ducal Library of Weimar, identifies the story, which is a variant of the Third Calender's story in The Arabian Nights, as the 'Histoire de la Corbeille,' in the Nouveaux Contes Orientaux of the Comte de Caylus.

53. Page 399. Hunt's triumphal entry into London.' Mr. Forman makes the following note on this passage: Henry Hunt, of Manchester Massacre fame, ended an imprisonment of two years and a half on the 30th of October, 1822, and made an entry into London" on the 11th of November, 1822; but the trial of which his imprisonment was the issue had not taken place till the spring of 1820; and the entry alluded to by Keats was one which took place between the massacre and the trial.'

IN this list the contents are given in their order of the three volumes published by Keats. Then follow the poems gathered by Lord Houghton, and those printed for the first time in the Letters, collected by Mr. Forman, Mr. Colvin, and Mr. Speed. The few instances of independent periodical publication of poems, and of those gathered by Mr. Forman, are noted in the head-notes to those poems.

I. POEMS, BY JOHN KEATS. WHAT MORE

FELICITY CAN FALL TO CREATURE, THAN TO ENJOY DELIGHT WITH LIBERTY' | Fate of the Butterfly. -SPENSER. | LONDON: PRINTED FOR C. & J. OLLIER, 3 WELBECK STREET, | CAVENDISH SQUARE. | 1817.

Dedication. To Leigh Hunt, esq.

'I stood tip-toe upon a little hill.' Specimen of an Induction to a Poem. Calidore. A Fragment.

To Some Ladies.

On receiving a curious shell, and a Copy of

Verses from the same Ladies.

To. [Hadst thou liv'd in days of old].
To Hope.

Imitation of Spenser.

'Woman! when I behold thee flippant, vain.' Epistles:

To George Felton Mathew.

To my Brother George.

To Charles Cowden Clarke.

Sonnets:

I. To my Brother George.
II. To

['Had I a man's fair form, then might my sighs.']

III. Written on the day that Mr. Leigh Hunt left prison.

IV. 'How many bards gild the lapses of time.'

V. To a Friend who sent me some roses. VI. To G. A. W.

VII. 'O Solitude, if I must with thee dwell.' VIII. To my Brothers. IX.

Keen, fitful gusts are whisp'ring here and there.'

X. To one who has been long in city

pent.'

XI. On first Looking into Chapman's
Homer.

XII. On leaving some friends at an early hour.

XIII. Addressed to Haydon.

XIV. Addressed to the same.

XV. On the Grasshopper and Cricket.
XVI. To Kosciusko.

XVII. 'Happy is England.'
Sleep and Poetry.

II. ENDYMION: | A POETIC ROMANCE. | BY
JOHN KEATS. THE STRETCHED METRE
OF AN ANTIQUE SONG.' | LONDON: | PRINTED
FOR TAYLOR AND HESSEY, | 93, FLEET
STREET, 1818.

III. LAMIA ISABELLA, | THE EVE OF ST. AGNES, AND OTHER POEMS. BY JOHN KEATS, AUTHOR OF ENDYMION. LONDON: | PRINTED FOR TAYLOR AND HESSEY, | FLEET STREET | 1820.

Lamia.

Isabella; or the Pot of Basil.

The Eve of St. Agnes.

Ode to a Nightingale.

Ode on a Grecian Urn.

Ode to Psyche.
Fancy.

Ode [Bards of Passion and of Mirth']. Lines on the Mermaid Tavern.

Robin Hood. To a Friend.

To Autumn.

Ode on Melancholy.

Hyperion: a Fragment.

IV. LIFE, LETTERS AND LITERARY REMAINS OF JOHN KEATS. EDITED BY RICHARD MONCKTON MILNES [AFTERWARD LORD HOUGHTON].

[The following were incorporated in the bio graphical portion.]

To Spenser.

To Chatterton.
To Byron.

On seeing the Elgin Marbles.
To Haydon, with the above.

On seeing a lock of Milton's Hair.
A Draught of Sunshine.
What the Thrush said.

The Eve of St. Mark.

To Fanny: Physician Nature! let my spirit blood.'

Stanzas: In a drear-nighted December.' Sonnets:

Oh, how I love on a fair summer's eve.'

'To a Young Lady who sent me a laurel

crown.

'After dark vapours have oppress'd our plains.'

Written on the Blank space at the end of Chaucer's Tale of The Floure and the Lefe. On the Sea.

On Leigh Hunt's poem The Story of Rimini. 'When I have fears that I may cease to be.' To Homer.

Written in answer to a sonnet.

To J. H. Reynolds.

Το

-:Time's sea hath been five years

at its slow ebb.'

To Sleep.

On Fame.

Another on Fame.

Why did I laugh to-night?'

A Dream, after reading Dante's Episode of Paolo and Francesca.

'If by dull rhymes our English must be chain'd.'

'The day is gone, and all its sweets are gone.' 'I cry your mercy-pity-love! - aye, love.' The Last Sonnet.

V. THE LETTERS OF JOHN KEATS:
Acrostic: Georgiana Augusta Wylie.
At Teignmouth.

Mrs. Cameron and Ben Nevis.
The Devon Maid.

A Little Extempore.
The Gadfly.

The Human Seasons.

To Thomas Keats.
A Party of Lovers.
A Song about Myself.
Two or Three Posies.

AFTER dark vapours have oppress'd our plains,
36.

Ah! ken ye what I met the day, 245.

Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight, 139.
Ah! woe is me! poor silver wing! 141.
All gentle folks who owe a grudge, 245.
And what is love? It is a doll dress'd up, 238.
As from the darkening gloom a silver dove, 12.
As Hermes once took to his feathers light, 138.
As late I rambled in the happy fields, 13.
Asleep! O sleep a little while, white pearl !

240.

A thing of beauty is a joy forever, 49.

Bards of Passion and of Mirth, 125.
Blue! 'Tis the life of heaven,- the domain, 43.
Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art,
232.

Brother belov'd, if health shall smile again, 252.
Byron! how sweetly sad thy melody! 2.

Can death be sleep, when life is but a dream, 1.
Cat! who has[t] pass'd thy grand climacteric,
252.

Chief of organic numbers, 39.

Come hither all sweet maidens soberly, 38.

Dear Reynolds! as last night I lay in bed, 241.
Deep in the shady sadness of a vale, 199.

Ever let the Fancy roam, 124.

Fair Isabel, poor simple Isabel, 110.

Fame, like a wayward girl, will still be coy,

142.

Fanatics have their dreams, wherewith they
weave, 233.

Four Seasons fill the measure of the year, 44.
Fresh morning gusts have blown away all
fear, 7.

Full many a dreary hour have I past, 24.

Give me a golden pen and let me lean, 9.
Give me your patience, sister, while I frame,

243.

Glory and loveliness have pass'd away, 37.
God of the golden-bow, 7.

Good Kosciusko, thy great name alone, 34.
Great spirits now on earth are sojourning, 33,

Had I a man's fair form, then might my sighs,

26.

Hadst thou liv'd in days of old, 11.
Happy, happy glowing fire! 140.
Happy is England! I could be content, 35.
Hast thou from the caves of Golconda, a gem, 4.
Haydon forgive me that I cannot speak, 36.
Hearken, thou craggy ocean pyramid, 121.
He is to weet a melancholy Carle, 250.
Hence Burgundy, Claret, and Port, 242.
Here all the summer could I stay, 242.
Highmindedness, a jealousy for good, 33.
How fever'd is the man, who cannot look, 142..
How many bards gild the lapses of time! 8.
Hush, hush! tread softly! hush, hush, my
dear! 120.

I cry your mercy-pity-love!-aye, love, 215..
If by dull rhymes our English must be chain'd,.
144.

If shame can on a soldier's vein-swoll'n front,.
192.

I had a dove and the sweet dove died, 125.
In a drear-nighted December, 34.

In after-time, a sage of mickle lore, 9.

In midmost Ind, beside Hydaspes cool, 216.
In the wide sea there lives a forlorn wretch, 891.
In thy western halls of gold, 6.

I stood tiptoe upon a little hill, 14.

It keeps eternal whisperings around, 37.

Keen, fitful gusts are whisp'ring here and there,

8.

King of the stormy sea, 93.

Lo! I must tell a tale of chivalry, 27.

Many the wonders I this day have seen, 26.
Mother of Hermes! and still youthful Maia,

119.

Much have I travell'd in the realms of gold, 9.
My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains,

144.

My spirit is too weak-mortality, 36.

Nature withheld Cassandra in the skies, 123.
No, no, go not to Lethe, neither twist, 126.
Not Aladdin magian, 122.

No! those days are gone away, 41.

Now morning from her orient chamber came, 1.
Nymph of the downward smile and sidelong
glance, 34.

O Arethusa, peerless nymph! why fear, 77.
O blush not so! O blush not so, 248.
O Chatterton! how very sad thy fate, 2.
O come Georgiana! the rose is full blown, 240.
Of late two dainties were before me plac'd, 246,
Oft have you seen a swan superbly frowning, 30.
O Goddess! hear these tuneless numbers, wrung,
143:

O golden-tongued Romance, with serene lute!
40.

Oh how I love, on a fair summer's eve, 13.
O, I am frighten'd with most hateful thoughts!
240.

Old Meg she was a Gipsy, 243.

One morn before me were three figures seen,
136.

O soft embalmer of the still midnight, 142.
O Solitude! if I must with thee dwell, 12.
O Sorrow, 96.

O that a week could be an age, and we, 44.

O thou whose face hath felt the Winter's wind,
43.

O thou, whose mighty palace roof doth hang,
52.

O were I one of the Olympian twelve, 239.

Pensive they sit, and roll their languid eyes,
251.

Physician Nature! let my spirit blood! 137.

Read me a lesson, Muse, and speak it loud,
123.

St. Agnes' Eve Ah, bitter chill it was! 127.
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, 213.
Shed no tear - O shed no tear, 141.

Small, busy flames play through the fresh laid
coals, 33.

So, I am safe emerged from these broils! 159.
Son of the old moon-mountains African! 41
Souls of Poets dead and gone, 40.
Spenser a jealous honourer of thine, 42.
Spirit here that reignest! 42.

Standing aloof in giant ignorance, 119.

Sweet are the pleasures that to verse belong,
10.

The church bells toll a melancholy round, 35.
The day is gone, and all its sweets are gone, 214.
The Gothic looks solemn, 252.

The poetry of earth is never dead, 35.

There is a charm in footing slow across a silent
plain, 246.

There was a naughty Boy, 244.

The stranger lighted from his steed, 240.
The sun, with his great eye, 239.

The Town, the churchyard, and the setting sun,
120.

Think not of it, sweet one, so, 38.

This mortal body of a thousand days, 122.
This pleasant tale is like a little copse, 36.
Thou still unravish'd bride of quietness, 135.
Time's sea hath been five years at its slow ebb,
124.

'Tis the witching time of night, 249.

To-night I'll have my friar - let me think,
239.

To one who has been long in city pent, 13.
Two or three Posies, 251.

Unfelt, unheard, unseen, 38.

Upon a Sabbath-day it fell, 196.

Upon a time, before the faery broods, 146.
Upon my Life, Sir Nevis, I am piqued, 247.

Welcome joy, and welcome sorrow, 42.
What can I do to drive away, 214.

What is more gentle than a wind in summer? 18.
What though, for showing truth to flatter'd
state, 5.

What though, while the wonders of nature ex-
ploring, 3.

When by my solitary hearth I sit, 5.

When I have fears that I may cease to be, 39.
When they were come into the Faery's Court,
249.

When wedding fiddles are a-playing, 240.
Where be ye going, you Devon maid? 243.
Where's the Poet? show him! show him, 238.
Who loves to peer up at the morning sun, 39.
Who, who from Dian's feast would be away?
102.

Why did I laugh to-night? No voice will tell,

137.

Woman! when I behold thee flippant, vain, 2.

Young Calidore is paddling o'er the lake, 28.