My days among the Dead are past My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My heart's like a singing bird My Love in her attire doth shew her wit My lute, be as thou wert when thou didst grow My true-love hath my heart, and I have his Never love unless you can Never seek to tell thy love Nobly, nobly Cape Saint Vincent to the North-West died away No longer mourn for me when I am dead. Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note Not, Celia, that I juster am Now the golden Morn aloft PAGE 257 279 341 414 96 39 38 20 16 156 378 42 247 98 133 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. O talk not to me of a name great in story O me! what eyes hath love put in my head O my Luve's like a red, red rose O saw ye bonnie Lesley O Swallow, Swallow, flying, flying South O Thou, by Nature taught 31 22 177 11 176 136 371 202 134 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 Oh, Death will never find us in the heart of the wood 428 Oh, to be in England, now that April's there Of this fair volume which we World do name 53 213 243 On Linden, when the sun was low Our bugles sang truce, for the night-cloud had lower'd 306 Over the mountains. 430 422 84 Pack, clouds, away, and welcome day Phoebus, arise, Pibroch of Donuil Dhu 45 2 233 Poor Soul, the centre of my sinful earth Pray but one prayer for me 'twixt thy closed lips Proud word you never spoke, but you Ring out, wild bells, from the wild sky Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea 4 Since there's no help, come let us kiss and part 30 Sleep, angry beauty, sleep and fear not me Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year's pleasant king. Sweet Love, if thou wilt gain a monarch's glory Take, O take those lips away Tax not the royal Saint with vain expense Tell me where is Fancy bred. That time of year thou may'st in me behold 23 That which her slender waist confined 96 There is a garden in her face. 92 There is delight in singing, tho' none hear 349 There's not a joy the world can give like that it takes There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream 341 33 The twentieth year is well-nigh past 192 The world is too much with us; late and soon 330 They are all gone into the world of light. 109 The year's at the spring 375 They that have power to hurt, and will do none 26 379 This is the month, and this the happy morn 56 This Life, which seems so fair 51 Though others may her brow adore 21 Thou art not fair, for all thy red and white 34 Thou still unravish'd bride of quietness 331 Three years she grew in sun and shower 209 Thy braes were bonny, Yarrow stream 146 138 Tired with all these, for restful death i cry 54 Toll for the Brave 148 PAGR To me, fair Friend, you never can be old 11 To one who has been long in city pent 282 16 'Twas at the royal feast for Persia won 129 'Twas on a lofty vase's side 137 Two Voices are there; one is of the Sea 241 Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee 37 Weep you no more, sad fountains 14 Were I as base as is the lowly plain 21 336 We walk'd along, while bright and red 334 We watch'd her breathing thro' the night When he who adores thee has left but the name When I have borne in memory what has tamed When the sheep are in the fauld, and the kye at hame. 178 When thou must home to shades of underground. Where lies the land to which the ship would go 390 222 Where the bee sucks, there suck I PAGE 2 Where the remote Bermudas ride 124 Where the thistle lifts a purple crown 423 197 While that the sun with his beams hot 32 Whoe'er she be 82 Why art thou silent? Is thy love a plant 220 Why so pale and wan, fond lover 100 Why weep ye by the tide, ladie 215 With deep affection 352 With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the skies Ye banks and braes and streams around Yes, there is holy pleasure in thine eye 284 355 68 88 Printed in the United States of America. |