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A weary lot is thine, fair maid.

A wet sheet and a flowing sea

Absence, hear thou this protestation
Ah, Chloris! could I now but sit
Ah, County Guy, the hour is nigh

All in the Downs the fleet was moor'd

All thoughts, all passions, all delights
And are ye sure the news is true.

And is this-Yarrow?-This the Stream

And thou art dead, as young and fair
And wilt thou leave me thus

Ariel to Miranda :-Take

Art thou pale for weariness

Art thou poor, yet hast thou gelden slumbers
As it fell upon a day

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At the corner of Wood Street, when daylight appears.

At the mid hour of night, when stars are weeping, I fly. 230

Avenge, O Lord! Thy slaughter'd saints, whose bones.

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Being your slave, what should I do but tend

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Bright Star! would I were steadfast as thou art

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Call for the robin-red breast and the wren

Calm was the day, and through the trembling air
Captain, or Colonel, or Knight in Arms

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Care-charmer Sleep, son of the Sable Night

Come away, come away, Death

Come, cheerful day, part of my life to me

Come little babe, come silly soul

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Come unto these yellow sands

Come live with me and be my Love

Come, Sleep: O Sleep! the certain knot of peace

Crabbed Age and Youth.

Cupid and my Campaspé play'd

Cyriack, whose grandsire, on the royal bench

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Daughter of Jove, relentless power

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Daughter to that good Earl, once President
Degenerate Douglas! oh, the unworthy lord

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Doth then the world go thus, doth all thus move

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Ethereal minstrel! pilgrim of the sky
Ever let the Fancy roam

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Fine knacks for ladies, cheap, choice, brave and new

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Get up, get up, for shame! The blooming morn

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He that loves a rosy cheek
He is gone on the mountain
Hence, all you vain delights.
Hence, loathéd Melancholy
Hence, vain deluding Joys

He sang of God, the mighty source

High-way, since you my chief Parnassus be

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How happy is he born and taught

How like a winter hath my absence been

How sleep the brave who sink to rest

How sweet the answer Echo makes

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

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In the sweet shire of Cardigan

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Lady, when I behold the roses sprouting.
Lawrence, of virtuous father virtuous son
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Life! I know not what thou art

Like to the clear in highest sphere

Love in my bosom, like a bee

Love in thy youth, fair Maid, be wise

Love not me for comely grace

Lo! where the rosy-bosom'd Hours

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Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore

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Milton! thou shouldst be living at this hour

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My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains

My Love in her attire doth shew her wit

My lute, be as thou wert when thou didst grow
My thoughts hold mortal strife

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My true-love hath my heart, and I have his

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Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note

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O Friend! I know not which way I must look

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O me what eyes hath love put in my head

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O talk not to me of a name great in story

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O Thou, by Nature taught.

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O waly waly up the bank

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O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms

O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being
O World! O Life! O Time

Obscurest night involved the sky

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Of all the girls that are so smart

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Of a' the airts the wind can blaw

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Our bugles sang truce, for the night-cloud had lower'd.
Over the mountains

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Poor Soul, the centre of my sinful earth
Proud Maisie is in the wood

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Queen and Huntress, chaste and fair

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Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea

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Since there's no help, come let us kiss and part

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Sleep, angry beauty, sleep and fear not me

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Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year's pleasant king

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Sweet Love, if thou wilt gain a monarch's glory

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