| | Poem Title | First Lines | Period | # Lines | # Reads |
| 1: | A Blue Love Song. To Miss-----. | Come wed with me and we will write, | | 37 | 431 |
| 2: | A Canadian Boat Song. | Faintly as tolls the evening chime | | 18 | 390 |
| 3: | A Case Of Libel. | A certain Sprite, who dwells below, | | 64 | 410 |
| 4: | A Characterless | Half Whig, half Tory, like those mid-way things, | 1834 | 46 | 312 |
| 5: | A Corrected Report Of Some Late Speeches. | St. Sinclair rose and declared in smooth, | 1834 | 48 | 331 |
| 6: | A Curious Fact. | The present Lord Kenyon (the Peer who writes letters, | | 40 | 349 |
| 7: | A Dream Of Antiquity. | I just had turned the classic page. | | 144 | 437 |
| 8: | A Dream Of Hindostan. | The longer one lives, the more one learns, | | 48 | 321 |
| 9: | A Dream Of Turtle. | Twas evening time, in the twilight sweet | 1826 | 42 | 386 |
| 10: | A Dream. | I thought this heart enkindled lay | | 8 | 450 |
| 11: | A Ghost Story. To The Air Of "Unfortunate Miss Bailey." | Not long in bed had Lyndhurst lain, | 1835 | 39 | 328 |
| 12: | A Hymn Of Welcome After The Recess. | And now-cross-buns and pancakes o'er | | 48 | 345 |
| 13: | A Joke Versified. | Come, come," said Tom's father, "at your time of life, | | 4 | 384 |
| 14: | A Late Scene At Swanage. | To Swanage--that neat little town in whose bay | | 24 | 321 |
| 15: | A Melologue Upon National Music. | There breathes a language known and felt | | 22 | 358 |
| 16: | A Night Thought. | How oft a cloud, with envious veil, | | 8 | 415 |
| 17: | A Pastoral Ballad. | I have found out a gift for my Erin, | | 48 | 342 |
| 18: | A Reflection At Sea. | See how, beneath the moonbeam's smile, | | 8 | 371 |
| 19: | A Sad Case. | How sad a case!--just think of it | | 44 | 306 |
| 20: | A Speculation. | Of all speculations the market holds forth, | | 4 | 325 |
| 21: | A Study From The Antique. | Behold, my love, the curious gem | | 56 | 409 |
| 22: | A Temple To Friendship. (Spanish Air.) | A Temple to Friendship;" said Laura, enchanted, | | 16 | 391 |
| 23: | A Vision Of Philosophy. | Twas on the Red Sea coast, at morn, we met | | 60 | 335 |
| 24: | A Vision. By The Author Of "Christabel." | Up!" said the Spirit and ere I could pray | | 74 | 369 |
| 25: | A Warning. | Oh, fair as heaven and chaste as light! | | 35 | 389 |
| 26: | Advertisement. | Missing or lost, last Sunday night, | 1830 | 24 | 314 |
| 27: | After The Battle. | Night closed around the conqueror's way, | | 16 | 345 |
| 28: | Alarming Intelligence! Revolution In The Dictionary--One Galt At The Head Of It. | God preserve us!--there's nothing now safe from assault; | | 33 | 332 |
| 29: | Alciphron: A Fragment. Letter I. | Well may you wonder at my flight | | 244 | 353 |
| 30: | Alciphron: A Fragment. Letter II. | Tis true, alas--the mysteries and the lore | | 205 | 323 |
| 31: | Alciphron: A Fragment. Letter III. | There is some star--or may it be | | 527 | 333 |
| 32: | Alciphron: A Fragment. Letter IV. | Rejoice, my friend, rejoice;--the youthful Chief | | 210 | 359 |
| 33: | All In The Family Way. A New Pastoral Ballad. | My banks are all furnisht with rags, | | 48 | 305 |
| 34: | All That's Bright Must Fade. (Indian Air.) | All that's bright must fade, | | 24 | 414 |
| 35: | Almighty God! Chorus Of Priests. (Air.--Mozart.) | Almighty GOD! when round thy shrine | | 16 | 382 |
| 36: | Alone In Crowds To Wander On. | Alone in crowds to wander on, | | 24 | 323 |
| 37: | Amatory Colloquy Between Bank And Government. | Is all then forgotten? those amorous pranks | 1826 | 34 | 335 |
| 38: | An Expostulation To Lord King. | How can you, my Lord, thus delight to torment all | 1826 | 41 | 322 |
| 39: | An Incantation. Sung By The Bubble Spirit. | Come with me and we will blow | | 48 | 319 |
| 40: | Anacreontic To A Plumassier. | Fine and feathery artisan, | | 45 | 342 |
| 41: | Anacreontic. | Press the grape, and let it pour | | 8 | 381 |
| 42: | Anacreontic. | She never looked so kind before | | 36 | 337 |
| 43: | Anacreontic. | I filled to thee, to thee I drank, | | 20 | 344 |
| 44: | Anacreontic. | Friend of my soul, this goblet sip, | | 16 | 350 |
| 45: | And Doth Not A Meeting Like This. | And doth not a meeting like this make amends, | | 40 | 344 |
| 46: | Angel Of Charity. (Air.--Handel) | Angel of Charity, who, from above, | | 16 | 327 |
| 47: | Animal Magnetism. | Tho' famed was Mesmer, in his day, | | 63 | 354 |
| 48: | Anne Boleyn. Translation From The Metrical | Much as her form seduced the sight, | | 16 | 304 |
| 49: | Announcement Of A New Grand Acceleration Company For The Promotion Of The Speed Of Literature. | Loud complaints being made in these quick-reading times, | | 57 | 328 |
| 50: | Announcement Of A New Thalaba. Addressed To Robert Southey, Esq. | When erst, my Southey, thy tuneful tongue | | 55 | 334 |
| 51: | Anticipated Meeting Of The British Association In The Year 1836. | After some observations from Dr. M'Grig | 1836 | 78 | 367 |
| 52: | As A Beam O'er The Face Of The Waters May Glow. | As a beam o'er the face of the waters may glow | | 12 | 327 |
| 53: | As Down In The Sunless Retreats. (Air.--Haydn.) | As down in the sunless retreats of the Ocean, | | 12 | 343 |
| 54: | As Slow Our Ship. | As slow our ship her foamy track | | 32 | 394 |
| 55: | As Vanquished Erin. | As vanquished Erin wept beside | | 24 | 327 |
| 56: | Ask Not If Still I Love. | Ask not if still I love, | | 16 | 363 |
| 57: | Aspasia. | Twas in the fair Aspasia's bower, | | 28 | 413 |
| 58: | At Night. | At night, when all is still around. | | 12 | 407 |
| 59: | At The Mid Hour Of Night | At the mid hour of night, when stars are weeping, I fly | | 10 | 354 |
| 60: | Avenging And Bright. | Avenging and bright fall the swift sword of Erin | | 16 | 387 |
| 61: | Awake, Arise, Thy Light Is Come. (Air.--Stevenson.) | Awake, arise, thy light is come; | | 44 | 365 |
| 62: | Awful Event. | Yes, Winchelsea (I tremble while I pen it), | | 30 | 348 |
| 63: | Ballad For The Cambridge Election. | Bankes is weak, and Goulbourn too, | 1826 | 30 | 330 |
| 64: | Ballad Stanzas. | I knew by the smoke, that so gracefully curled | | 16 | 374 |
| 65: | Beauty And Song. | Down in yon summer vale, | | 24 | 297 |
| 66: | Before The Battle. | By the hope within us springing, | | 28 | 335 |
| 67: | Behold The Sun. (Air.--Lord Mornington.) | Behold the Sun, how bright | | 16 | 297 |
| 68: | Believe Me If All Those Endearing Young Charms. | Believe me, if all those endearing young charms, | | 16 | 353 |
| 69: | Black And Blue Eyes. | The brilliant black eye | | 28 | 399 |
| 70: | Boat Glee. | The song that lightens the languid way, | | 170 | 337 |
| 71: | Bright Be Thy Dreams. (Welsh Air.) | Bright be thy dreams--may all thy weeping | | 12 | 361 |
| 72: | Bright Moon. | Bright moon, that high in heaven art shining, | | 16 | 301 |
| 73: | Bring The Bright Garlands Hither. | Bring the bright garlands hither, | | 20 | 302 |
| 74: | But Who Shall See. (Air.--Stevenson.) | But who shall see the glorious day | | 16 | 320 |
| 75: | By That Lake, Whose Gloomy Shore.[1] | By that Lake, whose gloomy shore | | 40 | 321 |
| 76: | Calm Be Thy Sleep. | Calm be thy sleep as infant's slumbers! | | 16 | 400 |
| 77: | Captain Rock In London. Letter From The Captain To Terry Alt, Esq.[1] | Here I am, at headquarters, dear Terry, once more, | | 49 | 309 |
| 78: | Cephalus And Procris. | A hunter once in that grove reclined, | | 24 | 329 |
| 79: | Child's Song. From A Masque. | I have a garden of my own, | | 16 | 319 |
| 80: | Church Extension. To The Editor Of The Morning Chronicle. | Important event for the rich and religious! | | 30 | 307 |
| 81: | Cloris And Fanny. | Cloris! if I were Persia's king, | | 8 | 336 |
| 82: | Cocker, On Church Reform. | Fine figures of speech let your orators follow, | 1833 | 35 | 325 |
| 83: | Come Not, Oh Lord. (Air.--Haydn.) | Come not, oh LORD, in the dread robe of splendor | | 12 | 374 |
| 84: | Come O'er The Sea. | Come o'er the sea, | | 28 | 339 |
| 85: | Come, Chase That Starting Tear Away. (French Air.) | Come, chase that starting tear away, | | 18 | 301 |
| 86: | Come, Play Me That Simple Air Again. A Ballad. | Come, play me that simple air again, | | 24 | 322 |
| 87: | Come, Rest In This Bosom. | Come, rest in this bosom, my own stricken deer, | | 12 | 311 |
| 88: | Come, Send Round The Wine. | Come, send round the wine, and leave points of belief | | 16 | 303 |
| 89: | Come, Ye Disconsolate. (Air.--German.) | Come, ye disconsolate, where'er you languish, | | 12 | 325 |
| 90: | Common Sense And Genius. (French Air.) | While I touch the string, | | 36 | 373 |
| 91: | Copy Of An Intercepted Despatch. | Great Sir, having just had the good luck to catch | 1826 | 54 | 353 |
| 92: | Corn And Catholics. | What! still those two infernal questions, | | 40 | 351 |
| 93: | Correspondence Between A Lady And Gentleman, Upon The Advantage Of (What Is Called) "Having Law[1] On One's Side." | Come fly to these arms nor let beauties so bloomy | | 36 | 304 |
| 94: | Corruption, An Epistle. | Boast on, my friend--tho' stript of all beside, | | 219 | 316 |
| 95: | Cotton And Corn. A Dialogue. | Said Cotton to Corn, t'other day, | | 32 | 326 |
| 96: | Country Dance And Quadrille. | One night the nymph called country dance | | 152 | 313 |
| 97: | Cupid And Psyche. | They told her that he, to whose vows she had listened | | 32 | 499 |
| 98: | Cupid Armed. | Place the helm on thy brow, | | 20 | 306 |
| 99: | Cupid's Lottery. | A lottery, a Lottery, | | 80 | 338 |
| 100: | Dear Fanny. | She has beauty, but still you must keep your heart cool; | | 12 | 382 |
| 101: | Dear Harp Of My Country. | Dear Harp of my Country! in darkness I found thee, | | 16 | 300 |
| 102: | Dear? Yes. | Dear? yes, tho' mine no more, | | 16 | 309 |
| 103: | Desmond's Song. | By the Feal's wave benighted, | | 32 | 357 |
| 104: | Dialogue Between A Sovereign And A One Pound Note. | Said a Sovereign to a Note, | | 42 | 337 |
| 105: | Dick * * * *, A Character. | Of various scraps and fragments built, | | 24 | 289 |
| 106: | Did Not. | Twas a new feeling--something more | | 18 | 329 |
| 107: | Do Not Say That Life Is Waning. | Do not say that life is waning, | | 12 | 346 |
| 108: | Dog-Day Reflections. By A Dandy Kept In Town. | Said Malthus one day to a clown | 1827 | 52 | 351 |
| 109: | Dost Thou Remember. (Portuguese Air.) | Dost thou remember that place so lonely, | | 16 | 373 |
| 110: | Dreaming For Ever. | Dreaming for ever, vainly dreaming, | | 16 | 329 |
| 111: | Dreams. To ... .... | In slumber, I prithee how is it | | 40 | 360 |
| 112: | Drink Of This Cup. | Drink of this cup;--you'll find there's a spell in | | 36 | 318 |
| 113: | Drink To Her. | Drink to her, who long, | | 36 | 283 |
| 114: | Echo. | How sweet the answer Echo makes | | 15 | 344 |
| 115: | Elegiac Stanzas. | When wearied wretches sink to sleep, | | 12 | 290 |
| 116: | Elegiac Stanzas. Supposed To Be Written By Julia, On The Death Of Her Brother. | Though sorrow long has worn my heart; | | 40 | 377 |
| 117: | Enigma. | Come, riddle-me-ree, come, riddle-me-ree, | | 38 | 333 |
| 118: | Epigram. | What news to-day?--"Oh! worse and worse | | 4 | 389 |
| 119: | Epigram. Dialogue Between A Catholic Delegate And His Royal Highness The Duke Of Cumberland. | Said his Highness to Ned,[1] with that grim face of his, | | 4 | 299 |
| 120: | Epigram. Dialogue Between A Dowager And Her Maid On The Night Of Lord Yarmouth's Fete. | I want the Court Guide," said my lady, "to look | | 4 | 270 |
| 121: | Epigram. From The French. | I never gave a kiss (says Prue), | | 4 | 335 |
| 122: | Epilogue. Written For Lady Dacre's Tragedy Of Ina. | Last night, as lonely o'er my fire I sat, | | 62 | 321 |
| 123: | Epistle From Captain Rock To Lord Lyndhurst. | Dear Lyndhurst,--you'll pardon my making thus free, | | 62 | 293 |
| 124: | Epistle From Erasmus On Earth To Cicero In The Shades. | As 'tis now, my dear Tully, some weeks since I started | | 71 | 352 |
| 125: | Epistle From Henry Of Exeter To John Of Tuam. | Dear John, as I know, like our brother of London, | | 44 | 308 |
| 126: | Epistle From Tom Crib To Big Ben.[1] Concerning Some Foul Play In A Late Transaction.[2] | What! BEN, my old hero, is this your renown? | | 39 | 352 |
| 127: | Epistle Of Condolence. From A Slave-Lord, To A Cotton-Lord. | Alas! my dear friend, what a state of affairs! | | 28 | 327 |
| 128: | Epitaph On A Tuft-Hunter. | Lament, lament, Sir Isaac Heard, | | 20 | 324 |
| 129: | Erin! The Tear And The Smile In Thine Eyes. | Erin, the tear and the smile in thine eyes, | | 12 | 297 |
| 130: | Erin, Oh Erin. | Like the bright lamp, that shone in Kildare's holy fane, | | 18 | 328 |
| 131: | Eveleen's Bower. | Oh! weep for the hour, | | 24 | 319 |
| 132: | Evenings In Greece | The sky is bright--the breeze is fair, | | 1529 | 323 |
| 133: | Extract. From A Prologue Written And Spoken By The Author, At The Opening Of The Kilkenny Theatre, October, 1809. | Yet, even here, tho' Fiction rules the hour, | | 28 | 318 |
| 134: | Extracts From The Diary Of A Politician. | Thro' Manchester Square took a canter just now | | 31 | 312 |
| 135: | Fables For The Holy Alliance. Fable I. The Dissolution Of The Holy Alliance. A Dream. | I've had a dream that bodes no good | | 132 | 326 |
| 136: | Fables For The Holy Alliance. Fable Ii. The Looking-Glasses. | Where Kings have been by mob-elections | | 118 | 375 |
| 137: | Fables For The Holy Alliance. Fable Iii. The Torch Of Liberty. | I saw it all in Fancy's glass | | 64 | 364 |
| 138: | Fables For The Holy Alliance. Fable Iv. The Fly And The Bullock. | Of all that, to the sage's survey, | | 83 | 332 |
| 139: | Fables For The Holy Alliance. Fable V. Church And State. | Thus did SOAME JENYNS--tho' a Tory, | | 150 | 341 |
| 140: | Fables For The Holy Alliance. Fable Vi. The Little Grand Lama. | Novella, a young Bolognese, | | 154 | 337 |
| 141: | Fables For The Holy Alliance. Fable Vii. The Extinguishers. | Tho' soldiers are the true supports, | | 109 | 351 |
| 142: | Fables For The Holy Alliance. Fable Viii. Louis Fourteenth's Wig. | The money raised--the army ready | | 163 | 375 |
| 143: | Fairest! Put On Awhile. | Fairest! put on awhile | | 40 | 329 |
| 144: | Fallen Is Thy Throne. (Air.--Martini.) | Fallen is thy Throne, oh Israel! | | 32 | 312 |
| 145: | Fancy. | The more I've viewed this world, the more I've found, | | 14 | 342 |
| 146: | Fanny, Dearest. | Yes! had I leisure to sigh and mourn, | | 24 | 298 |
| 147: | Fare Thee Well, Thou Lovely One! (Sicilian Air.) | Fare thee well, thou lovely one! | | 24 | 348 |
| 148: | Farewell!--But Whenever You Welcome The Hour. | Farewell!--but whenever you welcome the hour. | | 24 | 343 |
| 149: | Farewell, Theresa! (Venetian Air.) | Farewell, Theresa! yon cloud that over | | 12 | 383 |
| 150: | Fear Not That, While Around Thee. | Fear not that, while around thee | | 16 | 321 |
| 151: | Fill The Bumper Fair. | Fill the bumper fair! | | 28 | 302 |
| 152: | Flourish Of Trumpets. | Hark, 'tis the sound that charms | | 31 | 366 |
| 153: | Flow On, Thou Shining River. (Portuguese Air.) | Flow on, thou shining river; | | 16 | 293 |
| 154: | Fly Not Yet. | Fly not yet, 'tis just the hour, | | 26 | 322 |
| 155: | Fools' Paradise. Dream The First. | I have been, like Puck, I have been, in a trice, | | 68 | 283 |
| 156: | For Thee Alone. | For thee alone I brave the boundless deep, | | 20 | 326 |
| 157: | Forget Not The Field. | Forget not the field where they perished, | | 20 | 301 |
| 158: | Fragment Of A Character. | Here lies Factotum Ned at last; | | 44 | 338 |
| 159: | Fragment Of A Mythological Hymn To Love.[1] | Blest infant of eternity! | | 34 | 302 |
| 160: | Fragment. | Pity me, love! I'll pity thee, | | 25 | 383 |
| 161: | Fragments Of College Exercises. | Mark those proud boasters of a splendid line, | | 28 | 354 |
| 162: | From Life Without Freedom. | From life without freedom, say, who would not fly? | | 12 | 448 |
| 163: | From The Greek Of Meleager. | Fill high the cup with liquid flame, | | 16 | 296 |
| 164: | From The High Priest Of Apollo To A Virgin Of Delphi.[1] | Who is the maid, with golden hair, | | 69 | 323 |
| 165: | From The Hon. Henry ----, To Lady Emma ----. | You bid me explain, my dear angry Ma'amselle, | 1833 | 52 | 272 |
| 166: | From This Hour The Pledge Is Given. | From this hour the pledge is given, | | 20 | 320 |
| 167: | Fum And Hum, The Two Birds Of Royalty. | One day the Chinese Bird of Royalty, FUM, | | 48 | 290 |
| 168: | Gayly Sounds The Castanet. (Maltese Air.) | Gayly sounds the castanet, | | 24 | 379 |
| 169: | Gazel. | Haste, Maami, the spring is nigh; | | 24 | 366 |
| 170: | Genius And Criticism. | Of old, the Sultan Genius reigned, | | 60 | 290 |
| 171: | Go Forth To The Mount, (Air.--Stevenson.) | Go forth to the Mount; bring the olive-branch home | | 16 | 336 |
| 172: | Go Where Glory Waits Thee. | Go where glory waits thee, | | 39 | 307 |
| 173: | Go, Let Me Weep. (Air.--Stevenson.) | Go, let me weep--there's bliss in tears, | | 18 | 317 |
| 174: | Go, Now, And Dream. (Sicilian Air.) | Go, now, and dream o'er that joy in thy slumber | | 10 | 329 |
| 175: | Go, Then--'Tis Vain. (Sicilian Air.) | Go, then--'tis vain to hover | | 16 | 376 |
| 176: | Grand Dinner Of Type And Co. A Poor Poet's Dream.[1] | As I sate in my study, lone and still, | | 72 | 316 |
| 177: | Greek Air | List! 'tis a Grecian maid that sings, | | 14 | 338 |
| 178: | Guess, Guess. | I love a maid, a mystic maid, | | 20 | 339 |
| 179: | Hark! 'Tis The Breeze. (Air.--Rousseau.) | Hark! 'tis the breeze of twilight calling; | | 16 | 386 |
| 180: | Hark! The Vesper Hymn Is Stealing. (Russian Air.) | Hark! the vesper hymn is stealing | | 16 | 357 |
| 181: | Has Sorrow Thy Young Days Shaded. | Has sorrow thy young days shaded, | | 32 | 364 |
| 182: | Hat Versus Wig. | Twixt Eldon's Hat and Eldon's Wig | 1827 | 72 | 306 |
| 183: | Hear Me But Once. (French Air.) | Hear me but once, while o'er the grave, | | 9 | 312 |
| 184: | Her Last Words, At Parting. | Her last words, at parting, how can I forget? | | 16 | 370 |
| 185: | Here At Thy Tomb. By Meleager. | Here, at thy tomb, these tears I shed, | | 16 | 305 |
| 186: | Here Sleeps The Bard. (Highland Air.) | Here sleeps the Bard who knew so well | | 8 | 313 |
| 187: | Here's The Bower. | Here's the bower she loved so much, | | 18 | 340 |
| 188: | Here, Take My Heart. | Here, take my heart--'twill be safe in thy keeping, | | 16 | 307 |
| 189: | Hero And Leander. | The night wind is moaning with mournful sigh, | | 18 | 288 |
| 190: | Hip, Hip, Hurra! | Come, fill round a bumper, fill up to the brim, | | 25 | 345 |
| 191: | Hope Comes Again. | Hope comes again, to this heart long a stranger, | | 12 | 321 |
| 192: | Horace, Ode I. Lib. III. A Fragment. | I hate thee, oh, Mob, as my Lady hates delf; | | 15 | 310 |
| 193: | Horace, Ode Xi. Lib. Ii. Freely Translated By The Prince Regent. | Come, Yarmouth, my boy, never trouble your brains, | | 50 | 338 |
| 194: | Horace, Ode XXII. Lib. I. Freely Translated By Lord Eldon. | The man who keeps a conscience pure, | | 33 | 302 |
| 195: | Horace, Ode XXXVIII. Lib. I. A Fragment. | Boy, tell the Cook that I hate all nicknackeries. | | 11 | 298 |
| 196: | How Dear To Me The Hour. | How dear to me the hour when daylight dies, | | 8 | 319 |
| 197: | How Happy, Once. | How happy, once, tho' winged with sighs, | | 22 | 304 |
| 198: | How Lightly Mounts The Muse'S Wing. (Air--Anonymous.) | How lightly mounts the Muse's wing, | | 20 | 337 |
| 199: | How Oft Has The Banshee Cried. | How oft has the Banshee cried, | | 24 | 289 |
| 200: | How Oft, When Watching Stars. (Savoyard Air.) | Oft, when the watching stars grow pale, | | 20 | 435 |
| 201: | How Shall I Woo? | If I speak to thee in friendship's name, | | 30 | 322 |
| 202: | How To Make A Good Politician. | Whene'er you're in doubt, said a Sage I once knew, | | 48 | 330 |
| 203: | How To Make One's Self A Peer. | Choose some title that's dormant--the Peerage hath many-- | 1834 | 50 | 305 |
| 204: | How To Write By Proxy. | Mong our neighbors, the French, in the good olden time | | 36 | 294 |
| 205: | Hush, Hush! | Hush, hush!"--how well | | 16 | 345 |
| 206: | Hush, Sweet Lute. | Hush, sweet Lute, thy songs remind me | | 16 | 333 |
| 207: | Hymn Of A Virgin Of Delphi, At The Tomb Of Her Mother. | Oh, lost, forever lost--no more | | 52 | 310 |
| 208: | I Love But Thee. | If, after all, you still will doubt and fear me, | | 18 | 344 |
| 209: | I Saw From The Beach. | I saw from the beach, when the morning was shining, | | 16 | 364 |
| 210: | I Saw The Moon Rise Clear. A Finland Love Song. | I saw the moon rise clear | | 16 | 336 |
| 211: | I Saw Thy Form In Youthful Prime. | I saw thy form in youthful prime, | | 24 | 330 |
| 212: | I Wish I Was By That Dim Lake. | I wish I was by that dim Lake, | | 24 | 299 |
| 213: | I'd Mourn The Hopes. | I'd mourn the hopes that leave me, | | 32 | 311 |
| 214: | I've A Secret To Tell Thee. | I've a secret to tell thee, but hush! not here, | | 16 | 298 |
| 215: | If In Loving, Singing. | If in loving, singing, night and day | | 12 | 295 |
| 216: | If Thou Wouldst Have Me Sing And Play. | If thou wouldst have me sing and play, | | 32 | 309 |
| 217: | If Thou'lt Be Mine. | If thou'lt be mine, the treasures of air, | | 20 | 341 |
| 218: | If" And "Perhaps." | Oh tidings of freedom! oh accents of hope! | | 44 | 346 |
| 219: | Ill Omens. | When daylight was yet sleeping under the billow, | | 28 | 311 |
| 220: | Imitation Of Catullus. To Himself. | Cease the sighing fool to play; | | 45 | 377 |
| 221: | Imitation Of The Inferno Of Dante. | I turned my steps and lo! a shadowy throng | | 97 | 280 |
| 222: | Imitation. From The French. | With women and apples both Paris and Adam | | 8 | 313 |
| 223: | Impromptu, On Leaving Some Friends. | No, never shall my soul forget | | 12 | 279 |
| 224: | Impromptu. After A Visit To Mrs. ----, Of Montreal. | Twas but for a moment--and yet in that time | | 12 | 349 |
| 225: | Impromptu. Upon Being Obliged To Leave A Pleasant Party, From The Want Of A Pair Of Breeches To Dress For Dinner In. | Between Adam and me the great difference is, | 1810 | 4 | 276 |
| 226: | In Myrtle Wreaths. By Alcaeus. | In myrtle wreaths my votive sword I'll cover, | | 16 | 323 |
| 227: | In The Morning Of Life. | In the morning of life, when its cares are unknown, | | 24 | 423 |
| 228: | Incantation. From The New Tragedy Of "The Brunswickers." | Thrice hath scribbling Kenyon scrawled, | | 69 | 303 |
| 229: | Inconstancy. | And do I then wonder that Julia deceives me, | | 12 | 290 |
| 230: | Intended Tribute To The Author Of An Article In The Last Number Of The Quarterly Review, Entitled "Romanism In Ireland." | It glads us much to be able to say, | | 63 | 259 |
| 231: | Intolerance, A Satire. | Start not, my friend, nor think the Muse will stain | | 100 | 330 |
| 232: | Invitation To Dinner. Addressed To Lord Lansdowne. | Some think we bards have nothing real; | | 32 | 315 |
| 233: | Irish Antiquities. | According to some learned opinions | | 12 | 375 |
| 234: | Is It Not Sweet To Think, Hereafter. (Air.--Haydn.) | Is it not sweet to think, hereafter, | | 24 | 356 |
| 235: | It Is Not The Tear At This Moment Shed.[1] | It is not the tear at this moment shed, | | 16 | 304 |
| 236: | Joys Of Youth, How Fleeting! (Portuguese Air.) | Whisperings, heard by wakeful maids, | | 20 | 289 |
| 237: | Keep Those Eyes Still Purely Mine. | Keep those eyes still purely mine, | | 12 | 367 |
| 238: | King Crack[1] And His Idols. | King Crack was the best of all possible Kings, | | 24 | 365 |
| 239: | Lalla Rookh | In that delightful Province of the Sun, | | 5718 | 355 |
| 240: | Lament For The Loss Of Lord Bathurst's Tail. | All in again--unlookt for bliss! | | 60 | 340 |
| 241: | Late Tithe Case. | No, not for yourselves, ye reverend men, | 1833 | 41 | 286 |
| 242: | Latest Accounts From Olympus. | As news from Olympus has grown rather rare, | | 57 | 347 |
| 243: | Lay His Sword By His Side. | Lay his sword by his side, it hath served him too well | | 24 | 350 |
| 244: | Les Hommes Automates. | It being an object now to meet | 1834 | 48 | 342 |
| 245: | Lesbia Hath A Beaming Eye. | Lesbia hath a beaming eye, | | 39 | 350 |
| 246: | Let Erin Remember The Days Of Old. | Let Erin remember the days of old. | | 16 | 309 |
| 247: | Let Joy Alone Be Remembered Now. | Let thy joys alone be remembered now, | | 24 | 357 |
| 248: | Let's Take This World As Some Wide Scene. | Let's take this world as some wide scene. | | 24 | 335 |
| 249: | Letter From Larry O'Branigan To The Rev. Murthagh O'Mulligan. | Arrah, where were you, Murthagh, that beautiful day? | | 29 | 364 |
| 250: | Light Sounds The Harp. | Light sounds the harp when the combat is over, | | 28 | 312 |
| 251: | Like Morning, When Her Early Breeze. (Air. Beethoven.) | Like morning, when her early breeze | | 16 | 385 |
| 252: | Like One Who, Doomed. | Like one who, doomed o'er distant seas | | 16 | 299 |
| 253: | Lines On The Death Of Joseph Atkinson, Esq., Of Dublin. | If ever life was prosperously cast, | | 20 | 314 |
| 254: | Lines On The Death Of Mr. Perceval. | In the dirge we sung o'er him no censure was heard, | | 16 | 278 |
| 255: | Lines On The Death Of Sheridan. | Yes, grief will have way--but the fast falling tear | | 56 | 332 |
| 256: | Lines On The Departure Of Lord Castlereagh And Stewart For The Continent. | Go, Brothers in wisdom--go, bright pair of Peers, | | 36 | 287 |
| 257: | Lines On The Entry Of The Austrians Into Naples, 1821. | Ay--down to the dust with them, slaves as they are, | | 44 | 374 |
| 258: | Lines Written At The Cohos, Or Falls Of The Mohawk Kiver.[1] | From rise of morn till set of sun | | 36 | 325 |
| 259: | Lines Written In A Storm At Sea. | That sky of clouds is not the sky | | 36 | 351 |
| 260: | Lines Written On Leaving Philadelphia. | Alone by the Schuylkill a wanderer roved, | | 32 | 339 |
| 261: | Literary Advertisement. | Wanted--Authors of all-work to job for the season, | | 44 | 293 |
| 262: | Little Man And Little Soul. A Ballad. | There was a little Man and he had a little Soul, | | 34 | 305 |
| 263: | Long Years Have Past. | Long years have past, old friend, since we | | 24 | 347 |
| 264: | Lord Henley And St. Cecilia | As snug in his bed Lord Henley lay, | | 44 | 280 |
| 265: | Lord Wellington And The Ministers. | So gently in peace Alcibiades smiled, | 1813 | 8 | 285 |
| 266: | Lord, Who Shall Bear That Day. (Air.--Dr. Boyce.) | Lord, who shall bear that day, so dread, so splendid, | | 18 | 288 |
| 267: | Love Alone. | If thou wouldst have thy charms enchant our eyes, | | 12 | 351 |
| 268: | Love And Hope. (Swiss Air.) | At morn, beside yon summer sea, | | 30 | 312 |
| 269: | Love And Hymen. | Love had a fever--ne'er could close | | 16 | 303 |
| 270: | Love And Marriage. | Still the question I must parry, | | 20 | 328 |
| 271: | Love And Reason. | Twas in the summer time so sweet, | | 77 | 339 |
| 272: | Love And The Novice. | Here we dwell, in holiest bowers, | | 21 | 320 |
| 273: | Love And The Sun-Dial. | Young Love found a Dial once in a dark shade | | 18 | 344 |
| 274: | Love And Time. | Tis said--but whether true or not | | 30 | 372 |
| 275: | Love Is A Hunter-Boy. (Languedocian Air.) | Love is a hunter-boy, | | 16 | 318 |
| 276: | Love Thee, Dearest? Love Thee? | Love thee, dearest? love thee? | | 18 | 413 |
| 277: | Love Thee? | Love thee?--so well, so tenderly | | 24 | 349 |
| 278: | Love's Light Summer-Cloud. | Pain and sorrow shall vanish before us | | 24 | 351 |
| 279: | Love's Victory. | Sing to Love--for, oh, 'twas he | | 26 | 369 |
| 280: | Love's Young Dream. | Oh! the days are gone, when Beauty bright | | 33 | 301 |
| 281: | Love, Wandering Thro' The Golden Maze. | Love, wandering through the golden maze | | 8 | 321 |
| 282: | Lusitanian War-Song. | The song of war shall echo thro' our mountains, | | 18 | 277 |
| 283: | Lying. | I do confess, in many a sigh, | | 32 | 289 |
| 284: | Memorabilia Of Last Week. | The Budget--quite charming and witty--no hearing, | 1826 | 58 | 274 |
| 285: | Merrily Every Bosom Boundeth. (The Tyrolese Song Of Liberty.) | Merrily every bosom boundeth, | | 30 | 300 |
| 286: | Mind Not Tho' Daylight. | Mind not tho' daylight around us is breaking, | | 12 | 404 |
| 287: | Missing. | Whereas, Lord ---- de ---- | 1832 | 52 | 310 |
| 288: | Moral Positions. A Dream. | T'other night, after hearing Lord Dudley's oration | | 28 | 310 |
| 289: | Morality. A Familiar Epistle. | Though long at school and college dozing. | | 94 | 319 |
| 290: | Mr. Roger Dodsworth. | What a lucky turn-up!--just as Eldon's withdrawing, | 1826 | 24 | 292 |
| 291: | Musings Of An Unreformed Peer. | Of all the odd plans of this monstrously queer age, | | 43 | 320 |
| 292: | Musings. Suggested By The Late Promotion Of Mrs. Nethercoat. | Whether as queens or subjects, in these days, | | 38 | 332 |
| 293: | My Birth-Day. | My birth-day"--what a different sound | | 40 | 311 |
| 294: | My Gentle Harp. | My gentle harp, once more I waken | | 32 | 315 |
| 295: | My Harp Has One Unchanging Theme. (Swedish Air.) | My harp has one unchanging theme, | | 16 | 291 |
| 296: | My Heart And Lute. | I give thee all--I can no more | | 16 | 377 |
| 297: | My Mopsa Is Little. By Philodemus. | My Mopsa is little, my Mopsa is brown, | | 18 | 291 |
| 298: | Nature's Labels. A Fragment. | In vain we fondly strive to trace | | 46 | 412 |
| 299: | Nay, Tell Me Not, Dear. | Nay, tell me not, dear, that the goblet drowns | | 28 | 316 |
| 300: | Ne'er Ask The Hour. | Ne'er ask the hour--what is it to us | | 24 | 314 |
| 301: | Ne'er Talk Of Wisdom's Gloomy Schools. (Mahratta Air.) | Ne'er talk of Wisdom's gloomy schools; | | 16 | 324 |
| 302: | Nets And Cages.[1] (Swedish Air.) | Come, listen to my story, while | | 42 | 279 |
| 303: | New Creation Of Peers. Batch The First. | And now," quoth the Minister, (eased of his panics, | 1827 | 47 | 296 |
| 304: | New Grand Exhibition Of Models Of The Two Houses Of Parliament. | Come, step in, gentlefolks, here ye may view | | 46 | 330 |
| 305: | New Hospital For Sick Literati. | With all humility we beg | | 70 | 302 |
| 306: | New-Fashioned Echoes. | There are echoes, we know, of all sorts, | 1828 | 60 | 280 |
| 307: | News For Country Cousins. | Dear Coz, as I know neither you nor Miss Draper, | 1826 | 40 | 302 |
| 308: | Nights Of Music. | Nights of music, nights of loving, | | 16 | 361 |
| 309: | No, Not More Welcome. | No, not more welcome the fairy numbers | | 16 | 299 |
| 310: | No--Leave My Heart To Rest. | No--leave my heart to rest, if rest it may, | | 14 | 339 |
| 311: | Nonsense. | Good reader! if you e'er have seen, | | 12 | 354 |
| 312: | Not From Thee. | Not from thee the wound should come, | | 24 | 341 |
| 313: | Notions On Reform. By A Modern Reformer. | Of all the misfortunes as yet brought to pass | | 40 | 295 |
| 314: | O Say, Thou Best And Brightest. | O say, thou best and brightest, | | 16 | 322 |
| 315: | O'Donohue's Mistress. | Of all the fair months, that round the sun | | 30 | 334 |
| 316: | Occasional Address For The Opening Of The New Theatre Of St. Stephen, | This day a New House for your edification | | 48 | 285 |
| 317: | Occasional Epilogue. Spoken By Mr. Cobby, In The Character Of Vapid, After The Play Of The Dramatist, At The Kilkenny Theatre. | Ladies and Gentlemen, on Monday night, | | 38 | 312 |
| 318: | Ode To A Hat. | Hail, reverent Hat!--sublime mid all | | 54 | 299 |
| 319: | Ode To Don Miguel. | What! Miguel, not patriotic! oh, fy! | 1828 | 32 | 307 |
| 320: | Ode To Ferdinand. | Quit the sword, thou King of men, | 1827 | 53 | 330 |
| 321: | Ode To The Goddess Ceres. | Dear Goddess of Corn whom the ancients, we know, | | 48 | 281 |
| 322: | Ode To The Sublime Porte. | Great Sultan, how wise are thy state compositions! | 1826 | 28 | 304 |
| 323: | Ode To The Woods And Forests. By One Of The Board. | Let other bards to groves repair, | 1828 | 36 | 290 |
| 324: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode I. | I saw the smiling bard of pleasure, | | 24 | 293 |
| 325: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode II. | Give me the harp of epic song, | | 20 | 317 |
| 326: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode III. | Listen to the Muse's lyre, | | 14 | 342 |
| 327: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode IV. | Vulcan! hear your glorious task; | | 24 | 286 |
| 328: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode IX. | I pray thee, by the gods above, | | 26 | 294 |
| 329: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode L. | When wine I quaff, before my eyes | | 40 | 340 |
| 330: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode LI. | Fly not thus my brow of snow, | | 12 | 307 |
| 331: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode LII. | Away, away, ye men of rules, | | 18 | 289 |
| 332: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode LIII. | When I behold the festive train | | 20 | 297 |
| 333: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode LIX. | Ripened by the solar beam, | | 30 | 327 |
| 334: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode LV. | While we invoke the wreathed spring, | | 66 | 314 |
| 335: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode LVI. | He, who instructs the youthful crew | | 24 | 270 |
| 336: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode LVII. | Whose was the artist hand that spread | | 36 | 324 |
| 337: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode LVIII. | When Gold, as fleet as zephyr's' pinion, | | 46 | 287 |
| 338: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode LX. | Awake to life, my sleeping shell, | | 54 | 321 |
| 339: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode LXI. | Youth's endearing charms are fled; | | 14 | 286 |
| 340: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode LXII. | Fill me, boy, as deep a draught, | | 16 | 301 |
| 341: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode LXIII. | To Love, the soft and blooming child, | | 6 | 299 |
| 342: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode LXIV. | Haste thee, nymph, whose well-aimed spear | | 12 | 279 |
| 343: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode LXIX. | They wove the lotus band to deck | | 10 | 274 |
| 344: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode LXV. | Like some wanton filly sporting, | | 16 | 307 |
| 345: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode LXVI. | To thee, the Queen of nymphs divine, | | 34 | 285 |
| 346: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode LXVII. | Rich in bliss, I proudly scorn | | 8 | 298 |
| 347: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode LXVIII. | Now Neptune's month our sky deforms, | | 10 | 277 |
| 348: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode LXX. | A broken cake, with honey sweet, | | 8 | 320 |
| 349: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode LXXI. | With twenty chords my lyre is hung, | | 8 | 299 |
| 350: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode LXXII. | Fare thee well, perfidious maid, | | 6 | 316 |
| 351: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode LXXIII. | Awhile I bloomed, a happy flower, | | 6 | 300 |
| 352: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode LXXIV. | Monarch Love, resistless boy, | | 12 | 300 |
| 353: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode LXXV. | Spirit of Love, whose locks unrolled, | | 12 | 274 |
| 354: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode LXXVI. | Hither, gentle Muse of mine, | | 8 | 306 |
| 355: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode LXXVII. | Would that I were a tuneful lyre, | | 8 | 239 |
| 356: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode LXXVIII. | When Cupid sees how thickly now, | | 36 | 254 |
| 357: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode V. | Sculptor, wouldst thou glad my soul, | | 26 | 303 |
| 358: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode VI. | As late I sought the spangled bowers, | | 12 | 331 |
| 359: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode VII. | The women tell me every day | | 14 | 261 |
| 360: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode VIII. | I care not for the idle state | | 22 | 298 |
| 361: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode X. | How am I to punish thee, | | 14 | 317 |
| 362: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XI. | Tell me, gentle youth, I pray thee, | | 24 | 302 |
| 363: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XII. | They tell how Atys, wild with love, | | 16 | 284 |
| 364: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XIII. | I will, I will, the conflict's past, | | 32 | 292 |
| 365: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XIV. | Count me, on the summer trees, | | 40 | 308 |
| 366: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XIX. | Here recline you, gentle maid, | | 12 | 300 |
| 367: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XL. | I know that Heaven hath sent me here, | | 16 | 326 |
| 368: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XLI. | When Spring adorns the dewy scene, | | 10 | 281 |
| 369: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XLII. | Yes, be the glorious revel mine, | | 24 | 313 |
| 370: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XLIII. | While our rosy fillets shed | | 26 | 276 |
| 371: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XLIV. | Buds of roses, virgin flowers, | | 24 | 287 |
| 372: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XLIX. | When Bacchus, Jove's immortal boy, | | 16 | 303 |
| 373: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XLV. | Within this goblet, rich and deep, | | 14 | 265 |
| 374: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XLVI. | Behold, the young, the rosy Spring, | | 22 | 328 |
| 375: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XLVII. | Tis true, my fading years decline, | | 22 | 300 |
| 376: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XLVIII. | When my thirsty soul I steep, | | 22 | 342 |
| 377: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XV. | Tell me, why, my sweetest dove, | | 46 | 304 |
| 378: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XVI. | Thou, whose soft and rosy hues | | 46 | 287 |
| 379: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XVII. | And now with all thy pencil's truth, | | 58 | 421 |
| 380: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XVIII. | Now the star of day is high, | | 16 | 343 |
| 381: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XX. | One day the Muses twined the hands | | 12 | 305 |
| 382: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XXI. | Observe when mother earth is dry, | | 12 | 334 |
| 383: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XXII. | The Phrygian rock, that braves the storm, | | 24 | 311 |
| 384: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XXIII. | I often wish this languid lyre, | | 22 | 289 |
| 385: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XXIV. | To all that breathe the air of heaven, | | 22 | 272 |
| 386: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XXIX. | Yes--loving is a painful thrill, | | 22 | 297 |
| 387: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XXV. | Once in each revolving year, | | 30 | 368 |
| 388: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XXVI. | Thy harp may sing of Troy's alarms, | | 12 | 321 |
| 389: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XXVII. | We read the flying courser's name | | 8 | 282 |
| 390: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XXVIII. | As, by his Lemnian forge's flame, | | 26 | 332 |
| 391: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XXX. | Twas in a mocking dream of night | | 16 | 281 |
| 392: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XXXI. | Armed with hyacinthine rod, | | 16 | 324 |
| 393: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XXXII. | Strew me a fragrant bed of leaves, | | 30 | 312 |
| 394: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XXXIII. | Twas noon of night, when round the pole | | 48 | 285 |
| 395: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XXXIV. | Oh thou, of all creation blest, | | 32 | 327 |
| 396: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XXXIX. | How I love the festive boy, | | 8 | 287 |
| 397: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XXXV. | Cupid once upon a bed | | 20 | 325 |
| 398: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XXXVI. | If hoarded gold possest the power | | 22 | 293 |
| 399: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XXXVII. | Twas night, and many a circling bowl | | 24 | 287 |
| 400: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XXXVIII. | Let us drain the nectared bowl, | | 38 | 327 |
| 401: | Odes Of Anacreon - Ode. LIV. | Methinks, the pictured bull we see | | 10 | 305 |
| 402: | Odes To Nea; Written At Bermuda. | Nay, tempt me not to love again, | | 132 | 359 |
| 403: | Oft, In The Stilly Night. (Scotch Air.) | Oft in the stilly night, | | 28 | 313 |
| 404: | Oh Banquet Not. | Oh banquet not in those shining bowers, | | 16 | 293 |
| 405: | Oh Fair! Oh Purest! Saint Augustine To His Sister. (Air.--Moore) | Oh fair! oh purest! be thou the dove | | 20 | 277 |
| 406: | Oh For The Swords Of Former Time! | Oh for the swords of former time! | | 21 | 295 |
| 407: | Oh The Shamrock. | Thro' Erin's Isle, | | 48 | 316 |
| 408: | Oh Thou Who Dry'st The Mourner's Tear. (Air.--Haydn.) | Oh Thou who dry'st the mourner's tear, | | 24 | 291 |
| 409: | Oh! Blame Not The Bard.[1] | Oh! blame not the bard, if he fly to the bowers, | | 32 | 291 |
| 410: | Oh! Breathe Not His Name. | Oh! breathe not his name, let it sleep in the shade, | | 8 | 302 |
| 411: | Oh! Doubt Me Not. | Oh! doubt me not--the season | | 24 | 295 |
| 412: | Oh! Had We Some Bright Little Isle Of Our Own. | Oh! had we some bright little isle of our own, | | 20 | 295 |
| 413: | Oh! Think Not My Spirits Are Always As Light. | Oh! think not my spirits are always as light, | | 24 | 297 |
| 414: | Oh, Arranmore, Loved Arranmore. | Oh! Arranmore, loved Arranmore, | | 24 | 309 |
| 415: | Oh, Call It By Some Better Name. | Oh, call it by some better name, | | 16 | 364 |
| 416: | Oh, Come To Me When Daylight Sets. (Venetian Air.) | Oh, come to me when daylight sets; | | 24 | 302 |
| 417: | Oh, Could We Do With This World Of Ours. | Oh, could we do with this world of ours | | 24 | 298 |
| 418: | Oh, Days Of Youth. (French Air.) | Oh, days of youth and joy, long clouded, | | 16 | 335 |
| 419: | Oh, Do Not Look So Bright And Blest. | Oh, do not look so bright and blest, | | 24 | 328 |
| 420: | Oh, Guard Our Affection. | Oh, guard our affection, nor e'er let it feel | | 12 | 287 |
| 421: | Oh, No--Not Even When First We Loved. (Cashmerian Air.) | Oh, no--not even when first we loved, | | 16 | 308 |
| 422: | Oh, Soon Return. | Our white sail caught the evening ray, | | 24 | 295 |
| 423: | Oh, Teach Me To Love Thee. (Air.--Haydn.) | Oh, teach me to love Thee, to feel what thou art, | | 15 | 300 |
| 424: | Oh, The Sight Entrancing. | Oh, the sight entrancing, | | 35 | 256 |
| 425: | Oh, Ye Dead! | Oh, ye Dead! oh, ye Dead![1] whom we know by the light you give | | 16 | 291 |
| 426: | On A Squinting Poetess. | To no one Muse does she her glance confine, | | 2 | 262 |
| 427: | On Music. | When thro' life unblest we rove, | | 24 | 313 |
| 428: | On The Death Of A Friend. | Pure as the mantle, which, o'er him who stood | | 10 | 333 |
| 429: | On The Death Of A Lady, | Sweet spirit! if thy airy sleep | | 16 | 269 |
| 430: | One Bumper At Parting. | One bumper at parting!--tho' many | | 36 | 287 |
| 431: | One Dear Smile. | Couldst thou look as dear as when | | 18 | 287 |
| 432: | Our First Young Love. | Our first young love resembles | | 17 | 295 |
| 433: | Paddy's Metamorphosis. | About fifty years since, in the days of our daddies, | 1833 | 33 | 317 |
| 434: | Parody Of A Celebrated Letter. | At length, dearest Freddy, the moment is night | | 127 | 332 |
| 435: | Peace And Glory. | Where is now the smile, that lightened | | 32 | 319 |
| 436: | Peace Be Around Thee. (Scotch Air.) | Peace be around thee, wherever thou rov'st; | | 16 | 314 |
| 437: | Peace To The Slumberers! (Catalonian Air.) | Peace to the slumberers! | | 18 | 290 |
| 438: | Peace, Peace To Him That's Gone! | When I am dead. | | 24 | 332 |
| 439: | Police Reports. Case Of Imposture. | Among other stray flashmen disposed of, this week, | | 36 | 289 |
| 440: | Poor Broken Flower. | Poor broken flower! what art can now recover thee? | | 12 | 311 |
| 441: | Poor Wounded Heart | Poor wounded heart, farewell! | | 18 | 311 |
| 442: | Proposals For A Gynaecocracy. Addressed To A Late Radical Meeting. | As Whig Reform has had its range, | | 48 | 296 |
| 443: | Quick! We Have But A Second. | Quick! we have but a second, | | 24 | 344 |
| 444: | Reason, Folly, And Beauty. (Italian Air.) | Reason and Folly and Beauty, they say, | | 36 | 331 |
| 445: | Recent Dialogue. | A Bishop and a bold dragoon, | 1825 | 40 | 722 |
| 446: | Reflections. Addressed To The Author Of The Article Of The Church In The Last Number Of The Quarterly Review. | I'm quite of your mind;--tho' these Pats cry aloud | | 44 | 283 |
| 447: | Reinforcements For Lord Wellington. | As recruits in these times are not easily got | | 27 | 302 |
| 448: | Religion And Trade. | Say, who was the wag, indecorously witty, | | 32 | 305 |
| 449: | Remember The Time. (The Castilian Maid.) | Remember the time, in La Mancha's shades, | | 16 | 312 |
| 450: | Remember Thee. | Remember thee? yes, while there's life in this heart, | | 12 | 284 |
| 451: | Remonstrance. | What! thou, with thy genius, thy youth, and thy name | | 36 | 283 |
| 452: | Resolutions Passed At A Late Meeting Of Reverends And Right Reverends. | Resolved--to stick to every particle | | 57 | 320 |
| 453: | Reuben And Rose. A Tale Of Romance. | The darkness that hung upon Willumberg's walls | | 68 | 288 |
| 454: | Rhymes On The Road. Extract I. Geneva. | Twas late--the sun had almost shone | | 72 | 265 |
| 455: | Rhymes On The Road. Extract II. Geneva. | Yes--if there yet live some of those, | | 51 | 278 |
| 456: | Rhymes On The Road. Extract III. Geneva. | Even here in this region of wonders I find | | 36 | 333 |
| 457: | Rhymes On The Road. Extract IV. Milan. | Went to the Brera--saw a Dance of Loves | | 43 | 248 |
| 458: | Rhymes On The Road. Extract IX. Venice. | And is there then no earthly place, | | 42 | 280 |
| 459: | Rhymes On The Road. Extract V. Padua. | The more I've viewed this world the more I've found, | | 35 | 272 |
| 460: | Rhymes On The Road. Extract VI. Venice. | Mourn not for VENICE--let her rest | | 72 | 260 |
| 461: | Rhymes On The Road. Extract VII. Venice. | Let me a moment--ere with fear and hope | | 66 | 268 |
| 462: | Rhymes On The Road. Extract VIII. Venice. | Thy brave, thy learned have passed away: | | 92 | 269 |
| 463: | Rhymes On The Road. Extract X. Mantua. | They tell me thou'rt the favored guest | | 38 | 268 |
| 464: | Rhymes On The Road. Extract XI. Florence. | No--'tis not the region where Love's to be found | | 73 | 244 |
| 465: | Rhymes On The Road. Extract XII. Florence. | If it be true that Music reigns, | | 76 | 366 |
| 466: | Rhymes On The Road. Extract XIII. Rome. | Twas a proud moment--even to hear the words | | 88 | 262 |
| 467: | Rhymes On The Road. Extract XIV. Rome. | Filled with the wonders I had seen | | 155 | 291 |
| 468: | Rhymes On The Road. Extract XV. Rome. | No wonder, MARY, that thy story | | 99 | 265 |
| 469: | Rhymes On The Road. Extract XVI. Les Charmettes. | Strange power of Genius, that can throw | | 108 | 271 |
| 470: | Rhymes On The Road. Introductory Rhymes. | What various attitudes and ways | | 92 | 291 |
| 471: | Rich And Rare Were The Gems She Wore.[1] | Rich and rare were the gems she wore, | | 16 | 248 |
| 472: | Rings And Seals. | Go!" said the angry, weeping maid, | | 36 | 287 |
| 473: | Rival Topics.[1] An Extravaganza. | Oh Wellington and Stephenson, | | 48 | 242 |
| 474: | Rondeau. | Good night! good night!"--And is it so? | | 18 | 262 |
| 475: | Rose Of The Desert | Rose of the Desert! thou, whose blushing ray, | | 12 | 291 |
| 476: | Round The World Goes. | Round the world goes, by day and night, | | 24 | 296 |
| 477: | Row Gently Here. (Venetian Air.) | Row gently here, | | 20 | 248 |
| 478: | Sail On, Sail On. | Sail on, sail on, thou fearless bark | | 16 | 507 |
| 479: | Sale Of Cupid. By Meleager. | Who'll buy a little boy? Look, yonder is he, | | 24 | 251 |
| 480: | Say, What Shall Be Our Sport To-Day? (Sicilian Air.) | Say, what shall be our sport today? | | 16 | 278 |
| 481: | Say, What Shall We Dance? | Say, what shall we dance? | | 22 | 277 |
| 482: | Scene From A Play, Acted At Oxford, Called "Matriculation." | Doctor P.--There, my lad, lie the | | 35 | 303 |
| 483: | Scepticism. | Ere Psyche drank the cup that shed | | 36 | 267 |
| 484: | See, The Dawn From Heaven. (To An Air Sung At Rome, On Christmas Eve.) | See, the dawn from Heaven is breaking | | 16 | 265 |
| 485: | Shall The Harp Then Be Silent. | Shall the Harp then be silent, when he who first gave | | 40 | 277 |
| 486: | She Is Far From The Land. | She is far from the land where her young hero sleeps, | | 16 | 306 |
| 487: | She Sung Of Love. | She sung of Love, while o'er her lyre | | 24 | 335 |
| 488: | Shine Out, Stars! | Shine out, Stars! let Heaven assemble | | 16 | 317 |
| 489: | Should Those Fond Hopes. (Portuguese Air.) | Should those fond hopes e'er forsake thee, | | 16 | 276 |
| 490: | Silence Is In Our Festal Halls. | Silence is in our festal halls, | | 32 | 236 |
| 491: | Since First Thy Word. (Air.--Nicholas Freeman.) | Since first Thy Word awaked my heart, | | 16 | 269 |
| 492: | Sing, Sweet Harp. | Sing, sweet Harp, oh sing to me | | 36 | 272 |
| 493: | Sing--Sing--Music Was Given. | Sing--sing--Music was given, | | 24 | 304 |
| 494: | Sir Andrew's Dream. | As snug, on a Sunday eve, of late, | | 62 | 278 |
| 495: | Sketch Of The First Act Of A New Romantic Drama. | And now," quoth the goddess, in accents jocose, | | 54 | 291 |
| 496: | Slumber, Oh Slumber. | Slumber, oh slumber; if sleeping thou mak'st | | 14 | 289 |
| 497: | So Warmly We Met. (Hungarian Air.) | So warmly we met and so fondly we parted, | | 16 | 251 |
| 498: | Some Account Of The Late Dinner To Dan. | From tongue to tongue the rumor flew; | | 47 | 229 |
| 499: | Song Of A Hyperborean. | I come from a land in the sun bright deep, | | 27 | 290 |
| 500: | Song Of Hercules To His Daughter. | I've been, oh, sweet daughter, | | 32 | 299 |
| 501: | Song Of Innisfail. | They came from a land beyond the sea, | | 24 | 290 |
| 502: | Song Of Old Puck. | Who wants old Puck? for here am I, | | 58 | 263 |
| 503: | Song Of The Battle Eve. | To-morrow, comrade, we | | 28 | 254 |
| 504: | Song Of The Church. No. 1. Leave Me Alone. A Pastoral Ballad. | Come, list to my pastoral tones, | 1838 | 48 | 277 |
| 505: | Song Of The Departing Spirit Of Tithe. | It is o'er, it is o'er, my reign is o'er; | | 81 | 254 |
| 506: | Song Of The Evil Spirit Of The Woods.[1] | Now the vapor, hot and damp, | | 56 | 294 |
| 507: | Song Of The Nubian Girl. | O Abyssinian tree, | | 16 | 311 |
| 508: | Song Of The Poco-Curante Society. | To those we love we've drank tonight; | | 40 | 249 |
| 509: | Song Of The Two Cupbearers. | Drink of this cup--Osiris sips | | 42 | 242 |
| 510: | Song. | If I swear by that eye, you'll allow, | | 20 | 317 |
| 511: | Song. | When Time who steals our years away | | 36 | 275 |
| 512: | Song. | Have you not seen the timid tear, | | 16 | 285 |
| 513: | Song. | The wreath you wove, the wreath you wove, | | 12 | 269 |
| 514: | Song. | Why does azure deck the sky? | | 18 | 302 |
| 515: | Song. | Fly from the world, O Bessy! to me, | | 32 | 259 |
| 516: | Song. | Think on that look whose melting ray | | 12 | 285 |
| 517: | Song. | Mary, I believed thee true, | | 18 | 286 |
| 518: | Song. | Take back the sigh, thy lips of art | | 15 | 251 |
| 519: | Song. | Where is the heart that would not give | | 20 | 244 |
| 520: | Song. Fanny, Dearest. | Yes! had I leisure to sigh and mourn, | | 24 | 283 |
| 521: | Song. On The Birthday Of Mrs. ----. | Of all my happiest hours of joy, | 1799 | 39 | 280 |
| 522: | Sound The Loud Timbrel. Miriam's Song. (Alr.--Avison.)[1] | Sound the loud Timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea! | | 16 | 269 |
| 523: | Sovereign Woman. A Ballad. | The dance was o'er, yet still in dreams | | 32 | 253 |
| 524: | Spanish Air.--"Ya Desperto." | But ah! if vain the patriot's zeal, | | 12 | 226 |
| 525: | Spanish Chorus. | Hark! from Spain, indignant Spain, | | 8 | 246 |
| 526: | Speech On The Umbrella Question. | My Lords, I'm accused of a trick that God knows is | 1827 | 24 | 307 |
| 527: | Spring And Autumn. | Every season hath its pleasures; | | 24 | 296 |
| 528: | St. Jerome On Earth. | As St. Jerome who died some ages ago, | 1832 | 47 | 285 |
| 529: | St. Jerome On Earth. Second Visit. | Once more," said Jerome, "I'll run up and see | | 71 | 216 |
| 530: | St. Senanus And The Lady. | Oh! haste and leave this sacred isle, | | 18 | 312 |
| 531: | Stanzas From The Banks Of The Shannon. | No longer dear Vesey, feel hurt and uneasy | 1828 | 32 | 264 |
| 532: | Stanzas Written In Anticipation Of Defeat. | Go seek for some abler defenders of wrong, | 1828 | 36 | 248 |
| 533: | Stanzas. | A beam of tranquillity smiled in the west, | | 28 | 879 |
| 534: | Still Thou Fliest. | Still thou fliest, and still I woo thee, | | 16 | 290 |
| 535: | Still When Daylight. | Still when daylight o'er the wave | | 20 | 212 |
| 536: | Still, Like Dew In Silence Falling. By Meleager. | Still, like dew in silence falling, | | 15 | 299 |
| 537: | Sublime Was The Warning. | Sublime was the warning that Liberty spoke, | | 32 | 292 |
| 538: | Sunday Ethics. A Scotch Ode. | Puir, profligate Londoners, having heard tell | | 30 | 285 |
| 539: | Sweet Innisfallen. | Sweet Innisfallen, fare thee well, | | 36 | 272 |
| 540: | Swiss Air.--"Ranz Des Vaches." | But wake, the trumpet's blast again, | | 12 | 289 |
| 541: | Sympathy. | Our hearts, my love, were formed to be | | 12 | 273 |
| 542: | Take Back The Virgin Page. | Take back the virgin page, | | 32 | 275 |
| 543: | Take Hence The Bowl. (Neapolitan Air.) | Take hence the bowl;--tho' beaming | | 16 | 310 |
| 544: | Tell Her, Oh, Tell Her. | Tell her, oh, tell her, the lute she left lying | | 12 | 278 |
| 545: | The "Living Dog" And "The Dead Lion." | Next week will be published (as "Lives" are the rage) | 1828 | 28 | 255 |
| 546: | The Annual Pill. | Vill nobodies try my nice Annual Pill, | | 30 | 235 |
| 547: | The Bird, Let Loose. (Air.--Beethoven.) | The bird, let loose in eastern skies, | | 16 | 239 |
| 548: | The Boy Of The Alps. | Lightly, Alpine rover, | | 30 | 280 |
| 549: | The Boy Statesman. By A Tory. | Ah, Tories dear, our ruin is near, | | 44 | 231 |
| 550: | The Brunswick Club. | Private,--Lord Belzebub presents | | 52 | 290 |
| 551: | The Canonization Of Saint Butterworth. | Canonize him!--yea, verily, we'll canonize him, | | 52 | 213 |
| 552: | The Catalogue. | Come, tell me," says Rosa, as kissing and kist, | | 42 | 280 |
| 553: | The Cherries. A Parable. | See those cherries, how they cover | 1838 | 40 | 223 |
| 554: | The Consultation. | Dr. Whig.--This wild Irish patient does pester me so. | 1833 | 51 | 231 |
| 555: | The Crystal-Hunters. (Swiss Air.) | O'er mountains bright | | 33 | 277 |
| 556: | The Dance Of Bishops; Or, The Episcopal Quadrille.[1] A Dream. | I've had such a dream--a frightful dream | 1833 | 72 | 286 |
| 557: | The Dawn Is Breaking O'er Us. | The dawn is breaking o'er us, | | 36 | 291 |
| 558: | The Day Of Love. | The beam of morning trembling | | 15 | 278 |
| 559: | The Day-Dream. | They both were husht, the voice, the chords, | | 48 | 277 |
| 560: | The Devil Among The Scholars, A Fragment. | But, whither have these gentle ones, | | 145 | 314 |
| 561: | The Donkey And His Panniers. A Fable. | A donkey whose talent for burdens was wondrous, | 1826 | 36 | 261 |
| 562: | The Dream Of Home. | Who has not felt how sadly sweet | | 16 | 261 |
| 563: | The Dream Of The Two Sisters. From Dante. | Twas eve's soft hour, and bright, above. | | 40 | 282 |
| 564: | The Dream Of Those Days. | The dream of those days when first I sung thee is o'er, | | 12 | 284 |
| 565: | The Duke Is The Lad. | The Duke is the lad to frighten a lass. | | 18 | 257 |
| 566: | The Dying Warrior. | A wounded Chieftain, lying | | 25 | 327 |
| 567: | The East Indian. | Come, May, with all thy flowers, | | 24 | 278 |
| 568: | The Euthanasia Of Van. | Stop, Intellect, in mercy stop, | | 40 | 281 |
| 569: | The Evening Gun. | Remember'st thou that setting sun, | | 16 | 266 |
| 570: | The Exile. | Night waneth fast, the morning star | | 16 | 310 |
| 571: | The Fall Of Hebe. A Dithyrambic Ode. | Twas on a day | | 163 | 275 |
| 572: | The Fancy Fair. | Come, maids and youths, for here we sell | | 25 | 260 |
| 573: | The Fortune-Teller. | Down in the valley come meet me to-night, | | 24 | 301 |
| 574: | The Fudge Family In Paris Letter I. From Miss Biddy Fudge To Miss Dorothy ----, Of Clonkilty, In Ireland. | Dear DOLL, while the tails of our horses are plaiting, | | 117 | 285 |
| 575: | The Fudge Family In Paris Letter II. From Phil. Fudge, Esq., To The Lord Viscount Castlereagh. | At length, my Lord, I have the bliss | | 140 | 317 |
| 576: | The Fudge Family In Paris Letter III. From Mr. Bob Fudge To Richard ----, Esq. | Oh Dick! you may talk of your writing and reading, | | 101 | 257 |
| 577: | The Fudge Family In Paris Letter IV. From Phelim Connor To ---- | Return!"--no, never, while the withering hand | | 120 | 321 |
| 578: | The Fudge Family In Paris Letter IX. Prom Phil. Fudge, Esq., To The Lord Viscount Castlereagh. | My Lord, the Instructions, brought to-day, | | 308 | 266 |
| 579: | The Fudge Family In Paris Letter V. From Miss Biddy Fudge To Miss Dorothy ----. | What a time since I wrote!--I'm a sad, naughty girl | | 149 | 261 |
| 580: | The Fudge Family In Paris Letter VI. From Phil. Fudge, Esq., To His Brother Tim Fudge, Esq., Barrister At Law. | Yours of the 12th received, just now | | 229 | 292 |
| 581: | The Fudge Family In Paris Letter VII. From Phelim Connor To--. | Before we sketch the Present--let us cast | | 163 | 265 |
| 582: | The Fudge Family In Paris Letter VIII. From Mr. Bob Fudge To Richard ----, Esq. | Dear DICK, while old DONALDSON'S[1] mending my stays, | | 132 | 230 |
| 583: | The Fudge Family In Paris Letter X. From Miss Biddy Fudge To Miss Dorothy ----. | Well, it isn't the King, after all, my dear creature! | | 142 | 316 |
| 584: | The Fudge Family In Paris Letter XI. From Phelim Connor To ----. | Yes, 'twas a cause, as noble and as great | | 50 | 302 |
| 585: | The Fudge Family In Paris Letter XII. From Miss Biddy Fudge To Miss Dorothy ----. | At last, DOLLY,--thanks to potent emetic, | | 183 | 275 |
| 586: | The Fudges In England. Letter I. From Patrick Magan, Esq., To The Rev. Richard ----; Curate Of ----, In Ireland. | Who d' ye think we've got here?--quite reformed from the giddy. | | 96 | 275 |
| 587: | The Fudges In England. Letter II. From Miss Biddy Fudge To Mrs. Elizabeth ----. | Just in time for the post, dear, and monstrously busy, | | 169 | 258 |
| 588: | The Fudges In England. Letter III. From Miss Fanny Fudge, To Her Cousin, Miss Kitty ----. | Dark comrade of my path! while earth and sky | | 157 | 274 |
| 589: | The Fudges In England. Letter IV. From Patrick Magan, Esq., To The Rev. Richard ----. | He comes from Erin's speechful shore | | 120 | 242 |
| 590: | The Fudges In England. Letter IX. From Larry O'Branigan, To His Wife Judy. | As it was but last week that I sint you a letther, | | 125 | 308 |
| 591: | The Fudges In England. Letter V. From Larry O'Branigan, In England, To His Wife Judy, At Mullinafad. | Dear Judy, I sind you this bit of a letther, | | 126 | 296 |
| 592: | The Fudges In England. Letter VI. From Miss Biddy Fudge, To Mrs. Elizabeth ----. | How I grieve you're not with us!--pray, come, if you can, | | 194 | 235 |
| 593: | The Fudges In England. Letter VII. From Miss Fanny Fudge, To Her Cousin, Miss Kitty ----. | Bring me the slumbering souls of flowers, | | 124 | 303 |
| 594: | The Fudges In England. Letter VIII. From Bob Fudge, Esq., To The Rev. Mortimer O'Mulligan. | I much regret, dear Reverend Sir, | | 124 | 291 |
| 595: | The Fudges In England. Letter X. From The Rev. Mortimer O'Mulligan, To The Rev. ----. | These few brief lines, my reverend friend, | | 119 | 283 |
| 596: | The Fudges In England. Letter XI. From Patrick Magan, Esq., To The Rev. Richard ----. ------, Ireland. | Dear Dick--just arrived at my own humblegîte, | | 68 | 285 |
| 597: | The Garland I Send Thee. | The Garland I send thee was culled from those bowers | | 12 | 243 |
| 598: | The Gazelle. | Dost thou not hear the silver bell, | | 24 | 301 |
| 599: | The Genius Of Harmony. An Irregular Ode. | There lies a shell beneath the waves, | | 113 | 300 |
| 600: | The Ghost Of Miltiades. | The Ghost of Miltiades came at night, | | 58 | 268 |
| 601: | The Grecian Girl's Dream Of The Blessed Islands.[1] | Was it the moon, or was it morning's ray, | | 94 | 247 |
| 602: | The Halcyon Hangs O'er Ocean. | The halcyon hangs o'er ocean, | | 12 | 243 |
| 603: | The Harp That Once Thro' Tara's Halls. | The harp that once thro' Tara's halls | | 16 | 277 |
| 604: | The High-Born Ladye. | In vain all the Knights to the Underwald wooed her, | | 32 | 279 |
| 605: | The Homeward March. | Be still my heart: I hear them come: | | 28 | 288 |
| 606: | The Indian Boat. | Twas midnight dark, | | 48 | 249 |
| 607: | The Insurrection Of The Papers. A Dream. | Last night I tost and turned in bed, | | 53 | 236 |
| 608: | The Irish Peasant To His Mistress.[1] | Thro' grief and thro' danger thy smile hath cheered my way, | | 18 | 265 |
| 609: | The Irish Slave. | I heard as I lay, a wailing sound, | 1827 | 60 | 324 |
| 610: | The Kiss. | Grow to my lip, thou sacred kiss, | | 18 | 347 |
| 611: | The Lake Of The Dismal Swamp. A Ballad. | They made her a grave, too cold and damp | | 40 | 290 |
| 612: | The Language Of Flowers. | Fly swift, my light gazelle, | | 24 | 319 |
| 613: | The Leaf And The Fountain. | Tell me, kind Seer, I pray thee, | | 55 | 313 |
| 614: | The Legacy. | When in death I shall calmly recline, | | 24 | 261 |
| 615: | The Legend Of Puck The Fairy. | Wouldst know what tricks, by the pale moonlight, | | 22 | 270 |
| 616: | The Light Of The Haram. | Who has not heard of the Vale of CASHMERE, | | 743 | 351 |
| 617: | The Limbo Of Lost Reputations. A Dream. | Knowest thou not him the poet sings, | 1828 | 68 | 280 |
| 618: | The Loves Of The Angels. | Twas when the world was in its prime, | | 1908 | 280 |
| 619: | The Mad Tory And The Comet. | Tho' all the pet mischiefs we count upon fail, | 1833 | 48 | 294 |
| 620: | The Magic Mirror. | Come, if thy magic Glass have power | | 32 | 265 |
| 621: | The Meeting Of The Ships. | When o'er the silent seas alone, | | 12 | 261 |
| 622: | The Meeting Of The Waters.[1] | There is not in the wide world a valley so sweet | | 16 | 291 |
| 623: | The Millennium. | A millennium at hand!--I'm delighted to hear it | 1826 | 36 | 264 |
| 624: | The Minstrel-Boy. | The Minstrel-Boy to the war is gone, | | 16 | 252 |
| 625: | The Mountain Sprite. | In yonder valley there dwelt, alone, | | 28 | 277 |
| 626: | The Musical Box. | Look here," said Rose, with laughing eyes, | | 26 | 348 |
| 627: | The Natal Genius. A Dream | In witching slumbers of the night, | | 30 | 247 |
| 628: | The New Costume Of The Ministers. | Having sent off the troops of brave Major Camac, | | 37 | 264 |
| 629: | The Night Dance. | Strike the gay harp! see the moon is on high, | | 22 | 297 |
| 630: | The Numbering Of The Clergy. | Come, give us more Livings and Rectors, | | 24 | 222 |
| 631: | The Origin Of The Harp. | Tis believed that this Harp, which I wake now for thee, | | 16 | 252 |
| 632: | The Parallel. | Yes, sad one of Sion,[1] if closely resembling, | | 28 | 274 |
| 633: | The Parting Before The Battle. | On to the field, our doom is sealed, | | 12 | 232 |
| 634: | The Periwinkles And The Locusts. A Salmagundian Hymn. | Hurra! hurra!" I heard them say, | | 46 | 259 |
| 635: | The Petition Of The Orangemen Of Ireland. | To the people of England, the humble Petition | 1826 | 50 | 265 |
| 636: | The Philosopher Aristippus[1] To A Lamp Which Had Been Given Him By Lais. | Oh! love the Lamp" (my Mistress said), | | 95 | 238 |
| 637: | The Pilgrim. | Still thus, when twilight gleamed, | | 28 | 328 |
| 638: | The Pretty Rose-Tree. | Being weary of love, | | 28 | 303 |
| 639: | The Prince's Day.[1] | Tho' dark are our sorrows, to-day we'll forget them, | | 39 | 288 |
| 640: | The Rector And His Curate; Or, One Pound Two. | The account is balanced--the bill drawn out, | | 16 | 270 |
| 641: | The Resemblance. | Yes, if 'twere any common love, | | 16 | 234 |
| 642: | The Reverend Pamphleteer. A Romantic Ballad. | Oh, have you heard what hapt of late? | | 44 | 270 |
| 643: | The Ring. | No--Lady! Lady! keep the ring: | | 56 | 281 |
| 644: | The Ring[1] A Tale | The happy day at length arrived | | 248 | 297 |
| 645: | The Russian Lover. | Fleetly o'er the moonlight snows | | 24 | 279 |
| 646: | The Sale Of Loves. | I dreamt that, in the Paphian groves, | | 51 | 298 |
| 647: | The Sale Of The Tools. | Here's a choice set of Tools for you, Ge'mmen and Ladies, | | 49 | 268 |
| 648: | The Sceptic, A Philosophical Satire. | As the gay tint that decks the vernal rose[1] | | 144 | 316 |
| 649: | The Shield. | Say, did you not hear a voice of death! | | 24 | 238 |
| 650: | The Shrine. To ....... | My fates had destined me to rove | | 14 | 270 |
| 651: | The Sinking Fund Cried. | Take your bell, take your bell, | | 42 | 233 |
| 652: | The Snake. | My love and I, the other day, | | 20 | 271 |
| 653: | The Snow Spirit. | No, ne'er did the wave in its element steep | | 94 | 317 |
| 654: | The Song Of Fionnuala.[1] | Silent, oh Moyle, be the roar of thy water, | | 16 | 340 |
| 655: | The Song Of O'Ruark, Prince Of Breffni.[1] | The valley lay smiling before me, | | 32 | 233 |
| 656: | The Song Of The Box. | Let History boast of her Romans and Spartans, | | 40 | 320 |
| 657: | The Song Of The Olden Time. | There's a song of the olden time, | | 24 | 270 |
| 658: | The Steerman's Song, | When freshly blows the northern gale, | | 27 | 255 |
| 659: | The Stranger. | Come list, while I tell of the heart-wounded Stranger | | 32 | 259 |
| 660: | The Summer Fête. | Where are ye now, ye summer days, | | 951 | 317 |
| 661: | The Summer Webs. | The summer webs that float and shine, | | 16 | 255 |
| 662: | The Surprise. | Chloris, I swear, by all I ever swore, | | 5 | 292 |
| 663: | The Sylph's Ball. | A sylph, as bright as ever sported | | 96 | 340 |
| 664: | The Tear. | On beds of snow the moonbeam slept, | | 12 | 312 |
| 665: | The Tell-Tale Lyre. | I've heard, there was in ancient days | | 68 | 291 |
| 666: | The Three Doctors. | Tho' many great Doctors there be, | | 36 | 259 |
| 667: | The Time I've Lost In Wooing. | The time I've lost in wooing, | | 30 | 263 |
| 668: | The Triumphs Of Farce. | Our earth, as it rolls thro' the regions of space, | | 36 | 281 |
| 669: | The Turf Shall Be My Fragrant Shrine. (Air.--Stevenson.) | The turf shall be my fragrant shrine; | | 28 | 273 |
| 670: | The Two Loves. | There are two Loves, the poet sings, | | 45 | 274 |
| 671: | The Valley Of The Nile. | Far as the sight can reach, beneath as clear | | 32 | 272 |
| 672: | The Voice. | It came o'er her sleep, like a voice of those days, | | 28 | 278 |
| 673: | The Wandering Bard. | What life like that of the bard can be | | 36 | 289 |
| 674: | The Watchman. | Past twelve o'clock--past twelve. | | 28 | 260 |
| 675: | The Wellington Spa. | Talk no more of your Cheltenham and Harrowgate springs, | 1829 | 24 | 285 |
| 676: | The Wine-Cup Is Circling. | The wine-cup is circling in Almhin's hall, | | 30 | 283 |
| 677: | The Wonder. | Come, tell me where the maid is found. | | 16 | 280 |
| 678: | The World Was Husht. | The world was husht, the moon above | | 24 | 244 |
| 679: | The Wreath And The Chain. | I bring thee, love, a golden chain, | | 46 | 262 |
| 680: | The Young Indian Maid. | There came a nymph dancing | | 20 | 289 |
| 681: | The Young May Moon. | The young May moon is beaming, love, | | 20 | 205 |
| 682: | The Young Muleteers Of Grenada. | Oh, the joys of our evening posada, | | 21 | 282 |
| 683: | The Young Rose. | The young rose I give thee, so dewy and bright, | | 8 | 301 |
| 684: | Thee, Thee, Only Thee. | The dawning of morn, the daylight's sinking, | | 24 | 254 |
| 685: | Then First From Love. | Then first from Love, in Nature's bowers, | | 16 | 221 |
| 686: | Then, Fare Thee Well. (Old English Air.) | Then, fare thee well, my own dear love, | | 30 | 275 |
| 687: | There Are Sounds Of Mirth. | There are sounds of mirth in the night-air ringing, | | 24 | 307 |
| 688: | There Comes A Time. (German Air.) | There comes a time, a dreary time, | | 16 | 258 |
| 689: | There Is A Bleak Desert. (Air.--Crescentini.) | There is a bleak Desert, where daylight grows weary | | 20 | 252 |
| 690: | There's Something Strange. A Buffalo Song. | There's something strange, I know not what, | | 24 | 304 |
| 691: | They Know Not My Heart. | They know not my heart, who believe there can be | | 12 | 258 |
| 692: | They May Rail At This Life. | They may rail at this life--from the hour I began it, | | 32 | 249 |
| 693: | They Met But Once. | They met but once, in youth's sweet hour, | | 24 | 260 |
| 694: | They Tell Me Thou'rt The Favored Guest. | They tell me thou'rt the favored guest | | 18 | 281 |
| 695: | This Life Is All Checkered With Pleasures And Woes | This life is all checkered with pleasures and woes, | | 24 | 296 |
| 696: | This World Is All A Fleeting Show. (Air.--Stevenson.) | This world is all a fleeting show, | | 15 | 264 |
| 697: | Tho' 'Tis All But A Dream. (French Air.) | Tho' 'tis all but a dream at the best, | | 22 | 271 |
| 698: | Tho' Humble The Banquet. | Tho' humble the banquet to which I invite thee, | | 20 | 253 |
| 699: | Tho' Lightly Sounds The Song I Sing. A Song Of The Alps. | Tho' lightly sounds the song I sing to thee, | | 16 | 250 |
| 700: | Tho' The Last Glimpse Of Erin With Sorrow I See. | Tho' the last glimpse of Erin with sorrow I see, | | 12 | 246 |
| 701: | Those Evening Bells. (Air.--The Bells Of St. Petersburgh.) | Those evening bells! those evening bells! | | 12 | 306 |
| 702: | Thou Art, O God. | Thou art, O God, the life and light | | 24 | 284 |
| 703: | Thou Bidst Me Sing. | Thou bidst me sing the lay I sung to thee | | 16 | 261 |
| 704: | Thou Lovest No More. | Too plain, alas, my doom is spoken | | 16 | 271 |
| 705: | Thoughts On Mischief. | How various are the inspirations | | 72 | 258 |
| 706: | Thoughts On Patrons, Puffs, And Other Matters. In An Epistle From Thomas Moore To Samuel Rogers. | What, thou, my friend! a man of rhymes, | | 103 | 272 |
| 707: | Thoughts On Tar Barrels. | What a pleasing contrivance! how aptly devised | 1832 | 20 | 295 |
| 708: | Thoughts On The Late Destructive Propositions Of The Tories.[1] By A Common-Councilman. | I sat me down in my easy chair, | 1835 | 58 | 268 |
| 709: | Thoughts On The Present Government Of Ireland. | Oft have I seen, in gay, equestrian pride, | 1828 | 31 | 259 |
| 710: | Tibullus To Sulpicia. | Never shall woman's smile have power | | 24 | 251 |
| 711: | Tis All For Thee. | If life for me hath joy or light, | | 24 | 304 |
| 712: | Tis Gone, And For Ever. | Tis gone, and for ever, the light we saw breaking, | | 24 | 254 |
| 713: | Tis Sweet To Think. | Tis sweet to think, that, where'er we rove, | | 24 | 271 |
| 714: | Tis The Last Rose Of Summer. | Tis the last rose of summer | | 24 | 277 |
| 715: | To ....... | With all my soul, then, let us part, | | 16 | 305 |
| 716: | To .... .... | Never mind how the pedagogue proses, | | 28 | 252 |
| 717: | To .... .... | The world has just begun to steal | | 32 | 241 |
| 718: | To .... .... | Die when you will, you need not wear | | 6 | 264 |
| 719: | To .... .... | And hast thou marked the pensive shade, | | 36 | 295 |
| 720: | To .... .... On Seeing Her With A White Veil And A Rich Girdle. | Put off the vestal Veil, nor, oh! | | 8 | 267 |
| 721: | To ....... | Remember him thou leavest behind, | | 40 | 301 |
| 722: | To ....... | That wrinkle, when first I espied it, | | 12 | 272 |
| 723: | To ....... | When I loved you, I can't but allow | | 8 | 295 |
| 724: | To ....... | Sweet lady, look not thus again: | | 20 | 320 |
| 725: | To ....... | Tis time, I feel, to leave thee now, | | 28 | 228 |
| 726: | To ....... | Come, take thy harp--'tis vain to muse | | 24 | 302 |
| 727: | To .......'s Picture. | Go then, if she, whose shade thou art, | | 16 | 267 |
| 728: | To ......., 1801. | To be the theme of every hour | | 36 | 273 |
| 729: | To A Boy, With A Watch, Written For A Friend | Is it not sweet, beloved youth, | | 20 | 269 |
| 730: | To A Lady, With Some Manuscript Poems, On Leaving The Country. | When, casting many a look behind, | | 32 | 277 |
| 731: | To A Lady. On Her Singing. | Thy song has taught my heart to feel | | 16 | 259 |
| 732: | To Cara, After An Interval Of Absence. | Concealed within the shady wood | | 40 | 301 |
| 733: | To Cara, On The Dawning Of A New Year's Day. | When midnight came to close the year, | | 18 | 296 |
| 734: | To Caroline, Viscountess Valletort. | When I would sing thy beauty's light, | | 45 | 225 |
| 735: | To Cloe. Imitated From Martial. | I could resign that eye of blue. | | 12 | 289 |
| 736: | To Francis, Earl Of Moira. | I am, my Lord, | | 9 | 229 |
| 737: | To George Morgan, Esq. Of Norfolk, Virginia. | Oh, what a sea of storm we've past! | | 104 | 253 |
| 738: | To His Serene Highness The Duke Of Montpensier On His Portrait Of The Lady Adelaide Forbes. | To catch the thought, by painting's spell, | | 29 | 228 |
| 739: | To James Corry, Esq. On His Making Me A Present Of A Wine Strainer. | This life, dear Corry, who can doubt? | | 20 | 286 |
| 740: | To Joseph Atkinson, Esq. | The daylight is gone--but, before we depart, | | 58 | 277 |
| 741: | To Julia Weeping. | Oh! if your tears are given to care, | | 8 | 244 |
| 742: | To Julia. | Mock me no more with Love's beguiling dream, | | 16 | 278 |
| 743: | To Julia. | Though Fate, my girl, may bid us part, | | 24 | 289 |
| 744: | To Julia. | I saw the peasant's hand unkind | | 12 | 261 |
| 745: | To Julia. In Allusion To Some Illiberal Criticisms. | Why, let the stingless critic chide | | 28 | 276 |
| 746: | To Julia. On Her Birthday. | When Time was entwining the garland of years, | | 8 | 256 |
| 747: | To Ladies' Eyes. | To Ladies' eyes around, boy, | | 36 | 242 |
| 748: | To Lady Heathcote, On An Old Ring Found At Tunbridge-Wells. | When Grammont graced these happy springs, | | 56 | 287 |
| 749: | To Lady Holland. On Napoleon's Legacy Op A Snuff-Box. | Gift of the Hero, on his dying day, | | 6 | 324 |
| 750: | To Lady Jersey. On Being Asked To Write Something In Her Album. | Oh albums, albums, how I dread | | 15 | 239 |
| 751: | To Lord Viscount Strangford. | Sweet Moon! if, like Crotona's sage, | | 88 | 241 |
| 752: | To Miss ....... On Her Asking The Author Why She Had Sleepless Nights. | I'll ask the sylph who round thee flies, | | 20 | 254 |
| 753: | To Miss Moore. From Norfolk, In Virginia, November, 1803. | In days, my Kate, when life was new, | | 134 | 297 |
| 754: | To Miss Susan Beckford.[1] On Her Singing. | I more than once have heard at night | | 32 | 218 |
| 755: | To Mrs,---. On Her Beautiful Translation Of Voiture's Kiss. | How heavenly was the poet's doom, | | 8 | 296 |
| 756: | To Mrs. ....... | To see thee every day that came, | | 24 | 272 |
| 757: | To Mrs. ....... On Some Calumnies Against Her Character. | Is not thy mind a gentle mind? | | 18 | 241 |
| 758: | To Mrs. Bl----. | They say that Love had once a book | | 60 | 260 |
| 759: | To Mrs. Henry Tighe, On Reading Her "Psyche." | Tell me the witching tale again, | | 44 | 291 |
| 760: | To My Mother. | They tell us of an Indian tree, | | 12 | 252 |
| 761: | To Phillis. | Phillis, you little rosy rake, | | 4 | 264 |
| 762: | To Rosa. | Is the song of Rosa mute? | | 16 | 224 |
| 763: | To Rosa. | Like one who trusts to summer skies, | | 8 | 276 |
| 764: | To Rosa. | Say, why should the girl of my soul be in tears | | 12 | 270 |
| 765: | To Rosa. | And are you then a thing of art, | | 16 | 288 |
| 766: | To Rosa. Written During Illness. | The wisest soul, by anguish torn, | | 32 | 303 |
| 767: | To Sir Hudson Lowe. | Sir Hudson Lowe, Sir Hudson Low, | 1816 | 29 | 258 |
| 768: | To The Book Of Follies. | This tribute's from a wretched elf, | | 30 | 248 |
| 769: | To The Boston Frigate, On Leaving Halifax For England,[1] October, 1804. | With triumph, this morning, oh Boston! I hail | | 56 | 268 |
| 770: | To The Fire-Fly.[1] | At morning, when the earth and sky | | 12 | 312 |
| 771: | To The Flying-Fish.[1] | When I have seen thy snow-white wing | | 32 | 284 |
| 772: | To The Honorable W. R. Spencer. | Thou oft hast told me of the happy hours | | 122 | 259 |
| 773: | To The Invisible Girl. | They try to persuade me, my dear little sprite, | | 62 | 269 |
| 774: | To The Lady Charlotte Rawdon. | Not many months have now been dreamed away | | 182 | 284 |
| 775: | To The Large And Beautiful Miss......, | In wedlock a species of lottery lies, | | 8 | 273 |
| 776: | To The Lord Viscount Forbes. | If former times had never left a trace | | 184 | 343 |
| 777: | To The Marchioness Dowager Of Donegall. | Lady! where'er you roam, whatever land | | 98 | 318 |
| 778: | To The Rev. Charles Overton, Curate Of Romaldkirk. | Sweet singer of Romaldkirk, thou who art reckoned, | 1833 | 30 | 319 |
| 779: | To The Reverend ----. One Of The Sixteen Requisitionists Of Nottingham. | What, you, too, my ******, in hashes so knowing, | 1828 | 36 | 236 |
| 780: | To The Same. On Looking Through Her Album. | No wonder bards, both high and low, | | 8 | 261 |
| 781: | To The Ship In Which Lord Castlereagh Sailed For The Continent. | So may my Lady's prayers prevail, | | 48 | 230 |
| 782: | To Thomas Hume, Esq., M. D. | Tis evening now; beneath the western star | | 100 | 292 |
| 783: | To Weave A Garland For The Rose. By Paul, The Silentiary. | To weave a garland for the rose. | | 24 | 322 |
| 784: | To-Day, Dearest! Is Ours. | To-day, dearest! is ours; | | 16 | 244 |
| 785: | Tory Pledges. | I pledge myself thro' thick and thin, | | 52 | 234 |
| 786: | Tout Pour La Tripe. | Come take my advice, never trouble your cranium, | 1827 | 24 | 216 |
| 787: | Translation From The Gull Language. | Twas graved on the Stone of Destiny, | 1833 | 62 | 214 |
| 788: | Translations From Catullus. Carm. 29. | Sweet Sirmio! thou, the very eye | | 24 | 276 |
| 789: | Translations From Catullus. Carm. 70. | Thou told'st me, in our days of love, | | 16 | 225 |
| 790: | Translations From Catullus. Carm. II. | Comrades and friends! with whom, where'er | | 12 | 376 |
| 791: | Triumph Of Bigotry. | Ay, yoke ye to the bigots' car, | 1832 | 35 | 288 |
| 792: | Twas One Of Those Dreams.[1] | Twas one of those dreams, that by music are brought, | | 24 | 228 |
| 793: | Twin'St Thou With Lofty Wreath Thy Brow? By Paul, The Silentiary. | Twin'st thou with lofty wreath thy brow? | | 24 | 263 |
| 794: | Twopenny Post-Bag, Intercepted Letters, Etc. Appendix. | by Ilissus' stream | | 141 | 251 |
| 795: | Twopenny Post-Bag, Intercepted Letters, Etc. Letter I. | My dear Lady Bab, you'll be shockt I'm afraid, | | 69 | 264 |
| 796: | Twopenny Post-Bag, Intercepted Letters, Etc. Letter II. | I've just had time to look | | 96 | 291 |
| 797: | Twopenny Post-Bag, Intercepted Letters, Etc. Letter III. | We missed you last night at the "hoary old sinner's," | | 58 | 223 |
| 798: | Twopenny Post-Bag, Intercepted Letters, Etc. Letter IV. | Last week, dear Nichol, making merry | | 72 | 236 |
| 799: | Twopenny Post-Bag, Intercepted Letters, Etc. Letter V. | My dear Lady---! I've been just sending out | | 56 | 289 |
| 800: | Twopenny Post-Bag, Intercepted Letters, Etc. Letter VI. | Whilst thou, Mohassan, (happy thou!) | | 88 | 227 |
| 801: | Twopenny Post-Bag, Intercepted Letters, Etc. Letter VII. | Per Post, Sir, we send your MS.--look it thro' | | 46 | 269 |
| 802: | Twopenny Post-Bag, Intercepted Letters, Etc. Letter VIII. | Come to our Fête and bring with thee | | 97 | 249 |
| 803: | Unbind Thee, Love. | Unbind thee, love, unbind thee, love, | | 16 | 332 |
| 804: | Up, Sailor Boy, 'Tis Day. | Up, sailor boy, 'tis day! | | 24 | 295 |
| 805: | Variety. | Ask what prevailing, pleasing power | | 16 | 363 |
| 806: | Verses To The Poet Crabbe's Inkstand. | All, as he left it!--even the pen, | | 76 | 285 |
| 807: | Wake Thee, My Dear. | Wake thee, my dear--thy dreaming | | 20 | 329 |
| 808: | Wake Up, Sweet Melody. | Wake up, sweet melody! | | 20 | 366 |
| 809: | War Against Babylon. (Air.--Novello.) | War against Babylon!" shout we around, | | 18 | 257 |
| 810: | War Song. Remember The Glories Of Brien The Brave.[1] | Remember the glories of Brien the brave, | | 24 | 310 |
| 811: | We May Roam Through This World. | We may roam thro' this world, like a child at a feast, | | 36 | 295 |
| 812: | Weep Not For Those. (Air.--Avison.) | Weep not for those whom the veil of the tomb, | | 24 | 279 |
| 813: | Weep On, Weep On. | Weep on, weep on, your hour is past; | | 24 | 298 |
| 814: | Weep, Children Of Israel. (Air.--Stevenson.) | Weep, weep for him, the Man of God | | 20 | 228 |
| 815: | Were Not The Sinful Mary's Tears. (Air.--Stevenson.) | Were not the sinful Mary's tears | | 20 | 281 |
| 816: | What Shall I Sing Thee? | What shall I sing thee? Shall I tell | | 29 | 261 |
| 817: | What The Bee Is To The Floweret. | What the bee is to the floweret, | | 20 | 299 |
| 818: | What's My Thought Like? | Quest. Why is a Pump like Viscount Castlereagh? | | 5 | 285 |
| 819: | When Abroad In The World. | When abroad in the world thou appearest. | | 24 | 270 |
| 820: | When Cold In The Earth. | When cold in the earth lies the friend thou hast loved, | | 24 | 243 |
| 821: | When First I Met Thee. | When first I met thee, warm and young, | | 48 | 254 |
| 822: | When First That Smile. (Venetian Air.) | When first that smile, like sunshine, blest my sight, | | 16 | 233 |
| 823: | When He, Who Adores Thee. | When he, who adores thee, has left but the name | | 16 | 254 |
| 824: | When Love Is Kind. | When Love is kind, | | 24 | 295 |
| 825: | When Love Was A Child (Swedish Air.) | When Love was a child, and went idling round, | | 20 | 287 |
| 826: | When Love, Who Ruled. | [1] "To Bring-to, to check the course of a ship."--Falconer. | | 60 | 286 |
| 827: | When Midst The Gay I Meet. | When midst the gay I meet | | 24 | 311 |
| 828: | When Night Brings The Hour. | When night brings the hour | | 32 | 260 |
| 829: | When On The Lip The Sigh Delays. | When on the lip the sigh delays, | | 24 | 261 |
| 830: | When The First Summer Bee. (German Air.) | When the first summer bee | | 14 | 252 |
| 831: | When The Sad Word. By Paul, The Silentiary. | When the sad word, "Adieu," from my lip is nigh falling, | | 16 | 255 |
| 832: | When The Wine-Cup Is Smiling. (Italian Air.) | When the wine-cup is smiling before us, | | 16 | 283 |
| 833: | When Thou Art Nigh. | When thou art nigh, it seems | | 16 | 289 |
| 834: | When Thou Shalt Wander. (Sicilian Air.) | When thou shalt wander by that sweet light | | 12 | 260 |
| 835: | When Through The Piazzetta. (Venetian Air.) | When thro' the Piazzetta | | 16 | 279 |
| 836: | When To Sad Music Silent You Listen. | When to sad Music silent you listen, | | 16 | 297 |
| 837: | When Twilight Dews. | When twilight dews are falling soft | | 16 | 390 |
| 838: | Whene'er I See Those Smiling Eyes. | Whene'er I see those smiling eyes, | | 16 | 288 |
| 839: | Where Are The Visions. | Where are the visions that round me once hovered, | | 13 | 315 |
| 840: | Where Is The Slave. | Oh, where's the slave so lowly, | | 24 | 260 |
| 841: | Where Is Your Dwelling, Ye Sainted? (Air.--Hasse.) | Where is your dwelling, ye Sainted? | | 24 | 305 |
| 842: | Where Shall We Bury Our Shame? (Neapolitan Air.) | Where shall we bury our shame? | | 16 | 268 |
| 843: | While Gazing On The Moon's Light. | While gazing on the moon's light, | | 28 | 269 |
| 844: | While History's Muse. | While History's Muse the memorial was keeping | | 27 | 240 |
| 845: | Who Is The Maid? St. Jerome's Love. (Air.--Beethoven.) | Who is the Maid my spirit seeks, | | 24 | 283 |
| 846: | Who'll Buy My Love-Knots? (Portuguese Air.) | Hymen, late, his love-knots selling, | | 40 | 284 |
| 847: | Why Does She So Long Delay? By Paul, The Silentiary. | Why does she so long delay? | | 18 | 286 |
| 848: | Wind Thy Horn, My Hunter Boy. | Wind thy horn, my hunter boy, | | 14 | 266 |
| 849: | With Moonlight Beaming. | With moonlight beaming | | 20 | 281 |
| 850: | Wo! Wo! | Wo, wo unto him who would check or disturb it | | 40 | 239 |
| 851: | Woman. | Away, away--you're all the same, | | 16 | 258 |
| 852: | Wreath The Bowl. | Wreath the bowl | | 54 | 269 |
| 853: | Wreaths For The Ministers. An Anacreontic. | Hither, Flora, Queen of Flowers! | | 47 | 256 |
| 854: | Write On, Write On. A Ballad. | Write on, write on, ye Barons dear, | | 35 | 265 |
| 855: | Written In The Blank Leaf Of A Lady's Commonplace Book. | Here is one leaf reserved for me, | | 10 | 285 |
| 856: | Written On Passing Deadman's Island, In The Gulf Of St. Lawrence,[1] Late In The Evening, September, 1804. | See you, beneath yon cloud so dark, | | 24 | 300 |
| 857: | Yes, Yes, When The Bloom. | Yes, yes, when, the bloom of Love's boyhood is o'er, | | 10 | 290 |
| 858: | You Remember Ellen. | You remember Ellen, our hamlet's pride, | | 24 | 254 |
| 859: | Young Jessica. | Young Jessica sat all the day, | | 24 | 291 |
| 860: | Youth And Age. | Tell me, what's Love?" said Youth, one day, | | 24 | 311 |
