Chapter I: Know ’tis Late, but Let Me Stay

I know ’tis late, but let me stay,
For night is tenderer than day;
Sweet love, dear love, I cannot go;
Dear love, sweet love, I love thee so.
The birds are in the grove asleep,
The katydids shrill concert keep,
The woodbine breathes a fragrance rare
To please the dewy, languid air,
The fireflies twinkle in the vale,
The river shines in moonlight pale:
See yon bright star! choose it for thine,
And call its near companion mine;
Yon air-spun lace above the moon,--
’Twill veil her radiant beauty soon;
And look! a meteor’s dreamy light
Streams mystic through the solemn night.
Ah, life glides swift, like that still fire--
How soon our gleams of joy expire!
Who can be sure the present kiss
Is not his last? Make all of this.
I know ’tis late, dear love, I know,
Dear love, sweet love, I love thee so.

It cannot be the stealthy day
That turns the orient darkness gray;
Heardst thou? I thought or feared I heard
Vague twitters of some wakeful bird.
Nay, ’twas but summer in her sleep
Low murmuring from the leafy deep.
Fantastic mist obscurely fills
The hollows of Kentucky hills.
The wings of night are swift indeed!
Why makes the jealous morn such speed?
This rose thou wear’st may I not take
For passionate remembrance’ sake?
Press with thy lips its crimson heart.
Yes, blushing rose, we must depart.
A rose cannot return a kiss--
I pay its due with this, and this.
The stars grow faint, they soon will die,
But love fades not nor fails. Good-bye!
Unhappy joy--delicious pain--
We part in love, we meet again.
Good-bye! the morning dawns--I go;
Dear love, sweet love, I love thee so.

WILLIAM H. VENABLE.

CASHEL OF MUNSTER.

I would wed you, dear, without gold or gear, or counted kine;
My wealth you’ll be, would your friends agree, and you be mine.
My grief, my gloom! that you do not come, my heart’s dear hoard!
To Cashel fair, though our couch were there but a soft deal board.

Oh, come, my bride, o’er the wild hill-side to the valley low!
A downy bed for my love I’ll spread where waters flow,
And we shall stray where streamlets play, the groves among,
Where echo tells to the listening dells the blackbird’s song.

Love tender, true, I gave to you, and secret sighs,
In hope to see upon you and me one hour arise,
When the priest’s blest voice would bind my choice and the ring’s
strict tie,
If wife you be, love, to one but me, love, in grief I’ll die!

A neck of white has my heart’s delight, and breast like snow,
And flowing hair whose ringlets fair to the green grass flow,
Alas! that I did not early die, before the day
That saw me here, from my bosom’s dear, far, far away!

EDWARD WALSH.

DAFFODILS.

I question with the amber daffodils,
Sheeting the floors of April, how she fares;
Where king-cup buds gleam out between the rills,
And celandine in wide gold beadlets glares.

By pastured brows and swelling hedgerow bowers,
From crumpled leaves the primrose bunches slip,
My hot face roll’d in their faint-scented flowers,
I dream her rich cheek rests against my lip.

All weird sensations of the fervent prime
Are like great harmonies, whose touch can move
The glow of gracious impulse: thought and time
Renew my love with life, my life with love.

When this old world new-born puts glories on,
I cannot think she never will be won.

JOHN LEICESTER WARREN.

AVE ATQUE VALE.

Farewell my Youth! for now we needs must part,
For here the paths divide;
Here hand from hand must sever, heart from heart,--
Divergence deep and wide.

You’ll wear no withered roses for my sake,
Though I go mourning for you all day long,
Finding no magic more in bower and brake,
No melody in song.

Gray Eld must travel in my company
To seal this severance more fast and sure.
A joyless fellowship, i’ faith, ’twill be,
Yet must we fare together, I and he,
Till I shall tread the footpath way no more.

But when a blackbird pipes among the boughs,
On some dim iridescent day in spring,
Then I may dream you are remembering
Our ancient vows.

Or when some joy foregone, some fate forsworn
Looks through the dark eyes of the violet,
I may recross the set, forbidden bourne, I may forget
Our long, long parting for a little while,
Dream of the golden splendours of your smile,
Dream you remember yet.

ROSAMUND MARRIOT WATSON.

EPITAPH.

Now lay thee down to sleep, and dream of me;
Though thou art dead and I am living yet,
Though cool thy couch and sweet thy slumbers be,
Dream--do not quite forget.

Sleep all the autumn, all the winter long,
With never a painted shadow from the past
To haunt thee; only, when the blackbird’s song
Wakens the woods at last,

When the young shoots grow lusty overhead,
Here, where the spring sun smiles, the spring wind grieves,
When budding violets close above thee spread
Their small heart-shapen leaves,

Pass, O Belovèd, to dreams from slumber deep;
Recount the store that mellowing time endears,
Tread, through the measureless mazes of thy sleep,
Our old unchangeful years.

Lie still and listen--while thy sheltering tree
Whispers of suns that rose, of suns that set--
For far-off echoes of the spring and me.
Dream--do not quite forget.

ROSAMUND MARRIOT WATSON.

A GOLDEN HOUR.

A beckoning spirit of gladness seemed afloat,
That lightly danced in laughing air before us:
The earth was all in tune, and you a note
Of Nature’s happy chorus.

’Twas like a vernal morn, yet overhead
The leafless boughs across the lane were knitting:
The ghost of some forgotten spring, we said,
O’er winter’s world comes flitting.

Or was it spring herself, that, gone astray,
Beyond the alien frontier chose to tarry?
Or but some bold outrider of the May,
Some April emissary?

The apparition faded on the air,
Capricious and incalculable comer.--
Wilt thou too pass, and leave my chill days bare,
And fall’n my phantom summer?

WILLIAM WATSON.

AND THESE--ARE THESE INDEED THE END?

And these--are these indeed the end,
This grinning skull, this heavy loam?
Do all green ways whereby we wend
Lead but to yon ignoble home?

Ah, well! Thine eyes invite to bliss;
Thy lips are hives of summer still.
I ask not other worlds while this
Proffers me all the sweets I will.

WILLIAM WATSON.

A DREAM.

Beneath the loveliest dream there coils a fear:
Last night came she whose eyes are memories now,
Her far-off gaze seemed all-forgetful how
Love dimmed them once, so calm they shone, and clear.
“Sorrow (I said) hath made me old, my dear;
’Tis I, indeed, but grief doth change the brow;
A love like mine a seraph’s neck might bow,
Vigils like mine would blanch an angel’s hair.”

Ah! then I saw, I saw the sweet lips move!
I saw the love-mists thickening in her eyes;
I heard wild wordless melodies of love,
Like murmur of dreaming brooks in Paradise;
And when upon my neck she fell, my dove,
I knew her hair, though heavy of amaranth-spice.

THEODORE WATTS.

THE FIRST KISS.

If only in dreams may man be fully blest,
Is heav’n a dream? Is she I claspt a dream?
Or stood she here even now where dewdrops gleam,
And miles of furze shine golden down the West?
I seem to clasp her still,--still on my breast
Her bosom beats; I see the blue eyes beam:
I think she kissed these lips, for now they seem
Scarce mine, so hallow’d of the lips they press’d!

Yon thicket’s breath--can that be eglantine?
Those birds--can they be morning’s choristers?
Can this be earth? Can these be banks of furze?
Like burning bushes fired of God they shine!
I seem to know them, though this body of mine
Pass’d into spirit at the touch of hers.

THEODORE WATTS.

SUFFICIENCY.

A little love, of Heaven a little share,
And then we go--what matters it, since where,
Or when, or how, none may aforetime know,
Nor if Death cometh soon, or lingering slow,
Send on ahead his herald of Despair.

On this gray life Love lights with golden glow
Refracted from The Source, his bright wings throw
Its glory on us, if Fate grant our prayer,
A little love!

A little; ’tis as much as we can bear,
For Love is compassed with such magic air
Who breathes it fully dies; and knowing so,
The Gods all wisely but a taste bestow
For little lives; a little while they spare
A little love.

GLEESON WHITE.

BENEDICITE.

God’s love and peace be with thee, where
Soe’er this soft autumnal air
Lifts the dark tresses of thy hair!

Whether through city casements comes
Its kiss to thee, in crowded rooms,
Or, out among the woodland blooms,

It freshens o’er thy thoughtful face,
Imparting, in its glad embrace,
Beauty to beauty, grace to grace!

Fair Nature’s book together read,--
The old wood-paths that knew our tread,
The maple shadows overhead,

The hills we climbed, the river seen
By gleams along its deep ravine,--
All keep thy memory fresh and green.

Where’er I look, where’er I stray,
Thy thought goes with me on my way,
And hence the prayer I breathe to-day;

O’er lapse of time and change of scene,--
The weary waste which lies between
Thyself and me, my heart I lean.

Thou lack’st not Friendship’s spell-word, nor
The half-unconscious power to draw
All hearts to thine by Love’s sweet law.

With these good gifts of God is cast
Thy lot, and many a charm thou hast
To hold the blessed angels fast.

If, then, a fervent wish for thee
The gracious heavens will heed from me,
What should, dear heart, its burden be?

The sighing of a shaken reed,--
What can I more than meekly plead
The greatness of our common need?

God’s love,--unchanging, pure, and true,--
The Paraclete white-shining through
His peace,--the fall of Hermon’s dew!

With such a prayer, on this sweet day,
As thou mayst hear and I may say,
I greet thee, dearest, far away!

JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER.

MY VIOLET.

When violets blue begin to blow
Among the mosses fresh and green,
That grow the woodbine roots between,
I take my Violet out, and, oh!
Those cunning violets seem to know
A sweeter than themselves is nigh;
They greet her with a beaming eye,
And brighten where her footsteps go.

When summer glories light the glade
With gloss of green and gleam of gold,
And sunny sheens in wood and wold,
She loves to linger in the shade;
And such sweet light surrounds the maid,
That, somehow, it is fairer far
Where she and those dim shadows are,
Than where the sunbeams are displayed.

When every tree relinquisheth
Its garb of green for sombre brown,
And all the leaves are falling down,
While breezes blow with angry breath,
With gentle pitying voice she saith,
“Poor leaves! I wish you would not die;”
And at the sound they peaceful lie,
And wear a pleasant calm in death.

When winter frosts hold land and sea,
And barren want and bleaker wind
Leave every thought of good behind,
I look upon my love, and she
From thrall of winter sets me free;
And with a sense of perfect rest
I lay my head upon her breast,
And twenty summers shine for me.

J. T. BURTON WOLLASTON.

ASLEEP.

Lids closed and pale, with parted lips she lay;
Black on white pillows spread her hair unbound.
Awake, I watched her sleeping face, and found
Its beauty perfect in the breaking day.

Ah, then I knew that Love had passed away;
Alas! though with the entering sun that crowned
With light the beauty that mine arms enwound,
Came too the morning music of the bay.

I wept that Love had been and was no more,
That never shower nor sunlight should restore
The love that gave her life and heart to me;

While radiant in the outburst of the dawn,
Fresh as the wind that swept the mountain lawn,
Green April wantoned on the noisy sea.

THEODORE WRATISLAW.

SWIMMING SONG.

The broad green rollers lift and glide
Beneath our hearts as, side by side,
We breast them blithely, blithely swim
Toward the far horizon’s rim.

The murmur of the land recedes,
The land of grief that aches and needs;
We only as we fall and rise
Drink deep the splendour of the skies.

O far blue heaven above our head,
O near green sea about us spread,
What joy so full, since time began,
Could earth, our mother, give to man?

Your bright face through the water peers
And laughs. “What need have men for tears?”
We say. The land is far and dim,
The world is summer’s, and we swim.

Your bright face peers and laughs. The sweet
Same joy fulfils us, hands and feet:
The same sea’s salt wet lips kiss ours:
We feel the same enraptured hours.

Out yonder! where our distant home
Beckons us from the crests of foam!
Out yonder through the roller’s mirth!
What part was ever ours with earth?

Your white limbs flash, your red lips gleam:
Love seems life’s best and holiest dream;
Nought comes between us here, and I
Could wish not otherwise to die.

With sea beneath us, heaven above,
Life holds but laughter, joy, and love;
No trammels bind us now, and we
Are freer than the birds are free.

Your face seems sweeter here; your hair,
Wet from the sea’s salt lips, more fair;
Your limbs that move and gleam and shine,
Hellenic, pagan, half divine.

If I should catch you now, make fast
Your hands with mine, about you cast
My limbs, and through the untroubled waves
Draw you down to the sea’s deep graves!

Ah, sweet! God’s gift is good enough,
God’s gift of freedom, life, and love--
Though but for this brief hour are we
Alone upon the eternal sea.

THEODORE WRATISLAW.

THE PEACE OF THE ROSE.

If Michael, leader of God’s host,
When Heaven and Hell are met,
Looked down on you from Heaven’s door-post,
He would his deeds forget.

Brooding no more upon God’s wars
In his Divine homestead,
He would go weave out of the stars
A chaplet for your head;

And all folk seeing him bow down,
And white stars tell your praise,
Would come at last to God’s great town,
Led on by gentle ways;

And God would bid his warfare cease,
Saying all things were well,
And softly make a rosy peace,
A peace of Heaven and Hell.

W. B. YEATS.

THE BRIDAL PAIR.

HE.

Though the roving bee as lightly
Sip the sweets of thyme and clover,
Though the moon of May as whitely
Silver all the greensward over,
Yet, beneath the trysting tree,
That hath been which shall not be!

SHE.

Drip the vials ne’er so sweetly
With the honey-dew of pleasure,
Trip the dancers ne’er so featly
Through the old remembered measure,
Yet, the lighted lanthorn round,
What is lost shall not be found!

WILLIAM YOUNG.

THE TRIFLERS.

HE.

Because thou wast cold and proud,
And as one alone in the crowd,
And because of thy wilful and wayward look,
I thought, as I saw thee above my book,
“I will prove if her heart be flesh or stone;”
And in seeking thine, I have found my own.

SHE.

Because thou wast proud and cold,
And because of the story told
That never had woman a smile from thee,
I thought as I glanc’d, “If he frown on me,
Why, be it so! but his peace shall atone;”
And in troubling thine, I have lost my own.

WILLIAM YOUNG.

AT THY GRAVE.

Waves the soft grass at my feet;
Dost thou feel me near thee, sweet?
Though the earth upon thy face
Holds thee close from my embrace,
Yet my spirit thine can reach,
Needs betwixt us twain no speech,
For the same soul lives in each.

Now I meet no tender eyes
Seeking mine in soft surmise
At some broken utterance faint,
Smile quick brightening, sigh half spent;
Yet in some sweet hours gone by,
No responding eye to eye
Needed we for sympathy.

Love, I seem to see thee stand
Silent in a shadowy land,
With a look upon thy face
As if even in that dull place
Distant voices smote thine ears,
Memories of vanished years,
Or faint echoes of those tears.

Yet I would not have it thus;
Then would be most piteous
Our divided lives, if thou
An imperfect bliss should know;
Sweet my suffering, if to thee
Death has brought the faculty
Of entire felicity.

Rather would I weep in vain,
That thou canst not share my pain,
Deem that Lethean waters roll
Softly o’er thy separate soul,
Know that a divided bliss
Makes thee careless of my kiss,
Than that thou shouldst feel distress.

Hush! I hear a low, sweet sound
As of music stealing round;
Forms thy hand the thrilling chords
Into more than spoken words?
Ah! ’tis but the gathering breeze
Whispering to the budding trees,
Or the song of early bees.

Love! where art thou? Canst thou not
Hear me, or is all forgot?
Seest thou not these burning tears?
Can my words not reach thine ears?
Or betwixt my soul and thine
Has some mystery divine
Sealed a separating line?

Is it thus, then, after death
Old things none remembereth?
Is the spirit henceforth clear
Of the life it gathered here?
Will our noblest longings seem
Like some disremembered dream
In the after world’s full beam?

Hark! the rainy wind blows loud,
Scuds above the hurrying cloud;
Hushed is all the song of bees;
Angry murmurs of the trees
Herald tempests. Silent yet
Sleepest thou--nor fear nor fret
Troubles thee. Can I forget?

LO! IN A DREAM LOVE CAME TO ME.

Lo! in a dream Love came to me and cried:
“The summer dawn creeps over land and sea;
The golden fields are ripe for harvest-tide,
And the grape-gatherers climb the mountain-side;
The harvest joy is come; I wait for thee.
Arise, come down, and follow, follow me.”

And I arose, went down, and followed him.
The reaper’s song went ringing through the air;
Below, the morning mists grew pale and dim,
And on the mountain ridge the sun’s bright rim
Rose swiftly, and the glorious dawn was there.
I followed, followed Love, I knew not where.

Through orange groves and orchard ways we went;
The cool fresh dew lay deep on grass and tree,
Above our heads the laden boughs were bent
With weight of ripening fruit; the faint sweet scent
Of fragrant myrtles drifted up to me:
Blindly, O Love, blindly I followed thee!

O Love, the morning shadows passed away
From off the broad fair fields of waving wheat;
I followed thee, till in the full noonday
The weary women in the vineyards lay;
The tall field flowers drooped fading in the heat:
I followed thee with bruised and bleeding feet.

Upon the long white road the fierce sun shone,
And on the distant town and wide waste plain,
O Love, I blindly, blindly followed on,
Nor knew how sharp the way my feet had gone;
Nor knew I aught of shame or loss or pain,
Nor knew I all my labour was in vain.

The sun sank down in silence o’er the land,
The heavy shadows gathered deep and black;
Across the lonely waste of reeds and sand
I followed Love: I could not touch his hand,
Nor see his hidden face, nor turn me back,
Nor find again the far-off mountain-track.

Blindly, O Love! blindly I followed thee:
The summer night lay on the silent plain,
And on the sleeping city and the sea;
The sound of rippling waves came up to me.
O Love! the dawn drew near; far off again
The gray light gathered where the night had lain.

On through the quiet street Love passed, and cried:
“The summer dawn creeps over land and sea;
Sweet is the summer and the harvest-tide;
Awake, arise, Love waits for thee, his Bride.”
And she arose and followed, followed thee,
O traitor Love! who hast forsaken me.

FRASER’S MAGAZINE.

_VALE._

_Warbleth the bird of Love his golden song,
And many hearken to his magic strain;
In joyous major now he carols strong,
In minors low he croons his soft refrain._

_So fair his lay of Love’s fond empery,
One scarce may mark the quaver of his sigh;
Or note amid his seeming ecstasy
The dream that fades, the hopes that shatter’d lie._

_But most he sings for Youth’s enraptured ear,
When hope beats fast and buds are bourgeoning,--
“Time flies,” he trills, “clasp close the fleeting year
Ere winter cometh, and sweet Love take wing!”_

INDEX

ADCOCK, A. ST. J.:

Since Yesterday....._Chambers’ Journal_

ALDRICH, ANNE REEVE:

An Awakening....._The Rose of Flame_ Love, the Destroyer.....“ “

ALDRICH, THOMAS BAILEY:

Sweetheart, Sigh no More....._Wyndham Towers_ The Faded Violet....._Poems_

ANONYMOUS:

A Song of Love....._Love lies Bleeding_ At thy Grave. Et Melle et Felle....._Love in a Mist_ Lo! in a Dream Love came to Me....._Fraser’s Magazine_ The Lonely Landscape....._Love lies Bleeding_ The Outcast.....“ “

ARNOLD, SIR EDWIN:

Song....._The Light of Asia_

ARNOLD, MATTHEW:

Calais Sands....._Poems_

ASHE, THOMAS:

Phantoms....._Poems_ The Guest.....“ The Secret.....“

AUSTIN, ALFRED:

If Love could Last....._The Garden that I Love_

BARLOW, GEORGE:

A Journey....._Song Spray_ If only Thou art True....._From Dawn to Sunset_ The Ecstasy of the Hair....._A Life’s Love_

BEECHING, H. C.:

The Night Watches....._Love’s Looking-Glass_

BENNETT, JOHN:

In a Rose Garden....._The Chap Book_

BLIND, MATHILDE:

I charge you, O Winds of the West....._A Love Trilogy_ Song....._Love in Exile_

BOURDILLON, F. W.:

Cæli....._Ailes d’Alouette_ Love in the Heart.....“ “

BRIDGES, ROBERT:

I will not let Thee go....._The Shorter Poems_ Long are the Hours.....“ “

BROWNING, ROBERT:

Apparitions....._Poems_ Porphyria’s Lover.....“

BUNNER, H. C.:

Robin’s Song....._Airs from Arcady_ The Hour of Shadows.....“ “

CARMAN, BLISS:

Carnations in Winter....._Low Tide on Grand Pré_ The Eavesdropper.....“ “

CARPENTER, HENRY BERNARD:

The Impossible She....._A Poet’s Last Songs_

CAWEIN, MADISON:

A Dream Shape....._Undertones_ Unrequited....._Moods and Memories_

CLARKE, HERBERT E.:

In the Wood....._Songs of Exile_

COLLIER, THOMAS STEVENS:

At Love’s Gate....._Song Spray_

COLLINS, MORTIMER:

Birds and Lovers....._Selections from the Poetical Works_ Dawn.....“ “ “ “

COONLEY, LYDIA AVERY:

Love’s Power....._Under the Pines, and Other Verses_

CRANE, WALTER:

Last Night my Lady talked with Me....._Renascence_ Love’s Arrows.....“

CURWEN, HARRY:

A Love Song....._French Love Songs, and Other Poems_

CUSTANCE, OLIVE:

The Parting Hour.

DOBSON, AUSTIN:

The Sundial....._Old World Idylls, and Other Verses_

ELLWANGER, GEORGE H.:

Spring Song.

ELLWANGER, W. D.:

To Jessie’s Dancing Feet....._The Century_

GALE, NORMAN R.:

A Love Song....._Violets_ A Song.....“

GARNETT, RICHARD:

A Nocturne....._Poems_ Violets.....“

GOSSE, EDMUND WILLIAM:

A Year....._On Viol and Flute_ I’ve kissed Thee, Sweetheart....._Firdausi in Exile, and Other Poems_

GRAY, JOHN:

Complaint....._Silverpoints_ Heart’s Demesne.....“

GREENE, G. A.:

In the Evening....._Italian Lyrists of To-day_ When the Leaves Fall.....“ “ “

GREENWELL, DORA:

Qui sait aimer, sait mourir....._Poems_

GULSTON, A. STEPNEY:

Song....._Metempsychosis_

HALL, GERTRUDE:

O Knight, if Thou a Lady hast....._Verses_

HALL, WILLIAM C.:

At Last....._Songs in a Minor Key_

HANKIN, MARY L.:

The Old is Better....._Year by Year_

HENLEY, W. E.:

Ballade of Midsummer Days and Nights....._A Book of Verses_ Oh, gather me the Rose.....“ “

HICKEY, EMILY H.:

Her Dream....._Lyrics and Verse Tales_

HILDRETH, CHARLES LOTIN:

Song....._The Masque of Death, and Other Poems_ The Tryst.....“ “ “ “

HINSHELWOOD, A. ERNEST:

By one Rapt Day....._Through Starlight to Dawn_

HOLMES, OLIVER WENDELL:

The Dilemma....._Poems_

HORNE, HERBERT P.:

The Measure....._Diversi Colores_

HUNT, HELEN:

Two Truths....._Verses_

IMAGE, SELWYN:

A Prayer....._Poems and Carols_

JENNER, HENRY:

A June Storm....._The Spectator_

KINGSLEY, CHARLES:

Dolcino to Margaret....._Poems_

LAMPMAN, ARCHIBALD:

A Ballade of Waiting....._Among the Millet and Other Poems_ A Forecast.....“ “ “ “

LANG, ANDREW:

An Old Tune....._Ballades and Verses Vain_ Good-bye....._Grass of Parnassus_ Metempsychosis....._Ballades and Lyrics of Old France_

LE GALLIENNE, RICHARD:

A Ballade of Old Sweethearts....._My Ladies’ Sonnets_

LEVY, AMY:

In the Mile End Road....._A London Plane Tree, and Other Poems_

LINTON, W. J.:

Love Afraid....._Poems and Translations_

LOCKER, FREDERICK:

To my Mistress....._London Lyrics_

LONGFELLOW, HENRY WADSWORTH:

It is not always May....._Poetical Works_

LOWELL, JAMES RUSSELL:

Auf Wiedersehen....._Poems_

LYALL, SIR ALFRED:

Sequel to “My Queen”....._Verses written in India_

LYTTON, ROBERT, LORD:

If...?....._Marah_ Omens and Oracles.....“

MCCARTHY, JUSTIN HUNTLY:

The Garden of Memory....._Harlequinade_

MACDONALD, GEORGE:

If I were a Monk and thou wert a Nun....._Poems_

MACKAIL, J. W.:

A Ballade of Colours....._Love’s Looking-Glass_

MACKAY, ERIC:

My Amazon....._Love Letters of a Violinist_

MARSTON, PHILIP BOURKE:

Changed Love....._Wind Voices_ Summer’s Return....._Song-Tide, and Other Poems_

MARSTON, WESTLAND:

Mine....._Selected Dramatic Work and Poems_

MARZIALS, THEO.:

Aubade....._The Gallery of Pigeons, and Other Poems_ The Phial and the Philtre.....“ “ “ “

MASSEY, GERALD:

Not I, Sweet Soul, not I....._Love Lyrics_

MEREDITH, GEORGE:

At Dinner she is Hostess....._Modern Love_ Love within the Lover’s Breast.

MONKHOUSE, COSMO:

A Dead March....._Corn and Poppies_

MORRIS, LEWIS:

Fair Star that on the Shoulder of yon Hill....._Gwen_ Thy Shadow, O Tardy Night.....“

MORRIS, WILLIAM:

The First Lyric....._Love is Enough_ The Concluding Lyric.....“ “

MOULTON, LOUISE CHANDLER:

Beside a Bier....._In the Garden of Dreams_ Hereafter.....“ “ “

MURRAY, GEORGE:

Fortunio’s Song....._Verses and Versions_

NESBIT, E. (MRS. HUBERT BLAND):

Splendide Mendax....._Lays and Legends, Second Series_ The Kiss....._Leaves of Life_ The Mill....._Lays and Legends, Second Series_

NICHOLS, J. B. B.:

A Pastoral....._Love in Idleness_ Vigilate Itaque.....“ “

NOBLE, JAMES ASHCROFT:

The Horizon....._Verses of a Prose Writer_

O’CONNOR, JOSEPH:

Shadows....._Poems_

O’SHAUGHNESSY, ARTHUR:

A Farewell....._Music and Moonlight_ Song.....“ “ Supreme Summer.....“ “

PARKER, GILBERT:

As One would stand who saw a Sudden Light....._A Lover’s Diary_

PATMORE, COVENTRY:

Departure....._The Unknown Eros_

PAYNE, JOHN:

Cadences....._Songs of Life and Death_ Chant Royal of the God of Love....._New Poems_ False Spring....._Songs of Life and Death_

PERRY, NORA:

In June....._After the Ball, and Other Poems_

PFEIFFER, EMILY:

A Song of Winter.

PHILLIPS, STEPHEN:

To a Lost Love....._Primavera_

PHILPOT, WILLIAM:

Prince of Painters, come, I pray.

PINKERTON, PERCY C.:

A Lagoon Message....._Galeazzo, and Other Poems_

POLLOCK, WALTER HERRIES:

A Conquest....._New and Old_ The Devout Lover.....“ “

PROBYN, MAY:

Ballade of Lovers....._A Ballade of the Road, and Other Poems_

RAWNSLEY, HARDWICK DRUMMOND:

In a Garden....._Poems, Ballads, and Bucolics_

REESE, LIZETTE WOODWORTH:

A Song for Candlemas....._A Handful of Lavender_

RHYS, ERNEST:

A Dream of Diana....._A London Rose, and Other Rhymes_

RILEY, JAMES WHITCOMB:

When She comes Home....._Old-Fashioned Roses_

ROBINSON, A. MARY F. (MADAME JAMES DARMESTETER):

Poplar Leaves....._Lyrics_

ROSSETTI, CHRISTINA G.:

After Death....._Poems_ Somewhere or Other.....“

ROSSETTI, DANTE GABRIEL:

First Love Remembered....._The House of Life_ Love Enthroned.....“ “ Sudden Light.....“ “

SCOLLARD, CLINTON:

A Perfect Day....._The Hills of Song_

SCOTT, CLEMENT:

Rus in Urbe....._Lays and Lyrics_

SHARP, WILLIAM:

Song. The Coming of Love....._The Pagan Review_

SILL, EDWARD ROWLAND:

Recall....._Poems_

SPOFFORD, HARRIET PRESCOTT:

Fantasia....._Poems_ Only a Leaf.....“

STEDMAN, EDMUND CLARENCE:

Song from a Drama....._Poems_

STORY, W. W.:

The Violet....._Poems_

STRANGE, EDWARD FAIRBROTHER:

To my Lady....._Palissy in Prison, and Other Verses_

SWINBURNE, ALGERNON CHARLES:

At Parting....._Poems and Ballads, Second Series_ August....._Laus Veneris_ Between the Sunset and the Sea....._Chastelard_ The Oblation....._Songs before Sunrise_

SYMONS, ARTHUR:

On Judge’s Walk....._Silhouettes_

SYMONDS, JOHN ADDINGTON:

Ich hör’ es sogar im Traum....._New and Old_ Oh, when will it be?....._The Spirit Lamp_

TEMPLE, STEPHEN:

Ballade of the Ladyes of Long Syne.

TENNYSON, ALFRED, LORD:

Fatima....._Poems_ Now sleeps the Crimson Petal.....“ The Window; or the Songs of the Wrens.....“

THOMAS, EDITH M.:

Valentine....._Lyrics and Sonnets_

THOMPSON, FRANCIS:

Dream Tryst....._Poems_

THOMPSON, MAURICE:

Atalanta....._Songs of Fair Weather_

THOMSON, JAMES:

A Song of Thanksgiving....._Sunday up the River_ Day after Day of this Azure May....._Sunday at Hampstead_

TODHUNTER, JOHN:

The Song of Tristram....._The Second Book of the Rhymers’ Club_

TOMSON, GRAHAM R. (ROSAMUND MARRIOTT WATSON):

Aubade....._A Summer Night, and Other Poems_ Love the Guest....._The Bird Bride_

TURNER, CHARLES TENNYSON:

A Blush at Farewell....._Collected Sonnets_ The Kiss of Betrothal.....“ “ The Parting-Gate.....“ “

TYNAN, KATHERINE:

Irish Love Song....._Irish Love Songs_

TYTLER, C. C. FRASER (MRS. EDWARD LIDDELL):

Good-Night....._Songs in Minor Keys_

VENABLE, WILLIAM H.:

I know ’tis Late, but let Me stay....._Melodies of the Heart_

WALSH, EDWARD:

Cashel of Munster....._Irish Love Songs_

WARREN, JOHN LEICESTER (LORD DE TABLEY):

Daffodils....._Poems, Dramatic and Lyrical_

WATSON, ROSAMUND MARRIOTT (GRAHAM R. TOMSON):

Ave atque Vale....._Vespertilia, and Other Verses_ Epitaph.....“ “ “ “

WATSON, WILLIAM:

A Golden Hour....._Lachrymæ Musarum, and Other Poems_ And These--are These indeed the End?....._Poems_

WATTS, THEODORE: A Dream....._Aylwin_ The First Kiss....._Sonnets_

WHITE, GLEESON:

Sufficiency.

WHITTIER, JOHN GREENLEAF:

Benedicite....._Poems_

WOLLASTON, J. T. BURTON:

My Violet....._Golden Hours_

WRATISLAW, THEODORE:

Asleep....._Orchids_ Swimming Song.....“

YEATS, W. B.:

The Peace of the Rose....._The Countess Kathleen, and Various Legends and Lyrics_

YOUNG, WILLIAM:

The Bridal Pair....._Wishmakers’ Town_ The Triflers.....“ “

INDEX OF FIRST LINES

.....PAGE

A beckoning spirit of gladness seemed afloat, 290

A hundred years from now, dear heart, 24

A little love, of Heaven a little share, 294

All glorious as the Rainbow’s birth, 153

All the phantoms of the future, all the spectres, 136

Alone, alone, thro’ the sunny street, 87

And these--are these indeed the end, 291

Ask nothing more of me, sweet, 251

As one would stand who saw a sudden light, 193

At dinner she is hostess, I am host, 155

A thousand knights have rein’d their steeds, 9

Azure of sky and silver of cloud, 181

Barb’d blossom of the guarded gorse, 207

Because thou wast cold and proud, 306

Beneath the loveliest dream there coils a fear, 292

Between the pansies and the rye, 102

Between the sunset and the sea, 249

Bland air and leagues of immemorial blue, 230

By one rapt day Love doth his harvest mete, 98

Cold blows the wind against the hill, 75

Come, oh, come to me, voice or look, or spirit, 22

Comrades! in vain ye seek to learn, 168

Countess, I see the flying year, 118

“Darling,” he said, “I never meant”, 103

Dawn, with flusht foot upon the mountain tops, 54

Day after day of this azure May, 269

Dear, let me dream of love, 104

Fair star that on the shoulder of yon hill, 160

Far away hangs an apple that ripens on high, 45

Farewell my Youth! for now we needs must part, 286

Fold your arms around me, Sweet, 92

For a day and night, Love sang to us, played, 244

For the man was she made by the Eden tree, 216

From out the past she comes to me, 243

God’s love and peace be with thee, where, 295

Gone!, 262

Has summer come without the rose, 186

Hath any loved you well down there, 183

Herald of peace and joy, 68

Her tears are all thine own! how blest thou art!, 275

How, as a spider’s web is spun, 70

How like her! But ’tis she herself, 116

How many lips have uttered one sweet word--, 96

“I burn my soul away!”, 83

I cannot look upon thy grave, 209

I charge you, O winds of the West, 26

I dared not lead my arm around, 117

I did not dream that Love would stay, 273

I’d send a troop of kisses to entangle, 21

If in thine eyes, 123

If I were a monk, and thou wert a nun, 138

If Love could last, if Love could last, 15

If love were like a thrush’s song, 84

If Michael, leader of God’s host, 304

If only a single Rose is left, 20

If only in dreams may man be fully blest, 293

I found him openly wearing her token, 214

If stars were really watching eyes, 29

If thou canst make the frost be gone, 263

I had never kissed her her whole life long, 166

I have been here before, 229

I know not if moonlight or starlight, 239

I know ’tis late, but let me stay, 281

I marked all kindred Powers the heart finds fair, 228

In after years a twilight ghost shall fill, 167

In and out the osier beds, all along the shallows, 234

In a still room at hush of dawn, 43

In dream I saw Diana pass, Diana as of old, 221

In that old beech-walk, now bestrewn with mast, 277

In that tranced hush when sound sank awed, 148

I question with the amber daffodils, 285

I saw young Love make trial of his bow, 59

I shall not see thee, nay, but I shall know, 113

I sit alone and watch the cinders glare, 81

It is not mine to sing the stately grace, 215

It is over now, she is gone to rest, 279

It was not like your great and gracious ways, 194

It was with doubt and trembling, 5

I’ve kissed thee, sweetheart, in a dream at least, 78

I will not let thee go, 31

I will not say my true love’s eyes, 73

I would wed you dear, without gold or gear, 283

Keen winds of cloud and vaporous drift, 74

Kiss me, and say good-bye, 111

Last night my lady talked with me, 57

Lids closed and pale, with parted lips she lay, 300

Lights Love, the timorous bird, to dwell, 13

Listen, bright lady, thy deep Pansie eyes, 80

Lo! in a dream Love came to me and cried, 310

Long are the hours the sun is above, 33

Love had forgotten and gone to sleep, 3

Love in my heart! oh, heart of me, heart of me!, 233

Love in the heart is as a nightingale, 30

Love is a Fire, 4

Love is enough: ho, ye who seek saving, 163

Love is enough: though the World be a-waning, 162

“Love me, or I am slain!” I cried, and meant, 236

Love within the lover’s breast, 156

Men, women, call thee so and so, 79

My days are full of pleasant memories, 11

My lady has a casket cut, 151

My life its secret and its mystery has, 14

My love and I among the mountains strayed, 176

My Love is a lady fair and free, 143

My love is the flaming sword, to fight through, 268

Nay! if thou must depart, thou shalt depart, 8

No girdle hath weaver or goldsmith wrought, 107

Not now, but later, when the road, 213

Not yet, dear love, not yet: the sun is high, 62

Now, by the blessed Paphian queen, 99

Now lay thee down to sleep, and dream of me, 288

Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white, 260

O birds, ’twas not well done of you!, 203

O brown lark, loving cloud-land best, 53

O heart full of song in the sweet song-weather, 188

Oh! faint delicious spring-time violet, 241

Oh, gather me the rose, the rose, 91

Oh, to think, oh, to think as I see her stand there, 72

Oh, when will it be, oh, when will it be, oh, when, 255

Oh, would, oh, would that thou and I, 180

O knight, if thou a lady hast, 85

O Love, Love, Love! O withering might!, 258

O most fair God, O Love both new and old, 199

Once more I walk mid summer days, as one, 147

Passion? not hers who fixed me with pure eyes, 49

Peace in her chamber, wheresoe’er, 227

Play me a march low-toned and slow, 157

Poets are singing, the whole world over, 231

Prince of painters, come, I pray, 211

She went with morning down the wood, 141

Sing on, sing on: half dreaming still, 253

Somewhere or other there must surely be, 226

So sweet, so sweet the roses in their blowing, 205

So you but love me, be it your own way, 133

Such a starved bank of moss, 35

Sullenly fell the rain while under the oak we stood, 105

Sweet as the change from pleasant thoughts, 97

Tell me wher, in what contree, is, 256

That night on Judge’s Walk the wind, 252

The ancient memories buried lie, 196

The breaths of kissing night and day, 265

The broad green rollers lift and glide, 301

The cowslip glowed, the tulip burned, 218

The curtains were half drawn, the floor was swept, 225

The fire is smouldering while the daylight wanes, 55

The lights are out in the street, and a cool wind, 271

The little gate was reached at last, 127

The mavis sang but yesterday, 1

The place again, 124

The rain set early in to-night, 36

There is a certain garden where I know, 137

There is an air for which I would disown, 110

There’s never a rose upon the bush, 220

The restless years that come and go, 178

There were four apples on the bough, 246

The same green hill, the same blue sea, 19

The snow is white on wood and wold, 172

The star of love is trembling in the west, 270

The sun is bright,--the air is clear, 120

The wheel goes round, the wheel goes round, 174

The wind blows down the dusty street, 224

The world goes up and the world goes down, 106

Though the roving bee as lightly, 305

Thou walkest with me as the spirit-light, 28

Thou wilt come back again, but not for me, 126

Through laughing leaves the sunlight comes, 50

Thy shadow, O tardy night, 161

Time with his jealous icy blast, 60

’Tis an old dial, dark with many a stain, 64

Upon that quiet day that lies, 41

Up, up, my heart! up, up, my heart, 39

Vine, vine and eglantine, 261

Waves the soft grass at my feet, 307

We’re all alone, we’re all alone, 237

What days await this woman whose strange feet, 109

What hast thou done to me, 122

What thought is folded in thy leaves, 6

When did the change come, dearest Heart, 145

When fair Hyperion dons his night attire, 149

When God some day shall call my name, 170

When I shall stand before the judgment throne, 86

When lovers’ lips from kissing disunite, 276

When she comes home again! A thousand ways, 223

When spring grows old, and sleepy winds, 267

When the hot wasp hung in the grape last year, 76

When the late leaves lit all the place, 238

When the leaves fall in autumn, and you go, 82

When violets blue begin to blow, 298

Who is it that weeps for the last year’s flowers, 114

With a ripple of leaves and a tinkle of streams, 89

With moon-white hearts that held a gleam, 47

Would God I were the tender apple-blossom, 278

Yes, but the years run circling fleeter, 130

Your carmine flakes of bloom to-night, 42