Page:Fugitive Poetry 1600-1878.djvu/605
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INDEX OF FIRST LINES.
587
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Open now Thy gates of beauty
"One Prior!" and is this, this all the fame
Organs that gentlemen play, my boy
Our bodies are like shoes which off we cast
Our darling is baptized to-day
Our life is short and 'tis
Out from tower and from steeple rang the sudden New-Year bells
Pain was my portion
Perched on a rock and caged afar
Pity, my lord, the wretched plight
Play on, my little one! fair is thine hour
Poetry—Poetry!
Print, comrades, print: a noble task
Rab, when ye crack about the mire
Raise my pillow, husband, dearest
Reader, who gazing on this lettered stone
Remember me, when summer friends surround thee
Remember thy Creator now
Return, and come to God
Rise, ye Croats, fierce and strong
River, river, little river
Row weel, my boatie, row weel
Sad city of the silent place
Save when the sun's resplendent ray
Say, watchman, what of the night?
Say, why should friendship grieve for those?
See a pin, and pick it up
See how around the glowing flame
Shall they bury me in the deep?
Shall we all die?
She comes! she comes! with her flashing eyes
She is my only girl
Should Gaelic speech be e'er forgot?
Sieze thy pencil, child of art
Since our foes to invade us have long been preparing
Sleep soft in dust: wait the Almighty's will
Slept you well? "Very well." My draught did good
Some sing of roast beef, and some sing of kail brose
Some sing the peaceful pleasures of the plain
Some talk of Alexander
Something should remain unseen
Songster of the russet coat
Speak it not lightly! 'tis a holy thing
Spirit of God, that moved of old
Star of the evening! How I love to mark
Star of the morn, whose placid ray