| PAGE |
| Across the streaming flood, the deep ravine | 286 |
| After dead centuries | 168 |
| Agincourt, Agincourt | 3 |
| Ah, now we know the long delay | 297 |
| Amid the loud ebriety of War | 96 |
| An effigy of brass | 133 |
| A perfect peaceful stillness reigns | 316 |
| A plenteous place is Ireland for hospitable cheer | 225 |
| Are you not weary in your distant places | 196 |
| Arvon’s heights hide the bright sun from our gazing | 171 |
| A terrible and splendid trust | 239 |
| Attend, all ye who list to hear our noble England’s praise | 74 |
| Attend you, and give ear awhile | 21 |
| Away with bayonet and with lance | 63 |
| A wee bird cam’ to our ha’ door | 205 |
| A wonderful joy our eyes to bless | 122 |
| Blows the wind to-day, and the sun and the rain are flying | 196 |
| Bonnie Charlie’s noo awa’ | 198 |
| Breathes there the man, with soul so dead | 183 |
| Britain fought her sons of yore | 85 |
| By crag and lonely moor she stands | 254 |
| By the Boer lines at Congella | 288 |
| By this, though deep the evening fell | 183 |
| Cam’ ye by Athol, lad wi’ the philabeg | 199 |
| Come, all ye jolly sailors bold | 44 |
| Come, cheer up, my lads, ’tis to glory we steer | 35 |
| Come, if you dare, our trumpets sound | 31 |
| Come, my hearties—work will stand | 302 |
| Cooee! I send my voice | 318 |
| Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear | 17 |
| Cromwell, our chief of men, who through a cloud | 24 |
| Daddy Neptune one day to Freedom did say | 55 |
| Dear Cymru, ’mid thy mountains soaring high | 173 |
| Dear Harp of my country! in darkness I found thee | 216 |
| Despond who will—I heard a voice exclaim | 51 |
| Did they dare, did they dare to slay Owen Roe O’Neill | 227 |
| Does haughty Gaul invasion threat | 181 |
| Drake he’s in his hammock an’ a thousand mile away | 149 |
| Drake’s luck to all that sail with Drake | 150 |
| Effingham, Grenville, Raleigh, Drake | 147 |
| England, awake! awake! awake | 45 |
| England, England, England | She stands alone: ally nor friend has she | 124 |
| She stands, a thousand wintered tree | 143 |
| Shy bird of the silver arrows of song | 247 |
| Some talk of Alexander, and some of Hercules | 42 |
| Son of the Ocean Isle | 72 |
| Sons in my gates of the West | 136 |
| Speak gently, gently tread | 273 |
| Speed, bonnie boat, like a bird on the wing | 207 |
| Steep is the soldier’s path; nor are the heights | 58 |
| Still stand thy ruins ’neath the Indian sky | 275 |
| Sun-showered land! largess of golden light | 286 |
| Sye, do yer ’ear thet bugle callin’ | 147 |
| The Campbells are comin’, O-ho, O-ho | 193 |
| The camp-fire gleams resistance | 305 |
| The cool and pleasant days are past | 274 |
| The feast is spread through England | 112 |
| The fifteenth day of July | 18 |
| The forward youth that would appear | 25 |
| The harp that once through Tara’s halls | 213 |
| Their groves o’ sweet myrtle let foreign lands reckon | 182 |
| The Isle of Roses in her Lindian shrine | 103 |
| The Isles of Greece, the Isles of Greece | 65 |
| The Little Black Rose shall be red at last | 229 |
| The Minstrel Boy to the war is gone | 212 |
| The news frae Moidart cam’ yestreen | 205 |
| There are boys to-day in the city slum and the home of wealth and pride | 300 |
| There’s a land, a dear land, where the rights of the free | 92 |
| There was a sound of revelry by night | 67 |
| There was heard the sound of a coming foe | 71 |
| The seaman slept—all nature sleeps; a sacred stillness there | 293 |
| The waves are dashing proudly down | 267 |
| The weary day rins down and dies | 126 |
| They called Thee Merry England in old time | 50 |
| They lie unwatched, in waste and vacant places | 303 |
| They say that ‘war is hell,’ the ‘great accursed’ | 109 |
| This England never did, nor never shall | 11 |
| This royal throne of kings, this sceptr’d isle | 11 |
| Thy voice is heard through rolling drums | 83 |
| To-day the people gather from the streets | 120 |
| To horse! to horse! the standard flies | 189 |
| Toll for the Brave | 38 |
| To mute and to material things | Printed by Ballantine, Hanson & Co.
Edinburgh & London
|
