POST................1 And he must post without delay Idiot Boy
POSTS...............2 While to the town she posts away; Idiot Boy Away she posts up hill and down, Idiot Boy
POTTAGE.............1 By the same fire to boil their pottage, Goody Blake
POTTERS.............1 Of potters wandering on from door to door: Female Vagrant
POUREST.............1 Thou pourest on him thy soft influences, Dungeon
POURING.............1 Who, pouring here a [3]later ditty, Near Richmond
POURS...............1 The rain pours down from one black cloud Ancyent Marinere V
POURTRAYED..........1 But life of happier sort to me pourtrayed, Female Vagrant
POURTRAYS...........1 Yet my fancy has pierced to his heart, and pourtrays Convict
POVERTY.............2 And perish all of poverty. Last of the Flock By ignorance and poaching poverty, Dungeon
POW'R...............2 Alas! it has no pow'r to stay: Lewti Had I the enviable pow'r Lewti
POWER...............5 I have strange power of speech; Ancyent Marinere VII And from the blessed power that rolls Lines near my House While with an eye made quiet by the power Tintern Abbey Of harmony, and the deep power of joy, Tintern Abbey Not harsh or grating, though of ample power Tintern Abbey
POWERS..............2 By virtue's holiest powers attended. Near Richmond "Nor less I deem that there are powers, Expostulation
PRAISE..............1 To Mary-queen the praise be yeven Ancyent Marinere V
PRAISES.............1 And thanks and praises seemed to run Simon Lee
PRAY...............17 I look'd to Heaven, and try'd to pray; Ancyent Marinere IV The self-same moment I could pray; Ancyent Marinere IV Ne turn them up to pray. Ancyent Marinere VI And I with sobs did pray -- Ancyent Marinere VI And all together pray, Ancyent Marinere VII And though he prayed, he never loved to pray Foster-Mother I could not pray: -- through tears that fell in showers, Female Vagrant Thus on her knees did Goody pray, Goody Blake Now think, ye farmers all, I pray, Goody Blake Edward will come with you, and pray, Lines near my House The come, my sister! come, I pray, Lines near my House "And where are they, I pray you tell?" We Are Seven "Yet you are seven; I pray you tell We Are Seven I pray thee have no fear of me, Mad Mother And every day we two will pray Mad Mother "My Johnny do, I pray you do." Idiot Boy And pray that never child of Song Near Richmond
PRAY'D..............4 I pray'd and turn'd my head away Ancyent Marinere VI And pray'd where he did sit. Ancyent Marinere VII And kneeling on the sticks, she pray'd Goody Blake She pray'd, her wither'd hand uprearing, Goody Blake
PRAYED..............3 And though he prayed, he never loved to pray Foster-Mother Bidding me trust in God, he stood and prayed, -- Female Vagrant I prayed, yet every day I thought Last of the Flock
PRAYER..............6 But or ever a prayer had gusht, Ancyent Marinere IV Which biddeth me to prayer. Ancyent Marinere VII And never learnt a prayer, nor told a bead, Foster-Mother By constant prayer supplied. Female Vagrant Then off she hies, but with a prayer Idiot Boy My dear, dear Sister! And this prayer I make, Tintern Abbey
PRAYERS.............2 And in his hearing there my prayers I said: Female Vagrant In such dismay my prayers and tears were vain: Female Vagrant
PRAYETH.............2 He prayeth well who loveth well Ancyent Marinere VII He prayeth best who loveth best, Ancyent Marinere VII
PREACHER............1 And he is no mean preacher; Tables Turned
PRECEDES............1 While the joy that precedes the calm season of rest Convict
PRECIOUS............2 Sir! 'twas a precious flock to me, Last of the Flock He saves for me my precious soul; Mad Mother
PRECIPITATES........1 That crowds, and hurries, and precipitates Nightingale
PREFACED............1 She prefaced half a hint of this Idiot Boy
PREPARED............1 And scorn, against all enemies prepared, Yew-Tree near Esthwaite
PRESENCE............1 A presence that disturbs me with the joy Tintern Abbey
PRESENT.............1 Of present pleasure, but with pleasing thoughts Tintern Abbey
PRESS...............1 Oh! press me with thy little hand; Mad Mother
PRESS'D.............2 I feel thy little fingers press'd. Mad Mother When his fetters at night have so press'd on his limbs, Convict
PRETTY..............7 And so the babe grew up a pretty boy, Foster-Mother A pretty boy, but most unteachable -- Foster-Mother The young lambs ran a pretty race; Anecdote for Fathers The pretty flock which I had reared Last of the Flock My pretty thing! then thou shalt sing, Mad Mother If thou art mad, my pretty lad, Mad Mother Then, pretty dear, be not afraid; Mad Mother
