A steed, a steed of matchless speed Avenge, O Lord, thy slaughtered saints, whose bones Away, let nought to love displeasing A wee bird came to our ha' door Cold in the earth-and the deep snow piled above thee 319 Fair stood the wind for France. False world, good night, since thou hast brought False world, thou liest; thou canst not lend Fear no more the heat o' the sun First-born of Chaos, who so fair didst come Five years have passed; five summers, with the length Forget not yet the tried intent Fresh clad from heaven in robes of white Friend faber, cast me a round hollow ball From you have I been absent in the spring 260 Go, silly worm, drudge, trudge, and travel Go, Soul, the body's guest Great Monarch of the world, from whose power springs Green little vaulter on the sunny grass. Grieve not, dear love, although we often part. Hail, beauteous stranger of the grove!. Hail to thee, blithe Spirit Hamelin Town's in Brunswick. Happy the man, whose wish and care Hardly we breathe, although the air be free Hence, loathed Melancholy Hence, vain deluding Joys Here lies a piece of Christ; a star in dust How fresh, oh Lord, how sweet and clean How wisely Nature did decree I do confess thou'rt smooth and fair If all the world and Love were young. 24 If aught of oaten stop, or pastoral song If, dumb too long, the drooping Muse hath stayed If I had thought thou could'st have died If the base violence of wicked men If thou wilt ease thine heart If women could be fair, and yet not fond I give thee treasures hour by hour I hear no more the locust beat I love to rise ere gleams the tardy light 182 205 306 354 303 17 353 349 230 387 FF |