A whirl-blast from behind the hill
Glad sight wherever new with old
Strange fits of passion have I known
She dwelt among the untrodden ways
I travelled among unknown men
Three years she grew in sun and shower
The Reverie of Poor Susan
Resolution and independence
If this great world of joy and pain
A slumber did my spirit seal
Ode on the intimations of immorality
Has thou seen, with flash incessant
I wandered lonely as a cloud
Character of the happy warrier
My heart leaps up when I behold
Lines written in early Spring
She was a phantom of delight
At the grave of Burns, 1803
Yes, it was the mountain echo
I grieved for Buonaparté
Great men have been among us
It is not to be thought of
When I have borne in memory
On the subjugation of Switzerland
On the extinction of the Venetian Republic
Composed upon Westminister Bridge
Surprised by joy-Impatient as the wind
It is a beauteous evening
The world is too much with us
