| PAGE |
| A Chieftain to the Highlands bound | 211 |
| A child's a plaything for an hour | 270 |
| A flock of sheep that leisurely pass by | 305 |
| A slumber did my spirit seal | 210 |
| A sweet disorder in the dress | 95 |
| A weary lot is thine, fair maid | 225 |
| A wet sheet and a flowing sea | 235 |
| Absence, hear thou this protestation | 8 |
| Ah, Chloris! could I now but sit | 86 |
| Ah! County Guy, the hour is nigh | 217 |
| All in the Downs the fleet was moor'd | 149 |
| All thoughts, all passions, all delights | 199 |
| And are ye sure the news is true | 181 |
| And is this—Yarrow?—This the Stream | 297 |
| And thou art dead, as young and fair | 231 |
| And wilt thou leave me thus | 26 |
| Ariel to Miranda:—Take | 288 |
| Art thou pale for weariness | 305 |
| Art thou poor, yet hast thou golden slumbers | 50 |
| As it fell upon a day | 27 |
| As I was walking all alane | 107 |
| As slow our ship her foamy track | 251 |
| At the corner of Wood Street, when daylight appears | 288 |
| At the mid hour of night, when stars are weeping, I fly | 230 |
| Avenge, O Lord! Thy slaughter'd saints, whose bones | 64 |
| Awake, Aeolian lyre, awake | 157 |
| Awake, awake, my Lyre | 101 |
| |
| Bards of Passion and of Mirth | 197 |
| Beauty sat bathing by a spring | 13 |
| Behold her, single in the field | 287 |
| Being your slave, what should I do but tend | 9 |
| Beneath these fruit-tree boughs that shed | 277 |
| Best and brightest, come away | 299 |
| Bid me to live, and I will live | 97 |
| Blest pair of Sirens, pledges of Heaven's joy | 125 |
| Blow, blow, thou winter wind | 34 |
| Bright Star! would I were steadfast as thou art | 228 |
| |
| Call for the robin-redbreast and the wren | 41 |
| Calm was the day, and through the trembling air | 45 |
| Captain, or Colonel, or Knight in Arms | 75 |
| Care-charmer Sleep, son of the Sable Night | 28 |
| Come away, come away, Death | 38 |
| Come, cheerful day, part of my life to me | 51 |
| Come little babe, come silly soul | 35 |
| Come live with me and be my Love | 5 |
| Come, Sleep: O Sleep! the certain knot
3-h@32373-h-5.htm.html#Page_98" class="pginternal">98 |
| Now the golden Morn aloft | 133 |
| Now the last day of many days | 301 |
| |
| O blithe new-comer! I have heard | 278 |
| O Brignall banks are wild and fair | 203 |
| O Friend! I know not which way I must look | 242 |
| O happy shades! to me unblest | 188 |
| O if thou knew'st how thou thyself dost harm | 18 |
| O leave this barren spot to me | 283 |
| O listen, listen, ladies gay | 266 |
| O lovers' eyes are sharp to see | 227 |
| O Mary, at thy window be | 175 |
| O me! what eyes hath love put in my head | 31 |
| O Mistress mine, where are you roaming | 22 |
| O my Luve's like a red, red rose | 177 |
| O never say that I was false of heart | 11 |
| O saw ye bonnie Lesley | 176 |
| O say what is that thing call'd Light | 136 |
| O talk not to me of a name great in story | 202 |
| O Thou, by Nature taught | 134 |
| O waly waly up the bank | 104 |
| O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms | 224 |
| O wild West Wind, thou breath Of Autumn's being | 325 |
| O World! O Life! O Time | 340 |
| Obscurest night involved the sky | 193 |
| Of all the girls that are so smart | 151 |
| Of a' the airts the wind can blaw | 183 |
| Of Nelson and the North | 237 |
| Of Neptune's empire let us sing | 80 |
| Of this fair volume which we World do name | 53 |
| Oft I had heard of Lucy Gray | 213 |
| Oft in the stilly night | 255 |
| Oh snatch'd away in beauty's bloom | 262 |
| On a day, alack the day | 17 |
| On a Poet's lips I slept | 329 |
| Once did She hold the gorgeous East in fee | 241 |
| One more Unfortunate | 259 |
| One word is too often profaned | 233 |
| On Linden, when the sun was low | 243 |
| Our bugles sang truce, for the night-cloud had lower'd | 306 |
| Over the mountains | 84 |
| |
| Pack, clouds, away, and welcome day | 45 |
| Phoebus, arise | 2 |
| Pibroch of Donuil Dhu | 233 |
| Poor Soul, the centre of my sinful earth | 52 |
| Proud Maisie is in the wood | 258 |
| |
| Queen and Huntress, chaste and fair | 81 |
177 | | Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon | 157 |
| Ye distant spires, ye antique towers | 185 |
| Ye Mariners of England | 235 |
| Yes, there is holy pleasure in thine eye | 284 |
| Yet once more, O ye laurels, and once more | 68 |
| You meaner beauties of the night | 88 |
