I climbed a hill as light fell short, 314 200 I edged back against the night, 360 I fled Him, down the nights and down I gat your letter, winsome Willie, 521 I have seen many things, 239 I hear it was charged against me that I I heard a thousand blended notes, 631 I like best those crotchety ones, 238 I met a traveller from an antique land, I must down to the seas again, to the I rise in the dawn, and I kneel and blow, I wrote some lines once on a time, 46 sky, 247 If I should die, think only of this of me, I'm a lean dog, a keen dog, a wild dog, I'm going to be a pirate with a bright I'm wearing awa', Jean, 483 In Flanders fields the poppies blow, 439 In the darkness, who would answer for In the deserted, moon-blanch'd street, In the greenest of our valleys, 216 It is a beauteous evening, calm and It is an ancient Mariner, 117 It is good to be out on the road, and It is not growing like a tree, 675 It was a lover and his lass, 682 It was a tall young oysterman lived It was many and many a year ago, I've a humble little motto, 35 Jenny kiss'd me when we met, 186 Just for a handful of silver he left us, 567 Kentish Sir Byng stood for his King, 143 Lars Porsena of Clusium, 94 Let me not to the marriage of true Life has loveliness to sell, 333 Little thinks, in the field, yon red- Long fed on boundless hopes, O race Look out! Look out, boys! Clear the Maid of Athens, ere we part, 540 Mine be a cot beside the hill, 670 Music, when soft voices die, 593 My aunt! my dear unmarried aunt, 177 My heart aches, and a drowsy numb- My heart leaps up when I behold, 640 My mind lets go a thousand things, 489 Nay, do not grieve tho' life be full of sadness, 330 Nay, Traveller! rest. This lonely Yew- No-Man's Land is an eerie sight, 417 Not of the princes and prelates with periwigged charioteers, 409 O beautiful for spacious skies, I O blithe New-comer! I have heard, 639 O Friend! I know not which way I O little city-gals, don't never go it, 171 O Mary, at thy window be, 508 “O Mary, go and call the cattle home,” O mistress mine, where are you roam- O my luve is like a red, red rose, 509 O wild West Wind, thou breath of O World, I cannot hold thee close Of a' the airts the wind can blaw, 506 Oft in the stilly night, 539 Often I think of the beautiful town, 228 Oh fair enough are sky and plain, 324 Oh, to be in England, 572 Oh, whar will we go we'n de great day Our bugles sang true, for the night- cloud had lower'd, 220 Out beyond the sunset, could I but Out of me unworthy and unknown, 460 Partner, remember the hills, 232 Poet of Nature, thou hast wept to Quinquireme of Nineveh from distant Remember me when I am gone away, 504 Season of mists and mellow fruitful- Shall I compare thee to a summer's day, Shall I, wasting in despair, 667 She dwelt among the untrodden ways, She is not fair to outward view, 591 Should auld acquaintance be forgot, 70 boughs are, 490 Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor Sleep; and my song shall build about Slow breaks the hushed June dawn, 436 Solemnly, mournfully, 66 Something there is that doesn't love a Sometimes when I am at tea with you, 334 Spanish waters, Spanish waters, you Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year's Stranger, if thou hast learned a truth Success is counted sweetest, 357 Sunset and evening star, 251 Swiftly walk o'er the western wave, 599 The gray sea and the long black land, 568 The night has a thousand eyes, 501 The sea is calm to-night, 545 The sheets were frozen hard, and they cut the naked hand, 324 The snow had begun in the gloaming, The sounding battles leave him nod- The spacious firmament on high, 344 The sun is warm, the sky is clear, 601 among the gusty trees, 24 The world is too much with us: late The year's at the spring, 568 There be none of Beauty's daughters, There is a pleasure in the pathless There is delight in singing, tho' none There is something in the autumn that There was a Boy; ye knew him well, ye There was a sound of revelry by night, There was a time when meadow, grove, These be three silent things, 361 They say that dead men tell no tales, They shut the road through the woods, This I beheld, or dreamed it in a dream, This is the Arsenal. ceiling, 231 From floor to This is the ship of pearl, which, poets This moment yearning and thoughtful This Sycamore, oft musical with bees, Thou Fair-haired Angel of the Even- Thou still unravish'd bride of quiet- Three fishers went sailing out into the Tiger! Tiger! burning bright, 502 'Tis time this heart should be unmoved, To-day a rude brief recitative, 353 To him who in the love of Nature holds, To one who has been long in city pent, Wall, no! I can't tell whar he lives, 183 Well and if day on day, 361 Westward on the high-hilled plains, 505 the seas, 51 We watch'd her breathing thro' the Wha'll buy my caller herrin', 169 What of the bow, 14 What was he doing, the great god Pan, When all the world is young, lad, 335 When heavy, dark, continued, a'-day When I am dead, my dearest, 503 When I consider Life and its few years, When I have fears that I may cease to When I have seen by Time's fell hand When I heard the learn'd astronomer, When I peruse the conquer'd fame of heroes and the victories of mighty When I see birches bend to left and right, 363 When I was a little lad,, 170 When icicles hang by the wall, 680 When Love with unconfinèd wings, 674 Where lies the land to which the ship Where the bee sucks, there suck I, 680 ing smiles, 559 |