^^^^| 

Not 

a  fiicad,  not  a  friend  greet                               ^^^^| 

Mf  poor  corse,  where  my  bones  iluJl  be  tbrovm;    ^H 

A  thou&aad  tfaousuid  sighs  to  sin^                                ^| 

Lay  mc,  0,  where                                      ^H 

Sad 

trie  lorer  neitr  find  my  grare                         ^^^^^ 

To  Veep  there  I                                         ^^^^| 

isr- 

t/n^er  the  Greenwood  Tree           ^^^| 

Amtm 

singa:                                                             ^^H 

^^ 

T  TNDER  the  greenwood  trre,                  ^^^| 
^      Who  ioTt«  to  lie  with  me,                ^^^^| 

^H 

^H 

And  ittin  his  merry  '■o^                              ^^^^| 

^^ 

Umo  the  sweet  bitd's  throat,                        ^^^H 

r     tw.  nT""I*"P«-                                                        ^1 

1 

1 

WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE 

Came  hither,  come  hither,  come-  hither : 

Here  shall  he  sec 

No  enemy 
But  winter  and  rough  wc^iihpr. 

Who  doth  ambition  shuo. 
And  lores  to  live  i'  the  sun, 
Seeking  the  food  he  eats. 
And  pleased  with  what  he  gets, 
Come  hither,  come  hither,  come  hitlitr: 
Her      ■   ■■  ■ 
No 
But  winti  iier. 


Jagiui 


replies: 

^^^^^ 

If  it  do 

^^^^H 

That  3 

^^^^^ 

Leay 

nse 

A  St                                 1 

ie, 

Ducdaro                             i 

Ti6: 

M 

Gn             .     _ 

An  if  he  will  come  to  me. 


I3(f.     Blow,  blow,  thou  JVinter  H^inti 

DLOW,  blow,  thou  winter  wind, 
-*~^     Thou  art  not  so  unkind 

As  man's  ingratitude  ; 
Tliy  tooth  is  not  so  keen. 
Because  thou  art  not  seen. 
Although  thy  breath  be  rude. 
lb 


WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE 

Hetgh  bo !    sing,  beigh  bo !    unto  the  green  holly : 
Hen  ftieodship  is  fagaiag,  most  loving  mere  folly : 

Then  bdgh  bo,  th«  holly  1 

This  life  is  most  jolly. 

Freeze,  freeze,  thou  Utter  sky, 
That  dost  not  bite  so  nigh 

As  benefits  forgot: 
Though  thou  the  waters  warp, 
Thy  stiog  is  not  so  sharp 

As  fiiend  remember'd  aot. 
Hdgh  ho!    sing,  heigh  ho!    unto  the  green  bolly: 
Host  friendship  is  feigning,  most  loving  mere  folly : 

Then  beigh  ho,  the  holly  1 

This  life  is  most  jolly. 


I37>      Tt  was  a  Lover  and  his  Lass 

TT  was  a  lover  and  his  lass, 

''     With  a  bey,  and  a  ho,  and  a  hey  nonino, 

That  o'er  the  green  cora-field  did  pass, 

la  the  spring  time,   the  only  pretty  ring  tirae, 
Wheo  Inrds  do  sing,  hey  ding  a  ding,  ding ; 
Sweet  loveis  love  the  spring. 

Between  the  acres  of  the  rye. 

With  a  hey,  and  a  ho,  and  a  hey  nonino, 
These  pretty  country  folks  would  lie. 

In  the  spring  time,   the  only  pretty  ring  time, 
When  birds  do  sing,  hey  ding  a  ding,  dingj 
Sweet  lovers  love  the  spring. 

This  carol  they  began  that  hour. 

With  a  bey,  and  a  ho,  and  a  bey  nonino, 

"8j 


WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE 

How  thst  life  was  but  ■  (lower 

Id  Uie  spring  Ume,  t)ie  only  prenjr  rinj  lime. 
When  birds  do  sbg,  hey  ding  a  diag,  dutgi 
Sweet  loTcn  lore  the  spring. 

And,  th«rdor«,  ukc  the  present  time 

Willi  a  hc^,  and  b  lio,  and  a  hey  nonino, 

For  lone  b  crownM  with  the  prime 

In  tlic  spring  tinw,  the  only  pretty  ring  time, 

Wlico  birds  do  sing,  hey  ding  a  ding,  ding ; 

Sweet  lovrn  lora  the  tpriDg. 

tjS.     Take,  O  take  those  Lips  avaay 

■yAKE,  O  ute  ihoM  lips  a«ay, 
■^      That  so  sweetly  were  rorswomt 
And  those  eyes,  the  break  of  day, 

Lights  lli.it  do  mislead  the  mom ! 
But  my  kisses  bring  agiin. 

Bring  again  ; 
Seab  of  love,  but  K-al'd  in  rain, 
SeaI'd  in  riiia  I 


tip.  ^uiade 

LI  ARK!   barki   Uie  laik  at  heaven's  gate  slnj 
*■  '     And  Phabus  'gins  arise. 
His  steeds  to  water  at  thoic  »prings 

On  chaliced  flowers  that  lies; 
And  winking  Mnry-buds  bcg^n 

To  ope  their  goldca  cyts: 
With  ererythiag  that  pretty  bin. 

My  lady  sweet,  arise  I 
Arise,  arise  1 

*S4 


WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE 


140.  F'tiieh 

"CEAR  no  more  the  hpM  o'  il»e  lue, 
*      Nor  the  furious  winw's  r^^i 
TboD  ihy  worldly  usk  lust  done, 

Home  *rt  gone,  Mid  ti'«i  ihy  wi^csi 
GoJdm  Lids  and  |;iil»  all  imwt, 
As  chiniDi7>sww]Kn,  come  to  dust. 

Fear  no  more  the  frown  o'  the  gieai, 
Tbou  art  past  the  tyrant's  stroke  t 

Care  no  more  to  clotlie  and  eat ; 
To  thee  the  reed  »  as  the  oolt; 

The  soeptir,  leariKDg,  phytic,  must 

AJI  follow  this,  and  come  to  dutt. 

Fear  no  more  the  lighming-flash, 
Nor  the  ill-drtadcd  tbundcr-stooe -, 

Fear  not  sbnder,  censure  tasii  | 
Thoo  h«M  finisli'd  joy  and  moan: 

An  tonrs  yoong,  all  lorcrs  niust 

Consign  to  l2iee,  and  come  to  duSL 


No  cxoTciscr  hann  thee! 
Nor  no  witchcraft  charm  ihecl 
Ghost  unlaid  forbear  thee  I 
Kothiog  ill  come  near  thee  I 
Qwiet  coDSummatioa  hare) 
And  renowaid  be  thy  gnR! 


WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE 


141.  Bridai  Song 

D  OSES,  their  shaip  spines  being  gone, 
'■^     Not  royaJ  in  their  smells  alone, 
But  in  their  hue : 

iDi  faint, 

t  most  quaint, 

true  1 

.Ud  of  Vert 
I  rinoger, 

I! 

a  growing, 
J  :ds  blowing, 


All  dear  Nature's  children  sweet 
Lie  Tore  bride  aad  bridegroom's  feet, 

Blessing  their  sense! 
Not  an  angel  of  the  air. 
Bird  melodious  or  Urd  fair, 

Be  absent  hence] 

The  crow,  the  slanderous  cuckoo,  nor 
lie  boding  raven,  nor  chough  hoar. 

Nor  chattering  pye, 
May  on  our  bride-house  perch  or  sing. 
Or  with  them  any  discord  bring. 

But  from  it  fly  I 

J  or  Jolin  Fleiebfr, 


•M 


WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE 


14J.       Virgf  of  the  Three  S^eetts 

URNS  Kid  odours  briog  a.tftj f 
Vapoun,  aghSt  dukn  the  dajrl 
Our  dde  raoce  dodljr  looks  than  dyioj;; 
Bilms  and  gams  and  heavy  cbMn, 
Sacred  ■mi*  (ill'd  with  tore. 
And  cUtnoors  through  the  vitd  air  flying! 

Come,  all  sad  aod  soleoui  shows, 
That  are  quick-rynl  Plntsur«'s  (besf 
We  coatint  naught  clx  but  woe». 

I  or  Join  FliUitr. 


i4St  Orpbats 

/~\RPHEUS  wWi  hu  lute  made  trees 
^-^     And  the  niountiiin  (ops  that  fretM 

Bow  tliemsrlTes  when  he  did  siogt 
To  las  music  |>laat8  sod  Sowcts 
Eret  spnuigi  «  bob  and  sbowen 

There  had  made  a  bttkig  sprn^ 

Everf  thing  diat  bnrd  lum  ^j, 
Ekb  the  bilkws  of  the  te». 

Hung  their  h«ada  and  then  by  hf. 
In  swtct  music  b  such  art, 

KtlKni  care  and  grief  of  heart 

Pall  asleep,  or  hearing,  die. 

;  or  Jobi  flriihrr. 


4oI«I  UtMDtatko*. 


CMTCBt]  (unuaod. 


WILLIAM  SHAKESPnARE 


144.      Tie  Pimix  and  the  Turtle 

I  ET  th«  bird  of  loudcM  ky 
^    On  tlie  Kolc  Arabun  tree, 
Henld  sad  ud  tnuupet  be, 
To  whose  turand  chaste  win^s  obey. 

But  thou  shrieking  harfain^. 
Foul  precurrer  of  the  fiend, 
Aogur  of  the  Ivwr's  end, 

To  this  iroop  come  thou  not  am. 

From  this  sesuon  interdict 
Enry  fowl  of  tjmat  wing 
Save  tlie  caglu,  fcallier'd  Itingi 

Keep  tlie  obseiiuy  so  siricL 

Let  the  priest  in  surplice  white 
That  dcfunctive  muBc  can. 
Be  the  death-divining  (w.in, 

Lett  the  mjuicm  Udi  his  right. 

Aod  thou,  treble-dated  crow, 
Thai  thy  sible  gender  mak'si 
Widi  t)ic  bitJili  tfiou  Riv'n  and  tak'st, 

'MoDgst  our  raouTEten  sliult  thou  )to. 

Here  the  anthem  doth  commence : — 
Love  and  constancy  is  dead ) 
Pbccnix  and  the  turtle  fied 

In  •  muOul  flame  from  hence. 

So  they  lond,  u  love  ic  twain 

Had  the  estence  but  in  one; 

Two  distinct*,  diiinon  none  1 

Numbei  there  in  love  was  slain. 

eanjlnow*- 


WILLbVM  SHAKESPEARE 

Huits  ronotc,  yet  not  asuodci  t 
DiMance,  and  oo  space  was  *etti 
Twixt  the  turtle  and  his  <]un:ni 

But  b  tlxm  it  were  a  wonder. 

So  btnrecn  tl^eni  love  did  shiae, 
ThM  the  tunic  taw  lus  rijiht 
Flmnng  in  the  ^hctnix'  sight  | 

Either  wn  the  other's  mine. 

Pn>peny  was  thus  sppiird, 

I'hst  the  self  wu  tioi  the  sunc ; 
Single  nature's  double  name 

Ncnher  two  nor  on«  was  oU'd. 

JUana,  in  iisctf  oonrounded, 
Saw  diiiswo  {row  together) 
To  ihcmsclm  yet  either  Btiitlieri 

Sinn{ie  wtrt  w  well  compounded, 

That  k  cried,  'How  true  a  twna 
Seetneth  this  oocoordaiit  one! 
Lore  bath  reasoo,  rcaMm  oooe 

If  what  parts  cao  so  rcnuiiu' 

Whereupon  it  made  thb  threoe 
To  the  i)bcnix  and  the  dove, 
Co-suj>nnte9  and  stars  of  loi«, 

As  cbonis  to  their  tra^c  scene. 


TBBSflOS 


DEAUTY,  tniih,  and  rarity, 
"^  Grace  in  sU  wnplicitj. 
Here  encloKil  m  cinders  lie. 


WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE 

Utaih  a  BOW  the  fivxmx'  nest; 
Aod  the  turtle'*  loyt)  brcMl 
To  eternity  doth  mt, 

Leaving  no  postoitjri 
Twat  not  their  infiraiity, 
It  was  matried  chani^. 

Troth  may  tttat,  but  ctaaot  bej 
Beauty  brag,  but  'tis  tK)t  she  i 
Thith  and  beauty  buried  be. 

To  thit  urn  let  those  rcpdr 
Thm  arc  cither  true  or  fair) 
Fof  thcM  dead  birds  sigh  a  pnyer. 


SHALL  I  compare  tliee  to  a  Summer's  ityi 
Thou  art  mure  lovelj  and  mote  icmpcntlc : 
Rough  winds  do  ^hike  the  d:irlir)g  buds  of  May 
And  Suiumrr'a  Icjsc  haili  all  too  short  a  date: 
Sometime  too  hoi  tiu:  eye  of  heaven  shines. 
And  often  is  his  gold  conplexion  dintm'd; 
Ackd  erery  fair  front  bar  sometime  declines, 
By  chance  or  nature's  chao^ng  coutw  untnmm'd : 
But  thy  eternal  Summer  ihall  not  fade 
Nor  lose  ]««M3sioa  of  ibu  fair  thou  oweu : 
Not  shall  Donh  hng  thou  waiidcre&t  in  hU  shade, 
When  in  eternal  lines  to  time  thou  growesi : 
So  long  ts  men  can  breathe,  or  cyrs  can  sec, 
So  loi^  lives  this,  and  tlus  gives  life  la  thct. , 


14^. 


WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE 


tt 


^^fTHE'H,  in  ditgrMC  wWi  Fortune  and  men's  tyn, 
^^    I  ill  (limr  brw«cp  my  outcut  sute, 
[And  trouble  deJ*  hnrcn  wiOi  my  bootless  crits, 
I  And  look  apon  myictf,  aod  cune  my  fate, 
|Wiiliiog  me  like  to  one  more  rich  i&  lupc, 
featured  like  him,  like  bim  with  friends  ^caaen, 
[DrkifiDj;  tills  mu's  art  aod  that  man'»  icope, 
IWitli  what  I  raoM  enjoy  contented  leau; 
JYet  IB  thntc  thouithu  rayMlf  almost  dcsjNHng— ' 
lH;9ly  I  think  on  thee:    and  tlicn  my  stacci 
iLdic  to  th«  Lark  at  bteak  of  day  arismit 
[From  (ullen  tanh,  slogs  liyrans  m  Heaven's  gate; 
For  thy  sivcct  love  rememb'itd  itxh  wealth  brings 
That  then  I  sconi  to  change  my  atatc  with  Kings. 


147. 


ttt 


>  ''^A^^EN  to  the  Sessions  of  sweet  silent  thought 
I  smmMHi  np  reraerobnnce  of  things  past, 
I  sigh  the  lack  of  many  a  thbg  1  sought, 
Aod  vith  old  woM  new  wail  my  dear  time's  waste: 
TbcB  can  I  drawn  an  eye,  uocwd  to  flow, 
Fur  precious  fneoils  hid  ta  dc-Jth's  dateless  oight, 
Aod  weep  afresh  lore's  long-siDoe-caooetl'd  woe. 
And  moan  tfa*  expcate  of  many  a  Tonish'd  sight: 
Tfcta  can  I  gricre  at  grievances  foregone. 
And  heatily  btm  wo*  to  woe  tell  o'er 
The  sad  accomii  of  fbre-bemoanM  moan, 
Which  I  «»cw  ]uy  as  if  not  paid  before. 

But  if  the  whOe  1  think  00  tltec,  dear  friead, 
AS  tosses  an  restored  aod  sorrows  end. 


WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE 

t48.  rv 

'T'HY  botom  is  cedcartd  with  al!  heans 
^       Wliich  I,  l>y  lacking,  hive  suppoijsl  dcadi 
And  there  retails  Love,  aad  all  Love's  lovbg  (ons. 
And  all  those  frieoda  which  I  thought  buriid. 
How  many  a  holy  aad  obsequious  tear 
Hath  dear  irlipous  love  stol'n  Trom  mine  eye, 
As  interest  of  the  dead  t — which  now  a]>pear 
But  thing!  removed  that  hiddrn  in  thee  lie. 
Tbou  an  ihc  grave  where  buried  love  doth  live, 
Hung  with  the  trophies  of  my  \ovtn  gone. 
Who  all  their  ptrte  of  mc  to  thee  &A  give: 
— Tliat  due  of  many  now  ts  thine  alone  i 
Th<ir  images  I  loved  I  view  in  thee. 
And  tliou,  sU  tlicy,  hast  all  the  all  of  me. 


I4p.  * 

VVTHAT  b  your  substance,  whereof  are  you  made, 
'^    Tint  miiliuns  of  stnnge  shadows  on  you  tend] 

Since  crery  one  h;ith,  etery  one,  otic  xhadc, 

And  you,  but  one:,  cm  every  shadow  lend. 

DcKTibc  Adonis  and  the  counterfeit 

Is  poorly  imuatcd  alter  you; 

On  Hclen^  check  all  an  of  brwty  set. 

And  yvti  in  Grcciai  tires  lie  [luntcd  new: 

S[ieak  of  ilic  Spring  and  foiion  of  the  year. 

The  one  doiJi  shadow  of  youf  beamy  show, 

The  other  as  your  bounty  tloth  appear; 

And  you  m  every  blcuiU  shape  we  know. 
In  all  external  grace  you  have  «ome  pan. 
But  you  like  none,  oooe  yoo,  for  constant  hcan. 
tij.  toUon]  plcnlf. 


WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE 


/~\  HOW  cnocb  more  doth  beauty  hauKcna  itfm 
^-^     By  lltu  svmt  onunKOt  wfakh  mull  doth  ^vc  I 
Tbr  Ro>«  looks  fair,  but  fuiier  we  it  deem 
Fur  tfait  sweet  odour  which  doth  in  it  lii«. 
The  CaBk«T-hlaofn.i  have  fiiU  a>  ikcp  t  dye 
As  the  perftimtd  tiacturc  of  the  Ko6irs 
Hang  on  such  thonu,  and  plaj  as  wMtooly 
When  wmmer'B  hreMh  thar  ma^M  bods  discloses: 
Bun— for  their  nnue  only  >»  tlieir  show — 
Itiry  lire  UDWoo'd  «id  unteitpected  bde, 
I)*e  to  ihciDK-lm.     Sweet  Roiei  do  BOt  fo; 
Of  their  sweet  deaths  are  sweetest  odotBS  made 
And  so  of  yoV)  beitnraiut  and  loTcly  youih, 
When  tlut  sluU  nde,  my  rene  disuU  your  trmh. 


///. 


vii 


DEINC  your  tbvc,  what  should  I  do  but  tend 
*^     Upon  the  hours  and  times  of  your  desare? 
1  hare  no  precious  time  at  all  to  spend, 
Noe  ierricc*  to  do,  iiii  you  re^iira. 
Nor  Aaie  I  chide  the  worfd-witlwut-end  hour 
Whi]M  1,  my  sorcTcigD,  watcb  the  clock  Itir  you, 
Nor  think  the  hittemess  of  absence  mku 
When  y<iu  hare  bid  your  fcmot  once  adieu; 
Nor  due  I  question  with  ny  jtalous  thought 
Wl»etc  you  may  be,  or  your  aHiirs  supT^se, 
But,  like  »  tad  sUre,  suy  aod  diiok  of  nought 
Sire,  where  you  are  how  b4ppy  you  make  tliosel 
So  trve  »  fool  la  love,  tlut  in  your  Wdl, 
Though  you  do  any  thing,  he  thinks  no  ill. 


WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE 


1^2.  vm 

'T'HAT  time  of  year  thou  ms/ti  m  mc  belioJi) 
'''      When  yellow  leave*,  or  Done,  or  few,  do  hang 
Upon  UioM  bouf;ht  which  shake  against  ihc  cuM— 
Bare  ruinM  choin  where  laic  the  sweet  birds  saop 
In  aie  thou  «ccV  the  twilight  of  such  diy 
As  after  Suiuct  fadcth  in  the  West, 
Which  by  and  by  black  night  dotli  take  away, 
Dntb's  secood  y:\{,  that  smIs  up  all  in  mt. 
In  me  tliou  sce'st  the  glowing  of  such  fire 
That  oa  the  uhes  of  his  youlli  doth  lie, 
As  the  deatli-t)cd  whereon  it  must  expire. 
Consumed  with  that  which  it  wu  nouridi'd  by. 

Thi»  thou  pcreeiv'st,  which  nukes  thy  lo»c  ntore  strong^ 
To  loTc  tlut  well  which  thou  must  leave  ere 


'Si- 


tx 


UAREWELLI   thou  an  too  dear  lor  my  poe«esnng, 
*-       And  tike  enough  thou  know'te  tby  cstimsic; 
Tbe  choiter  of  thy  wonh  fym  tbtc  idosingg 
My  bonds  in  thee  are  all  detenninste. 
For  bow  do  I  hold  thee  but  by  thy  ffrnxiagi 
And  for  that  riches  where  is  my  deaerringi 
The  cause  of  this  fair  gift  in  me  is  wanting 
And  V)  my  pitcnt  back  again  is  swcriing. 
Thyself  thou  rit'si,  thy  o«n  worth  then  oot  kno 
Or  me,  to  whom  tl)Ou  gav'st  it,  else  mistaking; 
So  thy  great  gilt,  ujxm  mbpH&ion  growiftf. 
Comes  hcumc  again,  on  better  judgmeM  makingi 
Thus  have  I  had  thev,  as  a  dnam  dotfa  fisner 
I;i  sleep  a  King;    but  waking    do  such  mauer. 


WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE 

IT4'  V 

'T'HEM  hate  me  wbcD  thou  wilt ;  if  ever,  now ) 
^     Now,  while  the  world  is  bent  my  deeds  to  cross, 

Join  with  the  spte  of  fortune,  make  me  bow, 

Aod  do  not  drop  in  for  an  afteit4oss: 

Ah  I   do  not,  when  my  heart  hath  'scaped  this  sorrow, 

Come  m  the  rearward  of  a  conquer'd  woej 

Gire  not  a  vmdj  night  a  rainy  morrow. 

To  linger  o«it  a  purposed  overthraw. 

If  thou  wilt  leave  me,  do  not  leave  me  last, 

When  other  petty  griefs  have  done  their  spite. 

But  in  the  onset  come:   so  shall  I  taste 

Ai  first  the  very  worst  of  fortune's  might; 

And  other  strains  of  woe,  which  now  seem  woe, 
Compared  with  loss  of  thee  will  not  seem  so  1 

///.  xi 

'T'HEY  that  have  power  to  hurt  and  will  do  none, 
^      That  do  not  do  the  thing  they  most  do  show, 

Who,  moving  others,  are  themselves  as  stone, 

Uomov&l,  cold,  and  to  temptation  slow — 

They  rightly  do  inherit  heaven's  graces, 

Aod  husband  nature's  riches  from  expense; 

They  are  the  Lords  and  owners  of  their  faces, 

Others,  but  stewards  of  their  excellence. 

The  summer's  Sov/ec  is  to  the  summer  sweet, 

Though  to  itself  it  only   live  and  die ; 

But  if  that  flower  with  base  infection  meet, 

The  basest  weed  outJiraves  his  dignity ; 

For  sweetest  things  turn  sourest  by  their  deeds} 
Lilies  that  fester  smell  far  worse  than  weeds. 

'95 


fs  tinwi 
aw, 

Dc.inng  the  wintoa  burden  of  Ae  ftiate 
L.ik<:  wutow'd  tt'ocnbt  alter  ihcU  Lord's  dtccLisvj 
Yrt  this  Bbundant  bsw  wcm'd  to  mt 
But  hope  of  orpliaas  sod  ua&ther'd  fruit ; 
For  Summer  and  his  jileaaurM  wait  on  thcc, 
And,  tlxiu  au'ay,  the  very  birds  arc  mute: 
Or  if  they  »ing,  "lis  with  mi  dull  ii  citeer 
TbK  Itavo  \ook  pile,  dreading  tlw  Winter 's 


tT7. 


XttI 


pKOM  yoa  have  I  been  Aaetin  in  the  spring, 
^      Wlicti  pnwd-ped  April,  dnss'd  b  itl  his  irim, 
Hath  put  a  tjiiril  of  y3a»i\  tn  everything. 
That  Itcary  SaUtm  bugh*d  and  kap'd  with  hini. 
Vet  not  the  lays  of  bird*,  nof  the  »«vet  snril 
Of  ^llcrent  flowers  in  odour  and  in  hue. 
Could  make  me  any  nunmer't  sto^  tell, 
Or  from  their  proud  bp  piMk  ihem  uheic  they  gmr 
Nor  did  1  wonder  si  the  Lil/s  white, 
Nor  praise  the  deep  vermilion  la  the  Rose) 
They  weit  but  sweet,  but  figwvs  of  delight, 
Drawa  aftet  you,  you  pattern  of  all  thoir. 
Vet  sevm'd  it  Winter  still,  and,  you  away. 
As  wiih  your  ehadow  I  with  thne  did  pl^. 


M 


WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE 
Y  love  is  sbmgthen'd,  though  more  weak  in  Kcmiag; 


I  lore  not  less,  though  less  the  show  a{^)ear: 
That  iore  is  merchandised  whose  rich  esteeming 
The  owner's  toogiie  do^  publish  everywhere. 
Our  love  was  new,  and  then  bat  in  the  spring, 
Wbea  I  was  wont  to  greet  it  with  my  lays; 
As  Philomel  in  summer's  front  doth  sing 
And  5t^«  ber  [npe  in  growth  of  riper  days: 
Not  that  the  summer  is  less  pleasant  now 
Than  when  her  mournful  hymns  did  hush  the  night, 
Bat  that  wild  music  burthens  every  bough, 
And  sweets  grown  common  lose  their  dear  delight. 
Therefore,  like  her,  I  sometime  hold  my  tongue, 
Because  I  would  not  dull  you  with  my  song. 

■  1  'O  me,  far  friend,  you  never  (an  be  old; 
^      For  »5  you  were  when  first  your  eye  I  eyed, 
Snch  seems  your  beauty  still.     Three  Winters  cold 
Have  from  the  forests  shook  three  Summers'  pride; 
Three  beauteous  springs  to  yellow  Autumn  lum'd 
In  process  of  the  seasons  have  I  seen, 
Three  April  perfumes  in  three  hot  Junes  burn'd. 
Since  first  I  saw  you  fresh,   which  yet  are  green. 
Ah  I    yet  doth  beauty,  like  a  dial-hand, 
Steal  from  Us  figure,  and  no  pa(%  perceived ; 
So  your  sweet  hue,   which  methinks  still  doth  stand. 
Hath  motion,  and  mine  eye  may  be  deceived : 
For  fear  of  which,  hear  this,  thou  age  unbred : 
Ere  you  were  bom  was  beauty's  summer  dead. 

•97 


IS9. 


WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE 


xvr 


TW'HIvN  in  the  chronide  of  wasted  time 

"^      I  wc  ck-Kriptiom  of  the  fatitst  wight), 
And  beauty  nuking  beautiful  old  ritne 
In  pruH-  of  Ladies  dead  and  loHy  Knjgbt&i 
Then,  in  the  blazoo  of  iwret  bnuty's  best. 
Of  hand,  of  foot,  of  lip,  of  eye,  of  brow, 
I  see  tlvrir  antique  pen  would  hare  exprest 
Ercn  nich  a  beauty  as  you  nutter  now. 
So  all  their  pniiics  are  but  prophecies 
Of  this  oor  umc,  all  you  prcfignring ; 
And  for  they  look'd  but  with  dinning  «yes, 
They  had  DOl  skill  enough  your  worth  to  mtgx 
Foe  we,  which  now  behold  these  pnacM  days. 
Have  eyes  to  wonder,  but  lack  toiigues  to  praai 


i6i. 


xvrt 


/^  NEVER  »y  that  I  was  false  of  beat, 
^-^     Though  absence  seem'd  ray  fiame  to  qcollfy ! 
As  easy  mi^t  I  from  myself  depart, 
As  froRi  my  tod,  which  in  ihy  breast  doth  lie: 
That  is  my  home  of  love  i   if  I  htTO  r«tsed, 
Like  him  'hat  trarcU  I  return  aj^n, 
JuM  to  tlie  time,  not  with  the  time  exchanged. 
So  that  myself  briog  water  f(M  my  sain. 
Never  hcliere:,  though  in  my  nature  reign'd 
All  (riiliiei  that  besiege  all  kinds  of  bloCN], 
That  it  conid  so  prepoit'rously  be  suua'd, 
To  lesTC  for  Dothioj!  all  thy  sum  of  good : 
For  nothing  this  wide  Uniivrsc  I  caU, 
Save  thou,  my  Rose;   in  it  thou  in  my  all. 


WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE 


162.  xviii 

I   ET  me  not  to  the  mirriage  of  me  minds 

^     Adroit  impedinents.     Lore  is  not  love 

Which  alien  when  it  altentioa  findx, 

Or  hends  with  Ac  rcmoTcr  to  rcmore: 

O,  Dol    it  is  an  ctcr-fixH  mark. 

That  looks  00  tcm{<sts  and  is  ncrer  shaketi  | 

It  h  the  wtf  to  cTtry  WMHi'iiDS  bark, 

Whott  worth 's  unknovrn,  altbou^  bis  height  be  taken. 

Lova'a  not  Time's  fool,  diovgh  naj  Upi  aad  cheeks 

Wrthin  hn  hatdiog  sickle't  oompaxi  come; 

Lore  alien  not  with  hi*  brief  houn  and  weeks, 

But  beare  it  out  emi  lo  the  edge  of  doon  :— 

If  thit  be  error  aad  upon  tiic  proved, 

I  neter  writ,  Dor  po  num  ever  loved. 


'T^H'  expcDse  of  Spirit  in  a  w>5te  of  diarae 
^      II  lut  ia  action!   aad  tiU  action,  last 

Ta  fojared,  mordcrous,  bloody,  full  of  bhnie, 

Sangf,  txtremc,  nidc,  cruel,  not  to  tnut; 

Enjoy'd  ao  sooner  but  detpisid  Mraighi; 

Past  reason  honted  |  and,  ao  sooner  had. 

Past  reason  baud,  as  a  swaJlow'd  bait 

Ob  purpoie  bid  to  make  the  laker  nad: 

Mad  is  fannil,  and  in  pOMcssioa  so; 

Had,  baviag,  and  in  <)uest  to  hare,  extitmet 

A  bGss  in  proof,  and  pnwed,  a  very  woe; 

Before,  a  joy  proposed ;    behind,  a  dmin. 

All  tliis  the  woHd  well  knows ;   yet  nonr  knows  weD 
To  shun  the  beawn  that  leads  mca  ta  dtis  hell. 


WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE 

164.  XX 

pOOR  soul,  the  centre  of  my  rinfiil  earth— 
*        My  Hnfu!  eartli  thwc  rebel  power?  »m)y— 
Why  dust  thou  pine  witJiin  and  sutler  <t«anh, 
Paintiojl  thy  outward  walls  M  co»tIy  gsyf 
Wliy  M  h.'^t  ««.  hnriflg  w  short  ■  lease, 
Do«  thou  upoii  thy  fa<Un|t  niafiiooa  spend? 
Shnll  wtirmx,  mlierttor»  of  ilii«  excess, 
Eat  up  thy  chiirge  \    Is  tha  thy  body's  end  \ 
Then,  soal,  fire  thou  upon  thy  servintlt  loss. 
And  Icl  that  pine  to  ftggravate  ihy  store; 
Buy  lerms  divine  in  selling  hours  of  dross ', 
Within  be  fed,  without  be  tifh  00  more: 

So  shalt  thou  feed  on  Dexih.  that  feeds  on  moi; 

And  Desth  onoe  dead,  tliere  's  no  more  dying  then. 


RICHARD  ROWLANDS 
16$.  Lullaby 

UPON  my  lap  my  soremj!"  siw 
And  sacks  npon  my  bresM ; 
Mexitirne  hu  love  maintains  my  life 
And  gi»CT  my  sense  her  rest. 
Sing  lullaby,   my  little  boy, 
Sing  lullaby,  mine  only  joy! 

When  ihou  hast  taken  thy  repast, 

RepoM.  my  babe,  on  mc; 

So  may  tliy  mother  and  thy  nurse 

Thy  cndle  also  be. 

Sing  lullaby,  my  little  boy. 
Sing  lullaby,  nunc  only  joy  I 


xsh-" 


RICHARD  ROWLANDS 

I  giien  that  duty  doth  not  work 
All  that  my  wishing  would ; 
Because  I  would  not  be  to  thee 
But  io  the  best  I  should. 

Stag  lullaby,  my  litde  boy, 
SiDg  lullaby,  mine  only  joyl 

Yet  aa  I  am,  and  as  I  may, 
I  must  and  will  be  thine, 
Though  all  too  little  for  thyself 
Vouchsafing  to  be  mine. 

Sing  lullaby,  my  little  boy, 
Siog  luUal^,  mine  only  joy  I 


THOMAS  NASHE 
iSS.  Spring 

iSfi7-i6oi 

CPRING,  the  sweet  Spring,  is  the  year's  pleasant  king; 
*^     Then  blooms  each  thing,  then  maids  dance  in  a  ring. 
Cold  doth  not  sting,  the  pretty  birds  do  siog — 
Cuckoo,  jug'jug,  pu-we,  to-witta-woo ! 

The  palm  and  may  make  country  houses  gay, 
Lambs  frisk  and  play,  the  shepherds  pipe  all  day. 
And  we  hear  aye  birds  tune  this  merry  lay — 
CntJcoo,  jug-jug,  pu-we,  to-witta-woo ! 

The  fields  breathe  sweet,  the  daisies  kiss  oiu*  feet. 
Young  loreis  meet,  old  wives  a-sunning  sit, 
In  erery  street  these  tunes  our  ears  do  greet — 
Cuckoo,  jug-jug,  pu-we,  to-witta-woo! 
Spring,  the  sweet  Spring  I 

H  3  *>■ 


THOMAS  NASHE 

lrf7.  Tn  Time  of  TestUence 

A  DIBU,  &rewdl  euth'i  bliu! 
^^     ThJB  woild  uncertain  in; 
Pood  arc  life's  lustful  joys, 
DcaU)  prmct  Uu-m  all  but  toyt. 
None  from  his  daru  cw  Hyi 
I  am  sick,  I  must  di«^ 

Lt^  havi  mirtj  m  d// 

Rich  mni,  trust  not  in  wealih, 
Gold  cannot  buy  you  health : 
Phync  himself  must  fade ; 
All  things  to  end  arc  made; 
The  plague  full  swtit  goes  by; 
I  am  sick,  I  must  die — 

LcrJ,  havt  tatrcj  m  ut  ■ 

Beaulj  is  but  a  fiovivr 
Wlucii  wrinkles  will  devour  ( 
BfighUcn  falls  from  the  air; 
Quccoa  have  died  yoaog  >nd  fair; 
I>asi  haili  closed  Helen's  eye; 
I  am  sick,  I  must  die — 

l^rd,  have  mirpf  en  tu  t 

Strmgdi  stoops  unto  the  gmv, 
Worms  f«ed  on  Hector  I^tc; 
Swords  may  doc  figbt  with  feie; 
Eanh  niU  holds  ope  hrr  gaw} 
Csme,  tomt  J  the  bellK  do  cry  i 
1  am  nek,  I  mnst  die — 

L«rJ,  hmit  mmy  m  ujJ 


THOMAS  NASHE 

Wk  with  hi*  wunooocn 
Tastrth  <lrMh'*  bineracMt 
Hril's  cxcnriooer 
Hath  no  cars  for  u  besr 
Whu  raUi  an  cm  rrply; 
1  an  sick,  1  must  ilii:— 

Hanr  tbrrcfW  each  dtgrte 
To  wdcooic  dntinjri 
Ham  a  our  hrriuge, 
Eonh  but  a  fhyn't  »Mgr. 
Movnf  we  ttoto  the  sky  i 
I  am  nek,  I  mua  die— 


THOMAS  CAMPION 

i6S.  Cherr/Sipe 

INHERE  i«  a  gankii  in  her  face 
■*■     Where  rosw  and  wWie  lUirt  Uow| 
A  hraTMily  puadiac  b  that  pLice, 
Whcnin  all  plnsaot  fruits  do  Bow : 
There  cherries  grw  which  none  may  buy 
Till  •  Cberry-fipe '  tbcmsclirs  do  cry. 

Tbotc  cherries  &irly  do  cdcIok 
Of  oricm  pearl  a  double  row, 
Which  when  bcr  lovely  buj;hia'  (ihows, 
They  kkok  Ukc  rowbucU  6l]'d  with  «i>ov: 
Yet  them  nor  peer  nor  prince  can  boy 
Till  '  Cherjy-ripc '  thenisHees  do  cry. 


THOMAS  CAMPION 

Her  rjts  like  angels  vrttch  them  stJO: 

Her  brows  like  bended  bows  do  susd, 
Tliii-at'ninjt  with  [liwcinj;  ftowm  to  kill 
Ali  th«  attempt  with  eye  or  load 
Tlioie  Mcred  chenics  to  conte  nigh, 
Till  'Cbcrry-ripe '  themselvn  do  cry. 

I(fp.  JLaun 

DOSE-CHEEK'D  Lat^a,  coraei 
^^     Sing  lliou  smoothly  with  ihy  beauty's 
Silent  imisic,  either  othef 
Sweetly  gncing. 

LoTcly  (onai  do  Row 
From  concent  divinely  (nmiA  t 
Hea\-en  is  music,  and  thy  beauty'* 
Dinh  U  hcavcoly. 

These  dull  notes  we  sing 
DtKords  need  for  helps  to  grace  them; 
Only  beauty  purely  loring 
Knows  no  diKOid  { 

But  sttil  mores  del^ht, 
Like  clear  &i>rin;^  mew'd  by  fiowa^ 
Etw  ]>crfect,  ercr  in  tliem- 
scltes  etertul. 

170.  I 

COLLOW  thy  fair  sun,  unbnppy  Asdow  I 
*       Though  thou  be  black  as  night, 

And  she  made  all  of  light, 
Yet  follow  thy  fair  «un,  unhappy  tbadowt 


THOMAS  CAMPION 

FoOow  ber,  whose  light  thy  light  deprivethl 

Though  hoc  thou  Hv'st  disgraced, 

Asd  she  in  heaven  is  placed, 
Yet  fellow  her  whose  light  the  worid  revivethl 

Fdlow  chose  pore  beams,  whose  beau^  buniethl 

That  to  have  scoichM  thee 

As  thou  still  black  must  be, 
'no  her  kind  beams  thy  Uack  to  brightness  turoeth, 

FoBow  her,  while  jet  her  glory  shioeth! 

Tbtn  comes  a  locUess  oight 

That  will  dim  all  her  light; 
Aod  this  the  black  unhaj^  shade  dirinetli. 

FoDov  itill,  nnce  so  thy  fates  ordainSd] 

The  son  roost  have  his  shade. 

Till  both  at  ooce  do  fade, — 
The  Sim  still  prored,  the  shadow  sbll  dlsd^n^ 

t7t.  it 

P^OLLOW  yonr  saint,  follow  whh  accents  sweet ! 

Haste  yon,  sad  notes,  fall  at  her  flying  feet  I 
There,  wrapt  in  chnd  of  sorrow,  pity  move, 
And  tell  the  raiisber  of  my  soul  I  perish  for  her  love : 
fiitf  if  she  scorns  my  nerer-ceasiog  pain. 
Them  burst  with  sighing  in  her  Mght,  and  ne'er  return  again ! 

AH  that  I  song  still  to  her  praise  did  tend; 

Still  she  was  first,  still  she  my  songs  did  end; 

Yet  she  my  love  and  muuc  both  doth  fly, 

The  amsic  that  her  echo  is  and  beauty's  sympathy: 

Then  let  my  notes  ponue  her  scorafiil  flight! 

It  shall  suffice  that  they  were  breathed  and  died  for  her 

"9 


THOMAS  CAMPION 


172.  yobhcum  est  Tope 

YJ^HEN  ihou  must  hone  to  shades  of  mKtergrou&u, 

*•     And  llitre  arriwd,  a  new  admirid  guest, 
The  bciutcous  ipirits  do  vDgirt  dice  rouad, 
Wlutc  Ic^v,  bltUic  Helen,  and  the  rest, 
To  hear  the  stories  of  thy  fiAish'd  lore 
Prom  that  smooth  toogue  whose  imisic  Itelt  can  mote;^ 

Theo  wilt  thou  speak  of  han^eting  delights, 

Of  inm^uen  and  rvtcis  which  Sweirt  youth  did  nuke, 

Of  loumey*  and  great  ehallenj;e9  of  knights, 

And  all  these  triumphs  for  thy  bcuty's  »ake; 

When  thou  hast  told  thoc  honours  done  to  thee, 

Then  ttll,  0  lell,  how  thou  dJdat  murdn  me! 


i7i.  yi  H/mn  in  Tratst  of  Neptune 

iF  Neptune's  emprc  let  u*  sing. 


o- 


At  whose  command  the  waves  obey} 
To  whom  the  riivrs  uibuic  pay, 
Down  tlie  high  mouDlains  sliding : 
To  whom  the  scaly  mtioa  yields 
Homage  for  the  crysta]  Gelds 

Wherein  tlicy  dwell : 
And  every  sea-god  pays  a  gem 
Ycaily  out  of  his  wat'ry  ceil 
To  deck  great  Neptune's  diadem. 

The  Tritons  dancbg  in  a  ring 
Before  hit  folace  gates  do  make 
The  water  with  their  echoes  quake, 
Like  the  great  ihiioder  sonodtng: 


tiA 


THOMAS  CAMPION 

The  sea-nymphs  chaot  thnr  accents  shiill. 
And  the  sirens,  taught  to  kill 

With  their  sweet  Toicc, 
Make  v^ij  echoiog  rock  reply 
Unto  their  gentle  rounnuring  lunse 
The  piaise  of  Nepttme's  empery. 

174.  fVittter  Nights 

^^OW  winter  nights  enlarge 
^  "    The  number  of  their  hours, 
And  clouds  their  storms  discharge 

Upon  the  airy  towers. 
Let  now  the  chimneys  blaze 

And  cups  o'erflow  with  wioei 
Let  weU-nined  words  amaze 

With  harmony  divine. 
Now  yellow  waxen  lights 

Shall  wait  on  honey  love. 
While  youthful  revels,  masques,  and  courtly  sights 

Sleep's  leaden  spells  remove. 

This  time  doth  well  dispense 

With  lovers'  long  discourse; 
Much  speech  haih  some  defence, 

Though  beauty  no  remorse. 
All  do  not  alt  things  well; 

Some  measures  comely  tread, 
Some  knotted  riddles  tell, 

Some  poems  smoothly  read. 
The  summer  hath  his  joys, 

And  winter  his  delights; 
Though  love  and  all  his  pleasures  are  but  toys, 

They  shorten  tedious  nights. 

"07 


THOMAS  CAMPION 


I7f.  lateger  Fitae 

T^HE  man  (rf  life  upright, 
^    Whofw  guililcu  Itnn  is  Tctv 
From  ill  dnhomcst  deeds, 
Oi  (hougbt  of  TUity ; 

T^  nsD  whose  lilrat  days 
In  hBrmteiS  joys  are  sj^etit, 

Whom  hopes  cinnot  delude, 
Nor  sorrow  discontent  i 

That  maa  needs  neither  towere 
Nor  Bnnoui  for  defence, 

Nor  sfcra  vaults  to  fly 
From  thundci's  violence: 

He  only  can  behold 
With  unaflrightcd  eyes 

The  horrors  of  the  deep 
And  terrors  of  the  skies. 


Tliiis  scorning  all  the  cam 
That  fute  or  fortune  brings, 

Ho  ma][cs  the  hcdteD  his  boolc, 
HU  wi»Jom  hetTCBly  thinpi 

Good  Ifaogghu  his  only  friends, 
His  weahh  a  wdl-spent  ig^ 

The  eanh  hit  wber  inn 
And  quiet  pUgrimge. 


«< 


"niOMAS  CAMPION 


I7tf.  0  come  quickly  ! 

^JEVER  wctther-leatea  sail  more  willing  bent  to  shore, 
^^   Never  tiiM  pilgrim's  limbs  adected  slomber  more, 
Thia   my  wmied    sprite    now  longs    to    Ay  out    of  my 

troubled  breast; 
O  come  quickly,  sweetest  Lord,  and  take  my  soul  to  rest] 

EfB  blooRung  arc  tbe  joys  of  heaTcn's  high  Paradise, 
Cold  ^e  dcafs  not  there  our  ears  nor  vapour  dims  our  eyes ; 
Glory  there  the  sun  outahines;    whose  beams  the  BtesskE 

only  see: 
0  cone  quickly,  {^orions  Loid,  and  raise  my  sprite  to  Thee  I 


JOHN  REYNOLDS 
177.  A  Noseg^jf 


SAY,  crimson  Rose  and  dainty  Daffodil, 
With  Violet  blue; 
Since  yon  have  seen  the  beauty  of  my  saint, 

And  eke  her  view; 
Did  not  her  sight  (fair  sight!)  you  lonely  (ill. 

With  sweet  delight 
Of  goddess'  grace  and  angels'  sacred  teint 
In  fine,  most  bright? 

Say,  golden  Primrose,  sanguine  Cowslip  fair. 
With  Pink  most  fine; 

Since  yoB  beheld  the  visage  of  my  dear. 
And  eyes  divine; 

177.  tdat]tlnl,ltM^ 


letbCenl. 


JOHN  REYNOLDS 

l>id  not  her  floby  trout,  nnd  gibtrring  hair, 

With  cl>c«ks  most  sweet. 
So  gloriously  like  (bmasl:  flowers  appear, 

The  gods  to  giwt? 

S»y,  aaow-vhiit  Lily,  speckled  GiUyQowcr, 

With  Diisy  gayj 
Since  you  htvr  viewed  the  Queen  of  my  dcMre, 

In  her  array; 
Did  not  her  ivory  pap^  (air  Veoux'  bower, 

With  heavenly  glee, 
A  Juno's  grace,  conjure  you  to  re<|mrc 

He/  face  K>  see? 

S»y  Rose,  »y  Daffodil,  and  Violet  blue, 

With  Piiinrosc  fair. 
Since  yc  have  seen  my  nymph's  svfccl  dainty  face 

And  geswrc  rare, 
I^d  not  (bright  Cowslip,  blooming  Piak)  her  titw 

(Wlute  Lily)  shine— 
(Ab,  Gillyflower,  ah  Daisy  I)  triih  a  grace 

Like  stars  dit-ine? 


SIR  HENRY  WOTTON 

17*,  Elizabeth  of  Bobftnh 

I 
VOU  meaner  beauties  of  the  ntglit, 
■^      That  poorly  satisfy  our  eyes 
Kfore  by  your  number  than  your  li^it, 
You  common  people  of  the  skics: 
What  are  you  when  the  moon  shaU  rise? 


SIR  HENRT  WOTTON 

Yoo  corioas  chanters  of  the  wood, 

That  warble  forth  Dame  Nature's  lays, 

Thinkiog  your  passions  understood 

By  your  weak  accents;    what's  your  praise 
When  Philomel  her  voice  shall  raise? 

You  violets  that  first  appear. 

By  yow  ptm  purple  mautles  known 

Like  the  proud  virgins  of  the  year, 
As  if  die  spring  were  all  your  own  j 
What  are  you  when  the  rose  is  blown  t 

So,  wbfta  my  mistress  shall  be  seen 
In  fbmi  and  beauty  of  her  mind. 

By  virtue  first,  then  choice,  a  Queen, 
Tell  roe,  if  she  were  not  design'd 
Th'  eclipse  and  glory  of  her  kind. 


179.  The  Character  of  a  Happy  Life 

LJOW  happy  is  he  bom  and  taught 
**     That  serreth  not  another's  willj 
Whose  armour  is  his  honest  thought. 
And  sirople  tnith  his  utmost  skill! 

Whose  passions  not  his  masters  are; 
Whose  sod  is  still  prepared  for  death, 
Untied  unto  the  world  by  care 
Of  public  fame  or  private  breath ; 

Who  envies  none  that  chance  doth  raise, 
Nor  rice ;    who  never  understood 
How  deepen  wounds  are  given  by  praise; 
Not  nles  of  state,  but  rules  of  good ; 


SIR  HENRV  worroN 

Who  hath  his  lift  From  nunoure  fired  | 
WhoK  coiucience  is  liii  strong  ittieui 
Whose  stite  can  neither  Outterers  feed, 
Nor  ruin  nuke  opprrtson  great; 

Who  God  doth  late  nd  early  pny 
More  of  His  grace  than  gifu  to  lendi 
And  emertains  the  haimlen  day 
With  a  religious  book  or  friend ; 

— Thb  man  is  frwd  from  sertile  baods 
Of  hope  to  rtw  or  fear  to  f«ll : 
Lord  of  himself,  though  not  of  lafld\ 
And  having  nothing,  yet  hath  oU. 


180.     (/pM  the  2)eafJ>  of  Sir  yf/krt 
Morton's  IFife 

LJ  E  fim  deceased ;  she  foe  >  little  tried 

^  *•     To  liK  wiUioiu  him,  liked  ii  not,  asd  died. 


SIR  JOHN  DA  VIES 


T   KNOW  my  said  bath  jxnw  to  know  all  thing 
^     Yet  she  is  Uind  and  ^norani  to  all: 
I  know  I'm  one  of  Nature's  little  kiagS) 
Yet  to  the  leut  and  niest  things  am  thiaU, 


SIR  JOHN  DAVIES 

I  know  my  fife 's  I  pun  utd  but  ■  span ; 
I  know  Taj  aente  is  mock'd  is  ercrythingt 
And,  to  conclude,  I  know  mysdf  a  Man — 
Wbidi  is  a  proud  and  yet  a  wretched  thing. 


SIR  ROBERT   AYTON 

itj.      To  His  Forsaken  Mistress 

T  DO  confesi  thou'n  smooth  and  fair, 

^     And  I  might  have  gone  near  to  love  thee. 

Had  I  not  found  the  slightest  prayer 

That  lips  could  more,  had  power  to  move  thee; 
But  I  can  let  thee  now  alone 
As  woithy  to  be  loved  by  none. 

I  do  confess  thon'rt  sweet;   yet  find 
Thee  such  an  unthrift  of  thy  sweets, 

Thy  fannirs  are  but  like  the  wind 
That  kisseth  everything  it  meets : 

And  snce  thou  canst  with  more  than  one, 

Tbou'rt  worthy  to  be  kiss'd  by  none. 

The  morning  rose  that  untouch'd  stands 

Ann'd  with  her  briers,  how  sweet  she  smells  1 

Bat  plnck'd  and  strain'd  through  ruder  hands, 
Her  sweets  no  longer  with  her  dwells ; 

But  scent  and  beauty  both  are  gone. 

And  leaves  fall  from  her,  one  by  one. 

Such  fate  ere  long  will  thee  betide 
When  thou  hast  handled  been  awhile, 

"3 


SIR  ROBERT  AYTON 

With  sere  dowers  to  be  thrown  ande; 

And  I  shall  sigh,  while  some  will  smiley 
To  see  thy  Io*e  to  every  one 
Hath  brought  thee  to  be  loved  b;  oonc 


1S3.  To  an  Inconstant  One 

T   LOVED  thee  once;    I'll  love  no  moi 

^     Thine  be  the  grief  as  is  the  blame  j 

Thou  art  not  what  thou  wast  before, 

What  reason  I  should  be  the  same? 

He  that  can  love  unloved  again, 

Haih  better  store  of  love  than  bi^; 

God  send  me  love  my  debts  to  pay, 

While  unthrifts  fool  their  love  away  I 

Nothing  could  have  my  love  o'erthrowo 
If  thou  hadst  still  contioued  mine; 

Yea,  if  thou  hadsl  rcmain'd  thy  own. 


SIR  ROBERT  AYTON 

Yet  do  thoa  gioiy  in  ihy  choice — 

Th^  chcHce  of  his  good  fortune  boast  i 
I'll  Dcither  gnere  Dor  yet  rej<Hce 
To  see  iiim  gain  what  I  have  lost ; 
The  bei^t  of  mj  disdain  shall  be 
To  laugh  at  him,  to  blush  for  thee; 
To  love  thee  still,  but  go  no  more 
A-beg^g  at  a  beggar's  door. 


BEN  JONSON 
iS^  Hjrmn  to  2)ian» 

iS7J-"*37 

QUEEN  and  hontress,  chaste  and  fair, 
Now  the  sun  is  laid  to  sleep. 
Seated  in  thy  silver  chair. 
State  in  wonted  manner  keep: 
Hesperus  entreats  thy  light, 
Goddess  excejleatly  bright. 

Earth,  let  not  thy  envious  shade 

Dare  itself  to  interpose; 
Cynthia's  shining  orb  was  made 

Heaven  to  clear  when  day  did  close : 
Bless  us  then  with  wished  sight, 
Goddess  excellently  bright. 

Lay  thy  bow  of  pearl  apart, 

And  thy  crystal-shining  quiver; 
Give  unto  the  flying  hart 

Space  to  breathe,  how  short  soever: 
Thou  that  mak'st  a  day  of  night — 
Goddess  excellently  bright. 

115 


;Jj-. 


BEN  JONSON 
To  Celia 


■pXRINK  to  me  only  urith  dune  eyes, 
'-'     And  I  will  pledge  with  mine: 
Or  leave  a  kiss  but  in  the  cup 

And  111  not  look  for  wine. 
The  ttunt  that  from  the  soul  doth  rise 

Doth  ask  a  drink  diTine; 
But  might  I  of  Jove's  nectar  sup, 

I  would  not  change  for  thine. 

I  sent  thee  late  a  rosy  wreath, 

Not  so  much  honouring  thee 
As  giving  it  a  hope  that  there 

It  could  not  wither'd  be; 
But  thou  thereon  didst  otJy  tveathe, 

And  sent'st  it  back  to  mej 
Since  when  it  grows,  and  smeUs,  I  swear. 

Not  of  itself  but  diee ! 


BEN  JONSON 

187,  The  Shadow 

■pOLLOW  a  shadow,  it  stiU  flies  youj 
^       Seem  to  fly  it,  it  will  pursue: 
So  court  a  mistress,  she  denies  yoa ; 
Let  her  iloiie,  she  will  court  you. 
Say,  are  not  womeo  truly,  then, 
Styled  but  the  shadows  of  us  men  \ 

At  mora  and  even,  shades  are  longest) 
At  nooD  they  are  or  short  or  none: 
So  men  at  weakest,  they  are  strongest, 
But  grant  us  perfect,  they're  not  known. 
Say,  are  not  women  truly,  then. 
Styled  but  the  shadows  of  us  men  \ 

iSS.  The  Triumph 

CEE  the  Chariot  at  hand  here  of  Love, 

'-'     Wherein  my  Lady  rideth  I 

Each  that  draws  b  a  swan  or  a  dove, 

And  well  the  car  Lore  guideth. 
As  ihe  goes,  all  hearts  do  duty 

Unto  her  beauty  j 
And  enamour'd  do  wish,  so  they  might 

But  enjoy  such  a  sght, 
That  they  still  were  to  run  by  her  side. 
Through  swords,  through  seas,  whither  she  would  ride. 

Do  but  look  OD  her  eyes,  they  do  light 

All  that  Lore's  world  compriseth  I 
Do  bat  look  on  her  hair,  it  is  bright 

As  Lore's  star  when  it  riseth  I 


BEN  JONSON 

Do  but  mark,  her  forehead's  smoother 

Than  words  that  soothe  her; 

And  from  her  arch'd  brows  such  a  grace 
Sheds  itself  through  the  face, 

As  alone  there  triumphs  to  the  life 

All  the  gain,  all  the  good,  of  the  elements'  strife. 

Have  you  seeo  but  a  bright  lily  grow 

Before  nide  hands  have  touch'd  it? 
Have  you  mark'd  but  the  fall  of  the  snov 

Before  the  schI  hath  smutch'd  Iti 
Have  you  felt  the  wool  of  beaver, 
Or  swaD's  down  ever  ? 
Or  have  smelt  o'  the  bud  o'  the  brier, 

Or  the  oard  m  the  fire? 
Or  have  tasted  the  hag  of  the  bee? 
O  so  white,  O  so  soft,  O  so  sweet  is  she  I 


l8p. 


j4ff  Elegy 


BEN  JONSON 

But  who  should  less  expect  from  you? 

In  whom  alone  Love  lires  again: 

By  whom  he  is  restored  to  men, 
And  kept  and  tvcd  and  brought  up  tme. 

His  falling  temples  you  bare  reai'd, 

The  irither'd  garlands  ta'en  away; 

His  altais  kept  from  that  decay 
That  envy  wish'd,  and  nature  feai'd: 

And  on  them  burn  so  chaste  a  flame, 
With  so  much  loyalty's  expense. 
As  Lon  to  ac(]uit  such  excellence 

Is  gone  himself  into  youi  name. 

And  yon  are  be — the  deity 

To  whom  all  lorers  are  design'd 
That  would  their  better  objects  findi 

Among  iriiich  faithAd  troop  am  I — 

Who  as  an  ofTring  at  your  shrine 

Have  sung  this  hymn,  and  here  entreat 
One  spark  of  your  diviner  heat 

To  light  upon  a  lore  of  mine. 

Which  if  it  kindle  not,  but  scant 
Appear,  and  that  to  shortest  view) 
Yet  give  me  leave  to  adore  in  you 

What  I  in  her  am  grieved  to  want ! 

Ipo.       A  Farewell  to  the  fVorld 

X^KLSE  world,  good  night  I  ^ce  thou  hast  brought 
''         That  hour  upon  my  morn  of  age ; 
Henceforth  I  quit  thee  from  my  thought, 
My  part  is  ended  on  thy  stage. 

«9 


BEN  JONSON 

Yes,  threaten,  do.     Aiul    I  far 
As  little  as  I  hope  from  thee ; 

I  know  thou  canst  not  show  dot  bear 
More  hatred  than  thou  hast  to  me. 

My  tender,  first,  and  simple  years 
Thou  didst  abuse  and  then  betray} 

Since  stir'd'st  up  jealouNes  and  fears, 
When  all  the  causes  were  away. 

Then  in  a  soil  hast  planted  me 

Where  breathe  the  basest  of  thy  fi>ols  t 
Where  envious  arts  profess^  be, 

And  pride  and  ignorance  the  schools; 

Where  nothing  is  examined,  weigh'd. 
But  as  'tis  rumour'd,  so  believed; 

Where  e»ery  freedom  is  betrayed, 

And  every  goodness  tax'd  or  grieved. 


BEN  JONSON 

Nor  for  my  peace  will  I  go  far, 

As  wanderers  do,  that  still  do  roam; 

But  make  my  strengths,  such  as  they  aie, 
Here  in  my  bosom,  and  at  home. 


ipi.  The  Noble  Balm 

LJ IGH-SPIRITED  fnend, 

I  xai  nor  balms  nor  cor'siTes  to  your  wound : 

Your  iate  hath  found 
A  gentler  and  more  agile  hand  to  tend 
The  cure  of  that  which  b  but  corporal ; 
And  doubtful  days,  which  were  named  critical. 

Have  made  their  fairest  Sight 

And  DOW  are  out  of  sight. 
Yet  doth  some  wholesome  physic  for  the  mind 

Wrapp'd  in  this  paper  lie, 
Which  m  the  taking  if  you  misapply, 

Yon  are  unkind. 

Yonr  coTctous  hand, 
Happy  in  that  fair  honour  it  hath  gain'd. 

Must  now  be  rein'd. 
True  Talour  doth  her  own  renown  command 
In  one  (iill  action ;    nor  have  you  now  more 
To  do,   than  be  a  husband  of  that  store. 

Think  but  how  dear  you  bought 

This  fame  which   you  have  caught ; 
Such  thoughts  will  make  you  more  m  love  with  truth. 

'TIS  wisdom,  and  that  high, 
For  men  to  use  their  fortune  reverently, 

Even  in  youth. 


BEN  JONSON 


Epitaphs 


tp2.  On  Elizabeth  L,  H. 

WrOULDST  thou  hear  what  Man  can  say 

'^     In  a  little?    Reader,  soy. 
Underneath  this  stone  doth  Iw 
As  much  Bnuty  as  could  die: 
Which  in  life  did  hartmur  ^re 
To  more  Vittue  than  doth  lire. 
If  at  all  she  had  a  fauh, 
LeaTe  it  buried  in  this  TSnlt. 
One  name  was  ESxabetb, 
The  other,  let  it  sleep  with  death: 
Fitter,  where  it  died,  to  tell 
Than  that  it  lired  at  all.     Fainrell. 


BEN  JONSON 

And  did  act  (what  now  we  mou) 

Old  men  so  duly, 
As  sooth  the  Parcae  thought  him  ooe, 

He  pla/d  so  tnily. 
So,  hy  error,  to  his  fate 

They  all  consented; 
But,  TiewiDg  him  snce,  aJas,  too  late  I 

They  hare  repented ; 
And  have  sought,  to  ^ve  new  hirth, 

Id  baths  to  steep  him; 
But,  herag  so  much  too  good  for  earth, 

Heaven  vows  to  keep  him. 


lp4.  A  Tart  of  an  Ode 

to  tie  JmmorlaJ  Memory  md  Fnendiiif  tf  that  inble  pair^ 
Sir  JLueiiu  Cory  and  Sir  H.  Moriton, 

TT  is  not  growing  tilte  a  tree 

^     In  bulk,  doth  make  man  better  be; 
Or  standing  long  an  oak,  three  hundred  year, 
To  fall  a  log  at  last,  diy,  bald,  and  sere: 
A  lily  of  a  day 
Is  fairer  far  in  May, 

Although  it  fall  and  die  that  night; 

It  was  the  plant  and  flower  of  light. 
In  small  proportions  we  just  beauties  see; 
And  in  ^ort  measures,  life  may  perfect  be. 

Call,  noble  Luc'au,  then  for  wine. 
And  let  thy  looks  with  gladness  shine  i 
Accept  this  garland,  plant  it  on  thy  head, 
Aad  think — nay,  know— thy  Moritaa's  not  dead. 

"I 


He  leap'd  the  present  age, 
Possest  with  holy   rage 
To  see  that  bright  eternal  Day 
Of  which  we  Priests  and  Poets  say 
Such  trutlis  as  we  expect  for  liappy  men ; 
And  there  he  Jives  with  memory — and  Bn 


Jonion 


Or  ta: 


U 
V 


Were 


1  joy  he  meaot 

t 

sm 

I  ship's  schism — 

with  U3  to  tarry — 
»  iwy 

iSCUlj, 

And  k<  om  his  Harry. 

But  fate  doth  so  alternate  the  design, 

Whilst  that  in  HeaT'o,  this  light  oa  earth  must  shine. 

And  shine  as  you  exalted  are! 

Two  names  of  friendship,  but  one  star : 
Of  hearts  the  union :   and  those  not  by  chance 
Made,   or  indenture,  or  leased  out  to  advance 
The  profits  for  a  time. 
No  pleasures  vain  did  chime 

Of  rimes  or  riots  at  your  feasts. 

Orgies  of  drink  or  feign'd  protests ; 
But  simple  love  of  greatness  and  of  good, 
That  knits  brare  minds  and  manners  more  than  blood. 


This  made  you  first  to  know  the  Why 
Tau  fiied,  then  alter,  to  apply 


BEN  JONSON 

That  liking,  and  approach  so  one  the  t'other 
Till  either  grew  a  ponioa  of  the  other: 
Each  styled  by  his  end 
The  copy  of  his  friend. 
You  lived  to  be  the  great  surnames 
And  titles  by  which  all  made  claims 
Unto  the  Virtue — oothiog  perfect  done 
But  as  a  CjIRT  or  a  MORISON. 

And  such  the  force  the  fair  example  had 

As  they  that  saw 
The  good,  and  durst  not  practise  it,  were  glad 
That  such  a  law 
Was  left  yet  to  manluDd, 
Where  they  might  read  and  find 
Friendship  indeed  was  written,  not  in  words, 
And  with  the  heart,  not  pea. 
Of  two  so  early  men, 
Whose  lines  her  rates  were  and  records: 
Who,  ere  the  first  down  bloomM  on  the  chin, 
Had  sow'd  these  fruits,  >nd  got  the  harvest  in. 


JOHN  DONNE 


•B73->*Si 


CTAY,  O  sweet,  and  do  not  riset 
'^     The  light  that  shines  comes  from  thine  eyes; 
The  day  breaks  not:   it  is  my  heart. 
Because  that  you  and  I  must  pait, 
Stayl    or  else  my  joys  will  die 
And  perish  in  their  infancy. 

1  uf 


ip6. 


GO  and  catch  a  falling  star. 
Get  with  child  a  mandrake  rout, 
Tell  me  where  all  past  years  are, 
*""■*"    ■      Devil's  foot; 

lermaids  singiog, 
(  's  stinging, 


honest  mind. 

strange  sights, 
)  see, 

ays  and  Dights 
liii  n.ge  sno*      iitp  hairs  on  tht*; 
Thou,  when  thou  retum'st,  wilt  tell  me 
All  strange  wonders  that  befell  thee, 
And  swear 
No  where 
Lives  a  woman  true  and  fair. 

If  thou  find'st  one,  let  me  know  g 

Such  a  pilgrimage  were  sweet. 
Yet  do  not;    I  would  not  go, 

Though  at  next  door  we  might  meet. 
Though  she  were  true  when  you  met  her, 
And  last  till  you  write  your  letter, 
Yet  she 
Will  be 
False,  ere  I  come,  to  two  or  three. 


■16 


JOHN  DONNB 


Ip7. 

That  Time  mJ  jihiaies  prove* 
Rathtr  btlp4  liam  burl*  to  lovtt 

ABSENCE,  bear  thou  my  protestatioa 
■'^     AgUDSt  thy  strength, 

Discaoce  and  length: 
Do  what  thou  canst  for  alteiadoo. 

For  hearts  of  tiuest  mettle 

Absence  doth  join  and  Time  doth  settle^ 

Who  loves  a  mistress  of  such  quality, 

His  mind  hath  found 

Affecdoa'a  ground 
Beyond  time,  place,  and  all  mortality. 

To  hearts  that  cannot  vary 

Absence  u  present,  Time  doth  tarry. 

My  senses  want  their  outward  motion 

Which  now  within 

Reason  doth  win. 
Redoubled  by  her  secret  notion  i 

Like  rich  men  that  take  pleasure 

In  hiding  more  than  handling  treasure. 

By  Absence  this  good  means  I  gun. 

That  I  can  catch  her 

Where  noue  can  watch  her, 
In  some  close  comer  of  my  brain: 

There  I  embrace  and  kiss  her, 

And  so  enjoy  her  and  none  miss  her. 


m 


198. 


WTHERE,  like  a  pillow  on  a  W, 

A  pregnant  bnnk  swell'd  up,   10 
The  violet's  reclining  head. 

Sat  we  two,  one  anotber's  best. 


Our  •— '- 

3 
Or 

So 

Anr 
1 


Cemented 
h  thence  did  spring  i 

and  did  thread 
double  string. 

s,  as  yet 

o  make  us  out!  i 

es  to  get 

[ion. 


As  rmies  Fate 

Suspends  uncertain   .ictory, 
Our  souls — which  to  advance  thor  state 
Were  gone  out — hung  'twixt  her  and  me. 

And  whilst  our  souls  negotiate  there, 
We  like  sepulchral  statues  lay ; 

All  day  the  same  our  postures  were. 
And  we  said  nothing,  all  tlie  day. 


lp$.  The  Dream 

■r\EAR  lore,  for  nothing  less  than  thee 
^     Would  I  have  broke  this  happy  dream  i 

It  was  a  theme 
For  reason,  much  too  strong  for  fantasy. 
Therefore  thou  waked'st  me  wisely ;  yet 
My  dream  thou  brok'st  not,  but  coatinued'st  it. 


JOHN  DONNE 

Thoo  art  so  tne  that  thoughts  of  thee  snJfice 
To  make  dreams  truths  and  fables  histories ; 
Enter  these  anns,  for  since  thou  thought'st  it  best 
Not  to  dream  all  my  dream,  let 'a  aa  the  rest. 

As  lightning,  or  a  taper's  lights 

Thiae  eyes,  and  not  thy  noise,  waked  mej 

Yet  I  thought  thee — 
For  thou  lov'si  truth — an  angel,  at  first  sight| 
But  when  I  saw  thou  saw'st  my  heart, 
And  knew'st  my  thoughts  beyond  an  angel's  art, 
VHieo  thon  knew'st  what  I  dreamt,  when  thou  knew'st  when 
Excess  of  joy  would  wake  roe,  and  cam'st  then, 
I  must  confess  it  could  not  choose  but  be 
Profane  to  think  thee  anything  but  thee. 

Coming  and  staying  show'd  thee  thee, 
But  rising  makes  me  doubt  that  now 

Thou  art  not  thou. 
That  Love  is  weak  where  Fear's  as  strong  as  hej 
Tis  not  all  sjMrit  pure  and  brave 
If  mixture  it  of  Fear,  Shame,  Honour  have. 
Perchance  as  torches,  which  must  ready  be, 
Men  light  and  put  out,  so  thou  deal'si  with  me. 
Thou  cam'st  to  kindle,  go'st  to  come:   then  I 
Will  dream  that  hope  again,  bat  else  would  die. 


200.  Tie  Funeral 

VV/HOEVER  comes  to  shroud  me,  do  not  harm 

**  Nor  question  much 

That  subtle  wreath  of  hair  about  mine  arm; 
The  mystery,  the  sign  you  must  not  touch, 


JOHN  DONNE 

Pot  'tis  my  outward  soul, 
Viceroy  to  that  which,  unto  heav'o  being  gone, 

Will  lease  this  to  control 
And  k-ecp  diesc  limbs,  her  proTiDces,  from  dissoludun. 

For  if  the  ^ewjr  thread  my  brain  lets  fall 

Cao  tie  tho  me  one  of  all ; 

Those  hairs  iw,  and  strength  and  an 

H;  b. 


Can  better 
By 
As  prisoner 


leant  that  I 

ly  pain, 

'hen  they're  condemn'd  to  ( 


Whate'er  she  it  with  me, 

For  siutu  X  ».. 
Love's  martyr,  it  might  breed  idolatry 
If  into  other  hands  these  reliques  come. 

As  'twas  humility 
T'  afford  to  it  all  that  a  soul  can  do. 

So  'tis  some  bravery 
That,  since  you  would  have  none  of  me,  I  bury  some  of  you. 


201.     A  Hymn  to  God  the  Father 

VW'ILT  Thou  forgive  that  sin  where  I  beguo. 

Which  was  my  sin,  though  it  were  done  before? 
Wilt  Thou  forgive  that  sin  through  which  I  run. 

And  do  rvn  stiil,  though  still  I  do  deplore  \ 
When  Thou  fiast  done,  "Thou  hast  not  donej 
For  I  have  more. 


JOHN  DONNE 

Wilt  Thou  fbrgive  that  ^d  which  I  have  won 
Others  to  sin,  and  made  mf  sins  their  door? 

Wilt  Thou  forgive  that  sin  which  I  did  shun 
A  year  or  two,  but  wallow'd  in  a  score? 

When  Thou  hast  done,  Thou  hast  not  donet 
For  I  have  more. 

I  have  a  sia  of  fear,  that  when  I're  spun 
My  last  thread,  I  diall  perish  on  the  shore; 

But  swear  by  Thyself  thai  at  my  death  Thy  Son 
Shall  shine  as  He  shines  now  and  heretofore  i 

And  having  done  that.  Thou  hast  donej 
I  fear  no  more. 


202.  7>eath 

T^EATH,  be  not  proud,  though  some  have  callM  thee 
^^     Mighty  and  dreadful,  for  thou  art  not  so : 
For  those  whom  thou  think'st  thou  dost  overthrow 
Die  not,  poor  Death ;    nor  yet  canst  thou  kill  me. 
From  Rest  and  Sleep,  which  but  thy  picture  be, 
Much  pleasure,  then  from  thee  much  more  must  flow; 
And  soonest  our  best  men  with  thee  do  go- 
Rest  of  their  bones  and  souls'  delivery ! 
Thou'rt  slave  to  fate,  chance,  kings,  and  desperate  men, 
And  dost  with  poison,  war,  and  sickness  dwell ; 
And  poppy  or  charms  can  make  us  sleep  as  well 
And  better  than  thy  stroke.     Why  sweli'st  thou  then? 

One  short  sleep  past,  we  wake  eternally, 

And  Death  shall  be  no  more:    Death,  thou  shalt  diet 


■Ji 


RICHARD  BARNEFIELD 

20S.  Philomel 

KS  it  Fell  upon  a  da^ 
■'*■     In  the  merry  monch  of  May, 
Sitd  hade 

V  rtlcs  made, 

%  irds  did  sing, 

*3  ilants  did  spring  i 

1:  moan 

SiVk.  done : 

She,  fofiom 

Leaii  u  iier  brea<  ill  a  thorn. 

And  there  sung  olefiill'sl  dilty, 

That  to  hear  it  was  great  pity. 
P'^t  J'')  J'^  -     ooiv  would  she  cryj 
Tereu,  Tereu  !    by  and  by ; 
That  to  hear  her  so  complain 
Scarce  I  could  from  tears  refrain ; 
For  her  griefs  so  lively  shown 
Made  me  think  upon  mine  own. 
Ah  1   thought  I,  thou  mourn'st  in  vain. 
None  takes  pity  on  thy  pin : 
Senseless  trees  they  cannot  hear  thee, 
Ruthless  beasts  they  will  not  cheer  thee: 
King  Paodion  he  is  dead, 
All  thy  friends  are  lapp'd  in  leadt 
Ail  thy  fellow  birds  do  sing 
Careless  of  thy  sorrowing ; 
Even  so,  poor  bird,  like  thee, 
None  alive  will  pity  me. 


"*• 


■S74"«*T 


THOMAS  DEKKER 

204.  Suicet  Content 

K^T  tbou  i>oor,  yet  hut  ihou  soMni  ■loi&bere  i 
**  O  Kwwt  contratl 

Art  ibou  rich,  yet  is  thjr  mind  pcqJcx'd? 

0  puaisluiKTit ! 
Dost  tbou  Iau^  to  tet  Iww  fools  ire  *nc'd 
To  add  to  gtjdcn  Dutnbcrs  goldea  uuBbera  i 

O  sweet  ooatcnti    O  sweet,  O  sweet  content  I 
Work  *I>ace,  •jxtcc,  apace,  apace  t 
HtMai  bbour  boHS  \  VrnAy  hsxi 
Then  bey  nomiy  DOanif— -hey  ouony  nonny! 

CnK  dxinJt  the  waters  of  tbc  crii]4d  ^riog  f 

O  s««et  content  I 
Swini'M  then  la  wealth,  yet  aink'st  la  thtnc  uwd  tean^ 

O  ininuhnieBtl 
Tlica  be  (hit  pubnly  want's  burdeii  burs, 
No  bttnkn  bean,  bat  is  a  king,  a  kiogl 

O  sweet  content  i    O  nweet,  0  sweet  cootemt 
Work  ipoce,  Bi>ace,  aincv,  apace  t 
Hoots  Uboui  bcaia  a  lordjr  lace ; 
Tbca  bey  noany  aoony — b^  iwnny  notiny! 


THOMAS  HETWOOD 


r.  Malm  Sang 

DACK,  clouds,  avayt    and  wclconie^  doyl 
^       With  night  we  banish  sorrow. 
S«-ect  tit,  blow  soit;   moont,  bu^  akift 
To  give  my  LoTe  good-roonow  I 


THOMAS  HEYWOOD 

Wings  from  the  wind  to  please  her  nuod. 

Notes  from  the  lark  I'U  borrow; 
Bird,  prune  thy  wing !    oighdagale,  sing  I 
To  give  my  Love  good-moirow ! 

To  give  my  Lore  good-morrow 
Notes  from  them  all  I'll  borrow. 

Wake  from  thy  nest,  robin  red-breast! 

Sing,  birds,  in  every  furrow ! 
And  from  each  Hll  let  music  sbriU 

Give  my  fair  Love  good-morrow  I 
Blackbird  aod  thrash  id  eveiy  bush, 

Stare,  liDciet,  aiid  cocksparrow, 
You  pretty  elves,  amoug  yourselves 

Sing  my  fair  Love  good-morrow ! 

To  give  my  Low  good-morrow  1 
Sing,  birds,  in  every  furrow  1 


206. 


The  Messa^ 


THOMAS  HEYWOOD 

Go,  pRtty  Urds,  and  tell  her  bo, 
See  that  your  doKs  strain  not  too  low, 
For  stiU  methiaks  I  see  her  frown; 
Ye  pretty  wantons,  warble. 

Go  tune  your  voices'  harmony 

And  sing,  I  am  her  lover; 
Strain  loud  and  sweet,  that  every  note 

With  sweet  content  may  mcme  her: 

And  she  that  hath  the  sweetest  voice, 

Tell  her  I  will  not  change  my  choice: 

—Yet  still  methinks  I  see  her  frown  I 

Ye  pretty  wantons,  warble. 

O  fly  t    make  haste  1   see,  see,  she  ialls 

Into  a  pretty  slumber ! 
Sing  round  ^ut  her  rosy  bed 

That  wakiog  she  may  winder: 
Say  to  her,  'tis  her  lover  true 
That  sendeth  love  to  you,  to  you  I 
And  when  you  hear  her  kind  reply. 
Return  with  pleasant  warbliogs. 


JOHN  FLETCHER 

207,  Sleep 

/"^OME,  Sleep,  and  with  thy  sweet  deceiving 
^^     Lock  me  in  delight  awhile; 
Let  some  pleasing  dreams  beguile 
All  my  fancies;  that  from  thence 
I  may  feel  an  influence 
All  my  powers  of  care  bereaving  I 

■IS 


JOHN  FLETCHER 

Though  but  a  ihadow,  but  a  sliding, 
Let  roe  know  some  little  joy  1 
We  that  sutler  long  innoy 
Are  contented  with  a  thought 
Through  an  idle  fancy  wrought : 

O  let  my  joys  have  some  abiding  I 

2oS.  Bridal  Song 

CYNTHIA,  to  thy  power  and  thee 
We  obey. 
Joy  to  this  great  company! 

And  no  day 
Come  to  BCeal  this  night  away 

Till  the  rites  of  love  are  ended, 
And  the  lusty  bridegroom  say, 
Welcome,  light,  of  all  befriended ! 

Pace  out,  you  watery  powet?  below; 

Let  your  feet, 


JOHN  FLETCHER 

My  love  was  false,  bat  I  was  fina 

Fraia  my  hour  of  birth. 
UpoD  my  buried  body  lie 

Lightly,  gentle  earth! 

210.  Hymn  to  Tan 

CING  bis  pruses  that  doth  keep 
^     Our  flocks  from  harm, 
Pan,  the  father  of  our  sheep  { 

And  arm  in  aim 
Tread  we  softly  in  a  round. 
Whilst  the  hollow  DnghboonDg  ground 
Fills  the  music  with  her  sound. 

Pan,  O  great  god  Pan,  to  thee 

Thus  do  we  sing ! 
Thou  who  keep'st  us  chaste  and  free 

As  the  young  spring : 
Ever  be  thy  honour  spoke 
From  that  place  the  mom  is  broke 
To  that  place  day  doth  unyoke  1 

2u.  Avaay^  Delights! 

yWAY,  delights!    go  seek  some  other  dwelling, 
^*-  For  I  must  die. 

Farewell,  false  love !    thy  tongue  is  ever  telling 

Lie  after  lie. 
For  ever  let  me  rest  now  from  thy  smarts; 
Alas,  for  pity  go 
And  fire  their  hearts 
That  hare  been  hard  to  thee!     Mine  was  not  so. 

■37 


JOHN  FLETCHER 

NcTcr  again  dclwidlng  love  tfaAlI  know  me, 

For  I  will  diet 
And  all  tliOK  griefs  Uut  thiak  to  orcrgrow  me 

Hhill  be  ul: 
For  tra  will  I  sleep,  wliile  poor  maids  crv— 

'Alas,  for  piijr  suy. 

And  let  us  die 
Witli  thee  I     Men  cannot  raock  as  in  the  ch;.* 


212.  Lnve's  Emblems 

^OW  the  lusty  spring  b  )t*enj 
^  ~      Golden  yellow,  gaudy  blue, 

Daintily  intite  the  view  t 
E»erywliere  oo  every  green 
Roses  hlusKini;  as  they  Uow, 

And  enticing  men  to  pull, 
Lilies  whiter  than  the  snow, 

Woodbines  of  sweet  honey  full : 
All  love's  enihlcms,  and  all  cry, 
'  Ladies,  if  not  pluck'd,  we  die.* 

Yet  tlie  lusty  spring  hath  suy'dt 

Blushiag  red  and  purest  white 

Daintily  to  love  invite 
Every  woman,  every  maid ; 
Clicrries  kJMJng  as  they  grow, 

And  inviting  men  to  taste, 
Apples  eren  ripe  below. 

Winding  geotJy  to  the  waist: 
Alt  lore's  emblems,  and  all  cry, 
*  L«dics,  if  not  pluck'd,  we  d*c/ 


JOHN  FLETCHER 

21$,  //ear,  ye  ImUcs 

I_JEAR,  ye  ladies  that  despise 

^^     What  the  mighty  Love  has  dosej 

Fear  examples  aad  be  wise: 

Fair  CaUisto  was  a  dudj 
Leda,  sailing  od  the  stream 

To  deceive  the  hopes  of  nun. 
Love  accounUng  but  a  dream, 

Doted  on  a  ^ter  swan; 
Danae,  in  a  bruen  tower. 
Where  no  love  was,  loved  ■  shower. 

Hear,  ye  ladies  that  are  coy. 

What  the  mighty  Love  can  doj 
Fear  the  fierceness  of  the  boyi 

The  chaste  Mood  he  makes  to  woO) 
Vesta,  kindling  holy  fiies, 

Circled  round  about  with  Sfnes, 
Never  dreaming  loose  desires, 

Doting  at  the  altar  dies; 

Ilion,  in  a  short  hour,  higher 
He  can  build,  and  once  more  fire. 

214.  God  Lyaeus 

/■""OD  Lyaeus,  ever  yonng, 
^^  Ever  honoor'd,  ever  sung, 
Stain'd  with  blood  of  lusty  grapes, 
In  a  thousand  lusty  shapes 
Dance  upon  the  mazer's  brim, 
In  the  crimson  liquor  swim; 

at^.  niBwr]  ■  bowl  of  tuple-wood. 


JOHN  FLETCHER. 

From  thjr  pleotNut  hand  (Criae 
Let  a  river  run  with  «-in«: 
God  of  foutli,  1m  this  cUy  here 
Eotcr  neitbec  cm  not  feu. 


B' 


2if,  Beauty  Char  and  Fair 

'EAUTY  dear  and  fair, 
Wl>ctc  the  air 

Rathfrr  like  a  pctfiiine  dwclts; 
Where  the  I'vaUx.  and  the  rax 
Theii  blue  veins  and  blusli  disclMe, 

And  come  lo  honour  nothing  else  t 

WIiCTC  to  live  n«r 
And  planted  there 
Is  u  live,  and  still  live  ncwi 
Where  lo  gala  a  favour  is 
More  than  light,  |>crpctujl  bliss — 
Make  me  live  by  serving  you  I 

Pear,  agnh)  hack  recall 
To  this  light, 

A  sinngcr  to  bimsrlf  and  all  I 
Both  the  wonder  and  ilie  story 
Shall  be  youn,  snd  eke  die  glory; 

I  am  your  servant,  and  your  ttiralL 

2iff.  Melanchoif 

I_|ENCE,  all  you  vain  deljghca, 

*  '     As  sliott  as  are  the  n»ghl« 

Wliemn  you  npend  your  fbtly  I 

There's  naught  in  this  hie  sweet. 


JOHN  FLETCHER 

If  men  were  wise  to  see 't, 

But  011I7  melancholy — 

O  sweetest  melancholy ! 
Welcome,  folded  aims  and  GxM  eyes, 
A  sight  that  piercing  mortifies, 
A  look  that's  fasten'd  to  the  groimd, 
A  tongue  chain'd  up  without  a  sound  I 

Fountain-heads  and  pathless  groves, 
Places  which  pale  pasaon  loves  1 
Moonlight  walka,  when  all  the  fowls 
Are  wannly  housed,  save  bats  and  owls  I 
A  midnight  bell,  a  parting  groan — 
These  are  the  sounds  we  feed  upon ; 
Then  stretch  our  bones  in  a  still  gloomy  valley, 
Nothing's  90  dainty  sweet  as  loTely  melancholy. 


217*  ff^eep  no  more 

^^EEP  no  more,  nor  agh,  nor  groan, 
**     Som)w  calls  no  time  that's  gones 
Violets  pluck'd,  the  sweetest  rain 
Makes  not  fresh  nor  grow  again. 
Trim  thy  locks,  look  cheerfully; 
Fate's  lUd  ends  eyes  cannot  sec. 
Joy*  as  wingid  dreams  fly  fast, 
Why  should  sadness  longer  last? 
Grief  is  but  a  wound  to  woe; 
Gentlest  &ir,  mourn,  moum  no  moe. 


■»> 


JOHN  WEBSTER 

218.  A  Dim 

('"'ALL  for  the  robin -redbreast  and  the  wren, 

^—*     Since  o*er  shady  groves  they  hover, 

And  with  leaves  and  flowers  do  cover 

The  friendless  bodies  of  usburied  nteiu 

Call  unto  his  funeral  dole 

The  ant,  the  fleld-mouse,  and  die  mole, 

To  rear  htm  hillocks  that  shall  keep  him  wnrni, 

And  (when  gay  tombs  are  robb'd)  sustain  no  harm  ( 

But  keep  the  wolf  far  thence,  that's  foe  to  men, 

For  with  his  nails  he'll  dig  them  up  again. 

2/p.  The  Shnud'mg  of  the  Duchess  of  Mai fi 

IJARKl    Now  everj^mg  is  still, 

''  ^     The  screech-owl  and  the  whistler  shrill, 

Call  upon  our  dame  aloud, 

And  bid  her  cmickly  don  her  shroud  I 


JOHN  WEBSTER 

And — the  foul  fiend  more  to  checks 
A  crucifix  let  bless  your  neck: 
Tis  now  full  tide  'tween  night  and  dayt 
End  your  groan  and  corae  away. 

220.  fanitas  Vanitatum 

A  LL  the  dowers  of  the  spring 
^^     Meet  to  perfume  our  burying  i 
These  have  but  their  growing  prime, 
And  man  does  flourish  but  his  time : 
Survey  our  progress  from  our  birth — 
We  are  set,  we  grow,  we  tom  to  earth. 
Courts  adieu,  and  all  delights, 
All  bewitching  appetites ! 
Sweetest  breath  and  clearest  eye 
Like  perfumes  go  out  and  die; 
And  consequently  this  is  done 
As  shadows  wait  upon  the  sun. 
Vain  the  ambition  of  kings 
Who  seek  by  trophies  and  dead  things 
To  leave  a  living  name  behind, 
And  weave  but  nets  to  catch  the  mtxL 


WILLIAM  ALEXANDER,   EARL  OF 
STIRLING 

221.  Aurora 

i5So?-i&|a 
/^  HAPPY  Tithon !    if  thou  know**!  thy  hap, 
^-^     And  valuest  thy  wealth,  as  I  my  want, 

Then  need'st  thou  not — which  ah !  I  grieve  to  grant — 
Repine  at  Jove,  luU'd  in  his  leman's  lap: 


EARL  OF  STIRLING 

ThK  golden  shower  m  wWch  be  did  rejwM — 

One  dewy  drap  it  stains 

Wliich  thy  Aaron  rain 

Upon  the  runi  plains, 
When  from  thy  bed  the  patiionately  goes. 

Then,  waken'd  with  the  music  of  the  merles, 
She  not  remeraben  Memaon  wlieo  she  moutnat 
That  faithful  Dame  wbieh  b  her  bosom  burns 
From  crystal  oooduits  throws  those  Uqtiid  pearls  i 
Sad  from  thy  sgbt  so  soon  to  be  removed, 
She  u)  her  grief  delates. 
— O  fti-ouc'd  by  the  fates 
Above  ilie  happiest  states, 
Who  art  of  ooe  so  worthy  well-helored  I 


PHINEAS  FLETCHER 

222.  A  Litmy 

DROI*,  drop,  slow  tears, 
Aod  bathe  those  bcwiteoi»  ^ 
WWch  brought  from  Hearea 

The  news  and  Princ«  of  Peace  t 
Cease  not,  wet  eyes, 

His  mercy  to  entmtt 
To  cry  for  Tcngcance 

Sin  doth  never  cease. 
Id  your  deep  floods 

Drown  all  my  Aults  and  fears  t 
Mof  let  Hi«  eye 

See  sin,  but  ihrough  my  \aau 


SIR  JOHN  BEAUMONT 
£2},         Of  it's  Sear  Son,  Gervase 

Ii8j-i6i7 

r\EAR  Lord,  receive  1117  sod,  whose  winning  lore 
'•^     To  me  wa»  like  a  friendship,  far  above 
7^  course  of  nature  or  his  tender  age; 
Whose  looks  could  all  my  tntter  griefs  assuage  i 
Let  his  pure  soul,  ordain'd  seven  years  to  be 
In  that  frail  body  which  was  part  of  me, 
Keroain  my  pledge  in  Heaven,  as  sent  to  show 
How  to  this  port  at  every  step  I  go. 


WILLIAM  DRUMMOND,  OF  HAWTHORNDEN 

22^  Invocation 

1385-1A19 

pHCEBUS,  arise! 

'''     And  paint  the  sable  slues 
With  azure,  white,   and  red ; 
Rou«e  Memnon's  mother  from  her  Tithon's  bed, 
That  she  thy  career  may  with  roses  spread ; 
The  nightingales  thy  coming  eacb-wbere  sing; 
Make  an  eternal  spring  ! 

Give  life  to  this  dark  world  which  Ueth  dead; 
Spread  forth  thy  golden  hair 
In  larger  locks  than  thou  wast  wont  before, 
And  emperor-like  decore 
With  diadem  of  pearl  thy  temples  fair: 
Chase  hence  the  ugly  night 
Which  serves  but  to  make  dear  thy  glorious  light. 

MS 


WILLIAM  DRUMMONU 


This  b  that  happy  mom, 

Thit  diy,  long  wishid  day 

Of  all  my  life  m  dark 

(If  cruel  sUrs  lutt  Dot  my  ruin  nrocn 

And  flics  not  hope  betray), 

Which,  only  whtK,  dcMms 

A  diunond  for  ercr  sbouM  it  nurki 

This  is  the  mom  should  bring  into  tlus  grore 

My  Love,  to  hear  and  recompeoM  my  love. 

Fair  Kinf;,  who  all  preserm. 

But  ihow  thy  l)Iu«hing  beams, 

And  ihon  two  sweeter  eyes 

Shalt  sec  thtn  ihofc  which  by  Pcaius'  streamB 

Did  once  thy  heart  surprise: 

Nay,  SUDS,  which  sluoe  as  clear 

As  thou  when  two  thou  did  to  Rome  appear. 

Now,  Plon,  deck  thyself  in  fairest  guise  i 

If  that  ye,  winds,  would  hear 

A  wfce  surpwMng  far  Amphion's  lyre, 

Your  Momiy  diiding  stay; 

Let  icphyr  only  breathe 

And  with  her  ctrsses  play, 

Kissing  sosietimes  these  purple  pons  of  dcadb 

The  winds  all  ulent  are ; 

And  Phicbux  in  hi.s  chair 

E^RHllconing  sea  and  air 

Makes  vanbh  every  star: 

Nighi  like  a  dnmkard  Itets 

Beyond  the  hilU  to  shun  his  Ihming  wheels  t 

The  fielda  with  flowera  are  deck'd  in  e»ery  bne, 

The  clouds  bespangle  with  bright  gold  their  Unci 

Herv  is  the  pleaitant  phcc — 

And  e*eryihing,  an  Her,  who  all  should  gncc. 


WILLIAM  DRUMMOND 


T  IKE  the  IdaliaD  queeo, 

^     Her  hair  about  her  eyne, 
With  neck  and  breast's  ripe  apples  to  be  seeo, 

At  first  gUnce  of  the  mom 
la  Cyprus'  gardens  gathering  those  fair  floVra 

Which  of  her  blood  were  bom, 
I  saw,  but  fainting  saw,  my  paramours. 
The  Graces  naked  danced  about  the  place, 

The  winds  and  trees  amazed 

With  silence  on  her  gazed. 
The  flowers  did  smile,  like  those  upon  her  facet 
And  as  their  aspen  stalks  those  fingers  band, 

That  she  might  read  my  case, 
A  hyacinth  I  wish'd  me  in  her  hand. 


226.  Spring  Bereaved  l 

'X'HAT  zephyr  every  year 
-^       So  soon  was  heard  to  ^gh  in  forests  here, 
It  was  for  her :    that  wrapp'd  in  gowns  of  green 

Meads  were  so  early  seen. 
That  in  tlie  saddest  months  oft  sung  the  meries. 
It  was  for  Iter;    for  her  trees  dropp'd  forth  pearls. 

That  proud  and  stately  courts 
Did  envy  diose  our  shades  and  calm  resorts,** 
It  was  for  her;   and  she  is  gone,  O  woe  I 

Woods  cut  a^n  do  grow, 
Bud  doth  the  rose  and  daisy,  winter  done; 
But  we,  once  dead,  no  more  do  see  the  sun. 
»*U  paiMBoanjvnag.  panunou.  baod]  bound. 


Zt7. 


WILLIAM  DRUMMOND 


S^ing  Bereaved  2 


CWEET  Spriog,  ihou  lum'st  with  all  thy  goodljr  tnio, 

"^    Tliy  head  wjdi  flimcs,  ihy  maQtlc  brigln  mtJi  flow'rt : 

The  z«|ihyTS  curl  the  jrcea  locks  of  the  plui^ 

The  clouds  fiH-  joy  ia  |mris  wuep  down  tbtir  ihow'ra. 

Thou  Iuiti'm,  swNt  youth,  but  all  I    my  pIcuHDl  buurs 

And  lu]i|>y  diys  with  tiiee  come  not  ajjain; 

The  ud  mciQorialK  only  of  my  pain 

Do  with  thcc  turn,  which  turn  my  swccis  in  UMtn. 

Thou  ait  tlie  same  wliich  &tJLl  thou  wast  before, 

Delicious,  waatoo,  amiaUc,  fjiir; 

But  she,  whose  breath  cmlxtlni'd  thy  wkolMotoe  air, 

la  gooc — nor  gold  ooi  geins  ber  can  icitorb 

Ne^lwted  tirtuc,  leaaooa  go  and  come, 

While  thine  forgot  lie  dostd  in  a  tomb. 


228. 


Spring  Bereaved  i 


A  LEXIS,  here  she  suy'd ;    among  these  pines, 
■''■     Sweet  hcrmitrcss,  she  did  alone  repair; 
Here  did  she  spread  the  tteanre  of  her  hair, 
More  rich  ihnn  tliat  braughi  from  the  Colchian  mints. , 
She  set  hn  by  these  muskM  cgUntinrs, 
— The  happy  place  tlie  pitnt  seems  yet  to  bear: 
Her  roice  did  sweeten  Itere  thy  sugar'd  lino, 
To  which  winds,  treeis,  beans,  birtb,  did  lend  iheii  ear" 
Me  liere  she  lirs*  perceived,  and  here  a  mom 
Of  bright  carnations  did  o'crq>rrad  her  face ; 
Here  did  she  sigh,  here  first  my  hopes  were  bora. 
And  I  first  gM  a  pledge  of  promised  grace  i 

But  ahl    what  serrcd  it  to  be  lu^py  su? 

Sitb  pssiid  pleastues  double  bat  new  woe  I 


WILLIAM  DRUMMOND 


22p,  Her  Passing 

TTHE  beauty  and  the  life 
-^      Of  life's  and  beauty's  fairest  paragon 
— O  tears !    O  grief  I — hung  at  a  feeble  thread 
To  which  pale  Atropos  had  set  her  knife; 

The  soul  with  many  a  groan 

Had  left  each  outward  part, 
And  now  did  take  his  last  leave  of  the  heart: 
Naught  else  did  want,  save  death,  e/n  to  be  dead; 
When  the  afflicted  hand  about  her  bed. 
Seeing  so  fair  him  come  in  lips,  cheeks,  eyea^ 
Cried,   ^M!  md  eon  Death  enter  Para£tit' 


w 


2}o.  Inexorable 

I Y  thoughts  hold  mortal  strife  | 
I  do  detest  my  life, 
And  with  lamenting  cries 
Peace  to  my  soul  to  bring 
Oft  call  that  prince  which  here  doth  monarchise: 

— But  he,  grim-grinning  King, 
Who  caitiffs  scoms,  and  doth  the  blest  surprise, 
Late  having  deck'd  with  beauty's  rose  his  tomb. 
Disdains  to  crop  a  weed,  and  will  not  come. 


2^1.       Change  should  breed  Change 

'^EW  doth  the  sun  appear, 
^  "      The  mountains'  snows  decay, 
Crown'd  with  frail  flowers  forth  comes  the  baby  year. 
My  loul,  time  posts  away; 


WILLIAM  DRUMMONU 

And  thou  )wt  in  tliat  fmt 

Which  Sower  and  fniit  hMh  Um, 
As  If  all  herv  immorul  were,  dost  suy. 

For  slumc!    ihy  powers  awake, 
Look  to  iliat  Hcai-ca  whidi  never  night  makes  blick, 
And  tlicre  at  ibu  iminoirta]  sun's  bright  rajrs, 
Deck  thee  with  &oven  which  fear  not  rage  of  d«jrs  I 

232.  Saint  yo&tt  Baptist 

"T^HE  I.m  and  greatest  Herald  of  HcaTcn's  King, 
^      Girt  with  loush  skins,  lues  to  the  desens  wild, 
Among  tluit  sivjge  brood  the  woods  forth  bring. 
Which  he  than  roan  mote  hannlcM  found  and  mild. 
His  food  was  locusts,  and  what  young  doth  sprisg 
With  hooey  ihit  from  virgin  hires  lUstill'dt 
Parch'J  body,  hollow  cy«,  some  uncouth  tiling 
Made  him  appear,  long  since  iioro  earth  exiled. 
There  burst  he  ibrth :    *  All  ye,  whose  hopes  [dy 
On  God,  with  me  aoiidsi  these  deserts  numm  j 
Repent,  repent,  and  from  old  errors  turo ! ' 
— \\Tio  lifteo'd  to  hi*  voice,  obcy'd  his  cry? 
Only  the  echoes,  which  he  mndc  rrlcnt, 
Rung  ftom  their  marble  caws  '  Repent !    Repent  I ' 


GILES  FLETCHER 
233.  iVmng  ilwg 

I5S}-I6« 

T  OVE  i*  the  blofoom  where  there  blows 
^     livery  thing  that  Iitc*  or  grows; 
Lore  doih  make  tile  Heav'ns  to  more^ 
And  the  Sun  doth  bum  in  love : 


GILES  FLETCHER 

Love  the  stroog  and  weak  doth  yoke, 
And  makes  che  ivy  climb  the  oak, 
Uoder  whose  shadows  lions  wild, 
Softeu'd  by  love,  grow  tame  and  mild : 
Love  no  med'cioe  can  appease. 
He  burns  the  fishes  in  the  seas : 
Not  all  the  skill  his  wounds  can  stench, 
Not  all  the  sea  his  fire  can  quench. 
Love  did  make  the  bloody  spear 
Once  a  leavy  coat  to  wear, 
While  in  his  leaves  there  shrouded  lay 
Sweet  birds,  for  love  that  sing  and  play 
And  of  all  love's  joyfiJ  flame 
I  the  bud  and  blossom  am. 

Only  bend  thy  knee  to  me. 

Thy  wooing  shall  thy  winning  bel 

See,  see  the  flowers  that  below 
Now  as  fresh  as  morning  blow; 
And  of  all  the  virgin  rose 
That  as  bright  Aurora  shows; 
How  they  all  uoleavM  die, 
Losing  their  virginity  1 
Like  unto  a  summer  shade. 
But  DOW  born,  and  now  they  fade; 
Every  thing  doth  pass  away; 
There  if  danger  in  delay: 
Come,  come,  gather  then  the  roie^ 
Gather  it,  or  it  you  lose  1 
All  the  sand  of  Tagus'  shore 
Into  my  bosom  casts  his  ore: 
All  the  valleys'  swimming  com 
To  my  house  is  yearly  borne; 

•St 


GILES  FLETCHER 

Every  grape  of  crery  rinc 
Is  gUdly  brvifcd  (o  mJilcc  me  vincj 
Whik  t«ii  tboBund  kings,  u  proud. 
To  cury  op  my  Irain  liaiv  bow'd, 
Aod  a  world  of  hdin  srod  mc 
lo  my  cfaambcTs  to  antnd  me: 
All  the  surs  in  Htav'o  tliat  sitise, 
Aoi  (eo  tlious^nd  morr,  are  mioei 
Only  beiKl  thy  knee  to  tat, 
Thy  wooing  shall  thy  winincg  be] 


FRANCIS  BEAUMONT 

2^4-    Off  the  Tombs  in  lycstrniitsteT  ylbbe/ 

\K  ORTAHTY,  behold  and  fra ! 
'^*-    Wliai  a  change  of  flesh  U  here  I 
Think  how  mnity  roy&l  banes 
Steep  withb  this  heap  of  nones  i 
Here  tlwy  lie  had  realms  and  lands, 
Wlio  now  vract  strength  to  stir  their  hndtj 
Where  from  tJieir  pulpits  scal'd  vRth  dsK 
Tbey  pruclt,  'In  ;;iurUie53  is  oo  trt^st.' 
Here 's  an  acre  sown  indeed 
With  the  richest,  royall'st  seed 
Thni  the  earth  did  e'er  suck  in 
Since  the  iiTSt  roan  died  for  nn  t 
Here  the  bones  of  binh  hare  cried— 
'Though  gods  tbey  were,  ts  RieB  they  dieiL' 
Here  are  sands,  igoobJe  things, 
Dnipt  from  the  rvin'd  sides  of  lungs  | 
Here's  a  world  of  pomp  aod  state, 
Buried  in  dtnt,  once  dead  by  fate. 


JOHN  FORD 


*iT' 


7)aiBn 


CLY  hcDCe,  sbadows,  (hit  do  keep 

*       Wuchiiil  MMTowni  chann'd  id  iltejit 

Tho'  ibe  eyw  be  ort-tulcco, 

Yet  the  httn  dotb  CTcr  wakeD 

Thov{;hu  chtia'd  up  in  bmy  vattt 

or  connnusl  wots  lod  «res : 

Love  aad  griefs  an;  so  expren 

Ai  they  latlier  sigh  than  rest. 

F]]r  Ikocc,  sh»dow»,  that  d«  Wp 
Watchful  Mnaw*  ckiim'd  in  i^lrcpl 


'J»*-'4i» 


GEORGE  WITHER 

I  LOVED  >  bn,  >  i»\x  ooe, 
'     As  (air  ft*  e'er  was  sroi 
She  was  indeed  a  rare  one, 

Another  Slvba  Qvceni 
Bw,  fool  as  then  I  was, 

I  thought  «he  lored  me  loo  I 
Bat  DOW,  alu!    die's  left  mt, 

Paltn,  Itro,  Utl 

Her  hair  like  gold  did  glitter, 

Each  eye  was  like  a  sUr, 
She  did  surpist  her  tnter, 

Which  pou'd  all  others  farj 
SIk  would  me  hooey  cill, 

She-d-O  she'd  kias  me  loo! 
Bm  now,  alas  I    she 's  left  me, 

Fniera,  tim,  hof 


•lCS-146; 


GEORGE  ';VITHER 

Many  ■  merry  mtcdng 

Mjr  love  uid  I  have  hxlt 
She  was  my  ooly  swMfinn, 

Slie  made  my  heart  full  gUdi 
Tbc  lean  stood  in  ber  eyes 

Like  to  the  nMrning  dew: 
Bvt  now,  ainsi    ihe'i  left  vat, 

Faire,   trrVf  1*9 1 

Her  checks  were  like  the  dieny, 
HcT  skio  was  wfiite  as  snow; 

When  the  tuts  bikhe  and  nwrry 
She  angcl-lilLe  did  show} 

Her  wu«  exceeding  Kmall, 
The  fives  did  lit  her  shoei 

But  mw,  alas!   she's  left  me, 

In  tummer  lime  or  winter 

She  h»d  her  bean's  dewr; 
I  stiU  did  scorn  to  sdM  her 

From  sugBr,  SMk,  or  6n% 
The  world  went  round  sboui, 

No  case*  we  ever  koewi 
But  now,  alas!    she's  left  me, 

FaliTv,   lira,  h»l 

To  maidens'  vows  and  swearing 

Hcncvforth  oo  Otdil  give; 
You  may  give  llicm  the  hearing 

But  never  them  belicve( 
They  are  »  false  as  liiir, 

UocoDMaDl,  frail,  untrve: 
For  mine,  alas  I    hath  left  me, 

FaJiro,  lav,  bo  / 


«l 


GEORGE  WTTHER 


iJ7.  The  Lover^s  Resolution 

CHALL  I,  wasdng  in  despair, 
^     Die  because  a  woman's  fair? 
Or  make  pale  my  cheeks  with  care 
'Cause  another's  rosy  are  J 
Be  she  &ireT  than  the  day, 
Or  the  flow'ry  meads  in  May, 
If  she  think  not  well  of  me, 
What  care  I  how  feir  she  be! 

Shall  my  ^y  heart  be  pined 
"Cause  I  see  a  woman  kindf 
Or  3  well  disposed  nature 
Jmnid  with  a  lovely  feature? 
Be  she  meeker,  kinder,  than 
Turtle-dove  or  pelican, 
If  she  be  not  so  to  me. 
What  care  I  how  kind  she  be? 

Shall  a  woman's  virtues  move 
Me  to  perish  for  her  love  ? 
Or  her  well-deservings  known 
Make  me  quite  forget  my  own  ? 
Be  she  with  that  goodness  blest 
Which  may  merit  name  of  Best, 
If  she  be  not  such  to  me. 
What  care  I  how  good  she  be? 

•Cause  her  fortune  seems  too  high, 
Shall  I  play  the  fool  and  die? 
She  that  bears  a  noble  mind. 
If  not  outward  helps  she  find, 

m 


GEORGE  WITHER 

Thinks  what  with  them  he  would  do 
That  without  them  daies  her  wooj 
And  unless  that  mind  1  see. 
What  care  I  how  great  she  bet 

Great,  or  good,  or  kind,  m  fair, 
I  will  ne'er  the  more  despair; 
If  she  ioTC  me,  this  believe, 
I  will  die  ere  she  shall  grieve} 
If  she  slight  me  wheo  1  woo, 
I  can  scorn  and  let  her  go ; 
For  if  she  be  not  for  me. 
What  care  I  for  whom  she  be  i 


238.  The  Choice 

A^E  so  oft  my  fancy  drew 

■•■'^     Here  and  there,  that  I  ne'er  knew 

Where  to  place  desire  before 


GEORGE  WITHER 

Next  the  Pansy  seems  to  woo  him, 
Then  Cantatioas  bow  unto  faim; 
Which  whilst  that  cDunour'ti  swaia 
From  the  stalk  inteods  to  strain, 
(As  half-fearing  to  be  seen) 
Prettily  her  (eaves  between 
Peeps  the  Violet,  pale  to  see 
That  her  nrtues  ^hted  be; 
Which  so  much  his  Uking  wins 
That  to  sou  her  he  beg^ 

Yet  before  he  stoop'd  so  low 
He  bis  wanton  eye  did  throw 
On  a  stem  that  grew  more  high, 
And  the  Rose  did  there  espy. 
Who,  beside  her  prerious  scent. 
To  procure  his  eyes  content 
Did  display  her  goodly  breast. 
Where  he  found  at  full  exprest 
All  the  good  that  Nature  showers 
On  a  thousand  other  flowers; 
Wherewith  be  ai^cxed  takes  it. 
His  betovM  Bower  he  makes  it. 
And  without  dntrs  of  more 
Walks  through  al]  be  saw  before. 

So  I  wand'ring  but  erewhile 

Through  the  garden  of  this  Isl^ 

Saw  rich  beauties,  I  confess, 

And  in  number  numberless. 

Yea,  so  differing  lovely  too, 

That  I  had  a  world  to  do 

Ere  I  could  set  up  my  rest. 

Where  to  choose  and  choose  the  best. 


GEORGE  WITHER 

Tliia  I  fbadly  ftu'A,  tiU  Fxie 
(Wlucb  I  must  confess  in  that 
Did  a  p«tef  fnvour  lo  me 
Tlian  ilir  woHd  cu)  rnalioe  <k>  me) 
Show'd  to  me  that  matcblcu  flower, 
Subject  for  this  wag  of  oui ; 
Whose  periectloo  tuiing  ty^i 
RnwMi  innantty  esjHed 
That  Desire,  which  fsinged  abroad. 
There  would  find  a  period: 
And  no  roatrel  if  it  might, 
For  it  there  balh  aJI  delight. 
And  in  her  hat]]  ciaiute  placed 
What  each  MvenI  fair  otie  grxoed. 

Let  who  tin,  for  mc,  adnoce 
The  admirM  flowers  of  Frano^ 
L<t  who  will  pTMfc  and  behold 
The  rcsenid  Marigold ; 
Let  Oie  Bweet-brcach'd  Violet  now 
XJaut  whom  she  jiWseth  bawi 
And  the  fairest  Lily  spread 
Where  she  will  her  golden  bead| 
I  have  such  a  flower  to  wear 
That  for  tho»c  I  do  not  ore. 


Let  the  young  and  happy  xwains 
mayifig  OD  the  Britain  plains 
Court  uabianied  their  diepherdnses, 
And  with  their  gold  ctulid  tresses 
Toy  uneensuied,  until  I 
Gmdge  u  their  ptos|XTi^. 


GEORGE  WITHER 

Let  all  times,  boih  present,  past, 
And  the  age  that  shall  be  last, 
VauDt  the  beauties  they  bring  forth. 
I  have  found  in  one  such  worth. 
That  content  I  anther  care 
What  the  best  before  me  were; 
Nor  desire  to  live  and  see 
Who  shall  fair  hereafter  be; 
For  I  know  the  hand  of  Nature 
Will  not  make  a  fjuret  creature. 


sjff.  A  H^idow's  Hjmn 

LJ  OW  near  me  came  the  hand  of  Death, 
*■  ■*     When  at  my  wde  he  struck  my  dear, 

And  took  away  the  precious  breath 
Which  (juicken'd  my  bclovM  peert 
How  helpless  am  I  thereby  made! 
By  day  how  grieved,  by  night  how  sad  I 
And  now  my  life's  delight  is  gone, 
— Alas!    how  am  I  left  alone  1 

The  voice  which  I  did  more  esteem 

Than  music   in   her  sweetest  key, 

Those  eyes  which  unto  me  did  seem 

More  comfortable  than  the  day ; 

Those  now  by  me,  as  they  have  been, 
Shall  never  more  be  heard  or  seen; 
But  what  I  once  cnjoy'd  in  them 
Shall  seem  hereafter  as  a  dream. 

tjg.  peer]  companion. 

4B 


GEORGE  WITHER 

Lord!   keep  me  fahhfiil  to  the  trust 

Which  my  dear  spouse  reposed  in  me: 
To  him  now  dead  preserve  me  just 
Jo  all  that  should  performM  be! 
For  though  our  being  man  and  wife 
Extendeth  only  to  this  life, 
Yet  neither  life  nor  death  should  end 
The  being  of  a  faitfafiil  ftiend. 

WILLIAM  BROWNE,   OF  TAVISTOCK 

2^0.  A  JVelcome 

TJTELCOME,  vidcomc !    do  I  liag, 
r  '      Far  more  •welcomt  than  lit  ipringi 
fft  thai  partdh  from  jou  luver 
Stall  enjoj  a  rfring  for  mer. 

He  tliat  to  the  TOce  is  near 
Breaking  from  your  iv'iy  pole, 


WILLIAM  BROWNE 

He  to  whom  your  soft  lip  yields, 
And  perceives  your  breath  in  IcisHDg, 

All  the  odouis  of  the  fields 
Never,  never  shall  be  missing. 

W^tonu,  welcfme,  ihen  .  .  , 

He  that  quesdon  would  anew 

What  fair  Eden  was  of  old. 
Let  him  lighdy  study  you, 

And  a  brief  of  that  behold. 

Welcome,   welcome,  ihea  ... 

241.  The  Sirens'  Song 

CTEER,  hither  steer  your  wingM  piaesi 

^     All  beaten  mariners  1 

Here  lie  Lore's  uodiscover'd  mines, 

A  prey  to  passengers — 
Perfumes  far  sweeter  than  the  best 
Which  make  the  FhoEnix'  urn  and  nest. 

Fear  not  your  ships. 
Nor  any  to  oppose  you  save  our  lips; 

But  come  OB  shore, 
Where  no  joy  dies  till  Love  hath  gotten  more. 

For  swelling  waves  our  panting  breasts, 

Where  never  storms  arise, 
Exchange,  and  be  awhile  our  guests: 

For  stars  gaze  on  our  eyes. 
The  compass  Love  shall  hourly  sing, 
And  as  he  goes  about  the  ring, 

We  will  not  miss 
To  tell  each  point  he  nameth  with  a  k'iss. 

— Then  come  on  shore, 
Where  no  joy  dies  till  Love  hath  gotten  more. 

itfi 


i4^. 


WILLIAM  BROWNE 


T6e  Rost 


A    ROSn,  Bi  bir  M  erer  law  titf  Nonh, 
**     Grew  ia  ■  liltlc  gaMcD  ill  alooci 
A  sweeter  8owcr  did  Natunr  ne'er  j«t  forth, 
Nor  fiiitr  ganlrti  yet  was  never  known  i 
The  nuiiden)  dancnl  aboui  it  morn  and  noon, 
And  leunM  bardn  of  it  tlieir  diuies  made; 
The  nimble  fnirics  by  the  pdi^-faced  moon 
Waier'd  the  toot  and  kU«'d  her  prrtty  shade. 
B«I  well-a^yl — the  gardener  cirrlc^s  grewj 
The  nuids  sod  fairies  both  were  kepe  awjy. 
And  in  a  drought  the  caterpillars  threw 
Tbcmi«lTes  upon  the  bud  nid  every  Bpnjr. 
God  shield  the  stock!   If  heaven  send  no  n^Ges, 
The  fiifCR  bloMOiB  of  the  guden  dies. 


T7OR  her  gait,  if  she  be  walking; 

^      Bv  she  siuini,  I  desire  her 

For  her  state's  fake;    and  admire  her 

For  her  wit  if  she  be  talking: 

Gait  and  state  and  wit  ip|«ive  bet[ 
For  which  all  and  each  I  lore  her. 

Be  slie  sullen,  I  commend  her 

For  ft  modest.     Be  she  mavft 

For  a  kind  one  ber  prder  I. 

Briefly,  ererydiing  doth  lead  her 

So  much  gmcv,  and  »o  ipprwre  btr, 
That  for  ererylhii^  I  lore  her. 


*f#- 


WILUAU  BSOWKB 


Monti^ 


Te  MOB  firv  lirdt  bid 

Maferf  At      I       Fa 


«^  case  Ir 


1  eft  BlIC  LUfU  I 

TVhd^  An«r 

"d  Ion  I    ssd  try  vfetf  UiLuv 
To  art*  BK  ln«  te  1^  fan 


^r.      ia  Obi*  JKi.  X'  JC9.  i«f« 

MAY  t    B*  tbea  arm  {nod  «cb  ««* 
Kor  Fkn^f'vfel 


WILLIAM  BROWNE 

24J6,     On  tit  CtuiUett  Damper  ef  Patinie 

T  JNDERNEATH  thb  mWc  hcrw 
*— '      Lies  Uic  subject  of  >lt  Tcrec: 
Sidneys  ^stcr,  Pembroke's  mother: 
Death,  ere  thou  l^ast  slua  another 
Fair  and  kani'd  and  good  ts  she, 
Ibae  ahall  throw  a  dm  at  thc«. 


ROBERT  HERRICK 
j^.         Corimta's  going  tt'Maying 

C^  ET  «p,  get  up  for  thanic !    The  blooming  mom 
^^     Upon  her  wing*  presents  the  god  uuhont. 
Sec  how  AuTOia  throws  her  fair 
Frwhijui]ttd  colours  tlirough  the  air: 
Gel  up,  «wect  slug-H'bed,  and  m« 
Th«  dew  bespangling  herb  and  trw  1 
Each  flower  has  wept  and  bow'd  toward  the  eatl 
Above  an  hoiu'  Mnce,  yet  you  not  ditst; 
Nay!    not  30  much  u  out  of  bed^ 
When  all  the  bird*  hare  matins  said 
And  suog  their  thsakJiil  hymiu,  'in  ia. 
Nay,  profanation,  lo  keep  in. 
Whereas  a  thou^nnd  virgins  on  this  dajr 
Spri&g  sooner  than  the  laik,  10  fetch  in  May. 

Rbc  and  put  on  your  foliaj^,  and  be  ae«n 

To  come  forth,  like  the  sprinft-time,  fruh  and  ^;ftv^ 

And  sweet  as  Flora.     Take  no  cart 

For  jewels  for  your  gown  or  hoiri 

Fear  not;    the  Icavo  will  strew 

Gems  in  abondancc  upon  yoai 

•4 


ROBEKT  HEMMXX. 

BcfiaOi  Ok  andbood  cv  ^3k  3V  sh  vejc* 
Against  ytn  cacac.  scoae  odac  srm'r  urvst. 
Coroe.  sd  mxive  agg  noe  ae  I^c 
Hu^  oo  dK  dev^jcxs  it  ^  mg^c: 
And  Tcan  on  :fae  cxss;i  i£I 

"nil  j-on  con*  fcri ;   Wik-  ±ts.  *  aTg  it  aErm; 
Few  beads  ac  bes  «!^  abs  -^  pi  wH^rm^ 

Come,  mT  CoricsL  racy ;   lod  "^yw^r    nsrv 
How  each  field  t^^-^s  »  sJ-bk,  eai^  setk  »  i^K. 

Made  green  lod  cias'd  w2=  =ss  1   ^  iE<« 

Derodoa  gins  eadi  faoae  &  xniii. 

Or  branch !    cko  jaxii.  ae&  dxe;  ss  3& 

An  ark,  a  tabenade  h. 
Made  np  of  white-tbcco  acarfr  ggwrara. 
As  if  here  wen  thtxe  ockmt  •iadea  :x  ^r^^ 

Can  such  deiigbts  be  b  dx  meet 

AikI  <^>eD  tdis,  tad  wc  acc  see'?; 

Come,  well  abroid:    sad  Set's  a«T 

The  proclamadon  made  foi  Mst. 
And  sin  no  more,  as  we  hare  dcoEL  'ty  sanaj; 
But,  my  Comma,  come,  let's  go  »'Mi3=^ 

There's  not  a  buddbg  bor  or  pri  tris  iy 
But  is  got  up  and  gone  to  bn^  b  Hit. 

A  deal  of  youth  ere  Aia  u  coee 

Back,  and  with  whi^e-tlara  h^t^  •goe. 

Some  hare  despatch'd  their  cues  *3d  ^ser. 

Before  that  we  hate  left  :o  {L-a=: 
And  some  have  wept  aad  woo'd,  lai  ■^ti^.rxz  r::-:^ 
And  chose  their  piicst,  en  we  cs  ca^e  •.—  ly.-ru : 

besuli]  prijen. 

K3  *fe 


ROBERT  HERRICK 

Mmy  a  gTcai-gown  lias  been  prco, 

Many  a  tuss,  both  odd  and  «reii: 

Many  a  glance,  too,  bts  bn&  <cot 

From  out  the  cyt,  love's  finnamcnti 
Maoy  a  j«t  lotd  of  tlie  keys  betrajring 
Tfai*  night,  and  locks  pick'di  yet  weVe  not 

Come,  let  us  go,  while  we  are  in  our  ptime, 
And  taktt  the  harmless  folly  of  the  time  I 

We  shall  grow  tiii  apice,  and  die 

licfore  we  know  our  liberty. 

Our  life  is  s^ort,  sad  our  days  rua 

As  fiUt  away  as  does  the  sua. 
And,  as  a  -ntfom  or  a  drop  of  raii^ 
Once  lost,  can  ne'er  be  found  agdn, 

So  when  or  you  or  I  arc  raxde 

A  Cibic,  song,  or  llecting  thade^ 

All  love,  all  liking,  all  delight 

Lies  drown'd  with  os  in  endless  mght. 
Then,  while  time  serecs,  sod  we  are  but  decaytng^ 
Come,  my  Coriona,  corner  let's  go  a-Maybg. 

2^S.   To  the  yirgins,  to  make  much  of  Time 

GATHER  ye  rosebuds  while  j-c  may, 
Old  Time  is  Mil!  3-i!yio£ : 
And  this  same  Dower  tiiat  Hniles  to^y 
To-morrow  will  be  dying. 

^e  ^orious  lamp  of  hoiren,  the  sui^ 

The  higher  he's  a-gctting, 
The  Moner  will  hit  race  be  ran, 

And  nearer  he's  to  setting. 

x/7.  greec-gQwn]  twntile  on  ilie  Biai*. 


Tex  tft  s  acK  ■■icn  m  2fc  ias. 

"ttk—   eS.    *f'   ^T  ^    '""'■— 


Tc^  be  id:  =0*..  ac.  ^ 


To    girt    P— — 17-j't    ijj    1    r»ai 

Brl^g  at  b-j:  ?3^  IT  iflomiE  tint. 

Thy    ■V=.^S    «■'--"     'le    i-m-anr'r    ot   ae, 

Aad  ill  bcMs  -ktj.  auvta. 


2fO,  To  Electn 

T  DARE  not  a^  s  k», 
'^  I  d^re  not  beg  s  "imiU, 
Lest  haTing  that,  or  diis, 

I  might  groT  proud  the  wliDe. 

Kd,  do,  the  inmost  share 
Of  my  desire  shall  be 

Only  to  kiss  that  aii 
That  lately  kissid  dxc 


ROBERT  HERRICK. 

ift.  To  F'hlett 

VWELCOME,  maids  of  tonour' 
''       Yon  do  bring 
Id  the  spriog. 
And  wait  upon  ber. 

She  bS9  vifgios  nunjr, 

Freah  nd  (airt 

Yet  you  ire 
More  swMt  than  Tay. 

You're  the  maiden  posies, 

Aod  so  j[raced 

To  be  placed 
'Fore  damaxk  ro»e>. 

Yet,  though  thus  rcspcctc<l, 

By-and'bj 

Ye  do  lie, 
Poor  sirls,  negiected. 


2^3. 


To  3)affUih 

CAIR  <l3fii»dils,  we  <ireep  to  sec 

^       You  haste  awajt  so  tooot 

As  yet  the  early'ri;ii|g  sod 

Has  not  ituio'd  his  noocu 

Suy,  siay 

Uotil  the  haaiias  day 

Ha&  ma 
But  to  the  ereosoog) 
And,  luring  pray'd  together,  we 
Will  go  with  yoa  along. 


lAI 


ROBERT  HERRICK 

We  lute  tboct  ume  u  stay,  as  )t>u> 

Wc  haTc  u  «bon  a  spciiqi 
As  i{uick  a  growib  lo  meet  decay, 
As  Tou,  or  Boytbic^. 
We  die 
A*  jroor  boun  do,  and  dry 

Away 
Like  to  the  summer's  nsn; 
Or  K  tbc  pearls  of  monring's  deW| 
Ne'n  10  be  foBod  agua* 


2fi.  To  ff/osswns 

FAIR  {iledses  of  a  fnutful  me, 
Why  do  ye  M  so  teti 
Your  date  is  dm  so  past 
But  yoa  may  say  yet  here  awbUe 
To  Uusb  and  genily  saiHe, 
And  go  at  lasL 

What!  wen  ye  bora  to  be 
An  bost  or  bsiCs  ddtj>bt, 
Aad  >o  to  bid  good  night? 

*T«as  pity  Nature  brovght  )-ou  forth 
Merely  to  show  yonr  wonii 
And  loae  you  i}uite. 

Dot  yon  are  lonly  learcs,  where  we 
May  read  bow  soon  thing;  have 
Thtir  end,  tbou(;h  ne'er  so  braft: 

And  after  ibcy  bave  shown  tbdr  pride 
Like  you  awhile,  they  fjide 
Into  the  giai'c. 


ROBERT  HORRICK 
if^  The  Trimrosf 

A  SK  me  why  I  send  you  ben 
■**■     Thi»  »w«t  Infioia  of  ihe  ycl^^ 
Ask  mc  vhy  I  send  to  jrou 
This  primrose,  thus  bcpcait'd  with  dcwf 
I  will  whisper  to  your  ears : — 
The  sweets  of  love  uc  inix'd  with  tears 

Ask  me  why  this  6ower  does  tJiow 
So  yellow-green,  and  rickly  too? 
Ask  me  why  iKc  sulk  is  weak 
And  bending  (yet  it  doth  not  break]  F 
I  will  answer: — These  discorer 
What  faiating  hopes  are  in  a  lorcr. 

2ff.   The  Funeral  Rites  of  the  Rose 

'T^HE  Rose  w^  sick  and  snuling  diedt 
■*    And,  bein?,  to  be  sanctified. 
About  the  bed  there  sdghing  stood 
The  sweet  and  ilnwery  Msicrfaood  ; 
Some  hung  the  head,  white  some  did  brin^ 
To  wash  her,  water  from  the  sprin;;: 
Some  Lud  her  forth,  while  others  wept, 
But  all  a  solemn  fast  there  kept: 
The  holy  sisters,  some  among, 
I'he  siCTcd  dirge  nod  iTental  mng. 
But  ah  I    what  sweets  smelt  etery*heiv. 
As  Hearen  bad  spent  all  pcrtiuiws  there. 
At  last,  when  pnyers  for  the  dad 
And  rtlex  were  all  accompUshid, 
They,  weeping,  spread  a  lawny  loom, 
And  dosed  her  op  as  b  a  lomb. 
US-  IrteUl]  MtYlcc*  for  the  dead,  of  thirtr  I 


ROBERT  HERRICK 


Zf6.  Qtcrry-Ripe 

/^HERRY-RIPE.  ripe,  ripe,  I  cry, 
v>     puU  aad  fjjf  ones  J  come  knd  buy. 
If  so  be  you  Hsk  vba  where 
They  do  £'<""•  ^  answer:    There 
Wtwre  ray  JulU's  lips  do  Btnlei 
There  ^  tlie  land,  or  cberryiale, 
Whote  planudoDii  fully  show 
All  the  yev  whoe  chenries  grow. 


If?.  A  Meditation  for  bis  Mistress 

VOU  ue  R  tulip  Kcn  to^y, 
^    Bm,  deatcst,  of  w  short  a  suty 
ThM  where  you  £rrw  scarce  nun  can  uy. 

YoH  ate  a  krnly  Julyfiower, 

Yet  one  rude  wind  or  milling  shower 

Will  force  yoo  hence,  and  m  aa  boor. 

Yo«  are  a  S{vlcliDg  rose  J*  tfa'  hud, 
Yet  loot  ere  that  chaste  fle»h  and  blood 
Can  show  where  you  or  grew  or  stood. 

Yo<  are  a  full-cpmd,  fair-set  tim, 
Aad  caa  whh  teodriU  lore  eotwiat^ 
Yet  dried  ere  you  distil  your  wice. 

Yds  are  like  balm  enclosed  well 

In  ambei  or  tame  crystal  shell, 

Vet  lost  en  you  tmufiise  your  mkU. 


ROBERT  HERRICK 

You  arc  a  duaiy  riolct, 

Yet  wiilicr'd  ere  you  can  be  set 

Within  the  wgio's  coronei. 

You  an  the  queen  all  flowers  among; 
But  die  you  must,  f»r  maid,  ere  long, 
As  he,  the  maker  of  this  soqg. 

2S8-  'Delight  m  2>iserJer 

A    SWEET  dhordcr  in  the  drew 
^''     Kindle*  ia  dothes  a  wantoontu  1 
A  lawn  about  the  shoulders  thrown 
Imo  a  fine  diuraciion: 
Ad  ciring  lace,  whkli  liere  and  there 
Enthrals  the  cnmson  Monuchert 
A  cuir  neglectful,  and  thereby 
Ribbands  to  flow  coattisedly: 
A  winning  wave,  dewrriog  note, 
In  thi-  CcmpMUiout  pccdooat ; 
A  carclnt  shoc-sttiog,  in  whose  tie 
I  see  a  wild  ciriliiy: 
!>□  moic  bewitch  me  than  when  art 
Is  too  precipe  in  ctery  pan. 


3f9.  Upon  Julians  Chtbes 

W/'HENAS  b  ailb  my  Julia  goe^  ^ 

'''     Then,  then,  methtnks,  how  sweetly  flows 
The  liquefadioo  of  her  clothes ! 

Next,  when  I  cast  nuoe  eyes  and  eec 
That  brate  vibration  each  way  freo, 
— O  how  that  glittering  t^eth  me  I 


ROBERT  HERRICK 


360.         The  Bracelet:   To  Julm 

YWHY  I  tie  ibow  thy  wrist, 
**       Jnlb,  this  lidun  twis; 
For  whM  oUkt  reason  is*t 
But  to  abow  tht«  liow,  in  pan, 
Thou  Rty  ptrtty  captive  tni 
But  thy  bond-sbre  it  my  hurt: 
Tis  ImiI  silk  that  bindcth  ihce, 
Kiup  the  thread  and  thoa  art  frect 
Bn  'ds  otbctvisc  with  me: 
—I  un  bouad  and  Fut  bouBd,  so 
That  boat  thee  I  cuinot  go; 
If  I  fiould,  I  would  Dot  so. 


261.    To  daisies f  not  to  shut  so  soon 

C  HUT  not  so  soon ;   the  duU'Cyed  night 
"^     Has  DM  as  yet  beguo 
To  mtke  a  setzsrc  on  the  li^i, 
Or  to  seal  up  the  sbil 

No  mai^ds  yet  closU  arc. 

No  shadows  great  vpfctx  \ 
Nor  doth  the  culy  shepherd's  star 

Sfaioe  like  a  cpoglc  here. 

Stay  bat  till  my  Jdia  doM 

Her  lifc-begrning  eye, 
And  let  the  whole  world  thm  dispose 

Itscir  to  li*e  or  <fie. 


ROBERT  HERRICK 

Z62.      The  Ni^ht-piece:    To  Julia 

Tjr  ER  eyes  the  gt<w>wonn  Inid  that, 
^  ^      The  shooting  Van  aUeod  thect 

And  the  dvcs  also, 

WbiMc  ill  lie  eyes  glow 
Lilce  the  sparks  of  (tn,  befriend  UiM^ 

No  Will-o'-thc'wii^p  mislight  thee. 
Nor  «aike  or  slow-worm  bite  thn; 

But  00,  on  thy  way 

Not  muking  a  stay, 
Since  ghost  there's  Dune  to  aflHght  tbnk 

Let  not  the  dark  thee  cumber: 
What  though  the  mooo  does  slumber  f 
The  staix  of  llie  night 
Will  lend  Uice  their  light 
Like  tapen  cleur  without  Duiaber. 

Tbeo,  Julia,  lee  me  voo  thee, 
Tbuii,  thus  to  conw  unto  mei 

And  when  I  shall  meet 

Thy  siU'ry  feet, 
My  Mul  I'll  pour  into  thee. 

iff}.  To  Musk,  to  becalm  his  Fever 

/'^HARM  me  asle^  and  melt  mc  SO 
^^     With  thy  delicious  numbers, 
That,  being  ravish'd,  hence  I  go 
Away  in  cuy  Humbert. 

Ease  my  >idt  bead. 

And  make  inj  bed. 


ROBERT  HERRICK 

Tboo  power  th»  ca»«t  ttnw 
Fnxn  me  ihis  ilt, 
And  quickJj  siill, 
Tliougli  thou  not  kill 
Mjf  fever. 

Thou  *w<rctJy  cinst  cortcr  the  wiio 

From  4  coiuumiog  fife 
Into  ■  gaa\t  Ikliidg  Same, 
And  nuke  it  thui  expire. 
Then  mike  tnc  weep 
My  pain*  ulnpi 
AimI  gfrt  me  such  repoaci 
Tliat  I,  poor  I, 
Uif  think  thenbj 
I  Ere  and  die 
"Mongst  rojM. 


FaQ  oo  iBC  like  the  sOrnt  dev. 
Or  like  those  nuidcn  shown* 
Which,  by  the  peep  of  day,  do  smw 
A  baptim  o'er  the  Sovnn, 
Melt,  melt  my  peins 
With  thy  solt  sinuas) 
That,  haring  ease  me  given, 
With  full  delight 
I  kwK  tlua  light, 
Aod  tdu  my  flight 
For  Heaven. 


JlTf 


ROBERT  HERRICK 


To  Tiianeme 


CWEET,  be  not  proud  of  those  two  eyes 
"^     Which  stailike  sparkle  in  their  skies; 
Nor  be  you  proud  that  you  cas  see 
All  hearts  your  ciptives,  yours  yet  inti 
Be  you  not  ytanA  of  clini  rich  hair 
Which  wanions  with  Die  loir-sick  jur| 
Whouu  that  ruby  which  you  irear. 
Sunk  from  the  tip  of  your  soft  ai, 
Will  bst  to  be  s  precious  none 
When  bU  your  world  of  bctiuiy's  gone. 


26y. 


To  (Enow 


^^THAT  conscience,  say,  is  it  in  ihee^ 

'^       When  I  a  heart  had  one, 
To  take  auniy  that  heart  from  me^ 
And  to  retain  thy  own  i 

For  »hame  or  pity  now  incline 

To  play  a  loving  part; 
Either  to  send  mc  kindly  thine, 

Or  give  mc  twck  my  heart. 

Coret  not  both ;    but  if  thou  doit 

RcsoItc  to  part  aitli  ndther, 
Why,  yet  to  show  that  thou  art  just, 

Take  mc  and  nune  together! 


ROBERT  HERRICK 

266.  To  Anthea,  wio  may  commmd 
him  Anything 

on)  IDC  to  Utc,  and  I  will  Un 
■^     Thy  Protntant  to  be; 
Or  bid  me  love,  and  I  will  gjve 
A  lonog  heart  to  thee> 

A  bean  u  soft,  a  heart  as  kiad, 
A  heart  as  sound  and  fiee 

As  ID  the  whole  world  thou  canst  find, 
That  heart  111  give  to  thee. 

Bid  that  heart  stay,  and  it  will  st^ 

To  hoaour  thy  decree: 
Or  bid  it  languish  quite  away, 

And't  shall  do  so  for  thee. 

Bid  roe  to  weep,  and  I  will  weep 
While  I  have  eyes  to  see: 

And,  having  none,  yet  will  I  keep 
A  heart  to  weep  for  thee. 

Bid  me  despair,  and  I'll  despair 

Under  that  cypress-tree : 
Or  bid  me  die,  and'  I  will  dare 

E'cD  death  to  die  for  thee. 

Thou  art  my  life,  my  lore,  my  heait. 

The  very  eyes  of  me ; 
And  hast  command  of  every  part 

To  live  and  die  for  thee. 


ROBERT  HERRICK 


i67.  Tff  the  ff^illovB-nte 

•yHOU  art  lo  all  lost  love  ihc  bcsi, 
^    The  only  tnic  jilaai  found, 
Wherewith  y*xag  men  aod  nutd*  diMmt, 
And  left  of  loTe,  are  crowa'd. 

When  once  the  lonr's  rote  it  dead, 

Or  laid  REidc  forlorn  : 
Then  wllow-guUnds  iMut  the  head 

fiedew'd  whJi  tears  art  wore. 

Vihta  with  neglect,  the  loTcre'  brne^ 

Poor  maids  rewarded  be 
For  tiieir  love  lost,  thor  only  gaia 

Is  but  a  wteaili  from  tliee. 

And  underneath  thy  oootine  slude, 

When  weary  of  tlic  ligtit, 
The  love-spcDt  youtii  and  lov«-sick  luatd 

Come  to  weep  out  the  nijht. 


368.  Th  Mad  Maitfj  Smg 

/^OOD-MORROW  to  tbe  day  «o  Cur, 
'^     Good-moming,  sir,  lo  you; 
Good-morrow  to  mine  own  torn  hair 
Bedabbled  witli  the  dew. 

Good-monung  to  thix  jirimroK  too, 

Good-morrow  to  eich  maid 
That  will  with  flotttra  the  tomb  beitiew 

Wlierein  ray  love  is  hid. 


ROBERT  HERRICK 

Ahl  woe  is  me,  woe,  woe  is  mel 

Alack  and  well-a-day! 
For  pity,  ur,  fiod  oat  that  bee 

Which  bore  my  love  away. 

I'll  seek  him  in  your  bonnet  brar^ 
I'D  seek  him  b  your  eyes; 

Nay,  now  I  think  thejr'Te  made  his  grave 
I'  th'  bed  of  strawbenies. 

Ill  seek  him  there;  I  koow  ere  this 

The  cold,  cold  earth  doth  shake  himj 
But  I  will  go,  or  send  a  kiss 

By  you,  ar,  to  awake  him. 
Pray  huit  him  not;  though  he  be  dead. 

He  knows  well  who  do  love  him, 
And  who  with  green  turfs  lear  his  head. 

And  who  do  rudely  mow  him. 

He's  soft  and  tender  (pray  take  heed); 

With  bands  of  cowslips  bind  him, 
And  bring  him  home — but  'tis  decreed 

That  I  shall  oerer  find  him  I 

2(Jg.  Comfort  to  a  Toutb  that  had  lost 

bis  Love 

W7HAT  needs  complaints, 
W      When  she  a  pbce 
Has  with  the  race 
Of  saints? 

In  endless  mirth 
She  thinks  not  on 
What's  sMd  or  done 
Id  Earth. 


No  more. 


270.  T'o  Meadows 

VE  hare  been  fresh  and  green, 
■^      Ye  have  been  fill'd  with  flowers, 
And  ye  the  walks  have  been 

Where  maids  have  spent  their  hours. 

You  have  beheld  how  they 
With  wicker  arks  did  come 

To  kiss  and  bear  away 
The  richer  cowslips  home. 

You've  heard  them  sweetly  sing, 
And  seen  them  in  a  round : 

Each  virgin  hke  a  spring, 
With  hooeysuekles  crown'd. 


ROBERT  HERRICK 

But  now  we  see  none  here 

Whose  silv'ry  feet  did  tread 
And  with  dishevell'd  hair 

Adom'd  this  smoother  mead. 
Like  uDthrifts,  hxnag  spent 

Your  stock  and  needy  grow% 
You're  left  here  to  lameat 

Yoor  poor  estates,  aloae. 

271.  A  ChiWs  Grace 

OERE  a  litde  child  I  stand 

*  ■*     Healing  v^  my  either  band; 
Cold  aa  paddocks  though  tbey  b^ 
Here  I  lift  them  op  to  The^ 

For  a  benison  to  fall 

On  our  meat  and  on  us  all.     Amen. 

Z72,  Epitaph 

vptm  a  Child  ihat  £id 
LJERE  she  lies,  a  pretty  bud, 

*  ^     Lately  made  of  flesh  and  blood : 
Who  as  soon  fell  fast  asleep 

As  her  little  eyes  did  peep. 
Give  her  strewings,  but  not  stir 
The  earth  that  lightly  covers  her. 

27}'  Another 

LJERE  a  pretty  baby  lies 
■*■  ■*■     Sung  asleep  with  lullaHes  t 
I^y  be  silent  and  not  stir 
Th'  easy  earth  that  covers  her. 


ROBERT  HERRICK 


^74.  Hit  fVinJing-sheer 

COME  thou,  who  an  the  wine  and  wk 
Of  all  IV  writ : 
Thi!  grace,  the  glory,  aod  the  best 

Piece  of  the  rest. 
Tboti  an  of  whn  I  did  intend 

The  nil  and  end ; 
And  what  WM  madr,  was  nude  to  meet 

Thee,  tliee,  my  shnt. 
Come  then  nnd  be  to  my  chaste  Mde 

Both  bed  and  bride: 
We  two,  »  Kli(|un  lelt,  will  have 

One  rest,  one  grave : 
And  hugging  date,  wc  will  not  (ear 

Lust  entering  here; 
Whne  all  dcsim  are  dead  aod  c«ld 

As  i:t  the  mould; 
And  aU  alTcctions  are  forgot. 

Or  trouble  not. 
Here,  here,  the  slaves  and  prisootrs  be 

Prom  sbackks  free  1 
And  weeping  widows  long  ofjuess'd 

Do  here  £nd  rest. 
The  wnxigM  client  ends  his  laws 

Here,  and  his  cia^. 
Here  those  long  suits  of  Chaocery  Be 

Quiet,  or  die: 
And  alt  Star-Chnmber  bills  do  cease 

Or  hold  thrir  pence. 
Here  needs  no  Court  for  oui  Re^uea 

Where  all  arc  best, 
All  wise,  all  equal,  and  all  Just 

Alike  i'  th'  dust. 


ROBERT  HERRICK 

K«  need  we  here  to  for  the  firowa 

Of  court  Of  nown : 
Where  fotrone  bnn  oo  sway  o'ef  things, 

There  all  an  lun|8. 
In  tins  securer  jilace  we'll  ke«p 

As  luU'd  ta\etpi 
Or  for  a  little  time  irtil  lie 

As  robes  U*d  bir; 
To  be  UMther  dty  rcwom, 

TnraM,  but  not  torn : 
Of  like  old  tcKonwots  engmx'd, 

Lock'd  up,  tio«  l(«t. 
And  for  »  while  b'e  hnr  concnl'd, 

To  be  rerral'd 
Next  «  ilie  jre«  riatonick  yew, 

Aad  tlien  meet  here. 

£7f.      UtatTf  to  the  Hoi/  Spirit 
TN  the  bow  of  my  dintress, 
^     When  tempt^iliOB*  mc  oppreu, 
And  when  I  mj  litis  confci%. 

Sweet  Spirit,  comforr  mcl 
When  I  Ik  whhia  my  bed. 
Sick  ia  hean  aixt  ncIc  io  bead, 
Aod  with  doibts  dtsoomfoned, 

Sweet  Spirit,  comfort  me  I 
When  the  hoote  doth  ttglt  and  weep, 
Afid  the  worid  is  drown'd  in  sleep, 
Yet  nunc  eyes  the  wittch  do  keep^ 

Sweet  Spirit,  cooifon  mel 

W74'  PUt«Bick  ]Kw]  tiie  peifect  cr  crtlk  yew,  what  the  mn,  moon, 
•Old  fit*  fluiR*  ttA  their  t«Kl«tion*  tOG«tbet  sod  ittn  knew. 
See  7te«M,  p.  3». 


ROBERT  HERRICK 

Wheo  the  passing  bdl  doth  toll, 
And  the  Furies  io  ft  shoal 
Come  to  fright  a  parting  soul, 

Sweet  Spirit,  comfoit  met 

When  the  tapers  new  born  bln^ 
And  the  comfbnns  are  few. 
And  that  miinber  mon  than  tnie, 
Sweet  S[uit,  comfort  mel 

When  the  priest  his  last  hath  pray'd. 
And  I  nod  to  what  is  said, 
'Cause  my  speech  is  now  decay'd, 
Sweet  Spirit,  comfort  mel 

When,  God  knows,  I'm  toss'd  about 
Either  with  despair  or  doubt; 
Yet  before  the  glass  be  out. 

Sweet  Spirit  comfort  me  t 


FRANCIS  QUARLES 

3?S,  A  divine  Rapture 

■p'EN  like  two  little  bank-dindiDg  brooks, 
^     That  wash  the  pebbles  with  their  wanton  streams, 
And  hanng  ranged  and  search'd  a  thousand  nooks, 
Meet  both  at  length  in  silver-breasted  Thames, 
Where  in  a  greater  corrent  they  conjoin; 
So  I  my  Best-belovSd's  aro;    so  He  is  mine. 

E'en  so  we  met;   and  after  long  [wrsiiit, 
E'en  so  we  joined;   we  both  became  entire t 

No  need  for  either  to  renew  a  suit, 

For  I  was  flax,  and  He  was  flames  of  fire: 
Our  iirm-united  souls  did  more  than  twine; 

So  I  my  Best-bdoT^d's  am ;  so  He  is  mine. 

If  all  those  glittering  Monarchs,  that  command 
The  servile  quarters  of  this  earthly  ball. 

Should  tender  in  exchange  thnr  shares  of  land, 
I  would  not  change  my  fortunes  for  them  all ; 
Their  wealth  is  but  a  counter  to  my  coin; 

The  world's  but  theirs;  but  my  BelovM's  mine. 


277,  Epigram 

Rei^e  Finem 

^^Y  soul,  sit  thou  a  patient  looker-on; 

■i'-l     Judge  not  the  play  before  the  play  is  done : 

Her  jJot  hath  many  changes ;  every  day 

Speaks  a  new  scene;  the  last  act  crowns  the  play. 


HENRY  KING 

From  thy  grieved  fiiend,  whom  thoa  im^t*st  set 
Quite  melted  mto  tean  &r  thee. 

Dear  loss!    since  thy  uotimely  fate, 
My  task  hath  been  to  meditate 
On  thee,  on  thee  I    Thon  art  the  book, 
The  library  whereon  I  look, 
Tho'  almost  blind.     For  thee,  loved  clay, 
I  languish  out,  not  Utc,  the  day.  .  .  . 
Thou  hast  benighted  me;   thy  set 
This  ere  of  blackness  did  beget. 
Who  wast  my  day  (tho'  overcast 
Before  thou  hadst  thy  noontide  past)t 
And  I  remember  must  in  tears 
Thou  scarce  hadst  seen  so  many  years 
As  day  tells  hours.     By  thy  dear  SUD 
My  love  and  fortune  first  did  run ; 
But  thou  wilt  never  more  appear 
Folded  within  my  hemisphere. 
Since  both  thy  light  and  motion, 
Like  a  fled  star,   is  fall'n  and  gone, 


HENRY  KING 


B«  w  m«cb  blest  as  lo  dncry 
A  sliin)>M  of  iJicc.  till  tlut  diy  conic 
Wlucb  ifciU  tbe  rjnfa  to  cioden  docra. 
And  »  date  friw  most  calcine 
Tbe  body  of  thn  world— lile  ihiiK, 
My  little  wofid  1    That  fit  of  (re 
Oocc  off,  our  bo(Ga  shill  Mpire 
To  onr  wult'  bGss :  tlien  we  ihtl)  tm 
And  ticv  oiit*«l*«i  with  ckwcr  eye* 
In  tlui  calm  rcgioa  where  rto  night 
Can  hide  as  front  each  otber's  sight. 

Mntntitne  thou  hait  bcr,  eanh  i  much  goiid 
May  my  harm  do  thee !    Since  k  stood 
With  Hnren's  will  I  nu^bt  nix  call 
Her  loofot  mine.  I  ^Te  tbtc  all 
My  shion-lived  right  and  inwmt 
In  hex  wbooi  li*iag  I  loTed  best. 
Be  kind  to  hef,  aad  pmhte  look 
Thou  write  bto  Uiy  Doomsday  booli 
Each  pared  of  ttus  nricy 
Whtcli  in  thy  culcet  bhriatd  doth  lie, 
Ai  tbm  wilt  snswo'  Him  that  lent — 
Not  gave — thee  my  dnr  monumenL 
So  cloK  the  groond,  and  "boot  her  sh-vle 
Black  curtan  draw:    my  bride  n  l^d. 

Sleep  00,  my  Lore,  to  thy  tdd  bed 
Nrvn  to  be  disquieted  I 
My  Law  good-night!    Thou  wilt  oot  wake 
tHi  I  thy  fate  thai!  oteruke: 
TtU  age,  or  grief,  or  ikknr&s  must 
Many  my  body  to  that  du&t 
It  M  much  lotesi  and  liU  the  room 
Uy  hetn  keeps  empty  in  thy  tomb. 

L  a. 


HENRY  KINO 

Stay  for  me  there;    I  xriU  not  fail 

To  meet  thee  in  that  hollow  vale. 

And  think  not  much  of  mj  delay  i 

I  am  already  on  the  way, 

And  follow  thee  with  dl  the  speed 

Desire  can  make,  or  sorrows  breed. 

Each  minute  is  a  ^ort  degree 

And  every  hour  a  step  towards  thee.  .  .  ■ 

'Tis  true — with  shame  and  giief  I  yield- 
Thou,  like  the  ran,  first  took'st  the  field; 
And  gotten  hast  the  Tictawy 
In  thus  adventunng  to  die 
Before  me,  whose  more  y«ars  might  cran 
A  just  precedence  b  the  grsTe. 
But  hark !    my  pulse,  like  a  goft  drum. 
Beats  my  approach,  tells  thee  I  comet 
And  slow  howe'er  my  marches  be 
1  shall  at  last  ut  down  by  thee. 

The  thought  of  this  bids  me  go  on 
And  wait  my  dissolution 


GEORGE  HERBERT 

Sweet  rose,  whose  hue  ugry  and  brave 
Bids  the  rash  gazer  wipe  his  eye^ 
Thy  root  is  ever  in  its  grave, 
And  thoD  must  dic^ 

Sweet  spring,  full  of  sweet  days  and  roses, 
A  box  where  sweets  compacted  lie, 
My  music  shows  ye  have  your  closes, 
And  all  must  die. 

Only  a  sweet  and  virtuous  soul. 
Like  season'd  timber,  never  ^ves; 
But  though  the  whole  worid  turn  to  coal, 
Then  chiefly  lives. 

282.  Enster 

T  GOT  me  flowers  to  straw  Thy  way, 

I  got  me  boughs  olT  many  a  tree ; 
But  Thou  wast  up  by  break  of  day. 

And  branght'st  Thy  sweets  along  with  Thee. 

Yet  though  my  flowers  be  lost,  they  say 
A  bean  can  never  come  too  late; 

Teach  it  to  sing  Thy  praise  this  day, 
And  then  this  day  my  life  shall  date. 

2tl.  2>iscipUne 

'FHROW  away  Thy  rod, 
■^      Throw  away  Thy  wrath; 
O  my  God, 
Take  the  gentle  path! 


For  my  heart's 

Unto  Thine  is 

desire 

benCi 

I  aspire 
To  a  M  coase[it. 

Koi  3  word  or  look 

book, 
alone. 

1 
1. 

I  weep  J 
in  pace, 
■eep 
af  grace, 

1      n  le 

Love  wil.          1 

For  will 

Stony  hearts  wi 

remove ; 
ic  deed  ; 
1  love 
]|  bleed. 

Love  is  swift  of  foot  [ 

Love  's  a  man  of  war, 

And  can  shooi, 

And  can  hit  from  far. 

Who  can  'scape  his  bow  ? 
That  which  wrought  on  Thee, 

Brought  Tliee  low, 
Needs  must  work  on  me. 


Throw  away  Thy  rod; 
Though   man   frailties  hath. 

Thou  art  God: 
Throw  away  Thy  wrath  ! 


»9» 


GEORGE  HERBERT 

284.  A  Dialog 

Mm.  CWEETEST  Sanour,  if  my  soul 
*-*     Were  but  worth  the  having, 
Quiclcty  should  I  then  coDtrol 

Any  thought  of  waving. 
But  when  all  my  care  and  puns 
Cannot  give  the  name  of  g^ns 
To  Thy  wretch  so  fiill  of  stains, 
What  delight  or  hope  remuns  ? 

Saviour.  What,  child,  is  the  balance  thine^ 
Thine  the  poise  and  mcasnre? 

If  I  say,  'Thou  shalt  be  Mine," 
Finger  Dot  My  treasure. 

What  the  gains  in  having  thee 

Do  amount  to,  only  He 

Who  for  man  was  sold  can  see ; 

That  transferr'd  th'  accounts  to  Me. 

Man.  But  as  I  can  see  no  merit 
Leading  to  this  favour. 
So  the  way  to  fit  me  for  it 

Is  beyond  my  savour. 
As  the  reason,  then,  is  Thine, 
So  the  way  is  none  of  mine  j 
I  disclaim  the  whole  design ; 
Sin  disclaims  and  I  resign. 

Saviour.  That  is  all :   if  that  I  could 
Get  without  repining; 
And  My  day.  My  creature,  would 
Follow  My  resigning ; 

JS4.  tsvooi]  lavoii,  kaowiiig. 


28y. 


That  aa  I  did  freely  pan 
With  My  glory  and  desert. 
Left  all  joys  lo  feel  all  smaiT 

Moh.  Ah.  no  more!    Thou  brcak'st  ray  heart  1 


w 


Let  us  (said 
Let  the  world's 
Contract  i 


St  made  Man, 

of  blessings  standing  by — 

nl!  we  can ; 
dispereed  lie, 


I 


So  strength  first  j  &  way. 

Then  bejuty  flow'c!,  then  wisuom,  hononr,  pleasuie : 
When  almost  all  was  out,  God  made  a  stay, 
Perceiving  that,  alone  of  al!  His  treasure, 

Rest  in  the  bottom  lay. 

For  if  I  should  (said  He) 
Bestow  this  jewel  also  on  My  creatiur, 
He  would  adore  My  gifts  instead  of  Me, 
And  rest  in  Nature,   not  the  God  of  Nature ; 

So  both  should  losers  be. 

Yet  let  him  keep  the  rest, 
But  keep  them  with  repining  restlessness ; 
Let  him  be  rich  and  weary,   that  at  least, 
If  goodness  lead  him  not,  yet  weariness 

May  toss  him  to  My  breast. 


«» 


2S6. 


GEORGE  HERBERT 


I  QVE  bade  tat  wdcomc;    yet  taj  soul  drew  buck, 

^       Giultjr  of  ixen  and  sin. 

Boi  <inck-eyed  Lore,  obsem^g  me  grow  sbck 

FiOiu  mf  £t»t  eotnace  in, 
Dtew  Demer  to  me,  sweetly  quctboning 

If  I  lack'd  anjibifig. 

'A  guett.'  I  laswcr'd,  'worthy  lo  be  here:* 

LoK  said,  'Yoa  shaU  be  he' 
'I,  the  unkind,  ungraufulJ     Ah,  tnjr  Aeai, 

I  uiiDot  look  oa  Tbce.' 
LoK  took  my  bind  aod  tmiliag  did  rqily, 

'Who  nude  the  cyM  but  I." 

'Tnitb,  Lord;  but  I  bive  aurr'd  them:   let  my  thxme 

Go  where  tt  dodi  deserre.' 
'  A»d  kflow  y«u  not,'  uyi  Lote,  '  Who  bore  the  bJime  V 

'My  dew,  tbea  I  will  Mr*e/ 
*Yoa  imn  tk  down,'  uys  Lote,  'and  uate  my  men.' 

So  I  did  tit  lod  cat. 


JAMES  SHIRLEY 
287.  A  Hymn 

OFLY,  my  Soul !     What  hug«  ^^mmi 
Tliy  dioopir.g  wiags, 
And  wti^l  Uxm  down 
Wnb  lote  of  ffudy  monal  things  \ 

Tbe  Sun  ia  now  i'  ibe  eut:  each  &liade 

At  he  doth  rile 

U  ibotttf  nude, 
Tbit  earth  may  lessen  10  ouf  eyea. 


JAMES  SHIRLEY 

O  be  DM  coT^u  tbCD  and  jAaf 

Unlil  the  Scar  of  Peace 
Hide  all  his  bcaim  m  dark  tccc»  ! 
Poor  ptlgrimt  ncedt  must  lo«e  their  way, 
Wbm  aU  the  shadows  do  tncmsr. 


288.  7>ealh  the  Levtlhr 

'X'HE  glories  of  our  blood  md  >iate 
^       Are  sbKlowd,  not  sututaatial  thiogx ; 
There  U  do  armour  against  Fatej 
Death  luys  bis  icy  hand  on  kiogi: 
Sceptre  and  Crown 
Must  tumble  down, 
And  hi  the  dust  be  equal  made 
With  ilie  j>oor  crool&d  scythe  aod  spade. 

Some  men  witJi  swords  msy  r«ap  the  field, 
Acd  plaDt  fresh  laurels  where  tikey  kill : 
But  tlicir  itroDg  nenes  M  Ixst  must  yield ; 
They  lame  but  one  another  still : 
Early  or  late 
They  noop  to  fate, 
And  muM  give  up  their  murmuririg  brtMii 
When  they,  pale  captires,  creep  to  death. 

The  gulaods  viiUier  on  your  brow; 

Then  boast  no  more  your  mifb^  dectUi 
Upon  I>eatl)'s  purple  altar  now 
See  where  the  victot-iiciim  blKtla. 
Your  heads  must  coow 
To  the  cold  tomb: 
Only  the  uctiona  of  the  just 
Siudl  sweet  and  blossom  in  ihetr  dnK. 


TH0I.1AS  CA&EV 

2S9.  Smg  ^ 

ASK  me  no  mort  »kcfc  Jotv  faeaws, 
^^     Wbeo  Jaae  b  fas,  Ae  &Ai(  raoej 
Hot  in  your  beaoiy'i  oant  6eef 
These  dowcn,  as  in  dnr  ooio,  ^ecjk 

Aitk  me  ao  cnocc  wlutho  da  vmf 
The  golden  atonu  of  the  ittj  i 
Fo<  in  pare  lote  faeaiKa  did  firtpNC 
Thow  [nvdcT*  to  cnnch  ymr  tuir. 

Ailc  OK  00  more  wUtbtr  doth  hkUe 
The  snjjitugak  when  U>j  is  paui 
For  in  yo«r  sweet  din<£i)(  throat 
She  viottn  and  keeps  tnim  her  soit. 

Ask  me  do  more  «-lier«  thiMe  «vi  \0a 
That  downwrards  &U  id  dead  of  m^ ; 
For  in  <faui  eya  they  sit,  mhI  tbm 
Fwid  beoone  as  hi  their  sphere. 

Ask  me  00  more  if  cnti  or  wot 
The  PboaU  b«U*  her  spicy  aesct 
For  uato  jpou  at  bat  slie  ftio, 
And  in  jour  bt/fftttl  bosom  do. 

290,      'Persuasions  ft  J^^  .•   a  S^ar 

TP  the  q«kk  tptiu  to  jwf  «7c 

Nov  langiiiih  and  aooa  nnat  iSe) 
If  erety  sweet  and  cvny  (nee 
Mu«  ftjr  frau  that  forsaken  &ee; 


THOMAS  CAREW 

Then,  Cclii,  let  us  mp  our  joys 
Ere  Time  such  goodlj  fnut  desuoys. 

Or  if  tliAt  golden  flccc«  musi  grow 

For  ever  free  from  agid  tnow; 

If  th(Mc  bri^t  (uns  niuu  Icnow  no  shade, 

Kor  your  frcsfi  bciutics  rvrr  ftdti 
Then  fear  not,  Cdui,  to  bcMow 
What,  still  being  gathcr'd,  sUU  must  grov. 

Thus  cither  "nme  his  sickle  brings 
la  vain,  or  else  in  vaio  his  wings. 


3fii,     To  His  FtKxnstmt  Mistreu 

'VWHEN  tbou,  poor  Exoomrtiutilcue 

"       From  all  the  joys  of  Low,  shall  9tt 
the  full  reward  and  glorious  fat« 

Which  my  strong  faith  sliall  purcbue  me, 
Then  cuise  thine  own  ioconManEy ! 

A  fairer  hand  than  thioe  shall  cure 

That  hean  which  thy  faint  oaths  did  woufidt 

And  to  my  soul  a  soul  more  pure 

Than  tlune  shall  by  Love's  band  be  bound, 
And  both  with  t^^ual  glory  cnnvn'd. 

Then  shall  thou  weep,  cnirtat,  compbin 
To  LoTe,  as  I  did  onoe  to  ihee; 

When  all  thy  tear*  *haii  be  as  vain 
As  mine  were  then :   for  thou  shah  be 
X)amn'd  for  thy  false  ^toataiy. 


THOMAS  CAREW 


2^2.  The  Unfa^m^  Beauty 

LJ  E  that  loTcs  I  ro»y  chmk, 
'  ''      Or  a  con!  Ep  ailmim. 
Or  Utm  (Is^like  eyn  doth  wcic 

Fud  to  manuaia  }a%  Urs: 
As  old  Tnne  wak.t\  ihcxc  denf. 
So  hii  flaaes  tram  wimc  away. 

But  a  naooih  snd  sttad&st  tninil. 
Gentle  tttoD^u  and  calm  dcsiiirt, 

HcHts  with  ctfii\  \iort  corabiatid, 
Ki&dJr  ncTCT-dyiiig  fire*. 

Wbrre  tlicsc  arc  not,  I  disfuse 

Loiely  chMlu  or  lips  ot  ejcs. 


^9i'     Tn^ateful  Btnut/  threateneti 

I/NOW,  Cdia,  liocc  thoa  art  lo  proud, 
^*  Twas  I  thai  gate  ihrc  (Jij-  trnown. 
Thou  badst  in  the  fofgottcn  crovd 

Of  commoa  bcauiin  Uvcd  tiaknown. 
Had  not  my  icnc  extoti'd  thy  name. 
And  with  it  iiapM  the  win^s  of  Ftnw. 

That  killing  povn  tx  none  of  thine  t 
I  gave  n  to  thy  voice  and  eye? ; 

TTiy  sw«t^  thy  graces,  all  are  mine: 
Thou  on  my  sur,  »hin'«  in  my  iki'et; 

Thru  dan  tioi  from  ihy  borrow'd  y/bsK 

Lighceisg  on  hifli  that  fix'd  thee  tbera. 

«f>f.  Uip'ilJ  gnlUd  with  Ofw  CaUhcn. 


THOMAS  CAREW 

Tempt  me  with  «uch  alfrightn  oa  more, 
Lest  whjt  I  nude  I  uncrcite ; 

Let  iooh  thy  m^tic  rotoi  adore, 
I  know  thcc  in  thy  mortal  sute. 

Wise  portSi  tint  wrapt  Tnilli  ta  uht, 

Knew  bcr  ihemsclTes  through  all  her  reils. 

JP4.  Epitaph 

On  dr  Lady  Mary  ViUiiri 

'T^HE  Lady  Mary  VaUets  lies 
*       Under  this  «one;   wilh  wr«ptiig  eyea 
The  fnrenta  thut  lint  gare  her  bitth, 
Arid  ihcit  ud  frii-nd.-i,  laid  her  in  eutb. 
If  any  of  them.  Reader,  were 
Known  unto  thee,  »hcd  a  tern; 
Or  if  iliyM'If  pottcM  a  gem 
Alt  dcu  to  thee,  »  this  to  them, 
Though  a  stranger  to  this  place. 
Bewail  in  their*  thin«  own  lurd  case : 
For  thou  pcrhnps  al  thy  return 
Ma/st  £nd  thy  Darling  in  an  urn. 

ifff.  ^nether 

TPHIS  little  vault,  ihi»  omow  room, 
^      Of  Loie  and  Beauty  is  llic  tixiiti| 
The  dawning  beam,  that  'gan  to  clcu 
Oui  cloudrd  «ky,  lies  darken'd  here, 
For  cTtr  set  u>  us:   by  Death 
Sent  to  <n£inic  the  Worid  Ocneath. 
'TwBS  but  a  bud,  yci  did  contain 
More  sweetness  than  shall  spting  aguin  \ 

JOB 


THOMAS  CAREW 

A  budifing  Star,  thai  mi^  lu<*  growo 
Into  1  Sun  wbcn  it  had  bfewn. 
Thia  hopeful  B««viy  did  cmte 
Ktw  life  ti)  Lore's  dtdiaiitg  sute; 
B«  BOW  hi*  m;ntr  irnds,  ud  we 
'  From  fifc  aad  wounding  dnts  arc  fmi 
Hix  brand,  his  bow.  let  mo  man  l«ar: 
The  flamet,  the  arrows,  all  lie  here. 


T' 


JASPER   MAYNE 

2pf,  Timf 

MMI-  is  ihc  ft-nbcT'd  tluug, 
And,  ivfailst  I  pnisc 
The  ftpMklifigs  of  thj  looks  nd  call  Uiem  raj^ 
Takn  wbg, 
LeniBf  bcfcnad  him  as  he  Hies 
An  ur.pocfWM  dimacM  la  liiine  e}C9. 
Kb  minotnL  wUist  they're  told. 

Do  make  ua  old ) 
Ami  erery  sand  of  his  Aeet  glaM, 
IiKTeaiitig  age  as  it  doth  pOM, 
latmsihly  sows  wrinkles  there 
Where  Bowers  and  rotes  do  iipptar. 
WhiJ«  we  do  spcJc,  o«r  fire 
Doth  into  ice  expire, 

Ptunes  mm  to  frost; 
And  ere  we  can 
Koow  how  our  crow  i»nu  swaa, 
Or  bow  %  silfer  snow 
Spriots  there  where  jet  did  grow, 
Our  fMfiiif  ipting  b  in  dall  wiater  lost. 


JASPER  MAYNE 

Since  then  the  Niglit  h>th  hnrrd 

Datkncs.'S  Lo»e's  shade. 
Over  its  toemy  the  Diiy,  snd  made 

The  worid 
Jtat  SDCb  a  blicd  and  shapelesa  thiaj; 
As  'twu  before  light  did  from  darkiKSs  spriag, 
Let  us  employ  its  treasure 
And  mi](c  shade  plcssitfc: 
Let's  number  out  du  liours  by  blisses, 
And  count  the  minutes  by  our  kisses  i 
Let  the  heavens  new  moikiiu  feci 
And  by  otir  embraces  wheel  ( 
And  wtiil«  we  try  the  way 
By  which  Love  doth  coarey 
Soul  unto  Mul, 
And  min^iitji  sa 
Makn  them  ^uctl  npnircs  know 
As  makes  them  incranced  lie 
In  rauwal  ecstasy, 
Let  the  bannonious  spheres  in  mustc  roll ! 


WILLL\M   HABLVCTON 
297.  To  £oses  m  the  Bosom  of  Castar^ 

t6ay4 

VE  biusliing  yirgins  happy  arc 
*       In  iJie  clusic  Dunncry  of  her  breasts — 
For  he'd  protime  no  cliaste  a  liir, 

Whoe'er  shodd  call  tlicm  Cupkl's  nesls. 

TrenspUntcd  thus  how  bright  ye  grow  1 
How  rich  a  perfume  do  ye  yield  ! 

In  some  close  garden  cowslips  10 
Are  iweeter  than  i'  th'  open  licld. 

so* 


WILLIAM  HABINGTON 

In  those  white  clcusters  live  secure 

From  the  nide  blasts  of  waDton  breath  i 

Each  hour  more  umocent  and  ptue. 
Till  jaa  shall  wither  into  death. 

Then  that  which  linng  gave  you  rooni. 
Your  glorious  sepulchre  shall  be. 

There  wants  no  marble  for  a  tomb 
Whose  breast  hath  marble  been  to  me. 


W 


2p8.      Nox  Nocti  Indkat  Scientiam 

'"HEN  I  snney  the  bright 
Celestial  sphere; 
So  rich  with  jewels  hung,  that  Mght 
Doth  like  aa  Ethiop  bride  appear: 

My  soul  her  wings  doth  spread 
And  heavenward  flies, 
Th'  Almighty's  mysteries  to  read 
In  the  large  volumes  of  the  skies. 

For  the  bright  Brmament 

Shoots  forth  no  flame 
So  ulent,  but  is  eloquent 

Id  speaking  the  Creator's  name. 

No  unregarded  star 

Contracts  its  light 
Into  so  small  a  character, 

Removed  far  from  our  human  sight, 

But  if  we  steadfast  look 
We  shall  discern 
In  it,  as  m  some  holy  book, 

How  man  may  heavenly  knowledge  learn. 


WILLIAM  HABINCTON 

It  tdb  ibe  conqueror 

Thu  f>r-stretcb'd  powtr, 
Which  h»  [iroud  dingers  traffic  for. 
Is  but  the  triuBiph  of  an  hour : 

That  front  the  farthmt  Notth, 
Some  nadon  nujr, 
Yet  undiscowr'd,  bsue  fiirtli, 

Aod  o'a  bis  new-got  conqunt  swiyi 

Some  nation  yet  tliut  in 
With  hiU*  of  Kx 
May  be  let  oat  to  Hcourge  hit  sio, 
"TUl  they  iliill  e^ual  biro  in  vice. 

And  then  they  likcwiK  thai] 
Tbcic  ruin  twrt; 
For  as  yoursclte*  your  empires  f»ll, 
And  erery  kingdom  bath  a  grave 

Tbns  thow  cde«iil  fires, 

Though  sMsuDji  nraie. 
The  fiUacy  of  our  desim 
And  all  the  )iride  of  Uie  confute: — 

For  they  hare  vatch'd  since  lirsi 
Tlie  World  bad  birth: 
And  found  tia  in  itself  accurst. 
And  ootbing  f«nnaticnt  on  Eanli. 


THOMAS  RANDOLPH 
jpp.  yt  7>evout  Lover 

••0S-l«]S 

T  HAVE  a  imsuns,  for  pcTfrciicms  rare 

*      In  cTerj  cyr,  bul  in  my  thouj^bcs  mou  fair. 

Like  tj]wn  oo  the  altar  shine  her  eyes ; 

Her  breath  n  the  |)erfume  of  McnRcci 

And  wbere»oe'ct  my  faocy  wouM  bcpn. 

Still  bcT  perfKtioB  leu  r^gioa  ia 

We  nt  and  talk,  a&d  luss  amy  the  houn 

As  duslely  as  the  roorniag  dews  kiss  flowers: 

I  tooch  her,  like  my  beads,  with  deroat  care^ 

And  come  onto  my  courtship  at  my  pr^wr. 


300.  An  Ode  to  Master  Anthm/  SlaJfarJ 

to  haittm  Km  tato  tht  CvtiHry 

r^OME,  ipdr  sway, 
^-^     I  hate  BO  patieace  for  ■  toDger  stay, 
But  hmK  go  down 
And  lesre  the  duigcahle  eoije  of  thb  great  towni 
I  will  the  country  see, 
When  <M  simplicity, 
Tbowgh  hid  in  gray. 
Doth  lode  more  gay 
Thui  fofpny  in  plush  and  scarlet  clad. 
FamvU,  yoa  cny  wits,  that  arc 
Almoat  at  dnl  wv — 
i  time  that  I  grow  wise,  when  all  the  world  grows  mid. 

f>3 


THOMAS  RANDOLPH 

More  of  my  days 
1  will  not  spend  to  gain  m  idiot's  pniw) 

Or  to  make  spon 
For  some  sligbi  Puisne  of  the  Inns  of  Coart. 
Then,  worthy  SulTorcI,  say, 
Hour  shdl  we  ^end  the  diy^ 
With  what  delijthts 
Shorten  the  aighai 
When  from  this  tumult  u-c  we  got  tccure. 
Where  mirth  with  all  ber  freedom  gorf, 
Yet  shall  no  fmgtr  lo6c( 
Where  every  word  is  thoiigbt,  and  crery  thought  is  purtf 

There  from  the  tree 
We'll  cherries  pluck,  and  [nek  the  ttnwberryT 

And  cTcry  day 
Go  see  the  wht^esome  country  girls  maltc  bay, 
Whose  btowD  hatb  lordier  grace 
Than  any  painted  face 
That  I  do  know 
Hyde  Park  cin  sliow: 
Where  I  had  latber  giin  a  kiss  than  fflcct 
(Though  M>rae  of  them  in  greater  sate 
Might  court  my  love  witli  plate) 
The  beauties  of  the  Cheap,  and  wiveii  of  Lombard  Slrce 

But  think  upon 
Some  other  pleasures:   these  to  mc  are  none. 

Why  do  I  prate 

Of  women,  that  ar«  things  against  my  fate  I 

I  nera  mean  to  wed 

That  tortore  to  my  bedi 

My  Muse  Li  xhe 

My  tote  shall  be^ 


If  I 


THOMAS  RANDOLPH 

Let  down*  get  veahh  and  bein :   vhm  I  tn> 
Aod  tfaM  great  b«)gb«8r,  gri.ity  Death, 
Shill  ukc  this  idle  broth, 
t  ponu  Irsvc,  ihat  poem  b  my  900. 

Of  this  no  more ! 
We'll  mhft  tnxte  the  bright  Pomooa's  store. 

No  fruit  sbail  'scape 
Our  |>alaic&,  from  the  damton  to  the  grape. 
ThcD,  fall,  well  seek  a  shade, 
And  hru  what  music's  mdet 
How  Philomel 
Her  Lilc  doth  tell, 
And  how  the  other  birds  do  fin  the  ^iie; 
The  thrush  and  blackbird  lend  tlwit  throats, 
Warbling  melodious  Botes ; 
wiD  all  sports  enjoy  which  others  btX  desire. 

Ours  is  the  tky, 
VhtTT  Rt  what  fowl  wc  pinsc  our  hawk  shall  fly; 

Nor  will  we  spare 
To  huat  tli«  cnfty  fox  or  timorous  han; 
Bat  let  our  hounds  run  loose 
In  aay  grouod  they'll  choose  [ 
The  buck  diaU  &1I, 
Tbe  stag,  and  aD. 
Out  pleanucs  must  from  their  own  wirraDU  be. 
For  to  my  Miwc,  if  not  10  mc, 
I'm  sure  sU  gome  is  Im: 
^Hctnii,  earth,  nv  aO  but  parts  of  her  great  royalty. 

And  when  we  mean 
To  taMc  of  Bacchu'  blessings  oow  ud  tbcti, 

And  driiik  by  stt-alth 
A  cup  or  two  10  noble  Barfcley's  health, 


THOMAS  RANDOLPH 

III  uke  01)'  pipe  and  tfj 
The  PhrygUn  melody ; 
Which  be  that  hean. 
Lets  throogh  his  can 
A  madness  to  diMem]>er  all  the  bnuni 
Tfae«  I  another  fn\K  will  uke 
And  Doric  music  make, 
To  civilize  with  graver  notes  our  whs  agitD. 


SIR  WILLIAM  DAVENANT 

joi.  Aubade 

'T'HE  Iirk  now  Iwvc*  hi*  w*i'ry  ne«, 
^     And  climbing  shikcs  his  dewy  wings. 
He  ukea  this  window  for  the  Kast, 

And  to  implore  your  light  he  sings — 
Aw*ke,  awoke  I    the  mom  will  nerw  riw 
Till  she  can  dress  her  btaitty  at  your  eyes. 

The  merchant  bows  unto  the  MOfliao's  stsr. 

The  ploughman  from  the  ■sua  his  tea^ton  takes) 

But  slill  the  lover  wonders  what  they  are 

Who  look  for  day  before  bi>  mixtress  wake«. 

Awake,  awake  I  break  thro*  your  veils  of  lawn! 

11ien  draw  your  curtuns,  and  be^o  the  dawn  t 

^62.  Te  a  Mistress  7>/htg 

Lever.  VOVH.  beauty,  ripe  and  calm  and  fiesli 
^    As  eauem  summers  are, 
Must  now,  forsaktog  tine  and  lesh, 
Add  lij^t  to  aonx  aaull  aur. 


SIR  WILLIAM  DAVENANT 


PiAitfitr.  WbHat  Ae  jvt  Uto,  woe  stin  decay'd, 

Tbeir  light  by  hen  refief  might  find) 
But  Duih  will  lead  her  lo  3  shade 
Wbnc  LoTc  a  coM  >nd  Beauty  bliMl. 

Lmrr,  Lorcn,  whose  pnnts  all  pocu  are, 

Think  every  luMieM,  when  abe  dies. 
It  changed  at  least  JMo  a  Mat: 

Afid  who  dires  dot^  the  poets  wbe? 

PiiiMficr.  But  Mk  not  hodin  dooni'd  to  die 
To  whw  ahodc  they  gO( 
Since  Knowlojgc  w  but  Sorrow't  spy, 
It  ti  D(X  **it  to  know. 


303. 


Traia  and  Tra/er 


DRAISE  is  derotion  fit  for  mifhty  minds, 
'     The  difPriog  world's  agneing  sacrifiee) 
Whcte  Heaven  divided  faiths  united  finds : 
But  Pnyer  la  vuioos  disootd  upward  dicx. 

For  Ptayrr  ihc  ocean  b  where  diitrsdy 
Men  steer  their  cotne,  esch  10  a  Mv'ral  couti 

Where  iB  ov  tntemts  so  ifiscordBM  ov 
That  half  faeig  wiads  by  which  the  rest  are  lost. 

By  PtniUBce  when  we  ourselves  forsake, 
Tb  but  in  wbc  dciiga  on  piteous  Hmca  1 

II  Pniw  we  Dobly  [lie  whut  God  mty  take. 
And  ar^  srtihout  a  beggar's  hlooh,  fbrpTen. 


EDMUND  WALLER 

jo^.  On  a  GirJU 

'T'HAT  whi(h  her  slcoder  waist  coaiiacd 
*■     Shall  now  my  joyful  temples  btndt 
No  tnoiurch  but  would  gi*e  his  orown 
Hit  orais  might  <lo  what  this  ku  dooe;. 

It  was  my  Heaivn**  extretnesi  spfaere. 
The  pate  which  hrU  that  lordj  deer! 
M]r  joy,  my  grief,  my  hope,  my  ]om, 
Did  aU  within  this  circle  moTc. 

A  ntrrow  compa&s!   aod  yet  there 
Dwelt  all  tbit's  sood,  und  alt  that's  fiir! 
Gii«  me  but  what  this  nbhand  bound, 
Talce  all  ihe  reit  the  sua  goes  round  I 

50;.  Go,  lovely  Sose 

^^  O,  loi'cly  Rose— 

^*-*  Trll  bar  that  vastrs  her  time  aod  me, 

'!"hai  now  she  knows. 
When  I  resemble  her  to  thw. 
How  sweet  and  fur  she  »ccia»  to  b«. 

Tell  her  that's  young, 
And  ^huns  to  hxnt  hec  graces  ^cil» 

That  bad9.t  thou  s|>tuq|{ 
In  deseiti  where  no  men  abide, 
Tbou  mutt  have  tmeommendtd  died. 

Small  is  the  worth 
Of  hcauty  fimn  the  light  mired : 

Bid  her  come  fonh. 
Sutler  bcr^lf  to  be  desired. 
And  not  blush  so  10  be  admired. 


3f><f. 


EDMUND  WALLER 

Then  die — that  she 
Tfac  coinnKio  fate  of  all  UuBjs  nre 

M<y  naA  in  ^htt\ 
How  Miull  a  ]>ut  of  time  they  iharc 
That  are  lo  woadroos  *we«  mi  fair ! 

OU  Age 


^T^HE  Mu  «rc  <)det  when  ibe  winds  give  o'eri 
^K~    So  calm  itr  wc  when  paitiom  are  oo  more. 
^■Por  ibrfl  wc  Icnow  how  viiti  it  was  to  boMt 
Hpf  fleeting  tkiogs,  so  cctt^  to  be  lost. 
HCIouds  of  aJTrction  from  our  youn^  eyes 
^RoQceal  that  erapdaesa  which  igt  Aetata.. 

Tbe  sool's  dark  cotu^  hMter'd  «ad  drcay'd. 
Lr>  in  arw  light  tlirougb  chinks  that  Time  hath  lude: 
Stronger  by  wcaknc&s.  wiser  ibcd  bKome 
As  they  draw  ncir  to  tlieir  eternal  home. 
Leaiing  the  old,  both  worlds  at  oocc  they  view 
That  stiod  141OD  the  threshold  of  tbe  new. 


I  JOHN  MILTON 

i07.    ffyma  on  the  Morning  of  Christ's 
Nativity 

TT  was  the  Winter  wilde, 

^   Wliilc  the  Ileal 'a-born-childe, 

AD  meanly  wrap*  in  the  r«de  manger  lies; 
Nature  in  aw  to  him 
Had  dolTt  her  gawdy  trim, 

With  bei  great  Mai.ter  so  to  symjiuhiix: 
It  WM  DO  »ca*oii  then  for  her 
To  wanion  with  the  Sun  her  Itnty  Paramour. 

J" 


JOHN  MIL'TON 

Oelji  with  ipKchcs  bir 
She  voo's  the  gttitic  Air 

To  Wuk  ho  Kulty  froot  wiih  innocent  Snow, 
AnJ  on  bet  cuketl  ihkine. 
Pill  lute  with  HiifvU  Uune, 

The  Saintly  Vail  of  Maiden  white  to  throw, 
Confuunilod,  that  her  Makera  eyes 
Should  look  BO  oecr  upon  her  foul  defetmitM. 

But  he  ber  fan  to  cea«e, 
Sent  down  th«  roeek-eyd  Pcxr, 

She  crown'd  with  Olhc  green,  came  ioftly  sliding 
Down  through  the  tuttiiag  sphiir 
H»  mdy  Harbinger, 

Will)  Turtle  wing  the  amorous  clouds 
And  wiving  wide  her  metJe  waod, 
She  strikes  a  universall  Peace  through  Sea  and 

No  Wir,  or  Bsniils  sound 
W'm  hnrd  the  Woild  nround. 

The  idJc  spear  and  shield  were  high  np  hung; 
The  hookid  Chariot  stood 
Unosin'd  with  hostile  blood, 

Th«  Tiui»i«t  »[akc  aot  to  the  arniM  thiot^, 
And  Kings  iatc  still  wiUi  iwfull  ej*. 
As  if  they  surely  knew  their  sovran  Lord  was  by. 

But  peacefuU   w»  the  iiigiit 
Wherin  the  Priacc  of  light 

ilia  ruga  of  pcacv  upon  the  earth  began: 
The  Windcs  vrith  wonder  wlusi, 
Smoothly  the  waters  kist, 

Wbisperii^  new  joyes  b>  the  milde  Oceto, 
Who  now  bath  (juitc  forgot  to  rate, 
While  Birds  of  Calm  at  brooding  on  the  cbarmid ' 


I 


• 


t 


JOHN  MILTON 


The  Stan  with  deep  amnx 
Scaod  £xt  in  tudtist  gate. 

Bending  one  way  tbdr  preuous  indutooey 
And  will  not  take  their  flisht, 
Fm  all  the  ■noming  light. 

Or  Lncifn  that  often  vxro'd  ihein  thence; 
Bu  ia  their  glimmenng  Otl»  did  glow, 
Uniill  tlieit  Lord  himself  besj^kc,  and  bid  them  go. 

And  though  the  shad;  gloom 
H>d  giTRi  day  hcT  loom, 

The  SuQ  hinnctr  nritb-bcid  hh  wonted  speed. 
And  hid  his  head  for  shame, 
As  hb  iaierioui  Suae, 

The  new  enltghta'd  world  no  more  ibooU  need; 
He  »aw  a  greater  Sua  appear 
Then  hit  bright  Throoe,  or  buning  Axletm  coold  bear. 

The  Shepherds  on  the  Lawn, 
Or  ne  the  point  of  dawn, 

Snc  (unply  cluning  in  a  ruMick  row; 
Full  little  liioaght  they  than, 
That  the  migbiy  Pu 

Was  ktndlj  com  to  llic  with  tbem  below  i 
Peth^  thcii  lam,  M  da  their  Ab«ep, 
Wan  lil  that  did  their  aiUj  thoughts  to  buiie  keep. 

Wbn  such  raosick  sweet 
Their  hems  and  ears  did  greet. 

As  ncTcr  w»  by  mortall  finger  sttook, 
Di*iodj-wiriilcd  voice 
Aflswoiog  the  sttiagM  noise, 

A«  all  their  wula  in  blisfull  rapture  took: 
The  Air  such  pleasnv  loth  to  lose, 
With  thouiaad  echo's  still  prolongs  r*eh  bcav'nljr  close. 


JOHN  MILTON 


N«ure  that  botd  »uch  M«nl 
Beneath  the  hollow  round 

Of  Cyoifcii's  tKat,  the  AIrr  ■^■■>i>  tttrilling, 
Now  wu  almoM  won 
To  think  hcT  part  was  don, 

And  th«  her  nign  b>d  hene  its  lui  fullillinsi 
She  knew  such  hamiooy  alone 
Could  hold  all  Huv*!)  and  Eattb  m  happier  union. 

At  last  surround*  tlieir  sight 
A  Globe  of  circular  tight, 

That  with  long  bcanvi  the  tha^le^ac^  night  irrsy'd. 
The  hctmtd  Cherubim 
And  Bworded  Seraphim, 

Are  una  ia  ^Hoetiag  ranks  with  winp  di^plaid, 
Harjnqg  b  loud  and  solemn  ^uiie, 
Wkh  anex{m«!UT«  notes  to  Heai'ns  new-boni  Hdr. 

Such  musick  (as  'tis  sud) 
Before  was  never  nude, 

But  when  of  old  the  mos  of  noming  smg. 
White  the  Cmtor  Great 
His  cotutdlationa  set, 

And  d)o  vclMitlluict  world  on  hinges  buog. 
And  d»  the  dutk  fouDdiiiom  deep> 
And  bid  the  weltnii};  waves  their  ooty  cbaoae)  luep.^ 

Ring  out  ye  Cry»iall  nphears, 
Once  bless  our  human  eart, 

(If  ye  have  power  to  loudi  our  tenses  to) 
And  let  your  sili-cr  cbimc 
MoiT  ia  melodious  time; 

And  let  the  Base  of  Heav'ns  deep  Oifinn  blow, 
Aixl  with  your  ninefold  biirmony 
Make  up  fiilJ  consort  to  tb'A&gelike  sympbosy. 


H 


JOHN  MILTON 


p^ 


P 


W 


For  if  9kI)  boty  Soag 
Eawnp  OUT  fiacj  toog, 

TLriK  will  na  fatKk,  and  fetch  (lie  ige  of  gold, 

ml  (pcdd'd  Txnky 

ill  uckra  toon  and  die, 

Ami  Irprocn  sin  will  lorlt  from  urtbly  mould, 
And  Hrll  it  self  will  pass  iway, 
And  Inn  ber  doloro«  siMuiods  to  the  peering  dnj. 

Yea  Tdith,  uxl  Jtiuice  tbea 
Will  down  rctoro  to  nmi, 

Tb'enaineld  Arru  of  the  IUi»-bow  wrinng, 
And  Mctcy  set  beliveca, 
Tlin>n*d  ia  Cc!e»iiilt  sfacoi. 

With  radiant  feet  the  timed  cloudx  down  nearing, 
Aad  Hea«*ti  »  at  Mm  fe«i*>ll, 
Wni  open  wide  the  G»m  of  hn  high  Pahc«  Hall. 

But  witett  Fate  uyn  no, 
This  mnsi  not  yet  be  so, 

Tbe  Babe  lies  yet  in  smiling  In&ncy, 
Thit  «D  the  bitter  cto*s 
hliisX  redeem  our  lou; 

So  both  hinudf  and  ■(  to  glodliei 
Y<i  fine  to  thote  ychain'd  b  sleep, 
Tbr  wikefvll  trump  of  doom  must  tbuadet  through  ihe  deep. 

With  MCb  a  honid  dang 
As  OB  mount  Siaai  rang 

While  the  red  fire,  md  sBWuldring  douds  out  brilce: 
The  igtd  Eaith  agasi 
With  terrouc  of  Uut  blast, 

Shall  from  the  mt&m  to  the  center  shike) 
Wbeo  at  the  wethfo  hit  sntnoo, 

7^  drvjidluQ  Judge  in  middle  Air  shall  spread  hi*  throne. 

S'S 


JOHN  MILTON 

And  theo  «  lut  out  bliss 
Full  tad  perfect  is, 

But  now  begins  I    lor  from  this  ha{ij>)i  dty 
Tb'old  I>ragDn  under  ground 
In  ncrntcr  limits  bound, 

Noi  half  so  fu  casts  his  usurped  swaj, 
And  wrath  lo  see  his  Kingdom  fiil. 
Swindles  the  scaly  liorroui  of  bis  foulded  tail. 

Tix  Oracles  ate  duimn. 
No  Toice  or  hideouK  bumm 

Runs  through  the  archtd  roof  in  words  decdvios- 
Apollo  from  his  shrine 
Can  no  more  diiinc, 

With  hollow  shicik  the  steep  of  Delpbus  leaving. 
No  nightly  tnaat,  or  brcuhdd  spell, 
In^tt's  the  pale-ey'd  Priest  froiq  the  pcoplietsc  celL 

The  lonely  mount.'iiiis  o'rc, 
And  the  resounding  shore, 

A  itiicc  o(  vmfiing  beaid,  and  loud  lameM; 
From  haunted  spring,  and  dale 
Edg'd  iifith  poplar  pale. 

The  patting  Genius  Is  with  sighing  sent, 
Wiih  liowfc-inwor'n  tressc*  torn 
The  Nimphs  in  twilight  shade  of  tangled  ifatdtets  i 

In  consecrated  Earrh, 
And  on  the  holy   Htnrlh, 

The  Lars,  and  Lemurvs  moon  with  nudnight 
In  Urns,  and  Altars  round, 
A  drear,  and  dying  sound 

Atfiights  the  FIjuiuns  at  thdr  serrice  <iuain(; 
And  thr  chill  Matble  sernvs  to  sweat, 
While  each  peculiar  power  forgoes  his  woaied  seal. 


JOHN  MILTON 

Pear,  uxl  Eulim, 

Forsike  tbdr  TcmptM  dim, 

Whb  tbit  twiie-batta'd  god  of  Palotiae^ 
And  inooDid  Asburotb, 
Hm»'i»  Quc«i  «nd  Moih*T  btxh. 

Now  sits  not  gin  viih  Tiipcrs  holy  sfaiae, 
TtM  Lib]^  Hviunon  shrinks  liis  ham, 
Is  Tiin  ihc  Tyriaa  Maids  their  woundtd  Tlumtn  mourn. 

And  ssUdi  Moloch  6ed, 
Hath  kit  in  shwiows  dnd. 

His  bnmuig  Idol  M  of  blaclteit  hue. 
Id  «un  with  CymbaN  ting, 
They  call  the  grnly  Uag, 

In  dianull  daaev  about  the  furaaat  blew  i 
The  hniti^  god«  i>r  Nile  ia  fast. 
Ins  aad  Ona,  and  the  Dog  Aaiibts  hast. 

Nof  is  Okri.  teen 

Id  Hcrapbian  Groir,  or  Gcem, 

TcMD^Iitig  liw  un^lwwr'd  Crassc  with  lowii^s  loud: 
Not  can  Iw  be  at  test 
Within  bis  acted  chevi. 

Naught  but  ptobuadat  Hell  can  be  hU  shroud. 
In  rain  with  Timbtd'd  Aoihcmi  dark 
The  sahle-notM  Sorccrcrt  bcu  his  WDtshipt  Axk. 

He  fccb  BotR  JudaS  Laod 
The  dredded  Inlaaa  hand. 

The  nyti  of  Bethlehem  bJiod  ba  dusky  ejni 
Nor  aD  tlie  gods  beside, 
Lander  dare  abide, 

Not  Typboo  hvge  ending  in  snaky  twine  i 
Our  Babe  la  «hew  his  Godhead  tnie, 
Cm  ia  h»  vndling  faoidt  coatronl  the  daniDM  crew. 


JOHN  MILTON 

So  wbcD  the  SuD  ia  bed, 
Cunaia'd  with  cloudy  red, 

TiUows  his  chin  ufoa  an  Orwot  wira, 
Tht  floclung  sliadows  pale. 
Troop  to  th'bfvmall  jatl, 

EkIi  fetter'd  Ghost  slip*  to  his  lercnll  grtn. 
And  the  yellow-skirted  Fayet, 
Ply  aiitt  the  Nighi-tuxdt,  Iciviog  their  Moon-lov'd 

But  we  The  Vtr^  b1r«, 
Hath  laid  faer  Babe  to  rest. 

"nine  b  our  tedioui  Song  should  here  h3i«  cndlB 
Hea**ns  yotrngnt  teeinid  Star, 
Hath  lixt  her  polisbt  Car, 

Her  slcc|4ng  Lord  with  Haadmakl  Lamp  uxeadiagj 
And  ftU  about  the  Courtly  Stable. 
Brigbt-bameat  Apgela  sin  in  oirdei  seri-iceable. 


30S. 


Ott  Time 


CLY  envious  Time,  till  thoii  ran  oct  thy  rac^ 

^     Coll  on  ilji-  lazy  Icadcn-^iepping  hour^ 

Wbow  speed  t*  but  the  iieaiy  Planuntta  p»c; 

And  glut  thy  self  with  what  thy  womb  derours, 

Which  is  DO  more  then  what  b  £>lse  and  •naa. 

And  mecrly  mortal  dross  t 

So  little  is  our  Iom, 

So  little  It  thy  gaio. 

For  vhco  as  each  thing  bod  (boa  but  oMnAA^ 

And  last  of  all,  thy  grredy  i>elf  consinii'd. 

Then  long  l^ternity  shall  greet  our  bim 

With  an  ifldicidua]  kiss; 

And  Joy  shall  ovcttake  us  »  a  flood, 

When  every  ibic^  that  is  sincerely  good 

SI* 


JOHN  MILTON 

And  pnfecdy  dinnc, 

With  Tnsfa,  tad  Peace,  and  Love  stuO  ever  sUk 

About  the  nipnnw  Tbtooe 

Of  him,  t'wboM  luiipy-nukipg  sifhl  alooe, 

When  once  our  hekv'nly-gHclBd  Mwl  thiD  clime. 

Then  bU  this  Eanhjr  groiaet  <|iiit, 

Aitii'«l  with  Stan,  we  «hall  foi  ever  sit, 

Trium^bg  Ota  Doth,  and  Cbtoec,  aod  tlwe  O  Time. 


jop. 


At  a  &!emn  Mustek 


DLEST  Fotr  of  Siren*,  pledge*  tS  Heav'ns  jojr, 
^^  Sptiear-bom  hamionioiis  Si«ters,  Voice,  and  Vcrf, 

,  Wrd  yoor  diTine  souads,  aod  mixt  pcnm  employ 

'Dead  tkiaga  with  inbnath'd  sense  able  lo  pierce, 
And  u>  our  higb-rab'd  pbntasie  pre«eat, 
Tbm  WMwuitPW  Song  of  pure  coBtent, 
Ay  rang  before  the  saplure-colour'd  thraoe 
To  him  tliat  &iii  theron 
nntb  Saiady  shout,  ind  »olomi  Jub3y, 
Where  ihe  bright  Scraphini  ia  burainf!  row 
Their  load  up-ltftcd  Angd  tnnnpets  Uaw, 
And  the  Qienbick  hon  in  thoutand  quire* 
Toodi  their  immocial  Hntpi  of  golden  wim, 

^  With  iboM  jain  Spirits  iha:  wear  nooriotis  Palnif, 

'  Hjmna  devout  asd  holy  Pwlma 
Koging  emlasiiDgly ; 

,  Tlat  we  OD  Earth  with  undlsoording  voice 
May  rifbdy  aatwcr  tlmt  iiKlodioD»  noise  j 
As  oooe  we  did,  till  disproponioo'd  sin 
Jarr'd  againit  Dainru  chime,  and  with  hanh  din 
Brake  the  Eiir  masiek  tlut  all  cnatiucs  made 
To  their  great  Lord,  wfaue  lo*e  their  notioD  tway'd 


JOHN  MILTON 

la  prifcci  Diapason,  whilst  ibey  stood 

la  fine  obedience,  sod  thcii  mat  o(  good. 

O  aay  ve  mod  again  reonv  duit  Soag, 

And  keep  in  tune  with  Heai'o,  till  God  ere  Ions 

To  hit  celestial  ooomr  iu  unite, 

To  tire  with  him,  and  sing  in  codlei  morn  of  B^t. 


3 10.  L'yf//fgro 

OENCE  loathed  Melancholy 

*  *   Of  Cerlieni)  and  blacken  midnight  bora, 

la  Stfgian  Catc  foiloro 

'Monpt  bonid  shapes,  a&d  sbmks,  and  a^ats  unholy, 
Fiod  out  son)  uncouth  cell. 

Where  brooding  darkncs  sprotds  his  jciJoDS  wings, , 
Aod  the  aight-Katcn  sings; 

Thcrr,  under  Ebon  shsdn,  mi  iow'brow'd  Rocks, 
fijt  ni|u;<^  ^  ^y  Locks, 

In  diirk  Cimmtrian  dt-sert  erer  dwcU. 
Buc  com  thou  Godden  fur  and  free, 
In  HeaT'n  ydeap'd  Eu|Arotyne, 
And  by  men,  hcait-eaiing  Mirth, 
Whom  lovely  Vcnns,  at  a  birth 
With  two  sister  Gmces  more 
To  Iry-crowtiM  Bacchus  bore; 
Of  whclbn  (as  som  Siger  sing) 
The  frolick  Wind  that  breathes  the  Spring, 
Zrpbif  with  Aurora  playiog, 
A^  he  met  ber  once  a  Mnying, 
There  on  Beds  of  Violets  hleur, 
And  freih-blowQ  Rums  wasbt  in  dew, 
Fill'd  her  with  thee  a  dau^ktet  fair, 
So  bucksom,  blitb,  and  debooaii. 


JOHN  MILTON 


Hute  tbee  n)-mpfa,  and  briRg  «jth  Uit« 
Jot  and  jrouthftti  JoUitjr, 
Qidps  tad  Cnokst  md  waoton  Wiln. 
Nods,  Bad  Becks,  sad  Wreatbid  Sinilcs, 
Such  as  tuDg  on  Hebe'i  chnk, 
And  lotc  lo  live  in  dimple  sleek) 
Spott  that  wriocled  Care  dcride«, 
And  Lmf^ter  boUiag  both  fab  sides. 
Com,  and  iiiji  it  u  yc  go 
Oo  the  light  faDUstick  tov. 
And  13  iby  right  hand  Ir^d  with  tbce, 
I'hc  Mououin  Nymph,  sweet  Libcnyi 
And  if  1  give  thee  homur  due, 
Mink,  sdinit  mc  of  thy  cruc 
To  live  with  her,  and  lire  with  tlice^ 
In  uorrpravid  fleasutei  fieej 
To  bear  ibe  Laik  begin  his  flight, 
And  stDgiag  startle  tfae  dull  ni^u, 
FiuiD  his  watch>towre  in  the  skies, 
Till  the  fUfipled  dawn  doth  riset 
Then  to  com  in  spight  of  torrow, 
And  at  lay  window  bid  good  marrow, 
Thro«gh  tbc  Sweet-Briar,  or  the  Vine, 
Or  the  twisiod  E^antiae. 
While  the  C«ck  with  livdj  din, 
Scatters  the  rear  of  daikoes  thin, 
And  to  the  K*ck,  or  the  Bam  doic, 
Stowtlj  strais  his  I^unes  before 
Oh  list'ain);  bow  ibe  Ho«»ds  and  bora 
Cheaily  rouse  the  slmnbriog  mora, 
Prom  the  side  of  som  Hoar  Hill, 
Tbtvugh  the  h^b  wood  ccfaoing  shrilL. 
Som  lime  walking  not  unseen 


JOHN  MILTON 


By  Hed^row  Elms,  «o  Hillocks  grren, 
Rigbt  igMDst  the  EasteiT)  gut, 
Wbcr  the  gnat  Sud  htpia  ba  state, 
Rob'd  in  finnes,  nnd  Amber  light, 
The  clouds  i&  thouund  Liwrin  di^it. 
While  the  Plowman  ant  at  hud, 
Whistles  ore  the  Furrow'd  L«fld, 
And  tht  MiUmakl  ungeth  Utthe, 
And  the  Mower  whets  bis  sitbe. 
And  ever)'  Shej^ierd  telb  his  tale 
Under  the  Hawtboro  in  the  dile. 
Streit  mine  eye  hath  caught  dcw  pleawrcs 
Whilst  the  Lantskiji  roimd  it  Tneasares, 
Russet  Lawn^,  and  Fallows  Gray, 
Where  the  nibling  flocks  da  siny, 
Mountaias  oa  whose  barren  hrest 
The  kbouriDg  douds  do  often  tcst; 
Mcadowi  trini  with  Daisies  pidc, 
Shallow  Brooks,  and  Rivers  vidt. 
Towers,  and  Dattleniecis  it  sees 
Boosom'd  high  in  tufted  Trees, 
WhcT  perhaps  som  beauty  lies, 
The  Cynoiurc  of  neighbouring  eyes. 
Hard  by,  a  Cottage  chimney  smokes, 
Prom  betwixt  two  agM  Olits, 
Where  Coiydon  and  Thynis  met, 
Are  at  their  savory  dinner  sti 
Of  Hearbs,  and  otbcr  Country  Messes, 
Which  the  neat-banded  Piullis  dresses  i 
And  then  m  ba%ie  bet  Bowre  she  leaves, 
With  Tbestylts  to  bind  the  Sheaves; 
Or  if  the  earlier  season  lead 
To  the  taan'd  Haycock  b  the  Mead, 


JOHN  MILTON 


Soa  Apk*  vish  temre  cMight 
The  cp-land  Hamleu  wiH  invite, 
Whes  the  vaerty  Bdls  ring  roond, 
And  die  jocoad  rebrcks  soand 
To  nuay  a  yonli,  and  msof  a  idm), 
DaDciog  ID  the  Chc^cr'd  ahMlc; 
And  yonng  tad  old  com  fbrth  to  pby 
On  X  Scnahinc  Holiday, 
Till  the  live-long  iLi>-light  fsil, 
TIkii  to  the  Spicy  Nut-brawn  Ak, 
With  noriM  lold  of  cuay  a  feat, 
How  Factj  Mab  the  junkets  eat, 
Sbe  «-2«  pincht,  aod  puii'd  the  fed. 
And  he  by  Frius  Laiuhom  led 
Tclk  how  the  drudgiog  Goblin  smx, 
To  era  his  Cnam-bowk  duly  mi, 
Wben  in  ooe  night,  tn  gUntps  of  motn, 
Hb  abadowy  Flale  hath  ihmh'd  the  Com 
That  ten  it^labounm  could  not  end, 
TbcQ  lies  him  down  the  Lubtor  Fettd, 
And  fttmch'd  out  all  the  ChtcineyS  leagth. 
Duk)  at  the  fire  bis  hnry  Mteogib) 
And  Crop-fiill  out  of  dores  he  ffiags, 
Eie  the  Snx  Cock  hs  Maltio  riop.i. 
That  don  the  Talc*,  to  bed  they  cievp. 
By  whispering  Wiodes  aoon  luU'd  uieep. 

Towred  Chics  please  ns  then, 
And  the  buM  bumm  of  men. 
WbcR  ibraogs  of  Koigbu  and  Btraca  bold. 
Id  wnla  of  Peace  high  triumphs  hold. 
With  tiote  of  Ladin,  whose  bright  dcs 
Rain  Rtflacnce,  xid  judge  the  ftix 
Of  Wit,  or  AniB,  while  both  contend 


JOHN  MILTON 

To  wb  her  Grace,  whom  all  coinnxnd. 

Tbtrc  let  Hymca  oft  appm 

Id  SafTnMi  robe,  irith  Taper  dcv, 

And  pomp,  nxl  frost,  aad  rcvdry, 

With  mask,  aad  antique  Pagtaauf, 

Sacb  n^ts  as  yowhfull  Poots  dnam 

Oa  Somtiut  eeva  by  bauoud  sueam. 

Then  to  \be  well-trad  si^  anon, 

If  Jouons  leaniid  Sock  be  oo, 

Or  sweeleti  ShakcKpcar  fanciet  ctiilde. 

Warble  his  native  Wood-notes  «ilde, 

And  eva  kgtatn  eating  Cares, 

Ltp  nc  in  toft  Lydias  Aim, 

Marrinl  to  immortal  tcr«e 

Such  as  the  meeiiDg  soul  may  pierce 

In  notes,  with  maoy  a  winding  bout 

Of  lindtid  svrectaei  long  dnvo  out, 

With  wanioD  becd,  and  giddy  cnmuog, 

Th«  mdtiajt  voice  through  mazes  tunning; 

UntwiitiiiK  ^  the  chains  that  ty 

The  hidden  soul  of  hannoiny. 

That  Orp hens  K-If  may  heave  his  head 

From  golden  Klunihrr  on  a  bed 

Of  hcBpt  Ely»taa  Aowtrs  and  hear 

Such  streias  »  would  hare  woo  the  eat 

Of  Pluto,  to  have  ijuitc  wt  free 

His  half  ttgain'd  Eurydkt-. 

l^iese  delights,  if  thou  canSE  give^ 

Mirth  with  thee,  I  mean  to  Uvc 


I* 


wo 


JOHN  MILTON 


//  Taiscnso 


l_IENCE  Tain  dclndin;;  joyn, 

^^     Tbe  brood  of  foUjr  without  latba  broi^ 

How  liltk  you  bested. 

Or  fill  ibc  lixtd  mind  wtili  sU  your  tofni 
l)w<-II  b  soBi  kUo  braio, 

And  fimcics  fond  with  gmdjr  shifn  poness, 
^Vs  thick  and  mmibericsa 

Aa  tbe  gay  motes  that  |)ei>ple  the  Sun  Boamti 
Or  likcii  hinreriiig  dican» 

Tb«  6cUe  Pennooen  of  Motphmi  iiaia. 
But  hal  thoa  Godd«>,  nge  and  holy, 
Hail  divinea  Mcbocboljr, 
WboK  Saintly  tbagt  is  too  bn^ht 

'o  hit  the  ScoM  of  humn  sight  \ 
And  Uierfon  n  ov  wnkrr  view, 
Ore  In!  with  black  xaki  Wadoiiu  boe. 
Black,  bat  neb  as  in  ctteem. 
Prince  Meianons  sister  might  bcscmi, 
Or  that  Stvr'd  Ethiopc  (^oecn  that  6irore 
To  Kt  bcr  beautits  pn»r  abore 
Tbe  Sea  Nrmpha,  uA  their  powen  olfcndeiL 
Yet  thou  an  tugher  hx  deicefided, 
Thee  brigbt-hair'd  Vesta  long  of  yoK^ 
To  solitaiy  Satorn  bore  j 
His  dxughtrr  sbc  (in  Swms  taiga, 
Such  mixture  iras  not  held  a  stain) 
Oft  m  gUmmcriog  Bowres,  and  glades 
He  mtt  h«r,  wd  in  Koet  shades 
Or  woody  Ida's  intno»  gm««, 
Whilst  yet  tben  was  do  fear  of  Jotc. 
Com  pc(»i*e  Nun,  derout  and  purr. 


JOHN  MaTON 


Sober,  sttcUast,  and  icimn, 

All  in  a  robe  of  difkest  |>rain, 

Flowing  with  nujcstick  trala, 

Aad  sible  stole  of  Ciprcs  Lawn, 

Over  thy  decent  dodders  dnnva. 

Com,  but  keep  thf  wonted  tatt, 

With  ee*'n  «te|>,  and  musing  gate, 

Aod  looks  commercing  with  the  Kkie% 

Thy  rapt  toiil  siting  in  thiae  cyesi 

There  held  in  holy  pasikn  ctilt, 

Forget  thy  f-rlf  to  Mtfbte,  till 

With  a  sad  Leaden  dowDvaid  cast, 

Thou  dx.  them  on  the  earth  as  fast. 

And  joyn  with  thee  cahn  Peace,  and  Quiet, 

Spue  Fast,  that  oft  with  (oda  doth  diet. 

And  heara  the  Muses  in  a  ring, 

Ay  round  about  Joves  Allat  sing. 

And  adite  to  these  tetirfid  Leasute, 

That  io  tiiin  Gardens  takes  hb  jilcaaiirc  t 

But  first,  and  chteltst,  with  thee  bring, 

Him  that  jxin  Miars  oa  golden  win^ 

Guiding  the  fiery-wbeelM  throne. 

The  Chcruh  Contcmptniion, 

And  the  mute  SiJence  hist  along, 

'Less  Philomel  will  daign  a  Song, 

In  her  sweetest,  saddest  |ili{hl, 

Smoodiing  the  rugged  brow  of  night. 

While  Cynthia  checks  luci  Dragoo  yoke, 

Gently  o'rc  th'aocanani'd  Okc; 

Swict  Bird  tliM  shuan'it  iJic  noiw  of  follyi' 

Most  musicaU,  nmst  melaadtolyl 

Tbrc  CbauBims  oft  the  Woods  amoa^ 

I  woo  to  bev  thy  ecven-Soog; 


JOHN  MILTON 

And  missmg  thee,  I  walk  taaem 

Od  tbe  dry  smooth-stuTCD  Green, 

To  behold  the  wandring  Moon, 

Riding  Deer  ber  highest  dood, 

Like  one  that  bad  bio  led  astray 

Through  the  Heav'ns  wide  pathles  way; 

And  oft,  as  if  her  head  she  bow'd, 

Stoofang  through  a  fleecy  cloud. 

Oft  oo  a  Plat  of  li^ng  ground, 

I  hear  the  far-off  Curfeu  sotmd, 

0?er  som  wide-water'd  shoar, 

Swinging  slow  with  sullen  roar) 

Or  if  the  Ayr  will  not  pennit, 

Soro  still  remorid  place  will  fit, 

Where  glowing  Embers  through  the  room 

Teach  light  to  counterfeit  a  gloom, 

Far  from  all  resoft  of  mirth, 

Save  the  Cricket  on  the  hearth. 

Or  the  fielmans  drousie  charm, 

To  bless  the  dores  from  nightly  barm : 

Or  let  my  Lamp  at  midnight  hour, 

Be  seen  in  soin  high  lonely  Towr, 

Where  I  may  oft  out-watch  the  Bear, 

With  thrice  great  Hermes,  or  unspbear 

The  spirit  of  Plato  to  unfold 

What  Worlds,  or  what  vast  Regions  hold 

The  immortal  mind  that  hath  forsook 

Her  mansion  in  this  fleshly  nook: 

And  of  those  Dzmons  that  are  found 

In  fire,  air,  flood,  or  under  ground. 

Whose  power  hath  a  true  consent 

With  Planet,  or  with  Element. 

Som  time  let  Gorgeous  Tragedy 

V7 


JOHN  MILTON 


In  ScepCcr'd  Pall  cum  5w«ep>iig  by, 
PrL-sendag  ThetM,  or  Pdopt  tine, 
Or  the  u!e  of  Troy  dlnne. 
Or  wbai  (though  tatc)  of  Utcr  age, 
EnnoblM  hath  the  Buskind  sugc. 

But,  O  *ad  Virgin,  that  th;r  i>o«vcr 
Might  raisf  Musxiis  rrom  his  bower. 
Or  bid  tJie  »oul  of  Orpheus  sJag 
Such  notes  as  waibled  to  the  string, 
Drew  Iron  ton  dotm  Pluto's  cheek, 
And  m^dc  Hdl  grant  what  Lotc  did  teek. 
Or  call  up  him  that  left  half  told 
Tlic  story  of  Cambuscan  bold, 
Of  Cambill,  and  of  Algarsife, 
And  who  had  Canace  to  wife, 
That  own'd  die  nnuous  Ring  and  Glass, 
And  of  ihc  woodrou*  Hora  of  Brau, 
On  which  the  Tartar  Kin^  did  ride  | 
And  if  ought  el«,  great  Bardi  beside, 
In  Mge  and  solemn  tunc<  have  sung. 
Of  Ttimcys  and  of  Trofihic*  hung  j 
Of  FoirstB,  and  inchanimcni!*  drear, 
Where  more  is  meant  then  meets  the  ear. 
Thus  n^Jat  oft  sec  me  in  thy  pale  career, 
Till  civil-suited  Mora  appeer, 
Not  trickt  and  frounc't  as  she  was  worn. 
With  the  Attick  Boy  to  hunt, 
But  Chcrehcf't  in  a  comly  Cloud, 
Whdie  tocking  Winds  are  Piping  loud, 
Or  n^cr'd  witii  a  shower  still, 
When  the  gust  hath  blown  bis  lilt, 
Ending  on  the  russling  Leaves, 
With  mimile  drops  from  olT  the  Eaves. 
pa 


JOHN  MILTON 

And  when  the  Sun  begins  to  fling 
His  flanng  beams,  me  Godtlea  bring 
To  archid  walks  of  twilight  groves, 
And  shadows  brown  that  Sylvan  loves, 
Of  Pine,  or  mcmumental  Oake, 
Where  the  nule  Ax  with  heavSd  stroke. 
Was  never  heard  the  Nymphs  to  daunt, 
Or  (right  them  from  their  hallow'd  haunt. 
There  in  close  covert  by  som  Brook, 
Where  no  profaner  eye  may  look. 
Hide  me  from  Day's  garish  ae, 
While  the  Bee  with  Honied  tide. 
That  at  her  Sowry  work  doth  sing. 
And  the  Waters  murmuring 
With  such  consort  as  they  keep, 
Entice  the  dewy-ieatber'd  Sleep ; 
And  let  som  strange  mysterious  dream, 
Wave  at  his  Wings  in  Airy  stream, 
Of  lively  portrature  display'd. 
Softly  on  my  eye-lids  laid. 
And  as  I  wake,  sweet  musick  Ineath 
Above,  about,  or  underneath. 
Sent  by  som  spirit  to  mortals  good, 
Or  th'unseen  Genius  of  the  Wood. 

But  let  my  due  feet  never  fail, 
To  walk  the  studious  Cioysters  pale, 
And  love  the  high  embow^  Roof, 
With  aniick  Pillars  massy  proof, 
And  storied  Windows  richly  dight. 
Casting  a  dimm  religious  light. 
There  let  the  pealing  Organ  blow. 
To  the  full  voic'd  Quire  below. 
In  Service  high,  and  Anthems  deer. 


JOHN  MILTON 

As  may  with  svfHtoM,  througb  mine  (of, 

Dissolic  mp  into  cxunies. 

And  brioj;  all  Hcav'n  before  mioc  vyn. 

And  may  m  Us  my  wmy  ag<t 

Find  out  tbe  peaceruU  hniutage, 

The  Hairy  Gown  and  Moisy  Cell, 

Where  I  nuy  sit  and  rif>bdy  spell 

Of  etefy  Sur  that  Hmv'o  doth  shew, 

And  every  Herb  tbat  sip  the  dewi 

Till  old  csjirriGOCC  do  attjMD 

To  toinihing  Itlw  Propbctk  Binin. 

These  rlooons  Melancholy  pjt, 

And  I  with  thee  wiU  cboox  to  liv«> 

3l£.  From  '^rc<tJes' 

O'RE  the  smooth  enameld  green 
Wb«rc  no  print  of  step  b*th  liMfl, 

Follow  mc  us  I  sing. 

And  touch  the  warbled  string- 
Under  I  be  ^bady  roof 
Of  branching  Ghi  Star-proof, 

Follow  me, 
I  will  brtng  you  where  she  iks 
Cbd  m  splendor  as  befits 

Her  deity. 
Such  a  rtinil  Queen 
All  Arcadia  bath  not  scou 

From  'Comas' 
3'3-  > 

'T'HE  Sur  that  bids  the  Shepherd  foM, 
^    Now  the  top  of  Hcit'o  doth  liofd, 
no 


JOHN  MILTON 

And  the  fflded  Car  of  Day, 

His  glowiog  Axle  doth  alfajr 

In  the  steep  Atkntick  stream, 

And  the  slope  Sun  his  upward  beam 

Shoots  against  the  dusky  Pole, 

Pacing  toward  the  other  gole 

Of  his  Chamber  in  the  East. 

Mean  while  welcom  Joy,  and  Feast, 

Midnight  shout,  and  revelry, 

Tipsie  dance,  and  Jollity. 

Braid  your  Locks  with  rosie  Twine 

Dropping  odoura,  dropping  Wine. 

Rigor  now  is  gon  to  bed, 

And  Advice  with  scmpuloDS  bead, 

Strict  Age,  and  sowre  Severity, 

With  iheir  grave  Saws  in  slumber  ly. 

We  that  are  of  purer  fire 

Imitate  the  Starry  Quire, 

Who  in  their  nightly  watchful!  Sphears, 

Lead  in  swift  round  the  Months  and  Years. 

The  Sounds,  and  Seas  with  all  their  linny  drove 

Now  to  the  Moon  in  waTcring  Morrice  move. 

And  on  the  Tawny  Sands  and  Shelves, 

Trip  the  pert  Fairies  and  the  dapper  Elves; 

By  dimpled  Brook,  and  Fountain  brim. 

The  Wood-Nymphs  deckt  with  Daisies  trim, 

Their  merry  wakes  and  pastimes  keep: 

What  hath  night  to  do  with  sleep  J 

Night  hath  better  sweets  to  prove, 

Venus  now  wakes,  and  wak'ns  Love.  ... 

Com,  knit  hands,  and  beat  the  ground. 

In  a  light  fantastick  round. 


Ui 


JOHN  MILTON 

314-  a 

Echo 
CWEET  Echo,  swMten  Nympti  that  lir'n 
'^  Within  thy  airy  shdl 

By  slow  McJndct's  nurgcot  grcco, 
And  in  the  violet  uobroidci'd  vJc 

Where  the  lorc-Iora  Nighuogilc 
Nig)itly  to  thee  her  sad  Song  moitnwth  well. 
CaoK  thou  not  tell  me  of  a  gentle  P^ 
That  likest  thy  Narduua  an} 

O  if  thou  have 
Kid  them  in  som  Howry  Care, 
Tel!  me  but  when: 
Sweet  Queen  of  Parly,  Daughter  of  the  Sphear ! 
So  niai«  tbou  be  trantlatcd  to  the  !ikic«, 
And  give  resounding  grace  to  all  Hcav'u  Hanuooies  I 


3if.  m 

Sabswa 

C  ABRINA  feir 

^     Listen  where  tbou  an  littiog 

Under  the  glatsic,  cool,  tnn^cent  ware, 

In  twisted  braids  of  Lillica.  Itniung 
llie  loose  train  of  thy  ambcr>dtopfaag  hair, 

Liatnt  foi  dear  honour's  sake, 

Goddew  of  the  stlvn  lake, 

Listen  and  save! 

Listen  and  appear  to  ua. 

In  fianie  of  great  Occanco, 

By  the  earth-shaking  Kr)]lune''i  mace. 

And  Tcthys  grave  majcstick  pice, 


JOHN  MILTON 


By  boaty  Nncus  wrinctod  look, 
Asd  ilie  CiqailuMi  viurds  book. 
By  «cJy  TriioDX  vinding  abcll, 
Aod  old  sootifujrnig  CIrdcus  ^>cUr 
By  Lncothca's  lonly  haads. 
And  li«T  lOQ  thst  roles  the  stmuls, 
By  Th«is  uii»cl-^])t«T'd  feet, 
Aad  die  Soogs  of  Sireu  swte^ 
By  dead  PanheiK>[«'t  dear  tomb, 
And  fiir  Lign'i  sf^Mra  comb, 
Wherwith  ihe  mia  od  dumood  lock* 
Sleckiag  ber  K>ft  sUuriBg  locks 
By  all  the  Nfmiibs  that  easily  dance 
Upoa  thy  stmnu  villi  w3y  ^»a<x. 
Rite,  rise,  »d  beave  thy  rasie  head 
Pram  thy  caral-|iaT'o  bed, 
And  bridle  ia  thy  beadloof;  ware, 
Till  thorn  our  lununiina  aniwend  bare. 

Liitcn  and  uvcl 

By  the  mhy-fiiagM  bank, 
Wbm  grows  the  Willow  aad  the  Oner  d.iak. 

My  sliding  Chanoc  suycs, 
Thick  set  WTlh  Agat,  and  tbe  aiuni  abt«n 
or  Tuikis  blew,  aod  Ennuld  green 

That  in  the  chaoncU  atreyes, 
White  ttom  off  tbe  waters  Anrt 
ThiM  I  set  my  printlea  feet 
O'lv  the  Cows!i]»  Velvet  bud, 

That  benda  not  a»  I  ircad, 
Cmtle  swain  at  Uiy  rciiiicsi 
I  am  here. 


JOHN  MILTON 


il6. 


n 


Tht  Spirit  ffikgahcfi  r 

•T^  the  Occ«n  now  I  Sf, 
^    Aod  those  faapp/  dimes  ihat  If 
Where  day  octct  shu»  lus  eyt, 
Vy  in  the  bioad  Tields  of  the  &k]r  t 
There  I  suck  the  lii^tiid  ayr 
Ail  imitlit  the  Gnrdccj  hit 
Of  Hesperus,  and  bis  diughEcra  three 
Th»t  ting  about  the  gnldcn  tree: 
Along  the  crispM  shades  and  bowTM 
Reikis  the  9[in)ce  and  joeood  SpHog, 
The  Cnices,  aod  the  rosie-boosom'd  Homes, 
Thither  all  their  bounties  bring;. 
That  iberc  eternal  Summer  dmb, 
And  West  wiads,  with  musky  wing 
Abutit  the  eedar'n  alleys  fling 
Natd,  and  CMsia'a  bobny  smels. 
Iris  there  with  htsnid  bow, 
Wnirra  the  odorous  books  that  blow 
FlowcrM  of  more  mingled  hew 
Thin  ber  purfl'd  scarf  can  shew, 
Aod  drenches  with  Elysim  dew 
(Let  mortals,  if  your  ears  be  tnie) 
Beds  of  Hyacinth,  and  roses 
Where  youDfi  Adonis  oft  reposes, 
Waxing  well  of  his  deep  wound 
In  slumber  soit,  and  on  the  grouod 
Sadly  sits  th'  Assyrian  Qveeai 
But  far  above  b  jangled  ittta 


JOHN  MILTON 

Celestial  Cufud  her  fam'd  sod  suivanc't, 
Holds  his  dear  Psyche  sweet  intraac't 
After  her  waodring  laboius  long, 
Till  free  consent  the  gods  among 
Make  her  his  etenial  Biide, 
And  from  her  fair  unspotted  side 
Two  blissful  twins  are  to  be  bom, 
Youth  Bod  Joy  I  so  Jo*e  hath  sworn. 

But  DOW  my  task  b  smoothly  doD, 
I  can  fly,  or  I  can  nm 
Quickly  to  the  green  earths  end. 
Where  the  bow'd  welkin  slow  doth  bend, 
And  from  thence  can  soar  as  soon 
To  the  comets  of  the  Moon. 

Mortals  that  would  follow  me, 
LoTe  vertue,  she  alone  b  free. 
She  can  teach  ye  how  to  clime 
Higher  then  the  Spfaeary  chime; 
Or  if  Vertue  feeble  were, 
Heav'n  it  self  would  stoop  to  her. 

A  Lament  for  a  friend  dratimcd  in  bli  pauagt  fnm 
ChttUr  on  iht  Ir'tih  Scat,  l6jy 

VET  oace  more,  O  ye  Laurels,  and  ODce  more 
■*    Ye  Myrtles  brown,  with  Ivy  ne?er-sear, 
I  com  to  pluck  your  Berries  harsh  and  crude, 
And  with  forc'd  fingers  rude. 
Shatter  your  leaves  before  the  mellowing  year. 
Bitter  constraint,  and  sad  occasion  dear. 
Compels  me  to  disturb  your  season  due : 
For  Lyeidas  is  dead,  dead  ere  his  prime 

as 


JOHN  MILTON 


Young  Lycidjn,  and  huh  not  left  his  peer: 
Wio  would  not  sing  for  LfcidasJ  be  knew 
Himself  to  niog,  aad  buUd  the  lofty  ibynie. 
He  nun  not  flote  upon  biit  watry  besir 
Unv'cpt,  and  wdtn  to  the  forcbing  wind, 
\^'ithoui  the  meed  of  fom  iDclodious  tear. 

Begin,  then.  Sitters  of  the  SKnd  well, 
That  from  benr;ilh  the  scat  of  Jore  doth  sjirins 
Begin,  and  somwhAt  lowdly  ntvy  ih*  strng. 
Henoe  with  dciu&l  vain,  and  coy  exciet, 
So  mty  MHK  gentle  Muse 
With  lucky  words  Bvour  my  destb'd  Um, 
And  IS  be  posses  turn, 
And  bid  lair  peace  be  to  my  JuUe  throwd. 
For  we  were  nurst  upon  the  tdr-tanic  hill. 
Fed  the  xamc  flock,  by  fountain,  sludc.  tnd  rilt. 

TogfliiR  both,  ere  the  blgh  Lawos  appnr'd 
Under  the  opening  eye^ida  of  the  mom, 
Wc  drore  a  field,  And  both  together  heard 
What  lime  the  Gray-fly  winds  her  tuliry  hon, 
Batt'iung  our  flocks  with  the  fresh  dews  of  ii^tbt,^ 
Oft  till  the  Star  that  row,  at  Ev'mng,  bright 
Toward  Hear'na  descent  bad  slop'd  his  westcriag  wbeel. 
Mean  while  the  Rural  ditties  were  not  mute, 
Tcmpcr'd  to  th 'Oaten  Flute ; 
Ro«]gb  Sotyn  d.-tnc'd,  and  Fauns  with  ctor'n  bcel. 
From  the  glad  sound  would  not  be  absent  long. 
And  old  Damxtas  lov'd  to  hear  our  *ong. 

But  O  the  heavy  change,  now  thou  an  gofi, 
Now  tbou  ait  gon,  and  never  roust  rctom  I 
Thee  Shepherd,  tbee  the  Wood^  and  desert  Cares, 
With  wilde  Thyme  and  the  gadding  Viae  o'ttgruwn. 
And  all  their  echoes  mourn. 


I 


I 


JOHN  MILTON 


The  mOows,  and  the  Haik  Copses  grwo, 

Shad  %tm  no  more  be  SKO, 

Faoniog  ibcir  jojvua  Leam  to  tb;  loft  Ujtu 

Ai  kiniag  as  tfae  Cinker  to  tbe  Rok, 

Or  Taint-wonn  to  the  venling  Herds  that  graxe. 

Or  FrDtt  to  Floirera,  tlut  their  gaj  wardrop  wear, 

Wheo  fine  the  White  iborn  Utrvit; 

Such,  Lycidis,  thy  Iom  to  Shepherds  t*r. 

Where  wre  yt  Nymphs  vhcu  the  remofwless  deep 
Clos'd  o're  the  head  of  your  loVd  Lyeidas? 
For  ndiher  wrrt  ye  playing  oo  the  stcrp, 
Where  your  old  Bards,  the  funous  Dn^  If, 
Nor  oa  the  ^htggy  top  of  Mona  high, 
Nor  jtt  where  I>e%-a  spreads  ber  wiurd  Stream: 
Ay  nx^  I  feodly  dream ! 

Had  ye  bin  there— for  what  could  that  hare  don  ? 
What  coold  the  Mase  her  self  that  Oipheus  bore. 
The  Mne  ber  self,  tot  her  indamiDg  sod 
Whom  Unitenid  nanire  did  bmeot, 
WfacB  by  the  tout  that  nude  the  hideous  nw. 
His  goary  visage  down  the  sirram  trn  Kent, 
Down  the  swift  Hcbnu  to  the  Lettiisn  shore. 

Alas!     What  boots  it  wiih  oDcesunt  care 
To  tend  the  homely  slighted  Shepherds  trade. 
And  stricdy  medkaie  the  thanUes  Mtoe, 
Were  it  nut  better  don  as  otheni  use. 
To  tport  with  Amacyflis  to  the  shade, 
Or  wKh  the  tsDglcs  of  N<ara'»  hair? 
Fame  b  the  tpvr  th»  the  ckar  spirit  doth  nise 
(Tb«  Uk  isfiniriiy  of  Nobte  mind) 
To  scam  delights,  sod  live  laborious  dayes; 
B«  the  fair  Gnerdon  when  we  hope  to  fiad, 
And  thtok  to  burst  out  into  sodden  blaie^ 


JOHN  MILTON 


Cooics  Uw  bind  Futy  witli  th'sbtiorrM  shears, 

And  sliu  ibe  thia  »imn  lile.     But  not  the  prai^r, 

^oebus  KjiU'd,  aad  touch'd  my  trembling  eani 

Fame  a  no  plant  thit  grow*  on  mortal  xmI, 

Noc  in  the  glisKring  fisit 

Set  ofT  to  th'wotld,  dot  in  broad  rumour  licRi 

But  lives  and  spreds  doA  by  (bOM  pure  eyn, 

And  pcrfct  wioiea  of  all  judging  Jore; 

As  be  pronouQocs  lastly  on  each  il<ed. 

Of  M  much  fame  in  Heav'o  expect  ibjr  meed. 

O  fountida  ArtlbuM',  and  thou  bocour'd 
SnM>oth-3lidiqg  Mincius,  ciawn'd  with  vocall  raeds, 
That  stnin  I  heard  wu  of  a  higher  moodi 
But  now  my  Oate  [«oceed«, 
Aod  tisicnn  to  th«  Hciaid  of  the  Sea 
That  came  in  Neptune's  plea. 
He  itk'd  the  Warn,  and  aik'd  tbc  Fctlon  wwEsT 
Wbal  hard  mi^ap  hath  doom'd  this  gcnilc  swain  f 
And  cjuctuon'd  every  gat  of  rugged  wings 
That  blows  from  olT  uch  bcakM  Pramontoryi 
Tbty  knew  nut  of  his  sioiy, 
And  Bigc  HippoudM  tbdr  answer  briogi, 
That  om  a  lA^n  via  fioai  his  duagnui  atra/d| 
The  Ayr  was  c»lm,  and  on  tbc  lent  btine, 
Sleek  Panopc  with  4II  her  sisters  play'd. 
It  was  that  htaH  and  {vriidiou*  Bark 
Built  in  th'edipse,  and  tigg'd  with  cwms  datk, 
That  sunk  so  low  that  sacred  head  of  thine. 

Next  Camus,  reverend  Sire,  «<cst  footing  sloi 
His  Mantle  hairy,  and  hit  Bonnet  scdgf, 
Inwrought  with  figures  dim,  and  on  the  edge 
Like  to  tliat  sanguine  Aowcr  insctib'd  with  wor. 
Ah;  Who  bath  reft  (^iNtb  he)  my  dearest  pledge} 


JOHN  MILTON 


Last  cuae,  and  Inst  did  go, 

Tbe  Pilot  of  the  Galilean  hkt. 

Two  ttttasj  K<y«  be  bore  oT  roeub  twMo, 

(Tbc  GcUcn  ojm,  ibe  Itoo  sbcU  omaiB) 

He  shotd:  bb  Mhn'd  luck^,  and  imib  bnpikr, 

How  mJl  could  1  luvc  ipu-'d  for  thcr,  jiouag  itwaki, 

Aoow  of  tocb  u  fw  their  bellies  nke, 

Crcq>  and  ininidc,  and  climb  iaio  the  (Mi 

or  other  care  tbry  Hide  icck'tibg  make. 

Then  how  to  scramble  at  the  sbcaien  feiKt, 

And  &hoTe  awiy  the  worthy  bidden  gueu. 

BlitHi  moutbesJ  that  scarce  themsclics  luiuw  bow  lo  hiJil 

A  Sheep-hook,  or  b:iiv  Icara'd  Ov^Jut  eh  the  lean 

Thai  to  the  fiutbfull  Herdmans  art  bcioof>!i ! 

What  (ccks  k  thctn !  What  oeed  they  ?  They  arc  (fed ; 

And  vhra  Uicy  list,  tltrir  lean  and  Hnbj  tongt 

Grate  on  tbdr  scrBAOcI  Pipes  of  wmchcd  sodx. 

The  htngry  Sbeep  took  upy  uid  ate  not  fed. 

But  ivoln  wnh  wisd,  aad  the  rank  min  thejr  dnw, 

(tot  inwudly,  tnil  foul  cootagion  «[«tnd: 

Beudes  wliat  tbc  {run  Woolf  with  {viry  paw 

Daily  dcTOun  >f*ot,  and  ootbing  srd. 

But  ihn  two-bwiicd  tngtoc  ai  the  door, 

Stnds  ready  to  sniit«  oooe,  aad  smite  no  more. 

Return  Alphctu,  the  drc»d  raice  ii  jasi. 
That  thrwik  thy  ttnamut    Retura  Sicilian  Mum-, 
And  call  the  Valct,  aod  bid  them  hither  cut 
Tbtif  Brli),  unl  Flourcis  of  a  tbou*UKj  hue*. 
Ye  ralleys  low  where  the  milde  whbpcis  use, 
or  shades  and  wraoton  wind»,  and  gushing  brooks. 
On  wbo4c  fresh  lap  the  swart  Scar  ifmly  looks. 
Throw  lutlicr  all  your  quaint  eiwneld  eyes, 
That  on  the  gieco  ictf  wck  the  honied  showio, 


JOHN  MILTON 


Aod  puijJe  all  ih«  ground  whh  rtnti  Rowres. 

Being  the  rntbc  Primrow  ihM  forHlcfti  din. 

The  luftcd  Craw-tor,  and  pate  G«ssunine, 

The  u-bitc  I'iiik,  and  the  Pxuie  fnaki  wiib  jnt, 

The  glowiojt  Violet. 

The  MtukToac,  and  the  wdl  attir'd  Woodbine. 

With  Cowslips  wm  thnt  hang  th«  prasite  bed, 

And  erci;  Aowrr  that  ud  embroider  j  wears ; 

Bid  Amaimthus  all  his  bmitj  shed, 

And  Datl&dillies  €l]  their  cupa  with  tears, 

To  Miew  the  Laureat  Herse  where  Ljrdd  lies. 

Por  «o  to  ioterpose  a  little  eate, 

Let  oar  (rail  thoughts  diJiy  with  falae  SHrmise. 

Ay  me  I    Whil«  tbor  the  ^n:s,  itnd  coundbg  Seas 

Wxsh  far  swiy,  where  ere  thy  bones  m  barld, 

Wketlicr  beyond  ibe  stonny  Hebrides 

Where  thou  prrhips  under  the  whelming  tide 

Visit'st  the  bottom  of  the  moostrous  world; 

Or  whether  tltou  to  our  motn  raws  dcoy*d, 

Sleep'at  by  the  ftble  of  Belleros  old, 

Where  the  great  viaion  of  the  guarded  Mount 

Looks  toward  Namanco*  and  Bayona'i  hold ; 

Look  homeward  Angct  now,  and  tndi  with  raih. 

And,  O  ye  Dotphias,  wait  the  haples  youth. 

Weep  00  more,  woful  She^Jierda  weep  no  more, 
For  Lycidss  your  sorrow  is  not  dead, 
Sunk  though  be  be  beauth  the  watry  floar. 
So  siaks  the  day-icir  in  the  Ocean  bed, 
And  yet  Anon  rrpiirs  hit  droojnng  bod. 
And  tricks  bit  beams,  and  with  i>ew  spangled  Oie, 
FLfnes  in  the  foithead  of  the  mormng  sky : 
So  Lyctdas  sunk  low,  but  mounted  high. 
Through  (be  deaf  mig^t  of  him  that  walk'd  tbe  mm 

»40 


JOHN  MILTON 

Where  other  gro*es,  and  other  streanu  idong, 
With  Nectar  pure  his  oozy  Lock's  he  lares, 
And  hears  the  imexpressive  nuptiall  Song, 
lo  the  hlest  Kingdoms  meek  of  joy  and  Iotc. 
There  eatertaia  him  all  the  Saints  above, 
Id  solemn  troops,  and  sweet  Societies 
That  sing,  and  singing  in  their  glory  more, 
And  wipe  the  tears  for  ever  from  his  eyes. 
Now  Lycidas  the  Shepherds  weep  do  more; 
Hence  forth  thou  art  the  Genius  of  the  shore, 
In  thy  large  recompense,  and  shalt  be  good 
To  all  that  wander  in  that  perilous  flood. 

Thus  sang  the  uncouth  Swain  to  th'Okes  and  rills. 
While  the  still  mom  went  out  with  Sandals  gray, 
He  touch'd  the  tender  stops  of  various  Quills, 
With  eager  thought  warbling  his  Dorick  lay: 
And  now  the  Sun  had  stretch'd  out  all  the  hills, 
And  now  was  dropt  into  the  Western  bay; 
At  last  he  rose,  and  twitch 'd  his  Mantle  blew; 
To  morrow  to  fresh  Woods,  and  Pastures  new. 

S17*      To  the  Lady  Margaret  Ley 

pvAUGHTER  to  that  good  Earl,  once  Preadent 

^-^     Of  Englaods  Counsel,  and  her  Treasury, 
Who  liv'd  in  both,  unstain'd  with  gold  or  fee, 
And  left  them  both,  more  b  himself  content, 

Till  the  sad  breaking  of  that  Parlament 
Broke  him,  as  that  dishonest  victory 
At  Chzronda,  fatal  to  liberty 
Kil'd  with  report  that  Old  man  eloquent, 

Though  later  bom,  then  to  have  known  the  dayes 
Wherin  your  Father  ftourisht,  yet  by  you 


Madam,  mt  thinks  I  art  iura  liriog  }■«] 
So  well  your  words  his  noblr  wrtucs  praiM, 
ThM  all  both  judge  you  to  rcbte  tbem  me, 
And  to  possess  ihtm,  HoDour'd  Harguet. 

On  Hh  Bimtimss 

^^HEN  I  consider  how  my  light  U  spent, 
'^     ll're  half  my  dnys,  ia  lilts  daHc  world  ad  wide. 
And  ihsi  one  Talent  which  is  dcstb  to  bide, 
Lodg'd  with  toe  useless,  tfaovgh  cny  Soul  mun  btu 

To  serrc  tbcrcwiih  my  Maker,  sad  i^ient 
My  true  accouoi,  leAst  he  mumiag  cfakle, 
Doth  God  exact  day-lobaur,  light  deny'd, 
I  fbodly  ask)    Dut  puknce  to  preiuit 

That  murmur,  soon  rcplkrt,  God  doth  not  need 
Either  man's  wutk  or  hi*  own  gifts,  who  hen 
Bear  his  milde  yook,  they  »cT\-e  htm  best,   his  StMe  ^ 

ts  Kingly.     Thousands  at  bis  bidding  speed 
And  poft  o'rc  Land  and  Ooean  without  rest: 
They  jJso  scrre  who  only  stand  and  wnte. 

3lj>.  To  Mr.  LavsrcHce 

I  AWRENCE  of  vcmious  Fatbrr  vertuous  Son, 

"    Now  that  the  Fields  are  dank,  and  ways  ate 
Where  shall  we  wmetimes  meet,  and  by  the  fire 
Help  w>tt  a  sullen  day  |    what  n^  be  woB 

From  the  hard  Season  gaining  i    time  wiQ  nm 
Oo  smoother,  till  Favooiu^  re>inspre 
The  Iroieii  cnrth ;  and  cloth  in  iitsh  attire 
The  Litlic  and  Rose,  that  neither  sow'd  nor  spatt. 

mut  Dcat  repast  shall  feast  ds,  light  and  choice, 
Of  Aitick  last,  with  Wine,  whence  wc  may  riie 


JOHN  MILTON 

To  bar  the  Lae  wdl  tDocbi,  or  stfiiD  race 
WaMc  imnaral  Notes  and  Taskm  Ajre? 

He-  wbo  of  duse  dcEghtS  can  jodg^  ancl  ^acr 

AO    lfllfT|WWC    UkOD    on,    K    DOt   UDWISC. 

J20.  To  Cfriack  ShhauT 

/^YRIACK,  whose  GraodsirE  on  the  RopI  Bendi 

Vi^     OF  Brinish  Tbenus,  vitfa  dd  mean  applaae 
Prooomc't  aad  io  his  tolnmcs  taught  oas  Lawes, 
Whkfa  others  at  their  Barr  so  aften  wrench: 

To  day  deep  thoughts  lestdrc  with  me  to  dieoch 
Id  minh,  that  alter  no  npentiag  diawes; 
Let  Euclid  rest  artd  Archimedes  pause, 
And  what  the  Swede  intend,  umI  vrtiat  the  Fiencb. 

To  nxasore  liie,  leam  thou  betimes,  and  know 
Toward  solid  good  what  leads  the  nearest  wiy; 
For  other  things  mild  Hear'a  a  time  ordains, 

And  disapproTes  that  care,  though  wise  in  show, 
That  with  superfioous  burden  loads  the  day, 
And  when  God  sends  a  cheerful  hour,  re&ains. 

121.  On  His  'Decfased  fTife 

\Jl  ETHOUGHT  I  saw  my  Ute  espoused  Saint 

"*■     Brought  to  me  like  Alceslis  from  the  grave. 
Whom  Joves  great  Sod  to  her  glad  Husband  gave, 
Rescu'd  from  death  by  force  though  pale  and  faiot. 

Mine  as  whom  washt  from  spot  of  child-bed  taint, 
Purification  in  the  old  Law  did  saTe, 
And  such,  as  yet  once  more  I  trvst  to  have 
Pull  sight  of  her  in  Heaven  without  restisint. 

Came  vested  all  in  white,  pure  as  her  mind : 
Her  face  was  vail'd,  yet  to  my  fancied  sight, 

Hi 


JOHN  MILTON 


Loif,  sweetness,  goodness,  in  her  pcraoa  sluoM 
So  dear,  as  in  bo  face  wiih  more  dcllgliL. 
But  O  as  to  embrace  rae  sbe  endin'd 
I  wak*d,  she  fled,  aad  dajr  btw^gbt  back  mj  ni; 

323.  i-igbt 

LJ  AIL  Iwly  light,  ofipirinj  of  Heav'o  ftrst-bom, 
^  *■     Or  of  tb'  Elemul  Coctcnul  beam 
Wvf  I  express  thee  uoblani'd  \  since  God  is  ligli:. 
And  ncter  but  b  luuppraachM  light 
I>wck  ftom  Etcmiiie,  dwelt  then  in  tbec, 
Br^bt  efBucacc  of  bright  c&ieoce  inovMe. 
Or  betr'st  thou  rsthec  pure  Ethereal  stteara. 
Whose  FouDtain  who  shall  vSi\  before  the  Son, 
Before  the  Heavens  thou  wen,  and  at  the  <aioe 
Of  God,  as  unth  a  Mantle  didst  isvnt 
The  rising  world  of  waters  dark  and  deep, 
Won  from  the  void  and  formless  infinite. 
Thee  I  re-ti«it  now  with  bolder  wia^ 
Eitcap't  the  Stygnn  Pool,  thou^  loog  deuia'd 
In  that  obscure  tojoum,  while  in  my  Aight 
Through  utter  and  through  nuddte  dvkness  bone 
With  other  notes  thco  lo  tb'  Orpheao  Lyre 
1  sung  of  CIulos  and  Eiemal  Night, 
Taught  by  the  hmv'nly  Muse  to  tentsre  down 
The  dirk  deitceot,  and  u[i  to  reascetul, 
Though  hard  and  rote:   thee  I  rerisit  safe, 
And  fcei  thy  sotnn  vital  Lamp;   but  thou 
RcHme'ei  not  these  eyes,  that  n>wte  in  Tain 
I'o  find  thy  piercing  ray,  and  lind  do  dawBt 
So  thick  a  drop  serene  hath  ijueacht  thir  Ottit,^ 
Or  dim  suffiision  teild.    Yet  not  the  more 

W4 


kl\l  \ 


JOHN  MILTON 

Cease  I  to  wander  where  the  Muses  haunt 

Cleer  Sptiog,  or  shadie  Grove,  or  Sunnie  Hill, 

Smit  with  the  lore  of  sacred  soog;   but  chief 

Thee  Sion  and  the  flowiie  Brooks  beneath 

That  wash  thy  hallowd  feet,  and  warfalbg  flow, 

Nightly  I  visit ;    nor  somtimes  forget 

Those  other  two  equat'd  with  roe  in  Fate, 

So  were  I  equai'd  with  them  in  renown, 

Blind  Thamyris  and  blind  Masooides, 

And  Tiresias  and  Phineus  Prophets  old. 

Then  feed  on  thoughts,  that  ToJuntarie  move 

Harmonious  numbers  i   as  the  wakeful  Bird 

Sings  darkling,  and  in  shadiest  Covert  hid 

Tones  her  nocturnal  Note.     Thus  with  the  Year 

Seasons  return,  but  not  to  me  returns 

Day,  or  the  sweet  approach  of  Ev'n  or  Mom, 

Or  sight  of  vernal  bloom,  or  Summers  Rose, 

Or  flocks,  or  herds,  or  human  face  divine  [ 

But  cloud  In  stead,  and  ever-during  dark 

Surrounds  me,  from  the  chearfiil  waies  of  men 

Cut  off,  and  for  the  Book  of  knowledg  fair 

Presented  with  a  Universal  blanc 

Of  Natures  works  to  mee  expung'd  and  ras'd. 

And  wisdome  at  one  entrance  quite  shut  out. 

So  much  the  rather  thou  Celestial  light 

Shine  inward,  and  the  mind  through  all  her  powers 

Irradiate,  there  plant  eyes,    all  mist  from  thence 

Purge  and  disperse,  that  I  may  see  and  tell 

Of  things  inviuble  to  mortal  sight. 


MS 


JOHN  MILTON 


From  *  Samson  Agonistes* 

in-  '■ 

OH  how  comely  it  is  and  haw  rcttving 
To  Uir  Spirits  i>r  jest  tncp  long  oppcntl 
Whrn  God  into  tb«  baixU  of  ibir  detimvr 
Puts  tnrbcibic  migbt 

To  quell  tlie  mightjr  of  the  Earth,  th'  oppmwur, 
The  bnile  and  IwUl'rous  fotcc  of  rii^nt  mea 
Hardy  utd  industrious  lo  lufpoct 
TyraDnic  power,  but  ngiag  to  punue 
Tlie  righiroux  nod  all  such  as  hoooor  Traili  t , 
He  »11  thir  Ammunition 
And  f«ts  of  War  defeats 
With  plain  Heroic  Riagiuiude  of  zaaA 
And  celntial  rigour  ann'd, 
Thir  Atmoriea  xaA  Ikfaftauos  conteoiiis, 
Kendifrt  them  tuelen,  while 
With  wingid  expedition 
Swift  at  the  bghtniog  gbnce  Iw  executes 
Hm  cirand  on  the  wicked,  who  suqiris'd 
Low  thir  defence  disuacied  and  ataaz'd* 


ALL  it  be«t,  though  we  oft  doubt, 
^*-     What  th'  unsearchable  dis^M 
Of  highest  urisdom  brioj;*  aboot, 
And  ewT  best  found  tn  the  cIoi& 
Oft  be  Bcenu  to  hide  his  (ace, 
But  unexpectedly  returns 
Aod  to  hit  faithfiil  Champion  hath  in  place 
Bore  witness  glariousiy:    whence  Gaza  mounii 


JOHN  MILTON 

And  all  ibat  band  tfaetn  to  resbt 

His  DocoatRwlaUe  iatenc 

His  Mnacns  he  with  dcw  aoqoisi 

Of  mie  txperimcc  from  (kis  gmt  event 

With  pcMt  lod  Goanlaiioa  hath  dinaist, 

And  cJn  of  iniod  kll  ptSMB  Bptat. 


SIR  JOHN   SUCKLING 

^  'Doubt  of  Martyrtiim 

^~\  FOR  wax  hoont  Iqtct's  ghost, 
^-^     Some  kind  naboditd  \oa. 

Sent  (rom  the  ihada  below  I 

I  straogely  long  to  know 
Whether  the  nebte  cfaaplets  wear 
Tlioic  thx  their  imstms'  Korn  did  bear 

Or  those  that  were  osed  kbdiy. 

For  whatsoe'er  tbejr  tell  or  here 
To  make  those  *ulferinj5  drir, 
Twill  (here,  I  few,  be  fowiil 
That  to  the  bring  ctown'd 
T*  hme  iored  alooe  will  not  suffice, 
Unlsi  we  alio  bare  been  wim 
Aad  hate  our  lores  rojoy'd. 

WhM  posture  can  we  think  bim  in 
Tlut,  bcK  nnloTed,  agsin 
Dtfwts,  and  '•  thhhcr  gone 
Wbm  etch  sits  bf  hia  own! 
Or  haw  can  that  Elysium  be 
WbtK  I  my  misuos  still  niust  we 
Circled  b  other'i  arms? 


&iQ-ia<ii 


SIR  JOHN  SUCKLING 


Fot  Uwi«  \he  jwl£C«  all  are  jusi. 
And  Sophonhba  mast 

Be  his  wboBi  sbc  IwM  dear, 
Not  hi4  who  loml  her  here. 
The  sweet  Philocles,  ance  she  died, 
Lies  by  ber  Ptrodes  his  stde, 
Not  by  Anijibialu*. 

Some  bijrs,  perchaooe,  or  mjrrtlc  bougb 
For  diflcrciicc  crowns  the  brow 
Of  those  kind  souli  that  wert 
The  noble  martyrs  hCT*: 
And  if  that  be  the  noly  odds 
(As  who  cm  tellf),  ye  kinder  gods, 
Give  me  the  woman  here! 

jifi.  The  Constant  Lover 

/^UT  upon  it,  I  hare  land 
^-^     Three  wbi^  days  togciheil 
And  am  Ukc  to  lore  three  more, 
If  it  prore  fail  weather. 

Time  shall  moult  awxy  his  wiiigs 

Ere  he  shnlt  disconr 
lo  the  «bi^c  wide  worid  kgaio 

Such  a  constant  lover. 

Bui  the  s^ie  oq  't  is,  no  |>rai3e 

It  due  at  aD  to  me: 
LoTC  with  me  had  made  no  Stajs, 

Mad  it  soy  been  but  she. 

Had  it  any  been  but  sbc, 

Aitd  that  Tcry  hat. 
There  had  been  at  leau  eie  this 

A  dozen  doien  tn  her  fface. 


SIR  JOHN  SUCKLING 

327.       tVhy  so  Pale  and  JVan  ? 

Vj^HY  so  pale  and  wan,  fond  lover  ? 

**      Prithee,  why  so  pale! 
Will,  when  looking  well  can't  move  her, 
Looking  ill  prevail  *. 
Prithee,  why  so  pale? 

Why  so  dull  and  mute,  young  sinner  J 

Prithee,  why  so  mute  ? 
Will,  when  speaking  well  can't  \nn  her, 

Saying  nothing  do  't ! 

Prithee,  why  so  mute? 

Qut,  quit  for  shame !    This  will  not  move ; 

This  cannot  take  her. 
If  of  herself  she  will  not  love. 

Nothing  can  make  her: 
The  devil  take  her! 

12^.  tVhen,  'Dearest,  I  hat  think  of  Thee 

Vj^HEN,  dearest,  I  but  think  of  thee, 
•*       Methinks  all  things  that  lovely  be 

Are  preseoi,  and  my  soul  delighted : 
For  beauties  that  from  worth  arise 
Are  like  the  grace  of  deities, 

Still  present  with  us,  tho'  unsighted. 

Thus  while  I  sit  and  sigh  the  day 
With  all  his  boirow'd  tights  away, 

Till  night's  black  wings  do  overtake  me. 
Thinking  on  thee,  thy  beauties  then, 
As  sudden  lights  do  sleepy  men, 

So  they  by  their  bright  rays  awake  me. 


SIR  JOHN  SUCKLING 

Tbat  abKDoc  ifies,  uid  dying  pcom 
No  abvoce  oid  suhust  with  to*n 

Thsi  do  pvukc  of  fair  periiKiiM : 
Since  in  ibe  dukeu  nixHt  they  may 
By  love's  quick  modoo  find  a  w>y 

To  see  each  other  by  rcflectiog. 

The  waring  sea  can  with  ca^  flood 
Btthc  some  high  [iromont  tliM  hatb  stood 

Fm  from  ilie  main  up  in  the  ri»cri 
O  thiak  not  Uieo  but  love  can  do 
As  mud) !    for  that 's  in  ocean  too, 

Which  dows  not  every  day,  but  etct ! 


SIR  RICHARD   FANSHAWE 
329.  A  Rose 

i«cit->M6 

DLOWN  ID  the  monsng,  thou  shalt  fade  cte  noua 

'^     What  boots  a  life  which  in  sucb  haste  fonaket  thee '. 

TWi'il  wondtoiis  frotie,  being  to  die  bo  soon, 

And  passtog  proud  a  lililc  colour  make«  thcc. 

If  ihce  thy  brittle  beauty  so  deceits, 

Know  tbcD  the  thing  thai  swelU  thee  is  thy  bane; 

For  the  same  bejuty  doth,  in  bloody  leares, 

The  sentence  of  thy  early  death  coouin. 

Some  clown's  coarse  lungs  will  poUoa  thy  sweet  ilovcr. 

If  by  the  careless  plough  thou  tbalt  be  torn; 

And  many  Hcrodi  lie  io  wait  each  hoar 

To  murdcc  thee  as  sooo  as  tboo  ut  born — 

Nay,  force  thy  bud  to  blow — their  tyrant  hreaih 

Aattcifoting  hi'.-,  to  hasten  death! 


WILLIAM  CARTWRIGHT 
$30.  To  Chhe: 

Who  far    bit   takt   vnibed  heritlf  jotmgtr 

lAli-l&tJ 

T^HERE  are  two  births;   the  one  when  light 
*       First  strikes  the  new  awaken'd  sense; 
The  other  when  two  souls  unite, 

And  we  must  count  our  life  from  thence; 
When  jrou  loTed  me  and  I  lofed  foa 
Then  both  of  us  were  bora  anew. 

Love  then  to  us  new  souls  did  give 
And  in  those  souls  did  plant  new  powers; 

Since  when  another  life  we  lire, 
The  breath  we  breathe  is  his,  not  ours; 

Lore  makes  those  young  whom  age  doth  chill, 

Aod  whom  he  finds  young  keeps  young  still. 

331.  Falsehood 

CTILL  do  the  stars  impart  their  light 
'"^     To  those  that  travel  in  the  night; 
StlU  time  nins  on,  nor  doth  the  hand 
Or  shadow  on  the  dial  stand; 
The  streams  sdll  glide  and  constant  are: 

Only  thy  mind 

Untrue  I  6iid, 

Which  carelessly 

Neglects  to  be 
Like  stream  or  shadow,  hand  or  scar. 

Fool  that  I  am !    I  do  recall 
My  words,  and  swear  thou'rt  like  them  all: 

»■ 


WILLIAM  CARTWRIGHT 

Thoti  kcbi'm  like  txan  to  nosriib  fire^ 
But  O  how  cold  ii  tby  liifwe ! 
And  like  the  hand  upon  the  bna 

Thou  [wint'ei  at  me 

Iq  nwdccty; 

If  I  coiM  nigh 

Shxte-Uke  thmi'It  Ry, 
Aad  ai  the  stmiu  with  ntumiur  pta. 


332.  On  tht  fern's  Return  fmn  the  £( 

Countries 

LJ  ALLOW  Uw  threshold,  crown  th«  potts  «kw(__ 

'  *■     The  day  shall  ha*e  its  due. 
Twin  all  our  victories  bto  one  bn^  wreath, 

On  which  let  honour  brcMhe  1 
Then  throw  it  round  the  temples  of  oar  Qveeal 
'Tu  nbc  that  muit  picterr«  thoie  glodes  green. 

Who)  greater  tempests  than  oo  sea  brfote 

Received  her  on  the  sliore; 
When  Hhe  vras  shot  at  'for  the  Kia^s  own  good' 

By  le);toas  hired  to  blood ) 
How  braivljr  did  she  do,  how  braTvly  bear  \ 
And  show'd,  though  they  durst  raj^,  she  dorst  not  fiur. 

Cour^  was  cast  about  her  like  a  dress 

Of  soJenm  coroelinest : 
A  gather'd  mind  and  an  untroubled  hat 

Kd  xi\-e  her  daoj^rs  grace: 
Thus,  arin'd  with  innocence,  secure  they  more 
Whow  highest  *  umMia '  is  but  bluest  love. 

IP 


WILLIAM  CARTWRIGHT 

jjj.  On  a  yirtuoHs  Toung  Gentlewoman 

that  died  suddenly 

CHE  who  to  Heareo  more  Heaven  doth  annex, 
•^     Whose  lowest  thought  was  above  all  our  sex, 
Accounted  nothing  death  but  t*  be  reprieved, 
And  died  as  free  from  Mckness  as  she  lived. 
Others  are  dragg'd  away,  or  must  be  driveo, 
She  only  saw  her  time  and  stept  to  Heaven ; 
Where  seraphims  view  all  her  glories  o'er, 
As  one  retum'd  that  had  been  there  before. 
For  while  she  did  this  lower  world  adorn. 
Her  body  sccm'd  rather  assumed  than  bom  \ 
So  rariiied,  advanced,  so  [lure  and  whole, 
That  body  might  have  been  another's  sool] 
And  equally  a  miracle  it  were 
That  she  could  die,  or  that  she  could  live  here. 

JAMES  GRAHAM,  MARQUIS  OF  MONTROSE 
ii^    I'll  never  love  Thee  more 


MY  dear  and  only  Love,  I  pray 
That  little  world  of  thee 
Be  govem'd  by  no  other  sway 

Than  purest  monarchy; 
For  if  confusion  have  a  part 

(Which  virtuous  souls  abhor). 
And  hold  a  synod  in  chine  heart, 
111  never  love  thee  more. 

Like  Alexander  I  will  rdgn, 
And  I  wi!!  reign  alone; 

My  thoughts  did  evermore  disdain 
A  rival  on  my  throne. 


itiia-ifijo 


M 


MARQUIS  OF  MONTROSB 

He  atha  fean  fab  fitc  too  much. 

Or  hu  (i«*ertx  aie  snail, 
TbM  dares  not  put  it  (o  tbc  touch, 

To  gaia  or  Iok  ri  all. 

Aad  in  the  cmprc  of  tbinr  bcifl, 

Where  I  should  wlcly  be, 
IT  othen  do  prttead  a  prt 

Or  dare  to  vie  with  me. 
Or  if  Ccmmiiittt  thou  erect, 

And  go  on  socb  a  wan, 
I'll  laugh  and  sing  at  thy  Deglect, 

And  nevct  lore  tbcc  inon. 

But  if  thou  wit  prOTC  faithful  then, 

Aitd  con^ttant  of  thy  woni, 
111  make  thee  glorious  by  my  pen 

And  funous  by  my  n-ord; 
rU  sent  thee  in  such  noble  ways 

Was  never  heard  before; 
III  crov-n  and  deck  tbcc  all  with  hays, 

And  Ion  thee  more  and  roan. 

•raOMAS  JORDAN 
33S.  Cennemus  ms  Hosts  auUfuam 

■fii>l-i(l5j 

T  ET  us  drink  and  be  merry,  dance,  joke^  and 
■^  With  dare*  and  sherry,  theorbo  uxl  voice  1 
The  changeable  world  to  our  joy  is  ddjuo^ 

All  tnsasun's  nootrtno, 

Then  down  with  yovr  dust  I 
lo  frolics  dt^'OM  yoor  pouads,  sbiUiags,  and  pence. 
For  wc  shall  be  nothii^  a  buitdred  years  ikence. 
■H 


THOMAS  JORDAN 

We'll  spoit  aad  be  free  with  Moll,  Betty,  and  Dolly, 
Have  oysters  aad  lobsters  to  cure  melancboly : 
Fish-dioners  will  make  a  man  spring  like  a  flea, 

Dame  Venus,  love's  lady, 

Was  bora  of  the  sea : 
With  her  and  with  Bacchus  we'll  tickle  the  sense, 
For  we  shall  be  past  it  a  hundred  years  hence. 

Your  most  beautiful  bride  who  with  garlands  is  crown'd 
And  kills  with  each  glance  as  she  treads  on  the  ground. 
Whose  lightness  and  brightness  doth  shioe  io  such  splendour 

That  none  but  the  stars 

Are  thought  fit  to  attend  her, 
Though  now  she  be  pleasant  and  sweet  to  the  sense, 
Will  be  damnable  mouldy  a  hundred  years  hence. 

Then  why  should  we  turmcul  in  cares  aod  in  fears, 

Turn  all  our  tranquill'ty  to  sighs  and  to  tears? 

Let's  eat,  drink,  and  play  till  the  worms  do  corrupt  us, 

"Tis  certain,   Poit  marlem 

Nulla  volaflaj. 
For  health,  wealth  and  beauty,  wit,  learning  and  sense. 
Must  all  come  to  nothing  a  hundred  years  hence. 

RICHARD  CRASHAW 

3$^.  ff^ishes  to  His  Supposed  Mistress 

WZ-HOE'ER  she  be— 

'^       That  not  impossible  She 
That  shall  command  my  heart  and  me: 

Where'er  she  lie, 

Lock'd  up  from  mortal  eye 

In  shady  leaves  of  destiny: 


Till  that  ripe  Urth 

Of  studied  Fale  stand  forth, 

And  teich  her  fair  steps  to  our  earth : 


Till  that  divine 
Idea  take  a  shrine 

Of  c*™""'  "•='•    •'rough  which  to  shine : 


1 
A] 


I  wish  her 
That  owes  i 
To  gaudjr  til 


Wishes, 
blisses, 
ly  absent  lasses. 

its  duty 
;list'nng  shoe-tic: 


Something  more  in 
Tai&La  Of  tissue  can, 
Or  rampant  feather,  or  rich  fan. 

A  Face,  that's  best 

By  its  owQ  beauty  drest. 

And  can  alone  coromeod  the  rest. 

A  Face,  made  up 

Out  of  no  other  shop 

Than  what  Nature's  white  hand  sets  ope. 

A  Cheek,  where  youth 

And  blood,  with  pen  of  truth. 

Write  what  the  reader  sweetly  ni'th. 

A  Cheek,  where  grows 
More  than  a  morning  rose, 
Which  to  no  box  his  being  owes. 


«6 


RICHARD  CRASHAW 

Lips,  where  all  day 

A  lover's  kiss  maj  play, 

Yet  cany  uothicig  thence  aw^ 

Looks,  that  oppress 

Their  richest  tires,  but  dress 

And  clothe  their  simplest  nakedness. 

Eyes,  that  displace 

The  neighboui  diamond,  and  outface 

That  sunshine  by  thdr  own  sweet  grace. 

Tresses,  that  wear 

Jewels  but  to  declare 

How  much  themaelves  more  piedous  are: 

Whose  native  ray 

Can  tame  the  wanton  day 

Of  gems  that  in  their  bright  shades  play. 

Each  niby  there, 

Or  pearl  that  dare  appear. 

Be  its  own  blush,  be  its  own  tear. 

A  well -tamed  Heart, 

For  whose  more  noble  smait 

Love  may  be  long  choosing  a  dart. 

Eyes,  that  bestow 

Full  <]uivers  on  love's  bow, 

Yet  pay  less  airows  than  they  owe. 

Smiles,  that  can  warm 

The  blood,  yet  teach  a  chatm. 

That  chastity  shall  uke  no  harm. 

U7 


filusbtra,  that  bin 

The  burnish  of  no  sin, 

Nor  Sanies  of  aughi  too  hoi  widuo. 


Joys,  that  confess 

Virtue  their  mistress. 

And  hare  or  "•-—  hod  to  dress. 

Fears,  fond 
As  the  coy 
First  does  d 

Days,  that  n 
No  part  of  ti 
From  a  fore-£ 

Days,  that  in  spte 

Of  darkness,  by  the  light 

Of  a  clear  mind,  are  day  all  night. 

Nights,  sweet  as  they, 

Made  short  by  lovers'  play, 

Yet  long  by  th'  absence  of  the  day. 

Life,  that  dares  seed 

A  challenge  to  his  end. 

And  when  it  comes,  say,  '  Welcome,  friend  ! ' 

Sydneian  showers 

Of  sweet  discourse,  whose  powers 

Can  crown  old  Winter's  head  with  flowers. 

Soft  silken  hours, 

Open  suns,  shady  bowers ; 

'Bove  all,  nothing  within  thai  lowers. 


3ff 


RICHARD  CRASHAW 

Whate'er  delight 

Can  make  Day's  forehead  bright, 

Or  p?e  down  to  the  wings  of  Night. 

I  wish  her  store 

Of  worth  may  leave  her  poor 

Of  wishes ;    and  I  wish — no  woKw 

Now,  if  Time  knows 

That  Her,  whose  nutiant  brows 

Weave  them  a  gailand  of  my  vows) 

Her,  whose  jnst  bays 

My  future  hopes  can  raise, 

A  trophy  to  her  present  prnsei 

Her,  that  dares  be 

What  these  lines  wish  to  seej 

I  seek  no  furthn',  it  is  She. 

lis  She,  and  here. 

La  I   I  nnctothe  and  dear 

My  Wishes'  cloudy  character. 

May  she  enjoy  it 

Whose  merit  dare  apply  it, 

But  modesty  dares  still  deny  it  I 

Such  worth  as  this'  is 
Shall  fix  my  flying  Wishes, 
And  detemuoe  them  to  kisses. 

Let  her  fiill  glory, 

My  fancies,  fly  before  yet 

Be  ye  my  fictions — but  her  story. 

19 


3^' 


Every  mofn 

TaV"  "P,'""°:^t    m.^e  a  feast, 
^^  ,e  will  weep 

And  1"«  lb"" 

«6» 


RICHARD  CRASHAW 

V/bta  sorrow  would  be  seen 
Id  li«r  brightest  majesty, 

— For  she  is  ■  Quccd — 
Then  is  she  drest  by  nooe  bat  thee: 
Then  and  only  then  she  wears 
Her  richest  peails — I  mean  thy  tears. 

Not  in  the  evening's  eyes, 
When  they  red  with  weeping  are 

For  the  Sun  that  dies, 
Sits  Sorrow  \rith  a  face  so  fair. 

Nowhere  but  here  did  ever  meet 
Sweetness  so  sad,  sadness  so  sweet. 

Does  the  night  arise? 
Still  thy  tears  do  fall  and  fall 

Does  night  lose  her  eyes? 
Still  the  fountain  weeps  for  all. 

Let  day  and  night  do  what  they  will, 
Tbon  hast  thy  task,  thou  weepest  still. 

Not  So  long  ihe  Bvid 
Will  thy  tomb  report  of  thee  { 

But  So  long  tbt  grimeJ: 
Thus  most  we  date  thy  memory. 

Others  by  days,  by  months,  by  years, 
Measure  their  ages,  thou  by  tears. 

Say,  ye  bright  Wthers, 
The  fugitiTe  sons  of  those  fair  eyes 

Your  ihiitfid  mothns. 
What  make  you  here !    What  hopes  can  'tice 
You  10  be  born  ?    Wljat  cause  can  borrow 
You  from  those  nests  of  noble  sorrow  ? 
N3  aS* 


RICHARD  CRASHAW 

Whither  away  so  fasti 
For  sure  the  sordid  earth 

Your  sweetness  c^QOt  taste. 
Nor  does  the  dust  deserve  your  Lnith. 

Sweet,  whither  haste  you  tlieii  ?    O  saj. 
Why  you  trip  so  fast  away  J 


N^. 


1 
1 

JVO    J                                   1 

ji  toe                    \ 

tai  go  to  marl 
•— eur  Z.ard't  feiU 

33S.  A  Hymn  '\t  Name  and  Honour 

of  the  jidmirable  Saint  Teresa 

T  OVE,  thou  art  absolute,  sole  Lord 

■^     Of  life  and  death.     To  prove  the  word, 

We'll  now  appeal  to  none  of  all 

Those  thy  old  soldiers,  great  and  tall, 

Ripe  men  of  maityrdom,   that  could  reach  down 

With  strong  arms  their  triumphaat  crown  : 

Such  as  could  with  lusty  breath 

Speak  loud,   unto  the  face  of  death. 

Their  great   Lord's  glorious  oame  ;    to  none 

Of  those  whose  spacious  bosoms  spread  a  throne 

For  love  at  large  to  611.      Spare  blood  and  sweat: 

We'll  see  Him  take  a  private  seat. 

And  make  His  mansion  u  the  mild 

And  milky  soul  of  a  soft  child. 


RICHARD  CRASHAW 

Scarce  has  she  learnt  ta  lisp  a  name 

Of  martyr,  yet  she  thinks  it  shame 

Life  should  so  long  play  with  that  breath' 

Which  spent  can  buy  so  brave  a  death. 

She  never  undertook  to  know 

What  death  with  Iotc  should  haw  to  do. 

Nor  has  she  e'er  yet  understood 

Why,  to  show  loTe,  she  should  shed  blood; 

Yet,  though  she  cannot  teil  you  why, 

She  can  love,  and  she  can  die. 

Scarce  has  she  blood  enough  to  make 

A  guilty  sword  blush  for  her  sake; 

Yet  has  a  heart  dares  hope  to  prove 

How  much  less  strong  is  death  than  love.  .  .  . 

Since  'tis  not  to  be  had  at  home, 

She'll  travel  for  a  martyrdom. 

No  home  for  her,  confesses  she, 

But  where  she  may  a  martyr  be. 

She'll  to  the  Moors,  and  trade  with  thent- 

For  this  unvalued  diadem ; 

She  olfers  them  her  dearest  bread), 

With  Christ's  name  in  't,  in  change  for  death  I 

She'll  bargain  with  them,   and  will  give 

Them  God,  and  teach  tbem  how  to  live 

In  Him ;  or,  if  they  this  deny, 

Poi  Him  she'll  teach  them  how  to  die. 

So  shall  she  leave  amongst  them  sown 

Her  Lord's  blood,  or  at  least  her  own. 

Farewell  then,  all  the  world,  adieu  I 
Teresa  is  no  more  for  you. 
Farewell  all  pleasures,  sports,  and  joys. 
Never  till  now  esteemed  toys ! 

103 


RICHARD  CRASHAW 


Farewell  whatever  dear  may  be — 
Mother's  anns,  or  father's  knee ! 
Farewell  house,   and  farewell   home ! 
She's  for  the  Moors  and  ManyrdDin. 

Sweet,  not  so  fast ;  lo  !  thy  fair  spouse. 
Whom  thou  scck'st  with  so  swift  vows, 
CalL*    ■       ■     ■  ■  bids  thet  come 

T'  ■  martyrdom.  .  .  . 

O  ho„ 
Of  a 
Of  i 
Of  a 
Loves  .._ 
And  wDuii^  ., 
And  lives  ana 
To  live,  but  the 


lu  complain 
tie  pain! 

:h  who  dies 
d  dies  again, 

so  be  slain ; 

and  knows  not  why 
:  still  may  die  I 


How  kindly  will  thy  gentle  heart 
Kiss  the  sweetly- killing  dart ! 
And  close  in  his  embraces  keep 
Those  delicious  wounds,   that  weep 
Balsam,   to  heal  themselves  with  thus. 
When  these  thy  deaths,   so  numerous, 
Shall  all  at  once  die  into  one, 
And  melt  thy  soul's  sweet  mansion ; 
Like  a  soft  lump  of  incense,  hasted 
By  too  hot  a  Irre,  and  wasted 
Into  perfuming  clouds,   so  fast 
Shalt  thou  exhale  to  heaven  at  last 
la  a  resolving  sigh,   and  then, — 
0  what  ?    Ask  not  the  tongues  of  men. 

Angels  cannot  tell ;    suffice, 

Thyself  shalt  feel  thine  own  full  joys, 


je< 


RICHARD  CRASHAW 

And  hold  them  fast  for  erer  there. 

So  soon  as  thou  shalt  first  appear, 

The  moon  of  maiden  stars,  thy  white 

Mistress,  attended  by  such  bright 

Souls  as  thjr  shiaing  self,  shall  come, 

And  ia  her  first  ranks  make  thee  room) 

Where,  'moDgst  her  snowy  family. 

Immortal  welcomes  wait  for  thee. 

0  what  delight,  when  she  shall  stand 

And  teach  thy  lips  heaven,  with  her  hand,  . 

On  which  thou  now  may'st  to  thy  wishes 

Heap  up  thy  consecrated  kisses ! 

What  joy  shall  seize  thy  soul,  when  she. 

Bending  her  blessed  eyes  on  thee, 

Those  second  smiles  of  heaven,  shall  dart 

Her  mild  ra^  through  thy  melting  heart! 

Angela,  thy  old  friends,  there  shall  greet  thee, 

Glad  at  their  own  home  now  to  meet  thee. 

All  thy  good  works  which  went  before. 

And  waited  for  thee  at  the  door, 

Shall  own  thee  there ;  and  all  m  one 

Weave  ■  constellatioa 

Of  crowns,  with  which  the  King,  thy  spouse, 

Shall  build  up  thy  triumphant  brows. 

All  thy  old  woes  shall  now  smile  on  thee. 

And  thy  pains  sit  bright  upon  thee  i 

All  thy  sorrows  here  shall  shine. 

And  thy  sufferings  be  divine. 

Tears  shall  take  comfort,  and  turn  gems. 

And  wrongs  repent  to  diadems. 

Even  thy  deaths  shall  live,  and  new 

Dress  the  soul  which  late  they  slew. 


RICHARD  CRASHAW 

Thy  wounds  shall  blush  to  Euch  bright  scan 
As  keep  account  of  the  Lamb's  wars. 

Those  rare  works,   where  thou  shalt  leave  writ 
Love's   noble  history,   with  wil 
Taught  thee  by  none  but  Him,  while  here 
They  feed  our  souls,  shall  clothe  tlune  there- 
Each  heavenly  word  by  whose  hid  flame 
Our  hard  hearts  shall  strike  fire,  the  same 
Shall  flourish  on  thy  brows,   and  be 
Both  fire  to  us  and  flame  lo  ihee  { 
Whose  light  shall  live  bright  in  thy  face 
By  glory,  in  our  hearts  by  grace. 
Thou  shalt  look  round  about,  and  see 
Thousands  of  crown'd  souls  throng  to  be 
Themselves  thy  crown,   sons  of  thy  vows. 
The  virgin -births  with  which  thy  spouse 
Made  fruitful   thy  fair  soul ;   go  now. 
And  with  them  all  about  thee  bow 
To  Him;   put  on.  He'll  say,  put  on. 


RICHARD  CRASHAW 

33p.    Upon  the  Book  and  'Picture  of  the 
Seraphkal  Saint  Teresa 

r^  THOU  imdamited  (kaghter  of  desires ! 

^^     By  all  thy  dower  of  lights  and  fires; 

By  all  the  eagle  in  thee,  all  the  dove; 

By  all  thy  lives  and  deaths  of  love ; 

By  thy  large  draughts  of  intellectual  day, 

And  by  tby  thirsts  of  love  more  large  than  they; 

By  all  thy  brim-fill'd  bowls  of  fierce  desire^ 

By  thy  last  rnomiog's  draught  of  liquid  fire; 

By  the  full  kingdom  of  that  final  kiss 

That  seized  thy  parting  sonl,  and  seal'd  thee  His ; 

By  all  the  Hear'n  thon  hast  in  Him 

(Fair  sister  of  the  seraphim!); 

By  all  of  Him  we  have  in  thee ; 

LeftTC  nothing  of  myself  in  me. 

Let  me  so  read  thy  life,  that  I 

Unto  all  life  of  mine  may  die ! 

$^0.  Verses  from  the  Shepherds'  Hymn 

"VW'E  saw  Thee  in  Thy  balmy  nest, 
"^     Young  dawn  of  our  eternal  day ; 
We  saw  Thine  eyes  break  from  the  East, 

And  chase  the  tmnbling  shades  away: 
We  saw  Thee,  and  we  blest  the  sight, 
We  saw  Thee  by  Thine  own  sweet  light- 
Poor  world,  said  I,  what  wik  thou  do 

To  entertain  this  starry  stranger  J 
Is  thb  the  best  thou  canst  bestow — 

A  cold  and  not  too  cleanly  manger' 

■4 


RICHARD  CRASHAW 

CoR'.ead,  ihe  |<awers  of  benen  tod  canb, 
To  fit  a  bed  for  this  huge  binfa. 

Proud  vorld,  said  I,  cme  your  cootcM, 
And  let  the  mighty  babe  bIom  i 

Th«  I'hToix  builds  the  phcrdx'  nen, 
Lore's  architecture  b  Hi*  own. 

The  lahc,  whow  binh  tmbnvea  thn  monul 

Made  His  own  bed  ere  He  wu  bora. 

I  »w  the  cnrl'd  drops,  soft  utd  slow, 
Come  hoveruig  o'er  the  placed  bead, 

OfTrinj;  thdr  whitest  sheets  of  now, 
To  famish  the  fair  iafitnt's  bed. 

Fotheor,  nid  I,  be  not  too  boU; 

Yonr  ec«oe  i»  white,  but  'tis  too  coid. 

I  saw  tb'  obsequious  cenphiin 
Tbdr  rosy  fleece  of  fire  bestow. 

For  well  they  now  can  spare  their  wings, 
Since  Heaven  itself  lies  here  bdow. 

Wdl  done,  said  Ij  but  arc  you  sure 

Yonr  down,  so  waim,  will  pass  for  pure  t 

No,  no,  your  Kiog's  not  yet  to  seek 
Where  to  repose  Hin  royal  head ; 

See,  see  bow  soon  His  ncw^bloooi'd  cheek 
Twixt  mother's  breasts  is  gow  to  bed ! 

Sweet  choice,  said  vt;    do  way  but  SO, 

Not  to  lie  cold,  j-et  sleep  in  snow! 

She  sings  Thy  tnrs  aslecfy  and  dipt 
Her  kisses  in  Thy  wcQaog  eye; 

She  i^ircads  the  red  lw«S  of  "Hiy  I^ 
That  in  ihdr  buds  yet  bloshing  lis. 


RICHARD  CRASHAW 

She  'gainst  those  mother  diamonda  tries 
The  points  of  her  young  eagle's  eyes. 

Welcome — tho'  not  to  those  gay  flies, 
Gilded  i'  th'  beams  of  earthly  kings, 

Slippery  souls  in  smiling  eyes — 

But  to  poor  shepherds,  homespun  things, 

Whose  imlth  's  their  flocks,  whose  wit  *s  to  be 

Well  read  in  their  simplicity. 

Yet,  when  young  April's  husband  show*ra 
Shall  bless  the  fruitful  Mua's  bed. 

We'll  bring  the  first-born  of  her  flowers, 
To  kiss  Thy  feet  and  crown  Thy  head. 

To  Thee,  dread  Lamb  I    whose  lofe  must  keep 

The  shepherds  while  they  feed  their  sheep. 

To  Thee,  meek  Majesty,  soft  King 
Of  simple  graces  and  sweet  loves  t 

Each  of  us  his  lamb  will  bring, 
Each  his  pair  of  ^ver  doves! 

At  last,  in  fire  of  Thy  fair  eyes, 

Ourselres  become  oui  own  best  sacrifice  1 


34t.  Christ  Crucified 

'  I  'HY  restless  feet  now  cannot  go 
■^     For  us  and  our  eternal  good. 
As  they  were  ever  woot.    What  though 
They  swim,  ilas  I    in  thor  own  flood  I 

Thy  hands  to  give  Thou  canst  not  lift, 
Yet  will  Thy  hand  still  giving  be; 

It  ^ves,  but  O,  itself 's  the  giitl 

It  gives  tho'  bound,  tho'  bound  'tis  free! 


RICHARD  CRASHAW 
S42.  An  Epitaph  upm  Husband  and  ff^ife 

Who  died  and  lacrc  iuried  Iqgelher. 

*  I  "'O  those  wbom  death  agaio  did  wed 
■*■    This  grave  's  the  second  mamage-bed. 
For  though  the  hand  of  Fate  could  force 
'Twixt  soul  and  body  a  divorce, 
It  could  not  sever  man  and  wife, 
Because  they  both  lived  but  one  lifc. 
Peace,  good  reader,  do  not  weep; 
Peace,  the  lovers  arc  asleep. 
They,   sweet  turtles,  folded  lie 
In  the  last  knot  that  love  could  tie. 
Let  them  sleep,  let  theni  sleep  oa, 
Till  the  stormy  night  be  gone, 
And  the  eternal  morrow  dawn ; 
Then  the  eurtabs  will  be  drawn, 
And  they  wake  into  a  light 
Whose  day  shall  never  die  in  night. 


RICHARD  LOVELACE 

Yet  this  inconstancy  is  such 

As  thoD  too  shalt  adore ; 
I  could  not  love  thee.  Dear,  so  much, 

LoTed  I  not  Honour  more. 


S44.  To  Zticajta,  going  beyond  the  Seas 

TF  to  be  absent  were  to  be 
^     Away  from  thee; 
Or  that  when  I  am  gone 
You  or  I  were  alone ; 
Then,  my  Lucasta,  might  I  crave 
Pity  from  blusteriag  wind  or  swallowing  wave. 

But  I'll  not  sigh  one  Uast  or  gale 
To  swell  my  swl, 
Or  pay  a  tear  to  'suage 
The  foaming  blue  god's  rage; 
For  whether  he  will  let  me  pass 
Or  no,  I'm  still  as  happy  as  I  was. 

Though  seas  and  land  betwixt  us  both, 
Our  faith  and  troth, 
Like  separated  souls, 
AH  lime  and  space  controls ; 
Above  the  highest  sphere  we  meet 
Unseen,  unknown;    and  greet  as  Angels  greet. 

So  then  we  do  anticipate 
Our  after-fate, 
And  are  alive  i'  the  slues, 
If  thus  our  lips  and  eyes 
Can  speak  like  S[nnts  uncooSned 
In  Heaven,  their  earthy  bodies  left  behind. 


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Every  "fXl^-*;S' 


RICHARD  LOVELACE 

Do  not  then  wind  op  that  light 

Is  tibbuds,  and  o'ercloud  m  night, 

Like  the  Sun  in  's  early  ray ; 

But  shake  your  head,  and  scatter  day  I 

347.  The  Grasshopper 

OTHOU  that  swiog'st  upon  the  waring  \aat 
Of  some  well-fitl^  oaten  beard. 
Drunk  every  night  with  a  delicious  tear 

Dropt  thee  from  heaven,  where  thou  wen  rear'd ! 

The  joys  of  earth  and  air  are  thine  entire, 

That  with  thy  feet  and  wings  dost  hop  and  fly; 

And  when  thy  poppy  works,  thon  dost  retire 
To  thy  carved  acom-bed  to  lie. 

Up  with  the  day,  the  Sun  thou  welcom'st  then, 
Sport'st  in  the  gilt  plaita  of  his  beams, 

And  all  these  merry  days  mak'st  merry  men, 
Thyself,  and  melancholy  streams. 

348.  To  Ahhea,  from  'Prison 

^^THEN  Love  with  unconfinfid  wings 

'^     Hovers  within  my  gates, 
And  my  divine  Althea  brings 

To  whisper  at  the  graces ; 
When  I  lie  tangled  in  her  hair 

And  fettcr'd  to  her  eye. 
The  Urds  that  wanton  in  the  dr 

Know  no  such  liberty. 

When  flowing  cups  run  swiftly  round 
With  no  allaying  Thames, 

IS 


,6ifr->' 


H?' 


ABRAHAM  COWLEY 

The  sea  itself  (which  oae  would  think 
Should  have  but  little  need  of  diinVy 
Drinks  twice  tea  thousand  rivers  up, 
So  fill'd  that  they  o'erfiow  the  cup. 
The  busy  Sun  (and  one  would  guess 
By  's  dninken  fiery  face  DO  less) 
Drinks  up  the  sea,  and  when  he 's  done, 
The  Moon  and  Stars  drink  up  the  Sun: 
They  drink  and  dance  by  their  own  light. 
They  drink  and  revel  ail  the  night; 
Nothing  in  Nature's  sober  found. 
But  an  eternal  health  goes  round. 
Fill  up  the  bowl,  then,  fill  it  high, 
Fill  all  the  glasses  there— for  why 
Should  every  creature  drink  but  I? 
Why,  man  of  morals,  tell  me  why? 

3f0.  2.    Tht  Eficart 

T  TNDERNEATH  this  myrtle  shade, 
^^      On  flowery  beds  supinely  laid, 
With  odorous  oils  my  head  o'eiflowing, 
And  around  it  roses  growing, 
What  should  I  do  but  drink  away 
The  heat  and  troubles  of  the  day  ? 
Is  this  more  than  kingty  state 
Love  himself  on  me  shall  wait. 
Fill  to  me,  Love!   my,  fill  it  up! 
And  mingled  cast  into  the  cup 
Wit  and  mirth  and  noble  fires, 
Vigorous  health  and  gay  desires. 
The  wheel  of  life  no  less  will  stay 
In  a  smooth  than  rugged  way : 

SB 


ABRAHAM  COWLEY 

Since  it  e^ualljr  doth  flee, 
Let  the  motion  ]ileaS3Ut  be. 
Why  do  we  precious  ointments  sbowrr  ?- 
Noblcc  wines  why  do  we  pour ! — 
Beauteous  flowers  why  do  we  spread 
Upon  the  monuments  of  the  dead ! 
Nothing  they  but  dust  can  show. 
Or  bones  that  hasten  to  be  bo. 
Crown  me  with  roaes  while  I  live, 
Now  your  wines  and  ointments  givcf 
After  death   I  nothing  crave, 
Let  mc  alive  my  pleasures  liave; 
All  aie  Stoics  in  the  grave, 

3ft.  3.   The  Swallow 

■pOOLISH  prater,  what  dost  thou 
■*■      So  early  at  my  window  do  ? 
Cruel  bird,  thou'st  ta'en  away 
A  dream  out  of  my  arms  to-day  [ 
A  dream  that  ne'er  must  equall'd  be 
By  all  that  waking  eyes  may  see. 
Thou  this  damage  to  repair 
Nothing  half  so  sweet  and  fair. 
Nothing  half  50  good,  canst  bring, 
Tho'  men  say  thou  Imng'st  the  Spring. 

i^2.  On  the  'Death  of  Mr.  ff^illiam  He 

TT  was  a  dismal  and  a  fearful  night: 

Scarce  could  the  Mom  drive  on  th'  unwilling 

When  Sleep,   Death's  image,   left  my  troubled  hn 
By  something  Ulcer  Death  possest. 
»« 


ABRAHAM  COWLEY 

My  eyes  with  tears  did  UDConmunded  flow, 

And  on  my  soul  hung  the  doll  wnght 
Of  sonw  intoler^e  fctc. 

What  bell  was  that  >     Ah  me  1  too  much  I  know  I 

My  sweet  companioa  and  my  gentle  peer. 
Why  hast  thou  left  me  thus  unkindly  here, 
Thy  end  for  ever  and  ray  life  to  moan! 

O,  thou  hast  left  me  all  alone ! 
Thy  soul  and  body,  when  death's  agony 
Besieged  around  thy  n<Me  heart, 
Did  not  with  more  reluctance  part 
Than  I,  my  dearest  Friend,  do  part  from  thee. 

My  dearest  Friend,  wotild  I  had  died  for  theel 
Life  and  this  world  henceforth  will  tedious  be: 
Nor  shall  I  know  hereafter  what  to  do 

If  once  my  griefs  prove  tedious  too. 
Silent  and  sad  I  walk  about  all  day, 

As  sullen  ghosts  stalk  speechless  by 

Where  their  hid  treasures  lie ; 
Alas  J   my  treasure's  gone;   why  do  I  stay? 

Say,  for  you  saw  us,  ye  immortal  lights, 
How  oft  unwearied  have  we  spent  the  niglits, 
Till  the  Ledxan  stars,  so  famed  for  love, 

Wonder'd  at  us  from  above! 
We  spent  them  not  in  toys,  jo  lusts,  or  wine; 

But  search  of  deep  Philosophy, 

Wit,  Eloquence,  and  Poetry — 
Arts  which  I  loved,  for  they,  my  Friend,  were  thine. 

Ye  fields  of  CamtHidge,  our  dear  Cambridge,  say 
Have  ye  not  seen  us  walking  every  day  i 

SJ7 


ABRAHAM  COWLEY 

Was  there  a  tree  about  which  did  not  IcDOW 

The  love  betwixt  us  two ! 

Henceforth,  ye  gentle  trees,  for  ever  fade; 
Or  your  sad  branches  thicker  join 

And  into  darksome  shades  combine. 
Dark  as  the  grave  wherein  my  Friend  is  laid  I 

Large  was  his  soul ;  as  large  a  soul  as  e'er 

Submitted  to  inrorm  a  body  here ; 

High  as  the  place  'twas  shortly  in  Heaven  to  hare, 

But  low  and  humble  as  his  grave. 
So  high  that  all  the  virtues  there  did  come. 

As  to  their  chicfest  seat 

Conspicuous  and  great; 
So  low,  that  for  me  too  it  made  a  room. 

Knowledge  he  only  sought,  and  so  soon  caught 
As  if  for  bira  Knowledge  bad  rather  sought ; 
Nor  did  more  learning  ever  crowded  lie 

In  such  a  short  mortalitv 


ABRAHAM  COWLEY 

With  as  mocb  zeal,  devotion,  pttj, 
He  always  llTcd,  as  other  saints  do  die. 
Still  with  his  soul  severe  account  he  kept, 
Weeping  all  debts  out  ere  he  slept. 
Then  down  in  peace  and  innocence  he  by. 
Like  the  Sun's  laborious  light, 
Which  still  ia  water  sets  at  night, 
Unsullied  with  bis  journey  of  the  day. 

But  happy  Thou,  ta'en  from  this  frantic  age, 

Where  ignorance  and  hypocrisy  does  rage ! 

A  fitter  lime  for  Hearen  no  soul  e'er  chose — 
The  place  now  only  free  from  those. 

There  'mong  the  blest  thou  dost  for  ever  shine; 
And  wheresoc'er  thou  casts  thy  view 
Upon  that  white  and  radiant  crew, 

See'st  not  a  soul  clothed  with  more  light  than  thJne. 


sn-  The  Wish 

■yVT'ELL  then  1   I  now  do  plainly  sec 

"^     This  busy  world  and  I  shall  ne'er  agree. 
The  very  honey  of  all  earthly  joy 
Does  of  all  meats  the  soonest  cloy ; 

And  they,  methinks,  deserve  my  pity 
Who  for  it  can  endure  the  stings, 
The  crowd  and  buzz  and  munnurings, 

Of  this  great  hive,  the  city. 

Ah,  yet,  ere  I  descend  to  the  grave 
May  I  a  small  house  and  large  garden  have; 
And  a  few  friends,  and  many  books,  both  tnie, 
Bo^  wise,  ind  both  delightful  too ! 

n9 


ABRAHAM  COWLEY 

And  since  love  ne'er  will  from  me  See, 
A  Mistress  moderately  fair, 
Aod  good  3s  guardiaa  angels  are, 

Only  beloved  and  loving  me. 

O  fountains  1   when  in  yon  shall  I 

Myself  eased  of  unpeacefiil  thoughts  espy  f 

O  fields  !  O  woods !   when,  when  shall  I  be  made 

The  happy  tenant  of  your  shade ! 

Here's  the  spriog-head  of  Pleasuie's  Sood: 
Here 's  wealthy  Nature's  treasury, 
Wheie  all  the  riches  lie  that  she 

Has  coin'd  and  stanip'd  for  good. 

Pride  and  ambition  here 

Only  in  far-fetcb'd  metaphors  appear! 

Here  nought  but  winds  can  hunfiil  murmurs  scatter, 

And  nought  but  Echo  flatter. 

The  gods,  when  they  descended,  hither 
From  heaven  did  always  choose  their  way  s 


ALEXANDER  BROME 

Syd.  The  Res)lve 

'T'ELL  me  not  of  a  face  that 's  (air, 
'''    Nor  lip  and  cheek  that 's  red, 
Nor  of  the  trcssca  of  her  hair, 

Nor  curls  in  order  laid, 
Nor  of  a  rare  seraphic  vmce 

That  like  an  angcl  sings; 
Though  if  I  were  to  take  my  ch<»ce 

I  would  have  all  these  things : 
But  if  that  thou  wilt  have  me  lore, 

And  it  must  be  a  she, 
The  only  argument  can  move 

Is  that  she  will  love  me. 

The  glories  of  your  ladies  be 

But  metaphors  of  things. 
And  but  resemble  what  we  see 

Each  common  object  brings, 
Roses  out-red  thrir  lips  and  cheeks, 

Lilies  their  whiteness  stain; 
What  fool  is  be  that  shadows  seeks 

And  may  the  substance  gala  \ 
Then  if  thou'jt  have  me  love  a  lass, 

Let  it  be  ooe  that's  kind: 
Else  I'm  a  servant  to  the  glass 

That's  with  Canary  lined. 


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ANDREW  MARVELL 

Tis  madness  to  resist  or  blame 
The  face  of  angry  Heaven's  flame  t 

And  if  we  would  speak  tnie, 

Much  to  the  man  is  (hie, 

Who,  from  his  prirate  gardens,  where 
He  lived  reserrld  and  austere 

(As  if  his  highest  plot 

To  plant  the  bergamot), 

Could  by  industrious  valour  climb 
To  Tuia  the  great  work  of  time. 

And  cast  the  Kingdoms  old 

Into  another  mould ; 

Though  Justice  agauist  Pate  comjdain, 
And  plead  the  ancient  rights  in  vain — 
But  those  do  hold  or  break 
As  men  are  strong  or  weak — 

Nature,  that  hateth  empdness, 

Allows  of  penetration  less, 

And  therefore  must  make  room 
Where  greater  sjnitts  come. 

What  field  of  aU  the  civil  war 
Where  his  were  not  the  deepest  scar? 

And  Hampton  shows  what  part 

He  had  of  wiser  an ; 

Where,  twining  subtle  fears  with  hope, 
He  wove  a  net  of  such  a  scope 

That  Charles  himself  might  chase 
To  Caresbrooke's  narrow  case; 

1^ 


I 


ANDREW  MARVELL 


That  thence  the  Royal  actor  borne 
The  tragic  scaffold  might  adorn ; 
While  round  the  armed   bands 
Did  dap  theii  bloody  htiiids. 

He  nothing  common  did  or  mean 
Upon  that  memorable  scene, 
teener  eye 
e  did  try; 


> 

,  with  vulgar  sjnte, 

T. 

Ipless  right ; 
comely  head 

i^u 

1  a  bed. 

This  was  tl  lorahle  hour 

Which  first  •  the  forcM  power! 

So  when  tncy  did  design 

The  Capitol's  first  line, 

A  Bleeding  Head,   where  they  begun, 
Did  fright  the  architects  to  run  ; 

And  yet  in  that  the   Stale 

Foresaw  its  happy  fate ! 

And  now  the  Irish  are  ashamed 
To  see  themselves  in  one  year  tamed : 
So  much  one  man  can  do 
That  does  both  act  and  know. 

They  can  affirm  his  praises  best, 
And  have,   though  overcome,   confest 
How  good  he  is,  how  just 
And  fit  for  highest  trust. 


jSi 


ANDREW  MARVELL 

Nor  yet  grown  stit&r  with  commaDd, 
But  still  in  the  republic's  hand — 

How  fit  he  is  to  sway 

That  can  so  well  obey ! 

He  to  the  CominoDs'  feet  presents 
A  Kingdom  for  his  first  year's  lents, 
And,  what  he  may,  forbears 
His  fame,  to  make  it  thnra: 

And  has  his  sword  and  spoils  ungin 
To  lay  them  at  the  public's  skirt. 
So  when  the  falcon  hi^h 
Falls  heavy  from  the  sky, 

She,  having  Idll'd,  no  more  doth  search 
But  OD  the  next  green  bough  to  perch ; 
Where,  whea  he  first  does  lure. 
The  falconer  has  her  sure. 

What  may  not  then  our  Isle  presume 
While  victory  hb  crest  does  plume? 
What  may  not  others  fear, 
If  thus  he  crowns  each  year ! 

As  Czsar  be,  ere  long,  to  Gaul, 
To  Italy  an  Hannibal, 

And  to  all  States  not  free 

Shall  climacteric  be. 

The  Pict  no  shelter  now  shall  find 

Within  his  particoJour'd  mind. 
But,  from  this  valour,  sad 
Shrink  uodemeatb  the  plaid  j 

O  3t5 


NDREW  MARVELL 

Hap        if  in  the  tufted  brake 
Tte     inglish  hunter  him  mistake, 

J  Jor  lay  his  hounds  in  near 

The  CaledomaD  deer. 

But  thou,  the  war's  and  foitune's  sun, 

March  indefatissbly  on; 

And  for  "ict, 

Stili  keep  t  creel ; 


m 


Ji.  jxivi 


to  Irigbl 
r  night, 
I  did  gain 
muniain. 


iJ-tf- 


j^  Garden 


WrUlen  after  the   Civil  IVart 

CEE  how  the  flowers,   as  at  parade, 

'^      Under  their  colours  stand  dis])lay'd; 

Each  regiment  in  order  grows. 

That  of  the  tulip,  piak,  and  rose. 

But  when  the  vigilant  patrol 

Of  stars  walks  round  about  the  pole, 

Their  leaves,  that  to  the  stalks  are  curl'd. 

Seem  to  their  slaves  the  ensigns  furl'd. 

Then  io  some  flower's  beloved  hut 

Each  bee,   as  sentinel,   is  shut. 

And  sleeps  so  too  ;    but  if  once  stirr'd, 

She  ruDS  you  through,  nor  asks  the  word. 


SM 


ANDREW  MARVELL 

O  thou,  that  dear  and  happy  Isle, 
The  garden  of  the  world  erewhile, 
Thou  Paradise  of  the  four  seas 
Which  Heaven  planted  us  to  please, 
fiui,  to  exdude  the  world,  did  guard 
With  wat'ry  if  not  flaming  sword ; 
What  lucldess  apple  did  we  taste 
To  nuke  us  mortal  and  thee  waste  1 
Unhappy!   shall  we  never  more 
That  sweet  militia  restore, 
When  gardens  only  had  their  towers, 
And  all  the  garrisons  were  flowers ; 
When  roses  only  arms  might  bear. 
And  men  did  rosy  garlands  vrtaii 


ST7.  To  His  Coy  Mistress 

LJAD  we  but  world  enough,  and  time, 
^  ^      This  coyness,  Lady,  were  no  crime 
We  would  sit  down  and  think  which  way 
To  walk  and  pass  our  long  love's  day. 
Thou  by  the  Indian  Ganges'  side 
Shouldst  rubies  iind:    I  by  the  tide 
Of  Humbet  would  complain.     I  would 
Love  you  ten  years  before  the  Flood, 
And  you  should,  if  you  please,  refiise 
Till  the  conversion  of  the  Jews. 
My  vegetable  love  should  giow 
Vaster  than  empires,  and  more  slow; 
An  hundred  years  should  go  to  praise 
Thioe  eyes  and  on  thy  forehead  gaze ; 

14 


I 


ANDREW  MARVELL 


Two  buodred  to  adore  each  breast, 

But  thirty  thousand  to  the  rest; 

An  age  at  least  to  every  pan. 

And  the  last  age  should  show  your  heait. 

For,  Lady,  you  deserve  this  state. 

Nor  would  I  love  at  lower  rate. 

But  11  mo  Kurt   I   always  hear 
Tim  :  hurrying  near; 

Ana  r  us  lie 

DeS'TT^'^  ty. 

Thj  more  be  found. 

Nor,  lult,   shall   sound 

My         >iu^  ea  womia  shall  tiy 

That  long  pit  'irginity. 

And  your  qua  lur  turn  to  dust, 

And  into  ashes  y  lust: 

The  grave  's  a  fine  and  private  place, 
But  none,   I  think,   do   there  embrace. 

Now  therefore,   while  the  youthful  hue 
Sits  on  thy  skin  like  morning  dew, 
And  while  thy  willing  soul  transpires 
At  every  pore  with  instant  fires, 
Now  let  us  sport  us  while  we  may, 
And  now,   like  amorous  birds  of  prey, 
Rather  at  once  our  time  devour 
Than  languish  in  his  slow-chapt  power. 
Let  us  roll  all  our  strength  and  all 
Our  sweetness  up  into  one  ball, 
And  tear  our  pleasures  with  rough  strife 
Thorough  the  iron  gates  of  life : 
Thus,  though  we  cannot  make  our  sun 
Stand  slill,   yet  we  will  make  him  ruo. 
ilow-chapt]  slow-jawed,  slowly  devouring. 


ANDREW  MARVELL 

3SS-    The  Tkture  of  Little  T.  C  in  a 
Prospect  of  Flowers 

CEE  vith  what  sinii^dly 
'^     This  nymph  be^ns  her  golden  days  I 
In  the  green  grass  she  loves  to  lie, 
And  there  with  her  fair  aspect  tames 
The  wilder  flowers,  and  gives  them  names; 
But  only  with  the  roses  pUys, 

And  them  does  tell 
What  colour  best  becomes  them,  and  what  sraelli 

Who  can  foretell  for  what  high  cause 
This  darling  of  the  gods  was  bom  ? 
Yet  this  is  she  whose  chaster  laws 
The  wanton  Low  shall  one  day  fear, 
And,  under  her  command  severe. 
See  his  bow  broke  and  ensigns  torn. 
Happy  who  can 
Appease  this  virtuous  enemy  of  man ! 

O  then  let  me  in  time  compound 
And  parley  with  those  conquering  eyes, 
Ere  they  have  tried  their  force  to  wound; 
Ere  with  their  glancing  wheels  they  driie 
In  triumph  over  hearts  that  strive, 

And  them  that  yield  but  more  despise: 
Let  me  be  laid, 
Where  I  may  sec  the  glories  from  some  shade. 

Meantime,  whilst  every  verdant  thing 
Itself  does  at  thy  beauty  charm, 

•■9 


^Jj^^^^H 

ANDREW  MARVELL               ^H 

Refomi  the  erron  of  the  Spring  j              ^^^| 

JA-Ac  that  the  tulips  may  hare  shsic                 ^^^H 

Of  sweetness,  seeing  they  are  fair,                      ^^^H 

And  roses  of  ihdr  tboms  disarm ;                  ^^^| 

But  most  procure             ^^^| 

That  violets  may  a  longer  age  endure.                    ^^^H 

But  O,  foi             1 

ty  of  the  woods,           ^^^B 

Whom  Natuiv 

with  fruits  and  flowers,      ^B 

Gather  thp 

but  space  the  buds  i              M 

Lest  Flora,  anj                i 

f  crime                                   ■ 

To  lull  her  inf- 

leir  prime,                      ^^^fl 

Do  quickly  n 

example  yours ;             ^^^H 

nd  ere  we  see,                ^^^B 

Nip  in  the  blossom 

hopes  and  thee.                   H 

^^    1 

i                1 

jfp.  Thoughts  in  a  Garden 

IJOW  vainly  men  themselves  amaze 
■*■  ■*■     To  win  the  palm,  the  oak,  or  bays, 
And  their  incessant  labours  see 
Crown'd  from  some  single  herb  or  tree, 
Whose  short  and  narrow-vergSd  shade 
Does  prudently  their  toils  upbraid ; 
While  all  the  flowers  and  trees  do  close 
To  weave  the  garlands  of  repose ! 


Fair  Quiet,  have  I  found  thee  here. 
And  Innocence  thy  sister  dear  ? 
Mistaken  long,  I  sought  you  then 
In  busy  companies  of  men : 
350 


ANDREW  MARVELL 

Vour  uored  plants,  if  here  below, 
Only  among  the  planes  will  growi 
Society  is  all  but  rude 
To  this  delicious  solitude. 

No  white  nor  red  was  e*er  seen 

So  amorous  as  this  lovely  greeu. 

Fond  lovers,  cruel  as  their  flame, 

Cut  in  these  trees  their  mistress'  name: 

Little,  alas!   they  know  or  heed 

How  far  these  beauties  hers  exceed! 

Fair  trees !    wheres'e'er  your  barks  I  wound. 

No  name  shall  but  your  own  be  found. 

When  we  have  ron  onr  passions'  heat, 
Love  hither  makes  his  best  retreat: 
The  gods,  that  mortal  beauty  chase, 
Still  in  a  tree  did  end  their  race ; 
Apollo  hunted  Daphne  so 
Only  that  she  might  laurel  grow ; 
And  Pan  did  after  Syrinx  speed 
Not  as  a  nymph,  but  for  a  reed. 

What  wondrous  life  is  this  I  lead! 
Ripe  apples  drop  about  my  head ; 
The  luscious  clusters  of  the  vine 
Upon  my  mouth  do  crush  their  wine; 
The  nectarine  and  curious  peach 
Into  my  hands  themselves  do  reach ; 
Stumbling  on  melons,  as  I  pass, 
Ensnared  with  flowers,  I  fall  on  grass. 

Meanwhile  the  mind  from  pleasure  less 
Withdraws  into  its  hapjHness ; 

S9> 


ANDREW  MARVELL 

The  miad,  that  oc«a  where  eacli  kind 
Doa  sinaght  its  own  mcaiblaace  lind[ 
Vet  h  cttMcs,  tranoceodiog  these, 
Pxi  other  worlds,  aod  other  seaat 
Anmhilating  all  that 's  nude 
To  a  greeo  thought  in  ft  green  fJiadc 

Heie  at  the  fountab's  sliding  foot, 
Or  at  some  fniit-tree's  taoaj  root. 
Casting  the  body's  Test  aside, 
My  soul  into  the  boughs  does  glide  i 
There,  liJce  a  bird,  it  sits  and  singi. 
Then  whets  and  coinht  ils  silver  wings, 
And,  till  ^rciurrd  for  longer  flight, 
Wkvct  in  i»  jilumrs  the  rarioiu  light. 

Such  was  that  happy  Garden*stale 
While  man  there  walk'd  without  a  nute  i 
After  a  flace  so  pure  and  sweet, 
Wh«  other  help  could  yet  be  meet! 
But  'twas  beyond  a  moital's  share 
To  wander  solitary  there ; 
Two  paradises  'twere  in  one, 
To  live  ia  Paradise  alone. 

How  well  the  skilful  gaid'ner  drew 
Of  flowers  and  herbs  this  dial  aew  I 
Where,  from  Aove,  the  milder  sua 
Does  through  a  fragrant  zodiac  nini 
And,  u  it  works,  th'  iodnstrious  bee 
Computet  its  tine  as  well  ns  ¥re. 
How  could  such  sweet  and  uriKilcMHne  hours 
Be  reckon'd,  but  with  herbs  sod  flowers  t 


ANDREW  MARVELL 


Jrfo.  Bermudas 

TW'HERE  the  remote  Bennudas  ride 

"^       Ib  the  ocean's  bosom  unespied. 
From  a  small  boat  that  row'd  along 
The  Ibtening  winds  received  this  song : 

'What  should  we  do  but  siti|  His  praise 
That  led  us  through  the  watery  maze 
Unto  an  isle  so  long  unknown, 
And  yet  far  kinder  than  our  own? 
Where  He  the  huge  sea-monsters  wracks, 
That  lift  the  deep  upon  their  backs, 
He  lands  us  on  a  grassy  stage, 
Safe  from  the  storms'  and  prelates'  rage: 
He  gave  us  this  etemal  Spring 
Which  here  enamels  everything, 
And  sends  the  fowls  to  us  in  care 
On  daily  visits  through  the  air : 
He  hangs  in  shades  the  orange  bright 
Like  golden  lamps  in  a  green  night. 
And  does  in  the  pomegrsoates  close 
Jewels  more  rich  than  Ormus  shows: 
He  makes  the  figs  our  mouths  to  meet 
And  throws  the  melons  at  our  feet ; 
But  apples  plants  of  such  a  price. 
No  tree  could  ever  bear  them  twice. 
With  cedars  chosen  by  His  hand 
From  Lebanon  He  siores  the  land  | 
And  makes  the  hollow  seas  that  roar 
Proclaim  the  ambergris  on  shore. 
He  cast  (of  which  we  rather  boast) 
The  Gospel's  pearl  upon  our  coast  j 

03  KB 


And  in  these  rocks  for  us  did  frame 
A  temple  where  to  sound  His  name. 
O,   in  our  voice  His  praise  exalt 
Till  it  arrive  at  Heaven's  vault, 
Which  thence  (perhaps)  rebounding  may 
Echo  beyond  the  Mexique  bay  ! ' 


Thus  sui       ' 

English  boat 

A  fa 

note: 

And 

;aide  their  chime. 

With 

kept  the  time. 

irfl. 


Pitaph 


CNOUG:  ctc  the  rest  to  Fame! 

■'-'     "Tis  to  1  I  her,  but  to  name. 

Courtship  which,  iiviGg,  she  declined, 
When  dead,  to  offer  were  tmkind: 
Nor  can  the  truest  wit,  or  friend, 
Without  detracting,  her  commend. 

To  say — she  lived  a  virgin  chaste 
In  this  age  loose  and  all  utilaced; 
Nor  was,  when  vice  is  so  allowed, 
Of  virtue  or  ashamed  or  proud ; 
That  her  soul  was  on  Heaven  so  bent, 
No  minute  but  it  came  and  went ; 
That,  ready  her  last  debt  to  pay, 
She  summ'd  her  life  up  every  day  { 
Modest  as  mom,  as  mid-day  bright, 
Gentle  as  evening,  cool  as  night: 
— 'Tis  true  ;    but  al!  too  weakly  said. 
"Twas  more  significant,  she's  dead. 

»4 


HENRY  VAUGHAN 
$62.  The  Retreat 

■tel-l6gj 

OAPPY  those  early  day^  when  I 
^  ^      Shined  in  ray  Angel-infaDcy ! 
Before  I  understood  this  place 
Appointed  for  my  second  race, 
Or  taught  my  soul  to  fancy  aught 
But  a  white  celestial  thought: 
When  yet  I  had  not  walk'd  ^wve 
A  mile  or  two  from  my  first  Love, 
And  looking  back — at  that  short  space — 
Could  see  a  glimpse  of  His  Imght  face: 
When  on  some  gilded  cloud,  or  flow'r. 
My  gazing  soul  would  dwell  an  hour, 
And  in  those  weaker  glories  spy 
Some  shadows  of  eternity: 
Before  I  taught  my  tongue  to  wound 
My  Conscience  with  a  sinful  sound, 
Or  had  the  black  ait  to  dispense 
A  several  wo  to  ev'ry  sense, 
But  felt  through  all  this  fleshly  dress 
Bright  shoots  of  ererlastingness. 

O  how  I  long  to  travel  back, 
And  tread  again  that  ancient  track ! 
That  I  might  once  more  reach  that  plain 
Where  first  I  left  my  glorious  train ; 
From  whence  th'  enlighten'd  spirit  sees 
That  shady  City  of  Palm-trees. 
But  ah !    my  soul  with  too  much  stay 
Is  drunk,  and  staggers  in  the  way ! 

398 


^^^^^^H 

HENRY  VAUGHAN                   ^H 

Some  men  a  forward  motion  love,                  ^^^| 

But  I  by  backward  steps  would  move  j                 V 

And  when  this  dust  fails  to  the  urn,                     1 

In  that  state  I  came,  return.                                1 

3<f3-                        Peace                              ^^ 

M%"; 

is  a  couRtiy                            1 

the  stars,                       ^^^| 

Where  f*^ 

ingdd  sentry                    ^^H 

All    B                       1 

le  wars :                           ^^^| 

There,  aoD 

■  and  d.inger,                   ^^H 

Sweet  ] 

s  crawn'd  with  smiles,           1 

And  One 

a  manger                                1 

Commant            1 

iieauteous  files.                    M 

He  is  thy  ^ 

i  Friend,                          ^^H 

And— 0            1 

111,  awake! —                  ^^B 

Did  in  pure  love  descend 

To  die  here  for  thy  sake. 
If  thou  canst  get  but  thither, 

There  grows  the  flower  of  Peace, 
The  Rose  that  cannot  wither, 

Thy  fortress,  and  thy  ease. 
Leaie  then  thy  foolish  ranges ; 

For  none  can  thee  secure 
But  One  who  never  changes — 

Thy  God,  thy  life,  thy  cure. 

Si?4.  The  Timber 

CURE  thou  didst  flourish  once!    and  many  springs, 
*^     Many  bright  mornings,  much  dew,  many  showers, 
Pass'd  o'er  thy  head ;   many  light  hearts  and  wings, 
Which  now  are  dead,  lodged  in  thy  living  bowers. 


HENRY  VAUGHAN 

And  s^  a  new  succession  sings  and  flies ; 

Fresh  groves  grow  up,  and  their  green  branches  shoot 
Towards  the  old  and  still  enduiing  skies, 

While  the  low  violet  thiiTes  at  their  root. 

But  thou  beneath  the  sad  and  heavy  line 

Of  death,  doth  waste  all  senseless,  cold,  and  dark ; 

Where  not  so  much  as  dreams  of  light  may  shine, 
Nor  any  thought  of  greenness,  leaf,  or  Wk. 

And  yet — as  if  some  deep  hate  and  dissent, 

Bred  in  thy  growth  betwixt  high  winds  and  thee. 

Were  still  alive — thou  dost  great  stonns  resent 
Before  they  come,  and  koow'st  how  near  they  be. 

Hlse  all  at  rest  thou  liest,  and  the  Benx  breath 
Of  tempests  can  no  more  disturb  thy  ease ; 

But  this  thy  stiaoge  resentment  after  death 

Means  only  those  who  broke — in  life — thy  peace. 


S^f.  Frtends  'Departed 

'T'HEY  are  all  gone  into  the  world  of  light ! 
^      And  I  alone  sit  ling'ring  here; 
Their  very  memory  is  fair  and  bright. 

And  my  sad  thoughts  doth  clear. 

It  glows  and  glitters  in  my  cloudy  breast, 
Like  stars  upon  some  gloomy  grove. 
Or  those  faint  beams  \a  which  this  hill  is  drest 
After  the  sun's  remove. 


HENRY  VAUGHAN 

I  see  ihem  waking  in  aa  air  of  glory, 

Whose  light  doth  trample  oo  my  days: 

My  days,   which  are  at  best  but  dull  and  hoai^r, 

M«e  glimmering  aod  decays. 

O  holy  Hope  1    and  high  Humility, 

High  35  the  heavens  above  ! 
Theiie  are  your  w^ks,  ^u   have  show'd  there 

To  kindle  Hi  1  love. 


mq 


Dear,  beauteous 
Shining  nov 
What  mysteries  ut 

Could  maL 


jewel  of  the  Just, 
I  the  dark ; 
id  ttiy  dust, 
.  that  mark! 


He  that  hath  found  si?  ^dgrd  bird's  nest  may  know,] 

At  first  sight,   if  rd  be  flown; 

But  what  fair  well   or  grove  he   sings  in  now, 

That  is  to  him  unknown, 


And  yet  as  Angels  in  some  brighter  dreams 
Call  to  the  soul,   when  man  doth  sleep : 
So  some  strange  thoughts  transcend  our  wonted  themes, 
And  into  glory  peep. 

If  a  star  were  confined  into  a  tomb. 

Her  captive  flames  must  needs  bum  there ; 
But  when  the  band  that  lock'd  her  up  gives   room, 
She'll  shine  through  all  the  sphere. 

O  Father  of  eternal  life,  and  all 
Created  glories   under  Thee  ! 
Resume  Thy  spirit  from  this  world  of  thrall 
Into  true  liberty. 

39* 


HENRY  VAUGHAN 

Either  disperae  these  mists,  ^tich  blot  aad  fill 

My  fospecam  still  u  they  pass; 
Or  die  itmoTC  me  hence  onto  that  bill, 
Wheie  I  shall  seed  no  ^ass. 


JOHN  BUNYAN 

jrftf.    Tie  Shepherd  Boj  sings  m  the 
ydiey  of  Humiliatitn 

^      "^  i&iS-ii 

LJE  that  is  down  needs  fear  no  fall, 
^  ^     He  that  is  low,  no  pride  { 
He  that  is  humble  ever  shall 
Have  God  to  be  his  guide. 

I  am  content  with  what  I  have, 

Little  be  it  or  much : 
And,  Lo(d,  contentment  still  I  cnv^ 

Because  Thou  savest  such. 

Fullness  to  such  a  burden  is 

That  go  on  pilgrimage: 
Here  litdc,  and  hereafter  bliss, 

Is  best  from  age  to  age. 


m 


BALLADS  AND  SONGS  BY  UNKNOWN 
AUTHORS 

^6?.  Thoma.     '    Rbymef 


'TRUE  Thomi 

*■      A  ferlie  he 

And  there  he  =" 

Come  lidiug 


on  Huntlie  bank; 
wi'  his  e'e  j 
dye  bright 
jT  the  Eildon  Tiec; 


Her  skirt  was  o'  rass-green  Bilk, 

Her  mantle  o'  Jvcl  fyne ; 

Ac  ilka  tett  o'  h  le's  mane, 

Hung  fifty  siUcr  oi i  and  nine. 

True  Thomas  he  pu'd  aff  his  cap, 
And  loutcd  low  down  on  his  knee: 

'  Haii  to  thee,  Mary,  Queer  of  Heaven ! 
For  thy  peer  on  earth   could  never  be.' 

'  0  no,  O  no,  Thomas,'  she  said, 
'  That  name  does   not  belang   to  me ; 

I'm  but  the  Queen  o'  fair  Elfland, 
That  am  hither  come  to  visit  thee. 

'  Harp  and  carp,   Thomas,'  she  said  j 
'  Hatp  and  carp  along  wi'  me ; 

And  if  ye  dare  to  kiss  my  lips. 
Sure  of  your  bodie  I  will  be.' 


fetlie]  marveL 
recite  (as  a  minstrel). 
400 


tett]  tassel. 


harp  and  carp]  play  u.J 


AN0NY^!OUS 

'B«Ed«  me  wnl,  betidic  roe  wor, 
Thu  ward  itlull  never  dnunun  me.* 

Syne  be  Hu  kiss'd  bcr  ro<:y  tips, 
All  vaderorath  the  Eildoo  Tm. 

'Now  yc  Ruai  go  wi'  me,'  sbc  *aid, 
'True  Thonus,  jrv  maun  go  wi'  me; 

And  ye  msiiB  atm  me  licven  yiMrs 
Thro'  wal  m  woe  u  nay  cbxnce  to  be.* 

She's  mooDced  oo  ber  nillc-whUc  stnd, 
She's  u'eo  true  Tbocius  uj)  beUad; 

Aod  nye,  wfacne'w  ber  bridle  nng, 
The  Kccd  g4cd  swifter  dtxn  tbr  wind. 

O  ihey  fade  on,  and  ianher  oo, 

The  need  gaed  swifter  than  the  wind} 

Until  ibcy  racfa'd  a  dexn  vide, 
And  linog  bnd  wiis  IcA  behind. 

'Light  down,  ligbt  down  now,  true  Tbonui, 
And  lean  youi  bead  opoo  my  kneci 

Abide  yc  there  a  little  space. 

And  I  will  sbow  you  (erlic*  three. 

'O  *ce  ye  DOC  yoo  wrow  roMl, 

So  ih*ck  beset  wi'  thon»  sod  briers  J 

That  is  the  Path  of  Righteousness, 
Tbo<^b  after  it  bat  few  inquires. 

'And  Me  j«  UK  yoo  bndd,  braid  road. 

This  lies  KTOss  the  Uy  leren? 
That  is  the  Path  of  Wickedness, 

Tbougb  MUM  call  it  the  Road  to  Hcanu. 
km]  laws. 


'  Add  see  ye  not  yon  bonny  road 

That  winds  about  ihe  femic  bric? 
That  is  the  Road  lo  fjir  Elfland, 

Where  thou  and  I  this  night  maun  gae. 

'  But,  Thomas,  ye  sail  haud  your  tongue. 

Whatever  ye  mav  hear  or  see ; 
For  speak  ye  ■  flyn-lind, 

Ye'Il  ne'er  win  your  ain  coimtric' 


O   they  rade  e 
And  they  v 

And  they  saw  , 
But  they  beard 


her  oo, 

abune  the  knee; 
1  nor  moon, 
tiog  of  the  sea. 


It  was  mirk,  mirk  there  was  nae  starlight. 

They  waded  thm  blude  to  the  knee ; 

Por  a'  the  blude  that  s  shed  on  the  earth 
Rins  through  the  Springs  o'  that  countrie. 

Syne  they  came  to  a  garden  green. 
And  she  pu'd  an  apple  frae  a  tree : 

'  Take  this  for  thy  wages,   true  Thomas  { 

It  will  give  thee  the  tongue  that  can  never  Ice.' 

'  My  tongue  is  my  ain,'  true  Thomas  he  said ; 

'A   gudcly  gift  ye  wad  gie  to  me  I 
I  neither  dought  to  buy  or  sell 

At  fair  or  tryst  where  I  might  be. 

'  I  dought  neither  speak  to  prince  or  peer. 

Nor  ask  of  grace  from  fair  ladye !  '— 
'Now  haud  thy  peace,   Thomas,'   she  said, 
'  For  as  I  say,   so  must  it  be.' 
dought]  could. 


ANONYMOUS 

Hr  liu  gotten  »  coot  of  the  eren  clotb, 
And  1  jiiir  o'  shooo  of  the  nivci  |tccn; 
'  Aad  till  iOYti  jws  were  ^oe  and  past. 
True  Tbo«n3a  on  mth  wis  oeter  scca. 


3<f8.  Sir  "Patrick  Spais 

I.   Thi  SnHrfg 

"T^HE  kiDg  nts  in  Duitfmitlinc  town 
^       Drinking  the  blodc-rcd  wrnr; 
*0  whore  will  I  get  a  ikttly  &)uii|>Gr 
To  sail  this  new  ship  o'  niiaef 

O  vp  anij  Rptk  u  cldetn  knight, 
Sal  It  the  ki&g's  right  hace; 

'Sir  Patrick  Spens  is  the  best  uilor 
That  ewr  sailM  (he  »«•.' 

Oar  king  b»  writtra  a  brad  letter, 
And  scai'd  it  with  hi^  tund, 

And  sent  it  to  Sir  Patrick  Specs 
Was  walking  oa  the  ttnivd. 

'To  Norowaj,  to  Noioway, 
To  Noroway  o'er  the  facni ; 
I  The  king's  daughter  o*  Nofoway, 
Tn  thoa  must  bring  her  bamc' 

The  fim  word  that  Sir  Patrick  read 
So  loud,  loud  hiagh'd  he; 

The  t>et!tt  word  that  Sir  Patrick  read 
The  tear  Uioded  hi*  e'e, 

jU.  Ontly]  MUbL 


•« 


'  O  vibi  is  tliis  has  done  this  deed 

And  Uuld  the  king  o'  me, 
To  send  U5  out,   at  this  time  o*  year. 

To  sail  upon  the  sea? 

'  Be  it  wind,  be  it  weet,  be  it  haii,  bt  a  slett. 

Our  ship  must .  satl^^e  faem  ; 
The  king's  oroway, 

'Tis  wc  mnai  ■  hamc' 


They  h 
Wi' 

They  hae  I. 
Upon  a  ' 


n  Moncnday 
way 


n  iitum 

'Mak  ready,  male  roy  merry  men  a'! 

Our  gude  ship  sails  uie  morn.' 
'  Now  ever  alack,  my  master  dear, 
I  fear  a  deadly  storm. 

'  I  saw  the  new  moon  late  yesti'ceQ 

Wi'  the  auld  moon  in  her  arm ; 
And  if  we  gang  to  sea,  master, 

I  fear  we'll  come  to  harm.' 

They  hadna  sail'd  a  league,  a  league, 

A  league  but  barely  three, 
When  the  lift  grew  dark,  and  the  wind  blew  loud, 

And  gurly  grew  die  sea. 

The  ankers  brak,  and  the  topmast  lap, 

It  was  sic  a  deadiy  storm : 
And  the  waves  cam  owre  the  broken  ship 

Till  a'  her  sides  were  torn, 
lifl]  (Ity.  Up]  sprang. 


ANONYJfOUS 

'Co  fodi  a  wri>  o'  the  lilkcn  ctoiili, 

Aoothcr  n'  ihe  twine, 
And  w^  Uicm  iato  our  ship's  ndc, 

And  l«t  DM  ibr  xa  cooie  to.' 

Tliey  fetchM  a  wi-b  o'  ibe  uilun  ddtb, 

Aoothrr  o'  the  twine. 
And  they  wapp'd  tbon  round  tbit  gude  ship's  wig. 

But  Rill  thr  tM  CUM  io. 

O  Utili,  Uiih  were  our  gode  Scots  torda 

To  wet  tbdr  curl(-heel'd  ihoooi 
B«  bng  or  a*  the  pliy  wu  plajr'd 

The;  wai  lh<ir  lutis  nboon. 

And  moDy  wis  the  fewthcr  bed 

Tlui  fiiuerM  on  tbr  (item  i 
And  moojr  was  the  gtxJc  lord'«  sob 

That  aem  nuir  cam  hame. 

O  Eng,  lapg  oay  the  ladies  m, 

Wi*  their  bus  into  their  bind. 
Before  they  sec  Sir  Patnck  Spcns 

Come  sailing  to  ibe  uraod! 

And  ling,  bag  may  ilie  maidens  sil 

Wr  their  gowd  lumes  in  their  hair, 
A-waiiing  for  their  oia  dear  Iotus  ! 

For  them  they'll  see  nae  mair. 

Hair-owre,  hslf-owre  to  Aberdour, 

Tis  fifty  EMboon  deep; 
And  there  lies  gnde  %  Patikk  Speos, 

Wi'  the  Scots  lords  at  his  feet! 


AaiWdi  t(MKd  ttotx.        kAmc*]  ecunbs. 


M 


The  Lass  of  Locbroyatt 

/^  WHA  will  shoe  my  bonny  foot  ? 
^^     And  wha  wii!  glove  my  hand  ? 
And  wha  will  Wnd  my  middle  jimp 
Wj'  a  I"""    I""  linen  band  ? 


*  0  wha  wuf               1 

y  yellow  hair, 

t 

jy  kame  I 

An^ 

babe's  faiber 

Tai  ti 

hame!' 

'Thy  father,  _  shoe  thy  foot, 

Thy  brotht  love  thy  hand. 

Thy  mither  t  ihy  middle  Jin^ 

Wi'  a  lang,  lai-^  .  nen  band, 

'Thy  sister  will  kame  thy  yellow  hair, 

Wi'  a  haw  baybetiy  kame; 
The  Almighty  will  be  thy  babe's  father 

Till  Gregory  come  hame.' 

'And  wha  will  build  a  bonny  ship, 

And  set  it  on  the  sea  ? 
For  I  will  go  to  seek  my  love, 

My  ain  love  Gregory.' 

Up  then  spak  her  father  dear, 

A  wafu'  man  was  he ; 
'And  I  will  build  a  bonny  ship. 

And  set  her  on  the  sea. 

jimp]  trim.  kame]  comb.  haw  baybtrry]   !fl  comiplioo  for 

'  braw  ivory' ;   or  b»y  berry  may  =  laurel- wood. 
*o6 


ANONYMOUS 

*A»d  I  will  build  »  baur  Mp, 

And  set  W  OB  the  irt. 
And  je  hI  gie  atxl  xvk  your  la*e, 

Yout  tin  love  Gregofy.' 

Then  he's  gin  build  a  botuy  slup^ 

And  set  it  00  the  sea, 
Wi'  fow-aod-twentiF  mariDcn, 

To  btv  her  company. 

0  he's  pn  build  x  bomy  ship, 

To  saD  oo  tbe  salt  sea^ 
The  mut  wu  o'  the  bcMen  gotd, 

Tbc  tails  o'  cramoiaic. 

The  udet  were  o'  the  gude  itout  aik. 
The  deck  o'  mountain  pine, 

The  anchor  o'  the  siltcr  shcoe, 
The  ropes  o'  sOken  twine. 

She  badaa  idil'd  but  twenty  leagues, 
But  twenty  leagues  aod  thne. 

When  she  met  wi'  a  rank  reirer, 
And  a'  his  con^onie. 

'Now  are  ye  Queen  of  Heavoi  hie, 
Came  to  pardon  a'  oar  sin  I 

Or  >fe  ye  Maiy  Nfagdalanc, 
Ww  bota  »  Bethliunr 

Tm  no  the  Queen  of  Heaven  bit. 
Come  to  pudon  ye  your  sn, 

Nor  am  I  Mary  Masdalane, 
Was  bom  in  Bethlam. 

e]  criDOMi.        rdTci]  tobbcf. 


« 


ANONYMOUS 


'  But  I'm  the  lass  of  Locbroyan, 

Thiit  's  sailing  on  the  sea 
To  see  if  I  can  find  my  lov^ 

My  ain  Iotc  Gregory.' 

*0  sec  na  ye  yon  bonny  bower? 

It's  a' ' e  wi'  tin; 

When  thoi  it  round  about. 

Lord  Gre|  ithin,' 


And  wh 

Shin                        1 
Whiik  .. 

Built  on  a  I 

le  stately  tower, 
nd  bright, 
;  jawing  wave, 
height, 

Bays,  'Row 

And  bring  me   ... 
For  yonder  I  see  my 

Close  by  the  salt  s€ 

ray  roarinere, 
le  land, 
love's  castle, 
ra  strand.' 

She  sail'd  it  round,  and  sail'd  it  round. 
And  loud  and  loud  cried  she, 

'  Now  break,  now  break  your  fairy  charms, 
And  set  my  tme-love  free.' 

She 's  ta'en  her  young  son  in  her  anns. 

And  to  the  door  she's  gane. 
And  long  she  knock'd,  and  sair  she  ca'd, 

But  answer  got  she  nane. 

*  O  open,  open,  Gregory ! 

O   open !    if  ye  be  within  i 
For  here's  the  lass  of  Lochroyan, 

Come  far  fra  kith  and  kin. 

*>8 


ANONV^fOUS 

■  0  open  the  door,  Lotd  Grejtory  I 

0  opcD  lad  In  me  in! 
The  wad  blows  loud  nod  ctJd,  Gregory, 

The  nin  drops  fni  mjr  clitn. 

'The  shoe  is  frozca  to  my  foot, 

Tbe  gbn  unto  my  land, 
Tbe  wtt  drops  fn  av/  yellow  luir, 

Na  Irager  dow  I  xuad.' 

O  up  then  spk  bl*  SI  millKT, 

— An  ill  devili  may  ibe  die! 
'  Yc'rc  no  the  lav  of  Locliro]'aa, 

Sbc'*  fat  out-ovn  ibe  sea. 

'Awi',  awa',  ye  ill  woman, 
Ye're  no  cocne  here  for  f;ude ; 

Ye're  tnit  tonx  witch  or  wil'  warlock. 
Or  mermaid  o'  the  Hood.' 

*I  am  nenher  witch  nor  wil'  warlock, 

Nor  ntnnaid  o'  th«  sea, 
Bm  1  am  Aame  of  Locluoyan, 

O  open  the  door  to  me  t ' 

'Gin  yc  be  Annie  of  Lochroyaa, 

As  1  trow  iJiou  btnai  she, 
Now  tell  roe  of  »oae  lorMokens 

That  fa9s*d  'tween  thee  and  me.' 

*0  dinai  y«  mind,  lore  Gregory, 

Aa  w«  nt  at  (he  wine, 
Vft  dianged  tlie  linga  fne  our  fingeis? 

And  I  OD  abew  tbce  thine. 


dow]  can. 


ANONYMOUS 


'  O  yours  was  gude,  and  gude  enough, 

But  ay  the  best  wjs  mine. 
For  yours  was  o'  the  gude  red  gowd, 
But  rnine  o'  the  diamoad  fine. 

'Yours  was  o'  the  gude  red  gowd, 

Mine  o'    ■  "'      ind  fine  j 
Mine  was  o  est  troth, 

But  tlune  «  wichia.' 

'If  ye  be  f  Lochroyan, 

As  I  kt.  be, 

Tell  me  SOI  a'  the  love-tokens 

Pass'd  beti  »  and  me.' 

■  'And  dinna  yi  ,  lave  Gregory! 

As   we  5at  on  ™.   hill, 
Thou  twin'd  me  o'  my  maidenheid, 
Right  sair  against  my  Mfill  i 

'  Now  open  the  door,  love  Gregory ! 

Open  the  door  !    I  pray ; 
For  thy  young  son  is  in  my  arms, 

And  will  be  dead  ere  day.' 

'Ye  lie,  ye  lie,  ye  ill  woman, 

So  loud  I  hear  ye  lie ; 
For  Annie  of  the  Lochroyan 

Is  far  out-owre  the  sea.' 

Fair  Annie  tum'd  her  round  about! 

'Weel,  sine  that  it  be  sae, 
May  ne'er  woman  that  has  borne  a  son 

Hae  a  heart  sae  fu'  o'  wae  ! 
4'o 


ANONYMOUS 

'Tak  dawn,  uk  down  that  mast  o'  gowd, 

Set  up  a  mast  of  tree; 
It  disna  become  a  forsaken  lady 

To  sail  sac  royallie.' 

When  the  cock  had  crawn,  and  the  day  did  dawn, 

And  the  sun  began  to  peep, 
Up  then  raise  Lord  Gregory, 

And  sair,  sair  did  he  weep. 

'O  I  hae  dream'd  a  dream,  mither, 

I  wish  it  may  bring  good ! 
That  the  bonny  lass  of  Lochroyan 

At  my  bower  wiodow  stood. 

'O  I  hae  dream'd  a  dream,  mither, 

The  thought  o't  gars  me  greet ! 
That  fair  Annie  of  Lochroyim 

Lay  dead  at  my  bed-feet.' 

'Gin  it  be  for  Annie  of  Lochroyan 

That  ye  mak  a'  this  mane, 
She  stood  last  night  at  your  bower-door, 

But  I  hae  sent  her  hame.' 

'0  wae  betide  ye,  ill  woman, 

An  ill  death  may  ye  die! 
That  wadna  open  the  door  yoursell 

Nor  yet  wad  waken  me.' 

O  he's  gane  down  to  yon  shore-side, 

As  fast  as  he  could  dree, 
And  there  he  saw  fair  Annie's  bark 

A  rowing  owre  the  sea. 

4" 


ANONYMOUS 

'O  Annie,  Annie,'  loud  he  crinl, 
'  O  Annie,   0   Annie,  bide  ! ' 

But  ay  the  mair  he  cried  '  Annie,' 
The  braider  grew  Uie  tide, 

'  O  Annie,  Annie,  dear  Annie, 

Zi        "  '  "    to  me ! ' 

But  ay  gan  call, 

The  K  he  sea. 


The 

the  waves  rose  liie 

An                               1 

t  on  shore ; 

Fair  Annii                    i 

as  in   die  faem, 

The  babe                  i 

r  more. 

Lord  Gregory  I  s  gowden  locks 

And  made  a   waiu    moan  ; 
Fair  Annie's  corpse  lay  at  his  feet, 
His  bonny  son  was  gone. 

'O  cherry,  cherry  was  her  cheek, 

And  gowden  was  her  hair, 
And  coral,  coral  was  her  lips, 

Nane  might  with  her  compare.' 

Then  first  he  Itiss'd  her  paie,  pale  cheek, 
And  spe  he  kiss'd  her  chin, 

And  syne  he  kiss'd  her  wane,  wane  lips. 
There  was   na  breath  within. 

'  O   wae  betide  my   ill  mither. 

An  ill  death  may  she  die  ! 
She  tum'd  my  true-love  frae  ray  door, 

Who  cam  so  far  to  me, 

4" 


ANONYMOUS 

*0  wae  betide  my  til  miiher, 

An  ill  death  taay  she  did 
She  bit  no  been  the  dcid  </  aar. 

But  she's  been  ibc  <tnd  of  three.' 

he 'ft  ta'eo  out  a  litde  dart. 
Hung  low  down  bjr  hn  gon. 
He  tlmist  it  iJirough  and  through  his  heart. 
And  wotds  tpalc  nem  man. 


f70.    The  7)oviif  Houmi  of  Tarroiu 

1  ATE  at  ecn,  drinlun*  the  wine, 
^     And  ere  they  paid  the  bwb', 
^Tbcy  set  a  combat  them  between. 
To  light  it  ia  the  dawin'. 

*0  uajr  at  htmr,  my  noble  lord! 
O  Usy  ac  haine,  in;  marrow! 
L  My  cniel  brother  will  you  betny, 
On  the  dowie  housiu  o'  Yarrow.' 

*0  fare  ye  wect,  my  lady  %v/\ 

O  Cure  ye  weel,  my  Sanh ! 
For  I  mtnn  pte,  tho'  1  ne'er  rctura 

Fne  the  dowie  banks  o'  Yanow.' 

Siit  kiu'd  Ills  checic,  she  lumed  bis  hair, 

As  she  had  dooe  befure,  O; 
She  belted  oa  bis  ooblc  hnui, 

Aa'  he's  aw»  to  Yurow. 

.  .  £M«I  tklft,  wiiu.  yje.  Uirin'J  reckooiaK.  manoi*] 

(B&iried),  hutMiBil  ur  wtfr.     d«wM]  doleTaL     boniDS]  wuei-PKidi. 


ANONYMOUS 

O  he's  gane  up  yon  high,  high  hill- 
1  wat  he  gaed  wi'  sorrow — 

An'  io  a  den  spied  nine  arm'd  dkii, 
r  the  dowie  haums  o'  Yarrow. 

'  O  are  ye  come  to  drink  the  wiae, 
As  ye  hae  ■'-—  "^fore,  O? 

Or  arc  ye  comt  eld   the  brand, 

On  the  dowii  s  o'  Yarrow  J* 


'I  am  no  came 
As  I  hae  doi 

But  I  am  come 
Do  the  dowic 


ink  the  wine, 

^,  o, 

fid  the  brand, 
IS  o'  Yanow.' 


Four  be  hurt,  an  he  slew. 

On  the  dowif  Iiui.:.i5  o'   Yarrow, 
Till  that  stubborn  knight  came  him  behind, 
An'  ran  his  body  thoirow. 

'Gae  hame,  gae  hame,  good  brother  Jolin, 

An'  tell   your  sister  Saiah 
To  come  an'  lift  hor  noble  lord, 

Who  's  sleepin'  sound  on   Yarrow.' 

*  Yestreen  I  dream 'd  a  dolefu'  dream } 
1  kcn'd  there  wad  be  sorrow  { 

1  dream'd  I  ])u'd  the  heather  green, 
On  the  dowie  banks  o'   Yarrow.' 

She  gaed  up  yon  high,  high  hill — 

I  wat  she  gaed  wi'  sorrow — 
An'  in  a  den  spied  nine  dead  men, 

On  the  dowie  bourns  o'  Yarrow. 

414 


ANONYMOUS 

She  klss'd  bis  cbM-k,  «h):  kamcd  tut  tuir, 

As  olt  she  did  beware,  Ot 
Sbc  dnnk  th«  red  bluod  frat  bim  no. 

On  tbe  dowic  bourns  o'  Yanow. 

'O  buid  yoor  toqsue,  my  douchtcr  dcu, 
Pof  wbat  Deeds  a'  tliis  wrrow  f 

I'll  wed  you  on  ■  better  Ion) 
Than  him  ]-ou  lost  oo  Yarrow.' 

•  O  hand  four  congur,  my  falbcr  dor, 

Aa'  diona  grieve  your  Sarah ; 
A  better  lord  wta  neier  bora 

Tliaa  him  I  lost  oo  Yarrow. 

*Talt  hame  your  ouko,  ult  bamr  yoiu  kyc, 

For  they  hic  bred  our  sorrow ; 
I  wisa  ihK  tfaey  had  a'  gaae  mad 

Vfiaa  they  cam  lirsi  u>  Yanow.' 

371  Clerk  Saunders 

/^LERK  SAUNDERS  and  may  Margutt 
^-*     WJk'd  owrc  yon  jardea  grixni 
And  dceji  and  heavy  wa»  Uic  lore 
That  jell  ihir  twa  bctwcca. 

'A  bed.  a  bed,*  actk  SMOdcn  »kt, 

*  A  bed  for  yoa  and  roe  1  * 
*Pye  oa,  (j«  na,'  sdd  may  Marj;am, 

*'1V1  aoca  we  laattKd  he!' 

'Thai  ni  take  the  sword  frae  my  scijibttnj 

And  slowly  lift  the  faaj 
And  you  may  swtar,  and  aaie  yoor  aiih, 

Ye  K'er  let  Ctak  Sauadtn  in. 

W 


ANONYMOUS 

'Take  you  a  mpkin  in  )-our  bind. 
And  tie  op  iaalh  youi  boosie  c'eo, 

Anil  fuu  may  kwcxt,  anil  nt-e  your  ahb, 
Yc  SRW  me  u  nooc  luc  yeRitto.' 

It  wx»  abotit  tlte  nndni|>bt  bow, 

When  they  a^erp  were  laid. 
When  in  and  came  her  seten  btothm, 

Wi'  toicbet  btuning  red; 

Wbtn  in  sod  came  her  serea  bratbm, 

Wi*  torches  burniaj;  liri^bt: 
Tbey  wid,  '  We  hne  but  one  toter. 

And  behold  her  lying  with  a  Icnight  1 ' 

Then  out  and  spolce  the  fint  o'  tbnn, 
'I  bear  (be  sword  ahsll  gar  bim  die.' 

And  out  and  apike  the  xcond  o'  then, 
'Hii  fatlicr  bu  tute  niair  but  be.' 

And  out  and  spake  the  tlnrd  o'  tbein, 
'  1  wot  that  they  arc  lovers  dear,* 

And  out  and  s]<ake  the  foimli  o'  liicm, 
'They  bae  b«n  in  tore  this  n»ooy  ■  yor.* 

Then  out  and  tpike  tbc  Tifth  o'  ibmt, 
'  It  were  great  sia  true  love  to  twajo.* 

And  out  and  spake  the  KiKth  o'  them, 
'  It  were  shame  to  slay  a  skcpiog  sua.' 

Then  up  and  gat  the  seventh  o*  them, 

And  never  a  word  spake  he ; 
Bot  he  has  striped  his  bright  brown  brand  j 

Out  tlirough  Clcik  Saundcn'  fair  body 
ititped)  ihnitt. 
4* 


ANONYMOUS 

Suinden  he  Mined,  and  Margvet  the  turn'd 
Into  liis  vn»  u  uJccp  nhc  lay; 
And  f*i  lad  itlciu  was  the  night 
That  was  atwcra  lliir  iwk. 

And  tbcjr  hy  still  aod  sicepit  Mund 

Until  the  day  be^n  to  daw'i 
Aad  Undly  she  to  lum  did  ay, 

*  It  is  daw,  tnw  loiv,  jou  were  swa'.' 

But  he  hy  still,  and  ileepit  Mund, 

Albnt  the  sun  began  w  sheen ; 
Sht  took'd  jffwecn  her  and  the  wa', 

Aad  dull  and  dro«-sie  were  his  e'en. 

T'hnt  b  and  came  her  fither  dear; 

Said,  *  Let  a'  your  moaming  be ; 
III  carry  tl>e  dead  cone  to  the  clay, 

And  I'll  come  back  and  comhn  thee.' 

'Comfort  wvel  your  senra  sons, 

For  corafoned  I  will  never  be: 
I  ween  twts  pcithcr  knave  nor  loon 

Wu  in  the  bower  ]asi  night  wi'  me.' 

The  clinking  bell  gatd  through  the  town, 
To  cany  the  dead  corse  to  the  clay; 

And  Clerk  Saundtn  stood  at  nuy  Margaret's  window, 
I  vot,  so  boor  before  the  diy. 

'  Are  ye  ileeping,  Marg'ret  ?  *  he  says, 

'Or  are  yc  waking  prctcotlie? 
Give  rac  my  taith  and  troth  agnin, 

I  wot,  true  loiv,  I  gied  to  thcc.' 

r  m 


ANONYMOUS 

*  Ymr  faith  aad  tmh  jc  ull  nrvcr  gn, 
Nor  oor  tnw  lorv  sail  netcr  twin, 

Until  jv  come  wUbin  my  bower, 
And  kiu  me  cheik  and  chin.' 

'My  mouth  it  b  full  cold,  Mat;g'KT) 
It  has  tiic  smell,  now,  of  tlie  ground  t 

And  if  I  kiss  thy  comely  mouth, 
Thy  d«ys  of  life  will  ooc  be  Ing. 

*0  cock*  are  crowiog  a  merry  mtdni^ht; 

I  wot  the  wild  fowls  arc  bodi&g  d^) ; 
Give  tin  my  failh  and  tioth  a^in, 

And  tct  me  fare  ok  on  my  way.* 

'Thy  faith  and  troth  thou  sallna  get. 
And  OUT  true  loiv  sail  never  twin, 

U&ul  ye  tdl  what  coina  o'  wonco, 
I  wot,  who  die  in  strong  muTeUangf' 

'Their  beds  are  nude  in  the  heavens  h^h, 
Down  St  the  foot  of  our  good  Lord'ii  knee, 

W«]  set  about  wi'  {;tIlyflowers  i 
I  wot,  sweet  comfaaj  for  to  see. 

'O  cocks  are  crowing  a  mtny  midnight; 

I  wot  the  wild  fowls  are  boding  day; 
The  psalms  of  hesren  will  soon  be  flung, 

And  I,  ere  now,  will  be  miss'd  away.* 

Then  Khe  has  taken  a  crystal  wand, 
And  siic  has  M/oken  her  troth  thereon ; 

She  ha-s  ffvm  it  him  out  at  the  shoi-wiadow, 
Wi'  mony  a  tad  sigh  and  heavy  groan, 
twin]  bctak  bi  tiro. 

41s 


ANONYMOUS 

•  I  thank  ye,  Marg'ret ;    I  tbuk  ye,  Marg'rct ; 

And  ay  I  thank  ye  heanQie; 
Gb  ever  the  dead  come  for  the  quick, 

Be  sure,  Marg'rct,  I'U  come  for  tliee.' 

It's  hosen  and  shoou,  and  gown  alone, 
She  climb'd  the  wall,  and  follow'd  him, 

Umit  she  came  to  the  green  forest. 
And  there  she  lo^  the  sight  o'  him. 

'Is  there  ony  room  at  your  head,  Sanndos? 

Is  there  ony  room  at  your  feet? 
Or  ony  room  at  your  side,  Sauoden, 

Where  fain,  fain,  1  wad  sleep?* 

'There's  nae  room  at  my  head,  Marg'ret, 

There's  nae  room  at  my  feetj 
My  bed  it  b  fu'  lowly  now, 

Amang  the  hungry  wonns  I  sleep. 

'Cauld  mould  is  my  covering  now. 

But  and  my  winding'sheet  i 
The  dew  it  falls  nae  sooner  down 

Than  my  resting-piace  is  weet. 

'But  plait  a  wand  o'  bonny  tMrk, 

And  lay  it  on  my  breast; 
And  shed  ■  tear  upon  my  grave, 

And  wish  my  saul  gude  rest.' 

Then  up  and  crew  the  red,  red  cocit, 

And  up  and  crew  the  gray : 
"Tis  time,  'tis  time,  ray  dear  Marg'ret, 

That  you  were  going  away. 

4>9 


ANONYMOUS 

'And  fair  Mjtrg'm,  ud  nre  Mtrg'rvt, 

Aad  Mirg'm  o'  vcritie, 
Gin  e'er  yc  love  aoothcr  tnao, 

Ne'er  love  bin  ts  je  did  inc.' 


372.  Fair  Annie 

THE  rriv-cra  they  stole  Fair  Atmiev 
'''      As  she  widkM  by  the  sea  1 
But  a  noble  knight  was  her  nmsom  sooOi 
Wi*  gawd  «nd  white  mmie. 

She  bided  in  tfiangera'  land  wi'  Iwii, 
And  none  knew  wheoce  she  cam ; 

She  lived  in  the  cwtle  wi'  bcr  lo»e, 
Bbi  dctct  told  her  name 

'  Ii  's  narrow,  nanow,  nuk  jwir  bed, 
And  lum  to  lie  your  kne) 

For  I'm  gaun  o«fe  the  sea,  Fair  AnsM^ 
A  brsw  Bride  to  bring  hatne. 

Wi'  her  I  will  get  gQwd  sod  gcafi 
Wr  you  I  ne'er  gK  Dane. 

*  But  whs  wdt  bake  my  bridal  bread. 

Or  brew  my  bridal  ak? 
And  wha  will  weJcooie  my  brigbt  Bride, 

That  I  bring  owrt  the  dale!' 

•It's  I  mil  bake  yocr  bridal  brc*d, 

And  brew  your  bniLJ  ale ; 
And  I  will  welcome  your  bright  Bride, 

That  you  bring  own  the  dale.' 


ANONYMOUS 

•But  she  that  wdcomes  my  bright  Bride 

Maun  gang  like  maiden  lairi 
She  maun  lace  on  her  robe  sae  jimp^ 

And  comely  braid  her  hair. 

'Bind  u[s  l»i>d  i^  your  yellow  hair. 

And  tie  it  (Xi  your  neck; 
And  see  yon  look  as  maiden-like 

As  the  day  that  first  we  met.' 

*0  how  can  I  gang  maiden-lik^ 

When  maiden  I  am  nane? 
Have  I  not  borne  six  sons  to  thec^ 

And  am  wi'  child  again!* 

'I'll  put  cooks  into  my  kitchen, 

And  stewards  in  my  hall, 
And  I'll  have  bakers  for  my  bread, 

And  brewers  for  my  ale ; 
But  you're  to  welcome  my  bright  Bride, 

That  I  bring  owre  the  da\c' 

l^iee  months  and  ■  day  were  gane  and  past, 

Fair  Annie  she  gat  word 
That  her  love's  ship  was  come  at  last, 

Wi'  his  tvi^t  young  Bride  aboard. 

She 's  ta'en  her  young  son  in  her  aims, 

Amther  in  her  hand; 
And  she  's  gane  up  to  the  highest  tower, 

Looks  over  sea  and  land. 

Jimp]  trbs. 

4» 


ANONYMOUS 

'  Come  (toiui,  conw  doua,  atf  laotbcr  dear, 

Come  aff  the  casUe  wa*  1 
I  feu  if  Un^  ye  sund  tber^ 

Yc'II  let  younell  doun  &'.• 

She'*  u'en  •  cike  o'  the  best  bresd, 

A  sioup  o'  the  best  wine. 
And  b'  the  keys  upon  ber  anu, 

And  to  the  yett  is  guw. 

'O  ye*!*  welcome  lianie,  my  kin  gude  lord^ 
To  your  castles  snd  your  tourers  t 

Yc're  welcome  hume,  ny  aia  {ude  lord, 
To  your  ha's,  but  and  your  bowers 

And  welcome  to  your  hamc,  fait  lady  I 
For  ■*  thtt  '3  here  it  youre.' 

*0  whauia  lady's  that,  my  lord, 

That  welcomes  you  and  me } 
Gia  I  be  lang  about  tlus  place, 

Her  friend  I  mean  to  be.' 


Fair  Annie  lervcd  th«  lang  tables 
Wi'  the  white  bread  and  tbc  wiatt 

Bi»  ly  site  dnok.  the  wan  watcr 
To  keep  ber  ootour  line. 

And  she  gaed  by  the  lirst  table, 
And  smiled  upon  them  a' : 

But  cm  «he  reach'd  the  wcond  taUe, 
The  tears  began  to  fa'. 


yettl  sile. 


ANONYMOUS 

She  took  a  oapldn  lang  and  white, 

And  huDg  it  on  a  pin; 
It  was  to  wipe  avnj  the  tears, 

As  she  £aed  out  and  in. 

When  bells  were  nmg  and  mass  was  sung. 

And  a'  men  bound  for  bed, 
The  bridegtoom  and  the  bonny  Bride 

Id  ae  chamber  were  laid. 

Pair  Annie's  ta'en  a  harp  in  her  hand. 

To  harp  thir  twa  asleep  j 
But  ay,  as  she  haipit  and  she  sang, 

Fu'  sairly  did  she  weep. 

'0  pn  my  sons  were  sewn  rats, 

Rinnin'  on  the  castle  wa', 
And  I  mysell  a  great  grey  cat, 

I  soon  wad  worry  them  a'  1 

'  O  gin  my  sons  were  seven  hares, 

Rinuin'  owre  yon  lily  lea. 
And  I  mysell  a  good  greyhound. 

Soon  worried  they  a'  should  be  I ' 

Then  out  and  spalc  the  bonuy  young  Bride, 

In  bride^bed  where  she  lay; 
'That's  like  my  sister  Annie,*  she  says; 

'Wha  is  it  doth  sing  and  play? 

'I'll  put  on  my  gown,*  said  the  new-come  Bride, 

'And  my  shoes  upon  ray  feet; 
I  will  see  wha  doth  sae  sadly  sing. 

And  what  is  it  gars  her  greet. 

4*3 


ANONYMOUS 

'What  nils  yoa,  what  ails  ym,  my  boasrlutpiT, 

That  ye  mak  sic  a  maac  i 
Has  ony  wior-banci  ca»  its  ffx^ 

Of  is  a'  )-our  wluie  bread  ganef* 

'It  isna  because  my  wine  is  tqntt, 

Or  that  my  whkc  brrad's  ganci 
But  because  I've  ioat  my  um  Iotc's  Inie, 

Aai  bt  'a  wrd  to  SDiilicr  ane.' 

*  Noo  tell  me  wha  was  your  father  t  *  sbe  sys, 
'  Noo  tell  roe  wha  w»  your  mother  t 

And  h.id  yc  ony  sittcf."  ahe  uys, 
'And  had  yc  cTCf  a  brother^' 

'The  Earl  of  Wemyss  was  ray  lather. 

The  Counieas  of  Wcmysi  my  mother, 
Younj  Elinor  she  wis  my  sister  dtu, 

And  Lord  John  be  was  my  bro>Uier.' 

'If  the  Earl  of  Wefny»  was  youi  father, 

I  wot  sac  waa  he  miae; 
And  it's  0  my  sister  Aoniel 

Your  lore  yc  sallna  tyoc 

'Tnk  your  husband,  mj  sister  deart 

You  ticV  were  wmng'd  for  me. 
Beyond  a  lusa  o'  liis  tu^iy  mouth 

As  we  cara  owtc  th«  sea. 

'Seren  ships,  loidcd  wee). 

Cam  owre  the  sea  vi'  me; 
Ane  o*  ibcm  will  uk  rac  \aaut, 

And  six  I'll  pK  to  th««^' 


ANONYMOUS 


}.  EJ'Jiarii,  Edward 

M/THY  does  your  brood  sm  drop  wi'  Uiule, 
^      Edwud,  Edwardf 
Why  does  jroui  fannd  ue  diop  wi'  bludc^ 

Aod  why  Mc  sad  gang  )v,  O  J ' 
*0  I  hac  ktU'd  my  hawk  sac  gude^ 

MidtcT,  imUwr; 
0  1  hac  lull'd  nij  luuk  uc  sude, 
And  I  hid  nar  ituir  but  he,  O.' 

'Your  hawk's  blude  **s  never  sat  ted, 

Edvmrd,  Edward; 
Youi  tuwk's  blude  wst  nctcr  uc  rrd, 

My  dear  Mo,  I  tell  Uice,  O.' 
'O  I  hac  kill'd  my  red>TOaa  steed, 

Miiher,  mithcr; 
O  I  hac  kill'd  my  rcdToan  Meed, 

That  cm  wa*  «ac  fair  and  fiec,  O.' 

'Your  need  was  aukt,  and  fe  hac  got  nuir, 

Edward,  Edwud; 
Your  need  was  suld,  ai>d  ye  liae  got  ouiri 

Some  other  dule  ye  drvc,  O.' 
*0  I  hae  kin'd  my  blher  dear, 

Mhhcr,  rokher; 
O  I  hie  kill'd  ray  laiher  dcu, 
AJas,  and  wae  b  me,  O  \ ' 


dole  y«  iliwj  giicf  jot  viMet. 


»» 


ANONYMOUS 

'And  whatten  penance  will  yc  dtt«  Tot  thK, 

Edward,  EdwanlJ 
Wbattco  penance  will  ye  dm  for  tKuf 

My  dcM  son,  oow  ull  roc,  O.' 
'I'll  set  my  fc^c  in  yoadcr  boot, 

Mither,  mithfr; 
rU  set  my  fc«t  ID  yonder  boat. 
And  I'U  fare  over  ibc  tea,  O.' 


'And  what  will  ye  do  wi'  yovr  ti>w'n  ind  your  hs*, 

Edward,   Edward ! 
And  what  will  ye  do  wi'  your  tow'rs  Bnd  your  ht!. 

That  were  ste  Eiir  to  sec,  O." 
'I'll  In  tfafm  stand  till  they  douo  &', 

Mitliei,  mitlieri 
in  kt  tbera  tund  till  tbcy  doua  it', 

For  here  Devu  nuur  maun  I  Ik,  O.' 


*  And  what  will  ye  leave  to  your  biimx  and  yotir  wife, 

Edwatd,  Edward  J 
And  what  will  ye  leave  to  yoor  bairns  aod  yosr  wifi^ 

When  ye  jang  owrc  the  sea,  O  ?' 
'  The  warld's  room :   I«  them  beg  through  life^ 

Milhti,  mithert 
The  warld's  room:    let  them  beg  through  lifej 
For  ihcm  ncwr  mair  will  I  »et^  O." 


'And  what  will  ye  leare  to  your  mo  nuibcr  dew, 

Edward,  Edward  f 
And  what  will  }-e  leave  to  yoor  a!n  mhher  dear, 
My  dear  ion,  now  tcU  me,  01' 


ANONYMOUS 


E*  TIm  cune  of  beU  frae  me  »I1  yr  bcv, 
Mitbcr,  nuibert 
Tbe  cnrw  of  hell  frac  ni«  uU  yt  b«art 
Sic  coimsclf  yc  £3te  to  me,  O I ' 


i74- 


Edom  fi*  Gordon 


TT  fdl  about  the  Mkniniiua, 
^     When  the  wind  blew  ihril)  and  cauld, 
Said  Edom  o*  Gotdoo  to  bis  mni, 
*We  maun  draw  to  a  luukL 

'Afid  what  a  hsuLd  sail  «c  draw  to, 

My  tnerry  men  and  mef 
Wc  will  gae  to  the  houK  o'  the  Rodct, 

To  sec  tku  Tair  ladjre.' 

'Ilic  loJy  stood  oo  her  cuUe  wa*, 
Bdield  faaith  dile  and  down; 
en  the  wu  ware  of  a  hoot  of  men 
Cam  tkling  towards  the  town. 

L'O  aee  ye  not,  my  mnry  men  a*, 

0  see  ye  oot  what  \  vxi 
Mcthinlu  I  tee  i  hott  of  Eocn  t 

1  nujTcl  wlu  they  be.' 

She  ween'd  it  had  been  hcf  lovely  lord, 

As  he  cam  ntiiog  hnme ; 
It  was  tlie  traiiarr  Edom  o'  Cordon, 

Wha  reclcM  me  sin  nor  shaiae. 


«r 


ANONYMOUS 

She  had  nae  looott  buskit  hcucll, 

And  pBtun  on  bcr  gown. 
But  Edam  o'  Gorioa  u*  hb  boo 

Were  rociid  about  the  town. 

Tliey  hid  nae  sooner  luppcr  Kt, 

Nac  sooner  Mid  the  gnor. 
But  Edofli  o'  Cordon  in*  )ib  men 

Were  lighted  about  tbc  pboc. 

The  lady  no  np  to  her  tower^iead, 

Sac  fast  M  abe  ooutd  hie. 
To  tee  if  by  her  Air  speeches 

She  could  wi'  htm  agree. 

'Come  doun  to  me,  jre  lady  gay. 
Come  doua,  come  dotm  to  me; 

This  night  ull  yv  Itg  witlun  miae  amis, 
To-monow  my  bride  uU  be.' 

'I  wiaoa  cotae  dovn,  ye  &ls  Gordon, 
I  wimu  come  down  to  tfaeet 

I  wiana  forsake  my  tin  dor  lord, 
Tbn  ii  «c  far  (ne  me.' 

'  Gie  owie  yosr  bovse,  yc  lady  fair. 

Gie  ovin  your  boose  to  niej 
Or  1  sail  brenD  yowacl  tnereiQf 

Bat  and  youi  babies  thiee.* 

*I  wifina  gie  owre,  yc  bla  Gordo*, 

To  DK  sic  tiaitar  aa  yec| 
And  if  yc  bmui  my  am  dear  babe*, 

My  lord  all  mak  yc  dne. 


ti«>kit]u(lKd. 

4* 


ANONYMOUS 

*Now  mcb  mj  pistol,  Gbnd,  mj  nuo, 

Asit  chaxgc  ye  wcci  mj'  f^un; 
For,  but  Ml  I  p»CTCC  Uut  bluidy  bBlchcr, 

My  babct,  w«  beta  usdoK  1  * 

Sbe  Mood  ttpoa  ber  ctstlr  w^, 

Aiui  let  tws  bullets  ilcc! 
She  miu'd  that  bliudy  Ixitcber'a  bout, 

And  only  razed  fais  luiee. 

'Set  life  (o  the  houKl '  <iao'  fab  Gordon, 

All  wikI  wi'  dulc  aod  tre: 
'Fob  Ldy,  ye  sill  rue  tlvis  dad 

A)  ye  braia  in  the  £re  I ' 

*Wm  wonli,  wx  wortli  ye,  Jock,  my  nan  I 

I  paid  ye  wecl  your  fvei 
Why  pu*  ye  oat  ihc  giund-wa*  uanc, 

Leu  ia  the  teek  to  aui 

'Aod  e*«s  wac  wonh  ye.  Jock,  my  man  I 

I  foid  ye  wtd  your  biic; 
Why  pa*  ye  out  tbe  gnmd-wa'  sunc, 

To  me  lets  in  the  fire  f 

*Y<  paid  ne  we(4  ny  hire,  ladye. 

Ye  foid  me  v-crl  my  fee : 
But  DOW  Tm  I^m  o'  Goidoa's  nrni^ 

Maun  eitber  do  or  dic>* 

0  tben  beapdLc  bcr  little  mm, 

Sat  on  the  anirsc'a  knee: 
Sayv,  '  Milker  dear,  gie  owre  tlii»  bouc, 

For  the  teek  it  uiuik<-re  mc.' 


Cmndv«a']  jfrouid-walL 


4^ 


ANONYMOUS 

'I  wkI  gie  a'  vof  gowd,  mjr  baini, 

Sh  wad  I  ■'  my  fee. 
For  M  bUst  o*  the  wcnmi  wiod, 

To  blaw  tbe  leck  the  the*,' 

O  iben  besjuVe  her  dochter  dcar^ 

Sbc  was  bsith  jimp  Hid  smft': 
'  0  row  mc  b  a  pair  o'  sbwta, 

And  [ow  me  owre  ilie  wa'  I  * 

They  row'd  her  ia  a  pur  o'  ibeels, 

And  low'd  her  owrc  tbc  wa'; 
But  on  tbe  point  o'  Condoo's  sjxsr 

She  gut  a  deadly  £a*. 

0  boniuc,  boniuc  was  bcr  itwutb, 
And  cherry  were  bcr  cbeiks, 

And  clear,  dear  w:i3  her  yellow  bdr, 
Wbcreoo  tbe  ted  blood  dieips. 

ThiMi  wi'  his  vptw  he  turn'd  her  owrc) 

0  gin  bcr  face  wu  wane  I 
Ho  said,  '  Vc  are  the  firet  that  e'er 

1  wisb'd  alive  a^in.* 

He  turn'd  her  owrc  and  owre  again; 

0  gin  her  ^in  vss  white! 
*I  might  hae  spared  that  boBnic  face 

To  hae  been  some  nun's  deltght. 

'Bd^Ic  and  boDD,  my  mercy  men  »\ 
Pot  tU  dooms  I  do  guess  t 

1  canna  look  in  that  bonnie  lace 
As  it  lies  00  tbe  grass.' 

row]  wrap.  Bulk  and  boas]  tdor  ' 


|Ibw)  deader,  (rim. 
WptMtUSm  to  go. 


ANONYMOUS 

*  Wba  iook>  to  (Vdui,  my  motet  dew, 
It's  fretu  will  follow  then] 

Let  it  Dc'cr  be  said  that  Edom  o'  Gonlon 
Wu  <Uuntcd  bj  a  daae.' 

I  But  wlwo  th«  lady  mw  tlie  fire 
Coiae  Aaatng  owic  her  head, 
Sbc  wept,  and  luss'd  bcr  childten  twain, 
Sqrs,  'Bairas,  we  been  but  dead.' 

The  GordoD  then  bi>  bugle  blew, 

Aod  said,  *AwB*,  awa'l 
This  bouse  o'  the  Rodcs  is  >'  !a  a  flame  | 

I  banld  h  time  to  ga'.' 

And  tkn  way  looIcH  her  lin  dear  lord. 

As  lie  caoi  owre  the  lea; 
He  saw  his  ostle  a'  to  a  lowe, 

As  &r  n  he  could  see. 

Then  vSr,  O  sair,  his  miod  nn^ave, 
And  aU  hb  heart  was  waci 

'Put  on,  |nt  00,  my  wiglity  men, 
Sae  htt  as  ye  caa  gae. 

•Ptt  on,  put  00,  my  wij^ty  men, 

Sac  fast  as  yc  can  dnel 
For  he  that's  hitidroivit  o*  the  thrang 

Sail  ne'er  get  good  o'  ne.' 

Ttn  aoBut  they  nde,  and  sonw  they  raa, 

Oot-owre  the  grass  and  bemi 
fB«t  eie  the  foccmast  could  wia  op, 
Baith  lady  and  babes  were  brent. 

a>it»HUoiiiffc  lowcJUune.  wichty]  nhnblb. 


ANONYMOUS 

Asd  after  the  Gordon  he  is  gme. 

Sic  fast  as  be  might  dric; 
And  soon  i'  the  Cordon's  fbd  hnrt's  btnife ' 

He's  vTokeo  bis  dear  Udyc. 


VS' 


The  fern's  Marie 


MARin  HAMILTON'S  lo  ibc  kiA  pw, 
Wi'  ribbons  in  her  halri 
The  Kinf;  thought  mair  o*  Mari«  Hafniluo 
Tbm  oay  that  were  there. 

Marie  HamUtoa's  to  the  kirV  gne 

Wi'  ribboos  oa  her  breast; 
Tbe  KiD£  tbou^t  raair  o'  Marie  Haimlton 

Than  he  listca'd  to  the  priest 

Marie  Hamiltoa  '■  to  th«  kirk  gaor, 

Wi'  jtloTcs  1^^  bcr  hands; 
The  King  thought  nuir  cp*  Marie  Hamiltoa 

Than  the  Qoeen  and  a'  ha  laods. 

She  had&a  been  about  the  Kbg's  coun 

A  month,  but  budy  one, 
im  she  was  betofrd  by  a'  the  Ktug's  court 

And  the  KioA  the  only  naaa> 

She  hadna  beea  about  the  King's  com 

A  month,  but  barely  three. 
Till  frae  the  Kbg's  court  Marie  Hamilton 

Marie  HamUtoo  duntna  be. 

cken]  atoEtA 

43' 


ANONYMOUS 

Tbe  King  Is  to  the  Abbey  gans 

To  pa'  tbe  Abbey  tm, 
To  sole  the  babe  frae  Marie's  heart  | 

But  tbe  thing  it  wadna  be. 

O  &he  has  row'd  it  is  hef  apron, 

And  set  it  00  the  sea — 
*Cae  Ml  ye  or  swim  ye,  bonny  babe, 

YeSc  get  ue  nmr  o'  mc' 

WenI  is  to  tbe  kitchen  fpst. 

And  word  is  to  tbe  ha', 
Aod  word  b  to  tbe  noble  room 

Aau4g  tbe  ladim  a', 
That  Marie  Hamihon's  brought  lo  bed. 

And  tbe  boo&y  babe's  nuts'd  aad  awa*. 

Scarcely  bad  she  Iain  down  agaio. 

And  scarcely  fa'en  asieep, 
When  up  and  scaited  ow  gade  Qoeen 

Just  at  ber  bed-feet; 
Sayrng — 'Marie  Hamilton,  wfaere's  your  babe? 

For  I  am  rare  I  heard  it  greet.' 

'0  DO,  O  DO,  my  noble  Queen  I 

Tbiak  BO  sic  thing  to  bet 
n*WB  bat  a  iiitdi  into  my  ude, 

And  sair  it  troubles  nw  1 ' 

'Get  (^  get  up,  Mnic  Haniiltont 

Get  np  aod  fallow  me ; 
Pot  I  am  going  to  Edinburgh  town, 

A  rich  wedding  for  to  see.' 

vnppcd.  fRttJ  aj. 

m 


ANONYMOUS 

O  ilowly,  slowlf  ase  she  u[^ 
And  slowly  put  sbe  oat 

And  slowly  rade  xbe  out  the  wsf 
Wi'  taoaj  ■  wcaty  giauL 

The  Qoecn  wis  clad  in  sculet, 
Her  merry  maids  >I1  in  gmoj 

And  rrcry  town  that  ihcy  cam  to. 
They  took  Miric  for  the  Qc 


*  Ride  hooiy,  booty,  geotlnnei^ 
Ride  booty  now  wi'  roe  I 

Foi  ncTcr,  I  am  sure,  ft  wcvier  bunl 
Rade  ia  j'our  cooijunic,' — 

But  little  wist  Maiie  Hamtltoa, 
When  she  nde  on  the  btown, 

Tiiat  the  was  gacQ  to  Edicbui^  u>wB| 
And  a'  to  be  put  down. 

•Why  weep  ye  W,  yc  burgess  wivo, 
Why  look  yc  so  on  me  ? 

O  I  xm  guiajt  to  £diiibiu][h  town, 
A  rich  wedding  to  nee.' 

When  the  gard  op  the  lolbooth  auin^ 
The  cotks  fiac  bci  bee^B  did  fleet 

And  laag  or  e'er  she  cmi  down  ag^ 
She  wu  ooodeiaa'd  to  die. 

When  bhe  cim  to  the  Nethcrbow  port, 

She  Isu^'d  loud  laugbtere  three) 
But  wbeo  she  came  to  tbe  gallows  foot 
The  tears  blinded  ber  e't. 
booty]  eenily. 


ANONYMOUS 

'TwTMB  tlie  Qatea  hod  four  Marie*, 
Tbe  Wghl  «he'll  h»e  but  tfatrr; 

Thtfe  wu  Marie  Sciron,  aad  Miric  Btxioit, 
And  Msric  CanucbMl,  tiid  mc. 

*0  often  hsTe  I  drcu'd  my  Qoeca 

And  put  gowd  upon  Iter  hai/ ; 
But  oow  I'tc  gotten  fiir  my  reward 

Tbe  gallows  to  bt  my  sbirc. 

'Often  hate  I  dres&'d  my  Queen 

And  ofxa  nude  ber  bed; 
But  oow  I'tc  goucn  for  my  reward 

Tbe  gallowi  tree  to  tread. 

*I  chuge  ye  all,  )iT  mariners, 

When  yo  tail  owre  tbe  faem, 
Let  ontber  my  father  nor  mother  jet  wit 

But  that  Vm  oomiog  hame. 

*I  charge  y«  oD,  ye  nurioers, 

Ttut  tail  Qpon  the  aca, 
Thai  DritlMT  my  father  oor  n»ther  get  wit 

The  dc«'a  ckath  I'm  to  die. 

*  For  if  my  father  and  mother  got  wit, 

And  my  bold  brethren  three, 
O  midJc  wad  be  the  gsde  red  bluJe 

TUs  day  wad  be  S[alt  for  me ! 

'O  little  did  my  mother  ken, 

Tbe  day  she  aidkd  me. 
The  laDds  I  wu  to  trarel  in 

Or  the  dea:h  I  was  to  die !  * 


ANONYMOUS 


i7rf. 


Bhtmrie 


''THERE  were  twa  Mwcra  eat  in  a  boori 
^       Bimtnt,  0  Bimunel 
There  cam  a  knigbt  to  be  their  wooer, 
Bj  ibt  itmt  milUamt  «'  Biiaufu. 

He  couited  the  cUleA  with  gidte  and  ring, 
Bui  he  lo'ed  liie  yonnsctt  abane  a'  thing. 

The  ctdesi  she  W33  *cxM  fair, 
And  var  mAcd  her  ioui  fur. 

Upon  a  morniD£  fair  and  clear, 
Khe  cried  upon  hn  inter  dear: 

*0  sister,  uster,  talc  my  band. 

And  let'»  go  down  to  the  river^trand.' 

She 's  la'cD  Ita  by  the  %  haad, 
And  Ud  her  down  to  the  riTcr-tuand. 

The  youcsest  stood  u|>oa  a  stane, 
The  ddot  cam  aad  jiushM  her  in. 

'  0  sister,  sirtcr,  rc&ch  yonr  hand  ! 
And  ye  salt  be  heir  o'  half  my  lindt 

*0  sister,  reach  me  but  your  glove  t 
And  iwe«  W'tUiani  sal)  be  your  love.* 

Sometimfs  she  sank,  sometinies  ^  swsn, 
Until  she  cam  to  tbe  miller's  dam. 

Out  then  earn  the  miller's  son. 
And  saw  the  £iir  maid  soummiit*  m. 

'  O  fither,  ftthcr,  draw  your  dam  I 
Then:'*  cither  8  mermaid  or  a  milk-wluir  9wST 
tCDmmin'l  twlmmiiig- 


I 
I 


ANONYMOUS 

Thr  miller  baxted  waA  drew  \aa  dam, 
And  ibcrc  he  fouod  a  drown'd  womli^ 

You  covldiu  MS  her  tiuddlo  Hiu', 
Her  fftwdat  girdle  w»  ue  btaw. 

You  couldu  KC  bcr  liljr  fctt, 
Her  ^wdcn  ftingo  we/c  lac  deep. 

AU  araog  her  ycliow  hiir 

A  Btrins  o'  |>culs  wns  twitted  nre. 

Yoo  coddna  *«  her  fingera  soia*, 

Wi*  dtaiiMBd  tiag,%  ttiej  were  oorer'd  a'. 

And  by  there  cam  a  hirper  fine, 
That  harph  to  the  king  at  dinr. 

And  when  be  Inok'd  that  lady  on, 
He  (igb'd  aitd  tiude  a  heavy  moan. 

He's  made  a  harp  of  her  bmst-baae, 
Whose  sound  wul  melt  a  heati  of  sta»e> 

He's  ta'en  thi«e  locks  o*  her  yellow  hak. 
And  «i'  them  utrung  ht»  harp  sae  rare. 

He  went  into  her  father'*  hall, 

And  tbcre  wu  the  court  auvmblcd  all. 

He  laid  bis  harp  upon  a  suor. 

And  sinigbt  it  began  to  pUy  by  lane. 

'O  yooder  nis  my  father,  the  King, 
And  yooder  sits  my  mother,  the  (^xm  t 


ANONYMOUS 

'And  yonder  standt  my  brother  Hugh, 
And  by  bim  my  WiQiam,  >wcct  aod  true' 

But  the  Ust  tune  tbM  ilw  barp  pliy'd  tbrn- 

Bhmmt,  O  Smatrif/ 
Was,  •  Woe  to  my  soMt,  falve  Helta  I ' 

£y  lit  iuaiv  mH!<iimi  tf  StMnorif. 

i77-     The  Bonnie  Hwse  o'  j4ir/Je 

TT  (ell  oa  a  day,  and  a  bonnie  vimnwr  diy, 
''     Whra  green  grew  ■>[>  aad  biirley, 
That  tlwre  fell  out  a  gmt  ili$|iuu 
Between  AigyQ  aod  Airlic. 

Argyll  hat  raised  an  hundcr  meo. 

An  hundcr  haractsM  mdy, 
And  he's  awa'  by  the  back  of  Duokell, 

To  plunder  the  cutle  of  Atriic. 

L.iciy  Ogiltic  lookn  o'er  her  bower-winiiow, 

And  0  but  she  looks  warHy ! 
And  iticrc  she  spied  ibe  gmt  Argyll, 

Come  to  pliinder  the  boDoie  house  of  AiHir. 

'Come  down,  come  down,  my  Lady  Ogilrk^ 
Come  down  and  kUi  me  Gtirly:' 

'  0  I  wiona  kiss  the  bute  Argyll, 

If  he  sliouldoa  leave  s  sunding  sune  in 

He  hath  taken  her  by  the  left  shouliter, 
Says,  '  Dame,  where  lies  thy  dowry  i ' 

'O  it's  east  and  west  yea  wan  wster  side, 
And  it's  dowa  by  the  banks  of  the  Aitlie.' 
40 


ANONYMOUS 


They  hae  tcniglit  It  Bp,  they  hae  song^it  it  down, 
"^xy  hte  souglit  it  nuist  BercKljr, 
^^TUI  they  hoi  It  b  the  &ir  plwn-tree 
^m    That  ihiocit  co  the  bowling-greea  of  Aalir. 

He  hath  ukcB  ha  hy  Hit  nuddle  He  smaU, 
And  O  but  the  giat  niily! 
^^Atxi  laid  her  down  by  the  bomue  bum-riJi^ 
^K    TiU  they  jilufidcT'd  ibc  caide  of  AJrlit;. 


'GtT  my  gndc  iofd  war  here  this  oight, 
A«  he  b  with  King  C1i»riie, 

I  Neither  you,  our  <ioy  tihcr  ScMti^i  lord, 
I    Dum  a:TOW  to  the  fJundcrbji  of  Airlie. 


'  Gtf  my  gudc  lord  war  now  at  hame, 

As  he  is  wi'Ji  hia  kiag, 
There  durst  nae  a  Campbell  in  ^  Argyll 

Set  fit  on  Airiie  grtcn. 


I 


'Ten  boonie  mos  I  have  bome  noto  lum, 
Tbe  deTcntb  oe'et  saw  his  daddyi 

But  thong^  1  bid  aa  buader  finir, 
rd  £ie  them  a*  to  King  Chulie  I ' 


i78.      The  trije  of  Usher's  tVell 

I     'THERE  liwd  a  wife  at  Udier-*  well, 
*       And  a  wealthy  wife  wa«  she; 
She  had  tlirec  stout  and  Kalwait  sons, 
And  KM  them  o'er  the  sea. 


m 


ANONYMOUS 

Tbrjr  tuuliu  been  i  week  fnm  her, 

A  week  but  bardy  ene, 
When  ia«rd  canc  U>  the  carlinc  wife 

ThM  her  tbne  soos  were  nanc. 

Tbey  bxlna  been  a  week  from  her, 

A  week  but  b>rcly  ilitve. 
Wltn  word  came  U>  die  catlioe  infe 

Tim  her  sons  she'd  netcr  see. 

*  I  wiiJi  the  wind  may  nerer  cc«e^ 

Nor  bahn  in  the  flood. 
Till  my  diree  sou  come  banw  to  me 

In  cvthljr  A»h  and  UoodI ' 

It  fell  about  the  Mardnnuts, 

When  nights  arc  Isng  aad  mirk, 

llie  curlinr  wife's  tliiee  sons  caim  haoKf 
And  their  hais  were  o'  tiic  UrL 

It  neither  grew  in  syke  nor  dhdi. 

Nor  y«t  in  onjr  shciigh  ; 
But  at  the  gates  o*  Paradise 

That  bilk  £Ttw  fair  eonigfa. 

'  Blow  up  the  lire,  my  maidcni  I 
Bring  water  from  the  well! 

For  a'  my  houw  shall  feast  this  Bigbtr 
Since  my  tlirce  soos  arc  welL' 

And  «he  has  made  to  them  a  bed. 
She  'x  made  it  large  and  wide  t 

And  xhe  's  ta'en  her  manUc  her  dxiat, 
Sat  down  at  ihe  bcdnde. 
iMlit*]  troubln.  aykfj  inanti.  (hcaghj  trwthi 


ANONYMOUS 

Up  then  <TCw  the  red,  red  cock, 

Aad  up  and  crew  the  gray ; 
The  ddeu  to  the  youngest  said, 

'  Tis  time  wc  wcrt  avjy.' 

The  cock  be  hadna  craw'd  but  once, 

Aad  difrp'd  l)i»  wingf  nt  a', 
Wbm  tbc  younecsi  to  the  cklest  said, 

'Brother,  we  mint  awa*. 

■The  cock  doth  crsw,  the  day  doth  <hvi. 

The  chaaneriD*  wonn  doth  clndei 
Gin  we  be  miss'd  out  o'  our  plao^ 

A  stir  jaia  we  nuuo  bide.* 

*  Lie  still,  lie  ttitt  but  a  little  wtc  while. 

Lie  ttill  but  if  we  may; 
GtD  my  nxxber  should  miss  u»  whco  the  wakes, 
Sbe'U  go  itud  ere  it  be  day.' 

*  FiiT  ye  wed,  roy  mother  dew  I 

Fareveel  to  bora  and  byrel 
And  fare  ye  wed,  the  bonoy  lasa 
That  kindles  my  tnoihcr'S  fiml* 


3Tfi.  The  Three  Havens 

^HERE  wete  three  taresi  nt  on  a  tree, 
*      They  were  as  black  as  they  might  he. 

The  one  of  them  sud  to  his  nulLe, 
•Where  shaU  we  our  breakfast  uke>' 

.  flhaaMriol  fretlli^  $j9,  n»k«]  male. 


ANONYMOUS 

•Down  in  yonder  gtceni  field 

Thttv  \«9  a  knight  lUin  under  his  ttiEcUt 

'His  hounds  they  Ue  dovn  at  his  fen. 
So  well  do  they  tbeir  nuster  keep  | 

'  Hi*  hawks  ihey  flie  bo  eagerly, 
There  's  do  fowl  dare  come  bim  nigh. 

*Down  there  cotan  a  rillow  doe 

As  great  with  young  n  she  mjght  goc. 

'She  lift  up  his  bloody  bead 

Aod  kist  his  wouods  ihsi  tmt  m  red. 

'She  pit  him  up  upon  her  bock 
And  carried  him  to  eanhen  lake. 

*Sbe  burini  him  brfore  the  prime. 

She  was  dead  IterselF  crc  evensong  rin>& 

'  God  send  every  gentlernao 

Sudi  hounds,  such  hawks,  and  such  a  leman.* 


380.  The  Twa  Qtrhies 

(aCQTTtSK   VIKSiIOh) 

A  S  1  was  w-alking  atl  alane 
^^     I  heard  twa  coibie*  makinx  •  inanfi 
The  une  onto  tbe  tiiher  did  say, 
*  Whar  mU  we  ^ng  and  diae  the  day  i  * 

jSo.  oorbfes]  rarcna. 


ANONYMOUS 

'—Is  behiiu  yoa  aukl  {u\  ijke 
I  wot  there  Gea  a  oewslain  knight; 
And  noebody  kea«  that  he  liM  ihrrr 
But  his  Kawk,  Itis  Ivouxid,  *od  hb  bdy  fa!r. 

'  Hi*  hound  is  to  llw  Imnting  gaor, 
Hi^  hawk  to  fetch  the  viM-foul  hBtnc> 
Hi«  Udy'ft  u'cn  amilter  nutc, 
So  we  mtjr  timk  our  dinner  iwml 

'Yell  >it  on  his  wliiic  hausc-boe, 
And  III  [like  out  hb  boaay  blue  e'cat 
Wi'  *c  lock  o'  liti  gowden  hair 
We'll  Ui«ek  our  dc«  when  it  groikB  th.rT. 

*Mony  ■  one  Tor  lum  tatka  manr. 
But  noiK'  mII  ken  whar  be  is  gane : 
O'er  bis  white  buies,  when  tbey  are  bare, 
The  wind  nil  blaw  for  evcrmair.' 


THIS  w  nig)ite,  Oms  at  ni^hu, 
*        — Every  mgttt  anJ  aiie. 
File  and  sleet  and  cuuUe-ligbte, 
/fw/  Ciriitt  ntfive  lily  taatf. 

When  thon  (ron  bence  away  art  [Ost, 

— Eviry  nigklt  aaJ  tfft. 
To  Whinny-muir  ibou  com'n  at  East; 

jfmi  CiritU  neavf  ibj  Mtilt. 

UX\tait.       htmejMdi.       tbeck] dutob.       j»i.  ilKtiwli. 


ANONYMOUS 

If  ciKi  thou  ganat  bosen  lod  ahoon, 

—Every  mgble  iW  «&, 
Sit  thcc  dowit  ind  [vil  llicm  on| 

^W  Chriilt  rrtrhf  thy  tauit. 

If  hoKD  mi  shoot)  thou  ne'er  gn'st  Dane, 

^Evtry  nfgiu  mJ  aSe, 
The  vliinnrs  mII  prick  ihee  to  tfae  bore  bane; 

Aitd  ChriUt  rrttivi  thy  lauk. 

From  Whinnir-iiiiur  when  thou  iMy'st  fua, 

— Svtry  aigbu  and  aHe, 
To  Br^  o'  Dread  thou  coa'st  At  Uu; 

jM  Cbritte  mctht  ihy  taatf. 

Prom  Brig  o'  Drend  when  tbou  taxf'si  jicb, 

— Evrtj  nigtlt  and  aSt, 
To  PttrgatOTy  fire  thou  com'st  tt  lait( 

jJW  Ciri/le  renivt  thy  toA. 

If  etvT  ihou  given  mm  or  drink, 

— Every  mgbit  and  alle, 
Tbe  £re  sail  never  make  thee  shrink; 

^hJ  Chrittt  rtaiw  thy  laJi. 

If  neat  or  drink  thou  ne'er  £sr'st  tnae, 

— Every  mghu  and  ■!&, 
The  fire  will  bum  thee  to  the  bare  bwie) 

jiiui  CbritU  rttdvt  ihy  lault. 

This  ae  nighte,  this  nc  Di^hle, 

— Every  nighle  and  iiUe, 
Fire  and  sictt  and  candle-lighic, 

vfiw/  Chriitt  reahr  thy  *mU. 


ANONYMOUS 


tJ,  The  Seven  p^irgms. 


A  CAKOt 

A  LL  under  ibc  Iratn  Mid  the  leans  of  Efe 
**     I  met  witli  vir|;iRs  leren, 
And  oae  of  thvm  wis  Mary  mild, 
Our  Lord's  Diother  of  Hecven. 

'O  whK  an  yOB  tcclui^,  you  seven  bat  maid*, 

All  under  the  Icarcs  tX  life  f 
Come  tdl,  come  tell,  what  seek  yoa 

All  UDder  the  teit»  of  UTei' 

'We're  Making  for  no  loitn,  Thoma*, 

But  for  a  friend  of  ihinc ; 
We're  seeking  fof  $ut«i  JrsuB  Christ, 

To  be  our  guide  end  thtoe.* 

'Go  (lovn,  ffi  down,  to  yonder  town. 

And  sit  in  the  i^lery, 
And  ibere  youll  tee  xweet  Jesus  CliriM 

Niil'd  to  a  big  )'cw-txre.' 

So  down  they  went  to  yonder  town 

As  fast  as  foot  could  fall, 
And  maay  a  grievous  bitter  tesr 

From  the  virgins*  eye»  did  fall. 

'O  peace,  Mother,  O  peace,  Mother, 

Your  wecpuig  doth  me  grierct 
I  must  niffcr  this'  He  uid, 

*Por  Adam  and  for  Etc. 


ANONYMOUS 

'O  Mother,  take  you  John  Emigclist 

All  for  to  be  jraur  urn, 
Aad  lie  w!U  comfort  yon  sometimes, 

Mother,  «s  I  hare  done.' 

'O  come,  thou  John  Evangelist, 

Tliciu'it  wdcoHM  uato  mei 
But  more  wdcome  n^  own  dear  Son, 

Whom  I  nuned  on  my  knee.' 

Then  He  laid  liis  head  on  His  riglii  tit 
Seeing  death  k  Urock  Him  nigh — 

'THc  Holy  Ghou  be  witli  your  soul, 
1  die,  Mother  dear,  1  die.' 

O  the  rose,  the  geatle  rose, 

And  the  fennel  dut  grows  so  green ! 
God  give  us  grace  in  every  place 

To  pny  for  our  king  end  <juccn. 

Purthcnnore  for  our  enemiot  all 

Our  prayeti  they  should  be  wrong: 

Amen,  good  Lord ;   your  chamy 
It  the  ending  of  my  song. 


38}.  Two  Siwrt 

CAYS  Tuewl  to  'nil— 

•^      'What  g*ra  ye  rin  aoe  stfllJ' 

Say»  Till  to  T^-eed— 
'Thoush  je  rin  with  speed 

And  I  ria  slaw, 
Tor  ae  man  tiut  yc  draon 

I  dtooD  twa/ 


ANONYMOUS 


Cradle  Song 

/~\   MY  deu  ben,  youi^  Jesui  9W«l, 
^^      Prepare  thy  cmldil  in  lay  sprat, 
Aad  I  aSi  rock  thee  ia  my  lien 
And  Devcr  raair  from  tbc«  depart. 

But  I  ssU  pcaiK  thre  eiTrmoir 
With  nn^«  >«-cit  unto  thy  gloar; 
The  knm  of  my  ticrt  sail  I  bow. 
And  uii£  that  ricfat  Baiu/aJw/ 


M' 


[Y  blood  u  red 

For  tji(«  WIS  ihed, 
Cook  boeie  a^in,  come  home  ^»ni 
My  own  swtet  htart,  coaie  home  Jgainl 
You'tc  goDc  utTiiy 
Out  of  your  nay, 
Come  bocnc  tgaa,  come  horue  igMii ' 

^Sff.     Tic  Bmny  Earl  of  Murray 

VE  HtgblaDds  and  ye  Lawbndt, 

O  where  hoc  ye  been? 
They  hu  slain  the  Ear)  of  Murray, 
And  hue  bid  Iuri  oo  the  ^reeo. 

Now  WM  be  to  thee,  HomJeyl 
And  whairforc  did  yc  sact 

1  bode  you  briBf-  bixn  wi'  yvra^ 
But  forbade  you  him  to  alay. 


4« 


ANONYMOUS 

He  was  «  braw  ^am, 

And  he  rkl  at  the  lingi 
And  ihe  booajr  Eul  of  Murray. 

O  he  migKt  hae  bno  a  kin^  I 

He  <ras  ■  bra*  gallmt^ 
And  he  play'd  M  the  ba'i 

And  tbe  bonny  Earl  of  Mumy 
Wa5  the  flower  anung  them  a' I 

He  va.1  a  bnw  gallant, 
Aod  he  pby'd  at  tlx  gbvct 

Aod  the  bonny  Earl  of  Mumy, 
O  he  was  tbe  Queen's  la*el 

0  lang  will  bis  Lady 

Look  owrc  tbe  Cauk  Dowse, 
En;  she  arc  the  Earl  of  Mwny 

Come  Gounding  tLrougb  the  town  I 


^ 


3S7. 


Helen  of  KJnonntll 


T  WISH  I  were  wheit  Hdcn  lie^ 
'*'     Night  and  day  on  me  tJie  cries; 
O  tb«t  I  were  where  Helen  lies, 
On  fair  Kirconncll  lea  I 

Curat  be  the  bean  that  thought  the  ihou^t, 
And  cur^  the  hand  that  £icd  ibe  shot, 
When  in  my  arms  bard  Helen  drojit, 
And  died  to  succour  me  I 

O  think  oa  ye  my  bean  was  sair, 
Whi-Q  my  Lore  dropp'd  and  ^dk  nae  mairl 
There  did  she  swoon  wi'  nwDJe  care, 
On  £iir  Kirconncll  lea. 


ANONYMOUS 

Aa  I  wvM  down  ihe  wtaa  (kte, 
NoB«  but  Riy  foe  to  be  mj  ffiaAr, 
None  bat  my  fof  to  be  iny  {uidc, 
On  liiir  Kirconodl  Inj 

f  ligbuxl  dowB  my  sword  to  dnw, 
I  hackM  bin)  id  pieces  sna*, 
1  backid  bioi  in  fkca  sm', 
Fof  her  take  tlul  died  for  me. 

O  Helto  fair,  beyond  componrt 
III  tnak  a  garlaod  o'  thy  hai^. 
Shall  Uod  my  Iteart  foe  erermalr, 
Until  the  day  I  die! 

O  tb«  I  were  urbere  Helen  be«! 
Night  and  day  on  tne  she  cmt ; 
Out  of  my  bed  she  bids  me  ritie. 
Says,  *  Haite,  and  come  to  me ! ' 

0  Helen  fair !  O  Helen  chaste ! 
tf  I  were  with  thee,  I'd  be  bleit. 
Where  thou  lies  low  and  taks  thy  test. 

On  bar  Kucoandl  ha. 

1  wiih  my  gnve  vim  growing  gtven, 
A  wiflding>»hcct  drawn  owre  oiy  e'en, 
Asd  I  in  Helen's  anm  lying, 

On  fair  Kirconaelt  lea. 

I  widi  I  were  where  Helen  lies! 
Night  and  day  on  me  she  cnes; 
And  I  am  weary  of  ibc  skies, 
Foi  her  «dte  tbM  died  fix  me. 


4» 


ANONYMOUS 


i8S. 


tVafy,  Wafy 


r\  WALY,  waJy,  up  ibe  Iwok. 
^^     And  uily,  waly,  doun  the  bn«, 
And  waty,  mily,  yon  bara^ide. 

Where  I  nnd  my  Lote  wool  to  giicl 
I  lon'd  my  back  unto  an  aik, 

I  thodu  it  VM  a  trauit  titti 
But  £rei  ic  boVd  sod  sync  it  bnk — 

Sai-  roy  true  lotc  did  Ikbtlie  me. 

O  waly,  waly,  gia  love  be  Bonnie 

A  liiiJc  time  while  H  i<  new  I 
Uui  when  'tis  autd  it  w^xeth  cauldi 

And  fades  swa'  like  morning  deiv. 
O  whercAiie  should  I  busk  my  bdd. 

Or  whtrerort  should  I  kame  my  lujr  I 
For  ray  tme  Love  has  me  fonook, 

And  ^ys  heli  never  lo'e  me  mair. 

Now  Atthur's  Sent  ull  be  my  bed, 

Ttie  sheets  sail  ne'er  be  'lUcd  by  me  i 
Sunt  Anion's  well  sail  be  my  diink; 

Since  my  true  Low  lias  fonokcn  me, 
Marti'mu  wind,  uben  wilt  thon  bliw, 

And  shuke  the  giecn  leaves  aff  the  tree  f 
O  gende  X)eath,  wlicn  witt  thoa  come  i 

For  of  my  lilc  I  am  wcaiie^ 

Tia  not  the  frost,  that  freezes  fell, 
Nor  blowing  muw's  inclcmcnci^ 

1%  not  »c  uuld  tbac  make*  me  cryj 
But  my  Lore's  hcan  fiowa  ciuld  to  me. 


ANONYMOUS 

WhcB  we  cam  in  by  CImjow  tow), 
Wc  were  ■  coioelf  stclit  (o  see  [ 

My  Lore  wax  dwl  in  the  black  veh^ 
And  I  mysci  in  cramasic. 

had  I  wHt,  before  1  ktsi, 
TIhc  lote  had  been  sac  ill  to  irin, 
I  bad  lock'd  my  ban  in  a  ax  o'  gowd, 

And  ptnn'd  it  wi'  a  sUler  pin. 
And  0  !   if  my  young  bibe  were  boni, 
And  Kt  upoo  the  nunc's  kner; 
rAod  1  myscI  were  dead  and  gtoc, 

Aod  the  green  g(*is  growing  over  nel 

l^Sj/.         Barbara  Allen's  Cruelt/ 

[N  Scarlet  town,  where  I  wa>  bora, 
There  W39  a  fair  maid  dwrilin', 
dc  eiwry  yocth  cry  Ifrff-a-voj ! 
Her  name  wa»  Batbim  Allen. 

All  ia  the  nicrty  nmoth  of  May, 

Wb«o  s,Twa  buds  thry  were  sweltin', 
Fou^  Jemmy  Grove  oo  bis  death-bed  lay. 
For  love  of  Barbara  Allen. 

He  tent  bis  nun  in  to  her  then. 

To  the  town  where  she  was  dwellin', 

'O  banc  lad  cork  to  my  masm  dear, 
If  your  name  be  Barton  Alio.' 

slowly,  slowly  rase  she  up, 
And  dowly  she  came  nigh  him, 
And  when  she  drew  the  cuHain  by— 
'Yoeng  nun,  I  tfaialc  you're  dpn'.' 
i^U.  oamaikj  ouiaon. 


ANONYMOUS 

'O  it's  I  am  sick  and  very  very  sick, 
And  it  '9  all  For  Barbua  Allen.' 

'O  the  beiwr  for  roe  ye'ac  wwr  be, 
'Dio'  jrouT  hnn'i  blood  were  a-s|tllia'l 

*0  dinaa  )-g  miod,  young  man,'  sayti  she, 
'  When  ihc  red  wiae  yc  weie  ClIJD*, 

That  ye  made  the  bealthi  (,o  round  and  rou 
And  iliKhted  Baihua  Allen?' 

He  tumM  hb  face  uoto  the  waII, 

And  death  was  with  him  dea&n'  1 
'  Adim,  adieu,  my  dear  firjmds  all. 

And  be  kind  to  Kutura  Alien ! ' 
As  she  wxs  walking  o'er  tbc  fields, 

She  beard  tbc  dcad-bell  kDcllin'  1 
And  e*ery  jow  ihc  dead-bell  gate 

Cntd  'Woe  to  Baifain  Allen.' 
'0  mother,  mother,  make  my  bed, 

O  make  it  saft  and  narrow : 
Mjr  love  has  died  foe  me  to-4lay, 

I'll  die  for  bim  to-morrow. 
'  Farewell,'  she  said,  *  ye  virgins  all. 

And  nhun  the  fiult  I  fell  in: 
Henccfonh  take  wanriog  by  the  fall 

Of  cruel  13.»itiara  Allen." 


3p0. 


'Pipe  anJ  Caa 
I 


'T'HE  Indiiin  weed  wiihcrW  quote; 

'     Green  n  mora,  cut  dow'n  at  night; 

Shows  thy  decay:  all  Qcsh  is  bay: 

Thus  think,  then  drink  Tobacco. 
)ow|  bMt,  toll. 


ANOMYMOUS 

Aad  when  the  smoke  uctads  on  bigb, 
Tlunk  tliou  behold'st  the  vuity 
Of  worldly  Btdr,  fjooc  with  a  puff: 
Thus  tluak,  tfaeo  dhnk  Tobacco. 

t  But  wbco  the  ppc  grows  tbd  within, 
Think  of  ihy  soiil  ddilcd  with  sin, 
.And  that  ihr  fire  dotb  it  rrquirc: 

Thai  think,  then  diink  ToliKCO. 

FTbt  ubcs,  that  arc  left  bthind, 
Miy  Mm  to  put  thee  still  b  mind 
Tlut  tmto  duu  iTtura  thou  must ! 
Thus  think,  ihca  drink  Tobacco. 


W^HEN  as  the  chiU  Chiroklio  blwi. 

"       And  Wia«cf  tcIU  s  heavy  talc; 
When  P7VS  iind  daws  oad  rooks  and  crows 
Sit  cuniag  of  the  Iroaa  aod  uiowii 
Then  prt  mc  ale. 

Ale  in  a  Saxon  niinkio  then, 

Such  as  will  make  grimalkiD  i>rai«; 
Bid*  nlour  burgeoo  b  toll  men, 
Qukkcns  the  pwc'it  vit  tad  pen, 
l>c«pises  tite. 

Ale,  that  the  absent  battle  liglui, 

And  frames  the  nttrch  of  Swedish  dnun. 
Disputes  with  ptiiices,  laws,  and  rights, 
What's  done  uhI  pust  tells  ttvooA  wighls, 
And  whit 's  to  come. 
lio)Sdioeoa. 


ANONYMOUS 

Ak,  that  Uk  plowRURi's  heart  uji-ttw^ii 
And  r<}uals  it  vnth  tyraftts'  throne*, 
That  wip«s  the  eye  thxt  oter-weepo, 
And  lulls  b  sure  aod  dainty  nieeps 
Th'  o'er-vtaned  boon. 

Grandchild  of  Ccrct,  Bacchni'  daughter, 

Wine's  raiulous  Dcishbour,  though  hot  uile, 
Eaoobling  *ll  the  nymjihj  of  wuer, 
Aad  iilliog  each  man's  heart  with  bught<.-T— 
Ha  I    giie  au  ale  I 


jpi.      Love    w!//  JinJ  out  the  fi'^g/ 

/^VER  the  moiuitaiiu 
^-^     And  0T«  the  wavni. 
Under  the  fnuntain* 

And  under  the  graves; 
Under  floods  that  are  deepest, 

Which  Neptune  obey, 
Orer  rvcks  that  are  steepest, 

Loie  will  find  out  the  iny. 

When  there  it  no  place 

For  the  glow-worm  to  Cc, 
When  there  is  no  vpot 

For  receipt  of  a  fly; 
Whea  the  traAf;:  dares  nM  Tcnuirc 

Leu  hrrteir  fan  she  lay, 
If  Lore  come,  he  wSl  eottf 

And  will  find  out  the  ny. 


ANONYMOUS 


You  may  ncccm  kim 

A  child  for  bis  nugbt; 
Or  you  may  ileem  bim 

A  coward  (ot  his  Hight ; 
Bui  if  «bc  whom  Lore  doib  boeour 

Be  cooced'd  from  the  day — 
Set  X  thousand  guards  upon  her, 

UoTc  will  find  out  the  way. 

Some  think  to  lose  him 

By  iixnag  him  conliBedi 
Aad  some  do  SMjipose  bim, 

Poor  heart !    to  be  blind  ; 
But  if  ne'er  so  dote  yc  wall  him. 

Do  ibe  best  thu  ye  may, 
Blind  LoTc,  if  so  ye  call  him, 

He  wiU  find  out  his  way. 

Yon  may  ttqin  ihe  eagle 

To  noop  to  your  fitt; 
Or  yott  nuy  inveigle 

The  Phcinix  of  the  cast : 
The  lioness,  you  may  move  hei 

To  gi»E  OKI  bcr  ptfey; 
Bn  yow'll  oc'cr  swp  a  lover — 

He  wili  fiad  out  the  way. 

If  the  rxrth  it  tboutd  pan  him. 

He  w<iMi)d  gallop  h  o'er : 
If  the  seM  shoi^  o'crthwart  htm. 

He  would  swim  to  tbe  shore  i 
Sbodd  hit  Lore  bKome  a  twaUvw, 

Through  the  air  to  Stray, 
Love  will  (end  inags  to  foUow, 

Aad  will  £nd  out  tbe  way. 


«D 


ANONYMOUS 

There  b  no  emi'mg 

To  cram  Us  inuMi 
IIktc  i>  no  coacririDg 

His  plots  to  prevent; 
Bat  if  ODW  ihc  rnessigr  greet  him 

Tlut  bis  True  Love  <Uith  stay, 
If  Death  should  cotne  wid  meet  hiai, 

Love  will  find  out  the  way  I 


3P3.  TbilUdtt  puts  Me 

OWHAT  a  plague  u  love  I 
How  shall  I  btar  a? 
She  «iU  bcosiMut  prove, 

I  greatly  feir  it. 
She  «o  torments  my  ttasA 

That  my  mength  fiiiltth. 
And  wstws  with  the  wind 

As  a  &hip  saikth. 
Pka!«  her  Oie  best  I  may, 
She  loves  stiQ  to  gaiosay} 
ALck  and  weU-a-dayl 

PhiUada  flouts  me^ 


At  the  im  ytauiixy 

She  did  pass  by  met 
Sbe  look'd  another  way 

And  would  not  spy  met 
1  woo'd  her  ftir  to  dine, 

Bill  could  Dot  get  ber; 
Wni  h.id  her  to  the 

He  migbt  entreat  her. 


«S 


ANONYMOUS 

Vith  Daiuel  >be  did  dance, 
Od  nw  she  look'd  ulLaiux: 

0  thncc  onbap))/  cbaaoc! 
PbiUadt  flouts  tot. 

Ftit  latkl,  be  not  10  coy, 
Do  Boc  Aaiiia  met 

1  icii  siy  mother's  joy: 
Sweet,  emenaia  rw! 

She'll  {[ire  me,  wbtt)  she  dks. 

All  thai  is  litib;;: 
Ho  pooltry  and  her  bees, 

And  her  goose  liiting, 
A  fnr  of  RUttntts  bed*, 
And  a  bog  fidi  of  thieds ; 
And  yet,  for  all  this  gucics, 

PhUIada  flottU  me ! 

She  hath  a  cloat  of  mioe 

Wrought  with  blue  corentry, 
Which  ^c  lcrc|K  for  a  sign 

Of  my  fidelity : 
But  i'  fiitb,  if  ike  flioch 

She  shall  not  wcu  it; 
To  Tih,  my  t'other  wrnch, 

I  mean  to  bear  it. 
And  jtt  it  gKe»M  my  heait 
So  soon  lioni  her  to  |im: 
Death  itrike  me  with  his  dull 

PhiilKU  Dons  me. 

Thou  lhak  eat  cradded  cicam 
All  the  year  bating, 

I  Sfloit,  pcorctlr  of  aajp  kind. 

4« 


ANONYMOUS 

And  drink  tbe  crysul  sumn 

Pleaunt  in  UUing; 
Wlug  and  whey  wIuIk  thou  lu^t. 

And  brsnUt-berno, 
Pic-tid  aad  fuaj-cfwi, 

Part,  jiaaa,  aad  cherries 
Thy  rairottit  shall  be  thin, 
M:idi:  of  a  wecTtl's  skin- 
Yet  all's  oat  worth  a  pn! 

PIuIImU  floDtt  me. 

In  the  Ian  month  of  Mjy 

I  nude  bcT  posieat 
I  hnird  bcr  oftni  ny 

That  s!ie  loi<cd  rain. 
Cowslips  and  gUlyAowcre 

And  the  white  liljr 
1  brocgbt  to  deck  tlie  boiire** 

For  my  !!Wi:ct  Philly. 
But  >he  did  nil  disdain. 
Add  threw  ibc-m  back  ajpiio; 
Therefore  'tit  flat  and  plain 

PtiUlada  flouu  me. 

Fair  roaidcD,  hare  a  an. 

And  in  time  tako  me  ■ 
I  can  bin  thntc  as  fait 

If  you  forwkc  IDC! 
For  I>oll  tbe  dairy-nwtd 

Laugh'd  at  me  l8icl]r> 
And  wanton  Wbifred 

Favours  me  steady. 
40 


ANONYMOUS 

One  throws  milk  on  mj  ctothrs, 
T'uther  plays  wkh  my  aoat; 
Wiutt  wanting  ugo*  an  those ! 
FlliUiida  flouts  inc. 

I  cannot  work  Dor  slcrp 

At  all  in  hsmd: 
Low  woufids  my  bean  w  ilccp 

Without  i(U  reason. 
I  *gia  to  pine  awjy 

In  my  love's  shadow. 
Like  u  a  fai  bc»t  may, 

Ptrm'd  io  a  meadow. 
1  shall  be  dad,  I  fear, 
Witbia  this  thousaod  yrar: 
And  all  for  Uiat  tay  dtar 

FttillKU  floats  me. 


Chkris  in  the  Sitow 

T  SAW  fail  Chloris  walk  alooc, 

*     When  fcatbctM  rain  c*me  softly  down. 

As  Jove  dcscundii))!  from  bis  Tower 

To  court  her  in  a  ulier  ihower : 

Tbe  wavon  snow  Aew  to  her  breast, 

Lik«  pmty  birds  into  their  anc, 

.But,  oTCKOme  with  whitcQess  there, 

[for  grief  it  tbsw'd  iow  a  teat: 

Tbeoce  idling  on  ba  gannenis*  bm. 
To  deck  her,  fmut  into  a  gtm. 


THOMAS  STANLEY 
jp^.  The  Relapse 

/^  TURN  aw»y  tboM  crod  eyw, 
^^     The  sura  of  mjr  uodouig ! 
Or  doth,  in  wich  a  bright  dogiUM^ 
May  Ktnp(  k  sccood  wooii^. 

P«ibh  tbrif  bliad  aod  impious  p«jdc, 
Who  (bra  cootenin  thy  glory  i 

It  WM  my  fall  that  deiU 
Thy  name,  and  scal'd  thy  nory. 

Y«  nu  Mw  fuHeringB  can  ptcpart 
A  hii^h«T  praise  to  crowa  thee; 

Though  my  iSret  death  proclaim  ther  fjiir. 
My  Keoond  will  unchrone  thee. 

LoTcrs  will  doubt  ihou  canu  unicc 

No  other  for  thy  farl. 
And  if  thou  burn  odc  victim  twice, 

Both  thiak  ihee  poor  and  cc«d. 


THOMAS  D'URFEY 
ig$.  Cbloe  divine 

/'^'HLOE**  a  Nymph  in  flowery  groici, 
^-'     A  Nereid  ia  the  sUums; 
Saiot-likc  &hc  ia  the  tempJc  motes, 
A  woman  ia  my  dteams. 

Lore  sttak  oniltcry  from  ber  e)-ci, 
The  Grace*  point  her  chanm; 

Orpheus  Is  livall'd  in  her  votcci 
And  Venus  b  ber  arms. 


THOMAS  DURFEY 


ffcTcr  so  bjipf«ly  is  one 
Did  fauvcn  and  vanh  combuwi 
LDd  yti  'lis  Dnfa  and  blood  slooe 
Tlut  makn  ber  to  diiioe. 


CHARLES  COTTON 
1p<F.  To  C<r/M 


W^HEN,  Cvlia,  must  mj  old  day  set, 

And  niy  foung  nMraiDg  riie 
In  beams  of  joy  M  bright  u  yet 

Ne'er  blcu'd  a  brer's  eyes? 
My  (talc  is  mote  adTinccd  ihaa  wbca 

I  Km  sucmpted  thcc: 
I  sued  U>  be  a  serraat  tben, 

Bat  DOW  to  be  nude  free. 

Tie  serrcd  my  time  fiithful  and  tni^ 

Elprctiog  to  be  placed 
In  luppy  freedom,  I3  my  due, 

To  all  the  joys  thou  bast  t 
ID  basbaodty  in  love  is  such 

A  scandal  to  loi'c'i  power, 
We  ought  DOC  to  misipcnd  to  much 

At  one  poor  shoit-liTcd  bow. 

Yet  think  not,  sweet,  I'm  weary  grown, 

That  I  pretend  such  baue; 
Since  Done  to  forfeit  e'er  was  kitowo 

Before  he  had  a  taste : 
My  iaiiDK  low  coold  humbly  wait 

Wiica,  yoong,  it  tcaroe  knew  bow 
To  plead;   but  grown  to  man's  estMe, 

He  b  impMicnt  bow. 

4* 


KATHERINF  PHILIPS  ('ORINDA*) 


jg7'   To  One  persuading  a  Lad/  to 
Marriage 


r()t->i 


pORBEAR,  boid  yoaih:  all's  bnveo 
*■    And  wlut  you  do  a««r 
To  othcn  courtship  majr  a|ipear, 

'Tis  Kicrikgc  lo  her. 
She  is  ■  public  dfity; 

And  were  't  not  vcr7  *^^ 
She  should  dispose  hct«elf  to  be 

A  petty  houebold  godf 

Pii«t  make  the  sun  in  prime  fihiiw 

And  bid  the  woHd  Adicti, 
ThU  so  be  may  hb  beams  coqIidc 

In  compliment  to  you: 
But  if  of  tJutt  you  do  defptir, 

Think  bow  you  did  mms 
To  suite  to  fix  ber  beams  which  sie 

Mora  brijibt  md  large  thM  his. 


iP*. 


JOHN  DRYDEN 
Ode 


IGlRxrtw,  (MtHixt  in  the  ti»o  Htltr  aru  ef  Petty  i 
P"^'^  .OW-.JW 

T^HOU  j-oun^t  virgRi-dmightcr  of  the  skin, 
^      Made  in  the  last  promotion  of  the  blestj 
WhoK  palms  "^^  pluck'd  Trom  Paradise, 
In  spKadios  bnuicbcs  mon  siMmriy  rise, 


^' 


Rich  with  inmoRil  gma  above  the  rctti 
Whrtbcr,  adopted  to  mxik  nd^bouiin|[  star. 
Thou  roll'n  above  itt,  in  thy  waixkriDg  tacc, 
Or,  in  proceMion  fix'd  and  ft|^br, 
Motcd  with  the  hcaTtn's  mitjntk  paoei 
Or,  call'd  to  more  Mpefior  blus, 
Thnu  tr(Md'«t  with  sentphims  tlie  tan  abyu: 
WhMciei  tuippy  region  be  thy  plaoey 
Cease  thy  celestial  toi^  a  titilc  spec; 
Tfaou  wilt  have  time  enough  for  hymns  difine, 
Since  Heaven's  eterwl  yen  is  thine. 

iheo,  a  mom]  Mum  thy  praise  rcbcme, 
lo  no  i^oble  rerae; 
But  such  as  ilty  own  toicc  did  practise  her?, 
Wlieo  iliy  !ir«-fT\iit9  of  Poesy  wete  giwn, 
,     To  make  ihysdf  *  wdcotne  ianute  ihctc  i 
H  While  yet  a  jmang  probationer, 
^m  And  candidate  of  heaTcn. 

^^    If  by  traductkin  came  ihy  mind, 

Oxir  wooder  is  the  less,  to  6nd 
A  goal  so  chamiing  from  a  stock  so  good; 
Thy  bther  was  tnnsfused  into  thy  blood : 
So  wen  tbou  bom  into  a  tuncfiil  strain, 
An  early,  rich,  and  inexhanstcd  vaa. 

But  if  thy  pfc-cxiwii^  soul 

Was  fonii'd  at  fiist  with  myriads  more. 
It  did  throogfa  all  ihe  mighty  poets  roll 

Wiio  Gri-ck  or  Latin  laurcfs  wore, 

was  that  Saf^bo  lux,  which  once  it  was  before. 

If  so,  then  cease  thy  fli^t,  O  beavcn-bora  mind ! 
hast  no  dross  to  purge  from  thy  rich  ore : 

Nor  caa  thy  soul  a  Urer  maosioa  find, 

4» 


¥11 


JOHN  DRYDEN 

TKm  was  the  bcqituoui  frune  sbc  left  behind 
Retuni,  to  Kll  or  tnend  the  qum  of  thy  celntiil  lEm!. 

May  we  pnmnne  to  uy,  that,  at  thy  birth. 
New  joy  was  spniag  in  tieavcn  a  well  as  bera  <m  anhf 
Pot  sure  the  mildei  phnrts  <lid  cooibine 
Oq  thy  suspicious  liotoscope  to  shise. 
And  eiea  the  most  maUcioos  were  m  trine. 

Thy  brothcT-jnjels  M  thy  binh 

SttuDg  each  hU  lyre,  and  tuned  it  tugh, 

Tbiit  all  the  (tcofjc  of  the  sky 
Might  know  a  poetess  was  born  on  eanb; 

Aod  then,  if  cTcr,  moital  ears 

Had  heard  the  mtinc  of  the  mbem. 

And  if  DO  dustcriog  swans  of  bees 
On  thy  swvet  mouth  dutUl'd  tlieir  (oldeo  dew, 

Twas  that  audi  »ul^ar  oiindis 

Hearen  lud  tun  leisuie  to  renew  i 
For  all  the  blcM  fratcniitj  of  loie 
Solenmiicd  there  thy  birth,  and  kqit  thy  holiday  iboie.] 

O  Jtradous  God !   how  far  hate  wv 
Profaned  ihy  heavenly  gift  of  Pac»y  I 
Made  prowiute  and  proAigaie  the  Muse, 
Debused  lo  each  obtcetie  aod  impious  use. 
Whose  harmooy  was  firs*  ordiin'd  nborc, 
For  toni^ues  of  angfSi  and  tot  hymns  of  Ion! 
O  wretched  we!    why  were  we  hurried  down 

Tliis  lubnqne  and  adulterate  age 
(Nay,  added  fat  polIunoBS  of  oar  own). 

To  increase  the  stresmiog  ordures  of  the  *a^i 
Wliot  can  we  say  to  excuse  our  sccood  faD  l 
Let  this  thy  Veual,  He-Jieo,  atone  for  all ! 
Her  Arethttuan  stream  renutns  UBuiTd, 


JOHN  DRYDEN 


Jmnat'd  with  fercign  i\th,  aad  nadcfiledt 
^Hr  wit  wu  more  ihan  man,  hn  lnooc(occ  a  cbiU. 

An  silt  tud  notw,  yet  warned  dom-, 
For  Nautre  cfid  thu  want  sitpfiy: 
^^  So  rid)  io  tretKim  of  her  own, 
^B       Sbe  might  our  boasted  stotM  d«fyi 
^^udi  BoUe  vigoiu  cUd  ber  Terse  »doni, 

ThM  ii  Mcm'd  botrow'd,  when  'twx  oi^y  bora. 
I      Hrr  monis,  too,  wm  in  brr  bosom  bml, 

By  great  eumptn  dail/  fed, 
'  >Vluc  in  tbe  bcH  of  books,  Im-  father's  life,  sbe  rrad. 
And  to  be  read  herself  she  need  doc  fesri 
Ejch  ccM,  and  etcry  light,  ber  Mute  vill  bear, 
Tliougit  Epictetus  with  his  bmp  wrre  there. 
Even  lore  (for  lote  someuroes  her  Mu**  rxprest) 
Wu  b«  a  Unbent  &ddc  which  pliy'd  about  her  bnast, 
Ligtit  as  tlte  vapours  of  a  moraiag  drrani ; 
So  cold  herself,  whilst  sbe  web  w:annth  expreiit, 
^K    Twat  Cupid  batlring  in  Diana's  stream.  .  .  . 

^H^Now  all  tliow  duim,  that  bloontoit  y,rMe, 
^^The  well*propoftion'd  shape,  and  beauteous  face, 
Shall  nerer  tnore  be  seen  by  mortal  eyes; 
In  earth  tlie  niKb-lameDted  Ttrgin  Tie& 
I      Not  wit,  nor  piety  coold  fate  preTcntj 
Nor  was  the  cnjel  deitiny  content 
To  fiotsh  all  the  murder  at  a  blow. 
To  sweep  at  once  her  life  and  beauty  too; 
Boi,  like  a  harden'd  fdon,  took  a  pnde 
To  work  raote  nuuhtrTously  slow, 
And  ftundcr'd  Gist,  and  then  destroy'd. 
double  sacrilege  on  Utii^  dtrine, 

44 


JOHN  DRYDEN 

To  rob  tbc  iclk,  nod  deface  tbc  shrine  I 

But  thus  OriniU  died: 
Heavri),  by  the  luinie  dbeue  did  bath  mnsbitr ) 
As  cquil  were  their  sools,  to  e^ua]  was  theb  fstt. 

Mexntttne,  ber  wirlike  btMhcr  on  the  sns 
His  wsviag  strcunen  to  the  winds  dispJajTS, 
And  rows  for  his  return,  with  run  derotioo,  |isys. 
Ah.  generous  ^uth  I  that  wish  fotfacar, 
The  winds  too  soon  will  waft  tWe  here! 
Slack  all  thy  sails,  aod  feu  to  come, 
Alas,  thou  koow'st  not,  thou  ui  wTecfc'd  at  Itomef 
No  more  shall  thou  behold  thj  sister's  face. 
Thou  bast  already  had  ber  bst  embrace. 
Btit  \o(A.  aloft,  and  if  thon  kenn'st  from  fart 
Among  the  Pleiads  a  new  kindled  star, 
If  any  sparkles  than  tbc  rvff.  mote  bright, 
'Tis  site  that  shines  in  that  propitious  light. 


\Vhcn  ia  mid-air  the  golden  iramp  shall  soumL 

To  raise  the  natiom  under  ground ; 
When,  ia  ilie  Valley  of  JehMhaphat, 
The  jud^g  God  shall  close  the  book  of  Pa 

And  then  the  last  asuies  keep 

For  those  who  wxkc  and  those  who  sleep; 

Wlxrn  rattling  bones  together  By 

Protn  tbc  four  conKTS  of  the  sky ; 
When  sinews  o'er  tbc  skeletons  are  s^mtd. 
Those  clothed  with  flesh,  and  life  insjKii-s  the  dcsHi 
Tbc  Mcrcd  poets  liist  shall  hear  the  sound, 

And  foremost  from  the  tomb  shali  bound, 
For  tbcy  are  covcr'd  with  the  lightest  gronnd  i 
Aod  straight,  with  inborn  Tigout,  oo  the  wiogij 


Le  moentiiiii  brks,  to  thr  oew  ntorniog  ttng. 
Thne  thou,  sw«et  Sunt,  bdore  tbe  <)inrt  shall  go> 
As  harbiogcf  of  H«t«i,  ihc  wny  to  show, 
The  vay  vrhicli  thou  so  well  lust  kani'd  below. 


3pp.  A  Smgfit  St.  Cecilh's  Day,  1687 


I 


URO>f  lunnoRy,  from  hnmnly  harmony, 
''  Ttiis  uaivcnal  fixn>c  tx^ao  t 

When  ratlin;  tiadCTncaili  a  heip 
Of  jarring  atoms  lay, 
And  could  not  hffsm  bcr  head, 
The  tundnl  toice  was  heard  from  lii{;h, 

•  Afiie,  ye  more  than  dead  ! ' 
Thca  cold,  and  hi>t,  ucd  tamrx,  and  dry. 
Id  order  10  tlicir  station!  leap, 
And  Music's  pover  ob^. 
From  hanoony,  from  hcatcnly  hannony, 
,         TMf  uninnat  franw  bcgsn: 
'         From  harmony  10  harmony 
Througli  all  the  compass  of  ihc  noccs  it  ran, 
Tbe  diapsoo  do8io£  fvU  is  Maix. 

fWhn  panion  eunwt  Mudc  laisc  and  t^\M 
When  Jubal  ttreck  the  chordcd  ^hi-ll, 
His  listening  brrthrcn  wood  around. 

And,  wondi-ring,  on  their  faces  fdl 
To  worshif)  that  celestial  sound : 
{ Leu  than  a  God  they  thought  there  could  oot  d«-cll 
Wiilm)  the  hdlow  of  that  shell 
That  spoke  m  sweetly  and  so  well. 
iWhat  puSloa  cannot  Music  rwe  and  <|iiell? 


JOHN  1>RYDEN 

The  tnimpct's  loud  clongonr 

Excitn  us  to  amis, 
With  thrill  nous  of  aager, 
And  mortal  alwns. 
Tlw  double  douible  doOile  beat 
Of  the  Uniiulering  dram 
Crin  Hail: !    the  Tors  come ; 
Clurge,  chugc,  'th  too  Utc  to  retreat  t 

The  tati  coo^aiiiiflg  Stiie, 
In  djrins  notes  diKOvcn 
The  woes  of  hopeless  torera, 
Whose  ilii]^  is  wbisiwt'd  by  the  wublicj  luU. 

Sharp  violins  ptochiin 
Tbdr  jealous  pangs  jtad  <inpetaiion, 
Puty,  fnuidc  iiidignadon, 
De]ith  of  p»DS,  and  height  of  psnon, 

For  the  ^r,  disdainiul  daiDc. 

But  O,  what  an  can  teach, 
Wkia  human  voice  can  reach, 
The  Mcml  orgiia's  praised 
Notes  irwpiiing  holy  love. 
Notes  that  wing  tlieir  bcaveol/  ways 
To  mend  tlie  dioors  above. 

Orpheus  could  Icid  tlic  savage  race  j 
And  tn«9  ttpiooti-d  left  thcii  plaoe, 
Sequacious  of  the  lyre; 
But  bright  Cecilia  laiied  the  wonder  h^htr: 
When  to  hcf  ofjjan  tocal  btcaih  was  niveo, 
An  angel  hrard,  ftod  strsighi  appeai'd 
Mismkiog  Eaitli  for  Heaven. 


JOHN  DRYDEN 

Ck/lSd  Chokus. 

As  frotn  the  [loirrr  of  s»cm)  l,t)-4 

The  spherfs  hegm  to  more, 
And  sunjt  the  ptu  Cnator'i  praise 

To  all  tlic  Blest  above; 
So  «h«i  the  but  atki  dnadfal  boar 
litis  cnuabfing  pagnnt  shall  devour, 
The  tmnpct  shall  be  hcvd  oo  high, 
The  dead  ihaU  live,  the  Utiot  die, 
And  Music  shall  untime  the  sky  I 

OO.      Ah,  how  steeff  it  is  to  Irjel 

A  H,  how  sutet  h  is  W  love! 
**     Ah,  how  j;*y  a  joung  Desrel 
And  what  pleafing  pain  we  prove 

WhcQ  we  first  approach  Love's  £rel 
Patns  of  love  he  sn-Kter  far 
Than  tU  other  |Ji-awtcs  are. 

Sigh*  whkh  are  from  lovers  blown 
Do  hot  gently  brave  the  heart: 

El's  tlie  irais  they  ihcd  alone 
Cue,  like  trickling  Uitm,  their  unnn  i 

Lovtn,  when  tliey  low  their  fatraih, 

BItcd  away  in  easy  death. 

Love  and  Time  «4th  revcreoce  use. 
Treat  them  like  a  parting  fricod; 

Nor  the  £oklcn  j^ifis  refuse 

Which  in  youth  sinceie  they  send: 

For  each  jrar  their  price  ia  more, 

And  ihey  Icu  simple  than  before. 


JOHN  DRYDEN 

Lore,  like  spring-tides  full  and  htgli. 
Swells  io  every  youthful  vein  j 

But  each  tide  di>cs  less  supply, 
Till  they  quite  shrink  in  again : 

If  a  flow  in  age  appear, 

Tis  but  rain,  aod  nms  not  clear. 


40h 


fi 


T  FEED  a  flame  ' 
■*■  That  it  both  pai 
'Tis  such  a  pleasing 
That  I  had  rather  dj 


Flame 


which  so  toimencs  loe 
heart,  and  yet  content^  mc: 
and  I  so  love  it, 
once  remove  it. 


Yet  he,  for  whom  I  grieve,  shall  never  know  it ; 
My  tongue  docs  not  tietray,  nor  my  eyes  show  it. 
Not  a  sigh,  nor  a  tear,  my  pain  discloses, 
But  they  fall  silently,   like  dew  on  roses. 

Thus,  to  prevent  my  Love  from  being  cruel, 
My   licart  's  the  sacrifice,  as  'tis  the  fuel ; 
And  while  I  suffisr  this  to  give  him  quiet, 
My  faith  rewards  my  love,   though  he  deny  it. 

On  liis  eyes  will  I  gaze,  and  there  delight  me ; 
While  I  conceal  my  love  no  frown  can  fright  me. 
To  be  more  happy   I   dare  not  aspire. 
Nor  can  I  fall  more  low,  mounting  no  higher. 


47" 


JOHN  DRYDEN 


^2.  Smg  to  a  Fair  Toung  LaJf,  gom^ 
tut  of  thf  Town  in  the  Spring 

A  SK  noc  die  uuw  lAj  suUen  Sfnag 
^''     So  loog  delays  htr  flowcn  to  bcai ; 
Wby  warbling  biidt  forget  to  ling, 

And  winter  miam  invert  tbc  y«ar; 
Chloris  is  gone;   and  fate  provides 
To  make  it  Spring  where  ihe  reudes. 

Cliloris  is  gone,  the  ovcl  Tair; 

Sbe  c«9t  not  back  a  pttymg  eye: 
B«  left  liei  liyrer  in  despair 

To  tigb,  to  Unguith,  and  to  die: 
Ah  I    how  cui  those  fair  ryes  endure 
To  £ire  the  wouodj  they  will  not  ouc  i 

Great  God  of  Lorci,  why  hast  thou  made 
A  face  thai  can  all  hearts  cwnmaad. 

That  all  religions  can  inv^, 
And  diacgc  tite  law«  of  «*ety  land  t 

Where  ibou  hadtt  placed  such  power  before, 
Tbgn  iboddM  hat«  itaidc  her  niercy  more 

When  Chloris  to  the  temple  cornea, 
Adoring  crowds  before  btT  &II  t 

Sbe  C3B  (CKore  tlie  dead  from  tomfcs 
And  erery  Itie  but  mine  tecall. 

1  only  am  by  Lore  dcsign'd 

To  far  tbr  victim  lur  macluiML 


CHARLES  WEBBE 

403,  ytgahtsr  Indijferenoe 

KAORE  love  or  more  disdain  I  cmrc  \ 
'^^     SwMt,  be  not  ilill  indifTcreati 
O  send  mc  qiucUy  u>  my  gnre, 

Or  else  sflbrd  me  more  concent  I 
Or  lore  or  hate  rae  more  or  ten, 
For  lo*e  abhor*  all  lukcuranmies*. 

Cite  me  a  tempest  if  "iwiU  drive 
Me  to  i)ie  place  where  I  would  be| 

Or  if  you'll  have  mc  itill  alive, 
Cont'cta  you  will  be  kind  u>  me^ 

Give  hopes  of  bliss  or  dij  my  gnv« : 

More  love  or  more  dbdsJa  I  ctato. 


SIR  GEORGE  ETHERECE 

I  ADIES,  Oiou^  to  your  «Mi{iietiiig  ejrs 
^     Love  owes  lii*  ducfiat  rictorin, 
And  borrowK  tbo<e  bright  oniH  from  you 
Wth  which  he  does  the  world  subdbc. 
Vet  you  yourselves  are  not  above 
The  empire  nor  the  grieb  of  love. 

Then  rack  not  lovers  with  disdain, 
Le5t  Loie  on  you  rcrenge  their  pwn: 
You  are  not  free  because  you're  fiir: 
The  Boy  did  not  his  Mother  spare. 
Beauty  's  but  an  oJleauve  dart : 
It  It  no  armour  for  tbe  beut. 


SIR  GEORGE  ETHEREGE 

To  a  Lady  asking  b'tm  bow  long  he 
woulJ  love  her 

TT  is  not,  Celb,  in  our  power 

^     To  Wj  how  loDg  our  lore  will  lutt 

It  may  be  we  withia  this  hour 

May  love  tlune  joyi  we  now  do  tosie; 
The  Blcsshl,  that  imnorlal  be. 
From  diaqge  in  love  are  only  free. 

Then  tiiKe  we  moful  loTcni  arc, 
Aik  not  bow  long  oor  lore  will  last; 

Bnt  while  it  does,  let  la  take  care 
Each  miaute  be  with  ptruurc  past: 

Wnt  it  not  nudfkcss  to  dray 

To  litf  btcaaw  we're  sure  to  die? 


THOMAS  TRAHERNE 
^6.  Nevos 


^EWS  from  a  foreigja  country  came 
^  ^    As  if  my  trenure  and  my  wealth  lay  there ; 
So  much  it  did  my  heart  inflame, 
Twas  wont  to  call  my  Soul  iato  mine  ear; 
Which  thither  wcna  to  meet 
The  aifnwcfaiag  sweet, 
Aid  on  the  threshold  bUxnI 
To  mtettaia  the  uakoown  Good. 
It  hover *d  tberr 
As  if  'twould  leaie  autie  et^ 

oi 


THOMAS  FLATMAN 

But — when  hi*  next  arapaawn  ixf 

'How  docs  he  do?    What  liopnf ' — slull  am  away, 

Aoswenng  only,  wkh  a  lifk-up  hand— 

'Who  cut  his  r«e  wiihstwd^* 

Tbcn  shall  a  gup  or  two  do  moK 
Than  e'er  my  rhetoric  could  before: 
Pcnuadc  tbc  wotid  to  uoublc  mc  do  laorel 


CHARLES  SACKVILLE,  EARL  OF  DORSET 


40f. 


Smg 


IVritUa  at  Sea,  in  lit  f'lril  Ouieh  IVttr  {,j66s), 
a^ht  itfirt  aa  Eiigagaii€iil 

"T^O  all  you  ladies  now  at  land 
'       Wc  men  ai  sea  indite; 
But  lirst  would  hut  you  undcrsund 

How  bard  it  is  to  write: 
The  MuKft  DOW,  aed  Ncptufie  too, 
We  must  implore  to  write  to  you — 
With  a  fk,  la,  b,  b,  la. 

For  though  ihK  MuKS  should  pro*e  kind, 

And  rjl  oui  empty  brain, 
Yet  if  rough  Neptune  rouse  the  wind 

To  wave  the  a/urc  maia, 
Our  paper,  pen,  aaJ  tuk,  and  we, 
Roll  up  and  down  oui  shqis  at  sea — 

Wkh  a  £>,  b,  la,  U,  la. 
41* 


rtW-^ 


EARL  OF  DORSET 


Then  if  m  wrttr  not  bj  nch  post, 

Thmit  not  vie  sre  unkind; 
Nor  yet  coodudc  our  ships  ire  lost 

By  Dutciunm  or  b)?  wind : 
Our  mrs  well  kmI  a  spndicr  wty, 
•Hic  tide  shall  hrinj;  tbcm  twice  a  day— 
With  3  fa,  la,  la,  U,  la. 

Tbe  King  with  xt-onder  and  surprise 
Vna  swur  the  seas  grow  bold, 

Btctase  tbe  tides  will  Ugber  rise 
Than  e'er  tbey  did  of  old : 

Bnt  let  him  kix>w  it  a  our  tears 

Bring  floods  of  grief  to  Whitehall  stun— 
With  a  fa,  la,  U,  la,  U. 

Sbodd  fogiy  Opdain  cbaoce  to  Itnow 

Our  wd  and  diuaal  siwy, 
Tbe  Dutcb  would  scorn  no  weak  »  loe, 

And  ijtiit  tbdr  fbrt  at  Goree : 
For  wtut  rvsiiittnce  can  tfacjr  find 
Prom  men  who've  left  their  hearts  behind  !- 

VTiih  a  a,  U,  h,  ta,  la- 
Let  wind  and  weather  do  its  wont, 

Be  you  to  us  but  kii>d  1 
Let  DischnwQ  vnpour.  Spaniards  curv, 

No  sorrow  we  shall  lind : 
*Ti>  then  no  maucr  how  things  go, 
Or  who  '*  our  friend,  or  who 's  our  foc^ 
With  a  fa,  h,  U,  la,  la. 

To  pu9  our  tedious  houni  away 

We  throw  a  merry  main, 
Or  else  at  aerions  otnbre  play; 

But  why  should  we  m  «iia 


EARL  OF  DORSET 

Eftch  other's  ran  thus  puniwf 
We  were  anttoDC  ubcn  wc  kit  you— 
With  a  fa,  k,  U,  U,  la. 

Due  now  our  feara  tempesttioua  grow 

And  cast  our  hciprt  away ; 
Whilst  you,  regardless  of  oiar  wot, 

Sit  airless  at  a  |>lay : 
Perhaps  ]icnnit  fame  hapfwr  man 
To  kiss  jrauf  haniJ,  or  lUrt  your  ftn — 
With  a  fa,  la,  la,  b,  b. 

When  any  mournful  tunc  you  hear, 

Tlut  dies  in  tntj  note 
As  if  it  sigh'd  with  neb  nun's  care 

For  being  so  remote, 
Think  then  how  often  lore  we've  made 
To  you,  when  all  those  tunes  were  jilajT'd- 
Witb  a  fa,  la,  la,  b,  la. 

Id  justice  yoM  cannot  refuse 

To  think  of  omr  digress, 
Wlwn  we  for  hopes  of  hoootv  lose 

Our  certain  tujiplness: 
AH  those  de^jos  atv  but  to  prarc 
Ourselves  more  worthy  of  your  love— 
With  a  fa,  1b,  b,  la,  la. 

And  now  we've  (old  you  all  our  loves, 

And  likewise  all  our  fears, 
la  hopes  this  dccIuaiioQ  marea 

Some  ply  for  our  tears: 
Let's  hear  of  no  incoasiaacy— 
We  have  too  much  of  thai  at  sea— 
With  a  i^.  la,  la,  b,  b. 


tio. 


•»*♦■";« 


SIR  CHARLES  SEDLEY 
To  Cbhris 

AH,  Clilons !    tlut  I  now  could  tit 
*^    An  uDcooocni'd  u  whoi 
Your  tofaai  bnmy  codd  brgtt 

No  plesMUT,  nor  no  |i«ia  t 
Wbcn  I  the  dawn  used  to  ^dnuic, 

And  pniscd  the  cocniDg  day, 
I  litde  thought  the  growing  Titc 

Must  ukc  rajr  mt  aw<y. 
Yoor  cbanns  in  hirmlns  childhood  Ijy 

Like  mcttii  ia  the  mior; 
Agt  frtiin  DO  &CC  took  more  rw-jjt 

Thu)  youth  conetaTd  ia  thine. 
B«n  as  your  ckunut  ioseoubly 

To  their  perfection  prut, 
Fond  toT«  M  unpctccircd  did  Hy, 

And  in  my  bosom  ran. 

My  jassica  with  yoor  beauty  %fvm. 

And  Copid  at  nay  heart, 
SliB  «■  hit  mother  &Tour*d  you, 

Threw  a  new  flamiDg  dirt : 
Each  gloried  ia  iheir  wnnuxt  part; 

To  nuke  a  lorer,  he 
Erafikiy'd  the  nlmosi  of  his  act — 

To  mnlce  a  beau^,  she. 

To  CelU 

MOT,  Cdia,  thii  I  juster  am 
■^  '      Or  better  than  the  real! 
For  1  woald  chiagc  each  hour,  like  them. 
Were  not  my  bcut  m  rest. 


SIR  CHARLES  SEDLEY 

Due  I  am  tied  to  very  thee 
By  cTcry  thought  I  hive ; 

Tby  face  I  only  care  lo  vk. 
Thy  heart  I  only  crare. 

All  tlurt  IB  womio  11  adosvd 

In  thy  (tar  (df  I  find — 
For  the  whole  sex  c*n  but  aSwd 

The  handsome  and  the  kbd. 
Why  then  should  1  seek  iWther  (tore. 

And  Milt  make  loTe  anew? 
When  change  tiself  can  gi»e  no  moie, 

Tis  easy  to  be  true ! 

APHRA  BEHN 
4tl,  Song 

OVE  in  (anuMic  iriumph  site 


L< 


lOto^rfflg 


Whilit  bleeding  heanx  around  him  flow'd( 
For  whom  tircsh  pains  he  did  cttnie 

And  Mnngc  tyrannic  power  he  show'd: 
From  thy  bright  eyts  be  took  liis  tins. 

Which  round  about  Id  sport  he  faurl'd] 
But  'twas  from  nune  he  took  desiru 

Enough  t"  undo  the  oaioroot  world. 

From  me  he  took  liIs  ti^ra  and  ttart. 

From  thee  his  pride  and  cruelty  i 
From  roe  his  languiUiments  aod  feats, 

And  e»-«Ty  killing  dart  from  thet 
Tlius  thou  and  1  the  god  haw  attn'd 

Aod  Kt  him  up  a  ddtyi 
But  my  poor  heart  iJooe  is  harra'd. 

Whilst  i}une  the  viooc  is,  and  fieel 

4«<> 


APHRA  BEHN 


412.  The  Lihertine 

A    THOUSAND  mMtyn  I  hm  ande, 
^^      Ail  ucrificcd  to  my  ifemv, 
A  tbwBMid  bcaotio  han  bmay'd 
Tlut  bqguish  ia  RsiwlrM  fire: 
The  untuned  bran  to  haad  I  brought. 
And  lix'd  the  wUd  and  wMid'Hsg  thou£hL 

I  oewr  vovf'd  oor  sigK'd  in  Tan, 

Bui  both,  tho'  filic,  w'crc  well  rvceived  j 

Tbe  fur  arc  [drucd  U>  give  u«  pain, 
And  wlut  tbry  wish  ia  soon  bdiered: 

And  tho'  I  tuOc'd  of  wounds  and  smart, 

Love's  plrasuras  only  tooch'd  my  bcm. 

AJooe  the  {lory  and  the  spoi] 
I  ilway«  laughing  bore  aw>y; 

Tlie  triumph*  withoot  pnn  or  toil, 
Without  the  hell  the  he^tTcn  of  joy ; 

Asd  while  I  thu«  at  random  rove 

Dcsfnae  the  fools  thM  whiiM  fcx  love. 


JOHN  WILMOT,  EARL  OF  ROCHESTER 

4x1.  Remm 

ABSENT  from  thee,  I  linsuMh  nitl: 
*^     Then  »k  me  not,  When  I  mun  ? 
Tbe  Mnying  fool  'iwill  plainly  lull 
To  w^  all  day,  all  night  U>  moum. 


EARL  OP  ROCHESTER 

l>ou,  from  thiM  utiu  thm  l«  me  iy, 
ThM  my  (xattMtc  mind  may  prorc 

Tbc  tonnenu  it  deiervei  to  try. 

That  tears  my  lix'd  hmrt  from  my  love^ 

Wben,  wearM  wiili  a  world  ol'  woe. 

To  thy  safe  bosom  I  nw. 
Where  love,  and  p«acc,  and  tnith  don  flow, 

May  I  contenttrd  thne  «x|hic! 

Lnt,  OQOc  more  wandcrin|  from  that  bcarcn, 
I  fall  on  some  bast  heart  unl>)esi| 

Faithless  w  tiw«,  falv,  imfoi^iven— 
And  lost  roy  enrlaittog  rest. 

414.  JLove  and  Life 

ALL  my  past  lUe  i»  mine  m  mon;  1 
■^^     Tlie  flying  hour*  are  gone. 
Like  tniDfiitory  dreiuiu  given  o'er, 
Whoae  images  are  kept  b  atore 
By  memory  alone. 

The  lime  that  is  10  come  is  iKXi 

How  (M\  it  then  be  mine  ? 
The  present  moment '»  all  my  lot ; 
And  that,  at  faxt  at  it  in  got, 

Phillis,  is  only  thin& 

Then  talk  not  of  tRcon&taecy, 

False  hearts,  and  broken  vows; 
If  I  by  miracle  can  be 
Thi»  live-long  minute  true  to  thee, 
'Ti«  all  that  HcJien  allow*. 


EARL  OF  ROCHESTER 

I  CANNOT  chwij^  m  oihm  do, 

'■     Though  you  unjuJily  scorn  \ 

Siocc  itut  [loor  iwaia  tlui  sighs  for  j-oa 

For  j«u  alooe  wa»  boni. 
No,  Pliiliis  noi   your  heart  to  iDuve 

A  sunt  way  I'll  tiy  | 
And,  to  leTCDf^  my  slighted  love, 

Will  ttill  Ime  on  aod  die. 

When  ktlTd  wtih  grief  Amyntu  bea, 

And  you  to  mind  shill  call 
The  sighs  that  now  uopitiod  rile. 

The  lean  tkn  ninly  fall — 
TKit  wtkome  hour,  llut  ends  ihiG  uu/^ 

Will  then  begin  yonr  foio; 
For  radi  a  (aithful  tender  hctn 

Cut  ncnr  bnak  b  vain. 


7ff  His  Mistress 

>WHY  dost  thou  ifawle  thy  lorriy  lace  >.    O  why 

**       Don  that  ed^ng  hand  of  thine  deny 
The  unabiM  of  the  Sun's  cnliveni&g  eye? 

\Vm1iouI  thy  light  what  hght  rtmaias  in  mr! 
Thou  an  my  tifc ;   my  way,  my  Kghi  's  in  tbtc  f 
1  lire,  I  nwne,  and  by  thy  beams  I  aee. 

Thou  an  ny  Kfc— if  thou  but  lum  away 

My  life's  a  thoiuaod  dotfas.     Tbou  an  ny  way— 

Without  thee,  Lo*e,  I  uard  not  b«  «ny. 


EARL  OF  ROCHESTER 

My  Ugbt  thou  an — mthout  thy  sloKoua  sight 

My  eyes  are  cbrkcii'd  with  eternal  nijhL 

My  Lovt,  thou  art  my  way,  my  life,  n^  light. 

Thou  an  my  way  t    I  winder  if  thou  fly. 
Tbou  ait  my  lijht  i  if  hid,  how  hUnd  am  I ! 
Thou  ut  my  life;    if  thou  mithdraw'st,  I  die. 

My  eyes  »t  dvk  and  blind,  I  cannot  ice: 
To  whom  or  whither  should  my  darlcMU  llc«. 
But  to  ihil  light  i — and  who's  that  light  but  thrcf 

If  I  have  lo«t  my  paib,  dear  lover,  say, 
Shalt  I  still  waader  in  a  doubtful  way! 
Lore,  fJiall  a  lamb  of  Israel's  shoepfoM  stray? 

My  |Bth  is  tost,  my  wanderittg  steps  do  stray; 

I  cannot  £o,  nor  can  I  safely  stayi 

Whom  should  I  seek  but  thee,  my  path,  my  wayj 

And  yet  thou  lum'st  thy  &ce  away  nod  fly'st  mcl 
And  yet  I  «uc  for  grace  and  ihoa  deny'st  me  I 
Spak,  art  tliou  angry.  Love,  or  only  cry'st  tot ! 

Thou  ait  ibe  pil^m's  path,  the  blind  man's  eye. 
The  dead  man'*  lite.     On  thee  my  hopes  rely: 
If  [  but  them  remove,  I  suidy  die. 

Dissolve  thy  sunbeams,  close  t!iy  wings  aixl  stay  I 
See,  sec  how  I  am  blind,  and  deiid,  and  stray  t 
•.~0  thou  that  art  my  life,  my  li^ht,  my  way  I 

Then  work  thy  will !     If  passion  Nd  me  See, 
My  rcSMio  kIuI)  obey,  my  wings  shall  be 
Streich'd  out  no  fstibrr  titan  from  me  to  tbn  I 
4H 


JOHN  SHEFFIELD,  DUKE  OF 
BUCKINGHAMSHIRE 

417.  T/k  Xecimdlfmcnt 

/^OHE,  let  us  now  rwolre  H  last 
^^     To  li»c  ind  low  in  quiei ; 
We'U  tie  tbe  knot  so  very  f»st 
TbM  Time  skill  neVx  uatk  it. 

The  inieu  joj^  they  seldom  prote 
Wbo  free  from  quarrels  live: 

*Tb  tbe  laosc  tender  pan  of  love 
Eich  otbCT  to  farsi?c. 

When  leiit  I  teem'd  coocera'd,  1  took 

No  pieanre  txH'  no  mt  i 
And  wbeo  I  feign'd  an  angry  look, 

Aht!    I  lored  you  best. 

Own  but  tbe  same  to  me — you'U  find 
How  UeM  will  be  our  ^- 

0  to  be  btpfy — to  be  kind- 
Sure  nertr  is  too  taiel 


418.  Oh  One  viho  died  Jiscovermg  her 

Kindness 

COME  vex  their  souls  with  jealons  juiin, 
'-'     While  othen  Mgh  for  cold  diMtfin : 
Lovc*»  variOB*  ioM*  ve  daily  see — 
Yft  bipp)'  *U  coaifwed  with  mel 


DVKU.  OF  BUCKINGHAMSHIRE 

Of  all  nuokind  I  loivi  the  bMt 
A  Rympli  »  far  above  the  rwt 
Tlut  wc  out^sliincd  the  BWtt  abote; 
In  be-juiy  ibc,  us  I  in  love. 

Anil  therrfbre  They,  who  could  not  bear 
To  be  ouidone  bf  monah  Ikit. 
Among  tliemH-ivM  lia»c  pland  her  now. 
And  left  ne  wretched  be(«  below. 

All  oihi-t  ftilc  I  «Hild  hate  boroe^ 
And  creo  endured  her  itty  Mont 
But  oh !   ibua  all  at  once  CO  find 
Th»t  dread  account — botlt  dead  and  kindl 
What  hnrt  c:tn  bold  >     If  |«t  I  live, 
Tia  but  to  thow  how  much  I  griere. 


THO^US  OTWAY 

MQ.  The  Enchantment 

f    DII>  but  look  aad  tore  awliilc, 
'''     Twas  but  for  one  half-hour; 
Then  to  re&iEi  I  had  no  will, 
And  now  I  have  no  power. 

To  sigh  and  wbh  is  nil  my  eeci 
Sighs  which  do  beat  impart 

Enough  10  inelt  the  coldctt  ice. 
Yet  cannot  warm  your  btan. 

O  would  yxnir  pty  gire  my  heart 
One  comer  of  your  brent, 

"Twould  learn  of  yours  the  winning  an, 
And  quickly  unl  the  rest. 


JOHN  OLDHAH 

430.  A  ^iet  Soul 

'T^HY  1011I  wixliiD  luch  (ilcm  pooif)  did  keq>, 
^      As  ir  homaniiir  were  tull'd  aiJec]> ; 
So  penik  wts  ihy  |>i)gnnu|e  bc&catli, 

Time's  unheard  fttt  scaicc  nukr  Icis  nuise, 
Ot  the  soft  journey  which  a  planet  goo: 
Life  cccm'd  all  cabn  u  iu  la«t  bicath. 
A  uiU  UanquiUity  to  bosh'd  thy  bm»t, 
As  if  iORie  Halc)'on  turn  its  giwst, 
AimI  Uicn  had  buili  hn  nm: 
It  hardly  now  enjoys  a  £rrater  rr«t. 


JOHN  CUTTS.  LORD  CUTTS 


471.  ^on^ 

ONLY  Iril  her  that  I  loTt  1 
Ltiive  the  rest  to  her  and  Patet 
SoBle  kind   |)Lincl  from  ahare 
May  perhaps  her  pity  more: 

Lowers  00  ilieii  wan  mux  wait,*— 
Only  lell  her  that  I  lorel 

Why,  0  why  should  I  dripiirl 
Mcf«y  's  pKtuted  in  her  eye  1 

If  she  OEKT  rouchufc  to  hear, 

WekocM  Hope  and  farewell  Fori 
She's  too  good  to  let  inr  die. — 

Why,  O  why  should  1  iit^fdr} 


it»i-i7<i: 


»») 


MATTHEW  PRIOR 


tM«-i 


4x1.         The  SitKJfien  to  Lisetta 

^AniAT  oymph  should  I  »dimre  01  trou, 

*^     But  Chloe  beauteous  Chloc  just  \ 
What  njrn^h  should  I  denrc  to  »rc, 
But  her  who  leaves  the  pljuQ  for  mcf 
To  whom  should  I  compose  tlie  tiy, 
But  hn-  who  liucBS  when  I  fJay  \ 
To  whom  in  Mci;;  tvprai  mjr  cam, 
But  her  who  in  my  sorrow  sham  \ 
For  whom  should  I  the  gailand  nuke, 
But  her  who  joys  tlie  gift  10  take, 
And  bouts  she  vtan  it  for  ray  sake  ? 
In  love  am  t  not  fully  blest  f 
Lbciu,  fTJ'Jice  tell  the  rest. 

ItaTTAls  mtRT. 

Sure  Chloc  just,  and  Chloe  (air, 
I>eservcs  to  be  your  only  carcj 
But,  when  you  and  she  to-day 
Far  into  tlic  wood  did  stray, 
And  I  liappco'd  to  pass  by, 
Which  way  did  you  cast  j-our  eye  ? 
But,  when  your  cart*  to  her  you  sing. 
You  dare  not  tell  her  whccrc  ihcy  sptiogi 
Does  it  not  more  afflict  youi  heart. 
That  in  those  cam  she  bcara  a  ptfti 
When  you  the  liowers  for  Chloe  twine. 
Why  do  you  to  her  garland  join 
The  meacest  bud  that  falls  from  mine? 
Simjiteit  of  sw-wm!    the  world  may  see 
Whom  Chloc  lores,  and  who  loves  lor. 

4» 


MATTHEW  PRIOR 


43 J.         To  a  ChiU  of  ^alit/t 

Fni*   Ttari  Old,   tjo^.      Th*  Author  lira   Forty 

I   ORDS,  kaij[tit5,  tad  stjuim,  the  tiunutwu  band 
^  Thit  wew  ihe  f»ir  Miw   Mary's  fcltctt, 
WeiT  siuiunoncd  by  bcr  high  conun^iod 
To  >how  tbcif  pituiona  by  tbcir  leiccre. 

My  pot  uwagu  the  rest  1  took, 
L<H  those  bright  cyeg,  thkt  unooc  nwA, 

Should  dan  tlieiT  kindling  bro,  and  look 
TIk  power  tbey  have  to  be  obey'd. 

Nor  quality,  not  tcpuuiion. 

Forbid  mc  )xx  my  fliine  to  tcUi 
JDnr  Five>yeax»-oId  bcftieods  niy  [lasuoa, 

And  I  may  write  till  abc  can  ipelL 

For,  while  she  makes  her  siUcworatt  beds 
With  all  the  lender  things  I  swear-, 

WhilH  lU  the  houw  my  paauoo  reads. 
In  papers  rmod  her  baby's  bait) 

She  nuy  receive  and  own  my  Same ; 

For,  though  the  »iricte»  prudct  ^ould  know  it. 
Shell  ]ia»  for  a  loon  Tinuous  dame, 

Aod  1  for  ao  unbaptiy  pott. 

Then  too^  alaa!  when  abe  shall  tear 
The  rhymes  tome  younger  rival  sends. 

Shell  give  me  Imvc  to  «Titc,  I  fev, 
Aod  we  shall  still  ooouiiue  fricndt. 

For,  as  our  dilfcrem  if/ei  mon, 

Tis  w  ordain'd  (would  Fate  but  mend  k!), 
That  I  shall  be  fuse  making  lore 

WiiEti  she  bcgiu  to  oorapf^ieikd  it. 

k,  4»» 


4^4- 


MATTHE\\'  PRIOR 


Song 


'T'HE  merchant,  lo  vxxtrt:  his  treasure, 
*■       Cmnj%  it  in  a  borrow'd  nunc: 
EuphclM  icrrrt  to  giMc  my  me.i»irei 
Bui  Chloc  is  my  real  flame. 

My  softest  Tcisc,  mjr  darling  lyre. 

Upon  Euphelia*!!  toilet  lay  j 
Wbm  Chloe  nowd  bcr  desire 

TbK  I  dionld  sing,  that  I  slioukl  fby. 

My  lyre  I  tune,  my  voice  I  nite; 

But  witli  my  tnirobeni  mix  my  lighst 
And  while  I  ting  Euphctis's  jintisc, 

1  fix  my  soul  on  Chloc't  eyes. 

F»Jr  ChJoc  blush'd:    EuphcUa  frown'Ji 

1  sung,  and  gitied:    t  |>Uy'd,  sod  tiembicd: 

And  Venus  to  the  Loves  around 

Remark'd,  how  ill  we  all  diKsembied. 


42f.      On  My  Birthday,  July  ii 

T     MY  <kar,  was  boni  to^y^ 

^J     So  all  my  jolly  coramdcf  say: 

They  bring  me  mu^ic,  wifUhs,  utd  miitli, 

And  ask  to  celcbraic  my  binb; 

Little,  alas!   my  comridcs  know 

That  I  was  born  lo  pain  and  woei 

To  thy  deiual,  (o  thy  scora, 

Belter  I  b*d  ne'er  been  boni: 

I  wish  to  die,  eren  whilst  I  say-"* 

'I,  my  dear,  was  bom  to-day.' 


MATTHEW  PRIOR 

I,  my  detr,  was  born  lo-dtf  i 
Shan  I  salute  xbe  ritong  ny, 
WeHipring  of  all  my  joy  and  vnxi 
Clotildt.  thon  alone  dost  know. 
Sliall  the  wn-ai}i  surroiiod  my  haii? 
Or  shall  the  music  |ilcase  my  car  f 
Shall  I  my  comradn'  minli  receife. 
And  blc«s  my  birth,  and  vish  to  lin  t 
'I^cn  let  mc  xc  grrat  Venus  chase 
Imperious  uger  from  tliy  face ; 
Then  let  mc  hear  t}iec  smiling  say — 
'Thoa,  my  dear,  wwt  bora  to-day.' 


4irf.  T6e  Lat/f  who  offers  her  Lociin^ 
Ghisj  to  Vetms 

■WENUS,  take  my  Todre  gUsB: 
'     Since  I  am  not  what  I  w», 
What  from  this  day  I  shall  be, 
Vcous,  let  nw  nerer  >ee. 


+?7.  A  Letter 

Lattf  Margartt  CavemSjh  HoBit'HarUj,  v>hr»  a  CiilJ 

[Y  noble,  lovely,  Uttlc  Peggy, 

Let  tius  my  First  Einstle  be{  ye. 
At  fiawn  of  mom,  and  tkyte  of  ercn. 
To  lift  yoo*  bart  and  hand*  lo  HetiTcn. 
In  do«Ue  daty  uy  your  pnycr: 
Oar  Falhtr  first,  theti  Nvin  Pert. 

V 


M' 


MATTHEW  PRIOR 

And,  devest  cluld,  along  the  day, 
la  trcty  thing  you  do  and  say. 
Obey  «nd  pJcaM  my  lord  md  lady. 
So  Cod  shall  loTc  and  aagcis  aid  yc, 

IT  to  these  precepts  you  aliend, 
No  second  letter  need  I  send, 
And  M  I  test  your  constant  frwad. 

^jS.         Fw  my  own  Monument 

AS  doctors  gire  pliysic  by  way  of  pRvcndon, 
•'*'  M*t,  alive  and  in  liisaltli,  of  his  wa&nsoat  look 
For  delay*  are  unsaTe,  and  his  pious  inintioa 
May  baply  be  never  fulSll'd  by  his  beir. 

Tbni  take  Mat's  word  Tor  it,  the  scdpior  is  paid  t 
That  llie  tigure  is  lioc,  pray  tM'liciv  your  own  eye ; 

Vet  credit  but  lii;l«Iy  whjt  more  nuy  be  s«d, 
For  we  flatter  ourselves,  and  Ceich  marble  to  lie. 

Vn  fioufiiing  as  fu  as  to  fifty  his  years. 

His  vittucs  and  fiots  were  as  other  men's  arc ; 

Hijih  hopes  be  concdied,  aiid  he  smoth(r*d  great  fe 
Id  a  life  pani*co)our'd,  half  pleasote,  half  care. 

Nor  to  buuncss  a  drudgf,  nor  to  faction  a  slare. 
He  strove  to  make  int'rest  and  freedom  agR«; 

In  public  employments  industrious  aod  £ra*e, 

And  alone  with  hit  fritndx,  Lord!  how  iDCtiy  was  he! 

No»-  in  eciuipaitc  stalely,  now  bumbly  oa  foot. 

Both  fortuttcs  he  tried,  but  to  Dtither  would  irusti 

And  whitl'd  in  the  toimd  as  the  trtieel  tnrn'd  about, 
I'lci'  found  lichcs  bad  wings,  and  knew  laan  was  hot 
«M 


MATTHEW  PRIOR 


Tlus  wrw,  link  polish'd,  tbo'  mighty  lincric, 

Sns  MfUiM  hit  tiilo  nor  merit  to  lim ; 
It  uya  thK  his  kIks  collccicd  lie  here, 

Axi  no  moiul  yet  knows  too  if  this  may  be  trvr. 
Fierce  nibbm  there  ire  thn  iarest  the  highway. 

So  Mu  attj  be  kiD'd,  and  hb  boeie*  never  found; 
FjIk  wiiarss  u  coun,  and  lierce  lemjiesu  at  lea, 

So  Mat  may  yet  chance  to  be  ban^d  or  be  drawn'il. 
If  hb  botKi  lie  in  eanh,  roll  in  sea,  lly  in  iiir, 

Ta  Faie  we  mast  yield,  and  the  thi&g  b  the  same ; 
And  if  passing  ihou  ^>'st  him  a  ^nule  or  a  lev, 

He  cares  not — j-et,  prithee,  be  ktn<l  to  hb  fnnw. 


4J9. 


WILLIAM  WALSH 

(~^P  all  the  tonnents,  all  tbe  cms, 
^-^     With  which  our  live*  arc  curst; 
Of  all  the  |>bguM  a  loTcr  bears, 

Su/e  rivals  are  ibe  worst ! 
By  ptrtnen  in  each  other  kind 

Afiietiona  easier  {row; 
In  lore  aloite  we  bale  to  lind 

CiMnpaniona  of  our  woe. 

Sylm,  for  sll  the  pangs  yoa  sec 

Are  labouring  b  niy  breast, 
I  bej  not  you  wodd  favour  me. 

Would  yoo  but  ^ight  the  test! 
How  great  soc'ei  your  rigours  arc, 

With  ibem  Jooe  I'll  eoj«; 
I  cao  cadaic  my  own  dcspaii, 

Bin  not  anoihef's  hope. 


LADY  CniSIEL  BAILLIE 

4^0.  ff^erena  rny  Hearts  licht  /  viad  da 

'T'HERE  ance  ms  a  mi\f,  aod  she  lo'ed  aa  iDcni 
^     Sbc  biggit  h«  bonroe  bow'r  <li)un  in  jroo  glcDi 
But  now  »bc  cries,  Dool  and  a  wcll-a-dij ! 
Corae  <loun  the  green  gait  and  come  here  Bwiyl 

When  boniue  >-oung  Johfiluc  cun  oim  the  sea, 
He  Mid  be  mw  uetliiag  sae  torely  as  me; 
He  hcchc  me  baitb  ringt  and  mony  braw  diiags— 
And  ivcteoa  my  bcatt'i  licbl,  I  wad  dee. 

He  hod  a  wee  tiity  tbst  lo'cd  nu  me, 

Because  I  was  twice  as  boiuiie  as  sbei 

Sbc  raised  sic  a  pother  'twtxt  him  and  ha  motlicr 

Tbiii  wcrcna  my  bun's  licht,  1  vad  dec. 

The  d.iy  it  was  set,  and  the  bridil  to  be! 
The  wife  cook  n  dwnin  aod  lay  doua  to  dee; 
She  maoed  aad  she  grancd  out  o*  dotour  utd  paifl^l 
Till  he  vow'd  he  never  wad  s«e  me  again. 

His  kis  was  for  ane  of  a  highet  degree, 
Said — What  hnd  be  do  wi'  the  like*  of  me? 
Appose  I  was  bonnic,  I  wasm  for  Johntuc — 
Aod  werena  mj  bean's  licht,  I  wad  dee. 

Tbcy  Kiid  I  had  ncitbcr  cow  nor  calf, 
Not  dribbles  o'  diink  rins  thro'  the  draif, 
Nor  pickles  o'  meal  rins  thro'  the  mill-c*e-~ 
And  weretu  ray  heart's  lichi,  I  wsd  dee. 

nmy]  mud.  biggit]  buill.  f.xA'S  w«y.  path. 

pvomiMd.  titty]  litter.  dwKm]  lUfSdm  IIImm.  >PpOM] 

MppMe.       thro'  ih«  draff]  on  dnu^t      ptokUs}  nnail  qnaa 


LADY  GRISEL  BAILLIB 

Hia  tittf  ibe  wu  baith  vylie  uxt  iltei 
She  tjied  mc  IS  I  cam  owrc  the  tea; 
And  tbcn  sbe  na  io  and  made  a  loud  ilia — 
Betinc  jrour  aio  e'eo,  m  ye  irow  noi  nie. 

Hit  bocmet  ftood  ay  fu*  round  oa  hit  brow, 
Hi*  auld  >ne  look'd  tj  as  wdl  aa  mrw'*  new; 
Bui  now  he  lets  't  wtsu  ooy  gut  it  will  bing, 
Aad  casts  hiniMl  dowtc  upon  the  corn  bi^s- 

And  DOW  be  f;aes  dauad'riDg  about  the  dykn. 
And  a*  be  daw  do  U  to  bund  ibe  tykc»: 
The  Uve-Iang  nicht  he  oe'ei  &t«eks  l^s  e'« — 
And  wetcm  my  bean's  Ikht,  I  wad  dee. 

Were  I  but  yeong  for  (her,  as  I  hae  bcvn, 
Wc  should  bae  bem  {■aUo^'in'  douii  in  yon  green, 
And  ti&kin'  ii  own  tb«  lily-white  lea — 
And  wow,  sin  I  wen  but  youog  foe  thcei 

WILLIAM  CONGREVE 
~4Ji.  False  though  She  be 

I^ALSE  tbough  she  be  to  me  and  lot«, 
'      I'll  ne'er  puwuc  rcteogc; 
For  still  the  charmer  I  approve, 
Though  I  dcjilore  bet  cbange. 

In  boun  of  bitsa  we  oft  bare  met: 

Tbcy  could  not  always  last ; 
And  though  the  prrwiu  I  regret, 

I'm  grateful  for  the  )««i. 

4j».  hiBc)  hang.  <!owlc]  i](}tcl«(flr.         haad  th<  tjknl  haat 

Uw  heiinik.  rtecki]  cUwca.  Uokial  goiag  •rni'ln'imi 


WILLIAM  CONCREVE 


4}i.  A  Hue  and  Cry  after  Fair  Amorel 

pAIR  Aflioret  U  gooc  Astnij — 
*       Punuc  mid  **ek  h«,  tv'ry  lover; 
I'll  tell  the  signs  by  which  you  nuy 
The  waad'iinj  Sheplierde^s  diwoTer. 

Coquette  and  coy  at  once  hn  «ir, 

Both  studied,  tho'  both  teem  neglectnl ; 

Carrleu  she  is,  with  uiful  care, 
Affecting  to  9(*ni  unaffected. 

With  ikill  her  eyes  dan  ev'ry  glance, 

Yet  change  »  »oon  you'd  ne'er  suspect  them. 

For  ibe'd  perausde  ibey  wound  by  chance, 
Tho'  ocnain  aim  and  an  direct  theto. 

She  likes  berwif,  yet  others  hatn 
For  tliat  which  in  het^lf  the  prizei  t 

And,  while  she  loughs  M  them,  foiigets 
She  is  the  thing  that  she  despises. 


JOSEPH  ADDISON 

All'  ffy"'" 

'T^HE  spacious  fimunieDi  oo  high, 
*       With  all  the  blue  ethereal  ^y, 
And  spangled  hcaveos,  a  sbiaiiig  frame. 
Their  great  Original  proeiaim. 
Th'  unwearied  Sun  ftom  day  to  dflj 
Docs  his  Ctcaior's  (-ower  display  i 
And  publishes  to  ei-ery  land 
The  work  of  an  Almighty  hand. 
w6 


teif>-t;t4 


JOSEPH  ADDISON 

Sooo  as  ibe  evening  sliades  pretail, 
The  Moon  ukes  np  the  wondroot  lalet 
And  nightly  to  ilie  listening  Earth 
Rqints  Uw  story  of  bet  binh : 
Whilu  *U  the  stars  that  tound  htr  bum, 
And  >ll  tbe  planets  in  ilidr  cum, 
Ccofirm  tbe  tidiags  u  tbey  roll, 
And  cprrad  the  tnith  from  pole  to  pole. 

Wbit  thouf.h  in  iolemD  lileiKC  ■!■ 
Move  round  tbe  <brlc  tcfreMrial  boll ; 
Wbu  though  nor  r«J  voice  oor  wMod 
AnwlH  their  tidiuil  orfos  be  found? 
In  RcMMd's  tax  they  aII  tcjoice. 
And  utter  fonb  t  glorious  voice  i 
For  ever  unging  as  they  khtne, 
'The  Hind  that  made  n  is  ditine.' 


ISAAC  WATTS 
4}  4.         The  f>ajf  of  yuJgtment 

\V^HEN  the  fierce  North-wind  with  hi*  airy  force* 

Rears  up  the  Sahk  to  a  fowling  fiiry ; 
And  the  red  tighuioi  with  1  stonn  of  bail  comn 
Rmhing  amain  down ; 

low  tlic  poor  Mion  n*&d  antaaed  and  trrmble, 
^bile  the  faoMse  thunder,  Ulte  a  bloody  trtrnqxi, 
Roars  a  loud  otaet  to  the  ga{ang  vaters 

Quidt  to  Atrtwa  tbtm. 


ISAAC  WATTS 

Such  shilt  the  ooUe  be,  and  the  «ild  diwnler 
(If  thingt  (tenul  vomj  be  like  ibnt  nnhly), 
Such  ihc  dire  icrtor  when  tbc  gmt  Archangel 
Sbakn  the  aetiloot 

Tore  the  moog  pillin  of  the  vxalt  of  Hcami, 
Bml:s  op  old  mirhtc,  the  ivfosc  of  princes, 
Sees  the  gniTcs  open,  ind  the  bone&  ariMDg, 

Flames  all  jommi  tbem. 

Huk,  the  shrill  outcriei  of  the  luilty  wretches  I 
Livfljr  bright  horrtn  and  amazing  anguiih 
Siare  thro'  their  cj-clids,  while  the  liibg  worni  Iks 
Giuvring  within  them. 

Tlioughts,  liltc  old  \-u1tQm,  pny  upon  their  hfiUt-stting 
And  the  &m»rt  twinges,  when  tbc  eye  beholds  At 
Lofty  Judge  frow&iag,  and  n  Sood  of  ita^tsaut 
Rolling  afore  hint. 

Hopeless  immortals  1    how  they  screxm  snd  sluver, 
While  devils  push  them  to  tbc  pit  wide-yawning 
Hideous  and  gtooniy,  to  receive  them  hcadtoc^ 
pawn  to  the  centre! 

Stop  here,  my  fincy:    (all  nviy,  ye  horrid 
Doleful  idns!)  come,  arise  to  JcniK, 
How  He  HIS  God'like!    and  the  »ints  arooid  Him 
Throned,  yet  adoring! 

O  may  I  ut  there  when  He  coma  trinraphani, 
DoomiDg  the  nations  1    ilien  ascend  to  glory, 
While  our  Hotaonas  all  along  the  ftian^ 

Shout  the  Redeemer. 

«9S 


ISAAC  WATTS 


4if.  A  Cradle  Hymn 

LJUSHI    my  dear,  lie  Kill  »nd  slumber, 
^  ^    Holy  Mgds  {iwrd  tliy  btdt 
HnTcnly  blesKiigs  without  nombcr 
Gently  Ming  oo  ihjr  bead. 

Sttep,  my  tMbc;  thy  food  and  nmmM, 
Ho<tM  tnd  homr,  thy  frinids  providr; 

All  whhoot  thy  caie  or  jiaymcnt: 
All  thy  wania  mc  well  Mip^icd. 

How  much  brtter  tbou'rt  attmdrd 
Than  the  Soo  of  Cod  co«ild  be, 

When  from  lieateo  He  dwcwKW 
And  becimc  a  child  like  tbee  I 

fioTt  aad  easy  H  thy  crMltc : 
Coane  and  bard  thy  SaTJoor  by. 

When  His  birthpUce  was  a  stable 
Aod  Hii  softest  bed  wu  hay. 

Blewtd  babel    what  glorioos  featuns — 

Spotkw  Grir,  difinHy  bngbi ! 
Must  He  dwell  with  bniul  creatiuesf 

How  oouU  angela  bear  the  i^btf 

W»  there  Docking  but  a  manger 

CuisM  sinners  coold  afford 
To  r«ei»e  the  heavenly  stranger? 

Did  they  thus  atfroot  their  Loid  \ 


(SAAC  WATVS 

Soft,  my  child:   I  did  noi  ch>d«  thcc. 
Though  mjr  »ong  might  soumi  too  hatd ; 

Tn  thy  mothcT  «a  bnitle  thcc. 
And  her  anna  shiU  be  ihy  guiud. 

Yet  to  read  the  shameful  siory 
How  the  Jcvf  abused  their  Kin^, 

Wow  iliey  nerred  ibc  Lord  of  Gkx^, 
Mikes  me  ingry  while  I  siag. 

See  the  kinder  shepherds  ronnd  Him. 

Telling  wonders  froni  the  sky  I 
Where  they  Muglit  Him,  there  tbey  fbuod  His 

With  Hb  Virgin  mother  by. 

See  the  lovely  b*be  )i-<lres»Qg; 

Lovely  inftnt,  bow  He  smiled ! 
When  He  wept,  the  mother's  blessing 

Soothed  aod  hush'd  the  holy  child. 

Lo,  He  slumber*  in  His  manger, 

Where  the  homM  oten  fed; 
Peace,  my  darling;    here's  no  danj^, 

Here's  no  ox  «near  thy  bed. 

IVas  10  sare  ihre,  child,  from  dying, 
Sii'e  my  dc«  from  bunting  flonci 

Bitter  gioaos  and  endleu  cryi&g. 
That  thy  blesi  Redeemer  canw. 

Ma/st  then  ItTe  to  know  and  faa  Him, 
Trust  utd  love  Him  all  thy  days; 

Then  go  dwell  for  ever  Mar  Him, 
See  His  face,  and  sing  His  fTMM  I 


THOMAS  PARNELL 

M^HEN  thy  bwuiy  apiioMs 
*•     In  in  {races  and  »ifs 
All  bngbt  u  ut  aD{d  kw  (Irojif>'d  from  the  tky, 
Ai  dixUDoe  I  gaze  and  am  awtrd  hj  my  fears ; 

So  Rirangely  you  dazzle  my  eyel 

Bat  when  mthoui  an 
Your  kiad  tliou^u  you  imj'art, 
|Wbco  your  loie  runs  b  Uutlm  tbrougli  etery  *e!ai 
fbva   h   darts    from   your  cyo,    when   it   p^nu   in   your 
hesui, 
Then  I  know  you're  a  woman  a^wn. 

There  's  a  puion  and  pride 

In  our  sex  (die  reflied), 
And  thus,  mighi  I  gndfy  both,  I  would  do: 
Still  in  uftgrt  -ifpeaj  to  each  loicr  bcsid^ 

Bol  ftiii  be  «  womao  to  you. 


ALLAN  RAMSAY 


4S7.  Pegsr 

lUfV  Peggy  is  ■  young  thing. 

"■'■     Jost  ester'd  in  her  leeivs 
Fur  as  the  day,  and  ^wcct  ia  May, 
Fair  as  ilie  day,  and  always  gayi 


rftf-tm 


sw 


ALLAN  RAMSAY 

Mj  Peggy  i>  >  ywDg  ibbg, 
And  I'm  not  very  auld. 

Yet  wcl!  1  like  to  meet  her  at 
1'hc  wiwUftg  of  the  iiiukL 

My  Peggy  speaks  sac  sweetly 

Whene'er  we  mrei  aluc, 

I  wi-th  DAc  mair  to  Uy  my  care, 

I  wUh  Dae  malt  of  a'  that '%  nit  t 

My  Pe^Sy  ^P*^^  ^*e  sveetly, 

To  a'  the  ki-c  I'm  nuld. 

But  sbe  gan  a'  my  Kjiiriu  glow 

At  wawkbg  of  the  fauld. 

My  Peggy  smiles  sae  Itindly 
Whene'er  I  whjsper  lote, 
Tbat  I  look  down  on  a'  tbe  town, 
That  I  look  down  upon  a  crown  { 
My  Peggy  smiles  axe  kindly, 

It  mukes  me  biyth  anil  bauld. 
And  OMthing  givn  me  sic  delight 
As  wawking  of  the  fauld. 

My  Peggy  sings  sac  safily 
When  on  my  (ripe  1  pby, 
By  »'  the  rest  it  is  coofcsi. 
By  a'  the  rest,  that  sbe  nngx  best; 
My  Peggy  sings  sae  »ftly, 

And  it)  her  aangs  are  tauM 
With  inuoccQcc  ifac  wale  of  sense, 
At  wawkinj;  of  the  fould. 


wawklog)  watdting. 


Uv«]riI. 


wale]  cbdoe,  beat 


B' 


WILLIAM  OLDYS 

438.  0«  «  F//  Jrinkhig  out  of  his  Cup 

>USY,  curious,  tliirsty  fly) 

Drink  with  nc  and  drink  m  1 1 
Fwely  welcome  10  my  mp, 
Coddit  ihoa  lip  mkI  tip  ic  up: 
Make  the  noit  of  life  yon  nuy, 
Life  is  shon  asd  wcara  away. 

Both  alike  are  mine  and  thine 
Haftming  (juick  to  tlicir  decline: 
Thine *>  a  nimiDcr,  mine's  no  moK, 
Though  Ttpeatcd  \a  threescore. 
Threescore  sununers,  when  they're  jone, 
WUl  appear  as  (butt  as  one  I 


JOHN  GAY 

4i9-  Sous 

/^  RUDDIER  ihaa  the  cherry! 
^^     O  iwecter  dun  die  berry  I 

O  nymph  more  bright 

Than  moomhiM  ni^t. 
Like  kidliass  bGlbe  and  meny  I 
Ripe  as  tJie  mchii^  cliuler! 
No  lily  has  such  iuUre; 

Yet  hard  to  tame 

As  raging  flame, 
And  ficnc  •>  Konns  that  tiliaterl 


ALEXANDER  POPE 

440.     Oh  a  certain  Lady  */  Outrt 

I   KNOW  a  thing  iliat's  most  uncommooi 
*■     (Eovy,  be  stIcM  and  atteodl) 
I  know  *  reuonable  wonua, 

Handtome  and  witty,  yet  a  frieod. 

Noc  wtf]>'d  by  pMaion,  awed  by  rumour ; 

Not  gnve  through  pride,  dm  gay  tluougb  lolly  | 
An  Mjtu]  mixture  of  ^ooJ-humovr 

And  sensible  toft  mdiincholy. 

'Hat  she  no  faults  tbcn  (Enry  siya),  Sir^' 

Ye4,  nhe  has  ooe,  I  must  artri 
Wlicn  all  the  world  cooipim  to  praise  Ikt, 

The  woman's  deaf,  and  docs  not  hear. 


44/.      E.leQr  fo  tke  Memory  of  an 
Unfarttmate  Lad/ 

VW'HAT  beck'ning  gbost,  aloag  the  mooiUiglit  thadt 

''       Inntes  my  steps,  and  points  to  yonder  gl^deJ 
n'is  »he!— but  why  that  Ueedbg  boMm  gored. 
Why  dimly  gleams  the  irisiooary  swvrd? 
0,  excr  beiu[«Ous,  cwt  friendly  !  te!l. 
Is  it,  in  Hear'n,  a  crime  to  lore  too  weU? 
To  bear  too  teniltr  or  too  firm  a  hean, 
To  act  a  lover's  or  a  Roman's  [«n? 
Ii  there  no  bri^,ht  rcvcnion  in  the  sky 
I'or  [faoK  who  gicatly  think,  or  bravely  die^ 


ALEXANDER  POPE 


Wliy  bade  ye  ebe,  ye  Pow'nl   ha  *oul  a-ipire 

Abotc  the  rolgtf  Aight  of  low  dcsiiv? 

Ambition  fint  spnmg  from  y«iu  b(c«  abodes ; 

Tbc  prions  (inilt  of  ansfls  ind  of  gods ; 

Tbmce  to  theii  images  oo  eartli  it  flows, 

And  b  ibe  breasts  of  kings  and  bcroct  glows. 
I      Most  sods,  'tis  tnic,  but  peep  out  once  an  ige, 

Dull  sulkn  ptis'iMTS  in  the  body's  cage: 

Dim  tights  of  life,  that  burn  ■  Ieng:tli  of  years, 

UkIcss,  unseen,  >«  lanps  b  lepalchres; 

Like  Eastern  kings  a  Iny  ctate  they  keqi, 

And  cloie  conlined  to  tlirir  own  palace,  iJec]). 
Prom  these  peiliaps  (ere  Naton  bade  her  die) 

Fate  snatch'd  hrr  early  to  the  fityuig  iky. 

As  into  air  the  pgrcr  B|Rrits  flow, 

And  wp'fate  from  their  kindred  dre^  below, 

So  Qew  the  sod  to  it3  cooseniil  place, 
^B  Mor  left  oae  rittue  to  redeem  her  nee. 
^H^  But  iboo,  Cilse  guardian  of  a  charge  too  good ! 
^n^OD,  mein  deaener  of  thy  brothcr'c  blood ! 
^Rec  on  these  ruby  lips  the  irenibling  breath, 

These  cbKks  now  fading  at  the  Uast  of  Death  i 
I      Cold  is  that  bteast  whidi  warm'd  the  world  before, 
I      And  those  lorenlarting  eyes  mult  roll  no  more. 
1      Tlw^  if  etenial  Justice  rules  the  ball, 
I     Thu  thall  your  wnvt,  and  thus  your  children  falli 
I      Ofl  all  the  line  a  sudden  vengeance  waits, 

And  ftei^ueot  hertes  shall  bniej;e  rour  gutes. 

"niere  patsengers  shall  stand,  and  ]«intiog  my 
I  (While  the  kwg  fm'rali  blacken  all  the  way), 
I      *  Lo  I    these  wcft  they  who«e  »o<ls  the  Furies  sKe4*d. 

And  cimed  with  hcans  unknowing  how  to  yield.' 
nlantentcd  pass  the  proud  sway, 


ALEXANDER  POPE 


The  ffOK  of  foolS)  aod  pageant  of  ■  dty  1 

So  periih  all  wbooe  bm«  iw'er  leatn'A  to  glow 

Tor  oifien'  good,  w  melt  at  aCheTs'  woe  I 

What  CUB  aiooe  (O  e*er-injun<l  shade!) 
Thy  fate  unfHiwd,  and  thy  rilrs  unpud? 
No  friend's  comj'laiiit,  do  kiod  donMstic  ttv 
PicMcd  thy  pale  jthost,  or  gracrd  thy  RMHirefiil  liia 
By  fbieif^  hands  Uiy  dying  eyes  were  clowd, 
By  foceigR  handi  thy  decent  Kmba  composed, 
By  foreign  hands  thy  humble  guvc  adom'd. 
By  suangen  honour'd,  and  by  slrangcrf  nMum'd  t 
\Vh3t  tho'  BO  friends  in  sable  weeds  appeui 
Grieve  for  an  hour,  perhafo,  then  tnoum  a  yeor. 
And  benr  aboct  the  roodcery  of  woe 
To  midnight  dances,  and  the  puUic  show? 
What  tho*  no  wnjiiog  Lores  thy  ashes  grace, 
Nor  polish'd  nurble  emulate  thy  face? 
What  tho'  (10  ucrrd  earth  allow  thee  room, 
No*  hallow'd  diTge  be  nwitter'd  o'er  thy  tomb? 
Yet  »h»ll  thy  grave  with  rising  6i>w't»  be  dreait. 
And  the  green  nirf  lie  lightly  iM  tby  breast: 
There  shall  tbe  itiom  her  esiliest  tcan  bestow. 
There  the  first  roses  of  the  year  shall  blow ; 
While  aBf;els  with  their  siher  wings  o'er^hldc 
The  grouod  now  sacred  by  thy  reltques  made- 

So  peaceful  rvsts,  without  n  stonr,  a  oaoie. 
Whai  once  had  beauty,  titles,  wealth,  and  ftme. 
How  loied,  how  honour'd  once,  aratts  thee  noi. 
To  whom  related,  or  by  whom  begot  i 
A  heap  of  dust  alone  remains  of  thee, 
Ti«  all  thou  art,  aod  ^  the  proud  shall  be! 

Poets  themselvei  must  fall,  like  tho«  they  snog, 
Deaf  the  praised  ear,  and  imile  the  tuoefid  longue. 


ALEXANDER  POPE 

Ev'b  he,  wbow  sod  mw  melts  in  mournful  Uy«. 
Shdl  sfaonlf  warn  Uic  grn'rous  tear  be  ^]r»  i 
Then  from  bis  doaisg  tya  thj  fbnn  shtll  pan. 
And  tbe  la*t  ptmg  tial\  Uaa  thee  rrom  his  hmi ; 
Liic's  idle  butinns  at  one  gup  be  o'er. 
The  Mum  fiorgot,  md  tbou  beloved  no  moce: 


T&e  'Dying  Christian  to  his  Sha/ 

WITAL  spMlt  of  heiv'tily  ftinic! 

Quit.  O  qnit  thii  mortal  frame  i 
Trembltag,  hoping,  ling'riog,  flfing, 
0  tbe  poia,  the  bliu  of  dying! 

Ce*M-,  fond  Nuure,  oe«uc  ihy  vtrife, 

And  let  me  Ungdnh  into  lile. 

H«rk!    tbey  «M*per:   angels  mj, 

Siitn-  Spirit,  come  away! 

What  i«  thit  atMOffc*  me  quite  ? 

Steals  my  st-ntet,  shuts  my  sigltt, 
Drowns  my  spirits,  draws  my  brvMh! 
Tdl  mc,  my  scvl,  can  this  be  death ! 

The  world  mxdei ;   it  disappeara  I 
Heif'o  opens  on  my  eyes  I  my  cars 

With  so«nda  senpliic  ring  I 
Lend,   lend  yooi  wings!    I  moant!    I  dy! 
O  Grate !    where  is  thy  victory? 

O  Dcdith !    where  ia  thy  ating  i 


GEORGE  BUBB  nODINGTON,  LORD 
MliLCOMBE 


H3- 


Shorlm  Sail 

T  OVE  thy  country,  vrah  k  well, 
*^     Not  with  too  uitcnse  8  cam 
Tis  cnoush  that,  wbra  it  fell, 
Thou  its  ttiia  (lidM  dm  shue. 

Envy's  censure,  Flattcry'i  praise, 
With  unmoved  iodtffcrciK«  view: 

Lnrn  to  tiud  Life's  dsR^cnMs  maze 
Witli  iincfTing  Virtue's  clue. 

Void  of  strong  desire  and  few. 
Life')  wthIc  «k»  tniK  oo  nmt  i 

Scrive  thy  little  birk  to  Mccr 
Widi  the  tide,  but  near  the  shoic. 

Tlius  prepared,  thy  sborten'd  uil 
Shall,  whene'er  the  winds  incrtaw, 

Selling  each  propitious  gale^ 
Waft  tliec  to  die  pon  oC  Peace 

Keep  thy  oococicncc  from  ofiesoe 
And  tempestuous  pusioas  five, 

So,  when  ihoii  art  call'd  from  hoin^ 
Easy  shall  thy  passage  be. 

—Easy  shaQ  thy  passitic  be, 

Cbccrfiil  thy  allotted  stay. 
Short  the  acoouot  'iwixt  God  and  thec^ 
Hope  shall  raect  tbcc  on  thy  way. 


le^iHf 


J 


HENRY  CAREY 

OP  all  the  girls  tfan  an  to  BKin 
There '%  Dooe  like  pretty  Silly  \ 
She  \\  ihc  d.irling  of  niy  heart, 

AcmI  }hi'  livci  in  our  jllcy. 

There  is  no  hd;r  >"  ^^  '^^ 

b  half  so  iwen  as  Sally ; 

She  is  the  darling  of  roy  heart, 

And  she  lim  ia  our  alley. 

Her  l^tbrr  hr  makes  cabhagcnets. 

And  throu£h  the  suvcts  do«  cry  'eni; 
Her  moUm  she  sells  bees  long 

To  such  as  picaw  to  buy  'emi 
But  9iire  Mcb  Folks  could  ne'er  beget 

So  sireet  a  cirl  as  Sally! 
SIk  ts  the  darling  of  my  heart, 

Aad  she  lires  in  tfot  alley. 

When  she  is  by,  1  learc  my  work, 

I  love  her  m)  uncerelyi 
My  nuMcr  comes  like  any  Turk, 

And  bongs  me  most  leverrly: 
Bui  lei  him  bang  hit  tKllyful, 

111  bear  ii  nil  for  SaUy; 
She  it  the  darling  of  my  heat^ 

And  she  Htcs  in  our  aUcy. 

Of  all  tbe  diys  ilut  's  in  the  week 

I  dearly  loi-c  but  doc  day — 
And  ilut's  the  day  that  comes  betwixt 

A  Satuiday  and  Monday  t 


HENRY  CAREY 

For  tben  I'ra  inat  ill  io  m)'  bnt 

To  wxlk  sbro»d  willi  Sally ; 
She  is  the  duling  o(  toy  beui. 

And  she  lives  in  our  ollcf. 

My  muter  cirrus  i»e  to  church, 

And  often  am  I  blamtd 
Bccaiuc  I  ietTc  lum  in  the  lurch 

A»  MOD  »  text  is  namtd ; 
I  leave  the  (Jiurch  in  Mrmoo-timr 

Aad  slink  away  to  Sally; 
She  is  the  darling  of  my  httn. 

And  she  litts  in  our  atlejr. 

When  ChristmaB  conies  alxnut  again, 

O,  then  I  sluU  have  moocy  ; 
III  board  it  uj>,  and  box  K  »II, 

I'll  pve  it  to  my  honey: 
I  would  it  were  ten  tbounod  pMnd, 

I'd  give  it  all  to  Sally; 
She  is  the  duling  of  my  hnrt. 

And  she  liits  tn  our  alley. 

My  nuster  >nd  the  neighbours  all 

Make  game  of  me  and  Sally, 
And,  but  for  her,  I'd  better  be 

A  ilave  and  row  a  galley ; 
But  when  my  seven  long  yean  are  oWa 

O,   then   I'll  marry  Sally ; 
O,  then  we'll  wed,  and  tlico  we'll  bed — 

But  Dol  ID  our  alley  I 


HENRY  CAREY 
A  Drinking  Song 

BACCHUS  nniM  now  his  )>owcr  rensa- 
I  ini  Ibc  only  Cod  of  Wm! 
]|  ii  not  fit  the  wmch  should  ]x 
In  corapetidaa  set  with  me, 
Who  can  dnnk  ten  timM  more  ihui  he. 

Make  a  new  world,  ye  powen  dirine! 
Stock'd  with  ootlung  else  but  Wne: 
Let  Wine  its  only  product  be, 
Let  Wine  be  earth,  and  air,  and  ks — 
And  let  tk«  Wine  be  all  for  rkI 


WILLIAM  BROOME 
The  Rosebud 


QUEEN  of  fragrance,  lovely  Rose, 
_  Tlic  beauties  of  tliy  leaves  diadoec  I 
—But  thou,  fair  Nyra]>h,  thyself  surrey 
In  this  sweet  oftspnng  of  a  day. 
That  minde  of  face  mi»t  fail. 
Thy  chanos  are  sweet,  but  cWms  are  fraSi 
Swili  aa  the  thon-liied  fio««i  they  Ay, 
At  mora  they  bloom,  at  ereninj>  die: 
Though  SiduNM  yet  a  while  forbearSi, 
Yet  Tone  destroys  what  Sickness  spores ; 
Now  Helen  lites  alone  io  fan»e, 
And  Cleopstra's  but  a  ntnKi 
Tine  tmnc  indent  dut  heamily  brow. 
And  iho«  must  be  what  they  are  now. 


'■•r*J 


WILLIAM  BROOME 

447-    Belinda's  Reamry  from  Shhness 

T^HUS  when  the  silent  grate  iKComes 
■^       PrcgnaM  with  life  as  frMftil  WDmt»| 
Whea  the  wide  seas  and  aptdous  eanh 

Re9i|[n  us  to  onr  Kcond  Urtlii 
Our  moulder'd  fnnK  rebuilt  asMDDU 
New  beflui]r,  and  for  eier  bloonis. 
And,  crowQ'd  with  youdt's  immonal  pride, 

We  aagcls  rise,  who  mortals  died. 


JAMES  THOMSON 

44*.  On  the  'Death  of  a  particular  Frienii 

AS  thoM'  wc  tove  decay,  we  die  in  ]iin, 
^^    String  ifier  string  is  sevcr'd  from  the  bean  ■, 
"nU  loosen'd  life,  «  last  but  breiihing  day, 
Withnut  one  pang  is  gbd  lo  fall  away. 

Unhappy  he  who  latest  feels  the  blow  I 
Whose  eyes  have  wept  o'er  ewry  fricBd  laid  low, 
Dragg'd  Bng'rins  on  from  partial  dcilli  lo  death, 
Till,  dying,  all  he  can  resi^  it— bceath. 


GEORGE  LYTTELTON.  LORD  LYTTELTOJ 
449.  Tell  me,  my  Heart ,  if  this  ht  Low 

VJ^HEN  Delia  on  the  flain  flppeirs. 

Awed  by  a  ifaousand  tender  fears 
I  would  approach,  but  dare  not  mote : 
Tell  me,  my  luart,  if  this  be  lore? 
J" 


LORD  LYTTELTON 

Whene'er  th«  ipeaki,  my  ravali'd  ear 
No  otJirr  rake  iluo  ben  caa  hear. 
No  other  wit  but  hen  approve: 
Tell  me,  my  bean,  if  thu  be  love  I 

If  (he  wciK  mher  youth  commend. 
Though  I  WM  oitw  ha  fondest  friend, 
His  iauaiK  eaemy  I  frore : 
Tell  me,  my  bevt,  tf  this  be  Imcf 

Wben  ibe  is  absent,  I  no  more 
Oeli^  in  all  Uiu  pleased  belore— 
Tbe  ckamt  ipfing,  or  shadiest  grove  i 
Tdl  me,  my  heart,  if  this  be  love  i 

Wjieo   food  of  power,   of  bi-auly   •nun, 
Her  nets  *h«  ifmd  for  every  swain, 
I  Mrate  to  hate,  bat  vainly  strore: 
Tell  me,  my  heart,  if  this  be  lore? 


SAMUEL  JOHNSON 

T  0NG-EXPL:CTED  One-aod-twcoiy. 
^    Lisg'riag  ynf,  at  length  is  flowa: 
Pride  and  pfeasure,  pomp  and  plenty. 

Gnu  •*•     •"*•,  art  WW  your  owo, 

Looien'd  from  the  minor's  tether. 

Free  to  mongjgr  or  lo  sell, 
Wild  as  wiod  and  lizltt  as  (eatber. 

Bid  tbe  soas  of  tluift  faiewdL 

S  M 


SAMUEL  JOHNSON 

Call  ibc  Bctfio,  Kaws,  and  Jeimin, 
All  tlic  lumes  that  banish  care: 

Lavihh  of  your  gnriiisiic's  guiiwas, 
Shuw  the  x[idnt  of  an  bdr. 

AQ  that  prey  OD  vice  and  folly 

Jojr  to  >ee  tlieir  tftuty  Syx 
There  the  gamntet,  light  aod  jolly, 

There  the  fender,  grave  and  sly. 

Wealth,  my  lad,  was  made  to  wafid<T, 

L«  ii  wandcf  as  it  w31; 
Coll  the  jockey,  call  the  poBder, 

Bid  ihcm  come  and  take  their  litl. 

When  the  bonny  bkde  carouses, 
Pockett  full,  and  (pints  high— 

What  are  acres  t     What  are  houses  ? 
Only  dirt,  or  wet  or  diy. 

Should  the  (;uardian  friend  or  iDOther 
Tell  the  won  of  wilfd  waste, 

Scom  their  counsel,  scom  their  pother  ;- 
You  can  liaa£  or  drown  at  lass  I 


4^1.  Ott  the  Death  of  Mr.  Rohert 
a  'Practiser  in  'Physic 

/^ONDEMN'D  10  Hope's  ddusm  nioe, 
^^    As  on  we  toil  irom  day  M  day, 
By  sudden  blasts  or  slow  dedine 
Our  Mcial  ooniforts  drof>  away. 
514 


SAMUEL  JOHNSON 

WeO  ukd  through  nmjr  a  vuyinK  yvu, 
S««  Lcvet  ta  tbe  gnTC  descend, 

Ol^ioiis,  mnoccni,  sioocrc, 

or  cr'ry  fiicDdlcss  rume  Ui*  frii-nd. 

Yd  still  he  Elb  sfTectioo's  rye, 
Obscurely  wise  and  ccAncly  kind; 

Nor,  IctUf'd  Arrogiiace,  deay 
Tby  praise  to  merit  uarefmed. 

When  iainting  auurc  cill'd  for  lid, 

And  hov'fiBg  dneli  i>rc|Nired  the  blow, 
'  Hia  ns'roua  rnaed/  d^iy'd 

The  powV  of  tn  witboot  the  stiow. 

In  MiMry's  dsrkrtt  caTem  known, 
Hi*  uscftil  care  was  ever  nigti, 
^ 'Where  hofctets  Anguish  pour'd  hb  gjvtn. 
And  loocly  Want  leurcd  to  die. 

No  suBunons  mock'd  by  chill  dday. 
No  petty  giun  disdiin'd  by  pride; 

The  modesc  mwits  of  e»'ty  day 
The  toil  of  cr'ry  day  nppltKl. 

Hb  nrtues  walk'd  tbeir  nairow  rtMnd, 
Nor  made  a  pui>e,  oor  left  >  loid; 

And  wre  ib'  t^icrml  Muter  found 
Tbe  tingle  talent  well  employ 'd. 

The  busy  dxy,  the  peaocfnl  nighl, 

UnfeU,  tncoanted,  glided  byt 
Hi>  frame  was  Smi— hi»  powen  wnr  briebi, 

Though  now  fab  dgbticth  year  was  nigh. 


SAMUEL  JOHNSON 

Then  wiih  00  fiery  ilirolAiDg  piin. 

No  cold  itradaiioiu  of  <lMay, 
Death  broke  «  once  the  riul  chain. 

And  freed  his  soul  the  nnimc  way. 


RICHARD  JACO 
4f2.  Absence 

'715-' 

VW'ITH  1e»dcn  foot  Time  crops  along 

*^      While  Ddia  iH  »wayj 
With  her,  aor  jilaintiTe  wu  the  MMq, 
Nor  tedious  was  the  tlay. 

Ah,  envious  Pov/rl    reverse  my  doom; 

Now  double  thy  career, 
Suain  ev'jy  nerve,  simch  cv'ry  {Jume, 

And  rest  them  when  she's  here  I 

THOMAS  GRAY 

4fj.    El^  wriltett  in  a  Country 
Cbmvbyard 

'  I  'HIi  corfrw  toik  the  knell  of  parang  day, 
^      The  toning  herd  wind  slowly  oVr  the  lea, 
The  plowman  homewan]  gilods  his  we^ry  wijr. 
And  lexves  the  wotid  to  darkness  and  to  loe. 

Nov/  fadc^  the  glimmcfing  landscape  on  the  sigh 
And  all  the  iiir  a  solemn  stillness  holds. 

Save  where  the  beetle  wheels  his  droniof  flight. 
And  drowsy  linhlings  lull  ihe  distant  folds: 
t>6 


THOMAS  GRAY 

SaiT  ihat  froni  yonder  i«]r-nuatled  towV 

The  mopuijt  owl  ilocn  to  the  dmkhi  corapLiin 

Of  nich  »,  waiKl*iing  aett  het  seem  bowV, 
Molm  lict  RikckM  soliury  ici^. 

ficnc^tth  thaw  nigf^  dm*,  (hat  jvwtne's  shide, 
Whcrt  beans  ihc  turf  in  mtoy  a  mould'iiog  bea)>, 

Each  in  fan  Btrrow  ctD  fov  ever  bid, 
7^  nide  (brefatlten  of  the  tuunlet  hieep. 

The  bntzy  call  of  ioccnw-hreiithing  mom, 

The  smllow  c«iil'riQg  fram  the  siraw-Uiili  iked. 

The  cock's  ftbtill  cUHod,  or  the  echoing  liom, 
No  more  ihall  rouK  tfaero  from  ilieir  kiwiy  heiL 

For  ihen  ao  mora  the  blazing  hearth  &hall  burn, 
Or  buy  houwwife  piy  btrt  rvi-mn]>  caie: 

No  childrm  ran  to  li>p  their  sire's  return, 
Or  diaib  hb  knees  ibc  enned  kits  to  skue. 

OJt  did  the  barrcat  to  ihetr  tickle  yield. 

Their  6anv  oft  the  Mobboro  glc^ie  his  broke; 

Hour  jocuitd  did  they  drive  their  team  afield ! 

How  bow'd  iLe  woods  beneath  their  sturdy  ittokc! 

I^i  not  Amfaiiion  mock  their  usdul  toil, 
Their  hon»ely  joys,  and  destiny  obKuret 

Nor  Graodeor  hear  with  a  ditdainful  smile 
The  slwn  and  simple  annals  of  the  poor. 

The  bosK  of  hergJdiy,  the  pomp  of  pow'r. 

And  all  that  beauty,   all  th*t  wealth  e'er  gXTt, 

Awnit  alike  th'  tnenlable  liour; 

The  paibs  of  glory  lead  but  to  ibe  grare. 


THOMAS  GRAY 

Nor  yoo,  ye  pwid,  impute  to  tbcK  the  fault 
tr  Memory  o'er  their  tomb  do  trophies  raisr. 

WIktc  through  the  long-drawn  ahlc  and  frmed  ndt 
Tlie  polmg  aotheni  swelb  the  note  of  prabe. 

Cut  storied  im  or  animaird  bu5t 

Bick  to  its  mansion  »1I  the  Srcting  breath  i 
Can  HoQOur's  voice  proToke  the  sBent  dust. 

Or  Flau'ty  soothe  the  dull  cold  ear  of  death ! 

Perhaps  in  th»  neglected  spot  is  laid 

Some  hmn  onc«  prcgDint  with  celestial  firet 

Hands,  that  the  rod  of  cin|iue  might  bate  iway'd, 
Or  waked  to  eotaty  the  liviag  lyre. 

But  Knowledge  to  their  eyes  ber  ample  page 
Rich  with  the  spoils  of  lime  did  ncVr  unioll  i 

Chill  Penury  rcpre^is'd  ihnr  noble  rage. 
And  froze  the  genial  current  of  the  looL 

Full  many  a  gem  of  purctt  ny  serene 

The  dark  unfntbora'd  caves  of  ocean  !>e»r: 

Full  many  a  Sower  is  bom  lo  blush  unveen. 
And  waste  its  swtctncM  on  ibc  dcwtt  air. 

Some  vilLige  Hampden  that  with  dnmless  btctat 
The  little  tyri0t  of  hts  fields  wmhstood, 

Some  mine  inglorious  Mtltoti  here  may  rest. 

Some  Cromwell  goikleM  of  his  country's  blood. 

Tb'  ajipl^uK  of  Sst'nin^  senates  to  oommnKt, 
The  threats  of  patn  and  niin  to  despHc* 

To  scaiiet  jilenty  o'er  a  smilins  land. 

And  read  tbdr  history  m  a  nation's  eyes — 
5* 


THOMAS  GRAY 

Thta  lot  foftiMle:    nor  drcianacTibcd  alone 

Tbcii  growing  *ifum,  biot  tlicir  cnma  oonlinedi 

Pofbtde  10  woiic  ihio'  slaughter  to  a  thron«. 
And  tbm  ih«  j;«tM  of  ntcrcy  oa  nunlund ; 

Tbe  mggltog  pan^s  of  conscious  tnilb  lo  hulc. 
To  i)Dtiich  ibe  Uushn  of  ingenuous  stunie, 

Or  br^  tlw  sbriae  of  Luxury  aod  Pritle 
With  iscoiM  luDcUed  at  tbe  Muse's  flame. 

Fir  from  ibe  BUKkfiog  crowd's  ignoble  strife 
Tbeir  sober  wishes  nerer  leira'd  la  stray; 

Along  tbe  cool,  set^uester'tl  vale  of  life 

They  kept  tbe  noiseless  tenor  of  tbtir  vtj. 

Yet  ev*n  these  bones  from  iosvh  to  protect 
Some  (mi  memorial  still  eieded  digh, 

^Viib  uncouth  rhymes  ind  shapeless  sculpture  deck'd, 
ImplottK  ilic  pssDg  tribute  of  a  sigh. 

Their  tDme,  their  ytan^  spek  by  th'  unlettcrM  Muse, 

The  place  of  fjine  and  degy  supply : 
And  many  a  holy  text  arauiKl  she  *tre«^ 

That  tc»ch  the  resck  morslist  to  die. 

For  who,  to  dnndi  Forgetfiitftess  ■  prey. 
This  pkasiag  uudous  being  e'er  tctign'd, 

L^ft  tbe  warm  [ffcancis  of  the  cheerful  diy, 
Nor  cut  one  loogias  Eag'riBg  look  bchiad  i 

On  some  fond  breast  the  parting  soul  rdies, 
Some  pious  drops  the  closing  eye  te^uimsi 

E'en  from  the  tomb  tlie  Tokr  of  Nainrc  cries. 
E'en  in  Ovr  asbn  lira  their  «oaud  fires. 


THOMAS  GRAY 

hot  Ukc,  who,  mindful  of  lb'  ixahoaoia'd  dend, 
Don  in  these  liaa  their  Brtlcxt  talc  (dne; 

If  chuicc,  by  londjr  comen^lation  l«d, 

Sonic  kindred  spirit  shall  taqtiirr  thy  {tu— 

Hsfljr  MOK  hosry-bndcd  iuun  may  ujr, 
'  Oft  bate  we  seen  htm  at  tbi-  ptef  of  iliwn 

Bni^blt  vnth  hasty  steps  the  di-w>  aw*y 
To  meet  the  sua  upon  the  upland  Uwn. 

'There  at  the  foot  of  yonder  Dodding  beech 
That  witatbes  tu  old  bicasiic  roots  w  bij^, 

lih  IiF>tJcs3  length  at  noomide  muld  he  stretiii, 
And  pote  upon  the  brook  tbn  babbles  by. 

'  Hatd  by  yon  wood,  now  nniling  aa  jg  tcora, 
Mutt'ring  hi»  wa)-wnrd  fancier  be  would  tare, 

Now  drooping,  wocful-Wiin,  like  one  forloni. 

Or  craud  wiih  care,  or  crou'd  in  hopdeu  1ot& 

'  One  mom  I  miss'd  him  on  the  cu<rioni'd  hill. 
Along  the  hnth,  ^ad  near  his  fat«unte  tree ; 

Another  canie ;    nor  yet  beside  the  riD, 

Nor  up  the  lawn,  nor  at  the  wuud  was  he: 

'The  next  with  dirges  due  in  sad  array 

Slow  tbruu^'.h  the  cburcb-way  path  we  saw  him  bomb 
Approach  and  read  (for  tbou  canxt  revl)  the  by 

Graved  on  the  atone  beneath  yoo  ag^  thorn:* 

r//S  BPtTAPH. 

Hm  rttU  tis  haul  i^oit  the  h^  ef  Earth 
ji  Tmtlh,  to  Ftrttmt  ami  M  Famr  vaiiMw*. 

Fmr  Science  /rvtia^J  not  on  hii  hutaUt  tirih, 
Jtiid  Melaniboly  marked  him  fiir  her  etim. 


THOMAS  GRAY 

Cargt  VIM  bit  hvalj,  and  iu  mb/  nnvrr, 
f/tat^m  Ad  d  rNemfmtt  m  largtfy  lenJ: 

Ht  guvr  U  Mii'ry  ail  it  tad,  a  Uar, 

Hi  ioit'd  frtm  Hrav'n  {'(twai  all  bt  vnth'd)  a  fiimd. 

N»  farihrr  ttti  iit  meritt  M  JiieUie, 

Or  Jrw  hii  /raiiliit  fnm  litir  drrad  atadC', 

(72cn  th*j  aSie  in  IrimbSii^  hvfe  repair,) 
Ti*  t*Mm  a/  tit  Fatter  and  hit  G«d, 


4f^        The  Qtrsf  upon  EdrxarJ 

^^EvAVE  ibc  watp,  and  wmrc  ihe  woof. 
**     The  windiag-ahcct  of  Edward's  race. 

Giv«  wnpk  room,  ud  Tctge  etHxigh 
Th«  chkncurs  of  hcQ  to  aace. 
Mark  the  ip^r,  uid  mark  the  nigbi. 
When  Scrcm  ihall  rc-ccba  «ith  aifrigbt 
I'he  shrieks  of  duth,  tbn>'  BokJey's  n»f(  ihu  ring, 
Shiicks  of  an  agonidDg  King  ! 

Slic-u-olf  of  Fnux«,  wth  umdriiUDf;  fangs 
That  tcai'M  (he  bowcb  of  ihy  nungled  mate, 

From  thee  be  bom,  who  o'er  thy  couoiry  hangs 
The  tconrge  of  HcaT'n.     What  terron  toond  faim  wsjt  t 
Amaaonent  in  his  van,  with  Flight  combi^icd. 
And  Sotiow's  &ded  lonn,  and  Solitude  bt-hind. 

Mi^l  Victor,  migtity  Lordt 
Low  on  bis  fiiMra]  couch  h«  lies' 

No  pitp>^  beart,  do  e]r«,  aliani 
A  tear  to  grace  his  bbwquies. 
It  the  sable  warrior  fled? 
Thy  100  is  gone.     He  rcsu  aoMig  the  dead. 


THOMAS  CRAY 


The  swum  tlut  m  thy  noon  tide  beam  were  bomi 

Gone  to  silcte  the  nxag  morSi 

Fair  Uughs  thr  rnoni,  and  tofi  the  zephyr  lilows, 

WhJc  proudly  lidtn;  o'er  ihc  *zurt  mim 

In  g»Uitiu  trim  the  gilded  vmkI  sorss 

Youth  OD  the  prow,  and  PIra»;n  at  the  bcbii 
Re{;ard]eM  of  the  sweeping  whirlwiod's  sway, 
Thai,  ku«h'd  in  ^tim  lepoic,  expects  bix  evening 

Fill  ))igh  tiic  sparkJio|  bowI, 
The  rich  repasit  jircpare; 

Reft  of  a  crown,  he  yet  may  skm  the  fc-.ut  i 
CloM  by  the  tc{;al  chair 

Fell  TJiifit  ind  Famine  scowl 

A  baleful  Mitile  upon  their  baffled  gneff. 
Hrard  ye  the  din  of  btnle  hray. 

Lance  to  lancv,  nod  borsc  to  horse  i 

Long  years  of  havoc  urge  ihcir  destined  course. 
And  ihro'  the  kindred  squadrons  mow  ih<ir  way. 

Ye  Towers  of  Julius,  Loodoo's  Luting  fJiamc, 
Willi  many  u  foul  and  midnight  murder  fed, 

Revere  hi«  consort's  faith,  his  filther'ii  fame, 
And  spaie  the  meek  usuipcr's  holy  brad. 
Abate,  below,  the  tvk  of  snow, 

Twined  with  ber  blushing  foe,  we  spread : 
The  bti.itled  ht«r  io  infant-gorr 

Wallows  bcneadi  the  thorny  diade. 
Now,  brothers,  bending  o'er  th'  accursid  loom 
Stamp  we  our  vengeance  deep,  and  ratify  his  doom. 

Edward,  !o !  to  sudden  fate 
{Weave  we  the  woof.     The  thread  is  tpun) 

Half  of  thy  heait  we  coaiecrate. 
(The  web  b  wove.     The  wmk  it  doob) 


THOMAS  GRAY 


4SS'  The  'PiXigress  of  'Poesy 

A   riKDAKIC  ODI 

AWAKE.  JEobta  lyit,  awike. 
^^  And  g/w  10  rapture  all  ifajr  ironbling  atmff. 
Pnini  Hclkoo's  btrmociout  ipings 

A  tbiMUBd  rilU  their  muy  progrns  ukei 
The  iMfkiitj;  Ao«m,  tb*t  twmd  lliem  blow, 
l>nnk  life  *id  fmgnncc  a%  thty  flow. 
Now  tliv  rich  umm  dF  mu^iic  winds  along 
Dcrp,  BiBfcukf  smooth  *ml  sirooCt 
Thro*  TCrdoBt  vslcs,  aoil  Ceres'  golden  T«^: 
Now  rdUng  down  the  steep  aswia, 
Hc9<UoD||,  inpctuods.  MV  ri  |>ourt 
'11k  rocks  mil  nodding  grovn  rebellow  to  the  roar. 

O  SoTercign  of  the  willing  soal, 
PareM  of  Kwcct  and  tolcmn^reMhing  tin, 
Unchuiting  shdl  I  the  nilteti  Cares 

And  traniic  Passions  hear  tliy  soft  coniioul. 
On  Thrada's  hills  the  Lord  of  Wu 
Hto  cuih'd  the  fury  of  hia  car. 
And  dropp'd  ha  thinty  Ucce  u  thy  command. 
Petchtag  on  the  toepircd  haod 
Of  Jove,  thy  nugic  lulh  the  fniber'd  king 
Whh  nifBcd  plumes  «nd  Sag^ng  wing: 
Qoeodi'd  in  dorfc  clouds  of  shimber  lie 
The  terror  of  Iiis  beak,  sad  lightoings  of  his  eye. 

Tlwe  the  voice,  the  dance,  obey, 
Temiier'd  to  thy  warUed  lay. 

O'er  Idalia's  tchet-gree* 

The  tosy«rowB(d  Loves  are  sttn 


THOMAS  GRAY 

On  Cjohcrea's  day 

With  HDtic  Spoiu,  tai  blut-cyod  PInsures, 

Frisking  light  ia  frolic  nmsurcSj 
Now  fvnuing,  now  i«rwang, 

Now  ill  cirdiag  uoops  they  lactt  t 
To  bmk  nous  in  cadmcc  beaiing, 

Glance  tbeir  many-twiiiklbg  feet. 
Slow  ini-lting  stnina  tbeir  Qunn's  approKb  declare: 

Where'er  she  tunif  the  Graces  boniAge  pay. 
With  arms  sublime,  Utat  float  upon  the  air, 

In  gliding  state  she  wins  her  imj  way : 
O'er  hn  warm  cbixk  and  rising  bosom  mow 
Tlic  bloom  of  young  Desire  and  purple  Ugtii  of  Lov 

Man's  ferbic  race  what  ills  amit. 

Labour,  and  Pcaury,  tlic  neks  of  }\iin. 
Disease,  and  Sorrow's  weeping  tnin, 
And  Drjth,  ud  leliigc  from  the  stoma  of  lalel 

The  fond  comfJaiot,  my  soog,  disprOTe, 

And  justify  the  laws  of  Jov<. 

Say,  has  he  giv'n  id  vain  die  hcav'dy  Muxi 

Nigbt,  and  Jl  her  iickly  dews, 

Her  Kpeaitn  wui,  nod  birds  of  boding  cry, 

He  gires  to  range  the  dreary  Ay : 

Till  down  the  etttcrtn  cli^  a&r 

Hyperion's  n»rch  ihey  spy,  and  glin'ring  shafts  of  w«. 

In  dimes  beyond  the  solar  road, 
Where  sh;tggv  forms  o'er  !ce>builc  rnnrntaatt  tu«m, 
The  Muse  hu  broke  the  twilight  gloom 

To  chocT  the  sbiv'ring  Datirc's  dull  abode. 
And  oft,  beneath  the  od'rou>  shade 
0(  Chili's  boundless  forests  laid. 
She  deigns  to  hear  die  savage  jxiutfa  repeat 


THOMAS  GRAY 


^ 


In  Tonv  nunibas  wildly  &wHt 
riirif  fMAhcr-cs)ctuf«d  chid*,  and  dtaky  lovts. 
Ilcr  tnck,  where'er  the  Goddeu  lorcs, 
Glory  ftavat  and  j>ciKfous  Stume, 
Th'  unconquciaUc  Mind,  and  Frecdooi's  holy  Biaae. 

Woods,  thai  ware  o'er  Ddpb's  ftUep, 
Isles,  that  crovm  ih'  jEj^raa  deep, 

Fields,  that  cool  IlisMU  Uvet, 

Or  wlierc  Msuindcr's  Biober  waves 
n  linf^ing  Ub'rinths  cm-j), 

How  do  yimr  tiiorrul  echoes  ls»swisfa, 

Mut^  bat  to  ibe  voice  of  angu!?^  I 
Wlme  each  old  jioetic  moantaio 

Ins^Nrvtion  breathed  around : 
Gv'ry  shade  aod  haDow'd  fountain 

Munixir'd  deep  a  SAlema  sound: 
Till  ibc  sad  Nine,  in  Greece's  evi]  hour, 

Lett  iheif  Panusms  for  the  Laiian  jilaias. 
Alike  ibey  sooni  tbe  pomp  of  tyrant  Power, 

And  coward  Vice,  that  retels  in  her  chain*. 
Whoi  Lau«n  had  ber  lofty  iprit  lust. 
They  sought,  O  Atbioa !    next  thy  aea-encireird  coast. 

Far  from  the  sen  and  summer  gale. 

In  ihy  green  lap  wai  Niture';!  darling  laid, 
^_Wfaai  tiiDT,  where  Iccid  Aran  stny'd, 
^■^To  Him  the  mighty  mother  did  unveil 
^^^cf  awfiil  beat     ibe  danniless  child 
Hbtmch'd  Tonh  his  little  arnu,  and  smiled. 

This  penal  take  (she  said),  whose  colonn  clr^r 

Richly  poini  tbe  vcmd  year: 

Thine  too  these  golden  keys,  immonil  boy ! 
bis  can  unlock  the  gates  of  joy ; 


THOMAS  GRAY 

Of  horror  thM,  aod  thrilling  (can, 

Or  ope  the  sacrod  soum  ef  sympatbrtk  tnts. 

Nor  Kcond  he,  that  rode  sublime 
Uf«n  the  •mph-win^  of  EcatMy, 
The  wcivts  of  th'  obysi  to  spy. 

He  fMs'd  the  flaming  bounds  of  place  ami  lime :_ 
Tlie  li<»ng  Throne,  the  Hpphirc-bUzir, 
WlifTC  Angck  tremble  while  ihry  gn«, 
He  saw  t   but  blajud  with  excess  of  lijht, 
CttMcd  his  eyes  in  nxUcss  night. 
Behold,  where  Diyden's  les«  proampUKMis  cat^ 
Wide  o'er  the  fields  of  glory  bear 
Two  courKts  of  ethereal  race, 
With  necks  in  thunder  clothed,  and  long-resoanding  pK& 

Hatk,  bii  hsnds  the  lyre  cxplorel 
Briglit-eyed  Fancy  hoveling  o'er 

Scatters  from  her  jnciurcd  ura 

Thoughts  thnt  brrjthc,  and  wordi  that  biiin. 
But  ah  !    'lis  baad  no  more 

O  Lyre  <U*ine!    what  daring  ^inl 

Wakes  thcc  now  ?  Tho'  he  inherit 
Nor  the  juide,  nor  ample  pinion, 

Th-il  ihc  Thcban  eagle  bear 
Sailing  with  ruptemc  dominion 

Thro'  the  aiure  de«p  of  atri 
Yet  ott  before  hii  infant  eyes  would  run 

Such  form«  as  fitter  in  the  Muse's  lay, 
With  orient  hues,  unborrow'd  of  the  Sun ; 

Yet  shall  he  mount,  and  keep  his  ^suot  way 
Beyond  the  limits  of  a  vulgar  &le, 
Benntb  the  Good  how  far— but  far  abon  the  Gieac 


THOMAS  GRAY 


^fd.  On  a  FavMtrite  Git,  Dnwned  m  a 
Tub  of  Gold  Fishes 

'T'WAS  OB  a  tofty  »«9e'«  side, 
^     Wbcrv  Chiu's  ^yen  ut  had  A.y«A 

The  azufc  flcFweni  that  blow; 
Dcmumt  of  ibe  ubby  kind, 
1*hc  pcnwTC  Sclima  reclined, 

Gazed  DO  the  lake  betow. 

Her  ooQKiaus  tul  hei  jojr  decbfrd; 
The  faif  round  race,  the  inowy  bmd, 

The  »«ltrt  of  h«  pawj, 
Htf  ooat,  that  with  Um  tortoise  vies, 
Her  Mrs  of  jet,  aad  craenjd  eyn, 

She  Bw  j    and  parr'd  applatue. 

had  sbe  sazed;    but  'raidn  the  tide 
Two  aGj:el  forms  were  seen  to  glide. 

The  Genii  of  the  itream : 
Thdr  Kily  annour's  Tytian  hae 
Thro'  ricbm  purple  to  the  view 

Betniy'd  a  goMen  glem. 

The  hapless  Nymph  with  wooder  saw: 
A  whisker  litst  aad  then  a  cbw. 

With  many  an  ardet»  wish, 
8be  stittch'd  in  vain  to  reach  the  priv- 
Whai  fermle  bean  can  gold  def  ptsr  f 

What  Cat  '•  anne  to  fish  f 


THOMAS  CRAY 

PmumptDous  Maid  I    with  looks  iauvt 
Agiia  she  ftmch'd,  igMii  she  bent, 

Mor  kotm  ibc  gdf  bet««ea. 
(Maligiunt  Fate  sat  by,  and  sidjIkL) 
The  sUpffry  vn^e  ho  ftn  btjuitrd. 

She  uamhled  hudloag  to. 

Eight  times  wnfrging  from  the  flood 
She  me^/d  to  cv'17  wai'fj  jod. 

Some  speedy  aid  to  scod. 
No  Dolphin  cxme,  no  Ncmd  stiirVI : 
Noc  cruel  Tern,  nor  Svian  heard. 

A  Fav'riic  hu  do  frieod ! 

From  hrtice,  ye  Beauties,  UDdecei*«d, 
Know,  one  fiilse  step  n  ne'er  retrieved. 

And  he  with  «ution  bold. 
Not  all  that  tempu  jour  wund'ring  ryct 
And  heedless  h>eini,  is  bwtid  priiet 

Nor  all  that  glisters,  goU. 


WILLIAM  COLLINS 
^/7.  Ot&  to  Simplidty 


iT*^IT» 


OTHOU,  by  Nature  tauglit 
To  breuhc  her  genuine  thought 
In  Rumhers  watmly  pure  and  sweetly  3troa)t: 
Who  first  on  raountaitis  wild, 
In  Fancy,  lorclie^t  child. 
Thy  babe  and  PlcMurc's,  onncd  the  powV  of 


I 


WILLIAM  COLLINS 

Thou,  who  with  hermit  hnn 

Dtsdttin'st  the  wnlih  of  art, 
And  g^udi,  md  pageant  weeds,  and  tinting  paO  i 

But  com'n  a  deccM  maid, 

lo  Attic  robe  tmfd, 
O  chaste,  uaboiatful  nymph,  to  thee  1  cell  I 

By  atl  the  honey'd  store 

On  Hjfalii's  thymy  thore, 
By  all  hn  blootns  aad  mb^td  iDumwrK  dear, 

Hj  bei  whM*  knc-loni  woe, 

Id  etcnios  muHOgS  stow, 
Soothed  sweetly  ud  Elecira's  poet's  eir : 

By  old  Cepbisui  dcefi, 

Wlio  Eprcad  hit  wavy  sweep 
la  warbled  wand*riD|>«  nwnd  thy  greeo  Mieat; 

On  wiMse  etumell'd  wk:, 

When  holy  Frecdon  died. 
No  ei{ual  haunt  aUurvd  thy  Aiture  Icct! 

0  lister  latdc  of  Titnh, 

To  my  admiiiiig  youth 
Thy  wber  aid  and  natire  cbatras  ioftue  t 

The  ftow'n  thit  sveetest  bceotbe. 

Though  bcatity  cull'd  the  wtenh. 
Still  uk  thy  haiid  to  range  their  order'd  hoc*. 

While  Rome  could  none  esteem. 

But  tiitue's  patriot  theme. 
You  loted  her  hiUs,  and  led  her  Laureate  band  ; 

Bat  stayVI  to  sit^  alone 

To  one  dinioguiih'd  throne. 
And  tura'd  thy  face,  and  fled  ber  alter'd  Ucd. 


WILLIAM  COLLINS 


No  morr,  in  hall  or  bowV, 

The  pasiiona  own  thy  powV. 
Lotv,  only  Love  htr  fotctleta  oumbax  mem^ 

For  thoa  hut  leTl  hn-  ihiine. 

Not  olive  motr,  om  vine, 
Shall  gain  thy  leer  to  bicn  the  tcrrjle  scene. 

Thougli  laste,  ihoiigli  genius  bleu 

To  some  divine  txcaa, 
Fuiot's  the  cold  woik  till  ihou  tmpn  the  wfa 

What  each,  what  all  supply, 

May  court,  may  charm  our  eye, 
Thou,  only  cliou,  cantt  raise  the  Riceting  soul  I 

Of  ihtac  let  other*  ask. 

To  aid  «ome  mighty  task, 
1  only  seek  to  find  thy  tempeiBle  vqle; 

Where  oft  my  reed  mi^  sotuid 

To  maidi  and  ihcphctdi  round. 
And  all  thy  tont,  O  Nature,  learn  my  tale. 

4fS.  Heva  sleep  the  Brave 

LJOW  sleep  the  bni»c,  who  »jnk  to  re« 
*  '      By  all  their  country's  wishc*  blest  1 
When  Spnng,  wliii  deny  fingers  cold. 
Returns  10  di'ck  tlidr  hallow'd  mould, 
>She  there  «haU  dres*  a  sweeter  sod 
Than  Fancy'*  feet  have  ever  trod. 
By  faiiy  hands  their  kndl  is  mttgi 
By  forms  unseen  their  dirge  is  uoifct 
There  Honour  conies,  a  fdlgrim  grey, 
To  blcHX  the  turf  that  wraps  their  day] 
And  Freedom  shall  awhile  lefwr 
To  dwell,  a  weeping  berinit,  there ! 


WILLIAM  COLLINS 


i 


Ode  to  Evening 

TP  ^lUfthi  of  Mton  «top,  or  putoral  tonj;, 

^     May  hope,  diw  Ete,  la  laothe  thjr  modnt  ear, 


Like  ihy  own  lolcmn  ipringi. 
Thy  i^ogs  am)  dying  j^lcs  j 


O  nymph  rcvrvwl,  wKilc  now  the  bright-hsirM  sun 

Ktt  in  yon  vnicnt  icnt,  whoM-  cloady  fJun», 
Wrth  bmdc  cthcml  wote, 
O'crhtng  his  wavy  bed: 
ow  lir  b  huah'ii,  uie  wbctc  rhc  weiik-ryfd  lut 
^\Vith  short  ihiill  thtiek  flits  by  on  leathern  irtng. 
^H        Or  w)ier«  the  beetle  winds 
^H        His  Miiall  but  mIIcd  bora, 

^^A»  oft  he  rises  'midst  the  twilight  p«th 

C"  — 'mt  tjie  [lil^iini  boroc  to  heedless  hnm : 
Mow  teach  me,  nuid  conijMMcd, 
To  breathe  Mine  *aften*d  strain, 
■ 


lie  numbera,  stealing  ihrougli  thy  dukening  v*le, 
y  not  unteenity  with  its  »tijlnc«s  tuii, 


As,  musing  slow,  I  hail 
Thy  genial  lotcd  retunil 


'o(  when  thy  rolding-unr  atinng  shows 
His  (uly  circlet.  »  hb  wimiitg  lain|i 
The  fragrant  hours,  soA  eltrs 
\VHo  ikpt  in  buds  the  day. 


m 


WILLIAM  COLLINS 

ArtA  muiy  a  cyniph  wbo  wr^Jlhw  h«  brows  with 
And  sbods  the  freshening  dew,  naj,  loTvtiet  sill. 

The  pdiHfe  plcamrcs  sweet, 

Prepire  ihjr  shadowy  car: 

Thea  Irarf,  calm  Tonrecs,  whrrc  eomr  Khmy  lake 
Ch«era  tbc  lone  beatli,  or  socne  time-hallow 'd  pile, 

Or  upland  fallows  grcj 

RcflfCt  in  last  cool  gleam. 

Or  if  chiD  UnHcring  winds,  or  drinnj  niia, 
Pm-cnt  my  wiliiqg  fat,  be  mine  the  but 

Thai  from  the  mounuin't  side 

Views  wilda  aad  swelling  floods^ 

And  hiunlcti  brown,  aad  dim-diicover'd  spifCS* 
And  hears  ihor  limple  bell,  and  ntuks  o'er  all 

Tliy  dewy  Sagcn  dnw 

The  gisdoBl  dosky  veil. 

While  Spring  shall  pour  bis  sbaw'rs,  as  oft  he 
And  bathe  thy  bruching  tmtc*,  meefccsi  E?cl 

\Vhile  Summer  Iotc^  to  sport 

Beneath  tliy  lingering  ligbti 

While  sallow  Autumn  fills  thy  lip  with  Irnves, 
Oi  Winl«T,  yelling  through  the  trODMoua  tir, 

Affnghis  thy  shrinlttDg  train, 

And  nidely  tends  thy  robes: 

So  hag,  regardful  of  thy  quiet  rule. 

Shall  Fancy,  Frietubhip,  Scii-uee,  rosc-lipp'd  Hcaltli, 

Thy  gentlest  iaSwnce  own. 

And  bymn  thy  ftreunie  name ! 
s> 


WILLIAM  COLLINS 


iSo. 


FiJfle 


'T'O  (»r  Pidclc'ii  gtasjy  uwib 
^       Soft  maidf  *ncl  tillngc  hindi  flhaU  bring 
Each  opcBuig  sw«rt  of  nrlirtt  bloom, 
Afid  rifle  aJl  the  breathing  Spring. 

No  w;tilin2  gboni  ihatl  dire  appear 
To  rex  witli  ihrieki  this  t^uici  grove; 

But  shepbrnl  lad&  ft^cmble  hen, 
And  meliiax  virgins  own  their  love. 

No  wiilier'd  witch  skill  here  be  Keeo. 

No  goblins  lead  their  nightlir  crew; 
The  t'MuIc  Tiiys  shill  hmint  tbc  green, 

Aod  dras  iby  gni«  wi*Ji  pnHjr  dev. 

The  tedbreut  uft  U  i-remng  boun 

SbiU  kindly  Imd  his  littfe  aid, 
^With  boaiy  moo,  and  githcr'd  flowers, 
To  deck  tbe  gronnd  ubcrc  tbou  an  tud. 

Wben  howling  wimb,  and  beatii^  rain, 
la  Mnpou  ihake  thy  lytTan  cell; 

Or  'midtt  the  cbatc,  on  every  plain, 

The  leodet  thought  on  thee  shall  dwell; 

Each  looely  scene  aluU  tbec  restore, 
Por  thee  tbe  tear  be  duly  vhed ; 

Beloved,  till  life  can  charai  no  more; 
And  nioum'd,  till  Pity's  idf  be  dead. 


461, 


MARK  AKI^NSIDE 


Atmrtt 


>p>-ino 


T  F  rightly  luwlul  ttanU  decide, 
^      If  it  be  lix'd  in  Lovr'f  drcrers, 
Thai  Brsuiy  ought  not  to  be  thcd 

Uut  by  its  naiWc  poian  lo  pluuc, 
Then  lell  mc,  youths  and  lovvr^  leU — 
Whu  {air  can  AmorM  excel  f 

Behold  ihnt  bright  unsullied  smiNr, 
And  wiiMioni  >.jN-4kin2  in  her  mien: 

Yet— nhe  M  artle&s  all  the  wlulc, 
So  little  Modjous  to  be  »een — 

We  iiMight  but  insiau  glodrms  know, 

Not  ihiok  to  whom  the  £ift  wc  «wc. 

But  neither  niuuc,  dot  the  ]iowere 
or  youth  and  nurlh  aod  ftuHc  cheer, 

Add  h^lf  the  sunihiae  to  the  hourx, 
Or  make  life's  proKpect  h^f  m  clesr. 

As  nieniory  brings  it  u  the  eye 

From  wcnn  whriv  Amom  was  by. 

This,  sure,  is  Bnuty**  hippiest  port; 

Tliis  giics  the  most  luibounded  twayt 
This  shall  ench&nt  the  sul^eci  hetn 

When  rose  and  lily  fade  a«iy; 
And  she  be  still,  in  &]iitc  of  Time, 
Sweet  Amorct  in  all  ha  pfime. 


S* 


MARK  AKENSIOE 

The  CompUint 

IWAY !  .way  I 
^^    Tnnpt  me  no  more,  iaiidiouf  Lorn 
TI17  lootbiDg  nriy 
Long  <lid  my  jrauthliil  bosom  proTet 
At  length  thy  trvuoo  is  disccm'd, 
At  tcngtii  some  <lcw-bou^t  c^utiOD  nn'd: 
Aw«y  I  Bor  hope  my  rtpct  ■£«  to  aon. 

I  kooir,  t  Kc 
Hn  merit.     Ncedi  h  now  be  shown, 

Alul  to  mt} 
lHow  oAett,  to  mywif  taknown, 

gnMcfiil,  gentk^  nmKWS  ouid 
Mafe  I  admirrd!     How  ofWii  sbd — 
What  joy  to  call  >  heart  Ulct  here  oik'»  own ! 

fist,  flaturicg  god, 
O  s^aodcm  of  contcot  and  eaw, 

In  thy  abod<- 
Will  cut's  nidc  lesion  Xenn  to  ficasc  I 
O  uy,  decciixT,  hist  thou  won 
Proud  Fonuoc  to  ati«'nd  thy  throat, 
Of  pUced  thy  friciHl»  above  bcr  stcin  decncs? 


4rfj.  Tie  N/gA/htgaU 

'"pO-NIGl'lT  mired,  the  queen  of  hnTcn 
^      Wtth  youBg  EadymMB  Mays: 
And  BOW  to  Hcsptr  ii  is  given 
Awhile  to  rvie  the  vacant  sky, 
Till  ihe  dull  to  her  hunp  3Uf>ply 
A  ttrcam  of  brighter  rays. 


MARK  AKENSLOe 

Prapitioiu  Kod  thy  golden  ny, 

Thou  purest  light  above! 
Let  no  ^sc  (tunc  teAun  to  strwf 
Whnv  gulf  or  itcrp  lie  hid  for  lumi  i 
Bui  kad  where  muik's  hralj^g  dUmi 

May  soothe  Rfflictod  love. 

To  tbem,  by  inaay-i  grateful  Mag 

In  happier  w-jvooi  Tow'd, 
These  luwns,  Oiympia':!  hMOts,  belong; 
Oh  by  yon  slivr  Mmm  we  walk'd, 
Or  fix'd,  while  Philomela  talk'd, 

Bciiraih  yon  copses  Stood. 

Nor  Mldom,  where  the  btecliea  bough* 

That  rootless  towct  tntide, 
We  CKiw,  whilo  her  cuehnting  Mue 
Tbc  radiint  mooQ  abo^e  us  held: 
Till,  by  a  clamorous  owl  compcU'd, 

She  flfd  the  solemn  slude. 

But  hark!    I  hear  her  Wtfxid  tone! 

Now  Hcsper  guide  my  fret! 
Down  the  red  nml  with  moss  o'crgrown. 
Through  yoa  wild  thicket  next  tbc  plain, 
WhoK  hawthorns  choke  ibe  winding  hne 

Which  leads  to  her  rtti««t. 

Sec  the  grc«n  space:  on  cither  hand 

Enlargcid  it  spreads  arouixl : 
See.  in  the  nudn  sbc  ukes  her  waad. 
Where  ooe  old  oak  hia  awiiit  thade 
Extends  o'er  bilf  the  lercl  mnd, 

Enclosed  m  woods  profbuod. 


MARK  AKENSIDE 

ik!    bow  ihroogb  nuiny  ■  mcltiag  Doec 

Sbe  now  protongs  hrr  lays : 
'Kow  »wcctJ]r  down  the  ra»d  they  AoMl 
Tlx  bircic  their  ma^  path  Munds; 
Thv  Kan  tbioe  out ;  the  fumt  boidt ; 

The  wakdiil  bdfcn  paxe. 

Whoe'er  tboa  ait  whom  dunce  my  bring 
To  thi»  sccjwMer'd  spot, 
•  Jf  ibm  (br  jJumtve  Siren  ting. 
Mftiy  tiKid  beneath  her  bowrr 
iai  think  of  Heaftn's  dtsjiosiag  fowti. 
Of  nua's  uacotaiD  lot. 

O  think,  o'er  all  thi»  cnoital  itagc 
Wbu  moumful  settles  arise: 
[What  nuB  waits  on  kift£ly  ngc; 
Ti«W  oftn  Tinuc  dwells  vith  woe; 
How  onoy  griefs  from  knowledge  fiow;. 
How  swiftly  pleasure  flini 

O  sicml  bird !  W  mc  it  en, 

I'hus  wandciiBg  all  alone, 
tThy  ttadcr  couasel  oft  receive, 

witatss  to  thy  pcouic  airs, 
'And  pty  Naisre's  conunoa  cares, 

Till  I  forget  my  own. 


TOBIAS  GEORGE  SMOLLEIT 

^rf-j.  TV  Liven  f^ater 

pUKEi  stream,  in  whose  tnu»|iarcnt  wavr 
'        My  youthiul  limbs  I  wont  lo  lavr; 
No  tom'Dts  *uin  iliy  limpid  source, 
No  rocks  inip«dc  thy  dinipliqg  cwirw  .  .  . 
DetolTing  from  Uiy  parcDt  Ukc 
A  chitming  toize  tJiy  waters  make 
By  bowers  of  birch  and  pores  of  pine 
And  n-Ign  flower'd  with  eglantine. 

Siill  OD  thy  banks  so  ^aily  sreen 
May  Dumerouit  herds  and  Aocks  be  wen, 
And  lasie*  chancing  o'er  the  pa!I, 
And  shepherds  pipici;  b  the  dale, 
And  mcicnl   Faith  thai  knows  no  guile, 
And  inrfustry  cmbrnwn'd  with  iwl. 
And  hcans  resoWed  and  bands  prepared 
Tlie  blessings  ihey  enjoy  w  giurd. 


CHRISTOPHER  SMART 


4«T- 


Soag  to  'David 


CUBLIME^iovention  cter  young. 
'-'     Of  i-nM  coDoeptJon,  toVriog  tongue 
To  God  th'  eieititl  theniei 
Notes  IVoin  yon  exaltations  cai^h% 
UnrivalI'd  royalty  of  tbooght 

O'o  tneancr  stnins  suprane. 


ijn-rno 


CHRISTOPHER  SMART 

His  autr,  bright  angri  of  hi»  wrar, 
Gim  balm  for  all  ibc  thoni*  that  pir/cc. 

For  all  tlie  f*"&'  '^  "S'i 
Blest  \if,hx  uill  SMoing  on  ibc  gloom, 
The  more  thu  Mkhtl  of  his  bioon, 

Th'  Abbhtg  of  his  tgr. 

He  uDg  of  God— the  migbtjr  uurce 
Of  all  things — the  ttsfeniaa  force 

On  whkh  all  stimgih  depcsd*; 
From  whose  rijbt  unx,  beoMth  whoK  tja^ 
All  ftriod,  powsr,  and  eatcrprise 

Commeoccfti  jtiffis^  md  eins* 

Tell  diem,   I  as,  Jrhotah  sa*d 

To  MoKs )    while  eirth  !i«ufd  in  dmd, 

And,  tmiea  lo  the  bean. 
At  oMoe  than,  beneath,  around. 
Ail  Utiun,  wtihoiit  toicc  or  souad, 

Replied,  O  Lord,  Thou  ait. 

The  worid,  dtt  dusttfing  spheres,  Hf  mide  t 
Th«  itlotiOM  lights  the  soothing  shade, 

Dale,  dno^Mgn,  grore,  and  hilli 
The  maltttodinoa  abjna, 
Where  Secrrcy  remain*  in  bliw, 

And  Witdom  hides  her  skilL 

The  piUan  of  the  Lwd  are  Hien, 

Which  mmd  from  earth  to  topmoft  bnren  t 

Hb  Wisdom  drew  the  pbn; 
His  Word  accotiqilish'd  the  design, 
From  brightest  gem  to  devpest  mine; 

From  Christ  enihioned,  to  Man. 

ov 


CHRISTOPHER  SMART 

For  Adonttion  all  the  rank* 
Of  AngrU  yield  ptprail  Uuaka, 

AnA  Ditiid  in  ihr  midst ; 
Willi  Cod's  good  [loot,  wbicb,  last  and  leui 
In  man's  cMcem,  Thoa  to  Tby  least, 

O  blc»M  Bridegroom,  b!dd*Kl 

Pot  Adoration,  D»id'«  Psalms 
Lift  up  the  hnin  to  dnds  of  aliD>t 

And  Iw,  who  kticfh  ind  cb«ai9, 
Prtvails  liis  pasMoni  to  coalrol, 
Ptnd»  meat  and  medicine  to  the  mmI, 
Wliich  for  tnouktian  pants. 

For  Adomtion,  in  the  dome 

or  Christ,  the  sjurtovs  fiod  a  honie. 

And  on  His  ulitn  percli : 
Thi'  ^wrIIow  uUo  dwells  with   ibcr, 
O  tcuta  of  God's  humility, 

Within  his  Saviour's  church. 

Sweet  is  the  dew  that  faOs  betimes, 
And  dKi|»  upn  the  leafy  limes; 

Sweet,  Hermon's  fragrant  airt 
Sweet  is  the  lily's  Mli'er  b«U, 
And  »weet  the  wakeful  tapcra'  smHI 

That  watch  for  etirly  prayer. 

Sweet  the  young  nurse,  vrith  low  iMertsv, 
Which  HDtles  o'er  sleeping  innocefiCti 

Sweet,  when  the  lost  airive: 
Sweet  the  musician's  ardour  beats, 
While  his  vague  mind 's  in  quca  of  iwccK, 

The  choicest  fiowetv  to  hire. 
St? 


CHRISTOPHER  SMAKT 

Strong  ii  ihe  hone  upon  bia  speed] 
Strang  ia  pursuit  the  nfid  glcd«, 

Whicb  Bikkri  it  oi>c«  his  gkmt  s 
Stnitg  the  tall  Mtrich  on  the  ^tnumIi 
Strang  through  llie  lurbwlmt  profound 

Sbooti  Xiphiu  to  his  atm. 

Strong  b  the  lioa— tike  a  coat 
Hb  ejeboll,— tike  a  baition's  mate 

His  chest  tgumt  the  (on: 
Strang  the  gper-eagle  on  bb  wit ; 
Strang  against  ixfe  th'  enormous  whale 

Emerges  u  he  goes. 

Bot  stiwger  uill,  in  earth  and  air, 
And  ia  the  sea,  (he  man  of  peaycr, 

And  far  beneath  the  tide : 
And  in  the  Stat  UP  fuib  us^'d, 
Where  ask  is  hare,  where  scdc  b  find. 

Where  knock  b  open  vide. 

Precious  the  peatteniial  tnr; 
And  precious  is  ihc  sigh  sincere, 

Acceptable  to  Cod: 
And  pedoos  are  the  wiaaing  flowers, 
la  gtadsome  Israel's  feast  of  bowers 

Bound  OD  the  hallow'd  sod. 

Glorious  the  sun  in  mid  careen 
Glorious  th'  tsscmUcd  £rcs  apfeaci 

Glorious  ihc  cornel's  train: 
Glortoui  the  trumpet  tod  alarm  i 
Gloriou»  the  /Umighty's  siretch'd-out  armt 

Glorious  ih'  cnniplured  nuin ; 

e)  kite.  Xljiblu]  iwotd-fish. 


CHRISTOPHER  SMART 

Glorious  the  aorthcn  lights  Mtraim ; 
Glix-ious  the  »oag,  when  God's  tbr  tbmK: 

Glorious  the  thunder's  roar; 
Glorious  HoMtnea  from  the  dent 
Gloriou*  the  cathidic  Anun  t 

Glorious  the  martyr's  gam 

Glorious — more  glorious — b  the  crown 
Of  Him  ihRi  brought  t-alvaiion  down, 

By  meekne**  call'd  thy  Son: 
Thou  that  nupcadous  truth  believed; — 
And  now  tile  matchless  deed's  aduered. 

Dctcrinioetl,  dared,  sod  dooe! 


lT^^■lfcl5 


JANE  ELLIOT 

4ffS.        yf  lament  /or  FloJden 

1  *VE  beard  them  lilting  at  our  evc-ifiilking, 
'      Ls&ses  a'  liltias  before  dawn  o'  dayi 
But  now  diej'  arc  moanbg  on  iiha  grten 

Tlic  Flower*  of  tlie  Forest  are  a'  wede  away. 

j\i  bu^u,  in  the  morning,  nac  bfyihe  lads  are  woniiB 

L4S$c»  are  lonely  and  dovtic  and  wac ; 
Nie  daffing,  nnc  g^ing,  but  sighing  and  sabbtng. 

Ilk  we  lilis  her  leglia  and  lues  her  sway. 

In  hii'si,  K  the  shearing,  nw  youths  now  are  jccnilg, ' 
Bandsien  are  lyan,  and  runkled,  and  gray : 

At  fair  or  at  pTeachlng,  nae  wooiag,  lue  flerching — 
Tlic  Flowera  of  the  Forest  are  a*  wede  sway. 

466.  loan  I  ncl  line,  fictd- track.      weJc]  t«ft>      b«gh(i]>lice)i'iolAi 
ilaffing]  jokint;.  1c(;lin]  milk-piiL  taadilei*]  bindtn. 

lyail)  UAtA.  flccclxiiig]  <«<uuag. 


JANE  ELLIOT 

At  r'cB,  a  tbe  t^'imi^  am  nmlun  are 
'Boot  wada  wT  the  btta  at  bagk  to  fhjr  j 

B«t  9l  Mc  tits  eerie,  lntniMg  her  dmie — 
TW  Floven  of  tbc  Fomt  m  a*  wede  my. 

Ded  x)d  mr  far  the  otds  aeat  am  bdi  u>  the  Boeder? 

Tlie  P«gti«»i,  lor  Mice,  bjr  gEnle  wia  the  dajr; 
Thr  Ftcnm  of  the  Pcant,  thit  lios^  aye  the  htaaM, 

The  ptime  of  owl  load,  lie  caidd  b  ibr  clay. 

WcH  bear  Me  maii  liltiqg  at  osr  cwe-milluog ; 

Tf oaten  aod  baitm  tfe  heaiwas  and  vae ; 
Stghiog  aai  aoaoiag  <m  Ska  g^tca  loaang— 

The  Flowm  ef  the  Feieu  an  a'  «vde  amy. 


OLIVER  GOLDSNUTH 


\V7HEN  kmly  «« 
^^      And  tebm 
What  chHn  caa 
What  art  can 


a  atoofa  (o  fatly, 
MK  that  men  betray, 
her  nelancbdjr} 
hrr  teats  away  J 


i7*-m* 


The  only  att  her  {utlt  to  cover, 
To  bide  her  aliamc  fioia  er'rr  eye. 

To  give  nipeotaacc  to  her  lorer, 
And  wring  hit  boaom  u— to  die. 


yM.  ■wiokic*)  la*lj  ladi. 
doolj  moimiDi;. 


bosk]  boe«},  bMc-aod-MtL 


su 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH 


468. 


Memory 


/~\  MEMORY,  diM  fond  deodar, 
^~^     Siill  inijiuruinate  and  rain. 
To  fonner  joy*  tecurnii);  ertr. 
And  Curoing  all  the  put  to  pain: 

Tliou,  likf  the  worf<l,  th'  opprew'd  oppre^nio^ 
Tliy  sniilM  incrcaw  the  wretch**  woe  s 

And  h«  who  wants  eacit  other  blessing 
Id  tbc«  niuht  t\a  lind  a  foe. 


ROBERT  CUNNINGHAME.gr  AH  AH  OF 

GARTMORE 


4rfp. 


ff  2>0ugbtx  Veeds 


1 F  ciaughly  deeds  my  lady  pinsr, 
^      Right  tOOQ  I'll  mount  my  itevd  t 
And  strong  his  ana  and  fan  ht*  seat, 

That  bears  free  me  the  meed. 
Ill  w«ar  thy  colours  in  my  capk 

Thy  picture  in  my  heart; 
And  he  that  bcndit  not  to  thine  eye 
Shdil  rue  it  to  his  ■traart  I 

Then  tell  mc  how  10  woo  thm, 
O  tell  mc  how  to  woo  (bee ! 
For  tJiy  dear  iaku  nae  care  PU 
Tho'  ne'er  another  trow  me. 

If  gay  atiirc  delight  thine  eye 

I'D  dight  me  ia  amyi 
I'll  tend  thy  chamber  door  all  night, 

And  s^ire  thee  all  the  day. 

m 


'TJSlf 


Lore) 

take, 


ROBERT  CUNNINCHAMEGRAHAM 

If  swccUst  toundj  cifl  win  ihiiw  nr. 

ThcK  WUDcU  I'll  SUlTT  10  uicli; 
Tliy  voke  I'll  situl  lo  woo  thy*tr. 

That  Toioe  tlut  ruuK  cao  nutctu 
Then  tcU  mc  bow  to  woo  tbee,  Lon  . 

Bui  if  fond  lort  thy  hmn  can  giin, 

1  ocvn  broke  a  tow  i 
N»c  nuidco  layt  bcr  ^Vuih  to  nw, 

1  ami  lotvd  bul  jrou. 
For  jou  aloDQ  I  ride  the  mg, 

For  you   I   wear  the  b)uc ; 
For  you  alone  I  strii'e  to  &ing, 
O  tell  roe  how  to  woot 

Then  tell  ine  bow  to  woo  thee,  Lotb; 

O  (eil  me  how  lo  woo  thee! 
For  thy  Aeu  sake  luc  care  I'll  lake 
Tbo'  Dc'et  aeotbcr  trow  aic. 


WILLIAM  COWPER 

70.  To  Mary  Unva'm 

I^ARY!  I  want  a  lyre  witb  other  strings, 
"^   Sucb  ak)  from  KnTcriH  some  bare  leiga'd  they  drew, 
An  eIo<|tMiice  scarce  gWcn  to  niorub,  nnv 
And  niKktewd  by  yaant  of  meaner  ihings : 
That  ere  through  age  or  woe  I  &htd  my  witt£S, 
I  may  record  thy  worth  with  honour  due, 
In  Tme  as  muiical  as  tbou  art  tnie. 
And  that  imroonalizes  whom  it  »n^: 
But  thou  but  liole  and.     There  b  a  Book 
fraphs  writ  with  facaint  of  brarenly  light, 

T  W 


w 

WILLIAM  COWPEK            ^H 

^^^^^M           On  which  the  eyn  of  God  not  rtrd^  look,     ^^^ 

^^^^^H            A  chiooicte  of  actioas  jaM  and  bright —                  ■ 

^^^^^B                There  all  thj  deeds,  ny  faithful  Mary,  ^oe  (     ^ 

^^^^^H              And  Moce  thou  own'st  that  pnaw,  I  spire  ih«e  ouq 

^^^^H          47t'                   Mf  Mary                        1 

^^^^^^1                  'T'HE  twcndeih  yeir  is  wcllnigh  past            M 
^^^^^^H                              Since  firet  out  sky  was  overcast  [             1 

^^^^^1                  Ah,  would  thit  (lits  fiitsbt  be  the  lau!           ■ 

^^^^^^H                                                                      My  Muy  I           J 

^^^^^H                    Thy  spirits  luve  a  faiatet  flow,                   ^^H 

^^^^^H                    I  tec  thee  daily  wcalcrr  grow;                      ^^^k 

^^^^^H                  'Twss  my  dbiress  tlut  brought  thcc  low,        H 

^^^H                                                                      My  M^ry !           ■ 

^^^^^1                Thy  needles,  once  i  thining  stort,                 1 

^^^^^B                    For  my  sake  restless  hrrttoforc,                         B 

^^^^^^H                    Now  rust  disused,  and  sliine  do  tnocc  \              ■ 

^^^H                                                                      My  Mtryl           1 

^^^^^^H                    For  though  thou  gbdiy  wouldM  ful£l           ^^m 

^^^^^^H                    The  same  kind  ol^cc  fot  me  still,               ^^^^ 

^^^^^H                    Thy  sight  now  seoondt  not  thy  will,          ^^V 

^^^H                                                               My  Muyl          1 

^^^^^H                    But  well  tliou  play'dsi  the  honscwift't  put,       M 

^^^^^H                    And  dl  thy  threads  with  magic  att                    ■ 

^^^^^H                    Have  wound  tlierakdim  about  tltis  licart,           1 

^^^H                                                                     My  Mary !           ■ 

^^^^^H                 Thy  iodistiiict  expressoos  seem                 ^^H 

^^^^^H                    Like  bnguage  utter'd  Id  a  dnam;               ^^H 

^^^^^H                   Yet  mc  tbcy  chann,  whaie'er  die  theme,      ^^^ 

^^^^^^H                                                                     My  Maty  1           H 

^^^H 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^E^^^« 

^^1 

^^^P        WILLIAM  COWPEK                                     ^M 

Tb;  nltvT  locks,  once  aubuin  bright,                                 ^^| 

Are  tdll  more  lovely  in  my  sight                                  ^^M 

Tfau  jgUcn  beams  of  orient  light.                                 ^H 

My  Mtryl                               ^1 

For  could  I  new  oot  them  onr  thee,                                ^^H 

What  sight  worth  seciog  codd  I  mc?                           ^^M 

The  sua  wDtJd  lisc  in  i^n  for  mc,                                   ^^M 

My  Maryl                               ^H 

Partakers  of  thy  sad  dediD«,                                              ^^M 

Thy  hands  tbdr  Utile  force  taigf^t                                  ^^M 

Yet,  gmtjy  ptest'd,  pte«t  gemly  mine,                           ^^H 

^K                                                    My  Mary!                               ^M 

V           Such  feeUtaesa  of  limbs  thou  prov'it,                               ^^H 

1            That  DOW  at  cTcry  step  tJiou  mov'st                          ^^^^H 

H            Upheld  by  twoi  yet  still  thou  k>v'st,                        ^^^^| 

^^                                                   My  Mary!                        ^^H 

Aad  still  to  \on,  thoMgh  prei.«'d  with  lU,                      ^^| 

la  wintry  age  u  fee]  tw  chill,                                            ^^M 

With  nw  is  to  be  lorcly  suit,                                            ^^H 

My  Mary!                               ^H 

But  ab  1  by  cootam  heed  I  know                                 ^^M 

How  oit  the  sidoess  that  I  show                                     ^^| 

Tiansforms  thy  smiles  to  looki  of  woCi                            ^^H 

My  Muy  1                               ^H 

And  sbodd  my  fbture  lot  be  cast                                     ^^M 

With  much  resemblance  of  the  past,                                   ^^| 

Thy  won>-aiit  bran  will  beeik  at  bat—                            ^^| 

My  Mmv  !                            ^M 

^^t.                                                                                         ^1 

JAMES  BEATTIE 

472.  An  Epitaph 

T  IKE  lh(v  I  once  hate  Mcrom'd  the  >ei  of  life, 
*^     Ltlcr  ihcc  have  bogvinh'd  after  cnipt^  JoySi, 
Like  th««  lure  labour'd  in  the  stottny  suifc, 
liven  griered  for  trifles,  and  aaiacd  with  toys. 

Forget  ntjr  iroiltiM ;  thou  an  also  fnil : 
Foi^vc  my  lapsn;  for  thpelf  may'n  fall: 

Nor  nad  unmoi-ed  my  attlcM  trader  ule— 
I  wai  »  friead,  O  maa,  to  tbce,  10  all 


ISOBEL  PAGAN 


4?i.    Ca*  the  Tovecs  to  the  Knmaes 


f^A'  the  yowes  to  the  knowes, 
^-^    C»'  Uieni  where  dw  liesthn  Krowf, 
Ca'  them  where  the  bumiu  rows. 
My  bonnie  duric. 

Ai  I  gMd  down  the  water  side, 
Theic  I  nirt  my  shepherd  lad; 
He  roVd  me  swmly  in  hi«  plaid. 
And  he  ca'd  me  has  dearie. 

*WiU  ye  gang  down  the  vaier  side, 
And  sec  the  ware*  ue  swMtly  gUdit 
Beneath  tlie  baieU  spretding  widcf 
Tlie  niooa  it  sluites  h'  cleatly.' 


i74(i-iS 


47J.  fema]  evci.  knowH]  tnoUi,  Utile  hiUi. 

rov'd]  lotkd,  anpped. 


n>»tl  rotU 


ISO  BEL  PAGAN 

>1  vns  bred  up  M  nae  nc  scbod, 
My  shrpltrnt  Ind,  lo  play  the  liool, 
Add  a'  the  day  to  sit  in  dmi. 
And  narliody  to  tee  me,' 

*Ye  nil  gK  govni  and  riUnns  men, 
Caaf-lcJthcr  sitoon  upon  your  fvct, 
And  in  my  vou  )t'M  Ik  and  sleep, 
And  jre  ull  be  my  dearie.' 

'  If  yctl  but  stand  to  wbat  ye've  Mid, 
I'sc  gang  wi'  you,  my  thephcrd  lad, 
And  ye  nay  row  me  la  your  fiuA, 
And  1  sail  be  your  dearie.' 

'While  waters  wimple  to  the  sea, 
While  day  blinks  in  the  lift  mk  liie, 
Till  clay-cauld  death  sail  blin'  my  e'e^ 
Ye  aye  sail  be  my  <karie  I ' 


ANNA  LjKTITIA  BARBAULD 

474-  l-'fi 

I  IFE!    1  know  not  whu  ihou  art, 
'^     But  liDOV  tlut  thou  aod  I  mutt  pit) 
And  wheo,  or  how,  at  where  we  met, 
1  own  to  me'a  a  >ccr1  yet. 
But  th»  I  know,  when  thou  an  fled, 
Where'er  ii»cy  lay  thc^e  limbt,  this  head, 
No  clod  w  valtidcss  shall  be 
As  aB  that  then  renutns  oT  me. 
J.  ioeH]  dmie,  totTDw.  lift)  tkj. 


ANNA  L£TITIA  BARBAULD 

O  whitfwr,  vhithef'  don  thou  6yt 
Whtft  bend  ubkcb  thy  trackleu  couno^ 

And  id  tht>  Hrange  divorce, 
Ah,  Cell  where  I  tana  «cck  this  corapouail  It 
To  ilw  TUt  oonn  of  «Rp)rrul  &mc 

From  whence  ihj  cMcnee  came 
Dost  thou  thy  IligliE  putsuc,  when  fntd 
Fnun  matter's  base  cocurabering  vttA ! 

Ot  dost  thou,  bid  from  M£bt, 

Wxit,  like  some  spell-bouDd  luiight, 
l^rough  blink  oblirioot  yean  xh'  appointed  bour 
To  break  thy  tmn«  and  ttXKutae  Uiy  ptwrri 
Yet  otnst  thoti  without  thought  or  reeling  be! 
O  uy,  what  sit  thou,  wh«i  do  toon  tbou'rt  tlxe? 

Life!    we  have  be«n  loog  together, 
Througli  pleasant  and  through  doudjr  weather  i 
'Tis  hard  to  part  when  friends  are  dear| 
Perhaps  'twill  coM  «  sgli,  i  uv;^ 
Thco  steal  awny,  gire  little  wmiing, 
Choo«e  tliine  own  omcj 
Say  not  Good-nigln,  but  in  sotne  br^ht«r  cGme 
Bid  me  Good-morainf ! 


FANNY  GREVILLE 


47T>         Pra/erfor  Indiffhence 

T  ASK  no  kind  rttani  of  lo*c, 

No  tempting  cl>ann  to  please  t 
Far  from  the  heart  Chose  jiAs  remove. 
That  si^hii  for  peace  and  ttsc< 


AkCM., 


FANNY  GREVILLE 

Nor  puce  not  eaat  the  h«in  can  know, 

That,  like  the  onSe  tnie, 
Tunit  ac  tbe  Uiuch  of  joy  or  woe, 

But,  turning,  tmnUcs  too. 

Ftf  W  disims  the  sod  cin  wound, 

Tis  pain  in  each  degree: 
Til  Um  bn  to  R  ceiuio  bound, 

Bejrood  is  >goo]r. 


JOHN  LOGAN 

To  tbe  Cucis9 

LJAIL,  btauUous  stiaoger  of  tbe  ^ 
*  '     Thon  messenger  of  Spring ! 
Now  HtJttn  repairs  thy  rural  seat. 
And  wood*  thy  welcome  ring. 

Whu  time  the  daisy  decks  the  gracn, 
'Vhf  ccnMD  *0»oc  W*  hear : 

Hast  tliou  \  star  to  guide  thy  path, 
Or  mark  the  rolling  year? 


I74"-Il4i 

ite! 


Dclightfiii  vishaat  I    with  tbee 

I  haQ  tbe  tiitw  of  flowers, 
Aod  hear  the  sound  of  tnnstc  sweet 

From  birds  amoag  the  bowers. 

The  schoolboy,  wad'ring  ibrou^  ikt  wood 

To  pvit  the  primroae  gay, 
Sums,  the  new  voice  of  Sprii^  to  hear. 

And  imitates  ihy  lay. 

m 


JOHN  LOGAN 

Wh:it  time  the  pea  piiis  oa  liie  bloom, 

Thou  IliV  thy  toatl  rait. 
An  muni  s^*"'  ■"  '"•^  laods, 

Another  Spring  to  hwl. 

Sweet  bird  I    thy  bower  is  eter  fftea, 

Thy  Kky  u  erer  dear; 
Thou  btwt  no  Mtrow  in  ihy  Eong, 

No  Winter  in  thy  ycirl 

O  codd  I  fly,  VA  Hy  «nth  tbcc! 

We'd  make,  with  joyful  wing, 
Our  aanu^il  vi&it  o'er  ilic  globe, 

CompaDions  of  the  Spring. 


LADY  ANNE  LINDSAY 
477'  AuU  Robin  Gray 

Vy/HEN  the  shwp  are  in  the  fauld,  lud  [be  lij-c  at  hunc, 

And  a'  the  warld  to  rc»  ric  ganc, 
The  WHes  o'  my  heart  fa'  In  sbowws  fr«  my  «V, 
While  my  gudcman  lies  souitd  by  me. 

Youpg  Junie  lo'ed  mc  wcci,  and  sought  me  (be  hlx 
But  Mting  a  croun  he  lud  mething  cite  betide: 
To  make  the  croun  a  pund.  young  Jamie  gatd  to  sfa; 
And  the  croun  and  the  puod  were  bihh  for  me. 

He  hadm  been  a«a'  a  week  but  only  tm. 

When  my  faihei  biak  his  arm,  and  the  cow  was  Mown  awa ' ; 

My  moilier  »hc  fell  sick, — and  my  Jamie  at  the 

Ami  aiild  Robin  Gray  ctme  a-courtin'  mc. 


LADY  ANNE  LINDSAY 

My  (atber  couldai  woik,  *d4  my  mother  couldu  i{«a( 
t  Idil'd  day  nod  night,  but  thv'n  bread  I  coddoa  wio[ 
Add  Rob  iR3ti)t«in'd  th«n  bitib,  ii&d  wi*  xan  in  bin  e't 
Said,  *  Jctiftie,  for  their  ukex,  O,  nuiry  me ! ' 

My  bean  it  uid  aay:    I  iMk'd  fbr  Jamie  back; 

But  ibe  wind  it  blew  higb,  aad  the  ship  it  was  a  wrack; 

His  ^tiip  it  was  a  wract: — Why  didoa  Jamie  dtti 

Or  why  do  I  liv«  to  cry,  W»e  'i  me ! 

My  (liber  urjcd  mc  wr :    my  mMhci  didoa  s|xak  i 
ttut  she  took'd  in  my  face  till  my  bnm  \ru  like  to  break : 
They  gi'cd  him  ray  baad,  tho'  my  heart  wis  in  ibe  dui 
Sae  jniU  Robin  Cray  be  was  sudemin  to  me. 

I  hadiK  faceti  a  wile  a  week  but  only  Tour, 
When  mounfti*  u  I  sat  m  the  stane  at  the  door, 
1  saw  ray  Jamtr's  wraith, — for  I  couldnt  think  it  he, 
Till  be  said,  *  Tm  cook  hame  to  nurry  thee.* 


0  sail,  tail  did  we  greet,  and  mtickie  did  we  lay 
We  took  but  ae  ki»,  and  we  tore  ounehet  away 

1  wish  that  I  were  dead,  but  I'm  no  like  lo  dee 
And  why  wm  I  bora  to  say,  Wae's  me! 

I  pm  Bke  ■  gbaist,  and  I  carena  to  s|iia  i 
I  daurtn  think  on  Jamie,  for  that  wad  be  a  sin  t 
But  I'll  do  my  best  a  gude  wife  aye  to  be. 
For  Mdd  Robin  Gray  he  is  kind  unto  me. 


SIR  WILLIAM  JONES 

47S.  Epitram 

/^N  pucot  koMS,  A  naked  new-born  cbUd, 

^-^     Wrrping  llvou  wt'K  vtlitle  iiLI  urouod  Um  Knilvdi 

So  live,   tlut  xinkiftj  to  thy  life'i  I4M  nli-cp, 

Cnlm  tilou  nuy'ft  Kmile,  whilu  uli  arouDd  ihcc  wce:]i. 

THOMAS  CHAITLRTON 
4?p.  Song  from  L/£//« 

/^  SING  uftio  my  ro«iidclay, 
^"-^     O  drop  ihc  brio/  tear  with  mcj 
DuQce  no  moK  *t  Iiulydiy, 
Like  u  running  riTcr  be : 

My  love  i>  dead, 

Gone  to  his  death -bed 
All  under  the  willow-trec. 

Bbck  his  cryne  a  the  winter  nigbt, 
WImi«  liis  rode  as  ihe  sunnier  bbow, 
Red  his  r4C«  as  the  mornioi^  light, 
Cold  he  lies  in  the  £rare  bdow: 

My  \irK  a  dead, 

Gone  to  hix  drath>bed 
All  under  the  willoW'trce. 

Sweuc  his  UKigtfe  «  the  Uuo«tJc'»  note, 
^uick  in  ditncc  as  thought  cnn  be, 
Deft  hia  tabor,  cudgel  sioutj 
O  he  Itn  by  the  «-illi>w-tite  I 

My  love  is  desd, 

Guoe  to  hiK  death4)ed 
AH  under  the  willow-trec. 
479.  oyiw]  hail.  rodo]  coi»|ilrx!«D. 


THOMAS  CHA'ITERTON 

Hirkl   ihe  ritm  Bijis  liis  wing 

In  ibo  brin'd  ikli  below ; 

Hukl  ilie  dcMh-owl  lood  doth  sing 

To  tbc  nigtnnnm,  ss  iliry  goi 
My  loK  is  <l«d, 
G«iw  to  his  dnub-bed 

All  ufKlm-  the  willow-trte. 

Seel    the  white  mooa  shines  oa  ItJ^hi 
Whiter  b  tny  true-lore's  shroud: 
Whker  than  the  mofning  sky. 
Whiter  than  the  evening  cloud  i 
My  loTc  i»  dead. 
Gone  to  hb  drath-bed 
All  uadtr  tlw  willow-tnr. 

Here  upoa  my  trw-low's  p«e 
SluJI  the  hamo  Bowers  be  laid) 
Not  D«ie  holy  saint  to  san 
AH  the  coldness  of  a  maid : 
My  love  is  dead, 
Cone  to  hi*  dcaih-bcd 
AH  under  Uie  willow-Uec. 

With  ray  hands  111  dem  the  brien 
Round  lus  holy  corse  to  gre; 
Ouph  and  faiiy,  E^  your  fiin, 
Here  my  body  still  shall  be : 
My  love  is  dead, 
Gone  to  hit  dcath4>ed 
All  under  the  willow-im. 

■bat]  fautn.  gre}  stv».  oDpfc]  M 


THOMAS  CHATTERTON 

Comes  *"*^  Acorn-CQp  mmI  thorn, 
Drain  laj  hcanto  blood  away; 
Life  ud  all  its  good  [  scotR, 
Dance  by  night,  or  feast  by  day  I 
My  loie  b  dead, 
Gone  to  tin  death-bed 
All  under  the  «rillaw-tree. 


GEORGE  CRABBE 

dSo.  Meeting 

MY  Dimoa  wu  tl>e  lint  to  wkkc 
The  gcotk  Ibnic  that  cannot  die  | 
My  Dimon  \*  ibe  latt  to  take 

IV  fiiithful  boMtn'*  toTtest  ligh: 
The  life  between  is  nothing  worth, 

O  CMt  K  from  thy  thought  awayt 
Think  of  the  day  that  gSTc  it  hinh. 
And  this  ita  iwect  rttumiDg  day. 


Buried  be  all  chat  has  been  done. 

Or  say  that  naught  is  done  amiM; 
For  who  the  dangerous  path  can  shun 

In  such  bewildedng  world  as  this^ 
But  lore  can  etery  fauk  {ot%in. 

Or  vith  a  tender  look  reprovcj 
And  now  let  naught  in  memory  lite 

But  that  we  meet,  and  that  we  \on. 


GEORGE  CRABBS 


t.  LAte  IViitfom 

W^E'VE  nod  the  maze  of  error  tddimI, 

"^      Long  wiDckiiag  tn  ilic  winding  sladet 
And  BOW  tlie  torch  of  inith  is  foond. 

It  only  shows  nt  wbcrc  w«  Mraytd: 
By  long  cxperWnce  Uufiht,  u-c  know — 

Can  rigliily  judge  of  fncnds  «nd  font 
CiD  all  the  wonh  of  the«e  allow, 

And  kU  the  fnilu  dbcFrn  in  those. 

Now,  'til  our  boast  thu  we  can  <{imII 

The  wildest  passtoas  in  th«ir  rage, 
Caa  their  destntctire  force  ttf«1, 

And  tjietr  bnpetoous  wrath  assuage. — 
Ah,  Virtue!  dodt  tbou  arm  when  now 

This  bold  rtbcIUous  rue  are  fled  * 
When  all  thc«c  tyrants  mt,  and  thon 

Art  warring  with  the  oiightjr  dead? 


482. 


A  Marriage  Ring 


'I  'HE  ring,  »o  won)  at  yon  beboM, 
^       So  thin,  so  pale,  is  yet  of  gohj: 
The  pasam  such  it  was  to  prove — 
Worn  with  life's  cue,  lofe  yet  was  love. 


4^3' 


WILLIAM  BLAKE 
To  fie  Muses 


W/'HCTHEK  on  IcU's  ih»Ay  brow 

•^       Or  in  iJie  chambers  of  ihc  Ea*!, 
The  chamSen  of  the  Sun,  that  now 
From  udent  melody  han  CMsed) 

Whether  in  bcavcn  jrc  wuider  fair. 
Or  the  green  coroers  of  the  ruth, 

Or  the  blue  regions  of  the  air 

Where  the  mclo(lio<0  winds  ha«e  Initbi 

Whether  on  crystal  rockx  jre  rore, 
Beneath  the  bosom  of  the  ten. 

Wandering  in  naay  a  coral  grorc; 
Fair  Nine,  fotuking  Poctiy; 

How  have  you  \tft  die  aocient  love 
That  bards  of  old  cnjoy'd  in  j-ou  I 

The  hnguid  fiuiags  do  scarcely  more, 
The  Mund  is  forced,  the  notes  are  few. 


"7J^'* 


4*4. 


To  Spring 


/^  THOU  with  dew/  locks,  who  lookeit  down 
^-'      Through  the  clear  windows  of  the  mofnittg,  i 
Thine  angel  vyti  upon  our  wcsum  isle, 
Which  ill  full  cbotr  hails  thy  af^roach,  O  SjKingt 

The  hiih  tcU  one  another,  and  the  liitcatnji 
Valley*  hears  all  our  loo^ng  eye*  are  tum'd 
Up  to  thy  bright  pavilions:    issue  forth 
And  let  thy  holy  feet  visit  our  dime! 


WILLIAM  BLAKE 

Come  oVr  cbe  fUttni  hilb,  and  let  our  winds 
Kivi  thy  perAmttd  gameaisi   let  n*  one 
Tliy  mom  mmI  erming  bnath ;    sotter  thy  pcatts 
Upoo  our  lovcwk  land  that  roounu  for  tbcc. 

O  deck  h«r  Ibtth  with  thy  fair  Itngcn ;   pour 
Thy  mA  kuiKS  on  her  bowmt   ind  put 
Thy  goldea  crown  upon  her  hmgutsh'd  head, 
Whole  nodett  trenei  are  boniid  up  lor  thee. 


Soitg 

X^V  silts  and  line  array, 

■'■''■     My  «nilts  md  languiith'd  air, 

By  Lore  ace  dritcn  away; 

And  monrofii)  lexn  I)e3patr 
Bring)  me  yrw  to  deck  my  gni«: 
Such  end  tme  lovers  hate. 


Hi*  face  b  &ir  as  heaicn 
When  sprin^ng  buds  i^tifold ; 

O  why  to  him  wu'i  given, 
Wh<Mc  brjit  is  wintry  cold? 

H'm  breast  is  Love's  all-worsliipp'd  lomh, 

Where  all  Love's  pilgrims  come. 

Bring  roe  an  axe  and  spade, 

Bring  nie  a  winding-sheet  i 
When  I  my  grave  have  made. 

Let  winds  and  lempcm  beat: 
Then  down  III  lie,  as  cold  as  ciny: 
TnK  love  doth  pass  a»-ayl 


WILLIAM  BLAKE 


.^6.  SetJs  of  Itmocatce 

pIPING  down  UiG  r^lcff  wRd, 

*  Piping  songs  of  pleaMiu  glee, 
Od  a  cloud  I  uw  a  child, 

And  be  Lusliiiig  w>J  to  nic: 

*  Kpe  a  tong  ibout  a  Ltmb !  * 

So  I  ppcd  witK  nierry  diccr. 
*Pi|>cr,  jiipc  t)ijt  song  Hgaiat' 
So  I  piped:  be  vqil  \a  bur. 

'Drop  diy  pipe,  thy  happy  pipcj 
Sing  tliy  wogg  of  haiifijr  dinr ! ' 

So  I  sung  iIk  sasir  ngsb, 

While  he  wept  with  joy  to  hear. 

'Piper,  sit  ihet-  dovn  and  write 
]□  a  bvok  ilul  oil  may  ntA.' 

So  he  taoiib'd  from  my  vtglu; 
And  I  fluck'd  >  boUow  reed, 

And  I  made  a  niral  pen, 

And  I  stain'd  tbe  wutvr  dear, 

And  I  wrote  my  luppy  »ong« 
Every  child  may  joy  to  heir. 


487.         The  Little  Blach  Bsj 

RAY  tnocher  bore  me  in  the  smiihem  wild, 
-^'^     And  I  am  hUck,  but  O,  my  soul  is  t 
While  as  an  angel  is  the  Itnglbh  child, 
Uut  1  an)  bUdc,  as  if  beresred  of  Itghn. 


WILLIAM  BLAKE 


iDotber  taught  rae  uodttonuh  «  ute, 
And,  BtUDg  datn  before  the  beat  of  day, 
Sbe  took  me  oo  her  lap  and  kii»^  mc, 
^^    Aod,  poiainig  to  the  East,  began  to  ayt 

^Bl.00k  M  the  riling  tun;   tbere  God  does  live, 
^f   And  ^Tc*  Hb  light,  and  fftn  His  heat  away, 
^^And  6owm  a&d  mtt  >nd  beasts  sad  men  rrcnve 
Comfort  to  morning,  joy  b  the  noondjiy. 


^ 


» 


And  we  an  pot  on  eanh  a  little  f{ace. 
That  we  nuy  lesro  to  bear  the  b«ms  of  lorei 
Add  ihete  Uack  bodtn  and  this  niabunit  face 
Are  but  a  dottd,  and  like  a  ihady  grove. 


For  when  our  (onlt  b«*C  leara'd  ibe  Iwat  to  btar, 

The  clond  will  niush,  wc  shall  hear  His  voice, 

Sa)ii^  "Cocnc  out  from  the  grave,  my  lore  and  eaK, 

And  nMisd  my  golden  tent  like  lambs  rejoice."' 


h: 


^TTI 


did  my  mother  say,  and  IchsM  me, 
And  thus  I  say  to  little  f^nglisb  boy. 
When  I  from  black  and  he  from  white  clood  free. 
And  round  the  uni  of  Cod  Kkc  lamba  w«  joy, 


shade  htm  from  tbc  heat  till  he  can  bear 
To  lean  in  joy  upon  our  FaUwt'a  knee; 
And  then  I'll  sund  and  stroke  hit  filrcr  hair, 
be  like  hint,  and  lie  will  then  ton  me. 


WILLIAM  BLAKE 


4S8.  Hear  the  feice 

|_J  EAR  the  voice  oF  the  BanI, 

WhoM  can  hnve  heard 

The  Holy  WoTil 

Tlvit  wilk'd  among  the  asdcnt  Utni 

dninj;  ihc  Lljwid  joul, 

And  weeping  in  the  erening  itnv ; 

Tli;it  might  coolral 

The  -(ony  pole. 

And  falkri,  fallen  light  mewl 

■O  Earth,  O  Earth,  return  1 

Arise  fram  out  the  dewy  grais! 

Nijihl  is  woni, 

And  the  mom 

Riso  fram  the  slumbrous  mass. 

'TuTTi  away  no  more; 

Why  wilt  thou  turn  away^ 

The  starry  floor, 

The  watery  shore, 

[«  giro)  thee  till  the  breal:  of  (Uy.* 


4^9-  The  Tiger 

TIGER,  tiger,  burning  bright 
^       In  the  forctts  of  the  night, 
Wlut  immortal  hand  or  eye 
Conld  frame  thy  fearful  symnetry? 


WILLIAM  BLAKC 

In  what  iBaaM  dcepi  or  skies 
BwM  ibo  lin  of  Uiioe  tjt*i 
On  wtiit  wiags  (hit  he  aspire? 
What  tlie  hand  dare  »riu  thr  fire? 

And  what  shoulder  and  wlut  an 
Could  twist  the  %incw>  of  thy  hniiF 
And,  when  thy  heart  bcgui  to  brat, 
Wlut  dread  hand  and  what  dread  fnt  i 

WbM  the  hammer?    What  (be  chain? 
In  what  furnace  was  thy  brun ! 
What  the  sniil?    What  dread  gra«{i 
Dare  its  deadly  tenon  dasp? 

When  (he  stan  threw  down  tiKir  vpean. 
And  water'd  hrarcn  with  their  lean, 
Did  He  smile  Hb  vork  to  sec? 
Did  He  who  made  (he  laiub  make  thee? 

Tigir,  tiger,  butninjt  bright 
In  the  forests  of  the  night. 
What  immoftal  hand  ot  eye 
Dare  franw  thy  fearful  tynunciry? 


^po.  Cradle  Son^. 

CLHEP,  sleep,  beauty  bright, 
'-'     DieaiDing  in  the  joys  of  night; 
Steep,  sleep;    in  thy  »krp 
Little  wrrows  sit  and  weep. 

Sweet  babe,  in  ihy  face 
Soft  desiies  I  can  tnoe. 
Secret  j»y«  aod  secret  smiles. 
Little  pretty  infant  wiks. 


WILLIAM  BLAKE 

As  thy  aofKst  lunbs  I  feci 
Smilex  as  of  the  motning  an] 
O'ci  thy  cheek,  and  o'er  thy  brtau 
Where  thy  liule  btait  doth  rest. 

O  the  cwtnbg  wOn  Uiat  cncp 
In  thy  littte  heart  xietf ! 
When  thy  little  heart  doth  vnke, 
Then  ibc  dnuKUiil  night  shall  break. 

49!.  Night 

'T^HE  sun  descending  in  the  wm, 
^      The  evening  vaa  does  shine  | 
The  fairdi  are  nleot  in  their  neM, 
And  I  muu  wvk  for  miac. 
Thr  moon,  lik;  a  flower 
Id  iicaitn'}  high  bowrr, 
With  silent  ddight 
Sits  and  smiles  oo  the  night. 

Farewdl,  green  fields  snd  happy  gio\t, 

Wliere  flocks  have  took  drlighi: 
Wh«re  lambs  haic  nibbled,  stleni  baot* 
The  feet  of  Mgets  bright  i 
Unseen  they  pour  blessing 
And  joy  wttltout  ceuing 
On  each  bud  and  blouotn, 
On  each  sleeping  bosom. 

They  look  in  every  tbovghtless  oe*i 
Where  birds  are  covcr'd  wsnn ; 

They  visit  cave*  of  crery  bensi. 
To  keep  ihera  all  from  barm: 


WILLIAM  BLAKE 

If  tJi«y  MC  any  wdqiing 
That  should  \avt  hera  iktfbig, 
They  pour  slnp  oo  thea  hniJ, 
And  sit  dou-Q  bjr  tbeir  bccL 

Whm  wolres  tstd  fifjtn  howl  for  prey, 

Tbcy  ptlyiajt  tUnd  md  wwp, 
Serking  Co  drire  their  thirst  atny 
And  krtj)  Uiem  from  the  ihMjh 
But,  if  they  n»h  dfcadful, 
The  uigds  mou  heedful, 
Recrire  each  iniM  sfitit, 
New  worlds  to  inlucTiL 


And  ibm  the  Iktn's  ruddy  eye* 
Shill  How  with  Win  o(  gold : 
And  pttying  the  tender  cnri^ 
And  viJkiRg  round  the  fold: 

Stytng,  'Wretlt  hy  His  nKcknest, 
And,  by  His  ht-aldi,  skJcona, 
Are  driven  awuy 
Pnm  oui  imniortal  day. 

'And  now  beside  tbee,  bleating  lamlx 

I  can  He  down  and  slec|>, 
Or  think  on  Him  who  bore  ihy  namir, 
Gnze  after  tbee,  and  weep. 
For,  «-Mh'd  in  life's  river, 
My  bright  mane  for  ctcr 
SMI  ihiac  like  the  gold 
Aa  t  guard  o'er  the  fold.' 


WILLIAM  BLAKE 

4ffj.  Lew's  Secret 

M  EVER  seek  u>  uU  ihy  km, 
^  ^     Love  ilttt  never  toU  cao  be  i 
For  Uir  senile  wind  doch  move 

SikDtl;ri  ><>*)stt>ly- 

I  told  my  low,  I  uld  mj  \on, 

I  told  tier  all  my  hnn, 
TrrmMin^  cold,  in  ghM&lly  inn. 
Ahl    the  did  de|«nt 

Soon  ificr  she  was  Kone  fioin  me, 

A  tRreller  came  by, 
Silently,  intisibly; 

He  took  her  with  a  ligh. 


ROBERT  BURNS 

4i^i.  Mary  Morism 

/^  MARY,  «  ihy  window  be, 

^-^     It  is  the  wish'd,  tlie  uysied  howr! 

Those  snilcs  and  ginnces  kt  me  sec, 

That  mike  the  miMr's  iriAfuxr  poor: 
How  biylhcly  wad  1  bade  the  aiour 

A  weary  slave  frae  sua  to  md^ 
Could  I  the  rich  rewitrd  mcuiv, 

The  ioivly  Maiy  Morisoa! 

Ytstrcrn,  when  to  the  urmbtin;;  ming 

The  duiCG  gMd  thro'  the  lighted  ha', 
To  ihcr  my  faiicy  took  iu  wing, 
1  at,  but  neiihtf  Iward  Dor  uw: 
^jU-  •tour)  dMt,  toraMiL 


!»•<«• 


ROBORT  BURNS 

1*110'  thb  wu  liir,  ind  that  wm  bnw, 
And  )-cM)  tlie  tout  of  a*  the  towi^ 

1  tij^'d,  simI  »aiii  amrag  ihem  a*, 
■Yc  arc&i  Muy  Moiwon.' 

O  Mjty,  csast  tliou  wmk  his  peace, 

Wha  for  Oiy  tako  wad  gladly  <tic? 
Or  caoM  thou  bmk  that  Ixiui  of  lu&, 

Whaie  only  lant  b  lovioig  tbccf 
If  loK  for  knv  thou  vSuit  pt, 

At  k«9t  be  pity  to  nw  klioini( 
A  tboi^ht  ungentle  canna  be 

Itic  thought  o'  Mary  MunMo. 


O" 


|P  a*  the  aitts  the  wind  can  Uaw, 
I  dearly  like  the  west. 
For  there  the  bnmiie  tauie  Btcs, 

T^ic  lu»e  I  lo>  br« : 
There  wUd  woods  grow,  and  rWei^  fo«r, 

And  mooie  a  hill  between-, 
Dul  diy  aod  night  ray  fancy's  Dtgbt 
I»  eret  wj'  my  Jean. 

I  lec  lier  in  the  (kwy  Ikivrni 

I  tec  her  sweet  and  fair: 
I  hear  hn  in  tlw  tuncfu'  birds, 
1  hoar  bor  charm  the  air: 
LThcie  '%  ncA  a  bunnie  llower  tJuit  sj>rtng» 

By  foumain,  shaw,  or  f;reea ; 
[There  's  not  a  bonne  bird  that  sings, 
But  miodn  nw  o'  my  Jean. 

altU](oinUDf  lh«c«Di[M«u    nw]  roU 


ROBERT  QURNS 


4Pf.  AttU  Lang  Sync 

CHOULD  auld  acquaintance  be  forsot, 
"     And  neirr  brought  \o  min'? 
SbuuM  nuld  acquninuiicv  be  forgot, 
And  day)  o*  Iwig  syoe  i 

We  n-i  hae  rin  about  the  brars, 
And  fu'd  th?  gowans  line) 

But  we'wF  viodcT'd  monie  ■  weary  fit 
Sin'  xuld  bng  sync. 

Wc  twa  hae  paidl't  i'  die  bum, 
Ttae  mornin'  sun  till  dioc ; 

Bu!  seas  between  us  bnid  hae  r(»r*d 
Sio*  autd  bog  syne. 

And  here  '*  a  hand,  my  tniuy  fine. 
And  git'*  a  hand  o'  thine  i 

And  we'll  tak  a  right  g>nd-wiUie  wap^ 
For  add  lang  tyoe. 

And  surely  ye'll  be  yonr  ptnt-stowp, 

And  surrly  I'll  be  mine ; 
And  we'll  lak  a  cup  o'  kindnnt  yet 

For  auM  lang  «yne  I 

For  auld  laog  syne,  my  dear, 
For  add  lang  syne, 

We'll  lak  a  cup  a'  klndnesa  yet 
For  add  laog  tyne. 

Sovuw]  dalBin.  (it]  Toot.  dtni)  dlanw-tleaD. 

puracf.  ^id'Willic  wau^ht]  friendly  dmc^ 


ROBERT  BURNS 

fptf.  Mjf  Btmnh  Mar/ 

r^O  ftlcli  to  in«  a  pnt  o'  wiac, 
'^  An*  fin  it  to  a  silwT  uuie, 
Tlut  I  may  dfink,  before  I  go, 

A  tenia  ta  my  bonnie  lassie. 
The  bwt  rocks  U.  the  pier  o'  Leith, 

Fu'  loud  the  wind  bbws  fne  tlie  fcny, 
The  Khip  rides  by  tbe  Berwick-law, 

And  I  8MIUI  trare  my  bonnie  Maty. 

Tbe  trum|«ts  sound,  the  boonen  fly, 

Tbe  {Uttertng  spearK  are  rvnkid  ready; 
Tbe  (bom  o'  war  are  heard  afar, 

The  banfe  doact  thkk  anl  bloody; 
it's  no  tbe  roar  o*  sea  or  ihore 

Wad  mak  roe  lan^  with  to  tarry  i 
Nof  about  o'  war  thai  '*  heard  af^r— 

It  'a  knug  thee,  my  bonnie  Mary  ! 


4P7.         jfoif  Anderson,  mj  Jo 

JOHN  ANDERSON,  my  jo,  JoJia, 
^      When  we  were  first  ucqueM, 
Your  locks  were  like  the  rai«n. 

Your  faoaoic  b(ow  wan  bfcnt; 
But  now  your  brow  it  beld,  John, 

Yo«r  lock*  are  like  the  soovi 
Bui  blesMi^s  on  your  frouy  (>ow, 

John  Andrrmn,  my  Jo! 

496.  loMe)  cBp.  497-  jol  iweelkrarL  Utx*)  taoolh, 

iMKiisklaL  bcldj  ImU.  povj  {WIe. 


ROBERT  UURN8 


Jolin  AfidcnKW,  my  }o,  John. 

We  damb  the  hill  thrgiibrr  i 
And  RKxiie  a  csncy  Aaj,  Johni 

Wc'w  liu)  wi'  aoe  uuihrr  i 
Now  we  nunut  tottn  ilovo,  John, 

But  band  m  liaod  well  go. 
And  dwp  (heather  at  the  foot, 

John  Aodcnon,  tny  jo. 

4pS.  The  Banks  o'  Z7m« 

VE  flowery  buiks  o'  bonnic  Doai, 
*       How  CM  ye  blune  **e  fi« ! 
How  can  ye  clianl,  ye  littk  birds, 
And  I  ue  lo'  o'  caret 

TItou'il  break  ray  heart,  thou  boonir  bird, 
Thu  sing»  upoo  the  bough; 

Thou  minds  me  o'  the  h«]ipy  <Uys 
When  my  fauw  Iutc  was  mic. 

Thou'U  breik  my  bent,  thou  bortnie  bird, 
Thtt  nn^  bnlde  thy  mate  t 

For  sar  I  MI,  md  ne  I  taof, 
And  wistna  o'  my  f»te. 


Aft  h»e  I  roved 


To  w*  the 


bomie  Dnon, 
woodbine  twine ; 


And  ilka  bird  »ng  o'  ita  larc, 
And  sae  did  I  0*  mine. 

Wi*  lighuomc  heart  I  pu'd  a  raw 

Upon  a  mom  in  Juae; 
And  sac  I  flonriih'd  on  the  room. 
And  sae  wM  pu'd  or'  nMiu 
497-  csnlTl  «h«n4aL        4ft.  at*]  tn. 


ROBERT  BURNS 

Wi'  lEihtsome  heart  I  pu'd  a  rtne 

Upoo  its  thoniy  nw) 
l£<H  my  {one  Imer  suw  my  rose, 
And  left  the  iboni  wi'  me. 

tp.  Ae  Fmd  Kiss 

A  E  fond  luM,  and  thai  we  sctct; 
^^     Ae  farcwKl,  aUt,  for  ercr! 
Deeji  in  tiean-wnng  ton  III  pledge  ibrc, 
Warring  Rghs  and  groma  I'll  mjc  thee ! 

Who  (hall  «ay  that  PortiUK  grieves  hini 
Wlitle  tite  star  of  hope  the  IcaTes  Itiin? 
Me,  nae  chectfu'  twrinkk  lij^hls  me, 
Uatk  dnpir  wouad  braigbta  me. 

I'll  ne'er  btaoie  my  )>itnia)  fsncy  { 
Naething  codd  tttisi  my  Nincy; 
But  ID  Me  her  «-»  to  loi-c  her, 
Love  b««  lier,  and  low  for  ctct. 

Had  we  Dcm  Iimd  sac  kindly, 
Had  w«  ncter  loroj  sae  bliadly, 
Never  met — or  oeTcr  parted. 
We  bad  De'er  been  broken-hearted. 

Fare  tbee  weel,  ibou  first  and  fiufest! 
Pare  ibce  weel,  ibuu  best  aod  deafest  1 
Thioe  be  ilka  joy  and  treasure, 
Peaoe^  enjoyment,  loie,  and  pleasure ! 

Ae  foed  kiss,  aad  then  we  severl 

Ac  fiiewcel,  alas,  for  everl 

Deep  ia  heatt.wrung  tcan  III  pledge  thee, 

Warring  tighi  and  glows  I'll  wi^  thee! 


,  attw]  itolc; 


499   "•eel  »t«k^  pl'^ 


m 


ROBERT  BURNS 


foo.  Bonnie  Lesley 

/^  SAW  ye  bonde  Ledey 
^-^     A*  the  g!»(l  o'er  the  Bordrr? 
She's  gaoc,  like  Alexander^ 
To  spread  bcr  con^unu  fanbcr. 

To  xe  her  »  to  love  Iim, 
And  lo»e  but  hei  for  trci; 

Foe  Nature  made  hcf  whai  she  is, 
And  ne'er  nude  »ic  uiithcrl 

Thou  art  a  queen,  fair  Lesley, 
Thy  subjects  we,  before  iheet 

Thou  art  dirine,  fair  Loiey, 
The  hearts  o'  men  adore  thee. 

The  Deil  he  couldoa  scutli  tliee, 
Oi  auglit  tlut  wad  belaag  thec) 

He'd  look  bto  thy  bonnie  face 
And  lap/,  *  I  canoa  wrang  thee  t ' 

The  Powers  aboon  will  ttoi  then, 
Misfbrtuoe  sba'mi  steer  tlie«: 

Thou'n  like  themsel'  su  loiely, 
That  ill  they'll  ne'er  let  Dear  tbte^ 

Return  again,  fair  Lesley, 

Return  to  Caledcoiel 
Ttut  we  may  br^  we  hac  a  lass 

There's  nane  a^n  sae  bonnie  I 

Ckith]  hum.  tent]  watclk  Rmt]  aiAm. 

a* 


ROBERT  BURNS 

Highland  Mary 

VTE  baaks  aad  braes  and  sicvanu  itound 
'      Tbe  cattle  o'  Mootfoincr)-, 
Gn«n  be  yoar  woods,  toA  bir  your  flowets, 

Your  wnten  ocTcr  dnnnlic ! 
Tbefv  nmraer  Cru  nnfauld  her  tobcf, 

And  ibrrc  ihc  Ungcsl  urrj  i 
For  there  I  look  the  l.wt  faffwixl 

O*  my  Bwcct  HighUnd  M^ij. 

How  strcetljr  Uocro'd  the  gajr  creen  bitk. 

How  rich  the  tiawthora's  blaaMwn, 
A*  uDderacMli  thn/  ftagraat  thadc 

I  cUtp'd  hcT  to  my  bosom! 
Tbt  golden  hours  on  sngcl  win);9 

Flew  o'er  me  and  my  Aemv. 
For  dear  to  me  aa  light  and  life 

Wat  my  sweet  Hisltland  Mary. 

Wi'  modie  a  tow  and  lock'd  esibnce 

Our  parting  was  fa'  tender; 
And,  pledging  af^  to  meet  agito, 

We  tore  oufmIs  asunder ; 
But  oh !   felt  Death's  uniiinety  firost, 

That  nipt  my  Aowcr  ue  eatlyt 
Now  peca  's  the  wd,  and  cauld  's  the  clay, 

TIkU  wnps  lay  Highland  Mary  I 

O  pale,  pdc  now,  thoBc  ro5y  lipa 

I  afi  hae  kna'd  mc  roodly! 
And  closed  for  aye  the  spariLline  glance 

That  dwelt  on  me  sac  kindly! 

m 


ROBERT  BURNS 

And  mooUcring  now  ia  sUent  dust 
That  hean  thu  It^ed  me  devly  I 

Bui  still  withio  my  batam'>  core 
SluiU  lire  mj  Ht£)iUi><l  Mary. 


$02.  0  -were  my  Love  /on  Lilac  fair 

/^  WERE  my  Lore  yoa  Ulac  &if, 
^-^     Wi*  purple  bloMoms  to  Uie  spring, 
And  I  »  bird  to  nhelto  there. 

When  wcaticd  on  my  little  wing; 
How  I  viA  mourn  when  it  was  torn 

By  Ruiiimn  wild  unci  wintet  rude  I 
But  I  w^d  sing  on  waoioa  wing 

When  youdiFu'  May  its  bloon  rtMw'd. 

0  gin  my  Love  were  yon  red  rose 

That  grows  upon  the  cosde  wV, 
And  I  myiel  a  dr4p  o*  dew, 

Into  hi-r  bonnic  btna.  to  fa' ; 
O  there,  beyond  cxp««v5ion  blest, 

I'd  fca»t  on  beauty  a'  the  night; 
SeaI'd  on  her  silk-Eai't  fjulds  to  rest, 

TiU  ficy'd  iwa'  by  Plivbus'  light. 


S03.  A  Red,  Red  Rose 

^~\  MY  I.B<re'«  like  a  red,  red  rose 
^^     That's  npwiy  ipnuig  in  Juoe." 
O  my  Lbtc's  like  the  mrlodie 
That'*  swccdy  pJa/d  in  tune  I 


ROBERT  BURNS 

As  fitr  m  Uiou,  my  hamae  bu. 

So  deep  in  lure  xta  1 : 
And  I  will  Invc  tlicr  still,  my  lifjt. 

Till  a*  thr  km  ging  diy: 

Ttll  a'  (he  tras  ^ang  dry,  my  dtar. 
And  the  rockx  mdt  wi'  the  hbi; 

I  will  luTC  tbce  «cill,  my  dear, 
Whtk  ihe  sands  o'  life  sluU  ma. 

And  fiat  thee  wccl,  my  ooly  Love, 
And  r<uc  tliee  wed  a  while ! 

Alii  I  will  come  again,  my  Lure, 
Tho'  it  were  ten  thonund  mite. 


LatHrtit  for  QiUoJen 

"T^HE  lowly  lass  o'  inwrows, 
*■      Nae  joy  dot  picuuic  cut  sJie  !>«e; 
For  e'en  and  mom  the  cnn,  'Ala^tl' 

And  iyc  the  s*ut  tear  blin's  her  e'e : 
'  DnutKntie  moor,  Diumowie  day, 

A  waefu'  day  it  wax  to  me! 
For  there  I  lo«  my  fmhei  dear. 

My  (Mhcr  dear  and  bmhrai  thnv. 

'Their  wintling-slMet  the  blnidy  clay, 

Tbcir  gravet  ate  groiriDg  giccn  to  Kc; 
And  by  ihcin  lie«  the  dearest  bd 

l^iRl  erer  Ucst  a  woman's  e'e ! 
Now  vac  to  thee,  tjiou  cnicl  k)rd, 

A  btuidy  man  I  bow  thoa  bei 
For  fiionie  a  heart  ibou  hast  made  satr, 

Tlut  ne'er  dkl  wracg  to  thine  oi  thee.' 


ROBERT  BURNS 


j-a/.  The  Farewell 

1 T  wks  a*  for  our  rtghtfu'  King 
*■     We  left  r»ir  S«tlan<rs  smodt 
It  was  a'  for  our  ri^htfu'  Kidk 
Wc  e'er  *aw  Iriih  land, 
My  dear— 
Wc  e'er  uw  Imh  bod. 
Now  a'  is  done  that  men  can  do, 

And  ■'  U  done  in  nini 
My  lore  acd  native  land,  farewell. 
For  I  nuun  croM  tbe  main, 

My  dear — 
For  I  raann  crau  the  matn. 
He  turo'd  him  right  and  nwod  abmri 

U|>on  the  Iridi  ohore; 
And  gae  his  briiUe-reins  a  th»ke, 
Wiih,  Adieu  for  cvcrnKwe, 

My  dca^— 
WiUi,  Adieu  for  cvcnoore! 
The  sodger  ftae  the  van  itnim% 

The  siilor  frac  the  maioi 
But  I  hae  paned  fne  my  lore, 
Ncter  to  raect  again. 

My  dear — 
Nenr  to  meet  a^tn. 
When  day  is  g^ne,  and  night  is  corner 

And  a*  folk  bound  to  $l(e]\ 
I  think  on  him  tliai  's  far  awa', 
Tbe  lee-lug  night,  and  weep^ 

My  dear — 
Tbe  lee-bsg  night,  and  weep. 
ke-l«n()  BvtlonB. 


ROBERT  BURNS 


fftitf.  Hark.'  f^  Mavis 

/^jf  tht  ye*Mt  tc  lii  titawtt, 
^      Ca'  Ihtm  mrhert  th*  btuhtr  gntot, 
Cti'  thtm  vtktrt  tht  bimit  rvwt, 
Mj  tvutir  Jrarif. 

Hatfc  \    th«  Ruris'  tveotag  sMg 
Sounding  Cbudeo's  woodi  mUf;, 
Then  s-EmldiDg  let  lu  jang, 
My  boonic  dcatie. 

Well  gw  down  by  Ctoudcn  siilr, 
Through  the  liazds  fprading  wide, 
0'«  the  wawi  that  »wettly  glid« 

To  the  moon  ue  clearly. 
Yonder  Ooudco's  siknt  towers, 
Where  at  moonshine  midnight  honra 
O'er  the  ctewy  liendtng  lki««n 

Fairies  daooc  «ae  cheery. 

Chain  nor  bogle  shall  dwu  (t*n 
Tbou'tt  to  Loi-e  and  Huven  Me  tlnr, 
Nocht  of  ill  Ruy  come  thee  near, 

My  bonaie  dearie. 
Fair  and  lovely  as  Uiou  art, 
Tbou  hast  stowD  my  Ttty  hesrt  i 
I  cao  die — but  cum  part, 

My  bonme  dcnric. 
While  wMers  wimjilc  to  the  ics ; 
While  diy  blink*  in  the  )i^  »e  hk; 
TiU  day-cauld  Amii  shall  blin'  my  c'c, 

Ye  shall  be  my  dearie. 
Ca'  iht  jovMi  U  the  imevru  .  .  . 


HENRY  ROWE 
ro7.  Suu 

ANGEL,  king  of  slf«anung  mora; 
'^     Chi-nib,  cali'd  by  Heav'n  lo  shine  j 
T"  orient  t[«d  the  vutc  fotlonii 
Guide  Ktlicml,  powV  ditinr; 

Thou,  Lord  of  all  wiilitn  I 
Goldeo  ipint,  lamp  of  day, 
Ho!t,  th»  dipt  in  blood  the  plain, 
Bids  the  crimson'd  mead  be  gtijr. 
Bids  the  green  blood  burst  the  vein) 
Thou,  Lord  of  all  within  I 

Soul,  that  wraji*  the  globe  in  light; 
Spirit,  beckomng  to  ariic ; 
DiiTCS  ttic  frowning  brow  of  ni^t, 
Glory  bunting  o'er  the  Kkics; 
Thou,  Lord  of  all  within  I 


jgH.  Mean 

■"pHEE  too,  modi-st  tressM  maid, 
*■       \MieQ  iliy  fjlIcD  Mars  appear; 
When  in  lawn  of  liie  anay'd 

Soir'rcign  of  yon  powdcr'd  sphere; 
To  thee  I  chut  at  cIom  of  diy, 
Bcneaib,  O  mnidcn  Moon!    Uiy  ray. 

ThroDcd  ID  tap]ihir«d  ring  svpron^ 
Prtgnant  with  celestial  jdce, 

On  silver  wing  thy  diaroocHl  slreaBi 
GivM  what  Kumnier  hours  jiroduce; 

While  view'd  impevl'd  nnh't  rich  inlaj, 

Hcneath,  O  niaidet)  Moont    thy  ny. 


HENRY  ROWE 

Glad,  pale  CynthuD  wine  I  »i[\ 
BivMbcd  tbe  flow'rjr  Ihvm  antong; 

Dnughtt  delicioai  wet  nj  tip; 
Dromi'd  in  aectai  dmnk  mj  toogi 

Wbik  tootd  10  Philomel  tlie  I^, 

Beneath,  0  raaideo  Moon !   thy  ny. 

Dew,  that  od'mi  obtineai  yiekU, 
Sweets,  that  western  wind*  diactoK, 

Buhiog  ipiBi^t  more  pwplcd  lield?, 
Soit'a  the  Nmd  ihu  winds  tlie  itwr; 

While  o'er  thy  mynled  bwas  I  str»y 

Beneath,  0  mudoi  Moool    thy  ray. 


WIIXIAM  LISLE  BOWLUS 

fop.  Time  and  Grief 

/~\  TIME !    who  knoir'«  a  Icracnt  h>nd  to  by 
^^     SoAcK  on  sonow't  wound,  and  Uowly  thcsce 
(Ldting  to  wd  irpOM  tbe  weary  sense) 
The  fsint  pang  Rnlc«  unperceivcd  away; 
Ob  thee  I  rest  my  onJy  hope  at  lut, 
And  think,  wbco  tbon  hast  dried  the  biuer  tear 
Thtt  flows  in  vain  o'er  all  my  soul  held  dear, 
1  may  loolc  hack  on  eiery  sorrow  puc. 
And  meet  life's  peaceful  cvcmn;;  with  a  unile: 
As  some  looe  bird,  at  day's  dcporiing  hour, 
Sbgs  in  the  suobmii,  of  the  mnsicnt  shower 
Foi]getfuJ,  though  its  wingi  are  vet  the  while: — 
Yet  ab  I   bow  muefa  miat  this  poot  heart  endure, 
Which  hopes  froin  tbtt^  aod  thee  alone,  a  cim! 


JOANNA  BAILLIE 

fio.  The  Outlaw's  Song        4 

T^HE  chough  and  crow  to  roost  are  gt 
■*       The  owl  sits  on  the  tree, 
Tlie  hush'd  wind  wails  with  feeble  moiin, 

Like  infant  charity. 
The  wild-fire  dances  on  the  fen, 

The   red  star  sheds  its  ray ; 
Uprouse  ye  then,   my  merxy  men  I 

It  is  our  op'ning  day. 

Both  child  and  nurse  are  fast  asleep, 
And  closed  is  every  flower. 

And  winking  tapers  faintly  peep 
High  from  my  lady's  bower ; 

Bt'wilder'd   hinds  with   shorten'd   ken 


MARY  LAMB 


Til. 


A  Child 


A     child's  a  ]iU)tlunj  for  an  hour t 
*^     Its  pretty  trick*  ■vit  try 
For  that  or  for  a  longer  ipacc-- 
Tb»  tire,  aad  lay  it  by. 

But  I  kacw  one  that  u>  ttwlf 

AH  aeaoons  could  conuol; 
That  wonU  ban  mock'd  the  senie  of  pda 

Odt  of  a  giinrid  Mul. 

Tbou  ftngglcr  into  loiing  arms. 

Voting  cUrabciH^  of  kiKcs, 
Wbn  I  forget  thy  ihoiisMHl  wxyt 

Tba  Efe  and  aU  ftbaU  ceasr. 


'fts-* 


CAROLINA,  LADY  NAIRNG 
pt,  Tbe  Land  o'  tie  Leal 

T'M  worin'  awa*.  John, 

-^     Like  soaw-wrvaths  in  thaw,  Joha, 

Fm  wearto'  awa* 

To  the  bud  o'  the  led. 
There '»  nae  torrow  then,  John, 
There  *«  ocitbcr  cauld  nor  care,  John, 
The  diy  is  aye  fair 

In  the  land  o*  the  IcaL 

Our  bonaic  bairn's  there,  John, 
She  vai  Uiilh  glide  and  fair,  Joliai 
And  Ol   we  giwlged  her  aatr 
To  the  land  o*  tbe  leat 


l]M-iBu 


CAROLINA,  LADY  NAIRNE 

But  sonow's  >el'  trtan  past,  Joha, 
And  joy '«  a>conitiig  fast,  John, 
The  joy  that's  aye  to  U»t 
In  the  Und  o'  the  Iml. 

Sae  iw  'i  the  joy  was  bought,  John, 
Soe  fne  the  battle  fought,  Joha, 
That  Mnfii*  man  e'er  brought 

To  Iho  land  o*  tlie  led. 
0,  dry  your  glbtcning  e'e,  John  ! 
My  Mul  bngs  to  be  fm,  Joha, 
And  iftgeU  beckon  me 

To  the  land  o'  the  leal. 

O,  baud  ye  leal  and  uw,  John  1 
Your  day  it's  wearin'  through,  Joh 
And  I'll  welcome  you 

To  the  land  o'  the  leal. 
Now  farc-ye-weel,  my  ain  John, 
This  waHd's  cares  are  rato,  Joho, 
We'll  meet,  and  we'll  be  fan, 

to  the  land  o'  the  teal. 

JAMES  HOGG 
fij.  A  Boys  Smg 

WTHERE  the  pools  are  bngbt  and  dnr, 

*'       Where  the  grey  trout  lies  asleep^ 
Up  the  river  and  otm  the  lea. 
That's  ilie  way  for  Billy  and  me. 

Where  the  bbcUnrd  sbgs  ibe  latew, 
Wheic  the  hawthorn  blooms  the  swectes, 
Where  the  nesdingx  chirp  aad  Qer, 
That'll  the  way  for  Billy  and  me. 
0* 


JAMES  HOGG 

Wlicre  the  movm  mow  the  cleBr.cit, 
Where  the  bay  lin  thick  aod  gncnoi, 
llicra  to  track  the  lionirwaid  bee, 
Thit's  thu  way  tor  Billy  and  mc. 
Wlwra  Uie  haul  bank  is  swqwit, 
Whtfe  the  thailuw  falb  the  decfic^ 
Where  the  clusTcrtng  nwB  ^  free. 
That's  Uw  way  for  Billy  snd  mc. 
Why  the  boys  should  drive  away 
Little  sweet  nwidena  from  the  phy. 
Of  loT«  to  banier  and  fijtht  so  v.-cll. 
That 's  tlte  tiling  I  nercr  could  tell. 
Bvl  tUs  I  know,  I  lore  to  pUy 
Throagh  the  nxadow.  among  the  bay; 
Up  the  water  aod  otrr  the  lea, 
That 't  the  way  for  Billy  and  tne. 

/J  4.  Kitmm/ 


DONNIR  KiloK-ny  gacd  up  the  glen; 
'-^     Bui  it  wasna  to  meet  Dvnnra's  men. 


I    Nor  the  rosy  mook  of  the  ii'le  to  »ce, 
For  Kibncny  was  pure  as  pure  could  be. 
h  was  only  to  hear  the  yorlia  sing, 
And  pu'  the  creM-ftower  round  the  j^ng; 
The  scadet  hypp  and  the  hindbetrye, 
Aod  the  nut  tlut  htmg  frae  the  haul  tree; 
For  Kibncny  was  pure  as  pure  could  be. 
But  lang  nuy  her  minny  loolc  o'er  the  wa', 
Aod  lang  may  she  kcV  i'  the  gieea-wood  sliaw; 
Lang  the  laird  o'  Duoetra  blame. 
And  lanj;,  lang  greet  or  Kilmeny  come  hame! 

S14.  yotlia]  ihc  ;cUaW')iainmtf.      UaiU>cnj«J  bsaaible.       IPMt] 
naiiuty]  noLhet. 


JAMES  HOGG 


When  many  a  iaj  had  come  and  fled. 
When  jjricf  grew  calm,  and  liopt  w»  dead, 
Vthm  mcM  for  Kilmeey's  Mul  had  been  sung, 
When  the  bedesman  had  yn/d  and  the  dead  beW 
Lxtc.  Lite  in  ^oatmn'  when  all  waa  «till. 
When  the  fringe  wa»  red  oo  the  wcstlia  hiU, 
The  wood  wu  »crc,  the  moon  i'  the  wine, 
The  leek  o"  the  cot  hung  orer  the  flm, 
Like  a  liitle  wee  cloud  in  the  woild  its  Une; 
When  the  ingle  low'd  wi'  an  eiry  leme, 
Late,  bie  b  the  gloamm'  ICilmeny  came  hamc  I 

'Kilmpny,   Kilmeny,  where  hB»c  jroo  beetif 
Lang  hae  we  sought  huth  holt  and  dent 
By  linn,  by  ford,  and  grewi-wood  tree, 
Yet  you  are  ha!e»ome  «nd  fair  to  see. 
Where  gat  you  UuA  joup  o'  ilie  Hly  scbon  i 
That  bonaie  snood  of  tlitr  birk  sae  green  i 
And  theK  ro<«s,  the  fairest  that  ever  were  seen? 
Kilmeny,  Ktlraeny,  where  hare  you  been}' 

Kilmcny  look'd  up  with  a  lorelf  grace, 

but  oac  smile  waa  seen  on  Kiimcny'a  facet 

As  stilJ  was  ber  look,  and  as  siiil  was  ber  t^t. 

As  (lie  itiilncss  that  by  on  the  emetaot  lea. 

Or  the  milt  that  ileepa  on  a  waveless  sea. 

For  Kilmeny  hnd  been,  she  knew  not  where, 

And  Kilmcny  hnd  swn  what  she  could  not  declare; 

Kilmeny  had  been  where  the  cock  ncTvr  ctev, 

Where  tlic  rain  never  fell,  and  the  u-ii»d  DevcrUew. 

Hui  it  seem'd  as  the  harp  of  tJi«  iky  had  nia^ 

And  tlie  airs  of  heaven  pby'd  touod  her  tongue, 

WtMtinJ  wnteni.  {U  lant]  alonli  tnr  Itttlf.  low'd}  flam* 

etT7  letncj  cny  (leain,  lun]  waietMll.  j°np]  > 


JAMES  HOGG 


Wbeo  ibe  ipke  of  Ui«  lordjt  (onns  she  tud  Km, 

And  a  Easd  where  tin  lud  never  been} 

A  land  of  Ion  tod  a  Und  of  ligln, 

WUhoottti  WW,  or  Rioon,  or  night: 

Whore  the  mtr  vmx'd  ■  Ittutg  ttreain, 

And  tbe  light  a  pure  c«l«cia]  beimi 

The  land  of  nswo,  it  would  seem, 

A  itUI,  IB  ererianing  dream. 

In  yoa  g(«en-wood  there  n  a  walk, 
And  in  that  wuk  there  ia  a  wvac, 
^^B         And  in  that  wciie  tlieie  ia  a  nuike, 
^H    Thai  neither  has  llush,  blood,  oor  banei 
^H    And  down  b  jvo  gr«n-wood  lie  walks  liis  lane. 

^^     In  that  green  Wene  Kilmeny  Uy, 

Her  boxxn  kipp'd  wi'  floirerfM  gayj 
But  the  air  was  soft  and  tbc  siletkcc  derm 
And  bonnie  Kilmcny  fell  sound  asleep. 
She  kcfin'd  nae  roair,  nor  opcn'd  her  e'c, 
TiU  wikrd  by  the  hjmns  of  a  for  couatiye. 

She  'wskcn'd  on  a  couch  of  the  ulk  ue  iJini, 
AU  MtiiKxl  wi'  the  bars  of  the  nuobow's  timi 

I    And  )oT«jy  bcii^s  round  were  life, 
Who  era  had  IraveD'd  mortal  life; 
And  aje  lltey  snuled  and  'gAo  to  specr, 
*Wfaai  ^irit  has  brought  this  mortal  Sere?' — 
'Lang  haic  I  joumc^'d,  tbc  world  wide,' 
A  meek  and  rewrcnd  fere  replied : 
'Baitfa  Bight  aod  diy  I  have  waich'd  the  fair, 
Eidem  a  thouaaod  rem  and  mail, 
twa'il]  twellod.  wsik',  >  row  of  Ae<p  danui  ptm. 

Iwhon,!  tem-buh.  luikc]  a  luate,  out^  equal. 

bn^  aJdob  bjr  binudC  bapp'dj  coTcred.  tfttr 

fae]  MIoir,  tiiknl]  nnlclerDiiUAll/. 

LM  m 


teqalta. 


JAMES  HOGG 

Y«(,  I  have  watcb'd  o'er  ilk  dcgreCi 

Whcretcr  bloom:>  fcmcniiyc; 

Bui  «inlcts  virgin,  free  of  staia 

In  mind  and  body,  fwid  I  nane^ 

Nrvvr,  Btnci:  chr  bacquct  of  time, 

Found  I  »  virgia  in  her  [irtmr, 

Till  late  ilib  bonntc  maitlca  I  uw 

As  ipoilMs  as  Oie  moming  snaw: 

Full  twenty  ytan  she  has  livi-d  as  (ttr 

As  the  spirics  that  sojoura  in  this  countrj-r: 

I  hare  brought  her  away  frac  the  *aares  of  meo 

That  sin  <M  death  she  never  nuy  ken.'^ 


They  da5i>'d  ber  waist  and  her  haods  s*e  fair, 

Tbey  kiss'd  her  cheek  and  ibi7  kemcd  ber  hair. 

And  round  came  many  a  tilooming  fere, 

Saying,  '  Bonnie  Kilroeny,  yc're  welcome  ben  I 

Women  are  freed  oi  the  litUnd  loatnt 

O  blest  be  the  day  Kilmcny  vtu  hoTn\ 

Now  shall  the  land  of  the  spiim  mc. 

Now  shall  it  ken  what  a  u-nnian  may  be) 

M^y  a  hug  year,  in  sorrow  and  pain, 

M.iny  »  Inng  year  through  the  wortd  we've  gutt, 

Conimis^ion'd  to  watcb  fair  womaakind. 

For  it  'a  tliey  who  nurice  the  inifflOrt.il  mind. 

We  have  wuub'd  their  siqis  as  the  lUwmng  shone|, 

And  deep  in  the  green-wood  walks  nlone; 

By  lily  bower  and  silken  bed, 

The  viewless  tears  hare  o'er  tbem  shed ; 

Have  soothed  thrir  ardent  minds  tn  sl«p, 

Or  left  the  couch  of  lore  to  weep. 

kcnwd]  combeil. 
0> 


JAMES  HOGG 


7t  hm  sen  I   wr  hsTc  sccat   but  xhe  tunc  must  come, 
iad  llie  aagfUs  will  wctp  ni  th*  day  of  doom  1 

*0  wodd  th«  {jumt  of  mortal  kind 
A]V  keep  the  boly  truths  in  mind, 
Thtt  kindred  cpiriu  tbcir  tnotionit  see, 
Who  witch  thrir  ■ways  with  anxious  c'e, 
And  friere  for  tbc  guilt  ol*  btiinMutycl 
O,  sweet  to  Heaven  the  nuiikn's  prayer, 
And  the  Bjb  that  li«a<en  *  boMin  ue  fairl 
And  desr  to  HcaTca  the  word*  of  itvth. 
And  the  pntsc  of  virtue  fiac  bCiWljr'E  moothi 
And  dear  to  the  vicwle&t  forras  of  air, 
The  Blinds  thai  kyth  u  the  body  fair  I 

'0  boonie  Kilmeoyl  free  fiae  uain, 

If  ctcr  you  scdc  the  world  again, 

Thu  world  of  nn,  of  sorrow  and  fear, 

O  ccU  of  the  joy*  that  are  w-wtiag  here  j 

And  tell  of  the  signs  you  shall  iJiottly  see  i 

Of  the  tBiMS  that  arc  dow,  and  the  times  thai  shall  be.'— 

They  lifted  KilrocBy,  tbey  ted  her  away, 

And  tbe  wafk'd  io  the  light  of  a  sunless  day ; 

The  *ky  was  a  dome  of  crystal  bright, 

Tbe  focntain  of  TUMn,  lad  focmtaiQ  of  light  i 

Tbe  emerald  AtUs  were  of  dazxling  f^ow, 

And  the  Aoven  of  everlasting  blow. 

Then  deep  in  tbe  toeom  bcr  body  ihcy  bad, 

That  her  youth  and  beauty  ncrcf  might  lade; 

And  they  smikd  oo  heaven,  when  ifacy  taw  ber  lie 

In  the  stream  of  life  that  waixler'd  bye. 

And  the  heard  a  song,  sbe  htatd  it  sung, 

She  kcnn'd  not  where;    but  sae  sweetly  it  rang, 


JAMES  HOGG 


It  M\  on  the  tar  like  >  Atvtm  of  the  morD : 
'O,  Ucit  be  (he  day  Kiloicoy  wm  bom  I 
Now  shall  the  land  of  ibc  ^nrits  tec, 
Nmv  shall  it  km  what  a  wonun  may  be! 
Tbe  sun  ibat  chines  on  the  world  sat  bright, 
A  bortow'd  gtetd  frae  the  fouDuin  of  light  i 
And  ihc  moon  that  sleelu  the  sky  nc  dun, 
Like  a  gouden  how,  or  a  btaflikss  sun, 
Shall  wear  away,  and  be  seen  nae  ntair, 
And  the  angets  shall  miss  them  trafcUmg  the  aifi 
i^ut  lang,  lang  after  baith  night  and  day, 
When  the  wo  and  the  wmld  have  cly«d  awayi 
When  the  sinner  ha*  gane  to  lus  waesome 
Kilmeny  ahall  smile  in  eternal  bloom  I ' — 

They  bore  her  away,  die  vist  not  how, 

For  »hc  fell  not  ann  nor  reA  below  t 

But  M  swiit  they  wain'd  her  through  the  1 

Twas  like  the  motion  of  sound  or  sight ; 

They  sccm'd  to  split  the  gales  of  air, 

Aod  yet  nor  ^e  not  brecic  was  ibete. 

Unmimber'd  groves  below  them  grew, 

They  came,  they  poxs'd,  and  backward  ficw, 

Like  ^oods  of  bloMums  gliding  oo, 

In  moment  «ecn,  in  momeot  gpot. 

0,  never  vale*  to  mortal  view 

Appcar'd  like  those  o'er  which  they  flew! 

That  land  to  human  spirits  given. 

The  lowermoMt  rales  of  the  storied  iNavcoi 

Prom  thence  they  caa  view  the  world  betow, 

And  hearen's  blue  ^tes  with  sapphires  glov, 

More  gioty  yet  uonwct  to  know. 


field]  ipaik,  gtoy. 


cl)*d]  laalibed. 


I 


JAMES  HOGG 

They  borv  bet  &r  to  a  mouonio  gRcn, 
To  «cc  what  mortal  oewr  had  Men ; 
And  tlwy  Mated  her  high  on  a  purple  sward, 
And  bocle  her  heed  what  she  »w  and  brard. 
And  nixe  the  changes  the  apints  wrooghl, 
For  now  the  Ihtd  in  the  laixl  of  ihottghL 
She  look'd,  and  ihe  uw  oor  sun  nor  ikin. 
But  a  crystal  donic  of  a  thoaund  djres: 
She  look'd,  and  she  saw  nae  land  an;[ht. 
But  an  endless  whirl  of  glory  and  light  i 
And  radiant  beings  went  and  ciune. 
Far  swifter  than  wind,  or  the  linkid  flame. 
She  hid  ber  e'en  frac  the  dazzling  viewj 
She  took'd  agai^  and  the  kcdc  was  new. 

She  law  a  s«a  on  a  sununer  Af, 

And  clouds  oT  amber  sailing  bye; 

A  lovely  land  beneath  her  Iiy, 

And  that  land  had  gtcn»  and  mountnns  gny; 

And  that  land  had  valleys  and  hoflry  pilejt, 

And  marltd  tens,  and  a  thousand  isln. 

It*  fields  were  speckkd,  its  fotcsta  green, 

And  its  likes  were  ull  of  the  dauJtng  shrni, 

Lille  nugic  mnron,  where  slumberinj;  by 

The  SUB  and  the  sky  and  the  cloudlet  gray; 

Which  beared  and  trembled,  and  gently  swung, 

Ob  every  shore  they  stcm'd  to  be  hong; 

For  there  ibcy  were  seen  on  tlietr  downward  plain 

A  thousand  times  and  a  thousand  again; 

In  winding  lake  and  pbdd  firth, 

Little  peaceful  heaiens  in  the  bosom  of  emh. 


I  *«tt<gatcd,  puii-eolMKd. 


JAMES  HOGG 


Kilmay  ik^WA  and  Kcin'd  to  grinw. 

Pot  ^e  round  hiT  lieart  to  that  bnd  did  ckare! 

She  Mw  the  com  ware  oq  tlie  ralt^. 

She  MW  the  liter  run  down  the  dak ; 

Sht  ixvr  the  plaid  and  the  broad  claymore. 

And  tbc  brows  ttut  ihc  bwlgc  of  rrcrdom  boxri 

And  she  thought  she  had  sttn  ibe  knd  bcCot*. 

She  saw  a  Udy  ut  on  a  throne. 
The  faiiMt  tixu,  ever  the  sun  shone  on  1 
A  lion  lick'd  hci  hand  of  milk, 
And  she  held  htm  ia  u  Icish  of  silk ; 
And  a  Icifu'  maiden  stood  at  hci  kow^ 
With  a  silvci  waod  and  mclties  e'ei 
Her  Mverdjtn  slucld  till  lore  stole  ia, 
And  poison'd  alt  the  fount  within. 

Then  a  gruff  untoward  bcdctmaa  done, 

And  hundit  the  lion  on  his  danie  i 

And  thi:  gu^diaii  maid  wi'  the  dauotleM  e^^ 

She  dropji'd  a  tear,  and  left  her  knee ; 

And  she  saw  till  the  queen  frac  the  lion  fled, 

Till  the  bonniest  flower  of  the  world  lay  dead; 

A  coffin  Wits  set  on  a  dtauot  plain, 

And  she  siw  the  red  blood  fall  like  nuo ; 

Then  bonnic  Ktlnicny's  be^rt  gtcw  sail, 

And  she  tum'd  away,  and  could  look  nae  mair. 

Then  the  gruiF  grim  carle  gim'd  amain, 

And  they  trampled  him  down,  but  he  rose  agaiai 

And  he  baited  the  lioo  to  deeds  of  wdr. 

Till  he  lapp'd  the  Uood  to  the  kingdom  deart 


leifbl  lose,  wittfol. 
S0O 


eiin'd]  gtianed. 


«ci(]  *u. 


JAMES  HOGG 


And  wnaiog  his  bnd  wis  <laBgcr^<mf, 
When  cTovn'd  witli  the  roK  and  clon-r  leaf, 
He  ^wl'd  at  the  ctrlc,  mil  cIviKd  him  away 
To  feed  wi'  the  iket  oo  the  raountain  gn]r. 
He  go«rd  M  the  carle,  and  geck'd  U  Heat-cn, 
But  )in  mark  wn  set,  and  hi*  arlcs  given. 

ijineny  ■  whale  bcr  e'en  withdrew; 
She  look'd  t^a,  aad  llic  scene  was  new. 


She  uw  before  her  lair  uofurl'd 

One  half  of  all  the  glowing  worid, 

When  occana  roH'd,  tad  tmn  tin. 

To  boaad  dw  was  of  Rnfvl  man. 

Sbe  siw  a  people,  fierce  and  fell, 

Biffst  frae  their  bounds  Gke  liemU  of  hell  t 

There  lilies  pew,  and  the  eagle  fiewi 

And  sbe  bcrkM  oo  her  ranrntng  crew. 

Till  the  cities  and  towen  were  wrapp'd  in  a  btxte. 

And  the  thuoder  it  roorM  o'er  the  lands  and  the  wa*. 

"nie  vidows  they  waii'd,  and  the  red  blood  ran. 

And  sbe  thieatcn'd  ui  end  to  the  »c«  of  man ; 

She  never  lenod,  nor  stood  in  awe, 

"nil  ctughl  bj  the  lion's  deadly  paw. 

O,  ilwa  ibe  ea^  swiok'd  for  life, 

And  bntitzelfd  up  a  moetal  strife  t 

But  flew  sbe  north,  or  flew  sbe  south, 

Sbe  met  wi'  the  i;awl  o'  the  lion's  nMuih. 

With  a  RMOied  wing  and  waclti'  macn, 

Tbe  eagle  sought  her  eiry  again; 

But  laog  may  sbe  cower  in  her  hloody  nest, 

And  ling,  ling  sitek  her  wounded  breast. 

({loat'd]  howlcil,  crawled.  atln!  moMj  pofa)  on  urlkinf[  i 

bat^pda ;  Vf.  a  hcatn^.  lencd]  citiUi:ii«I.         swiali'd]  UbowcJ. 

• 'IdJ  Mined,  b«t.  moottd]  monlted. 


JAMES  HOGG 


BcfoK  tix  xy  another  ftight. 

To  pliy  wi'  the  norland  lion'*  might. 

But  to  siag  the  sighu  Kilmcny  nw, 

So  far  surpaising  nature's  liw, 

The  nof;er*>  voice  wad  ndIc  tinj, 

Atut  the  nriftg  of  his  harp  wad  ceaie  lo  jihy. 

But  tite  uw  til]  the  torrowi  of  m-in  wrre  t>je. 

And  all  was  love  anil  liartnonyi 

'nil  Uie  Stan  of  hraven  fell  calmly  away, 

Like  flakes  of  snaw  oq  a  winter  day. 

Thrn  Kilmcny  bcgg'd  again  to  »et 

Tlic  fiieodt  she  had  left  in  her  own  couniryet 

To  tell  of  tlie  place  where  abe  had  been, 

And  the  glories  that  lay  is  ilie  land  unteen; 

To  wain  ilic  li»ing  maidens  fair, 

The  loved  of  Heaven,  the  pints'  care, 

That  all  whose  minds  unmelcd  rnuain 

Shidl  bloom  in  txuuly  when  time  b  gue. 

With  distant  muiic,  nofc  and  deep^ 

They  Idl'd  Kilmeny  K>und  o-sli-cji; 

And  when  she  awnkcn'd,  the  lay  her  lane, 

All  happ'd  with  flowers,  in  Oie  greeo-wood  wenetil 

When  aeiYTi  lang  years  had  come  and  fled, 

Whtn  grief  was  calm,  and  hope  was  dead ; 

Wii'o  scarce  was  rememher'd  KUmeny's  name. 

Late,  late  in  a  gloamin'  Kilnteny  came  bame ! 

And  0,  her  beauty  was  fair  to  Ke, 

But  still  and  steadfast  wax  her  e'e! 

Such  beauty  bctrd  may  orver  decbre. 

For  there  wa^  no  pride  nor  passion  there; 

nnmelcil]  nnbktBUfctd.  h«t  Ime]  alnor,  b] 


htnclf. 


JAMES  HOGG 


And  the  «ofl  dnm  of  nutdm's  c'co 

In  ihat  mild  face  could  never  be  ttm. 

Her  seynur  wsb  ihe  Hly  flower, 

And  her  dieek  ilie  moM-rene  in  the  shower; 

And  her  Toice  like  the  dlMant  mclodyc, 

That  ftoua  along  tbe  twilight  «ea. 

Bui  »he  loved  to  raike  the  lanely  ^n, 

And  kecpM  aiiir  frac  the  luiuots  of  men  | 

HcT  lioly  bymas  uitliesrd  to  sing, 

To  wck  the  Aowefs,  and  drink  the  sfviq^- 

Bui  wherever  her  p»eeAil  fonn  ippeof'd, 

The  wild  ba*U  o(  the  liill  were  cbcer'd ; 

The  wolf  play'd  biytliljt  round  the  field. 

The  lordly  bpon  low'd  ind  kncel'd; 

The  dua  deer  voo'd  with  manner  bland. 

And  Gower'd  anealh  liet  lily  hand. 

And  when  u  enn  the  vondlands  rung, 

When  hymiM  of  other  worlds  she  lung 

In  ecstasy  of  sweet  dcvotioa, 

O,  then  the  glen  was  all  in  motioti! 

Tlie  wild  bcisa  of  the  fareM  came, 

Broke  from  their  bughts  and  faulds  the  tame. 

And  govcd  aroufxl,  charm'd  and  amaicd ; 

Erea  the  dull  c^ilc  cn>on'd  and  gazed, 

And  nwnnuf'd  and  look'd  with  anxious  pain 

For  mnethBig  the  myficry  to  ex|<latn. 

The  bwoard  came  with  the  ihronie-cock : 

Th«  eorby  left  her  houf  in  ilic  rock  i 

The  blackbird  aUng  wi'  the  eagk  flew ; 

The  hind  cante  tripping  o'er  the  dew ; 

ymnl^eynm,  a  (Ilcfal  coveriof.  ralke]  ruise,  vandcr. 

jbu]  nilklns-pea*.  S^*e<l]  (tared,  pad.  tealiy]  ramii 

bonT]  hiunl. 


JAMES  HOGG 

The  wolf  and  the  kid  their  raike  began, 
And  tlie  tod,  and  the  larob,  and  the  lereret 
The  hawk  and  the  hem  attonr  them  hung, 
And  the  merle  and  the  maris   forhooy'd  thei 
And  all  in  a  peaceful  ring  were  huri'd ; 
It  was  like  an  eve  in  a  sinless  world ! 
When   a  month  and  a  day  had  come  and  ga 
Kilmcny  sought  the  green-wood  wene ; 
There  laid  her  down  on  the  leaves  sae  gieei 
And  Kilmeny  on  earth  was  never  mair  seen. 
But  O,   the  w'ords  that  Cell  from  her  mouth 
Were  words  of  wonder,  and  words  of  truth 
But  all  the  land  were  io  fear  and  dread, 
For  they   kendna  whether  she  was  living  or 
It  wasna  her  hamc,   and   she  couldna  remain  j 
She  left  this   world  of  sorrow  and  pain, 
And  return 'd  to  the  land  of  thought  again. 

WTLLIAM  WORDSWORTH 


WILLIAM  WORDSWORTH 

Upon  ihe  looon  I  &x'd  my  cjk, 

Ail  om  the  wide  Im) 

With  ({uickeiiing  face  mjr  bone  drew  nigh 

Those  juilia  m  dear  Ui  me. 

And  now  we  roch'd  the  orclunl-plM; 
And,  a>  we  dimb'd  the  hill, 
The  sinking  laoon  to  Lucy'i  cot 
Came  near  aod  nearer  Kill. 

In  one  of  those  sweet  drcvus  1  sleji*. 
Kind  Nature's  gcntlert  boon! 
And  all  the  while  my  eyv»  I  kept 
On  the  desccoding  mooa. 

My  horac  moved  ont    hoof  afwr  Koof 
He  nistd,  nd  oceer  Btopp'di 
Whca  down  behind  the  cotuge  coof, 
At  ooce,  the  bright  tnooo  dropp'd. 

What  food  ud  urayward  thoughts  will  slide 

Into  a  loTcr's  head! 

*  0  mercy ! '  to  mytclf  I  cried, 

'If  Lucy  should  be  dradl' 


ritf. 


OHE  dwelt  among  the  untrodden  ways 
*^     Betide  the  »pring«  of  Dove. 
A  Maid  whom  there  were  nooe  to  praise 
And  tery  few  to  love : 

A  Tiolet  by  a  mosay  stotw 

Half  hidden  from  the  eye ! 
Fair  as  a  st^tr,  when  only  «oe 

Is  shining  in  the  sky. 


WILLIAM  WORDSWORTH 

Slie  lived  unknown,  and  fev  could  kno 
When  Lucy  cusi'd  to  be ; 

Bui  she  is  in  lier  gratv,  and  <^ 
The  difference  to  me  1 


W7. 


T   TRAVELL'D  among  unknown  men, 
■*■      In  lands  beyond  the  sea  j 
Nor,  England  1   did  I  know  till  ibtn 
What  love  I  bore  to  thee. 

Tia  past,  that  melancholy  dream ! 

Nor  will  I  quit  tiiy  shore 
A  second  time ;    for  still  I  seem 

To  lore  thee  more  and  more. 

Among  thy  mountains  did  I  feel 

The  joy  of  my  desire ; 
And  she  I  cherisli'd  tum'd  her  wheel 

Beside  an  English  fire. 


WILLIAM  WORDSWORTH 

*  Myself  will  to  my  darliag  be 
Both  law  and  inipilsie :  asd  with  nw 

"nie  fill,  in  rock  and  plain. 
Id  earth  aad  hcatcn,  in  gl.idc  and  bower. 
Shall  fwl  an  ovcncnng  power 
'I'a  kiodk  or  resiraia. 

'She  ihall  be  spodtTc  as  the  fawn 
That  wild  with  gtee  acrou  the  bwn 

Or  up  the  mountain  ifvinjs; 
Aod  hen  thtll  be  the  bsnihbg  balin, 
Aad  her«  the  itlcnce  and  the  calm 

Of  mute  inscRMie  things. 

■The  BoKdttfi  clouds  their  Mate  shall  ieoA 
To  her;    for  her  the  willow  bend; 

Nor  ^alJ  she  liu]  Co  see 
Eren  tn  tlie  motwris  of  the  «>arm 
Grace  that  shall  moold  the  maiden's  forin 

By  sleet  sTmptilhy. 

'  The  sun  of  nudnnibit  shall  be  dcu- 
To  ber;  and  she  shall  lean  her  ear 

In  many  a  secret  place 
Where  rifulcti  daooe  their  wayward  rogndf 
>  And  beauty  bocn  of  murrnuring  aoand 
Shall  pots  into  her  lacr. 

'Aod  vital  feeEi^  of  delight 

Shall  rear  her  form  to  stalely  height, 

Her  Ttrgin  boMcn  swell  i 
Such  thoughu  to  Lucy  I  -mSl  ^ve 
While  she  and  I  together  live 

Here  in  this  happy  dell.* 


WILLIAM  WORDSWORTH 

Thus  NaEure  spakt — The  work  was  daoe-— ^ 
How  soon  niy  Luci^'i  nee  vtta  nm  I 

She  died,  and  left  to  me 
Tbia  heath,  dus  calm  and  quiet  sccwi 
The  memory  of  whM  has  been, 

Aod  never  more  will  be. 


fip.  V 

A    SLUMBER  did  mj  ifarit  ted; 
■*^     I  bad  no  human  lean: 
She  seem'd  a  thing  that  coiild  r>ot  furl. 
The  touch  of  cnnhly  year^ 

No  motion  has  iJie  dov,  do  force  t 

She  neither  bean  not  sees; 
RoH'd  round  in  eanh't  diuniat  counci 

With  neks,  itnd  stones,  and  trees. 

^30.        Upon  IVestm'mster  Btitfge 

E^ARTH  h;ii  nut  unythcnf;  to  »how  more  &iri 
^     Dull  would  he  be  of  soul  who  could  fow  by. 

A  d^t  so  touching  in  its  aiajoty; 
I'hi.'C  City  now  doth  like  b  garment  wear 
The  bexuty  of  (he  morning;    silent,  hare, 

Shijis,  towers,  domta,  thcattes,  and  temples  lie 

Open  unto  the  liclds,  and  to  the  skyt 
All  bright  and  ^Uttering  in  the  unokeJess  ak. 
Never  did  sun  more  be>ulifu11y  steep 

In  his  first  splendour  valle}-,  rock,  or  tnDi 
Ne'er  saw  I,  ncwr  felt,  a  calm  so  deep! 

'riie  river  glidcth  at  hit  own  sweet  will: 
Dear  God !    the  ^ery  houses  teem  asleep  j 

And  all  thai  mighty  bean  is  lying  still  1 


WILLIAM  WORDSWORTH 


I 

I 


t£l,         £venmg  oa  Calah  Beach 

TT  b  >  beauteous  cYcoinj;,  calm  and  free, 

'     'llie  holy  time  is  quiet  u  «  Nod 
Rrc-athlew  wiih  ailoratioD;    tbe  b(o«l  ton 

Is  unking  down  in  iu  truHjolllity ; 

Thr  griMlcitcss  of  heaven  is  on  the  seat 
Liwen !    the  mighty  Being  ts  iwakc, 
And  doih  with  Ma  etcraa]  nootioa  nukr 

A  wund  like  thunder — cretUstin^ir. 

Dear  Child!    deu  GiH!    that  wnlkcst  with  nic  here, 
If  tboo  appnr  untooch'd  by  solemn  ihou^hCf 
Thy  uuuv  is  not  ihrrefore  less  divine: 

Thou  liesi  in  Abralia/n's  bosom  all  the  ytar  \ 
And  worahi]i'*U  at  tbc  Temple's  vdna  shrbe, 
God  being  with  thee  when  we  know  it  not. 

Xii.   On  tb^  Ext'wclim  of  the  f^eneiian 

£tpuilic,  1S02 

/^NCE  did  she  hold  the  ffxgetns  East  in  fee; 
^-^     Ai>J  was  the  safejtnard  of  tbe  West :  the  woitli 

Of  Venice  did  not  fall  below  her  binl^ 
Venice,  the  eldest  CbUd  of  Liberty. 
She  was  a  maiden  City,  bright  and  freet 

No  guile  scdnced,  no  force  could  violate  | 

Audi  wlm  tiiK  took  unto  hi^rself  a  mate, 
She  must  cspouw  the  ererlastbg  Sea. 
And  what  if  she  had  seen  tho«e  glories  tade. 

Those  tides  vaniih,  and  thai  «(imgtb  decay; 
Yet  shall  some  tribcnr  of  rrgrrt  be  paid 

When  her  long  life  hath  leach'd  its  find  day: 
Men  are  we,  and  must  giicvr  wliea  orrn  the  Shade 

Of  that  which  voce  was  givsi  is  [oss'd  away. 


WILLIAM  WORDSWORTH 


England,  tSoi 


o 


FRlE^a>l  I  know  Dot  which  way  I 
For  cORtfort,  being,  u  I  m,  o|i|>rat,J 

To  thiniL  that  now  our  life  is  only  dJeH 
Pot  &howi    mran  hflndjr-voric  of  craitsman,  cook. 
Or  groom! — Wc  taixit  ran  sUtttrinj;  like  a  brook 

In  Uie  open  suntJune,  or  wc  arc  unblett ; 

Tbc  wenlthicnt  mun  unotig  us  is  the  bettl ; 
No  graadeui  now  in  nature  or  in  book 
UclighU  us.     Ra^ane,  avarice,  expense, 

ThU  h  idolftiryi    and  ihcse  wc  actorc: 

Plain  living  and  high  thinking  irc  no  inorei 

The  homely  bcjuiy  of  the  good  old  caow 
Is  gODVi  our  peace,  our  fearliil  inoococe. 

And  jwt  religion  brcathiog  household  laws. 


I^ILTON! 


// 


tliou  shouldst  be  liiinji  at  tlm  heoi^ 
England  haih  need  of  thee :   she  is  i  fn 

Of  st^nunt  watera:  altar,  sword,  and  pen, 
Fimide,  the  heixiic  wealth  of  hall  and  bower, 
Hare  forfeited  their  ancient  English  dower 

Of  inward  happiness.     Wc  are  selfish  nwn; 

O  raise  ds  up,  return  to  us  kgain, 
And  give  ns  manners,  tiittie,  freedom,  powerl 
Thy  soul  WIS  like  a  Star,  and  dw«It  a|>an ; 

Thou  hadst  a  toice  whn«e  sound  was  like  the  Mf 

Pure  a*  the  naked  heavens,  majestic,  free. 

So  didst  thou  travel  on  life's  cnnunon  way, 
In  cheerful  godliness!    and  yet  thy  heart 

I'hc  lowliest  duties  on  herself  did  lay. 


WILLIAM  WORDSWORTH 


ui 

^  R 1:  AT  men  hat«  been  uaoog  us  \  huils  ihai  pcon'd 
^^     And  loo^ues  tbit  <Me^i  wisdom— better  none: 

The  Utrr  Sidney,  Mxtnl,  Kamngton, 
Young  Vane,  aod  oihen  who  cali'd  Miltoo  fnend. 
Thete  moralist*  could  »ct  and  compieheod: 

I         Tbey  koew  bow  grnuinc  glory  wu  put  oa\ 

\        Taught  ■>  how  rightfully  a  nation  sboac 

In  spkodnnri   what  smngth  was,  that  would  not  beid 
Sot  in  mognainmoas  mevkims.     France,  'tis  itninge, 
Hath  brought  fbfth  no  such  souls  as  we  lud  then. 

I     Perpetual  enptinew!   unceasing  cbinge! 

I         No  amgle  volume  paramount,  no  code, 

^ft    No  master  spirit,  ao  dctrminnl  road; 

^K  B«  equally  a  wa«  of  books  and  rotn  1 

TT  is  not  10  be  ibought  of  ihii  tlw  flood 

^      or  British  freedom,  which,  to  ihe  0{m  sea 

OF  the  wotld's  praise,  from  dork  antiquity 
Hath  flow'd,  'with  pomp  of  waim,  unwiihitood,'— 
RuuW  though  it  be  fiill  often  to  a  mood 

Which  ^«ms  the  check  of  salutary  bands, — 
'  That  ibis  mon  bmous  urcani  in  bogs  and  saods 

Should  pcrisli;   atxl  to  enl  and  to  good 
Be  lost  br  erer.     In  our  balls  is  bung 

Aimomy  of  the  tntincible  Knigbti  of  oJd : 
We  maai  be  &ee  or  die,  who  speak  the  tongue 

That  Slukc^ieare  spake;    the  faith  and  morals  hold 
Which  M^tOD  held. — la  ercrything  we  are  sprung 

Of  Earth's  first  bkrad,  bsic  titles  manifold. 


WILLIAM  WORDSWORTH 


S27.  V 

VVTHEN  I  have  borae  ia  menory  wbu  hsi 
**       Great  Nations,  bow  enooblittg  thoufpiu  dcpui 

When  mm  change  swords  for  ledgers,  and  desert 
The  studenc't  bower  (or  gold,  some  fearv  unniRwd 
I  h«d,  injr  Coantry — am  I  to  be  blamed? 

Now,  when  1  think  of  thee,  aad  what  thou  m. 

Verily,  in  the  boiuim  of  my  heart, 
Of  ibow  UBJilial  fears  I  am  xshanKd. 
For  deuly  mu»  we  prite  thee;   we  who  find 

In  thee  a  bulwark  for  the  cauae  of  men  [ 

And  [  by  my  affection  was  beguikd : 

Wfinc  wonder  if  a  Port  now  and  ibrn, 
Among  the  many  movcmcni^  of  his  mind, 

Fell  far  thee  as  t  loTer  or  *  cbiUI 


fj*.  Tif  So/iur/  Reaper 

DEHOLD  her,  single  in  the  lidd. 
^     Yon  solitary  Highland  Lns! 
Reapng  and  singing  by  henelft 

Stop  here,  or  jtetnJy  poHl 
Alone  ^e  cuts  and  binds  the  grain. 
And  singn  a  mehncholy  main ; 
O  listen  t    for  4e  Vxle  profound 
Is  orerflowing  with  the  aooul. 

No  Nightingale  did  ever  disant 

More  welcome  notn  to  weaty  band* 

Of  travellers  in  tonne  sJiady  haunt, 
Anion£  Arabian  sands: 


WILLIAM  WORDSWORTH 

A  *oic«  H>  thfitling  ne'cT  vna  hrvd 
In  ipring-tiinc  fiom  the  Ceckoo-biiil, 
fimkiRg  ibe  sitfncc  of  the  veu 
Among  the  futbm  Hcbrulcs. 

Wtl]  no  one  tet\  mc  what  sbe  ungif— 
Perhspa  the  pUintire  nunbere  How 

For  old,  unluppf,  fv-olT  thiogi, 
Apd  btulcs  king  ago: 

Or  is  it  some  tiMfc  huniblo  Uy, 

pjaiUiar  matter  of  to-day  ! 

Some  natunl  Mnow,  loss,  or  [wo. 

That  has  been,  and  may  be  again  f 

Whatc'er  the  theme,  the  Maiden  tang 
As  if  hn  twng  ijouM  hare  no  ending; 

1  uw  her  singing  u  her  woik, 
And  o'er  the  sickle  bending; — 

I  listen'd,  RMtiontns  ant)  nill ; 

And,  u  I  mounted  tip  tbe  hill, 

The  imutc  in  my  heut  I  boie, 

Long  after  it  was  heard  no  more 

Perfect  ff^oman 

CHE  was  a  [ihaiuoni  of  delist 

'^     When  fim  (he  gtnim'd  ofian  my  aigUt 

A  loKly  ipfaritioc,  scot 

To  be  a  oronMnt's  ontamcnt; 

Her  eyet  aa  Man  of  twilif;ht  fair; 

Lilie  ivili^'s,  too,  her  dusky  hur; 

But  all  things  ebe  about  her  drawn 

From  May>time  and  tb«  cheerful  dawn ; 

A  daDcing  shape,  an  image  gay. 

To  haunt,  to  ttante,  and  waylay. 


WILLIAM  WORDSWORTH 

I  nw  hcT  iqMM  nurtr  riew, 

A  Spirit,  yn  a  Woman  too  1 

Her  hoBMiJiold  motioBS  light  and  frn^ 

Aod  SWfs  of  vii^n  Ubntjr; 

A  oamuaaact  ia  which  did  meet 

Sweet  records,  promises  «s  swMii 

A  creature  not  too  bright  or  good 

For  hunMn  natuie's  d^iil/  food) 

For  traDsienc  Mrrou-t,  simple  viles, 

Pniie,  blamr,  love,  kisse*,  tevs,  and  snttln^ 

And  now  I  see  wih  eje  tcrviM 
The  wrf  pulse  of  the  machiae ; 
A  bcinf;  Imathing  tfaooghtful  breath, 
A  travdt«T  betwixt  life  and  death  i 
l^c  reason  firm,  the  temperate  wiU, 
Endaranoe,  foten^it,  strength,  and  skill  j 
A  prrfcct  Women,  ncbljr  plaon'd, 
To  mrn,  to  corafon,  and  conwiand  t 
And  yet  a  Spirit  still,  and  bright 
TOik  something  of  aagclic  light 


T  WANDER'D  lonely  as  a  cloud 

*■     That  floits  OB  lii^  o'er  i-alcs  «oA  hilU,' 

When  all  at  once  I  saw  a  crowd, 

A  host,  of  golden  daffixEls  i 
Betide  the  like,  beneath  the  lives, 
Fluttering  «nd  dancing  in  the  Ixeeze. 

Continuous  as  the  sun  tluit  shine 
And  twinkle  on  the  MiUcy  Way, 


WILLIAM  WORDSWORTH 

Tbcy  stntdi'd  m  Dcvrr-ciidbg  line 

Along  the  margiii  of  •  biy ; 
Ten  tbousaad  mw  I  u  a  glance, 
Toiriag  tbnr  beada  In  iprigbtly  <!ainc. 

The  mtM  beside  them  danced,  bin  thi-y 
Outdid  the  sparkling  wares  io  ^ect 

A  poet  could  not  but  be  gay, 
In  such  a  Jocund  company: 

I  fflxtA — and  gazed — but  Utde  ihoagkt 

n'hai  wealth  the  ahciw  to  me  had  branghti 

For  oft,  when  oa  my  couch  I  lie 

In  vacant  of  in  pensive  mood, 
Tbey  fla^  vpoa  that  invard  eye 

Which  la  the  bUu  of  toUtude  i 
And  then  my  hean  with  pleasure  fills. 
And  dances  with  the  daHbdUa. 


^ 


fSt.  OJe  to  'Dulf 

CTERN  Dancbier  of  Uk  Voice  of  God  I 

•^     O  D«y !    if  that  name  thou  loie, 

Who  art  a  light  to  guide,  a  rtKl 

To  check  the  erring  and  lepoTc; 

Thau,  who  art  viaory  and  law 

When  empty  tcrrora  ortrawe; 

Prom  Tain  lemptations  doat  set  frve; 

And  calm'st  tbe  weary  strife  of  fiul  humaaitjrl 

There  ore  who  ask  not  if  thine  eye 
Be  OD  them;   who,  tn  lore  aod  truth, 
Where  no  misgiiiog  is,  rely 
Upon  the  geeoal  tenie  of  yiMths 


WILUAM  WORDSWORTH 

Glad  beansi   wiibout  reproadi  or  bloii 

Who  do  thjr  work,  and  know  it  oK : 

0,  if  through  awGdeaoe  imiplaced 

Tlicy  fail,  thy  Hviog  mat,  dfcad  Power  I  around  dwm 


m 


Serene  will  be  our  Aafi  and  brislit, 

And  happjr  will  our  nature  be, 

When  love  i«  an  unerring  li{>ht, 

And  joy  ha  own  ^eculity, 

And  ihcy  a  bliwful  course  may  hold 

LvTen  now,  who,  not  unwisely  bold, 

Lire  ia  the  ^lit  of  this  cited ; 

Yet  seek  thy  fiim  support,  according  to  that  need. 

I,  loving  freedom,  and  untrinl ; 

No  sport  of  cTcry  random  gwt, 

Yet  baag  lo  inp:lf  a  guide, 

Too  blindJy  hurc  repowd  my  tnisi : 

And  oft,  when  in  my  heart  was  heard 

Thy  timely  maQdatc,  I  dcfcrr'd 

The  task,  in  smoother  ualks  to  strsy; 

But  thee  I  now  would  serve  more  stricOy,  tf  I 

Through  no  distiubaoce  of  my  wul, 

Or  strong  compunctioo  ia  me  wrought, 

I  supplicate  for  thy  cootrol ) 

Bat  in  the  ({uietneaK  of  thought. 

Me  this  uticharter'd  freedom  tirris} 

1  HkI  the  weight  of  cbBnc«>desiKS; 

My  lio]>cs  no  more  inu»  change  tbeif  name^ 

I  bog  for  a  tepow  tliat  ercr  a  the  lamc 

Yet  not  the  !es«  would  1  throLghoct 
Still  act  accoidir^  to  the  roice 
M 


WILLIAM  WORDSWORTH 

)l  tny  own  wbhj    ud  ftd  pan  doubt 
rhat  my  suhnunuTeam  was  dioaoej 

on  xeluDg  ID  the  idiool  of  pride 

or  'preocpu  over  digntlied,' 
Dial  md  restraiai  I  priu 

o  hnbtr  than  tbcy  breed  a  second  Will  more  wije. 

Jtem  LiwgiTer!   jet  thou  dott  wear 
^be  (iodbc;uJ't  most  bcoagauit  pnexi 
or  knov  we  anythini;  so  fair 
11  tlw  wnife  upoa  thy  face: 
lowcre  laugh  before  ihec  on  tltdr  brdt, 
od  fragrance  in  thy  Tooting  treads; 

<fe«  ynttm  the  tiars  frora  wrong; 
■d  the  nott  aaaaoL  bencas,  ihroqgh  Tbec^  xt  fresh  lod 
aroog. 

To  hnmblet  functions,  iwrd  Power! 
P  call  diee :   1  mjaelf  conuaeDd 
Unto  thy  guidaBee  fnm  tbis  bourt 
D,  let  in^  weuknest  bare  an  end ! 
Cive  nnto  me,  made  lowly  witc, 
PlM  afirtt  of  tdf-Eicrifioe ; 
Fhr  coofidrnee  of  reason  give; 
And  ia  the  light  of  truth  thy  boedman  let  me  lire! 

f33.  Tie  Seinh&w 

\A  Y  heart  leaps  up  wlien  I  heboid 
^"*     A  rainbow  b  the  »kyi 
So  WB9  it  when  my  life  began: 
So  is  it  now  I  am  a  man  \ 
So  be  it  when  I  shall  grow  oU, 
Or  let  roc  die  1 


WILLIAM  WORDSWORTH 

The  CMld  »  Mtct  of  tlic  Msq  i 
And  I  could  with  Bi<r  diys  to  be 
Boond  each  to  each  by  nuaral  petjr* 

T6f  Somet 

^UNS  frrt  Dot  tit  their  cotiTCOt's  narrow  luom; ' 
^^     And  hcmuts  «re  coouoKd  with  their  ceUi, 

Aad  Kudeou  with  tbclr  pensive  dtadebt 
Maids  n  the  wheel,  the  wearer  at  his  loum. 
Sit  blithe  «nd  bappy;   bees  that  loai  for  bic 
High  u  the  bJghnt  prak  of  Fnrnesi  fcDs, 
Will  murmur  by  llw  hour  in  foxgtore  bcPs; 
Id  With  the  piiflO«i  unto  which  we  doom 
OtitKlTes  no  priwo  is;    and  lienor  for  me. 
In  nmdiy  moods,  'twas  pastime  lo  be  bound 
Withia  the  Soanet's  scanty  plot  of  groand ; 
Pkawd  if  some  souli  (for  such  there  needs  must  be) 
Who  hare  fck  the  weight  of  too  much  tibeity, 
Should  lind  brief  solace  there,  u  I  have  faiuid. 


Si  4-  " 

CCORN  not  die  Soniut;  Critic,  yon  hate  frownU 
"     Micdleu  of  its  Just  honours ;  with  this  key 

Sliakcspruc  imlock'd  hts  heart ;  the  mdody 
Of  tlus  small  low  gave  ease  lo  Petrarch's  wccnd) 
A  thousand  (imn  this  {^pc  did  TaMo  soand; 

With  it  Camoeos  sooth'd  an  exile's  grief; 

The  Sonnet  glitter*d  a  gay  myrtle  kaf 
Amid  the  cypress  with  which  Dante  cfown'd 
Hb  mionary  brow:   a  glow-wonn  lamp, 

It  chc«f*d  mild  Spenser,  cali'd  fiom  Fatsylaad 
dm 


WILLIAM  WORDSWORTH 


r 

^0*0  (Unggle  thraofb  dsrk  iraysi  wxl  when  a  daniji 
^f   Fell  rouad  the  path  of  Milton,  io  hb  hmd 
^^Thc  Thing  became  a  uumfct;   whence  he  Uew 
Soul-animating  wraixii— *l>i)  too  few  1 


I 


Tsr- 


The  IVorU 


* 


"T^HIZ  world  is  too  much  with  ut;    late  and  soon, 
^       Getting  and  spending,  we  lay  wutc  ouf  powers : 
'     Little  we  M«  ia  Nature  that  b  oufa: 
We  hare  gittti  oar  brans  away,  a  MrdJd  booa! 
Tfaii  )ca  that  bares  Ikc  boooni  lu  ilie  moon; 
The  windi  that  will  be  howling  at  all  hours, 
And  are  iij>-gaiher'd  now  like  »ieetqng  downs; 
For  tht*,   for  evcryihing,   we  uc  out  of  tnnei 
t  tnovw  us  DOC — Great  God !    I'd  oth«  he 
A  P^gan  suckled  in  a  creed  outwotn; 
might  I,  staodiog  on  ihia  pkasaoi  In^ 
ilavc  glimpses  that  would  nuke  nic  less  forloni; 
ve  sight  of  Proteus  riuiig  fiwn  (lie  tica  \ 
Or  hear  old  Triton  blow  his  wreathid  horn. 


[Tirf- 


Ode 


hllmatioai  ef  Immorla&lj  /mm   RttalltttiMu  tjf 

^HERE  was  a  time  when  meadow,  grave,  and  stiraio, 
Tbe  eaitfa,  and  ewy  coninion  tight. 
To  me  did  srcm 
Apparell'd  in  cclesnal  light, 
gloiy  and  the  firahness  of  a  drtaBL. 

X  tot 


WILLIAM  WORDSWORTH 

It  is  oot  now  as  [t  hatb  been  of  yoret — 
Turn  whwesoe'er  I  nwy, 
By  night  M  d»y, 
'{"he  ihtrgf  which  I  hare  seen  I  now  on  we 


no 


The  rainbow  comes  and  goes, 

And  \mely  is  tJic  twej 

The  moon  doth  with  delight 
L«ok  round  hei  when  Die  hcavcu  an  ban.-) 

Waters  on  ■  surry  nifht 

Are  Wutirnl  and  fairg 
The  sunshine  is  ■  glorious  birth ; 
But  yet  I  know,  where'er  I  go, 
3*hat  there  luih  piss'd  away  a  gloiy  from  tlie  eanh. 

Now,  while  the  birds  tbtts  siog  a  joyous  sooj, 
And  while  the  young  limbs  bovsd 
As  to  t)ie  tabor's  sound, 
To  nw  jiooc  tlicrc  came  a  thought  of  grief: 
A  timely  utterance  give  tlui  tho^bt  relief, 

And  1  again  am  strong: 
The  cataracts  blow  their  trumpets  from  the  sleep  i 
No  more  shall  grief  of  mine  the  sesson  wrong; 
I  hear  ilir  echoes  through  the  mountains  throng, 
Tlie  winds  come  to  me  from  tlir  fields  of  sleep, 
And  alt  tlic  earth  is  ipyi 
Land  and  sea 
Gii'e  themselves  up  to  }oJlity, 

And  with  the  heart  of  May 
Doth  every  beast  keep  holiday;— 
Thou  Child  of  Joy, 
Shout    round    me,    let    me    bear    thy   shouts,    ihott 
Shepherd -boy ! 


WILLIAM  WORDSWORTH 

fc  blcioM  crtaUiret,  1  hive  brud  the  call 

Y«  to  cKh  otl>rr  make;    I  tux 
The  hoTtor  laugh  whli  you  io  ygur  jiibiint 
My  bnn  is  u  your  frwivAl, 
My  bead  haUt  its  coraiu), 
The  fullness  of  yoiu  bliss,  I  feci— I  fed  it  all. 
O  evil  <Uyl    if  I  were  nillm 
While  Earth  hcnclf  is  MkHsing, 

This  Ewcct  MayffloitiiBg, 
And  the  children  ut  culling 

Oo  every  side, 
In  a  tbcMnand  valleys  far  and  wide, 
Fresh  dowers  i   while  the  sun  shines  warm, 
And  the  babe  leaps  up  on  hb  mother's  arm:  — 
^K  I  hear,  I  hear,  with  Joy  I  hear  I 

^H  — Bvi  tlieic  's  a  tree,  of  many,  orte, 

^■A  tingle  lield  which  I  have  look'd  upon, 
^both  of  tlMiD  sfcak  of  something  thu  is  sotMi 
J^f  The  pmy  at  my  feet 

^^  Dotli  tlie  same  tale  repeat: 

Whithct  is  tted  the  Tuiaoary  gkamf 
When  b  h  now,  the  gtory  aixl  the  dnaua? 


)iir  binh  »  bat  a  Bleep  aitd  a  forgetting  i 
Sottl  that  rises  wttli  us,  out  life's  Star, 
Hath  had  elsew^ieie  its  setting, 

And  oometh  from  a&r: 
Not  to  entire  forgeitiilness. 
And  not  in  oner  lukcdnrts, 
But  tniliag  cknds  of  glory  do  we  come 
Prom  God,  who  n  out  home: 
leaven  Bea  about  us  in  out  iofiucyl 


ta 


WILLIAM  WORDSWORTH 

Shides  of  the  priwn-lioust  hcgia  to  clow; 

Upon  tite  firowing;  Boy, 
But  be  beKolib  the  li}>kl,  and  whence  it  floors, 

He  9crs   it  in  his  joy; 
The  Youth,  who  duly  farther  from  the  cast 
Musi  tranl,  itill  is  Nature's  priest, 
And  by  the  nsion  splendid 
Is  on  his  wny  attended ) 
At  length  the  Miin  prrcciies  it  die  awiiy. 
And  fade  tnio  the  light  of  common  day. 

Earth  lUli  her  \xf  with  pleamrcs  of  her  ownt 
Yearoirtgs  she  hatli  in  her  own  Dttaral  kind. 
And,  even  with  Mmctiiing  of  n  mother's  muBd, 
And  no  unworthy  aiii, 

The  homely  nurw  doth  all  slve  can 
To  make  her  foster-child,  her  inmate  Mu, 

Forget  the  glories  he  hath  known. 
And  that  u»pcri^  palace  whence  be  ome. 

Behold  the  Child  arrMog  his  new-born  hisses, 
A  six  years'  darling  of  a  pigmy  siie ! 
Sec,  where  *mid  work  of  his  own  hand  he  Itn, 
Frmed  by  sallies  of  hia  mother's  kisio, 
Vrt\h  light  upon  him  from  his  father's  Dyes! 
See,  at  bis  feet,  soine  little  plan  or  chart. 
Some  fragment  ftum  his  dream  of  hnnam  life, 
Shaped  hy  himself  with  newly-Ienrntd  art  i 

A  wedding  or  a  fesiiTat, 

A  mourning  or  n  fii&cralt 

And  tlus  hath  now  his  heart, 

And  onto  this  he  frames  his  song: 
Then  will  he  &l  his  tongue 
To  dialogues  of  business,  lore,  or  striict 
fill 


WILLIAM  WORDSWORTH 

But  it  mil  not  be  long 

Ere  tliM  be  ilitovn  avide, 

And  with  DCw  joy  snd  fiide 
The  little  actor  cons  anotlier  |iuti 
Killing  from  time  to  time  his  'hniDoretu  Kage' 
With  >i\  the  PcTMOs,  down  to  pokied  Age, 
That  Litr  bctngv  with  bcr  in  her  c^ipge; 

As  if  his  whole  vocslioa 

Were  eodlos  imiution. 


Thou,  whose  exterior  semblance  doth  belie 

Thy  wmI's  tramensityf 
Thou  ben  pUIosopher,  who  yet  dost  keep 
Thy  heritage,  thou  eye  among  the  blind. 
That,  deaf  and  slent,  read'st  the  etcmal  deep, 
HnuMcd  for  era  by  tlie  eternal  mind, — 

Mighty  pTOfJwtl    Serf  blest  I 

On  whom  tliose  troths  do  rest. 
Which  u-e  are  toiling  all  out  Uves  to  find, 
lo  daifcaeu  lost,  the  d.irkiitr«i  of  the  gni-ei 
Tboo,  oter  whom  thy  Imtnon^ility 
Broods  like  the  Day,  a  master  o'er  a  iIjvc, 
A  poeoce  vhich  is  not  to  be  put  by; 

To  whom  the  grave 
It  bat  a  ioocly  bed  wtihoui  the  tense  or  sight 

Of  d^y  or  the  warm  light, 
A  {dace  of  iboof^t  where  we  in  waiting  Ke; 
Thca  btfe  Child,  yet  glorioos  in  the  night 
Of  liearen*bom  fnedom  on  thy  being's  height. 
Why  with  mch  cmxsi  point  dost  thou  poroke 
The  jean  to  bring  the  inevitable  yoke, 
I'htxs  Uiadly  with  thy  Ucssedaess  ai  strife  f 
•uU  soon  thy  soul  shall  hate  faer  evthly  freight, 


WILLIAM  WORDSWORTH 


And  ciBtom  lie  upon  dice  with  ■  weight, 
Heaty  »  frost,  and  deep  atraost  »t  life! 

O  joy  I    that  ia  ovr  einbera 
Is  soineUung  that  doth  lire, 
That  Dtture  yet  nmenJtten 
What  va  so  fugidrel 
Tbt  thought  of  our  pm  yean  in  roe  doth 
PMpctnsI  benediction:    not  iadecd 
For  that  irhich  is  mo4t  wonhj  to  be  blest- 
Delight  and  liberty,  tlw  simple  creed 

Of  childhood,  wheclm  busy  or  at  rest,  

With  new-Hedged  lioj^  uill  Baamag  b  his  ImmI 
Not  for  time  I  raise 
The  song  of  thAnki  and  prase; 
But  for  thoM  obsiiniKc  ^urslJDdngs 
Of  sense  and  outward  things, 
Falling?  frnm  ns  vanwhiogs; 
Blnnk  mifgiTirgs  of  a  Creature 
MoTing  about  in  worlds  not  realized. 
High  instincts  before  which  our  eional  Natni* 
Did  tremble  like  a  gnilty  thing  sorptisedi 
But  for  those  lirst  aflectioaa, 
Those  tiudowy  recollections, 
Wbtch,  be  they  what  they  may, 
Are  yet  the  fountain-light  of  all  onr  day, 
Are  yet  a  ma.'itcr-light  of  all  ovr  seetag  i 
Uphold  us  chcri^i,  and  hare  power  lo  nuke 
Out  nonsy  years  seem  moments  in  the  being 
Of  the  eternal  Silence  t   trtiihs  that  wake^ 

To  pnish  nc»tr! 
Which  neither  listlesscess,  nor  mad  endrarour. 
Nor  Man  nor  Boy, 


■  WILLIAM  WORDSWORTH 

^BMot  all  that  b  u  cmnitjr  with  jojr, 
Can  ttttnly  attolbh  or  ititmy ! 

^Hmce  in  a  waion  of  calm  weatlKf 
Though  ialaod  lar  we  be, 
soul*  have  sight  of  thJt  tmrnoful  o-a 
Which  brought  u*  hnhcr, 
Can  in  a  monwnt  travel  ihitlicr. 
And  m  the  childrcQ  »pon  u|Mn  the  ihon. 
Ami  lw»  the  mighty  wuets  rolliog  eTtrrmore. 

Then  fing,  ye  httct«,  sing,  sing  a  joyous  song  I 

rAnd  W  the  youag  Utnhs  bound 
As  to  the  ubor's  sound  t 
e  in  thocRht  will  join  your  tJiroog, 
Ye  ihiit  pipe  and  ye  Uiai  play, 
Ye  (hat  thiitM^b  your  hcarrs  to-day 
Feel  the  gladness  of  the  May ! 
What  though  the  radiance  which  was  once  so  bright 
fie  now  for  erer  Uken  from  my  sight, 

Though  iiotbiitg  can  bring  back  the  hour 

Ipf  5|4ni(lour  in  the  gran,  of  gfory  in  the  Oowei; 
Wc  wiD  grie«  not,  rather  find 
[  Stmtgth  io  what  remains  bchioJ; 

[  In  the  prtnu]  sytnikUhy 

I  Whk-h  having  been  m«K  c>er  be; 

In  the  soodugg  tbovgbis  that  spring 
I  Out  of  hanan  suilVriag  t 

I  In  the  faith  iliat  boks  throc^  dmth, 

In  yean  that  bring  the  plulotophic  mind. 
And  0  ye  Fountahis,  Mndows,  Hills,  and  Grovr^ 
Forebode  not  any  Mrettng  of  Our  totes ! 
Vet  in  my  hrvt  of  hearts  I  feel  your  might  t 
t  luie  rdini{uish'd  one  delight 


WILLIAM  WORDSWORTH 


To  lire  brnnih  your  more  habitud  sway. 
1  loTc  ibf  brooks  wlitcli  down  their  dunnda  fitt, 
Ercn  more  iban  when  I  tr^pM  lighdj  as  They  i 
Thv  ionoccnt  brighincM  of  a  oev-bora  Day 

Is  lovely  yctt 
The  clouds  that  gather  round  tlie  setting  suo 
Do  uke  a  sober  colouring  from  an  eye 
That  hath  kept  watch  o'er  man's  mtmalityi 
Another  race  hath  bern,  and  other  plms  arv  won. 
Thanks  to  ihe  human  hcan  by  which  we  liie, 
Thaoks  10  its  tenderness,  tie  joys,  and  fears. 
To  inc  the  nieanesi  flower  that  blows  can  pit 
Tliouglits  that  do  afEeo  lie  too  deep  for  trtfS, 


nr. 


Z>fJi(/ena 


CURPRISED  by  joy^impaticnt  as  the  Wind 

^     I  turned  to  share  the  transport — O  t    with  whom 

But  Thee,  deep  buried  in  tlie  silent  tonit\ 
That  spot  uhtch  no  vicissitude  can  find? 
Love,  faithful  lore,  rvcall'd  thee  to  my  nund — 

But  how  could  t  forget  thee  ?    Through  what 

Eren  for  the  Irsst  diiision  of  an  hour, 
Have  I  bccR  so  beguiled  as  to  be  blind 
To  my  most  grievous  loss? — That  ihougbtV  irtum 

Was  tlie  worst  pang  ihai  sorrow  trtr  bore, 
Sive  one.  one  only,  when  I  stood  foclom. 

Knowing  my  heart's  best  treasure  was  no  nKwe; 
That  neither  present  time,  nor  years  unborn 

Coiitd  to  my  sight  that  heavenly  face  restcn. 


0^ 


I 


WILLIAM  WORDSWORTH 


/ji.  yaleJictory  Semtet  to  the  River  ©««Ww 


T   THOUGHT  tA  Tbcc,  my  partner  *ad  my  guide, 
*      As  being  pnta'd  away. — Vjun  sympadiiM! 

Par,  backwani,  IhidiloBl    u  I  ca»  my  vyo, 
I  Me  whtc  was,  and  b,  aad  will  abide; 
St3t  {lidn  the  Strcun,  and  shall  for  ever  glide; 

The  Form  ranaiiis,  die  Funciioo  ncrer  dies; 

While  wc,  the  brare,  the  raiglily,  and  the  wiv, 
We  Mn>,  who  id  oar  mom  of  youth  defied 
The  eJeinents,  mnsi  vanish; — be  it  w! 

Enough,  if  sooKthiBg  from  our  haiMls  hate  power 

To  lite,  ai>d  act,  and  serre  the  Inlure  hour; 
And  if,  as  lowird  the  silnit  totnb  wc  go,  fdowcr, 

Tbroagh  lore,  thnxtgh  hope,  and  faith's  iransccr^enl 
Wc  iicel  that  wc  a4«  greater  than  uv  know, 

Sig.  Mutability 

I^ROM  law  to  high  doth  di.iMlution  climh. 
*•      And  sink  from  high  to  low,  along  a  Kile 

Of  awfiil  notes,  whose  coocord  shall  not  &il ; 
A  muncal  but  melancholy  chime, 
Which  tbey  can  twar  who  meddle  not  with  crtRtr, 

Nor  avatice,  noe  over-anxions  cart. 

Tnith  bila  not;    but  her  outward  fomts  that  bear 
1^  knigCK  due  do  melt  like  ftotty  lirae. 
That  ia  ih«  raornmg  whiten'd  hill  and  plain 
And  is  no  moret   dmp  tike  the  tover  tiublirae 

Of  yesterday,  which  royally  did  wear 
His  cittwn  of  weed*,  but  could  not  txva  tutaiD 

Some  cuual  thout  thu  bii^c  the  nleoi  air, 
)r  the  unimaginable  touch  of  'Hitic. 


WILLIAM  WORDSWORTH 

f40.  The  Trosachs 

'X'HERE's  not  a  nook  within  thij  loleran  Pas* 
''      But  were  ui  apt  conl'eu>ion;il  for  one 

Taii£bt  by  hi*  lummcr  spent,  Kis  antuma  gone, 
Thxt  Life  is  but  a  talc  of  morning  gnuf 
WitlKT*!!  m  vtv.     I-'rom  iccDcs  of  nrt  whicli  vhiv 

That  thouglii  awk/,  luni,  and  with  wMchfnl  ryvs 

F««l  it  'mid  Naiurt's  old  fdicitin, 
Rocks,  rims,  and  «nooth  lakes  more  dear  tlan  ^las] 
Umouch'd,  unbmitbed  upon.     Thrice  happy  quest, 

If  from  a  golden  perch  of  aspen  spray 

(October's  workmanihip  to  rival  May) 
Tlw  pensile  warUcr  of  the  ruddy  bmst 

That  moral  sn'teren  by  a  hesiien-uughl  Uy, 
Lulling  tho  year,  with  all  its  cares,  to  rest! 


S4t.  Sfeak  I 

VVTIIY  art  thou  sileat!     Is  thy  tore  a  jilant 
**      Of  such  weak  libre  ibit  iJii-  treaebertws  air 

Of  absence  withers  what  was  once  so  fair? 
Is  there  nu  debt  to  pay,  no  boon  to  grant  \ 
Yet  hare  my  thoughts  for  thee  been  vi^lant— 

Bound  to  thy  service  with  unceuing  care, 
The  mind's  lout  generous  wi&h  B  inrndicant 

Tor  naught  but  what  thy  happinna  could  spare. 
Speik—tbough  this  soft  wann  heart,  once  free  to  ho 

A  tbouund  tcodi-r  pleasures,  thine  aad  rmoe, 
Be  left  more  desolate,  nioie  dreary  cold 

Than  a  forsaken  bird's-ncst  GD'd  with  snow 

'Mid  ita  owQ  bu^h  uf  leaHess  cif^tiiie— 

Speak,  thai  my  torturing  doubts  dtcir  end  may  kn 


SIR  WALTER  SCOTT 


f^.  P/Btti/  Maisie 

PROUD  Maim  b  tn  the  wood, 
Walking  M  oiSf, 
SwMt  Robin  xiti  no.  the  buih, 
Sutgiag  M  nrdy. 

*Tetl  me,  thou  boMif  bird, 
Wlteo  9luU  I  mrry  mtV 

— 'WItiKi  six  braw  gentlcnMn 
Kiikwud  shall  cury  yc.' 

•Who  Rukn  the  bridal  bed, 

Dicdie,  ny  tmly  \ ' 
—'The  grcy-faud«d  mxioo 

That  ddvcs  tli«  grave  duly. 

'Tbe  glo«r-w«nn  o'er  grate  and  siooe 

Shall  light  thee  steady ; 
Tlie  o»l  from  (be  stwiJc  sing 

Welcome,  pn»d  lady  1 ' 


•ni-iip 


f43.  BriffiaU  Baukj 

r\     BRIGNALL  banks  an  wiM  nd  &ir, 
^^1    And  Greta  woods  are  gittn, 
And  you  maj  gaibcr  guiands  ibrre, 

WmU  grace  a  •omner  <|iieen: 
And  as  I  rode  by  Dihoa  Hall, 

Beneath  ibc  lurtcts  hi^h, 
A  Maiden  on  the  cawlc  wall 

Waa  aii^g  nieRily: — 


SIR  WALTER  SCOTT 

'0,  Brigtiall  tank*  ore  (Vcsh  w>d  fiir, 
And  GrcM  woods  are  grntt'. 

I'd  rather  roTc  with  Edmund  there 
Than  reign  our  Coglish  Queea' 

'  If,  Maiden,  thou  wouldst  wcod  whh  me 

To  Icatc  both  tower  >nd  town, 
Thou  lirst  must  guess  whu  life  \rad  we, 

That  dwell  by  dale  and  down: 
And  if  thou  canst  that  riddle  read, 

As  read  full  well  you  may. 
Then  10  the  greenwood  shall  tbou  &pecd 

As  blithe  aa  Qaeen  of  May.' 

Yet  ming  she,  'Brigiull  b<n^s  are  fair, 
And  Gieta  woods  ue  green ! 

I'd  rather  rove  witli  Edmund  there 
Than  t«ign  oar  Eoglish  Quena. 

*I  read  you  by  your  bogle  horn 

And  by  your  |>altrey  good, 
I  read  you  for  a  Ranger  Rwom 

To  keep  the  King's  green-wood.* 
'A  Ranger,  Lady,  winds  his  horn, 

And  'lt«  at  peep  of  light; 
His  blast  is  heard  at  merry  ntoen. 

And  mine  at  dead  of  night.' 

Yet  snng  she,  '  BrignfJl  Unlca  are  fair, 

And  Greta  woods  are  gayl 
I  would  I  were  with  Edmund  there, 

To  reigo  bis  Queen  of  May ! 

'With  burnisli'd  brand  and  musketooa 
So  gallantly  you  cotne, 


SIR  WALTER  SCOTT 


1  nad  yoa  for  a  bold  Dragoon, 
That  lists  tlie  tuck  of  dram.' 

*  I  Um  no  more  tbe  tuck  of  dnim. 
No  more  the  tnunpet  heart 

Bat  when  thrc  bwtlc  souodi  bit  hum, 
My  camradei  tibc  the  ^fox. 

•And  Ol    though  Uristull  banks  be  fdr. 

And  Grtu  woods  be  giy, 
Yet  nuckle  must  tl»e  nuideo  dare, 

Would  re^Q  my  Queen  of  May  ■ 

*  Maiden  I   a  nunelcn  life  I  lead, 
A  naixiclcii  (trath  I'll  die; 

Tbe  £ei>d  whose  Ucvtcm  lights  the  me^ 

Were  bcocr  nuu  ihin  I J 
And  when  I'm  witli  niy  comrades  met 

ficBoih  (be  grceft-wood  bough, 
Whw  one*  wc  were  w«  all  fistget, 

Not  think  what  wc  are  now.* 

7ianu.  Yet  Brignall  books  arc  firesh  and  fair, 
And  Grcu  woods  arc  greeo. 
And  you  may  gMfaer  flowers  there 
WoiJd  gna  a  Rmtmtr  queen. 

Lucy  Asbttm's  So»g 
I  OOK  not  thou  on  bcmty's  chuniingi 
^    Sit  thou  still  when  kings  aic  arming ; 
TkKe  not  when  the  «-inr-cup  glistens; 
Speak  not  when  the  people  listens ; 
Stop  thine  car  against  the  singer; 
From  the  red  goM  keep  iJiy  linger; 
Vacam  heart  and  htoA  and  eye, 
Easy  Ktc  and  quiet  die. 

Ml 


Wf. 


SIR  WALTER  SCOTT 


Ansvoer 


SOUND,  Mund  the  ctario^  fill  the  fife  I 
To  all  the  srtuiul  woiM  prodnin, 
One  crowded  hour  of  glorious  life 
Is  worth  an  age  without  a  name. 


f^.  The  Jiovcr^s  Adieu 

K    WEARY  lot  is  thtnc,  fair  maW, 
^^     A  weary  lot  b  lKi»e) 
To  pull  the  choni  thy  brow  to  braid, 

And  preii  die  roe  for  wine. 
A  Ugboomc  eye,  •  nidicr'i  nutn, 

A  (eadm  of  die  blue, 
A  doublet  of  the  Lincoln  greco — 

No  more  of  me  ye  knew. 
My  LoKl 
Ko  BOR  of  nw  ye  knew. 

'This  mom  is  rocrry  June,  I  trow, 

The  rose  is  budding  fjin ; 
But  she  sluU  bloom  io  winter  snow 

Ere  w«  two  mod  again.' 
— He  lum'd  his  charger  as  be  ^uke 

Upon  the  rirer  shore, 
He  £BT«  the  bridle-rtins  a  shake, 

Said  'Adieu  lor  eTennore, 
My  Love  I 
And  adieu  for  evermore' 


4n 


r47- 


SIR  WALTER  SCOTT 


Tatrhtism 


I.  Iim»mmafi>i 


DREATHES  there  iht  nuu  mth  soul  so  de*d, 
*^     Who  never  u>  bini»i;!f  luih  siid, 

'  Thii  i>  my  own,  my  dMjtc  land  I ' 
WboM  ban  hatb  tic'a  wirltin  him  bvro'd 
As  hoinr  hit  (bornqn  be  hath  tum'd 

From  unflderiag  on  t  foreign  straad? 
If  such  iliere  btcxUic,  go,  miik  Itim  wcUt 
For  him  no  Mifucml  rapcum  8W«U| 
High  though  hi4  titles,  pnwd  his  nuiw, 
Bouodlns  his  vmhh  as  wish  can  claim ; 
Do^tc  those  titles,  po«-er,  and  prtf, 
The  wteuh,  coticenved  aU  in  self, 
Living,  shall  forfeit  fair  renown, 
And,  doubly  dying,   thai!  go  down 
To  ihc  vile  dtiM  ftom  whence  he  spning, 
Unwept,  unbonoui'd,  and  ud&uq^. 


f^. 


2.  ifiUne,   Pill,   Fm 


'  I  "O  mute  and  to  matnial  things 
*      New  life  retolring  Mmmcr  brings  i 
The  gMui  call  dead  Nature  bean, 
Aad  in  Iwr  glory  Kspprars. 
Dm  ob,  mj  Countiy't  tnoaj  scstr 
What  second  spring  shall  reoorate? 
What  powerfid  call  shall  bid  vise 
The  buried  walike  and  the  witei 


«*» 


SIR  WALTER  SCOTT 

The  mind  that  tliou^^it  for  Briuui's  vmi. 

The  hind  tb«t  gnspM  the  ncior  suxli 

The  renul  sun  new  liie  bestows 

Unti  on  the  mcaoctt  flower  that  blows  i 

Hut  rainly,  t^dy  may  he  sbisc 

Where  glory  weeps  o'er  Nelsox's  sbrifiet 

And  vainly  perce  the  solemn  |th>om 

That  shmudsi  O  Vm,  thy  haltow'd  tomb! 

Deep  graved  in  every  British  bnn, 

O  never  let  those  names  dejArt  I 

Say  to  your  sons, — Lo,  hoe  his  grave. 

Who  victor  died  on  Godite  wu»e ! 

To  him,  M  to  the  buiciog  levio, 

•Short,  bright,  mitllns  course  wss  gitea. 

Where'er  his  couiiirj''s  foes  v-cre  found 

W.ts  heard  the  fated  thunder's  souad. 

Till  buriit  the  bolt  on  yonder  shore, 

KoU'd,  blamed,  dcstioy'd — a&d  was  no  man. 

Nor  mourn  ye  lens  his  peri«h'd  worth, 
WIki  bade  the  cnnijiicror  go  forth, 
And  Uunch'd  that  ihundeibolt  of  wsr 
On  ligypt,  Hafnia,  TtafalgHr; 
Who,  batn  to  guide  eucb  high  «n{>rise. 
For  Britain's  w«l  was  early  «TS*i 
Alas!    to  whom  the  Almt^bty  gm, 
For  Britain's  sins,  aa  early  grat«l 
— His  worth,  who  in  his  mightiest  houl 
A  bauble  held  the  pride  of  power, 
Spum'd  st  the  sordid  lust  of  pelf. 
And  served  his  Albion  for  henclf; 
Who,  when  the  frantic  crowd  iBiain 
Straio'd  at  snbjectioa's  bursting  rcio, 
AM 


WALTER  SCOTT 


i*«r  ibdr  v'M  mood  faU  coaipxiK  pia'd. 
The  pride  be  vroald  Dot  cnuh,  rcMnin'dt 
Sbow'd  ibcir  fierce  »al  i  wonIii«r  caiur, 
^^^nd  bnqgbt  tbc  fnctnui'i  ami  lo  aid  ifae  freeiMn'ft  law*. 

^Blidii  then  W  lired,  though  siripfi'd  of  power, 
Hu^  wMcbnra  00  the  k»dj  tower, 
^Thf  ihrilltng  mmp  had  ronsed  ibe  Inrxt, 

When  Innd  or  danger  wctc  at  hand; 

By  thee,  aa  bjr  the  bcacon-lijbt, 

Out  plots  bad  kept  course  aright  [ 

As  soflw  ptMid  col«n»,  tliougli  alont^ 

Thy  strcagtb  hod  projip'd  the  tottering  throne. 

Now  b  tbe  itatdy  column  broke, 

The  beacon-light  n  ^uencb'd  In  HDoke, 

The  irumjiei'i  »il»er  roice  b  »lilJ, 

The  wirdtT  silent  on  the  lull  I 


I       m 


think,  how  to  bb  blest  day, 
When  Death,  just  borering,  ckiim'd  his  prey. 
With  PB&nnrc's  nnakcr'd  mood 
Firm  at  his  diogerous  poK  be  stood  | 
Each  oil  for  oMd/ul  rest  repdl'd. 
With  dying  hand  the  rudder  held, 
Till  in  hb  fall  with  fateful  sway 
The  steerafie  of  the  realm  gate  way. 
Then— whUe  on  DriuInS  thouMod  plaina 
One  uiqiolluted  church  retnaios, 

'hose  peaceAi]  bells  ne'er  aent  around 
The  Uoody  tocsin's  maddcnbg  aoiuxt, 
But  nill  upon  the  hallow'd  day 
CDnioke  the  ■'rans  to  praise  aad  pray; 
ViliUe  faith  and  civil  peace  are  dear, 


SIR  WALTER  SCOTT 

Grace  this  «^d  maifalc  «-tth  a  icar: — 
He  who  prtscrrfd  tb<-m,  Pitt,  Um  here  I 

Nor  jrn  suppns*  the  geneious  sijh, 

Because  his  rival  »lumben  nith; 

Not  be  ihy  Jteyuitu^  dumb 

Lest  it  be  utd  o'er  Pox'i  tonibb 

For  ulents  mouro,   untimcljr  lo«, 

When  best  employ'd,  and  traotcd  mostt 

Moutn  genius  high,  and  Ion  pcoCbund, 

And  wit  tliat  loied  to  play,  dm  wound; 

And  all  the  reasooiog  powers  diTine 

To  peeemie,  resolve,  combine  t 

And  l«eIiR{;s  keen,  and  (kncy's  glow — 

Thejr  sleep  with  him  who  slee]is  below : 

And,  ir  thou  moum'st  they  could  not  uvo 

From  error  him  who  owns  this  gnve, 

Be  every  hamhcr  thought  suppms'd. 

And  tacrcd  be  ihc  last  toog  test. 

Ifrrt,  where  the  end  of  earthly  tliiajpi 

Lays  heroes,  patriots,  hards,  and  kings; 

Wliere  stilf  the  kind,  ind  «il!  the  too^gae, 

Of  those  who  fought,  and  ipoke,  and  anng; 

f/cre,  where  the  fretted  vaults  proloi^ 

1'hc  distant  nates  of  hnly  sonj;. 

As  if  i>Eimc  angel  spoke  agco, 

'  All  peace  on  cmh,  good-will  to  men ' ; 

If  ever  from  an  Eo^bh  heart, 

O,  htre  let  prejudice  deport, 

And,  partial  feelii^  cast  aside, 

Record  that  Fox  a  Briton  died! 

When  Europe  crouch'd  to  Fraooe'*  yoke^ 

Atid  Austria  bent,  uid  Pruuu  broke. 


^^V        SIR  WALTER  SCOTT 

^P    And  tba  &in  Rtmbo's  pupoM  hnn 
^M    Was  barui^d  by  a  timorotti  ilivc-— 
^1     Eveo  din  <SBhonotir's  j*kc  he  spuro'd, 
^V     The  sullied  oliTc-braach  rnurs'd, 
Stood  fix  lus  oouocry*>  slory  I«k, 
And  nnii'd  bcr  coloure  to  the  mutl 
Huwti,  to  reward  hit  firmncM,  give 
A  pofiioa  in  ihrt  honour'd  grave; 
And  ne'er  lield  nuible  in  iu  truU 
Of  two  neb  woodrous  men  the  dusf. 

With  more  than  mortJ  powers  eodow'd, 
How  high  they  *ou*ii  above  the  erowd  I 
Theirs  was  no  common  piny  race, 
Joadlag  by  dark  imrigut  for  placet 
Like  EiUed  gods,  thetr  mijihiy  war 
Shook  realms  and  nations  b  its  jv  i 
fiencMh  each  faanoer  ptond  to  stand, 
Look'd  Hp  the  ooUest  of  the  Und, 
Till  through  the  British  world  were  known 
The  tumeit  of  Pirr  kuJ  Fox  alooe. 
Spells  of  such  force  no  wiiard  grave 
E'er  framed  io  dark  Tbesulian  caTe, 
Though  hia  codd  drain  the  ocean  dry, 
And  force  the  plaatu  from  the  sky. 
These  spells  are  spent,  and,  spent  with  tbae, 
The  wine  of  life  is  on  the  lees. 
Genius,  and  i^uce,  and  olent  gaoe. 
For  ever  tomb'd  beneath  the  stone, 
Where— uming  thought  lo  humaa  pride  I— 
"Hic  mighty  chiefs  sicep  ^idc  by  tail. 
Dnf  ifioa  Pox's  grvre  the  Ktr, 
Ttrill  trickk  to  Im  rivafs  bier ; 


SIR  WALTER  SCOTT 

O'er  Pitt*!  the  mournful  tequiem  sound, 
And  Fok'i  sbill  the  men  rebound. 
Tlic  sotcmn  echo  Kcini  to  cry, 
'Hen;  let  their  <U»oord  with  th«n  <l!e. 
Sl<ak  Dot  for  thow  a  separate  doom 
Whom  fate  iDMie  Itrothcrs  in  the  tomb; 
But  sesrch  the  Usd  of  living  nMO, 
Wlicie  wilt  tbou  Tind  tbtir  Ukc  igfof* 


SAMUEL  TAYLOR  COLERIDGE        ■ 
X4P.    The  Rime  of  the  Antient  Maimer 
Part  1 


AiastfaM 

HmIm 

— iltt  thun 

aTlanlB 


I T  is  an  uicient  Mirmcr, 
^     And  he  stopfetb  ooe  of  three. 
Er.i.iriiMa        'By  thy  loog  grey  bnid  and  glitleiing  eye, 
Wj2i£S    Now  whcwfore  Mopp-tt  thou  me? 

to*. 

The  Dndegroooi'*  doora  kk  opcn'd  wide, 
And  1  ani  next  of  lunj 
The  guests  vc  nici,  the  feaa  IS  sa: 
May'st  hear  the  nieny  din.' 

He  holds  him  viih  his  akinny  hand, 
'There  w«  a  ship,'  qooth  he. 
'Hold  offl    unh&nd  me,  grey-beard  loonl'J 
Efitoons  hi>  liand  djvpt  he. 

Sirt£*''1f    ^'  '"*'''*  **""  *'*  ^  gbttnittg  eye — 
tasdV^t     The  Wcdding-Goest  stood  uill, 
HKruiv-^o.    And  listens  like  a  dtree  years'  cfaiM: 
X^C^t^tt  The  Mariner  h«h  W*  wilL 


« 


SAMUEL  TAYLOR  COLERIDGE 


The  Wcdduig-Gurtt  ui  on  >  uonc : 
He  euiDOt  choow  bot  Iww; 
And  Uuu  tfika  on  thu  aodcnt  mon, 
The  bnght-CTed  Mariner. 

'The  ship  wk>  checr'd,  the  Kaibour  ckat'd, 

Merrily  did  ve  drop 

Below  the  iirlc,  below  ibe  hill, 

Below  the  lighthouse  top. 

"nie  Sun  came  vf  opon  the  left, 
Out  of  the  tea  exoe  he! 
And  he  thane  bright,  aiid  on  the  right 
Went  down  into  the  lea. 

Higher  Md  higher  erery  d»y. 
Till  OTW  the  Runt  ai  aoon      -■' 
The  Weddiag-ODCft  here  ben  his  breast, 
For  he  beant  dw  toud  busooo. 


TV*  Mitl»r 
trill  ksv  Ike 
•IniMlIra 

■  nodwlKl 
•n^blr 
mikM.  riri 
linwlMdU* 


The  bride  hub  paced  into  the  hall, 
Red  as  a  roM  is  die; 
Nodding  ihrir  hrid.t  before  hrr  goc« 
Tha  merry  mtnnrclsy. 

The  Weddiag>GtieR  he  beat  \a%  bmwt. 
Yet  be  cannat  cboote  bat  hear; 
And  tbm  ifoke  on  that  ancieM  nun. 
The  bright-eyed  Matinef. 

'And  now  the  Stomi-tlaK  came,  and  be 
Wn  tjrraxnoua  and  ttnmg: 
He  (truck  with  lus  o'etukinj;  wings, 
And  chiwd  us  south  along. 


CSCMlKAfcA 
«eMd«l 

UntHT 


ttasMfehkuik 


rcen- 


TWiUpAawti 
bv  a  ttaob  to- 

Pot*. 


<W9 


SAMUEL  TAYLOR  COLERIDGE 


With  sloping  taasu  hik)  dipping  prow, 

As  wlio  punned  with  yrll  and  Uow 

Suit  treads  the  shadow  of  his  toe, 

And  forward  bends  his  head, 

The  ship  droTv  fast,  loud  roar'd  the  falist, 

And  southwurd  aye  we  fled.  J 

And  now  there  came  both  nuu  attd  riow, 
And  it  grew  wondroos  cold: 
And  ice,  mast-high,  came  floating  by, 
A>  grcMi  as  cmndd. 

ofke.  And  iJirough  the  drifts  the  soowy  cEfa 
«u-t":S!,    Did  send  a  dismal  Sheen: 
no  uv:„r  iinni    Nor  ibapes  of  men  nor  beasts  we  kea — 
The  ice  wu  ill  between. 

The  ice  was  hert,  the  ice  was  there. 
The  ioe  was  all  aiuimd ; 
It  cnck'd  and  growi*d,  and  roai'd  osd  howl'd, 
Like  noises  in  a  s««uq<1  ! 


•ivf< 


Ttn  t-gntt 
•M-bint,  olleJ 
ihc  Altuira*^ 
aunt  Lhr«g)th 

Atlfl  waa  sw- 

fmt  jO)'  and 


AnJ  In  1  the 

AIIhIRhi 

pTOtrrb  •  \tirA 
«f  voo't  oflifn, 

■nSfull 


I  fullawilli 

ttw  phj;)4air 
•fturnid  IKUlh- 

wmd  ilimaih  foj  and  flauing  lc& 


At  length  did  crow  an  Albatross, 
Thorough  the  (og  it  came; 
As  if  it  had  bwo  a  CIiHstijn  soul, 
We  haii'd  It  in  God's  name. 

It  ate  the  food  it  oe'cr  had  eat, 
And  round  and  round  it  flew. 
The  ice  did  split  with  a  thBnder>fiti 
The  helmsman  sieer'd  us  through  I 

And  a  good  juuili  wtnd  spmg  up 
The  AltMiross  did  follow. 
And  every  day,  for  food  or  play, 
Came  10  the  mariners'  boUo! 


SAMUEL  TAYLOR  COLERIDGE 

In  mitt  or  cloud,  oa  ram  or  thjoud. 

It  perch'd  for  vexpere  ninet 

Wliilts  all  the  night,  throogh  fog-imokc  white, 

Climmcr'd  the  while  nwOMlHnr/ 


'God  n*c  thee,  mdent  Mariner, 

From  the  ItMid*,  that  pl^^uc  thee  thut!—        i  ck  ^.j, 
Why  look'sl  thou  to?'— 'Witli  my  criMsbow  wiaofpixi  " 
1  shot  the  AlbairoM. 


pAtT   II 

'  The  Sun  now  toite  upon  the  right : 
Out  of  tlw  sea  came  he. 
Still  bid  in  miit,  and  on  the  IHl 
Went  down  into  ibc  sea. 

And  ibc  good  south  wind  still  blew  behind, 
But  DO  nmt  bird  did  follow, 
Nor  any  day  for  food  or  play 
Cune  to  til*  narinere*  hollo  1 

And  I  had  done  a  belSth  ihiog. 

And  ii  would  work  'em  woe: 

For  >U  ■mr'd  I  had  kjll'd  ibc  bini 

ThK  made  the  brceic  to  blow. 

Ah  wretch!   said  tlicy,  the  bird  to  slay, 

That  made  tlie  bcca«  to  blow! 

Kor  dim  w>r  r«d,  like  God's  own  Itnd, 

The  gtorioQS  Sun  upriit : 

Tbrn  ail  afcrr'd  I  had  Itill'd  dw  Un) 

Thii  brongbt  the  fog  aod  mist 

Twa*  right,  said  they,  audi  birda  to  slay. 

That  bring  tbe  fo|  and  mitt. 


Hill    . 

crjF  «■■  aiitari 

U>n>CT  for 
kiUibi  <V  binl 
•TgooI  lalk 


■■1  ■)*•  i)h 
aMkslboD- 


rlkinlBtlM 
crlB*. 


SAMUEL  TAYLOR  COLERIDCB 


Ttchlr 

•Km«alfl(t  thq 

OBil  Hrik  nnnb- 
■ni4,  M«i  lUI 
it  i«iich«  ihs 

bmMatrnhr 
bccaliOML 


Tht  fiir  bttnc  blew,  the  white  fi»m  8cw, 

The  furrow  fotlow'd  Tm; 

Wc  were  the  lire*  thai  ever  burst 


r'lrrr'    !«»  ih*  jUem  sea. 


Down  <Iropt  the  hntw,  the  sails  drDjit  down 
Twan  ud  as  ud  coutd  bei 
And  we  did  speak  onljr  to  break 
The  nlence  of  the  ««! 

All  in  a  hot  and  eopper  sky, 
The  bloody  Sun,  K  noon, 
Right  op  above  the  mast  did  Maixl, 
No  bigger  thin  the  Moon. 

Day  afier  day,  dty  tStcr  diy, 
Wc  stuck,  mr  breath  nor  motioa ; 
As  idle  as  a  iMtinted  ship 
Upon  a  painted  ocean. 


AndihsAlbb    Water,  water,  everywhere, 
E^Tm^^"    And  all  tlie  board*  did  ahrinkt 

Water,  water,  everywhere, 

Nor  any  drop  to  drink. 

The  wry  deep  did  rot :    O  Christ  I 
That  ever  this  should  be  I 
Yea,  slimy  thingt  did  cnwl  with  kgi 
Upon  tho  slimy  sea. 

About,  about,  in  reel  and  ront 
The  death-fires  Jaoced  it  night  i 
The  water,  like  a  witch's  oils. 
Burnt  green,  and  blue,  aod  white. 


SAMUEL  TAYLOR  COLERIDGE 


And  some  in  dreams  assured  were 
Of  the  Spirit  that  plagued  us  so  ; 
Nine  fathom  deep  he  had  follow'd  us 
From  the  land  of  mist  and  snow. 


A  Spitil  hid 
follon-ed  thnn; 
one  ol  thr  in- 
Titible  inhabit 
mnu  of  ihii 
pbnct,  nrrihvr 
dtparled  «gu1i 
nor  unfjeli  -,  con- 


cnninff  whom  thr  learned  Jnr,  Jnpphm,  ind  the  PI b ionic  CDciitanimopolilan, 
Uicluel  PirUiiBt  nurbe  eormltcd.   Ttiej  ire  vtty - 


dimmcv  or  elemcDt  wichoot  odc  or  more. 


r  numetoiu,  and  there  ii  no 


And  every  tongue,  through  utter  drought. 
Was  wither'd  at  the  root  ( 
We  could  cot  speak,   no  more  than  if 
We  had  been  choked  with  soot. 

Ah  1   weD  i-day !    what  evil  looks 
Had  I  from  old  and  young! 
Instead  of  the  cross,  the  Albatross 
About  in  J  neck  was  hung. 

Pajit  III 

'There  passed  a  weary  time.     Each  throat 

Was  parch'd,  and  glazed  each  eye. 

A  weary  time  t   a  weary  time  1 

How  glazed  each  weary  eyel 

When  looking  westward,  I  beheld 

A  something  in  the  sky. 

At  lint  it  seem'd  a  little  speck, 
And  then  it  seem'd  a  mist; 
It  moved  and  moved,  and  took  at  last 
A  certain  shape,  I  wist. 

A  speck,  a  mist,  a  shape,  I  wistt 
And  still  it  near'd  and  near'd : 
As  if  it  dodged  a  watcT'Spritc, 
It  plunged,  and  tack'd,  and  veer'd. 


The  •hipDiam 
in  their  tore 
diftrrvt,  woalrl 
fAin  Ihrow  the 
«'ha1e  nilt  oa 
Iheucieu 
Huineri  in 
■ign  mrhereof 
tbej*  han£  ifae 
dpHd  ■eA-birit 
rovnd  hiB  neck. 


The  ucieiil 
Uarinerbe- 

holdetb  ■  ii|;n 
in  tbe  elemeu 
■  Tar  o& 


SAMUEL  TAYLOR  COLERIDGE 


Ai  It*  HHnt 

uii|  Mt  ft  ilrir 

<rnll>  tilt 
rtm-li  Irom 

■Mnt. 


Whh  throttS  nnslaked,  with  black  lipft 
Wc  coulil  not  bngh  nor  wail  t 
Through  oner  drought  all  dumb  wc  uoodi 
I  bil  my  arm,  I  nick'd  the  blood, 
And  cried,  A  wl !   >  tail  I 


With  throats  uaslikcd,  with  bbck  Bp 
Ag^ft  they  heard  me  calli 
Ailuherj'Yi    Gramncy  !    they  for  joy  <Ud  gria, 

And  all  at  once  thtir  breath  drew  in, 
An  they  were  drinkiog  all. 

ARdtMtnr        See!    see!    (I  cried)  she  lacks  ao  mml 
«niit>*a        Hither  to  work  bb  weal — 
S;'£^i"i;r3  ^Viihout  a  IwM.  wtihoiit  a  tide, 
""''•"''•'    She  atradio  wiih  nprighl  ktd ! 

The  wcKem  wave  wu  all  aflxmc, 
The  day  was  wcllnigh  done! 
Almost  npon  the  we«tem  wa«« 
Rested  the  bmd,  bright  Sunt 
When  tliat  9tni^(e  shape  drore  niddenly 
Betwixt  us  and  the  Sun. 


Il  wmMii  fi!m    Add  siniight  the  Sun  was  fleck'd  with 
I'M^fVihilr     {Heaven's  Nfolher  send  us  grace  I), 

As  if  Uirough  a  dungeon- grate  he  peet'd 
Whh  broad  and  buming  face. 

Alas !    (tliouglit  I,  and  my  heart  heat 
How  lait  she  nears  and  oeanl 
Are  thoM  her  sail*  that  gbtooe  in  the 
Like  rcsileM  gossamcret? 
4h 


SAMUEL  TAYLOR  COLERIDGE 


tJwM  her  ribs  cJin)a]tb  which  the  Sun 

peer,  u  Uiroagh  a  (nitef 
And  if  thit  Woman  all  her  crrwf 
It  that  a  Death  t  and  m  there  two  i 
h  Death  that  Woman's  mate  * 

Hn  lip«  vtn  red,  her  look*  were  free, 
Her  locka  were  yellow  u  fo(d: 
Her  (kill  wai  u  white  u  kf  rosgr, 
Tha  NiglilraarT  Ltfe-in-Draih  was  she, 
Who  thicks  man's  blood  with  cold. 


Aadturlht 

hm  en  ihK 
Ur*  at  111. 

Iht  Sp>or«- 
WouawJlH 
OMIk«>i'. 
and  *•  d<h«r, 
MbMr4ila 

SiMMlhlp. 
kCHV*. 


EaikaM 
k«fe<>l»4«itr 


lUlct)  wlnntlli 
Ihc  aBcioii 
Ma/inrr. 

K«t*iltlht 
■4lM*iW 

San. 


The  naked  hulk  aioo{«ide  camCi 
And  the  twain  were  cssting  dioei 
"Thepmeisdooel  I'wwonI  I'wwon!"     Srfrtfj.C^ 
Quoth  the,  >nd  whiutes  thrice. 

The  Sua's  rim  dipt)  Uie  stars  re>h  ont: 
At  OIK  stride  ccmn  the  daile; 
With  far-heard  whi^«r,  o'er  the  ica, 
Off  shot  dbe  «pt«re-b9ric 

We  listni'd  and  toolt'd  sideways  up  I 

Fear  at  my  heart,  as  At  a  cup, 

My  lifi-Uood  SMio'd  to  sip! 

The  stars  were  dun,  and  thick  the  ni^rt, 

The  stemrnan's  face  by  hU  lamp  [^Imn'd  while  i 

From  the  sail*  the  dew  did  drip^ 

Till  cloRib  abore  the  ca^icrn  bar 

The  homld  ^fooa,  with  one  bri^i  stM' 

Wnkia  tiie  tKthcr  tip. 

One  after  ooe,  by  the  star-do](g'd  Moon, 
Too  qidck  for  groan  or  ngh. 
Eld)  Inm'il  bis  fitce  with  a  i^astly  pang, 
Ai»d  curved  me  with  hU  eye. 

sss 


AllhtrUtc 


Owrtir 

■■olhit^ 


SAMUEL  TAYLOR  COLERIDGE. 


Four  timn  fifty  living  imn 
(And  I  hctrA  nor  ngh  nor  groan). 
With  boBv^  thump,  a  lifeless  lamp. 
They  dropp'd  down  one  by  one. 


R*i  Llf*-tfr       The  (ouls  <Ud  from  their  bodin  fly— 
K^fC"     They  fled  u>  bliM  or  w« ! 

StilnSr""  ^'*'*  **''7  '*'*''   ''  P"**'*'  "**  ''y 

Like  the  whizz  of  my  croubow  !  * 


Part  IV 


■•  UlklDT  U 

hla. 


And  thou  an  long,  aod  lanlc,  and  brows, 
A>  11  the  tibb'd  «es-sand. 

I  fear  ihre  and  thy  xl'twriog  eye, 
And  thy  skinny  hand  so  brown.'— 
*  Kent  not,  fur  not,  thou  Wcddiof-Guett  I 
This  body  citopt  not  down. 

Alone,  ilonc,  all,  all  alone, 
AloDc  on  a  wide,  wide  »ca  ( 
And  never  a  wint  took  pity  on 
My  soul  in  igpny. 

BeJcKpiteih      The  many  men,  so  bcaadfall 
S;'^""*"  And  they  all  dead  did  lie: 

And  a  thousand  iliousand  slimy  things 

Lived  oa;  and  so  did  L 


Bit  At  m- 

clein  Matlntr 
UMWl  him 
etliitbodilT' 
IU«,and  fir» 
ccMMliia  n- 
!■»  hi!  hoirilile 


And  cBvictb 

ilinl  ihn- 

■ndiomuT 

Ik."     • 


I  look'd  upon  the  rotting  *ea. 
And  drew  my  eye*  away; 
I  look'd  upon  the  rotting  deck, 
And  there  the  dead  men  by. 


SAMUEL  TAYLOR  COLERIDGE 


I  look'd  to  hnven,  and  tntd  to  jira^t 
But  or  mt  a  pnjpcr  had  {usbl, 
A  wicked  wliii|is  cnx,  and  nude 
My  han  as  diy  as  dusL 

I  clowd  Riy  lid«,  and  kept  thnn  cIom, 

And  the  batl<i  like  pulsci  beat; 

For  Utc  i^y  and  the  sn,  and  the  ten  and  the  sky, 

Lay  like  a  loid  on  my  larory  eye, 

And  (he  dead  wenr  at  my  feet 

The  cold  sweat  melted  from  tbdr  timbi, 
Not  rot  Dor  reck  did  they: 
The  look  WTtli  which  ibcy  look'd  oq  mi- 
Had  nerei  |HSi'd  away. 

Aa  orphan's  ouae  would  drag  to  bell 

A  tpirtt  iron]  OQ  high ; 

But  oh!    mure  horr^lc  tlian  \1m 

la  the  curse  in  a  dead  man's  eye ! 

Seren  days,  seven  nights,  1  taw  that  cunw. 

And  yet  I  oouid  not  die. 

The  moving  Moon  ««nc  up  the  sky. 
And  Dowboe  did  abide; 
Softly  she  was  going  vp, 
AaA  a  star  or  two  beside^ 


Sal  ibr  mm 
SwikKirM* 
iatfvi7*ettW 


fai*imh» 
i«ki4i  (lia 


It  aM  MjOBni,  im  «■  a»H  nnVErJ :  uul  i 

lolftvdl,  1*4  ■  thM*  appoinfcd  twi  tfd  thtn  tdtH     ^ ,._.. 

nl  liniiei.  Blilch  iW*  mit  •manjMaaMd.  •■  lardi  ikM  an  lialiil) 

■■d  7<i  Uae  li  *  tlliBi  joy  ti  ibtlr  ardraL 


Her  beams  betnock'd  the  «iliry  nuin, 
Lflw  April  boar-jnist  tprad ; 
Bm  wbcR  the  sh^s  hug^  shadow  by, 
The  donnid  warn  bww  alway 
A  itSI  aad  awful  red. 


SAMUEL  TAYLOR  COLERIDGE 


Iw  brkUdcA 

ram  ol  rhc 
(KW  (aim. 


Th>i[  bM,gi)r 
■nd  ihft> 


Ha  IIihOi 
I  Kvrn  to  fcjt 


Tlif  iptS 


BcyOBd  the  shadow  of  thr  ship, 

]  mtch'd  the  water- uialcM  1 

They  (noted  ta  ttada  of  abiafeg  wUmT 

And  when  Uicy  mr'd,  the  dish  ^ht 

Fell  oir  in  booiy  Ojkcs. 

Witliin  the  ihadow  of  thr  sh^ 

I  w&tch'd  their  rich  aitin;: 

Blue,  fliMsy  grcta,  aod  velvet  bbck, 

Tlicjr  coil'd  ud  Bwasi  1  snd  eiay  truk 

Wu  1  Adah  of  goMen  fire. 

O  hapfiy  living  tl^ogsl    ik>  longuc 

Their  beauty  might  declara : 

A  spring  of  lov-e  gusb'd  bom  my  hnr% 

And  ]  hieu'd  thca  unaware  i 

Sure  my  kind  »tnt  took  pity  oa  aie. 

Anil  I  blcss'd  ibem  umwsrv. 

The  sclfviinc  moment  I  could  pray  i 
And  fiDin  ray  neck  so  free 
The  Alhatro&s  fi-ll  olf,  and  sank 
Like  lead  into  the  sea. 


ilwlioly 

MvSMth 
»itb  raio. 


Part  V 

'O  sleep  I   K  b  a  goitle  thing, 
Beloved  from  pole  to  pole  I 
To  Mary  Queen  the  praise  be  f^Tm! 
She  sent  the  gentfe  sleep  frum  Hcatvn, 
That  slid  ioU)  my  souL 

The  silly  buckets  oa  the  deck, 

Thki  had  so  long  rcmain'd, 

]  dreamt  tltat  they  were  filPd  with  dwT 

And  wlwQ  I  awoke,  it  tain'd. 


SAMUEL  TAYLOR  COLERIDGE 


My  lips  were  wet,  my  throat  was  cold, 
Mjr  guinents  >11  were  dank; 
Sure  I  had  diunkni  in  my  dreams, 
And  stiU  my  body  drank. 

I  moved,  aod  could  not  fed  my  limbs: 
I  was  so  light — timost 
I  thought  that  I  had  died  in  sleep, 
Aiid  was  a  blessM  ghost. 

And  soon  I  heard  a  roaring  wind: 
It  did  not  come  anearj 
But  with  its  soond  it  shook  the  sails, 
That  were  so  thin  and  sere. 

The  upper  lir  burst  into  life ; 
And  a  hundred  fire-flags  sheen ; 
To  and  fro  they  wen  hurried  about  1 
And  to  and  fro,  and  in  and  out, 
The  wan  stars  danced  between. 

And  the  coming  wind  did  roar  more  loud. 
And  the  sails  did  sigh  like  sedge; 
And  the  rain  pour'd  down  from  one  black  cluud  ; 
The  Moon  was  at  its  edge. 

The  thick  black  cloud  was  cleft,  and  still 
The  Moon  was  at  its  side) 
Like  waters  shot  from  some  high  crag. 
The  tightuing  fell  with  never  a  jag, 
A  river  steep  and  wide. 

The  loud  wind  nerer  reach'd  the  ship, 
Yet  now  the  ship  moved  nnt 
Beneath  the  lightning  and  the  Moon 
The  dead  men  gave  a  groaa 


Hebeareih 

noDdiiuid 
Kcih  itrup 

ComiDOliODfl 

Id  Ibp  sky  End 
Uk  rlemeqL 


The  bodia  of 
the  iklp'i  mw 
4TC  lupind, 
■Dd  UiEaliip 


OH) 


SAMUEL  TAYLOR  COLERIDGE 


Bui  not  by 

|]4  M'ulfl  of 
(ho  "«T,  nof 
by  dfincini  of 
t-4f  ih  or  n]UtdI« 

■».  llUI  t?  ■ 
bleunl  ctixip 
d'  AnjfvUc 

Aivii  by  III? 
mvouuoD  tit 


M 


Thtj  sroan'd.  tbcy  itia'd,  tlicy  all 

Nor  spake,  nor  muitd  iJwnr  eyes ; 

tt  had  been  urai^,  even  in  a  dfram, 

To  have  seen  tboie  dead  men  riv:. 

The  tidiasman  neer'd,  the  ship  moied  on; 

Y«  never  a  breetc  up-falcw; 

The  miriner^  all  'gnn  vrork  the  rope, 

Wh«e  tliey  were  woM  lo  do  | 

Tlicy  raiacd  their  Itnibs  like  lifelesi 

We  were  x  gliuclj  crew. 

Tlic  body  of  my  brother*!  norn 

Stood  by  me,  knee  to  knee: 

The  body  xad  I  (luH'd  at  one  tvfc. 

But  he  Mid  naught  to  me.' 

'  I  fear  thee,  ancieBt  Mariner  I ' 

*Be  calm,  thou  WcddJos-Guett 

'Twu  not  those  nouh  tbit  £ed  in  p»n, 

Which  to  their  conet  came  tfua, 

But  a  titKip  qF  ^iiia  Ucu : 

For  when  it  dawn'd— they  dropp'd  their  loe. 

And  clusKT'd  round  the  mast; 

Sweet  sounds  nrac  slowly  throi^h  their 

And  from  their  bodies  poss'd. 

Around,  around,  flew  each  fwvet  tound, 

Then  daitcil  to  tbe  San; 

Slowly  the  xound^  amc  back  vgain. 

Now  mix'd,  DOW  one  by  one. 

Sometinics  a-dropjnng  from  the  »ky 

I  hisinl  tbe  skylurk  ui^i 

Sumctimca  alt  little  htnli  that  are. 

How  ihcy  licein'd  to  fill  the  aea  and  m 

With  their  sweet  Jar^ning! 


4 


^^^^^^^^^I^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^Bl^^^^^^^^^^^^^^H 

^M            SAMUEL  TAYLOR  COLERIDGE                      ^^B 

And  now  'twas  Bke  all  intlninieMs, 

^^1 

Now  like  a  loiwly  flutist 

^^^1 

Aod  now  it  is  ui  Mifjcrs  »oe|;. 

^^^1 

That  nukes  the  Hurena  be  oiotr. 

^^H 

It  cMscdl   yti  ctilt  the  uih  made  oq 

^^1 

A  plnsant  aobe  til)  noon, 

^^^1 

A  noiM  like  of  »  bidden  brooJc 

^^^H 

In  the  leafy  month  of  June, 

^^^1 

Thu  to  ihc  »lrcpuig  woods  ill  night 

^^^1 

Siogeth  a  qwel  wne. 

^^H 

Till  ooofl  we  quietlir  aS'd  on, 

^^H 

Yet  never  a  brreie  did  bn-atlie; 

^^^^1 

Slowly  and  wnooihiy  wmt  tbe  ship. 

^^^1 

Moved  onwud  from  beneath. 

^^H 

Under  the  luel  nioe  fathom  deep^ 

tVtaiKMnw                    ^^^^^1 

Procn  tbe  land  of  mint  and  «now, 

SpilU  (ran  UM                  ^^^^1 

The  Spirit  ^id:    aod  it  wts  he 

CBltHoa  lb*                       ^^^^^H 

llMUacIa                     ^^^H 

(baanntta                        ^^^^| 
Ma(t.bMailt                  ^^^^H 

That  mode  tbe  Aif  lo  go. 

Tbe  sail*  U  fwon  left  otf  tbcir  tuae, 

And  the  ship  stood  Mill  also. 

(Mjiuet.                        ^^^^H 

Tbe  Sun,  light  up  above  the  nuut, 

^^^H 

Had  Sx'd  hcf  to  the  ocean: 

^^^^1 

But  in  a  RiitiiMe  she  'gan  stir, 

^^^1 

Will)  a  short  gncasy  moikio — 

^^^^1 

Ktckwards  and  forwanis  half  lier  length 

^^^1 

With  a  short  uneasy  motion. 

^^H 

Thro  lil»  a  pawir^  horse  let  go. 

^^H 

She  made  a  suddeo  botind : 

^^^^1 

It  fivng  the  blood  iato  ny  liead, 

^^^1 

And  I  fell  down  in  *  swoonL 

^^^H 

T 

^^H 

SAMUEL  TAYLOR  COLERIDGE 


S|itlil'i  tiltenr- 
■ntWbk  Intebt- 
rtanLli  tc 

rtiM*,  oic  M 
iV*  atW,  IhW 
rnHuM  l«f 
■ik4  beAr^  for 

UarinR  hath 

MtbeFeUr 
Sririi,  irto 
fHirnHk 


How  long  a  that  mrk  lit  1  by, 
I  hue  not  to  dcciur; 
Qut  ere  ttiy  ItTiDg  life  retuni'd, 
!  heard,  and  in  mj  «ml  diKrro'd 
Two  voices  b  the  lir. 

"Is  it  hti"  quoiK  one,  **is  this  tbe  muF 
By  Hini  wivo  i\ed  ob  cross, 
With  his  cnicl  bov  hff  bid  fiill  low 
Tlie  hiRidcss  Albatross. 

The  Spirit  who  bideth  by  hlm«ir 
In  the  laod  of  auK  wid  snow, 
He  loTcd  the  bird  tli.it  loted  iJie  nun 
Who  diot  him  with  his  bow." 

The  oiber  *»s  a  softer  Toicv, 

As  soft  as  iioney-d?w ; 

Quotli  lie,  "The  buu  luib  feautee  ikH^]! 

And  penaoce  mure  wiU  io." 


P*»T  VI 
firtt  F'oiet: 

* "  But  tell  me.  icO  me  I   ipcak  qgatn, 
Thjr  lofV  rexponM  Tvnewisg — 
Whn  nukes  thai  ship  drive  on  so  laaJ 
Whsi  is  the  Ocean  doinsf* 


Seeoad  f^oiei; 


lord. 


"Still  as  a  slave  before  his 
The  Ocem  hsth  iw  tiUni 
His  great  bright  ejre  most  silenity 
U{i  to  the  Moon  is  um — 


SAMUEL  TAYLOR  COLERIDGE 


If  he  may  know  which  wt^  to  goi 
For  alw  £uides  him  xnoocfa  ot  grim. 
See,  brother,  Kel    how  gndouiy 
She  looketh  down  od  him." 

"Btti  why  drivr*  on  that  thip  so  fut. 
Without  or  wive  or  wind?" 

SkmJ  V^ti 
"The  ftir  is  cut  sway  before, 
And  clote*  fron)  behind. 

Fly,  broiher,  Ay  I    more  htgh,  niore  high ! 
Or  we  shall  be  bebtcd: 
For  slow  and  slow  thM  shij)  will  %\>, 
When  the  Msnncr's  imice  ii  abated.' 

I  wokr,  and  we  wen  sailing  on 

At  in  a  goiUa  wcstber: 

Twu  oi^t,  calm  oigbt,  the  Moon  wis  high ; 

The  dead  men  stood  togetlwr. 

All  xiood  together  on  the  deck. 
For  a  charoeMuogeom  &iter: 
All  itis'd  on  Tnr  their  stony  eyes, 
Tlut  in  the  Moon  did  glhier. 

The  pang,  the  cvt«e,  with  which  they  died. 
Had  ncTcr  pus'd  sway: 
I  could  not  drew  my  eyes  from  Undn, 
Nor  turn  them  up  to  pray. 

And  now  thit  spcD  was  snspi:  oacc  more 
I  ?iewvd  the  iKcan  grteii, 
And  look'd  far  Tonh,  yx  little  saw 
Of  what  had  ehc  beeti  Ken — 


kath  l«TB  (Ml 


TW. 


■nl  niHloB 


■he  Miiitn 
bcisnt  aarw. 


SaaDrayuMiL 


•4J 


SAMUEL  TAYLOR  COLERIDGE 

Like  one  that  on  a  lonesome  road 

Doth  walk  in  fear  and  dreui, 

And  having  once  turn'd  rouad,  "walks  0^ 

And  turns  no  more  his  head ; 

Because  he  knows  a  frighifu!   iienit 

Doth  close  behind  him  tread. 

But  soon  there  breathed  a  wind  on  mc, 
Nor  sound  nor  motion  made: 
Its  path  was  not  upon  the  sea, 
In  ripple  or  in  shade. 

It  raised  my  hair,  it  fano'd  my  cherlc 
Like  a  meadow-gale  of  spring — 
It  mingled  strange\f  mth  my  fears. 

Yet  it  felt  like  a  welcoming. 

Swiftly,  swifdy  flew  die  ship, 
Yet  she  sail'd  softly  loo: 
Sweedy,  sweedy  blew  the  breeze — 
On  me  alone  it  blew. 


SAMUEL  TAYLOR  COLERIDGE 


The  rock  sbooe  bright,  tlic  kiik  oo  IrM 
Thjit  sunds  above  the  rock : 
The  inoonliglu  Ucrji'tl  in  silcflUiMB 
The  steady  wvalberoock. 

And  the  bay  was  wtiUc  with  lUeM  light 
Till  tisias  fron  tlic  stmr, 
Full  RMiiy  itiapM,  that  ibadows  werf, 
In  ciimMn  colonn  oune. 


TMohHc 

rtulMM 


n 


MMlbC 


A  litdc  distance  from  the  prow 
Thow  cruiuon  shadows  were : 
I  tura'd  voj  tjv*  opoci  the  d«ck— 

0  ChriMi   wbK  taw  I  there! 

Each  eorse  ky^  flu,  lifeten  and  flat, 
Aad,  by  the  hol^r  rood! 
A  RUD  all  bght,  a  scrapli>aun, 
Oa  evtrj  cone  there  stood. 

This  Bo^il^^Mid,  «ach  waved  liis  haed: 
It  was  a  beaTcnly  Hght! 
Thcjr  stood  as  sij;iMk  to  the  land, 
Eaich  one  a  lovely  light; 

Tins  seraflfbAod,  each  waved  ha  hand. 
No  mice  did  tbey  impart — 
No  voice;   but  O,  fix  ulcnce  tank 
Like  music  on  my  heart. 

But  *ooa  I  beard  the  dash  of  oats, 

1  beard  the  Ptlot'i  cheer  j 

My  head  was  tum'd  perforce  away, 
And  I  Hw  R  boat  tfftu. 


AadawMtla 
■Mtonhtew 


t*s 


SAMUEL  TAYLOR  COLERmOE 

The  Pilot  lad  the  Pilot's  boy, 

I  hrird  thrm  conimg  fast: 

Df^  Lord  in  Hnrnil    it  wu  s  jojr 

The  dud  mm  could  not  fafaat. 

I  MW  a  third — I  beiud  bis  toicei 

It  is  the  Hermit  j;ood ! 

He  (iingcth  loud  his  godly  bymna 

Thit  be  makes  in  tbc  wood. 

He'll  abricvu  my  soul,  hell  wash  away 

The  Albattoss's  blood. 


Tkc  I  leimll 


Ibc  fhip  mitb 


0(0 


Part  VIl 

'Th»  benntt  £0od  lites  in  that  wood 
Which  Klop<--s  down  lo  the  ml 
How  loudly  his  swat  race  he  tun  I 
He  loves  to  t>Ik  with  mariaem 
Thai  came  froni  a  far  conotne. 


He  koccls  M  tnom,  sad  noon,  and 
He  hatb  a  cinbion  plump: 
It  is  the  muM  ihjt  wboUy  bides 
The  totted  old  i>)k-!ciump. 

The  akiff-boai  tn-w'd:    I  beard  them  talk, 
"Why,  this  is  strange,  I  trow! 
Wbcrc  arc  those  light*  so  nuny  >nd  hit. 
That  signal  made  but  now  J" 

"StDDge,  by  my  faiih! "  the  Hcrsiii  sdJ— 

"And  tbey  xnswci*d  not  our  chml 

Tbe  plunks  look  warp'd  I  and  sec  tbMc  siil^ 

How  tbm  they  are  and  am ! 

I  nrrcT  txw  augbt  like  to  than. 

Unless  perchance  it  wen 


SAMUEL  TAYLOR  COL&RIDGE 

Srawn  skeletons  of  ln*C3  thM  bg 

My  foRst-brouk  alonf ; 

When  the  ivy-tod  ■■  heavy  whh  «im>w, 

And  the  owlet  wbixips  to  the  wolf  bekw, 

Ttux  ens  the  sbc-woir»  young." 

"  Dcv  Lord !    it  luth  a  liendixli  look — 
(The  PikM  RMk  reply) 
I  MB  jH&tf'd."— "  Posh  on,  push  oa  1  * 
Sud  the  HennJt  cheerily. 

The  biMt  came  clotcf  lo  tJic  ship. 
But  I  DPT  spake  noi  stin'd; 
'Hie  boM  came  close  beneath  the  ship, 
And  straight  a  xwnd  wni  heard. 

Under  the  water  it  tvmbled  uo,  d^^if*"* 

StUI  louder  and  more  dmd: 

h  tcach'd  the  shiji,  it  splii  tlie  bay; 

The  ship  weoi  down  like  IemL 

Stsnn'd  by  thJt  toud  and  drc^idful  wuod,  tvikIcm 

VrhKh  ifcy  aod  ocean  smote,  wmltatbi 

Like  one  that  hatb  been  seven  days  drawn'd    "'m'*^"" 

My  body  lay  afloat; 

But  swiit  OS  dteanu,  nyscEf  I  finnd 

Within  the  Pilot's  boat. 

Upun  the  whirl,  where  tank  the  chip, 

TIk  boat  spm  rouDd  aod  round  ; 

And  «ll  was  sull,  save  that  tlw  hill 

Was  trlfiog  of  the  sound. 

I  mOTtd  my  Bft — the  I^lot  shiiek'd 
And  fdl  down  in  a  £t; 
'("he  hoJy  Hermit  raited  hi*  eyc«, 
Asd  prsy'd  where  he  did  lit. 

6» 


SAMUEL  TAYLOR  COLERIDGE 


TIn  Micltnl 
Muliifi 
cUhOBily  en- 

I  Ipnnti  I* 
■li>l«vc  hkn ; 
kniltbc  an- 
■im  e(  Jllr 
kJI«  on  Jitm. 


And  'vr 

Hnd  ADort 

itllDUfbOBl 

hit  rulor*  life 

hlin  lo  tiavcl 
from  liD J  la 


1  took  the  o»n:    ibc  Pilot'*  boy, 

Wlio  aow  doth  crazy  go^ 

Luigh'd  loud  and  long,  and  aB  the  while 

H»  ryes  went  to  4iid  fro. 

"Ha!   ha!"    <{uoth  lur,  "full  ]>lun  I  Me 

The  Devil  knows  bow  to  row." 

And  now,  a!l  in  my  own  counmv, 

I  stood  00  the  firm  Undl 

Tiw  Hermit  stejiji'd  fortlj  from  Uw  l»*i,j 

And  scarcely  he  could  stand. 

"  O  shricre  me,  shnere  me,  lioly  man  I ' 
The  Hermit  cron'd  hit  brow. 
"  Siy  quick,"  ^uoih  he,  "  I  bid  thee  »*y— 
What  manner  of  man  art  tliou?'* 

Fonhwith  thb  frame  oi  mine  ym  wicnch'd 
With  a  woful  *tf»j, 
Which  forced  Rie  to  begin  my  lale; 
And  then  It  left  nie  frer. 

Since  then,  «  ao  uncertain  hour. 
That  agony  returw: 
And  till  my  glustly  tale  i>  tflld, 
This  heart  witliin  me  burns. 

I  pas,  like  night,  from  land  to  brnt; 
1  have  strange  pov'cr  of  speech ; 
That  momrtit  thai  his  &ce  I   sec, 
I  know  the  man  that  must  bear  me: 
To  him  my  tale  I  icadi. 

What  loud  uproar  bursts  from  tliat  doocT 
The  wedding-guests  arc  there: 
But  in  the  garden-bower  the  bride 
And  bride-maids  singing  are: 


&|8 


SAMUEL  TAYLOR  COLERIDGE 


And  hiik,  ifae  link  teaper  btll, 
Wliich  biddnh  me  u  fnjtil 

O  Wrddtng-Gunt  I    (lib  »oul  lutK  bcca 
AIoDC  on  a  widr,    wide  m: 
80  I01KI7  'twu,  th«t  Cod  llifluclf 
Scarce  tccmM  there  lo  he. 

O  sweeter  thu  the  numi^e-rmn, 
Ti*  cwoeur  far  (o  mc, 
To  walk  (ogcthir  to  the  kirk 
Wiih  *  cuodly  cofiifunjr! — 

To  walk  togethcf  to  the  kirfc, 

Aad  kll  tognbcT  pray, 

Wliilc  etcb  to  bis  gmt  Fathrr  bends. 

Old  IBCO,  ind  UUs,  and  loripg  fncndSi 

And  joaiia  tnd  iiiuidcn:»  gay  t 

FirewcU,  £mwell !   but  this  I  tcU 
To  thee.  tboQ  WeAEng-GueM ! 
He  pnpcth  wdt,  who  loreth  w«ll 
Both  nuB  and  bard  and  bean. 

He  pnTclh  facU,  who  loretb  best 
All  tfainp  both  great  and  anull ; 
For  the  dear  God  who  lotteth  us, 
He  made  asd  bmh  alL' 

The  Huinv,  wboM  eye  b  bright, 
WbOM  beard  with  >ft  a  boat, 
I*  gOM:   aad  now  tbe  Wedding-GueK 
Toni'd  fram  the  bridegrtMm'x  door. 

He  went  lUie  one  that  hath  btco  Muon'd, 
And  is  of  tenae  fodom : 
A  udder  and  a  wiser  naa 
He  tow  tbe  morrow  nom. 

I* 


And  tDfacb, 
hy  bli  irto 

•UiUin 
IkMCoJ 


«tg 


SAMUEL  TAYLOR  COLERIDGE 

//o.  Kubla  KbiiH 

T  N  Xaaadu  did  Kubb  KKm 
*    A  fttucly  plcatnrc-dooic  decree: 
Wtiere  A)ph,  ibe  sacred  river,  rxa 
Through  civeros  measureless  lo  rmo 

Down  to  a  sonleu  sea. 
So  twice  Tivc  miln  of  fenjlc  ground 
With  wails  and  lo>-cra  were  gjrdled  rouod; 
Attd  tlierc  were  garden  bright  with  siaiKMU  rilb 
Where  hloMOtn'd  iruny  «n  iocccie-beariog  titei 
And  )iere  were  fomtt  ucicnt  u  the  hilb, 
Ecfolding  sunny  spou  of  greenery. 

But  O,  tim  deep  ronuoiic  chtun  which  sbnitd 
Dowa  the  gnm  hill  athwart  a  cedani  ooi^l 
A  sa\^e  place  I   aa  holy  aad  cocbanted 
As  e'er  betmith  a  wmiag  mooa  waa  haunted 
By  wonun  nailing  for  lier  detnon-lorer  I 
And  from  thi*  ckL^m,  with  cwiatlaa  turmoil 
As  if  this  c.iTih  in  ixtx.  thick  pants  were 
A  mighty  fountain  momctiily  wa&  forced  j 
Amid  who6c  swift  half-tutenmited  Uvat 
Huge  (ragraeota  vaulted  Jtlte  rcboundii^  hail, 
Or  chaffy  gma  hconuh  the  thn:sl>eT*s  Sail: 
And  'mid  these  dsccing  rocks  at  once  acd  trer 
It  flung  up  momcndy  the  i.Krcd  river. 
Fiv«  miles  mcandeting  with  a  maxy  motion 
Through  wood  and  dale  the  sacted  rivrr  ran, 
Thai  i«ach'd  the  cafcm*  mKisiirelcM  to  mw, 
And  sank  in  tumult  to  a  lifeless  oceaa: 
And  'mid  this  tumult  Kubla  heard  from  far 
Aocesml  voices  prophesying  war! 
•id 


SAMUEL  TAYLOR  COLERIDGB 

Tht  ^ilow  of  the  dome  of  picawre 

Plotted  midway  on  the  witm; 
Wbnv  was  besril  the  mingled  BWMMt 
Ftoni  ilie  fouMaia  sod  the  cms. 
tl  vrts  a  minde  of  nir  derior, 
A  WBiijr  |)lnsiit«>dome  wiib  cavei  cf  u:«! 

A  <UiB9d  with  a  ddctnKr 
In  1  niioo  ooce  I  uwi 

It  ivu  an  Abjriwiiaii  maid. 
And  00  bcr  duldincr  ihe  pla/dt 

Sisgiiig  of  Moont  Abon. 

Codd  I  t«riT«  within  lat. 

Her  symfitonj  and  »oti)i, 
To  such  a  deep  delight  'twould  win  ne. 
That  with  music  loud  and  long, 
I  would  build  titti  done  in  air, 
Thai  aonny  dome  1   thotte  caves  of  ice ! 
Aod  aU  who  heard  should  >ee  them  ihne. 
And  all  should  ay,   Bcwan;!    Beware! 
His  flashiDg  eyes,  hit  Houiog  hair  I 
WesTe  3  circle  niuod  liim  tlince, 

And  dose  your  e)-es  v-iih  holy  dnai. 

For  be  on  boncydew  hath  fi^l, 
Aad  drank  the  milk  of  Paiadisc. 


ALL  thoo^cs,  all  pusions,  all  defighn, 
■**■    Whatever  stirs  that  moRal  fiane. 
All  arc  b«t  nunsUrs  of  Love, 
And  leed  his  aacrcd  flame. 


jANfUEL  TAYLOR  COLERIDGE 

Oft  in  in<r  wakicg  dreams  do  I 
Live  o'er  tpiin  ibat  Iu|if7  boia, 
When  midway  on  the  mmiat  1  hy, 
Bcwlc  the  niia'd  tower. 

The  moontluQe,  stealiag  o'tt  ihc  scene. 
Hiid  bkoded  tt-iih  the  ligbu  uf  cte  i 
And  she  WW  Uktv.  my  hope,  my  joy. 
My  own  dui  GcncTien ! 

She  Icao'd  sgaioK  the  unM  mas, 

The  Bucuc  of  tbc  «mM  Koighti 

She  stood  and  liweo'd  to  my  l«y. 

Amid  the  ling^og  It^t. 

Pew  sorrows  hath  she  of  her  own. 
My  hope!    my  joyl    my  Ctncvieiel 
She  lo*c£  mc  hea  whene'er  I  ung 
The  w>Dgs  tlut  nuke  lier  £iic>«. 

I  play'd  a  soft  and  doleliil  air  | 
I  Kuig  an  old  and  tnoviag  norr~— 
An  old  nide  song,  that  luiicd  well 
Tlut  nriu  wild  aad  hoaiy. 

She  liscen'd  with  a  fliuing  blmh, 
Whh  dowDcan  cyn  aod  niodcK  grace; 
For  well  she  Imcw  I  could  not  cIiooh 
But  gai«  upon  ber  face. 

1  told  hn  of  the  Knight  that  won 
Upon  his  shield  a  bntaing  brud; 
And  that  for  ten  long  jnrs  be  woo'd 
The  Lady  of  the  Lrad. 


SAMUEL  TAYLOR  COLERIDGE 

I  told  ber  how  he  ptnei);    ind  ah  I 
Tbc  <lce|>,  ihr  low,  tbe  pluding  tone 
Wiih  which  I  sang  aaother's  low, 
Intetprcttd  oiy  own. 

She  liucn'd  with  ■  ftttliRg  biwibr 
With  dovncast  ryes  a»d  modmt  grace  i 
And  die  fofs^ve  me,  tliat  I  giicd 
Too  (bodly  on  her  f>eel 

Bm  wlieo  I  told  the  croel  wom 
Thu  ermd  that  bold  «nd  \o\x\j  Kniglit, 
And  that  be  crou'd  the  mountain- wood*^ 
Nor  reued  diy  oor  oiglH: 

Thu  MOietitnes  fnm  the  savage  den. 
And  niiMtiinet  fron  Uie  darksome  shade, 
Aiid  MinetiiBrs  staitiog  up  at  o»ce 

In  green  and  sudny  glade- 
There  came  and  lookM  him  in  die  face 
An  angel  beautiful  aad  br^hti 
And  that  be  knew  it  wu  a  Ficad, 

This  miMtable  Knight  I 

And  that,  anknowing  what  he  did, 
He  leap'd  amid  >  murderous  band. 
And  satrd  frota  ouinge  war«c  than  do;iih 
The  L»dy  of  the  Land  :— 

And  how  she  wept  and  clasp'd  hb  knees ; 
And  how  she  tctxled  htm  in  vain — 
Aitd  erer  strorc  to  expiate 

The  scois  that  cmed  hb  brain  j— 

4t> 


^ 

SAMUEL  TAYLOR  COLERIDGE      1 

And  thu  fiie  noracd  him  in  a  cant          1 

Aod  how  his  midBCM  went  BWay,               M 

Wboi  on  the  yellow  fomt  (etm          ^H 

A  dying  naa  be  lajr  i—                ^^M 

His  dying  wonh— but  when  I  rcneli'd        1 

That  inidemt  ama  ct  all  ihe  diny,          1 

My  fjitrririg  roice  and  pausing  harp       ^^1 

I>tstwb'd  ber  Mid  with  pity  t          ^H 

All  impulses  of  soul  and  amst              ^^M 

Had  thriU'd  my  gniletm  Geaerietei           1 

^^^^^m                          Tbe  imuic  and  the  doleltil  tale,              ^^1 

^^^^^H                                 The  tkli  and  hJmy  ne;                ^^M 

^^^^^^M                        And  hopes  3"d  fnn  that  lundk  bopc^^^Hj 

^^^^H                    An  undistin^i^habtc  throDg, 

^^^^^H                        And  geatlc  uiahcs  looi;  subdued, 

^^^^^^1                                 Subdued  and  cherish'd  long! 

^^^^^B                         She  wrp  intk  pity  and  de&ght. 

^^^^^1                       She  hlu^h'd  with  ioie  and  virgin  shame  i 

^^^^^H                         And  like  the  munnur  of  a  drnm, 

^^^^^1                              I  heard  hrr  bfeatfae  ny  name. 

^^^^K                           Her  bo«o>n  hnrcd — she  stepp'd  Midc^ 

^^^^^L                            As  conscious  of  my  look  she  strpt— 

^^^^H                           Then  suddenly,  with  linwrona  eye 

^^^^H                                She  fled  to  aie  and  wept. 

^^^^^ft                         She  half  encloMd  ine  with  her  arms, 

^^^^^M                         She  piess'd  me  with  a  mctk  embrace; 

^^^^P                           And  beading  back  lier  head,  look'd  np, 

^^^^^L                              And  gncd  upon  my  fitcc. 

^^^H 

SAMUEL  TAYLOR  COLEEUDGE 

Tvat  panljr  lorr,  and  fordy  ftWi 
And  prtiy  'twas  a  bcMlifu]  ar, 
Ttut  I  might  ntber  fed,  tfaan  sec, 
The  iweUiBg  of  her  hon, 

I  cslm'd  bcT  fears,  and  the  wm  cabn, 
;And  told  brr  Iotc  with  Tirgjo  pride; 
And  »  t  won  my  Getwricre, 

My  bright  aad  bnutcous  Bride. 


r*- 


Twir/i  Attil  jige 


\7ERSE,  a  b««e  'mid  blovwmi  nraytng, 
*     Where  Hope  clung  ferdiog,  Iik«  a  b«— 
Both  were  mine!     Life  wvnc  a-mtyinj 
With  Nature,  Hope,  and  Poesy, 

When  1  was  youtt^l 
When  I  was  young  f — Ah,  woful  Whonl 
Ah  t    for  ilie  change  'twixt  Now  and  Then  1 
Tbb  braufaiag  house  wA  built  wiili  hands, 
Thtt  bodj  that  does  roe  grim«9  wron^ 
O'er  aoy  difls  aod  fjliiteHiq  sands, 
How  lightly  then  it  fl.uh'd  along — 
Like  thoKc  trim  slu£,  uiJutown  of  yore, 
On  winding  bics  and  mcrs  wide. 
That  nk  no  aid  of  B«il  or  oar. 
That  fear  no  spite  of  wind  or  tide  I 
Niaght  cared  tliis  body  fiat  wind  or  weatlier 
Whm  YoDth  and  I  lircd  in 't  together. 

Flower*  are  lovetyt    Lore  in  flower-like; 
Frieodship  is  ■  aheltciing  im; 


SAMUEL  TAYLOR  COLERIDGE 

O   the  jojrs  thai  came  <lavn  showcr-likc 
or  Friendship,  Love,  mi  Lihcny, 

£n  1  WM  old  I 
Ere  I  wss  old?    Ah,  wolvl  Etc, 
Which  te|]»  me.  Youth '»  no  longer  here  I 

0  Youth !    for  ycara  90  nuiny  xnd  swcn, 
Tis  known  that  ihou  Mid  I  were  one; 
rn  tliiok  it  but  a  food  cooceii— 
It  cannot  be  that  thou  art  gone ! 
Thy  •esper-bcll  luth  not  yet  toli'd— 
And  thmi  wcrt  aye  a  maikcr  bold ! 
^^'h>t  Strang  disguite  han  now  put  on. 
To  make  believe  thai  tho«  vt  gone! 

1  »ee  xhnc  locks  in  tilrery  xlijw, 
Tliis  diDOpng  gait,  ihb  Ahcr'd  hk  s 
But  springtide  blowocns  o«i  thy  lipSi 
And  tean  ttke  sunshine  from  ihiae  eyes  I 
Life  b  bill  thought:    so  think  I  will 
Th»t  Youth  and  I  are  bou»inaies  stitl. 

Oewdrojx  are  the  gem*  of  iBoming, 
But  the  leurs  of  mournful  eve  ! 
Where  no  hope  is,  life's  a  w-jraing 
That  only  serves  to  make  us  grieve, 

\Vbeo  «e  are  eld) 
That  only  serve*  to  make  nt  grieve 
With  oft  nnd  tedious  taking-leave. 
Like  »omc  poor  nighrelAicd  pie« 
That  may  not  rudely  be  dismisi. 
Yet  hath  out^tay'd  his  welcome  while, 
And  tells  tJie  jest  without  tlie  smile. 


I 


SAMUEL  TAYLOR  COLERIDGE 
rXS.      Time,  Real  anJ  /magtn&rj 

Alt  ALLEGOIT 

ON  the  wide  lerel  of  a  mo'jnuin's  hrad 
(I  knew  BM  where,  but  'twas  Mme  &»ery  place), 
TiKtf  paniom,  ooricb-iilie,  lor  sails  ouupresd, 
T«Ki  lovely  cKildrtn  ran  an  cndlru  race, 
A  sister  and  a  brother  I 
Thi*  br  otMMripp'd  itie  oiheri 
Vet  enr  nini  rfie  with  rtTCfttd  face. 
And  looks  and  linois  for  the  boy  bdiind: 
For  be,  ^ai !    it  blind ! 
0*«r  raujh  and  nnooth  wiili  mn  stqt  be  |)«M*d, 
AcmJ  knam  not  wlietSer  he  be  first  or  Int. 


"Vj-^.  /^i7nt  VBttboat  Hope 

ALL  Niure  secnu  at  work.    Slug's  leave  their  Im^— 
■'^     Tbe  bee*  are  sdrrii^ — birds  arc  on  the  wing— 
And  Winter,  slmibenng  in  tbe  open  air, 
Weara  on  bis  nraUng  Hat  a  dream  of  Spring! 
And  I,  the  wlule,  the  sole  unb«»y  thbft. 
Nor  honey  nake,  aor  pair,  nor  biuld,  oor  sinj;. 

Yet  well  I  ken  the  books  vhtrc  amaranths  blow. 
Have  traced  the  Itiuai  wlieocc  &treaini  of  nectar  Aow. 
Bloom,  0  ye  anuranthsl    bloom  for  whom  ye  lujiy. 
For  roe  ye  btoom  BOtt    Glide,  rich  «i«ms.  jwayt 
With  lips  uBbrij|ht«n'd.  wmtliles*  brow.   1  stroll  i 
And  would  you  k-iin]  tlie  ipdls  that  drowic  my  soul? 
Work  witliCRit  Hope  draws  nectar  in  a  sicre, 
And  Hope  without  an  object  cannot  live. 


SMiUEL  TAYLOR  COLERIDGE 


TTT-  Glycine'i  Smg 

A    SUNNY  shaft  did  I  bfhold. 
'^     From  tky  to  earth  it  slwMcdi 
And  pMs«d  thcfPin  a  biid  *o  bold— 
Swc«t  bird,  ihou  wcrt  cRcliAmed  I 

He  unk,  he  row,  be  twiakkd,  he  troU'd 
Wiihio  that  shaft  of  sunnj  mtM  t 

His  eyes  of  (ire,  his  beak  of  goM, 
All  dw  of  amcthytt  ! 

And  thttt  he  sang:   ' Adieu  1   adkul 
Love's  diraiitt  prorc  sddon  true. 
The  bloswms,  they  make  m  deUyi 
The  sparking  dcw-dtops  will  Mt  suy. 
Sweet  rooolh  of  Mayi 
We  most  away; 
Far,  far  away ! 
To-day!   to-day [' 


ROBERT  SOUTHEY 
yytS.  His  Books 

MY  days  tmao^  the  Dead  are  pott 
Amutd  me  I  beboM, 
Where'er  these  casoal  eyes  are  CKk, 

The  mighty  minds  of  old : 
My  Dcver-lailing  friend*  m  they, 
Wth  whom  I  eodTcrsc  day  by  day. 


ROBERT  SOUTHEY 

With  tbrm  I  ukc  delight  in  w«al 

And  vxk  rrlirf  in  vt» ; 
Aad  while  I  undrrwtnd  and  (tel 

How  iDttch  to  thm  I  owe. 
My  checks  hate  often  been  beArw'd 
WiUi  team  of  thoughtful  ftradttxle. 

My  thoughts  are  with  the  Dend;   with  them 

I  live  in  lonf;-[xi>t  yexn. 
Their  rittue^  lovi-,  iheii  fzalts  condemn, 

Partake  their  hopes  and  fcan; 
And  from  tbnr  lesMu  Mrk  .-ind  litMl 
Instniciioo  with  an  humble  mind. 

My  hope*  are  with  the  Dead ;    inoa 

My  plior  with  ihwi  will  be. 
And  I  tvith  them  iihall  tmrel  on 

Through  alt  Fuwiity; 
Ytt  Innnf;  here  a  raior,  I  imtt, 
Thu  win  Doi  petiah  in  the  duEC 


WALTER  SAVAGE  LANDOR 

Vf7.  The  Maid's  Lament 

■rrj-M* 

1    LOVED  him  not;    and  yet  now  he  a  gone, 
^  I  feel  t  am  alone. 

I  dwck'd  him  while  be  spoke;    yet.  cooU  he  ^eal^ 

Alas  I    I  wottM  not  check. 
For  rea-ions  not  to  love  him  once  I  soa^t, 
And  wctfied  all  my  thought 


WALTER  SAVAGE  LANDOR 

To  vex  mysdf  umI  htra  i    I  WW  woold  ^tc 

My  lore,  could  be  bat  liie 
Who  lairly  ItTrd  for  me,  and  when  he  found 

TwM  TMn,  tn  hoty  groand 
He  h*d  hb  face  amid  the  shade*  of  death, 

I  wute  for  him  my  biralh 
Who  waited  hix  (or  me;    but  mine  n 

And  this  lorn  botom  bom 
With  stilling  \vtMy  herring  it  up  in  sleep. 

And  wikiiif;  me  to  weep 
Tern  thiit  bul  melted  bis  soft  beart:    for  ynn 

Wept  be  as  Utter  teara, 
'  MereifijI  Cod  I  '   such  was  hi»  lateM  ptayvr, 

'Thcw  may  she  never  share!* 
QuietfT  is  bis  bresih,  liis  brrsa  more  cold 

Tlian  daisies  in  the  mocddi 
Where  children  spell,  sthwarr  the  rhurchyird 

His  name  and  life's  brief  due. 
Pnj  for  turn,  Jtcctle  souls,  whoe'er  you  be, 

And,  O,  pray  loo  lor  me! 


AH,  what  aTails  the  sceptred  matX 
^^     Ah,  whu  the  fbnn  divine  I 
What  ereiy  rirtue,  e»tiy  grtcel 
Row  Aylmer,  all  w«re  ihtne. 

RoK  Aytmer,  whom  these  wakefiil  eyes 

May  weep,  bu«  never  see, 
A  tiigtii  of  memories  and  sight 

I  consecrate  to  thee. 


WALTER  SAVAGE  LANUOR 

pROM  you,  bmlic,  little  trouUe*  (mm 
^       Like  liuk  Ht^'lcs  dowa  a  suaoj  riwri 
Your  pJUMtn  ipriog  like  daisies  ia  the  grut, 
Cat  dovn^  ind  i^  >{;>■»  a*  blithe  a«  ever. 

/rfo.  Tvsent/  Tears  hence 

'yWENTV  jreaw  licaoe  my  e)'e»  may  grow, 
'       If  oot  ({uke  difn,  yet  rather  to  i 
Yet  youn  fram  othcre  they  shall  kiMW, 
Twenty  yrara  bcncc. 

Twenty  years  hence,  though  it  my  hap 
That  I  be  call'd  to  uke  a  nap 
In  4  cool  cell  where  thuoder-cbp 
Wu  nerei  heard. 

There  btwbe  b«  o'er  my  arch  of  g,na» 
A  not  too  sadly  sighM  'Alas!' 
And  I  shall  caidt,  ere  you  can  pas, 
That  wtngtd  u'ord. 


Ferst 

pAST  rain'd  Uion  Helen  Kres, 
*        Alceatis  rises  from  the  shades; 
Verse  caDs  them  forA;    'tis  rerve  that  gives 
ImnMnal  youth  to  moml  tiudds. 

Soon  shall  Oblivkn's  deepening  veil 
Hide  lU  the  peopled  bills  yuu  see. 

The  j;ay,  (he  proud,  while  loren  hail 
These  many  tumiacrs  you  and  me. 

Ml 


WALTER  SAVAGE  LANDOR 

j62.    'PivuJ  H'ord yott  never  spoke 

pKOUI)  word  ygu  ocvrr  simke,  bat  you  will 
'        Four  not  exempt  from  prick  some  fature  d»}. 
Resting  on  one  wliite  haod  a  wm  wet  ctieek, 
OwT  my  open  t-olume  jrou  will  say, 
'This  mxn  loved  nw'— thco  rise  and  trip  amy. 

f<Sj,  Jtesignatiw 

VV7HV,  why  repioe,  my  pensive  (nevA, 

*^       At  pleuuies  slipp'd  away  i 
Some  the  xiem  Fates  will  never  lend, 
And  all  rcitite  to  *uy. 

I  Mc  ilic  rainbow  in  ilic  sky, 

The  deiv  upoa  the  Biaaei 
I  Me  theni,  and  I  ask  not  why 

They  (tlitioKr  or  tbey  pass. 

With  folded  arms  1  linger  not 
To  call  them  back;    'twm  tain: 

In  this,  or  in  some  other  ^>ot, 
I  know  tlicy"!]  shine  agsia. 

f6^.  Mother,  I  cannot  mmd  my  ffheel 

jlif  OTHER,  I  csonot  mind  my  wlied; 
*■'*■     My  fingers  ache,  my  lips  ate  dry: 
O,  if  you  felt  ilie  paio  1  fe«l ! 
But  O,  who  ever  fek  as  If 

No  longer  could  I  doubt  him  true— > 

AH  other  men  may  use  deceit; 
He  ^w.iyt  said  tny  eyes  were  Uu^ 

And  olicii  sit'ofc  my  lipa  were  sweet, 

Ota 


WALTER  SAVAGli  LANDOR 


yttttumn 

\^ILD  b  ibe  partiag  year,  and  iweet 
'^'^     The  odoor  of  the  falling  spajr^ 
Life  paues  oo  more  mdeljt  fleet, 

Aod  balmltaa  is  in  clonoj;  day. 
I  wait  ki  dose,  I  couix  ta  gloom, 

Qut  moujD  ttMt  DcTcr  mti^t  Uicie  fall 
Or  on  i»y  breast  or  od  my  tomb 

"Die  tear  thai  would  have  sooibed  h  jSL 


96.  Remain ! 

p  EMAIN,  ab  not  in  youtli  ilooc! 

*^     — Tho'  yoBib,  where  you  aie,  tooj  will  «ay- 

Udt  wbca  my  naiuiwr  days  arc  gone, 

And  ny  antumiul  huce  away. 
'  Cm  t  it  m/hmjm  ij  JMV  JK^  f ' 

No;  but  liiG  bovfs  yoa  can,  yoa  nust, 
Nor  rise  at  Dedth'a  approaching  stride, 

Kur  go  when  du»  is  £i»e  to  dut. 

7,  jibstntx 

LI  ERE,  eiVT  BDce  you  went  abroad, 
^  ^     If  there  be  cban^,  no  cbaoge  I  kc; 
I  only  walk  our  wonted  road, 
Tbe  road  b  only  wilk'd  by  me. 

Ym;    1  lorfoti  a  dunge  there  ia— 
Wat  h  S(  Aat  yov  bade  me  idl  f 

I  catch  at  timet,  at  times  1  tins* 

The  Hgfat,  the  tcoc,  ]  kaow  m  welL 


WALTER  SAVAGE  LAMDOR 

Onljr  IWD  nMoUa  lioce  you  mood  htnf 
Two  thortm  months!   Then  ccU  me  why 

Voices  aro  btrslxr  thaa  tkey  wtrr, 
And  teua  are  latter  ere  ibey  dry. 


f6S. 


Of  ClcmtnlMa 


IN  ClenieoboaS  viina  mica 
*■      Lucilla  iuk«  me  what  I  see, 
And  are  tlie  roso  of  uxteen 
EDougb  for  met 

LuciUi  asks,  if  thai  be  all, 

Have  I  not  cuU'd  as  sweet  bcfbrei 
Ab  yes,  Lucilla  I    and  their  fall 
I  still  deplore. 

I  now  behold  another  scene, 

Where  Pleaiwre  bcanis  wi4  HeaTtn's  own 
More  pure,  more  consiaot,  more  aereae, 
And  not  lew  bci(^ 

Faith,  an  whote  breast  the  Lores  repose. 

Whose  chain  of  flouere  no  force  caa  sever, 
And  Modesty  who,  when  she  goes, 
U  gone  for  ertt. 


fgf.  fantbe's  ^ufsthit 

'  T\0  you  remcmbei  nK?  or  are  yoo  jboimJ?' 
'"^     Lightly  adwiciog  thro'  her  star-trimm'd 
iRDthc  said,  and  look'd  into  my  eyes. 
'  A  jtf/,  a  yri  lo  boib ;   for  Memory 
Where  you  but  once  have  been  mttst  ever  b^ 
And  at  your  raioc  Pride  from  his  (faroDe  must 


WALTER  SAVAGE  LANDOR 


/70.  On  Catullus 

'T'ELL  nw  dm  wb*t  100  well  I  Jcdow 
'■      About  •Cut  bmd  of  Sinnm. 

Yes,  in  TMia's  soo 
Socb  ttaiaa  there  are— m  wtien  a  Gnce 
SptnUcs  anotlicr^  laughing  ivx 
WUh  DecUf,  and  not  oa. 

J7U  7>ine 

CTAND  cloM  around,  ye  Scygiaa  set, 
*^    With  Dtree  in  oot  bo«  eootcy'dl 
Or  Cbaron,  »edng,  nuy  forget 
•      Tbat  he  it  old  and  abe  a  cliadc. 

S?i.         yllcifhrm  anJ  Lcudpfe 

AN  ancxnt  cbettDui'a  blossoms  Oirew 
^^     Their  hnvy  odoui  over  two ; 
Leucippe,  it  U  mid,  was  oaci 
The  otber,  tlieo,  *a»  Alciphron. 
'Cook,  cotnc !    why  sboulii  we  tund  bcRcoib 
This  boHow  tree's  unwholesome  breath  ? ' 
Said  Alciphron,  *  hen 's  not  a  blade 
Of  ffva  or  moss,  and  sciniy  tJiade. 
Cotnei    it  u  juu  the  Iwui  to  rove 
In  the  lone  dingle  iJicphcrds  lore ; 
There,  iinight  and  t^l,  the  hazel  twig 
Ditridei  the  crooLM  mck-held  lig. 
O'er  the  Mim  ptfabkt  where  the  rill 
Id  wimcr  rwn  nd  may  run  still. 
Come  tlm,  while  fresh  and  oJin  the  air, 
Aod  while  the  ihepiierdft  are  not  there.' 


B~ 

HP 

WALTER  SAVAGE  LANDOR 

^^^^^^^^  Ltweifft. 

But  I  would  rather  go  when  tliey 
Sit  round  about  nod  sing  and  ptHf. 
Then  why  m  hurty  me  i  ht  yoj 
Like  play  aod  wag,  aod  shepherd*  too. 

^^^^^^        /Oci^trm. 

[  lilie  the  shepherds  very  well, 
And  9ong  and  play,  as  you  can  cril. 
But  there  is  ]ilay,  I  sadly  fear, 
And  song  1  would  not  hate  jou  hear. 

^^^^^^^^^^^M           £,ttwtppfr 

What  can  h  be?    What  can  h  be? 

^^^^H               Akipinm. 

To  you  may  none  of  tbem  repeat 
The  play  that  you  hare  pUy'd  with  me, 
The  MDg  tliat  nude  your  bosom  beat. 

^^^^^B          Lrmfft. 

Don't  keep  your  arm  about  my  waist. 

^^^^^^V        Altipbm. 

Might  you  nut  Hunibic?                     ^^H 

^^^^^H             Ltltif^. 

Well  then,  dd^V 
Bat  why  are  we  b  aD  this  haste?          ^^^| 

^^^^^^M          jtlripbna. 

To  sing.                                                   ^^M 
Alasl  and  not  play  too?    "^^^f 

^^^B              S7i. 

Tears                       ^^M 

^^^^^^1                  '      Sunie  hare  crqit  on,  and  90Cne  hare  flam   V 
^^^^^^^P                Since  lint  bdorc  me  fell  thme  tern               ^^^H 
^^^^^^^B                     I  oern  coultl  see  (all  alone.                        ^^^H 

^^^^^^1                \fu%  not  BO  iDKoy,  are  to  cofne,                  ^^^| 
^^^^^^^^                    Yean  ooi  w  varied,  wtieo  FrQin  you          ^^^H 
^^^^^^1               One  more  will  fall:   when,  carnvd  hornet           ^M 
^^^^^^^1                    I  see  R  Dot,  nor  bear  jfSeu,                       ^^^| 

^^^^^1 

^^^^^H 

WALTER  SAVAGE  LANDOR 


S74.  SepaTatim 

'  I  'HERE  is  a  raououio  and  a  wood  between  us, 
■*      Where  the  looe  shepheid  and  late  Wrd  have  seen  us 

Morning  and  noon  and  eventide  repass. 
Between  us  now  the  mountain  and  the  wood 
Seem  Standing  darker  than  last  fcar  the;  stood, 

And  sajr  we  must  not  cross — alasl   alasl 


//J".  Late  Leaves 

n^HE  leaves  are  falling;    so  am  I; 
^      The  few  late  flowen  have  moisture  in  the  eye  j 
So  have  I  too. 
Scarcely  on  any  bough  is  heard 
Joyous,  or  even  unjoyous,  Irird 
The  whole  wood  through. 

Winter  may  come:    he  brings  but  nigher 
His  circle  (yearly  narrowing)  to  the  fire 

Where  old  friends  meet. 
Let  him ;    DOW  heaven  is  overcast, 
And  spring  and  summer  both  are  past. 

And  all  things  sweet. 


S76.  Finis 

T   STROVE  with  none,  for  none  was  worth  my  strife 
^      Nature  I  loved  and,  next  to  Nature,  Art : 
I  warm'd  both  hands  before  the  lire  of  life ; 
It  sinks,  and  I  am  ready  to  deparL 


CHARLES  LAMB 

S77.        The  Old  Familiar  Faces 

f   HAVE  lud  pbjmuies,  I  hate  bad  companioa(> 

In  m^  <hys  of  childhood,  in  my  joj^  Kbool-dif)- 
AU,  aU  ate  gone,  the  old  famUiBr  faces. 

I  havr  bcrn  laughing,  I  have  bevD  carousiaSi 
Drinkiog  late,  !>itun|t  late,  with  my  boKwn  crodcK— 
All,  all  arc  gooe,  tlie  old  familiar  lacn. 

I  loved  a  Lore  on«e,  f^rc«  among  woiuen: 
CIo«^  are  her  doors  oo  me,  I  nnisi  DOl  see  her — 
All,  all  vc  gone,  the  old  finuliw  faces. 

I  havr  a  friend,  i  kinder  frirnd  has  no  mia: 
Like  an  ingracc,  I  left  my  friend  abnipdy; 
L«fi  Um,  to  matt  on  iht  old  fanailiar  facm. 

Ghou-Iike  1  |xtced  round  the  haunia  of  my  cluklbeo^ 
Eanfa  srcm'd  a  dcscn  I  was  bovnd  lo  tratene, 
Sreking  to  find  the  old  familiar  faon. 

Friend  of  my  botom,  thou  more  than  «  hrotfacr. 
Why  wctt  not  thou  bom  in  my  father's  dwcDiDg! 
So  might  w«  ulk  of  the  old  familiar  fates — 

How  some  they  haTc  died,  and  some  they  haw  Ul  ajij 
And  some  are  Htkeu  from  me;  all  are  departed- 
Alt,  all  are  gone,  the  old  familiar  faces. 


ttB 


CHARLES  LAMS 


F7*. 


Hester 


I 
I 


W^EN  nuidena  micb  u  Hetter  die 
**      TbHr  plwe  ye  may  not  well  supply, 
Though  ye  among  ■  tbouMiid  uy 
With  rain  endunour. 

A  inoath  or  more  bitfa  »be  been  dratl, 
Yet  cannot  I  by  force  be  led 
To  tbink  upon  the  woctny  bed 
And  her  tufelbct. 

A  ipriBgy  moiion  in  hef  giit, 
A  rising  swp,  did  iodicau 
Of  |ride  and  yxf  do  conunon  niet 
That  Ausb'd  her  s|»riti 

I  know  not  by  what  nainc  beside 
I  dull  ii  call  I   if  Wu  not  pride, 
It  was  a  joy  lo  that  allied, 
She  did  inherit. 

Her  parents  bdd  the  Quaker  tuie, 
Which  doili  the  hwnai)  feeling  cool  t 
But  she  was  irain'd  in  Naunv's  school  j 
Nature  had  blest  ber. 

A  waking  eye,  a  ptj'iag  mindt 
A  beiDt  that  stirs,  is  hard  to  Undi 
A  hawk's  keen  ught  ye  cannot  bbodi 
Ye  could  not  Hester. 

My  sptigklly  nci^bour!   gone  befote 
To  tliat  uaknowa  nd  silent  shore, 
SluU  we  not  meet,  as  berciofbrc, 
Soow  sununcr  naonting— 

«9 


CHARLES  UIMB 

Wbcn  from  rti;  dictrinl  eyts  •  r*y 
Hub  BiniL-k  a  btiH  upon  the  diy, 
A  Uiu  that  would  Dot  go  nraj, 
A  sweet  (oniartiutg! 

T7fi.  On  an  Infant  dying  at  Mm  as  hnt 

T  SAW  where  b  tbe  shroud  did  lurk 

*     A  curious  fmoe  of  Nitwr's  work ) 

A  flowcn-t  cnish'd  in  the  bud, 

A  mniclna  piroc  of  Babyhood, 

Wjw  in  hrr  crsdic-coiiin  lying  i 

Extinct,  with  scarce  the  scdk  of  djiagi 

So  toon  to  cKchaoge  the  tmpmonuig  mtnS' 

For  daikcr  dotets  of  the  tomb  I 

Slic  did  but  c^  HI)  ryr,  tad  put 

A  cirar  beam  rorth,  thco  straight  up  ^t 

For  the  long  dwk:    ncVr  more  to  9t« 

Through  g1a&<cs  of  rnoitility. 

Riddle  of  destiny,  wbo  cw  »how 
What  thy  slion  visit  meant,  or  know 
What  thy  crraod  here  bdow? 
Shill  ve  wy  that  Nature  hUnd 

Chcck'd  her  hand,  and  chan^  bcr  nund, 

.lusl  wbrn  she  had  cxsctJy  wrought 

A  lini^h'd  pBilrrn  wiihoui  faidl  i 

Could  she  flag,  or  could  site  tire, 

Or  lack*d  she  the  Promethean  fire 

(With  her  nine  moooa'  long  worfciogt  tickca'*!) 

That  should  thy  litde  limbt  han  qmckrn'd? 

Limbs  so  linn,  they  eccni'd  to  assure 

Life  of  health,  asd  days  maiitiv: 

Woman's  Klf  in  miniature  1 


CHARLES  LAMB 


I 

t 

I 


Limbs  to  ftir,  they  might  vapfty 
(Thtnttclrrt  now  but  cold  inugety) 
Thr  jcttlptor  to  nuke  Beauty  bjr. 
Or  djd  Hie  Uria-rjtd  Fate  dtacry 
TbM  babe  Of  mother,  one  must  <Uet 
So  in  macy  left  the  uock 
And  cut  the  branch  i    to  tart  the  diock 
Of  young  yurt  wklow'd,  and  the  pain 
When  Hngie  nate  comet  back  i^ain 
To  the  looe  man  who,  reft  of  wife, 
ThrncefoTwud  drags  >  nuimM  life? 
The  economy  of  Heaven  is  dtrk, 
And  wisTM  clerks  hare  misi'd  die  tnaik. 
Why  human  buds,   Itke  this,  should  fall, 
More  brief  than  Hy  ephemeral 
That  bu  his  day  i    whik  thrivell'd  cronca 
Stiffai  with  aye  to  Mocks  oad  atoont 
Aad  cnbbid  use  the  oomoence  scan 
Id  aanaen  of  an  hundivd  year*. 

Mother's  paule,  mother'n  kiss, 
Baby  fend,  thou  ne'er  will  miss: 
Rhes,  which  cnnom  doo  irapoce, 
SiltcT  bells,  and  baby  clothes  i 
Coral  re^Uer  than  Uiose  lips 
Which  pale  death  did  law  «dipse| 
Music  framed  for  infaats'  glee, 
WhiKk  oewr  tuned  lor  thee; 
Tbongh  thou  want'st  not,  thou  ahalt  have  ihciti. 
Loving  hearts  verc  they  which  garc  ihem, 
L«l  not  one  be  missing;   nar«e^ 
See  them  bid  ujioc  tlie  hearse 
Of  inlant  slain  by  doom  perretM. 
Why  tbouid  kings  and  nobks  ba?« 

6» 


CHAALES  LAhtB 

Picturtd  tfophics  to  dteit  gnm. 
And  w«,  cburi>,  to  ihn  deny 
Thy  [iretty  toy*  wilh  ihec  to  lie — 
A  more  bsnoless  vanity? 


THOMAS  CAMPBELL 


fSo.        Te  Mariners  of  England 

VE  Marinen  of  EosUiid 
^      That  guard  our  aMi*e  seas  I 
WboM  flag  Kit  braved  »  thouamd  yem 

The  h«xJc  ind  ihc  brecw! 
Your  itlorious  tundArd  launch  again 

To  m«ch  MOthw  foci 
And  nwcvp  thraugli  tiie  deep, 

While  the  Monny  Ki-iodi  do  blow! 
While  ihc  tattle  rage*  loud  aad  long 

And  ibc  Giotmy  wtnds  do  blow. 

The  qiirits  of  your  fathers 

Shall  start  ftora  eiery  wa»e — 
For  the  deck  it  wax  tfaett  lield  of  fame,  < 

Aod  Ocean  wax  thdr  gnrc : 
miei«  Ulakc  and  mighty  Nelvn  (ell 

Your  Ruoly  hearts  shill  glow, 
Ai  ye  itraep  through  the  deep, 

WItile  the  stonny  wiods  do  blow  I 
While  the  battle  ngea  loud  aad  long 

And  the  stonny  wiixli  do  blow. 
Ok 


•TTfta 


THOMAS  CAMPBELL 

Dikaonis  oetds  na  Iwlwsriu, 

No  lewera  along  the  sutpt 
Hrr  iMrch  is  o*«r  the  mowntaia-wiiea, 

H«  liomt  is  on  the  dnrp. 
With  UHaden  from  Iter  natiw  otk 

She  ipiclis  the  Aooda  below, 
As  thtj  roar  on  the  sliore, 

When  the  Kormy  wiocb  do  btowl 
When  the  hiidc  ngr*  loud  and  long, 

And  the  stormy  winds  do  bbw. 

The  meteor  flag  of  En^and 

Shall  yet  ttrrific  bum  t 
TUl  danger's  troublnl  night  dcfon 

And  the  sur  of  peace  ittun. 
Tbm,  ibrn,  ye  occucwaniors  I 

Our  MRg  and  ft:M  itaW  How 
To  the  fame  of  your  nune, 

When  the  stonn  has  cesisrd  to  btowl 
When  th«  fiery  iiglit  b  hcatti  no  mote, 

And  tlie  stoim  lias  ceased  to  blow. 


ft.        The  Battle  of  the  Baltic 

r~\V  Ndson  aod  the  Nonh 

^^     Sing  the  ^onOK*  day's  lenown, 

When  to  hutk  6eree  came  forth 

All  the  might  of  Deomark's  crown. 

And  hct  anu  akMtg  the  deep  proudly  shone; 

By  each  gua  ibo  l^hlcd  brand 

In  a  bold  detcmiMd  hand. 

And  the  Prince  of  all  the  bad 

Led  tlmn  on. 


THOMAS  CAMPBELL 

Like  tcviatluns  ibnt 

Lay  thrir  bulvulw  oo  the  brinC) 

While  tlie  sisn  of  battle  ttcw 

Oo  the  lofty  British  Itnc : 

It  was  ten  of  April  morn  by  the  duiacJ 

As  they  dnTicd  on  their  path 

There  wm  ailmcc  drrf  H  dcMh, 

And  the  butdeM  held  his  breath 

For  a  time. 

But  ilv  might  of  England  flush'd 

To  antictpaic  the  accne ; 

And  hei  vaa  the  fleeter  nish'd 

O'er  the  de&dJy  spwv  brtwcen:  _ 

'Heuu  of  oaki '  our  atpuins  cried,  when  nd  pt 

Prom  its  adamaatine  lips 

Spread  a  dcatb-sliade  round  the  diipSy 

Like  the  hurricaae  eclipse 

Of  the  sun. 

Agml  ag^inl  again  I 

And  the  liavoc  did  oot  »lack, 

Tid  a  fceble  cheer  tlie  Dm* 

To  our  cheering  sent  us  back ; — 

Their  shots  along  the  deep  slowly  booni : — 

Then  ceued — and  all  is  wiil, 

As  they  strike  the  shatter'd  aul, 

Or  in  coinflagnuian  pale 

Light  the  gloonu 

Out  iiputtc  t)ie  nctor  then 
As  lie  hiiil'd  them  o'er  ibc  wsTe: 
*  Ye  are  brotlieis  I    ye  are  men  ! 
And  we  conquer  but  to  saTc:— 


THOMAS  CAMPBELL 

So  ixacc  intirad  of  Aalth  Irt  m  tiring: 
Bm  )irl(J,  Jiroud  foe,  lliy  den. 
With  the  arw»,  K.  bogUnd's  fen. 
And  nuke  subcalsdoo  men 
To  ouf  tUox.'  .  .  . 

Now  jay,  old  Eofjatid,  raise  I 
Fof  the  lidings  of  thy  mi£ht, 
Bjr  the  fesul  cilies'  bla^. 
Whilst  the  wiDC-cup  sfaiocs  in  li^l 
And  jwt  amidst  thu  jojr  sod  upixMr, 
Let  OB  think  of  them  ihtt  iletf 
Full  Runy  a  fathom  deep. 
By  thy  wild  and  uonny  Metp, 
EJaoonl 


THOMAS  MOORE 

xSi.  Tie  Toaȣ  May  Mooa 

'T'HE  jreupg  May  moon  is  benming,  km, 
^      The  glow-worm's  Lmp  is  gleuung,  love; 

How  sweet  to  rove 

Through  Motm's  £r0Te, 
the  drowsy  worid  is  dnnuning,  IotcI 
Then  awake! — the  heavens  look  brif;bl,  my  dear, 
Tk  never  loo  bte  for  ddtjht,  my  deart 

And  the  bnt  of  all  way* 

To  lengthen  our  days 
b  to  steal  a  few  hours  from  the  night,  my  dnr! 

Now  all  the  woiid  b  sleeping,  lore, 

Bm  ihc  Sage,  his  Mar-watcb  ketpiqg,  love, 


THOMAS  MOORE 

And  I,  whftse  sur 

More  glorious  far 
b  the  eye  from  tliat  cawment  peepiig,   lore. 
TScn  awake  t — till  nw  of  mn,  my  6ear, 
The  Sage's  glus  «'c'll  Khun,  my  deu, 

Or  in  watching  the  Bight 

Of  bodirt  of  Ujlit 
He  might  bappea  lo  take  ibte  for  one,  my  dear  I 


^Sj.     The  Irish  "Peasant  to  His  Mistrttt 

'T'HROUOH  grief  aod  through  daogo-  thy  smile  lath 
^       cbccr'd  my  way, 
Till  hope  tcem'd  lo  bud  from  each  thorn  Aat  round  me  by; 
The  darker  our  fortone,  ibe  brighter  our  pure  larc  bm'di 
Till  shame  into  {;loty,  till  fear  into  zeal  was  tunt'dr 
Yes,  slave  as  I  was,  in  ihy  arms  my  f^pirit  felt  free. 
And  ble^d  c?i-a  the  sorrows  that  made  roe  more  dew 


Thy  rival  was  honour*:!,  while  thou  wert  wiong'd  and  scws'i 
Thy  crown  was  of  briers,  while  goJd  her  brows  adoreMi 
She  woo'il  me  lo  w-niples,  whilst  thou  lay'si  lud  b  eaw»i 
Her  friends  w-ere  all  nostcrs,  wlule  thine,  alas !   were  ti**Bi 
Yet  cold  in  the  earili,  at  thy  feet,  I  wodd  ratber  be 
Than  wed  what  I  loved  not,  or  tum  one  thoaght  from  iten 

They  slander  tliee  sorely,  who  «ay  thy  *ow»  are  6ifl— 
Hadst  thou  been  a  fiilse  one,  thy  cheek  had  loolc'd  las  pilt' 
They  sty,  loo,  so  lon^  tliou  hast  worn  those  tinkering  diiita. 
Thai  deep  in  thy  hcirt  they  have  printed  tbeir  servile 
0,  foul  \i  the  vlandcrl-^no  chain  could  that  loul 
Where  shineth  ihy  spirit,  there  Liberty  iJiineth  tool 
4ft 


THOMAS  MOORE 


^^84.      The  Light  of  Other  Days 

/^PT,  in  (lie  Killjr  nighc, 
^^     lire  sluflibri's  chiin  hu  bouad  m^ 
Fond  Mi-mofy  briqgs  the  liglit 
0/  otLcr  days  wouod  mcs 
Tbc  fintlas,  the  uara 
Of  boyhood's  j«m, 
Tbe  wonU  of  Iotc  then  sfiokn; 
The  eyes  that  ihonc, 
N»w  dinun'd  and  gone, 
Tbc  chcciful  buns  now  brokra  f 
Thus,  to  the  uiily  oi^t, 

Ek  akunber^  dUua  b»  bound  mt^ 
Sad  Memory  brinp  ifac  ligbt 
Of  other  days  anxuH)  nM. 

When  I  mwniibn  all 

Tbc  friends,  to  Knk'd  togctha, 
I've  eecn  iround  rk  fill 

Like  leaves  b  wiiMiy  vcatlier, 
I  feci  like  one 
Who  treads  alone 
Some  banquet- hoU  deierted, 
Wlio*e  ligtiLi  are  lied, 
Whote  garUodii  dead, 
And  all  bi»  be  dqiartcdl 
Tbua,  in  the  ttitly  night, 

Ere  clumber's  duin  has  bouad  mt^ 
Sad  MciBory  brings  tlie  light 
Of  oUiM  day*  aiound  inc. 


THOMAS  MOORB 

S8s.    ^t  the  Mi  J  Hmr  of  Night 

AT  ibc  mid  hour  of  nighl,  wrhrn  ctars  wc  wnping.  I 
*^     To  the  lone  nle  wc  lored,  wbca  liiV  sliooc  warn)  in 
ihLnc  47c; 
And  1  think  oft,  if  spirits  caa  steal  (ram  the  r^oos  ofiir 
To  rcvm;  pssi  sontes  of  detight,  tbou  wUt  come  to  me  then. 
And  tell  tnt  out  Ion  b  reraerober'd  ertn  in  tbe  sky. 

Then  I  sing  tfac  wild  fong  it  oacc  wa>  nqin&r  co  bnr, 
When  our  \-oioes  commingliiig  bmibrd  tike  one  on  tbc  iv; 

AdcI  3s  t^dio  fur  olf  through  the  rak  mj  ud  orisoa  refit. 

I  think.  O  itij  loivl    'tis  iliy  roice  from  the  Kintdom 
of  Souls 
Faintly  mswering  still  the  notes  that  oacc  were  lo  iktr. 


FDWARD  THURLOW.  LORD  THURLOW 


/*tf. 


May 

MAV !    (juccn  of  hlossonu, 
And  ful&Uiag  govm. 
With  what  pretty  music 

ShuII  we  cbam)  the  houn? 
Wile  thou  have  pipe  and  recdi 
Blown  io  the  open  mmd? 
Or  to  the  lui«  give  herd 
In  the  green  bovrnf 

Ttou  hast  Qo  need  of  us, 

Or  pipe  or  wire; 
Thou  baxt  the  gofden  bcC 

RipcD'd  with  (ii«; 


Ffi,-a>, 


« 


LORD  THURLOW 

Aad  nuy  tbouuid  mon 
SoDgtMn,  ihK  tlic*  aiortt 
FilGng  rmli'i  gne»f  floor 
With  new  dcaiiv. 

Thou  but  lh;r  "Bghtir  1mt<J% 

Tmm;  nd  ftwiiwrtj 
Doubt  not,  ihy  mauc  too 

In  the  dcrp  rivers; 
And  tbe  wliole  fivmj  flight 
Wjubltng  ihe  day  aod  nigbi — 
Up  at  the  gatn  of  Iij;ht, 

See,  tbe  lark  i)iuTenl 

EBENEZER  ELLIOT 

ffaft/e  Song 

DAY,  like  our  souls,  is  liercvly  darfct 
ttTiat  then?    'Tis  day! 
We  sleep  no  niorei   the  cock  crowi — hatkl 

To  una  I    away ! 
They  come  I    they  con>e  I    the  knell  b  trag 

Of  Dn  or  them ; 
Wide  o'er  ihcir  march  the  pomp  it  floqg 

Of  gold  and  gem. 
What  colUr*!!  bound  oS  lawtcss  sw.iy, 

To  famiDc  dear — 
What  pcnstoo'd  slare  of  Attila, 

Leads  in  the  rear? 
Come  they  from  Scythian  wilds  afar, 

Our  blood  to  spUf 
Wear  lliey  ihe  limy  of  tbe  Cur ! 

Tbry  do  hb  will. 

4» 


Nor  uGwU'd  saic,  nor  epmilrt, 

Nor  phune,  not  tone- 
No  S])l«Klour  gilds,  all  sternly  met. 

Our  fbot  Mid  bone. 
But,  dvl;  and  fitill,  wc  Inljr  glow, 

Coodrnwd  in  ire  I 
StiilK,  tavrdry  slam,  and  y«  shall  knov 

Our  jilootD  a  fm. 
In  vsin  your  pomp,  ye  viH  powers, 

In«ilu  the  land;  ^^ 

Wrongs,  rengcjoicc,  and  tbe  CanK  arc  eSST 

And  Cod's  ttsKt  hud  I 
Mndniesl    they  trample  into  SMkes 

The  »-onny  clod! 
Lilie  lire,  beneath  thv'u  feet  awakes 

The  aword  of  Cod ! 
Behind,  before,  aborc,  below, 

They  row*  the  brarej 
Where'er  ihcy  gf>,  ihcy  make  a  fo*. 

Or  tiad  a  grare. 


y89. 


Tkint 


r\ARK,  deep,  and  cold  tbe  current  flows 
*^     Unto  the  sea  where  no  wind  blows, 
Seekiiig  tbe  land  which  no  one  knows. 

O'er  in  sad  glooai  still  comet  and  goes 
The  mingled  wail  of  friends  tod  foes. 
Borne  to  tJic  laod  vlucb  no  one  knows. 

Why  shrieki  for  help  yon  wretch,  who  gues 
With  millions,  frotn  a  world  of  woes, 
Umo  the  land  which  no  one  knows} 

Ms 


EBENEZER  ELLIOT 

Though  iByrwb  go  with  him  who  pxt. 
Alone  be  gun  wltere  no  wtnil  blow«, 
UdU>  ibe  land  which  oo  one  koo««. 

For  dU  mutt  go  where  no  wind  blows. 
And  none  can  go  for  him  who  goea  t 
None,  Dooc  rtitim  whence  no  one  keowi. 

Yet  why  should  he  who  shrieking  joen 
With  milUoos,  from  s  world  of  woes, 
Reunion  seek  with  it  or  tho*e? 

Alone  with  God,  WlKn  no  wind  blou-s 
Aad  DMh,  his  shadow — dooTu'd,  lie  f^oesi 
lliat  God  b  there  the  skidow  shows. 

O  tborden  Deefi,  where  no  Mind  blows  I 
And  thou,  O  Lind  which  no  one  knows  I 
That  God  is  AU.  Hie  shadow  shows. 


ALLAN  CUNNINGHAM 
fSff.  Th<  Sun  rises  bright  in  France 

i<f«4-rfM 
'T'HE  sun  ri»e»  bright  in  Knoicc, 
'       And  lair  sets  be; 
But  be  has  tim  the  biythe  bGnk  he  hod 
In  njr  laa  countroc. 
O,  it's  nae  mjr  nn  nmi 
Thu  saddens  *ye  mjr  e'c, 
But  the  4iear  Muie  I  left  behin* 
Wi'  xwcet  baimies  three. 

SI  9tt 


ALLAN  CUNNINGHAM 

My  laiwly  hearth  burn'd  booiue, 
Aod  Kitilcd  mjr  ain  Mancf 

I've  left  a'  my  hcan  behtn' 
la  my  ain  couoirec. 

The  bod  cooics  back  u>  siunmer, 
And  the  Uouom  (o  the  beet 

Bat  I'll  win  bKk,  O  otna, 
To  my  ain  counucc 

0|  I  Bin  1u)  to  htgl)  Hc-aven, 
Where  »oon  1  hope  U>  be, 

An'  there  I'll  meet  ye  k'  soon 
Fiae  my  aio  countrae  1 


/po,  f/ame,  Home,  Hamc 

l_I  AME,  hamc,  hame,  0  hamc  fain  wad  I  be — 
0  harae,  hamc,  lumc,  to  my  aio  cowcitrtvt 

When  the  flower  is  T  Hie  bud  aod  the  lenf  ib  oa  the  tn^ 
'i'he  larkx  shall  ting  me  hanie  ID  my  ud  countrcci 
I'iime,  hanie,  hame,  0  hamc  faia  vad  1  b^— 
0  hamc,  hamc,  ham^  lo  my  ud  countrccl 

The  green  leaf  o'  loyaltie  '•  beginnhig  for  to  ht-. 
The  bonnic  White  Rose  it  i«  withenng  an'  a*; 
But  I'll  n-awr  't  wi'  the  blude  of  usurping  tyinnnic^ 
An'  grceo  ii  will  graw  in  my  ain  couiuree. 

O,  there 's  nocht  now  frae  nun  my  country  can  »TCi 
But  the  key*  o'  kind  hearcn,  to  open  the  grave; 
Thai  a*  the  nuble  ni^ityn  wha  died  far  loyaltie 
^!.ly  rise  again  ao'  fight  for  their  aid  couDtrw. 


ALLAN  CUNNINGHAM 

he  fftM  DOW  arc  gtx,  >'  vHi  raitund  to  tan, 
The  new  gwt  11  spnngi»s  on  the  uji  o'  thcii  gnTcj 
iut  the  wn  througli  the  aatk  blinks  Uytitt  in  my  e'«, 
'I'll  ahiae  on  ye  yet  ia  your  sin  couBtitc.' 

Mame,  fatntr,  lutne,  0  hamc  raja  wmI  1  be — 
h4iiie,  buue,  haiac,  to  my  ain  couotrccl 

T9I.        The  Spring  of  the  Tear 

/'^ONli  were  but  the  winter  cold, 
^^     And  gone  were  but  the  hkw, 
I  could  sleep  ID  tlie  wild  woods 
Wlieie  |iTiinnwM  blow. 

Cold's  tlie  saow  at  my  head. 

And  cold  at  my  feet ; 
Asd  the  finger  of  death  's  at  my  e'en, 

CloaDS  them  to  sleep. 

Let  none  tell  my  faibcr 

Or  my  mother  to  dear,— 
III  meet  thnn  both  in  hearaa 

Ai  the  spring  of  the  year. 

LEIGH  HUNT 

)92.  Jemj'  kiss'd  Me  ^,,^ 

t  ENNY  luM'd  me  vhcB  wc  met, 
^      Jian|iiBg  from  the  chaii  she  sat  in; 
Time,  yOB  thief,  who  lore  to  g« 

Sweets  into  your  Ibt,  put  that  in  I 
Say  I'm  weary,  say  I'm  sad, 

Say  tlut  health  acd  wealth  have  miss'd  nir, 
Say  I'm  growinj  oM,  but  «dd, 
Jenny  Liss'd  me. 


THOMAS  LOVE  PEACOCK 

rP3.  Low  And  Age  .,,^ 

1   FLAVn>  with  jrou  'mid  cowslips  blovrint, 
^     Wb«n  I  was  six  ami  joa  wen  four; 
When  gaihixU  weanng,  flower-tnlls  throwing, 

Were  pleasuKs  soon  to  p{ea*e  oo  mart. 
Through  grorcs  nd  meads,  o'er  gnsa  and 

WiA  liiite  pbymucs,  to  and  fro, 
Wc  wifldrr'd  haod  in  hand  logrchtr; 

But  that  was  sixtjr  years  ago. 

Yoa  grew  a  lovely  rofMtc  maideD, 

And  still  our  caily  love  waa  strong  t 
Still  uith  no  em  our  days  wm  bdn, 

Tbry  gltded  joyously  along; 
And  I  did  low  yoy  very  dearly. 

How  dearly  wordii  wuct  power  to  Aoiw; 
I  thought  your  heart  wm  touch'd  ts  ncarf]*; 

But  that  waa  lilty  yean  ago. 

Then  oihcr  lovers  came  aroond  you, 

Your  be.tuiy  gfrw  6om  yor  to  year, 
And  many  a  splendid  circk  fouDd  yoa 

The  eemre  of  its  gliittnng  xptiere. 
I  saw  you  then,  fir«t  rom  fonaking, 

On  rank  and  weahh  your  hand  bestow; 
O,  then  I  diought  ray  heart  was  brtaluog  I— 

But  that  waa  forty  years  ago. 

And  I  kired  on,  to  wed  anothrr: 
No  cause  she  gave  mc  to  repiori 


THOMAS  LOVE  PEACOCK 

And  when  I  hrard  )-ou  were  a  mother, 
I  did  not  wish  the  chlidren  mine. 

My  «wa  jroung  flock,  in  far  jpmgnmon. 
Made  up  b  plessant  ChrisODM  row: 

Mj  joy  in  them  was  [est  rxprcuioo  ; 
But  thu  was  thiny  years  ago. 

Vou  grew  >  matron  pliunp  md  comriy, 

You  dwelt  in  fawn's  brighmc  bbzei 
My  eanMy  lot  wai  far  more  hotnetyi 

But  I  loo  h*d  my  feMo)  days. 
No  merrier  eyes  hare  etcr  gliMco'd 

Around  the  hnrth-ttunc's  wiiury  glow, 
Than  when  my  youngnt  child  wu  chrittca'd) 

But  that  was  twenty  yean  ago. 

Timt  pass'd.     My  eldest  girl  waa  nunicd, 

Aad  1  xm  DOW  a  gnrtdHTC  gray; 
Cm  pet  of  Tour  years  old  I're  carried 

Amoog  the  wild-flower'd  meads  to  play. 
In  our  old  Gelds  of  childi&h  pleasure, 

Where  now,  as  tlien,  tlie  cou-tJips  bW-, 
She  fills  her  basket's  ample  measure ; 

And  that  is  not  ten  years  ago. 

thoD^  int  love's  impatfion'd  Uindnca 

Has  pAss'd  away  in  colder  light, 
I  still  hare  thought  of  you  with  kiadncu^ 

Aod  shall  do,  till  our  last  good-oiglki. 
^le  eTer.roUing  stieot  bour« 

Will  faring  a  lime  we  shall  not  know, 
When  our  young  days  of  gatbeting  flowers 

Wm  be  aa  bundfcd  years  ago. 

«5 


I 


THOMAS  LOVE  PEACOCK 

fP4.  The  Grave  cf  Love 

DUG,  btDiiili  the  ejprtss  shade, 
\VIiat  «ell  mij-ht  swm  an  elfin's  gratt  i 
Add  eicry  pledge  in  cartit  I  laid, 
Tbat  ent  thy  lahc  aflrcden  gaw. 

I  pRSs'd  them  dowa  the  sod  bcnraih  t 
I  placfd  one  moisy  stooc  abotri 

And  twierd  the  rote's  fading  wreath 
Aiouod  the  sepulchre  of  Ian, 

Pniil  u  thy  Im-e,  the  Bowrra  vcre  ilead 
Err  yet  the  rrmkig  sun  wis  set: 

But  ycara  shall  9«  the  cyjons  Spread, 
Immutable  as  my  rtsm. 


f9f.         Three  Men  of  Gotham 

CEAMEN  three!   Wlut  mco  bo  ye? 

'•^    Goiham't  three  wise  men  wc  be. 

Whiiher  in  yowr  bowl  so  free? 

To  rake  the  moon  from  out  the  sc*. 

The  bowl  goes  trim.     The  mooa  doth  diw 

And  OUT  ballast  is  old  viae. — 

And  your  ballast  is  oU  wine. 

Who  art  thou,  so  fart  adrift? 
I  am  he  they  call  Old  Care. 
Here  nn  board  we  will  thee  lifk. 
No :    I  may  not  oncer  there. 
Wherefore  %oi    Tis  .'ow's  decree, 
In  a  bowl  Cur  may  not  bc.-~ 
In  1  bowl  Care  may  not  be. 


THOMAS  LOVE  PEACOCK 

Pnr  ye  BDt  tli«  wives  that  roll? 

No :    !ri  ctiannjd  bowt  wc  swim, 

Wh«  tiw  chann  thai  Aoni  the  bowl  t 

VTwier  nuy  not  pass  the  brim. 

The  bowl  goes  trim.     The  laooa  doth  shine. 

Aad  our  ballast  b  old  wise, — 

And  your  billast  is  old  wiar. 


CAROLINE  SOUTHEY 
r9^.  To  Death  ■^^i•M 

^OME  not  in  terron  dad,  Co  claim 

^'^     An  unmitting  preys 

Come  like  an  eoeiiiag  shMlov,  Dcuh  1 

So  stealthily,  M  ulcntly  I 
And  fth«  mine  eyes,  and  stnJ  my  bmih; 

'niea  willingly,  O  willingly, 
With  iJiec  m  go  away  I 

Wlut  need  to  clutch  with  iron  fra^p 
What  gmdesC  touch  may  take' 
WbM  need  with  aspect  da/k  to  scare, 

So  iwftttly,  Vi  terribly, 
The  wvary  «ul  'wouM  hardly  cuc^ 
Call'd  quietly,  cili'd  tenderly, 

From  thy  dread  power  to  break  f 

Tb  Dot  OS  when  thou  nurkesc  out 
The  youDg,  die  blest,  the  gay. 
The  lorrd,  the  loriog — thry  who  dream 

So  )i3ff  ily,  so  bo]iefulIy  \ 
Tiii-n  lujsti  thy  kinint  call  may  seero, 
And  sbrinktr^ly,  rcluctandy, 
The  funuiMnM  nuy  obey. 


CAROLINE  SOUTHEY 

But  I  liate  dnink  eaoogh  of  life — 

The  cap  Msigfi'4  to  me 
Dash'd  with  a  littk  twiM  at  bcK, 

So  xcuililjr,  so  Bcxniily — 
To  know  foil  well  that  all  lAe  rest 
More  bitterly,  more  bitterly, 
Dnisg'd  to  the  lost  will  be. 

And  I  tasty  lire  to  fain  «osic  heart 

Thit  kindly  care»  Kk  niei 
To  pain,  but  not  to  Mess.    O  Death! 

Conie  quietly — coroe  lovingly — 
And  iliut  mine  eye*,  ind  sua]  my  bfeath) 
Then  willingly,  0  willingly, 
ril  £0  away  with  tbcel 


<;»>&« 


GEORGE  GORDON  BYRON.  LORB  BYROS 

yp7.  fV^en  we  Twa  parted 

WTHEN  we  two  forwd 

**       In  silence  «ad  teara, 
Hulf  broken-hearted 

To  Kvcr  for  yeus. 
Pale  grew  thy  clieck  and  cold. 

Collier  thy  kiss; 
Truly  thst  hour  fofctold 

Sorrow  to  (his. 

The  dew  of  the  monung 
Sunk  cUill  on  my  brow — 

It  ielt  like  the  wamiog 
Of  what  I  fed  now. 


LORD  BYRON 

Thy  *0W5  arc  ali  broken, 
Aod  liglu  h  xhy  fame: 

I  heu  fhy  name  xpoktn, 
And  than  in  iu  ihuM. 

They  Btme  tliec  before  me, 

A  kaell  lo  nune  ear; 
A  shucUer  come*  o'er  m^^ 

Why  wen  thou  u  dear? 
They  know  not  I  knew  dm. 

Who  knew  ihec  too  wdl: 
Long,  loag  sliaU  1  nx  tbee, 

Too  <lR[Jy  to  iclL 

In  Mcict  wc  met— 

In  aiknce  I  $ncn, 
ThK  thy  han  could  fbrgtt. 

Thy  ifsiR  dccoire. 
If  I  should  n>t«t  thtc 

After  long  years, 
How  filiould  I  grret  thee? 

Wnh  aiiencc  and  tean. 


fff8.  For  Music 

"yHERE  be  dok  of  Dr)uty*s  daughters 
*      With  a  magic  like  thn; 
And  like  rauEK  oa  th«  wai«rs 

U  thy  sweet  votcc  la  mc: 
When,  u  if  ita  Mund  were  CMtung 
The  durmid  ocean'*  piuungi 
The  wares  &e  «St\  and  f^eanung. 
And  the  InlI'd  wind*  wxn)  dnwningt 


LORD  DYRON 

And  the  midnight  mooo  is  wtaWng 
Her  bright  chaia  o'er  the  dct-p; 

WhoM  brcMt  it  gmtly  heating. 
At  in  infant'i  aslcqi: 

So  the  s{iitit  bowi  before  thee, 

To  listcD  and  adoiv  tbnt 

Willi  a  full  but  soft  emodoo, 

Like  Ox  sweO  of  SmrniKi's  ocean. 

ffp.       U^e'll  go  no  mere  a'rovfng 

CO,  well  p>  no  more  i-roving 
*-'     So  Lite  into  the  night. 
Though  the  heart  be  ttil)  xt  toting, 
And  the  moon  be  still  as  bri&lit. 

For  the  (Word  outwears  ns  sheath, 
And  the  mu)  wean  oat  the  famnt, 

And  (he  hem  must  pause  to  btuitbe. 
And  lore  itself  hare  resL 

Thou^  the  night  was  made  for  toting 
And  th(^  day  returns  too  soon, 

Yet  we'll  go  no  more  a-roring 
By  the  light  of  the  moon. 

ifae,  She  walks  in  Beauty 

CHE!  wxiks  in  beauty,  like  the  night 
■^     Of  cIoudlcM  dimes  and  starry  *liie«j 
And  all  that 't  brit  of  dark  and  bright 

Meet  in  her  aspect  and  her  efts : 
Thus  mellow'd  to  that  tender  tiffht 

Which  Itntcn  to  g»dy  day  denies 


LORD  BYRON 

One  ih*^  the  morei  one  ray  the  In«, 
Had  half  tinpair'd  tlie  ntfoelcM  grace 

Which  wares  in  ereiy  raren  UVM, 
Or  xofdj  lighieot  o'er  her  &cet 

Where  ihouights  Kreaely  :ivrct  cxiirem 
How  purr,  how  dear  their  dweUing-[ilwfc 

Asd  on  th«t  cScek,  and  o'er  that  braw, 
So  loft,  so  calm,  j«t  eloquent, 

TIk  niiile*  that  wm,  th«  tints  tbil  {low. 
But  Hell  of  day*  in  goodnen  ipcnt) 

A  mind  at  peace  with  all  below, 
A  heart  whose  loTe  is  innocent  t 


foi.  The  TsUs  of  Greece 

THE  blea  of  Creecel    the  isles  of  Creecel 
*■      Wher«  bunting  Sappho  l«ed  and  sung, 
Wbeie  j{rew  the  arts  of  war  and  peace. 

Where  Dclos  rose,  and  Phixbin  sprvngl 
Eternal  nunter  gilds  them  yel, 
But  alt,  except  thrir  nin,  is  act. 

Tbc  Sdan  asd  the  Tdan  nittsr, 
The  hero's  barp,  the  lo*«r's  lute, 

Hire  found  the  fame  your  ihorvs  refute  i 
Their  place  of  birth  aIot»e  is  mote 

To  Kninds  which  echo  further  west 

Thao  your  sires'  '  Idands  of  the  B!e->u' 

The  raountains  looV  on  Marathon — 
And  ManuhoB  looks  on  the  sea  i 

And  muaiag  there  an  hoar 'alone, 

I  ditani'd  that  Greece  nxighi  still  be  fteei 

Tor  standing  on  the  Peniacs'  grave, 

1  coidd  not  deem  myself  a  shve. 


LORD  BYRON 

A  king  sate  oa  ili«  rockr  brow 
WKich  looks  o'er  5«a-boni  S^Umiit 

And  ihipR,  by  tbcMtunds,  by  below, 
And  men  in  nat)on«i— ^1  vrcn  lusl 

He  counied  llieni  at  breik  of  <Uy — 

And  when  the  sun  Mt,  when  were  tbey? 

And  where  »ic  they?  and  where  art  ilim, 
My  coimifyf    On  thy  i-gictlcia  shore 

The  hcrwc  lay  is  tuoeleu  now — 
The  hermc  bowni  beats  no  morel 

And  must  thy  lyre,  m  loog  dinoe, 

Degenente  into  hands  like  mine? 

'Tib  something  in  the  dewth  of  (ttat. 
Though  link'd  amonj;  a  (etter'd  race, 

To  ftel  at  least  a  futnot's  sbame, 
Eteo  as  J  sing,  sulfuse  rey  ha; 

For  what  is  left  the  poet  here? 

For  Greeks  a  blusb— for  Greece  a  lev. 

Mad  wt  but  weep  o'er  days  more  blest  f  J 
Musi  nif  but  blush?— Oiir  faibers 

Eanli  I  render  Wk  from  out  thy  breast 
A  remnant  of  our  Spartan  dead  ! 

Of  the  three  hundred  gnnt  bgt  three, 

To  malw  a  new  Thcrroopytxl 

What,  silent  still  ?  and  silent  all  ? 

Ahl   no; — the  roices  of  the  dead 
Sound  like  a  distant  torrent's  fall, 

And  answer,  *  Let  one  liTing  tmd, 
But  one,  arise, — vt  come,  we  oomel' 
Tis  but  the  Unng  who  arc  dumb. 


LORD  BYRON 

b  WJB—  in  tm>  Mrike  oth«f  cbord«i 
Fill  bi^  tbe  cup  with  Suniaa  winci 
Lcate  banles  to  iIm  Tuikish  bordca, 

And  »brd  ihe  blood  of  Scio's  viae) 
Haikl   riiii>(i  lo  the  iRiwMe  call- 
How  an.iwns  uch  bold  l^cchaml  I 

You  lu«tt  the  Pyrrhk  dtnce  as  ym 
Wbtie  is  the  Pyrrhic  ptuhax  gooef 

Of  iwo  such  tnsoQS,  why  forgn 
The  nobler  and  tbe  maalter  one  i 

You  have  the  lettcis  Cidmia  giTe — 

Tbiok  jv  be  mcaat  them  for  a  slate  f 

Fill  high  tbe  bowl  wifb  Suntan  wiael 
We  win  not  think  of  themes  like  thete  I 

It  made  Anacrcon's  song  divine  i 
H«  iciTed— tut  aemA  Polycraies— 

A  tyrant  t  but  oar  masten  then 

Were  still,  at  least,  om  countr^mni. 

The  tjrant  of  the  Chenoo»e 

Wa  freedom 't  bcu  and  brarest  (Vicnd ; 
Thai  tyrant  was  Mihudcs! 

O  that  tbe  present  hour  vould  lend 
Another  despot  of  the  kind  I 
Sucti  chaios  as  hia  were  sure  lo  bind. 

Fill  high  the  bowl  wiih  Simian  wine  I 
On  SuU't  rock,  and  Pvgit's  shore, 

Exists  the  rcinaant  of  a  line 

Such  as  the  Doric  motbcrt  borej 

And  there,  perhaps,  scene  seed  h  sown. 

The  HcnclekLu  blood  nu^bt  ovin. 


LORD  BYRON 

Trust  not  fot  fivedom  to  the  Frank^'- 
Tbey  bare  a  king  who  boys  and  wllsi 

In  utive  swords  aad  utive  ranks 
Tht  only  iMfv  of  coomgc  dwells : 

But  Turkish  force  snd  L*tio  fraud 

Would  bretk  your  shield,  however  brood. 

FiU  high  the  howl  with  Submii  wiarl 
Out  virgins  d»n<x  bcneadi  the  dude — 

I  see  ihdr  glorious  bluck  cytt  shine) 
But  gaziDg  on  each  gtowiog  rhmI, 

My  own  the  burning  tcai^dfop  larc». 

To  tliink  such  httasts  must  suckle  tUvcf. 

Place  me  on  Sutiium's  niarhlcd  uecp, 
Wlicrc  nothing,  save  tlic  wares  and  I, 

Mty  hear  our  ntuuuJ  munmirs  9wm]>  i 
'I^cre,  swan-like,  let  me  sing  and  die: 

A  land  of  slaves  shall  ne'er  be  mine — 

Dash  down  jvn  cii|>  of  Saoiian  vioel 


602. 


SIR  AUBREY  DE  VERB 
T&f  CbiUrett  Band 


ALL  holy  influences  dwell  within 
'■    The  tirast  of  Childhood :    instincts  fresh  ban  Gcj 
Intptrv  h,  ere  the  heart  beneath  the  rod 
Of  grief  hAth  hied,  or  caught  the  plague  of  sin. 
How  mighiy  was  thai  fctruur  which  could  win 
lis  way  to  inCini  souls  ! — and   was  the  sod 
Of  Palesiine  by  infant  Crobes  trod .' 
Like  Jou-^h  went  they  forth,  or  Benjamin, 


SIR  AUBREY  DE  VERE 

all  tlxir  tooclung  bruiy  to  tcdtem! 

And  did  ibcir  soft  lift  kiss  the  Scpuklire? 
Alas !    the  lovely  pjgtont  as  a  dmon 

Faiiedt    Tbey  m>k  uoi  Oirough  ignoble  fcart 
They  fell  ooc  Moskni  steel.     By  mouauin,  Mrteif 

Id  Hnd*,  io  lea*,  they  died — do  mother  oev  t 


CHARLES  WOLFE 

TJ^  Burial  ef  Sir  John  Moore  after 
Coruana 

^OT  a  dnim  vu  heatd,  not  a  Mineral  note, 
^         As  his  corse  tu  the  nim^an  we  burriod; 
Not  a  sotdier  ditclur^  his  faiewell  shdt 
Oct  the  graic  vbcre  our  hero  we  buried. 

We  buiicd  him  daikly  at  diead  of  night, 
The  sod»  aitl)  ou<-  bayonets  tuiniog. 

By  the  struggling  mooabcam't  mbty  light 
And  the  bnthom  dimly  butaio^ 

No  oselss  coffin  encloKd  his  bmst, 

Not  m  sheet  or  in  shiDud  we  wound  him  j 

But  be  Uy  like  a  wanior  taking  hb  mt 
Wtih  liis  Donia]  cloak  aronod  Inm. 


,  Few  and  abort  were  the  prayers  we  said. 
And  vc  spoke  not  a  word  of  sorrow  i 
But  we  suadfastfy  gaicd  on  tbe  (aoe  that  was  dead, 
Aod  «c  bitterly  thoogbi  of  ibc  nkotrow. 


CHARLES  WOLFE 

We  thought,  as  we  hollow'd  his  narrow  btd 
And  smooth'd  down  his  lonely  pillow, 

That  the  foe  and  the  stranger  would  tread  o'er 
And  we  far  away  on  the  billow! 

Lightly  tiey'U  talk  of  the  spirit  that's  gone-. 
And  o'er  his  cold  ashes  upbraid  him — 

But  little  he'll  reck,  if  they  let  him  sleep  on 
In  the  grave  where  a  Brilon  has  laid   hifu. 

But  half  of  our  heavy  task  was  done 

When  the  clock  struck  the  hour  for  rwiriog  i 

And  we  bcaid  the  distaat  and  random  gtm 
That  the  foe  was  sullenly  firine- 

Slowly  and  sadly  we  laid  him  down, 

From  the  field  of  his  fame  fresh  and  goty ; 

We  carved  not  a  Ibc,   and  wc  raised  not  a  sion 
But  we  left  hira  alone  with  his  glory. 


604. 


To  Mary 


CHARLES  WOLFE 

But  when  I  spcak^lhra  <k)3t  not  »jr 
What  tliou  ne'er  left's  unaic!; 

Aad  now  I  feci,  u  vrclJ  I  nujr, 
S«cM  Muj,  thou  vt  dewll 

If  iboa  vouldtt  stay,  c'co  u  thou  vT, 

All  cold  and  all  terene — 
1  (till  migbt  press  ihf  itlriK  heart, 

And  where  th]r  Nniks  have  been. 
While  e'en  tbj  dull,  bleak  cone  I  hive, 

Thou  seemeM  Mill  mine  own ; 
B«i  thciT— I  Uy  thcc  in  thy  t^vt^ 

Aod  I  «ra  now  akxw! 

I  do  not  tliink,  where'er  ihou  ait, 

Thou  halt  fbfgotirD  mej 
And  I,  pabipt,  may  lootbc  this  heart 

In  thinking  too  of  thee : 
Yet  there  was  round  tliee  such  a  dawn 

Of  li^i  Bc'ct  icca  bdbrf. 
As  fancy  never  could  have  drawn, 

And  neier  can  rcMore ! 


PERCY  BYSSHE  SHELLEY 


ffrma  of  Tan 

^  -*  iTVftan 

pROM  Ihe  foreus  and  higUands 
*       We  come,  we  came; 
Froia  the  river>{;irl  islands, 
Where  loud  wavi-ti  arc  dumb, 
LUteoiag  to  my  sweet  ptpings. 


PERCY  BYSSHE  SHELLEY 

llie  wiiul  in  the  mds  and  the  nishirs, 

The  bcrt  on  the  bells  of  tliymc, 
The  Urd«  on  the  myrtle  bushn, 
TTic  ckalc  BboTC  in  the  laa% 
And  the  liurds  below  in  the  grass, 
Were  u  silent  as  ever  old  Tntoha  wu, 
Listemng  to  my  sweet  pipcngK. 

Liquid  Fcacus  wis  flowiag, 
And  all  durk  Tvmpe  lay 
In  Pelion'^  sh^ow,  outgroinng 
The  light  of  the  dying  day, 
Speeded  by  my  swe«t  |n[itn|p. 

The  Sileni  and  Sylnns  aod  Pauns, 

And  tlic  Nymph*  of  the  woods  and 
To  t]ie  edge  of  the  moiKt  riTer-UwtiJL, 
And  the  brink  of  the  dewy  nvcs, 
And  all  that  did  then  anmd  and  follow. 
Were  silent  with  love,  as  you  now,  Afollo, 
With  enfy  of  my  sweet  pipings. 

I  uo£  of  the  dancing  stars, 
I  sanj!  of  the  dxdal  earth. 
And  of  heaven,  and  the  giant  wars. 

And  fore,  and  death,  and  birth. 
And  then  I  changed  my  pipings — 

Singing  how  down  the  rale  of  Mandiis 

I  purfoed  a  maiden,  and  cli;]i'd  a  mJ: 
Cods  and  men,  we  are  all  deluded  tints: 
It  breaks  in  our  bo^om,  and  then  we  lile«L 
All  wqit — as  I  think  both  j-e  now  w«uM, 
If  envy  or  age  hid  not  trosen  your  blood— 
At  the  sorrow  of  my  sweet  ppings. 
fiea 


PERCY  BVSSHE  SHELLEY 


'iHi,  The  fnvifaliia 

DEST  anJ  bii^iesi,  come  away! 
"      Fairer  far  th»n  this  fair  Djv, 
Which,  like  thee  to  tboM  in  sotraw. 
Comes  ta  bid  a  «weet  good-morrow 
To  the  nMsb  Year  josr  awake 
In  iu  credle  on  the  brake. 
The  brightest  liour  of  uabom  Sarins, 
Thrrnqh  the  wioicr  vnDdeiia;-, 
Fouad,  h  Menu,  the  halcyon  Mom 
To  boar  Pebniary  born. 
Bcniling  (i-om  heaTen,  in  azure  minh, 
1 1  kra'H  (be  forcbr»d  of  (be  Earth; 
And  smikd  vpon  ibe  lilrat  tea; 
And  hide  the  fro7<ti  sireams  be  free; 
And  waked  to  mu'HG  atl  their  fount.iin« ; 
Attd  breaihed  u]ion  the  frozen  mou&iatns ; 
And  like  a  jrrophrtess  of  May 
Sirew'd  flowers  upoo  the  banrva  way, 
Making  the  wimry  world  a^ipear 
Like  one  on  whom  thou  sniileM,  dear. 

Away,  away,  from  tncfi  and  towaa, 

To  tlie  wild  wood  and  the  dowM^ 

To  the  iilent  wiMemeas 

When;  the  soul  Med  not  repre» 

Its  imnK  lest  it  thoukl  not  fiml 

An  echo  in  anoi)icr'»  mittd, 

Wbile  the  toach  of  Nature's  ut 

Hamootzies  hean  to  heart. 

I  leate  this  aotioe  oa  my  door 

For  CKh  Kcnacom'd  visitor]— 

An 


PERCY  BYSSHE  SHELLEV 

'I  am  gone  into  the  Gdds 
To  Ukc  whit  this  sweet  hour  yields. 
ReAi-ction,  you  nuy  come  to-mairow) 
Sit  by  ilic  JlmMle  with  Sotrow. 
You  wit))  the  unpaid  bill,  Despair, — 
Vou  ttrcMOic  Tcrsc-ttciwr,  C«re, — 
I  writi  pay  you  la  the  gntrc,— 
Dcith  will  listen  to  yOLtr  suvc 
Expectatioa  too,  be  oif! 
To-diy  is  for  iwelf  enough. 
Hope,  in  piiy,  mock  not  Woe 
With  sniUrt,  not  follow  wIktc  I  got 
Long  hanng  lived  oo  your  sweet  foo(^ 
At  IcQjlth  I  God  one  mocncat's  good 
After  long  juln:    with  all  youx  love, 
This  you  ncTcr  told  me  oF.' 

Radifttit  Sister  of  the  Day, 
Awake!    nritc!    sod  come  avayl 
'i'o  the  wild  wood«  Bod  the  plaint  j 
And  ilic  pools  where  winter  rains 
Imtige  all  dieir  roof  of  leaver ; 
Where  the  pine  its  garland  weaves 
Of  upless  green  and  ivy  dua 
Round  Etenu  that  never  kiss  th«  sum 
Where  the  lawns  and  pastures  bc^ 
And  the  stcdluUs  of  ttw  m  t 
When  tlie  mdting  tioitr-fimt  wets 
The  dni»y>Maf  that  nerer  sets;, 
And  wind -Ho  wets,  and  liolcts 
Which  yet  join  not  Kent  to  hoe, 
Crawn  the  juk  year  weak  and  neW] 
W'htfi  the  ni^t  is  left  behind 
I" 


PERCY  BYSSHB  SHELLEY 

In  the  dwp  cart,  dun  and  hlindt 
And  the  blur  noon  t«  otet  u*, 
And  the  mnhitiuliMMit 
Billowrs  Biuranr  u  our  feet 
When  ihr  nrth  mi  ocean  meet, 
Afld  bU  Uiiogk  wcm  only  one 
la  the  mi  venal  wn. 


tffl7. 


//f//rf/ 


'T'HE  wotW'i  gnat  age  be^as  anew, 
^      Tlie  golden  jr»n  trturn, 
The  eaftb  doth  like  a  siwke  rrnrw 

Her  wiotcT  weeds  ooiwonii 
Hraren  smitei,  and  fiitlis  and  empires  g\ma 
Like  wTTtks  of  a  disiolriDg  dream. 

A  brigbter  Hellas  ican  its  mountuos 

From  wa»es  serMief  htf 
A  new  Penrv*  roOi  bis  founfciiiis 

Agaum  the  Rioraing  «iv; 
Wbefc  (wirr  I'nnjin  bloofn,  there  skep 
Youat  Cychds  oo  a  snnnier  deep, 

A  loftier  Aff^  clenres  tbe  mtia, 

Fraught  with  >  later  prize; 
Another  Orf>hem  wigf  again, 

And  \om,  mA  vcefa,  ood  <rirflt 
A  MW  Ulrssp«  tram  ooee  ntora 
CdjpM  (w  his  Datire  sboire. 

O  write  no  more  the  lale  of  Troy, 
If  earth  Deaths  scroll  mnn  be  — 

Nor  mix  with  Laiw  ngt  the  )oy 
Whkfa  dnrai  «pOB  tba  £tw, 


PERCY  BYSSHE  SHELLEY 

AJtboogh  a  nbtler  Sphinx  rnicw 
Riddta  of  dtotb  Tbtbci  never  Iukw. 

ADother  Aihen  aluJI  mat. 

And  to  remoter  time 
B«<tu«nh,  lilce  muaet  to  the  ticks, 

The  ^IcDdour  of  its  prime ; 
And  leave,  if  niught  so  bri|hi  nuy  litc^ 
AU  ci^  can  i.ikc  or  Hmvo  c;ia  give. 

Stlun)  and  Love  their  loo^  repose 
Slull  bunt,  more  bnght  and  jood 

Than  all  who  fell,  than  One  who  row, 
Tbftn  naaj  tnnubdocd: 

Not  gold,  not  blood,  their  >lur  dowers, 

Sue  votive  tears  wd  symbol  iiowtn. 

O  cexKl  msK  buc  ud  d^ath  retanif 
Ccucl   imet  rata  lull  and  die? 

Cc»el  drain  not  to  ha  dregs  the  nm 
Of  biucr  pro]>becy ! 

The  world  b  weary  of  tbe  pwl  — 

O  mtftbt  it  die  or  rot  >t  lutl 


rfo*.  To  a  Sk/lark 

LJAIL  to  thee,  blitbe  tjoril! 
^  *      Bird  tbou  nerer  wcrt— 
That  from  heaven  or  near  h 
Poiutst  thy  full  heart 
la  (cofusc  struBS  of  UDfirrnxditated  art 


PERCY  BYSSHE  SHELLEY 

Hifthar  itill  oaJ  )ii|;lier 

From  tbe  canh  tfaou  tfaoffat. 
Like  ■  cloud  oj*  Gret 

The  blue  deep  thoti  wingctt, 
id  liagiiig  MiU  do«  soar,  and  wving  em  singesl. 

tn  tlie  golda  Bgtu'ning 

Of  tbe  tookcn  ni^ 
O'er  whicli  clouds  tn  brigbt'nbg, 

Tboa  dost  floM  and  no, 
H  «B  ial»odkd  J07  whow  nee  b  JB»  btguD. 

Tbe  pair  fvtfk  even 

Mdts  areund  thy  fligbti 
Lilur  ■  lur  of  herno, 
In  tbe  brood  daylight 
■n  WMeco,  but  ]Wt  1  beu  thy  thrill  ddight — 

Keen  M  are  the  mows 

Of  tliat  silver  sjfhat 
Wbote  intoiM!  Ump  narrow* 

Id  the  white  dawn  clear, 
««  h«dly  Mc,  we  Ted  that  it  ts  ihcfe. 

All  the  canh  and  air 

With  thy  Toicc  is  loud, 
As,  when  Di£bi  »  bkrr, 

Fton  one  body  dood 
■nooa  iKOs  oat  bet  beuus,  and  heaven  is  otciflow'd. 

What  thou  att  wc  know  noti 

What  is  nuMi  like  tlieef 
fFrom  rainbow  clouds  then  Bow  not 

Draps  so  Ui^it  to  lec, 
thy  pceseaoe  tbovera  a  rain  of  mdody  1 — 

n 


I 


PERCY  BYSSHE  SHELLEY 

Like  a  poet  hidden 

In  tlw  li|kl  ol  thooght. 
Staging  bymos  unbiddca, 
Till  ih«  world  is  wrought 
To  tftofnihy  Willi  hai>es  and  fain  it  hc«d«l  ooti 

Ltk«  a  hi£h-boni  miidra 

In  •  palace  tower, 
Soothing  bo-  love-bdeit 
Soul  in  tKttt  liour 
With  mate  tWCct  tt  lor«,  which  overflows  bcr 

Like  ■  gtow-wonn  golden 

In  a  dell  of  deW| 
Scattering  uobchotdea 

Its  BMiol  hue 
Among  the  flowers  end  grass  which  screen  il  rron  the  ' 

Like  a  ro»e  cmbowcr'd 

In  its  own  gr«o  Iwte^, 
By  warm  winds  d«flowcr'd, 
TtU  Uie  scent  it  siT«s 
Mak«9  faint  with  too  muck  sweet  these  beavywipgid  thii 

Sound  of  Tcrnal  showers 

On  the  twinkling  gf*s>i 
Rain-awaken'd  Bowcts — 

All  that  vftT  was 
Joyms  arid  clear  and  fresh — thy  nranc  doth  aufm 

Teach  us,  iprttc  or  bird, 

What  .tweci  thoughts  are  thine: 

I  have  never  heard 
PraJK  of  lore  or  wiae 
That  poDted  forth  a  Sood  of  captwc  so  drrincL 

JO* 


PERCY  BYSSHE  SHEtLEY 

Qioru  liymrneal, 

Or  trtBiApbl  chini, 
M«ch*(f  wiUi  ihlflc  would  be  ill 

But  an  empty  nant — 
thing  wherein  we  feel  Hunt  is  Kimc  biddtn  wuil 

What  objecli  are  the  fountain* 

Of  thy  hjppy  strain  i 
What  fields,  or  wsTce,  or  moDotainsf 
WhjK  sktfn  of  sly  or  plain ! 
What  love  of  thiae  own  kind?    what  ignorance  of  pain? 

With  ihy  dear  keen  joyanee 

LangMT  caneot  bei 
Shadow  of  annoyance 

Never  caiDC  near  tbre: 
Thou  lo<re»,  but  ne'er  koew  lote's  ud  satiny. 

Wikiog  or  t^eep, 

Thou  of  death  must  dectn 
Things  mote  true  and  deep 

Than  we  morlitts  dream, 
Or  how  could  thy  notes  llow  in  soch  a  crptal  Xream  ? 

We  \o6k  before  and  after. 

And  piac  for  what  U  not: 
Obt  Rncerest  Uughter 

Wiih  KMBc  pain  is  fniigbti 
Our  sweetest  songs  arc  diosc  that  tell  of  saddest  ihooght. 

Vrt,  if  we  could  tcom 

Hale  and  pride  and  fear, 
If  we  were  things  bora 

Not  to  shed  a  tear, 
klioow  not  how  thy  joy  we  crer  should  come  near. 


PERCY  BVSSHE  SHELLEY 

Bntcr  thin  nil  rocMum 

or  di'lij^htful  sound. 
Better  than  all  tmsum 
That  in  books  uc  foond, 
*Vhj  skill  10  po«t  were,  tlioa  scomer  of  the 

Tocli  me  htif  the  sUdons 
That  thj  brain  mu»  knowt 

Such  harmontous  roadacM 
From  TOf  lip*  would  How, 
Thr  world  should  littcD  then,  at  ]  am  lintninj 


6op, 


The  Moon 

I 


A  ND,  like  ■  dying  Udy  lean  Mtd  \aixy 
■**     Who  loiicra  fonh,  wrajip'd  in  >  gaiuy ' 
Out  of  her  chamber,  led  by  tlie  bsanr 
And  ffeUe  wanclmi^  of  her  fading  brain. 
The  moon  an»e  up  in  the  muikjr  ooi 
A  white  and  dupdea  mass. 


it 

An  ^u  pale  for  wcariiKW 
Of  climbing  hcaren  and  gazing  on  the  emh, 

Waodaing  com)>mionlcs$ 
Among  the  surs  that  bivc  «  ditfctem  biith. 
And  ercT  changinj;,  !ikc  a  joylcu  eye 
Tb»t  finds  00  object  wortli  its  cooMwcy  \ 


PERCY  BYSSHE  SHEI.LIiY 


tSlO. 


Ode  to  the  tt^esi  iV'mti 


OWILD  Wc«  Wind,  iboo  breath  of  Autuffio's  being. 
Thou  front  whoK  un^rcn  |ircsrncc  ibr  leaves  dnd 
Are  driven  like  gjunu  fraia  >n  enchanter  flcrinj, 

Yellow,  taA  bhdc,  ind  jolc,  and  hectic  red, 
]*r»iilrace>micltcii  mthittKlci !    O  thou 
Who  durioteat  to  thcu  dark  wintry  bed 

The  wingid  seed*,  v-liere  (hey  li«  cold  sad  low, 

Eidi  like  a  cotpw  within  its  gmvc,  until 
Thior  Bzurv  riiur  of  the  Spring  kNaIJ  blow 

Her  ciirion  o'rr  the  drtaming  earth,  and  lill 

(Driring  tweet  boda  Eke  flocks  to  feed  in  atr) 

With  litrqg  buts  and  odours  j'lain  and  bill; 

Wild  Sjiirk,  whkb  tri  tnoviog  everj'wliere ; 
DcuroycT  and  pmerwrt   h»r,  O  heart 


Tlioo  on  whose  ttmm,  'mid  the  steep  sly'a  commotion. 

[.oo^e  clouds  like  eartb's  decaying  leaver  arc  shed. 
Shook  from  the  UDgled  boughs  of  heavni  and  occai^ 

Angels  of  tma  aad  liglitnag  1    there  are  sprcMl 
Oa  the  bbe  lur&ce  of  thbe  airy  «ut(^. 

Like  t)ie  bright  hair  uplifted  froro  the  head 

Of  some  fierce  Mxnad,  even  from  the  cfim  terge 

Of  the  ItOfizon  to  the  xtuifa's  hcisbl, 
I'he  locks  of  ilic  approddiing  nomi.     Tbon  dirge 


PERCY  BYSSHE  SHELLEY 

or  the  Hying  year,  to  vhich  Uua  clonog  n^ 
Will  be  the  ilomr  of  a  viat  aqnilchre. 
Vaulted  with  all  ihy  oongregMMl  might 

or  vaponn^,  from  whme  solid  atrmxpherr 
Black  nin,  and  (>n,  sod  hail,  will  bursi :    O 


ni 

TImu  who  didst  wiken  from  his  fuminer  dmnu 

The  blue  Meditcrraneaa,  where  he  Uy. 
LuII'd  by  the  coil  oF  tui  crysUUioc  xttvamt, 

Beside  a  |>umicr  i<le  in  Bus's  bay, 
And  saw  in  slwp  old  palaces  and  towen 
QiitvcriBg  wiiliio  tlie  ware's  intcrucr  day, 

Ail  overgrown  with  nrorc  mo^si,  and  Rowers 

So  «wcct,  the  «cnte  fdints  pictutir.g  ihetn !    Thn 
For  whose  path  the  Atlantic's  level  powers 

Cleai-e  iliemselves  into  chasms,  while  Etr  beltw 
Tlie  sen-blooms  and  tlie  oozy  wood*  which  wm 
The  H[de«  foliage  of  the  oeean,  koow 

Tliy  voice,  uid  suddenly  grow  gray  with  fear, 
And  tremble  md  despot!  ihemselTesi    O  bear  I 


rr 


If  I  ven  ■  dead  leaf  tfaov  mightest  beu  t 

tr  I  were  «  BwUt  dmid  to  fly  wtth  tbeei 
A  waiv  10  poftt  benath  tby  powtr,  and  share 


»ERCY  BYSSHE  SHELLEY 

The  impnbe  of  thy  iUngtb,  only  lc»  fm 
Tbu)  thou,  0  uoDoaUoIlablc !    if  evui 
I  wen  u  io  my  boyhood,  and  couM  be 

The  contndr  of  thy  wBndcriogt  over  hnvcn, 
As  then,  iriien  to  ouiunii  thy  Atty  S|>ccd 
Sufoc  ucm'd  a  Tiuoa — I  wouUl  ne'er  luic  siriien 

Ai  thus  with  thw  ia  pnyvr  tn  my  tote  attiL 
01    lift  fitc  u  A  wutt,  a  leaf,  ■  cloud  I 
I  fiU  ufQa  the  ihona  of  life  I    1  bleed  I 

A  htarf  weight  of  houra  hu  duta'd  uid  buw'd 
Oae  too  lile  thee — lainelcas,  and  swtTt,  and  proud 


Make  tne  thy  lyre,  ercti  as  the  fomc  »: 

What  if  my  kaiTS  ait  filling  Uke  h&  ownf 
The  tumdt  of  thy  misbty  bannoflio 

Wtll  take  ftoon  both  a  dec|i  amumnil  loor, 
Swm  tbough  in  iadoess.     Sc  thou,  Sjiiiii  fivice. 
My  i]>mll    Ik  tliou  me,  impetuous  oocl 

Diivc  my  dead  tbou][btA  oicr  the  ucuTenc, 

Lik«  wkher'd  Itai-ea,  to  ^lucken  a  new  birth  i 
And,  by  the  Jaeantatioii  of  this  rcne, 

ScMur,  as  from  as  uocxtinguish'd  hearth 

Akbes  and  sgiorka,  my  u-oids  among  mankind  J 

Be  thtvujjh  my  lips  to  uiunakco'd  canh 

The  tfvinpct  of  a  prophecy  '■    O  Wind, 
If  Wioter  comes,  cao  iii<ring  be  far  behind  i 

r9 


PERCY  BYSSHU  SHELI.EY 

tfil.  The  Indian  Setaiade 

T  ARISE  from  ditasis  of  thn 
^      In  (Ik  lint  sweet  licep  of  nigUr, 
When  the  wineU  are  breathing  low, 

Aod  the  ttan  arc  skioii^  btighu 
I  arise  froni  drcjnis  of  ihre, 

Aod  a  sjMi!t  b  my  feet 
Hath  kd  nie — wbo  knows  howf 

To  thy  chamber  window,  Sweet  \ 

The  wandering  ain  ihcy  faint 
On  tbe  dark,  the  (ileot  stream — 

And  the  Cliatnpali's  odoun  [pine] 
Like  sweet  tlioughts  ia  ■  diunii 

The  nightingale's  coin|iuuC, 
It  di»  upoD  her  burt, 

As  I  must  on  thine, 

0  belotid  as  thou  ait  I 

0  lift  me  from  tW  gntsi 

1  die  I  I  fidttt !  I  faU  I 
Let  thy  loi-e  in  ki^ise^  rain 

On  my  lips  and  eyelids  [ole. 
My  check  is  cold  and  white,  alas  I 

My  heart  bents  loud  and  fastt 
O  [itess  it  to  tiiinc  own  again, 

Where  it  will  brtak  at  last  I 


6n. 


Night 


SWIFTLY  walk  owr  the  w«teni  waw, 
Spirit  of  Night  I 
Out  of  the  nnsty  eastieTn  care, — 
Wheiv,  all  the  long  and  lone  dayUght, 


PERCY  BYS8HB  SKBLLBY 

Tbou  woTcst  dmtnts  of  joy  md  fru 
Which  make  tlicc  tcrtiblc  and  dr*i, — 
SwiTt  be  tby  Aisktl 

Wrap  iby  fonn  b  a  mantle  grry, 

Staf-inwrougtit ! 
Btiod  wiiii  th'mc  hair  ihc  eyes  of  Day ; 
Kim  her  until  the  be  wuriL'd  out 
Then  wacMlcr  o'tr  diy  aod  m  nd  had, 
Tonchiof  all  «-itb  ihinc  opiaw  wiad— 

Coiat,  lon2>Mni(htt 

When  I  arow  ind  uw  the  dawn, 

I  lish'd  for  tbtc; 
Wbcn  light  rode  high.  u>d  the  dew  was  gone, 
And  nooa  Uy  bnvy  on  6i>wrr  and  tfce. 
And  the  wmy  Diy  tum'd  to  her  itu, 
Lisgeting  liVe  an  uolorod  guest, 

I  tigh'd  for  tbre. 

Tbj  bnidxT  Death  came,  ind  cried, 

*WouldM  thoa  me>' 
Thy  sweet  child  Skep,  the  filmy-eyed, 
Munnur'd  like  a  oooobde  bc«-, 
■Shall  I  nesile  oev  thy  side? 
Wouldsi  thou  mej'— And  I  ttplkJ, 

'  No,  not  thee  I ' 

Death  will  come  when  thou  art  deed. 

Soon,  too  soon — 
Sleep  will  conte  whea  ihou  art  ttd. 
Of  aeilher  would  I  >sk  the  boon 
I  ask  of  thee,  brIotM  Nlghi — 
8w\h  be  thine  appxMctuQg  BigH 

Cone  uaa,  *«m1 


PERCY  BYSSHE  SHELLEY 


aij. 


/•'torn  the  Arabic 


■  doe 

J 


\h  Y  Jiini  tpifit  VIM  sittiDg  b  tlw  liglit 
■I'A         Qf  ^,y  looks,  my  Jovt  1 

II  jFunted  (ot  tixe  like  tlie  hiixl  »  ncxxi 

For  the  broolu,  my  late. 
Thy  bart^  whose  hoolit  ouupcctl  the  icmpcvt'a 

Ban;  tkrc  f«r  from  mc; 
My  heart,  for  my  weak  feet  wcie  wvsry  soon. 

Did  conijioion  tbte. 

Ah!    fleeter  fu  tlua  fleetest  atom  or  >iec(l, 
Or  the  death  tbcy  bear. 
The  heart  which  tender  thought  clothes  Kkc  ■  dM 
With  the  s-iagfi  of  anti 
In  the  battle,  tn  the  <Lbkoe&t,  ia  the  nerd, 
SKill  miDc  ding  to  tbce, 
Nor  ctud)  one  smile  for  all  the  comiwi,  loTe^ 
Ii  nuy  bring  to  thee. 

^T^nEN  the  Ijmp  is  (hatter 'd, 
'''       The  tghi  in  the  dtiM  lies  dead ) 

When  (he  clowl  is  ecjiter'd, 
The  rainbow's  glory  is  shed  i 

Wlien  the  lute  ia  broken, 
Sweet  tOMS  are  lemeaibtt'd  iWt 

Wlien  the  lips  iMve  ipoken, 
Lotcd  accents  ate  »ooti  forgot. 

As  mu^ic  ind  splendour 
Sunivc  not  ibe  iuiip  and  the  late. 

The  heait's  ecboeii  ratder 
No  song  when  the  spint  a  nwte— 


PfiRCY  BYSSHE  SHELLEY 

No  *oog  but  ud  dirgn. 
Like  tbf  iriad  throush  »  ruio'd  <«U, 

Ot  the  ibowiUbI  6urgo 
Thit  nog  Ae  dead  Maraan's  koeU. 

Wliea  hcirl*  hare  ooct  miagM, 
Lo*e  fim  leatM  the  wdl-iuili  nnt) 

The  wnk  oae  ii  siaglcd 
To  endure  what  it  ooce  jiossnt. 

0  Lore,  wbo  bewailnt 
llie  fnilty  of  iH  tlibgs  here, 

Wbjr  chooic  jrou  the  frwIcM 
For  yow  cradir,  your  borne,  uxl  your  birr  I 

Ii3  fosMCHU  will  rock  ihtt. 
At  tbe  uorau  rock  the  tairas  on  hi{h  i 

Bright  nasoa  will  mock  thw, 
Like  the  sun  from  ■  wintry  skjr. 

Fram  thy  nest  trtrj  nftcr 
Will  rot,  aod  Ibinc  ngli-  home 

Leaie  tbce  naked  to  Imghtcr, 
When  Iea>cs  fall  aod  cold  winds  come. 


n  — 

/^NE  word  is  too  often  ptofwcd 
^-^     Pot  tne  10  pro&M  it; 
Oae  fediog  too  Gdacly  Ssdua'd 

For  thre  to  diwlam  it ; 
One  hope  a  too  like  dnpir 

For  pnideooe  to  sniotber; 
Aod  pty  from  tbee  mon;  dor 

Thu  dot  from  mother. 

A3  J 


PERCY  BYSSHE  SHE^LLEY 

I  cm  give  not  what  ricd  call  lo*ei 

But  wilt  thou  Kccjit  not 
The  vonhip  the  hum  Ufa  aboie 

Aod  the  hui-ens  reject  not. 
The  desire  of  ttic  inotli  for  the  Mar, 

Of  the  night  for  the  morrow, 
The  devotjoo  to  woKthing  thi 

From  the  splmc  of  oar  sorrow  I 


616. 


The  S^fs/im 


T  DREAM'D  th^  m  I  wasdei'd  by  ibe  way, 
^     Bwc  Winter  suddenly  wu  cbuiged  10  Spiogi 
And  i^ntle  odouis  led  niy  Stej>f  istny, 

Mix'd  with  a  Bouod  of  W2tcr&  luunnuriog 
Along  II  slidvJBg  buik  of  luif,  wluch  Uy 

Uiidcf  a  copse,  aad  hudly  dirtd  10  fling 
lis  green  arras  round  the  bosoni  of  the  stream. 
But  kiu'd  it  »d  thea  fled,  u  thou  cnightcM 

There  grew  pied  wind-fiowcrs  and  tiolcts; 

Daises,  thooc  pe&rl'd  Arciuri  of  the  eanh. 
The  constellated  fiowcr  that  nerer  sctsj 

Faint  oxlips;   tender  blucbdla,  M  who»c  tnrdil 
The  bod  &CUCC  heaved;  and  that  toll  Hover  tlut  «ti»- 

Like  a  child,  half  in  tendemeu  and  roinh — 
It»  mother'x  face  with   heaven ■coltccted  icarf 
When  the  low  wind,  hj  pJnyntate's  Toio^  it  bean. 

And  in  the  warm  hedge  grew  lush  eglaotine^ 
Greco  cowtiind  and  the  moooKgtit-colour'd  May, 

And  cbcrry-blunsoma,  and  while  cufs  whose  wine 
Was  the  bn][hi  dew  yet  drain'd  not  by  the  day  1 


^^t-"** 

^ 


Wl 
w 


PERCY  UYSSHE  SHHLLEY 

ad  wild  rosn,  »aA  i*y  Kr]'cMlne, 

XVitb  iu  (luk  buds  ud  Iciiires  modcriBg  uirayi 
And  dowcn,  aiwe,  bUck,  uui  nruk'd  with  gvid, 
l-'Mtvr  ihaa  onjr  wakca'd  eyn  bcbold. 

id  nearer  CO  the  rii'cx's  Urmbling  <d£c 
I'iKic  grew  biwid  flag-Aowvn,  pufJe  pntik'd  with  whiEr, 
Anil  Mjrry  rivet-buds  among  ihe  Mdge, 
And  lIoMioj  wuer-lilicft,  btvad  aiid  blight, 
hicli  Li  ihc  oak  that  otvifautig  the  hcd^c 
M'iib  moonlisbt  beams  of  their  o^n  vAUry  light  | 
nd  bulmbci,  Mid  mds  of  such  deep  gcccn 
MoUied  the  dazzled  eye  with  tobcr  f^lieeo. 

inCbi  that  of  ibcK  ftuouLry  llowcn 
I  made  a  voaegty,  boutxl  in  such  a  vny 
Wt  llie  same  hues  which  in  thcif  iuiu--al  bowcti 
Were  miauled  ot  opposed,  tbe  like  array 
'|<t  these  iroproon'd  children  of  the  Hours 
WttJitn  my  hand;  — nod  then,  cU'^  and  giy, 
hjMcn'd  to  the  spit  whence  I  had  come, 
7~h>t  I  m^bt  there  |>rvKnt  it — O  I    to  whom  I 


Remoise 


AWAVt    tSr  moor  is  dirk  brneatlt  tlie  moon, 
*^     It^iid  Jouds  ha<e  druok  the  last  ftilr  beam  of  ewn: 
Away  1  the  tplheitns  ^'vAs  will  call  ilie  darkoru  mod. 
And   I'toloundest  midnight  ihroud   llic  ttciene   lights  of 
hcaicn. 
Puine  B0«!  the  linw  it  patt!     Every  Toice  cries  *Aujiy!* 
Tem^  not  wiih  one  last  tear  thy  fricod't  ungentle  mood : 
>  loici'^eye,  sogtazcdaod  cold,  dirct  oot  entreat  thy  auf : 
>uty  and  dereliction  {uidc  tiwe  har:)L  to  wlilude. 


PERCY  BYSSHE  SHELLEY 


Away,  away !    to  thy  sad  and  sU«Dt  Uciiac  { 
Pour  biiler  tears  on  its  dnolAled  Iinnii ; 
Watch  ttie  dim  shades  as  like  ghosts  ihef  np  uii 

And  complicate  stnnge  vein  of  meUncfaoljr 
The    leaves    of  wasted    autumn    woods    slutl    flotf ' 
thiae  head, 
The    blooms  of  dewy  Spring  shall   glctm   bentadi 
fen: 
But  thy  soul   or  tilts  world  must  fade  in   the    ffoR 
binds  the  dead, 
Ere  midnight's  frown  and  morning's  smilr,  ae  iImk  i 
peace,  may  meet. 

The  cloud  shadows  of  midnight  possess  their  ows 
For  the  wcaiy  winds  arc  silent,  or  the  moon  is  ■> 
deep; 
Some  respite  to  its  tutbuIcDce  imresting  oceaa  koows; 
Whaiever  taom  or  toils  or  gneves  haih  tis 
sleep. 
Thou  in  the  grave  shalt  rest: — yet,  till  the  fibkouniH  fce^ 


PERCY  BrSSHE  SHELI.EY 


r 

^m  Row  ]f:ivcs,  when  the  rase  is  icad, 

■  Are  hnpM  for  thr  tictovtd'i  bed ; 

^B  And  M  th/  lbou|;lKS,  vhcn  ihou  an  {one, 

^P  Love  itself  sitill  slumber  on. 


HEW  AINSME 
difi.  fyillie  BttJ  Helm 


*  W^HAREHORU  Mu'd  ye  utk  o'  love, 
**       Unless  it  he  10  foin  w! 
Wliairforc  Mu'd  ye  l^lk  o'  love 
Wtuto  yc  s^  the  Ki  nuuD  twtm  »« \  * 

>  It 's  no  becmice  my  lore  is  light, 
Nor  for  your  angry  drddyi 

It's  ^  to  boy  yc  |>evlins  brigbt. 
An'  to  busk  ye  like  a  leddy.' 

'  0  Willy,   I  on  caird  an'  spin, 

Se  ne'er  can  wast  for  c)c«din'; 
Ao'  gio  1  hac  my  Willy**  hpjrt, 
I  liae  a*  the  prarlt  I'm  lieedin*. 

'Will  it  be  time  to  jinuw  tins  cheek 
Whan  yesus  m'  tears  has  Uencb'd  it? 

WiU  it  be  time  to  talk  o'  love 

Wtun  oiuU  m'  care  has  tjwnch'd  '\xV 

He's  bid  ae  ban'  about  ber  waist — 
The  itber's  held  to  heaven; 

An'  hk  huk  wu  tike  the  luik  o'  nun 
Wha's  he«n  in  tm  b  riTen. 

At,  Avdtn']  etdhios. 


rn><*^ 


/f20. 


JOHN  KEBLn 
ffuna/  of  the  'Dead 


T  THOUGHT  w  mctt  no  mow,  w  drwry  mvidM 
*     Death's  tfttFrpmuig  veil,  aad  thou  m>  pnir, 

Thy  place  in  Pvudise 

Beyood  wliere  I  conid  uar; 

PrieiMt  of  tlii4  wonh!es4  b«n  I   but  bappter  thon^i 
Spting  like  unliiJdfn  violets  from  the  sod, 

WTicre  putienOy^  thou  uk'st 

Thy  sweet  and  sure  repose. 

T?ie  <ihadoiirs  full  mote  soothing:  the  soft  air 
Is  full  of  cheering  whi^WTS  like  thine  own; 

While  Memory,  by  thy  grate, 

Li*«  o'er  thy  funeral  ilay; 

Tlie  deep  knell  dying  down,  ihc  movntcrs'  psoK, 
Wxiiini!  their  Saviour's  welcome  at  the  gate. — 

Sure  with  the  words  of  Htartn 

Thy  sjjitit  met  us  there, 

And  MUght  with  us  along  th*  aocustom'd  way 
The  hallow'd  porch,  and  entering  iti,  beheld 

The  psgennt  of  sad  joy 

So  dear  lo  Psith  and  Hope. 

O I    hnd»t  thou  brought  a  stnin  from  Pandise 
To  cheer  u^,  h.ippy  sou!,  thou  hadit  not  looch'd 

The  sacred  springs  of  gwf 

More  tenderly  and  tnic, 


PiOHK  KEBLE 
M  dcqi-vraibled  antbems,  high  and  tow, 
Jk  gnirc,  high  tt  th'  Eternal  Thnmr, 
Guiding  throagb  light  and  gloom 
Our  mouralDg  fanbn  wild, 

'nil  gaiih/,  Itlw  mA  goldva  cicnda  K  rre 
Around  the  western  twilight,  all  sufawle 
Into  a  placid  faith. 
Thai  even  vitb  beanung  eye 

Cooots  thy  sad  boooun,  coffin,  bin,  and  iNtll] 
So  many  retici  of  a  fnil  Ion  io^t. 

So  nuny  tokm  dear 

Of  endlns  lore  began. 

Lbtrn  1    it  is  no  dmm :   th'  Apostle*'  tramp 
Cites  e>nw«  of  ih*  AKhnn^l's ; — calntir  noWf 

Our  hrans  yet  beating  high 

To  that  Ttctorious  lay 


I 


(Mom  Itlte  a  warrior**,  to  (Ite  martial  dirce 
Of  a  trae  comrade),  in  the  g^re  we  trust 

Our  irratorc  for  awhile: 

And  if  >  tear  siral  down. 

If  hunttn  mpiisli  o'er  the  sbided  brow 

Pass  sbudderiog,  when  the  bandiiil  of  pme  earb 

Touches  the  coffin-lid ; 

If  at  oar  bcothef's  name, 

Once  and  ifiiti  the  theiajht,  'for  ever  gone,* 
Come  o'er  us  like  a  cloud;   yet,  gende  «prigtii. 
Thou  tumett  not  away. 
Thou  knoVst  us  calm  at  heart. 


JOHN  KEBLE 

Ok  look,  tad  wc  hare  seen  c&  Ian  of  tlM>e, 
TtU  we  too  clMp  and  oar  long  slrcp  be  o'er. 

O  elrtftsc  va,  CTc  w  ricw 

Tbti  ooufiKnaacc  puiv  agMt, 

'niou,  who  cann  cban^  tbc  heart,  aod  ni«r  llw  <k>il 
As  Tbou  ut  by  to  MMtlie  onr  |antQjt  horn. 
Be  ready  wSeo  we  meet, 
With  Thy  iaa  fuioohg  woids. 


JOHN  CLARE 
tfil.   Wriffea  /«  Nortbamptm  County 

Asjfhm  ^a», 

T  AM!  yet  what  I  Nt  who  urrt,  or  knonf 
'  My  friends  foruke  me  lilte  ■  memory  loM- 
I  nm  lie  sclf-consutncr  of  my  won; 

They  rise  ind  Tviish,  an  oblivious  hosi, 
Sliadows  of  life,  wlio«  iwy  soul  b  li>5i. 
And  yet  I  aai — I  live— ibougk  1  am  toss'd 

Into  tbe  i)(>*Jiingness  of  Kom  and  noUe, 
Into  the  living  tea  of  wtikiitg  dmai, 

Wierc  there  is  ctttJicr  sense  of  life,  nor  joys, 
But  the  huge  ehipwreck  of  my  own  cMeeni 

Aod  fttl  (hat's  dear.     Ertn  ibosc  I  lond  the  bcK 

Arc  (Usage — luy,  iliey  are  smngtr  than  the  rtit- 

I  long  for  scenes  where  man  has  nev«r  trod— 
For  scenes  where  wonun  ne>-er  smiled  or  wrft' 

There  to  alnde  with  my  Creotor,  God, 
And  sleep  as  I  in  diilclhood  sweetly  skft, 

Full  of  higti  thoogtits,  Dnbom.     So  let  n»r  Be,— 

The  grais  below;   above,  the  nulted  sky. 


A 


Dust,  10  ils  Dtrrow  bouse  bcnextli ! 

Soul,  to  iu  pLkce  00  liigh ! 
Thry  that  lure  seen  tiij  look  in  dmb 

No  moR  ma;  fear  to  die. 


FGIJCIA  DOROTHEA  HEMANS 

rf'^ALM  om  ihc  bocom  of  ihy  God. 
^-^     Fiir  ifrifit,  nn  thee  now  1 
E'en  while  wilh  oun  thy  foocsiqA  irod, 
His  seal  wss  on  thjr  brow. 

Dust 

Sc 
The, 

^  JOHN  KF.ATS 

623.       Smg  of  the  Indian  Mn'tJ 

nOM   'EXDTHIOX' 

r>.  SORROW! 

^— '     \\'hy  doit  botrow 
The  iwinnl  hue  of  Itraltb,  from  vcirneit  lips  \^ 

To  give  miideD  blufhes 

To  the  white  rose  bu&hes? 
Or  b  it  ibjr  dewy  htnd  the  daisy  tjpsf 

O  Sorrow! 
Why  dost  borrow 
haDTCS  laasioa  from  ■  filcon-e^-e  \— 
To  pTC  tbc  £low-worm  light  i 
Or,  00  a  tnoooleu  oighl, 
To  tinfie,  oo  stren  thores,  the  uJl  sea-spr)-? 

,»«Mp«yliM-q»»jr. 


JOHN  KEATS 

O  Sorrow! 

Why  dost  borrow 
The  mellow  ditties  from  a  mcmrniRg  tongue  .'- 

To  give  at  evening  psle 

Unlo  the  nightingale, 
That  thou  mayst  listen  the  cold  de«-s  nmcnjF 

O  Sorrow! 

Why  dost  borrow 
Heart's  lightness  from  the  merriment  of  Mij!- 

A  lover  would  oot  tread 

A  cowslip  on  [he  head. 
Though  be  should  dance  from  epe  till   peep  ef  Aj* 

Nor  any  drooping  fiower 

Held  sacred  for  thy  bower. 
Wherever  he  may  sport  himself  and  play. 


To  Sorrow 

I  bade  good  morrow, 
And  thought  to  leave  ber  £u  awa;  beluiHlt 


PJOHN  KEATS 
if  [ojm-owfi,  by  the  river  Me, 
rfjMDg:    whM  msmnvt'd  bridr, 
y  »ludowy  wooer  from  ilw  dnuds, 
But  hidea  and  sbroiKls 
Bennth  dvlc  palm-tmi  by  a  n*n  side? 

I  And  09  I  ttt,  am  the  light  blue  hPh 
TtiRV  Clime  a  noise  of  rerellera ;   the  rill* 
Into  the  wide  Stnam  canie  of  purple  hoe— 
TwM  BtcchuR  and  hi*  crew  I 
The  «jnc«  treraprt  spake,  and  <.ilvet  thrill* 
Piotn  kissing  cymbals  made  a  merry  din — 
^^  Twas  Bacchus  and  his  ktn ! 

^■Like  to  a  moving  TinO)[e  down  they  came, 
^^bgwn'd  wkh  green  leaves,  and  faces  all  on  flame  i 
^BKl  madly  dancing  through  the  pleataot  valley, 
^P  To  •mre  thee,  Melaochofy! 

O  then,  O  then,  thou  wast  a  simple  name ! 
And  1  fof^pt  thee,  as  (he  berried  holly 
By  shepherds  is  forgotten,  whea  in  June 
^-Tall  clKUnuts  keep  airay  the  sun  and  tnoon:— 
^t  I  nish'd  iato  the  folly  I 


Within  his  car,  aloft,  yoniig  Bacchus  stood, 
Trifling  his  ivy-dan,  tn  dancing  mood. 
With  sidelong  laughing ; 
Eltle  rills  of  crimson  wjoe  imbrued 
lis  plump  white  arm*  and  shmttden,  enough  white 
Fof  Vcnu*'  por^  biiej 
[And  near  him  rode  SitrooB  on  his  bm, 
with  Howen  as  he  on  did  pan 
Tipsily  qnfling. 

M 


JOHN  KEATS  ^H 

'  Whence  came  ye,  mcrrjr  Damsels  I    whencr  ant  ft 

So  many,  and  so  many,  and  such  g}ecl 
Why  have  ye  left  your  bowers  desoUte, 

Your  lute5,   and  gentler  fate ,' ' — 
'  We  follow  Bacchus !    Bacchus  oo  the  wing, 

A -conquering ! 
Dacchus,  young  B3,cc!iiis  1    good  or  ill  brtid^ 
We  dance  before  him  thornugh  kingdoms  wide: — 
Come  hitlicr,   lady  fair,   and  joined  be 

To  our  wild  minstrelsy  ! ' 

'Whence  came  ye,  jolly  Satyrs!    whence  came  yt. 

So  many,  and  so  many,  and  such  glee  ? 

Why  have  ye  left  your  forest  haunts,   why   left 

Your  nuts  in  oak-tree  cleft  J' — 
'  For  wine,   for  wine  we  left  our  kernel   t:Te  : 
For  wine  «-c  left  our  heath,  and  yellow  brooms, 

And  cold  mushrooms; 
For  wine  we  follow  Bacchus  tlirough  the  Mtthj 
Great  £od  of  breatliless  cups  and  cliii|jii)g  minh! 


FJOHN  KEATS 
UK  oars  and  siDieti  sails  they  gide, 
Nor  care  for  wbd  and  tide. 

MouDied  on  jiatubtis'  fws  and  lions*  BianeSt 
Ftuoi  rear  to  van  tbey  scour  about  the  plains ; 

»A  three  dayt'  jounwjr  !a  a  nKiiDcnt  done; 
And  alwa;*,  at  the  nnng  of  the  suo, 
Ahout  (he  wilda  tbcy  bunt  with  tfcu  and  hoiB, 
Os  ifilctnAil  nnkorn. 

II  uw  Oiirian  Egypt  kiKcl  adowa 
hefan  i)ic  iinc-vrr»h  croun ! 
I  saw  puck'd  AbysjinU  route  aad  sing 
To  the  silver  cymbals'  ring! 
I  saw  the  wbdmitig  ntiiage  holly  [wioc 
Old  Tartar/  the  fierce  I 
Tilt  kings  of  Inil  dttir  ynvd-ecqMrM  tsU, 
And  From  their  treasures  scatter  [■carlid  httl; 
Great  Brahma  Irotn  his  mystic  heaven  groans, 

And  an  hii  priothood  moans, 
Bcfbra  youog  Bacchns*  cye-«mk  innuDg  pole. 
Into  dttH  regions  came  I,  ToUowing  Mm, 
Sidt-boffted,  wcvy — so  I  cook  a  whim 
To  stray  away  iato  ibese  forests  drear, 

Alone,  without  a  peer; 
And  I  ban  told  thee  aQ  thou  nuycit  hear. 

Young  Slia&srrl 

I'tc  been  a  ranger 
In  scircli  of  pleasure  througboHt  crcry  climei 

Alasl   ^  not  fee  mel 

Bewitch'd  I  tare  must  be. 
To  k)ae  ia  grieving  all  my  iiuidai  fOBW. 


JOHN  KEATS 

Come  tbco,  Sonraw, 

Sweeten  Sorrow ! 
l.ilx  ui  own  twbe  I  nunc  tliec  oo  my  brcMi 

1  tJiouj>ht  tn  leave  tbee, 

And  deccitc  ibet, 
Hut  BOW  of  all  the  world  1  Ion  tbcc  boL 


There  is  not  one, 

No,  no,  not  one 
Uai  tbec  to  coiaion  a  poor  londy  nuidi 

Thou  nn  her  mother, 

Acid  her  brother, 
lier  ]i|«yBuie,  and  her  vooa  b  tlie  tliadc 


I 


\ll  Y  heui  ■chn,  and  a  drowsy  numbocss  pafas 
^'-^     My  Kow,  u  thou^  of  hemlock  I  bid  inA 
Or  emjitied  some  dull  ojute  to  the  dnini 

One  minute  put,  and  Lcthe-wanU  lud  tutXi 
'T'a  not  tluou^h  envy  of  thy  hapjty  lot, 
Bill  being  UK)  lujipy  in  thy  bajifaicu, 

1'hai  thou,  ligh;-wingtd  DryiJi  of  the  uea, 
In  tome  mclodiota  ]<lot 
or  bcrchcti  gmit,  and  shadows  nuaubcitcu, 
Siagest  of  sumaacr  b  fuU-thnwccd  tuae. 

0  for  B  driught  of  rintagc !    that  hath  btra 
Cool'd  n  long  age  in  the  dcep-ddvM  cailh, 

Tasting  o(  I'iora  and  tlie  country-green, 

Uancc,  asd  Proven^  »ng,  and  sunburnt  mirth! 


JOHN  KEATS 

0  (or  a  beaker  fall  of  the  wann  South  I 
Kull  of  ilw  uw,  iht  blushful  HippocKne, 
With  boded  bubbles  winking  u  the  btim, 
And  ptnple-iuisU  inouih; 
lliat  I  might  drink,  and  leave  tlic  world  untmi, 
And  with  tbee  fade  awiy  into  the  foicM  dini; 


'ode  fu  away,  diuolre,  and  qutie  forgn 

>Vhti  thou  among  the  kamt  but  ncm  known, 
The  wcahncn>  the  t'cvcr,  and  tbc  fret 

Heic,  whtra  nicD  ut  und  hrai  each  uher  gtotini 
Wbnc  laUy  th«ka  a  few,  wd,  l^&i  gic>  luiis, 

\\'li(ric  youth  grows  |ialc,  and  s|>KUi:-thia,  and  die»| 
Where  but  to  think  i»  to  be  full  of  xorrow 
And  leaden-eyed  dcsjaits  t 
Where  beauty  c«iix>t  Imp  bet  Uatnna  eyes, 
Oi  new  Lote  |ane  U  them  beyond  to-Bunow. 

way  I    away!   for  I  will  6y  to  tbec, 
Not  charioted  by  fiacduw  and  his  jwrds, 
lut  on  tlK  licwIcM  vbgs  of  Poesy, 

TboiSb  tbc  dull  biain  |>rT]4cxcs  and  retards  i 
Urady  with  ibecl    tender  b  the  night, 
And  ha|jy  thi-  Qucen-Mooo  is  on  her  thrane, 
Clnaicr'd  amund  by  all  her  starry  Fays[ 
But  bne  there  ti  no  Itgbt, 
Save  what  from  beaten  is  with  the  breezes  blown 
Thtou^  vcrdurotts  glooms  and  winding  mossy  wiyk 

canon  see  wiku  flowen  are  ai  my  f«(, 

Nor  wiiai  soJi  iaccax  b^^igs  t^aa  ifai  bonglia, 


JOHN  KEATS 


BbI,   in  embalmed  darkness,  guess  each 

Wherewith  the  scisonaUc  roooth  endows 
The  grass,  the  thicket,  and  the  fhut'tiw  arild; 
White  hawtlioro,  and  the  pastoral  rgUmiiiu  t 
Fast-fading  violcK  corct'd  up  in  Icatrs  i 
Aad  mid-May's  eldest  child. 
The  coming  muak-rosc,  full  of  dewy  win?. 
The  munuuious  haunt  of  Hies  oo  siumwr 


Darkling  I  listen;    and  for  manj  a  time 

I  have  been  half  in  lore  with  cascfiJ  D«eh, 
Call'd  him  soft  names  in  many  a  musid  rhjiu:^ 

To  take  into  the  air  my  quiet  hralfa; 
Now  more  than  ever  seems  it  rich  to  die. 
To  cea^e  upon  the  midnight  with  no  pdn. 
While  thou  ait  pouring  fonh  thy  soul  atmad 
In  such  an  ecstnsy ! 
Sril!  wouldst  thou  sing,  and  I  hare  ears  ta  wi 
To  thy  high  requiem  become  a  sod. 


JOHN  KB  ATS 

Adieu  I   tbe  haey  cxnoot  cfacM  m  w«U 

As  sbe  is  Guned  to  do,  dcccinog  «lf. 
Adini !    adieu !    thy  |i1ab[i>e  xnthem  (mka 
Put  tbe  near  roeadowi,  ovtt  the  suit  Utcwn, 
Up  the  hiU-nde)   sod  dow  ^  boied  deep 
In  fhe  next  viUeyglwles  i 
Wu  It  k  ^isioD,  or  a  mkbg  dmmi 
Fled  is  ilut  music  t— do  I  wake  or  sleejij 


■tfif. 


Oat  m  a  Greciaa  Urn 


n^HOU  stiU  uoraviih'd  bride  of  tjuictneiii; 
^      Tliou  fo«tcr-child  of  Silence  and  slow  Time, 
Sylraa  liiitDnaii,  who  can«t  thus  express 

A  Bowrrjr  ule  more  >u-ceily  than  our  rhyme; 
Whit  leaf-fnnpd  lepod  haunts  iboot  ihy  thape 

E.    Of  dcitiai  or  mortals,  or  of  both, 
I       1r  Tcmpe  or  the  daks  of  Arcady? 
'    What  mm  or  godi  are  these?    Wlut  nuidcns  loth? 
Whu  mad  pKMaif    What  struggle  to  e»cq«f 
I        What  jiipo  and  timbrels  f     Wlut  wiM  ecsLuy? 
^eard  mdodiei  arc  swn,  bat  those  uiAcard 
Are  iwrcter ;    thctclbtt,  yc  soft  ^yfs,  play  oo; 
Not  to  tlic  iicusuil  cu,   but,   more  cndear'd, 

Pipe  to  the  spuil  ditties  of  oi>  luoe: 
F^  youth,  beneath  the  trees,  ihou  cmsi  not  leaie 
Thy  sodft  DOT  erer  can  thoic  trees  be  bate; 
Bold  Loier,  ocvcr,  ocirr  canst  thou  hi^ 
I^ugh  Hinuiog  OEM  the  goil — yet,  do  not  grietc  i 
She  cioDot  &de,  tbovgh  thou  hut  not  thy  bliiA, 
For  iMT  wik  thou  Iotc,  and  she  be  fair  I 

V9 


JOHN  KEATS 

Ab,  happiri  M*!?  boughs  I    that  noDOt  shn) 

Your  leans,  nor  erer  bid  the  Spring  adini; 
And,  tiRfipy  mclodin,  unwciriM, 

For  evCT  pping  tong«  fo«  etcr  oewj 
More  hapfiy  love!    more  h«ppy,  happjr  love  I 

For  cm  wann  imd  atill  to  be  cajoy'd. 
For  em  paaUDg  a&d  (ot  em  yooag; 
All  bmibiog  human  pMsioD  far  above, 

That  Imies  a  hrait  bigh-wrrowfsl  aad  cloy'i 
A  burning  forehead,  md  a  prdung  ton 

Who  an  these  coming  to  die  tacrilice ! 

To  what  green  alur,  O  mjrsicrioas 
Lead*sc  ihou  that  heifer  towing  at  the  skiet, 

Aod  all  her  silken  flanks  with  ^laada  dmtt, 
Wliai  little  town  by  river  or  sra-shorr. 

Or  mountain -built  with  peaceful  citadel, 
Is  emptied  of  its  tbik,  (his  pous  mora? 
And,  little  town,  thy  streets  for  evermore 

Will  tiileat  bei   and  oot  a  soul,  lo  tell 
Why  thou  an  desolate,  caa  e'er 


O  Attic  shape  I    fair  attitsde !    wkh  bnde 

Of  marble  men  and  maidens  orerwrotiglit. 
Witit  forest  branches  and  the  trodden  weed; 

Thou,  silent  font)  1  dost  tease  us  out  of  i 
As  doth  eternity.     Cokl  Panoral! 

When  old  age  shall  this  generadon 
Thou  shalt  reniain,  in  midst  of  other 

Than  ours,  a  friend  to  man,  to  wluxn  tbon 
'  Beauty  is  truth,  truth  beaiMy,^i)ut  is  all 
Ye  know  on  euth,  and  ill  yc  need  to 


JOHN  KEAT3 


ffid. 


QJe  to  "Psyche 


r>k  GODDESS !   hur  tbne  tunelcM  mmben,  wnuif 
^^     liy  iwcct  mfDCCOMnt  and  rancmbnincc  dci-r, 
Anil  fdidon  that  thy  moco  tbodd  be  s«ng 

Even  into  thine  owa  saft-coocbtd  fw: 
Surdf  I  dccant'd  to-da/,  or  did  I  scv 

Tbe  wingM  Piycbe  wilb  amken'd  cyn? 
I  wandn'd  b  a  fomt  thauf;htleu]y, 

Ai>di  on  the  vuddes,  bintiiig  with  wrptiw. 
Saw  two  fair  cratuics,  oouchM  aide  by  »idc 

In  dctpc&t  gnt&^  beneath  tbc  wbHp'ring  roof 

Of  Icatcs  aad  mn^cd  blosxxtu,  whcte  tbne  taa 
A  brooklet,  Ksrw  cipied! 
'Mid  bmb'd,  eool>tootcd  downs  ftagnutt-eyed. 

Blue,  nhvT'Vhite,  aad  budded  T^ian, 
They  Uy  nlm-bnathios  oa  tbe  bedded  jnusi 

Their  aimt  embncid,  and  ihctr  ptniam  too ; 

Tbeif  lips  toucb'd  not,  but  had  not  bide  adicii. 
As  if  ditjouiid  by  *o{t-handed  ihnnber. 
And  ready  Hill  put  kiisn  lo  oumumbcr 

At  trader  eyc^lavn  of  auroreu  love : 
Tbc  win&M  boy  I  knew  j 

B«t  who  mat  thou,  O  hapi^,  bappj  do«c? 
His  Psyche  tree! 

0  htm^Mni  aod  loreliest  vision  lar 
Of  at)  Olympus'  faded  hknrcby ! 
aircr  thaa  Pbccbe's  upfiiirr-rcpon'd  sue. 
Or  Vesper,  amorous  glow-wonn  of  the  sky  t 
akcr  than  tbeSC!,  tbovgb  temple  thou  hast  none. 

Nor  altar  btap'd  with  Bowers  g 
W  Virgin-choir  to  nuke  dcbcioas  moan 
Upon  (be  midnight  boon; 


JOHN  KEATS 

No  *nc«,  no  luw,  no  pipe,  oo  incense  sweet 

From  cbwn-twung  ceasa  uxaaa^i 
No  sbriot,  00  gfoyc,  do  orHck,  do  beat 

or  palcHaouth'd  [vojiliict  d/taRiiag. 

0  bnghtett !    tbough  too  bie  fot  mu<{w  tow«, 
Too,  100  lute  fo«  the  fond  believing  lytc. 

When  holy  were  the  luuiucd  Antic  bouglih, 
Holy  tbc  Air,  tJic  water,  rad  the  Tuet 

Yet  cvcD  in  tliese  d«y8  so  fa  (ctited 
From  Infijiy  pieUn,  day  lucent  fans. 
Fluttering  BRiong  ibc  faint  01yni|MaKi, 

1  tec,  and  ling,  by  my  own  eye*  insjwed. 
So  Jet  me  tw  thy  choir,  and  niako  a  iumd 

Ujion  the  midaight  hours  i 
Tliy  Toice,  ihy  lute,  thy  jiipc,  thy  incense  vwrct 

From  swiogid  ceni«r  teeming: 
Thy  shriae,  tiiy  gioir,  iliy  oracle,  thy  hcM 

Of  folc-roouth'd  i^ibet  dieaning. 

Yes,  I  will  be  iby  priest,  snd  huiM  n  fane 

In  fame  iimroddi-n  region  of  my  mind. 
Where  br^nclij^l  Uiuughis,  new  grown  with  plcausl 

loMeid  of  pines  shall  munuur  in  ibe  wiod : 
Far,  far  around  shall  tliose  darfc-dustcr'd  tieo 

Ftedf;e  the  wild-iidg^  mountains  steep  by  tit(c|ii 
And  there  by  yxjiliyrs,  streams,  and  bJnls,  and  btCs 

The  mow-Iain  Dreads  shall  be  lull'd  W  sleep  t 
And  in  ih?  riiid^t  of  this  «ide  ((uietiiesa 
A  rosy  tiuicmary  will  1  dms 
W'ah  the  wrcaih*d  trellis  of  a  working  brain, 

Wicfa  buds,  and  bells,  and  stars  witboiK  a  n.une, 
With  all  the  gatdcnci  Fancy  e'er  could  firign, 

Who,  breeding  flowers,  will  oevct  btced  the  siOKi 
3» 


JOHN  KEATS 

And  there  alul)  be  for  thee  all  tofi  delight 
That  >hadowy  thought  cm  win, 

A  bright  torch,  and  ■  cawmcnt  ope  u  night, 
To  let  iSr  wwm  Love  in  I 


rfj7. 


To  Autumn 


CEASON  of  n««4  anJ  mallow  fruitfiilnrw! 
^  Clow  boMcn-rriend  of  the  nuturing  mini 
Conspiring  with  him  how  to  load  and  hlem 

With  fruit  the  vine«  tlut  itxmd  the  thatch-^am  ran; 
To  bend  with  appirt  the  iiKMs'd  conage-irees. 

And  fill  aU  fnni  with  ripciMM  to  the  core; 
To  >wfI1  ilie  gourd,  aad  pivmp  the  htzcl  %\mA\% 

With  a  sweet  kernel  i   to  set  budding  more, 
And  uiU  BHMe,  later  llowen  for  the  bees, 
Unti]  tbty  think  mm  days  will  Derer  cose. 

For  SuBuner  has  o'er-biimm'd  their  danuay  ceHs. 

Who  hatJi  not  Ktffi  thoe  oft  amid  thy  store  ? 

Sometimes  jthoeivt  ^crAi  abroad  may  Gad 
Thee  sitting  careleM  on  ■  granary  floor. 

Thy  hair  M(i>lifccd  by  tlie  winnowing  wind; 
Or  on  ■  balf-renp'd  farrow  *oitnd  askep. 

Drowsed  with  tlir  fume  of  popfiien,  while  thy  hook 
Spares  tite  next  swath  and  all  its  twinM  flowers ; 
Aod  sometinm  like  a  gleaner  thou  dom  keep 

Steady  thy  laden  ht^  .icn»«  a  bnxilti 

Or  by  a  eider-pieis,  with  patimt  look, 

Thoa  watcbeu  the  Ian  oodngs  bom  by  haan. 

Wiiere  are  iho  songv  of  Spring?    Ay,  where  are  they? 
Think  not  of  iJwm,  thou  hast  thy  music  too. — 


JOHN  KEATS 

Wliik  bortM  clouds  bloom  the  unfl-dyiag  (Ujr, 
And  toucli  Uic  stubble-plains  witli  ros^  liue ) 
Tlicn  in  x  wailfuJ  cbolr  titc  smill  gnxu 
Among  tlie  river  uUows,  boroc  aloft 
Or  uoking  sa  the  lij;ht  wind  lives  or  dieti 
And  fuU-grovn  Umbe  loud  blett  from  hilly  bourn) 
Hedge-crtdfets  bi^i   and  now  with  licble  soft 
Tlie  redbreaM  whntles  from  a  gardi-n-cruft ; 
And  piittnoi  swillowit  twitter  in  tl>c  tkta. 


62S,  Ode  on  Mehtncboly 

■^O,  not  fio  not  to  Lctlte,  nrithcr  twb* 

^  *      Wolf  s-bune,  tigbt-rooted,  fiir  its  poUonont 

Nor  luller  tbjr  pole  Ibrebead  to  be  kist 

B]r  olghuhadc,  rabjr  ^rape  of  rrowrprne; 
Make  not  your  rosaiy  of  yew-berrirs, 

N'ur  let  the  beetle,  nor  ibe  deatb-moib  be 
Your  mournful  Psyche,  dot  the  downy  owl 
A  jartncr  in  your  sorrow's  mysteries; 

I'or  thnde  to  shade  will  come  too  drowsily. 
And  drown  the  wakeful  anguish  of  the  soul. 

Dut  when  the  melancholy  lit  slull  fall 

Sudden  from  linrm  like  a  weeping  cloud, 
That  fosters  the  droop-headed  fiowers  all, 

And  hides  the  green  hill  ia  an  April  xhrood; 
Then  glut  ihy  soriow  on  a  momiog  rose, 

Or  on  the  rainbow  of  die  salt  sand-wave, 
Or  on  the  u-mlili  of  gtobM  pconiOi 
Or  if  thy  misirt-is  some  rich  an^er  ibows, 

Rmprisoo  Iter  solt  band,  and  let  Iter  rave. 
And  feed  deep,  deep  opoo  her  peerless  eye^ 

m 


JOHN  KEATS 

She  dwells  wtth   Beauty— Braui;r  th«  imiM  iliet 

Aod  Joy,  wiiow  hnd  U  trer  u  his  lipt 
Bidding  idievi  lad  adiing  Pleawre  nigh, 

Turning  to  potmi  whak  the  bevmooih  apt: 
Af,  in  the  rtrj  Kvfte  of  Ddight 

Vtil'd  Mel»cbcJ]r  ha%  htx  aomn  ihriac^ 
Though  seen  of  oooe  tatv  htm  whose  MrraooM 
Can  burst  Joy's  gnpe  igaiflsi  hb  palaw  fine; 

Hb  soul  shill  u^tc  the  sadness  of  ha  mighl, 
And  be  unoag  ber  clowdy  trophies  hang. 


» 


KX OTHER  of  Hennesl    and  uUl  youthfa! 

■^'^  M*y  I  ling  to  thee 

As  Ukm  wut  hprmM  oq  ihc  sboen  of  Bvxi 

Or  Ruy  I  woo  thee 
In  earlier  Sicilian  i   or  thy  sniiles 
SwV  as  they  ooce  were  nought,   in  Grecian  isle*. 
By  hatds  wlio  dkd  coatnit  on  jiaxan  sward, 

Leavmg  great  verse  ttato  a  littk  dan? 
O  give  me  thetr  oM  rigour  t    snd  onheard 
Save  of  the  quiet  ptimnne,  and  the  sfos 

Of  batten,  and  fev  cars, 
Roviiled  by  Ihcv,  my  toog  should  die  away 

Coomi  m  ihdrs. 
Rich  in  the  tunple  wotsliip  of  a  day. 


M»a! 


JOHN  KEATS 


fjo.  Hards  of  'Passim  and  tf  Mtrib 

tVnllm  en  thi  Bfmi  P^t  btfort  BttumBM  OMtl  Flitti 
IVajt-Cimufy  '  Tht  Far  Mmd  ^  tht  I'm' 

DARDS  of  Pasiioo  and  of  MirOi. 
*-'     Ye  have  left  your  souls  oo  enilhl 
HaTc  jre  30uU  tn  heaTcn  too, 
Double-liTcd  in  regionx  new? 
Yet,  »nd  ibose  of  hravm  coRttRDM 
With  ihe  iphwM  of  wn  and  moot)  | 
Witb  thr  noi«c  of  founuins  wonJrous, 
And  the  parlc  of  Toicrs  thund'roi»| 
Wiih  the  whifpTT  of  hwvrt's  tms 
And  one  another,  in  soft  cne 
SMted  on  Elysiiis  lawns 
Browsed  by  now  but  Di»n's  fawns: 
Undcmeaih  large  bluc>bdh  trated, 
Where  the  dainies  are  rowe-KCBtedi 
And  the  rote  herself  ha«  got 
Perfume  which  on  cntih  Is  not ; 
Where  i!\r  nightingalp  doih  sirig 
Not  a  scnK'li'M,  (rancid  iJung, 
But  divine  nwlodious  truth ; 
PliilfMopliic  Qumbera  smooth  i 
Tain  iuid  golden  hitctories 
Of  heaven  and  its  iDysterics. 

Thus  ye  lire  on  high,  and  tbm 
Oa  the  caith  y«  live  agun ; 
And  the  souls  ye  left  behind  jmi 
Teach  ns,  here,  the  way  to  find  jw, 
\Vhere  youi  other  sods  art  jor^S) 
Never  »lumber'd,  never  ctopng. 


JOHN  KEATS 

Hcct,  your  nnli-boni  souls  stSI  speak 
To  iBMUls,  of  tbnr  little  week  i 
or  tbeir  sorrows  vid  detighti; 
or  thnr  |tu»ont  and  their  iprtH; 
Of  ihetr  ^oiy  >nd  thrir  shimri 
What  doth  stmigtheD  tad  whtx  nuim. 
Thta  yt  teach  lu,  trctj  d»j, 
Wbdooi,  though  Sed  far  awiy. 

Buds  of  pBtsion  and  of  Mirth, 
Ye  hare  left  your  souls  on  euQi  1 
Y«  batv  wula  in  hraven  too, 
DoiMe-lired  in  le^iu  oewl 


pVGR  let  the  Fancy  roun^ 

"     Pleasure  DfTcr  is  at  hornet 

At  a  touch  sweet  Plnsuic  melteth, 

Like  10  hubblM  when   rain   peltcth  [ 

Then  let  wingM  Fancy  wander 

TTirough  the  thoughc  still  spread  beyond  hci; 

Open  wide  the  mind's  cage^door, 

Slie'U  dm  forth,  and  cloudwatd  Mar. 

O  sweci  Fancy!    1«  her  loose i 

Stimnier's  joy*  axe  spoilt  by  we, 

And  the  enjoying  of  the  Spring 

Fade*  as  doe«  its  blaooniiag; 

Antunia's  rcd-lipp'd  fruitage  tooi, 

fitushJDg  ibrongb  the  mist  and  dew, 

Cloys  with  lasting:    What  do  tbRtf 

Sit  thee  by  ihe  mgtc,  when 

like  Mar  faggot  bUxet  bri^t, 

■  b  m 


JOHN  KEATS 


Spirit  of  ■  winter's  nifiht  i 

WlKn  ibc  MWidlnK  cijth  is  muffled, 

And  tbo  cbIcM  saow  a  iibiilBcd 

From  tbe  ploogbbojF's  hravy  thooni 

V/hea  tbe  Night  doih  meet  tbe  NtXM 

In  a  dark  consjaracjr 

To  tikotsh  Even  ftoia  ber  sky. 

Sii  tbcc  there,  and  Mud  abroad. 

With  a  mind  self-ovctaweJ, 

Fancy,  higb-commission'd : — lend  h«! 

She  has  vis«aU  lo  ancod  her: 

She  will  bring,  in  spite  of  frott. 

Beauties  that  the  earth  Iiatfa  lostt 

She  will  being  tbce,  all  together, 

All  delights  of  bummer  wciithcri 

AU  the  buds  and  belli  of  Majr, 

From  dewy  swird  or  thony  spray  i 

All  tbe  heapid  Autsmn's  wealth. 

With  a  s^,  mysterious  stealth: 

She  will  mix  these  pjosum  np 

Like  ihrce  (it  wiises  in  a  cup. 

And  thou  shall  <|uair  it:— thou  aha]t  bur 

Distant  liar  vest-carols  clear ; 

Kwsile  of  the  reaped  conii 

Sweet  birds  aathouDg  tbe  mom: 

And,  in  the  same  moment — batkl 

'Tia  the  early  April  lark, 

Or  tbe  rook),  with  buity  ow, 

Foraging  for  ttickit  and  straw. 

Thou  «halt,  31  one  glanc^  bdiold 

The  daisy  and  the  marigold  i 

Whiu^plumcd  lilies,  and  tbe  dm 

Hcdge-^rown  primrose  that  bath  burAf 


nB 


JOHN  KEATS 

Stutded  hyacinth,  alway 
t>a]>pliire  <{iie«n  oi  the  mid-Miy  t 
And  ereiy  kaf,  and  tmy  flower 
PdfM  wkh  the  «clf-sainc  showrr. 
Thou  sbtlt  MT'  the  rtcldmousc  ptcp 
Mfjgir  from  its  ct-lIM  sleep  | 
Aod  the  snake  all  wintcr-tJiia 
Cast  on  sunay  bonk  its  ikini 
Freckled  aest'«gf^  tboa  shah  see 
Hatching  in  the  hawtbora-uer. 
When  the  hen-bird's  wing  doth  reii 
Quiet  on  her  moMy  ne«t ; 
Then  tbc  hurry  and  alartn 
When  ibfC  be«hivc  caiu  ita  swanu; 
Acorai  ripe  dowB-paturing 
While  Uk  luuirnD  brcczn  siag. 

O  swe«  Fancy!    tet  her  loose; 
Every  thinj  is  spoilt  by  use : 
Where's  the  diecic  ihtt  doth  not  fade, 
Too  mach  gaied  ut    Where's  the  mud 
WboM  lip  RURiie  is  erer  new? 
Where  "s  t!>e  eye,  Iioweeer  blue, 
Doth  not  weary?    Where's  the  &oe 
One  would  meet  in  erery  place? 
Where 's  the  voice,  howtTer  soft. 
One  would  hear  so  very  oft  ? 
At  «  touch  sweet  PIrajiae  mrlteth 
Like  to  butMcs  when  rain  pdicth. 
Let,  then,  wtngM  Fancy  liad 
Thee  a  mistress  to  thy  nnndi 
Duket-eyed  as  Ceres'  dao^Uer, 
Ere  the  God  of  TonaeM  tan£ht  her 

m 


JOHN  KEATS 

How  to  frown  and  bow  to  chide  i 

With  a  v-aist  and  vith  a  mIc 

While  M  Hebe**,  whcD  her  zone 

Sli|;t  iia  golden  cluis  and  down 

Fell  her  kirtlc  to  her  foct. 

While  she  held  the  goblet  sweet, 

And  Jore  gf«w  languid. — Utetk  tjie  RiaJi 

Of  the  Fancy's  sUkro  bosh ; 

Quickly  break  brr  fiiaootuiag, 

And  racb  joys  aa  thne  she'll  brtiiig. — 

Let  the  winged  Fancy  roan, 

Plniure  ni'ver  is  at  home. 


ifji. 


Stanaas 

TN  a  divaMUghted  December, 

Too  happy,  happy  tree, 
Thy  braodm  oc'er  remember 

Their  giTcn  fclidty : 
Tbr  north  cannot  undo  tliem. 
With  a  sitxiy  whistle  through  them; 
Nor  fn>irn  thaitings  glor  than 

From  budding  at  the  prioM. 

In  a  drMr.«ighiinI  December, 
Too  hupiiy,  happy  brook, 

Thy  bubblings  ne'er  rrmembcr 
Apollo's  sunuiin  lookj 

But  mth  a  sweet  forgetting, 

They  stay  their  crystal  ficuiod 

Never,  never  pettiqg 
About  the  fraxeo  time< 


!•» 


JOHN  KEATS 


rAli !    would  'twere  m  with  mui^ 
A  grade  gill  and  boy ! 
But  wrrc  there  crer  any 
WiBhcd  not  i*  )a«»NI  joy? 
To  know  the  change  ind  firtl  it, 
Wbtn  there  is  none  to  he-^  it. 
Nor  numbM  sense  to  Meal  it, 
Was  ncTW  said  in  rhyme. 

6sj.    La  BeiU  Dame  sans  Metci 


O 


WHAT  cui  ail  lhe«,  knight-at-arau, 
Alooe  md  [otely  loitering  { 
The  tcdge  is  withrr'd  (nm  iSc  lake, 


Ami  no  birds 


nng. 


'O  wh«  can  ail  ilwe,  knight-oi-arml, 

So  haggard  and  m  woc^begoncf 
The  »miirtel'i  granary  is  full. 

And  th«  harvot't  done. 

'I  MC  a  lilf  on  thy  brow 

With  anguish  moiit  and  ferer  dcw{ 
Aod  00  thy  cheek  a  Eading  row 
Fast  withereth  too.' 

'I  met  a  Udy  ia  the  meads, 

Full  beautiful— a  ficry's  child, 
Her  haif  was  long,  her  foot  was  lighi^ 
And  her  eyes  were  wild. 

*I  taade  a  ^land  Tor  her  head, 

And  bracelets  too.  and  fragrant  tone; 
She  lo<^'d  at  me  as  slic  did  lore. 
And  made  sweet  noan. 


JOHN  KEATS 

an  hrr  on  my  pacing  need 
And  nottiing  vise  uw  all  d»j  long. 
For  Mckiviys  would  the  lean,  ind  ling 
A  fiKry'a  song. 

'She  foond  mc  roots  of  lelbh  kwki. 

And  honey  vild  and  RiRRia  dcvr. 
And  sure  in  language  strange  tht  wi, 
"I  lo*e  tbce  iruc !  " 

'She  look  mr  to  IwT  d&n  grat. 

And  there  she  wept  and  ti^'d  full  wrc; 
And  tliere  I  »hat  Krr  wild,  wild  eyes 
With  kiucs  four. 

'And  there  sbe  luIlM  me  vdeep, 

And  Uieic  I  dream 'd— Ah  !   woe  bnide ! 
The  latnt  dntam  I  ever  dreatn'd 
On  the  EoM  hill's  »de. 

'I  saw  pate  king*  and  princes  too, 

Pale  warriore,  deatb-pale  were  they  all; 
Who  cried — "  La  bdle  Daane  uns  Mer<i 
Haib  thee  in  thrill  I  " 

*  I  uw  their  sLirred  lips  in  tlie  ghnm 

With  horrid  wanung  gapM  wid«, 
And  1  awoke  lod  Tound  me  here 
On  the  cold  hill's  side, 

'And  this  is  why  I  sojoum  here 

Alone  ittd  palely  loiiciing, 
Tliough  the  sedge  is  wither'd  fn>in  ibt  lake. 
And  no  biidt  ling.' 


iOHM  KEATS 


I 


J4.    Oh  first  looking  into  Chapman's  Homn 


\li  UCH  luK  I  inTcU'd  in  (he  mltnt  of  ^l>l, 
^^     And  miiny  good};  cutcs  rod  kingdoms  Hcn; 

Round  nuay  wrMern  iiLntls  luvc  I  btcn 
Which  hinlf  in  tcilty  lo  Apollo  hold. 
Oft  of  ODE  wide  expMM  ^mI  I  bm  (old 

That  dccftirow'd  Homer  nJed  u  his  demeue ; 

Yet  did  I  netvr  breathe  its  pure  lerene 
I'iil  I  hnnl  Chapman  sp«ak  o«it  loud  and  bold  1 
Then  fctt  I  like  «ome  watcher  of  the  allies 

When  a  sew  planet  •wimi  inu  his  ken  \ 
Or  like  mouI  Concz,  wim  «ilh  eagle  eyes 

He  stated  at  the  Padfo— and  all  his  men 
Look'd  »  each  other  wiili  a  vild  wmuK — 

Silent,  upon  a  peak  in  Darien. 


'i  f.  ff-'hen  I  At w  Fears  that  I  may  cease  ft  he 

"WyHEN  I  hare  fears  diat  1  may  cease  10  be 

**       Before  ray  pen  has  glean'd  ray  tcemng  brain. 
Before  hi^b-pilU  booki,  in  characl'ty, 
Hold  like  f^l  garrtm  the  full-Hpni'd  grain  1 
When  1  bebotd,  upon  the  raght's  starred  bee. 
Huge  cloudy  symbols  of  a  high  roraance^ 
And  fnl  that  I  may  ncrer  liic  to  trace 
Their  shadow!!,  with  (Jie  magic  band  of  chaacc; 
And  when  I  feci,  fair  cteauire  of  an  hour  1 
That  I  ahaO  iki«t  look  upon  ihee  more, 
Never  hare  itltsh  in  the  Earry  power 
Of  utireAecting  loret— theo  on  the  aboR 

Of  the  witle  world  I  ttaod  ^one,  and  think, 
Till  Lot«  and  Fame  to  ■otbtngBtas  do  aink. 

m 


JOHN  KEATS 

giS.  To  Sleep 

/~\  SOFT  emhiliDCT  i>f  the  stUI  myniRhtl 
^~^     ShMunn  with  careful  fingos  ancl  beoiga 
Our  gloom -pie  v«d  «yes,  embawer'il  from  the  1^ 

Pnih^cd  in  forgeifulnett  dinne ; 
O  scoihm  S\wp !  if  so  it  Tfinae  tim,  iiatK, 

In  niidst  of  this  thine  tijnnn,  toy  witling  tyti, 
Or  wait  I  lie  amen,  ere  thy  poppy  throws 

ArauntJ  my  bed  its  luUinft  charities  i 

Thm  s*ve  me,  at  the  pusM  diy  will  dkioe 
Upon  my  pillow,  breediog  many  woes ; 
Satv  mc  from  carious  cooKimce,  thai  still  loidi 

lis  strength  Tor  darkness,  burrowing  like  «  moli 
Turn  the  key  deftly  in  the  otIM  wards. 

And  fitii  the  liushM  cuket  of  my  souL 


<07. 


Last  Smnet 


DRIGHT  Stir,  would  I  were  sicadfau  as  iboa  ^~  '" 

"-^     Not  in  lone  splcodout  hung  aloft  the  night, 

And  watching,  with  eternal  Bds  apart, 

Like  Naiutc's  pititnt  alcrplcM  Bretime, 

The  moving  watem  at  their  pricKt-like  task 

Of  pure  ablution  round  e.inh's  hi^nun  shores. 

Or  gazing  on  the  new  soft-fallen  mask 

Of  snow  upon  the  mountains  and  ilie  moors — 

No— yet  still  steadfast,  still  uflchaognblr, 

I'illow-'d  upon  my  fiJr  love's  ripening  breast, 

To  feel  for  ever  tts  soft  fall  and  swell, 

Awake  for  ever  tn  a  itwecl  uorcKt, 

Still,  still  to  hear  her  tender-taken  breaib. 
And  so  live  cTer— or  el«  swoon  lo  death. 

H4 


JEREMIAH  JOSEPH  CALLANAN 
6iS.      The  Oufltw  of  l^b  Laie 

rHOM   TKK   lUtSH 

/^  MANY  a  dty  ha*e  I  tnadc  good  ale  b  ibc  gttn, 
^^     Thu  came  not  of  Kmitn  or  malt,  Ukc  tbe  brtwing 

of  mm: 
My  bnl  WM  tkc  grouod  i   my  roof,  the  {rtcn-wood  above  i 
Anil  the  wraith  th^   I  wu|{hl.  Doe  fu  kind  gtince  froni 

my  Love. 

Alu  !  on  i))M  aight  irheo  the  hones  I  ilroiv  fiora  cbe  CcM, 
Thai  I  was  not  near  from  tctrot  my  angel  to  ^icM ! 
SUc   Mretch'd   iottk  her   amu ;    ber  mantle  >bc  flung  to 

the  wind, 
And  swim  o'er  Loch  L«ne,  facr  outUw'd  lotec  lo  Imd. 

O  would  thai  a  ficning  deet-wi^'d  tcropcH  dkl  sweqi, 
And  [  and  my  loic  w«k  alooc,  far  off  on  the  deep; 
I'd  Mk  ooc  a  aliip,  or  a  bark,  or  a  |>iQnace,  to  u*e— 
Witit  her  hmd  rouod  my  waist,  I'd  few  oot  the  viod  at 
the  wave. 

Tis  dowo  by  the  lake  wh«re  the  wild  tTC«  (nDges  iu  siiks, 
^M  maid  of  my  heart,  ray  lair  one  of  Hmtti  rcndcc: 
t  Uiink,  as  at  eve  she  wanders  its  mazes  among, 
The  birds  go  to  sleep  bj  the  sweet  wild  twist  of  het  soog. 


■  b, 


M 


ino-n 


WILLIAM  SIDNEY  WALKER 

dip. 

""TOO  solemn  for  day,  too  sweet  for  ntgltt, 
^      Come  not  in  <L.iiknrM,  come  not  in  light ; 
But  come  in  »ome  twiligbt  intrrini. 

When  the  gloom  is  soft,  sod  tlw  light  is  dim. 


GEORGE  DARLEY 


^40. 


Sm£ 


•W' 


CWEET  in  her  green  dell  the  flower  of  beauty  alwmbert,' 
'^    Lull'd  by  the  faint  brecz«  Mghin;  through  her  ha; 
Sleeps  slie  and  hears  not  tlie  mcl.incboly  naraben 
Breathed  to  my  sad  lute  'mid  the  lonely  ur. 

Down  TroTn  the  high  cliffs  the  rinilct  is  teeming 
To  wind  round  the  willow  banks  tlitt  lure  biffl  Eron  1 

O  tliat  in  tears,  from  my  rocky  prisoa  sticanungi 
I  too  could  glitle  to  the  bower  of  ray  lore ! 

Ah  !  where  the  woodtunes  with  slcejiy  atms  hive  vamd  I 
Opes  she  her  eyelids  at  the  drtain  of  my  lay. 

Listening,  like  the  dove,  white  the  fountains  echo  rowtd  ^1 
To  her  lost  male's  call  in  the  forests  &r  away. 

Come  then,  my  bird  I    Por  the  peace  thoa  ever  b«R9^ 
Still  Heaven's  messenger  of  comfort  to  me — 

Come— this  fond  bosom,  O  faithfidlc«t  and  fairest, 
Bleeds  with  its  death-wound,  hs  wouod  of  to«C  for 


GEORGE  DARLEY 


tf^;.  To  Helene 

On  a  C'ifl-rmg  lartltntf  htl 

T  SENT  a  riag— a  tinlc  band 
^     Of  mutid  and  ruby  tune, 
And  bade  it,  ipwklaig  oa  thy  hud, 
Tell  iliM  sweet  uIm  of  one 
WboM  const2nt  mcnwry 
Vfa^  fill]  of  lovclioess,  and  the*. 

A  ahdl  vrn  graven  oo  itt  gold, — 

Twas  Cupid  fix'd  without  his  winj«— 
To  Heleoe  once  it  wovl<i  luw  told 
More  lh»a  vas  tva  told  by  ring): 
But  now  all'}  past  *nd  gooe, 
Her  lo*e  is  buried  witb  that  stone. 

Thog  ikak  not  sec  the  lean  that  start 

Prom  tyn  by  tliouglits  like  these  beguiled  i 
Tbov  shah  dm  know  tlitr  beating  htan, 
Eter  a  victim  and  a  child : 
Yet  Hefcoe,  love,  believe 
The  heart  that  nem  could  deceive. 


Ill  hrar  thy  vtace  of  melody 

In  the  sweet  whispers  of  the  aiit 
111  see  the  bn^tnoa  of  tiiinc  eye 
In  the  btne  cvemog's  dewy  star) 
In  crptal  Mreams  thy  jiurityi 
And  look  on  Heaven  to  look  on  the*. 


GEORGE  DARLGY 


rff?.  The  Fallen  St»T 

A   STAR  is  goDct   a  star  is  gone) 
'*■     There  U  a  Uaiil  in  HeaTrn  j 
One  of  the  chMob  choir  lus  done 
Hb  ai^  couM  ihii  mn. 

He  sat  upoo  the  oifc  of  fite 
Tlut  bung  i<x  ijd  there. 

And  lent  bin  miHk  to  the  choir 
That  haunts  the  nightly  air. 

But  whea  his  thousand  years  ate  jiasi'tl 

With  a  chenilHc  sigh 
He  vanii^'d  with  bis  or  ai  last, 

For  eiTD  cheruba  die  t 

Hear  how  his  angel-broilieri  mouia — 
The  miosods  of  the  spheres — 

Each  chiming  sadly  !b  his  tare 
And  droppong  s^eodid  tears. 

The  pUnctiiry  sisicn  all 

Join  in  the  fatal  song, 
And  wtqi  this  bapicM  bniiber's  fall, 

Who  tiaag  with  then  so  loo^. 

Out  deepest  of  the  chonl  band 

The  Lunar  Sprit  sings, 
And  with  >  bo&wccording  hood 

Sweeps  all  bcr  suUco  strings. 

Pram  the  deep  chambers  of  the  dome 
Where  sleepless  Uriel  lies, 

Hit  tttde  barmaoic  thunders  oome 
Mingled  with  mighty  sighs. 


GEORGE  UARLEY 


HARTLEY  COLERIDGE 


»«*-*• 


tTbc  thouMnd  cai-borne  chenibbn, 
The  waiylcring  detto, 
All  join  to  ch*iu  tbc  dirge  of  him 
Who  fill  juR  DOW  from  Hn*«a. 

643.  The  Solitaiy-Hearteti 

CHE  WIS  «  tfatrn  of  Dobfe  Natsrc's  crmraiDe, 
t^-'     A  amik  of  hers  wm  like  nn  act  of  gncv; 
She  had  mt  wiflMHiie  looks,  no  |«etty  ftowniog. 
Like  daily  brautW  of  the  vulgar  race: 
Uul  if  ahe  vniled,  a  light  tni  on  ber  face, 
A  clear,  cool  kindlinr^v  a  lour  beam 
Of  jicKcAtl  ndiiticc,  silvering  o'er  ih«  Hmn 
Of  hunaan  thought  with  uiabicliDg  glory; 
Not  quite  a  vrakiag  trtnh,  not  ^uitc  a  dmm, 
^^V  li&itatioa,  b(i{>ht  and  traasiiory. 

^^put  lie  t«  changed, — halb  felt  the  touch  of  lotrow, 
^pio  loTc  hath  she,  no  tinder^tatyling  friend; 

O  grief  I    when  MesTcn  is  forced  of  earth  to  borrow 
What  the  [oor  ni^ard  ortli  hu  not  to  IcikI  ; 
But  whcD  the  stalk  b  scajft,  the  ro»c  must  bend. 
The  talksc  Aower  that  tkynrd  rean  its  head 
Grows  from  the  coounoa  grouitd,  and  there  muu  iibcd 
lis  ilelicale  petak.     Cruel  fate,  too  suidj. 
That  they  should  &nd  so  base  a  bridal  bed, 
7ho  lived  in  mgin  pride,  m  swett  and  purely. 

had  a  brother,  and  a  teodcr  father, 
she  was  loved,  but  not  as  others  arc 

TO 


HARTLEY  COLERIDGE 

From  vhom  we  atk  mum  of  lore, — hm  nubcf 
As  one  might  lore  a  dreamt    >  pbomam  fair 
Of  «oiucihii^  exi]unattjj  sttaoge  jukI  ntv, 
Which  all  were  glad  to  look  oa,  mca  and  nuids, 
Yet  no  one  cljim'd— ■>  oft,  in  dewy  glitdes, 
Th«  peering  jxiniro^c,  like  »  sudden  gUdoess, 
Gleams  on  tli«  soul,  yet  uiuegardtd  fade9t~' 
The  joy  i^  oars,  but  aH  iu  own  the  ndnest. 

"Tis  v»in  10  My— her  wor^t  of  grief  is  only 
The  common  Im,  which  all  the  world  have  koowti 
To  her  'tis  oiorr,  bccauM  bn  liean  is  kxtety, 
And  yet  she  hath  no  strength  to  stand  alone,— 
Once  she  had  (daynuus,  fancier  of  her  own. 
And  she  did  lore  tbnn.     The/  are  put  away 
As  Fairies  miish  at  the  break  of  day} 
And  like  a  spectre  of  an  age  dqaited, 
Or  unsphered  Angel  wofiiUy  astray. 
Site  glides  along— the  Mliiary-hcarted. 


f^ 


Song 


CHE  is  not  fair  to  outward  Ttew 
^     As  many  maidens  be. 
Her  loTclincKf  I  never  knew 
Until  she  smiled  on  me; 
O,  then  I  sav  ber  eye  wm  bvight, 
A  well  of  Iov«,  a  spring  of  light  1 

But  now  her  looks  are  coy  aad  coh^ 
To  mine  they  nc'ei  reply, 
And  yet  I  cca-v;  not  to  behold 

The  loTe^ifht  in  her  eye: 
Her  \-«y  frowns  mt  tmnt  far 
Than  smites  of  othtt  maidcfts  are. 


m 


HARTLEY  COLERIDGE 

Early  Death 

CHE  {Ul>'d  iway  like  nuKniBg  dew 
^     {Jrfore  the  tun  w**  high; 
So  brief  bor  lunrt  sbr  fcjrccly  kiKw 
Thr  mtaaios  of  a  u^. 

As  round  the  ro<«  iu  soft  perfume, 
SweM  love  uound  l-.«r  floated ; 

Admind  site  {rew — while  omtul  dooto 
CnjK  on,  uafcar'd,  uanoted. 

Love  wu  ber  gnmlian  Angd  here. 
But  Lot*  to  Death  mign'd  bcr; 

Tho'  Love  «at  kiad,  why  Khoutd  we  (car 
But  boty  Death  u  kiadtr? 


I 
I 


FrienJsbip 

^/THEN  we  w«fc  Men  widi  the  loiteriiq  rilli, 
''       The  TKvi  of  huniAn  lo\'c  we  liule  noted: 
Our  tore  wnt  luituie;   uiA  tbc  feacc  ibit  floued 

On  tbc  while  mist,  utd  dwelt  upoo  the  hills 

To  fwcet  Accord  Mbdued  our  wsywud  wiDs: 
One  Mul  wu  ows,  oiw  mind,  one  bnn  deivied, 
That,  wisdy  dotiBg,  uk'd  ooi  why  it  doted. 

And  ours  the  unknown  joy,  which  knowing  killk 

But  now  I  iiad  bow  dear  thou  wert  to  nici 

Tbat  nun  is  moee  tlian  half  of  utnrc's  treaswe. 

Of  that  tat  beauty  which  no  eye  can  «ee, 
Of  tbxi  sweet  music  which  do  car  can  mcustc ; 
And  now  the  tixcaau  may  *ing  for  otbcn'  ptextute. 

The  hiUt  sleep  00  m  ibeir  cttisicj. 


THOMAS  HOOD 


647.  ^-.-,"«  ,^. 

T    SAW  old  Autumn  ui  the  mtHy  moro 
-^      Sund  sbudowlns  tikr  Sifrnce,  tiitemng 
To  silrace,  ibr  do  lonely  banl  would  sing 
Imo  Ius  bollow  car  fiofti  woodti  btloni, 
Nor  low! J-  licdge  nor  aolitaiy  tboni) — 
.Shakily  h!s  bngdd  lock*  ill  dewy  bt^i 
Willi  tsDgted  goumcT  thn  fell  by  ntgbt, 
Pmling  his  coroon  of  golden  corn. 

Where  are  the  Mcgs  of  Siminier  ? — With  tbr  «a, 

Oftng  the  dusky  eydkU  of  the  louth. 

Till  shade  nd  ulence  wakea  up  at  on^ 

And  MoratDg  *ii^  with  a  wum  odonws  omnsIu 

Wlicfe  are  the  mcity  birds  ?— Away,  avay. 

On  [OBting  wings  through  the  iixlcincM  jktcs, 

Lett  owl)  sbonid  |vey 

Undiizled  k  aoondiy. 
And  tear  with  boray  be^ik  their  lustroos  eyei. 

Where  v«  the  bloom*  of  Sgntroer^^In  the  ^kh, 
DUuUnf  tbeiT  bst  to  the  lost  sonay  honn, 
Wlioi  the  mild  Eve  by  sudden  Ki^  n  ftv» 
Like  learfiil  ProterpDe^  imcchM  from  hrr  Aow'n 

To  a  matt  gloomy  breaia. 
Whtfe  h  the  pride  of  Summer,— the  crecn  inime,- 
1'he  many,  maoy  Inret  all  twinkling '. — Thice 
Ofl  the  iBoss'd  dm ;   Hme  on  the  naked  kme 
TmnblinK,— aad  ow  vpon  the  old  oik-trce! 

Where  is  the  Dryad's  UBiBonality?— 
Gooe  into  mooroftil  cypRss  and  dark  yew. 
Of  wearing  the  long  gloomy  Winter  thtougjk 

In  the  smooth  holly'i  green  eternity. 


I 


THOMAS  HOOD 


Tbr  scitiirrri  gloau  oo  U>  iccompltth'il  bixtrd, 

I'bc  nnts  bavc  bnmm'd  lhc!r  gnmen  with  tij*  giiiui, 

And  boocy  bm  hare  stored 
The  nRVts  of  Sunuiwr  ia  ilietr  tuscious  celts ; 
The  swiUowft  all  hare  wio|tM  acrMn  (be  miia) 
Bui  bvre  ih«  Auumta  ni';luicfaoIy  dwell*, 

And  »ighf  her  tcatful  Kpelh 
Amoosn  the  sunless  tliadow*  of  tbe  ]<lain. 
Alom,  alone, 
Upon  a  no»y  stone, 
Sbe  ua  asd  reckoai  vp  the  dead  and  gone 
With  Uk  tan  learei  for  a  loie-n»ary, 
WbilH  all  the  wither'd  irorld  lot^s  drruiljr, 
t.ikc  a  dim  picture  of  the  drownid  jon 
la  the  hush'd  mind's  myierrioui  far  awiy, 
Doeblfiil  what  ghouly  thing  will  steal  the  lail 
Into  that  tliua&ce,  gray  upoD  tlie  gray. 

O  ga  and  sit  with  her,  and  be  o'erebaded 
Undo'  the  Ungnid  downfall  of  her  bait  i 
She  wean  a  coronal  of  6owcrs  fnilrd 
Upon  hei  forehead,  and  a  face  of  carr;— 
There  is  cno«sh  of  wwher'd  everywliere 
To  make  bn  bower, — and  eooi^h  of  f>l«omt 
There  is  enough  of  sadneii  to  in*itc. 
If  only  for  the  roK  that  died,  whow  doom 
Is  Beauty's, — she  that  vhh  the  litiog  bloom 
Of  conscious  dieeks  most  beautifies  the  light : 
Th««c  u  cno«igfa  of  sotrow^ng,  and  ^uke 
EiMugb  of  bttter  (niits  the  nrth  doch  bear, — 
Enongb  nf  dully  drotvpings  for  her  bowl ; 
Enough  of  fear  and  shadowy  despair. 
To  fnmr  her  doody  fiiaaa  for  the  soul ! 


Whidi  hath  been  DtiM, 

No  *otce  is  faoah'd- 

But  doucU  Bod  cloudy  i 

That  ncTcr  spoke,  over  d* 

But  in  green  ruins,  in  the 

Of  aQticjue  palaces,  who 

Though  the  dun  fox  or  w 

And  owls,  thst  flic  com 

Shriek  to  the  echo,  and  tl 

There  the  true  Sileoce  is, 


If4?.  Z>C 

TT  is  not  doth,  that  soi 
^  This  eloquent  breath  ■■ 
That  soinetime  these  biigb 

Id  sunlight  to  the  sun, 

That  this  warm  consdo 
And  all  life's  ruddy  spiinf 

That  thoughts  shall  cea 
Be  lapp'd  b  alien  day  am 
It  is  oot  death  to  know  t 

That  {Hous  thoughts,  w 
In  tender  {nlgrimage,  will 

So  duly  and  so  oft — at: 


',4.,,,.. 


•  ^^o 


THOMAS  HOOD 


^fO.  Fair  Ines 

OSAW  yc  DM  fair  laa} 
She's  goM  into  the  W«tt, 
To  duzle  when  the  ma  i»  down, 

And  rob  ihe  mtrld  of  rett ; 
Sbe  look  OBr  dtytight  witb  ber, 
Tbe  iniilcs  that  we  love  beu. 
With  Rwniing  bhiKbes  on  her  cherk. 
And  pearia  upon  her  breast. 

0  turn  Dgaiiit  fair  Ion, 
Before  the  fall  of  Difbt, 

For  Cetf  the  Moon  ibould  sbinc  alooe, 
And  itani  DDritall'd  bright; 

And  bte^scd  will  tlie  lover  be 
Thai  walks  beneath  their  light. 

And  bmtbn  the  toie  agtinst  iby  check 
I  dare  not  cvcd  write  I 

Would  I  had  been,  fair  Ine«, 

That  gallant  caralier, 
Who  rode  »o  gaily  by  thy  tide. 

And  wlu^pcr'd  thee  m  acar! 
pWcre  there  DO  boooy  dame*  at  bontCf 

Or  no  tive  loi'crs  bere, 
That  be  should  aoss  ih«  was  to  vio 

Tbe  dctftst  of  the  deatf 

1  uw  thee,  lovely  Iocs, 
Descend  along  the  thore, 

[With  boods  of  aobtr  geeOemea, 
And  banoers  wared  before; 


THOMAS  HOOD 

And  {■eotle  youth  and  miidna  gay, 
And  inowy  plumes  tliey  wore: 

It  would  hart  been  ■  bnateous  dmm,- 
If  it  had  t)cm  no  more! 

Alai,  ala*  !    fair  lc«*, 

•She  went  away  with  song, 
\^'iih  Music  waiting  on  her  step*) 

And  ihoutings  of  ibc  throog  t 
But  some  were  ud.  Bad  fck  no  minh, 

But  only  Music's  wrong. 
In  louixU  that  tia^  FanwcU,  farcwdl, 

To  her  you've  loved  so  long. 

raiewell,  faivwell,  fjar  Incsl 

That  ves»e!  ncTcr  bore 
So  fair  ■  lad)-  on  Ua  deck. 

Nor  dinccd  m  light  before,-^ 
Alas  for  plfamre  on  ibc  sea, 

And  sorrow  on  the  shore  ! 
Tbe  smie  that  bless'd  one  loier**  bcui 

Has  broken  many  morel 


S^i.  Time  of  Hoses 

IT  was  not  in  the  Winter 
^     Ota  toting  lot  was  caU| 
It  was  the  time  of  toscs — 

We  |JuckM  tbem  as  we  poss'd  I 

That  cbnrlish  eeawn  nercT  frowo'd 

On  early  lovers  yet: 
O  no — tbe  wotld  wns  newly  crowD'd 

With  flowers  wbra  first  we  met  I 


THOMAS  liOOD 

Twu  twUigbt,  wkI  1  bode  yon  jfi, 
Bat  «ai  ]PM  btU  IM  fa«; 

Ii  was  ilic  time  of  n»e> — 

W«  {ilack'J  tlinn  u  wt  p«»\l  I 


CHE  stood  brTMt-hi£b  amid  the  com, 
'^     Cbsp'd  by  the  jtoldcn  li];ht  of  mara, 
Like  the  sweetbon  of  the  nio, 
Wlio  many  ■  Rowing  kii*  haii  won. 

On  her  dwck  m  auiumm  Hu&h, 
Deeply  npcn'lJi— such  *  bluuli 
In  the  midu  of  biown  wu  bom, 
LiIm  red  pop]>ii.-s  gromi  villi  com. 

Roaod  her  eyes  her  tmsra  fell. 
Which  trare  bLckett  none  could  idl. 
But  topg  bsbe»  ««il'd  «  light, 
Thu  bad  d*e  been  all  too  brij^t. 

Aad  bet  hit,  wrtli  shady  bnm, 
Made  her  titssy  Jbtcbead  dim ; 
■Thus  she  lAood  amid  the  iiooki, 
Pnaing  God  with  swevtcR  looks  i — 

S«n,  I  Bid,  Hmt'd  did  not  mtaa. 
Where  1  teqi  tbo«  sfaeddst  bu  gleao, 
'  Lay  thy  sheaf  adou-n  and  come, 
Share  my  hvrest  and  my  booic. 


fS3- 


THOMAS  HOOD 


Tie  "Death-heJ 


^ATB  wsuh'd  her  bmrthiog  ibro'  the 

Hn  brmttuoj;  soft  and  Imr, 
As  in  li«r  brCMt  the  wstc  of  life 
Kept  heaving  to  and  Tro. 

So  lilcotly  wc  smni'd  to  sfcak. 

So  slowly  morrd  about, 
As  we  hod  lent  \xt  half  our  power* 

To  eke  bet  Uviaj  out. 

Our  very  hopes  belied  our  fcwrs, 
Our  fms  our  hopw  belied — 

We  (Bought  her  dying  when  she  aleps, 
And  deeping  wtoi  ibe  died. 

For  when  the  morti  ounc  dim  ind  m^ 
Aod  chill  with  early  lowers, 

Hn  quiet  eyelids  closed — she  bad 
Another  mom  tltaa  ours. 


tf/4.  The  Bridge  of  Si^t 

ONE  more  Unfortunate, 
Weuy  oX  breath, 
Rashly  importunate, 
Gone  to  her  death  I 

Take  her  up  leadoly, 
Lift  hcf  with  caret 

Faihion'd  »  sleadaly 
Young,  vni  w  fsir ' 


THOMAS  HOOD 


Look  «t  her  gtmiema 
CGngiBg  like  ceruneatsi 
Whtlil  the  w*ve  cunMantly 

Drips  from  her  dothing) 
Take  ha  np  inalaiitljr, 

Lonng,  DQt  Uathiag. 

Touch  ber  DM  KomAill/i 
Tbiok  of  her  mourofiilly, 

Gentler  ind  hmnanty; 
Not  of  the  tabu  of  bcr, 
All  tlut  rtmaiM  of  her 

Now  is  pure  womanly. 

Make  no  deep  KniDoy 
Into  her  mutiny 

Rs'^h  uti  uodutifJ : 
Pail  all  diiihanour, 
Death  hu  left  00  bet 

Only  ihc  bnuuful. 

StUI,  for  ill  tlipt  of  ben, 
One  of  Etc**  family- 
Wipe  thcM  poor  lip*  of  htn 
Oozing  (o  clammily. 

Loop  Bp  ber  tmses 

Escaped  Irom  the  coai>, 
Her  (air  aubum  treiaes  j 
WhiUt  wondennest  gucwe* 
Where  ym  her  hone? 

Who  wu  ber  Mieri 
Wha  was  ber  motherl 


19 


THOMAS  HOOD 

Had  she  a  sister? 

Had  she  a  brother? 
Or  was  there  a  dearer  one 
Still,  and  a  nearer  otK 

Yet,  than  all  other  f 

Alas '.    for  the  raiity 
Of  Christian  charity 

Under  the  sun ! 
O,  it  was  pitiful ! 
Near  3  whole  city  fiill. 

Home  she  had  tioiir. 

Sisieriy,  brotherly, 
Fatherly,   motherly 

Feelings  had  changed : 
Love,  by  harsh  evidence. 
Thrown  from  its  emiocncei 
liven  God's  providence 

Seeming  estranged. 


THOMAS  HOOD 

M»d  from  life's  hhutj. 
Glad  to  death's  mjaterj, 

Swift  to  be  htnl'd — 
Anywbere,  taywhtit 

Out  »f  the  wofid  1 

In  she  plunged  botdly— 
Na  matier  bow  eoldl/ 

The  nwgh  Krer  tan— 
Oiet  the  brink  of  it. 
Picture  it—  think  of  it, 

Di«»o}uic  Ntan ! 
Lite  in  it,  dtink  of  it, 

Tben,  if  jm  can  I 

Tske  her  cp  trndcfly, 
Lift  bcr  with  cure; 

FMhion*d  so  slendctty, 
Yoong,  aad  so  bir  I 

Ere  ber  Isnibi  fri^jdljr 
Stiffen  too  rigidly^ 

Decently,  kindly. 
Smooth  and  compo«e  ibem) 
Aad  her  e)-ef,  close  ibem, 

SuriRg  »  blindly  I 

Dreadfully  itariag 

Thro'  muddy  tmp':!!!^. 
As  when  with  the  daring 
Last  look  of  despairing 

Fix'd  on  futurity. 

Perishing  gloomily, 
SpRr'd  by  contumely, 


THOMAS  HOOD 

Cold  tnhumiiaitjr, 
Borntng  inMniijr, 

Into  bcr  ntt, — 
CroM  her  tuach  bantbly 
As  if  fny'iOR  rfuinUy, 

Over  bcr  brexu  I 

Ownii^  btrr  wcakimi^ 
Her  cviJ  bvhivioiir. 

And  Icaviqg,  with  mrekMS^ 
Her  nn  lo  her  Ssnow! 


an- 


WILLIAM  THOM 
r&e  Blind  Iky's  Tra»ks 


K^FvN  grew  sac  cnild,  maids  uc  unkind, 
'■"^     Love  kcfttiu  whwr  to  tuy: 
Wi'  (irnt  an  nrrow,  bow,  or  urtng — 
Wi"  droopin'  hon  »o'  drizzled  wiag. 
He  fught  his  loiiety  way. 

'Ik  (here  oae  nuir  in  Guioch  lair 

Ac  spotlcu  hame  for  me? 
H«e  polMct  u*  com  an'  kyc 
Ilk  bosom  suppii?     Fi«,  O  Act 

I'll  swithc  mc  o'er  ihe  si-a." 

He  launch'd  a  leaf  o'  jnumioe, 
Ob  wbitk  he  tUur'd  to  swim, 
An'  jiitiow'd  hit  head  on  a  wtv  rowbwd. 
Syne  hithfu',  lanely,  Love  'pm  Mod 
Down  Ury*»  waefii*  iimm. 

tSS-  Watna)  knew  oot.  wf  ficot  tn  aiTOw]  L  q.  wilh  < 

•now.  »«ithe}  hie  ^Iclcly.  laitbfbl  regrcthd. 


IT»»->»1' 


WILLIAM  THOM 

btrdi  Mflg  bonnw  »  Lot«  divw  nor, 

Bat  dowie  when  he  fuii  byi 
Till  lull'd  wi'  the  iou{h  o'  manic  a  wng, 
He  iltCfit  fii'  lonn'  and  «aii'd  aling 

'Neath  Hnven's  gowden  ikf. 

TwM  jua  wK»r  creeping  Ury  gmts 

Itt  mouMam  connn  Don, 
There  wHidet'd  forth  a  weelfiur'd  dame, 
lWiu  lisilru  gazed  on  the  bonoie  stream, 
I  A*  it  flincd  an'  plaj'd  with  a  suiiDy  beain 
That  flickcr'd  iu  boKHn  upoo. 

[Lore  hafipit  ha  bead,  I  tmw,  that  tune 
The  jcMamioe  hark  drew  oigh, 
The  lasne  npied  the  wee  rosebud) 
aye  her  heart  gae  iImk)  for  thud. 
An'  (jnirt  it  wadna  lie. 

'  O  gin  I  but  hid  yon  wearie  w(«  flower 

That  Rtats  on  the  Ury  sue  fair ! ' — 
I  She  looiit  her  hand  for  the  silJy  ras«-leaf, 
I  But  litde  wist  &he  o'  the  pawkie  tliief 

That  wu  liukin'  m'  biq>hin'  there ! 

I  Love  glower'd  when  he  hw  her  bonnic  dark  e'e, 

An'  swore  by  Mearen's  grace 
He  ne'er  had  aren  aw  thought  to  tee, 
Kbcc  c'cT  he  left  Ute  Pajihian  lea, 
H       Sae  lovely  ■  dwallia'<flacr, 

dttwitl  dejededly.      wecl^t'd]  wtIl-&*oiitHl,  eemely.      happit] 
Mred  »p.       loMH]  towered.        pawhie]  117.        |l«<r«r'd]  Hand. 


WILLfAM  THOM 

Syne  fim  of  a'  to  her  blythntotnc  bretst 

He  built  a  bower,  I  ween] 
Aa'  what  did  the  waefa'  dcviliclc  orist  { 
But  kindled  a  gieaoi  like  the  loiy  eaai, 

That  ipukled  Fne  baitb  her  e'en. 

An'  Oicn  licnnth  tlk  high  c'c-bree 

He  placwl  a  quiver  there  j 
His  bow?   VfhxX  but  lier  iliinin'  brow} 
Ad'  O  bc  deadly  strinpt  be  drew 

Fnie  out  her  lilkcn  bairl 

Cuid  be  our  gntrdl     Kc  deeds  waur  dta 

Roun*  a*  our  countric  then  t 
Ad'  monie  ■  han^n*  liq  was  am 
'MiDg  firmere  fiit,  an'  bwyers  leao^ 

An'  herds  o'  common  men ! 


rf/tf. 


SIR  HENRV  TAYLOR 
£  Zona's  Song 


QUOTH  tongoe  of  odiber  nuid  nor  wifc 
To  hfift  of  nriibcr  wife  n«  maid— 
I^ad  we  not  here  a  }olly  \iJt 
Beiwixt  Uvc  thiac  ami  ahadc? 

Quoth  heart  of  neither  maid  nor  wife 
To  tongue  of  neither  wife  dot  nuid— 

Tliou  wsgg'si,  but  I  am  wom  with  strife, 
And  feel  like  flowvrs  that  fade. 

ifS.  e'c-tnetl  ejrebraw.  lofjew. 

7*4 


I 


fe 


THOMAS  OADINGTON  MACAULAY, 
LORD  MACAULAY 

S7.  j1  Jacobite's  Epitaph 

iaa»-il« 

"T^O  my  true  Ung  I  ol&r'd  frve  ftom  suio 

Coungc  vkI  faith ;    laia  faith,  aad  courage  vain. 
For  hnn  I  threw  laods,  honours,  wealth,  iirajr, 
And  ooe  dnr  hope,  thai  wm  more  prized  thui  thry. 
For  him  I  bnguish'd  id  a  lareign  dime, 
Graj'-hair'd  with  Hrraw  in  my  manbood's  prime  { 
Heard  on  Lavemia  Scargill't  whispering  irtts, 
And  [daed  by  Amo  for  my  lotelier  Tm; 
Bdield  cKh  nighi  my  home  in  fcTcr'd  steeps 
Each  morning  sutrtcd  froni  the  dream  to  weqi; 
Till  Cod,  who  WW  me  tried  too  sorely,  ganc 
Tbe  roting-pUce  I  ask'd,  aa  early  grave. 
O  thou,  whom  chance  leads  to  this  nameless  stone, 
From  that  proud  country  which  wai  once  niiac  own, 
By  tliOH'  white  cHlTi  I  Qetcr  more  muit  see. 
By  diU  dear  language  which  I   npakc  like  tbee, 
Forget  all  feuds,  and  shed  one  Englith  tear 
O'er  English  duii.     A  broken  hestn  tics  here. 


WILLIAM  DARNES 


Mater  7)slorosa 

I'D  a  dream  to-niglit 
As  I  Ml  asleep, 
O!    (he  touching  sight 
Makes  luc  still  to  w«c|i ; 


law-ttu 


WILLIAM  BARNES 

Of  my  )iuk  bd, 
CoDc  to  lave  me  nd, 
Ay,  the  diilil  I  h»d, 
Bat  was  not  to  keep. 

As  in  lieaTcn  iii^b, 
1  my  cliilii  did  ficck. 

There  in  inun  aiae  by 
CItitdicn  fair  and  meek, 

Fach  in  Uly  white, 

With  a  lamp  alight ; 

Each  wa«  dear  to  sight. 
But  tLcy  did  not  tpcak. 

Then,  a  tittle  ud, 

C;imF  my  child  in  t&mi 
But  the  lamp  he  hid, 

O  it  did  Dot  bum  I 
He,  to  clear  my  doubt, 
Slid,  hair  tun'd  about, 
'Your  tears  put  it  out; 

Muther,  cerer  ntovm,* 


asp.  The  Wife  a-lost 

CINCE  1  Doo  mworc  do  zee  yow  ftSot 
•^     Uji  steSrs  ot  down  below, 
I'll  zii  me  ia  tlic  Iwonesome  pldcc, 

Where  fiat-bough'd  beech  do  grow} 
Below  the  beeches'  bough,  my  love, 

Where  you  did  never  come, 
An'  I  don't  look  to  meet  ye  now, 

As  1  do  look  at  fawomt^ 

1S6 


WILUAM  BARN 

Since  you  aoo  mwocc  be  u  nj  tide. 

In  walks  in  wntran  hci, 
I'n  tfto  alwOK  wbcrc  mist  do  Hdr, 

Droo  titrt  M-dtiyfia  irMi 
IMow  the  nln-wet  bough,  my  lov^ 

Where  ywi  dkl  neTer  come, 
An'  I  don't  grieie  to  mini  ye  now. 

As  I  do  gricTc  >t  hwonx. 
Since  DOW  bezide  my  dinner-bwoud 

Yoor  Talcc  do  ncicr  Mxtod, 
111  ent  ibe  bit  I  G«n  arwont 

A-iteld  upon  the  f;round| 
Deknr  tbe  dukwnM  bough,  my  love, 

Wliere  you  did  ncter  dine. 
Ad'  I  don't  grieve  to  miis  )-c  now, 

As  1  M  hwome  do  ]itne. 

Since  I  do  miu  your  nttt  an'  fdlce 

In  fn'yti  n  cvcotkle, 
I'll  pray  wi'  woone  sad  tatcc  *oi  grrice 

To  goo  wbcie  you  do  bide; 
Above  the  urt  ta'  bough,  my  tofc, 

Wlicie  yon  be  goat  arore, 
An'  be  a-watlte  tot  me  now, 

To  cotne  roc  cvennwore. 


WINTHROP  MACKWORTH  PRAED 

rftfo.  Faity  Song 

\  E  has  cotio'd  the  leswa  now  t 
He  has  read  the  bode  of  pin: 


H' 


iao»-iS)$ 


aie  ftitraws  on  his  braw; 
I  mM  oukr  ii  tmooib  again. 


WINTHROP  MACKWORTH  PRAED 

Lo  I    I  koock  the  tpnn  awiy  i 
Lo  I    I  loosen  bch  ud  brand  \ 

Huk !    I  itm  tl>c  eoasa  neigU 
For  ba  Mill  in  Faiiy-laitd. 

Bring  the  op,  and  bniij;  the  Tnt) 
Buckle  on  hit  undal  jhooni 

Fetch  his  fiicinory  from  the  cbnt 
Id  tlx  tlctsury  of  ll)C  mooa. 

I  hm  taught  him  to  be  wiao 
For  a  tiltlc  RiBidrn's  sake;— 

Lol  he  o|>cns  his  gUd  ryes, 
Softly,  slowly:    MiaMrel,  wake! 


SARA  COLERIDGE 
tfrfl,  O  ileep,  mj>  Babe 

O  SLEEP,  my  babe,  hear  not  tlie  rippliqg  wk. 
Nor  feel  the  bceexe  that  round  thcc  lipg'rial  *U>P 
To  drink  thy  balmy  breath, 
And  nigh  one  long  brcwell. 

Soon  alull  it  mourn  aboirc  thy  wat'ty  bed. 
And  whi»p<.T  to  me,  on  the  ware-beat  shor^ 

Deep  mumi'ring  tn  reproadi, 

Tliy  lud  untiniety  fate. 

Ere  thoM;  dciir  eyes  )iad  opcn'd  on  the  light, 
In  vain  to  plead,  thy  cocntng  life  was  soM, 

O  waken'd  but  to  kleqi, 

Whence  it  can  vake  do  moral 


SARA  COLERIDGE 

tbuwund  «ad  i  ihoMasd  silken  luvn 
Tba  nftnl  baxh  unfoUs  in  tarly  sfrii^ 
AO  cbd  in  uodemt  ptea, 
All  of  the  Mlf-umc  ihipc  i 

[  A  thouund  lahnt  faccf,  soft  and  swMt, 
Eicb  ^r  tmdt  (ofih,  jn  cTcry  moihcr  vtrws 
Her  bu  aot  lra«  bdcnvd 
Lilcr  In  dear  self  alone. 

No  rounng  mind  luub  ever  jret  ratnhtiiKl 
The  bee  tomMtrow'i  iwi  ■hall  fmt  rercal. 
No  hcsin  bMli  c'rf  coocdtvd 
What  love  lliat  £kc  vrtU  bring. 

O  !>lcc|>,  ray  twbc,  nor  heed  how  movrns  the  {*l« 
To  fan  with  thy  mA  locks  and  fngnat  bmth, 

A*  when  it  deeply  light 

O'et  aBtumn'i  Utnt  bloom. 


r^j. 


Tlx  Child 


CEE  yon  blithe  child  thai  dances  b  our  Bj^litl 
^     Can  gloomy  shadows  &I1  from  ooe  to  bright! 

Food  mother,  whmce  theie  lean? 
Wliile  bui>]-antly  he  m.-ibcK  o'er  i^c  bwn. 
Dream  not  of  dowb  to  tuin  his  nunbood's  djwB, 

Nor  diai  that  sight  with  leirv. 

No  doud  be  Sfees  in  brightly  clowiog  hours, 
But  ticel*  as  if  the  oewly  *ested  bowct» 

For  him  could  never  fadei 
Too  wHl  wc  know  that  teinil  plcuum  fleet, 
B«  hating  him,  m>  gladtorar,  fair,  and  sweet, 

Ouf  lou  is  overpaid, 

cc  Ml 


HHI^^^^I 

SARA  COLERIDGE 

d 

Amiij 

ihc  balmiest  Sowers  that  c^nh   cui 

gi*^     ■ 

Som?  bitter  drops  disti],   dod  all   that   live 

■ 

A  mingled   jwrtion  shan; ; 

1 

But, 

while  he  learos  these  truths  which  we  lamtiL 

Such 

fortitude  as  ours  will  sure  \x  sent. 
Such  aolace  to  his  care. 

GERALD  GRIFFIN 

1 

663, 

Eileen  Aroon 

W/"HEN  like  the  early  row. 
*•                   Eileen  Aroon : 

tlocAi 

Beauty  in  childhood  blows, 

Eileen  Axooa  I 

When,  like  a  diadem, 

Bud&  blush  around  the  stem, 

Which  is  the  fairest  gem : — 

Eileen  Aroon  1 

GERALD  GRIFFIN 

Wbx  nakn  hb  dnRnDg  glow, 
ChftDgdew  ihroagh  joy  or  woe? 
Only  tlw  eoDsunt  know: — 
Eileen  Arooal 

I  know  8  Tallry  fair, 

Eilcra  Aroonl 
I  katm  t  cotuce  tittt, 

EilKti  Arooal 
Vu  in  ihit  nlley'a  shade 
1  kntw  a  gntle  maid, 
Ft<**rT  of  a  haxe!  jbdc,— 

Eileen  Aroool 

Who  is  ihe  song  m  iwect? 

Eitcm  Arooa  I 
Wbo  ia  ibt  iatux  to  B«et  f 

Eileen  Aroonl 
Dtv  were  ber  chmns  lo  me, 
Dnrcr  her  lughter  free, 
Draitst  her  comuiicj, — 

Eileen  Arooo! 

Were  «be  no  lon^  tnie, 

Eileen  Arooal 

WhM  iboM  h»  lover  do  > 
Eilmi  Arooal 

Fly  wth  hti  broken  chain 

Far  o'er  the  twunding  iwun, 

Never  lo  lore  tg^a, — 

Eileen  Aioonl 

Youth  nxui  with  time  decay, 
Eileen  Aroonl 


GERALD  GRIFFIN 

fiesuty  must  fide  awiy, 

[-lilcuD  AroonI 
Castks  arc  saclc'd  ia  war, 
Chkftdiu  ate  touer*!!  (m, 
Tnilb  is  a  fix(d  star, — 

Eik«fi  Anon  I 


JAMES  CLARENCE  >tANGAN 


tfrf^. 


2)ari  Jtosalettt 


OMY  Di/k  Rosalwn. 
Do  nut  sifb,  do  not  weep! 
The  firiots  art  oa  the  ocun  gre^n. 

They  march  along  the  Attf. 
There'*  wine  front  the  royal  Pope, 

Upon  the  ocean  grceo ; 
And  Spantiti  ile  thall  ^vc  you  hope. 

My  Dark  RouIkti  ! 

My  owa  Roulccnl 
fit'jll  glad  your  bean,  iball  ^rc  yon  hope, 
Shall  giie  you  health,  and  help,  and  hopc^ 

My  Daik  Rosakcn! 

Over  hills,  and  thro'  dales, 

Hare  I  roam'd  for  your  lake ; 
All  yesterday  I  sail'd  wiih  silx 

On  liter  and  on  lake. 
The  Eme,  at  its  highest  flood, 

I  duii'd  actofs  unseen, 
For  theic  wa§  lighming  in  my  blood, 

My  Dark  Rosalecal 


JAMES  CLARENCE  MANCAN 

My  owa  Roulmal 
O,  there  mt  lijibuung  in  my  blood, 
R«d  lightmng  lightcn'd  thro'  my  blood, 

My  l>Jik  Kom1««oI 

All  day  long,  in  unrest. 

To  aad  fro,  do  I  mofc. 
Tbc  my  muI  wiibin  my  breiat 

la  wasted  for  you,  lovel 
The  hnn  in  my  boMia  fiuDis 

To  tbinic  of  you,  my  Qwcti, 
My  life  of  life,  my  mim  of  miou, 

My  Datk  Roulccn  1 

My  Ota  Rouleea! 
To  bear  )-oui  tweet  and  ud  compUott, 
Mj  life,  my  love,  my  «inc  of  nin», 

My  Dark    Rouleen  • 

Woe  ind  pain,  pain  and  woe. 

Are  my  lot,  nighi  and  noon. 
To  Kc  yoiai  bright  fjce  clotxkd  My 

Like  to  tbc  mounifd  mooii. 
But  yet  vill  I  rear  your  ihrotie 

Again  in  golden  ihceo ; 
Tis  you  shall  reign,  flhall  rdgo  alone. 

My  Dark  Rouleen! 

My  own  Roulccn ! 
Tix  yon  »hall  h«?c  the  goUea  thrown 
Til  yoa  (ball  reign,  aad  mgp  alooc, 

My  Dwk  Rosalceol 

Ont  dcv%  orer  samb, 

Will  I  fly,  for  your  weal  i 
Your  boly  ddicate  while  hand* 

Shall  girdle  m«  witb  Med. 


JAMES  CLARENCE  MANGAN 


Ac  home,   m  your  emerald  boweis. 

From  morning's  dawn  till  e'en. 
You'll  pray  for  me,  my  flower  of  flowen, 

My  Dark  Rosaleen ! 

My   fond   Rosilecn ! 
You'll   think  of  nic  through  daylight  houn. 
My  virgin  flower,   my  flower  of  flowers, 

My  Dark   Rosaleen  ! 

I  could  scale  the  blue  air, 

I  could  plough  the  high  hills, 
O,   I  could   knee!  all   night  in  prayer, 

To  heal  your  many  ills  ! 
And  one  beamy  smile  from  you 

Would  float  like  light  between 
My  toils  and  me,   my  own,  my  trtie. 

My  Dark   Rosaleen ! 

My  fond  Rosaleen  I 
Would  give  me  life  and  soul  kkv, 
A  second  life,   a  soul  anew, 


JAMES  CLARENCE  MANGAN 

The  Nameless  One 

ROLL  forth,  my  song,  like  Um;  nuhing  riter, 
That  iwoqw  along  to  the  mighty  tat ; 
God  will  imjdre  me  while  I  dclirn 
My  Mul  of  thee  I 

j      Tell  thou  the  worttl,  when  my  bows  lie  whitening 

Amid  the  loM  homes  of  youth  kod  dd, 
^—'i'bat  ooce  there  ivm  one  whose  reins  nn  U^uaing 
■  No  ey«  behcM. 

Tell  how  hi*  boyhood  wai  one  drear  night-hour, 
I  How  shone  fur  him,  through  hb  giicfs  aad  clocm, 

i      Nu  stAr  of  til  beaten  Sends  to  light  oui 
^K  Palli  to  the  tomb. 

^^loll  on,  my  songi  and  to  after  aget 

Tdl  bow,  (fitdaining  all  earth  can  gire, 
I      He  wiMiid  btrc  tangbt  men,  from  wi«(iom's  pign. 
The  way  to  Utt. 

And  tell  bow  trwDpkd,  derided,  hated. 

And  worn  by  weakness  dbcase,  and  wtone, 
:e  fted  for  shelter  ti>  God,  who  mated 
His  soul  with  song' 

— \Vtth  tong  which  ilwiy,  ndiGroe  or  tapid, 

Flow'd  like  I  rill  in  die  morning  beam. 
Perehanoe  OM  deep,  but  btrnsc  and  rvpA — 
A  moufitain  stream. 

Tet)  how  thh  Nameless,  coadentn'd  for  years  lon){ 
To  had  widi  demons  from  bell  bcneatii, 
tw  things  that  made  him,  with  groans  and  tear*,  Icng 
For  eren  deoifa. 

« 


¥ 


JAMES  CLAAENCE  MANGAN 

Go  on  to  [fll  how,  with  genius  wasted, 

Beiray'd  b  friendship,  bcfooi'd  ia  lore, 
With  spirit  sbipwieck'd,  and  young  hopes  UaMcd. 
He  still,   still  stravet 

Till,  spent  with  toil,  dreeing  death  for  others 

(And  some  whose  hands  should  have  wrougbl  for  ha. 
If  cbildrea  live  not  for  sires  and  motbere), 
His  mbd  grew  dim ; 

And  he  fell  far  through  that  pit  abysmal. 

The  gulf  and  graye  of  Maginn  and   Bums, 
And  pawa'd  his  soiJ  for  the  dc»il's  dii^mal 
Stock  of  returns. 

fiuL  yet  tedceni'd  it  in  days  of  darkness. 

And  shapes  acid  signs  of  the  linal   wrath. 
When  death,  in  hideous  and  ghastly  starknus, 
Stood  on  his  path. 

And  tell  how  now,  anild  wieck  and  sorrow. 


THOMAS  LOVELL  BEDD0E3 

TF  thou  wUt  (SK  thioe  heaxx, 
^     or  lov«  10(1  all  iu  siain, 

Tbeo  Jilorp,  dur,  ilrcpi 
And  not  >  wwiow 

Hasg  any  Unr  on  your  cyclistiea; 

Lie  nill  2nd  <loq>, 
Sad  toul,  until  Ui«  M-4-wate  msbca 
The  tint  o*  Uie  sun  to-ino4:ow, 
In  castcni  sky. 

Bui  vrilt  tltau  ewe  tluoe  heart 
or  \tm  aad  all  iu  Kmut, 

Tim  die,  dear,  die; 
Tis  deeper,  sweeter, 

Tliao  on  a  rose-bank  to  lie  dnsnuiq 

Wah  folded  rye; 
Aod  there  alone,  amid  the  beaming 
Of  Love's  stars,  thou'lt  meet  licr 
In  tastcm  sliy. 


>•(»-•**« 


2>ream-TeMaty 

IP  there  were  dreams  to  sell, 
What  wodd  you  boy  ? 
Some  ooK  a  paming  bell; 

Some  t  light  tigb, 
That  sfaakcs  from  Life's  fresh  crown 
Oaly  a  rose-leaf  down. 

CO  ff7 


THOMAS  L.OVELL  BEDDOES 

If  there  were  dreams  lo  sell. 

Merry  and  sad  lo  leU, 
And   the  crier  nng  the  bell. 
What  would  you  buy! 

A  cottage  lone  and   still, 

With  bowers  nigh, 
Shadowy,  my  woes  lo  stiH, 

Until  I  die. 
Such  pear!  from  Life's  frtsb  crown 
Fain  would  I  shake  me   down. 
Were  dreams  to  have  at  will, 
This  would  best  bea!  my  ill, 

This  would  I  buy. 


668.  So»^ 

1_[  OW  many  times  do  I  lore  thee.  dcM  I 
Tell  me  how  many  thoughts  there  be 


RALPH  WALDO  I-MERSON 


6p,  Gh/e  yjU  to  Ltvc 

GIVE  ill  to  lovF) 
Obey  thj  hcwt) 
FiicDda,  kiDdrcd,  d*ys, 
Esiau,  good  fiine, 
Plaos,  credit,  and  the  Muac— 
Notfaiog  nfvte. 

*T!s  ■  bmrc  iBMicr; 
Let  It  hiTo  Kopc: 
Follow  it  utterly, 
Hope  beyond  hojwt 
Hi^  ■nd  moie  bi^ 
It  divM  into  noon, 
Wnh  wing  tinspentf 
Untold  intent; 
But  it  is  a  god, 
Koaws  its  own  pub, 
And  ihc  outlns  of  the  Ay. 

It  was  De*«T  for  the  muat 
It  itqwreth  coutage  itotit, 
Souls  above  doobt, 
Valonr  unbendiog: 
Such  'twill  rewatd;— 
They  ihall  return 
More  thin  tbey  wtxt. 
And  ever  ttcctxliRg. 

Lca>«  all  for  Iotc  i 

Yet,  bear  tar,  yet, 

One  void  more  thy  heart  beboted, 

One  inbe  more  of  £im  endeavour — 


Itmt-Mt 


]*• 


RALPH  WALDO  EMERSON 

Keep  ihee  to-dny, 
To-moriow,   for  ever, 
Free  as  an  Arab 
Of  thy  beloved. 

Cling  with  life  to  the  maid; 

But  when  the  surprise, 

First  vague  shadow  of  sunnisr. 

Flits  across  her  bosom  youn^. 

Of  a  joy  :ipart  from  tfiec, 

Free  be  she,   fnacy-freei 

Nor  thou  detain  her  vcstuir's  hem, 

Nor  the  palest  rose  she  flung 

From  her  summer  diadem. 

Though  thou  loved  her  as  thyself. 

As  a  self  of  purer  clay ; 
Though  her  parting  dims  the  day, 
Stealiag  grace  from  all  alive ; 
Heartily  know, 
When  half-Rods  £0 


RALPH  WALDO  EMERSON 


Uw  IKUOB,   too  long  JlRUl, 

Us  em  wu  evident, 
youns  dotia  dscaw'd 
Laws  of  (omt,  ood  mttn  jut. 
Orb,  quiiitnsence,  and  sunbcaina. 
What  MbstMeth,  tod  what  scctns. 
One,  with  low  toors  that  dtcidc, 
And  doubt  aad  reverend  ose  defied, 
With  a  look  that  solved  tbe  spbeic, 
Aod  ftirr'd  ifac  dcvitit  evctywhere, 
Gave  bis  Mntimeat  divioe 
Agiiiut  the  being  of  a  lane. 
'  Lioe  in  aMsic  n  oot  fouad) 
Unit  and  nivcne  are  round  i 
In  vain  prodootd,  all  njrs  return) 
ivil  will  bleu,  and  ice  will  bun.* 
Urid  spoke  wtU)  jHcrdng  eye, 
sbudder  ran  around  tiie  skjr  i 
Tlie  stem  oM  war-god^  shook  tkeir  brads  i 
the  sei^bs  Irawn'd  ftooi  mynle-bedst 
Sccai'd  to  tlie  boly  festiraJ 
The  rub  word  boded  ill  to  all : 
The  balio^e-bMrn  of  Fate  wrs  bent ; 
The  bo«Dd»  of  good  and  ill  were  rmi  | 

h^tnwg  Hadn  could  not  keep  his  own, 

^^Bu>  all  slid  to  cocfusioo. 

IPRi  sad  sclf-kaovlcdgc  withering  fell 

On  ibe  beanty  of  Uriel; 

In  hoTea  once  nniiieot,  the  god 
I       Withdrew  that  boo  into  hit  cload; 
'        Whether  doom'd  to  long  gyiatioa 
ea  of  generation, 


RALPH  WALDO  EMERSON 

Or  by  knowledge  grown  too  briglii 

To  hit  the  oen'c  of  feebler  sighu 

Straightway  a  forgetting  wind 

Stole  over  the  celestial  kind. 

And  their  lips  the  secret  kept, 

If  in  ashes  the  fire-seed  slepc 

But,  now  and  then,  truifa-spcaking  tliiags 

Shamed  the  angels'   veiling  wings ; 

And,  shrilling  frora  the  solar  coune. 

Or  from  fruit  of  chemic  force, 

Procession  of  a  soul  in  matter, 

Or  the  specdirg  change  of  water, 

Or  out  of  the  good  of  evil  bom. 

Came  Uriel's  Toice  of  cherub  scorn, 

And  a  blush  tinged  the  upper  sky. 

And  the  gods  shook,  they  koew  not  why. 


671.  Bacchus 

D  RING  me  wine,  bui  wux  whioh  imcr  ^mr 


RALPH  WALDO  EMERSON 


Givr  me  of  the  trap, 

Wbow  Mitple  IcaTn  and  tcndrib  eurlM 

Among  the  lilvcr  bills  of  hnmi 

Draw  vtrrlasting  dnri 

Wiae  of  wioc. 

Blood  of  tlie  worlil, 

Pnrni  of  formv,  snd  mould  of  Uarurrs, 

That  I  intoxicatMl, 

And  by  tbe  dnq^t  atsimUtml. 

Miy  flow  M  pkasure  ihrough  all  lufDirctj 

Tbe  bnd- language  righily  tpttl. 

And  Uiflt  vhicfa  rosn  uy  to  well : 

Wkk  that  b  ibrd 

l.'Ae  tbe  tormits  of  tbe  nn 

Up  tbe  honnoa  wafls, 

Or  like  tlw  Adiotic  Mr^aIIl*^  wbicti  nu 

When  the  Soodi  Sa  calls. 

WsiCT  and  bread, 
Food  vhich  aetds  no  irannmiling. 
Ratfibow-flownuig,  wiftdom-fiutJo^ 
Vfiot  which  t»  already  nua, 
Food  which  icach  and  rcuoa  eui. 

Wiae  whkh  Moiic  i^, — 

Mtnic  hkI  wine  arc  oor, — 

That  I,  drinking  this. 

Shall  hftv  fu  ChMS  talk  wiih  me; 

Kings  unborn  shAll  walk  witb  me; 

And  tbe  poor  grtu  sb^l  plot  and  fLa 

What  it  will  do  wbm  tt  n  maiw 

Qukken'd  »o,  n-iil  I  unlock 

Every  crypt  of  erciy  rock. 


RALPH  WALDO  EMERSON 

I  thank  the  joyful  juice 
For  alt  I  know; 
Winds  of  rememhwing 
Of  the  flacient  being  blow, 
Aad  spcming'Soiid  walls  of  use 
Open  and  flow. 


Pour,  Bacchus!  the  mnnnbenDg  wine; 

Retrieve  the  loss  of  me  and  mine ! 

Vine  for  vine  be  antidote, 

And  the  grape  retjuite  the  lotc  I 

Haste  to  cure  the  old  desparj 

Renson  in  Nature's  lotus  dtencL'd — 

The  memory  of  agci  qucnch'd — 

Gire  them  again  to  shine ; 

Let  wine  repair  what  this  undid  t 

And  where  the  tafectian  slid, 

A  dazzling  memory  revive  j 

Refresh  the  iaded  dnis, 

Recut  the  asM  dnnta.        --  - 


.PH  WALDO  EMERSON 

'or  totgM  lo  nw  is  nesr; 
Sbidow  and  umlight  m  tbr  sunc) 
Tbc  vuhliM  jods  to  me  appesri 
AjkI  ooe  to  oie  ate  aluoie  unI  faoiB. 

They  teckoo  ill  who  ka«e  me  ooti 
Wben  me  ibey  fly,  I  am  tbc  wi&est 
m  Uic  doabur  and  the  doubt, 
And  I  the  byiao  tbe  Brahmin  nnsh 

The  nroog  god«  pine  for  my  abode, 
And  fiae  in  vma  ihc  acted  Semi| 

But  ibou,  mcfk  kmt  of  tbe  good  ! 

Find  tnc,  and  turn  tby  bKk  oa  heann. 


iUCHARD  HENRY  HORNE 
rf7i.  T&e  7lougb 

A   LAITDSCAPE  M    BKKKSHIXt 

ABOVE  yon  sombce  iwell  of  bnd 
^^     Tbou  Ke'isi  the  dawn's  gra<e  orai^  hue, 
With  one  pale  streak  like  yellow  uad, 
Aod  OTcr  that  a  vein  of  blue. 

11k  ait  is  <»kl  above  the  woods  { 

All  siknt  is  tbc  earth  and  sky, 
Except  with  \aA  own  loody  moods 

Tbe  blackbinl  holds  a  coUoijuy. 

0*et  tbe  broid  hill  creeps  a  beam, 

Like  hope  that  gilds  a  good  man's  brow; 

And  oow  asotads  tlic  nooiril-sucam 
Of  stalwart  bones  oomc  to  plou^ 

Hi 


RICHARD  HENRY  HORNE 

Ye  rigid  Ploughmen,  beat  in  mind 
Your  labour  U  for  future  haure : 

Advance — spare  not — nor  look  behind — 
Plough  deep  and  stnugbt  wiih  ill  your 


ROBERT  STEPHEN  HAWKER 

tf/^.        King  Arthur's  ff^aes-hacl 

WT'AES-HAEL  for  knighi  sod  dame! 

'^       O  merry  be  their  dole  1 
Drink-hael  !    in  Jesu's  aaurc 
We  fill  the  uwny  bow!; 
But  cover  down  ihe  curving  crest. 
Mould  of  the  Orient  Lady's  breast. 

Waes-hacl  !    yet  lift  no  lid : 
Drain  ye  the  reeds  for  Trine. 

Drink-hael !    the  milk  was  bid 
That  soothed  that  Babe  dirine; 

Hush'd,  as  this  hollow  channel  llows, 

Hi"  rfrew  the  halujm   frnm  ih^  nwr. 


ROBERT  STEPHEN  HAWKER 


W 


i7F-     -^f^  f^ff  "*'  "^^  Mimstering  Spirits  t 
^E  wc  ibcm  not — we  cMMt  bru 
The  music  of  tb«r  winj — 
Yet  know  we  that  tbcjr  lojoum  near, 
The  Aagels  oF  tbe  spring! 

Thry  ^idc  along  this  lonly  grouad 

Wheo  Uiv  fitst  violet  grows ; 
Tbrir  gnodal  tuada  luirc  jtui  nDbound 

Tbe  Kooe  of  )-oodeT  ii»e. 

I  gather  it  for  tby  dnr  btCMt^ 

From  Kam  aad  ibadow  free: 
Thai  which  an  Angel's  coach  bath  UcM 

Is  roret,  my  low,  ht  thee  I 

THOMAS  WADE 

^tS,  The  Half-asleep 

/~\  FOR  the  mighty  wakening  that  aroused 

^^     The  ftld-iimc  Prophets  w  their  mmions  high; 

And  to  blind  Homer's  inward  aunlikc  eye 
Sbow'd  the  heart's  unitersc  where  be  caroiuKd 
Dtlyi  the  Fishers  poor  unboused, 
Ud  sent  tbent  forth  to  preach  diTrmiy; 
Aod  Rudc  otd-  MUtoo  his  great  dark  dcly, 
To  tbe  light  of  one  immortal  theme  espoused ! 
3ui  half  axleep  are  ihooe  oow  most  awake ; 
And  MTc  calm-thoughied  Wotdswnnb,  we  hate  none 
i'ho  for  etersity  put  tima  at  nakci 
And  hold  a  coauaM  course  as  doth  the  sum 
i^e  pdd  but  drOfS  that  no  deep  thirstinpt  slake; 
And  leebly  cease  ete  we  hare  well  begun. 


FRANCIS  MAHONY 


677.  The  Bells  of  Sbandon 


■^^ITH  drep  affwtion, 

"^       And  recollection, 
1   often  think  of 

Those  SbandoD  bells, 
Whose  sounds  so  wild  would, 
la  the  days  of  childhood, 
FUog  around  my  cmdle 

ThL'ir  mapc  spells. 
On  this  I  ponder 
Where'er  1  wander, 
And  thus  grow  fonder. 

Sweet  Cork,   of  tliec; 

"VVlth  iby  bells  of  Shaodoo, 
That  sound  so  grand  od 
The  pleasant  waters 


d«-dM 

I 


FRANCIS  MAHONY 


m 


hUik  tlie  bdla  of  Shindoa 
Sound  fir  more  grand  on 
The  pleaMnt  waters 
Of  the  Ri<«r  tn. 

IV  hnrd  bctis  lotling 
Otd  Adrian's  Mole  ia, 
Thrir  thunder  rolSng 

Froin  tHe  Viikaa, 
And  c]nut>aU  glormu 
SwinsiBK  upraaiious 
Id  llie  i^rgeous  torrcts 

Of  Notcc  DuDCt 
B<it  thy  tounds  «-ct«  tiKtur 
Tluui  Ac  dome  of  Peur 
Flings  o'er  the  Tbcr, 

PesUbg  »ofcmiil)r — 
0,  the  bl^s  of  Stimdoa 
Sound  ftr  mm  gnod  on 
llie  pletuM  waicT' 

Of  xbe  Rittr  Lcc 

Tbetf  *»  a  beiJ  io  Moscow, 
While  on  tower  ood  kkisk  Ol 
la  Sjnut  Sophui 

The  Turkman  geta, 
And  loud  ia  air 
Cal!»  men  lo  prayer 
From  the  upcrmg  sumnut* 

Of  tall  mimrets. 
Such  em|<ty  phaUDOi 
I  fttdy  sruit  ihciDi 
But  there '«  an  viibem 

More  dear  to  me, — 


FRANCIS  MAHONY 

Til  tbc  bells  of  Sbaodon, 
That  louod  so  gnad  oa 
The  pleuant  mien 
Of  the  Riier  Lev. 


ELIZABETH  BARRETT  BROWNING 

tf7*.  SeialmJ'i  Scroli 

T  LEFT  thee  \m,  a  child  k  hem, 
^     A  wonua  scarce  to  y*3m 
I  come  to  dice,  >  solema  ctxrpM 

Whidi  odtfari'  feels  nor  karu 
I  luie  DO  breath  to  use  io  n^; 
Tliey  laid  tbc  iJetd-vrciglits  oa  miae  ejt* 

To  seal  tliem  saTe  from  team. 

Look  on  mc  with  thine  own  calm  look: 

I  meet  it  calni  t.%  thou. 
Ko  look  of  thine  c»i  change  this  smie, 

Or  break  iliy  sinful  row: 
1  tell  thee  that  cny  poor  scora'd  bnui 
Is  of  thine  earth — tfainr  earth— a  pnti 

It  cannot  vex  thee  now. 

I  have  pray'd  for  thee  with  bursting  sob 
When  i-as&ion's  course  was  fnt; 

I  hxTc  [>ray'd  for  thee  with  silem  1^ 
In  the  anguish  dock  could  tm; 

They  wluijiei'd  oft,  'She  slecpcth  »ft*— 
But  I  only  pray'd  for  tlwe. 


ELIZABETH  BARREIT  DROWNING 

Go  to)    1  pray  for  thcc  no  more: 

The  oorjue'i  tongnc  h  Hill; 
lu  folded  Gogm  point  lo  bnrco, 

But  poiai  there  uilT  aod  cliiUt 
No  t«nhn  wrong,  no  fAtiiicr  woe 
Huh  Ikraee  rrnn  tlic  tio  below 

Its  tneqnil  Iiestt  to  tbrilL 

I  cbvge  tbce,  by  tlic  tiring's  infer, 

And  the  dead's  hIcbutm, 
To  vring  from  oat  thj  soul  a  cry 

Which  God  shjil  bear  ud  bins! 
Leu  HeiTcn's  own  }>dm  droop  in  my  hand, 
And  pole  among  the  saints  1  snnd, 

A  saint  conafanodcsi. 


Tie  2>aert(J  Garden 

T  MIND  mc  in  the  diys  dejuited, 
-^     How  ofiet)  wdcmnth  tbe  nm 
With  childish  bounds  I  used  to  run 
To  s  gsnkn  hwg  deserted. 

The  beds  and  walks  were  Tuisb'd  tjiotei 
I  And  wbercioe'cr  liad  struck  the  spode, 
The  £rtcne«  grasses  Nature  laid. 
To  sancti^  her  righL 

I  calTd  the  place  roy  wilikmess, 
For  DO  o«ie  cnterM  there  but  L 
The  sheep  look'd  in,  the  graas  to  espy. 
And  pss'd  it  oc'ertbdesfc 


ELIZABETH  BARRETT  BROWNING 

The  trees  were  intetwoTcn  wild. 
And  spread  their  boughs  enough  about 
To  keep  both  sheep  and  shcjilierd  out. 
But  not  a  tuppy  child. 

AdTenlurous  joy  it  was  for  me  ! 
1  crept  beneath  tlie  boughs,   and  fouid 
A  circle  smooth  of  mossy  ground 
Beoeacli  a  popUt-tree. 

Old  garden  rose-trees  hedged  it  in, 

Bedropt  with  roses  waxen<whice. 
Well  satisfied  with  dew  and  light. 
And  careless  to  be  seen. 


Long  years  ago,  it  might  befall. 
When  all  the  garJen  flowers  were  trim, 
The  giave  old  gardener  prided  him 
On  these  the  most  of  all. 

Some  Ladv.  sMtdv  amtaach. 


liLlZAllliTH  BARRIirr  BROWNING 

Nor  tboeght  that  gvdton-  (full  at  Kom 
For  men  ualnni'd  and  simple  phnM) 
A  child  would  briD£  it  all  its  praiw. 
By  creeping  tlirough  the  thtwns  I 

To  mc  apoo  nj  low  mou  scat, 
Tbongh  oner  a  dnam  the  roses  tan 
Of  kcicDCe  or  love's  complunetu, 
I  ween  thejr  Nnek  as  sweet. 

It  did  not  nxive  my  (rkf  to  tn 
The  trace  of  human  step  defartcd : 
BecMie  the  garden  was  deierted, 
Tbt  Uiibrr  pb«  lor  me! 

Frieoils,  bUme  me  not !   a  turrow  ken 
Hath  cfaiUhood  'iwixt  the  mn  and  tvard; 
We  draw  the  roora)  aTteiwaid — 
We  feel  the  ^adneis  thni. 

And  gladdmi  Immtb  for  me  did  glide 
In  silenct  ai  the  roM-tree  wsll: 
A  ihnish  made  gUdnesa  mnncal 
Upon  the  other  side. 

Nor  be  Qor  I  did  e'er  indine 
To  peck  or  phick  the  blouoms  white:— 
How  dionld  I  know  bnt  that  they  might 
Lead  Iitcb  as  gbd  as  mine? 

To  make  my  hermh-bomc  complete, 
1  brought  dear  water  t'rotn  the  spring 
PraiMd  in  M  owo  iow  auanniring, 
And  aasti  glouy  wet. 


ELIZABETH  BARRETT  BROWNDJC 

And  so,  1  cliotighi,  my  likeoess  grew 
( Without  the  melancholy  ulc) 
To  '  gentle  herniii  of  the  dale,' 
And  Angelioa  too. 

For  oft  I  read  within   my  dooIc 
Such  minstrel  stones ;    tili   the  brceie 
Mode  souods  poetic  in  the  trees. 
And  then  1  shut  the  book. 

If  I  shut  this  wherein   I  write, 
1  hear  no  more  the  wind  athwan 
Tbose  trees,  aor  feel  that  childish  bean 
Delighting  in  delight. 

My  childhood  from  my  iife  is  pnncd. 
My  footstep  from  the  ith>s»  which  dtrv 
Its  fairy  circle  round;    anew 
The  garden  is  destited. 

Another  thrnith  ma.<r  then  wJmji^ 


ELIZABETH  BARRETT  BROWNING 


» 


I  knew  the  tane  wodd  [od  avay; 
And  yrt,  brs*<lc  ihc  rosc-Urv  wall, 
Dnr  God,  Ivow  kMoid,  if  at  all, 
Did  I  look  up  to  pray  I 

Th«  time  b  putt  and  now  that  grows 
Tbr  cffttm  high  among  the  trcts. 
And  [  brhold  white  Mpnlehres 
As  well  «»  the  white  row, — 

,  When  wiwr,  nKcker  thoughts  are  gim. 
And  I  have  learnt  to  Lift  nijr  lace, 
Rnmndcd  bow  (anil's  greenest  place 
The  cdovr  draws  from  bcavcDf— 

It  SonMhiag  Mith  for  eattltly  pain, 
But  mofe  for  bcarenly  prooiue  free, 
Thai  I  who  wa!t,  wotild  shrink  to  be 
That  happy  cbiU  ^ain. 

So.  Coniolathn 

aLL  m  not  ukeni  there  are  left  behind 
*^     Lrring  BelorMt,  tender  lookt  lo  bring 

And  nuke  the  daylight  still  a  happy  thing. 
And  lender  voiees,  to  make  soft  tbe  windi 
But  if  it  were  not  so— if  I  could  find 

No  lore  m  all  this  world  lor  comfoding. 

Nor  any  ptth  but  hollowly  did  rinf> 
Where  'dim  to  da«'  the  love  from  life  dnjoin'd; 
And  if,  before  those  sepulchres  tmnMiing 

I  stood  alone  (as  some  forsaken  lamb 
Gon  bleating  up  the  moors  in  wnry  dearth) 
Crying  'Where  are  ye,  O  my  loved  and  loving?*— 

I  know  a  voice  wonid  sovnd,  'Daughter,  1  ah. 
,  Can  I  stu&cc  for  Hetvcn  ad  dm  fat  tanh  i  * 

m 


ELIZABETH  BARRETT  BROWNiSC 


dSi.  Grief 

T   TELL  you,  hopeless  grief  is  pa^sionlas; 
That  only  men  incredulous  of  desjair. 
Half-taught  m  anguish,  through  the  mUn^ ' 
Beat  upward  [a  God's  ihrant  m   loud  acccu 
Of  shrieking  and  reproach.     Full  dMcrmea 

In   souls  as  countries  liedi  silenc-baic 

Under  the  bl.irching,   certiiril  eye-gUie 
Of  the  abwlute  Heavens.      Deep-beartcd   mii^ 
Grief  for  tliy  Dead  in  silence  like  to  deaih — 

Most  like  a  mocumenial  statue  set 
In  cveriasting  watch   and  moveless   woe 
Till  itself  crumble  to  the  dust  beneath. 

Touch   it;    the  marble  eyelids  are   not   wMt 
If  it  could  weep,   it  could  arise  and  go, 

Somiets  from  the  T'ortngtiese 
682.  i 

J  THOUGHT  once  how  Thwoitua  hjd  vag 


ELIZABETH  BARRETT  BROWNING 

6S3.  a 

T  TNLTKE  are  we,  udike,  O  princdj  Hnitl 
^-'      Uoltke  our  uses  and  our  desdoint 

Our  ministering  two  aogels  look  surprise 
Od  one  another,  as  they  strike  athwart 
Their  wings  in  passing.     Thou,  bethink  thee,  art 

A  guest  for  queens  to  social  pageantries, 

With  gages  firxa  a  hundred  brighter  eyes 
Than  tears  even  can  make  mine,  to  play  thy  part 
Of  chief  musician.     What  hast  thou  to  do 

With  looking  from  the  latticc'tights  at  me — 
A  poor,  liied,  wandering  singer,  singing  through 

The  dark,  and  leaning  up  a  cypress  tree? 
The  chrism  is  on  thioe  head— on  mine  the  dew — 

And  Death  inust  dig  the  level  where  these  agree. 

6S4.  Hi 

f^O  from  me.     Yet  I  feel  that  I  shall  stand 
^^     Henceforward  in  thy  shadow.     Nevermore 

Alone  upon  the  threshold  of  my  door 
Of  individual  life  I  shall  command 
The  uses  of  my  soul,  nor  lift  my  hand 

Serenely  in  the  sunshine  as  before. 

Without  the  sense  of  that  which  I  forbore^^ 
Thy  touch  upon  the  palm.     The  widest  land 
Doom  takes  to  part  us,   leaves  thy  heart  in  mine 

With  puises  that  beat  double.     What  I  do 
And  what  I  dream  include  thee,  as  the  wine 

Must  caste  of  its  own  grapes.     And  when  I  sue 
God  for  myself,  He  heara  that  name  of  thine. 

And  sees  within  my  eyes  the  tears  of  two. 

nr 


ELIZABETH  BARRETT  BROWNING 


68j.  hi 

T  F  titou  must  love  me,  let  it  be  for  lUBglit 
'      Except  for  lore's  sake  only.     Do  not  uy. 

'  1  love  her  for  her  sniile — her  look — her  wtf 
Of  sjjeaking  gently, — for  a  irick  of  thought 
That  falls  in  well  with  mine,  and  cenia  bcocgM 

A  sense  of  pleasant  case  on  such  a  djy  * — 

For  iht:^e  things  in  themsckes,  Beloved,  nay 
Be  changed,   or  change  for  thee — and  lore.   m> 
Mjy  be   uowrought  so.      Neillicr  lore  me  for 

Thine  own  dear  jaly's  wiping  my  chocks  dijt 
A  creature  might  forget  to  weep,  who  boit 

Thy  comfort  long,   and  lose  thy  love  thenbyl 
But  love  mc  for  love's  sake,   that  evermore 

Thou  mayst  love  on,  through  lore's  nenriiy. 


68  If. 


V 


YWHEN  our  two  souls  stand  up  erca  and  suotig, 


ELtZABETH  BARRETT  BROWNING 


68?. 


A  Musiul  /nstrument 


^/"/HAT  wu  lie  doiof,  the  grcjt  god  Pan, 

''      DtiWD  to  tbc  reeds  bj  ti»c  rim  ? 
SpRading  niia  Mul  Kattenog  bu, 
Splidiing  uxl  paddling  with  hoofs  of  ■  goM, 
And  breaking  the  golden  lilies  a&ou. 
With  the  dngon-Ay  oa  tbc  river. 

He  tore  out  a  ittdf  the  Ijrcat  god  Pan, 
Fnxn  tbe  dttp  cool  bed  of  the  river  i 

The  tiBi|Md  witer  tiubidly  nn. 

And  Ilie  bojten  lilies  a-dying  by. 

And  tbe  dnieon-By  bad  fled  away, 
Err  he  brought  i(  out  of  the  rim. 

Hijth  eti  the  share  SM  the  gnat  ff)A  Pta, 

While  tiubidljr  flow'd  the  rim; 
And  back'd  and  hew'd  at  a  great  god  can 
With  hit  hard  bJcak  steel  at  the  padcni  reed. 
Till  there  was  not  a  sign  of  the  leaf  indeed 

To  prove  it  fresh  from  the  riier. 

He  ott  it  short,  did  tbe  grat  itod  Pan 
(How  udl  it  stood  in  the  river!), 

Then  drew  the  pith,  like  the  heart  of  a  mm, 

Steadily  from  tbe  ouuide  ring, 

And  tuAch'd  die  poor  dry  empty  thing 
la  boles,  ■>  he  tat  by  the  river. 

'This  is  dw  way,'  laugh'd  tbe  great  |{od  P«i 
(Lan^'d  while  be  sat  by  the  river), 
"I'hr  only  way,  since  gods  began 
Co  make  tweet  moaic,  tbey  could  Mooted.' 
r/ien  dropping  hin  mouth  to  4  hole  in  the  tved, 
He  blew  in  power  by  the  river. 

m 


ELIZABETH  BARRETT  CROWTA 

Sweet,  sweet,  sweei,  O  Pan  I 
Piercing  sweet  by  the  ritei ! 

Blinding  sweci,   O  great  god  Pan  ! 

The  sun  on  the  hill  forgot  to  diie. 

And  the  lilies  revived,  and  the  dr 
Canie  back  to  dieam  on  the  fiver. 

Yet  half  a  beast  is  the  gccai  god  Pa 

To  laugh  as  he  silB  by  the  ri'rr. 

Making  a  poet  out  of  a   man : 

The  true  gixls  sigh  for  ilie  cost  snd 

For  the  reed  which  grows  nevennore  ^ 

As  a  rt-ed  with  the  reeds  of  the  rim 


FREDERICK  TENN^'SON 

688.  The  Holy  Tide 

'T'HE  days  arc  5ad,  it  is  tlie  Holy  tidf ! 
^      The  Winier  mom  is  short,  the  Night 
So  let  the  lifeless  Hours  be  glotified 

»T—    ,  •  .   >  .  .  lit* 


\ 

'i 


o 


'henry  WADSWORTH  LONGFELLOW 

689.  Mr  Lost  Touth 

FTfiN  I  thiak  of  the  bcuiifnl  lowv 
That  is  scucd  by  tbe  tea; 
Often  ia  ibw^bt  go  up  aad  down 
Tbe  jJconm  Urevts  of  ib«i  dear  old  iowd. 

»And  mjr  ^wtth  comn  back  to  mc. 
And  *  verse  of  a  L^iilaod  wng 
Is  biuniiiig  aij  memory  stUI : 
'A  bo^r*!  wiU  U  ilie  wiod's  will, 
And  the  thoa^u  of  yoolh  are  loi^  long  thougbts-* 

I  csn  we  tlic  shadowy  linn  of  its  ines, 

And  caicfa,  in  niddtn  ^nm«, 
Tbe  sheen  of  the  far-snrnxnding  seu, 
And  inlands  that  were  the  Hcspettdes 
Of  all  ray  tuyish  dreams. 
■       Ajid  tbe  buiden  of  that  old  song, 
'       It  mumurs  aad  whb{)eTS  sdUi 

*A  boy's  wiil  is  the  wind's  will, 
And  the  thOBghts  of  yueth  are  toog,  kxig  thovghts.' 

I  remember  tbe  Uick  whanres  and  tbe  slips, 

And  ih*  sea-odes  to<dag  fr«i 
And  S|>amsh  uilors  wilb  bejrded  lips, 
And  the  beamy  and  oiyucry  of  tbe  sbipi. 
And  tbe  m^ic  of  the  sea. 

And  the  Totc«  of  tlui  w^nrait!  song 
Is  siaging  and  sa<rTng  sdll: 
'A  boy's  will  is  the  wind's  mil, 
the  Uioughu  of  yocnh  are  loog,  long  (hoogbtf.* 
Dd  Km 


HENRY  WADSWORTH  LONGFELLOW 


I  icmember  the  txilwarks  bjr  the  siiotc. 

And  the  fort  upon  the  hill  i 
7'bE  sunrise  gun  with  its  hollow  ro&r, 
The  drum-beat  rej«ated  o'ei  and  o'er. 
And  tlie  bugle  wild  and  shiill. 
And  the  music  of  that  old  song 
Throbs  in  my   meniory  still : 
'A  boy's  will  is  the  wind's  will. 
And  the  thoughts  of  youth  are  long,  loag 


ibeq^B^ 


I  tcmembtr  tlie  sea-Gght  far  iway. 
How  it  thunder'd  o'et  die  tide ! 
And  the  dead  sea^ciiptiiins,  as  ihcy  I^iy 
In  their  giavt's  o'ctlooking  the  tiatiijuil   bay 
Where  they  in  battle  died. 

And  die  sound  of  that  moumful  sung 
Goes  through  me  widi  a  thnll : 
'  A  boy's  will  is  the  wind's  will. 
And  the  thoughts  of  youth  arc  long,  loog  tha 

1  can  sec  the  breezy  dome  of  groves, 
T-u-  _u-j — .  -r  r\— ^ — • J — 


HENRY  WADSWORTH  LONGFLLLOW 


And  (be  voice  of  that  feAJ  song 
Sings  oa,  bmI  ii  never  still : 
'A  boy't  will  is  die  wJod's  wiU, 
knd  tbc  thoughts  of  youth  ue  long,  long  tlwughu.' 

'I'hcre  aie  ihiog*  of  vhich  1  may  oM  tficak ; 
There  aie  dmms  that  cannot  dici 

Ere  are  tliougbts  that  make  ihc  urong  hnn  weak, 
1  btinj  a  jiallar  into  the  cheek, 
Lad  a  mist  before  tlie  eye. 
And  the  words  of  that  faital  song 
CoRie  over  n>c  like  a  chill: 
'  A  boy's  will  is  ihc  wind's  will, 
I  the  tbuughta  of  youth  aie  Ictag,  long  ilioughtiL' 
age  (o  me  now  arc  the  forms  I  meet 
Vbea  I  vint  the  dtuir  old  town ; 
Bui  the  natiTe  ur  ts  pure  and  tweet, 

(od  the  tree*  that  o'enbadow  each  weU*known  sucn. 
As  they  bolisce  up  and  down. 
Are  si>i)^t>2  the  beauiiful  long. 
Are  sighing  and  whispering  Kill: 
'A  boy's  will  is  the  «-iad'*  wiD, 
od  the  thoughts  of  youth  are  long,  long  thoogbls.' 
od  Dceriog's  woods  are  fresh  and  &ir. 
And  witli  joy  that  is  almost  pin 
My  Ixan  goes  back  to  wander  therc^ 
And  among  the  dreams  of  the  days  that  were 
I  find  my  loot  youth  ag«ix. 

And  the  strange  nd  beautiful  soi^ 
The  groit3  are  rtpcating  it  uill: 
*A  boy's  will  is  the  wind's  will, 
ini  the  ihoughu  of  youth  uc  loo^  long  thoughts.' 


JOHN  CREENLEAF  WHITTIER 


690. 


Festa 


r\  CHRIST  of  Godl   wboM  IL&  ■»! 
^-^     Our  own  hsTc  reconciled. 
Most  quicdy,  mon  tnxinty 
Take  home  thy  tUf-iumcd  cbitd  1 

Tbjr  grace  ix  b  ber  padent  eyes, 
Thy  wonU  are  on  ber  tongue) 

The  veiy  silence  raund  her  setm 
As  if  the  angels  suog. 

Her  Mnile  is  as  a  lIucoinH  child^ 

Who  hean  its  another's  caU: 
The  Ulies  of  Thy  perftct  f«cc 

About  her  {lillow  fall. 

She  leans  from  out  onr  diof^g  wait 

To  rest  herself  in  Thine ; 
Alone  to  Tbcc,  dear  l^rd,  can  we 

Our  wcU-bdoitd  resign. 

O.  less  (or  her  than  for  omselvea 
We  bow  OUT  beadi  and  pray  1 

Her  setting  star,  like  BetlilHiem'a, 
To  Tbee  shall  point  the  way  I 


KM 


HELEN  SELINA,  LADY  DUFFERIN 
ffii.  Lament  of  the  Irish  Emigrant 

Ooyat, 
T'M  litdn'  oa  the  scUe,  Maiy. 
*     Whew  wc  Bi  side  by  side 
Ob  a  bright  Mi;  mornin*  long  igo, 
Wlm  first  you  wvTc  my  bride; 

com  was  qiriiigin'  ftc&h  aad  gnta, 
And  tli«  bik  aaog  loud  ind  high — 
Aod  the  red  was  oo  your  lip,  Mary, 
And  the  lovc-ligbt  la  your  eye. 

The  place  is  lUlW  clunged,  Mary. 

The  day  is  bright  as  then, 

be  lark's  loud  taa^  is  ia  my  car, 

Aod  the  com  is  grm  again; 
Bat  I  ousa  the  soft  dasp  of  yow  haod, 

And  yow  breath  warm  on  my  cbeefc. 
And  I  adll  keep  Iht'niog  for  the  words 

You  otnt  more  will  speak. 

Tit  but  a  ntf  down  yonder  Isdc, 

And  the  lintc  church  stands  near, 
The  ditffcb  where  we  were  wed,  Mary, 

I  sec  the  spin  from  here. 
Bui  ilie  jrateyard  lies  between,  Mary, 

And  my  step  might  bieak  )-our  tat— 
For  I've  laid  yoo,  darling !   down  to  sleeps 

With  yonr  baby  on  yow  breast. 


LADY  DUFFERIN 


I'm  very  lonely  now,  Vlarj, 


For  the 


poor  male  no  new 
Bill,  O,  thpy  lo»c  the  better  stiU, 

The  few  our  Father  ^endsl 
And  you  were  all  /  had.   Maty, 

My  blcBsin'  aid  my  pride ; 
There's  nothin'  left  to  cm  for 

Since  ray  poor  Mary  died. 


(nenilir 


Youra  was  the  good,  brave  heart,  Mn 

That  StiU  kept  hoping  on. 
When  the  trust  in  God  had  left  my  « 

And  my  ann's  young  strength  va^m 
There  was  comfort  ever  on  yoac  lipiJ 

And  ihe  kind  look  on  your  brow — 
I  blcs^  you,  Mary,  for  thai  suae. 

Though  you  cannot  bear  me  oow. 


T  ?b»nV  Tfii!  fiw  thw  »"««"t  aPHk 


LADY  DUFFERIN 

They  M/   there  's  brad  and  work  for  all, 

And  ibe  mhi  sbion  iilwcya  lbcr« — 
But  I'll  not  forget  old  Irehnd, 

Were  it  fiftjr  linia  a*   fail  I 

Aod  often  in  Uiow  grand  old  wooila 

I'll  M,  utd  sfaut  my  eyes, 
And  my  hevt  will  travel  tack  agva 

To  the  place  where  Mary  tie* : 
Anl  111  think  I  «ec  the  little  ttile 

Where  wc  Mt  lide  by  »idc: 
And  the  sptingin'  com.  and  the  Wgtit  May  mom, 

When  lint  you  were  my  bride. 


lROLINE  ELIZABETH  SARAH  NORTON 

fp2.  /  Jq  not  Iwe  Ttce 

■■oe-iai« 

I   DO  Dot  tore  theet — ool    I  do  not  love  thee! 

^     And  jet  when  thou  art  ab«eni  I  am  tad : 

Atki   envy  ereo  the  bright  blue  sky  above  lliee, 

^^Wbuie  quiet  stars  may  »ec  thee  aod  be  glad. 

^^     I  do  not  lo**  Aeel — yet,  I  know  oot  why, 
Whate'cr  thou  dost  seems  still  well  dooe,  to  me: 
And  often  in  my  solitwle  I  »gh 
[      That  those  I  do  lore  are  not  more  Kkc  tlwc ! 

^B     I  do  not  lo*c  thee  1— yet,  wbnt  thou  art  goae, 
^H  hate  the  soand  (though  those  who  ^leak  be  dear) 
^^     Which  breaks  thv  fingeriag  echo  of  the  tone 
Thy  voice  of  mmc  Ul*m  upon  my  car. 


HON.  MRS.  NORTON 


I  do  not  love  tbee! — yet  ihy  spok: 
With  their  deep,   bright,  and   most   ex 

Between  me  and  the  midnighi  bca' 
Ofeoer  than  any  eyes  I  ever  knew. 


I  know  I  do  not  love  tUce !  ycc  aba 
Others  will  scarcely  trust  my  candid  bear 

And  oft  I  catch  them  smiling  as  tLi.-y 
Because  they  see  me  gazing  where  thou  j 


\ 


CHARLES  TENNYSON  TURNI 


(fpj. 


Lefff's  Ghhe 


A 


■VWHEN  Letty  had  scam  jwss'd  her  iliiid 
And  her  young  artless  wonds  began  to 
One  day  we  gave  the  child  a   colour'd   sphere 
Of  the  wide  eartli,  that  she  might  mark  ant 


— I   -_i:_„    -II 


I 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 
n  Helm 

OELBN,  thy  brauty  b  to  iik 

^  *■     Like  iboie  Nictaa  bvki  of  yore 

Tb«t  sntly>  o'er  a  fmruiacd  tea. 

The  we»ry  wny-wiwn  wuMlcnf  bore 

To  his  owo  tutiie  <>liorc. 

On  desperate  ens  loog  wool  to  roxm, 
Thy  hyacinth  hair,  thy  clasnc  face. 

Thy  Naiad  nra  hare  brought  roe  boise 
To  the  glory  that  wu  Greece, 

And  the  gnndcur  that  was  Rome. 

Lo,  in  yoa  brilliant  wtodow-nicfae 
How  itatue-like  I  «ce  thee  stand, 
1^  agite  lamp  witliia  thy  hud. 

Ah !    Psyche,  from  tbe  tegioos  which 
Are  holy  laodl 

fif.  AnnaM  Lee 

fT  vas  nuny  and  many  a  year  ago, 
^      Iq  a  kingdom  by  the  sea, 
Thai  a  maiden  there  hnd  whom  you  luiy  know 

Sy  th«  name  oF  Annabel  Lee. 
And  this  maidei)  she  liitd  with  no  othet  ibooght 
Tluti  to  loTt  and  be  loi'ed  by  me. 

I  was  a  chiM  and  she  was  a  child 

In  this  kingdom  by  the  sea; 
Boi  we  lotvd  with  4  tore  that  was  more  thao  lore — 

I  and  my  Annabel  Lee, 
With  a  love  that  the  wingM  senpbs  of  bniPM 

CoTCled  her  and  me^ 

odi  •» 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 


And  this  was  the  reason  that,  long  ago. 

In  this  kingdom  by  the  sea, 
A  wind  blew  out  of  a  cloud,  citiUing 

My  lieautiful  Annabel  Lee, 
So  that  her  high-bom  kinsman  came 

And  bore  her  away  from  me. 
To  shut  her  up  in  a  sq>iJchre 

In  this  kingdom  by  tiie  sea. 

The  angels,  not  half  so  happy  in  heaven. 

Went  envying  her  and  me — 
Yes  I    that  was  the  reason  {as  all  men  know. 

In  thb  kiagdom  by  the  sea) 
That  the  wind  came  out  of  the  cloud  one  m^it. 

Chilling  and  killing  my  Annabel    Lee. 

But  our  love  it  was  stranger  by  far  than  ihe  lore 
Of  those  who  were  older  dian  we^ 
Of  many   far  wiser  than   we — 

And  neither  the  angels  in  heaven  above, 

■M —    .1.-     J ,_-     J __J_    ,1-- 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

For  Annie 

HTHANK  Hmwb  I   the  eriaii— 
*      The  duigrr  b  put. 
And  ibc  Ibgcring  iIliteM 

Is  over  M  fi» — 
And  tbe  fcm  called  <  Living' 
Is  coiM|iier'd  at  Xait. 

Sadly,  I  know 

I  aai  shorn  of  mjr  strcngthi 
And  no  miaclc  I  mcnv 

As  I  lie  M  full  lcn|:t)) : 
Dili  M  nutter— I  M 

I  tan  bttur  m  length. 

And  I  rest  so  comfoscdly 

Now,  in  mjr  btd, 
That  lojr  beholder 

MifM  fuKy  ise  dead — 
Wght  son  at  befaolding  taa, 

TUnkiog  me  dead. 

Ttie  mooning  and  groank^ 
The  sighing  and  aoUaq^ 

Are  ^aicted  now, 

WUfa  tbu  horrible  throbbing 

Ai  heart — ah,  that  horrible^ 
HoniUc  ihrobtiiDg! 

Tbe  oickiKM — the  nausea— 

The  pitiless  pain— 
H«K  cnsed,  with  the  fever 

That  nuddeo'd  my  bran^ 
With  tbe  fncr  called  '  Liviog* 


That  buia'd  in 


niy 


brain 


■)« 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

And  O  !    of  all  tormm 

That  torture  the  worst 
Has  abawd— the  terrible 

Torture  of  thirst 
For  the  naphthaline  river 

Of  Passion  accurst — 
I  have  drunk  of  a  water 

That  quenches  all  thirst. 

—Of  a  water  that  flows, 
With  a  lullaby  sound. 

From  a  spring  but  a  very  few 
Feet  under  ground — 

From  a  cavern  not  »cry  fat 
Down  under  ground. 

And  ah  I    let  it  nerer 

Be  foolishly  s.iid 
That  my  room  it  is  gloomy, 

And  narrow  my  bed  ; 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

A  bolirr  odov 

About  t^  of  pMsin — 
A  rooonvy  odour, 

Conmingled  wuh  |Miiiaic9— 
With  rue  and  tbe  betobful 

Punua  paosueSa 

Aad  w  it  lies  htpfilf, 

BMbing  in  many 
A  ditmi  of  the  truth 

And  the  bewty  of  Annie— 
Dnnrn'd  id  a  b«tb 

or  the  tieMcs  of  Annie. 

She  ttBtkrlj'  kiss'd  me, 

Sbc  (ottdij  cvess'd, 
Aiid  then  I  fell  grntlj 

To  iilcep  on  ba  imxxt — 
D«cply  to  »I«p 

From  the  bcaven  of  bcr  brunt. 

When  the  light  wu  exiinguish'd, 

She  cotcc'd  me  wano, 
And  ibe  ptay'd  U>  the  aniteli 

To  keep  me  from  harm- 
To  the  qoeea  of  tbe  angd* 

To  bhttJd  me  from  ham. 


And  I  lie  so  compowdlj. 

Now,  ia  my  bed 
(Kaowcog  her  lo*e), 

ThK  yoa  fiecy  aw  dead — 


»<i 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 


Aod  I  test  so  contentedly, 

Now,  in  my  bed 
{With  het  love  at  my  breast), 

That  you  fancy  me  dead — 
That  you  shudder  to  look  u  nw. 
Thinking;  me  de»d. 

But  my  heart  it  is  brighter 
Thao  ail  of  the  inany 

Stars  in  the  sky. 

For  it  sparkles  with  Aqdip — 
It  glows  with  the  light 

Of  the  loTe  of  my  Annie — 
With  the  thought  of  the  light 

Of  the  eyes  of  my  Annie. 


^ 


EDWARD  FITZGERALD 


EDWARD  FITZGERALD 

Aai  there  I  ut 

ReMlinf!  old  things 
Of  knighH  an)  lom  dftmscli^ 

While  the  wind  lings— 
O,  dmriljr  wngtl 

I  Dcvcr  look  ont 

Nor  aticad  to  tbe  bbu; 
For  all  10  be  mco 

Is  ibc  Imvm  hiltng  A«: 
pBllii^,  falfing] 

But  cloie  n  the  hemh, 
Like  a  cricket,  sit  L 

Rradiag  of  *imin>er 
Ami  dunlry — 
GtBuK  chirdiy! 

Tbtn  with  u  old  friend 
T  ulk  of  our  youih — 

How  "(WW  gladMine,  but  ofw* 
Foolish,  fonooib ; 
But  gUdwiDc,  gladsome  1 

Or,  to  get  merry, 

Wc  ling  some  old  ihyme 
That  made  ihc  vrood  rtng  tgtin 

lo  ttmuner  iin>e — 
Sweet  (uininer  time  I 

Then  £0  we  saiokitij, 

Silent  and  taut : 
Nk^  puaa  between  us, 

Save  a  brown  jug'— 
SomctiiMsI 


■« 


EDWARD  FITZGERALD 

And  somecimes  ■  ttar 
Wi!i  rise  in  each  tyc, 

Seeiog  tlie  two  old  fHcod* 
So  miTiiiy — 
So  merrilj! 

And  ere  to  bed 

Go  we,  go  we. 
Down  on  ihe  athcs 

We  kneel  □□  the  koet. 
Praying  togettw  1 

TbiK,  tJien,  live  1 

Till,  'mid  all  the  gloom, 
£y  Heaven!    the  bold  sun 
Is  with  me  in  the  room 
Shining,  sbiniD£ ! 

TIicQ  the  clouds  ]ian, 

Swallows  soaring  between; 
The  spring  is  aim, 


EDWARC  FITZGERALD 


tot  tbe  GloriM  of  This  Worid )   mkI  wioe 
(or  tbe  Pn>]ilKt'a  Puaiiae  no  come ; 
Ah,  uke  tbe  Caili,  lod  In  ih«  Crtdil  go, 
<ioi  heed  the  nmble  of  a  diuant  DnunI 

Look  to  the  blowing  Rose  aboot  ua— *  Lo, 
Lsi^biBj;,'  slie  uys,  'into  tlic  worid  1  blow, 

At  ooce  tbe  tilkcn  Cuael  of  m^  Pune 
Tear,  tod  its  Treainire  on  tbe  Cudcn  throw.* 

And  thoK  wbo  husbutdcd  tbe  Golden  gnto 

{nd  tboK  wbo  flung  it  to  tbe  wtodi  bke  Raia 
Aiiltc  to  DO  such  Rurone  Exnh  mv  turo'd 
■,  bwkd  oooe,  Mcd  want  dug  op  apm 
1  hink,  in  this  batttf'd  Cann&ienj 
^^fffaose  Pomob  tie  tbenute  Night  mmI  Day, 
^K    How  Sujiia  after  Sululii  with  hn  Pomp 
^KAbodc  hb  dntincd  Hour,  and  wru  liii  vaj. 

^They  »]r  the  Lion  and  the  Lixacd  keep 

Tbe  Courts  wbac  Januhjrd  j>]or>ed  and  dmk  deep : 

And  Bahrim,  that  great  Hunirr — tbe  wild  Au 
Stmjn  o'er  ht>  Head,  but  canaoc  inak  hi*  Slcept. 

I  MOKfinKi  thiidi  that  aem  blows  so  red 
Tlic  ttoso  H  wbcrc  tome  buried  C»ar  blcdt 

Tlut  eicry  Hjraciiub  the  G^cn  wcm 
Draft  in  ber  Lap  from  some  once  lotdy  HcmL 

And  thw  Rtitiag  Hnb  whote  undn  Grocn 
Ftcdgci  the  Rii«r-L^  on  which  wc  Inn — 
Ab,  Joan  «poa  it  ligbily  1   for  wbo  koows 
Fron  what  ooce  bvcly  Lip  it  tftftngs  uuseen  t 


M.BML  mn  Btt  im^ 
Have  duak.Am. 
Aad  one  by  cot  o^ 

And  we,  that  now  n 

Tbtj  left,  and  Sumn 

Ourselves  must  we 

Desceod— onnelTcs  t 

Ah,  inilce  the  most  i 

Before  we  too  into  d 

Dust  unto  Dust,  a 

S«M  Wiae,  not  Sonj 


Ah,  with  die  Grape  i 
And  wash  my  Body 
Aad  Ixf  me,  shroa 
By  some  not  iiafre<]ue) 

Yon  rising  Moon  that 

How  oft  hereafter  will 

How  oft  hereafter  r 

Tbroogli  this  same  Ga 

And  when  like  her,  0 
Among  the  Guests  sta 


.FRED  TENNYSON,  LORD  TENNYSON 


S9p, 


Mariana 


W/'ITH  blackcM  moM  tbe  Oowcr-plou 
^^      Were  thickly  cnuttd,  one  and  lUi 
Tbe  nstcd  nails  fell  froia  the  luiott 

Tlut  held  the  pear  to  the  gilile'-wil). 
Tbe  broken  iheds  look'il  ad  and  ttranget 
Unliltcd  was  the  ctinking  latcb; 
Wended  and  won  the  aacknt  thuch 
Upoo  the  kindjr  moMed  gnuigr. 

She  odf  Mid,  *My  life  is  dreary, 

He  comtth  ncA,'  she  uid; 

She  laid,  '  I  un  aweary,  aweary, 

I  would  that  I  were  dead  t ' 


■•09-ilt«i 


Her  tears  fcl]  with  the  dews  at  even; 

Her  tear*  fell  ere  the  dewK  were  dried; 
She  codd  DOC  tool;  on  the  swch  heaven. 

Either  at  mora  or  emitide. 
After  the  flittii^  of  the  hxis 

When  thickesi  dtik  ctid  tnnce  the  sky, 
Slic  drew  bcr  casctneot-curtain  by, 
Asd  glaaced  athwart  the  glooming  flats. 
Sbe  ooly  said,   'The  night  \\  dreary, 

He  comtth  not,'  she  uid; 

Sbe  said,  *I  am  aweary,  aweary, 

I  wodd  that  I  wetedcBdl' 

Upon  tb«  naddle  of  the  oight, 

WtkiDg  >he  heard  tbe  nigbt-fowl  aow: 
The  cock  timg  oui  aa  bour  en  Itgbti 

FnMB  tbe  dark  lea  the  oxm'a  low 

*9 


LORD  TENNYSON 


Came  to  her:   without  bope  of  dniqc^ 
la  slerp  she  sirem'd  tu  w*Ik   ioiloa, 
Til!  cold  winds  wuke  the  Etsy-<j«d 
About  the  lonely  moaied  gtange- 

She  only  said,  'The  day  ts  daarj, 

He  cometh  not,"  she  said; 

She  said,  '  I  am  aweary,  3v/^aj 

I  would  that  I  were  dead  .' ' 

About  a  biottC'Cast  from  the  wsU 

A  sluice  with  bbcVeo'd  waters  slepi^l 
And  o'er  it  many,   round  and  small. 
The  cluster'd  marish-niosse?  crept. 
Hard  by  a  poplar  shook  alwny, 
All  sil*er-grwii  with  gnarled  barkt 
For  leagues  oo  other  tree  did  mark 
The  level  waste,  the  rounding  gray. 
She  only  sad,  '  My  life  b  dreWf, 

He  cometh  not,'  she  said ; 
She  said,  '  I  am  aweary,  aweary. 


LORD  TENNYSON 


All  day  viAua  tbe  drexmy  tion-ve, 

Tbc  door*  upon  th«it  hinges  crtak'd  t 
Tbe  blae  Aj  nog  in  tlw  panr  i   tbe  moiue 
Behind  tbe  Bwoldering  waimcot  shrirk'd, 
Or  fteni  the  ocrice  pnr'd  about. 
Old  faces  {limnwT'd  thro'  ihc  doon, 
Old  foolReps  trod  Uie  opper  lloocs, 
Old  roins  oiTd  her  from  witbout. 

She  only  uid,   'Mjr  life  n  dievy, 

H«  Cometh  oot,*  tbe  ntd) 
8be  sold.  *I  am  aweary,  ttnagj, 
I  would  that  I  were  dead!' 

sparrow's  chirrup  oo  the  roof, 
Tbc  slow  dock  ticking,  uk)  the  sornid 
Which  to  ibc  wooing  wind  aloof 

Tbc  pof  lar  made,  did  all  confound 
Her  sensic  i  bw  moM  ibn  kiaihcd  the  hour 
When  tbe  liiick-tsoced  •tnbemi  lay 
Athwart  tbe  chambeta,  and  tbe  day 
Was  viopidg  toward  Us  weaiern  bower. 
Then,  said  she,  'I  am  *cry  drcj^, 

He  will  not  come,'  the  uid; 

She  wept,  '  I  am  awnry,  aweary, 

O  God,  that  I  were  drad  1 ' 

Tie  IM/  of  Sbahtt 

Fart  I 
/*\N  Htber  ride  tbc  rirrr  lie 
,  ^-^     Long  fields  of  barley  and  of  rye, 
I'Tbat  clothe  tbe  wold  and  meet  tbe  si^i 
And  tbro'  the  field  tbe  road  niB*  by 
To  many'iower'd  Cametoc; 


4 


Tbn'  tha  wm 
Bt  the  iiluid  i 

Fl 
Four  gny  wall 
Orerlook  ■  sps 
And  the  silent 

TI 

By  the  nutr^ 
Shde  the  heav] 
By  slow  horaei 
The  shallop  fli 

Sk 
But  who  hath 
Or  at  the  case 
Or  is  she  kno' 

Tl 

Only  reapers,  i 
In  among  the  I 
Hear  a  song  tl 
From  the  rivei 
D. 
And  by  the  m 
Piling  shea*e9 
ListeoinB.  whi; 


LORD  TENNYSON 


Paxt  n 

Thfiv  the  wevta  by  in^t  uxl  diy 
A  m^igic  web  wtU)  coloun  pj. 
Sb*  has  heard  a  lrhi<i«i  My, 
A  curte  b  on  her  if  ibr  stay 

To  look  dova  to  Cuncloi. 
Sbe  luKiws  Dot  whu  ibe  cune  nuy  b^ 
And  w  the  wUTrth  Ttt-tHily, 
And  liule  other  urc  hnii  she. 

The  Lady  of  Shilott. 

And  moriag  thro*  a  nurror  clear 
ThM  hiDgt  befoM  her  all  tbe  year, 
Sbkdowi  of  tbc  wofld  spfcar. 
There  the  acrr  ihc  highuray  near 

Wtodiag  down  to  Caaclotl 
There  the  riier  oddy  vrhirU, 
And  there  the  turiy  villagc-chwlt, 
Aitd  the  ted  cloAi  of  curket  girls, 

Past  ODwird  from  ShalotL 

SoiBriinxs  ■  Hoop  of  dmacb  glad, 
As  iUiM  oa  u  ambling  pad, 
SwMUBO  a  cnriy  ihefitieid'iadi 
Or  loog-baii'd  pa^ie  id  criiiKia  dad, 

Goes  by  to  towcr'd  Camdoit 
And  (ottKtiiim  thro'  the  mime  Une 
The  koights  come  riding  two  aad  two* 
She  haib  oo  loyal  knighi  aod  tnic, 

The  Lsdy  of  Sbaloo. 

Boc  h  ha  web  ihe  acai  deGghta 
To  wcavt  (be  mimr'i  mgic  tigbta, 


LORD  TENNYSON 


For  often  thro'  the  silcoi  night* 
A   funeral,  with  plumes  xai  lights. 

And  tnusic,  wetit  to  Cmdoc 
Or  when  the  moon  wus  owihcaii. 

Came  two  young  loTcre  lately   wed  i 
'I  am   half  sick  of  shadows,"  said 
The  hidy  of  Sh^ct. 

Part  IH 

A  bow-5lioi  from  her  bower-caTcs, 
He  rode  between  the  barlcy-shraves. 
The  sun  came  dazzling  thto'  the  leavrs, 
And  flamed  upon  the  braien  gresTCS 

Of  bold  Sir  Laocclot. 
A  rrd-crosa  knight  for  ever  kneel'd 
To  a  lady  in  his  shield, 
That  sparkled  on  ihc  yellow  field. 

Beside  remote  Shalotu 

The  gemmy  bridle  glitWr'd  free. 


I 


I 


LORD  TENNYSON 

A«  ofica  Uira'  tfae  papie  nrght, 
Below  the  narry  dmtcn  bright, 
Sooit  bcudtd  mctror,  iniling  Jight, 
MoTcs  over  niQ  Sbiioa. 

Hb  broad  cinr  brow  in  nmllfjlit  glowM  t 
On  bumUh'd  hoot«  his  wafhorw  irodci 
FnMU  ondaiMatb  hJi  hdmct  flow'il 
Hit  ewl-UKk  curl*  aa  oa  be  md*', 

Aa  h«  rode  down  to  Camclob 
Fnm  the  bank  *nd  from  the  river 
He  flxih'd  toto  the  crpul  mirror, 
•Tina  liira,'  by  ihe  river 

Sa^  Sir  LuMclot. 


I 


She  left  tbe  web,  afae  left  the  koiBt 
She  nude  thrte  paces  iluo'  the  room. 
She  saw  the  wjMr-Iiljr  blooa, 
She  Mw  the  hehtM  aad  tbe  phune, 

She  look'd  dovm  to  CuncloL 
Out  ftew  th«  web  aod  Seated  wide; 
The  minor  crack'd  rrom  tide  to  side; 

^'The  enrae  is  come  upon  n»e!'  aied 
The  Lady  of  Shalott. 
la 


Part  IV 


la  tbe  Rorni;  ea.it-viad  «tnining. 
The  pale  yeliow   woods  wrre  waning, 
The  brood  stream  in  \m  banks  coiDpiuiung, 
Heavily  the  low  tky  rainog 

0*«r  tower'd  Camelott 


a 


LORD  TENNYSON 

Down  she  c.ime  sad  found  »  hoxt 
Beneath  a  willow  left  afiart. 
And  round   ^ut  die  prow  she  wrrw 
Tie  LaJy  of  Shaklt. 

And  down  the  river's  dim  exfanse— 
Like  some  bold  seer  in  a  trance. 
Seeing  all  his  own  tmschance — 
With  a  glassy  countenance 

Did  she  look  to  Camelcn. 
And  ai  the  closing  of  the  day 
She  loosed  the  chain,  and  down  she  b|i 
The  broad  stream  bore  her  far  away, 

The  Lady  of  Shalott. 

Lying,  robed  in  snowy  white 
That  loosely  flew  to  left  and  right— 
The  leaves  upon  her  fnlJing  Bght — 
Thro"  the  noises  of  tbe  night 

She  floated  down  to  CarorWi 


LORD  TENNYSON 


Under  tower  ind  bilcoof , 

hj  gMdoi-wiD  and  g^lcry, 

A  gtnuniag  tkofe  she  ttMtrd  bf, 

Dr*d-]iale  bewttn  the  bouwi  t"gh, 

Sil«ni  into  Camcloc. 
Out  epofl  the  wharfs  ibcy  cantf, 
Knight  and  b(B|;brr,  lord  and  d.imc, 
And  round  the  jirow  they  rod  bn  nintc 

Who  i>  this.'  and  what  i>  here? 
A»d  in  the  lighted  pttbci;  ncv 
Dird  the  Mcnd  of  royal  chrrr ; 
And  they  crosi'd  thenuelvcs  f«  f«f. 

All  tbe  Juufbts  K  CmwImi 
BtA  Linceloc  imaed  «  Bitle  (paee; 
He  nkl,  'She  has  a  torcly  Ikc; 
Cod  in  His  macj  lend  her  gnce, 

The  Lady  of  Shalott.' 

Tie  Miller's  'Daughter 

TT  b  the  miller's  <tiieghter, 
^     Artd  she  is  {rown  w  dear,  so  dear, 
That  I  midd  be  tbe  jcvel 
That  trctnbtei  m  her  ear: 
For  hid  in  ringlets  day  and  ni^ht, 
rd  loucb  bcr  neck  so  warm  ud  white. 

And  I  would  be  the  gtidle 
About  bcr  dunty  dainty  waiit. 

And  her  heart  womM  beat  afpinst  me. 
In  scxTow  and  in  re«t: 

And  t  sboald  ktmw  if  it  beat  nfiht, 

rd  cla^  it  round  so  close  and  tight. 


LORD  TENNTBON 

And  1  would  be  ibe  nedsliee, 
And  all  diy  lor^  to  bU  wd  lite 

Upon  het  balmy  ttowra. 

With  her  laugbis  ar  her  sighs: 

And  I  -would  lie  so  light,  so  Gghi. 

I  scaree  ihouM  be  iincla|i^<l  «  ngbL 

"THIiRE  is  sweet  music  here  that  mJvi  &ii 
^      Tiuo  petils  from  blown  roKS  oa  the  p^ 
Or  Digbt-dewi  oti  still  wtfcts  between  walls 
Of  shadowy  £notte,  in  a  ^ttumag  jass  i 
Music  that  gentlter  od  the  spirit  Ikx, 
Than  tired  eyefids  upon  tired  eyt»i 
Music  that  brings  twcn  deep  down  from  the  VbaBi  i 
Here  are  cool  mattes  deq>, 
And  thro'  the  n»9S  the  mes  creeps 
Aod  in  the  suvasi  the  lon24ea*cd  ffowcrs  w«y^ 
And  frofn  the  craggy  ledge  the  poppjr  hogs  is 

Whj  ire  we  wcigb'd  vpio  with  bnriaesa, 

Aad  ucutIj-  coossncd  with  shvp  tfistress, 

While  all  things  else  bare  test  Cxxn  ««triacnf 

AU  Uui^s  hate  rest:  why  should  we  toil  ilca^ 

We  oikly  toil,  who  are  the  fint  of  ihtogs, 

And  suite  petfctuat  n>oiui. 

Still  from  one  sonow  to  anothcf  throws  t 

Kof  ever  fold  ow  wings, 

Ami  cease  fronn  wndctiopt 

Kor  sCeqi  ov  braws  b  ilnraber^  holy  hilm  | 

Nor  hatlien  what  the  inner  sfirit  sings, 

•  There  is  do  joy  b«  cahn  I  '— 

Why  should  we  ooJy  toil,  the  roof  and  cn^wn  of  i 


LORD  TENNYSON 

Lo  I  fa)  tlie  Biiddte  of  the  wood, 

The  folded  I<af  b  woo'd  from  oat  the  bud 

With  wiods  upon  fhe  branch,  and  iticn* 

Grow*  gmn  >a<l  broKl,  aad  ukvs  iw  cire, 

Sun-Kinp'd  u  noon,  ocd  in  the  mooo 

Nightly  dew-M;  uid  tBraipg  yellow 

FaO«,  aad  floou  kdown  tbe  lir. 

L«  I  swMim'd  with  tbe  aanmMr  light, 

The  fuU-juiced  a|iple,  waxing  o*ef«ndIow, 

Drops  b  a  nlenl  autnmi  night. 

All  iis  allotted  Imgib  of  days, 

The  Bower  HpcM  in  its  \i»n, 

Ripcm  aad  fades,  and  fills,  and  hath  no  toil, 

Fut-rooted  in  the  fruitful  lotl. 

HattAI  ia  tbo  daHi-blue  sky, 

Vanked  o*«r  the  dark'blne  sea. 

Dctah  n  the  end  of  life;  di,  vhj 

Should  life  aU  labour  bc> 

Let  us  aloee.    Tme  drinth  oavanl  fast. 

And  ID  a  tiitle  while  our  lip*  are  dumb. 

Let  us  alone.     What  i!i  it  that  wilt  ixsti 

AU  things  arc  taken  from  us,  and  become 

PortioDS  aod  pMCcIs  of  the  dmdfiil  P^^x. 

Let  OS  alooe.     What  pleasure  can  w>e  have 

To  mx  with  eril !     U  there  any  pnce 

la  ever  cfimbing  up  the  climliiDg  wate.' 

AU  thioES  ha*c  test,  sad  ripen  toward  the  gme 

In  bIcdoc  t  lipen,  laU  aad  cease  i 

Gite  us  long  rest  or  death,  daric  death,  or  dreamful  easr> 

How  &weet  it  woe,  beariog  the  downward  Hmim, 
Vntb  haU-shvt  eyes  ever  to  seem 


LORD  TENNYSON 

Fallbg  aslee[i  in  a  half-dream  ! 

To  dream  and  dri'am,   like  yoadrr  amber  tig;b^ 

Which  will  not  leave  the  myrrfa-bu^  on  tbc 

To  hear  each  other's  whisjier'd  sjicccb  t 

liaiing  ihc   Lotos  day  by   day, 

To  watch  lie  crispbg  rijiplcs  on  the  beach, 

And   tender  curving   lines  of  creamy   spiaj  | 

To  lend  our  hearts  aod  spiiits   wholly 

To  the  influence  of  mild-rainded  mcUocholy ; 

To  muse  and  brood  snd  live  again   in  maDotyk 

Witli  those  old  faces  of  our  infancy 

Heap'd  over  with  a  mound  of  gr^ss. 

Two  handfuls  of  while  dual,  shut  in  an  utn  of  1 


Dear  is  the  memory  of  our  wedded   lives. 

And  dear  tlve  last  embraces  of  our   wivu 
And  their  warm  tears :    but  all  hath  suifeiVJ  ca 
For  surdy  now  our  bou^cbuld  bc^inli^  ut  coid: 
Our  sons  inhcril   us:   our   looks  arc  strange; 
And  we  should  come  like  ghosts  to  uoublc  joy. 

r~t.    .1--   .1.-   :-i — 1    — : ^ 1 — •-* 


LORD  TENKVSON 


(,  |iiD]it  DB  beds  of  manuMh  aad  tnoljr, 

JV  (kvct  (whik  wunn  ain  lull  us,  bJowiog  kiwlj) 

nil  lulf-drofK  cydkts  itUI, 

DuJi  a  bcaven  daik  »ad  boly, 

I  waich  tbc  long  bngbt  river  dnwiog  ilovlf 

i*  wiiicrt  frooi  the  purple  hill— 

)  bcu  ihe  devy  echoc*  cJluig 

ont  caie  to  cave  thro'  the  ibick-twiatd  line— 

I  waich  the  cisFr«ld>colouf'd  water  falliag 
tro*  nunjr  a  wov'n  m&chui^wTtatb  divine! 

lijr  10  brai  and  ice  the  Cir-otF  ^J>*[lding  brtne, 

lly  to  beu  ««fc  sweei,  suetcb'd  out  boioxth  the  lane. 

tc  Lotos  bloomi  liclow  tlie  tttrrm  peak: 
W  Lou*  blowi  by  eiety  winding  creek; 

II  dtj  the  wind  bcuihes  low  with  mellower  lone: 
vo'  cKfy  hollow  caie  aod  alley  lone 

Mmd  and  lorad  the  ipicjr  dowot  the  yellow  Loios^uit  t* 

blown, 
c  htye  bad  coough  of  action,  and  of  motion  we, 
>U'd  to  >taif>ovd,  roU'd  to  larbotnl,  when  the  surge  wa> 

tecthiqg  fne, 
'here  ibe  wallowing  monster  spouitd  his  luafn-fountuas  in 

the  sea. 
K  u  sweu  an  oath,  and  kee^  it  with  an  c^ual  niind, 
the  botlow  LucDo-Und  to  li<c  and  lie  reclined 
n  the  billv  tike  Gods  logcihcr,  careless  <»f  nunkind. 
IT  tbey  lie  bciidc  their   nccui,  and  the  boltn  arc  butl'd 
V  bdow  tbem  in  the  valleys,  and  the  cioods  are  U^uly 

curl'd 
Dund  their  goldea  houses,  giidlcd  with  the  gleanaag  worid  : 
'here  they  smile  in  secret,  looking  over  wastod  lands, 
i|ht  nd  fonine,  pli^uo  and  earthquake,  routog  dec|»  and 


LORD  TENNYSON 

Clangiog  lights,  and  flaming  towns,  md  anlung  d^l 

praying  hands. 
But  they  smile,  they  fiod  a  raosic  ccnocd  in  a  doUJJ 
Steaming  up,  a  lamentaiion  and  an  ancient  tale  </ 1 
Like  a  talc  of  little  meaning  tbo'  the  words  an 
Chanied  from  an  i!l'used  tact  of  men  that  dnf 
Sow  the  seed,  and  reap  the  harvest  with 
Storing  yearly  lilde  dues  of  wheat,  and  wine  iml  ail: 
Till  they  perish  and  they  sulfei — some,  'tis  whi^ier'4 

in  heU 
Suffer  endless  anguish,  others  in  Elystan  valleys 
Resting  weary  limbs  at  last  on  beds  of  asihoiA 
Surely,  surely,  slumber  is  more  sweet  than  toil,  tbr 
Than  labour  in  the  deep  mid-ocean,  wind  2nd  waie  at 
O  rest  ye,  brother  mariners,  we  will  oot  vioder 


70J.  St,  Jgnes'  Eve 

'PXEEP  on  the  eonrent-roof  the  snows 
'~'      Are  sparklina  to  the  iboob: 


LORD  TENNYSON 

As  tbii  |iak  taper's  urthly  spile, 

To  yooAtr  argtnt  nxiai] ; 
80  ibovrs  my  wul  before  ihe  Laml\ 

My  spirit  befon  Tbeei 
So  in  Bibe  earthly  Iioiim  I  im. 

To  tiut  I  hope  to  be. 
'  Break  np  ibe  heaTeiu,  O  Lord !   ood  hi. 

Thro'  all  yoa  tuHigh;  kern, 
Dnw  me,  thy  bride,  a  glittering  sur, 

Id  niiaent  white  and  dean. 


H«  lifu  me  to  the  gotden  doon) 

The  dashes  come  asd  go; 
Alt  beaten  bursts  her  stuiy  floors, 

And  rtrows  ber  lights  below, 
And  deepen*  on  aod  up  I    the  gates 

Roll  back,  and  fu  within 
Foe  me  the  Heavenly  Bridegrootn  waits, 

To  make  tnc  pure  of  Mn. 
The  obbathi  of  litemiiy, 

One  t^>bath  drtj-  and  wide — 
A  tight  upos  the  shinbg  sea — 

The  BridegrooQ)  with  his  bride  1 


ff/ow.  Bugle,  blwB 


'T'HE  i|4o>dovr  Taits  on  castle  walls 
^       And  sDOwy  summits  old  in  noryi 
The  long  lijtht  ihakn  acimi  the  lakes. 
And  the  wild  otanict  lops  m  i^ty. 
Blow,  bi^le,  blow,  set  the  wiM  echoes  flying, 
DW,  bu^;   aonrcr,  cchoo,  during,  dying,  dying. 
le  *H 


LORD  TEhWYSON 

O  hark,  O  hc3r !    how  thin  and  dtn. 
And  ihioDcr,  dearer,  futhei  gnng) 
O  swt¥t  lad  far  from  diif  and  scar 
The  homs  of  Elfland  faintly  bloviif  1 
Blow,  !«  us  hear  ibc  puqile  glens  replying; 
Blow,  bugle ;    answer,  echoes,  dying,  dying,  ia^ 

O  love,  they  die  in  yon  rich  sty, 

They  faint  on  hill  or  field   ai  tivd : 
Our  echoes  roll  from  loui  to  soul. 
And  grow  for  ever  and  for  ervr. 
Blow,  bugle,  blow,  sei  the  wild  echoes  flj'ii^ 
And  answer,  echoes,  answer,  dying,  dyti%  ija^ 


70f.  Summer  Ni^t 

\1  OW  sleejjs  the  crimson  petal,  now  the  < 
■*■  "      Nor  waves  the  cypress  in  the  paliB  ' 

Nor  winks  the  gold  fin  in  the  porphyry  fcot: 
The  firefly  wakens:    waken  thou  with  ntc 


LORD  TENNYSON 


70S. 


Cbmf  Jbwn,  O  MaiJ 


I 


/^^OME  down,  O  nn*d,  from  yoedcf  niouiMnn  linghli 

^-*    What  lilnsurc  livrs  in  height  (ihc  sbqilMrd  MOg), 

la  hngkt  md  cold,  the  i]ilc&ilour  of  the  hiliif 

Buc  ctaM  to  onoTc  m  near  the  HcavcMt  and  «M«e 

To  gEde  a  ambeun  by  Um  Uuttd  Pik^ 

To  Kit  a  aur  u|>(m  the  tpatUing  spire; 

And  consr,  far  Loic  ia  of  the  laltcy,  conr. 

For  Xjvk  t»  of  the  Tallcy,  come  thoD  dnwn 

And  find  him;   by  ihe  happy  thivthold,  he^ 

Or  hasd  in  hand  with  PIcny  la  d>c  nuiic, 

Or  rrd  with  )^<iited  par^  of  ihr  vni», 

Or  foxlik«  in  ibe  viae;   nor  cares  to  walk 

With  Death  and  Moroias  oa  the  silver  hotos, 

Nor  w3(  l]>ou  snare  him  in  the  white  ravine, 

Nw  find  him  dropt  upon  the  firths  of  ice, 

That  huddling  ilint  in  furrow-cloven  falls 

I'o  roll  the  bsirrcnt  out  of  dubky  doors ; 

Biit  follow;  kt  the  tOTfcoi  dance  thee  down 

To  find  hiro  in  the  valley ;   let  the  vnid 

LeaB-beaded  Eagles  yHp  akme,  aiid  leave 

The  monstrous  ledge*  there  to  slope,  and  spQI 

Tbrir  iboosand  wreaths  of  dangling  wBter>smolce^ 

That  like  a  broken  puipoK  waste  in  air: 

So  wane  not  tboo;    but  cocie;    for  all  the  vales 

Aw4it  thee;   azure  pillars  of  the  hcanh  <a 

Ariv  to  thee;    the  children  call,  and  I 

Thy  ibepberd  fipe,  >nd  sweet  is  every  vnmd, 

Sweeer  thy  voice,  bm  every  sotind  ii  twm ; 

Mytiadii  of  rivulets  hwrying  thro'  the  lawn, 

']'be  moan  of  dorcv  in  immrMOrial  dmi^ 

And  muHDwing  of  iaeauBenble  bees. 


LORD  TENNYSON 
707.  Ftvm  '  In  Manoriam  * 

(aRTHUS  HENSt  BAIXAM,   KDCtXSXna) 
I 

T7AIR  ship,  tbat  from  the  loEaa  s^or 
*•        Sailcst  the  placid  ocean-plains 

With  my  lost  Anhut's   loml  imuoo, 
Spread  thy  full  wiofs,   and  wafi  him  o'a. 

So  draw  him  home  to  those  that  mmini 
In  T:iin ;    «  favourable  speed 
Riirtk  Uiy  mirror 'd  nust,  and  lad 

Thro'  prosperous  Soods  his  holy  um. 

All   night  no  ruder  mr  peiplcx 

Tby  s!idiii£  keel,  till  Phosfiof,  bti^ 
As  our  pure  love,  thro'  early  light 

Shall  glimmer  od  tbc  deury  decks. 

Sphere  all  your  lights  aniand,  above; 
•Sleen.   PCDtte  heamuL  hefbie  ihe 


I 


LORD  TENNVSON 

DU  bring'st  the  uilor  ta  bia  tnfe, 
And  traieU'd  roea  hwa  {anigtt  Uadi  i 
Asd  letun  unto  trcmblioi;  handi) 
lAnd,  ibj  dalk  frrighl,  a  mnish*cl   life. 

[So  bring  him:    we  hate  idle  dftainsi 
This  look  of  (^uiM  Ibtien  tfa» 
Our  bo«K-b<vd  Uadni  O  to  us. 
The  fools  of  tubil,  iweeter  iMiitt 

To  rest  branth  the  clovrr  tod, 

I'hat  iakn  tbe  Hnshioe  aod  the  raim, 
Or  where  the  kaeelittg  hamlet  dnia* 

The  chalice  of  the  grapes  of  God  i 

^Than  if  wiih  thee  the  rooitng  wells 
Should  giolf  him  bihom-deep  in  hrioei 
Agd  baixis  so  oliea  clxsp'd  in  mine, 
Should  toss  with  tangle  and  with  shells. 


^  ni 

Calm  if  the  norn  withoiu  a  sound, 

ICalaa  as  lo  suit  a  calmer  grief. 
And  only  thro'  tbe  faded  leaf 
The  cbcMMit  pttenog  to  the  groood: 
Calm  4Dd  drqi  peace  on  thia  high  woid. 
And  on  these  dews  that  dmich  the  fiim-. 
And  all  the  silTcry  gossamers 
Thai  twinkle  into  grten  and  gold : 

Calm  and  still  light  on  jron  great  fbin 

That  (weep*  with  all  its  autumn  bowen. 
And  crowdrd  fmu%  and  leatcning  towers. 
To  miiigle  with  the  bouttliag  naini 


LORD  TENNYSON 

Calm  and  deep  poKC  b  tfaia  wide  nr, 
Thi:«e  leaves  that  redden  to  the  &II ; 
And  is  my  heart,  if  calm  it  all. 

If  any  caJm,  a  aim  despair: 

Calm  on  the  seas,  and  silTer  sleet>. 

And  waves  that  sway  tfaemselTes  'a  iw, 
And  dead  cabn  m  that  doUc  bicast 

Which  heaves  bnt  with  the  hcaviog  deepu 

IT 

To-ni^ht  the  winds  be|:in  to  rise 

And  roar  from  yonder  droj^ng  day : 
The  last  red  leaf  is  irtiirl'd  away, 

Till-  rooks  are  blown  about  the  skies ; 

The  forest  crack'd,  the  waters  cnri'd. 
The  cattle  huddled  on  the  lea; 
And  wildly  dash'd  on  tower  and  tree 

Tlir  sunbeam  strikes  along   the  world : 


LORD  TI-NNySON 


I 

I 


I 


Thoa  eemtvt,  much  w«()t  (on   such  ■  breeu 
Conipcird  lliy  caoru,  and  mj  prajrer 
Ww  u  tbe  whisper  of  ui  atr 

To  bfcMlie  ihec  otct  looely  mssl 

For  I  in  tprit  kiw  iIim  morr 

Thro'  circles  of  the  bounding  skfi 
Work  sflcr  wcrk ;   the  diys  go  b]r : 

Come  quick,  thou  bringrfi  all  I  lore. 

HcncFronh.  wbcmn  tliou  mayst  nmni 
My  blessinit,  bkc  a  line  of  light, 
I)  Da  the  wattn  day  and  night, 

And  like  a  beacon  guardt  ihec  home. 

So  nay  whsteTcr  tanpMt  ittua 

Mid-ooean,  tjatt  Om,  sacred  harfct 
And  balmy  drops  in  sununer  dark 

Slide  from  tlie  bosocn  of  die  stars. 

So  kind  an  office  hath  been  done, 

Such  precMus  relics  brou^c  by  tlx«i 
I'he  du«t  of  him  I  «hall  not  tee 

Till  all  mj  widow'd  race  be  nio. 

vc 
Now,  sometimes  in  my  sorrow  shut, 
Or  bmking  into  song  by  lits, 
*  Alone,  alone,  lo  where  he  sits. 

The  Shadow  cloak'd  from  bttd  to  feot, 

Wlio  keep  the  keys  of  all  the  creeds, 
I  «-ander,  often  falling  bme. 
And  loofciiq  back  to  whence  I  came, 

Or  on  (o  iritn*  (be  pacfawajr  iMdSj 


LORD  TENNYSON 

And  crying.  How  changni  irom  vhexc  a  no 
Thra'  lands  where  not  a  leaf  vis  dtmbl 
But  all  the  kiUh  hills  would  bum 

The  muiTOur  of  b  happ;  Pan: 

When  each  by  torna  wis  guide  to  each, 

And   Fancy  Kgbl  from   Fmkj  caogb^^ 
And  Thought  l^apt  out  to  wed  wiih  T 

Ere  Thought  could  wed  itKlf  with  Spceck) 

And  all  we  met  was  fair  and  good, 

And  all  was  good  that  Time  coold  tra^ 
And  all   the  secret  of  the  Spring 

Moved  in  the  chambtn  of  the  blood ; 

And  many  on  old  jihilosophy 

On  Argive  heights  diiinely  ang, 
And  round  us  ail  the  thi<j:et  rang 

To  many  a  flute  of  Aicsdj. 


TO 


LORD  TENNYSON 

If  such  •  diURiy  touch  slxwid  UL, 

O  van  tluv  round,  motrc  the  do«bC{ 
M;  guardiia  angel  will  sf«ak  OW 

In  th«t  high  liKt,  iml  tdl  ihrc  all. 

The  wi4.  ihxt  of  ibe  liTing  whob 

No  tifc  miiy  fail  bryond  tfa*  paWi 
Dcrim  it  not  front  whM  wv  hin 

The  likot  Cod  wiibia  the  soul  i 

Are  God  ud  Nature  then  M  itrift, 

That  NatoR  tmtb  such  ertl  dreams  F 
So  careful  of  the  type  she  leems, 

So  orelew  of  the  single  life  i 

TbM  I,  coflsiilnioB  CTerywbere 

Her  iecTft  tneaning  io  bn  deeds, 
And  finding  ilrat  of  lifiy  teedi 

She  oAco  briags  but  one  to  bear, 

I  &lier  where  I  firmly  trod. 

And  fallifig  with  my  weight  of  caret 
Upon  the  great  world's  altar-waiis 

That  slope  thro'  dackora  up  to  Cod, 

I  otmcii  bnx  hands  of  faith,  and  grope. 
And  pther  dust  and  chalT,  aad  call 
To  wfcat  I  fed  b  Lord  of  all. 

And  faintly  mat  the  larger  hope. 

IX 

*8e  nrrfiil  of  the  lypa'*  W  ao. 

Pram  scaq^  dif  and  quarritd  siom 
She  crie^  'A  thouaied  types  arc  gooei 

I  ore  foir  nothing,  a))  shall  go. 

IC  J  *«• 


LORD  TENNYSOM 

Thou  makest  thine  afpad  10  me : 

1  bring  to  life,  I  briag  to  dmht 
Tb«  spirit  docs  but  mean  the  btmfa: 

I  know  no  more'     And  hc^  sh^  be, 

Man,  her  last  work,  who  scem'd  so  finr, 
Such  sjilendid  ptupose  in  his  cyts. 
Who  rcii'd  the  psaEni  to  winuy  sUes, 

Who  built  him  fanes  of  fruitless  ^ja, 

Who  trusted  God  was  love  indeed 
And  love  Creation's  fiiul   law — 
Tbo'  Nature,  red  in  tooth  and  tiam 

With  ravine,  sbtiek'd  against  fais  creed — 

Who  loved,  who  suffrr'd  couDlless  iQs 
Who  battled  for  the  True,   the  .lust. 
Be  blown  about  the  desen  dust, 

Or  seal'd  wiibin  the  iron  hills ! 

No  more  ?    A  monster  then,  a  dieam, 
A  discord.     Dragons  of  the  ptime^ 


I 


LORD  TENNYSON 

UdIovkI,  Uk  tunflowtT,  thiaiog  fair, 

Ray  rousd  with  ftwm  Ikt  disk  of  wmI, 
And  KHUty  ■  rooe-catBitioii  feed 

With  Musmer  ipiee  the  hnnmiog  air; 

Uolovod,  by  many  a  landy  bar, 

Tbc  brook  ^all  babble  down  tlie  j4*in, 
At  Dooa  or  when  the  icuc«  wiia 

1m  twiffag  tomtd  the  polar  cui ; 

Uncared  for,  gird  the  windy  groie, 

Aod  Sood  the  hauota  of  litfro  •lad  cnLci 
Of  into  ulver  arrowii  hitalt 

The  Milb(>  mooo  in  cndc  and  cove; 

Till  rrain  th«  garden  and  the  wild 

A  fresh  association  blow, 

And  year  by  year  ihc  bfldsuipc  grow 
FanriUtf  to  the  Unnger's  child; 

Ai  year  by  year  the  labourer  tills  I 

His  wooLed  glebe,  oe  lops  the  gladtsi 
And  year  by  year  our  memory  &dei 

From  all  tbc  circle  of  the  hilU. 


Now  Udes  the  last  long  streak  of  wow, 
Now  burgeoas  crery  maxe  of  ijuick 
AboM  the  flowering  squares,  and  thick 

By  aahd  roots  the  violets  blow. 

Mow  rings  the  woodbod  loud  and  loo^ 
The  dtstaMc  take*  a  lorelier  hue. 
And  drowo'd  b  yonder  liiing  blue 

The  Lark  becomes  a  Hghilets  xxig. 

Ma 


LORD  TENNYSOK 

Now  danw  ihe  liglits  on  Itwn  wad  In, 
The  Aocks  tan  whiter  down  itie  rjle, 
Aad  nitkier  cTifry  mUky  sad 

On  winding  Hmtn  or  disnou  9Mi 

Wberc  now  ilic  scuncw  pipcEi  or  dim 
In  yondet  gnxtnag  glrjm,  ud  % 
The  happy  birds,  that  clunge  ilieir  »kf 

To  build  aod  brood)  that  Etc  their  lito 

From  land  to  land;  and  b  vaj  breait 
Spring  wakens  too;  aad  mjp  rcgm 
Becomes  an  April  violet. 

And  bud$  sad  blouoms  like  tbe  mb 


XII 

Lore  h  aod  was  my  Lord  and  Kitigi 
Aod  in  his  prcMAco  I  attead 
To  h«ar  tlie  tidings  of  nny  friend, 

Wliich  every  bowr  bis  coutien  bring. 

Love  is  and  was  my  King  and  Lon^ 
And  will  be,  tho'  as  yet  I  keeji 
Within  bis  coutt  on  earth,  and  tieef 

Encompou'd  by  bis  Gtilbfiil  {iwd. 

And  hear  at  lirnc*  ■  sentinel 

Who  moTes  about  from  plaoe  to  pUeCi 
And  whisper?  to  the  worlds  of  sfux, 

to  the  deep  night,  tlut  all  n  wdL 


•m 


LORD  TENIO'SON 


MauJ 


I 


COME  JMo  the  gudcn,  Maud, 
For  ihv  black  fax,  Kighi,  hu  flows, 
[  Cor&e  into  the  gardm,  M«ud, 

I  am  hrrt  K  the  £b1c  alone; 
And  the  wooiniinr  sjiicn  are  wafted  abioail, 
And  the  mink  of  the  roxs  blcnro. 

For  a  brenc  of  nMrnlnfr  TnOTcS, 
And  tbe  plaort  of  Lotc  U  on  high, 

Bcgnnig  to  faint  ia  the  light  that  she  lovc« 
Ob  a  bed  of  dailbdil  tky, 

To  £iant  in  the  light  of  tlw  sun  sbe  loi<r«, 
To  fxint  in  \m  light,  and  W  die. 

Alt  nigbt  haie  tbe  v:ffKi  heard 

The  flute,  tiolin,  banoon ; 
All  night  has  tbe  dKnxmt  JMumloc  ftirr'd 

To  the  dancers  dancing  in  tane; 
Till  a  sikoce  fell  with  the  waking  bird, 

And  a  bush  with  tbe  sctuitg  moon. 

I  Mid  to  the  liljr,  'There  it  but  one 

With  whom  she  lus  heart  to  be  gay, 
\Vheo  will  the  dancers  Irare  her  aloor! 

She  b  wrary  of  dance  and  pbiy-' 
Nov  half  to  ibc  teuiog  mooe  are  gone, 

And  half  to  the  rinng  day ; 
Low  on  tbe  suid  and  loud  on  the  stone 

Tbe  last  wheel  echoes  away. 

I  aid  to  the  rose,  'The  farief  night  goe« 
In  babble  and  revel  and  wine. 


LORD  TENNYSON 

O  young  lord-lover,  what  sighs  are  thosr 
For  one  thai  wiU  never  be  thine  ? 

But  mine,   but  mine,'  so  I   sware  to  the  re*", 
'  For  ever  aad  ever,  mine.' 

And  the  soul  of  the  rose  went  into  my  Hood. 

As  the  music  clash'd  in  the  hall ; 
And  long  by  the  garden  lake  I  stcxxl, 

For  I  heard  your  rivulet  fall 
FiQm  the  lake  to  the  meadow  attd  oa  Ut  the; 

Our  wood,  that  is  deaier  than  all; 

From  the  meadow  your  walks  have  left  so 
That   whenever  a  Marcli-wind   sighs 

He  sets  the  jewel-print  of  your  fcei 
In  violets  blue  as  your  eyes, 

To  the  woody  hollows  io  which  we  tatrx. 
And  the  valieys  of  Paradise. 

The  slender  acacia  would  oot  shake 
One  lone  railk-Uoom  on  the  met 


LORD  TENNVSON 

Thm  lui  filkn  a  aplmdid  tnr 

From  the  (UHoo-flawcr  u  the  guc. 
She  n  coming,  mjr  dove,  my  dcsr; 

Sbr  b  cominjb  my  lific,  my  fate; 
Tlic  ml  roM  erica,  *  She  b  at»t,  she  Is  wv ; ' 

And  tlie  white  rose  weepa,  *  She  is  late ) ' 
The  larksfwr  liMens,  '  1  liear,  I  hear  t ' 

Aod  the  Uly  whispers,  *I  WL' 

She  is  coming,  my  own,  my  sweet  i 

I     Were  it  ever  so  airy  a  tread. 
My  heart  woold  hear  her  and  beat. 
Were  ii  earth  in  an  earthy  bed ; 
My  dun  would  hear  her  and  bcu. 
Had  I  bis  foe  a  century  dead ; 
WimU  Mart  and  tremble  under  he*  feet, 

70p.  O  that  'twere  possible 

r\  THAT  'twere  poaiiUr 
^^      After  long  grief  and  fain 
To  find  the  arms  of  my  true  lore 
Round  me  oece  again  I  .  .  . 

A  shadow  Siu  before  rae, 
4ot  cbou,  but  lilie  to  thee: 
fAb,  ChrisEl    thai  k  were  posMble 
For  one  short  hour  to  see 
The  sools  we  tored,  that  they  nught  tdl  ns 
Whit  and  where  they  be  I 


RICHARD  MONCKTON  RHLNES, 
LORD  HOUGHTON 

yio.  Shadows 

'T'HEY  BWm'd,  to  those  wlio  saw  than 
■^       The  casual  friends  of  every   diy; 
Her  smile  was  uadisturbM  snd  swcM, 
His  courtesy  was  free  and  gay. 


But  yet  if  ooe  the  odier's  name 
In  some  unguarded  momcnE  hrard. 

The  heart  you  thought  so  calm  and  lamr 
Would  siiuggle  like  a  captured  biidt 

And  letters  of  mere  fonnal  phosc 

Were  blister'd  with  repealed  tears, — 
And  this  was  not  the  work  of  days, 


n.-.  ^-J 


„_.  —  t^~ 


HENRY  ALFORD 
Tit.  The  Bride 

^DISE,*  nid  the  Ma»er,  'come  iaiu>  the  fnu.' 
L*^^    Sbc  beard  the  call  and  ro*c  with  willing  fctti 

But  ikiaking  it  nal  oihcnris«  than  meet 
^or  soch  ■  bidding  w  put  on  ht-i  best. 
i>  gone  from  us  Tor  a  few  &hort  boun 
Idlo  bor  bndal  closet,  tlicrc  to  wait 
For  the  mfolding  o)'  the  )>alace  gue 

{i<n  hiet  ctHnnce  lo  the  blissful  bowcn. 
?e  haie  not  Men  Im  yn,  though  we  hsiv  bnn 

Pull  often  to  her  chamber  dour,  tad  oA 
!■*«  Ii»tei)'d  uDdctneath  the  pwtcra  grcca, 
And  Laid  fresh  flowers,  and  whiipct*d  sbon  lad  wfi. 
she  hath  nnde  do  answer,  axui  the  day 
the  dcai  west  is  Tiding  fsH  tway. 


nz. 


SIR  SAMUEL  FERGUSON 
Cean  Duhh  'Declhb 


iSto-iRtt 

four  bead,  daiKng,  dniing,  darling, 
Your  darling  bl»ck  be^  my  heart  above  t 
O  mouth  of  honey,  with  thyme  fot  fnigrMu;e, 
Who,  wHh  hcaii  in  bnaal,  could  deny  you  loic? 

O  many  and  many  a  youi^  pA  for  me  b  pnnog, 
Letting  ha  locks  of  gold  to  the  cohl  wtod,  free, 

Fot  me,  the  foremost  of  our  gay  young  fellows ; 
But  I'd  Icate  a  hondted,  pure  Iotc,  for  thee ! 

7>j.  C*m  AM  ditJMi  dsHinc  Uack  bead. 


SIR  SAMUEL  FERGUSON 

Then  put  yout  head,  darling,  dirlmg,  dirlieg, 
Your  darling  black  head   my   hcait  aboit , 

O  mouth  of  honey,  with  ihyme  for  fragniiice. 
Who,  with  heart  b  breast,  could  deny  jm 


713.  Cashel  of  Mimster 

FROK   THE   tXISI 

T'D  wed  you  without  herds,  withoui  money  or 

And  I'd  wed  you  on  a  dewy  morn  u.  day-dii 
My  bitter  woe  it  is,   love,  that  we  are  doc  fu  twtj 
In  Cashel  town,  iho'  the  hare  deal  board  were  our  1 

bed  this  day! 

O  fair  maid,   remember  the  green   hi!l-s!dc. 
Remember  how  1  hunted  about  the  valleys  wide ; 
Time  now  has  worn  me ;    my  locks  arr  ninM  to 
The  year  is  scarce  and  I  am  poor — but  $end  me  iMt,  | 

away ! 

O  deem  not  my  blood  is  of  base  strain,  ray  ^t 


r 


SIR  SAMUEL  FERGUSON 


714.      The  Fair  Hills  of  frelanj 

fmOM   THE  UUSH 
PLENTEOUS  place  a  Trebnd  for  hospiuUt  diwr, 
irdt^am  Ml,  Of 
niCR  tbe  wbotctome  ihiit  b  bondnj   from  ihc  ycUow 

febKky  ev; 
Uilratm  JM,  Ot 
t  it  honey  ia  ibe  uws  where  her  mhXf  wles  expand, 
mA  ber  fotm  patli^  in  summer  v*  by  t)X\mg  -trtxtn  fuo'd, 
tiete  it  dew  at  hi^  noontide   tbm^   Hid  ^>ria^  i'  the 

rlow  nod, 
Co  the  (ut  bills  o/  holy  IteUod. 

wrd  he  i*  mmI  ringlcied,  and  pinted  to  tbe  knee— 

■ch  certain  wbo  come*  uiGnj  across  tbe  Irish  Sea; 
I  UH^M  JM  Of 

ad  I  win  make  my  jwinwy,  if  life  and  bulth  but  siaod, 
'mo  that  pleaunt  ci>tiDtiy,  that  halt  asd  Tngraat  stnad, 
jtd  leave   your  boosted   bniTetirt,   your  wraith  and   high 
coBunand, 

»For  Uie  faif  hiUs  <tf  boly  Ireland. 
and  profitable  are  the  Macks  upoo  the  £rauDd, 
Uilfotim  JM  0  .' 
be  butter  and  the  crc^im  do  wonilrviMly  abotmdt 

t/;/MM«  JM  01 
he  cresses  oa  the  wattr  and  tbe  sorreli  are  at  band, 
nd  ibe  cockoo  's  cUling  diily  his  note  of  motic  bland, 
ad    the  bold    duuth   sings   so  brarely  htt    song  i'   the 
fontu  gnnd, 

a  hills  of  holy  IkIjikL 


ROBERT  BROWNING 
7if.  Song  fnm  '  Parate/suj' 

T_I  GAP  cassia,  sandal-bnds  taid  suije* 
'  *      Of  labdanum,  and  aloe-balls, 
Smi;ar'd  with  dull  naid  3D   Indian   wifcs 
From  out  her  hair :    such  balsam  iaSh 
DowD  sea-side  maunlnjn  pcdesuls, 
From  tree-tops  where  rired  urinds  aiv  In^ 
Spent  with  Uie  vast  and   howlbg  mua, 
To  treasure  half  their  island-gain. 

And  strew  faJnt  sweetness  from  fOme  M 

IiEypiian's  fine  worm-iateii  shroud 

Which  breaks  to  dust  wheti  once  unroU'dt 

Or  shredded  perfume,  lilse  a  cloiid 

From  closet  long  to  qtiict  vow'd. 

With  moih'd  and  dropping  arrss  huog, 

MouldcriD^  her  lute  and  books 


ROBERT  BROWNING 


To  bev  the  playfiil  billows*  game; 
So,  each  good  xbip  was  nide  to  ter. 
Rode  asd  bare  to  the  octward  new, 

But  each  «qibof«  a  uatcljr  tent 
Wbere  ct<br  palM  ia  sccDled  row 
Kept  oui  the  Aakcf  of  the  duicing  brine, 
And  an  avning  droo|t'd  the  mut  below. 
In  Ibid  00  fold  of  the  purple  line. 
That  neither  nooaiide  nor  Kar-shtiw 
Nor  moooliglit  cold  which  nukcth  nad. 

Might  pierce  the  regal  teKOMM. 
Whtn  th«  im  dawn'd,  O,  ga/  aad  glid 
W«  Kt  ilie  sail  ud  plied  ibc  oatj 
But  when  the  night-wind  blew  like  bftuh, 
For  joy  of  one  dajr's  toyage  more, 
W«  amg  tO][etli«T  oa  ibe  wide  tea, 
Like  nCD  u  poKC  aa  a  pucefitl  shoie  i 
Encb  Mi]  was  loowd  lo  tbe  wind  so  firve. 
Each  helm  mule  sure  by  the  twilight  tur, 
And  in  a  sleep  as  calm  »  datli. 
We,  tbe  toyagets  from  afar, 

Lay  tuciicb'd  along,  each  wnry  crew 
In  a  circle  nmnd  iia  wondrous  tent 
\Vh«oe  glean'd  mA  light  and  curl'd  rich  setnt. 

And  with  Kgbt  aod  perfane,  imtuc  too: 
So  the  stars  wbeel'd  rovnd,  aad  the  datkitess  paM, 
Aad  at  mom  we  itatted  bnide  the  niau. 
And  still  cMh  ship  was  sailing  last  I 

Now,  ooe  mom,  bod  sppear'd — a  speck 
Dim  trtmbling  betwixt  m»  aad  sky— 
'Araid  it,'  cried  our  pilot,  'check 
The  sbout,  restrain  the  eager  eye ! ' 

to 


ROBERT  BROWNING 


Bui  the  heaving  sea  was  blacli  briwod 

For  many  a  ntj-ht  and  many  t  day. 
And  land,  though  but  a  rock,  dtew  la^ 
So  we  broke  the  cedar  pdes  away. 
Let  the  puiple  awning  flap   m  the  wm^ 

And  a  statue  bright  was  on  every 
We  shouted,   every  man  of  QS, 
And  steer'd  right  into  the  harbour  ttaa^ 
With  pomp  and  pacaa  glorious. 

A  hundred  shapes  of  lucid  SWne  I 

AJl  day  we  buili  its  shrine  fw  nc^ 
A  shrine  of  rock  for  every  one. 
Nor  paused  tiU   in  the  westering  sua 

Wc  sat  together  on  the  beach 
To  sing  because  our  task  was  dooej 
When  lo  !    what  shouts  and  merry  sol^ 
What  kughcer  all  the  lUsuacc  Kui  1 
A   loaded  raft  with  happy   throngs 

Of  gende  islandets! 

try,.  :-i —  ^-*  -•  kw>^  '  alkMr 


ROBERT  BROWNING 


717.         Thut  the  Ma/tie  glUeth 


\ 


'THUS  the  MayM  glidMh 
*      Where  my  Lotb  abidnlit 
Sleep's  no  softer :    it  proceeds 
Oa  through  Uwna,  on  ihfough  immI% 
Ob  sod  00,  whate'er  befaD, 
Meandering  and  mwial, 
Tbo«gh  tlw  niggard  puturage 
Bean  not  on  \\s  tbaren  ledge 
Aught  but  wtedt  and  waving  gmaea 
To  *iew  the  riter  as  it  passes. 
Save  here  aad  tlirtv  a  scanty  puch 
Of  pcimrMes  loo  faint  to  catcb 
A  wesuy  bee.  .  .  .  And  scarce  it  pushes 
Its  gentle  way  through  stnngling  ruabes 
Wbere  the  glossy  Uogfisher 
Fhlten  when  noon^eats  arc  near, 
>bd  tbc  shefring  bonlu  to  stiun, 
lad  steandng  in  the  sm, 

'  When  the  ahfew-aiouse  wnh  pale  throat 
Bunow^  and  the  speckled  stoat; 
Where  the  quick  sind|>(peT%  flit 
la  and  out  the  mail  and  grit 

[Tliat  seems  to  breed  tbcm,  brown  as  they: 
Naught  <fistiirbt  itt  quiet  way, 
Sue  some  lazy  *iork  that  f^pring), 
Tnnling  it  with  legs  and  wings, 
Whom  the  shy  fox  from  the  hill 
RoiucE,  creep  he  ne'er  so  still. 


«« 


i 


ROBERT  BROWNING 


T' 


I 


7iS.  Vippa'j  Stag 

*HE  fca/'>  3X  the  sptlRji, 
And  day's  M  ilic  morni 
Monibg  S  K  wren  j 
Tlie  hill-sklc's  diw-p«rl'di 
Ttic  bik  *s  on  the  wing  i 
Tb«  itoA  '•*  an  the  tfaorn ; 
Cod  'f  io  Hit  hawn  — 
All  'ft  right  with  the  world  I 

7t9.  Tm'H  Jove  Me  ^et 

VOU'LL  loi«  rw  yet !— and  I  CM  tiny 
^       Your  )oTe'»  pnXnKled  growrng : 
June  rea/d  thu  bunch  of  Aowers  yw  onji 
Prom  seeds  of  Apfil's  sowing, 

1  pkm  «  bcanfol  now:  some  xcd 

At  IcaM  is  sure  to  ^uUlc, 
And  yield — what  you'll  not  pluck  iaieei. 

Not  lore,  bvt,  nuj  be,  likr. 

You'll  look  «  IfMt  on  lowr's  remnns, 

A  grnve's  one  violet: 
Your  look? — that  pays  >  thouMnd  pnsL 
'What's  dcaih?    You'D  lore  ne  yet! 

720.  Torpb/ria's  Lnver  I 

'T'HE  rdn  set  early  in  to^hl,  V 

^      TTic  sullen  wind  was  ^oon  awake, 
It  tote  the  eln)-to|tt  down  for  spite, 
And  did  its  worst  to  rex  the  Uke: 


ROBERT  BROWNING 


I  SMffi'd  wiib  htan  fit  to  bmk. 
Whrn  gitdnj  in  Poq4iyria;   ttraigbl 

She  %hvl  the  cold  oct  and  th«  stonily 
And  konl'd  and  made  tlie  ctiecrirs«  gnie 

Blue  up,  asd  all  die  cotUf;e  trum  g 

Which  done,  she  rose,  aad  from  lier  fona 
Wiihdrew  tlie  drippt^  cloak  and  iduiwl, 

Asd  laid  her  wil'd  gloves  by.  untied 
Hcff  hat  and  let  the  dvnp  hair  fall. 

And,  Uk,  (he  ui  down  hf  my  tide 

And  call'd  me.     When  no  vnce  replied, 
She  put  my  arm  about  her  wtim, 

And  made  her  smooth  white  shodder  bve, 
And  all  ber  )<eUow  bair  dbfJaced, 

And,  stoopo^  made  ray  dieek  lie  there. 

And  spread,  o'er  all,  ber  ydlow  hair, 
Mutnuring  bow  she  loicd  me— she 

Too  weak,  ror  all  her  hart's  endcnwir. 
To  Mt  its  nnggfitig  pankw  free 

From  pride,  wid  taincr  tics  di**ever, 

And  gm  hcrecif  to  rac  for  ever. 
B«t  pMsion  toRictimcs  would  prrrail. 

Nor  could  lo-oight's  gay  tc*^  restrain 
A  Mildni  tiw«fght  o€  one  m  pale 

For  love  of  ber,  and  all  in  vain : 

So,  the  wai  come  through  wind  aad  nia. 
Be  sure  I  look'd  up  at  ber  cyci 

H^ipy  and  proud;    at  Ian  1  knew 
Por|4tyf>a  worshipp'd  mc;   Mirprite 

Made  my  heart  t«-cl),  aad  still  it  grew 

While  I  debated  what  to  do. 
Thit  mommt  xbc  was  mioc,  mine,  hit, 

I^re<ti)'  puM  and  good;    I  foend 


ROBERT  BROWNING 


A  thing  to  do,  and  all  her  Inir 
In  one  long  ycUow  string  I   woniul 
Tbrec  tuTx;3  her  litllc  throat  around. 

And   strangled   her.      No  pain   Frit   ^e ; 
I  am  quite  sure  she  felt  no  poiiu 

As  a  shut  bud  that  holds  a  bee, 
1  warily  oped  her  lids :  again 
Laugh'd  the  blue  eyes  without  a  staia. 

And  I  unlighten'd  next  the  tress 

About   her  neck ;    her  check,  oacc  mote 

Bluah'd  bright  betirath   my  burning  kisst 
I  propp'd  her  bead  up  as  before. 
Only,   this  time  my  shoulder  boie 

Her  head,   which  droops  upoo   it  still : 
The  smiling  rosy  little  head, 

So  glad   it  has  its  utmost  will. 

That  all  It  scorn 'd  at  once  is  flrd. 
And  I,   its  lote,   am  gain'd  insiexl  I 

Porphyria's  love :    she  piess'd  not  how 
Her  darling  one  wish  would  be  faeutL 


ROBERT  BROWNING 

Because,  yoa  sputd  your  Utcs  in  praising ; 

To  praise,  you  search  the  wide  world  orer: 
Then  why  not  witness,  calmly  gaziog, 

If  earth  holds  aught — speak  truth — above  her  ? 
AboTc  this  tress,  and  this,  I  touch 
But  cannot  praise,  I  love  to  mnch  1 


722.  Earl  Mfrtoun's  Sottg 

"T^HERE  's  ■  woman  like  a   dewdrop,    she 's  so   purer 
^      than  the  purest  { 
And  her  aoble  heart's  the  noblest,  yes,  and  her  sure  faith's 

the  surest: 
And  her  eyes  are  dark  and  humid,  like  the  depth  on  depth 

of  lustre 
Hid   i'   the   harebell,  while   her  tresses,  sunnier  than   the 

wild-grape  cluster, 
Gush  in  gdden-tJDted  plenty  down  her  neck's  rose-misted 

marble: 
Then  her  mice's  music  ...  call   it  the  well's  bubbling. 

the  bird's  waible  t 

And   this  woman  says,   <My  days   were  sunless  tod   my 

nights  were  moonless, 
Parch'd  the  pleasant  April  herbage,  and  the  lark's  heart's 

outlxeak  tuneless, 
If  you  loTed  me  not ! '     And   I   who   (ah,  for  words  of 

flame !)  adore  her. 
Who  am  mad  to  lay  my  spirit  prostrate  palp^ly  beibre  her — 
I  may  enter  at  her  portal  soon,  as  now  her  l^ce  takes  me. 
And  by  noontide  as  by  midnight  make  her  mine,  as  hers 

she  makes  me ! 


ROBERT  BROWNING 

72S'  ^"  *  GeutM* 

T'HE  moth's  kis*.  firat! 
'■       Kiu  me  u  if  you  nude  belitw 
Yon  were  not  wte,  this  ew, 
How  my  face,  yow  flower,  had  pwicd 
Its  ptuts  «pi  w,  here  Bod  llirrr 
You  brush  it,  till  I  grow  awuc 
Who  wMiu  lae,  sod  wide  ofe  I 

The  bw's  lu<^  now  I 
Kiss  me  ta  if  you  cnur'd  jsy 
My  heart  at  Mme  ooondiy, 
A  bud  that  duo  not  disallow 
The  cUim,  w  all  Is  reoder'd  vf. 
And  poxsitely  its  gJutter'd  cup 
Oitt  youi  t)C>d  to  sleep  I  bov. 


724.  Mettin^  at  Night 

nPHE  gray  sea  and  the  long  black  land; 
*■       And  the  yellow  half^moon  large  aid  Vmx 
And  the  startled  little  wares  thai  leap 
Id  Ttery  ringlets  from  tlieir  sleep, 
A*  I  gain  the  core  with  pushing  [Jtow, 
And  (juench  its  speed  i'  tl>e  &liuhy  sand. 

Then  a  mile  of  wann  sca>BCented  bndi  1 
Three  liclds  to  cross  till  a  fann  appears  t 
A  tap  at  the  pane,  the  quick  sharp 
And  blue  $pun  of  a  ligiiied  riutch. 
And  a  ?oice  1cm  loud,  tltro'  itA  joys  and 
Than  the  two  hcoits  besting  each  to  cachl, 
96o 


73S- 


ROBERT  BROWNING 


Tarling  at  fliotving 


ROUND  the  cape  of  a  ludden  came  Uie  an. 
And  ibe  Mn  look'd  oim  the  nxtunutn't  rim : 
Afld  itraighl  wu  >  path  of  gold  (or  him. 
And  ibe  need  of  a  world  of  mm  for  mc^ 


^26. 


The  Lost  Mistress 


ALL  's  orcT,  tlieni   does  truth  WNnuJ  bitter 
*^     At  one  at  6nt  bcltcvn? 
Hatk,  'tn  tfac  Kjarrows'  good^ght  twritrr 
About  your  cotu^  cares ! 

And  Uk  lea/'bodt  oo  the  viae  >rc  irooUy, 

I  Ddticcd  that,  to-da;r; 
Ooe  da;  mote  b«svs  tbcm  open  fiilljr 

—You  luiow  the  red  turns  gray. 

To-morrow  we  roe«  the  ume  ihcn,  dcarvitf 

May  I  Like  yoxtt  tund  in  nuati 
Merc  friends  air  vr, —  well,  friends  the  mcrcsi 

K«ep  nucii  ibat  I  rcRgn: 

Por  Mch  gUnce  of  the  eye  so  bright  and  black, 
Tlunigh  I  ker[>  with  bran's  endeaTour, — 

Your  I'oke,  when  you  vish  the  snowdrops  back, 
I'bougb  it  suy  in  taj  soul  for  nvr ! — 

Y«  I  will  bn  «ay  what  mere  fncflds  saj'. 

Or  only  a  thought  wioqgcr; 
I  will  hold  yoor  kxnd  bat  as  long  u  all  watf. 

Or  M  m]r  litde  loagjtrl 


ROBERT  BROWNING 

Time's  many  i  cromi  for  who  can  reack. 
Tn  line*,  a  stateiRiao's  life  in  eadil 
The  Sug  ituck  on  a  heap  of  boocs, 
A  soldier**  doiagt    what  Koani 
Thcj  scratch  hti  attae  on  the  Abbey-sUtti. 
My  riding  is  better,  by  thdr  leave. 

What  does  it  all  mean,  poetf     Wdl, 
Your  biaios  beat  loto  thjthai,  yoo  tell 
What  we  felt  only;   j-oo  rxprns'd 
You  hold  ihinft  besuciJul  the  bat. 

And  pace  ibrm  in  rhyme  so,  side  by  nit. 
Tis  »ii»th)ng,  nay  'tis  much:  but  then, 
Have  you  yourself  what's  best  for  taai 
Are  you — poor,  sick,  old  ere  your  ttaie— 
Nearer  one  whit  yow  own  suUiroe 
Than  we  who  neier  hare  turn'd  »  thyme! 

Sing,  riding's  a  joy!     For  m^  I  riilb 

Atid  you,  grcait  sculptor — so,  you  gire 
A  score  of  years  to  Art,  ber  slare. 
And  tlut  's  your  Venus,  whence  we  tnni 
To  yonder  girt  that  fords  the  bum ! 

You  acquiesce,  and  shall  I  repiarf 
What,  man  of  music,  yon  grown  gray 
With  notes  and  nothing  else  to  say, 
U  this  j-our  sole  praise  from  a  friend, 
'Greatly  his  opera's  uraias  inccixl, 
Put  in  music  we  know  bow  fasbioos  eitdl' 

I  gate  my  youth  i  but  we  ride^  in  Sm. 

Who  knows  what's  fit  fee  ns 7     Had  (ar 
Proposed  bliss  here  sbo«Id  subjituatc 
My  being — had  I  agn'd  the  bood — 
StUl  ooc  must  lead  some  life  beyand^ 

B6* 


I 
I 


ROBERT  BROWNING 

Hate  a  blua  to  die  witb,  dim-dcrtcned. 
Thb  foot  OQtt  fUnml  oo  the  ^oH, 
Thb  glotygulnid  round  my  muI, 
Could  I  ieKTf  iwch>    Try  and  mtl 
I  sittk  back  ifauddering  from  the  i^ont. 
£nth  bcii^  M  good,  would  bckvcn  smri  besit 

Now,  lm<xn  and  sbc  are  t)e)x»d  Uiis  tide. 


And  yet — ibt  lua  not  tpoke  w  long! 
What  if  bnmi  b«  that,  fur  aod  uroog 
At  life's  best,  with  our  eyes  ujjtum'd 
Whiilxr  life's  flower  b  first  disoere'd, 
We,  lix'd  so,  ever  should  so  abtdet 

I  What  if  we  stitl  ride  aa,  we  two 
With  Kfc  for  erer  old  yet  new, 

'  Chmfcd  not  in  kind  but  in  dcgrEr, 
The  imtant  nude  eternity,— 
And  heavra  just  prore  that  I  and  she 
Ride,  ride  together,  for  t\tt  ridef 


72S. 


Miscoactptiont 


"T^HIS  is  a  spny  the  Bijd  citing  to, 
'      Mikiog  it  blosfom  with  pleasure, 
Err  the  high  ure-top  she  Sfming  w^ 
Fit  for  her  ikcK  and  her  tretsore. 
O,  vW  a  hope  beyond  nwuvre 
Was  the  poor  spray's,  which  the  Syiii|  feet  hong  10,- 
So  10  be  Hngled  out,  built  in,  waA  nog  10 1 

rf  Ml 


ROBERT  BROWNING 

TluE  ii  a  beait  the  Qucca  l«uit  aO| 

TItfilI'd  ia  ■  ininatc  cmtic. 
Etc  the  tnie  bosom  she  bent  oo, 
Meet  fioc  love's  regal  dalraMJ&l 
O,  what  a  fancy  ecstatic 
Was  the  poor  hnitt'*,  ere  the  wanderer  wnrt 
LoK  to  be  fsTvd  for  it,  proifcr'tl  to,  apcot  col 


729.     Home-thmghts,  from  Ah 

O    to  be  in  Eogbnd 
7     Now  that  April '%  thet^ 
Atxt  whoever  wakes  in  England 
Sees,  Mdie  morning,  uuwaie, 
l''hat  the  lowcit  boughs  aad  the  hrusbi 
Round  the  eln)>tree  bde  are  in  tiiijr  ]eaf| 
While  tlie  chafliDch  atigs  on  the  orcbard 
1b  England— narw  I 

And  after  Apnl,  when  May  follows, 
And  the  wbitcthnxit  bailds,  and  all  the  sv 
Hark,  where  my  blosKtm'd  pr^i-ttee  in  the 
Leans  to  the  field  and  scatters  on  the  clover 
Blossoms  and  dcwdro|>s — at  the  beni  spray^ 
That 's  the  wise  thmih ;  he  bngs  each  song  ivk 
Lest  you  shouJd  think  be  oeiei  coaild  rcca|.tuie 
The  first  Eoe  careless  rapture ! 
And  though  the  fields  look  rough  with  hoary 
All  will  be  gay  when  noonbdr  w^es  anew 
The  bnttercufis,  the  little  cbitdrca's  dowo- 
— Far  brighicr  than  this  gaudy  melop«flo«ql 


r 


ROBERT  BROWNING 


30.     Mmtc-thrngbts,  from  the  &« 

OBLY,  oobljr  Cape  Saiiu  Vinc«ni  to  ibe  Nonh-wnt 

cUkI  smj; 
ct  ran,  one  glonous  blood-TM),  rtcking  into  C^ii  Biy ; 
lb  'mid  ibr  burning  wattr,  fatl  in  face  Tnfat^  bjrj 
be  diiDRMit  Nonli-cast  djsuncc  diwnM  Gtbniltar  sriod 

ft  and    here   did    Englind  he^  nw:    how  cao  1   help 

England  f '— njr, 
BOO  nn»   u  I,  tbii  evening,  turn   to    God   to  pniir 

•nd  pny, 
h  Jo«e'>  fJtact  RKS  yoodcr,  tileat  over  Africa. 


WILLIAM  BELL  SCOTT 

[I.  r-J^  /r/te^V  5.»//«</ 

I 

01  hae  cotnc  rrom  far  away, 
)     Prom  a  warm  land  far  away, 
A  KKdhcni  land  across  tJie  tea, 
With  uiloT'bdjt  aboul  the  tiust. 
Merry  and  caony,  and  kind  to  xae. 

And  I  hac  been  to  yoo  town 

To  try  my  luck  in  yon  town ; 
Mart,  and  Mpie,  Ebfoe  too. 
Right  braw  we  were  to  pass  the  gate, 
Wi'  gowdcn  claaptt  on  pnlles  blue. 

Myaie  smiled  wi'  miminy  mooth, 
Inoocent  rooolfa,  miminy  raooth; 


ia«a 


m 


WILLIAM  BELL  SCOTT 

EUpie  wore  a  scarlet  gown, 
Nort's  ga-y  eyes  were  uaco*  gleg. 
My  Casiilc  comb  was  like  b  crowa. 

We  walk'd  abreast  all  up  the  «««, 

Into  the  market  up  the  street  i 
Out  hair  with  marigoids  was  wound. 
Our  bodices  with  love-knots  laced. 
Our  merchandise  with  tansy  bound. 

Nort  had  chickens,  1  had  cocks. 

Gamesome  cocks,  loud-crowiog  coclu; 
Mysie  ducks,  and   Elsjae  dnkes, — 
For  a  wee  groat  or  a  pound; 
We  lost  nac  time  wi'  gives  and  takes 

— Lost  nae  time,  for  well  we  knew. 
In  our  sleeves  full  well  we  knew. 
When  the  gloaming  came  tlial  ftighl. 
Duck  nor  drake,  nor  heo  twr  cock 
Would  be  found  by  candle-li^hi. 


I 


WILLIAM  BELL  SCOTT 


Sae  loud  the  Kmgue*  o'  rendMS  grrw, 

The  flytio'  aod  the  ftUrltn'  grew, 
Al  all  the  window*  in  ifac  place, 
Wi'  (fioons  or  knim,  wf  ncoDc  of  awl. 
Was  thnut  out  erery  hand  aod  lace. 

And  down  each  %aa  diejr  iluoDg'd  anon^ 

Gnttic,  srmplc,  lbro«i^<)  aaont 
Soutcr  aad  tailor,  frowsy  Nan, 
The  ancient  widow  young  agai^ 
Simpcriog  behind  bcr  (na. 

Without  a  choice,  agaitni  tbdf  will, 
Doited,  dazed,  agunst  tbdr  wiJI, 
The  matket  la&we  aad  her  mitber, 
The  fanner  and  ha  buriModman, 
Haod  in  lund  dance  a'  tbcgithcr. 

Slow  at  iirat,  but  (asut  toon, 
■         Still  iocrcauns,  wild  and  faat, 
'    Hoods  and  nuntles,  hats  aod  hose, 

BEndly  doJTd  aad  cast  away, 

Left  them  naked,  heads  and  toes. 

tTbcy  would  hare  ton  us  limb  from  Bmb, 
Dainty  Emb  fnxn  dainty  limb; 
But  oeirf  one  of  them  eoold  win 
Across  the  line  that  I  bad  drawn 
H    With  bieeding  thumb  a-widdershin. 

But  there  was  Jeff  the  proi-ost's  son, 
Jelf  the  pcOTosi's  only  soo ; 

•ndie*]  vinfoet.  Sytio']  KoUHag.  ikirlin']  ibrie kEeg. 

act)o^blci.  4oiledJ  mjLud.  a-viddenbin]  ihe  wionx 

«  E.  to  W.  Ihrougb  N. 


WILLIAM  BELL  SCOl 

There  was  Father  Add  hhnsd', 
The  Lombard  fnie  the  hostelry, 
And  the  lawyer  Peter  Fell. 

AU  goodly  men  we  siogled  out. 

Waled  ihem  well,   sad   singled  (Nd 
And  drew  thero  by  the  icft  hand  b 
Mysie  the  priest,  and  CIsjne  won 
The   Lombaid,   Nort  the  lawyer  carl 
1   mysel'  the  prwvosl's  son. 

Then,  with  cantrip  kisses  mvcd,     I 
Three  times  round  with  kisses  sei 
Warp'd  and  wothi  there  spun  wc 
Arms  and  legs  and  (laming  hair. 
Like  a  whirlwind  oa  (he  ses. 

Like  a  wind  that  sucks  the  sea. 
Over  and  in  and  on  the  sea, 
Good  suoth  it  was  a  mad  delight|1 
And  every  man  of  all  the  four 


WILLIAM  BELL  SCOTr 

Aad  ml  the  provtMt'i  hmt  ndst-titt. 

On  the  ptOTOat's  gnad  ridgc-iikv 
Tbe  Kackiinoor  fint  to  muter  ra> 
I  uw,  I  WW  Uut  iriiuoAue  uniie, 
Tb*  inoiilb  Uut  did  my  bevt  bcgtnile. 
And  Bpoke  tbc  gmt  Word  gTcr  ate. 
Id  iba  laad  beyond  tbe  tea. 

I  dll'd  ha  tume,  I  uU'd  aloud, 
AIm!    I  caU'd  on  him  aloud; 
And  then  be  dll'd  hia  hand  with  Uoat, 
And  threw  it  lowarda  me  ia  the  airi 
My  mooM  flew  out,  I  lost  roj  fov/'t^ 

My  tatty  wength,  my  pawtt  wm  gmt\ 

Power  was  gone,  and  ail  wa*  gone. 
He  wiD  not  let  me  lo*c  him  loorel 
Of  bell  aad  whip  and  hone's  tail 
He  caret  not  if  I  fiad  a  itorc. 

But  I  am  pood  if  be  is  lierce ! 

I  ara  as  proud  as  be  is  fiercei 
ni  toro  about  aad  backward  {■a^ 
tf  I  meet  again  that  Blackamoor, 
And  he'll  help  n  then,  for  be  shall  know 
I  Kck  aaotbcr  paramour. 

And  we'll  gang  once  more  to  yoo  town, 

Wi'  better  luck  to  yoa  towoi 
We'll  walk  is  ullt  aod  cramoiMe, 
And  I  ihall  w«d  the  proroM's  ton 
My  lady  of  tbe  town  111  be  I 

(iJdiHL  cmBoUt]  orinwaa. 


?32. 


WILLIAM  BELL  SCOT] 

For  I  was  bom  a  ctovm'd  lung's 
Born  and  titmed  a  ki&g'<  eiiSi 
King  o'  a  land  ayoal  thr  sea.  M 
Wljere  the  Blflckanioor  Viss'd  rat 
And  [aughi  me  att  and  giaraourie 

Each  OIK  in  her  wame  shall  hide 
Her  hairy  mouse,   her  wary  mt 
Fed  on  madwort  and  agtamie, — 
Wear  amber  beads  between  her  b 
And  blind-wonn's  skin  about  her 

The  Lombard  shall  be  Ebpie's  n 
Elspie's  gowden  husband-mao ; 
NoTt  shall  take  the  lawyer's  Fia&d 
The  priest  shall  swear  another  vc 
We'll  dance  aguo  the  ssnUundl 

•  AUDREY  DE  VERI 
Serenade 


AUQREV  DE  VERE 

Beod  down  pui  glittering  una, 

Etc  y«t  the  dawn  return*, 
And  sUr  with  dnt  tbt  lawn  faer  (cM  shall  tit*d| 

UpoD  the  air  raid  bain, 

fibd  >U  tbt  woods  be  calm, 
AmbroHal  dmm  with  l-.«^ilihl'ul  shimbcre  wedj 

That  10  the  MaidcB  may 

With  Nuilcs  your  care  repy, 
When  from  her  couch  ahe  lifta  her  {olden  headi 

Waking  with  earlicM  birdii 

Ere  yet  the  miny  herds 
LcsTc  Winn  'mid  the  gisy  grass  their  dntky  bed. 


T33- 


Sonvw 


/^OUNT  each  tffiedoo,  whether  light  or  gtw, 
^-^     God'i  mcncn^  tent  down  lo  thee  j  do  then 

With  coortesy  lecdte  him  ;    rise  and  bow ; 
And,  *»  his  shadow  pass  thy  thmhold,  cniTe 
Pcnoitsioa  first  bis  hearenly  feci  to  lave; 

Thtn  by  before  him  all  thou  hast;    allow 

No  dood  of  fUMO  to  Bsuip  diy  brow, 
Or  mar  thy  hosjtiialiiy ;    oo  wave 
Of  mortal  tumult  to  obliitrate 

The  Mul's  numMttal  calmsess  i   Grief  should  b^ 
Like  joy,  majcsd^  c<juable,  MiUte ; 

CoofirniD^  dtatuiDg,  niiing,  makii^  fteet 
Sfroog  to  consume  muII  troubles;  to  coratocnd 
Great  thoughts,  grave  thoughts,  thoughts  lastiiig  to  the  ead. 


Ff) 


GEORGE  FOX 


734.  The  County  of  Mayo 

FROU    THE   ISISH  OT  TROHAS   UiVKLL 

/"^N  tlip  deck  of  Patrick  Lyncb's  boat  I  sat  in 
^-^      Through  my  sighing  all  the  weary  day 

all  thi-  night ; 
Were  it  not  that  full  of  sorrow  from  my  peopl 
By  the  blt'ssed  sun  !    'tis  royally  Yd  sing  thy  pi 

When  I  dwL'li  at  home  in  plenty,  and  my  go 

abound. 
In  the  company  of  fair  young  maids  the  Span 

round — - 
'Tis   2  bitter   change  from  those   gay  days  th 

forced  to  go 
And  must  Irave  my  bones  in  Santa  Cruz,  far  fj 

Mayo. 


73S- 


EMILY  BR0NT6 
M/  LmZ/'s  Grtne 


'T^E  IraoR  in  tbe  nxky  dcB*, 
^      TIk  ■Door-bric  is  the  Iff, 
Tbe  bcc  anoag  tfac  bnthir  bdb 
TbK  bide  Bf  hdy  far: 

Tbc  wild  di«T  btowK  aboic  ber  brraxt 
The  mid  \iaA%  nise  tlwir  beood  i 

AnJ  thrjr,  bet  tinile*  of  lo«e  caroa'd, 
HiTc  IHi  hct  (olnudc! 

I  Ween  thxi  when  tbe  gnre'i  dsrk  wall 

Did  fini  her  fonn  tetan, 
Tbey  tbovglit  their  hcara  awld  vt'tt  recall 

liie  light  of  joy  agiis. 

Tbey  ibcwgbt  ihc  tide  or  gticf  woaid  flow 
Unchetk'd  through  finare  T«an; 

Sue  wbeie  b  all  tbdr  aagiisb  ouw, 
And  wbete  ve  all  their  tears  f 

WeB,  kt  then  Bght  br  hooom'i  brctth, 

Or  ilesare^  ihade  pvnae — 
The  dwrllet  in  the  tuid  of  dntb 

Is  duflged  sod  csieleu  too. 

And  if  their  vjvs  ihoold  vaich  and  weep 

Til)  sorrow's  source  vtrc  dry, 
She  would  Dot,  in  her  tnUK{itil  slop, 

Return  a  aiogle  sigh  I 

Blow,  w«si  wind,  fay  tbc  loody  mamtd: 
Aod  Riwmur,  lununer  streaoisl 

There  a  no  need  of  ether  souod 
To  wothe  my  lady's  dmau. 


mA-Ai.% 


EMILY  BRONTfi 


7itf. 


Remanhrance 


/'^OLD  in  the  earth — and  the  deep  snow 
^~*     Far,  far  removed,  cold  ia  the  dreary  gi 
Have  I   forgot,   my  only   Love,   to   love  thee, 
Sever'd  at  last  by  Time's  aii-severing  wave 

Now,  when  alone,  da  my  thoughts  no  loogH 
Over  the  mountains,  on  that  northern  shore 

Resting  their  wings  where  heath  and  fem-leav 
Thy  noble  heait  for  erer,  ever  more  \        J 

Cold  in  the  earth — and  fifteen  wild  Dccembtt 
From  those  brown  hilla  have  tnclted  into  ^ 

FalthfiJ,  indeed,  is  the  spirit  that  remembera 
After  such  years  of  change  and  sulferiog  1 

Sweet  Love  of  youth,  forgive,  if  I  forget  tlie 
While  the  world's  tide  is  beanng   me  aJong 

Other  dfsires  and  other  hopes  beset  me, 

Hopes   which  obscure,  but  cannot  do  thee  \ 


EMILY  BRONTE 

And,  cm  ]rtt,  1  dm  not  let  it  bngnsK, 
I>tfe  Dot  indulge  in  m«cnory's  njiCunnis  paiai 

Oncv  dnoking  deep  of  that  dirinesc  Mguish, 
How  couid  I  wck  llie  emf-ty  world  tgiaai 


737. 


Tie  Trisoaer 


CTILL  In  my  tynnit  kninr,  1  un  hc  doont'd  to  wear 
"^     Year  klter  yctr  in  gloora  utd  dnolatc  dnptir; 
A  isrsscngrr  oJ*  Hope  comes  cTcry  night  U>  iiK( 
And  oikn  for  abort  XiSt,  ttcrnal  liberty. 

H»  cooMi  with  Writeni  windt,  with  eradng's  wiodmng  dn, 
With  that  cleu  datk  of  heaven  that  bring*  the  thickrat  ittr* : 
Wind*  ukc  1  prnsii'c  tone,  lod  »an  a  tender  fire, 
And  visions  rue,  and  change,  that  kill  me  with  deiir«. 

Drsirr  for  nothing  known  in  my  niatum'  yrars, 

When  Joy  grew  mad  with  awe,  M  couctiag  fniuiv  tears: 

When,  if  my  sjniit's  &ky  was  fill  of  flashes  warm, 

I  koew  not  whence  tbcy  came,  from  wo  or  tbimler-Konn. 

But  first,  a  hush  of  peace— a  soundkM  calm  dracrodsi 
The  struggle  of  diuma  and  6erce  irapatieaoe  ends. 
Mute  music  lootbes  my  bm-it— luiotter'd  hanooay 
Tlut  I  coold  Dcver  dream,  till  Earth  was  ioit  to  mt. 

Then  diwQt  the  Itiitsible;   th«  Unoecn  ita  innh  rervalsi 
My  outward  kuw  b  gone,  my  tnwaid  esseoce  ftdsg 
Its  wings  ate  almoH  free — iu  home,  its  tuibour  found, 
Ucaaoring  the  pilf,  it  stoops  *nd  dates  the  linal  bound. 

O  dtvadfiil  is  the  check — intense  ihe  agony — 
When  tlic  ear  begins  to  hear,  and  the  eye  begins  to  see  i 
Wbeo  the  pulse  bejins  to  tlirot>— tb«  brain  to  think  again — 
_l*he  soul  to  fed  the  fleah,  and  Uu  iafa  to  fed  the  duia. 


EMILY  BRONTE 


Yet  I  would  lose  no  sling,  would  wish  no  U 
The  more  that  anguish  racks,  the  eartier  it  «r 
And  robed  in  fires  of  hell,  or  bright  with  he 
If  it  but  herald  Death,  the  vision  a  di«iae.-j 


73S.  Last  Lines 

^J  O  coward  soul  is  mine, 
^  ~      No  trembler  in  the  w( 


li«iae.-l 
siam-tnn 


world's 

I  see  Heaven's  glories  shbc. 
And  faith  shines  equal,  amuog  mc  fram  feat; 

O  God  within  my  breast, 
Almighty,   ever-present  Deity! 

Life — that  in  mc  has  rest, 
As  I — undying  Life — have  power  in  Thee! 

Vain  are  the  thousand  creeds 
That  move  men's  beans;    unutterably  rain; 

Worthies*  as  wilher'd  weeds, 
Or  idlest  froth  amid  the  boundless  maia. 


EMILY  BRONTE 

'Ihttt  n  not  room  for  Death, 
Nor  ■locn  thai  bis  lalgbt  caM  ttoAti  void: 

Thou— Thou  an  Dciog  tad  Birvb, 
And  Hihtt  Thou  wt  Ruy  never  be  dcstrojtd. 


CHARLES  KINGSLEY 


tfli9-l97]l 


rjff,  jlirl/  Beacon 

AIRLY  Bmcoo,  Aifly  Bcacoot 
''*'     O  the  plnuau  sight  to  see 
Shitcf  and  towns  from  Aitly  Beacon, 
While  Hiy  love  ctimb'tl  up  to  me  I 

Alrif  B«acoa,  Aiiljr  Bncoiii 
O  llie  bappjr  boun  we  by 

Deep  m  ftrn  on  AiHy  Beacon. 

Courting  thrDuf;h  the  nanmer't  day! 

Aitly  ScKOB,  Airly  Beacon; 

O  the  wcuy  hnini  for  me, 
All  »toae  OB  Aitly  BesKon, 

With  hb  baby  on  t»y  kneet 


J40.  The  Sa»Js  of  7>ef 

*  O  *^^*^^'  go  wxl  «!■  the  cattle  home, 
^^     And  call  the  ctttJc  home, 

And  cad  the  oitle  home, 

Across  the  tands  of  "Oix' 
The  wrfurn  *iod  wm  wild  and  cbric  with  fbiun. 

And  all  iloDc  went  she. 


CHARLES  KINGSLEY 


The  western  tide  crept  up  along  the  maA, 
And  o'er  and  o'w  the  sand. 
And  round  and  round  the  sand, 
As  far  OS  eye  could  see. 

The  colling  mist  came  down  and  bid 
And  never  home  came  she. 

'O 


Btnd, 


IS  it  weed,  or  fish,  or  floating  lair — 

A   tress  of  golden   hair, 
A  drowned  maiden's  hair, 
Above  the  nets  at  sea ! ' 
Was  never  salmon  yet  that  shone  so 
Among  the  stakes  of  Dee. 

They  rowM  her  in  across  the  tolling 

The  cruel  crawling  foam, 
The  cruel  hungry  foam, 
To  her  grave  beside  the  »e». 
But  still  the  boatmen  hear  bn  call  tbe  CI 
Across  the  sands  of  Dec  _ 

-  J 


ARTHUR  HUGH  CLOUGH 

Tor  while  the  mtA  witm.  riioljr  breaking. 
Skid  here  no  painful  iacb  to  pia, 

F«  bode,  throufth  crcdu  and  inlets  nukiag, 
Comes  silent,  ttoodtng  in,  the  mtta. 

And  DOC  bj  csHern  viadowt  only, 

When  diyGght  eaiaes,  comts  in  the  ltg)it[ 

la  rrool  the  nia  dimfcs  dow,  how  ilowljr  I 
But  westward,  look,  the  Uai  b  hright! 


•BifiSw 


WALT  WHITMAN 
T42.  The  Imprismeti  Soul 

Vr  the  Iksi,  tcndecly, 

^     From  the  walls  of  the  powerful,  fomess'd  hoov;, 

torn  ibc  cLsp  of  the  kaitwd  locks— iioai  the  keep  of  ths 

well^loocd  doors, 
,ct  (DC  be  waitid. 

■ct  mc  glide  noiselesUy  forth  t 

Ttih  the  key  of  sofiness  «n!ock  the  toclu— «itb  s  whoptr 

et  ope  the  doors,  O  loiill 

'citdcilj  I   be  not  impatieDt  I 

itraag  is  your  hold,  O  mortal  flesh  I 

tnag  is  your  hold,  0  love!) 


T4i'      0  CapumI    Mj>  Capttmt 

•^  CAPTAIN !    my  Captain !    our  fcarftil  trip  is  done, 
^     The  ihip  has  wniber'il  ercry  rsck,  the  [riie  we 

sou^t  Is  woti, 
"be  port  is  near,  the  belb  I  bar,  the  people  all  ncolung, 
niile  follow  eyn  the  steady  keel,  the  veMcl  grtm  and  daitng  1 


WALT  WHITMAN 

But  O  heart!    heait!    Lean! 
O  the  bleeding  drops  of  ledl 
Where  on  the  deck   my 

Fallen  cold  and  dead. 


1 


O  Capt^n  1   ray  Captain !    rise  up  and  bear 
Rise  up — for  you  the  fijg  is  flung — fof  you  itt 
For  you  bouquets  and  ribboo'd  wreaths — for  yo 

crowding, 
For  you  they  call,  the  swaying  mass,  their  eagi 
Here,   Captain !    dear  father ! 
This  arm  beneath  your  head! 

It  is  some  dtearo  that  on  the  ded 
You've  fallen  cold  and  dcdd. 

My  Captain  does  not  answer,  his  lips  are  pS 
My  father  does  not  fcf  1  my  arm,  he  haa  no  pei 
The  ship  is  anchor'd  safe  and  sound,  its  voyage  do 
From  fearful  trip  the  victor  ship  comes  in  wtih 
Exult,  O  shores  !  and  ring,  O  bells ! 
Rut    T     nrith  nHiiimRit  IriaW 


EBENEZER  JONES 

ff^hen  the  ff^orU  h  bunine 

VW'HEN  ihe  woHd  is  burning. 
"'       Fired  witbio,  yrt  tsmng 

RoufMl  «Yth  fm  utisuthed  { 
Ere  &crce  Itjoirs,  upmshbg, 
O'er  all  lactb  leap,  cnisliing, 

Till  earth  (all,  fire-sw»)i«d  i 
Up  unubi  the  mcadovn, 
Ccntly  ihiw^h  the  shadows, 

Ccutie  flames  will  glide, 
Small,  aod  Uw,  and  goUca. 
IVMsh  bj  bard  beboUeo, 
Wlien  in  cilm  drmns  f()ldeo,-» 

Calm  hb  drcaois  will  twk. 

Wbne  the  daOcC  if  Mcfla^ 
Tbrtnigh  the  gretrnsuvd'  feeffini^ 

Shall  the  »ft  lights  start) 
^Laaghing  maids,  onstaying, 
Deoriog  it  trick-ptajriQg. 
Hi^  thdf  robes  upswaytng, 

O'er  the  CgliU  shall  dartt 
And  the  woMilaad  haunter 
Sh^  not  ceaie  to  saunter 

When,  fiir  dawn  tatae  gbde. 
Of  the  great  world's  bumiog. 
One  soft  fiame  nptnnibg 
Smob,  to  has  djsceniing, 

Cnen  io  the  shade. 


FREDERICK  LOCKER-LAJ 
7^S.  M  Her  U^ittJovo 

O  EATING  Heutt   ««  com 
*-*     Where  my  Love  rcposni 
This  b  Mabd's  wiodow-poae  t 
ThcK  are  Mabel's  nae^ 

Is  the  ^«il^d?    Doea  the  kim 
In  the  iwiligbi  stflly, 

Lily  chd  from  tJiroac  to  becl^ 
She,  my  Tirjin  Lily? 


1 


Soon  tlw  win.  the  wttlful 
Fading,  will  forsake  her 

Elrcf  of  light,  00  Ix-ftmy  bort, 
Wlikpa  tbco,  and  vrakc  her^ 

Let  tbb  friendly  pebble  plead 
At  her  flowery  grating  [ 

If  she  hear  me  will  sbe  becd! 
MtiM,  i  dm  v>caMg, 

Mabel  will  be  deck'd  taoD, 
Zoned  m  brvk't  ippardt 

Happy  zone  I   O  hark  to 
Pasuoo-sbakca  carol  I 

Sing  thy  toog,  thou  trancM 
Rpe  thy  bestf  thy  clearest! 

Hu«h,  her  Lnoce  movca,  O 
DeartH   MsMt- 


I 


MATTHEW  ARNOLD 
The  Forsaken  Merman 

/^OME,  deaf  duldno,  let  us  t.wAj\ 
^— '     Down  ind  away  briow. 
Now  in)i  brothns  call  from  the  ln;r) 
Now  the  f;icai  windfi  kborewani  blow; 
Now  tbt  mIi  tkiM  mward  Aow  ( 
Now  the  wild  white  bonci  pUy, 
Cluiinp  and  cWe  and  tow  in  the  *pnj. 
CfaUdfoi  dear,  let  u  awijr. 
Tbis  way,  tbb  way  I 

CalJ  b«T  oooe  before  jrou  (o. 

Call  oace  y«t. 
Id  a  voice  tbn  the  w31  know: 

'Mafgam  1    Margam  I ' 
Childfm's  raicM  aboutd  be  dear 
(C^  OiKo  mote)  to  a  ■nocbcf'i  car: 
CbildreoS  voKn,  wild  with  pain. 
Smdy  sfca  will  cook  agitii. 
Cd  b(T  oooe  *od  Gooie  away. 

This  way,  tliis  way  1 
'Mother  deal,  we  cannot  stay.' 
'Vht  wild  white  bond  foam  and  frtt 

Uargvetl    MaigamI 

'  Come,  dear  childrtn,  come  away  dowa. 

Call  na  men. 
One  laK  look  at  the  whittswall'd  town, 
^Jid  the  little  grey  chunJi  oo  the  mndy  shorv. 
Then  come  doun. 
She  will  not  co«ne  though  yeu  call  all  day- 
Come  away,  come  away. 


MATTHEW  ARNOLD 

Children  dear,  was  ii  yesterday 
We  heard  (he  sweet  bells  orer  the 
In  the  caverns  where  we  Ujr, 
Through  the  surf  and  through   the 
The  far-off  sound  of  a  silser  bell  ? 
Sand-strewn  caTems,  cool  and  deep, 
Where  the  winds  arc  all  asleep ; 
Where  the  spent  lights  tjuirer  and  gkan 
Where  the  salt  weed  sways  in  the  sOra 
Where  the  sea-beasts,  ranged  all  rouod. 
Feed  in  the  ooie  of  their  pasture- gromti 
Where  the  sea-snakes  coil  and  twine, 
Dry  their  mail,  and  bask  id  the  brine; 
Where  great  whales  come  sailing  by, 
t^ail  and  sail,  with  unshut  eyt. 
Round  the  world  for  ever  and  ayet 
When   did  music  come  this  w»)r  I 
Children  dear,  was  it  yesterday  i 


Children 


dear,  was  il 
\  .I—  - 


yesterday 


MATTHEW  ARNOLD 

She  smiled,  she  went  up  throogh  the  suif  in  the  ba/. 
ChildrcD  dear,  was  it  jrcsterday? 

Childreo  dear,  wen  we  long  alone? 
'The  sea  grows  stonny,  the  little  ones  moao. 
Long  prayers,'  I  said,  'm  the  world  they  say, 
Cofoe,'  I  said,  and  we  rose  throagh  the  surf  in  the  bay. 
We  went  up  the  beach,  bf  the  sandy  dE>wn 
Where  the  sea-stocks  blotnii,  to  the  whiie-wall'd  lowa. 
Through  the  oairow  pared  streets,  where  all  was  still. 
To  the  litde  grey  church  on  the  windy  hiU. 
From  the  church  came  a  murmnr  of  fblk  at  their  pcayeti, 
But  we  stood  without  in  the  cold-blowing  airs. 
We  climb'd  on  the  grares,  on  the  Mooes  worn  with  tains, 
And  we  gazed  op  Ae  usie  through  the  small  leaded  panes. 

She  sate  by  die  pillar;   we  saw  her  clear: 

'  Margaret,  hist  I    come  quick,  we  are  here. 

Dear  heart,'  I  said,  *we  are  loi^  alone. 

The  sea  grows  stormy,  the  little  ones  moan.' 
But,  ah  I   she  gave  me  nerer  a  look, 
For  her  eyes  were  seal'd  to  the  holy  book. 
Load  prays  the  piiestj  shut  stands  the  door. 

Come  away,  children,  call  no  more. 

Come  away,  come  down,  call  no  mote 

Down,  down,  down; 

Down  to  the  depths  of  the  sea. 
She  sits  at  her  wheel  in  the  humming  town, 

Sin^ng  most  joyfully. 
Hark  what  she  sings:    'O  joy,  O  joy. 
For  the  humming  street,  and  the  child  with  its  toy. 
For  the  priest,  and  the  bell,  and  the  holy  well. 

For  the  wheel  where  I  ^nm, 

And  the  Uessid  light  of  the  sun.' 


MATTHEW  ARNOLD 

And  50  ti»  tingi  ber  Ivll, 

Sin^ng  RHHC  joyfully, 

Till  th«  ihimlc  &U*  from  her  hud, 

And  the  wliluing  wbnj  eoflds  ttill. 
She  ituJi  to  the  wiixiow,  and  looks  ai  tht.: 

And  ora  the  laod  at  the  an  | 

And  ber  ejn  are  set  in  a  Matet 

And  aooD  time  breaks  a  sigh, 

And  floon  there  drop*  ■  tear, 

Fnxn  >  torrow-doudcd  eye, 

And  a  bean  sorrow-Wco, 
A  long,  loog  sigh 
For  the  cold  stnn^  eyes  of  a  Uttk 

And  the  gleam  of  her  goldea  hair. 

Come  away,  away,  childm. 
Coma  duldico,  come  down. 
The  hoarse  wind  blows  coUeri 
Lights  shine  in  the  town. 
She  will  start  frotn  her  dumber 
When  guts  shake  the  doorj 
She  wUI  hear  the  winds  howiia^ 
Will  hmr  the  wsfec  roar. 
Wc  shall  see,  while  afcon  ns 
The  waves  roar  and  whirl, 
A  ceOifiJt  of  amber, 
A  paTemi-nt  of  peail. 
Singing,  'Here  came  a  mortal. 
But  fsiihlc&s  WM  she: 
And  alone  dwell  for  tnt 
The  kings  of  the  sea.' 

But,  childrco,  at  midnight, 
When  soft  the  winds  blovf 


MATTHEW  ARNOLD 


When  cinr  fntls  the  aoonligbt} 
Whtti  spring-tides  Mw  low; 
Wlwo  swKt  ain  come  leaward 
Prom  heatks  starr'd  with  broom ; 
And  hijh  rocks  ihrow  mildly 
On  the  bbncfa'd  unds  a  gloom  i 
Up  the  ttiti,  gliatrnini!  beaches, 
Up  the  credu  we  will  hiet 
Otct  banks  of  bright  seaweed 
The  ebb-tide  leans  diy. 
Wc  will  gaxe,  /ram  the  fand-bill*, 
At  the  white,  sleeping  town; 
At  the  chtircb  on  the  hill-side— 

And  then  come  back  dowtt. 
Siaging,  'There  dwells  S  k>Ted  oat, 

But  ctvcl  b  she. 
She  left  I0MI7  Tor  em 

Ttw  kiogs  of  iJie  sea.' 

iS.         Tie  SiHs  ofGtUiciet 

•yHROUGH  the  bLck,  nwhing  smoke4»nu, 
^      Thick  brejki  the  red  Hanc. 
All  Etna  heaves  fieroety 
H«  forwt-cIoth«I  fnme. 

Not  here,  O  Apollo  I 
Arc  haunts  mcrt  for  thee. 
But,  where  Helicon  breaks  down 
la  cfiff  to  the  Ka. 

Where  the  tnooa-stlter*d  inieta 
Send  far  their  light  voice 
Up  the  uiU  vale  of  Thiab^ 
O  ^eed,  and  rejoice  I 


MATTHEW  ARNOLD 

On  the  sward  at  the  ciiff-top, 
Lie  sirewn  the  white  docks; 
On  the  clitF-sidc,  the  pgnns 
Koost  deep  in  the  rocks. 

Id  die  moonlight  the  shepherds, 
Soft  luU'd  by  the  rilis, 
Lie  wrapt  \a  their  blukets, 
Asleep  on  the  hiUa, 

— What  forms  ate  these  cnming 
So  white  through  the  gloom-' 
What  gatraents  out-giisiening 
The  gold-flower'd  !Ht»cn  ? 

What  sweet-breathing  Presence 
Out-perfumes  the  thyme? 
What  voices  earapture 
The  night's  balmy  prime? — 

'Tia  Atiolln  enmna  4im<1«w 


MATTHEW  ARNOLD 


^WboM  ]«atw  do  tbey  aa 
Of  whK  b  k  told  ?— 
.  WbH  win  be  fat  rtcr. 
WliK  «M  &im  of  uld. 

Pka  byim  tbrf  die  P^ht 
or  ID  dmp:  vd  thos 
Tht  RM  flf 
TheKMaofi 


The  Di)r  io  U» 
Tbe  ttrifc  with  tfe  F^Mi 
The  Nigbt  m  ha  vkao. 
The  StKi  ia  tbs 


7*#  Jfurpimu 


tbex  kw. 


B«<  when  tfae  nra  dnr  iM^bw*  llfkai, 
Aad  dief  an  tmtft  by  Un  «f 

And  ■  ifcot  ska*  M  tmrf  wi^tm. 
The  wj^Hiffiw  £tiari]r  maft 

And  b*dy  octa,  6«n  •bore  to  tber^ 

AcraAA  the  y^rflitf  end  f^jiiaj^^  po^rt 

O  dien  a  baging  fike  de«p>ir 
!■  to  tfatv  (mhm  arena  mhI 


MATTHEW  ARNOLD 

For  surely  once,  they  kd,  we  wcM 

Parts  of  3  single  continent. 
Now  round  us  spreads  tiie  waiciy  phia- 
O  might  our  nuiges  meet  again  1  Jl 

Who  order'd  that  thdr  longing's  liit 
Siiould  be,  as  soon  as  kindled,  cod'i 

Who  renders  vain  their  deep  desire ! — 
A   God,   a  God  their  sevetaacc 

And  bade  betwixt  their  shoirs  to  be 

The  unplunib'd,  salt,  estranging  sea. 


7F0' 


Requiescat 


CTREW  on  her  rnscs,  rose^ 
'^     And  never  a  siitay  of  yc«^. 
In  quiet  she  reposes : 

Ahl   would  that  I  did  too. 


H-..  -^\^X  *. 


-U 


MATTHEW  ARNOLD 

7SI.  The  SchoUr-Gipsy 

O,  for  ibty  all  you,  Shepheid,  from  thf  hilli 
Go,  Sbephod,  ud  uade  the  waukd  cottt: 
No  tooger  Ictve  thy  wittful  flock  unfed. 
Nor  let  tliy  bowBng  Mbwv  rixrk  their  iliroait. 
Nof  thv  Crop}>'d  grifics  ^0:it  ROoChcr  hoA. 
Bui  wh-cn  the  lidds  irc  fiill, 
And  the  lind  aicn  ■ad  dogs  all  gooe  to  mt. 
And  only  the  wbitt  iheep  are  sonKUmn  Men 
CroM  and  recro&s  the  str^«  of  moon^ibAcb'd  |[ntnt 
lomc,  Sbepbcrdf  and  agtao  be^  the  quoL 

wbcTC  the  reaper  va»  at  work  of  lat«, 
tn  this  high  fleU't  dirk  comer,  where  he  learet 

His  coat,  lus  batlcet,  «d  tin  eanhrn  cmisc, 
And  in  (be  SOD  all  noniaog  btnJs  the  slieares, 

I'ben  here,  U  nooti,  conws  back  his  stores  to  <lK; 
H«e  wQI  I  ait  Bod  wait, 
Wliile  to  my  car  from  u{Jaads  far  away 

Tbc  btn^  of  the  folded  flocks  b  borne. 

With  distant  cries  of  leipers  in  the  coro^ 
All  the  EiTe  nwnnur  of  a  sununer's  day. 

Screen'd  is  thu  aook  o'er  the  h^b,  balf-mij'd  lidd, 
And  hrre  till  aimdown,  Shepherd,  wiQ  1  be. 

Throa^  tbe  thick  com  Uk  scarlet  poppies  pcepy 
And  romid  green  roots  and  yellowing  stalks  I  see 

Pale  Une  cantolnJus  in  tendrils  creep: 
Aod  aifswept  liadena  ytdd 
Their  scent,  md  nstk  down  tbnr  perfumed  shovrers 

Of  bloom  00  the  bent  gnos  where  I  am  bid. 

And  bower  me  from  ibe  August  sod  with  shade; 
And  ibe  eye  iniTels  down  to  Oxford's  towers: 


\ 


<IWI^]WPtJii|"l'J  ■ 


But  once,  years  after,  ii 

Two  scholars,  whom 

Met  him,  and  of  I 

Whereat  he  answcr'd 

His  mates,  had  an 

The  workings  o 

And  they  can  bind  t 

'And  V  Iw  »^ 

When  fuUy  leara'c 

But  it  needa  Hwvm 

This  said,  he  left  then 
But  rumours  hung  a] 

That  the  lost  Sd 
Seen  by  rare  glirapa. 

In  hat  of  antique 

The  same  the 

Shepherds  had  met 

At  some  lone  ale 

On  the  wann  ing 
flad  found  him  sex 


MATTHEW  ARNOLD 

'taid  ihnr  drink  «id  cburr,  be  wouM  fly  i 
And  I  myself  ttvm  k*tf  to  know  tby  looks, 

And  p«  tfct  thnUxTds  Waadcrcr,  oo  tlqr  trace; 
And  boys  who  in  kmx  wbrttfieldi  scn«  the  roolti 
~    I  tak  a  then  bast  ptss'd  tbdr  q»ct  pbcc ; 
Ot  in  my  beat  1  Be 
foor'd  to  (he  cool  bank  b  tlic  sunsncr  Ixats, 
'Mid  wide  ffaaa  meadows  wbich  the  sunshtar  &IU, 
And  watch  the  warm  gnreiMauffled  C«mnor  bills, 
wonder  if  tboa  banot'si  tbeif  ihy  itVMts. 

'or  most,   I   know,  ihoa  toT'jt  rcttrM  ffwioA. 
Thee,  at  the  ferry,  Oxfbnl  liders  blkhe, 

Retnraing  booie  on  (ummer  tif)M,  bate  met 
Croaaing  the  taifbng  Thames  at  Bablock-hitbe, 

Trailing  in  the  cool  atnam  thy  fingers  ««i. 
As  the  slow  punt  swings  round : 
And  leaning  bacx wards  m  a  pensiw  drnio. 

And  fbatoiog  in  tby  bp  a  heap  of  Aowos 

Pbck'd  in  xhy  fielda  and  distant  Wychwood  bowers, 
And  ibinc  eyes  rvstiDg  on  tbe  iDoonlit  stream: 

And  then  tbey  hnd,  tod  thou  an  seen  oo  inoce. 
Maidros  who  from  the  diuact  hamlets  come 

To  dance  around  tbe  Fyiicld  elm  in  May, 
Oft  thraagb  Uie  daikcning  fiddi  hare  seen  tbee  roam. 

Or  CToas  a  stile  inio  tiie  pulilic  way. 
Oft  tfaoa  bate  gifen  them  store 
Of  flowers— the  frail-leaf'd,  white  aatntops— 

Dark  blorbdls  drencb'd  with  dews  of  surnmrr  eves, 

And  fmjit  orchbts  witb  tpoard  letvei — 
But  onoe  has  wocds  ibe  can  repOR  of  ibce. 


MATTHEW  ARNOLD 

Aad,  above  Codstow  Bridge,  vhca  bay-tiowS  hn 
In  Jane,  snd  many  a  K/the  ia  sinuUoe 

McD  wbo  tlmugli  thcne  wide  fieUs  of  I 
Whcfc  bLei-wing'd  snllows  bandt  tbe  ; 

To  htthe  ia  tbe  abtndoii'd  bther  fMS| 
Haiv  oficii  ftsi'd  ibcc  ■cai' 
Sioing  upon  tbt  titcf  bank  o'ognwa: 

Mari^d  ihioe  ouibodtsh  ffA,  ihj  figuR  if«4 

Tb;  dark  nguc  cjes,  sod  mH  dbstncud  «; 
B■^  ^KD  tbcy  came  from  faaibii>£,  tfaon  wen , 

A<  vxae  looe  boraestead  ia  tbe  Cwnor  UOs, 
WIktc  at  ber  opeo  door  tbe  bosKvife  daoBi 

Tfaoo  1»M  be«a  seca,  or  baa^ag  on  a  gw 
To  watcb  tbe  tbiedien  in  ibe  moisj  buas. 

Children,  who  raily  tsogc  tbew  t]o]«s  tsd  !■ 
For  cresses  from  ibe  rills. 
Haie  known  tbce  watcbing,  all  an  April  day. 

Tbe  springiog  putntt  oad  the  feeding  kioei 

And  iiuri(*d  dm,  wbcD  ibe  sun  oome  a«  Md 
Tbrou^  tbe  long  dcwj  gn»  more  slow  awajt. 

Ia  aaCBDO^  OB  tbe  iltim  of  B*f>t(7  Wood, 
Wbert  aioat  tbe  Cip^iet  by  the  turf-edged  viy 

Pitch  their  wnoked  tens,  and  every  b«»b  yon  SRJ 
Witb  scarlet  potcbe*  ofg'd  aod  dutds  of  gnyi 

Above  tbe  fbren-grouad  oll'd  Tbemly 
The  blacktiiid  pickitig  food 
Sees  thee,  nor  stops  bis  mnl,  (tor  fan  a>  all  [ 

So  oAea  has  be  kaown  thcv  pat  him  amy ' 

Rapt,  twirBog  ia  Uiy  band  a  mibc/d  sfnyi' 
And  wailiag  (bt  the  spark  Aom  Heaven  lo  fall 


MATTHEW  ARNOLD 

Ad  ODce,  in  witucr,  on  the  cauMwajr  chill 
Wlicre  hotoe  thiongh  Aooded  fields  foot-triveUers 

Hut-c  I  Dot  pua'd  ibee  oo  the  wooden  bridge 
Wnpt  in  thy  dcoi  aai  bnding  with  tlic  snow. 

Thy  face  lowvd*  Hinktcy  aixl  i»  wintry  tidge? 
And  thou  hut  ditnb'd  the  hJI 
And  gaia'd  ibe  white  brow  of  the  Cumaor  raof;e  j 

Tutn'd  once  to  watch,  while  thick  the  soowlbkM  fill, 

The  line  of  fotil  light  in  Chritt  Cbvch  hall- 
Then  MHight  thy  Mnw  in  some  DttjueUet'd  {nnge. 

lut  what — I  dreaoi!     Two  bundled  yean  aie  flowa 
Since  first  thy  story  ran  thiough  Oxford  luUa, 

And  the  grarc  GUntil  did  the  ule  insctibe 
Thu  ihoa  wen  waadcr'd  from  the  studious  walla 

To  kwa  ttiaagc  uo,  and  jota  a  Gipsy  tribe : 
And  thou  ffom  earth  an  gone 
Long  since,  and  in  Mme  ^uiet  cfaurchyml  laidi 

SooM  GOtattty  ooolt,  where  o'er  thy  unknown  grave 

Till  {grasses  anii  while  flowcnog  neulcs  wam^ 
Under  a  dark  ted-fruiicd  ytw^Fee*!  tbade. 

■No,  no,  thou  hut  not  fch  the  lapse  of  hours. 
I'tir  wbai  wean  oat  the  life  of  mortal  men  i 

"Tis  thM  from  chngc  to  chsngc  tbtir  being  roils  i 
Tis  that  repeated  shocks,  agdn,  agKn, 

Exhaust  the  energy  of  BBongtM  soub, 
And  omb  the  ebstic  powers. 
Till  bating  used  our  nen-es  with  bliss  and  teen, 

And  tired  upon  a  ibounnd  schetnes  oar  wit, 

To  the  jnst-pSDiing  Genius  we  remit 
Our  worn-out  life,  and  are — what  vc  have  bcciL 


»f 


MATTHEW  ARNOLD 

Tboa  tun  not  liwd,  why  sfaonUu  thou  pa 
Thou  hadtM  vm  tint,  mm  boinesi^  «iw 

Ebe  wen  thou  long  noce  number'tl 
EIm  badst  thou  tfeat,  like  oibcr  nxn. 

The  gCMiaiiou  of  thjr  pecra  ue  fled, 
And  vc  ouKctires  shall  go : 
But  thou  posiMM»  aa  iminortal  lot, 

And  we  imgioe  thee  «x«TOpt  iram 

And  liring  u  thou  Itv'st  on  Glanfil'a 
BticMjc  thoa  hidst — what  vc,  alas, 


For  earif  <lidtt  thon  Imve  the  wodd, 
Fresh,  tuMUrencd  to  the  world  wii 

Firm  to  their  mnrk,  not  spent  on 
Free  from  the  sick  rt*j)>ue.  the  Ungvid 

Which  much  to  Iutc  tried,  ia  mach  I 
O  Life  unlilw  to  Oiors! 
Who  Snctuaie  idly  wttbout  temi  or  kom 

Of  whom  each  xnTes,  nor  knows  for  % 

And  eich  half  tii<e»  a  huodrcd  diAema 
Who  wut  tike  thee,  btt  not,  like  tbc^ 


Thou  vaitctt  for  the  spcufc  fnm  Hnna: 
V»gue  balf-belicvcrs  of  our  camal  creeds, 

Who  ncrer  deeply  fdt,  aor  clc«ily  wl 
Whotc  insight  ne»er  bn  borne  fnwt  in  <l 

WhoK  wnik  resolves  neier  have  been 
!''or  whom  each  year  we  sec 
Breeds  ucw  begiiinin]{S,  dinppaintaKatS 

Who  hesitMe  and  fatter  Me  away, 

And  loM  to-morrow  the  grouod  woo 
Ah,  do  not  we,  Windcrer,  await  it 


MATTHEW  ARNOLD 

'ry  wc  imit  H,  but  it  ttUI  delays. 
And  ibcn  we  Mflert  nd  amonign  tn  Om^ 

Wlw  most  has  sufTerM,  uk«  dcjecMcUy 
His  Mat  upon  (he  intclkcuul  ibroae; 

And  all  his  tioic  of  »d  expcnencc  be 
Laja  bare  of  wrctelwd  day« ; 
Tell*  u  his  misery's  birth  ud  growth  aad  tigHt, 

And  how  the  dying  sfork  of  hope  wis  fed. 

And  how  the  brent  ww  soothed,  and  how  the  litad, 
And  all  bis  bonrly  nricd  anodyon- 

riu>  (ot  out  wttMt :   aod  w«  othen  pine, 
Ai>d  viab  the  loag  nfaipfiy  timin  wimld  eni. 

And  wkite  ill  claiiii  to  bJiat,  iikI  try  lo  bear, 
With  do«c-li]i|>*d  Pkiirncc  for  oar  only  rriertd, 

Ssd  PabcDce,  too  near  nei^bbonr  to  Despair  i 
Bui  oone  has  hope  like  thine. 
Tbo«  ihnxfib  tbe  Adds  and  through  the  woods  do«  stray. 

Roaming  the  eoinRry-iide^  a  truant  boy, 

Nntsiog  thy  project  in  unclouded  joj, 
And  every  dodit  kwg  Uowd  by  time  away. 

[)  bam  in  days  whm  wits  were  frc^h  aod  dfjx, 
And  life  nn  giily  ts  the  spaikliag  Thames ; 

Before  tluB  stnage  disease  of  modern  life. 
With  its  sick  bony,  its  di»ideil  aims, 

Its  heads  o'ertjtx'd,  its  ptlsicd  he'^tts,  was  rH^^ 
Fly  bence,  ow  contact  fear ! 
Still  fly,  plonge  decfer  ra  the  bowrring  wood  I 

Anne,  at  Dido  did  with  f>r«are  stetn 

From  her  false  frietMl's  approach  in  Hadn  nm, 
Wate  ci  away,  and  keep  diy  solitude. 


MATTHEW  ARNOLD 

tJuil   Dursiag  the  uocODquer^le  fiopc:, 
SiiU  clutchiag  the  mrioljblr   Uiadc, 

With  a  free  oaward  iinpulM  brushing  thraugh, 
By  night,   the  iiJver'd  branches  of  lie    gbdt — 

F^  oo  the  forest-ikuu,   where  none  jiunce, 
Oa   some   mild  pastoral   slope 
Emerge,  and  lestiDg  on  the  moonlit  pales, 

Freshen  thy   llowera,  as   in  tbrmer  years, 

With  dew,   or   \iMea  with   enchanted  on, 
Fiom  the  dark  dingles,  to  die  nighciogiles. 

But  fly  our  paths,   our  feverish   contaa   fly! 

For  strong  the  infectioa  of  our   mriital   snife. 

Which,  though  it  gives  tio  bliss,  yrt  tpoib  fer 

And  we  should  win  thtc  fiom  iby  own  fm  li^ 

Like  us  distracted,  anJ  like  us  unblcst. 

Soon,  soon  ihy  cheer  would  die. 

Thy  hopes  grow  timorous,  and  unfix 'd  thy  poM 

And  thy   clear  aims  be  c:oss  and  shifting  nadti 
n  ^.1   .1 —  .L-  -i_j 


MATTHEW  ARNOLD 


ynung  Eglii*1mnM)  MmUn  of  the  w>*nt 
And  BUtcb'd  bis  rwEilrr,  mi  ibook  out  more  sn], 
And  iMf  lai  night  btid  en  tfldrgaiatljr 
I    OV  the  blue  MkUxad  vat«n  with  the  gile, 
^K  Betwixt  tbr  Syrta  and  (o(t  Sicily, 
^B      To  when  the  Atlamic  niTn 
^K>ut«ide  thr  Wntrra  Strains  md  unbrtit  vSh 
^    TboT,  whtf«<[owD  cloody  dift,  ihioiif  b  iheta  of  fMm, 
Shy  tnlfickera,  lh«  dirk  Ibntaos  comet 
And  on  the  beach  undid  hb  corded  bales. 


*„.. 


TbihmeU 


|_IARK!  ah,  the  hTi^tingifel 

'  *      The  nwny-tliraated  ! 

Hirfc!   from  thai  mooolil  oed.-ir  what  •  bum  I 

What  iriumpb  I   bark— what  pa!a  I 

O  Wndenr  from  i  Grecian  «hoie. 

Still,  afW  many  years,  in  diuant  lands, 

Still  neuriihtng  in  thy  bewilder'd  hnin 

That  wild,  ■nqueoch'd,  d(«]MUnkea,  old- world  pain  - 

Sjy,    win  it  nerer  heal  ? 
And  can  thi*  fragrant  bwa 
With  it*  cool  tree*,  and  ni|;hl. 
And  the  tweet,  tranipiil  Tharnet, 
And  moonnhine,  and  the  dew, 
To  thy  rack'd  heait  and  bnin 

Af{ofd  no  bain  i 

Dou  thou  to-night  behold 
Here,  through  the  moonlight  on  this  Engle<h  grass, 


MATTHEW  ARNOLD 


The  unfriendi^  palace  m  the  Thradan  wi] 

Dost  thou  again  peruse  J 

With  Iioi  cheeks  and  aear'd  eyes  " 

The  too  dear  web,  and  thj  dumb  Ststcr'j 

Dost  thou  oace  moie  asuj  j 

Thy  flight,  and  fee!  come  OTcr  tfaee^       M 

Poor  Fugitive,  the  feathery  change 

Once  more,  and  once  more  seem  to  nuke 

With  love  and  hate,  iriumfh  and  agooy, 

LoDe  Daulis,  and  the  high  Cephisuan  wd 

Listen,  Eugenia —  J 

How  thick  the  bursts  come  ciowding  throu 

Again — thou  hearestl 
Eternal  Passioa  1 
Etcnul  Fain  1 


7n' 


S&akesfieare 


•i 


/OTHERS  abide  oar  ai^tuo.     TU 


MATTHEW  ARNOLD 

Wf4-  jFnm  the  Hymn  of  EmpeJecla 

.         IS  it  10  SRull  ■  thiog 

H      '      To  liatr  cajoy'd  ihr  nn, 

^     To  lute  lived  light  in  tht  spring. 

To  h«Te  loTcd,  to  btve  thought,  to  hate  dooe) 
•  luve  adranced  troe  fncods,  and  beat  down  baffing  lbeft[ 

Tlu(  wc  moK  feagn  abliu 
or  doobifid  future  dau, 
And  wlule  we  dnam  on  tliil 
Loae  >ll  our  jMcKnt  itau, 
nd  ttkgau  to  worlds  fet  distant  oar  rtpose! 

»Nm  tn«Klt,  I  know,  yoa  priie 
Whit  pleawm  mxj  be  had. 
Who  look  oa  life  with  eyes 
Estfiagrd,   like  mine,  and  nd  t 
nd  ytt  the  TilUge  chtirt  fieelt  tbr  tnith  more  thka  ^u; 

•      Who'*  lotb  to  law  this  life 
Which  to  hm  little  pdds ; 
His  hard-iask'd  Mobunit  wife, 
His  oAcO'bbour'd  fieldi ; 
ht  boon  wiih  whom  he  talk'd,  the  couatiy  spots  he  knew. 
But  thou,  bccauie  tbou  hcai'bt 
Mea  KofT  «  Hnvco  and  Tue  i 

•    Beeme  tbe  gods  thou  IWk 
FttI  to  mike  blem  thy  state, 
ranbleit,  and  wih  not  dare  to  tiVH  the  joys  there  wxt. 

II  say,   Fear  Dot !    liTe  (till 
Lcafts  hwiHo  effort  Kope. 
But,  since  life  teems  with  tlU 
Nuse  no  extrav^ant  ba|ie. 
tcauK  tlKM  imtt  not  drcui,  Itoo  Mced'tt  not  then  despair. 


WILLIAM   BRIGHTY  It 


The  Flowers 


■yi^HEN  Lore  arose  in  heart  an) 

To  wake  the  world  to  grca 

'  What  can  she  give  me  now  ? '   sal 

Who  thought  to  win  some  costlj 

He  rose,  he  ran,  he  stcwp'd,  he  ch 
And  soon  the  Flowers,   that   Lo* 

In  Greed's  hot  grasp  were  fray'd  bi 
And  Greed  said,   'Flowers!    Cat 

He  flung  them  down  and  went  his 
He  cared  no  jot  for  thyme  or  ro 

But  boys  and  girls  came  out  to  pla' 
And  some  took  these  and  some 

Red,  hlue,  nnd  white,  and  green  an 
And   at  ihcir  touch   the  dew   retui 

And  all  the  bloom  a  thousandfold— 
Sii  rod,   so  rijie,   the   roses  bum'd 


7SS. 


The  Thought 


T  NTO   llip   skies,   one   summer's 
I   sent   a   little  Thought   away 
U]^  to  where,   in   the  blue  round. 
The  sun   sat  shining  without   soun 

Tlien  my  Thought  came  back  to 
Little  Thought,  what  did  you  se« 
In  the  regions  whence  you  comei 
And   when   I   spoke,   my   Thought 


WlLtlAM  DRIGHTY  RANDS 


I 


I 


I 

I 
I 


Uut  the  bKaUied  of  whit  was  that, 
la  the  putr  bright  lajipcr  lii  i 
And,  bKauM  my  Tboi^ht  to  »hane, 
1  knew  she  had  btca  ftliooe  upoo. 

Next,  bj  night  a  Thought  I  tcm 
Up  iaio  Uk  firaunwoi ; 
When  the  eager  sur*  were  Mt, 
And  tlie  still  mooa  sJione  abouL 

And  my  l*houghi  went  |«ii  the  moon, 
Id  brtwecQ  the  sUn,  but  toon 
Held  hei  breath  and  diim  not  dir, 
For  the  fear  that  oorered  hcri 
Then  ibe  thought,  to  thii  demur  t 

*D>re  I  look  beneath  the  shade. 
Into  where  the  world*  uv  nude; 
Where  the  t*sia  and  ttin  are  wrought ! 
Shall  I  meet  another  I'houghi ! 

'  Will  tbu  other  Tliought  hare  wings  { 
Shall  I  meet  strange,  bnrenly  things! 
Tboagbi  of  Tbo«)ghu,  and  Light  of  Limits, 
Breath  of  Breaths,  and  Night  of  Nighti  * ' 

Then  tay  Thought  bc^an  to  hark 

Id  the  iltomiBMed  dark, 

Till  liic  ailcfice,  over,  uader, 

Made  ber  heart  beat  mace  than  tlnuider. 

And  my  Thought  caroe  trerabSng  back. 
But  wiifa  •omethbg  on  her  track, 
Aad  vhh  lonxthiag  at  ber  sidet 
Nor  till  abc  has  lind  and  died, 
Lived  and  died,  and  liicd  ag^tn. 
Will  that  awful  dtiog  Ktm  plain. 


6gj 


m 


WILLIAM   PHILPO 


7S7* 


Mdriia  Su4e 


low.  1 


/^P  4I]  the  Aowcn  rising  now, 
^— '     Tho«  only  Mw'n  ihe  Iwad 
Of  thai  uAopen'd  drop  of  snow 
I  placed  bc)^  Uiy  bn). 


In  >ll  ibc  blooms  ilut  blow 
Tlon  hut  IK)  funher  )Mit, 

Save  those  the  hour  I  uw  thee 
1  laid  abore  thy  heart. 

Two  snowdrojM  for  onr  boy  snd  | 
A  primrose  blown  for  me,  ^ 

Wreailied  with  om  oftea-play'd-wil 
Ftom  each  briglit  head  (m  tliec. 

And  M>  I  f;rdced  thee  for  thy  gia] 
And  nude  thc»c  tokens  fut 

^'ith  that  old  silver  bean  I  giTc^ 
My  first  gift — and  my  last. 


I  drewn'd,  ber  bibe  upon  he«  brea^ 
Here  she  might  lie  >od  calmly  na 
Her  h^npy  cya  on  ibai  far  UU 
That  baclu  the  lacKbcape  freah  at 

I  hoped  her  thought*  would  thrid 
Where  careless  birds  on  love  cai 
And  gaze  those  af{)le-bloasonu 
To  revel  io  ibe  boundless  \i^m. 

tD6 


WILLIAM  PHILPOT 

But  DOW  bcr  Otcuhy  of  ligbt 

It  ablcT  Sttcer  Co  the  light, 

And  tnnls  fnc  md  nnconGiwd 

Througb  dnuc  and  rare,  through  rorm  and  mind. 

Or  ebe  ker  life  ta  br  complete 
Hith  (bund  new  chaniK'U  full  and  meet— 
Then,  O,  whut  ryes  *«  leaning  o'ct, 
If  fitter  tkui  tbef  were  before! 

WILLIAM  (JOHNSON)  CORY 
S,        JUimnermus  in  Church 

iRij-itf* 
yOU  promivc  braiYnR  free  frooi  strife, 

*      Pun  uutk,  and  perfect  change  of  willt 
Bm  sweet,  awcct  is  this  bunun  life, 

So  sweei,  I  fain  would  breathe  it  uiU| 
Tow  chillj  tUfS  I  can  forgo, 
This  warm  kiad  world  U  all  I  Icdow. 

You  Mjr  there  U  no  substance  bene, 

Cm  fRSt  Tc«lily  above: 
Back  from  that  mid  I  shrink  to  fear. 

And  cfaild-&ke  hide  myself  in  fawc  t 
Show  roe  wbM  angels  feel.  Till  then 
I  cling,  a  mere  weak  nun,  to  men. 

You  bad  me  lilt  my  mean  desires 
From  faltering  lips  and  6tivl  vdat 

To  sexless  souls,  ideal  quires, 

Uoweatied  voices,  wocdieu  stndm: 

My  mind  with  fonder  welcome  owns 

One  dear  dead  (riead**  rvmember'd  (ones. 


WILLIAM  (JOHNSON)  COl 


Forsooth  ttie  )i(c!«nt  we  imisi  gnp|| 
To  that  which  cannot  pas»  iw^ 

All  beauteous  things  for  which  we 
By  laws  of  lime  and  space  decaj 

But  O,   tlie  leiy   reason   wliy 

I  clasp  tlieni,  a  becstise  they 


7;jj. 


Heraditus 


1 


'T'HEY  told  me,  Heracliius,  they  told  me  yr 
*      They  brought  me  bitter  ocws  to  hc*r  ai 

to  shed. 

1  wept  as  I  rcmcmbcr'd  how  olteo  you  and 
Had  tired  the  sua  with  talking  and  sent  him  d 

And  now  that  thou  art  lying,  my  dear  old  C 
A  handful  of  grey  ashes,  long,  long  ago  ai  r 
Still  are  thy  pleasant  voices,  thy  nightingales, 
For  Death,  he  taketh  all  away,  but  them  be, 


COVENTRY  PATMORB 

Hij,  mlirr  nuAs  more  fair  tbe  heigtit 

Which  cas  with  wlcly  W  oeglKt 
To  <lmd,  ks  lowtT  ladies  raijthi, 

Thu  grace  could  nM«t  with  dhrtsfcctt 
That  she  with  happy  favour  feeds 

Allegiance  from  a  love  to  high 
That  thence  no  falw  conceit  proceeds 

Of  diflemce  bridj^  or  state  put  by  i 
BccauM  althodgh  ia  act  and  word 

As  lowly  a«  a  wife  can  be. 
Her  manners,  when  they  call  me  lord, 

Remind  n»e  'tis  by  courtesy  j 
Not  with  her  lean  cor(«(M  of  will, 

Which  would  my  proud  at!cctiaa  hurt, 
But  by  tbe  nobk  style  that  still 

Imputes  aa  unaitain'd  dewrt; 
Because  b«r  fiiy  lod  lolty  brow*. 

When  all  b  won  which  hope  can  ask, 
Rdea  a  (ight  of  hopelcH  mows 

That  bright  in  riigin  ether  huki 
Became,  though  free  of  the  outer  court 

I  am,  this  Teai|Je  keeps  hi  shrine 
Sacred  lo  Hexvent    because,  in  short, 

She's  oot  and  laetei  can  be  mine- 


7rf/, 


'/ffuerr  denti* 


<  T  P  I  wtte  dead,  you'd  soiaeiimet  say,  Poor  Child !  * 
L  ^     The  dear  lips  tiWTcr'd  as  they  spak^ 

nd  ibc  teat)  brake 
From  rye«  whkh,  not  to  grieve  me,  brightly  nniled. 
Poor  Child,  poor  Child  I 
I  Mem  to  hear  yout  laugh,  your  talk,  your  soflfr 


^. 


COVENTRY  PATMORE 


4 


It  is  not  mie  that  Love  trill  do  dd 

Poor  Child! 

And  did  you  think,   when  you  so  cried 

How  I,   in  lonely  nights,  should   lie   Jw 

And  of  those  words  your  full  avengett 

Poor  Child,  poor  Child!  I 

And   now,   unl<?s9  it  be 

That  5weet  amends  ihHce  told  are  com 

O  God,  hare  Thoo  Be  mercy  upon  mi 

Poor  Child ! 


7ff2- 


7>eparture 


I 


TT  was  not  like  yoiu'  great  and  giacic 
■*      Do   you,   that  haye  native  other 

Never,  my  Love,  repent 

Of  how,  that  July  afternoon, 

You  went, 

With   sudden,   unintelligible  phrase, 

And  friiiliten'd  eye. 


COVENTRY  PATMORE 
tiMg  cbe  hminous,  [MtlKik  lulk 

Whilst  I  drew  ncv, 

BecMM  yon  vpoke  n  low  tlut  I  could  tcucdf  hear. 

Bat  tU  at  once  to  leave  me  n  the  last, 

Moie  M  tbc  wonder  than  the  loiit  ■ghut, 

With  budJlcd,  untntclligSble  phruc, 

And  frightca'd  eye. 

And  t9  y**^  jouraejr  of  ail  dajn 

With  not  one  kiss,  or  a  good*t)yc, 

And  the  ody  lurcksa  \o6k  the  look  wiib  wlucb  jou  t>«u'd : 

Twu  all  Bolike  yow  gnu  aad  grackM*  ways. 


Wfifs. 


The  Toys 


AjI  Y  little  Son,  fflio  Iwk'd  froia  tb«tgbtful  tyci 
^*^     And  mond  and  ipokc  in  quiet  gtoviMfi  wix^ 
IHaving  my  law  the  KTenth  time  diiobey'd, 
1  (track  lun,  and  dismiat'd 
Wiih  hard  wonls  and  nnkiss'd, 

Hi)  Mother,  who  was  pattern,  bdag  dead. 

fiiaiing  leu  his  grief  tbotdd  hinder  ileep^ 
raited  hii  bed, 

Iband  Urn  sismbcring  dcep^ 
'idi  darken'd  tydids,  and  their  luhes  yet 
ran  his  btc  Mhbiag  wet 
I,  with  noaa, 

away  hj*  tears,  left  others  of  my  own  t 
or,  on  a  table  drawn  betide  his  bead, 
He  had  put,  within  hi*  fcach, 
A  box  c^  counters  and  a  rtd-««in'd  non^ 
n  piece  of  gins  abnded  by  the  beach, 


COVENTRY  PATMOM 


And  SIX  or  seven  shelly 

A  bottle  with  bluebells, 

And  two  French  copper  coins,  ranged  there 

To  comfort  his  tad  heart. 

So  when  that  night  I  pray'd 

To  God,   I   wept,  and  said : 

Ah,  when  at  last  we  lie  with  trancM 

Not  vexing  Thee  in  death, 

And  Thou   remcmbercsl  of  what  toy» 

We  made  our  joys, 

How  weakiy  nnderstood 

Thy  great  commanded  good. 

Then,   fatherly  not  less 

Than  I  whom  Thou  hast  moulded  trom 

Thou'lt  leave  Thy  wrath,  and  say, 

'I  will  be  Sony  for  their  childishness.* 


7tf^ 


ji  Farewell 


COVENTRY  PATMORE 

When  the  one  ilM(in{  of  our  widowhead, 

The  iwnling  Cntf, 

UAmi, 

And  BO  Aewi  blur  onr  vft» 

To  Kc  the  peach-Uoom  come  io  evnung  ikin^ 

pCTchknce  we  miy, 

Wbcre  now  this  night  it  day, 

Aad  ma  through  faith  of  nil!  ivenK)  ftrt, 

Miking  Ml  circle  of  out  bainbhmem, 

AnuxM  meet; 

The  bitter  joomry  to  the  bosme  »  sweet 

StMOOaDf  the  termless  intu  of  our  content 

WUl  tcus  of  recognition  ocvrr  dry. 


SYDNEY  DODELL 

rrfj-.  Tie  BallaJ  of  Keith  of  Jiavehtom 

npHE  nuraitir  of  the  mourning  gho4t 
*      TS«  keep!  the  tbadowy  kine, 
'  O  Keith  of  RaTetuon, 
Tbe  sorrows  of  thy  lioe  I  * 

■^  RitdMOB,   RxtrUtrm, 

Tb«  merry  \aaii  thn  leads 
Down  tbe  golden  moraing  hill, 
And  thro'  the  «l«cr  HMMlsi 

Rare1«U>D,  RiTclMon. 

Tbe  mile  bmrMh  tbe  tref. 
The  mud  thu  kefi  hrr  mother's  kiae^ 

The  Mtig  thn  ung  she ! 


SYDNEY  DOBELL' 

Sh<;  sang  her  soog,  she  kept  her  I 
She  sat  beoeach   the  thorn, 

When  Andrew  Keith  of  Ravelstoa 
Rode  thro'  the  Monday  monk 


His  henchmen  sing,  his  hawk-belli 
His  belted  jewels   shine; 

O    Keith  of  Ravelston, 
The  sorrows  of  thy  line! 


>  belli 

I 


Year  after  year,  where  Andrew  cai 
Comes  evening  down  the  glade, 

And  still  [here  ^ts  a  mooosbine  g 
Where  tat  the  sunshine  maid. 

Her  misty  hair  is  faint  and  lair. 

She  keeps  the  shadowy  Icioe; 

0  Kcitli  of  Ravclston, 
The  sorrows  of  Uiy  line! 

1  by  my  hjnd  ujion  ilie  stile, 
The  5iile  is   lime  and   cold, 

The  liurnie  tlini  j;oi.'S  bjbblirg  by 
S.lys   naught  thai   c;in  be  told. 

Yet,  stranger !  here,  from  year  to 
She  kei-ps  her  shadowy   kinc ; 

O   Keith  of  Rinelsion, 
The   surtUMa  of  thy   line! 

Step  out  three  steps,  wliere  Andre 
Why  blanch   thy  cheeks  for  fear 

The  ancient   stile  is   not  alone, 
'Tis  not  the  burn  I  hear  1 


9"* 


SyONEY  DOBELL 


Be 


She  nulcea  her  unmeniorMl  miota, 
Sbe  Iceepa  her  ihadowjp  klnei 

O  Keith  of  Ravelsiofl, 
The  MitTOwt  of  thy  Unci 

^7<f^.  Return ! 

I  ETURN,  nturn!   til  mgbi  ray  Ismp  !>  burning, 
AQ  nighi,  like  it,  my  wid*  ryes  watch  aiid  bum ; 
.'Ax  it,  t  fiulc  and  ptlc,  whca  day  returning 
Bears  witsns  that  ibe  abwnt  cu  leCun, 
Return,  return. 

jEke  El,  I  tnsen  with  ■  lengthening  sadness, 
Like  i^  I  bum  to  waste  and  waste  to  burn. 
Like  it,  I  spRw)  the  golden  oil  of  gladneu 

^      To  fred  the  MfTOwy  signal  for  return, 

^^  RRtitn,  irturo. 

^Kike  h,  like  it,  whene'er  ibe  eut  wbd  nngi, 
^P  bend  and  shake  j   like  it,  I  <]uake  and  yram, 
~Wheo  Hope's  Lite  bulierflics,  with  whiapcring  wing*, 
r     Fly  io  out  of  the  daik,  lo  &II  and  ban — 
^H    Bunt  in  the  watchCre  of  miam, 
^*  Return,  return. 

Like  it,  the  i-ery  flame  wliereby  I  ptne 
Cbasames  me  lo  its  nattire.     While  I  mouin 
^_My  aoul  becon»ea  a  better  soul  than  mine, 
^■And  from  its  brigliicniog  beacon  t  discern 
^Bfy  (tarry  lore  go  fbnh  fmiii  me,  and  shine 
^^Kcron  the  seas  a  path  for  thy  return, 
^B  Ronini,  itturo. 

^Return,  return !    all  night  I  see  it  burn, 
Ail  nigbt  it  pnys  like  me,  and  Hfl^  a  twin 


SYDNEY  OOBELL 

or  (wlmM  prw^  hand*  thai  mm  mJ  jnti 
Vrxm  to  ibe  impleailed  akin  for  ihy  miint. 
Dny,   tike  B  golilen   fctur,   locks  ihrm   in. 
And  wans  the  li^t  thiil  nilben,  iho*  ic  hen 

As  w«nnly  still  for  thf  msmi 
Siill  tluo*  the  »{ilcadid  load  opUrts  the  thin 
Pale,  fal«T,  pslen  patience  that  can  learn 
Naught  but  thai  rotin  tigo  for  thy  murn— 
That  aioflc  supplant  sign  for  thy  rrtvrSi 
Retun,  return. 

Return,  return !    let  hap-ly,  Iotc,  or  <•'« 
Thou  touch  the  lamp  the  light  hire  ceased  la 
And  thou,  who  thro'  the  window  didst  dhcern 
I'he  wonted  flame,  shalt  reach  the  topmoM  MM 

To  find  no  wide  tyta  watchiox  tlwe. 
No  withrr'd  wtlcwnc  wddng  thy  rctuin! 
A  passing  ghost,  a  snxAc- wreath  io  tbe  air, 
The  llamelesi  ashes,  and  the  soollen  mm, 
Wum  with  the  liunuh'd  liTe  that  tired  lo  lam 
Bum  out  its  lingeiii^  life  for  thy  rctuin, 
lu  last  of  lingering  life  for  thy  return, 
lu  laU  of  ItngeiiDg  life  to  light  thy  late 
Return,  return. 


7tf7. 


yt  Qxmted  Calendar  > 

FIRST  came  the  prinvoK, 
On  the  bank  high, 
Like  a  niaideo  lookiog  forOi 
Prom  the  window  of  a  tower 
When  ihc  battle  roDs  below, 
So  look'd  she, 
And  »w  the  sionns  go  bj 


ftrA 


SYDNEY  DOBELU 

Then  cunt  Uic  wind-Aow«r 
In  ihr  nilcj  left  bctiiad, 
Ai  a  vioundcd  maidcti,  pale 
Wnh  inirpk  sbtaks  of  woct 
Wbea  Uie  bulk  hu  roll'd  by 
Waadcn  to  aad  fro, 
So  loMcr'd  the, 
JUahtnli'ii  ia  tlie  wiad. 

Then  came  the  duties, 
On  the  fmt  of  May, 
Like  ■  bvuxr'ij  thow's  adnac* 
Whik  the  crowd  niu  by  the  way, 
ten  tboMHod  Aowen  about  them  ihcy  came  Dooping 
^  ihrougk  the  fieldi. 

As  I  bappy  ffOfk  come, 

So  camt  ih«y, 

At  a  happy  [xoj>le  come 

When  ilie  war  baa  roll'd  away, 

With  doace  and  taboe,  pif>e  and  dnioi. 

And  all  make  holiday. 

Tbea  came  the  cowslips 

Like  a  dancei  ia  the  fair, 

She  apnad  her  httlc  mat  of  grcra. 

And  od  it  daaocd  the. 

With  a  fillet  bouod  about  her  bcow, 

A  fillet  tcond  her  happy  brow, 

A  £oMen  &lki  round  her  braw. 

And  ribica  in  her  hair. 


W 


SYDNEY  DOB ELL 


76S. 


Laos  7)e« 


IN  the  lull  the  codSe  wnts,  aod  the 
^  At  hif^  belt  the  cofBn  nuts,  and  tb« 
The  bH  of  stitc  it  hiMig  wkh  cnpe— the 

whtre  »he  ««  wed — 
And  like  an  npnsht  coqMc  chc  situih  gazing  diu 
Hour  b;  honr  lier  MTTing'flWfi  «ni«r  by  llie 
And  with   Hcpt  of  muAcd  wee  pu  bfSM 

silent  Boor, 
And  manlial  nuffrltr  romd,  a&d   look  from 

with  «yelids  rcdi 
'Touch  him  oot,'  ihe  sbriek'd  and  cried, 

dcidl' 

'O  my  own  dtar  mi««iw,'  the  ancient  Ni»n 
'iScTCR  long  days  vaA  scren  loog  ntgha  you 

him  where  be  lay.' 
■ScTen  long  days  a&d  sewn  loag  nights,'  the  boai 
'Seven    long  days  and   Mtefl    long    nigfacs, 

Warrener  gray) 
'Seven,'  nid  tbe  old  Heachmau,  and  how'd 
'  Od  your  livet ! '  *he  iliriek'd  and  cried, '  he  is  b 
Then  a  father  Priest  tbey  sooght. 
The  PricM  that  U^t  brr  all  she  kl 
And  they  told  him  of  her  loss. 
'  For  she  is  mild  and  iweet  of  will. 
She  loi-ed  him,  and  Id*  word*  hc  f 
And  he  (hall  bcal  her  ill.' 
But  her  watch  she  did  doc  om^. 
He  bleu'd  her  where  the  sat  distnu 
And  show'd  h«j  boly  cnns, — 
The  cross  she  kiss'd  from  year 


SYDNEY  DOBELL 

the  odtbcT  nw  nor  heardi 

And  Had  be  in  her  deaf  vtf 

AU  be  had  been  wont  to  inch, 

AQ  she  hid  been  ibnd  to  hear, 

MiMtfl'd  fnytr,  nd  solemn  ^wecb, 

Bat  ilie  WBu-trr'd  not  ■  word. 
ily  wbcn  be  turo'd  to  tpeik  wtiii  tho»r  who  wept  sboul 

the  bed. 
te  your  Brcsl'  she  slirich'd  rmI  cried,  'he  is  but  newly  dead!' 
sen  how  ssdly  lie  ture'd  from  ber,  it  were  wonderful  to  tell, 
Etd  be  stood  beside  the  deatb-hed  u  by  one  who  ilumbcn  well, 
nd    he   lean'd  o'er   him   who  Uj  there,    and   in  cautious 

whitper  bw, 
Ic  b  not  dead,  but  sleepMh,'  said  the  Pnrst,  aad  smoMh'd 

his  brow, 
>lee|ietb  i '  Mid  she,  tookinK  up,  and  the  mo  nae  h  ber  face ! 
"le  must  be  better  than  I  tbMj^ht,  for  the  sleep  i«  very  sound.' 
ie  is  better,'  said  the  Priest,  and  cali'd  her  imidena  rouod. 
'ilk  then  cme  that  ancient  dame  who  nursed  ber  when 

■  cfaildi 
iNMncI*  sbcsigh'd,  'O  Nurse!'  the  cried,  'ONunel' 
■nd  then  sbe  snkd. 

And  then  sbe  wept)    wiib  that  they  drew 

AboM  her,  a*  of  old  i 

Her  dying  eyes  were  *wc«t  and  blue, 

Her  tr«inhliii)t  touch  was  cold; 

But  ibe  said,   'My  maidens  true, 

No  neat  wecpiitj  and  well -away; 

Let  tliem  kill  the  feast, 

I  would  be  happy  ia  my  sod. 

"He  it  better,"*  »kh  the  Priest ( 

He  did  but  sleep  tbe  weary  day, 

And  will  waken  whale. 


SYDNEY  DOBELLL 


Carry  me  to  Us  dear  «de, 
Aad  [«  the  halls  be  tiimi 
Whistly,  wliistly,'  said  she, 
'  I  am  wan  widi   watchiDg  an 
He  must  not  wake  ta  see  me  f 
Let  me  sleep  with  him. 
See  you  keep  the  tryst  for  met 
1   would  rest  till  he  awake 
And  rise  up  like  a  bride. 
But  whistly,  wbisily!'  said  she," 
'Yet  rejoice  your  Lord  doth  Urt] 
And  for  His  dear  sake 
Say   Laui,   Domine.' 
Silent  they  cast  dowa  their  eyes, 
And  every  breast  a  sob  did  rive, 
She  lifted  bet  in  wild  surprise 
And  they  dared  not  disolwj'. 
'  Laui  Dee,'  said  the  Steward,  hoary  whco  her  Ai 
'Lout  DtB^  said  the  Warrcacr,  whiter  than  the  ' 


SYDNEY  DOB  ELL 

But  she  titilbet  wm'd  Kct  l5*»d 
Jot  'Whi«ly,  whi«ijr,'  »id  she. 
'Hrr  hands  wtrc  folded  as  in  cmce^ 
Wc  laid  her  with  her  uiacat  na 
knd  »0  the  village  wrpt. 


WILLIAM  ALLINGHAM 


Tiif  Fairia 

[P  the  niry  moontatn, 
Down  the  ni*hy  gteo, 
}Vit  djTffl't  go  a-huftliftf; 
For  feat  of  liule  men  t 
Wee  folic,  good  folk, 
Trooptng  all  together; 
,  Creeo  jacket,  red  c*p, 

And  wlitt«  owl's  feather  I 

'Down  along  the  mcky  there 

Some  nuke  their  home, 
They  lit  on  crispy  pancakes 

Of  yellow  tide-foam ; 
Some  in  the  reeds 

Of  the  black  niountain  Jake, 
With  frog*  for  theit  waich-dog% 

All  night  awake. 

ligh  M  the  hnUop 
The  old  Khg  sia ; 
He  is  now  so  oU  and  gray 
He'*  nigh  lost  his  wits. 


>>M-i«IP 


WILLIAM  ALLINCHA 


With  a  biiilge  of  white  nnst 

Columblull  he  crosses, 
On  his  stxiel;  journeys 

From  Slieveleaguc  to  Rossesf 
Or  going  up  with  music  _ 

On  cold  siany  nigha  I 

To  sup  with  tlie  Queen 

Of  ifae  gay  Nonhera  Light!. 

They  siole  little  Bridget 

For  seven  years  long  ; 
When  she  carae  down  again 

Her  friends  were  all  gone. 
They  took  her  lightly  back. 

Between  the  oight  acd  momxi 
They  though!  ihai  she  was  last 

But  she  was  de^  with  sotioi 
They  ha?c  kept  her  ever  siace 

Deep  within  tiie  luke. 
On  a  bed  of  flag-leaves,  J 

Wsf-Kmn  till  >t>.  _~w.  ^ 


1 


I. 

1 


WILLIAM  ALLINGHAM 

Wm  Folk,  good  folk, 

Tnwpiog  all  togetbcTt 
GiMB  jacket,  red  cap, 

And  white  owl't  feather  I 

GEORGE   MAC  DONALD 

ho.  That  Holy  Tbmi 

THEY  all  were  looking  fcr  a  Ibg 
■*      To  ilty  ibcir  foM  and  lift  dietn  hi^h ; 
Tliou  care'n,  a  littlr  habjr  thing 
Thai  nude  a  woRias  cry. 

0  Soa  of  Man,  to  right  my  lot 

Naught  but  Thy  ptnencc  cm  anil ; 
Yet  00  the  road  Thjr  ubeds  arc  oot. 
Nor  on  the  Ka  Thy  uil  I 

My  liow  or  wbra  Thou  wilt  not  heed, 

But  come  down  Thine  own  secret  stair, 
That  I'hon  mayst  answer  alt  niy  Deed— 
Yea,  every  bygone  prayer. 

DANTE  GABRIEL  ROSSLTTI 
71.  The  BUsskd  'Damaxei 

iM-ttSt 

'YHE  UeMM  Danwzri  lea&'d  em 

■*       From  the  gold  bar  of  Hrarm : 

Her  blue  gra«  eyes  were  deeper  macfa 

Thia  ■  deep  water,  eren. 
She  had  iJutc  liUes  in  her  h^iod. 

And  the  »lan  b  her  hair  were  icmi. 


DANTE  GABRIEL  ROSfi 


Hcf  robr,  ungitt  rraoi  diisp  to 
No  wTOoght  9awm  did  xlora, 

But  *  wlitw  rose  of  Mary's  pft 
On  the  OKk  meetty  womi 

And  her  lu«r,  lying  down  bcr 
Wu  yellow  like  ripe  corn. 

HoMem'd  she  scarce  had  bera . 

One  of  God'«  cbori»«r»; 
The  wonder  was  oot  ftt  quite 

From  that  [till  look  of  hen] 
Albeit,  to  than  she  left,  her  day 

Had  counted  as  ten  ytats. 

(To  oar  tl  i»  ten  y»ara  of  yean: 
.  ;  .  Yet  iww,  here  io  this  place 

Sureljr  she  lean'd  o'er  me, — ber  haif 
Fell  aU  about  my  face. 

Nothinjt:  the  Aiitiumi-/all  of  lea' 
The  whole  year  seta  Bpace.| 


t  leans^ 


It  wu  the  terrace  of  God's 
That  abe  was  standing  oo, — 

By  Cod  built  over  tlie  ibcrr  depth 
la  which  SjMce  is  begun ; 

So  high,  lliat  looking  downward  the 
She  tcaroe  couM  loe  the  no. 

It  lies  from  Heatm  across  Uie  flon 

Of  ether,  as  a  bridge. 
Bene^ith,  the  tides  of  day  and  ni^it 

W'iih  flame  aad  darkness  ridge 
The  Toid,  as  low  as  where  this  ean 

Spina  like  a  fretful  mklgr. 

m 


DANTE  GABRIEL  ROSSETTI 

Dm  m  iboM  tncts,  with  her,  It  wu 

Tbe  peK«  of  uttrr  lijin 
And  litnue.     For  no  breeze  tnty  itir 

Along  the   Keady  flight 
or  smpbiiB ;   DO  echo  ibere. 

Beyond  all  depth  or  height. 

Hrud  htrdljr,  mbio  of  hex  new  rrieods^ 

Playing  «  holj  gwnn, 
Spake,  gnitle-fiMutfa'd,  among  ibcnasdvet^ 

Their  fifgioal  cha*le  turaet; 
And  the  Mwb,  —^"i"g  up  to  God, 

Wcu  by  her  like  thin  fanua. 

And  itill  ihe  bow'd  benrlf,  and  ttoop'd 

loco  the  TUt  irutc  calm  ; 
T3I  her  boMm'i  pmsurc  mnn  haie  made 

The  bar  ibe  leaoM  on  want^ 
And  the  Uies  luy  a»  if  uleep 

Aloflg  her  bended  ann. 

Prom  the  fixt  lull  of  Hearrn,  &hc  hw 

TidK,  like  a  pulsr,  &h^c  fierce 
TlwMgh  all  the  woikli.     Her  gaxc  sttll  »lroi^ 

la  that  iteep  gulf,  to  pierce 
"^K  awann )    and  then  ^le  ipoke,  at  wbea 

The  Stan  aang  in  their  tpfacrcs. 

*  I  with  dut  he  were  com*  to  nw, 

For  be  will  come,'  she  said. 
'Hare  I  not  pny'd  in  solenn  Hcuteaf 

On  eutfa,  baa  he  Dot  pray'd? 
Are  not  two  ptayen  a  perfect  aoength? 

And  ibaU  1  feel  afiaklf 

9*S 


An 

I 

t 


m 

•At 

I 

13m 

S 

Fine 

(Ah 
fiefb 
Ate 


DANTE  GABRIEL  ROSSETTI 


I 


AU%  and  though  the  end  were  rmch'd  t  . 

Wu  lij  put  undmiood 
Or  bcKM  in  uuit !    AoA  for  her  take 

ShaH  this  (oo  bt  fouod  good? — 
MsT  ihr  clue  lips  that  kocw  not  prajrcf 

PruK  et«f,  thovxh  ihcy  would?) 

•We  two,*  the  wid,  'will  seek  the  gtotw 

Where  the  lidy  Muy  ii. 
With  brr  6*«  hmdnuidou,  whoie  n»atn 

An  Eve  swe<^t  tymphontei  i— 
Ceeilj,  Gennidc,  M^igdakti, 

Margarrt  and  Rowly». 

'Grclc-wise  sit  Uiey,  with  bound  lock* 

And  boMnu  co*eiid ; 
Into  the  fine  cloth,  white  like  Hiine, 

Weating  the  golden  ihrod. 
To  (i»hion  the  binh-robe^  for  tlmi 

Wbo  in  juu  boro,  being  dead. 

'He  (kill  fear,  haply,  and  be  dumb. 

Then  I  wiH  Itf  tny  cheek 
To  Im,  end  lell  about  tmr  Iotc, 

Not  o«ice  ab««h'd  or  wnk: 
And  tbe  dtar  Mother  will  tppnsn 

Mjr  pride,  and  let  me  speak. 

*  Henelf  shall  bnng  na,  hand  in  luad. 
To  HiiD  toood  whom  all  BouJa 

Knc«l— the  uanijmbrr'd  aolenm  htada 
Boiv'd  with  their  auieolcs: 

Aod  Aogds,  meeting  us  «hall  sing 
To  their  citbnna  and  ciiolea. 


DANTE  GABRIEL  ROSSEl 

'There  will  I  ask  of  ChHst  the  La 

Thus  much  for  bim  and  me: — 
To  have  more  blessing  ihaii  on  earth 

lo  nowise ;    but  to  be 
As  then  we  were, — being  m  thea 

At  peace.      Yea,   verily.  , 

'  Yea,  verily  j    when  he  is  come  ^^| 
We  will  do  thus  and   thus  : 

Till  this  my  vigil  seero  quite  strange 
And  almost  fabulous; 

We  two  will  live  at  once,  ooe  life) 
And  peace  shall  be  with  us.' 

She  gazed,  and  lisiea'd,  aod  then  sd 
Less  sad  of  speech  thao  mild, — 

'All  this  is  when  he  comes.'     She 
The   hght  thrill'd  past   her.   fill'd 

With   Angels,   in   strong  level  lapse. 
Her  eyes  pray'd,   and  she   smiled. 

(I   saw  her  smile.)      But   sooa  their  t 
Was  vague   'mid  the  poised  sphere 

Aod   then   she  cast  her  arms  along 
The  golden  barriers, 

And  Lid  her   face  between   her    hjndj 


And 


(I  hejrd  her   teai^s.) 


CEORGE  MEREDITH 


Lwe  m  the  frailer 

ktSM 

%K  yoedn  bnch-tnt  siogtc  on  the  gren-swa/d, 
hiefa'd  uriih  her  iixM  behind  bur  fjolclm  hu»d, 
|d  tmsct  foUed  to  itip  and  ripple  idl/, 
tojr  yoong  love  sleeping  in  the  slude. 
be  be*rt  lo  slide  un  iim  beneath  her, 
ibcr  {uniug  lij«  H  her  wust  1  gAiher  tk>w, 
^  munDcni  At  could  not  but  enbnMX  me: 
woald  she  hold  bm  and  never  let  ne  go  J 


m 


jbe  tqiurret  lod  mym/d  u  the  svrallow, 
In  the  vwatlow  «loi^  tbc  rirtr's  light 
%  tbc  suHace  to  meet  tis  inirtor'd  wingleu, 
r  Uie  seems  in  her  stay  ibu  in  her  iSght. 
ike  tKjtuirel  that  lex|ia  unoDg  the  pt)K-U)|», 
Old  as  the  swiUow  oierhead  at  set  of  sun, 

I  lore  is  hud  to  utcfa  aad  coaijncr, 
libnt  O  the  glory  of  tbc  winaiiig  wen  bhc  woal 


flKKber  tends  her  before  tbe  Uugbii^  raiiror, 
vf  her  bees,  looping  up  her  hair, 
dnsks,  were  this  wild  thing  wedded, 
should  I  lui'e,  and  much  tevt  care, 
tr  moiher  tends  her  before  the  lighted  mirror, 
uag  her  laces,  corabtog  down  her  curb, 
t  tUnks,  were  this  wild  thing  wedded, 
Id  nuss  but  one  for  mmj  hoys  and  girls. 
>         -         * 


GEORGE  MEREDITH 

Heartless  she  ia  u  the  shxlow  in  the  lunAi 

Flying  u>  the  hilb  oo  a  blue  aad  hrwiy  a 
No,  she  i>  Btbim  and  drinkUig  up  her  wmwli 

Eanh  to  htr  is  jouag  u  tbe  iJ^  of  the  J 
Vhiii  she  an  iinkinclKSi,  'tis  but  her  rapid  ifl 

Evrn  as  in  ■  duicc;   lod  ber  wiile  can  h< 
L&e  ihe  sonngtm  May-doud  that  pdu  the 
hoibtoon 

Off  a  wnojr  border,  xhc  wu  nutde  n 


LoTcty  ve  tbe  cimes  of  the  white  owl 

Wavy  in  tbe  diak  lit  by  one  Urgt  v 
Lone  on  the  fir-bnndi,  ha  ratde-note  un 

Brooding  o'er  the  gloom,  spini  tbe  brown 
Darker  gron-s  the  ralley.  more  and  more  for 

So  weir  it  with  me  if  forgetting  could  be 
Tell  the  giamy  boltow  that  holds  tbe  bubbly 

Tell  it  to  (orgM  the  source  that  keep4  it  i 

Stepping  down  tbe  hill  with  her  (ak 

Arm  in  arm,  all  agaioit  the  raying  West, 
Boldly  she  angs,  to  the  merry  tune  sbe 

BriiTc  t«  her  ^ape,   and   swcrter   ubjxmscm' 
Sweeter,  for  sbe  is  what  my  hcait  first 

Whiipcr'd  the  world  w.isi   morning  light  ii 
Loie  that  so  deiires  would  fahi  keep  her 

FaiQ  would  fiiog  the  net,  and  &in  have  ht 

Happy  happy  time,  when  the  white  star 
Low  oter  diin  fields  fnslk  wid)  bloomy 

Near  tbe  face  of  dawn,  that  draws  athwart 
Threading  k  with  colour,  lil:e  sewbcnia 


GEORGE  MEREDITH 

cr  crowd  tint  tfaadn  u  th«  frate  Eut  decpni* 
tlowing,  and  wkh  crioMa  »  loojt  cloud  iwdlx. 
en  wU  111*  mora  »;   and  Mraoj^  the  ti.  Mid  tccrn; 
'  her  eyes ;  her  clwck*  m  coM  as  cold  wa^shelU. 

leaning  on  our  wMihcrv  hills  and  EglUsns 
^ild  clood-mounoin*  thit  drag  the  tiilb  aloBf;, 
tnd>  die  daj  of  j-our  shifting  biillbat  lugbter 

■s  a  dull  face  rrowoing  on  a  MAg. 

abows  \\tt  South-west  a  ri(>|>le-fe)ther'd  bowm 

lo  tdvei  whil«  the  dowh  ate  »bak«i  and  ascend 
;  lite  raid-heBTcn*  a*  they  stream,  tbm  cooncs  a  ivi><t 
ich,  deep  Eke  lore  in  beauty  witboo  nid. 


dawn  ihe  »ighi,  aad  like  an  bfani  to  the  wndov 
gnite  ejn  cnviag  light,  rdeaicd  from  dreaiDK, 
the  ioais,  like  a  white  vsUr-lily 
■I  of  bud  to  b4rais  of  the  ttreanu. 
When  fiwn  bed  ahe  t\ae>  clothed  (ma  neck  to  ankle 
Ib  ber  tong  nightgown  iwm  aa  bought  of  May, 

Efiil  »he  look*,  hke  a  ull  gtrdci»^ily 
;  from  the  night,  and  splendid  for  the  day. 
r  of  iInc  dewi,  dufc  rye4«sb'd  twilighl, 
L>ew-41dded  twitighl,  o'er  ihe  valley's  bnm, 
RnaadfBg  oa  thy  breast  wnga  ihc  dcw-drltghlcd  tkylatk, 
Qow  as  though  the  dewdnps  had  their  loice  in  hira. 
ECddcB  where  the  rose-flush  drinks  the  njlass  planet, 
Pb— ah-fall  he  poore  ths  ipsyiag  fawBda-thowia. 
Let  ne  hnr  her  Infhter,  I  woidd  bs««  ber  effr 
Cool  as  dew  n  twiligbl,  the  larit  aboim  the  tkf»tt%. 


GEORGE  MEREDITH 

Vll  the  ^ih  m  out  wkb  tbrir  baakcta  for 

U]i  laaca,  wood*  through,  they  troop  in 
My  sven  tucU :  *he  knowi  not  why,  but 

Eyn  ibc  bent  incmome*,  and  hangs  btr 
Such  a  look  will  tell  that  the  violets  an 

Coming  the  tosc:  and  uaawarc  a  cry 
Springs  in  bcr  bosom  lor  odows  and  for  coli 

Covert  and  the  nigbliagxie  |    blie  knot 


Kcrchirfd  bud  and  cMn  she  d<ru  between 

Strctming  like  a  willow  gray  id  arrowy 
Some  bend  bciiirti  cherk  lo  graicl,  and  their 

She  will  be;  &he  lifts  them,  and  oo  she 
Black  the  dii'ing  raincloud  breasts  the  iron 

Sbc  is  forth  to  chtex  «  neighbosr  lacking 
So  when  sky  and  grau  met  rolling  dumb  f 

Saw  I  once  a  wliitc  dove,  sole  ligbt  of.  i 
•         •         • 

Prim  Etde  schotan  are  the  ttowcra  ot 

Train'd  to  »iand  in  rows,  and  asking 
1  might  love  them  wcU  but  for  loving  more 

O  my  wild  ones !    they  tdl  nte  more  than  | 
You,  my  wild  one,  you  tell  of  honied  field-r 

Violet,  blueing  e^aotine  in  hk ;    and  ere 
They  by  the  waytidc  ate  caicnt  of  your 

You  aie  of  life's,  on  the  banks  that  line 


Peering  al  her  dumber  the  white  crowns 
Ja!<miiic  windi  tlic  jiMch  with  nvs  two 

Paitcd  is  the  n-indow ;    she  steejis  i    ifac 
Breathes  a  falling  breath  that  caaies 


GEORGE  MEREDITH 

tweeter  unpossess'd,  hiTe  I  said  ol  ha  mj 
Not  while  she  sleeps :  «faile  she  sleeps  die  JHUDetRdfaes. 

^ming  her  to  loie;   she  sleeps;   the  surrj  psone 
Belts  me  to  her  pillow  mider  white  me-msA^ 

feUow  whh  birdfaot-trefmi  nc  the  gns-gbdes; 

YcOow  wKh  dDqoefeil  of  the  dew-gnj  lerf*; 
fdlow  with  sionecrty;   the  moss-flwands  vc  jdlov; 

Bhe-neck'd  the  wbett  sways,  yeflvws^  «>  the  Aaf. 
Greeit-jeUow,  bunts  fitom  the  copse  the  bi^ilog  nfle; 

Shup  as  a  sickle  b  the  edge  of  shadr  and  shiae: 
Eafth  in  her  bcait  laiiglw  lookiitf  at  the  hejrem, 

Tbioking  of  the  barrcM :   I  look  aod  thiDk  af  him. 

Tbb  I  ma;  kaow:   her  drc»sg  and  Bsdmaag 

Such  a  change  of  light  shows  as  when  the  akin  in  iport 
Sbilt  from  dood  to  moooEght;   or  ed^g  orer  dmder 

Slips  a  ny  of  sen ;  or  sweeping  into  pan 
White  sails  fuH;   or  on  the  ocean  borders 

White  sails  lean  aka^  the  warn  icMfia^  green. 
Visioas  of  her  shower  before  mc,  bat  Iron  eyeiigfai 

Guarded  she  would  be  like  the  sno  were  she  leea. 

Front  door  and  back  of  the  mos^d  M  farmhoofe 

Open  with  the  motn,  and  m  a  biec/y  liDk 
Freshly  sparkles  garden  to  soipe-shadow'd  orchard. 

Green  across  a  rill  iritere  on  satid  the  mimiows  wink. 
Busy  in  the  grass  the  early  sun  of  summer 

Swanns,  and  the  blackbird's  mellow  fluting  notes 
Call  my  darling  up  with  round  and  roguish  challenge: 

Quaintest,  richest  carol  of  all  the  sin^ng  throats  i 


GEORGE  MEREDITH 


% 


Cool  was  the  woodadej    coo!  is  bet  wliia  dl 
Keqiing  sweet  ihe  crcam-pMi    and  there 

school, 
CricltMing  below,   nish'd  brown  »nd  red   with   ; 

O  the  dark  translucence  of  the  drep-r^  c 
Spying  from  the  farm,   herself  she  fctch'd  >  p 

Full  of  milk,   and  tilted  for  each  ia   taro  dl 
Then  a  little  fellow,   mouth   up  and  on   Ui<U)^ 

Said,  '  I  will  kiss  you ' :  she  laugh'd  and 


1 


DoTea  of  the  fir-wood  walling  high  our 

Through  the  Jong  noon  coo,  cnwabg  tliroi 
Loose  droop  the  leaves,  and  down  the  iJecK 

Sometimes  pii>es  a  chaffinch  i  loose  droo^ 
CoH-5  t|jp  a  slow  tail   knee-de*p  in  the   ti»«? 

Breathless,  given  up  to  sun  and  gnat  and  t 
Nowhere  if.  she  seen ;   and  if  I  sec  her  nttwt 

Li^hming  may  come,  straight  rains  itai 


m 


GEORGE  MEREDITH 

Ntghilonf  on  hUck  pfim-bnacbrt  our  bccck-m* 
Gaics  in  tfaii  wbiteivu:   nightlong  could  I. 

M«re  nuy  hft  on  dotli  or  death  on  life  be  painced. 
Let  me  clup  ber  soal  to  know  the  cacDot  die ! 

Gossips  count  ber  fauhs;   tbey  soour  >  nvrow  cbaiuber 
Where  there  ii  no  window,  read  not  heaven  or  her. 

*  When  »he  «-»  »  ^Jy'  ooe  «f>M  womtn  ({luvers, 
Pluck*  M  my  hcstn  and  lodi  me  bjr  ihe  ear, 

Faslta  the  had  eacc  as  she  Icant'd  to  luo  and  tumbled  t 
Faults  of  ftaCufC  8Cme  Me,  bMuty  not  complete. 

Yet,  good  goosips,  beauty  that  niak«s  boly 

^  Earth  wd  air,  mair  h«i>e  fulu  from  bead  lo  Teet. 


Hither  she  comn ;   she  conKs  to  me ;  she  tinger*. 

Deefena  ber  brown  eyebrows,  while  in  new  MTfitiie 
High  riM  the  lashes  in  wonder  of  a  manger ; 

Yet  im  I  the  light  nad  \mng  of  her  ryn. 
Something  framda  bare  told  ber  fills  her  hean  to  brimming. 

Nets  her  in  her  bl-ushes,  and  wounds  ber,  aod  tames. — 
Sore  of  ber  haTen,  O  like  a  doie  alighting. 

Arms  up,  she  dropp'd :    cnif  souls  were  in  our  namrt. 


Soon  will  she  lie  like  a  white  frost  sumise. 

Yellow  oats  and  brown  wheat,  barley  pole  a*  rye, 
I^oflg  since  your  sheaTea  have  yielded  to  the  tbreiha. 

Felt  ibe  girdle  looKo'd,  aeeti  tbe  trcMcx  Uy. 
SoOB  will  fthe  lie  like  a  blood-red  nunsct. 
'      Swift  with  the  to-morTow,  grteo-wiog'd  Spring ! 
StBg  froRi  the  South-v'est,  bring  brr  back  ilie  traants, 
.Nightingale  and  iwatlow,  wng  and  dijiping  wing. 


Mf 


Fiir  u  in 

Codd  IGnd 
I  would  ^ 

Every  woodl 
Flashing  I 

Flushing  like 
Streaming 

Flashing  as  i 
All  seem  1 


773- 

WHEN  I 
Sente 
Mindful  were 
Who:   and 
Mindful  were 
Bent  a  bur 
How  the  rasi 
Sister  of  h 

c 

i 
1 


GEORGE  MEREDITH 

Chirping  none,  the  scukt  cicalas  croodi'd  ia  nnks : 

SUck  the  thistle-bnd  piled  its  down-«lk  gray: 
Scuce  Um  ttoay  lizard  suck'd  hollows  in  his  flanks: 
lliick  on  spots  of  ranfaiage  our  drovsed  flocks  hj. 
SuddcQ  bow'd  the  chestnuts  hwi#^*h  a  wind  unhcanL 

Lengtheo'd  ran  the  grasses,  the  tkj  grew  ^ate; 
Thco  amid  a  swift  flight  of  wing'd  seed  whiu  as  curd, 
Clear  of  Umb  a  Youth  sniote  the  maner's  gate. 
God!    of  whom  music 
And  soDg  and  falood  m  pun, 
The  daj  is  dctct  darken'd 
That  had  ihn  hoe  obscme. 

Water,  first  of  singers,  o'er  rockjr  mount  and  mnd, 

First  of  earthly  HOgen,  the  stm-loted  riU, 
Smg  of  him,  and  flooded  the  triples  on  the  reed, 

Seddog  whom  to  waken  and  what  ew  filL 
Water,  sweetett  soother  to  kiss  a  wotrnd  aad  cool. 

Sweetest  and  divinest,  the  sky-bora  brook, 
Chackied,  with  a  whimper,  and  made  a  mirrar-pool 

Round  the  goest  we  wdcoRKd,  the  strange  hand  sbouk. 
God!    of  ^XNn  music 
Aad  song  and  blood  are  pun^ 
The  day  is  ncter  daikcs'd 
That  had  thee  here  obscure. 

IXaay  swarms  of  wild  bees  descentkd  on  oar  fields: 

Sutely  stood  the  wheatsialk  with  head  bent  highi 
Big  of  heart  we  Uioar'd  >t  storing  mighty  yieUs, 

Wool  and  com,  and  clusters  lo  make  men  cry  ! 
Hand-like  msh'd  the  rmtage;    we  strung  the  bellied  skins 

Plnmp,  and  at  the  sealing  the  Yoioh's  roice  rose: 
Maidens  dang  in  circle,  on  linle  fists  their  chins; 

GoNle  beasties  throng  posh'd  a  cold  loog  nose. 
Hh,  m 


Hdpk 

Safe  the 
WlarTi 

Hnng  tbi 
Reddei 


Tales  we 

Rocks 
Tales  of! 

Ease  b> 
Pleasant  r 

Sure  as 
He  that  i 

Danced 


Lo,  tbe  h 

Shtees  i 

Ere  the  st 


GEORGE  MEREDITH 

tiirccch'd  about  lus  ftet,  labour  done,  \wa«  as  you  Kc 

Red  pomccncutM  tuinUe  and  bunt  hard  nnd. 
So  brgaa  coountion  to  gire  ddigtu  xad  be 
Excclkiu  m  thingt  iiim'd  to  tMlte  life  kind. 
Cod  I   of  whom  music 
And  song  and  blood  are  putCi 
TIk  dajr  is  ncrtr  ditken'd 
That  had  tlxe  hen  obocum 

You  with  «belly  boms,  raois  I   and,  promontory  goats, 

You  wboM  broming  beard*  dip  in  coldest  d«w  I 
Bulls,  Uui  walk  the  pHCurci  in  kingly'flaskipg  cousl 

LaurrI,  trf,  Tine,  wreathed  for  ficuts  not  few  t 
You  ilut  build  (be  ahade-roof,  and  you  that  court  the  raya, 

Yuo  iti3i  leap  besprinkling  the  rock  Mnafli-reni: 
He  has  been  our  fellow,  the  morning  of  our  days  t 
Ui  he  choie  for  hotumnates,  and  this  way  weaL 
God  I   of  whom  rminc 
Aad  song  and  blood  are  pure. 
The  day  is  nerer  dxtken'd 
T^  bad  thee  bcrc  obscure. 


774-  7*rd)'  Sj>rmg 

'^OW  the  North  wind  ceawf, 
*^      The  warm  Somh-wcsl  awakes; 
S»-ifl  fly  the  ilecces, 
Thick  the  hlosMro-flalces. 

Now  hill  to  hill  has  nude  the  stridr, 
And  diiuaoF  wa*es  the  withoui-endi 
Kow  in  tbe  brant  a  door  flings  wide; 
Our  fanhnt  miles,  our  next  is  (Hcnd. 


GEORGE  MEREDITH 

And  King  of  Engtutd's  nab  of  llawen 
Is  thit  full  btrcu  with  mellow  atopi, 
That  ipau  the  lark  for  shior,  Tor  showm 
He  drinlu  his  hurmd  Ittjtht,  and  dropi. 
The  lur  in  mmiory  !ieon  thac  tfaingi, 
Which  out  of  iiKiinen'd  turf  aod  cbjr, 
Aitnia  (or  light  pstb  fMtkm  ringi, 
Of  Inp  10  Gfld  the  viurway, 
Tis  tx|U4l  to  a  «'ooda  dooe, 
Whainn  noifile  limt  renew 
Their  uictu  beneath  the  bther  sm, 
A»  though  they  cwght  a  broken  duel 
So  bird  was  earth  an  cyewinlc  back; 
Ituc  now  the  oomnoo  life  has  coroe, 
The  btoiting  cloud  a  dappled  pack, 
7*he  gru»r«  one  nst  tutdertian- 
A  City  clothed  in  snow  and  soot, 
With  bxKpi  for  daf  in  ghoMly  rows, 
Dre^s  to  ibc  scene  of  boots  afoot, 
The  river  that  rellectire  Bows: 
Arid  there  did  fog  down  crypts  of 
Play  spectre  upon  eye  aod  mouth:— 
Tlietr  faces  are  a  gtats  to  greet 
This  magic  of  the  vhirl  for  South. 
A  burly  joy  each  creature  swcUs 
Will)  souftd  of  its  own  buogtr;  queS; 
Earth  bas  to  till  her  empty  nxUs, 
And  speed  tbe  service  of  the  nest; 
The  phantom  of  the  snuw^wreatfa  mdl, 
That  haunts  the  farmer's  look  abroad, 
Who  sees  what  tomb  a  white  night  bwU, 
Where  flocks  dow  bleat  aod  sprouu  the 
For  iron  Wiimr  held  her  fimt 


GEORGE  MERI-DITH 

Across  her  sky  be  laid  his  hand; 
And  bird  he  surved,  be  uiflira'd  worm; 
A  lifbtlrss  hnven,  ■  iharrn  bod. 
Her  ihiTCTiag  Spring  ffignM  Tast  Hlrqs 
Tbe  biurn  bud«  dared  not  unfold : 

I  We  need  on  roadft  and  ice  to  keep 
'Ilioaght  of  the  girl  we  lo*c  from  cold. 


But  DOW  ths  Nwtb  wiad  ceaKS, 
Tbe  warm  Sovili-west  awakes, 
The  heateai  are  out  in  Ikttn, 
And  eanh's  green  banner  ahakn. 


Love's  Grave 


,"\jl  ARK  wbrre  the  pmsiog  wind  sivoots  jarclin-likr, 
"^'^     la  ikcletoa  shadow  on  the  beood-back'd  wave'. 
Here  ii  a  ittin|  apot  to  dig  Loiv'b  grave ; 
Hrre  where  the  poodcTMii  Ireakers  plunge  aad  stiikr, 
And  dan  tlieii  hiuing  toognes  high  up  the  landi 
In  bearing  of  the  ocean,  and  in  xight 
or  thow  ribb'd  wind-<ti«aks  runttir.g  into  white. 
If  I  the  death  of  Lote  had  dcqily  plann'd, 
I  ncicr  could  hiie  made  it  half  so  Mire, 
As  by  the  imbleu  kiuea  whkh  ii|braid 
Tbe  AiU-waked  sense  i   or  failing  that,  degrade  I 
Ti*  mannnj:   btit  no  laoraiag  can  reuotr 
^Vhat  we  have  forfettcd.     I  see  no  sin  i 
The  wrong  rt  mix'd.     In  tiagic  life,  God  wc«, 
No  villain  rwcd  be  I     Passions  spin  liie  plot: 

Cy'd  bv  wbn  is  falw  within. 


GEORGE  MEREDITH 

776.  Lucifer  ih  Starlight 

/^N  a  starred  night  Prince  Ludter  uproie. 

^— '      Tired   of  his  dark  donuniOD  swung  liu;  fioJ 

Above  the  rolling  tall  ia  cloud  part  scrtxn'd. 
Where  sinners  hugg'd  their  spectre  of  rejiose- 
Poor  prey  to  his  hot  fit  of  pride  were  thoK. 

And  now   upon  his  western   wing   he  Ican'ti, 

Now  his  huge  bulk  o'er  Afric's  sands  cartco'd, 
Now  the  black  planet  shadow'd  Arctic  snows. 
Soaring  through  wider  zones  that  piick.'d  his  scan 

With  memory  of  the  old  revolt  from  Awe, 
He  reach'd  u  middle  height,   and  at   the  stars, 
Which  are  the  brain  of  heaven,   be  look'd,   and  sank. 
Around  the  ancient  track  march'd,  rank  on  izak, 

The  army  of  unalterable  law. 


ALEXANDER  SMITH 


ALEXANDER  SMITH 

All  things  hare  something  more  than  barren  use; 

There  b  a  scent  upon  the  brier, 
A  tremuloos  splendour  in  the  autumn  dews, 

Cold  morns  are  fringed  with  fire. 

The  clodded  earth  goes  up  in  sweet-breath'd  flowen; 

In  music  dies  poor  human  speech, 
And  into  beauty  blow  those  hearts  of  ours 

When  Love  is  born  in  each. 

Daisies  are  white  upon  the  churchyard  sod, 
Sweet  tears  the  clouds  lean  down  and  giTC. 

The  world  is  very  lovely.     O  my  God, 
I  thank  Thee  that  I  life  I 


77&.  Barbara 

ON  the  Sabbath-day, 
Through  the  churchyard  old  and  gray, 
wr  the  crisp  and  yellow  leaves  I  held  my  rusding  wajr; 
od  amid  the  words  of  mercy,  falling  on  my  soul  like  balms, 
Eid  the  gorgeous  storms  of  music — in  the  mellow  organ- 
calms, 
[id  the  upward- streanung  prayers,  aod  the  rich  and  solemn 
psalms, 

I  stood  careless,  Barbara. 

My  heart  was  otherwhere. 
While  the  organ  shook  the  air, 
nd  the  priest,  with  outspread  hands,  bless'd  the  people 

with  a  prayer; 
It  when  rising   to   go  homeward,  with  >  ituld  and  saint- 
like shioe 


ALEXANDER  SMITH 


Gleun'd   a  face  of  ur?  beauty  with  tts 

mine — 
Gicam'd  and  vanlsh'd  in  »  moment — O  duti 

thine 

Out  of  heaven,   Buhara  [ 


O  pallid,  pallid  face  1 

O  earnest  eyes  of  grace  I 
When  last  I  saw  thee,  dearest,  it  was  in  am 
You  came  running  forth  to  meet  me  with  m 
your  wrist :  J 

The  flutter  of  a  long  white  dress,  then  all  wasi 
A  purple  slain  of  agony  was  on  tht  mouth  ] 

That  wild  morning,  Barbara. 


I  search'd,   in  my  despair, 
Sunny  noon   and  midnight  air  j 

I   could  not  drive  away  the  thought  tliat   yd 
there. 

O  manv  and  manv  a  winter  nieht  I  sat  wbeti  i 


J 


ALEXANDER  SMITH 

In  the  yean  I'tc  ciuinj;nt  i 
Wild  and  far  my  heart  hu  rxnffiL, 
And  naaj  lifi*  and  crrora  now  lure  been  on  me  aiengeij; 
BmI  to  you   I  hflTc  bcm  faithful  whalxocier  good   I   hck'd : 
r  t  lend  )KM,  and  above  my  life  nill  hangs  that  Ion  laaxt— 
I  Your  love  tbe  tronblins  rainbow,  I  ihi  i«cUcM  cauraci. 
Still  I  loTc  you,  Barban. 

Yn,  hott,  I  am  unblm ; 
With  niaay  doubit  oppicsc, 
.  I  wiodct  Ifte  the  di-&eit  wind  without  a  fUet  of  mt. 
Codtt  I  but  win  you  foe  an  hour  from  oft  that  vtarry  sboce. 
The  hnttga  of  my  muI  were  sitli'di    for  Death  hath  wld 

you  more 
Thin  the  mcbDcboly  woild  dotb  know — things  deeper  than 
all  Ion 
Yod  codd  cndi  me,  BiutanL 

In  rain,  in  vain,  m  vain! 
Vou  »in  nfver  come  ngtin. 
Th*rr  dfOo|M  tipon  ibe  dtwry  hills  a  mouniFtil  frinp  of 

rain: 
Tbe  sioamiog  closes  slowly  roond,  knid  winds  are  in  the 

tree, 
Round  ad&ih  thorea  for  ever  mmns  th«  hurt  and  wounded 

sea: 
There  is  no  rest  wpoo  the  wrtli,  peace  b  with  Death  aed 
thee — 
Batbnl 


Mf 


T 

T* 

Th 

] 

Th 

I 

« 

Te 

I 

Ev. 

» 

Th 

Th 

r 


h 

t 

Me 


CHRISTINA  GEORGINA  ROSSETTi 

Now  then  tn  poppin  b  ber  locks, 
Whhe  [toppies  khe  muu  wuri 

,  Muvt  wear  a  red  to  shrosd  her  fxcc 
And  ibc  want  gratxn  tbcrc: 

[Oi  is  the  Irangcr  fed  x  length. 
Cast  otr  the  aiti 

We  never  mw  het  with  a  smile 

Or  with  a  firown ; 
Her  bed  Kcm'd  ocTcr  soft  to  her, 

Tliough  tojs'd  of  dowsi 
She  lillJe  benlcd  what  sJic  wore, 

Kiltie,  o(  wreath,  or  jtown  i 
We  think  bcT  while  brows  ohea  acbed 

BescMh  her  crown, 
Till  siliery  hain  show'd  tti  her  iocks 

That  uted  to  be  to  browrn. 

We  itevcr  heard  her  sjieak  in  bauei 

Her  tone*  were  sweet, 
And  iDodulaied  ju«  m  much 

As  it  WM  BMct; 
Her  heart  u(  sitnt  ihioogh  the  mom 

And  coocourw  of  the  siieet. 
There  was  no  hurry  in  her  lusds, 

No  huny  in  het  ^: 
Tbrre  was  no  bliu  drew  nigh  to  ber, 

Th«i  *he  tnigbt  ran  to  greet. 

You  should  have  wept  her  yesterday, 

Waaing  upon  ber  bed : 
'fiat  wbercfore  should  jiou  weep  to-day 
That  she  is  titadi 


BT 

Iff 

1^^^^^^^ 

UpTH 

^^^^^^^H 
^^^^^H 

1 

1  III 

V 

[ 

11 

ill 

If 
i 

1                                             7S]. 

1 

CHRISTINA  CEORGINA  ROSSETTI 

Be  the  gftro  gnu  thvn  otc 
Vfilh  tttavtn  lad  dewdropi  wct( 

Awl  if  thou  wih,  reroember, 
And  if  (Jkw  wik,  forgK. 

I  sbdil  aot  Mc  Uie  shadowat 

I  shall  DM  fetl  the  ran; 
I  iliall  not  bear  tbe  nightin^e 

Sing  on,  u  if  b  pus; 
And  d/eaning  through  thr  twilight 

That  doth  not  nue  nor  set, 
Hifj;  I  larf  femember, 

And  h«p)y  niajr  (brget. 


TvBKf 

T  TOOK  my  hurt  i&  my  hand 
*     (O  (uy  low,  O  my  loire), 
I  said:    Let  me  M  or  stand. 

Let  me  Iitc  oh  die, 
But  this  once  heai  me  ipeak 

(O  my  love,  O  my  lovc>— 
Yet  a  woman's  words  arc  wnkt 

Yoa  should  speak,  not  I. 

Yoa  took  my  heart  in  your  hand 

With  a  friendly  smile. 
With  t  critical  eye  you  scann'd, 

Then  set  it  down, 
Aad  said,  'It  it  still  unripe, 

Better  wait  awhile; 
Wait  while  tbe  skylarks  pipe. 

Till  the  com  grows  brown.' 


9*0 


CHRISTINA  GEORGINA  RC 


*»1 


9S' 


As  yoa  set  h  down  it  broke 
Broke,  but  I  did  not  wina 

I  smiled  at  the  speech  you  sj 
At  your  judgement  I   hem 

But  I  bare  not  often  smiled 
Since  then,  nor  question'd 

Nor  cared  for  cornflowers  wi] 
Nor  sung  with   the  singing 

I  take  my  heart  in  my  hand, 
O   my  God,   O  my  God, 

My  broken  heart  in  my  hand 
Thou  hast  seen,  judge  Thi 

My  hope  was  written  on  san( 

0  my  God,  O  my  God: 
Now  let  thy  judgement  stand 

Yea,  judge  rae  now. 

This  contcmn'd  of  a  man. 

This  niarr'd  one  heedless  d 
This  hc.irt  Like  thou   to   scan 

Both   within  ^ind   without : 
Refine   with   Cue  its  gold. 

Purge  Tliou  its  itross  awaj 
Ym,   hold   it  in  Thy  hold. 

Whence  none  can  [iluck   it 

I  take   my   heart  in   my  hand- 

1  -iluil!  not  die,  but  live — 
Before  Thy   face  I   sund  ; 

I,    for  Thou   cdlest   such; 
All   that   I   hai-e   I   bring. 

All   that   I   am   1   give. 
Smile   Thou  and   I   shall  sing. 

But  shall   not  ijuestion  muc 


[RISTINA  CtiORGINA  ROSSETTI 


783.  Uphill 

r\OES  ihe  rosd  wind  upluU  aQ  ihe  vwfi 
^      Y«,  to  tbe  very  nxl. 
Will  the  Axf'%  jouTTKy  uk«  the  whole  long  Aa.j^ 
From  morn  10  n^ht,  my  ftknd. 

But  a  tbnv  for  the  sight  a  mtiD]t-|ilace  ? 

A  roof  for  when  the  slow,  dark  houni  begin. 
Majr  noc  tbe  darknns  hide  it  from  my  hiaei 

Yon  caonot  mus  that  ton. 


I 


Sh^  I  Bwet  other  way^iren  al  night? 

Those  who  bate  gone  before. 
Tbn  mint  t  knock,  or  call  wben  jott  in  aigbt  I 

Tbey  will  not  keep  jrou  waiting  at  that  door. 

Shall  I  find  comrorr,  iraTd>Mre  and  weak? 

or  bbovr  fOu  shall  fiod  the  sum. 
Will  tboe  be  bed*  for  me  and  all  wbo  atek? 

Tea,  beds  for  all  who  come. 


Passing  ylwaf 

ASSING  away,  saitli  tbe  World,  [tusioj  away: 
Chances,  beauty  aod  yooih  lapp'd  day  by  day: 
ly  lifc  ncrer  conttnnetli  tn  one  Way. 
the  eye  waxen  dim,  »  tbe  dark  h^r  changing  to  gray 
It  bKh  won  achbrr  laurel  nor  bay? 
dull  dodie  mysdr  in  Spring  and  bod  in  May: 
Thon,  root-acricken,  ahalt  ttot  reboild  thy  decay 
On  my  boiora  for  aye. 
Thai  t  answer'd:    Yea. 

19 


CHRISTINA  GEORGINA  ROSSITI 


PuHng  awajr,  laiih  my  Soul,  |aKHSg  nrtyi 
Vfhii  iu  burden  of  lev  aod  iutfe,  of  bboitr 
HearkcD  what  the  pxst  doth  witneo  and  tajr 
Rum  ia  thy  gold,  a  moth  n  ia  tliine  Mmj, 
A  canker  b  io  thy  bud,  thy  leaf  must  dtcay. 
At  midoijibt,  at  coclcctow,  at  tuoniUig,  one 
l.o,  the  Dndegroom  ihaU  come  and  iluU  iiot|| 
W«ch  thou  aod  |iny. 
Then  I  anawer'di   Yea. 

PassiDg  away,  stilh  my  God,  |>aning 
WJBier  posseth  after  tbt  long  delay : 
New  grapes  on  tbt  vise,  new  <i|;!>  oo  X 
Tuttle  calleth  tunle  ia  Heaien's  May. 
Though  I  tarry,  wait  lor  me,  trust  me,  watch 
Aiiae,  come  awayi   night  ia  put,  and  lo,  it 
My  lore,  tny  sister,  my  spouse,  tboa  riiak 
Then  I  answer'd:  Yd. 


7*;. 


Marvel  of  Marvels 


\h  ARVEL  of  marteb,  if  I  myself  sbaU 
^'^    With  mine  own  eyes  my  King  to  Hi>  cityl 
Where  the  least  of  lambs  b  ipotleat  white  ia 
Where  the  least  and  Ian  of  Hints  in  spotless  wl 
Where  the  diituncst  head  beyond  a  mooa  is 
O  s^int^,  my  belovid,  now  mouldering  to  tnould  ia 
Shall  1  sec  you  lift  your  heads,  see  your  cer 
See  with  these  very  eyes^    who  now  in  darli 
Tremble  for  the  midnight  cry,  the  rapture,  the  \ 
Tht  BriJigr^om  ttimeth,  nmHh,   Hit  £ridt  to 

Cold  it  is,  my  belotid,  since  your  fiiaeral  bell ' 
Cold  it  is,  O  my  Kin^  how  cold  alone  on 


CHRISTINA  CEORGINA  ROSSETTl 


rU.     fs  it  U^ell  wilh  the  CbiU? 

CAFE  where  I  c*ni>«  dw  jw, 
"^     Safe  where  I  hope  lo  lir  too, 
Safe  Aon)  ibe  Itime  inJ  tl>f  Tmi 
Yon,  and  you, 

Whom  1  r.tTCT  focgct. 
Skft-  from  the  froo  and  the  snow, 

Sifr  from  the  stonn  ud  th«  «un, 
Safe  where  the  Mtds  wak  to  grow 
One  by  one, 

And  to  come  tnck  in  blow. 


f»7. 


Remember 


D  EMEMBER  mc  whm  I  am  gone  awt]r> 
^^     Gooc  fu  awa]F  io^  t^  Mlmt  bad; 

Wlieo  you  can  no  more  hold  me  by  tbe  band, 
Nor  I  half  nam  to  go,  yet  niraing  suy. 
Remmibet  me  when  no  mote  day  by  day 

Yo«  tell  tnc  of  our  future  tim  you  [ttaon'd : 

Only  rasKmbei  me;  you  tmdentand 
It  wiQ  be  late  to  couoid  then  or  pray. 
Yet  if  you  vbouM  fofgct  me  foe  a  while 

Aod  aiWwards  renxmber,  do  not  griere; 

For  if  th«  darkoeu  aod  comption  kaiv 

A  reMife  of  the  ibooghts  that  otKe  I  had, 
Better  by  lar  yon  &bouUl  forget  aod  »niile 

Than  that  you  should  remcmbcT  and  be  tad. 


CHRISTINA  CEORGINA  ROSJ 


78S.  Aloof 

"T^HE  iirctpodKitc  tilence  of  the  Unil, 
^       Tbe  iimponsivc  (ouniliag  of  Utr  tea, 

S[itali  both  oM  mcsugr  of  one  vna*  to  Rir;| 
Aloof,  aloof,  w«  vaieA  atoof,  m>  vaaA 
Thou  too  aloof,  InmiuI  with  the  flawlcM  btid 

or  inner  solitude  |    we  ImmI  mk  lhc« ; 

But  who  from  diy  ftdf-chain  shall  cm  thee  h 
What  hrari  shall  touch  thy  hean  i  What  haad  lii; 
Aotl  I  am  soiRCtincs  proud  aod  socnctinxi  mcd 

And  UKneiimet  I  remember  days  of  old 
When  fillowsbip  seemM  not  m  far  to  seek. 

And  all  the  world  and  I  seem'il  much  Ins  o 

And  at  the  rainbow's  foot  by  niirly  goU, 
And  hope  f^  wrong,  and  life  tttcif  not 


?H. 


Rest 


/*\  EARTH,  tic  bcarily  upon  her  ejvs 
^^     Seal  h«  sweet  eyes  weary  of  wa: 

Lie  close  aiDund  lier;    leave  no  room  for 
Whh  tt3  haisli  laughter,  oor  for  aouod  of  sj^ 
She  hath  do  ^ctioiB,  die  hath  no  rrplin, 

Hu»h'd  is  and  cmcun'd  with  a  blessjd  dnni 

Ol'  all  that  irk'd  her  from  the  ho«r  of  birtfai 
Wtih  siiUnesa  that  is  almoU  Paradtw. 
Darkness  more  clear  than  noowLay  boldcUi  fair, 

Silence  more  imiMcal  than  «ny  soog; 
Etcn  lier  Tery  heart  has  ccawd  to  siir: 
Until  the  rooming  of  Elc/mty 
Her  rot  ihall  not  begm  nor  end,  but  bet 

And  when  the  wakes  she  mil  not  thtnit 


rpo. 


THOMAS   EDWARD   BROWN 
ZJew 


QHE  knrlt  upon  her  bnxhn'ft  grave, 
"^  My  liitk  jiri  of  wx  ytam  old— 
He  UKd  to  be  »o  good  and  bnn, 

Tbe  iwccmc  Umb  of  all  our  f<M ; 
He  uMd  to  iihout,  br  lurd  lo  siag. 
Of  ill  our  tribe  the  little  kioi- — 
And  M  unto  tbe  turf  her  ear  sbc  Iwd, 
To  h»k  if  Mi!)  b  that  diik  ]il>ce  be  piby'd. 

No  sound !    IM  MHind ! 

Dtaifa'i  silence  wta  ftotouoAi 

And  honor  crept 

Imo  her  acliiag  hmt,  aod  Dora  wcpc 

If  thii  is  as  it  ou{;bt  to  br, 

M]r  God,  I  lc4rc  it  unto  Tfacc. 


•^••v; 


7$  '•  y^f^'^ 

"^^HEN  Jessie  comes  with  hei  toh  breast, 

^^       And  yielda  the  golden  kejn, 
Then  b  h  a*  if  God  coreu'd 

Twin  b^i  upon   Hii  knees — 
Twin  babe«  thai,  each  to  other  pre«'d, 
■last  fed  the  Fathcr'a  ann»,  wbercwiih  tlii-^f  both  arc  bleu'iL 

But  when  I  think  if  we  mutt  put. 

And  all  thit  penonil  dreani  be  fled — 
O  then  my  heart !    O  then  my  u*elcu  heart  t 

Wouid  Cod  that  thou  wert  dead— 
A  clod  inseiHSile  to  joy«  and  tlb — 
A  stone  teinotc  in  some  bleak  fully  of  tbe  hiU* ! 


THOMAS  EDWARD  BROl 


Salve! 


792. 

'  I  "0  live  within  a  cave — it  is  moat  good 
'      But,  if  God  make  a  day,  i 

And  some  one  come,  and  say, 
'Lo!    I   have  gather'd  faggots  in  the  woodf 

E'en  let  him  stay, 
And  light  a  (ire,  and  fan  a  temporal  mood! 

So  sit  till  morning !    when  the  light  is  grown 
That  he  the  path  can  read, 
Then  bid  the  man  God-speed  i 
His  morning  is  not  ihtne ;    yet  must  thou  ow* 
They  have  a  cheerful  waimth — those  uhes  oa 


79i- 


My  Garden 


A  GARDEN  is  a  loresome  thing,  God  woi 
■^  '     Rose  plot, 

Fringod  pool, 
Fcrn'd   grot— 

The  veriest  school 

Of  peace;    and   yet  the  fool 
Contends  thnt  Cod   is  not — 
Not   God  !     in   g.irdc'ns  !    when   the   eve  is  cool 

N.iy,   but   I  have  a   sign ; 

'Tis  very  sure  God  walks  in  mine. 


J 


W6 


lEDWARD  ROBi-RT  BULWtR  LYTTON, 
EARL  OF  LYTTON 

794-  A  Night  in  Ttafy 

CWEEtT  «fc  ihc  rosy  mi-iODrics  of  liie  &p9 

"^     That  lint  liiss*d  ours  alhcit  tbry  km  no  more : 

BwcM  i>  the  Hght  of  tunxt-Hilbg  ship*. 
Altbo'  tlicy  Irave  us  ob  a  lonely  shorn 

8«Mt  are  familiar  songs,  tho'  MuMC  difs 
Her  hoUow  ihcU  in  Thought's  ferioront  wcUs: 
And  sweet,  iho'  sad,  the  sound  of  midnight  Mia 

When  th«  oped  casemeDi  with  the  night-rain  dn[». 

rbeic  is  s  plraMtre  which  b  bom  of  pain ; 

*[%«  grai*  of  all  thiogs  hath  its  vi<JeL 
Vote  why,  thro'  days  which  crrer  come  again, 

Rjoams  Hope  with  that  sinnge  longing,  like    Regret : 
Vliy  pK  the  posy  in  the  cold  dead  hand  \ 

Why  plant  the  rose  abore  the  lonely  griTC? 

Why  bring  the  corpnc  acran  the  nit  sM-wait  \ 
KVhj  deem  the  dead  nvoce  near  in  natiTc  land? 

Vhy  name  haih  been  a  nikncc  in  my  life 

I    So  long,  it  fatlcrv  upon  Unguage  now, 

)  more  to  nac  ihan  sisier  of  ihaa  wife 

OiK«  ■  .  .  and  now— nMking !     It  is  haid  to  know 
Dut  such  tlungs  have  boot,  and  aie  not ;    aad  yet 
Life  loiters,  keeps  a  p«lse  si  nvn  nicaMirv, 
And  goes  opon  its  biuiness  and  its  pkniMirc, 
ksd  knows  ooc  all  the  depths  of  its  regret.  >  .  . 


EARL  OF  LVTTOfJ 


Ah,  could  the  memory  asi  her  spots,  as 
The  snake's  braod  theire  in  spring !    ax 

^\^holly  rcnew'd,  lo  dwell  i'  die  time  thai 
With  no  raiieranee  of  those  pngs  of  ) 

Peace,  peace !  My  wild  song  will  go  wu 
Too  wanioniy,  down  p^ths  a  primic  pi 
Hath  trodden  bare.     What  was  it  jarr'i 

Some  crush 'd  illusion,  left  with  ciumplcd 

Tangled  in  Music's  web  of  twiotd  siring! 

That  started  that  false  noie^  and  crack' 
In  its  beginning.      Ah.   forgotten  things 

Stumble  back  strangely  !  and  the  ghost 
Stands  by  Deccmi>er's  fire,   cold,   cold  I    a 

The  last  spark  ouc — How  could  I  siii 

With  those  old  airs  haunting  me  all  tb 
And  those  old  steps  that  sound  when   dt] 

For  back  she  comes,  tad  mores  reproacbl 

The  mistress  of  my  moods,   and  looks 

(Cruel  to  the  last!)   as  tho'   'twere  I,  ool 


EARL  OF  LYTTON 

One  draught  of  whu  1  thaU  mil  not  igaia 

Sate  wbcn  my  bnin  with  thy  dark  wine  is  brimm'i),— 

Om  draught  I    kod  tlvn  uraigbi  onward,  spile  of  pain, 
And  sfnte  of  all  ihin^i  clvwjted,  with  gaze  undimm'd, 

Low'a  fnotMcpt  tliro'  the  waning  Past  to  cxpk)cc 
Undaunted ;    and  to  caivc  in  the  wan  liglK 
Of  Hope's  lut  ooqKWta,  on  Son;;'*  utmost  hrisbt, 

The  ud  meiablMKc  of  an  hour  or  niott. 

Cdnigbt,  and  lore,  and  youth,  and  Italy  I 
I.oTe  in  the  Und  where  love  mtnt  lotely  Mvm*  I 
ind  of  my  love,  tbo'  I  he  (ar  from  thee, 
l-end,  for  love's  wke,  the  light  of  thy  itMonbeans, 

The  spirit  of  thy  cypress-grove*  and  all 
Thy  daik-eyed  beauty  (at  a  little  while 
To  my  desire.     Yet  once  more  let  her  smile 

'all  o'ei  me :    o'er  me  let  ha  long  hair  f.ill.  .  .  . 

Jnder  tKe  UessM  darkons  uareproted 

We  were  alone,  in  thai  beM  hour  of  time 
PtTbich  (int  reveal'd  to  us  bow  much  we  loved, 

'Neath  the  thick  uarlight.     The  young  night  sublime 
■lung  IreniMii^  o'er  us.      At  htt  fret    1    kivrlt, 

Aod  gaied  up  from  her  feet  ioio  her  tjf%. 

Her  face  wu  bow'd :    we  breathed  each  other's  sighs : 
Wk  did  oo<  speak:   not  move:   we  took'd:    we  fdt. 

nie  night  nid  not  a  word.     The  breeze  was  dead. 

The  leaf  lay  vitboul  whispering  oil  the  nee, 
A*  I  lay  at  her  feet.     Droop'd  was  her  head: 

One  hand  in  mine :   and  one  still  pensively 
Vent  wandering  through  my  hair.     We  were  togetlter. 

How  i   Where  1    VHm  matter !   Somewhere  in  a  dream. 

Drifting,  slow  drifting  down  a  wiunl  stream : 
KTliitbet?   Together  I    tben  whii  matter  whither  f 


EARL  OF  Lvrroi 


It  was  enough  for  me  to  clasp  hn  h«i 
To  blend  with  her  love-looks  my  own ! 

Enough  (with  thoughts  like  ships  that  can 
Blown  by  faint  winds  about  a  magic  sh 

To  realize,  in  each  mystetious  feeling,  j 
The  droop  of  the  warm  cheek  so  dcM 
The  cool  white  nnn  about  my  shoulder 

Those  exquisite  fair  feet  where  I  was 


% 


Ho*  little  know  they  life's  dJvinesC  bliss. 
That  know  not  to  possess  and  yet  rcfr; 

Let  the  young  Psyche  roam,  a  Beciinj  ku 
Grasp  it — a  few  poor  grains  of  dusi  ra 

See  how  those  floating  flowers,  ifae  butieri 
Hover  the  garden  thro',  and  take  do  r< 
Desire  for  ever  hath  a   flying  foot : 

Free  pleasure  comes  and  goes  beneath  the 


EARL  OF  LYTTON 

H«9*<ti  pDts  an  >rro  oat.     Sh«  u  ufe.     The  sbote 
Gbia*  (oidc  new  roumain;   or  the  lilicd  Uwn 
A  rarer  ton  of  rose :   but  ah.  jioot  Faun ! 
To  ibee  ilie  sbill  be  ctumged  for  vnrmon. 


not  too  do«e  the  fadtng  rapture.     Lean 
To  Love  hit  toog  aurorss,  slowly  6eca. 

Be  ready  lo  rcbaM  ss  to  receive. 

Deem  ihoae  the  ncaiest,  soul  to  vnA,  betwera 

Wbooe  iJpB  yet  lingers  rtTereace  oo  ■  iigb. 

Judge  wbx  thy  mdk  can  reach  not,  laosi  ilnnc  vwo, 
If  oQce  thy  soul  bath  seiud  it.     The  unknown 

If  Bfc  to  lote,  religion,  poeuy. 


« 


The  moon  had  ict.    Then  w»  not  iny  light, 
S»e  of  ihe  Iciodjr  kgioa'd  viichfUrs  pale 

In  outer  air,  aod  what  by  fit*  nude  bright 
Hot  fAaaim  in  a  roty  nk 

SeaiA'd  by  the  Umping  ^y,  whoac  littk  aftA 
Went  m  and  out,  like  pauioo'ft  fatsUiil  hope. 
MeaawhBe  th«  ikepy  globe  began  to  slope 
peadctoM  ihouhfer  unwaid  thio'  the  darit. 


And  the  nigbt  pi*i'i  la  beauty  like  a  dieant. 

Aloof  in  tboae  dark  beavetu  pused  DeMinj, 
Wiih  her  last  star  detoendlng  b  the  ^eam 

Of  the  cold  morrow,  fron>  the  emptied  sky. 
The  hour,  the  diMUK«  from  ba  old  leit,  all 

The  lureliy  and  Imcneea  of  the  pboe 

Had  left  a  lovely  awe  oo  ibaa  fiir  £mc, 
And  all  the  bnd  gitw  strange  and  magical. 

li  ^ 


EARL  OF  LYTTOl 

As  droops  some  billowy  cloud  to  the  en 
Heavy  with  3II  heaven's  leais.   for  all 

She  droop'd  lutto  me,  without  force  or  1 
And  sank  upon  iny  bosom,  raurmuring 

A  woman's  inarticulate  passiooate  words. 
O  moment  of  all  momenis  upon  canh 
O  life's  supreme  !      How  worth,   how 

Whole  worlds  of  flame,  to  kuow  this  wi 


i 


What  even  Eternity  can  not  restore ! 

When  nil   the  ends  of  life  t>kc  hands 
Kound  centres  of  sweet  fire.      Ah,   npvn 

Ah  never,  shall   the  bitter  with  the  si 
Be  minglfd  so  m  the  jiale  after-yeais ! 

One  hour  of  life  immortal  sprits   ]<ossi 

This  drains  the  world,  and  leaves  but 
And  parching  passion,  and  peqilextng 

Sad  is  it,   that  we  cannot  even  k«ep 
That  hour  10  sweeten  htc's  last  Uott 


JAMES  THOMSON 


7prf. 


/«  the  Trmin 


I 
I 


AS  «c  ni»h,  u  we  nisb  in  tlie  Tiun, 
'  ^^     The  iren  aod  ihe  huuicK  go  wfai-eling  back, 
!  But  the  surry  lieatciu  abore  the  plain 
Come  Aying  <m  our  UkIi. 

AJI  tli«  braiHifuI  nan  of  the  sky, 

The  ulrer  dores  of  the  Ibreat  of  Nighi, 

Oi(T  the  dull  mih  swann  and  Ay, 
CompoiMoos  or  our  flight. 

We  will  rush  ever  on  without  fur ; 

Let  the  tool  be  f«r,  tlte  f1if;ht  be  Aeet  I 
For  we  c»rry  the  Hc3n»i  with  m,  dear. 

While  ibc  Earth  Jijts  JVom  our  f«l! 


7.  SuaJa/  up  the  River 

kjf  Y  love  o'er  the  wnccr  bends  <lieiaiins i 
It  f>lidei}i  and  gbdeth  Mrnvf. 
■  She  am  ibcrc  ber  owa  beauty,  gleamiag 
Through  shadow  aad  ti|i|>le  aod  apnj. 

lel)  her,  thou  imimuriDg  river, 
As  pan  bet  your  light  warcteu  loti, 
low   steadfast  thai  imajje  for  eivr 
Sfairtn  pure  in  poic  dqnhi  of  my  aool. 


t~^  IVE  ■  man  a  hone  he  can  tide, 
^-^     Give  a  man  a  boat  he  can  siiJ ; 
And  his  raok  and  wealth,  his  suength  jnd 
On  sea  nor  shore  rfiall  fail. 


fi 


Give  a  man  a  pipe  he  can  smoke, 
Give  a  man  a  book  he  can  read : 

And  hb  home  is  bright  with  a  calm  dtlighl 
Though  the  room  be  poor  iodced. 

Give  3  man  a  gill  he  cto  love,  ^| 

As  I,  O  my  love,  lo^e  thee ; 
And  his  heart  is  great  with  the  pulse  of  Fl 

At  home,  on  land,  on  sea. 


799- 


The  Fine 


'T'HE  wine  of  Love  is  music, 

*■        And  the   feast  of   Love   is   sorg  : 
And  when   Love  sits  down   to  the  bancjw 
Love  sits  long : 

Sits  long   and  arises  drunken, 

But  not  with   the   feast  and   the   v.  i\ie ; 
He  recleth  with  his  own   heart, 
That  great,   rich  Vine. 


Sh 


\ 


WILLIAM  MORRIS 

too.  &pttmer  7)aitm 

I^RAY  but  one  prayer  lar  nw  'twixt  tity  doie<!  Iifi», 
'        Tlunk  but  one  ihoujht  of  me  vp  Ja  the  Mm. 
The  fumincr  eight  wiMth,  the  morning  Bgbt  dips 

Fiiat  And  gray  'iwixt  the  learn  of  the  Hpeo,  beiwixi 
the  cloud-lurs. 
That  ire  p«tieatly  wdtiog  there  fat  the  dawn: 

FUfent  ■nd  colourten,  though  HeaTcn's  (old 

Kls  to  AoM  throogh  them  ^ong  with  the  tun. 
otrt  in  the  meadowt,  above  the  young  com, 
he  heary  ebns  wait,  aiul  rcsiJeM  and  cold 
The  uDniy  wind  riw«  i    the  mes  lie  dim  i 
Thioqgb  tiMi  loiiK  Iwilitbt  ihcf  pny  for  the  dan 
the  looe  house  in  the  midst  of  the  com. 
Speak  bet  one  word  to  mc  over  the  com, 
Otef  the  teedcr,  Itow'd  loclis  of  the  com. 


roj. 


Jjox/e  is  enough 


^OVE  n  eMugh;   though  the  World  be  B-wnnrng, 
And  the  woods  hx\t  no  Toice  but  th«  Toicc  of  com- 
plaining, 
hough  the  sky  be  too  dark  for  dim  eyes  to  discover 
The  gold-cvp*  and  d«nes  &ir  blooming  thereunder, 
flhough  the  hill*  be  held  shaduvn,  lod  the  sea  ■  dark  woder, 
^PAnd  this  day  dnw  a  nil  oicr  all  ikedi  pi»M  over, 
Tet  their  handx  «hail  not  trnnbir,  thrir  fert  ahall  not  fiher ; 
The  void  shall  doc  weary,  the  kxt  i^al)  ttoc  alter 

Tht^t  ltp«  and  tbeic  eye>  of  the  torcd  and  the  tovet. 


WILLIAM  MORRIS 


So2.     The  Nymph's  Smg  to  ffyiai 

T   KNOW  R  Utile  g>nlfQ^0M 
*     Set  thick  with  tily  uxl  red  rosr. 
Where  f  would  wiadet  if  I  migltt 
From  dewy  dawn  to  dewy  night. 
And  hvK  ooe  witl)  lae  wandering. 

And  ibo^gb  vilhin  it  no  birds  ting. 
And  though  no  jiillat'd  houK  U  then, 
And  though  the  apple  boujtiu  are  bat 
Of  frait  and  blosMcn,  woold  to  God, 
Her  leet  upoa  the  green  gran  itod. 
And  I  b^eld  them  as  before ! 

There  comes  a  nnirmiir  from  the  ibocp. 
And  in  the  pbce  two  fair  iireami  are, 
Draivn  from  the  piride  bills  aJar, 
Drawn  ilown  unto  the  tvnless  «ea: 
The  bilh  wboK  flowers  ne'er  led  the  bee. 
The  shore  no  ship  bis  ever  seen, 
Still  beaten  by  the  billows  green. 
Whose  mummr  oomcs  unccMitgly 
Unto  the  place  for  which  I  cry. 

For  which  I  cry  both  day  and  night, 
For  which  I  let  slip  alt  delight. 
That  maketh  me  both  deaf  and  blind. 
Careless  to  win,  unskill'd  to  find. 
And  quick  to  lose  what  all  men  seek. 

Yet  lottering  u  I  am,  nd  weak. 
Still  have  I  left  a  Uttle  breath 
To  sctk  within  the  jaws  of  death 


WILLIAM  MORRIS 

An  tamncc  to  tb»  htfpj  placv; 

Oaee  ttea,  once  kist'd,  otM.'^r  reft  fren  me 
Aiugh  tbe  iDunDunos  of  tlw  »e>. 


ODEN  BERKELEY  WRIOTHESLEY  NOEL 


TSe  tf^ater-Nym^  and  the  Bo/ 

T   FLUNG  me  reond  him, 
^     I  drew  him  under ; 
I  chingi  I  drown'd  btm. 
H7  own  white  wonder !  .  .  . 

Father  aad  mother, 
Weeping  and  wild, 
Cuw  to  the  foKM, 
Calliiv  tbe  cVM. 
Came  from  tbe  palace, 
Down  to  the  pool, 
Calling  my  dailin^ 
My  beautiiiil! 
UodcT  the  water, 
Cold  and  10  pale! 
Could  it  be  lore  made 
Beauty  10  fail? 

AJ)  HM  for  moRalsl 
In  a  few  mooni, 
If  I  bad  k'ft  him, 
After  M>me  Junes 


HON.  RODEN  NOEL 


111 


11 


He  would  have  bdtd. 

Faded  away. 

He,   the  young  foamrch,   whom 

AH  would  obey, 

Fairer  than  day  ; 

Alien  to  springtime, 

Joylef  I  and  gray, 

He  \  >ald  have  faded, 

Fadeu  away, 

Movii  J  a  mockeiy. 

Scorn  d  of  the  day ! 

Naw    [   have  taken  him 

AH   ia  his  prime. 

Saved   from  slow  poisoning 

Pi  tiles*  Time, 

Fill'd  with  his  happiness. 

One  with  the  prime, 

Saved   from  the  cruel 

Dishonour  of  Time. 

Luid  him,   my  beautiful, 

Laid  him  to  rest. 

Loving,  adorable. 

Softly  U)  rest, 

Here   in  my   crystalline. 

Here  in  my  breast ! 


804.  The  Old 

'T'HEY  ate  waiting  on  the  shore 

For  the  bark  to  take   them   home  1 
They  will  toil   and  grieve  no   more; 
The  hour  for  release  h^th   come. 

gee 


HON.  RODEN  NOEL 

All  tbrir  long  life  lie*  behind 
Like  ■  dimly  blending  dmm  i 

There  is  ooihtng  left  lo  bind 
To  the  rvalou  that  only  mtiu. 

Tbey  ue  vailini;  (<at  the  bo«i 
There  is  Dodiing  left  to  <Io! 

What  wu  near  them  grtiwt  rtmtnt, 
Hijipy  tileocc  fjJls  like  dew; 

Now  the  ihwJow^  blirk  is  come, 

And  the  weary  iruy  go  honte. 

By  mU  wuet  they  wodd  icat 
In  the  shadow  of  ttie  tree  I 

After  battle  tlcrp  U  bnt, 
Aiiei  noite,  tranquilLty. 


THOMAS  ASHE 

hf.    Mm  tf^e  no  Antels,  TansU? 

^  1*16-109 

/"^AME,  00  ■  SibbMh  nooo,  tny  sweet, 
^^     Id  white,  to  find  her  loier; 
The  fra&i  grew  f«oud  beoeath  her  leet, 
The  gften  elro-leates  >bore  bm-^ 
Meet  we  no  angcli,  Pansie? 

She  uid,  '  We  meet  oa  tngels  now '  [ 
And  toft  &gha  Knara'd  upoa  hnri 
And  with  white  hand  sbe  imich'd  a  bough) 
She  did  it  that  great  honour; — 
Whatl    nttct  BO  •ngds,  P<n»ef 

tij  tfl* 


THOMAS  ASHE 


\ 


O  sweei  brown  hat,  brown  hdr,  brown  eji 
Down-dropp'd  brown  eyes,  so  lender ! 

Then  what  said   I .'      GaiJaDC  rephes 
Seem  flattery,   and  offend  ber;  — 
But — meet  no  angels,  Fansic? 


Sotf. 


To  Two  Bereaved 


I 


VOU  must  be  sad  ;    for  though  it  is  to  Heai 
■^       'Tis  hard  to   yielii  a  little  girl  of  seven. 
Alas,  for  me  'tis  hard  my  grief  to  nile. 
Who  only  met  her  as  she  went  to  school  j   ^A 
Who  never  heard  t!ie  little  lips  so  sweet        ^^ 
Say  even   'Good  morning,'  though  our  eyes  woi 
As  whose  would  fain  be  friends !    How  must  f 
Sick  (or  your  loss,  when  eren  so  sod  am  I. 
Who  never  clasp'd   the   smiill   hands  any   day! 
Fdir  flowers  thrive  round  the  little  grave,   I  [ira; 


THEODORE  WATTS-UUNTON 

S07.    iV assail  Chorus  at  the  Merfnaid  '. 

/"^HRiSTMAS  knows  a  merry,    merrj- 
^--'      Where  lie   goes  witli   fondest   lace. 

Brightest  eye,   brightest  hrtir ; 
Tell  tlie  Mermaid   where  is  that  one  place. 
Where  > 


Riilfi^h, 


'Tis  by  Devon's  glorious  halls. 

Whence,   dear  Ber,   I   come   again : 

Bright  of  golden   roofs  and   walls — 
lil  Dorado's  rare  domain — 

9/0 


I  I 


r 


THEODORE  WATTS-DUNTON 

Seem  iJioK  haUi  when  *nnliglM  launchet 
Shilu  of  gold  thra'  leaScu  bniicho, 

■  Whne  tbr  winlei^«  fnthcry  mimk  bluKhM 
Firld  and  fann  and  line. 

KOmi.     ChnsUBis  kootn  a  tntrry,  mnry  j'bcc,  Ac 

(Til  where  Ayoo's  wood-sjmtes  »«j»e 
Through  the  boughs  a  Uct  of  rime. 
While  ilie  bdls  of  CbriMoias  Ere 
Fling  for  Will  the  Si»tlbtd-chime 
O'er  ibe  rirer-Aafi  embcoa'd 
Rkh  wkh  Downy  lunet  of  fron — 
O'er  the  hicmU  wbctc  snowy  lufu  an  lou'd — 
Siruia  of  olden  time. 

HOKin.     CItrinnus  knows  a  mcny,  meny  place,  Ac 

iaieifMn't  Fritmd. 

"Tis,  iDcthinks,  on  sny  ground 
W  Where  o«r  Shakespeare's  frrt  m  ml 

B      There  Rnilcs  ChristniM,  holly-crowo'd 
~  Wiih  his  blithest  coronet; 

Friendship's  Tace  he  k»eth  well: 
"Tis  a  countenance  wlioie  spell 
Sheds  a  bilni  o'er  ereiy  mead  and  deD 
Where  we  lacd  to  lirtt. 

FUS.     CliriMmM  knows  a  mcrty,  iserry  place,  &c 
More  ibaa  all  the  pictures,  Ben, 

Winter  weares  l^  wood  or  stream, 
Cbrbuais  loves  our  Lomdoo,  when 
Rise  (hy  clouds  of  wusil-stcuB— 


THEODORE  WATTS-DUNI 

Clouds  like  these,  ihu,  nrling,  d^ 
Forms  of  faces  gone,  and  w»ke 
Many  a  lay  from  lips  vte  io»«d,  mi. 
Londos  like  a  dream. 
Chokus.     Chriaunu  knows  a  merry. 

Bai  Jenion. 

Love's  old  Mags  shall  nerer  die^ 

Yet  the  new  shall  sutTer  proofij 
Love's  old  drink  of  Yule  brew   I 
Wassail  for  new  love's  behoof. 
Drink  the  drink  I  brew,  and  singj 
Till  the  berried  branches  swing. 
Till  our  song  make  all  the  Men 
Yea,  from  rush  lo  roof. 

FlKAL«, 

Christmas  loves  this  meny,  merry  ^ 

Christmas  saith   with   fondest  fate 
Brightest  eye,   brightest  hair : 
'Ben.   the  drink  tastes  laic  of  Bck  at 


d  sing 
-iog,   J 
ermaiifl 

n 


ALGERNON  CHARLES  SWINBURNE 


Come  wiib  bows  bcm  ukI  wiib  cntptjing  of  qaiTCn, 

Maiden  roost  perfect,  lady  of  light, 
_Wnh  ■  noise  of  wind*  ind  many  rinrs, 

Willi  a  clanour  of  waters,  tad  with  niighi ; 
lind  on  thy  undali,  O  thou  mou  Sen, 
)vcr  tJie  s|>l(ndoBr  tad  tpced  of  thy  feet ) 
^or  (be  Tmiu  eut  ({tjlckeni,  the  wan  weft  sbiven. 
Round  the  feet  oif  the  d*y  jM  the  feet  of  ilte  night. 

xlull  wc  find  her,  how  shall  we  liog  to  ber, 
Fold  out  luadt  round  her  koea,  and  cling  f 
ibu  Bun't  heart  were  as  Hre  aad  could  sfring  ui  lier. 
Fire,  ot  t)ie  strength  of  the  screams  llu«  tfi^iog ! 
For  the  iiMtt  and  the  winds  «r«  unto  htr 
At  raiment,  as  so^gs  of  tlie  hsip-pUyer; 

I  or  th«  risen  stus  aod  the  fallen  cling  to  her. 
And  the  southwest- wind  and  tlie  west-wind  sing. 
or  winter's  nios  and  ruins  arc  orrr. 
And  sll  the  season  of  soon-s  and  sinsj 
The  diys  dJiiding  lover  and  lover. 

The  light  tltat  loses,  the  night  that  wins  i 
And  liiiw  mMtnber'd  is  grief  forgotten, 
Aod  froan  are  sbin  and  flowers  brgoctm. 
And  in  green  underwood  and  corer 
Blossom  by  blossom  the  sitring  begins. 

The  full  slreams  feed  on  Bower  of  rushes. 

Ripe  grasses  trammel  a  tnrelling  foot. 
The  laini  fresh  flame  of  the  young  year  flushes 

From  leaf  lo  flower  and  flown-  to  fhiii  j 
And  frvit  and  leaf  >rv  as  gold  and  firci 
And  the  oat  is  bcacd  abore  the  lyre, 
the  hoofM  bcel  of  a  satyr  crushes 

The  chesuutf-faiok  at  tlie  chcMnut-root. 

m 


ALGERNON  CHARLES  SWINE 


And  Pan  by  noon  and  Bacchus  by  ni^ 

Fleewr  of  foot  ihan  ihe  fleet-foot  kk 

Follows  with  dancLQg  and  liils  with  del 

The  Mxnad  and  the  Bassarid ;        M 

And  soft  as  lips  that  laugh  and  hide  * 

The  laughing  leaves  of  the  uees  diridc, 

And  screea  from  seeing  and  leave  in  si 

The  god  pursuing,  the  matdeo  hid. 

The  ivy  falls  with  the   BicchanaJ's  hair 

Over  her  cytbrows  hiding  her  eyes  ; 
The  wild  vine  slipping  down  leaves  ban 
Her  bright  breast  shortening  into  wgl 
The  wild  vine  slips  with  the  weight  of 
But  the  berritiil  ivy  catches  and  dcavrs 
To  the  limbs  that  glitter,  the  feet  that 
The  wolf  that  follows,   the  fawn 


Sop. 


Herth* 


awn  thtt 

M 


ALGERNON  CHARLES  SWINBURNE 

First  life  oa  my  sources 

First  drifted  and  swam; 
Out  of  me  are  the  forces 
That  save  it  or  damn; 
It   of   me   man   aod    woman,    and   witd-beut   sod  biid: 
before  God  was,   I  am. 

Beside  or  aboie  me 

Naught  b  there  to  got 
Lore  or  nnlove  me, 
UnlcDow  me  or  know, 
am   that  which  unloTes  me  and  kotreit    I   am  itncken, 
and  I  am  the  blov. 

I  the  mark  that  is  misi'd 

And  the  arrows  that  miss, 
I  the  mouth  that  is  kiss'd 
And  the  breath  in  the  kiss, 
K  search,  and  the  sought,  and  the  seder,  the  tuul  and 
the  body  that  is. 

I  am  that  thing  which  blesses 

My  spirit  elate; 
That  which  caiesses 
With  bands  uncreate 
J  Kmbs  unbegotten  that  measure  the  length  of  the  measure 
of  fate. 

But  what  thing  dost  thou  now. 

Looking  Godward,  to  cry, 
'I  am  I,  tboa  art  thou, 
I  am  low,  thoa  art  high '  I 
am  thou,  whom  thou  seekest  to  Gad  him  {   find  thou  but 
thyself,  thou  art  L 


ALGERNON  CHARLES  SWINBl 


I  the  gnin  ind  Uif  furrow, 

llie  |Jouf>h-cli>fC(i  clod 
And  ili(  ploughthwr  drawii 
The  gmn  uid  the  sod, 
The  drad  and  tbc  dotf,  Hue  seed  tod  the  »v| 
which  B  God. 

HaK  chou  known  how  I  fa: 

Child,  underground  I 
Ftic  Uiot  imjaMion'd  Uiee, 
Inm  UiM  boand, 
J>im  chanf-M  of  water,  what  thing  of  all 
kouwa  of  or  found ! 

Canst  ihou  uy  tn  thine  bean 

Thou  haM  wen  with  thinr  cy< 
With  what  cunning  of  art 

l^ou  wast  wtou^  in  what  wi 
hf  what  force  of  what  stiifT  thou  wast  *ha|«0| 
ou  Diy  i}rrjsc  to  the  tkics ! 

Who  hath  giTen,  iriio  bath  sold 

Koawledgc  of  me  { 
Has  the  wildemcu  told  n  theef 
Ha$i  tbou  IcarM  of  the  tea  J 
Ha*t  iliau  cotunntned  in  spirit  with  night  i   ka> 
tuken  coudmI  with  tbccf 

Hare  I  set  sacb  a  «tar  ^M 

To  show  light  oa  thy  brew 
That  thou  «awen  £ram  thi 
What  I  ihow  to  thee  now? 
Have   ye   spokeo   ts   bnUucn   together, 
mounuios  aad  tbou  i 


fGERNON  CHARLES  SWINBURNE 
Wh&i  is  hen,  (tost  ibou  know  h.t 
WhM  wu,  hast  tboa  kaownf 
Profhet  nor  poet 
Nor  (ripod  DOr  ibrene 
nor  flesh  can  nuke  antwet,  but  odjr  thy  nmtfart 
Mother,  ikx  tnaker, 
BoTflt  Ritd  n«  nudei 
Th«u{b  her  children  fomke  her, 
Allured  or  tifnid, 
lajioit  pniycn  to  ibe  God  of  thetr  fuhion,  die  stin  doc 
for  all  tbil  haie  pray'd. 

I  A  c/eed  tt  ft  rodi 

And  a  crown  is  of  nigbi  t 
But  this  thing  is  Cod. 
To  be  mm  wiU)  thy  might, 
'o  2>ow  straight  in  the  suength  of  thy  ijiirh,  and  1!(*  out 
Iby  life  as  the  li^ht. 

t]  am  w  thee  to  saw  thee. 
As  my  soul  in  thee  snith; 
Gire  thou  »  I  gaTc  t)iee, 
lliy  life-blood  and  bteatfa, 
RM  leatea  of  thy  labour,  white  flowers  of  thj  thought, 
and  red  fruit  of  thy  death. 


I 


OC    19 


Be  the  ways  of  thy  giving 

As  mine  were  to  thee; 

The  free  life  of  thy  ItTio^ 

Be  the  gift  of  it  free; 

semat  to  lord,  BOt  m  muter  to  sbte,  sbah  ihon 

give  tbee  to  me. 


ALGERNON  CHARLES  SWQlh 


im 


0  children  of  banisttmcnt, 
Souls  OTercast, 

Were  the  lights  ye  set  Tanisfa  IBM 
Alway  to  last, 
Vc  would  know  not  the  sun  overshining  the  t 
stars  overpast. 

1  that  saw  where  ye  trod        ^1 
The  dim  paths  of  the  night 

Set  the  shadow  call'd  God 
In   your  skies  to  give  light ; 
But  the  morning  of  manhood  is  risen,  and  tb( 
soul  is  in  sight. 


I 


The  tree  many'raoted 

That  swells  to  the  sky 
With  fiondage  red-fruited. 
The  life-tree  am   I  ; 
In   the   buds   of  your   lives    is   the    sap   of  mv 
i\\,i\\   live  and  not  die. 

But  the   Gods  of  your   fashion 

That  lake  and   that  give. 
In  their  pity  and   passion 
That  scourge  and   forgive, 
They  are  worms  that   are  bred   in   the   bark  thi 
they  shall  die  and  not   live. 

Mv  own  blood  is   what  stanches 

The  wounds  in   my  bark  ; 
Stars  caught  in  ray  branches 
Make  day  of  the  dark. 
And  are  worshipp'd  as  suns  till   the  sunrise   sha 
their  fires  as  a  sprk. 
9?8 


i, 


ALGERNON  CHARLES  SWINBURNE 

Whm  dnd  ago  hide  under 
The  lite  ruou  of  ihc  tree, 
In  my  dvluiFtt  ibe  (buadtr 
Mikes  uCtcnncc  of  me ; 
lo  due  dad)  of  my  bought  vhh  each  otbcr  yt  heir  the 
wave*  H>und  of  the  sn. 

That  (KHM  is  of  Time, 

A>  hi*  feathers  are  spreaj 
And  his  feet  k<  to  climb 
Tfarangh  the  bough*  ovcrheai], 
Aad  my  foliage  rings  round  hin  and  nutlet,  ud  fanacbcf 
atr  bent  with  bis  ircwL 


I 


The  stomfviods  of  age* 

Blow  throu}^  mc  and  ceaw. 
The  vrar-witnl  Uu*  r»ges 

The  nfni^wind  of  \)fXf. 
Ere  tbe   bieath  cif  tbem   toughen   oiy   trestn.  ere 
mjr  bloMoma  incrvat*. 


one  oT 


All  •owhI*  of  all  cluDgcs, 
All  sbKkmra  and  lights 
Oit  Uic  world'*  momuin-raagea 
And  ■tmnMiTOi  baglm, 
Whine  tooRoe  i*  the  wind's  longiR  aod  Unguagc  of  uona- 
cIoikIs  oa  earth-«hAkii)g  nigbist 

All  Fonns  of  all  laces. 

Ail  works  of  all  hands 
In  ■MtSfckable  placrs 
or  time-stricken  lands. 
(\ll   deatb  and  all   liic.  and  all  reigns  and   aU   rain,  drop 
through  me  as  uadi. 


L 


ALGERNON  CHARLES  SWINBUI 

Though  MTc  be  tn^  bwdeo 
And  more  than  jv  know, 
Aod  my  itrowth  hare  do 
But  only  to  ([row, 
Vn    I    fail   not  of  |;rainng   far   \ighuuogt 
drathwtnot  bcW. 

ThcM  too  halt  tbrir  put  in  r 

At  I  too  in  thew; 
Svch  fitv  it  ai  bran  m  me, 
Such  np  ia  this  trrc'«. 
Which  hath  \a  it  all  sounds  and  ail  secrets 
and  of  wjs. 

Id  the  tpnnj-colonr'd  bows 

When  my  mind  wm  u  Ma) 
Tlvrre  btake  forth  of  me  to% 
By  cemurie*  of  days, 
5^1/oaE  UlMsomf  with  perfume  of  manhood, 
my  spirit  4ls  rays. 

And  the  sound  of  ihem  springinf 

And  mdl  of  ilietr  shoots 
Were  as  warmth  and  swvet  sioging 
And  ttrrngth  lo  mr  toots ; 
And  the  Itro  of  my  diildrea  nuide  perfect 
of  aou)  were  my  ftints. 

1  bid  you  but  bet 

I  bin  need  not  of  prayer; 
1  ban  need  of  you  fnc 
A)  youf  months  of  nuoe  attj 
I'hx  my  beut   nay  be  {rcatcr  withio    me, 
fruits  of  me  fatr. 


ALGERNON  CHARLES  SWlNBURNli 

More  fiir  (h«n  ttmtgc  Tniit  a 

Of  fiutbi  yc  espmdct 
In  roe  only  lix  root  is 
ThM  blooms  in  yovr  booshs: 
Itold  now  your   God  tfaat  ye   luMfe    you,  to   feed   turn 
witti  Cntb  of  your  raws. 

In  tfae  daikrning  lad  whitening 

Abysses  adored, 
With  (bysprioj  and  lightning 
For  bmp  uitt  for  swon). 
bd  tbuodert  in  heaicn,  and  his  aagd*  ue  red  wiili  the 
wmh  of  tbe  Lord. 

IO  my  MM.  O  too  dutiful 
Toward  Gods  not  of  me, 
Wai  not  I  coough  beautiful? 
Was  it  turd  to  be  free^ 
or  bdvold,  I  am  with  you,  am  in  you  and  of  yout  look 
fonh  DOW  aod  see. 

ILo,  wing'd  with  world's  wondeis, 
VTuh  iRiracIn  shod. 
With  the  6m  of  bis  thunders 
For  raiment  and  rod, 
od    trembles  in    bc«Ten,  aod   h»   aogels   arc  white  with 
tbe  terror  of  God. 

»FoT  bis  twilight  is  coou  on  him, 
His  anguish  is  facte ; 
And  his  ipiriu  gue  dumb  on  him. 
Grown  gray  frcm  his  fe«  t 
mI  bb  hour  ukrth  bold  on  him  suicken,  the  last  of  hit 
iofinitc  yea/. 


ALGERNON  CHARLES  SWI 


Thoughl  made  him  and   bml| 
Truth  slays  and   forgives; 


Ell 


lake 


you,  as  tunc 
This  new  ihiog  a  giies, 
E»cn  love,   the   beloved   Republic,   ihat  feedj 
and  lives. 

For  truth  only  is  living, 
Truth  only  is  whole. 
And  the  love  of  his  giviog 
Man's  polcstar  and  polej 
Man,  pulse  of  my  centre,  and  fruit  of  my 
of  my  sod. 

One  hirth  of  my  bosom  : 

One  beam  of  mine  eye; 

One  topmost  blossom 

That  icales  the  sky  t 

Man,   equal   and   one  with  me,  man   that   is 

man   tliat  is  I.  _ 


i 


ALGERNON  CHARLES  SWINBURNE 

alwajri  thee  th«  l«T*id  bn^d  glorin 
ADuvd  of  heavier  suns  in  mightier  skin; 
Thine  nn  knew  aU  dw  waodering  watery  nglia 

rhere  Uie  sea  tob«  nwnd  Lesbian  pKunoncoricft, 
The  barren  kiss  of  |Hl«ous  wave  to  vraiv 
Th^t  ktto-vi  DM  where  is  that  LeuCKliati  grave 

^hich  hides  too  deep  the  supreme  heul  of  song. 
Ah,  salt  sod  sterile  as  her  kisses  were, 
The  wild  »c»  winds  her  and  the  green  golft  bear 

•od  thither,  and  rex  and  work  her  wroai;, 
BBnd  gods  that  ca&noi  tpart. 


au  sawest,  in  thin«  old  singing  seasoa,  broilicr, 
Secrets  and  sorrows  unbehcld  of  ut: 
Fierce  lov«s,  sod  lovdjr  leaT-buds  pasoootB, 
to  tliy  subtler  eye,  but  for  none  other 
Blowiag  hy  night  m  some  unbreathed-in  dime ; 
The  Udden  turrest  of  luxurious  time, 
without  shape,  and  pleasure  without  tptecti; 
And  where  strange  drrams  m  a  tuniuhuoui  sleep 
Maks  ihr  shut  eyn  of  stricken  spirits  wctrp; 
wid)  each  fucx  tliou  uwr^t  the  shadow  on  each. 
ScMig  as  men  tow  men  reap. 


ileepleM  lieart  attd  sombre  sod  un^ceping. 
That  wen  athim  for  sleep  and  no  iDore  life 
And  DO  more  lore,  for  peace  and  no  more  nrifi:! 
Vow  the  dim  gods  of  death  ba«v  in  their  keeping 
SFUit  and  body  a»d  all  the  springs  of  song, 
Ii  it  wcU  now  wbtrt  Iotc  can  do  bo  wrong, 

1* 


ALGERNON  CHARLES  SWI 

Wbecr  stinglefs  pleasuie  has  no  foam  dl 
Behind  the  unopening  dosute  of  ber 

Is  it  not  well  where  soul   from  body 

And  flesh  from  bone  divides  without  a  p 

As  dew  from  fiuwer-bcll  drips  J 


nninf 


O 


It  ia  enough  ;    the  end  knd  the  be^n 
Are  one  thing  to  thee,  who  m  |iBst 
O  hand  unclasp'd  of  unbcholdcn  Ftie 

For  thee  no  fruits  to  pbck.  no  palms  fol 
No  Iriuinph  ind  no  labgux  and  no  li 
OnJy  dead  yew-lcavcs  and  a  little  dt 
quiet  eyes  wherein  the  light  sailh  naug 
Whereto  the  day  is  dumb,  nor  any 
With  obscure  finger  silences  your  sij 

Nor  in  your  speech  the  sudden  touI  spea! 
Sleep,  and  baTe  sleep  for  light. 

Now  all  strange  hours  and  all  strm^  1h 

Dreams  and  desires  and  sombie  son| 
II,. 


r.  _  J      1 — 


ALGERNON  CHARLES  SWINBURNE 


TIm  mou  h^h  Mums  that  fiillil  all  agc« 
Weep,  and  our  Goit'i  heart  yeutin. 

^OT,  Bpinng  of  hi>  ucrrd  itrcngth,  not  often 
Among  us  dttlding  here  the  lorii  of  light 
Makes  mxaireu  hb  music  knd  hb  mi^ht 

n  hMra  that  open  ind  jo  Wpn  ihit  lofien 

Wiih  ihe  »ofi  flame  ind  hnx  of  MngTi  that  shine. 
T>i)f  lips  indeed  he  tnxh'd  with  bttter  wme, 

Lnd  nourish 'd  them  indeed  with  bitter  bread ; 

Yet  nrely  from  bis  hand  thjr  soul's  food  cami*, 
The  lir«  ihit  scarr'd  thjr  spirit  U  hit  flame 

^i>  lighted,  sod  thine  huagcrrng  heart  he  fed 
Who  feeds  our  hearts  with  fame. 


rtierefore  he  too  now  ai  thjr  soul's  sanseiting, 

Ctid  of  all  Mffls  and  tongri,  he  too  befwls  down 
To  mix  his  Uurcl  vrith  tbf  cypirss  crown. 

Lad  'ave  thjr  dest  from  blame  and  from  forgetting. 

Tlicrcfore  h«  too,  seeing  aJI  thou  wert  and  »it, 

Companionate,  with  jad  and  sacred  he-an, 

urns  thee  of  many  his  chUdreo  tlie  lau  dead, 

And  hallows  with  smnge  tears  and  alien  sighs 

lliine  cnmctodioTis  mouth  and  sankss  eyes, 

knd  onr  thine  iirciocable  head 

Slieds  light  from  the  under  sliin. 

one  weeps  with  him  in  the  wa^  Leihettn, 
And  suins  with  tcan  hrr  changing  bosom  chill ; 
Thai  obscure  Venus  or  tlie  boUow  tull, 
at  tiling  trmsfotiu'd  which  was  the  Cytherean. 
Wiih  lips  that  Ion  tlMr  CiMian  bugh  divine 
Long  since,  sod  face  no  nton  catl'd  Erydne  — 


ALGERNON  CHARLES  SI 


A  ghoot,  a  btner  and  luxwiotB  god. 
Thee  alto  with  fair  fiesb  and 
Did  she,  a  tad  xid  tecond  fnj,  CMajj 

Into  thr  footku  jiaea  once  raora  trod, 
Aed  shadows  bot  froni  hell. 

And  now  no  sacred  tuff  shall  bmk  in 
No  choral  saltiution  lure  to  light 
A  qHrit  sick  wiili  petfunw  aod  sw««t 

And  lote's  tired  eyes  and  haods  and  faanei 
TItcre  is  no  help  for  thevc  things; 
And  oooe  to  mar;    not  all  our  fongs 

Will  nuke  death  clear  or  make  life  durable, 
Howbcit  with  rote  uid  iry  and  wild 
And  with  wiM  ootn  about  this  dust 

At  lean  I  lill  tlie  place  wiiac  wfailc 
Aod  wreathe  ao  uoMtn  sliriac. 

Sleep  i  and  if  life  was  bluer  to  thee,  pardoij 
If  sweet,  ciie  tlunks)   thou  hast  ito 
And  to  fjivc  thinlu  b  good,  and  to 

Oift  of  the  mplic  and  the  mouiniiil  garden 
Where  all  day  through  ihtne  hands  in 
Wore  the  »ck  Aowcn  of  secrecy  and 

Green  buds  of  sorrow  and  sin,  and  mn 
Sweet-stnellbg,  pale  with  poisoa,  sanj 
PauioM  that  spewg  from  sleep  and  thougl 

Shall  death  not  bring  m  all  as  tbee  one  da; 
Among  the  days  departed? 

For  thee,  O  now  a  silent  soul,  my  brotl 
Take  at  my  hand*  this  garland,  and 
"niin  is  the  leaf,  and  chill  the  wintry 

And  chill  the  solemn  earth,  a  taiul 


ALGERNON  CHARLES  SWINBURNE 


I 

^H        Wiih  Mdder  than  the  Nioboo  womb, 
^H^       AbiI  in  Uie  hollow  of  her  brewts  a  (omih. 
^HCoaCem  ihec,  tiow^ocW,  whoic  diy%  ire  dooc ; 
^H        TSne  1)M  not  anjr  troublous  thing  brforc, 
^V        Nor  sight  nof  (ouad  lo  wu  again»i  tltcc  taott, 
For  whom  all  viodf  arc  qmt  ts  the  ■un. 
All  waters  at  the  shore. 


ttylus 

^WALLOW,  my  jiKer,  O  sis«r  swallow. 
How  can  thine  linit  be  full  of  the  sprioj  ? 
A  thoosaad  lummers  arc  ortr  and  dead. 
h«U  thou  fouod  ia  if)«  spring  to  follow  F 

What  hast  thou  fouod  in  dbine  heart  to  singf 
Wlut  wilt  thou  do  when  the  lummer  is  ihed? 

swallow,  sister,  O  fair  swift  swallow, 
Why  wilt  thou  Ry  ifto-  spring  to  the  south, 
The  soft  south  whitber  thine  h>rjn  is  set  i 
BQt  the  grief  of  the  old  lime  foUow  \ 
Shall  Ml  (he  song  iliereof  clears  to  thy  mouth  f 
Haw  thou  forgotten  ere  1  (brgetf 

my  sister,  O  fleet  sweet  swallow. 
Thy  way  is  loag  to  the  sun  and  the  south; 
B«t  I,  fulfdl'd  of  my  hcui's  desire, 
ig  my  song  upon  height,  upon  hollow. 
From  tawny  body  atkd  sweet  small  moolh 
Feed  tine  heart  of  the  oigikt  with  fire. 

the  mghtingale  all  spring  through, 

O  swallow,  sister,  O  changing  swallow. 


ALGERNON  CHARLES  SWINBURN 

All  spting  through  till  Uir  a}irin](  be  do«, 
C'l(Mii«d  with  the  bght  of  the  ught  oo  ihc  dn 
Sing,  while  the  hours  and  the  wild  bitd>  F( 
Take  tlijhi  and  lollow  lad  &nd  the  WB.. 

Siiiter,  my  nster,  O  soft  light  iiwallow, 

Though  all  thing*  Jtsut  ia  the  ipriag*!  gunH 
How  hist  ihou  hesn  u>  be  glad  thnwrf 
For  where  tbon  flic*t  I  shtll  not  follow, 
Till  life  fbrficl  and  death  rcmcinbcf, 
Till  tbon  rciDnnbec  and  I  forgn. 

Swallow,  m;  lister,  O  tinging  itvatlow, 
J  know  not  how  thou  haA  hcan  lo  friag. 
HaM  thou  tl!«  hean!   is  k  all  put  oterf 
Tliy  lord  tlic  suninicT  ts  (;i9od  to  follow, 
Aad  fair  the  ft-rt  of  thy  lom  the  spring; 
Bm  what  wik  thou  say  to  the  spnog 

O  swallow,  sititer,  O  Revting  swallow. 
My  heart  in  me  ui  a  molten  ember 
Arid  otcr  my  head  tbe  warcn  have 
Jlut  thou  wouldst  Lirry  or  I  would  follow 
Could  I  forget  or  thou  rnnembrr, 
Couldst  ihou  remembet  and  I  forget. 

O  iweet  stray  »»er,  O  shifting  swallow, 
Tbe  heart's  division  dindetfa  nx. 

Thy  hesut  is  light  u  a  leaf  of  ■  tire ; 
Bui  mine  goes  fottb  anMng  tMt-£ulfs  billow 
I'o  the  place  of  the  slaying  of  Ityhis, 
The  fesn  of  DniBs,  the  Thntdaa  to. 

O  swallow,  sister,  O  lapid  swaUow, 
I  pray  thee  sing  not  a  litde  spaofe 
Ma 


ALGERNON  CHARLKS  SWINBURNE 

Arc  not  ih»  rooh  aod  the  Itawli  vtnl 
The  worai  web  thai  wm  filia  Ui  follow, 
Tbe  null  tUifl  body,  U>v  flown-likc  t$XM, 
Cm  I  niDcnibtr  if  tbou  forget  f 

O  MMn,  tincr,  thy  fint-fatgoOcnl 

Tint  tuod*  that  cliag  tod  the  fm  tbit  foUow, 
The  *aic«  of  ihe  child'*  blood  erpng  ytt, 
/f£v  lati  rrmtntrr'4  ml  f     «Mio  halh  fargollm  f 
Tbou  hau  forgotten,  O  lunuticr  »w4luw, 
But  ibe  world  »1mU  aid  when  I  forget. 


I 


WILLIAM  DEAN  H0WELL8 
t2.  Earliest  Spring 


T^OSSING  hb  maae  of  mows  Id  wUdni  cddin  uid 
^      tonulM, 

Waiiikc  Hirch  coineth  in,  boane,  whh  tcmpcstnotu  bnatfa. 
rhrDU};h  «U  the  moaning  cJumiicyi,  and  'thwvt  all  the 
hoUowi  aod  angtn  [death. 

Rouod    tbt   ihiKldcciag   liousc,   brrsthi^g  of   winter  ud 

But  \a  my  heaii  I  feel  the  life  of  the  wood  attd  the 
meadow 

Thrilling  the  poises  that  owo  kindred  wrih  fib<«s  ihM  lift 
Ind  aod  bltde  (o  tb«  suowud,  withia  the  tnscnsiable  (hadow, 

Deep  ia  the  oak'a  dull  cote,  under  the  gatbtring  drBt. 

vft  u>  nnh's  hft  and  muie  sorMe  pcnenoe  or  dream  or 
dcsiie  [goc*  — 

(How  thall  I  name  it  arighc?)  come*  for  a  monient  aitd 
Jpoire  of  life  inelUile,  perfect — ta  if  in  ibc  btier, 
Licaflen  there  by  my  dow,  tiemUn  the  aeaw  of  a  row. 


ff^bat  the  Ballet  sia^ 

O  JOY  of  creation, 
To  be! 

0  rapture,  to  fljr 

And  be  fVn! 
Be  the  battle  lost  or  won. 
Though  its  smoVe  shall  hide 

1  shall  find  my  love — the  on 

Bom  for  me  I 

I  shall  know  him  where  he  i 

All  alone, 
With  the  power  in   his  hand: 

Not  o'erthtown ; 
I   shall  know  him  by   his   faci 
By  his  gndlike  front  and  grai 
I   shall  hold   him   for  a   space 

All  my  own ! 

s  he— 0 

So  buid! 
It  is   I — all   thy  love 

Forelold  \ 
It  is   I— O   love,   what  bliss  ! 
Dost  thou  answer  to   my   kis! 
O   sweetheart !    what  is   tliis 

Lieth  there  so  coli 


JOHN  TODHUNTER 

JUaureen 

YOU  plant  the  paio  in  taj  heart  with  your  visiful 

Girl  of  my  choice,  Mnrrcn ! 
iU    jrou  drive    nw   miid   for  the  kissn  your  ihy,  sweet 
OMUth  <leiiM9» 

Maureen  i 

k*  ■  walluag  shoot  I  am,  >ad  do  words  to  woo. 

White  roK  of  the  West,  Haureen : 
V-  m'»  |ule  you  are,  amj  the  fear  that's  on  you  is  o*er 

me  too, 
^K  Maurcral 

^ht's  OM  con{diiat  that's  oo  US|  utbORi  thii  day, 

Pl  Bride  of  my  dttants,  Maurtn : 

ne  viurt  of  the  bee  (hat  siuog  m  bis  hooey  must  cure, 

|j^*«7  »y. 

^m  Maumti  I 

ll  eoax  (he  light  to  your  eyes,  and  the  rose  to  your  face, 

Maoouraeea,  tny  owa  Maureeo ! 
fhea  I  feel  the  wamtb  of  youi  bceui,  and  your  ncsi  is 

my  arm'*  embrace, 
^_  Maureen! 

Prktc  was  the  King  o'  the  World  thai  day — only  mml 

My  OM  troe  love,  Maureen ! 
lOd  yo«  the  Queen  with  nae  thti^  and  your  ihrooc  ia  my 
hcvt,  machree, 
Manrecnt 

xlc  9n 


JOHN  TODHUNTER 


8tf. 


ytghaiJoe 


HTHERE'*  a  filade  ia  Aghadoe,  AghMloe, 
^      Tbcrr  \  1  gmn  ind  silent  glade  in  Agl) 
Whciv  wc  in<t,  my  lore  and  I,  Lo>e'&  fair  pUnn  in  I 
O'er  thn  swMt  and  sUtnt  glade  in  Ashadoe. 

Then '9  a  gleo  in  Aghadoe,  Agbadoe,  Aghadoc^ 
There'*  a  deep  and  necret  glen  b  Aghador, 

Where  I  lii<l  from  the  eyes  of  the  red-«oats  uid  dM 
Tlu!  )Yii  the  tnniUe  came  ta  Aghadoe. 

O,  my  cune  on  one  btack  heart  in  Aghadoe, 
On  ShauD  Dbu,  my  mother'i  ton  is  Aghadoe  I 

When  your  throat  fric*  in  heU's  dnMth,  salt  the 
in  your  mouth, 
For  the  tmchery  jrou  did  in  Aglodoe  ( 

For  they  inck'd  me  (o  that  glen  in  Aghadoe,  aJ 
When  the  price  was  00  hi»  bcAd  in  Aghadoe: 

O'cf  the  mounuin,  through  the  wood,  as  I  stole  ta 
food, 
Wherv  in  hiding  lone  he  by  is  A^iadoc;, 

But  they  never  took  him  living  in  Aghadoe^ 
With  the  bullets  m  lus  Iieut  m  Aghadoe, 

There  lie  lay,  the  bud,  my  brvau  keeps  the  ' 
'twould  rtH, 
Gone,  to  win  the  tnutot's  gold,  fi'on  Agb 

1  walk'd  to  Mallow  town  from  A^Jx^Aot,   Agh 
Brought  his  head  from  the  gaol's  gate  to     __. 

Then  I  oover'd  him  with  fern,  and  I  piled  on  him 
Like  an  Iriih  Ring  he  deeps  in  Agliadoe. 


JOHN  TODHUNTER 

to  cnep  inui  thx  caira  in  Ajludoe,  Aghadoe  I 
There  lo  rcxt  upon  hb  breui  in  Af;luidoe  1 
^urr  yiMt  dog  for  fou  could  die  with  no  tnrr  hnrt  thao  I, 
YcHtf  own  lotc,  cold  on  jrour  cairn  to  Aghadoe. 


sm. 


WILFRm  SCAWEN   BLUNT 
Sfng 


o 


b.iS40 


FLY  aoc,  Pkasure,  pleaMiil>hMned  Plnsuni 
Fold  me  ihy  wings,  I  prithee,  j-ct  and  suy : 
For  my  hcait  no  mcR-siirc 
Knows,  nor  other  ucature 
To  bay  ■  prland  for  my  love  to-day. 

dioii,  too,  Sorrow,  irnder-lieaned  Sorrow, 
TIkju  gr»y-eycd  mourner,  fly  not  y«  sway : 
For  I  (tin  would  borrow 
Thy  Md  weeds  to-raofrow. 
To  Rial(«  1  mouroing  lor  toTc's  yMtenJiy. 

roioe  of  Kty,  Time's  diYine  dc»r  PSty, 
Moved  me  lo  uan '.    1  ducd  not  uy  thvm  nay, 

Bat  po*^  forth  rrwn  the  diy. 

Making  tfaia  roy  ditty 
Of  fair  love  lost  for  ever  and  a  day. 


r/7. 


0 


TAr  Vfsolate  City 


m 


lARK  to  me  b  the  eatth.     Dark  to  i»r  are  the  hravtns. 
Where  ts  she  lliat  1   lottd,  tltc  wom-in  with  «yrt 
I         like  tun? 

[je  are  the  Kieeta.     DrsoJate  b  the  ciiy. 
:iiy  taken  by  storm,  where  none  ve  left  but  ibe  Uiin. 


Wll-FRID  SCAWEN 


Sadlf  I  rose  at  dawn,  undid  the  latch  of  I 
Thinking  to  let  in  light,  but  I  oatf  Irt 

fiiidc  in  the  boughs  wen:  awake ;  I  listeo'd  to 
Etch  oat  Mug  10  bis  loTC)  only  I 


This,  I  mi  in  rajr  bean,  ix  the  hour  of  Idv 
Now  each  creMure  on  earth  hu  h»  joy,  aai 

l^ach  in  another's  eyes  (loAs  tight,  the  ligb^ 
This  b  the  noraent  of  pity,  this  b  the 

Spetdt,  O  dcMlatc  city !   Spnk,  O  silence  I 
Where  it  site  ihM  I  lotcd  in  niy 
to  my  soul? 
Where  are  those  paiaionate  eyes  that 
in  {MsioB? 
Where  is  the  mouth  that  Itiu'd  me, 


to  my 


owni 


Speak,  iliou  sou]  of  niy  soul,  for  rage  in 
Tell  me.  where  did^t  thoo  flee  in  llic 
and  (tari 

See,  my  atnu  icill  enftJd  thee,  enfolding 
See,  my  desire  it  fulfill'd  in  thee,  for  it] 

Thus  in  my  grief  I  lamented.    Tlwn  tura'd  1 1 
Tum'd  tu  the  stair,  and  the  ofen  door,  and  j 

Crying  aloud  in  my  gmf,  far  there  was 
None  to  mock  my  weakness,  none  to 

Growing  I  went,  ai  blind.     I  sought  ber  bou^ 
There  I  atopp'd  at  the  ulent  door, 
ihc  latch. 
Lore,  I  cried,  dott  thou  slumber?  Thi«  is 
Tilts  is  the  hour  of  love,  and  love  I 
9fi 


WILFRID  SCAWEN  BLUNT 

knew  the  hounr,  with  its  wimlowii  burr'd,  aoA  in  ladeu 

fig-irw, 
Climbing  round  bjr  ilw  dooretrp,  the  only  one  b  the  stnct ; 
knew  where  my  bo|ie  had  cHinb'd   to  its  god  and  therr 

encircled 
AU  that  thow  dnoktc  walb  onot  beld,  my  bclovM'i  hekn. 

ttttc  in  my  grief  Ae  contoled  tne.  She  loved  me  when 
I  loved  no*. 

Sbff  put  her  hiad  !n  my  hand,  and  set  her  lips  lo  my  1>{m. 
(be  told  me  all  her  paia  and  show'd  me  all  Iter  trouble. 

I,  like  a  fool,  scarce  hnrd,  hardly  rdvm'd  her  kiis. 

.ore,   ihy  eyes  were  like  torches.      They  changed   ■»   I 
beheld  them. 
Lore,  thy  lip9  were  tile  genu,  the  *eal  thou  t>ette»t  on 
my  liie. 

Love,  if  I  loTcd  not  then,  behold  this  hour  thy  reageance  i 
Tins  is  tbc  fruit  of  thy  loreand  thee,  the  unwix  grown  wiie. 

Weeping  itraogled  my  voice.     I  call'd  out,  but  none  inswer'd ; 

Blindly  the  windows  guxd  back  at  me,  dumbly  the  door  ( 
She  n^oni  t  toie,  who  loved  me,  look'd  not  on  my  yearning, 

Care  me  no  nwre  her  hands  to  kiss,  xhow'd  me  no  more 
her  »obL 

Therefore  the  eanh  i*  dark  to  me,  the  sunlight  blacknen, 
Therrfore  I  go  in  tears  >ml  *lone,  by  night  and  dayi 

Tbcreibre  I  find  no  love  in  hcaten,  no  light,  no  benty, 
A  heaven  taken  by  jtorm,  where  none  are  left  but  ibc  abin ! 


WILFRID  SCAWEN 


8tS. 


IVith  Esthtr 


IJ  E  who  has  once  been  hippy  b 
*■  -^      Out  of  destruction's  reach. 
Holds  nothing  sccnrt;    aod   Eternity,  i 

Which  is  a  mystery  to  other  mr 
His  like  3  woman  given  him  its  joj 

Time  is  his  conquest.      Life,  if  it 
Has  paid  him  tribute.      He  can  bear 

He  who  has  once  been  happy  I     W 
Tlie  world  before  rac  and  surrey  its  r 

Its  mean  amlntions,  its  scant  fsniasi 
The  shreds  of  plea^tire  which  for  lack 

Men  wrap  around  them  and  cail   ha\ 
The  poor  delights  which  are  the  talc 
Of  the  world's  courage  in  iLs  many 


lyii 

mi  a 


IVteo  I   hear  laughter  from  a  tavern 
When  I  see  crowds  agape  and  tn  tl 


WILFRID  SCAWEN  BLUNT 

819.  To  Manon,  on  bis  Fortune  in  loving^  Her 

~b    DID  not  choose  thee,  dearesC     It  was  Lore 
"^      That  made  the  choice,  not  L     Mitie  eyes  were  blind 
^\%  ■  ntde  shepherd's  who  to  some  lone  grore 
!t8  offering  brings  and  cares  not  at  what  shrine 
!e  bends  his  knee.     The  gifts  alone  were  mine; 
rest  wu  Love's.     He  took  me  by  the  hand, 
.^hiM)  fired  the  sacrifice,  and  poured  the  wine, 
Ami  spoke  the  words  I  might  not  understand- 

I  WIS  unwise  in  all  but  the  dear  chance 
V/luch  was  mjr  fortune,  and  the  blind  desire 
\vi»ch  led  my  foolish  steps  to  Lore's  abode, 
And  youth's  suUime  unreason'd  prescience 
Which  raised  an  altar  and  inscrSied  in  fire 
la  dedication   To  tht   Unhtamtu  Gad. 


820.  St.  yalmtine's  "Daf 

n^O-DAY,  alt  day,  I  rode  upon  the  down, 
^      With  hounds  and  horsemen,  a  brave  company 
On  (his  «de  in  its  glory  by  the  sea, 
On  that  the  Sussex  weald,  a  sea  of  brown. 
Tlie  wind  was  light,  aod  brightly  the  sun  shone. 
And  still  we  gallop'd  on  from  gorse  to  gorse : 
And  ottcc,  when  check'd,  a  thrush  sang,  and  my  horse 
Rick'd  lus  quick  eats  as  to  a  sound  unknown. 

I  knew  the  Spring  was  come.     I  knew  it  eren 
Better  than  all  l^  this,  that  through  my  chase 
In  bush  and  stone  and  hill  and  sea  and  heaven 
I  seem'd  to  sec  and  follow  still  your  face. 
Your  face  my  quarry  was.     For  it  I  rode. 
My  boTse  a  thing  tS  wings,  myself  a  god. 


WILFRID  SCAWEN  BLt 


821. 


GihraltAt 


CEVEN  weeks  of  sw,  aod  twi«  bc 
^  UpoQ  ihe  huge  Atlaatic,  and  ooc* 
We  ride  Iau>  Kill  water  and  the  calm 
or  a  «weel  erentag,  screen'd  by  either  »hi 
or  Spain  and  Barbaiy.  Our  todb  are  o'en 
Onr  exile  ix  accofliplith'd.  Once  ^igiia 
We  look  oa  Euro|x,  mistirss  u  of  jwv 
or  the  fur  earth  and  of  the  heaiu  or 
Ay,  this  is  the  famed  rock  which  H 
And  CotI)  and  Moor  be<)ncatli'd  ui.  At 
Eci^d  stands  sentry.  Cod  I  to  hear 
Sweet  trtUe  of  her  fifes  upon  the  brccxc^ 
And  at  the  Kummons  of  the  roclc  gun's  n 
To  ytt  her  red  coats  nnrchtn|  from  the  I 


Sii. 


f^ritten  at  Florenee 


/^   WORLD,  in  rety  tjfiitb  Ukw  m  to 
^^     When  wilt  thoo  leani  10  wear  the  | 
World,  Willi  ihy  covering  of  yellow  flowen 
Hast  thoa  forgot  what  generations  spniog 
Out  of  ihy  loias  and  loved  tliee  and  are 
Hast  tliou  DO  place  in  all  (bcir  heritage 
Wiete  thoQ  dost  only  weep,  that  t  may 
Nor  feai  tlie  mockery  of  lliy  yellow  flov 

0  world,  in  very  truth  thou  art  loo 
The  heroic  wealth  of  postioiuic  empdze 
Uuilt  tliec  fair  cities  for  thy  lultrd  plains 
How  hnst  ihou  set  thy  fliutuner  growth  i 


WILFRID  SCAWEN  BLUNT 

broken  Monn  wluch  wtrt  their  pabcnl 
thou  forgot  llw  dukntw  wixn  U  lies 
nude  thee  beuitirul,  or  have  thy  bee* 
und  our  kui  grave  to  buiU  their  hoaeycotahal 

worid,  in  vety  tnitb  thou  art  too  young  t 

gave  thee  lote  who  meawred  out  thy  tfcies, 
•  hen  Uiey  found  for  tbce  uiotbrr  war, 
■iMk  a  fntival  aad  Hnliglttvay  hong 
jfMd  on  thy  neck.     O  mavf  «rarU, 
tbov  forgot  the  {lory  of  thow  eyn 
blefi  first  loolc'd  love  to  thine  f    Thou  Kau  not  fwrl'd 
banner  of  thy  bndal  car  for  them. 
!^0  world,  in  tery  truth  tfaoti  an  too  young. 
was  a  Toic«  which  ang  about  thy  tpring, 
winur  froic  the  swtctans  of  his  lipt, 
lo,  the  warms  lud  hardly  left  his  tongue 
■Ion  thy  nighiingaira  were  contc  again, 
world,  what  couraf^e  hast  thou  thus  to  eing? 
y,  has  thy  metiiincnt  no  secret  pain, 
■udden  wcarincu  that  thou  aix  young? 


i2}.         Tie  Tvec  Highwaymen 

T    LONG  have  had  a  <|uanrl  set  with  Time 

^      Because  he  robb'd  me.     Every  day  of  life 

Was  wrested  &oin  me  after  bitter  stiifo: 

I  never  yet  covld  we  the  sun  go  down 

But  I  was  angry  tn  my  heart,  nor  bear 

The  h'avn  fall  in  the  wind  witfaoiat  a  tear 

Over  the  dying  summer.     I  hi*c  known 

No  truc«  with  Tine  nor  Time's  accomplice,  Drath. 

Kk3  MM 


WILFRID  SCAWEN  BLt 

The  fair  world  a  the  witntw  of  ■ 
Repeated  iver^  liour.     For  tiA  uid  bmth 
Ate  9w«et  CO  all  who  litei   md  bitterly 
The  voices  of  these  robben  of  the  hetfh 
Sound  ID  each  ear  and  chill  the  p(u«er-by. 
— Wlu»  h»»e  we  done  to  thee,  thou  inon«i 
What  have  we  done  to  Death  that  w« 


AUSTIN  DOBSON 

824,  A  GarJm  Song 

OERE  ia  this  6c<}Drs(cr'iJ  cli 
-^  ^     Bloom  the  hyactmh  aod  to- 
Her*  brskle  the  modest  stock 
riauacs  the  Aariog  botlybock: 
Here,  without  a  pMg,  one  sees 
Ranks,  condhiODs,  aad  degrees^ 

All  the  seasons  nn  their 
In  this  qoiet  resting-place  t 
Peach  and  a|iricot  aod  fig 
Hero  wil)  r^ien  and  grow  big; 
Here  is  store  and  oTrrpfai. 
More  had  not  AkJaoQil 

Here,  m  lUejrs  cool  and 
Far  ahead  the  thnisb  is  sc«D|3 
Here  along  the  «outheni  wiJI 
Keeps  the  bee  hit  festirali 
All  is  quiet  else— aCu- 
Sounds  of  toil  aad  mnoil 


AUSTIN  DOBSON 

Hov  be  shadows  brj^  *nd  loogt 
Here  be  spaces  meet  for  soogi 
Grtot,  O  gadta-foA,  ilui  I, 
Now  tbxi  none  profane  is  oigh, — 
Now  that  mood  and  moment  please, — 
Find  the  fair  I^eHdes! 


C/rceas  Exit 

Trxo&t 

T  INTENDED  aa  Ode, 

^      And  11  icra'd  to  a  Soooet. 

It  began  d  ia  noJe, 

1  miEoded  an  Ode; 

But  Rose  crosa'd  the  road 

In  her  bwKt  new  boooet ; 
I  intended  an  Ode; 

And  it  tuni'd  to  a  Sonnet. 

RmJtam 

TN  after  dajrs  when  grasses  high 
^     O'er-Up  the  stooe  where  I  sliall  Br, 
Tboogh  ill  oe  well  the  world  adjust 
My  sleoder  daim  to  hooout'd  diut, 
1  shall  not  i]uestio(i  nor  nifly. 

I  iluO  not  SM  the  iBontog  sfc^; 
I  dttU  not  hear  ibe  ntght-wind  light 
I  >h^  be  mate,  as  all  earn  naM 
In  after  days  I 


AUSTIN  DOBSCa 

But  yet,  now  liring,  r4in  tM 

That  some  one  then  should  I 

Saying — '  He  held  his  pen 

To  Art,   not  scrring  shJiD 

Will  Done? — Then  lei  my  m 


Id  afta  tk^  1 


4 


HENRY  CLARENCE  KE 


927. 


J/oent 


LJ  E  thai  is  by  Mooof 

*  *      Sees  the  waier-sapphin 

Where  the  River  Spirit,  dirimi' 

Sli«j)s  by  tali  and  Tountain  sires 

Under  lute  of  leaf  and  boogh 


TI_^^.      _    I 


I 

I 


HENRY  CLARENCE  KENDALL 

WNo  that  dwelli  by  Atooni  yet, 
Pvels  in  flowcrful  fotnt  Mcbes 
Smitint  win{i  and  bmth  iluit  [wrcbn 
Where  itronil  Scmmer'*  puli  of  march  j*, 

And  ihe  tuns  in  tbuoileT  Kt ! 
Houwd  bcitrsilh  the  gnicioai   lunte 
Of  the  shidowy  wrMcr-cnytile — 
Winds  may  kiss  with  hru  and  hunlc^ 

He  b  ufc  by  Mooni  yitt 

Days  then  were  when  he  who  tings 
(Diimb  M  long  through  jMsMnn';!  k>MC«) 
Stood  when  Mooei't  ivKcr  croen 
Shining  tncks  of  grcvn-hair'd  lOMSO, 

Like  *  Mul  with  ndijnt  wings : 
Then  the  fBtim  the  wind  rrhnrsrs — 
Then  the  long  the  scmnt  dis|>enes— 
Lent  X  beamy  to  kit  vcnes, 

Who  le-oight  of  Mooni  wgu 

Ah,  the  theme — the  ud,  gny  theme  I 
Cettain  dty«  arc  noi  ahote  nK, 
Ceiuin  beans  h*ve  c«ued  to  love  nK^ 
Ccititn  fiutcKs  fail  10  n)o«e  me. 

Like  the  effliKut  laoroing  dream. 
Head  whenon  the  vrhtte  b  xtealinic 
Hcut  wbooe  butu  ace  paM  sll  beahng, 
\\'hm  t>  now  the  firat,  pure  foeliotf 

Ah,  llw  (heme— the  ud,  gray  ihene  I 


Sdll  U)  be  by  Moooi  cool — 
Where  ibe  wurr-faiotaonu  glister, 


MtB 


HENRY  CLARENCE  KENDALL , 

Anil  by  ^tafnin^  vale  aad  vi*u 
Sia  the  Englith  AjiriJ's  sister. 

Soft  and  xweet  and  woodcrfut  I 
Jutt  to  rest  bateath  tbe  bumiqg 
Outer  world— its  sneers  and 
Ah,  my  he;in— my  htan  is 

Still  to  be  by  hloaai  cool  I 


ARTHUR    WILLIAM    EDO 
O'SHAUGHNESSY 


828.  O^f 

\//^  an  the  iDusic-nukcn, 

"       And  »«  »re  the  dffjimcrB  of  1 
WjndCTiog  by  loK  Mt-txcakers, 

And  sitting  by  dcsolttr  siraotsi 
World-loiets  and  worM-fotsaker), 

On  whom  the  pale  mooo  ijleamK; 
Yet  wc  are  the  riovot  and  ihakcni 

or  the  wofid  for  eivr,  it  •eemi. 


dtit^ 


Whli  wondeifiiJ  deathless  dtttjn 
Wc  build  vp  the  wotM's  gnat  dti 

And  out  of  a  fabdoas  Kocy 

We  tishion  an  empire's  glory  t 
Od«  man  with  a  dream,  at  pleawre^ 

Shall  go  forth  and  conquer  a  crown  i 
And  three  with  a  new  tong's  meuwre 

Can  inntplc  an  emirire  down, 
lood 


ARTHUR  O'SHAUCHNESSY 

Wc,  in  the  »g<a  lying 

In  the  buried  put  of  the  <anh, 
Dult  NiiKVch  with  our  nibbing. 

And  Babel  ttxlt'  with  oui  minli  [ 
And  oVfthrcw  iliciu  viiili  projihetyiag 

To  the  old  of  the  new  wotld's  wonhi 
For  each  age  a  a  dteun  that  ni  dyiqg. 

Or  oat  that  a  coming  to  biitfa. 


T    MADE  aaotber  garden,  yea, 

^      t'ut  my  new  Loi'o : 

I  Mt  the  dead  rose  wliere  it  lay 

Afid  Mt  die  new  abo*e. 
Why  did  my  Sufiunct  not  begin? 

Why  did  mj  bean  not  baste? 
My  old  Lore  uow  and  walk'd  therein, 

And  laid  the  garden  wme. 

She  cntct'd  with  hex  weary  male, 

Juft  as  of  old  I 
Slie  loolc'd  around  a  little  while 

And  thircr'd  with  the  cold : 
Her  pa»iiig  touch  vtt  death  to  all, 

Hrt  pasitDg  look  a  blight; 
She  BiAde  the  white  roW'iKtils  (tH, 

And  tom'd  Out  nd  tow  white. 

Her  pale  rcbe  cingiqg  to  the  gnu 

Sccin'd  like  a  sukc 
I'hK  bit  the  gts&i  jod  ground,  aba*. 

And  a  sad  tnul  did  ouke. 

roar 


[II 


1     Fw 

And  ma 
You  ! 

For  t 
You  sha 
At  leng 

Very  p. 
For  ] 
And 

Alike  f 
FuU 
And 

But  out 

And  tx 

And  ii 
So  E 
And 

To  hin 
You 
Kne 

And  y 


ARTHUR  O'SHAUGHNESSY 


I 


For  it  grown  incl  it  jtrovn,  «i  though  leafing 
Up  highrr  ibe  mon  one  b  thinkings 

I     And  cTcr  itA  lunrt  ^  on  xiaking 

More  iwiEnmlly  into  the  rtn : 

Ym,  so  blessM  *nd  good  m«ti»  tbM  foufltttn^ 
Ruch'd  aritT  dry  drmi  and  mounuia, 

You  shall  fall  down  at  length  ia  your  weeping 

Anl  bathe  your  ud  Ihoe  in  the  tean. 

Then  alat  I    while  you  lie  there  a  scaMn 
And  tob  between  tiring  and  dying, 
And  ^vc  up  the  laud  you  were  trying 

To  Tind  'mid  your  ho|>c3  and  your  fears  i 

— O  the  world  shall  come  up  and  paa  o'er  you, 
SuoDg  men  shall  not  stay  to  care  for  you, 

Nor  wonder  indeed  for  wb^t  reason 

Your  way  should  seem  barda  than  theirs. 

But  perhaps,  while  you  lit,  ner«  lifting 
Your  cheek  fiom  tJie  wet  lea?es  tt  pieMCS, 
Not  caring  to  rvM  your  wet  trtsKS 

And  look  bow  the  cold  world  appears — 
O  perhaps  the  mere  ttleoce*  round  you— • 
All  thing*  in  that  pbce  Grief  hath  fotmd  you— 

Yea,  e'en  to  the  clouds  o'er  you  drifting, 

May  soothe  you  sontcwhat  through  your  tears. 

You  may  feel,  when  a  filing  leaf  bnnbts 

Yow  Eaoe,  as  tiMugh  some  one  had  kiv'd  yo«t 
Or  think  at  least  aonie  one  wIm  miis'd  you 

Had  sent  you  a  tbouglil, — if  that  cheen  t 
Or  a  bird's  litile  song,  latnt  aitd  bcokei^ 
M^  pus  lor  a  tender  word  spoken : 

"•Enough,  while  ananid  ym  tbnv  rushes 

That  life-diQwning  lorreni  of  tears. 


ARTHUR  OSHAUGHNESSY 

And  tbe  itan  thiill  fiow  futn  And  fiutcr, 
Bran  om  mm)  bafflo  re«isui»cc, 
And  roll  down  bl«u'd  roads  lo  cacb 

Of  pan  desolation  and  yt*m 
Till  they  cov«r  the  |jace  of  «ach 
And  leatc  ]m  no  put  Mid  no  morrow  i 

For  wli4t  maa  it  able  to  master 

And  stem  the  great  Fonniain  of  Tcara  ? 

But  the  flood)  and  tbc  tnn  iqcm  and  gitbtr; 
The  somA  of  ihcm  aU  groivi  like  tbuoderi 
— O  into  what  bowm,  I  wonder, 

I*  pour'd  the  wbole  sorrow  of  years  } 
For  Eternity  only  seems  keeprog 
Account  of  the  great  human  weepjng; 

May  God,  then,  ihc  Makpr  ai>.l  Failwr— 

May  He  lind  a  pUce  for  the  tears ! 


JOHN  BOYLE  OREILLV 

831.  A  ff^hitt  Jiese 

'  I  'HE  red  ro«e  wfabpnx  of  pudon, 
*      And  the  white  rose  breathes  of  lorei 
O,  the  red  rose  is  a  fikon, 
And  the  while  rose  is  a  (love. 

But  I  tend  you  a  ctean-wfatie 
With  a  Audi  on  its  petal  dp; 

For  the  I01-C  that  is  puiew  uid  sweetest 
Has  a  kiss  of  dcare  00  the  lipa. 


ROBERT  BRIDGES 

S}2.  M/  'Jieiigbl  an^  Th/  'DtUgbt 

\XY  delight  aad  ih]r  <l«liglH 

J'l     Walking,  like  two  ansclt  wluu^ 

In  the  gardens  of  the  iujt'>*- 

Mj  daire  end  thy  dcsiir 
Twining  to  a  tongue  of  fin, 
Lopiog  lite,  and  laughing  higlieri 

Thro'  the  nvrlasdng  stn& 
In  the  mirstcrf  of  life. 


Low,  (rom  whom  the  wotM  bfjun, 
Hatli  the  secret  of  the  sun. 

Love  on  tell,  and  love  alone. 
Whence  ibe  million  iiun  were  vtrcwn, 
Why  tach  aiom  knows  its  own, 
How,  in  ipitc  of  woe  and  death, 
G«y  b  Efc,  and  sweet  is  bresth: 

t\a  he  taught  UK,  thit  we  knew, 
H^^  in  hU  science  Iiuc, 
H^nd  in  hand  u  wc  stood 
"Krath  the  shadows  of  the  wood. 
Heart  to  heait  as  we  lay 
In  the  dawning  of  die  day. 


b  •lit 


ROBERT  BRIDGES 


Ssj.  Spirits 

ANGEL  spiriu  of  sleep, 
"^     White-robed,  with  si 
Id  your  meadows  fair. 
Where  ihe  willows  wetp, 
And  the  saA  laoaahraia 
On  the  gliding  stream 
Writes  her  scattered  drtamt 

Angel  spirits  of  sleep. 
Dancing  to  the  weir 
In  the  hollow  roar 
Of  its  W3tci5  deep; 
Know  ye  how  men  say 
That  ye  haunt  no  moie 
Isle  and  gtassy   shore 
With  your  moonlit  play; 
That  ye  dance  not  here. 
While-robed  spirits  of  sleeps 


ROBERT  BRIDGES 

A  ihroe  of  th«  heux, 
luMC  pining  visions  dim,  fofbiddrn  hojm  gitorotifid, 
No  dying  udcacc  nor  kmg  sigh  cin  sound, 

For  all  out  art. 

Alooe,  tloud  in  Ux  npturcd  car  of  ratti 
Wc  pour  our  dark  nocnirail  secret  t  uul  then, 

Aa  night  is  wiLhiirawn 
From  thMt  sweet-springing  mraiii  jnd  bunting  bougbsi  of  May, 
DrtMB,  while  tlie  innumptable  cl)oir  of  day 

Weicome  the  diwo. 


*/r. 


^  Tasser-i/ 


''HITHER,  O  splendid  ship,  thy  white  siils  crowding. 
Leaning  across  th«  bosom  of  the  urfient  West, 
at  fcamt  nor  sea  rising,  nor  sky  clouding. 
Whither  away,  fair  rover,  and  what  thy  ifuettf 
Ah !    Mon,  when  Winter  has  all  our  vales  oyprvi, 

skies  arc  cold  and  misty,  and  hail  is  hurling. 
Will  ihoil  gjUc  on  the  blue  Pacilic,  or  rest 
■  MnuDer  haTCO  Mkvp,  thy  while  sails  furling. 

there  before  thee,  in  the  country  that  well  thou  koowest, 
Already  arriTrd  am  inhaling  the  odorou  air: 
watch  thee  enter  unerringly  where  thou  goeit. 
And  anchor  queen  of  the  strange  shipping  there, 
Thy  avis  for  awnifigs  spread,  thy  nusts  bare : 
r  Is  aMghi  (tool  the  foaming  re«f  to  the  soow-capp'il  grandest 
Peak,  that  b  oicr  the  feuheiy  palms,  note  &ir 
_Thaa  thou,  so  npt^ht,  so  natdy  and  ttiO  ibou  vandost. 


ROBERT  BRUXSEiSi 

And  ytt,  O  sptctttfiil  ship,  onluil'd 
I  know  noi  if,  «isiin{  a  fancy,  I 

That  thou  htu  ;i  jMirpoK  joyfvl,  ■ 
Th/  port  anioinl  ia  i  happier  bnA] 
But  for  all  I  lure  given  thrt,  bcxut) 

A%  thou,  asbnt  with  trim  tackle  and 
Prom  the  praad  nottril  otne  of  a  I 

In  the  oSag  scatterat  foant,  thy  wliiti 


8  J  6.  Abstrtct 

VJ(7HEN  my  tow  wis  awa^,] 

**       Full  three  daja  were 
I  caught  my  fancy  uiny 
Thinking  if  ibe  were  dcMl, 

And  I  <lou,  alooc: 
It  Kcin'd  in  my  nuKty 
In  all  the  world  was  none 
Eirr  so  looe  as  L 

I  wept[   bm  it  did  not  shame  ' 
Not  comfon  my  heart :   away 
I  Tode  as  I  might,  and  came 
To  my  love  at  close  of  day. 

The  si^  of  her  will'd  my  fe« 
My  faire&t-heaited  lore: 
Ani!  yet  in  her  eyes  were 
Which  when  I  qucstjoo'd 


'O  now  thou  art  eo«i»,' 
"T»  fled:   but  I  ibon^ 
1  nerer  cotild  here  abide, 
If  thou  wen  longer  away.* 

MI4 


ji 


ROBERT  BRIDGES 


8S7. 


Oh  a  7}eaJ  ChiU 


pGRFECT  Hnle  body,  witboot  &nlt  or  itun  on  thw, 
^         Wiilt  proiDue  of  strength  and  manhood  (iill  uid  £iir! 

Though  cold  umI  ftark  and  bore, 
Tht  bJoom  and  the  charm  of  life  doth  awhite  rcituJa  oa  (bc«. 

Thy  mother's  treasure  wert  ihouj — alas  I    no  loager 
To  rait  ber  bcm  with  wondrous  Joy  i  to  be 
Thy  Ettber's  pnde:— ah,  he 
Muu  gather  his  ftith  tojetber,  sod  hb  strength  make  stronger. 

To  me,  as  I  moTc  Uiee  now  in  the  laH  duty, 
Do»  thoti  with  a  nun  or  gnlure  aooo  reload; 
Sunting  my  fancy  fond 
With  a  chaooe  auhuk  of  ihc  bead,  a  fieak  of  beauty. 

Tby  hand  clasps,  as  'twas  wont,  my  finger,  and  holds  h; 
But  the  grasp  is  the  clasp  of  Death,  brartbreaktng  and  itiirt 
Yet  feels  to  my  hand  as  if 
'^was  still  thy  will,  thy  pleasure  und  miM  that  enfolds  it. 

So  I  by  thee  then,  thy  sunken  eyelids  closing, — 
Go  be  tbou  (here  in  thy  coffin,  ibj  l>tt  tittle  bed! — 
Ptoppog  thy  wise,  sul  head, 
Thy  fitm,  pale  haads  across  thy  chest  dispoaiaft 

So  quiet  I    doth  ihc  chaoge  content  thee?— Death,  whitber 
hath  be  t^ea  thee? 
To  a  world,  do  I  think,  that  rights  ibe  disaster  of  this  I 
The  nuoB  of  which  I  miss, 
_Wbo  weefi  for  the  body,  and  wish  but  to  wann  thee  uid 
awaken  thee? 


ROBERT  BRIDGES 


Ah !    Utile  at  best  can  bU  aur  hopes  avail 

To  lift  this  sorro*,  or  cbcer  us,  wheq 

Unwilling,   alone  wc  tmbark, 

And  the  things  we  have  sccD   and  hs' 

heard  of,  fill  us. 


SiS. 


Ta/er  Filie 


1 


CENSE  with  keenest  edge  irnn 
^  Yet  unsteel'd  by  scathing  li 
Lovely  feet  as  yet  unbruised 

On  the  ways  of  dark  desire ; 
Sweetest  hop«  tiiat  looltest  smilic 
O'er  the  wiJderness  defiling ! 

Why  such  beauty,  lo  be  biighted 
By  the  swum  of  foul  dntiuci 

Why  such  innowncc  d^lighud, 
When   sin  stalks  to  thy  seduct 

All  the  litanies  e'er  chaunlcd 


RODfiRT  BRIDGES 


tVmter  Nightfoll 

T^HE  dif  Ugins  to  droop, — 
^       Its  GOyne  is  donei 
But  Mtliiag  ullf  the  place 
Of  the  Mtting  siui. 

The  haiy  dukons  dwpma, 

And  up  the  Une 
YoD  may  heir,  but  unnoi  Ke, 

The  homing  wain. 

An  engine  ptnti  xnA  bums 

In  the  fann  hard  by: 
Its  lowTiing  smoke  is  lost 

In  the  towering  iky. 

The  sinking  brsnchea  drifs 

And  all  nighl  ihrcnigh 
The  dfO|>png  will  dm  cease 

In  ihc  ateoue. 

A  tall  man  there  io  the  home 

Must  ktep  his  chair: 
He  knows  be  will  never  again 

Breathe  the  spring  air : 

His  heart  i«  worn  with  work} 

He  it  giddy  and  skk 
If  he  rhc  to  go  as  far 

As  the  nearest  rick: 

He  thinks  of  his  mom  of  tife^ 
His  hale,  stroog  '/tin  i 

And  \xxm  as  be  tnay  the  ntgbt 
Of  darkneu  and  tears. 


fj 


840-  l^'hcn  'Deati  to  -Either' 

W/'HEN  Death  to  dther  shJl 

I  pray  it  be  first  w  mc,- 

B?  happy  as  ercr  at  hnmc. 

If  so.  33  I  u'ish,  it  be. 

Possess  Uiy  hcirt,  my  own ; 

And  sing  to  the  child  on 
Or  read   to  thyself  slooe 

The  songs  thai   I   made  for  tLi 


ANDREW  LANO-J 
The  Qdytie^ 

S  one  that  for  a  weary  space  hi 
Lull'd  by  the  song  of  Circe  w. 


84^- 


WILLIAM  ERNEST  HENLEY 
/nvicfits 


OUT  of  the  r.igln  ih«  coww  roc, 
Bi^ck  m  the  pit  from  pole  to  pole, 
1  tkuik  wlmtcver  godi  laty  be 
Fot  my  iinconqunable  muI. 

In  the  Ml  dutch  of  dmunnancc 
I  b»e  not  winced  oor  died  alowL 

UtKln  the  bludgcomngs  of  chxiR 
My  hMd  b  bloody,  but  nnboiv'd. 

B«]rand  thii  place  of  wnth  »od  itan 
Loom!)  but  Uk  Horror  of  the  sh»dc, 

Aod  yet  (he  tacnixx  of  the  yew* 
Fiods  and  ih^  find  me  tinafnid. 

It  matters  not  how  strait  the  gate, 

How  char;^  with  [unishnictitt  the  ktoIIi 

I  an)  tbe  nuscer  of  niy  fate: 
1  tin  tbc  Gjqitaia  of  my  soul. 


b  iftM 


S4J.  Afarg/irifte  Sonri 

A    LATE  latk  twmen  fram  the  qintt  »ktn 
■*»■    And  from  the  wwi, 
Where  the  «un,  his  Arft  woric  esded, 
Lingera  as  in  ccntnil, 
There  fills  0«  the  old,  gray  city 
An  iaAsenct  krelnout  and  VRoe, 
A  ihininj  peace. 


WILLIAM  ERNEST  HE» 


I 


The  smoke  ascends 
In  a  rosy-and-golden  haip.  The 
Shine  and  are  changed.  In  the  » 
Shjdows  rise.  The  brk  sings  oo 
Closing  his  benediction, 
Sinks,  and  the  darkenisg  air 
Thrills  with  a  sense  of  the 
Night  with  her  Uain  of  stare 
And  her  great  gift  of  sleep. 


i 


So  be  my  passing ! 

My  task  accomplish'd  and  ihe  Ion 

My   wages  taken,   and  in  my  hean 

Some  late  lark  singing,  i 

Let  me  be  gather'd  lo  the  quiet  " 
The  sundown  splendid  and  serene, 
Dealh. 


■    V/hetti 


WILLIAM  ERNRST  HENLEY 


Where  iJull  ibc  watcliful  nm, 

En|land,  nj  EngUad, 
M^tch  the  nuMcr-w«rk  fOuV  done, 

EnjUnd,  my  own? 
Wbtn  slull  he  rejoice  tgfti 
Svch  a  breed  of  mighty  mm 
At  come  Ibrwanl,  one  to  ten, 

To  the  Song  oo  jronr  bugl«  blown, 
EBghnd- 

Dowo  the  fan  on  pur  bugles  blovnJ 

Ettr  the  raitb  cndum, 

Cnglind,  tttj  England:— 
'T»ke  tad  breik  us:    we  are  yourj, 

England,  my  own! 
Life  »  good,  aad  joy  runs  high 
Between  En^ltth  eanh  ud  skj: 
Deatli  19  death  i   but  we  shall  die 

To  the  Song  on  your  bugles  blown, 
England — 

To  the  stars  on  youi  buglen  Uownl' 

They  call  yon  proud  aod  han), 

England,  my  Engkind ; 
You  with  woridt  to  watch  and  ward, 

England,  my  own ! 
You  whox  mail'd  hjnd  keeps  the  keys 
Of  Mcb  teeming  dntiniec, 
Yon  could  know  nor  drod  nor  ea«e 

Were  the  Song  oo  your  bugtrs  blown, 
England, 

Round  the  Pit  on  your  bv^les  blown! 


WILLIAM  ERNEST  HI 

Mother  of  Sliipi  wfioK  tnighi, 

Engluid.  my  Eaglaad, 
It  the  licTce  old  Sm'«  delight, 

EngUad,  my  ova, 
Chowo  (taugliur  of  (be  Lord, 
Spouse-tn-Chief  of  the  indcM  8« 
That'*  the  menace  of  tlie  Word 

Id  the  Song  oo  your  bugle*  blon 
Eoglud'^ 

Ont  of  heaven  oo  your  bugtes 


EDMUND  COSSE 

S4  f.  Jtevthlion 

T  NTO  d»e  dTef  nighi 
*•     She  brought  with  her 
The  topiz  IflDihora- light, 
At)d  daned  sgilcodout  o'er  the  laodf 
Aiound  her  la  a  tMul, 
Rirignnked  aad  pied,  the  great  soft  mc 

And  fldpfiing  with  their  mad  wiitgi, 
The  Aickrring  flame,  aKcnding,  falling, 

Behind  the  thorny  pnk 

CloM  wall  of  bloMom'd  may, 

I  giized  thro*  one  green  cbink 

And  law  no  more  than  ihocundB  miy,^ 

Saw  tweetness,  letider  ind  gay, —  | 

Saw  full  row  lipi  as  rounded  m  the 

Saw  braided  locks  aiorc  daHt  than  bay,  | 
And  flashing  eye*  decorous,  put^ 


EDMUND  GOSSS 

With  food  foe  ftiny  TrinNb 

She  pa.ik'd,  h«r  bmp  utd  Ae, 
Till  MTM  and  gable-rod* 
Hid  ill  that  MJfroa  BhiMa  from  ne; 
Around  my  roiy  tree 
)ik:c  more  the  birei-tnury  night  was  sKinitij, 
With  dcf^tis  of  hnvcn,  dewy  and  (m, 
erywals  of  a  atrta  inooa  declining. 

Alas)    for  him  who  dweUs 
In  frigid  air  of  thuugkt. 
When  wann«T  light  diiipels 
Tlie  IroicQ  calm  hii  tpirit  sought  i 
By  life  too  latrly  uught 
le  »en  the  eciuiic  Human  front  him  steaBng ; 
RccU  from  the  joy  experience  brooght, 

dam  not  cbUh  wtut  Lore  was  lulf  reiraling. 


ROBERT  LOUIS  STEVENSON 
'^Sa^.  Bemtxnce 

I  WILL  nuke  y«u  brooches  and  toys  for  your  delight 
Of  bird-song  at  morning  and  nar-thinc  at  night, 
•ill  Rukc  a  [lalacc  6t  for  yon  and  me, 
*  grem  days  in  fomts  and  bloc  days  at  sea. 
bet 


ill  make  my  kitchen,  and  you  shall  keep  your  room, 
here  white  flows  the  riivr  and  bright  blows  the  broom, 
And  you  shall  wash  your  linm  and  lieep  ymir  body  white 
In  rainfall  at  moraiog  and  dcwftU  at  oigfai. 


ROBERT  LOUIS  STEVENSO 

And  this  shall  be  for  music  when  do  ooe  c 
The  fine  song  for  aiogiag,  the  rare  song  to 
That  only  I  rnnembtr,  that  only  you  admin 
Of  the  broad  road  that  stretches  and  the  ra 


S47. 


/a  the  Highlands 


1 


T  N  the  highlands,  in  the  country  places, 

^      Where  the  old  plain  men  have  rosy  I 

And  the  young  fair  maidt-ns 

Quiet  eyes  ; 

Where  essential  silence  chills  and  blesses, 

And   For  ever  in  the  hill-recesses  1 

Her  more  lovely  music 

Broods  and  dies- 

O   to  mount  again  where  erst  I   haunted  ; 
Whi'jc  the  old   reJ   hills  are  bird-cnchanit 
And   (lie  low  green  mc:iilows 
Bright  with  sward ; 
And  when  even  dies,   the  million-tinted. 
And  the  night  has  come,  and  planets  glii 
Lo,  the  valley  hollow 
Lanii^bestJiT'd  I 

O   to  dieam,   0   to  awake  and   wander 
There,   an  J   with   delight  to  take  and   rend 
Through  the  trance  of  silence, 
Quiet  breath  ! 
Lo  !    fur  there,   among  the  flowers   and   gr 
Only  the  mightier  movement   sounds  and 
Only  winds  and  rivers, 
Life  and  death. 


ROBERT  LOUIS  STEVENSON 


r 


848.  Requiem 

r  TNOER  tbr  wide  aad  Many  &ky 
^^      DiK  the  grave  and  let  im  liei 
GUd  dill  I  live  ind  gbdiy  die. 
And  1  laid  me  down  with  «  will. 

Th»  be  the  *ctM  you  ^ava  for  me  i 

Hti  if  Fill   vrhtrl  it  IsKg'd  It  it  / 

Hemt  it  lit  laiifr,  iemt  frtm  mj, 
jtmi  iht  bumlrr  borne  /rtm  lit  US. 

T.  W.  ROLLESTON 

849.  The  "Dead  at  Clonmacnois 
raok  THE  IRISH  or  akous  o'cillax 


k.»jj 


'^N  a  quiet  waicr'd  bad,  a  Und  of  roics, 
-^  Stands  Snnt  Kietaa's  city  &ir| 

-And  the  wanion  of  Eria  in  their  fanioui  genentioBt 
Slianber  there. 

There  beixath  the  dewy  hiltudc  sleep  the  noblest 
Of  the  clan  of  Conn, 
Each  below  bis  Mone  with  name  in  braacbiDi  Oj>bam 
Aod  the  sacred  knot  thereon. 

There  ihey  laid  to  rest  the  screo  King^  of  Ton, 
Tliere  the  »on«  of  C»ibrJ  sleep— 

of  the  Gael  that  in  Kiena'i  plaia  of  cmwt 
Now  their  final  hosting  keep. 

And  in  Cloonucaots  thejr  laid  th«  nwB  of  TeSa, 

And  right  many  a  lord  of  Breagh  | 
Deep  the  sod  abote  Claa  Cn*d»  and  Clan  ConaiU, 

Kiod  in  bail  and  fierce  in  tiaj. 

lI  mh 


T.  W.  ROLLBS 


Many  and  many  a  son  of  Conn 

In  the  red  earth  lies  at  restj 

Matty  a  blue  eye  of  Clan  ColTmo  ih 
Many  a  swan-white  bnasi. 


\ 


Syo. 


Song 


T^HE  boat  ii  chafing  at  our 
*       And  we  must  leave  tcxi 


JOHN  DAVIDSO> 

\ 

s 

The  spicy  sea-pinks  and   iJic   tnh 
The  uwcy  sindi,  the  moon. 

Keep  us,   O  Thetis,   in  ow  wes 
Watch  from  thy  pearly  ihnmi 

Our  vessel,  plunging  deeper 
To  reach  a  land  unknown. 


«per  am 
Jiown.  1 

m 


JOHN  DAVmSON 

Till  tbc  Digfat 
Was  uodoae 
In  hrr  lisht 
With  the  MO. 

The  bran  orb  in  mte  rMe^ 
And  cniiHon  he  shone  GrM| 
While  from  the  high  *ine 
or  bearra  iIk  dawn  botst, 
Suinng  the  great  iom 
From  ely-Iiae  to  tkyline. 

The  red  rose  of  mora 

A  while  rote  u  ooon  turo'dl 

But  M  tuoMf  reboni 

AM  red  ^gaio  toon  buin'd. 

Then  the  pale  rote  of  aooodiy 

Rcbloom'd  in  tbe  night, 

And  spectrally  while 

In  the  liglii 
Of  tbe  mooo  ttif. 

Bin  tbe  vast  rose 

Was  KmtleM, 
And  this  is  ihe  reuucii 
When  the  Mast  loae 

Relratlen, 
And  brought  in  due  ««uoa 
The  Miow  rose,  the  tut  rote 
ConpaTd  in  iu  breath. 
Then  came  with  it  tmioo) 
Tbe  tiailor  wai  Death. 

la  keTaUey)  crowded, 
The  rimf  asd  ihc  bitdt 


JOHN  DAVID 


beid^ 


Were  fioira  and  ihjwn 
In  flighis  and  in  he 

In  hjgtways 
And  byways 
The  young  and  the  old 
Were  tonureJ  and  madd 
And  m'd  by  the  colA 
Bui  many  were  gladden* 
By  the  beautify  last  ros 
The  blossoTu  of  do  autv 
That  carae  when  ihe  soi 

In  dartncss  uafurl'd 

The  wonderful  ¥ast  tose 
That  BU'd  all  the  wt 


world 


WILLIAM  WATSO: 


WILLIAM  WATSON 


Ode  in  May 

T  ET  me  go  forth,  and  share 
"     The  oTwflowing  Sun 

With  oac  wiie  friend,  ot  floe 
Bettrr  thu  wise,  being  fai/, 
Where  ihe  pcwii  wheels  ind  dips 

On  heights  of  bncken  «id  liag, 
Aod  Evth,  unto  her  Icailct  tips, 

Tingles  with  the  Spriog. 

What  is  so  sweet  and  dear 
As  a  prosperous  mom  in  May, 
The  coolident  prime  of  the  day, 

And  the  d^unOes^  youtJi  of  the  year. 

When  trothing  that  ^s  for  bliu, 
Askiojt  aright,  is  denied, 

And  h^f  of  the  world  a  bridcj^noin  ia, 
And  lulf  uf  the   world  a  briJe  ? 

The  Song  of  Minglittg  ftov*, 

Grave,  cereoionial,  pre, 

As  ooce,  from  lif«  ihu  endure^ 
The  cotoiic  dc«caat  rose, 
When  the  temporal  lord  of  life, 

Going  his  goMeo  w-^r. 
Had  taken  a  woedtoui  nuid  to  wife 

That  bog  had  ^d  him  nay. 

For  of  old  the  Sun,  our  sire, 
Qixat  wooiDg  the  mother  of  raeti, 
Eaith,  that  was  tirgiml  then, 

Vesul  fire  to  his  fire. 

SilcM  het  boaoBi  aad  coy, 

Bw  the  ttrons  god  sued  ind  press'dt 


WILLIAM  WATS 


ma 


And  bom  of  their  starry  nitptiai  j 
Are  all  that  iliink  of  h«  bnas 

And  the  triumph  of  him  that  beg 
And  the  trawul  of  her  that  but 
Behold  they  are  erertnorc 

As  waq)  and  weft  in  our  lob 

We  are  children  of  spleodoar 
Of  shuddering,  also,  and  tears. 

Ma^iJicent  oat  of  the  dust  we  a 
And  abject  from  the  Sphcrca^ 

O  bright  irreaslibic  lord!  ^ 

Wc  are  fruit  of  Earth's  wnmb. 
And   fruit  of  thy  loins,   O  Sua 

Whence  first  was   the  seed  otitpou 

To  thee  as  our  Failier  wc  boWj^ 
Forbidden  thy  Father  (O  SttP% 

Who  is  older  and  grtater  thaa  w 
Art  greater  and  oJder  than  we. 

Thou  art  but  as  a  wonl  of  hts  ^ 


WILLIAM  WATSON 

•The  afi«T-sikt)ce,  when  the  fewtt  n  o'er, 

AmI  void  the  placa  whrrc  the  miosticl*  stood, 

Dil&fs  to  noygbt  from  whut  hith  bccti  before, 
Aad  it  nor  ill  oor  good/ 

.  Ah,  but  the  ApitarilioB — the  dumb  sign — 

The  beckoning  finger  bidding  me  forgo 
*I*he  fL-llowthip,  the  ooonne,  and  the  wioc. 
The  •(»£»,  llic  fesul  glow ! 

Asd  kh,  u>  know  not.  while  with  friends  I  til. 
And  while  llie  purple  foj  is  pass'd  ■boot, 

\^'hcthcr  'lb  ampler  dty  ditinelier  lie 
Or  hon»cle»  night  without  t 

And  whether,  stcpjitng  fonh,  oijr  soul  thill  see 
New  (cospccts,  or  fall  sheer — a  blinditl  thing  t 

Tttrt  is,  O  gtjre.  thy  hourly  tictory, 
And  there,  O  dcafa,  thy  siing. 


HEKRY  CHARLES  BEECHING 

Ptvyers 

GOD  who  created  me 
Nimble  4od  light  of  limb, 
In  ihrre  dcmentt  free, 

To  run,  to  ride,  to  swim : 
Not  wbcn  the  sense  is  diai, 

hvl  now  Irom  the  heart  of  joy, 
I  would  rcmeniber  Him: 
Take  the  thinks  of  >  boy. 


b.il» 


"»" 


HENRY  CHARLES  BEE 


Je^u,  King  and  Lord, 

Whose  are  my  foe* 
Gird  mc  with  Thy  swop 

Swift  and  sliarp  and  brij 
Thee  would  I  serve  if  I  n 

And  conquer  if  I  can. 
From  day-dawn  nil  night, 

Tate  the  strength  of  a  i 

Spirit  of  Love  and  Truth, 

Breathing  in  grosser  day 
The  light  and  flame  of  yot 

Delight  of  men  in  the  fi 
Wisdom  in  strength's  decaj 

From  pain,  strife,  wrong 
This  best  gift  I  pray, 

Take  mj  spirit  to  Thw. 


S^6.  Gohig  down  Hill  oii 

A   BOV's  SOKS 


i 


HENRY  CHARLES  DEECHING 

S«]r,  butrt,  is  thtn  night  like  thit 
In  a  ivoild  Out  is  full  of  bkni 
Tis  mure  than  skatinB,  buood 
Stecl-ihod  to  the  Icid  ground. 

Speed  tJackms  now,   I  Drat 
A<*)iilc  in  my  airy  boAi; 
IMI,  when  ihr  tvbocls  tcarcr  enwl, 
My  fM  10  llic  uewUcs  kU. 

Alas,  that  the  lonf;cA  kill 
Muit  end  in  a  rale;   but  still, 
Wbo  dimbs  with  toil,  whcrcvoc'cf, 
Shall  find  Wtn^s  waitiog  tbcre. 


BLISS  CARMAN 


l^OR  a  utnc  unknown, 
^     Whose  fame  unblvwo 
Sleeps  in  tbe  hills 
Foe  ever  sod  aj-eg 

For  her  who  hrara 
The  uir  of  the  yean 
Go  by  oa  the  wiad 
By  nighi  aoJ  day; 

And  bceds  do  thujt 
Of  tbe  twnb  of  %}'nng. 
Of  ■Btumn'a  wundet 
Or  winter's  chtU  ( 


k.iK> 


8fS. 


U 

Fa 

J 

Ab 

r 

W. 

M; 

In 


DOUGLAS  HYDE 

WcR  1  and  mjr  duliog— 
O  bcafi^riticr  wouodl — 

On  botrd  of  the  ship 
Fof  Amcriei  bouod. 

On  ■  gnco  bed  of  nuiwi 

AB  Um  night  I  lay, 
And  I  flung  h  ahnad 

With  the  beat  of  ihc  dajr. 

Aod  mjr  Lore  came  behind  mc, 
He  canie  rrom  the  Soutli| 

H»  UtiM  to  tay  bowni, 
His  nxMith  to  isy  niouth. 


ARTHUR  CHRISTOPHER  BENSON 

hfi.  Tie  Thanix 

D  V  Inihen  green,  urosa  Casbctn 
*^     The  pilgrims  iradt  the  Phenux  lloira, 
By  E"°*  *>*  sirvw'd  IB  waste  ud  wood. 
And  jfwcU'd  plumes  K  rxidoni  thiowa. 

Till  waodering  iiir,  by  mooo  ■nd  stv . 

Tbc;  nCutd  bcnlc  the  fruitrul  f^ie, 
Where  breskiog  bright  with  ungube  Ijgbt 

The  impd&iic  bird  forgets  his  aire. 

Tbove  Mbes  Khioe  like  ruby  wine, 
Like  bag  of  Tynan  mumc  *pih, 

Tbe  cUw,  ibr  jowl  of  the  flying  fowl 
Are  with  the  gioriovi  u£i»>h  gilc 


ARTHUR  CHRISTOPHER  BJ 

So  rare  the  iighi,  SO  lich  the  s^ 
Those  pilgrim  nm,  oa  profit  I 

Ctop  hanth  and  eyn  aod  iscrcln 
And  aic  with  gazing  moa  con 


\ 


HENRY  NEWBOLT 
860.  He  fell  among  Thievti 

'VE  have  robb'd,'  said  he,  'ye  ha*c  slaug 
^       an  end,  . 

Take  your  ill-got  plunder,  and  bury  tftfl 

What  will  yc  more  of  your  guest  and  sonn 
'  Blood  for  our  blood,'  they  sud. 

He  laugh'd;  'If  one  may  settle  the  score 
I  am  r^dy ;   but  let  ^  reckoBWg  sttod 

I  have  loved  the  sunlight  u  dearly  as  aoy 
'You  shall  die  at  dawo,'  said  tliey.         jj 


HENRY  NEWBOI.T 

r  Uk  gray  link  church  ■crois  tbe  pack, 
mouod*  that  bid  the  lotcd  and  honour'd  dcadi 

atmao  *rcb,  ihc  chancel  to/tJ/  duk, 
bnasn  black  tod  ivd. 

»  ibe  School  CIom,  vmay  ami  gTteo, 
Irunner  bnidc  bini,  the  stand  by   the  pmpel  wall, 
IBant  tape,  and  the  crowd  toaiing  between, 
fmra  oaine  over  all. 

L  the  dnk  wakwcot  aod  limber'd   roof, 
I  loDg  tabin,  and  the  facrs  mciry  and  krcni 
lege  Eight  and  their  traitter  dittSg  alooT, 
Dobs  on  tbe  dils  sercot. 


f. 


tacb'd  tbe  linn's  Mem  giloughing  the  foam, 
lek  her  trembling  speed  aad  ibc  ibraah  of  her  scrrw ; 
■nl  the  {uweogers'  voices  talking  of  bonne, 
Ml*  tbe  6ag  she  flew. 

bw  it  wa»  dawn.     He  rose  strong  on  bis  (ect, 
1  mode  to  hi«  niia'd  camp  below  the  wood ; 

uIl  tbe  bnaih  of  tbe  nMndng  cool  and  twweti 

nonleirre  routtd  him  Rood. 

on  the  Lasp«r  hilb  was  broadcniag  fa«, 
bloodTcd  Miow-peaka  chili'd  to  a  dazzling  wUr; 
I'd,  and  saw  tbe  golden  circle  at  hut, 
the  Eastern  height. 

Life,  Who  dwcllcn  in  earth  and  sun, 
I  praise  and  adore  Tbcc.' 

A  sword  swept, 
pan  the  roicn  one  by  one 

sad  tbe  hill  jlei<. 


ma 


J 


S6t. 


GILBERT  PARKER. 
Rtimited 


Vy/HEN  yoo  and  I  have  play'd   ihe   little  hou^ 

*'        Have   seen   the   tail   subaltern   Life   to  Dcjth 

Yield  up  his  swon'  ■,    and,  smiling,  draw  the  bta 

The  first  long  breath   if  rreedom ;    when  the  flower 

Of  Recompnise  hath  flutter'd  to  our  fret, 

As  to  an  actor's ;    and,   the  curtain  down. 

We  turn  to  face  each  other  all  alone — 

Alone,  we  two,  who  never  yet  did  meet. 

Alone,  and  absolute,  and  free  i     0  then, 

O  then,  most  dear,  how  shall  be  told  die  tale? 
Clasp'd  bands,  press'd  lips,  and  so  dasp'd  hands  i\ 
No   words-      But  as   thf  proud   wind   fills   the  s^ 
My   love  1(1   yours   shall   reach,   then  one  deep  I 
Of  Joy,  and  then  our  iafiniie  Alone. 


I 


WILLIAM  BUTLER  YEATS 

S62  (Vhere  My  Books  go 

ALL   the  words  thai  I   utter, 
And  all   ilie  words   that   I  write, 
Must   ^presd  out   their  wings  sintiring, 

And   ni'ver  rest  in  thi'ir  flight. 
Till  tlicy  come  where  your  sad,  sad  heart  i 

And   sing  to  you   in  the  night. 
Beyond  where  the  waters  are   moving, 
Storm-darken'd  ot  starry  bright. 


WILLIAM  BUTLER  YEATS 


S6s.  ff^ben  Tw  an  Old 

W/^HEN  yiM  art  oM  snd  gny  aad  full  of  tletp 
**       Aad  modeling  bjr  the  Gre,  take  down  Utii  book. 
Arxl  Jnm\y  n»A,  and  dic-un  of  the  tah  look 
Yo«r  eyc«  b*d  odcc,  aad  of  their  aludows  (k«pj 

How  nuniy  loved  your  nunMots  of  gbd  gncr, 
Aod  loved  your  bnnty  whh  lora  &lw  or  met 
But  DM  nu  luTcd  tbe  pil]{nin  Mul  in  you, 

And  lovod  tbe  MiTom  of  your  changing  (mk. 

And  bending  down  bn*d«  (he  glowing  hmi 
MBraur,  ■  Sttle  wdly,  bow  lore  fltxl 
And  pKcd  i^xm  tJw  iwounHJaa  oretiitad, 

And  bid  bb  face  amid  a  crowd  of  sms. 


8<!4.     The  Lake  IsU  «/"  Innisfm 

WILL  arise  aikd  go  aow,  Mid  go  to  Inoislice, 
And  a  small  cabin  buld  there,  of  clay  aad  waitlea  made  i 
Jioe  beaa  row*  will  1  have  there,  a  luve  for  the  hooey  bet, 
And  ItTc  alone  in  tbe  bcc-loud  glade. 

I  »tull  haTc  lonx  peace  Ibcrc,  for  peace  comet  dropping 
flow, 
)R^Dg  ftam  the  teili  of  the  moming  to  wkoe  the  cricket 

siagat 
niidoighi'a  all  a  glimmer,  aad  noon  a  purple  glow, 
And  creDtDg  fiill  of  the  linnet's  wingt. 

will  ariw  aad  go  now,  for  always  night  and  day 
hear  lake  water  lapt«ng  with  lew  souads  by  the  »horci 
I  stand  on  the  roadway,  or  on  tlie  pai-cmefiU  gray, 
1  hear  it  is  the  deep  heart's  cote. 


GvMtK 

If  there  b 
Thy  ha 

Where  I 
I  know 

One  insta 

Stands 

Of  that  1 

To  Tl 

Who,  le; 

Bring'; 
Godlike 

And  1 

The  dep 
Th=  I 

Thou  ki 
Thou 

One  sto 

In  th 

Tf  is  en 


RDDYARD  KIPLING 

Take  not  that  mion  rrain  my  keni 
O,  •KbaiKK'tT  nwy  ^potl  or  f^prrd, 

Help  mc  lo  necil  do  »d  from  men, 
TIkU  1  Ruy  hrip  wch  men  as  dmiII 


Sd/S. 


VEnwt 


THF.RE't  a  whi^*T  down  the  MA  whtre  the  ytar  has 
*       thot  li«  yield 
And  the  ricks  stand  gray  to  the  strn, 
Smtingj— 'Over  llien.   oomc  oirr,    foe  the  bee  has  i|uii 
the  c!o»cr 
And  your  Enjiliah  summn's  (tnne.* 

You  haw  heard  the  ticat  of  the  off-shore  wind 
And  the  thtwh  of  the  derg^-Kn  rain; 
You  bm  heard  the  song — how  long!   how  loeg! 
V\!i\  out  on  the  trail  again  I 

done  with  the  Tents  of  Sbem,  dear  lao, 
b'tc  seen  the  seasons  through, 

it's  lime  to  iwn  on  the  tA\  trait,  oui  a«rn  tnil,  the 
out  trail, 

oat,  pull  out,  on  the   Long  Trsil— the  trail  thai  is 
always  oew. 

t's  North  yon  may  rxm  to  tlw  Hmc-rrngM  sua, 
I  Or  Soath  to  the  blind  Horn's  hate : 
East  alt  the  a-iy  into  Miubup]ii  Bay, 
We«t  to  the  Golden  Gale; 

the  Uicdest  UdFi  hold  good,  dear  bas, 
the  wildest  talcs  are  Inte, 

the  ncfi  bulk  big  on  the  old  trail,  our  own  tnil,  the 
on  trait, 

lifr  rani  brgc  on  the  Loog  TrnI— the  trail  that  is 
always  Ocw 


lit 


RUDYARD  KIPLING 


The  days  are  nek  and  cold,  and  rhe  skies  are  gnj 

And  the  twice-breathed  aire  blow  damp; 
And  I'd  sell  my  tired  soul  for  tfae  bucking  bean 

Of  a  black  Bilbao  tramp  ; 
Wi(.h  her  load-lbe  over  her  hatch,  dear  las%^H 
And  a  druaken  Dago  crew,  ^| 

And  her  nose  held  down  od  the  old  uaH,  our 

the  out  trail, 
From   Cadiz    Bar   on   the   Lon^   Tml — the    tra 
always  new. 

There  be  triple  ways  to  taJce,  of  the  eagle  or  di 
Or  the  way  of  a  man  with  a  maid ; 

But  the  sweetest  way  to  me  i«  a  ship's  upon  thi 
lo  the  heel  of  the  North-East  Trade. 

Can  you  hear  the   crash  on  her  bows,    dear  lass, 

Aiid   ihc  drum  of  tht  racing  scrt-w, 

As  she  ships  it  green  on  the  old  trail,  our  own 
out  trail, 

As  she  lifts  and  'scecds  on  the  Long  Trail— tin 
is  always  new ! 

Si'f  the  shaking  funnels  roar,  with  the  Piter  dt 

And  the  fenders  grind  and  heave. 
And    the    derricks    clack    and    grate,    as    the    tji 

the  crati', 
And  the  fall-rope  whines  through   the   sheave  ; 
It 's   '  Gang-plank  up  and  in,'  dear  lass. 
It's  'Hawsers  warp  her  through!  ' 
And  it's  'AH  clear  aft'  on  the  old   trail,   our 

the  out  trail, 
We're  backing  down  on  the   Long  Trail — the    i 

always  new. 


11 


RUDYARD  KIPLING 


O  the  msofrt  owrskic,  wbcn  the  port-fog  holdb  «s  tied, 

And  the  tirens  hoot  ihrir  dnodl 
Wbcn  Toot  inj  foot  we  crvrp  o'er  tlic  hueless  newlesi  decji 

To  (be  ftob  of  tbe  qucstiag  lead  I 
It's  liava  tij  the  Lower  Hope,  <lear  Um, 
With  tbe  Guofieet  Sands  in  view. 
Till   ibc    Mouse  swinji   green   on  the   old  mil,  oar  own 

trail,  (he  oat  trail, 
And  the  Gull    Light  &ftt  OB  the  Loog  Trail — the  trail 
thu  is  alwiys  ncv. 

O  the  bUzing  tropic  dight,  wheo  the  wake 's  a  welt  of  light 

That  holds  the  hot  sky  taine, 
And  the  Mcady  fore-foot  snores  throcgh  the  {Janet-powdet'd 

Boots 
Where  the  seated  whale  ftukes  in  dame  I 
Her  fUics  ire  scsrr'd  by  the  snn,  dear  lass, 
And  her  ropes  are  taunt  with  tbc  dew, 
For  we're  booming  down  on  the  old  trail,  our  own  trail,  tlie 

out  trail, 
We're  sag^g  aouUi  oo  the  Loog  Trail— the  trail  that  b 

always  new. 

home,  get  her  borne,  where  the  drunken  roOers  cooib^ 
And  the  shouting  teas  drire  by, 

the  cngiiKS  slan^  and   ring,  and  the  wet  bows  reel 
and  awing, 
And  the  Soutbem  Cross  rides  high ! 
(he  oM  Ion  Rars  wheel  bnck,  dear  last, 
It  blaze  in  the  relTct  blur. 
I^cy'rc  all  old  (nends  on  the  old  trul,  our  own  udl,  (he 
out  trail, 

re  God's  own  gtndes  on  tfao   Loa(  Trail — the  iml 
that  is  a!way»  new. 


Fly  forwarii,  O  my  iicart,   from  the  FotcUikI  U 

We're  steaming  all  too  slow, 
And  it's  twenty  thousand  mile  to  our  little  b 

Where  the  trumpet-orciiids  blow ! 
You  have  heaid  the  call  of  the  otT-shore  wind 
And  the  voice  of  the  deep-sea  rain; 
You  have  heard  the  song — how  long !    how  Ic 

Pull  out  on  the  trail  agun? 

The  Lord  knows  what  we  may  find,  dear  lat 
And  the  deuce  knows  what   we  may   do — 
But  we're  back  once  more  on  the  old  trail,  o«» 

the  out  trail, 
We're  down,  hull  down  on  the  Long  Trail — i 

is  always  new.  ^^m 


f(67-  Jiecessiotial 

Juni  22,    iS^J 

f~~*  OD  of  our  fathfrs,  known  of  c 
^-''  Lord  Cjf  our  f.ir*iliing  b.iltlo-li 
lienrath   who*ie  nwfu!   Hand   we   hold 

Dumirion  over  ]j:ilm  and   pine — 
Lord   God   of  Hosts,   be  with   us   ye 
Lest   we   fiirget,    lest  we   forget  1 

The  tumult  and  the  shouiing   dies — 
The  capUiins  and   the  kings  depar 

Still   stands  Thine  ancient   sacrilicc. 
An   humlilf  and  a  conirite   heart. 

Lord  God  of  Hosts,   be  with   us   yc 

Lest   wc  forgtt,   lest   we  forget  I 

I  Hit 


RUDYARD  KIPLING 

Far-<aU*d  our  uviet  nwh  »'**j — 

Oa  dune  and  headland  sink*  the  (itt — 

Lo,  all  our  poni|>  o(  ycMfrdny 
Is  OM  with  NiacTth  aod  Tyn  I 

Judge  of  the  N;itioa3,  spare  us  yet, 

Lta  we  fbrgel,  lesi  we  forget  I 

If,  dnink  with  tight  of  |iawet,  we  loose 
Wild  toog<xs  that  lure  acA  Thee  is  awe — 

Such  bowning  M  the  Ceoule*  u*e 
Or  IciLier  btcrxU  without  the  Law — 

Lord  God  of  Ho»i3,  be  with  u  y«. 

Lest  we  forgn,  lest  we  forget! 

For  bciihi-D  heart  that  put*  her  tniat 
In  rctkb][  tube  and  iron  Hhard — 

All  taKut  dust  thu  builds  oa  dm, 

Afid  goirdtng  calU  not  Tbw  10  guard— 

Fo*  fntotic  boaM  wd  foolish  »-ord, 

Thy  Mercy  on  Thy  People,  Lord  I 

RICHARD  LE  GALLIEMMB 

m.  s^s 

SHE  *s  wnwwberc  b  the  ssligfal  tunof, 
H«f  tr^n  arc  in  the  faUinx  nia. 
She  calh  flw  in  the  wind's  soft  MAf, 
Aod  with  the  Aowms  she  comes  agna. 

Yon  bird  i*  but  her  acswager, 
The  iDooa  i*  but  her  silver  cw) 

Yt>!  HD  awl  roood  are  seat  by  her. 
And  tnif  wistful  waiting  star. 


RICHARD  LE  GAL1 


86p.         The  Second  Crucijtx 

T  OUD  mockers  in  the  roa 

-^     Say  Christ  is  crucified  : 

Twice  pierced  His  gospel-bea 

Twice  broken  His  great  ht 

I  heur,  and  to  myself  I  smile 
For  Christ  nilks  with  me  all 


No  acge]  now  to  roll  the  sio 

From  olT  His  unawakiag  s 

Id  rain  shall  Mary   watch  alo 

In  vain  (he  soldiers  vigil  k 

Yet  while  they  deem  my  Loi 
My  eyes  are  on  Hti  sluning 

Ah !    never  more  shall  Mary 


RICHARD  LE  GALLIE>n4E 

No  raoce  Hilo  ihe  nnbborn  heart 

With  ^entfe  Icoocking  ihall  Hr  plr*d, 

Ko  morv  ifae  myKic  pty  tun. 

For  Chriu  tiricc  dnd  is  dmi  iadcnl. 

So  in  the  Etmet  I  hnr  mtn  uy. 
Y«  Christ  i>  with  mc  all  tlw  diy. 


*70. 


LAURENCE  BINYON 
lavocatkn  to   Tautb 


htH* 


f/^OME  tbni,  n  vtft,  like  tbr  wind  n  norniflg! 
^"^     Joyous,  O  Youth,  ia  the  agM  wotid  Ri>rw 
FiMhceis  to  TmI  the  ewniiies  inwrnl  it, 
Rau,  BtiLTS  Bad  clooiUi  fi^t  uxl  the  Mcred  dew, 
Tltf  strong  sua  ^ioes  kbove  ihrc; 
Thii  atiVQgth,  tlut  radUocc  bnngj 
If  \VtMer  conae  lo  Winter, 
When  shall  nxn  hope  for  Spring? 


f7/.  0  y^or/d*,  if  iW>i/«- 

O  WORLD,  be  nobler,  for  her  <ake! 
If  ihe  bat  knew  ihce  whn  ihon  on, 
What  wron)^  are  borne,  what  deeds  «te  done 
In  tbce,  beneath  thy  dtily  mm, 

Know**  tboH  not  that  ber  tmdcr  hevt 
For  paiit  and  very  «haine  would  break  f 
O  Worid,  be  nobler,  Air  her  sake  I 


'A.  EJ 


S72.  By  the  Margin  of  the  Great  Z> 

■yy/HEN  the  breath  of  twilight  blows  to  flunc  t 

*^      skies, 
All  its  vaporous  sapphire,   riolet  glow  and  si]»er  g 
With  their  niagic  flood  me  through  the  gateway  of  I 
I  am  one  with  the  twilight's  dream. 

When  the  trees  and  skies  and  fields  are  one  tn  dnsi 
Every  heart  of  man  is  rapt  within  the  mother's  h 
Full  of  peace  and  sleep  and  dreams  tn  the  vasty 
I  am  one  with  their  hearts  at  test. 

From  our  immemorial  joys  of  hearth  and  home  a 
Stray'd  away  along  tJie  margin  of  the  unknowo  vt 
All  its  reach  of  soundless  cahn  can  thrill  roe  br 

Word   or  touch  from  the  Iij>s  besidi?. 

Aye,  and  deep  and  deep  and  deeper   let  me   drink  : 
Vmm  the  olden  fountain  more  than  light  or  jieacc  0 
Jjuth   [irini.tval   being  as  o'edills  the   heart   with   aw 
Growing  one  with   its  silent  stream. 


S73. 


The  Great  Breath 


T  T3   edges   fo.im'd  with  amethyst   and   rose, 
■*      Withers  once  more  the  old  blue   flower  1 
There  where  tl:e  ether  like  a  diamond  gloi^S 
lis  pttals  fade  away. 

A   shadowy  tumult   stirs  the  dusky  air ; 
Sparkle  the  delicate  dews,   the  distant   sno.vs 
The  great  deep  thrills — for  through   it   everj-n 
The  breath  of  Beauty  blows, 
1048 


|.li 


'A.  E.' 


I  nw  how  dl  thr  irvmb&ng  Kg^  fust. 
Moulded  to  her  by  dcrp  «nd  deeper  bmtti, 

tNcar'd  to  tbc  bour  when  Uctuty  btv^tha  bcr  lui 
Aad  kaows  hcnelf  b  ilMtli. 
'Sh 


T.  STURGE  MOORE 


jt  'Duet 


In  nr. 


'  pLOWERS  nodding  gtily,  Ktnt 

'       Flnwcn  po»itd,  flowen  for  the  hair, 
Skvpy  flowers,  (lowers  bald  to  «afe        ■' 
■O  pick  mo  MRiel 


'Shell*  with  lip,  or  lootb,  or  blc«lb{|  gctn. 
T«tl-tale  ihdU,  «id  ibelh  that  vtuiper  Cwv, 
Sheik  th»  atantmcr,  blush,  and  jet  ue  duaib— ^* 
■  O  let  me  hear.'  '      '  ' ' 


'Eyes  so  hlack  they  draw  one  lienibliit^  nnr. 
Brown  eyes,  caTcrtis  Soodtd  wkh  a  war, 

Cloudleis  eyes,  btve  eyes  so  wiady  clnf ' 

•O  look  ai  roe!' 

'Eissn  udly  blown  acrots  the  tea, 
Dukling  kisMt,  kiurs  f*ir  aod  £rc«^ 

Bob^-cbeny  k^«e>  'neath  a  tree ' 

'0  pre  nx  oacl' 


^lu  nog  a  king  and  qneen  io  Baliyloo. 


With  bum 

The  Mood  I 
And  dipp'd 
When  the  « 

Till  it  grew 
And  hot  as 

And  drows 
With  moutl 

A  child  an 
Treading  tl 
But  betwee 
Lay,  fell  I 

She  turn'd, 
Aod  saw  ■ 
And  snatc 
With—*  K 

And  Us  ! 
Trembled 

And  ioy, 


I 


FRANCIS  THOMPSON 

For  he  nw  what  ibe  <fid  doc  iw. 
Thai— n  kindled  by  to  owo  fvnttxf— 
The  verge  •hnTcU'd  imrud  iii>iiiiiit<iiinlj  i 


And  wddenty  'tvrixt  h»  h.-iad  aad  hen 
He  koew  the  nrentjr  wnhcr'd  ftan — 
No  flower,  but  twenty  Kkniril'd  ytan. 

'  Wn  sever  soch  thiaj  until  daii  how,' 
Low  (o  lus  hon  he  utd;    'the  flowei 
Of  sleep  brings  vr>kenios  u>  roe, 
And  of  oblitioa  wauarj.' 

*W4s  neter  thit  thing  to  mr,*  be  uid, 

*  Tlwugh  with  brvuM  pO|i|ries  my  Cm  we  red ! 
And  igain  lo  his  own  bcatt  very  low : 

'  O  chUd !   I  loT«,  for  1  lore  and  know  ■, 

*  But  you,  who  love  nor  know  at  all 

Tlw  diverse  dtaaibtn  in   Lore's  gaest-hiU, 
Wlmc  sone  tise  eariy,  few  stt  long: 
In  how  diHerinic  kosUs  hew  the  ihraag 
Hi«  gmu  Penteconal  toogoei 

'Wbo  know  not  love  from  •nnty. 

Nor  tBf  rc|»ited  self  baa  me ; 

A  fail-  fit  gift  is  tius,  meMcm*, 

You  give — this  witbenDg  flower  of  drcttiu. 

■O  fmMy  lickle,  and  fickly  true. 
Do  you  luMw  what  the  dtyt  will  do  u  you  t 
To  yoor  Lorc  and  yM  wliai  the  days  will  Aa, 
O  &iAly  KcUr,  Md  Bdtiy  inef 


FRANCIS  THOMi 

'  You  htn  toted  mc,  Fsir,  three  ■ 
Twill  pass  wnh  the  [ocsiag  of  ay 
But  where  /  go,  your  face  goes 
To  wjsch  ku  I  play  false  to  70a. 

'  I  m  but,  ntf  swt«t,  yoor  foatcr-l 
Knowing  well  whtn  cctuio  j<-tn 
You  rwiish  from  nw  to  ano^ci ; 
Yet  I  knov,  and  Ivtt,  like  the 

'  So,  frankly  fickle,  and  liddy  trae ! 
For  my  brief  life-while  I  take  from 
ThH  token,  lair  and  £t,  thcktris, 
For  me — this  withering  llaw<r  of 


The  slecp-llower  sways  in  the  whot] 
UtATy  vith  dreams  u  tlut  whh 
The  goodly  gnin  and  (he  suo-fliuh'^ 
The  reaper  reaps,  and  Time  the 

I  h.-iDg  'mid  met)  my  oerdleM  liead. 
And  ray  fniit  is  dreams,  as  theirs  it 
The  goodly  men  and  the  tua-baicd 
Time  alkali  nap,  but  after  the  TTajtef 
The  world  shall  ^aa  of  luc,  hk  th 

Love !    love  I    your  flower  of  wither' 
In  ItarM  rhyme  lie*  aafc,  I  deem, 
ShelM/d  and  shut  in  a  nocA  of  rhyi 
From  the  mpct  man,  aixl  his  tea; 

LoTc  I    /  fall  iota  the  claws  of  Tii 
But  hsts  wilhio  a  Icartd  rhyme 
All  that  the  world  of  mc  cstecnis- 
My  wtther*d  drcuDS,  my  wither'^ 
id|a 


ANONYMOUS 

|OT  onto  ut,  O  Lord, 

Not  uaio  ui  tlic  rapture  of  the  day, 
peace  of  night,  or  lore's  <t(vine  sutjiriM^ 
ligh  heart,  high  (fvecfa,  high  deeds  'nid  hooouring  ej«9 1 
rof  at  Tlijr  wofd 

thcic  uc  ukm  away. 

4oi  unto  us,  0  Lord; 

ro  ti)  Lhou  giTesi  the  scorn,  Ux  scourge,  the  scar, 

kIw  of  life,  tbe  loneliness  of  death, 

issiillen^  su&cirac;  of  breath) 

with  Tliy  sword 
tbon  jiiercest  icry  far. 

4ot  unto  us,  0  Lord : 

Jay,  Lord,  but  unlo  her  be  ill  things  given— 
ly  light  and  lite  and  earth  and  sky  be  blasted— 
ut  let  not  all  that  wealth  of  lore  be  wuicd: 

^cc  Hell  aiTard 

piifniCQi  of  her  Haven  1 


KATRfVRINE  TYNAN  HINKSON 

877,  S6cc/>  ant/  Lamis 

ALL  ia  the  April  momiog, 
^^     April  lirt  «"eTe  abroad  i 
Tbe  sheep  whli  their  littk  Unbs 
Pass'd  ne  by  od  the  road. 


The  sheep  with  dirir  little 
Pass'd  me  by  on  (1« 

All  in  an  April  evcaitig 
I  thought  OD  the  Lan^ 

The  lambs  were  weary,  md 
With  i  weak  human  cry, 

I  thought  oa  the  L.-unb  of  G< 
Caicg  meekfy  lo  die. 

Up  in  the  blue,   blue  mouDtaio; 

Dewy  pastures  are  sweet: 
Rest  for  the  little  bodies. 

Rest  for  the  little  fecc 

Rest  for  the  Lamb  of  God 
Up  on  the  hill -top  green, 

Only  a  cross  of  sbime 
Two  stark  crosses  bet  we 

All  in  the  April  evening, 
April  ain  were  abroad  t 


FRANCES  BANNERMAN 

Sut  I  IcMW  when  one  to  long  had  wijud 
In  the  tow  room  at  the  suirviiy's  licisbl, 

TrembliDg  lest  injr  foot  sbodd  be  bdacd, 
Siajtinf,  lighiog  Tor  the  ionji  hoora*  flijtht 
Towtfifa  the  momeiit  of  our  deir  delight. 

I  came  ioio  the  City  when  you  hiird  me 
Satiour,  ind  again  j'our  cbotKo  Lord :  — 

Not  OIK  guening  what  it  wii  th.'it  Fatl'd  me^ 
While  along  the  way  bb  they  adored 
ThoiiModi,  ihoosaitds,  ihouted  in  accord. 

But  thtongh  >U  the  joy  I  ksew^I  onlf — 

How  the  boatel  of  my  hcaft  lay  ban  and  cold, 

Silent  of  its  iMoic,  asd  how  hoely  I 

Ncter,  thoaigh  you  crown  me  with  your  gold, 
Sliall  I  liad  that  little  chamber  a>  of  aid  I 

ALICE  MEYNELL 
r^p.  Rnt^iatcement 

MUST  tKK  thiolc  of  thcc  i   *nd,  tirtd  yet  strong, 
I  rinn  the  love  that  Intlcs  in  all  delight— 

The  lore  of  thee— «nd  io  the  bine  heaten's  height. 
And  in  the  deareu  passage  vS  a  soog. 
Oh,  just  beyond  the  sweetest  ihooghts  that  throtig 

This  btrast,  the  thnnght  of  thcc  waits  hidden  yet  M^l  { 

But  it  must  never,  nercr  come  in  sight ; 
I  muit  stop  short  of  thee  the  whole  diy  long. 

tBnl  when  Jeep  conies  to  close  each  diilicalt  day, 
I    When  nif;hl  pies  pause  to  the  long  watch  I  keep^ 
plnd  all  my  boiids  t  needs  must  loose  apart, 
Must  <loff  my  will  is  rnnKni  bid  swny, — 

With  the  fini  dre^m  that  comes  with  the  finrt  *Ieep 
run,  I  nm,  I  >ra  j^er'd  to  thy  heart. 


AUCE  MEYNELl 

S8o.        The  LaJ/  of  the  LaitJr^^ 

CHE  mlks— the  lad;  of  my  ddjghi- 

^    A  ihepbcrdcM  oi  (hnrp. 

Her  Socks  *re  tliougha.     She  keeps 

She  guards  them  Erocn  ihc  siccf). 
She  feeds  tbm  dd  the  fnpv»,  tid]^  , 

And  fiilds  dwin  id  for  sleep. 

She  roams  nuietnl  hills  ind  bngbt,    - 

Dvk  T^lejr*  safe  sod  deep. 
H«T  dicaou  SK  inoooEot  u  tngbti 

Tlw  dastcst  sun  1017  perp. 
Sbc  mlka — ibe  Udy  of  nty  ilEligk — 

A  shepherdess  of  sheep. 

She  liolds  her  litde  thoughts  In 
Though  j;sy  tbi^  ran  sad  leap. 

She  b  so  circunispca  ud  right) 
She  lias  ber  soul  10  kKp. 

She  walks — die  lady  of  ray  ddigh 
A  shepherdess  of  sheep. 


DORA  SIGERSOM, 

8Bt.  Tnlitnd 

■T^WAS  the  dieam  of  a  God, 

^       And  dte  mould  of  His 
Thai  yoiQ  shook  'neath  His 
That  you  trembled  aad  broke^ 
To  this  bcaodfLj  UaiL 

Here  He  loosed  froni  His  Iimd 
A  brom  Rnnult  of  wtDgs, 


DORA  SIGERSON 

Tilt  ihe  wiad  oo  the  »« 
Bore  the  smage  nelody 
Of  M  idaixl  th«  sings. 

He  made  you  ill  fair, 
You  in  pur}>le  and  gold. 

You  in  Hlier  and  green, 

Till  no  eye  ttui  hn  scm 
Without  loiT  aa  behold. 

I  haie  left  }-ou  behind 

Id  tlie  paiili  of  the  psK, 
With  the  while  breaih  of  flowen, 
With  (he  best  of  Gcd'i  faosn, 
I  luve  left  you  >t  luL 


fSa, 


MARGARET  L.  WOODS 
Genius  Lm'i 


>EACE,  Shrphrcd,  (cacc  I    Wlut  boou  it  sin^ag  oo  \ 

Since  toDg  ago  gracc-ginng  Plxebus  di«l, 
And  all  the  inun  that  loitd  tfae  stnara-bdglit  tide 
the  poetic  mount  with  him  are  gone 
ODd  the  ihorm  of  Styx  and  Acheron, 
In  uscxptortd  realmt  of  oigHl  to  hide. 
The  clouds  that  strew  their  xhxdov-t  lu  and  wide 
ktc  all  of  Hcaicn  tliat  liiit^  Hdicon. 
fet  here,  «hcie  never  i&usc  or  god  did  hauni, 

SliU  may  Mxne  nameless  powei  of  Nature  stray, 
Pleased  with  the  reedy  sireani's  couinial  chanl 

And  pnrple  pomp  of  ilicM  hcood  £cldx  in  M<iy. 
The  titepberds  meet  hiin  wlieir  he  herds  the  kinc, 
iod  careless  piiss  him  by  whose  is  the  gift  diiimc. 
Mm  tm 


ANONYMOUS 

7>ommus  Illuminatk 


IN  the  hour  of  death,  after  this  ftfe'a  whim. 
When  the  1 
And  pain  has  e 
The  lover  of 


rt  beats  low,  and  the  pyrs  Etc) 
lUSted  every  limb — 


Lgrd  shall  trust  in  Hii 


When  the  wQI  I 

And  the  mind  c 

And  a  man  is  u 

The  power  of 


forgotten  the  lifelong  aii 
only  disgrace  its  fame, 
main  of  tiis  own  name — 
le  Loid  shall  fill  this  fraiiK. 


\ 


When  the  last  sij      is  hearcd,  and  the  last  tfar  I 

And  the  coffin  is   waiting   beside  the  bed. 
And   the  widow  and  child  forsake  the  dead — 
The  angel  of  the  Lord  shall  lift  this  head. 

For  even  the  purest  delight  may  pall. 
And  power  must  fail,   and  the  pride   must   fall, 
And  tjie  love  of  the  dearest  friends   grow  small— 
But  the  glory  of  the  Lord  is  all  in  all. 


i 


■ogS 


tX   OF  AUTHORS 


B,  J<-tph.  4JJ. 

t  Iltw,  619. 

le,  Uuk,  461-463. 

I  llcniT,  71 >. 

tkm,  \VilluiD,  769. 

Boum-;,  ii-»9.  5*71, 

S?J-  «;6.  «8S- 

IJlOMU.  80J,  SoO. 
BbSobctt,  iSj,  t)3> 


'^'^in. 


UdrGf 

'  a,  Piucs.  ^;S. 
I,  Anaa  LjeUIu,  47^ 

.,  ICi^,  9. 
WilluR.,  6j 


t  \VilluR<,  61S.  «S9. 


«i9 


hot,  FniKii,  >34. 
fart.  Sir  Joha.  113. 
^IVmm*  LoTcIt,  «6- 

V,  IleiuT  Ckulo,  Bjj, 

At^ni,  411,411. 

L     Anboi     Cliiuiiitibcf, 

L  Laurence.  STo.tji. 
WmiaBi.4S3-49i. 
l)rU(HdSa«ca.gi6-S)i. 
i  WlUkn  LUIe.  S09. 


Bofd,  M«k  KleanAet,  114. 
Brtlon.  Nk^la*.  73,  U  0). 
StiAgm.  Robnt.  831-840. 
Brome,  Alcuadet,  3J4. 
llioolie,  Ijoii.  9t. 
Broome,  Willlaat,  446,  447. 
llrcaiU<,  Emiljr.  7Jj-;jS. 
Brows,  Tboma*  tamri,  79CK 

BrewM,  Williun,  of  TavUtodi, 

>j^A46. 
Brownkis,    EllubMh     lUrrctt, 

«t8-«7- 
Bfovn^,  RobeR.  7tt-73a. 
Burhtofbanwhif^  D^  ol,  41X, 

41B. 
Bonjtui.  Jahn,  j<S6. 
Baini,  Robrti.  ^lfy!.o6. 
BTton,  Lord,  s9;-doi. 

CaUiBM.  Jerc*i>h  Joteph,  638. 
Ouapbcll,  Hhnm^  sSo,  581. 
Cunpteo.  IVnafc  i68-if<i. 
Carew,  Tbomai.  ■  89-19  j. 
Cawj,  Hanty,  444. 448. 
Ckinuai,  Niw,  857. 
Ca/twriglu,  William,  JJO-JJ}. 
Ckapwan,  Georse,  107. 
OulttttMi,  Thnita,  479. 
ChanoK,  GtoMKj,  lo-i  a. 
CUie.  Tokn,  6ii. 
CloBsb,  Anbof  Hdj^,  74t. 
Colerli^  llwlIc7,<43-646. 


[NDEX  OF  AUTHORS 


Coknilgt.  SaMDtl  T«f  lor,  (49- 

Colendge.  Sin,  «6i,  66i> 
Colliot,  Willitm,  4f7-46o. 
Ccacmc,  Williani,  4}!,  431. 
ConiULIe,  Ilcnty,  1 10. 

C«i7,  Willikiu  (j^Aawa),  jit. 

TJ9- 

Coiloa,  Cbulf^  39A. 
Cowlcjf,  Abnbaoi,  ti^-Jf}. 
CowMr,  wniiam,  470,  47(. 
Crabbc  G«a<ve,  480-481. 
Crubtw.  Kufaid,  i!fi-H>. 
Canni^ii^hlni,  AIlu.  gll9-S9t> 
CunBiii);baiBe-<^li>lkMi,   Robert, 

oi  Ganinixv,  469, 
Ciill*,Lo(4,4*l. 

DukL  Sunid,  iii-ii^ 
T>ulC7,  Ctargt  6^0-641. 
Dmnui^  SlrWillun,  joi-^oj. 
]>i<i.(aaB,  Johs,  Sfo,  Bjt. 
DiTifi,  Sir  Joba,  tSi. 
I>iTtM>n,  I',  tr  W:  (f),  64. 
IVkkct,  Thorny  104. 
De  VtiT,  Anbray,  731,  733. 
De  Vtfe,  Sir  Aabrej,  toi. 
Dobell.  Svduv,  7$(-768. 
Dobwa,  ADitin,S)4-«*6. 
Donne,  Tohn,  I9f-Kl. 
I>oiKl,  Kail  of,  40S. 
I>i«jton,  MkliirJ,  tii^iM. 
Dnmtnoail,  Wllluni,  o(  Ilair- 

tbomtlcn,  it4->ji. 
Di;<i«n,  Jolui,  308-404. 

Dun  li*i,  \S' ilium.  18-ai, 
DTJriey,  Thomo,  395. 

Kdvifilo,  Richard,  it. 
Klliot,  Ebcne«r.  587,  j88. 
Elliot,  Jwr,  4**- 
EDMrKm,  Ralph  W»  Ido,^^-*;  1 . 
HbtKgt,  Sir  G«oigc,  4»4,  401, 

Nto 


Fanihawe,  Sir  Rii 

l-'er|[;UMa,!>i(Sal 
I'lltGcrald.  l^w. 
Flaiiiiu,  Th 
Flcicbcr,  cad,  1. 
FWlcber,    J  oho, 

»»7-ii7. 
rhcdMr,  fill 
Fori,  John,  Jij. 
Foi,  (jcorj^  J." 

CmcoIi^if,  G«ori 
CaT.  Joiha,  43J*. 
GoldnDUb,  Olifi 
Go«c,  Edmund,  I 
Gray,  Tlioaia*,  4j{ 

llrcvlUc,  ; 

CiuaUl,  :..^..^,. 

HaUttgtoai,  W: 
Hane,  Bret,  813. 
II  aim,  SUpl»n, 
IU>kct,  Robot 

HTBttni,  Fell^ 
Httlcy,   Wil 

844- 

I  Untyvoo,  Itobeti 
Itcibett,  GeoTgf, 
Ilcnick,  kobM, 
llcjrwodj,  ToliB  ( 
HqywMd.  Tbea 
Ha&Ma,  KathH 
Honkrc  Tbou 
Hood.  Thoinu,  6 
HogK,  Jamea,  SI 
Hone.  KlcUrd  1 
lloBcblon,  Lord. 
Ho-tUi,  WtUian 
Hsme,  Alcxauiei 
HbiH,  Ldgb,  fi93 
Uydc,  DoBgla^  | 


INDKX  OF  AUTHORS 


King  ^ScntlutdV  ■(. 
SuiimI,4(0.  411. 

biMUH,  335. 


Htnrj  CUkdo,  Sit. 
mry  <Bitliop  of  Cki- 
L,  tj%-i8o. 

«1«^  S7;-571>- 
uy,  sn. 
^■ltvSaT^;c,557'57«i. 

tncril^Md.  IMS,  K<). 

jfcjy  ABM,  477. 

imfMon,  Fcea«i(cK  ,746. 

looM.jif-iaaL 

fan.  47^ 

»,  Htxr  Wadrrortb, 

Rkfc»rt.  34J-J48. 
ftihii,  14- 

I.«kI,  449. 
I"  <■'.  TM.  7W- 

,Urf,«J7. 

id,  C«otn,  770b 

fnatit.ijj. 

Jamm  CUnnoe,  M4. 

Robert,  of  Brnnne,  8. 
Chri«o|ib«r,  III. 

imr.  *9«. 

lLo«4,44(. 


UcrtdlU),  Gtar(v,  771-77^ 
Mnwll,  Alict,  M79,  SSo. 
MUlon,  John,  )07-Ji^ 
MowgeoMrio,  AlcxudcT,  4S. 
MootiOM,  Maiqnii  of,  jjf. 
Mirart,  Tbomu,  jBt-jSj. 
Moon.  T.  Sfrnft,  8:4. 
Uonii.  WlllMin,  Soo-tos, 
Miwdaj,  Aalboof,  87. 


Nkirnt.  Lad;  Cwolina,  si>. 
Nuh«,  ThMui,  164, 1(7. 
N«»balt.  tlcwy,  860. 
Noel,  Rode*  Bt«fcdc7  WrlMbct- 

ley,  803. 804. 
Notton,      CaiollM     £liul>«tk 
Swkb,  A91. 


Otdbaai,  John,  4)9 
Oidp,  \S  illitio.  4,(9. 

0'B«iUr.JotinII»,lcvCll. 
O'ShmnjbncBjr,  Aniiiii  WitUan 

E(lE«r,8]S  8jCL 
Ot»«)r,  TbotDu,  41^ 


TiiKas,  ImIxI.  47s. 
i'aikci,  UiUwtt,  Mi. 
PiumU.  Tbomu,  4J0. 
Puaocc,  CovcDtty,  760-764. 
P«KOck.  TbcMii  Love,  5  g  j-  59}. 
Pc«te;  Geoigr,  101,  loj. 
rtiilip*,  Kktheilnt  {'Uriwte'X 


littpol,  WitlUm,  ;j7, 
oe,  Kdcur  Allin,  694.' 


Pbll 

Poe,  Kdcur  Allin.'&M.<9S. 
Pe>l<T,  AlcKuiiler,  440-44J. 
Pruil,    WinltiK^     MiiAmittk 

Me. 

Pilot,  M4Uliew,  411-41$. 


QbnIm,  Fnacis,  176,  *77. 


1^              ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^1 

INDEX  OP  AUTHORS          V^ 

IUI(%b,  sir  Waller,  Ji-Jt.  t  *i. 

SvrbtMnr,   Ali[«nw«  Cl> 

IUmMT,  AIIm.  4}?. 

Raadotph.  Thonu,  199,  joo. 

•a4>4ii. 

ItMdi.   WUliuB    Ilfithi)r,  7^5, 

75S. 
Rqraoldi^  John,  177. 

^H 

Tarler.  Sl(  Uaiy,  Cj^l 

Kocbtttcf,  KnI  oC,  4'3-4>& 

IVnaTion,  Fndadek,  4lH 

RodoliM,  T.  W.,  849. 

TwBjrwn,  Lord.  Svy-JuW 

RoNcltl,    OkrlXlu    GcMglM, 

TboH,  Williaa,  fijj. 

RoMcHi,  Damn  Gftbri«l,  771. 

ThonpMa.  FrasoU.  87}. 

ThovMoo,  Jmbo,  44S. 
ThooiMa.janiES,  79^  n^ 
Thailow,  Lord,  }Atf. 

Rove,  Htm,  $07.  jtfS. 
KowlMd*,  Kidttrd,  i«5. 

RoAIn,  John,  7^ 

Todbnnter.  joha,  S14.  Ili|. 
Traherae,  Ijumai^  406. 
Tanier,  Cbailet  TaoBTHi^  1 

Soolt,  Aleuadn,  4J,  44. 

Scow,  Sir  Wnlipi,  MI-54S. 

Scott,  WilllfliB  Dell,  7JI. 

ViD^tii,  ilcMrr,  |6i-|At 

Sodley,  Sir  Chvle*.  409.  410, 

Sbaheipetrr.   WlUkn.  f«    (r), 

111-164- 

Waido,  ThoMaa.  6jt. 
Walko,  William  &(U;,«: 

ShcHcj,  T*m7  Rvttlie.  ^S-^'S- 

SliUkr,  UiDci,  tS;,  >H8. 
Sidney,  Sit  PhUip.  SS-95. 
Sieenoo,  Don,  sSi. 

Waller,  Kdmsnd,  304-ii9&. 

Willh.  William.  419. 

Wition.  WilUam,  ^sj-g:*. 

Sk«ltaa,  John,  30,  31. 
Smart,  ChiiKOMwt,  4$(. 
iiaulb,  Alcnnder,  777,' 77^ 

S!*"^^*^  4J4.  4«- 
Watu-Donloo,  IlicodcsKt 

Webbe,  Cbiiln,  40].^^ 

Smollett,  ToUai  Geoin,  464. 
Soaihef,  CaraUae,  pab. 
SoMhtj.  Robert,  gi£. 

WtbOa.  Jntm,  3l8-^H 

Wcfcr,  kolntt,  45.      V^ 
WLilmui.  Wall,  741,  :»> 

Sttultiwcll,  RolNrl,  loS,  109. 

WliiniCT,  loba  GtRslnl,  1 
Wilbw.  (rtwec,  ijA-iM- 

SpeiiNr,  EdMODtl,  79-84. 

Staakr,  TVinuu,  3^ 

Woife,  Chnil.  V  f>oj,  61H. 

Stenntan,  Robert  LouU,  S46- 

Wood*,  MarsBiti  t..  SSi. 

K4S. 

WMdnronk,  WiUiuo,  115 

Still,  John  (BUbop  of  BMh  and 

WoMoQ,  Sir  He»r7,  .js-t 

W«U>),  49, 

Witlt,  Sir  Thomas,  H-fi 

SlMing,  Eailof,  fit. 

Suckling,  Sii  J<jin,  3i$-3iS. 
Sniiey,  £arl  of,  39  41. 

Voti,  WUIbiD  BoU^Hj 

g 

J 

INDEX   OF  FIRST  LINES 


K* 

A  Bo«lc  of  Venn  onr^nnntb  the  Bough         ....  69! 
A  cklld '1  a  pUylbme  far  ID  ho«>  ■        .        .        .        .        .31) 

A  t  Ftettomc  ii  a  noble  lhia|;  I 9 

A  c>nlm  H  *  k^vooma  tbinc.  God  bM  I         .        .        >        .  -j^j 

A  lite  Uik  iwiiien  'lam  ibc  quiet  ikia S4J 

A  pttDlcou*  piKa  )»  Iictvi'J  toi  biitpiUbU  Attt    ,        ,        ,  714 

A  rac,  u  (*i[  •«  cTtc  u>w  ih«  Nocu •4a 

A  il«inb«t  did  my  (pint  mbI 519 

AMubeo'"^!  >itJuUMael 64a 

A  tuany  ihift  <Ud  I  behrold SJ5 

A  twF^i  diHwdct  la  the  dm* >^ 

A  ihottund  nuutTn  I  have  HUtde 41a 

A  weu7  lot  la  tbme,  fiur  maid m6 

Above  foa  MMBbte  «weU  «l  land ifl 

AImsm.  bear  Ikon  my  ptoCotallon        .....  ty) 

AlMcftt  (ion  ibcc,  t  Ungnltb  ullt 413 

Accept,  Ihoa  tluiiN  of  bt  dMd  taint aB* 

Adl«u,fuB<ixnnjUi'*bUN) 1*1 

Ae  tom6  kfaa.  aad  thtn  w«  fm 4OT 

A^  CUoril !  ibal  I  ncnt  could  Wl  .         .....  409 

Ab,  bow  twcci  It  U  to  loTC  I 4<M> 

Ah  t  wcie  abe  pUlM  al  (Im  ii  fittt 104 

Ab,  wbil  anil*  Ika  aoepind  race Sjtt 

Aiily  Hcaooo,  Alitf  Beacoa    ...,,..  739 

Altiii,  bne«^Kar*d;  aBon*  tbca*  plata     .       *       •  aaB 

All  are  not  talcni  tb«a  an  M  bdiiad 660 

AtlhDlTMuacaa  dwell  wiibH tea 

All  in  Uie  April  monunz 877 

All  ii  btm,  tbo*^  wc  m  dovbt 304 

All  mj  pttt  iUt  u  miMC  no  nM«c 414 

All  NatntE  tetutt  at  vcsk.    Slap  le«t«  iWit  Ult   .                 •  5M 

lOtl 


INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINES 


All  "■  over,  ibM;  doM  tfflk  Miud  Uncr 
AHlbc  flawMiottbet^ng  .  .  . 
All  th«  wmli  Am  I  Bttf* 
All  Ihonshti,  all  pn««n,  ill  dellBfaU  . 
All  under  ibe  IntTcs  and  the  tcavei  of  Uft 
Allwl  nnr  wonhr  DMditer  boDonfale  . 
AmanniDa  nrett  Mtd  (sir  . 

Ab  andcM  dxMiiBl'*  bloMOOM  Ikicir 
Ab<I,  like  •  dJ^ng  Itidj  Irw  and  fit      , 
And  will  IkoD  lure  mc  Ibiul 
A«ct),  ktni;  of  itrMaiInc  mom       .         . 
Ai^l  iplnU  of  th«p     .... 

April,  April 

Alt  thou  poor,  jti  bait  iboa  goldm  dttmben 

Ai  docton  {Itr  pli;«:  i/j  wa;  ol  p<«Tei>tlon 

Ai  I  b  hoaiT  winter'*  night    .         . 

A«  I  «rB<  Wliklne  all  alane    .  . 

A*  1<  Mi  nfioa  a  dajr      .... 

Ai  OM  tlut  for  i.  weary  tpaee  hu  tain    . 

A*  IboM  w«  Ioi«  doear,  wo  dk  in  rait    , 

A»  w  rath,  ai  we  nah  in  llw  Traui        . 

At  r>  camo  (nun  the  kolr  Land        .         , 

Aak  me  do  nioce  where  Jore  bealows       , 

Atk  me  why  1  fend  tob  bere ,  , 

Mk  DoC  the  <wu«  ftij  nilka  SpriiiE 

Al  bcr  fair  btutd*  how  have  I  eraoe  enlr^ed 

Atthebul.ttndMljr        .... 

At  the  mid  bnnr  of  nii^t,  wbm  sliri  •>«  wee 

AwiVe,  AMita  Ifre,  awake   . 

Awa*I    Away!      .... 

Awt]',  dc1i)^t*  I  CO  Mek  lotne  other  dwetHng 

Awajl  tbo  moor  11  dark  beneath  the  BOOOQ 


IJacehni  mn«  now  bia  r«wer  redipt         . 
Balow,  my  lia!>n  lie  illll  and  ileepi        . 
Ban)*  of  I'aviin  and  of  Miilh 
Be  it  rigbt  o(  wrnni:,  ihne  men  amovg  . 
BeatiM  Heart )  we  oome  agois 
Beautiful  muit  be  the  mountaias  whence  ye  cone 
Betoiy  zleu  nnd  fair      .... 
Kcuty  ul  boihine  by  a  tf«i*S        .         . 
Heboid  hn,  tingle  In  the  £eld 
Being  yout  ila*^  wkat  ihonld  I  do  bnl  tend 
tn6i 


plBfc 


ay 


INDRX  OP  FIRST  LINES 

Hd. 

:  ud  briffhtm,  cone  aurar Oefi 

!  to  Utc,  and  I  will  live a«6 

r,  blow,  (boa  wuMr  wUd 136 

1  in  ibe  moiBinc,  thon  ifaalt  fade  etc  oooa                        .  399 

le  Kitin«n7  gu3  np  (he  s'***  ••>•••  $>4 

iloircn— tbx  I  Goald  fftUui  It  llln  r«B       ■       •       •  *Tfi 

ilhn  Ibne  the  man  wUh  tool  ao  dMd        ....  S4T 

bt  Star,  ini«lil  I  i>rt«  tltxlfaM  la  Iboa  ait       >        .        .  6ST 

J  me  win«,  but  wine  wbicfa  bcyc*  gtew     ,        .        ,        ,  611 

J,  cnrkw,  ikint;  &ji 43^ 

t  ciM%  acroM  Cubea tS9 

tnoBC  Hcnbc  aat  Anril ■ 


the  jftwet  to  the  knowM 473»9<' 

II  Cor  the  (obln'mUiraail  aod  the  wr9        ....  alt 

m  M  (h«  boKiB  of  thy  Cod  1 <M 

In*  «M  the  4*y,  and  throucb  iW  mnkbUnf  ajm  (i 

OS  a  Sabbalh  nom,  a;  fwert 803 

mc  aatnp.  and  raill  me  w a^s 

Cbttty-ripe,  ripe,  rip*,  I  cty  .        .        .        .        .        ,        .  «ji 

CUoe  '*  a  Nymph  io  Sowcty  grawea wj 

Cbiwtmai  knom  a  merry,  m«rr7  place S^ 

Clak  Skondcn  and  nay  Marsartt 371 

Cold  M  the  eattb— aod  the  deep  oiow  piled  abotc  thee  .        .  736 

Came  away,  come  awiy,  death |J4 

Come,  deai  clilldRn,  lei  ni  away 141 

C«me  dowB,  O  maii^  ftom  yodaa  Booatalm  bright        .  706 

Com*  Into  the  caidea,  Maad TBi 

Came,  let  aa  sow  resoln  at  la«i    ......  417 

Come  little  babe,  eoAt  iDly  aod    ......  74 

Come  lire  with  me  asd  be  any  Lore       .....  lal 

ComoiMn  teitaodad,  to  claim  ......  59* 

Come,  Skep,  tad  with  tbT  iwecf  deeei*la(>     ....  ao^ 

Come,  Steep  i  O  Sleep  I  tftecotalakDot  of  peaoe  .  M 

Cnne,  tpnt  away .  goa 

Come  ihtii,  a*  ettf,  tihe  Ike  wb»d  at  moralngl                .  9}i» 

Come  thoa.  who  ait  lb(  wine  aod  wil     •        •        .        .        .  ■14 

Come  tBtlo  tbaM  yellow  mada lao 

Come,  worthy  Grctkt  U1ynea,oaaM     .  .it* 

Coodcffln'd  to  II<iT«'*deliu)Tc  miae 45t 

Ceodon,  iriie.  my  Corrdnnl  .        .        .        .        .        .57 


■  01} 


m 


Mis 


Day,  like  our  soaii,,! 
Deu  Lord,  receire  < 
Dm  lore,  for  aothU 
Death,  be  not  pioud 
Deep  on  the  ooavenl 
'  Do  you  remembw  t 
I>oei  tb«  road  wind 
Drink  to  me  only  w) 
Drop,  drop,  ilow  tei 

Earth  hai  not  nnythi 
E'en  like  two  little  t 
£nou};h ;  luid  leave 
Even  inch  ii  Time,  ' 
Ever  let  the  Faocy  r 

Fain  wonid  I  changr 
Fair  Amprcl  is  gam 
Fair  and  &ir,  and  ti 
Fair  daifodlli,  we  n 

Fair  U  my  Love  iini 
Fair  pledgee  of  a  fi 
Pair  abip,  that  fcor 
Fair  stood  the  win< 
Falte  thoneh  the  I 
False  world,  good 
Farewell  I  thon  ar 
Feai  no  more  the  ' 
Fine  knaclu  for  U' 
Fint  came  the  pii 
Floveis  nodding 
Fly  caviDui  Time 
Fly  hence,  shadoi 
Follow  a  shadow 
Follow  thy  fsir  s' 

1066 


INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINES 

No. 

WdStaw  j<i*i  (al&l,  follow  irllh  Kc«eti(wcelt                  .        •  171 

7s«Jltti  pntvr,  <rh*(  dott  lUia       ......  |SI 

Fot  ■  Banw  onkpum isf 

f  gr  bcT  nit.  Utte  ba  walkiM        ,..,,.  «43 

Fof  kniflithood  li  not  In  IW  iMti  of  want     >        •        •        .  S" 

KoifccM',  boU  r^th  1  air*  hektvn  here Sg7 

Tend  not  fci  Ihe  tried  inlcnt •  3t 

yn^nlc  to  bulk,  fit  itood  to  wood  t  rin               .        .        •  1 14 

Tmh  Sprlniti  the  herklil  ol  lona  mlEhiy  ktn|[         .        .        •  7$) 

FiofB  hirmiuiT.  from  hmwnl*  barmonjr          ....  999 

Ttom  low  to  nl|[h  doth  lUwolallDD  citmb        ....  $99 

Jfnn  lb*  fomlt  ud  birliUoda ttos 

Tram  ron  hiiw  I  b«<s  uim/l  in  Ibi  ipring     ....  *$1 

Vrcm  yon,  lutW,  tin1«  trenbtn  pan 359 

Full  iaxlum  fl*«  thy  liuhei  tic* 131 

Cnthwre  iMcbodt  wttUc  ye  may   ......  0*9 

GerTp,  etrnp  for  UuBirl    Tbc  UoomIoc  norn    .        .  047 

GtvT  ■  inim  ■  hon«  ha  can  tide      ...,.,  198 

CiTt  all  10  lore M9 

GiTt  lar  niy  Kitinp-thcll  or<]iii<l 7I 

Giie  pM'ton,  bltucil  Mial,  to  lejr  bold  alM    .        .        .        ■  ll« 

Gift  ploce,  TOO  Udica,  and  btgoot  I J3 

Co  aiyl  caitn  a  fatlbif  Mat      .......  196 

Go  letA  to  m«  a  pbil  o'  wise 496 

Ga,ftMtbnrcit1  joD.  ShfphtTd.  fronlkebitl  .        .75' 

CofroMMe.    Ytl  1  fnl  that  I  ibaU  ila»d     ....  681 

CpL  toytly  Rote 30S 

05d  Ltsu*,  ever  yoong at^ 

Godof  owbthett,kRo<»of  old £6] 

Cod  wIm  ctT«tai1  fn« 855 

Goce  were  bat  the  wiain  c«1il 591 

Cod-monow  to  Ibe  day  *o  fidr      ......  atS 

Gnat  B«n  hare  bten  among  oi ;  handi  that  pnu'd        ■        .  jas 

Had  we  but  wotld  mooch,  aed  time HI 

Hail,  btaMtoaa  U'anget  of  the  gi«*c] 4^ 

Hail  holy  liehl,Dfi)irtec  of  HuT^fcm.bom,        .        .        .  jao 

Hail,  tuicr  Hirinn S3T 

JUltothM.bltOKtpMll tee 

IUIIi>ir  th«  IhmboM,  crown  Ihc  po*ttancwl.                 .        .  a* 

Hane,  tuine,  kime,  O  tume  din  wad  lb*.                .        ,  390 

lUppy  ihow  euly  da/*,  when  1 36a 

lUrtct  ah,  theNi2htia(«le    .     -..=■    .»-    ^      *                 •  W 


INDEX  OP  FIRST  Lll 


!t  I 


ntilc  I  kitkl  the  Uik  ■>  hM*w'i  pitB  rinp 

Hark  I     Nov  ettrjlUoK  ft  dilt      . 

Hitlc  I  ibi  anvil'  cTcning  Mn(  . 

Ha  fine  deoeawl ;  ihe  for  »  Ultle  tried  . 

H«  ba«  oonn'd  th«  Iokhi  Bow  , 

Hctte  U  by  Mooal  BOW 

He  IkBt  i*  dowa  Midi  (rai  no  fill  .       , 

He  ttuit  lores  a  nur  cke«k 

He  who  haa  qdm  I>«<b  HpPJ'  >•  far  b;*  . 

Heap  auaia,  *MidBl-bada  abd  Urip«a 

Hear  the  T«ke  of  Ike  Bud 

Hear,  ye  Udiet  tbu  dnpbe    . 

Keln.'ihv  beaMf  !■  M  nta     >  . 

HCBccv  aU  rou  vala  dellebu   . 

Hanor,  bcaA.  wUh  her  tial  mul  depart 

Hood*  loftlbM  HoluctiaJr     .  . 

Rcnce  vain  ddading  joTCt  ■ 

llei  ty<»  the  ctow-wcnn  l»d  tbw  . 

Heie  a  litile  child  1  aland 

Mere  ■  j«et^  babjr  Uc<  .... 

Hcc,  tier  (i»ce  ]i«a  nvnt  aliioad  .        . 

Here  ia  thk  aeciBcater'd  daw .  , 

Htfe  At  li«v  a  pnxtj  bod 

H«7  noaB]'  do  I 

HejT  now  the  daj  diw^  .        . 

HlerntalriD,  tnv  btpyy  home  ■ 
HtEb-kfiliited  (rleod        .... 
Hijibmjr,  tince  you  mj  Ghisf  PaniatMa  be 
Hit  £oldcii  loAt  'Hme  lulh  to  nl**!  Inrii'd 
How  happT  i>  ht  bnra  and  langht  ■ 
How  like  a  Winter  haifa  mjr  abi«Dce  been 
liow  many  lima  do  t  Iqt«  tbce.  6tat  t  , 
How  neu  me  cane  the  baad  of  Dtaili    . 
How  ileep  the  Ware,  who  (ink  to  rot     , 
How  vunly  men  Ihentwlrei  amiue  . 
Hiub  I  laj  iloai,  lie  (till  and  ilcmbcr 
Hfd,  AbMlon,  thr  g^lte  trtaac*  cIcn       . 


I  am  that  which  began  .... 
I  am !  yet  what  I  «ib  wbo  oifM,  or  kaowt  I 
I  ariie  front  dmmt  of  ibee     . 
I  uk  oo  kind  leluo  ot  Ion    .        .        ■ 
I  came  Uilalhe  City  and  none  knew  me. 


INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINES 


Lcumol  <li*ng«  ■*  olbcn  do  ■ 
tManut  Mt  but  Imie  ncil 
I  Mt  Mk  •  kb> 
1  but  1od(  and  Uir*  avhUc 
I  not  cfcooM  ili«(i,  dwnM.    Ii  WM  L»*«  . 
l4««g*te*tlKn'rt  ^MOlti  and  (iir 
|,4d  Ml  tovt  Ibcc !— no  ?  I  do  not  lat«  ibee  I 
k'd  tlut,  •*  1  waddei'd  bjr  lb«  waf 
|,  b«*Mlb  ihe  cypreu  duul« 
1  a  flame  wnhin,  wblcb  to  tannenti  t 
nc  BM  rtwiid  Mm      .... 
Dt  M«  Aowvn  lo  Mnw  Thy  wit         , 
ta  mirtuw.  for  pccfeciium  im«      , 
p  bad  plajmatn,  I  b><w  had  coapaafauit 
[  iDl«nd«d  aa  Ode  .... 
i'bow  a  buk  e*rd«n-tlaM   . 
[  know  a  tbinc  that  '>  moii  osooiDmoa 
b»a«  ay  kpdI  h*ih  powct  to  kno*  all  tUnga 
'  ~L  thee  1u(,  a  ebild  U  hcait 
ng  h>T«  had  a  qaaml  Ml  «(lb  TUne 
I  ioToJ  ■  taM,  ■  (air  odc  . 

I  lo*«<l  ym  aot ;  aad  yvt  »ow  ba  b  e<MW 
I  l«T«d  ibn  ones  i  111  Ion  no  mon 
1  nu^  aaMh«r  gu^,  yt»   . 
I  mtod  mc  In  tbc  dajn  dsparled  . 

I  maMnatthiako/lb«c;  andt  tind  )i«t  WJC^ 
I,  ax  d«ai,  **•  ben  to-day    .  . 

I  fUj'd  with  )wa  'mid  <«w«lif*  blawui|[ 
1  pnv  thee,  lave,  love  me  ao  nore 
1  aald — TbcB,  dened,  met  'll*  to  .        . 
I  uw  (air  (rhiain  walk  aluae.         .        . 
1  «aw  ny  I.ady  wnp       .  .  ,         , 

I  Mw  otd  Aolsmn  in  Um  nluy  nara      > 
I  aaw  wbcrt  ta  At  ibravd  did  Ink 
1 MU  •  riac— a  litUi  bnad      . 

Iitac«(aMidcn 

1  Mmte  witb  Mine,  foe  booc  wat  w«ttb  ay  diite 

1  tell  JOS.  bopcitu  EFlrf  la  paMlenlcB  . 

1  that  tu  belli  wia  ai>d  gladnb* 

I  Ihcaebl  of  Tbea,  my  panait  uid  my  kM* 

1  tboogU  «tta  huw  TbtocrilM  had  bmb 

1  Ibce^t  10  m«t1  BO  man,  so  divuy  Kcn'd 

I  took  By  beait  in  my  hand 


I  mjr  I 
I'd  aakoof  laknowB  i 


No 

*'5 

49 

•S» 

815 

■a* 
69, 

6t« 
S94 

S£ 

8m 

440 

•** 

?g 

8a9 
*79 
«79 
4>S 
5M 
ii« 

T*7 

393 

66 

641 

*4I 
■S 

576 

661 
at 


6m 
5»7 


•o«9 


INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINES 


I  «nMln*d  load;  u  a  doiwl  . 
I  wUI  aiue  wi  «>  >ow,  uiil  co  to  la^fne 
1  will  auke  fo«  momImi  uid  lojn  for  jrour  d«li{ 
I  wlA  1  were  whetc  H«Icii  Uo  . 

I,  wlib  whose  coIoGit  M)>t*  dreit'd  bab«Rd 
Icbot  a  bwric  tn  boure  teifat  .  . 

Ti  ft  i>iMm  lo-alj[hl  .  .  .  • 
r<l  wtd  foB  wiiboot  httihk  wttboat  noaajr  or  rfdl  i 
I'm  nlita'  oo  th<  itilo,  Wuf  .  ,  , 
I'm  wnrin*  •w«',  lobn  .... 
I've  biwd  (hem  ItllJDg  kt  o«r  em*niilkio£ 
If  all  the  world  and  love  wttc  foang 
If  au|{ht  of  eaten  itop.Mpatf  oral  M)i(  . 
If  dokchijp  deed*  mj  udjr  pleaae 
tr  I  had  thoni^t  ibca  cooMU  bare  died  . 
'ir  1  wen  dead,  jrou'd  mnMixatt  tar.  Poo*  Cllllil  1  * 
If  rietiiljr  tcstfel  bardi  decide  .  .  ,  , 
Itlhe  qtrick  i|iUiti  ia  joer  ej*  .... 
If  the  red  A*jtt  Ibiak  he  ttajv  •  •  .  . 
If  there  were  drcaMU  to  (ell  . 
If  thoa  omA  love  b^  let  it  be  lot  luagbl 
If  (ho«  will  eate  thine  beatt  . 
If  to  be  ataenl  weie  to  be 
If  jtM  Ko  mer  dt<ert  and  MMOt^ 
In  a  d(cai-ali;hted  Deccmtvt 
In  a  faaiboui  ctene  ailtpe  whoeu  I  \»j  . 
In  a  ^iet  witcr'd  land,  ■  liail  of  row*  . 
to  a  *alle7  of  tM*  mile*  mind 
In  after  daj^  when  Krann  hiieh 
la  Clemenlina'i  aitlna  nica  .... 
In  eoiac  to  my  naked  bed  ai  cne  Ibat  woalil  have  j 
In  Scaiul  lown.  whcrr  I  wn*  bora  . 
In  toRier  ahen  Ihc  iitiuei  be  tberne 
la  the  hall  ihe  cofba  waiti,  and  the  Idle  armonttt  J 
In  tbehijhUiid*,  In  thcoonntixniacn  . 
In  Ibe  bmn  of  death,  aftt*  tbli  lUe'a  whim 
In  the  hour  of  mj  diitrn*  ,  , 
In  llie  mertr  monih  of  Mijr  . 
In  XinDilB  did  KvbU  Khan  ... 
Into  Ihe  tUicT  nifht  .  .  .  • 
Ieio  tiic  tkiei,  one  lUBiner'i  day  .  , 
1>  It  to  unall  a  Ihlat;  .... 
It  fell  >buut  the  Maitlnmaa  , 
It  fell  in  the  ancient  period*  ... 
1070 


INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINES 


[fril  iMkdijF,  aad  ■ItniMlf  rimwrrrti) 


H«. 

•       *       *  S17 

1i  >•  a  bctulniwcnnlaib  c*)")  ■■^  'iw  .....  flsi 

i.Il  li  ■«  wiclcal  Miimtf .  549 

'*1  It  DM,  Cclu,  In  OBI  [loirtt 403 

t  tilMM  dnih,  Ihat  Kundinw  in  ■  «)>h  .         .         •         •         .  £49 

tJisM  [Muring  likt  ■  In« 1^ 

tbDM  u>  be  UiDught  of  tbu  itia  Buot) SW 

t  to  Ih*  miOm't  duchMr               jol 

I  WW  ■  <!«■■)  ud  k  (nrfbl  Bt(la        .....  95fl 

ll  w«t  a  lo*cr(Ad  bii  liM ,        ,  ijT 

I WM  >'  (or  <HU  rigbtfa'  King        ......  503 

1  WM  oiaajr  aticl  manj  a  i«ar  ((o 6g5 

I  wu  not  Ib  (be  Wlato 651 

t  Mil  lik«  ]\>nt  L-Tdt  ami  cnuaooa  vi ji  I        .        .        ,  ^ 

[  Uie  Winter  "iUt m 

t-tdfii  foam'd  witk  aaxthp*  and  rote         ....  673 

By  Uu'd  me  (rhcn  nv  met         •.*«..  59* 

lAiukiwa.  n>7Jo,  John  .         ......  497 

Know,  Celli.  liiict  Uiob  iin  10  proud 993 

KxaHc*.  ihouffb  to  ytm  coaqMriog  tjrca 404 

^P*-'-  at  t«D,  SrinUn'  the  wine 37a 

La;  a  farlasd  on  m;  hnM      .-....■  aog 

Lean  me.  O  Lots,  aUdi  n«cb«tt  b«l  to  dart        ...  9$ 

Lenten  ft  cout  with  l«ve  to  (o«ac 3 

^IjMc*;*,  lordngs,  both  «Me  *mi  tj^gs        ....  7 

[  me  go  (onh,  aad  ibarc Aq 

^Let  ate  not  10  Ibe  naarrii>cc  of  Inu  mWla        ....  I0a 

I  lb*  Urd  e<  loBdtA  lay .  144 

|1^  M  cliink  aad  ba  Bniy,  ilaDec,  Jolie^  aad  reioicc         .        .  395 

ill  I  I  baow  not  «hu  tbMi  ail 474 

t  JJke  the  Idaliia  aown Mil 

tUk«  lh«c  1  0K«  hara  M^mM  ih«  tea  of  Ufa         ...  47a 

1  Llk*  to  Diana  in  bet  aiinunci  votd         •        .        ,        .        .  103 

'  like  to  the  clear  in  higbot  *|ibeTe loo 

Jm,  qiikal  It  i>  10  lore    .-■.....  44 

Looijca,  tliuu  ait  of  towna  ^  ftr  M       ,         .          ...  19 

J.,(iOi;.«xfCUc(l  Ooe-aad-twtM^       ......  4S0 

\\jA  not  iboa  «q  beaniy't  diwaatog jM 


INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINES 


Lttit,  Icnlclitt,  aad  cqika,  the  iwiiwrMM  btai 

Le«d  nockcn  in  tbc  roMiog  UR«t . 

LoT«  bftde  BM  welcorae :  yci  tn^  Mill  4iew  ba«k 

IjMc  Fiianli  the  roMi  of  mj  h|>«    , 

Lo*a  is  boUMic  lrfdiB|ib  MUe 

Late  ia  ny  bown  lika  a  Im  . 

Lofc  U  ■  ildcneH  full  oT  won 

Lore  l(  ciiowh !  Ibouk  the  Wortd  be  a-wuiiag 

Levc  U  tbe  bM«(a«n  wfcae  ibete  falom 

Love  not  me  foe  toauij  (nee        . 

Love,  thon  ut  abaalole,  ule  Loti 

Lotv  IliT  coumty,  »Ui  It  »cU 

LoT«  wiag'd  Bij  Hopt*  uid  uaclii  me  bow  to  fly 


BDg 


Muie  Kamiltaa'a  M  tU  kir^  poe         . 

Muk  vltcre  the  inwiing  wind  ihoob  jafetin-Iike 

Mnitiil,  the  Ihiogillialdo  aiuin    . 

Maivd  of  nMr*eb.if  1  n>wU  dtaU  bdi«Id 

Mar;  1  I  want  a  tjrie  irttk  oibet  lUtiut*  . 

May  I     Be  thon  ne<e*  caccd  vkh  Uidi  that 

May  1  qutcn  of  bloatoou 

Mc  to  oft  mjr  ^cy  dicw 

Men  i;raw  Me  canld,  nuUi  nc  nalJad  , 

Mvi;  Uunict      ..... 

MahooKbl  I  law  mjr  l>to  tapooti'l  Saiot 

Hitd  ]*  Ibt  paitwe  T*ai.  aoQ  iwcet 

HilUD  t  thou  ihovldx  be  liviac  ti  tliia  bom 

MoK  lore  or  mote  dUdaiu  I  cnre .        . 

Mortalltf.  behold  and  le»t  I   .        . 

Moat  Gloflont  LordofLTfel  thai,  oa  thia  dajr 

Motbcr,  1  cannot  mind  my  wheel  . 

Moibci  of  Hemaa  I  and  Kill  rouUilsl  Uola  I 

Mocb  bnrt  I  iravell'd  In  lb<  nalma  of  goU 

Muiic,  wbtn  loA  niUetdie    ... 

iSy  Uood  ID  led    .       .       ,       . 

U;  Damon  wai  ibe  Gnt  to  wa^  . 

My  dayi  among  (^  Dead  arc  put.        . 

My  dtai  and  onljr  Love,  1  pay 

My  dclifiht  and  thj  deliiiM    . 

My  faint  tjiirtt  was  tiitii^  in  Ibe  Uj^l    . 

My  pirf  on  Ihe  Ma 

My  h«ail  acbca,  and  ■  diowty  muntaieas  patna 

My  beart  U  bigli  aboTi^  my  bo<^  ii  fiill  of 


INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINES 

N». 

>(  U)m  a  tloffliie  Urd l<o 

kapt  up  whrol  brbold Sja 

Ion,  iiih«  look'4  frooi  tbogcblfal  ty<M      .                 •  16] 

a  tiff  aClitt  dotb  ibow  bci  wl(        .        .        .        .  Aj 

I  iticnpbio'd,  thoogb  BMra  vtak  la  Mtrtun    .  13S 

'er  Iht  water  bmdi  drMBiiiii  •        •        •        .        •  797 

.wake  I  petfonn  llie  lail  .,,,.,  j/t 

r  bote  mc  ID  the  lonlbeni  wild          .         .         ,         •  4lf 

U  asblai  lalu)  Ibe  Uftlxt M5 

1o?clr,  link  I'ctfy 4*1 

b  a  jrooait  tliiBC 437 

I  hath  Um  BoralBK  am 9B 

od  6m  amjr 49% 

It  UiM  a  paikM  ledMf  on ^77 

hcM  I*  a  cooDUr 363 

IH  hold  nonal  Urib 030 

in  bath  tay  bnuf,  and  1  hava  kl*    .        .  .SB 

OB,  who  do  BOl  loT«  her 7at 

t  iUtet  Ttcnl IIB 

1  to  itll  Ay  lova ^^ 

iher-baatcB  lail  mon  willjoK  bant  lo  Aore              .  176 

tboMoapfmr       ■■■....  aai 

I  a  for<isn  eoonuy  caaie ......  406 

I  aoul  li  nine 738 

«  pw  to  L«the,  ocithn  twin 6*8 

SI  to  HUB  to  itn  .......  t 

J  Cape  SaiM  VfaiMat  la  the  No>th-w«it  died  anf  730 

n  WM  M*td,  not  a  (oaeml  note      ....  603 

,ikM  IjaaKfam 410 

,  ■BTMOCi'tllltbcMglhtofdaUtllodlMd                   .  054 

iSuLflKl S76 

a  At  almaon  petal,  now  ih«  whlu  ■        .        .        .  703 

Hly  ipdaf  te  leao ata 

tocu  wM  eaaata  .■■•*..  774 

*  alshn  calarp 174 

Wt  at  ihalf  OMiaot'i  nariDw  toon  ....  ggg 


1  faanh*  an  wild  and  lali 
t  BIT  Caistaio  I  o«T  (carTol  trip  U  doait 
f  God  1  «bo*a  llf«  and  d«alh  . 
I  of  (wcil  Mwt,  Hl^tl 


54S 

1*3 
699 


•on 


INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINES 


O  Farth,  Ih  hMTltt  «pe«  her  t7«i . 

O  tj,  aif  Soul  ■    whai  htnei  apan 

O  fi^  MN,  PlcuDrt.  pleauDl-beaned  PlauBre 

O  for  KHM  boiHft  lovtt'i  EfaoM      .        • 

O  for  tbe  mirklir  ink<Blnf  that  uavaod 

O  fiiend !  I  Know  DOt  wbicb  «»y  1  UMt  kiak 

O  codi^a* '  ^tf  IhcBt  nuidra  noMbm^  wnmg 

O  naprr  dunet  I  that  may  (Bbnci 

0  bapfijr  TUIwa  I  1(  tfaon  know'tt  thj  tup 

O  ho«  iBDck  fDOce  dMh  bciciy  bcaaleou  Mcnt 

O,  I  bic  «i]BM  Traa  &r  awajr  . 

O)o]r  of  ctcaltan 

OlMtrMk*,  with  Flora  qnera  I    . 

O  aaaj  a  ilay  hi*c  I  mad*  (ood  al«  b  l)i«  glcn 

O  Maiy,  It  Ibf  win'I««  be     .        . 

O  Maiy,  go  aad  call  Ih*  catlW  ho«M 

O  MnMry,  thoa  fond  4«cciTtT  . 

O  mbnot  iHlae,  wbire  are  joa  rmiDihig  t 

0  mortal  folk,  yon  may  beboM  laA  Me  . 

O  nr  Daik  Roaiken      .... 

O  njr  ddr  iMft,  fotuic  Tenu  iwelt  .        . 

O  mr  I'"'  '■  ''''*  ■  ™>  ^  '°*'    ■         • 

0  MvK  m  thit  I  «M  DiIm  of  beut 

O  ftrieit  I.lebt,  vhicb  ibald  awaf 

O  niiliUci  Ihaa  the  cbmyl  .        . 

O  !*■  fc  lionnit  LmIo;  .  .        . 

O  mw  je  aol  tur  Irnf  .        •        .        . 

O  ting  unto  mj  rooodcU]'      •        • 

O  (l(«p,  my  bab«,  hear  oo4  tbe  rippliRf  wan 

OaoncwbalwHodbctfillwidMcbtl   . 

O  Sorrow! 

O  that  'Iwera  pOMtbl«    .... 

O  lh«  aid  da)i  r 

O  thon,  bj  Natsrt  tanctil       • 
O  Iboa  thai  vatnc'it  npM  tha  wanaf  hair 
O  thon  nndaanm  dangbltf  of  detirva !   . 
O  thon  iriih  dewy  locin,  wbo  lookeit  down 
O  Time  I  wbo  know'ff  a  ItnJcnt  hand  to  Injr 
O,  to  bt  in  Eag\af3       .... 
O  tDtn  awav  iheae  cruel  ejm .        ,         , 
O  waly,  wair,  op  the  bank      ... 
O  wen  m]r  Ijovo  joa  Iliac  bit        .         . 
O  wMeis  wind,  whia  will  tboa  lilow     . 
Owha  will  ahocmf  bonnj  foot  t   •         . 


i^i- 


INDEX  OF  FIRST  LWE3 

No. 

i  what  *  pUe^  l<  !«*«  I •       ■  MA 

>  «b«t  on  til  lhc«,  linlglit-at-inM        .        .        .        •        ,  «3S 

■WchliliMlut  roMt' 851 

i  WtM  Wind,  Iboo  bNsih  of  Aalnsn'i  Uinf;       .       .  «ia 

'd,  ba  BOUfT,  for  her  nlM  I    .....        .  871 

twortd,  Invnjlnilli  lboauttOO]ro"°C       .        ■        •        •  9m» 

I  fM)(c  ftmhe  klko.  be  or  the 10 

'1 70a  plant  Itx  piin  in  my  heart  wiib  jroor  nMfiit  ejc*        .  814 

14'  the  aliu  ih«  wind  can  blaw 4M 

r*1I  the  Sotien  ritln|[  now 7si 

>r  *II  (he  clrlt  Ibftt  arc  10  nnatt 444 

>r  all  th«  lotmcnti.  all  (In  eaiM 439 

Of  N'rlvMi  ukI  the  North 381 

Of  Ncptuns'a  trnpire  let  u  ling 173 

ttm  that  li  10  &)T  and  bright 6 

~,iatlw>tmrnicht sN 

H I  tbaih  of  the  beautlAil  town Mg 

I  how  eomelf  it  i*  aud  bow  icrlring    .        .        *        .        ,  8*S 

I  ■  day— abrik  the  da;  I IA4 

iauair'<lnichl  PrlDO*l*cl&tn|p(«a*.        .        .        .        .  77O 

ta  llnM  tbr  anwroat SDtjp 7* 

~  ~  CI  liile  ibe  rifci  lie     •..,..       <  70Q 

<nt  knee*,  a  aakrd  »«w-hon  Child        ....  4]S 

r  liKk  of  I'alrlck  LyMck'*  boM  I  «t  in  wofml  p^igbt      .  734 

iSaUatb-day 77t 

I  wide  lt*c]  of  a  noaDlaia'a  bead  .....  533 

I  (be  hoU  the  forctooi  Eatt  in  tn    .               .       .  530 

!  UnConanaie 034 

!  weed  U  too  oftcB  pro6uied 6i  j 

r  Icll  bet  that  t  low 4>i 

!  the  tawKKh  cDUKld  men jib 

'^nnwltbUi  late  made  met (43 

I  abide  awaaallnci.    T1io«  art  free       ....  753 

t  of  the  nieht  liai  covert  me 84a 

'     »a  it,  I  ban  lorod 3*6 

llll,  over  dale 1*7 

fAa  Moonlaine 991 

Mbi  tea  o«r  ca-Her*  "enl        >....,  716 


k,  c1o*di,  *<n*  <  and  weleoaw;  day  I         . 

;  away,  wltli  <bc  World,  temng  away . 

n  an  llken'd  beat  to  Hoodi  a«d  Mrnme 
I  rvla'd  nion  Ilclm  Uiea  .... 


^ 
M 


*m 


INDEX  OP  FIRST  LM 


;dii^nfl 


Peue,  Shenhoi],  pracci    What  boob  It 
Perfect  little  bodjr,  witbont  fault  or  ttalu  ob  iliat 

PbdbM.  Bxuel 

Piping  down  the  "Ucyi  wild  - 
Poor  soni.  Ibe  centre  oi  my  dntvi  aath  • 
Fnisc  ii  devotion  til  for  miebly  miftdi  . 
Piay  tint  one  prayer  foi  me  tniit  lb;  closed  li| 
PiDad  Miiaie  ii  In  the  wood  .... 
Proad  word  yon  never  ipokc,  bot  you  will  vp€9 
Pore  strrjuQ,  lit  whose  truupxmt  witc  , 
Pot  join  bad,  duling,  cUiImg,  dulinc  • 

Queen  and  hontieii,  chute  tnd  fair 
Queen  of  f[»Er«ice,  lOTcly  Roie  . 
Qnhcn  Floia  had  o'erfrel  the  firth  , 
Quoth  tongue  ofueilhec  roaid  not  wife   ■ 


Remaiu,  ah  not  ID  youth  Blooel 
Remembet  me  when  1  am  gone  awiy 
Retuin,  relum  1  all  night  my  lamp  ix  biiraniK 
'  Ribc,'  £aid  the  Muter,  '  come  luilo  the  Uaat 
Rabin  Ml  OD  gude  green  hili  . 
Roll  foith,  my  long,  like  tbe  nuhing  tint 
Rorate  coeli  desupetl      .... 
Ro>esJieek'd  Lioia,  come     .... 


INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINES 

iwctbofMa,  udtwkaNTendqnoftlani,       ,       .  bt 

■IIIaMDpiittliMtOkSDnuMr^dAjrl      .       .  .US 

'11  iltcw  on  Ikee  rate  w  ra«  or  UurtI      ....  Sio 

1 1  thn*  ercr  Imw,  lad  be  k>  «hM  tba  bmtc  I  .  .54 

1 1,  wuilnit  In  dMpdf tVT 

h*  brst  ih«  bappy  ptTtMmt         ..«..■  34$ 

he  •Iwrit  lainiiiF  the  uatcoldui  wftj*     .....  316 

I  kll  »w»j  itihrt  At«  «4;(*  'pnng 83 

I  i*  iiDl  (ut  \o  ontwkrd  view 644 

I  knrtt  upon  btr  brolbCT'i  gtrn 79a 

i  p*N*il  awajp  like  idoibIdc  dtw         .       .       .       .       •  a«5 

I  uood  bTMU-bifih  •mli  Ui«  cora 6sa 

»tki  Is  btiutv,  like  ih«  nifhi         .....  6M 

[Wilkt~l)^clt4)r  nfmTikllichI Ha 

lapliantomotdclCcht         ,,,.•.  M 

1 «  qoMQ  of  BoUc  Haian'*  avwt/bag  .       .       •       .  S49 

ho  to  Htam  nocv  IlnvQa  doih  (aim        .               .  ^3 

tS  tomewberc  Id  tbt  (uniwhl  itiong  .....  MB 

■M  lii1<l  aoqWDlUue  b«  focgol 49$ 

tnol  M  loon ;  the  (IgU-«tc4  sigM    .        .        .        <        .  b6i 

la11th>l  Icia  cvnilolMlhce 79S 

iftm  lMW]roui(KeInHihtdl*hoaowudt«Mm]v    .  69 

1 1  DOo  mirore  do  kc  fonr  fciiM 639 

^  tIbm'taaMp,  come  let  •■  kli«  ud  ptit      *                •  "T 

DC  Ui  pndan  IbX  doih  keep sto 

Jig  Intlab*,  M  ironen  do 4T 

litrr,  iwtke  I  doM  BOl  JOQI  ejM  I 61 

p,  ■Ict7<,  bcaalT  br%ht 49O 

1  (be  marigold  an  InTw a44 

1  go  no  MOM  a-ro*ki£ 509 

tf,  O  Kldnl^hi  Honnl 13> 

I  t«t  tbtir  mbIi  wtih  Jraloua  pxla «i8 

a,  (ooni)  the  dsrion,  fiilt  ihc  lifs S4S 

IE,  1b«  iwtet  Sptins.  it  Ibc  jttJt  p1eis*«l  biitg                 ,  tW 

Ickae  uoond,  r  Stycian  let 91  ■ 

af,  0  met,  and  ao  not  riMi      ......  195 

Ifitcer,  bithet  Oecf  yoor  wtafU  pwc* HI 

FSMta  Diiiehttf  ofihe  VnlecofCodl      .....  $31 

tSlill  do  the  tlati  lupin  Ibtii  llKhl SS* 

I  SlUl  kl  my  lynal*  imow,  1  am  dM  doom'd  to  wcat        .        .  137 

|filUl  to  be  nnl,  Mill  to  U  drmt iM 

p  fits  of  paalan  bare  1  IcMwn m 

<  OB  bet  roK*.  rosea 750 

iBaMlme    itiTtatloo  cret  ycoag 4^3 


INDEX  OP  FIRST  LINES. 


S—tr  to  tcBM  fci 

Saniact  Kt  lip  U  caith't  bMom  Ian 

Sbk  Ihau  didat  dovlili  oocel  aod  man^  cprbici 

SKprlwd  bj  J07— unptHcnl  u  th«  Wind 

S«»ll«w,  mf  iMtt,  O  Mflet  mllov 

Smm  uc  Uw  ravj  monoclei  of  Cbc  lipa  . 

S*««l(  tn  Mt  p*otid  o(  thoM  tvo  ejv*    , 

Sa«ct  daTi  M  coot,  M  Ckla.  u  bricfct 

Sweet  EcMv  nMUH  Njmifih  tbti  liv'M  Ml 

Sw«M  ia  bn  BRcn  dell  Uw  Hover  of  ttataty  •!■ 

BiNrtMiiGf  vatewwd«fetBltla«a     < 

ftiNel  Spting,  tboa  tnin'K  Mtb  all  thf  goodly  tnta 

$wcel  wttum  wjod,  wbow  teck  It  ia 

SireeWit  SavUnu.  It  mf  loal  . 

StrlMy  mlk  om  tha  woMn  wtn 


Take,  O  uke  thoM  lip*  away 

TajT  no  looker:  towaid  titjn  berltaco 

TcUiMnMofaraaethat'tl'itIr      . 

T«B  tna  IMI,  SwKi,  I  am  niikind    • 

Tall  BM  aiot  «bai  loo  veil  I  kaow  . 

Tell  OK  where  u  Fiacf  bred . 

Th'  MpMu  of  SptKt  is  a  vaite  of  Ai 

flaok  Ueavnt  thaoWf 

That  time  of  jfcu  than  mkj'tK  In  aw  behold 

Tliu  whlcb  ntt  slender  waM  eoofined    , 

That  trpbjr  ctctt  y«r  .... 

Tile  beautf  and  Uie  life  . 

The  bleuM  UaaaoBl  Ican'd  e«i     . 

Tb*  boat  il  cbit^Dg  at  <rai  long  delay     . 

The  cboBKb  and  orov  to  rooM  ai*  gnw  . 

TIm  ouCiw  lolli  tlie  kaell  oC  puUnc  day 

The  day  begia*  to  dtoop 

The  dafi  an  «ad,  ft  b  the  Holy  tide 

The  ficice  einllinf  woilda,  the  rooiE*  In  ran 

The  loiwaid  yonln  Iltu  wouUl  ip|«ar 

Tkc  jjtorlet  of  out  blood  and  ttala  . 

The  my  tea  and  the  tone  black  land 

Tha  iniitu  veed  vilheiM  quite      . 

Tie  tRetponiirc  nleoce  of  Uie  Uad 

Tlie  ulei  o!  Gmce  I  the  blei  oT  Gieeoo  1 

The  king  %ia  is  DuafctmUne  town .         . 

-n*  Udy  Mary  ViUlera  liet  .        . 

"9» 


INDEX  OP  FIRST  LINES 

No. 

)  bik  mow  W*d  bit  wii'tj  RMi        .....  s»i 

iluiuiditeamt  lIcnldolHMTM'i  Kinj      ...  as* 

I  Imtc*  ue  klln(;  m  *b  I 37S 

I  IIbmi  to  the  mkr  dtD* 13S 

t  loppM  Rm  ta  time  mtj  pow  •{■in        .       .       .       .  toS 

1 1e«wr  iMi  a'  iamncM S<M 

t  nn  of  \kh  Bpricbl ilS 

I  merdMHt,  to  Mcnra  hb  irewwa «*t 

I  ootb'*  Um,  &nt  I -m 

I  —HUM  of  Ibe  ma«nliic  gfcM 1^ 

lNl|htUig*lt,  MMMa«ApiUbriB|*tli    .                          •  ?■ 

t  nln  Kt  carl*  la  W-nigbt To 

I  lad  roM  wfcupcn  ot  panion tji 

I  ri<nn  tK*r  Mole  Fair  Aonia ST* 

!  ring,  »o  worn  ■•  jrov  behold    ......  48> 

;  Rm«  ou  tick  anil  tmiUiic  dM '$5 

s  tcM  aic  quiet  when  ika  wudt  ein  o'er   ....  S^ 

)  woic  wawn,  lh«t  bad  aad  bloooi  ionh  bhogt .       .       .  B9 

lifiKlaM  famameiit  M  Ugh 4S3 

tnlMdowralliaaeaatbwan*.       •       .       .       .       •  lot 

iSlaTdwibUlithaSlMplMidfold StS 

iiun  rietcrndLecin  th«  wMt Ml 

L  litn  lirii^ht  la  Fruc* 989 

I  Ihinlr  «ctb  Kttkt  up  the  nia M9 

;  twtnlinh  jtu  u  wttlnich  patt 47t 

I  wtoe  of  Love  U  wuic 799 

t  wocM  ii  100  nmck  «iih  u ;  late  aod  mc*               .  58S 

td't  frtat  age  bq;uu  anew 607 

I  jcal  '1  al  Iba  t(nDi[ Ill 

I  jvang  bUjr  nooa  U  baania^  knw SOa 

I  too,  BodaM  MmM  naid        ......$•* 

ihatt  BtwbCB  tboawilti  Ifever,  Mw    ,        .        .        .  iSt 

)  ancc  wu  a  nay,  and  the  ta'cd  a«  om  .       <       .        .  43a 

lanlwabUtht:  IbewwahnBght       ....  93f> 

:  be  Moe  of  BeaM^'t  danghlen X* 

I  U  a  nidco  la  b«  fioe iM 

t  ll  a  Lad;  meet  iii<!  kind .1* 

I  b  a  mountain  aad  a  wood  beRvto  m    .        .        .        .  SH 

I  ti  a  eiWaca  whet*  laaih  bnai  Dotooad    ....  04* 

iTbnt  ii  i<n<<  nmic  tim  that  toltw  Wit       ....  70* 

aitrtlaaifcatUaber'awel). 37^ 

:  vu  a  ltm«  wb«a  Dwadow,  (nve^  lad  weatB  <L96 

:  were  thin  nrcat  at  on  a  lt«a gw 

[mete  <rcf«  twa  iUUft  Mt  b  a  hear         .....  81* 


INDEX  OP  FIRST  LINES 


Thm  't  ■  el'dc  Ib  AcIutilM.  AittmdM,  AgliMli 

I'heic'i  a  flbltfift  dawB  ibe  fielu  wheK  ihc  r^ar  Im*  tbot 

Tkld 

Tbtrt  'i  ■  iromMi  like  *  dtw-dioji,  ihc  V  m  pmcr  tluB  il», 

Tk((e^  not  ■  nook  within  thb  hIibI  PkM 

"ncf  «r«  *I1  soae  into  the  world  of  light  I 

Tkef  aie  •unag  on  ibe  thote 

titf  flMframme  thatMinctnaeiUdmeKek 

Tht7  iMia'd,  to  Ibote  wbo  u'  ihem  toect 

Tit;  tliil  hive  power  lo  hurt  lad  alll  da  nonv 

Tbc7  loM  BM,  Hcriclllei,  Ike;  totd  ra«  jou  i>cr«  i]«ad . 

Tbe;  ill  oxii  looking  (or  a  king     . 

TliU  t«  n>sbl«,  thii  m  Dig;hte .  . 

Tiit  liJDder  ftir  I  hard  b«  ttU 

Tltb  li  a  ipr**  Ibt  ESrd  chnig  to    • 

TU*  little  mill,  thtt  Dtrtow  loom  . 

TUt  wtelei't  wtHlhcr  It  wuetli  cold        , 

TboD  an  lo  *U  loit  l«t«  ttic  b«it    . 

Thoa  Mill  unrBTlab'i)  brtdcofquittsoM  . 

Thoo  yonnptt  viigioHjaaebUt  of  tho  il(l«t 

T1iou|fh  bMnty  be  the  aiiik  of  pnito      . 

ThiM  jroui  )be  grew  in  wn  um  ihown . 

Tliro«][h  grief  Md  Ihroogh  daoget  thjr  mbIIc  hatb 

Wf 

Thfoof  n  tbe  black.  nuUng  imokc-tninta 

Tbiow  *vnj  Thy  rod     ...        . 

Thu  the  M«yne  elldeth 

Tb«  when  ihe  iilent  cnte  bvcome*        . 

Th;  botom  It  rniJrirM  with  all  heard    , 

Tbjr  TtuUu  fcrt  now  cannot  go 

Th;  tool  willite  nacb  kjlent  pomp  did  ktcp 


Tiger,  lifter,  bnrninj;  bright 
Time  ii  Ue  T 


'  fentbcc^  IhiAji 

Tu  a  iluti  tight 

To  all  jirB  \xdla  now  at  litnd         .         , 
To  (air  Kidrle'i  tn^ny  lonib  .  . 

Tolivt  wiihinaeavc— it  I*  mo«t  Mod  . 
To  rot,  fair  &iead,  jriu  revn  cu  bt  oM . 
To  mutt  and  lo  material  Ihinsi 
To  m;  true  king  I  offf  I'd  fiee  from  alaia 
To  the  Ocrin  now  I  fly  ,  .  .  . 
To  thoac  whom  death  again  did  wed  . 
Toh!*;,  all  day,  I  rode  upon  the  down  . 
Ti>-ni£hl  ntlted,  the  qncm  of  htana      . 


INDEX  OP  FIRST  LINES 

No. 

^  low,  too  tut  for  jOT    • 7TV 

for  day,  too  iwctt  (or  olfbl 0»9 

■oMoitiiawtln  wiUntcddicaudBnsks.       .  Sia 

u  by  Ml  Huillio  biak 9^ 

[hy  L*TC :  if  ike  be  pMud,  b  ihc  sot  *w«n  I  .        ,  7*4 

l*my  vuc'i  tide    ..>...•  jjA 

rcuaorkCod Wl 

ra  henoe  my  ey«s  majr  grow 360 


rrcnwood  tn*       .......  13$ 

iMe  aod  t^uty  ilty ^1 

«i  bcvch'Uec  UMile  <«  tb<  eieen-tmnl .  .  11a 

thU  nmk  (hade a3» 

I  tbu  Mble  heiic 046 

we,  ulike,  O  priKxIy  Ileul  I        ,        .        .        .  M3 

'  motuUIn 769 

tp  my  loTcrclfin  ilti 6j 

OOnn  brtiig  auraj  I .         ......  H* 

I  ID  J  Totfrc  gh»    ,        .        ,        ,        ,        ,        •4*6 

Ben  'mid  Uooeomt  rtW|»K is* 

•|£kn*'Dly  fiuDo  I        ......  44a 

^Ushli^daBMl «T4 

|B»Balwn Soe 

wela  Tby  balmy  ml 340 

m  not— we  ctiinot  bear 675 

id  aotkioft  «l»dy  Uil  the  ny VTV 

I  bc(  krcadting  ihra'  tbe  oiglu       ....  6s3 

i)m  mue  clenot  ranni)        .....  4S1 

wup,  lad  wtarc  the  woof     .....  454 

lerc,  nor  ilgk,  not  poaa »t^ 

my  wanlott,  fmUe  oyon  m;  Iao*    ....  103 

sc,  oil  yo«  tbM  itM    ......  193 

w  oMrc.  Md  ffwMthn «3 

nakboflKMowl    .  ...       .       .  nsi 

Mleaael  dolMg 04« 

I  now  do  pltloty  ere 333 

MM  u  li  tbe  hiwly  (JjJb 11) 

Wi'd  yc  talk  o'  Uin      ...•,.  6tg 

Wng  gboft,  aloDK  llu  mooallcbl  iLide  »      .*        .  441 


INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINE 


Whil  bird  u>  lingt,  yel  lo  docs  vmtl  I     .        . 

Wbnl  conscience,  say,  u  It  in  ikec  .         . 
What  hnvc  I  done  for  yon        .... 
Whal  ii  your  snbtUDce.  wlienof  uc  700  made 
V/bxl  needs  complmiaLi  ..... 
^'bfll  Dymph  shoald  1  fldmiic  or  CnLSA     ,  • 

Wfint  shoDld  I  Biy  ! 

Wbit  iweel  relief  ibe  tbowen  to  lliinC]r  plants  1 
What  wu  he  doing,  the  );reU  god  Pan    . 
When  by  Zcdi  releDline  the  isuidBte  WM  tcroked  , 
When,  Ccelia,  must  my  old  day  wl        .         . 
Whea  dniiiea  pied  and  violeti  blue.         .        . 
When,  draiesi.  1  bat  think  of  thee.         .  , 

■When  I'calh  to  either  shall  come   .  .         , 

When  I.'elia  oa  the  pi^in  oppeui  ,        .        . 
When  God  at  fine  tande  Moa  ... 

When  I  ajD  dcKd,  my  dearest  .         .  . 

When  I  considei  haw  my  light  a  ipetlt  . 
When  I  h«ve  borne  id  memory  wbal  b»s  tuned 
When  I  hive  hm  thai  ]  may  ccue  la  be 
When  1  iurrey  the  bright         ,         .         .  . 

When  icicles  baog  by  the  >*a11         ,  .         . 

WbeD,  in  disgriiie  wilb  Fortune  BD(1  men'*  eyd 
When  in  the  chronicle  of  wiisled  time     . 
When  Jeuie  comes  with  bei  soft  bicut  . 
Wheo  Letty  hid  icuce  piui'd  hei  Ibiid  gfai  jsi 


INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINES 

^ 

^^H 

1  w«  ■nrsfdlatwUklbtloltcrinetllU    . 

^^H 

^^H 

1 JCM  IK  old  lad  mr  imI  fall  of  tlMp  .       • 

HI  n  dk*  017  Jvfia  coca 

«;  Hm  •  pOIow  oa  •  bed 

^^1 

^      ■ 

!C  tbc  bee  Mciu,  Ibrr«  «uck  1 

^^H 

!•  Ihc  pool*  >ie  bii|tbt  kud  deep      •        •        •        • 

»>s      ^^H 

la  the  MMOM  IkimadM  Me 

^^M 

lh((  «a  Ids'*  diadf  b«o» 

•  t^t  iht  HU  witft  hita  bcAiM  hot  .                       . 

^^M 

^^H 

bv,  0  tplcndld  At|x  tity  *tuia  Mill  a«<Mlia|        . 
hMk  W*  fuiqr  pleaHd    ...... 

It  ii  that,  ihU  daik  Msht       ..... 

%  ■ 

^^^1 

b  Silvia  1    Wtaiidwl 

^^^M 

BTothaba 

.  tafi      ^^M 

^Mr  «MM*  (4  ihrood  me,  <1a  not  hum   . 

^^^^M 

'art  ihou  lilml  1    I>  thy  Iot«  ■  i<Unt        .        . 

^^H 

4ld            ^^^ 

'  dm!  thun  iLidt  thy  lotcly  face  1  0  wby 

^  baviag  Koa  her,  do  1  woo  I 

'I  tie  about  thy  wiiil 

T*» 

•te 

'to  ptie  md  WIS,  fond  loval        .... 

a>7 

,«by  icpuw,  my  pculTC  Mend       .... 

5«S 

TtiiMi  totfl*e  tbel  aa  wbcic  I  bccnn 
[•II  Mj  vol,  bnt  much  ^iinsl  mj  betrt 

•Ol 

¥^ 

lUNkcM  moatke  flo>ci-pioU        .... 

«99 

1  dMp  aCoetiaci 

«t; 

LfconraadMrp^OniocM,  duncBoUi^tbeiktal    . 

93 

:^ 

tliAedb(l,luwd>it« 

iHHfenfannile 

■EUMe]Kt£ulo*criibeM  tlut  Hay 
Wm  tftM  beu  what  Uaa  can  wy     . 

.       so 

IS 

$g  not,  >vet<  empceu  ol  nj  heut   .... 

.      74 

Iw  wakcnctJk  *1  ny  cata 

1 

S 

k  naar  |Mtl-«cile«iM  |can    ..... 

■    St3 

9N 

lAintf  vIniM  lMpp7  Me       .       .       >       .       . 

■     •« 

tweryuBk* o' boMe Docn  ..... 

.    49a 

i*e  Mea  Ercab  t«d  (leen 

•70 

la«c  Mbb'd.' aald  be. '  TC  bav*  itatthUl'd  and  Bade  aa  eeci 
IhUMd*  Md  jr*  Uw  and!      ..... 

«te 

.    sM 

•Ml 

_^ 

INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINI 


Ye  leaniM  s<£len,  whicb  lixM  oftailima 

Ve  lillle  birds  Ibil  dl  luid  itng 

Vc  MarincnorErcland 

Ye* ;  in  Ihe  5<a  of  life  ecisled 

Yet  if  Hit  Msjesty,  our  sovereign  lorf 

Yel  once  more,  O  ye  LniiretE,  Hid  onv 

Yun  aie  u  tulip  seen  lo-^j     . 

Yon  biBVe  hfrolc  oiindl. 

Yon  meaner  Ije^iutiel  of  the  night     ^ 

Von  must  be  sad ;  foi  though  it  b  to  Hnvcn 

Von  promise  hcavcoi  free  from  itiife 

Yeu  spolted  Bnaltei  nrilh  double  tongne  . 

You'll  love  mc  ydl— nnd  I  an  tiiry 

YoQt  beauly,  ripe  »nd  calm  and  freili 

Vont  tym  two  wol  ilec  me  todtnJ} 


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