WILDE, RICHARD HENRY (1789-1847), 289. Woodberry, GEORGE EDWARD (1855- ), 18. WORDSWORTH, WILLIAM (1770-1850), 5, 7, 43, 49, 59, 83, 99, WOTTON, SIR HENRY (1568-1639), 116, 142. ANONYMOUS, IO, 124, 181, 189, 196, 279, 283, 298, 303, 307, 318, INDEX OF FIRST LINES PAGE A flock of sheep that leisurely pass by A steed! a steed of matchless speed A wearied pilgrim I have wander'd here A widow bird sat mourning for her love A widow she had only one! 68 Ah! County Guy, the hour is nigh 237 Ah, did you once see Shelley plain? 217 Ah, my Perilla! dost thou grieve to see 131 Ah, sweet, thou little knowest how 191 Ah, were she pitiful as she is fair 194 Ah what avails the sceptred race 195 Airly Beacon, Airly Beacon 182 All love, at first, like gen'rous wine All June I bound the rose in sheaves. All Nature seems at work. Slugs leave their lair All's over, then does truth sound bitter All that thou art not, makes not up the sum All the breath and the bloom of the year Although I enter not Among thy fancies tell me this Another lamb, O Lamb of God, behold Art thou pale for weariness Art thou poor, yet hast thou golden slumbers ? As a twig trembles, which a bird 273 292 92 338 96 As I came round the harbour buoy As ships, becalm'd at eve, that lay As slow our ship her foamy track As thro' the land at eve we went Ask me no more: the moon may draw the sea Ask me why I send you here At the corner of Wood Street, when daylight appears Be not afraid to pray - - Beating heart! we come again to pray is right Beauties, have ye seen this toy Behind him lay the gray Azores. Blest pair of Sirens, pledges of Heaven's joy Bonnie wee thing! cannie wee thing! Brave flowers-that I could gallant it like you Breathes there the man with soul so dead Call for the robin-redbreast and the wren Come live with me and be my Love Come not, when I am dead. Come rest in my bosom, my own stricken deer Could ye come back to me, Douglas, Douglas Creep into thy narrow bed Cromwell, our chief of men, who through a cloud Cyriack, this three years' day, these eyes, though clear 300 Daughters of Time, the hypocritic Days De massa ob de sheepfol' Death, be not proud, though some have called thee Death stands above me, whispering low Does the road wind up-hill all the way Drink to me only with thine eyes PAGE 57 166 123 13 358 12 279 295 299 139 Duncan Gray cam here to woo Earth has not anything to show more fair Fair pledges of a fruitful tree Fame, like a wayward girl, will still be coy Fear Death? to feel the fog in my throat - Fear no more the heat o' the sun Flow down, cold rivulet, to the sea Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes Flower in the crannied wall Foil'd by our fellow men, depress'd, outworn Follow your saint, follow with accents sweet Four Seasons fill the measure of the year Gane were but the winter cauld Gather ye rose-buds while ye may Gin a body meet a body Give me more love or more disdain Go fetch to me a pint o' wine Go from me. Yet I feel that I shall stand God moves in a mysterious way God of our fathers, known of old Green grow the rashes O Hail thou most sacred venerable thing! Hame, hame, hame! oh, hame I fain would be! Happy were he could finish forth his fate 20 78 |