A barking sound the Shepherd hears, 338.
Ae fond kiss, then we sever! 296.

A gentle knight was pricking on the plaine, 22.
A glorious people vibrated again... 536.
Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight, 568.
A little mushroom table spread, 122.
All human things are subject to decay, 180.
All Nature seems at work. Slugs leave their
lair, 382.

All that I know, 773.

A simple Child, 303.

As Julia once a-slumbering lay, 120.

A slumber did my spirit seal, 309.

As one who hangs down-bending from the side,
319.

As thro' the land at eve we went, 627.

A sweet disorder in the dress, 119.

As when a ship, that flyes fayre under sayle,
55.

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever, 546.
At the midnight in the silence of the sleep-
time, 832.

Ave Maria! o'er the earth and sea, 498.
Avenge, O Lord, thy slaughtered Saints, whose
bones, 136.

A wanderer is man from his birth, 602.
Ay me! how many perils doe enfold, 69.

Bards of Passion and of Mirth, 560.
Behold her, single in the field, 335.
Behold! I see the haven nigh at hand, 101.
Beneath these fruit-tree boughs that shed, 334.
Beside the pleasant Mill of Trompington, 318.
Bid me to live, and I will live, 121.
Blow, blow, thou winter wind, 115.
Boot, saddle, to horse, and away! 760.
Break, break, break, 626.

Breathes there the man, with soul so dead, 385.
Bright Flower! whose home is everywhere, 334.
Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou
art! 580.

Bright tulips, we do know, 123.

Bury the Great Duke, 666.

But anxious cares the pensive nymph opprest,
215.

But do not let us quarrel any more, 787.
By this the northerne wagoner had set, 29.

Calme was the day, and through the trem-
bling ayre, 112.

Close by those meads, for ever crown'd with
flowers, 212.

Clouds, lingering yet, extend in solid bars, 340.
Coldly, sadly descends, 612.

Come, dear children, let us away, 596.

Come down, O maid, from yonder mountain
height, 628.

Come into the garden, Maud, 664.
Come unto these yellow sands, 115.
Comin thro' the rye, poor body, 298.
'Courage!' he said, and pointed toward the
land, 622.

Creep into thy narrow bed, 599.

Cromwell, our chief of men, who through a
cloud, 136.

Cupid, as he lay among, 119.

Cyriack, this three years' day these eyes,
though clear, 137.

Daughter of Jove, relentless Power, 247.
Day! Faster and more fast, 751.
Dear, though to part it be a hell, 119.
Dim as the borrow'd beams of moon and stars,
187.

Duncan Gray cam here to woo, 299.

Earth has not anything to show more fair, 332.
Earth, Ocean, Air, beloved brotherhood! 508.
Elaine the fair, Elaine the lovable, 699.
Eternal Spirit of the chainless Mind! 470.
Ethereal minstrel! pilgrim of the sky! 355.
Ever let the Fancy roam, 559.

Fair as the earliest beam of eastern light, 400.
Fair daffodils, we weep to see, 122.

Had I but plenty of money, money enough
and to spare, 764.

Hail to thee, blithe Spirit! 535.

Happy the man whose wish and care, 205.
Hark! ah, the nightingale, 598.

Hark, hark! the lark at Heaven's gate sings,
115.

Harp of the North! that mouldering long hast
hung, 392.

Hast thou a charm to stay the morning-star,
377.

Ha! whare ye gaun, ye crowlin ferlie? 287.
Hence, loathed Melancholy, 130.
Hence, vain deluding Joys, 132.
Her eyes the glow-worm lend thee, 124.

High in the breathless Hall the Minstrel sate,
345.

High on a throne of royal state, which far,
149.

High time now gan it wex for Una fayre, 93.
Home they brought her warrior dead, 627. .
'Ho!' quod the knight, 'good sir, na-more of
this,' 13.

How changed is here each spot man makes or
fills! 608.

How sleep the brave, who sink to rest, 238.

I am just seventeen years and five months
old, 798.

I am monarch of all I survey, 262.

I am poor brother Lippo, by your leave! 781.
I and Clive were friends - and why not? 827.
I arise from dreams of thee, 533.

I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers,
534.

I dreamed that, as I wandered by the way,
541.

If aught of oaten stop, or pastoral song, 241.
I fear thy kisses, gentle maiden, 541.

If from the public way you turn your steps,
324.

If this great world of joy and pain, 357.
I held it truth, with him who sings, 629.
I met a traveller from an antique land, 528.
In one of those excursions may they ne'er,
322.

In the deserted, moon-blanched street, 600.
In the hour of my distress, 124.

In these deep solitudes and awful cells, 220.
In these gay thoughts the Loves and Graces
shine, 205.

In this lone, open glade I lie, 602.

In vain to me the smiling mornings shine,
248.

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan, 377.

I said Then, dearest, since 't is so, 776.
I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds and bow-
ers, 119.

I sprang to the stirrup, and Joris, and he,

761.

Is there for honest poverty, 300.

Is this a fast, to keep, 126.

Is thy face like thy mother's, my fair child,
414.

It is a beauteous evening, calm and free, 332.
It is an ancient Mariner, 358.

"It is not to be thought of that the Flood,"
334.

It little profits that an idle king, 624.
I travelled among unknown men, 309.
It seems a day, 307.

It was a dreary morning when the wheels, 316.
I wandered lonely as a cloud, 337.

I weep for Adonais-he is dead! 518.

Just for a handful of silver he left us, 760.
John Anderson my jo, John, 295.
John Gilpin was a citizen, 273.

Kentish Sir Byng stood for his King, 759.

King Charles, and who'll do him right now?
760.

Know ye the land where the cypress and
myrtle, 456.

Leodogran, the king of Cameliard, 670.

Let me not to the marriage of true minds, 118.
Light flows our war of mocking words; and
yet, 601.

Like as the waves make towards the pebbled
shore, 117.

Live, live with me, and thou shalt see, 123.
Lo! I the man, whose Muse whylome did
maske, 21.

Lord, Thou hast given me a cell, 125.

Maid of Athens, ere we part, 449.
Many a green isle needs must be, 528.

Milton! thou should'st be living at this hour,
333.

Much have I travell'd in the realms of gold,
544.

Music, when soft voices die, 542.

My hair is grey, but not with years, 470.
My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains,
568.

My heart leaps up when I behold, 330.

My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not
here, 295.

My lov'd, my honor'd, much respected friend!
282.

My seventeenth year was come, 315.

My sister! my sweet sister! if a name, 452.
My thirst I slaked, and, from the cheerless
spot, 347.

Nobly, nobly Cape Saint Vincent to the North-
west died away, 766.

No cloud, no relique of the sunken day, 368.
No longer mourn for me when I am dead, 118.
Not marble, nor the gilded monuments, 117.
Not with more glories, in th' ethereal plain,
210.

Nought is there under heav'ns wide hollow-
nesse, 35.

Now the golden morn aloft, 248.

Now westlin winds and slaught'ring guns,
287.

Nuns fret not at their convent's narrow room,
340.

O blithe New-comer! I have heard, 336.
O, Brignall banks are wild and fair, 412.
Of all the cities in Romanian lands, 199.
Of a' the airts the wind can blaw, 295.
Of Man's first disobedience, and the fruit,
138.

O Friend! I know not which way I must look,
333.

Oft I had heard of Lucy Gray, 310.

Oh goodly golden chayne! wherewith yfere, 76.
O Rome, my country! city of the soul! 432.
Oh! snatch'd away in beauty's bloom, 455.
Oh, to be in England, 765.

O, Jenny's a' weet, poor body, 298.

O Lord our lord, thy name how merveillous,
10.

O loyal to the royal in thyself, 749.
O Mary, at thy window be! 301.

O mistress mine, where are you roaming? 115.
O, my luve is like a red, red rose, 298.
Once did she hold the gorgeous east in fee, 333.
On either side the river lie, 617.

One word is too often profaned, 542.

On the sea and at the Hogue, sixteen hundred
ninety-two, 823.

O, saw ye bonie Lesley, 299.

O that those lips had language! Life has passed,
276.

O that 't were possible, 665.

O thou by Nature taught, 238.

O Thou that in the Heavens does dwell, 293.
O thou, the wonder of all days! 125.
O thou! whatever title suit thee, 281.
O thou who bad'st thy turtles bear, 242.
O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's
being, 532.

O, Willie brew'd a peck o' maut, 296.

world! O life! O time! 543.

O ye, wha are sae guid yoursel, 288.

Queen Guinevere had fled the court, and sat,
732.

Remote, unfriended, melancholy, slow, 249.
Rough wind, that moanest loud, 543.
Rousseau, Voltaire, our Gibbon, and De
Staël, 470.

Said Abner, "At last thou art come! Ere I
tell, ere thou speak," 766.

Scorn not the Sonnet; Critic, you have
frowned, 356.

Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled, 299.
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, 579.
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? 116.
Shapcot! to thee the fairy state, 122.
She dwelt among the untrodden ways, 309.
She said: the pitying audience melt in tears,
217.

She should never have looked at me, 762.
She walks in beauty, like the night, 455.
"She was a Phantom of delight," 337.
Should auld acquaintance be forgot, 298.
Shut not so soon; the dull-ey'd night, 122.

'Shut, shut the door, good John!' fatigued I
said, 225.

Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless
sea, 117.

Som tyme this world was so stedfast and
stable, 1.

Souls of Poets dead and gone, 544.

St. Agnes' Eve-Ah, bitter chill it was! 560.
Stern Daughter of the Voice of God! 338.
Stop, Christian passer-by! - Stop, child of
God, 383.

Strange fits of passion have I known, 308.
Strew on her roses, roses, 581.

Strong Son of God, immortal Love, 629.
Sunset and evening star, 750.

Sweet and low, sweet and low, 627.
Sweet Auburn! loveliest village of the plain,
256.

Sweet, be not proud of those two eyes, 119.
Swiftly walk o'er the western wave, 542.

Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean,
627.

Tell me where is fancy bred, 115.

That second time they hunted me, 774.
That's my last Duchess painted on the wall,
773.

That story which the bold Sir Bedivere, 742.
That time of year thou mayst in me behold,
118.

The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the
fold, 456.

The Chieftain reared his form on high, 409.
The curfew tolls the knell of parting day, 245.
The Deil's awa, the Deil's awa, 297.
The Deil cam fiddlin thro' the town, 297.
The fountains mingle with the river, 534.
The Frost performs its secret ministry, 379.
The gallant Youth, who may have gained, 356.
The gloomy night is gath'ring fast, 290.
The isles of Greece, the Isles of Greece! 496.
The last tall son of Lot and Bellicent, 677.
The lovely lass of Inverness, 297.

The noble hart, that harbours vertuous
thought, 48.

The Poet's soul was with me at that time, 320.
The poplars are fell'd; farewell to the shade,
278.

There be none of Beauty's daughters, 451.
There is sweet music here that softer falls, 623.
There lies a vale in Ida, lovelier, 618.
There's a palace in Florence, the world knows
well, 778.

There's not a joy the world can give like that
it takes away, 450.

There's not a nook within this solemn Pass,
357.

There was a Boy; ye knew him well, ye cliffs,
307.

There was a lass, and she was fair! 301.

There was a roaring in the wind all night, 330.
There was a time when meadow, grove, and
stream, 342.

There was in Asie, in a greet citee, 11.
The sea is calm to-night, 598.

-

These to His Memory - since he held them
dear, 669.

The sky is overcast, 303.

The splendor falls on castle walls, 627.
The sun is warm, the sky is clear, 532.
The sun upon the Weirdlaw Hill, 413.
The twentieth year is well-nigh past, 279.
The way was long, the wind was cold, 384.
The woods decay, the woods decay and fall,
625.

The world is too much with us; late and soon,
341.

This is the month, and this the happy morn,
127.

Though the day of my destiny's over, 452.
Thou ling'ring star with less'ning ray, 296.
Thou still unravish'd bride of quietness, 567.
Thou youngest virgin-daughter of the skies,
193.

Three years she grew in sun and shower, 309.
Through Alpine meadows soft-suffused, 614.
Tir'd with all these, for restful death I cry, 117.
'Tis known, at least it should be, that
throughout, 484.

'Tis morning; and the sun with ruddy orb,
262.

'T is the middle of night by the castle clock,
370.

Titan! to whose immortal eyes, 483.
To die be given us, or attain! 581.
To fair Fidele's grassy tomb, 243.
Toll for the brave! 278.

To me, fair friend, you never can be old, 118.
To one who has been long in city pent, 544.
T' our tale. The feast was over, the slaves

gone, 498.

Toussaint, the most unhappy man of men!
333.

'Twas at the royal feast, for Persia won, 196.
'Twas on a lofty vase's side, 244.

Under the greenwood tree, 115.
Upon a time, before the faery broods, 570.
Up! up! my Friend, and quit your books, 304.

Verse, a breeze mid blossoms straying, 382.

Waken, lords and ladies gay, 412.
We are na fou, we're nae that fou, 296.