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A Chieftain to the Highlands bound
A flock of sheep that leisurely pass by
A slumber did my spirit seal

A sweet disorder in the dress

A weary lot is thine, fair maid
A wet sheet and a flowing sea

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A widow bird sate mourning for her love
Absence, hear thou my protestation
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

As slow our ship her foamy track

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

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Being your slave, what should I do but tend

Behold her, single in the field

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

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Index to First Lines

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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Come away, come away, Death

Come live with me and be my Love

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Diaphenia like the daffadowndilly

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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

Fear no more the heat o' the sun

For ever, Fortune, wilt thou prove
Forget not yet the tried intent

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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

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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, loathéd Melancholy
Hence, vain deluding Joys

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I travell'd among unknown men

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I wander'd lonely as a cloud

I was thy neighbour once, thou rugged Pile

I wish I were where Helen lies.

If aught of oaten stop or pastoral song

If doughty deeds my lady please

If to be absent were to be

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If Thou survive my well-contented day

If women could be fair, and yet not fond

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I'm wearing awa', Jean

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In a drear-nighted December

In the downhill of life, when I find I'm declining

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In the sweet shire of Cardigan

It is a beauteous evening, calm and free

It is not Beauty I demand

It is not growing like a tree

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It was a lover and his lass

It was a summer evening.

I've heard them lilting at our ewe-milking

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Index to First Lines

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 shew 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

O Friend! I know not which way I must look
O if thou knew'st how thou thyself dost harm
O listen, listen, ladies gay

O lovers' eyes are sharp to see

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

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Of a' the airts the wind can blaw

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On a Poet's lips I slept

Of Nelson and the North .

Of this fair volume which we World do name

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On Linden, when the sun was low

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

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O never say that I was false of heart

saw ye bonnie Lesley

say what is that thing call'd Light

O snatch'd away in beauty's bloom

O talk not to me of a name great in story

O waly waly up the bank

what can ail thee, knight-at-arms

O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being

O World! O Life! O Time!

Of all the girls that are so smart

Index to First Lines

One word is too often profaned

Our bugles sang truce, for the night-cloud

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had lower'd

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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

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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, the year's pleasant king

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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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The forward youth that would appear

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The fountains mingle with the river
The glories of our blood and state

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The last and greatest Herald of Heaven's King

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The lovely lass o' Inverness

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The merchant, to secure his treasure

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The more we live, more brief appear

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