Song ‘ O Lady mine! ’one day I cried,’ Pray make for me a posy, That I may think when from your s… On your young mouth so rosy.’

The world has grown unreal to-day Far out upon the Zuyder Zee! We drift towards a mystic isle, With scarce a breath of wind the w… I hear the murmur of the tide,

I weave my verses of smiles and te… Gathered and shed for you, I bind them up in the hopes of yea… Dear, will you read them through? I write my ballads of joy and pain…

Can nothing last? No deep, intense emotion? Have all things passed, Can nothing last? ‘Yes,’ sighs the wind,

Oh! my valley of shade and dreams! Golden lights 'mid the distant blu… Sun that pauses to kiss the dew, Dew that trembles beneath its beam… Fain were I but a bird above,

Without what desolation! mist and… And weeping trees, and roses that… While still in blossom, till the a… Lies low, and speechless, and benu… An early twilight hyies the gentle…

I RODE through Eastnor woods to… And all the air did promise May, Did promise May till every tree Found voice to make much melody. And oh, the primi-ose flowers! the…

What have we missed, we two— You and I—I and you— Of sorrow, and pain, and tears, Of doubt, and of passionate fears, Of madness, and badness, these yea…

‘ Swift away, swift away,’ Sang the fickle swallow, Oh! the fickle swallow, Flying to the sun! ‘Come, my little brothers,

What is the end of all sweet thing… Of these dawns and twilights and g… Of the rose that climbs, and the s… Of the breeze that sighs, and the… Dust and ashes and death?

Song Dear, perchance 'neath the frost a… One little golden flower is sleepi… You shall find it, for you will kn… Whither at dawn the sun goes peepi…

Oh! the wind among the trees, How it stirs their wood to song! Little whispered melodies. All the winding road along. Was there ever such a sound,

Song Butterfly, butterfly, where are yo… ‘Over the roses into the sky.’ Butterfly, butterfly, there is no… When you’ll come back again, so go…

Oh! why is the world as it is, we… With tears in our voice, and a sig… For nothing remains but an unfinis… While beauty is only hypocrisy’s m… The end of it all—but to die.

The Malvern Hills be green some d… And some days purple-blue, There never was the like of them The whole of England through. From Hanley straight into the Wel…