Chapter 9
O, a gallant set were they (_M. E. Coleridge_) . . . . . . . . 8 O dreamy, gloomy, friendly Trees (_H. Trench_) . . . . . . . . 111 O happy soul, forget thy self (_T. Sturge Moore_) . . . . . . 106 O heavenly colour, London town (_A. Meynell_) . . . . . . . . 97 O Idleness, too fond of me (_T. Sturge Moore_) . . . . . . . . 111 O, men from the fields! (_P. Colum_) . . . . . . . . . . . . . 149 Oh, not more subtly silence strays (_A. Meynell_) . . . . . . 160 O pastoral heart of England! like a psalm (_A. Quiller-Couch_) 9 Oh shall I never never be home again! (_J. E. Flecker_) . . . 30 O summer sun, O moving trees! (_L. Binyon_) . . . . . . . . . 96 O why do you walk through tha fields in gloves (_F. Cornford_) 85 O what know they of harbours (_E. Radford_) . . . . . . . . . 50 O world invisible, we view thee (_F. Thompson,_) . . . . . . . 130 Of Courtesy it is much less (_H. Belloc_) . . . . . . . . . . 131 On alien ground, breathing an alien air (_M. E. Coleridge_) . 33 On a starred night Prince Lucifer uprose (_G. Meredith_) . . . 128 Once . . . once upon a time (_W. de la Mare_) . . . . . . . . 135 One that is ever kind said yesterday (_W. B. Yeats_) . . . . . 169 Out of my door I step into (_K. Tynan_) . . . . . . . . . . . 66 Out-worn heart, in a time out-worn (_W. B. Yeats_) . . . . . . 123
Peace waits among the hills (_A. Symons_) . . . . . . . . . . 132 Perfect little body, without fault or stain on thee (_R. Bridges_) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 146 Pitch here the tent, while the old horse grazes (_G. Meredith_) 86
Row till the land dip 'neath (_T. Sturge Moore_) . . . . . . . 75
Say what you will, there is not in the world (_W. Blunt_) . . 45 Shall we but turn from braggart pride (_L. Binyon_) . . . . . 20 She walks--the lady of my delight (_A. Meynell_) . . . . . . . 134 Shy as the squirrel and wayward as the swallow (_G. Meredith_) 158 Sitting at times over a hearth that burns (_H. Newbolt_) . . . 15 Slight as thou art, thou art enough to hide (_A. Meynell_) . . 128 So, without overt breach, we fall apart (_W. Watson_) . . . . 142 Softly along the road of evening (_W. de la Mare_) . . . . . . 77 Sombre and rich the skies (_L. Johnson_) . . . . . . . . . . . 10 Spring goeth all in white (_R. Bridges_) . . . . . . . . . . . 78
Tell the tune his feet beat (_A. S. Cripps_) . . . . . . . . . 32 The dove did lend me wings. I fled away (_W. Blunt_) . . . . 79 The fountain murmuring of sleep (_A. Symons_) . . . . . . . . 154 The hill pines were sighing (_R. Bridges_) . . . . . . . . . . 68
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The Lady Poverty was fair (_A. Meynell_) . . . . . . . . . . . 131 The moon is up: the stars are bright (_A. Noyes_) . . . . . . 14 There is a hill beside the silver Thames (_R. Bridges_) . . . 70 There's a breathless hush in the Close to-night (_H. Newbolt_) 115 These hearts were woven of human joys and cares (_R. Brooke_) 24 This is a sacred city built of marvellous earth (_J. Masefield_) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 123 This labouring, vast, Tellurian galleon (_F. Thompson_) . . . 149 This was her table, these her trim outspread (_J. B. B. Nichols_) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9 Through the sunny garden (_M. E. Coleridge_) . . . . . . . . . 37 Time, you old gipsy man (_R. Hodgson_) . . . . . . . . . . . . 7 'Tis but a week since down the glen (_G. Gould_) . . . . . . . 124 To-day, all day, I rode upon the down (_W. Blunt_) . . . . . . 79 To the forgotten dead (_M. L. Woods_) . . . . . . . . . . . . 12 To the heart of youth the world is a highwayside (_R. L. Stevenson_) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 113 Too soothe and mild your lowland airs (_L. Abercrombie_) . . . 36 Troy Town is covered up with weeds (_J. Masefield_) . . . . . 3 Trusty, dusky, vivid, true (_R. L. Stevenson_) . . . . . . . . 157 Twilight it is, and the far woods are dim, and the rooks cry and call (_J. Masefield_) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 138
Under the wide and starry sky (_R. L. Stevenson_) . . . . . . 90
Very old are the woods (_W. de la Mare_) . . . . . . . . . . . 1
What gods have met in battle to arouse (_A. E._) . . . . . . . 27 What heart could have thought you? (_F. Thompson_) . . . . . . 127 What is this life, if, full of care (_W. B. Davies_) . . . . . 101 What of vile dust? the preacher said (_G. K. Chesterton_) . . 154 What shall I your true-love tell (_F. Thompson_) . . . . . . . 168 When I am living in the Midlands (_H. Belloc_) . . . . . . . . 43 When I did wake this morn from sleep (_W. H. Davies_) . . . . 67 When June is come, then all the day (_R. Bridges_) . . . . . . 152 When men were all asleep the snow came flying (_R. Bridges_) 91 When skies are blue and days are bright (_K. Tynan_) . . . . . 69 When you are old and gray and full of sleep (_W. B. Yeats_) 161 When we fought campaigns (in the long Christmas rains) (_R. Macaulay_) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 23 Where the thistle lifts a purple crown (_F. Thompson_) . . . . 143 With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children (_L. Binyon_) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 26
Ye have robbed, said he, ye have slaughtered and made an end (_H. Newbolt_) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17 Yonder in the heather there's a bed for sleeping (_A. Smith_) 35 Youth now flees on feathered foot (_R. L. Stevenson_) . . . . 107