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I had a little pony, 34.
I love the fitful gust that shakes, 210.
I remember, I remember, 57.
I saw with open eyes, 10.
I strove with none, for none was worth my strife, 115.
I wandered lonely as a cloud, 107.
I will make you brooches and toys for your delight, 50.
I wish I were where Helen lies, 73.
If I should die, think only this of me, 174.
If there were dreams to sell, 27.
I'll hope no more, 185.
It is a beauteous evening, calm and free, 186.
It is not growing like a tree, 84.
It was the frog in the well, 32.


Jack and Joan, they think no ill, 17.
John Anderson my jo, John, 170.
Johnny shall have a new bonnet, 32.

Lawn as white as driven snow, 70.
Little trotty wagtail, he went in the rain, 2.
Lord, thou hast given me a cell, 203.



Mad Patsy said, he said to me, 2.
Mary had a little lamb, 41.
Methinks this world is oddly made, 91.
Mine be a cot beside the hill,
Mrs. Thomas Willow seems very glum, 173.
My heart leaps up when I behold, 107.
My little son, who look'd from thoughtful eyes, 175.
My noble, lovely little Peggy, 28.
My prime of youth is but a frost of cares, 84.
My soul, there is a country, 113.


Now that the winter 's gone, the earth hath lost, 105.
Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger, 23.
Nymph, nymph, what are your beads: 139.

O blithe New-comer! I have heard, 9.
O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done, 140.
O Lord, who didst create all things, 176.
O Mary, go and call the cattle home, 13.
O my Luve's like a red, red rose, 192.
O sing unto my roundelay, 129.
O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms, 136.
O where hae ye been, Lord Randal, my son? 76.
O wild West Wind, thou breath of autumn's being, 199.
Oh, to be in England now that April's there, 23.
Old King Cole, 36.
On a poet's lips I slept, 112.

Over hill, over dale, 70.

Pack, clouds, away, and welcome day, 71.
Perched on my city office-stool, 169.
Piping down the valleys wild, 1.

Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky, 29.

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, 202.
She dwelt among the untrodden ways, 112.
She stood breast-high amid the corn, 44.
Shepherds all, and maidens fair, 52.
Simple Simon met a pieman, 34.
Sing for the sun your lyric, lark, 7.
Sing his praises that doth keep, 105.
So now is come our joyful'st feast, 147.
Sweet and low, sweet and low, 127.
Sweet are the thoughts that savour of content, 82.
Sweet Auburn, loveliest village of the plain, 150.

'T was on a lofty vase's side, 3.
'T would ring the bells of heaven, 78.
Teach me, my God and King, 77.
Tell me about that harvest field, 196.
Tell me not, sweet, I am unkind, 111.

The bird in the corn, 59.
The curfew tolls the knell of parting day, 205.
The fountains mingle with the river, 110.
The glories of our blood and state, 192.
The green corn waving in the dale, 168.
The isles of Greece, the isles of Greece! 87.
The lopped tree in time may grow again, 85.
The man of life upright, 109.
The north wind doth blow, 37.
The stars must make an awful noise, 24.
The sun descending in the west, 53.
The warm sun is failing, the bleak wind is wailing, 12.
The wind's on the wold, 27.
The world is too much with us; late and soon, 113.
The year's at the spring, 127.
There was a crooked man, and he went a crooked mile, 35.
There was a jolly miller once, 42.
There was a man of Newington, 35.
There was a youth, a well-beloved youth, 144.
There was no song nor shout of joy, 196.
They told me, Heraclitus, they told me you were dead, 194.
This only grant me, that my means may lie, 56.
This world a-hunting is, 92.
Thistle and darnel and dock grew there, 67.
Thy beauty haunts me heart and soul, 178.
Tiger, tiger, burning bright, 120.
Time, you old gipsy man, 81.
To bed, to bed, 41.
To my true king I offered free from stain, 141.
Tom Pearse, Tom Pearse, lend me your gray mare, 18.
Twilight. Red in the west, 178.

Under the wide and starry sky, 92.

What is this life if, full of care, 55.
What pleasure have great princes, 82.
When cats run home and light is come, 67.

When fishes flew and forests walked, 119.
When I a verse shall make, 181.
When I was but thirteen or so, 181.
When icicles hang by the wall, 8.
When in the chronicle of wasted time, 188.
When tender ewes, brought home with evening sun, 51.
When the green woods laugh with the voice of joy, 131.
When the voices of children are heard on the green, 126.
When to the sessions of sweet silent thought, 195.
When we were building Skua Light, 116.
Whene'er I see soft hazel eyes, 106.
Where are you going, my pretty maid, 37.
Where is every piping lad, 49.
Where the pools are bright and deep, 45.
Who is Sylvia? what is she, 125.
Why, why repine, my pensive friend, 146.
Within a thick and spreading hawthorn bush, 116.


Ye flowery banks o' bonie Doon, 190.
Ye have been fresh and green, 198.
Ye Highlands and ye Lawlands, 72.
Yet if His Majesty, our sovereign lord, 104-

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