As thus oppressed with many a heavy care

As when it happeneth that some lovely town
As winter, in some mild autumnal days

A trouble, not of clouds, or weeping rain

Avenge, O Lord, thy slaughtered saints, whose bones

A volant Tribe of Bards on earth are found
A wrinkled, crabbed man they picture thee

Beauty still walketh on the earth and air -
Beauty, sweet Love, is like the morning dew
Because I breathe not love to every one
Because thou wast the daughter of a king
*Behold the melancholy season's wane!

Being your slave, what should I do but tend
*Beneath a sable vaile, and Shadowes deepe
Be not afraid to pray-to pray is right
Beyond the pine-wood all looked bright and clear
Blue! 'Tis the life of heaven,--the domain
Brave Schill! by death delivered, take thy flight
Bright star! would I were steadfast as thou art
Broad, but not deep, along his rock-chafed bed
Brook! whose society the Poet seeks -
But be contented: when that fell arrest
But do thy worst to steal thyself away -
*But love whilst that thou maist be lov'd againe
*But one short week ago the trees were bare

Cambridge, with whom, my pilot and my guide
Captain, or Colonel, or Knight in arms
Care-charmer Sleep, son of the sable Night
*Care-charmer Sleepe, sweet ease in restles miserie
Child of the clouds! remote from every taint
*Cleere Ankor, on whose Silver-sanded shore
Come, Sleep, O Sleep! the certain knot of peace -
Could I but harmonize one kindly thought
*Couldst thou in calmness yield thy mortal breath
*Could then the Babes from yon unshelter'd cot
Cromwell, our chief of men, who through a cloud

*Cynthia, whose glories are at full for ever

-

Dewint! I would not flatter, nor would I

146

Fair art thou, Phyllis; ay, so fair, sweet maid
*Faire, since thy Virtues my affections move
Fairest, when by the rules of palmistry

Fairfax, whose name in arms through Europe rings
Fair maid, had I not heard thy baby cries
Fair Star of evening, Splendour of the west
Farewell, Love, and all thy laws for ever!
Farewell on man's dark journey o'er the deep
Farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing
*Far from all measured space, yet clear and plain
Far from the sight of earth, yet bright and plain
Fixed in a white-thorn bush, its summer guest
Flowers! when the Saviour's calm, benignant eye
Fond words have oft been spoken to thee, Sleep!
Four seasons fill the measure of the year
Fresh Spring, the herald of love's mighty king
Friend of my earliest years and childish days
From low to high doth dissolution climb

*From off the chill and misty lower verge -

449

Happy, ye leaves! whenas those lily hands
Hardly we breathe, although the air be free -
Harry, whose tuneful and well-measured song
Having this day my horse, my hand, my lance
Hearken! there is in old Morwenna's shrine
Hearken, thou craggy ocean-pyramid !
Heart of my heart! of Love let us commune
*He drew it home-he heaved it to the bank
Heed not a world that neither thee can keep
*He left the upland lawns and serene air
Henceforward shall our time be plainly read
*Here sleeps beneath this bank, where daisies grow
He was a mild old man, and cherished much
High is our calling, Friend-Creative Art
*Highway, since you my chiefe Pernassus be
Hope smiled wnen your nativity was cast
How bravely Autumn paints upon the sky
How can my Muse want subject to invent
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways
How like a winter hath my absence been
How like the leper, with his own sad cry -
*How long I sail'd, and never took a thought
How many blessed groups this hour are bending
How must the soldier's tearful heart expand
How oft, when thou, my music, music play'st
How peacefully the broad and golden moon
How profitless the relics that we cull

If by dull rimes our English must be chained
If crost with all mishaps be my poor life
*If Cupid keepe his quiver in thine eye
If I have sinned in act, I may repent
If I leave all for thee, wilt thou exchange
If it must be; if it must be, O God!
If I were a dead leaf thou mightest bear
*If Musique and sweet Poetrie agree

If thou must love me, let it be for nought
If thou survive my well-contented day
*I grieved for Buonaparté, with a vain
I have a circlet of thy sunny hair -

I have been in the meadows all the day

I know that all beneath the moon decays

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*Lo! how the sailor in a stormy night -
Lo! in the burning west, the craggy nape
*Lone Flower, hemmed in with snows and white as they
Long time a child, and still a child, when years
*Long-while I sought to what I might compare
Look, Delia, how w' esteem the half-blown rose -
*Looke how the pale Queene of the silent night
Look how the flower which lingeringly doth fade
Look what immortal floods the sunset pours -
*Lord, what a change within us one short hour
Lord, with what care hast Thou begirt us round!
*Love, banish'd Heav'n, in Earth was held in scorne
Love, dearest lady, such as I would speak

Lo! where she stands fixed in a saint-like trance -

Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is
Mark when she smiles with amiable cheer
Martha, thy maiden foot is still so light
Mary! I want a lyre with other strings
Men call you fair, and you do credit it
Methinks the innumerable eyes of ours
Methinks we do as fretful children do
Methought I saw my late espoused saint
Methought I saw the grave where Laura lay
Milton! thou should'st be living at this hour
*Month after month the gathered rains descend
More than most fair, full of the living fire
Mortal! at last what will it thee bestead
Most glorious Lord of life! that on this day
Most sweet it is with unuplifted eyes
Mother! whose virgin bosom was uncrost
Mourn not, fair Greece, the ruin of thy kings
Much have I travelled in the realms of gold
Muses that sing Love's sensual empery
Music, and frankincense of flowers, belong
Music to hear, why hear'st thou music sadly?
*Mute is thy wild harp now, O Bard sublime!
*My childhood was a vision heavenly wrought