The Manly Heart WITHER, George (1588-1667). WOLFE, Charles (1791-1823). The Burial of Sir John Moore WORDSWORTH, William (1770-1850). She was a phantom of delight She dwelt among the untrodden ways I travell'd among unknown men The Education of Nature A slumber did my spirit seal To a distant Friend Desideria Ode to Duty England and Switzerland, 1802 On the extinction of the Venetian Republic' The Affliction of Margaret The Green Linnet cclxxxix cexci ccxciv The World is too much with us Within King's College Chapel, Cambridge The Two April Mornings The Trossachs The Fountain My heart leaps up Ode on Intimations of Immortality WOOTTON, Henry (1568-1639). Elizabeth of Bohemia INDEX OF FIRST LINES A Chieftain to the Highlands bound A child's a plaything for an hour A flock of sheep that leisurely pass by A sweet disorder in the dress A weary lot is thine, fair maid A wet sheet and a flowing sea And is this-Yarrow?-This the Stream And wilt thou leave me thus Ariel to Miranda:-Take Art thou pale for weariness PAGE 251 320 355 260 145 275 285 58 136 267 299 249 231 347 281 76 355 Art thou poor, yet hast thou golden slumbers At the corner of Wood Street, when daylight appears 338 At the mid hour of night, when stars are weeping, I fly 280 Avenge, O Lord! Thy slaughter'd saints, whose bones Being your slave, what should I do but tend' Bright Star! would I were steadfast as thou art 278 Call for the robin-redbreast and the wren 91 Calm was the day, and through the trembling air Captain, or Colonel, or Knight in Arms 95 125 78 Come away, come away, Death Come, cheerful day, part of my life to me Come live with me and be my Love PAGE 88 101 85 55 Come, Sleep: O Sleep! the certain knot of peace 74 52 Crabbed Age and Youth 56 Cupid and my Campaspé play'd 104 Cyriack, whose grandsire, on the royal bench 130 Daughter of Jove, relentless power 238 Daughter to that good Earl, once President 139 Degenerate Douglas! oh, the unworthy lord 333 Doth then the world go thus, doth all thus move Fine knacks for ladies, cheap, choice, brave and new Get up, get up for shame! The blooming morn Hence, vain deluding Joys He sang of God, the mighty source High-way, since you my chief Parnassus be 170 214 59 |