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He that loves a rosy cheek .
He is gone on the mountain
Hence, all you vain delights
Hence, loathéd Melancholy .
Hence, vain deluding Joys..
He sang of God, the mighty source
High-way, since you my chief Parnassus be
How happy is he born and taught.
How like a winter hath my absence been
How sleep the brave who sink to rest.
How sweet the answer Echo makes .
How vainly men themselves amaze

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I am monarch of all I survey.
I arise from dreams of Thee
I cannot change, as others do
I dream'd that as I wander'd by the way
I fear thy kisses, gentle maiden
I have had playmates, I have had companions
I have no name
I heard a thousand blended notes
I meet thy pensive, moonlight face
I met a traveller from an antique land
I remember, I remember.
I saw Eternity the other night
I saw her in childhood .
I saw my lady weep
I saw where in the shroud did lurk
I travell’d among unknown men
Iwander'd

as a cloud
I was thy neighbour once, thou rugged Pile
I wish I were where Helen lies
If aught of oaten stop or pastoral song
If doughty deeds my lady please .
If I had thought thou couldst have died
If Thou survive my well-contented day
If to be absent were to be
I'm wearing awa', Jean
In a drear-nighted December
In the downhill of life, when I find I'm declining
In the sweet shire of Cardigan
In this still place, remote from men
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
It is a beauteous evening, calm and free
It is not growing like a tree
It was a dismal and a fearful night
It was a lover and his lass
It was a summer evening
I've heard them lilting at our ewe-milking

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Jack and Joan, they think no ill
John Anderson my jo, John

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Lady, when I behold the roses sprouting
Lawrence, of virtuous father virtuous son
Let me not to the marriage of true minds.
Life! I know not what thou art
Like as the waves make towards the pebbie shore
Like to the clear in highest sphere
Love in my bosom, like a bee.
Love in thy youth, fair Maidl, be wise
Love not me for comely grace
Lo! where the rosy-bosom’l Hours
Many a green isle needs must be . .
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 golil .
Music, when soft voices die
My days among the Dead are past
My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
My heart leaps up when I behold . .
My Love in her attire doth shew her wit
My lute, be as thou wert when thou didst grow
My thoughts hold mortal strife .
My true-love hath my heart, and I have his
Never love unless you can
Never seek to tell thy love
No longer mourn for me when I am deal
Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note
Not, Celia, that I juster am
Now the golden Morn aloft.
Now the last day of many days .
O blithe new-comer! I have heard
O Brignall banks are wild and fair
O Friend ! I know not which way I must look .
O happy shades ! to me unblest
O if thou knew'st how thou thyself dost harm
O leave this barren spot to me
O listen, listen, ladies gay
O lovers' eyes are sharp to sec
O Mary, at thy window be
O me! what eyes hath love put in my head
O Mistress mine, where are you roaming
O my Luve's like a red, red rose
O never say that I was false of heart
O saw ye bonnie Lesley
O say what is that thing callid Light
O talk not to me of a name great in story
O Thou, by Nature taught
O waly waly up the bank.

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O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms
O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being
O World ! O Life! O Time.
Obscurest night involved the sky
Of all the girls that are so smart
Of a' the airts the wind can blaw .
Of Nelson and the North , .
Of Neptune's empire let us sing
Of this fair volume which we World do name
Oft I had heard of Lucy Gray
Oft in the stilly night
Oh snatch'd away in beauty's bloom
On a day, alack the day
On a Poet's lips I slept
Once did She hold the gorgeous East in fee
One more Unfortunate
One word is too often profaner!
On Linden, when the sun was low
Our bugles sang truce, for the night-cloud had lower'l .
Over the mountains

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Pack, clouds, away, and welcome day
Phoebus, arise.
Pibroch of Donuil Dhu.
Poor Soul, the centre of iny sinful earth
Proud Maisie is in the wood

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Queen and Huntress, chaste and fair
Rough Wind, that moanest loud
Ruin seize thee, ruthless King
Season of mist and mellow fruitfulness
See with what simplicity . .
Shall I compare thee to a summer's clay.
Shall I, wasting in despair
She dwelt among the untrodilen ways
She is not fair to outward view
She walks in beauty, like the night
She was a Phantom of delight
Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea
Since there's no help, come let us kiss and part
Sleep, angry beauty, sleep and fear not me
Sleep on, and dream of Heaven awhile
Sleep, sleep, beauty bright .
Souls of Poets dead and gone
Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year's pleasant king
Star that bringest home the bee.
Stern Daughter of the Voice of God
Surprizeci by joy-impatient as the wind
Sweet, be not proud of those two eyes
Sweet Highland Girl, a very shower.
Sweet Love, if thou wilt gain a monarch's glory

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Sweet stream, that winds through yonder glade

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Swiftly walk over the western wave .

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Take, O take those lips away
Tax not the royal Saint with vain expense

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Tell me not, Sweet, I an unkind

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Tell me where is Fancy bred

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That time of year thou may’st in me behold .

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That which her slender waist confined

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The curfew tolls the knell of parting day

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The forward youth that would appear .

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The fountains mingle with the river

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The glories of our blood and state

74
The last and greatest Herald of Heaven's King

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The lovely lass o’ Inverness

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The man of life upright

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The merchant, to secure his treasure

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The more we live, more brief appear

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The nightingale, as soon as April bringeth .

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The poplars are fell’d; farewell to the shade

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There be none of Beauty's daughters

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There is a flower, the lesser Celandine

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There is a garden in her face

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There's not a joy the world can give like that it takes away 252
There's not a nook within this solemsu Pass

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There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream

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The sea hath many thousand sands

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The sun is warm, the sky is clear.

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The sun upon the lake is low.

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The twentieth year is well-nigh past

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The world is too much with us ; late and soon

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They are all gone into the world of light

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They that have power to hurt, and will do none
This is the month, and this the happy morn

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This Life, which seems so fair

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Though others may her brow adore

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Thou art not fair, for all thy red and white

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Thou still unravish'd bride of quietness .

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Three years she grew in sun and shower.

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Thy braes were bonny, Yarrow stream

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Timely blossom, Infant fair .

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Tired with all these, for restful death I cry

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Toll for the Brave

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To me, fair Friend, you never can be oid

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To one who has been long in city pent

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Turn back, you wanton flyer
Twas at the royal feast for Persia won

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'Twas on a lofty vase's side

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Two Voices are there; one is of the Sea .

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Under the greenwood tree

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Upon my lap my sovereign sits

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Verse, a breeze 'mid blossoms straying

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Victorious men of earth, no more

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Waken, lords and ladies gay
Wee, sleekit, cow'rin', tiin'rous beastie
Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee .
Weep you no more, sad fountains.
Were I as base as is the lowly plain .
We talk'd with open heart, and tongue
We walk'd along, while bright and red
We watch'd her breathing thro' the night
Whenas in silks my Julia goes
When Britain first at Heaven's command
When first the fiery-mantled Sun
When God at first made Man
When he who adores thee has left but the name
When icicles hang by the wall
When I consider how my light is hathas tained
When I have borne in memory
When I have fears that I may cease to be
When I have seen by Time's fell hand defaced .
When I survey the bright
When I think on the happy days
When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes .
When in the chronicle of wasted time.
When lovely woman stoops to folly .
When Love with unconfinéd wings
When maidens such as Hester die
When Music, heavenly maid, was young
When Ruth was left half desolate .
When the lamp is shatter'd .
When the sheep are in the fauld, and the kye at hame
When thou must.home to shades of underground
When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
When we two parted .
Where art thou, my beloved Son
Where shall the lover rest
Where the bee sucks, there suck I
Where the remote Bermudas ride
Whether on

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While that'llda's shady

brow.

sun with his beams hot.
Whoe'er she be
Why art thou silent? Is thy love a plant
Why so pale and wan, fond lover
Why weep ye by the tide, ladie
With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the skies
With little here to do or see
With sweetest milk and sugar first
Ye banks and braes and streams around ,
Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon
Ye distant spires, ye antique towers
Ye Mariners of England ..
Yes, there is holy pleasure in thire eye
Yet once more, o ye laurels, and once more
You meaner beauties of the night. .

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