Shame on this faithless heart! that could al-
low, 575.

She dwelt among the untrodden ways, 112.
she had a tall man's height or more, 275.
She was a Phantom of delight, 311.
Shout, for a mighty Victory is won, 308.
Show me the noblest Youth of present time,
654.

Shun not this Rite, neglected, yea abhorred, 631.
Since risen from ocean, ocean to defy, 714.
six changeful years have vanished since I first,
169.

Six months to six years added he remained, 741.
Six thousand veterans practised in war's game,

308.

Sole listener, Duddon! to the breeze that played,
594.

Son of my buried Son, while thus thy hand,
760.

Soon did the Almighty Giver of all rest, 398.
Spade! with which Wilkinson hath tilled his
lands, 317.

Stay, bold Adventurer; rest awhile thy limbs,
402.

Stay, little cheerful Robin! stay, 768.

Stay near me do not take thy flight, 276.
Stern Daughter of the Voice of God, 319.
Strange fits of passion have I known, 112.
Stranger! this hillock of mis-shapen stones,

Surprised by joy - impatient as the Wind, 541.
Sweet Flower! belike one day to have, 325.
Sweet Highland Girl, a very shower, 297.
Sweet is the holiness of Youth-so felt, 620.
Swiftly turn the murmuring wheel, 401.
Sylph was it? or a Bird more bright, 698.

Take, cradled Nursling of the mountain, take,
594.

Tax not the royal Saint with vain expense, 634.
Tell me, ye Zephyrs! that unfold, 639.
Tenderly do we feel by Nature's law, 762.
Thanks for the lessons of this Spot-fit school,
716.

That happy gleam of vernal eyes, 659.

That heresies should strike (if truth be scanned,
606.

That is work of waste and ruin, 279.
That way look, my Infant, lo, 316.

The Baptist might have been ordained to cry,
755.

The Bard-whose soul is meek as dawning
day, 551.

-

The captive Bird was gone; to cliff or moor,

715.

The cattle crowding round this beverage clear,
708.

The cock is crowing, 278.

The Crescent-moon, the Star of Love, 768.
The Danish Conqueror, on his royal chair, 554.
The days are cold, the nights are long, 331.
The dew was falling fast, the stars began to
blink, 246.

The embowering rose, the acacia, and the pine,
399.

The encircling ground in native turf arrayed,
633.

The fairest, brightest hues of ether fade, 539.
The feudal Keep, the bastions of Cohorn, 712.
The fields which with covetous spirit we sold,
313.

The floods are roused, and will not soon be
weary, 720.

The forest huge of ancient Caledon, 693.
The formal World relaxes her cold chain, 764.
The gallant Youth, who may have gained, 686.
The gentlest Poet, with free thoughts endowed,
785.

The gentlest Shade that walked Elysian plains,
294.

The God of Love - ah, benedicite! 266.
The imperial Consort of the Fairy-king, 568.
The imperial Stature, the colossal stride, 651.
The Kirk of Ulpha to the pilgrim's eye, 601.
The Knight had ridden down from Wensley
Moor, 253.

The Land we from our fathers had in trust,
383.

The leaves that rustled on this oak-crowned
hill, 726.

The leaves were fading when to Esthwaite's
banks, 159.

The linnet's warble, sinking towards a close,

725.

The little hedgerow birds, 96.

The lovely Nun (submissive, but more meek),
618.

The Lovers took within this ancient grove, 694.
The martial courage of a day is vain, 385.
The massy Ways, carried across these heights,
646.

The Minstrels played their Christmas tune,
593.

The most alluring clouds that mount the sky,
769.

The old inventive Poets, had they seen, 598.
The oppression of the tumult-wrath and scorn,
607.

The peace which others seek they find, 313.
The pensive Sceptic of the lonely vale, 507.
The pibroch's note, discountenanced or mute,
689.

The post-boy drove with fierce career, 274.
The power of Armies is a visible thing, 393.
The prayers I make will then be sweet indeed,
319.

There are no colours in the fairest sky, 625.
There is a bondage worse, far worse, to bear,
306.

There is a change- and I am poor, 343.
There is a Flower, the lesser Celandine, 318.
There is a little unpretending Rill, 573.
There is an Eminence, of these our hills, 249.
There is a pleasure in poetic pains, 650.

There is a Thorn - it looks so old, 75.
There is a Yew-tree, pride of Lorton Vale, 293.
There never breathed a man who, when his life,
389.

"There!" said a Stripling, pointing with meet
pride, 719.

There's George Fisher, Charles Fleming, and
Reginald Shore, 258.

There's more in words than I can teach, 698.
There's not a nook within this solemn Pass,
689.

There's something in a flying horse, 97.

There was a Boy; ye knew him well, ye cliffs,
111.

There was a roaring in the wind all night, 280.
There was a time when meadow, grove, and
stream, 353.

The Roman Consul doomed his sons to die, 761.
The Sabbath bells renew the inviting peal, 630.
The saintly Youth has ceased to rule, dis-
crowned, 621.

These times strike monied worldings with dis-
may,
307.

These Tourists, Heaven preserve us! needs
must live, 232.

The Sheep-boy whistled loud, and lo! 324.

The Shepherd, looking eastward, softly said,

539.

The sky is overcast, 71.

The soaring lark is blest as proud, 664.
The Spirit of Antiquity - enshrined, 576.
The stars are mansions built by Nature's hand,
574.

The star which comes at close of day to shine,
764.

The struggling Rill insensibly is grown, 595.
The sun has long been set, 284.

The sun is couched, the sea-fowl gone to rest,
705.

The Sun, that seemed so mildly to retire, 705.
The sylvan slopes with corn-clad fields, 572.
The tears of man in various measure gush, 621.
The troop will be impatient; let us hie, 33,
The turbaned Race are poured in thickening
swarms, 612.

The unremitting voice of nightly streams, 787.
The Valley rings with mirth and joy, 244.

The Vested Priest before the Altar stands, 630.
The Virgin Mountain, wearing like a Queen,
623.

The Voice of Song from distant lands shall call,
286.

The wind is now thy organist; -a clank, 689.
The woman-hearted Confessor prepares, 611.
The world forsaken, all its busy cares, 753.
The world is too much with us, late and soon,
349.

They called Thee Merry England, in old time,
707.

They dreamt not of a perishable home, 634.
The Young-ones gathered in from hill and dale,
629.

They seek, are sought: to daily battle led, 393.
They who have seen the noble Roman's scorn,
749.

-

This Height a ministering Angel might select,

402.

This Land of Rainbows spanning glens whose
walls, 690.

This Lawn, a carpet all alive, 668.
This Spot
-at once unfolding sight so fair,
Those breathing Tokens of your kind regard,
664.

Those had given earliest notice, as the lark.
616.

Those old credulities to nature dear, 748.
Those silver clouds collected round the sun, 571.
Those words were uttered as in pensive mood,
348.

Though I beheld at first with blank surprise,
766.

Though joy attend Thee orient at the birth,
692.

Though many suns have risen and set, 644.
Though narrow be that old Man's cares, and
near, 359.

Tho' searching damps and many an envious
flaw, 584.

Though the bold wings of Poesy affect, 783,
Though the torrents from their fountains, 27.
Though to give timely warning and deter, Th
Thou look'st upon me, and dost fondly think,

707.

Thou sacred Pile! whose turrets rise, 582.
Threats come which no submission may &
suage, 618.

Three years she grew in sun and shower, 113,
Through shattered galleries, 'mid roofless hak
640.

Thus all things lead to Charity, secured, 633,
Thus far, O Friend! have we, though leaving
much, 132.

Thus is the storm abated by the craft, 617.
Thy functions are ethereal, 660.

'Tis eight o'clock, a clear March night, 86.
'Tis gone with old belief and dream, 658.
'Tis He whose yester-evening's high disdain.

760.

To every Form of being is assigned, 515.
To kneeling Worshippers, no earthly floor, 651.
Too frail to keep the lofty vow, 295.

To public notice, with reluctance strong, 54.
Toussaint, the most unhappy man of men.
Tradition, be thou mute! Oblivion, throw, fl.
Tranquillity! the sovereign aim wert thou, 73%
Troubled long with warring notions, 566.
True is it that Ambrosio Salinero, 390.
'Twas Summer, and the sun had mounted
high, 411.

Two Voices are there; one is of the sea, 356.

Under the shadow of a stately Pile, 755.
Ungrateful Country, if thou e'er forget, 626.

Unless to Peter's Chair the viewless wind, 613.
Unquiet childhood here by special grace, 652.
Untouched through all severity of cold, 700.
Up, Timothy, up with your staff and away, 257.
Up to the throne of God is borne, 727.

Up! up! my Friend, and quit your books, 83.
Up with me! up with me into the clouds, 320.
Urged by Ambition, who with subtlest skill, 611.
Uttered by whom, or how inspired — designed,
578.

Vallombrosa! I longed in thy shadiest wood,
586.

Vallombrosa - I longed in thy shadiest wood,
754.

Vanguard of Liberty, ye men of Kent, 307.

Wait, prithee, wait! this answer Lesbia threw,
740.

Wanderer! that stoop'st so low, and com'st so
near, 732.

Wansfell! this Household has a favoured lot,
776.

Ward of the Law!- dread Shadow of a King,
573.

Was it to disenchant, and to undo, 577.

Was the aim frustrated by force or guile, 568.
Watch, and be firm! for, soul-subduing vice,
606.

Weak is the will of Man, his judgment blind,
539.

We can endure that He should waste our lands,
387.

Weep not, beloved Friends! nor let the air, 389.
We had a female Passenger who came, 286.
We have not passed into a doleful City, 718.
Well have yon Railway Labourers to THIS
ground, 781.

Well may'st thou halt - and gaze with bright-
ening eye, 347.

Well sang the Bard who called the grave, in
strains, 691.

Well worthy to be magnified are they, 627.
We gaze
-nor grieve to think that we must
die, 764.
Were there, below, a spot of holy ground, 10.
We saw, but surely, in the motley crowd, 716.
We talked with open heart, and tongue, 116.
We walked along, while bright and red, 115.
What aim had they, the Pair of Monks, in size,
753.

What aspect bore the Man who roved or fled,
595.

What awful perspective! while from our sight,

634.

What beast in wilderness or cultured field, 617.
What beast of chase hath broken from the
cover, 587.

What crowd is this? what have we here! we
must not pass it by, 345.

What heavenly smiles! O Lady mine, 781.
What He who, 'mid the kindred throng, 531.
What if our numbers barely could defy, 758.
What is good for a bootless bene, 381.
What know we of the Blest above, 579.
What lovelier home could gentle Fancy choose,

577.

What mischief cleaves to unsubdued regret, 724.
What need of clamorous bells, or ribands gay,

401.

What sounds are those, Helvellyn, that are
heard, 178.

What strong allurement draws, what Spirit
guides, 759.

What though the Accused, upon his own appeal,

666.

What though the Italian pencil wrought not
here, 581.

What, you are stepping westward? - Yea, 298.
What way does the Wind come? What way does
he go, 352.

When Alpine Vales threw forth a suppliant cry,
626.

Whence that low voice? -a whisper from the
heart, 598.

When Contemplation, like the night-calm felt,

152.

When, far and wide, swift as the beams of morn,
387.

When first descending from the moorlands, 737.
When haughty expectations prostrate lie, 569.
When here with Carthage Rome to conflict
came, 751.

When human touch (as monkish books attest),
739.

When I have borne in memory what has tamed,
288.

When in the antique age of bow and spear, 637.
When, looking on the present face of things,
307.

When Love was born of heavenly line, 70.
When Philoctetes in the Lemnian isle, 651.
When Ruth was left half desolate, 119.
When Severn's sweeping flood had overthrown,
766.

When the soft hand of sleep had closed the latch,

Who comes

with rapture greeted, and ca-

ressed, 625.
Who fancied what a pretty sight, 293.
Who is the happy Warrior? Who is he, 341.
Who ponders National events shall find, 770.
Who rashly strove thy Image to portray, 738.
Who rises on the banks of Seine, 548.
Who swerves from innocence, who makes di-
vorce, 600.

Who weeps for strangers? Many wept, 382.
Why art thou silent! Is thy love a plant, 740.
Why cast ye back upon the Gallic shore, 590.
Why, Minstrel, these untuneful murmurings,
649.

Why should the Enthusiast, journeying through
this Isle, 706.

Why should we weep or mourn, - Angelic boy,
786.

Why sleeps the future, as a snake enrolled, 635.
Why stand we gazing on the sparkling Brine,
712.

Why, William, on that old grey stone, 83.
Wild Redbreast! hadst thou at Jemima's lip,

653.

Wings have we, and as far as we can go, 347.
Wisdom and Spirit of the universe, 110.
With copious eulogy in prose or rhyme, 683.
With each recurrence of this glorious morn, 570.
With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the
sky, 348.

Within her gilded cage confined, 642.

Within our happy Castle there dwelt One, 289.
Within the mind strong fancies work, 561.
With little here to do or see, 291.

With sacrifice before the rising morn, 525.

With ships the sea was sprinkled far and nigh
349.

Woe to the Crown that doth the Cowl obey, 61
Woe to you, Prelates! rioting in ease, 617.
Woman! the Power who left his throne on high.
630.

Wouldst thou be taught, when sleep has taket
flight, 783.

Would that our scrupulous Sires had dared:
leave, 632.

Ye Apennines! with all your fertile vales. 7#
Ye brood of conscience, Spectres! that fre
quent, 762.

Ye Lime-trees, ranged before this hallowed Un
400.

Ye sacred Nurseries of blooming Youth, 574.
Ye shadowy Beings, that have rights and claims
717.

Yes! hope may with my strong desire kee
pace, 350.

Yes, if the intensities of hope and fear, 628.
Yes, it was the mountain Echo, 345.

Yes! thou art fair, yet be not moved, 781.
Yes, though He well may tremble at the sound,

AAR, The Fall of the, 578.

Abbeys, Old, 632.

Address from the Spirit of Cockermouth Castle, 707.
Address to a Child, 352.

Address to Kilchurn Castle, 299.

Address to my Infant Daughter, 315.

Address to the Scholars of the Village School of
114.

Anna, 651.

Anticipation (October, 1803), 308.

Anticipation of leaving School, Composed in, 2.

Apennines, Among the Ruins of a Convent in the, 756.
Apology (Eccl. Son., 1st Part), 608.

Apology (Eccl. Son., 2d Part), 619.

Apology (Sonnets upon the Punishment of Death), 764.
Apology (Yarrow Revisited), 695.
Applethwaite, At, 318.

Aquapendente, Musings near, 742.

Armenian Lady's Love, The, 669.

Armies, The Power of, 393.

Artegal and Elidure, 534.

Authors, A plea for, 760.

Author's Portrait, To the, 700.
Autumn (September), 538.
Avarice, The last Stage of, 259.
Avon, The (Annan), 693.

Bala-Sala, At, 713.

Ballot, Protest against the, 761.
Bangor, Monastery of Old, G07.

Baptism, 629.

Beaumont, Sir George, Epistle to, 303.

Beaumont, Sir George, Upon perusing the foregoing
Epistle to, 398.

Beaumont, Sir George, Picture of Peele Castle painted
by, 325.

Beaumont, Sir George, Beautiful picture painted by,
399.

Beaumont, Sir George, Elegiac Stanzas addressed to,
641.

Beaumont, To Lady, 358.

Beauteous Evening, It is a, 285.
Beggar, Old Cumberland, 93.
Beggars, 275.

Beggars, Sequel to the, 563.
Benefits, Other (Two Son.), 615.
Bible, Translation of the, 620.
Binnorie, The Solitude of, 314.

Bird of Paradise, Coloured Drawing of the, 737.

Bird of Paradise, Suggested by a Picture of, 785.
Biscayan Rite (Two Son.), 386.
Bishops, Acquittal of the, 626.

Bishops and Priests, 628.