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Alfred Tennyson angels AULD ROBIN GRAY awoke from sleep Bayard Taylor beautiful BELLS OF SHANDON binding shoes Bingen birds blessed blest Bobbett bonnie lassie breast brow bucket calm Charlie's sake cheek chestnut rails cold dark dead dear deep deir dost dream Edward eyes fair father flowers frae Francis Mahony grave grief hair hand Hannah hath heard heart heaven hinnied Jamie Jean Jeanie Morrison John Anderson kiss knee kye come hame lay asleep Leal light lips look Macdonough Anthony maiden mair Mary MAUD MULLER Mearianne mither moon morning MORNING-GLORY mother never night o'er old familiar faces old oaken bucket quhat wul remember Rhine river Lee round sail shine silent sing smile snow song sorrow sweet tears tell thee There's thine Thomas Hood thou thought tree Twas W. J. Linton wean weary WEEL BEFA weep Willie zour
Page 47 - WITH deep affection And recollection I often think of Those Shandon bells, Whose sounds so wild would, In the days of childhood, Fling round my cradle Their magic spells. On this I ponder Where'er I wander, And thus grow fonder, Sweet Cork, of thee, — With thy bells of Shandon, That sound so grand on The pleasant waters Of the river Lee.
Page 170 - Sweet and low, sweet and low, Wind of the western sea, Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea ! Over the rolling waters go, Come from the dying moon, and blow, Blow him again to me; While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps. Sleep and rest, sleep and rest, Father will come to thee soon...
Page 99 - It might have been.' Alas for maiden, alas for Judge, For rich repiner and household drudge ! God pity them both ! and pity us all, Who vainly the dreams of youth recall. For of all sad words of tongue or pen, The saddest are these :
Page 29 - SHE dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A Maid whom there were none to praise, And very few to love. A Violet by a mossy stone Half-hidden from the eye ! — Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky.
Page 166 - They are only one times one. 0 moon ! in the night I have seen you sailing And shining so round and low ; You were bright ! ah bright ! but your light is failing — You are nothing now but a bow. You moon, have you done something wrong in heaven That God has hidden your face ? 1 hope if you have you will soon be forgiven, And shine again in your place.
Page 92 - Muller, on a summer's day, Raked the meadow sweet with hay. Beneath her torn hat glowed the wealth Of simple beauty and rustic health. Singing, she wrought, and her merry glee The mock-bird echoed from his tree. But, when she glanced to the far-off town, White from its hill-slope looking down, The sweet song died, and a vague unrest And a nameless longing filled her breast — A wish that she hardly dared to own, For something better than she had known.
Page 143 - Woodman, spare that tree ! Touch not a single bough ! In youth it sheltered me, And I'll protect it now. 'Twas my forefather's hand That placed it near his cot; There, woodman, let it stand, Thy axe shall harm it not. That old familiar tree, Whose glory and renown Are spread o'er land and sea — And wouldst thou hew it down? Woodman, forbear thy stroke! Cut not its earth-bound ties...
Page 14 - John Anderson my jo. John Anderson my jo, John, We clamb the hill thegither ; And mony a canty day, John, We've had wi' ane anither : Now we maun totter down, John, But hand in hand we'll go, And sleep thegither at the foot, John Anderson my jo.