INDEX OF FIRST LINES. A cloud lay cradled near the setting sun A fragment of a rainbow bright A gold and silver cup A green and silent spot amid the hills A star appeared, and peaceful threw A thing of beauty is a joy for ever. Acquaint thyself with God, if thou wouldst taste All day the low-hung clouds have dropped Another year with promised blessings rise! At night, when all, assembling round the fire Before the stout harvesters falleth the grain But see the fading many-coloured woods But who the melodies of morn can tell? By cool Siloam's shady rill. Child of the Sun! pursue thy rapturous flight Come forth, and let us through our hearts receive Daisies, ye flowers of lowly birth Dark-visaged visitor, who comest here Deep on convent roof the snows Dip down upon the northern shore Earth's children cleave to earth-her frail Fair daffodils, we weep to see. Fair Moon! that at the chilly day's decline Father, Thy hand hath reared these venerable columns Hail, beauteous stranger of the grove! . Here and there rude heaps, that had been cities, clad the ground Here, till return of morn dismissed the farm How dazzling white the snowy scene! deep, deep How fresh, O Lord, how sweet and clean How much of memory dwells amidst thy bloom I come, I come! ye have called me long. I have found violets. April hath come on I loved to walk where none had walked before I praised the earth in beauty seen I saw the woods and fields at close of day It was a lovely morning; all was calm Jasmine! thy fair and star-like flowers with honours should be crowned Knell of departed years Lessons sweet of Spring returning Meanwhile to glad September's dawn Not worlds on worlds in phalanx deep. O Father! Lord! the All-beneficent! I bless Thy name Hemans Longfellow INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 223 Page The billows swell, the winds are high O sacred Providence, who from end to end O Winter, ruler of the inverted year. Red o'er the forest peers the setting sun Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness The angel comes, he comes to reap The cock is crowing George Herbert 166 The day is ending. The gorse is yellow on the heath The lopped tree in time may grow again The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year Bryant 186 The mellow year is hasting to its close Hartley Coleridge 193 The moon is up! How calm and slow. The poetry of earth is never dead The night was Winter in his roughest mood The time draws near the birth of Christ The year doth bind her garland up with thee M. A. Bacon 212 Miss Procter. 174 These as they change, Almighty Father, these They come the merry Summer months of beauty, song, and flowers. Thou first-born of the year's delight . Thou hast thy beauties: sterner ones I own 'Tis done! dread Winter spreads his latest glooms Under the green hedges after the snow. Welcome, O pure and lovely forms, again When Spring unlocks the flowers to paint the When Winter winds are piercing chill Where are the swallows fled? Whither, midst falling dew Why comes this fragrance on the Summer breeze Ye field flowers! the gardens eclipse you, 'tis true Yet one smile more, departing, distant sun! Heber. Thomas Davis Campbell. PROSE EXTRACTS 60 5# 83 53 "The Spectator" (On Gladness in Spring) "The Complete Angler" ("The time of the singing of birds is come") "The Complete Angler" (An Evening in May) ogies). "Chapters on Flowers" (Garden Thoughts) "The Church and the Nation" (Lessons of Autumn) 66 the dying Gipsy) Kavanagh" (Autumnal Beauty) Pages from my Note-book" (November Bonfires). Long fellow 92 Charlotte Elizabeth LONDON R. CLAY, SON, AND TAYLOR, PRINTERS, BREAD STREET HILL. |