| A | B |
|---|
| He gave to Misery all he had, a tear | Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard |
| But most thro’ midnight streets I hear How the youthful Harlots curse Blasts the new-born Infants tear | London |
| I have no name / I am but two days old. | Infant Joy |
| Bound and weary I thought best / To sulk upon my mothers breast. | Infant Sorrow |
| He is meek & he is mild, He became a little child: | The Lamb |
| When the stars threw down their spears / And water'd heaven with their tears | The Tyger |
| I gazed—and gazed—but little thought / What wealth the show to me had brought | Daffodils |
| And I could wish my days to be / Bound each to each by natural piety | The Rainbow |
| Alone, alone, all, all alone, Alone on a wide wide sea! | the Rime of the Ancient Mariner |
| If even I were as in my boyhood, and could be The comrade of thy wanderings over Heaven | Ode to the West Wind |
