Index of Titles and First Lines
Abt Vogler | |
Ah, did you once see Shelley plain | |
Ah, love, but a day | |
Andrea del Sarto | |
Apparent Failure | |
Beautiful Evelyn Hope is dead! | |
Bishop Blougram’s Apology | |
Bishop Orders His Tomb at Saint Praxed’s Church, The | |
But do not let us quarrel any more | |
By the Fire-Side | |
Caliban Upon Setebos | |
“Childe Roland to the Dark Tower came” | |
Cleon the poet, (from the sprinkled isles | |
Cleon | |
Day! | |
Dear, had the world in its caprice | |
Death in the Desert, A | |
Dîs Aliter Visum | |
England in Italy | |
Englishman in Italy, The | |
Epistle Containing the Strange Medical Experience of Karshish, the Arab Physician, An | |
Evelyn Hope | |
Fee, faw, fum! bubble and squeak! | |
Flower’s Name, The | |
Fortù, Fortù, my loved one | |
Fra Lippo Lippi | |
Garden Fancies | |
Grammarian’s Funeral, A | |
Grow old along with me! | |
Gr-r-r—there go, my heart’s abhorrence! | |
Hamelin Town’s in Brunswick | |
Here’s the garden she walked across | |
Holy-Cross Day | |
Home-Thoughts, from Abroad | |
How It Strikes a Contemporary | |
“How They Brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix” | |
How well I know what I mean to do | |
I could have painted pictures like that youth’s | |
I only knew one poet in my life | |
I sprang to the stirrup, and Joris, and He | |
I wonder do you feel to-day | |
In a Year | |
It once might have been, once only | |
It was roses, roses, all the way | |
Italian in England, The | |
Italy in England | |
James Lee | |
Johannes | |
Johannes Agricola in Meditation | |
Just for a handful of silver he left us | |
Karshish, the picker-up of learning’s crumbs | |
Laboratory, The | |
Let us begin and carry up this corpse | |
Likeness, A | |
Lost Leader, The | |
Love Among the Ruins | |
Lovers’ Quarrel, A | |
Memorabilia | |
Mr Sludge, “the Medium” | |
My first thought was, he lied in every word | |
My Last Duchess | |
Never any more | |
No, for I’ll save it! Seven years since | |
No more wine? Then we’ll push back chairs and talk | |
Now, don’t sir! Don’t expose me! Just this once! | |
Now I have tied thy glass mask on tightly | |
Oh, Galuppi, Baldassaro, this is very sad to find! | |
Oh, to be in England | |
Oh, what a dawn of day! | |
Old Pictures in Florence | |
One Word More | |
Patriot, The | |
Pauline | |
Pauline, mine own, bend o’er me—thy soft breast | |
Pictor Ignotus | |
Pied Piper of Hamelin, The | |
Pippa Passes | |
Plague take all pedants, say I! | |
Popularity | |
Porphyria | |
Porphyria’s Lover | |
Respectability | |
Sibrandus Schafnaburgensis | |
Soliloquy of the Spanish Cloister | |
Some people hang portraits up | |
Stand still, true poet that you are | |
Stop, let me have the truth of that! | |
[Supposed of Pamphylax the Antiochene | |
That second time they hunted me | |
That’s my last Duchess painted on the wall | |
The morn when first it thunders in March | |
The rain set early in to-night | |
There they are, my fifty men and women | |
There’s Heaven above: and night by night | |
Toccata of Galuppi’s, A | |
Tomb at St Praxed’s, The | |
Two in the Campagna | |
Vanity, saith the Preacher, vanity! | |
Waring | |
What’s become of Waring | |
Where the quiet-coloured end of evening smiles | |
[’Will sprawl, now that the heat of day is best, | |
Would that the structure brave, the manifold music I build | |
Youth and Art |