| Title/From | Begins | Poet |
| The Ballad of Chevy Chase |
It fell about the Lammas tide, | Anonymous |
| Horatius | But meanwhile axe and lever | Lord Macaulay |
| The Armada | From Eddystone to Berwick bounds, | Lord Macaulay |
| Don Juan | The isles of Greece! the isles of Greece! | Lord Byron |
| Epitaph on an Army of Mercenaries. | These, in the day when heaven was falling, | A E Housman |
| Faerie Queene | The sixth was August, being rich arrayed | Edmund Spenser |
| The Lady of Shalott | A bow-shot from her bower eaves, | Alfred Lord Tennyson |
| The Princess | Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white; | Alfred Lord Tennyson |
| On First Looking into Chapman’s Homer | Much have I travelled in the realms of gold | John Keats |