SONNETS OF THREE CENTURIES SONNETS OF T H R E E CENTURIES: A SELECTION INCLUDING MANY EXAMPLES HITHERTO EDITED BY T. H A L L UNPUBLISHED. CAINE, LONDON: ELLIOT STOCK, 62 PATERNOSTER ROW. 1882. G/2J CONTENTS. PAGE PREFACE, vii i TABLE OF AUTHORS AND TITLES, XXV SONNETS, I NOTES INDEX IN METRICAL GROUPS, 269 . METRICAL FORMS IN EARLY ITALIAN POETS, . 321 • 330 PREFACE. jlT will readily be seen that the plan of this book is unlike anything hitherto adopted in any similar anthology. T h e aim has been to represent within the limits of a quintessential selection the whole body of native sonnet literature down to our own time. T h o s e who know the subject will perceive that numbers of inedited examples have been collected from obscure sources. It will be seen that as many as a dozen sonnet-writers, who have never before been omitted from a volume of this kind, have not found a place within these pages ; but it cannot escape observation that fully forty poets, in the course of the three centuries compassed by the compilation, have here for the first time been included. By the kindness of living poets of established rank it has also been possible very greatly to enhance the interest of the collection, by the addition of a body of sonnets never hitherto published. For this exceptional attraction gratitude from the editor to those who have afforded him disinterested help is due. T h e primary purpose has been to make a representative selection such as may afford a complete view of the history and viii PREFACE. growth of a form of verse now much in favour and requisition ; and especially, by a liberal and impartial selection from the sonnets of contemporary writers, of every style and school, to show clearly what is now the character of the sonnet in the present stage of our literature. Metrical and chronological indices, and historical, explanatory, and analytical notes, will be found appended to the volume, and these, together with the textual rendering and arrangement adopted, may prove helpful in the way of critical elucidation. But it is hoped that the book may be acceptable not only to students of the sonnet, but to all lovers of whatever is beautiful in English sonnet poetry. T o this end an endeavour has been made to secure as much variety in subject-matter as seemed consistent with a selection whereof the first elective test required that each example have intrinsic v a l u e ; and to bring together within reasonable.limits as many pieces as by contrast appeared to illustrate the methods of different masters in the treatment of similar themes. All systematic collocation of kindred examples must, however, remain with the reader as a task. T h e arrangement adopted in this volume is of necessity purely chronological. I t were scarcely rash to hope that a book compiled upon principles so catholic and from sources so inexhaustible, can hardly be opened on any page of the text without being found to contain something able to lighten and beguile the moments of all to whom English poetry is anything. But while the sonnets are so chosen as to appeal to a wide circle, it cannot be expected that the remainder of this preface will be found interesting to more than a few readers \ yet to the limited company addressed PREFACE, IX the matter dealt with must be one of enduring moment. It constitutes an argument going to show the legitimacy and purity of the English sonnet, as against the allegation that our sonnet literature is a bastard outcome of the Italian. W e hear it so constantly asserted that the sonnet in England is a naturalised form of verse, that we seem to have begun to grant the statement an unquestioning assent. As a result of this, we are compelled to resort to specious expedients by way of explanation when we find ourselves face to face with the great body of English sonnets, and perceive that only a small proportion bears an affinity to what is accepted as the original code. Of course the error involved comes of begging the question, and only requires to be challenged to succumb. Thereupon, it is seen that in the sonnet our literature possesses of its own right a species of poetry as beautiful and perfect as indigenous. T h e facts are well known and easily traversed. T h e word SONNET (literally a little strain) was first employed by the very early Italian writers to denote simply a short poem limited to the exposition of a single idea, sentiment, or emotion ; two notable instances in point occur in Dante's Vita Nuova.1 Gradually it became confined in its application to a lyric of fourteen lines, constructed variously as to scheme of rhyme, and subject to no arbitrary rules as to development of thought. Finally, the name 1 In Petrarch it may be noted that there occur among the sonnets some exceptional pieces of fourteen lines, which he, presumably, would have classed as sonnets, but which are of the Ballata character. A more minute reference to such points in Petrarch and earlier Italian poets will be found in the indices of forms. X PREFACE. became exclusively associated with a forrrj, of verse affording a prescribed presentment of idea and metre. Now, when the word SONNET was first employed in England, it was used in its simple sense, and there seems to be some difficulty in discovering at, what period it ceased to bear its literal application. It is true that Sir Thomas Wyat, upon returning from Italy, wrote a few poems, apparently in imitation of certain features of the method of Petrarch, and to these the name of Sonnets was attached. The following is the most notable example :— Farewell, Love, and all thy laws for ever ! Thy baited hooks shall tangle me no more : Senec and Plato call me from thy lore T o perfect wealth my wit for to endeavour. In blind error when I did persever, Thy sharp repulse, that pricketh aye so sore, Taught me in trifles that I set no store; But 'scaped forth thence, since, liberty is lever. Therefore, farewell! go trouble younger hearts, And in me claim no more authority: With idle youth go use thy property, And thereon spend thy many brittle darts ; For hitherto though I have lost my time, Me list no longer rotten boughs to climb. But no definite direction appears to have been given to sonnet literature by this partial imitation of Italian models. Contemporaneously with Wyat, the Earl of Surrey produced poems constructed upon the model subsequently known as Shakspearean; and, following Surrey, Spenser wrote a series similar in scheme PREFACE. XI and scope, but with a variation in the arrangement of rhymes. Meantime, poems characterised by measureless variety of structure were by these poets and their contemporaries denominated sonnets. Down to Spenser, therefore, no deliberative effort appears to have been made to naturalise any specific form of the Italian sonnet, and hence the limitation sometimes observed as to number and length of lines must have been accepted merely for disciplinarian purposes, in order to curb the insatiate demand for room, which was then, as it is now, the mark of a restless intellect. No consistent or sustained endeavour was made to obey the approved Italian code as to structure, and this, probably, was because the genius of our language did not demand such obedience. The rule which Petrarch had established of at least four different rhyme-sounds in the sonnet may have seemed to the early English sonnet-writers, as it did afterwards to Coleridge, to have arisen from the desire the Italians had to have as many as four rhymes within a space in which there might naturally occur no more than two, inasmuch as the great and grievous defect of their language is a sameness in the final sound of its words. In the choice of a more varied rhymescheme the English poets may indeed have been influenced by a belief that it would be ridiculous to make the defect of a foreign language a reason for their not availing themselves of a marked excellency of their own. Apart, however, from all regard for structural divergence, we have merely to set side by side the intellectual plotting of a sonnet by Petrarch and that of a sonnet by Spenser, to see clearly that this form of verse in England is a distinct growth. In the one we perceive a conscious centralisa- xii PREFACE. /tion of some idea systematically subdivided, with each of its parjs allotted a distinctive place, so that to dislodge anything would be to destroy the whole. In the other we recognise a facet of an idea or sentiment so presented as to work up from concrete figure to abstract application. The one constitutes a rounded unity, the other is a development; the one is thrown off at the point at which it has become quintessential and a thing in itself, the other is still in process of evolution. W e require clearly to see first that the very early Italians themselves sometimes (though rarely) used the term SONNET in all its literal breadth of application, and next, that the first English writers who appropriated the name made no conscious effort of consequence to imitate the more approved archetypal pattern, before we approach the sonnets of Shakspeare in a temper that permits us to perceive wherein they constitute a native outcome of unsurpassable excellence and unimpeachable purity. A peculiar adaptability of language to vehicle is then seen to establish for the Shakspearean model the character of a perfect English sonnet. The metrical structure is plainly determined by the intellectual modelling. Let us therefore set ourselves to consider what constitutes the function the Shakspearean sonnet fulfils. The thing that first strikes us is that the thought, as a whole, is of the nature of an applied symbol. Then we see that it does not in the English, as in the Italian form, fall asunder like the acorn into unequal parts of a perfect organism, but is sustained without break until it reaches a point at which a personal appropriation needs to be made. Finally, we perceive that the ultimate application (which was also the primary purpose) PREFACE. xni consolidates the thought, and gives it a separate and unified entity. W e obtain a full view of this by careful analysis of any representative example. Let us examine the intellectual, emotional, and metrical structure of the sonnet on lust: — T h e expense of spirit in a waste of shame Is lust in action; and till action, lust Is perjured, murderous, bloody, full of blame, Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust; Enjoyed no sooner but despised straight; Past reason hunted; and no sooner had, Past reason hated, as a swallowed bait On purpose laid to make the taker mad : Mad in pursuit, and in possession so; Had, having, and in quest to have, extreme; A bliss in,proof, and proved, a very woe; Before, a joy proposed ; behind, a dream. All this the world well knows \ yet none knows well T o shun the heaven that leads men to this hell. First seizing the representative points of a noble idea, Shakspeare in this sonnet goes on from line to line begetting thought out of thought, kindling image out of image; yet the whole gravitates about a central scheme, and the meaning is all inwoven. Here there is no distinct plotting of thought, no systematic placing of proportionated ideas, no building up to definite point other than that indicated at the outset. Where, at the ninth line, the. thought appears to take a fresh departure such as is nearly always observable in sonnets by Petrarch, it is XIV PREFACE. really doing no more than evolve a new aspect" out of the old one. Clearly there is no other form of verse that could have been made to serve so well the uses herein compassed. T h e stanza did not exist that could have embraced the whole business of the first twelve lines. T h e nature of the thought and its method of development (covering the growth of the idea from prologue to epilogue) forbade attempt at rounded unity of presentment. It made demand of a measure linking passage to passage, not compelling a focused centralisation whereof the first word should foretell the last. A succession of decasyllabic couplets kneaded in Shakspeare's hands would doubtless have answered a similar end, but it is proof of the purity and perfectness of the Shakspearean sonnet that couplets could not have been employed. By their use the emphasis and rest of the closejwrould have been sacrificed. N o form, obviously, but that of three interlacing English quatrains of alternate-rhyming lines followed, after a pause, by a couplet, could have afforded an adequate realisation of the English idea embodied. So absolutely is this so of a representative sonnet, that it were hardly rash to say that the sonnet by Shakspeare does not exist in which the structure of thought would allow* of Petrarchian treatment. T h e reason is not far to seek. T h e mind of the Italian poet was wont to hold itself at poisfe above a thought, revolving it inwardly until the primary uncertain outlines took consistent shape and craved balanced utterance. ! T h e mind of the English poet seized as they arose the thronging hints of an idea, and cast them forth one after one in the first beauty of conception, and knitted them into harmonious theme only in a final word of condensed appli- PREFACE. .xv cation. And what is true of Petrarch is true of the bias of the whole Italian intellect; and what is true of Shakspeare is true of the bias of the whole English intellect. Hence the Shakspearean sonnet is distinctly the sonnet of the English mind and tongue, and must not be regarded as metrically an irregular outcome of the Petrarchian sonnet, to which, as we see, it bears not the remotest affinity of intellectual design. T h e relative excellence of the two models involves other considerations. All that is now necessary to establish is that the Shakspearean sonnet is wholly indigenous and, within itself, entirely pure. A glance at the metrical indices which may be found at the close of this volume will readily show how desirable it is to redeem our sonnet literature from the unmerited reproach of illegitimacy* Therein it will be seen that a great body of English sonnets are cast in the English form with which Shakspeare*s name is associated, and that many of the noblest extant examples could not exist apart from it. The variation in the scheme of rhyme is the least point of divergence from the archetypal pattern, and seems to have been rendered necessary equally by the paucity of rhyme-words in our language and by the essential difference in the intellectual structure adopted. T h e radical distinction lies in the building of the thought, and this justifies all lesser differences. And now that we have at least challenged an error of critical verdict relating to Shakspeare, it seems necessary to make effort to disturb an error of ascription concerning Milton. It is not more frequently maintained that the sonnets of the one are irregular, than that those of the other are perfect examples designed to vindicate the possibilities of the Italian sonnet in English* XVI PREFACE. In saying that Milton's sonnet work signalised a return to the original code, we have hitherto been led astray by cursory observation of the mere arrangement of his rhymes. Milton's sonnets, like Shakspeare's, are essentially English in all that constitutes their fundamental character. Points of departure from the primary English structure, however, Milton did initiate, and the full sum of gain and loss involved may be seen by technical analysis of that most memorable utterance which concentrates the varied excellences and defects of his sonnet muse. Avenge, O Lord, thy slaughtered saints, whose bones Lie scattered on the Alpine mountains cold ; Even them who kept thy truth so pure of old, When all our fathers worshipped stocks and stones, Forget.not: in thy book record their groans Who were thy sheep, and in their ancient fold Slain by the bloody Piemontese, that rolled Mother with infant down the rocks. Their moans T h e vales redoubled to the hills, and they T o Heaven. Their martyred blood and ashes sow O'er all the Italian fields, where still doth sway T h e triple Tyrant; and from these may grow A hundredfold, who having learnt thy way, Early may fly the Babylonian woe. Setting aside the august conception generated by this majestic invocation, and addressing ourselves dispassionately to the observation of its artistic qualities, we first perceive that the rhyme scheme of the sonnet yields obedience to the rigid Petrarchian PREFACE. xvn rule, demanding four different sounds. Beyond this no canon of art peculiar to the approved Italian pattern has been regarded. Indeed the essential part of the code has been violated. But what is the value of the concession ? Are the potentialities of the Italian sonnet in our language triumphantly displayed ? Surely not so. Milton wrote no more than eighteen English sonnets, and were they all faultless examples, being so few, the possibilities of the original structure would not be assured. When a great poet, following in his steps, made effort to imitate his form of sonnet, the all but insurmountable difficulty of doing so continuously and under every condition of impulse became apparent. After a single experimental effort, Wordsworth's early sonnets were in all respects counterparts to Milton's, but the great body of his later sonnet writings display a preponderating percentage which must be pronounced irregular if judged of by Milton's standard. Nor can the few examples Milton himself achieved be considered free from marks of the mischief induced by working in unwonted fetters. T h e grievous technical blemish of the sonnet just quoted is, that the vowel sounds of the rhyme words are throughout uniform, and that, consequently, the sensitive ear is from first to last deprived of the grateful sense of flow and ebb of melody which the alternate open and close vowels afford. Moreover, that Milton never made conscious endeavour to imitate the Petrarchian model becomes apparent by observation of his Italian sonnets, for in them the rhyme arrangement, though usually accurate at the beginning, is invariably faulty at the end. Whilst similar to the English examples in intellectual design, they are all, except- xvm PREFACE. ing two, yet nearer akin to the native form in closing with a couplet. The essential point of .Milton's departure from the original code, however, is of more consequence than mere technical divergence, and lies in the radical structure of his sonnet-thought. A metrical subdivision into octave and sestet he certainly observes, and in this particular gravitates by force of instinct towards the method of the Italian poets, but no corresponding or answering intellectual and emotional subdivision is in his work ever aimed at. Octave flows into sestet without break of music or thought, which are sustained in one long breath from the first syllable to the last. This circumstance should itself serve as a satisfying refutation of those writers who, without reflection, go on asserting time after time that the potentialities of the Italian structure in English were by Milton first signalised and maintained. The clear truth that certain earlier poets who wrote exclusively in the Shakspearean form came, consciously or unconsciously, into closer accord with the canon requiring a subdivision of thought and melody, may be seen by setting side by side with the sonnet by Milton, already quoted, the following by Drayton, on lovers parting :— Since there's no help, come let us kiss and part,— Nay I have done, you get no more of me \ And I am glad, yea, glad with all my heart, That thus so cleanly I myself can free ; Shake hands for ever—cancel all our vows— And when we meet at any time again, Be it not seen in either of our brows That we one jot of former love retain. PREFACE, xix Now at the last gasp of Love's latest breath, When, his pulse failing, Passion speechless lies, When Faith is kneeling by his bed of death, And Innocence is closing up his eyes,— Now if thou would'st, when all have given him over, From death to life thou might'st him yet recover. Here are seen two facets of a sentiment, each as distinct from the other as the unequal parts of an acorn, and yet as indissolubly united beneath the amalgamating shell of a single, rounded, and perfected conception. Drayton never repeated the scheme, nor is it certain that any Shakspearean sonnet-writer consciously employed it, and the example is quoted in this connection with no other purpose than to show that so far from imitating the foreign model, Milton was behind other poets in appropriation of its salient feature of design, and thus to disturb the popular ascription to Milton of a desire deliberately to vindicate the Italian sonnet in England. What may with unerring accuracy be ascribed to Milton is a desire to vindicate the English sonnet in England. His method of thought is such as has ever been native in our literature. Notwithstanding the rhetorical element interfused, his sonnet work has little in common with that of the poets who approached this form of verse fresh from the schools of the rhetoricians. Milton is throughout faithful to his English intellect, and his sonnets are, in the main, such as Shakspeare himself might have conceived, less much wealth of symbolic invention, and with an added weight and mass of diction. In tracing, therefore, the development of the sonnet in our language, what remains to be XX tabulated as Milton's rhyme which, in the sweep of music, an effort after singleness PREFACE, ultimate contribution is an artangement of hands of a master, lends itself to a mighty abandonment of all point and climax, an of effect. W i t h i n the lines of Shakspeare and of Milton all foremost sonnet-writers down to our own day have been content to w o r k : on the one hand, Drayton, Coleridge, Hood, W . C. Roscoe, T e n n y s o n - T u r n e r ; on the other, Wordsworth and Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Keats, indeed, who employed both English methods, seemed scarcely satisfied with either, and produced examples that unite certain of the cardinal virtues of each. And now in our time the English sonnet has taken a new direction, acquired an enlarged significance, a broader mission; and to such circumstance is clearly due the marked preference for this vehicle which has been shown by some poets whose vocation does not appear primarily to lie within the domain of verse requiring before all things emphasis and condensation. W h e n we set ourselves to investigate the developed type, we perceive that in the main it; constitutes a return to the Petrarchian pattern, prompted, however, by other purposes, and achieving other results. Its governing constituents may be speedily traversed. T h e quality that gave vividness and pungency to the Shakspearean sonnet was, that in the closing couplet the subject was capable of rising to a climax; the defect of the form lay in the tendency of the two last lines to produce the dubious effect of repercussion. T h e conspicuous beauty of the Miltonic form has been well described by Sir Henry Taylor as the absence of point in the evolution of the idea, whose peculiar PREFACE. xxi charm lay in its being thrown off like a rocket, breaking into light and falling in a soft shower of brightness. The characteristic excellence of the contemporary type is distinct from both of these. Its merit and promise of enduring popularity consist in its being grounded in a fixed law of nature. The natural phenomenon it reproduces is the familiar one of the flow and ebb of a wave of the sea. The properties of the new model are illustrated in a sonnet by Mr. Theodore Watts, in which scholastic definition is happily blended with poetic fervour. THE SONNET'S VOICE. A M E T R I C A L LESSON BY T H E S E A - S H O R E . Yon silvery billows breaking on the beach Fall back in foam beneath the star-shine clear, The while my rhymes are murmuring in your ear A restless lore like that the billows teach \ For on these sonnet-waves my soul would reach From its own depths, and rest within you, dear, As, through the billowy voices yearning here Great Nature strives to find a human speech. A sonnet is a wave of melody : From heaving waters of the impassioned soul A billow of tidal music one and whole Flows in the c octave'; then, returning free, Its ebbing surges in the c sestet' roll Back to the deeps of Life's tumultuous sea,1 1 The Athenawn, September 17th, 1881. xxii PREFACE. Here it is seen that the c sonnet-wave '—twofold in quality as well as movement—-embraces flow and ebb of thought or sentiment, and flow and ebb of music. For the perfecting of a poem on this pattern the primary necessity, therefore, is, that the thought chosen be such as falls naturally into unequal parts, each essential to each, and the one answering the other. The first and fundamental part shall have unity of sound no less than unity of emotion, while in the second part the sonnet shall assume a freedom of metrical movement analogous to the lawless ebb of a returning billow. The sonnet-writer who has capacity for this structure may be known by his choice of theme. Instinctively or consciously he alights on subjects that afford this flow and ebb of emotion; Nor does he fail to find in every impulse animating his muse something that corresponds with the law of movement that governs the sea. W e might instance Wordsworth's sonnet c On the Extinction of the Venetian Republic,' and his c It is a Beauteous Evening,' Keats's c Chapman's Homer,' Leigh Hunt's c Nile,' and amongst the sonnets of contemporary poets, W . B. Scott's c Universe Void,' M. Arnold's 'Worldly Place,' D. G. Rossetti's ' Stillborn Love' and c Lost Days,' A. C. Swinburne's c Let us go forth,' Mathilde Blind's ' The Dead,' E. W . Gosse's < Sophocles,' P. B. Marston's c Desolate,' J. Payne's c On Vaughan's Sacred Poems,' J. A. Symorids's c T o the Genius of Eternal Slumber,' E. Dowden's c The Singer.' All this seems to signalise a return to the Petrarchian pattern, but is nevertheless indicative of a fuller development of the English model. T h e difference is radical. T h e Italian form demands two parts to PREFACE. xxni the sonnet-thought, but they are as the two parts of an acorn ; the later English form requires also two sides to the sorinetthought, but they are as the two movements of a wave. In the one, the parts are separate and contrasted, yet united; in the other, they are blended, the same in substance, distinct only in movement. It is little to the purpose to maintain that the poets themselves in both languages may remain unconscious of such purposes as we here ascribe to them, that they are merely sensible of having something to say and of saying it by the vehicle that comes nearest to their hand. If this were a fact out of doubt, the accuracy of the analysis would remain undisturbed. What is wholly assured is, that the bias of the Italian mind inclines in the one direction, while the bias of the English mind inclines in the other. And to a sonnet-thought that is in itself musical, it is but right there should be added a musical setting. Indeed, the one must put the other in motion. What we call the octave shall, therefore, as representing the flow of the wave, bring a slow swell of melody; and the sestet, as representing the ebb, a quicker and shorter beat. Each, doubtless, is best when standing apart as a separate stanza; and each stanza best when compassing an unbroken flood of harmony. In English, however, it is not always possible to achieve so much without injury to the fundamental quality of thought, nor would it always in a series (where variety is an added grace) be desirable even if feasible. Here again we encounter the difficulty which comes of the poverty of our language in rhymes. Beyond question, the use of two rhymes only in the octave is, other things being equal, d PREFACE. XXIV a perfection to aim after, because it sustains the expectation of the ear at points of the stanza where it would fain (but should not) seek rest. Nevertheless, the use of three rhymes cannot be considered even musically a blemish, for it is matter for doubt if the most sensitive ear is ever conscious of a disturbing influence when the sixth and seventh lines are rhymed separately from the second and-third. Indeed, within broad governing limits it may be said to be consistent with the contemporary type of sonnet to adopt whatever rhyme-arrangement may be made to convey a sensible effect as of the forward roll and backward break of a wave of the sea. Only an absolute mastery, however, can be said to warrant any but the least important variation from the metrical structure adopted in the sonnet quoted. T o abandon, in a final word, the impersonal tone of my preface, I may perhaps say I hope I have been able to apply the solvent of a little personal thought to one theory with which we have long been sated. That the English sonnet is a bastard outcome of the Italian has been for no few years the constant imputation. I trust the reproach is in some measure removed. T . H. C. VALE OF S T . JOHN, CUMBERLAND, 1881. A U T H O R S AND T I T L E S . Sonnets marked % are now first printed. ALDRICH, THOMAS BAILEY. * When to soft sleep we give ourselves away,' 204 ALFORD, H E N R Y (1810-1871). Easter Eve, . . . . ' Rise, said the Master, come unto the feast,' ARNOLD, M A T T H E W . East and West, East London, Worldly Place, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . BAILEY, P H I L I P JAMES. Dedication to Festus, BARLOW, GEORGE. * England, . . . BLACKIE, J O H N STUART. Highland Solitude, * The Origin of Evil, No. I., * Do., No. I I . , BLANCHARD, SAMUEL LAM AN (1804-1845). Hidden Joys, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . B L I N D , MATHILDE. * Time's Shadow, The Dead, BLUNT, W I L F R I D (' PROTEUS '). The Triumph of Love, BOKER, GEORGE H . (1823- To England, . ). 143 xxvi AUTHORS AND TITLES. * PAGE BOWLES, W I L L I A M L I S L E (1762-1850). ' O Time ! who know'st a lenient hand to lay,' . . . . . 53 BRIGHT, HENRY ARTHUR. * To Longfellow in England, 1868, . . 200 BROWN, OLIVER MADOX (1855-1874). ' No more these passion-worn faces shall men's eyes,' . . 260 BROWNE, W I L L I A M (1588-1643). ' Fairest, when by the rules of palmistry,' . . . 38 BROWNING, ELIZABETH BARRETT (1809-1861). Perplexed Music, . . . . . Sonnets from the Portuguese— 'Beloved, my Beloved, when I think,'. . ' If I leave all for thee, wilt thou exchange,' . ' If thou must love me, let it be for nought,' . ' I never gave a lock of hair away,' . . Tears, . . . . . . The Soul's Expression, . . . . Work, . . . . . . . . . 1 3 0 . . . . . . . . 135 . 1 3 6 133 . 1 3 4 . 1 3 1 . 1 2 9 132 BRYANT, W I L L I A M CULLEN (1794-1878). November, . . . . . . . 9 1 BRYDGES, S I R SAMUEL EGERTON (1762-1837). . On Echo and Silence, . . . . . . 52 . . . . . . 203 BUCHANAN, ROBERT. Motion of the Mists, BURNS, ROBERT (1759-1796). On hearing a Thrush sing, . . . . . . . . ' Muses that sing Love's sensual empery,' . 319 BYRON, LORD (1788-1824). Chillon, . . . . 8 1 CHAPMAN, GEORGE (1577-1634). . . 8 CLARE, J O H N (1793-1864). First sight of Spring, The Happy Bird, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8 $8 9 CLARKE, H E R B E R T E. * The Past Dethroned, . . . . 2 1 6 A UTHORS AND TITLES. xxvii PAGE COLERIDGE H A R T L E Y ( I 796-1849). 306 * Ambleside Fair, 1845, . . . . ' If I have sinned in act, I may repent,' . ' Long time a child, and still a child, when years,' Night, * * Oh, when I have a sovereign in my pocket,' Prayer, . . . . . . * What was't awakened first the untried ear,' 105 107 104 305 106 103 COLERIDGE, SAMUEL TAYLOR (1772-1834). c Oh it is pleasant, with a heart at ease/ . On a Ruined House in a Romantic Country, ' Pensive, at eve, on the hard world I mus'd,' To Simplicity, . . . . 66 67 292 289 COWPER, W I L L I A M (1731-1800). To Mary Unwin, . . . . . . . 49 D A N I E L , SAMUEL (J562-1619). ' Care-charmer Sleep, son of the sable Night,' . . . . 9 . . . . . 2 1 5 . 2 1 6 . 246 DAVIES, W I L L I A M . Golden Moments, The Stricken Deer, . . . . . . DENNIS, JOHN. Life, . . . . . . . D E V E R E , S I R AUBREY (1788-1846). The Man of Glencoe, The Rock of Cashel, . . . . . . . . . . . . 80 79 D E V E R E , AUBREY. ' Count each affliction, whether light or grave,' . * For we the mighty mountain plains have t r o d / * In memory of Sir William Rowan Hamilton, . . . . . 1 5 2 . 153 . 1 5 4 . . . 3 0 8 . 1 1 5 DISRAELI, BENJAMIN (LORD BEACONSFIELD), (1805-1881). On the Portrait of the Lady Mahon, 1839, Wellington, . . . . . . D I X O N , RICHARD WATSON. ' Give me the darkest corner of a cloud,' . Humanity, . . . . . * P erished Ideals, . . . . . . . . . . . 196 197 195 A UTHORS xxviii AND TITLES. DOBELL, SYDNEY (1824-1874). The Army Surgeon, The Common Grave, . . . . . . . DOESON, A U S T I N . * Don Quixote, . . DONNE, J O H N (1573-1631). ' A s due by many titles, I resign,' * At the round earth's imagined corners blow,' ' Death, be not proud, though some have called thee/ DOUBLEDAY, THOMAS (179O-1870). Angling, . • . DOWDEN, EDWARD. * Salome (a picture, by Henri Regnault), Seeking God, . . . * The Divining Rod, . . . . . DRAYTON, M I C H A E L (1563-1631). * Dear, why should you command me to my rest,' ' How many paltry, foolish, painted things,' * Since there's no help, come let us kiss and part/ DRUMMOND, W I L L I A M (1585-1649). * Ah ! burning thoughts, now let me take some rest,' * If crost with all mishaps be my poor life,' The Book of the World, . . . . The Golden Age, . . . To Sleep, . EARLE, J O H N . Dante, . . . . . . ' E L I O T , G E O R G E ' (1819?-1880). Brother and Sister, • . . .; . . . ELLIOT, LADY CHARLOTTE. Faith in Doubt, . ELLIOTT, EBENEZER (1781-1849). Fountains Abbey, F A N E , J U L I A N (1827-1870). Ad Matrem, . . GARNETT, RICHARD. Garibaldi's Retirement, . . . «I will not rail, or grieve when torpid eld, * . AUTHORS AND TITLES. XXIX GOSSE, E D M U N D W. The Pipe-player, . * A Portrait, . * Importunity, . * On Certain Critics, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 249 . 2 5 1 250 252 . . . . . . GRAY, D A V I D (1838-1861). ' Sweet Mavis ! at this cool delicious hour,' . . . 2 1 1 . . . 48 . . . 146 . . . . . . . 1 4 4 . 1 4 5 . . GRAY, THOMAS (1716-1771). On the Death of Richard West, . . HALLAM, A R T H U R H E N R Y (1811-1833). 'The garden trees are busy with the shower,' H A N M E R , J O H N , LORD (1810-1881). Melancholy, . The Pine Woods, . . . . HEMANS, FELICIA DOROTHEA (1794-1835). On a Remembered Picture of Christ, . . 92 H E R B E R T , GEORGE (1593-1633). Sin > 39 H O O D , THOMAS (1798-1845). Death, Silence, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 109 108 HOSMER, W. H . C. Night, ' . . . 3 0 3 HOUGHTON, LORD. Happiness (I.), . Happiness (II.), . . . . . . . . , . • . *37 138 H U E F F E R , FRANCIS, * ' It was the hour before the Sun divideth,' 242 H U N T , L E I G H (1784-1859). The Nile, . . . . To the Grasshopper and the Cricket, . . . . . . - 7 6 - 7 5 . . . . . . . . IRVING, EDWARD (1792-1834). To the Memory of Samuel Martin, 8 6 I R W I N , H . C. * A Day's Ride, a Life's Analogy (I.), * Do. do. (II.), . . . . 247 248 AUTHORS AND TITLES. XXX J O N E S , EBENEZER (1820-1860). High Summer, . . . . . 157 * Bright star ! would I were steadfast as thou art, On a Dream, On First looking into Chapman's Homer, On the Elgin Marbles, To , . . . . To Sleep, . . . . To the Nile, To Homer, * Why did I laugh to-night? no voice will tell,' 100 KEATS, J O H N (1795-1821). 97 93 95 96 98 294 94 99 KEBLE, J O H N (1792-1866). Spring Flowers, . . . . . 87 KEMBLE, FRANCES A N N E . ' Art thou already weary of the way ?' 151 KNOX, H O N . M R S . O. N. ' I have no wealth of grief; no sobs, no tears,' . 177 LAMB, CHARLES (1775-1834). ' A timid grace sits trembling in her eye/ Work, 70 69 LANG, A N D R E W , The Odyssey, . . . . . 241 . . 118 117 116 LONGFELLOW, H E N R Y WADSWORTH. Nature, . . . The Burial of the Poet, . The Old Bridge at Florence, . . . . . LOWELL, JAMES RUSSELL. The Street, . . . . . 156 . . . . 192 LYTTON, ROBERT E A R L OF. Public Opinion, . MAC DONALD, GEORGE., 'Ah, God ! the world needs many hours to make,' 165 AUTHORS AND TITLES. XXXI MARSTON, P H I L I P BOURKE. * In Early Spring, . * Least Love, . * Love and Music, . . . ' . . . . . . 254 MARZIALS, THEOPHILE. Spring, 255 256 . . . . . . 257 MEREDITH, GEORGE. To a Friend recently lost, 166 MEYNELL, ALICE. * Renouncement, . . My heart shall be thy garden, . . . . . . 263 262 MILTON, J O H N (1608-1674). ' Cyriack, this three-years-day these eyes, though clear,' * Lady, that in the prime of earliest youth,' * Methought I saw my late espoused saint,' On the late Massacre in Piedmont, To the Lord General Cromwell, . To Sir Harry Vane the younger, . 'When I consider how my light is spent,' 46 40 44 43 41 42 45 MONKHOUSE, COSMO. '* Trust me in all, for all my will' is thine/ 240 MOULTON, LOUISE CHANDLER. * Inter Manes, . 258 NEWMAN, JOHN H E N R Y , CARDINAL. Melchizedek, . Substance and Shadow, . . . . . . . . . 111 110 NICHOL, JOHN. Thomas Carlyle, . NOBLE, JAMES ASHCROFT. * A Supreme Hour, . 239 NOEL, T H E H O N . RODEN. * By the Sea, . . J * ' Stain not thy soul with the unholy strife,' * ' Wilt thou arouse thee from low lethargy,' 232 230 231 O'SHAUGHNESSY, A R T H U R (1844-1881). Her Beauty, 236 xxxii AUTHORS AND TITLES. PAGE PATMORE, COVENTRY. ' My childhood was a vision heavenly wrought,' . . . 1 6 4 . . . 1 6 2 . 1 6 3 PATON, S I R NOEL. * Timor mortis conturbat me, * To the Midnight Wind, . . . . . . . PAYNE, J O H N . Jacob and the Angel, Sibyl, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 224 225 PFEIFFER, EMILY. The Winged Soul, . . Watchman, what of the Night ? . . . . . . . . 234 . 2 3 3 POE, EDGAR ALLAN (1809-1849), Silence, . . . . . . . . 126 POLLOCK, WALTER H E R R I E S . * Friendship. To F. S. W., . . . . . 253 PROCTER, BRYAN WALLER (1790-1874). The Sea—in Calm, . . . . . . 8 ^ REYNOLDS, J O H N HAMILTON (1794-1852). On the Picture of a Lady, Sonnet on the Nonpareil, . . . . . . . . . . . 90 296 R I C E , H O N . STEPHEN E. SPRING (1814-1855). The Heart knoweth its own bitterness, . . . . 1 8 2 ROBERTSON, E R I C S. * A Vision of Pain, . . . . . . 266 ROBINSON, A. MARY F . Lover's Silence, . . . . . , . 265 ROSCOE, W I L L I A M CALDWELL (1823-1859). Daybreak in February, . . . * The bubble of the silver-springing waves,' . . . . . 1 7 8 . 1 7 9 ROSCOEj WILLIAM STANLEY (1782-1843). To the Harvest Moon, . . . . . . 74 AUTHORS AND TITLES. XXXlll ROSSETTI, CHRISTINA. After Communion, After Death, . ' If there be any one can take my place/ Rest, . . . . * To-day's Burden, . ROSSETTI, DANTE GABRIEL. Known in Vain, . Lost Days, Mary Magdalene at the door of Simon the Pharisee, * Raleigh's Cell in the Tower, Stillborn Love, True Woman—I. Herself, Do. I I . Her Love, Do. I I I . Her Heaven, . ROSSETTI, WILLIAM MICHAEL. Democracy Downtrodden (October 1849), * Emigration, . . . . . . . . . RUSSELL, THOMAS (1762-1788). Lemnos, . . . . SCOTT, WILLIAM BELL. * A Garland for advancing years, . . . . * On the Birth of Thomas Carlyle's great-nephew, 2d June 1880, Parted Love, . . . . . . The Robin's October Song, . . . . The Universe Void, . . . . . SEWARD, ANNA (1747-1809). December Morning, . . . . SHAKSPEARE, W I L L I A M (1564-1616). ' Full many a glorious morning have I seen,' — ' How like a winter hath my absence been,' * Let me not to the marriage of true minds,' -^* No longer mourn for me when I am dead,' -* Not marble, nor the gilded monuments,' -»' Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul,'