A beggar through the world am I, 5.
A camel-driver, angry with his drudge, 432.
A heap of bare and splintery crags, 302.
A hundred years! they 're quickly fled, 427.
A legend that grew in the forest's hush, 74.
A lily thou wast when I saw thee first, 10.
A poet cannot strive for despotism, 23.
A presence both by night and day, 302.
A race of nobles may die out, 100.

A stranger came one night to Yussouf's tent,

318.

About the oak that framed this chair, of old,
385.

Alike I hate to be your debtor, 327.

Along a river-side, I know not where, 334.
Amid these fragments of heroic days, 404.
An ass munched thistles, while a nightingale,
432.

"And how could you dream of meeting?" 408.
Another star 'neath Time's horizon dropped,
105.

Are we, then, wholly fallen? Can it be, 97.
As a twig trembles, which a bird, 89.

As, cleansed of Tiber's and Oblivion's slime,
387.

As, flake by flake, the beetling avalanches, 91.
As life runs on, the road grows strange, 433.
As sinks the sun behind yon alien hills, 404.
As the broad ocean endlessly upheaveth, 22.
At Carnac in Brittany, close on the bay, 395.
At length arrived, your book I take, 382.
At twenty we fancied the blest Middle Ages,
426.

Ay, pale and silent maiden, 18.

B, taught by Pope to do his good by stealth,
432.

Beauty on my hearth-stone blazing! 320.
Beloved, in the noisy city here, 22.
Beneath the trees, 338.

Bowing thyself in dust before a Book, 99.

Can this be thou who, lean and pale, 87.
Come back before the birds are flown, 400.
"Come forth!" my catbird calls to me, 331.
Curtis, whose Wit, with Fancy arm in arm,
388.

Dear common flower, that grow'st beside the
way, 83.
Dear M.

By way of saving time, 111.

Dear Sir, - You wish to know my notions, 204.
Dear Sir, Your letter come to han', 275.
Dear Wendell, why need count the years, 381.
Death never came so nigh to me before, 87.
Don't believe in the Flying Dutchman? 422.
Down 'mid the tangled roots of things, 325.

Full oft the pathway to her door, 433.

Giddings, far rougher names than thine have
grown, 25.

Go! leave me, Priest; my soul would be, 75.
God! do not let my loved one die, 15.
God makes sech nights, all white an' still, 219.
God sends his teachers unto every age, 46.
Godminster? Is it Fancy's play? 297.
Gold of the reddening sunset, backward thrown,
406.

Gone, gone from us! and shall we see, 1.
Great soul, thou sittest with me in my room, 20.
Great truths are portions of the soul of man, 20.
Guvener B. is a sensible man, 188.

I had a little daughter, 89.

I have a fancy: how shall I bring it, 411.

I hed it on my min' las' time, when I to write
ye started, 242.

I know a falcon swift and peerless, 48.

I love to start out arter night 's begun, 233.
I need not praise the sweetness of his
song, 330.
I rise, Mr. Chairman, as both of us know, 430.
I sat and watched the walls of night, 410.
I sat one evening in my room, 80.
I saw a Sower walking slow, 60.

I saw the twinkle of white feet, 65.

I sent you a message, my friens, t' other day,

249.

I spose you recollect thet I explained my gennle
views, 212.

I spose you wonder ware I be; I can't tell, fer
the soul o' me, 207.

I swam with undulation soft, 326.

I thank ye, my frien's, for the warmth o' your
greetin', 255.

I thought our love at full, but I did err, 25.
I treasure in secret some long, fine hair, 307.
I, walking the familiar street, 396.

I was with thee in Heaven: I cannot tell, 403.
I watched a moorland torrent run, 410.

I went to seek for Christ, 66.

I would more natures were like thine, 10.

I would not have this perfect love of ours, 20.
If he be a nobler lover, take him! 438.
If I let fall a word of bitter mirth, 360.
If I were the rose at your window, 433.
In a small chamber, friendless and unseen, 103.
In good old times, which means, you know, 438.
In his tower sat the poet, 16.

In life's small things be resolute and great, 432.
In the old days of awe and keen-eyed wonder,
11.

In town I hear, scarce wakened yet, 402.

In vain we call old notions fudge, 433.

Into the sunshine, 11.

It don't seem hardly right, John, 238.

It is a mere wild rosebud, 44.

It mounts athwart the windy hill, 333.

It was past the hour of trysting, 78.

It's some consid'ble of a spell sence I hain't
writ no letters, 223.

Leaves fit to have been poor Juliet's cradle-
rhyme, 387.

Let others wonder what fair face, 437.
Light of triumph in her eyes, 408.

Look on who will in apathy, and stifle they
who can, 82.

Looms there the New Land, 313.

Maiden, when such a soul as thine is born, 21.
Mary, since first I knew thee, to this hour, 23.

My name is Water: I have sped, 96.

My soul was like the sea, 9.

My worthy friend, A. Gordon Knott, 149.

Never, surely, was holier man, 77.

New England's poet, rich in love as years, 386.
Nine years have slipt like hour-glass sand, 300.
No? Hez he? He haint, though? Wut?
Voted agin him? 192.

Nor deemed he lived unto himself alone, 384.
Not always unimpeded can I pray, 294.
Not as all other women are, 6.

Now Biörn, the son of Heriulf, had ill days,

311.

O days endeared to every Muse, 423.
"O Dryad feet," 407.

O dwellers in the valley-land, 78.

O Land of Promise! from what Pisgah's height,
64.

O moonlight deep and tender, 19.

O wandering dim on the extremest edge, 63.
Of all the myriad moods of mind, 91.
Oft round my hall of portraiture I gaze, 403.
Oh, tell me less or tell me more, 402.

Old events have modern meanings; only that
survives, 315.

Old Friend, farewell! Your kindly door again,
384.

On this wild waste, where never blossom came,
437.

Once git a smell o' musk into a draw, 260.
Once hardly in a cycle blossometh, 22.
Once on a time there was a pool, 248.
One after one the stars have risen and set, 39.
One feast, of holy days the crest, 319.
One kiss from all others prevents me, 402.
Opening one day a book of mine, 409.
Our love is not a fading, earthly flower, 24.
Our ship lay tumbling in an angry sea, 339.
Over his keys the musing organist, 106.

Phœbus, sitting one day in a laurel-tree's shade,

She gave me all that woman can, 400.
Shell, whose lips, than mine more cold, 411.
Ship, blest to bear such freight across the blue,
386.

Shy soul and stalwart, man of patient will, 384.
Silencioso por la puerta, 403.

Sisters two, all praise to you, 61.

Skilled to pull wires, he baffles Nature's hope,
433.

Sleep is Death's image, - poets tell us so, 400.
So dreamy-soft the notes, so far away, 406.
Some sort of heart I know is hers, 85.
Sometimes come pauses of calm, when the rapt
bard, holding his heart back, 398.
Somewhere in India, upon a time, 161.
Spirit, that rarely comest now, 323.
Still thirteen years: 't is autumn now, 308.
Stood the tall Archangel weighing, 436.
Strong, simple, silent are the [steadfast] laws,
439.

Swiftly the politic goes: is it dark? -he bor-
rows a lantern, 432.

The Maple puts her corals on in May, 405.
The misspelt scrawl, upon the wall, 430.
The moon shines white and silent, 15.

The New World's sons, from England's breasts
we drew, 432.

The next whose fortune 't was a tale to tell, 412.
The night is dark, the stinging sleet, 14.

The old Chief, feeling now wellnigh his end, 53.
The path from me to you that led, 398.
The pipe came safe, and welcome too, 383.
The rich man's son inherits lands, 15.
The same good blood that now refills, 96.
The sea is lonely, the sea is dreary, 2.
The snow had begun in the gloaming, 292.
The tower of old Saint Nicholas soared upward
to the skies, 59.

The wind is roistering out of doors, 285.

The wisest man could ask no more of Fate, 385.
The world turns mild; democracy, they say,

425.

There are who triumph in a losing cause, 102.
There came a youth upon the earth, 44.
There lay upon the ocean's shore, 294.
There never yet was flower fair in vain, 21.
Therefore think not the Past is wise alone, 23.
These pearls of thought in Persian gulfs were
bred, 382.

These rugged, wintry days I scarce could bear,
24.

They pass me by like shadows, crowds on
crowds, 24.

Thick-rushing, like an ocean vast, 10.

This is the midnight of the century, -hark!
295.

This kind o' sogerin' aint a mite like our Oc-
tober trainin', 184.

This little blossom from afar, 5.

Thou look'dst on me all yesternight, 17.
Thou wast the fairest of all man-made things,
436.

Though old the thought and oft exprest, 295.
Thrash away, you'll hev to rattle, 181.
Through suffering and sorrow thou hast passed,

19.

Thy love thou sentest oft to me, 75.

Thy voice is like a fountain, 8.

'Tis a woodland enchanted! 316.

To those who died for her on land and sea,
432.

True as the sun's own work, but more refined,
385.

True Love is a humble, low-born thing, 8.
Turbid from London's noise and smoke, 400.
'T was sung of old in hut and hall, 398.
'T were no hard task, perchance, to win, 336.
Two brothers once, an ill-matched pair, 176.
Two fellers, Isrel named and Joe, 176.

Unconscious as the sunshine, simply sweet, 385.
Unseen Musician, thou art sure to please, 438.
Untremulous in the river clear, 7.

Violet! sweet violet! 17.

Wait a little: do we not wait? 324.
Walking alone where we walked together, 402.
We see but half the causes of our deeds, 49.
We, too, have autumns, when our leaves, 97.
We wagered, she for sunshine, I for rain, 433.
Weak-winged is song, 342.

What boot your houses and your lands? 61.
What countless years and wealth of brain were
spent, 406.

"What fairings will ye that I bring?" 293.
What gnarled stretch, what depth of shade, is
his! 76.

What hath Love with Thought to do? 438.
What know we of the world immense, 433.
What man would live coffined with brick and
stone, 90.

What mean these banners spread, 407.
"What means this glory round our feet," 403.
What Nature makes in any mood, 301.
What visionary tints the year puts on, 69.
What were I, Love, if I were stripped of thee,
20.

What were the whole void world, if thou wert
dead, 407.

When a deed is done for Freedom, through the
broad earth's aching breast, 67.
When I was a beggarly boy, 300.

When oaken woods with buds are pink, 397.
When Persia's sceptre trembled in a hand, 291.
When the down is on the chin, 408.