THE WALLYPUG IN LONDON. By G. E. FARROW, An extravaganza for children, written with great charm and vivacity. RAILWAY NATIONALIZATION. By CLEMENT EDWARDS. Crown 8vo. 2s. 6d. [Social Questions Series. Sport SPORTING AND ATHLETIC RECORDS. By H. MORGAN BROWNE. Crown 8vo. Is. paper; Is. 6d. cloth. This book gives, in a clear and complete form, accurate records of the best performances in all important branches of Sport. It is an attempt, never yet made, to present all-important sporting records in a systematic way. THE GOLFING PILGRIM. By HORACE G HUTCHINSON, Crown 8vo. 6s. This book, by a famous golfer, contains the following sketches lightly and humorously written:-The Prologue-The Pilgrim at the Shrine-Mecca out of Season-The Pilgrim at Home-The Pilgrim Abroad-The Life of the Links-A Tragedy by the Way-Scraps from the Scrip-The Golfer in Art-Early Pilgrims in the West -An Interesting Relic. Educational EVAGRIUS. Edited by PROFESSOR LÉON PARMENTIER of Liége and M. BIDEZ of Gand. Demy 8vo. 75. 6d. THE ODES AND EPODES OF HORACE. [Byzantine Texts. Translated by College, Oxford. ORNAMENTAL DESIGN FOR WOVEN FABRICS. By C. STEPHENSON, of The Technical College, Bradford, and F. SUDDARDS, of The Yorkshire College, Leeds. With 65 full-page plates, and numerous designs and diagrams in the text. Demy 8vo. 7s. 6d. The aim of this book is to supply, in a systematic and practical form, information on the subject of Decorative Design as applied to Woven Fabrics, and is primarily intended to meet the requirements of students in Textile and Art Schools, or of designers actively engaged in the weaving industry. Its wealth of illustration is a marked feature of the book. ESSENTIALS OF COMMERCIAL EDUCATION. Is. 6d. By Rarely, rarely comest thou,. Reach, with your whiter hands, to me, Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth, Rise, heart; thy Lord is risen. Sing his praise, Seek ye out of the book of the Lord, and read, See the chariot at hand here of Love, . Send home my long-stray'd eyes to me, Set me whereas the sun doth parch the green, She dwelt among the untrodden ways, . She is far from the land where her young hero sleeps, She walks in beauty, like the night, She was a Phantom of delight, Should auld acquaintance be forgot, Shut not so soon: the dull-ey'd night, Since first I saw your face I resolved to honour and renown ye, Since I in storms used most to be, Since there's no help, come let us kiss and part! Sing lullaby, as women do,. Sister, awake! close not your eyes! Sleep, sleep, beauty bright, So, we'll go no more a roving, Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year's pleasant king Sweet, be not proud of those two eyes, Take, O, take those lips away, Thank Heaven! the crisis, . That time of year thou may'st in me behold, The beauty of Israel is slain upon thy high places, The castled crag of Drachenfels, The earth is the Lord's, and the fulness thereof, The forward youth that would appear, The glories of our blood and state, The golden gates of Sleep unbar, The isles of Greece, the isles of Greece, The keen stars were twinkling, The lark now leaves his wat'ry nest,, Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now! There's kames o' hinney 'tween my luve's lips, There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream, The skies they were ashen and sober, . The star that bids the shepherd fold, . The twentieth year is well-nigh past, The world's great age begins anew, Those looks, whose beams be joy, whose motion is delight, Thou art but young, thou say'st, Thou art to all lost love the best, Though the day of my destiny's over, Through grief and through danger thy smile hath cheer'd my way, PAGE 291 2 362 206 265 Tiger, tiger, burning bright, Time is the feathered thing, 'Tis time this heart should be unmoved, 'Tis true, I never was in love, To fair Fidele's grassy tomb, Toll for the brave! To me, fair friend, you never can be old, To the Lords of Convention 'twas Claver'se who spoke, To the ocean now I fly, 'Twas on a Monday morning, What bird so sings, yet so does wail? What conscience, say, is it in thee, What harder is than stone? What more than water soft? What is thy mother? What is your substance? Whereof are you made, What sweet relief the showers to thirsty plants we see, When daisies pied, and violets blue, When, dearest, I but think of thee, When Flora had o'erfret the firth, When in death I shall calmly recline, When he, who adores thee, has left but the name, When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes, When in the chronicle of wasted time, When the lamp is shattered, When the Lord turned again the captivity of Zion, When to the sessions of sweet silent thought, When we two parted, Where shall the lover rest, Where the bee sucks, there suck I, Where the remote Bermudas ride, Who can find a virtuous woman? Who is this that darkeneth counsel, Why art thou slow, thou rest of trouble, Death, Why dost thou shade thy lovely face? O why, Why should your fair eyes with such sov'reign grace, With how sad steps, O Moon, thou clim'st the skies! Ye blushing virgins happy are, Ye flowery banks o' bonie Doon, Ye have been fresh and green, Ye learned Sisters, which have oftentimes, Ye little birds that sit and sing, Ye Mariners of England, Yestreen I had a pint o' wine, Yet once more, O'ye laurels, and once more, You are a tulip seen to-day, You meaner beauties of the night, Your eyën two will slay me suddenly, Printed by T. and A. CONSTABLE, Printers to Her Majesty at the Edinburgh University Press |