| NO. |
| | |
| A Book of Verses underneath the Bough | 705 |
| A celuy que pluys eyme en mounde | 6 (i) |
| A child’s plaything for an hour | 525 |
| A! Fredome is a noble thing! | , "FTN13A">13 |
| A garden is a lovesome
thing, God wot! | 800 |
| A late lark twitters from the quiet skies | 854 |
| A plenteous place is Ireland for hospitable
cheer | 721 |
| A rose, as fair as ever saw the North | 250 |
| A rose for a young head | 952 |
| A slumber did my
spirit seal | 533 |
| A soun tres chere et special | 6 (ii) |
| A star is gone! a star is gone! | 651 |
| A street there is
in Paris famous | 723 |
| A sudden wakin’, a sudden weepin’ | 892 |
| A sunny shaft did I behold | 568 |
| A sweet
disorder in the dress | 266 |
| A weary lot is thine, fair maid | 559 |
| A wind sways the pines | 787 |
| Abou ben
Adhem (may his tribe increase!) | 598 |
| About the little chambers of my heart | 886 |
| Above yon sombre
swell of land | 681 |
| Absent from thee, I languish still | 424 |
| Accept, thou shrine of my dead saint | 288 |
| Adieu,
farewell earth’s bliss! | 177 |
| Ae fond kiss, and then we sever | 513 |
| Ah, Chloris! that I now could sit | 421 |
| Ah! were she pitiful as she is fair | 115 |
| Ah, what avails the sceptred race | 572 |
| Ah! what pleasant visions
haunt me | 695 |
| Airly Beacon, Airly Beacon | 748 |
| Alexis, here she stay’d; among these pines | 236 |
| All holy
influences dwell within | 609 |
| All in the April evening | 893 |
| All is best, though we oft doubt | 333 |
| All my
past life is mine no more | 425 |
| All Nature seems at work. Slugs leave their lair | 567 |
| All’s over, then: does
truth sound bitter | 735 |
| All that is moulded of iron | 948 |
| All the flowers of the spring | 227 |
| All the words
that I utter | 901 |
| All thoughts, all passions, all delights | 564 |
| All under the leaves and the leaves of life | 392 |
| Allas! my worthi maister honorable | 17 |
| Amarantha sweet and fair | 355 |
| An ancient chestnut’s blossoms
threw | 579 |
| And did those feet in ancient time | 499 |
| An old man in a lodge within a park | 696 |
| And Ishmael
crouched beside a crackling briar | 947 |
| And, like a dying lady lean and pale | 616 |
| And wilt thou leave
me thus! | 43 |
| And yet I cannot reprehend the flight | 123 (III) |
| Angel, king of streaming morn | 521 |
| Angel
spirits of sleep | 841 |
| April, April | 870 |
| Art thou poor, yet hast thou golden slumbers? | 213 |
| As doctors
give physic by way of prevention | 439 |
| As I in hoary winter’s night | 119 |
| As I was walking all alane | 390 |
| As it fell upon a day | 212 |
| As one that for a weary space has lain | 839 |
| As ships, becalm’d at eve, that
lay | 749 |
| As those we love decay, we die in part | 458 |
| As we rush, as we rush in the Train | 802 |
| As ye
came from the holy land | 34 |
| As yonder lamp in my vacated room | 682 |
| Ask me no more where Jove
bestows | 297 |
| Ask me why I send you here | 262 |
| Ask not the cause why sullen Spring | 415 |
| Assemble,
all ye maidens, at the door | 849 |
| At her fair hands how have I grace entreated | 73 |
| At the last, tenderly | 751 |
| At the mid hour of night, when stars are weeping, I fly | 594 |
| Awake, Æolian lyre, awake | 467 |
| Awake,
my heart, to be loved, awake, awake! | 848 |
| Away! Away! | 474 |
| Away, delights! go seek some other
dwelling | 218 |
| Away; let nought to Love displeasing | 454 |
| Away! the moor is dark beneath the moon | 624 |
|
| Bacchus must now his power resign | 456 |
| Balow, my babe, lie still and sleep! | 35 |
| Bards of Passion and
of Mirth | 637 |
| Be it right or wrong, these men among | 32 |
| Beautiful must be the mountains whence ye
come | 842 |
| Beauty clear and fair | 222 |
| Beauty sat bathing by a spring | 97 |
| Beauty, sweet Love, is like
the morning dew | 123 (V) |
| Before the beginning of years | 813 |
| Before the Roman came to Rye or out
to Severn strode | 930 |
| Behold her, single in the field | 542 |
| Being your slave, what should I do but tend | 161 |
| Best and brightest, come away | 613 |
| Bid adieu, adieu, adieu | 951 |
| Bid me to live, and I will live | 274 |
| Blest pair of Sirens, pledges of Heav’ns joy | 317 |
| Blow, blow, thou winter wind | 146 |
| Blown in the morning,
thou shalt fade ere noon | 338 |
| Blue is Our Lady’s colour | 882 |
| Bonnie Kilmeny gaed up the glen | 528 |
| Brave flowers—that I could gallant it like you | 286 |
| Brave lads in olden musical centuries | 859 |
| Breathes
there the man with soul so dead | 560 |
| Bright Star, would I were steadfast as thou art | 644 |
| Bring me
wine, but wine which never grew | 679 |
| Busy, curious, thirsty fly! | 449 |
| By feathers green, across Casbeen | 894 |
| By saynt Mary, my lady | 38 |
| Bytuene Mershe and Averil | 3 |
|
| Ca’ the yowes to the knowes | 487, 520 |
| Call not thy wanderer home as yet | 912 |
| Call for the robin-redbreast and the wren | 225 |
| Calm on the
bosom of thy God! | 628 |
| Calme was the day, and through the trembling ayre | 91 |
| Charm me asleep,
and melt me so | 271 |
| Cherry-ripe, ripe, ripe, I cry | 264 |
| Chloe’s a Nymph in flowery groves | 407 |
| Clerk
Saunders and may Margaret | 383 |
| Come away, come away, death | 144 |
| Come down, O maid, from yonder
mountain height | 714 |
| Come into the garden, Maud | 715 |
| Come, let us now resolve at last | 428 |
| Come
little babe, come silly soul | 83 |
| Come live with me and be my Love | 131 |
| Come, O Thou Traveller unknown | 459 |
| Come, Sleep; O Sleep! the certain knot of peace | 104 |
| Come, spur away | 308 |
| Come then, as ever,
like the wind at morning! | 915 |
| Come thou, who art the wine and wit | 282 |
| Come unto these yellow sands | 139 |
| Come, worthy Greek! Ulysses, come | 122 |
| Condemn’d to Hope’s delusive mine | 461 |
| Consider, O
my soul, what morn is this! | 857 |
| Corydon, arise, my Corydon! | 65 |
| Crabbàd Age and Youth | 64 |
| Cupid
and my Campaspe play’d | 95 |
| Cynthia, to thy power and thee | 215 |
| Cyriack, whose Grandsire on the |