Poèmes, par vers premier
Poèmes, par titre
A! Fredome is a noble thing!
A late lark twitters from the quiet skies
A linnet who had lost her way
A rose, as fair as ever saw the North
A slumber did my spirit seal
A sunny shaft did I behold
A sweet disorder in the dress
A weary lot is thine, fair maid
Absence, hear thou my protestation
Accept, thou shrine of my dead saint
Adieu, farewell earth's bliss!
Ae fond kiss, and then we sever
Aflatun and Aristu and King Iskander
After the blast of lightning from the east
Ah! County Guy, the hour is nigh
Ah, how sweet it is to love!
Ah, little eyes
Ah! were she pitiful as she is fair
Ah, what avails the sceptred race!
Albeit nurtured in democracy
Alexis, here she stay'd; among these pines
All are not taken; there are left behind
All Nature seems at work. Slugs leave their lair
All 's over, then: does truth sound bitter
All the flowers of the spring
All thoughts, all passions, all delights
Allas! my worthi maister honorable
Amarantha sweet and fair
Amid earth's vagrant noises, he caught the note sublime
Amid my books I lived the hurrying years
An ancient chestnut's blossoms threw
An uphill path, sun-gleams between the showers
And, like a dying lady lean and pale
And wilt thou leave me thus!
Angel spirits of sleep
Art thou poor, yet hast thou golden slumbers?
As doctors give physic by way of prevention
As I in hoary winter's night
As it fell upon a day
As unto the bow the cord is
Ask me no more where Jove bestows
Ask me why I send you here
Ask not the cause why sullen Spring
At the drowsy dusk when the shadows creep
At the last, tenderly
Awake, Aeolian lyre, awake
Away, delights! go seek some other dwelling
Away! the moor is dark beneath the moon
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