INDEX OF FIRST LINES A barking sound the Shepherd hears, 338. A gentle knight was pricking on the plaine, 22. All that I know, 773. All thoughts, all passions, all delights, 367. Among these latter busts we count by scores, And is this Yarrow? 354. --- This the Stream, Breathes there the man, with soul so dead, 385. Bright tulips, we do know, 123. Bury the Great Duke, 666. But anxious cares the pensive nymph opprest, But do not let us quarrel any more, 787. Calme was the day, and through the trem- Close by those meads, for ever crown'd with Clouds, lingering yet, extend in solid bars, 340. Come, dear children, let us away, 596. Come down, O maid, from yonder mountain Come into the garden, Maud, 664. Creep into thy narrow bed, 599. Cromwell, our chief of men, who through a Cupid, as he lay among, 119. Cyriack, this three years' day these eyes, Daughter of Jove, relentless Power, 247. Dear, though to part it be a hell, 119. Duncan Gray cam here to woo, 299. Earth has not anything to show more fair. 332. Fair as the earliest beam of eastern light, 400. Had I but plenty of money, money enough Hail to thee, blithe Spirit! 535. Happy the man whose wish and care, 205. Hark, hark! the lark at Heaven's gate sings, Harp of the North! that mouldering long hast Hast thou a charm to stay the morning-star, Ha! whare ye gaun, ye crowlin ferlie? 287. Her eyes the glow-worm lend thee, 124. High in the breathless Hall the Minstrel sate, High on a throne of royal state, which far, High time now gan it wex for Una fayre, 93. I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, I dreamed that, as I wandered by the way, If aught of oaten stop, or pastoral song, 241. If from the public way you turn your steps, If this great world of joy and pain, 357. In the deserted, moon-blanched street, 600. In these deep solitudes and awful cells, 220. In this lone, open glade I lie, 602. In vain to me the smiling mornings shine, In Xanadu did Kubla Khan, 377. I said Then, dearest, since 't is so, 776. I sprang to the stirrup, and Joris, and he, Is there for honest poverty, 300. Is thy face like thy mother's, my fair child, It is a beauteous evening, calm and free, 332. "It is not to be thought of that the Flood," It little profits that an idle king, 624. It was a dreary morning when the wheels, 316. I weep for Adonais- he is dead! 518. Just for a handful of silver he left us, 760. Kentish Sir Byng stood for his King, 759. King Charles, and who'll do him right now? Know ye the land where the cypress and Leodogran, the king of Cameliard, 670. Let me not to the marriage of true minds, 118. Like as the waves make towards the pebbled Live, live with me, and thou shalt see, 123. Lord, Thou hast given me a cell, 125. Maid of Athens, ere we part, 449. Milton! thou should'st be living at this hour, Much have I travell'd in the realms of gold, Music, when soft voices die, 542. My hair is grey, but not with years, 470. My heart leaps up when I behold, 330. My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not My lov'd, my honor'd, much respected friend! My seventeenth year was come, 315. My sister! my sweet sister! if a name, 452. Nobly, nobly Cape Saint Vincent to the North- No cloud, no relique of the sunken day, 368. Nought is there under heav'ns wide hollow- Now the golden morn aloft, 248. Now westlin winds and slaught'ring guns, Nuns fret not at their convent's narrow room, O blithe New-comer! I have heard, 336. O Friend! I know not which way I must look, Oft I had heard of Lucy Gray, 310. Oh goodly golden chayne! wherewith yfere, 76. O, Jenny's a' weet, poor body, 298. O Lord our lord, thy name how merveillous, O loyal to the royal in thyself, 749. O Mary, at thy window be! 301. O mistress mine, where are you roaming? 115. One word is too often profaned, 542. On the sea and at the Hogue, sixteen hundred O, saw ye bonie Lesley, 299. O that those lips had language! Life has passed, O that 't were possible, 665. O thou by Nature taught, 238. O Thou that in the Heavens does dwell, 293. O, Willie brew'd a peck o' maut, 296. O ye, wha are sae guid yoursel, 288. Queen Guinevere had fled the court, and sat, Remote, unfriended, melancholy, slow, 249. Said Abner, "At last thou art come! Ere I Scorn not the Sonnet; Critic, you have Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled, 299. She should never have looked at me, 762. 'Shut, shut the door, good John!' fatigued I Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless Som tyme this world was so stedfast and Souls of Poets dead and gone, 544. St. Agnes' Eve-Ah, bitter chill it was! 560. Strange fits of passion have I known, 308. Strong Son of God, immortal Love, 629. Sweet and low, sweet and low, 627. Sweet, be not proud of those two eyes, 119. Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tell me where is fancy bred, 115. That second time they hunted me, 774. That story which the bold Sir Bedivere, 742. The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the The Chieftain reared his form on high, 409. The noble hart, that harbours vertuous The Poet's soul was with me at that time, 320. There be none of Beauty's daughters, 451. There's not a joy the world can give like that There's not a nook within this solemn Pass, The splendor falls on castle walls, 627. The world is too much with us; late and soon, This is the month, and this the happy morn, Though the day of my destiny's over, 452. 193. Three years she grew in sun and shower, 309. 'Tis morning; and the sun with ruddy orb, 'T is the middle of night by the castle clock, Titan! to whose immortal eyes, 483. To die be given us, or attain! 581. - To me, fair friend, you never can be old, 118. 'Twas at the royal feast, for Persia won, 196. Under the greenwood tree, 115. Verse, a breeze mid blossoms straying, 382. Waken, lords and ladies gay, 412. |