Great spirits now on earth are sojourning
Much have I travelled in the realms of gold
On the sea
Wherein lies happiness?
On sitting down to read King Lear once again
Bright star! Would I were steadfast as thou
Old Meg she was a gipsy
Deep in the shady sadness of a vale
A casement high and triple-arched there was
Ode to a nightingale
Ode on melancholy
Why did I laugh tonight? No voice will tell
La belle dame sans merci
Ode on a Grecian urn
To sleep
Ode to Psyche
A haunting music, sole perhaps and lone
To autumn
This living hand, now warm and capable
When I have fears that I may cease to be
From Endymion
Fancy
There was a naughty boy
The eve of St. Agnes.