INDEX OF FIRST LINES A baby's eyes, ere speech begin A baby's feet, like sea-shells pink A baby's hands, like rosebuds furl'd. A baby was sleeping A chieftain to the Highlands bound. A country life is sweet A fair little girl sat under a tree A green silk frock her comely shoulders clad A lake and a fairy boat A nightingale that all day long. A parrot from the Spanish main A spaniel, Beau, that fares like you A wet sheet and a flowing sea A widow bird sate mourning for her love . Adieu, adieu! my native shore. All ye woods, and trees, and bowers. And are ye sure the news is true And when, its force expended Art thou the bird whom man loves best As it fell upon a day. At the corner of Wood Street, when daylight appears Ay, tear her tattered ensign down Beside yon straggling fence that skirts the way Daily the fishers' sails drift out. Dame Nature ordered every bird and beast Darby dear, we are old and gray Diaphenia, like the daffadowndilly Did you hear of the curate who mounted his mare Do you ask what the birds say? The sparrow, the dove. 6 224 12 First April, she with mellow showers 47 Half a league, half a league Happy insect, what can be Happy the man whose wish and care Hark, hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings Here she was wont to go, and here, and here 79 54 62 3 32 19 26 87 I had a dove, and the sweet dove died I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me I have no name I know a place where the sun is like gold I'll tell you how the sun rose I remember, I remember I saw him once before I tell thee, Dick, where I have been. I thought it was the little bed . I've watch'd you now a full half hour I wandered lonely as a cloud In May, when sea-winds pierced our solitudes . In summer on the headlands In the hollow tree in the gray old tower In the hush of the autumn night In their ragged regimentals In thy hammock gently sleeping Into the sunshine It was a summer evening. It was the charming month of May. It was late in mild October, and the long autumnal rain Laid in my quiet bed in study as I were Little inmate, full of mirth Little lamb, who made thee? Lord Lovel he stood at his castle gate Lo! where she comes along with portly pace March, march, Ettrick and Teviotdale Maxwelton braes are bonny Merrily swinging on brier and weed. Merry Margaret Monsieur the curé down the street My banks they are furnished with bees 69 My fairest child, I have no song to give you 315 My heart's in the highlands, my heart is not here 90 My heart leaps up when I behold My Peggy is a young thing My tea is nearly ready, and the sun has left the sky. Nae shoon to hide her tiny taes 119 63 352 228 Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note . Now glory to the Lord of Hosts from whom all glories are Now that the winter's gone the earth hath lost. Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger Now the glories of the year Now the golden morn aloft Now the hungry lion roars Of speckled eggs the birdie sings O hush thee, my babie, thy sire was a knight O my luve's like a red, red rose O then I see Queen Mab hath been with you O where ha'e ye been, Lord Ronald, my son? O wilt thou go wi' me? Oft in the stilly night Oft when, returning with her loaded bill 66 Oh fireflies, fireflies, light all your candles 345 Oh, heard ye yon pibroch sound sad in the gale 172 Oh, young Lochinvar is come out of the west 147 Old Meg she was a gypsy. 161 On Linden, when the sun was low 177 On the green banks of Shannon when Sheelah was nigh 170 |