Isaac Ashford

George Crabbe 316
Is There for Honest Poverty · · · · Robert Burns 119
Isles of Greece, The . . . . . . . Lord Byron 162
John Gilpin .

. Cowper 305
Johnson, Dr., and Carlyle :

.John Burroughs 142
Knight, the Yeoman, and the Prioress, The,

Geoffrey Chaucer 242

Thomas Carlyle 208
Lamb, The . . . . . .


William Blake

. Charlotte Bronté 9
Lovely Lass of Inverness

. Robert Burns 125
Lovest Thou Me?.

. Cowper 314
Maid of Athens .

Lord Byron

Mary Morison .

obert Burns 124
Mary Unwin, To.

. Cowper 315
Mazeppa's Ride

Lord Byron 172
Minstrel's Song.'

homas Chatterton 238
Musical Instrument,
Elizabeth Barrett Browning

My Heart and I .
Elizabeth Barrett Browning

My Wife's a Winso

ling. . . Robert Burns 122
Naseby Field .

. . Thomas Carlyle
On the Receipt of his Mother's Picture

Orphan Child, The

Charlotte Bronte

People at Wuthering Heights, The . . Emily Bronté 26
Pet-Name. The

Elizabeth Barrett Browning 60
Picture of Wild Nature on the Mississippi, A,

Châteaubriand 233
Pied Piper of Hamelin, The . . . . Robert Browning 65
Pray Employ Major Namb

Wilkie Collins 263
Prince of Wales, The . . . . Charles F. Browne 40
Prisoner of Chillon. The.

Lord Byron 151
Pilgrim's Progress, The Author's Apology for His,

John Bunyan 114
Protest against Pharisaism, A . . . Charlotte Bronté 7
Red, Red Rose, A . .

. Robert Burns

. . .
Resignation .

Thomas Chatterton 240
Rhyme of the A

: S. T. Coleridge 260
Rochester's Serenade

Charlotte Bronté 24
Rome. To.

Lord Byron 167
Rustic Scene, A

. . . .

. 1.

T. Coleridge
Sancho Panza in His Island

Cervantes 217
Scots Wha Hae

Robert Burns 121
Self-Control. On .

ord Chesterfield 247
She Walks in Beau

. Lord Byron 149
Shipwreck, The

. Lord Byron 175
Sleep, The

Barrett Browning 56
Star Spangled Banner Scene, The .. . George W. Cable 177

Edward Bulwer-Lytton 101
Teufelsdrockh's Night View of the City. Thomas Carlyle 204
. . William Cullen Bryant

Tiger. The . . . . .

William Blake
Venice . .

Lord Byron


Edward Bulwer
Waterfowl, Toa.

am Cullen Bryant

. John Curroughs
Women's Rights .

Cha les F. Browne 38
Work . . . . . .

. Thomas Carlyle 192

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WILLIAM BLAKE, painter, engraver and poet, born in London, 1757; died 1827. He invented a new process of engraving and many of his own sketches he transferred to the plate. In his later years he produced a number of poems of striking originality.


LITTLE lamb, who made thee?

L Dost thou know who made thee,
Gave thee life, and bid thee feed
By the stream and o'er the mead;
Gave thee clothing of delight,
Softest clothing, woolly, bright;
Gave thee such a tender voice,
Making all the vales rejoice?

Little lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?

Little lamb, I'll tell thee;

Little lamb, I'll tell thee:
He is called by thy name,
For He calls Himself a Lamb.
He is meek, and He is mild,
He became a little child.
I a child, and thou a lamb,
We are called by His name.

Little lamb, God bless thee!
Little lamb, God bless thee!



TIGER, tiger, burning bright

1 In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deep or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder and what art
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And, when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand and what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears
And watered heaven with their tears,
Did he smile His work to see?
Did He who made the lamb make thee?

Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare franie thy fearful symmetry?


CHARLOTTE BRONTÉ, novelist, born in Thornton, England, in 1816; died at Haworth in 1855. Her first books were written under the name of “ Currer Bell.” She wrote “ Shirley” in 1849, and her real name became at once known to the reading public, as many of the incidents of the story were recognized. “Jane Eyre," although her first effort, ranks as her best, and has taken its place among English classics.


(From Preface to Second Edition of “Jane Eyre”) To that class in whose eyes whatever is unusual

1 is wrong; whose ears detect in each protest against bigotry-that parent of crime—an insult to piety, that regent of God on earth, I would suggest to such doubters certain obvious distinctions; I would remind them of certain simple truths.

Conventionality is not morality. Self-righteousness is not religion. To attack the first is not to assail the last. To pluck the mask from the face of the Pharisee, is not to lift an impious hand to the crown of thorns. These things and deeds are diametrically opposed; they are as distinct as vice from virtue. Men too often confound them: they should not be confounded: appearance should not be mistaken for truth; narrow human doctrines, that only tend to elate and magnify a few, should not be substituted for the world-redeeming creed of Christ. Tbere is—I repeat it—a difference; and

it is a good, and not a bad action to mark broadly and clearly the line of separation between them.

The world may not like to see these ideas dissevered, for it has been accustomed to blend them; finding it convenient to make external show pass for sterling worth—to let whitewashed walls vouch for clean shrines. It may hate him who dares to scrutinize and expose—to raise the gilding, and show base metal under it—to penetrate the sepulchre, and reveal charnel relics: but hate as it will, it is indebted to him.

Ahab did not like Micaiah, because he never prophesied good concerning him, but evil: probably he liked the sycophant son of Chenaanah better; yet might Ahab have escaped a bloody death, had he but stopped his ears to flattery, and opened them to faithful counsel.

There is a man in our own days whose words are not framed to tickle delicate ears; who, to my thinking, comes before the great ones of society much as the son of Imlah came before the throned kings of Judah and Israel; and who speaks truth as deep, with a power as prophet-like and as vitala mien as dauntless and as daring. Is the satirist of “Vanity Fair” admired in high places? I cannot tell; but I think if some of those amongst whom he hurls the Greek-fire of his sarcasm, and over whom he flashes the levin-brand of his denunciation, were to take his warnings in time—they or their seed might yet escape a fatal Ramoth-Gilead.

Why have I alluded to this man? I have alluded to him, reader, because I think I see in him an intellect profounder and more unique than his contemporaries have yet recognized; because I regard him as the first social regenerator of the day-as the very master of that working corps who would restore to rectitude the warped system of things.

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