IT WAS a tale of passion that we… Of two who loved, not happily, but… And evermore her gentle breast did… Like a twin-billow,—for her feelin… Upon its rhythmic grief—and brimmi…

MY OWN WILD BURNS! these ru… In golden worth are like the unsha… Of some new realm, yet pure as fro… And Art may well be spared with s… As dims the bullion to improve the…

I hear thee, echo! And I start to… With a strange shock, as from amon… Thy voice, reverbering in swift mu… Dies down the stream, or with its… Blends whisperingly, until my boso…

I stand in thought beside my fathe… The grave of one who, in his old a… Too late perhaps, since he endured… Of corporal anguish, sweating bloo… But not an hour too soon—no, not a…

“’TIS nine o’clock:—to bed!” crie… Who with his youthful household (f… Long since) inhabited a lonely hom… In the Australian wilderness, tha… As with an unshorn fleece of gloom…

Behold an Indian isle, reposed Upon the deep’s enamoured breast, Even like a royal bride, be-rosed With passion in her happy rest. Or, when the morn is there disclos…

Yet do not thou forsake me now, Poesy, with Peace-together! Ere this last disastrous blow Did lay my struggling fortunes low… In love unworn have we not borne

WHEN Deborah the prophetess rule… And Sisera died under Jael’s fier… His mother looked forth at the clo… When the roar of the war died in s… And she cried, “Still his charrio…

Could we as mortals but our end fo… How little in our minds the world… Could we as spirits but this life… And be again incarnate as we were, How little might be done like what…

A MAN of sorrows and with grief… He bowed His beauteous head to th… Of Pilate’s hireling bands; And while beneath their cruel scou… Forgave them, yearning through Hi…

With a resplendent Eastern bride, Like a houri at my side, And music round us swelling, ’Mid odours of so rare a steam That like a breath of love they se…

STANDING alone, a study in its… How Shakespeare’s volume glorifie… For thence his spirit forth on min… Like a great morning on the hills… Sphered in the light of his creati…

HIS MIND alone is kingly who (t… But venerates of present things or… What he believeth good, kneeling t… Save God and Truth! Who awed not… And shadowy scheme of Life, but a…

When a simple English maiden, Nested warm in Wilmicote, Sang forth like a lark uprising Heavenward with its morning note, Did no English ear that listened,

Mine heart is heavy with an ancien… My brain is aching with a clinging… And if I seek to smooth away the… It plougheth in my Soul, in the r… And balminess of Song—the cheat i…