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The white reflection of the sloop's great sail,
The winds behind me in the thicket sigh,
The winds that once the Argo bore,
The winest of the wise,
The woman was old and ragged and gray,.
The works my calling cloth propose, .
The world goes up and the world goes down,
The world is still deceived with ornament,
The world is too much with us; late and soon,
The wretch condemned with life to part,
The Yankee boy, before he's sent to school,
They are all gone into the world of light,
They come ! ihe merry summer months of beauty, song,

and towers,
The years have linings just as gobiets do :
They sat and combed their beautiful hair,
They seemed to those who saw them meet,
They sin who tell us love can die, ..
They told me in my earlier years, .
They wait all day unseen by us, infelt;
They whose hearts are whole and strong.
Think not some knowledge rests with thee alone,
Think not your duty done when, sad and tearful,
This chill, so lovely and cherub-like,
This circulating principle of life,
This is Goethe, with a forehead,
This is that hill of awe, .
This is where the roses grew,
This man whose homely face you look upon,
This name of mine the sun may steal away,
This only grant me, that my means may lie, .
This sweet child that hath climbed upon my knee,
This tempest sweeps the Atlantic! - Nevasink,
Those evening bells ! those evening bells !
Those we love truly never die,
" Thou and I!".
Thou art not dead : thou art not gone to dust
Thou art, O God! the life and light, .
Thou art with me, here, upon the banks,
Thou, Bavaria's brown-eyed daughter, .
Thou blossom bright with Autum dew,
Thou dear, misunderstool, maligned Delay,
Thou tirst, best friend that heaven assigus below,
Though absent long, .
Though Reason thronigh Faith's mysteries see,
Thought is deeper than all speech,
Though wronged, not harsh my answer!
Though you should come again to-morrow,
Thou goest : to what distant place,
Thou hast's worn by thy God, my Jeanie,
Thou knowest, O my Father! Why should I,
Thou ling'ring star, with less’ning ray,.
Thou lone companion of the spectred night,
Thou mightier than Manoal's son,
Thou shalt have sun and shower from heaven above,
Thou unrelenting Past !
Thou whose birth on earth,
Three tishers went sailing away to the West,
Three, only three, my darling.
Three poets in three distant ages born,
Three roses, wan as moonlighi and weighed down,
Three weeks toulay lad old Doctor Drollhead,
Through her forced, abnermal quiet,
Through love to light! Oh, wonderful the way,
Through the dark path, o'er which I tread,
Thus doth beauty dwell,
Thus is it over aủ the earth!.
Thy bright brief day knew no decline -

E. D. Proctor,
C. F. Bates,
Lord Houghton,
R. Southey,
E. Cook,
M. 11. Dodge,
Sir 11. Taylor,
H. A. Butler,
Bret Harte,
Stoddard, .
G. Houghton,
('ourley, :
J. B. O' Reilly,
B. Taylor,
B. Taylor, :
Bryant, :
Iord sicorth,
Couley, :
(ranch, .
S. T. Coleridge,
J. (. R. Dorr,
Tupper, .
T. B. Alarichi
Moir, .

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710 39 823 486 678 718 651 207 627

R9 731 179 19.5

2 664 616 539 73

321 276 204

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7 273 381

49 6R0 826 851 060 136 827 107

91 484 433 74 11 500 524 164

Tiger ! Tiger! burning bright, Tiit the slow daylight pale, Time, hath, my lord, a wallet at his back, Time, in advance, behind him hides his wings, Tincture or syrup, lotion, drop, or pill, . Tired of play? tired of play!: 'Tis a fearful night in the winter time, "Tis all a great show, . 'Tis a story told by Kalidasa, "Tis greatly wise to talk with our past hours; 'Tis not stringing rhymes together, "Tis said that when the nightingale, "Tis self whereby we suffer, "Tis sweet to hear a brook, 'tis sweet, 'Tis the part of a coward to brood, 'Tis time this heart should be unmoved, Titan! to whose immortal eyes, To be, or not to be, that is the question, To-day the sunshine freely showers, To him who, in the love of Nature holds, Toiling across the Mer de Glace, Toil on! toil on! ye ephemeral train, Too late I stayed – forgive the crimeTo learning's second seats we now proceed, Toll, tower and minster, toll, To Love in my heart, I exclaimed, 't' ther morning, To miry places me the hunters drive, To-morrow has trouble to lend,. To Thee, fair Freedom, I retire, Touch us gently, Time, . To you, my purse, and to none other wight, Tread lightly, she is near, . Tread softly! bow the headTriumphal arch, that fill'st the sky, True wit is nature to advantage dressed, 'Twas at the royai feast, for Persia won, 'Twas August, and the tierce sun overhead, "Twas in June's bright and glowing prime, 'Twas May! the spring with magic bloom, 'Twas the last tight at Fredericksburg, Two angels, one of Life and one of Death, Two children, in two neiglıbor villages, Two liands upon the breast, Two honest tradesmen meeting in the strand, Two maidens listening to the sea Two travellers of conceited cast, Tying her bonnet under her chin,

707 605 319 498

E. Young,
l'ery, :
E. Young,
S.T. Coleridge,
T. B. Aldrich,
Sigourney, :
Spencer, .
H, H. Brounell,
Shenstone, .
B. W. Procter,
0. Wilde,
C. B. Southey,
Dryden, ,
M. Arnold,
Gassarray, .
H. W. Löngfellow,
S. M. B. Piatt,
Landor, :
J. G. Whittier,

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Under the coffin-lid there are roses :.
Under the lindens lately sat, :
Unfading Hope ! when life's last embers burn,.
Unfathomable Sea! whose waves are years,
Unlike those feeble gales of praise,
Unusual darkness broods ; and growing, gains,
l'p from the meadows rich with corn,
tp from the south at break of day,
Upon the sadness of the sea, .
Upon the white sea sand,
Venomous thorns that are so sharp and keen,
Verily the fancy may be false,
Verse, a breeze, mid blossoms straying,
Victoria's sceptre o'er the deep,
Virtue, forever frail, as fair, below,
Virtue! without thee,
Wall, no! I can't tell whar he lives,
Wanton droll, whose harmless play, .

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Want passed for merit at her open door :

Dryden, Was this the singer I had heard so long?

Cranch, . Waters above ! eternal springs !

Vaughan, We are all here!

Sprague. We are as clouds that veil the midnight moon;

Shelley, . We are born ; we laugh; we weep ;

B. W. Procter, We are ever waiting, waiting,

(.D. W. Brounell, We are face to face, and between us here,

P. (ary, We are living - we are dwelling,

(ore, .

We are not always equal to our fate, .
We are the sweei flowers,

Hunt, .
We are two travellers, Roger and i,

Troubridge, We are wrong always, when we think too much,

E. B. Brorning, Wears of myself, and sick of asking, .

Arnold,. We count the broken lyres that rest,

Holmes, Wee, modest, crimson-tipped tiuwer, .

Burns, Weep hot for nue;

Nerman, We have been friends together, .

Norton, Wo indeed have heard,

Welcome, silence! Welcome! peace !

We light on fruits and flowers, and purest things : Trench,
We live in dee is, not years; in thoughts, not breath; P.J. Bailey,
We live not in our moments or our years, .

Well, I confess, I did not guess,

Hood, Well might red' shame my cheek consume !

Trowbridge, We may not choose !

Jackson, We merry three,

Mackay, We must have doves and serpents in our heart

Quarles; We're all alone, we're all alone!

Spofford, Were I at Petra, could I not declare,

Tupper, Werther had a love for Charlotte, .

Thackeray, We sat by the cheerless fireside,

Stoddard, We should fill the hours with the sweetest things, Dickinson, : We that were friends, yet are not now, .

Lord Howyhton,
We two have grown us so divinely together, .

We walk alone through all life's various ways,
We watched her breathing through the night,

We were not many, - we who toou,

Hoffman, What ails this heart o' mine ?

Blumire, What ! and not one to heave the pious sigh ?.

R. Southey, Wbat a time since I wrote ! - I'm a sad, naughty girl, Moore, What could they be but bappy ? balanced so,

R. Browning, What frightens you thus, my good son ?

M. Prior, What heartache, – ne'er a hill!

Lanier, What if the foot, ordained the dusi to tread,

Pope, . What is hope? A smiling rainbow,

Carlyle, What is it that doth spoil the fair adorning,

A. Cary, What is the dearest happiness of heaven?

Coolidge, What is the little one thinking about?

Holland, What lies beyond the fair orizon's rim ?

Jennison, What love do I bring you?

Spofford, What makes a hero not success, not fame,

Sir H. Taylor, What man can hear sweet sounds and dread to die ? A. T. De l'ere, What man is he that boasts of Heshly might,

E. Spenser, Wiat memory fired her pallid face,

Spotford, ** What neeil has the singer to sing '?'

J. (. R. Dorr, What shall I do with all ihe days and liours,.

Kemble, . • What shall I sing?” I sigheid, and said,

J. J. Piatt, What's hallowed ground: Has earth a clod, .

Campbell, What sowds arouse me from my slumbers light?. Sargent, What though I sing no other song?

Winter, What though not all,

Akenside, What though short thy date!

E. Young, : What though the chilly wide-mouthed quacking, S. T. Coleridge, What thouglt is folded in thy leaves !

T. B. Aldrich, What to do to make thy fame,

Mackay, What wak'st thou, Spring? Sweet voices in the woods, Hemans, What war so cruel, or what siege so sore, .

E. Spenser, What was I cannot tell — thou know'st our story,. Howe,

60 123 816 5012 299 786 66 23 276

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+0 519 760 71

E. Gray,

328 430 119 122 813 272 833 131 071 186 528 529 194 317 418 108 471 661

6 683 710

11 365 260 525 289


What, what is virtue, but repose of mind, .

Thomson, What’wondrous power from heaven upon thee wrought ? Tharter, What would I save thee from, dear heart!

Gilder, What would life keep for me if thou should'st go? Jennison, When at eve I sit alone,

H. H. Brownell, When beeches brighten early May,

Cheney, When Britain first, at Heaven's command,

Thomson, When brooks of summer shallow run,

Cornwell, When by the evening's quiet light,

Lorer, When chance or cruel business parts us two,

Couley, . When chapınan billies leave the street,

Burns, When chill November's surly blast

Burns, When coldness wraps this sutfering clay,

Byron, Whene'er with haggard eyes I view, .

Canning, When eve is purpling cliff and cave, .

Croly, When first I looked into thy glorious eyes,

Whitman, When first religion came to bless the land,

Crabbe, When first the bride and bridegroom wed,

Stoddard, When first the soul of love is sent abroad,

Thomson, When first thy eyes unveil, give thy soul leave,

Vaughan, When freedom from her mountain height,

Drake, When, from the sacred garden driven,

Sprague, When God at first made man,

Herbert, When I am dead, my dearest,

C. G. Rossetti, When I am turned to mouldering dust,

Boker, When I behold what pleasure is Pursuit,

T. B.'Aldrich, When I beneath the cold red earth am sleeping, Motherwell, When I consider how my light is spent,

Milton, When I have fears that I may cease to be,

Keats, When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,

Shakespeare, When I shall be divorced, some ten years hence, M. Arnold, When I shall go,

G. P. Lathrop, When Israel, of the Loril beloved,

Scott, When I was dead, my spirit turned,

C. G. Rossetti, When last the maple bud was swelling,

Gallagher, When love is in her eyes, .

Fay, When maidens such as llester die,

Lamb, When May, with cowslip-braided locks,

B. Taylor, . When men in health against physicians rail,

Crabbe, When Music, heavenly maid, was young,

W. Collins, When once thy foot enters the church, be bare,

Herbert, When some proud son of man returns to earth,

Byron, When the drum of sickness beats,

stoddard, When the lessons and tasks are all ended,

Dickinson, When the rose is brightest,

W’illis, When the sheep are in the fauld,

Barnard, When the stern genius, to whose hollow tramp, B. Taylor, When to any saint I pray,

Parsons, When to soft Sleep we give ourselves away,

T. B. Aldrich, When to the sessions of sweet silent thought,

Shakespeare, Where are you, Sylvia, where?.

Gosse, Where did you come from, baby dear?.

Macdonald, Where honeysuckles scent the way, ..

F. Bates, Where is the dust that has not been alive?

E. Young, Where is thy favored haunt, eternal voice,

Keble, Where now the rill, melodious, pure, and cool,

Beattie, Where shall we find a perfect life, whereby, .

Richardson, Where slopes the beach to the setting sun,

Sarage, . Where then shall Hope and Fear their objects find? S. Johnson, Which I wish to remark

Bret Harte, Whilst Thee I seek, protecting Power !.

Williams, White daisies on the meadow green,

Winter, White stars begin to prick the wan blue sky,

Lazarus, Whoever thinks a faultless piece to see,

Pope, : Who is it rides with whip and spur,

w. Young, Whom first we love, you know, we seldom wed, R. B. Lytton, Whom shall we praise ?.

Mackay, Who now shall grace the giowing throne, .

Sprague, Who often reads will sometimes wish to write, .


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24 837 479 466 820 602 325 567 165 145 264

94 541 187 653

30 565 763

11 489 821 359

32 684 314

35 459 472 308 729 650 659 337 432 358 810 757 534 163

500 836 16+ 618

83 597 672 812 ONS 315

Whose is the gold that glitters in the mine?.
Who will tell me the secret, the cause,
Who would by law regain his plundered store,
Who would call the tencl a whale,
Why am I loth to leave this earthiy scene,
Why art thou colored like the evening sky,
Why art thou silent! Is thy love a plant,
Why, death, what dost thou here,
Whiy'don't the men propose, mamma?
Why should we faint and fear to live alone,
Why so pale and wan, fond lover!.
Why start at death! Where is he?
Why thus longing, thus forever sighing,
Why was I born, and where was 1,
Widow Machree, it's no wonder you frown,
Wild rose of Alloway! my thanks;
Will the day ever coine, I wonder,
Wilt thou forgive me in that other sphere,
Winged inimic of the woods! thou niutley fool!
With fingers weary and worn,
Within the sober realm of leatless trees,
Within this lowly grave a Conqueror lies,
With irresolute tinger le knocked at each one,
With iny beloved l lingered late one night,
Without your showers,
With the same letter lieaven and home begin,
Woman's faith and woman's trust,
Woodman, spare that tree!
Woods, waters, have a charm to soothe the ear,
Years, years ago, ere yet my dreams,
Ye banks, and braes, and streams around,
Ye distant spires, ye antique towers,
Ye field Howers! the gardens eclipse you, 'tis true,
Ye Mariners of England !
Yes, faith is a goodly anchor;
Yes, love indeed is light from heaven;
Yes, social friend, I love thee well,
Yes, 'twill be over soon, - ..
Yes, write, if you want to, there's nothing like trying ;
Yet of his little he had some to spare,
Yet once more, griever at Neglect,
“Yet, onward still!” the spirit cries within,
Yet, though thou fade,
Ye've gathered to your place of prayer,
Yon car of tire, though veiled by day,
Yon woodland, like a human mind,
You are old, Father William, the young man cried,
You may drink to your leman in gold,
Young Ben, he was a nice young man,
Young Rory O'More courted Kathleen Bawn,
Your poem must eternal be,
You think you love me, Marguerite, .
Youth, thou art filed, -'but where are all the charms,

(. Cook,
T. H. Bayly,
E. Young,
(ranch, .
J. C. R. Dorr,
R. H. Wilde,
R. B. Lytton
G. P. Lathrop,
Scoit, .
G. P. Morris,
T. Gray,
H. K. White,
Lryden, .
11. 6. Whire. :
R. Southey,
S. T.' Coleridge,
K. P. Osgood,
H. Coleridge,

413 176 717 219 1:3 845 649 281 40+

79 752 334 228 627 479 288



85 244 111 110 350 97

23 66 7:32 207 619 501 6:26 652

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