Like the march of soundless music Oh, they listened, dumb and breathless, Louder, nearer, fierce as vengeance, But when the far-off dust-cloud Round the silver domes of Lucknow, O'er the cruel roll of war-drums Rose that sweet and homelike strain; Dear to the corn-land reaper The pipes at Lucknow played! John Greenleaf Whittier TO THE FRINGED GENTIAN Thou blossom bright with autumn dew, Thou comest not when violets lean Thou waitest late, and com'st alone, Then doth thy sweet and quiet eye I should that thus, when I shall see William Cullen Bryant I saw you toss the kites on high. Stevenson. At evening when the lamp is lit. Stevenson. Breaking waves dashed high. Hemans. By the rude bridge that arched the flood. Emerson. FIRST LINE INDEX PAGE. 22 44 28 46 Scott. 52 35 14 6 30 16 54 9 53 36 37 Camel's hump is an ugly lump. Kipling... . . A child should always say what's true. Stevenson. Down in a field, one day in June. Jewett.. The Frost looked forth, one still, clear night. Gould. "Give us a song!" the soldiers cried. Taylor. Good little boys should never say. Turner.. Hark, hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings. Shakespeare. Hats off! Bennett.... Home of my heart, I sing to thee. Brent.. How do you like to go up in a swing. Stevenson. I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me. Stevenson. I keep six honest serving-men. Kipling. I know the song that the bluebird is singing. Miller. I once had a sweet little doll, dears. Kingsley. I remember, I remember. Hood. I saw three ships come sailing in.. I shot an arrow into the air. Longfellow.. I wandered lonely as a cloud. Wordsworth. In winter I get up at night. Stevenson.. 15 20 3 23 45 7 27 36 8 Let not ambition mock their useful toil. Gray. 59 23 Listen, my children, and you shall hear. Longfellow.. My fairest child, I have no song to give you. Kingsley. O Columbia! the gem of the ocean. O little town of Bethlehem. Shaw. Brooks... Oft I had heard of Lucy Gray. Wordsworth.. Oh, say, can you see, by the dawn's early light. Key. The owl and the pussy-cat went to sea. Pipes of the misty moorlands. Whittier.. 31 3 53 34 54 47 50 59 49 Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean-roll! Byron. 9 60 15 58 18 10 56 25 Say, what is the spell, when her fledglings are cheeping. Carroll. The splendor falls on castle walls. Tennyson. 50 17 24 4 52 57 |