PAGE Dear friend, far off, my lost desire, 437 114 Death, be not proud, though some have called thee 119 516 109 Eternal Spirit of the chainless mind! Earth has not anything to show more fair: Even in a palace, life may be led well! 311 138 357 489 51 Five years have past; five summers, with the length 299 Flee fro the prees, and dwelle with sothfastnesse, Get thee behind me. Even as, heavy-curled, 496 Get up, get up for shame! The blooming morn Go from me. Yet I feel that I shall stand Grow old along with me! Hark! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings, Here lies a man much wronged in his hopes, 130 Here lies our Sovereign Lord the King, 190 Here lies, whom hound did ne'er pursue, 270 Here, wandering long, amid these frowning fields, 281 Her eyes the glowworm lend thee, 133 Highway, since you my chief Parnassus be, 52 How changed is here each spot man makes or fills! 482 How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. 449 How happy is he born and taught 105 How like a winter hath my absence been 100 PAGE How poor, how rich, how abject, how august 232 238 187 I have had playmates, I have had companions, 348 I have lived long enough, having seen one thing, that love hath an end; 503 I long to talk with some old lover's ghost. 115 I met a traveller from an antique land. 387 In a coign of the cliff between lowland and highland, 499 I strove with none; for none was worth my strife, 352 I've heard them lilting, at our ewe-milking, 268 I wandered lonely as a cloud 306 I was thy neighbour once, thou rugged Pile! Leave me, O Love, which reachest but to dust; 54 101 129 298 Live in these conquering leaves: live all the same; Love bade me welcome; yet my soul drew back, 143 76 Lo! where the rosy-bosom'd Hours, 246 Lyke as a ship, that through the ocean wyde, PAGE Methought I saw my late espoused saint 180 364 312 Mirry Margaret 20 More than most faire, full of the living fire 60 Mortality, behold and fear! 121 Much have I travell'd in the realms of gold, 368 Never seek to tell thy love, My sheep are thoughts, which I both guide and serve; No more, my Dear, no more these counsels try; Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note, Not if men's tongues and angels' all in one O blithe New-comer! I have heard, O'er Cornwall's cliffs the tempest roared, Of Adam's first wife, Lilith, it is told O for some honest lover's ghost, 54 89 297 52 489 367 189 497 508 304 269 496 154 Of this fair volume which we World do name 127 Oh Galuppi, Baldassare, this is very sad to find! O where have you been, my long, long love, 36 O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being, "Rise up, rise up, now, Lord Douglas," she says, Rough wind, that moanest loud PAGE 22 131 411 252 "Ruin seize thee, ruthless King! Say, Earth, why hast thou got thee new attire, 122 Should auld acquaintance be forgot, Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea, 290 228 100 81 Slow, slow, fresh fount, keep time with my salt tears: 111 426 70 Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year's pleasant king; Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, 425 158 That's my last Duchess painted on the wall, . 452 That time of year thou mayst in me behold 100 153 490 The changing guests, each in a different mood, The last and greatest herald of Heaven's King There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream, 314 7 The sea is calm to-night, 481 These, as they change, Almighty Father, these, 225 The soote season, that bud and bloom forth brings, 42 The world is too much with us; late and soon, They are all gone into the world of Light, The year's at the spring This hindir yeir I hard be tald, This little vault, this narrow room, 310 161 451 15 146 Thou art not fair, for all thy red and white, Thou art too hard for me in Love. Thou still unravish'd bride of quietness, Thou that hast fashioned twice this soul of ours, Three poets, in three distant ages born, 103 142 380 106 198 Thus said the Lord in the Vault above the Cherubim, Thy voice is on the rolling air; 525 438 Tiger! Tiger! burning bright Timely blossom, Infant fair, To be a sweetness more desired than Spring; Toll for the Brave! 298 208 495 238 278 To me 'twas given to die: to thee 'tis given To see the world in a grain of sand, To the Lords of Convention 't was Claver'se who spoke, 'Twas at the royal feast for Persia won Under yonder beech-tree single on the greensward, 510 We are in love's land to-day; 502 Weep no more, nor sigh, nor groan; 120 Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee, When he, who adores thee, has left but the name 354 When I am dead, my dearest, 516 When I bethinke me on that speech whyl-eare When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes, When the hounds of spring are on winter's traces, 498 When the old flaming Prophet climb'd the sky, 156 103 When to the sessions of sweet silent thought. 99 356 Where is the grave of Sir Arthur O'Kellyn? Where lies the land to which the ship would go? 472 342 |