| [A cloud lay cradled near the setting sun] | 213 |
| [Ae fond kiss, and then we sever!] | 52 |
| [Ah! Jeane, my maid, I stood to you] | 20 |
| [Ah! my heart is weary waiting] | 91 |
| [All houses wherein men have lived and died] | 73 |
| [As an unperfect actor on the stage] | 50 |
| [As ships becalmed at eve, that lay] | 69 |
| [A steed! a steed of matchlesse speed] | 132 |
| [As upland fields were sunburnt brown] | 43 |
| [At the close of the day, when the hamlet is still] | 175 |
| [Beautiful Evelyn Hope is dead] | 161 |
| [Before I trust my fate to thee] | 46 |
| [Behold this ruin! 'Twas a skull] | 201 |
| [Between the dark and the daylight] | 152 |
| [Bird of the wilderness] | 104 |
| [Break, break, break] | 53 |
| [By the waters of Life we sat together] | 84 |
| [Close his eyes; his work is done!] | 134 |
| [Come, all ye jolly shepherds] | 30 |
| [Come in the evening, or come in the morning] | 35 |
| [Come, rest in this bosom, my own stricken deer] | 46 |
| [Could we but know] | 220 |
| [Could ye come back to me, Douglas, Douglas] | 167 |
| [Deep on the convent-roof the snows] | 215 |
| [Drawn by horses with decorous feet] | 185 |
| [Eyes which can but ill define] | 88 |
| [Farewell! since nevermore for thee] | 173 |
| [Flow down, cold rivulet, to the sea] | 112 |
| [From Stirling castle we had seen] | 93 |
| ["Give us a song!" the soldiers cried] | 130 |
| [God makes sech nights, all white an' still] | 26 |
| [Go, Soul, the body's guest] | 204 |
| [Green be the turf above thee] | 169 |
| [Hail to thee, blithe spirit!] | 106 |
| [He clasps the crag with hookéd hands] | 105 |
| [He is gone on the mountain] | 133 |
| [Here, a sheer hulk, lies poor Tom Bowling] | 168 |
| [He wiled me through the furzy croft] | 59 |
| [Ho! pretty page with the dimpled chin] | 115 |
| [Ho, sailor of the sea!] | 150 |
| [How sleep the brave who sink to rest] | 139 |
| [I arise from dreams of thee] | 42 |
| [I cannot make him dead!] | 154 |
| [I fill this cup to one made up] | 21 |
| [I have had playmates, I have had companions] | 66 |
| [I heard the trailing garments of the night] | 103 |
| [I mourn no more my vanished years] | 221 |
| [I'm sittin' on the stile, Mary] | 158 |
| [I'm wearin' awa', John] | 156 |
| [In Xanadu did Kubla Khan] | 16 |
| [I remember, I remember] | 72 |
| [I saw her once,—so freshly fair] | 67 |
| [I saw him once before] | 117 |
| [It was the calm and silent night] | 217 |
| [I wandered by the brookside] | 36 |
| [I was thy neighbor once, thou rugged pile!] | 209 |
| [Just for a handful of silver he left us] | 119 |
| [Life! I know not what thou art] | 193 |
| [Like as the damask rose you see] | 189 |
| [Like to the falling of a star] | 192 |
| [Look at me with thy large brown eyes] | 149 |
| [Love not, love not! ye hapless sons of clay!] | 51 |
| [Maid of Athens, ere we part] | 45 |
| [Mellow the moonlight to shine is beginning] | 32 |
| [My boat is on the shore] | 110 |
| [My fairest child, I have no song to give you] | 199 |
| [My glass shall not persuade me I am old] | 49 |
| [My heid is like to rend, Willie] | 56 |
| [My life is like the summer rose] | 113 |
| [My mother bore me in the southern wild] | 181 |
| [Mysterious Night! when our first parent knew] | 104 |
| [No bird-song floated down the hill] | 82 |
| [O, a dainty plant is the ivy green] | 90 |
| [Oft in the stilly night] | 64 |
| [O little feet! that such long years] | 227 |
| [O Mary, go and call the cattle home] | 102 |
| [O, sing unto my roundelay!] | 171 |
| [Our bugles sang truce; for the night-cloud had lowered] | 127 |
| [Out of the clover and blue-eyed grass] | 140 |
| [Over the river they beckon to me] | 78 |
| [O, why should the spirit of mortal be proud?] | 177 |
| [O Woman of Three Cows, agragh! don't let your tongue thus rattle!] | 196 |
| [O World! O Life! O Time!] | 192 |
| [Prithee tell me, Dimple-Chin] | 228 |
| [September strews the woodland o'er] | 63 |
| [Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?] | 50 |
| [She died in beauty,—like a rose] | 164 |
| [She is far from the land where her young hero sleeps] | 170 |
| [She walks in beauty like the night] | 84 |
| [She was a phantom of delight] | 18 |
| [She was not fair, nor full of grace] | 165 |
| [Slave of the dark and dirty mine] | 183 |
| [Sleep sweetly in your humble graves] | 136 |
| [So fallen! so lost! the light withdrawn] | 123 |
| [Stars of the summer night!] | 41 |
| [Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright] | 203 |
| [Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean] | 65 |
| [Tell me not, sweet, I am unkinde] | 125 |
| [That which her slender waist confined] | 23 |
| [The glories of our birth and state] | 182 |
| [The glow and the glory are plighted] | 24 |
| [The heath this night must be my bed] | 124 |
| [The maid who binds her warrior's sash] | 142 |
| [The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year] | 100 |
| [There sat an old man on a rock] | 120 |
| [These years! these years! these naughty years!] | 114 |
| [The shadows lay along Broadway] | 207 |
| [The splendor falls on castle walls] | 40 |
| [The sunlight fills the trembling air] | 86 |
| [The winds that once the Argo bore] | 144 |
| [The woods decay, the woods decay and fall] | 193 |
| [They are all gone into the world of light] | 80 |
| [They grew in beauty, side by side] | 174 |
| [They sleep so calm and stately] | 137 |
| [This is the arsenal. From floor to ceiling] | 146 |
| [This is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign] | 214 |
| [This sweet child which hath climbed upon my knee] | 219 |
| [Thou lingering star, with lessening ray] | 61 |
| [Thou still unravished bride of quietness!] | 199 |
| [Three fishers went sailing out into the west] | 143 |
| [Tiger! Tiger! burning bright] | 96 |
| ['Tis a fearful night in the winter time] | 97 |
| ['Tis pleasant business making books] | 231 |
| ['Tis the last rose of summer] | 111 |
| [To him who in the love of nature holds] | 75 |
| [Touch us gently, Time!] | 122 |
| [Tread softly,—bow the head] | 208 |
| [Weave no more the marriage-chain!] | 163 |
| [We count the broken lyres that rest] | 229 |
| [We left behind the painted buoy] | 13 |
| [We watched her breathing through the night] | 160 |
| [We were not many,—we who stood] | 128 |
| [What constitutes a state?] | 148 |
| [What hid'st thou in thy treasure-caves and cells?] | 212 |
| [What was he doing, the great god Pan?] | 11 |
| [When forty winters shall besiege thy brow] | 48 |
| [When I consider how my light is spent] | 143 |
| [When I do count the clock that tells the time] | 49 |
| [When Liberty lives loud on every lip] | 179 |
| [When the latest strife is lost, and all is done with] | 54 |
| [Where is the grave of Sir Arthur O'Kellyn?] | 133 |
| [Whom first we love, you know, we seldom wed] | 71 |
| [With blackest moss the flower-pots] | 37 |
| [With what clear guile of gracious love enticed] | 224 |
| [Ye banks, and braes, and streams around] | 166 |
| [You ask me, why, though ill at ease] | 126 |