PAGE

Then Jerome did call

974

There are, I am told, who sharply criticise

816

There are two births, the one when Light

362

973

965

391

176

There in some darksome shade

Thicker than rain-drops on November thorn

This be the meed, that thy song creates a thousand-fold echo
This day among the faithful plac'd

This is the time, when most divine to hear
This Sycamore, oft musical with bees

This yearning heart (Love! witness what I say)
Thou bleedest, my poor Heart! and thy distress
Thou gentle Look, that didst my soul beguile
Thou who in youthful vigour rich, and light
Though friendships differ endless in degree
Tho' much averse, dear Jack, to flicker
Tho' no bold flights to thee belong

22

108

381

362

72

47

349

967

37

9

Thus far my scanty brain hath built the rhyme
Thus she said, and all around

To know, to esteem, to love,-and then to part

To praise men as good, and to take them for such

215

413

410

486

To tempt the dangerous deep, too venturous youth.
Tranquillity! thou better name

Truth I pursued, as Fancy sketch'd the way
"Twas my last waking thought, how it could be
'Twas not a mist, nor was it quite a cloud
Two wedded hearts, if ere were such

Unchanged within, to see all changed without
Under the arms of a goodly oak-tree
Underneath an old oak tree

Utter the song, O my soul! the flight and return of Mohammed

329

Verse, a breeze mid blossoms straying

439

Verse, pictures, music, thoughts both grave and gay

482

Verse, that Breeze mid blossoms straying

1041

1072

Water and windmills, greenness, Islets green.
We pledged our hearts, my love and I

INDEX OF FIRST LINES

Virtues and Woes alike too great for man
Vivit sed mihi non vivit-nova forte marita

PAGE

37

56

964

391

Well! If the Bard was weather-wise, who made
Well, they are gone, and here must I remain.

What a spring-tide of Love to dear friends in a shoal
What boots to tell how o'er his grave

362, 1032

178

965

966

What never is, but only is to be

What now, O Man! thou dost or mean'st to do

What pleasures shall he ever find

Whate'er thou giv'st, it still is sweet to me

When British Freedom for an happier land

954

414

4

What though the chilly wide-mouth'd quacking chorus

476

1010

79

Whene'er the mist, that stands 'twixt God and thee
Where deep in mud Cam rolls his slumbrous stream
Where graced with many a classic spoil
Where is the grave of Sir Arthur O'Kellyn

432

Whom should I choose for my Judge?

Where true Love burns Desire is Love's pure flame
Where'er I find the Good, the True, the Fair
While my young cheek retains its healthful hues
Whilst pale Anxiety, corrosive Care

236

69

955

Whom the untaught Shepherds call
Why need I say, Louisa dear

40

252

William, my teacher, my friend

304

Yes, noble old Warrior! this heart has beat high
Yes, yes! that boon, life's richest treat

317