INDEX OF FIRST LINES Absence, hear thou my protestation. A Chieftain to the Highlands bound 8 Ah, Chloris! could I now but sit 328 84 221 147 202 182 At the corner of Wood Street, when daylight appears 305 At the mid hour of night, when stars are weeping, I fly. 237 Avenge, O Lord! thy slaughter'd Saints, whose bones 60 Awake, Aeolian lyre, awake 156 Awake, awake, my Lyre 99 A weary lot is thine, fair maid 231 A wet sheet and a flowing sea A widow bird sate mourning for her Love 242 327 Being your slave, what should I do but tend Behold her, single in the field. 304 Beneath these fruit-tree boughs that shed. Blest pair of Sirens, pledges of Heaven's joy Bright Star! would I were steadfast as thou art Call for the robin-redbreast and the wren. Come live with me and be my Love Cupid and my Campaspe play'd. Cyriack, whose grandsire, on the royal bench Daughter of Jove, relentless power. Daughter to that good earl, once President Degenerate Douglas! O the unworthy lord. 35 38 74 27 33 4 6 37 79 190 Doth then the world go thus, doth all thus move Down in yon garden sweet and gay Drink to me only with thine eyes 300 12 47 144 91 Duncan Gray cam here to woo 181 Earl March look'd on his dying child Earth has not anything to show more fair Four Seasons fill the measure of the year From Harmony, from heavenly Harmony 365 58 He is gone on the mountain How happy is he born and taught How like a winter hath my absence been. I am monarch of all I survey. 289 131 77 89 279 ΙΟΙ III 116 219 75 9 141 221 109 I arise from dreams of Thee I dream'd that as I wander'd by the way If aught of oaten stop or pastoral song I fear thy kisses, gentle maiden If Thou survive my well-contented day If women could be fair, and yet not fond. 192 209 329 169 152 212 35 97 31 In the downhill of life, when I find I'm declining. I travell'd among unknown men It was a summer evening I've heard them lilting at our ewe-milking I wander'd lonely as a cloud I was thy neighbour once, thou rugged Pile Let me not to the marriage of true minds 18 199 Mary! I want a lyre with other strings Milton! thou shouldst be living at this hour Mine be a cot beside the hill Mortality, behold and fear. Most sweet it is with unuplifted eyes Much have I travell'd in the realms of gold . My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains. My Love in her attire doth shew her wit My true-love hath my heart, and I have his. No longer mourn for me when I am dead Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note Not, Celia, that I juster am 194 251 O blithe new-comer! I have heard O Friend! I know not which way I must look Of this fair volume which we World do name O if thou knew'st how thou thyself dost harm O me! what eyes hath love put in my head 295 206 • 149 184 244 250 47 267 18 281 233 176 29 20 178 O talk not to me of a name great in story Our bugles sang truce, for the night-cloud had lower'd Over the mountains O waly waly up the bank O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being O World! O Life! O Time! . Pack, clouds, away, and welcome day. Poor Soul, the centre of my sinful earth Proud Maisie is in the wood Queen and Huntress, chaste and fair 177 131 277 Rarely, rarely, comest thou Ruin seize thee, ruthless King 268 136 |