INDEX TO FIRST LINES

PAGE
The brook along the Romsey road[ 3]
A portly Wood-louse, full of cares[ 5]
When the wind blows without the garden walls[ 7]
How late in the wet twilight doth that bird[ 8]
Of Sorrow, ’tis as Saints have said[ 9]
Within our garden walls you see[10]
The fuchsias dangle on their stem[11]
My night-dress hangs on fire-guard rail[12]
While I stand upon the pavement and I dress the dusty stall[13]
When by the fire-light Dulcibel[15]
Whom meet we, Betsey, in the wood?[16]
How few alack[17]
’Tis the old wife at Rickling, she[19]
Pull out my couch across the fire[21]
When the Wind comes up the lane[22]
What dusky branches fret the yellow sky[23]
Three candles had her cake[25]
The Baby slumbers through the night[26]
With a full house of other folks[27]
He who a mangold-patch doth hoe[30]
Throw up the cinders, let the night wear through[31]
When elm-buds turn from red to green[32]
Vainly, my Betsey, to the weeping day[34]
O the trucks that leave Southampton bring a smell of twine and tar[36]
When the young Spring in Betsey’s fingers sets[38]
Permit, Dear Sir, that the judicious grieve[39]
’Twas bought in Bruges, the shop was poor[41]
The sun sank, and the wind uprist whose note[43]
My Betsey-Jane it would not do[45]
In Bethlehem Town by lantern light[46]
Playthings my Betsey hath, the snail’s cast shell[48]
I am not lightly moved, my grief was dumb[49]
You taught me ways of gracefulness and fashions of address[51]
You that have fenced about my storm-swept ways[52]
Pardon, Dear Sir, if with intrusive pen[53]
When I was small, great joy it was to see[56]
We came on Christmas Day[57]
On the high frosty fields afoot at dawn[59]
Now night hath fallen on the little town[60]
Dear, the delightful world I see[61]
So ’tis your will to have a cell[63]
My Sorrow diligent would sweep[65]
Here lies A. B. who, four years from her birth[67]
On the painted bridge at Mottisfont above the Test I’ve stood[70]
It is told of the painter Da Vinci[72]
Follow, my Betsey-Jane, as best you can[75]
Scarce hath the crookèd scythe[77]
Four-paws, the kitten from the farm[79]
Four-paws, we know the sun is white[81]
Time, cunning smith, hath set you in my heart[83]
I saw myself encircled in the grey[84]
Now candle-flames disperse the rout[86]
In Sarum Close, when she had said her say[87]
O thou who ’neath the umbrageous trees[88]
The world’s a quarry for whose spoils[89]
Whiffin, with all thy faults, I love thee still[90]
An old white Jocko, kindly and urbane[91]
By brook and bent[98]
So now my Thames is fairly on the turn[100]
So, dear, have you and Nurse conspired[101]
Four alders guard a bridge of planks[103]
Quite given o’er to shameful destinies[105]
O valiant reach of land that doth include[105]
The shop-girl in my fingers laid[107]
The common pavement dull and grey[108]
She ate her oat-cake by the fire[109]
Here, Betsey, where the sainfoin blows[110]
You to whose soul a death propitious brings[112]
The mallow blooms in late July[117]
Now Hertha hath, without a doubt[118]
Prythee what mad contentments canst thou find[119]
When Sir Matho lay a-dying and his feet were growing cold[120]
Yourself in bed[124]
Lord, when to Thine embrace I run[126]

SOME OPINIONS OF THE PRESS

“A poem by Mrs. Helen Parry Eden, ‘A Suburban Night’s Entertainment,’ is in itself good enough to sustain the Englishwoman’s reputation as a judge of verse.”

“A delightful fable.”

“The most sensational feature of this number.”

The Westminster Gazette.

“A very pretty and finished piece of descriptive verse.”

The Queen.

“A little masterpiece.”

“Jacob Tonson” in The New Age.

Transcriber’s Notes:

The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.

Typographical errors have been silently corrected.