First Line |
Page |
Verses |
On Richmond Hill, there live's a lass [sic] |
11 |
2 |
On the green sedgy banks of the sweet winding Tay |
12 |
3 |
Shepherds I have lost my love |
13 |
2 |
Dusky night rides down the sky, The |
13-14 |
6 |
No glory I covet, no riches I want |
15 |
5 |
'Twas on the morn of sweet May day |
16-17 |
5 |
I've kiss'd and I've prattled with fifty fair maids |
17-18 |
4 |
When Delia on the plain appears |
18-19 |
5 |
Adieu! ye verdant lawns and bowers |
19 |
3 |
Why heaves my fond bosom, ah! what can it mean? |
20 |
3 |
Women all tell me I'm false to my lass, The |
20-22 |
8 |
Some how my spindle I mislaid |
22 |
3 |
Beauteous starling late I saw, A |
23-24 |
8 |
O'er the vine covered hills and gay regions of France |
24-26 |
10 |
Trust not man for he'll deceive you |
26 |
3 |
Trust not woman she'll beguile you |
26-27 |
3 |
Rose that weeps with morning dew, The |
27 |
2 |
When I had scarcely told sixteen |
28 |
6 |
As on yon village lawn I stray'd |
29 |
3 |
Nae mair, ye bonny lasses gay |
30 |
6 |
Morning dew that wets the rose, The |
31 |
3 |
When first on the plain I began to appear |
31-32 |
4 |
Oft as on Thame's banks I stray |
32-33 |
3 |
There was a maiden in our town |
33-35 |
4 |
Dear is my little native vale |
35 |
3 |
Young Teddy is an Irish lad |
36 |
3 |
Come, sailors, be filling the can |
37 |
6 |
Could you to battle march away |
38 |
3 |
When the summer smiling bids the hillls |
39 |
3 |
When gentle love first fir'd my breast |
40 |
3 |
If your lovers, maids, forsake you |
41 |
4 |
Alas! the battle's lost and won |
41-42 |
3 |
Comely swain, why fit'st thou so? |
42-43 |
4 |
Were I oblig'd to beg my bread |
43-44 |
3 |
Spanking Jack was so comely, so pleasant, so jolly |
44-46 |
4 |
By a murmuring stream a fair shepherdess lay |
46-47 |
6 |
Guardian angels now protect me |
48 |
3 |
How happy a state does the miller possess |
49-50 |
3 |
Cobler there was, and he liv'd in a stall, A |
50-52 |
7 |
When Damon languish'd at my feet |
52 |
2 |
Wealthy fool, with gold in store, The |
53 |
4 |
Busy, curious thristy fly |
53-54 |
2 |
Adieu, ye jovial youths, who join |
54-55 |
4 |
I envy not the proud their wealth |
55-56 |
5 |
Spring was advancing, and birds were beginning, The |
56-58 |
5 |
I envy not the mighty great |
58 |
3 |
In good King Charle's golden days [sic] |
59-60 |
6 |
Cease, rude Boreas blust'ring railer! |
61-63 |
9 |
Since ev'ry charm on earth combin'd |
63-64 |
5 |
Echoing horn calls the sportsmen abroad, The |
64-65 |
4 |
Jacky Bull, when bound for France |
65 |
2 |
Banish sorrow grief and folly |
66 |
3 |
I Delia's beauties would disclose |
67-68 |
9 |
Hyla's the sweetest maid on earth |
69 |
6 |
Fields were green, the hills were gay, The |
70 |
3 |
Say, little foolish, fluttering thing |
71 |
1 |
Was I a shepherd's maid to keep |
71 |
1 |
In a mouldering cave, where the wretched retreat |
72-73 |
4 |
Friendship to every willing mind |
73-74 |
5 |
Says Plato why should man be vain? |
75 |
3 |
From the man that I love, though my heart I disguise |
76 |
4 |
Silver moon's enamour'd beam, The |
77-78 |
4 |
Believe my sighs, my tears, my dear |
78 |
2 |
Her sheep had in clusters crept close to a grove |
79-80 |
4 |
How stands the glass around? |
80-81 |
3 |
Ye virgins attend |
81-82 |
5 |
From the brook and the willow forsaking the plain |
83 |
3 |
Beneath a green grove, a lovely young swain |
84-85 |
4 |
As passing by a shady grove |
85-86 |
3 |
As bringing home, the other day |
86-87 |
3 |
O Nightingale! best poet of the grove! |
87-88 |
4 |
Farewell ye greenfields and sweet groves |
88-89 |
3 |
As Colinet and Phoebe sat |
89-90 |
5 |
Tho' youth and beauty grace the fair |
91-92 |
6 |
Sweet Betsy now employs my pen |
92-93 |
5 |
My temples with clusters of grapes I'll entwine |
94-95 |
5 |
Go! tuneful bird, that glads the skies |
95 |
2 |
Well met, jolly fellows, well met |
96 |
2 |
I dreamt I saw a piteous sight |
97-98 |
8 |
O'er desert plains and rushy meers |
98-99 |
4 |
I sigh and lament me in vain |
99-100 |
3 |
Lovely nymph! O cease to grieve me |
100 |
3 |
Lovely nymph now cease to languish |
101 |
4 |
How imperfect is expression |
102 |
3 |
For various purpose serves the fan |
103 |
2 |
Smiling morn, the breathing spring, The |
103-105 |
5 |
'Twas early on a holiday |
105-107 |
6 |
There was a frog liv'd in a well |
107-109 |
24 |
Let school masters puzzle their brain |
109-110 |
3 |
For a shape, and a bloom, and a mein |
111 |
4 |
Ah! fashion, wherefore dost thou still |
112 |
3 |
Dear Clora, let's love, while, in soft wanton gales |
113-114 |
3 |
See ruddy Aurora begins to appear |
114-115 |
3 |
When I comes to town with a load of hay |
115-117 |
3 |
When duty call'd, I sail'd away |
117-118 |
8 |
Charming village maid, The |
118-119 |
3 |
No more I'll court the town bred fair |
119-120 |
4 |
Eliza, once in prospect fair |
120-121 |
8 |
Hark! hark! o'er the plains what glad tumults we hear? |
122-123 |
5 |
Little Muses come and cry |
124 |
4 |
What's a poet, Sir? you, Sir? no Sir? |
124-125 |
3 |
My banks are furnish'd with bees |
125-126 |
3 |
Contented I am, and contented I'll be |
126-128 |
8 |
Dear heart! what a terrible life am I led! |
128 |
|
Ye fair possess'd of ev'ry charm |
129 |
3 |
Now's the time for mirth and glee |
130 |
4 |
Let rakes and libertines, resign'd |
131 |
3 |
Sweet Poll of Plymouth was my dear |
131-132 |
3 |
Last time I came o'er the moor, The |
132-134 |
5 |
When I was a young one, what girl was like me? |
134-135 |
6 |
Let poets praise the flow'ry mead |
135-136 |
3 |
Jolly mortals, fill your glasses |
136-137 |
3 |
When blushes dy'd the cheek of morn |
137-138 |
4 |
Music, how pow'rful is thy charm! |
138-139 |
5 |
Gallants attend, and hear a friend |
139-143 |
22 |
To hear a sweet goldfinch's sonnet |
143-144 |
3 |
Look, dear ma'am, I'm quite the thing |
144-145 |
4 |
How bright are the joys of the table |
145-146 |
4 |
While the lads of the village shall merrily, ah! |
146-147 |
3 |
Such beauties in view I |
147-148 |
2 |
In choice of a husband we widows are nice |
148-149 |
3 |
While some do love full bowls of quaff |
149-150 |
5 |
Lord! what care I for mam or dad? |
150-151 |
5 |
Of all the pretty flowers |
151-152 |
4 |
Sailor's life's a life of woe, A |
152-154 |
3 |
No care beyond the morrow! |
154 |
4 |
I thought our quarrels ended |
155 |
2 |
Three years a sailor's life I led |
156 |
3 |
Across the downs this morning |
157-158 |
|
Let shepherd lads and maids advance |
158-159 |
5 |
Leave, neighbours, your work, and to sport and to play |
159-160 |
5 |
All in the Downs the fleet was moor'd |
161-162 |
8 |
One morning, very early, one morning in the spring |
163-164 |
4 |
Topsail shivers in the wind, The |
164-165 |
4 |
Come now, all ye social pow'rs |
165-166 |
5 |
When trees did bud, and fields were green |
167-168 |
|
Once the Gods of the Greeks, at ambosial feast |
168-171 |
16 |
In hist'ries of heathens, by which tutors train us |
171-174 |
11 |
Cupid sent on a message one evening by Venus |
174-176 |
8 |
Now we're free from college rules |
177-178 |
7 |
Let us laugh at the common distinctions of state |
179-180 |
8 |
One evening Good Humour took Wit as hs guest |
181-183 |
8 |
Papilio the rich, in the hurry of love |
183-185 |
9 |
I've seen the smiling of fortune beguiling |
185-186 |
4 |
As Jamie gay gang'd blith his way |
186-187 |
4 |
Ye beauties, or such as would be fam'd |
188-189 |
3 |
Mon chere amie, let not despair |
189 |
3 |
Adieu, ye streams that gently flowing |
190-191 |
8 |
Sweet nightingale! queen of the spray |
191 |
1 |
With gloomy clouds of dismal dread |
191-194 |
13 |
To fly, like bird, from grove to grove |
195-196 |
4 |
In Eden Grove there dwells a maid |
196-197 |
8 |
By a whirlwind methought I through Aether was hurl'd |
198-200 |
12 |
Come care curing mirth |
200-202 |
10 |
O'er moorlands and mountains, rude, barren and bare |
202-203 |
4 |
For ages on ages by tyranny bound |
203-204 |
2 |
I'll sing you a song, and I'll sing all about it |
205-207 |
5 |
On Mira's toilet there was lain |
207 |
2 |
How happy is the man |
208 |
6 |
How blest is the bachelor's life |
209-211 |
8 |
Though grandeur flies my humble roof |
211-212 |
8 |
Ye dear pretty ladies |
212-213 |
4 |
Now Joan, we are married---and now let me say |
214-215 |
7 |
Flora at her talk one day |
216 |
1 |
Sportive swain, with graceful pride, The |
217-218 |
4 |
When Chloe try'd her virgin fires |
218-219 |
5 |
Unfold, Father Time, thy long records unfold |
219-220 |
4 |
Rose Tree in full bearing, A |
221 |
2 |
Does pity give, tho' Fate denies |
221-222 |
3 |
Distress me with those tears no more |
222-223 |
3 |
Shepherd of fortune possest, The |
223-225 |
16 |
Let meaner bards in rapt'rous strain |
225-227 |
6 |
Dame Liberty has fled to Gall |
227-228 |
7 |