| PAGE |
| A Chieftain to the Highlands bound | 211 |
| A child’s a plaything for an hour | 270 |
| A flock of sheep that leisurely pass by | 305 |
| A slumber did my spirit seal | 210 |
| A sweet disorder in the dress | 95 |
| A weary lot is thine, fair maid | 225 |
| A wet sheet and a flowing sea | 235 |
| Absence, hear thou this protestation | 8 |
| Ah, Chloris! could I now but sit | 86 |
| Ah! County Guy, the hour is nigh | 217 |
| All in the Downs the fleet was moor’d | 149 |
| All thoughts, all passions, all delights | 199 |
| And are ye sure the news is true | 181 |
| And is this—Yarrow?—This the Stream | 297 |
| And thou art dead, as young and fair | 231 |
| And wilt thou leave me thus | 26 |
| Ariel to Miranda:—Take | 288 |
| Art thou pale for weariness | 305 |
| Art thou poor, yet hast thou golden slumbers | 50 |
| As it fell upon a day | 27 |
| As I was walking all alane | 107 |
| As slow our ship her foamy track | 251 |
| At the corner of Wood Street, when daylight appears | 288 |
| At the mid hour of night, when stars are weeping, I fly | 230 |
| Avenge, O Lord! Thy slaughter’d saints, whose bones | 64 |
| Awake, Aeolian lyre, awake | 157 |
| Awake, awake, my Lyre | 101 |
| Bards of Passion and of Mirth | 197 |
| Beauty sat bathing by a spring | 13 |
| Behold her, single in the field | 287 |
| Being your slave, what should I do but tend | 9 |
| Beneath these fruit-tree boughs that shed | 277 |
| Best and brightest, come away | 299 |
| Bid me to live, and I will live | 97 |
| Blest pair of Sirens, pledges of Heaven’s joy | 125 |
| Blow, blow, thou winter wind | 34 |
| Bright Star! would I were steadfast as thou art | 228 |
| Call for the robin-redbreast and the wren | 41 |
| Calm was the day, and through the trembling air | 45 |
| Captain, or Colonel, or Knight in Arms | 75 |
| Care-charmer Sleep, son of the Sable Night | 28 |
| Come away, come away, Death | 38 |
| Come, cheerful day, part of my life to me | 51 |
| Come little babe, come silly soul | 35 |
| Come live with me and be my Love | 5 |
| Come, Sleep: O Sleep! the certain knot of peace | 24 |
| Come unto these yellow sands | 2 |
| Crabbed Age and Youth | 6 |
| Cupid and my Campaspe play’d | 44 |
| Cyriack, whose grandsire, on the royal bench | 80 |
| Daughter of Jove, relentless power | 188 |
| Daughter to that good Earl, once President | 89 |
| Degenerate Douglas! oh, the unworthy lord | 283 |
| Doth then the world go thus, doth all thus move | 54 |
| Down in yon garden sweet and gay | 147 |
| Drink to me only with thine eyes | 92 |
| Duncan Gray cam here to woo | 180 |
| Earl March look’d on his dying child | 228 |
| Earth has not anything to show more fair | 281 |
| E’en like two little bank-dividing brooks | 96 |
| Eternal Spirit of the chainless Mind | 240 |
| Ethereal minstrel! pilgrim of the sky | 273 |
| Ever let the Fancy roam | 310 |
| Fain would I change that note | 6 |
| Fair Daffodils, we weep to see | 111 |
| Fair pledges of a fruitful tree | 110 |
| Farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing | 25 |
| Fear no more the heat o’ the sun | 40 |
| Fine knacks for ladies, cheap, choice, brave and new | 22 |
| Follow thy fair sun, unhappy shadow | 30 |
| For ever, Fortune, wilt thou prove | 155 |
| Forget not yet the tried intent | 18 |
| Four Seasons fill the measure of the year | 339 |
| From Harmony, from heavenly Harmony | 63 |
| From Stirling Castle we had seen | 295 |
| Full fathom five thy father lies | 40 |
| Gather ye rose-buds while ye may | 87 |
| Gem of the crimson-colour’d Even | 218 |
| Get up, get up for shame! The blooming morn | 93 |
| Go fetch to me a pint o’ wine | 152 |
| Go, lovely Rose | 91 |
| Hail thou most sacred venerable thing | 128 |
| Hail to thee, blithe Spirit | 274 |
| Happy the man, whose wish and care | 136 |
| Happy those early days, when I | 78 |
| Happy were he could finish forth his fate | 55 |
| He that loves a rosy cheek | 90 |
| He is gone on the mountain | 264 |
| Hence, all you vain delights | 103 |
| Hence, loathéd Melancholy | 116 |
| Hence, vain deluding Joys | 120 |
| He sang of God, the mighty source | 164 |
| High-way, since you my chief Parnassus be | 9 |
| How happy is he born and taught | 76 |
| How like a winter hath my absence been | 10 |
| How sleep the brave who sink to rest | 144 |
| How sweet the answer Echo makes | 217 |
| How vainly men themselves amaze | 113 |
| I am monarch of all I survey | 190 |
| I arise from dreams of Thee | 205 |
| I cannot change, as others do | 87 |
| I dream’d that as I wander’d by the way | 307 |
| I fear thy kisses, gentle maiden | 208 |
| I have had playmates, I have had companions | 250 |
| I have no name | 165 |
| I heard a thousand blended notes | 312 |
| I meet thy pensive, moonlight face | 211 |
| I met a traveller from an antique land | 282 |
| I remember, I remember | 254 |
| I saw Eternity the other night | 129 |
| I saw her in childhood | 265 |
| I saw my lady weep | 19 |
| I saw where in the shroud did lurk | 268 |
| I travell’d among unknown men | 208 |
| I wander’d lonely as a cloud | 291 |
| I was thy neighbour once, thou rugged Pile | 327 |
| I wish I were where Helen lies | 106 |
| If aught of oaten stop or pastoral song | 170 |
| If doughty deeds my lady please | 153 |
| If I had thought thou couldst have died | 263 |
| If Thou survive my well-contented day | 41 |
| If to be absent were to be | 100 |
| I’m wearing awa’, Jean | 184 |
| In a drear-nighted December | 222 |
| In the downhill of life, when I find I’m declining | 195 |
| In the sweet shire of Cardigan | 248 |
| In this still place, remote from men | 329 |
| In Xanadu did Kubla Khan | 308 |
| It is a beauteous evening, calm and free | 303 |
| It is not growing like a tree | 77 |
| It was a dismal and a fearful night | 108 |
| It was a lover and his lass | 8 |
| It was a summer evening | 244 |
| I’ve heard them lilting at our ewe-milking | 145 |
| Jack and Joan, they think no ill | 115 |
| John Anderson my jo, John | 185 |
| Lady, when I behold the roses sprouting | 43 |
| Lawrence, of virtuous father virtuous son | 79 |
| Let me not to the marriage of true minds | 20 |
| Life! I know not what thou art | 196 |
| Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore | 25 |
| Like to the clear in highest sphere | 12 |
| Love in my bosom, like a bee | 43 |
| Love in thy youth, fair Maid, be wise | 90 |
| Love not me for comely grace | 98 |
| Lo! where the rosy-bosom’d Hours | 166 |
| Many a green isle needs must be | 320 |
| Mary! I want a lyre with other strings | 191 |
| Milton! thou shouldst be living at this hour | 242 |
| Mine be a cot beside the hill | 169 |
| Mortality, behold and fear | 73 |
| Most sweet it is with unuplifted eyes | 309 |
| Much have I travell’d in the realms of gold | 199 |
| Music, when soft voices die | 346 |
| My days among the Dead are past | 257 |
| My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains | 279 |
| My heart leaps up when I behold | 341 |
| My Love in her attire doth shew her wit | 96 |
| My lute, be as thou wert when thou didst grow | 39 |
| My thoughts hold mortal strife | 38 |
| My true-love hath my heart, and I have his | 20 |
| Never love unless you can | 16 |
| Never seek to tell thy love | 156 |
| No longer mourn for me when I am dead | 42 |
| Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note | 247 |
| Not, Celia, that I juster am | 98 |
| Now the golden Morn aloft | 133 |
| Now the last day of many days | 301 |
| O blithe new-comer! I have heard | 278 |
| O Brignall banks are wild and fair | 203 |
| O Friend! I know not which way I must look | 242 |
| O happy shades! to me unblest | 188 |
| O if thou knew’st how thou thyself dost harm | 18 |
| O leave this barren spot to me | 283 |
| O listen, listen, ladies gay | 266 |
| O lovers’ eyes are sharp to see | 227 |
| O Mary, at thy window be | 175 |
| O me! what eyes hath love put in my head | 31 |
| O Mistress mine, where are you roaming | 22 |
| O my Luve’s like a red, red rose | 177 |
| O never say that I was false of heart | 11 |
| O saw ye bonnie Lesley | 176 |
| O say what is that thing call’d Light | 136 |
| O talk not to me of a name great in story | 202 |
| O Thou, by Nature taught | 134 |
| O waly waly up the bank | 104 |
| O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms | 224 |
| O wild West Wind, thou breath Of Autumn’s being | 325 |
| O World! O Life! O Time | 340 |
| Obscurest night involved the sky | 193 |
| Of all the girls that are so smart | 151 |
| Of a’ the airts the wind can blaw | 183 |
| Of Nelson and the North | 237 |
| Of Neptune’s empire let us sing | 80 |
| Of this fair volume which we World do name | 53 |
| Oft I had heard of Lucy Gray | 213 |
| Oft in the stilly night | 255 |
| Oh snatch’d away in beauty’s bloom | 262 |
| On a day, alack the day | 17 |
| On a Poet’s lips I slept | 329 |
| Once did She hold the gorgeous East in fee | 241 |
| One more Unfortunate | 259 |
| One word is too often profaned | 233 |
| On Linden, when the sun was low | 243 |
| Our bugles sang truce, for the night-cloud had lower’d | 306 |
| Over the mountains | 84 |
| Pack, clouds, away, and welcome day | 45 |
| Phoebus, arise | 2 |
| Pibroch of Donuil Dhu | 233 |
| Poor Soul, the centre of my sinful earth | 52 |
| Proud Maisie is in the wood | 258 |
| Queen and Huntress, chaste and fair | 81 |
| Rough Wind, that moanest loud | 339 |
| Ruin seize thee, ruthless King | 140 |
| Season of mist and mellow fruitfulness | 293 |
| See with what simplicity | 85 |
| Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day | 15 |
| Shall I, wasting in despair | 102 |
| She dwelt among the untrodden ways | 208 |
| She is not fair to outward view | 207 |
| She walks in beauty, like the night | 206 |
| She was a Phantom of delight | 206 |
| Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea | 4 |
| Since there’s no help, come let us kiss and part | 30 |
| Sleep, angry beauty, sleep and fear not me | 31 |
| Sleep on, and dream of Heaven awhile | 154 |
| Sleep, sleep, beauty bright | 165 |
| Souls of Poets dead and gone | 257 |
| Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year’s pleasant king | 1 |
| Star that bringest home the bee | 304 |
| Stern Daughter of the Voice of God | 239 |
| Surprized by joy—impatient as the wind | 230 |
| Sweet, be not proud of those two eyes | 90 |
| Sweet Highland Girl, a very shower | 285 |
| Sweet Love, if thou wilt gain a monarch’s glory | 14 |
| Sweet stream, that winds through yonder glade | 154 |
| Swiftly walk over the western wave | 219 |
| Take, O take those lips away | 29 |
| Tax not the royal Saint with vain expense | 331 |
| Tell me not, Sweet, I an unkind | 88 |
| Tell me where is Fancy bred | 42 |
| That time of year thou may’st in me behold | 23 |
| That which her slender waist confined | 96 |
| The curfew tolls the knell of parting day | 172 |
| The forward youth that would appear | 65 |
| The fountains mingle with the river | 216 |
| The glories of our blood and state | 74 |
| The last and greatest Herald of Heaven’s King | 55 |
| The lovely lass o’ Inverness | 144 |
| The man of life upright | 52 |
| The merchant, to secure his treasure | 155 |
| The more we live, more brief appear | 338 |
| The nightingale, as soon as April bringeth | 28 |
| The poplars are fell’d; farewell to the shade | 167 |
| There be none of Beauty’s daughters | 204 |
| There is a flower, the lesser Celandine | 253 |
| There is a garden in her face | 92 |
| There’s not a joy the world can give like that it takes away | 252 |
| There’s not a nook within this solemn Pass | 340 |
| There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream | 341 |
| The sea hath many thousand sands | 33 |
| The sun is warm, the sky is clear | 256 |
| The sun upon the lake is low | 304 |
| The twentieth year is well-nigh past | 192 |
| The world is too much with us; late and soon | 330 |
| They are all gone into the world of light | 109 |
| They that have power to hurt, and will do none | 26 |
| This is the month, and this the happy morn | 56 |
| This Life, which seems so fair | 51 |
| Though others may her brow adore | 21 |
| Thou art not fair, for all thy red and white | 34 |
| Thou still unravish’d bride of quietness | 331 |
| Three years she grew in sun and shower | 209 |
| Thy braes were bonny, Yarrow stream | 146 |
| Timely blossom, Infant fair | 138 |
| Tired with all these, for restful death I cry | 54 |
| Toll for the Brave | 148 |
| To me, fair Friend, you never can be old | 11 |
| To one who has been long in city pent | 282 |
| Turn back, you wanton flyer | 16 |
| ’Twas at the royal feast for Persia won | 129 |
| ’Twas on a lofty vase’s side | 137 |
| Two Voices are there; one is of the Sea | 241 |
| Under the greenwood tree | 7 |
| Upon my lap my sovereign sits | 105 |
| Verse, a breeze ’mid blossoms straying | 333 |
| Victorious men of earth, no more | 74 |
| Waken, lords and ladies gay | 272 |
| Wee, sleekit, cow’rin’, tim’rous beastie | 168 |
| Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee | 37 |
| Weep you no more, sad fountains | 14 |
| Were I as base as is the lowly plain | 21 |
| We talk’d with open heart, and tongue | 336 |
| We walk’d along, while bright and red | 334 |
| We watch’d her breathing thro’ the night | 265 |
| Whenas in silks my Julia goes | 95 |
| When Britain first at Heaven’s command | 139 |
| When first the fiery-mantled Sun | 294 |
| When God at first made Man | 78 |
| When he who adores thee has left but the name | 246 |
| When icicles hang by the wall | 23 |
| When I consider how my light is spent | 76 |
| When I have borne in memory what has tamed | 243 |
| When I have fears that I may cease to be | 229 |
| When I have seen by Time’s fell hand defaced | 4 |
| When I survey the bright | 126 |
| When I think on the happy days | 182 |
| When in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes | 10 |
| When in the chronicle of wasted time | 15 |
| When lovely woman stoops to folly | 156 |
| When Love with unconfinéd wings | 99 |
| When maidens such as Hester die | 262 |
| When Music, heavenly maid, was young | 161 |
| When Ruth was left half desolate | 313 |
| When the lamp is shatter’d | 226 |
| When the sheep are in the fauld, and the kye at hame | 178 |
| When thou must home to shades of underground | 37 |
| When to the sessions of sweet silent thought | 24 |
| When we two parted | 221 |
| Where art thou, my beloved Son | 270 |
| Where shall the lover rest | 222 |
| Where the bee sucks, there suck I | 2 |
| Where the remote Bermudas ride | 124 |
| Whether on Ida’s shady brow | 197 |
| While that the sun with his beams hot | 32 |
| Whoe’er she be | 82 |
| Why art thou silent? Is thy love a plant | 220 |
| Why so pale and wan, fond lover | 100 |
| Why weep ye by the tide, ladie | 215 |
| With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb’st the skies | 36 |
| With little here to do or see | 291 |
| With sweetest milk and sugar first | 112 |
| Ye banks and braes and streams around | 177 |
| Ye banks and braes o’ bonnie Doon | 157 |
| Ye distant spires, ye antique towers | 185 |
| Ye Mariners of England | 235 |
| Yes, there is holy pleasure in thine eye | 284 |
| Yet once more, O ye laurels, and once more | 68 |
| You meaner beauties of the night | 88 |