Through Cumbrian wilds, in many a mountain cove

Through shattered galleries, 'mid roofless halls
Thus all things lead to Charity, secured

Thus is the storm abated by the craft

'Tis not for the unfeeling, the falsely refined.
Tis said, fantastic ocean doth enfold

Tis said that some have died for love

'Tis said that to the brow of yon fair hill

Under the shadow of a stately Pile
Ungrateful Country, if thou e'er forget
Unless to Peter's Chair the viewless wind
Unquiet Childhood here by special grace
Untouched through all severity of cold.
'Up, Timothy, up with your staff and away
Up to the throne of God is borne.
Up! Up! my Friend, and quit your books
Up with me! up with me into the clouds
Urged by Ambition, who with subtlest skill
Uttered by whom, or how inspired-designed

Vallombrosa! I longed in thy shadiest wood
'Vallombrosa-I longed in thy shadiest wood
Vanguard of Liberty, ye men of Kent
Vasco, whose bold and happy mainyard spread

'Wait, prithee, wait!' this answer Lesbia threw .
Wanderer! that stoop'st so low, and com'st so near
Wansfell! this Household has a favoured lot
Ward of the Law! dread Shadow of a King.
Was it to disenchant, and to undo.
Was the aim frustrated by force or guile
Watch, and be firm! for, soul-subduing vice.
'Weak is the will of Man, his judgment blind
We can endure that He should waste our lands
Weep not, beloved Friends! nor let the air.
We gaze-nor grieve to think that we must die
We had a female Passenger who came.
We have not passed into a doleful City.
Well have yon Railway Labourers to THIS ground

Well may'st thou halt-and gaze with brightening eye
Well sang the Bard who called the grave, in strains
Well worthy to be magnified are they

Were there, below, a spot of holy ground

Were there, below, a spot of holy ground (earlier version)

We saw, but surely, in the motley crowd

We talked with open heart, and tongue.

We walked along, while bright and red.

What aim had they, the Pair of Monks, in size
What aspect bore the Man who roved or fled
What awful perspective! while from our sight
'What beast in wilderness or cultured field
What beast of chase hath broken from the cover

What crowd is this? what have we here! we must not pass

it by

What heavenly smiles! O Lady mine

What! He-who, 'mid the kindred throng.

What is good for a bootless bene?

11.

'What know we of the Blest above

What lovelier home could gentle Fancy choose
What mischief cleaves to unsubdued regret
What need of clamorous bells, or ribands gay
What strong allurement draws, what spirit guides.
What though the Accused, upon his own appeal
What though the Italian pencil wrought not here.
What way does the Wind come? What way does he go?
What, you are stepping westward?'—' Yea'

·

When Alpine Vales threw forth a suppliant cry
Whence that low voice?-A whisper from the heart
When, far and wide, swift as the beams of morn
When first, descending from the moorlands
When haughty expectations prostrate lie
When here with Carthage Rome to conflict came
When human touch (as monkish books attest)
When I have borne in memory what has tamed
When in the antique age of bow and spear
When, looking on the present face of things
When Love was born of heavenly line
When Philoctetes in the Lemnian isle
When Ruth was left half desolate .

When Severn's sweeping flood had overthrown
When the soft hand of sleep had closed the latch
When thy great soul was freed from mortal chains.
When, to the attractions of the busy world
Where are they now, those wanton Boys
Where art thou, my beloved Son .
Where be the noisy followers of the game
Where be the temples which in Britain's Isle
Where holy ground begins, unhallowed ends
Where lies the Land to which yon Ship must go
Where lies the truth? has Man, in wisdom's creed
Where long and deeply hath been fixed the root
Where towers are crushed, and unforbidden weeds
Where will they stop, those breathing Powers
While Anna's peers and early playmates tread
While beams of orient light shoot wide and high
While flowing rivers yield a blameless sport.

While not a leaf seems faded; while the fields
While poring Antiquarians search the ground
While the Poor gather round, till the end of time
'Who but hails the sight with pleasure
Who but is pleased to watch the morn on high
Who comes-with rapture greeted, and caress'd
Who fancied what a pretty sight

Who is the happy Warrior? Who is he

Who leads a happy life.

Who ponders National events shall find

Who rashly strove thy Image to portray

Who rises on the banks of Seine

.

Who swerves from innocence, who makes divorce.

II. 50

II. 164

Why should the Enthusiast, journeying through this Isle

Why should we weep or mourn, Angelic boy
Why sleeps the future, as a snake enrolled

II. 112

I. 435
II. 298

With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the sky
Within her gilded cage confined

Within our happy Castle there dwelt One

'With sacrifice before the rising morn

With Ships the sea was sprinkled far and nigh
Woe to the Crown that doth the Cowl obey
'Woe to you, Prelates! rioting in ease.
Woman! the Power who left his throne on high
Wouldst thou be gathered to Christ's chosen flock.
Wouldst thou be taught, when sleep has taken flight
Would that our scrupulous Sires had dared to leave

Ye Apennines! with all your fertile vales
Ye brood of Conscience-Spectres! that frequent
Ye Lime-trees, ranged before this hallowed Urn
Ye sacred Nurseries of blooming Youth
Ye shadowy Beings, that have rights and claims
Yes! hope may with my strong desire keep pace
Yes, if the intensities of hope and fear
Yes, it was the mountain Echo

Yes, thou art fair, yet be not moved

Yes, though He well may tremble at the sound
Ye Storms, resound the praises of your King
Yet are they here, the same unbroken knot
Yet many a Novice of the cloistral shade
Yet more,-round many a Convent's blazing fire
Ye, too, must fly before a chasing hand.
Ye Trees! whose slender roots entwine

Yet Truth is keenly sought for, and the wind
Yet, yet, Biscayans! we must meet our Foes
Ye vales and hills whose beauty hither drew.
You call it, 'Love lies bleeding,'-so you may
You have heard a Spanish Lady

YOUNG ENGLAND-what is then become of Old .

INDEX OF TITLES

NOTE.-Poems not possessing titles should as a rule be sought in the Index of
First Lines; but a few will be found in this Index under titles supplied from their
subject-matter. This Index, being intended solely for convenience of reference,
does not aim at giving the literal titles of the poems as named by Wordsworth.

AAR, The Fall of the, ii. 90.
Abbeys, Old, ii. 278.

Address from the Spirit of Cockermouth
Castle, ii. 300.

to a Child, i. 118.

to Kilchurn Castle, ii. 13.

to my Infant Daughter, i. 282.
to the Scholars of the Village
School of - iii. 7.

Admonition, i. 432.

Eneid, Translation of Part of the First

Book of the, iii. 427.

Aerial Rock, i. 435.

Affliction of Margaret

181.

Afflictions of England, ii. 264.

Anticipation (October 1803), ii. 50.
of leaving School, Composed in,
i. I.
Apennines, Among the Ruins of a
Convent in the, ii. 136.

Apology (Eccl. Son., 1st Part), L
236.

(Eccl. Son., 2nd Part), ii. 255.
(Sonnets upon the Punishment of
Death), i, 396.

(Yarrow Revisited), ii. 181.
Applethwaite, i. 433.

Aquapendente, Musings near, ii. 116.

The, i. Armenian Lady's Love, The, i. 221.
Artegal and Elidure, i. 155.
Authors, A Plea for, i. 476.
Author's Portrait, To the, i. 470.
Avarice, The last Stage of, ii. 481.
Avon, The (Annan), ii. 178.

After-thought (Tour on Continent),
ii. 91.

(Duddon), ii. 165.

Ailsa Crag, Frith of Clyde, ii. 310.
Airey-Force Valley, i. 307.
Aix-la-Chapelle, ii. 87.

Alban Hills, From the, ii. 128.
Albano, At, ii. 127.

Ancient History, On a celebrated Event

in (Two Son.), ii. 52.

Andrew Jones, iii. 420.

Anecdote for Fathers, i. 128.

To Lady, i. 453.

Beggar, Old Cumberland, ii. 473-
Beggars (Two Poems), i. 318.

Animal Tranquillity and Decay, ii. Beloved Vale,' i. 432.

482.

Anio, ii. 128.

Anna, i. 466.

606

Benefits, Other (Two Son.), ii. 247.
Bible, Translation of the, ii. 257.
Binnorie, The Solitude of, i. 260.