The Golden Treasury of the best songs and lyrical poems in the English Language |
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 | 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| CLII. |
| CLIII. |
| CLIV. |
| CLV. |
| CLVI. |
| CLVII. |
| CLVIII. |
| CLIX. |
| CLX. |
| CLXI. |
| CLXII. |
| CLXIII. |
| CLXIV. |
| CLXV. |
| CLXVI. |
| CLXVII. |
| CLXVIII. |
| CLXIX. |
| CLXX. |
| CLXXI. |
| CLXXII. |
| CLXXIII. |
| CLXXIV. |
| CLXXV. |
| CLXXVI. |
| CLXXVII. |
| CLXXVIII. |
| CLXXIX. |
| CLXXX. |
| CLXXXI. |
| CLXXXII. |
| CLXXXIII. |
| CLXXXIV. |
| CLXXXV. |
| CLXXXVI. |
| CLXXXVII. |
| CLXXXVIII. |
| CLXXXIX. |
| CXC. |
| CXCI. |
| CXCII. |
| CXCIII. |
| CXCIV. |
| CXCV. |
| CXCVI. |
| CXCVII. |
| CXCVIII. |
| CXCIX. |
| CC. |
| CCI. |
| CCII. |
| CCIII. |
| CCIV. |
| CCV. |
| CCVI. |
| CCVII. |
| 4. |
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 | The Golden Treasury |  |
For I broke the bond. That day my nurse had brought me the child.
The small sweet face was flush'd, but it coo'd to the Mother and smiled.
‘Anything ailing,’ I ask'd her, ‘with baby?’ She shook her head,
And the Motherless Mother kiss'd it, and turn'd in her haste and fled.
The small sweet face was flush'd, but it coo'd to the Mother and smiled.
‘Anything ailing,’ I ask'd her, ‘with baby?’ She shook her head,
And the Motherless Mother kiss'd it, and turn'd in her haste and fled.
| The Golden Treasury | |