WOVEN...............1 The work had woven been, The Thorn
WRAPT...............1 He found a baby wrapt in mosses, lined Foster-Mother
WREATHES............2 The periwinkle trail'd its wreathes; Lines in Early Spring Green to the very door; and wreathes of smoke Tintern Abbey
WRENCH'D............1 Forthwith this frame of mine was wrench'd Ancyent Marinere VII
WRETCH..............3 But Oh! poor wretch! -- he read, and read, and read, Foster-Mother (And so, poor Wretch! fill'd all things with himself Nightingale The wretch on his pallet should turn, Convict
WRETCHED............4 A wretched thing forlorn. The Thorn This wretched woman thither goes, The Thorn But he, poor man! is wretched made, Mad Mother "Oh! what a wretched mother I!" Idiot Boy
WRITE...............1 He soon could write with the pen: and from that time, Foster-Mother
WRONG...............1 With the remembrance of a grievous wrong, Nightingale
WROUGHT.............2 Here will I weep in peace, (so fancy wrought,) Female Vagrant That in her womb the infant wrought The Thorn
WYE.................1 O sylvan Wye! Thou wanderer through the wood Tintern Abbey
YARDS...............4 Not five yards from the mountain-path, The Thorn And to the left, three yards beyond, The Thorn And for full fifty yards around, The Thorn That till full fifty yards were gone, Idiot Boy
YE..................5 O beauteous birds! methinks ye measure Lewti Now think, ye farmers all, I pray, Goody Blake "Then ye are only five." We Are Seven Why will ye thus my suit repel? Idiot Boy Ye muses! whom I love so well. Idiot Boy
YEA.................1 Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs Ancyent Marinere II
YEAR................8 'Till his brain turned -- and ere his twentieth year, Foster-Mother All perished -- all, in one remorseless year, Female Vagrant The opening of the year. Lines near my House We for the year to come may take Lines near my House A long, long year before. Anecdote for Fathers And every year encreas'd my store. Last of the Flock Year after year my stock it grew, Last of the Flock Year after year my stock it grew, Last of the Flock
YEAR'S..............1 And listens like a three year's child; Ancyent Marinere I
YEARN...............1 For better lore would seldom yearn, Anecdote for Fathers
YEARS..............17 The red-breast known for years, which at my casement peck'd. Female Vagrant Four years each day with daily bread was blest, Female Vagrant Three years a wanderer, often have I view'd, Female Vagrant Than fifty years of reason; Lines near my House Of years he has upon his back, Simon Lee Full five and twenty years he lived Simon Lee I have a boy of five years old, Anecdote for Fathers She was eight years old, she said; We Are Seven 'Tis now some two and twenty years, The Thorn And should he live a thousand years, Idiot Boy Five years of happiness or more, Idiot Boy These fourteen years, by strong indentures; Idiot Boy Five years have passed; five summers, with the length Tintern Abbey For future years. And so I dare to hope Tintern Abbey Through all the years of this our life, to lead Tintern Abbey To blow against thee: and in after years, Tintern Abbey That after many wanderings, many years Tintern Abbey
YELLOW..............4 Her locks are yellow as gold: Ancyent Marinere III Did glitter in the yellow moon-beam! Well -- Nightingale No wain they drove, and yet, the yellow sheaf Female Vagrant His first sweet evening yellow. Tables Turned
YESTERDAY...........1 And of my fifty, yesterday Last of the Flock
YET................41 Yet he cannot chuse but hear: Ancyent Marinere I And yet I could not die. Ancyent Marinere IV Yet never a breeze up-blew; Ancyent Marinere V It ceas'd: yet still the sails made on Ancyent Marinere V Yet never a breeze did breathe: Ancyent Marinere V Yet it felt like a welcoming. Ancyent Marinere VI Yet she sail'd softly too: Ancyent Marinere VI Beneath that tree, while yet it was a tree Foster-Mother But yet his speech, it was so soft and sweet, Foster-Mother Yet, if the wind breathe soft, the curling waves, Yew-Tree near Esthwaite Yet let us think upon the vernal showers Nightingale And yet thou didst not look unkind! Lewti Yet fair withal, as spirits are. Lewti The staff I yet remember which upbore Female Vagrant Nor yet the crowded fleet its anchor stirred. Female Vagrant Yet does that burst of woe congeal my frame, Female Vagrant No wain they drove, and yet, the yellow sheaf Female Vagrant Yet never had she, well or sick, Goody Blake Yet still his jaws and teeth they clatter, Goody Blake Yet, meet him where you will, you see Simon Lee "Yet you are seven; I pray you tell We Are Seven While yet the summer-leaves were green, The Thorn Yet often she was sober sad The Thorn And yet I have not often seen Last of the Flock Yet, so it was, a ewe I bought; Last of the Flock I prayed, yet every day I thought Last of the Flock The like was never heard of yet, Idiot Boy Yet for his life he cannot tell Idiot Boy But yet I guess that now and then Idiot Boy And Johnny is not yet in sight, Idiot Boy Fond lovers, yet not quite hob nob, Idiot Boy Beneath the moon, yet shining fair, Idiot Boy Though yet their tongues were still. Idiot Boy Vain thought! yet be as now thou art, Near Richmond And yet they are upon my eyes, Forsaken Indian And yet I am alive. Forsaken Indian Yet it is dead, and I remain. Forsaken Indian Yet my fancy has pierced to his heart, and pourtrays Convict "Would plant thee where yet thou might'st blossom again." Convict Be but a vain belief, yet, oh! how oft, Tintern Abbey Of thy wild eyes. Oh! yet a little while Tintern Abbey
