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A CITY clerk, but gently born and bred, 152.
Act first, this Earth, a stage so gloom'd with
woe, 812.

Ah God! the petty fools of rhyme, 232.
Airy, fairy Lilian, 6.


All along the valley, stream that flashest white,
Along this glimmering gallery, 875.
Altho' I be the basest of mankind, 83.

And Willy, my eldest born, is gone, you say,
little Anne? 220.

A plague upon the people fell, 232.

Are those the far-famed Victor Hours, 877.
Are you sleeping? have you forgotten? do not
sleep, my sister dear! 540.

A spirit haunts the year's last hours, 12.

A still small voice spake unto me, 30.


A storm was coming, but the winds were still, 373.
As when with downcast eyes we muse and brood,
[lay, 497-
At Flores in the Azores Sir Richard Grenville
At Francis Allen's on the Christmas Eve, 66.
Athelstan King, 523.

A thousand summers ere the time of Christ, 536.
At times our Britain cannot rest, 781.
A Voice spake out of the skies, 867.

BANNER of England, not for a season, O banner
of Britain, hast thou, 509.

Beat, little heart I give you this and this,' 807.
Beautiful city, the centre and crater, 8::.
Below the thunders of the upper deep, 5.
Be thou a-gawin' to the long barn, 756
Bold Havelock marched, 877.
Break, break, break, 121.
[best, 522.
Brooks, for they call'd. you so that knew you
Bury the Great Duke, 212.

CARESS'D or chidden by the slender hand, 25.
Chains, my good lord: in your raised brows I
read, 514.

Clear-headed friend, whose joyful scorn, 8.
Clearly the blue river chimes in its flowing, 3.

Come not, when I am dead, 116.
Come, when no graver cares employ, 229.
Comrades, leave me here a little, while as yet 'tis
early morn, 95.

'Courage!' he said, and pointed toward the
land, 53.

DAGONET, the fool, whom Gawain in his mood,

Dainty little maiden, whither would you wander?
Dead, 559.

Dead Princess, living Power, if that, which lived,

Dear Master in our classic town, 851.

Dear, near and true — no truer Time himself, 235.
Deep on the convent-roof the snows, 107.

Dosn't thou 'ear my 'erse's legs, as they canters
awaäy? 225.

Doubt no longer that the Highest is the wisest
and the best, 868.

Dust are our frames; and, gilded dust, our pride,


EH? good daäy! good daäy! thaw it bean't not
mooch of a daäy, 860.
Elaine the fair, Elaine the lovable, 388.
Eyes not down-dropt nor over-bright, but fed, 6.

FAINT as a climate-changing bird that flies, 783.
Fair is her cottage in its place, 230.
Fair things are slow to fade away, 783.
Farewell, Macready, since to-night we part,

Farewell, whose like on earth I shall not find,


Fifty times the rose has flower'd and faded, 782.
First pledge our Queen this solemn night, 562.
Flow down, cold rivulet, to the sea, 116.
Flower in the crannied wall, 235.

From noiseful arms, and acts of prowess done, 410
Full knee-deep lies the winter snow, 60.

GLORY of warrior, glory of orator, glory of song,

Golden-haired Ally whose name is one with mine,

HAD the fierce ashes of some fiery peak, 853.
Half a league, half a league, 217.
Hallowed be Thy name Halleluiah! 522.
He clasps the crag with crooked hands, 116.
'He is fled-I wish him dead-, 797.
Helen's Tower, here I stand, 561.
Her arms across her breast she laid, 116.
Her, that yer Honour was spakin' to? Whin,
yer Honour? last year, 543-

Here, by this brook, we parted; I to the East, 136.
Here far away, seen from the topmost cliff, 467.
Here, it is here, the close of the year, 232.
He rose at dawn and, fired with hope, 230.
He that only rules by terror, 112.

He thought to quell the stubborn hearts of oak, 25.
Hide me, Mother! my Fathers belong'd to the
church of old, 530.

How long, O God, shall men be ridden dowl., 25.

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O BLACKBIRD! sing me something well, 60.
O bridesmaid, ere the happy knot was tied, 26.
Enone sat within the cave from out, 851.
Of love that never found his earthly close, go.
Of old sat Freedom on the heights, 63.
O God! my God! have mercy now, 3-
O Lady Flora, let me speak, 102.

Old Fitz, who from your suburb grange, 525.
Old poets foster'd under friendlier skies, 565.
O Love, Love, Love! O withering might! 38
O love, what hours were thine and mine, 227.
O loyal to the royal in thyself, 466.

O me, my pleasant rambles by the lake, 81.
O mighty-mouth'd inventor of harmonies, 237-
On a midnight in midwinter when all but the
winds were dead, 865.

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Once in a golden hour, 230.

Once more the gate behind me falls, 86.
Once more the Heavenly Power, 560.
On either side the river lie, 27.

O Patriot Statesman, be thou wise to know, 562.
O plump head-waiter at The Cock, 108.

O purblind race of miserable men, 347.
sweet pale Margaret, 20.

thou so fair in summers gone, 563.
O thou, that sendest out the man, 65.
Our birches yellowing and from each, 556.
Our doctor had call'd in another, I never had
seen him before, 507.
'Ouse-keeper sent tha my lass, fur New Squire
coom'd last night, 504.

Out of the deep, my child, out of the deep, 521.
O well for him whose will is strong. 229.
O you chorus of indolent reviewers, 238.
O young Mariner, 806.

O you that were eyes and light to the King till
he past away, 526.

PELLAM the King, who held and lost with Lot,

Pine, beech and plane, oak, walnut, apricot,

QUEEN GUINEVERE had fled the court, and sat,


RALPH would fight in Edith's sight, 866.
Red of the Dawn! 864.

Revered, beloved-O you that hold, 1.
Roman Virgil, thou that singest, 558.
Rose, on this terrace fifty years ago, 812.
Row us out from Desenzano, to your Sirmione
row! 561.

SEA-KINGS' daughter from over the sea, 218.
Sir, do you see this dagger? nay, why do you
start aside? 859.

Sir Walter Vivian all a summer's day, 161.
Slow sail'd the weary mariners and saw, 14.
So all day long the noise of battle roll'd, 67.
So Hector spake; the Trojans roar'd applause,

So saying, light-foot Iris pass'd away, 525.
So, my lord, the Lady Giovanna, who hath been
away, 746.

So then our good Archbishop Theobald, 676.
'Spring-flowers'! While you still delay to take,


Stand back, keep a clear lane! 566.
Still on the tower stood the vane, 117.
Strong Son of God, immortal Love, 241.
Summer is coming, summer is coming, 812.
Sunset and evening star, 869.

Sweet Emma Moreland of yonder town, 108.

THAT is his portrait painted by himself, 876.
That story which the bold Sir Bedivere, 458.
The bee buzz'd up in the heat, 867.

The brave Geraint, a knight of Arthur's court, 335.
The bridal garland falls upon the bier, 868.
"The Bull, the Fleece are cramm'd and not a
room, 78.

The charge of the gallant three hundred, the
Heavy Brigade! 556.

The form, the form alone is eloquent! 25.

The gleam of household sunshine ends, 867.
The groundflame of the crocus breaks the mould,


The last tall son of Lot and Bellicent, 311.
The lights and shadows fly! 239.

The Lord let the house of a brute to the soul of a
man, 810.

The North wind fall'n in the new-starréd night,

The plain was grassy, wild and bare, 15.
The poet in a golden clime was born, 13.
The rain had fallen, the Poet arose, 121.
There is a sound of thunder afar, 866.
There lies a vale in Ida, lovelier, 39.
There on the top of the down, 851.
These lame hexameters the strong-wing'd music
of Homer! 237.

These roses for my Lady Marian, 814.
These to His Memory since he held them dear,



The Son of him with whom we strove for power,

The sun, the moon, the stars, the seas, the hills

and the plains, 234.

The voice and the Peak, 234.

The winds, as at their hour of birth, 6.

The wind, that beats the mountain, blows, 61.
The woods decay, the woods decay and fall, 94.
They have left the doors ajar; and by their clash,


They rose to where their sovran eagle sails, 523.
They say some foreign powers have laid their
heads together, 877.

They wrought a work which Time reveres, 875.
This morning is the morning of the day, 71.
This thing, that thing is the rage, 867.
Those that of late had fleeted far and fast, 522.
Thou art not steep'd in golden languors, 8.
Thou may'st remember what I said, 873.
Tho' Sin too oft, when smitten by Thy rod, 867.
Thou third great Canning, stand among our best,

Thou who stealest fire, 11.

Thy dark eyes open'd not, 22.
Thy prayer was 'Light- -more Light - while
Time shall last!' 562.

Thy tuwhits are lull'd, I wot, 9.

Two children in two neighbour villages, 18.
Two Suns of Love make day of human life, 563.

ULYSSES, much-experienced man, 802.
Uplift a thousand voices full and sweet, 217.

VEX not thou the poet's mind, 14.
Victor in Drama, Victor in Romance, 523.

WAÄIT till our Sally cooms in, fur thou mun a'
sights to tell, 494.
Wailing, wailing, wailing, the wind over land
and sea, 492.

'Wait a little,' you say, 'you are sure it'll all
come right,' 490.

Wan Sculptor, weepest thou to take the cast, 26.
Warrior of God, man's friend and tyrant's foe, 562.
Warrior of God, whose strong right arm debased,


We left behind the painted buoy, 114.
Welcome, welcome, with one voice! 564.
Well, you shall have that song which Leonard
wrote, 91.

We move, the wheel must always move, 811.
We were two daughters of one race, 43.
What am I doing, you say to me, 'wasting the
sweet summer hours'? 862.

What be those crown'd forms high over the sacred
fountain? 810.

What sight so lured him thro' the fields he knew,

What time the mighty moon was gathering light,


Wheer asta beän saw long and meä liggin' 'ere
aloän? 223.

When cats run home and light is come, 9.
When from the terrors of Nature a people have
fashion'd and worship a Spirit of Evil, 863-
When the breeze of a joyful dawn blew free, 9.
When the dumb Hour, clothed in black, 868.
When will the stream be aweary of flowing, 2.
Where Claribel low-lieth, 2.

Where is one that, born of woman, altogether can
escape, 865.

While about the shore of Mona those Neronian
legionaries, 235.

While man and woman still are incomplete, 8:2
'Whither, O whither, love, shall we go,' 231.
Who would be, 18.

Who would be, 19.

Why wail you, pretty plover? and what is it that
you fear? 798.

Will my tiny spark of being wholly vanish in
your deeps and heights? 868.
With a half-glance upon the sky, 13.
With blackest moss the flower-plots, 7.
With farmer Allan at the farm abode, 75.
With one black shadow at its feet, 29.

You ask me, why, tho' ill at ease, 63.

You make our faults too gross, and thence main-
tain, 812.

You might have won the Poet's name, 120.
You must wake and call me early, call me early,
mother dear, 49.

Young is the grief I entertain, 877.
You, you, if you shall fail to understand, 564.

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Large Crown 8vo, cloth gilt, $1.75. Bound in morocco, extra, $4.00.



"This latest edition of his works, which as a book is every way what a com plete, compact edition should be, and contains the only portrait we have ever seen which does his genius justice." — N. Y. Mail and Express.


Edited by Augustine BirreLL. In two volumes.

"An edition which in every point of excellence will satisfy the most fastidious taste."- Scotsman.


Edited, with Introduction, by J. DYKES CAMPBELL.


"Contains some of the wisest and most melodious verse that this age has pro duced." Athenæum.


Edited by PROFESSOR DOWDEN. With Portrait.


With an Introduction by JOHN MORLEY, and Portrait..

"Mr. Morley has seldom written anything fresher or more vigorous than the essay on Wordsworth which he has prefixed to Macmillan's new and admirable onevolume edition of the poet - the only complete edition." - Spectator.


"The finest of all tributes to the memory of Wordsworth is a complete edition of his poetical works, printed in one volume, and sold at a few shillings. It runs to near a thousand pages, and is all that it need be in type and clearness of arrangeIt stands midway between the éditions de luxe and the cheap typographical renderings of other classics of the English school. In a good binding it would do perfectly well for the library of a millionaire; in serviceable cloth it would make almost a library in itself for the student of humble means. It has a good bibliography of all the poet's writings, a catalogue of biographies, an index of first lines and a complete list of the poems in the order of their production year by year. Above all, it has an introduction from the pen of Mr. John Morley." - Daily News.

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