The birds against the April wind The bush that has most briars and bitter fruit The curfew tolls the knell of parting day The daughter of a king, how should I know?. The destiny, minister general The earth goes on, the earth glittering in gold The feathered spugster Chanticleer The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices The gods be your terror. The harp that once through Tara's halls The king is full of grace and fair regard The king is kind; and well we know The Lord descended from above The merry world did on a day The minstrels played their Christmas tune 153 BYRON The old man said, "Take thou this shield, my son" The night is made for cooling shade. The night is passed and shines the sun The old mayor climbed the belfry tower WHITTIER There are points from which we can command our life P. BAILEY The recluse hermit ofttimes more doth know. There is a history in all men's lives There is a mystery in the soul of state TENNYSON DONNE PROF. WILSON (Trans.)' SHAKSPEARE SHAKSPEARE A. H. CLOUGH, MRS. HOWE. WORDSWORTH GOWER BYRON BYRON WORDSWORTH ADDISON BYRON TENNYSON COWLEY 20 517 31 269 497 27 173 3-5 WHITTIER 231 The spirits I have raised abandon me The wintry west extends his blast They made her a grave too cold and damp Think we King Harry strong. This army led by a delicate and tender prince'. This castle hath a pleasant seat; the air Thou blossom bright with autumn dew Thou hast learned the woes of all the world Thou that hast a daughter Thou that hast given so much to me. Thou wast not born for death, immortal bird!" Thou whose sweet youth and early hopes enhance. Three score o' nobles rade up the king's ha' Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back. Tis night, and the landscape is lovely no more. 'Tis not every day that I 'Tis not in battles that from youth we train "Tis truth, although this truth's a star To be furious To beguile the time To be no more sad cure To be or not to be, that is the question To fair Fidele's grassy tomb To heroism and holiness Toiling in the naked fields To keep the lamp alive To me men are for what they are Toll for the brave. COWPER 463 To the belfry one by one, went the ringers from the sun MRS. BROWNING. 404 SCOTT 449 True bard and simple, -as the race Triumphal arch, that fill'st the sky 'Twas All-Souls' eve, and Surrey's heart beat high Two voices are there; one is of the sea When biting Boreas, fell and doure When first thou didst entice to thee my heart When I a verse shall make When I consider how my light is spent When I do count the clock that tells the time When I love as some have told When Love with unconfined wings When Music, heavenly maid, was young. When spring to woods and wastes around When the radiant morn of creation broke When with the virgin morning thou dost rise. Where have ye been, ye ill woman?. Where is Timarchus gone? Where like a pillow on a bed Where the bee sucks, there suck I Where the remote Bermudas ride Which I wish to remark. While from the purpling east departs While malice, Pope, denies thy page Whither midst falling dew. Who counts himself as nobly born Who can divine what impulses from God Who is the happy warrior Who is the honest man Whose are the gilded tents that crowd the way. Whoso him bethoft Why fearest thou the outward foe Willie stands in his stable door. Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day Within my ears resounds that ancient song Within the mind strong fancies work With joys unknown, with sadness unconfessed. Ye banks and braes of bonnie Doon Ye scattered birds that faintly sing MILTON COWPER BYRON 457 512 Ye sigh not when the sun his course fulfilled Your grace shall pardon me Yet do I fear thy nature. Yet once more, O ye laurels, and once more You lay a wreath on murdered Lincoln's bier You meaner beauties of the night Young Jamie lo'ed me weel, and he sought me for his bride Young Neuka plunged into the deep You that can look through Heaven, and tell the stars BEAUMONT AND FLETCher. LADY ANNE LINDSAY Zekle crep' up quite unbeknown LOWELL 383 378 207 135 494 |