Dixon, a Choctaw, twenty years of age, 480. Don Juan has ever the grand old air, 361. Dost deem him weak that owns his strength is Down from a sunken doorstep to the road, 742. Down in the bleak December bay, 256. Do you fear the force of the wind, 656. Each golden note of music greets, 613. Edith, the silent stars are coldly gleaming, 187. Eli, Eli, lama sabacthani? 413. Enamoured architect of airy rhyme, 382. England, I stand on thy imperial ground, 594. Faint, faint and clear, 447. Fair are the flowers and the children, but their Fair flower, that dost so comely grow, 4. Fair is each budding thing the garden shows, 721. Fair lady with the bandaged eye! 47. Fair star, new-risen to our wondering eyes, 675. Fallen ? How fallen? States and empires Far, far away, beyond a hazy height, 715. Far up the lonely mountain-side, 331. Fathered by March, the daffodils are here, 609. Father, I will not ask for wealth or fame, 166. Father of lakes!" thy waters bend, 87. Fierce burns our fire of driftwood; overhead, Fifty leagues, fifty leagues- and I ride, 765. Flower of youth, in the ancient frame, 508. Foreseen in the vision of sages, 272. Forever am I conscious, moving here, 383. For, lo! the living God doth bare his arm, 661. For them, O God, who only worship Thee, 242. Freedom's first champion in our fettered land! 79. Friends of the Muse, to you of right belong, 161. From the drear wastes of unfulfilled desire, From their folded mates they wander far, 645. From this quaint cabin window I can see, 735. Give us a song!" the soldiers cried, 274. Glooms of the live-oaks, beautiful-braided and Glory and honor and fame and everlasting lau- Go bow thy head in gentle spite, 267. God dreamed space, 444. the suns sprang flaming into God keep you, dearest, all this lonely night, 449. God makes sech nights, all white an' still, 207. Good-by: nay, do not grieve that it is over, 662. Headless, without an arm, a figure leans, 648. He ate and drank the precious words, 320. He brought a Lily white, 490. He came too late! - Neglect had tried, 682. He crawls along the mountain walls, 360. He cried aloud to God: "The men below," 714. Heedless she strayed from note to note, 408. He gathered cherry-stones, and carved them He knelt beside her pillow, in the dead watch Helen, thy beauty is to me, 144. He lies low in the levelled sand, 427. He loved her, having felt his love begin, 643. Her aged hands are worn with works of love, Her casement like a watchful eye, 297. Her dimpled cheeks are pale, 577. Here in this room where first we met, 667. Her hands are cold; her face is white, 159. Her suffering ended with the day, 197. 505. --- He sang the airs of olden times, 168. He was in love with truth and knew her near, He was six years old, just six that day, 588. He who would echo Horace' lays, 200. He wrought with patience long and weary years, Hey, laddie, hark, to the merry, merry lark, High above hate I dwell, 667. High-lying, sea-blown stretches of green turf, High towered the palace and its massive pile, 71. His broad-brimmed hat pushed back with care- His cherished woods are mute. The stream His echoing axe the settler swung, 171. His feet were shod with music and had wings, His footprints have failed us, 429. His grace of Marlborough, legends say, 375. Ho, a song by the fire! 705. Ho! City of the gay! 48. Hold high the woof, dear friends, that we may Holy of England! since my light is short, 665. Home from the observatory, 631. Hopes grimly banished from the heart, 613. How beautiful to live as thou didst live! 536. How cold are thy baths, Apollo! 125. How dear to this heart are the scenes of my How fades that native breath, 686. How I should like a birthday!" said the How long it seems since that mild April night, How long I've loved thee, and how well, 624. How slight a thing may set one's fancy drifting, How small a tooth hath mined the season's How still the room is! But a while ago, 363. Hundreds of stars in the pretty sky, 588. I am a white falcon, hurrah! 282. I am dying, Egypt, dying! 303. I am immortal! I know it! I feel it! 772. I am the mown grass, dying at your feet, 760. I am the Virgin; from this granite ledge, 687. I and my cousin Wildair met, 554. I ask not how thy suffering came, 719. I bear an unseen burden constantly, 524. I beg the pardon of these flowers, 631. I broke one day a slender stem, 364. I burn no incense, hang no wreath, 82. I cannot look above and see, 192. I cannot make him dead! 35. I celebrate myself, and sing myself, 221. I could have stemmed misfortune's tide, 198. I count my time by times that I meet thee, If all the voices of men called out warning you, If any record of our names, 703. I fear no power a woman wields, 670. I feel the breath of the summer night, 259. If I lay waste and wither up with doubt, 387. If I must die, 744. If I shall ever win the home in heaven, 233. If Jesus Christ is a man, 478. If my best wines mislike thy taste, 385. I found the phrase to every thought, 320. If spirits walk, love, when the night climbs If still they live, whom touch nor sight, 576. If this little world to-night, 697. If thou wert lying cold and still and white, 463. If wisdom's height is only disenchantment, 730. I gazed upon the glorious sky, 56. I had my birth where stars were born, 466. I have a little kinsman, 333. I have not told my garden yet, 322. I have two friends- two glorious friends - two I heard the bells of Bethlehem ring, 478. I heard the trailing garments of the Night, 111. I hear in my heart, I hear in its ominous pulses, I know, I know where violets blow, 767. I know it must be winter (though I sleep), 575. I know not what will befall me: God hangs a I lay in silence, dead. A woman came, 444. I leave behind me the elm-shadowed square, I lift mine eyes against the sky, 772. I lift this sumach-bough with crimson flare, I like a church; I like a cowl, 91. I like the man who faces what he must, 467. I call thy frown a headsman, passing grim, 263. I looked one night, and there Semiramis, 542. I look upon thy happy face, 614. I love thy kingdom, Lord, 10. I love to steal awhile away, 28. I made a song for my dear love's delight, 636. I met a little Elf-man, once, 693. I'm king of the road! I gather, 680. In battle-line of sombre gray, 625. In days when George the Third was King, 769. In each green leaf a memory let die, 756. I never build a song by night or day, 542. I never had a happier time, 470. I never saw a moor, 322. In good condition, 768. In Heaven a spirit doth dwell, 148. In May, when sea-winds pierced our solitudes, 92. In my sleep I was fain of their fellowship, fain, Innocent spirits, bright, immaculate ghosts, 386. In tangled wreaths, in clustered gleaming stars, In Tennessee the dog-wood tree, 763. In the coiled shell sounds Ocean's distant roar, In the darkness deep, 679. In the gloomy ocean bed, 498. In the greenest of our valleys, 149. In the groined alcoves of an ancient tower, 649. In the loud waking world I come and go, 423. In the still, star-lit night, 258. In the old churchyard at Fredericksburg, 583. In thy coach of state, 719. Into the caverns of the sea, 725. Into the noiseless country Annie went, 239. Into the woods my Master went, 437. In vain we call old notions fudge, 215. In what a strange bewilderment do we, 324. I see the cloud-born squadrons of the gale, 318. I see thee still! thou art not dead, 197. I see them, crowd on crowd they walk the I send thee a shell from the ocean beach, 341. I shall go out when the light comes in, 720. I sing the hymn of the conquered, who fell in I stand upon the summit of my life, 305. I studied my tables over and over, and back- "Is water nigh? " 655. I take my chaperon to the play, 600. I think that we retain of our dead friends, 488. It is good to strive against wind and rain, 698. It is that pale, delaying hour, 515. It lies around us like a cloud, 194. I try to knead and spin, but my life is low the It seemed to be but chance, yet who shall say, It settles softly on your things, 700. It sings to me in sunshine, 289. It's only we, Grimalkin, both fond and fancy It trembled off the key, -a parting kiss, 715. It was a still autumnal day, 488. It was but yesterday, my love, thy little heart It was Christmas Eve in the year fourteen, 301. It was nothing but a rose I gave her, 354. I understand the large hearts of heroes, 223. I waked; the sun was in the sky, 346. I wanted you when skies were red, 715. I warn, I was asking for something specific and perfect "I was with Grant ". the stranger said, 406. I weep those dead lips, white and dry, 691. I went to dig a grave for Love, 719. I will not look for him, I will not hear, 754. I will rise, I will go from the places that are I wish I were the little key, 403. I wish that I could have my wish to-night, 391. I wonder, dear, if you had been, 541. I would I had been island-born, 696. I would not live alway - live alway below! 74. I would unto my fair restore, 666. I write my name as one, 141. I wrote some lines once on a time, 154. Jeannie Marsh of Cherry Valley, 84. Jesus, there is no dearer name than thine, 166. 345. Just as the spring came laughing through the Just ere the darkness is withdrawn, 613. Just when each bud was big with bloom, 672. Keep back the one word more, 612. King Solomon stood in the house of the Lord, Kiss me but once, and in that space supreme, Kit, the recording angel wrote, 534. Lady, there is a hope that all men have, 185. Last night Alicia wore a Tuscan bonnet, 601. Launched upon ether float the worlds secure, 390. Lay me down beneaf de willers in de grass, Lean close and set thine ear against the bark, Leap to the highest height of spring, 484. Les morts vont vite! Ay, for a little space, Let hammer on anvil ring, 679. Let me come in where you sit weeping, ay, 561. Life of Ages, richly poured, 254. Light of dim mornings; shield from heat and Light-winged Smoke! Icarian bird, 183. Like as the lark that, soaring higher and higher, Like Crusoe with the bootless gold we stand, Like some great pearl from out the Orient, 756. Linked to a clod, harassed, and sad, 384. Little, I ween, did Mary guess, 417. "Little Haly! Little Haly!" cheeps the robin Little masters, hat in hand, 489. Little Orphant Annie's come to our house to Little thinks, in the field, yon red-cloaked Lo! above the mournful chanting, 747. Lo! Death has reared himself a throne, 147. Look how it sparkles, see it greet, 763. Lofty against our Western dawn uprises Lonely and cold and fierce I keep my way, 491. Long has the summer sunlight shone, 306. "Love your neighbor as yourself," 589. Maiden, thy cheeks with tears are wet, 763. |