| | Poem Title | First Lines | Period | # Lines | # Reads |
| 1: | A Ballad Of The Trees And The Master | Into the woods my Master went, | | | 1546 |
| 2: | A Pastoral | Damon was sitting in the grove | | 10 | 429 |
| 3: | A Prophecy | Proud word you never spoke, but you will speak | | | 821 |
| 4: | A Thought | Blythe bell, that calls to bridal halls, | | | 928 |
| 5: | Absence | Here, ever since you went abroad, | | | 816 |
| 6: | Acon And Rhodope | The Year's twelve daughters had in turn gone by, | | | 760 |
| 7: | Advice | To write as your sweet mother does | | | 740 |
| 8: | Age | Death, tho' I see him not, is near | | 6 | 490 |
| 9: | Ah what avails the sceptred race, | Ah what avails the sceptred race, | | 8 | 488 |
| 10: | Alciphron And Leucippe | An ancient chestnut’s blossoms threw | | | 771 |
| 11: | An Invocation | We are what suns and winds and waters make us; | | | 776 |
| 12: | Autumn | Mild is the parting year, and sweet | | | 866 |
| 13: | Child Of A Day | Child of a day, thou knowest not | | | 814 |
| 14: | Corinna, From Athens, To Tanagra | Tanagra! think not I forget | | | 796 |
| 15: | Cowslips | With rosy hand a little girl press’d down | | | 836 |
| 16: | Daniel Defoe | Few will acknowledge what they owe | | 14 | 376 |
| 17: | Death Stands Above Me | Death stands above me, whispering low | | | 802 |
| 18: | Death Stands Above Me, Whispering Low | Death stands above me, whispering low | | | 847 |
| 19: | Death Undreaded | Death stands above me, whispering low | | | 790 |
| 20: | Defiance | Catch her and hold her if you can, | | | 861 |
| 21: | Dirce | Stand close around, ye Stygian set, | | | 827 |
| 22: | Do You Remember Me? Or Are You Proud? | Do you remember me? or are you proud? | | | 825 |
| 23: | Dying Speech Of An Old Philosopher | I strove with none, for none was worth my strife: | | | 832 |
| 24: | Faesulan Idyl | Here, where precipitate Spring with one light bound | | | 772 |
| 25: | Farewell To Italy | I Leave thee, beauteous Italy! no more | | | 881 |
| 26: | Fiesole Idyl | Here, where precipitate Spring, with one light bound | | 64 | 415 |
| 27: | Finis | I strove with none, for none was worth my strife. | | | 991 |
| 28: | For An Epitaph At Fiesole | Lo! where the four mimosas blend their shade | | | 825 |
| 29: | From "Myrtis" | Friends, whom she look’d at blandly from her couch | | | 786 |
| 30: | Fsulan Idyl | Here, where precipitate Spring with one light bound | | | 959 |
| 31: | Gebir | I sing the fates of Gebir. He had dwelt | | | 959 |
| 32: | God Scatters Beauty | God scatters beauty as he scatters flowers | | | 927 |
| 33: | Heartsease | There is a flower I wish to wear, | | | 940 |
| 34: | Here, ever since you went abroad, | Here, ever since you went abroad, | | 12 | 381 |
| 35: | How To Read Me | To turn my volumes o’er nor find | | | 755 |
| 36: | I Entreat You, Alfred Tennyson | I entreat you, Alfred Tennyson, | | | 807 |
| 37: | I Strove With None | I strove with none, for none was worth my strife. | | | 767 |
| 38: | Ianthe | From you, Ianthe, little troubles pass | | | 938 |
| 39: | Ianthe! You Are Call'd To Cross The Sea | Ianthe! you are call'd to cross the sea! | | | 710 |
| 40: | Ianthe's Question | Do you remember me? or are you proud?’ | | | 904 |
| 41: | Ianthe’s Troubles | Your pleasures spring like daisies in the grass, | | | 857 |
| 42: | Idle Words | They say that every idle word | | 6 | 414 |
| 43: | In After Time | No, my own love of other years! | | | 709 |
| 44: | In Spring And Summer Winds May Blow | In spring and summer winds may blow, | | | 1029 |
| 45: | Late Leaves | The leaves are falling; so am I; | | | 843 |
| 46: | Lately Our Poets | Lately our poets loiter'd in green lanes, | | | 925 |
| 47: | Leaf after leaf drops off, flower after flower, | Leaf after leaf drops off, flower after flower, | | 6 | 422 |
| 48: | Little Aglaë | Father! the little girl we see | | | 1013 |
| 49: | Macaulay | The dreamy rhymer’s measur’d snore | | | 1093 |
| 50: | Man | In his own image the Creator made, | | | 1101 |
| 51: | Memory | The mother of the Muses, we are taught, | | | 1093 |
| 52: | Mild Is The Parting Year | Mild is the parting year, and sweet | | | 723 |
| 53: | Mother, I Cannot Mind My Wheel | Mother, I cannot mind my wheel; | | | 722 |
| 54: | Of Clementina | In Clementina’s artless mien | | | 908 |
| 55: | On An Eclipse Of The Moon | Struggling, and faint, and fainter didst thou wane, | | | 904 |
| 56: | On Catullus | Tell me not what too well I know | | | 967 |
| 57: | On Himself | I strove with none, for none was worth my strife; | | | 948 |
| 58: | On His Eightieth Birthday | To my ninth decade I have tottered on, | | | 734 |
| 59: | On His Seventy-Fifth Birthday | I strove with none; for none was worth my strife, | | | 950 |
| 60: | On Living Too Long | Is it not better at an early hour | | | 945 |
| 61: | On Lucretia Borgia’s Hair | Borgia, thou once wert almost too august | | | 1020 |
| 62: | On Music | Many love music but for music’s sake; | | | 991 |
| 63: | On Seeing A Hair Of Lucretia Borgia | Borgia, thou once wert almost too august | | 4 | 406 |
| 64: | On The Death Of M. D’Ossoli And His Wife Margaret Fuller | Over his millions Death has lawful power, | | | 929 |
| 65: | Once, and once only, have I seen thy face, | Once, and once only, have I seen thy face, | | 9 | 362 |
| 66: | One Lovely Name | One lovely name adorns my song, | | | 1033 |
| 67: | Overture | Who will away to Athens with me? who | | | 967 |
| 68: | Past ruin'd Ilion Helen lives, | Past ruin'd Ilion Helen lives, | | 8 | 377 |
| 69: | Persistence | My hopes retire; my wishes as before | | | 1000 |
| 70: | Plays | Alas, how soon the hours are over | | | 1027 |
| 71: | Pleasure! why thus desert the heart | Pleasure! why thus desert the heart | | 8 | 410 |
| 72: | Proud Word You Never Spoke | Proud word you never spoke, but you will speak | | | 1035 |
| 73: | Quotations I | Wrong is but falsehood put in practice. | | | 861 |
| 74: | Quotations II | There is no easy path leading out of life, and few easy ones that lie within it. | | | 776 |
| 75: | Quotations III | No ashes are lighter than those of incense, and few things burn out sooner. | | | 776 |
| 76: | Quotations IV | Ambition is but avarice on stilts, and masked. | | | 816 |
| 77: | Quotations V | We think that we suffer from ingratitude, while in reality we suffer from self-love. | | | 929 |
| 78: | Quotations VI | My thoughts are my company; I can bring them together, select them, detain them, dismiss them. | | | 995 |
| 79: | Remain! | Remain, ah not in youth alone! | | | 946 |
| 80: | Rose Aylmer | Ah what avails the sceptred race, | | | 808 |
| 81: | Rose Aylmer’s Hair, Given By Her Sister | Beautiful spoils! borne off from vanquish’d death! | | | 757 |
| 82: | Separation | There is a mountain and a wood between us, | | | 760 |
| 83: | Shakespeare And Milton | The tongue of England, that which myriads | | | 824 |
| 84: | She I love (alas in vain!) | She I love (alas in vain!) | | 8 | 349 |
| 85: | Soon, O Lanthe! Life Is O'er | Soon, O Ianthe! life is o'er, | | | 768 |
| 86: | Tell me not things past all belief; | Tell me not things past all belief; | | 4 | 417 |
| 87: | Ternissa! you are fled! | Ternissa! you are fled! | | 12 | 375 |
| 88: | The Appeal | Remain, ah not in youth alone, | | | 777 |
| 89: | The Chrysolites And Rubies Bacchus Brings | The chrysolites and rubies Bacchus brings | | | 721 |
| 90: | The Death Of Artemidora | Artemidora! Gods invisible, | | | 849 |
| 91: | The Dragon-Fly | Life (priest and poet say) is but a dream; | | | 745 |
| 92: | The Evening Star | Smiles soon abate; the boisterous throes | | | 853 |
| 93: | The Fault Is Not Mine | The fault is not mine if I love you too much, | | | 765 |
| 94: | The gates of fame and of the grave | The gates of fame and of the grave | | 2 | 419 |
| 95: | The Hamadryad | Rhaicos was born amid the hills wherefrom | | | 790 |
| 96: | The Lover | Now thou art gone, tho' not gone far, | | 8 | 368 |
| 97: | The Maid's Lament | I loved him not; and yet, now he is gone, | | | 981 |
| 98: | The One White Hair | The wisest of the wise | | | 952 |
| 99: | The Poet Who Sleeps | One day, when I was young, I read | | 17 | 354 |
| 100: | The Test | I held her hand, the pledge of bliss, | | | 755 |
| 101: | The Three Roses | When the buds began to burst, | | | 751 |
| 102: | There Falls With Every Wedding Chime | There falls with every wedding chime | | | 1024 |
| 103: | Time To Be Wise | Yes; I write verses now and then, | | | 934 |
| 104: | To A Cyclamen | I come to visit thee agen, | | | 951 |
| 105: | To Age | Welcome, old friend! These many years | | | 939 |
| 106: | To Barry Cornwall | Barry! your spirit long ago | | 54 | 396 |
| 107: | To Charles Dickens | Go then to Italy; but mind | | 57 | 361 |
| 108: | To Lanthe | You smil’d, you spoke, and I believ’d, | | | 981 |
| 109: | To Robert Browning | There is delight in singing, tho' none hear | | | 957 |
| 110: | To Sleep | Come, Sleep! but mind ye! if you come without | | | 975 |
| 111: | To The River Avon | Avon! why runnest thou away so fast? | | 17 | 407 |
| 112: | To Wordsworth | Those who have laid the harp aside | | 71 | 339 |
| 113: | To Youth | Where art thou gone, light-ankled Youth? | | | 896 |
| 114: | To Zoe | Against the groaning mast I stand, | | | 1012 |
| 115: | Twenty Years Hence | Twenty years hence my eyes may grow | | | 917 |
| 116: | Various the roads of life; in one | Various the roads of life; in one | | 4 | 419 |
| 117: | Verse | Past ruin'd Ilion Helen lives, | | | 884 |
| 118: | Verses Why Burnt | How many verses have I thrown | | | 972 |
| 119: | Very True, The Linnets Sing | Very true, the linnets sing | | | 928 |
| 120: | Well I Remember How You Smiled | Well I remember how you smiled | | | 929 |
| 121: | Well I remember how you smiled | Well I remember how you smiled | | 8 | 391 |
| 122: | What News | Here, ever since you went abroad, | | | 745 |
| 123: | Who Ever Felt As I | Mother, I cannot mind my wheel; | | | 938 |
| 124: | Why, Why Repine | Why, why repine, my pensive friend, | | | 935 |
| 125: | With rosy hand a little girl prest down | With rosy hand a little girl prest down | | 9 | 354 |
| 126: | Wrinkles | When Helen first saw wrinkles in her face | | | 976 |
| 127: | Years | Years, many parti-colour’d years, | | | 907 |
| 128: | Yes; I write verses now and then, | Yes; I write verses now and then, | | 32 | 412 |
| 129: | You Smiled, You Spoke, And I Believed | You smiled, you spoke, and I believed, | | | 800 |
