WHICH of the Angels sang so wel… That the approving Archon of the… Cried, “Come up hither!” and he,… Carried a note out of the choral s… Whereat that cherub to whom choice…

Dear Friend, methinks when thus t… Speaks from yon pale default that… The hale and stalwart by thy couch… Such fond intoleration to be whole As he, who, where the storms of ba…

‘Ho, Sailor of the sea! How’s my boy—my boy?’ ‘What’s your boy’s name, good wife… And in what good ship sailed he?’ ‘My boy John—

NOR force nor fraud shall sunder… Who north or south, on east or wes… Native to noble sounds, say truth… Freedom for freedom, love for love… For God; O ye who in eternal yout…

I’m leaning where you loved to lea… The sun has sunk an hour ago behin… In this old oriel that we loved ho… Gazing, gazing, up the vale of gre… The summer corn is in the ear, tho…

The murmur of the mourning ghost That keeps the shadowy kine, ‘O Keith of Ravelston, The sorrows of thy line!’ Ravelston, Ravelston,

Over that breathing waste of frien… The wounded and the dying, hour by… In will a thousand, yet but one in… He labours thro’ the red and groan… The fearful moorland where the myr…

There came to me softly a small wi… And it lifted a curl as it passed… But I sang sorrow and ho the heav… And I sang heigho and well-away! Again there came softly a small wi…

SISTER Simplicitie, Sing, sing a song to me, Sing me to sleep. Some legend low and long, Slow as the summer song

And as I mused on all we call our… And (in the words their passionate… Expressing this late world for whi… And prayed) said, lifting up my he… ‘Ne quibus diis immortalibus,’-one

Fire away, fire away, boys must ha… There’ll be hard work yet Before sunset: But what of the day when the boys… When the boys have played, why the…

The murmur of the mourning ghost That keeps the shadowy kine, “Oh, Keith of Ravelston, The sorrows of thy line!” Ravelston, Ravelston,

Doctor. Ah! thou, too, Sad Alighieri, like a waning moon Setting in storm behind a grove of… Balder. Yes, the great Florentin… And thrust it into hell, and drew…

‘Thou canst not wish to live,’ the… He clutched him, as a soul thrust… Clings to the ledge of Heaven! 'W… Poor branchless trunk?' ‘But she… Upon her breast; oh, let me live!’…

FIRST came the primrose, On the bank high, Like a maiden looking forth From the window of a tower When the battle rolls below,