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CONTENTS PAGE CLXXI. 543 Men marvel at the works of man CLXXII. To Master Andrew Lang . 544 You, that are much a fisher in the pool CLXXIII. To the Stormy Petrel . . 545 Ever perilous and precious, like an ember from the fire CLXXIV. . , . . . . ... 546 The indefensible impulse of my blood CLXXV 546 Who would think, herein to look CLXXVI. Epistle to Charles Baxter 547 Noo lyart leaves blaw ower the green CLXXVII. Ad Martialem 549 God knows, my Martial, if we two could be CLXXVIII. De M. Antonio 550 Now, Antonius, in a smiling age CLXXIX. , . 550 Not roses to the rose, I trow CLXXX. To Miss Rawlinson . . . 551 Of the many flowers you brought me
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