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 Bowing adorers of the gale. Broods there some spirit here? 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 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, Here, till return of morn dismissed the farm How dazzling white the snowy scene! deep, deep 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 Last smile of the departing year Leaves have their time to fall Lessons sweet of Spring returning Meanwhile to glad September's dawn Not worlds on worlds in phalanx deep. Now in my walk with sweet surprise O Father! Lord! the All-beneficent! I bless Thy name O festal Spring! midst thy victorious glow gift of God! O perfect day God! by whom the seed is given reader! hast thou ever stood to see M. A. Bacon 7. M. Good. INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 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 186 Hartley Coleridge 193 The billows swell, the winds are high The lopped tree in time may grow again The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year Bryant The mellow year is hasting to its close The moon is up! How calm and slow. The morning mist is cleared away 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 Thy mighty working, mighty God! 'Tis done! dread Winter spreads his latest glooms 'Tis morning; and the sun, with ruddy orb Under the green hedges after the snow. Welcome, O pure and lovely forms, again Keats M. A. Bacon Lyra Germanica' Cowper 206 212 33 66 80 13 When Spring unlocks the flowers to paint the laughing soil 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 FROM "Our Village" (A Frost Scene) "Our Village" (Felling Timber) 66 Kavanagh (The First Buds) "Beauties of the Country" (February fill-dike) "The Spectator" (On Gladness in Spring) "The Complete Angler" ("The time of the singing "The Complete Angler" (An Evening in May) 66 ogies) Chapters on Flowers" (Garden Thoughts) "Summer-time in the Country" (Glow-worms) "Recreations of a Country Parson (Summer Days) "Summer-time in the Country" (Autumn Thoughts) "Rambles of a Naturalist" (Rock-Pools) "The Church and the Nation" (Lessons of Autumn) 'Missions among the Gipsies (George III. and the dying Gipsy) 66 "Kavanagh" (Autumnal Beauty) Pages from my Note-book "(November Bonfires). 66 66 Kavanagh" (The First Snow). LONDON R. CLAY, SON, AND TAYLOR, PRINTERS, BREAD STREET HILL. |