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If she be made of white and red, 592.
If she but knew that I am weeping, 442.
If the butterfly courted the bee, 476.
If there be any one can take my place, 378.
If there were dreams to sell, 37.
If thou wilt ease thine heart, 38.
If Transmigration e'er compel, 473.
If you be that May Margaret, 516.
I gave my life for thee, 183.
I gave my soldier-boy a blade, 55.
I had a true-love, none so dear, 415.
I had found the secret of a garret-room, 139.
I have a strain of a departed bard, 166.
I have been here before, 397.
I have lov'd flowers that fade, 438.
I have stay'd too long from your grave, it
I have subdued at last the will to live, 258.
I have wo sons, wife, 283.
I have wept a million tears, 606.
I heard last night a little child go singing, 134.
I heard the dogs howl in the moonlight night,
I heard the voice of Jesus say, 176.
I hear the bells at eventide, 671.
I hear the low wind wash the softening snow,
I held her hand, the pledge of bliss, 13.
I know not how to call yon light, 231.
I know not of what we ponder'd, 469.
I know that these poor rags of womanhood,
I learn’d his greatness first at Lavington, 70.
I leave thee, beauteous Italy ! no more, 11.
I lift my heavy heart up solemnly, 131.
I like the hunting of the hare, 492.
I listend to the music broad and deep, 445.
I liv'd with visions for my company, 133.
I lov'd him not; and yet now he is gone, 11.
I love my Lady; she is very fair, 391.
I'm a bird that's free, 27.
I'm sittin' on the stile, Mary, 93.
I must not think of thee; and, tired yet strong,
In a coign of the cliff between lowland and
In after days when grasses high, 491.
In Carnival we were, and supp'd that night,
In Childhood's unsuspicious hours, 150.
In dim green depths rot ingot-laden ships, 505.
I never gave a lock of hair away, 132.
I never look'd that he should live so long, 25.
In green old gardens, hidden away,
In his own image the Creator made, 16.
In mid whirl of the dance of Time ye start, 565.
In praise of little children I will say, 501.
In ruling well what guerdon ? Life runs low,
In silence, and at night, the Conscience feels,
In summer, when the days were long, 152.
In sunny girlhood's vernal life, 471.
“In teacup-times !” The style of dress, 484.
In the early morning-shine, 386.
In the earth -- the earth – thou shalt be laid,
In the golden morning of the world, 213.
In the heart of the white summer mist lay a
green little piece of the world, 500.
In the high turret chamber sat the sage,
In the royal path came maidens rob’d, 24.
In these restrained and careful times, 482.
In the still air the music lies unheard, 177.
In the white-flower'd hawthorn brake, 410.
In the wild autumn weather, when the rain
was on the sea, 560.
In this May-month, by grace of heaven, things
shoot apace, 439.
In thy white bosom Love is laid, 569.
In torrid heats of late July, 496.
Into the Devil tavern, 321.
I rested on the breezy height, 668.
I rise in the dawn, and I kneel and blow, 605.
I said farewell, 637.
I sat at Berne, and watched the chain, 516.
I sat beside the streamlet, 328.
I sat unsphering Plato ere I slept, 274.
I sat upon a windy mountain height, 552.
I sat with Doris, the shepherd-maiden, 242.
I saw a new world in my dream, 477.
I saw a poor old woman on the bench, 266.
I saw in dreams a mighty multitude, 445.
saw, I saw the lovely child, 293,
I saw old Autumn in the misty morn, 119.
I saw old Time, destroyer of mankind, 72.
I saw Time in his workshop carving faces, 656.
I see him sit, wild-eyed, alone, 546.
I see thee pine like her in golden story, 269.
I send my heart up to thee, all my heart, 346.
I sent my Soul through the invisible, 342.
I sit beside my darling's grave, 328.
Is it indeed so? If I lay here dead, 132.
Is it not better at an early hour, 16.
Is n't this Joseph's son ?
ay, it is He, 510.
I sought to hold her, but within her eyes, 537.
I sprang to the stirrup, and Joris, and he, 349.
Is this the man by whose decree abide, 564.
I still keep open Memory's chamber; still, 256.
I stood to hear that bold, 521.
I strove with none, for none was worth my
Italia, mother of the souls of men, 433,
I thank all who have lov'd me in their hearts,
It hardly seems that he is dead, 585.
I think a stormless night-time shall ensue, 301.
I think on thee in the night, 75.
I thought it was the little bed, 319.
I thought of death beside the lonely sea, 671.
I thought once how Theocritus had sung, 131.
It is buried and done with, 274.
It is the season now to go, 524.
It little profits that an idle king, 196.
It may be we shall know in the hereafter, 611.
It once might have been, once only, 350.
I too remember, in the after years, 189.
Its edges foamed with amethyst and rose, 606.
Its masts of might, its sails so free, 156.
It was a day of sun and rain, 601.
It was her first sweet child, her heart's delight,
It was not in the winter, 116.
It was the calm and silent night, 143,
I've taught thee Love's sweet lesson o'er, 18.
I, Virgin of the Snows, have liv'd, 253.
I wadna gi'e my ain wife, 79.
I wander'd by the brook-side, 66.
I was an English shell, 583.
I was a wandering sheep, 175.
I watch'd her as she stoop'd to pluck, 470.
I went a roaming through the woods alone, 273.
I will not have the mad Clytie, 115.
I will not let thee go, 437.
I will not rail, or grieve when torpid eld, 332.
I worship thee, sweet will of God I 178.
I would I had thy courage, dear, to face, 491.
I would not, could I, make thy life as mine,
I would not give my Irish wife, 103.
I would that we were, my beloved, white birds
on the foam of the sea, 604.
I write. He sits beside my chair, 501,
I write. My mother was a Florentine, 139.
I wrought them like a targe of hammered gold,
Jesus, I my cross have taken, 174.
Joy that's half too keen and true, 465.
Just as I am, without one plea, 169.
Just for a handful of silver he left us, 350.
Juxtaposition, in fine; and what is juxtaposi-
tion ? 217.
Kathleen Mavourneen! the gray dawn is break-
Keen was the air, the sky was very light, 444.
Kentish Sir Byng stood for his King, 343.
King Charles, and who 'll do him right now,
Little harp, at thy cry, 581.
Little Lettice is dead, they say, 520.
Lo, as some bard on isles of the Aegean, 291.
Lo, I am weary of all, 534.
Long ago, on a bright spring day, 533.
Long night succeeds thy little day, 47.
Long years their cabin stood, 147.
Look at me with thy large brown eyes, 314.
Look in my face; my name is Might-have-
Lord Cæsar, when you sternly wrote, 583.
Lord, for to-morrow and its needs, 175.
Lord, in thy name thy servants plead, 172.
Loud roared the tempest, 313.
Love, by that loosened hair, 666.
Love held a harp between his hands, and, lo !
Love in my heart: oh, heart of me, heart of
me ! 549.
Love not, love not ! ye hapless sons of clay! 94.
Love's priestess, mad with pain and joy of
Love took my life and thrill'd it, 257.
Love we the warmth and light of tropic lands,
Lo, what a golden day it is, 435.
Lo! where the four mimosas blend their shade,
Low, like another's, lies the laurelled head,
Lady Alice, Lady Louise, 403.
Lady and gentlemen fays, come buy! 18.
Lady Anne Dewhurst on a crimson couch, 236,
Last April, when the winds had lost their
Last night, among his fellow roughs, 302.
Last night the nightingale waked
Lay me low, my work is done, 621.
Lead, Kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom,
Lead us, heavenly Father, lead us, 170.
Leave me a little while alone, 263.
Let me at last be laid, 256.
Let me be with thee where thou art, 169.
Level with the summit of that eastern mount,
Lie still, old Dane, below thy heap, 241.
Life and Thought have gone away, 194.
Life's not our own, - 't is but a loan, 76.
Light flows our war of mocking words, and yet,
Light words they were, and lightly, falsely
Like a huge Python, winding round and round,
Like a musician that with flying finger, 231.
Like crown'd athlete that in a race has run,
Like souls that balance joy and pain, 198.
Lily on liquid roses floating, 72.
Maidens, kilt your skirts and go, 556.
Make me over, Mother April, 663.
Make thyself known, Sibyl, or let despair, 294.
Make way, my lords ! for Death now once
Man is permitted much, 59.
Many a hearth upon our dark globe sighs after
many a vanish'd face, 211.
Many love music but for music's sake, 12.
Marian Drury, Marian Drury, 662.
Mellow the moonlight to shine is beginning, 95.
Melpomene among her livid people, 375.
Methinks the soul within the body held, 126.
Methought, as I beheld the rookery pass, 192.
Methought the stars were blinking bright, 326.
Mid April seemed like some November day,
Mistress of gods and men ! I have been thine,
Monsieur the Curé down the street, 486.
Mother, I cannot mind my wheel, 12,
Mother wept, and father sigh’d, 329.
Move me that jasmine further from the bed,
Mowers, weary and brown, and blithe, 498.
Music, music hath its way, 636.
My body sleeps : my heart awakes, 380.
My days are full of pleasant memories, 266.
My fairest child, I have no song to give you,
My Fair, no beauty of thine will last, 538.
My first thought was, he lied in every word,
My God (oh, let me call thee mine, 181.
My good blade carves the casques of men, 197.
My hero is na deck'd wi' gowd, 151.
My hopes retire; my wishes as before, 15.
My life ebbs from me - I must die, 294.
My little boy at Christmas-tide, 262.
My little dear, so fast asleep, 602.
My little love, do you remember, 382.
My little son, who look'd from thoughtful eyes,
My Lord Tomhoddy 's the son of an Earl, 468,
My love and I among the mountains strayed,
My Love dwelt in a Northern land, 497.
My love he went to Burdon Fair, 277.
My masters twain made me a bed, 646.
My roof is hardly picturesque, 494,
My soul, asleep between its body-throes, 301.
My times are in thy hand ! 180.
Nae shoon to hide her tiny taes, 83.
Naiads, and ye pastures cold, 498.
Nancy Dawson, Nancy Dawson, 592.
Nature, a jealous mistress, laid him low, 368.
Nature and he went ever hand in hand, 584.
Nay, Death, thou art a shadow ! Even as light,
Nearer, my God, to thee, 127.
Near where yonder evening star, 556.
News to the king, good news for all, 462.
Nigh one year ago, 161.
Nineteen! of years a pleasant number, 461.
No coward soul is mine, 154.
No, my own love of other years ! 14.
None ever climbed to mountain height of song,
Nor force nor fraud shall sunder us ! O ye, 368.
No sleep like hers, no rest, 582.
Not a sound disturbs the air, 615.
Not greatly mov'd with awe am I, 236.
Not I myself know all my love for thee, 396.
Not 'mid the thunder of the battle guns, 615.
Not only that thy puissant arm could bind, 213.
Not on the neck of prince or hound, 586.
Not yet, dear love, not yet : the sun is high;
Now glory to the Lord of hosts, from whom all
glories are, 29.
Now hands to seed-sheet, boys ! 80.
Now has the lingering month at last gone by,
Now heap the branchy barriers up, 652.
Now, sitting by her side, worn out with weep-
Now the day is over, 183.
Now the rite is duly done, 49.
Now this is the law of the jungle, as old and as
true as the sky, 599.
O babbling Spring, than glass more clear, 488.
O bear him where the rain can fall, 111.
O blessed Dead! beyond all earthly pains, 148.
O bonnie bird, that in the brake, exultant, dost
prepare thee, 529.
O Brothers, who must ache and stoop, 586.
O Child of Nations, giant-limbed, 619.
Och! the Coronation! what celebration, 52.
O Deep of Heaven, 't is thou alone art bound-
O'Driscoll drove with a song, 604.
O d' you hear the seas complainin', and com-
plainin', whilst it's rainin'? 609.
Of all the thoughts of God that are, 142.
Of all the wives as e'er you know, 508.
Of Heaven or Hell I have no power to sing, 404.
O, for the times which were, 382.
O friend, like some cold wind to-day, 536.
Often rebuk'd, yet always back returning, 154.
Oh, aged Time! how far, and long, 67.
Oh, Bisham Banks are fresh and fair, 471.
Oh, East is East, and West is West, and never
the twain shall meet, 596.
Oh, England is a pleasant place for them that's
rich and high, 310.
Oh, fill me flagons full and fair, 561.
Oh! had you eyes, but eyes that move, 591.
Oh, happy, happy maid, 366.
Oh! ignorant boy, it is the secret hour, 23.
Oh, it is hard to work for God, 179.
Oh, I wad like to ken to the beggar-wife says
Oh, lovely Mary Donnelly, it's you I love the
Oh, many a leaf will fall to-night, 271.
O hour of all hours, the most blest upon earth,
Oh ! that we two were Maying, 307.
Oh, there's mony a gate eawt ov eawr teawn-
Oh, to be in England now that April 's there,
Oh, wha hae ye brought us hame now, my brave
Oh, what shall be the burden of our rhyme,
Oh! where do fairies hide their heads, 73.
Oh! wherefore come yê forth in triumph from
the north, 27.
Oh! why left I my hame ? 80.
Oh, ye wild waves, shoreward dashing, 628.
Old England's sons are English yet, 461.
Old things need not be therefore true, 218.
O Life! that mystery that no man knows, 575.
O long ago, when Faery-land, 254.
O Lord of heaven, and earth, and sea ! 175.
O Lords ! O rulers of the nation ! 152.
O Lord, thy wing outspread, 181.
O Love, if you were here, 447.
O Love! thou makest all things even, 127.
O Love, what hours were thine and mine, 205.
O Mary, go and call the cattle home, 309.
O may I join the choir invisible, 155.
O! Meäry, when the zun went down, 106.
O Merope ! and where art thou, 31.
O monstrous, dead, unprofitable world, 221.
O mother, mother, I swept the hearth, I set his
chair and the white board spread, 610.
O my Dark Rosaleen, 91.
On a starr'd night Prince Lucifer uprose, 374.
On Bellosguardo, when the year was young,
On Calais Sands the gray began, 500.
Once, from the parapet of gems and glow, 505.
Once in a golden hour, 206.
Once ye were happy, once by many a shore, 661.
One asked of Regret, 593.
One face alone, one face alone, 60.
One moment the boy, as he wander'd by night,
One more unfortunate, 122.
One only rose our village maiden wore, 246.
On gossamer nights when the moon is low, 608.
On Helen's heart the day were night, 585.
Only a touch, and nothing more, 316.
On me and on my children, 455.
On other fields and other scenes the morn,
On shores of Sicily a shape of Greece, 541.
On through the Libyan sand, 297.
O Paradise, O Paradise, 179.
Opensive, tender maid, downcast and shy, 409.
Ope your doors and take me in, 675.
Or else I sat on in my chamber green, 139.
O saw ye not fair Ines ? 116.
O shepherds ! take my crook from me, 633.
O singer of the field and fold, 488.
O somewhere, somewhere, God unknown, 292.
sons of men, that toil, and love with tears,
O supreme Artist, who, as sole return, 141.
O thou that cleavest heaven, 535.
O thou to whom, athwart the perished days,
O unhatch'd Bird, so high preferr'd, 472.
Our bark is on the waters: wide around, 40.
Our England's heart is sound as oak, 148.
Our little babe," each said, “ shall be," 594.
Our little bird in his full day of health, 191,
Our night repast was ended: quietness, 145.
Ours all are marble halls, 157.
Out from the City's dust and roar, 486.
Out of the frozen earth below, 389.
Out of the golden remote wild west where the
sea without shore is, 417.
Out of the uttermost ridge of dusk, where the
dark and the day are mingled, 607.
Out of this town there riseth a high hill, 400.
Outside the village, by the public road, 220.
Over his millions Death has lawful power, 13.
Over the sea our galleys went, 343.
O wanderer in the southern weather, 603.
Owd Pinder were a rackless foo, 110.
O when the half-light weaves, 576.
O where do you go, and what's your will, 580.
O Wind of the Mountain, Wind of the Moun-
tain, hear! 213,
O wind, thou hast thy kingdom in the trees,
O youth, whose hope is high, 439.
Pardon the faults in me, 376.
Passing feet pause, as they pass, 266.
Passion the fathomless spring, and words the
precipitate waters, 331.
Peace! what do tears avail ? 20.
Pitch here the tent, while the old horse grazes,
Play me a march, low-ton'd and slow, 277.
Pleasures lie thickest where no pleasures seem,
Plunged in night, I sit alone, 656.
Poets are singing the whole world over, 334.
Poor old pilgrim Misery, 39.
Poor wither'd rose and dry, 437.
Princess of pretty pets, 472.
Proud and lowly, beggar and lord, 508.
Proud word you never spoke, but you will
Quick gleam, that ridest on the gossamer! 193.
Quoth tongue of neither maid nor wife, 26.
Rachel, the beautiful (as she was call'd), 22.
Reign on, majestic Ville Marie, 649.
Remain, ah not in youth alone, 13.
Remember me when I am gone away, 376.
Rest here, at last, 447.
Rhaicos was born amid the hills wherefrom, 3.
Riches I hold in light esteem, 153.
Ride on ! ride on in majesty! 171.
Righ Shemus he has gone to France, and left
his crown behind, 100.
Rise! Sleep no more! 'Tis a noble morn, 19.
Rise up, my song! stretch forth thy wings and
Roll on, and with thy rolling crust, 300.
Round the cape of a sudden came the sea, 354.
Row me o'er the strait, Douglas Gordon, 309.
Sad is my lot; among the shining spheres, 231.
Sad is our youth, for it is ever going, 69.
Say, did his sisters wonder what could Joseph
Say, fair maids, maying, 496.
Schelynlaw Tower is fair on the brae, 323.
Sea-birds are asleep, 260.
Seamen three! what men be ye? 47.
Seeds with wings, between earth and sky, 462.
Seek not the tree of silkiest bark, 70.
Seems not our breathing light, 293.
See what a lovely shell, 208.
Set in this stormy Northern sea, 549.
Seven weeks of sea, and twice seven days of
Shakespeare, thy legacy of peerless song, 545.
Shall mine eyes behold thy glory, O my
Shall we not weary in the windless days, 574.
She dared not wait my coming, and shall look,
She gave her life to love. She never knew,
She has a beauty of her own, 632.
She has a primrose at her breast, 527.
She is not fair to outward view, 57.
She is not yet, but he whose ear, 621.
She leads me on through storm and calm, 300.
She lived where the mountains go down to the
She passes in her beauty bright, 278,
She sat and wept beside His feet; the weight,
She sat beside the mountain springs, 329.
She sits beneath the elder-tree, 547.
She stands, a thousand-wintered tree, 614.
She stood breast high amid the corn, 119,
She turn'd the fair page with her fairer hand,
She wanders in the April woods, 265.
She wore a wreath of roses, 73.
Ship, to the roadstead rolled, 488.
Should I long that dark were fair, 155.
Siccine separat amara mors, 554.
Sigh his name into the night, 569.
Silence. A while ago, 502.
Sing, I pray, a little song, 21.
Sing the song of wave-worn Coogee, Coogee in
the distance white, 625.
Sister Simplicitie, sing, sing a song to me, 370.
Sit down, sad soul, and count, 21.
Sleep that like the couched dove, 91.
So, Freedom, thy great quarrel may we serve,
Softly sinking through the snow, 415.
So I arm thee for the final night, 578.
So long he rode he drew anigh, 408.
Some clerks aver that as the tree doth fall,
Some years ago, ere time and taste, 48.
So sweet love seem'd that April morn, 439.
Soulless, colorless strain, thy words are the
words of wisdom, 331.
So when the old delight is born anew, 292.
Spare all who yield; alas, that we must pierce,
Speak, quiet lips, and utter forth my fate, 532.
Speed on, speed on, good master, 631.
Spirit of Spring, thy coverlet of snow, 611.
Spirit of Twilight, through your folded wings,
Spring it is cheery, 117.
Spring, summer, autumn, winter, 112.
Stand close around, ye Stygian set, 8.
Standing on tiptoe ever since my youth, 646.
Star Sirius and the Pole Star dwell afar, 379.
Still farther would I fly, my child, 616.
Still I am patient, tho' you're merciless, 23.
Still more, still more : I feel the demon move,
Stop, mortal! Here thy brother lies, 112.
Summer dieth:- o'er his bier, 375.
Sunset and evening star, 212.
Surrounded by unnumber'd foes, 166.
Sweet and low, sweet and low, 199.
Sweetest sweets that time hath rifled, 568.
Sweet in her green dell the flower of beauty
Sweet singer of the Spring, when the new
Take as gold this old tradition, 527.
Take back into thy bosom, earth, 123.
Take back your suit, 416.
Take me, Mother Earth, to thy cold breast, 58,
Take the world as it is ! – there are good and
bad in it, 76.
Tears for my lady dead, 498.
Tears, idle tears. I know not what they mean,
Tell me not of morrows, sweet, 463.
Tell me now in what hidden way is, 398.
Tell me, what is a poet's thought ? 22.
Tell me, ye winged winds, 87.
Thaisa fair, under the cold sea lying, 462.
Thanks, thanks! With the Muse is always
love and light, 159.
Tha 'rt welcome, little bonny brid, 110.
That 's my last Duchess painted on the wall,
That was a brave old epoch, 648.
The ancient memories buried lie, 434.
The auld wife sat at her ivied door, 469.
The bairnies cuddle doon at nicht, 502.
The baron hath the landward park, the fisher
hath the sea, 74.
The Barons bold on Runnymede, 112.
The bay is set with ashy sails, 669.
The bees about the Linden-tree, 315.
The bird's song, the sun, and the wind, 653.
The blessed damozel lean'd out, 392.
The Books say well, my Brothers ! each man's
The breaths of kissing night and day, 570.
The broken moon lay in the autumn sky, 168.
The buds awake at touch of Spring, 545.
The Bulbul wail'd, “Oh, Rose! all night I
The butterfly from flower to flower, 330.
The Chancellor mused as he nibbled his pen,
The changing guests, each in a different mood,
The characters of great and small, 467.
The chime of a bell of gold, 436.
The churchyard leans to the sea with its dead,
The commissioner bet me a pony - I won, 616.
The crab, the bullace, and the sloe, 264,
The crimson leafage fires the lawn, 292.
The curtain on the grouping dancers falls, 607.
The curtains were half drawn, the floor was
The day was lingering in the pale northwest, 637.
The dead abide with us! Though stark and
The doors are shut, the windows fast, 654.
The dreamy rhymer's measur'd snore, 12.
The dule 's i' this bonnet o' mine, 109.
The East was crowned with snow-cold bloom,
The fair varieties of earth, 113.
The flame-wing'd seraph spake a word, 267.
The fray began at the middle-gate, 558.
The frost will bite us soon, 558.
The garden 's passed. T is forest now, 667.
The glint of steel, the gleam of brocade, 667.
The gray sea and the long black land, 354.
The great soft downy snow storm like a cloak,
The ground I walk'd on felt like air, 259.
The hollow sea-shell, which for years hath
The Iris was yellow, the moon was pale, 521.
The irresponsive silence of the land, 379.
The Jackdaw sat on the Cardinal's chair! 50.
The King with all his kingly train, 61.
The ladies of St. James's, 489.
The Ladies rose. I held the door, 233.
The Lady of the Hills with crimes untold, 271.
The lake comes throbbing in with voice of pain,
The lark above our heads doth know, 533.
The lark is singing in the blinding sky, 167.
The last of England ! O'er the sea, my dear,
The linnet in the rocky dells, 153.