Lancashire Lantern: Lancashire Poetry Index

Part of the Lancashire Lantern network, an index to authors, first lines and titles of Lancashire poetry in books held within libraries in Lancashire, including the Lancashire Authors’ Association collection. The index provides details of the book in which a particular poem may be found and also a link through to the library catalogue to give the locations of the required volume.

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A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

Records 1 to 200 of 1443

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I' Accrington ther's bin sitch gram as ne'er wur known afooar

I allus wanted a baby doll

I always am pleasant

I am a bee

I am a bold otter, as you shall hear

I am a child of the sun

I am a famous astronaut

I am a freedom-fighter. I kill and maim

I am a good creeper

I am a jealous God!, so runs the words

I am a lad of wax

I am a little valentine

I am a man with children

I am a master of my kite, and

I am a pirate, a funky little pirate

I am a ploughboy, bending forth with grace

I am a poor old moocher at the age of eighty-three

I am a poor workman, as rich as a Jew

I am a priest of nature, and I preach

I am a violin

I am as one beset by storm and night

I am at best a bellows-blowing Blade

I am back again in boyhood

I am constrained, restrained, cannot escape their beating

I am content, I do not care

I am dreaming, I am dreaming

I am gathering dewy violets

I am going on a journey, Jimmy, where there is no night

I am happy

I am hungry and you feed me

I am I, the world beyond is nought

I am jobless, I am worthless, I am homeless

I am just a little man who no heroic deed has done

I am leaving behind the old land

I am lost among a maze of stars

I am master of my fate,' he thundered

I am not mad - I am not mad

I am nothing

I am pleased with the present you sent me

I am singing, I am singing

I am sinking, sister, sinking

I am speeding down the highway at full forty miles per hour

I am that chappie, with head bowed and bent

I am the miner

I am Thine, and all my foes

I am tired of it and so are you

I am waiting in the forest where the leaves are turning golden

I am weary of the bawling

I am weary with the city, with its turmoil and its din

I arrived a boy in Vietnam

I arrived in Hong Kong its temperature so lavish

I ask naught of thee this night Lord

I ask no other sympathy

I ask the question, What is death?

I ask what friendship's value is

I asked of heaven and earth and sea

I asked the lily's pure white bell

I awoke in the depth of a starless night

I' Bacup we an wad we think is unique

I beheld an oak, a goodly oak

I being here and now

I believe aar Maggie's coortin'

I believe in Nothing

I believe that there's Somebody up there

I belong nowhere

I belong to the northlands

I blame you for the ills you do not know

I brought her nothing but the may

I brought my flowers to the market

I brought you a bunch of flowers

I built a dyke to hold my memories back

I built a pleasure house of gold

I built for Love a temple fair

I call him Stan for short

I call this Hill Top - yet

I called for Doris at eight o'clock

I called her a duck and she called me a goose

I called on my hairdresser for a needed style

I called thee 'wild', but, Thursden, nevermore

I came quite early in the day to Cefalu

I can easily fling

I can fly, I can fly

I can only pour it out this way

I can see his old brown ganzy now

I can see the city of my dreams arising

I cannot rest within the house

I cannot sing - oh no, not I

I cannot write of afternoons like those

I can't heat your voice. Have you lost your tongue

I can't live on this pension

I can't wait until tomorrow

I carried Him from Bethelem

I caught a fly

I climb the rough stairs up the moor

I climb up toward the mountain's brow

I climbed high into the tree

I close your Marlowe's page, my Shakespeare's ope

I come from land of sunny clime

I come now at length, full of years, at the end of my days

I come o'er the mountains, hills and plains

I come to thee, O earth

I come to you now to woo your mind

I consider I have lived through the best times

I could be anywhere

I could chose round and round

I could record with no reluctant voice

I couldn't live on your hills, she said

I cradled my baby once in the cushion of my arms

I created for myself

I cross'd pynot, an' t' pynot cross'd me

I cut my head into

I deemed my affections were destined no more

I did not know that so much charm

I did not seek life

I didn't mean to kill so live a thing

I dislike Good Women

I do love Ma - a little boy

I do not ask from life a path of ease

I do not count the hours when thou art gone

I do not hold that stars can know my truths

I do not judge the world: how should I so?

I do not long to scale the heights of fame

I do not smile because I am happy

I do not want a Mansion, Lord

I do not want the thing that men call love

I do not wish to stagnate

I don't hear t'chatter o'clogshod feet

I don't know what I must favour

I don't like repetitive noises

I don't like that dinner lady who serves the chips

I don't like the poems they're making me write

I don't remember what day it was

I don't want my son in battledress

I don't want to be the chairman. He

I don't want to take up so much of your time

I dream of your old houses

I dreamed a dream. 'Twas in a garden fair

I dreamed of home and clouds on Pendle Hill

I dreamt a dream in the Summer's glow

I dreamt of war, and cities wrapt in flame

I dreamt that I soared far away in the skies

I drink to John's good memory, Bob

I duly received your kind notice to dine

I dwell in lands whose beauty is unknown

I' eaur owd glass weshahse

I entered Fingal's cave, where some have learned

I entered in the gloomy vale Vale of Tears

I' every walk we plant eawr feet

I' ev'ry spooart ther's sartin sayin's

I expected to be burgled but was flooded

I explain quietly. You

I fall in love a hundred times a day!

I feel that age has overta'en

I fell asleep, and in my sleep I dreamt

I fell down, down, down

I felt dirty having to write this poem

I first laid eyes upon your face

I fled Him, down the nights and down the days

I fling to the sky

I followed the signs; turned left, turned right

I found a book to read one night

I found a little alien last night

I found a withered rose bud among my treasures rare

I found I was looking, not in a mirror

I found it in a junk shop

I found the other day, a country rose

I found thee on the path, sweet mignonette

I gave you my heart

I gazed o'er the blue, still waters wide

I geet up a-milkin' this mornin'

I get into bed and feel the soft warm covers

I go my way o'er hill and dale

i go to sleep on all fours

I go, but ere my steps depart

I got pally again with those Koala's

I had a cat called Sammy

I had a dream - a wondrous dream

I had a dream so long ago

I had a dream that wafted me far up to the City of Gold

I had a dream, one sad and restless night

I had a letter from a friend, who'd seen

I had a little peep today

I had a son, a little son

I had expected a fine austerity

I had hoped for something more commodius

I had lived in a town since the day I was three

I had no will to say what I should do

I had walked for a mile

I hail thee, because in the day of our danger

I hate winter

I have a greater heritage

I have a hobby, that hobby is dance

I have a new brother called Sam

I have a passion for the mountains; they

I have a puppy called Milo

I have a thousand messengers to bear

I have a tiger, he is blue

I have aloc of flaxen hair

I have been sitting alone

I have been wild and wayward

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