farewell to the shade
The sun is warm, the sky is clear
The sun upon the lake is low
The twentieth year is well-nigh past
The World is too much with us; late and soon
The World's a bubble, and the Life of Man
There be none of Beauty's daughters
There is a flower, the lesser Celandine
There is a garden in her face
There's not a joy the world can give like that it takes away
There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream
They that have power to hurt, and will do none
This is the month, and this the happy morn
This life, which seems so fair
Three years she grew in sun and shower
Thy braes were bonnie, Yarrow stream
Thy hue, dear pledge, is pure and bright
Timely blossom, Infant fair
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
Verse, a breeze 'mid blossoms straying
Victorious men of earth, no more
Waken, lords and ladies gay
Wee, sleekit, cow'rin', tim'rous beastie
Were I as base as is the lowly plain
We talk'd with open heart, and tongue
We walk'd along, while bright and red
We watch'd her breathing thro' the night
Whenas in silks my Julia goes
When Britain first at Heaven's command
When first the fiery-mantled Sun
When God at first made Man
When he who adores thee has left but the name
When icicles hang by the wall
When I consider how my light is spent
When I have borne in memory what has tamed
When I have fears that I may cease to be
When I have seen by Time's fell hand defaced
When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes
When in the chronicle of wasted time
When lovely woman stoops to folly
When Love with unconfined wings
When maidens such as Hester die
When Music, heavenly maid, was young
When Ruth was left half desolate
When the lamp is shatter'd
When the sheep are in the fauld, and the kye at hame
When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
When we two parted
Where art thou, my beloved Son
Where shall the lover rest
Where the remote Bermudas ride
While that the sun with his beams hot
Whoe'er she be
Why art thou silent?
The sun is warm, the sky is clear
The sun upon the lake is low
The twentieth year is well-nigh past
The World is too much with us; late and soon
The World's a bubble, and the Life of Man
There be none of Beauty's daughters
There is a flower, the lesser Celandine
There is a garden in her face
There's not a joy the world can give like that it takes away
There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream
They that have power to hurt, and will do none
This is the month, and this the happy morn
This life, which seems so fair
Three years she grew in sun and shower
Thy braes were bonnie, Yarrow stream
Thy hue, dear pledge, is pure and bright
Timely blossom, Infant fair
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
Verse, a breeze 'mid blossoms straying
Victorious men of earth, no more
Waken, lords and ladies gay
Wee, sleekit, cow'rin', tim'rous beastie
Were I as base as is the lowly plain
We talk'd with open heart, and tongue
We walk'd along, while bright and red
We watch'd her breathing thro' the night
Whenas in silks my Julia goes
When Britain first at Heaven's command
When first the fiery-mantled Sun
When God at first made Man
When he who adores thee has left but the name
When icicles hang by the wall
When I consider how my light is spent
When I have borne in memory what has tamed
When I have fears that I may cease to be
When I have seen by Time's fell hand defaced
When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes
When in the chronicle of wasted time
When lovely woman stoops to folly
When Love with unconfined wings
When maidens such as Hester die
When Music, heavenly maid, was young
When Ruth was left half desolate
When the lamp is shatter'd
When the sheep are in the fauld, and the kye at hame
When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
When we two parted
Where art thou, my beloved Son
Where shall the lover rest
Where the remote Bermudas ride
While that the sun with his beams hot
Whoe'er she be
Why art thou silent?
Golden Treasury
Poem 129.
The _Royal George_, of 108 guns, whilst undergoing a partial careening
in Portsmouth Harbour, was overset about 10 A. M. Aug. 29, 1782. The
total loss was believed to be near 1000 souls.
Poem 131.
A little masterpiece in a very difficult style: Catullus himself could
hardly have bettered it. In grace, tenderness, simplicity, and humour it
is worthy of the Ancients; and even more so, from the completeness and
unity of the picture presented.
Poem 136.
Perhaps no writer who has given such strong proofs of the poetic nature
has left less satisfactory poetry than Thomson. Yet he touched little
which he did not beautify: and this song, with "Rule Britannia" and a
few others, must make us regret that he did not more seriously apply
himself to lyrical writing.
Poem 140.
_Aeolian lyre_: the Greeks ascribed the origin of their Lyrical Poetry
to the colonies of Aeolis in Asia Minor.
_Thracia's hills_ supposed a favourite resort of Mars.
_Feather'd king_ the Eagle of Jupiter, admirably described by Pindar in
a passage here imitated by Gray.
_Idalia_: in Cyprus, where _Cytherea_ (Venus) was especially worshipped.
_Hyperion_: the Sun. St. 6-8 allude to the Poets of the Islands and
Mainland of Greece, to those of Rome and of England.
_Theban Eagle_: Pindar.
Poem 141.
_chaste-eyed Queen_: Diana.
Poem 142.
_Attic warbler_: the nightingale.
Poem 144.
_sleekit_: sleek; _bickering brattle_: flittering flight; _laith_: loth;
_pattle_: ploughstaff; _whyles_: at times; _a daimen icker_: a corn-ear
now and then; _thrave_: shock; _lave_: rest; _foggage_: aftergrass;
_snell_: biting; _but hald_: without dwelling-place; _thole_: bear;
_cranreuch_: hoarfrost; _thy lane_: alone; _a-gley_: off the right
line, awry.
Poem 147.
Perhaps the noblest stanzas in our language.
Poem 148.
_stoure_: dust-storm; _braw_: smart.
Poem 149.
_scaith_: hurt; _tent_: guard; _steer_: molest.
Poem 151.
_drumlie_: muddy; _birk_: birch.
Poem 152.
_greet_: cry; _daurna_: dare not. --There can hardly exist a poem more
truly tragic in the highest sense than this: nor, except Sappho, has any
Poetess known to the Editor equalled it in excellence.
Poem 153.
_fou_: merry with drink; _coost_: carried; _unco skeigh_: very proud;
_gart_: forced; _abeigh_: aside; _Ailsa craig_: a rock in the Firth of
Clyde; _grat his een bleert_: cried till his eyes were bleared;
_lowpin_: leaping; _linn_: waterfall; _sair_: sore; _smoor'd_:
smothered; _crouse and canty_: blythe and gay.
Poem 154.
Burns justly named this "one of the most beautiful songs in the Scots or
any other language. " One verse, interpolated by Beattie, is here
omitted:--it contains two good lines, but is quite out of harmony with
the original poem.
_Bigonet_: little cap, probably altered from _beguinette_; _thraw_:
twist; _caller_: fresh.
Poem 155.
_airts_: quarters; _row_: roll; _shaw_: small wood in a hollow, spinney;
_knowes_: knolls.
Poem 156.
_jo_: sweetheart; _brent_: smooth; _pow_: head.
Poem 157.
_leal_: faithful; _fain_: happy.
Poem 158.
Henry VI. founded Eton.
Poem 161.
The Editor knows no Sonnet more remarkable than this, which, with 162,
records Cowper's gratitude to the Lady whose affectionate care for many
years gave what sweetness he could enjoy to a life radically wretched.
Petrarch's sonnets have a more ethereal grace and a more perfect finish;
Shakespeare's more passion; Milton's stand supreme in stateliness,
Wordsworth's in depth and delicacy. But Cowper's unites with an
exquisiteness in the turn of thought which the ancients would have
called Irony, an intensity of pathetic tenderness peculiar to his loving
and ingenuous nature. There is much mannerism, much that is unimportant
or of now exhausted interest in his poems: but where he is great, it is
with that elementary greatness which rests on the most universal human
feelings. Cowper is our highest master in simple pathos.
Poem 163.
_fancied green_: cherished garden.
Poem 164.
Nothing except his surname appears recoverable with regard to the author
of this truly noble poem: It should be noted as exhibiting a rare
excellence,--the climax of simple sublimity.
It is a lesson of high instructiveness to examine the essential
qualities which give first-rate poetical rank to lyrics such as
"To-morrow" or "Sally in our Alley," when compared with poems written
(if the phrase may be allowed) in keys so different as the subtle
sweetness of Shelley, the grandeur of Gray and Milton, or the delightful
Pastoralism of the Elizabethan verse. Intelligent readers will gain
hence a clear understanding of the vast imaginative, range of
Poetry;--through what wide oscillations the mind and the taste of a
nation may pass;--how many are the roads which Truth and Nature open to
Excellence.
Poem 166.
_stout Cortez_: History requires here Balboa: (A. T. ) It may be noticed,
that to find in Chapman's Homer the "pure serene" of the original, the
reader must bring with him the imagination of the youthful poet;--he
must be "a Greek himself," as Shelley finely said of Keats.
Poem 169.
The most tender and true of Byron's smaller poems.
Poem 170.
This poem, with 236, exemplifies the peculiar skill with which Scott
employs proper names: nor is there a surer sign of high poetical genius.
Poem 191.
The Editor in this and in other instances has risked the addition (or
the change) of a Title, that the aim of the verses following may be
grasped more clearly and immediately.
Poem 198.
_Nature's Eremite_: refers to the fable of the Wandering Jew. --This
beautiful sonnet was the last word of a poet deserving the title
"marvellous boy" in a much higher sense than Chatterton. If the
fulfilment may ever safely be prophesied from the promise, England
appears to have lost in Keats one whose gifts in Poetry have rarely been
surpassed. Shakespeare, Milton, and Wordsworth, had their lives been
closed at twenty-five, would (so far as we know) have left poems of less
excellence and hope than the youth who, from the petty school and the
London surgery, passed at once to a place with them of "high collateral
glory. "
Poem 201.
It is impossible not to regret that Moore has written so little in this
sweet and genuinely national style.
Poem 202.
A masterly example of Byron's command of strong thought and close
reasoning in verse:--as the next is equally characteristic of Shelley's
wayward intensity, and 204 of the dramatic power, the vital
identification of the poet with other times and characters, in which
Scott is second only to Shakespeare.
Poem 209.
Bonnivard, a Genevese, was imprisoned by the Duke of Savoy in Chillon on
the lake of Geneva for his courageous defence of his country against the
tyranny with which Piedmont threatened it during the first half of the
seventeenth century. This noble Sonnet is worthy to stand near Milton's
on the Vaudois massacre.
Poem 210.
Switzerland was usurped by the French under Napoleon in 1800: Venice in
1797 (211).
Poem 215.
This battle was fought Dec. 2, 1800, between the Austrians under
Archduke John and the French under Moreau, in a forest near Munich.
_Hohen Linden_ means _High Limetrees_.
Poem 218.
After the capture of Madrid by Napoleon, Sir J. Moore retreated before
Soult and Ney to Corunna, and was killed whilst covering the embarcation
of his troops. His tomb, built by Ney, bears this inscription--"John
Moore, leader of the English armies, slain in battle, 1809. "
Poem 229.
The Mermaid was the club-house of Shakespeare, Ben Jonson, and other
choice spirits of that age.
Poem 230.
_Maisie_: Mary. Scott has given us nothing more complete and lovely than
this little song, which unites simplicity and dramatic power to a
wild-wood music of the rarest quality. No moral is drawn, far less any
conscious analysis of feeling attempted:--the pathetic meaning is left
to be suggested by the mere presentiment of the situation. Inexperienced
critics have often named this, which may be called the Homeric manner,
superficial, from its apparent simple facility: but first-rate
excellence in it (as shown here, in 196, 156, and 129) is in truth one
of the least common triumphs of Poetry. --This style should be compared
with what is not less perfect in its way, the searching out of inner
feeling, the expression of hidden meanings, the revelation of the heart
of Nature and of the Soul within the Soul,--the analytical method, in
short,--most completely represented by Wordsworth and by Shelley.
Poem 234.
_correi_: covert on a hillside; _Cumber_: trouble.
Poem 235.
Two intermediate stanzas have been here omitted. They are very
ingenious, but, of all poetical qualities, ingenuity is least in
accordance with pathos.
Poem 243.
This poem has an exaltation and a glory, joined with an exquisiteness of
expression, which place it in the highest rank amongst the many
masterpieces of its illustrious Author.
Poem 252.
_interlunar swoon_: interval of the Moon's invisibility.
Poem 256.
_Calpe_: Gibraltar; _Lofoden_: the Maelstrom whirlpool off the N. -W.
coast of Norway.
Poem 257.
This lovely poem refers here and there to a ballad by Hamilton on the
subject better treated in 127 and 128.
Poem 268.
_Arcturi_: seemingly used for _northern stars_.
_And wild roses_, etc. Our language has no line modulated with more
subtle sweetness. A good poet _might_ have written _And roses
wild_:--yet this slight change would disenchant the verse of its peculiar
beauty.
Poem 270.
_Ceres' daughter_: Proserpine; _God of Torment_: Pluto.
Poem 271.
This impassioned address expresses Shelley's most rapt imaginations, and
is the direct modern representative of the feeling which led the Greeks
to the worship of Nature.
Poem 274.
The leading idea of this beautiful description of a day's landscape in
Italy is expressed with an obscurity not unfrequent with its author. It
appears to be,--On the voyage of life are many moments of pleasure,
given by the sight of Nature, who has power to heal even the worldliness
and the uncharity of man.
_Amphitrite_ was daughter to Ocean.
_Sun-girt City_: It is difficult not to believe that the correct reading
is _Seagirt_. Many of Shelley's poems appear to have been printed in
England during his residence abroad: others were printed from his
manuscripts after his death. Hence probably the text of no English Poet
after 1660 contains so many errors. See the Note on No. 9.
Poem 275.
_Maenad_: a frenzied Nymph, attendant on Dionysus in the Greek
mythology.
_The sea-blooms_, etc. : Plants under water sympathise with the seasons
of the laud, and hence with the winds which affect them.
Poem 276.
Written soon after the death, by shipwreck, of Wordsworth's brother
John. This Poem should be compared with Shelley's following it. Each is
the most complete expression of the innermost spirit of his art given by
these great Poets:--of that Idea which, as in the case of the true
Painter (to quote the words of Reynolds), "subsists only in the mind:
The sight never beheld it, nor has the hand expressed it; it is an idea
residing in the breast of the artist, which he is always labouring to
impart, and which he dies at last without imparting. "
Poem 278.
Proteus represented the everlasting changes united with ever-recurrent
sameness, of the Sea.
Poem 279.
_the Royal Saint_: Henry VI.
INDEX OF WRITERS.
WITH DATES OF BIRTH AND DEATH.
ALEXANDER, William (1580-1640) 22
BACON, Francis (1561-1626) 57
BARBAULD, Anna Laetitia (1743-1825) 165
BARNEFIELD, Richard (16th Century) 34
BEAUMONT, Francis (1586-1616) 67
BURNS, Robert (1759-1796) 125, 132, 139, 144, 148, 149, 150, 151, 153,
155, 156
BYRON, George Gordon Noel (1788-1824) 169, 171, 173 190, 202; 209, 222,
232
CAMPBELL, Thomas (1777-1844) 181, 183, 187, 197, 206, 207, 215, 256,
262, 267, 283
CAREW, Thomas (1589-1639) 87
CAREY, Henry (-- -1743) 131
CIBBER, Colley (1671-1757) 119
COLERIDGE, Hartley (1796-1849) 175
COLERIDGE, Samuel Taylor (1772-1834) 168, 280
COLLINS, William (1720-1756) 124, 141, 146
COLLINS, --- (18th Century) 164
CONSTABLE, Henry (156-? -1604? ) 15
COWLEY, Abraham (1618-1667) 102
COWPER, William (1731-1800) 129, 134, 143, 160, 161, 162
CRASHAW, Richard (1615? -1652) 79
CUNNINGHAM, Allan (1784-1842) 205
DANIEL, Samuel (1562-1619) 35
DEKKER, Thomas (-- -1638? ) 54
DRAYTON, Michael (1563-1631) 37
DRUMMOND, William (1585-1649) 2, 38, 43, 55, 58, 59, 61
DRYDEN, John (1631-1700) 63, 116
ELLIOTT, Jane (18th Century) 126
FLETCHER, John (1576-1625) 104
GAY, John (1688-1732) 130
GOLDSMITH, Oliver (1728-1774) 138
GRAHAM, --- (1735-1797) 133
GRAY, Thomas (1716-1771) 117, 120, 123, 140, 142, 147, 158, 159
HERBERT, George (1593-1632) 74
HERRICK, Robert (1591-1674? ) 82, 88, 92, 93, 96, 109, 110
HEYWOOD, Thomas (-- -1649? ) 52
HOOD, Thomas (1798-1845) 224, 231, 235
JONSON, Ben (1574-1637) 73, 78, 90
KEATS, John (1795-1821) 166, 167, 191, 193, 198, 229, 244, 255, 270, 284
LAMB, Charles (1775-1835) 220, 233, 237
LINDSAY, Anne (1750-1825) 152
LODGE, Thomas (1556-1625) 16
LOGAN, John (1748-1788) 127
LOVELACE, Richard (1618-1658) 83, 99, 100
LYLYE, John (1554-1600) 51
MARLOWE, Christopher (1562-1593) 5
MARVELL, Andrew (1620-1678) 65, 111, 114
MICKLE, William Julius (1734-1788) 154
MILTON, John (1608-1674) 62, 64, 66, 70, 71, 76, 77, 85, 112, 113, 115
MOORE, Thomas (1780-1852) 185, 201, 217, 221, 225
NAIRN, Carolina (1766-1845) 157
NASH, Thomas (1567-1601? ) 1
PHILIPS, Ambrose (1671-1749) 121
POPE, Alexander (1688-1744) 118
PRIOR, Matthew (1664-1721) 137
ROGERS, Samuel (1762-1855) 135, 145
SCOTT, Walter (1771-1832) 105, 170, 182, 186, 192, 194, 196, 204, 230,
234, 236, 239, 263
SEDLEY, Charles (1639-1701) 81, 98
SEWELL, George (-- -1726) 163
SHAKESPEARE, William (1564-1616) 3, 4, 6, 7, 8, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 18,
19, 20, 23, 24, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 36, 39, 42, 44, 45, 46, 48, 49
50, 56, 60
SHELLEY, Percy Bysshe (1792-1822) 172, 176, 184, 188, 195, 203, 226,
227, 241, 246, 252, 259, 260, 264, 265, 268, 271, 274, 275, 277, 285,
288
SHIRLEY, James (1596-1666) 68, 69
SIDNEY, Philip (1554-1586) 24
SOUTHEY, Robert (1774-1843) 216, 228
SPENSER, Edmund (1553-1598/9) 53
SUCKLING, John (1608/9-1641) 101
SYLVESTER, Joshua (1563-1618) 25
THOMSON, James (1700-1748) 122, 136
VAUGHAN, Henry (1621-1695) 75
VERE, Edward (1534-1604) 41
WALLER, Edmund (1605-1687) 89, 95
WEBSTER, John (-- -1638? ) 47
WITHER, George (1588-1667) 103
WOLFE, Charles (1791-1823) 218
WORDSWORTH, William (1770-1850) 174, 177, 178, 179, 180, 189, 200, 208,
210, 211, 212, 213, 214, 219, 223, 238, 240, 242, 243, 245, 247, 248,
249, 250, 251, 253, 254, 257, 258, 261, 266, 269, 272, 273, 276, 278,
279, 281, 282, 286, 287
WOTTON, Henry (1568-1639) 72, 84
WYAT, Thomas (1503-1542) 21, 33
UNKNOWN: 9, 17, 40, 80, 86, 91, 94, 97, 106, 107, 108, 128
INDEX OF FIRST LINES.
Absence, hear thou my protestation
A Chieftain to the Highlands bound
A flock of sheep that leisurely pass by
Ah, Chloris! could I now but sit
Ah! County Guy, the hour is nigh
All in the Downs the fleet was moor'd
All thoughts, all passions, all delights
And are ye sure the news is true?
And is this Yarrow? --This the Stream
And thou art dead, as young and fair
And wilt thou leave me thus?
Ariel to Miranda:--Take
Art thou pale for weariness
Art thou poor, yet hast thou golden slumbers?
As it fell upon a day
As I was walking all alane
A slumber did my spirit seal
As slow our ship her foamy track
A sweet disorder in the dress
At the corner of Wood Street, when daylight appears
At the mid hour of night, when stars are weeping, I fly
Avenge, O Lord! Thy slaughter'd Saints, whose bones
Awake, Aeolian lyre, awake
Awake, awake, my Lyre!
A weary lot is thine, fair maid
A wet sheet and a flowing sea
A widow bird sate mourning for her Love
Bards of Passion and of Mirth
Beauty sat bathing by a spring
Behold her, single in the field
Being your slave, what should I do but tend
Beneath these fruit-tree boughs that shed
Best and brightest, come away
Bid me to live, and I will live
Blest pair of Sirens, pledges of Heaven's joy
Blow, blow, thou winter wind
Bright Star! would I were steadfast as thou art
Call for the robin-redbreast and the wren
Calm was the day, and through the trembling air
Captain, or Colonel, or Knight in Arms
Care-charmer Sleep, son of the sable Night
Come away, come away, death
Come live with me and be my Love
Crabbed Age and Youth
Cupid and my Campaspe play'd
Cyriack, whose grandsire, on the royal bench
Daughter of Jove, relentless power
Daughter to that good earl, once President
Degenerate Douglas! O the unworthy lord!
Diaphenia like the daffadowndilly
Doth then the world go thus, doth all thus move?
Down in yon garden sweet and gay
Drink to me only with thine eyes
Duncan Gray cam here to woo
Earl March look'd on his dying child
Earth has not anything to show more fair
Eternal Spirit of the chainless Mind!
Ethereal Minstrel! Pilgrim of the sky!
Ever let the Fancy roam
Fair Daffodils, we weep to see
Fair pledges of a fruitful tree
Farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing
Fear no more the heat o' the sun
For ever, Fortune, wilt thou prove
Forget not yet the tried intent
Four Seasons fill the measure of the year
From Harmony, from heavenly Harmony
From Stirling Castle we had seen
Full fathom five thy father lies
Gather ye rose-buds while ye may
Gem of the crimson-colour'd Even
Go fetch to me a pint o' wine
Go, lovely Rose!
Hail to thee, blithe Spirit!
Happy the man, whose wish and care
Happy those early days, when I
He is gone on the mountain
He that loves a rosy cheek
Hence, all you vain delights
Hence, loathed Melancholy
Hence, vain deluding Joys
How delicious is the winning
How happy is he born and taught
How like a winter hath my absence been
How sleep the Brave, who sink to rest
How sweet the answer Echo makes
How vainly men themselves amaze
I am monarch of all I survey
I arise from dreams of thee
I dream'd that as I wander'd by the way
If aught of oaten stop or pastoral song
If doughty deeds my lady please
I fear thy kisses, gentle maiden
If Thou survive my well-contented day
If to be absent were to be
If women could be fair, and yet not fond
I have had playmates, I have had companions
I heard a thousand blended notes
I met a traveller from an antique land
I'm wearing awa', Jean
In a drear-nighted December
In the downhill of life, when I find I'm declining
In the sweet shire of Cardigan
I remember, I remember
I saw where in the shroud did lurk
It is a beauteous evening, calm and free
It is not Beauty I demand
It is not growing like a tree
I travell'd among unknown men
It was a lover and his lass
It was a summer evening
I've heard them lilting at our ewe-milking
I wander'd lonely as a cloud
I was thy neighbour once, thou rugged Pile!
I wish I were where Helen lies
John Anderson, my jo, John
Lawrence, of virtuous father virtuous son
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Life! I know not what thou art
Life of Life! thy lips enkindle
Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore
Like to the clear in highest sphere
Love not me for comely grace
Lo! where the rosy-bosom'd Hours
Many a green isle needs must be
Mary! I want a lyre with other strings
Milton! thou shouldst be living at this hour
Mine be a cot beside the hill
Mortality, behold and fear
Most sweet it is with unuplifted eyes
Much have I travell'd in the realms of gold
Music, when soft voices die
My days among the Dead are past
My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
My heart leaps up when I behold
My Love in her attire doth show her wit
My lute, be as thou wert when thou didst grow
My thoughts hold mortal strife
My true-love hath my heart, and I have his
No longer mourn for me when I am dead
Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note
Not, Celia, that I juster am
Now the golden Morn aloft
Now the last day of many days
O blithe new-comer! I have heard
O Brignall banks are wild and fair
Of all the girls that are so smart
Of a' the airts the wind can blaw
Of Nelson and the North
O Friend! I know not which way I must look
Of this fair volume which we World do name
Oft in the stilly night
O if thou knew'st how thou thyself dost harm
Oh, lovers' eyes are sharp to see
Oh, snatch'd away in beauty's bloom!
O listen, listen, ladies gay!
O Mary, at thy window be
O me! what eyes hath love put in my head
O mistress mine, where are you roaming?
O my Luve's like a red, red rose
On a day, alack the day!
On a Poet's lips I slept
Once did She hold the gorgeous East in fee
One more Unfortunate
One word is too often profaned
O never say that I was false of heart
On Linden, when the sun was low
O saw ye bonnie Lesley
O say what is that thing call'd Light
O talk not to me of a name great in story
Our bugles sang truce, for the night-cloud had lower'd
Over the mountains
O waly waly up the bank
O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms
O Wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being
O World! O Life! O Time!
Pack, clouds, away, and welcome day
Phoebus, arise!
Pibroch of Donuil Dhu
Poor Soul, the centre of my sinful earth
Proud Maisie is in the wood
Queen and Huntress, chaste and fair
Rarely, rarely, comest thou
Ruin seize thee, ruthless King!
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Shall I, wasting in despair
She dwelt among the untrodden ways
She is not fair to outward view
She walks in beauty, like the night
She was a phantom of delight
Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea
Since there's no help, come let us kiss and part
Sleep on, and dream of Heaven awhile
Souls of Poets dead and gone
Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year's pleasant king
Star that bringest home the bee
Stern Daughter of the voice of God!
Surprised by joy--impatient as the wind
Sweet, be not proud of those two eyes
Sweet Highland Girl, a very shower
Sweet stream, that winds through yonder glade
Swiftly walk over the western wave
Take, O take those lips away
Tax not the royal Saint with vain expense
Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind
Tell me where is Fancy bred
That time of year thou may'st in me behold
That which her slender waist confined
The curfew tolls the knell of parting day
The forward youth that would appear
The fountains mingle with the river
The glories of our blood and state
The last and greatest Herald of Heaven's King
The lovely lass o' Inverness
The merchant, to secure his treasure
The more we live, more brief appear
The poplars are fell'd!
farewell to the shade
The sun is warm, the sky is clear
The sun upon the lake is low
The twentieth year is well-nigh past
The World is too much with us; late and soon
The World's a bubble, and the Life of Man
There be none of Beauty's daughters
There is a flower, the lesser Celandine
There is a garden in her face
There's not a joy the world can give like that it takes away
There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream
They that have power to hurt, and will do none
This is the month, and this the happy morn
This life, which seems so fair
Three years she grew in sun and shower
Thy braes were bonnie, Yarrow stream
Thy hue, dear pledge, is pure and bright
Timely blossom, Infant fair
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
Verse, a breeze 'mid blossoms straying
Victorious men of earth, no more
Waken, lords and ladies gay
Wee, sleekit, cow'rin', tim'rous beastie
Were I as base as is the lowly plain
We talk'd with open heart, and tongue
We walk'd along, while bright and red
We watch'd her breathing thro' the night
Whenas in silks my Julia goes
When Britain first at Heaven's command
When first the fiery-mantled Sun
When God at first made Man
When he who adores thee has left but the name
When icicles hang by the wall
When I consider how my light is spent
When I have borne in memory what has tamed
When I have fears that I may cease to be
When I have seen by Time's fell hand defaced
When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes
When in the chronicle of wasted time
When lovely woman stoops to folly
When Love with unconfined wings
When maidens such as Hester die
When Music, heavenly maid, was young
When Ruth was left half desolate
When the lamp is shatter'd
When the sheep are in the fauld, and the kye at hame
When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
When we two parted
Where art thou, my beloved Son
Where shall the lover rest
Where the remote Bermudas ride
While that the sun with his beams hot
Whoe'er she be
Why art thou silent? Is thy love a plant
Why, Damon, with the forward day
Why so pale and wan, fond lover?
Why weep ye by the tide, ladie?
With little here to do or see
Ye banks and braes and streams around
Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon
Ye distant spires, ye antique towers
Ye Mariners of England
Yes, there is holy pleasure in thine eye!
Yet once more, O ye laurels, and once more
You meaner beauties of the night
Corrections to Collins edition:
Poem 143--"W. COUPER" to "W. COWPER"
Poem 274--"like a green see" to "like a green sea"
Poem 280--"woful Ere" to "woeful Ere"
Palgrave's Notes--Poem 62: "mythe" to "myth"
Palgrave's Notes--Poem 85: "Parliamant" to "Parliament"
Palgrave's Notes--Poem 140: "Acolian lyre" to "Aeolian lyre"
Palgrave's Notes--Poem 140: "were Cytheria" to "where Cytheria"
Palgrave's Notes--Poem 275: "Geeek" to "Greek"
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