| | Poem Title | First Lines | Period | # Lines | # Reads |
| 1: | 1827; Or, The Poet's Last Poem. | Ye Bards in all your thousand dens, | | 172 | 230 |
| 2: | A Fragment | Oh, Youth! could dark futurity reveal | | 48 | 210 |
| 3: | A Night-Storm. | Let this rough fragment lend its mossy seat; | | 71 | 253 |
| 4: | A Sketch From Life. | She sat in beauty, like some form of nymph | | 22 | 254 |
| 5: | Address To Albion. | To thee, O Albion! be the tribute paid | | 32 | 206 |
| 6: | Anacreontic. "The Wisest Men Are Fools In Wine." | The wisest men are fools in wine, | | 16 | 265 |
| 7: | Bertram And Anna. | Stranger! if thou e'er did'st love, | | 140 | 194 |
| 8: | Black Eyes And Blue. | Blue eyes and jet Fell out one morn, | | 24 | 234 |
| 9: | Burlesque Sonnet. To A Bee. | Sweet Insect! that on two small wings doth fly, | | 14 | 186 |
| 10: | Constancy. To----. | Dearest love! when thy God shall recall thee, | | 20 | 229 |
| 11: | Content. | In some lone hamlet it were better far | | 28 | 248 |
| 12: | Elegy On The Death Of Abraham Goldsmid, Esq. | When stern Misfortune, monitress severe! | | 100 | 235 |
| 13: | Epigram. Auri Sacra Fames. | I knew a being once, his peaked head | | 30 | 220 |
| 14: | Epistle To A Friend. | Give me the wreath of friendship true, | | 32 | 188 |
| 15: | Epitaph. On Matilda. | Sacred to Pity! is upraised this stone, | | 34 | 227 |
| 16: | Henry And Eliza. | O'er the wide heath now moon-tide horrors hung, | | 40 | 198 |
| 17: | Here In Our Fairy Bowers We Dwell. A Glee. | Here, in our fairy bowers, we dwell, | | 13 | 189 |
| 18: | Hymn. | Sacred, and heart-deep be the sound | | 18 | 227 |
| 19: | Impromptu, To Oriana. On Attending With Her, As Sponsors, At A Christening | Lady! who didst--with angel-look and smile, | | 12 | 281 |
| 20: | Invocation To Sleep. | Come, gentle sleep! thou soft restorer, come, | | 16 | 205 |
| 21: | Lines Suggested By The Death Of The Princess Charlotte. | Genius of England! wherefore to the earth | | 107 | 196 |
| 22: | Lines Written In A Copy Of The Poem On Princess Charlotte. | Madam! when sorrowing o'er the virtuous dead, | | 10 | 193 |
| 23: | Lines Written In Hornsey Wood | Oh! ye, who pine, in London smoke immured, | | 88 | 222 |
| 24: | Lines Written On The Sixth Of September. | Ill-fated hour! oft as thy annual reign | | 22 | 216 |
| 25: | Lines, Delivered After The Representation Of A Play At A Young Ladies' Boarding School. | When first the infant bird attempts to fly, | | 20 | 184 |
| 26: | Lines, To The Memory Of A Lady. | Bring the sad cypress wreath to grace the tomb, | | 16 | 207 |
| 27: | Lines, Written On Seeing The Children Of The Naval Asylum.[1] | Sons of Renown! ye heirs of matchless fame, | | 20 | 202 |
| 28: | Lines, Written On The Sixth Of September. | Ill-Fated hour! oft as thy annual reign | | 22 | 187 |
| 29: | Love. | Love!--what is love? a mere machine, a spring | | 28 | 253 |
| 30: | Mary. | How oft have I seen her upon the sea-shore, | | 36 | 201 |
| 31: | Mature Reflections. | O Love! divinest dream of youth, | | 16 | 237 |
| 32: | Mister Punch. (A Hasty Sketch.) | Who stops the Minister of State, | | 89 | 238 |
| 33: | On A Delightful Drawing In My Album, | Welcome, my pretty Neddy--welcome too | | 12 | 225 |
| 34: | On A Spirited Portrait In My Album, | Who in this sketchey wonder does not trace | | 16 | 212 |
| 35: | On Reading The Poem Of "Paris." By The Rev George Croly, A.M. | By the trim taper, and the blazing hearth, | | 41 | 176 |
| 36: | On The Beautiful Portrait Of Mrs. Foreman, As Pandora. | Oh! had'st thou, Jove! with adamantine locks | | 24 | 211 |
| 37: | On The Death Of Dr. Abel,[1] | Another awful warning voice of death | | 34 | 235 |
| 38: | On The Death Of General Sir Ralph Abercrombie. | Mute, memory stands, at valor's awful shrine, | | 16 | 195 |
| 39: | On The Death Of Lord Nelson. | Swift through the land while Fame transported flies, | | 20 | 192 |
| 40: | On The Death Of Nelson. | Swift through the land while Fame transported flies, | | 20 | 205 |
| 41: | On The Portrait Of The Son Of J.G. Lambton, Esq., M.P. By Sir Thomas Lawrence, P.R.A. | Beautiful Boy--thy heavenward thoughts | | 28 | 205 |
| 42: | On The Rupture Of The Thames' Tunnel, | Every poor Quidnunc now condemns | 1827 | 47 | 215 |
| 43: | Poems. | Tis sweet in boyhood's visionary mood, | | 67 | 217 |
| 44: | Prologue, To Public Readings At A Young Gentlemen's Academy. | Once more we venture here, to prove our worth, | | 68 | 188 |
| 45: | Prometheus. | What sovereign good shall satiate man's desires, | | 54 | 229 |
| 46: | Reflections Of A Poet, On Going To A Great Dinner. | Great epoch in the history of bards! | | 40 | 218 |
| 47: | Retaliation. | Love, Cupid, Gallantry, whate'er | | 52 | 193 |
| 48: | Rosa's Grave. | Oh! lay me where my Rosa lies, | | 12 | 216 |
| 49: | Sent For The Album Of The Rev. G---- C----, | Dear Sir, you remember, when Herod of Jewry | | 8 | 203 |
| 50: | Shakspeare. | While o'er this pageant of sublunar things | | 76 | 200 |
| 51: | Sheridan. | Embalm'd in fame, and sacred from decay, | | 128 | 195 |
| 52: | Song | Oh! never will I leave my love, | | 12 | 210 |
| 53: | Song. The Recal Of The Hero. | When Discord blew her fell alarm | | 16 | 206 |
| 54: | Sonnet | When the rough storm roars round the peasant's cot, | | 14 | 190 |
| 55: | Sonnet To Charity. | Oh! best belov'd of heaven, on earth bestow'd | | 14 | 186 |
| 56: | Sonnet To Music. | Hail! Heavenly Maid, my pensive mind, | | 14 | 179 |
| 57: | Sonnet To----, On Her Recovery From Illness. | Fair flower! that fall'n beneath the angry blast, | | 14 | 200 |
| 58: | Sonnet. | When the rough storm roars round the peasant's cot, | | 14 | 202 |
| 59: | Sonnet. | Ye fates! who sternly point on sorrow's chart | | 14 | 203 |
| 60: | Sonnet. In The Manner Of The Moderns. | Meek Maid! that sitting on yon lofty tower, | | 14 | 189 |
| 61: | Sonnet. Morning. | Light as the breeze that hails the infant morn | | 14 | 214 |
| 62: | Sonnet. Night. | Now when dun Night her shadowy veil has spread, | | 14 | 221 |
| 63: | Sonnet. On Seeing A Young Lady, I Had Previously Known, Confined In A Madhouse. | Sweet wreck of loveliness! alas, how soon | | 14 | 194 |
| 64: | Sonnet. On The Death Of Mrs. Charlotte Smith. | Sweet songstress! whom the melancholy Muse | | 14 | 197 |
| 65: | Sonnet. On The Death Of Toussaint L'Ouverture. | His weary warfare done, his woes forgot, | | 14 | 195 |
| 66: | Sonnet. The Beggar. | Of late I saw him on his staff reclined, | | 14 | 205 |
| 67: | Sonnet. To ............ | Thou bud of early promise, may the rose | | 14 | 180 |
| 68: | Sonnet. To ............ On Her Recovery From Illness. | Fair flower! that fall'n beneath the angry blast, | | 14 | 203 |
| 69: | Sonnet. To A Lyre. | Friend of the lonely hour, from thy lov'd strain | | 14 | 199 |
| 70: | Sonnet. To Charity. | O! best-beloved of Heaven, on earth bestow'd, | | 14 | 195 |
| 71: | Sonnet. To Faith. | Hail! holy FAITH, on life's wide ocean toss'd, | | 14 | 217 |
| 72: | Sonnet. To Hope. | How droops the wretch whom adverse fates pursue, | | 14 | 196 |
| 73: | Sonnet. To Lydia, On Her Birth-Day. | Bless'd be the hour that gave my LYDIA birth, | | 14 | 192 |
| 74: | Sonnet. To Melancholy. | To thy unhappy courts a lonely guest | | 14 | 180 |
| 75: | Sonnet. To Peace. | Come long-lost blessing! heaven-lov'd seraph, haste, | | 14 | 193 |
| 76: | Stanzas, Written Impromtu On The Late Peace. | Why, there's Peace, Jack, come damme let's push round the grog, | | 24 | 197 |
| 77: | Stanzas. | Say, why is the stern eye averted with scorn | | 24 | 220 |
| 78: | Sunday. | Come, thou blessed day of rest! | | 23 | 207 |
| 79: | Taking Orders. A Tale, Founded On Fact. | A parson once--and poorer he | | 57 | 229 |
| 80: | The Blue-Eyed Maid. | Sweet are the hours when roseate spring | | 16 | 222 |
| 81: | The Chain-Pier, Brighton; A Sketch. | Hail, lovely morn! and thou, all-beauteous sea! | | 108 | 220 |
| 82: | The Complaint | Ah! this wild desolated spot, | | 44 | 210 |
| 83: | The Gipsy's Home. A Glee. | We, who the wide world make our home; | | 12 | 218 |
| 84: | The Grave Of Dibdin. | Lives there who, with unhallow'd hand, would tear, | | 78 | 215 |
| 85: | The Heliotrope. | There is a flower, whose modest eye | | 12 | 221 |
| 86: | The Heroes Of Waterloo. | Once more Britannia sheathes her conqu'ring sword, | | 76 | 188 |
| 87: | The Morning Call. To The Honourable Lady--------. | I dare not look at those dear eyes, | | 16 | 199 |
| 88: | The Night-Blowing Cereus. | Can it be true, so fragrant and so fair, | 1827 | 14 | 186 |
| 89: | The Presumptuous Fly. | Come away, come away, little fly! | | 18 | 200 |
| 90: | The Runaway. | Ah! who is he by Cynthia's gleam | | 12 | 201 |
| 91: | The Runaway. | Ah! who is he by Cynthia's gleam | | 12 | 186 |
| 92: | The Sibyl. | So stood the Sibyl: stream'd her hoary hair | | 18 | 221 |
| 93: | The State Secret. An Impromptu. | Murder will out:"--and so will truth sometimes; | | 14 | 199 |
| 94: | The Steam-Boat. | Say, dark prow'd visitant! that o'er the brine | | 26 | 201 |
| 95: | Thoughts On Peace. | Still e'er that shrine defiance rears its head, | | 38 | 183 |
| 96: | To ****** | 0 Nymph! with cheeks of roseate hue, | | 8 | 207 |
| 97: | To ------. | Come, JENNY, let me sip the dew | | 8 | 222 |
| 98: | To ------. An Impromptu. | O Sue! you certainly have been | | 32 | 196 |
| 99: | To .......... | In vain, sweet Maid! for me you bring | | 24 | 194 |
| 100: | To A Fly, On The Bosom Of Chloe, While Sleeping. | Come away, come away, little fly! | | 24 | 195 |
| 101: | To Eliza. (Written In Her Album.) | I dare not spoil this spotless page | | 32 | 215 |
| 102: | To Margaret Jane H----, On Her Birth-Day, 17 June. | Thou art indeed a lovely flower, | | 24 | 186 |
| 103: | To Mary. | Oh! is there not in infant smiles | | 16 | 213 |
| 104: | To My Spaniel Fanny. | Fanny! were all the world like thee, | | 20 | 202 |
| 105: | To Robert Southey, Esq. On Reading His "Remains Of Henry Kirke White." | Southey! high placed on the contested throne | | 76 | 188 |
| 106: | To Sarah, While Singing. | In the retirement of this lovely spot, | 1827 | 15 | 197 |
| 107: | To Thaddeus.[1] | Farewell! loved youth, for still I hold thee dear, | | 24 | 203 |
| 108: | To The Reviewers. | Oh! ye, enthroned in presidential awe, | | 100 | 181 |
| 109: | To----. | In vain, sweet Maid! for me you bring | | 24 | 175 |
| 110: | To............. An Impromtu. | O Sub! you certainly have been, | | 32 | 187 |
| 111: | Widowed Love.[1] | Tell me, chaste spirit! in yon orb of light, | | 8 | 225 |
| 112: | Written In The Album Of I---- H---- P----, Esq. | Dear P----, while Painters, Poets, Sages, | | 14 | 175 |
| 113: | Written In The Album Of The Lady Of Counsellor D. Pollock. | Joy to thee, Lady! many years of joy | | 16 | 217 |
| 114: | Written In The Album Of The Lady Of Dr. George Birkbeck, M.D. | Lady unknown! a pilgrim from the shrine | | 16 | 215 |
| 115: | Written On The Death Of General Sir Ralph Abercrombie. | Mute Memory stands at Valour's awful shrine, | | 16 | 157 |
| 116: | Written On The Death Of General Washington. | Lamented Chief! at thy distinguish'd deeds | | 16 | 199 |
| 117: | Written Under An Elegant Drawing Of A Dead Canary Bird, | Death to the very life! not the closed eye, | | 14 | 178 |
| 118: | Youth And Age. | I love the joyous thoughtless heart, | | 20 | 176 |
