Oh holy Sabbath bells, Ye have a pleasant voice! Through all the land your music sw… And man with one commandment tells To rest and to rejoice.

Filled with his words of truth and… Her heart will break or cry: A woman’s cry bursts forth in migh… Of loving agony. ‘Blessed the womb, thee, Lord, th…

Methinks I see thee, lying straig… Silent and darkling, in thy earthy… The mighty strength in which I tr… The long arms lying careless of ki… On thy tall form I see the night-…

The thousand streets of London gr… Repel all country sights; But bar not winds upon their way, Nor quench the scent of new-mown h… In depth of summer nights.

Oh how oft I wake and find I have been forgetting thee! I am never from thy mind: Thou it is that wakest me.

A fresh young voice that sings to… So often many a simple thing, Should surely not unanswered be By all that I can sing. Dear voice, be happy every way

Lost the little one roams about, Pathway or shelter none can find; Blinking stars are coming out; No one is moving but the wind; It is no use to cry or shout,

They all were looking for a king To slay their foes, and lift them… Thou cam’st a little baby thing That made a woman cry. O son of man, to right my lot

They come to thee, the halt, the m… The devil-torn, the sick, the sore… Thy heart their well of life they… Thine ear their open door. Ah, who can tell the joy in Pales…

From Schiller ‘Which of you, knight or squire, w… Plunge into yonder gulf? A golden beaker I fling in it-the… The black mouth swallows it like a…

They say that lonely sorrows do no… More gently, I think, sorrows tog… A new one joins the funeral glidin… With less of jar than when it brea… Grief swages grief, and joy doth j…

My Lily snatches not my gift; Glad is she to be fed, But to her mouth she will not lift The piece of broken bread, Till on my lips, unerring, swift,

Up cam the tide wi’ a burst and a… And back gaed the stanes wi’ a whu… The king’s son walkit i’ the eveni… To hear the sea murmur and murr. Straucht ower the water slade frae…

Who lights the fire-that forth so… And freely frolicketh the fairy sm… Some pretty one who never felt the… Glad girl, or maiden more sedate t… Pedant it cannot, villain cannot b…

I.-THIS SIDE AN’ THAT. The rich man sat in his father’s s… Purple an’ linen, an’ a’thing fine… The puir man lay at his yett i’ th… Sairs an’ tatters, an’ weary pine!