Escape me? vi. 171

Fear death?--to feel the fog in my throat vii. 168

Fee, faw, fum! bubble and squeak! v. 167

First I salute this soil of the blessed, river and rock! xv. 17

Flower--I never fancied, jewel--I profess you! xiv. 60

Fortù, Fortù, my beloved one v. 54

Going his rounds one day in Ispahan xvi. 9

Grand rough old Martin Luther v. 90

Grow old along with me! vii. 109

Gr-r-r--there go, my heart's abhorrence! vi. 26

Had I but plenty of money, money enough and to spare vi. 66

Hamelin Town's in Brunswick v. 102

"Heigho!" yawned one day King Francis v. 36

Here is a story shall stir you! Stand up, Greeks dead

and gone xv. 85

Here is a thing that happened. Like wild beasts whelped,

for den xv. 26

Here's my case. Of old I used to love him xiv. 54

Here's the garden she walked across vi. 19

Here was I with my arm and heart vii. 94

High in the dome, suspended, of Hell, sad triumph,

behold us! xv. 199

Hist, but a word, fair and soft! vi. 196

How of his fate, the Pilgrims' soldier-guide xvi. 40

How very hard it is to be v. 264

How well I know what I mean to do vi. 126

I and Clive were friends--and why not? Friends! I think

you laugh, my lad xv. 88

I am a goddess of the ambrosial courts iv. 181

I am indeed the personage you know xiv. 86

I am poor brother Lippo, by your leave! iv. 205

I could have painted pictures like that youth's iv. 202

I dream of a red-rose tree vi. 180

I know a Mount, the gracious Sun perceives iv. 294

I leaned on the turf vii. 54

I--"Next Poet?" No, my hearties xiv. 31

I only knew one poet in my life iv. 176

I said--Then, dearest, since 't is so v. 96

I send my heart up to thee, all my heart v. 66

I sprang to the stirrup, and Joris, and he vi. 9

I've a Friend, over the sea v. 44

I will be quiet and talk with you vii. 51

I wish that when you died last May vii. 165

I wonder do you feel to-day vi. 150

If a stranger passed the tent of Hóseyn, he cried "A

churl's!" xv. 108

If one could have that little head of hers vii. 176

Is all our fire of shipwreck wood vii. 47

It is a lie--their Priests, their Pope vi. 34

It once might have been, once only vii. 171

It was roses, roses, all the way v. 6

June was not over vi. 161

Just for a handful of silver he left us vi. 7

Karshish, the picker up of learning's crumbs iv. 186

Kentish Sir Byng stood for his King vi. 3

King Charles, and who'll do him right now? vi. 5

"Knowledged deposed, then!"--groaned whom that most

grieved xvi. 62

Let them fight it out, friend! things have gone too far vi. 183

Let's contend no more, Love vi. 48

Let us begin and carry up this corps v. 154

"Look, I strew beans" xvi. 69

May I print, Shelley, how it came to pass xiv. 104

Morning, evening, noon and night v. 19

Moses the Meek was thirty cubits high xv. 254

My first thought was, he lied in every word v. 194

My grandfather says he remembers he saw, when a

youngster long ago xv. 3

My heart sank with our claret-flask vi. 16

My love, this is the bitterest, that thou vi. 142

Nay but you, who do not love her vi. 47

Never any more vi. 175

Never the time and the place xv. 256

Nobly, nobly Cape Saint Vincent to the North-west died

away vi. 97

"No boy, we must not"--so began xiv. 117

No, for I'll save it! Seven years since vii. 246

No more wine? then we'll push back chairs and talk iv. 238

No protesting, dearest! xiv. 71

Now, don't, sir! Don't expose me! Just this once! vii. 182

Now that I, tying thy glass mask tightly vi. 30

O the old wall here! How I could pass xiv. 3

O worthy of belief I hold it was xv. 159

Of the million or two, more or less v. 24

Oh but is it not hard, Dear? xv. 195

Oh Galuppi, Baldassaro, this is very sad to find! vi. 72

Oh, good gigantic smile o' the brown old earth vii. 61

Oh, Love--no, Love! All the noise below, Love xvi. 90

Oh, the beautiful girl, too white vii. 69

Oh, to be in England vi. 95

Oh, what a dawn of day! vi. 58

On the first of the Feast of Feasts vii. 250

On the sea and at the Hogue, sixteen hundred ninety two xiv. 77

One day it thundered and lightened xv. 197

Only the prism's obstruction shows aright vii. 167

Out of the little chapel I burst v. 209

Over the ball of it xiv. 49

_Petrus Aponensis_--there was a magician! xv. 117

Plague take all your pedants, say I! vi. 22

Pray, Reader, have you eaten ortolans xvi. 3

Query: was ever a quainter xiv. 5

Quoth an inquirer, "Praise the Merciful!" xvi. 32

Quoth one: "Sir, solve a scruple! No true sage xvi. 47

Room after room vi. 170

Round the cape of a sudden came the sea vi. 46

Said Abner, "At last that art come! Ere I tell, ere

thou speak vi. 98

See, as the prettiest graves will do in time vi. 45

Shall I sonnet-sing you about myself? xiv. 39

She should never have looked at me vi. 39

Sing me a hero! Quench my thirst xv. 57

So far as our story approaches the end v. 92

So, friend, your shop was all your house! xiv. 42

So, I shall see her in three days vi. 172

Solomon King of the Jews and the Queen of Sheba Balkis xv. 182

Some people hang portraits up vii. 178

Stand still, true poet that you are! vi. 192

Still ailing, Wind? Wilt be appeased or no? vii. 56

Still you stand, still you listen, still you smile! xiv. 63

Stop, let me have the truth of that! vii. 85

Stop playing, poet! May a brother speak? iv. 173

Suppose that we part (work done, comes play) xv. 258

[Supposed of Pamphylax the Antiochene vii. 120

Take the cloak from his face, and at first vi. 186

That fawn-skin-dappled hair of hers vi. 163

That second time they hunted me v. 47

That's my last Duchess painted on the wall v. 8

That was I, you heard last night vi. 155

The grey sea and the long black land vi. 46

The Lord, we look to once for all v. 161

The morn when first it thunders in March vi. 77

"The poets pour us wine--" xiv. 141

The rain set early in to-night v. 191

The swallow has set her six young on the rail vii. 4

There is nothing to remember in me vii.

There's a palace in Florence, the world knows well v. 178

There's heaven above, and night by night iv. 199

There they are, my fifty men and women iv. 296

"They tell me, your carpenters," quoth I to my friend

the Russ xv. 32

This is a spray the Bird clung to vi. 154

This now, this other story makes amends xv. 209

Touch him ne'er so lightly, into song he broke xv. 164

'Twas Bedford Special Assize, one Daft Midsummer's Day xv. 60

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