III. Michael Angelo and Benvenuto Cellini
          IV. Fra Sebastiano del Piombo
           V. Palazzo Belvedere
          VI. Palazzo Cesarini
        PART THIRD.
           I. Monologue
          II. Vigna di Papa Giulio
         III. Bindo Altoviti
          IV. In the Coliseum
           V. Macello de' Corvi
          VI. Michael Angelo's Studio
         VII. The Oaks of Monte Luca
        VIII. The Dead Christ

TRANSLATIONS.
     Prelude
     From the Spanish
       Coplas de Manrique
       Sonnets.
            I. The Good Shepherd
           II. To-morrow
          III. The Native Land
           IV. The Image of God
            V. The Brook
       Ancient Spanish Ballads.
            I. Rio Verde, Rio Verde
           II. Don Nuno, Count of Lara
          III. The peasant leaves his plough afield
       Vida de San Millan
       San Miguel, the Convent
       Song: "She is a maid of artless grace"
       Santa Teresa's Book-Mark
       From the Cancioneros
            I. Eyes so tristful, eyes so tristful
           II. Some day, some day
          III. Come, O death, so silent flying
           IV. Glove of black in white hand bare
      From the Swedish and Danish.
         Passages from Frithiof's Saga
            I. Frithiof's Homestead
           II. A Sledge-Ride on the Ice
          III. Frithiof's Temptation
           IV. Frithiof's Farewell
         The Children of the Lord's Supper
         King Christian
         The Elected Knight
         Childhood
      From the German.
         The Happiest Land
         The Wave
         The Dead
         The Bird and the Ship
         Whither?
         Beware!
         Song of the Bell
         The Castle by the Sea
         The Black Knight
         Song of the Silent Land
         The Luck of Edenhall
         The Two Locks of Hair
         The Hemlock Tree
         Annie of Tharaw
         The Statue over the Cathedral Door
         The Legend of the Crossbill
         The Sea hath its Pearls
         Poetic Aphorisms
         Silent Love
         Blessed are the Dead
         Wanderer's Night-Songs
         Remorse
         Forsaken
         Allah
     From the Anglo-Saxon.
         The Grave
         Beowulf's Expedition to Heort
         The Soul's Complaint against the Body
     From the French
          Song: Hark! Hark!
          Song: "And whither goest thou, gentle sigh"
          The Return of Spring
          Spring
          The Child Asleep
          Death of Archbishop Turpin
          The Blind Girl of Castel-Cuille
          A Christmas Carol
          Consolation
          To Cardinal Richelieu
          The Angel and the Child
          On the Terrace of the Aigalades
          To my Brooklet
          Barreges
          Will ever the dear days come back again?
          At La Chaudeau
          A Quiet Life
          The Wine of Jurancon
          Friar Lubin
          Rondel
          My Secret
    From the Italian.
          The Celestial Pilot
          The Terrestrial Paradise
          Beatrice
          To Italy
          Seven Sonnets and a Canzone
             I. The Artist
            II. Fire.
           III. Youth and Age
            IV. Old Age
             V. To Vittoria Colonna
            VI. To Vittoria Colonna
           VII. Dante
          VIII. Canzone
          The Nature of Love
    From the Portuguese.
          Song: If thou art sleeping, maiden
    From Eastern sources.
          The Fugitive
          The Siege of Kazan
          The Boy and the Brook
          To the Stork
    From the Latin.
         Virgils First Eclogue
         Ovid in Exile

VOICES OF THE NIGHT

<Greek poem here—Euripides.>

PRELUDE.

Pleasant it was, when woods were green,
  And winds were soft and low,
To lie amid some sylvan scene.
Where, the long drooping boughs between,
Shadows dark and sunlight sheen
  Alternate come and go;

Or where the denser grove receives
  No sunlight from above,
But the dark foliage interweaves
In one unbroken roof of leaves,
Underneath whose sloping eaves
  The shadows hardly move.

Beneath some patriarchal tree
  I lay upon the ground;
His hoary arms uplifted he,
And all the broad leaves over me
Clapped their little hands in glee,
  With one continuous sound;—

A slumberous sound, a sound that brings
  The feelings of a dream,
As of innumerable wings,
As, when a bell no longer swings,
Faint the hollow murmur rings
  O'er meadow, lake, and stream.

And dreams of that which cannot die,
  Bright visions, came to me,
As lapped in thought I used to lie,
And gaze into the summer sky,
Where the sailing clouds went by,
  Like ships upon the sea;

Dreams that the soul of youth engage
  Ere Fancy has been quelled;
Old legends of the monkish page,
Traditions of the saint and sage,
Tales that have the rime of age,
  And chronicles of Eld.

And, loving still these quaint old themes,
  Even in the city's throng
I feel the freshness of the streams,
That, crossed by shades and sunny gleams,
Water the green land of dreams,
  The holy land of song.

Therefore, at Pentecost, which brings
  The Spring, clothed like a bride,
When nestling buds unfold their wings,
And bishop's-caps have golden rings,
Musing upon many things,
  I sought the woodlands wide.

The green trees whispered low and mild;
  It was a sound of joy!
They were my playmates when a child,
And rocked me in their arms so wild!
Still they looked at me and smiled,
  As if I were a boy;

And ever whispered, mild and low,
  "Come, be a child once more!"
And waved their long arms to and fro,
And beckoned solemnly and slow;
O, I could not choose