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 golden slumbers?
As it fell upon a day
As I was walking all alane
A slumber did my spirit seal
As slow our ship her foamy track
A sweet disorder in the dress
At the corner of Wood Street, when daylight appears
At the mid hour of night, when stars are weeping, I fly
Avenge, O Lord! Thy slaughter'd Saints, whose bones
Awake, Aeolian lyre, awake
Awake, awake, my Lyre!
A weary lot is thine, fair maid
A wet sheet and a flowing sea
A widow bird sate mourning for her Love

Bards of Passion and of Mirth
Beauty sat bathing by a spring
Behold her, single in the field
Being your slave, what should I do but tend
Beneath these fruit-tree boughs that shed
Best and brightest, come away
Bid me to live, and I will live
Blest pair of Sirens, pledges of Heaven's joy
Blow, blow, thou winter wind
Bright Star! would I were steadfast as thou art

Call for the robin-redbreast and the wren
Calm was the day, and through the trembling air
Captain, or Colonel, or Knight in Arms
Care-charmer Sleep, son of the sable Night
Come away, come away, death
Come live with me and be my Love
Crabbed Age and Youth
Cupid and my Campaspe play'd
Cyriack, whose grandsire, on the royal bench

Daughter of Jove, relentless power
Daughter to that good earl, once President
Degenerate Douglas! O the unworthy lord!
Diaphenia like the daffadowndilly
Doth then the world go thus, doth all thus move?
Down in yon garden sweet and gay
Drink to me only with thine eyes
Duncan Gray cam here to woo

Earl March look'd on his dying child
Earth has not anything to show more fair
Eternal Spirit of the chainless Mind!
Ethereal Minstrel! Pilgrim of the sky!
Ever let the Fancy roam

Fair Daffodils, we weep to see
Fair pledges of a fruitful tree
Farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing
Fear no more the heat o' the sun
For ever, Fortune, wilt thou prove
Forget not yet the tried intent
Four Seasons fill the measure of the year
From Harmony, from heavenly Harmony
From Stirling Castle we had seen
Full fathom five thy father lies

Gather ye rose-buds while ye may
Gem o