O, MY Spirit, art thou vanquisht… Is thy latest prospect gone? Must my task be thus relinquisht Ere my noble end is won? Must I die, and be remember’d

THRICE ‘Iö Pæan!’ let me cry, And bless the hour that I was bor… And born thro’ love in vain to sig… To cheer my longing heart a morn Has risen in my ebon sky,

‘I HATE outlandish things, and o… I’ve little liking for the sonnet; ’Tis for a lazy Muse, and one Who hath a bumler in her bonnet. ‘Tis a humdrum song, and tho’ not…

‘SWEET Billy Taylor went to sea… Bravo, my metre ballad-monger! ‘With silver buckles on his knee!’ Another stave—a little longer! ‘When he comes back he’ll marry me…

AH, be not vain. In yon flower-be… As rare a pearl, did I appear, As ever grew in ocean shell, To dangle at a Helen’s ear. So was I till a cruel blast

THE baleful era of King Gold has… And men disgusted with the part th… From out the temple of their heart… The idols that debased the souls t… Man yet hath passions and the caus…

AH! a lovely jewel was Mary of C… And now she is cold in the clay, We think of the heart-cheering ima… As we pass down the old waggon way… Her air was a magical air, and the…

“GET UP!” the caller calls, “Ge… And in the dead of night, To win the bairns their bite and s… I rise a weary wight. My flannel dudden donn’d, thrice o…

My heart is away with the lad of… And never can I to another be tie… Not, not to be titled a lord’s wed… Could Jinny abandon the lad of Be… He dances so clever, he whistles s…

O, COULD I a garland braid, That would never, never fade, I would crown the modest maid Queen of earth’s joy-giving band! Poor or wealthy, dark or fair,

“I JEALOUS? Pooh!—Doth not… Pursue his vessel o’er the billows… No, jealous, no!—From whence thos… —'Tis but the wind among the willo… “Ha, jealous, ha!—Did darling spe…

SHE snapt her fingers, on her hee… Her sweet boot-heel, she turned an… What did I feel?—What could I fe… At what of paradise had reft me? I swooning lay; my soul away

(The first two lines are old.) HEY Robin, jolly Robin, Tell me how thy lady doth? Is she laughing, is she sobbing Is she gay, or grave, or both?

THO’ many a moon had roll’d away Since Essex at the block had died… The Queen upon her night-couch la… And o’er his end horrific sighed. “Oh Essex, oh! my joy and woe