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Home  »  The Oxford Book of English Verse  »  Fain would I change that note to Hyd, Absolon, thy gilte tresses clere

Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. 1919. The Oxford Book of English Verse: 1250–1900.

Index of First Lines

Fain would I change that note to Hyd, Absolon, thy gilte tresses clere

 
Fain would I change that note
Fair Amoret is gone astray
Fair and fair, and twice so fair
Fair daffodils, we weep to see
Fair is my Love and cruel as she ‘s fair
Fair pledges of a fruitful tree
Fair ship, that from the Italian shore
Fair stood the wind for France
False though she be to me and love
False world, good night! since thou hast brought
Farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing
Fear no more the heat o’ the sun
Fierce exulting worlds, the motes in rays
Fine knacks for ladies! cheap, choice, brave, and new
First came the primrose
Flowers nodding gaily, scent in air
Fly envious Time, till thou run out thy race
Fly hence, shadows, that do keep
Follow a shadow, it still flies you
Follow thy fair sun, unhappy shadow!
Follow your saint, follow with accents sweet!
Foolish prater, what dost thou
For a name unknown
Forbear, bold youth; all ‘s heaven here
Forget not yet the tried intent
For her gait, if she be walking
For knighthood is not in the feats of warre
Forward youth that would appear
Fra bank to bank, fra wood to wood I rin
Fresh Spring, the herald of loves mighty king
From harmony, from heavenly harmony
From low to high doth dissolution climb
From the forests and highlands
From you have I been absent in the spring
From you, Ianthe, little troubles pass
Full fathom five thy father lies

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may
Get up, get up for shame! The blooming morn
Give all to love
Give a man a horse he can ride
Give me my scallop-shell of quiet
Give pardon, blessèd soul, to my bold cries
Give place, you ladies, and begone
Glories of our blood and state
Go and catch a falling star
God Lyaeus, ever young
God of our fathers, known of old
God who created me
Go fetch to me a pint o’ wine
Go, for they call you, Shepherd, from the hill
Go from me. Yet I feel that I shall stand
Go, lovely Rose
Gone were but the winter cold
Good-morrow to the day so fair
Gray sea and the long black land
Great men have been among us; hands that penn’d

Had we but world enough, and time
Hail, beauteous stranger of the grove!
Hail holy light, ofspring of Heav’n first-born
Hail to thee, blithe spirit!
Hail, sister springs
Hallow the threshold, crown the posts anew!
Hame, hame, hame, O hame fain wad I be
Happy those early days, when I
Hark! ah, the Nightingale!
Hark! hark! the lark at heaven’s gate sings
Hark! Now everything is still
Heap cassia, sandal-buds and stripes
Hear the voice of the Bard
Hear, ye ladies that despise
He first deceased; she for a little tried
He has conn’d the lesson now
Helen, thy beauty is to me
Hence, all you vain delights
Hence, heart, with her that must depart
Hence loathèd Melancholy
Hence vain deluding joyes
Here a little child I stand
Here a pretty baby lies
Here, ever since you went abroad
Here in this sequester’d close
Here she lies, a pretty bud
Her eyes the glow-worm lend thee
He that is by Mooni now
He that is down needs fear no fall
He that loves a rosy cheek
He who has once been happy is for aye
Hey nonny no!
Hey! now the day dawis
Hierusalem, my happy home
High-spirited friend
Highway, since you my chief Parnassus be
His golden locks Time hath to silver turn’d
How happy is he born and taught
How like a Winter hath my absence been
How many times do I love thee, dear?
How near me came the hand of Death
How sleep the brave, who sink to rest
How vainly men themselves amaze
Hush! my dear, lie still and slumber
Hyd, Absolon, thy gilte tresses clere