As thus oppressed with many a heavy care

As when it happeneth that some lovely town
As winter, in some mild autumnal days

A trouble, not of clouds, or weeping rain

Avenge, O Lord, thy slaughtered saints, whose bones
A volant Tribe of Bards on earth are found
A wrinkled, crabbed man they picture thee

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Beauty still walketh on the earth and air
Beauty, sweet Love, is like the morning dew
Because I breathe not love to every one
Because thou wast the daughter of a king
*Behold the melancholy season's wane!
Being your slave, what should I do but tend
*Beneath a sable vaile, and Shadowes deepe
Be not afraid to pray-to pray is right
Beyond the pine-wood all looked bright and clear
Blue! 'Tis the life of heaven,-the domain
Brave Schill! by death delivered, take thy flight
Bright star! would I were steadfast as thou art
Broad, but not deep, along his rock-chafed bed
Brook! whose society the Poet seeks
But be contented: when that fell arrest
But do thy worst to steal thyself away -
*But love whilst that thou maist be lov'd againe
*But one short week ago the trees were bare

-

-

Cambridge, with whom, my pilot and my guide
Captain, or Colonel, or Knight in arms
Care-charmer Sleep, son of the sable Night
*Care-charmer Sleepe, sweet ease in restles miserie
Child of the clouds! remote from every taint
*Cleere Ankor, on whose Silver-sanded shore
Come, Sleep, O Sleep! the certain knot of peace-
Could I but harmonize one kindly thought
*Couldst thou in calmness yield thy mortal breath
*Could then the Babes from yon unshelter'd cot
Cromwell, our chief of men, who through a cloud
*Cynthia, whose glories are at full for ever

Cyriack, this three-years-day these eyes, though clear
Cyriack, whose grandsire on the royal bench

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Die down, O dismal day! and let me live
Divers doth use, as I have heard and know
Doth then the world go thus, doth all thus move?
Down in a valley, by a forest's side
*Drowned for long ages, lost to human reach

Earth has not anything to show more fair
*Earth unto Earth is now returned: a doom
Ere yet our course was graced with social trees
Eternal and Omnipotent Unseen! -
Eternal Spirit of the chainless Mind!

*Even now, this spring in winter, like some young
Even thus, methinks, a city reared should be
*Eve's lingering clouds extend in solid bars
Experience, like a pale musician, holds

*Eyther the goddesse drawes her troupe of loves

Fair art thou, Phyllis; ay, so fair, sweet maid
*Faire, since thy Virtues my affections move
Fairest, when by the rules of palmistry
Fairfax, whose name in arms through Europe rings
Fair maid, had I not heard thy baby cries
Fair Star of evening, Splendour of the west -
Farewell, Love, and all thy laws for ever!
Farewell on man's dark journey o'er the deep
Farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing
*Far from all measured space, yet clear and plain
Far from the sight of earth, yet bright and plain
Fixed in a white-thorn bush, its summer guest
Flowers! when the Saviour's calm, benignant eye
Fond words have oft been spoken to thee, Sleep!
Four seasons fill the measure of the
year
Fresh Spring, the herald of love's mighty king
Friend of my earliest years and childish days
From low to high doth dissolution climb

*From off the chill and misty lower verge -

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Happy, ye leaves! whenas those lily hands
Hardly we breathe, although the air be free
Harry, whose tuneful and well-measured song
Having this day my horse, my hand, my lance
Hearken! there is in old Morwenna's shrine
Hearken, thou craggy ocean-pyramid!
Heart of my heart! of Love let us commune
*He drew it home-he heaved it to the bank
Heed not a world that neither thee can keep
*He left the upland lawns and serene air
Henceforward shall our time be plainly read
*Here sleeps beneath this bank, where daisies grow
He was a mild old man, and cherished much
High is our calling, Friend !-Creative Art
*Highway, since you my chiefe Pernassus be
Hope smiled when your nativity was cast
How bravely Autumn paints upon the sky
How can my Muse want subject to invent
How do I love thee? Let me count the
How like a winter hath my absence been
How like the leper, with his own sad cry
*How long I sail'd, and never took a thought
How many blessed groups this hour are bending
How must the soldier's tearful heart expand
How oft, when thou, my music, music play'st
How peacefully the broad and golden moon
How profitless the relics that we cull
How softly Summer's breath is wafted here
*How soft the pause! the notes melodious cease
How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth
*How sweet it were if, without feeble fright
How sweet the tuneful bells' responsive peal!
Hung on the shower that fronts the golden West

I am not one who much or oft delight

*I am not to instruct where I may learne

ways

*I did but prompt the age to quit their cloggs -
*I do not know a man who better reads
If by dull rimes our English must be chained
If crost with all mishaps be my poor life

*If Cupid keepe his quiver in thine eye
If I have sinned in act, I may repent
If I leave all for thee, wilt thou exchange
If it must be; if it must be, O God!
If I were a dead leaf thou mightest bear
*If Musique and sweet Poetrie agree

If thou must love me, let it be for nought
If thou survive my well-contented day
*I grieved for Buonaparté, with a vain
I have a circlet of thy sunny hair

I have been in the meadows all the day
I know that all beneath the moon decays

*I saw a silver swan swim downe the Lee

*I saw a spring out of a rocke forth rayle -
*I saw far off the dark top of a Pine
*I saw the Master of the Sun. He stood
I saw the object of my pining thought
Is it indeed so? If I lay here dead

Is it thy will thy image should keep open

Is this the spot where Rome's eternal foe
*I sweare, Aurora, by thy starrie eyes -
*It flows through old hushed Egypt and its sands
*I that have beene a lover, and could shew it
I think we are too ready with complaint
I thought of Thee, my partner and my guide
I thought once how Theocritus had sung
It is a beauteous Evening, calm and free
It is a summer twilight, balmy-sweet
It is not death, that sometime in a sigh
It is not to be thought of that the Flood

It is the fairest sight in Nature's realms

It may indeed be phantasy when I

-

*I watch, and long have watch'd, with calm regret

I will not praise the often-flattered rose

*I will not rail, or grieve when torpid eld

*I wish no rich-refinde Arabian gold

*I wish sometimes, although a worthlesse thing

*Kinsman belov'd, and as a son, by me!

Lady, that in the prime of earliest youth -
Lady, I bid thee to a sunny dome

Last night my cheek was wetted with warm tears
Lawrence, of virtuous father virtuous son
*Leaning against the window, rapt in thought
Leave me, O Love, which reachest but to dust
*Let forrain nations of their language boast
*Let it not grieve thee, dear, to hear me say
Let me not deem that I was made in vain -

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Lo! in the burning west, the craggy nape
*Lone Flower, hemmed in with snows and white as they
Long time a child, and still a child, when years
*Long-while I sought to what I might compare
Look, Delia, how w' esteem the half-blown rose -
*Looke how the pale Queene of the silent night
Look how the flower which lingeringly doth fade
Look what immortal floods the sunset pours
*Lord, what a change within us one short hour
Lord, with what care hast Thou begirt us round!
*Love, banish'd Heav'n, in Earth was held in scorne
Love, dearest lady, such as I would speak

Lo! where she stands fixed in a saint-like trance -

Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is
Mark when she smiles with amiable cheer
Martha, thy maiden foot is still so light
Mary! I want a lyre with other strings
Men call you fair, and you do credit it
Methinks the innumerable eyes of ours
Methinks we do as fretful children do
Methought I saw my late espoused saint
Methought I saw the grave where Laura lay
Milton! thou should'st be living at this hour
*Month after month the gathered rains descend
More than most fair, full of the living fire
Mortal! at last what will it thee bestead
Most glorious Lord of life! that on this day
Most sweet it is with unuplifted eyes -
Mother! whose virgin bosom was uncrost
Mourn not, fair Greece, the ruin of thy kings
Much have I travelled in the realms of gold
Muses that sing Love's sensual empery
Music, and frankincense of flowers, belong
Music to hear, why hear'st thou music sadly?
*Mute is thy wild harp now, O Bard sublime!
*My childhood was a vision heavenly wrought

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