His beauty bore no token, No sign our gladness shook; With tender strength unbroken The hand of Life he took: But the summer flowers were fallin…

(from the French of Wenceslas, Du… I cannot tell, of twain beneath th… Which one in grief the other goes… Narcissus, who to end the pain he… Died of the love that could not he…

She is a lady fair and wise, Her heart her counsel keeps, And well she knows of time that fl… And tide that onward sweeps; But still she sits with restless e…

With sanguine looks And rolling walk Among the rooks He loved to stalk, While on the land

Effingham, Grenville, Raleigh, D… Here’s to the bold and free! Benbow, Collingwood, Byron, Blak… Hail to the Kings of the Sea! Admirals all, for England’s sake,

Whisper it not that late in years Sorrow shall fade and the world be… Life be freed of tremor and tears, Heads be wiser and hearts be light… Ah! but the dream that all endears…

O Saint whose thousand shrines ou… And our eyes loved thy lamp’s eter… Dim earthly radiance of the Unkno… Hope of the darkness, light of the… Far off, far off and faint, O gli…

Down thy valleys, Ireland, Irelan… Down thy valleys green and sad, Still thy spirit wanders wailing, Wanders wailing, wanders mad. Long ago that anguish took thee,

The Squire sat propped in a pillo… His eyes were alive and clear of c… But well he knew that the hour was… To bid good-bye to his ancient hom… He looked on garden, wood, and hil…

Boys, are ye calling a toast to-ni… (Hear what the sea-wind saith) Fill for a bumper strong and brigh… And here’s to Admiral Death! He’s sailed in a hundred builds o’…

Past seven o’clock: time to be gon… Twelfth-night’s over and dawn shiv… A hasty cut of the loaf, a steamin… Down to the door, and there is Co… Ruddy of cheek is John and bright…

This is the Chapel: here, my son, Your father thought the thoughts o… And heard the words that one by on… The touch of Life has turn’d to t… Here in a day that is not far,

Mother, with unbowed head Hear thou across the sea The farewell of the dead, The dead who died for thee. Greet them again with tender words…

(After Horace) Let others praise, as fancy wills, Berlin beneath her trees, Or Rome upon her seven hills, Or Venice by her seas;