John Anderson my jo, John Just for a handful of silver he left us Last night, among his fellow roughs. Let us begin and carry up this corpse 378 My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains 248 452 My heart leaps up when I behold 308 My little Son, who look'd from thoughtful eyes 444 79 24 27 My true-love hath my heart, and I have his 16 Nobly, nobly Cape Saint Vincent to the North-West died away 375 No longer mourn for me when I am dead 30 Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note 216 O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done O fair and stately maid, whose eyes 331 126 156 205 O Friend! I know not which way I must look 210 40 224 Oh roses for the flush of youth 452 Oh, to be in England now that April 's there 374 Oh! wherefore come ye forth, in triumph from the O if thou knew'st how thou thyself dost harm. 323 15 O Mary, at thy window be 'O Mary, go and call the cattle home O me! what eyes hath love put in my head On a poet's lips I slept Once did She hold the gorgeous East in fee O talk not to me of a name great in story 173 Others abide our question-Thou art free 419 Our bugles sang truce, for the night-cloud had lower'd O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being Pray but one prayer for me 'twixt thy closed lips 463 229 Proud word you never spoke, but you will speak 319 Roll forth, my song, like the rushing river 329 115 Say not, the struggle naught availeth 400 322 Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness 261 Shall I compare thee to a summer's day 12 85 Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea Since there's no help, come let us kiss and part Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year's pleasant king Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean That time of year thou may'st in me behold PAGE 363 72 30 18 79 446 The last and greatest Herald of Heaven's King 41 119 There is delight in singing, tho' none hear 318 There's not a joy the world can give like that it takes away 221 There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream The world is too much with us; late and soon 300 The year 's at the spring The World's a bubble, and the Life of Man They that have power to hurt, and will do none 39 373 20 They told me, Heraclitus, they told me you were dead 441 This is a spray the Bird clung to 376 This is the Arsenal. From floor to ceiling 339 This is the month, and this the happy morn 42 This is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign 353 This Life, which seems so fair. Three years she grew in sun and shower 38 180 417 Thy braes were bonny, Yarrow stream'. Tired with all these, for restful death I cry To me, fair Friend, you never can be old Two Voices are there, one is of the Sea Under the greenwood tree Verse, a breeze 'mid blossoms straying PAGE 121 87 113 41 123 9 323 105 112 209 5 301 61 Wee, sleekit, cow'rin', tim 'rous beastie 141 Welcome, wild North-easter 404 Well I remember how you smiled 319 Were I as base as is the lowly plain When he who adores thee has left but the name When I have borne in memory what has tamed When maidens such as Hester die 211 198 3 8 13 131 82 234 |