r L'BRAKf UrtlV6RsrTf OF CALIFORWA I SAN DIEGO 'V * 1 1 1 antr LONDON : PBINTBD BY LEVEY, ROBSON, AND FRANKLIN, Great New Street, Fetter Lane. to S3* r.= J Vwm#>> ^oems: anfc pictures: \ \ 1 1 A COLLECTION OF BALLADS, SONGS, AND OTHER POEMS. WITH ! >ne Hundred Jlllugtrattong on ftfllooti BY ENGLISH ARTISTS. 1 1 1 fionbon : 1 : JAMES BURNS, 17 PORTMAN STREET. LJ MDCCCXLVI. 1 ! I 1 / \A Contents. jgj> if IT.aJSJjSs^' js**. " ' Subirtt. A BOY . ^- fWb, author. . N. P. WILLIS 131 145 \ ABRA, OR THE GEORGIAN SULTANA . COLLINS . . . . ADMIRAL COLLINGWOOD .... . Anonymous . . . . 152 ALL PLEASURE IS A PAINFUL THING . APRIL MORNING . From BOETHIUS. (S. R.) . . C. (Church Poetry) 80 , 208 ' " BESSY AND HER SPINNING-WHEEL . BURNS 59 ' '( BIRDS OF PASSAGE i CHARADE . REV. I. WILLIAMS M. PRAED .... 207 92 220 CHILDHOOD AND HIS VISITORS . M. PRAED . CHILDLIKE TEMPER ^ CHILD'S ANSWER . *TERSTEEGEN. (Miss Cox) . . C. (Church Poetry) 196 89 V v CHRIST-CROSS RHYME CHRISTMAS . REV. R. S. HAWKER . . SIR W. SCOTT S. R. 65 & 90 175 98 176 CHRISTMAS CAROL .... CUMNOR HALL . W. J. MEIKLE ,'; DERMOT, AN IRISH BALLAD .... . W. SMYTH . DOMESTIC PEACE . COLERIDGE . 206 ENGLISH MERCHANT AND SARACEN LADY . S. M. (Lays and Ballads) . 105 EVENING . COLLINS . 194 GOOD NIGHT HABITS . *KbRNER 199 45 i 158 13 222 HAFICH AND HATTICH . . HYPERICUM PULCHRUM .... . "LANGBEIN . . S. R. . I I LOVE TO ROAM . Scenes of Childhood ISAAC ASHFORD . CRABBE 237 ( I SAW THEE, DARLING BABY . I WAS A WITHERED, BLASTED TREE . . Scenes of Childhood . C 103 216 JEANIE MORRISON . MOTHERWELL 85 } * The Poems thus distinguished (*) are Tr i ,', mslations from the German. -,;^-K< --^ALt, -- > , f - rtif.ttt" 1 f-~rl 1 T* SI* ^_ 1 -,y*ir-^ in th '" -Ilil'IV 'V^-~~. t-jt^-a*AMuui 7"^ fJ .vv;tliLs>C'>- 1 |^Ji.i* **=a_ fc^s^i,^^-. j*aliJl l -lll--;ii<,l>jV : h ', ^^^ - ^- -wti^ ^c-A, -&-* i- -xn *\ r- I Subject. author. 3sae , i < JOHN ANDERSON, MY JO BURNS 32 H H KING ARTHUR'S LAST TOURNAMENT . SIR W. SCOTT 165 ! i ' LADY MARY REV. H. ALFORD 4 fj k LEONORA BURGER. (HON. W. SPENCER) 225 j V LITTLE MARY AND HER CATECHISM . Scenes of Childhood . . 29 > 1 If LUCY'S FLITTIN' W. LAIDLAW 61 l, ; ; LULLABY OF AN INFANT CHIEF SIR W. SCOTT 161 I MOTHER'S DAY-DREAM Scenes of Childhood 192 i 1 j NATURE AND ART >. (Church Poetry) 57 1 ODE ON THE DEATH OF THE BRAVE . COLLINS .... 53 I > ODE TO TRANQUILLITY COLERIDGE .... 154 ) OF A' THE AIRTS THE WIND CAN BLAW BURNS 37 V ; OLD FATHER MARTIN MAHLMANN .... 41 ; L O MISERERE DOMINE SIR W. SCOTT 95 '! < ON A CHILD TWO YEARS OLD . . . . ON A LADY .... . . REV. I. WILLIAMS S R. . . .' 157 187 / | ON A MONUMENT IN LICHFIELD CATHEDRAL y. (Church Poetry) 1 163 I ON A RIVULET RAMLER .... 219 1 ( ON LEAVING MEOPHAM REV. E. SMEDLEY 44 t~ ^ L , : ON SCARING SOME WATER-FOWL . BURNS 56 | / j : , '' ON A SET OF YOUTHS LEAVING COLLEGE . MRS. BUTLER 67 ( J ON THE RECEIPT OF MY MOTHER'S PICTURE COWPER .... 1 P V ON SOME OLD FAMILY PORTRAITS . BlacTcwooffs Magazine . 134 If y ', POETS BLESSING UHLAND .... 97 I )i 5 i POWER OF MATERNAL PIETY .... Anonymous .... 138 1 1 RECOLLECTIONS OE J. W. AND HIS SISTER . The Tribute . . . . ' 177 \ '": RECOLLECTIONS OF THE SEA .... REV. H. ALFORD . . . 208 / ( 1 ROBERT BURNS TO DAVIE SILLAR . BURNS .... 69 '' 1 SAY NOT THESE FLOWERS Anonymous .... 241 i d SIMILES ON A SWALLOW Anonymous .... 48 r SIR ROLAND GRAEME ALLAN CUNNINGHAM . 15 j SONG COMPOSED IN AUGUST . BURNS i 136 5 1 SONG FOR ST. CECILIA'S DAY . . . . DRYDEN .... 93 ': V SONG OF THE BRAVE MAN BURGER .... 33 \ I f SONNET ......... REV. H. ALFORD . 242 \ 1 1 SPRING FLOWERS K. 207 l '. 15 r-" -- llt ; -^ - - *. - t * - '" Jl V. 1 -* 1 ! *^> ~~ f LJ*iJ*^lU'u*^* - . fj- u-- J .'iflr;l'i''l ^~^, |- , .'C.vlill 1^" - 3-3 < j*$5P o TU-JV.J-.J. r ~-r*fafc4/7r-'' t T* J i''K. .^r^iwDi.- -ujrunBtgii^y, HSV-H MT t ~t i , i \ I 1 1 I \ 1 1 1 IM W J STANZAS STORM AT SEA Sutftor. REV. C. WOLFE . SOUTHEY REV. E. SMEDLEY REV. H. ALFORD . GRAY .... SIR W. SCOTT W. SMYTH . YRIARTE JOANNA BAILLIE . SIR R. GRANT WORDSWORTH S. R 50 . 240 197 11 . 209 71 . 233 . 162 63 . 234 1 6 60 i 1 I S ! it xprff 1 SUNRISE IN PALESTINE . TALE OF THE COAST-GUARD .... THE BARD . .... THE BATTLE OF FLODDEN 1 THE BEE THE BIG BELL AND THE LITTLE BELL . THE BOATIE ROWS THE BROOKLET THE BUCKET THE BUTTERCUPS i THE COTTAGE HOME \ THE COWSLIP THE DANCE . ... Recollections of the Lakes Wild Garland . 148 . 129 218 5 f THE DEVOTED THE DIVER E. M. CHANDLER . SCHILLER. (S. M.) . W. SMYTH . j. M . 215 . 201 . 236 38 THE DYING FATHER TO HIS DAUGHTER . THE EMIGRANT HIGHLANDER'S WIFE THE FIELD OF WATERLOO THE FISHERMAN'S WIFE .... SIR W. SCOTT J. S. KNOWLES 46 20 137 THE FLAX-SPINNERS' SONG 1 .... THE GLOVE THE HERMIT I THE HIGHLAND SHEPHERD .... I THE JOYOUS CHILD THE LAND O' THE LEAL THE LONELY ROCK THE LOVER THE MINER* THE MOURNER L. HUNT, after SCHILLER PARNELL SIR W. SCOTT Scenes of Childhood BURNS .... Anonymous . DRYDEN Miss CLEFHANE . . 159 . 115 52 66 49 . 198 64 25 22 \ THE MUFFIN-MAN . A. J 96 4 | THE NIGHTINGALE TT. rni.ERTTiOE . 140 icntioned n:m>F?zx*ic* (11 Sung among the peasants of Westphalia. ; (2) These verses appeared in " The Tribute," and the story on which they are founded was n in a newspaper in spring 1835 as of recent occurrence in one of the Swedish mines. F^-fr*-j 1 '^''j. ''^ -" ' *'.^ ^ 1 iyP*iZzS3it^3U&j^:i>% t Jue4j^^ ?rS?$ ^^V mra ** . - Ze^z^Szi^&tzy^-wto^tfP&xae*. "Sj^ev'X iPj? A? n Sutfect. THEODORA author, s. M $age 142 THE OLD CAP, OR TIME'S ALTERATION . Elegant Extracts . 39 1 p THE OLD ENGLISH GENTLEMAN THE PASSAGE 190 55 J 1 THE POOR MAN'S SONG *UHLAND .... 51 THE PRINCE AND THE OUTLAW S. M. (Lays and Ballads} 81 THE RINGERS OF LANCELL'S TOWER . THE SERENADE REV. R. S. HAWKER . *UHLAND .... 54 114 1 THE SHIPWRECKED SOLITARY'S SONG . K. WHITE .... 132 : THE SONG OF THE WESTERN MEN . REV. R. S. HAWKER . 128 t THE SPINNING MAIDEN'S CROSS THE SUFFOLK YEOMAN'S SONG .... REV. W. WHEWELL' . J. HUGHES .... 123 150 1 S THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH .... LONGFELLOW . , 155 1 I THE VILLAGE SMITHY THE VILLAGE STILE THE WATER-LILIES *KORNER .... Recollections of the Lakes REV. E BARNARD 43 1 130 1 j t THE WILD HUNTSMAN BURGER. (S. M.) . 179 J' I THEY ERR WHO SAY LIFE IS NOT SWEET . S. R 80 THE YOUNG MOURNER TIME REV. H. ALFORD SIR W. SCOTT 200 88 TO A BABY WHEN A FEW DAYS OLD . TO A YOUNG LADY ON HER WEDDING-DAY . Scenes of Childhood S R 217 135 TO BLOSSOMS . 195 ! TO THE ANGEL OF GUIDO TO THE EVENING WIND REV. H. ALFORD BRYANT .... 189 188 i TO THE NAUTILUS H. COLERIDGE 19 I (1) From " The Tribute gjgft . ill \ w5 SUuStrattonS. ^ /& & i Subjects. THE VILLAGE STILE k Two . 'Qsfsr Artists. C. W. COPE . . . . ^ nsrabers. /W. J. LINTON . . llafle i \T. THOMPSON . . . . 3 LADY MARY THE BUCKET Two . One . Four . One . W. DYCE T. CRESWICK . . . J. C. HORSLEY R. REDGRAVE . . . C. GRAY .... W. J. LINTON . . C. GRAY .... . 4, 5 . . 6 , 7-10 . . 11 COWPER ON HIS MOTHER'S PICTURE A TALE OF THE COAST-GUARD . . W. J. LINTON . . SIR ROLAND GRAEME Two . H. C. SELOUS . . . f W. C. BLANCH ARD \W. J. LINTON . . . . 15 . . 18 THE FISHERMAN'S WIFE .... One . J. FRANKLIN . . . T. ARMSTRONG . . . 21 THE MOURNER . . THE MINER Two . Two . J. C. HORSLEY . . H. J. TOWNSEND . T. THOMPSON . . C. GRAY .... C. DALZIEL . . . 22, 24 . 25, 28 . 29, 31 LITTLE MARY AND THE CATECHISM Two . F. R. PlCKERSGILL . JOHN ANDERSON, MY jo Two . C. W. COPE . . . . W. J. LINTON . . . . 32 SONG OF THE BRAVE MAN .... OLD FATHER MARTIN THE HIGHLAND SHEPHERD . . . Two . One . One . J. TENNIEL, JUN. J. FRANKLIN . . . C. H. WEIGALL , . {F. BRANSTON . . W. GREEN . . . . . 33 36 W. GREEN . . . 41 W. J. LINTON . . . . 52 THE DEATH OF THE BRAVE . . . LUCY'S FLITTIN' Two . Two . One . F. R. PlCKERSGILL . F. W. TOPHAM . . C. H. WEIGALL . . W. J. LINTON . . W. J. LINTON . . W. J. LINTON . . . . 53 . 61, 62 . . 63 THE BOATIE ROWS THE LOVER One . J. C. HORSLEY . . C. GRAY .... . . 64 A CHRIST-CROSS RHYME .... One . W. DYCE . . . . C. GRAY .... . . 65 THE BATTLE OF FLODDEN .... THE PRINCE AND THE OUTLAW . . Two . Six . H. C. SELOUS . . . J. TENNIEL, JDN. . C. GRAY. . . . C. GRAY .... . 71, 79 . 81-84 ' TIME One . C. W. COPE . . . . T. THOMPSON . . . . 88 A CHILD'S ANSWER One . R. REDGRAVE . . C. GRAY .... . . 89 THE MUFFIN-MAN One . J. W. ARCHER . . W. J. LINTON . . . . 96 CUMNOR HALL Two . 1 SAW THEE, DARLING BABY . . . One . THE MERCHANT AND SARACEN LADY Nine . THE SERENADE One . J. C. HORSLEY . . F. R. PlCKERSGILL . E. CORBOULD . . . C. W. COPE. . . . T. THOMPSON . . C. GRAY .... 98, 102 103 ', W. J. LINTON . . T. THOMPSON . . 105-113 . . 114 THE HERMIT Two . F. R. PlCKERSGILL . W. J. LINTON . . 115,122 r Suitfcts. artists. tijjrabers. Dage THE SPINNING MAIDEN'S CROSS . . Three W. DYCE . . . . C. GRAY. . . . 125, 127 THE SHIPWRECKED SOLITARY'S SONG Two . F. R, PlCKERSGILL . W. J. LINTON . . 132, 133 POWER OF MATERNAL PIETY . . . Two . C. W. COPE . . . . C. GRAY .... 138,139 THE NIGHTINGALE Two . G. DODGSON . . . W. J. LINTON . . 140, 141 ABRA, OR THE GEORGIAN SULTANA . Two . C. H. WEIGALL . . W. G. MASON . . 145, 147 ADMIRAL COLLINGWOOD One . E. DUNCAN . . . . W. J. LINTON . . . . 152 | THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH . . . One . E. CORBOULD . . . W. J. LINTON . . . . 155 THE GLOVE One . J. FRANKLIN . . . W. J. LINTON . . . . 159 LULLABY OF AN INFANT CHIEF . . One . J. TENNIEL, JUN. . J. BASTIN . . . . . 161 THE BIG BELL AND LITTLE BELL . One . W. C. THOMAS . . C. GRAY .... . . 162 KING ARTHUR'S LAST TOURNAMENT Two . H. C. SELOUS . . . C. GRAY .... 165, 174 J. W. AND HIS SISTER One . F. R. PlCKERSGILL . W. J. LINTON . . . . 177 TKE WILD HUNTSMAN Three E. CORBOULD . . . (3. BASTIN, G. DAL X ZIEL, C. GRAY. . 179 182,186 THE OLD ENGLISH GENTLEMAN . . One . J. FRANKLIN . . . C. GRAY .... . . 190 A MOTHER'S DAY-DREAM . . . One . F. R. PlCKERSGILL . G. DALZIEL . . . . 192 GOOD NIGHT One . W. C. THOMAS . . C. GRAY .... . . 199 THE DIVER One . J. FRANKLIN . . . W. J. LINTON . . . . 201 j THE BARD Five . H. C. SELOUS . . . J. BASTIN . . . 209-214 ON A RIVULET One . C. W. COPE. . . . T. THOMPSON . . . .219 I LOVE TO ROAM Two . F. R. PlCKERSGILL . {G. P. NICHOLLS . G. DALZIEL . . /C. GRAY .... . . 222 . .224 225 LEONORA Four . H. C. SELOUS . . . IW. C. BLANCH ARD . . 232 THE BROOKLET Two . G. DODGSON . . . W. J. LINTON . . 234, 235 ISAAC ASRFORD One . C. W. COPE . . . . W. J. LINTON . . . . 237 A STORM AT SEA i One . r>/( E. DUNCAN . . . . W. J. LINTON . . . .240 , C45J HP-*.. H E village-stile and has it gone, Supplanted by this niche of stone, So formal and so new ? And worse, still worse, the elder-bush, Where sang the linnet and the thrush, Say, has that vanished too ? Dear, ancient friend ! it was to me So needful to the scenery, " I could have better spared A better thing ;" but be it so ; Change meets us wheresoe'er we go It fares as all have fared. Old chronicler ! to me it spoke Like oracle from ancient oak, Save only that its tone ( Unskilled the future to forecast) Upon the present or the past Dwelt ever and anon. 'Twas thronged with memories of old Yea, many a scene it could unfold To truth and fancy dear ; For not the thorn upon the green More frequent confidant had been Of tales they love to hear. Age sat upon't when tired of straying ; And children, that had been a-maying, There twined their garlands gay : What tender partings, blissful meetings What faint denials, fond entreatings, It witnessed in its day ! The milkmaid on its friendly rail Would ofttimes rest her brimful pail ; And lingering there awhile, ' Some lucky chance (that tell-tale cheek Doth something more than chance bespeak,) Brings Lubin to the stile. But what he said, or she replied, Whether he asked her for his bride, And she, so sought, was won, There is no chronicler to tell ; For silent is the oracle The village-stile is gone. wert fair, Lady Mary, As the lily in the sun; And fairer yet thou mightest be, Thy youth was but begun : Thine eye was soft and glancing, Of the deep bright blue ; And on the heart thy gentle words Fell lighter than the dew. They found thee, Lady Mary, With thy palms upon thy breast ; Even as thou hadst been praying At thine hour of rest : The cold pale moon was shining On thy cold pale cheek; And the morn of the Nativity Had just begun to break. in. They carved thee, Lady Mary, All of pure white stone, With thy palms upon thy breast, In the chancel all alone : And I saw thee when the winter moon Shone on thy marble cheek ; When the morn of the Nativity Had just begun to break. But thou kneelest, Lady Mary, With thy palms upon thy breast, Among the perfect spirits, In the land of rest : Thou art even as they took thee, At thine hour of prayer, Save the glory that is on thee From the sun that shineth there. We shall see thee, Lady Mary, On that shore unknown, A pure and happy angel In the presence of the throne ; We shall see thee when the light divine Plays freshly on thy cheek, And the Resurrection morning Hath just begun to break. dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood, When fond recollection presents them to view ! The orchard, the meadow, the deep tangled wild-wood, And every loved spot which my infancy knew ; The wide-spreading pond, and the mill which stood by it, The bridge and the rock where the cataract fell ; The cot of my father, the dairy-house nigh it, And e'en the rude bucket which hung in the well ! The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, ^The moss-cover'd bucket, which hung in the well. That moss-cover'd vessel I hail as a treasure ; For often, at noon, when return 'd from the field, I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure, The purest and sweetest that nature can yield. How ardent I seized it, with hands that were glowing, And quick to the white pebbled bottom it fell; Then soon, with the emblem of truth overflowing. And dripping with coolness, it rose from the well ; The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, The moss-covered bucket arose from the well. (9n tt)e &m tpt of mj potter's $tcturf OUT OF NORFOLK. Q THAT those lips had language ! Life has pass'd With me but roughly since I heard thee last. Those lips are thine thy own sweet smile I see, The same that oft in childhood solaced me ; Voice only fails, else how distinct they say, " Grieve not, my child, chase all thy fears away !" The meek intelligence of those dear eyes (Bless'd by the art that can immortalise, The art that baffles Time's tyrannic claim To quench it) here shines on me still the same. Faithful remembrancer of one so dear, welcome guest, though unexpected here ! Who bidd'st me honour with an artless song, Affectionate, a mother lost so long ; 1 will obey, not willingly alone, But gladly, as the precept were her own : And, while that face renews my filial grief, Fancy shall weave a charm for my relief; Shall steep me in Elysian reverie, A momentary dream that thou art she. My mother ! when I learn 'd that thou wast dead, Say, wast thou conscious of the tears I shed ? Hover'd thy spirit o'er thy sorrowing son, Wretch even then, life's journey just begun ? Perhaps thou gav'st me, though unfelt, a kiss ; Perhaps a tear, if souls can weep in bliss Ah, that maternal smile ! It answers Yes. I heard the bell toll'd on thy burial-day; I saw the hearse that bore thee slow away, And, turning from my nursery-window, drew A long, long sigh, and wept a last adieu ! But was it such ? It was. Where thou art gone, Adieus and farewells are a sound unknown. May I but meet thee on that peaceful shore, The parting word shall pass my lips no more. Thy maidens, grieved themselves at my concern, Oft gave me promise of thy quick return. What ardently I wish'd I long believed, And, disappointed still, was still deceived. By expectation every day beguiled ; Dupe of to-morrow, even from a child. Thus many a sad to-morrow came and went, Till, all my stock of infant sorrow spent, I learn'd at last submission to my lot; But, though I less deplored thee, ne'er forgot. Where once we dwelt our name is heard no more, Children not thine have trod my nursery-floor; And where the gardener Robin, day by day, Drew me to school along the public way, Delighted with my bauble coach, and wrapp'd In scarlet mantle warm, and velvet cap; 'Tis now become a history little known, That once we call'd the pastoral house our own Short-lived possession ! but the record fair, That memory keeps of all thy kindness there, Still outlives many a storm, that has effaced Thy nightly visits to my chamber made, That thou might'st know me safe and warmly laid; Thy morning bounties ere I left my home, The biscuit or confectionary plum ; The fragrant waters on my cheek bestow'd By thy own hand, till fresh they shone and. glow'd ; . All this, and more endearing still than all, Thy constant flow of love, that knew no fall, Ne'er roughen 'd by those cataracts and breaks, That humour interposed too often makes; All this, still legible in memory's page, And still to be so to my latest age, Adds joy to duty, makes me glad to pay Such honours to thee as my numbers may ! Perhaps a frail memorial, but sincere, Not scorn 'd in heaven, though little noticed here. Could T.mie, his flight reversed, restore the hours When, playing with thy vesture's tissued flowers, The violet, the pink, and jessamine, I prick'd them into paper with a pin (And thou wast happier than myself the while, Wouldst softly .speak, and stroke my head, and smile): Could those few pleasant days again appear Might' one wish bring them would I wish them here ? I would not trust my heart ? the dear delight Seems so to be desired, perhaps I might. But no, -what here we call our life is such, So little to be loved, and thou so much, That I should ill requite thee to constrain Thy unbound spirit into bonds again. Thou, as a gallant bark from Albion's coast (The storms all weather'd, and the ocean cross'dj Shoots into port at some well-haven 'd isle, Where spices breathe, and brighter seasons smile ; There sits quiescent on the floods, that shew Her beauteous form reflected clear below, Where airs impregnated with incense play Around her, fanning light her streamers gay : So thou, with sails how swift ! hast reach'd the shore. Where tempests never beat, nor billows roai, And thy loved consort on the dangerous tide Of life long since has anchor'd by thy side. But me, scarce hoping to attain the rest, Always from port withheld, always distressed, Me howling blasts drive devious, tempest-toss'd, Sails ripp'd, seanis opening wide, and compass lost, And day by day some current's thwarting force Sets me more distant from a prosperous course. Yet, oh, the thought that thou art safe, and he ! That thought is joy, arrive what may to me. My boast is not, that I deduce my birth From loins enthroned, and rulers'of the earth ; But higher far my proud pretensions rise The son of parents pass'd into 'the skies. And now, farewell ! Time unrevOked has run His wonted course, yet what I wish'd is done. By Contemplation's help, not sought in vain, I seem to have lived my childhood o'er again ; To have renew'd the joys that once were mine, Without the ein of violating thine : And while the wings of fancy still are free, And I can view this mimic show of thee, Time has but half succeeded in his theft Thyself remov'd, thy power to soothe me left. he).-- ^J\JCT