Chapter 53

There be none of Beauty's daughters (_Poems 1814-1816_), iii. 435

There is a mystic thread of life (_Hours of Idleness_), i. 234

There is a tear for all that die (_Poems 1814-1816_), iii. 417

There is a tide in the affairs of men (_Don Juan_, Canto VI.), vi. 268

There is no more for me to hope (_Jeux d'Esprit, etc._), vii. 15

There was a time, I need not name (_Hours of Idleness_), i. 264

There's not a joy the world can give like that it takes away (_Poems 1814-1816_), iii. 423

There's something in a stupid ass (_Jeux d'Esprit, etc._), vii. 63

These locks, which fondly thus entwine (_Hours of Idleness_), i. 36

They say that Hope is happiness (_Poems 1814-1816_), iii. 438

Thine eyes' blue tenderness, thy long fair hair (_Poems 1809-1813_), iii. 70, _390_

Think'st thou I saw thy beauteous eyes (_Hours of Idleness_), i. 8

This Band, which bound thy yellow hair (_Hours of Idleness_), i. 212

This day, of all our days, has done (_Jeux d'Esprit, etc._). vii. 71

This faint resemblance of thy charms (_Hours of Idleness_), i. 32, _36_

This votive pledge of fond esteem (_Hours of Idleness_), i. 78

Those flaxen locks, those eyes of blue (_Hours of Idleness_), i. 260

Thou art not false, but thou art fickle (_Poems 1809-1818_), iii. 64

_Thou_ lay thy branch of _laurel_ down (_Jeux d'Esprit, etc._), vii. 19

Thou Power! who hast ruled me through Infancy's days (_Hours of Idleness_), i. 254

Thou whose spell can raise the dead (_Hebrew Melodies_), iii. 392

Though the day of my Destiny's over (_Poems of July-September, 1816_), iv. 54

Through cloudless skies, in silvery sheen (_Poems 1809-1818_), iii. 11

Through Life's dull road, so dim and dirty (_Jeux d'Esprit, etc._), vii. 73

Through thy battlements, Newstead, the hollow winds whistle (_Hours of Idleness_), i. 1

Thy cheek is pale with thought, but not from woe (_Poems 1809-1813_), iii. 71

Thy days are done, thy fame begun (_Hebrew Melodies_), iii. 391

Thy verse is "sad" enough, no doubt (_Hours of Idleness_), i. 252

Time! on whose arbitrary wing (_Poems 1809-1813_), iii. 60

'T is done--and shivering in the gale (_Hours of Idleness_), i. 285

'T is done--but yesterday a King! (_Ode to Napoleon Buonaparte_), iii. 305

'T is done--I saw it in my dreams (_Hours of Idleness_), i. 211

'T is fifty years, and yet their fray (_Poems 1816-1823_), iv. 542

'T is known, at least it should be, that throughout (_Beppo_), iv. 159

'T is midnight--but it is not dark (_Poems 1816-1823_), iv. 537

'T is time this heart should be unmoved (_Jeux d'Esprit, etc._), vii. 86

Titan! to whose immortal eyes (_Poems of July-September, 1816_), iv. 48

To be the father of the fatherless (_Poems 1816-1823_), iv. 548

To hook the Reader, you, John Murray (_Jeux d'Esprit, etc._), vii. 44

'T was after dread Pultowa's day (_Maseppa_), iv. 207

'T was now the hour, when Night had driven (_Hours of Idleness_), i. 149

'T was now the noon of night, and all was still (_Hours of Idleness_),