Once did She hold the gorgeous East in fee One more Unfortunate One word is too often profaned On Linden, when the sun was low Our bugles sang truce, for the night-cloud had lower'd' Over the mountains Pack, clouds, away, and welcome day Phoebus, arise Pibroch of Donuil Dhu Poor Soul, the centre of my sinful earth' 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 day Shall I, wasting in despair PAGE 291 309 283 293 356 134 95 52 283 102 308 131 389 190 343 135 65 152 Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea 54 Since there's no help, come let us kiss and part 80 Sleep, angry beauty, sleep and fear not me 81 Sleep on, and dream of Heaven awhile 204 Sleep, sleep, beauty bright 215 Souls of Poets dead and gone Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year's pleasant king 307 51/ Sweet Love, if thou wilt gain a monarch's glory 64 Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind That time of year thou may'st in me behold' 138 92 There is a garden in her face 142 There's not a joy the world can give like that it takes away 302 There's not a nook within this solemn Pass 390 There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream 391 The sea hath many thousand sands 83 The sun is warm, the sky is clear 306 The sun upon the lake is low 354 The twentieth year is well-nigh past 242 The world is too much with us; late and soon 380 They are all gone into the world of light 159 Though others may her brow adore 61 332 66 179 187 291 57 155 Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee 87 64 71 386 We walk'd along, while bright and red We watch'd her breathing thro' the night 384 When he who adores thee has left but the name 296 When icicles hang by the wall 73 When I consider how my light is spent 126 When I have borne in memory what has tamed 293 279 They that have power to hurt, and will do none This is the month, and this the happy morn Thou art not fair, for all thy red and white Tired with all these, for restful death I cry Toll for the Brave To me, fair Friend, you never can be old 'Twas at the royal feast for Persia won 'Twas on a lofty vase's side Two Voices are there; one is of the Sea Under the greenwood tree Upon my lap my sovereign sits When I think on the happy days When I have seen by Time's fell hand defaced When I survey the bright When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes 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 PAGE 54 176 232 60 65 206 149 312 211 363 276 228 87 74 271 320 272 Where shall the lover rest Where the bee sucks, there suck I Where the remote Bermudas ride Whether on Ida's shady brow While that the sun with his beams hot Whoe'er she be 52 174 82 132 Why art thou silent? Is thy love a plant 270 Why so pale and wan, fond lover 150 Why weep ye by the tide, ladie 265 With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the skies 86 Yet once more, ye laurels, and once more 118 138 |