Yonder’s the man with his life in… Legs on the march for whatever the… Or to the slaughter, or to the mai… Getting the dole of a dog for pay. Laurels he clasps in the words ‘du…

Grey with all honours of age! but… As dawn when the drowsy farm-yard… Tender to tearfulness—childlike, a… Here beats true English blood ric… ground.

Sword in length a reaping-hook ama… Harald sheared his field, blood up… ‘Mid the swathes of slain, First at moonrise drank. Thereof hunger, as for meats the k…

Spirit of Russia, now has come The day when thou canst not be dum… Around thee foams the torrent tide… Above thee its fell fountain, Pri… The senseless rock awaits thy word

At last we parley: we so strangely… In such a close communion! It bef… About the sounding of the Matin—b… And lo! her place was vacant, and… Of loneliness was round me. Then…

Men the Angels eyed; And here they were wild waves, And there as marsh descried; Men the Angels eyed, And liked the picture best

1—I In middle age an evil thing Befell Archduchess Anne: She looked outside her wedding-rin… Upon a princely man.

O nightingale! how hast thou learn… The note of the nested dove? While under thy bower the fern han… And no cloud hovers above! Rich July has many a sky

On my darling’s bosom Has dropped a living rosy bud, Fair as brilliant Hesper Against the brimming flood. She handles him,

A fountain of our sweetest, quick… In fellowship abounding, here subs… And never passage of a cloud on wi… To gladden blue forgets him; near…

Cistercians might crack their side… With laughter, and exemption get, At sight of heroes clasping brides… And hearing—O the horn! the horn! The horn of their obstructive debt…

When the Head of Bran Was firm on British shoulders, God made a man! Cried all beholders. Steel could not resist

Whate’er I be, old England is my… So there’s my answer to the judges… I’m nothing of a fox, nor of a lam… I don’t know how to bleat nor how… I’m for the nation!

Joy is fleet, Sorrow slow. Love, so sweet, Sorrow will sow. Love, that has flown

Pitch here the tent, while the old… By the old hedge—side we’ll halt a… It’s nigh my last above the daisie… My next leaf’ll be man’s blank pag… Yes, my old girl! and it’s no use…