THEY cry, ‘How light the heart a… From which proceed such strains of gladness!’ They can’t discern the pangs that… And seek to drive the bard to madn…

AH me! my heart is like to break, The envied rose upon my cheek, The blood red rose is cold and ble… Now Robin slighteth me. Alas! a shadow lone and pale

YE’VE heard of Meg Goldlocks of… The stoniest damsel that ever was… Yet, her beauty distress’d, with i… Of the lasses for miles around Wi… Mary of Howdon, with Robin would…

A GOLDEN sun went down to-night… When lo! a vision from the olden Time, flashed on my inner sight, With smiles more tender and as gol… My blood ran cold; for I did know

WAS ever wretch in such a plight? I scramble on I know not whither! The witches are abroad to-night; Some wicked one has led me hither! ‘That’s just like you, you’ll have…

THEY’D told me he was hoar and o… They’d told me he was weak and wor… And wonder-bound did I behold Him merry as a summer morn. Bound, wonder-bound; but when I f…

CRIED Ciss to the breeze, as un… She lay at her ease, one day, ‘From thy rovings cease, and a mai… Of thy doings breeze now say! ’Be it so,' sang he; 'from the wes…

PARTLY from deference to the opinion of a few well-wishers, and partly from an impression that it would be proper so to do, I beg leave to state that the author of the following Lyrics ...

‘LOVE’S a pleasure, love’s a tre… Why the joys of love withstand?’ Alf so pleadeth, Effie heedeth And—What ails the lily-wand? Lighter grow her airs and lighter—

DEAR critics, pray, what have I… That thus you frown so? tell me tr… ‘You’ve for your neck a halter spu… In blaming of our race unduly!’ Don’t hang me, pray!—Just praise…

‘ADIEU!’ she cried, and with tha… Adown the star-lit valley fleeted, And Echo from her tower on high, With cruel tongue, the word repeat… ‘What?—Never!’ cried I, yet posse…

SHE snapt her fingers, on her hee… Her sweet boot-heel, she turned an… What did I feel?—What could I fe… At what of paradise had reft me? I swooning lay; my soul away

LITTLE Anna, cruel elf, Spite of all my reason, She, she puts me from myself, In and out of season; Ah, the imp! ah, the shrimp!

‘SAY, whither goes my buxom maid All with the coal-black e’e?’ ‘Before I answer that,’ she said, ‘Give ear, and answer me. ’Pray, hast thou e’er thy counsel…

center A new song to an old tune. AWAY to the pic-nic at Ryton, aw… Went off in the sunrise our younke… And many were bonny and many were…