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In the meantime, every attempt to awaken attention to these neglected treasures seems deserving of encouragement. The Publishers of this little volume are hopeful, therefore, that, in bringing together in an accessible form the whole of Shakspere's Songs and the best part of his Sonnets, in enriching them with the graceful adornments of Mr. Gilbert's pencil, and in presenting them with all the advantages of choice type and paper, they are doing becoming homage to the Great Poet, and an acceptable service to his world-spread readers.

H. S.

LUDGATE HILL,

November, 1862.

CONTENTS.

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---Lo, here the gentle lark

When I do count the clock that tells the time

Fear no more the heat o'th' sun

No longer mourn for me when I am dead

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Bid me discourse, I will enchant thine ear;

Or like a fairy trip upon the green ;
Or like a nymph with long dishevell’d hair,

Dance on the sands, and yet no footing seen.
Love is a spirit all compact of fire,
Not gross to sink, but light, and will aspire.

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