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On the Receipt of my Mother's Pic- ! ROGERS (Samuel), 570.
ture, by William Cowper, 365. Rosabelle, by Walter Scott, 484.
cloud had lower'd, 550.
SACKVILLE (Charles), 227.
(Thos.), Earl of Dorset, 28.
St. Agnes' Eve-Ah, bitter chill it
Saint Cecilia's Day (Song for), 219.
Sally in our Alley, by H. Carey, 279.
SEDLEY (Sir Charles), 222.
See the chariot at hand here of love, 99.
SHAKSPEARE (William), 64.
Shall I, wasting in despair, 155.
SHELLEY (Percy Bysshe), 467.
SHENSTONE (William), 293.
Shepherd Boy (The), by L. E. Mac-
Shepherd's Commendation of her
Shepherd's Resolution (The), by
George Wither, 155.
SIDNEY (Sir Philip), 46.
Skylark (To a), by P. B. Shelley, 467.
Sleepest or wakest thou, jolly Shep-
Sleeping Beauty, by S. Rogers, 571.
- (The), by Rev. John Keble, 647. Soldier's Dream (The), by Thomas
Solitude, by Henry Kirke White, 451,
Some years ago, ere Time and Taste,
So now is come our joyful'st feast, 151.
Soote Season (The), 24.
SOUTHWELL (Robert), 63.
Splendid Shilling (The), by John The voice which I did more esteem,
The waters are flashing, 471.
The World and Death one day them
The World's a bubble, and the Life of
demeer's stream, 574,
There is nae luck about the house, 379.
and stream, 563.
of beauty, song, and flowers, 579.
Think not 'cause men flatt'ring say, 104.
THOMSON (James), 281.
Those evening bells ! those evening
bells ! 573.
Through the blue and frosty heavens,
Timely blossom, Infant fair, 231.
To all you ladies now at land, 227. When maidens such as Hester die,
When Phoebus lists his head out of the
the kye at hame, 476.
Where, where now are the great re-
WHITE (Joseph Blanco), 456.
Wilí (The), by John Donne, 87.
by George Wither. | WILMOT (John), Earl of Rochester,
Wish (A), by Samuel Rogers, 570.
| With how sad steps, O Moon, 46.
WITHER (George), 151.
Within a thick and spreading haw-
thorn bush, 617.
Wolcot (John), 384.
WOLFE (Rev. C.), 457.
Wrathful Winter (The), 28.
WYATT (Sir Thomas), 18.
Yarrow Visited, by William Words-
i Yarrow Unvisited, 552.
| Ye Nymphs of Solyma ! begin the
Yes! there are real mourners: I have
Yet once more, O ye laurels, and once
young man cried, 539.
me early, mother dear, 651.
LONDON: PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, STAMFORD STREET,