Myriad Roses, unregretted, perish in their vernal bloom. Not yet, not yet, the light NO. 96 30 97 139 Now Autumn's fire burns slowly along the woods 188 134 O late and sweet, too sweet, too late O life, O death, O world, O time O Lily, with the sun of heaven's O most fair God, O Love both new and old O Summer-time, so passing sweet O wherefore ever onward, Love! O why Oh no! you shall not catch me in the snare Oh roses for the flush of youth 124 129 71 222 215 155 161 27 81 120 Our love is not a fading, earthly flower Passing away, saith the World, passing away Rose kissed me to-day Round the cape of a sudden came the sea Seek not the tree of silkiest bark Shame upon you, Robin She reached a rosebud from the tree Slayer of the winter, art thou here again? 123 136 91 137 202 13 62 43 84 98 46 72 Slips of a kid-skin deftly sewn So, the year's done with! Somewhere or other there must surely be Somewhere there waiteth in this world of ours Spring,-art thou come, O Spring! Stay me no more; the flowers have ceased to blow Sweet dimness of her loosened hair's downfall Sweet! in the flow'ry garland of our love Sweet mouth! O let me take Sweet primrose-time! when thou art here The curtains were half drawn, the floor was swept The mother will not turn, who thinks she hears The pale sun, through the spectral wood The rose said, "Let but this long rain be past The sea awoke at midnight from its sleep The sea is calm to-night The snow upon the rose-flow'r sits The wanton bee that suck'd the rose The waters are rising and flowing The white rose decks the breast of May The world is great: the birds all fly from me The year's at the spring There never yet was flower fair in vain There's a Seer's peak on Ararat, they say To think of thee! it was thy fond request Up to her chamber window Violets, shy violets! Waiting, waiting. 'Tis so far Walled up in sense we know no general plan Warm whispering through the slender olive leaves We have loiter'd and laugh'd in the flowery croft Were I a breath of summer air Were life to last for ever, love What do we here who with reverted eyes What spirit moves the quiring nightingales What matter-what matter-O friend, though the Sea When first the rose-light creeps into my room When first we met we did not guess When I saw you last, Rose When Letty had scarce pass'd her third glad year When the roads are heavy with mire and rut Where are last year's snows Where art thou loveliest, O Nature, tell! Where did you come from, baby dear? Where is another sweet as my sweet Who can determine the frontier of Pleasure? Why do I sing? I know not why, my friend . With all my will, but much against my heart With pipe and flute the rustic Pan With what vain speculations do we slake Wouldst thou not be content to die. Yes! in the sea of life enisled PRINTED BY BALLANTYNE, HANSON AND CO. EDINBURGH AND LONDON, |