Tause. Traveller whosoe'er thou be, 451
Pelion and Ossa flourish side by side, 216
H'eople' your chains are severing link by link, 272, 303
Perhaps some needful service of the State, 458
Holeasures newly found are sweet, 140
Portentous change when History can appear, 273
Praised be the Art whose subtle power could stay, 217
Praised be the Rivers, from their mountain springs, 356
Prejudged by foes determined not to spare, 362
Presentiments' they judge not right, 417
Prompt transformation works the novel Lore, 351
Proud were ye, Mountains, when in times of old, 236
Pure element of waters' wheresoe'er, 226

Queen of the Stars : – so gentle, so benign, 430

Ranging the heights of Scawfell or Black-comb, 309
Rapt above earth by power of one fair face, 325
Realms quake by turns: proud Arbitress of grace, 354
Record we too, with just and faithful pen, 355
Redoubted King, of courage leonine, 354
Reluctant call it was; the rite delayed, 272
Rest, rest, perturbed Earth, 465
Return, Content' for fondly I pursued, 298
Rise' – they have risen: of brave Aneurin ask, 349
Rotha, my Spiritual Child' this head was grey, 230
Rude is this Edifice, and Thou hast seen, 450

Sacred Religion : Mother of form and fear, 296

Such age how beautiful! O Lady bright, 230
Such fruitless questions may not long beguile, 296
Surprised by joy – impatient as the Wind, 220
Sweet Flower! belike one day to have, 463 -
Sweet Highland Girl, a very shower, 240 / 6 o 3.

Sweet is the holiness of Youth – so felt, 359
Swiftly turn the murmuring wheel, 142
Sylph was it! or a Bird more bright, 152

Take, cradled Nursling of the mountain, take, 284
Tax not the royal Saint with vain expense, 369
Tell me, ye Zephyrs' that unfold, 144
Tenderly do we feel by Nature's law, 275
Thanks for the lessons of this Spot – fit school, 312
That happy gleam of vernal eyes, 410
That heresies should strike (if truth be scanned, 349
That is work of waste and ruin, 73
| That way look, my Infant, lo, 143
| The Baptist might have been ordained to cry, 325
The Bard — whose soul is meek as dawning day, 265
The captive Bird was gone;— to cliff or moor, 311
The cattle crowding round this beverage clear, 308
The cock is crowing, 171
The Crescent-moon, the Star of Love, 429
The Danish Conqueror on his royal chair, 413
The days are cold, the nights are long, 102
The dew was falling fast, the stars began to blink, 78
The embowering rose, the acacia, and the pine, 449

Sand Secrecy to Cowardice and Fraud, 273
Say, what is Honour ! -'T is the finest sense, 260
Say, ye far-travelled clouds, far-seeing hills, 302
Scattering, like birds escaped the fowler's net, 360
Scorn not the Sonnet ; Critic you have frowned, 223

| The fairest, brightest hues of ether fade, 216
The feudal Keep, the bastions of Cohorn, 309
| The fields which with covetous spirit we sold, 101
• The floods are roused, and will not soon be weary, 314
The forest huge of ancient Caledon, 305

white, 34°
Seek who will delight in fable, 84
See the condemned alone within his cell, 277
See what gay wild flowers deck this earth-built Cot, 304
See, where his difficult way that Old Man wins, 326
Serving no haughty Muse, my hands have here, 237
Seven Daughters had Lord Archibald, 146
Shade of Caractacus, if spirits love, 272
Shame on this faithless heart that could allow, 228
She dwelt among the untrodden ways, 96 to go
She was a Phantom of delight, 166
Show me the noblest Youth of present time, 177
Shout, for a mighty Victory is won, 257
Shun not this Rite, neglected, yea abhorred, 367
Since risen from ocean, ocean to defy, 311
Six months to six years added he remained, 460
Six thousand veterans practised in war's game, 245
Small service is true service while it lasts, 437
Srnile of the Moon' – for so I name, 99
So fair, so sweet, withal so sensitive, 403
Soft as a cloud is you blue Ridge—the Mere, 427
Solc listener, Duddon to the breeze that played, 294
Soon did the Almighty giver of all rest, 436
Spade' with which Wilkinson hath tilled his lands, 396
Stay, bold Adventurer; rest awhile thy limbs, 450
Stay, little cheerful Robin stay, 419
Stay near me – do not take thy flight, 73
Stern Daughter of the Voice of God, 425
Strange fits of passion have I known, 96 |- so
Stranger' this hillock of mis-shapen stones, 450
Strange visitation at Jemima's lip, 229
Stretched on the dying Mother's lap, lies dead, 314

The gallant Youth, who may have gained, 300
The gentlest Poet, with free thoughts endowed, 192
The gentlest Shade that walked Elysian plains, 237
The God of Love-ah benedicite '443
The imperial consort of the Fairy-king, 218
The imperial Stature, the colossal stride, 228
The Kirk of Ulpha to the Pilgrim's eye, 299
The Knight had ridden down from Wensley Moor, 184
The Land we from our fathers had in trust, 259
The leaves that rustled on this oak-crowned hill, 427
The linnet's warble, sinking towards a close, 426
The little hedge-row birds, 456
|The lovely Nun (submissive, but more meek, 358
The Lovers took within this ancient grove, 313
The martial courage of a day is vain, 260
The massy Ways, carried across these heights, 452
The Minstrels played their Christmas tune, 293
The most alluring clouds that mount the sky, 233
The old inventive Poets, had they seen, 297
| The oppression of the tumult – wrath and scorn, 350
| The peace which others seek they find, 97
|The pibroch's note, discountenanced or mute, 302
The post-boy drove with fierce career, 75
| The Power of Armies is a visible thing, 263
The prayers I make will then be sweet indeed, 220
| There are no colours in the fairest sky, 364
There is a bondage worse, far worse, to bear, 256
| There is a change—and I am poor, 98
There is a Flower, the lesser Celandine, 456
There is a little unpretending Rill, 216
There is an Eminence, — of these our hills, 132
There is a pleasure in poetic pains, 225

What heavenly smiles' O Lady mine, 98.
What He— who, 'mid the kindred throng, 250.
What if our numbers barely could defy, 272.
what is good for a bootless bene, 412.
What know we of the Blest above, 281.
What lovelier home could gentle Fancy choose, 279.
What mischief cleaves to unsubdued regret, 429.
What need of clamorous bells, or ribands gay, 219.
What strong allurement draws, what spirit guides, 235
What though the accused, upon his own appeal, 422
What though the Italian pencil wrought not here, 282
What way does the Wind come 7 What way does he go, 74
What, you are stepping westward 1–Yea, 241
When Alpine Wales threw forth a suppliant cry, 363
Whence that low voice 7 – A whisper from the heart, 297
When, far and wide, swift as the beams of morn, 258
When first descending from the moorlands, 468
When haughty expectations prostrate lie, 224
When here with Carthage Rome to conflict came, 323
When human touch (as monkish books attest), 232
When I have borne in memory what has tamed, 255
When in the antique age of bow and spear, 412
When, looking on the present face of things, 256
When Philoctetes in the Lemnian isle, 229
When Ruth was left half desolate, 173
When the Brothers reached the gateway, 167
When the soft hand of sleep had closed the latch, 265
When, to the attractions of the busy world, 133
Where are they now, those wanton Boys, 172
Where art thou, my beloved Son, 101
Where be the noisy followers of the game, 290
Where be the temples which, in Britain's Isle, 91
Where holy ground begins, unhallowed ends. 228
Where lies the Land to which yon Ship must go, 220
Where lies the truth has Man in wisdom's creed, 431
Where long and deeply hath been fixed the root, 371
Where towers are crushed, and unforbidden weeds, 327
where will they stop those breathing Powers, 407
While they who once were Anna's playmates tread, 230
While beams of orient light shoot wide and high, 236
While flowing rivers yield a blameless sport, 218
While from the purpling east departs, 406
While Merlin paced the Cornish sands, 206
While not a leaf seems faded; while the fields, 223
While poring Antiquarians search the ground, 231
While the Poor gather round till the end of time, 305
Who but hails the sight with pleasure, 149
Who but is pleased to watch the moon on high, 430
Who comes – with rapture greeted, and caressed, 362
Who fancied what a pretty sight, 146
Who is the happy Warrior Who is he, 394
Who ponders National events shall find, 273
Who rashly strove thy Image to portray, 394

Who rises on the banks of Seine, 257
Who swerves from innocence, who makes divorce, 298
Why art thou silent : Is thy love a plant, 232
Why cast ye back upon the Gallic shore, 289
Why, Minstrel, these untuneful murmurings, 217
Why should the Enthusiast, journeying thro' this Isle, 307
Why should we weep or mourn, Angelic boy, 469
Why sleeps the future, as a snake enrolled, 370
Why stand we gazing on the sparkling Brine, 310
Why, William, on that old grey stone, 393
Wings have we — and as far as we can go, 222
Wisdom and Spirit of the universe, 80
With copious eulogy in prose or rhyme, 466
With each recurrence of this glorious morn, 218
With earnest look, to every voyager, 313
With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the sky, 225
Within her gilded cage confined, 139
Within our happy Castle there dwelt One, 95
Within the mind strong fancies work, 191
With little here to do or see, 145
With sacrifice before the rising morn, 175
With Ships the sea was sprinkled far and nigh, 221
Woe to the Crown that doth the Cowl obey, 353
Woe to you, Prelates' rioting in ease, 357
Woman the Power who left his throne on high, 367
Wouldst thou be taught when sleep has taken flight, 192
Would that our scrupulous sires had dared to leave, 368

Ye Apennines' with all your fertile vales, 318
Ye brood of conscience – Spectres' that frequent, 276
Ye Lime-trees, ranged before this hallowed Urn, 449
Ye sacred Nurseries of blooming Youth, 228
Ye shadowy Beings that have rights and claims, 312
Yes! hope may with my strong desire keep pace, 219
Yes, if the intensities of hope and fear, 365
Yes, it was the mountain Echo, 188
Yes, there is holy pleasure in thine eye, 216
Yes! thou art fair, yet be not moved, 98
Yes, though he well may tremble at the sound, 277
Ye Storms, resound the praises of your King, 264
Yet are they here the same unbroken knot, 171
Yet life you say is life; we have seen and see, 221
Yet more –round many a Convent's blazing fire, 357
Yet some Novitiates of the cloistral shade, 358
Ye, too, must fly before a chasing hand, 358
Ye trees' whose slender roots entwine, 326
Yet Truth is keenly sought for, and the wind, 363
Yet, yet, Biscayans ! we must meet our Foes, 262
Ye vales and hills whose beauty hither drew, 469
You call it, “Love lies bleeding,” – so you may, 151
You have heard a Spanish Lady, 107
You Ng ENGLAND – what is then become of Old, 275