The hart above the rest, the hunter's noblest game GEORGE THOMAS HARRISON WEIR E. M. WIMPERIS F. CHIFFLART JOSEPH NASH BIRKET FOSTER St. Augustine and Monica With Cherubim and Seraphim to sing thy praise. JOHN FRANKLIN I love the sea, she is my fellow-creature The highest honours that the world could boast Thrice happy he who by some shady grove Thrice, oh thrice happy, shepherd's life and state. By the streams of Tiber. Summons all her sweet powers for a note To war and arms I fly E. M. WIMPERIS PERCIVAL SKELTON JOHN GILBERT FREDERICK TAYLER JOHN GILBERT JOSEPH NASH E M. WIMPERIS E. M. WIMPERIS F. PICKERSGILL F. PICKERSGILL F. PICKERSGILL Where Thames among the wanton valleys strays. C. STONEHOUSE River wealth and beauty. Milton's home Hence, loathed Melancholy Mirth, admit me of thy crew Till the dappled dawn doth rise HARRISON WEIR C. W. COPE. H. J. TOWNSEND. T. CRESWICK 154 158 160 . 161 But bright Cecilia raised the wonder higher Love has still something of the sea Built uniform, not little, nor too great To all you ladies now at land. Little gossip, blithe and hale Meanwhile he smokes, and laughs at merry tales. Down bend the banks, the trees depending grow The cord slides swiftly through his glowing hands GEORGE THOMAS . . T. CRESWICK JOHN GILBERT W. H. ROGERS E. M. WIMPERIS BIRKET FOSTER T. KENNEDY E. M. WIMPERIS M. A. MADOT JOHN GILBERT BIRKET FOSTER . 176 177 182 . 197 Tailpiece. The grave-yard . . . And hamlets brown, and dim discovered spires . The hawthorn bush, with seats beneath the shade. Drawn by T. KENNEDY BIRKET FOSTER BIRKET FOSTER E. V. B.. BIRKET FOSTER BIRKET FOSTER T. KENNEDY T. CRESWICK T. CRESWICK C. STONEHOUSE . T. WEBSTER 325 He chid their wanderings, but relieved their pain Near yonder thorn, that lifts its head on high. T. WEBSTER. J. C. HORSLEY. Drawn by . T. CRESWICK T. CRESWICK C. W. COPE. The rattling terrors of the vengeful snake They have taken his very heart's blood In every object here I see. Now see him mounted once again. “Stop, stop, John Gilpin!—here's the house!" Whereat his horse did snort, as he The cast-away at sea . Yet stay, fair lady: rest awhile The old shepherd's dog Wi kindly welcome Jenny brings him ben. The soldier's return Soldier's cap and laurel . Though the tempest top-gallant masts smack T. CRESWICK E. K. JOHNSON GEORGE THOMAS · 353 GEORGE THOMAS • 357 • 359 The sculptured dead on each side seemed to freeze. Her maiden eyes divine, fix'd on the floor And grasp'd his fingers in her palsied hand He follow'd through a lowly arched way HARRISON WEIR HARRISON WEIR "Ah wretch!" said they, "the bird to slay". When looking westward I beheld a something in the sky. BIRKET FOSTER 480 W. SMALL 491 GEORGE THOMAS E. H. WEHNERT E. H. WEHNERT E. H. WEHNERT E. H. WEHNERT. E. DUNCAN . When that strange shape drove suddenly betwixt E. DUNCAN . E. H. WEHNERT E. H. WEHNERT E. H. WEHNERT E. H. WEHNERT E. DUNCAN I heard, and in my soul discerned two voices in E. H. WEHNERT the air The moon was high; the dead men stood together I heard them talk, Why, this is strange, I trow! E. H. WEHNERT 508 |