"Return! -no, never, while the withering
hand, 725.

Rich and rare were the gems she wore, 173.
Rich in bliss, I proudly scorn, 51.

Ripened by the solar beam, 47-

Rose of the Desert! thou, whose blushing ray,
276.

Round the world goes, by day and night, 286.
Row gently here, 229.

SAID a Sovereign to a Note, 586.

Said Cotton to Corn, t' other day, 600.

Said his Highness to Ned, with that grim face of
his, 576.

Said Malthus one day to a clown, 615.
Sail on, sail on, thou fearless bark, 203.
Say, did you not hear a voice of death, 71.
Say, what shall be our sport to-day, 228.
Say, what shall we dance, 257.

Say, who was the wag, indecorously witty, 688.
Say, why should the girl of my soul be in tears,
83.

Sculptor, wouldst thou glad my soul, 14.
See how, beneath the moonbeam's smile, 71.
See, the dawn from Heaven is breaking, 230.
See those cherries, how they cover, 623.
See you, beneath yon cloud so dark, 157.

Shall the Harp then be silent, when he who first

244.

So warmly we met and so fondly we parted, 222.
Spirit of foy, thy altar lies, 294.

Spirit of Love, whose locks unrolled, 52.
Start not, my friend, nor think the Muse will
stain, 538.

Still, like dew in silence falling, 59.
Still the question I must parry, 79.
Still thou fliest, and still I woo thee, 290.
Still thus, when twilight gleamed, 263.
Still when daylight o'er the wave, 281.
Stop, Intellect, in mercy stop, 629.

Strange power of Genius, that can throw, 526.
Strew me a fragrant bed of leaves, 32.

Strike the gay harp! see the moon is on high,

216.

St. Sinclair rose and declared in sooth, 647.

Sublime was the warning that Liberty spoke,

177.

Sweet Innisfallen, fare thee well, 208.
Sweet lady, look not thus again, 70.

Sweet Moon! if, like Crotona's sage, 125.

Sweet singer of Romaldkirk, thou who art reck-
oned, 657.

Sweet Sirmio! thou, the very eye, 302.
Sweet spirit! if thy airy sleep, 74.

TAKE back the sigh, thy lips of art, 103.
Take back the virgin page, 174.

Take hence the bowl;-tho' beaming, 231.
Take your bell, take your bell, 588.

Talk no more of your Cheltenham and Harrow-

gate springs, 675.

Tell her, oh, tell her, the lute she left lying, 268.
"Tell me, gentle youth, I pray thee," 17.
"Tell me, kind Seer, I pray thee," 261.
Tell me the witching tale again, 95.

"Tell me, what 's Love?" said Youth, one day,

262.

Tell me, why, my sweetest dove, 20.
That sky of clouds is not the sky, 133.
That wrinkle, when first I espied it, 68.
The account is balanced- the bill drawn out,

660.

The dream of those days when first I sung thee
is o'er, 218.

The Duke is the lad to frighten a lass, 664.

The Garland I send thee was culled from those
bowers, 238.

The Ghost of Miltiades came at night, 635.
The halcyon hangs o'er ocean, 283.

The happy day at length arrived, 87.
The harp that once thro' Tara's halls, 171.
"The longer one lives, the more one learns,"
641.

The man who keeps a conscience pure, 578.
The Minstrel-Boy to the war is gone, 190.
The money raised- the army ready, 715.
The more I've viewed this world, the more I've
found, 301, 511.

Then, fare thee well, my own dear love, 226.
Then first from Love, in Nature's bowers, 200.
"The night-wind is moaning with mournful
sigh," 261.

The Phrygian rock, that braves the storm, 26.
The present Lord Kenyon (the Peer who writes
letters), 630.

There are echoes, we know, of all sorts, 631.
There are sounds of mirth in the night-air ring.
ing, 216.

There are two Loves, the poet sings, 283.
There breathes a language known and felt, 254-
There came a nymph dancing, 279.
There comes a time, a dreary time, 225.

There is some star- or may it be, 358.
There lies a shell beneath the waves, 92.
There, my lad, lie the Articles- just thirty-nine,
658.

There's a song of the olden time, 276.
There's not a look, a word of thine, 139.
There's something strange, I know not what,
288.

There was a little Man and he had a little Soul,
583.

These few brief lines, my reverend friend, 778.
"The sky is bright-the breeze is fair," 332.
The song of war shall echo thro' our mountains,

273.

The song that lightens the languid way, 293.
The summer webs that float and shine, 282.
The time I've lost in wooing, 195.
The turf shall be my fragrant shrine, 243.
The valley lay smiling before me, 190.

The wine-cup is circling in Almhin's hall, 218.
The wisest soul, by anguish torn, 72.
The women tell me every day, 15.
The world had just begun to steal, 74.
The world was husht, the moon above, 283.

The wreath you wove, the wreath you wove,

273.

They say that Love had once a book, 90.
They tell how Atys, wild with love, 17.
They tell me thou 'rt the favored guest, 279, 517.
They tell us of an Indian tree, 305.

They told her that he, to whose vows she had
listened, 260.

They try to persuade me, my dear little sprite,
86.

They wove the lotus band to deck, 51.
Think on that look whose melting ray, 98.
This day a New House for your edification,
581.

This life, dear Corry, who can doubt, 307.
This life is all checkered with pleasures and
woes, 188.

This tribute 's from a wretched elf, 83.

This wild Irish patient does pester me so, 656.
This world is all a fleeting show, 242.

"Tho' all the pet mischiefs we count upon fail,"
648.

Tho' dark are our sorrows, to-day we 'll forget
them, 184.

Tho' famed was Mesmer, in his day, 668.
Tho' humble the banquet to which I invite thee,

Tho' sacred the tie that our country entwineth,
295.

Those evening bells! those evening bells, 222.
Tho' soldiers are the true supports 714.

Tho' the last glimpse of Erin with sorrow I

see, 172.

Tho' 't is all but a dream at the best, 232.
Thou art not dead-thou art not dead, 345-
Thou art, O God, the life and light, 241.
Thou bidst me sing the lay I sung to thee, 285.
Though Fate, my girl, may bid us part, 70.
Though long at school and college dozing, 100.
Though sorrow long has worn my heart, 75-
Thou oft hast told me of the happy hours, 150.
Thou told'st me, in our days of love, 301.
Thou, whose soft and rosy hues, 21.
Thrice hath scribbling Kenyon scrawled, 632.
Thro' Erin's Isle, 188.

Thro' grief and thro' danger thy smile hath
cheered my way, 182.

Thro' Manchester Square took a canter just
now, 575.

Thus did Soame Jenyns-tho' a Tory, 710.
Thy brave, thy learned have past away, 515.
Thy harp may sing of Troy's alarms, 29.
Thy song has taught my heart to feel, 99.

'T is believed that this Harp, which I wake now

for thee, 183.

'Tis evening now; beneath the western star, 145-
'T is gone, and for ever, the light we saw break-
ing, 196.

'Tis moonlight over Oman's Sea, 431.

'I is said- but whether true or not, 270.
'Tis sweet to behold when the billows are sleep-

ing, 293.

'T is sweet to think, that, where'er we rove, 181.
'Tis the last rose of summer, 190.

"T is the Vine! 't is the Vine!" said the cup-
loving boy, 350.

'T is time, I feel, to leave thee now, 113.
'Tis true, alas-the mysteries and the lore, 354-
'Tis true, my fading years decline, 39.
To all that breathe the air of heaven, 28.
To be the theme of every hour, 92.

To catch the thought, by painting's spell, 109.
To-day, dearest! is ours, 266.

To Ladies' eyes around, boy, 201.

To Love, the soft and blooming child, 49.
To-morrow, comrade, we, 214.

To no one Muse does she her glance confine, 99.
Too plain, alas, my doom is spoken, 235.
To see thee every day that came, 118.
To sigh, yet feel no pain, 294.

To Swanage

bay, 613.

-that neat little town in whose

To thee, the Queen of nymphs divine, 50.
To the people of England, the humble Petition,

599.

T' other night, after hearing Lord Dudley's ora-
tion, 648.

To those we love we 've drank to-night, 314.
To weave a garland for the rose, 58.
Tried a new châlé gown on pretty, 759.
'T was a new feeling-something more, 67.
'T was a proud moment-even to hear the

words, 520.
'T was but for a moment—and yet in that time,
156.

'T was evening time, in the twilight sweet, 602
'T was eve's soft hour, and bright, above, 315-

'T was graved on the Stone of Destiny, 651.
'T was in a land that far away, 483.
'T was in a mocking dream of night, 31.
"I was in the fair Aspasia's bower, 104.
'T was in the summer time so sweet, 103.

'T was late-the sun had almost shone, 508.
'T was midnight dark, 264.

'T was night, and many a circling bowl, 35.
'T was noon of night, when round the pole, 32.
'T was on a day, 109.

'T was one of those dreams, that by music are
brought, 208.

"I was on the Red Sea coast, at morn, we met,

114.

'T was when the world was in its prime, 482.
Twin'st thou with lofty wreath thy brow, 58.
'Twixt Eldon's Hat and Eldon's Wig, 608.

UNBIND thee, love, unbind thee, love, 288.
Up and march! the timbrel's sound, 343.
"Up!" said the Spirit and ere I could pray, 597.
Up, sailor boy, 't is day, 59.

Up with the sparkling brimmer, 349.

VILL nobodies try my nice Annual Pill, 626.
Vulcan! hear your glorious task, 14.

WAKE thee, my dearthy dreaming, 277.
Wake up, sweet melody, 280.

Wanted Authors of all-work to job for the
season, 606.

"War against Babylon!" shout we around, 252.
Was it the moon, or was it morning's ray, 104.
Weeping for thee, my love, thro' the long day,

be, 137.

We may roam thro' this world, like a child at a
feast, 175.

We missed you last night at the "hoary old sin.
ner's," 559-

Went to the Brera-saw a Dance of Loves,
510.

We read the flying courser's name, 29.
Were not the sinful Mary's tears, 245.
What a lucky turn-up!- just as Eldon 's with-
drawing, 592.

What a pleasing contrivance! how aptly de-
vised, 656.

What a time since I wrote! I'm a sad, naughty
girl, 728.

What! Ben, my old hero, is this your renown,

knowing, 629.

***,in hashes sc

When abroad in the world thou appearest, 236.
When Bacchus, Jove's immortal boy, 40.
When, casting many a look behind, 69.

When Charles was deceived by the maid he
loved, 295.

When cold in the earth lies the friend thou hast
loved, 199.

When Cupid sees how thickly now, 53.

When daylight was yet sleeping under the bil
low, 180.

Whene'er I see those smiling eyes, 200.
Whene'er you 're in doubt, said a Sage I once
knew, 633.

When erst, my Southey, thy tuneful tongue, 670.
When evening shades are falling, 340.

When first that smile, like sunshine, blest my
sight, 229.

When first I met thee, warm and young, 194.
When freshly blows the northern gale, 141.
When Gold, as fleet as zephyr's pinion, 46.
When Grammont graced these happy springs,

118.

When he, who adores thee, has left but the

name, 171.

When I am dead, 275.

When I behold the festive train, 42.

When I have seen thy snow-white wing, 126.
When I loved you, I can't but allow, 68.
When in death I shall calmly recline, 174.
When I would sing thy beauty's light, 304.
When Lelia touched the lute, 293.
When life looks lone and dreary, 295.
When Love is kind, 237.

When Love was a child, and went idling round,

227.

When Love, who ruled as Admiral o'er, 289.
When midnight came to close the year, 92.
When midst the gay I meet, 273.
When my thirsty soul I steep, 40.
When night brings the hour, 237.
When o'er the silent seas alone, 256.
When on the lip the sigh delays, 266.
When Spring adorns the dewy scene, 37.
When the Balaika, 335.

When the first summer bee, 232.

When the sad word, "Adieu," from my lip is

nigh falling, 59-

When the wine-cup is smiling before us, 233.
When thou art nigh, it seems, 284.

When thou shalt wander by that sweet light,

When Time who steals our years away, 65.
When to sad Music silent you listen, 286.
When twilight dews are falling soft, 274.
When wearied wretches sink to sleep, 78.
When wine I quaff, before my eyes, 40.
"Where are the visions that round me once hov-
ered," 234.

"Where are ye now, ye summer days," 320.
Whereas, Lord ****** de ******
Where is now the smile, that lightened, 102.

645.

Where is the heart that would not give, 314.
Where is your dwelling, ye Sainted, 250.
Where Kings have been by mob-elections, 706.
Where shall we bury our shame, 233.

Whether as queens or subjects, in these days,
688.

While gazing on the moon's light, 180.

While History's Muse the memorial was keep-

ing, 194..

While I touch the string, 226.

While our rosy fillets shed, 37.

While we invoke the wreathed spring, 43.
Whilst thou, Mohassan, (happy thou!), 562.
Whisperings, heard by wakeful maids, 227.
"Who comes so gracefully," 347-

Who d' ye think we 've got here?- quite re-
formed from the giddy, 755.

Who has not felt how sadly sweet, 279.

Who has not heard of the Vale of Cashmere,
464.

Who is the Maid my spirit seeks, 242.
"Who is the maid, with golden hair," 96.

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

57:

Who'll buy?'t is Folly's shop, who 'll buy,
328.

Whose was the artist hand that spread, 45.
Who wants old Puck? for here am I, 681.
Why does azure deck the sky, 82.

Why does she so long delay, 58.

Why is a Pump like Viscount Castlereagh, 576.
Why, let the stingless critic chide, 68.
Wind thy horn, my hunter boy, 234.

With all humility we beg, 687.

With all my soul, then, let us part, 76.
Within this goblet, rich and deep, 38.
With moonlight beaming, 282.

Wouldst know what tricks, by the pale moon-
light, 284.

Would that I were a tuneful lyre, 52.

Wo, wo unto him who would check or disturb
it, 613.

Wreath the bowl, 200.

Write on, write on, ye barons dear, 627.

YES, be the glorious revel mine, 37.

Yes, grief will have way - but the fast falling
tear, 700.

Yes! had I leisure to sigh and mourn, 85, 301.
Yes if there yet live some of those, 509.
Yes, if 't were any common love, 85.
Yes-loving is a painful thrill, 30.

Yes, sad one of Sion, if closely resembling, 203.
Yes, 't was a cause, as noble and as great, 748.
Yes, Winchelsea (I tremble while I pen it), 640.
Yes, yes, when the bloom of Love's boyhood is
o'er, 273.

Yet, even here, tho' Fiction rules the hour, 297.
You bid me explain, my dear angry Ma'amselle,
649.

You both remember well the day, 487.
Young Jessica sat all the day, 274.

Young Love found a Dial once, in a dark shade,