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• You want to know what’s the matter with me, do yer? by Amy Lowell
• You waves, though you dance by my feet like children at play, by William Butler Yeats
• You were a gipsy as you bent by John Freeman
• You were forever finding some new play. by Robert Frost
• You were glad to-night: and now you’ve gone away. by Siegfried Sassoon
• You were not over-patient with me, dear; by Paul Verlaine
• You who have lived in the land, by Robert Service
• You who know what easeful arms by Thomas Runciman
• You whom the kings saluted; who refused not by G. K. Chesterton
• You will be what you will to be; by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
• You will come one day in a waver of love, by Carl Sandburg
• You will come, my bird, Bonita? by Joaquin Miller
• You will find me drinking rum, by G. K. Chesterton
• You with the hawk’s eyes and the nerves of steel, by R. C. Lehmann
• You would have understood me, had you waited; by Ernest Dowson
• You would not believe, would you by Edgar Lee Masters
• You young friskies who today by Robert Graves
• You’ll find—it when you try to die— by Emily Dickinson
• You’ll know Her—by Her Foot— by Emily Dickinson
• You’ll know it—as you know ’tis Noon— by Emily Dickinson
• You’ll love me yet!—and I can tarry by Robert Browning
• You’ll take my tale with a little salt, by Adam Lindsay Gordon
• You’ll wait a long, long time for anything much by Robert Frost
• You’re right—”the way is narrow”— by Emily Dickinson
• You’re twenty-one to-day, Willie, by Alice Duer Miller
• You’ve heard of Belching Billy, likewise known as Windy Bill, by Robert Service
• You’ve heard of Julot the apache, and Gigolette, his mome. . . . by Robert Service
• You’ve heard of Violet de Vere, strip-teaser of renown, by Robert Service
• You’ve read of several kinds of Cat, by T. S. Eliot
• You’ve seen Balloons set—Haven’t You? by Emily Dickinson
• You’ve seen his place, I reckon, friend? by Isabella Valancy Crawford
• You, Dinah! Come and set me whar de ribber-roads does meet. by Sidney Lanier
• You, if you were sensible, by D. H. Lawrence
• You, my photographer, you, most aware, by Delmore Schwartz
• You, who despise the so-called fairer sex, by Alice Duer Miller
• Young Algernon, the Doctor’s Son, by Hilaire Belloc
• Young and a conqueror, once on a day, by E. (Edith) Nesbit
• Young as the Spring seemed life when she by John Freeman
• Young Croesus went to pay his call by Siegfried Sassoon
• Young Love lies sleeping by Christina Rossetti
• Young man, gather gold and gear, by Robert Service
• Young Mary stole along the vale, by Isabella Valancy Crawford
• Young Mary, loitering once her garden way, by Rupert Brooke
• Young Oak! when I planted thee deep in the ground, by George Gordon Lord Byron
• Young palmer sun, that to these shining sands by Sidney Lanier
• Your attention, Thomas Rhodes, president of the bank; by Edgar Lee Masters
• Your bow swept over a string, and a long low note by Carl Sandburg
• Your dear desired grace, by E. (Edith) Nesbit
• Your dextrous wit will haunt us long by Siegfried Sassoon
• Your eyen two wol slee me sodenly, by Geoffrey Chaucer
• Your eyes and the valley are memories. by Carl Sandburg
• Your eyes drink of me, by Sara Teasdale
• Your face has lost by John Freeman
• Your face was lifted to the golden sky by Wilfrid Wilson Gibson
• Your fine white hand is Heaven’s gift by Vachel Lindsay
• Your gran’ma, in her youth, was quite by Eugene Field
• Your hands lie open in the long fresh grass,— by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
• Your hands, my dear, adorable, by Rupert Brooke
• Your hands, your hands, by John Freeman
• Your heart has trembled to my tongue, by William Ernest Henley
• Your hooves have stamped at the black margin of the wood, by William Butler Yeats
• Your innocents by Joseph Mayo Wristen
• Your kiss lies on my face by Mary Carolyn Davies
• your little voice by E. E. Cummings
• Your love and pity doth th’ impression fill by William Shakespeare
• Your love was like moonlight by Lola Ridge
• Your mind and you are our Sargasso Sea, by Ezra Pound
• Your pardon, my friend, by George Gordon Lord Byron
• Your peaks are beautiful, ye Apennines! by William Cullen Bryant
• Your pen needs but a ruffle by Vachel Lindsay
• Your picture smiles as first it smiled, by Ralph Waldo Emerson
• Your picture, slung about my neck by Elizabeth Stoddard
• Your place is Heaven, a stormless nightless home? by Thomas Runciman
• Your presence like a benison to me by Paul Laurence Dunbar
• Your red blossoms amid green leaves by Edgar Lee Masters
• Your Riches—taught me—Poverty. by Emily Dickinson
• Your rondeau’s tale must still be light— by Don Marquis
• Your sky is a hard and a dazzling blue, by Emily Lawless
• Your soul is as a moonlit landscape fair, by Paul Verlaine
• Your spoken words are roses fine and sweet, by Paul Laurence Dunbar
• Your subjects hope, dread Sire— by Phillis Wheatley
• Your thighs are appletrees by William Carlos Williams
• Your thoughts don’t have words every day by Emily Dickinson
• Your touch on my hand is fire, by E. (Edith) Nesbit
• Your triolet should glimmer by Don Marquis
• Your troubles shrink not, though I feel them less by Thomas Hardy
• Your western heads here cast on money, by Carl Sandburg
• Your white shoulders by Carl Sandburg
• Your whitelight flashes the frost to-night by Carl Sandburg
• yours is the music for no instrument by E. E. Cummings
• Yours is the shame and sorrow by D. H. Lawrence
• Youth dreams of all the years shall hold,— by John L. Stoddard
• Youth is the season of revolt; at twenty-five by Don Marquis
• Youth is the time when hearts are large, by Herman Melville
• Youth of delight come hither. by William Blake
• Zacho the King rode out of old by James Elroy Flecker
• Zut! it’s two o’clock. by Robert Service
• [and scarcely worth the trouble, at that] by Dorothy Parker
• [first version] by Emily Dickinson

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