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INDEX OF FIRST LINES

Art thou poor, yet hast thou golden slumbers

As I was walking all alane

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

As it fell upon a day

A slumber did my spirit seal.

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As slow our ship her foamy track

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A sweet disorder in the dress

76

At the corner of Wood Street, when daylight appears

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At the mid hour of night, when stars are weeping, I fly

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Avenge, O Lord! thy slaughter'd Saints, whose bones
Awake, Aeolian lyre, awake

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Being your slave, what should I do but tend

7

Beneath these fruit-tree boughs that shed
Best and Brightest, come away.

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Bid me to live, and I will live

78

Blest pair of Sirens, pledges of Heaven's joy.

101

Blow, blow, thou winter wind

25

Bright Star! would I were steadfast as thou art

194

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.

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Doth then the world go thus, doth all thus move

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Fair Daffodils, we weep to see

Fair pledges of a fruitful tree

Farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing

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Fear no more the heat o' the sun

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I dream'd that as I wander'd by the way

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If aught of oaten stop or pastoral song
If doughty deeds my lady please

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I fear thy kisses, gentle maiden.

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If Thou survive my well-contented day.
If to be absent were to be

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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.

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I've heard them lilting at our ewe-milking.
I wander'd lonely as a cloud.

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Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Life! I know not what thou art

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164

Life of Life! Thy lips enkindle.

275

Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore.

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Much have I travell'd in the realms of gold.
Music, when soft voices die

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My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
My heart leaps up when I behold
My Love in her attire doth shew her wit

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My lute, be as thou wert when thou didst grow
My thoughts hold mortal strife

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My true-love hath my heart, and I have his

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No longer mourn for me when I am dead

Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note
Not, Celia, that I juster am

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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

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Of this fair volume which we World do name.
Oft in the stilly night

38

221

O if thou knew'st how thou thyself dost harm

14

O listen, listen, ladies gay

232

O lovers' eyes are sharp to see

193

O Mary, at thy window be

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O me! what eyes hath love put in my head.

23

O Mistress mine, where are you roaming
O my Luve's like a red, red rose

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Once did She hold the gorgeous East in fee
One more Unfortunate

207

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O talk not to me of a name great in story

170

Our bugles sang truce, for the night-cloud had lower'd

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O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being.
O World! O Life! O Time.

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Souls of Poets dead and gone

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

Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year's pleasant king

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Star that bringest home the bee

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Stern Daughter of the voice of God

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Surprized by joy-impatient as the wind

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Sweet, be not proud of those two eyes

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Take O take those lips away.

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Tax not the royal Saint with vain expense
Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind
Tell me where is Fancy bred.

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That time of year thou may'st in me behold
That which her slender waist confined
The curfew tolls the knell of parting day

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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.

The sun is warm, the sky is clear

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The World is too much with us; late and soon
The World's a bubble, and the Life of Man
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

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Thy hue, dear pledge, is pure and bright
Timely blossom, Infant fair

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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

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