xv. 26
Here’s my case.  Of old I used to love him xiv. 54
Here’s the garden she walked across vi. 19
Here was I with my arm and heart vii. 94
High in the dome, suspended, of Hell, sad triumph,
  behold us! xv. 199
Hist, but a word, fair and soft! vi. 196
How of his fate, the Pilgrims’ soldier-guide xvi. 40
How very hard it is to be v. 264
How well I know what I mean to do vi. 126

I and Clive were friends—­and why not?  Friends!  I think
  you laugh, my lad xv. 88
I am a goddess of the ambrosial courts iv. 181
I am indeed the personage you know xiv. 86
I am poor brother Lippo, by your leave! iv. 205
I could have painted pictures like that youth’s iv. 202
I dream of a red-rose tree vi. 180
I know a Mount, the gracious Sun perceives iv. 294
I leaned on the turf vii. 54
I—­“Next Poet?” No, my hearties xiv. 31
I only knew one poet in my life iv. 176
I said—­Then, dearest, since ’t is so v. 96
I send my heart up to thee, all my heart v. 66
I sprang to the stirrup, and Joris, and he vi. 9
I’ve a Friend, over the sea v. 44
I will be quiet and talk with you vii. 51
I wish that when you died last May vii. 165
I wonder do you feel to-day vi. 150
If a stranger passed the tent of Hoseyn, he cried “A
  churl’s!” xv. 108
If one could have that little head of hers vii. 176
Is all our fire of shipwreck wood vii. 47
It is a lie—­their Priests, their Pope vi. 34
It once might have been, once only vii. 171
It was roses, roses, all the way v. 6

June was not over vi. 161
Just for a handful of silver he left us vi. 7

Karshish, the picker up of learning’s crumbs iv. 186
Kentish Sir Byng stood for his King vi. 3
King Charles, and who’ll do him right now? vi. 5
“Knowledged deposed, then!”—­groaned whom that most
  grieved xvi. 62

Let them fight it out, friend! things have gone too far vi. 183
Let’s contend no more, Love vi. 48
Let us begin and carry up this corps v. 154
“Look, I strew beans” xvi. 69