Though humble the banquet to which I invite thee, iv. 178.
Though lightly sounds the song I sing to thee, v. 255.

Though long at school and college dozing, i. 282.

Though many great Doctors there be, iii. 39.

Though sacred the tie that our country entwineth, v. 161.
Though soldiers are the true supports, ii. 408.
Though sorrow long has worn my heart, i. 200.
Though 't is all but a dream at the best, iv. 241.
Thou oft hast told me of the happy hours, ii. 94.
Thou told'st me, in our days of love, v. 210.
Thou, whose soft and rosy hues, i. 70.

Thrice hath scribbling Kenyon scrawl'd, iii, 146.
Through Erin's Isle, iv. 99.

Through grief and through danger thy smile hath cheer'd m
way, iv. 80.

Through Manchester Square took a canter just now, ii. 230.
Thus did Soame Jenyns- though a Tory, ii. 396.

Thy brave, thy learn'd, have passed away, v. 292.

Thy harp may sing of Troy's alarms, i. 87.

Thy song has taught my heart to feel, i. 278.

'Tis believ'd that this Harp, which I wake now for thee, iv. 8

'Tis evening now; beneath the western star, ii. 82.

'Tis gone, and forever, the light we saw breaking, iv. 125.

'Tis said- but whether true or not, iv. 334.

'Tis sweet to think, that, where'er we rove, iv. 79.

'Tis the last rose of Summer, iv. 104.

'Tis the Vine! 't is the Vine! said the cup-loving boy, v. 18.

'Tis time, I feel, to leave thee now, i. 320.
'Tis true, my fading years decline, i. 114.
To all that breathe the air of heaven, i. 84.

To be the theme of every hour, i. 255.

To catch the thought by painting's spell, i. 306.
To-day, dearest, is ours, iv. 319.

To Ladies' eyes around, boy, iv. 140.

To Love, the soft and blooming child, i. 185.

To-morrow, comrade, we, iv. 181.

To no one Muse does she her glance confine, i. 276

Too plain, alas, my doom is spoken, iv. 252.

To see thee every day that came, i. 327.

To Swanager-

-

that neat little town, in whose bay, iii. 91.

To thee, the Queen of nymphs divine, i. 137.

To the people of England, the humble Petition, iii. 50.
T'other night, after hearing Lord Dudley's oration, iii. 190.
To those we love we've drunk to-night, v. 172.

To weave a garland for the rose, v. 231.

Tried a new châlé gown on-pretty, iii. 344.

'T was a new feeling-something more, i. 174.

'T was a proud moment—ev'n to hear the words, v. 306.

'T was but for a moment-and yet in that time, ii. 109.
'T was evening time, in the twilight sweet, iii. 60.

'T was eve's soft hour, and bright above, v. 175.
'T was graved on the Stone of Destiny, iii. 199.
'T was in a mocking dream of night, i. 92.
'Twas in the fair Aspasia's bower, i. 294.
'T was in the summer time so sweet, i. 290.
'T was late the sun had almost shone, v. 275.

-

'T was midnight dark, v. 99.

'T was night, and many a circling bowl, i. 102.

'T was noon of night, when round the pole, i. 96.

'T was on a day, i. 308.

'Twas one of those dreams that by music are brought, iv. 164

'T was on the Red Sea coast, at morn, we met, i. 324.

Twin'st thou with lofty wreath thy brow, v. 233.

'Twixt Eldon's Hat and Eldon's Wig, iii. 78.

Unbind thee, love, unbind thee, love, v. 244.

Up and march! the timbrels sound, v. 55.
"p! said the Spirit, and, ere I could pray, iii. 47.
Up, sailor boy, 'tis day, v. 237.

Up with the sparkling brimmer, v. 72.

Vill nobodies try my nice Annual Pill, iii. 126.
Vulcan! hear your glorious task, i. 54.

Wake thee, my dearthy dreaming, iv. 355.
Wake up, sweet melody, iv. 366.

Wanted-Authors of all-work, to job for the season, iii 71.
"War against Babylon!" shout we around, iv. 305.
Was it the moon, or was it morning's ray, i. 295.

Weeping for thee, my love, through the long day, v. 27.
Weep not for those whom the veil of the tomb, iv. 276.
Weep on, weep on, your hour is past, iv. 87.

Weep, weep for him, the Man of God, iv. 291.

Welcome, sweet bird, through the sunny hour winging, v. 70.
Well, it is n't the king, after all, my dear creature! ii. 352.
Well-peace to thy heart, though another's it be, ii. 60.
We may roam thro' this world like a child at a feast, iv. 61.
We miss'd you last night at the "hoary old sinner's, ii. 184.
Went to the Brera- -saw a Dance of Loves, v. 282.

Went to the Mad house -

--

saw the man, ii. 341.

We read the flying courser's name, i. 88.
Were not the sinful Mary's tears, iv. 282.

We 're told the ancient Roman nation, iii. 32.

What a lucky turn-up!-just as Eldon 's withdrawing, iii. 32.
What a pleasing contrivance! how aptly devis'd, iii. 202.
What a time since I wrote! I'm a sad, naughty girl-, ii. 804.
What! Ben, my old hero, is this your renown? ii. 270.
What life like that of the bard can be, iv. 182.
What! Miguel, not patriotic? oh, fy! iii. 103.
What news to-day? -oh! worse and worse-
What shall I sing thee? Shall I tell, v. 184.
What! still those two infernal questions, iii. 66.
What the bee is to the floweret, iv. 96.

ii. 232.

What, thou, my friend! a man of rhymes, iii. 316.
What! thou, with thy genius, thy youth, and thy name
What various attitudes, and ways, v. 271.

What, you, too, my ******, in hashes so knowing, iii. 188.
When abroad in the world thou appearest, iv. 252.

When Bacchus, Jove's immortal boy, i. 116.

When, casting many a look behind, i. 180.

- v. 204,

When cold in the earth lies the friend thou hast loved, iv. 134.

When Cupid sees how thickly now, i. 144.

When daylight was yet sleeping under the billow, iv. 76.
Whene'er I see those smiling eyes, iv. 138.

Whene'er you 're in doubt, said a Sage I once knew, iii. 149.
When erst, my Southey, thy tuneful tongue iii. 252.

When evening shades are falling, v. 45.

When first I met thee, warm and young, iv. 118.

When first that smile, like sunshine, bless'd my sight, iv. 280.

When freshly blows the northern gale, ii. 73.

When Gold, as fleet as zephyr's pinion, i. 128.

When Grammont grac'd these happy springs, i. 329.
When he, who adores thee has left but the name, iv. 49.
When I am dead, iv. 351.

When I behold the festive train, i. 20.

When I have seen thy snow-white wing, ii. 30.

When I lov'd you, I can't but allow, i. 177.

When in death I shall calmly recline, iv. 59.

When I would sing thy beauty's light, v. 220.

When Love is kind, iv. 258.

When Love was a child, and went idly round, iv. 224.
When Love, who ruled as Admiral o'er, v. 248.

When midnight came to close the year, i. 254.

When my thirsty soul I steep, i. 115.

When night brings the hour, iv. 255.

When o'er the silent seas alone, iv. 309.
When on the lip the sigh delays, iv. 320.
When 'midst the gay I meet, iv. 344.

When Royalty was young and bold, ii. 400.
When Spring adorns the dewy scene, i. 108.

When the Balaika, v. 29.

When the first summer bee, iv. 241.

When the sad word, "Adieu," from my lip is nigh falling, v. 234.

When the wine-cup is smiling before us, iv. 242.

When thou art nigh, it seems, iv. 381.

When thou shalt wander by that sweet light, iv. 232.

When thro' life unblest we rove, iv. 82.

When through the Piazzetta, iv. 237.

When Time was entwining the garland of years, i. 186.

When Time, who steals our years away, i. 169.

When to sad Music silent you listen, iv. 388.

When twilight dews are falling soft, iv. 345.

When wearied wretches sink to sleep, i. 211.

When wine I quaff, before my eyes, i. 117.

'Where are the visions that around me once hover'd, iv. 247

"Where are ye now, ye summer days," v. 117.

Whereas, Lord ****** de *******, iii. 181.

Where is now the smile, that lighten'd, i. 288.
Where is the heart that would not give, v. 171.
Where is your dwelling, ye Sainted? iv. 300.
Where Kings have been by mob elections, ii. 384.
Where shall we bury our shame, iv. 243.

Whether as queens or subjects, in these days, iii. 301.

While gazing on the moon's light, iv. 74.

While History's Muse the memorial was keeping, iv. 120.
While I touch the string, iv. 217.

While our rosy fillets shed, i. 110.

While we invoke the wreathed spring, i. 122.
Whilst thou, Mohassan, (happy thou!), ii. 195.
Whisperings heard by wakeful maids, iv. 223.
Who comes so gracefully, v. 68.

Who d'ye think we've got here? - quite reformed from the

giddy, iii. 333.

Who has not felt how sadly sweet, iv. 362.

Who is the Maid my spirit seeks, iv. 273.

Who is the maid with golden hair, i. 265.

Who'll buy a little boy? Look, yonder is he, v. 230.

Who'll buy?'t is Folly's shop, who 'll buy? —, v. 145.

Whose was the artist nand that spread, i. 127.

Who wants old Puck? for here am I, iii. 281.

Why does azure deck the sky? i. 224.

Why does she so long delay, v. 232.

Why is a Pump like Viscount Castlereagh? ii. 234.

Why, let the stingless critic chide, i. 178.
Wind thy horn, my hunter boy, iv. 248.
With all humility we beg, iii. 296.

With all my soul, then, let us part, i. 203.
Within this goblet, rich and deep, i. 113.
With moonlight beaming, iv. 374.

With triumph this morning, oh Boston! I hail, ii. 111.