Day is dying! Float, O song,

Dead, is he? What's that further than a word,
Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die,

Do ye hear the children weeping, O my brothers,

Do you see nothing?
Down dropped the breeze, the sails dropped down, S. T. Coleridge,

see,

Forth from a rugged arch, in the dusk below,
Freed from the ice are river and hill,

Hail to the chief who in triumph advances !
Hail to thee, blithe Spirit!

Half of a gold ring bright,

Half-past three in the morning,

Hath the night lost a gem, the regal night?
"He did well."-" And sayest thou so?"
"Hear me!"

Far up
the lengthened lake were spied,
Farewell, life! my senses swim,
For I dipt into the future, far as human eye could
::

..

I come from haunts of coot and hern,
I do confess that I have wished to give,

I had a message to send her,

I have wandered far to-day,

..

..

Go, then! and see them rising with the sun,
Gold! gold! gold! gold!
"Good morrow, my lord!" in the sky alone,
Great men have been among us; hands that penned,
Green fields of England! whereso'er,
Green little vaulter in the sunny grass,

..

..

..

High is our calling, friend! Creative art,
Ho! ye who in the noble work,
Hollow is the oak beside the sunny waters

drooping,

How lovely is the heaven of this night,

..

Bennett,.

Rogers,

Tennyson,
Buchanan,

38

:::

361

460

72

165

33

464

50

432

125

489

355
284

217

374

196

463

234
289

376

390

68

282

178

77
80
487

297

276

34

455
272

344
170

INDEX OF FIRST LINES.

I know not that the men of old,

I remember,

..

I saw a soul beside the clay it wore,

I walked in the joyous morning,

I will not have the mad Clytie,
In Clementina's artless mien,
In haste, ..
In this dim world of clouding cares,

In this lone open glade I lie,

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan,
Indestructible souls among men,
It is a beauteous evening, calm and free,
It is a place where poets crowned, .
It is not to be thought of that the flood,
It is the hour when from the boughs,

..

It lies before me there, and my own breath,
It was St. Mary's Eve, and all poured forth,
It waved not through an Eastern sky,

Its gay farewell to hospitable eaves,

Knowest thou the land where the pale citron blows, Martin, ..

Last night a vision was dispelled,
Lessons sweet of spring returning,
List! a low and moaning sound,
Little Ellie sits alone, ..

Lo! where the heath with withering brake,
Lochiel, Lochiel! beware of the day,
Long lay the ocean paths from men concealed,
Long on the deep the mists of morning lay,

..

Many a green isle needs must be,
Midnight, and yet no eye,
Mild splendour of the various-vested night!
Milton! thou shouldst be living at this hour,
Mine home is but a blackened heap,
Most sweet it is with unuplifted eyes,
My days among the dead are passed,
My fairest child, I have no song to give you,
My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains,
My pretty, budding, breathing flower,

Music, when soft voices die,

..

Near a small village in the West,

Never, oh! never more,

No cloud, no relique of the sunken day,
Nobly, nobly Cape St. Vincent to the north-west

died away,

Lord Houghton,
Shelley,
Lord Lytton,
Cross,
Hood,
Landor,
Earl of Derby,
Massey,
Arnold,

S. T. Coleridge,
Hunt,
Wordsworth,

E. B. Browning,
Wordsworth,
Lord Byron,
Hunt,
Rogers,
Hemans,
Lord Lytton,

..

..

..

..

..

..

Gray,

Rev. J. Keble,

Prof. Wilson,

E. B. Browning,
Crabbe,
Campbell,
Montgomery,
Rogers,

..

..

XXV

Praed,
Hemans,

S. T. Coleridge,

R. Browning, ..

204

397

274

155

196

260

407

419

124

486

Shelley,
Southey,
S. T. Coleridge,
Wordsworth,
Landon,
Wordsworth,
Southey,
Rev. C. Kingsley, 248
Keats,
235
338

249
494
425

Praed,
Shelley,

396

157

293

17
128

214
490

41

488
92
215

362

177

270

291

171
241
477

45

145

105

304

358

341

179

133

66

O beautiful moon! O beautiful moon! again,

O bitter sea, tumultuous sea,

O blithe new-comer! I have heard,

O cradle, whence the suns ascend, old Ocean divine, Archbp. Trench,
O happy rosebud, blooming,
O listen, listen, ladies gay
!

"O Mary, go and call the cattle home,"

O rise, and sit in soft attire!

O sweet south wind!

..

..

Sole star that glitterest in the crimson west,

Still o'er the wilderness,

Sweet lamp! my moth-like muse has burnt its

wings,
Swiftly walk over the western wave,

Bennett,
Massey,

Allingham,

Gray,
Morris,
Wordsworth,

S. T. Coleridge,

Sir W. Scott,

Campbell,
Prof. Wilson,
B. W. Procter,
Morris,

Pibroch of Donnil Dhu,

Sir W. Scott,

Poets are all who love-who feel-great truths, .. Philip J. Bailey,
Put forth thy leaf, thou lofty plane,

Clough,

C. Rossetti,
Sir W. Scott,

370

Rev. C. Kingsley, 247.
Aird,

I

B. W. Procter,..
Keats,

R. Browning,
Joanna Baillie,
Aytoun, ..
Montgomery,
Shelley,

Shelley,
Shelley,

Archbp. Trench,
Southey,.

37

295

7

168

317

497

::

471

368

Rev. C. Kingsley, 244

R. Browning,

347

230

137

381

100

481

35I

323

64

32

308

406

387

Tennyson,

470

Rev. C. Kingsley, 246
Hood,

198
473

423

399

316

458

395

398

INDEX OF FIRST LINES.

Tax not the royal saint with vain expense,
That day of wrath, that dreadful day,
That good, which does itself not know,
The convent bells are ringing,

The lake, like her, heaves gently,

The lark has sung his carol in the sky,
The little comer's coming,

The mighty sun had just gone down,

The morning dawned full darkly,

The mountain wooded to the peak, the lawns,.

The murmur of the mourning ghost,

The night is past, and shines the sun,

The rain and the wind ceased, and the sky,
The sea! the sea! the open sea!
The second night, when the new moon set,
The snowdrop, and then the violet,
The soul of man is larger than the sky,
The splendour falls on castle walls,
The splendours of the firmament of time,
The storm-bent towers that many an age,
The water plashed, the water played,
The western waves of ebbing day,
The wild-winged creature, clad in gore,
The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Then having reached a bridge, that overarched,
Then next a fair Eve-Fay made meek address,
Then Prometheus gave wisdom,

..

Thou see'st her pictured with her shining hair,
Thrice blessed is the man with whom,
Till Hymen brought his love-delighted hour,
'Tis midnight! On the mountains brown,
'Tis morn, and never did a lovelier day,
'Tis not the gray hawk's flight,
To the amber east, the happy merle,
'Twas when the spinning-room was here,

Underneath the growing grass,
Upstood the hoar, unconscious walls,

..

There came a man, making his hasty moan,
There is a stream (I name not its name, lest in-
quisitive tourist),

There is yon house that holds the parish poor,

There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
Thine, Autumn, is unwelcome lore,

This file of infants; some that never breathed,
This morning, when the earth and sky,

66

This, or on this;-Bring home with thee this
shield,"

Wordsworth,
Sir W. Scott,
Patmore,
Lord Byron,
Beddoes,..

Rogers,
Aird,
Lockhart,

Aytoun,
Tennyson,
Dobell,
Lord Byron,

R. Browning,
B. W. Procter,
Hogg,
Shelley,
H. Coleridge,
Tennyson,

Shelley,
Sterling,
Martin,

..

..

C. Rossetti,

Dobell,

Sir W. Scott,

B. W. Procter,
Wordsworth,
Wordsworth, 1.
Hood,
Shelley,

Hunt,

Clough,

Crabbe,

Wordsworth,
Archbp. Trench,
Wordsworth,
Moore,

Archbp. Trench,
Hemans,
Hood,
Campbell,
Lord Byron,

Hunt,
Motherwell,
Smith,
Allingham,

xxvii

494

373.

332

90

34

359

5
261

20

452
163
86

67

348

187

403

121

460

410

427

290

378

353

491

486

200

401

212

117

144

502

474
485

315

476

174

193
108
84

207

325
4II
9

366
162

Waken, lords and ladies gay !

We are what suns, and winds, and waters make us,
Welcome, pale Primrose! starting up between,
What is it that disturbs you?

What is it to grow old?

What made my heart at Newstead fullest swell?
What was't awakened first the untried ear,
When Fancy's exhalations rise,

When first thou camest, gentle, shy, and fond,
Where are the swallows fled?
Where the harebells are ringing,

Wilt thou forget the happy hours,

Winter is cold-hearted,

With fingers weary and worn,

With ships the sea was sprinkled far and nigh,
Within a thick and spreading hawthorn bush,
"Within yon world-wide cirque of war,"

..

Yes-she is ours-a home-returning bark,
Yes! there are real mourners-I have seen,

S. T. Coleridge,
Landon,..

135

255

385

256

II2

437

16

15

122

202

329

346

35

406

366

190

493
114
336

99
149