On seeing her smile repeated in he… A thousand songs I might have mad… Of You, and only You; A thousand thousand tongues of fir… That trembled down a golden wire

By W—ll—m C—wp—r. ’Tis evening. See with its resort… Rude Carfax teems, and waistcoats… With too-familiar elbow, swell the… Vortiginous. The boating man retu…

Senex. Saye, cushat, callynge fro… What ayles thee soe to pyne? Thy carefulle heart shall cease to… When dayes be fyne And greene thynges twyne:

After W. M. P. Dear Kitty, At length the term’s ending; I 'm in for my Schools in a week; And the time that at present I’m…

By Sir W. S. St. Giles’s street is fair and wi… St. Giles’s street is long; But long or wide, may naught abide Therein of guile or wrong;

’Tis pretty to be in Ballinderry, ’Tis pretty to be in Ballindoon, But ’tis prettier far in County K… Coortin’ under the bran’ new moon, Aroon, Aroon!

Adown the torturing mile of street I mark him come and go, Thread in and out with tireless fe… The crossings to and fro; A soul that treads without retreat

To commemorate the virtue of Homo… Love, that in a tear was drown’d, Lives revived by a tear. Stella heard them mourn around Love that in a tear was drown’d,

O waly, waly, my bonnie crew Gin ye maun bumpit be! And waly, waly, my Stroke sae tru… Ye leuk unpleasauntlie! O hae ye suppit the sad sherrie

All night a fountain pleads, Telling her beads, Her tinkling beads monotonous 'nea… And where she springs atween, Two statues lean—

A month ago Lysander pray’d To Jove, to Cupid, and to Venus, That he might die if he betray’d A single vow that pass’d between u… Ah, careless gods, to hear so ill

By A. C. S. The Centuries kiss and commingle, Cling, clasp, and are knit in a ch… No cycle but scorns to be single, No two but demur to be twain,

After T. I. As I laye a-dreamynge, a-dreamyng… O softlye moaned the dove to her m… And meseemed unto my syghte Came rydynge many a knyghte

I. VASHTI’S SONG Over the rim of the Moor, And under the starry sky, Two men came to my door And rested them thereby.

I. THE SOLDIER (Roumanian) When winter trees bestrew the path… Still to the twig a leaf or twain Will cling and weep, not Winter’s…