In the hollow Silver voices ripple and cry Follow, O follow! - Francis Turner Palgrave

Let the children play And sit like flowers upon thy grave And crown with flowers,—that hardly have A briefer blooming-tide than they.

Earth all one tomb lies round me, Domed with an iron sky: And God Himself in His power, God cannot save me! I cry.

This little Collection differs, it is believed, from others in the attempt made to include in it all the best original lyrical pieces and songs in our language, by writers not living, and none besides the best. The Editor will regard as his fittest readers those who love poetry so well, that he can offer them nothing not already known and valued.