PAGE
CHILLIANWALLAH, 1
Chillianwallah, Chillianwallah!
THE DOE: A FRAGMENT, 3
And—‘Yonder look! yoho! yoho!
BEAUTY ROHTRAUT, 9
What is the name of King Ringang’s daughter?
THE OLIVE BRANCH, 11
A dove flew with an Olive Branch;
SONG, 16
Love within the lover’s breast
THE WILD ROSE AND THE SNOWDROP, 17
The Snowdrop is the prophet of the flowers;
THE DEATH OF WINTER, 19
When April with her wild blue eye
SONG, 21
The moon is alone in the sky
JOHN LACKLAND, 21
A wicked man is bad enough on earth;
THE SLEEPING CITY, 22
A Princess in the eastern tale
THE POETRY OF CHAUCER, 27
Grey with all honours of age! but fresh-featured and
ruddy
THE POETRY OF SPENSER, 27
Lakes where the sunsheen is mystic with splendour and
softness;
THE POETRY OF SHAKESPEARE, 28
Picture some Isle smiling green ’mid the white-foaming
ocean;—
THE POETRY OF MILTON, 28
Like to some deep-chested organ whose grand inspiration,
THE POETRY OF SOUTHEY, 29
Keen as an eagle whose flight towards the dim empyréan
THE POETRY OF COLERIDGE, 29
A brook glancing under green leaves, self-delighting,
exulting,
THE POETRY OF SHELLEY, 30
See’st thou a Skylark whose glistening winglets ascending
THE POETRY OF WORDSWORTH, 30
A breath of the mountains, fresh born in the regions
majestic,
THE POETRY OF KEATS, 31
The song of a nightingale sent thro’ a slumbrous valley,
VIOLETS, 31
Violets, shy violets!
ANGELIC LOVE, 32
Angelic love that stoops with heavenly lips
TWILIGHT MUSIC, 34
Know you the low pervading breeze
REQUIEM, 36
Where faces are hueless, where eyelids are dewless,
THE FLOWER OF THE RUINS, 37
Take thy lute and sing
THE RAPE OF AURORA, 40
Never, O never,
SOUTH-WEST WIND IN THE WOODLAND, 42
The silence of preluded song—
WILL O’ THE WISP, 46
Follow me, follow me,
SONG, 49
Fair and false! No dawn will greet
SONG, 50
Two wedded lovers watched the rising moon,
SONG, 51
I cannot lose thee for a day,
DAPHNE, 52
Musing on the fate of Daphne,
LONDON BY LAMPLIGHT, 68
There stands a singer in the street,
SONG, 73
Under boughs of breathing May,
PASTORALS, 74
How sweet on sunny afternoons,
TO A SKYLARK, 74
O skylark! I see thee and call thee joy!
SONG—SPRING, 85
When buds of palm do burst and spread
SONG—AUTUMN, 85
When nuts behind the hazel-leaf
SORROWS AND JOYS, 86
Bury thy sorrows, and they shall rise
SONG, 88
The Flower unfolds its dawning cup,
SONG, 89
Thou to me art such a spring
ANTIGONE, 90
The buried voice bespake Antigone.
‘SWATHED ROUND IN MIST AND CROWN’D WITH CLOUD,’ 92
SONG, 93
No, no, the falling blossom is no sign
THE TWO BLACKBIRDS, 94
A Blackbird in a wicker cage,
JULY, 96
Blue July, bright July,
SONG, 98
I would I were the drop of rain
SONG, 99
Come to me in any shape!
THE SHIPWRECK OF IDOMENEUS, 100
Swept from his fleet upon that fatal night
THE LONGEST DAY, 112
On yonder hills soft twilight dwells
TO ROBIN REDBREAST, 114
Merrily ’mid the faded leaves,
SONG, 115
The daisy now is out upon the green;
SUNRISE, 117
The clouds are withdrawn
PICTURES OF THE RHINE, 120
The spirit of Romance dies not to those
TO A NIGHTINGALE, 123
O nightingale! how hast thou learnt
INVITATION TO THE COUNTRY, 124
Now ’tis Spring on wood and wold,
THE SWEET O’ THE YEAR, 126
Now the frog, all lean and weak,
AUTUMN EVEN-SONG, 128
The long cloud edged with streaming grey
THE SONG OF COURTESY, 129
When Sir Gawain was led to his bridal-bed,
THE THREE MAIDENS, 131
There were three maidens met on the highway;
OVER THE HILLS, 132
The old hound wags his shaggy tail,
JUGGLING JERRY, 134
Pitch here the tent, while the old horse grazes:
THE CROWN OF LOVE, 139
O might I load my arms with thee,
THE HEAD OF BRAN THE BLEST, 141
When the Head of Bran
THE MEETING, 145
The old coach-road through a common of furze,
THE BEGGAR’S SOLILOQUY, 146
Now, this, to my notion, is pleasant cheer,
BY THE ROSANNA TO F. M., 151
The old grey Alp has caught the cloud,
PHANTASY, 152
Within a Temple of the Toes,
THE OLD CHARTIST, 158
Whate’er I be, old England is my dam!
SONG, 163
Should thy love die;
TO ALEX. SMITH, THE ‘GLASGOW POET,’ 164
Not vainly doth the earnest voice of man
GRANDFATHER BRIDGEMAN, 165
‘Heigh, boys!’ cried Grandfather Bridgeman, ‘it’s time
before dinner to-day.’
THE PROMISE IN DISTURBANCE, 180
How low when angels fall their black descent,
MODERN LOVE, 181
I. By this he knew she wept with waking eyes:
II. It ended, and the morrow brought the task.
III. This was the woman; what now of the man?
IV. All other joys of life he strove to warm,
V. A message from her set his brain aflame.
VI. It chanced his lips did meet her forehead
cool.
VII. She issues radiant from her dressing-room,
VIII. Yet it was plain she struggled, and that salt
IX. He felt the wild beast in him betweenwhiles
X. But where began the change; and what’s my
crime?
XI. Out in the yellow meadows, where the bee
XII. Not solely that the Future she destroys,
XIII. ‘I play for Seasons; not Eternities!’
XIV. What soul would bargain for a cure that
brings
XV. I think she sleeps: it must be sleep, when
low
XVI. In our old shipwrecked days there was an
hour,
XVII. At dinner, she is hostess, I am host.
XVIII. Here Jack and Tom are paired with Moll and
Meg.
XIX. No state is enviable. To the luck alone
XX. I am not of those miserable males
XXI. We three are on the cedar-shadowed lawn;
XXII. What may the woman labour to confess?
XXIII. ’Tis Christmas weather, and a country house
XXIV. The misery is greater, as I live!
XXV. You like not that French novel? Tell me why.
XXVI. Love ere he bleeds, an eagle in high skies,
XXVII. Distraction is the panacea, Sir!
XXVIII. I must be flattered. The imperious
XXIX. Am I failing? For no longer can I cast
XXX. What are we first? First, animals; and next
XXXI. This golden head has wit in it. I live
XXXII. Full faith I have she holds that rarest gift
XXXIII. ‘In Paris, at the Louvre, there have I seen
XXXIV. Madam would speak with me. So, now it comes:
XXXV. It is no vulgar nature I have wived.
XXXVI. My Lady unto Madam makes her bow.
XXXVII. Along the garden terrace, under which
XXXVIII. Give to imagination some pure light
XXXIX. She yields: my Lady in her noblest mood
XL. I bade my Lady think what she might mean.
XLI. How many a thing which we cast to the ground,
XLII. I am to follow her. There is much grace
XLIII. Mark where the pressing wind shoots
javelin-like
XLIV. They say, that Pity in Love’s service dwells,
XLV. It is the season of the sweet wild rose,
XLVI. At last we parley: we so strangely dumb
XLVII. We saw the swallows gathering in the sky,
XLVIII. Their sense is with their senses all mixed
in,
XLIX. He found her by the ocean’s moaning verge,
L. Thus piteously Love closed what he begat:
THE PATRIOT ENGINEER, 231
‘Sirs! may I shake your hands?
CASSANDRA, 236
Captive on a foreign shore,
THE YOUNG USURPER, 240
On my darling’s bosom
MARGARET’S BRIDAL EVE, 241
The old grey mother she thrummed on her knee:
MARIAN, 248
She can be as wise as we,
BY MORNING TWILIGHT, 249
Night, like a dying mother,
UNKNOWN FAIR FACES, 249
Though I am faithful to my loves lived through,
SHEMSELNIHAR, 250
O my lover! the night like a broad smooth wave
A ROAR THROUGH THE TALL TWIN ELM-TREES, 252
A roar thro’ the tall twin elm-trees
WHEN I WOULD IMAGE, 252
When I would image her features,
THE SPIRIT OF SHAKESPEARE, 253
Thy greatest knew thee, Mother Earth; unsoured
CONTINUED, 253
How smiles he at a generation ranked
ODE TO THE SPIRIT OF EARTH IN AUTUMN, 254
Fair Mother Earth lay on her back last night,
MARTIN’S PUZZLE, 261
There she goes up the street with her book in her hand,