Puslapio vaizdai
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One moment the boy, as he wander'd by night,
299.

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, 650.
On shores of Sicily a shape of Greece, 541.
On through the Libyan sand, 297.

O Paradise, O Paradise, 179.

O pensive, 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.
O sons of men, that toil, and love with tears,

440.

O supreme Artist, who, as sole return, 141.
O thou that cleavest heaven, 535.

O thou to whom, athwart the perished days,
530.

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,
520.

O youth, whose hope is high, 439.

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Proud and lowly, beggar and lord, 508.
Proud word you never spoke, but you will
speak, 14.

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! T is a noble morn, 19.
Rise up, my song! stretch forth thy wings and
fly, 442.

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, 509.

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
see, 236.

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

storm, 492.

Shakespeare, thy legacy of peerless song, 545.
Shall mine eyes behold thy glory, O my

country, 537.

Shall we not weary in the windless days, 574.
She dared not wait my coming, and shall look,

517.

She gave her life to love. She never knew,
507.

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
sea, 662.

She passes in her beauty bright, 278.

She sat and wept beside His feet; the weight,
58.

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,

368.

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,

148.

Softly sinking through the snow, 445.
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,
384.

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,
539.

Speak, quiet lips, and utter forth my fate, 532.
Speed on, speed on, good master, 634.
Spirit of Spring, thy coverlet of snow, 611.
Spirit of Twilight, through your folded wings,
612.

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,
635.

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
slumbers, 17.

Sweet singer of the Spring, when the new
world, 257.

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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
life, 247.

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

sing, 250.

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The butterfly from flower to flower, 330.
The Chancellor mused as he nibbled his pen,

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cold, 522.

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,
605.

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. 'Tis 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,
676.

The ground I walk'd on felt like air, 259.
The hollow sea-shell, which for years hath

stood, 505.

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,
655.

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,

390.

The linnet in the rocky dells, 153.

The lover of child Marjory, 662.
The loves that doubted, the loves that dis-
sembled, 555.

The men of learning say she must, 392.
The merry-go-round, the merry-go-round, the
merry-go-round at Fowey, 261.

The monument outlasting bronze, 239.
The moon-white waters wash and leap, 547.
The moorland waste lay hushed in the dusk of
the second day, 572.

The Mother of the Muses, we are taught, 16.
The mother will not turn, who thinks she hears,
396.

The mountain peaks put on their hoods, 640.
The mountain sheep are sweeter, 47.
The music had the heat of blood, 601.
The Musmee has brown velvet eyes, 251.
The nest is built, the song hath ceas'd, 150.
The night has a thousand eyes, 533.
The Northern Lights are flashing, 633.

Then saw they how there hove a dusky barge,
208.

Theocritus! Theocritus! ah, thou hadst plea-
sant dreams, 49.

The odor of a rose: light of a star, 276.

The old mayor climb'd the belfry tower, 324.
The old men sat with hats pull'd down, 321.
The orb I like is not the one, 77.

The play is done the curtain drops, 306.

The Poem of the Universe, 153.

The poet stood in the sombre town, 511.

The point is turned; the twilight shadow fills,

659.

The poplars and the ancient elms, 514.
The pouring music, soft and strong, 292.
The primrwose in the sheäde do blow, 107.
There be the greyhounds! lo'k! an' there's
the heare! 107.

There came a soul to the gate of Heaven, 237.
The red tiled towers of the old Château, 667.
There falls with every wedding chime, 12.
There is a book, who runs may read, 171.
There is a flower I wish to wear, 16.
There is a green hill far away, 182.
There is an Isle beyond our ken, 547.

There is a safe and secret place, 174.

There is a singing in the summer air, 283.
There is a soul above the soul of each, 400.
There is a stream, I name not its name, 215.
There is delight in singing, though none hear,

13.

There is no land like England, 211.

There is no laughter in the natural world, 491.
There is no mood, no heart-throb fugitive, 275.
There is sweet music here that softer falls, 194.
There lies a little city leagues away, 651.
There never were such radiant noons, 564.
There's a joy without canker or cark, 496.
There the moon leans out and blesses, 532.
There they are, my fifty men and women, 359.
There was a gather'd stillness in the room, 146.
There was a lady liv'd at Leith, 54,

There was a time, so ancient records tell, 25.
There were four of us about that bed, 403.
There were ninety and nine that safely lay,
182.

There were three young maids of Lee, 509.

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The Sonnet is a fruit which long hath slept, 275.
The Sonnet is a world, where feelings caught,
275.

The soul of man is larger than the sky, 57.
The spell of Age is over all, 668.

The splendor falls on castle walls, 199.
The splendor of the kindling day, 378.
The Spring will come again, dear friends, 162.
The stream was smooth as glass, we said, 331.
The summer sun is falling soft on Carbery's
hundred isles, 97.

The sunset in the rosy west, 669.

The sun shines on the chamber wall, 322.
The sun strikes, through the windows, up the
floor, 135.

The swallow, bonny birdie, comes sharp twit-
tering o'er the sea, 83.

The swarthy bee is a buccaneer, 664.
The tale was this, 26.

The thing is but a statue after all, 457.

The time shall come when wrong shall end, 127.
The tomb of God before us, 308.

The tongue of England, that which myriads, 12.
The training-ship, Eurydice, 391.

The unfathomable sea, and time, and tears, 524.
The vale of Tempe had in vain been fair, 57.
The victor stood beside the spoil, and by the
grinning dead, 335.

The villeins clustered round the bowl, 641.
The voice that breath'd o'er Eden, 172.
The wattles were sweet with September's rain,
630.

The white blossom's off the bog and the leaves
are off the trees, 506.

The wind flapp'd loose, the wind was still, 398.
The wind of death that softly blows, 675.
The wisest of the wise, 15.

The world, not hush'd, lay as in trance, 337.
They are waiting on the shore, 260.
They call her fair. I do not know, 149.
The year's at the spring, 348.

They found it in her hollow marble bed, 563.
They hasten, still they hasten, 655.

They look'd on each other and spake not, 410.
They mock'd the Sovereign of Ghaznin: one
saith, 250.

They rous'd him with muffins- they rous'd
him with ice, 478.

They say that Pity in Love's service dwells,
371.

They say that thou wert lovely on thy bier,
56.

They shot young Windebank just here, 593.
They told me, Heracleitus, they told me you

were dead, 232.

They told me in their shadowy phrase, 41.
They went to sea in a sieve, they did, 475.
They were islanders, our fathers were, 656.
Thick rise the spear-shafts o'er the land, 413.
This case befell at four of the clock, 474.
This I got on the day that Goring, 320.
This infant world has taken long to make! 164.
This is a spray the bird clung to, 364.
This is her picture as she was, 394.

This is the convent where they tend the sick,
560.

This is the glamour of the world antique, 434.
This is the room to which she came that day,
446.

This is the way we dress the Doll, 477.

This new Diana makes weak men her prey,
581.

This peach is pink with such a pink, 584.
This region is as lavish of its flowers, 641.
This relative of mine, 465.

This the house of Circe, queen of charms, 415.
Thou art not, and thou never canst be mine, 70.
Thou art the flower of grief to me, 247.
Thou art the joy of age, 163.

Thou didst delight my eyes, 438.

Though our great love a little wrong his fame,

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Through storm and fire and gloom, I see it
stand, 103.

Through the seeding grass, 548.

Through thick Arcadian woods a hunter went,
405.

Thus said the Lord in the vault above the
cherubim, 600.

Thus then, one beautiful day, in the sweet, cool
air of October, 245.

Thy glory alone, O God, be the end of all that
I say, 658.

Thy greatest knew thee, Mother Earth; un-
sour'd, 374.

Thy name of old was great, 553.

Thy voice is heard thro' rolling drums, 200.
Thy way, not mine, O Lord, 176.
Time has a magic wand, 466.

Tintadgel bells ring o'er the tide, 41.
'Tis a stern and startling thing to think, 117.
'Tis a world of silences. I gave a cry, 441.

"T is bedtime; say your hymn, and bid "Good-
night," 256.

'Tis Christmas, and the North wind blows;
't was two years yesterday, 551.
'Tis evening now! 176.

'Tis sair to dream o' them we like, 80.
'Tis They, of a veritie, 573.

To-day, what is there in the air, 516.
To murder one so young! 144.

To my true king I offer'd free from stain, 29.
Too avid of earth's bliss, he was of those, 565.
Too wearily had we and song, 569.

To sea, to sea! The calm is o'er; 38.
To soothe a mad king's fevered brain, 526.
To spend the long warm days, 592.

To thee, O father of the stately peaks, 624.
To the forgotten dead, 592.

To the Wake of O'Hara, 282.

To turn my volumes o'er nor find, 14.
Touch not that maid, 552.

Touch us gently, Time! 22.

To write as your sweet mother does, 14.
Tripping down the field-path, 76.

Trust thou thy Love: if she be proud, is she

not sweet? 157.

Twa race doon by the Gatehope-Slack, 579.
'Twas a fierce night when old Mawgan died,

40.

'T was brillig, and the slithy toves, 478.
'T was but a poor little room: a farm-servant's
loft in a garret, 244.

'Twas eve, and Time, his vigorous course pur-
suing, 33.

'T was evening, though not sunset, and the tide,

8.

'T was in mid autumn, and the woods were
still, 493.

'Twas in the prime of summer time, 113.
'T was just before the hay was mown, 77.
'Twas the body of Judas Iscariot, 279.
'Twas the day beside the Pyramids, 322.
Twelve years ago, when I could face, 627.
Twist me a crown of wind-flowers, 379.
Twist thou and twine! in light and gloom, 40.
Twitched strings, the clang of metal, beaten
drums, 601.

Two gaz'd into a pool, he gaz'd and she, 379.
Two souls diverse out of our human sight, 428.
Two stars once on their lonely way, 593.
Two voices are there: one is of the deep, 572.
Two winged genii in the air, 149.

Two worlds hast thou to dwell in, Sweet, 567.
Tyre of the West, and glorying in the name,

59.

Under her gentle seeing, 283.

Under the wide and starry sky, 526.

Up from Earth's centre through the Seventh
Gate, 341.

Up into the cherry tree, 523.
Up, my dogs, merrily, 643.

Upon a day in Ramadan, 248.
Upon St. Michael's Isle, 519.
Up the airy mountain, 317.

Up the dale and down the bourne, 17.

Vainly for us the sunbeams shine, 81.
Vanity, saith the preacher, vanity, 352.
Vasari tells that Luca Signorelli, 272.
Venice, thou Siren of sea-cities, wrought, 274.

Wailing, wailing, wailing, the wind over land
and sea, 209.

Wait but a little while, 584.

Wake! For the Sun who scatter'd into flight,
340.

Wales England wed; so I was bred, 581.
Was sorrow ever like unto our sorrow? 104.
Watchman, tell us of the night, 173.
Water, for anguish of the solstice: - nay, 397.
We are as mendicants who wait, 665.
We are born; we laugh; we weep; 20.
We are in love's land to-day, 420.

We are what suns and winds and waters make
us, 8.

We crown'd the hard-won heights at length, 63.
We do lie beneath the grass, 39.

Weep not! tears must vainly fall, 149.
Wee Willie Winkie rins through the town, 86.
We have been friends together, 93.

We have seen thee, O Love, thou art fair, 422.
Weird wife of Bein-y-Vreich! horo! horo! 219.
We lack, yet cannot fix upon the lack, 379.
Welcome, old friend! These many years, 10.
We'll a' go pu' the heather, 150.
We'll not weep for summer over, 446.
We meet 'neath the sounding rafter, 101.
We must pass like smoke or live within the
spirit's fire, 606.

Were I but his own wife, to guard and to guide
him, 106.

Were you ever in sweet Tipperary, where the
fields are so sunny and green, 105.
Werther had a love for Charlotte, 305.
We saw the swallows gathering in the sky, 371.
We shall lodge at the sign of the Grave, you
say, 611.

We stand upon the moorish mountain side, 65.
We stood so steady, 327.

West wind, blow from your prairie nest, 673.
We've fought with many men acrost the seas,

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595.

We watch'd her breathing thro' the night, 116.
We were playing on the green together, 544.
What are the bugles blowin' for," 595.
What are the Vision and the Cry, 648.
What cometh here from west to east a-wend-
ing? 413.

What curled 'and scented sun-girls, almond-
eyed, 512.

What days await this woman, whose strange
feet, 660.

Whate'er of woe the Dark may hide in womb,
270.

What holds her fixed far eyes nor lets them
range, 565.

What makes a hero? -not success, not fame,

27.

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What voice did on my spirit fall, 216.

What was he doing, the great god Pan, 134.
What was 't awaken'd first the untried ear, 56.
Wheer 'asta beän saw long and meä liggin' 'ere
aloän? 204.

When a' ither bairnies are hush'd to their
hame, 82.

When at close of winter's night, 472.

When do I see thee most, beloved one? 395.
Whene'er across this sinful flesh of mine, 58.
Whene'er there comes a little child, 262.
When first the unflowering Fern-forest, 557.
When from my lips the last faint sigh is blown,

68.

When Helen first saw wrinkles in her face, 14.
When He returns, and finds the world so drear,

284.

When I am dead and I am quite forgot, 557.
When I am dead, my spirit, 564.

When I was dead, my spirit turn'd, 376.
When I was sick and lay a-bed, 523.

When Letty had scarce pass'd her third glad
year, 193.

When, lov'd by poet and painter, 316.
When mirth is full and free, 59.
When my Clorinda walks in white, 591.
When my feet have wander'd, 177.
When on my country walks I go, 591.
When on the breath of autumn breeze, 74.
When our heads are bow'd with woe, 170.
When our two souls stand up erect and strong,

132.

When russet beech-leaves drift in air, 299.
When stars are in the quiet skies, 43.

When the dumb Hour, cloth'd in black, 212.
When the flush of a new-born sun fell first, 598.
When the hounds of spring are on winter's
traces, 421.

When the last bitterness was past, she bore, 564.
When the soul sought refuge in the place of
rest, 605.

When, think you, comes the Wind, 443.
When we are parted let me lie, 329.
When we were girl and boy together, 38.
When you and I have played the little hour,

673.

When you are dead some day, my dear, 568.
Where are the swallows filed, 312.
Where art thou gone, light-ankled Youth ? 9.
Where Ausonian summers glowing, 56.
Where did you come from, baby dear? 164.
Where, girt with orchard and with olive-yard,

554.

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